#this has been booked for MONTHS and you call me less then 24 hours before surgey to collect on almost 4k with no notice

[hoodie-lum]

day before surgey and the surgey center is trying to say the bill is almost $3k more then quoted and if it's not paid surgey is canceled. My Dr's office is calling out their BS but the surgey center is telling them they fixed it but every on my end is showing the new price but they inisit it's been fixed. My Dr's office is telling me not to pay the new price and that the surgey will continue but even with the anti anxiety medications I'm still stress and loopy as fuck

[zarsghost]

For Better

Divorcing!Simon Riley x Reader, 3.4k

Warnings: crying, court system, cursing, depressive thoughts, angst with happy ending

Hi lovelies! Here is you poll winner Divorcing!Simon x Reader! I hope you enjoy!

The air feels stale and stagnant as you stare at the blank TV in front of you. Your own reflection staring back at you as past memories seem to haunt you through the screen. You and your husband, relaxing on the couch together while his arm rested behind you as you laid your head on his shoulder as you both watched a movie. The matching jerseys that you both wore while watching a Manchester United game with popcorn flying everywhere as you both cheered as your team scored a goal. Simon convincing himself that he wasn’t interested in the drama series that you were watching from behind his book only to ask questions later on and even complain at the screen when a character did something stupid, his book long discarded on the sofa cushion next to him. They only reminded you of what life used to be like. What it used to feel like when your husband was home. But at some point, these moments became a further and further memory the less and less you saw of Simon. There was always something that came up that took priority over you.

“There’s a lot of paperwork sitting on my desk, love.”

“They need me for a solo op.”

“Price needs me for a team up.”

“These recruits need someone to get their ass in line.”

It got to the point where he wasn’t even home for 24 hours before he was sent out again. You knew his job and how important it was. Not just in the military but to the entire safety of the world in most cases. The constant worry you felt while he was away made you wonder if he was alright. What if he wasn’t? How long would it take for them to contact you to let you know that something happened? You understand that Simon can’t always contact you to let you know he’s okay while he’s away in order to protect you. But sometimes you don’t even know that he’s home until he’s unlocking the front door. This constant edge that you’re pressed against has become something that is too much to handle. You just want him to be safe. You just want to tell him that you love him and for him to say it back. You just want to be able to hold him in your arms and know that he’s home and not going anywhere. A part of you was ashamed that you were feeling this way to begin with. You shouldn’t be feeling this way just because you weren’t able to spend as much time with him as you wanted.

Right?

You rubbed your hands down your face, sighing heavily as your mind raced through these thoughts on a constant loop. The sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts as you lifted your head. You already knew who had entered considering the security just to get through the front door was what you might call ‘excessive’ but to Simon was ‘necessary’.

“Hi love.”

Simon walked into the open living room with his duffel bag in one hand as he padded his way over to where you were seated on the couch. He was wearing one of his signature balaclavas and gloves as he bent down to place a kiss on the top of your head before beginning to head to your “shared” bedroom. Through his mask. The mask that he usually took off as soon as the door was shut. It only meant one thing to you now.

He had to leave again.

You haven’t even seen your husband’s face in 8 months. 8 months you’ve been forced to look at that faded skull print when all you want to see is the face you married. 8 months of the only thing you were able to see were his eyes.

“You’re leaving again aren’t you?” You asked in a quiet voice, already knowing the answer.

Simon stopped in place as his shoulders tensed. He held his breath as he turned his head to look at you from over his shoulders. There were bags under your eyes and your hair was a mess like you had fallen asleep on the couch one too many times. A blanket was wrapped around you but it had slid off of one shoulder revealing that you were wearing one of his shirts.

He sighed, “Yeah. I just stopped by to get a new change of clothes before heading back to base.”

You nodded blankly as you continued to stare at your reflection in front of you. Simon took that as an opportunity to continue what he was doing as he disappeared into the bedroom. Your eyes stung as tears began to form, eventually sliding down your cheeks. Your fingers began to twist the wedding ring on your left hand as the metal seemed to feel hot against your skin. 8 months of this song and dance. Each time your excitement to see him home again flickering before being extinguished entirely. You wondered if Simon knew. If he knew what you were feeling, if he could see the change, if you could feel your pain, if you knew that he was the cause of it.

The sound of his footsteps got louder as he entered the living room again before pausing in front of the coffee table. You could hear him draw breath as if he was going to say something as he shifted his weight on his feet. You waited for him to say something, anything that would give you any hope that he still cared in some way.

“I’ll call you when I can. ‘M headed out.”

And with that he walked away. The sound of the front door opening and closing again resonated throughout the apartment. The final nail in your coffin. Your tears slid down your cheeks faster as you began to sob on the couch, clutching the blanket closer around you for any sense of comfort you could find in this moment. That night you began to look for lawyers.

2 weeks later…

Simon is sitting at his desk when a knock interrupts his thoughts.

“It’s me Simon. I’ve got yer mail.” A gruff voice said from the other side of the door.

“It’s open.” He replied before leaning back in his chair. He had a lot of paperworks to complete since he’s been pushing them off until the last possible day. Why do they need his report when they have reports from 4 other people stating the same thing? He thought it was stupid and a waste of his time. 

Price walked in holding a small stack of envelopes before dropping them on his desk. A couple were invitations to military galas that he immediately threw in the trash but what caught his eye was a thick manilla envelope that had an unknown sender address. His eyes quickly glanced up to Price before opening it. He took the papers out and froze in his chair. The top of the stack papers read, “Petition for Dissolution of Marriage”. Simon felt the air in his lungs leave as the words began to settle and register in his head. Divorce? His love had filed for divorce? Price let out a choked gasp as he read the papers for himself.

“What have you gotten yerself into Simon?” His brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced up at his Lieutenant’s face. He knew something was going on the past couple of months when he realized that Simon was spending a lot of time on base rather than at home. He remembered Simon would practically disappear whenever they got home in order to be at home with you. Simon has you set as his lockscreen on his phone and he catches Simon staring at your photo when they’re away.

Simon was silent as he sat there, his mind reeling as to what brought you to this point but he knew. He knew he had officially pushed your boundaries too far. Hefelt something else in the envelope and dumped the remains on to his desk. The small sound of metal hitting wood was deafening to his ears as your rings bounced against the desk. Your wedding bands sat there gleaming as the overhead light refracted in the jewels that adorned your rings.

“I fucked up Cap’n…” he said under his breath.

Price groaned as he leaned against one of the walls in Simon’s small office, crossing his arms over his chest. “I can see that Simon, but what did you do?”

Simon reached forward to take the rings into his hands as his fingers moved them back and forth. He took a deep breath before letting Price know what he’d been doing.

“I- I don’t know why but whenever we get home, I can’t stand to see the look on their face when I walk through the door. I know I’m away a lot and with everythin’ happen’n in Urzikstan, we’ve only gotten busier. We’re away longer too. I know it’s been affectin’ them but I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been home as much as I said I’ve been. I’ve been sleeping here on base and only going back when I need to change clothes.”

“Jesus fucking Christ Simon! No wonder they filed, you’ve been treatin’ em like this for how long now? You’re lucky they dealt with this for this long before getting to this point but I don’t blame them.” Price grumbled, angry at his subordinate’s actions. He was there at their wedding, watching as Simon had a smile on his face the entire day. He’d never seen him happier in the entire time he's known Simon. To hear this was straight up disappointing. 

“You need to fix this before you lose them for good. Now.” Price ordered as he pushed himself off the wall.

Simon could only nod as he heard Price leave his office, slamming the door shut as he did so. But Simon couldn’t bring himself to care, his focus still on the rings in his hands as his own still sat snugly on his finger.

The courtroom smelled like wood, dust, and musk from the amount of people that’ve been in and out of this room. Of course Simon couldn’t just sign the papers and have it been over.

No, he wanted to go to court to settle things officially and with you present. Considering that you were still technically a military spouse, you had the benefit of getting a military lawyer to defend your side of the proceedings. Simon sat alone on his side as he chose to represent himself. The judge was reading through the paperwork to make sure that all the information was correctly filed and in order. The bailiff watched over the room since he had to be there. You and Simon nodded whenever he asked either of you a question to confirm said information. The judge took his glasses off before addressing the two of you.

“Now, is this a mutual decision?”

“No” 

“Yes”

You looked towards Simon as your answers overlapped one another. The judge sighed and rubbed the sides of his nose before proceeding.

“Okay, I’m going to explain what is to happen if the petition is accepted, alright? Mrs.Riley, after the proceeding, you will have 30 days to acquire new health insurance since you’re currently filed under Mr. Riley. I understand that you live off base Mr. Riley so you will have to live on-base full time after 14 days. Mrs. Riley, you will have to turn in your military ID and apply to receive a civilian ID. As any normal divorce hearing, being a former spouse, you will be able to claim up to half of Mr. Riley’s retirement pension as well as alimony from Mr. Riley until that time. You will still have access to military offered services though. Are there any questions?”

“Is there any way that they can stay on my health plan after this? I know it’s a pain to find another physician with new insurance.” Simon asked the judge. 

The judge’s response was lost on you as you looked at your almost ex-husband. He knew how much you struggled to find a good physician under your insurance before you were married and after finally having one that you liked now, the fact that Simon was still advocating for you even now. He had been respectful before the proceedings had begun, asking how you were but you knew he was asking since he was nervous. Before today, this was the first time that you had seen each other since he came home to get clothes. He was wearing a black medical mask since he couldn’t wear his balaclava so you actually got to see more of his face. His eyes looked tired as if he hadn’t been sleeping well for a while. He had actually pulled a comb through his hair so it looked presentable. It reminded you when you had first started seeing each other. His skin looked paler, which his skin already was really pale but he looked almost sickly pale. It has concerned you but you forced that feeling down as you remembered why you were there. You remembered the missed birthdays, the missed anniversaries that you spent alone with only memories to keep you company. Your mind raced back and forth.

A nudge brought you out as you realized that you had spaced out in the middle of court. Your lawyer looked at you before subtly pointing with his eyes to the judge who waited for you, expecting a response.

“I-I’m sorry your honor, could you repeat that?” You asked timidly.

“I asked if you had any questions.”

You shook your head, “No sir.”

He nodded. “Do you have a final answer? Do you wish to proceed with the petition?”

You looked between Simon and the judge, knowing that your lawyer was also looking at you. They all looked at you as they waited for your response. Your breathing picked a little as a wave of panic started to set in. Is this what you really wanted? Did you really want to be separated from Simon more than you already were? The judge could tell that you were struggling to come up with a definite answer as your mouth opened and closed repeatedly, trying to say something. Anything.

“I call a 5 minute recess,” The judge announced before tapping his gavel. “Mrs. Riley, can you come here please?”

You stood up from your chair as you flattened out your skirt, glancing at Simon as he got up to leave the room along with your lawyer. The bailiff walked out behind Simon. You approached the stand as you looked up at the judge.

“Are you okay?” He asked in a soft voice.

“I-I….I don’t know.”

“Do you still love him?”

You nodded as you fiddled with your fingers, your left ring finger feeling empty.

“Then why file? Is there something else?”

“No, just… I can’t stand to think what could happen to him when he’s away. He’s halfway across the world and I don’t know if he’s okay. I barely get to see him anymore. I barely get to see his face and talk to the man I married. I just want my husband back.” Tears slipped down your face as you cried before the judge. He handed you a tissue before lacing his hands together. 

“Have you talked to him about your concerns before this?”

You shook your head again, “I haven’t had the chance to talk to him at all. I’ve barely seen him in 10 months until today.”

The judge let out a small sigh through his nose before speaking, “And what happens after this? Who does he have waiting for him when he comes back? Who is making sure that he stays safe and grounding him while he’s in the field? I know his position and I’ve read his file. The things he has to do aren’t for the ordinary. He’s SAS for a reason Mrs. Riley.”

You look up at the judge with blurry eyes. You knew that he’s military but you thought he was exaggerating about not being able to contact you. You didn’t know he was SAS.

 The judge continued, “It seems to me that he still very much cares for you. Most people that I see in these situations are yelling at each other, demanding things left and right from the others. Your husband has made many attempted negotiations to make sure that you’re taken care of even though he understands that it won’t be him that takes care of you anymore. He’s signed over his retirement pension to you as well as alimony. I’ve never seen someone do that. He also made sure that you didn’t have to move out of your apartment since the lease was in his name.”

Your husband did all that? Was that what he was going through when you space out earlier?

You begin to cry more as it seems to come into place in your mind. He’s been trying to take care of you even during this whole process. He hasn’t fought the lawyer in the initial discussion. He advocated for your benefits on your behalf which was why he brought the case to court. He’s still the man you fell in love with. 

The doors open behind you, signaling that the 5 minutes is over with. You turn to walk back to your seat as Simon goes back to his. His brows furrow in concern as he sees your red watery eyes. His hand lifts a bit to try and comfort you but quickly decides against it. 

The judge waits for everyone to sit before tapping his gavel again. 

“Recess adjourned. Court is back in session. Now, Mrs. Riley, your husband has let you decide what to do. Would you like to proceed with your initial decision?”

The air stills as everyone waits for your answer. Your eyes stare right into Simon’s leathery brown ones.

“No.”

The judges nods and taps his gavel. “Petition for Dissolution of Marriage denied on the account of the defendant resigning claim. Court is now adjourned.”

Simon stares at you in a state of shock and confusion. You thank your lawyer as he gathers his things and says his goodbyes. The judge leaves with the bailiff following closely behind him. This leaves just you and Simon. You look at your now still husband with a soft smile. What you didn’t expect was for him to practically rush at you as he crushed you in a massive hug. His arms wrapping around you so that one pressed against your waist while the other cradded the back of your head. His face buried into your neck as he took you in. Your own arms wrapping around your shoulders while you kept him there. No words needed to be said to convey the emotions that the both of you were feeling. Simon swayed slightly side to side as he held you before pulling back to see your face. His rested his forehead against yours as your hands slipped up his jaw to remove the mask. 

“Hi Simon”

“Hello love”

He kissed you passionately as you both embraced the other. The feeling in your chest confirming that you made the right decision.

“I’m so sorry love. I got too wrapped up that I didn’t see that you were hurting. I’m so sorry that you felt like you had to do this. I promise though, never again love. Never.” He kissed you again before squeezing you tight as he spun you around. You giggled into his ear as he did. A sound Simon didn’t know he would miss so much. 

“Let’s go home love. I have some makin’ up to do.” He smiled as he lifted you in his arms bridal style as he walked out of the courtroom, hoping to never have to be back here again.

The two of you were cuddled on the couch. His arm was around you as you slotted yourself right next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. Your rings were back on your finger where they should be and you had no plans to remove them. This time the reflections couldn’t see you as the news played quietly in the background.

“A biking Austrian was hit by a rogue bus in freak accident. Coroner states that the biker shouldn’t have been wearing a t-shirt over his head.”

You were happy. Simon was home and he was safe. This is all you wanted and all you’d ever need.

Thank you so much for reading! I had this thought for this while I was at work and knew I wanted to write this! I will still be posting Jackpot pt.2 soon so for anyone waiting on that, don't worry! There is also something else in the works in regards to this fic, can anyone guess what it might be? *wink wonk*👀

Don't forget to like and reblog :)

Or leave a comment…I like reading them☺️

Also let me know if you find anything that needs an edit, I was super sleep deprived when I wrote this I probably missed some stuff

[definitelynotstable]

Camomile pt. 11 [Ghost x gn!Reader]

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4, pt. 5, pt. 6, pt. 7, pt. 8, pt. 9, pt. 10, pt.11

AN: Another one <3 She is very game orientated and action heavy. Bare with me babes! For the plot!

Synopsis: Closely follows the “Kill or Capture” mission from mw2 (reboot). Rights to the game developers <3 Word count: 2.5k Warnings: Canon divergence, canon-typical violence, military shit, guns, explosions etc.  Ghost x gn!Reader (callsign: Rags)

Not proof-read (sorry!)

✧˚ · .

Missions came and went and you slowly but surely found yourself shaking the nerves you had returning to active duty. Trainings and drills were back full force and each night you returned to your room with aching limbs. Ghost and you had returned to the unspoken routine of drinking tea in the small hours of the morning. The Lieutenant had come to relax considerably around you and was less stoic; his replies during conversation longer and more detailed than they had ever been. 

“There’s a briefing tomorrow.” He’d begun starting conversation more too, rather than waiting for you to break the silence. 

“Oh?” You reply, not looking up; eyes skimming the pages of the book in your lap. “What about?”

When he doesn’t respond you frown, closing the book and meeting his gaze. His look is undecipherable, cobalt eyes stern. “Him.”

You narrow your eyes, confused. “Him?”

“Makarov.” The name is spat from his mouth like he’d swallowed something bitter. 

“A new lead?” The team hadn’t had one in months. 

Ghost nods, playing with the string of his teabag. “Price think’s it’s solid – Laswell too.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask, shutting the book and sitting up from where you’d been laying on the couch. You eye the Lieutenant cautiously, “I’ll know tomorrow won’t I?”

The man sighs, dropping his gaze to the table where he runs his finger over a dent. “Jus’ wanted to give you a warnin’.”

You can’t help but smile. This man. Simultaneously one of the most intimidating and softest you’d ever met. “Oh well,” you clear your throat, standing and moving to drop your now-empty mug into the sink, “thank you for letting me know.”

✧˚ · .

The briefing room has been rearranged so Laswell can video call in, you slide into an empty chair next to Soap who slings his arm across the back of it, allowing you to see past his broad chest. 

“Do ya ken what this is about?” He whispers to you as Price closes the door, you nudge him with your elbow; shushing him as the Captain starts to speak.

“Mornin’, Kate,” the man speaks to the woman on the screen.

“Morning John,” she nods back, acknowledging those behind him, “team.”

A few people murmur a hello, Ghost, who stands against the wall with his arms crossed, nods with a grunt. 

“Alright, assuming no one has breached our confidence, you all don’t know what this is about.”

You flick a glance at Ghost, he doesn’t even blink; watching Laswell with a blank expression. 

“We received intel just over 24 hours ago regarding the whereabouts of Vladimir Makarov – commander of the Russian PMC Konni Group and associate of the ultranationalist political party.” She types something into her laptop and a grainy image appears onscreen. You grit your teeth, ignoring the way Gaz and Soap look your way. 

“Though we belief the intel to be solid, it is too risky to make a move till we can figure out his intentions.” 

You swallow, almost relieved you won’t have to face the man behind your still-healing scars just yet. 

Price steps forward, “We thought you all had the right to an update considering recent events.” His eyes dart to yours before turning to the laptop in front of him.

“Instead we have orders from the General – a new HVT.” He hits a key and Laswell is moved to the side, images which can only be of the aftermath of a missile strike take over the screen. “Following our strikes against the Russian-backed Iranian forces and the recent assassination of Iranian General Ghorbrani a new player has emerged – Hassan Zyani.”

This portrait is less pixelated than the last, strong brows and a salt-and-pepper beard soften his sharp features. He doesn’t look like a murderer – though you suppose the dangerous ones never do. 

“We believe he has begun funding terrorist activity in an attempt to seek revenge on the United States for the strike which killed Ghorbrani, Shepherd wants as us to put a stop to it before it starts.”

✧˚ · .

You aren’t surprised Laswell doesn’t have much intel on Makarov. He’d only been known to Price and 141 for a short while before your capture. His motives were unclear – a grudge against Price was not a strong enough factor to kidnap and torture an SAS operative on an multinational special operations unit. It was as though he had used your capture to test something – though you weren’t sure what. 

“Wheels up in ten.” A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up to see Ghost, decked out in his tactical gear. It’s odd seeing him in the kitchen, a place you’d only really ever seen him enter in more casual clothing.

“Thanks LT.” You reply, stuffing a handful of camomile teabags into your empty pocket. Though you drink them when you can on mission, it’d become more of a good luck charm for you to always have tea with you.

Though he’s wearing his hard-shell mask, you can tell the Lieutenant is raising an eyebrow at you. You brush past him, fiddling with the zipper on your pocket. “You coming?”

You swear you hear him breathe out a laugh as he follows you out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the tarmac. 

“I’m starting to think I need to carry out uniform inspections.” Ghost says, reaching over you to hold the door back. Wind tousles your hair as you step outside – the blades of the helicopter already spinning. 

You cast a look at him over your shoulder in disbelief only to find his eyes creased teasingly. You scoff, hitting him softly with your glove – not yet on your hand. “Cigarettes aren’t standard issue either, LT. Cigars too – Captain wouldn’t be too happy.”

If he replies you don’t hear him, the roar of the chopper drowning everything out. Soap’s waiting by the door and you give him a pat on the shoulder as you clamber into the heli. 

You’re being sent to Al Mazrah – the last known location of Hassan. It’s a short chopper ride to an airfield nearby and then a bumpy few hours in the metal belly of a military plane.

 ✧˚ · .

“All shooters have execute authority, but we want Hassan alive for interrogation.” Laswell’s voice echoes in your head, “And be advised, Major Hassan is A.Q.’s lifeline – if he is there, they will die for him.”

You, Ghost and Soap are running point on the mission with a group of MARSOC Marines ordered by Laswell to assist. A rough landing and a rushed briefing later and you’re in a chopper heading for the field. 

“Bravo team offloads here.” Ghost calls over the roar of the helicopter as it lowers to the ground, the red light casting an ominous glow as he marches through the hull of the chopper. “Alpha team stays onboard to land downrange. Both teams meet in the middle. Remember, we want Hassan alive, but this is capture or kill.”

You’re on Alpha team, Ghost gives you a single nod and Soap bumps your fist as they exit the heli. 

“Keep up, Soap.” The Lieutenant growls and Soap gives you a grin before following suit. 

The ramp closes behind and your friends are out of sight. The helicopter shakes and flares light up the sky. You make your way to the cockpit, the pilot is yelling into the comms.

“Incoming – Flares! Flares!”

The whole chopper jolts to the side and you just manage to hear someone over the radio scream “second missle!” when the world explodes around you. Fire and metal and smoke consumes you as the heli careens towards the ground. You dive forwards into the cockpit further, heart racing.

“Razor 1 going down! We’re going down!” The pilot calls and the vehicle meets the ground with a sickening screech. 

Not a single limb escapes the impact and flames sear into your vision. Something is buzzing in your ear and you hack out a cough, raising a hand to the comms.

“Alpha what’s your status?!” Ghost growls in your ear and through the haze you can hear the panic. “Alpha, how copy?”

You crane your neck, taking a quick inventory of the bodies strewn around – some still, some moving. 

“Bravo,” you manage to rasp, lungs burning. You lean over the pilot, fingers pressed under his jaw and against his neck. “Alpha is immobile. Multiple critical!”

Glass sprays as bullets spew in your direction, you lunge to the ground, swearing. 

“Shit!” You swear, comms still on. “We’re taking effective fire here, LT!”

You can hear Ghost swear back, “Alpha, we’re moving to building 1. Hold tight!”

You grit your teeth, you know he can’t just rush over to your aid. The priority is Hassan. You can hear Soap argue in the background but Ghost shuts him down. 

“Roger that, LT.” You reply, ducking as another round is sent your way. You fling a flash-bang back before popping up and returning fire.

You turn around, a young marine called “Red” has managed to pull the wounded inside and flagged the dead. You continue providing cover as he works. It’s dark out but the flames fuck with your night vision. The enemy has the advantage. You take aim at a small group in the treeline, gasping when a single bullet burrows into your shoulder. Pain flares and the impact sends you into the control panel.

“Fuckin’ sniper,” you warn the other soldiers as you push yourself up, “watch it, we’re sitting ducks here.”

“Affirmative.” One replies, from where he crouches near the now-lowered ramp.

“Alpha 0-2, Bravo 0-7.” Ghost crackles through your earpiece and you almost sigh with relief. 

“Tell me you’ve got some good news for me, LT.” 

“Building two secure,” he says by way of assurance, “We’re coming for you.”

“Roger,” you respond, signalling to the marine by the ramp to hold his fire. “Ramp’s down – we’re waiting for you.”

You stumble over to the man kneeling amongst the bodies, holding your shoulder as the figures of Ghost and Soap enter the heli. “What’s the total, Red?”

“We got five KIA and one wounded, not including you,” the soldier says, stumbling to his feet.

“Including you?” Ghost asks, as he and Soap come to stand in front of you. 

You shake your head. “It’s nothing, we need to move him though.” You say, pointing at the wounded soldier.

Ghost shakes his head, eyeing the window, gun raised. “No time. They’re here. Get your gun on that treeline.”

You catch some ammo Soap throws your way. “I’ve had my fucking gun on that treeline the whole time, there’s too many.”

Bullets ping off the hull of the heli and you return fire, struggling to see through the haze of the flames, your shoulder burning.

“Got movement.” Soap calls from your right, squinting through his scope.

“Engage!” Ghost responds, firing rounds at the figures moving through the trees.

You spot movement and move your scope to get a closer look. “Shooters at the wall!” You warn.

“You fuckin’ called it, LT.” Soap says, swearing as he ducks to reload. 

The smokey haze is impossible to penetrate and you pull your night vision visor back just as a projectile soars in your direction. 

“RPG!” Red yells, the warning useless as your very bones vibrate as it explodes agains the side of the heli. An arm wraps under yours, pulling you to your feet.

“Gun up, Rags.” He says roughly, already raising his gun. “They’re getting close!”

Your wound throbs as the butt of your rifle returns to your shoulder but you make quick work of a group of hostiles running towards the chopper. 

“We clear?” Soap asks after what seems like hours but is only mere minutes.

Ghost squints through his scope, the gunfire has ceased but flares roar. “For now,” he raises an hand to his ear, “7-6, call for fire. I want air on that treeline.“

He turns to you, “Air-support’s three minutes out. Stay sharp.”

The wreckage shakes with a loud thrum and you stumble into Ghost. He rights you, raising his gun. 

“They’re launching fucking grenades!” You cry, mirroring your Lieutenant, reloading and picking off the hostiles before they can launch more.  

Out of the corner of your eye you see a man fall to the ground. “Red’s hit! Man down!”

Ghost steps in front of you are you make for the marine. “He’s dead. Keep your gun up, Sergeant.”

Tears burn in your eyes. He was so young. 

You force yourself to ignore Red’s body as you take up his position by the ramp.

“Ghost, we should fall back to the house,” you hear Soap call over the bullets and explosions.

“Negative.” is the Lieutenants gruff response, “We clear this position and push hard. If Hassan’s still here, he’s out ahead.”

✧˚ · .

“LT, I spot armoured vehicles! There’s four of them!” A marine from Bravo team calls out.

“Conserve your ammo,” the Lieutenant calls back, “Let ‘em get close.”

The comms crackle, notifying you of incoming air-support.  You send back an affirmative, tensing against Ghost who crouches next to you as the vehicles are cleared – the heat of the explosion flaring as the heli rocks,

He pats you once on the shoulder and you wince. He doesn’t notice, gesturing you to follow and you quickly reload before moving after him. The rugged roads and graveyard of exploded vehicles soon morphs into fields and you flick your night vision visor back down, the light of the flames behind you. 

“There’s a sniper up ahead, Rags you take point.” Ghost calls as you run towards the second building. 

He grips your wrist for a second and you turn, gun poised away from him as you give him a questioning look. He gestures to a body on the right, a marine. Your heart sinks. You follow Ghosts hand and where he points to the rifle in the dead marine’s grip. 

He covers you as you sling your G3 across your back, prising the weapon from the mans grip. You quickly asses it for any damage and nod to Ghost – it’s in good shape. The Lieutenant follows, guarding your six as you squint through the scope. You can see a flash from the roof, something reflective is catching the flames from the distance. The sniper. Now knowing his position you find him immediately through your scope and take a deep breath before firing. The bullet zips through the air, the silencer giving a sharp huff of air. 

“Good shot there, Rags,” Soap clasps your shoulder and you flash him a grin. 

“Not just here to look pretty, mate.” You respond, moving towards the building, covering the squad from your vantage point. Air-support opens fire on the other side of the building and you take it was your chance to enter.  Now is the hard part – find Hassan dead or alive.

✧˚ · .

Taglist

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Masterlist

[daughterofthemuse]

Thoughts on 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess'

General Thoughts

This book was a lot of fun.

Nope was the cutest ever

Hecate's house is WILD. The knockers? The aesthetic choices? The BATHROOMS? She 1000% committed to the bit

Some ppl have said that the recent Riordanverse books have had themes. (Roughly speaking,) 'The Sun and the Star' was about accepting yourself and moving through trauma, and 'Chalice of the Gods' was about growing up, aging and embracing the changes that come with it (kinda ironic for focusing on a character who is known for turning 17 every year). I thought 'Wrath of the Triple Goddess' could have been about grief and family, but it's actually abt choices and regrets. Bc ofc the book abt Ἑκάτη (Hecate), the goddess of crossroads, would be abt choices.

Fanart I want to see

The Halloween costumes Percy, Grove & Annabeth wore

Human!Grover, Owl-a-beth & Octo-Percy

The Campers' Halloween costumes

Page-by-page notes that I took (with quotes)

I'm always careful not to look at my mom's screen while she's writing, because a) I know it makes her nervous, b) the floating words make me queasy, and c) I can't help wondering if she's writing a character based on me. Maybe that sounds self-centered, but the idea of anybody writing a book about me makes me super paranoid. (pg 16)

Bud, I'm sorry, but it's a decade and a half too late for that

She knew exactly what I was saying, even if Dave and Hana didn't. "She can't do all your homework for you, dude," Hana said. "Yeah, she has to do our homework," Dave said. "Ugh, you two," Annabeth said, but she gave them a smile. "Okay, Jackson, I can spare you a few minutes, Come on." She hauled me up and led me out of the library, Paul and Hana whispering behind our backs, (pg 24)

Oh look, surprise name change! (/j)

Then his eyes drifted up to the gargoyles on the roof. "Oh, wow." "I know, spooky," Annabeth agreed. Grover scratched his goatee. "I was going to say the one on the left looks like my Aunt Helena. But guess that's the same thing." (pg 32)

Grover's Aunt Helena is probably a harpy / nasty wind Spirit

I'd barely been able to master numbers and colors in Spanish, even with my friend Leo Valdez as a tutor. (pg 35)

Rick is making himself plotholes. Percy is being tutored in Spanish by the missing Leo. It's only Chapter 4!

We had some trouble on Third Avenue when Hecuba decided attack a Lil Zeus Greek food cart, but I managed to pull her off before she killed the cook or devoured his meat supply. Dude wasn't too happy. He yelled something in Greek at me--maybe Please control your rhinoceros--but I couldn't be too mad at Hecuba. For one thing, the food smelled good. For another, anything labeled Zeus sent me into attack mode, too. (pg 64)

Lil Zeus Greek food cart? a) Percy should have understood more of the Greek dude's language, unless he did actually think the hellhound was a rhino and b) fair on attacking it

I took out Riptide. With the tip of the blade, I etched a message on the sidewalk: Went to Gramercy. That was another trick I'd only learned in the last month. One day when I was bored, sitting on a sidewalk while my mom shopped for clothes for her first author signing, I discovered that Riptide could sketch glowing lines on asphalt that no regular mortals could see. The markings lasted about three hours before fading away--less if it rained. It made me wonder why I'd never seen Celestial bronze graffiti around from other demigods. (pg 68)

Riptide can write on the pavement?

He couldn’t have been more than six weeks old. "You want another treat?" I asked him. "Nope!" he barked, which apparently meant Yes, please, I'll take the whole bag. I couldn't help but smile. "Is that your name? Nope?" He tilted his head, maybe thinking about it. "Nope!" "Okay, then that's what I'll call you." He crawled right into my lap. He was heavy--like fifty pounds--and floppy, with ridiculously oversize paws that told me he was going to be a rhino-size hellhound someday. I scratched behind his ears and kept feeding him treats, letting him get used to the sound of my voice. (pg 87)

Percy’s getting a Hellhound puppy that can say nope????

The man who was eating a late breakfast at Dr. Sharma's desk was definitely not Dr. Sharma. His dark hair and beard were flecked with gray. He wore a rumpled tweed jacket, tie, and dress shirt, with a flannel blanket over his lap. His old-fashioned wheel-chair had hand-pushed steel wheels and well-worn black leather armrests. He held a half-eaten bagel in one hand and a steaming cup of tea in other. I registered all these details with perfect clarity, but somehow, I still did not recognize him. (pg 99)

WHAT IS CHIRON DOING AT PERCY’S SCHOOL?

"The Adventures of Mom, Chew Toy, and Alley Boy," Annabeth mused. (pg 115)

pffft! And look, an Oxford comma!

My friend Nico di Angelo, son of Hades, also had the ability. He'd used it once to take me Christmas shopping in Florence. (Long story.) (pg 133)

Nico took Percy Christmas shopping in Florence? I need this story.

“Okay,” I said. “Maybe pack isn’t the right word. I don’t know why Hecate turned you into a hellhound. Gods are weird. I have a friend whose dad once turned her into a tree. Maybe Hecate saved you the only way she knew how. It’s not perfect, but it’s still love.” Hecuba gazed at the ocean—a view she’d probably seen thousands of times when she was a mortal. She’d watched the Greek ships anchor off that coast, ready for war. She’d watched her children die in battle on that rocky beach before the walls of her doomed city. (pg 137)

Is this book abt grief & family?

I frowned. "I didn't figure you for a nightclub guy." "Are you kidding? I can hoof-boogie with the best of them! I've still got that wedding-dress outfit from the Sea of Monsters, too." He sighed. "Maybe someday." (pg 142)

Grover still has his wedding dress?

Pracktical forcery and Potionf for Beginnyng Uferf (pg 144)

Oh look, it's that old-timey font where 'S' is really tall and skinny and kinda looks like an 'f'!

Under this collection was a brass plaque engraved with WHAT COULD HAVE BEEN. I lifted the top of the display case. I picked up a pair of blue-framed glasses that were snapped in half at the bridge. They were the same ones I'd seen in my vision of the child pedaling away from the manse in terror. On the right stem, the initials SEJ were monogrammed in gold. I felt like I had shadow-traveled into a block of ice. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. SEJ. I knew those initials. (pg 145)

SEJ, Sally's initials?

I didn't realize that when he'd said ground himself, he'd meant literally cover himself with the ground. He sat down in a flower bed and started to heap leaves and dirt over his legs. (pg 147) ... Two more tunneled through the leaves and skittered up Grover's legs. Within a minute, there were dozens, maybe hundreds. Honestly, I had no idea. I never had to count squirrels in numbers that high before Grover's torso disappeared under a tidal wave of chittering fur and twitching bushy tails. Somewhere in the mix of brown and gray, I spotted one very large black rat, who quickly disappeared in the sea of its squirrely comrades. (pg 148)

This grounding thing is weird... Could it be a Pan thing?

As he nibbled his cake, I said, "Okay. Tell me." He shrugged listlessly. "It's just... grounding myself like that? It's pretty powerful magic. I can only do it because I'm a Cloven Elder." Grover was too modest. He rarely talked about it, but after the Battle of Manhattan, he'd been promoted to the council of the three most important satyrs in the world, which in my mind made him an elite boss. "It's dangerous?" I guessed. "Oh... nothing I'd worry about," he said. "Not a big deal. It's just when I do that, when I connect with nature on that level, there's always a small chance..." "Yes?" He nibbled more cake. "That I might dissolve into nothing." (pg 151)

Yep, it's a Pan thing. And oh, the grounding thing is like Nico at the end of BoO... okay. This is great /s

And Grover seemed to enjoy being called Cloven Elder. My thoughts started rambling, as they do. I wondered if I should call him CE for short. Did that mean before he became a Cloven Elder he was Grover BCE? This is how my mind works. Welcome to the chaos. (pg 156)

Grover BCE, YES!

The name of the place glittered in pearly white over the door: AEAEA. I guess they'd spent all their money on the storefront decorations and hadn't been able to afford any consonants for their sign. "What is it?" Grover asked. "Not sure," I said. "The name of that place mean anything to you?" Grover tried to pronounce it. "It looks like something Hephaestus might scream when he drops a hammer on his foot." (pg 158)

Αἰαία (Aeaea)? Κίρκη (Circe)????

"My name is Filomena," she said, her jaw clenched. "Aeaea was my home island. But you don't even remember, do you?" (pg 161)

Dude doesn't remember the last time someone recognized him and accused him of destroying their home, does he?

A noxious purple fog started to rise around us. I recovered my senses, yelled, "Aeaea!" (because it was on my mind) and blasted the potion fog right back at Filomena. "Ack!" she complained, now speckled head to toe in magical whatever-it-was. "How dare you!" (pg 162)

Poison manipulation again????

"I take it you didn’t recognize the naiads?" "From where?" Grover asked. "You weren't with us," Annabeth told him. "You were stuck in a Cyclops's cave at the time." Grover shivered. "The Sea of Monsters." "Yep. The naiads are from the island of Aeaea." I rubbed my sore neck. "I think I would've remembered a name like Aeaea." Annabeth considered that. "Actually, you're right. I don't thínk anyone called it that when we were there. It's another name for Circe's Island." (pg 184) ... "Circe had four main handmaidens," Annabeth said. "The Aeaean nymphs. They were responsible for preparing her potions. I guess when the pirates burned down C.C.'s Spa--" "The naiads came to Manhattan," Grover finished. "And set up competing perfume shops. As one does." (pg 185)

I knew they were from Αἰαία! And Lore drop!

Whenever Annabeth joined the chat, the odds of us doing something idiotic went way down. The odds were never zero, mind you, because I was still in the mix. (pg 186)

"Annabeth joined the chat..." Bro, why. Why did you use that piece of slang?

With the help of one of the costume people, Annabeth had done her hair and makeup like it had been on Circe's Island. She looked incredible, but you don't have to take my word for it. The costume person's exact reaction was "You look incredible." Then she turned to Grover and me and said "Now, these two are are a challenge." We were dressed as Annabeth's servants/bodyguards/loyal gladiators? I'm not even sure, but we weren't rocking the look very well. Grover wore a gladiator's breastplate and a leather kilt sort of of thing, with a big plastic sword at his side. I got dressed like a retiarius--one of those Colosseum fighters with the weighted nets and the tridents. The trident seemed a little on the nose for me, but it wasn't my biggest complaint. My "armor" was basically an oversize loincloth with a thick leather belt, sandals, and a weird shield-sleeve thing on my left arm that reminded me of a pizza pan. This meant I would basically be walking around Manhattan in late October in my underwear. Annabeth added a big helmet with a faceplate so nobody would recognize me unless they literally got up in my grill. (pg 187)

I need art of these costumes

23. We Find the Lair of Evil Perfume

Annabeth is doing a ton of amazing work this chapter!

Annabeth responded, "WHOOOO!" (pg 206)

Annabeth, daughter of the Owl Goddess, hooted. It only took her 24 books and 5 years

I raised my hands--except I didn't have hands anymore. Where my arms used to be were eight thick purple tentacles lined with pink suction cups. One tentacle was curled around Riptide. I was so shocked I loosened my hold, letting the blade drop. "Oh.." I wanted to throw up. No offense to octopuses. I've had some great conversations with octopuses. But I didn't want to have their tentacles. My new appendages felt wet and slimy. Powerful muscles rippled under the skin. The suckers clasped and unclasped, smelling the air, searching for something to grip. "This is bad." (pg 207)

Well octo-Percy is... interesting

He was staring down at his legs and weeping. Where his furry goat hindquarters had been, there was bare skin, forward-articulating knees, and instead of hooves... feet. Five-toed feet not too different from mine. "Human," he sniffled. "That's the worst kind of beast!" (pg 207 & 208)

Oh, poor Grover. Also... very interesting "humans are the worst kind of beast"

Annabeth turned her head 180 degrees and shrieked at the nymph. "AWK!" (pg 208)

180-degree head turn from Annabeth!

Grover shuffed awkwardly toward Daedra. "How do you walk on these? They're so tender! Ouch. Ouch. Ouch." (pg 209)

We don't normally walk barefoot. And I want art of human!Grover

I saw a young woman in tattered brown robes. She carried a leather pack over one shoulder, loaded with medicinal plants, vials, salves, and scrolls. It was her life's work--all she could salvage when the Colossians chased her out of their city. She struggled up a steep mountain path, occasionally stopping to grip her stomach, crying out in pain. Tears streaked her face, smearing the kohl around her eyes so she appeared to have a black mask. (pg 215)

Gale Lore drop? Poor Gale!

I'd been wrong about Hecate. She hadn't turned Gale into a polecat out of jealousy. The reason was worse. She'd empathized. She'd lacked faith that Gale could survive on her magical talents alone. Hecate of all people knew how the world saw witches. She'd pitied Gale, admired her, and yes, maybe even feared her a little, but she could not imagine a mere human succeeding when she, a goddess, had failed. So Gale had to cease being human. (pg 218)

Poor Hecate too. Dam patriarchy & fear of the unknown

And no way did I want to be around when orange goo started dripping through Hades's palace ceiling. I'd met his plumbers. They tended to solve all his problems with fery whips. (pg 219)

The Kindly Ones aren't plumbers, Percy

I'll say it again: thank the gods for Halloween. I doubt any amount of Mist could have hidden Owl-a-beth and Octo-Percy from the curious eyes of mortals as we fled, especially since my tentacles kept slapping passers by for no particular reason. Because it was Halloween, though, most people would think, Wow, those costumes are incredible, and that third guy is fully human! Amazing! (pg 222)

Yeah, Halloween does a lot for hiding mythical stuff. Cuts both ways tho

Annabeth gagged. Her beak opened wide. Her owl eyes got even larger. Her crown feathers stood on end like blades. She brought her hands to her throat—the universal sign for choking. I panicked. Would the Heimlich maneuver work on a half human, half raptor? I only had octopus tentacles, but I hustled behind her and did my best to find her sternum the way my fourth-grade health teacher had taught us. I thrust upward into her diaphragm. COUGH! An owl pellet the size of a melon shot from her throat and bounced off the opposite wall. She doubled over, breathing heavily. When she straightened again, she was normal Annabeth—human face, human hair with the scent of her usual apple shampoo. (pg 225)

Coughing that up must've been painful. And I'm pretty sure the Heimlich maneuver isn't recommended anymore

Grover seemed to follow my thoughts. “Tomorrow is Halloween. There’s no way three people can fix this mansion before Hecate gets back. (pg 230)

Just ask your friends to help! They're coming for the party, just ask them to arrive early too

I nodded. “I don’t know what happened exactly, but if we’re going to try rebuilding this place with the help of ghosts, then we need to figure it out. Which means I need to talk to SEJ. Sally Estelle Jackson.” (pg 238)

His mum? Or an ancestor? I'm thinking his mum, but the timing makes me think maybe an ancestor

She smiled wistfully, the way she does when she looks at old photographs. “I haven’t since that day. My family made me wear them because I was seeing things…differently.” “Through the Mist.” She’d always been able to do that. Some rare mortals could, but I’d never considered how hard that would’ve been for her as a kid. “They were just trying to help,” she said. “They were worried. When other kids saw a mounted police officer riding down the street, I saw a pegasus. That kind of thing. We used to live near Gramercy Park West. One day, when I was riding my bike down the street, I saw that mansion, shifting and blending into the buildings around it. Those tombstone walls.” (pg 244)

Interesting... what ppl think of clear-sighted ppl

She swallowed. “Hecate ambushed me! She showed up on Olympus and…well, she asked me what I thought of you. I was shocked! She hadn’t spoken to me since 1914! I—I was desperate to impress her. And foolishly… I said you were quite competent.” “Thanks?” “I panicked! And now, if you fail, that means I failed. Oh, she won’t forgive me a second time.” “I still don’t—Wait.” I’m a little slow on the uptake. But when a puzzle finally starts coming together, I can usually finish it without having to bash too many of the pieces into place. “A second time,” I said. “Nineteen fourteen. That’s the last year Hecate ran her magic school. You were part of that?” (pg 247) She shrugged listlessly. “War. It’s always a war. Our students started taking sides, arguing with one another. It escalated from name-calling to violence to potion-flinging.” “Potion-flinging is bad.” (pg 248)

Ofc WW1 made the school close, and poor Εὐδώρη (Eudora)

I took one more look around the shattered great room. I felt like I was forgetting something important. (pg 258)

Locking the door, I'm pretty sure

Grover and I exchanged a panicked look. If Annabeth was admitting she’d made a mistake, we were in serious trouble. All heroes had fatal flaws. Annabeth’s was pride. She always aimed as high as possible, confident she could go even higher. Most of the time, she was right. But calling for help after one block? The situation had to be desperate for her to swallow her pride like that. Then I remembered why fatal flaws were called fatal. We couldn’t let her get worn-out so soon. She was the only one who could direct the ghosts to rebuild the house properly. “Let me take the torches,” I said. (pg 267)

Annabeth’s fatal flaw is pride, yours is loyalty, Percy. You taking them could go just as badly, with you not passing them to anyone else

My last shot was a miss. Black spots danced in my eyes. I crumpled to my knees, and the torch fell out of my hand. (pg 276)

Oh schist

I knew I’d forgotten something important—again. We’d invited our friends to a Halloween party tonight and never canceled it. You see, kids? Absentmindedness can save your life. The side panel door rolled open and costumed demigods poured out. Connor Stoll led the way, wearing a prisoner’s orange jumpsuit with fake manacles on his ankles and wrists. “Dude, your yard decorations are fire!” “They’re real!” I yelled. “Real ghosts!” More demigods emerged from the van—Clovis from the Morpheus cabin, wearing a nightgown, nightcap, and slippers, which was not very different from how he usually lounged at camp; Harley from Hephaestus, the youngest of our campers, encased in a Celestial bronze Iron Man suit he’d probably made himself; Valentina Diaz from Aphrodite, dressed in a black 1940s evening gown with white gloves, a broad-brimmed hat, and twenty different strings of pearls around her neck. Valentina scanned the ghostly horde. “Gross. Can we fight them?” “Yes, please!” Annabeth yelled from the porch. Our friends charged into battle. (pg 292)

I said his friends could help. Except they're helping with ghosts ig

And Rick, Clovis is a son of Ὕπνος (Hypnos), we don't have a Μορφεύς (Morpheus) Cabin

The horse freaked out and whinnied, Why am I flying? (pg 297)

Poor police horse

There should be a rule that goddesses can never come home before 8:00 a.m. Hecate blazed into the mansion at exactly 5:32. (pg 304)

Eugh, what a wake-up time

Sometimes folks at camp asked if I avoided eating seafood because I was the son of Poseidon and could talk to fish or whatever. I always answered that no, I ate fish. Have you ever talked to one? They don’t have a lot to say. Mostly it boils down to Are you food? Am I food? Eating them is the only way to answer the question. (pg 319)

We have an answer to the Percy-seafood question. Tho he'll probably be off calamari for a while

Obviously, I don’t consume the smart species like octopuses, dolphins, sharks, and manta rays. (pg 319)

Oh, so no calamari at all. Good to know

[snowmuttgetsweird]

5/12/24, late morning

How about something a little more positive while I wait for my mom to give me the okay to call her for mother's day?

I love my day job! I'm a TCG guy more than anything, hobby-wise, so exploring board games as a sales person has been intimidating, and I frequently feel like I'm underperforming even when my coworkers tell me I'm doing great and that I'm providing skills the crew doesn't have otherwise, but it's a wonderful job. It's relatively low stress, there's ample opportunity to steal extra shifts which makes up for the middling pay, and a (generous) employee discount for arguably my most expensive hobby (ironically Digimon is one of the cheapest TCGs out there) is a godsend.

On quiet days, I'm frequently treated with an opportunity to learn a new board game. Last week I learned Wingspan, a few days ago I learned Wyrmspan, and just yesterday I learned Scout. I've even had opportunities to play multiple games before they were even available to the general public like Gloomhaven Buttons & Bugs and Star Wars Unlimited! So far almost everything that I've played I've enjoyed a lot too.

It might not be the highest paying job, but it's very easy, the staff and management is super laid back and grounded, and I get to learn board games. I literally can't think of anything wrong with that. It's the kind of job that makes me WANT to do my best, so I frequently go above and beyond the level of effort I'd normally exert for other retail jobs I've had.

Besides all that, it might have literally saved my life. Art is cool, but it doesn't pay that well- especially at the level I'm at. This day job being my primary flow of income with art being supplemental has been very good, and I'm very lucky that my patrons and followers are willing to be so patient with me while I find my footing.

I know I've said so before, but I feel like this year I've really got a great chance at succeeding financially. Last year I only had my day job since September, so for 8 months I had to earn a bare minimum of about $1800 a month through art alone so I could set aside 20% for taxes and still pay rent. This year, my day job and Patreon more or less cover rent for me, and everything I make through art is technically "gravy." Right now, all of that is going toward paying off money I owe to my roommate for covering most of our utilities by himself, but once that's all paid off and I'm consistently making enough to keep up with paying half of those bills, 30% of whatever I make through art will be set aside for taxes from now on, regardless of how much I make since I'm not trying to hit a specific threshold for rent, and then the rest can become SAVINGS! The key now is to calculate the average cost of our bills and utilities so I can try to make sure I make MORE per month than what I owe so I can catch up to the ongoing fees. I'm pretty optimistic about that.

BOOKS! As you know, I've been reigniting my love for reading since a little before I moved to WA- mostly because it's cheap (I've fallen in love with my local discount book shop's clearance racks), and it's a great way to fill in dead hours and lunch periods at the day job and quiet evenings at home when I'm done with art. Especially now that it's warming up, sometimes I like to head outside for a walk and then settle down and read in the park. Once in a while I treat myself to a milk tea or something too.

I finished The Archive Undying by Emma Mieko Candon, and I loved it. I'm probably going to give it a second read because I think there were some parts I may have ADHD'd through and not quite absorbed, and the sequel should be out sometime this year too. I got The Archive Undying as a birthday gift last year, so the sequel might be the first brand new book I'll have purchased in a while lol- I'm super excited.

My friend that let me borrow Legends & Lattes picked up a copy of the prequel, Bookshops & Bonedust, which he let me borrow before he started reading it himself, and I devoured it. Much like the first, it's a super cozy little read- not much in the way of substance, very little in the way of world building or complex character relationships, etc, but rich in comfort and good feelings.

Right now I'm working on a collection of Lovecraftian/Cosmic Horror short stories called Horrors Beyond: Tales of Terrifying Realities, and I found a couple more books from my local discount book store I'll tackle after that: What Dreams May Come by Richard Matheson (honestly I did not know this was a book first- shame on me) and The Star Fraction by Ken Macleod. I got them both off the clearance rack for just a little over $5 bucks in all!

I'm also experimenting with audio books. While I'm doing relatively mindless logistics stuff at the day job, I'm listening to audio books in one ear of some things I've read a while ago, but since kinda forgot. My mom was always a huge Anne Rice fan and had proudly collected the entirety of her works, and so I read a handful of books from her library growing up (my personal favorite of what I've read myself actually being Cry to Heaven). One I remember reading but not really enjoying much was actually the first book in her Vampire Chronicles, Interview with the Vampire. I'm not a big Louis fan (I'm more in the Lestat camp myself) and found the book as a whole kinda dull, mostly due to Louis' weak and winging personality, but I've since decided to give it another shot as an audio book, and it IS at least better than I remember giving it credit for. I still don't care for Louis though, lol. I prefer to read myself, but audio books are nice just to keep my brain going with something in the background while I'm doing something otherwise fairly mindless, like alphabetizing and rearranging miniatures or beautifying shelves of product.

GAMES! Not a TON to talk about here tbh. I've mostly been playing FF7 Rebirth, and it's been... Good...? I finally beat it on Normal after about 150 hours trying to exhaust every sidequest and minigame as much as possible, and I've since begun my Hard mode NG+. The story is great, there are a couple parts I'm not fond of that feels like Nomura is just Kingdom Hearts-ing all over FF7, but it's good overall and the gameplay feels really good. The most frustrating part of the game by far is just all the minigames- mostly that in order to completely beat them all, you have to do them PERFECTLY- it's very unforgiving.

Gotta go for now. Talk later. :)

[mariacallous]

Simple roasted chicken is one of those dishes everyone wants to make perfectly, including me. And while I think I’ve done a pretty decent job in the past with my citrus and herb roasted chicken, I wanted to make it better, with a moist, flavorful inside, crispy outside and maybe even a side dish all wrapped into one pan. I wanted it all.

As I was working on this dish the past six months, I was getting frustrated that things just weren’t turning out the way I envisioned. The skin wasn’t quite crispy enough, and sometimes the inside was still pink. And so my husband came home one day with “Roasting: A Simple Art” by Barbara Kafka. I really love this book, and not just for her tips on roasting chicken.  But the tip I took to heart most of all was the cooking temperature.

Previously I had been cooking my chicken in a 400°F oven, but her roast chicken recipe called for 500°F. So I gave it a try, and it was one of the elements that has been missing to making a coveted roast chicken.

I also started adding a whole onion to the veggie mix and I really loved how it caramelized while cooking. You can usually find me eating most of the cooked onion before I actually serve the chicken. Oops.

You can use any spice blend you like, but I do recommend marinating overnight in a mix of dry and wet ingredients, such as dried or fresh herbs, citrus, wine, olive oil, soy sauce or fresh juice. I don’t use honey when I marinate because I find it tends to burn once you put it in the oven. Below I recommend the mix I like most for this dish, but you can really make any flavor combination you like.

I also recommend using either an upright chicken roaster (they cost less than $10 and they are awesome) or a classic roasting pan with rack, which is especially ideal for an all-in-one-dish like this. While the chicken cooks, the juices and seasoning drips down, flavoring the potatoes, carrots and onion with fatty chicken goodness. I think it’s really the best part.

And while roast chicken is a Friday night staple, I often find myself making a chicken like this at the beginning of the week, because it is truly an easy dish that is delicious and versatile to enjoy all week.

Note: The chicken needs to marinate in the fridge overnight, or up to 24 hours.

[oculusanubis]

UPDATE POST

Please scroll down to the first post on this page before reading this update.

New Oculus Anubis Post

Not even 24 hours after posting my write up on Oculus Anubis, I received a direct message from their revival Facebook page. I responded promptly but with suspicion - they wanted to meet. We agreed to a 6pm phone call, both of us on Pacific Daylight Time. 

When they picked up the line, I first informed them I was recording the conversation which rather than causing a brick wall to jump between us, my recipient didn’t blink an eye. “I'm an open book”, they’d said. As a potential buyer for the property, and the creator of the new non-profit named Oculus Anubis, this person is the one behind most of this recent online activity, including the TikTok page I discussed in my last post. It’s their own goal to purchase the property & renovate it as a community holistic healing center. Or, as her website states, “It will be a sanctuary where individuals can explore their spirituality, engage in meaningful events, and find solace in the presence of a supportive community”.

One thing I had found online, before posting my original write up, was the Facebook pages of a few family members in the Neal family. On several of their pages, a post was created and shared about the interested party. You can read more posts made by Alexa on the internet several years back about her grandma Sharon, found on the “Pictures Page”. Here is the post about Jasmine;

While Jasmine is the human involved in creating the new website, buying the domain, filing as a non-profit and wants to buy the land, we struggle with the legality (if anyone has legal background that wants to help, please reach out!). This case seems to be stuck in limbo. I've contacted every name listed on every court document ive been able to obtain, but from where I can see, the property is tangled up in court, still. Natalia has tried to get Sharon Neal evicted, however, this failed due to the bankruptcy court Sharon is in. This being said, the property deed was transferred to Rushmore Loan Services, LLC in 2022 & at one point in that year it was listed as “In Foreclosure'' which is why Jasmine found interest in purchasing to begin with.

Jasmine found this property from the internet and became intrigued, just like me & most likely yourself too. Already coming to Oregon, she decided to give the place a visit. With the online accounts about the family still living on their property, Jasmine reached out to a local realtor as well as the local sheriff before visiting. 

According to Jasmin the bank said that the Neal family should not be on the property but that they weren't ready to get law enforcement involved yet. Jasmine also tells me that the local sheriff, agreeing with this information, said anyone interested in purchasing the property has the right to visit it. However, the sheriff tells her, “We have no teeth in this”. Jasmine, with all this in mind, feels we might have stumbled into something bigger. A point that becomes more and more realistic as we continue to investigate this property and its occupiers. 

When Jasmine visited the Oculus Anubis location, she was only able to make it less than 100ft past the gate before being visited by Natalia and two young women (who may have been her daughters). After leaving an offering and having a silent moment with the Sekhmet statue, the trio appeared with a broom and shovels in hand. After a verbal altercation Jasmine & her partner were property “swept” off the land with Natalia physically pressuring them to leave with her bush broom.  

Jasmine got right to work, using her internet background to manifest her future vision for the property. This move has made way for dramatic reactions from Natalia, her family and even the neighbors.

Within a month of the site being up, Robert (Greg) Cantrell called Jasmine’s phone at 7am one morning. He goes on and on about how evil she is (repeats it twenty times in fact, I counted) and mocks her “spiritual calling” to the property. When Jasmine mentions an online rumor about lines of children being led from one part of the property to the next, rather than deny this, he says, “It's none of your business”. To Jasmine, this is a huge admission that something nefarious is going on.

Her claims of White Supremacy behavior from this family, is rooted in their tax evasion, using their power to take advantage of others as well as taking these spiritual monuments from another country and letting them essentially rot. Jasmine also notes to me during our phone call that she and her partner are “not quite white looking” and that Natalia's reaction to her being on the property may be rooted in racism. (This being said, when we look back years ago to an online video, we see “friends of Sharon” come onto the property to help move a statue to a safer location”, however, several minutes into this project, they get interrupted, yelled at and driven off the property by Natalia. These individuals were white. This is neither here nor there, but I think it is worth mentioning.)

Using Ai generated images to deliver visuals of Jasmine's goal for the property, she also invites donations, which she has been receiving steadily. These funds are for the future of this property, and as far as I know, aren't being used nefariously. Jasmine, being very transparent with me from our first conversation on the phone, shares receipts and tracks finances on an app she’s invited me to access. She’s also given me access to the website credentials, a folder full of information on the property and keeps me updated constantly as she builds what she believes is a case against an elite force of possible child traffickers. 

You may be wondering, what about the Halloween revival date mentioned in my last post. This event was canceled for a litter of reasons but I think regardless of what the Oculus Anubis website says, the bottom line is were no closer to understanding where our rights and the Neal family rights begin and end in regards to this property, and moving the event until we have a better grasp, lessened the likelihood for neighborhood arguments that could have ensued. Not to mention, most of the people interested in attending were not spiritually led or even in the loop about what's been going on. Bringing halfway educated individuals into a potentially harmful situation - not ideal. This being said, days before the date of the event Jasmine writes on the website that the reason for the cancellation was due to the conflict in Gaza & that it deserves our full support and attention. 

On November 17th, Jasmine sends me a link to a website for Pyramid Forest, a website with the same aesthetic as the Oculus Anubis website but a different color scheme, claiming to located in a forest in Oregon and “poised to be a world-class vineyard, and an extraordinary event and experience venue, providing unparalleled sensory and emotional journeys”. Even the images and paragraphs of information on the site feel just as Ai as Jasmine's page, down to the cheesy “team” photos & bios.

When we looked up their LLC, we found the business is listed as a Lodging & Conventions company, with none other than Sharon Neal listed as director. Really Sharon? Another business? We’re going to come back to Sharon too later in this post. According to filed documents with the Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) Pyramid Forest files under an address that isn't associated with a property and is actually just a stretch of highway. Vlada Neal, as far as I can tell, is a real human in the Neal family. In fact, I think this is our mystery woman from the Behind the Gates advertisements years back when Sharon illegally created that non-profit (under her old, maiden name) to pay her PGE bill. Vlada is listed as the Founder/CEO/Art Director even though the documents filed for LLC have Sharon listed as director. My suspicion is that Vlada is Natalia’s daughter from before her marriage with Anthony. Or even perhaps Anthony's actual daughter?

In their SEC we see that they registered with no net worth or income requirements for ‘accredited investors’, and investment minimum of $1,000 in filings. While this is just speculation, the SEC website warns in their “10 Red Flags That an Unregistered Offering May Be a Scam” in which they include filings with no net worth or income requirements for ‘accredited investors’, and investment minimum of $1,000 in filings is in fact, a red-flag.

Another noteworthy mention would be in the “sharp uptick in not only visitors to our own, unrelated site, but also a dramatic increase in brute force attacks and failed login attempts” on the Oculus Anubis website created by Jasmine. These attacks have not stopped and have only increased with time.

The Pyramid Forest website says its working with collaborators such as Edelweiss Construction and “Ardiry Winery” but when contacted, the winery had never heard of Pyramid Forest... in fact, none of the “contributors” know anything about it. I also can’t find their listed CPA on the team, James Brown at all. He looks like an Ai generated detective if you ask me. And Tony Perez, Sensory Architect & Perfumer, lives in New York (waiting to hear back from him on any connections). 

Oh yeah, and remember that guy Michael Allen Harrison that I mentioned on my first post? He is posting all over his website and social media accounts about his album project, ‘Pyramid Forest’. And no joke, we find him listed on the website as Pyramid Forest’s “Founder/CEO/Art Director”. We see him on the internet in several places, associated with Vlada Neal and the past Behind the Gates project. 

Now, back to Sharon. Remember that “Go-Fund-Me” that Sharon had made? I was honest to goodness a little bit worried about this woman & considered even calling in a wellness check on her. However, a tight source of mine tells us that the images of the smashed bathroom aren't even in Sharon's house at all and is actually located hundreds of yards away - the tennis courts bathroom that had been smashed by vandals years ago. This lie in itself, embedded on her “Go-Fund-Me '' is just another lie in hopes to ellisit money from the public; her M.O.. I question though, who helped her make this page & is therefore implicit to this lie? I can't help but side-eye Michael Allen Harrison, as he was sure to donate $100 to the “cause”. 

Another topic to mention is something a close source said they found on the Neal property, a structure of stalled cages. The structure is just short of falling apart, being overtaken by the brambles. Inside, a dead bird carcass had begun to fossilize. Jasmine believes that these cages are evidence that children have been held here amongst the processes of being trafficked by the Neal family. Certainly, it is a little sus. Sus because we know that Natalia Neal had registered a business called Sunny’s Organic Farms, which is still up and running, according to the website (website made by Mark Neal and updated as recently as Sept 4th). But how can that be if this is their chicken coop? All abandon like that. And it’s not like the chickens could be elsewhere because the business is registered to be operating out of the Oculus Anubis address. So if this is the coop for their business that they still have registered with the IRS - this is a red flag. However, I think the red flag is leaning closer to more fraudulent activity than it is to child trafficking.  Lastly, there's this Anthony guy. Anthony Curtis Neal, all grown up. Now, he goes by Anthony Curtis and seems to have made a successful career for himself as a Project Manager. He sticks out to us because after some digging, and I can't really get into the specifics of how I know this, but we know he’s tried hacking the Oculus Anubis site at least once, and we venture to assume he is the one behind all the attacks and that the one time we saw his username in a login attempt blew his cover. Rumor has it he is living on the property again - rumors founded onhis selling of his home in 2021 and that his new address is listed as the Oculus Anubis property location. My speculation? Anthony Neal started the original online rumors about the property, to get attention on the property and cause issues for his ex-wife. Working with Vlada, I assume that he’s now attempting to “clean up” the mess he made by changing public perception of the property through the webpage and Pyramid Forrest. Is this done just to change public perception so his family can be left in peace? Or, could it be because they realize the new found attention from Jasmine's website and intrigue, will unravel the other fraudulent activity they are a part of? I mean, if it quacks like a duck, waddles like a duck - it might be a duck. 

What do we do with this information? Apparently nothing for now. The cops want nothing to do with the property & until a lawyer gets involved my hands are tied because I have no actual proof of anything. I myself just had the goal of sorting through the drama for the sake of the public, so minds could rest at ease. The fact that I'm ending this right now with no feeling of ease is unsettling. Best I can do is continue to monitor and investigate the situation and hope for some sort of resolution soon. As of now, we have a team formed for research and while we welcome any help, a word of caution. Do not visit the property. Two sources tell me that the tension on social media regarding Oculus Anubis’ recent resurgence, has created a hostile front by the Neal family. As you see by the images provided to me below, this is a dangerous place to visit. Avoid the location, please. -Harriet

[tonyhightowerv1]

PARIS, FRIDAY

So after two weeks here, a couple of disturbing patterns are starting to emerge, and now’s the time to get to fixing them.

First: Except for a half-hour session at a all-expats playdate a week or so ago, I’ve talked to literally no other adults beside my wife since I got here. I knew I’d be socially isolating, but this is definitely going to get to me if I don’t do something about it.

People post on Social Paris Reddit from time to time looking for people to hang out with, but they’re invariably 24 year old backpackers looking to “party.” Now, much as I’d love to do that, that’s not really where I’m going with my life at the moment, and hanging out after hours with people less than half my age doesn’t hold the same allure it used to, even when they were my actual unhalved age.

* * *

Between the pandemic, the birth of my son, and this move, my life has turned completely upside down this last three years.

As a quiz host and speaker, I used to talk to hundreds of people a week. It was great. It was literally my job to be witty, and welcoming, and to tease the smart out of people.

But then the bars all closed, and then I had a baby that required constant attention and for some reason didn’t know any mnemonics for remembering South American capitals or Best Director Oscar winners or whatever (PEMDAS, kid. WORK WITH ME.), and then we moved to another country where my knowledge of the language is… well, I won’t starve to death, but my French hasn’t gotten better since I got here.

And so I’ve gone from 60 to zero awfully quick.

Even seeing it coming, even knowing this was going to be a psychic hit, it’s still jarring.

Now, normally, I’d lean into running to just keep my thoughts in order — it’s worked every other time — but for the first time since I was a teenager, I have a recurring ligament problem in my knee, and so for the last few months I’ve also been in pretty constant pain. I have a brace, but — my kid refers to me as “The Broken Racecar”, and, well, please let that not be how he knows me.

I went to a doctor here, and for some reason he didn’t seem to understand  I wasn’t able to explain to him that I’ve been in constant pain, and I need help.

His office was the most laid-back doctor’s office I’ve ever seen. It looked like a large, well-lit walk-in closet, or maybe a porn set. He took my vitals, his English was about as good as my French, and I kept bringing the conversation back to my knee, only to have him say, well, you have a brace, no?

I have a brace, yes, but —

Well then, you’re fine. You seem fine.

Look, I’m not fucking fine. I’ve been in pain every waking hour of the day since Thanksgiving. Ibuprofen isn’t cutting it. I need help.

Jo is being as sympathetic as she can, but this is clearly weighing on her as well. My role here is not to do what I’m currently doing — I’m only up writing at 4:30 am because I can’t sleep from the pain, but that’s not helpful for the stuff we need to do during the day — it’s to set up Jo’s office so she can get started with writing the two books she’s contracted to write this year.

My job is to take care of everything that isn’t Her Book Projects. Extra daycare, dropping off & picking up X from school, making dinner (Friday is Pizza Day, so that’s tonight’s meal), and keep up the house.

My job is not to get out and talk to strangers, because really, when am I gonna have time for that?

I wouldn’t mind getting back on learning French — that seems like a good use of my time, certainly better than writing these missives before the house wakes up — so maybe that’s useful. If I can’t get out of the house to shoot pictures or interact with this new city I now call home, the least I can do is widen the hole I have to climb through.

[percontaion-points]

Firstlife chapter 4

Today’s review might be difficult for some; readers discretion is advised. 

Click to see the rest of the snark & image descriptions

Chapter 4

“No! Gross! I’ve never jonesed for his scones.” She shudders. “It’s just...he’ll sleep with you and leave you brokenhearted in the rubble that has become your life.” Bow, who is obviously biased, has probably seen a distorted version of the truth. She’s never seen into Killian’s heart. 

Sweetie, you have literally known the guy for less than 24 hours. Don’t be so quick to dismiss Bow’s warning. 

Yes, the reader knows that Bow and Killian are on opposite sides of this war. But Ten doesn’t know that. 

I’d adored [Madame Pearl]. Once. She was the one who told my parents to send me to Prynne. I’d heard them talking. At first, my dad resisted the idea. When Madame promised him the experience would toughen me up, help me become the person I was meant to be, and snap me out of my pouty teenage refusal to sign with Myriad, he finally relented. Then he convinced my mother. 

Fair warning, but I’m probably going to be working through a lot of anger about organised religions with this book. 

But ah yes! You should 100% listen to a near stranger and send your child to jail so that she can be tortured… Simply because she refused to obey your brainwashing! THEY SOUND LIKE AMAZING PARENTS, I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT!!

Despite that tangibility, we’re forbidden from touching the Shells for any reason. Without being told why!

Ah yes, the cornerstone of organised religion: don’t do something, and don’t ask why you can’t do it!

Nine months have passed since Dr. Vans shot him in the chest.

I don’t know why they bother to continue the war in the afterlife; they’re doing a great job at making every human life as fucking miserable as possible. 

“I’m done with this subject.” I mean it this time.

 “Of course you are.” With an unfeminine grunt, she falls onto her pillow. “You’re a runner.”

The girl has been abused beyond belief. By her parents, by society, by the so-called “doctor” meant to take care of her, by the guards in this prison, by the other inmates…

And Bow is somehow surprised that Ten wants nothing to do with her?

“How old are you?” I find myself asking. 

“Nineteen.” 

ASK HIM HOW LONG HE’S BEEN 19!!

He leads me down the hall, into the commons, just not the commons I’m used to seeing. 

One corner of the room has been transformed. There’s a small candlelit table with two cushioned chairs placed side by side. Platters of food occupy every inch of the tabletop. There’s even a bottle of wine and a chocolate cake. 

I really hope that I don’t have to explain to anybody why the director and guards of a asylum/juvenile detention facility working so hard to set a PATIENT/PRISONER up on this sham of a date is beyond creepy. 

“I’m underage.” Eighteen, the legal age for everything nowadays, can’t get here fast enough. “If I drink any alcohol, I’ll be breaking the law.”

So they have laws about drinking alcohol under a certain age, but not about literally beating and raping CHILDREN?

Nice to know where their priorities stand. 

“Oh, and let’s not forget the time I was waterboarded. So fun!”

Drinking alcohol is bad, but waterboarding a 17 year old because she disobeyed her parents is 100% legal. Good to know where they’re drawing the line. 

“You have freedom. You have freedom right now. You had freedom yesterday, and the day before and the day before that. No matter where you are or what you’re doing, you have freedom of choice. You’re so afraid of making the wrong decision, you’re actually stagnant.”

They have the freedom to choose between A or B, or to be punished. So they literally don’t have freedom at all. 

Real free will would have the option to choose nothing at all.

I flip him off via the camera, continuing down the hall, heading for my cell.

Chapter 4 summary: Dr. Vans is DEMANDING that Ten go on this “date” with Killian, because he’s desperate to see her signed to Myriad (aka what her parents have paid him to do.) A nurse even forces Ten to change into a dress, or go naked. 

Before she goes, Bow starts talking about how terrible Killian is; that he’s a “love em & leave em” kind of guy. Despite Ten insisting that she’s not going to fuck him, Ten will not stop defending him. Bow then asks about Ten’s old boyfriend, who was a guard but he was killed by Dr. Vans 9 months ago. The conversation upsets Ten so much, and she kind of shuts down. 

She goes to meet Killian, who shows her some VR stuff. The excitement of seeing a pretty beach is quickly shut down when she realises that this is yet another Myriad sales pitch. They sit down to eat the dinner, and Ten eats an entire cake by herself. The only thing that Killian brought to drink is wine, so Ten gets a little drunk. 

Dr. Vans is watching them on the security cameras, and he insists that they keep talking about the realms, but when Ten refuses, he insists that they do “trust fall” exercises. Ten then says that since they have to talk about the realms, she’s going to ask him a lot of uncomfortable questions. The kind of questions that religions never want you to ask. This one is about “fusion”, which is basically reincarnation. Another one of those things that nobody can neither confirm nor deny. Since he refuses to talk in depth about that, she instead starts pressing him about his dead mother. 

But then she’s super wasted, and she stops making any sense. So she finally decides to leave, despite Dr. Vans yelling at her over the intercom to not leave. 

[ourlittledinosaur]

Sleep Transitioning Saga

New Post has been published on http://ourlittledinosaur.com/sleep-transitioning-saga/

Sleep Transitioning Saga

Watching My Baby Sleep

As I lay here watching my baby sleep during our new sleep training efforts, I have to chuckle to myself. I love these sweet moments with my son.

Pantley’s Gentle Removal Plan

One of the several techniques I am implementing with my 4 month old son is called “Pantley’s Gentle Removal Plan” from Elizabeth Pantley’s book, The No-Cry Sleep Solution.

Essentially this plan incorporates gently breaking the baby’s latch so that he or she can get accustomed to falling asleep without this association.

Pantley recommends starting with bedtime. I did this successfully the first night and then excitedly went to use it for nap time the following day.

My son makes me laugh because even at this young age, I believe his personality shines through. At night we primarily use a bassinet that side-cars next to my husband’s and my bed. During the day, my son’s naps are co-slept with me. I’m not sure why there needs to be such a stark contrast for him at this time, but I’m letting it fly so that he gets very good naps which are said to beget better nighttime sleeping.

For bedtime routine ideas, click here.

Today’s Nap Time

So I’m laying next to my baby and he’s doing that flutter suckling that nursing Mama’s know all too well. Ideally I would have broken the latch while he was still awake but drowsy, but I thought “any training is better than none”, so I proceeded to unlatch my son.

As expected, he rooted around, so I let him find me and suckle a bit. Once it became a flutter again, I silently counted to 10, and gently broke the latch again. Same thing.

The third time, I counted 1…,2…,…7… and when I got to 8, his suckle all of a sudden became more vigorous. I smiled and waited for the fluttering, then counted again.

The fourth time was much like the first two, but then on the fifth, once I counted to 10, my son broke the latch himself, and before I could think, “That’s good,” he fussed in protest and rooted. I laughed to myself realizing he had just detached himself in anticipation of what I was going to do and let me know exactly what he thought of that.

Unfortunately, that also ended the nap as he was then too agitated to go back to sleep. So I learned not to mess with him during nap time just yet. (That was just the first 24 hours of our sleep transitioning adventure. We’ll see how tonight goes.)

One Smart Baby!

When I told my husband what had happened, he laughed and praised our son for how smart he is. Shaking my head and knowing the truth of his words, I realize that some things are going to be all the more challenging because he’s smart!

Cherish Every Moment

Even though times are sometimes difficult, I cherish how small my son is and how very helpless. I  know he’ll never again be as little as he was today, and he’s twice the size he was when he was born. I have to admit, I love watching my son sleep. I love watching him during his feedings. I even love that I get to teach him how to sleep because right now he is so dependent on me and he doesn’t know a better way, even when this means I will get less sleep. These moments are so very fleeting and I want to take a mental snapshot of them and remember them always.

Share your story:

What special moments have you had with your baby or child? Tell us how smart he or she is!

“Indeed, You have made my days as handbreadths, And my age is as nothing before You; Certainly every man at his best state is but vapor. Selah” Psalm 39:5

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[luxcherry]

##˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ NO TURNING BACK | STAGE ONE

˗ˏˋ pairing; zombie apocalypse survivor! vinnie hacker x mixed! white american-korean! zombie apocalypse survivor! fem reader ´ˎ˗    

╰┈➤ IN WHICH, the incurable virus took less than 24 hours to tear humanity apart. it was ruthless, it was nothing but destruction. now, your only choice is to head towards a place called eden’s project. a safe community with people, supplies and electricity. on your way there, you come across another survivor named vinnie hacker. your walls of sceptic were up regardless you asked him to join you, after all, there are men in numbers, especially in a crucial time when the only thing in people’s minds is survival and betrayal and death are the only way.

ღ AUTHOR’S NOTE; this has to be the longest fic i have written. but i enjoyed every bit of it now, i will be writing up the request someone asked, hopefully, it will be much shorter than this because it is a simple request. but knowing me, i’ll probably go way above and beyond.

ღ CONTENTS; strangers to lovers, zombie apocalypse au, fluff, gore, angst, swearing, violence, slight suggestive content, graphic depiction of death, wounds, mention of cancer, sexual assault, use of weapons (guns, knife etc), blood, cannibalism, mentions of death and any others that i may have missed.

ღ WORD COUNT;  16 pages, 8.4k

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

THE SUN was setting on the golden horizon quicker than ever, the rotting pungent stench was unchanging and it was something everyone has gotten used to it at this point. Well - that’s if there is anyone out there alive at this point. Fresh air was a privilege. Yet there was something, eerily peaceful about how the world has been slowly taken over by the evergrowing lush greenery. It was like nature was finally taking over what was rightfully theirs.

Vinnie had no time to take in the wonderful fauna and fairy book-like city. Once the night dust settles, it’ll get even more dangerous. The living dead gets more active and they’re like killing machine. It doesn’t help the fact that he accidentally ended up in the forest at a desperate time like this.

❝Fuck.❞ He swears under his breath, panic surging and becoming more evident as he pants heavily, chest getting heavy. There were no houses coming into sight or any type of shelter. He needed something. An abandoned car would do it just as long as it is in a safe enclosed space.

Vinnie has travelled for months, he doesn’t know. How did he end up in this situation? He and his buddy, Jack escaped California when the virus was at its peak, fleeting to Oregon to head to his family up in Seattle. The virus was unstoppable, however, it just got worse and worse. Till Oregon was also hit with the virus at its peak. Vinnie and Jack were separated, Jack was nowhere to be found which left Vinnie in a slump. Lost. He was on the verge of breaking down.

But, he can’t give up now. No, now that he got this far. He’ll reunite with his family and his friend along the way.

He emerges from the dense forest, where he spots a small cabin, it looks like it was barely holding up. Wood was rotting and weathered, lime green slippery moss was sprouting on the roof, the windows were completely boarded up and a lone bench by the front porch. This would do. It looks secure enough, why complain about that?

❝Thank fucking Jesus.❞ Vinnie mutters out of reassurance. 

He makes his way to the cabin, occasionally pushing away the overgrown foliage out his path, squelching mud under his boots. When he gets to the front porch, the creaks of the floorboards was heard as he shifts from foot to foot, he takes a deep breath in and reaches for the doorknob.

❝Hello?❞ Vinnie calls out before knocking on the door. There was no response, he pushed the light rickety wooden door open. He entered, the light thumping of his boots and the weak floorboards underneath him made a light creak.

He gets a proper good look inside; there was a dining table in the middle of the room with a small lamp, a small bed in the corner, and a small window at the foot of it. Floating bookshelf with grey dust piling. A small night table with a rustic lamp on top of it, and on the right was a stone fireplace with some pots and pans hanging above it. Cabinet. A door that was leading to what he believes was a bathroom. A small kitchen on the other side of the cabin. With that, it was empty and no supplies were left behind. 

Figures.

Before he could step any further into the cabin, the door shut closed behind him, and a cold end barrel of a double barrel shotgun poked him from the back of his head. His heart banged against his ribcage and he could hear it loud and clear. The hairs on the back of his head were standing straight out. That’s it. He’s going to die right here, right now.

He began to pray for the heavens above. This was the way he goes and leaves the Earth. Please, somehow, someway, let his family know he loves them dearly.

❝Put your hands up in the air.❞ A voice commanded which Vinnie didn’t hesitate to obey, ❝Who are you?❞

❝I swear, I’m just here for shelter. The living dead get more active at night, I’m just here for the night. I promise you that.❞

The shotgun was pulled away, and there was slight relief that came from Vinnie’s perspective 

❝Turn around and make sure that your hands are still up.❞

Vinnie carefully and grudgingly turns to face, you, someone who was roughly the same age as him with a permanent glare and frown on her face, still threateningly pointing the shotgun at him. He gulps audibly, his mouth becoming dry as he mentally prepares an onslaught of begging to spare his life and he wasn’t here to harm you in any way. He will be leaving this place in an instant and he’ll go far, far away.

❝Do you have weapons on you and in your bag?❞

❝No!❞

You pressed the nozzle flat on his forehead,

❝I SWEAR! I REALLY DON’T, I’M JUST HERE FOR SAFETY! I CAN LEAVE!❞

You lowered your gun down, looking him up and down, before slinging it over your shoulder. Vinnie hesitantly lowered his hands back to his side. His adrenaline was hurling all over his body from what he believed was that last he could be a living, breathing human.

❝You’re here for shelter?❞

❝I really am. I swear. I’m not trying to do anything.❞

You look at him suspiciously.

❝Take out any weapons, you have and throw them on the floor.❞

❝I don’t have any.❞ Vinnie responds calmly. Well, at least try to appear calm.

You jab your finger at his chest,

❝Try anything, I won’t hesitate to throw you out and leave you out there to be eaten.❞

You warned him sternly, sidestepping him and bumping him purposely, he could hear the treading of your footstep. It was almost silent. No wonder, you went completely unnoticed. His ear picked up the clicking, a soft orangey light emitting from the small lamp placed starting from the middle of the dining table, the light swarmed nicely in the small cabin. He finally got to see your face.

The lustre radiating nicely contrasted your face. Shadows created from the curves of your nose, splattered with an occasional blemish here and there, light pinkish lips coming to a slight pout slightly chapped and sharp, serious eyes. You still had the intense look on your face.

Regardless, holy fuck. You’re so fucking gorgeous.

❝I-uh...❞ He didn’t know how to react. Why was he so awkward?

You jerk your head towards the chair on the opposite side of the table, Vinnie awkwardly shuffled to the other end, he slipped off his backpack, setting it down on the floor just by his feet. He watches you move and hover on the counters, setting some bowls then popping open a can. You turned back around where you held two bowls in each of your hands,

❝Here.❞ Sliding him a cold bowl of tomato baked beans with the metal spoon already in it.

❝Beans?❞

You place your own bowl on the table, pull out your own chair take a seat then slip off the gun around your torso and prop it up right next to you.

❝What? You got time to be picky at this time?❞ You raised your eyebrows at this, reaching out for his own bowl and dragging it away from him, ❝Go find yourself some food that you’ll be willing to eat then.❞

Vinnie abruptly stopped you by the wrists.

❝No, no. Beans are perfect.❞

Vinnie’s first impression of you; was rigid, serious and extremely paranoid. Not that he blamed you for being the way you are, he doesn’t know you nor does he know your story. You’ve probably gone through a lot of things in this accumulated treacherous, savage and vicious environment. It makes sense. Hell, even the little noise, he hears, had him leaping and he was ready to fight or just sprint.

❝Do you have water with you?❞ You spoke up. Staring straight into the beans and stirring the spoon around.

❝Yeah, I do-❞

You cut him off right away.

❝Good. Supplies are scarce, right now. I don’t have enough with me to share with you.❞

There was the silence that settled once again, Vinnie didn’t like it, but he didn’t know how to continue the conversation further. He desperately wanted it to. This was the first ever person he made contact with ever since he got separated from his best buddy. Think, Vinnie, think!

A sudden loud bang came from the window followed by an inhumane groan and high-pitched shrieking. It went up an octave and lowered back down, it was almost like someone had poured hot molten lava all over him on a continuous loop. It kept banging and banging, wanting to get into the cabin, every strike gets louder and louder with the seconds that passed. At any given moment, Vinnie swore, it might just break in.

Calmly, you stood, the chair scraping against the floor, walking up to the window then drawing the curtains together. One by one, you drew all the curtains around the cabin, then you come back to the table, reaching to crank the lamp down. Ultimately dimming the lights down. The whole cabin was almost pitch black despite that he could still make out your silhouette.

❝You’re pretty calm for a person with a living dead banging on the window.❞ Vinnie points to your lack of uneasiness, shoving a spoonful of beans into his mouth, struggling to swallow it. Barely passing his throat. It was terrible. Inedible. As you said though, why be picky at this time?

❝Used to it.❞ You plop back down to your seat, ❝I barricaded the windows as soon as I got here. You just do the rest of the work, don’t do anything to attract them. They’re moths to a flame, a little amount of light and too much noise will make them swarm.❞

❝How long have you been here?❞

He notes that you haven't taken a bite of your food.

❝Just arrived this morning.❞ 

❝Why pick out this place? It’s… Kind of falling apart.❞ He carefully chose his words conscientiously. Hey, you may never know, what if you were a crazy person who gets offended and just shoots him? 

❝I’m not planning to stay here long term. As you said, they get more active at night. I would be caught dead being outside this time.❞

Once again, the silence hovered, it's like you were intentionally shutting him down and building a large wall that he would not climb over.

The banging continues to persist. Though, now, it seems like there were more than one living dead deciding that their next meal is inside the cabin.

❝Fucking shit.❞ You cursed, stomping over to the windows, ripping the curtains open and peeking through the small crack of wooden planks that barricaded the windows.

❝You've got to be fucking with my shit.❞ You whisper harshly then turning your attention back to Vinnie who looks at you confused, ❝Hey!❞

❝Grab that baseball bat by the bed!❞ You ordered.

❝We're clearing them off. There's like fifteen of them outside, if we don't, more are going to gather. Next thing you know, a horde of them!❞

You pocket a knife and pick up the axe by the fireplace.

❝We're not going to be the only ones having a nice dinner tonight! So, get your ass up, now!❞

Vinnie did as you were told.

❝Why can’t you use your gun?!❞

He panics,

❝Are you stupid?! Are you deaf?! Or are you both?! I just told you! These things are like moths to a flame, any noise or light will attract them! So, slap yourself in the face and be prepared to kill them off!❞

You swung the door open, and with the right amount of momentum; you swung the axe at the first living dead by your door. The sharp part digging right into its skull, there was a crack that resonated with a mixture of shrieks and groans. It was something that Vinnie had never heard before; he figured that it might be the sound of its skull splitting in the middle.

He followed closely behind you, he swung directly at its jaw, its head spun and permanently faced sideways. He didn’t hesitate to swing once again aggressively, this time its head popped off flying somewhere. A rotting hand slapped right on his shoulder, his adrenaline was pumping throughout his body, he reached for it and ripped it away from him followed by another swing of the bat right at its torso.

This went on for hours or in Vinnie’s perspective, all night, what it felt like all night. It felt endless. He swore that they just kept coming, you were right if you didn’t clear them out as you said. It isn’t going to be a pretty sight. It makes him sick to his stomach to even think of that possibility.

You slid down to the floor in exhaustion, the axe clanging beside you completely caked in blood and brain matter. Vinnie shuts the door behind him firmly and plops a seat beside you, tossing the baseball as rolls across the floor, he has his legs stretched out. His jeans were either soaked in blood or mud, he didn’t know. At this point, he could care less. He was on the verge of passing you. If he slumps over at the bed for sure, sleep would sweep him away.

❝There’s a bathroom over there.❞ You point at the door, it was the same one that he suspected was a bathroom, ❝You have guts all over your clothes.❞

❝I could say the same about you.❞

❝Well, you look exhausted, I’m staying up for lookout tonight. You can go to bed.❞

Vinnie groans getting up to his feet, why pass up the offer not being a lookout and missing out on the sweet, sweet ecstasy that is called sleep?

❝Sounds great. Then, the next thing I’m in the afterlife.❞

You snort,

❝Please, if that were the case, you wouldn’t be talking right now. You would have been some midnight snack for the living dead, right now.❞

Vinnie nods his head and shrugs.

❝Fair point.❞

He didn’t know how he got in bed or when he fell asleep. The next thing you know, he found himself cocooned up in his sleeping bag in the one sole bed in the cabin, it was morning time, he could tell, with the bright light peeking from the small cracks of the boarded window. You were nowhere to be found yet he could see your things are still here; like your backpack. It felt nice having to sleep without the worry of being eaten alive, for the first time in months, he got a good night's sleep. He felt refreshed and all the exhaustion that he’s been carrying was lifted off his shoulders.

Vinnie swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a while staring off into space unsure of what to do. The door slams open, revealing yourself who held a chicken by its feet, droplets of blood dripping on the floor. You slipped off the gun and propped it against the table then walked over to the kitchen area and slammed the dead animal on the counter making Vinne jerk out of his skin.

❝It seems like you had a great sleep.❞ You turn to face him raising your eyebrows questioningly, ❝You’re not going to complain about having chicken for breakfast, are you?❞

❝No, no. Chicken sounds great.❞ More than great. It’s fucking phenomenal.

❝I’m not making a meal that will make you feel horrible and sick. I found some rice in the cabinet and picked up a couple of spices. I’m making some congee. It’s rice porridge if you’re wondering.❞

He didn’t know what you were doing but shit you were working some magic. It smelled divine. The aroma was God-sent. Vinnie could feel his mouth water immediately. Time passed by in a quick flash, the next thing you know, you were placing the bowls on the table. Maybe it was hunger that was making Vinnie hallucinate? 

He didn’t wait for you to call him to the table, he was already moving on his own, and his stomach was twisting and growling from hunger.

The first bite he took, he was lost, in a good way.

❝How is it? It’s not much but it's a great Asian staple.❞ It was much better than canned beans. It was like Vinnie was experiencing a five-course meal at a Michelin restaurant, fuck, a freshly home-cooked meal from the stove was something he didn’t realise he missed dearly. He could shed a tear right now. 

This was, simply put it, heavenly. It might not be much but it’s much better than some reheated crap that you opened from a can.

❝What do you think?❞ Vinnie says as he scarfs down the contents of the bowl, savouring the simple and homely flavours.

❝You can have the whole house to yourself. I’m leaving as soon as I’m done eating breakfast.❞ You shove a spoonful into your mouth.

❝You’re leaving? Already?❞

❝Yes, I need to head to Minnesota and I’m not looking back.❞ You say determinedly,

❝But, Minnesota is so far away! It will take you years to get there!❞ Vinnie says in disbelief.

❝Not really, if I travel like this consistently, I’ll get there in a couple of months. I travelled quite far in just roughly 4 months from state to state.❞

Vinnie shook his head in disbelief

❝Oregon to Minnesota… Damn.❞

You look up. Eyebrows furrowed together,

❝Oregon? What are you talking about?❞ Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, ❝You do realise, you’re in Wyoming, right?❞

❝Hold on, hold on, hold on. In where?❞ Vinnie looked like you had shattered his whole world in a matter of seconds, he dropped the spoon into the bowl, making a loud clinking sound.

❝In Wyoming?❞ You repeat.

❝Fuck...❞ He swears under his breath burying his face in shame, ❝How do you know we’re in Wyoming?❞

He wanted for you to be wrong so bad, there is no way, he was heading North towards Seattle the last time he checked.

❝Um…❞ You reach for your pocket and took out a tiny folded piece of paper and wave it around, ❝Been following a map to get there.❞

❝I swear… I was heading North and kept going, I guess not… Wyoming…❞ He was defeated at this point. Vinnie was swallowing the wallows of shame.

❝Well, even if this isn’t the place where you intended to go, you’re still heading the right way.❞

❝What do you mean?❞ Vinnie peeks through the gaps in his fingers,

❝Well… Considering, Eden’s Project is located somewhere in Canada, any other state bordering it is completely shut off, and the pick-up point is in Minnesota. So, if you’re looking for a safe settlement, that is where the open border is.❞

He was even more confused.

❝What? Eden’s Project? Canada? What are you talking about?❞

This time you’re the one who dropped the spoon.

❝Holy… Fuck…❞ Jaws to the floor, ❝Have you been aimlessly wandering from state to state and not knowing where you are, the settlement and the pickup point?❞

You list off the faults that he had made.

❝How long have you been travelling?❞

❝Weeks? Months? I don’t even fucking anymore! All I know is that I was separated from my friend after driving out of California after the shitshow that went down! I should be in Oregon not fucking Wyoming! If it wasn’t for another breakout there!❞

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose, the headache you were gaining from this conversation was astounding. You felt terrible for the guy honestly. You don’t know what his agenda is for wanting to head up North, you don’t want to ask nor do you plan to. If his friend wasn’t as terrible at direction as he was, he most likely ended up in the settlement already, that's if the border hadn't closed up in Seattle. He was completely lost and on the verge, if not, already on a mental breakdown. 

You’re aware that he’s a complete stranger. He could do anything that would cost you, your life. Ironic. But, despite that very serious concern of yours, you couldn’t get rid of that humanity that was lacking in this world at this time.

❝Do you want to travel with me to Minnesota? Your friend, I assume, will most likely be in Canada if he headed North unlike you.❞

❝Oh yeah, I so, would want to travel with someone who pointed a shotgun at me last night! Where I could have died! That’s a wonderful idea!❞ Vinnie exclaims sarcastically accompanied by dramatic hand gestures.

You purse your lips together. Well, he made up his mind, you are already packed and are ready to go.

❝Suit yourself. Nice to meet you and good luck.❞ You shrug. Standing up, the chair making a loud scraping noise, you pluck up your gun and slip on your backpack already by the door. Walking out the door, shutting it behind you, leaving him completely by the table, shocked. Unable to speak.

❝Wai- No.❞ Vinnie hurries to gather his own things before bolting out the door. You were already a good distance away from the cabin, so focus on the map already planning your route. He sprints failing to shrug on the straps, once he finally catches up to your side, panting.

He asked,

❝I’m only joking, you know that, right?❞

❝Nope. If you don’t want to tag along, fine by me. Feel free to have the cabin.❞

❝I’m coming with you!❞ He declares.

❝Cool. Keep up then. We have to hurry up and find a safe place to be, we’re missing precious daylight.❞

❝The cabin was okay. Why can’t we stay there longer? Until we find a car or something.❞

You shook your head.

❝Too risky. As you said, a cabin barely holding up, if we go out looking for a car, we’ll just call the attention of the wrong people. They’ll see supplies and people settled in there, and we’ll be in trouble.❞ You fold up the map, stuffing it in your back pocket, ❝We’re no longer the civilised, law-abiding people. We’re like wild animals now who will do anything to survive.❞

You look at him,

❝And where do you plan to find a car in the middle of a forest?❞

Good point.

❝I guess. We’ll just get whatever we come across then.❞

You stopped walking. Leaves stopped crunching as Vinnie followed suit.

❝What?❞

❝I don't know your name.❞ You stuck your hand out for a handshake, ❝Just cause, we're in these circumstances, doesn't mean we shouldn’t have the courtesy.❞

❝My name is (First name).❞ You finally introduced yourself,

He grasped your hand and shook it firmly.

❝Vincent. But, I much prefer being called Vinnie.❞ 

You nod in acknowledgement. You were the first one to pull away.

❝So,❞ He starts off, as you begin walking, ❝Do you know why they chose Minnesota out of all places? I mean, there are so many states bordering Canada. Why just one?❞

❝Well, from what I've been told. It's about control. There should only be one entrance and exit, if you choose to live somewhere else, it would be too chaotic and unorganised if everywhere else is opened.❞ You explained.

 ❝Make sense.❞

People are desperate at this point to get somewhere safe. It'd be difficult if they kept letting people in constantly.

❝It’ll be dangerous getting there. So, do you have a weapon?❞

❝No. I already told you.❞ Vinnie was quick to deny it.

❝I know you're lying to me. You'd be stupid walking around without one.❞

❝Then, why did you believe me when I said 'no' back in the cabin?❞

❝A desperate lying man would rather live and be safe than be out there eaten alive.❞ You paused then turned to face him, ❝Show me.❞

You demanded,

Vinnie jumps at the tone of your voice, he begins patting down his pockets, pulling out a small screwdriver. Presenting it out so proudly like he was at a show and tell presentation back in elementary school once again.

❝That’s it?❞ You raised your eyebrows at him. Crossing your arms together, adjusting your stance and smiling at him amusingly. Shifting your eyes to somewhere else, avoiding eye contact and pressing your lips together trying to hold your laughter in. He definitely is lost.

❝Well, with everything going to shit, what am I supposed to do?!❞ Vinnie flails his arm around in a panic, ❝I have to make do of what I can get!❞

❝Having an additional weapon like a baseball bat and a knife would be a better option instead of just having just a screwdriver. Grabbing that baseball you used last night could have been a good idea, Vincent.❞

❝Don’t call me by my Government name, that’s terrifying.❞

You snort.

❝Have you ever shot a gun before?❞

 ❝I-I’ve, you know, I could-❞ Vinnie attempts to stutter a lie. You are a pretty girl with a lot of badass knowledge, you’ve been travelling and surviving for, God knows how long. He wanted to impress you too. Make himself appear as that gun-slinging man to make up for to clueless behaviour he displayed.

He coughs to clear his throat,

❝Yes.❞ Vinnie simply stated.

❝Good. Let’s find you a gun and pick up some supplies.❞ You pat his shoulder before threading on, ❝Oh, and Vincent?❞

❝Yeah?❞

❝Just so you know, I don’t like beans either. Try not to pick up too much of that shit.❞

The views are breathtaking with every turn, it was all you saw, as you battled the great lengths of the mountains and hills. Its beauty within it and watercolour washed pastel blue sky. There was something unnatural yet natural about everything, though, quietness and stillness were something that came with it yet you could feel the tension. Perhaps, the unnerving thought of humanity crumbling under its feet was always stuck at the back of your mind, where you no longer appreciate it. On the other, your companion looked as carefree as the roaming free birds that soared across the sky.

He looked at everything with curiosity. Wonder. Without care, worry or thought of the world’s current state. You don’t get it. You don’t think you’ll ever get it. You will forever be as rigid as a rock. Hard. Unmoving.

❝This view is sick.❞ Vinnie says breathlessly.

❝I guess.❞

❝Come on, relax, a little. Enjoy this place a little bit.❞

You sigh,

❝We can’t. We have to keep trekking to where we need to get to.❞

❝Fine.❞ Vinnie almost whines like a child, ❝You have to agree though, this view is spectacular!❞

You said nothing. Ignored him. Kept walking down the small hill. Vinnie took a deep breath in and followed you closely, it will take time for you to open up, he sees that. But, he’s sure, you’ll open up like a beautiful blossoming soft-petalled flower on the first day of spring.

It had been hours; there was nothing but just endless forests, and the chance of finding shelter tonight was turning from slim to none. Honestly, it was making you anxious. The tightness, felt like there was a sack filled with sand placed on top of your chest. You were losing sensation in both of your arms like there were millions of ants crawling on them.

Vinnie picked up on your usual fidgeting. He tried striking up a conversation to keep your mind off it but came to no avail, all of it was met by one-word answers consisting of ‘yes’, ‘no’ or something along the lines of ‘quit messing around, we have to keep moving’. It was getting dark out.

❝We could camp out here.❞ He suggests,

❝We could. If it weren’t for that building over there.❞

You point to the little lone building; you began sprinting, almost tripping even and Vinnie followed closely. You didn’t care you were being whipped in the face by the branches outstretched.

❝Hey! Slow down!❞ Vinnie calls out as ducked and evaded, well, he tried to, but he got a face full of lashing from the low-lying tree branches. Muttering a low mumble of ‘ow’ under his breath as he tried to keep up with you.

It was a fairly small lone building in the middle of nowhere with the American flag hanging vertically on the front building, lashing against the violent blow of the wind, the entrance was sealed off by metal shutters. The side of the brick building was rammed by a dark blue matte car, a huge hole was where the car has crashed into. The vehicle stood no chance as anyone might expect, with some bits of the building completely shattering the front window.  It was crushed like a Coke can. There were no doors on it already, you could make out a figure slumped on the steering wheel. 

You could tell, they have been gone for a long time. The smell even from where you stood.

❝Holy fuck…❞ Vinnie was at a loss for words as you slowly come to approach the car, the recognizable stench was not something ignored, it was even worse when you get close. An unforgettable sight. Even being surrounded by death all the time, you’ll never get used to it.

❝Be careful. There might still be danger lurking around.❞ You warn.

❝Yeah…❞ He looks away and follows you to the front, you reached for the crowbar strapped to the side of your backpack crouching and shimmying between the floor and the metal shutters, giving a good push down prying a small space open. Vinnie hooked his hands from under the shutters, lifting them up to his knees, so you could crawl under them, you held the shutter in the same fashion as Vinnie, and a loud groan passed your lips. He quickly crawled in.

You let the shutters go, emitting a loud rattle.

❝Well, if the living dead heard that, at least we’re safe.❞

❝Yeah…❞ You look alleviated, the anxiety was washed off you, ❝Gather anything useful. I’ll grab you a gun or anything that be used as a weapon.❞

He nods as you disappear to the back of the building.

It was a run-down house slash store combination, it was completely trashed and things were strewn about, some furniture was turned overturned, and shattered windows were not completely boarded up. Nothing really major to note. It was a little too dark for his liking but that’s about it. Vinnie explored the room, plucking anything that can be useful and setting some canned food aside. A water bottle here and there, where it wasn’t even in a subpar condition. Bright green moss growing in there.

You emerge holding a shotgun.

❝Hey. I found a gun, this is going to be much better off than the screwdriver but keep it with you still.❞ You hold it out for him to take, ❝Here.❞

❝I-❞ Vinnie was hesitant to take it from your hand,

❝Do you want to die?❞

He didn’t hesitate to take it. You are looking at him up and down,

❝You’ve never shot a gun before, haven’t you?❞

❝I have-❞

You interrupt him,

❝Don’t lie to me. It’s better you’re honest with me now. You’ll put us in more danger than pretending to be all cool.❞ You read him like an open book, read between the blurred lines like you've known him for years. It was terrifying, to say the least,

❝How did you know?❞ That is all he could ask.

❝Well, considering how uncomfortable you look and the fact that your finger is hovering over the trigger when you're not ready to shoot. You could have killed us at any moment.❞ You point at the fatal flaw that Vinnie has done; prying his fingers away from the trigger.

❝Sorry.❞

You held a finger up.

❝Rule number one, don't point it at people when you're not intending to shoot even if you think it's unloaded.❞

You raised another finger up.

❝Rule number two, if you're not certain to fire at something or someone, don't hover your finger over the trigger.❞

He lets your words sink in; each syllable, as he slowly comes to understand the extra weight of great responsibility and repercussions that came with holding the weapon. Not that, he didn’t know, no, it was all coming at him like the waves crashing to the shore.

You placed your hands on him and nodded,

❝Good. One more thing to keep in the back of your mind, Vincent. We have to make every shot count.❞

He looks up to meet you in the eyes.

❝We're no longer regular people. We are survivors. We have to fight for our lives every single day, do you understand?❞

❝Yes.❞

❝Okay.❞

You stayed the night there. It was fairly a safe place. You and Vinnie didn't really talk much; ate dinner that you prepared, and you slept on the opposite side of the room, all done with no words exchanged. There was no danger that arose during the night so you had managed to get a wink of sleep. The flight of anxiety prevented you so, throughout the still night, you listened to Vinnie's even and slow breathing.

The morning came, sooner than you expected,

❝Goodmorning.❞ Vinnie greets sleepily, his voice deep and with a slight 

❝I'm not really hungry. Do you want anything?❞ 

❝No. Also, you're not responsible for making food for both of us. I'll make it too if you don't feel like it.❞

You stare at him for a second, he couldn't help but fidget on the spot. If he was being honest right now, he felt guilty, he felt like he'd just tossed a whole responsibility on your shoulder. Like he was some sort of another mouth to feed and not another asset. Vinnie felt bad. 

It felt like you were doing everything yourself like you were babysitting him.

❝Habit. But, if it bothers you, let's split responsibility. You go hunting for anything edible then I'll be the one cooking it.❞

❝That's a deal.❞ Vinnie agrees with the bargain, ❝Are we leaving now?❞

You nod firmly,

❝Yes. The sun is rising, we’re already both awake and we emptied this house already to its full potential, we need to keep moving. Don’t leave anything behind.❞

You leave the premises the same way you came in, however, Vinnie held the metal shutters open so you could squeeze out first. Just as you were about to squeeze out, a living dead grabbed Vinnie by the ankle and began tugging at him. He backs away letting the shutters drop, completely cutting it off cleanly as it lets an inhumane scream. He kicks off the limb clutching onto his ankle, and the living dead began to bang aggressively.

❝Fuck. Is there a back door?!❞

❝No! Let’s go!❞ You call for sprinting up the stairs with Vinnie following closely behind, your ears picked more and more gathered outside and the increased volumes of groans. There were more gathering outside as seconds passed by. Going straight to the door at the end of the hallway to your right, 

A living dead lunged at you coming for your neck knocking you off your feet and pinning you firmly onto the floor, its yellowing teeth baring at you and its blueish face near yours, there was no life behind those eyes anymore. It was sheened with an unnatural opaque cloudy purple and greenish hue. Its humanity is long gone. You held it by the shoulder preventing it from chomping and eating you alive.

❝FUCK!❞ You were kicking your feet trying to push it off you, Vinnie swung the butt of his own shotgun on its head, brain matter splattering on the walls. You push the collapsed body on top of you. He held out his hand and helped you back up,

❝Come on!❞ He held your hand tightly as he tugs your hand to follow him into the room, he shuts the door and you ran to open the window. It was quite a bit of drop but it was the only way out. You have to leave now.

❝You think we can jump this?❞

❝Well, either we jump now or we’ll be here and more of them will be waiting for us outside.❞ 

Vinnie carefully shimmied himself out the window reaching for the piping to climb down on, but due to its decaying stage, it cracked under his weight and toppled over, where he came crashing down violently on the ground. 

❝Vincent! Look out!❞ A living dead lunges straight at him, pushing him onto the ground. The dead stood no chance, you didn't hesitate shooting it at the back of its skull. Head exploded. You were quick, this was it. The game of survival you talked about. There was no time to be hesitating and diddle around. Or your life will be the price you pay.

Vinnie looked startled for a second but he snapped out of it, grabbing his shotgun, pumping the rearguard and pushing it forward. 

❝Come down! I’ll cover for you!❞ He starts shooting albeit clumsy and clearly inexperienced. Jerking from the violent recoil he didn’t mentally and physically prepare for.

The gunshot was attracting it towards you.

❝Let’s go!❞ You screamed finally landing the huge leap you took from the second floor, readying yourself with your gun.

The two of you ran for your lives, legs pumping, with a horde following closely behind you. A predator chasing after its prey. To be devoured. Sinking its teeth deep down to your skin and bones.

Vinnie spots an abandoned warehouse. 

❝Over there!❞

You ran for your lives,

Once you got there, you and Vinnie immediately shut the door close locking it behind, you hurried to push a large piece of furniture blocking off the entrance as the horde’s banging continued against the metal doors as they try to break in.

❝Fuck… At least, this is better than that place.❞ Vinnie pants, finally breathing, he was fucking terrified. He never got into that situation ever in the time that he was travelling alone. A horde. Like a terrifying tsunami, ready to sweep with its powerful rush of water, it was starting to click more in place, the sole reason why no matter what, you were always on the move.

❝Yeah… Let’s find another exit. Get the fuck out of here.❞ 

The place was a complete wreck and things were completely toppled over, there was a random puddle of water that reached up to your ankles from the leaking rusting pipe above you, it led to a large pool of water, and the top surface of the water shimmering from the light shining down from the open ceiling.

❝You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.❞ You cursed thinking about how you have to suffer with soaking socks and shoes till you get to your next destination, and you aren’t even entirely sure if it’s going to be completely bone dry on your next move.

❝This is going to be a fucking pain in the ass travelling with wet shoes.❞

❝Tell me about it. Well, we’ll just start a fire to help it dry quicker or at least… Dry enough.❞ You shrug, lifting your shogun above your head to avoid it getting soaked and slowly stepping into the cold body of water, you shivered. Vinnie also steps in lifting his own shotgun above the air, the two of you slowly navigate through the chest-deep water, to get to the other side where hopefully you’ll see an exit out of here.

❝It’s fucking freezing!❞ Vinnie’s teeth chattered,

❝Let’s try to hurry up and get out of the water.❞ You look over your shoulder warning him, ❝Be careful and try not to slip.❞

Vinnie chuckles.

❝I’ll try.❞

There was a light splashing water occasionally moving any floating rubbish and plants obstructing your way. Eventually, you get to the other end, completely soaked and your shoes squelch every step you took. It was disgusting and uncomfortable. You felt extremely cold and exposed, it didn’t help the fact there was a light breeze.

❝Fuck me.❞

❝I just hope there are spare clothes and shoes laying around here. I don’t think I can handle travelling like this.❞

❝Tell me about it.❞

❝I’m craving hot tomato soup and some bread.❞

❝Sounds fucking awesome.❞ Vinnie kicks his feet lightly to get at least the majority of the water out, ❝Let’s keep moving?❞

You nod. 

❝Got a torch on you? It’s a bit darker further in.❞

❝Uh…❞ Vinnie pats the chest pocket of his jacket, and he pulls out a tiny torch which was the size palm of his hand, ❝Is this good enough?❞

You snort.

❝Well, you must be fun in bed.❞ You said before walking away leaving Vinnie startled.

❝Don’t insult it! It’s all about the motion of the ocean!❞

Sure, that could be the case but not for the little guy, it was barely illuminating anything in front of you. You’d be way better off without it as it didn’t do much help.

❝Are you sure about that?❞

❝Okay… Maybe you’re right but I stand by my words.❞ Yet it was better than nothing, you'd be walking blindly into danger if you were to step in the dark like that. Vinnie took the lead, and you followed him closely. The dark led you into an office, you were guessing it used to be the manager’s office, especially with the number of metal drawers filled with soggy paperwork and folders, there was bright green mould on it. Dust collecting on the desk.

❝Oh, look…❞ You pick a rusting machete, ❝That horde outside is going to get more aggressive if we start shooting in here. Machetes or anything preferably silent is going to be handy.❞ 

❝Well, it seems like, after that, luck is gaining on our side.❞ Vinnie says, approaching the emergency pulaski that still remained in its box, he unlatches the lock and opens the glass door, he takes it out of the box. Held it firmly in his hand,

You began to head out of the office looking for an exit. There stood a dead twitching and slightly hunched over clutching his head like it was in pain, with its back turned towards you, the thing was groaning audibly. It seemed like; they were just recently infected. There was still some colour and breath of life in its skin. The stench of rotting was still absent. Everything about it was still fresh.

Taking initiative, you quietly snuck up behind it. Holding your breath. Hands gripping tightly onto the hilt of the machete. You approached and held it firmly in your grasp, it flailed around trying to desperately get away and hissing at you. Holding the sharp edge and digging deep into its neck then digging into the soft skin. It stopped, you let go and it fell limply onto the ground.

Another took notice of you, it came running but Vinnie intercepted it before it could even get near you, he hack the pulaski right at its head stopping it in its track and also falling down to the ground with a loud thud.

❝Let’s get out of here. I’m freezing.❞

You nod.

❝Yeah…❞

Then something caught your attention before you could leave.

❝Hey… What the fuck is that?❞ You point towards the silhouette of a man. Though it was dark, you could still tell someone was standing there. Not still, it was twitching and moving in an unordinary and almost uncontrollable way. Quivering like it was the cold. Contorting its body in an unnatural way. You couldn't explain it.

❝I have no fucking clue but, I think it's not a great idea to be seen by that.❞

Then it slowly turned around to face where you and Vinnie currently stand, stepping out of the shadows.

You have never seen anything like it. Horrifying. When you thought, you'd seen the worst of it all. This is a different stage of decay; its face was split right down the middle from the top of its skull down to where its nose is supposed to be, growing inside of it was a hardened symmetrical calloused fungal light yellowing colour with red tips. Skin is an almost entirely white thick leathery layer.

Everywhere on its body looked like there were circular boils and growing fungi. It made a weird clicking sound that rang throughout the warehouse.

You don't know what it is nor do you have knowledge of this whole virus but, one thing is for sure, it's evolving. 

Your heart was beating wildly.

❝Let's slowly back away. I wouldn’t want to mess with whatever that thing is.❞

You and Vinnie carefully take a step back, gradually, occasionally looking behind and keeping a keen eye on whatever that thing is. Feet getting caught at the legs of the chairs.

Shattering a glass bottle, its head whipped once again towards your direction. Letting out a series of clicks.

❝Fuck.❞ You run to hide and cowered behind the desk, Vinnie follows suit. Readying yourself with the rusting machete in your hand. The thing only stood where the bottle had rolled to as it let out another series of clicks and screech. It was defeaning. 

Vinnie spots another strayed bottle by his feet, he picks it up and clutches it before chucking it with all his might in the other direction, your ears could pick up the shattering noise. The clicker whips its ugly head towards the noise, it screeches once again, before sprinting towards it.

You two emerge behind the desk and began heading the opposite where it ran to, 

❝I think those things are just attracted to a loud nose. Good thinking on the machete.❞

❝I don’t even want to think about a horde of them coming at us all at once.❞

❝Have you seen anything like that? It looked completely different to what we encounter every day.❞

❝No, I haven’t.❞ You take a deep breath, ❝The virus is mutating or there could be another type of virus out there that could have bound with it.❞

❝This whole thing is getting terrifying every minute that passes.❞

❝Tell me about it. Whatever that thing is, we avoid it as much as possible till we find out how to kill it, properly.❞

❝You don’t have to tell me twice.❞

You and Vinnie attempt to go around the warehouse trying to find the exit but either you end another part of the warehouse or the doors are completely blocked by a chest of cabinets piled up on top of each other, an attempt to push it off was a fail. It didn’t even move an inch, it was a solid wall. Probably it was something to block off the horde but from the obvious look of it, it’s a flailed plan.

There was a stairwell that led up to the roof; you and Vinnie carefully climb your way up the metal stairs which were barely holding up, all weathered down and rusting, every step made it wobble and made a horrible noise which sounded like it was going to collapse at any second. This was a terrible idea but at this point, you’ve already gone too far to go back. On the roof, there were a lot of abandoned things and some random wooden crates scattered about, all covered with tattered and muddy cloth.

Vinnie removes it,

❝Hey, look Molotov bottles.❞ Vinnie picks it up and inspects it closely, ❝Wonder who left it here? Looks useful.❞

❝Well, whoever it is are pretty stupid.❞ You said looking through more crates, ❝Well, will you look at that? There’s more.❞

From a distance, there was a large boom, it sounded like an explosion or perhaps something large collapsed... You could still feel the aftershock,

❝What the fuck was that.❞

❝I don’t know… No maintenance for a long time could result in things, stop working or just breaking.❞

There was an echoed screech from below, you and Vinnie looked at each other, there were more of those things that you luckily didn’t come across on your way up here. But holy fuck, there were 20- No, definitely more than that. They let off a series of clicks. It was already terrifying as it is seeing those things up close but seeing so many of them in a group. The noise must have gotten their attention to the surface,

❝You think these Molotov got something to do with it?❞ Vinnie gulps.

❝Most likely. I mean, who makes this in their free time? Someone has come across this and figured out how to kill it.❞

❝Want to try it out?❞ He looks over at you,

❝Well, there’s a ladder on the side of this building. We can get down from there if this doesn’t go our way.❞

Vinnie approaches the stairwell, it was barely holding on anyways, he starts kicking away at the stairs creating a clanging sound which caught the attention of the Clickers.

❝Hey. Got any other way to keep this quietly?❞

❝You tell me!❞ Vinnie says at you sarcastically. This time he started hitting it with his axe quickly and desperately,

You grabbed one of the bottles and threw it into the stairwell which shattered into pieces, you grabbed your shotgun and aimed. Once you took your shot, the alcohol bursts into bright flames igniting, the Clickers nearby and drenched in the flammable liquid also combusted. They let out high-pitched screams before collapsing, charred and blistered.

Vinnie finally managed to get the stairs detached. It was quiet for a moment.

❝Let’s get the fuck out of here.❞

[rose2jam]

Why It Was Practically Inevitable That Severus Snape Would Join A Cult, an essay by Rose Jam

So, let’s talk about Cults. Disclaimer: This is just information I’ve gathered over the years from my personal fascination with religious cults.  I’m in no way an expert or a psychologist or whatever.  This is just my personal understanding from the research I’ve done.

A cult is started when a wildly charismatic Leader feels like they have a purpose, a higher calling, or a mission to be fulfilled (or they could also just be an egomaniac). Maybe they really do feel like what makes them special comes directly from a higher power, be that God, or the Heir of Slytherin, but either way, this person has a pathological need to be worshiped, and they need followers in order to do that.  

So, how does one obtain Followers easily? By finding the misunderstood misfits of society, and promising them something.  The people who feel like no one else understands them, or their ideologies.  But this Leader?  This Leader GETS IT, MAN! The Leader understands them perfectly, vindicates them, and makes them promises along the way.  Like, if they stick with the Leader, then not only will they finally be understood, but they themselves will also be revered.  That they will rise above all of the others who have put them down for so long, and will come out on top as a superior being.  

Any of this sounding familiar?

Charles Manson preyed on young people in the middle of the hippie movement, mostly women, who were feeling lost, lonely, and in need of guidance, or in terms of the men he recruited, seeking power over others.  Not all of these people were poor or helpless; some of them came from middle class, or even rich homes and families.  Yes, some of them came from broken homes, but all of them felt “broken” themselves, in some way. So Manson used their desires to have a family to draw them in.  He then used LSD and other drugs to keep them under his control, and he created a manipulative environment where the members of his “family” felt they could never leave him, and if they didn’t follow his commands, something horrible would happen to them.  I’m not going to go into full detail on the Manson Family Murders, but if you’re personally interested, check out the Podcast “Cults” on Spotify.

So back to basics, this Leader draws in Followers with flowery promises of community, power, family, or whatever.  But once the Leader has that following, the terror will begin.  Cult Leaders are usually master manipulators, and have completely brainwashed their followers into believing the “us vs them” mentality, that the outside world is evil, that the outside world will only harm them, that the outside world would never understand what they’re doing on the inside.  And that the Leader is the only one who knows the truth, so they better stick with him.  Or maybe the Leader has gaslit his followers so completely, that they become dependent on him for everything, to the point where they don’t know how they would possibly function without the Leader.  Or, the Leader has created an environment that’s so hostile, that Followers are too afraid of what might happen to them if they tried to leave, or didn’t do what the Leader commanded.  Typically, it’s a combination of all of the above.  Destructive cults will either hurt others outside of their circle (The Manson Family, Sect of Nacozari), harm themselves (Heaven’s Gate, The Ant Hill Kids), or both (The People’s Temple, Aum Sinrikyo).  

Now that I’ve laid this foundation, I’m going to tell you why it was practically inevitable that Severus Snape would join a cult.

Snape’s childhood ultimately laid the foundation for the mental state he would be in when he decided to join the Death Eaters.  He grew up in an abusive household, where his father, the muggle, had his magical wife so thoroughly whipped, that she couldn’t (or chose not to) use magic to defend herself, or her son (1).  Eileen had obviously told Severus about magic, about Hogwarts, about what a wonderful place it was, and what a wonderful gift magic could be.  Severus also watched as Tobias beat the magic out of her.  (I know it’s debated whether Tobias actually physically abused his family, but he certainly verbally/mentally/emotionally abused them, so the term “beat” could be used figuratively as well).  I don’t think it’s unreasonable to believe that Severus developed an extreme hatred of muggles with “burn the witch” mentalities from a very young age because of this.

Enter Lily, perhaps the only other magical person in his life besides his mother up to this point. He sees her using magic out in the open, perhaps recklessly, for fun, and he sees an opportunity to make a friend (and, admittedly, to be smarter than someone about something for a while). He was so eager to tell her all about magic, because getting to learn magic, and go to Hogwarts, has possibly been the only thing keeping him going in his young life.  And now he’s made a friend, a real friend who doesn’t think he’s weird because he’s magical.  Unlike Petunia, yet another muggle who makes fun of him for being weird (2). And Lily actually seems to like him back.  For a kid who probably hasn’t received a lot of affection in his life, this is monumental.  This friendship is everything.  Why wouldn’t he love her?

So the time finally comes to go to Hogwarts.  Severus gets to escape his abusive household, and finally has an opportunity to embrace magic for the first time in his life.  But almost immediately, he’s met with a hic-up.  Specifically, James Potter and Sirius Black.  So Severus is no longer facing abuse exclusively from muggles who think he’s weird, but now he’s also getting it from other magical people who think he’s weird (3).  And this started on the fucking TRAIN before he even GOT to Hogwarts. You can’t tell me that wouldn’t sour a kids dream right off the fucking bat.  And then, when he finally gets there, he’s separated from his only friend, by being sorted into different houses (4).  What a way for a life-long dream to be thoroughly dashed in less than 24 hours.

Let’s look at Snape’s Hogwarts experience.  He’s a good student, and he pours himself into learning as much magic as possible, and at being the best he can possibly be, probably motivated by a desire to be better than what his Father thinks possible.  During this time, he is regularly bullied and abused by the Marauders. Sometime before his 5th year, the Incident at the Shrieking Shack took place.  It definitely sucks to have been so thoroughly fucking duped, and put into a life-threatening situation involving a goddamn werewolf (5).  But perhaps even worse than that, the salt in the wound, was that no one fucking did anything about it (6).  He saw Sirius and James and Remus get out of that situation without facing any sort of proper punishment (as in, they all still stayed at the school as opposed to being expelled like they DEFINITELY SHOULD HAVE BEEN (At least Sirius should have been)). Dumbledore was looking out for the Marauders, but no one was looking out for Severus.  On top of that, Severus isn’t allowed to TELL anyone about it, not even Lily.  So, he goes through what was possibly one of the most traumatic experiences of his life, and he can’t even tell anyone that it happened.

So, what sort of support system does Severus have during all this?  He has Lily, sure (who literally told him he should be GRATEFUL to James, one of his abusers).  But, what he really has, is Slytherin House (7). I’ll say it plainly: Severus was sorted into a house that was already full of existing cult members.  McGonagall says in Sorcerer’s Stone that “Your house will be like your family” (she at least says it in the movies, I’m too lazy to get up and reference my books rn lol).  So, Severus’ family, his support system, for 10 months out of every year, is a house that is already full to the brim with pureblood elitists with prejudiced ideals, who would absolutely vindicate Severus in his dislike for muggles.  As a kid first getting sorted into the house, it’s obviously not unreasonable to become friends with the people you’re literally living with.  His dorm mates became his family.  So, when his dorm mates started to become Death Eaters… This is headcanon, I fully admit, but like, fuck, Severus didn’t have a lot of friends, and was probably already drifting apart from Lily.  Do you really think he was going to tell the people he had to live with every single day, not to mention the only people that had been supporting him for years, to go fuck themselves for using Dark Magic?  Especially when he was probably feeling like he was on the verge of thinking that their rhetoric made some sense?

On to Snape’s Worst Memory (8).  At this point, he’s spent 5 years in Slytherin House, with fellow students who casually throw around the M word.  He gets attacked by James and Sirius, he’s practically defenseless, and then the girl who he’d considered his closest friend for so long… has to force herself not to smile when he’s thrown upside down and exposed to everyone on the grounds.  Sure, she was trying to defend him at first, but she also fucking nearly smiled at his humiliation, his pain, his abuse.  So he hurls the one word that he knows is going to cut the deepest, that will hopefully hurt her as badly as she has hurt him. And it works.

Severus had been beaten down his entire life.  By Muggles and Magic Folk alike.  And finally, he’s betrayed by Lily, his last lifeline to the light.  He betrayed her as well, of course.  But he did try to show remorse.  And she doesn’t forgive him (9), which was her prerogative, of course.  

So.  Who does he have left?

I’ve placed little (numbers) throughout my writing here.  Each of those numbers denote the specific events that led Severus to becoming an angry young man, who hates muggles, hates (some) magic folk, and resulted in him feeling weak, helpless, and desperate.  For what?  For power, for a family, for a community.  For a world where he is no longer the weird one.  For a world where he’s respected, strong.  For the world he thought he was going to be a part of, when he arrived at Hogwarts in his first year.

And it just so happens that this is the exact world that Voldemort is (allegedly) trying to create.

Severus Snape was angry, and vulnerable, and as such, he was practically the poster child for the type of person who would be susceptible to falling for a cult.  Maybe he was recruited by his friends in Slytherin House.  Maybe he was recruited directly.  Either way, charismatic Tom Riddle came along, understood how he felt, where he was coming from, told him he deserved better, and offered him all of the things he never had in his life.  And being at rock bottom, being the lowest of the low, to Severus it must have seemed like a miracle of an opportunity, or perhaps, like the only chance he had left.

Now, let me be extremely clear; everything I’ve written is not trying to EXCUSE Severus Snape for his actions.  There is always a point where personal responsibility must come into play.  Except for children born into cults or victims of kidnapping, nearly every person who has ever joined a cult has made the personal decision to join it. I’m just trying to express how unbelievably easy it is, for a Cult Leader to find people with damaged lives and low self-worth, to suck them in with promises of a fulfilling life and grandeur, and for those people to be easily swept up and brainwashed into believing that what they are doing is right.  (Or that what they are doing is required, because the alternative is more horrifying.)  

The type of people who joined the Death Eaters are the same type of people who joined Heaven’s Gate, or The People’s Temple, or yes, The Manson Family.  Now, I’m just going to say, from my own personal point of view, I do not vilify anyone who’s ever joined a destructive cult.  On the contrary, I feel sorry for them.  Because most people who join a cult, don’t necessarily do it signing up for the… end result of what happened to them.  Some of them totally do, like Heaven’s Gate. Most of them knew that the end result was going to be the “evacuation of their earthly vessel”.  But the people who joined the Manson Family, for instance, did not initially join it KNOWING how it was going to end.  They were part of the family long before Manson even came up with Helter Skelter, and by the time the Tate-LaBianca Murders took place, they were already too far gone to go against it.

I highly recommend anyone who’s interested in a humanizing view of former cult members, to read the essay “Leslie Van Houten: A Friendship” by John Waters. https://www.huffpost.com/entry/leslie-van-houten-a-frien_b_246953

Or, at the very least, listen to this 7 minute NPR interview with John Waters about the essay https://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=111585116

It’s the story of how notorious film maker John Waters, became friends with former Manson Girl, Leslie Van Houten, and about how she broke away from the cult after her conviction, how she’s spent the last 51 years of her life recovering from the psychotic influence of a maniac who’d promised her the world, and how even though she was convicted to life WITH a possibility of parole, it’s never been granted to her, despite the fact that she has done literally everything possible to try and atone for her crimes.

Maybe I’m just a bleeding heart.  I’m pretty much the only person I know who feels sorry for Leslie Van Houten and other cult members who were brainwashed, abused, and manipulated into doing a lot of the horrible things they’ve done.  But there are people in the world, who have committed FAR more heinous crimes than the Manson Family murders, and who are far less repentant than Leslie, but because those crimes weren’t as notorious, they get to walk free.

Addendum: When I first posted this, I had a few people point out to me that they had always associated Voldemort and the Death Eaters with Hitler and Nazi Germany.  This is a perfectly fair point, but one that I personally don’t jive with, and the reason is simply the numbers.   There were literally millions of people in the Nazi party during WW2.   Death Eaters don’t even reach triple digits, as far as I’m aware.  As I hinted at in this essay, I consider Voldemort and the Death Eaters to be MUCH closer to Charles Manson and the Manson Family.  The Manson Family 100% had Nazi ideology, of course. "Helter Skelter” was Charles Manson’s prediction that there was going to be a massive race war; one that the Whites were going to lose, and that he and his Pure White family would emerge from it in order to rule over the remaining Blacks.  Kinda... sounds like a Death Eater thing, huh?

Sorry.  Back to Snape.  There is a lot we don’t know about Severus’ actual time as a Death Eater. I think it can be reasonably assumed he’s never actually killed anyone before Dumbledore (In Prince’s Tale, Severus questions if his soul would be safe from killing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore implies that his soul would not be damaged by helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation.  This leads me to believe that Severus never committed any soul-damaging murders before this).  Beyond being a sneaky spy and delivering the prophecy to Voldemort, his time as a Death Eater is all up for conjecture.  

Severus does make one important deviation from the typical cult member mold, however.  In the end, he manages to break away from the cult.  The scales fall from his eyes.  In a figurative sense, the LSD has worn off.  What made him sober up, was the threat to his last lifeline to the light. The one good fucking thing he’d ever had in his miserable life.  He was brought back by genuine love.  Ya know, the ENTIRE MESSAGE OF THE HP SERIES. And not only did he leave the cult, but he then spent the rest of his life actively attempting to destroy it, and atone for the mistakes he’s made, in an effort to bring back the world he’d been excited for, as an 11-year-old kid, so full of hope.

[aimless-imagines-for-fun]

Damian Wayne Dating HCs

Pairing :: older/adult!Damian Wayne x fem!Reader

Headcanon :: How Damian gets into and acts in a relationship

Word Count :: 1,676

Warnings :: N/A

A/N :: The image I’m using I created with Artbreeder. 

I didn’t call Damian “Robin” and referred to him as a vigilante because Dick stopped being Robin at 25, Jason 22, and Tim 18. The Damian I’m writing is 22. We don’t see much of Older!Damian, and when we do he’s either taken up the mantle of Batman or The Demon’s Head for The League Of Assassins

Getting into a relationship (all of this is in roughly a year) :

Neither you nor Damian know when you started dating, it just sort of happened

He met you at a bookstore you worked at, and you noticed he always came in buying older books about history, warfare, and strategies.

You found the warfare and strategies odd at first but chose not to question it

You asked him out first.

“Why do you always buy these books?” “I like history.” “Oh cool, I do too... Wanna hang out and talk about the First Battle of Tarain?”

You were joking, he said yes to get out of doing a thing with Tim

You each thought it was going to be a small amount of time spent together at some local cafe. You two ended up staying until closing talking about history.

This becomes a bi-weekly thing, you meet up at the cafe, talk until it closes, or go out and talk in a nearby park until sunset.

Damian’s family notices, but choose not to question what he’s doing because it’s seemingly making him less annoyed with people

Dick starts getting curious when he sees Damian smile just a tad bit looking at a text from you

You text him random facts all the time, but they’re weird. “Did you know squirrels are behind most power outages in the US?”

Eventually, you two stop talking about just history and start talking about other things that interest each of you and your personal lives. 

You open up more than Damian

Damian pays close attention when he notices you’re talking about something you’re genuinely passionate about He pays attention to detail in general.

For your birthday he got you a leather swiss army medic bag from WWII. You cried tears of joy and jumped onto him for a big long hug.

That was the first time Damian’s heart skipped a beat. After seeing you overjoyed, he realized he likes seeing you happy. It gave him a warm feeling, but he doesn’t know yet he has feelings for you.

Yours and Damian’s first “official date” was to a fancy Wayne Ent. event. This time Damian asked you. He’s super stiff.

“Would you like to accompany me to the upcoming-” “Are you asking me out on a date??” “No, I’m asking you to accompany me-” “I’ll go.”

No one in his family knows your coming, except for Alfred because he was asked to pick you up and bring you to the manor the day of. Alfred is confused the entire car ride because you act super chill

When you show up, the other boys surround you. Dick realizes who you are instantly, Jason thinks you’re not human, Tim is afraid you’re like Damian.

Bruce is silent, and a bit thankful his son found a normal human

Damian picked out your outfit: A fancy dark Sacramento green dress with black heels, a pearl necklace, and pearl bracelets to match.

You panicked when you saw the jewelry and Damian instantly goes into “comfort mode” to reassure you it’s fine. The family is shook.

At the actual event, you feel SUPER AWKWARD. Your family had enough to get by in life, so you feel very out of place around all the rich people

Damian can tell you’re uncomfortable and so he tries to hold onto you at all times to help you feel comfortable

Ex: He holds your hand, puts a hand on your shoulder, stands directly next to you so your arms are touching.

You eventually feel comfortable, but, you’re both bored there, so you suggest hiding in the outside garden

Finally alone, you two start talking about the other batboys

“Does Dick always try to show off odd party tricks?” “Only when he sees a pretty lady.”

“Why was Jason just standing in the corner looking at everyone?” “He doesn’t like dressing up.”

“Come on, there’s no way Tim’s actually happy here.” “Did you see him on the dance floor?” He has awesome dance moves, he’s just very energetic.

You eventually start talking about something else.

You can hear the music from inside, so you two start slow dancing together.

He’s holding one of your hands and has a hand placed on the small of your back. You rest your head on his shoulder and have your free hand flat on his chest.

It’s in this instant you each realize you have feelings for one another.

You two swayed around slowly until the song eventually ended.

When you two pull away, you stare into his green eyes briefly before you place a hand on his cheek and pull him down for a kiss.

Once In A Relationship :

You and Damian are a good pair because he’s serious and you’re go-with-the-flow. If he starts over-analyzing something, you start relaxing him. 

You two spend at least one day a week together, and you constantly text each other basic messages like “How was your day?”, “Are you okay?”, “Good morning/night”, “Have a nice day”

If you take over an hour to reply to Damian he gets anxious something bad happened to you.

He legitimately gets ready to start searching EVERY PART of Gotham until he gets a text “Sorry, I was taking a nap. Long day at work.”

When you two are together, you’re usually out or at your apartment. He only takes you to the manor if none of the other guys are there.

He took you once with everyone there. Never again.

Dick: “Oh my god! Look! He has a little girlfriend! How cute, Damian’s growing up.” “I’m 22.”

Tim: “You… You look so nice. Why? How is she so nice and you’re so… you.” “I’ll murder you and make it look like an accident.”

Jason: “How? Did you threaten her? Is he threatening you?” “Dames is super sweet.”

When you call Damian “Dames”, your nickname for him, they all lose their shit.

“DAMES?” “YOU HAVE A NICKNAME FOR HIM?” “DA-ME-SSS?” “DO YOU HAVE MORE?” “D-A-M-E-S?”

Your nicknames for Damian: Dame, Love, and Mr. Serious

Damian’s nicknames for you: Beloved, Love, and Sunflower

He briskly drags you away before you can say anything else, and you just go with it. 

“??I thought we were going to talk more to your brothers??” “They’re not my brothers.” “Okay. I appreciate you.” “.....I appreciate you too.”

You two don’t say “I love you” very often. Instead, you say “I appreciate you”. You do say “I love you” in private/intimate moments, but in public/at random you say “I appreciate you”

Damian isn’t possessive, just protective. There’s a difference. 

He’s never been in a serious relationship before and he’s never loved someone romantically like with you before, so he wants to make sure you’re safe and comfortable 24/7

The first time a random guy catcalled you while you were with Damian, he instantly defended your honor.

“What did you say?” He grabs the guy and easily raises him a foot off the ground. He forces the guy to apologize and lets him fall on the ground after.

Quickly, you reassured Damian he doesn’t need to go to such lengths to “defend your honor”. You tell him to ignore people like that guy because they’re nobodies.

After a few months, you start to pick up on the fact you two rarely spend time together after sunset.

You questioned him once about it and he quickly told you it’s because he helps his father with Wayne Ent. You never questioned him again.

You didn’t 100% believe his answer, but trust he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you

One time you called him crying at night. He was about to go on patrol, then dropped everything to go to your apartment and make sure you were okay.

Damian got a key to your apart about a year into the relationship.

There are times you go to sleep alone and wake up with him asleep, arms wrapped around you. He doesn’t do this often, only after a rough night on a patrol or a particularly dark mission.

Damian’s usually a realist, but when he sees you smile and laugh, he becomes an optimist for a split second

He isn’t big on PDA, so depending on his mood sometimes you hold hands when walking, other times you just lock your pinkies together.

When one of you notices the other is upset though, then you get touchy to calm the other down

Sometimes, when you two are alone at your apartment or the mansion, you don’t speak. You just rest and enjoy the silence while laying on top of one another.

If you lay on Damian, you’re literally on top of him snuggling into his chest. He holds one of your hands and rubs your back.

If Damian lays on you, you’re usually sitting and he places his head on your lap. You love playing and messing around with his hair.

When you found out Damian’s a vigilante, it was a massive accident

You called him while he was on patrol, whispering in a shaking voice that two men had broken into your apartment.

He booked it to your apartment and busted through the window, in costume.

After taking care of the guys and handing them over to the authority, he starts questioning you to make sure you’re okay. When you don’t answer he realizes he’s still in costume talking to you now.

You’re in shock because now a lot of things make sense.

You’re upset for about an hour(because Damian knows how to make you happy when you’re angry) and then you’re utterly fascinated by Damian’s other life

Damian tells you he doesn’t want you to know a lot because it could put you in danger and you’re the one part of his life that’s normal

You accept his wishes and continue with your relationship as normal.

There are only two things that changed:

One: Damian moves you to a more secure apartment and makes sure you have plenty of bats or batons you could use to protect yourself “just in case”

Two: Damian spends almost every night at your apartment after patrol now

[high-functioning-lokipath]

All About Eavesdropping - Loki x Reader - Words: 1,835

“You want us to what?” You yelled. 

“I need you and Elsa here to go to Greenland for about a month,” Tony said. You stared at him from across his worktable in his lab. 

“Why in Valhalla would we need to do that, Stark?” Loki retorted. “And don’t call me Elsa.” Tony had called the two of you in there right after breakfast saying that he had a very important job for you. This, however, did not seem to be all that special.

“For purely scientific purposes, of course,” He replied, mouthful of blueberries.

“And those would be?” You sighed, facedesking. 

“The new winter stealth suits I designed. I need them tested in the field. I’ve run as many lab tests as possible but,” Tony shrugged. “Field tests are absolutely necessary. Everything you’ll need is either in these boxes or in the house in Greenland. If you want to take any other personal stuff you’ll want to grab it before you leave.”

“And you think we’re the best for the job?” You asked.

“He’s already a popsicle so if it gets too cold he can deal with it and you can heal yourself or him anyway,” Tony said like it was the most logical thing in the world. Loki tensed at his words but didn’t say anything about it.

“Fine,” Loki grunted. He grabbed the box Tony had marked for him and headed for the doors. 

“You leave at 6! Don’t be late!” 

“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, Stark,” Loki sassed before finally stalking out. 

“Have fun!” Tony grinned at you, wiggling his eyebrows. 

“First of all, perv. Second of all, ain’t gonna happen!” You replied. “Why are you doing this? This whole thing is a direct attack on a part of him he doesn’t like to address!” 

“Well I figured he has to grow up one day and deal with it. We all have inner demons to fight. I figured I’d help him.”

“A bit not good there, Sherlock.” Tony snorted in laughter and shook his head. 

“Would you rather I send him with Steve?” Your eyes widened comically.

“Nope!” You exclaimed, popping the p. “I think we’ll do just fine.” You grabbed your box and headed out as well.   

By 6 o'clock, the two of you were flying out on one of Tony's jets. "So, what do you think of the new suits?" You asked Loki, trying to make some conversation.

"They are no match for true Asgardian leather and would be greatly improved by at least a cape," He replied sounding rather bored. 

"Oh," You said. "How exactly are we to be testing the suits again? I forget what Tony said."

"He said nothing, darling. It was all in his infernal little packet." You blushed lightly at the pet name and nodded. 

"Alright, well, I guess I'm just going to," You paused, unsure of what to do. It was obvious Loki was not interested in conversation but there wasn't much to do on the jet. "I'm just going to sit over there," You said, getting up quickly and moving to the other side of the jet. The rest of the flight was quiet, Loki only speaking up to alert you that you were about to land. 

"Surely the man of iron could not possibly want us to stay here," Loki said, getting out and seeing the small house.

"Maybe it's bigger on the inside," You said hopefully. Gathering your few things, you both headed in. "Oh this is so much worse," You groaned. The large main room consisted of the dining and living rooms and the kitchen. However, it was very sparsely decorated. You could see a stack of groceries in the kitchen along with a note. Loki wandered off to explore the bathroom and bedrooms, you assumed, while you read the note. 

"Find anything of interest?" Loki called out, surprising you.

"Just that Tony said if we didn't like the food or somehow ran out there's a grocery store about 10 miles away."

"And just how does he expect us to go there?" Loki yelled, getting increasingly frustrated. 

"The note says our transportation is out back." You walked down the small hallway to the back door and looked outside. Stifling a laugh you called out, "Hey, Loki! I think your ex is here!"

"My who?" Loki replied, very confused. "I have no 'exes', as you call them, on Midgard." You smirked and moved aside so Loki could look. When he saw what was in the backyard, a strange look crossed over his face. "Run," He said in a dangerously calm voice. 

"I beg your pardon?" You replied.

"Run if you don't want to lose your phone," He smirked back. You laughed but you did take off running. He chased you back out to the main room but you ran out the front door. "Don't think you can escape me!" He called out. 

"Wanna bet?" You called back, running to the backyard. You quickly jumped on one of the two horses you had seen and took off. 

"Oh, you'll regret saying that, my dear," Loki grinned, getting on the other horse and taking off after you. 

The next few days continued in a similar pattern. There wasn't much to do so you and Loki would often spend your time exploring the woods behind the house or riding the horses or just talking. Loki had warmed up to you quite a bit, pun intended, and you were quite happy. Of course, you recorded the events of each day in your diary. Well, it was less of a diary and more of a collection of special moments you wanted to remember and sketches you'd made. You had just finished writing today's events when you heard a loud clatter and Loki call you from the kitchen.

"Y/N!" He said. "Can you come here please?" You quickly put your notebook in the nightstand drawer and hurried out to the kitchen.

"What in the world happened, Loki?" You exclaimed, holding back a laugh. Loki was laying on the floor, covered in a mixture of flour and eggs it seemed, with various cups and bowls around him. 

"I was attempting to reach a mixing bowl on the top shelf when I slipped on an egg and pulled the shelf down," He admitted.

"You're telling the truth!" You gasped, openly chuckling at the situation now.

"Of course, love! I couldn't lie to you." You blushed brightly, as he often made you do with those pet names. 

"Uh, well," You stuttered. "Why don't you go wash up and I'll finish," You paused, glancing around. "Whatever you were making."

"I was attempting to make breakfast," He grinned. "But I think I should make myself clean instead, hm?" 

"Yes, you should," You smirked. "Wouldn't want anyone thinking you were greying early."

"You-" He exclaimed, standing quickly. For a moment you thought he was truly angry, but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He reached onto the counter and threw a handful of flour at you before running off to the bathroom. You laughed, dusted yourself off, and got to work on breakfast.

About an hour later, he came back out and sat across you at the counter. "Your breakfast, my prince," You smiled, presenting him his plate. He smiled and you ate in silence for a time. 

"I've been reading a lot lately," He commented. 

"Mhm," You replied, mouthful of syrupy pancakes. 

"The last book I read had some rather interesting sketches in it too."

"Really?" You asked, truly interested. "I love art. Can you show it to me?" You took a large gulp of milk as he replied.

"My dear," He said, setting down his fork. "I read your diary." You coughed, almost choking on your ill-timed drink. 

"You what?" You screeched. "How dare you invade my privacy like that and-"

"Don't you care to know what I thought?" He interrupted.

"Why? So you can laugh at me, oh Mr. High-and-" He cut you off by leaning over the counter and kissing you earnestly. "Oh, that's nice," You said once you pulled away. 

"Just nice?" He smirked. "I guess I'll have to work on that." He kissed you once more before you pulled away, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

"I just remembered something!" You gasped. 

"What's wrong?" You quickly pulled out the pamphlet Tony had made you about the suit testing. You then gestured to a paragraph under a subheading of RECORDING ANY AND ALL TEST RESULTS

ALL TEST RESULTS MUST BE RECORDED BY THE TESTERS USING THE STEPS LISTED. TO ENSURE NOTHING IS MISSED, HOWEVER, THE HOUSE WILL ALSO BE UNDER 24/7 SURVEILLANCE TO TRACK ANY UNRECORDED RESULTS.

OUTSIDE - AUDIO/VIDEO

INSIDE - AUDIO ONLY

Loki grinned and leaned into you, lips brushing against your ear. He whispered something and you giggled. "Loki!" You gasped. "We can’t do that here!"

"Oh, yes," He purred. "We can do it anywhere we want if we're creative enough." 

"But outside is so much more exciting," You grinned. "So," you paused, struggling to find the right word. "Freeing!"

"Please do not do anything outdoors where I can see!" You heard a loud voice yell. You both quickly realized it was coming from the monitoring system.

"Steve? Is that you?" You called back with a chuckle. 

"Yeah, Tony insisted I take a turn on guard duty," He grumbled. "Look, I'm sorry I interrupted," He paused awkwardly. "Whatever you were doing but could you please not do it outside? Outside has cameras." Loki laughed loudly and you did too. 

"We really didn't mean to prank you, Cap. I thought Tony was on the other end of that mic."

"I however have no objections to how this turned out," Loki added. You whacked him arm lightly and shook your head. "Truthfully, though, we were only speaking of testing another aspect of the suit. I whispered to Y/N my idea and-"

"I get it," Cap replied quickly. You couldn't see him but you could tell he was embarrassed. "I'll make you two a deal. Behave yourselves, finish the tests, and get home early and I'll help you prank Tony here in the tower. Ok?"

"You have yourself a deal, Captain," Loki grinned. 

"Alright. I'm going to take a nap now. Don't do anything stupid."

"Oh we won't," Loki smirked, wrapping his arms around you and planting light kisses on your neck.

"Loki!" You squealed.

"Do you want to prank Tony or not?" Steve yelled. "I can't see you but I can hear you! And that didn't sound like suit testing. Get to work! If you do as you're supposed to, you'll be done in a week."

"Yes, sir," You both grumbled. Loki, ever the mischief maker, wasn't about to let up. He grabbed a towel and twirled it, smacking your backside with it as you walked away. 

"What was that for?" You asked.

"Loki, did you just-"

"For purely scientific purposes, I assure you," He replied. Steve groaned in frustration.

"This is gonna be a long week."

Loki Taglist

@lucywrites02

@delightfulheartdream

@serpentargo

@khena

@nyx2021

@kaz11283

@weasley-main-lover

@up-to-mischief

@lokislittlesigyn

​Marvel (all characters) Taglist

@bartv21

@another-crazy-fangirl

@whatafuckingdumbass

@ladylulu143

@lokislittlesigyn

[astaroth1357]

Long Distance Longing with the Brothers

Want a little angst and sweetness? I love how this turned out and I think it’s a new favorite for me. I honestly should wait to post it... But I have no patience, I love it too much. Weirdly enough, thank Taylor Swift’s new album for giving me this idea. Go figure. 🤷‍♀️

Warnings: Angst, implied starvation

Intro:

The brothers knew it was going to happen eventually. The year can't last forever, and at some point they were going to have to say goodbye to their human for the break… But that didn't make the situation any easier. Nobody likes being so far from the one they love. It was only a matter of time before our boys are reaching a breaking point...

Lucifer

Lucifer has never really had a reason to not to work before… Like, yeah there are those days where things get stressful and he takes a step back, but actually taking an extended period of time to just... not work? A "vacation" if you will? He’s never had the desire. What would he even do with himself?

Well, for the first time in literal God knows how many centuries, he had an answer for that question. He was going to be with MC.

And that's exactly what he told Diavolo when he finally accepted that missing the MC was negatively affecting his work. 

He wanted a… "vacation."

Diavolo had never once thought Lucifer would ever ask, and to be fair the man never thought he would either, but he's more than happy to give his friend a few days off to visit his dear human.

Whatever brief hit that his pride took by having to admit that he needed a break was more than made up for by finally seeing the MC again. He knew he missed them, painfully aware of that fact, but just the sight of them waiting to meet him outside the portal was enough to nearly take his breath away…

His first vacation was sure to be paradise. 

Mammon 

Oh, the distance was killing this poor boy. Any day where he can’t have the MC on his arm feels worse than when he's on a losing streak…

Speaking of a losing streak, he's been stuck in one for a whole month without his beloved partner in crime with him. Did he lose his lucky charm or was he just too down in the dumps to gamble well? Anyone's guess.

Well he got fucking sick of it. He wanted to see the MC, ASAP. But how would he get to the human world…?

It takes a week but he gets an idea. It took another for it to actually trigger.

Like clockwork one of the witches he's regularly in debt to, one that just happens to be a bad gambler herself, summoned him out to give her a little extra luck. Usually, he'd just kick whatever slot machine she’s parked herself at and be done with it but this time he's got to ask… How long does that summon spell last, eh?

He made a new sort of bargain. She gets to take Goldie out for a spin if she gave him some time in exchange… 24 hours to be exact.

He didn't waste a second after striking the deal because he had a lot of flying to do.

The MC probably didn't expect to hear frantic knocking on their door at the break of dawn, nor to find a beat tired and disheveled Mammon leaning outside it….

But he embraced them for all it's worth anyway. If it meant feeling them in his arms again, he'd trade away the whole world if he had to...

Leviathan 

He… didn’t do so well with the distance. Like at all. He'd mope around the house, constantly bemoaning how unfair things were. Not even his favorite games can give him any joy because those were the games he used to play with MC…

Sneaking in the occasional video call was pretty much the only thing that could make him smile anymore. Just seeing their face felt like getting a cold drink in the middle of a scorching desert… But he wanted more.

Thankfully, the MC themselves gave him a really, really good idea…

For two weeks straight, Levi seemed to get out of whatever funk he was in to help out around the House… Like, really help out. Suck-up levels of help out. It creeped everybody out...

After a time he finally approached Lucifer and made a simple request. There was an anime convention going on in the human world soon and he'd like to attend…

The ulterior motive for this little visit is practically written on the wall, but he'd been acting so damn unnerving for the past two weeks Lucifer just gave him permission to make him stop.

When the MC agreed to meet him on the opening day, they said they'd be dressed up as someone he'd recognize. Frankly, he was expecting Henry or maybe Ruri-chan but he was completely floored to see them waiting for him dressed in a familiar black hoodie with coral-like horns on their head and a carefully crafted serpent's tail behind them.

To this day he still can't decide what made him happier: seeing the love of his life so adoringly dressed as him or finally feeling their body collide with his after they came running to each other outside the convention hall...

In the end it probably doesn't matter because for that whole day alone, he finally felt like he had everything he could of ever wanted right there with him.

Satan 

Satan's not one for idle moping so when he felt that yearning in his chest finally hit a tipping point, he didn't whine. He didn't complain. He got up and did something about it.

Teleportation magic is tricky to master and dangerous to perform even with sufficient skill. One wrong move and you could end up smearing yourself across three different continents…

But like that would stop him.

He pulled out every book he could find on the subject, researched for days, then practiced for weeks. First on books and apples, then on some of Lucifer’s belongings.

He had to keep making new excuses to throw Lucifer off the scent (especially after he started sending some of his shirts away to different parts of the house) but after some time, it finally paid off.

Satan was probably the last person the MC would have expected to see show up in their room randomly one night, sitting casually by a lamp and reading a book like he didn't just master time and space just to come say hi.

But who was going to be all that picky when they could finally shower their nerdy cat-lover in all the love and kisses they've both been missing for months now?

Asmodeus 

If you took Asmo at his word, then the sheer depths of longing and despair he was experiencing while the MC was away could far outweigh that of anyone else to ever have existed in the history of all time.

He was the Avatar of Lust, desire was in his nature. Couple that with a burning need to have his lover as close to him as he possibly could and it was safe to say he was losing his mind!

This might have been the reason Solomon finally gave in after his 16th-ish time trying to beg the sorcerer to help him. He really was quite pitiful in this state...

When Solomon told Asmo that he could smuggle him out of the teleportation gate between the Devildom and human world ONLY if he could magically disguised his appearance, he was kind of expecting Asmo to refuse. This was Asmo he was talking about. He honestly thought that he'd rather die than deprive the world of his beauty so selfishly…

The world is full of surprises, ain't it?

No matter where they were, no matter what they were doing, the MC was suddenly mowed over by a "stranger" running at them at top speed like an Olympic sprinter. It’d probably have been pretty scary before Solomon lifted the enchantment shortly after to reveal their demon’s gorgeously familiar face.

Solomon wasn't going to let him stay too long, lest he incur the wrath of Lucifer, but Asmo couldn't care less. Be it a thousand hours or a few short seconds, he could always find a way to make his time with the MC last a lifetime...

Beelzebub

Fun fact, Hell freezes over a little every time Beel says "I'm not hungry…" No. Seriously. A freezing wind blasts across the entire Devildom like the realm itself gets a sudden chill...

So imagine the levels of panic that went through pretty much everyone there when his appetite started to fail him.

It's not like the poor baby could help it, food just tasted so much better when the MC was there that eating without them was like trying to digest actual disappointment… He got tired of trying after a while.

A few days of this behavior were worrying, but when he started to get a little thinner the family went into an uproar, starting with Belphie but soon spreading to the rest of the House as well.

Lucifer's soft spot for the twins may have influenced his decision. I mean, it was awfully generous of him to get Diavolo to approve of an fully sanctioned, planned meeting between Beel and the MC. He probably wouldn’t have offered that to anyone else...

Not that Beel cared about all that background favoritism anyway. Hell, on the day that he was finally allowed to see them, he couldn't be bothered by anything other than holding the MC close and hoping they'd never let him go again.

His appetite did return to him eventually, of course, but as long as he had his human with him even the cheapest street taco tasted like a fine five star-meal.

Belphegor 

Frankly, Belphegor was sick and tired of missing people.

Ever since the Celestial War he missed Lilith. When he was stuck in the attic, he missed Beel. And now that the MC was away he was supposed to just sit patiently and miss them too? No way. Not happening. Something about that had to change.

It wasn’t the first time he'd gone to Lucifer in an angry huff, but admittedly he had more ammo than usual...

There was a… discussion between the two. It went on for a couple hours… There may have been some words to the effect of, "Don't you think you owe me?" exchanged… 

Honestly, it was kind of amazing Belphie didn't end up in another attic "timeout" by the end of it. But he got what he wanted, so what's to complain about?

With a little persuasion on his part, Lucifer managed to get Diavolo to approve of a weekly visit for the two, SO LONG as Belphie stayed on his best behavior in the human world.

There wasn’t really much worry about him acting up, though, since he'd have his nap buddy back. It would be pretty hard to be a threat to humanity when he was too busy staying snuggled up to his favorite person until well past noon...

[joestarwhore]

NSFW Yandere Josuke (18+) x Female reader

his little darling managed to escape her obsessive and derange boyfriend house while he was gone.

She trys to get help and does but the good samaritan is Jotaro who leads her back to Josuke thinking she was over reacting.

Josuke angry she escape he takes her back home and has idea to keep her safe and home by finally putting a ring on her

Like The Ocean Finds The Shore (NSFW 18+)

Authors Note: 18+ ONLY. if you’re a minor please find another blog, this writings and scripts are not written for your audience. thank you bb!

You didn’t know what made it worse. The tears in your eyes? Or maybe it was the pouring rain in the pitch black night; never the less, you were barely able to make out where you were, much less which direction you were going. The muscles in your body screamed for relief, the gashes angrily stinging against the rain, pushing you to run far, far away from the house that became your personal Hell.

Anywhere was better than being with him.

Your legs burned as you pushed yourself down the hill, gaining as much distance as you could away from Josuke. You couldn’t help to think of the events that led to this; gaining a stand from Keijo, meeting Koichi in odd circumstances, all the tiny little interactions that led to you accidentally tripping over a brick. Right into Josuke’s unmoving backside.

The thunder was incredibly deafening, lighting up the city of Morioh below you. You didn’t know if Josuke had discovered your absence yet, but you knew you had to be far away from him when he did. You knew it was just a matter of time.

Suddenly the grass became concrete, and concrete became asphalt. Relief flooded through you as you realized that you had finally made it into city limits. You looked around for any sign of safety you could take, your sights finally landing on the Grand Morioh Hotel.

‘Oh my god, Jotaro!’ You started sprinting towards the doors, bypassing any on looker or someone saying any comment to you, all you cared about was finding the receptionist and finding Jotaro. You ran down the hall to the Plaza, seeing the nice attendant lady who always seemed to be the one working for the desk. As soon as she saw you approach, her smile went from one of welcome to a grimace of worry. “Oh my word sweetie, are you okay?? Do you need any help??”

You leaned on the desk for a second to catch your breath. “Actually.. yes there is something.. you could do..”, you took a deep breath, “can you tell me what room Jotaro Kujo is in? We’re related & we have a family member in the hospital and it’s imperative that I fill him in on what’s going on.” Not the best lie you’ve ever told but at this point, you couldn’t afford to be precise. The desk attendant nodded with assured hums, “Yes honey of course, give me just one second.”

You breathed in relief. Thank God. Josuke definitely knew by now that you were gone, & would absolutely be searching for you. Finding Jotaro gave you a little hope for safety but even still; Josuke was relentless.

“Okay darlin, 8th floor, 6th suite, it’ll be the one at the very end!!” Relief swept over you as you quickly expressed your thanks, sprinting up the stairs towards your destination. ‘This is utterly insane’ you thought to yourself; you were running from your deranged boyfriend to his nephew that’s a decade older than he is. Your clothes were torn, wet, your skin was bruised and bleeding out, a state of being you weren’t familiar with.

The raw emotion you felt as you reach Jotaro’s door can only be described as a broken hallelujah. You banged on his door as hard as you can, not stopping until Jotaros towering frame swung the door open.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” His stone cold expression seemed to always be unwavering, but at the sight of you his eyes betrayed him. “What the hell happened to you?” You tried to speak, but no words came out, simply emotion ridden gasps between sobs. Jotaro took your arm and led you in, showing you to a seat by the fireplace & brought you a hot mug of coffee. You gave him a grateful look as you took the cup, Jotaro taking the seat in front of you with a first aid kit. “What happened to you?? Is this from an enemy stand user?”

You couldn’t help but give a lifeless giggle. Certainly felt like it, didn’t it?

Jotaro let you sit in silence for a second while he cleaned the wounds gracing your arms & face, carefully watching your facial expression for any sign of emotion, anything to hint at what might be going on. You didn’t even know where to start in explaining it, or even a way to explain how this happened.

Jotaro took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his. “(Y/N), who did this to you?” The concern in his eyes made you feel the most cared about you’ve been in months. If you could tell anyone, it’d be Jotaro.. right?”

“It.. it’s Josuke.. When we started dating he was so good to me, he was charming & caring, he’d take time out of his day to spend time with me & would make sure i felt his love; but his actions just.. escalated. He was everywhere. He would text me throughout the day about what i was doing, saying certain comments about my outfits or what stores i was in, he ALWAYS knew.” Jotaro listened intently as he wrapped your forearm in gauze, giving you a nod it was okay to keep proceeding with what you were saying. “All of a sudden one day my land lord calls me to let me know that I was being evicted out of nowhere and i had 24 hours to leave. The same day, Josuke signed the deed to his Mom’s house & told me I could live with him. I just thought it was a crazy coincidence, I didn’t think Josuke would actually ever get me evicted. Then i found my land lords phone number in his pocket book. When I asked him about it he pretended like he didn’t know, and when i kept asking he..” The memory of him holding you against the wall, his knee putting pressure onto your slit, made you visibly cringe. The way he touched you.. it was so possessive, so needy, his eyes portraying one visible message. ‘I own you.’

Jotaro closed the first aid kit & put it under the seat he was at, a pack of pills in his hand. Jotaro silently put the two pills in your hand & got you a glass of water. “I’m sorry you’re going through this & I’m sorry you’ve been hurt so badly. The pills are a sleeping pill & a pain relief supplement, take those and you can sleep in my bed. I’ll handle everything in the morning.” You looked at the two white pills in your hand & threw them to the back of your throat, quickly chasing them with the glass of water he gave you. Jotaro gave you a pair of pajama pants and a t shirt, and helped you lay in the bed. “Goodnight, (Y/N). I’ll see you in the morning.”

You don’t remember anything past that.

__________________________________

When you woke in the morning, you were blinded by direct sunlight. You squinted your eyes as tight as you could, noticing that you were being held up my two arms that were walking at a brisk pace. Gently adjusting your eyes to open, you looked up to see Jotaro, a determined glare in his eyes.

“J..Jotaro where are we?” you whispered the best you could manage. Jotaro gave you a glance down before returning his eyes to the path.

“I called Josuke.”, Your heart drops into your stomach. He wouldn’t.. he couldn’t.. “He says you lost your apartment because your anti psychotics put you out of a job, & he had your landlords number to pay your moving out fees for you.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “No, no no no Jotaro that’s a lie, i’m not on anti-psychotics, I don’t have any sort of med like that, he’s fucking lying to you!!”

Jotaro gave you an expectant look. “That’s the other thing Josuke said. You’ve been flushing them down the drain instead of taking them like you’re supposed to. Josuke only wants to take care of you, (Y/N). There’s nothing to fear of him.”

“JOTARO, I HAVE NEVER TAKEN THOSE PILLS IN MY LIFE AND YOU FUCKING KNOW”- You saw a giant purple hand come over your face and cover your mouth, restraining you from saying anymore. “I’m sorry (Y/N), but this is what’s best for you.”

You heard a door in the distance open, and Jotaro looking up and locking eyes with someone. The voice you heard next made your spine freeze, and dread pierce your soul.

“Jotaro!! Thank you SO much for bringing (Y/N) back!!”

No.. Not again..

“Not a problem Josuke, i’d rather have assurance of (Y/N)‘s safety myself then just send her back here on a bus.”

You slowly looked over, finally catching sight of your boyfriend. His tall, muscular form loomed dangerously in the door way of his house, his pompadour reminding you of so many events, so many violations of your body..

God its sick that it was making you wet.

Jotaro set you on your feet in front of josuke, letting Star Platinums hand uncover your mouth.

You couldn’t look at him.

Josukes hand ran through your hair, “(Y/N) is all okay now that she’s here with me.” He put his other hand under your chin, lifting to meet you eye to eye. It was everything you remembered. Lust, anger, relief, and above all else: obsession.

Jotaro and Josuke bid their farewells. Hands on your hips steered you into the living room, Josuke gently closing the door behind you. You could feel his eyes bore into the back of your skull, your mind erratic with anxiety. God, what’s he gonna do??

“Y’know, you didnt have to run away. You didn’t have to leave me. You didn’t have to be SO FUCKING UNGRATEFUL.” Josuke threw a chair at the wall in front of you, the force of it making you fall backwards onto your back. You gasped as your back collided with the floor, seeing Josukes towering frame turning towards you. He kneels down straddling you, the obsession of his eyes terrifying as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. Adrenaline went straight between your legs.

“I do everything for you, (Y/N). I house you. I feed you. I FUCKING TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Josuke ripped apart your shirt, shoving his knee on your hot slit, making you gasp in surprise. Josukes delicate features possess a hunger that you remember all too well. “I also make you feel good don’t i??” He removed one of his hands from your throat to attack your nipple with, making you arch your back & moan. Josuke bit his lip in ecstasy as he shoved his middle finger down your slit, swirling it around in your hot heat. Josukes mouth rested against your temple as you gasped in pleasure, sickly wanting him to just take you then & there.

Josuke slowed down his finger, gently massaging your clit at a comfortable pace. “I’m sorry if it was because you felt unloved. If that’s the case, I really promise to be better. Because you can’t leave me, (Y/N). You’re mine, my little princess, my sweet baby girl,” His fingers started to assault you again. You heard a zipper get tugged town, and Josukes hips sweetly grind against yours. “My little fucking slut.”

You started to panic as you felt the tip of his rock hard cock press against your heat, your adrenaline skyrocketing. He’s delirious. “JoJo honey please, d-dont make me do this i’m so fucking sc-“

Josukes hand slapped your cheek, making you yelp in pain, quickly resulting in your moth being covered once again. “No, you don’t get a say. You were a bad girl, baby. And bad girls-“

Your scream was strained as he bottomed out his 8 inch cock inside you. “-they get punished.”

Josuke rammed inside of you, yourself being pummeled into the floor as he chanted “Mine, mine, mine, -FUCK-, MINE!!” His dick assaults your G-Spot as you felt an orgasm start to build in your stomach.

“Are you gonna cum baby? Does my little fuckinf slut want to cum??” Josuke slapped your clit. “TELL ME WHO OWNS YOU.”

Pleasure overruled the mine on this one. “It’s you baby! It’s always been you and it always will, I promise I’ll never leave you again just-“ you squealed as you felt your build up about to break. “PLEASE LET ME CUM JOSUKE PLEASE!!”

“Uggh FUCK, cum on my fucking cock (Y/N) show me who OWNS you.” Josukes duet of lust and rage amplified as you exploded all over him, your moans and screams sounding like siren calls to himself. Josuke rutted into you, filling you to the brim with himself. He laid himself by you, wrapping his arms around your overstimulated frame. You laid there for a couple of minutes trying to catch your breath, your heart rate soaring. You could hear Josukes soft giggles beside you as you felt a hand caress your cheek. You looked him into his eyes, seeing the unconditional love and obsession. The never ending love and obsession.

Josuke sweetly kisses your cheek, holding you in his arms as he gently picks up your left hand. You felt a cold circle of metal grace your ring finger, slipping on perfectly. Fear gripped your heart as you realized what it was.

“My pretty baby.. my gorgeous doll,” Josuke rolled ontop of you and held your face in his hands. “This will make sure we’re always together. You & me, husband and wife!! My perfect, beautiful, fuckable wife..”

Tears started to slide down your face.

So, this was defeat.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), will you be my wife?”

You looked at the alabaster ceiling. This wasn’t possible for you. This couldn’t be happening. But you knew it was.

“Yes.. Josuke. I’ll marry you.”

Josuke gleamed as he smothered you with kisses and sweet nothings, giving you gentle touches as his lips grazed over your ears to say the only thing that comes out of his mouth: poison.

“I’ll always find you, baby doll.”

“Like the ocean meets the shore- I will always find you.”

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I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT & KEEP REQUESTING ALL YALL WANT!! TYSM!! 🤍🌿✨🌸👄🍌🌩