#v: no memories should be taken for granted

[mieczyslawsravenclaw]

Eidetic Memory Be Damned -Spencer Reid

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•Pairing - Spencer Reid x FemFBIAgent!Reader

•Rating - 18+, Minors DNI - Smut - NSFW!!!

•Summary/Prompt - Spencer is tired of only having the memory of you to enjoy during his spicy times , so he just has to intrude into your hotel room after a case is finished…

•Warnings/Content - p in the v unprotected (hey kids- DONT DO IT) ; cursing ; Spence loves to beg to nut in you and does so ; creampie ; some pain play? (just a lil hand on the throat dealio and some hair pulling) ; LOTS of praise on both sides (good boy, pretty girl, etc) ; very mf horny lol ; (basically they do just about everything from first base to last bestie slay)

•Word Count - 3.3k

•Authorʼs Note(s) - Iʼm so mf rusty at writing smut so this is probs not the best, I just wanted to write some Spencer spice cause I had a spicy dream about him lmao RIP >_< Also this'll be my first official post of my writing on Tumblr slayyyyy

•Additional Tags - Switch!Spencer , Switch!Reader , Spencer is a needy brat LMAO , Team has ‘no ideaʼ you two are hooking up (Be so mf fr they do) , Good aftercare is so valid , Spencer loves being cuffed and teased muahaha

As much as this last case had taken out of me, I was more than happy to get to spend some time in my hotel room while the jet refueled and everyone got their bearings. Itʼs not home - far from it, Iʼd been missing my own bed for the majority of our time here in whatever state it was now - but at least it was something.

But of course, the reprieve wouldnʼt last long - a sharp knock on my door confirmed that, about 20 minutes after Iʼd laid down to sleep.

“What…ˮ I groan, frustratedly looking over at the clock.

The knock, again, more persistent this time. And I recognize its pattern now, three short tap-taps. Spencer.

My heartbeat, despite my minor annoyance at being woken up, is hammering now. Spencer seems to do that to me, from the moment Iʼd realized I have feelings for him, carrying into whatever it is that we are now. Secret trysts that Iʼm sure are no secret to our team members, especially Garcia, because sheʼd pried it out of me almost immediately and now waits in her dark little room with nothing else but excitement for the latest updates on us, it seems.

“Are you awake?ˮ A gentle but still much-too-loud voice asks.

I tumble out of bed, rushing to the door. I donʼt even have time to make sure I look okay - Iʼm much too worried about anyone else hearing him. The door is unlocked and pulled open in record time, a stunned lanky man quickly and semi-quietly forced inside.

“Spence, someoneʼs gonna hear you if you keep on like that.ˮ I chastise him, shutting and locking the door behind us. No sooner have I done so, than his lithe form overtakes me, nestling into the crook of my neck with a groan that seems both relieved and not relieved at all.

“Donʼt care,ˮ He pushes me back, until my legs meet the mattress and fold. Quickly following on top of me, he sighs, “Been too long. I miss you. You know I have an eidetic memory, yeah? Doesnʼt mean shit when Iʼm up late and even thoughts of you arenʼt enough to keep me satiated.ˮ

“Someoneʼs gonna-ˮ Hear, I want to say. He knows, of course he does. And Iʼm only half-complaining, with his lips at my neck and his leg sneaking up between mine the way he also knows.

“Donʼt care.ˮ He repeats, the low moan at the back of his throat breaking through into the silent room. “I told you I miss you. Should I tell you about what I use my memory for? And just how much that hasnʼt been enough lately? Or should I show you?ˮ

Itʼs clearly a rhetorical question, but still, he seeks the permission I am more than happy to grant.

“Tell me. Uh, show me. I mean-ˮ

“I can do both,ˮ Even in the dark, I know heʼs got that matter of fact smirk on his lips. He reaches down, holding me by the hip with one hand while the other slips into my pajamas, a practiced motion heʼs all too good at by now. “Usually this is what I remember first. The way your skin feels, how nice it is to make you tremble beneath my touch.ˮ

I buck up, and he chuckles.

“All too eager, arenʼt you? Clearly youʼve been thinking about it too, huh, pretty girl?ˮ A pointed question he knows Iʼll struggle to answer, with his hand and his voice torturing me so.

“No eid- identical- uh, no memory recall whatever for me.ˮ

“Still wouldnʼt satiate, I bet.ˮ He remarks, casually rubbing circles and patterns over my panties. This is how he operates, surely and with no warning. A gentle but firm kiss to my jaw, and he continues, “Itʼs like that for me, at least. I know no amount of recalling how you feel under me will be enough to match just how nice it is.ˮ

Heʼs right, and of course he is; I can barely handle the teasing, the tone his voice has taken in this short amount of time. And I currently dont care if weʼre heard, either.

“Spence-ˮ

“What is it, sweetheart? Too much for you? Not enough?ˮ

“Please?ˮ

“Words, honey. Youʼve gotta use your words. Or you can show me, Iʼm okay withthat too.ˮ He guides my hand down to his.

“More.ˮ I plead, working to undress myself before his hands take over.

“You only have to ask.ˮ

True to his word, Spencer pulls the fabric away, no longer allowing it to be a block between us. Itʼs lost somewhere in the sheets as he kisses me, his practiced hands no longer in the mood to tease. He slips a finger in, and when I let out a keening whine, another, his free hand going automatically to my mouth.

“Now as much as I say I donʼt care, youʼve gotta be a little quiet for me,ˮ He goads, knowing this will only make it harder for me to do so. His breath is hot in my ear, his fingers working a motion thatʼs both breaking pent up weeks old frustration, and yet causing more tension in my belly. “Much as I love your voice. Your sounds. The-ˮ

I rut up against him, my lips opening around his thumb. He works it into my mouth, his voice lowering even further.

“Cmon, show me how much you missed me, huh, princess?ˮ

I moan, words lost in my mind as it spins. Every tug of his fingers between my thighs is building a high Iʼm chasing, and when I get to this point, Iʼm not talking - he is. And he knows it, knows the right words to say to build and break me.

“This is what Iʼm after, this is what I canʼt just remember. Because itʼs all too much to remember how good it feels to destroy you.ˮ

Please, please. I canʼt hold off much longer.

“Now are you gonna cum for me, sweetheart?ˮ

I nod, lips opening and letting his hand free from my mouth as my breaths grow heavy. “Canʼt - Please, Spence, please-ˮ

He presses me further into the mattress, murmuring sweet and dirty nothings into my ear as the dam breaks and I ride my high. Iʼm far too sensitive following, and when I try to push him away for a moment, allow myself to collect some sort of reprieve before we continue, he chuckles lowly.

“See, I can recall that clear as day. But itʼs so much sweeter to have it happening in front of me, you know?ˮ He nestles in beside me, turning me to face him.

Nigh immediately, Iʼm reaching for his belt buckle. Of course he wouldnʼt have changed into comfortable clothes, not even this late- Iʼm sure this was his plan all along, and he tried to fight it as long as he could.

“Someoneʼs eager.ˮ He quips, the smirk growing.

“Youʼve got me thinking about it,ˮ I sigh, letting him maneuver himself out of the constricting clothing. “Coming over and getting me all hot and bothered. I really ought to…ˮ

“Ought to what?ˮ He goads, pulling me onto him with a low noise as we brush together. “Hmm? Are you gonna say…you ought to punish me?ˮ

I nod, rubbing back against him. He lets out a moan, hands gripping my hips tighter.

“I remember how that feels,ˮ He pulls me closer, voice dropping. “But for your sake, maybe you should refresh me.ˮ

When he reaches for me again, I pull back, pinning his hands down above his head. I know he could get out of it if he really wanted to - Iʼm strong, but not stronger than him - but he most certainly doesnʼt want to get out of it. And Iʼm enjoying it far too much to stop myself now.

“Whatʼre you gonna do, cuff me?ˮ He snaps, the bratty attitude far too practiced and already making me a soaking mess.

“I might.ˮ I reach for my pair, knowing all too well that heʼll absolutely lose it once I let go on him. I can hardly stand the anticipation. “Scared, Reid?ˮ

“Terrified. Please, donʼt. Iʼve been a good boy, I swear.ˮ

I push him back while he pleads, tightening the metal around his wrists. The look on his face, muffled as it is by the darkness of the room, is more than enough to spur me on.

“Not thinking about this at all, huh?ˮ I shed my top, if only for the knowledge that his inability to reach for my breasts drives him utterly insane. “And Iʼm sure you havenʼt spent many late nights with the memory of me riding you, have you? Havenʼt had your hands on that pretty cock of yours, thinking about how it feels when itʼs me, yeah?ˮ

“N-Not at all.ˮ

“Itʼs a shame, then.ˮ I tease, feeling him harden beneath me with every word. “Iʼll have to make you confess, I suppose.ˮ

His eyes follow my every move as I back up, slotting between his legs and bending down to kiss along his hips.

“Youʼll never get it out of me.ˮ He groans.

“Is that a promise or a challenge?ˮ I ask, not breaking eye contact as I place a kiss on his sensitive head.

“Challenge? Would I…challenge you?ˮ He still holds onto a moment of sanity, until I take him in my mouth, and itʼs lost with a sigh of, “Oh, would I.ˮ

I bob my head, my practiced motions coming in handy now. The usually-full-of- remarks Spencer Reid folds under my touch, soft deep moans and babble of confessions and wish I could pull your hair passing his lips while I work him out.

After a few moments of this, I let him free - at least from the torture of my lips.

“Where are you going? Please, I wanna cum for you, Iʼll tell you everything I did while I couldnʼt stand to wait for you.ˮ He keens.

“Oh, Iʼm far from done with you, Spence.ˮ I slowly, agonizingly slowly, climb back on top of him, making sure to back right up against him as he tightens against the cuffs. “Donʼt you worry, Iʼll have every measly confession pouring from you. You know I will.ˮ

“Please, let me out- Gotta touch you, I just gotta-ˮ

“Shh, be good for me, wonʼt you?ˮ I lift myself over his face, pressing my folds to his lips. “Unless you wanna stay in those forever.ˮ

He shakes his head, vibrating a ‘noʼ against me.

“Good. Now youʼre gonna pay your dues and clean up the mess youʼve made.ˮ

Eagerly, he laps at me like heʼs never had it before. His utter submissiveness overwhelms him, letting me ride his face to my hearts content. Words are muffled and entirely lost in it, and I know by now that the sounds Iʼm making alone will be heard, but I donʼt really care. Iʼm too far gone in how good it feels to finally have him making me cum again.

“Can I touch you now?ˮ

I slide back onto him, teasingly letting myself rest with just the edge of him pressing into my folds.

“Can you?ˮ I look pointedly at his wrists.

“I-oh, my god, clearly not, but-ˮ

“How about this?ˮ I amend. “You give me a confession, you get a reward. Sound fair?ˮ

“Yeah, sounds just fine. I couldnʼt get off without coming here, you realize that, donʼt you? Youʼre the only thing that gets me off anymo-Oh-ˮ His confession is cut short as I slide him a bit further in, just enough to spur him further. “I mean, I get off, donʼt get me wrong here. But nothing feels as good as when itʼs with you. Nothing.ˮ

“Keep going, youʼre doing good.ˮ I praise, sinking a bit deeper.

“Goddamn you feel so good.ˮ He moans. “Like, my hands canʼt even come close to this, are you kidding? I can try all I want, and believe me, I have - Oh, my god, please donʼt stop - Iʼve been trying all the time, I admit that, canʼt hardly stand being around you and not being able to just fuck you whenever I want.ˮ

I push down further, the stretch he gives me loosing my own moan. “How much do you wanna fuck me, Spence? Tell me, please.ˮ

“God, all the time. Itʼs all I can think about when I get down to it - baby, can I please touch you now?ˮ

“Punishment is a bitch, isnʼt it, Reid?ˮ I smirk, starting to push him in and out of me, slowly and with a devious grin that falters at just how damn good it is.

“Baby, Iʼm gonna get outta these and fuck you so good-ˮ

“Try it.ˮ I raise an eyebrow, stopping my motions.

“Oh- No, Iʼm sorry, please donʼt stop. Iʼll be good, I promise.ˮ

“Yeah, you will.ˮ I drop as far as I can take him, savoring the stuttered animalistic groan he lets out as I press down onto him, pulling his hair and moving my hips around him. As he is want to do, heʼs thrusting up into me, even if heʼs unable to reach me with his hands held up as they are. “Eager, sweet boy. Iʼm gonna ruin you.ˮ

And ruin him, I do. The tension and heat in my belly rides and breaks several times, with him unable to form real words except for the continuous begging of please donʼt stop repeated on a loop until I feel Iʼm satisfied with his demeanor.

Once Iʼve tortured him enough, I reach for the cuffs, ready to let him off the leash - knowing that once I do, the balance will shift. Truthfully, Iʼm just eager to let him be true to his word and fuck me like heʼs been dying to.

“You donʼt need any more confessions from me, then?ˮ He huffs, sweat slicked across his brow from the effort of holding back - though heʼs not really done so, has he?

“One last one, I suppose.ˮ I pull off of him, and the pout he gives nearly makes me sit right back down on him again.

“Alright, Iʼll be good and honest with you, then.ˮ He continues while I set to unlocking the cuffs, “You know the other day, just after we got the final piece of evidence put together?ˮ

I nod.

ˮI was so psyched, I couldʼve taken you right there. I donʼt care that everyone would have known, would have seen. Itʼs just something you do to me.ˮ He finishes, his tone light. Oh boy, Iʼm about to get railed. “I love you. And now Iʼm gonna fuck you like Iʼve been wanting to for weeks.ˮ

No sooner is he free, tearing off the shirt he was wearing and looming over me with the hungriest of looks at my body before pressing himself into me. No wait, no teasing - heʼs not got the control for it, clearly, and Iʼm not complaining one bit.

“Next time, you get the cuffs, pretty girl.ˮ He promises, his hands all over my body now that he can manage it. Hard, precise thrusts, his voice heavy and fucked-out.

“And Iʼll show you just what Iʼve been wanting to do that Iʼm gonna savor in my mind after.ˮ

My nails are leaving deep trails in his back, surely leading to marks that would raise questions if anyone else saw. Heʼs so far in me, almost bottomed out, and itʼs almost too much and yet not enough all at once. I pull him closer, and his hand tangles in my hair while the other clasps around my throat.

“Youʼre all mine.ˮ Spencer growls - truly, thereʼs not other word for it, the purely animal drive taking him to a world where itʼs just us, just this. And Iʼm there too, crying out with the ecstasy his body causes my own.

“All yours.ˮ

“Thatʼs right, pretty girl. Say it for me, I wanna hear you say it.ˮ

“Iʼm all yours, Spence- oh, my god-ˮ

“Good, thatʼs good. My pretty girl. Youʼre so tight, you feel so good wrapped around me, donʼt you? God, what a sight.ˮ Here he is, in his rambles now, and I can hardly contain how close I am. “Wanna tell everyone this is mine. Iʼm the only one that gets to have you, gets to fuck you like this. See you break for me. Only me.ˮ

“Only you, Spence, only you-ˮ

“Cʼmon, I know youʼre close, I can feel it. You get so much tighter, god, if itʼs even possible-ˮ

“Spencer-ˮ

“Thatʼs my girl, cum for me.ˮ

“Donʼt stop-ˮ I can feel the cord in me ready to snap, chasing my most intense orgasm of the night with his words and the feeling of him slamming so deep inside me. “More, Spence, you can give me more-ˮ

“Sweet girl, of course, I know you can handle it.ˮ He pushes himself fully in, my breath catching at the slight pain, yet itʼs still so good, I canʼt stop it, I donʼt want to. “Want me to fuck you so good with all of me, donʼt you?ˮ

I nod against his grasp, and he loosens it a bit, kissing me fervently.

“Please, please cum for me, I wanna feel you all over me, beautiful.ˮ He reaches down, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. Itʼs the last thing I need to send me over that edge, and I cry out, his name slipping past my lips unwarranted. “Oh, baby, love how you say my name. Like itʼs a prayer, like Iʼm a god.ˮ

“Donʼt stop, Spence-ˮ

“Iʼm close, baby- Oh, I wanna cum in you-ˮ

Another orgasm follows near immediately after this one, and Iʼm grasping at him while heʼs chasing his own, his hands fumbling and his thrusts getting sloppy. He grips the sheets, his breaths stunted.

“Cum in me, please-ˮ

“Iʼm gonna, god, Iʼm so fuckinʼ close-ˮ He tightens around me, muscles shaking as he lets loose, and now itʼs his turn to moan my name a lot louder than he should while he cums. Heʼs so pretty when he does, too - the crease that works between his brows, the round pucker to his lips. Partly through, he kisses me, hard. And when heʼs done, his grip loosens, falling slack on top of me with a contented sigh.

A few moments pass where he just holds me, peppering soft kisses across my face and telling me you did such a good job, baby. Then, he pops up with a smile and comes back with water and a towel, cleaning up after himself.

“Satisfied?ˮ I chuckle, slowly pulling my clothes back on.

“Almost.ˮ He dips his head down, capturing a nipple in his mouth for a few moments. I groan, overstimulated, but still too happy to appease him. “Now, Iʼm satisfied. Iʼm staying in here, okay? Donʼt care if someone sees at this point.ˮ

“Spence?ˮ

“Mmhm?ˮ

“I love you, too.ˮ

[penvisions]

return the favor {chapter 22}

Pairing: Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Smuggler! Reader || M! OC x Pre Boston QZ! Reader (flashback scenes)

Summary: Memories often spring up at the worst of times, but as you continue to travel alone there's not much else to occupy your mind.

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: minor character death, m! oc death, canon typical violence, canon typical language, cursing, insult, sexual content, non con, allusions to non con sexual advances, allusions to p in v, unprotected p in v that results in pregnancy, kissing, pregnancy, symptoms of pregnancy, mentions of nausea but no vomiting, allusions to child loss, fighting, blood, reader gets injured, joel gets injured, guns, gun violence, self-depreciating internal monologue, if i left anything out pls lemme know!

A/N: trying something new with this chapter, i hope it reads well! thank you to everyone who participated in the poll for the next few chapters of this fic! this one is a little shorter, but the next one will be a doozy. my mind is a little overwhelmed with school and tutoring and four different WIPS

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Joel was trying.

He was trying to tamp down the anxiety he knew would thrum in his veins the second the gates of Jackson closed behind him. Back out in the unknown and unpredictable landscape. Winter was granting him a passive day, no snow, no biting wind, cloud coverage clear for the sky to shine a light blue to crystal clear you would think it was a brisk summer day. But the pause in extreme weather aside from the near freezing temperature did nothing to quell the pulse beneath his skin.

He was alone, traveling with a teenager he had come to care about in a dangerous way.

The journey had been meant to be made with Tess, first. Strong-willed, no-nonsense saint of a woman for taking what he could offer her and not asking for anything in return. Just wanting to share space and renown within a controlled setting that allowed for them to execute their runs and make what passed for a decent living back in what was left of the quarantine zones. To share their bodies when human nature sparked connection in the oldest and most instinctual of ways. She had turned an eye to his abuse of the very same things they traded for food, for water, for supplies for their shabby apartment that had seen far better days before they stepped foot inside.

Then journey was then meant to be made with you. A surprise in the moments after her death. Skilled in many things and willing to help a man suddenly saddled with a teenager he had no clue how to interact with. But he had, once upon a time. The situation tasting of irony and self-destruction. Selfless to the point of disembarking on your own path in the wake of his own attempt at running when faced with something too real for the world. Maybe in the Before times, it would have worked out. Perhaps a meet cute as he delivered his brother to an urgent care for a drunken blunder, a work accident he himself fell victim to, or a begged visit for Sarah should she had fallen off her bike or taken a tumble in soccer practice. Maybe then it would have been given life, hopeful glances and lingering touches that would have turned into nervous dates. Nervous dates that would give way to regular familiarity and then heated nights beneath sheets of his bed.

But it had never should’ve blossomed in the now, in the after. And yet, it had tried.

Ellie was mad. She wasn’t trying.

Not the first day at least.

Speaking when spoken to, ire and hurt flaring uncomfortably in moments he could sense weren’t aimed at him. At least not completely. Aimed at you, for going back on your word. Something you wouldn’t have had to do if he hadn’t screwed up so monumentally by falling for you. He had been wrong in his accusations, throwing the proposition you made to him all those days ago back in your face. Like you had forced yourself on him, forced him into thinking of you that way, of wanting you that way. But it had been him, his decision to take you up on it in his grief. Wanting to feel something other than the gaping hole that seemed to eat up more and more of him as the years went by.

But instead of just taking his body in the ways he allowed you to, you had also begun to heal that black hole he was made up of. Slowly and so minimally at a time that he hadn’t noticed until it was too late.

He stopped and made the time to teach her how to shoot the rifle, hoping it would help to bring her out of her shell. And it worked, he silently thanked the universe, it worked. She was cracking jokes and quipping like normal. Mirth lighting up her eyes and questions flowing from her. And he indulged them, as best he could. Telling her of how he supported himself before the world fell apart. About how he always dreamed of singing and making music.

But just as everything seemed to be on the mend, it was broken once again.

With the crack of a wooden bat.

“A-Angelo?” You voice was as shaky as your reaching hands, fingers brushing against the man’s face only a few steps away. He was older, that much was certain. Only a year apart back then, back when the world functioned in an entirely different way. Only a year apart, but two decades of time separating you now, turned into completely different people. A wave of emotions at finding your family by pure chance and circumstance in the wilds of a state you had never been to before while on your way to look for them hit hard. You both surged forward and embraced, the man’s arms coming around you and tightening.

“I thought it was you, the hair,” He choked out, deep voice cracking. He was so broad, tall frame looming over you, developed fully into a man who had survived the worst of nature and humanity. Just as you had grown into a woman who took nothing of ill nature aimed at you, taking the things that had happened to you and using it as a foundation to be stronger.

“It’s me, I’m okay.” You gripped his shoulders tight, pushing him back a little to look him over.

“No injuries, no bites, you’re okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m okay….We both are.”

That’s when your mind decided to remind you of the other voice you heard, the feminine one.

A young girl, no more than her teens and far too skinny was half concealed behind a tree trunk a few yards away. Her eyes were brown, honey brown and beautiful and they reminded you of so many people lost to space and time. They shown just as Taylor’s had done, once upon a time. Like you had both talked of wishing to see on a bright new, chubby face…

“Oh.” The phantom jolt of a kick felt through the skin of your aunt’s stomach so many years ago sprung to life in the palm of your hand. “Oh, Angelo. I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He detached from you, taking a few steps toward the girl, now in between you both equally. He held out a hand to her, his gloves tattered and stitching frayed in certain places.

“It’s okay, she’s okay. She’s family.”

“You’re so beautiful,” You gently coached her out, hoping nice words would help her to feel safe. “I’ve never met you, but I’ve waited a very long time to. You- you can call me by my name or Bean, if you’d like?”

“This is our cousin, from mom’s side. Do you remember her saying that we needed to go East?”

A small nod, wide eyes taking in the situation.

“It was to find her. She’s good, smart, she can help keep us alive.”

“You’ve been doing good on your own.” She didn’t move, not taking a step to back away and put distance between you nor toward you in a hesitant greeting. Her wide brown eyes were alert, telling of the things she’d experienced and been witness to. Of how cautious she was in the face of new people, a good thing to be but completely unwarranted in this particular case.

“Yes, but…Adela, we…we need help. This season, it’s harsh and we don’t know this land as well.”

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, I know we’re practically strangers but we are related. I know that doesn’t mean much these days to some people, but it means a great deal to me. I will do everything in my power to protect you, just like your brother.”

Hours later, after a shared meal and an introduction of your gifted appaloosa, camp was made and secured. Adela was fast asleep, one of the blankets you had tucked underneath the saddle wrapped around her small frame inside her sleeping bag. Light snoring sounding from the bundle she made against the horse.

“We’re the only ones that made it.” Angelo said before you could even figure out how to ask after everyone. Outbreak day a rather taboo subject amongst those that survived it. For Joel, at least, for you it was easier to divulge but still not a light subject to talk about. You had been willing with Ellie, with Maria.  The first to quell her curious questions, to allow her another perspective on the events before her time that shaped the world into the one that she knew. The second to appeal to her, to connect with someone who felt comfortable.

“We didn’t know anything was going on for a while, you know how it is working in a ware. house all day. But when I got home that evening, apparently grandma had passed during the morning. Scared the hell out of everyone when she came sprinting into the living room and lunged at dad.”

“I…I can’t imagine, I’m so sorry. I know I had a missed call from the house that day, but I had been running late. And then, you know….”

“It’s okay,” One of his gloved hands reached out, taking the closest one of yours and squeezing. “We both made it, Adela made it. I love our family and cared so much for everyone, but this world is too harsh for them. It was always going to be us and that’s the only comfort I have in what happened.”

Silently agreeing, you squeezed his hand back. He was right, your grandparents had softened in their age, his parents and your father caring for them together. Soft in their endearment too, not suited for a life of constant unrest, of constant fear and paranoia. Of scrounging for food and basic supplies, having to defend what was yours by any means necessary.  

“I was traveling with a man from Boston QZ and a girl, we were trying to find her family out this way. The last lead would’ve taken us to the University of Eastern Colorado.” You admitted over dinner the next day, having taught Adela the basics of how to properly interact with a horse, how to climb up in the saddle. While she was tall, she was skinny. Alarmingly so, but Angelo assured you that he always made sure she had enough to eat. He was willing to go without to provide for her, to ensure her still growing body had as much as it needed, or close to it at least.

“We were just there,” He took a breath, savoring the smell of the coffee that you had brewed for him as you all settled around the fire for the night. Scraps of foil that had contained easy, portioned meals to through on the fire that Maria had provided you with. “Well, around there. We came across a group of people settled into an old lodge town. Not to far from the city actually.”

Something about the man’s tone had you delaying your questions until Adela had laid down to rest for the night, tired from the day of interaction. But she was warming up to you, a familiar comfortability between you both as you talked to her about her mother. She admitted quietly that Angelo wasn’t willing to talk about their parents, people she had never had the chance to meet. The chaos of Outbreak day and those following it too much for him to talk about.

“We-uh, we left the group pretty quickly.” The man cleared his throat, turning around to ensure that his little sister was indeed asleep and not feigning it in order to eavesdrop. “The leader, god – what was his name? It doesn’t matter, he was so nice at first. Preaching about how people need to stick together, that his flock chose him to lead them and look after them.”

Your heart sank to your stomach, religious fanatics always putting you on edge. The way they manipulated the words of the bible in order to further their own agenda. And the way Angelo described him as initially nice and welcoming. A ploy, a trap laid out to ensnare people.

“But the first morning there, he came to visit us in the small set up they provided us with. Asked Adela to go out on a walk with him while I was still asleep. She hadn’t wanted to go, but felt obligated. Like he was just going to give her a tour or somethin’ and it was harmless, ya know?”

The rush of blood in your ears was loud, but you strained against it, needing to hear the words coming from the man beside you.

“He- that motherfucker, he exposed himself to her. Said that if she wanted to stay and use their resources that she needed to earn her keep. She begged me to leave right that second, to gather our stuff and make a run for it. But I don’t her we needed to act like nothing happened, to wait until nightfall and take what we could. So we did….but if you said you were traveling with a girl…brown hair, short, scar in her eyebrow?”

“Yes.” You breathed out, body thrumming with fear. No….no…there was no way Ellie could’ve been taken by the same men. She wouldn’t willingly go with anyone, had been hesitant to even let you or Joel out of her sight for too long….That meant…Joel had to have been injured in order for them to steal her away from him.

“She was unconscious, they were…they were carrying her into the settlement.”

Your head shot up, drink spilling over your hands cupped around the thermos.

“No.” You stood, hands steady despite the flood of emotions raging around in your mind. “No, no, no. I know those people, without them I wouldn’t have made it back out this way. We traveled from the other coast.”

It was late, but you didn’t care. You were gathering everything you needed, your pack and half of the food supply.

Adela roused at the noise, springing up and reaching for your hands.

“No, please, don’t leave us. We’ve lost too much already.” Tears were in her wide eyes, tugging at your heart in more ways than one. You crouched down in front of her, clasping your gloved hands around her own. Giving her your undivided attention.

“Honey, please, listen to me. I’m- I – I don’t want to leave you two, but I have to. Please understand. The girl that you saw, that was…she’s important to me. And she needs my help. I’ll see you again, I promise. I swear to you, Adela, I will see you again. Behind the walls of Jackson, we can…we can have a life there.”

Standing, you pulled her into a tight embrace.

“I’ll tell you embarrassing stories about your brother from when we were little.”

Pulling the map from your pocket, you circled the spot for Jackson with a marker.

“Here, this map will get you back to a settlement. Jackson. It’s large, has walls, it works. Ask for Maria or Tommy, tell them my name and that I sent you. Tell them you’re my family, you are. Take this,” You moved to wrap your old coat you had draped over your lap over the small frame of the girl and push the map that would lead them back to Jackson in the man’s hands.

The man surged up and gripped you tight in a bear hug, his body wrapped completely around you like he would do ever since he had begun to tower over you as children.

“Please, be safe!”

“Seek refuge in Jackson. I’ll return there, I promise.” You urged as you mounted the horse, reigns tight in your hands.

You clicked your tongue and tugged hard, urging the horse forward. The sound of hooves beating on the frozen ground was the only sound in the quiet, frozen night.

The remains of the a few bodies were scattered about the derelict campus that had been the destination sought out by them. Joel and Ellie. Those you were searching for nowhere to be seen, only hints of them in the bullet casings, the torn-up dirt, a bat broken in half- the jagged ends of one piece soaked in a deep red stain of blood. Joel’s, if your cousin’s words and your spiraling thoughts were correct.

Internally cursing at the man for pulling it out, for not waiting for a better moment, for not thinking in the haze his mind must’ve been.

Just as you began to trace the trail of rather fat droplets, you heard the crunch of someone stepping on fallen leaves behind you. Before you could even turn around completely to face them, someone was wrapping their arms around your neck, cutting off your air.

Your last thought was of Angelo and Adela. Of Joel and Ellie.

‘It was hot. Sweltering. And your dress was too tight over your swollen middle. It was a small bump, barely visible from the front, more so from the side. You had thought you indulged in too much food one evening after a deer had been caught but the teasing jab soon delved into something more serious. Especially when the swelling hadn’t gone down in the following days and nausea became a morning ritual.

You had been ecstatic, a first for you. And exciting thing you had always wanted. A faint thought you hadn’t entertained even in a working world, a notion you hadn’t thought possible at all with the demise of the world. When you had told him, Taylor had shared in your excitement, immediately beginning to hoard everything he could loot from the nearby state park. Gathering everything you could use, whether it was to repurpose it or store it for the future.

You had found a pocket of happiness and security in the rubble of the world, hidden deep in the forests of Tennessee in the form of a man who welcomed you into his space when all you had wanted to do was run. Finding yourself injured and needing aid, he had offered it to you.

What had begun as a small stay to ensure you would heal okay, that your stitches were secure and wouldn’t pull. But the conversations that flowed from one to another over those first few days tied you to each other. Braiding together your futures in such a wonderful way. There was no way to know how badly the universe would fray the untethered strings.

The only consolation was that the nights were cooler, the evenings and mornings twinged with a chill that signaled the end of an unseasonable warm fall. But as time moved on, Taylor had pleaded with you to consider staying close to the cabin. You had agreed, the symptoms of your pregnancy making it hard to do much of anything for long. Hunting and patrolling far too much for you to handle at the moment.

You were tending to the horses when he appeared behind you, arms snaking around your shoulders. The tickling of his facial hair sprouting giggles from you. The horses snickered, sharing in your delight. After securing them back in the modest stable, large hands were wrapping around you and sweeping you off of your tired feet.

“C’mon, princessa, let’s go have a nap.”

“But I don’t wanna,” You whined, not wanting to waste the sunshine while it was still showing, winters notoriously gray and overcast in this part of the region. The looming mountains casting dark shadows over pockets of land. Thankfully the cabin wasn’t in one of those regions, hidden well by the tall trees and stained a dark green all along the roof to avoid searching eyes to those at a higher altitude.

“Who said we were gonna sleep, silly girl?” Taylor swooped down to kiss you fully on the lips. Stirring warmth in your core. With a deep laugh at the chasing of your lips after his, he carefully rushed up the stairs and through the front door. “I’m gonna devour you, you’re too good looking a snack to leave untouched.”

“Oh hush,” You curled your hands into the long hair he had tied into a bun at the back of his head. Taking the band from around it and causing the strands to cascade around his handsome face.

“Glowing and full of me, carrying our baby in your pretty little tummy. Good god, you’re constantly on my mind, princessa, you’re my entire world.”

“And you’re mine, mi amor.”

Bubbling giggles flowed through the cabin as he made his way up the stairs and through the small landing. Into the bedroom that you found happiness in the midst of the fallen world.’

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summoned pt2

Read Part 1 here! See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: Now that your wish has been fulfilled, Loki has no choice but to leave as he is no longer bound to you.

Pairing: Incubus!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 6.4k [grab your drinks, grab your snacks, you're gonna be here a while]

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers you should know the drill by now); vaginal fingering; unprotected p in v; light cussing; angst

Things to be aware of: Loki is a sex demon, not a god, in this one

"Loki it's time to return. Your duty with this mortal woman is fulfilled."

Lilith's voice floated into Loki's ears in the otherwise quiet of your bedroom. As soon as you'd said the words he knew it was only a matter of time before he was either summoned to another's bed or recalled back to her domain to await his next assignment.

He was just feebly hoping that it wouldn't come so soon. That perhaps he could just have one more night like this.

Just a few more hours to hold you.

"At least let me stay until she wakes," he grumbled, the agitated tone causing you to stir in your sleep. "Let me say goodbye to her."

"Could you do it?" her melodic snake-like voice taunted in his ear. "Could you say goodbye to her and bear to see the sadness in her eyes? Could you say it without kissing her? Touching her? Showing her that you've fallen in love with her?"

"If I leave now and she wakes up to nothing I will hurt her," he argued through gritted teeth. "She's been hurt enough times. I refuse to add to that pain."

"Better she be hurting but alive," she countered. "If you stay longer, if you say goodbye to her, you will want to have one last kiss. One last embrace. You'll wish to make love to her. And once you do, because of how strong your emotional bond with her is, you will deplete her of her life force. Completely. You won't just drive her mad, Loki. You'll kill her."

He ground his teeth together, tears stinging his eyes as if they were made of acid. "So my choices are to hurt her or to kill her? We're doomed regardless?"

"Come back, child." The gentle tone behind her words had him taken aback. "We have much to discuss. And I think you care for her enough that you would rather the outcome where she may still walk among her world and live another day."

When moments passed that he could no longer feel Lilith's presence in his mind, he gently laid your sleeping form flat on your bed, his heart already aching as you began to let out small whimpers in protest, your hand clinging desperately to his shirt as if you knew he was about to leave you forever.  "I'm sorry, darling," he whispered as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

Once he'd coaxed your hand to let him go, he stared at you for a moment, desperately committing each delicate feature on your face to memory, before turning back and disappearing from your life forever.

"Welcome home, my child. It's so good to finally see your face once more."

Loki arrived back at Lilith's domain with a sullen look coloring his expression, the thought of you waking up to find him gone looming over him with an ominous persistence. Just imagining your face as you opened your eyes to an empty bed had him physically aching to return to you, to hold you and apologize profusely for even leaving you for a few short hours. The image of the hurt in your eyes akin to poison eating away at him from the inside out.

"You wish to be with her, don't you? The human girl?"

"Gee, Lilith, what gave me away?" he hissed, earning what seemed like a compassionate stare from the superior succubus. A look akin to a mother staring upon a petulant child throwing a slight tantrum. "I love her. And you called me away from her just as she began to feel as if she finally had a constant in her life. How insidious are we that the moment a wish as pure as hers is granted, we take it away once she realizes what she had? It sickens me, Lilith. To my core."

"Loki what if I told you there is a way? That there are certain…arrangements in place for our kind in the event that a situation such as yours ever arose?" The treacherous feeling of hope bloomed in his chest at her words, at even the remotest prospect of being able to return to you. To come home.

Home.

Not once did the demon ever think that there would be any place in any plane of existence that he could ever truly call that. Not even Lilith's domain if he was being truly honest with himself. Only to come to the realization that made his now beating heart swell as it dawned on him.

Home wasn't a place. It was a person. You.

His beautiful little mortal.

"What must I do?"

"Just like that?" She seemed to do away with hiding how confounded she was at his lack of hesitation. "Not even a moment of pause to think about what could be at stake--"

"Lilith please," he spat out, already growing exasperated of her nature of teasing out a conversation to longer than it absolutely needed to be. "You tell me there's a way for me to be with her again, yes or no?"

"Yes but--"

"Then tell me what I must do. Do I need to tell her to make another wish? Must I make a wish myself?"

"You need to relinquish your immortality," she blurted out, the concern now rife on her features as the words echoed around the caverns of her domain. "The arrangement is that one must surrender their immortal life in exchange for one mortal lifetime. What happens after that one lifetime is over is…unknown to me."

"Because I lack a soul?"

She gave him a pitying smile. "Yes, my child. There is no guarantee that when your time with her is over that you would rejoin her in her afterlife; however, miracles have been known to happen. Perhaps you'll be the exception."

"Have there been others with a similar plight? That took the same decision? What happened to them?"

"Truthfully, other than the knowledge that they did not return home, there is nothing I can tell you. Perhaps their existence simply ceased to be and there was nothing waiting for them on the other side. Perhaps they did move forward to the next stage of their lives and they found their loves again in the next life. As I said, there is no guarantee.

"Now I can understand if you will have your hesitations, so I can offer you to think it over while you're fulfilling your next--"

"I'll take it," Loki cut her off. He didn't need time to think things through; the only option he was interested in rang as clear as your voice breaking through the buzzing busy noises of other mortals drudging through their own existence back in your home. The one that would lead him back to you. "A single, finite lifetime with her is worth more than an eternity bereft of her. I'll take my chances."

The smile that Lilith gave him now was more akin to how he saw good-hearted mothers smiling at their children whenever the realization hit them that just because that person would always be their child, that child had already grown to become an adult ready to make their own decisions. It was a bittersweet smile rife with the mixture of excitement for what they would make of their lives and the stinging question of when they would see each other again.

"I wish you all the happiness with your mortal, Loki. Come with me. We shall begin the ritual. Your final ritual." She held a deceptively unaged hand toward him, silently instructing him to take it. "And then you can go home. Start your new life with your…?" she trailed off, prompting him to say your name.

"Y/N," he finished. "Her name is Y/N." Even merely saying your name had him helpless against the smile that crept up on his face.

My Darling Y/N,

When you wake I suspect you will be disoriented, confused, perhaps even angry. I would not blame you. You will wake on this morning to an empty bed, and for that I must apologize. Never did I wish to leave in such haste and without even a proper goodbye; you deserve much better than that. Better than me.

While you slept, I was summoned back to Lilith's domain, which is where you can safely suspect I am now. She's…she's complicated to describe, but I suppose in your realm she is to me something akin to a boss and a mother all at once. As much as I would rather not be sent to my next assignment, it would also be safe to suspect that if I am not already there, that I am on my way. Believe me when I say this: With all my heart, or at least whatever I may have that resembles a heart, I would rather be holding you right this moment.

But it seems that when you verbally acknowledged that your wish had been fulfilled, then my obligational tether to you was severed. There was no longer a force that bound me to you, and I was susceptible to being summoned by another once more.

Chances are you will never see me again, and I feel hollow even saying this. But know that even if you may not perceive me, that whenever I am there, in your realm, I will always make time to check in on you. I may have been forced to leave you, but you, my beautiful little mortal, will never leave me. You are my favorite. I fear you will always be.

Y/N, all I wish for you now is that you would live your life no longer feeling alone. That even if it seems that way, you would remember that there will always be someone that would care for you and only wish happiness for you for the rest of your days. Even if I can no longer hold you, if ever you should feel a stray breeze on a motionless day, or a presence in a seemingly empty room, know that that would be me. Doing what I can to let you know that I am still with you.

Yours,

Loki

By the time you left for work that morning, you'd memorized every word in the letter that Loki had left laying on the pillow where you expected him to be, the paper seeming to apologize that instead of a kiss on  the forehead as you woke, its detached nature with the emotionally charged words were all you had to keep you warm.

You'd never been so cold.

Today you were thankful for the neglectful nature of your employers and your coworkers; nobody seemed to notice that along with your red-rimmed eyes, everything in your expression screamed "hollow". All it would take was one look your way and anyone would see that you within moments of waking up your heart had been irredeemably shattered, every nerve in your body on high alert for a stray breeze or an invisible presence, stubbornly searching for something you knew you wouldn't find.

His time with you always had an expiration date. You'd known that since the first night; part of you had even been convinced that you would've woken up to an empty bed after that first night, if you were being completely honest with yourself. And much as you always dreadfully expected that day every time you went off to sleep, a part of you still felt sucker punched when it was actually glaringly staring you in the face.

The way of the Incubi was cruel, you were sure. The moment that you finally had what your soul yearned for, it was yanked out right from under your feet and leaving you in a state as bad as you were before you even blew out that candle. You were even willing to argue that you were in worse shape now. Because at least back then you were simply alone.

Now you were alone and heartbroken. Now you weren't just yearning for a concept, you were aching for someone.

And that ache hit you the hardest coming home from work and finally being faced with the cold emptiness of your apartment. No arms to pull you into an embrace as you walked through the door. No velvety voice that welcomed you home as you felt the tension of the day leave your body.

There was just…nothing. Not even a stray breeze.

A desperation began to course through you as you marched over to the kitchen counter, fishing out a thin candle and the lighter, your heart thundering in your ears as the tears began to well in your eyes. The temperature felt as if it were rising rapidly as you felt your face heating in anger. "What's the point?" you hissed into the darkness. "They'd bring him back to me just to take him away again."

You couldn't manage anything other than silent sobs as you sank to the floor, the harsh, cruel reality forcing you to let it sink in. Loki was gone. And you would never see him again.

It felt like time had began to slow into a snail's pace as you stayed in your spot, slumped over with your head resting on your knees, arms wrapped around your legs in a desperate attempt to hold yourself together while the sobs kept coming. Still no breeze. Still no presence.

Still nothing. Still alone.

Goodbye, Loki, you said inwardly. The words hurt too much to voice out loud at the moment, so thinking them would have to do. I love you.

As your breathing began to take on a less labored pace, you pulled yourself up to your feet and walked over to your bedroom, making the split-second decision to put on one of the long-sleeved shirts that the demon had left behind and wear it to bed. He'd have no use for them anymore.

His words from that first night echoed hauntingly in your head, almost mocking you for somehow finding yourself in a worse state than you were in before he appeared in your life. To sleep alone when one yearns for companionship maybe one of the most cripplingly lonely feelings you can experience.

Apparently it was even worse when one yearned for love.

The sound of a loud thud out in the hall had you shooting up out of bed, reaching over in your nightstand and fumbling for your letter opener before you approached your front door, where whoever had crashed outside still remained, their audible heavy breathing permeating through the dark silence of your apartment. Chills spread throughout your whole body as a soft knocking at your front door followed a few moments later.

Gripping the letter opener tightly and holding it up in front of you to defend yourself, you threw the door open to see who dared to show up at your front door at this late hour. What you saw on the other side had you dropping your feeble excuse for a weapon the second your eyes met.

"Loki?" You inwardly winced at the hoarse sound of your voice as you said his name. This wasn't real. This couldn't be. You were losing your sanity, imagining him here with you.

There was no one there.

He breathed your name in what sounded like relief, taking a step toward you with his arms outstretched as if you pull you towards him. "Stop," you cried out holding your hand out as if it had the power to make him stay exactly where he was. "Don't. You're not here. You can't be. You said I was never going to see you again, you left--"

Any words you had left died on your tongue the second he closed the distance between you and wrapped you in his arms. "I know. I know. I'm so sorry, my darling." You found yourself breaking into more sobs as you felt yourself leaning in to his hold, an arm wrapping around you to hold you up, his other hand gently stroking your hair as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your head. "I tried to make it back to you as fast as I could."

"Why are you here?" you mumbled against his chest, your hands tightly clenching into fists holding on to the fabric of his shirt, as if you could hold him there if you did so. "And since when do you knock?"

"Since today, sweet girl. I no longer hold my powers. What held me back from returning to you was not another assignment, but rather a ritual. My final ritual." He tucked his fingers under your chin, tilting your head gently so you could look up at him. "I am no longer a member of the Incubi, darling."

"What are you now, then?" Tears kept escaping your eyes with every blink, most of you still refusing to believe that this was real. Even as you placed your hands tentatively on his shoulders, giving a slight squeeze and still finding yourself surprised that you even grasping solid matter to begin with. "Because I'm still not convinced you're real."

Your heart sputtered in your chest as he pressed his lips to your forehead. "I'm here, precious mortal. I'm real and I'm here." He took a look around the apartment, a broken sigh escaping his lips as he saw the kitchen counter, the lone candle and lighter still laying on top. "Were you going to make another wish?"

"I wanted to." You kept your eyes trained to the floor now, afraid that if you looked at him a moment longer you would either burst into more tears or blurt out how you felt about him.

"What stopped you?"

"What was the point?" you scoffed. "I wish for them to bring you back only for you to leave again?" You let out a mirthless chuckle, the ache in your heart worsening as you felt him pull you into a tighter embrace. "I already went through the pain of losing you I wasn't exactly keen on doing it again." He cradled your head against his chest, giving yourself permission to relish in the feeling even for just a few short moments and finding yourself a touch startled when you could hear his own heart beating rapidly; you hadn't been able to before.

"You don't need a wish to bring me back to you anymore," he murmured against the top of your head. "To answer your question of what I am now…I can't be too sure. All I know is I am no longer immortal. I have but one mortal lifetime to spend how I desire. There is no longer a will in this world stronger than my own that determines who I am tethered to. Starting tonight I am free to choose my own path and…that would answer your final question. Why I am here." You let out a shuddering breath as you felt his fingers weaving through your hair, his lips pressing kisses to your temple, down your cheek, and stopping at the corner of your mouth. "Y/N, I'm here for you. I'm here because I have chosen who to tether myself to for this mortal lifetime and what ever may come after, and I've chosen you."

Words began to fail you at his admission, at this potential new reality of him getting to stay with you. With no more fear of someone or something taking him away because he was summoned elsewhere. Of him surrendering an infinite number of days for a finite lifetime with you.

It painted a beautiful picture. A life that felt so perfect that it couldn't have possibly been crafted for you. A dream masquerading itself as reality so that you could wake up and fixate on what was possible instead of what already was. All you could do as the words refused to form was to let out a near incoherent utterance of the final question that burned in your soul with every word that slipped through his unfairly perfect lips.

Why would he do such a thing?

"Why?" He guided your gaze back to him, his eyes shining with tears of his own. "Are you truly asking that, sweet girl?" More tears rolled down your cheeks as your eyes squeezed shut when he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a tender kiss, much like he did the previous night.

Like he did the previous night.

The hissing thought made you recoil against him, the motion making him immediately release you, a panicked and apologetic look in his eyes, the pain in them apparent as he watched you step back from him. "I'm sorry," he breathed out, arms still reaching out toward you, fingers twitching as if there was an ache in him similar to the one you'd felt all day.

"Last night you kissed me and then you disappeared." The words rushed out of you, nearly garbling together with how fast you were trying to talk, every part of you on high alert, afraid that he would vanish again. "I don't want you to kiss me if it means you'll leave again."

A large part of you felt pathetic hearing your own words ringing in your ears, desperation lacing every sound that escaped your mouth. For so long you'd convinced yourself that you needed nothing and no one, and now here you were practically telling the former demon that if he left you again it would rip you apart.

Any other words that may have been lingering at the tip of your tongue died when he walked over to you, lifting you into his arms and walking you both further into your apartment, setting you down onto the kitchen counter so that your faces were level with one another. A shudder ran through your body as you felt his fingers lightly touching the backs of your knees, thumbs stroking the bare skin of your legs as he stepped between them.

A faint whimper pierced the silence of your apartment when he pressed his lips to yours again in a soft, fleeting kiss. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmured against your skin, kissing a trail down to your neck. "I'll never leave you again." You let out a broken moan as his fingers moved aside the neckline of your shirt, tracing his lips along your collarbone, whispering into your skin, "I love you."

You finally felt the cold that cruelly kept you company all day withering away at his words, relief flooding you as a smile pulled at the corners of your mouth. "You're staying?" His whispered yes may as well have been etched into your skin, your heart swelling as you felt him smiling against you when you wrapped your arms and legs around him, pulling him to you as close as you could manage. "Good. The next time someone tries to take you away from me I demand a fighting chance. Because I love you, too."

The air left your lungs in a little squeak as Loki lifted you into his arms once more and off the counter, capturing your lips in a frantic kiss that had you moaning into each other's mouths as he walked the familiar path back to your bedroom. "I was told last night that if I'd tried to love you the way I ached to while I was still a demon that I would have killed you. Depleted you of your life force."

You shouldn't have felt intrigued by the prospect; in fact, fear should have entered your system right about now at the mere thought of being alone with someone who could have ended you in such a carnal manner.

Yet somehow you'd never felt safer than you did at this moment, as he laid you down gently on your bed, his larger frame hovering just above yours as he resumed kissing along your collarbone. "While we need not worry about that any longer, I think it best we still take precautions." You could feel your pulse thundering in your ears as he kissed a path down your clothed torso, stopping above your heart as his roaming hands gave the sides of your hips a light squeeze. "We'll go slow, darling. For now."

The only response you could manage was a mute nod, your breaths coming out in jagged exhales as he pressed his lips to yours once again, fingers working their way to the hem of your shirt and lifting the fabric above your hips. He made quick work to slide your panties down your legs before gliding his hand up your inner thigh, the light touch already causing you to whimper against his mouth. "Loki please--"

Any words that would have followed were overtaken with a piercing moan that echoed in the darkness of your bedroom as long dexterous fingers met your slicked folds, easily working themselves into your entrance and coating his digits in your arousal in slow, sensuous strokes. "If you knew how I've longed to have you like this, my love," he whispered, repeatedly pressing his lips to your cheek and temple in soft kisses. "How I've fought against the urge to seduce you for months."

"Why -- oh f-fuck -- why didn't you?" Your question came out in breathy sighs as his fingers curled up and began to stroke against that soft spot inside you that had only been found prior by your own hand. With the aid of toys that had been locked away and unused for months since the night he came into your life. "I wouldn't have said no."

"Fear, my love." He let out a groan as your hips arched against his touch, driving his fingers deeper into you. "I've driven others I did not even care for to utter madness. I dared not think what I would do to the woman I love."

The mixture of his candid words and the way his fingers never faltered in their movements inside of you made a thrill run down your spine, making your body shake and push you closer to the peak of your climax. Words had all but completely failed you, the only utterance that even held a modicum of coherence being a whimpered 'I love you' as a heat consumed you, his pace becoming unrelenting as he chased toward the peak of your pleasure and shuddered whispers of your name and his mirrored sentiments were murmured into your skin.

"Let go, my darling," he groaned against your neck, proceeding to suck a bruise onto your collarbone and making your hips shoot off the bed as he placed this thumb against your clit and rubbed in slow, tight circles. "Let me feel you come undone."

It was like you felt flames licking along your body as you came with a trebling scream of his name, feeling your walls clenching and fluttering around his digits as he eased you off of your high with unhurried strokes against that same soft spot. You didn't bother holding back the whimper that escaped you when he withdrew his fingers from inside you, the sound of his zipper being undone sending another thrill up your spine in anticipation for what you knew would come next.

Once you felt the head of his length at your entrance, the only sound that came out of you was a whiny moan of his name, repeatedly pleading for more. "If anything feels amiss tell me right away and we'll stop," he warned, letting out a sinful groan as he inched deeper inside of you. "Promise me, Y/N."

You could only manage to nod your head as you made a weak attempt to wrap your legs around him and pull him closer to you, your hands clawing to his back and your lips kissing any spot within your reach. "I promise." The sounds of your moans filled the room as he finally brought his hips flush against yours, completely sheathing himself inside you. "You won't break me," you tried to reassure him in panted breaths. "I trust you."

You hadn't lost your sanity that night like he'd feared. No matter how many times he made love to you as the hours passed. The only thing that had been "lost" had already been his for a good long while.

Your heart.

Six months later

"Hey Y/N. You could take off early today if you feel like it. I personally wouldn't want to spend my birthday at work if I can help it."

You looked up from your desk in your office to see your new boss, Susan, poking her head in through the open doorway. Somehow no matter the mood that the day had taken on, she always found a way to lighten it even by a touch. And in truth, you owed the woman a great deal; she'd been the one to notice that you'd been working yourself nearly bone dry at your previous station and being horribly under compensated for your efforts because your former supervisor had been conveniently 'forgetting' to include your name when sharing the rewards that your team was reaping from your outputs.

So she took matters into her own hands and gave you his job. And his office. And even a little bit more than his salary.

"Thanks, Susan. I'm just gonna send over these reports to you for the month and then I'll head out." A couple of keystrokes later and the reports in question were now in her inbox. "Aaaaand sent." The sound of your office phone ringing made you start in your chair, the caller ID reading 'Reception' and making you give your superior a gesture as if to say 'excuse me' before picking up the receiver. "Hey Janice. What's up?"

"Miss Y/L/N, you have a visitor here," she stammered, her breathy tone evident even through the phone line.

"Tell him I'm on my way out, Janice. Thanks." You chuckled at the schoolgirl giggle that escaped the young woman before you could hang up the receiver, facing your boss with a beaming grin as you turned off your computer for the weekend. "Looks like that's my cue."

She snuck a quick peek at the man waiting for you by the door. "Alright Y/L/N, you gotta throw me a bone here. Where did you find him and does he have a brother? Or a best friend? Or a single dad?"

Without fail, her sentiment had you letting out a hearty laugh, knowing full well that every time she asked these questions, you'd always only answered her with the truth. "I told you, Susan. I made a wish and he just poofed into my life. Like magic."

"Okay but where did you make the wish? Maybe I'll luck out and bump into my own dream boat, I just have to walk around the same part of town."

As you walked out of your office, you placed a hand on her shoulder. "Would you believe me if I told you my bedroom?" you answered with a saucy wink.

Her jaw dropped at the answer she most likely interpreted as anything other than what really happened. "Ohh fuck me running, he's your neighbor? You really won the lottery didn't you?" That had you laughing a touch louder than usual, coming to accept that no matter how truthful your words would be, she would likely never see it as anything other than comical euphemisms and a form of evasion.

When you were close enough to get a good look at the former demon that was waiting for you at the end of the hall, you could feel your heart sputtering in your chest. No wonder Janice was a flustered wreck, you thought to yourself, eyeing Loki's towering frame clad in a phthalo green dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up, tucked into onyx slacks, his raven hair pulled back in a half bun with a few tendrils loose and seamlessly framing his devastatingly handsome face.

"There you are, darling," he spoke with an unmistakable adoration in his tone, his arm already outstretched towards you as you began to approach him faster so you could step into his embrace.

"Guess I'll see you on Monday," Susan spoke from beside you, slowing her pace and waving as she watched you walk off to your boyfriend. You could only manage to throw her a half-hearted glance and a wave back before you were pulled into a warm embrace.

"Here I am," you answered his words playfully as you looked up at him, your chin snugly resting against his chest. "Hi."

Glaringly envious eyes seemed to follow you as you walked home with him hand in hand, never once breaking stride as he asked you questions about your day, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth when you stated that this birthday was leagues better than your last.

"Would that be because your mother finally remembered on the right day?" he prodded with an audibly amused lilt in his voice, quickly switching sides with you before crossing the street so he would be on the side of oncoming traffic.

"Please, she probably started actively forgetting after the way I chewed her out last time we spoke," you snorted, beginning to slow your stride as you reached the final stretch toward your apartment building. "My sister called, though. Still doesn't believe you're real. Then again…probably my fault because I keep telling her the truth of how we met and let's be honest, if anyone told me that same story I'd ask them what they were on and if they could give me some."

As you walked down the hallway leading to your apartment, he slowed his steps to a halt and took you by the waist, maneuvering you until your back was flush against the wall and he was staring down at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Then what was it exactly that made this day leagues better than last year, my love?"

"You really wanna hear me say it, huh?" Your smile threatened to split your face in two as he leaned in closer to you, your lips mere inches apart.

"I do."

"I have you," you breathed out, your whimper muffled as he captured your lips in a tender kiss that threatened to steal your breath away. You let out a squeal and giggled against his lips when he wrapped his arm around you and lifted you off the ground, walking you the remaining distance to your apartment and opening the door with his free hand.

"Keep your eyes closed for me, darling," he whispered, pressing one final tender kiss to your lips before setting you back down on your feet and taking your hands in his. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

His hands squeezed yours lightly, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands as he guided you through your home with careful steps. A smile once again stretched across your face when he placed one of your hands flat on the cold granite countertop of your kitchen. "One year ago you made a wish at this very spot that changed the course of our lives. The wish that brought me to you and made me realize that centuries of merely existing in this plane in small doses was not tantamount to a life lived.

"Y/N coming into your life started my own. The time I have spent with you had me living through the uniquely wondrous experience of yearning for someone even if you were mere feet away. Of waiting for the moment you walked through the door so I could hold you again. Of falling in love and getting to know the extraordinary feeling of being loved in return." You let out a contented sigh as he pressed a tender kiss to your lips once again, freeing his hold on you to place his hands at your side and turn you to face the counter when he pulled away.

You heard the sound of the lighter click and the warmth of its fire, the light crackling of a candle wick faintly registering in your ears. His hand took yours once more and placed a small piece of paper inside, your breath hitching in anxious curiosity on what exactly it was he was doing.

"This is my wish. My plea," he said softly, sighing against your skin as he pressed his lips to your temple. "When I tell you to, I want you to open your eyes, blow out your candle, and then read the paper. This is all I want." Your heart was pounding in your chest as he echoed your words from last year, the urge to open your eyes becoming stronger by the seconds that ticked by agonizingly slow. "Open them," he finally said, the hesitance in his tone louder than the words themselves.

When you opened your eyes, you were met with a cupcake not unlike the one you bought for yourself that fateful day, a striped green candle burning at the center. You took a breath and blew out the flame, unfolding the scrap of paper in your hand, your pulse thundering in your ears as you read the words he'd written out: Please say yes.

The sight that greeted you when you turned to face him stole the air from your lungs: Loki down on one knee, holding up a ring box that housed a gold ring with two emeralds and a diamond in between. "Becoming bound to you the first time was the single best thing to happen in my years of existence," he began, his tone unwavering even as tears shone in his eyes. "It would be my honor and privilege to be bound to you again for the rest of our lives. As your husband. Your partner. Y/N…" His voice broke as he spoke your name. "Will you marry me?"

Tears began to roll down your cheeks as you tried to blink them away frantically, trying to clear your vision as you nodded your answer, finding yourself unable to speak without breaking into sobs as you repeatedly whispered, "Yes."

The world around you faded into nothing but noise in the background as he placed the ring on your finger before lifting you into his arms and pulling you in for a kiss that had your heart swelling, a warmth and a calm washing over you as you felt that you could finally put into words what you felt when you were with him. Home.

Best. Birthday. Ever.

A/N: Aaaaaaaand that's another request off the list 😮‍💨🫡 I hope y'all liked my take on Incubus!Loki and the light sprinkling of smut I put in there (because of course I would he was a sex demon after all), and where I took their story in the end 🥹 Honestly I was planning on ending it with the smut and then I got the idea of what they would do for her next birthday and the proposal just followed 😅

'everything' taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017

Loki taglist:  @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @cheekyscamp @lokisgoodgirl @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

'summoned pt2' taglist: @undertalegirl14 @yukio369 @vanana03 @lokisgoodboy

[stingslikeabee]

@macrodatum

Sayat Nova, from Anthology of Armenian Poetry, ed. & tr. by Diana Der Hovanessian and Marzbed Margossian; "One of a kind"

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

Final attempts to understand before the Shape is unveiled

What is the Light?

Matter. Creation. Complexity. The Light is all these things, and in all things. Look up at the Sky. Light reveals. Light blinds.

What is the Traveler?

A manifestation. A generator. A projector. A computer and storage drive for one form of existence. A cage. A source. A wellspring. A Gardener seeking to sow. A half-truth.

What is the Veil?

A manifestation. An enigma. A blueprint. A mirror. A cocoon and a web. A matrix. A devourer. A reaper. A recycler. A chalice. A xenotaph. A prism. A prison. A black box. Katabasis. Minds; yours, mine, ours. Its. Rivers. All-in-one and one-in-all. The other half.

What are we meant to be?

Not soldiers given orders by the general of a grand campaign of conquest. Not warlords granted power to rule over the weak. Guardians, vested with a singular, true purpose; protect this reality and those passing through it in mortality. See them safely along the path so they may realize their potential. Steadfast sentinels, insatiable explorers, mindful truth seekers; a trinity that ripples across the ocean of life itself.

What are the Ghosts?

A Guardian's guardian. A link. A proxy. A go-between. A stopper on death.

When one dies and vacates their form of Light, the soul is reclaimed to the bottle from which we all once poured... all except Guardians. Guardians remain because another soul stands in the way, one already taken from life but torn back from death and given a new shell. A ghost, holding the reaper at bay. For now.

What is the Witness?

Not the Shape, but the shadow of one. The first child, the first knife to carve flesh and stone. Not the pyramidion, but the block supporting it, lifting it up, making it possible. Many in one, an aspirational reflection of that which was seen darkly beyond the Veil. A seer. An observer. A summoner. A false prophet. A thorn. A witness to the end, to the true Shape.

What is the Darkness?

Thought. Memory. Emotion. Consciousness. Collapse. The mirror's image. A byproduct. You. Me. The universe. The Deep.

What is the Final Shape?

Beauty. Fear. Sorrow. Majesty. A winnower to shape the garden, to give it ultimate purpose. A singular mind with a singular vision and a singular purpose which is what it is because it is all it ever could be. A force of nature yet shaped by a hand. Created to devour you, me, everything and everyone we know. The pyramidion. The peak. The pinnacle. The inevitable.

Choose the form of the destructor.

What is the truth in the Darkness?

Light casts shadows. The shadows dance upon the cave wall, lies projected to convey the truth, the meaning; there is no meaning. We are all the same.

We are all pinched silhouettes impaled on the twitchings of infinitely long spiderlegs.

All the while I thought on the truth of Bashaarat’s words: past and future are the same, and we cannot change either, only know them more fully. My journey to the past had changed nothing, but what I had learned had changed everything, and I understood that it could not have been otherwise. If our lives are tales that Allah tells, then we are the audience as well as the players, and it is by living these tales that we receive their lessons.

— The Merchant and the Alchemist's Gate by Ted Chiang

V. What the Thunder Said After the torchlight red on sweaty faces After the frosty silence in the gardens After the agony in stony places The shouting and the crying Prison and palace and reverberation Of thunder of spring over distant mountains He who was living is now dead We who were living are now dying With a little patience Here is no water but only rock Rock and no water and the sandy road The road winding above among the mountains Which are mountains of rock without water If there were water we should stop and drink Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand If there were only water amongst the rock Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit There is not even silence in the mountains But dry sterile thunder without rain There is not even solitude in the mountains But red sullen faces sneer and snarl From doors of mudcracked houses If there were water And no rock If there were rock And also water And water A spring A pool among the rock If there were the sound of water only Not the cicada And dry grass singing But sound of water over a rock Where the hermit-thrush sings in the pine trees Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop But there is no water Who is the third who walks always beside you? When I count, there are only you and I together But when I look ahead up the white road There is always another one walking beside you Gliding wrapt in a brown mantle, hooded I do not know whether a man or a woman —But who is that on the other side of you? What is that sound high in the air Murmur of maternal lamentation Who are those hooded hordes swarming Over endless plains, stumbling in cracked earth Ringed by the flat horizon only What is the city over the mountains Cracks and reforms and bursts in the violet air Falling towers Jerusalem Athens Alexandria Vienna London Unreal A woman drew her long black hair out tight And fiddled whisper music on those strings And bats with baby faces in the violet light Whistled, and beat their wings And crawled head downward down a blackened wall And upside down in air were towers Tolling reminiscent bells, that kept the hours And voices singing out of empty cisterns and exhausted wells. In this decayed hole among the mountains In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home. It has no windows, and the door swings, Dry bones can harm no one. Only a cock stood on the rooftree Co co rico co co rico In a flash of lightning. Then a damp gust Bringing rain Ganga was sunken, and the limp leaves Waited for rain, while the black clouds Gathered far distant, over Himavant. The jungle crouched, humped in silence. Then spoke the thunder DA Datta: what have we given? My friend, blood shaking my heart The awful daring of a moment’s surrender Which an age of prudence can never retract By this, and this only, we have existed Which is not to be found in our obituaries Or in memories draped by the beneficent spider Or under seals broken by the lean solicitor In our empty rooms DA Dayadhvam: I have heard the key Turn in the door once and turn once only We think of the key, each in his prison Thinking of the key, each confirms a prison Only at nightfall, aethereal rumours Revive for a moment a broken Coriolanus DA Damyata: The boat responded Gaily, to the hand expert with sail and oar The sea was calm, your heart would have responded Gaily, when invited, beating obedient To controlling hands I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order? London Bridge is falling down falling down falling down Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow Le Prince d’Aquitaine à la tour abolie These fragments I have shored against my ruins Why then Ile fit you. Hieronymo’s mad againe. Datta. Dayadhvam. Damyata. Shantih shantih shantih

[ryndicate]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ  A Drop in Time

Fate does not grant death to the weary.

Vampire!Megumi x reader (fem body/pronouns)

notes: me looking at my notes for the next chapter and grinning. i cannot begin to tell you how fun it's going to be. thanks to my beta reader once again! this chapter is a bit shorter than the last but it is v important to moving the plot forward! and yes we actually speak to Megumi in this one im just gonna get that out of the way right now lol.

warnings: vampire lore drop! nothing else that I can think of. Enjoy!

By expanding, you are consenting to viewing adult/dark content, and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Blog rules/DNI

⋆⁺₊⋆ Ch. iii. ☪︎ Masterlist ☪︎ Series Warnings ☪︎ Ch. v ⋆⁺₊⋆

You have odd, hazy recollections of food and water passing your lips, but nothing is clear. 

You feel groggy and unfocused when your eyes finally open and don’t immediately close again. Sitting up is not a simple affair, your back aching and backside sore. You must have been asleep for some time. Your arm still throbs, but it’s duller than you’d expect. You glance down at the bandaging and resist the urge to peel it off and inspect the wound. There’s no way of telling how much or little it’s healed; the risk of aggravating it to sate your curiosity isn’t worth the pain that could follow.

You give a curious stare at the small fireplace on the opposite side of the room. You’ve heard warnings of not lighting fires underground. No one else is here with you, and you don’t know whether to feel relief or unease; before you can decide the door scrapes open.

Satoru slips through the doorway and his eyebrows raise at the sight of you sitting up. “Lambkin is finally awake, is she?”

You don’t answer him, picking at the cloth of your covers, eyes downcast.

He crosses the room and seats himself at the edge of the bed, noting the way you shift away from him.

“I’m here to remedy a mistake I made,” he begins with a grin, one that quirks in annoyance when you speak before he can continue.

“Why aren’t I dead?” you ask dully. “Did the prince die anyways? Did you fail to heal your master’s illness? Does that mean– does that mean I can go home?” Your throat is thick with unshed tears as a wave of longing and hopelessness crashes over you.

Satoru is silent as your shoulders shake, tears starting to streak down your cheeks, and you don’t dare to look up to see whether his beautiful face spells amusement or disdain. You can’t bear him right now.

“Allow me to explain your purpose here, Rumi,” Satoru says gently.

You hate that he’s making an attempt at comfort, even more so that it’s working. Your tears ease, and your hiccups slowly settle before you blink watery eyes up at him.

“It was never so that you would die here. You are Prince Megumi’s fated match.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means that you are priceless now.”

“I don’t know what that means!”

Satoru huffs in annoyance. “I’m trying to tell you that you are safe. Your life is promised.”

“Satoru, you’re making it worse. Again.”

You look to see Megumi standing in the doorway and your breath catches. He looks so different now. His skin seems to have life in it, his hair looks like black silk, and the way he walks as he steps into the room is filled with a power you don’t want to think too deeply about. He’s leagues away from the deathbed you last saw him on.

“Rumi.”

You shudder as he says your name, but you can’t stop yourself from meeting his eyes. They’re a softer, deeper green than your horrific memories supply to you. Focused, intense…but calm. There’s none of the anger you expect; nothing insidious, nothing that should make you feel like a mouse in front of its hunter, but you still can’t relax.

“Satoru did nothing to explain why you were brought here,” Megumi begins.

“Taken.” His lashes flutter as he blinks in surprise at your interruption. You have no spine to back up your words but you say it again anyways softly, eyes averted. “I was not brought, I was taken.”

“Right. You were taken here because that night in your village, I discovered you as my blood match.”

“What is a blood a match?” You finally look at him. He’s sporting an annoyed expression that seems at home on his regal features.

“You humans would like the word soulmate,” Satoru cuts in with a cheeky grin.

Your mouth falls open in surprise, but before you can speak Megumi gives a low curse. “Those two things are not comparable, Satoru! You know this. Stop trying to make a mess of things.”

Eyeing the prince warily, you wait for him to take a deep breath and continue. “A blood match means nothing more than my immortal body happening upon the perfect source of sustenance. So perfect that it will never accept anything less than perfect ever again as long as I draw breath. I fell ill because I was not aware a match had been made, and I suffered the misfortune of consuming lesser blood. Thankfully, Satoru figured out where the match occurred, and that is why you were br—taken. He had to.”

The more he speaks, the more you feel darkness crushing in around you. As transparent as his words appear, something within you whispers that he is hiding something. You choose to believe it. “This cannot be real. There is nothing about this in the texts!”

“This is one of our race’s most sacred bonds.” Satoru crosses one leg over his knee and rests back in the chair. “It’s not for humans to know and make a mockery of in those ridiculous books you humans pray to.”

“Satoru, quiet.” Megumi glares him into silence before turning back to you. “I would like to formally apologize for the manner Satoru showed you on the way here. Had I been of sound mind when he left I would not have allowed such treatment.”

“I don’t believe you,” you whisper, clutching the blanket closer, covering your shoulders as if you could hide yourself from them. The bottom line is that he is a vampire. Sense requires that you reject him without reservation. “I don’t believe any of this. I won’t. What you’re saying is impossible. What you’re saying means…” I can never leave this place. 

The prince sits quietly and waves Satoru down when he stands sharply from his seat. 

“I understand that this change is new and strange. Unsettling. But it is inexorable. As much as I wish otherwise for the both of us, I can do nothing to change this and neither can you. We must submit to fate.”

“This is your fate, not mine!” you spit at him with a sudden ferocity that you didn’t know you possessed. “I am not one of you, I do not need this match, and I don’t need you! I would sooner die than be raised as cattle.”

Satoru is soft, eerily calm in his words as he reprimands of your outburst. “Do not speak to him like that, lambkin. Do you need a reminder of what I’m capable of?” Your body shudders in recollection and you shrink away from the taller vampire, but Megumi rises to meet him. 

“If you cannot remain silent, then leave us. I will not say so again.” When Satoru sits again, Megumi sits on your bed at your side. It takes every ounce of will in your body to not scramble away, but you find the courage to meet his eyes.

“I have no intention of treating you like ‘cattle’, as you chose to put it. You will live well here. You will be treated kindly, and Satoru will learn his manners. You will live in excellence and want for nothing I am capable of providing for you. In exchange, you simply must provide for me. I have no other choice in this matter. Starvation is not an option for me.”

“For you? Is it an option at all?” you ask, quiet and filled with spite.

“It has been chosen by others in the past, yes. But for me, I choose to live,” Megumi returns evenly. “I have obligations that must be met. I’m trying to make you see sense, Rumi. I would rather you choose this to make it easier on yourself. But if you choose to force my hand, then so be it, because there is no other way. I cannot allow myself the death you demand of me.”

“So,” your throat warbles with emotion that you can’t hold back, wet frustration, “You want me to choose to stay, but you won’t let me leave?”

“Yes.”

“How is that any different than being cattle, or your prisoner if you so hate the word?” you demand, voice cracking as you begin to inch away from him.

“How is it not?” Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a broken part of you wants to laugh at the frustrated confusion on his face. His form leans towards yours denying your retreat inch by inch, but the intense focus of his gaze makes you wonder if he’s even conscious of his approach. His emerald eyes are burning. “I’m offering you a comfortable life, one without end that would hold very few discomforts. Why wouldn’t you choose this? Why make this harder than it must be?”

He’s opening his mouth to say more but your heart has closed to him, exhausted of this nightmare, of the way he speaks down to you no matter what scrupulous intent he might think he has. “If you really have to ask such a thing…then you are more of a monster than I thought you were.”

Whatever he was about to say dies on his tongue at your whispered words. Megumi grits his teeth and his eyes harden into a stony glare that has you trembling in fright. Though his demeanor has turned sour he says nothing to reprimand your insult, his head whipping to the side to pin his gaze on the walls. He exhales sharply through his nose, and then he speaks. The words that follow point in the same direction, towards the stone, as if you were beneath even that.

“You are not permitted to leave this room. In a few days I will move you somewhere better suited. Food will be brought to you, and no one will come near you but Satoru and myself until I have selected a trusted pool of servants. I will come to f—to visit—at least four…” He glances at you speculatively, his eyes trailing up and down your form. His lips tug down. “Three days a week.”

A whimper tugs its way up your throat. You try to kill it, but what little sound does escape sounds even more pitiful than if you had done nothing. 

“It seems we’ve overwhelmed the little lamb. Maybe we should let her rest.”

You give Satoru an empty glare that he does not even bother to receive, his icy blue eyes settled on his lord. A bitter and sinister feeling rears its head within you as you wish once more that you had been successful when you shoved him from that cliff. After all he has put you through, what little he could be held accountable for is to acknowledge you. But he does not look your way as he waits for Megumi to speak, so instead you turn your back on them and settle back down into the bed, pulling the covers as high up as you can without covering your head, though the urge to do so is strong. Your actions grant you their attention and despite how you felt just moments ago, as everything said settles into your mind, you suddenly want nothing more than to escape their shared gaze burning into your back as Megumi quietly agrees to retire.

Thankfully after a few more moments of silence their steps finally retreat towards the door. Neither bid you goodnight. You wonder if it even is night. It’s impossible to tell the mark of the sun so far beneath the ground, and you wonder if you’ll ever see the sun again.

The door closes behind them with a finality that you feel in your bones, but as much as you wish to let yourself fall to the relief of sleep something in you bids you to sit up and swing your legs from the bed to the floor. You can feel right away how stiff your legs are, swallowing a groan of discomfort as you rise. You move carefully towards the door, your poor legs doing their best to bear you after what feels like days of no use. As you grow closer, you realize you can still hear their voices. They seem to be conversing, rather heatedly.

You press your ear closer and listen.

“You heard her. She will never agree to such a thing. And if he discovers her, then there is little I can do.”

“Maybe you ought to consider wooing her, prince.”

“Unnecessary. I have no interest in her affection, I simply need her here.”

“And at the moment she has no interest in yours, but what human makes such a change in their lives—willingly—over mere friendship?” Megumi doesn’t answer and Satoru continues insistently. “Show her love. Make her want to stay. Make it so she cannot imagine life without you, that death is only a worse fate because she would no longer be at your side. You don’t have to mean any of it, but you must make show. It is fair strategy.”

“Do you understand how tedious of a lifetime you are asking of me? To enact such a farce? And until when? Time does not move among us so fleetingly,” Megumi demands in a sharp hiss. “And when she discovers such a theatric? What then? This is no solution.”

Satoru counters promptly. “If she doesn’t choose this, if you cannot make her choose this, then for you, my prince, time is finished altogether. I will not allow that.” His voice has taken on a manic tone that you well recognize. It chills you to the spot, forcing you to listen even when the mere memory of his magic has you aching to return to the sanctuary of your bed. Your mind turns to static as Satoru continues to insist upon his stance; if you weren’t so exhausted you know you ought to be taking his words to memory, but it is so. You want to rest. It’s only when the prince cuts his advisor off that your mind returns to you, 

Megumi’s voice becomes icy and you wonder at the prince himself that he does not cower nor balk from an entity like Satoru. “I have heard your counsel. I am done speaking of this. I will hear it no more.”

You slink back to your bed and silently pour out your misery into the pillows. Your fingers twist into them in horrified realization and your heart almost shatters as you come to realize that your mother's pelted blanket is no longer the softest thing you've ever touched. You can't help but wonder just how much this place is going to steal from you.

a/n: ch. 4 and we talked to our ML!! Are we proud of me yet?

Reblogs and kind comments incredibly appreciated <3

© All rights reserved to @ryndicate. Do not modify, translate, or repost.

[industria-adastra]

[Genshin Impact] - The answer given by god, tastes like sand - Chapter one: Act V, scene ? (take ?) - [1/8]

Summary: In multiple timelines, Furina and Neuvillette always have this conversation. And in every single timeline, Neuvillette cannot understand, and cannot accept Furina’s answers. No matter how far back she falls into the abyss of time, Neuvillette thinks that she’ll never understand. - Or: In a world where witches and magical girls exist, to circumvent fate is to create a god out of love, and be left wanting.

--

Next

Note: I genderbent neuvi for this madoka au

-----

Their first conversation, perhaps a hundred thousand turns ago—when Neuvillette had been just some gangly teenage girl, unknowing of the horrors of the world—about it, went a little like this. 

-

In the comfort of Furina’s room, on her bed, they watched a recording of an opera. Neuvillette was sure it had been Turandot. Her memories of later times were fuzzy, but this timeline had always, and would always be, one of the clearest ones. 

Their legs tangled together, and Furina was warm against her skin. Neuvillette remembered being vaguely surprised that Furina didn’t put up as much of a fuss over her often cold feet touching her much warmer ones. But she also remembered being happy and content with Furina in her arms, enough so that she didn’t question why Furina didn’t try to act out an improvised dramatic comedy about the state of Neuvillette’s poor blood circulation. 

She remembered thinking that Furina’s new spur-of-the-moment hairstyle would surely be less likely to tangle between them as it’d often done before. She remembered the smell of petrichor and the smell of lilies, fresh tea, and cakes. So, only half-focused on the singing actors, Neuvillette soon found her attention drawn to the teardrop on Furina’s fingernail. 

Absent-mindedly, she unwrapped an arm from Furina’s waist to lift that hand, staring at the ring and the blue nail print.

“Hm? What are you doing, Neuvi?” 

“Furina,” Neuvillette suddenly said, prompting her to pause the ongoing video, setting the laptop aside.

“Yes?” Two-toned blue eyes turned to look at Neuvillette. “What is it?” 

“Could I ask you a question?”

For a brief moment, something unreadable had flashed across Furina’s face. But it left as quickly as it came, and Neuvillette had dismissed it as a mere trick of the mind. (Stupid of her to do so—it should’ve been the first sign of the injustice to come; the first sign that she’d taken everything in her life for granted.)

“Of course,” she smiled, as radiant as the sun, “You don’t have to ask for permission, silly. Whatever it is, ask away!”

“Then… If I may ask, why did you decide to become a magical girl?” Neuvillette gently placed down Furina’s hand, waiting for an answer. Furina, in turn, leaned further back against Neuvillette. Tilting her head upwards, Furina’s eyes—forever mesmerising blues—stared deeply into her own. 

“Mmm…” Furina mused as the silence dragged out for what felt like an eternity in seconds. “Well, this world… It’s a wonderful, beautiful place—so of course I’d protect it. If I have the power to do so, don’t you agree that I, too, should do my part?”

It was a simple answer—casual, expected. It told Neuvillette absolutely nothing at all. She liked to think that she knew Furina. As such, the lack of eager elaboration, and the lack of clear, substantive reasoning all told Neuvillette that there was something she was missing. Something was being withheld from her, and Neuvillette did not understand why. Were all these years of friendship not enough for them to be close enough to share such personal matters? Neuvillette wasn’t just a member of the audience, one of many in the adoring crowd. 

“We both know that this isn’t your true answer, Furina,” Neuvillette said in return, deciding to be honest with her thoughts. “Let me ask once more, and give me the truth, and only the truth. For what reason did you decide to become a magical girl?” Her hands cupped Furina’s face, gaze boring down upon her.

Neuvillette watched as her eyes darted to the side.

Then, she sighed, eyes closing as she did so. “Oh alright, you’ve caught me,” Furina said, shifting Neuvillette’s hands away from her face, straightening up on the bed. “I’ll give you a proper answer in just a second.” The space between them widened as Furina turned to face her directly. Yet only a few moments later, Furina then beckoned Neuvillette to come closer with a hand. So, Neuvillette followed it with not even a moment’s hesitation. Just as their shoulders were about to touch, Furina lightly tugged on her arm, silently asking Neuvillette to lean down.

Furina’s arm curled her head, lightly pushing it down further. The smell of lilies was all the more distinct now, so close to her neck.

“It’s because you’re a part of this world,” Furina whispered into her ear, a string of words said with a gravitas that Neuvillette never understood (even in the distant tomorrow of a hollow victory). Those words warmed her heart as much as they confused her.

“...Because of me?” Neuvillette questioned. Perhaps she had wanted more confirmation, or perhaps even the truth given freely did not feel quite so complete. Furina’s skill with words had always left her floundering in more ways than one. Why her specifically? Why not mention her large family, or even the recent friends they’d made? Why only her as a reason? Imperceptibly, her cheeks warmed.

Furina giggled, all previous tension now lost. Taking advantage of her shocked stillness, in the blink of an eye Furina was now behind her. In an unexpected display of magic, she’d conjured up a comb and untied the ribbon holding together Neuvillette’s long, long hair in that same moment. Confused as she was, Neuvillette simply let her continue with whatever it was Furina wished to do with her hair.

After minutes of silent combing, Furina suddenly said, “I want you to be able to experience this world, from the delightful to the depressing…” Placing down the comb, her fingers artfully braided Neuvillette’s hair. Her hands never wavered in braiding, even as she presumably searched for the correct words to continue that unfinished line. “To the fullest extent possible, no matter what. That day… I—” Her breath hitched, and then all was silent.

The sensation of Furina’s fingers braiding her hair was a comforting one as Neuvillette waited for her to continue speaking. There wasn’t too much pressure, nor were the strands braided so tightly that they pulled on her scalp. Time trickled away in her hands like fine sand, but as Furina had always said—no use rushing the process to only fall flat at the finishing line. 

“There,” said Furina, all of a sudden. The noise jolted Neuvillette out of her previous relaxed state. She blinked, quite sure her expression looked hilarious to Furina, judging from the muffled giggle. “Want to take a look?” She asked, emphasising the question with a wave of her handheld mirror. Just now’s conversation was also clearly over. But that was alright. There was always time to ask later anyway.

“Since it was you who did it, I’m sure that it’ll be as perfect as always.” Yet with that said, Neuvillette still reached out for the mirror, curling long fingers over Furina’s hand. Well, she did need to see it with her own eyes if she wanted to properly praise Furina’s efforts.

“Ever the flatterer, hm?” Without resisting, Furina let Neuvillette move the mirror this way and that, waving it in all directions to find the perfect viewing angle. 

“I’m being honest,” said Neuvillette, admittedly more focused on her current task.

“At least let me remove my hand first,” she huffed, yet made no move to extract her hand from Neuvillette’s firm grip. At those words, Neuvillette simply hummed in response, finally having seen all she needed of her newest updo. 

“I like the braiding pattern,” she said, setting the mirror down, and Furina’s hand free. This time, she was the one to lean back on the other. Furina, of course, supported her without a fuss, letting Neuvillette’s head slide down until it hit her lap. Now comfortably nestled between a pair of soft thighs, Neuvillette picked up the tail end of the braid. Gazing at the multicoloured teardrop gem attached to the new ribbon, she asked, “When did you get this? It reminds me of your eyes.”

“Just yesterday. It reminded me of you.” 

‘I… I see.” Involuntarily, heat rose to her cheeks. There was only one thing to do in response to such a gift. “I overheard some classmates discussing this new cafe—would you like to try their desserts together sometime?”

“Of course, my dear Levia.”

-

They never did get to go to that cafe. That had been the last time they’d ever got to truly enjoy each other’s company as they were in that timeline—the one that had started it all.

[stingslikeabee]

The reaction from Mark in relation to the broken gym equipment had Melissa raising both eyebrows in surprise, followed by getting rid of the tea altogether and leaving the (almost empty) cup on the table. The actress had not meant to stir any guilt in him - not when he was already being the kindest soul she had met in a long while and putting his own neck on the line for her.

(Melissa knew that Mark would be in big, big trouble if Lumon found out that she was in his basement; although neither of them could tell for sure if the biggest corporation around had been behind her own tragic experience, at least there would be a connection in some way... And one that would not create any positive buzz for their stock price.)

"Mark - hey, look at me," one of the actress' hands reached out to his, tapping softly over the table in a wordless plea for connection (something more common than it had been in the past - anchoring the woman played a big part in trying to put together the pieces of the broken thing that Melissa had been when left under Mark's care). The girl left her palm over his, warm from holding the tea and the gesture felt nice - comforting, even.

"This is a judgement free zone, okay? You don't get to call yourself a failure when I'm hiding downstairs. What would that make me? Failed actress cowering in the shadows and freeloading off friends with actual jobs?" Melissa asked with a pointed glare - and although she believed every single word of that statement, it held no bitterness or regret. In fact, she smiled at the ending while her hand squeezed his softly for emphasis.

"All I'm saying is that there is a lot of things I find around that could be put to better use - if you want. Looks like you either won them or bought them, and it feels like a shame to leave them gathering dust. It's also... Incredibly boring when you are at work so I may have been fixating on this," a subtle blush appeared, and Melissa momentarily averted her gaze - that explained everything, in a way. If the woman wasn't quite literally a burden in his house, she wouldn't be going through all the rooms, cabinets and boxes like a discount Marie Kondo.

"You don't need to fix anything - but if you do, I promise to be your gym buddy," the brunette offered quietly, once more looking at him and reaching out with the other arm - as if they were making some sort of promise or deal right then, over fancy tea cups that helped push some of the intrusive thoughts away. Melissa had improved considerably since Devon rescued her - and without realizing it, all she wanted was to pay that kindness forward to Mark.

It's hard not to be melancholy around most people, but Melissa fulfils a kind of comfortable quality that Mark isn't used to any more around anyone but his sister. He supposes it has to do with the period in his life she'd occupied-- Melissa had been a presence when things were so much simpler-- but that doesn't make the whole thing any less jarring from a macro perspective. She makes one mention of a "gym" and Mark cringes in a way that's more playful than he's been in a long time, and it's almost like he's possessed when he jokes, "Oh, yeah-- I saw 'em 'cause I definitely still go to the gym all the time."

He doesn't, of course. The clothes that would signify that aspect of him were only remnants of the life he led before he moved to Baird Creek. But Melissa accepts this truth about his shortcomings with enough grace that Mark hardly feels any shame for it; the only time he feels bad is because he's sure he could be doing more than just housing her and offering idle conversation, not because of anything Melissa's done in particular.

After all these years, Mark finds it impossible to think Melissa's done anything wrong. Hell, it's more touching than frustrating that she's offering to help him get off his ass, even if the way he half-chokes on his tea at her mention of the elliptical might say otherwise.

"Wait," he starts, sputtering some and jamming his fist against his chest, "are you serious?

"I'm not-- look at me, Mel. This is the picture of white guy failure."

Honestly, the only good he's done in the past year since Gemma's passing is start working for Lumon. For all that he's clueless of the actual goings on, being able to work in the corporate archives division feels significant, especially for a company so influential in the founding and history of his home state. And all pretentious reasoning aside, it's been paying the bills (quite literally, in terms of the subsidised housing) way better than his teaching job ever did.

"I mean, I'll fix the elliptical for you no problem, but I..."

You what, Mark? Have no time to exercise because you're too busy drinking your brain to oblivion? Come on, man.

He sighs, rubbing lightly at the side of his neck. "...I probably need to shape up, huh?"

[magicjesuscup]

Yu-Gi-Oh thought

I'm in a Yu-Gi-Oh mood for some reason and just watched a really neat video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mArpqqJi58A) that argues that Thief King Bakura might not have been been Egyptian.

It's super cool and I love the theory, but I'm wondering if maybe there's another reason why he looks so different and has a name that isn't Egyptian. Although, I am taking a few liberties here. I'm counting being trapped in jewelry for 3,000 years as something of an afterlife since his physical body is definitely dead.

According to Egyptian mythology: "The name was regarded as an essential part of an individual, as necessary for the survival of the deceased in the After-life as the ba, akh, and the preserved corpse. The name of an individual was preserved by its inclusion in funerary texts, either on papyrus or on the tomb walls. Should they wish to do so, later generations could destroy the existence and memory of a deceased individual by removing their name from their tomb." (https://factsanddetails.com/world/cat56/sub403/item1949.html)

Bakura probably wouldn't have had any kind of funeral rites done. He didn't have any family to have taken care of that. He may not have thought ahead to do it himself if he thought he was going to win his fight with Atem. And nobody around him would've wanted him to have access to the afterlife; they probably just dumped his body somewhere to rot.

There's also this moment in the anime:

During mumification, "They left only the heart in place, believing it to be the center of a person's being and intelligence." (https://www.si.edu/spotlight/ancient-egypt/mummies#:~:text=They%20left%20only%20the%20heart,jars%20today%20called%20canopic%20jars.)

Since Bakrua's heart and name weren't preserved, it makes sense (in my head) that his soul wouldn't remember what his name was or what he looked like. So what he does is take on the name and appearance of his host.

It's been a while since I've seen/read the series, but if I remember correctly, the last season doesn't actually take place in ancient Egypt. It takes place on an rpg board created by Ryou under the direction of Bakura.

What's on the board is going to be what information Bakura and Zorc have. All the major players aside himself were high ranking individuals and most likely given good enough burials that would've granted them access to the afterlife. (Which is supported by Atem seeing all these people after Yugi beats him in the final dual of the series, but not Bakura.) So Bakura would've had information on them, but nothing about himself.

Nothing except things that Zorc remembered. Which is liberty number two. Zorc may have only remembered things to keep this fight going like Bakura's motivation, the fact that he lost/didn't get his revenge the first time he and Atem faced off, and what happened in their last fight (so he could learn from it and maybe win this time).

TLDR:

Video theory: Bakura's non Egyptian appearance and name are due to him not being Egyptian.

My crazed ramblings: Bakura's name and appearance were borrowed from his host because he doesn't remember either of those things due to not being given the necessary funeral rites.

[villainous-osha-official]

As the holidays approach, we here at C.R.I.M.E would like to remind you that while not technically required in either C.R.I.M.E guidelines or the Goonion Charter, holiday parties are highly encouraged to boost morale. Some recommendations for holiday parties include: Make sure that a diverse selection of treats are available and account for any known dietary requirements—Mad Chemists Anonymous has recently published a helpful holiday cookbook. Provide optional entertainment as well as, if necessary, childcare. Take this as an opportunity to learn about other cultures. Use the opportunity of the annual company bake sale to finally exact your revenge upon that hussy, Becky—her lemon bars last year weren't even that good.

For heists, hold-ups, and various acts of villany in colder climates, some additional precautions should be taken to ensure the safety of you and your henchpeople. For guidelines on this, please consult Section V-35, paragraphs 19 through 38.

Condolences are extended to the families of the victims of this year's Defrosting Incident. Generally, there are few to no casualties when [REDACTED] is released from [REDACTED] [REDACTED][REDACTED] to wreak havoc on the Heroes, burn The [REDACTED] into the minds of millions, and distract Heroes from our collective schemes. However, due to some unforeseen events involving some Heroes this year's release was particularly violent. Please refer to section V-21 if this occurred to one or more of your henchpeople. Condolences are once again offered to the families of the affected, and all proceeds of the C.R.I.M.E Annual Holiday Bake Sale not already allotted to various Goonion-run charities and shelters, will go to the Fridged Henchpeople's Memorial Fund.

IMPORTANT:

Per C.R.I.M.E guidelines, as well as the Goonion Charter, henchpeople are to be granted holiday leave upon request.

We may be criminals, but that does not mean we cannot do crime safely.

Crimen Bene Factum—Do Crime Well.

[stingslikeabee]

available verses (public and private)

This is a masterlist of available verses for Melissa, public & private. This post will be updated as new verses are included and other verses are retired; please note that private verses are exclusive for the writing partners mentioned below while public are available for anyone (also available under the verses page and the google docs for mobile users).

Retired verses (public or private) are listed for archiving purposes and are not available.

Active general verses:

v: FFVII v: FFXII v: FFXV v: FFXVI v: the Evil Queen v: Yakuza v: Killer Queen v: House of Flowers v: Path to Nowhere v: the Continental

Active exclusive verses:

- exclusive with @dojimakaichou: v: Yakuza ; dragon king AU v: Yakuza ; detective AU v: Yakuza ; Addams Family AU v: Yakuza ; medieval AU v: Yakuza ; vampire AU v: Yakuza ; merfolk AU v: Yakuza ; first lady of the Tojo AU v: Yakuza ; space federation AU v: Yakuza ; wild west AU v: Yakuza ; American dream AU v: Yakuza ; werewolf AU v: Yakuza ; serpent curse AU v: Yakuza ; demoness AU

- exclusive with @kansaisdragon: v: Yakuza ; bodyguard AU

- exclusive with @healthkits: v: Americana

- exclusive with @sierra6x: v: Blood Moon Rising

- exclusive with @strongfuck: v: Atlas and the Sun v: the pool of Mnemosyne

- exclusive with @withthedoubleg: v: the Eyes of the Dragon

- exclusive with @hisroyalmagnificence: v: wish you were mine

- exclusive with @finalslay: v: tale as old as time

- exclusive with @hyperionhero: v: daughter of Calliope

- exclusive with @saishuu-heiki: v: mother of calamity

- exclusive with @antielevator: v: there are more things in heaven and earth than we dreamed of

- exclusive with @sweariff: v: clap your hands if you believe

- exclusive with @lncarnon: v: a golden cat in a black night v: on the sidelines of history

- exclusive with @backwaterscum: v: mending these broken wings

- exclusive with @il-mostrc: v: there's no caging a bird of prey

- exclusive with @divinejudge: v: FFVII ; Siren AU

- exclusive with @bloodypuzzle: v: speak not of retribution but of a reawakening v: war makes fools of us all (but so does love) v: a thousand years of longing

- exclusive with @macrodatum: v: no memories should be taken for granted

- exclusive with @poeticphoenix: v: arts of destruction

Retired general verses:

v: Alice in Borderland v: Kingdoms of Gaia v: Jazz Age

Exclusive retired verses:

v: Once Upon a Time v: Sucker Punch v: FFVII ; secretary AU v: FFVII ; wolfsbane AU v: Nightingale

[exaltatuss]

V;Ashen Incognito | HSR

-General Info

A Vacosian who claims to be a 'simple travelling dragon' who oftentimes cross paths with the Astral Express crew every now and then, even sometimes hitching a ride with them on certain occasions and also helping them around if the opportunity should arise. At first, she was mistaken for being part of the Vidyadhara race, or part of Long's Scions due to her draconic nature, but it was obvious that she isn't part of neither.

She's mostly secretive about her affiliations and connections, yet also have a firm grasp on how some leadership systems work. Furthermore, she seem to have clear, concise, and sharp memory, able to recount certain tales that happened long ago.

While she does say that one of her reasons for travelling is to sample local cuisines of different worlds, there is more than meets the eye on what she truly is after.

And while she doesn't really have any issue on divulging any information regarding to herself, she openly prefers to keep her cards close. Something about gradually revealing them one by one in the right time.

-Kit

Osiria's Element is Fire, while her Path is a unique one, that being Voracity. She is a mix between a damage dealer and a tank, as each damage she deals towards her opponent heals her for a certain amount, marking recent targets with Appetite. Targets that have the Appetite status receive increased damage from Osiria's attacks. Killing targets with Appetite further heals her, and also giving her a boost in her damage.

Her skill is called Unsatiable, in which she would rend at her target with her claws, dealing damage proportional to how hurt the target is. Additionally, if the target has Appetite, the status will be consumed, further increasing Unsatiable's damage, as well as healing Osiria, too.

Osiria uses a God Key called Longinus, and a powerful blade comparable to it called Dainsleif. Her Ultimate is called The Grand Devouring, in which Osiria would deal massive amounts of damage on a single target, as well as healing greatly from the amount. Any excess healing turns into a shield that persists for three turns.

Killing a target with The Grand Devouring that has the Appetite status would also grant a Burst Mode simply called Devourer. In this state, Osiria's attacks and skills are further improved, Unsatiable becoming an aoe skill, for example, and her likeliness to land crits are increased. The Devourer status lasts for three turns.

Osiria's personal Light Cone is called To Accept Oneself. Which increases her energy regeneration rate whenever she kills an enemy afflicted with Appetite. Furthermore, her outgoing healing, hp and crit damage is raised by a % of her total attack stat.

Osiria's Talent allows for her to immediately follow up an attack after another character, or herself, deals a Weakness Break to one enemy, or bring their health down to a critical state, prioritizing the enemy with the least amount of health.

All in all, Osiria's kit centers around self-sustainability, and damage dealing that can snowball throughout the course of the battle.

-Trivia

-Osiria in this verse is still the Demiurge and Ashen King. However, she had decided to take a break from her duties and entrusted it to someone trustworthy as she decided to travel around, even restricting herself from using her more powerful abilities, unless absolutely necessary, simply gauging what level of power is just about enough on facing external threats, as well as relying on the combat techniques she had developed, the Nine Forms Of The Dragon.

-The true reason for her deciding to travel around is due to a Stellaron Burst incident that occured in the Ashen Empire. Such incident was too big for her to turn a blind eye to, and such, made her also want to personally investigate the matter. She was able to resolve the incident by simply banishing the Stellaron somewhere else before it had taken root in the Ashen Empire, however.

-This is the same Osiria as of the main verse. From backstory, development, etc. Her main reason of being in the HSR verse was both curiosity, relaxation, as well as getting to the bottom of how a Stellaron ended up in her jurisdiction that one time. She is also partly curious if it is possible to devour a Stellaron, and what would it entail for her if she did.

-While her status as an immortal should have had her banned from entering the territories of the Xianzhou Alliance, she can loophole that via her ability to change her appearance.

Such appearance change allows her to simply pass off as a member of the Vidyadhara race, going by the name of 'Yan Sui'.

She also has her Empire's Ambassador, Arsenia tag along with her, acting as a Foxian who goes by the name of 'Daji'.

However, her appearance changes will only be used in specific situations, like her having to enter Alliance jurisdictions, for example.

-Oftentimes, she also engages in a wide array of interactions with Ruby @ancientforged , considering Ruby became a member of the Astral Express Crew this time around. Sometimes it ends up into some back and forth shade, sometimes both are in deep talk. When asked about her relation with Ruby, Osiria simply says that they know each other. While she does this as another way of 'keeping her cards close', she wouldn't really mind if Ruby would divulge to the rest of the crew that her relation with her is a father-daughter one.

[stingslikeabee]

The words that Mark shared with her sounded a bit like every Lumon document detailing the severance procedure available to the general public (including hopeful recruits) - the type of thing that the actress had no reason to ever look up before given her lifestyle and professional choices. Melissa had been ambitious, of course - daring even, willing to play dirty to unlock the doors that were so stubbornly shut in a world with so many other pretty faces with equally big dreams.

But when it all pointed towards people going to even greater extremes than she had, it had all... Disappeared. Mark's personal statement of how the severance felt to him made the brunette look down, struggling to reconcile her experience with the things he had kindly added to the conversation. Was it just in her head, then? Making it worse and further muddling the waters for no reason?

The touch over her hand would have startled Melissa if he hadn't spoken up first - his voice broke the spell of the dangerous, panicked thoughts that were threatening to take control, bringing her back to the present. Blinking, the woman looked at Mark for a moment, eyelashes dragging the moisture from unshed tears away and making some of them ultimately fall down her face.

The way Mark spoke about life made sense; the brunette nodded along his account of the events, as if convincing herself of the tangibility of everything. However, the last part - the self-deprecating joke that came out of nowhere given the heavy tone of their conversation - surprised Melissa enough for a wide stare to follow, looking at the man as if a pair of horns had sprouted from the top of his head...

...And then chuckling, shaking her head next. Inhaling deeply but still with a shaky edge to it, Melissa's left hand finally uncurled from the seat, restoring normal blood flow while she flexed the digits reflexively. The brunette flashed Mark another smile while dark tresses were fixed and clothes smoothed, almost as if doing these menial gestures bought her some time before speaking up. Melissa's right hand, however, turned upside in his grip and clasped his.

"I think that is exactly what an hallucination would say to convince me otherwise," the girl said, but it was evidently a joke given the squeeze to the hand she was holding and the extra exhale; Melissa did a couple more of these, following ancient breathing exercises that she had learned as a younger person to control stage fright (before realizing that being in front of a crowd was the best thing ever).

"You're right, of course. It's just that... I don't know. There is this chunk of myself that has been carved out and I don't remember anything about it, but at the same time I can't forget it happened because I'm here. It all feels so... Fucking surreal," the woman let the words out without a trace of politeness, then finally moved - Melissa left her position to actually take the chair, led to it by Mark as if he was a gentleman from eras past easing a lady into her seat, and then folded both hands over the lap.

"Do you think that the... Severed me is stuck somewhere? Just living through that?" the woman queried instead of eating, but then frowned as if something occurred to her, "No, that's not possible because I didn't go back. As long as I never go physically inside the building where they did it to me... I won't be stuck in a life that is not my own, right?"

"Being severed isn't like getting drunk," Mark starts, but as the words come out, it occurs to him he isn't certain he has any definitive proof of that. He knows of his own experiences-- knows that the world, for the most part, feels the same way it always has-- but the version of him in Lumon's basement might be experiencing something else entirely.

He wets his lips. The plates are set atop their placemats, but he doesn't move to sit with Melissa's stance so tightly coiled behind her seat.

"Look, after the procedure all I noticed was I had days worth sixteen hours instead of twenty-four. I get up in the morning, I go to work, and then" -- his fingers snap -- "eight hours're gone."

(A precious experience resurfaces: Mark had come out of the elevator once with bruised knuckles and a throat gone hoarse. The skin around his eyes felt raw like they always did after he cried, and dried blood seemed to have collected in the corner of his thumbnail. To say he was stiff was an understatement.

You pulled an all-nighter to finish assisting with the anniversary installations in the Perpetuity Wing, the card on his windshield read that day. Unfortunately, the part-time workers hired for the event didn't listen to you. We apologise for the strain on your throat the shouting may have caused.)

"But it's not like someone's pulled a curtain over my world or anything. I'm still me, and the sky still looks like the sky, and these chairs're still made of wood."

Gaze landing on Melissa's curled fists, Mark reaches out. A gentle "may I" precedes his touch, which isn't much more than laying atop the back of her hand to free it from a grip tight enough to crack his chair.

"This is real," Mark murmurs. Melissa's hand, even in her distress, feels like flesh and blood and life, even as fear seems to swallow her whole. "I'm real. And you should have enough memories to trace the way you got here.

"You met my sister and stayed with her. Then she called me a couple days later. I came to pick you up." His head cocks in what might be a futile attempt to catch Melissa's gaze. "And, come on-- the last time you saw me was ages ago.

"I don't think you'd hallucinate a middle-aged wash-up who looks weirdly like your college best friend's big brother, not with all the people you've met since."

[bubblin-through-time]

Something that stuck with me at work today.

I had a co-worker ask me "what defines me as a person or a human?"

At the time I really couldn't answer the question and has had me pondering about it for the remainder of working my shift at disney. It's a question you would think would be a off the fly answer but at that moment I couldn't think of it till now. It's quite humourous how that works.

At the core I am a gamer, father of a 14 year old daughter this point who I am very proud of especially being a theater nerd and gamer. She shokes me in so many ways but enough side tracking, quiet yet can be the life of the party once trust is there, and music enthusiast.

But at the end of the day that's what I share with the public(most social media and in face) but not everyone gets to know the poet that used to write all the time because of my love for Robert frost and Edgar Allen Poe. The guys who has a passion for painting miniatures of D&D ,Warhammer 40k and car models. Then adventurous type who wants to travel to unknown locations I have never heard of and learning the history. Speaking of history, I love learning about the mythos based around our planet like Zeus, Ra and Odin throughout our mythology and lifetime. Very big on American history and the French revolution. The one who is passionate about Mopar, trucks and my love for cars in general and going to car shows. The little kid who still loves chasing the ice cream trucks down whenever there is one now a days just to have a core memory. This question has a lot to it and it really has me deep in thought about the past, present mainly and the future. I have done a lot of dumb shit over the years that at the time I would have regretted but I see them has growing points now given my therapy sessions with my therapist and finding out what I have been coping with all these years. The abuse from bullying, the constantly moving from house to house in Florida because of things that I am still finding out to this day from my parents. I was always trying just to fit in and never be myself cause I never knew how to open up fully. Granted, to this day the only ones that fully know the real me is Josh, Sean, kaleb, V(baby momma) , and Natalie current ex girlfriend. It's something I have never fully opened up about because I am always hiding as a blocking mechanism to not get hurt.

Growing up i used gaming to cope with being made fun of , being caught in dumb lies just fit in , betrayed real friends when I should have just listened( granted I am working on some of those old friendships now ) , and just not giving a shit because of the three bullies I had through out my school school life. I have always said bits and pieces of this story but not in its entirety. I would point out middle school was the roughest for me and our of those days I don't remember much cause how much I blank it out. Even now I have made some dumbass choices that's led to me losing the best women I have ever met in my life ( wife material ). That was a blow I have grown from and hope one days we can rekindle the flame. I have always considered you my country rocker girl kinda like jenny from forest gump. I can't force you to forgive me for the dumb shit that I have done but at the end of the day I just want you happy along with Zoey and it has taken me some time to accept that as much as I would love for us to start over and try again at the end of the day I am just glad to have met you years ago and spend the 2.3 years that we did date as a couple granted the last couple months were rocky and understandable now given the time I have had to process everything. I would give anything to take things slow and at least give us one for shot for the kids us hanging out these last 3 times over the years was some times I cherish most just knowing you were okay and happy but like I had mentioned it's been a bit to realize that and that I do apologize for. Also Zoey I do apologize for any thing that you seen during the dark few months and I hope you can forgive me munchkin 2. Scarlet still calls you munchkin two and her 1. She says she misses her little sister. There are so many things I wanna say but they have to be In person now that I know what I wanna say.

Sorry, for this long rant but it's part of this growth process I am going through and it's been a journey for sure. Between the few posts you should get the gist of everything going on in my head now it's just time to focus on getting a car, saving up for a new house eventually( would love to have my own farm, land and be able to just enjoy life) , going on a road trip to a beach or another state,get my passport to visit my daughter next year around August - September time frame in the UK and just enjoy the time I have with my family, friends and loved ones. We have only so much time with life and most of us just sit in laptops, computers and phones and forget to be in the moment. I would love to go out on dates and do little pinches at the lake don't know why that popped in this but thought I would share. Plus my end goal is getting married and just owning everything I stated before. That's the focus now.

Well, that's was a lot but glad it's off my chest now

[rebellenlied]

* / character profile: lenore lee.

full name: eleanor virginia lee

age: ~17-19 in appearance

species: gemischt quincy

affiliation: fleur la vie troupe (formerly, blows a kiss to edon), wandereich (reluctantly, tybw arc only)

epithet: v - the voice

contains shared lore with: whoever's affiliated with the fleur la vie troupe tbh

known family: annabel lee (mother, estranged; alive), unnamed father (deceased)

she never remembered her life with her mother or father. only with people she was never related to by blood, particularly one missus florence wheth, the ringleader of the fleur la vie troupe. as lenore grew up with the troupe, she learned how to be self-sufficient - learning domestic tasks should anything happen to anybody within the troupe. and as lenore was surrounded by song and dance, granted the troupe was full of traveling performers, she learned to take inspiration from the world around her and put it into songs and poems she herself would perform while on the road.

there was one particular song she sung with her guitar about the vanishing quincy, how they may have disappeared physically, but their memory and existence lingered in the wind and trees around them all. and for the longest time, that song she had written was her best work to date.

lenore was one of the few quincies that survived the massacre of the troupe by florence's direction. the latter told her and several others to run, and run as far and fast as their legs could carry them. some were taken away, the remainder was senselessly slaughtered despite florence's attempts to protect the ones that remained. she never wrote any more songs after that - at least until yhwach would wage war on the soul society.

[daimonclub]

Memorial Day

Memorial Day Monument Memorial Day, legal holiday observed annually on the last Monday in May in the United States, in honor of the nation’s armed services personnel killed in wartime. Happy Memorial Day! Thank you to all our service men and women past and present. You are not forgotten! We’d like to say thank you to all the veterans of the United States of America. Thank you for the cost you paid so we could live in freedom and safety. Thank you that we have the freedom to pursue happiness, we have freedom of speech, we have all the freedoms other people only dream of. And sorry that some of us take these freedoms for granted. Memorial Day is about freedom given to us by the sacrifice of generations of soldiers. Wish a happy Memorial Day using some of these Memorial Day quotes. Send a message, or just say them personally. While only one day of the year is dedicated solely to honoring our veterans, Americans must never forget the sacrifices that many of our fellow countrymen have made to defend our country and protect our freedoms. This Memorial Day should remind us of the greatness that past generations of Americans achieved from Valley Forge to Vietnam, and it should inspire us with the determination to keep America great and free by keeping America safe and strong in our own time, a time of unique destiny and opportunity for our Nation.

Memorial Day Freedom does not come without a price. We may sometimes take for granted the many liberties we enjoy in America, but they have all been earned through the ultimate sacrifice paid by so many of the members of our armed forces. In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends. Peace is the real and right memorial for those who have died in war. I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country. As long as our nation is the home of the brave, it remains the land of the free. Happy Memorial Day! Memorial Day, legal holiday observed annually on the last Monday in May in the United States, in honor of the nation’s armed services personnel killed in wartime. The holiday was originally called Decoration Day because it is a time for decorating graves with flowers and flags. Over time, the designation Memorial Day became far more common. In the United States, local observances to honor the war dead became widespread following the American Civil War (1861-1865), which had taken more than 600,000 lives. These local observances inspired General John Alexander Logan, the leader of a Union veterans’ group called the Grand Army of the Republic (GAR), to issue a general’s order in 1868 designating May 30 as a day for “strewing with flowers, or otherwise decorating the graves of comrades who died in defense of their country during the late rebellion, and whose bodies now lie in almost every city, village, and hamlet churchyard in the land.” (By “the late rebellion,” Logan meant the Civil War, also known as the War of Rebellion.)

Memorial Day Article Accordingly, on May 30, 1868, several thousand people gathered to observe Decoration Day at Arlington National Cemetery, in Arlington, Virginia, across the Potomac River from Washington, D.C. The memorial ceremonies were presided over by Washington officials such as General Ulysses Grant and included a tribute by General James A. Garfield. Following the speeches, thousands of war veterans, orphans, and other participants helped decorate the more than 20,000 graves of Civil War dead in the cemetery. A number of towns in the United States claim to have originated the custom of decorating graves in memorial of the Civil War dead, including Columbus, Mississippi; Macon, Georgia; Richmond, Virginia; Boalsburg, Pennsylvania; and Carbondale, Illinois. However, in 1966 President Lyndon B. Johnson signed a proclamation that declared Waterloo, New York, the birthplace of Memorial Day. Townspeople there had begun decorating graves of soldiers, flying flags at half-mast, and organizing parades of veterans 100 years earlier, in May 1866. Waterloo has continued this tradition every year. In 1873 New York became the first state to declare a holiday on May 30. By the end of the 1800s, states throughout the nation had declared Memorial Day a holiday. After World War I (1914-1918), Memorial Day observances were changed to honor the dead in all American wars, starting with the American Revolution. The U.S. Congress declared Memorial Day a national holiday in 1971, and changed the date of observance from May 30 to the last Monday in May to give workers a three-day weekend. Memorial Day is marked by parades, speeches, and the decoration of graves. Traditionally, the president or vice president places a wreath on the Tomb of the Unknowns in Arlington National Cemetery, and small flags are placed on all the graves. Ceremonies also are held at Gettysburg National Military Park in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, and at Antietam National Battlefield in Sharpsburg, Maryland. Many people choose to visit family graves on Memorial Day.

Memorial Day Monument Many Southern states continue to honor the Confederate dead on a separate day. Confederate Memorial Day is observed on the fourth Monday in April in Alabama, the last Monday in April in Mississippi, April 26 in Georgia, May 10 in North Carolina and South Carolina, the last Monday in May in Virginia, and June 3 in Louisiana. Texas observes Confederate Heroes Day on January 19, the birthday of Confederate general Robert E. Lee. Tennessee observes Confederate Decoration Day on June 3, the birthday of Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederacy (see Confederate States of America). The Memorial Day weekend marks the beginning of summer activities, such as picnics and trips to the beach. A well-known automobile race, the Indianapolis 500, is held in Indiana every year on Memorial Day weekend. The weather is usually warm and sunny on the last Monday in May. Schools and offices are closed. Families and friends get together for picnics and baseball games. Beaches open for the summer season. Stores hold big sales. There are concerts and evening fireworks in parks. That is the fun side of the American national holiday Memorial Day. But Americans celebrate the holiday in very different ways. There is another, serious side which has more to do with how it all began: with giving thanks to soldiers who died in wars. Some towns organise parades in which war veterans, boy and girl scouts, and school bands in uniforms march to the inspiring sounds of trumpets, flutes, and drums.

Memorial Day History Patriotic citizens, especially, and those involved with the military, visit national cemeteries, where each soldier's grave. As we said before the tradition of Memorial Day began shortly after the American Civil War (1861-1865). That bloody conflict ended in victory for the Northern, 'Union' states against eleven Southern, 'Confederate' states which had tried to break away from the USA and form a separate country. A major result was that slavery, the basis for the agricultural economy of the Southern states, was abolished. In 1865, former American slaves in South Carolina created a ceremony to honour Union soldiers who had died in the war. Starting in 1868, Memorial Day was observed annually on May 30th in many parts of the US. After the First World War, Americans began to honour their countrymen who had died in all wars. In 1971, it was decided that Memorial Day should be celebrated nationwide on the last Monday in May, whatever the date, creating a three-day Memorial Day Weekend. Today many people say that change made it possible for people to have a mini-vacation. They think the government should restore the single-day holiday on May 30th. In that way, citizens wouldn't only amuse themselves and forget the soldiers who died to defend freedoms that are central to the American way of life. The vast majority of Americans agree that Memorial Day should be a time to give thanks to all men and women who died in military service. Yet many citizens, especially pacifists, now criticise what they see as the blind patriotism of some people on Memorial Day. They think that Memorial Day parades and ceremonies should not be used as propaganda for US participation in controversial wars across the world, such as in Iraq and in Afghanistan. For almost 70 years, no Memorial Day parade was held in Washington DC. It is interesting that the tradition of the parade in the US capital was revived in 2005, during the presidency of the unpopular, self-declared "war president", George W Bush.

Memorial Day USA They say that summer in the United States begins at the end of May with Memorial Day Weekend. The whole country takes a holiday on Monday and enjoys a long weekend. But what exactly is Memorial Day? It is in honour of all the veterans who died serving their country and, in the current political climate, some people find the military nature of the holiday offensive. Edwin Rutledge served in the US Navy from 1958 to 1961, but today he is a pacifist and lives in Germany, where he runs" the Munich American Peace Committee. In his own opinion there are certain societies in the States that are susceptible to the military aspect. For example, the Indians are very conscious - it's strange, they've been treated not very well in the States - but they're very proud to have served in the service. Other people have a little bit of difficulty with the idea of war, so they don't particularly like to think that way. There are certain populations in the US, for example the Oriental population, mainly the Japanese population, that has trouble celebrating Memorial Day, after some of the problems that they faced being put into camps during the Second World War. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HsQ3E5pGWwQ Here are the major U.S. holidays. In some cases, businesses, government offices, and schools will be closed, and also the International Days list. New Year’s Eve/New Year’s Day MLK Jr. Day President’s Day Valentine’s Day St. Patrick’s Day Easter/Spring Break Mother’s Day Memorial Day Father’s Day 4th of July Labor Day Halloween Thanksgiving Christmas Eve Christmas Day International Days List Read the full article