#when he witnessed his sister get murdered right in front of him

[rouge-the-bat]

"shadows a teen! haha, teen angst edgelord" shadow was literally drinking at a bar with rouge in sonic x

[xneens]

mine, mine, mine

rafe tries to steal you back after you befriend the pogues.

You were his friend first, before those Pogues stole you from him, even before Sarah met you in that sandbox at five years old. He had laid eyes on you first and had been the one to help you when you scraped your elbow on the concrete, giving you a bandaid for it. He was the one you hugged and thanked before skipping away.

You used to party with him, used to spend Sundays at Tanneyhill, used to comfort him after a fight with Ward, used to sleep in his arms on his bed almost every night. Now, he'd be lucky to get a single text back or catch a glimpse of you in public. After you followed his sister into the group of Pogues, you spent a total of two nights in his arms, the last time more than a week ago. Whenever he checks your location, he can't help but get irritated when he sees you at any of the Pogue's places.

When Wheezie tells him she saw you with JJ Maybanks, he breaks, leaving his sister in an empty house, scouting your location as he gets on his bike. He's on your trail as you sprint towards where his sister and John B. faces off his father, running right into Sarah's arms.

He witnesses Sheriff Peterkins arrest his dad, watching John B pull you behind him. He can't take it anymore, even now that John B keeps you from watching the man you once respected get handcuffed.

Everything happens at once. He blinks and Peterkins lays on the ground in a pool of her own blood. His blue eyes meet yours, shock and fear swimming in yours as you stare back at him. A part of him breaks because never in his life have you stared at him with such fright. Not that he could blame you, he'd never shot anyone before. But he could blame John B.

He aims the gun at the Pogue and his blood boils with anger as you put yourself in front of him. The gun drops from his hand immediately, tears welling up in his eyes. He lost you.

He's pulling you to his truck, forcing you to sit in the passenger seat as his sister yells, crying her eyes out. His words are rushed as he tries to comfort you, avoiding your gaze, not wanting to look into your eyes and see how much you fear him.

He drives you to Tanneyhill, locking you in his room. Rafe tries to comfort you, letting you cry it out and shout at him. He allows you to throw a book at him, taking it all in because he'd rather you hate him for a moment than the rest of your life. Hatred for the Pogues builds when you don't let him touch you, pulling away from his attempts to hug you, to take you into his arms. The same hands that used to caress your face in your sleep now were the ones that murdered someone.

You slip his grip when he leaves the room briefly, running back to John B's and meeting with the rest of the crew. Rafe tweaks out even more after finding out you've turned off your location, throwing his phone on the ground.

He's at the tent when Shoupe tells you and your group of friends that Sarah and John B are presumed dead. Ward has to pull him away when you seek out comfort in JJ's arms instead of his.

After his trip to the Bahamas, he tries to reconcile with you, climbing up to your balcony on the verge of a panic attack. You lock your balcony doors, shutting the curtains and blocking out his pleas. That night, he tries to shoot up the Chateau, not aware you were hiding in the trees with JJ.

After John B's arrested and thrown in jail awaiting sentencing, you show up to his house. He's unaware of the phone in your back pocket, recording everything he's saying. He doesn't care that you're angry with him because, for the first time in months, you're willing to hear him out, willing to let him hold your hands and hold your face in his hands.

"You shot her, Rafe!" you yell out, not caring if Rose or Ward heard. "You killed someone."

Rafe whispers out your name, hands shaking as he holds your face in his hands. "You know I would never hurt you, right? I care about you. I love you. I love you more than those Pogues ever could."

Shaking your head, you pull his hands away from your face, pacing around his room. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. "That's not what I'm trying to—"

"But I need you to know that!" Rafe shouts, tapping his fingers against his temples. He walks towards you, panting. "They don't care about you like I do! They put you in constant danger. I never would do that to you. They can't take care of you like I have. You know that. Deep down you know that."

"Rafe." you try to interrupt. This was so not how this was supposed to go.

He takes your face between his hands again, a little too roughly. His lips were barely a foot away. "You were mine first. You still are. No matter what you call yourself, you always will be mine. I'll take care of you. I fucking love you."

Even as you run away from him, hope grows in his heart. Delusion or maybe he knew you better than you knew yourself, but he knew you still cared for him. Even after he killed Peterkins. Or so that's what he tells himself when he's sitting in a holding cell.

After his father's death, he tries even harder to convince you he is still the same Rafe you grew up with. After stealing the cross from Carla Limbrey, he shows up at your place under the pretense of giving it back to Pope. In the midst of your surprise, you hadn't thought to be suspicious about the tea he gave you. As soon as you felt dizzy, you pointed your finger at him. He apologizes, carrying you in his arms to the truck.

When you wake, he's there on the bed, holding your hand. He can't help but find it hot when you slap him across the face, leaving a red mark on his cheek. Rafe holds you down as you scream profanities at him, trying to break free of his grip, doing anything to get away from his presence.

He locks you in the room, promising to make everything better, professing his love for you over and over before leaving to deal with business. The next time he sees you, you're stopping him from bashing John B's skull in. The red light flickers against your face and for the second time, you stopped him from killing John B.

Rafe races after you, begging you to stay with him, his grip on your wrist leaving a bruise. "Stay with me. Please.”

He sees the slight hesitation, even if it's less than a second. His hand on your wrist loosens and you take off running, jumping off the ship and onto the little lifeboat driven by your Pogue friends. The cross drops into the ocean and he manages to save it last minute.

He raises a gun towards the stalled boat, aiming at his sister, the one who was responsible for bringing you with her as she befriended the Pogues. His finger twitches as he goes to pull the trigger, only to freeze when you stand up, blocking Sarah from his view.

You look back at the large ship, noticing Rafe with a gun in his hands. And for the second time, he drops the gun, staring as the lifeboat propels you out of his eyesight.

After a month, he sees you wearing a red dress in Carlos Singh's mansion. Both of you get locked up and you allow him to comfort you after seeing the man you rescued getting executed.

Swallowing his pride, he apologizes again, this time, you listen, because, after all, he's the only one that can help you. He apologizes for everything he's done, getting on his knees, eyes pleasing you to forgive him. When you don't say anything in return, his arms circle your waist, pressing his cheek to your torso.

Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. "Please. You're the only thing in this world I care about."

Working together, you both get out of Singh's property, catching a ride on the back of a truck. You looked away as Rafe threw a man off the truck, unable to watch your former best friend hurt another person.

As you both sail off on his boat, gunshots are heard across the dock as Singh's men try to stop you. Rafe has you steer the wheel, placing himself behind you, protecting you from any bullets that come close to hitting you. A bullet grazes his arm, red staining his white button-up.

You steer the boat into the ocean, texting your friends where to meet you before grabbing a kit and tending to Rafe's wound.

He watches as you clean his wound, eyes following your every movement. "Just like old times, huh? When you used to patch me up after a fight."

You scoff, unable to fight the small smile that danced on your lips. "Some things just don't change."

"I haven't seen you smile in so long." the words escape Rafe's lips before he can stop them, immediately regretting them when you stop smiling. He looks down, sighing. "Sorry."

You stay silent, patching him up. After putting on a bandage on his cut, you stand up, making your way back to the wheel.

Rafe stands, walking towards you slowly. He runs a hand down his face, frowning as you dock. "Is there any chance you'll forgive me?"

"I ... I don't think you're past unredeemable," you whisper, avoiding his gaze.

The Pogues board the boat, and you can't stop JJ from landing a right hook on Rafe's jaw. He puts distance between him and your friends, watching you play the mediator, defending him, even if it was half-ass. Rafe can't help but smirk slightly at JJ's disgruntled expression because despite what he's done, you've chosen him over them.

Though, when you return back to Kildare, Rafe's met with the version of you he's known for the past summer. You've chosen your pathetic group of friends, leaving his side the second the boat touched Kildare soil.

He tries to be better, tries to win you back. But when you leave his calls unanswered and texts unread, he goes crazy, seeking Barry's help to steal the cross from his own father. Before melting the cross, he calls you one more time, in hopes you'd stop him from making another mistake you'd have to forgive him for. He reaches your voicemail for the hundredth time.

The gold is sold off to his father's business partners and investors, the number in his bank account increasing with each passing day. He tells himself the more money he makes, the more he'll be able to provide for you and your future family, and the more he can spoil you with. Because if he can't have you, then no one can.

You show up at his door injured, shot in the stomach by one of Singh's men. Blood ran down your legs, staining your clothes. Rafe catches you as you collapse, pulling out his phone to call 911 only for you to stop him.

Anxious, he carefully carries you to his bed, helping you take off your top to examine the wound. He swallows, a part of him awakening at the sight of you wearing the bra he claimed as his favorite. Even as you bleed out, you still manage to look sexy.

He slows down the bleeding, cleansing the wound with a bottle of vodka, and muttering apologies as you swore at him for the pain. Stitching up the wound, he watches as your breathing slows down, your grip on his arm loosening. Fearing you'd die in your sleep, he keeps you awake by asking trivia questions, your annoyance groaning with every question.

Your eyes follow him as he gets on the bed with you, smoothly wrapping an arm around you and ignoring your judgment. The half-empty bottle of vodka rests in between the two of you; more often than not you take a sip from it, dulling the pain.

Rafe allows you to close your eyes, rubbing small circles on your shoulder with his thumb, his eyes observing the droplet of vodka resting on your lips for a second before your tongue licks it off. For the first time in a while, you relax in his presence, muscles slack as you let him comfort you.

"Do you still mean it? What you said on the boat," he murmurs, staring as your fingers absentmindedly played with his gold signet ring.

You nod lazily, humming in response. "I do."

"I melted the cross."

A pause. "That was a dick move, but you're not unredeemable. You've done a lot of shitty things, Rafe. Maybe I'm fucking stupid but I'm hoping the person who used to be my best friend is still there underneath the constant need for your dad's approval."

"It's not his approval I need," he whispers into your hair, his ring spun around his finger by yours.

Your eyes drift open, staring at him. The familiarity of your eyes, now no longer filled with contempt or unease, almost breaks him because he has you back again. "I still care for you. And I know you'll fix this.”

He's thankful you close your eyes again, not wanting you to witness a tear running down his face. He wipes it off in your hair, kissing your forehead as you sleep.

You'll fix this.

Rafe stops the hitman from killing Ward.

You'll fix this.

Rafe drives him to the private jet, heart beating out of his chest as he sees you standing next to his sister.

He gets his father on the jet, telling you the cliff notes of what happened. With bloody hands, he holds your face in his hands as if you were the most delicate thing on Earth.

"I—I'm fixing it." he manages to get out, fingers trembling. Rafe tries to give you a smile but it's shaky.

Your brows furrowed in confusion. "Rafe, what—"

"Look, I know there's nothing I can say that can stop you from getting on that plane, so, please be careful, okay?" he whispers. Rafe doesn't wait for an answer, taking off his ring and putting it on your ring finger, never mind that it's far too big.

You stare at the ring for a moment before glancing back at him. "I can't—"

"I've fucked up a lot of things. But I'll fix it, all of it," he promises, bringing your hands to his lips, and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

"I know," you reply, heart clenching at the broken man in front of you.

"But come back to me, okay? You are the one thing I can't lose. I love you. Come back to me, baby." Rafe chokes out, eyes watering while he pleads.

Without thinking about it, you press your lips to his, not caring about the audience behind you. It's urgent and intense, his lips almost punishing. You taste blood, and he tastes a bit of heaven.

His heart breaks in two when you get on the plane, knowing you've taken it with you.

[minswriting]

hey hey I saw you're open for requests!

Anything for Hotch getting caught with non-BAU reader who he shouldn't be associated with? Maybe there's an age gap or she's the babysitter or someone's daughter/sister or even an unsub/witness.

Ik its a really broad request but I love your writing so I totally trust you - I just love a semi forbidden ship (without an angsty or sad ending!).

Thanks!!

nsfw | mdni

warnings: talks of murder, stalking, rape (nothing detailed because it’s literally just a summarization thing lol), nsfw content, getting caught, inappropriate relationships, etc.

it all began when you were a victim of a case. you had been getting stalked by an unsub in new york, a man who was killing women that reminded him of the woman that left him. he would stalk his victims before raping and killing them. you had been approached by the fbi, taking you into protective custody to ensure that the same thing didn’t happen to you. and that’s when you met aaron hotchner.

to say the two of you had immediately taken a liking to one another was an understatement. the two of you flirted with each other right off the bat which wasn’t really the best thing to do due to his position. you were a victim, not someone he met randomly at the bar. even so, he just couldn’t get you off of his mind.

so before he left to go back to virginia, aaron had given you his number. and now? well, it’s been a few months and the two of you have been seeing one another regularly like this weekend. you had flown to virginia to visit aaron and stay with him.

the house was quiet as jack had gone to jessica’s to sleepover for the weekend, leaving you and aaron to be alone. the only sounds in the house were the sounds of your moans mixing with the sound of skin slapping together.

“god, you’re so beautiful,” aaron exclaimed as he thrusted his cock inside of you. his brown eyes were looking down directly at your face. your head rested on the pillow, hair sprawled out, cheeks red, and face contorted in pleasure. “you love my cock, don’t you?” he asked as he watched your eyes roll back with each thrust of his cock.

“mhm,” you nodded your head, licking your lips. “i love your cock so much, aaron,” you replied, moaning loudly. “always feels so good.”

aaron rocked his hips, thrusting into you at a pace that felt best for the both of you. his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. aaron looked down at your pussy, watching his cock disappear inside of you. your cunt was glistening with arousal. “you’re absolutely soaked,” aaron groaned, bringing a hand to start rubbing your clit.

you simply whined in response, gripping the sheets below you as you felt yourself get near the edge. “i’m so close, aaron,” you moaned, opening your eyes to look at the man in front of you.

“fuck, me too, baby,” he replied.

and just as you felt your peak nearing, there was a “oh no! oh god!” at the door, followed by a small thud, signaling the person had dropped something. “i’m so incredibly sorry, sir, i-uh,” you and aaron both looked at the person at the same time, scrambling to cover yourself up with the blanket.

at the door was a blonde, someone you’ve never met before. “garcia,” aaron’s face hardened as he tried to compose himself, fully covered by the blanket. “what brings you here?”

“i-well, sir,” garcia began, glancing at you and then at aaron. “you hadn’t answered your phone at all in the past three hours and we have a new case so i told the team i’d come here and look for you and well- is that y/n from the new york case?” penelope asked finally as she rambled, looking at you fully.

you looked down at the blanket, being unable to come up with the proper words to speak.

“not that it matters but yes,” aaron exclaimed. “now please, leave. i need to get changed and then i’ll be right there.” and without a second glance, penelope picked up her phone from the ground and left slamming the door closed, leaving you and aaron alone. “i’m so sorry about that,” aaron apologized, looking at you. he grabbed your hand. “i didn’t expect to be needed at all tonight.”

“it’s okay,” you said with a small smile. “duty calls.”

“are you okay?” he asked, checking in on you.

you let out a breathless laugh. “other than being absolutely mortified that your co-worker just walked in on us nailing one another? i’m perfect.” you grinned at your partner.

aaron laughed as well, bringing your hand to his lips and kissing it. “yes well, i agree.” he exclaimed. “i should get ready. i’m sorry we won’t be able to spend the weekend together.” he said, looking at you with a look of guilt.

“don’t sweat it, aaron,” you said with a reassuring look. “i can come down next weekend. maybe even spend a week?”

“i’d love that,” he said, pulling you into his arms.

“sounds like a date.”

and with that, aaron kissed your forehead and lips before getting up off the bed and getting himself ready. let’s just say that when next weekend rolled around, you guys definitely made up for lost time.

however, the secret that aaron was seeing you had most certainly had been told to the rest of the team.

[buttercupfiction]

Be it fate or just plain misfortune, all it took was one little chance encounter to set you on a path you never even imagined you'd tread. Now, it's up to you to decide where it will lead you. As a child, you got your hands on a Vestige, a remnant of a bygone era containing immense power and potential. It was an opportunity many would pay dearly for, and pay you did, as finding the relic did not come without a cost. The encounter left you with a parting gift you wish you could return, and sent you and your sister on the run - and you've been running ever since. Years later, you find yourself in the bastion of knowledge, Verimys, joining the local guild in search for answers. But, it appears you have arrived at exactly the wrong time; a series of murders plagues the city, seemingly without rhyme or reason, and you are about to get dragged into the fray. With the fate of more than just your own life in your hands, can you weather the storm ahead?

Vestiges of the Hallowing is an interactive fantasy game written in Twine and published on itch.io. The game is heavily character driven, with a focus on character interaction and interpersonal relationships.

The DEMO currently goes up to Chapter 2, standing at 38k words (without code).

play as male, female, or nonbinary; cis or trans

customize your appearance, skillset, and personality

romance any (or none) of the 6 potential love interests (2 male, 2 female, 2 nonbinary) without any gender restrictions

join a guild, investigate the murders in the city, and uncover a secret or two (or ten)

explore the Archives in the city and find out more about the Vestiges and your...unique situation

the Companion

A member of the Greyhounds guild your sister talked into vouching for you. Eager to help and friendly with everyone, but when the spotlight is off him, that spark in his eye dies out. Is he really as relaxed and easygoing as he tries to appear? Appearance: Lanky and of average height, with tan skin and big round chocolate brown eyes framed by short fluffy hair of the same colour that falls in messy waves, encircling his face.

the Journalist

A journalist working for a local newspaper called The Meridian. Resourceful and naturally charismatic, she has a way with people that seems almost effortless. Persistent in the pursuit of the truth almost to the point of recklessness, how far is she willing to go to achieve her goals? Appearance: Tall and lean, with rich brown skin and hazel eyes with prominent specks of green. Her long black hair falls down her shoulders in big curls.

the Archivist

An archivist of the Order of Erudition. Poised and perfectly cordial at first glance, though anyone who has crossed their path would say it's all a front, concealing their razor sharp wit and heartless disposition. Seemingly always in the know about everything, with just the right words to say, one can't help but wonder what goes on behind that calculating gaze? Appearance: Lithe and on the taller side, with olive skin and dark, midnight blue monolid eyes. Their silky black hair falls in a fringe over one side of their face and reaches a little past their shoulders.

the Renegade

A mysterious stranger that appears to be living full-time in a tavern. Bitter and asocial, with only a stray dog as company, he refuses to get involved in anything, yet seems suspiciously connected to the happenings in the city. It's clear he's hiding something, but what? Appearance: Tall and athletic, with fair, freckled skin and forest green eyes. His fiery auburn hair is shaved on the sides, while the rest is left short and unruly.

the Investigator

One of the two agents sent by the City Council to investigate the murders. Soft-spoken and level-headed, with a keen eye for details and an even keener mind, their forte is obtaining information and interpreting it. Though it's obvious they're devoted to the task, something else draws their attention away from it; what could be so important? Appearance: Lean and on the shorter side, with pale skin and sandy blonde hair that falls in a fringe over their dark grey eyes.

the Enforcer

Second of the two agents sent by the City Council. Assertive and ambitious, with an unorthodox approach to solving problems, her skill with a sword and quick reflexes make her an invaluable asset. Driven, but not too concerned about her task nor the goings on in the city; is there something else that holds her interest? Appearance: Toned and of average height, with fair skin and icy blue eyes framed by bangs of sleek platinum blonde hair that, when loose, reaches the small of her back.

DEMO | KO-FI | ASKBOX | PATREON

[katsu28]

hiii request for jamie tartt here🫡 i loved ur recent fic sm!!! could you maybe do the acacia flower or sunflower prompt? in my head i see hiding their relationship bc reader is a teammates sibling, but oopsie someone got heart eyes and started rambling haha

or literally anything else is fine too if this doesn’t strike your fancy lol<3 tysm!!!

hello!! i loved this so much, u are a gem for requesting it <3

acacia: a hidden relationship + sunflower: drunken rambling about their adoration, jamie tartt x kent!reader (no physical descriptors so imagine whatever sibling type u want!), 2k

“Are you sure we can’t tell him about us?” Jamie’s voice from where he was fixing his hair in the mirror pulled you away from your book and you glanced over at him. 

This was a question he posed to you all the time, and every single time, your answer was the same—though getting more creative with the details with every occurance. 

“Do you want my brother to gouge your eyeballs out? Cut off your dick? Possibly murder you?” 

Jamie paled, freezing in place. “Not particularly.” 

“Then no, we can’t tell Roy we’re seeing each other.” You picked up your book again, ready to resume your reading, but Jamie let out a noise resembling that of a kicked puppy’s whine. His shoulders slumped and he trudged over to you, throwing himself down on the bed in front of your crossed legs. 

Setting your book aside for good this time, you watched him make himself comfortable with his head in your lap, cheek pressed against your thigh as he looked up at you with the puppy dog eyes to match his previous whine. 

“I hate all the secrets. I have to lie to him, straight to his scary face, every fuckin’ day. D’you know how stressful that is? How stressed I am?” He huffed. You bumped your knuckles against his chin affectionately.

It wasn’t fair, Jamie having to face Roy and lie everyday when you had to do it a tad less often, but it was a necessary evil. One day, you’d tell your brother, but first you had to figure out how. 

This, among other reasons, were the downsides to being in a secret relationship with Jamie. There were tons of upsides too, no doubt about it. 

You had the privilege of seeing a softer, sweeter side of him that was reserved only for you, but you couldn’t go out in public with him. Nights in were your favorite dates, but sometimes you wanted to go to a fancy restaurant and eat expensive food and share a dessert with your boyfriend without needing to worry about the tabloids having a field day of it all. 

You could already see the headlines if the press ever caught wind of your relationship—AFC Ricmond Star Jamie Tartt Bags Manager Roy Kent’s Sister. They’d stir shit up, claim that Jamie was only with you because your brother was in a position of power over him and who knows what else. 

Most of all, you certainly couldn’t let Roy find out you were seeing one of his players, especially not Jamie fucking Tartt. They were friends now, but he’d always been overly protective of his sisters ever since you were all kids. He’d throw a fit and probably kill Jamie, then you. Well, he probably wouldn’t go that far, but you’d definitely be on his bad side until he got over himself. And you loved your brother to death, but he was a dickhead sometimes. 

“I’m gonna get early wrinkles, love. You don’t want me to have those, do ya?” 

“I think you’d look adorable with wrinkles. Like a cute little old man.” You dotted a kiss to his forehead, attempting to smooth out the crinkle between his eyebrows with your thumb. 

“That’s not funny.” 

“It’s a bit funny.” 

“Right, since you obviously don’t appreciate my problems, I’m off.” Jamie heaved himself off the bed, forcing out a rather overexaggerated sigh. You smiled innocently at him and he rolled his eyes, his own soft smile still on his face. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips before heading for the door. “Dunno when I’ll be back but don’t wait up for me, yeah?” 

“Have fun, my love. I’ll just be here, thinking about you with wrinkles.” 

“Still not funny!” 

The Greyhounds were out in full swing tonight. Colin had somehow managed to book an entire pub for a whole night so they could drink and have a good time without being swarmed by the press vying for any morsel of gossip about one of the best up and coming Premier League clubs. Good friends, good food, even better beer—what more could anyone ask for? 

Jamie had been taking full advantage of it. That, paired with the fact that he no longer had to follow that god awful diet that deprived him of his beloved ice cold beverage, had led him to where he was right now, leaning heavily against the bar, drunk off his ass due to some sort of drinking game Jan Maas had insisted on teaching him. 

See, tipsy Jamie was fun. Very generous, would offer to buy a round or two, good for a few funny stories the next day. Absolutely pissed Jamie was a textbook oversharer. He didn’t make much sense, so everyone just mumbled a ‘very cool, mate!’ or something of the sort, made sure he didn’t topple over—those kinds of things. 

Roy was nursing his own beer next to Jamie tonight, half-listening in contained amusement as the Mancunian babbled on and on about someone. Who the fuck it was, Roy had no idea, but it was good entertainment and had soon garnered the attention of the rest of the team. Maybe this could be another one of those funny stories they could joke about in the locker room tomorrow. 

“She don’t look anythin’ like you, thank god. Imagine—imagine that! A lady Roy. Shit’s mad!” Jamie mused, amber beer spilling over the lip of the pint. “Nah, she’s the prettiest and the funniest and the coolest person ever and I love her.” 

“Who the fuck are you talkin ‘bout, bruv?” Isaac asked incredulously, looking just as amused as everyone else.

“Mate, I’m talkin’ ‘bout me girlfriend,” Jamie said very as-a-matter-of-factly, like they should’ve known that. “Duh.” 

“You’ve got a girlfriend? Since fucking when?” 

Jamie counted off on his fingers, scrunching his nose in thought. “Erm…four, five months? Maybe six?” He shook his head quickly, correcting himself. “No, not six. Would’ve done something special for six, wouldn’t I?” 

“First I’m hearing of it. How ‘bout you boys, did you know Jamie had a girlfriend?” Isaac asked, looking around. A chorus of ‘no’s and similar answers sounded amongst the others. Jamie’s brow furrowed. “It’s settled then. Who’s got the heart of the great Jamie Tartt?” 

“Good rhyme, boyo!” Colin chimed in, clapping his best friend on the back. 

Isaac looked proud of himself. “Whoa. I’m a fucking poet and I didn’t even know it.” He accepted another few praises before turning his attention back to Jamie, who looked like he was thinking really long and hard about something. “Okay, back to you. Tell us about her.” 

“I don’t even know where t’start, man,” Jamie sighed happily, resting his chin in his palm. “She’s kind and warm and—and she knows me better than anyone. It’s like…it’s like she’s an angel.” 

It was kind of weird, hearing Jamie be so open about his feelings for another person. He’d always been one to play things close to the vest, so that’s how they knew things with this secret girlfriend had to be serious. 

Sam beamed, happy as ever that his friend had found someone special. “Surely the angel from above has a name? Maybe one of us knows her?”

“Y/N.” 

The room fell silent. Everyone turned to look at Roy, who looked like he was about to start punching dicks. 

“Y/N, like…Roy’s sister, that Y/N?” Sam replied hesitantly, drawing pointed looks from every single one of his teammates. “I’m just confirming! There are other people named Y/N in London, you know.” 

Jamie pointed in his teammate’s general direction, nodding aimlessly. “Yep, her. That’s my girl.” 

Roy stood from his seat without a word, grabbing Jamie under the arm and dragging him towards the door. 

“Hey man, what the fuck are you—” 

“Just fucking shut up, will you?” 

“Okay.” 

You were about to call it quits on finishing your book and turn in for the night when the doorbell rang. When you went to open it, you definitely weren’t expecting to see your brother standing on your doorstep, practically carrying your half asleep boyfriend and looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. 

“Your prick boyfriend got proper pissed. Where do I put him?” 

So Roy knew. And judging by the way Jamie was swaying on his feet, you guessed that he’d been the one to let the cat out of the bag. 

“Erm, couch is fine. I’ll get him settled later.” You opened the door a little wider to let them in and Roy grunted his acknowledgement, hauling Jamie over to the couch and promptly dumping him onto the cushions.

Jamie didn’t even flinch when his face hit the pillows, instead just letting out a dreamy sort of sigh and smacking his lips together without even opening his eyes. You were the one to roll him over onto his side, nudging the dustbin right near his head before covering him with a blanket. 

“How much did he drink?” You asked, smoothing the walnut mist strands away from his eyes. 

“Too fucking much, that’s how much.” Roy grumbled. He wandered over towards a different area of your flat, not wanting to wake Jamie. “Jan Maas taught him a Dutch drinking game, except that fucker can actually hold his alcohol.” 

You cast a fond glance back at your boyfriend, smiling softly at his peaceful face. “Yeah, this one can’t really drink much anymore. Said it’s because of your training regimen, the no beer thing.” 

“Of fucking course you’d know.” 

“I assume Jamie told you about us.” You said quietly, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of your jumper instead of looking at Roy. Another vague low noise of acknowledgement from him, though it sounded a bit more strained this time. “If it helps you come to terms, Jamie’s been wanting to tell you for ages. I was the one who wanted to keep it under wraps.” 

“Why?” 

You let out a humorless chuckle, shaking your head. “‘Cause I knew what you’d think. Knew what you’d have to say about it.” 

“Are you a mindreader?” 

“No.” 

“Then how would you know what I’d think?” 

“Oh come on, Roy, you don’t think I know how you are? You get…dickish. I still remember you scaring off poor Billy Montgomery in year nine!” 

“Billy Montgomery was a fucking wanker, that’s why.” 

“Yeah, I know that now,” You huffed, scowling. Roy raised an expectant brow at you. “You’ve always been outspoken about the people I date. I just—I didn’t want you to be that way with Jamie. I know you’ve had your differences, and I know you’ve made up, but…I dunno, I was just worried about what you’d think of us.” 

“Do you love him?” Roy asked stiffly. There was a tic going in the hard line of his jaw when he forced his gaze to yours, and it almost looked like he was in the middle of shitting a brick. If you hadn’t been so nervous about his reaction, you probably would’ve laughed. 

“I do. A lot, actually. He’s…everything I could’ve asked for. Everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner.” 

“Then it shouldn’t fucking matter what I think.” Roy said. “Jamie makes you happy, and that is the only thing that matters.” 

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You’d been so worried about how you thought your brother was going to react to the news, you never stopped to consider that maybe Jamie wasn’t the only person who’d been working to change for the better. 

“Thank you, Roy.” 

Caught up in your heartfelt sibling talk, neither of you had noticed Jamie had woken up and stumbled over to the two of you until he gathered the two of you into a rather squished hug.

“My two favorite people, the Kent siblings! You guys are the best!” He slurred, nuzzling into the embrace. Roy let out a growl, but he patted Jamie’s back stiffly nonetheless. You had to stifle another laugh at how utterly uncomfortable he looked right now. “Oh fuck, I think I’m gonna throw up—” 

“That’s it, I’m fucking leaving.” Roy shoved Jamie away from him, wiping his hands off on the front of his jacket and heading for the front door. “Make sure he doesn’t choke on his own vomit and tell him he’s still got training tomorrow, I don’t care how shitty he feels!”

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[baby-yongbok]

One Shot

Mafia!Lee Know x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: Despite being a Mafia boss your husband has a big heart. He has a thing about protecting you and your sister, he's sworn his life to keeping you both safe in everyway that he possibly can so when your sisters partner Jisung is found out drunk with another woman your husband goes full protection mode. It doesn't matter that Jisung is his best friend, he'll do anything to protect you two.

Word Count: 1,064

Warnings: Guns, Mentions of blood and injuries, fainting, Mentions of anxiety

A/N: Happy Birthday Dear Minhooooooo, Happy Birthday to youuuuuu. + This is post #1 of the posts that I have planned for our wonderful, Lee Know. The rest will be posted tomorrow! 🎉

Also, this is just a One Shot that I wrote based off of this ongoing daydream that I have 😭 I liked it so I just thought that I'd share it. 💕

✨️Masterlist✨️

 “Minho, please don’t shoot. Don’t shoot.” My hands instinctively wrapped around his waist. I wanted to pull him away from all of this and hold him, I wanted to calm him down and hum to him for hours but no matter how hard I pulled at his shirt he wouldn’t move and he wouldn’t put the gun down. 

“Get back, Y/n.” I know he wants me to listen to him, the bass in his voice tells me so. He means what he says but I just don’t have it in me to leave him.

“Listen, baby you gotta put the -”

“Y/n, back the fuck up.” It would hurt less if he yelled at me but that growl that spilled from his lips already did all of the damage, reluctantly removing my arms from around his waist, I took a step back.

“I told you already, pull the fucking trigger.” The lack of emotion in Jisung’s voice didn’t make it any easier for me to process what was unfolding in front of me. My husband and my sister's fiance were at each other's necks and I’m the only one here to witness it. What makes it worse is that Jisung is Minho's right hand man, everyone looks up to him as a second boss and Minho loves him like a brother.

“What the fuck are you doing out here, Ji? With some bitch you just met. Your pregnant fiancee is probably at home wondering where the hell you are.” 

“You think I want to be home with her listening to her talk and talk about a baby?” Jisung is clearly beyond drunk but what he just said and the laugh that followed isn't helping his case right now. Minho is in full protection mode, he has a habit of getting a bit intense when it comes to someone he cares about, especially my sister and I.

 I’ve heard people say that my husband is a heartless monster who only cares about murdering and money but they don't know him. They don't know how sweet he can be. Even now I can see through his anger, I can see how hurt he is that Jisung would go behind my sister's back when they're months away from starting a family. 

“You made a baby with her, now be a man and go home. Go take care of your fiancee before I put a fucking hole in your chest.” I can’t help but cringe at the thought of Minho shooting him but Jisung doesn’t seem the least bit phased which brings me back to what I said about him being drunk. 

My sister had come to me a week ago saying that Jisung seemed like he was distancing himself and that his anxiety about the baby was getting more and more intense as the months went by but I never thought that it would be bad enough for him to go out to a random bar and get ridiculously wasted.

“ I can’t.” Jisung hangs his head, stumbling towards us a bit and Minho takes the safety off almost as if by instinct. “I’m not gonna be a good dad.” 

Minho slightly lowers his gun and his shoulders relax a bit at the sound of his friend opening up. “What are you talking about? Of course you will.”

“I won't, I can't be good enough for her. Look at what we do for a living.” Sitting on the ground in the alleyway, Jisung pulls his knees to his chest and rests his elbows on them. “She’s too good for me.” 

For the first time since I’ve ever met Jisung I’m standing in front of him and watching him cry. Never in the eight years that I’ve known him have I ever seen him display any emotion besides angry and happy. Minho lowers the gun completely, clicking the safety on before placing it back in the holster on his belt. A weight is instantly lifted off my shoulders once I realize that this entire situation is turning around for the better. 

“Jisung, you gotta go home, man. It’s okay to be scared, that's normal but you can’t go and get wasted then leave with some girl you don’t know at all because you’re scared you won’t be a good father. You gotta try harder than this.” 

“Do you think she will forgive me? For being such a fuck up.” Taking a step closer, Minho runs his hands through his hair. 

“You aren’t a fuck up, you’re scared and that’s fine. You two should talk to someone, I can help you find someone but you gotta do something differently. You can't do reckless shit like this.” Minho stops in front of Han and kneels down to his level.

“I don’t think she’ll forgive me.” 

“Ji, you gotta-” I jumped as Minho was interrupted by the bang of his gun. I swear that it was loud enough to ring in my ears for years to come. It all happened so fast, Minho kneeled down and right when he went to pull Jisung into a hug he snatched the gun out of the open holster and put it to his head. “Han!” 

Minho tackled him, a hopeful attempt at stopping him. I stood there, shocked and praying that the bullet didn’t hit him. Praying that Jisung maybe forgot to click the safety off or Minho got him down just in time. 

“ What the fuck.” Minho groaned laying next to a crying destressed Jisung. 

“You should’ve let me…” Minho sat up and looked at me, anger and concern were shining in his eyes and as if I read his mind I subconsciously pulled out my phone to call for help.

“Y/n, Call Chan and tell him where we are, tell him I’ve been shot and that we need help asap.” 

“You’ve been…” I didn’t want my eyes to trail down his body and search for a gunshot wound. Hell, I didn’t even want to be here but I am and my eyes found exactly what I didn’t want to.

Minho was holding his torso tightly applying pressure to his wound. 

“Y/n, don’t.” I couldn’t even hear Minho say anything to me before I blacked out. I fell to my knees and before I knew it my limp body was sprawled across the ground and everything around me faded into darkness.

[theheirofthesharingan]

What do you think about mikoto and fugaku as parents to Itachi & Sasuke? Fugaku gets a bad rep as a parent, but what about mikoto?

Wow, I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

Yeah, Fugaku gets a bad rep as a father and it's rightly so. Mikoto is seen as a loving mother, and while some part of that love is valid, and I like her for being a good mom to Sasuke, my admiration for her was dented upon the realization that she was a neglectful mother towards Itachi. And as much of a hot take as it might seem, both Fugaku and Mikoto were better parents to Sasuke than they were ever to Itachi.

So, I have mixed feelings about them both. And when I include Fugaku with Mikoto as a 'better parent' to Sasuke, please know the bar is in absolute hell.

I like the fact that Mikoto was at least invested in Sasuke's life.

She was present in his life, albeit for a short while, and involved in it. She provided him, offered him the love he deserved and needed as a baby. She saw Sasuke was suffering and struggling to get his father's attention, and provided her moral support to him. There's not a single instance, however, she was present there for Itachi. Itachi, too, would have needed his mother's support sometime, that too when he was being sucked into the politics, but we don't see him getting any of that. One could argue it was because Sasuke never witnessed.. Yeah, but how was it after learning the truth not a single memory clicked in his mind that would give away Itachi's sufferings in front of his mom? It's probably because it never happened.

Fugaku was outright neglectful towards Sasuke. Not just that he repeatedly compared Sasuke with Itachi, refusing to see him as his own person and saw him as only a shadow of the 'perfect' Itachi. If Sasuke wasn't as good as Itachi in all the things, he wasn't worth paying attention to, right?

The reason Sasuke was Sasuke and Itachi was Itachi was because of Mikoto. I strongly feel that children need a powerful feminine presence in their lives, which comes from their mothers or sisters. Sasuke was gentle and remained so after everything he went through. I believe it was because in his formative years Mikoto had been there for him.

There's a lot more to explore on Fugaku and Itachi than his parents with Sasuke. When I say Fugaku was a better father to Sasuke, what I mean is that despite being neglectful, he didn't drag Sasuke in the political mess that Itachi was. Sasuke was kept in complete darkness (probably like other kids of the clan) but Itachi wasn't shown this much kindness.

Fugaku and Itachi's conversations are mostly one sided with Mikoto being a silent spectator.

This conversation in particular pains me the most in regards to Itachi. It's like he's only allowed to say yes and no, and any other disagreement with his father on the subject will not be taken positively. He seems unhappy and is suffering and his feelings as a child are not taken into account at all. I say no one treated him like a human. But his own parents never even saw him a child.

Itachi had been acting strange ever since joined Anbu and Fugaku wonders what's wrong with him.

Shisui was spying on Itachi. Did he agree to go out spy on his BFF because some random Uchiha said this to him? Or was he ordered to do so by the chief of the police force? Fugaku, most likely, consented to Shisui spying on Itachi.

Some people say this is an instance of Itachi being evil. LMAO. imagine your best friend committed suicide in front of you and some people come to your house to accuse you of his murder along with many other things? Right. He must behave very angelic.

My man's worried what's wrong with his son who's being subjected to some burden he's dealing with all alone. And neither him not his wife want to reach out to him like normal parents should.

Eventually, when Sasuke asks whats wrong with Itachi and why he doesn't pay much attention to him, Fugaku has an even-I-don't-know response.

In the anime Fugaku says 'Your brother had a hard time dropping his guard'. All of it is an indicator of how terribly Itachi was treated. It wasn't just neglect but also an additional burden of the clan and the village. And all of this is being said about a child that isn't even thirteen yet.

Honestly, I give a lot of benefit of doubt to all the characters in Naruto, Fugaku and Mikoto included. And this opinion on Sasuke and Itachi's parents is because how much Itachi is hated when, it's obvious how every single grown up, especially his parents, in his life failed him. He wasn't treated as a child.

Although, I don't like to hate on their parents either. Fugaku and Mikoto were nothing but kind to Itachi in the end. He'd have cherished those last moments forever until his last breath. Sasuke spoke openly to his father the day he lost him. He'd have hoped he'd continue to be like this with his family but that was the only time in his life he received genuine acknowledgement from his dad.

No, Fugaku and Mikoto were worse parents to Itachi than they were to Sasuke. I like Mikoto because she loved sasuke and showed him genuine love. But i can't like her more because Itachi needed support from his family, which he never got.

Yet they both lost so much and loss of their parents was the worst thing that happened to them both.

[spiritofpassionfruit]

Ratiorine Moriarty The Patriot AU would cure me, actually you don't even know.

(Tweaking the wiki summary a bit here) In 19th century Europe, due to the strict class stratification thar opposes everyone, the average citizen has little chance in getting to the top, where the nobility rules them all.

A few days after Kakavasha's sister had died from the mistreatment of the Earl they work for, Another orphan is brought to work alongside Kakavasha, her name being Jelena. Both of them quickly become friends over their shared hatred for the corrupt nobility and start scheme together how to kill the Earl, burn down the family estate, and start a new life together using illegal means to destroy the class system. Upon their first case being sucfesfully splendid despite the odds that were against them, both of them bury their old names and start anew as Aventurine and Topaz, and become master criminals who take down corrupted nobles throughout Europe.

While enacting an elaborate scheme to murder a noble who was hunting commoners, one day Aventurine encounters Doctor Veritas Ratio, who deduces a third party was involved in the murder. This piques Aventurine’s interest in Dr Ratio, leading him to test his abilities by framing Veritas for murder.

Thus ensues a battle of wits between two of the greatest minds the world has ever seen as Aventurine relentlessly pursues a better world and Dr Ratio pursues the reason why he was chosen by the infamous Lord of Crime to play a part in his murders.

>Extra thoughts: Jelena and Kakavasha share a last name thinking they would get seen as siblings only to backfire most of the times when they are seen as couple. It doesn't matter to Jelena right up until she sees Aventurine flirting with the doctor and she goes 'If I don't tell them that this man is NOT my husband they will think he's flirting with a man right in front of his wife!

>Don't let Dr Ratio know that the cute piglet Topaz has for a pet is the one that has been eating the evidence for a better part of his diet.

>Dr Ratio lives in Screwllum's house. He had to move after the whole Greek War of Independence. Whenever or not it was his intention to leave his homeland is up to debate.

>Aventurine was the one to bury his sister since the Earl didn't care much about their servants. Out of pity, the gardener let Kakavasha bury his sister in a desolate place in the garden where the Wsrl wouldn't notice.

>Gosh the Bridge Scene but Ratiorine... The fucking bridge scene.

[eu-nicola]

Lord of Driftmark

Lucerys Velaryon x Fem! OC

Summary: it wasn’t secret that prince lucerys had many conquests and his sister was jealous.

warnings: my first language isn’t English and I didn't correct this / smut / incest / I know the labels aren’t 100% correct

It wasn’t a secret to the kingdom that Prince Lucerys "Lord of Driftmark" had many conquests throughout the kingdom, he was refused to marry and belong completely to anyone, his mother Queen Rhaenyra had tried many times to convince him but he simply did not want to, he was fine as sole ruler and with his women around, it was said that he had had some bastards but he had not wanted them, they were had dark hair as any child could have so there was no way to prove that they were his children.

On the other hand there was his younger sister Visenya the young girl who loved him since she had been conscious, she had always felt jealous of all the women who hovered around him and she wanted to murder each and every one of them but she could not, she could not show herself like that to others and she was definitely not going to let her jealousy win her over. Sometimes the princess made some of her brother's suitors disappear, the prettiest ones she sent away and made sure they never came near them again, it wasn't necessary scary them because they had the beautiful woman with a strong character and fierce stories.

Rhaenyra knew what her daughter felt and she also knew that there was no line in the world that Visenya would not cross for him.

sometimes it reminded her of her youth, the fire her children had within her and how they were as attracted to each other as she was to Daemon. Rhaenyra was aware that her son felt the same way since when it was suggested to him that she and Daemon had the idea of marrying Visenya to a noble of one of the houses he flatly refused, he even got angry at the idea. That was the first time.

There was another occasion in which Visenya was talking with a young Stark and while they were laughing and talking from afar Lucerys watched them and especially the man he killed him with his eyes, that time he called the man and took him away from the room after that it was only known that the next day he was returning to his home.

Both did everything to prevent the other from interacting with other people but neither of them did anything to be together.

As a princess she had to marry urgently and that was about to happen, despite Lucerys' attempts to stop it from happening, the Lannister house accepted the queen's offer to marry her youngest daughter to John Lannister, the youngest son of the family. Visenya was not entirely happy but if that was what she had to do she would do it no matter what, her family was the most important thing and above all her name was.

That day all the houses prepared to go to the wedding of their princess, by request of the Lannister house the wedding was going to be like any other because they did not want to follow the Valyrian traditions for not knowing them, Visenya was upset with this because she always wanted to get married under their traditions but there was nothing you could say to make them do it. After that everything happened quickly and the young couple was finally married, the whole event was witnessed by Lucerys from afar because at no time he wanted to approach them more than he should, he didn’t want to talk to them and much less to congratulate them.

While the people danced and drank Visenya's ladies took her to her room to prepare her to be with her husband, they bathed her body and let her hair down, they dressed her with a beautiful white nightgown ready for the night, as soon as they left Visenya heard the sound of the door and she thought it was her husband but it was not, it was prince Lucerys right in front of her.

"What are you doing here Lucerys?". She asked.

"I wanted to see my little sister “. He answered her, getting even closer to her.

"You didn't want to greet me the whole dinner, why would do it now? “. Visenya moved away from him trying to avoid him touching her but he was quicker and he grabbed her by the wrist. "Let go Lucerys, I don't want you to touch me".

"You don't want to eh?, that's not what it looks like when I see you spying on me with other women". Visenya was stunned to be discovered and did not want to say a word. "I know you want to be the one under me “.

"No, I don't and I will never want to". She defended herself.

"Never say never, darling “. Immediately after that he grabbed her by the waist pulled her to him and kissed her.

In the blink of an eye they were both on the bed she was supposed to share with her husband, Visenya straddling his lap, Lucerys' large hands roaming from her hips to the curve of her slightly exposed ass.

"Luke." She moaned as best she could. Her pussy was throbbing as he kissed her neck, slapping his hips against her clit.

"You must go, my husband could arrive." She pleaded him.

" Maybe then he will realize that no one could ever make you feel the way I do ". He whispered against her neck.

He stood up a little and turned around to drop her on the bed. He helped her take off her dress and leave her completely naked, walked over to her and began to distribute kisses all over her body and the occasional mark.

" Please Luke, don't tease me." She begged him.

" Are you going to let me use this pretty pussy?" he asked, running his tip up and down.

She nodded her head and he immediately smiled, his right hand reaching down to grab her thigh while his left hand guided his cock.

She moaned as she slowly felt him, her pussy stretching around his cock as he soothed her.

"It won't last long the pain, trust me." He told her. He leaned into her face spreading kisses across her lips and neck as he began to gently thrust in and out of her.

Visenya was starting to get desperate and wanted more. "Luke, harder." She whispered in his ear. He was surprised but took advantage and wasted no time to start fucking her harder.

"Tomorrow morning you will be carrying my child in your womb and no other man will be able to touch you".

Finger nails running down his muscular back, his words made Visenya thrill.

" Did you understand me?" . He asked taking her by the throat.

" Yes yes, I will take as many children as you ask me to, I promise " . He continued to pound her relentlessly, one hand gripping her thigh and the other grabbing her pretty throat.

"Please, I need...".

"Cum around my cock." He asked her and so she did, she felt free.

Luke finally came and his body felt bigger and bigger on top of her, his cum felt hot as it filled her cervix.

"Shit." he exhaled, pulling his cock out as his cum dripped from Visenya's pussy.

He brought his fingers up and pushed them back into her, making sure nothing escaped.

"Let nothing go to waste." He told her before planting a kiss on her mouth.

"Luke and what about my husband?". She asked him.

"I'll make sure it looks like an accident". At such an answer she smiled at him and kissed him again.

She was tired but she wanted to keep her promise and give him as many children as he asked for and for that to be fulfilled they had to keep going, so without wasting time she climbed on top of her brother and again directed his cock in her aching pussy to feel him deep inside.

" So someone is eager to continue." He told her with a smile. He took by the hips and began to guide her in her work and so they continued their night without stopping until dawn.

[j0elmill3r]

Wish You Were Here (I); Shine On You Crazy Diamond

"Nobody knows where you are, how near, how far"

Pairing - Joel Miller x Daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x Niece!Reader, Ellie Williams x Miller!Reader (Platonic)

Summary - Witnessing your fathers' demise at the hands of the daughter of a man he killed saving your best friend, you realize your crusade for revenge for your fathers brutal death is bound to be a bloody one.

Warnings - Diverges from canon, spoilers for the last of us part 2, canon violence, death, mentions and implications of suicide (Please let me know if I missed any!)

Word Count - 3k

A/N - Here is an introduction to my new series! It's gonna be split into 4 parts, all titled in relation to the Pink Floyd album - Wish You Were Here. I hope everyone enjoys this, as always, feedback is always appreciated with reblogs, likes and comments! This is also such a divergence from canon it's genuinely unbelievable.

Joel Miller Masterlist

Growing up smack bam during a global pandemic was not all it had cracked up to be. You weren't old enough to remember the world before the infection had ruined it, being only 3 years old at the beginning of the pandemic meant you had no recollection of your life before this world - It also mean that you had no memories of your older sister, Sarah. Joel, however, told you stories of your older sister, how much she loved you and how at every birthday, she used her wish to beg for a little sister.

You were incredibly close to your father - Despite how tough he was on you as you started getting older, you knew he was just looking out for you, teaching you essential survival skills that you would need if you wanted to live in this new, dangerous world. But even though he was tough on you, you still saw his softer and father like self. He took care of you when you were sick, told you shitty jokes when you were sad just so he could see you smile - You were the reason he missed his shot. You had walked in on his room as he held his gun to his head, fear displayed on your small face, causing him to move his hand away as his hand acted before his fingers, pulling the trigger and narrowly missing his skull. The hearing in his right ear had completely depleted, but you were crying blue murder, and your dad was the only person who could console you - He was all you had and he wanted to leave you all on your own. Which was why you took it so personally when someone had informed you of the trouble that your dad, uncle, and best friend were in.

The place was silent as you quietly made your way down the long halls of the mansion you found yourself in, following the noise to a specific room, to which the door was left slightly ajar - which should have been your first red flag. It was like someone wanted you to go to that room specifically for whatever reason. Ignoring your gut instinct, you crept towards the door which was partially open, but before you could take in what was in the room, you let out a scream as you were suddenly tackled to the floor, grunting as your head hit off of the solid concrete with a thud that resonated throughout your skull. You weren't quite sure how you had ended up on a rescue mission to attempt to save your dad, uncle, and your best friend Ellie - who's falling out with your father had resulted in you too falling out with the girl who had expected you to side with her instead of your own father. As you were pinned to the floor, your heart stopped at the sight in front of you, it felt like all the air had been sucked out from your body as your jaw lay open in shock.

Your father lay on the ground, covered in blood, a woman standing beside his barely breathing self, holding a golf club dripping with his blood. She turned to you, looking you dead in the eyes as she crouched down in front of your, her cold eyes meeting your tear filled ones. Despite the tears in your eyes, you maintained your tough façade that you thought to be unbreakable, but you feared this would be what broke your tough and hardened exterior, the one that you had adopted from your father as you grew to realise the world you lived in was not one that would be kind to your child-like self.

"I'll fucking kill you, you hear me?!" You yelled at the girl in front of you, it was both a threat and a promise. She scoffed as she shook her head, standing back up and going back towards your father, listening as you grunted as the men restraining you forced you to watch, putting pressure on your neck as they knelt on it; partially cutting off your airways.

Your glassy eyes met Joel's tired ones, they were almost empty, vacant - if not for his increasingly shallow breathing, you would have already mistaken him as dead. "No, dad, please get up," You begged your father, your hardened exterior cracking as you pleaded like a child for your dad to get up and show the woman that held his life in her hands who he was. "Dad fucking get up!" You yelled, demanding now that he get up from this - despite the logical sense in your brain telling you that there was no chance of your father escaping from this, but your traumatized inner child that had her entire childhood ripped away from her needed her daddy to get up and save her. "Please, please don't do this." You begged the girl who stood by your father, her grip on the golf club tightening as she listened to your pleas for your father's life to be spared.

Your pleas, however, fell on deaf ears.

You watched as the girl swung the golf club down onto your fathers head, cracking his skull open with one, sickly crack.

"No!" You sobbed out, clenching your eyes shut as painful and powerful sobs wracked your body. You watched through tear-clouded eyes as Joel let out one last breath before going completely limp, your father's heart completely stopping, ending his life. You didn't care that you were openly bawling in the presence of the very people that had attributed to your fathers death. You weren't paying attention to anything else around you, only able to focus on Joel's dead body, which you were still being forced to stare at - It wasn't for long though, as a swift kick to the face knocked you out.

In the days following Joel's death, the atmosphere was bleak, no one could face anything, but there was one thing you couldn't face - returning back to the house you shared with him, without him with you.

But you had to. As much as it pained you, you had to return to an empty house - a house in which your fathers bed remained unmade, his cup of coffee still on the kitchen countertop where he had left it that morning before the snow had fallen. You barely made it to the kitchen without breaking down, your dad was planning on coming home. He was planning to wash that cup, planning to make his bed - He was going to come home and you were going to have dinner together, this was supposed to be how you'd get to live out the rest of your life, settled with your dad.

But no.

You had that taken from you.

You weren't sure what you had done in any past life to deserve to have had so much taken from you. Your sister, your own damn childhood, and now your dad - you wondered what was next to be ripped from your grasp. You grunted as you fell onto one of the chairs at the dining table, grabbing the nearest bottle of liquor you could grab to drown your misery in, not even bothering to get yourself a glass - You had polished off the bottle in two go's, slamming it down on the table after emptying it. The more you thought about it, the more you realised how unfair this was. You, to the best of your knowledge, had done nothing to that girl. So why did she take your father away from you? and why so brutally? Why did she make you watch as he died?

You had been thinking too much, and you could tell by your reaction. You yelled out in anguish as your threw the glass bottle at the wall, not even flinching as it smashed and the glass pieces fell to the floor. Your chest heaved as you clenched your fists, your nails breaking the skin of your palms - You didn't register the sting as the small marks on your hands started to bleed. Your heavy breathing continued as your eyes filled up with tears, and you barely reacted as Tommy came through the side door of the house. It was been obvious that he had been crying, but he knew he had to check on you, giving that you had shut yourself completely off.

"Y/N?" Tommy watched as you looked up at him, a frown on his face as he noticed sad, yet vacant look in your eyes. "You okay?" He knew it was a painfully stupid question. Of course you weren't okay. You had watched your father be brutally killed in front of your very eyes with little to no explanation of why, how could you be okay after that?

"I hope that was a light-hearted attempt at humour," You murmured, sniffling as you rubbed your nose and met your uncle's eyes. He sighed, side stepping the pile of shattered glass at the door and pulling out the seat in front of you - it was your dad's seat, a seat that he would never sit on again to have breakfast with you.

"Everyone's thinking about you," Tommy informed you, referring to the growing bundle of flowers which was piling up higher and higher, offering a variety of apologies and condolences to you in relation to your fathers death. You scoffed incredulously, shaking your head - You knew that your dad was well valued and loved, but he was your dad. These people didn't know him - they didn't know that he still slept with his door slightly open so if you had a panic attack he could get to you quickly, they didn't know he had wanted to be a singer growing up. They didn't know your father.

"Yeah, of course they would be," You deadpanned. Tommy sighed as he rubbed his hands on his jeans, taking a deep breath before looking at you.

"Y/N, the girl who...who killed your dad," It pained Tommy to say that his brother was dead, but it pained him even more to remind you that your dad was gone. "When we took Ellie to the fireflies all those years ago, your dad killed a bunch of people to save her. That girl is the surgeon's daughter." Tommy explained to you, watching your face as all of the pieces fell into place. So, you did know this girl. Anderson...Anderson....Abby. You remembered,  The Washington Liberation Front.

So, this was revenge.

"Ellie's gone."

"What?" Your head snapped up to look at your uncle.

"She went off with her girlfriend, Dina, I think. She's pregnant," Tommy smiled sadly as you nodded in acceptance, your best friend having abandoned you for her family - something you had lost so much of in the recent days that you weren't sure if you were the problem. You sat in silence for a moment before standing up.

"I'm going to bed." You announced, turning and heading up the stairs before Tommy could say anything. He sighed, watching you run upstairs and into the safety of your room.  He let himself out, locking the door with the spare key Joel had given to him - Just in case, he had said. Unbeknownst to Tommy, you didn't manage to reach your room, as you stopped right outside your fathers, you felt like you couldn't move, paralysed by your grief. In the blink of a moment, you felt like you couldn't breath, your chest constricting as you started sobbing uncontrollably in front of the room that your father would never get to return to. You couldn't build the courage to enter your fathers room, instead crumbling to your knees outside of it, your chest aching as you sobbed, your body shaking as you cried.

You yawned as you opened your eyes, letting out a whine as you stretched out the best you could in your uncomfortable position. You were sandwiched between your dads back and his backpack, it mean his arms weren't tired from carrying you constantly.

"Daddy?" You got Joel's attention, gaining a hum of acknowledgement from your father as he walked alongside your uncle. "Where we goin?" You questioned him. Joel sighed as he tried to come up with a lie to tell you, he knew you didn't understand the severity of what was going on.

"We're gettin somewhere safe, baby girl," Joel assured you, reaching back to hold your small hand to try and comfort you in some way. "Try and go back to sleep, okay?" He told you, tilting his head to the shoulder that you rested your head against, wishing that he too could sleep with you. But any time he had tried, he just saw Sarah dying. Over and over and over again.

You awoke with a groan, rubbing your eyes as you rolled onto your back. Maybe having fallen asleep on the floor wasn't your greatest idea, but your pain was soon forgotten as the smell of eggs wafted up to your nose - Had it all been a bad dream? Was your dad making your breakfast? With hope rising in your chest, you pushed yourself up and off of the floor, making your way down to the kitchen, fully expecting to see your dad standing there - Only to be met with your uncle Tommy. Seeing him standing there instead of your father posed only as a painful reminder of what you had lost, but you couldn't be mad at Tommy, he was grieving too - He had lost his brother just as much as you had lost your dad.

"Morning," He greeted you with a small smile, turning the pan off and turning to face you.

"Yeah, morning," You replied, taking the cup of coffee he offered out to you - You spared a glance to your dad's mug, which still sat in the place he had left it that morning. Tommy knew not too touch anything, this was your house as much as it was your dad's, and if you didn't want anything touched, he would respect that.

"You sleep okay?" Tommy asked you, knowing you were lying when you simply nodded in response. "I...tried, to make you breakfast." He offered a plate of scrambled eggs out to you and gave you a small smile as you took the plate from him and sat down at the dining table wordlessly.

"Thanks," You eventually spoke, looking up at Tommy as he sat across from you. "I'm going to find them. All of them," Your uncle looked at you in confusion, raising his eyebrow to prompt you to continue. "I'm going to Seattle to find her and her group, and I am going to kill, every. Last. One of them." Tommy nodded. If he was being totally honest, he knew this was coming, and if you were anything like your father (which he knew you were), you would make them regret ever laying a hand on your father, and you would make it bloody - anything to get your point across.

"Y/N-"

"No. Don't tell me not to do this. I have to," You told him adamantly, cutting his sentence off before he could get another word in. "I can't let them away with this. They killed my fucking dad, Tommy." You felt yourself filling up again, but not out of sadness, no - this was completely raw, and unfiltered rage.

"Hey. I wasn't telling you not to do this," He finished the sentence you had cut off before, and you looked down at him with a quirked brow. "I was going to tell you that you're not going alone. He wasn't just your dad, and I know that you know that. So we're going together, if I let you go yourself and you get hurt, I know that your dad would never forgive me." You let out a sigh and nodded, accepting your uncle's help in getting revenge for your father.

After breakfast, you packed essentials into your backpack - water, ammo, and a jacket, one you had stolen from your dad - and you made your way to Tommy's. He had managed to get a hold of a car to help in your journey to hunt down Abby Anderson and her crew. Setting off out of Jackson, you couldn't help the part of you that unfairly blamed Ellie for the death of your father.

If Joel hadn't been so hellbent on saving the girl, then he wouldn't have shot Jerry Anderson, and his daughter would still have her father, and you would still have yours.

But no - Ellie Williams was so fucking special to your father that he had sealed his own fate by saving her. You hated how easily she moved on from your dads death, that it was so easy for her to move up and out with her girlfriend and surrogate son, while you and your uncle grieved Joel's loss. Some best friend she turned out to be, huh? You shook your head, and with it your thoughts of Ellie, opting to stare out of the window as your uncle drove out of Jackson and onto the country roads towards Seattle.

Towards your quest for violent and bloody revenge.

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[hotchners-wifey]

Save Her

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader, Platonic!BAU x Reader, Morgan!Sister Reader

Summary: Y/N has a past she's never told anyone about, she was involved in some heavy things when she lived in England with her Aunt and Uncle. Things she thought were murdered along with her best friend, things she thought went missing with her boyfriend. Things that followed her to Quantico, Virginia. Previous Chapter~ Next Chapter Chapter Warnings: digging into the lives of the deceased,

________________________________________ The jet took off and we sat down around the laptop to talk to Penny, "Alright, I ran background checks on our two victims. From what I found their lives were fairly different, Judy Harris worked in accounting for Chicago Public Schools and Bobby Arin was a mechanic at a local auto shop." Penny explained. "Did you check recent purchases on Judy's credit cards to see if she paid for car services?" Derek asks. "That's the thing, when I went to check their recent purchases there was none." I looked up from the files, "What do you mean there were none?" I asked confused, "Exactly what I said, both accounts stop making purchases right around the same time three months ago." She leaned out of frame and came back with a mug in her hands, "Alright Garcia, keep searching for anything that could help." She nods and leaves the call. Hotch turns himself to look at all of us, "Y/L/N and Prentiss I want you to go to the crime scene and try to find anything left behind by our Unsub or by the victims, Rossi and Morgan go to the morgue and talk to the coroner. JJ and Spence try and get in contact with their families and see if they know why they stopped making purchases to their cards. I will head to the station, talk to the chief and set up for us." We nodded and separated for the remainder of the flight. I walked over to the couch and grabbed my blanket that I stash under the seat and sit down. Spence walks over to me and sits on the other side of the couch I pulled my legs onto the couch and laid them across his lap and spread the blanket over both of us. I shuffled around to get comfortable and closed my eyes, drifting off to sleep. Ignoring the looks JJ and Emily sent our way. ________________________________________ 5 Years Ago ________________________________________

Rossi decided he wanted to host a party for the team, I had never gone out with the team because I didn't like to party but this was the only exception because only the team would be there. I pulled up to Rossi's house and to say my jaw dropped would be an understatement. I thought my apartment was grand but it was nothing in comparison to David Rossi's mansion like house. I parked next to the other cars in the drive-way and walked towards the front door. I knocked and the door opened revealing a very happy Penelope, "Y/N?! Guys Y/N's here!" I smile at her excitement and she stands aside to let me in. "Wow I never thought I'd see the day my little sister would leave her home and come to a party." Derek jokes from his seat at the table, "Shut up Derek, you know that I hate going to big outings and seeing as it's only the team here I don't see it as a big outing." I responded with a smile. He smirks and turns back to his card game he was playing. I set my coat on the coat rack and walk further into the house, I spot Spencer sitting on the far side of the living room reading a book and I walk over to him. "Whatcha reading Spence?" He looks up and gives me a small smile, "The Fault In Our Stars, I remember you telling me it's your favorite book and I wanted to check it out." I smiled, "When did you start reading it?" He looked back down at the book and smiled a little, "Yesterday evening." I stared at him wide eyed, "And you're already on the last few pages?" He nodded, "I guess no one told you boy genius over there can read like 10,000 words a minute." Rossi pitched in from his kitchen, "It's actually 20,000 words per minute but who's counting." Spence said with a smirk, I kneeled down next to him and poked his face, "You're so lifelike." Derek burst out laughing. Spence swatted my hand away and I sat on the couch next to him while we waited for Rossi to finish cooking. I could used to nights like these. ________________________________________ Taglist~ @sebastiansstanswhore, @itsleilabxtch

[envythemouse]

Day 1 of rewatching ajin (ep 1-4)

Kei is way more empathetic than I remember, might be because I always rewatched the episodes wherein he's colder.

"But, wait, if he crashes at this speed, that guy will probably die."

This dude is out for your head and you're worried about accidentally killing him?

"I'm more worried about you, Kai."

Anyone notice how Kei acts way more vulnerable around Kai? No wonder people ship them so hard... Kai is the literal sun, guys. Finds out his childhood friend is in danger and doesn't think twice about going on the run together. The way he beat up all the guys out for Kei's blood with no hesitation? That's love, right there.

"I want to live a quiet, normal life."

"Run, Eriko! A ghost is coming!"

Did you see the way Kei tried to shield his sister with his own body?

He's so much softer than I remember and I think now I ship him with Kai even more...

Kei's sister is weird. She witnesses multiple people getting brutally murdered in front of her, gets kidnapped by the murderers and when they hand her a business card saying they're good guys she just believes them??

Also why does the song at the end of every episode sound like a love song... *cough* Keikai's love song.

[illbewritinghere]

Thoughts on Indika

I love media with themes of nuns, I remember watching Sister Death with my wife and enjoying it. I have to say I picked up Indika just by looking at the cover art, I had no prior knowledge about the game. Looking at the trailer I assumed it to a Monty Python-esque escapades of a Nun. It is, but it is so much more than that.

The Story (spoilers)

The story takes place in 19th to early 20th century Russia and is about a girl named Indika. She lived with her father who ran a bike shop. When she was 15 she met a gypsy boy, they became friends and soon they fell in love. The boy asked Indika to run away with her to the city where they can start a new life. Indika reluctantly agreed and the boy convinced her to let him steal money from her father's store. However, the boy gets caught stealing by the father. He drags him out of the store in front of Indika and asks her if she knows the boy. Indika was just a child and seemed to be scared of her burly and mean looking father, out of fright she said she didn't know him and her father shot and killed the boy right infrot of Indika.

This snapped something in her. Watching the love of her life killed in front of her own eyes by her father. She felt tremendous guilt, maybe if she had said she knows the boy her father would not have killed the boy. She did not want to accept her fault and blamed it on the devil. Ever since then, she started to hear the devil in her head, and blamed every bad thing she did on the devil. Her father after realizing this, sent her to a Nunnery to become a nun.

Fast forward maybe ten years later, the game starts with Indika performing the everyday chores of a Nun. She is disliked among her peers even though she is very polite to everyone. Probably because the orthodox people she is around do not like the fact that she has the devil residing inside her head.

One day she was tasked with delivering a letter for which she had to travel to another town. Things take turn for the worse however when Indika was cornered by a person who tried to rape her. Fortunately she was saved by an escaped convict, Illya. She felt indebted and helped Illya escape the authorities.

On her journey, she finds out Illya has a decomposing arm which he refuses to amputate. Illya is a religious man and he believes that in a farway land there is a rumor of something called the Kudets which performs miracles in front of your very own eyes. Indika decided to follow him to find the Kudets because she believes that it could also help her rid the devil from inside her.

Through out her journey, we get to see the human side of Indika, she seems to question her faith while still blindly following it, she shows sexual attraction towards Illya but still abstaining from it. Every time she would think of questioning her faith, we'll hear the devil talking and Indika would shut the voice up by conforming to her beliefs.

Things took an unfortunate turn however when the decomposing arm of Illya got progressively worse and Indika had to cut it off to save him. Once Illya realized that Indika cut his arm off, he was furious and decided to go find the Kudets alone. He believed he was special and the Kudets would allow God to perform a miracle and heal his arm. Because of this he thought Indika was jealous and did not want him to witness the miracle, even though she only tried to save his life.

They eventually reunited and finally managed to find the Kudets. It was a jeweled crown in a cathedral. The priest would not let them near it and in a scuffle he was shot and killed by one of his own guards. Illya ran away with the Kudets and Indika was captured by one of the guards.

She was taken to the gallows where was going to hanged for the murder of a priest. In an effort to save herself she decided to pay the jailer for her release with a sexual favor. When she was getting raped she spoke to the devil in her head who made her realize that god and the devil are only with her own mind, one cannot exist without the other. She managed to trap the jailer by throwing a cupboard on top of him and escape.

In the finale she reunites with Illya who seemed to have been wandering the streets as a lost cause. He sold the Kudets to a pawn shop as it did not perform a miracle. Indika visited the pawn shop and prayed to the Kudets herself in a effort to rid her of the devil but by that time she had already realized that it was all in her head. At the end when she looked at the mirror, she did not see the devil, rather she saw her own reflection.

Thoughts

Indika tells the story a young girl who did not have a direction in life. Just like every child she was not religious but was made to be one. She suffered from schizophrenia but people made her believe it was the devil whispering to her. Throughout her journey there were many events which made her question her faith but she never strayed from her path as she wanted to be a good nun. In the finale, when she stops seeing herself as the devil in her own reflection, the game leaves it for the player to determine if the Kudets actually rid her of the devil, or she realized that it's all a charade and stopped having faith.

[ncfan-1]

Okay, the Osha-Qimir dynamic is genuinely quite interesting, but I don’t think I’ve fully articulated just why it is that it’s the Mae-Sol dynamic that makes me insane, so leading up towards the S1 finale, I guess it’s time to share with the class.

If you want to call Sol’s feelings for Osha a fixation, then you can’t deny that he’s just as fixated on Mae. What happened on Brendok is still so front of mind for Sol sixteen years after the fact that little kids in his class are seeing fire when they close their eyes. It bleeds out of him, drop by drop by drop. He’s spent every day for sixteen years thinking about Mae. He thinks she’s dead; he thinks that he as good as killed her himself. She haunts him, she lives rent-free in his head, and learning that she’s still alive brings him no relief because Mae’s just found new ways to haunt him now, his guilt has taken on a new form and grown a new head and even though she survived after all and he didn’t kill her sixteen years ago after all he still can’t make it right, he can’t free himself of this guilt, or shake her loose from the spot where she sits in the front of his mind, where he thinks about her every day.

And you know that Mae has spent every day thinking about Sol, too. This man who killed her mother and took her sister away. This man who came with a team that killed her family and destroyed her life. This man who snuffed out her innocence when he impaled her mother right in front of her. This man who let her fall to what so easily could have been her death. If Sol has been haunted by Mae for sixteen years, then the reverse must also be true; so, too, has Mae been haunted.

Sol has spent sixteen years living a lie. He’s spent sixteen years lying to everyone that he didn’t kill Mother Aniseya, that he and his team didn’t kill all the adults of the Brendok Coven between them, that he didn’t consciously let Mae fall, that it was Mae who was to blame. He’s spent sixteen years pretending that he’s okay, that he isn’t wracked with guilt, that he isn’t a deeply fucked-up man, that he isn’t haunted.

And then, at the end of Episode Six, when it’s just him and Mae alone, no witnesses, he shows a considerably different face to her than what he’s shown to everyone else, and I do think he’s breaking down, but it also feels like he’s just let the mask drop. For everyone else, Sol has to pretend. He’s terrified of losing Osha’s love, so for her he has to pretend that he’s okay, that nothing is wrong, that he doesn’t have her mother’s blood on his hands, that he hasn’t been lying to her all this time. For the other Jedi, Sol has to pretend that he has no dark secrets, that he isn’t a murderer, that he hasn’t been lying to all of them for sixteen years about what happened on Brendok. There must be a part of him that feels like a fraud, like everything he’s built for himself is nothing that he actually deserves because the only reason he’s been allowed to have any of it is because he lied about what happened on Brendok. That the only reason he’s been allowed to remain a Jedi is because he lied about what happened, because he would likely have been expelled if he had ever confessed the truth of what happened. And for Qimir, who possibly does know but who is no friend to Sol, Sol still has to pretend, because if he doesn’t then Qimir can push his buttons with impunity, can push him to a place where there is quite possibly no returning from.

But with Mae, Sol doesn’t have to pretend. Mae is the only person that Sol doesn’t have to pretend with. He doesn’t have to pretend to be okay. He doesn’t have to pretend that he has no dark secrets, that he has no blood on his hands. He doesn’t have to pretend that he isn’t wracked with guilt, that he isn’t a murderer, that he isn’t haunted. She is the only person alive whom he can be totally and completely honest with, because she knows what he did. She watched him do it. She knows how bad it can get with him, and he doesn’t have to be afraid of losing her love like he is with Osha because he knows that Mae has never loved him to begin with. The closing moments of Episode 6 are ominous, sure, but do you suppose that on some level, Sol is relieved that it’s Mae? That he can finally put aside the mask of a man who has no face but the kindly teacher the rest of the galaxy knows and be completely honest about himself with her?

No one knows the truth about Mae but Sol. No one appreciates how much pain she is in but Sol. If anyone else thinks that she’s suffering, they scorn her as the sole author of her own suffering. Sol is the only person alive who has any faith in Mae, who tries to tell others to believe in her, who knows that she is capable of good, who is capable of understanding that love is more important to her than hate. Sol is the only person alive besides possibly Qimir, who has no motivation to intercede on Mae’s behalf, who knows that the fire Mae set was an accident, that she tried to make it right, that she didn’t kill her mother, that she didn’t kill the other adults of her family, that she didn’t try to kill her sister. That she was innocent.

But it’s not an accident that they’re the only people who know these things about each other. It’s not an accident that they’re the only people who know the truth about each other. It’s not an accident at all. They are the people who have ensured that they are the only ones who understand the other like this.

Mae is the only one who knows these things about Sol because she set out on a quest for revenge that saw Sol’s teammates from Brendok dead. Indara is the only one Mae actually killed, but would Sol really be willing to split hairs about Torbin like that, and would Mae even bother trying to defend herself where the charge of killing Kelnacca is concerned? After all, from Mae’s perspective, who would ever believe her? No one ever believes in her innocence. Who would ever believe her?

Sol might. At this point, Sol is probably the only person in the galaxy who would believe her. Sol is the only one who knows that Mae is innocent of the deaths of her family. After all, he told the galaxy a lie that Mae was the one who killed her family. Indara came up with the lie, but Sol was the one who told it. He told everyone that Mae was a mass-murderer. Sol is the only person who understands that Mae is capable of good because he told everyone that she that did something so monstrous that no one else would ever believe her capable of good.

It just makes you want to crawl on the ceiling, doesn’t it? You are the only person I don’t have to pretend to be okay around. You are the only person who knows that there is anything to me except violence. Because you were involved in the deaths of everyone else who knows what I did. Because you told the galaxy a lie that painted me as a monster.

So now Sol is the only person who really seems to truly care when Mae is or might be in danger. So now Mae is the only person who grasps what’s going on in Sol’s mind when he has those moments where the darkness starts to bleed out a little into his stance, his face, his words.

He thinks about her every day. Out of this unhealthy fixation, out of this guilt-stricken devotion, he’s carved a hollow spot in his mind and she lives there, and hasn’t left for sixteen years, returning to haunt his waking moments. She thinks about him every day. Out of this unhealthy fixation, out of fear and out of grief for what she has lost, she’s carved a hollow spot in her mind and he lives there, and hasn’t left for sixteen years, returning to haunt her fiery nightmares.

There’s a trail of blood linking them together. They’re stuck together by blood. They’re stuck together by things that only they know. Whether what emerges of their interactions in Episode 8 is toxic or transformative, it will probably still make me want to punch a hole in the wall. What do you expect me to do when you show me two characters who are completely haunted by each other?

[crazycoke-addict]

The Character Assassination of Jaime Lannister

I've been thinking a lot about Game of Thrones and, more specifically, one of my favourite characters, Jaime Lannister. Jaime Lannister is a character whom you aren't fond of. He has an incestuous relationship with his sister, Cersei. He is rude to people whom he comes across like Ned Stark, and he has an arrogance to him. However, as the book progresses, you'll notice another side that he doesn't show because he plays a part. He is dubbed as the kingslayer for murdering King Aerys II Targaryen, where we later find out, he did it because King Aerys was going to burn down kingslanding killing innocent people in the process.

The show seems to be on the right check to make Jaime Lannister's redemption arc to be the best redemption arc you follow. While they did end up ruining it by making him return to Cersei. There's one specific scene that definitely ruins any growth we had on Jaime, and that is the rape scene between Jaime and Cersei.

In Season 4 Episode 3 "Breaker of Chains," Jaime forces himself on Cersei in front of their son, Joffrey’s corpse. During the scene, Cersei says no, and it's not right multiple times. Now, what's so upsetting about this is that in the books, it is all consensual. I think they changed it because Cersei is a bit more level-headed in the show, and yet it completely ruins and assassinated the character of Jaime Lannister.

In the aftermath, it doesn't really do anything for their characters going forward. The reason why I feel so disingenuous and disrespectful to Jaime Lannister is because throughout his POVs, he is shown to have guilt and a soft spot for women who have experienced with rape whether it happened with a random stranger or their husband.

When Jaime became a member of the Kingsguard. He witnessed a lot of horrific things that King Aerys did, and the one that Jaime haunts the most is how he felt so defenceless when hearing King Aerys abuse and rape his wife, Queen Rhaella. Jaime was so confused and empathetic because, as a member of the Kingsguard, you are sworn to protect the Queen as well, but because there's hierarchy. The King is allowed to get away with abusing the Queen.

Jaime is also haunted by what happened to Elia Martell. At one part, in the books. Jaime has a dream where he visited by Rhaegar Targaryen, who was married to Elia Martell. Dream Rhaegar blames Jaime for leaving Elia and her children defenceless when the mountain killed the children and Elia as well as raped her. Which was ordered by Jaime's father, Tywin Lannister. However, it's not Jaime's fault even though he believes it is. Jaime wishes that he was there since The Mountain wouldn't be able to kill Jaime unless Tywin says so. Jaime couldn't disobey the king's order.

Another victim that Jaime felt that he failed is Tysha. Tysha was Tyrion's first wife and first love. When their father, Tywin, found out about it. He had his guards raped Tysha while making Tyrion watch. After that, he had the guards paid her in silver coins. Throughout his life, Tyrion believe that Tysha was just a whore only didn't really loved him and just wanted his gold. It's not until after Jaime helped Tyrion that he decided to tell him the truth about Tysha.

This dark secret felt like a heavy weight that Jaime had to carry throughout his life, and It's one of most traumatic things that Tyrion had to experience . Not to mention, Tysha is another victim that Jaime felt he failed. After telling Tyrion and the two have a falling out. Jaime decides to go to Riverlanda and try to be a noble and just person.

At one part, he saved a girl named Pia from being raped by one of the mountain's men by ordering Ser Ilyn Payne to chop the man's head off. Jaime noticed his squire seems to like the girl, so Jaime encouraged him to take Pia as a lover by being kind and gentle to her. The squire name is Josmyn Peckledon, who is known to have good martial instincts, meaning that Pia will be in good hands and protected.

Another character he saved from being raped even though they start off on the wrong foot is Brienne of Tarth. During that time, him and Brienna disliked each other. It's possible that he was having flashbacks of Rhaella Targaryen, Elia Martell, and Tysha. How they were raped by powerful men and how he believed he failed them.

The raped scene shouldn't have been made because it's assassinates the character of Jaime and his redemption arc.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Stolen

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, mentions of murder/torture, angst, cursing, this one actually does use the ‘insert name’ thing just b/c it made writing certain parts easier

Word Count: 4,423

Summary: You were an imposter. You were desperate. You were trapped with no other way out. The fact of the matter was, you hadn’t been born with words on your skin, but now you were wearing the words of a dead girl. How far would you go to save someone you loved?

The room was cold. Not a subtle cold that brushed against you leaving goose bumps against every inch of your exposed skin, no, it was a deep, painful kind of cold. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones and penetrated your soul. The type you felt you’d never escape.

Even if you could get through the concrete levels that were built like a maze or the guards with guns around every corner, even if you reached that fresh air outside the compound, did you deserve to escape? After selling your soul to the devil, did you still deserve freedom?

The door across from the table where you sat opened and the devil himself strolled through with a grin on his face. His blond hair was always slicked back without a strand out of place, his cold blue eyes made the room seem even colder now, and the stupid, smug grin made your skin crawl with unease.

“Good morning, kiddo. Did you have a good night? Enough time to think on your decision?” Dr. Anderson asked in a warm voice. The word decision was ridiculous. You had no decision. Him and every other person in this complex who wore that badge, the one with the weird red skull octopus hybrid, had taken that decision away from you two days ago when they dragged you in here. You didn’t reply to him and lowered your gaze to a spot on the metal table your arms were leaning against. If the table wasn’t there you probably would’ve slumped to the ground into a pile of nothing by now. “You seem rather quiet, my dear. You were so vocal before. I must say, I think I miss that dry wit.”

“Is she ok?” You spoke, but your voice was hoarse and broken.

“Of course.” He said with a brief shake of his head, “I would never lie to you.”

You bit back any reply that came to mind. Anything you said or did at this point could affect her and that was something you couldn’t risk. So instead of calling Dr. Anderson on his bullshit, you nodded, “So how does this work then?”

His grin morphed into a sinister smirk as he took the seat across from you, “You needn’t worry at all. We’ve done this operation dozens of time—”

“How many of them survived?”

His smirk faltered and you immediately regretted opening your mouth and asking anything at all. Dr. Anderson cleared his throat, “You’re right. There have been no survivors, but I’m very hopeful with you. You’re the 11th woman.” This man had played a hand in murdering ten other women, but he wasn’t even batting an eye at this. “You know what they say, right? 11th time’s the charm?”

Dr. Anderson laughed at his own joke, but you didn’t find much humor in what he said. What he was doing here was ungodly. It was an act against nature to toy with something so simple and beautiful, something so pure and untouched by man.

“Why are you doing this?”

“We worked though all the kinks, and you could not be a more perfect specimen for this procedure.” Dr. Anderson ignored your question entirely, “We needed someone with an extremely similar genetic sequence. Perfect is impossible in this scenario, but the moment I saw you I just knew.” He dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a small picture. He slid it across the table to you with a nod, “Just look, the two of you could be sisters. Granted, the age difference worried us for a bit of time, but it shouldn’t throw things off too badly. You’re only six years apart from her.”

Your eyes darted down to the picture in front of you. As much as you’ve heard about this woman, this was the first time you were actually seeing her. The picture was taken without the woman knowing, and you did look scarily like her. You had the same type of hair, the same colored eyes, the same skin tone, the same body shape, and even a similar facial structure. From a distance, the two of you might have been mistaken as the same person, maybe an older version of yourself, but you could see the differences.

Her smile was so much softer than you ever hoped yours could look. Most pictures of you, your lips always twitched higher on one side than the other when you grinned and nobody would ever describe your eyes as kind, you thought. Not like this woman. She radiated gentleness.

“Why are you doing this?” You pushed the picture back at him. Why the hell would you want to look at a picture of a dead woman any longer?

“The surgery should take only three hours or so. You’ll be extremely sore afterwards and there may be some other symptoms we’re unaware of but—”

“Why are you doing this!?” You shouted and slammed your hands against the table. “Why!?”

Dr. Anderson leaned back in his chair at your explosion. He blinked once before rubbing his mouth and standing up. Slowly, he walked around the table until he stood right beside you. He leaned against the table and rapped his knuckles against the metal in front of you.

“That question isn’t important, kiddo. You need to focus on the questions that are important.” He reached out and you flinched in response. Dr. Anderson didn’t stop though, he brushed his fingers against your cheekbone. He trailed his fingers down your neck until his hand rested on your shoulder, “Do you know what questions are important right now?”

Your jaw clenched and your words came out in a whimper, “Please don’t.”

“Do you love your best friend?” He asked in a low voice. If you clenched your teeth together any harder they’d crack. “Do you want her to hurt? I personally don’t want to cause her harm, but there are plenty of other HYDRA agents who would happily do so.” You could feel your eyes begin to water, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of watching you break. “Do you want her to die? Do you want that blood on your hands? Her blood?”

You shook your head and despite trying your hardest to keep your voice steady, it cracked with your words, “N—No. Please just…just leave her alone. I’ll do anything, okay? Just leave her alone.”

“I will, kiddo. I will.” He said reassuringly, “I am a man of my word and we made a deal, did we not? I promised not to harm a hair on your friend’s head, and you promised to help me destroy Tony Stark.”

Everything around you was dark. All you could see was the mist that swirled around your body. You couldn’t tell up from down or left from right. It was like you were drifting in space. The last thing you remembered was lying on that cold surgical table as tears leaked from your eyes and streaked down to your ears. Were you in surgery right now? That couldn’t be right. You had your tonsils removed in elementary school and you specifically remembered not experiencing anything like this. It had been like you blinked and suddenly it was all over. This was something else altogether.

“If you had her here, why didn’t you just use her? Why go through all the trouble of kidnapping women and killing them?” It was your words echoing around you.

“Simple. She refused. No matter what we did, no matter what we offered, no matter how long we tortured her… She refused to betray her soulmate.” Dr. Anderson’s voice followed your own and if your mind wasn’t filled with so much fog then you would’ve cringed. You vaguely remembered this conversation. But when did it happen?

“You see, kiddo.” The longer he spoke the more you wished silence would return. Had this conversation taken place yesterday? That didn’t sound right. “She hasn’t even met her soulmate yet. She knows it was supposed to be Tony Stark, his name was written on her damn body, but she refused to seek him out. She was always just waiting. Waiting for him to find her. She’s been waiting her whole life, and I thought maybe she would’ve gotten tired of it. Maybe she’d do what I asked of her. Money can buy many things.”

“She wouldn’t give up Tony Stark.”

“She wouldn’t budge an inch. You see, these soul marks do something strange to humans. They start to think that they have this incredible connection with their ‘soulmate’, as if there is this tangible bond between two people. It’s ridiculous.”

“What are you saying?”

“Oh, you know. You’re like me and millions of other people on this planet. We never received a soul mark as a child. We grew with no mark on our skin to cloud our minds. These soul marks are foolish. The only connection there is, is made by social construct. Society says a soul mark is perfect, a soul mark leads to a happy ending, but it’s not actually true. It’s just their minds building a new reality for them to accept.”

“So, you killed her. She believed in her soul mark, refused to hurt her soulmate, so you killed her and stole the one thing she thought was worth dying for.”

“Yes. Yes, I did.”

Right before surgery, that’s when the conversation took place. You could recall it now. The fog in your mind wasn’t so heavy anymore. Did that mean you were going to wake up soon? God, maybe you were already dead.

The feeling of drifting disappeared, and it felt like your feet were planted in solid ground. Around you was still dark, but you could see yourself. There was a reflection in front of you, but you couldn’t see where the edge of the mirror began or ended.

“A soul mark is so much more than a social construct.”

It sounded like your voice, but you didn’t remember saying those words. Why would you? The entire concept was the one thing you slightly agreed on when it came to this hellish nightmare. People said it was just you being bitter because you didn’t have a soul mark of your own, but to be honest the entire concept just didn’t make sense to you. A permanent mark on your skin that gave you a peek into the future? The first sentence your supposed soulmate would ever speak to you? You had many friends with soul marks. You’ve seen big ones where the sentence took up all of the person’s arm, or torso, or leg. You’ve seen small, one worded sentences hidden behind ears or written along hips. Every mark seemed to be written in some different font. Sometimes they were elegant and neat, other times they were sloppy and rushed. Never had you ever felt jealous of someone with a mark though. It made the future seem too planned. You didn’t like the idea of fate telling you what your future entailed.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

There were your words again, but you didn’t remember ever speaking them. You lifted a hand to press against the cold mirror, but your palm pressed against the warm palm of your reflection.

Your surprised eyes met the kind ones in front of you as the reflection began to speak, and begged, “Please don’t hurt him. Please don’t hurt my Tony.”

It took an entire month for you to recover. The side effects of the surgery were more than any of the HYDRA scientists expected. For the first week, you just laid in bed unwilling to move. It felt like every internal organ had been rubbed with sandpaper, your skin was on fire, and something deep inside you just ached. Nobody would explain exactly what they did to you in that surgery, and for the first three weeks they wouldn’t let you look under the white bandage wrapped around your torso.

It took another month after that for them to teach you exactly what they wanted you to do. They trained you in the basics, punishing you for every move you did wrong, then taught you their plan in vivid detail. They had everything set out for you, they were setting up the lie you were going to have to live if you wanted your best friend to be safe.

By time the third month rolled around, you were finally allowed back out into the real world. You were living in New York now in the same apartment she did. You were being forced to live her life as if she wasn’t gone from the world. Apparently, luck had been on HYDRA’s side when they kidnapped her. She had been a bit of a loner with no family, no close friends, and no real connections. It was almost too easy for them to cut her out and slip you in. They changed some documents, and changed some pictures, and suddenly Penelope Smith no longer existed. Now it was just [Name] [Surname]. They had somehow managed to make your life and hers flow into one. Some parts of the history were truly yours and some parts were entirely hers.

They made sure you knew every detail of it though over that month of training. Your name was the same and so was your birthday. A lot of the early stuff was easy because it was the truth. It verged away from only you around the time of college. Now, according to all the files, you had a different undergraduate degree and worked as a journalist. Of course, they made it look like you had recently quit your job since you couldn’t show up one day as Penelope.

“Penelope Smith doesn’t exist.” You whispered to yourself as you stared into her mirror in what used to be her bathroom. You pulled off your sleep shirt and let your eyes trace over the mark against your rib cage. It was a shade darker than your skin, making it look more like a birthmark than a tattoo. The words ‘Before you ask, yes, I am the Tony Stark’, were scrawled in small words across your ribs in a messy font. That entire area of skin felt numb to you. No matter how much you traced your finger over it or applied pressure, it was like there was nothing there. “Penelope Smith doesn’t exist. Now there’s only me.”

You rushed out of your bathroom, topless, to get ready for the day before the reflection in the mirror could tell you otherwise.

For the most part, your days were boring. HYDRA didn’t want you to stray too far from the usual path that Penelope took everyday because they worried Tony Stark would never run into you or worse the two of you would meet at the wrong time and you wouldn’t be able to say the right words. For a group of scientists that kept preaching how they didn’t believe in fate and soulmates, they were relying a whole lot on coincidence.

You followed their instructions though. In the mornings, you worked out at the gym Penelope usually went to. In the afternoon, you sat in a coffee shop and surfed the Internet since you weren’t actually a journalist despite what the files said. In the evenings, you took long walks around the city usually on a path that conveniently passed the famous Avengers tower often. Then at night, before you fell asleep, you’d text Dr. Anderson and tell him that you hadn’t met Tony Stark yet. Another day was gone, and you prayed he didn’t reply with a threat toward your best friend. It was hardly your fault that fate didn’t want to cooperate. Maybe fate was too smart for all of you. It knew you weren’t really Penelope Smith and didn’t want you anywhere near Tony Stark.

“One venti iced mocha.” You ordered out of habit. Before the barista could list off the price, you were already digging out the right amount. You had been here enough times to know the exact price of things after tax. The only reason your coffee wasn’t already made and ready for you at this time was because today it was a new barista.

After getting your drink, you sat down at a small table by the window in a seat that gave you a view of the entire café. The cold drink in your hand was just a reminder that something wasn’t right with you anymore. You sat in your seat staring at the large coffee and trying your damn hardest not to start drinking it. Before all of this happened, you hated cold coffee. You liked hot drinks and teas that were strong and not very sweet. Now though, you couldn’t stand any coffee that wasn’t poured over ice and if it didn’t have some form of sugar or chocolate in it it tasted wrong.

That wasn’t where the changes ended either. Your taste in music was different. You hated lifting weights now and preferred running. You liked rainy days more than sunny weather, and [your favorite food] tasted bitter on your tongue. Despite the mantra you whispered to yourself every morning, sometimes you worried that Penelope Smith wasn’t entirely gone, and that maybe you weren’t entirely [Name] [Surname] anymore.

An hour had passed in that coffee shop and it felt the same as any other day you had been in here. There was only a sip of coffee left in your cup, but you still planned to stay for another hour at the least. Luckily, your favorite barista had come in and she’d probably have a new drink ready for you the moment you stood up to throw your current one away. The chime on the door went off as you scrolled through random news articles. Typically, the door chimed every other minute or so as New Yorkers rushed in for their coffee fix, but something made you glance up from your computer screen to look. The moment your eyes lifted, you saw him.

He strolled in like he owned the place wearing a crisp, dark suit and red tinted sunglasses over his eyes. You weren’t the only one to notice him walk in and the people around him were beginning to react by asking for autographs and pictures. Why wouldn’t they? He was fucking Iron Man after all.

You had imagined this moment for a long time. You practiced the words they had given you to say over and over in your mind because you knew you had to be perfect. A part of you had been excited for him to one day show up just because it meant you would be one step closer to being done with all this, but as you stared at him from across the room all you felt was dread.

Tony Stark was here in this small Starbucks that seemed almost out of the way for a guy like him. He was talking to a young boy while signing a picture for a young woman. You swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat and steeled yourself for what was to come. HYDRA didn’t just want you to murder Tony Stark in his sleep or something like that. No, they wanted you to get close. They wanted you to get him wrapped around your finger so you could absorb every ounce of information he was able to give. Then when they had everything they needed, they wanted you to destroy him in every way you could. Emotionally, mentally, and maybe at the end physically. What they wanted you to do to him was horrible. They already murdered his true soulmate and replaced her with you, and now this? Just thinking about it was making you feel like the scum of the earth, but this was about more than just you. This was for your best friend. The only family you really had. You would walk into traffic for her, you would tear yourself apart for her. There was nothing you wouldn’t do for her and this was on that list.

Besides, Tony Stark wasn’t that great of a guy. Sure, maybe he really was a superhero. He had saved all of New York from being blown to nothing by a nuke when aliens attacked a year ago, but so what? You tried to remind yourself of all the horrible things you had read about him. Even if it had been in his past and even if maybe he had grown beyond it, you forced yourself to think of every negative article on him. The only way you were going to get through this was if you convinced yourself that this was not a good man. That maybe he deserved something like this. How many hearts had he crushed over the years? How many women had he slept with and left behind like they were nothing? How many families overseas suffered at the hands of his weapons?

You took a deep breath and continued to mentally list every sin the Merchant of Death committed even though it made your stomach feel like it was filled with lead. A few minutes had passed with you being unable to tear your eyes away. He ordered something, making the barista laugh, and turned to wait for his drink. He looked just like he did in every magazine and interview. His dark hair was shorter now, cut closer to the sides, but his signature goatee and smirk remained the same. He had taken off his sunglasses sometime while he was ordering and now you could see his dark brown eyes.

Suddenly, those eyes darted away from his phone and shot up to look straight at you. The moment his gaze locked with yours it felt like someone had put electricity in your veins. You tore your eyes away and instead stared at the computer screen in front of you as you tried to calm your racing heart. This was the last way you expected to react, but maybe this reaction wasn’t entirely your own.

“He’s here.” Your voice again, echoing in the back of your mind, but it was the same soft tone that you knew didn’t really belong to you. It was a whisper, a thought, but you were positive that thought didn’t belong to you.

The patch of skin against your left rib cage, the area that was numb to everything, began to tingle as it came to life. You lifted your hand to feel it, but still you couldn’t feel the pressure of your fingers against the area through your shirt. All that was there was the fire that danced across your skin.

You had been so ready to go through with it, but now all you wanted to do was run out. This was a mistake. You didn’t want to be here, you didn’t want to do this. All that steeling you had done was gone and now you just felt like a scared little girl. Slowly, you turned off your laptop and began to pack it up, but once it was all put away you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up and sprint out. Your feet were glued to the floor and your ass was stuck in that chair.

After a one more second of panic, you forced yourself to look up again and realized that had been the worst mistake of your life. He was walking over now, with a grin and coffee in hand. He was getting closer by the second, but you couldn’t seem to look away. The words on your chest were burning hotter now as your heart pounded in your chest. How could one person be so excited and so fearful at the same time?

Tony Stark stopped by your table with a smirk. Your mouth fell open slightly and he spoke confidently, “Before you ask, yes, I am the Tony Stark.” You had read those words over and over and over yet hearing them said out loud was an entirely different experience. He nodded toward the chair across from you, “You’re not waiting here for anybody are you?”

This was it. This was what HYDRA had spent a month drilling into your head. You knew exactly what you needed to say. The only question was would you do it? You wanted to keep your best friend safe more than anything else in the world. That was something you had never doubted, but now? There was something in you that was screaming for you to leave. He didn’t deserve what HYDRA had planned for him. Penelope didn’t deserve this. Nobody did.

You could say something else. You could excuse yourself and leave and Tony Stark would never know the truth.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

You didn’t want to hurt him. You truly didn’t, but the thought of HYDRA getting their slimy hands on your friend made every other thought in your mind disappear. So, you put a grin on your face that you knew looked more like one of your smirks rather than one of Penelope’s soft smiles, and you prayed that this man wouldn’t be able to see your panic, fear, and doubt.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”

There was a pause, a moment of shock where his smirk fell, and he looked almost blank faced. Then, gradually, a new smile replaced it and it was one you hadn’t ever seen on the cover of any magazine or television interview. It was warm and welcoming and excited. It reached his bright eyes and it made him look years younger. He dropped down into the chair across from you and just stared at you.

“Did I leave the Tony Stark speechless?” These were your own words. From here on out you had only yourself to count on. There were no more peeks into the future you could use to guide you from here.

Tony let out a chuckle as he glanced down at the table. He rubbed his jawline and let his eyes lift back to yours and a warm comforting feeling filled your chest. Tony Stark was looking at you like you were a work of art. He looked at you as if he had finally found home and for one brief moment, you forgot that Penelope Smith didn’t exist and that you were [Name] [Surname]. You forgot because in that instant, you were just his soul mate and it felt like everything was going to be all right.

[next chapter]