#you meet the guy who his mind was shaped out of. the guy who tortured him. the guy who's responsible for all of this.

[leonardalphachurch]

hey ppl who write "tucker time travels back to pfl" aus. do you have tucker and the director have a relationship. bc like. thats church. like hes not church but hes. hes church. does the director find him annoyingly charming. does tucker recognize parts of his best friend in this awful man and find himself drawn to him despite himself. does he see what church could have been. does he see who church was. does he see who church is

[ss-tier-simp]

"mine" - bucky barnes x f!reader

Summary: Bucky is getting a little anxious to show you are his.

Warnings: angsty in the beginning (mentions of war and death) and then BAM here comes the smut. Bucky has a bit of a marking kink, there is a hint of cockwarming, p in v penetration, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) . This is NSFW and contains +18 content, so MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

A/Ν: This is my first time dipping my toes in +18 territory, so I hope you guys enjoy it. Any mistakes made are my own, as it is unbetad and english is not my first language.

The world was a cruel place. He saw it in Brooklyn while his mother barely made meets end, just to put food on the table for his sister and him.

He saw it in the trenches of war as men, both friends and foe alike fell to their untimely demise, without a trace remaining to be sent back to their folks.

The world's cruelty was marred into his skin, wounds that never properly healed, aching. A constant reminder of what exactly was taken away from him. Memories of a past he desperately tried to forget always haunted him, never giving him much-needed peace.

It took his family away from him, his friends, his innocence, his sanity, his arm.

And it kept taking.

And taking.

The world has helped form and shape him into the man he is. A man who put a stake in things he found precious in this unfamiliar era, refusing to let the world take them away from him.

One of his most precious things was you. A fact that he was proud to show off to the world with the marks he was now sucking into the delicate skin of your throat. A brand that reminded everyone that you belonged with him.

"Bucky!" you whined as you felt his lips sucking another mark. The feel of his tongue laving against the delicate skin of your throat made your pussy clench around him.

Your chest heaved against his, trying its best to bring in the oxygen your body desperately needed. You felt lightheaded. The heat and the closeness of your bodies brought out a neediness in you.

Friction. You needed friction. You needed to feel him move. Yet the unrelenting grip he had on your hips rendered any attempt to grind against his lap futile. He got you where he wanted. Panting, moaning, writhing. Wanting.

Your hand made a beautiful trip, mapping the taut muscles of his back before it reached its destination. It found the locks of his brown hair and yanked just enough for his lips to abandon their task and force his eyes onto your pleading ones.

"Bucky, please!" you gasped, your eyes blurry with tears at the delicious torture that Bucky had subjected you to. His metal hand left its place on your hips to caress your cheek and wipe the tear that threatened to spill.

"Please, what?" his tone was taunting, but you paid it no mind.

"Bucky, please move!" the words tumbled out of your mouth, not caring about how desperate you sounded.

"Whatever my pretty girl wants." both of his hands were on your hips again. A shiver went down your body at the loss of his body heat. He straightened his body putting more weight on his legs, in favor of watching your pussy clench and weep around him.

You almost sobbed in relief when you felt his hips finally move, the slow drag of his cock stealing any coherent thought in your mind.

He moved his cock from your deepest parts, feeling your pussy tighten around him as if she was afraid that he would abandon her, leave her high and dry. He let his thrusts be shallow, the head of his cock bullying a spot in you that had your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

He indulged in the sounds that left your mouth, the intense heat of your pussy that sucked him in greedily, the way your back arched against the mattress.

"B-Bucky." you started but another shallow thrust managed to rob you of your words and instead replaced them with loud moans.

"What pretty girl?" Bucky couldn't help but grin at you, loving the way he reduced you to a babbling mess.

"P-please Bucky." you started again. "Please, move."

"Move?" he questioned, his thrust continuing to punch at that special spot inside you. "I'm moving baby. What do you want? Are you going to use your big girl words?"

"Want more Bucky." you sobbed. "Want it harder, want it deeper. Please Bucky, please!"

His hands found the back of your knees, as quickly as the words left your mouth, bringing them towards your chest. "Keep them there for me." His tone was firm, a demand you were more than glad to fulfill.

When you did just that, he found support on the mattress putting once again more of his body weight on you and then finally his cock found its home at your deepest part.

The pleasure robbed you of your voice, your mouth stuck in a silent scream. His strokes were deep, showing off the strength that he hid whenever he touched you. Every time he filled you to the brim. The coarse patch of hair ground against your clit giving you that extra shot of delicious pleasure.

Your moans, his grunts, the slap of skin against skin, and the squeaking of the mattress that you had to get rid of, filled the room building a beautiful harmony. A crescendo that built until it reached its climax.

"I-I'm cumming." you gasped. "Fuck, I am cumming."

"I'm close too," Bucky said. "cum for me, baby."

The tightening of your walls was the only answer he received as the pleasure got too much, your body jerking before going still as you fell off the edge into one of the most mind-blowing orgasms.

The vice-like grip of your heat as it spasmed around him was enough to set off his own orgasm, losing the tempo that he had set, and he buried himself  close as it was humanly possible.

You felt his cock pulse as he spilled inside you. An overwhelming sensation that seemed to prolong your orgasm. Bucky dipped down his head, his urge to kiss you winning over every other instinct and your lips met into a messy kiss, as you both relished in the aftermath.

He let all of his weight on you and the wheezing laugh that escaped you interrupted your kiss. You let your knees fall and instead pushed against Bucky's chest, trying to get him off you.

"Bucky, you are heavy!" you complained as you laughed, a laugh Bucky mirrored before he rolled off you and onto his side.

You felt his eyes on you and you turned to see him staring at the marks he had left on your neck, proud of his handiwork.

"You have to stop giving me hickeys, " you declared, his eyes meeting yours, their disappointment evident. "They are a bitch to cover up, every time I go to work."

"Stop with the puppy eyes." you couldn't contain the laugh at the antics of a man who is supposed to be over one hundred years old.

"What about a compromise?" he offered and you looked at him quizically.

"How about I start leaving them in places, others could only hope to see." he continued and you snorted.

"Bucky Barnes, is this a possessiveness sort of thing?" you asked and he shrugged or at least he tried as he was still lying down.

"I like people knowing you are mine," he admitted. A smile bloomed on your face and you pecked his nose enjoying how his face scrunched up.

"Unbelievable, you possessive grumpy old man!" you started to rise from the bed, to head towards the bathroom. "How about you join me for a shower? We are both sweaty and yucky."

He followed suit, sneaking upon your retreating form to grab you and lift you in his arm, a squeal leaving you at the sudden loss of the floor from your feet.

"You know I've heard great things about fun time in the shower." He commented. You were in for a long night.

[acciotaitlynn]

mc using the boys as a rebound…I like angst plsplspls

I love u and hate u sm ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ srsly hurt myself so bad w this. not gonna feel better til i can hug zayne. i wasn't sure if u were requesting for all 4 guys at once, but i'm not the best at those yet, so i just drew 2 names for torture. i really hope it's angsty enoughh i tried ♡︎

જ⁀➴₊⊹ sylus‣you⌇zayne‣you

જ⁀➴₊⊹ 18+ sexual content. unprotected sex. p in da v. it sad i hate it

› 3,083 words

・・・・・​​⟢

When you walked in on Sylus kissing a woman who was definitely not you, you genuinely couldn’t believe it. His hand hovered suggestively over her lower back as she pulled him down to meet her height, their lips entwined in a moment that felt impossibly intimate. You stood frozen in the doorway, blinking rapidly, desperate to clear the shocking image from your mind. “What the fuck,” you murmured, your disbelief barely a whisper. But Sylus heard you. His head jerked up, shock and anger flaring across his face as he pushed the woman away, his words cutting through the air like ice. “Get out of my sight.”

She scurried from the room, but not before flicking you a smirk over her shoulder—a look that felt like a dagger to your heart. Sylus, for a brief moment, considered chasing after her to make her pay for her audacity. She had approached him under the pretense of discussing business at the party, but the shocking kiss had caught him off guard.

In that moment, he realized how it all appeared to you. He could see the betrayal, the hurt, in your wide eyes, and it stopped his breath. “Sylus…” you began, and he reached for you, desperation etched in his features. But you recoiled instinctively, pulling back from his outstretched hand. “Stay away from me,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with raw emotion, small yet powerful. You were surprised the words even made it out, given the pain that enveloped you like a storm. “I never want to see you again. And don’t send that damn bird to look after me either.” With that, you turned on your heel and fled, leaving him standing there—stunned and helpless, watching the door swing shut behind you.

Sylus watched you go, confusion swirling inside him. He had no idea why he didn’t chase after you. Part of him felt a simmering frustration—you always seemed so ready to expect the worst from him. “Why can’t you just trust me?” he muttered under his breath. But he let you leave.

He wouldn’t, however, heed your warning about keeping Mephisto away. The black crow, perched high above, fixed it’s red-eyed gaze on your retreating figure, a silent witness to your pain. As you raced toward Linkon City, you didn’t even have a destination in mind—just a frantic need to escape.

Tears streamed down your cheeks, blurring the world outside. The landscape whipped by, a wild mix of colors and shapes as your mind tried to process what had just unfolded. But then, a familiar sight broke through the fog of your thoughts: the bright sign of Akso Hospital loomed in the distance. You didn’t consciously remember the drive there; your feet seemed to know the way, driven by an instinctual pull. As you made your way through the halls, everything still felt like a blur. The world faded into a haze as you followed the path to Zayne’s office, moving quickly. You needed comfort, a sanctuary, from the only person in this world—besides Sylus—who could understand the storm inside you.

You barged into the office, your eyes wide and tears streaming down your cheeks. The moment Zayne saw you, he knew it had to do with Sylus—the man you chose over him just shy of a year ago.

Moving on from that breakup had been the hardest thing Zayne had ever faced. For what felt like forever, he struggled to be near you, consumed by the hurt you had caused. Desperately, you tried to console him, yearning to salvage your friendship. But Zayne was resolute. He wanted nothing to do with you or the criminal you had decided to build a life with.

Yet, you kept coming back, and little by little, the ice in Zayne’s heart began to thaw. He found himself aching for you again in a way that felt unbearable, and the days stretched endlessly without you. He longed for the days when anger was all he felt at the sight of you. That feeling was now a distant memory, easily overshadowed by the painful image of your heartbroken form before him.

In an instant, he reached for you, arms wrapping around your trembling figure. “It’s okay now, I’m here,” he murmured softly into your hair. The warmth in his voice only made you cry harder, gripping him as if he were your lifeline, burying your face in his neck. He held you close, offering a comforting embrace while you fought through the agony tearing your heart apart. His hand traced soothing circles on your back, gradually calming the storm of tears until you could speak and explain what happened.

“I know it was just a kiss, but… I really trusted him. Even when I knew I shouldn’t.” You leaned back, searching Zayne’s gaze, the weight of your words heavy between you. “I should have listened to you. I’m sorry.” At that moment, you couldn’t explain why you rose up to kiss him—was it to dull the pain or out of a desperate need to erase the hurt in his eyes? Maybe it was a mix of both, an overwhelming impulse that surged through you as you pulled him closer.

His body locked up, every part of him screaming to pull away. “The only way this ends is with your heart broken again,” echoed in his mind. Yet, he couldn’t resist the magnetic pull, pulling you closer instead, his tongue boldly exploring your mouth with a deep sigh.

He lifted you effortlessly, your legs wrapping around his waist as he locked the office door. With a gentle thud, he settled onto the couch, you straddling his lap, his hands tenderly cradling your face. His kisses were soft yet fervent, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and then trailing down the length of your neck. You closed your eyes, letting your hands roam over the familiar expanse of Zayne’s body. But then, a wave of disgust washed over you as you realized your thoughts were drifting elsewhere.

You couldn’t help but picture another pair of arms, the warmth of another skin beneath your fingers that felt more intoxicating than anything you’d ever known. “No,” you thought, pushing Sylus from your mind. The anger you directed at yourself was palpable. Here you were with Zayne, the one whose heart you shattered when you chose Sylus, and now you were using him to mend the wounds Sylus left behind. You were a horrible person. The absolute worst kind.

But as you fought to dispel the image of Sylus, you began to embrace Zayne’s touch. His warm lips and soft sighs were like a comforting aphrodisiac, enveloping you in a gentle familiarity. Slowly, you melted against him, surrendering to the sensations that began to overwhelm you. Your heartache slipped into the background, momentarily drowned out by the rush of desire ignited by Zayne’s touch.

Your fingers danced toward the hem of his shirt, your gaze locking onto his with a silent question. With a subtle nod, he allowed you to lift the fabric over his head. As your fingers traced the scars that adorned his skin, every touch, every kiss, every flick of your tongue, exorcised pieces of Zayne’s pain. But doubt gnawed at the edges of his mind. How could this possibly end well? Wouldn’t it inevitably lead to him being hurt? Deep down, he knew that if the choice came down to him or Sylus again, you would always choose the other man. A flicker of concern about Sylus crossed his mind—wouldn’t he object to Zayne’s hands on what he deemed “his?" But that only fueled Zayne’s desperation; you were his first, and he had every right to touch you if it was what you wanted.

His hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head to the side as he kissed you, nipped at your skin, trailing his mouth down your neck. Giggling and breathless, you ground against him, completely lost in the moment. Zayne could see from the look in your eyes that Sylus had vanished from your thoughts. In that intoxicating instant, there was only Zayne again, and he reveled in it. His mouth found the low neckline of your dress, his lips working to leave a mark on your soft skin. But the moment you realized his intent, your body tensed. You pushed him away with a gasp, whispering, “No.”

A low, rumbling chuckle filled the air, sending shivers down your spine. A familiar, oppressive energy seeped into the atmosphere, tendrils of red and black mist swirling around you, pulling you away from Zayne.

Zayne remained still, a calm, yet calculated expression on his face as he braced for what was about to unfold. The glare you shot Sylus burned with malice as the mist drew you closer to him, eventually dropping you unceremoniously at his feet. Sylus met your furious gaze, surprised by the intensity; it was as if the look alone could singe his skin.

He had been watching you from the moment you left him at the party, tracking every little thing through Mephisto’s camera feed—the touches, the sighs, the pieces of yourself you had offered back to the doctor without a second thought. Unprecedented anger simmered within him as he witnessed it all. He had only shared a simple, unwanted kiss with someone. And now you were out trying to rekindle something with your ex lover? That crossed a line, even for you.

As he watched you lean into Zayne’s caress, embracing the connection meant solely for him, Sylus felt the primal urge rise within him. The moment you banished him from your mind, losing yourself in the electrifying kisses Zayne placed on your tender neck, he snapped.

“I think you’ve had enough fun for one night, sweetie,” he declared, his voice sharp and devoid of its usual warmth. It dripped with an icy detachment that sent a chill spiraling down your spine, warning you that he was not to be trifled with. Sylus reserved that tone for moments when he was truly angry, and right now, he was seething. He turned that frigid voice on Zayne, head tilted, a sharp glint sparkling in his eyes. “Do you know why she wouldn’t allow you to mark her skin?” Zayne narrowed his gaze, the answer hovering on the edge of his consciousness—a truth he couldn’t escape since that gut-wrenching ‘no’ had slipped from your lips, tangled with the fear that etched across your face.

Sylus leaned in, his words dripping with venom, his power swelling in the room once more. This time, there was no mist, no visible signs of his evol, but it was palpable, wrapping around everyone in the room. “She knows she doesn’t belong to you. Even when she hates me, even when she seeks comfort in your arms—she will always be mine.” Remember this: there won’t be a next time."

With that, you were tossed over Sylus's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As you punched at his back, tears sprang to your eyes, fueled by the look of torment on Zayne’s face as the door to his office shut behind you. You should never have come here.

“Put me down, Sylus!” you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and desperation. He let out a sarcastic laugh, the chill of his tone cutting deeper. “It would be in your best interest to keep quiet, kitten.” Despite the icy facade, a hint of hurt laced his voice, squeezing your heart like a vice. This had all spiraled so far out of control. You shouldn’t have put him or Zayne through this turmoil.

Yet, guilt paled in comparison to the anger festering within you, the memory of him with that woman playing in vivid detail, stoking the fire of your rage. Sylus seemed to revel in your fury. He tossed you into the passenger seat and buckled you in with more force than necessary, a hint of satisfaction in his demeanor.

The car ride home was silent, tension crackling in the air. Sylus’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel as he fought to maintain his composure. You remained quiet, the weight of your thoughts pressing down on you. Stupid, arrogant prick, you thought, dragging you out Zayne’s office like you were nothing. The anger swirled within you, refusing to let go. You threw yourself back against the seat with an irritated huff, drawing an amused glance from Sylus. “You have nothing to be angry about,” he said, his tone teasing yet laced with a dark undertone. “You'll wish you’d know that before you ran off to your precious doctor.” His words sent a shiver down your spine. “Are you forgetting that I walked in on you with her tongue down your throat?” you shot back, voice low and fierce.

Sylus just chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled into the driveway, clearly unfazed. Your anger spiked when his evol took control again. The infuriating mist wrapped around you, dragging you up the stairs and tossing you onto the bed. Cold chains locked around your wrists—chains that typically thrilled you now only filled you with dread. This was bad. You’d never seen Sylus this furious. With each passing second, anxiety gnawed at you, and by the time the door swung open, you were near trembling.

Sylus stepped in, his gaze sweeping over you with a slow, deliberate smirk. “What’s this? Do I detect a hint of remorse in you, sweetie?” he teased, voice dripping with mockery. “I’m sure it’s only because you’re worried about what I might do to you.” Your heart raced as his crimson eyes bore into yours, holding an intensity that made it hard to breathe. You swallowed hard, your wide eyes searching his for any hint of his true intentions. But before you could speak, his lips crashed against yours, and his large hands gripped your face possessively, pulling you firmly against him.

The air was charged between you, a tension that felt almost palpable. Sylus’s lips traced a path down your neck, leaving your mouth to explore the delicate skin with an intensity that made your heart race.

He paused just above the faint mark Zayne had left, his warm breath brushing against it before his lips and teeth took over. Each kiss left a deeper bruise, a testament to his need to overwrite the other man's attempted claim.  When he finally pulled back for air, his expression had shifted. Gone was the anger; instead, his eyes mirrored a heartache that cut deeper than any physical wound. “She lured me into that room under the guise of discussing business for an upcoming auction,” Sylus confessed, his voice trembling slightly. “I didn’t kiss her back, nor did I want her disgusting hands on me. You have to believe me; I'd never do that to you, kitten.”

Tears filled your eyes, stinging as you absorbed the weight of his words and the raw sincerity behind them. The realization hit hard—this turmoil had all stemmed from your insecurities. “You could have let me explain myself, you know,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. There was a vulnerability in his eyes that made your heart ache. “I should have,” you replied, your tone gentle and full of regret. Before you could reach out for him, the chains binding you rattled loudly. In a swift motion, Sylus flicked his wrist, and they fell to the floor.

You wasted no time, cupping his face in your hands, desperate to soothe the hurt that marred his features. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him close. “That really hurt, kitten,” he admitted, his eyes squeezing shut as if the truth pained him more than any physical wound could. He buried his face against you, the weight of his confession hanging in the air between you. Opening up didn’t come easily to Sylus, but he needed you to understand the depth of his hurt—he wasn’t as heartless as you might have thought.

Everything inside you surged with the desire to ease his suffering, even if you couldn’t erase the hurt you’d inflicted on both him and Zayne. You guided him under you, straddling his lap, your lips finding his again. As your fingers wove through his hair, you poured all your remorse and affection into that kiss.

It was never difficult to show Sylus how much you loved him; your affection radiated from your very being. But tonight, you were determined to pour every ounce of your love into the moment. You gently guided his neck to kiss and lick every inch of him, leaving delicate marks along the way. Sylus melted under the weight of your adoration, his body going pliant as he let you head him wherever you desired.

His hands eventually found your hips, the gentle pressure of him grinding you against him setting a slow, intoxicating rhythm. You lost yourself in the softness of his beautiful lips, kissing him until they were swollen and slick, leaving him with a blissed-out expression reflected in his enchanting eyes. As he lifted his hips to let you free his length, you felt a spark of need ignite within you, the urgency to have him inside you overwhelming. Without hesitation, you aligned his thick tip with your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto him, inch by inch. Sylus gasped, a small, breathless noise escaping him as he watched the two of you become one.

His gaze was half lidded with lust, searching yours with an intensity that left you breathless. “I love you, Sy,” was a soft murmur in his ear as you felt him crush you against him with a deep groan. It was almost impossible to keep up with his movements now; pleasure consumed you as he thrust up into you without abandon. “I love you,” you whispered, again and again, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear gently.

Sylus’s response was primal—he crushed you to him, letting out a hoarse shout as hot ropes of his essence filled you, triggering an orgasm so intense it left your body quaking and trembling as waves of bliss washed over you, leaving you both breathless and whole.

As you both came down, wrapped in each other’s arms, soft whispers of love floated between you, binding you closer together.

In the distance, the flickering light of a hospital office turned off, and a doctor began his lonely walk home, painfully aware of the passion igniting in the world beyond.

​​・・・・・​​⟢

[qin-qin16]

Why I think Horror shouldn't be part of the Bad Sanses

[cw: Long yapping, i’m a mediocre fan of Horror and Dust, dadmare and bad sans poly fans this one isn't for you]

@howlsofbloodhounds @what-have-i-unleashed

note: If you disagree with me, feel free to discuss the matter! Just don't be rude and respect my views on this!

I might get torn apart by my mutuals for this, but... I don't think Horror should be part of the "Bad Sanses" (or the bad guys, as some people have referred to them), especially if we're talking about Nightmare as the “leader” of the group (more like a cult leader but whatever).

I'll clear up any confusion about MTT choosing to work for Nightmare – no, they wouldn't choose that. None of them would make such a foolish, dumb decision. They're all too clever to willingly serve someone as arrogant and cruel as Nightmare.

To support my point, I’d like to say that, in my opinion, it makes sense for both Killer and Dust to be manipulated by Nightmare. Killer’s situation is pretty clear – not only does his canon show that he’s forced to work for Nightmare, but his whole history with Chara makes him the perfect victim for Nightmare to shape to his own will. That being said, I won’t go into too much detail about their troubled and extremely toxic "relationship" (I’m using the word "relationship" here because there’s no better term for this situation that I can think of for now).

And what about Dust? Okay, confession time: I’ve never seen any canon facts about him. Don’t throw stones at me – I know my charm is being a mediocre fan of these multiversal skeletons.

Unlike Killer, Dust probably didn’t even realize he was being manipulated by the devil. He already knew all the possibilities of a reset, all the choices the human could make — so why not take the one time in life chance to escape that world and boost his LOVE? A little more LOVE would definitely put an end to the endless resets. With enough LOVE, the human could finally be defeated! All he needed to do was increase his LV just a bit more and then return to his world before the human reset.

But before he knew it, he was already trapped in Nightmare’s filthy claws, unable to return to his world and stop the human from advancing through their endless genocidal routes. (Shoutout to my mutual @what-have-i-unleashed and their amazing post that I can’t seem to find, about the headcanon that Nightmare is a dream eater, and that it’s by eating Dust’s dreams that they end up meeting. [I’m not sure if that’s exactly what it was, but I trust my memory.]).

However, all he did was make it easier for Nightmare's sweet words to slip into his mind, twisting his thoughts into believing that Nightmare was a friend. My headcanon is that, after recruiting Killer, Nightmare chose to take a more ““““peaceful”””” approach to "recruit" his next servants.

Now, the point that made me want to write this post: why the hell would Nightmare choose Horror? Killer and Dust's worlds are basically universes on the verge of collapse, with no real reason to keep going. But Horror? His universe isn’t even close to ending; a new chapter just began with the fall of a new human (something extremely rare when compared to other timelines). It wouldn’t make sense for Nightmare to want to recruit someone who’s so deeply rooted in a place — and someone who would never abandon his brother to follow a cheap, terrifying version of himself.

Let’s be honest, out of the three, Horror would probably be the first to turn down any deal Nightmare might offer — both of them are way too manipulative to trust each other. And unlike Killer and Dust, Horror would definitely be unpredictable for Nightmare (he literally tortures Aliza just for fun! What wouldn’t he do to pass the time and be less bored?). Plus, he has no real use for Nightmare (ouch, sorry Horror fans).

His LOVE, no matter how high it is compared to the average Sans, still doesn’t come close to the extremely high LOVE that Killer and Dust possess. And while he might be bigger than other Sanses, he definitely has the most fragile, cracked, and scarred bones — wounds that even the strongest healing magic can’t repair. For Nightmare, Horror is probably just a bucket of negative emotions — his AU is merely a smorgasbord for Nightmare, nothing more.

[huginsmemory]

First meetings: Wolfwood and Vash

ID: Wolfwood in his introduction chapter pinching a protesting Vash's chin with interest and exclaiming that people are stupid for not immediately recognizing Vash.

One thing I noticed while rereading the manga, is the nature of Wolfwood and Vash's first meeting; that is, Wolfwood isn't targeting Vash as his next mark, nor does he likely know that Vash is his next mark. As a result, I thought it would be interesting to look at how that shapes their relationship with each other in the beginning, especially in comparison to the differences in the anime adaptations. Just a fun lil tidbit to sink your teeth into.

Proof of Unknowing

For the case that Wolfwood wasn't yet targeting Vash, my first point is that it makes sense logistically; if Wolfwood was targeting Vash to kill him as Legato had originally told them to in the manga, it would be assumed that he would have tried to kill Vash. However, instead he doesn't try to at all, although one might chalk that up to Vash saving his life by spotting him while on the bus or some other plot gimmick for Wolfwood to not immediately try to kill Vash.

Secondly, and more obviously, Wolfwood hasn't met Legato yet. This is seen clearly when Legato asks Wolfwood if he's Chapel, who Wolfwood is (later shown to be) impersonating, which means that Legato has never met Wolfwood. As well, Wolfwood is only shown to know the location of his next job- when he mutters about the chapel on the top of the rock- and doesn't seem to know nothing else, making it highly likely he doesn't even know any other details. In fact, Vash actually warns Wolfwood to not get involved with Legato, giving Wolfwood his description, to which Wolfwood when recieving the info doesn't seem to know the man; and upon arriving, and meeting Legato, Wolfwood actually parrots the description from Vash's warning in wariness, recognizing him through Vash's warning.

ID: Collection of three manga pages.

First page: Legato comments, "'Chapel' seems to be missing... Well, no matter. Our target... Has yet to arrive." His words fade into Wolfwood exclaiming, "Huh?! A skull attached to his left arm?" Vash says, "Yep, yep! That's right. And a raised, needle-like torture device on his right shoulder." After a pause, Vash says, "You don't know him? Well, if you see him, let me know."

Second page: Vash tensely remembers a blood spatter and thinks, "Like a shadow, he came. And like a shadow, he killed and slipped away. If he... If he can move in and out of a crowd like that, people can be killed easily..." Wolfwood and Meryl look curious, and Wolfwood asks, "Well? If I see that guy, what should I do? You got a message for him?" Vash makes an exclamatory sound and shouts, "No! No! Never-mind!! Do not get involved. He's a very, very dangerous man. I swear!" Wolfwood laughs, "But I heard you were the most dangerous man in the world!" Vash sighs.

Third page: we see Legato and Wolfwood standing across from each other at their first interaction. Legato says, "That cross... I've been waiting for you. You're 'Chapel,' correct?" Wolfwood's expression is wary, and he says, "The skull... The torture device... I know you..."

Since Legato hasn't met him yet, this also means Legato's precious half-coins which he gives to each of the gung-ho guns hasn't been given yet to Wolfwood, which Legato has been previously shown to inform the gung-ho guns who their target is when he gives it to them (as with the first gung-ho gun). This again makes it unlikely that Wolfwood even knows his mark is Vash.

ID: A panel of Legato touching a broken coin in front of Monev the Gale, the first gung-ho gun and saying intensely, "Do whatever it takes. For twenty years of your master's benevolence, it's time to repay him."

Lending further support, when Legato mentions that they specifically may need to deal with--ie, kill--Vash, this is the moment when we are privy to Wolfwood thought processes, where he desperately rages against his life as a assassin and how he wants to escape this life that causes him to kill. This is especially understandable under the context of Wolfwood just being told that he is supposed to kill a man that he had just somewhat befriended, a man who had just saved his life and payed for his lunch, who clearly has a good heart.

ID: Two subsequent manga pages. Legato (off page) says "We're entering unknown territory here. You must be ready to handle any situation. Especially... Vash the Stampede. By no means may you fail!!" Wolfwood's frowning face is shown as Conrad comments that Vash is coming and that he understands why Knives chose that location. There's a close-up of Wolfwood's narrow-eyed expression before a cut to his shoes stomping up a mountain. He angrily exclaims, "Shit! What the hell was with all th' training?! Once again I'm staining my own hands with blood. God..." He thinks, "Once it's gone full-circle... where will it end?"

Basically, manga Wolfwood and Vash's beginning of their relationship starts with them forming a camaraderie before Wolfwood learns that he needs to kill/betray Vash. This makes it in a way more bittersweet, because their original interaction never had that tension of knowledge that Wolfwood is there since the beginning to betray Vash, and instead, they are simply existing together and form a what might tentatively be called a friendship--at least something where the both of them seem to have made a positive impact on the other-- outside of Wolfwoods mission. As a result, the question of how much of the camaraderie in the beginning of their relationship is Wolfwood having to get close to his mark is removed; you realize the camaraderie they share is honest and organic. In a way it's more tragic, because Vash even warns Wolfwood to remain away from Legato, but Wolfwood is already inevitably heading towards meeting the man, and learns to his horror that his next target is actually Vash. For Vash it also it's bitter because when Wolfwood finds Vash, Wolfwood mentions Knives for his reason of finding Vash; showing that even against Vash's warning, Wolfwood has clearly been entangled in some manner in the fight between Vash and Knives.

Anime adaptions

All this gets cut from Stampede, as Wolfwood is pretty explicitly following Vash to babysit him since the beginning. As Stampede has considerably condensed the story this makes sense since it would take time they don't have to add it in; but I think that cuts out an interesting extra dimension to Wolfwood and Vash's relationship, but so many things have been cut that I'm not surprised, and it's so changed that this being cut is not a big deal to me (compared to other things they cut which were more important).

From what I remember of the 98' anime, it's left a bit open to whether or not Wolfwood already knows from the beginning. However, as Wolfwood appears before Legato appears, it may mean that Wolfwood doesn't know during their first few meetings, like in the manga, but we aren't given a specific scene that shows Wolfwood being told to follow Vash, so we don't know where in the timeline he knows (we are only given the scene where he's told to kill Vash, later in the series). As well, Vash warning Wolfwood about Legato was removed in '98, which then lacks that bittersweetness of the realization that Wolfwood has become entangled in Vash and Knives fight. However, I haven't finished rewatching '98, so I don't have a more confident answer for whether or not Wolfwood knows, so take this part of the analysis with a grain of salt.

Conclusion

TLDR: In comparison to Wolfwood seeking out Vash to betray/observe him since the beginning, Wolfwood not knowing, (as shown by Legato not knowing who Wolfwood is when they meet) makes their whole first interaction in the manga organic, and adds a whole extra dimension of tragedy to their relationship, especially with the way Vash tries to warn Wolfwood away from Legato, which ultimately fails. As a result, the darker parts of both of their lives, which they don't acknowledge in their first meeting, end up intertwined, against their will. This actually serves as part of a huge thematic resolution of monstrousness and rejection but that's not the point here, that's another thing for another day.

Btw! If u wanna read more rambles from me, here's a masterpost of em :)

Edit (Apr. 2): Added photo ID, written by @princess-of-purple-prose

[jon-snows-man-bun]

By Turns

Chapter One

Masterlist

The closer Eris gets to his goals the harder he has to work to keep all plates spinning. Tensions simmer underneath his new alliances, pulling him into the Hewn City where the impact of Rhysand’s rule shapes the future.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x OC. Other pairings to be added.

Other featured characters: Elain Archeron, Lucien Vanserra, Azriel. Variable POV

Rating: E for Explicit. Minors DNI.

Warnings: misogyny, violence, torture and domestic abuse both on and off screen, sex, sexual violence, dubious consent, drug use, character death, no reliable narrators to be found. Further warnings to be added.

Find this fic on AO3

A/N: The first full length fic I’ve ever written, and entirely on the notes app too. I think everybody in this fandom resents the lack of detail and world-building, so let’s get to fixing it via fanfic.

Total number of chapters TBC, additional warnings will be added as they occur but please note, explicit content occurs at the outset and throughout.

About the fic… the Hewn City really gets a rotten deal in canon, don’t they? This is my attempt to sort it out. Please note that involves Rhysand being a real “ends justify the means” sort of guy, so if that clashes with your vision of him perhaps this isn’t the fic for you. Keir and Morrigan are Irish names, so I’ve run with that since the Hewn City doesn’t get much detail in the books.

My characterisation of Azriel also seems to be against type for the fandom - he tortures people explicitly in this fic, and I’ve tried to line him up more with his angry, horny, fucked up in the head attitude that I got from his POV chapter. I don’t think he’s an emo softboi, so if you only like him in that sort of characterisation, this also probably isn’t the fic for you.

Thanks for reading! This is my first fic as I said, so I’d be delighted to have a beta reader if anyone is willing.

———————

The pit monsters were active that night. They didn’t make much noise but Azriel could feel them, waiting there beneath his feet. His shadows didn’t like going in the pits but were skating over the top of the grates and twining with the bars, telling him that the creatures were alert, waiting for him, for his gifts to them.

Some males had hounds waiting at their doors for their return. He had the Hewn City beasts.

Azriel had grabbed the fae from the throne room, dragging him through shadows down and down to the lowest levels of the dungeons. The assembled courtiers and citizens had stepped back from him when Rhysand called him forward, scattering like insects under the light of the High Lord’s displeasure. Azriel hadn’t followed what the fae’s transgression was, merely centring himself for what was to come.

He was a Darkbringer. This would not be easy.

Azriel shoved him through the doorway, turning to close it behind him. When he turned back, the male calmly went to the chair in the centre of the room and looked at him with flat dark eyes, so like Keir’s, which meant they were like Mor’s, too. Azriel could hate him for that, so he did. There was a dull acceptance there, which made everything in Azriel sour, turning to stone, turning to dust. He was blonde, as well; his hair looked grey in the ugly, dank light of the cells. Everything was grey and ugly here.

Rhys dipped into his mind briefly. I want to know who he was meeting with, he instructed. Names. I’ll return to you in a few hours.

This will take longer than a few hours, Azriel sent to him. Rhys’ only answer was the silken slip of his familiar darkness as it left Azriel’s mind.

Azriel began his work.

He thought of nothing at all as Truth Teller danced, by turns fast and sprightly, others slow and aching. It was only when he had the tip of the blade lodged under the fae’s broken third rib, carefully turned to keep the bone from healing, that he began to fade from consciousness. He knew his fate was death regardless; Rhysand had no clemency for Darkbringers who whispered of discontent and mutiny. Azriel paused with his finger in the knife wound as he mulled over how best to motivate the fae for information when his life was forfeit regardless of whether or not he provided it. His blonde hair had stained with blood, dark brown and congealed.

Azriel grabbed the fae by his dislocated arm and dragged him to the grate on the floor. Beneath, the beasts twined, appetites whetted from the blood dripping to them. The fae thrashed as he was pulled, swearing and snarling, but Azriel merely slammed his face against the grate, hard enough that he knew his eye socket would be shattered. The fae fought him, flailing like a trapped animal, but Azriel merely chained him down by his neck and retreated to wait.

This was why the beasts loved him, he mused as the fae started to scream. The only living things in the Hewn City that did.

In the morning Azriel was had no new information to give to Rhys. The fae was done - Azriel had been aggressive, hoping to coax the fae to speak by making death seem sweeter, but if the Darkbringer had any secrets he was taking them to his grave.

Not that he was getting a grave. Azriel merely cut his throat and rolled the body to the waiting beasts.

He opted not to winnow from this low, dank cell, choosing instead to walk upwards and see who might be waiting, see if anyone showed unusual interest in a traitor’s fate. The watery enchanted light pulled him up, and as he stepped through the door of the dungeons he parsed through what his shadows were telling him. They moved without fear here despite the light; even with the enchantment, the Hewn City was shadowed and dim.

Three children are walking to school. A blonde female is baking a rhubarb pastry for breakfast and brewing mushroom tea. A teenager with blue eyes is arguing with her mother over porridge because she wants to attend a dance but her father said no. The fire prince is here.

Fucking Eris. Azriel followed the last one, ignoring the whispers of his shadows about the Hewn City waking up; life happened here despite it all. He had meant to take in those around the entrance to the dungeons, but all whose paths he crossed ducked their heads and turned away. The acrid tinge of fear followed him everywhere in here.

It was a short walk from the dungeons to the court rooms along one of the wider boulevards. The stone fences of some of the grander mansions hemmed him in on either side; behind them he knew the occupants often kept small reflecting pools carved into the rock, little places to sit and take tea. The wooden gates through the tall fences were carved and painted with the crests of the families within: a luminescent moth, a gold seven-pointed star, two bats of rust and grey. He didn’t bother spying on most of these families - his time and energy was limited, far better spent outside of the Court. The Hewn City hadn’t necessitated it in a long time, but perhaps, with discontented soldiers…

He shouldered his way into the room without preamble. Eris Vanserra’s hair was so red in the half-light it was nearly luminous; brilliant, flaming colour after all of the anaemic imitations of life.

“And just when I thought my reception was too welcoming. I’m pleased Rhysand has sent one of his bats to brood in the corner. Tell me, which of the bastards are you?”

Was there ever a day when Eris didn’t antagonise everyone he came across? Azriel curled his lip at him, half a snarl and half a sneer. Eris merely smirked.

“I remember now, you’re not the one who fucked Morrigan. You’re the one who wishes he did,” Eris drawled, turning back to Lord Thanatos dismissively. Azriel only realised he was clenching his fists when his shadows started writhing around him, and he worked hard to master the hot flush of anger that grabbed his lungs and squeezed whenever Mor’s name fell from Eris’ lips.

“And this meeting has been approved with your High Lord, Thanatos?” Azriel ground out. Keir’s second gazed darkly at him, quickly rearranging his face into something neutral.

“Yes, as always, this falls under Lord Eris’ permissions to enter the Hewn City,” Thanatos grumbled. “Now, unless you’d like anything else? Perhaps to execute another one of my soldiers?”

“Don’t tempt me,” Azriel warned, pinning him with a stare. Thanatos didn’t flinch, as usual - Keir was the one who oozed through life like oil, bending away from the slightest pressure but impossible to be grasped with both hands.

By the time he winnowed back and reported to Rhys, he was ready to wash the Hewn City off of him. As he scrubbed the fae’s blood from his hair, he remembered how it had been matted into the blonde fae’s, how the rust brown bat on the gate he passed was the same colour. He let those thoughts flow down the drain, too.

———————

The ceiling of the Hewn City was spelled to emit light during the day and fade to blackness at night, but the light it mustered was watery and grey. It tended to give Eris a headache and was why he largely preferred to visit at night. Unfortunately, Keir and Thanatos preferred meeting at first light. Eris suspected this was to vex him.

“Tell me news of your dealings with Rhysand,” Keir said, gazing at him imperiously from across the black onyx table in the meeting chamber, not even deigning to add pleasantries. He had slunk into the chamber after Azriel had slunk out, the timing too exact to be coincidental.

Eris stuffed his hands in his pockets, affecting a casual insolence that he knew twisted screws into a certain breed of male.

Rhysand referred to this place - rather obnoxiously - as the Court of Nightmares, but he always thought of it as the Court of Masks. A web, a game of chess, a dance; the metaphors were endless, but they engaged in the same behaviour courtiers everywhere engaged in. But Eris had worn a mask all his life. It wasn’t any more frightening for him here than anywhere else, barring the monsters below the dungeons. He knew this dance well and could turn about the floor better than most.

Better than Lord Keir, certainly. His nonchalance was grating on the male, Eris could see in the twist of his mouth, and he smirked. Thanatos merely looked stone-faced and surly.

“My dalliance with Rhysand is as rewarding as ever,” Eris remarked smoothly, an utter lie. Rhysand was as withholding and miserly as ever. It also wasn’t why he was here with the lords of the City today, but he supposed when you had a boot on your neck it was all you thought about. All the same, Keir’s obsession with Rhysand grated.

The rest of the meeting continued in the same fashion. They were all too happy to further codify their alliance by allowing for the purchase of Hewn City diamonds by the Autumn Court - to be celebrated with a diplomatic dinner that evening - and Keir pushed again for access to Velaris. Eris had enquired about the executed soldier Thanatos had mentioned but they stayed mute, protesting that they had no idea he was disloyal.

Unlikely, given that you couldn’t so much as take a breath in the Hewn City without Keir’s permission and Thanatos knew the whereabouts of any Darkbringer at any given point. He set the matter aside for now, mulling it over and deciding to speak with the captains he knew at the dinner later.

———————

It was her eyes Eris noticed first.

In the reception room adjoining to the dining hall, Eris had sauntered in among the crowd. He had chosen a charcoal grey jacket for the occasion, blending himself into the Night Court fashion. The assembled courtiers were the usual blend of schemers and liars, and as he made his rounds, his eyes snagged on hers.

They were dark blue like a moonlit ocean, framed by thick lashes. Deep and fathomless and the blue of a silent midnight.

She was surrounded by the court of the Hewn City, the Darkbringer captains and low lords of shadow and ladies who wove webs of secrets and lies against each other. She wore dove grey silk overlaid with black lace, draped around her like gossamer webs, revealing skin in elegant swaths. Her skin was as pale as marble and, as fashionable here, had been dusted with something that made it look silver and luminous. Half her black hair was twisted back in a silver comb and adorned with a dove feather, while moonstones and diamonds glinted at her throat and fingers like many of the females in the Hewn City.

A daughter of Night. He met those sapphire eyes impassively, glancing over the high cheekbones, the full lips.

He knew his face was the picture of bored indifference, but his fire burned hot all the time, raging to consume, to destroy. It was constant effort to keep it tame within him, something he had refined through centuries. But as his eyes met hers his ribs ached to contain the pressure within him, his fire pressed up under his skin in a sudden rush that hit him like a blow to the chest.

Eris knew Keir was keen to curry favour and preserve the alliance - anything that might open the wards of the City and unleash him upon Prythian. If he wanted to, he could ask for the female; depending on who she was, he could go as far as asking for her to be brought to his chambers and find her waiting there in his bed for him. Females were tools here, chattel to be traded amongst the men.

He reminded himself that weapons were a type of tool, too. Instead, as he took his seat for the court dinner, he was gratified to find her diagonal to him. Was it intentional? A beautiful maiden dangled before him over a meal, to whet both his appetites? Keir sat to his right, Thanatos two down to his left. He was buffeted by the scheming males of this court, so was careful to keep his eyes from devouring her before he knew her measure. Most of the females in Night would go to his bed to pry something of value from his mouth; while females in Autumn clamoured for his attention for the social cache, here they desired his secrets to leverage over their keepers and each other. To tip his hand to anyone was to be taken advantage of - in chess, in politics, in pursuing women; this had been one of the first lessons he learned violently at Beron’s feet.

He didn’t bother speaking to her.

[farfromstrange]

Foreigner's God Masterlist

PAIRING: Matt Murdock x OFC

AO3 — Spotify — #foreigner’s god

❝ Sometimes, the greatest power lies not in what we can control, but in what we can uncover within ourselves. In the depths of darkness, secrets await, and it is our choice to embrace them or let them consume us. Together, they embarked on a journey to unearth the truth, unaware that love, like a tempest, would shatter all their plans and rebuild their world anew. ❞

⤹ SUMMARY:

She was born with the ability to manipulate reality and the world around her. Hydra raised her and turned her into their deadliest weapon until the Avengers saved her and offered her a chance at a better life. A dark past often comes with secrets that demand to be uncovered. There might actually be more to it than meets the eye, a kind of power that’s been sleeping deep within her, waiting to be discovered. But how does one get over losing everything without losing themselves?

One reckless night on a rooftop, a bad decision leads the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen right into her arms, and he decides to tag along on her journey down the past.

As it turns out, Matt Murdock is a man unable to take no for an answer when he has set his mind to something, and once she decides to let him into her heart, all the plans she made for the future fall apart.

Or, in which a troubled Avenger forms an alliance with Daredevil to fight a common enemy and save their city, but they end up saving each other instead.

⤹ CONTENT WARNINGS:

SLOW BURN, Canon typical violence, ANGST, EVENTUAL SMUT, light BDSM, Oral sex, daddy kink, praise & pain kink, blood & cum play, Switch!Matt, toxic behavior, language, severe mental illness, PTSD, implied/referenced torture, substance abuse disorder, self-harm, mentions of sexual assault, Hydra, age gap, religious imagery and symbolism, eventual romance, some fluff, mutant powers, mentions of child molestation, near-death experiences, catholic guilt, NOT TONY STARK FRIENDLY (at least until chapter 40 or so), turning good characters into bad guys, not completely canon compliant

-> There will be chapter-specific warnings before each chapter because they tend to vary with each one!

⤹ AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hello everyone! I didn’t expect this to blow up the way it did, so I decided to edit the entire Masterlist and repost it while I continue editing the chapters on AO3 and here, too. Welcome to everyone who’s new here!

Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!

I’m trying not to describe any specific physical traits like body shape, hair color, etc. (although I think I called her skin “pale” once or twice in reference to her lack of sun exposure) in any of the chapters. The character was assigned female at birth and also identifies as female with she/her pronouns, but other than that, I do not give her any traits other than her name – Eliza Bennett. Her looks are entirely up to your imagination! So you can view this as a reader insert or not, whatever you want. It’s up to you how you interpret this story.

-> Series takes place in early season 2 and continues from there on.

-> This work is 18+ ONLY!

[the asterisk (*) indicates explicit sexual content; (^) indicates the chapter has been edited to fit the new style]

— ACT ONE: HYDRA —

chapter one: I Did Something Bad (^)

chapter two: Raise A Little Hell (^)

chapter three: I Think He Knows (^)

chapter four: This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things (^)

chapter five: Hold Me While You Wait (^)

chapter six: Ivy (^)

chapter seven: right where you left me (^)

chapter eight: doomsday (^)

chapter nine: Block Me Out  (^)

chapter ten: 1 step forward, 3 steps back (^)

chapter eleven: New Invention (^)

chapter twelve: It’s Nice To Have A Friend (^)

chapter thirteen: Devil Town (^)

chapter fourteen: Family Line (^)

chapter fifteen: So it goes…* (^)

chapter sixteen: Do I Wanna Know?* (^)

chapter seventeen: Look Who’s Inside Again (^)

chapter eighteen: Anti-Hero (^)

chapter nineteen: You’re On Your Own Kid  (^)

chapter twenty: Innocent* (^)

chapter twenty-one: Green, Green Dress*

chapter twenty-two: mirrorball*

chapter twenty-three: The Avengers (pt.1) 

chapter twenty-four: The Avengers (pt.2) 

chapter twenty-five: For Real This Time 

chapter twenty-six: Black Out Days 

chapter twenty-seven: Dear Reader

chapter twenty-eight: Look What You Made Me Do 

chapter twenty-nine (Bonus Chapter): Haunted

chapter thirty: Hayloft II

chapter thirty-one: Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

chapter thirty-two: Chasing Cars

chapter thirty-three: How To Save A Life

chapter thirty-four: Foreigner’s God(*)

chapter thirty-five: long story short*

chapter thirty-six: this is me trying*

chapter thirty-seven: New Romantics*

chapter thirty-eight: Lavender Haze*

chapter thirty-nine: As It Was*

chapter forty: Monster*

chapter forty-one: Daylight

— ACT TWO: PUNISHER —

chapter forty-two: I’ll Get The Coffee*

chapter forty-three: She Knows*

chapter forty-four: Cold As You 

chapter forty-five: Bird Set Free 

chapter forty-six: Human*

chapter forty-seven: Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve (^)

chapter forty-eight: Bad Blood (^)

chapter forty-nine: Dark Paradise (^)

chapter fifty: Meet Me In The Hallway (^)

chapter fifty-one: Demons (^)

chapter fifty-two: Say You Won't Let Go (^)

chapter fifty-three: I Will Be Your Remedy (^)

chapter fifty-four: Dancing With The Devil (^)

chapter fifty-five: Why Am I Like This? (^)

[plznomonkeys]

I cannot add the screenshot but saw your comment about the process of making OCs. please share yours cuz I'm so curious!

I had literally 5k words written out explaining the process and thought 'nobody needs to read that' and just shortened it to point form. It was a lot of rambling......

Anywho

OC's, in my mind, fill a void that I feel a story is missing. I mean, no whole story is necessarily missing something, but it is in my perspective. Usually OC's are born from something I disliked with the original work or felt could've been handled differently.

So the tip of inspiration is a 'What If?' moment.

"What if L had someone on task force -with more than 2 brain cells- on his side?"- Death Note

"What if Naruto had a friend growing up who loved him?" - Naruto

"What if Truth was an even bigger dick and tortured someone's soul through reincarnation until they finally learned to break the cycle?"- FullMetal Alchemist

"What if a main character didn't have a damsel in distress as a love interest?" - Bleach

The what if is the first point to creation. It gives me an anchor of reference, of purpose, to this character. It's not to make them a plot device, but it helps me shape around what the reason for building them is. Everyone needs a purpose to have fulfillment in their lives, even if it's just to feed your cat and water your plants. You have a purpose, so what is my OC's? There's usually a moment in the story that inspires this specific purpose and each one is different.

Great, now that we have a purpose, let's move on.

Part 1: What's the start and ending?

It doesn't matter what the story is yet. To me, what's important is the end of this character's story. Where do they end up? Are they alive? Dead? Did they end up with love interest? Did they succeed in their goals? etc.

Despite how crucial this part might seem, I'm never dead set on it. I have a general idea most of the time.

The point of the ending is to have guidance as to where I'm going with the story line and remind myself that this character is moving in that direction. It can also change once you know your character more and once you have a fully fleshed plot, but again you'll change it likely because it works more with the OC you've created.

Now that you've got an ending, pick a starting point. It can be literally anywhere. It can be another character POV. Beginnings are really easy, just pick a place you want to begin and write a few words. Great, now figure out how this beginning meets that ending. Rough sketch it, when you write it out it'll change and grow, that's perfectly okay. No character is the same at the start and finish, so be aware that change is normal.

Part 2: What's the secret?

Every character that has any level of depth has a secret that is revealed in the story. L's successors was a big one. Naruto's parentage was theorized for years before being confirmed. Aizen's betrayal in Bleach was another. What big secret changes the reader's view on the character? What do the other characters think?

Part 3: How are they compatible with their pairings?

Legit this one comes up early in my mind. If I'm completely honest it has to, as you already have a character that is fully fleshed out and in order to keep them in character then your OC needs to adhere to the canon character's interests IMO. It's the reality of it. Which also means you have to know the canon character really well. Which is where character analysis comes in.

Let's take L for example. While I imagine he's the type to make his partner comfortable regardless of their wants/needs, I also see him as the guy who would legit rather die that admit those feelings at first? Like I subscribe to him being a little autistic and mildly self-degrading when it comes to 'why would they like me?' perspectives.

I say mildly because it's not so much he has no confidence as simply 'I literally have no internal clock, I likely have uncontrolled diabetes and broke my back on my own from sitting like this all day, I will ignore your very existence to finish a case and I literally haven't been home in god knows how long, so why would you ever have feelings for me?' It's illogical for L to entertain the idea of someone feeling that way about him because he simply doesn't fit the profile of a dating candidate. And so he disregards the idea that someone could ever be interested in him. Never mind he'd have to know everything about them down to their god damn SIN number before he'd ever see them in person.

So yeah, L's tough, but not impossible. I could see him with a character who really enamours him. I mean as in a character who thinks so radically different from him that at first he sees it as illogical, but progressively he begins to understand how they tick. I could see him being especially fascinated with someone who is very capable of lying convincingly, and yet wears their heart on their sleeve. I find this type of person to be so opposite and yet so similar at the same time.

Now that you have their OTP.... what other pairings are there? Contrary to the belief system, but there are multiple pairings in every story. Pairings don't have to be romantic, but they must be dynamic. What do other characters think of them? How would they interact with each other? I usually know intuitively who I want my OC to befriend and who they realistically could get along with.

This is, quite literally, the toughest part to flesh out, since I work pretty hard to try and stick to canon.

Part 4: Define your character in one scene?

As I said in the What If? section, each character is born from a specific scene or idea. So what is the scene in the story that defines the entirety of this character? For L I think his defining moment was his lil speech about 'do you really think I do this for justice?' in the manga. It brought into perspective that L was having fun on this case, and when he was 'wrong' about Light his temper tantrum made so much more sense honestly.

Characters need a scene in the story that really lets the reader understand the character on a deeper level and really drives home 'this is a person' even though they're not real it makes them feel raw and real.

Part 5: Motivations

Okay, great, we have so much covered, literally I could probably just go off this and wing the rest. But now we gotta ask why is OC even in the story? Why are they a moving puzzle piece? What made them get to their ending? What did they sacrifice? What's the most important thing to them? Why? Knowing why a person moves is far superior to simply wanting them to move. Why did Light swap the notebooks between shinigami? To keep Ryuk's big mouth away and Rem up close to L. Why did L confront Light at uni? Because he had enough sugar to kill a camel in his system and a gut feeling that Light was Kira and would eventually fold under pressure if he pushed him enough.

Part 6: The Plot

Okay so we've got literally everything necessary. So what's the plot? Is it AU? Partial AU? Canon compliant? Does it just follow canon to a certain point and then go off the rails? Personally I like canon divergent. It holds some points of interest with the original plot but diverges at points only to link up in some spots. I also am a huge fan of making events happen in different time frames.

And now.... where do the OC's affect the story? I mean there's no way that Death Note is a completely unchanged story despite another character being added? Something has changed, so what? Do certain events not occur? Does something better befall certain characters? Something worse?

I am also a stickler for universe rules. I do no bend rules for my characters unless I can come up with a universe compliant reason that it would work. I try to respect the original author's world...... but I will do whatever the hell I want with the characters as long as they're in character.

Part 7: The personal touch

Believe it or not, the appearance of the character is the literal last thing to even cross my mind. Like I legit started writing a Naruto fanfic and realized in 8 chapters I hadn't a clue what she looked like. I had to go to pinterest and make a board, along with a character bio in my notes app. I pic out the height, weight, hairstyle/hair colour, eye shape/eye colour, face, aesthetic, any scars/tattoos they may have and I put it on my notes/pinterest board. Now that I know their story is so I know why they'd have that scar or tattoo. I know why they have that kind of look in their eye. I know everything about them really.

The last bit is mostly spreading this personal touch through the above mentioned steps. It's fleshing it out further, making them more flowing in growth. When did they get the scar? Why that tattoo? Does it affect the story?

Attractiveness is something I debate a lot, and honestly it mostly comes down to plot. If a character needs to be pretty because of the plot I write them as attractive. If they need to be ugly that's what they are. Full disclosure, I see through my OC's eyes when I imagine scenes since I like to write in first person. Meaning I never remember their appearance and always have to review the notes to remind myself what they look like at all.

---

Ok, I think I got everything? So yeah, this is the fuck fest two brain cells can come up with. Keep in mind it is a cyclic mentality and I am perpetually editing and upgrading ideas in my brain. My newest OC to Death Note has literally changed so dramatically in 5 days just by doing this process 3 times that you'd think they were two different characters. It really helps me know my OC's honestly. Do I follow this to the T? Not always, but it is generally the process I subscribe to.

Hope this was a good read, cheers.

Also sorry if I did this wrong I've never posted on tumblr before this year god save my soul

[rainbowr0ses]

alright. I finally started Magnus Protocal- um. Below the cut is all the random notes/thoughts. None of the notes are serious, just me being silly :)

as soon as you keep reading it’ll be notes so- it starts at Alex’s starting note, and ends with Jon reading the credits.

Oh hi Alex, thanks for torturing my ears ig

oh that’s so spooky. It actually reminds me of little nightmares (I LOVE LITTLE NIGHTMARES)

JONNY (I want his voice and I get reminded of that every time)

Computer beep beep :3

Oh it’s printing

I love them. I heard their voice. 

Scottish man scary (silly)

I forget how I notice the accents, just- so apparently

I have no idea who is who, and I doubt I will until later. (It took me so long to differentiate Jon, Elias, and Tim-)

Was that person at the beginning Alex

Who??? Which of the women 😭😭😭 who is Alice and who is Gwen 

Why is the name is so wordy (lettering)

I love family dynamics- especially when it’s a joke

I have legit no idea what’s going on

C a k e

Oh spooky computer things 

Booting up pt. 2

I hate paperwork. 

Alice is so silly

WINDOWS- WHAT??????

Poor Colin

I- what the heck is the wrong with this computer

Static!

“Everythings legal in the government” (“everything is legal in Jersey”)

That- I’m getting flashbacks to every diatomaceous key I’ve read in science 

I hate this so much

This paperwork sucks

This is worse than school

JON NPC??? 

a year ago???? 🤨🤨🤨

Spooky. 

MOOOOOM Jon’s being spooky again

CHECKING IN?????????? (I hold checking OUT in my hands-)

Ooooo spooky statement time

A…. Cemetery (hey guys- hey guys. Wasn’t the first official Micheal meeting in a cemetery (or around one)??)

Preface, the random thoughts I have aren’t “THEORIES 😱😱” it’s just me being silly and writing down whatever comes to mind

The mechanisms messed with the name Author to me

Grave?

A figure-?

A wrong shape?????

I love that this an email-

Oh- so it’s giving stranger

Stranger and like- distortion vibes- but mainly stranger 

Impossible is my key word for distortion

It’s a lose-lose situation when you check something out. If you do? Your life’s ruined. If you don’t? Your life’s also ruined. There’s no way to escape. And the police don’t do anything-

I love the ai voice for the entire thing-

I LOVE GWENS VOICE

GWEN IS so MMMMMMMMMM

Lena-

Zombie

Elias Bouchard (but Jonah) vs. Jonah

I love sarcasm

I thought I broke my headphones from the-

THE HECK. ARE WE IN THE BATHROOM

YEA. COLIN IS SCARY. SOMEONE GETS IT

sip

Guys I don’t think we’re in the bathroom

CAMERA NOISES ME WHEN

e c h o e c h o

NINE!!

“A Holliday? 😐🤨”

“Im a vegetarian” me too, Colin

Type type noises

Guys I think Gwen is going to be my favorite character 

Spooky earth noises

JON JON JON JON JON JON AAAAAAAAA

I want his voice

Spelunking you say? 

I’m realizing that the earlier voice was Alex-

Magnus Institute spelunking????

H u h

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm

NO NO NO NO DONT DONT DONT

AAAAAAAA THIS MAN IS GOIGN TO REGRET IT

it’s the calm ai voice-

Guys I know it’s like- Jon voice acting, but he’s breathing. You can HEAR breathing

“Really weird.” Yeah no duh. “Really weird” and the “Magnus institute” are practically synonyms at this point

This is- screaming- actually-

Paranoia? And the Magnus institute?? 🤨🤨

Hard time uploading things you say

I love how both series talks about a struggle with technology

Burnt down Magnus institute, you say?

“Tbh” 💀. I didn’t know I needed to here Jon say tbh till now

Cool vibe fr I agree

Ooooo spooky ghost

No doors

LIBRARY OR ARCHIVE?????????

ON THE FIRST LAYER

AAAAAAAAAAA

it burnt down. And there was nothing. At all.

Oh-?

Symbols? 

stains?

Huh-

Mmmmm

Back to the ai voice-

We were really getting emotional there

I-

IS HE INSIDE THIS? WHILE HES TEXTING THE FORUM??

oh lol no photo 

Old- wooden thing- wonder what that could be?

Damn- that’s real discourse for real

“Anymore”?

Oh damn the paranoia is getting to him now

OH I HATE THAT ICKY ICKY (I *hate* the idea that using a site is not how it’s actually preformed. Like receiving anonymous/private messages when *you shouldn’t be able to*)

Aggression?

bro is so casual

“Image removed by moderator”- giving tumblr fr- (silly, don’t kill me tumblr staff-) “Canaries should stay above ground”- that’s such a line. I- mmmmh. Jonny sims’ writing cooks in my brain

I- gross? The heck you mean gross

IS IT A BLOB OF EYES???

oooh emotion in the ai’s voice

I know it’s text-to-speech not ai, but it’s funnier to think of an ai voice going “are you alright 😨?” Than a text-to-speech voice (they’re similar, but there is definitely a different vibe)

Oh no. Not the temporary ban

“Thread locked by moderator” oh? What do the mods know?? It’s a valid question, and I doubt it went against any rule as it wasn’t even questioning the mods, only asking if someone is still banned to see if they’re okay. At least that’s most forum rules. In a normal situation, this would be really weird.

“So is Gwendolyn” IM DYING-

This is the like the most toxic/healthy work environment

Oh- funky audio?

Fine print. I feel like that’ll come back later. 

Ooh they’re so sappy

Oh tragic backstory

It’s giving Jon and Georgie (but like if they actually talked about things for once)

Huh- that’s an interesting theory-

Patron saint of cute what-

The sound effects are so cool! 

Colin-?? My good sir-??

Oh it’s more normal-

Nvm

Man’s is speaking so fast-

I swear he didn’t talk that fast before- maybe that’s just the music

Shout out to all the people! Everyone did such a great job, and it sounds so cool!

[secularpoet]

Call of Duty: Task Force 141 Chapter 3: Rundown

Chapter Three Song: Leave It All Behind - Cult To Follow

“Suffocate everything They complicate everything They seal your fate everyday but you can't believe it Take yourself far away from nothingness A million miles from emptiness And leave it all behind you”

Warehouse Unknown Location

Task Force 141 met at a warehouse, a private place to discuss sensitive details of their new mission. Considering the situation, there will be additional assets to the team. Gary “Roach” Sanderson, and Alex.

The two of them have met before, and Alex knows the members of Task Force 141, though he’s not exactly fond of anyone. He was somewhat hesitant to join, but being it’s regarding the President, he caved.

Roach is practically a “rookie” compared to everyone else, but he’s got experience under his belt nonetheless. Overall, it was almost like a “family” reunion.

The president was on video-call, everyone stood around a table across the laptop, and a map and files spread across the table, and a drawn diagram of their plans on a whiteboard.

The overall mission is broken down between two teams in two places. Team Ghost will venture Mexico. Their goal is to expand their vague lead by getting through to the Mexican soldiers who are paid off by the cartel.

By finding a link between the soldiers and the cartel, perhaps there is a link between the cartel and Russians. Just like with Hassan. This means a possible recurrence of El Sin Nombre, A.K.A., Valeria. It also means Alejandro 

“Since we don’t know exactly if they are holding y/n, we will split up to cover ground faster.” Laswell explains. The two teams' photos are pinned to the map.

“Ghost, Soap, and Roach will head to Mexico and see what can be dug up, regarding any rumors or activity. Price, Gaz, and Alex will chase a lead in Russia regarding Makarov.”

“What exactly will we be searching for in Mexico if we’ve no leads there?” Soap questions.

“The reflection of the uniform in the video suggests the army. Possibly someone paid off, which we know isn’t unheard of.”

“Cartel.” Ghost concluded.

“Exactly. That’s as far as a lead we’re starting with. I recommend speaking to Alejandro Vargas considering they had to release Valeria not too long ago. They’ll be waiting for your arrival.”

“I’ve been told it’s better not knowing about this Task Force, but I trust Kate, so I trust you all. Please bring her back safely. Whatever it takes.” The president spoke up. “We will, sir.” Captain Price promised with his assuring, warm smile. “Is there anything we should know regarding her rescue, sir?” Ghost asked. It was a simple rescue mission, but it obviously wasn’t. There was something about this, though there wasn’t anything else to go off on. Until then, Ghost singularly focuses on the facts.

“She hasn’t done anything, if that’s what you mean?”

“No, sir. Just don’t want to leave out any important details.” Ghost didn’t push any further.

With that said, the rundown was concluded and everyone split from the table, grabbing their gear and supplies to load up on the plane. 

“It’ll be like old times.” Soap smiles before recognizing the way Ghost was in thought. “You ‘right, Ghost?” Soap said, bringing him back from his thoughts, meeting Soap’s eyes.

“Affirmative.” Ghost responded, then turned away from the table, grabbing his gear, and making his way out of the warehouse to the plane.

What was going on in his mind? The thought of being captured, tortured, he’s reminded of a past that shaped him. He could completely sympathize, but he separated emotions from the mission. He’s concerned for y/n, but that’s all it was. Besides, what would happen if you’re all to fail this mission? 

Not that he’d dream of it, albeit there’s always a possibility nonetheless. Yet, he will not allow failure to be an option.

Author's Note

--

Hey guys! As I've said before, I'm totally going with the flow. I decided that some extra characters I'm going to enter in this universe will be, of course, Roach and Alex. I read up a bit on their crossover in COD Mobile (I should've read these comics before). 

If I didn't say this before, I'm doing a different direction with the storyline with inspiration here and there. Again, I hope you enjoyed! :)

--

[discordapples]

PT. 7 Third Wheel

Word count: 1.7k (7 mins read)

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Livia Novik, Ominis Gaunt.

Summary

Sebastian introduces Livia to Ominis. Ominis is roped into his friends' schemes to steal a relic from headmaster Black's office, while Sebastian senses this quest is only the beginning of a journey that is utterly and solemnly up to no good.

Read the seventh chapter below.

Sebastian | Hogwarts, Late August, 1893.

It is well past curfew when Sebastian and Livia make it to the Slytherin common room. Aside from the occasional glance around, Livia appears unbothered by the fact they are trampling through a few rules. 

Drifting from her, the same perfume that trailed Sebastian into his dreams last night. It bled out into the morning, too, as if a piece of her had been wedged between gum and teeth for him to pathetically suck on when the need for another hit arose.

What is it with this girl?

Is it the cutting wit? Her wand game? The hint of a Slavic accent leaching out when she speaks his name? The way her scant smiles feel deserved—earned?

Sebastian needs to focus on something else than the itch she leaves in his mind… And avoiding being caught is just as effective as a cold shower.

The living room is empty, save for the hiss of flames, and Sebastian steers left towards the stairwell. Together, they tiptoe up, silent as graves, and come to the dorm Sebastian shares with Ominis.

He opens the door and peers inside to find his friend sitting at the desk, hunched over a pile of books. 

“Late, as always,” Ominis chides him. “You’ll be grateful to know that while you were playing with your wand, I located the book you were after in the restricted section.”

“Playing with my wand?” 

The innuendo snatches a smirk from Sebastian. Next to him, Livia’s lips curl upwards likewise. 

Ominis turns on his chair, and for a moment, Sebastian thinks he can smell his shirt’s burned fibers or the irony tang of blood on it, but it’s neither the fire nor the blood Ominis sinks his teeth into… “Who are you with?”

How does he know? How does he always know?

Livia’s back stitches itself to the door, as if she regrets outstaying her welcome. 

In response, Sebastian slumps on his bed hoping to iron out the pleats tension has made in the Ravenclaw’s composure with his nonchalance. “Livia Novik, this is Ominis Gaunt. Don’t let his blind guy act fool you… He only does it to soften womanly hearts.”

“She shouldn’t be here,” Ominis hisses. “She’s not Slytherin, and it’s way past curfew.”

Sebastian cannot help but roll his eyes. This, too, Ominis has learned to taste on the air. “Haven’t you realized after eight years that the argument about breaking rules isn’t really a deterrent to me?”

“I’m well aware you’re a lost cause, but maybe she isn’t.”

“I feel a little embarrassed to say,” Livia chimes in gingerly, “but I don’t mind either.”

An odd pride shrugs into Sebastian’s chest. Livia’s clay is soft for the crime, and he wonders just how far she will go to get what she wants—how much her aspirations shape her.

“Fuck’s sake…” Ominis sighs in exasperation. “And here I thought this eighth year would be a quiet one. Should’ve insisted I’d bunk with someone else…”

“Oh, stop whining,” Sebastian derides him. “You’re embarrassing me in front of our guest.”

“A guest that shouldn’t be here…”

“It’s nice to meet you, too, Ominis.” Livia’s apologetic tone finds the dents in the wizard’s armor and he sheds it swiftly, rising from his chair and extending a hand in her direction.

“I didn’t mean to be rude,” he says. “Please forgive me.”

To Livia’s untrained eye, the gesture might seem friendly—almost penitent—but Sebastian knows better.

The little Gaunt boy that hunkered down through his family’s relentless spates of magical torture has found an inclination of his own for the meek and the complacent.

An ironic penchant Sebastian has kept himself from bringing before Ominis’ attention or else jeopardize their friendship.

Unaware of the wicked thoughts that, Sebastian is sure, don’t fail to materialize in Ominis’ mind, Livia shakes the hand offered and parts with a coy smile. “No harm done,” she says candidly before turning to Sebastian. “Now I believe you had me risk detention for a reason?”

“There are many reasons I’d have you risk detention,” he says playfully. “The first is so I have company. The second, to make good on my promise to include Ominis in my adventures, and the third being to have a private place where we can discuss the allegedly brilliant plan you enticed me with earlier, Livia Novik.” He stretches on his bed, his hands cradling his skull. “How does the saying goes? To zap three birds with one spell?”

“To kill two birds with one stone,” Livia and Ominis correct him in unison.

“See?” Sebastian sneers, “You two are already getting along like two beets in a pond.”

“Two peas in a pod…” Ominis feels compelled to rectify. 

Sebastian waves him dismissively. “Whatever… So, what’s this plan of yours, new girl?”

Livia leans against his disorderly desk. Will the pages of Sebastian’s notebook drink her scent and torment him with it when he expects it the least? Livia gives this thought no leeway to swell in Sebastian’s mind when she asks him: “Will you call me new girl for much longer?”

Ominis disgorges a sarcastic chuckle. “He will.”

“Another clause to add to our contract, then,” Livia adds.

 The word takes Sebastian by surprise. “Contract?”

“Spilling all my secrets before two Slytherin boys seems like a very asinine thing to do, wouldn’t you agree?” She crosses her arms before her chest, her eyes steeling. The stare she drags on Sebastian electrifies his chine. “I will reveal the plan to you as we go and if you prove trustworthy. We jest, we caper, we banter, and it’s all in good fun, but I’m not in Hogwarts to fawn over the Quidditch team, fuck through a cortege of boys or to learn how to cast myself out of a paper sack… I’m here to resurrect my brother, and if you two are all talk no walk, I’ll find the Promissum Mortis on my own.”

Ominis frowns. “Resurrection?” 

So does Sebastian. “A cortege of boys?”

Livia is all ice and no honey. “Are you with me, or did I risk detention for nothing?”

“I was with you the moment you cast that Confringo on Reyes, new girl.” Sebastian cracks his knuckles with a smirk. “I know now, it would be unwise to anger you.”

They turn to Ominis, both their gazes cutting enough to make the Slytherin’s brow hike. “I’m not as eager as Sebastian to walk on smoldering charcoals, but I’m not a snitch either. Time will tell if you’re likewise trustworthy, Livia Novik.”

“Acceptable terms,” she replies.

“So?” Sebastian uproots himself from his bunk bed, smoothing his trousers. “It seems like the perfect hour to snatch headmaster Black from the arms of his wet dreams, wouldn’t you say?”

* * *

The Grimfire, Livia Novik tells them, is a silver candle bristling with sharp needles. A thing you can only hold while wearing the Grimweave Gauntlet.

However comical the artefacts’ monikers seem to Sebastian, they aren’t half as absurd as the plan the Ravenclaw comes up with.

“Can you remind me why Ominis is so instrumental to your plan when he wasn’t even slightly enthused about the prospect of stealing from the headmaster?” He asks her as she discards her cloak and leaves it on Sebastian’s desk.

“Are you envious, Sebastian?” Ominis asks him, and his tone is enough a taunt to force Sebastian to inhale deeply through his nose. 

“I’m merely questioning your motives, Ominis…”

“You are quite vocal about your detention record and how… visited it has been,” Livia explains. “Black will believe me too fast if I pretend you nearly assaulted me after you got drunk.”

“Besides, I’m a Gaunt,” Ominis remarks, hammering on the nail of Sebastian’s coffin. “The headmaster won’t risk angering my father without trying to defuse the situation first, whereas he’d commit you to Azkaban without an afterthought if you as much as sneezed on her.”

“Don’t be so smug, Ominis,” Sebastian scowls. “Your bravery will deflate the second Black’s blade hovers above your neck.”

“How you underestimate me…”

“Boys,” Livia interjects, scissoring through the thread of their budding rivalry in one quick snip. “I’d love to be surrendered back to my feathery bed before the dawn rolls in, so could you focus a little?”

Sebastian graces her with a cynical smile as he kiss-feeds her plan back to her to show his assiduity. “Ominis tries to force his way on you. You make a scene and wake half the castle with your shouts, so Professor Weasley will have no choice but to bring you two into Black’s office. As Ominis wields his threats about like Ashwood would his dick, you steal the relic, and while you two are having a blast, I sneak into the restricted section to get my hands on Dovetail’s book. Seems to me like I’m the one doing all the heavy lifting…”

“Perhaps you’d choose Azkaban?” Ominis suggests. “The result would be the same for us, except we wouldn’t have to contend with your whining.”

Before Sebastian can think to retaliate, Livia clears her throat. “Or I could run to Black myself and tell him both of you sequestered me here. You already have my cloak in your possession and it would be a trifle for me to tear holes in my own clothes, muss my hair and make my eyes water.” She flaunts a triumphant smile about. The kind Sebastian aches to stare at as she twists it around his cock. “Which one will it be, chaps?”

“You do have the mind of a Slytherin,” Ominis remarks. “At least it’s one thing Sebastian didn’t lie about. Shall we?”

Leaving the dorm, they traipse through the common room, then spill out into the deserted corridor. 

The moisture of the dungeons clings to Sebastian’s nape and raises hairs on his arms. Somewhere deep inside of him, something rouses. A disquieting unrest that settles in his skull, like a viper in tall grass, waiting for a trespasser to sink its fangs in.

The walls have eyes, perhaps, and there, between the cracks in the timeworn mortar, sidle half a thousand secrets. Hogwarts’ secrets. 

His mother’s voice carries from a moment long lost. The shade of a reminiscence that, in its slow trickle, is more potent than any strychnine:

There are wonderful things hidden behind Hogwarts’ skin, if you know only where to find the loose stitch. But there are sinister things, too. For there could be no light without darkness, and no gold without its weight in coal.

[elirandom]

Rules: List 8 tv shows for your followers to get to know you!

1. A selection of movies I rewatched so many times I wore out the VHS tapes. The Terminator 1984 (when T2 came Linda Hamilton blew me away), Platoon 1986, Aliens 1986 & Die Hard 1988. It's a lot of bonding strangers to survive, h/c, antiheroes or plain charismatic bad guys, hypothermia or fever, there was only one bed and bantering. The original wet rat blorbos. Also if it's not bloody obvious I had such crushes on Bruce Willis ,Tom Berenger and Michael Biehn, I watched so many bad 80s-90s movies because of them.

2. Wait a minute, TV shows, not MOVIES. My bad, I'm keeping nr 1 as is anyway. Hmm, I always list Hannibal or Buffy tVS/Angel tS whenever I do this so I'm gonna try to list something else that's major loves. So, Miami Vice 1984-1989. Baby me had such a crush on Don Johnson you could see it from space. Adult me gets it, bought the box & rewatches it from time to time, incl writing fic but never anything going somewhere.

3. The Expanse. It's probably a very obvious choice if you ever looked around my corner of Tumblr but I want more people to post about it so. Amos (my favorite pansexual murderbear), Holden (who gave me the Captaincy? Holy shit. How can I fix everything while also being stubborn and chaotic) Naomi (I live with my choices every day but I've got a new life here to do something with & I'll defend it with everything). OT3. Sometimes I want something of poly where Naomi & Drummer (dragon in the shape of a woman, a hoarding underdog with so much fight in her belly) gets to be happy too. But that's just to name a few, it's not often I'm so very invested in so many characters in a show but they all have arcs and space to exist. Unfortunately one of the mains isn't clicking with me at all so the first season took me a while to find all the gold.

4. 9-1-1; besides the love I have for the firefam I'm completely sucked into the grumpy one is soft for the sunshine one. And the sunshine one is a golden retriever who's loyal to a fault and just needs food and love. While the grumpy one finds that letting the sunshine in makes life a helluva lot easier even if both of them almost dies a lot.

5. Hawaii 5-0. Talking about grumpy and sunshine. These two fit the bill too, they just can't decide who's who depending on the day and the drama. Danny's usually the negative one always predicting chaos. But Steve tends to be tortured or have shitty family secrets so his sunshine isn't that shiny all the time. But they're brilliant at bickering about everything which kinda gets them even. Instead they're great at hugs and saying I love you. I despise several plotlines but I can't quit them (I couldn't find a gif that includes Danny saying "Stop looking at me like that" in this scene but alas)

6. Stargate Atlantis, my first team turned into family, and my one and only OT4. McShep was my biggest fave, but i enjoyed team!fic just as much as OT4 fic. Reluctant leader with slinky hips and no self-preservation, paired with a smartass with a big mouth who always came through, a smarter woman who didn't get to kick people in the balls enough and stoic warrior who actually was the puzzle piece missing and more than meets the eye. They're a comfort fandom.

7. Due South. A weird cute soft series I didn't know had a fandom until after it was finished in early 2000s. And then I fell into fic (I never got to see the Ray wars up close luckily) and read so much by Speranza among many more. I've rewatched it a few times, esp if I'm home sick it's a comfort show.

I ran out of allowed gifs😭. Well, fuck.

8. Criminal Minds. I've rewatched this show many times because it's something about catching the bad guys and solving the case all neatly tied up. Another show I love but is even sadder and more horrible is Oz because happy ends doesn't exist because humanity is rotten and we pay for our choices. But it's so good I sometimes wanna rewatch it, I bought the DVD box. But then I remember how much I cried at certain eps, like the brothers and I don't. But sometimes it's good to cry over fictional characters.

[bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus]

Baying Dogs Rewrite; A Snippet of Chapter One

Hello! I have a lil' snippet of Chapter One here! I hope you guys enjoy!

Warning: Strong language, mentions of violence

Word count: 794

Ghost adjusted the strap on his chest plate and took his assault rifle from where it rested on the bedframe.

“Dougs is already out front.” Price’s voice announced.

“Paired me with the rookie, eh?” Ghost asked, almost challengingly, as he turned around to meet the captain’s blue eyes.

“She’s 141, now. And with Shepherd ordering us to remain stationed, we need to make sure we’re as tightknit as we possibly can be.”

Ghost just stared at him, blankly.

“Try not to scare her away.” Price sighed, patting his shoulder as he walked past to his bed.

Shaking his head, Ghost headed out and down the corridor, hoping that this night would go by quickly enough.

She was exactly where Price said she would be, kicking at a small stone and watching it tumble along the concrete.

“Evening.” Ghost grumbled as he arrived at her side.

“Hiya.” She smiled nervously, shrinking a little under his intimidating gaze.

Ghost let out another heavy sigh, swinging his gun round so it was now crossed over his chest and held by both his hands. He then looked back at Dougs who hastily did the same.

“Right,” he sniffled a little as the cold nipped at him, “We take at least two sweeps of this place. When we’re doing those, you’re on the radio at all times, understood?”

“Got it, Lt.”

“Just Ghost.”

“Copy.”

“I’m sure you know the drill. Now, can you tell me the points of entrance in this place?”

Oh no… Oh no, no, no. Dougs did not sign up to be quizzed.

Ghost stared at her as her face scrunched up in an effort to hack up an answer. She wracked her brain. ‘Points’ was what he said. There were several.

Come on! She was SAS trained! What was taking her so long?!

Eventually, after almost breaking a sweat, Dougs slowly pointed to the double doors behind them.

“Yes, the main entrance is one.” Ghost pinched the bridge of his nose.

His eyes could be seen squeezing shut a little through the holes of his skull-shaped mask.

 “Are there any others?”

Dougs looked behind her, again, to the crumbling World War II era fortress.

He watched her point to the garage.

“Uh-huh. Any more?”

“There’s a back entrance.”

“Yeah.”

“Are there any more?”

“You tell me.”

She wanted to kill herself. Like, she actually wanted to kill herself. This was horrible, nay, torturous. Why did Price put her with the lieutenant?! Why?! Dougs just wanted to get this over with, maybe catch an opportunity to meet Gaz and start trying to figure out which of those bastards killed her friend! And yet, here she was, having the whole of the English countryside watch her slowly lose brain cells as Ghost asked her some simple questions.

“Does the courtyard count as a point of entrance?” She finally managed to ask.

“Suppose. Maybe. But there’s one more you’re missing.”

One more.

Dougs tapped her chin with her index finger, her tongue clicking as she thought long and hard.

This was hardly rocket science, and to someone like Ghost, glaringly obvious. However, the poor medic was way too tired and still shaken up to think straight.

“Where do we eat?”

He hoped that would point her in the right direction.

“We ate in the barracks.”

Ghost knew he couldn’t have a go at her like he normally would.

“Try not to scare her away.” Price’s voice echoed in the back of his mind.

“Let me rephrase, sunshine, where do we normally eat?”

Her eyes widened as the revelation swept over her.

“The canteen!”

“Exactly.”

“Oh my God!”

Then, another revelation swept over her.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

She shushed him, and she thought back to where Weir’s body was. It was by the main entrance, just at the edge of the corridor leading to the part of the building that would be the dining hall. However, thanks to this place being built before the bloody Pyramids of Giza, there was no longer a functioning canteen. Instead, it was a ruin, but not entirely inaccessible.

So that could possibly mean the threat came from outside and from a part that no one would think to be wary of. Clever.

Well, that means that any doubts she previously had about the kill being unintentional could be dismissed. Someone was waiting for Weir to be alone.

It didn’t entirely rule out the fact that the culprit could be amongst 141 but at least she had an idea of how they managed to ambush someone like Weir.

No normal person would want to go through the trouble of treading over planks of wood and fallen bricks but that is exactly why someone would if they wanted to spring an ambush… like a lion waiting in the tall grass.

She turned to Ghost.

“I think we should take extra care ‘round there.”

“Why’s that?”

“I have a hunch.”

[feral-encounters]

My newest addition!

The first battle between the Weaver and Pyre

Though the dynamic is probably not what you expect:

Pyre is actually more moral and empathetic than the Weaver. More of a good guy then her actually

the Weaver is just a public menace

The Weaver does (secret good things) like steal food from big store chains then secretly give it to the homeless in her neighborhood (so they don't get in trouble) but not very often.

She does intentionally do things like mess with the police and let robbers get away etc. One of her favorite pass times is fucking with cops and getting in their way (She does some sketchy stuff)

Just generally being a nuisance

This is actually why I gave Weaver more pointy/triangle shape language and Pyre more curves

Because Pyre directly challenges the Weaver and her motives, and promises that if the Weaver ever successfully makes a name for herself being against the avengers (more on that later) then she will take her down, and be a hero despite what she was predicted to be.

Backstory:

Pyre was originally Dr. Cinder (Zarha Jane Cinder) who was a prodigy phycologist, apprenticed under a renowned doctor praised for his impossibly nuanced knowledge of the human psyche and it's limits.

Shortly after graduating with her doctorates, she began quickly making a name for herself, having a 'poor background' she fought hard to graduate the top of her class (or so the articles say about her, it was actually fairly easy for her, as she had an adept skill of observing what emotions a person was feeling). She was known for being able to handle even some of the most "lost" cases, (criminals, murders, and the mentally deranged) being able to calm them down and build trust with them seemingly with ease. Because of this she was nicknamed the Whisperer. (She also was very soft spoken, though she carried herself with strength and pride, and she would not shy from challenging someone or defending herself and her patients. Or punching someone square in the jaw.)

One fateful day, she went to meet her mentor for advice with a particularly tough case of hers. Her mentor however, had different plans.

He kidnapped her that day, and brought her to his estate in the rural land of NY State, where Zarha would learn how her mentor developed such an intimate understanding of the limits of the human mind.

He would perform countless experiments on her, torture, isolation, manipulation. He would subject inconceivable levels of stress onto her body and mind, keeping notes and jotting down every change, mental break, and coping mechanism she developed.

One final fatal experiment resulted in Dr. Cinder spontaneously combusting. The incident killed the mentor (or maybe Zarha did), though strangely, she survived.

She became walking flame. Forever in burning agony.

Once fire fighters came upon the scene and discovered her, the PSAI (Paranormal and Supernatural Ability Investigators) were called. They are a private organization run by the Avengers Co whose purpose is to discern if a person has supernatural abilities and whether they can mentally/physically handle them. They will either go to the X-Men, a 'superhero' training program (run in different facilities across the country), or if deemed volatile, they would be terminated.

[After Opal Parker was first bit by the spider, and struggling with her entire body exuding strange spiderwebs, covering her mouth nose and eyes even, the PSAI had been called, but she wasn't deemed time imperative, and even after nearly half a year, she's still on their waiting list. Not one person had even gone to check up on her. Leaving her to figure everything out by herself. And so she resents the Avengers and their stupid program that should have helped her, intentionally doing everything in her power to draw attention to herself, even if it means causing chaos.)

Dr. Cinder, was detained and supervised. Due to the naturally destructive nature of fire, her failing to control/neutralize the flame, her constant agony, and mental instability caused by the Doctors experiments, it was deemed that she would most definitely become a "villain" if assimilated back into society. She was labeled Volatile, and was scheduled to be terminated.

She somehow escaped, as though she was meant to be free. So she ran and hid. She hid in plain sight, curling herself into barrels, keeping the hands of the homeless, delinquent, and unwanted, warm. (Whom locals named Barrel Greg, after the local drunk Greg, who was mugged and burned in a barrel)

She eventually discovered that she could control the fire, she could burn bright and hot enough to melt metal, and she could reduce herself to a small pile of burning charcoal bones, and eventually, she could make herself completely heatless and harmless. She couldn't return to her previous body, she was stuck as flame, but she was tired of hiding.

And so she decided that she would prove herself to the Avengers and the PSAI, she'd prove them wrong. She could be good. She would do good. And despite everything that happened to her, she would continue to save people.

And so she vowed, that she would find someone who needed to be stopped, someone who really was a potential threat to the city and the Avengers. And she'd defeat them to prove that she could be a public hero again.

I'll probably draw this character some more

(Weaver and Pyre will have an enemies to lovers(?) arch. All of their fights are obviously very homoerotic)

And I'll probably work on Peter as this universes Dog Ock

Don't know which I'll do first though.

(also, in the first drawing, Opal has Jinx gloves- kinda)

#Barely related but still using the Arcane tag

Coping with Arcane s2 act 2 by finally drawing a spidersona! (Fan art is too much emotion)

(I know, I'm very late)

But here she is anyways:

Her name is Opal E. Parker (Opal Escent Parker- and she hates that her name is a 'pun', and rightfully so)

She is the daughter of Ben and May, and her best friend is her nerdy cousin Peter (who becomes her 'Ned', or 'guy in the chair') and she lovingly refers to him as Dick Eater

Instead of her using gadgets or webs coming from her wrists, the spider silk exudes from her entire body (freaky right?) this acts as a protective chrysalis on her (or a suit), which she can take and mold -weave- into different objects (ie her sword or skateboard), it also can condense and create an (almost) indestructible armor that is stronger than steel (this is not automatic though, she has to will it). She can also choose if the silk is solid, soft, or a gooy liquid depending on what she needs. She can make almost anything out of her silk!

Usually she likes to wear her boots, jacket, and gloves, to feel more covered up, but if a fight calls for it, she'll take them off to allow for easier access to her silk.

She enjoys styling her false silky 'hair' in different ways, preferably a long mohawk, and she will grab her hair and pull it down for a quick shield. (Because of it being made of silk, her 'hair' always floats in the breeze.)

Unlike most spidermen, she doesn't swing around on her webs, but instead, she floats on the wind, and makes 'sails' to guide and steer her - she also weighs practically nothing, allowing her this ability. And she can jump incredible heights with seemingly no effort. (Inspired by the jumping spider and how some baby spiders float on the breeze with strands of web)

She does not have an unlimited amount of silk though, and if she uses too much, she becomes severely fatigued and nauseous, and her 'suit' will become sparse, allowing for easier access to create wounds. In order to remedy this, she needs to collect and absorb her used silk (by eating it... Which revolts her, but is necessary).

Her biggest vulnerability (besides running out of silk) is fire, as it will burn away her webs, and she can no longer collect them. So naturally her enemies will find this out and exploit it, especially her biggest foe Pyre who is basically walking fire (who she teases for choosing such an obvious name). When it comes to fighting other elements, she's fine, her silk is water proof, she can choose to make it conductive or not, and, well, sand doesn't affect it much beside making her itchy.

She's also a severe arachnophobe, and she despises that she's a "spider woman", and becomes infuriated if you refer to her as such. She very much regrets being kind to a tiny jumping spider that had crawled across her desk as she was writing, she tried to carry it out on a piece of paper, but it jumped on her, and she panicked, tried to shake it off, which only made it pissed and bite her. Which is when all her gross slimy spiderweb skin and floating problems began.

#"your friendly neighborhood anarchist!"

I'll probably be drawing more of her soon, just to keep my wrecked brain off of arcane.

[matthewdante]

Review: @dawnbarrell8 ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Devouring Sin by Matthew Dante After reading Micky and Dom’s stories I was desperate to read Patrick’s, so keen that I read it in November, thank you Matthew, and it was everything I hoped it would be. There are not many authors who could take tough guys from an Irish mob, into drug running and murder and make them into lovable characters with marshmallow centres, who love fiercely, are closer than blood brothers and when they find their forever loves there is nothing they wouldn’t do for them. This is Patrick’s story and we find out just what happened to him as a child to shape him into the ruthless executioner he is now and the events broke my heart. Patrick has a younger brother and he found him some time ago and has been keeping an eye on him. When he gets word that Ollie is in big trouble and has been arrested he doesn’t hesitate to fly to Vegas to help him out. Most of this book is set in Vegas and this is where Patrick meets his match in Skyler, a beautiful burlesque dancer who can do crazy things with fire. He also has a brilliant criminal mind. When he crosses paths with Patrick on a job the huge wall of Irish muscle doesn’t faze Sky at all and Patrick is put in his place, on his ass! Of course there is no way Micky and Dom would let Patrick face his demons on his own and there is the usual love, fun and wicked banter between the brothers. Matthew’s writing is so clever that even when Patrick is doing his “day job” there is amusing dialogue to lighten the scene. Patrick and Sky are brilliant together and sparks fly straight away. The slim, supple dancer with years of gymnastics training is a temptation Patrick cannot resist and the fact that Patrick’s CV would list torturer and executioner actually turns Sky on meaning these two are a match made in heaven. Not sure if this is the last book in the series but I really hope not. The epilogue leaves the door open for another brilliant book with Micky taking centre stage and appearances by all the other lovable characters 😉 @matthew_dante_author #gayfiction #gaybook #instagay #bibliophile #mm #couplegoals #loveislove #booksbooksbooks Edits mine photos not https://www.instagram.com/p/CnBNHz9rCJk/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[saltymongoose]

Alright, got some Torture hcs for you all this time. Hope you guys like 'em! :)

They Meet the Player in Person ft. Mag Agent Torture (+ The Main 3 & 2BDamned)

(TW: Yandere, Obsessive Behavior, mentions of violence)

Out of all the AAHW agents, a MAG was actually the first to take a deeper interest in you; more specifically MAG Agent Torture. It was an odd revelation for him, to be completely honest. He never had much of an interest in other people, especially not attraction by any stretch either. For one, he was conditioned for one purpose; destroying Hank J. Wimbleton. He was focused purely on that objective since his creation; his mind was filled with nothing but the obedience instilled in him by the AAHW and the countless training modules they created.

Then there was the fact that the grunts who surrounded him were either rude or just plain terrified of him. It’s not like they didn’t have a good reason, as he made a habit of breaking out of his room (enclosure, really) and going on rage-filled rampages when the tests he was subjected to were too much for him. Plus he wasn’t exactly personable, it’s not like they could hold a conversation with him since the experiments left his vocal cords pretty fried (perhaps intentionally, screams from a MAG likely weren't the best).

At the end of the day, he was a tool to be used by the AAHW. A living object who didn’t have a meaningful connection with anyone, nor a reason to have one. Useful and expensive, but ultimately replaceable. Like all AAHW agents.

But his ambivalence about what he went through changed when he looked over the shoulder of one of the Soldats escorting him to Nexus City, and saw the odd photograph they had clutched in their paw. The Soldat themselves were immersed in a conversation with one of the L337 Agents about “The Player”, whom they were all expected to find.

“Is it just me or do they look kinda cute though?” A Soldat asked, to which the Agent just shrugged and gave a half nod. But they both froze at once when the shadow of the giant next to them enveloped them completely, Torture having leaned down to get his own look at the subject of the picture. Ignoring the two’s nervous demeanor and the way they trembled, he reached down with a large paw and gently plucked the photo out of the Soldat’s hand before straightening his posture. He tilted his head as he looked down at the smiling figure staring at the camera.

You looked…different. Clearly not a grunt, that’s for sure. Your skin was far too colorful compared to the grey pigments they had, and your eyes were exposed. There wasn’t a sign of the characteristic visual cross anywhere on your face, a slight wedge-shape jutting out of your head in the place where most had them. Your teeth, which were shown from the wide, happy smile you were giving the camera, were exceptionally blunt. But he didn’t find himself being perturbed or even weirded out by your unique features.

No, instead Torture found himself gazing upon the photo with an almost wonderstruck expression, entranced by your expressive eyes and the innocent grin on your face. You looked so kind and gentle. There was a certain genuine quality to your expression, one that Torture had never seen before from anyone he associated himself with. Even from this picture alone, he could tell you were welcoming. Your smile didn’t seem to hide any maliciousness or ill-intent, which was rare from those who associated themselves with the Employers in any form.

'Is that why the Auditor wanted to see you?' he wondered. Perhaps to finally experience the presence of someone who was wholeheartedly good, instead of those who saw him as a way to improve their own standing? (Not that the shadowy figure cared about such a thing, but a breath of fresh air was always nice, no?)

From then on, his curiosity in who this Player truly was was peaked. Ever since seeing the photo, he had been more enthusiastic in helping out on the search for you, and could constantly be seen cooperating with the Soldats, Agents, and Engineers to put up flyers. He even accompanied them when they spoke to the more friendly bandits about you, standing threateningly behind them to try and assist them in finding anything about your whereabouts (even if all he could do was improve their intimidation factor).

It was impossible for his superiors not to notice; he'd never actually volunteered to assist them before in anything (usually they had to resort to orders instead, which they expected to be honest). They did some investigating to find the source of his sudden eagerness, which led them to the same Soldat and Agent who'd seen the Mag fall for you (even if they hadn't realized it).

("I don't know, he just took the picture and wouldn't stop staring at it. He even growled at me when I tried to take it back!" the one-eyed grunt complained. The Engineer interviewing him tilted their head. Growling at other AAHW personnel wasn't rare, but it usually came as a result of some amount of physical pain, like when they needed to adjust the stakes in his head. But simple requests like this were typically seen as orders and he went along with them, even if reluctantly. How very odd.)

While they couldn't pin down the exact reason why the Mag seemed particularly fascinated with you, this didn't mean they couldn't use it to their advantage. The Auditor probably wouldn't have the best reaction to it (if the sudden deaths of some of their comrades who'd been more open in their admiration of you was any sign), so they had to keep it under the radar, but they'd be lying if they didn't try to fan the flames a bit. After all, the sooner they got this done, the sooner they could leave and go back to their central objective.

They ended up giving him a lot more work than they needed to, giving him the responsibility of searching the areas that led deeper into the city. In addition to this, they gave him more information about you than the other Agents would have. Just a few things they'd overheard from the conversations between the Auditor and another of the Employers (the Deliberator actually, not that they knew his name).

Mainly it was about how you'd behaved around them and before they had "officially met you" (whatever that meant). How you'd never said anything even remotely rude to them before the little "disagreement" that lead to your split with them, and even complimented them. How you actively helped them out in their work (well, the Auditor's at least), and ensured that their spirits were always high with your comments and just being yourself around them. How your presence filled them with a comforting warmth that they craved when you were away from them in any capacity. Besides this, you also seemed to show immense interest in Nevada before you "entered" (again, no context on that, but it sounded favorable?), genuinely caring for the welfare of its citizens as you tried to make all of their lives better if you could.

Deep down, Torture had always kind of yearned for something more when it came to his relationships with other grunts, or the lack thereof. He had long since given up on anybody being a true companion to him, but that didn't stop the loneliness from creeping in during those more unfavorable times. But now, perhaps he had another option. You were truly benevolent, even according to the Employers. If someone was close to them, then you'd surely like being around him, right? Nobody in Nevada was harmless, but certainly he'd consider himself less reprehensible than the Employers. (Which was probably true.)

He took on his new responsibilities easily, committing himself fully towards finding you. Not for the Auditor or the AAHW, but for himself. And luckily for him, his job had made it all too easy to do so.

You were in the middle of a mundane chore, just taking out the trash to the street (cause there weren't any garbage trucks in Nexus City, but that wouldn't stop you from cleaning up the place). After setting the heavy bag onto the concrete, you heard some very loud thumps, and felt them too. It was like you could feel the ground shaking as whatever it was came closer to the building.

You took a few cautious steps backward, holding your breath as a colossal shadow appeared from around the corner. But you stopped once you recognized who they were. Although you had to severely crane your neck, it was obvious. Who else would have two stakes crossed through their head?

He looked down at you, completely silent. "...Hi?" You asked hesitantly, and he tilted his head. You just stared at each other for a moment.

You didn't know what to do, to be honest. It's obvious that he's trying to find you to bring you back to the AAHW, which you wouldn't let happen. But why wasn't he doing anything? He was just looking at you, not even trying to grab you or even come closer. And what was he doing here anyway? Torture didn't show up until Madness 7?

While you were immersed in your own confused pondering, Torture was quietly admiring you. You were better than the photos had pictured you. They failed to capture the true depth of your expressions, and just how alluring you looked (even if your obvious apprehension at his appearance had stung a little bit. But he expected as much.). He had never really attributed the word pretty to anything before now.

He could also feel that warmth emanating from your form, even from a few meters away. It was calming and seemed almost cozy-something he had never been fortunate enough to feel before. He wanted more of it.

He took another step towards you, but just as you made the move to say something, the door behind you opened.

"Is everything okay? You've been taking a long time-" It was Sanford, having poked his head out the door to check on you, accompanied by Deimos. You glanced back to see them, only to see Deimos' cigarette fall from his mouth and Sanford pale considerably once they realized who was standing before you.

Deimos cursed under his breath before turning to run back into the base. "I'll go get Hank!" He called over his shoulder, and Sanford nodded, walking through the doorway as he reached for the gun with one hand and his hook with the other. Just what he needed, a Mag to fight. Although maybe a solo battle with one would impress you?

Torture growled, and you balked when he reached into his suit jacket to pull out a pistol of his own. Which wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't Mag-sized. You threw your hands up in a desperate attempt to get them to stop, but instead of your strings directing themselves to Sanford, they went to Torture instead, fixing themselves to his limbs and holding him tightly in place.

This only further pissed off Sanford, but just as he was about to take a shot at him, you ordered him not to. "Wait! Don't shoot him, he hasn't done anything!"

"But he's with the Agency!?" He argued back, and he did have a point. Anyone from the AAHW seeing you was awful since it meant that the Auditor was closing in on your location. You generally didn't have a problem with getting rid of any Agency grunts who you happened to come across. But Torture wasn't just some regular grunt. He was actually important, even if he wasn't a regular presence in the series. You weren't willing to let him die; it would mess up the timeline in a way you couldn't repair. Besides, you were rather fond of him before you entered Nevada anyway. You just hoped the Mag would see reason.

"I-yes, I know, but I'll be fine"-"I got Hank!" Deimos interrupted, throwing up the door to reveal the bloodthirsty grunt right on his heels, a large rifle in his grasp. You huffed in annoyance. This is the last thing you needed right now.

At the same time you were attempting to talk Sanford and Hank down, Torture was feeling conflicted. On one hand, he had the most wanted criminals in Nevada ready to kill him, one of which was the very enemy the AAHW had been created to destroy. He was in an immeasurable amount of danger by even being near them, even if he knows his training would make it hard for them to finish the job.

But the part that overrode this was the one affected by the way your strings had taken control over his body, rendering him helpless but ensnaring him in a feeling of safety nonetheless. He could feel the intense warmth of your presence over him like a warm blanket, clouding his senses in a fog that seemed so pleasant. Even as danger lurked just a few feet away, he was never so sure of his own wellbeing. You wouldn't let anything happen to him.

The way you staunchly defended him, even placing yourself between him and Hank only proved this. After a moment of tense discussion, you came to some form of a concession.

"You have to trust me on this, okay? Just like I trust you," you pleaded earnestly with them, hands clasped in front of you. The three looked between you and Torture, obviously still distrustful of him. But they never could resist it when you asked for something, so of course they broke eventually.

"Alright," Deimos grumbled. "Do what you have to. But he needs to be gone after the next ten minutes...It's not safe, believe me."

You sighed in relief and gave them a grateful smile, to which they turned their heads away slightly. They were still trying to stay angry, but it was difficult when you looked at them like that. It makes them all giddy, and now was not the time.

You turned to Torture, who seemed far more relaxed than you remembered him being a few moments ago. You gave him a rather apprehensive look but stepped closer to him anyway, loosening your strings so they weren't as restricting.

"Look, big guy. I know that you have a job to do, and I...respect that, but I can not go back there. Your boss is awful to me, and I'm not willing to put myself through that again. You get it, right?"

And he nodded, because of course he understood it. In fact, there were very few other people who understood just how cruel the AAHW could be. But hearing that they also victimized you was truly unexpected. You were just so nice, even to someone who should be your enemy. How could anyone do something evil to someone so benevolent?

It made him genuinely sorrowful, in a way his own torment hadn't. But on top of that, it filled him with no small amount of hatred towards the AAHW. He had already disliked them simply for their treatment of him, but to harm someone so good? It was simply unacceptable.

You smiled up at him after seeing his agreement, and he felt his heart stutter at the sight of it. His face grew hot and he reached a large paw up to scratch at his cheek in slight embarrassment. He couldn't help it, you just looked so cute. You were so small compared to him-far from helpless, but he couldn't help but have the urge to just protect you from everything.

"So you can probably understand why I don't want you to just go back to them and tell them where I am. In fact, I'd much prefer it if they didn't know we met at all. Can you do that for me?"

Torture nodded again, far more enthusiastically this time. He even made the motion to cross his heart as a promise, which you giggled at. He stopped in his tracks and tilted his head again, looking at you reverently from behind his glasses.

You were absolutely precious. And he'd make sure the Auditor wouldn't have you in his clutches again. If he had to lie to help you, then he would. He was already thinking up plans on how to lead them away too, which he's sure you'd appreciate. Perhaps, after this was through, he could break out and visit you sometime?

(After hearing Deimos yell, 2BDamned had walked through the base to one of its few in-tact windows. He balked at the sight of you conversing with what he recognized as an AAHW Mag Agent while the other three angrily talked amongst themselves. He quirked a brow with a sneer when he saw the gigantic grunt give you a long, extremely heartfelt hug before disappearing off into the dark city. The others were right, they really needed to move.)