#[r]: cloud of darkness

[soulofapatrick]

All The Time In The World - Aaron Hotchner x female reader

Summary: You got kidnapped and in the aftermath you need Hotch to erase it all

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: mentions of attempted r; hurt-comfort; ptsd; fluffy and angsty

Notes: I need to be stopped 🤣 I do plan on writing more Spencer but Hotch has my whole attention rn 🤣

Y/N’s POV

I stand under the cascading of water, the heat searing my skin as if it could burn away the memories etched into every fibre of my being. The events of the last few hours replay like a horror film in my mind, each scene more vivid than the last. 

I can still feel his hands, vile and invasive, creeping under my shirt, his putrid breath hot against my skin as he loomed over me with that twisted grin. The terror of those moments claws at my insides, threatening to consume me whole. But just as I thought I couldn’t fight him anymore, voice raw from screaming and back burned from the carpet below me as I fought to escape, my team burst through the door like avenging angels, their precise shots shattering the nightmare and saving me from the abyss. 

The water pounds against my skin, relentless, as if trying to wash away the stain of his touch. I scrub furiously, desperately, but the memory lingers, staining my skin with it’s foul residue. The sob claws it’s way up my throat as I scrub and scrub. I must have made more sound than I realised because Hotch’s gruff voice, filled with concern, pierces my cloud of panic. 

I manage only a small sound in response, my arms still wrapped protectively around myself, a feeble attempt to shield myself against the unseen horrors that haunt me. 

“Do you need anything?” His voice, usually firm and commanding, is now softened with empathy, a balm to my wounded soul. In that moment, I realise what I truly need. Without hesitation, I find the courage to voice my plea, a fragile whisper that hangs heavy in the air between us. 

“Join me.” I choke out, the words barely escaping my lips, carried by the trembling breath of desperation. I long for his presence, for the solid warmth of his body to chase away the chill of my fears. In him, I seek refuge from the darkness that threatens to consume me whole. I hear the hesitant shuffle of footsteps outside the shower curtain, a tentative response to my plea. And though the moment hangs in fragile uncertainty, I cling to the hope that he will hear the silent plea beneath my words, “Please, Aaron.” I whisper, the weight of my anguish heavy in the space between us, a silent prayer for him to bridge the divide and offer me solace in the midst of my despair. 

The bathroom fills with a heavy silence, broken only by the soft exhale that escapes Aaron’s lips. I hear the subtle rustle of fabric as his shirt hits the floor, followed by the metallic clang of his belt buckle hitting the tiles. Each sound sends jolt of panic coursing through my veins, a stark reminder of the nightmare I’ve just escaped. 

But then, like a lifeline cast in a storm, his arms wrap around me from behind, strong and steady, pulling me back from the edge of despair. I release a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding, the tension in my body melting away as his chest presses reassuringly against my back, a silent promise of safety in his embrace. 

His touch is gentle deliberate, as he silently pries my hands from where they cling desperately to my shoulders, nails biting into flesh in a futile attempt to anchor myself against the chaos within. I have to close my eyes against the onslaught of memories, tears slipping unbidden down my cheeks, each drop a testament to the agony that lingers beneath the surface. The scent of shampoo fills the air as Aaron reaches past me, his movements fluid and sure, retrieving the bottle provided by the hotel. 

I can’t help but tremble as his fingers thread through my hair, the sensation both soothing and agonising in its tenderness. His touch is a balm against the rawness of my wounds, a silent offering of solace in the world torn asunder by violent and fear. He works in silence, his hands moving with practiced ease, each stroke a silent prayer for healing, for redemption in the wake of tragedy. And though the tears flow freely, each drop a testament to the pain that will hold me captive for a long while, Aaron’s presence a beacon of light in the darkness, a reminder that he found me and saved me. 

But, even as he tends to me with such care, such tenderness, I can still feel the ghost of the UnSub’s touch lingering upon my skin, a stain that no amount of scrubbing can erase. It’s a thought that threatens to overwhelm me, to drown me in a sea of despair and self-loathing. 

As Aaron's hands tenderly cover mine, completing the ritual of washing away the remnants of terror that cling to my hair, I am consumed by a wave of overwhelming emotion. His touch is a lifeline in the darkness, a steady anchor in the storm raging within me. But even as he tends to me with such care, such tenderness, I can still feel the ghost of the UnSub's touch lingering upon my skin, a stain that no amount of scrubbing can erase. It's a thought that threatens to overwhelm me, to drown me in a sea of despair and self-loathing. 

And then, in the aftermath of my turmoil, Aaron’s arms encircle me, drawing me close as if to shield me from the pain that threatens to consume me whole. The weight of his presence is both a comfort and a burden, a reminder of the fragility of my own resolve in the face of unspeakable horror. 

My knees buckle beneath me, the weight of my grief too heavy to bear alone. I am lost in a tempest of sorrow, screaming sobs echoing against the tiled walls of the shower as Aaron cradles me in his embrace. Sobs so loud I’m sure the rest of the team can hear them from where they’re waiting on the other side of the bathroom wall, scattered across Aaron’s room. Aaron… He sinks to the floor with me, a silent promise that he will never let me fall, never let me drown in the darkness that threatens to engulf us both. 

In the sanctuary of his arms, I find release, the floodgates of my anguish opening wide as I surrender to the pain that has haunted me for so long. I’m adrift in a sea of memories, each wave crashing against the fragile shores of my sanity, threatening to pull me under. 

"It- I-" I choke on the words, my chest heaving with the weight of my sorrow, and yet Aaron waits patiently, his steady gaze a silent reassurance that I am not alone in my pain. And then, with a tenderness that takes my breath away, he presses a kiss to my wet hair, a silent vow to stand by me no matter the cost, "I can still feel him," the words are a whisper, barely audible above the rush of water, but they hang heavy in the air between us, a reminder of the scars that still linger beneath the surface.

“Do you trust me?” Aaron’s voice is a gentle murmur, a question whispered against the nape of my neck as his stubble brushes against my skin. I don’t speak, but nod, allowing him to pull me gently back to my feet. 

He turns me gently to face him, his russet eyes holding mine with a tenderness that belies the weight of the world we carry between us. There’s a gentlemanly grace in the way he looks at me, a silently acknowledgment of the wounds we both bear. And then, with a steadiness born of resolve, he reaches for the body wash, his fingers brushing against mine in a fleeting caress. 

I unfold my arms from around my was it, revealing the bruises and cuts that mar my skin, souvenirs of the darkness that still lingers within me. Aaron’s breath catches in his throat, a harsh exhale that echoes the pain written across his features. But there’s no hesitation in his touch as he picks up the shower sponge, his movements deliberate and unhurried, a silent promise of healing in the wake of devastation. 

He cleans me with a gentleness that borders on reverence, his hands tracing the contours of my body with a tenderness that speaks of love unspoken, of wounds too deep to fully comprehend. Each kiss he leaves upon my tingling skin is a testament to the intimacy we share, a silent vow to stand by me through the darkest of nights. 

But, even as the water prickles against our skin, a reminder of the heat that still burns within us, I find solace in the sanctuary of his embrace. His arms envelop me, a fortress against the storm raging outside, his face buried in my hair as if seeking refuge from the pain that threatens to tear us apart. 

I lean into his embrace, my head resting against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a lullaby in the chaos that surrounds us. In his arms, I feel small and fragile, but of so safe, cocooned in a love that knows no bounds. I want to hold onto this moment forever, to lose myself in the warmth of his touch, in the safety of his arms. But, reality intrudes, a harsh reminder of the world waiting beyond the confines of our sanctuary. 

“The girl?” My voice is a whisper against his chest, a question that hangs heavy in the air between us. He acknowledges it with a sound, a subtle shift in the air that speaks volumes of the burdens we both carry. And then, with a tenderness that pierces the silence like a knife, he steps away, turning off the water and pulling back the curtain. The moment is over, a fleeting glimpse of paradise in a world torn asunder by darkness. 

In the soft glow of the setting sun, Aaron stands like afire carved form marble, illuminated by the golden rays streaming through the window. His silhouette is a study in strength and face, even contour etched with the delicate touch of twilight. The light dances across his broad shoulders, casting shadows that play upon the sinewy muscles of his arms as he dries himself off, a vision of masculine allure bathed in the warmth of dusk. His dark hair, tousled and unruly, frames his face like a halo. His hazel eyes, molten gold in the fading light, fix upon me with a tenderness that steals my breath away, the corners crinkling with the ghost of a smile that sends my heart ablaze.

I can’t help but drink in the sight of him, from the proudest arch of his brow to the curve of his lips, each detail a testament to the beauty that lies within. My gaze lingers on the expanse of his muscled chest, the rise and fall to his breath a hypnotic rhythm that draws me in, until my eyes trace the line of his body, down past his happy trial to the heavy length settled between his thick thighs that has my eyes widening as he’s big. My mind going to what that would feel l-

“Eyes up here Princess,” his voice, low and commanding, pulls me from the reverie, sending shivers down my spine. It’s a command that I dare not disobey, though the temptation to linger upon the sight before me is almost unbearable. With a sheepish smile, I lift my gaze to meet his, the warmth in his eyes melting away the chill that lingers within, “Let me just get dressed, then I’ll give you a hand, okay?” His words are a  a gentle reassurance, a promise of solace in the tumultuous sea of uncertainty that threatens to engulf us both. I nod in silent acquiescence, my heart pounding in time with the rhythm of his footsteps as he crosses the room.

Each movement is deliberate, purposeful, as he slips back into his clothes, the fabric falling against his skin like a lover's caress. And as he draws nearer, his presence envelops me in a cocoon of warmth and safety, a sanctuary in the midst of chaos. Every touch is a symphony of tenderness, a silent declaration of love that transcends words. In his embrace, I find refuge from the storm that rages within, a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatens to consume us whole. 

As Aaron kneels before me, his touch a gentle caress against the bruises that mar my skin, I’m overcome by a flood of emotions too powerful to name. Each stroke of his hand is a silent prayer for healing, a testament to the depth of his compassion in the wake of tragedy. His lips leave sweet kisses in the wake of his touch, a balm against the wounds that still linger beneath the surface. I watch as his eyes flutter for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability in the depths of his gaze, and in that fleeting moment, I see the depth of his love reflected back at me. 

With trembling hands, I cup his face in my palms, the warmth of his skin a welcome embrace against the chill that still lingers in the air. There is a tenderness in his touch, a reverence that speaks volumes of the bond that binds us together in the aftermath of despair. And then, with a courage born of desperation, I guide his face down, my heart pounding in my chest as our lips meet in a chaste kiss. It is a moment of vulnerability, of raw emotion laid bare in the quiet sanctuary of our shared grief.

As Aaron pulls away slightly, his eyes search my face with an intensity that takes my breath away. In the soft glow of the dimly lit room, I see a myriad of emotions flickering in the depths of his hazel eyes – love, longing, and a hint of vulnerability. 

His lips brush against mine once more, a silent question lingering in the space between us. And then, as if drawn by an irresistible force, he leans in again, his kiss infused with a newfound passion that ignites a fire within me. I feel the heat of his touch against my skin, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine as our lips meet in a tender embrace. There is a hunger in his kiss, a longing that mirrors my own, as we lose ourselves in the depths of our shared desire. 

But even as the intensity of our passion grows, the kiss remains gentle, tender, a silent affirmation of the love that binds us together. In the quiet sanctuary of our shared grief, we find solace in each other's arms, our hearts beating as one against the darkness that threatens to consume us whole.

“That’s enough Princess, you need your rest. We have all the time in the world for this.” Aaron breaks the kiss, albeit reluctantly to help me finish getting dressed as my heart jackhammers in my chest but this time not from fear but from anticipation. 

With his help, I slip into clean underwear and a pair of his oversized tracksuit bottoms, their warmth a comforting embrace against the chill that still lingers in the air. He tends to my hair with a care that speaks of love unspoken, his fingers deftly weaving it into a bun as if to shield me from the chaos that threatens to consume us both. I make a mental note to ask him where he learned such a skill, a reminder of the mysteries that still linger between us, waiting to be unraveled in the quiet moments between storms. 

And then, with a quiet resolve that belies the weight of our shared sorrow, he holds out his shirt from the day before, a silent offering of strength in the face of adversity. I meet his gaze, the unspoken bond between us a lifeline in the darkness that threatens to tear us apart. With trembling hands, I slip my arms through the fabric, wincing at the ache that still lingers beneath the surface. He helps me button it up, each touch a reassurance that I am not alone in this battle, that together, we can face whatever demons may come. And as he leads me towards the door, the rest of the team awaits, their concern a silent testament to the bonds that bind us together in the aftermath of tragedy. 

As Spencer's eyes meet mine, a kaleidoscope of emotions swirls within their depths, threatening to spill over in a torrent of tears. His words hang heavy in the air, suspended between us like a fragile thread on the verge of breaking. JJ's grip tightens on Spencer's arm, her own expression a mirror of his turmoil, while Emily's hand flies to her mouth in a silent gasp of shock and disbelief. 

Morgan's jaw clenches with a fierce determination, his gaze a steel blade slicing through the tension that hangs thick in the air. Rossi's expression is stoic, a mask of controlled fury that belies the storm raging beneath the surface. And yet, despite the turmoil that threatens to consume us all, they remain steadfast by my side, a silent testament to the bonds that bind us together in the face of adversity. 

I shift uncomfortably under the weight of their stares, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of Aaron's embrace. His arms are still wrapped around my waist, a shield against the storm that rages within and without. 

"I-I don't want to be alone tonight," I whisper, the words a tremulous plea that hangs in the air between us like a fragile thread. And in that moment, it's as if a switch is flipped, the rest of the team springing into action with a sense of urgency that borders on desperation.

Morgan and JJ move with purpose, their movements swift and sure as they push the two double beds together, creating a makeshift sanctuary amidst the chaos that surrounds us. The others disappear from the room, only to return moments later with armfuls of pillows and duvets, their hands a flurry of activity as they arrange them with meticulous care. 

With a courage born of desperation, I turn to JJ and Spencer, my voice a tremulous whisper in the stillness of the room. "Will you sleep with us tonight?" The words hang in the air, laden with unspoken emotion, a silent plea for solace in the midst of our shared grief. They nod in silent understanding, their expressions a mirror of my own turmoil. Rossi takes the couch without complaint, a silent sentinel in the night, while Emily and Morgan settle themselves on the floor amidst the pillows and duvets, their presence a silent reassurance in the darkness that threatens to consume us whole. 

I nestle my head against Aaron's chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat a lullaby in the silence that surrounds us. Spencer's arm is thrown haphazardly across my waist, a silent vow to stand by me through the darkest of nights, while JJ's fingers brush against my hip in a gesture of comfort and support.

That’s how I fall asleep: My team, my family, surrounding me and the hope of something growing between me and Aaron in the future. Those words echoing in my mind. 

We have all the time in the world for this.

Criminal Minds Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

@guacam011y @rosaliedepp @kajjaka @alexxavicry

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Falling Stardust: Chapter One

Falling Stardust: You, an innocent and naive fallen star, tumble out of Morpheus’s cloak and get wrapped up in his possessive and dark love.

Warnings: None.

To Note: Dark!Morpheus x FemStar!Reader (Reader is Named Astra).

Word Count: ~2.2k

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“Something is wrong with the celestial ones,” Morpheus softly spoke, his eyes gazing up at the night sky of his beloved realm. “They’ve dimmed from what I remember. They used to be so bright, so luminous in their echoes of light and energy.”

“I’m afraid the stars have also suffered in your absence,” Lucienne offered in explanation, silently moving to stand beside her lord. “We have no way to converse with them so I fear that we may never quite know what ails them.”

“All is not well,” Morpheus murmured, his eyes reflecting the entities that hung in the sky. “Surely someone within the realm knows what is amiss…” Lucienne blinked then frowned as she ran through the dreams and nightmares within The Dreaming that might have an inkling as to what was wrong with the stars high above.

“Perhaps Nox knows what is amiss?” Lucienne asked, thinking of the dream of night and darkness. “Surely he would know as he interacts with the stars the most?” Morpheus nodded in agreement.

“Then to Nox we shall go for I fear the repercussions of losing the light of our celestial neighbors.” Morpheus said before striding away from the observatory, his coat flapping behind him. Lucienne followed him, wondering if this would be just as grave of a problem as the Vortex has been.

The pair left behind the palace and the village to walk down the winding road that led into the forest where Nox lived. He liked the darkness, to steep within the thick underbrush and hide from the light of the sun. If anyone lingered among the stars more than anyone, it would be Nox. The path to Nox’s humble abode was dark and full of overgrown plants that twisted and curled into the path ahead. But upon Morpheus approaching, they curled backward and disappeared into the underbrush in recognition of their master. There would be no hiding from Morpheus, nor evasion of inquiry.

Nox knew the moment his creator had set out for his home. It was inevitable the moment the celestial bodies started darkening, dying, even. Nox had long since soared in the skies, swam within the rivers of the stars until they became the kaleidoscope that those in The Dreaming saw overhead. He had befriended many a star, unlike the Dream Lord, and was privy to the secrets of the celestial beings very few had the privilege to converse with. So when Morpheus knocked on his door, he spared the door to his abode barely a glance before returning his eyes to the book he held.

“Tis open!” He called, licking his finger, and changing page. The door opened and Morpheus swept in, his presence filling the small cottage in an ever-expanding cloud. Lucienne followed behind shortly, eyeing the simplistic space. It needed more bookshelves, more books. Nox closed his book and set it aside, raising his nebula filled eyes to his creator.

“Lord Morpheus, to what do I owe the honor of this visit?” Morpheus raised an eyebrow at his creation. Surely Nox knew the reason for such a visit, his old and wise dream was no fool.

“We need to speak of a concerning issue within the realm.” Morpheus drew out, his eyes lingering on the vivid abysses of Nox’s eyes. He had been sculpted from the darkest depths of space to create the most beautiful and imaginative night sky, one worthy of stretching across the skies of The Dreaming. All who gazed up Nox were blessed with the twinkling claritude and swells of glowing life.

“To what issue of yours may I help with, my lord?” Nox aired out fluidly. “I am but the sky that graces your realm during its nocturnal cycle. What aid could I render to a being such as you?” Morpheus’s lips twitched, he had added, perhaps, a bit too much cheek to his incredible night sky.

“The stars, my precious darkness,” Morpheus answered, regarding his dream with a serious gaze. “They have dimmed, you of all of creations have the most interactions with the celestial ones. Tell me, what is happening to them that their light has faded so greatly?” Nox was happy to find that his creator cared enough about the celestial ones to investigate their dimming. To make them a priority among the many ailments The Dreaming still suffered from.

“My lord, they are the celestial ones of The Dreaming,” Nox answered as if the answer the Dream Lord sought was obvious. “You were gone for 106 years; the physical buildings were not the only ones to decay and crumble.”

“The celestial ones are their own power sources, are they not capable of sustaining themselves?” Morpheus queried, his brow furrowing. “What robs them of their light?”

“The celestial ones are their own power sources,” Nox agreed, “but they are also your stars, not just the stars of the known universe. Your magic was gone and they suffered.”

“But I am back, surely my return is enough to return them to their former glory. They are not young and inexperienced.” Morpheus said, still not understanding how such wise and old stars could lose such brightness.

“Sir,” Lucienne spoke up, remembering the solstice that had occurred at the beginning of the 1900th century. “The protostar aeon formation was due shortly before your capture. There was the birth of a new star.” She pointed out. “I have no doubt that the celestial ones spent all their energy reserves protecting the protostar. Surely that has had an impact on their brightness. They’ve neglected themselves to save the youngest of their kind.”

“The protostar,” Morpheus murmured, once again angry at himself for overlooking and missing out on such an event that only occurred once every aeon. The stars that brightened his realm were precious to him, illuminating his beloved dreams and nightmares. Morpheus hadn’t even taken the time to meet the protostar that had exploded into creation in a dynamic shower of light and beauty. In his captivity Morpheus had plenty of time to think about how he had ruled his realm, his people. He hadn’t been able to protect them and now that he was aware of the dangers to his creations and precious stars, Morpheus was determined to protect them at all costs. “Nox, have you been able to contact the elder celestial ones?”

“If I could my answer to you would be different, my Lord.” Nox sighed. “I would hopefully, have answers for you. But no matter how long I traverse the sea of stars they no longer speak to me and grow dormant.”

“Perhaps it is time to consult the library, my lord?” Lucienne interjected, knowing that no further information could be found at Nox’s home, nor from the dream himself. “Surely the books shall glean some sort of information that we can make use of?”

“Very well,” Morpheus smoothly replied, his eyes flickering to his head librarian. “Will you pull the text of old from the shelves?” Lucienne bowed her head.

“Of course, sir,”

Morpheus had been in an immensely broody mood since discovering that his stars had suffered from his absence. Even more so when he had remembered that he had missed the birth of the next star. The old celestial ones had given up so much brightness all to protect the one Morpheus should have been protecting.

“Uh, sir?” Matthew questioned hesitantly, not wanting the broodiness to be aimed at him. “Have you made any progress on talking with the stars?”

“No,” Morpheus grumbled, his eyes fading as he once again tried to expand his conscious to at the very least, feel the state of his stars. Nothing, just an abyss of silence that was hauntingly empty. Perhaps the celestial ones had lost their ability to communicate after protecting the protostar. But if they had lost a large portion of their power who was going to protect the young and vulnerable protostar? “I fear that the elder celestial ones might not be able to shelter the protostar from all that can harm them.”

“What happens if the elderly stars can’t protect the young one? Do they die?” Matthew asked in great concern, cocking head side to side and shuffling his wings. Morpheus’s eyes glowed with undying stars.

“Some die, collapsing in on themselves to form a mass of all that is left of their light, some explode into a shower of fire and destruction…” Morpheus trailed off, his mind lingering on the fate that all stars dreaded the most: falling. The celestial ones would rather have any fate other than to fall from the great expanse of space that cradled them in darkness and silence.

“Sir?” Matthew prompted. Morpheus drew himself out of his inner thoughts and looked to Matthew standing before him.

“To fall from their celestial cradle is the worst fate that can befall a celestial one, but it takes a great amount of power and energy to steal a star from its cradle, and a dark soul to rip one from their intimate home.” Morpheus’s eyes glimmered with unadulterated abhorrence at the mere insinuation that someone would do such a thing. Matthew felt a shiver run down his spine and knew that whoever knocked a star from Morpheus’ night sky, would have to deal with Dream of the Endless himself.

“Do you think someone is gonna try and knock a star down?” Matthew asked. “Because it sounds like your stars are vulnerable right now and that’d be the perfect time to—“ The smooth marble beneath Matthew’s little feet started trembling and shaking violently. The raven let out a squawk and took to the air as Morpheus surged to his feet. The eaves of the throne room groaned as the trembles continued throughout the realm, but not even Morpheus could cease the shaking instantly. No, he had to search his realm for the source of the intruding power wreaking havoc on his realm.

Morpheus was halfway through walking down the stairs to his throne when Nox and Lucienne stumbled their way into the throne room.

“My lord!” Lucienne called, alarm clear in her voice.

“I have almost located the intrusion,” Morpheus responded, his eyes glowing with stars. He found it and viciously severed the connection, breaking the attacker from being able to interact with his realm. The moment the intruder was severed from The Dreaming the trembles and shakes ceased.

“What was that?” Lucienne exclaimed, adjusting her spectacles which had gotten skewed from the trembles. “What being could have done such a thing?”

“A second Vortex?” Nox offered, his nose scrunched in confusion.

“No, we are not due for another one,” Morpheus spoke before looking down at Matthew who fluttered past him. “Matthew?”

“Uh, you’re gonna wanna look see this, boss,” Matthew spoke, landing a few steps up and staring at the lump that was beneath the tail of Morpheus star inlaid coat. He pecked at the corner of the coat and dragged it back to reveal a hand and arm. Dread filled Morpheus, the echoes to the celestial ones high above just strong enough for him to be aware that they had just lost a sister. Nox cursed loudly and darted forwards.

“Oh gods, please let it naught be her,” He breathed out, rushing up the stairs and kneeling down next to Matthew.

“Nox? What is it?” Matthew asked, not fully understanding the gravity of what had just occurred.

“Be naught her, be naught her, gods,” Nox repeated over and over as he reached forward. “Any of the celestial ones would be better than her.” Nox’s worst fears were confirmed the moment shimmering stardust hair was revealed. Nox pulled the cloak back far enough to reveal the face of a young woman. Upon closer inspection, Matthew could see shimmering metallic lines decorating unblemished skin in a unique pattern. She was almost inhumanely beautiful.

“So this is…?” Matthew questioned as Nox began weeping.

“A fallen star,” Morpheus answered softly, feeling the devastating loss echoing across the night sky as the elder celestial ones mourned their loss.

“It’s not just a fallen star, Lord Dream, it was the protostar that was stolen from her cradle.” Nox whispered painfully. “She never stood a chance! She’s too young and innocent!”

“Nox,” Morpheus called, slowly removing his coat. “The celestial ones need you; you must go to them to ease their pain.” Nox nearly reared back.

“You cannot expect me to leave her here in such vulnerability!?” He exclaimed, his face flushing. Morpheus covered the fallen star’s body with his coat before kneeling next to Nox and placing his hand on his shoulder.

“Nox, they are in need of you,” Morpheus gently reminded his dream. “There is nothing you can do to save her from this fate, you of all beings know this.”

“I will not leave her vulnerable, she is not even a quarter millennia old!” Nox weakly protested. Morpheus stared insistently.

“You think that I shall ever let any harm befall her?” He queried. “You have my upmost promise that I shall protect her with every part of my being, Nox.” Morpheus promised, the dream sniffed and rubbed his nose.

“Very well,” Nox softly replied. “My lord, you should know that she will not be used to either light nor sound, please be gentle, she— she is so young and precious… we must protect her, must protect her.” Nox shakily rose to his feet and with one last mournful look at the fallen star, trudged out of the throne room to ease the agony of the celestial ones.

Date Published: 1/18/23

Last Edit: 4/4/23

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[echantedtoon]

In The Moon's Shadow (Yandere Kokushibo x Reader) Ch13 A Vow

(Secondly this chapter will span again over the course of a few months and be mostly in Kokushibo's pov. Will have League of Legends references.

Warnings: Death, killing, some gore, blood mentioned, fighting, etc.)

A shriek pierced the blackness. 

Dusk having taken over the skies above and shrouded the skies above ...but glowfles from embers and fires lit up the night's darkness. 

Chaos was had as women clutched their children screaming as they ran trying to protect their young. Men were slaughtered and lying dead on the ground as the monsters rummaged about and pillaged and plundered what they came to get. A cackling monster held up a woman kicking and screaming hitting the creature with six arms no avail. 

"I like them feisty ones!" The girl sobbed and cowered as two others joined the monster's side as it hissed and lashed them away. "She's MINE!! BACK OFF AND FIND YOUR OWN- AAAAHHH!!" 

An inhuman screech went off into the night as a stronger forced ripped away arms from torso. Eyes turned and stared into the bloodlust abyss of six bloodshot eyes. A mix of shrieks echoed out into the darkened night above. So much blood spilt in that night that it might've even spilt into the moon illuminating red down on everything. 

R E D

That was the war paint splattered proudly across his body and coating his skin like a devil from the very flames that he walked through. Blood. Vengeance. C A R N A G E.

"It's not just an ambush.. IT'S THE ENTIRE KIBUTSUJI ARMY!!", a distant voice cried out to the bloodlust driven demon.

Throngs of monsters marched towards hell. Rows up on rows. Harbingers of fear and death towards his smaller glimmer of hope. Death would be plentiful surely. But not for his side..Darkness had come back to claim it's rightful place above these bringers of death.

"LORD TSUGIKUNI, WE SHOULD RETREAT! THERE'S TOO MANY FORCES COMING IN!! WE NEED TO REJOIN reinforcements!!"

"We march to battle."

Stakes were high. Hope fleeting. A redness never before felt cursed ran through blood. Bloodlust demanding the taste of flesh and sting of pain. Destruction of lives. Debowlbent of their very soul. The hands raking through the coals of fires and carving his deadly signature into this moment in time.

"FOLLOW ME INTO DESTRUCTION! I OFFER YOU VICTORY!!"

Deathly smiled directed at him offered nothing but death unknowing that it was they that met their death bringer..Their DEATHS tonight. A fate he was more than happy to give whether it be by bare handed flesh or stinging of steeled sword. He'll still taste the sweet copper red.

"COME. TAKE YOUR VENGEANCE!! TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THEM! BE THEIR WORLD ENDER!!"

The beasts had taken so much from them already. So much time lost. So many lives taken. The very land they walked up on was sucked dry of nutrients from their dark presence. So much already taken that will never be saved. Preserved. Grown back. They shall learn that there was things darker than their hearts with the abyss he would become. They would take back the innocence lost and stolen by them.  

An innocence filled smile came to mind to perfectly represent that innocence. Sparkling turquoise colors dancing his reddened vision.

"THIS IS YOUR DESTINY!! LET BLOOD BE OUR SACREMENT!! FIGHT OR BE FORGOTTEN!!" 

R E D 

The color clouded vision beyond reasoning. Inhuman yells of pain and murder carved way by him. One by one. Body by body. Life by life. Flesh torn from bone. Blood cleaved from muscles. Arms from torso. Limb from limb. He was a beast tonight. The thirst for blood was not just a want but a need. For tonight he was not a man. Not a demon. Nor anything else comprehendable by human thought.

F O R   T O N I G H T  H E  W A S  D E A T H   A N D  H E  W A S  B R I N G I N G  H E L L  W I T H   H I M. 

The darkness both swallowed him up and closed off the ways both in front and behind him making each end of the pathay difficult to see with the already limited vision he had. Heightened senses were one thing he had been thankful to have retained from years of harsh training to his body and mind. Closing off all senses to be more enlightened to one's world in a different light. Each echo of his footfalls ringing in his mind as the airways of his body forced himself to absorb more oxygen out of the air and each heart beat thudding against his ribcage. Throbbing sensation reaching from his head to his feet with every passing second he was surrounded by the buzzing swarm of danger. Enlightened by the stings of fear. Danger. Dread. Doom. Like many wasps penetrating his most basic human emotions and swelling them up to the point of combusting dangerously all over the peeping, teasing darkness. The soft silk touch of his yakata met his hand. It was hard to move...Hard to will it to move running along the soft fabric to something more smooth and hard. Both basic instinct wasps forcing him to do something so familiar to combat the combustible feelings. To grab at which to protect him and cut it away like a sickeningly sweet cake of misery and despair. Instincts wailing to protect himself from dangers he had yet to see. Had yet to reveal themselves to him. Hopefully to be chased away by the sounds of the silver blade being unsheathed and held out into the darkness to cut it's tainting self down a notch. That his willpower will always prevail over it. Each burning home slowly passing a tainting gateway. Each with a promise of safety behind it and perhaps even it had occupants inside using it. taking up it's offering of safety from the darkness now dead asleep highly unaware of the sword wielding warrier just roaming outside arm outstretched and staring down the one that dared teased him the most with it's fake promise of protection. 

And that promise he would soon come to learn was broken and not even promise to one individual soon enough. As sweat formed on his skin in an attempt to cool it from the harsh tainting from the moment he was face to face with the door that broke it's sacred promise. At first glance to one in the dark it was as taunting as all the others he had just passed, but if one took time to see it's true mockery and failure hidden by the teasing darkness they would've seen it. The remnants of a beast. Looking as though it had clawed and kicked it's way at the door's sacred locks to be allowed entry inside the room beyond it. In it's wake leaving the door in misery and ruins. A slight opening between itself and the wall where one could look into the room beyond it and see nothing but more darkness laughing back at you.

It begged for him to open it further, to peek further into the darkness beyond the door that should have protected the occupant inside. The surprising unburnt home was still, quite, far too quite for his liking. The broken splintered door only left so little to memory, and with cautious pushed aside he shoved the door open to reveal the horror to his eyes. His eyes widened. There where obvious signs of ransacking, evident by the turned over coffee table and the furniture pieces that lay toppled on their side as though someone had carelessly kicked it over in its rampage. The demon treaded carefully inside the ruined home, his shoe crunching on the remains of a picture frame that had been knocked over, its broken shiny cover a perfect match of the doorway half hanging from its hinges - the cover to what lay beyond broken to bits

What once was undoubtedly a very nice-to-stay-in room inviting for visitors was now reduced to what might've been a break in sight following the discovery of a murder. Which made the situation even more worse. A small gasp noise left his throat as his foot caught onto something. And the something that dared to trip him up happened to be a piece of fabric. MANY pieces of fabric in the form of clothing strew about in the darkness of the floor he hadn't seen at first among the shattered frame glass. Heart throbbing sensation still hammering his entire body as he turned and twisted his body around the room. 

CCCRRREEEAAA-

 In just one second his body reacted on it's own. twisting his body and holding his arm out to defend against the intruder...Only to let his nerves relax when discovering it was just the poor broken door slowly closing back to it's original poor position he had found it in. Internally cursing to himself at the overreaction it had caused him. At least...That was until he saw what was on the other side of the door he had missed upon initial entry. The gleam of a familiar metallic silver caught his eyes in the limited darkness he was able to make out and the shock at seeing it at first melted his sight and his mind raced. The door being the only thing to answer his shocked mind as it finally creaked back into place. 

The demon approaches slowly, one hand still gripped at his sword, fingers strumming against the wooden handle as if his nerves where itching to use it. Yet he remained stoic despite the clouds that where casting gathering to add to the storm inside his head. Upon closer inspection the knife in the door was too purposeful for this to be an improvised job, this job - this attack, this entire army had been planned from the start just as his father said. His eyes narrowed, other hand ripping the knife free from the blade that held it in place against the doorframe. The shining metal reflected the red staining his body and the eyes strained with hatred..

A inhuman scream tore through the night. An already broken door kicked off it's hinges as the demon walked back into the night seeking answers.

"What is the progress report?!"

"Lord Tsugikuni, Sir! All the survivors are rounded up as you asked!"

"The women! Did you check their eyes!?"

"Y-Y-Yes, Sir!," the soldier quivered and shook under the beasts drenched in blood. "N-No l-living woman has the eyes Y-You described."

"Did you even check the DEAD?!"

He ducked from fear and nodded. "Yes! Yes! Everything! We checked everyone! Everywhere! She's not here! I-If she was s-she must've fled already!"

A broken door was grabbed with an inhuman screech. Flown across the old pathway and into the remains of a still burning house. He was panting heavily... but he forced himself to relax. Now was not the time to lose his mind. Now was the time to think. Rationally. Logically.

"It does not matter now." Eyes much calmer from the heat of battle beforehand looked at the general. "Round up the men and send a message to my father to send more reinforcements here. In the meantime gather all the dead and bury them all. Does these flames. And begin tearing down the town. We'll rebuild this as a new in my own vision."

"And what of the survivors?"

"...I shall decide after I see them."

The demon turned casting the feeble blade to the ground as he marched off to a different area of the ruined town. A small clearing of grass filled with frightened people. Surrounding them were his men making them stay in place until they were ordered to do something with them. Most survivors were women and children. Most of the men in the village were killed protecting their families in the raid before he had arrived. They should be grateful to him but instead the children screamed and clung to their mother's and women cowered in fright upon seeing the demon dosed in the blood of their shared enemies. What few men were left stared in horror at him. Of course he was already expecting this but didn't care.

"Sir, it seems none of the women or children of the village were killed in the struggle." The demon's head snapped to the nearest soldier who flinched.

"Is that so? Why?

"Apparently according to a prisoner they were ordered to be taken in unharmed by one of Kibutsuji's general. General Akaza Hakuji. "

So she wouldn't have been killed. A  quick scan around told him she wasn't there. So where was she?

"Send a message to my brother that he will be receiving more survivors of war. Immediately." The demon turned back to the scared crowd of people. Pathetic. "I am looking for a woman who lived amongst you all." A hand stained with red pointed at his own terrifying eyes. "A woman in her early twenties with turquoise eyes. She's not here...Where is she?"

Terrified people did not speak other than the sobbing of women and the crying of children who clung to their parents and grandparents in desperation.

"I assure you no harm shall come to anyone who wishes to speak up. I only want to know the location of one person. She answers to the name of Y/n."

"The sick girl?" 

It was not but a whisper. No normal human would've been able to hear it, but the demon did. The bone cracking sound going off as he snapped his head to one young man sent the town doctor jumping. In a blink of an eye the demon was on him grabbing the front of his coat sending another wave of screams and fear through the crowd. The doctor yelled out as he was pulled mere inches away from the shifting eyes.

"This 'sick girl'. Where is she?"

"I-I don't know!" His grip tightened making his face pale like the corpses from battle. "I-I SWEAR TO YOU TO THE GODS!! I-I REALLY D-DONT KNOW!! N-NO ONE'S SEEN HER F-FOR THE PAST TWO MONTHS!!"

A widening of surprise the eyes gave. "Two months?"

The absolutely frightened man nodded completely fearful. "S-She came to me four months ago after getting constantly sick!" He slammed his eyes closed and turned away as he was pulled closer. "Shortly after she was diagnosed pregnant she disappeared and n-n-no one's seen her since!! I swear to you that's the truth!! I don't know what became of her!!"

Silence rang supreme.

The whimper and crying around him went silent as a ringing sensation filled his ears and one by one slowly every eye blinked at the shaking, crying man who was on the verge of tears now. 

"....What..was her diagnosis?"

"Pregnant! S-She was two months p-p-pregnant! S-S-She must be near four o-or five by now wherever she is! P-Please.." a sob left his mouth. "Please D-Dont kill me.."

Thud. A body was dropped to the ground...The lumbering form of the demon stepped away numbly. Stiffly. Staring at nothing as the world went quiet and a ringing went off through his mind.  The word ringing around his head and being unable to wrap his mind around the concept.

Pregnant 

The concept was lost. The word not having no meaning but yet...A deep feeling of pride and hope swelled in his chest that had him clutching the flesh hard enough to draw blood to his fingertips. The woman he had come to love and want..was carrying the next chapter of their lives together. And yet...The reality of the situation hit him harder than any enemy's sword. She was gone and she had their children. Vanished without a trace.

"LORD TSUGIKUNI!!," a desperate man ran up to him with a horror filled expression. "We just received word back from the east! The ambush here was just a distraction!! The real army is making their way through the east riverbank towards your city!! Your father's been killed!!"

The demon hardly flinched. Hardly moved at the desperation in his voice.

"LORD TSUGIKUNI WHAT IS YOUR ORDERS!?"

"....Send the survivors to Yorichii. Tell him to send reinforcements." The demon turned back towards the whimpering women. Eyes locking onto three individuals. "... Except those three." A hand pointed out three people. A terrified old woman, and a middle aged couple. "Take those three to one of the prisons. They are to be sentenced to the hardest labor until their dying breaths."

"Sir, where will you be going?"

"I tire of this endless war. If they insist on pushing them I shall end it once and for all. Even if the ground runs red with blood."

The white snow ran red with blood. Many lives were lost during the heats of battles. Many others lost at his terrible hands. Clawing and clawing and tearing and tearing until they had no choice but to flee ..to retreat. To wave the white flag and finally it was over.

Three bloodied years of conflict and pain. And it was over in a matter of months by his hands instead of following any of his father's plans. His mind was in a haze for so long. His father's body was recovered in the middle of the battlefield and taken back to his home to be buried. His mother wept for days following after the funeral but he didn't shed a tear. He was too busy with the whirlwind of responsibilities thrusted upon him. As his father's heir, he was now head of his family. He did not have time for useless tears and feelings concerning one who was already dead. During this time Yorichii was silent and kept distance from him which was a blessing. Knowing his brother he must've sensed the tension shrouding his form and wished to give him space as he sorted out everything there was to be taken cared of. He'd still have to see the Kibutsuji head of clan to see where they would go from here. His mother urged him to seek peace finally ...For her sake (and what was left of his sanity's sake) he would go that route. But one thing kept revolving around in his mind. One thing he wanted. One thing he NEEDED most of all.

"I vow to find her. Even if I have to dig my way to hell and drag  her from the flames. Even if I have to claw my way to the heavens and fight the gods for her. I will find her and bring her back to me......I love her."

His mother had been concerned about his state of mind and for once he confided in her. Burdening her as he held her frailer form close and buried tear stricken eyes into her shoulder.  

"I knew there was something deeper to this." Her soothing voice shushed him as her weak hands gently held him. "There, there. Everything is going to be alright."

"I should not have left her. I should have stayed."

"You were being followed. If you had stayed and they found you there then she would have been in more danger. You were only trying to protect her," Akeno 's words did little to comfort her son.

"They did follow me! That's why they attacked that village! The end results would not have changed! She must think I have abandoned her! She has my child!....And for once...I am lost for an answer. I do not know what to do."

"The answer is simple, Michikatsu."

Soft hands gently reached out to pull the tearful face from her shoulder. Six eyes lost staring at the stern look of the woman who looked firmly. Spoke sternly.

"You pull yourself together and you go find her."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Months passed since the bloodshed that had unknowingly spilt on the other side of the mountain.

Spring was the first season after a harsh long winter's nap. The second month into this season was already producing little buds blooming amongst the tree branches and pretty little flowers pushed their way from the once cold ground from a long deserved slumber. A single cottage with its doors and windows wide open was already welcoming in the warmer air as the occupants were hard at work cleaning the home after a long winter stuck inside. A series of bubbles were thrown out of a soapy bucket of water. The woman handling the bucket paying no mind as she cleaned the hardwood floors beneath her. The bubbles flew through the air hitting the light of the warm sun making them sparkle as they flew through the air and towards the sanctuary of a pile of blankets.

Eyes filled with wonder stared up at the sparkling floating objects. Wondering little hands reaching out to them as if they were some gift from the skies. A small noise of curiosity being given as the biggest bubble missed the hands and stopped in front of the wide eyed..And popped startling the big eyes.

".....Aaaaaaahhhaaaahaaaa-"

"Oh, Yuichiro. Not again." Two hands reached out to pull the infant from the bed he laid up on and began to lightly bounce the crying baby. "Shh. Shh. It's just a bubble. You shouldn't be afraid of such a harmless thing."

Despite his mother's comforting words, the baby still cried startling his brother's sleeping form awake and whimpering confused at the sounds of his brother making their mother sigh.

"Not easy having twins is it?" Their mother shot a glare at the man who chuckled. "Just kidding."

Rolling her eyes their mother looked back to the whimpering baby who sniffled staring at her with the same turquoise eyes. "Silly boy. You're going to be a troublemaker when you grow up."

[paperanddice]

Carrion eating butterflies are very rare, but do exist. They aren't a threat to living creatures, as their method of eating isn't effective against living tissues. They don't damage or destroy, they simply lap up the liquid from rotting meat to gather nutrients. This changes however if they feed on the flesh of a corrupting creature, such as a demon or other fiend. The influences of the Abyss warps the butterflies, giving them not just the desire to feed on more active meals, but the capability of doing so, as well as a hunger that isn't satiated no matter how much they eat. A single death butterfly is only a threat to small insects, and is more a bother like a mosquito, leaving small patches of irritated skin from its touch. A swarm can melt the flesh off of a person in a matter of moments, the potent poison necrotizing and liquefying flesh so that the butterflies may drink it. Not even undead are safe from this poison, dissolving under the weight of a death butterfly swarm just as a living creature would, and some druids have even considered using them as anti-undead weapons. Such use would have to be under careful supervision however, as the swarm would quickly turn to devouring living tissue as soon as the undead threat has been neutralized.

The next stat block after the death butterfly swarm is the deathwisp, but honestly I'm just going to quickly cover it here as a variant wraith. For Pathfinder 2e, a deathwisp is an elite wraith with the following additional features:

Flicker [reaction] Trigger The deathwisp is targeted by a ranged attack; Effect The deathwisp gains a +2 circumstance bonus to AC against the triggering attack. After the attack resolves, the deathwisp Flies up to 10 feet. Shadow Jump [1 action] (divine, shadow, teleportation); Frequency once per hour; Requirements The deathwisp is in dim or dark light; Effect The deathwisp teleports to a square within dim or dark light within 40 feet.

For 13th Age, a deathwisp is a wraith with the following nastier specials:

Flicker: The deathwisp gains a +2 bonus to AC and PD against ranged attacks. Shadow Jump: 1/battle, as a quick action, the deathwisp can teleport to a nearby location it can see.

Inspired by the Tome of Beasts 1. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

Pathfinder 2e

Death Butterfly Swarm Creature 4 Large Animal Swarm Perception +9; darkvision Skills Acrobatics +10, Athletics +5 Str -3, Dex +4, Con +2, Int -5, Wis +1, Cha +2 AC 20; Fort +10, Ref +12, Will +9 HP 45; Immunities precision, swarm mind; Resistances bludgeoning 5, piercing 5, slashing 2; Weaknesses area damage 5, splash damage 5 Speed 5 feet, fly 35 feet Swarming Bites [1 action] Each enemy in the swarm's space takes 2d6 piercing damage (DC 18 basic Reflex save). A creature that fails its save is exposed to death butterfly swarm venom and takes a -10 foot status penalty to its speed until it ends its turn outside of a death butterfly swarm's space. Death Butterfly Swarm Venom (poison) This poison ignores any poison resistance or immunity an undead target that isn't incorporeal has. Saving Throw Fortitude DC 18; Maximum Duration 4 rounds; Stage 1 1d6 poison damage and sickened 1 (1 round); Stage 2 1d6 poison damage and sickened 2 (1 round); Stage 3 2d6 poison damage and sickened 2 (1 round).

13th Age

Death Butterfly Swarm  Large 3rd level wrecker [beast]  Initiative: +7 Vulnerability: Cold Poisonous Cloud +8 vs. PD (1d3 nearby enemies) - 10 ongoing poison damage, and after the attack the death butterfly swarm engages one of the targets. Potent Poison: The death butterfly swarm treats its natural attack roll as 5 points higher for the purpose of overcoming poison resistance. Flight. No Opportunities: The death butterfly swarm can’t make opportunity attacks, and enemies can’t make opportunity attacks against it. Swarming Resistance: Each turn, the death butterfly swarm gains resist damage 18+ to all damage from attacks by enemies the swarm did not attack that turn. AC 17 PD 18 MD 12 HP 88

[loveisafire-warriors]

SUFFIXES

A suffix is a Title, and must be used to show respect. Each Suffix represents the cat who earned it based on their leaders view, and it is important to instill loyalty early.

belly, chuckle, laugh - cat with a big sense of humour

berry, blossom, cloud, moss, most flowers - a sweet, soft and kindhearted cat

chime, song, whistle - a cat with a soft, approachable voice and demeanour

branch, wood, any type of tree - a supportive and nurturing cat

dream/er, hope, wish : a cat with many dreams

bloom, leaf, sprout, seed : a cat who has just begun to grow and shows great promise

beam, bright, day, glimmer, glow, light, shine, sky, spirit, summer : a cat with a bright personality

ripple, skip, slip, splash, spring : a very upbeat and active cat

dawn, dew, morning, twilight : a cat who is often first to rise

charm : a charming cat

evening, log , noon, yawn : a calm laid back cat

breeze, brook, creek, drift, gust, stream, water : a cat who goes with the flow

bay, cove, pool, lake : a calm, serene and intelligent cat

pond, puddle : a sweet sometimes shy or silly cat who is reflective and intelligent

field, forest, marsh, meadow: a calm and serene cat; an intelligent cat “vast/deep”

web : a cunning, intelligent cat

mew, mumble, whisper : a quiet cat

abyss, cave, echo, fog, ghost, haze, mist, murk, pit, riddle, smoke, trench : a mysterious, strange, and often quiet cat

dusk, gloom, midnight, night, shade : a cat with a somber “gloomy” personality

chill, frost, ice, shiver, snow, winter, freeze, icicle : a cat with a particularly cold or serious personality

bark, pelt, scale, shell : a tough cat, often emotionally tough

boulder, rock, stone, stump : a stubborn immovable cat

crest, hill, peak, pinnacle, ridge, spire : a cat who is noble and proud

cliff, mountain : a stubborn immovable cat AND a cat who is noble and proud

heart : a cat who is full of love and care and a cat who is noble, proud and brave

wolf : a cat who finds family to be very important, and cares deeply about their Clan; a large, strong cat

avalanche, crash, flood, gale, rubble, wave : who is an immovable force who will keep going no matter who in in the way

call, cry, hoot, howl, throat, thunder, yowl : a particularly loud cat who is not afraid to call out others

blaze, burn, char, cinder, ember, fire, flame, flicker, flint, lightning, scorch, singe, spark : a cat with a strong fiery personality; this cat often has a lot of energy; often a great fighter

claw, scratch, strike, swipe, talon : a cat who is very skilled in battle; they fight ferociously with their claws; may have distinctive claws, most likely extra large or sharp

blood : an especially vicious cat; alternatively: a cat who is especially devoted to their kin

bone : an especially vicious cat and an especially strong cat “has strong bones”; a dark and mysterious cat

bite, fang, jaw, teeth/tooth, snap : a cat who is very skilled in battle; they have powerful teeth and jaws and have a biting centric fighting style; this cat is out spoken and have a bite to their words; may have distinctive teeth, most likely extra large or sharp

bristle, growl, hackle, snarl : a particularly grumpy and/ or aggressive cat

snake : a quick, cunning cat who is good at fighting

briar, burr, needle, quill, shard, spike, thistle, thorn, hornet, wasp, sting : a cat who has a bite to their words

dog, hound : a loud, vicious cat who is especially good at tracking. Alternatively in Shadowclan, a kind and loving cat who is ferocious to defend what they love

blizzard, hail, rain : a cat who is powerful in battle; strong and fights like a storm; this cat has a cold personality

storm, whorl : a cat who is powerful in battle; strong and fights like a storm

dance/r : a cat who’s fighting style looks akin to dancing; a cat who is upbeat and always on their feet

chaser, comet, flash, leg, runner, rush, streak, wind : an especially fast cat; a cat who can run long distances; a cat who can keep up with fast prey and their opponent

bird, flight, swoop, wing, hare, rabbit : this is an especially fast cat and/or a cat especially good at jumping; this cat is often upbeat and/or always has energy

bat : this is an especially fast cat and/or a cat especially good at jumping; this cat is also especially good at traversing the night and dark places

jump, leap, pounce : a cat who is especially good at jumping and leaping

fall, tail : a cat with great balance and who always lands on their feet; often a jack of all trades as balance is used in almost every skill

catch/er, hunt/er: a cat who is very skilled at catching prey

crawl, crouch, snare, stalk/er, trap : a cat who is especially good at stalking prey or their opponent without being seen or heard

dive, fin, swim/mer : a cat who is very skilled at swimming Fisher : a cat who is a very skilled fisher

frog : a cat who is especially good at jumping and swimming; a cat who has tough skin

ear : a cat with especially good hearing; also possibly very perceptive

eye, gaze, seeker, sight, watcher : a cat with especially good eyesight; this cat can spot things that others cannot

nose, snout : a cat with a great sense of smell and tracking abilities

whisker : a cat with especially good senses and spatial awareness: this cat is especially good at sensing things with their whiskers

foot, pad, path, step, stride/r, toe : a cat who is light on their feet; a cat who carefully thinks out their steps and actions; a cat who is sure of themselves, and is confident in their actions

rat : a small and/or quiet cat; a nimble cat who is able to walk quietly; this cat is also aggressive and puts up a fight

feather, mouse: a small and/or quiet cat; a cat who is light on their feet; a nimble cat who is able to walk quietly

burrow, dig/ger, tunnel/er, mole : a cat who is especially good at digging and traversing tunnels and burrows

fox : a cunning and quick cat; a cat who is good at traversing tunnels and burrows

dust, muck, mud, soot : a cat who is not afraid to get their paws dirty; a cat who is hard working; a cat who often helps with building

brush, burrow(repeat), bush, hollow, shrub, thicket, twig, builder, den : a cat is especially good at building; a cat who spends much of their time helping around camp and fixing dens

beaver : a cat who is always busy; a cat who is especially good at building

bee : a cat who is always busy and hard working; a cat who is calm unless provoked, and will always protect their home

bug : a small and hard working cat; a cat who is always up to something

[blackvahana]

Unknown Void(?) language, 17/6/24

Lev pointed out last night that, while I was seeing it English, the self-writing book I was working with was actually recording in the same language(?) that the book now at the bottom of the gas-giant-cum-abyssal-ocean was written in.

I don’t want to get too much into it because I’d rather stream it out of me before dissecting it so I don’t start trying to force it into beliefs and rules surrounding what I think it should be…. Guess I’ll just get myself to write another couple pages.

The writing is partly linear. Taking this sketch of one page for example:

All of it’s in black, red’s just to illustrate something later.

The major theme(s) of the page are way bigger than the rest of the writing, sort of leaving it a little like a word-cloud-meets-magnet-altering-iron-filings, the words of the entire things bend towards the main concept… Except they don’t? They do? They heavily seem like they do. It’s more like those realistic portraits that are contained in perfecty concentric circles, you just see a face because the width of the lines is changing in relation to the features of the person being depicted, but the intent to depict the face is there like the intent to depict the gravitation is here.

Various important “words” pop out as larger, though this kind of shows (me) that it’s a… Syllabic set of characters? Characters are a mix between syllables of energy and meaning strung between them, so to a human on this plane’s mind it would pobably be classified as letters/syllables, but the syllables are strung together into temporary characters. This is hard to explain because that may seem like arguing that English words are “temporary characters”, but the difference is that when strung together they energetically become one whole. Think of English letters forming words as bits of pipes screwed together to act as one pipe, characters like kanji as singular tubes of whole pipes, and this more like when you screw the “letters” together they magically merge into one pipe with no screws. Bad metaphor.

It's a very expression-based language. Think of the whole syllabic symbols as words things like how w-o-r-d becomes "werd" when spoken, a single sound, a single unified thing, because we don't speak "w-o-r-d", the act of writing here is much more like the act of speaking than writing. Anyway

Now to the red part. The symbols are written in a way that reminds me of musical notation with sharps and flats. A base character, like a primal sound, is written and then altered by strings of characters above and below it. It’s sort of like writing:

ing driving driving

I go car shops home

am using to to

… to say effectively “I’m going to the shops then coming home”, constructed more like “I am going (driving) to the shops then to (driving) home” with various parts of that conceptualisation implied or spoken in different parts.

Lighter more transient alterations are on top, these are very solar based in my head, then heavier more stagnant, grounding things are on the bottom which are lunar based, though I think it might be more day-night, or light-dark based… I’d have to figure out which person incarnated into me is talking about this though and where it comes from because for me personally sun is grounded, heavy, and stagnant and then the Moon is transient and light.

Actually, I’ve been theorising that this is some version of Void Fae/Shadow Person type talking for. obvious reasons, but if this was more so Light Void + Dark Void = Void that would make more sense. Still, though, I can’t help but notice I smell Grey on it, I guess there’s nothing saying he didn’t learn this from someone and add it to his menagerie of languages.

I am wondering if maybe he took a Void language and then repurposed it slightly in order to call on the Void, which…. Hmm. Possibly. I’ll need to gather selves and investigate.

There is definitely a spoken version of this, I dug it up in muscle memory and oh boy am I not speaking it outside religious and ritual and magical stuff. It’s vibratory, very heavy and intense in, well, vibration. That’s part of why I’m like “Grey, where are you with regards to this..” because. Dragon Gets His Hand On Void’s Open Secrets vibes. Anyway. It's growl-y, it's heavy, it's watery

It’s also very sigil-esque not visually but in terms of magic and manifestation, and sigils are already tied to the Void. It reminds me of a distant great great aunt or something of the “Take an intent, turn it into a sentence, reduce it to letters, then sigilise it" type of sigils, in the way that a younger generation may start trying to reinvent disco while calling it something else without realising its the same kind of thing. In this case though, it's more like the Void expressing itself in parts like this and forming sigil-esque expressions that are only being labelled sigil-esque because people on this plane generally only know how to do what it does through sigils.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 13. found.

and if i could turn back the clock, i'd make sure the light defeated the dark. - Calum Scott, You Are The Reason

S E P T E M B E R   1 8 T H   2 0 1 1 continued.

I paced restlessly outside the shed, feeling like a caged animal trapped within invisible walls. The frustration of constantly hitting barriers and retracing my steps was overwhelming. It was like being stuck in a nightmare where someone I cared about was in danger, and I couldn't do anything to help. Even though my team was inside, working hard to save her, I couldn't shake off the feeling of powerlessness.

Each passing minute felt like an eternity as I anxiously waited for any sign of progress. Finally, JJ emerged from the shed, and I rushed towards her with a flood of questions in my eyes.

"We need you inside," she said gravely, her tone serious and urgent. "You were right. This whole situation is about you, and we can't move forward without your help."

A surge of urgency shot through my body as I followed JJ back into the shed. My mind was buzzing with a whirlwind of thoughts, considering all the possibilities and potential outcomes of the situation.

As we entered, I observed the team gathered outside the concealed room, their expressions a mixture of determination and uncertainty. They weren't outright arguing, but it was clear that there was disagreement about the best course of action. Some seemed to advocate for caution, while others appeared more inclined to take swift and decisive steps. You could feel the tension in the air as everyone debated their best plan.

Just as I moved to enter the room, Hotch intercepted me with a firm grip on my arm. "Hold on, not yet," he instructed, his tone serious and commanding. "You can't just rush in there."

"But JJ said-" I started to protest, but Hotch interrupted me before I could finish.

"Listen," he interjected, his voice stern. "We do need your help, but rushing in blindly won't do anyone any good. You're too emotionally involved right now. We need your clear thinking and your knowledge of this place. Help us strategize instead."

I took a deep breath, mentally bracing myself for what was to come, and then nodded firmly. "Alright, tell me what we're dealing with," I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling within me.

Hotch pushed me closer to the group, and I found myself encircled by my teammates. Reid had sketched out a rough blueprint of the building, detailing the hidden room and the positions of Maile, James, and the menacing weapons aimed in their directions.

Rossi's voice broke the tensity. "She's forcing you to make a choice, Alex," he said gravely, his words hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

Reid quickly followed with an explanation. "The guns are rigged so that if you disable one, the other will fire. If you save Maile, the gun pointed at James will go off," he explained.

A wave of dread swept over me, dragging my heart down like a heavy weight in my chest. Despite the lingering bitterness in my relationship with James, the thought of him facing such a dire fate filled me with a profound sense of sorrow. Regardless of our past conflicts, I couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't deserve to meet his end like this.

But the mere notion of Maile's demise plunged me into a deep abyss of despair. The idea of losing her felt like losing a piece of my very soul, a part of me so essential that its absence would leave me utterly incomplete. The thought of her being torn away from me was unbearable, as if a core part of my identity would perish alongside her.

"I refuse to believe this is our only option," declared firmly, the strength of my conviction pulsing through every word. "Ira's attachment to her life with James is too strong. She wouldn't allow him to die. And she's well aware that I'll choose Maile."

I was certain of my conclusion. Ira wouldn't let her fiancé die. It went against everything I knew about her. Her devotion to him was too strong, even if her ability to think clearly was compromised.

"Where is she anyway?" I asked them.

Hotch answered quickly yet carefully, almost scared of what he was about to say. "We haven't found her yet."

"She can't be far," I pressed, a sense of urgency creeping into my words. "She wants a front-row seat. And I have a strong hunch about where she might be watching from."

Approaching Reid's rough sketch of the building, I grabbed the pencil and marked an X where the door to the observation room was. "There's a secret passage," I informed the team. "It leads to a room with monitors displaying live footage from all the cameras in this place."

Reid furrowed his brow in curiosity. "What was that room used for?" he asked.

Glancing up at him, I composed myself. "So he could relive her abuse," I replied calmly, though the gravity of the situation weighed heavily in my words.

"So, what's the plan?" JJ jumped in, breaking the tense silence of the realization that Maile's life was worse than they thought it'd be.

Morgan took charge, proposing, "I say two of us head up there to reason with Ira, figure out a way to disarm those guns without risking anyone's life. Meanwhile, the rest of us brainstorm a backup strategy."

Hotch nodded, acknowledging the proposal. "Blake, any other way into that room?"

"Yeah," I confirmed, grabbing the pencil and mapping out a complex route through a network of tunnels. "Following this path should lead you there as well. Or at least it used to back in the day."

"Alright," Hotch continued, his tone firm. "Morgan, Dave, you two head up there. Keep your communication devices on at all times. We need to stay informed about every move."

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, a tense silence hung over us as we awaited Morgan's next update. Then, at last, his voice crackled through the earpiece, breaking the stillness like a sharp crack of thunder. "Ira Listunova, FBI. We know you're in there," he announced firmly, his tone a mix of authority and caution, signaling their entrance into the room where Ira was thought to be hiding.

We held our breath, hanging on every word, bracing ourselves for what might come next. And then, there it was—the sound of Ira's voice cutting through the tension with unsettling confidence. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted them, her words laced with a chilling calmness that belied the gravity of the situation.

The weight of her words hung heavy in the air, each syllable laden with unspoken implications and veiled threats. It was clear that Ira was no ordinary adversary; she was a formidable opponent, one who approached this deadly game with a calculated precision that made her all the more dangerous.

As we gathered close, the anticipation in the air seemed almost tangible, each of us yearning for even the smallest glimmer of hope amidst the overwhelming challenge before us. Then, breaking through the heavy silence, Reid's voice rang out, carrying an urgency that demanded our full attention.

"I think I might have something that could help," Reid declared, his tone a mix of determination and nervousness. We leaned in, eager to hear his idea for navigating the dangerous situation we found ourselves in.

Pointing towards the intricate diagram he had sketched out, Reid began to outline his strategy. "We're aware that attempting to untie them could trigger the guns," he explained, his voice steady despite the circumstances. "But as I studied the setup, I noticed something peculiar about the way they're rigged. And then I followed the wires to the control box."

With each word, a glimmer of hope began to shine through the darkness, the possibility of a solution emerging from the depths of despair. "I remembered seeing a trigger lock on the box," Reid continued, his words punctuated by a sense of revelation. "It's secured by a numeric code. Six digits, to be precise."

"And?" JJ prompted, her voice impatient as she awaited the next crucial piece of information.

"Alright," Reid started, his brow furrowed in concentration as he delved deeper into his analysis. "We're aware that Ira fixates on Alex's top two significant relationships, right? So, any big happening related to either of those could be what she's fixated on. She's particularly sensitive about feeling like she's not the first choice, which helps us narrow down the possibilities."

Reid turned his attention to me, indicating it was my turn to speak, to share more about my past, my life experiences.

Then Hotch asked with both urgency and concern. "Can you provide us with any details? Breakups, conflicts, anything that might give us the code?"

Thinking back on my tumultuous relationship with James, I recounted the key moments. "We didn't take any breaks, but we decided to split on May 15th, 2009."

Before I could delve further, JJ interjected with a pointed question, "Isn't that just eight days before-"

I anticipated where she was going and finished her sentence, acknowledging the significance. "Yes. The next important date would be our divorce which was finalized on September 3rd, 2009. But the moment that probably matters most to her is our first major argument about Maile."

That memory was still vivid, like a scar etched into my mind. It was the first time I felt both love and hate towards the same person.

"February 8th, 2002," I added, recalling the date. "Fifteen years after my last celebration with her."

Hotch grabbed his communication device, his finger poised over the button with a sense of urgency "Dave, could you ask her about February 8th, 2002?" he instructed, his voice filled with anticipation.

We all leaned in, our ears tuned to Rossi's voice as he initiated the inquiry. "Hey, Ira," Rossi began, his tone measured yet probing. "I'm curious about something. How does the date February 8th, 2002, resonate with you?"

In the tense silence that followed, every breath felt magnified, our collective attention fixed on the response we awaited from Ira. Though her facial expressions remained hidden, the pregnant pause in her breathing hinted at the stirring of deep-seated emotions within her.

"I must respectfully disagree," she replied with a hint of defiance in her voice. "There's nothing of importance to report." But beneath her words, we could sense the unspoken truth, a subtle evasion dancing in the air.

"I'm going in," Hotch declared. "Stay here unless I instruct otherwise." His words carried authority, but there was also a hint of caution, reminding us to follow his lead and wait for further instructions.

The weight of uncertainty pressed down on me, a heavy burden that seemed to consume my every thought. Each moment dragged on, stretching into an agonizing eternity filled with unanswered questions and lingering fears. Time seemed to warp, distorting reality as we waited for the decision that would determine our fate.

Then, in a sudden moment of clarity, a single beep pierced the silence, breaking through the oppressive atmosphere like a sign of impending finality. It cut through the tension, leaving an undeniable mark on our senses. With held breath, we waited, caught between hope and despair.

Hotch's urgent call for medics shattered the stillness, jolting us into action. Reid and JJ surged forward with purpose, their urgency driving them towards the heart of the unfolding crisis. The arrival of the medical team followed swiftly, their determined strides reflecting the seriousness of the situation.

A surge of emotion welled up inside me, a primal urge pushing me to jump into action, to offer any help I could. But as I tried to move, a chilling realization hit me – my body wouldn't respond. I was stuck, unable to do anything, gripped by fear as I struggled against the paralysis that left me helpless in the face of danger.

As the stretcher carrying my ex-husband passed by, a flood of conflicting feelings washed over me, stirring up memories and emotions long buried. In that fleeting moment, the past collided with the present, weaving together a tangled web of regret and longing. But amidst the chaos, a newfound clarity emerged, breaking through the fog of uncertainty that had clouded my mind.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I pushed myself forward, driven by an unshakeable determination to confront the demons of my past. Questions swirled around me, demanding answers, but I remained resolute. In that crucial moment, my focus shifted, drawn towards the woman whose absence had left a profound void within my being.

As I entered the dimly lit room, my eyes fell upon her form, trapped within the harsh grasp of mechanical restraints. The chains wrapped around her arms, stark against the paleness of her skin, revealing the cruelty she had endured. Her once-lovely face bore the scars of her suffering – dried blood streaked across delicate features, while bruises painted a painful picture on her skin.

Despite the visible wounds, there was a striking resilience in her demeanor, a defiance that shone through the darkness threatening to engulf her. In her battered state, I found a glimmer of hope amidst the despair, a reminder of the unyielding strength residing within her.

Hotch's frustration was evident as he struggled with the stubborn restraints. "I can't get them off," he confessed, his voice tinged with exasperation and a hint of resignation.

Fueled by the injustice of our situation, I said: "Then I'll find that woman myself."

But Hotch's response stopped me in my tracks, his tone laced with a steely resolve that left no room for argumentation. "No," he commanded firmly, his gaze unwavering as he closed the distance between us.

His next words were delivered in a hushed whisper, laden with an intensity that belied their softness. "You stay here," he urged, his voice a gentle caress against the tumult of my emotions. "She needs you... And you need her."

As I silently nodded, a path seemed to open up before me as I moved through the crowd of worried faces, making my way towards her. Despite the pain that clouded her features, there was a certain glow emanating from her, a radiant aura that pulled at my heartstrings. Our reunion was filled with both joy and sorrow, tinged with the bittersweet residue of years lost to separation.

"Hey," she breathed, her voice a fragile whisper that carried the weight of a thousand unspoken words. "I know this wasn't how we were supposed to reunite."

With a gentle gesture, I silenced her, my fingertips brushing against her hair as I cupped her cheek in the palm of my hand. "Hush," I murmured, my voice a soothing balm against the backdrop of chaos that surrounded us. "How are you?"

Her response was a mosaic of emotions, each word imbued with the resonance of lived experience. "A bit bruised. A bit hungry. A bit thirsty. A bit tired," she confessed, her vulnerability laid bare in the raw honesty of her words. "But mostly, incredibly happy to see you."

A tender smile graced my lips as I echoed her sentiment. "Right back at ya," I affirmed. "I'm going to get you out of here, I promise. And then, I'll go to the hospital with you. I'll be by your side every step of the way. I'm not leaving you. Not anymore."

She responded with a touch of self-deprecating humor. "You're going to get sick of me," she joked, although her eyes betrayed a flicker of uncertainty.

But I refused to entertain such thoughts, my resolve unwavering as I met her gaze with sincerity. "Never", I stated. "There is absolutely nothing in this world that could ever make me sick of you."

As the door creaked open, Hotch stepped out followed by Dave, Morgan, and Ira, their presence offering some comfort amid the uncertainty that hung in the air. We all waited anxiously for a solution on how to free Maile from the restraints.

"I'll tell you", Ira began. "But only in the presence of those two." She gestured towards us with a nod of confirmation.

Hotch hesitated, his uncertainty palpable, but I sensed an unspoken understanding flicker in his eyes. "We'll be fine," I reassured him, projecting confidence despite the doubts swirling around us.

With a reluctant nod, the three men reluctantly departed, leaving me alone in the room with the love of my life and the woman who had sought to usurp my entire life.

Our eyes locked, a silent exchange of tension and determination passing between us before she broke the silence with a faint smile. "You look better in person," she commented, trying to lighten the mood with a hint of humor.

Despite her attempt at a compliment, I remained focused on the task ahead. "Enough with the chit-chat," interrupted, urgency coloring my tone. "Get her out of these damn things."

"Sure, fine. Whatever", Ira replied with a begrudging sigh, her movements deliberate as she approached the opposite side of the room in her police handcuffs. She pushed a button and with a resounding click, the restraints fell away, freeing Maile from their suffocating embrace.

But as Maile tried to stand, her strength faltered, her knees buckling beneath her. Without hesitation, I rushed forward, catching her in my arms before she could fall.

In a desperate embrace, she clung to me as though afraid that I might slip away, evaporating like a fleeting dream upon waking. The weight of her fear pressed upon me, a tangible reminder of the fragility of our existence amidst the chaos that surrounded us.

With a sudden shift in momentum, she pivoted us around, forcing me to confront the grim reality in front of me, behind her back. Ira's actions had summoned forth a gun, its presence a chilling reminder of the danger we faced.

Tension filled the air as I prepared for the expected onslaught, but the anticipated gunfire never erupted. Instead, a sickening realization washed over me as Maile's weight slumped against me, her blood staining my hands in a macabre testament to the brutality that was our life.

Instinct kicked in as I reached for my weapon, the familiar weight offering a semblance of reassurance in my trembling hands. With determination, I aimed at the woman responsible for the tragedy, her body crumpling to the ground in a silent acknowledgment of the violence that had engulfed us.

Exhausted and overwhelmed by the sudden turn of events, I collapsed to the ground, holding Maile's lifeless body close. Tears mixed with blood as I whispered desperate pleas into the darkness, my words a solemn promise of undying love.

"Please stay with me, Smiles," I pleaded, my voice choked with emotion. "I love you."

[countlessrealities]

Send “you’re kinda cute” for my muse’s reaction || Selectively accepting !

@advnterccs sent: “you’re kinda cute” { To your Rick from my Rick fdshjk }

It was a quiet night, not unlike any other that didn't see them going on some crazy adventure around the multiverse, either each with his own Morty or the four of them as a group.

Truth to be told, Rick had been planning to go on a trip after dinner, but Beth had forbidden it. Apparently, Morty's grades had been plunging into the abyss once again and he had some stupid test he needed to study for. Both the scientist and the teen had grumbled at that, but she had been adamant and they had eventually been forced to give in.

Rick had made a mental note to do something about the boy's grades, because he refused to let something as idiotic as school stand in the way of their adventures, but, all in all, he couldn't say that he was irreparably disappointed by the change of plans. After all, he had been given the chance to spend the night with his boyfriend, which was the only thing he enjoyed as much as roaming and spreading chaos around the multiverse.

The two of them had decided to ditch the garage for once and, instead, had climbed their way up to the roof, not before having dumped through a portal enough booze and weed to last for the whole night.

The air was pleasantly chill and, above them, the dark sky was clear, not even a cloud in sight. The light pollution of the city didn't allow the stars to be fully visible, but it was enough to contribute to the peaceful atmosphere they were basking in.

If asked, Rick couldn't have said for how long they had been there, chatting about everything and nothing, going through their stash and simply enjoying each other company. Time seemed to have lost meaning, as it often did when they were together, and the fact that they were high and half drunk surely wasn't helping them keeping track of the ticking of the clock.

At one point, his body had gotten so relaxed that he had slumped against his counterpart, head resting against his shoulder and body angled towards the other. His expression had slackened, the normally deep lines of his face becoming less pronounced. There was even a little hint of drool mixed with liquor slicking his lips and dripping down on his chin.

If he had been able to see himself, he would have most likely anticipated the playful comment that his boyfriend threw out, following it with a muffled chuckle.

What a asshole. He shouldn't really find it charming nor sexy, but he did. Oh, if he did.

"R-Real fuckin' funny, Rick," he grumbled with an eyeroll, even if, in truth, he wasn't as annoyed as he had sounded.

They both knew that his other self said that shit just because he didn't like hearing it, so the bickering was more for the sake of prodding and teasing each other than anything else.

Rick slapped his boyfriend's arm half-heartedly, and the kiss that he dropped against the side of the other's immediately after made it even more obvious that most of his disgruntlement was just an act. At first, the word had truly bothered him, but by now he had gotten used to it. At least when it was his counterpart to call him that.

Anyone else? They had better hope to find him in a merciful mood or they might have risked a one-way trip to the Blender Dimension.

"D-Do you realise that, i-if I'm cute, then y-you are too? S-Same person and all that shit. I-If you ask me, y-you are the cutest between us."

Of course the other knew, but he probably didn't care, since he liked it when Rick called him that. One of the little differences that told them apart.

"N-Now pass me the booze an-and let's put tha-that mouth of yours at a better use." A little smirk opened on his face. "Y-You still owe me most of m-my daily dose of kisses, baby.~"

[the-eternal-captain-harlock]

"Who shall see the clouds gather, the heavens bending upon crumbling hills, the sea heaving, the abyss yawning, the old darkness beyond the stars falling upon fallen towers?" 

- J. R. R. Tolkien - The Markirya Poem

[catolinewsdailyreadings]

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Readings of Sunday, June 23, 2024

Reading 1

Jb 38:1, 8-11

The Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said:     Who shut within doors the sea,         when it burst forth from the womb;     when I made the clouds its garment         and thick darkness its swaddling bands?     When I set limits for it         and fastened the bar of its door,     and said: Thus far shall you come but no farther,         and here shall your proud waves be stilled!

Responsorial Psalm

PS 107:23-24, 25-26, 28-29, 30-31

R./ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or: R./ Alleluia.

They who sailed the sea in ships,     trading on the deep waters, These saw the works of the LORD     and his wonders in the abyss. R./ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or: R./ Alleluia.

His command raised up a storm wind     which tossed its waves on high. They mounted up to heaven; they sank to the depths;     their hearts melted away in their plight. R./ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or: R./ Alleluia.

They cried to the LORD in their distress;     from their straits he rescued them, He hushed the storm to a gentle breeze,     and the billows of the sea were stilled. R./ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or: R./ Alleluia.

They rejoiced that they were calmed,     and he brought them to their desired haven. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his kindness     and his wondrous deeds to the children of men. R./ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or: R./ Alleluia.

Reading 2

2 Cor 5:14-17

Brothers and sisters: The love of Christ impels us, once we have come to the conviction that one died for all; therefore, all have died. He indeed died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.

Consequently, from now on we regard no one according to the flesh; even if we once knew Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know him so no longer. So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.

Gospel

Mk 4:35-41

On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples: “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet!  Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”

[roman-catholic-mass-readings]

23rd June >> Mass Readings (USA)

Twelfth Sunday in Ordinary Time 

(Liturgical Colour: Green. Year: B(II))

First Reading Job 38:1, 8–11 Here shall your proud waves be stilled!

The Lord addressed Job out of the storm and said:

Who shut within doors the sea, when it burst forth from the womb; when I made the clouds its garment and thick darkness its swaddling bands? When I set limits for it and fastened the bar of its door, and said: Thus far shall you come but no farther, and here shall your proud waves be stilled!

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Responsorial Psalm Psalm 107:23–24, 25–26, 28–29, 30–31

R/ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or R/ Alleluia.

They who sailed the sea in ships, trading on the deep waters, these saw the works of the LORD and his wonders in the abyss.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or R/ Alleluia.

His command raised up a storm wind which tossed its waves on high. They mounted up to heaven; they sank to the depths; their hearts melted away in their plight.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or R/ Alleluia.

They cried to the LORD in their distress; from their straits he rescued them. He hushed the storm to a gentle breeze, and the billows of the sea were stilled.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or R/ Alleluia.

They rejoiced that they were calmed, and he brought them to their desired haven. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his kindness and his wondrous deeds to the children of men.

R/ Give thanks to the Lord, his love is everlasting. or R/ Alleluia.

Second Reading 2 Corinthians 5:14–17 Behold, new things have come.

Brothers and sisters: The love of Christ impels us, once we have come to the conviction that one died for all; therefore, all have died. He indeed died for all, so that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised. Consequently, from now on we regard no one according to the flesh; even if we once knew Christ according to the flesh, yet now we know him so no longer. So whoever is in Christ is a new creation: the old things have passed away; behold, new things have come.

The Word of the Lord

R/ Thanks be to God.

Gospel Acclamation Luke 7:16

Alleluia, alleluia. A great prophet has risen in our midst, God has visited his people. Alleluia, alleluia.

Gospel Mark 4:35–41 Who is this whom even wind and sea obey?

On that day, as evening drew on, Jesus said to his disciples: “Let us cross to the other side.” Leaving the crowd, they took Jesus with them in the boat just as he was. And other boats were with him. A violent squall came up and waves were breaking over the boat, so that it was already filling up. Jesus was in the stern, asleep on a cushion. They woke him and said to him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” He woke up, rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Quiet! Be still!” The wind ceased and there was great calm. Then he asked them, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?” They were filled with great awe and said to one another, “Who then is this whom even wind and sea obey?”

The Gospel of the Lord

R/ Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.

[lockedfighter]

ˏˋ°• ׂׂૢ་༘࿐           starter call . ♡ @earnfirst

༊⋆｡˚                                  the  last  thing  tifa  remembered  was  clouds  face  slipping  further  away  as  she  fell  into  the  emerald  abyss  ,  poison  filling  her  lungs  as  she  choked  out  &  floundered  her  way  to  get  airborne  .  the  darkening  haze  swallowing  her  whole  and  her  mothers  voice  w  h  i  s  p  e  r  i  n  g  her  name  ,  urging  her  to  follow  the  crystalline  glow  .  her  father’s  sweet  nickname  overwhelming  her  senses  before  her  consciousness  let  out  .  once  awakening  to  two  rather  familiar  faces  ,  elmyra  and  biggs  ,  she  jumped  up  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  figure  out  what  was  going  on  but  the  sharp  shooting  pain  piercing  her  temple  had  falling  back  down  once  more  as  old  friend  picked  her  up  and  carried  her  carefully  back  to  aeriths  home  .

the  entire  trek  was  a  blur  —-  drifting  in  and  out  of  consciousness  ,  only  responsive  to  certain  words  before  ebbing  back  into  d  r  e  a  m  l  a  n  d   .  only  when  she  was  laid  ‘pon  soft  comforter  ,  a  third  voice  came  into  the  mix  .  carmine  gaze  groggy  as  dark  lashes  flickered  open  ;  zack  ..  ?  but  ,  how  ?  questions  stirred  in  her  mind  before  a  gentle  weight  collided  by  her  side  ,  holding  onto  her  in  fear  of  letting  go  .  ❛  marlene  ,  sweetie  ?  ❜  voice  hoarse  ,  elmyra  gently  coaxing  her  away  to  make  her  a  drink  as  she  fully  came  to  terms  with  where  she  was  .  ❛  biggs  ..  zack  ?  —-  you’re  ..  ❜  the  words  got  trapped  in  her  throat  ,  tears  welling  in  her  eyes  ,  confusion  evident  .

[malewifehenrycooldown]

new character tagging system dump part 3

[you know the drill. [ d//////o n/////////o///////t//////r/////b]

[genshinlover101]

Hi ! How are you? I hope you have some rest! I wanted if it was ok to ask a 2nd time, with my 3 wives: Eula, Jean an Sara (you can add more if you want), where they accuse the reader for something they never did, they are very mad, said some horrible stuff (be cruel :3), R break down or cry and say she/they want to break up and leave. When they will know the thrust they will try to get R back, it’s up to you to write an happy or sad ending ! Thank you and take care ^^

Her Falsely Accusing You

Character: Eula, Jean, Sara x gn!reader

Warnings: none

A/n: Hi I’m doing well, I hope you’re resting easy too

ahaha I picked a bad ending on accident lololol I hope that’s okay

• Eula heard strange news floating around Mondstadt, something about her lover not even liking her around. She would get mocked, people would laugh, and whisper more than usual. Something had to be going on.

• Eula felt dizzy when she stayed behind a corner, listening to you and a stranger discuss your relationship with Eula. You said disgusting things about her, things that made her want to throw up and gag upon hearing. 

• Eula would confront you immediately, she would stomp out to surround you in the dark alleyway. Her mental state was too clouded and hurt to believe anything that came from your mouth, what a load of shit. She swore vengeance on you no matter how hard you tried to convince her that you were set up.

Eula didn’t hesitate to reveal herself behind the corner, your head flashed towards the light at the end of the alleyway, your eyes shot open at the sight of your girlfriend. You looked at the stranger who had ushered you to say those horrible things. You didn’t mean them, you just recited what she had told you. With a grin, the stranger waved goodbye to you before speed walking out of the alleyway.

Eula stood there, even though she knew she deserved better after hearing you talk down on her like that, she couldn’t help but feel small. Her footing was close together, and her shoulders lowered along with her head, her hands holding each other as she fiddled with her thumbs. “Eula-,” you tried reaching out to her.

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said in a quiet voice. She wanted to scream, yell, shout at you, anything to make you regret saying what you had about her. But she couldn’t, if she looked at you she would break down crying. Despite all the negative things you’ve said, you were still the love of her life in her eyes.

You approached her, your hands held up trying to find the best way to pull her in for a hug. After a couple of shuffling you decided it would be best not to hug her, she probably wanted to be left alone, seek vengeance after hearing what you had said. You didn’t even want to make an excuse for yourself. “Am I not enough for you? You really feel so disgusted by me... that you can’t even hold me after that?” she whispered.

“Am I not enough for you?” Her voice became stronger. “After I left the Lawrence clan, I promised myself I wouldn’t do anything for anyone anymore. Then I came to the city and found you in a sea of people who hated me just for my name. The way you spoke my full name made me not hate myself as much, you made it sound so beautiful. But I guess even that was wishful thinking. Archons, I’m so stupid.”

You held yourself back, even if none of what she was saying was true. Nothing was going to convince her in this state. She didn’t want solutions or excuses, she wanted comfort... but not from you.

• Jean was directed via letter to go to the Dawn Winery for a private meeting with Diluc. He had told her to come alone as he recently discovered some disheartening information from his last journey to a domain flooded with Abyss members 

• What he told her broke her heart, a letter with an official seal to prove its truth. The evidence of your cooperation with the Abyss against Mondstadt clean on it. She didn’t know what to do. She trusted you with her entire being, only for you to discard it and play her for a fool.

• She held the letter with rage, crumping the corner up with her sheer grip. She knew she had to confront you as her loyalty to Mondstadt was stronger than to you. She wanted to believe you had some sort of excuse, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough to convince her otherwise.

Jean clutched the wall before going into your office, her stare at the marble floor in contemplation that this was indeed the cruel reality of things. She held her breathe too long and it made her heart break at such a thought, but the letter was proof of your crimes. There was no safety net that you could fall into.

She slammed the door open marching her way to your desk, her heels making a louder clack than normal. “Oh Jean, you startled me. What’s the matter dear?” you asked, a drop of sweat dripping down your forehead nervously. She slammed a paper down on the wooden desk.

“Can you explain this?” she asked you with a lump in her throat. You sat forward to analyze the familiar coffee-colored paper, the seal that you remembered burning onto the envelope made your eyes pop. You didn’t need to read the contents to know what this letter revealed. 

You had been working undercover recently against the Abyss, you couldn’t tell anyone because the more people knew about your plans, the more of a chance it would be public. So you had to hide it from everyone, including your lover. You sent letters to the Abyss entailing real information about the Knights of Favonius’ actions, but only to gain their trust. You planned on stabbing them in the back when the time came, but it was far too early. “I can explain-,” you stuttered.

“Explain what? There’s nothing you can explain because the damage is already done. I cannot pardon your actions as the Acting Grand Master, you know that,” she asserted interrupting you. Her eyes softened at you as her brows furrowed upwards. “What were you even thinking? All those late nights I stayed up working overtime to protect Mondstadt, only for all my plans to go downhill. I told you every detail because I trusted you. Now I realize how much of a fool I was."

• Sara heard rumors floating around the Narukami Shrine about some Tenryou officers that were manipulating the Shogun for her power. A little birdy told her it was those closest to her, people like you. 

• Sara didn’t want to believe it without proof, but sure enough after three days, she returned to the shrine. Only to receive news from official documents with Tenryou seals with evidence of your betrayal and corruption despite your pledges.

• Sara would be in disbelief, but she couldn’t argue against the facts. She didn’t serve Inazuma, she served the Shogun. Meaning despite it going against official order, she had to do what was right with the undeniable evidence, even though it was secretly made to frame you.

Sara gripped hard on the document in her hand, the paper crumpling under pressure, your handwriting being mushed together within the letter. She wasted no time after receiving the bad news, she was going to get to the bottom of this matter even if it costs her position as General.

Little did she know she was so corrupted by her sheer emotions that if given the opportunity to forgive you she wouldn’t take it. Her judgment clouded, all she could see was a haze of red. She burst into your room doors, you were sitting in bed reading a book as you normally did in your pastime, not expecting any visitors. “Sara? What brings you here?” you questioned. 

You saw her teeth grit, her bangs covering her eyes so you couldn’t make out her emotions. You noticed her knuckles clenching till they were white, a paper in her right hand. “What do you have there Sara?” you questioned, you had a pit in your stomach, a feeling that you already knew what it was even without asking.

“See for yourself traitor,” she threw the paper at you. The ink on the paper was unmistakably your handwriting, but you had no recollection of composing it. You read the contents of the letter, it was a letter of betrayal, you couldn’t believe your eyes. You looked up in fear, her actions more animated than normal. Just making eye contact with you made her want to throw up.

“Sara I-,” you tried to peep, explain whatever was in the letter. But you didn’t know yourself.

“How dare you,” she muttered. Her eyes glossy, a vein popping from her neck, you could tell she was fighting hard to keep back her tears. “You could’ve just told me... d-did you really have to lie to me?” Her voice grew more sentimental, it was more than just a situation of terrorism, it was a broken heart.

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Reborn - Part 10

Fic: A Woman Reborn (Part 10)

Pairing: Billy Russo X Reader (from A Woman Scorned)

Rating: R / 18+ only

A/N: This is a sequel to A Woman Scorned and takes place a few years after the events of AWS.

MasterList (includes links to AWS and previous chapters here)

Summary: You and Billy are happily married when tragedy strikes, jeopardizing your relationship and everything you two have built together. Can the two of you find your way back to each other or is the special bond you once shared broken forever?

The windows were open, letting in the freezing cold air. You should have gotten up to close them. Hell, you needed to be at work soon so what you really should have been doing was getting ready but you didn’t have any energy – you could barely move. Your heart felt heavy, your mind drowning in pain and you didn’t understand how this wave of despair came over you so suddenly. Last night with Matt had been fun, so much fun. It was your first official date and the two of you two had gone out for dinner before coming back to your place. You talked for a while before you practically jumped him again – not that he appeared to mind. He seemed to like your company a lot and you enjoyed his, his easy charm, his sweetness, that boyish grin. And he knew what he was doing in bed – something you definitely appreciated.

There were times you swore he could see, with the way he reached out to touch you and how he seemed to know exactly where you were at all times. When you teased that he was faking his blindness, he laughed and then pretended to run into the door. The two of you shared a good laugh over that.  

So all in all it had been a great night, you should have been on cloud nine enjoying the aftermath of it. Instead you were alone in bed – Matt left in the early hours of the morning – struggling to breathe through the crushing mass of grief that was weighing down on you.

There was a time you would have awoken to find Billy’s dark onyx eyes twinkling at you, his body wrapped around yours, whispering dirty, filthy things to you to see how long it would take you to wake up. He’d cuddle you, refusing to let you go even if you had to be at work or you simply wanted to get out of bed, clinging to you so tightly and tickling you with his beard until you were completely out of breath from laughing so much. Maybe he’d fuck you next, maybe not. Maybe he’d pick you up and throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the shower and then have his way with you.

Or it would be one of those mornings where you guys would talk about anything, everything. He’d tell you about his plans for Anvil, all the other things he wanted to accomplish, and you’d listen attentively, giving him advice on how to achieve those dreams and admire him for his hustle. Maybe it was you having issues with something work-related at Valiant and Billy would act as your sounding board. If it was a person troubling you, he’d offer to shoot them and then you’d roll your eyes at his problem-solving skills.

Sometimes there were mornings without any conversations, without sex, with the two of you just locked in each other’s arms, surrounded in quiet, comfortable silence.

He was the love of your life, your husband, the only one in this entire world who saw the good and the bad in you and loved you for it, recklessly, passionately – with complete abandon and no hesitations. Years ago when you and Billy were just casual he did have his guard up – but the moment things became serious his walls went down, a lot sooner than yours. His love for you had been all-consuming and intense and you missed that. You missed him. You missed how he pushed you to open up, to let him in. No matter how hard you tried to hold back, he forced himself into your heart, your mind, your soul. And now every part of you that had once been occupied by him was hollow and empty, an abyss.

Your eyes brimmed with tears, anger swept over you.

It wasn’t fair. Why? Why did he have to die? Why did he have to leave you alone in this fucking world by yourself? Nothing made sense without him. You didn’t make sense.

You wanted to scream and rage and yell. Again and again. Over and over. But you didn’t do any of that, you lay in bed as the minutes ticked by, and you sobbed into your pillow.

He was gone and you were alone.

And your heart was never going to be whole again.

***

“Hey.”

Davina sat down on the foot of your bed, watching you with concern. When she called you half an hour earlier and heard your voice, she came over right away. Now she was here, and you felt guilty for dragging her into your mess. Why couldn’t you get over it? Why did all that pain suddenly come flooding back again? You didn’t understand, you were fine yesterday. Everything was fine. You’d been so happy and looking forward to your date with Matt, and things had gone so well.

“What’s going on?”

Curled on your side at the edge of the bed, you stared down at the floor.

“Did something happen with Matt last night?”

“We went out. We had a good time.” Your voice was shaky, hoarse from crying all morning. “Probably one of the best dates I ever had.”

Davina waited for you to elaborate without pushing.

“He came back here and we slept together. And it was fun. It was great... I should be happy, I should be screaming with joy about how amazing last night was…”

She reached out to squeeze your hand.

“But I woke up this morning in this empty bed and all I could think about was Billy. His… eyes, his voice, his laugh, his smile. I miss the way he smelled,  how… he’d look at me and talk to me-”

Davina moved to lie beside you, hugging you gently as the tears overwhelmed your body.

“Why can’t I be happy? I want to be happy… I should be-“

“Because you lost your husband and you never got the chance to grieve him.”

You wept, not acknowledging her words.

“He went from being in an accident to being in a coma to being someone else entirely. That’s a lot, Y/N, a lot, lot, lot to process - which you never did, you never could, because you were always just dealing with his crap. And now it’s all catching up to you.”

“But it wasn’t like this the first time I slept with Matt. I was fine. I was happy that morning-”

“Grief doesn’t make sense. It hits you when you least expect it.”

“I’m never gonna love anyone like that again.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “And no one’s ever gonna love me like he did.”

“Don’t say that. You’re beautiful and amazing and so fucking great. You will find love again.”

You closed your eyes. Your best friend was sweet but she didn’t really know you, the real you, and so she believed it would be easy for you to be loved, that there were good things in store for you and your future – but you knew the truth, you felt it deep inside your bones. By some miracle you had found Billy and he’d been the only one in this entire world who ever really knew you and loved you.

Miracles like that didn’t happen twice.

Maybe you would find some variation on love in the future, but it would never be as honest and fulfilling as it was with Billy.

***

It was a week later, a Saturday, and you were exhausted. After taking time off to battle the bad bout you had earlier, you were swamped with work and had to put in some hours today to catch up as well. Although the week had been spectacularly busy, there had been a small blessing – Billy’s absence at Anvil. You didn’t know where he was but you were grateful you didn’t have to deal with him.  

Tonight you were supposed to meet Matt for dinner but he’d canceled on you last minute, stating a work emergency. Truthfully, you were relieved. You just wanted to stay home and get some sleep.

Soon after you were curled up on the couch, caught between strange dreams.

Dreams of zombies killing you, about Davina getting married to Captain America high up on a cloud.

You dreamt of a feather-light kiss on your forehead, tender yet possessive, the sensation so real, so tangible, you could even smell their cologne. It was a scent achingly familiar to you, one that enveloped you in warmth, evoking memories of a time when you were loved and cherished. Slowly you started to emerge from sleep, becoming more and more alert, until finally you opened your eyes.

The room was pitch black, the lights off.

There was a blanket thrown over you, same blanket you kept in the bedroom. When did you bring it out to the couch?

You yawned lazily as you stretched your arms out before sitting up.

“Sweet dreams?”

You jumped at the voice, heart thundering in your chest. It took a few seconds for your eyes to get accustomed to the darkness and then you finally saw a figure a few feet away from you. Billy.

“How the hell did you get in here?”

“Very easily, sweetheart.”

The lamp flickered on, casting a dim light across the room.

You spotted Billy immediately. He was sitting on a recliner, holding the remote in his hand that controlled the lights. Your stomach tensed at the sight of him. He was dressed in jeans and an olive green sweater, one of your favorite outfits on him. For a second it almost felt like you were in the same room as your husband – but then you chastised yourself for even thinking that thought. He wasn’t your Billy. “Get out,” you ordered quietly.

“You were moaning in your sleep. Who were you dreaming about? Me?”

“Go to hell!”

Tired of the conversation, you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. If he wasn’t going to leave, then you would. And first thing tomorrow, you were going to get the damn locks changed. Suddenly his arm gripped your elbow, whirling you around and you found yourself trapped against the wall, his body pressed against yours, holding you hostage.

There was fire in his gaze, filled with such anger and passion and so reminiscent of your husband that you had to fight the urge to hold him in your arms. He was fucking with you on purpose, you reminded yourself, that’s all this was. A ploy to get at you because he must have realized you were up to something with Krista.

His hands tightened around your wrists, squeezing them firmly. “Was it me?” he demanded again, his voice more insistent this time.

“No,” you spat out. “I don’t dream about assholes!”

His dark eyes blazed with rage while his lips curved into a cold, cruel smile. “So you were dreaming about the lawyer?”

Your chin jutted up defiantly. “Yes.”

Hurt flashed across his face and just for a second your heart broke for him, because the last thing you ever wanted in life was to cause Billy pain – but then you remembered. “Let. Me. Go.” You muttered through clenched teeth, trying desperately to hold on to the anger, to not yearn for the familiarity of his body against yours. Even after everything, even though you despised this man in front of you – this fucking stranger who tore your life apart – your body still craved him, desired him.

It surprised you when he eased his grip on your wrists. Cradling your hands in his, he held them out between you two, gazing down at your palms.

“Does he know what these hands are capable of? What they’ve done?”

There was menace in his voice, laced with the promise of a very real threat. Your eyes met his, dark black eyes gleaming at you with an expression you didn’t understand.

“How would he react if he found out about you? The real you?”

It took every bit of resolve you had to keep your face free of emotions, to give him nothing that could be used as a weakness. He was just fishing, that’s all. He had no real memories of that night. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His smile glowered back at you, cunning and twisted. “You killed someone, sweetheart. You plotted it, planned it, every excruciating fucking detail, and with these hands” - he lowered his head to place gentle kisses on your palm – “you butchered him. First-degree murder, that’s what they call it.”

Breathe, you ordered yourself. “You’re fucking nuts.” You tried to move past him but he slammed his hand on the wall next to you, blocking your path.

“Adam Preston.”

You heart hammered in your chest, anger and anguish rushing through your veins. Adam, who stalked you and harassed you, and whose death by your and Billy’s hands finally let you throw caution to the wind and take a chance on each other. And now, this man that you once loved, who now loathed you, was using the very thing to attack you.

“Bet you Matty won’t find it hot like I did,” Billy murmured in your other ear, crowding you.

“Fuck you!” You vented, trying to shove him away but he didn’t budge, too strong and determined.

“You did fuck me. You took my hand that night, my knife, and we stabbed him together. And then we fucked next to him. More than once.” His voice was hoarse, barely contained mix of lust and rage as he tilted your chin up to meet his stare. “You let me see the real you that night, and you saw me. Promises were made, you and I connected for life. You don’t’ just get to walk away from something like that.”

“You did!” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You left me to go be with her! You don’t get to act like you’re the injured party now.”

“That wasn’t me! My head was a fucking mess, and it made me do some stupid shit - but I’m not going to fucking lose you because of something that wasn’t even my own goddamn fault!”

“Oh, I’m supposed to believe you’re you again? I don’t.” You shook your head ‘no’. “This is all just bullshit. You’re here to fuck with my head because you’re up to something. So stop wasting my fucking time. What the hell do you want?”

“Dump Matty. No more seeing him, no more fucking him. Nothing.” Volatile anger saturated his voice, lips drawing back into a snarl.

“Or what? You’ll spill the beans about Adam? If I go down, so do you.”

Billy laughed, sending shivers down your spine. “You think I care?” The vicious cruelty in his eyes made your heart lurch. “As long as you’re with me, I don’t give a fuck where we end up.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Then call me on it.”

You stilled, stomach coiled into knots.

“You and him - it’s over. Done.”

“Matt knows what a piece of shit you are. He’s not going to believe you.”

“Maybe not at first, but the seed I’ll plant won’t go away. It’ll grow, like a fucking parasite and eat away at his brain. He’ll look twice at everything you do, everything you say, and then those doubts will grow. It’ll fucking take over until he realizes it’s true. You’re not like him, you’re the opposite.” A beat of silence followed, his dark, molten eyes penetrating you through to the core. “I mean Matty likes to dress up as a superhero and save the city when he’s not chasing pro bono work. He’s not gonna be down with fucking a cold-blooded killer.”

You stilled, trying to wrap your mind around Billy’s words. “What?”

“You didn’t know, sweetheart?” He was mocking her, finally pulling away. Your mind scrambled to make sense of what he just said while he casually walked over to the kitchen table, leaning back against it like he owned the fucking place. Like he owned you. “What is it that they call him again?” Billy feigned a pensive expression. “Daredevil. Devil of hell’s kitchen. So many fucking names for a dude who likes to cosplay.”

“You’re out of your fucking mind. Matt isn’t Daredevil. He’s-”

“Blind?” He turned around to grab an apple from the fruit bowl, casually biting into it as he leered at you. “He’s been scamming you, babe. He’s not.”

“You’re ridiculous. I don’t believe you.”

There was that smile again, smug, cocky, because he knew he’d wormed his way into your brain. “Figured you wouldn’t, which is why I have him on video.” He tipped his head to the side, gauging your reaction. “Besides, it’s not like Fisk or the Irish or the Italians are just gonna take my word for it. The cops definitely won’t. So it’s a good thing I have insurmountable proof that Murdock’s Daredevil.” He shot the half-eaten apple into the nearby garbage can with a dramatic flair. “There are a lot of people in this city who want to see him dead or put away.”

There was a shift in his face, a change. A second ago he was putting on a show, but not now. This was him at his rawest, his angriest. “I was gonna kill him myself. I did try but he saw the bullet coming. Swerved at the last minute. Glad he did too, ‘cause that’s what piqued my curiosity. Started staking him out few nights ago and found out about his side hustle.”

“You’re fucking psychotic.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I am, when it comes to you.”

It was one thing to hurt Adam, he fucking deserved it, but not Matt. Matt was good, he was sweet, he didn’t deserve to be killed, not because of Billy’s manipulative tactics. “Don’t do this. Don’t give him up to those people. Please.”

“You love him?” His eyes shined bright with fear, the smugness now replaced with a quiver that made your heart ache. “Do you fucking love him?” he demanded again, more desperate this time.

“He’s my friend. I care about him… but I’m not in love with him.”

He looked visibly relieved, like he could breathe again. “Then stay away from him and I’ll keep his goddamn secret.” There was that gleam of hate again, reminding you of what he was capable of. “But if you ever fuck him again, you so much as even smile at him, he’s dead. He never gets to touch you again.”

You swallowed an audible breath, anger expanding in the pit of your stomach, circulating through your veins, feeding your frustration. “So you get to live your life, you get to move on, but I get a shot at happiness and you stomp all over it. How long do you think I’m going to put up with that, Billy?”

He pushed himself off the table, hands tucked into his pockets, swaggering closer until he stood in front of you again. There was no hesitation, no doubt, just the face of the man who once loved you madly, obsessively, saying the same words he used to say to you before your world fell apart. Before he broke you completely. “You belong with me. You’re mine.”

“Not anymore, never again.” You leveled him with a hard glance, so he understood you clearly. “You fucked around on me, I let it go. You wanted a divorce, I gave you that. Now you want to control me? Dictate how I live my life?” You shook your head. “No. That won’t happen. I’m not going to let you keep humiliating me.”

“I don’t want that. I never want to hurt you.” His hand trembled as he reached out to cup your face, touching you with a gentleness you’d forgotten he was capable of. “But I’ll do whatever it takes to hold on to you.”

“And what about Dumont?”

“I’ll deal with her when it’s time.”

A bitter laugh escaped your throat. “Maybe you tell her the same thing about me.” You inclined your head. “Maybe you’re playing us both.”

“I don’t give a shit about Krista. But she’s dangerous, and she has it out for you.” He threaded a hand through your hair. “I know you, and I know how you think. You’re planning to take her down somehow but you need to stop.” He jerked you close, resting his forehead atop yours. “Let me deal with her. It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

Even though you already suspected the truth, a part of you was still disappointed to realize you were right. Billy wasn’t here because he’d suddenly regained his memories and wanted you back – it was a ploy to get you to stop going after Krista. The two of them were just using different tactics now.

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me you understand.”

You withdrew from him and stepped back, wondering how he could look so sincere – so honest – when he was lying through his teeth. “I understand. Now get out.”

He regarded you closely. “Stay away from Krista.”                                        

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Don’t worry, your girlfriend’s safe.”

You felt his eyes boring into you for a long time. Seconds, minutes, maybe even hours – it felt like a fucking eternity until he finally stepped away, gave you space to think and breathe. You watched after him as he sauntered down your hallway, grabbed his leather jacket from the coat closet – he knew his way around your apartment – and then headed for the door. He paused, turning back to look at you.

“I meant what I said about the lawyer. End it now.”

The door slammed, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

All this time you’d been working on laying the digital groundwork for taking down Krista. At first when you started researching her, there hadn’t been much to find but you knew, instinctively, someone who fucked their patients had other secrets as well. Eventually, you’d found it. Financial connections between her and certain companies, companies that appeared legitimate but were money laundering fronts for the mob. You started putting it all together, but then you went a step further - you started cultivating evidence to make it look like she was stealing money from the mob. You still hadn’t decided on was how to end Krista and having options helped. You could either give the evidence to the cops to put her away for life or use the mob to go after her. The latter option meant she’d experience a vicious, cruel, violent death that would satisfy the vengeful part of you, but the former choice would ensure she’d suffer behind prison for a very long time – also something you wanted.

But tonight, tonight you finally had to confront something you’d been actively avoiding. You didn’t know the fucked-up dynamics of Billy and Krista’s relationship but your interaction with him tonight had proven they were still together, still plotting to take you down. You had no doubt in your mind that when you did crush Krista, Billy would come after you to exact revenge – and there was no way in hell you’d let him do that.

Your plans to destroy Krista was already underway, but it wasn’t enough. You had to get rid of Billy too.

A/N - Thank you for reading and the likes, reblogs, comments and messages. Your comments feed my soul :)

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[khiita]

✨ Anyone you wish (all of them would be ideal tbh I just want to hear about your babies)

[ ✨ ] what aesthetics or symbols do you reference when writing your muse? are these backed up by canon, if your muse comes from a canon? is there any specific relevance to these choices?

anna i have so many ocs HDKSHDJ i'll try to be brief and i'll skip explanations cuz i feel like most r obvious !! 🥸

beybûn: the sun, pomegranates, embroidered cushions, sky blue, gold, red. (atoc)

chelon: oranges, gambling/cards/money, knives, the color orange, neons. (evenfall/attollo)

crystal: luxury, silks, embroidery, light purple, light blue, platinum, stars. (a6/swan song)

demelza: blood red, browns, roses, gloom. (myrk mire)

eratos: forests, sunlight through tree leaves, summer, browns, white. (soh/bc)

euridi: spring, forests in the night, entropy, hauntings, black, browns. (the nameless)

finn: hi-tech, oversized clothing, eye bags, injuries, greens, teal, blues. (fhr/gw/hadea)

fred: guitars, rainbows, wolves, the moon, black and white, blues. (evenfall/blood moon)

gabe: old money, family, sweaters, black cats, chess, greens. (twc)

hawke: general sluttiness, leather, motorcycles, arrows, black, red, green. (wts)

historia: books, research/knowledge, abandoned places and nature retaking them, greens, brown. (scout/tgr)

ivy: injuries, cowboys, succulents, rings, light blue, light pink, light yellow. (larkin/pfm)

javi: ruins, rings, moss on stone, open shirts, rabbits, dandelions, greens. (fog)

jisoo: pine trees, unexplained events, clean white sheets, homemade food, greens, browns. (fws)

jude: fast food, clutter, lipstick marks, plaid, museums, coffee, red. (twc/attollo)

kalypso: the sea, surfing, road trips, dyed hair, pastels, holo, neons. (speaker)

leigh: potions, fancy cloaks, old libraries, warm tea, owls, black, gold, brown, green. (myrk mire/the nameless)

luce: journals, fingers stained with ink, rats, round glasses, green, white. (twc)

mikael: the sea, the sky, seashells, sports, papayas, angels, the sunrise, teal, light blue, yellow. (olba)

neapolitan: photographs, eyes, warmth/comfort, wool, coffee, chocolate, vanilla, strawberry. (bloomic)

neassa: braids, gold, wolves, swords, honey, poems, pressed flowers, red. (soh/blood moon)

olivia: faceless, blurry pictures, muted colors, broken mirrors, crows, black cats, rats, black and white. (soh/ofna)

rain: wolves, rainy nights, home, clouds, softness, rough but careful hands, blue, black, white. (exile)

rin: luxury, pianos, minimalism, unicorns, cats, heels, pink, black, white. (bc/180)

roxana: paintings, wooden mixing trays, horses, daggers, light pink, light brown, light blue. (tnp/exile)

sol: the sun, sunflowers, bees, baked goods, flower shops, concerts, yellow. (mb/wts)

syl: silver jewelry, leaves, wings, temples, fruits, light and dark brown. (fog)

taliesin: veils, spikes, storms, bones, tears, purples, red, black. (the abyssal/the passenger)

tomomi: worn journals, darkness, large hoods, hands, scars, black, white, jade. (tnp)

uma: magic, jesters, autumn, adventure, carnations, purple, yellow. (amr)

vance: hearth, moth eaten clothes, strong arms, soft hair, homemade food, yellows, beige. (myrk mire)

wanda: hearts, jackets, cakes, lingerie, overflowing closets, red, pink. (twc/mb)

yara: wisteria trees, eyes, origami, water, purple, white, black. (fog)