#i started screaming into the void at some point and blacked out only to find the thing was fully written

[dollerines]

How I entered the void so easily after 1 year of trying

So after 1 year and half of trying to enter I finally did it and I am so mad because it REALLY IS SOOOOO EASY and tbh if in this post you are looking for any sort of validation or info you smart ass already know then please REMEMBER THIS : entering the void is extremely easy. You just have to do it in a way that resonates with you.

Personally for me since I had adhd I couldn’t just stay still and affirm for 1 or even a few for 10 mins. Not just because I was lazy but because just repeating “I am in the void” for so long gets me tired and makes me think of the void more and you actually don’t want to think too deeep about it. I couldn’t wake 3 hours prior and then affirm or even have the patience to do the psych k, yes I was extremely lazy back then and unpresistent but one thing that helped me even backed then was THE ALPHA STATE MEDITATION !

You just have to find what works for you, find a method technique whatever you want to do that doesn’t seem like a chore. So In a post back then I found on @gorgeouslypink acc talking about doing the alpha sate meditation and I tried it back then and I felt really relaxed and it was a good feeling but like I said back then I was realllly lazy so after a few mins I stopped. Then many months later passed and I was still looking for anything and everything on the void. Then just like two days ago I came across another post which was pretty simple and the technique I used was called the DISTRACTED TECHNIQUE.

All there was to do was the usual you get into a comfortable position and then she said to use the alpha state meditation and used the one gorgeouslypink recommended. So I used it and then what she tell you to do is to just think of anything else just get distracted basically and this WAS SO GOOD 4 ME because back then I had adhd so it made it harder to concentrate on just affirming and so yeah I just thought of random things and then at some point where I was completely distracted I felt my body like lift up 😭 if that makes sense I just can’t clearly describe it. It felt really like a shift and I was like ‘panicking’ in a way but I wasn’t actually panicking I just kinda became aware what was going and then I got scared a little but I just relaxed shortly after. Also my fan that was making like a loud noises was coming in an out and then I only hear it in one ear and then I didn’t hear anything and I just stayed there wondering if I reached the void and i actually was!!! I didn’t feel my body it felt like I had no body at all and it was pitch black just like how I imagined the void to be. For a few minutes I just stayed there feeling the most surreal peace I have ever felt. I needed that peace fr 💀.

So then I affirmed for my desires all I said was “I have all my desired results from my subliminal playlist.” Then just to be extra sure I just said “I have everything I want.”

At that point I got really excited and then I wiggled my toes to get out because I was too dam happy I needed to see all my shit the moment I wake up and then I slowly started getting out and when I tell you I cried for like a good dam minute when I woke up and saw how DIFFERENT. My room looked. I literally screamed onto my pillow. I was so dam scare and yet excited to see how I looked.

WHAT I MANIFESTED :

Desired body and face

Having silky straight tailbone length hair cuz mines was originally curly

And everything in my sub playlist

My desired boyfriend and guys I made him be like Gojo Satoru ( because we are all delusional over him 🤪) and let me tell you he is so tall, handsome, sexy and a literal god. He is so silly too 🩷

Moving countries I now live in ny

Never actually meeting my ex and all the people in my old school forget me and have actually never even met me. Like if u asked them about me they have never heard or known me before

Extremely rich rich like hella bands

Got rid of my anxiety and mental health issue

Plus +++

NEVER EVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS.

Even if the circumstances seem to be eating you alive don’t mind that too much. Even if all seems hopeless don’t give up because you already know nothing can decide or be unless you give it power to be. So stop being goofy and take responsibility and DONT STRESS!! You don’t see God stressing do you. All he has to do is blink and whatever he wants to happen, happens. Plus a lot of confidence came from non dualism that I owe a huge thanks to @trynafindbarbiee she really said it like it is !!

YOU GOT THIS ML 🩷🩷🩷🩷

[anotherghoul666]

i JUST started listening to sleep token and went to the tag only to find you there, please tell me more about this band?? collective?? i need more

You got it buddy! One order of a full Sleep Token beginner primer, coming up!

Sleep Token are a rock? metal? genre blending collective based out of England, tho nobody's 100% sure of where the members are from because they are also a masked and anonymous project. Their style of music varies greatly from album to album and song to song. From soft ballads, to electronic music, to indie, to progressive / prog metal, to post-rock / post-metal, and now with their newest singles, a definite shift into heavier sounds with roots in djent and -core genre elements like breakdowns and scream vocals, let's just say they are very diverse and there are not many bands that sound the same out there. Their blending is pretty unique, and imo will prove to be genre-defining in the coming years. They are signed to Spinefarm records and they're touring as we speak in Europe.

They formed in 2016 and self-released their first EP called One that same year. Their second EP aptly called Two was released in 2017 on Basick. They currently have two full length albums out on Spinefarm, 2019's Sundowning and 2021's This Place Will Become Your Tomb, which are the crux of the material you wanna look into. I always advise that you listen to the whole albums front to back because artists plan these tracklists deliberately, so we owe it to them to consume their output the way they intended us to, but! I also realize nowadays nobody does that because of Spotify and streaming, unfortunately, so: for Sundowning, I'd recommend Sugar as a first track because it touches on both the soft and harsh sides of the album beautifully; and for TPWBYT I'd say start with Alkaline (bonus points for a delicious video to get you into their visual side too). On January 6th and 7th 2023, they released two new songs to showcase their new sound, Chokehold and The Summoning. These two singles seem to be the optimal path currently to get into the band. There are rumors of a new album called Take Me Back To Eden to be released this year, there's a tracklist floating around online though we don't know if its legit, and there are also rumors for new singles coming out, at the time of writing this, tomorrow and in two days, on the 19th and 20th of January 2023. There's also a recording of an acoustic show called From The Room Below floating online, with new takes on their previous songs and a few choice covers like Billie Eilish's When The Party's Over, surprising crossovers that are emotional experiences.

Now, visually and in theme, you'll notice the band has a storyline of sorts. The lore of Sleep Token is this: the band was formed after an ancient deity called Sleep (a reductive name that doesn't encompass the deity's nature at all, but its true name cannot be spoken in any human tongue) revealed itself to the singer, Vessel, in his sleep. Sleep appears to be a powerful force worshiped in ancient civilizations, that gave them the blessing of dreams and the curse of nightmares. Since this apparition, Vessel's life purpose has been to worship and make offerings to Sleep via music. The members of the band are all called vessels, we can infer vessels for Sleep. The singer is Vessel I, but the fandom's moved to just calling him Vessel. The other members are just called by their numbers. II is on drums, III is on bass, IV is on guitar. They're all vessels. They wear masks to hide their identities, with what seems to be full body black paint and some variety of stage costumes including hooded coats and capes and now apparently full pauldrons and void wizard staves.

You'll come across some specific lingo when encountering Sleep Token content or in the fandom. These terms mostly come from their official social media so they use them themselves, it's not fan made. "Worship" is the tagline, kinda like "Nema" is with Ghost. You'll see fans telling each other that all the time. To Worship is to take part in enjoying the band in any way you can: listening to the music, watching videos, streaming their stuff, spreading the word, going to shows, buying merch, etc. Sleep Token's shows are called Rituals, like Ghost's. Pictures and videos are referred to as Sacred Moments, or Sacred Moments in Time. The bands they tour with are called Brethren. Sleep Token's songs are called Offerings. Because they are written as a means to Worship the Sleep deity. Offerings can also be in the form of instrument playthroughs, videos, etc. What the band produces. When you listened to new material or acquire merch, you also Consume. A note on their anonymity to finish: while there are rumors about who the band members are, nothing's confirmed and the band's explicit wish is to maintain this anonymity, so it fundamental to respect those wishes and not try to dig. They value art for art, they let the music speak for itself, and they explicitely wish for their music to be detached from who they are as people. Let's leave the magic in place both for them and for us!

Welcome to the fold! Worship!

[alvfr]

you asked for it! im forcing you!

how about a scenario on that particular AU you have cooking around? between nightwing and a spiderperson that is marooned in the black and white gotham city

we love to see it

posting this like you haven't already read all of it >.< a/n: the funniest jokes are princess-marida's and she is a blessed saint that endures my long ramblings about wips, including this one. i know it says a scenario, but this turned into a longer project (shocker) so here's the first part of chapter 1 (eventual) paring: dick grayson/reader rating: m (swearing)/sfw cw: spider-woman!reader who never stops talking, no use of y/n, superhero violence summary: for years, you have been the one and only Spider-Woman of your world. However, after being recruited to the multiversal Spider-Society, you learn that there's a version of you in every other universe too.At least that's what you thought until something goes wrong and you end up in a world with plenty of superheroes, but no Spider-Man. You're stranded, alone and glitching. You need to find this world's Spider-Man and restore your link to the Spider-Verse before you disintegrate completely - easier said than done with both a local detective and a hot vigilante on your tail.

Out of the Spider-Verse (and into Gotham)

All right, guys. Let’s start at the beginning one last time. 

Your name is definitely not Peter Parker, but you were bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last few years, you’ve been the one and only Spider-Woman. At least, you thought you were until another Spider-Woman showed up to recruit you to the multiversal Spider-Society and you realized you were one of many, many, many Spider-things from all kinds of universes. It was a sweet gig, getting you out and about some, meeting new people, doing team-ups and group work, and your leader was a decent enough guy. A little intense. Borderline scary. Easy on the eyes though. Really easy on the eyes.

And one day, you’re hanging out at the headquarters minding your own business, totally not gossipping about boss-man, when the order comes to capture one of your fellow Spider-Men. Next thing you know, you’re caught up in the whirlwind of Spider-Beings chasing after someone called Miles Morales, and somehow, in the chaos, you slip.

A fluke, really. You never slip. You’re Spider-Woman! You literally stick to walls and ceilings, and somehow, you lost your footing and took a tumble into darkness. 

Real darkness. Where bright flashing lights and psychedelic colors had accompanied you all the other times you hopped through dimensions, this time, you fell into a black pit of nothing. Reflexes had you shooting out webs, desperate to get an anchor point. They disappeared into the void with an embarrassing swish, and you did not even have time to scream before you smacked into something undeniably solid.

Concrete, probably, based on the cloud of debris and dust that rained over you as your body dug several feet into it, knocking every cubic inch of air from your lungs with an oof. Yup, you determined as you lifted your now gray arms to study them. Definitely concrete. You dropped your head back into the rubble and made a face under your mask. Concrete dust was a real bitch to get out of the suit, and you would be forced to cosplay as whitewashed Noir Spider-Man until you could get it dry-cleaned. 

Read more on AO3

[i984]

My Thoughts Echoing Your Name | Part 4

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader.

|Warnings|: Afraid of commitment! Wednesday Addams, reader cried ugly, lame banters, author gave up-ish on writing from paragraph 3, Jealous! Wednesday Addams, lame-ass guy still exists.

|Summary|: Even after Wednesday Addams broke your heart, the ache for her is unbearably still there.

|A/n|: I struggled with this one, there's 5 different drafts until I decided to just type whatever comes in mind, and here you have it, a not-last-part of Burning Red. Next and final part is out!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Music.

It's coming from outside your window.

You strain your ears, and they manage to catch the all-too-familiar tune. It's frickin' Aerosmith blasting in the middle of the night.

Great. Now you look like an idiot from some cliche romantic comedy movie—tears streaming down your cheeks with snotty tissue papers scattered about your bedsheets, a pathetic teenager bawling their eyes out with a love song playing in the background.

Wednesday, the girl of your dreams, was never yours.

It feels funny. How you thought that after leaving Wednesday yet again for the second time that evening, you would finally find peace in the four walls of your dorm space. But instead, here you are, throat hoarse, eyes stinging, chest ragged, nose sniffling, and some psycho has decided to interrupt your much-needed de-stressing session.

The universe must hate you.

You plop down your bed while your eyelids close, drowning in the all-consuming black void while the faint chord of music continues to play. A sound escaped your lips. A defeated chortle. It sounded so weak that you were almost sure it hadn't come out of you, the voice so uncharacteristic of your usual relaxed, carefree laughter.

Memories of your latest cafe commotion flash through your mind, and you feel your heart sinks and touch your diaphragm.

Is this it? Have you been reduced to a heartbroken pathetic fool? The obnoxious images assault your brain, and you scream into your pillow as you give in to the torture, mind re-living the appalling incident at Weathervane.

"Whoa, who are you?" the man across from you and Wednesday asked, his trunk no longer attached to the sofa booth, legs standing up hurriedly at Wednesday's intimidating display.

Wednesday pulls the side of your body closer, both your hips bruisingly pressed to each other as she speaks, "I believe I should ask you the same question."

You squirm under Wednesday's tight grip, unable to decide if you should break free or admit defeat and stay at your place. You chose the latter, partly to assess the situation but also because you've stupidly missed her touch, despite how much you wish to smack the face of the girl standing beside you.

The man's face contorts into confusion before his brows shoot up and his mouth gapes, finally coming to an irksome realization.

"You- you're that outcast from the freak school, right?"

Wednesday, a freak, though she wasn't the only one.

"Your obviously puny brain might want to try coming up with something a little more descriptive than that."

The man ignored Wednesday's insult, finger now raised to point at the raven-haired girl. "No, yeah, I remember you. You're that crazy girl who played cello while the ceremony caught fire."

He takes a small step back from the two of you, the tissue paper in his hand now crumpled. "They said you were the one who staged it all."

"I have to say, the town's people here might not be too dense after all," came Wednesday's haughty reply, and you're starting to get sick of the pointless banter displayed.

The man turns his face to you, "We should go, like now."

You didn't move from your spot—or rather you can't. Wednesday's arm wraps around you more firmly, and you don't know if you hate the feeling of it; the hint of possessiveness in the gesture offers sweet promises and false hope.

Wednesday, the black dahlia that will be the death of you.

It doesn't take a genius to find out, so the next words that come out of the man's mouth are no surprise.

"Wait, you know this girl?" the person you've yet to learn their name asked, and when you didn't answer, he took another step back, his hands now coming up to pull on the base of his hair in horror.

"I can't believe you're friends with this psychopath," and you feel your stomach churn at the man's words. Not at his obviously condescending tone or the sudden behavior change but at the word he chose to use.

Wednesday, a friend. Is that how he sees the two of you?

Even a stranger seems to think this, so could it be true? Oh, how you want to say no because friends don't act this way. They don't get upset about dates; they don't go on those. The romantic kinds, at least.

Their hearts don't hammer against their chests, not when they hold each other's hands so tight they can feel the blood rush under their skin.

They don't swap spit and shove their tounges down each other's throats, and they won't get upset if one of them says that it's all that is. A kiss. After all, friends can kiss each other, right?

But most importantly, they don't get upset when strangers think they're indeed friends.

Wednesday now feels like a foe, and you know you've lost.

"But we're not friends, are we?" You finally turn your head to look at Wednesday's face, and when you see whatever cryptic expression she's got on her front, you lose all hope.

"We're nothing," your voice shakes in defeat, and your free hand tries to pry Wednesday's arm off you, "so I shouldn't have been upset."

"We're nothing," you lift the fingers gripping your hips tightly one by one, "you were right, and I was wrong."

"We're nothing," you look at her previously cold hand that now desperately holds yours, and you wonder if this may be the last time you'll ever get the chance to touch her, "so you should let me go."

You pull your hand to your side forcefully. The cold and the warmth were no more; it was just you.

"So I should go."

The cafe's doorbell chimes, and you leave Wednesday and the stranger behind you, not daring to look back at them, at her.

Because maybe if you do, you'll see that tears have stained her face just like yours have, and you don't know if you'll survive with the sight burned to your brain.

Wednesday, now a ripped page of the book you wish you could burn.

You open your eyes, and the light frays them, making your brows furrow as you groan into the room. The music was no longer there. Gone. Only deafening silence kills your heart and robs your soul. You feel so painfully alone.

Breathing in the air, you look up and see spiders making webs on your ceiling. They dance, weaving more web out, painting beautifully intricate patterns bit by bit.

Your mind calms down, the bitter thoughts now replaced with a name, and your mind holds to it and repeats it like a mantra.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to see her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

You want to feel her.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Your heart calls out her name.

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Wednesday

Oh, you miss her.

"Wednesday." Your voice calls out her name; a knock answers.

[taintandviolent]

lizzie's kinktober - week one; overstimulation ; James Patrick March.

warnings & a/n: 1k words! overstimulation, mild knife play, mentions of death. // this is short, but at least it's something for kinktober! I hope y'all enjoy it!!! sorry if it feels rushed and/or clunky! also (not) sorry that I always make James kill or hint that he kills reader -- he is a serial killer afterall!!

Conflicted; adjective — having or showing confused and mutually inconsistent feelings. To feel conflicted was to feel confused, lost, torn in two different directions. Something that you were, almost literally. You never orgasmed unless you were really turned on. The kind of turned on that had you writhing on your bed, searching for a pillow to grind your pathetic, dripping cunt on just for some relief.

Something about this uniquely dressed man with a molasses-smooth voice had you that turned on. When he’d invited you upstairs to his hotel room, you’d agreed, thinking that you were going to get off once or twice, and then bid him goodnight and think about him for the rest of your days. The one night stand in that weird old hotel…

You had, in fact, gotten off once or twice, but it hadn’t stopped there. After the fourth orgasm, you had stopped counting and had started crying, embarrassed that your body was convulsing with pleasure. Still, he continued. His fingers were masterful, moved quickly and pleasured you in ways that you had never even fantasised about.

It almost became too much. You were acutely aware of everything you were experiencing, down to the sheen of sweat that covered your entire body, and weighed down your delicate tresses. You’d lost track of how many times this man had made you cum, but you knew that you’d passed the point of pleasure, and were heading full force into the territory of pain. Something that he seemed to enjoy… deeply. Every whimper and mewl from you had him craning his neck in unadulterated pleasure, growling with pursed lips.

“Pl-please…” you begged, senselessly. It wouldn’t matter, not to him.

“Please?” He crooned. “Please what? Stop?”

“Y-yes….. please…. S-stop.”

“Awh, you know I can’t do that. Follow through with everything you do, that’s what my father always said.” His fingers ghosted near your clit again and you desperately wrenched your body forward, quivering as intensely as a woman riddled with fever.

“I can’t.”

“You can,” he said. “I know you can and I plan to make you, my dear.”

With both hands, he forced your legs open at the knees and inserted himself between them. Even if you attempted to close them again, they’d be around him. His hand dropped to your thighs again, delicately stroking them. You lifted your head feebly to look into his eyes. Dark eyes so void of anything remotely nurturing, soulless, black and colder than a mausoleum. As he smiled fluidly, you accepted that there was nothing there for you, no mercy, no understanding. You winced as he made contact. The pad of his finger massaged your swollen clit, circling the sensitive nerves. He dipped down quickly, collecting a fingerful of your ample wetness, and returned to the stimulation. You squeezed your eyes shut, pulling roughly on the restraints. He’d tied your hands tightly, arms stretched outwards and secured on hooks in the wall. The euphoric adrenaline, surely, was helping your body not to ache as much as it should be, given your hanging position. You’d tried, many times, to find some relief from gravity, but your big toe barely touched the floor.

He fingered you with slow, deliberate motions and your cunt felt hot. Again. He picked up speed, rubbing his palm against your clit. Everything was so swollen, so sensitive, and so wet. No friction, only white hot, fiery pleasure coursing through your poor little body.

“That’s it,” he said, feeling the warning clench.

You came again with a scream, gushing out over his hand, filling up the cup of his palm. At that point, you weren’t sure what was coming from you; blood, piss, some euphoric orgasm liquid that spattered his floor… perhaps a combination of the three. You didn’t have it in you to care.

“And now,” he said, wiping his hand on his leather apron. “Now, it’s time for me to have mine.”

Your body was filled with energy, seem to pulsate with trepidation. You didn’t think that your body could handle another one. You’d pass out. Maybe just die right there. You violently kicked your legs, screaming through your teeth. “Are you trying to kill me!?”

“No,” he said, seeming offended that you’d even suggest such an atrocity. “That comes later.”

Oh.

“Tell me you want it.” He ordered, dragging his finger down the front of your torso. With his free hand, he unbutton his trousers, reaching inside them to free his stiff cock. “Tell me.”

Somehow, you knew exactly what it was you were supposed to say. Maybe it was because you really did want it, and deep down, you wanted another one. “I want you to fuck me, Mr. March…” You didn’t know what his first name was. He hadn’t told you. Only insisted that he be referred to as ‘Mr. March’ and nothing else.

“Good, good.” he said, pressing the squishy head of his cock into your folds. It bumped into your clit, sending a violent shudder through your body. The insides of your legs were wet.

“Watch.” He instructed, before gripping your hips with both hands. Your head dropped heavily forward to witness the breach. You had a better visual now, and so did he. He lifted your hips, angling them upwards so he could line up his cock. As he slid himself into your drenched cunt, he let out a deep snarl. He buried himself within you, your walls hugging his cock and surrounding it in slick and warmth. Mr. March quickly found his rhythm, hammering into you with purposeful, deep thrusts. Your eyes rolled back, lids fluttering helplessly. Your body quivered, shuddered, convulsed unwillingly every time he hit a point of pleasure, pounding into you. Every whimper that fell from your lips fuelled in some sick, undisclosed way.

You felt each clench of your pussy, laboured and aching. Exhaustion riddled your system, sending you into a delusional wavelength. As you felt another one rearing, you said his name, begging for relief. Whatever relief that may have been.

Your eyes fluttered open once more, though your lids were unimaginably heavy, and you saw his hand close around the handle of a shimmering blade. You feebly shook your head back and forth. As he came, coating your insides in ropes of white, you felt your consciousness slip between your fingers like sand. And all things considered, that was probably for the best.

t a g l i s t : @kaismanwich / @pursuedbyyogibear / @elsamars / @silverzoomies / @tatesdisasterofalover / @thewolveswithin / @80strashbag / @twinkiemaximoff / @spill-the-t / @stucktothetwo / @evansb1tch / @enchanting-evan / @yesdevineruler / @anonymous0316 / @eventually27 / @violetharmonscupcake / @my-own-walker / @kai-slut / @demxnicprxncess / @fuckedbykai / @iluwmycats / @dewberryobssesed / @the-goblin1 / @dirtyfairy97 / @jellyluvr / @strangerthings420 / @kai-anderson-whore / @piecesofcain / @lilthbunny / @quickandsilvers / @tatelangdonsweater / @ifeeltoofuckingmuch / @howtobesasha / @randodummy / @throwinginmythai / @hyperharlz

[epicthemusical]

Ghost Filled Dreams pt 1

WARNING THUNDER SAGA SPOILERS BLOOD/ DEATH

Eurylochus feels like he is floating before the sudden feeling of him falling hits him. He opens his eyes and finds himself in his body but he has no control.

“Choose. You, or your crew?” a booming voice, Zeus, directs the question at Odysseus.

“Please don't make me do this! Please don't make me do this!” Odysseus should never sound that desperate. After some silence he hears himself weakly ask

“....Captain?” Odysseus turns around and everything is wrong. His captain and brother should never look that worn down and haunted.

“I have to see her…” His Captain's eyes are filled with grief and helplessness.

“But we will die..” wait what? What does that mean they would die?

“I know…” Odysseus' eyes fill with tears as he points at Eurylochus and the crew before Zeus starts to move, pulling out a lightning bolt while the crew attacks Odysseus as one.

He doesn't fight it though, almost like he wanted them to kill him. Before they can reach him there is a bright flash and then overwhelming pain burning through his entire body.He feels himself sinking below the waves as his vision turns blurry and his eyes finally close.

Eurylochus shoots up in his bed breathing hard and eyes wide. He can feel himself shaking in shock. That dream was terrifyingly realistic…. Eurylochus can hear screaming and crying throughout the ship so once he calms down some more he shakily stands up to check on what is going on.

Eurylochus does his best to push the dream into the corners of his mind to be dealt with later, as the second in command he must make sure everyone is okay. He takes a deep breath before heading out of his room. A dream will not stop him from doing his job and that's all it is a dream.

—----------------------------------------------------------------

Polites floats in nothing but the peaceful feeling is ripped away as he finds himself in a sudden battlefield. His body moves and fights, Polites only a spector. The enemy is a giant with one big eye, a cyclops then.

His friend Odysseus is shouting commands and the crew is winning. Polites never gets over how smart and confident Odysseus is. He makes an amazing leader. Suddenly a shape swings into the corner of his eyes and he feels so much pain.

He can't breathe and he sees he had landed right in front of Odysseus who looked horrified and pale. He feels himself reach out for him pushing through the overwhelming pain of every breath.

“Captain…” a thud and then the pain is gone.

He jolts awake causing him to fall off his bed gasping for breath feeling like his lungs were still full of blood. He hears screams and sobbing from other places around the ship and panic hits him.

Odysseus,he needs to make sure Odysseus is okay. His friend's face in his dream won't leave his mind. He stumbles his way out of his room and starts to look for Odysseus and praying that it was just a dream. Yeah it has to be a dream that's all.

—---------------------------------------------------

Odysseus finds himself standing in an empty void with nothing in sight.It feels..strangely familiar almost like Athena’s quick thought but different,off somehow.

“You have been given a chance” Odysseus world around sword in hand finding a man standing there back facing him.

“Who are you?” Odysseus is fully on guard against this person. It could be a god for all he knows, I mean how else could he be here? The man turns around and what he sees causes his grip to loosen and his sword clatters on the ground.

It looked like him but at the same time nothing like him. His eyes are haunted and he is dressed in bloody rags.

“You have been given a chance to save them all.” Odysseus shakes himself out of his shock.

“What do you mean save who?” The man gives an exhausted smile

“You will find out soon enough. Save them for me as I was unable to.” Odysseus gets ready to ask one of his many questions when everything starts fading to black

“Time is running out you must save them for you will not get another chance.”

He slowly wakes up pondering on what the dream is about but soon hears screaming and crying outside of his room. Odysseus quickly gets dressed and rushes out to see what had gone wrong. The words from his dream echo in his mind, a warning for what will come.

—---------------------------------------------------------------

Polites continues to stumble on looking for Odysseus, ignoring all the other frantic crew members wandering around. The only thing he can think about is that he has to see Odysseus.

At last he spots him out on deck watching out for some of the crew. Polites runs up and grabs his friend tightly before all but collapsing against him. Soon he feels arms wrap around him, keeping him steady and he starts sobbing.

“Hey Polites, it's okay everyone is alive and safe. I'm right here okay?” Polites eventually calms down and slowly stands up again wiping at his face to get rid of the tears.

“I'm sorry about that. I'm sure others need your help too.” Polites glances around at the crew, many of them collapsed on the deck and others staring off into the distance, eyes blank.

“Did you also have a realistic dream?” Polites glances at his friend before nodding

“yeah. Does that mean everyone also had one of those dreams?” Odysseus sighs

“Yes it would seem so. I have been gathering accounts on what they dreamed about because this is obviously of divine nature. What was your dream about?” Polites flinches a bit at being reminded of his dream.

“A group of us were fighting a cyclops and we were actually winning. Your plan was sound as always.But something hit me hard and I remember reaching out towards you before something hit again then I woke up. You face though…you were so horrified and pale I hated it.” Polites shivers and Odysseus hums pulling him into another hug

“Don't worry i won't let that happen. I will make sure you and everyone else is safe. I know it was hard but thank you for sharing your dream.” Polites nods and Odysseus lets him go

“I'm sorry but I have to go help other members of the crew. Will you be okay?” Polites smiles not as brightly as usual but still comforting and warm.

“Of course do what you need to do” Odysseus nods and walks off and as he helps more of the crew listening to their dreams. The dreams often include the same scenes, the most common one being drowned by Poseidon.

With a slight frown Odysseus thinks on what he was told in his own dream. Were these visions of the future? Odysseus has a gut feeling that these dreams are important. He gets to work piecing together the dreams creating parts of a bigger picture.He needs to know what will go wrong so he can stop it from happening.He will keep everyone safe, he has to.

[milkywaydrabbles]

He who was bound in chains, set free. | II.

Trauma and past sexual abuse underneath. Can find on AO3 here

“Take your clothes off.”

“Yes, sir.”

Another bow of the head, looking forever down towards your feet, taking off your ruched bandeau of a top. He decided it was easier to simply wear that than any proper clothes, seeing as you didn’t wear them often around him. Your skirt was next, eyes blank and void of any emotion. You’ve learned to turn them off when it came to this. In the beginning it used to be...difficult. You would cry, sniffle, hiccup. You learned quickly he didn’t like that. The lashings you’d receive taught you the lesson you thought you deserved at this point. 

“I don’t have all day.”

“I’m sorry, sir.” 

You pushed back whatever thoughts you had left, removing the last of your clothes, and doing your best not to cover up. The bruises on your arms taught you that lesson, too. You didn’t need further direction, getting on your hands and knees and crawling to that demon of a man you called your master. A hand wrapped around his shaft, barely at half mast. He wanted you to get him there. He always liked seeing your hands -- and mouth -- wrapped around him in some way. You hated it more than anything in the world. Slowly you pumped him to full erection, not looking at him--you couldn’t. Tears would fall, you feared. Suddenly a hand grabbed at the roots of your hair, shoving you towards his cock. You winced, a small whimper escaped at the forcefulness. 

“This is all you’re good for, bitch. Now hurry up, I'm meeting with friends within the hour.”

You closed your eyes, tight, and wrapped your lips around the disgusting appendage. You didn’t even have time to ease into it, immediately being pushed down towards the base. You choked and spittled around him, as he continued to use you to completion. He pulled out, finishing on your face. He chuckled. 

“There, it’s the only time you look good. Now turn around.”

“Yes, sir.”

Everything went black.

--

You came to, except you were cowering in fear. Fear of being stricken any more than you have been. 

“P-please, I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I’m sorry!”

You don’t know what you’re apologizing for. Maybe you broke something, maybe you talked back.

Maybe he was just drunk.

Another fist came down at your head, and you held back another scream as best you could. You could feel your blood trickling down near your temple, ringing in your ears. Your head hurt, so much. You wish you could just vanish. He grabbed at you again, pushing your hands that were in front of your face away and forcibly grabbed you by the chin, cheeks squeezing between his fingers. 

“You disgust me, you disgust everyone. This is why your parents sold you to me, you know. They wanted a pretty coin, they didn’t care what happened to you. I should kill you.”

You could barely hear anything after that. 

The beating continued on your arms, kicking your legs, hitting whatever he could get his hands on. You feared some of these bruises would turn permanent.

“Please, please, stop! Please!”

“Please!” You gasped out, eyes opening suddenly and jolting up in a sitting position. You choked on the air you just took in, lungs hurting more than anticipated. Your arms covered your head, knees coming up to your chest and shut your eyes tight again. You couldn’t even recognize the pain that shot through you from your injuries. You feared you were still with him. You feared you were back in Gresit, like some animal locked up. You feared, you feared you feared--

“You’re awake.”

Eyes still shut, you managed to stop trembling--you didn’t realize you started--but didn’t dare move. You didn’t...you didn’t recognize this voice. You weren’t sure you knew it.

“You’ve been asleep for four days.” He sounded cold. Distant. 

Slowly you uncurled your body, and peeking through your hair that created a curtain around you, you noticed it was the angel from earlier. Looks like he brought you inside. 

Oh.

“...”

You weren’t sure what you were expected to say. You remember falling and boots and dirt. You remember running away from the monsters. You remember seeing an angel. But you remember him looking almost angry, inconvenienced maybe. 

“I’m...I--It’s--” 

You were frustrated, unsure on what to even say to him. He beat you to it.

“Why did you come here?” Ah, there it is. The inconvenienced scowl on his brow, low timber of his voice. You looked back down.

“...I was running away from those monsters. I didn’t mean to be here.” Voice small.

“Perhaps, but you saw it through the woods, I’m sure. Which means, you were too close. Why?”

How the hell do I answer that?

“...I fell asleep in my travels. I woke up too late. I had no choice.” Well, you could have died . That’s a choice. 

A deep sigh came from his direction.  “Where did you come from?”

“Gresit.”

“Why did you leave?”

You didn’t answer.

He asked again, no difference in his voice. Thankfully. Didn’t sound angry.

“I...had to. For safety.” Not a lie. 

You thought he knew that, too. His next statement surprised you.

“You may stay here, just a few days. Recover your strength. I expect you gone within one week.”

You could have cried at that alone, you’d have a shelter, a safe shelter. In Dracula’s castle with a vampire, maybe. But a shelter nonetheless. 

“...Thank you.”

With that he left, to be alone in your silence once again. You decided to sleep some more, you were still so tired.

--

You woke a few hours later, unknowing of the time. But it was dark now, the day must be done. You looked around as best you could, trying to take in your surroundings. It was dark, though, only having the moon to illuminate the darkened room. Your closed your eyes again, cupped your hands together, and thought. Thought so hard, envisioning a small flame circling within your palms, just a small one, enough to give you a bit more light. You kept thinking about a flame, muttering to yourself throughout. Please, please just enough, please, I just want to see, please...!

The small flame appeared within your hands, you gasped, then exhaled a laugh. Slowly, and carefully, you got out of bed, and looked around the room. Honestly, it was quite barren, outside of the grandiose armoire on one wall and some scattered books on a shelf. A bit worse for wear, dusty, like no one’s been in here. And then another door, which when you inspected further led to the most magnificent bathroom you’ve ever seen in your life . You couldn’t believe your eyes! It was pristine, in better condition than the room and oh my god the massive clawed tub in the middle of it all was such a sight for sore eyes. You couldn’t remember the last time you got to bathe yourself properly, you only had rivers and ponds to keep you somewhat clean since you left Gresit. You let yourself walk closer to it, not fully understanding the contraptions that sat on top of it. You wondered if you could find some water on your own to use it...

“If you twist the knobs at the time, water will come out.”

You gasped, eyes widening and your heart leaping into your throat. Your hands clutched up to your chest, small fire instantly burning out with a spark. You were back in darkness. 

“I knew I smelled magic .” 

Oh. Oh no. And the other shoe just dropped. You were going to be beaten again for being born a witch. Your heart rate started to accelerate, eyes shifting anywhere else in the room. Palms become sweaty, clutching at nothing by your chest, Not even enough of a top to grasp at the fabric. What were you going to do if--

He walked over, silently, and you prayed once again to the gods you’ve denounced whilst you trembled. Only to have him walk past you, and twist on the knobs of the tub. One side he turned on had steaming water pouring out the spout. It’s hot water! The one next to it seemed to cool it down, down to warm temperatures but not hot enough to burn you. He turns them off, doesn’t turn to you.

“You’re a witch.” Not a question, a statement.

“...I...Am.” 

“A poor excuse of a witch.” I knew that already.

It was silent in the room.

“...I don’t know how to use magic.” That was a little more than obvious.

“What do you mean? Your coven disregards you that much?” Well-

“I don’t...Know what that is.”

That made him turn slightly, wondering what kind of witch you were that couldn’t use magic and didn’t know what a coven was. 

“..Bathe first. You smell vile.” Ouch.  He left promptly after that. 

You looked at the shelves around the bath against the walls, littered with different smelling soaps and lotions. You could have died and gone to heaven. A luxury you have never been able to afford. He must really be an angel . You grabbed a handful of things that smelled nicest to you, and brought them over to the edge of the tub. You looked around again, making sure no one was there (who else would be? The man left). You felt wildly uncomfortable taking your clothes off. You turned again towards the door. It was closed. You tiptoed over and locked it for good measure. You’re sure whoever that vampire was could rip it open if he wanted to. But you felt safer, regardless. You stripped down to nothing, quickly jumping into the still very warm water, and felt every bone in your body creak, muscles relaxing for the first time in years . You audibly moaned, and immediately went on high alert. You shut your mouth, and looked at the window, and then the door. Tensed body relaxed again, just a little, and got to scrubbing your skin raw.

You stayed in the water until it grew cold, scrubbed every inch of your body, no matter how much it hurt. And it hurt , saying you still had the injury from apparently four days ago . Some of the lacerations around your arms and legs always burned anyways, so the newfound marks were nothing new to you. It must have been at least a half hour in the tub, maybe more. You found a small plug at the bottom and pulled, hoping it drained the water magically. And it did , though you still have no idea how it works. Thankfully you found a towel, next to the rest of the soaps, and dried your best off, trying your best not to rip open any of the wounds. You wouldn’t want to get beaten for getting your blood on the towel. Or worse, bring him into a feeding frenzy and just take the arm clean off. 

(He’d already smelled your blood when you showed at his doorstep, but you weren’t thinking). 

You wanted to put lotion on your skin, to smell nice , but you didn’t think any of the fragranced oils would do you any good with your battered skin. You still felt much better. Reclothing yourself, you carefully unlocked the door, and stepped as silently as you could back into the original room. You always tended to tread lightly, out of habit, out of fear maybe, out of protection. You didn’t know if you were supposed to wait, or...

“Follow me, and don’t touch anything .” 

You gasped again, looking at the doorway that led to the hallway. You barely caught a glimpse of him as you silently ran to catch up to him and followed. You looked to the ground, as you always did. Just step after step, foot in front of the other. Not wanting to draw attention, not wanting to look around in fear of retaliation. Just following, the way a pet would. You saw him stop, so you stopped. And looked up, only a little.

He was staring at you, face blank of any expression. 

“Go sit.”

When you looked into the room he led you to it was a study, Filled to the brim with books, and journals, and scrolls. Filled to the brim with knowledge . Of everything you didn’t know, of everything you wished you knew. Fiction maybe, or maybe history? Endless possibilities in the room alone.

You realized you’d been staring around at virtually nothing for too long, and scurried to a chair near the hearth. The warmth felt so comforting. 

“Now what is this about you not knowing what a coven is?” He sounded accusatory. You’re a liar.

How do you answer that?

“I..don’t know? I’m not sure what you mean?”

He let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Coven. Of witches? A group of familial witches who live together?” He acts as if it’s such common knowledge to you.

“..I didn’t have that. I just lived in a regular village, before Gresit.”

“What village?”

“I don’t remember.”

He didn’t believe you.

“And how do you not remember where you were born?”

“I don’t know...my parents sold me to a man in Gresit when I was young. I don’t remember.” 

Your voice was as leveled as you could keep it, though you were starting to feel on edge with all the questioning.

“Sold? To whom?”

“I’m...well, I’m not sure who he was. Not really.” You kept your eyes down at your hands. You started picking at the skin around your nails, ripping them raw. “I just knew him as my master.”

Silence filled the void between you. You didn’t know if you were meant to continue.

“Why did you run away?” Don’t call it running away, it was for safety!

“I wanted to be safe.”

“Safe from what?”

“He hurt me.”

You said it with such conviction, and although you didn’t look up it was spoken as plain as day. The sky is blue, and he hurt you . You tried to continue anyways.

“I don’t...know how to use magic. Not really. I just want to be safe. I’m sorry. I’m feeling better, I’ll be out by tomorrow, honest, I’m sorry, I’m--”

“Please.”

You stopped your nonsensical words, and dared to take a peak at him.

This is the softest he’s looked, face just a bit more relaxed, minus the tinge of a furrowed brow. 

“..I said you have a week.” A pause. “Let me look at your wound.”

Your exposed arm and shoulder throbbed at the mere mention of it, and you clutched it. 

“It’s alright.”

“I’m not asking.”

You paused, and sighed, and turned your body to expose more of the injury, the man walking up to you and leaned down to take a closer look.

Turns out, it had ripped open and blood was oozing from your flesh. He exhaled through his nose.

“You’ll need to be bandaged. It’s not deep, but it’s not a clean cut either. It’ll take time.”

He walked away for a moment, going to the other side of the study you had not been able to see. He came back with some supplies to patch you up. Seems he already had this planned out. He dabbed away the blood, wiping away the excess and pressing alcohol to your wounds to disinfect. You hissed, clawing at your skirt. Then came the ointment, which was quite soothing even if you didn’t know exactly what it was. Soon enough it was wrapped up tight in a bandage. 

“...Thank you.” If it weren’t for his vampiric senses he actually would have missed that you spoke at all. He simply hummed, and made notion for you to follow him again. 

He brought you back to the original room you had woken up in.

“Sleep. We’ll speak more in the morning.” Distant again. And he was gone.

What on God’s green Earth happened to you?

Alucard can suspect abuse, obviously . But the gravity of how worn down you are is honestly...unfathomable. He notices the scarring that littered your body, he’s not blind. He had half a mind of commenting on them, but thank God he didn’t, questioning you was a nightmare on its own. Looking at how you reacted to him, how you wouldn’t look him in the eye, hell you woke up screaming after four days of slumber. Alucard thought you had died with how quiet you had been during that period. He wonders...he wonders if you wish you had. He shudders at the thought. 

He knows he’s been quite...off-putting. But no one would blame him if they knew the horrors he’d also been through mere weeks ago. 

By that combination, he can understand why his father thought the human species a stain on this planet. Difficult to argue against it. They were wretched, putrid things. They killed each other out of greed and a want of power. And you were a perfect example of how much irrevocable damage that could cause to someone. 

But Alucard is far from perfect.

If he was being honest with himself, he nearly left you outside to rot away. Let the night monsters take you away while you slipped into unconsciousness. At least you wouldn’t feel it. But he couldn’t--what would his mother think of that? At the end of the day, Alucard was still a man with a heart. A cold, broken heart. But a beating heart. And his human side always reached out to try and care for others, loyal and kind to a fault. 

He tried to sleep after the final interaction with you. He couldn’t. Your dead eyes were haunting him. How you spoke tormented him.

He hurt me .

That’s all he could hear in his head, in your small voice. Someone owned you and abused you, and unlike the twins who couldn’t trust a single soul after that--even one that trusted them with everything he had--you were so fragile and scared to ever disappoint. He supposed it was ingrained in you, for better or worse he wasn’t sure yet. Alucard had tossed and turned for what felt like hours, before he got up. 

He wandered over to your room, and listened for steady breathing. Were you asleep? Would you sleep restfully? Would nightmares come?

He took the chance and cracked open the door, just a touch, to peer in. 

He saw you asleep, finally, covers kicked off yourself. You were in a fetal position, arms wrapped around yourself and legs scrunched up as high as they could go. You were shaking.

Alucard winced, how sad . 

Silently he walked in and gently covered you with the duvet, and left just as quietly as he entered.

He’s not sure how he’s going to talk to you at all in the morning.

[fandomnerd9602]

Madness Made Sane

Part One (REWRITE)

For @deafeningsharkslimeempath @jacelion

I’ve seen universes collapse. I’ve seen heroes fall and robot overlords rise. A fortune teller told me that my powers lined up with an old prophecy.

The Scarlet King, a nexus being. A king would rise to fight a witch clothed in scarlet. It was never said who would win in the end. I was destined to be a champion to protect worlds from Chthon, the destroyer. Some protector I turned out to be.

My world fell to the might of Ultron. I was only saved by the Watcher right as my world was destroyed. He told me my fate was bigger than one world. Whatever that meant.

I lost track over the countless worlds that I traversed. I barely found a place to lay my head before I had some monster tracking me. Not exactly easy living.

With time I met up with another multiversal traveler. America Chavez, AC as I grew to call her. It felt like I had a sister in her, and to her, I was her protector her guardian. We looked out for one another. We ate together, fought together, told each other terrible jokes. It was a blast.

Eventually we met up with some sorcerer who called himself Defender Strange. Apparently he was part of a team called the Defenders.

And so that leads us to right now in my tale. Strange, Chavez and I were running. A mummified looking being of pure destruction on our tails.

"Keep going!" Strange yells to Chavez as him and I worked to hold the monster at bay. The monster's reddish pupils stared daggers into mine.

I hurled a slab of sharpened concrete into it. The monster lost its footing but only momentarily.

"Y/N!!" America called out to me. The monster slammed its linen tentacle into a chest, knocking all the air out of my lungs and off the edge of the precipice Strange and I had found ourselves on.

Strange tried to catch me but it was too late. I fell further and further into the void. The last thing I heard was America's screams as it all faded to black.

Or so I thought.

"I think he's dead" a young voice called out in the darkened void.

"So are we going to poke him with a stick or not?" another similar voice asked.

I opened my eyes to find two twin boys standing over me, their attention was on one another, arguing. I was in the backyard of a two story suburban home. Did I fall into Pleasantville?!?

"I'm not gonna poke a dead body, Tommy!" the one in red and blue argued, "Mom would kill us if she found out we poked a dead-"

His brother, clothed in a green track jacket, screamed, "Billy!!! He's not dead!"

The boys screamed. I couldn't help but scream too. I tried to get up but I ended tripping on a metal slide.

"Where am I?" I tried to get my bearings. "Who are you?"

"You fell from space" Billy answered, pointing up to the sky.

"Spaceman. We. mean you. no harm" Tommy tried to pronounce each word to me.

"It's okay guys, I speak English" I tried to pacify them. "All I remember is-"

I was cut off by a burst of red magic. Chaos magic. It picked me up and lifted me a couple feet in the air.

"Who are you?" A female voice called out from the nearby house. And out walked her. Five foot six, long reddish hair, dazzling green eyes. Red hoodie and yoga pants that fit her just right. She was gorgeous. The most beautiful woman I've ever seen.

I wasn't one to believe in love at first sight. But seeing her, I could start believing in it.

"Mom! Don't!" Billy shouted to the woman. "He's friendly."

I could feel her. Her essence probed my very being.

"I can hear your thoughts of me" her ethereal self giggle and blushed. "I'm Wanda. Wanda Maximoff"

"(Y/N)" I answer back as she set me down gently.

"I haven't met another magic user in a long time" she walks up to me and shakes my hand. "Where did you come from?"

"Earth 96. It no longer exists." I answer back. "Do you know of anyone who might be able to help?"

"I think I might know someone" Wanda answers back. "Would you like to stay for supper? I have paprikesh on the stove."

"Paprikesh sounds wonderful" I answer back with a smile.

Dinner was nice. The first real meal I had around a table since I lost home. The boys relegated me with tales of their lives, their powers, and even their dreams of someday joining their Earth's Mightiest Heroes: the Illuminati.

"On my world we had Avengers. Iron Man, Cap, Hulk, Thor, the Black Widow. They were great" I sadly reflected on the team I lost.

Wanda reached across the table and gave my hand a gentle squeeze. Her eyes told me of immense pain and yet there was a resolve there, stronger than my own.

Wanda put the boys down for bed in their rooms. I quietly sat on the couch as she tossed me a pillow and a blanket.

"I can write down the directions for you and you can head out after breakfast tomorrow. If you want." She smiles at me.

"Thank you Wanda." I flash a small smile at her. "you know Billy and Tommy are amazing."

"well they had me for a mother" she jokes. We couldn't help but share a laugh. "Is it true?"

"Is what true?" I looked at her confused

"That you think I'm the most beautiful woman you've ever seen?" I was left dry mouthed. She giggles, "I read your mind when we met."

"well I mean...uh...um" this woman left me speechless.

"Good night Y/N" she walks up to her room, a saunter in her step. A lesser man would've followed her right up those steps. If I could stay on this world, I would've.

But Chavez needed me. The Scarlet Witch was still hunting her.

I set out the next morning. Giving the Maximoff clan a hug before I left. I flew to the coordinates Wanda gave me.

A large stone building in the middle of Central Park. No markings no signs. Just a large slab of concrete.

I approach the only door in to the building. I didn't even knock and the door opens on its own.

"Welcome to the Illuminati" a polite English voice calls out to me.

"Thank you, Mister..."

"Xavier. Charles Xavier" the voice answered as a hover chair bound man floated out to greet me.

This should be interesting.

To Be Continued...

[redactedgoose]

@phantasycentral

Hey, I remembered to do this at the start of the day instead of the end of it! Day 2, D&D. I was kinda stumped on what to do until I remembered that the Great Old Ones exist, and, well...

--

The sound of a battle is unmistakable.

The harsh clash of steel on steel, ringing out on impact, layered under shouts of exertion and pain. The creak of leather when fighters tighten their grips on their blades and when the rogues' lighter armor bends under their movement.

Spells have sound, too. Incantations, yelled or snarled; the fwump-woosh of flame and the whistle of bolts of magic, the crackling of ice and electricity.

It rages on. The two sides are more or less equally matched, if not in size then in skill. Paladins and fighters clash at the center of the battle, weapon to weapon. Rogues skulk around the outside, attempting to find openings to pick off enemies. Wizards and sorcerers fire from the back, suppressing their foes' magics and providing support for their allies.

The battle is even.

Then, the battle ceases in an instant. There is no slow progression, no tapering off of hostilities. In one moment, they fight. In the next, they stand still and silent as if they were statues, life belied only by the rising and falling of their chests and the frantic beat of their hearts.

The pulse rings out again, sending all to their knees. There is no sound; there is no force. To an outsider, the scene would look staged, with them falling with no real cause. No spellfire washes across the battlefield, no airborne toxins or any tinkerer's conceit.

No, the area around the battlefield is deathly quiet. Still. Even the breaths of the combatants are quiet and stifled, coming too fast. Not that any of them could hear their breaths over the pounding in their ears, the echo of their rabbiting hearts.

No birdsong rings from the trees; even the wind has stopped blowing, as if even it was too scared to approach.

The change in the scenery is almost too subtle to notice as the presence pulses a third time, the unnatural force echoing through their rib cages and stealing their breath.

High above them, there is a crack in the sky. It hangs there, a dark slit standing proud of the light blue that's slowly reddening with the approach of sunset, with no clouds to obscure it.

One... two... three... four... five.

Five dark points pierce through the slit.

Thud.

Another pulse. Some of the combatants fall the rest of the way to the ground, sorcerers and magicians falling with soft thumps, fighters and knights falling with great clattering crashes, dashing the silence for a brief moment.

Six... seven... eight... nine... ten.

Five more join the first group, neatly slotting between the first, and the sky darkens.

Thud.

Then the slit begins to widen. The ten dark points split into five and five once more, holding fast to either edge of the slit—the tear—in the sky.

The more religiously-minded combatants start to pray. Not aloud. They're unable to, bodies stiff like corpses from the pressure and the fear.

Something is coming. Something is coming and that something is wrong. Their base instincts all but scream in the back of their minds, screaming, pleading for them to run, to get away, that they need to leave now if they want to continue their existences.

And still the tear widens.

Only some of the still-kneeling combatants are able to see the first blushes of color through the tear. It had, at first, been blacker than black, an endless void stretching for a distance that only the gods knew—and then, even maybe they did not.

Swirls of red, purple, and pink flicker across the ever-growing tear, soon followed by orange, yellow, and blue. They dance within the void, shooting it through with sparkling veins, mixing and separating as they pleased.

Then came the green.

A single pinprick hangs in the void in the tear, fixed in place. A sword of Damocles hung in the sky, as weighty as a guillotine at the top of its tether.

The tear continued to grow, the dark pinpricks tearing the sky asunder becoming more defined. One huntsman, deep in his throes of fear and animalistic terror, recognized them as claws, more wickedly sharp than any animal's that he'd ever seen.

Not a single one of the combatants had succumbed to unconsciousness. All, whether they could see it or not, are forced to bear witness.

The green pinprick grows larger, brighter. This big, it's more defined. This close, it's more defined, for in the center of the green is an even darker void than the one it inhabits, painting horrifying truth.

It's an eye.

A large, luminous eye peering down at the assorted combatants.

Frozen as they are, fear locking their limbs even as their minds scram at them to run, to fight, they cannot do anything as the eye sweeps across them, considering them and dismissing them as beneath it's notice in the span of a breath, however stilled they may be.

The eye looks farther still, towards the edge of the battleground.

It pauses, resting it's gaze on the caravan that had borne half the combatants up until this point.

The caravan is large but dingy, the canvas cover weathered and the wood worn. The pressure on the combatants lift just slightly as the being's attention falls on it instead of them.

Then, between one blink and the next, the entire caravan is in shreds, bits of canvas and wood littered in a perfect circle around where it once stood. The only thing untouched in the circle is an oversized, wrought iron birdcage, a shredded cover just barely concealing what it holds.

"yacdilh yamy..."

Thud!

Darkness gathers in the tear, one set of claws pushing further into their reality. The air seems to warp around those sharp, dark tips as they push down, more inky black gathering behind them. The shadow clarifies into fingertips, which manifests into fingers, until a gigantic, dark hand is stretching down from the tear in the sky.

Doomed, doomed, we're all doomed...

The thing with the power to rip the fabric of reality asunder was now reaching down into their world.

It's hand, tipped with those wickedly sharp claws, descends. An arm, equally as black as the void from which it came, follows.

Their barest relief comes in that the hand is not intent on them. No. It reaches for the iron bird cage.

Tenderly, in as much as something as Other as it could be ascribed the word, it parts the last of the cover, a single claw splitting it down the middle to reveal the contents.

Inside the bird cage sits a young girl. Her hair is black, her skin pale. Her eyes glow that same green as the thing in the void's.

She tips her head back and calls out in that same language as the being, her voice nearly as painful to hear as the being's but so much younger and more tender. "yafrehta!"

All at once, the combatants feel their stomachs drop, realizing the depths of their transgression.

The current owners of the bird cage had only known the girl as a powerful warlock, drawing inhuman power from her patron, so much stronger than the norm. She was a commodity; a prize to be won. Controlling her would increase any lord's power by tenfold.

Such was the desire of the other party. Take her, take her power, and use her to their own ends.

The being taps a claw on top of the bird cage, neatly splitting it down the center. All at once, the girl morphs and transforms before their eyes. Her hair turns a glowing white, eyes becoming larger and more luminous. Her tattered traveling clothes almost sublimate into fine robes of a deep green, her hands turning that same inky black as the being's.

She was no mere warlock. She was the thing's child.

The few combatants who had come to the realization tremble where they kneel or lie. Was this their end? Even humans had killed for less of a reason.

The girl rises into the air, seating herself on the thing's hand.

It pulls her up into the tear, her white hair vanishing instantly in the void.

The eye remains.

It stares down at them, intent.

Impossibly, incomprehensibly, the other set of claws retreat from the edge of the tear. And then, it starts to seal up, edges pulling back to each other like the lacing of a corset.

Throughout it all, the eye hangs in the void, staring down at them.

Even when the tear finally closes, they stay as they are.

Kneeling or lying on the ground.

Terrified.

Very few of the combatants would ever talk of this day in the future. The day that they avoided their deaths—no. The day that they avoided their obliteration at the hands of the being with the power to rip reality apart.

It would have been so easy for it to have squashed them like the bugs they are, after all.

--

yacdilh yamy -> reverse -> ymay hildcay -> pig latin -> my child yafrehta -> reverse -> atherfay -> pig latin -> father

[sl33py-day]

A turn for the worst

Yandere!TBHK x GN!reader

Warnings: slight Nyctophobia, some blood but not much or even described much, Death….lots of it, Tell me if I missed anything!

A/n: Slightly based of a nightmare I had just not to the extreme of this. Some of the writing won’t be in detail for a very good reason and I hope you find out the reason. Have a good day and see you all next time

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Everything was black. Everywhere you turned it stayed the same dark void with no signs of light or a way out. Your breathing started to quicken out of fear of not knowing where you were.

You stood up from the ground, your clothes having been wrinkled from how long you were on the floor. Deciding it was best to walk around the seemingly endless pool of darkness. Switching from left to right every so often when you felt like you’re walking in circles. But whatever direction you take the void never seemed to stop. 

That was until you noticed a light. It only lit up a small area of the place you were in but it was enough for you to run to it. Getting closer to it you saw a figure, a small figure that seemed to belong to a child. 

“Hey! Can you help me!” 

You didn’t know what to say except ‘help me’ when you where running towards the light. The figure seemed to be a boy sitting on the floor in what seemed to be distress having his hands clutched onto something. Your running gotten slower then came to a stop once you noticed that the figure wasn’t alone. Another one laid on the floor right in front the one you saw. With a puddle of something around them. 

Hesitantly walking towards the 2 shadows as silently as you could so you could get a closer look at what was happening. 

“Are…you ok?” 

The moment you said that the figure shot up from the slouching position. Turing their head left to right as if looking for who said that. But that seemed to not be the case as you heard footsteps coming from your left. 

The boy quickly stood up and ran the other direction from which the footsteps came from. Leaving the person on the floor alone in the black looking puddle. The footsteps from before gotten louder meaning someone is getting closer. 

You ran after the silhouette of the boy as fast as you could. The little chase ended in being back to the darkness but when you looked back the light from which you were a few minutes ago was gone. 

‘What’s going on?’ 

Thinking to yourself when you were back to the silent darkness from before. You sat down on the floor as you realized that the ground had a few centimeters of water on it. That’s probably why everything seemed to shimmer when the light was there. 

How did you not notice it before? You probably were more focused on where you were and how to get out. 

Sitting in the quiet place you heard a scream as well as light from behind you. You turned around to see a window that seemed to have a view of outside. 

Once again walking towards it in curiosity and slight fear. The window had curtains on the side of it. But like the place around you it was black and grey, empty of color. You looked outside the window to see a familiar sight but you couldn’t pin point where you saw it. 

You heard the same scream from before but from below you. As you look down all the color from your face drained. 

Down below you was a person on the grassy floor with a puddle of dark red surrounding the body. With the scene being gone of any color except black and grey the very noticeable dark red scared you even more. 

Once more the light flashed off leaving you where you started. What was happening? This has to be a nightmare! Right?!

The cycle of the light turning on happened again. This time you were in front what looked like a kitchen. 

Two new silhouette appeared one being taller than the other. The taller one began ruffling the others hair, messing it up. As they did that the shorter one started to argue back to the other. 

Everything that has happened seemed like an old fashioned movie. No sound was ever accompanied by the shadows, except that one scream. They never noticed you so that must be somewhat good, right?

Back to what was happening. The taller one handed a drink to the shorter one. As they drank it they began coughing and hunching over holding the counter with one hand and the other holding their throat. 

After a few seconds they fell to the floor motionless with the taller person standing behind them. You noticed a smile, how? A white line where the mouth is turned upright into a crazed smile. 

You stared at the person, who looks more like a male now. The male turned to your direction still having the crazed look on the empty face. The smile was now accompanied by two wide white circles where the eyes are placed. You crawled backwards your hands on the ground and your eyes never leaving the persons face. 

You didn’t realize that the more you moved away the less of the area there was. That was until you fell in a hole. Screaming at the top of your lungs as you kept falling. Falling and falling for what seemed like forever.

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The sounds of the TV played in the background as you woke up on the couch. Were you having a nightmare? You had a nightmare. One that scared you a lot. 

Moving the blanket you had on top of you and sitting on the side of the couch. You tried to remember the nightmare you had. It was strange, creepy even. Why was everything in the dream so….colorless and silent. 

Why was the window part of the dream the only one that had noise and some color? Why was the scenery in the dream so familiar? Why where all the people looking like shadows? Thoughts running through your head as you rubbed the sides to ease the incoming headache. 

You should up to go to the kitchen to get some water and some food as it was 12:00 pm, lunch time. Wanting to forget the dream and continue the day with no distractions. 

You didn’t see the TV flash  ‘BREAKING NEWS’ as the news station came on. You were to tired to notice anyways.

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“BREAKING NEWS”

“Another body was found at Kamome Academy. The body was found in the cooking club room and looking from the scene the boy was most likely poisoned. 

This would make the third victim in the last month. The first victim being stabbed and the second victim being pushed off the rooftop of the school. 

Police has said that it might be more than one person doing these awful things. If you have any information on this matter please call the Tokyo Police Department right away. 

That’s all. Thanks for watching and be safe.”

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Who knew that the victims were your friends who you thought went missing?

The first one being Yashiro nene who was sadly stabbed to death by Kou minamoto 

The second one being Nanamine Sakura who was sadly pushed off the top of the roof of the school by Tsukasa Yugi. 

The most recent one was Akane Aoi who was sadly poisoned by Teru minamoto. 

All three having the same motive and clearly not knowing that all three of them have it. 

That motive is kinda obvious but if I have to spell it out I will. 

They all want you to be there’s! 

I will warn you though, a few more of your friends will go missing. 

So I highly advise to be careful with who you trust and who you don’t. You don’t wanna be the next victim, do you?

[meimi-haneoka]

Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Chapter 68: Comments + JP-ENG translation differences

Hello hello everyone!! Here we are again, one month later, for the third chapter of the future volume 14, chapter 68!! Maaaan I gotta say I got pretty excited with this chapter, at some point I’ve started screaming while I was reading it (thank god I was alone) and I believe it’s been quite some time since that last happened 😂 This chapter is heavily focused on my four favorite characters, which I had predicted they’d be the focus of the “final confrontation”, so I guess that’s only normal. God, I love them all so much and I notice that even more with chapters like these. I also found myself to wish even more desperately for season 2 of the anime, because maaan, the scenery of this chapter is particularly breathtaking. I dunno, it might be because I imagined all of that animated, and my breath caught in my throat, but it would really be so wonderful to see all of that moving with pretty lights and sounds someday. I can definitely, definitely feel we came to the crunch of this story with this chapter.

Curious to know why? Follow me under the cut, but not before taking a look at the gif of the month! 😂

The Color page

Ladies & gentlemen, the third SyaoSaku color page in the span of 6 chapters 😂Is somebody trying to make up for something? 😂 Aww, I have to admit that when I saw this color page for the first time some hours before the chapter release, it made my heart all warm and fuzzy ���it’s really nice CLAMP decided to revive that beautiful scene of chapter 23 in a color page, it’s such a sweet and important memory for these two. It was a very happy moment, and here CLAMP decided to bring this one step forward by allowing Sakura and Syaoran to hold hands in a lover’s hold, with their fingers intertwined. 🥰 But this was also the scene where we’ve heard for the first time how unwavering Syaoran was in his resolution to not let Sakura feel any sorrow. Yes, sorrow, 不幸. A word that would become so crucial and important later on, and which is recalled even in this chapter through Momo’s words. This color page is also connected to what happened in last chapter, when Mirror was explaining why Flight decided to help them, and recalled precisely this scene. Lastly, I think this color page illustrates perfectly the strong bond that connects Sakura and Syaoran together, which gets once more reiterated in this chapter. It’s interesting to note how the color palette of the outfits they are wearing here is different from the one used in the anime! I find both versions charming, to be honest! Pink is my favorite color but I appreciate the anime’s attempt at making Sakura wear something that’s not pink 😁 The JP text here says “Sakura-chan and Syaoran-kun’s date in the sky….with Mirror and Flight!”.

What is happiness to you?

The chapter starts with Sakura, seemingly asleep in the void, hearing a voice asking her what is happiness to her and why she’s always been able to say that “everything will surely be alright”.

By now, we already know whose voice it is. Reminds you of something? Of course it does! Not only it is the "mirror" of how Chapter 65 started, kicking off this “story” inside Clockland (that time it asked about sorrow, this time about happiness), but it is also a recall to how Momo introduced Sakura to her “hint” back in chapter 50. Everything keeps reconnecting and going full circle, folks.

Turns out, Alice briefly fell asleep and wakes up, finding herself on a gondola, together with the Red Queen. As she opens her eyes, we’re made partakers of the beautiful scenery that unfolds before her: on both banks of the river they’re navigating, there are huge shelves full of books, and the wood of the shelves morphs into tall trees. Little black & white roses, seemingly the Queen’s crest, are nestled into small lamps, illuminating the way. Alice wonders about the voice she believes she just heard, and although she’s sure to have heard it before, she can’t quite recall who it is.

First translation difference here:

ENG: “I don’t know. But...I can’t shake the feeling I’ve heard it before” JP: “I don’t know. But...I have the feeling I’ve been asked the same thing before”

The difference here is given by the word 聞かれた. It is true that the verb 聞く means both “to listen” or “to ask”, but when used in this way, it definitely means “been asked”. After all, Momo was indeed asking her something. I found this part a bit confusing because all Alice was talking about in the ENG was “hearing a voice”, not that it spoke to her. So the Queen asking her if it was important felt a bit weird. What’s important, the voice? No, she’s indeed asking about what the voice asked to her.

And here I ask you to pay particular attention to the font of the Japanese version, as I predicted in my last post. Because here, for a moment, we see a “magic effect” around Sakura, and then she replies “Yes. Something very important.” WITH A REGULAR FONT. This means Sakura is talking as her real self here!! Again, triggered by important matters, she regained conscience of her true self. But unfortunately that lasts shortly, as she looks up to the Cat, standing on a bridge between shelves, looking down on her in a very…..pissed off way.

I mean, look at his clenched fists here! 😂 That unfortunately sends Sakura back to her Alice role. As the two girls continue navigating the river, Kaito talks to Momo, who keeps appearing only as a voice and not physically. I want to point out that not only here, but throughout the chapter, the ENG translation put a lot of “filler words” that skew the perception of the tone of certain characters. Of course, if you’ve been following this blog for a while, I don’t even need to point out who these changes affect the most.

ENG: “Perhaps I can convince you not to give Alice here any hints? Here I thought the guardian of the book wasn’t to assist the players”

JP: “I would like you to refrain from giving any hint to Alice. I thought the guardian of the Book couldn’t help any of the characters?”

In the ENG version, with that “I can convince you”, Kaito sounds vaguely threatening. Like “if you don’t do as I say, I’ll convince you by force”. In the JP version, there’s none of that. Kaito still speaks with his usual polite tone to Momo, while still being clearly annoyed at her. Annoyed doesn’t mean he has to suddenly become an as*hole to her. And even when Momo replies, explaining that her line was said merely as a “facilitator” (this very same English word is included in the furigana of the 進行役 word) of the Book, she doesn’t use neither “boy” nor the overly salty tone she’s got in the ENG version. Yes, sure, I was highly amused by the way these two bickered in the ENG translation, but I have to be impartial and say when things aren’t really as they are presented. STILL, the scene is so hilarious because Kaito is beyond pissed 😂(for his standards) and he replies “I beg to differ” but decides to prioritize following the girls, as he can’t lose sight of them.

Books are "Our Story"

Alice looks at the immense library that stretches along the banks of the river, and notices how many books are there. The Queen says that books are very important in this country, and Alice asks her if she likes books too. I would like to think Alice was instinctively brought to pose this question because Sakura’s subconscious knows this is Akiho. Of course the Queen answers she does, because books were always by her side. Just like the real Akiho. Meanwhile, the gondola enters a part of the river where the trees above are interwoven more and more, until it looks as if the girls are entering some kind of “tunnel” or “cavern”. I found that eerily beautiful too (I need to see this animated!!!!!). While the two girls get off the gondola and reach a shelf, the Queen explains that books are people’s “memories”. And they serve as a “record” too. Seeing as “record” (記録) is indicated between brackets, I can’t help but think about the relative Record Card. But what these books “record” in them? The Queen says: “Somebody’s feelings. Their hopes. And the magic they’ve weaved. Many [stories] are recorded in them”. Alice utters the word “record”, probably as if it reminded her of something…. Then she asks the Queen if the book she’s holding is her favorite one. Try to zoom in and pay attention to the magic circle depicted on the cover of this book. Looks familiar? Yes, because you have seen it before.

The version on the cover of this book seems slightly more elaborated, but there’s no doubt it’s the magic circle belonging to the members of the most ancient magical clan of Europe, collectively called by me as the “Squid Clan”. It is kinda surprising the Queen grabbed specifically this book, and with some friends I was musing on which underlying meaning this library could have. Does it store the records, the stories of all the people who tried to use Momo’s book? After all, we’ve been told that her book records the life of the owner. If that’s true, then maybe we could infer someone from Akiho’s clan tried to use it, at some point? Regardless, the Queen replies that this is not her favorite book. Her favorite book is Alice in Clockland. And here pay attention, dear readers, because as she utters the name of the book, the font in the Queen’s speech bubble is back to normal!!

This is not the Queen anymore, AKIHO is regaining control of her consciousness! With nonchalance she lets go of the book she was holding, which goes back to its place in the shelf. Alice points out:

ENG: “That’s my name…” “Perhaps. But it is the title of your story” JP: “That’s my name...and yet, it’s the title of a book you have”

As you can see, the ENG translation completely misunderstood who was talking in the second bubble of this panel. It is not Akiho, despite the bubble being close to her (there’s no tail pointing at her, indeed), but actually still Alice. Alice is confused because a book belonging to the Queen is titled with her name. So this brings Alice to question her own identity. And the true identity of the Red Queen in front of her. Akiho replies that she doesn’t know, because she’s forgotten her previous name when she entered Clockland. But there’s one thing she remembers. It’s the one thing no magic could ever make her forget. Before entering Clockland, she had a [special person]. Here it is again. That 特別��ひと I fussed so much about during last chapter. It seemed such a trivial thing and yet I knew it wasn’t, because this is a specific term with which the story is indicating the person someone loves. That’s why it was important to me, I think this is going to be very important to understand the story, and fortunately this time around they translated it correctly. Akiho, talking with a regular font and all, seems to regain a hold of herself more and more. Thanks to a mutual on Twitter I even realized that her pronoun changes from 私 (watashi, in kanji) to わたし (watashi, in hiragana), which is the usual way her pronoun is written when she speaks as Akiho. THERE IS a difference there!! She remembers about the girl she’s got in front of her, too. She tells her that she had a name more befitting of who she is, actually, Akiho says that she’s just the embodiment of the thing she was named after. (This part was translated in ENG as merely “it was your name” and I don’t think they really got the beautiful praise she was giving to Sakura). “Just like a flower that blooms in spring”

Catfight part 2?

A shriek echoes in the library, it’s our Syaoran, the REAL Syaoran, yelling Sakura’s name!!!

He cut through the fake environment created by the book with his own sword, but Kaito wastes no time in appearing in front of him, out of nowhere, praising him for managing to stay inside the book, but affirming that having two Cats is really inconvenient for him (taken literally from the JP text, as opposed to the more arrogant way the ENG decided to translate it with). Kaito tries to grab Syaoran, but as he does so, we find out it was the Mirror Card who had taken Syaoran’s appearance, and it’s now back in the hands of the real one!! Sakura FINALLY recognizes her Syaoran, regaining her own identity once and for all, thanks to her beloved one. As some of my japanese mutuals have pointed out in their own reviews of the chapter, it’s really beautiful that the trigger for both girls waking up from the role they were playing is the person they’re in love with. Syaoran apologizes for being late, and Sakura can’t contain the tears, realizing she couldn’t remember who she was, but she was able to free herself of the spell when he called her name! Syaoran says something really important and poignant, and Mokona sensei gives the entire page to Syaoran to indicate how fundamental this is:

JP: “The only Sakura there'll ever be for me is [Kinomoto Sakura]”

Kinomoto Sakura, with her full name in kanji and all (he usually calls her in hiragana, but here the moment is solemn, you know!). He might have been put under stress and been tested with the whole Mirror thing, but Syaoran will always find his way back to his Sakura. No matter what. Sakura is so very comforted by that. But someone else is just not as comforted…. Syaoran regained control of the Mirror Sakura Card (again with that “Mirror Clow Card” in the ENG translation!! THE CLOW CARDS DON’T EXIST ANYMORE, FFFFF--!!) and even dispelled the Mirror new card, effectively undoing Kaito’s disguise, who goes back to his real self. At this point, we should have all four protagonists of this story with their true selves, no one is playing a role anymore. But Akiho is suspiciously quiet and unresponsive to all of this mess, and Mokona sensei avoided drawing any expression on her, covered by the veil. What is going on with her? I hope everything is fine, but I have the feeling something….might be going on with her….something related to the Squid Clan. Kaito notices that Syaoran managed to bring a sword in this place, storing it inside of his body, and it is likely a skill he acquired during his time back in Hong Kong (not, as the ENG translated, “You’ve grown during your time back in Hong Kong”, that could refer to his physical growth but this is not what Kaito is talking about here). He wonders if it was thanks to his mother’s gift, the divination, or if it was just his own good fortune. Of course Syaoran has to wonder how Kaito knows about all of that. He replies that Syaoran is...quite famous in the circles he runs in (that “young man” was merely added to fill in that bubble, Kaito isn’t being arrogant with Syaoran here. None of the condescending “boy” or “young man” you ever see in this chapter in English is truly said by the characters in Japanese). He says that “the most ancient European magicians” are particularly interested in the Li Clan’s movements. After all, the Li Clan’s got family lineage in common with that of Clow Reed, and indeed that European Clan is particularly spiteful towards them. So, if we ever needed it, we got confirmation that the Squid clan is particularly spiteful towards the Li Clan due to their connections to Clow Reed. When I’ve read this confirmation spelled out like this, I couldn’t avoid going back to think about my theory that the Squid Clan is actually the Reed family (noticed how they never reveal the Clan’s name?), the other branch of Clow’s family on his father’s side. It would kinda make sense if you consider the natural competition there might be between the two families, which have such a famous magician in common in their lineage. It’s still a theory at this stage, but I admit I did let out a shriek or two 😂.

Kaito’s watch suddenly cracks some more, and as he witnesses that, he says he really needs to make Syaoran leave, because he’s got no more time. Again, the ENG translation made Kaito sound condescending and arrogant with his “I have no time for this, you see”, when actually he was merely hinting that his life span is almost over. This is also why you see Syaoran startled by his affirmation, cause it seems he might be having a hunch about it. Syaoran realizes that Kaito is about to start something, so he summons Mirror and uses it on Flight (which was there with them on its own) to prepare “doubles” of it to give to both Sakura and Akiho. Apparently the interaction of Mirror with Flight gave also Syaoran a pair of beautiful crystal wings that just looks like the ones on Mirror’s back.

Syaoran sternly affirms that “I will take them back with me” (again, the ENG unnecessarily specified that he would bring Sakura with him, but the truth is that there’s no subject in the JP text and Syaoran gave a copy of Flight to Akiho too, so he’s very intent on bringing her outside along with Sakura. Therefore, why infering that he’s only focused on his girlfriend and doesn’t care about what happens to Akiho? Excuse me, but that’s not our Syaoran. He would never discard an innocent girl like that, and it makes sense because he doesn’t know about Kaito’s real intentions yet). Kaito confidently replies “I won’t allow it” (the ENG here made him say the more arrogant “No, boy. I’m afraid you aren’t”).

And with this huuuuuuge cliffhanger, chapter 68 ends here, in anticipation for the confrontation we were all expecting! I don’t think it will last for long, if they ever manage to start it, that is, cause Akiho’s behavior is kinda sketchy and I’m afraid a certain clan will soon “enter the chat” in their own way.

This chapter was really exciting for me, I enjoyed it from the first to the last page, and I feel it really reiterated how “identity” is a HUGE thematic in Clear Card. It’s very important to not lose sight of who you truly are, and our loved ones can help us remembering that at all times. In fact, both Akiho and Sakura “wake up” from their roles thanks to the memories of their loved ones. I applaude both girls for escaping the influence of this powerful spell, it must have not been easy. Particularly, I commend Sakura because despite being under the influence of it, she never stopped making questions. THAT was the indication that her real essence, her soul, was fighting tooth and nails to regain control of her own reality. She wasn't merely accepting and taking in everything that was in front of her. And I congratulate Akiho too, because she got herself freed from the spell without having any magical powers, only with the strength of her feelings and memories. The physical and metaphorical lifting of the veil was a super powerful image to me. I found it absolutely beautiful and it spoke to me more than a million words. Bravo Mokona sensei. Under that veil that kept her "in her role", there wasn't the somber Queen anymore, but the sweet and warm Akiho we always knew.

Syaoran was super cool and I think CLAMP delivered what they promised in their Space of some months ago. I’m sure his role isn’t over yet and we’ll see more of him. Please remember that, under his fired up appearance, Syaoran is a very loving and caring child too. He knows what compassion is and I’m sure he’ll give an evidence of it in the last chapters of this arc. While being of course annoyed at Kaito’s behavior, I reaaaally can’t bring myself to be mad at him, seeing how tired and desperate he looks (and sounds) in this chapter. The pocket watch, at this point a symbol of what he’s got left to live, breaks even further and that must have cornered him even more. I once said “Kaito looks like a wounded animal to me”, and wounded animals tend to become really aggressive when they feel under threat. This is what scares me a little bit about him. It’s evident that “failure” is not an option for him, so he has to complete his mission before he dies.

At this point, the only one who can truly stop him is Akiho, and I’m praying that she eventually can gain control of the situation before it’s too late. Sakura can help, of course, but I’m sure the only one who can weaken Kaito is Akiho. The one he’s doing all of this for.

Of course, there’s Momo too. Although she’s clearly got her hands tied, she’s resorting to any kind of tricks to steer this in the direction that will avoid a tragedy from happening. At this point she’s doing it in Kaito’s face too (and he’s not stupid, he notices that but doesn’t want to argue about it right now) and I find that so hilarious, among the seriousness of the situation. She really seemed to me like a mother who was trying to hide spinach in her son’s meatballs, denying that she’s put any of it in them. 😂 All of these characters are so lovable and they’re doing their best for someone else, just like CLAMP said in their latest Spaces.

Another small thing I want to point out is that we still have no “last chapter in 2 issues!” or anything like that announced on the color page. Maybe they want to wait for the very second-to-last chapter before announcing it? We’ll see.

Well, this post is already quite late by my standards so I will leave you here for now, and as usual I await your asks in my inbox to talk about this or that aspect in particular! As usual, a quick reminder of the dates for the next chapter, chapter 69: December 25th, on Bookwalker and Azuki(digital, ENG) December 26th, on Clamp-fans (digital, JP and other languages) December 28th, on Nakayoshi (paper and digital, JP) January 1st 2023, on Comic Days (digital, JP) <- if they don't modify this I'll probably be late again with my chapter post 😭

Let’s hope we’ll get an extraordinary chapter as a Christmas present!! See you on Christmas day!! 🌸

[ants-personal]

anyways more lil tidbits about the everymanhornets au

Whenever otherworldly things take place habit is well aware of who or what is happening and honestly he wouldn't help cause its funny but also that means something else gets to torment evan and that's just not allowed tbh so he helps save tim to save evan so he can go back to being the only thing causing misery

Evan does have knowledge of the other anes simply cause of habit which is distressing he knows whatever happened caused some cracks in his pocket of the universe he knows that tims friends are stuck in the ark suffering and his are stuck in candleverse and fairmount he doesn't share this information.

Habit constantly berates tim for being lame and boring such a let down since from what he's understood tim was suppose to be one of slenderman's big players The masked one meant to help good ol slendy trap others in his games a real top dog and instead he gets... this the masky nowhere to be seen even if habit can sense it laying dormant for now

When masky does show up he is aggressive towards evan evan even when he's himself since he can sense habit any parts of tim are not present and at one point he even bludgeons evan to death with a pipe letting habit take back control puppeteering evans corpse pissed off and clawing deep marks in maskies neck

Tim has been over the years been able to suppress masky and really any control slenderman has with the help of his doctor and new meds plus just being away from the center of activity helps to move on keep the good memories block out the bad creating a space in his head to trap masky in

He uses what he learns to try and help evan at the very least stay in control longer and more with habit course its easier when your alter or whatever isn't constantly whispering in your ears or tearing apart your insides to claw himself to the front seat. It's hard to do but works even when whatever building or maze evan tries to trap habit in inside his mind he always finds a way out pissed off

Tim and Evan are more durable then normal people for obvious reasons but evan is the only here that can't actually died (for now :) habit refuses to let him but he does feel every death the pain never dulls blood never tastes any better. Evans not the biggest fan but will do what he needs to to protect Tim and Habit needs him even if tim hates seeing evans dead body being animated by those shiny dead purple eyes. He has new scars and yeah they are badass okay but still sucks cause when evans back he looks like the living dead and acts like it body trying to keep up. Tim tries to ease his suffering cutting the days drive short so evan can lay in an actual bed.

Along the way slender man's influence does start being able to seep back into tims mind dreams hallucinations doing whatever it can to make tim stop helping habits plan using his friends against him in typical fashion blurs and figures on the side of the road that only tim notices sending information that ends up sending them out of the way cause tim was certain it was something important

Tim doesnt know what the hell the rake is but he sure doesn't like it or the way it's trying to literally eat them. (The sequence i have thought out for this part is inspired on the setting and events of one of my fave into the dark movies *Im Just Fucking With You* but instead of a person evan and tim are dealing with the rake running around causing mayhem and death)

Tim does get stuck in something close to ark a space created specific for him to break him down and stop any progress. Its an endless abandoned building there is not exit and any windows show nothing but pure black void the horrible twisted versions of his friends run and attack throughout the halls. Alex nothing more than a feral man spewing nothing but hatred for tim trying to kill him with the same knife used to kill him. Jay screams out for tim but no matter how fast he gets there jay always dies blood pooling asking tim why he wasn't here till alex finds and chases him away cycle repeats. Now brian is a little different aware of what's happening sometimes unable to fight for control and trying to kill tim himself but when the cycle restarts he tries to find a way out for tim. Eventually on one run he runs into a guy he's never seen before sneaking through the halls trying to find Tim himself talking to himself? He doesn't get the chance to ask before he's transported back to his spawn area

Oh yeah this is where Tims mask returns but he's not the one who finds it. Evan does in what looks like an abandoned classroom there's a message on the board and laying on top of the desk is Tims mask. Evan picks it up a lil amazed because he's only seen this thing in videos and cmon its cool unaware that he has triggered a change in Tim masky coming back in full force standing silently in the doorway eyes white traces of static flicker through them. Posture stiff and breathing slow anger rolling off of him in waves at evan for even touching the mask. Evan tries to get to tim and when its not working and hes getting slowly caged in he tries to run to keep the mask away cause its not what tim wants its futile evan is able to fight him off for a bit hiding and running from room to halls dodging masky and corrupted alex and jay before masky catches him and kills him so he can take back what his. Course habit doesn't like masky or being beaten by him even if it was evan so they end up beating eachother and destroying the place main area of the place till brain is able to find open the door evan had come through and helps habit send both him and masky through it landing them back in the small clearing of the quiet forest. Tims back and panics flinging the mask off his face while habit laughs at him and brags how he very much won that fight

Uhh i have like fun ones too but i have more scene thought out then others as you can see the fun ones are like downtime between evan and tim learning to be a sorta found family but not father son and also bonding over how fucked up their lives were and are :p

[daffodilferox]

So over Thanksgiving break, I ran a one-shot for a couple of friends. It was Shia LaBeouf. They didn’t realize until the end — where I came out and told them. It was glorious.

Some tweaks I made to make things more interesting/railroad guide the players’ decision making:

Per the song lyrics, the players are meant to run the first time they meet Shia LeBeouf, but players can and will attack any enemy you put in front of them. So I made that Shia LaBeouf an illusion. I also added 10 more illusory copies of the guy all circling and taunting the PCs for flavor.

For the cabin, I thought it would be boring to walk right into the boss fight, so I made a little puzzle/escape room thing that starts upon entering it. I did, again need to make the PCs enter through the door, so I had it raining to prevent arson. I somehow didn’t notice that breaking windows was a thing you can do, and had to improv a solid black void when the players did break them.

The escape room was as follows:

-Cabin layout:

-From the outside (windows), players can see Shia LaBeouf sharpening an axe, along with body parts and whatnot scattered around. Blood on the floor and table…etc. Pot of human flesh boiling on the fireplace.

-Upon entering through the door, all the aforementioned things are gone. Layout and furniture is the same, but everything is pristine and untouched. The pot is boiling water. There is nothing to find in the cabin, regardless of how high any perception rolls may be. This should theoretically force the players to attempt to exit the cabin through the door. (If players try the windows again, solid void again.)

-Upon exiting the PC’s are in an identical room, but the doors and windows are gone. Things look a little more lived in — moved chair, a few books here and there. Pot boiling mystery bone broth for flavor. On a sufficient (I used 15) perception check, PC’s find 4 books that seem a bit out of place on the bookshelf. The PCs should pull on the books in such an order that the first letters of the titles should spell “OPEN”, revealing a secret passage to the next room. If they fail the perception check, players may ask 3 questions about the room and roll again. If they ask about the bookshelf for the questions, treat it as a successful perception.

-PC’s appear on the ceiling of the next room. While the door is still gone, the window are back, pitch black, and screaming at the PC’s. Flavor pot has mystery meat in the mystery broth. There are more signs of activity as well — the bed looks slept in, and there are clean knives on the table. A successful insight check reveals that the window screams change in volume based on where a character is in the room. Or just tell the PCs as they move around and let them figure it out. Point is, it’s the loudest at the fire place. Perhaps you had the pot away from the fire place to begin with, perhaps the players now have to move the pot, point is the fire is false and they jump down the chimney to get to the next room.

-Falling from a height is a great way to spring a bear trap on players without dealing with potential find trap rolls. Character with the lowest dex save gets their leg chopped off (1d10 damage), along with 3 debuffs (speed halved, disadvantage on con saves, bleeding until healing magic/potion is administered) and a buff (bonus action unarmed attack with 1d6 damage, or temporary Parry feat that ignores dex prerequisite).

-The bear trap room has blood everywhere, some of which form trails leading nowhere. Candles are smoking and still liquid, fingers can be seen in the flavor pot. One blood trail out of however many (trial of error, or perception to see bear trap related blood flow along a specific trail) leads to a shifting perspective in which the cabin interior unravels itself until a portal-sized shadow appears (liquid void basically).

-Through the portal, there is only darkness and emptiness, but for the singular door a little ways ahead. There is light coming from beneath it.

-Behind the door, the cabin interior is repeated 9 times, with each iteration rotated differently. PC’s appear in what should be in front of the doorway in the center iteration. Shia LeBeouf is also here in the center, sharpening his axe. Players get a surprise round, roll initiative. (If the players refuse to enter for some reason, roll initiative normally after the characters wait >15 mins and fight in the void).

-I nerfed the Winghorn Press version of the Shia LaBeouf stat block.

-Once defeated, the copies of the cabin interior disappear/merge into 1. This is where the players should leave the cabin and trigger the Shia Surprise(tm) as they walk back into the forest, but mine tossed the body into the fire and watched it burn. No Shia surprise :(

-You’re finally safe from Shia LaBeouf

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 4

Hi! I'm finally back from holiday which means I have access to my computer again! This one was a bit difficult to write, considering I'm so overly careful I hardly get injured. If you think it needs anything adding to make it more realistic, just let me know in the comment section or via message. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Summary: So uhhhhhh.. magic’s real. Middle earth’s real. Shit goes down. Bon appetite.

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 2230

Warnings: Swearing, Blood, Minor Injuries, Major injuries (i.e. broken bones)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

&lt;; Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4 -

Hey ghouls, the girls are here.

Alternate Universe (definition): A hypothetical self-contained plane of existence, co-existing with one’s own.

I felt nothing and everything at the same time.

Each of my senses were heightened as I tried to make out what was happening, though there was nothing to make out. I opened my eyes to pitch black, straining my ears for even a single sound only to receive nothing but an empty void. It was as if I was floating in the middle of a sensory deprivation tank, where time slugged by in slow motion. A dream where you wanted to run, but your limbs were made of lead and only dragged you down further.

Frustrated and frightened beyond belief, I floated there for what felt like a thousand lifetimes, trying to reach for something, until slowly but surely, I could feel myself tilting backwards, or upwards, to be honest I don’t think direction even existed right now. Soon enough I felt myself descend, the sound of air whistling past as I seemed to descend quite rapidly, gaining speed to the point where the air became a deafening roar in my ears. Where I was falling to I had no clue of, but it was better than having a panic attack whilst magically suspended in a void.

A voice. Well, it wasn’t really a voice, more like screaming. I mean, I was screaming too, but I knew I wasn’t hearing things. At this point I wasn’t really worried about who was making the ruckus, I could be falling to my death after all. The only thing I comprehended was that they were falling too.

I had enough. Panic attack No.2 just finished, and I was still falling?? At this point the initial fear was now replaced with boredom and irritation at my predicament. I was even tempted to go to sleep, you know, make up the hours, and hopefully wake up to find I had already landed. But I knew I couldn’t doze off, everyone knows I’m too picky about my sleeping arrangements, and it’s always an hour minimum before I actually fall into any form of slumber. I still closed my eyes in some form of attempt, and relaxed as much as I could. I no longer had any concept of time. It felt like it had been hours when it could’ve easily been mere minutes.

Whether it was good or bad luck, I still felt the relief at the change of atmosphere. The air became significantly fresher, and I could almost see the light trying to pierce through my eyelids. The sound of thunder wasn’t very promising, though, and my relief didn’t stick around for long, packing up its bags and sprinting out the door the second I opened my eyes.

I ignored the fact that my throat was already painfully sore from earlier and began my screaming match again. Only this time wasn’t with the void, but with the dark clouds and the rapidly approaching ground below me. I hastily spotted I was going to hit a tree before coming to a possibly fatal landing on the grass, so I did all I could think of. I reached behind me, moving my rucksack as quickly as I could despite the aerodynamics, from my back to my face, wrapping my arms around the bag and curling my legs into me to prevent injuries as much as possible.

It wasn’t long before I hit something. Hard. And another thing. And another. All the while I was scratched and whipped by twigs all around me. A short moment of falling again passed, until I slammed into the ground with a loud thud. A deafening shriek ripped through my throat, wailing as agony shot through every part of my body. Despite the evidence of magic existing, it seemed no mercy would be given since something, if not several, things felt very broken. I forced my eyes open through the torture, blinking rapidly as rain hammered at my face, light filling my vision for the first time in what felt like forever, even if it was only dim.

Forcing the bag off me, I rolled over in the sodden grass, letting out involuntary cries of anguish as my body trembled from both the excruciating pain and freezing temperatures.

 Managing to roll onto my front, I tried my best through this nightmare to kick in my first aid training, to figure out just what parts of my body had the misfortune of baring the worst of the impact. My head was lucky, the bag only letting it receive a few knocks. My torso, not so much, with my painful breathing telling me a few ribs had definitely cracked.

My left wrist was completely trashed, seeing as I could hardly move it as it already had begun to turn red and swell up. However, as if by some miracle, my legs were intact, albeit a bit sore and with some definite bruising, not to mention the twisted ankle.

Thanking whatever kept me alive, I used my right arm to push myself up, trying not to twist too much to save myself from slipping over in the wet mud and tormenting myself further. I carefully retrieved my bag and shakily cradled my left hand to my chest. Only then was I able to finally take in what was around me.

Blinking through the rain that was collecting on my lashes, I saw it was like I was back in the forest, though it looked like something out of a fairy-tale. Twisting my head around, I observed that I was in some sort of meadow, filled to the brim with flowers of every colour. Perfect for frolicking in if it wasn’t pouring with rain, and also if you haven’t just fallen from the uppermost atmosphere. It was bordered by a darkened forest of oak trees, with possibly the most vibrant, dark green leaves I’ve ever seen. A pond, I guessed was about ten metres across or so in diameter, was tucked in at the edge, between the border of flowers and trees. It was also daytime, albeit still dark and grey, from what I could make through the hammering rain.

Taking shaky breaths, I peeled wet strands of hair from my face whilst trying to ignore the blood mixing with the water on my arm. I took a minute or so to calm down as much as I could, trying my best to focus on my surroundings as I tried to get the dizzying pain and cold turn from sharp jabs into a dull throbbing. Though I wasn’t able to get that far.

Because today decided that what I had endured wasn’t enough and sent me another lovely experience.

The screaming I had heard from the void returned, though I knew it definitely wasn’t me this time, with it now coming from above, and it was gaining on where I was very rapidly. Squinting up through the raindrops hitting my face, I scoured the dark grey sky above me. From out of the corner of my eye, a figure fell past in a blur, and my head twisted in its direction, despite the developing ache in my neck, as the sound of an object hitting water filled my ears. I watched in shock as the once still pond crashed around in violent waves as whatever hit it sent water flying high into the air, soaking a vast area of the meadow.

Dropping my bag, I pushed myself to my feet with a wince and hopped over as fast as I could, coming to a stop on the slippery edge of the pond. I watched as it kept churning and splashing, and I realised the figure was most definitely drowning.

My lifeguard training flashed in my mind and I jumped in. The adrenaline now pumping in my veins blocked me from feeling most of my broken bones as I wrapped my arms around the mass of flailing limbs, quickly dragging them out the water and pulling them up onto the bank.

Eventually said mass of limbs had calmed down and was now leant on their knees and elbows as they retched up pond water. Seeing that they were alive, I collapsed for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“I thought you said you weren’t jumping in after me?” heaved a familiar voice from beside me.

I whipped my head around in shock, practically giving myself whiplash, to see Kay hunched over on the bank next to me, looking exactly like she did several hours ago, albeit now soaked from head to toe, her copper hair sticking wherever it could on her face. I shrieked many indiscernible noises, almost refusing to believe that she was here after all that. All I could do was wrap around her in a desperate hug, finally feeling like I was no longer going to hyperventilate for the fiftieth time that day.

Letting go, we took some time to calm down and regain our energy. The burning question still stood firm, however, as we observed our surroundings. We both looked at each other, eager to ask questions, but the inconceivable events from today left us utterly dumbstruck, too stunned to even say a word to each other. We were totally tongue-tied.

Although it didn’t last long.

All that movement had jostled my injuries, and I let out a quite hiss as the adrenaline wore off, my whole body feeling like I had been run over three times and processed through a meat grinder.

Kay’s head moved like flash, setting her scrutinising eyes on my pained grimace, before scanning my soggy appearance. A gasp flew out as she caught sight of the now dried streaks of blood down my right arm. Reaching out she snatched up my wrist and I opened my hand as much as I could, allowing her to survey the gashes across my palm and fingers.

She raised her eyebrow at me, looking for an explanation and I sheepishly admitted to trying to poke a magical veil with a stick. She wasn’t amused.

“Did you wanna take a picture?” I kidded, doing my best to lighten the atmosphere, whilst also trying to focus on anything but my hand.

My attempt seemed to work, though, as it wasn’t a second before her phone was out her bag, zooming in on my open hand, the camera shutter going off several times as I cracked up as much as my ribs would allow me at her priorities.

As she went to return it, I used that hand to drag over my bag, unzipping it to take out my miniature first aid kit. Swivelling back, she furrowed her brows in confusion at me using my bloodied hand. She eyed my other hand, watching as I cradled it to my chest as I attempted to open the kit with one hand.

“What else happened?” she demanded. I looked up at her sheepishly.

“I mayyyy have broken a fewwww….. bones?” I meekly confessed; my voice shaky as the waves of pain crashed over. I withdrew slightly at the sight of her expression hardening. “I didn’t exactly hit the water like you did.”

“Bones.” She deadpanned.

I darted my eyes around, scratching the side of my neck with a finger whilst avoiding eye contact with the storm that was now developing in front of me.

“Like…. A couple ribs and my wrist?” I smiled nervously, slowly dragging the first aid kit towards me with my bleeding hand to see if I could open it again. “It’s not like you can say anything, with your borderline concussion.” I pointed out the large cut on her forehead and the fact she was blinking far too much whilst also swaying slightly.

A hand swatted me away, before snatching up the kit. Within a minute or so my arm was cleared of both fresh and crusted blood, red replaced with white as Kay secured the bandage in its place with medical tape. I tried my best with my ruined hands to stick the large plaster over her cut in return, after she had cleaned it.

After tidying the equipment away, she clambered to her feet. Stretching out her painfully sore back with a groan, she scanned our current location, the both of us now recalling that we were currently god knows where. I tried my best to follow suit, carefully pushing myself up and limping over.

“Where in the actual fresh hell are we?” I asked. Kay shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m just as clueless as you.” She replied. She stared at my swelling wrist before deciding. “We have to find a village or town though, otherwise you’re fucked the most if we stay out here.”

I agreed with her and retrieved my bag. Not seeing that she had spotted my limp.

“Don’t tell me your ankle’s fucked as well!” She cried over the rain. I turned around slowly to see her displeased expression.

“It’s only twisted.” I explained nervously. God she had eyes like a hawk.

With a frustrated sigh, she strode over and reached into one of the front pockets of my bag. Taking out the spare tote bag I had packed, she insisted on lightening my bag’s contents, as to not worsen my injuries.

Slowly but surely, due to my mangled ankle and her aching back, we chose a direction we thought best and began our trek, leaving the meadow behind as we entered the dark forest.

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

<; Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

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Can't wait to see you on the 14th April for Chapter 5! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist:

@opheliasdrowningg @mrsdurin @g1gglef1t @qmabailor @jupiterrdarling

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[burgers-and-french-fries]

Hello!!! How are you? The moment I read the be creative part in the dos and donts I had this idea...now just hear me out. Jimmy and Eggsy are twins (or brothers whatever works best for u <3) separated at birth which is how they ended up w their own separate lifes. At some point they find out about each other bc of Eggsys work. The reader is Eggsys best friend who is also a Kingsman and meets Jimmy (maybe at Eggsys wedding?) And Jimmy being Jimmy is all flirty and things start to develop between them? Could you maybe write about it? Ofc only if you have time and like the idea!

Note: Hi lovely. I want to thank you for your immense patience with me.

I know that this is on the short side but I'm proud of it. Also, sorry if there is spelling mistakes and other grammatical errors, I did try and edit but I may have missed some things.

I hope that you enjoy!

===

Bad boy Jimmy Keene had grown up in an unhealthy home feeling like he had been missing a part of himself. For the longest time, he tried to fill that void with anything and everything he could think of. Drugs, alcohol, cars, money, weapons and most of all, women. He loved women.

He loved how he could chill with them the way he couldn’t with a man. He loved how their hands fit in his and he loved making them moan and scream his name. He loved the powerful feeling he got when they would look at him as though he was their next meal….the feeling more than mutual.

The one thing he loved more than anything? The darkened corners of the strip clubs he would visit on a late Friday night. A Friday night much like this one.

Jimmy swaggered into the building with a confidence about him that most of the people inside could never possess. Everyone except you.

You watched from the bar as Jimmy settled into his corner before the person in your ear piece spoke.

“Focus please, agent Vivian.” Merlin spoke as he noticed the woman staring at their target.

“I am. I’m watching the target to make sure he doesn’t do anything.” You said sassily, making Eggsy laugh through the ear piece.

You and Eggsy had been friends for a very long time and when this case came up, you were paired together which was a choice that Merlin now found himself regretting.

“I still can’t believe that we found him.” Eggsy said in disbelief that they were tracking his long-lost twin brother.

That fact he even had a brother to begin with was surreal to Eggsy but to find that the brother was identical to him, that was worlds of surreal that he didn’t think existed.

Before you could reply with your two cents on the matter, Jimmy was on the move and heading straight to where you were sitting.

You hadn’t noticed it but while you were talking to your colleagues, Jimmy’s eyes had fallen upon you, and he was enamoured by you and your beauty.

“Hello gorgeous.” Jimmy greeted as he came to a stand still next to you.

Your breath hitched when you faced him. It was like you were staring at Eggsy except Jimmy had an American accent and had black hair as apposed to Eggsy’s brown hair and south London accent. Sure Eggsy was hot and fucking sexy but Jimmy seemed to put Eggsy to shame.

“Gorgeous?” You questioned with a quirked brow.

“You’re right, you’re more than that.” Jimmy said, eyeing you up and down.

It made you feel self conscious if you were being honest, even if you did think Jimmy was modeled after a Grecian god.

“Does that shit ever work for you?” You asked, somewhat unimpressed that he was trying to get into your pants.

“You go girl.” Merlin whispered, speaking to you through your ear piece.

You wanted to laugh out loud at the Scotsman, but you didn’t. You held it in.

“Come on now, I saw you watching me.” Jimmy said, leaning in a little closer.

You tried to keep your cool.

“Who says it was out of interest?” You questioned with a hint of cheek in your tone.

Jimmy’s brows raised in surprise. He had never had someone so attractive play hard to get the way you were.

“I like you.” Jimmy said, pointing his finger at you as a smirk appeared on his face.

“Good to know.” You replied.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Jimmy asked and you shrugged.

“Nothing cliché and girlie.” You told him, giving in just a little, though you could feel Eggsy’s gaze burning a hole in your brain.

“Agent Vivian, there is no time for this now.” Merlin lectured.

You cleared your throat and made excused yourself to the bathroom.

Did you return to Jimmy against Merlin and Eggsy’s wishes, perhaps. Did you have a good time, maybe. Did you and Jimmy do the deed, you weren’t one to kiss and tell.

All you knew was that this bad boy had you wrapped around his little finger.

===

Tag List:

@elizami11s @geo-winchester @stilessbaseballbat

[kismetmoon]

um i’m no seasoned writer but i’ve been having this scenario play on loop in my head and im too lazy to draw it out so i wrote it out instead. i might start doing this with small snippets i think up then make them into comics if i really like them and / or have the time. i have all these characters and i feel like i should, yknow, use them for stuff

‘GUARD!’, came a shrieking echo from down the long, winding halls of the Circles’ estate.

Atlas knew this voice all too well: Adam Siglon. Chief Circle’s advisory square. While he was supposed to be balancing books on his head (or whatever squares did in their free time, Atlas wasn’t too sure), he could always be found sticking his angle where it wasn’t wanted.

This time, it must have been a great disturbance for his echo to travel as far as him at this time of night. Not many other guards were on duty at this time, most had signed off for the day to go home to their families. They were replaced with a night shift squadron that was only half their population. Altas was still on duty, however, like he always was. He was used to getting maybe three or four hours of sleep during the day anyways, if he was lucky.

Unfortunately, he knew he was the closest guard around, and so tiredly made his way to the screaming source. He glanced back at the door he really should have been protecting, the entrance to the Chief’s son’s bedroom - the golden heir. Atlas huffed and dragged his eye from the door as he rounded the corner, finding himself now staring at the disgruntled square at the end of the hallway.

Mr. Siglon was tapping his foot impatiently as Atlas crossed the hall at uniform speed, taking joy at the square’s ever growing frustration at his slow pace. When they were finally standing eye to eye, Mr. Siglon took a sigh that sounded like a mixture of exaggerated exasperation and genuine relief.

‘Better late than never, as per usual with you lot’, Mr. Siglon mumbled under his breath. ‘I have a small job for someone of your, er, talents, to take care of’.

He pointed his finger to the door on his left that was ever so slightly ajar. Atlas followed where his finger was pointed, but all he could see was the inky blackness of the unlit room.

‘See in there? I just watched someone run down this hall and hide in there. I’m not sure who it was, but it certainly wasn’t any guard. Far too small. I want you to go and find whoever is in there. Kick. Them. Out. We have no tolerance for trespassers, especially on such sacred grounds such as these’, Mr.Siglon said, directing his voice into the void of a room beside them on that last sentence, in hopes that said trespasser would hear it and do what? Feel guilty?

Atlas simply shrugged, grabbed the lit candle from the sconce on the wall, and went in as the square suddenly closed the door behind him.

‘Good luck!’, came from behind the door, Mr. Siglon’s voice oozing with sarcasm.

Atlas rolled his eye and began to tilt the flame around the room, scanning for the perpetrator. He quickly realised he was in the music room, mostly due to the massive grand piano laying in the centre of the floor. He started to circle the piano as he lit up the walls and surrounding furniture. There was nothing on the left side but some plush pinstripe chairs adorned with dark wooden frames. He moved around to the back of the piano, by the tall arched windows. He tried to look outside to the courtyard, but it was almost as dark out there as the room he was already in. It was only slightly lit by the few occupied rooms contained within the surrounding walls.

He was starting to walk back to the door, thinking Mr. Siglon had just been paranoid so late at night (or he was on his sixteenth cup of coffee of the day), when he heard the soft shuffling of fabric behind him. He swung around, the flame of the candle nearly dying at the velocity of the turn, and stared straight ahead at the curtain beside the rightmost window. He could feel his frame turning whiter than it already was when he bent the candle down to reveal two small feet of someone hiding behind said curtain.

Slowly but surely, Atlas creeped his way towards the curtain, flame shaking slightly in his hand. How he wished he still had his spear on him, but he had left it laying against the wall beside Chief Jr’s door. He closed the distance between the curtain and himself when the floor let off a horrible creaking sound underneath him, causing the half hidden feet under the curtains to stand on their tiptoes.

‘They know I’m in here with them now’, Atlas thought.

He set the candle down on the windowsill, took in a gasp of air and placed his hand gingerly on the ruffles of the curtain. He quickly pulled it back and raised his free hand to strike the perpetrator. He held his fist in the air for some time as he examined the tiny figure in front of him, now hunched down and curled into a small ball beneath him.

‘A child’.

Atlas uncurled his fist and gently bent down beside the small figure, instead offering out his hand slowly. A small eye peeped out from behind the arms shielding it, and a little line looked back. Her pupil blew huge upon seeing his face. She stood up, but was still slightly hunched over. She examined his face a bit more before she gasped and her eye broke into a smile.

‘D-!’, she started, before Atlas panicked and waved his hands around before putting a finger under his eye in a shushing motion.

Her smile instantly dropped, but once he smiled back at her it picked up again. Atlas looked cautiously back at the door, but there was no reaction from Mr. Siglon outside.

‘He mustn’t have heard anything then. Good’.

Atlas picked the little line up under her arms, her white nightdress swaying with the swift movement. The line looked up at him with her big eye, but Atlas was too busy looking around the room to notice her gaze. He stopped and looked back at the window, opening it ever so slightly and placing her outside on the gravel path of the courtyard.

She looked up at him confused and concerned. He furrowed his brow and started to make a sign with his hands. He pinched his fingers to his thumb with one hand and placed it beside his eye. He then moved this hand down to meet his other hand in front of his chest, both now balled into fists, and touched the wrist of his lowered hand with the second hand.

‘Home’.

The little line looked up at him once more, stepping backwards before stopping and looking at him once again. He quickly made another sign to reassure her. He presented the palm of one hand to her with his fingers spread out. He bent his ring finger and middle finger down and kept the rest of his fingers stationary.

‘I love you’.

She glanced at his hand and back to him, running back towards the window. She reached up and he embraced her as best he could from his side of the window. She quickly took off and out of the courtyard, heading straight for the exit with the brick arch. Atlas watched her until she was out of view, then took the candle from the windowsill and headed back to the door.

There was no sign of Mr. Siglon now. He had left him to fend for himself. Which Atlas could, but it would have been nice to have had some sort of backup, in case it really had been a bloodthirsty assassin or something along those lines. Atlas checked up and down the halls before he scoffed and headed back to his post by the bedroom door for the night. He stared at his feet while he walked, pondering what time it was and if he was due to go home soon. He was in for a worrisome couple of hours, thinking about the little line and if she would make it back home alright.

But he knew that she always did.