#i would burn down the world just cause but also kill a man for those i love

[duhnova]

you remind me of jeonghan a little, a prankster and a force of chaos but also very very sweet and loving ♡♡♡♡

see xan you get me! me and jeonghan are the same person (though elv might argue because i have a small coke addiction but i digress)…

which kpop idol do i give off the same energy as?

[seneon]

heyhey i just found your blog cause my love for touya just came back and i really liked your headcannons on him and how you picture him with an harley quinn girlie, it’s just how i picture him too.

can you write something based on the phrase “call and i’ll rush out” or “i’d let the world burn for you”, i really think they both match him so much. thank you so muchhh

LET THE WORLD BURN ──── joker¡! touya.

about. joker¡! touya × fem harley¡! reader trope + coded headcanons. apart of kiss me until my lips fall off.

notes. i will reduce the toxicity in the jarley trope trust. also their theme song is definitely let the world burn and always been you, both by chris grey.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ joker¡! touya. who's actually rottenly smitten with you, his only reason of living besides the man who created him. you're his pride and joy, the light to his darkness. this man treats you like a spoiled brat, always having a reward for you no matter what you do. he's so sooo damn sugary with his words too, calling you names that would make you feel like melted jelly. seeing your reaction also feeds to his ego.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ joker¡! touya. who's mad, like. insane, unhinged, out of his sick mind. yet he still puts you above every and anything else, even if it means he has your life on the line. though, touya always makes sure to have you behind his back where you cannot see whatever he has executed in your presence. of course, he doesn't want his pretty girl to drink in a bloody sight, even if your gaze have been tainted red.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ joker¡! touya. who will be at your side in literal seconds or minutes, depending on the situation and his wrath that burns. "just call, and i'll rush out, pretty doll," he says, voice so enchantingly dangerous that it pulls you into a pool of obsession. "mm, i will," you always reply to him and he's always kissing your bloodstained lips just so he could clean your lips for you because he doesn't want any nasty and unwanted dirt on his sweet beautiful girl.

𖥔 ݁ ˖ joker¡! touya. who would let the world burn just. for. you. and he actually does it. he burns, sets places on fire, creates flaming chaos and calamity all for the sake of you. doesn't matter if you're attacked or not. if you don't like one place, touya will not hesitate to ignite that place on fire. if you're treated badly at that venue, fire. men leered at you? flame. it's dirty or slightly discomforting to you? burn burn burn. what's the surprise? he'll kill for you so why won't he burn down places just for you?

𖥔 ݁ ˖ joker¡! touya. who doesn't forget that you're just like him sometimes, all in love and over him like a leech. he loves the way you'd excitedly greet him and immediately shower him with kisses all over his face. sometimes he's angry and he doesn't want kisses, you can tell. you'd let him cool off a little. and every single time, touya will be the one who calls out to you and insist you come closer to him. then he lets you shower him with the affection that he needs most. makes him happier that you'll him about your day and how you handled a few men and knocked them out cold when they want to harass you. he's so proud of his girl ♡ but look, those men will never see the light of day ever again.

© SENEON 2024 ♱ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[sollis-occasum]

you think i'm gone 'cause i left - anakin skywalker/darth vader x fem!jedi!reader (part 2 of 3)

a/n: you can read it as a stand-alone ♡

summary: when a ghost born from his past regrets returns to haunt him, darth vader has no choice but to confront it.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, blood, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex (no smut), reader is manipulating darth vader (but in a girlboss way), darth vader and darth sidious are their own warnings, no proofread, my english is the biggest warning.

word count: 2k

part 1

Darth Vader, who made the galaxy tremble with fear just by the idea of ​​his existence, had subdued leaders who were said to never bow down, destroyed kingdoms that were said to never be destroyed, and made even the proudest warriors beg for mercy. Ironically, the only person who could bring this Sith Lord, who struck fear into every beating heart, to his knees was the ghost of a woman whose heart had stopped years ago.

Was his master manipulating his thoughts to create an illusion of you in order to punish his failures? Or were you the reflection of a ghost trapped in this world because the parts of his soul that belonged to Anakin Skywalker were not ready to let you go?

Darth Vader had no answers to these questions. If there was one thing he knew, it was that you were haunting him and that you would not let go until his heart, which had become a mass that did nothing but pump blood, was numb and torn apart with pain and regret.

Your presence wasn't always this disturbing to be honest, at first he was taking a pleasure in seeing you that he couldn't even admit to himself. You were looking at him with a magnificent light in your eyes that even the greatest massacres and most brutal executions you had ever witnessed couldn't extinguish, you were smiling at him affectionately as if the man in front of you wasn't a war criminal but the little boy you entrusted your lightsaber to. Sometimes he felt a shiver as if you were running your hands over his armored shoulders, and this sweet feeling that covered his entire body reminded him of the times you spent together. Perhaps it was  your presence mixed with the air he breathed that prevented Darth Vader from taking complete control...

However, with each passing day in the empire of fear he and his master had established; with every innocent person he ruthlessly killed, with every enemy he tortured with disregard for their honor in the hope of getting information about his plans, the mask that had become the symbol of brutality was sticking more to the face underneath and his new identity was taking over him

While his burnt, torn body was trapped in an armor, the only thing that gave him a sense of freedom  was his memories of you. But they began to fade one by one, leaving nothing but the memory of your bloody body being dragged by a clone soldier. Your first meeting at the temple, the first time he held you in his arms at the weapons factory that had become a battlefield, the exchange of your lightsabers, the first mission you officially went on together, the first moment he realized he liked you, the first kiss you shared, the first night you spent together... All of them were so distant now.

Maybe that was why your ghost had also slowly begun to change. Your reflection no longer radiated the noble glow it had when you first appeared; your image was more colorless, paler. The sweet feeling he felt when you appeared had been replaced by a pain like an ice burn. You weren't even smiling. A disgusted expression that you only reserved for the most vicious criminals in the galaxy appeared on your face. Especially those eyes... Darth Vader had never seen even his greatest enemy look at him with such devastating hatred.

"You killed me," you said with great anger. "You are responsible for my death!"

Darth Vader had tried everything not to witness those words that had been echoing in his mind for years coming out of your lips. He had told you to leave, tried to ignore you, used the force to disperse your reflection... But you weren't leaving! No matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of you. Finally, he was about to ask his master for help, even if it meant enduring his punishment for being weak, when you asked a question he couldn't leave unanswered.

"Where's my lightsaber, Anakin?"

You were in the throne room of his fortress on Mustafar. Darth Vader was thinking deeply, leaning his arm on the edge of his throne and leaning his helmet on his hands, when he heard your hysterical voice. He reached for his lightsaber as a reflex, but he also knew that the only enemy who could stand against his saber, which was red as if referring to the blood he had shed, was you.

"Anakin... A name I haven't heard in a long time," he said with his robotic voice hiding his emotions. But he also knew that he couldn't hide his feelings from you. You knew his deepest desires and fears. You might have been living in different bodies, but you two were the same person.

You smiled mockingly as if he was a buffoon instead of a commander who had the galaxy wrapped around his finger. "You didn't think I would call you by that funny name your master gave you, did you? Please don't take offense, but you have the stupidest name out of all the Sith Lords."

"How dare you!?" he roared, raising his hand into the air and trying to throw you to the other side of the room with the help of the force, but nothing happened. You continued to stand tall. Apparently, even the force couldn't harm those who didn't belong in the world of the living.

"Do you really think you can get rid of me like that? It's surprising that a ruthless Lord like you can have such naive ideas."

Although you emphasized the word ruthless, an expression appeared on your face as if the anger of the man in front of you amused you.

"What are you and what do you want from me?"

You slowly shrugged your shoulders and started to wander around the throne room. Sometimes you would delicately run your fingers over the objects in the room and sometimes you would go behind the throne and watch the hellish view of Mustafar. There was a silence that Darth Vader, even the most fearless man in the universe, did not dare to break. Finally, you answered the question in a low voice, "Only you can know the answer." Obviously, the answer you gave was not satisfactory for you either.

"I could be your guilt or your regret. Maybe I am your remorse that you cannot silence. Who knows?"

"Nonsense." Darth Vader snapped. "I have no regrets about the past. Such feelings are only excuses for those who are weak enough to succumb to them."

"You may not have it, but Anakin Skywalker does. Maybe that's why you can't defeat him. The remnants of him you can't destroy are suffering, right? Even if you block your ears, you can hear his screams. The more you try to suppress him, the more he finds ways to survive. Look, his pain has created me: the only enemy you can't defeat."

"Shut up! You're not real!"

In a sudden move, he took his lightsaber and tried to separate your head from your body, but your reflection only waved for a few seconds.

"That's what I meant when I said the only enemy you can't defeat." You said with an exasperated tone and rolled your eyes. "Anyway, you've asked enough questions. Now answer my question. Where's my lightsaber?"

"Obi-Wan took it." he said with great passion. His hands clenched involuntarily as he said his former master's name. Even his robotic voice couldn't hide his hatred.

"Ah, I see. So you couldn't protect it. What a shame, it really was a beautiful lightsaber."

You slowly walked towards the throne and sat on the armrest. You tried to keep a sad expression, but it was obvious that the commander’s failures were amusing you. You began to gently run your hands over his shoulders. Even the touch of your abstract presence was enough to soothe him. You could feel him relax under his armor.

“I didn’t think you would give up the only thing I had left so easily.”

“We made a deal. First I saved your life, then you saved mine. After you paid your debt to me, I had no reason to protect the lightsaber.”

"So you're saying that our only bond was some stupid pact we made when we were kids? That the lies we told our masters just so we could spend time together, the kisses we shared, the nights we spent together meant nothing? Don't expect me to believe that, Anakin. If I were truly that worthless to you, you wouldn't have built this fortress on Mustafar as a monument to your failures, you wouldn't have found every clone trooper there that day and tortured them all to death, and most importantly, you wouldn't have sold your soul to your new master in order to save me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you removed your hands from his shoulders and gripped his chin tightly. Technically, you had no power over him, and your fingers had even passed through his mask, but Darth Vader had surrendered to you so much that he lifted his head slightly, just as you wished he would.

"Do you know what I'm actually thinking? Maybe your desire to be Palpatine's toy has nothing to do with me, Skywalker. You turned to the dark side to save me, didn't you? Nonsense! You were just looking for a new master, that's all."

These were words that were too degrading and humiliating for a Sith Lord like him, who was used to being feared and obeyed. He rose from his throne in a sudden movement and held his hands out to you. He knew that he could not harm you, but for the first time, he felt that his anger was harming him, not powering him. He had to do something to get rid of you! However, his desperate efforts to catch you were only making you laugh.

You sat down comfortably on the throne that was vacated by him and crossed your legs with confidence. Your hands were gripping the throne on either side as if you were its rightful owner.

"Look, you can't even sit on the throne, Anakin," you said. "How pathetic."

"The men your master has given you, or that stupid word added to your new name, mean nothing. No matter how much you deny it, you are nothing but a slave. When you were a child, you belonged to Watto, now you belong to Sidious."

Darth Vader clenched his hands into fists and held them up to his face, "I rule the galaxy," he shouted at you. But his voice was weaker, more insecure. You continued, enjoying the pleasure of hitting him in his most sensitive spot.

"No, your master rules the galaxy. You are merely one of his insignificant, dispensable puppets. You have no free will, you still have the soul of a slave. You need others to control you in order to survive. In the past, you needed Obi-Wan and my approval, now you look to your master for help. Because you destroyed everyone who ever cared for you for nothing, and no one else has accepted the monster your sins have created."

"Why are you punishing me like this?"

You had finally done it! The most powerful man in the galaxy, that magnificent figure who bowed to no one but his master, was now kneeling in front of you, his hands on his helmet as if to silence the thoughts in his mind. He was trying to stop Anakin Skywalker, whom he thought he had killed years ago, from taking control with the strength he got from your screams, but he couldn't.

"I am not punishing you, Ani. You are doing this to yourself. Do you want to get rid of me? Then go and avenge me. Make your crimes have meaning. You know who your enemy is."

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen @etheriaaly @ariskywlkr @tellybearryyyy @anisgurll

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Mc get´s kidnapped by Demon worshipers and has a nice conversation with their Demons

Lucifer:

for some reasons robe wearing weirdos kidnapped you while you were in the Human World on behalf of Lucifer

and turns out they wanted to use you as a sacrifice to summon Lucifer

I mean not how that thing works but hey if they want to see Lucifer fine by you, I mean it won´t be your death sentence so you don´t care about what will happen

and yeah at first they cheered but as soon as they noticed Lucifer was freeing you and looking at them with more anger than you ever saw from him

it went from happy cheering to blood chilling screams very fast

but you got cuddles with Cerberus and how many snacks as you wanted from Lucifer so pretty great day in your book

Mammon:

so not only do you get kidnapped by golden robe wearing weirdos but they also want to throw you into a pot of melted and burning hot Gold to summon Mammon?

pretty weird if you ask me but hey if they so desperately want Mammon you can get him for them but you already know he will be pissed about his Human nearly getting sacrificed

and he was reaaaally pissed about them trying to sacrifice the Great Mammon´s Human!

he killed them so fast they didn´t even get a chance to scream for mercy

after that he just collected you, and the Gold because that´s a lot and he can earn a lot of Grimm with it, and went back home

after that both of you just spent the reminder of the day together and had a nice sleepover, or rather Mammon was scared of you getting kidnapped again and refused to let og of you no mater what

and when I say no matter what I mean he tried following you to the toilet

Leviathan:

so you got kidnapped by a bunch of introverts who wanted the Avatar of Envy, honestly if they didn´t kidnap you they could have been online friends with Levi

but hey if they want to see him angry not only because they kidnapped his Henry but also because they distracted him from a limited time re-run from his favorite Anime fine by you

and wow that was one hell of a view, you thought he would have just drowned or killed them using Lotan but nope he also killed some of them

if he didn´t blush from your praise about him being really cool in this moment he would have seemed even cooler

he also invited you to watch his Anime with him, probably because he needs to make sure his Henry won´t disappear again

Satan:

yeah uh so you didn´t summon him this time, some people just took you with them while you and Satan were playing with a bunch of kittens

and he just tracked you down, needless to say those guys didn´t even have the smallest survival chance

you never saw Satan this brutal usually you thought the worst you saw of him when a Demon kicked a Cat, but no this is like this time times a million

all that was leftover at the end of the day was pulverized bones, blood and some mushy flesh that once made up a Human body, if the smell didn´t made you nauseous you would have been almost impressed

after all of this the both of you just went back to play with the kittens and as understandable as it was the kittens kept their distance from Satan, which crushed him

Asmodeus:

someone just took you when both of you went shopping in the Human world

Asmo was looking at a new dress for himself and when he turned around you were gone, which isn´t that uncommon but after being gone for a day he got really concerned

and shortly after him getting concerned you summoned him and man was he pissed, not only did those guys cause him to worry about you but they also caused him to get a grey hair because of them, the nerve of some people!

after Asmo freed you, both of you just decided to not give those guys anymore attention you just locked them in their building and burned it down

afterwards you and Asmo had a nice nap together as if nothing ever happened and you didn´t just burn who knows how many people to death \^-^/

Beelzebub:

so you got kidnapped in the Human world by stereotypical Devil Worshipers, pretty boring and shows their lack of creativity if you ask me

and all they need you for was an edible sacrifice for Beel, which to be honest if it wasn´t you he would have probably eaten it guess lucky for the random person who didn´t get chosen

but hey if the want to feed Beel I´m sure he would love to eat them instead :)

which is what he did after you summoned him, it surprised you how fast he managed to eat them you would have thought eating a Human would take more time but nope he just finished them in seconds

afterwards Beel just took you with him to Hell´s Kitchen, seems like the only thing those Cultist did was make him hungrier

Belphegor:

why would anybody even want Belphie? even more so kidnapping you so you can serve as the sacrificial lamb

like what could they even need the Avatar of Sloth for? He doesn´t do much besides sleeping and making life difficult for Lucifer

but hey if they want Belphie they can have him but he won´t appreciate getting woken up and I guess the fact that people kidnapped you to kill you

guess you´ll just have to sit back and enjoy the show and man that´s one hell of a blood bath

guess his hatred for Humans isn´t completely gone

but hey you got some nice nap hours out of it without him trying to kill you so honestly you don´t care about what happened

Diavolo:

honestly you are more surprised that Diavolo can even be summoned than by the fact they have to kill 33 sinners to even hope they can reach him

bad for them you did actually spent time with Diavolo before you just disappeared

and man he was not happy when he found you

he really showed why he´s the Prince of the Devildom, it was really unusual to see Diavolo not just as a happy go lucky guy as always but as the future ruler of the Devildom

he didn´t even get rid of the blood before he just picked you up and locked you in the Demon Lord´s Castle

he really doesn´t want to risk you getting in any kind of danger again

Barbatos:

both of you were working in the garden and having a little competition over who can make the prettier bouquet, Barbatos excuse on spending time with you and giving you pretty flowers

when suddenly you were gone and all that was left were a couple of flowers

needless to say he was pissed and immediately went off to look for you and he didn´t think it was possible but his mood worsened when he saw you that you got kidnapped by people who thought sacrificing you would summon him

well they succeeded in summoning him but unfortunate for them he was in an extremely bad mood

he completely destroyed everything there it look like a bomb went off there afterwards he just cleaned you and brought you to bed

while watching you of course he can never forgive himself is someone steals you form under his nose ever again

[priceyprice]

Part 1 , Part 2

"Ghost, 'you there?"

Price said as he opened the door of Ghost's room, not finding surprising that his lieutenant was there instead in his house.

Ghost, who was sitting in a chair with his back facing the door, didn't even move at his captain voice calling him.

The older man sighed when his eyes landed on the glass of whiskey that he was holding. He entered, closing the door quietly. The room was only illuminated with just a dim light, giving the quiet man a more intimidating aura. If Price didn't know him, it would cause him a little surprise(not intimidation since Price has seen worse things than a guy with a skull mask).

He sat on his bed with his hands on his knees in front of Ghost, who hadn't taken his eyes off something he was holding.

"How much longer are you going to stay here? Do you know you have a home waitin' for ya'?"

Ghost finally stopped looking at the thing he had in his hand to look at his captain, who was with his brows furrowed but not in an angry expression.

" 'don't have a home."

My home was taken away the moment she went MIA.

His breathing began to grow more paused. That awful and familiar heavy feeling rose up from his chest through all his body. His fingers slowly put more pressure on his glass. The mask was down, he served himself a glass of whiskey to try and swallow that bitter sensation he always have when he thinks about her, but that didn't worked and caused him to lose interest in drinking that night.

Price just looked at him, not that look he always gives as a soldier, but as a friend that's worried about him. "Look, Simon. I know you want her back. Believe me, everyone wants her back. The team hasn't been the same since she left, but you can't let your emotions win the best of you. She wouldn't like you to be here drinking and swallowing your sorrow while having a home waiting for ya'."

Simon's eyes dropped to the petal he was holding in his hand. So soft and delicate, just like her eyes, her body, and her soul. He found it when he was taking a little stroll on his backyard, noticing the little red petal beside the flower he always looked at every day.

That was her flower.

She loved that flower so much. The instant she went MIA, he took responsibility for it. He would talk to it every day, as if the red flower would give him answers and tell him where she is.

His heart dropped when he saw the petal on the floor as a signal of losing hope.

A signal that he will never find her.

A signal that she will never return to him.

Ghost sighed. A shaky sigh. His world threatening to fall at any moment. The pillars that supported the last bit of sanity in his mind have started to grow cracks at the bases.

"Earlier today..." Ghost paused, trying to formulate his words. "I went to one of the old warehouses of the guy that kidnapped her owns. As I was searching for something that could lead me to her, I killed a few guys who worked for him. I also tortured two, but neither of them fucking knows a woman from the military in hands of that motherfucker."

Price sucked a breath as he hears those words, his pulse raising at an abnormal speed. Ghost didn't notify him that he was going to do something so dangerous without permission of his superiors.

That could cost the Captain's and the Lieutenant's job right there and then.

Instead of yelling or telling him that he's suspended for a least a month because of his reckless actions, Price just closed his eyes for a few seconds before he took the bottle of whiskey that was on the lieutenant's nightstand and drank a big shot of it.

Fuck, that's going to be a lot of paperwork for his ass.

Ghost passed his thumb over the petal, so lightly, afraid of breaking the little thing. It was almost as if somehow that red petal has some connection with her, and she can feel it.

He sighed again.

He missed her so much.

Price cleared his throat. His grip on the bottle tightened. "What did you do with the bodies?"

"I burned them."

Price just dropped his head low, probably thinking of his life choices before he took another sip from the bottle with those words. This time, he didn't stop drinking, trying to vanish with alcohol all the consequences and thoughts that were passing through his mind.

Ghost wasn't worried about the consequences or anything that came with his actions. When they took her away from him, a part of Simon died that day, only to be replaced with a void that would not go away until she's back. So, he gave those guys their destiny.

They are all gonna burn in hell.

And he will make sure of it.

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Masterlist here

I apologize for some grammatical errors. Any suggestions are welcomed. 🫶🏻

[unseededtoast]

Turtle Doves | Joel Miller

Part Twenty Two

Chapter Directory

Series Summary: In which two broken souls connect so deeply, that if one should perish, the other would surely die of a broken heart. (slow burn, timeline changes. After TLOU1, before TLOU2, assumed knowledge of infected, uses elements from both show and game)

Series Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, death, and sexual content.

Also cross posted on my Wattpad and AO3, if you prefer those formats. Here is a link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted.

"But that night you got hurt, I enjoyed killing them. I liked hearing them die in front of me, their blood staining my hands."

Joel and I don't stay in the town for another night, we continue on. Our pace is slower than what I've become accustomed to, but Joel's wound isn't completely healed yet. The two of us have been silent after our discovery, Joel didn't have anything to say after I declared my death threat. No, instead of saying anything, he just handed me the photos and nodded solemnly.

With the two of us getting closer and closer to Omaha, I find myself feeling appreciative of Joel's slower pace. This gives us opportunities to find things we may have otherwise missed. And it also gives me more time with him. Since his near-death experience, I find myself trying to memorize the way his eyes shine golden in the sunlight, the way his voice sounds in the morning, how his shirt clings to the broadness of his shoulders, just small details. The small details are the ones I know will fade first, and I want to be able to hold onto them for as long as possible.

I know this to be fact because I can no longer quite remember what Ryan's voice really sounded like, and I can't quite remember just how soft Lucas' hair was. The simple things about them have slowly faded from my mind without me realizing it, until I thought about them one day and could never truly remember. I've never been able to forgive myself for forgetting, and I know I don't want to forget these things about Joel. After all, he's the man who has kept me alive all this time.

A part of me wishes I could be there when he's reunited with his pseudo-daughter. I wonder if he's going to tell her about this, or never mention it to her at all. She would have no idea I exist, or that Joel and I took this trip together. I know Joel is trying to protect her from the people of this world due to her immunity, so it makes sense if he never tells her about any of this. She's still a child at the end of the day, and no child should hear that there's a bunch of crazed men out there trying to find and kill them. Even if she never knows about me, or any of this, I know I'll still be able to rest peacefully at night with the knowledge that I helped protect her.

"This okay for tonight?" We stop walking as Joel points out a small, run-down gas station. It's likely the only building for miles, and so I agree to stop here for the night.

As we set up our makeshift camp, I continue to think about the girl waiting for him back in Wyoming. After hours of on-the-road thoughts, I can't help but to be fascinated with someone who is immune. It's glaringly obvious that she's one of a kind. Sure, I've known for a while that she's immune, but I think it just took some time to process it, to really understand what it means and the ramifications of it. But mostly, I just want to know how it happened. What caused her to be immune and why it's not being replicated anywhere else, that we know of.

My eyes follow Joel's form as he starts the fire for the night, my thoughts anywhere but the present. I watch how he situates the flammable material while wondering what his life is like in Wyoming and if he's excited to be back. Obviously, he's probably eager considering he's got family waiting for him. He lights the fire and the amber glow illuminates his features in soft light. His eyes look warm and inviting, the curve of his nose beautifully adorns his face with unique character, the plumpness of his lips reflect with the drink of water he just took. As if he feels my eyes lingering on him, he looks over and meets my gaze.

"What's on your mind?" He asks, shifting back from the fire a few feet as it takes flame. My eyes dance between him and the fire, debating if I should confess or not.

"I um, I've just been thinking about a lot of things." It's not a complete lie, I guess. Orange flames rise and dissipate, crackling in front of us.

"About what? You've been quiet since this morning." Instead of confiding in him my most recent thoughts, I decide to unload the other thing that's been bothering me for a while now, since he was stabbed. With a sigh and a quick lick of my lips, I tell him my moral dilemma.

"I've never been one to enjoy taking a life. Didn't like it when I was on FEDRA gate duty, and I didn't like it when we ran into the Fireflies. But that night you got hurt, I enjoyed killing them. I liked hearing them die in front of me, their blood staining my hands. And I've been having these thoughts of what it's going to feel like to kill these people. It's almost anticipatory." Our eyes stay locked on one another as I speak, my words quiet and somber. With a shaky breath, I continue,

"And I'm not sure what that makes me. Am I really any different from them if I look forward to killing?" My throat constricts, like my body doesn't want me to voice my fear. The silence between us is palpable and dread grows in me with each second Joel doesn't say something. Not being able to handle the criticism when he opens his mouth, I focus on the fire.

"Doesn't make you a bad person, if that's what you're worried about." He finally speaks, and his words catch me off guard, the total opposite of what I was expecting.

"Then what does it make me? Because it isn't good." My voice cracks. I know it's not fair to be asking him these questions, but, I can't stop from asking them. He shifts his weight to his other side and leans forward slightly, looking deeper into my eyes and I fear if he looks too hard he'll be able to see right into my soul.

"Makes you human. Means you have purpose, something worth protecting. Or, in your case, a ledger to balance." There is no trace of anything but authenticity as he speaks, his words settling into my mind. My eyebrows come close together as I mull over what he's said and I realize he may be right.

"You know I really thought you were going to die that night." I change the subject slightly, not wanting to admit to him that he's becoming my 'something to protect' and a part of my 'ledger to balance'.

"And if I did I suppose it was just my time." He relaxes his posture as if the thought of death is no more stressful than deciding what he's going to wear the next day.

"Don't say that." I shake my head, not wanting any more images of his dead body in my mind. The one from this morning, from the photos, still haven't left my mind. Each time they pop up behind my eyelids, it instills a new fear in me each time.

"You did a damn good stitch job." He tries to lighten the mood, pulling up the hem of his shirt to show the still intact sutures.

"It's a wonder you didn't bleed out. Do you even remember what happened?" I'm not entirely sure how much he saw, or what he remembers. To answer my question, he shakes his head.

"Not really, just remember you gettin' there and the rest is just kind of-" He motions with his hands that his memory of the night has become scrambled.

"One of them got you real good with their machete. I stuffed the wound with my shirt to try to stop the bleed and then I had to get you to another building. On the ground just outside of where we ended up there was one of their torches, barely still burning on the sidewalk. So I took it and heated the blade of my hunting knife, then I cauterized the cut. Found the sewing supplies when I was looking around and just did my best. Truthfully, you lost a lot of blood, like, way too much." I give him the brief recounting of the night. His fingers lightly trace the stitching before he meets my eyes again.

"Thank you." He tenderly says, dropping the hem of his shirt.

"It was the least I could do." I shrug one of my shoulders. The silence between us returns for a few more moments before Joel announces that he's going to get some sleep for the night. I tell him I'm going to as well, but end up staying awake.

After a while, the flames of the fire begin dying off but my eyes remain affixed to the back of Joel. The shirt across his shoulders is drawn tight, battling to stay intact. His dark curls are barely brushing the collar of the shirt, more prominent from the humidity of the day. As my eyes wander down his solid form, the chain around my neck seems to burn my skin. Disgust with myself boils up from within, and I force myself to look away from Joel.

My gaze turns up to the ceiling and I try to flood my mind with how Ryan sounded, how he felt, how he loved me. Bits and pieces come back, like how his hand felt on my cheek, how solid his chest felt when I hugged him, but I cannot remember his voice. I can feel the timbre of it, but can't place the true tone and inflection. Tears well in my lower lash line as I accept that I genuinely can't remember him fully anymore. I've known for a while that certain things have faded, but I never took the time to mourn that loss, I have not allowed myself to mourn Ryan the way I should have all those years ago.

My hands curl into frustrated fists, my nails digging crescent shapes into my palm as silent tears run down my face. Tears of guilt for forgetting, tears of sadness because I can no longer remember all of my husband. Tears of fear because I realize that I may be falling in love with another man; one whom I cannot be with. I grit my teeth together in lieu of screaming and a hollow feeling opens in my chest.

Moving faster than my mind can keep up, I go outside where the air hits the wetness of my face and sends a shiver down my spine. Once I'm sure that I'm far enough to where Joel can't hear me, I let myself cry. With each ragged breath I take my chest heaves up and down unevenly. Tears uncontrollably run down my face and I grip the chain around my neck tightly, wishing I could just have one more second with my family, wishing I could feel the warmth of their skin on mine, to tell them how much I love them one final time. Hoping and praying that my love for them and their absence is enough to stave off the feeling blooming inside of me for Joel.

All through the past ten years I've yearned to have my family back, there's been a hole in my heart, a void that has never been filled since outbreak day. A void that hasn't been hurting as much the past couple of weeks. I've always missed Ryan and Lucas, but lately their absence has been a dull ache as opposed to the sharp stabbing I'm used to. I'm not sure what this means, because I know I love and miss them vehemently. But I also know how I feel about Joel.

Unable to stay standing, I lower myself to my knees, burying my face in my hands. My eyes squeeze shut and the tears fall off the ends of my eyelashes. Guilt overtakes me as I remember how on outbreak night Ryan protected Lucas and I to the best of his ability. How he told me he loved me, and that we were going to be alright. If only I had turned that corner first. Why was I the one to survive, but they had to die?

Guilt burns into anger and I blame myself for what happened. If only I had been brave enough to go first, then maybe they would still be on this Earth. I know they could've forged a life for themselves somewhere. Meanwhile I was content being shipped everywhere and ended up being a lowly pill runner. Why couldn't that FEDRA guard have shot the infected two seconds earlier and spared them? It just isn't right.

Sobs strain my throat while I try to stay quiet and I use the sleeve of my button up to wipe my nose. The stars above me shine brightly and I stare at them, stray tears falling down my cheeks. If only they could reach out to me and let me know that wherever they are, that they're together and they're not suffering, that they're not angry at me for feeling this way about Joel.

Ryan and Lucas will never be able to be replaced, they will always occupy a special place in my heart. I know I can never have them back with me physically, yet I know that they are forever with me, tethered to the very fiber of my being. But I feel that my heart is opening up a new spot, and I'm not sure I'll be able to kill whatever is blooming. I'm not sure I want to.

With wide eyes I search the sky for some sort of sign, some indication that my feelings are right or wrong. But my search is cut short when I hear the door of the gas station open. Quickly, I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe my face and hope that the darkness of night will conceal my puffy face. As my head turns to face Joel, I can almost swear I see a streak of light in the sky. But by the time I do a double take, whatever I thought I saw, is gone.

"Are you okay?" Joel's voice cautiously asks as he slowly approaches me. The stars are shining so bright tonight that I can see the familiar crease between his brows. His boots crunch softly on the loose pebbles on the pavement and I nod my head, trying to stabilize my breathing.

"I'm okay." My voice betrays me as I speak, it comes out hoarse. Joel comes to my side, and lowers himself next to me, crouching instead of resting on his knees.

"Why don't you come back inside? I'll get the fire started up again." I feel his eyes on me as I stare back at the sky, one last lone tear sliding down my cheek. Joel's words are smooth as honey, calming and soft. A gust of wind blows past us, sending another shiver up my body.

Joel must see the slight quiver as the breeze passes, and he puts an arm around my shoulders, the other under my elbow, and he helps me back to my feet. He keeps his arm gently wrapped around me as we go back to the gas station, and I lean into his touch out of instinct. Before we enter the building, I stop and take one last look at the sky, hopeful to see whatever it was that zoomed past when Joel stepped outside just to confirm what I think it was. But nothing happens.

I step back into the building in front of Joel, who works to get the fire reignited. My body begins to physically calm down from my crying, jagged breaths turn into hiccups. The first one shocks us both, but after the second I think I can almost see a tiny smile on Joel's face. However, when he turns to me after the fire is rebuilt all signs of a smile are gone and is instead replaced with a caring expression. Joel's dark brown eyes are wide and I see how his eyes look over my face, his shoulders aren't tight and rigid, he almost looks relaxed.

He walks over to me and leads me to what I've claimed as my spot for the night, marked by my backpack. Gingerly, he sits me down and crouches by my side once more, moving a rogue strand of hair out of my face that was plastered to my cheek from the tears. His fingers are warm against my face, and he lets them linger there for just a second longer than he needs to. My eyes slowly blink, appreciative of the contact. He licks his lips and his eyes look over my face once more, trying to piece together what's wrong.

"You don't have to tell me why, but I just need to know that you're alright, that you're not hurt." I look into his eyes that are inches from me and I nod with another hiccup jolting through me.

"I'm not hurt." My hoarse voice confirms to him and I wipe my cheeks with the back of my hand to dry them fully. I feel that my eyes are puffy, my lips swollen from keeping quiet and I hope I don't look as disheveled as I feel inside.

"Okay." Joel nods and only then does he back away from me. Though I wish he would stay. However, I know that with my uncertain emotions, that it's probably better he that he doesn't. For his sake. He doesn't need to be roped into my personal shit show.

Every few minutes a hiccup interrupts the quiet, and each time I see Joel struggle to keep a smile at bay. I'll admit, they do sound a little ridiculous and if I weren't so upset I'd probably laugh at them too. But as my hiccups calm down, I find myself transfixed by the dancing flames.

Perhaps I needed to come to terms with my reality, accept my losses, and understand how Ryan and Lucas are still a part of me to be okay with something new. And perhaps this something new is for the better. Even if it doesn't work out, at least I know I'm still human enough, capable enough, to keep going.

Twenty Three

[bruciemilf]

honestly the kryptonian daddy au is so cute wholesome and spicy at the same time aahhhhhhh~♡

does Clark (or Kal in this case) in this au growl??? not in the cringey fanfic way but like in this low but steadily increasing in volume, rumbling thing that just spikes DANGER ABORT MISSION FUCKING RUN! down the spine (and does Bruce find it sooooo fucking hot like Mark him down scared AND horny-) does he purr like a fucking loud motor engine with his kids????

also the whole polar bear imagery reminds me of those polar bears fucking drenched in blood so damn red and looking gory after their kills.

so imagine if Bruce finds him like that the first time he sees him. Like all those military bastards trying to kill Kal and (nobody is listening to Kal he needs to find his baby-) Kal is ends up causing.... severe bodily harm. There's blood splashed all over his hair, face and suit and Bruce finds him LIKE THAT and he goes

OH FUCK-

and

Oh fuck~!

At the same time. It's literal torture.

ABSO-MOTHERFUCKING-LUTELY

Look, give me the sunshine krytonians; give me powerful rays of sunshine who stubbornly refuse to forfeit their warmth. Give me kryptonians who refuse to be cold just because the world is.

But also. Give me Kryptonians who are truly unstoppable storms of nature when their babies get taken from them. Not only would Clark growl, he'll snarl and hiss and spit. Baring his fangs because they bit first.

Clark who catches a faint smell of sweet sunshine and tender, burnt metal, and unmissable scent of family on this masked soldier.

Clark who flies like a bullet, a knife in soft meat, through tanks and guns and fire, until he jumps on this man, careful not to obiscerate him.

On his back, Bruce admires, -- observes, -- him, and remembers sunshine doesn't glow. It burns. Those red ruby eyes steam with anger, with rage, with a fatherly desperation Bruce tastes all the time.

He roars at Bruce, so close to his face. There's a purring where fear should be.

He catches on too quickly. Jon tried roaring at him, too, althought he barely managed a faint squeak. "... I have him. And i have you, too. But you need to calm down."

He has no idea if Clark even understands what he's saying. But something in Bruce must convince him, because he's raised effortlessly on his feet. "Baby. Now."

Good lord. That voice.

How's he gonna explain this one to Alfred?

[pricescigar]

Love bites pt1

Elvira Wolff X John Price

Summary: Elvira Wolff, one of the most powerful Vampire hunters. After her father was driven by madness after turning into a Vampire, she made an impossible choice. A choice that had to be done.

Vampires are a plague, a plague that has been a part of human history for a long time. It all started in Medieval England, a man driven by madness. The legend of Dracula was spread through generations, let it be legend or folklore. Or a story to tell children before bed, all of the stories were true. If it wasn't for the Wolff Family to form the Hunters regime all those years ago, humanity wouldn't have survived the undead army.

Long live Reinhard Wolff. The man who Dracula away, for good. But the young sorcerer knew that was just the beginning.

With his great vast knowledge he and other allies formed the Hunters regime together as one. To protect the innocents from the creatures of the night, and all other supernatural creatures.

In foreign lands, Dracula found his new home. With his new found knowledge of science and magic, he built his new Castle. Free to do whatever he wished, in the midst of building his undead army and Vampire allies… What he mostly did. Was waiting. Waiting for her… After all, Dracula had all the time in the world now.

The Wolff family became a strong willed family as the generations went by, chasing Dracula to the foreign lands he presumably fled to. The family eventually settled into Wallachia. Soon, other hunters joined them and made their settlement there. And in 1455, Dietrich and Mia Wolff had a beautiful baby girl. And they named her Elvira Wolff. Unfortunately, due to the severity of the birth, Mia passed away.

Growing up Elvira had a difficult and strained relationship with her father, despite that Elvira wanted to become a Hunter like her father. And also because since it was what her family was known for, she didn't have any other choice. And so when she was old enough, she trained with him.

Elvira spent her days reading Supernatural books, training in the courtyard, knowing what spells to conjure to protect herself, to attack as well. And knowing when to catch a Vampire and kill it.

“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”

That's what her father always said to her the moment she became a Vampire Hunter, but how ironic he drove himself to madness because of his own work? Within a small time frame, Elvira had to bury her uncles and her godparents. With a heavy heart, she carried the burden of the fact her father now became a monster. She didn't dare to tell her other fellow hunters.

“He's just dreadfully sick.” She'd say.

“I do not know what it is.” She'd say.

“Perhaps in a few days he would be much better.” She'd say.

Nor could she even back up on what happened to her God parents now her uncles, Elvira felt her hear break every time when they were mentioned. But she had to keep her head held up high, wanting to be strong for the other hunters. Not showing one mount of emotion at all.

Elvira knew what it was. This was her problem, her problem that she had to deal with on her own. She never liked asking for help, and if anyone knew her father was a Vampire… The scandal It'll cause.

There was one thing she would never forget. How his eyes quickly changed to that crimson colour, to how his skin became pale as snow. His teeth became sharp like daggers; The thirst of human blood began.

A Vampire.

Her father always had a thirst for power, being a Vampire wasn't enough for him. He craved more and more each time, the claps and cheers of recognition wasn't enough. He always wanted more. Even if it meant becoming a Vampire with unlimited power and immortality. The monster Hunter becomes a monster himself.

Elvira had to make a choice one person shouldn't make, to save her own skin. She would burn the wolff estate down, with her father in it. When the clock struck midnight, her plan began.

Gathering every weapon she could possibly use to her advantage to defeat him. Knowing her father wouldn't be sleeping, she walked around her room getting her crossbow ready along with arrows dabbed in holy water. Elvira tied her hair back so it wouldn't get in her face, hearing flapping against her door Elvira glanced over to see a bat.

A large bat flapped it's wings against the window, Elvira did her best to ignore it knowing it was just some dumb bat. Or a Vampire who had transformed into a bat, waiting to be invited in.

“Shoo, go away. Filthy thing…” Elvira gestured her hands near the window, muttering under her breath in frustration. Watching it fly away from her window.

Elvira grabbed a stake and a hammer. She felt her heart thumping against her chest, quietly speaking to herself before walking over to her father's bedroom. From a manor that was always beautifully lit up, allowing sunlight in now became dark as the night with dimly lit candles dotted around. It would become a fire hazard if someone would accidentally bump into it.

Approaching her father’s room Elvira slowly opened the door, conveniently she saw him resting for once. Vampires rarely rest, unless in broad daylight. So she found it strange why he was “resting” tonight.

Elvira approached her father's bed, putting her stake where his heart should be. Just as she raised the hammer, Dietrich's eyes opened. Elvira's eyes widened too, before she could even blink her father quickly grabbed her neck. With such speed he shoved her against the wall, gasping for breath Elvira looked up at him.

“You foolish child. Haven't I taught you nothing?” Dietrich seethed through his teeth, holding onto her neck tighter.

Elvira gasped for breath feeling him holding onto her neck tighter, having no choice but to drop the stake. She chuckled faintly. “You've taught me many things…” She managed to say.

With her free hand she grabbed her silver necklace and pressed it against his cheek hard, Dietrich let out a hissing noise hos shape canine teeth showing.

“It's something about a young born Vampire, always arrogant.” Elvira spoke, she kicked the Candles that were standing on a small stand watching it fall, watching the fire catch contact with the furniture and it caught on fire.

“This ends now, I won't tolerate this any longer.” Elvira spoke, she used the chance to quickly exit the bedroom. Dietrich had a mark on his cheek due to the silver necklace, sneering his teeth he went after her.

Elvira knocked down most of the candles that were around to produce the fire even more, she covered her mouth as smoke began to form around her, coughing slightly accidentally inhaling the smoke.

At the staircase, Dietrich tackled and the two of them fell down the stairs. He quickly regained his balance while Elvira got up after him, a groan left her lips as she used her crossbow on him and shot him.

Dietrich quickly caught the arrow and broke it. “Useless. You were always useless.” He spoke, with his vampiric speed he tackled her to the ground. His fangs became visible.

“Transforming you will do you good, you'll know the true power of immortality.” He held her down so hee neck was exposed, and he bit down onto her neck.

Elvira groaned out loud in pain as she felt bits of her life force being taken from her, she had to think quickly. Managing to grab one of her stakes, it would only do minimal damage but she didn't care. She stabbed him in the back.

With Dietrich groaning in pain, Elvira pushed him away. She quickly got up and grabbed her crossbow once more, ignoring the blood running down her neck.

“I'm not scared of you anymore.” Elvira shouted back at him, she concentrated as Dietrich kept dodging every single attack she made. It became more difficult to see as the Estate began to burst up in flames, one of the pillars fell and Elvira quickly jumped and dodged it just in time.

Dietrich looked up and the pillar fell on him, pinning him down to the ground. She glanced over to Dietrich who was under the pillar, quickly going towards him she aimed her crossbow at his head.

“This is for killing the people I care for. My family!” Elvira struck the arrow in his eye, he was hissing and screaming in pain. She felt her heart beating faster. Leaving him trapped under the pillar, now she needed to find a way to escape.

With bits of wood falling down and blocking the main entrance, Elvira looked around. No doubt someone would've caught wind of smoke forming from their location, help would be coming soon. Elvira went over to the window, using her elbow to break the window. She quickly climbed out and ran away. Running down the dirt road to get away, in the distance she heard a group of horses.

Elvira caught her breath, and put her hands on her legs for a moment. She knew the Hunters would be approaching soon, all she had to do was wait. What didn't help was that she began to feel faint due to her father biting her neck. She fell down on the stairs and her eyes closed.

By the time the other hunters approached, they saw Elvira was unconscious and in danger. One of the men quickly picked her up, and put her on his horse. The man of men quickly fled back to the main building of the Hunters regime.

“She has a bite mark on her neck, though it doesn't look lethal enough for her to be turned.” The man spoke looking at his Captain.

“Good. When we get back, patch her up and when she wakes up I'll question her. All of those centuries of work, burning down to the ground mow.” The Captain spoke in a solemn tone, shaking his head.

One of the Hunters placed Elvira in a spare room, laying her body on the bed. Making sure she was comfortable enough, before leaving her to rest. Elvira's chest was rising up and down calmly, outside the window the moonlight shone. The same bat again, hanging above her window.

[themaskstayson]

"Arise now, ye Tarnished. Ye dead, who yet live. The call of long-lost grace speaks to us all." - Narrator (Elden Ring)

"The oath you awoke with is some faded instinct. What does it even stand for?" - Narrator (Baldur's Gate 3)

Decided to combine my two favorite things (Elden Ring and Baldur's Gate 3) and bring my current tarnished, Faith, to Faerûn.

Maybe I'll write some more silly stuff than just what is below.

It'll be pretty funny to have a tarnished so ready to unalive everything on sight to have party members telling them you gotta chill.

Faith: See, I told you everyone around us will want to kill us! She pulled a branch with poison on me!

Shadowheart: Okay... You got me there, but maybe telling everyone we have Mind Flayer tadpoles in our skulls is a bad idea.

Gale would have a blast learning about the Land Between.

Gale: You're telling me your people were banished from your world and this Golden Order you were fighting for?

Faith: Yup.

Gale: And then you were brought back to the Land Between, but the very order they exiled you, just to restore order by fighting countless of enemies without rest?

Faith: I mean... My plan was to burn it all down because I became maidenless again...

Lae'zel would enjoy the tales of all the battles the tarnished been through. Maybe not so much the dragons, but knowing you can learn dragon spells might appeal to her dragon girl heart.

Lae'zel: You would hunt these dragons and kill them?!

Faith: Yeah but then I can consume their hearts and use their power! Rot was very useful against Bloody Finger Invaders.

Oh man, for the tarnished to use their own spells instead of D&D would also be so much fun. Wyll talked about how he could do all these amazing things before he got nerfed and Faith would reminisce with him.

Faith: Ah, I remember when I was able to use the flame of frenzy... I wonder if I can get that back at some point and how effective it would be against your kind.

Wyll: What did that do?

Faith: Fire of madness would spur out of my eyes and kill the tarnish with ease. A heresy spell from the three fingers but... Those invaders were so annoying.

Wyll: That's terrifying...

Faith: You just told me about opening a gateway to the darkness between stars and anyone in it would suffer unknowable horrors...

Karlach and Astarion I'm not too sure what those interactions would be like.

Astarion would do this normal thing with Faith's I honestly don't see Faith to be okay with being fed upon but I don't think Astarion would be stupid enough to trust her to not kill him. He would hit on her and it would go over her head completely.

Faith would probably want to kill Karlach and someone else would need to step in and tell Faith and Wyll that they're idiots and Karlach is clearly a tiefling. Probably Shadowheart tbh.

Faith is from my coop game with friends. They're is a Confessor (thus the name lol) and basically I just wanted to do faith based spells with some sword and shield game play since my first tarnished was a pure intelligence mage. But I might lean more into the Confessor lore build for funsies since there are 4 of us playing at a given time. I guess Faith's pronouns are they/she depending on my mood.

It only seemed right to make them a paladin in BG3. Vengeance makes sense for a tarnished trying to bring back Golden Order and Oathbreaker if I decide to to the Lorrd of the Frenzied Flame ending.

They're also a dark urge cause blood thirst and amnesia.

I poured many hours into Elden Ring and barely knew the lore, but I think it'll be a fun crossover to think and maybe write about. And I'm getting too many ideas, gonna have to go full self-indulgent with this one... And take more photos lol

[rocksinmuffin]

Hello there, how are ya?

Can I request some good old sfw and nsfw headcanons for TFP Megs with a female human s/o who found him wounded in the woods, crash landing on earth after the events of predacon rising? He slowly seeks redemption and finds it with her. Can also be a scenario if you vibe with that more, I’m happy with anything! I just need more TFP Megs stuff of comfort ‘cause ngl, life’s a little tough rn and he’s just such a comfort character for me (why ever this evil, weird ass mf has wormed itself into my heart, idk, I couldn’t stop it) (It’s his voice and design and man those thighs and aft- god help me)

SFW

He doesn’t even want you near him at first. He’d crush you if he could. But he’s so weakened he can’t even charge his fusion cannon.

You take pity on his weakened, injured state and it’s the ultimate humiliation. How dare you. You are meat and bones and viscera; you are nothing compared to him. Keep your pity to yourself.

He can’t even stop you from your attempts to repair his body. He’s so weak he can’t even refuse help from the species he so despises and he hates himself for it.

Except, strangely enough, you’re competent in what you’re doing. You should have no knowledge of his physiology yet your primitive tools repair his broken body. It takes many days, maybe even weeks, and it’s nothing compared to what Knock Out could do, but he’s functioning.

He thinks about killing you. It would be so easy. And who could fault him? Would you blame the the lion for taking down the gazelle? Or the scorpion, for stinging the back of the frog? It’s in his nature. But he lets you live. He has little love for your species but perhaps it would not be unwise for him to have a few human allies.

It’s an excuse. The Decepticons are not what they were and now, Megatron has no place. Not welcome on Earth. Not welcome on Cybertron. The world forged him into a warrior out of necessity and now it has left him behind. There is no place for him.

You seem intent on trying to make him think otherwise. Do you even know who he is? What he has done? No. You wouldn’t have helped him if you did. You wouldn’t continue to worry over him if you knew.

He won’t volunteer his past to you. You don’t ask for it, either. When you have questions for him it’s mostly about his physiology; what makes him tick. Occasionally, what he thinks about some random Earth thing.

He doesn’t notice when he first begins to feel fond of you. It’s such a gradual thing. It creeps silent and unsuspecting until it makes a home deep inside his spark. He sees your smile and has the passing thought that he would kill to protect it. He tries not to linger on it.

He doesn’t know your feelings for him but he knows, at the very least, they must be positive for you to tolerate and even seek his company.

NSFW

Curiosity is what brings you two together. You want to know everything about how he functions and he wants to know everything about you.

It starts out innocent enough. Simply inquisitive and exploratory. His finger tracing along your scalp, feeling you press back into the touch and close your eyes in contentment, like you feel safe with him. Your hands tracing the smooth metal of his body, too small fingers tracing and digging into the seams where parts of his body fit together, brushing against sensitive wires that buzz with electricity at every touch.

His body starts running so hot it’s almost too much for your sensitive flesh. But you keep your flesh pressed to his metal even as he feels the whir of his cooling fans start up to deal with his overheating frame. He’s not sure if he is imagining the matching heat that burns in your eyes.

It’s not the first time he’s felt your hands on him but it’s the first time he’s craved it.

He can’t remember the last time he has felt this vulnerable, the last time he has allowed himself to be touched so gently. Not since before the war. Maybe even before the gladiatorial ring.

Your hand is pressed to his interface panel and it’s pure instinct that has him opening up to you, spike pressurized and valve soaking and desperate for that same gentle touch that has reverently brushed against his frame.

He’s a proud mech, but Megatron would beg for you if you made him.

You don’t make him wait. Your fingers eagerly dip into the warm wet heat that his valve offers as your cheek presses hot against the side of his spike where it rests.

He hopes you’re satisfied. After all, this is what you wanted. To learn everything about him, his physiology, what makes him tick.

Megatron hopes you are agreeable enough to let him know the same of you.

[edosianorchids901]

Fear Itself

Changing things up with A Study in Emerald for this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt

I was no stranger to fear. None who grew up in our world, a world ruled by incomprehensible creatures from below the Pit. Each child grew up on tales of the Queen of Albion, the Czar Unanswerable, the White Lady of the Antarctic Fastness, and all the others. Their hulking shapes had haunted my dreams all of my life.

And then I had gone to Afghanistan, to war, and had seen new horrors there. Injury and infection and illness had nearly put an end to me there. Fear followed me home to London, and by the time I allied with the Restorationists I thought I could endure any terror. 

So it was something of a shock to me when, as my new companion and I stalked the path of one of the Royals, my courage failed. I froze in place in the shadows of the alley, stricken by the sight of the creature skulking towards the madhouse. It was not merely the inhuman appearance, the seemingly countless limbs and eyes and bulk that overwhelmed me. It was…

Everything.

My companion paused, looking back at me. “Doctor?”

Even his quiet voice sent a new terror through me. What if that creature overheard us? Such creatures could be killed—I had not done it yet, but had studied their anatomy and understood how—but I could not bear the thought of doing so now. I shook my head.

I had half expected my companion to abandon me for the hunt. Despite our short acquaintance, I knew he was not a man prone to giving up on anything, especially when he had the scent of his quarry.

But he softened and took my arm, turning me away. “Come, Doctor. We shall retreat for now.”

Still dazed, I let him lead me back to our rooms. My breaths came short and shallow, and not just from the fatigue that had plagued me since my injuries. Panic was upon me, and I could not calm myself. My cheeks burned with the humiliation of falling apart so severely in front of my new friend.

But I quickly discovered that Sherlock Holmes, in addition to being the boldest of hunters, was also a very kind man. He led me to the more comfortable of our lumpy armchairs, helped me sit, and loosened my collar. Before long, a glass of brandy was pressed into my hand, and he sat beside me with his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“Drink up, my boy,” he said cheerfully. “And do not fear. No one saw us, nor pursued us.”

I did fear, but as I drank my brandy and sat beside my companion, I did settle. Still embarrassed, I sighed. “I am very sorry, Holmes. I let you down.”

“There is no cause for apologies, and you have let no one down. It is far better to withdraw if the fear strikes.”

I eyed him doubtfully. Holmes always spoke with utter mastery of whatever topic we had discussed thus far, but could he truly be so certain? “It is not better to push through?”

“Of course not,” he said, a little sharply. “You are a doctor. If a patient exhibits symptoms of a condition, would you not treat those symptoms rather than encourage denial?”

I gave him a look at this. Even in our brief acquaintance, I had already seen him push through injury and illness alike. “I would, but—”

“Fear is a sickness. That is indisputable,” Holmes said with his usual command. “But our world is sick, invaded by these parasites that would feast on our hope until there is nothing left. And in such a world, fear is a rational response.”

Confused, I frowned. “Is it sickness, or rational?”

“Both. Such is the world we live in, and I suspect it should be so even in other worlds. It can make one ill, but also serve as a symptom of true danger.”

“You believe we were in danger, then? Is that why I was afraid?”

He gave me a little sardonic smile and rubbed my shoulder. “You were afraid because our foes are inhuman monstrosities would would gladly devour us, mind and body. To confront them is to risk being undone completely.”

“And you think I would crumble?”

“I think you fear you may crumble,” Holmes said thoughtfully. “And that is a greater danger than their unnatural gaze. But I believe you are braver and stronger than you give yourself credit for. You will prevail, once you find your footing.”

I finished my drink and set it aside, then gave my bad leg a rueful look. “My footing is unsteady on the best of days, unfortunately.”

I had meant it as something of a joke, and he gave an almost completely silent laugh. The bright amusement upon his face moved me deeply, as if the clouds of gloom had drawn back to reveal the sun. “You are recovering yourself, my dear Doctor. I am glad.”

“I am as well.” The tightness on my chest had eased at last, and I could breathe again. “Damn it, I wish we could have gotten that beast! Next time, Holmes, I will not quail.”

“That is a much better mindset.” He took my trembling hand within his grasp, holding it tenderly. “But as I said, fear can be a symptom of true danger. You must not ignore it completely. To do so is just as perilous as standing frozen in the face of a threat.”

I nodded, soothed by the steadiness of his touch. It would perhaps take time for me to grow accustomed to this sort of war, so different than fighting against humans on the battlefield. But with Holmes beside me, I felt that anything might be possible.

[flightfoot]

Just finished "A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking" by T. Kingfisher. It's the one about a baker wizard who has a sourdough starter familiar that was mentioned on that one popular tumblr post, though honestly this one gingerbread man she made acts more like a familiar to her than Bob does.

Overall, I enjoyed it. I like how it showcased the ways people could make use of even fairly specific talents. A lot of wizards in this world could only really make one specific type of "thing" do what they want, whether it's bread (or really, anything created from dough) like Mona, or making dead horses walk, like Molly. So there's a lot of emphasis on working with what you can do, rather than worrying about what you can't, and not underestimating your abilities just because they seem silly and minor at first blush.

Anyway, basically, a dead girl's found in the bakery, Mona's called up to the palace as a suspect (she found the body), and is quickly found innocent and sent home. But over the next few days the magical folks in the city are all spooked, and there's efforts to make all mages register, and propaganda about how magical folks could be spies and traitors...

I don't want to go too much further into that so I don't spoil the rest of the story.

There's also this theme that crops up a lot during the second half of the book about "heroes", and how that term's often used to kind of make it okay that people had to suffer and die when, if other people had done their jobs properly, they wouldn't have had to. That it's great for Mona to have been able to accomplish what she did during this book, but that it shouldn't have been on a fourteen-year-old girl to begin with. I saw that sort of thing pop up a lot back in 2020 and 2021 with how nurses, doctors, and other essential staff were being hailed as "heroes" for working during such dangerous times, often with inadequate equipment, and then have it noted that afterwards, many of those same staff who were being hailed as heroes were still being underpaid.

There is one thing about the book that I really didn't like though. One of the main threats to the city Mona lives in is this group of mercenaries from some far away place, that apparently is cold and inhospitable. They got hired to help one city-state take out another, then decided they like these lands much better, and have just stuck around burning down fields, raiding and pillaging cities and taking all their stuff, and even eating people because apparently they're cannibals for some reason. At no point are they characterized as being more than some horrifically violent, evil, foreign mob who only exist to cause pain and suffering. Heck, even with their only job seemingly being fighting and killing, they're still characterized as selfish and unwilling to commit to battlefield tactics like overwhelming an enemy, when it would put the first few people at the front of the charge at risk, because they don't have the discipline of a regular army I guess.

I can see why it's useful to have some major threat like this, but whom you don't have to show any sympathy for or feel bad about being killed or injured, and who you don't have to try and have the leader negotiate with because they're so cruel and enjoy spreading pain and suffering so much, that there's no point. But the only reason it doesn't ping most people's "racism" radar is that their appearances are never described. But using this depiction of this group of people... honestly, it reminds me of "indigenous cannibals" and how that stereotype has been used in many movies, books, and tv shows to have the (white) protagonists be menaced by some group that's depicted as being ready to chop them up and eat them if caught, no questions asked. It's the same sort of narrative convenience being taken advantage of here, where you don't need to ask about negotiating or worry about the ethics of killing the invading army, because they're dehumanized to such an extent that you just don't worry about it.

[the-journey-was-the-point]

OC Questionnaire!

Thanks for the tag @merilles ! I enjoyed reading about Medwed, I find the part about her and battle particularly compelling! 🐻🍯

For these questions I decided to answer with Linnéa!

1. How does your OC present themselves to the world (i.e. their persona) and does it differ from what they are actually like? If so, who do they feel comfortable taking the “mask” off around and why did that “mask” develop in the first place?

I think most people would describe Linnéa as quiet and efficient. The people of Laketown see her as a skilled apothecary who does her job reliably.

She doesn't get close to most people so very rarely do people learn about her true heritage (she's half-elf) or find out just how cunning but also weary she is.

This definitely developed as a result of her too-long lifespan, exacerbated by how she physically doesn't resemble an immortal elf! She ends up a spy too with so much hidden agendas which doesn't really help ^^"

She lets her mask down around her friends and later her Ranger lover. I think also around either anyone who gets in her way or can actually help her XD (basically when it's relevant)

2. What is one thing they could change either about themselves or the past? Why would they make that change? How would that change affect who they are and the world around them in their current timeline?

I think she would have liked to be either a full Elf or full Man. Her mixed blood screwed her over since she's socialized human and perceives time as one, but has the lifespan of an Elf, and can't even convince others to help her sail West cus she doesn't have the pointed ears to prove her heritage.

3. Drawing from the language of flowers, what flower(s) would best symbolize them and why?

Not really the language of flowers but a description that stuck with me is that the castor plant is used for many medicines but "is more likely to kill you than cure you". I think it's accurate to her dual nature-- she's an apothecary capable of great good, but as a spy (and goal-oriented person with dubious morals), she also has the capacity to use those same skills to cause great harm.

----

3 questions to pass along!

1) Has your OC ever burned or otherwise destroyed something that reminded them of unhappy times or experiences in their past?  Was this part of an arranged event?  Or something they did spontaneously or in anger?

2) What is your character's preferred way of coping with stress or difficult situations?

3) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them! (whether other OC or canon)

And I'm tagging @lanthanum12 @acornsandoaktrees @vinyatar @angbands-last-hero @loremastering @elgaladwen ! I'm not sure if you've already been tagged but feel free to answer or ignore ^^"

[sangoqueenkoko]

I don't want realism; I want magic

angst

MAIN MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

.

Previous, Prologue | Part 1 | Next, Part 2

Synopsis: Being with Dottore for some time is enough to drive some insane. But what about living with him? Thick and thin. Sweet and sour. Love and hatred. Lust and chastity. It all burns passionately. Wrapped around each other's fingers.

Warnings? This is an experimental series. Also contains the mention of inner body parts, blood and gore.

this has been in my drafts since November 2023, ALHAITHAM FINALLYYYYYYYYYAAAAAA

Of all places you could be based in Teyvat, it had to be Shneznaya. The region is home to perpetual storms that may last for weeks, up to a month. It is said to best keep moving; otherwise, you would be frozen to the spot. The bitter feel of snowflakes, like needles falling onto your face with the force of the wind, felt the opposite of what snow traditionally symbolises.

Shneznaya is also home to some of the most bitter people in the whole world - The Harbingers.

Rumours say they are remorseless and do not care for what destruction they cause as long as it is for Her Majesty, The Tsarista. They bow down to her. They would do anything for her, and I mean anything, even if it were to spill the blood and guts of someone who saw or heard something they were not supposed to. She was their queen bee.

She was your queen bee. You had to do whatever she said.

This is also home to you, being a loyal follower and close subordinate of the Tsarista herself.

You could never disobey. Luckily, there has never been a time and never will be. But there has been a fair, or unfair, number of people who have disobeyed The Harbingers, or Celestial forbid, The Tsarista herself in the past. Some did not do as they were told, and some saw and heard things they should not have.

Sadly, you were the one who had to deal with this, from cleanups to even executions. You were used to it, so the stench and looks did not bother you as much as they used to when you witnessed such acts for the first time. You had a nickname for this, Konchina, or Demise.

Some people met their Demise. You.

While working in this… field, you became acquainted with a man who had seen just about the same amount of red as you.

The second most powerful of all Harbingers is Il Dottore, or as they call him these days, The Doctor.

When cleaning up after a 'minor' blood spill, cough, not a minor one, cough, or execution, you would often donate parts to him for the crazy experiments of his you forbid yourself from even thinking about.

But this being home to you also means that the secret-ish relationship with your lover, the madman that is Il Dottore, who is always close to home, can have its ups and downs.

Ups are when you get respected by other people, such as the other Harbingers, other members of the Fatui, and the common folk.

And downs… well, you sometimes have to deal with messy things — shady dealings, being the leader of missions, stakeouts, etc.

Oh. Also, killings, like executions, and their cleanups. Well, that's your team's job.

Yeah…

ahem

And the aftermath of those deaths, the organs and flesh, go to your beloved so that he has more things to experiment on and make something… ungodly. Who is, surprisingly, very loyal to you despite his usual behaviour.

You only didn't bring the remains in hand; you had your associates bring them in. The door opens, and you feel a chill escape the room. Your hair blows lightly out of your face, yet your face is left unwaveringly deadpanned. Walking in, you saw countless pieces of equipment: testing tubes and more giant tube-like tanks where bodies would float and be spectated upon. The room was bitter, as usual. Part of it resembled a morgue, where the dead lay, cold, emotionless. Just like the body parts your associates place on the medical surfaces nearby before leaving.

And just like the man that was standing in front of you.

"Ah, my dear (Y/N)," Dottore smiled grimly, his coat strewn upon somewhere in the room, the sleeves on his shirt rolled up halfway, yet he still had his gloves on. They were clean, despite what work he had been doing. He took the gloves off before one of his hands reached out to hold yours, his were slightly rough, the cause that was the dirty work. He lifted your hand and gently pressed his lips against the back of it. Soft and well taken care of. Despite your work, too, "I am glad you're back in one piece."

"I am back in one piece, however, for some.." you said calmly in a monotone-like voice as your head tilted to the side, indicating the masses of body parts in the corner of the room, "not so much."

"Mmm… delightful."

He sent shivers down your spine in a good way. That made you happy.

But what doesn't make you happy is that most nights when Dottore is in his lab, busy working, you are alone in your shared chambers. You sometimes wake in the middle of the night to him walking into your room. Bear in mind that the time could be 4 a.m. or later. Neither of you worried about someone finding out about this secret relationship because there are strict rules that you aren't allowed to enter another person's chambers without their permission.

On rare occasions, there can be days filled with heat when there is rarely any space between you. You couldn't get enough of each other.

But most times, it felt rather lonely, despite being immersed in the books you would read before you eventually fell asleep.

Sometimes, even when Zandik is in the room, you can still feel quite lonely, but he's always busy. You occasionally talk to him by asking a question or two, but you either get a hum in response or "Hm, can't you see I'm in the middle of something important?"

He loves you; he really does, but you happened to ask him a question at the wrong time, as in the moment of his peak concentration. And that could happen multiple times on accident.

Accident.

You never mean to, and he knows that, but it just can't help but happen.

But it's happened so many times now that it is clear that it upsets him. The first time you did it, he let out a quiet but heavy sigh that showed his light frustrations. But other times, he got increasingly unhappy with how you walked into the lab when he was deep in concentration, sometimes accidentally messing up some results, like changing room temperatures by opening the door or making him jump with your sudden appearance, shattering his train of thought. But you know he doesn't like being disturbed by anyone when he's working, which means you too, so you always try your best to enter the room as quietly and carefully as possible, but… it just doesn't work. He has an extra sense of always knowing where you are. So he will know if you are near the lab and have no intention of going in.

But that isn't fair to you. You never know when it would be a good time to visit him. Good times to visit him are when he isn't busy, which can be rare, or when you deliver your latest prey.

He knows you are unhappy with how often you see or don't see him, so he profusely apologises. He wants to change something somehow but can't, no matter how much he tries.

But work comes first in his eyes.

But once you walked into the lab, it was colder than usual; the usually vague smell of chemicals was more pungent than before, so you felt it pinch inside your nose.

He was in a nasty mood today, colder and bitterer, despite you not knowing about it because you hadn't been home for most of the day due to work.

And in a matter of a minute, it was like a bomb went off.

Silence.

Not even a second later, things were thrown places. Beakers were thrown at the walls and floor, immediately stained from whatever concoction was inside. Shards flew everywhere, towards you and in every other direction. In frustration, he screamed at the top of his lungs, slamming his hands onto the table before him. Ripping pages out of the book in which he wrote his results. All that was carefully observed was suddenly torn away, nullified, and thrown to the ground.

Neither of you noticed, but shards flew everywhere, even at you, when he threw one of the beakers to the ground with such force. A small piece even cut the lower part of your cheek.

Just a little nick. You didn't feel its pinch because it instantly dumbed from the sudden emotion that overcame you when you saw your cold-hearted lover become even colder. Your perfectly fine skin that he loved was now faulted due to his destructive actions.

You were still frozen. You do not show much emotion despite how you feel on the inside; your career trained you to control your emotions depending on what is going on in front of you. But your control faltered a little because you began to shake out of fear, and a few stray tears fell. There was only so much you could handle.

He hated seeing you upset; if someone made you upset or hurt you, he would deal with them himself, even if you were fully capable of doing it yourself. He would soon have a new test subject.

But today, he reached his last straw.

And he finally cracked.

The vial containing all of his unwavering anger would quickly break. Forever staining its surroundings.

taglist: @jqnehr (come back to me, this is for you) • @rain-soaked-sun • @mmeatt •

please fill out the Google form on the series masterlist if you want to be added! :3

[igotanidea]

Workaholic insomniacs : Matt Murdock x reader

request by @pinksirensong: 132 from the "Choose for me - prompt list" with Matt Murdock

132 was "I haven't slept in four days." It did not indicate which one of them :D

***

I think I might be dying. I am tired to the point where I can’t even close my eyes and get some rest, my mind is racing and I’m suffering with too much thoughts causing my head to drift dangerously to the brink of explosion.  Life and job has been too much lately. Of course I knew getting a job in Hell’s kitchen would be … well, literal hell. Sure, I was aware that being a detective who loves one’s job is not exactly a piece of cake. I suppose I just did not see this much coming on me.

At this point, as we run an investigation I work almost 24/7. I haven’t slept in four daysand it slowly starting to show. The fact that someone constantly wants something from me so I can’t finish anything does not help. It’s nearly midnight and my team is still burning the midnight oil, our effectiveness inversely proportional to the efforts. Seems like the more we try the less we get. Did I mention my head hurts?

“I need air” I mutter to the operation chef, agent Nadeem “just five minutes of it”

“Go, agent. Take a break, we all could use it” he mutters

“Was that an irony, Nadeem?”

“Sorry. I guess I became a bit grumpy because of this case”

“Yeah, didn’t we all. I’ll be right back I promise and then you can go get some distance.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so” he shook his head “you know me, not going anywhere until I’m done.”

“I know, but your wife will kill me If I let you keep tormenting yourself this way. So no sir, you are next in turn.”

“Women” she rolls eyes.

“You men would be truly lost without us” I smirk and walk out the room with cameras tracing my every step. Being the only girl on the team can be hard sometimes. They have tendencies to undermine your skills and abilities, treat you like a porcelain doll even if you would take down most of them and sometimes make some inappropriate jokes. Good thing our supervisor is a woman. That make them halt a bit. Oh, and I am extremely good agent. Otherwise, I would not be put on this case at all. Besides, there are also benefits. You get your own room while they camp together, you can eat as much food as you want without being judged and you get to understand how the brain of a man works. Or at least get a closer look. I mean, all of this agents are my friends, and even if we banter and fight sometimes we would give life for each other. Especially agent Dex, the sniper, the first one on the defense line. He actually saved my life once and that is kind of debt I could never fully repay. Lately he has been acting strange but I won’t interfere with whatever business he has going on. If he want to talk, he knows where to find me.

Because of all the security and buffers It takes almost fifteen minutes to get out of the building, each second longer than the previous one. The latest rate of suicide victims had raised significantly and therefore the access to windows on the highest floors are limited. Unfortunately, FBI are always located high. Ironically the key figures claim it’s for security. Waving my pass in front of the bouncer’s eyes I finally reach the revolving door and leave the dirty and suffocating space behind me.

The cold, autumn air of hell’s kitchen instantly make me clench the coat tighter around my shoulders and I shiver a bit. I love my city, seemingly empty at this hour, but under the surface still pulsing with life. Driving cars and sounds of carriages, few people walking the streets and occasional shutting makes it all so real. It’s good to come down on earth and sense the surroundings after hours and hours of keeping your head in the documents. Yes, the world is full of violence, unfairness and all those negativity that comes from being human. On the other side, however you can always get hope upon looking at the rising sun or listening to the wind rustling in the wind.

I wasn’t always like that. I use to march through the world like it was a war zone. Straight from point A to point B. Absolutely focused on saving time and getting all my tasks done. Surrounding? Ain’t nobody got time for that. I was an agent and we don’t really have time to devour the singing birds or other stuff like that.

It changed when I met a man, who has all his senses, except one, sharpened like a new-bought pencil. He made me stop and wonder about the sounds, the smells, the feelings. It was something utterly new, like opening eyes to the world after a long dreamless sleep. And it ended up with me in a hospital, seriously hurt during field operation because I got distracted. Yes, Matt Murdock had and still has a lot of negative impact on my life. And our relationship is complicated and damaged in hundreds different ways, but we just can’t be without each other.

“Agent”

“No.” I turn around and spot a red-dressed silhouette in a dark alley. “No!” I repeat firmly shaking my head.

“You don’t even….”

“I’m not giving you anything, Devil”

“Oh, come on, please” he pleads with this tone that in other circumstances would make me give up just because of a single word and give him anything.... Stop! Stop! You are at work, get yourself together, dirty thoughts aside. “I need some information.”

“Those are strictly confidential and you know it. I don’t need any trouble besides those I already have” I pointed at him angrily.

“Come on honey, you know I can figure it out faster than the FBI. Just give me something to work with.”

“No.” I stand my ground “Drop it, Matt”

“Shh!” with one firm move he grabs my hand and pull me into the dark alley where no one could see us, his hand on my mouth “do you want to compromise my identity, sweetie?”

“You are a threat to yourself, so I don’t think there’s much I can do to make it worse” I mutter trying to yank free of his hold and failing spectacularly.

“Honey….” He mutters nuzzling my cheek “why can’t we get over with this. You know, because of this I haven’t slept in four days.”

“Well I know the feeling.”

“Wouldn’t it be lovely to spend some time together after closing the matter?” he pulls me closer

“Careful Murdock, I got a gun”

“Well, I got batons”

“You can’t win this conversation with me”

“Well, shall we try? I’m a lawyer.”

“Oh, well, I am a woman so don’t even try!”

“Karen would….”

“Oh, low blow! Now we’re done here.”

“Why?” he slightly moves back pouting,                                                                                                                                                                                                                             

“Karen, seriously? You know how I feel about you getting a civilian involved.”

“So it’s not about us anymore?”

“Look, you dumbass of a vigilante” I sigh “You have masochistic tendencies. And it’s fine. I’m used to it as long as you are doing it on your own responsibility. But I’m not going to help you with getting yourself hurt, all right? My conscience would not take it.”

“But….”

“No buts, Matt. Drop it.”

“Is than a command, agent?” his voice becomes dark and serous under this mask of his and this leaves me no choice.

“Yes, it’s a command” I pierce him with the coldest gaze I can produce on my face and even if he can’t see it, I know he felt the ice in my whole posture.

“Well, too bad I don’t listen to those. And you know you can’t do this without me!” he turns around and jump on the nearest set of stair disappearing into the night. Damn him!

***

“did you come up with something substantial on your visit to the outside world?” Nadeem asks seeing me back, coattails running loose, hands in pockets uncharacteristically angry “What happened?”

“Nothing” I snap but his admonitory gaze put me back in my place “sorry. Just some relationship trouble”

“Oh, I can surely relate to that.”

“I know, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry.  But, on the bright side I actually think I  may have an idea and a trail that is worth checking.”

“Do tell” Nadeem fixes his gaze on me in anticipation for any detail that can help the team and for the first time I notice the tiredness and weariness on his face alongside with a few grey hair in his dark shag.

“You know, there was this little thing in the files. A symbol” I flick through the documents “here it is, see” I point to the almost invisible pictogram of a blue spade on the building in the background of the photo. “I know where I saw it.”

***

“FBI! Everyone on the ground!” the force team kick the door down and barge into the mansion with me and Nadeem close on their feet. I guess I was right since we have four of our suspects lying on the floor with their hands handcuffed. Mission completed.

“Good job, agent” Nadeem puts a hand on my shoulder as a token of congratulations “I bet this would get attention from the high level. Maybe you would get an investigation on your own.”

“Nah. I would decline that. You and I we make a good team, agent Nadeem, don’t you think.”

“You are a pain in my ass.” He smirks and in his case use of such words means he feels we do work well together.

“I’ve heard that many times before and I’m still here”

“Let’s head back. We have some interrogation to do. This is not over yet.”

“I’m more than happy to do so. And we were so lucky to get here first” I say to no one in particular.

“What do you mean?” Nadeem frowns at me

“Oh, no, nothing. It’s just… lately TV has been claiming that FBI and police are inept and Devil of Hell’s kitchen does all the job. Guess they were wrong.” I meanly stress out the last word noticing a single streak of red sneaking behind me.

***

“Did you have fun?” when I get back to my apartment Matt is already there

“By proving you wrong? By winning the race with the daredevil?” I tap my chin in consideration “Yes!” I grin in satisfaction “So much of it! And rumor has it I’m up for promotion”

“Good thing the Devil decided to left the matter in your hands”

“It is, right? A lot of luck. Or maybe rather a lot of competence and observational skills. Not to mention intelligence and fast thinking.”

“Well thank you” he chuckles

“I’m sorry Matt, but I was talking to my reflection in the mirror. Did not see you in there.”

“Talk about a low blow” he hiss in pain.

“where?” I move towards the couch perching on the edge

“Nowhere” he tries to move away but wince again.

“Matt,….”

“I’m sorry” he sighs closing his eyes “I should have never doubted you”

“You shouldn’t have” I agree “but it’s a habit, right? You do it every time you are on your vigilant shit.”

“I’m sorry”

“No, you know what it’s fine.” He looks at my direction a bit confused “you weren’t Matt., then. You were Daredevil. And I was not your girlfriend. I was an FBI agent. Two different lives, four different person.”

“Do you have any mental problems I should now about.”

“See, that was Matt.” I smile “what I mean is that in our… other life we are supposed to be enemies. After all you steal my job and I hate that. But all this spiting and fighting and teasing while we are both in suits are good. We get better don’t you think? Trying to prove something.”

“As twisted as that is you may be a bit right.”

“Well I mean I get better, you seem awfully savaged, more than usual. Losing your proficiency?”

“Is it an agent talking or my girl?”

“Your girl” I smile and he grabs my hand kissing my knuckles gently.

“Well, like I said before I haven’t slept in four days and that’s an effect.” I stay silent waiting for him to continue and after a while the words come “can you stay with me? I need you close to me.”

“Sure I can” I snuggle next to him, forgetting about the job, the stress and the fight some agent has with some vigilante. We’ll deal with that in the morning, now it’s just boyfriend and girlfriend making themselves cozy in a shared bed.

[angel-eyes05]

i remember his hands - chapter 2

PAIRING: kang the conqueror x fem!reader

SUMMARY: after a scientific experiment goes horribly wrong, you've been transported to the quantum realm and have been stuck there for the past decade. with no company, aside from janet van dyne, your life changes forever when a mysterious man in a golden ship crash lands next to your settlement. startled with his initial presence, you two have a rocky start. but as time goes on, you two find each other slowly drawn to one another. you have secrets though, and he has a past he refuses to bring up. can you two make it through navigating an unknown world together, discovering any ulterior motives, and stand the test of time in a place where time has no meaning at all?

INFO: slow romantic burn, pretty fast sexual burn, kinda enemies to lovers????, takes place during that little flashback janet has during quantumania, idk how accurate this is gonna be to canon stuff cause i get very confused about the quantum realm lol, reader is in mid to late 20s while kang is in his “early 30s” (ik he like technically doesn't age or whatever idk the lore but i just made it accurate to jonathan majors age and wanted to give an accurate age range/gap/count), y/n will be very fleshed out like i'm gonna give her everything lol

WARNING: bl00d mention, explicit language (both swearing and ig sexually)

CHAPTER WORD COUNT: 2.9k

NOTES: i just now realized the summary said y/k this whole time instead of y/n, i knew something looked off lmao 😭 just ignore that lol. also if you guys want me to make a taglist, just lmk in the comments and if you want me to tag you or not

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To your surprise, you opened your eyes to find yourself alive in your bed. Your head throbbed in a sharp, piercing pain. You looked into the mirror that sat in front of your bed to examine your facial injuries. You had a bandage wrapped around the right side of your head. As you went to touch the place where the rock was smashed into, you winced from the pain as it shot into your head. It wasn’t as deep of an injury as you thought it would be, but it wasn’t doing you much good either. You also noticed a bruise on your left upper cheekbone, very quickly growing into a black eye. You assumed it was from when the man tackled you into the creek. You moved down to your throat area to find two dark purple bruises on the front side of your neck. Other than those injuries and a couple of scratches on your arms and knees, you figured you were in better shape than your attacker. You wondered what ended up happening to him. If you were here alive, it meant he probably survived too. Left out there, he was probably finished off by roaming mites. Either way, it wasn’t your problem anymore.

You hear a knock at the door. “Come in”, you struggle to get out, a spiky pain going down your throat after you the words escape your mouth. Janet opens the door and walks over to your bed with a glass of water and some more bandages. “Yeah that sounds as bad as I thought it would be. Whoever caused those neck bruises was really trying to kill you”, she replied, sitting down next to you on the edge of the bed. “Really? I thought the bloody dent in my head would be more of a giveaway”, you sarcastically reply in pain. You got a small chuckle out of her. “Even a near death experience couldn’t take away your wonderful sense of humor”, she jokingly replied. You smiled at her remark. Janet went to unravel the bandage on your head. You grimaced as she tried to rip off the parts that were dried on by the blood. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine”, she said after noticing the expression on your face. “You’re a tough girl. One of the strongest people I’ve met.” A slight smile crept onto your face. She dipped a cloth into the bowl of water, then started to dab it onto the wound. As much as the process of getting to it sucked, you enjoyed moments like these with Janet. You know, even though finding you out there bleeding out from your head probably almost scared her to death, that she enjoyed them too. You took a sip of water from the glass she gave you, which improved your throat pain significantly. Once she finished cleaning your head, she wrapped another bandage around the wound. “Alright, I’m fixing up some breakfast for you in the kitchen. If you need anything, just ring this.” She placed a little bell on your nightstand as she gathered her stuff to leave.

After failed attempts to fall back asleep, you decided to head out to the kitchen to help Janet. You gently placed your legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. You slightly limped over to the mirror to assess yourself again. Your head looked slightly better with the change in bandages, but the bruise on your cheekbone had now fully turned into a black eye. You winced as you placed your fingers on the swollen area around the bone. The bruises on your neck had stayed about the same size as the last time you saw them. You rolled up your pant legs to find two bandaged gashes on your right knee, most likely from the tackle as well. You slowly turned and hobbled towards the door to walk into the kitchen. You made your way across the hallway of the cabin into the kitchen and living room (it was more of just a little kitchenette with a couch in it). You rubbed your eyes to adjust to the fluorescent lighting of the room. As you opened your eyes again, you could hardly believe what you saw going on by the couch.

Janet was kneeling on the floor next to couch, tending to the same man who tried to kill you. She was cleaning up a cut he had on his left tricep, as he laid there shirtless on the couch. Your heart sunk as your eyes laid on him. He was still unconscious, but the thought of your attempted killer being in the the same house as you made you nauseous with fear. “Janet!” you whisper yelled at her, half from the fear of waking him up and half from the pain still in your throat. She didn’t turn around. You yelled again. She rolled her eyes as she finished changing the bandage and walked over to you. “What is he doing here?” you asked like she was insane. “I couldn’t just leave him there to become mite food y/n”, she truthfully replied. “Uh, yes. Yes, you very well could have. You are aware of the fact that he almost killed me, right?” you asked, still concerned the situation wasn’t getting through to her. “Yes I am, and that’s exactly why I brought him here.” All you could do in response to hearing her say that was nervously laugh. “Listen to me y/n, I’ve been here for much longer than you have. So I know for a fact that when people arrive here, it’s either from some extremely fucked up accident, or for a very important purpose. I believe he’s here due to the latter. We need to keep him alive to find out that purpose, alright?” she snapped at you. You hadn’t seen this side of her much, so whenever you did, you knew she meant it. You nodded in response. “Alright” she said as she took a deep breath “Now help me with breakfast.”

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He could see the bright white lights seeping in from his eyelids as he slowly opened his eyes. As he regained consciousness, he immediately felt shooting pains in his shoulder, abdomen, and foot. His groaning caught Janet’s attention as she walked over to where he was with damp cloth. He tried to move back slightly, but if he moved any more, the pain would get worse or he would probably fall off the couch, which was definitely too small for him to lay horizontally on it. Janet looked at him for a consenting look before taking the cloth to the right of his abdomen. He hesitantly nodded. He groaned through the stinging pain of the water mixing with the bloody wound. “I’m surprised you were still alive by the time I got you inside. This one right here should’ve had you dead within the first three minutes of getting bit” Janet said to break the silence. “W…Where am I?” he asked tiredly. “My cabin. I’ll tell you the rest of it when you’re awake enough to pay attention to what I’m telling you.” Janet placed her hands on his back once she noticed he was trying to sit up. He cried out in pain through his teeth as he tried to sit normally. “Woah, woah, woah, I don’t think you’re ready for that yet”, Janet said concerned. “No time”, he said between short breaths. “Need to get back to the sh-.”

He cut himself off when he saw you standing by the kitchen counter, your back to him and you head lowered. He kept his eyes on you for a bit and examined your frame, trying to understand how someone as small as you could reduce him to this. You could feel his eyes on you, like a laser burning into your back. The longer the moment went on, the more you wanted to take the knife nearest to you and finish the job you started. After what felt like hours, he finally turned his face back to Janet. Being able to tell what he was going to say next, she said “She lives here with me. And before you ask, no she isn’t going anywhere. And until you fully heal, you aren’t leaving either.” Janet turned to face both of you. “And until that time happens, I need you two to try to not kill each other. Alright?” You reluctantly nodded your head. He did the same. “Ok good.” Janet finished with his abdomen wound and walked over to you in the kitchen. “I’m going into town for a bit to get some more medical supplies, so I’m going to need you to finish with his shoulder and foot” she told you, already noticing the horrified look creeping onto your face. Your heart sunk and your eyes widened hearing her say that. “Janet, no, there’s no way. You leave me here alone and there is no doubt he’ll kill me” you whispered quite enough so he wouldn’t hear. Janet pulled you outside with her to talk. “Listen, I know you don’t trust him and I don’t entirely either, but have you seen him? It would take a miracle for him to get up right now and charge at you again. Plus, I need you to try to get information on him while I’m gone, ok?” You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Ok.” “Thank you.” Janet gave you a little peck on your forehead. “I’ll be back soon.” She started walking off into the distance. With Janet’s good luck kiss, you turned to the door to walk inside. As you went to turn the doorknob, you noticed your hand slightly shaking. You took one last deep breath to calm yourself before walking inside.

You walked inside, determined not to make eye contact with him the entire time. Once you got to the kitchen counter, you could already feel his eyes on you again. You could’ve sworn he had some kind of laser eye power, because you could feel yourself getting hotter with each passing second. It was almost paralyzing how it made you feel. “Could you stop that please?” you finally said, hoarsely. You heard a slight chuckle from him. “Sounds like I did a number on you after all. Not good enough though, since you’re still walking” he replied in a rich, slightly menacing tone. It was enough to send a slight shiver down your spine. You could hardly believe Janet trusted him enough to not kill you. You took yet another deep breath, and grabbed the bowl of water, a sewing needle and thread, a roll of bandages, and a damp cloth. You still avoided eye contact, but out of your peripherals, you could see he was still staring at you. What you couldn’t tell though, was if he was slightly smirking or not. 

You placed the bowl down on the ground and you sat right in front of his foot. You reached to unravel the bandage wrapping his left foot, but he moved it away. You sighed. You knew exactly what he was doing. Giving in to what he wanted, you finally make eye contact with him. His eyes were just as sharp and full of anger as they were when he first punched you in the chest. “Please don’t move. This will be easier for both of us if you stay still”, you say to break the tension. You go back to his foot to unwrap it, but he moves it yet again. You huffed to yourself and turned back to him. “Listen, I know you’re upset with me over the arrow, and I’m sorry. My intention wasn’t to hit you. But I have every right to be mad at you as well. Now I know you don’t want me here, but I hate to break it to you, you’re stuck with me until Janet gets back. Now can you please hold your foot in place so I can take off this god damn bandage!” you yelled as loud as your injured throat let you. You must have turned red or something because you noticed a smirk slightly tug on his lips. He moved his foot in front of you. “Thank you”, you remark, turning away from him again. 

You unravel the bandage to find Janet already stitched up the wound on his foot. That made things easier for you at least. You took the damp towel and dabbed it on the wound. You couldn’t believe you were here, cleaning the wounds of the same man who just tried to kill you. Apparently he couldn’t believe it either, since his eyes were still locked onto you. You finished applying the water and wrapped his foot back up. You moved over to his shoulder next. You were much closer to him now, forcing you to have to take looks at him. It was the same expression every time though. Anger, mixed with annoyance, mixed with a hint of fascination. You unraveled this bandage. This was the one Janet hadn’t gotten to yet. You figured this would give you a chance to redeem yourself though, fixing up the wound you gave him. You kneeled in front of his shoulder with the threaded needle and stuck it into the wound. As soon as you put it in, the man clenched his teeth and groaned in pain. He wiped his face with his hands in anguish. 

You pulled the needle through the skin, and at some point you must have hit a specific spot, because his hand shot down and took hold of your thigh to hold as leverage. Butterflies flooded into your stomach as he squeezed your thigh with every pull of the needle and thread. You looked down and took notice of his hand once again. Noticing how big it was, how tense it would get, and whether he did it with intention or not, how he would occasionally trace his thumb across you clothed skin. Once previously around your throat, now seizing your thigh and tightening its grip with every movement of the needle. You felt your cheeks getting brighter with each tighten. Part of you thought he was doing this to fuck with you, but the looks you saw on his face proved you otherwise. 

Being this close allowed you to take notice of all his facial features now. From his plump lips, to the two identical scars running down his face. You knew they had to have some sort of story behind them, but you decided to ask another time. You were unable to reach a certain spot on the inner part of his shoulder, so you sat up slightly to move more into him to reach it. This is when it hit you how close you two were. Feeling his hot breaths on your cheek, hearing his slight moans and groans of pain, and now with the movement of his hand from on top of your thigh to your sensitive inner thigh. You were embarrassed to admit the combination of everything made you slightly wet. You had to use your spare hand to push two pieces of his skin together that were too far apart for the needle to get in naturally. As you pushed, he moved his right hand to grab yours. Now that it was touching your bare skin, you could fully appreciate the feel of his skin on yours. You felt how rough it was as the calluses on his hands slightly scratched against your knuckles. 

You finished up and closed the wound and started dabbing it with the damp towel with the same hand that was holding the needle. He still hadn’t moved either of his hands, his moans and groans now turned into short pants. You sat there for a second, embarrassed with how comfortable you suddenly were with him. Part of that embarrassment also went towards how wet his hand being on your upper inner thigh made you. “Are you ok?” you asked, having to say something in fear of what you would do if you just stayed like this. He nodded slightly. He opened his eyes after having them shut from the pain and looked into yours again. Only this time, they weren’t filled with anger. You couldn’t tell what look this one was. Maybe weakness from his pain. Maybe wonder. Maybe…. After clearing his throat, he finally took his hand off of yours. Then, almost as if he were teasing you at this point, he dragged his hand off your inner thigh agonizingly slow, finger by finger. Cheeks flushed and stifling the noise you felt building up in your throat, you grabbed your materials and moved them over to the kitchen counter and made your way back to your room without saying another word. “Wait”, you heard him call out. You popped your head out from behind the hallway corner and stood there waiting for what he was going to say.

“What’s your name” he asked softly.

“Y/N” you hesitantly answered.

“...I’m sorry for earlier y/n.”

“I’m sorry too…” you signaled to him for his name.

“Kang.”

“I hope you heal well, Kang.”

“You too.”

You walked back over to your room, using whatever self control you had to stifle any feeling that might have been awoken in those moments.

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NEXT PART

A/N: dude i dont think you understand how much i enjoyed writing that HJFHJF. there will be more to come soon dw. but i hope you enjoyed this chapter (this took up 9 google doc pages lmao) since shit actually happened lmao. as regarding whenever chapter 3 comes out, it might take a little while since the ideas for the preview-chapter 2 came to me super quick, im still thinking about what direction chapter 3 will take. It shouldn’t take any longer than a week, but please just be patient. thank you for reading!