#see i said 'most of' with just ashe and reaper in mind but like. this how he felt bout moira too aint it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dreaminggoblin · 7 months

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Wolventraum - Chapter 2

The entry cut off, but the stains ink and blood told me what the writer couldn't. That gave me a good idea of when exactly the city was attacked. It took some careful poking and pulling to get the bloodstained pages to part without tearing, but I didn't get much of a chance to read the entries from the beginning. Those weren't important, anyway. What was important was that there had been a few days between the initial attack and the fall of the city. From the nearest town, it took less than a day on a good horse to get here, and we had some Hunters in most towns across the kingdom. I racked my brain, but couldn't for the life of me remember who had last been stationed in the capital.

Heavy steps broke debris behind me, intentionally loud, and a familiar, cheerful voice called out, “When was the last time I saw you with a book? Years ago? Must have been years ago.”

I stuffed the bloodied diary into my bag and turned to glare at the woman who'd dared to interrupt my reading time. The letter tucked between the pages got crumpled in a corner. “What’s it to you?”

She frowned. Deep lines appeared in her dark face. Lucie, my oldest friend in this line of work. “Last thrall hit you in the head?”

“Have you seen my face?” I gestured wildly at my cheek, where a thin line of blood trickled out from under some scabbing. It wasn't healing as quickly as I wanted it to.

Lucie laughed. “Glad you don’t have to?”

“Good to see you, too,” I said, and finally stood up to give her a tight hug.

She squeezed me until I felt my ribs complaining, then spun around, arms wide, taking in the destruction I had gotten used to. I followed her around the piles of rubble and ash, watching for anyone who'd dare to approach two monster Hunters with their weapons clearly in sight. Had it been dark, monsters might have made that mistake.

I had been in the capital for almost two weeks now, and the situation was still dire. There were still thralls about, enslaved by the vampires who had made them. They stopped attacking civilians after the initial rush into the city, but if anyone got too close to their hiding spots, they still made a meal of them, even though they needed no sustenance unless they were injured. Other corpse-eaters, too, ghouls and weaker demons.

“It’ll be dark soon,” I said.

“Yeah.” She turned to me. “Hey, Reaper, you got a hole to hide in? I don't want to freeze to death tonight.”

I pointed to the house I'd spent the last few days in. “Basement’s clean in that one. Easy defence, too. Not really warm, though.” I didn't mention the bloodstains in the hallways upstairs. Lucie probably expected those, they usually came with the territory. Just usually not this bad. Or in this many houses. Mindless though thralls were, they attacked with such ferocity that it left a horrid mess. And if anyone fought back, it always ended up even worse. What they'd lost in wits, they made up for with brute strength.

Lucie skipped ahead of me to the house, then turned around at the door. “Mind if I crash? I haven't had a roof over me in a while.”

“Do you even need to ask? Couch’s mine, though, it was a pain to drag down there.”

She pouted. “Keeping all the best stuff to yourself? Fine, I’ll be generous this time.”

I laughed. “Because of my face?”

“It’s still not healed properly,” she said, with that unmistakable line of worry on her forehead. “Gotta at least sleep well. Have you slept at all lately?”

“Not as much as I need to.” I demonstratively yawned as I shoved my hands into my coat pockets and sauntered past her to the staircase that lead to the basement. “No one there to keep an eye out. Not like the thralls are super active right now, but carnage like this draws other attention.”

“You don't have to tell me that. I almost got jumped by a ghoul on my way here last night.” Ghouls, the plague of every overcrowded cemetery and battlefield, had been the first scavengers to follow in the thralls' wake. There weren't many, and though they usually contented themselves with eating corpses, they weren't easy to fight.

“Have they decided that debate yet?” I asked.

Lucie stopped at the top of the stairs. “Whether ghouls are demons or undead? Nope, still going.”

I suddenly heard Lucie’s light steps everywhere around me, then leaving the cover of the building.

“Don’t overdo it,” I said, glancing over my shoulder to see a shimmering copy of her dip around a corner. “What’s left of the capital isn’t exactly fond of us.” And that was putting it mildly. They blamed us for everything from not saving their lives to the bad weather yesterday. But at least they followed our instructions on how to deal with the dead thralls. The sunlight helped, but there was so little of it in winter that it didn't have the desired effect. In summer, cleaning this city out wouldn't take anywhere near as long. “Don’t make it worse.”

She walked down the stairs with me.“We’re keeping them alive, though.”

I shrugged. “We were too late, in their eyes. Whatever we can do isn't gonna be worth much if half the city’s dead or being eaten.”

“Why, aren’t you just a ray of sunshine.” I heard the grin in her voice, and then felt a small gust of air. I turned around to see her illusionary copies morph back into her and disappear in a small shower of dancing lights.

“Show-off,” I said. She stuck her tongue out at me.

Once we had settled down in my little basement hideout, I got Lucie caught up on what I’d learned about the city and its fate since my arrival. Best way to start the new year was with the dawn of an apocalypse, apparently, but I had my suspicions about the root of the problem. Vampires were usually the root of the problem in cities, after all. They brought the destruction, and everything else came to eat the leftovers.

“Thralls aplenty,” Lucie summarised, “but their creators are keeping hidden, as usual. And ghouls coming in, probably a bunch of vengeful echoes in the near future. But no werewolves. Yet.” She shuddered at the thought of werewolves getting involved in this, unlikely as it was. “But still, the pattern of the attack...”

I reached out to pat her shoulder, then thought better of it. “Still scared of them? You can at least talk to them half the time.”

She frowned. “Yeah. You can talk to vampires, too, if you kill all the thralls on the way in.”

“And get past the traps alive.” I leaned back in my couch. “I’m glad you’re here, Lucie.”

She smiled. The scar above her lip stood out as she did. “Glad I found you in one piece. Want me to fix your face?” She made the offer more out of politeness than concern. There was little she could do about it, healing magic was as much her forte as it was mine, which is to say we were both useless at it. We had both specialised in other aspects of our jobs as Hunters. It was too late now, anyway, the bite was mostly scars and scab, and barely ever bled nowadays. It would never fade, but that was a problem for future me.

I shook my head and replied, just as much out of courtesy, “Already on it. Got as much treatment in as I could, the rest is up to time.”

Lucie shot me a stern look. “And proper sleep. I’ll keep watch, you keep the couch some company.”

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?”

She smacked my arm as she dragged a rickety chair to the basement stairs. “Sleep. Better now than forever.”

I woke up to find Lucie reading the diary. Slowly, I got up and stretched life back into my sore body.

“Must’ve been out cold,” I mumbled.

She didn't look up. “Almost a whole day. It’s getting dark again.”

“Did you go out?” I dusted off my boots and coat. “How's it look?”

“It’s a mess, no different than yesterday.” She finally came over, shoved the diary into my hands and me back onto the couch, and sat down next to me. “Glad this lady didn’t have to see it. She had such pretty handwriting.”

“I’m not sure her current state is any better.”

“She’s not a thrall.” Lucie's gaze swept about the room. “Or was her body gone?”

“I don't know, but nobody working the pyres mentioned seeing her roaming around, so I'll assume they tore her apart instead of bringing her to their masters.” The central plaza and many of the wide streets had been almost entirely covered in pyres. Still burning, just being lit, already burnt down. People kept adding anything that would burn as fuel. Some people tried to keep track of who was dead, but they didn't have it easy with all the carnage, even this late after the attack.

Lucie frowned. “I smelled them before I even reached the city. She might have been lucky, then, huh.”

“A lot of people got dragged off, I heard.” I glanced at the diary. “Did you find anything interesting in there? 'Side from the attack details?”

“She was almost married to a werewolf, I think?” Her voice took on a note of fear. “Who does that? Give it here.”

I handed her the diary, and she flipped to one of the first pages.

“She wrote in the letter that he proposed to her. Shame on you for getting it all wrinkled, by the way. And here, she writes, Valentin confessed that I am the only person in this village who is human. Everyone else is a werewolf, he said. He didn’t want to scare me, so he kept it a secret. People handle the truth better if they don't learn it the hard way. He should have trusted her at least that much. She didn't run screaming after he told her, either, or after all the other things that happened in that village. Must have actually liked the guy.”

“Guess so,” I said. “I kind of want to go give it to him.”

“The diary?”

“Yes. If word has gone out to the nearest towns, and it has, by now, and probably all the way up north, then it'll have reached him, too. He'll want to know what happened to her.”

Lucie's face fell. “Have you gone mad?”

I reached for my pack by the couch. “You don’t have to come with me.”

She quickly shook her head. “I’m not letting you get mauled again.”

“They seem like reasonable people,” I protested. “If they hid their nature so well from a stranger, they are true, not cursed.”

“Probably. I hope so.” With a heavy sigh, Lucie placed a hand on my shoulder and held me back. “But you’ll heal up first.”

“I can heal on the road.”

She glared at me. “You can die on the road.”

I held her stare.“Or I can die in this basement.”

She sighed again. “That bit of hair isn’t gonna grow back, you know.”

“Yeah,” I said, shrugging. “Won’t grow back on the road, either.”

Lucie's eyes remained on my face, and I briefly wondered if she was trying to look past the angry red lines. “Do you think we can just roll up there and say, hey, sorry, your wife is dead, but we found her diary? They’ll smell us coming a mile upwind and either run or attack.”

“I don't think they'd run. And they'll probably appreciate the closure. Probably.” I tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Besides, if they're really true werewolves, not cursed, they won't just transform the moment they get upset. And we can cover the emblems on the coats, just pose as travellers.”

“They’ll think we’re bandits or grave robbers.” Lucie's frown deepened. Even the notion that these werewolves were in full control of their transformations did nothing to reassure her.

I rolled my shoulders and stretched. “Official business, then. I don’t have any hunts waiting right now. And I need to get out of this city. They know their stuff now, and others should be arriving soon. Or do you have any hunts?”

“No. But at least get some more rest tonight. I’ll see if I can get us some decent food.” Lucie pushed herself off the couch and started for the stairs. We could both use something that wasn't hunt rations.

I smiled. “I knew you’d understand me.”

“No, I don't understand why you'd want to go to a village full of werewolves. But I'm not letting you go there alone.” She turned around. “Does the diary have an echo?”

“I appreciate that. And no, not that I’ve noticed, but we’re strangers. If she's bound to it, she might only come out once she sees this Valentin.” Echoes were like that, at least the ones that didn't try to drag you into their death repetitions with them the moment you touched the object they were bound to. If she had become an echo rather than a thrall, the lady Walkers had gotten lucky. If something like this, something so violent, happened to a city, there were bound to be many, many echoes, forced to relive the moment of their death every night. Until a priest did their prayers to get rid of them, anyway. I had seen churches of different faiths all over the city. They would be very busy in the weeks to come.

“Maybe she's not even bonded with the diary,” I suggested. “She might be stuck in her house. Haven't heard anything from it, though.” Such violent deaths usually had screaming echoes, and some even captured the sounds or appearance of whatever killed them. That the house was quiet was a good sign.

With a grim nod, Lucie turned back around, and I didn’t see her again until she came back an hour later with bread and a chunk of cheese for both of us. Gods only know where she got it, but it was the best meal I'd had in days.

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#dreaming goblin writes #Wolventraum #my writing #writeblr #werewolves #vampires #fantasy #fantasy writeblr #fantasy writer #fantasy writing #dreaming goblin writes books #writers on tumblr #original writing #creative writing

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honeyed-sunflowers · 2 years

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what if i told you...?

what if i told you that i was not the person you thought you knew all these years? but an insignificant shadow, a fractured reflection of the one i have kept hidden for so long. what if i told you i was not made of honey-drops and sunflowers, but the result of the darkest incantations chanted, only meant for slaughter? what if i told you that the gold you see in my cracks isn't kintsugi* but the dead sunlight that ever dared to touch my unholy skin? what if i was not human?

what if i told you that i practice black magic and worship death, or that i watered dead plants and collected burnt pages? how i enjoy grief and suffering because that's what connects humans to what lies beyond this world that we think we know? what if the things i said were not exactly true and i am, in fact, all the monsters you complained to me about? what if that facade fades away with time and space? what if i had no heart, no mind, no soul?

what if i told you i was the nocturnal cats stalking desolate streets, or the ghostly memories that kill you every time you think about them? what about my silence - which isn't soft, but holds the potential to end human civilisation, or that my voice is the preserved, fossiled form of all those who stood up for what they knew was right and fought like starving lions for prey? what if i told you i saw the grim reaper* as someone more trustworthy than most people? what if i loved santa muerte* more than the beautiful brides my mother talks about?

what if i told you i was coloured glass but broken, that i was a legend but a cursed one? like a cruel creature full of anxiety, grief and anger. like angels falling from the skies to be the harshest demons, with no holy traces but absolute darkness. what if i told you i lived for burnt cathedrals, raging warriors, explosions, and the aftermath of wars? what if i was your darkest nightmare that it’s impossible for you to close your eyes at night and watch it unfold again and again?

what if i told you that i was not perfection, but rather the ruins and ashes of the roman forum*? how do i break the things that rejuvenate me, slit their throats on poetry sheets, and blame them for my ultimate collapses and failures? i am a stranded black hole, whispering words of witchcraft and deceit, sugar-coating it with stardust. what if i told you that you were the next collection in my museum of ruined artworks? what if i was the hell-fire, burning the earth, burning the homes of innocent mortals?

what if i told you i was the child of an eclipse and the scarlet moon? the constellations of the dead and the damned? that i sleep without closing my eyes, live without a beating heart? what if i told you that i look at the glowing ghosts of radium girls* every time i talked about the toxic blood that runs in my veins, that i hear their radioactive cries every time i looked in the mirror? what if i was made out of that their ultraviolet skins, their radium, and even, polonium?

what if i told you my heart was losing all the starlight to become a dormant piece of greatness, seizing to revolve or rotate, seizing to radiate? i handpick sufferings, weave them into ornaments, and wear them around just for aesthetics and poetry. what if i was the broken ceramic cups they left littered all over the tea table, after drinking honey tea from the same? or, how i am the broken wine bottles on grim alleys that once used to lead me home? what if i told you i was not the things you thought i was, rather all the things you believed were the opposite of me? what if i was never me?

INDEX

[source: google/wikipedia]

*Kintsugi - (金継ぎ, "golden joinery"), also known as kintsukuroi (金繕い, "golden repair"), is the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum.

*Grim Reaper - Death is frequently imagined as a personified force. In some mythologies, a character known as the Grim Reaper causes the victim's death by coming to collect that person's soul.

*Santa Muerte - an idol, female deity or folk saint in Mexican and Mexican-American folk Catholicism. A personification of death, she is associated with healing, protection, and safe delivery to the afterlife by her devotees.

*Roman Forum - a rectangular forum (plaza) surrounded by the ruins of several important ancient government buildings at the centre of the city of Rome.

*The Radium Girls - female factory workers who contracted radiation poisoning from painting watch dials with self-luminous paint.

#prose poetry #writing #posted an old piece!#🖤🖤🖤

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vacantgodling · 9 months

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for ovw:

1, 9, 10

thank u for indulging me also i hope you’ve been well *tiny hand on face in a caring gesture*

1. the character everyone gets wrong

like most of them imo i’m not even gl 💀 however i think the one that annoys me the most (aside from hanzo dear god) is honestly zenyatta lowkey. like the number of times i see people make zenyatta to be the most kindest happiest boy that blushes easily whenever his partner (usually ram or genji) teases him makes me so ?? tired. like he’s shown to be playful. he’s teasing. he’s witty. he admits in a voice line that he may be a monk but he’s not a pacifist so they idea that he would balk at someone doing violence is silly. and like the infantilization of him is just so odd to me. he’s got more depth than i feel like many people want to give him credit for???

also this may be my own personal vibe but i feel like people dumb down lucio AND dva like extremely heavily. sure they’re young but lucio literally led a revolution? dva is for all intents and purposes a child soldier? yes the other characters look down on dva bc of her gaming but she’s still a very serious and devoted person to her cause she just likes to have fun as well? i feel like a lot of people just focus on the fun omg waifu energy she has and nothing else about her which is like. annoying. lmao.

9. worst part of canon

LIKE. THE LACK THEREOF— jk. there is a canon but it’s so threadbare and stupid. i think top contenders is the fact that the deadlock gang was est in 1976 before ashe was introduced to the lore, and then they retconned this information (kinda) to say that when ashe, cole and [redacted-we don’t know who the third person is] made the gang, they thought it being est in 76 would look cooler and get them more cred basically. that’s what they said and i fucking remember that shit.

also insert my entire rant about how the genji hanzo and kiriko storyline is ASININE for SO MANY REASONS. also the fact that all the japanese characters are old timey samurai and ninjas basically and have essentially canon allowed magic when like no one else (except zen Kinda?) and it’s just. it’s only them. for no reason. Lmao.

also this is super small but the fact that dva a korean has a mech when like. again japan is right there lmao. dva being an idol sure i get but like if we’re gonna do mechs then like bro 💀💀 it’s a small personal nitpick tho lmao.

also just the way there feels like there’s no plan which is why they stopped story modes production entirely bc they knew there was too much conflicting bullshit to string together a cohesive story. it’s giving mess for me.

10. worst part of fanon

i don’t engage with the fandom itself as much as i used to tbh bc all of my old ovw friends aren’t into it anymore (sans valen he’s also not as into it that much. not that i blame anyone. this game makes me want to commit acts of violence). i think my biggest annoyance was the ship factions and how so many of them hated hanzo LMAO. like y’all can’t see a complex character and give a fuck huh? like we will simp for widow bc of her ass and give her a pass because she’s a GirlBoss tm when she yknow. has done some horrible shit lmao??? we Adore reaper who is also a complex character that has done some Rancid shit. but for some reason back in the day people were SOOOOO up in arms against people who cared about hanzo. it was Exhausting. like mind ur business lmao. i don’t think anyone is wrong for liking literally any of ovw’s characters but like i never understood why the vitriol for han specifically lmao.

#about renjamin #ren hot cakes

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stankycowboy · 1 year

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THE BLACKEST HOUR

It was sick returning to this same stretch of empty road; condemned by even those that built it. But the marks it bore, ones he could still see like fresh scars, belied the true significance of this place. Nothing was harder in this world for him to look at than this tarmac, the memories conjured between this asphalt, and out to the dusty expanse, tore him through to his core— shredding what little remained to be rent asunder.

It was here they were buried—scattered, like so much ash in the wind.

But those were poetic thoughts, idealisms he did not feel. What he felt was a sickness that gnawed in his insides; never resting. A pain that woke with him and slept curled in the cavity it dug for itself—an ever widening gyre. As much agony as it caused, he also fed it greedily; because the torture kept his rage alive, and it was a hellfire that roared with a fury that could only be quenched by a tribute of vehement vengeance. Every minute spent living was for that moment, a beautiful dream he often sank into-- awake or asleep-- drawing out each luxuriant moment of evisceration, every throat tearing scream of suffering, the most filling supper for the beast starved of retribution.

For a time, all that he could do was beg to be taken too, driven near to madness having not only those he’d lived decades and more beside, but his own creator ripped mercilessly from him. The empty abyss had swallowed him and he had seen no way to climb out.

Starved to the brink, his salvation had come at the unluckiness of another; a homeless man who Severen had mistaken for Jesse in his heightened delirium. The man, too confused to stop the strange, lumbering revenant from holding him fast, allowed Severen to grieve; listening to his wails with both fear and patience. It wasn’t until the unnatural creature could smell the pounding, terrified blood that he realized his error, and hunger rather than embarrassment drove him to feast.

You really thought that was me?

He had heard the condescending echo in his mind.

“I guess” Severen muttered to himself, unabashed of speaking to what was most likely a figment of his damaged imagination.

I guess Diamondback said I needed a new coat.

“What’s wrong with an’ old coat?” Severen chuckled to himself looking at the poor attempt he had made to salvage the remains of his trophy strewn leather tapestry— the coat that held his every memory. The smile that had tried to take roost was replaced once more with a look of abject misery.

“I wish’d been me instead Jess” he moaned, a far way from tears, but sorrowful still.

I don’t.

It was simple, yet did more to pull Severen out of his malaise than any flowery speech could. He wanted to question the statement, rebut it, relate all the things Jesse had to live for that Severen did not; but to what avail?

Were he speaking to himself it would not change what he already knew, if he was somehow speaking to Jesse it would be impossible to change his mind— of that he was very sure. Before Jesse, Severen had been kept at arm’s reach by most. He was headstrong, volatile, brutal at times, and none felt brave enough to challenge him, so he pushed to get his way— violent even with words. Jesse had known exactly how to speak to him. Was cool and rational where others tried to muscle up with him, forthright and earnest where others sought to lie in hopes of appeasing. It was not just immortality that had been gifted to the Reaper, but an eternal friendship that had seen both of them through turmoil others may never know in their lifetimes.

And beyond their own kinship had been the other members of their posse. The ferocious mother, the tormented elder; uniting disparate parts that ought not to have fit as well as they did. A haphazard coalition that fought tooth and nail for one another without question.

Would he ever know that bond again?

There was no reply, internal, nor external.

Severen had hung his head and solemnly waited for daylight, only to scramble to the shadows at the last minute— on instinct more than desire for salvation.

That would be the last time. Afterward he fed, and never— or rarely— chased the Dawn. He did, however, begin the pilgrimage to this place of ruin.

It was difficult the first time, he barely made it down the road, let alone look for signs of their previous encounter there. The second was much the same. The third he no longer feared the scars. The fourth he traced them. He could no longer say how many times he had now stood at this spot, followed this track one way or another. There was no ritual set in place.

He would come, he would wander, he would return.

In the early times he may secretly have been searching for a sign, a trace of them, alive and waiting for him; but that fanciful notion had long been ablated. Now he used these painful strolls to seethe in his torment and feed the beast that hungered for revenge.

It would be a judgement like no other.

The pure brutality would last as long as he could stretch, and he’d had plenty of time to perfect his methods; and imagine how to fill the hours. Any previous threat to that putrid brat’s life would pale in comparison to what he’d devised. Beyond savagery, it would be nightmarish, and he would savor every drop. It may not bring back those he had lost, his own chosen kin, but it sure would help him sleep the days away easier.

Severen looked down at the pale brown dust coating his boots— silent now without his spurs— and knew it was time to once more be on his way. Facing the trail alone was not something he wanted, but had to do, and not a one of those unquiet souls would have him linger for the sun in this place of atrocity. He cut across the road and into the fallow field, scouring a well known path through the dry weeds to the rusty storage shed he had spent one too many nights in— at least more than he had expected. With the day he could possibly find rest, and perhaps separate himself from this hell once more.

“Hey mister!”

A voice called out from behind him, near the road. Casually Severen angled his head by his shoulder, indicating to the stranger he was listening.

“Does this road cut back to the highway? Ain’t no signs up around here!”

Severen leaned back, shoving his hands into his pockets, a hidden smile splitting his face.

“Sure ain’t, but gimme a lift an’ I can get you where you’re goin’”.

There was a pause, he waited.

“Well, alright, but I ain’t takin’ detours”.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we’re goin’ the same place”.

Severen smoothly rotated on the heel of his boot, heading back to the road, hiding his terrible grin in the dark.

“What’choo doin’ out here so early anyway? Don’t look much like a farmhand.” The man asked as his new passenger climbed inside the cab.

“Just goin’ for a walk, enjoyin’ the night”, he glanced back into the covered back of the truck, “an you?”

The man cagily looked away, shifting into drive, “Enjoyin’ the night”.

Severen chuckled pointing toward the right with his thumb.

“Go on down that road there it’ll cut you straight over to the highway”.

“You sure?”

“Mister, I been down this way hun’red times at least. I know my way around”.

The stranger doesn’t question the wanderer, watching as he props his boots up on the dashboard, dirt drifting off to create an outline around them. No words are shared as they make their way, just at the edge of the horizon the sky is lightening. Up ahead Severen can see his hideaway.

“You wouldn’t be fuckin’ with me, would you?”

The driver’s teeth are gritted in frustration, the vampire can hear it, he savors the ire, delicious in its futility.

“Me, sir?”, he put on his best attempt at mock offense, “I’m jus’ tryin’a help you out!” He laid it on thick, sitting up and leaning over to catch the guy’s eye, one hand braced against his heart as if pierced.

“In fact, let me just get you where you’re goin’”.

“That’s what I fuckin’ asked you in the first place!”

The man fully turned toward Severen who leapt at him, mouth clenching around the man’s nose. It tore off into his mouth in a single bite. A startled, blood choked gasp was the only response the driver could muster, hands flailing to his face.

“Got yer nose”, Severen darkly chuckled, crushing the mass of cartilage and flesh between his teeth before spitting it to the floorboards. The truck began to veer off the paved road into gravel, offhandedly Severen steered them back center, gleaming, predatory eyes never leaving his prey.

“What else you got for me?”

His victim couldn’t even attempt to fend off the beast, head cracking against the glass of the window and causing it to burst into a fractal pattern. Dazed, bleeding, he blearily tried to make sense of his surroundings, but it was all fading, all due to the guzzling creature at his throat. Severen fed deeply, with gusto, the jagged tear he had made spilling the man’s life freely into his waiting mouth. It wasn’t until he felt the truck tipping that he thought to have a care that he was still within a moving vehicle— as he couldn’t do much to affect their current trajectory, Severen decided to enjoy the ride.

A carefree, exuberant yell looses from the eternal cowboy as the world spins around them. When it finally settles in the ditch, a heap of bent metal and shattered glass, all that is left within is a mangled configuration of limbs over what could roughly be defined as a human torso.

Just in time before the dawning, Severen shutters the shed, throwing the lock and backing into the deep, dark depths. The feed didn’t exactly clear his mind— thoughts still riddled with merciless emptiness— but he does feel better for it.

Does you good.

The Savage One allows himself a softer grin, one he had shared under the stars what seems ages ago. A doleful chuckle, a toss of his dark tresses, and Severen leans back against the wall, the beginnings of daytime catatonia taking over. Maybe in these dreams they will be here with him, maybe they’ll be just here at his side where he can watch them, protect them, just as he’s meant to.

The thought lightens something in his chest and he drifts away, hidden from a world that terrorizes its own in daylight.

#near dark #severen van sickle #one shot

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savagecowboy · 3 months

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑

It was here they were buried—scattered, like so much ash in the wind.

You really thought that was me?

He had heard the condescending echo in his mind.

“I guess” Severen muttered to himself, unabashed of speaking to what was most likely a figment of his damaged imagination.

I guess Diamondback said I needed a new coat.

“I wish’d been me instead Jess” he moaned, a far way from tears, but sorrowful still.

I don’t.

Would he ever know that bond again?

There was no reply, internal, nor external.

Severen had hung his head and solemnly waited for daylight, only to scramble to the shadows at the last minute— on instinct more than desire for salvation.

That would be the last time. Afterward he fed, and never— or rarely— chased the Dawn. He did, however, begin the pilgrimage to this place of ruin.

He would come, he would wander, he would return.

It would be a judgement like no other.

“Hey mister!”

A voice called out from behind him, near the road. Casually Severen angled his head by his shoulder, indicating to the stranger he was listening.

“Does this road cut back to the highway? Ain’t no signs up around here!”

Severen leaned back, shoving his hands into his pockets, a hidden smile splitting his face.

“Sure ain’t, but gimme a lift an’ I can get you where you’re goin’”.

There was a pause, he waited.

“Well, alright, but I ain’t takin’ detours”.

“Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we’re goin’ the same place”.

Severen smoothly rotated on the heel of his boot, heading back to the road, hiding his terrible grin in the dark.

“What’choo doin’ out here so early anyway? Don’t look much like a farmhand.” The man asked as his new passenger climbed inside the cab.

“Just goin’ for a walk, enjoyin’ the night”, he glanced back into the covered back of the truck, “an you?”

The man cagily looked away, shifting into drive, “Enjoyin’ the night”.

Severen chuckled pointing toward the right with his thumb.

“Go on down that road there it’ll cut you straight over to the highway”.

“You sure?”

“Mister, I been down this way hun’red times at least. I know my way around”.

“You wouldn’t be fuckin’ with me, would you?”

The driver’s teeth are gritted in frustration, the vampire can hear it, he savors the ire, delicious in its futility.

“In fact, let me just get you where you’re goin’”.

“That’s what I fuckin’ asked you in the first place!”

“What else you got for me?”

Does you good.

The thought lightens something in his chest and he drifts away, hidden from a world that terrorizes its own in daylight.

#near dark #near dark fanfic #severen van sickle #✘ ONE SHOT.

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trashheappro · 7 months

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Ch: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

Revenant was not looking forward to the next target. When you’ve existed as long as him, all targets start to feel the same, even non-human ones. One of the few beings he couldn’t say that about were vampires. Their lifespans were ridiculously long and they were powerful half-dead creatures that could meddle in both the mortal and spiritual plane. If they so choose, a vampire house could fend off and even destroy reapers.

Sending individual reapers to collect a vampire soul was against protocol. They made that mistake a long time ago, and never again. Death themself had to come down to collect that soul. Most houses didn’t usually try anything, it was merely a precaution. But from then on, a minimum party of eight reapers were required to collect prominent vampire souls.

This was one such occasion. This was an ancient and powerful family. The land they governed was more like a city than an estate. The current head was said to be a kind merciful fanged. The heir, not so much. If the heir cared enough to try and prevent the head’s passing, there would most certainly be losses on both side.

“Nervous?” Ash asked.

“No,” he responded.

“Good.”

The town was quiet, lanterns were lit, there was a small gathering in the square. Humans preemptively mourning the loss of their guardian. The group of reapers ignored them as they made their way to the castle. The grand doors opened slowly with a hollow creak. There in the doorway stood a human.

“Welcome!” the cloaked woman greeted in a much more chipper tone than what the town felt. She had no special signature, just… a mere human mortal.

Then why was she smiling at a party of reapers like she could see them. She pulled her hood down and it became apparent why. A lightning scar ran down her face and likely down the rest of her body. She had been touched by death and lived.

“The master has been expecting you.” She waved them in. She walked back into the manor, trusting the reapers to follow. “I am Natalie Paquette. I will guide you.”

The manor had other vampires inside, all in mourning, all glaring at them, but none made a move. How strange to be seen, to be hated, yet respected. They wore various attire; some in fine silks and other in rags. Revenant had heard that this family head adored picking up strays.

Though Revenant noticed, none of them were human. Then, why had this Natalie been free to walk around. Was she-

“Are you their bloodbag?” Ash bluntly asked.

Natalie giggled. “No. The townsfolk donate their blood to the House in exchange for protection.” She smiled at them. “I am a simple family friend.”

“A simple family friend who welcomes reapers into their home.”

Her smile falls more to a grimace. “It’s the least I can do for a good friend.” She walked up the stairs, ignoring the curious eyes of the reapers on her back. Ash always did like to rattle humans. Revenant did too on occasion. But this girl was downright welcoming to beings who could take her soul with a simple touch.

He had a bad feeling building in his chest. The air was heavy with agony. This night was not going to end well. It was strange. While fanged were capable of destroying a reaper, few were able to, even less willing to. There was no reason for him to feel this way. Ash on the other hand didn’t seem to notice, or perhaps she simply did not care. Rather, she seemed oddly… chipper, looking around the manor more like a tourist than a reaper.

“Focus,” Revenant whispered to her.

She chuckled darkly. “I am. Wouldn’t want to miss a thing.”

Revenant sighed, unsure of her tone and what she was implying. She was strange, but she was loyal to death. She never deviated from the mission. Unlike his own thoughts. How could he help it? Surrounded by so many fanged he could only find himself wondering about his own.

He cursed himself. Again, his mind betrayed him. The fanged belonged to no one, least of all him. He could only hope that this would end quickly. The longer he stayed here, the more his mind wandered.

Natalie knocked on a large set of double doors. “Madam,” she said loudly. “They are here.”

“Let them in,” a weak voice called through the door. She opened the doors and stepped inside. The figure on the bed beckoned her forward and grasped her hand. “Thank you, my dear, for everything.”

She chuckled. “I should be the one saying that.”

“Goodbye, Natalie.”

“Goodbye, Madam Nox.” Natalie turned and walked out of the room, tears welling in her eyes.

The reapers shifted into the room. Revenant was just glad this was going to be over soon. Madam Nox also seemed compliant. Perhaps his earlier jitters were unfounded.

“My darling boy,” Madam Nox said. Her hand patted a lump, no, a hunched figure seated next to her bed, their head resting next to the madam. “It is time.”

The figure rustled and slowly sat up. Red rimmed eyes almost as dark as his red irises. His hair was disheveled, and not in a way Revenant had gotten used to seeing. Tears streaked down his face. He looked horrible. His little fanged.

When their eyes met, Tae Joon’s widened, a mix of emotions flashing through them; surprise, elation, confusion, then back to misery. Revenant stopped himself from taking a step forward. He feared what he might do in front of all his peers; comfort was the first thing to come to mind, and that would not be tolerated.

Then Tae Joon’s eyes drifted over to Ash. “You?” He slowly straightened his back and watched her. Fury bubbled in his eyes. His lips lifted in a snarl. “You!”

Revenant startled at his reaction.

Amusement rolled off Ash. He recognized her? How? Had she do something to him? Was that why she was looking around earlier? Ash was never one to stray from death, what could she have sone to anger the little fanged?

Tae Joon’s grip on the sheets tightened into a fist. “Did you do this?” He slowly stood up. “Did you do this to her?” His eyes glowed a dangerous red, the air became thick with shadows.

His brood mother, Madam Nox, stared at her son with wide eyes. “Tae Joon, stop-” A harsh cough cut her off.

“Did you do this to her to mock me?” His voice reverberated in the room. The runes on his neck and jaw glowed. It sounded like it was coming from all around them. The air was heavier than shadows, it was thicker than nightfall. The air tasted of the void.

Even Ash hesitated. The reapers called their shadows to them, blades forming. Revenant didn’t. The little fanged could be reasoned with. Maybe. But the darkness creeping into their vision said otherwise.

“Tae-” the madam tried. But her son was no longer listening.

Tae Joon’s body was coiled tight. “Speak!” he snapped.

Large red eyes opened behind him, more appeared, crawling up the walls; appeared from the blackness consuming the room, surrounding them. They were in ever crack and crevice, whether it be from gaps in the bookcases or in between the strands of hair. His skin itched at the sheer number of them. He could feel them all over his body, invading his insides; for a brief moment, he considered cutting them out.

Behind the pupils was knowledge beyond the mortal and spiritual plane. Beyond space. Beyond time. Beyond. Beyond. Beyo- Be- his comprehension. Nothing could hide from those eyes. Nowhere to go where those eyes couldn’t follow. His head screamed. He held back the desire to dig his eyes out.

Tae Joon stood before them. The Almighty Eye, etched into the flesh, bound by runes. The boy shouldn’t be alive. Even merely being in its presence would have killed any mortal being. Had that human girl been in here, she would have died slowly and painfully in insanity. Even the reapers froze in its presence, fought off the urges to succumb.

The vampires could kill them all if they wanted.

His little fanged. Revenant’s fingers twitched. If he could just have the little fanged understand- There had to be a misunderstanding- But his body refused to move.

“Tae Joon!” Madam Nox’s voice rung through it all. The shadows warbled, the little fanged faltered.

Clouds of smoke crept into the room and a hand shot out to shove Tae Joon back onto the bed. Thick fingers wrapped around his neck, around his little fanged’s neck. “Down, boy,” a deep voice commanded. “Do not throw a tantrum.”

Tae Joon did not relax, but he relented. The eyes retreated back to him. His eyes, the ones on his face, warbled, on the verge of tears. Revenant took a step forward.

“Alexander,” Madam Nox breathed a sigh of relief.

He lifted Tae Joon by his neck and threw him towards the window. “Leave, boy,” Alexander snapped. “Before you futher sully the family’s name.”

“Alex!” she snapped. Tae Joon glared at them, at all of them, but his expression softened when his eyes returned to his dying mother. “My darling boy,” she beckoned Tae Joon. “Come here.”

He got to his feet and walk over to her obligingly, kneeling at her bedside.

She brushed his tears away. “It’s time; you know this.”

“Yes, mother.”

She smiled softly to him. “Take care of yourself.”

He gave her a half-hearted smile in return. “Yes, mother.”

“And try to behave yourself.” She chuckled.

“I’ll try, mother.”

“I love you, my darling boy.”

“And I you, mother,” his voice shook. They shared one last look. Tae Joon glance at Revenant once before turning into a bat and flying out the window.

“Alexander.”

The Nox heir rolled his eyes. “Mother, this is really not necessary.”

Still, she waved him over.

He sighed as he took her hand.

“Be gentle with Tae Joon.”

“If he weren’t so soft-”

“Alexander, he’s been through a lot.” She rubbed the top of his knuckles. “Please be kind to him.”

The Nox heir scoffed.

“Alexander.”

“Of course, mother.”

“I believe in you, Alex.” She squeezed his hand. “You will be great.”

He squeezed back. “Of course, mother.” He let go of his mother and stood. He nodded once to the reapers before disappearing into smoke.

Madam Nox breathed out steadily. “Thank you for being so patient,” she said addressing them. “And if I may have another selfish request.”

“Depends on the request,” Ash said.

She made eye contact with Revenant. “May you be the one to take me?”

“Me?” Revenant questioned.

“Yes.”

He hesitated. “If that is what you would like, Ma’am.”

She smiled. “I would.”

He stepped up. His eyes flashed and the shadows gathered to him. His scythe had never felt heavier in his hands. Would his little fanged resent him for this? Would his little fanged reject him? But this was his job, his mission tasked by death. He had to obey.

As he raised his scythe to take her, she pointed a feeble finger at him. He felt a searing sensation on his back as he swung. Once the soul was sucked into his scythe, the other reapers left, off to their next targets. None stayed long enough to notice Revenant froze in the middle of the room.

His mind felt foggy. The room blurred. The madam stood before him. “You’re dead,” he hissed. “I- I took your soul.”

“You did. I am not her, simply the remnant of her magic.”

“Wh-what did you do?”

“I apologize,” she said. “I wanted to speak privately.”

“About?”

“My son, Tae Joon,” she turned to look out the window. “You care for him. I could tell you were worried for him. I am too.”

“Your point?”

“Please watch over him for me.”

“That is not my duty.” And even if he had wanted to, he was a bound being.

“I am aware.” She smiled. “If you would like, I could change that.”

His eyes widened. “You could-” set him free.

“No, I can’t. I am not stronger than death,” she said regretfully. “What I can do is bind you to my contract, one that would allow you to commit actions outside your assignments so long as they benefit my boy.”

Revenant barked a laugh. “You want me to have two masters instead of one. I’d rather not,” he snapped.

“I’d much rather you consider it like different families.” She turned back towards him. “When you get tired of gathering souls for death, you can go find my son; I’m sure he will keep you entertained,” she shot him a knowing smirk.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Yes, of course you do.” She pointed to him and he felt the slight searing on his back. “I have imbued you with my magic. If it is left alone, eventually my magic will fade, no harm done. If you agree, what is left of my magic will bind you to my son.”

He thought of Tae Joon. His little fanged. The only bright spot in his dreary existence. And as much as he wouldn’t mind in the moment, could he really bind himself to another for that long? He couldn’t. This was just a fleeting feeling. He would not feel the same given time. Feeling? He was a reaper; he could not feel.

Her image became more and more unclear. She was fading away. “Choose, reaper; soon there will not be enough magic to bind you and your only option will be to follow death.”

“I-” To bind himself to his little fanged. What if he changed? What if he were to have Revenant commit acts against his code? Death was not swayed by moral. Death was absolute. Death the only neutral being. And that little fanged, that boy demonstrated perfectly why Revenant should say no. He was childish. Killing humans just to stay warm. Throwing a tantrum… over losing his mother and thinking Ash had something to do with it. “What would it entail?”

“Whatever you want it to,” she said. “I ask not for obedience, but for care. Watch over him, keep him safe, whatever that means to you.”

His eyes widened. He- he got to choose? To choose what he could do for the little fanged? To do what he thought best? He had a choice? The “yes” tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

The searing on his back radiated throughout the rest of his body. It was nothing he ever felt before. Warmth cooler than a furnace and softer than the sun. “Wise choice,” the apparition said, vanishing.

Revenant flexed his fingers, testing his mobility. He felt… the same. No unusual discomfort, no new sensations. On instinct, he checked who his next target was. Instead of the usual one, he felt two pulls. One towards the west, to the next soul he must collect. And one to the south, to Tae Joon.

He jumped out of the window and headed south.

Revenant found his little fanged sat on a rock, tears flowing into the river below him. His clothes were a mess, his hair was a mess, his face was a mess. The little fanged was, in general, a mess.

“Leave me,” Tae Joon mumbled. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

Revenant cautiously approached and sat down, his back touching Tae Joon’s. The little fanged did not lash out, so he counted that as a win. “Did you speak to your mother about me?” he asked.

“A little,” he admitted. “She noticed a bounce in my step. Mothers are like that.” His voice cracked. “When she asked, I answered.”

“She was very perceptive.”

Tae Joon pressed his palms into his eyes. “How would you know?”

Revenant huffed, amused. “She noticed my… concern for you and spoke to me.”

Tae Joon huffed, far less amused. “Don’t tell me she told you to baby me. She already has Alexander for that.”

“The heir?”

“Now head, yes.” Tae Joon leaned into him. “He doesn’t like me very much.”

“Mm. I got that sense.”

“Mother was the last good thing I had.” His voice wobbled. “I have nothing left.”

“You’re a Nox.”

“No. I was her son, but that house was never mine,” he said bitterly. “And it never will be; Alexander will make sure of that.”

“You don’t seem to think very highly of him.”

“He’s a brilliant man; strong, levelheaded. He will do right by the Nox name. He will make mother proud.”

“Ah, it is because you do not think yourself worthy.”

Tae Joon scoffed. “Alexander doesn’t either.”

Revenant laid his hand over Tae Joon’s. “Maybe you aren’t right now, but you will be.” He leaned back, letting his head thump lightly against Tae Joon’s. “You’re still young. There is still much for you to learn.”

“I’m nearly 700 years old.”

Revenant patted Tae Joon’s hand. “Still very young.”

He snorted, then sniffled, then wiped his eyes. He shifted until he was facing Revenant’s back. He laid his head between Revenant’s shoulder blades. “I’m sorry about the… incident back in the manor. I didn’t mean to lose control.”

“I’ve never been in the presence of the Almighty Eye.”

“You’re not, I’m not.” He reached up to grip shyly at Revenant’s cloak. “They had… performed a ritual on me, trying to contain it, to use it, to abuse it. Mother saved me. Part of it stayed with me.”

Revenant chuckled. “That was only part of its power? I fear the being you would have become had they succeeded.”

“Nothing. I would have been nothing.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The hilt of a sword makes it easier for the user to wield the blade. The hilt neither contains nor is in control of the sword, it is a simple catalyst for everyone else to use.” He buried his head into Revenant’s back. “The insides need to be empty to properly hold the blade.”

Revenant slowly shifted to face Tae Joon, though the little fanged’s head was still bowed. “Not so different then.” He didn’t even remember who or what he was before he was a hand of death. Endlessly followed orders, target after target. An empty existence. Until he met his little fanged. A finger raised Tae Joon’s chin to look at him; wet, red-rimmed eyes stared back at him. “I am thankful she saved you.” He cradled Tae Joon’s head. “I am thankful to have you with me now.”

Tears welled in his eyes again. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

“I have nothing. I am nothing. Alexander sees that.” There is a deep sadness behind those eyes, more than the loss of Madam Nox could account for. His sister perhaps; this sadness had resided deep within since the passing of his sister. “I am alone,” Tae Joon whispered. “Just as Alex said I would be.”

“You have me.”

He scoffed. “You’re a reaper, you have better things to do than keep me company.”

“I disagree.”

A laugh startled out of Tae Joon. “When did you become such a charmer?”

Revenant rolled his eyes. “I am not. You’re just-” quite possibly the best thing to happen to him. “Different.”

Tae Joon stared at him with a longing he has never had directed at him. “Don’t-” he said breathlessly. “Don’t mislead me.”

“Do you think that lowly of me?”

“I don’t know what to think.”

Revenant held Tae Joon’s head between his hands like he were a precious gem. He leaned forward and pressed his mask against Tae Joon’s lips. The little fanged went stiff in his arms. He feared he miscalculated. The little fanged’s mother had just died. Perhaps this was the wrong time and-

Tae Joon pressed back. He kissed like a sinking man that was unsure if he deserved a seat in the life raft; desperate, but hesitant. His fists clutched his cloak, hands trembling. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t even technically a kiss, Tae Joon pressed against him like it was even more.

By the gods, Revenant wanted it to be real. Revenant wanted to hold him, to feel those lips on his; to feel anything against his skin other than this mask and his cloak. He wanted to touch Tae Joon. He yearned for it in a way no reaper should.

Tae Joon pushed Revenant’s hood back and ran his hands through Revenant’s hair. It tingled his scalp and Revenant couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine when Tae Joon held him close by the back of his neck. A hand caressed his cheek, teasing the edge of his mask.

“Please,” Tae Joon begged. “May I?”

Revenant hesitated. He feared this would stop if he said no. He feared what would happen if he said yes. He was a hand of death, yes, but did he have the kiss of one too? He never tried; no reaper has. He feared what it would mean if he did. Nothing could happen, the little fanged was already half dead. But he could also kill him. He couldn’t risk the little fanged for something he selfishly wanted.

Tae Joon sensed his turmoil and made the decision for him. He pushed Revenant’s mask up, just enough to kiss the reaper silly. He hummed, pleased, when Revenant melted into it.

Revenant didn’t know what anything felt like outside the little fanged. Didn’t know any touch besides those lips on him. He has not known what feeling was in a long time. This was mortality; the drunken feeling of having something so good the threat of losing it drove you insane.

The little fanged’s lips sapped his sanity.

Succubus.

Tae Joon pulled back, breathless and grinning. “Amateur.”

Revenant pulled down his mask, drinking in the sight of the little fanged eager for more, that look directed at him. “It’s not something reapers often practice.”

“Perhaps I can help with that.”

“Perhaps.”

Tae Joon chuckled, disbelief crossing his face, unsure if this moment was real or a dream. “Are you truly here with me?” He let his forehead rest on Revenant’s shoulder.

“Do you really daydream of me often enough for that to be a question?”

“Yes.”

Revenant shook his head, amused. “Surely there are better things to think about.”

“Not many.”

“Flattery won’t get you another kiss.”

“Won’t it?”

Maybe not, but oh those eyes. Those eyes just might. “I would… but I have other duties.”

The little fanged deflated. “Right,” his hands retreated into his lap. “I’m sorry for keeping you.”

Revenant pressed his forehead against Tae Joon’s. “Thank you for keeping me.”

Tae Joon’s eyes fluttered. “Don’t you have a target to be getting to?”

“Eager to be rid of me?”

“Never.”

“I’ll see you soon, little fanged.”

“Promise?”

Revenant reached out to the tug in the back of his mind and confirmed that his charge was in front of him; that he could find the little fanged himself instead of leaving their meetings to fate. “Yes.” He squeezed Tae Joon’s hands. “I will always find you.”

#cryprev #crypto/revenant #trashtexts #Little Fanged

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xawkward-ariesx · 2 years

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For the @doctorrosebingo prompt fulfillment: dystopia/apocalypse. Tw: death, war, genocide mention. Somewhat graphic.

He found her at the end of the world. Or rather the end of a world. A wraith-like figure looming over a battlefield as it's own personal grim reaper, an apocalyptic wasteland with her as the sole survivor standing amongst the carnage. The gaunt expression staring back at him so at odds with the pink and yellow human he'd left on New Year.

"What happened here?" Were the first words he spoke to her in a century.

"Time." She said simply, her voice more hollow than he remembered.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern at her response. He felt the time distortions pressing in on his time senses, the reason for him being here in the first place, and knew them not to be of natural origin. He just couldn't understand how she was here or how she was connected to it all.

"Time ran out." She continued. "Can't you feel it Timelord?"

"What did you do to them?" He was now almost certain that Rose was the perpetrator behind the destruction laid out between them like a macabre diorama. After all, he was more than familiar with being the sole survivor amongst the carnage and what that meant.

"I didn't do anything, they destroyed each other. I merely prevented their war from spilling out into other civilisations, keeping them encapsulated while time ran its course."

"You manipulated time." He accused.

"I created a time bubble." She corrected. "Allowing the conflict to remain self-contained while it did its job. No other planet needed to suffer and it didn't need to be endlessly dragged out."

"You messed with something you shouldn't have." He seethed stalking closer to her stoic figure. He didn't like how calmly she spoke of the destruction here. Didn't like the picture that was being painted here.

"Says the man that stood in the ashes of his own people." She snarled back. "I've not done anything you yourself haven't done a dozen times over, Doctor. This isn't my first genocide nor is it the first you've witnessed."

He fought against the flinch he felt at the reminder of just what event had precipitated this. Bad Wolf may have been created out of Rose and the TARDIS' shared love for him but she had also been born in war and bathed in its blood too. He'd tried to forget about the Time Goddess that had been created in his name for over a century he'd been fairly successful until today.

"I know what I'm doing. And everything I've done has been with the best intentions."

"And you assume I wasn't acting under the same belief?" She glared up at him acidly. "You're not the only one with all of time pouring through their mind and a morality complex in this universe. Would you like to see what would have been without my intervention?" She asked spitefully.

Unbidden images flashed through his mind of a war that stretched across the years, across the decades and eventually over a century. Taking over the surrounding planets and destroying them as it stretched on. He saw children taken from their homes to be experimented on to become the perfect weapon, against their parents' wishes. He watched as the parents who fought for the return of their stolen children were cut down and mutilated. He watched as the populaces became mutated by the plagued created in biological warfare.

There were few things that came close to the horror of the time war but this may have come close if it hadn't been for Rose.

"You see? I did what needed to be done and I didn't have to kill them to do it. They lived out their lives in the fashion of their choosing. But they chose this. I'm not responsible for their destruction but I accept that responsibility regardless."

"This was a kindness, is that what you're saying?" He raised a brow at her.

"Kindness and mercy are not the same, you know that better than most."

Bile rose in his throat at her words, at her casual demeanour throughout it all, her unwavering belief in her actions. What had happened to the girl he'd asked to travel with him all those years ago?

"I often wondered why you chose the name Bad Wolf but now I suppose it's fitting." He spoke disdainfully around the nausea that washed over him at the girl turned goddess.

Nothing survives in the belly of the beast, not even kindness or light my dear.

#Ace writes #Doctorrosebingor1 #doctor who #doctor who drabble #DW drabble #Timepetal #Rose Tyler #Twelfth Doctor #Twelve x Rose #Twelverose drabble #Dystopia/Apocalypse #Twelverose moodboard #Drabble moodboard #writing moodboard #Time Goddess!Rose #Dark!Rose

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doctorwholover01 · 3 years

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Hello, hi wow it's been a while since I've posted on the tag. Then again there is really nothing to post about it really speculate about. Anyways, we got the episode names which is fun and some photo bare minimum. With this though I wanted to make a post about the episode names and the synopsis of episode two of s11 I wanna talk about specifically the part of;

' Daryl is in his own intense hellish situation trying to find dog and finding more than he expected '

Like many others who I have seen on here and on Twitter my mind went ' it's Leah '. We knew she was coming back and specifically them using dog as a way of leading Daryl to Leah as it sounds in this is very remanist of in Find me where dog leads Carol and Daryl to the cabin. Now as I said we knew Lynn was coming back as Leah we suspected as much. But I want to talk more on how the importance of the Leah is a reaper theory comes into the episode names in my mind. To break down:

11×01: Acheron Part I

11×02: Acheron Part II

- Acheron a river in Greece and known in Greece mythology as the ' river of woe ' and one of the five rivers of the underworld. This river would be a passage for the newly deceased into the underworld. I thought it was interesting that they are naming a two part episode after Greek mythology and especially the river of woe, of sorrow of distress. This could possibly be the inevitable end to Alexandria or something more. There is a need for food and a need to rebuild to survive could this be why they used this myth as well as in episode two having to fight walker. So basically all in all this two parter will possibly be sorrowful. With the return of Leah though the next few episode names is where I thought of what the writers may or may not being doing.

11×03: Hunted

11×04:Rendition

11×05: Out of the Ashes ( if this isn't a Caryl EP I will riot )

11×06: On the Inside

11×07: Promises Broken

11×08: For Blood.

Okay these episodes right here their names I really like them and my brain may be making up shit or thinking up a possible dream story but heres what I thought may happen when I read after ep1 and 2 names.

So episode threes name for me went for two things 1. Being Daryl being hunted by Leah and the reaper's ( I'm not so sure about that one ) 2. Daryl being hunted by his past of Leah so her presence being there as well as the group being hunted by the reaper's specifically Maggie her story to this and how Leah being a reaper will make the story that more interesting. Because of whatever hold she has on Daryl can be used to her advantage.

Episode four being name Rendition I thought was interesting in two ways in story wise. Rendition is a performative piece of music so a performance is being performed from Eugene group possible to get to the commonwealth. And as well as Leah to get her way into the group and get to Maggie to preform as a defensively, alone in order for that hold on Daryl to be held. A performance is going to happen in each way.

Out of the ashes episode 5 like I said will fight if it's not a Caryl episode. I'm joking... Kind of. Out of the ashes to me sounds like a big phew moment maybe the group find food, find Connie, get in contact with Eugene group. All of that to me is what I think this episode may be a kind of relief but not really. Cause it's TWD and we haven't known relief for years. Like episode one and two this episode I don't really have a lot to say expect that.

Episode six, On the Inside, now from I think it apparent filming spoilers of Norman filming as Daryl with reaper's there has been this theory going about that Daryl will actually be a reaper because of Leah which I'm not going lie to me just sounds like bad story telling if it goes through. Daryl character had found his place in where he belongs which is with team fam he says as much to Carol in find me. To me On the Inside would be where Leah found in EP 2 would come into play with her reaper story line. She is on the inside of the group now possibly part of it she is inside there walls and she has infiltrated the group which in order for her possibly maybe being a reaper leader gives her a head start on how to get to Maggie to know the group and the bring it all down and burn it, pillage and take everything. I don't think Daryl is working with the reaper like I said it would be a horrible 360 on his character now but infact Leah infiltrating on the inside. As well as Eugene group getting a feel for the commonwealth scooping it out. Seeing what that life is.

Promises broken this episode is why I think it's Leah working on the inside of the group to infiltrate. She has most likely told Daryl she doesn't have a group in order to get to Maggie since the reaper's seem to be her storyline and now Daryl possibly with Leah. Like I said I think Leah from the inside of the group will try to burn it all down like with the Whispers expect Leah will be smart about it hitting already weak points like alpha did but not showing her hand too quickly. Remmber the hold on Daryl I said about she will try to use that break him down more against the group possibly reminding him of his time in the woods. Maybe he's sees through it through the lie hence a Promise broken. She is break that hold on him promise of his past of which he left and felt guilty about where he thought he belonged broken. Which would tie into.

The half way point... I think. For Blood episode eight. The reaper want blood as we've seen a little in the extra episode specifically Maggie groups blood and now it will be all of Alexandria who is Maggie group. I feel in this episode as it is the half way point Leah will show her true colours to everyone making Daryl feel at blame as he has let her into the group and now put HIS BLOOD his family at danger to the reaper's. I think a fight will pan out in this episode and as one of my friends said maybe Daryl will have to chose to either still feel this hold Leah had over him and sacrifice Leah For Blood, for his family to feel he has right his own wrong.

Yeah so basically tada. This is all been stuck in my head for about two days now and I thought I'd share. I'd like to know others opinions on these episodes as well. So I'm just going to peace out again and not post until the trailer comes out.

PSA I do know this has little to nothing to do with Caryl but the Caryl tag is where I post most. I am a Caryl account this is also where I seen the most speculation.

#caryl #daryl dixon #twd #carol peletier #angela kang #the walking dead #finale season #Season 11 #twd s11 #speculation

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writingsbysam · 3 years

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Athena Parthenos (Love's Absence)

My tale is not the tale of Aphrodite, violence did not create me, lust did not shape me. I do not burn so bright, I do not lay with anyone as she does. Listing Aphrodite’s conquest could take millennia. I am not her. I am not Love.

Nor is it the tale of Artemis, who’s sisters-in-arms keep her warm at night. Wilderness did not raise me. I am not the giver of life, but the reaper of it. They say she had Atalanta in her grip, loved Callisto, snatched Iphigenia from the sacrificial altar, forced Hippolytus back to life and held Orion as he died. Even the coldest huntress could love.

I am born not from love nor passion, so I can conceive neither. Bursting forth from the head of Zeus, armor clad and spear in hand, born from fear and prophecy.

I’ve tried to stop this concretion of my heart. I tried once, when I was still young, on the shores of Lake Tritonis. Her name was Pallas. A nymph daughter of Triton. We grew up together, on the shores of the lake.

“Come on, Athana Potnia!” She gestured out into the lake, the sea glass waters matching the colour of her eyes.

“Must you call me that, Pallas?” I sighed out.

“Your father would smite me if I called you anything else. Does it look like I want to get smited?” she joked.

“It’s smote, and he wouldn’t smite you, though I will if you keep calling me that,” I groaned at her insistence on titles.

“Komawenteia, perhaps?” she laughed aloud. Her bronze hair flowed over her waist and out into the water, bathing after the latest spar. My dark locks were shoulder length and oh so dull in comparison.

“I believe that title should’ve gone to you instead, 'Long haired goddess',” I jested.

“Not a goddess, unfortunately, ‘thena”, she threw water at my face. I waited for a beat, if only for dramatic effect.

“See? He didn’t smite you. And you’re effectively immortal, Pallas, need I remind you?”

“Effectively is the key word there,” she smiled sadly for a second before lunging towards me and pulling me into the cool clear water.

“Hey!”

We learned to fight together, bronze spears flashing in a torrent of spars. We were happy. One my father was afraid, chaos knows why, and showed her the Aegis while we were fighting. She didn’t dodge. I killed her. I held her as she dissolved to water in my hands, my tears and her becoming one and running into the lake.

Part of my heart turned to stone.

I tried again, later, in the workshops of Mount Etna. It was Hephaestus, this time. We worked on projects together, he took my corrections with barely a passing glance. I cared not for his looks but for his mind. His mind was beautiful, still is.

“Athena, you missed a spot,” He said. I tossed the shuttle back and my fingers got caught in the weft. “What’s wrong? You never have issues like this. Something on your mind?”

“There’s always something on my mind, Hephaestus,” I spit out. It just wasn’t fair for me to take out my issues on him. “It’s just, my father’s pressuring me to marry. I’m not against it, but I don’t want to marry any of the other gods. They all, well, suck I guess.” An idea popped into my mind. “Hephy, if I have to marry, will you marry me?" His face betrayed his shock,

"Athena…" he began.

"Nothing would have to change! We could still hang out here in the forge, still be just friends! And I wouldn't have to marry Ares, which is a big plus," I said.

"Still, I… I can't, Soteira. I just can't," he ran a hand over his face. It felt like losing Pallas all over again.

We worked well together. He understood my lack of emotion, and I thought I had found someone who felt the same lack. Then Aphrodite came around, and he produced her a single bronze rose, one of the ones I loved so much. My chambers are still decorated with them. Aphrodite went home with him. Part of my heart turned to stone.

I tried for the last time with Love herself, Aphrodite. When I heard of her beginnings I thought that she might understand, but she was born from violence. Violence is a sort of passion. She never struggled with passion’s absence.

We watched the stars one night, marveling at creation. We never laid together, just held each other in the cold darkness.

“Aphie, will you show me what you really look like? I don’t think I can stand to look at Pallas for any longer,” I said. A twisted look passed across her face.

“I suppose,” she relented. The vision of bronze hair and blue green eyes before me faded away. Her wavy hair was brown like the earth, eyes dark like smoky quartz, skin tanned with the kiss of summer, and the most familiar curve to her lips.

“You’re more beautiful like this,” I confessed to her, “you look like home.” We were silent for hours after that and she never put back on the glamour.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore,” I spoke up, hours later. She sighed and it was heartbreaking to see such a sad look on such a beautiful face,

“I am not the Fates, Athena. I cannot give you what you so desperately desire. Goodbye, Glaukopis.” She kissed my forehead and drifted into slumber. She was gone before I woke. It would be another 1,000 years before I saw her again, and she looked like Pallas.

I cried for years. I forced the rest of my heart to turn to stone.

I’m supposed to be the fearless goddess, Athena Promachos, goddess of war. My temper runs hot enough to burn creation to ashes a thousand times over. I was born from neither love nor passion, so I can conceive neither. I’m afraid of nothing, or so I’m told.

But that’s a lie,

I’m afraid that one day the stone will eat me alive.

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crqstalite · 3 years

Text

Letters Home.

I made a mistake because this was originally meant to answer a prompt fill and then I forgot about it until now. So I tweaked it, but it still works I think.

I would rather not think about the fact the current majority of writing I've done for Lali and Joker is very angsty. That'll change, eventually, but it was begging to be written so here we are. It's a little shaky since I've written Joker himself maybe a grand total of three times but I'm happy enough with it.

Post-Thessia, minor (major?) character death mentioned. Lali/Joker.

"There's a new Blasto movie coming out, it doesn't look a lot better than the last one, but it'd be great to see with you when you're home again."

Her green eyes are still bright, her grin wide while she falls back on the collection of pillows decorating her bed. Her concerns then must've extended about as far as what was for dinner that evening, or tomorrow's assignment. Blasto wasn't one of her favorites, he knew that every time they'd watched one together, but she'd sat through every single one because it made him happy. Not that she didn't complain the entire time though.

It'd been a while since he'd been fifteen himself, but those concerns shouldn't have included Reapers in them.

"You must know about all the inaccuracies in the movies, huh? With the Council and stuff this has to be hilarious to you."

Joker isn't sure what feeling to name the one that's threatening to consume him while Hilary continues talking, rattling off that week's events. Teachers, classmates, her chores around the house.

The vidmail just seemed so normal. Everything had seemed perfectly fine when he'd checked in on them after they'd left Earth. Maybe that was an overstatement, nothing would've been fine but it was still manageable then. His father and his younger sister had intended to bunker down for as long as they had to, as long as they could while he'd promised them to try and get them off Tiptree. Nothing had seemed off. Nothing had seemed wrong. He thought they'd have time.

Six months later and he'd proved himself wrong. Time was in shorter and shorter supply. By the time he could turn his attention fully back to finding them nearly a week ago to do anything more about their situation, it'd been too late. He'd heard it over the extranet, part the long list of colony worlds flashing red every other hour. His blood had run cold while he'd hoped, prayed he wouldn't find his homeworld among the lost.

The galaxy felt like it stopped spinning when he did. In big, bright red letters, it'd said Tiptree, and he...it'd all felt like a bad dream then. That he'd look back and see it was some other colony out in the Traverse. Not his. It couldn't. It shouldn't have. It was so far outside of normal trade routes that it didn't make sense for the Reapers to seize it.

Yet they'd done so anyway. The last communications had gone out the day prior, and had stretched into silence since then. Where he'd be expecting a call today, instead his missed messages have remained dark. His 'tool won't connect to his father's, or Hilary's.

He almost misses when the door behind him opens, his hand missing the pause button on the video while he scrambles for it. He doesn't get a great glance over his shoulder, but it's enough for him to try and get his emotions back in check long enough to hold a conversation, "Shepard? Look, I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

"You've got the wrong Shepard, actually. I think." If the voice isn't enough to convince him, then the absence of anger in it does when he turns his chair to look at her. Smaller, softer, more concerned when Citlali pauses in the doorway compared to her elder sister. His girlfriend a sight for sore eyes, at least compared to her counterpart, "Sorry for scaring you, if I did.

"You didn't. Just, thought she was making the rounds again. And holding a grudge against your commander doesn't really bode well for you, as I've found." He can't find the energy to add a genuine laugh with the quip, and while Citlali smiles, it's one of the ones that's strained, "What? I feel like Alenko's walking proof of that."

"I guess, depending on how you look at it." She furrows her brow, maybe in thought, maybe in disbelief. He still can't read her very well, though it's not as if she makes it easy. Shaking off the expression, "Do you mind if I come in? You seemed...busy."

While Hilary's vid has gone quiet, he doesn't meet her eyes. The distraction might be better than nothing, even though he'd rather spend his time alone, most likely watching the last handful of mails from the month prior, "If you want to, sure. Did you need anything?"

"No. It's just...quiet around here. Thessia's on everyone's mind and it honestly feels too constricting." The door closes behind her, "If you're worried, Kodelyn's with Liara right now. I don't think she's going to come back up here for a while."

"Oh good. That'll probably give her time to cool off." Refocus her frustration with Thessia back towards comforting, always seemed like it fixed something in her. He might've been out of line, but he hadn't been expecting for her to explode at him like that. It seemed too out of character, and he hadn't been able to accurately predict it. The longer she spent doing anything else was probably extending his lifespan. Shepard wasn't predictable, but she rarely played the stereotype of the short-fuse Commander.

"Cool off?" Citlali quirks an eyebrow, "Was she mad at...you?"

"Surprising, I know."

"Weird. What'd you do?"

"Nothing." He says habitually, then sighs, "I don't know. Rough day for obvious reasons, she wasn't doing so well and I probably didn't make it any better."

"Oh." Citlali cringes, "She wasn't too upset with you, was she?"

"Probably not with me specifically. I just ended up as collateral damage."

"Collateral -- Never mind. She'll probably apologize when she's feeling more like herself. If she ever does." Her tone wavers at that, uncertainty on the other end of it, "Are you okay, though?"

His silence answers it for her. What does he say to that? Fine, only that I found out my home might be ashes and the only family I have left might be gone?

Well, he probably could.

"Sure. Fine."

Her smile's shaky, "Are you really fine, or are you just trying to get rid of me?"

"Never, I love spending time with you. You know that."

"Uh-huh. I'll suspend my disbelief, but only because you're sweet," She frowns at that, padding over to sit in the empty co-pilot's chair, turning it to face him, "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. You don't have to lie to me though."

"I'm not. Just dealing with...everything. All of us have our off days." The screen blinks when he turns back to it, Hilary's expression still frozen in one of amusement. His chest grows heavy again, this one was dated a day before the Reapers came through. This vidmail, the one like so many others that'd come before it, was one of the last ones he'd ever have of her.

And when he received it, he hadn't thought anything of it. He wouldn't go as far as to say he'd taken the ritual for granted, but he'd thought he'd receive another one. And another after that. He was careful to watch every one, and send back another as soon as he was able. His had gone unread.

"Fair enough." Citlali leans back, blissfully oblivious, "Long day. Maybe way too many things happened all at once."

"You could probably say that again."

"I'll refrain from repeating myself." She chuckles, "Can't wait to get back to the Citadel. The rest this crew needs is probably ticking up towards absurd."

"That bad in your professional opinion?" He asks, "I'd thought we were doing just peachy. Y'know, with the Council trying to absolve themselves of guilt and the galaxy crumbling around us."

"Thank God for night clubs." She responds, leaning back, "It just feels tenser than ever. Can't shake the feeling we're getting towards the end of whatever this is, and it's making everyone jumpy."

"Probably, yeah. Hopefully it'll be longer than a day or two when Shepard's done with Horizon. It'd be nice not running from Reaper forces day in and day out."

"Too exciting for you?"

"Everyone has their limits. just seems like there are more of them than ever lately, and they all want a piece of us." That much is true. The other half is that he wants a chance to search. Search the Citadel, search the surrounding systems. Maybe Hilary would be with the refugees, and he just hadn't found her yet. Maybe she'd lost her 'tool. They'd never been great at remembering each other's codes.

One hell of a time to forget, if she was out there, all alone and surrounded by the unknown.

Citlali turns her gaze towards the front window, then to one of the screens in front of him from what she can see, "Thessia-related matters aside, if you're willing to share, who's that?"

He hesitates, trying to find an answer while his throat tightens around his words. All he can do is send a picture of Hilary over to her screen. She halfway smiles when she receives it, one of her out in the yard during his last leave. Yellow sundress, celebrating the first day of summer, "Friend? Family? She looks just like you. Same grin and everything."

"Family. Younger sister, actually."

"Aw. Looks just like you." Citlali smiles, "What's she like?"

"Like any little sister, I guess." What was there to say? Why is he looking for adjectives to encapsulate the sister he loved, and why is it so difficult, "Smart, kind, practical joker sometimes. Occasionally gets on your nerves, but you love her too much to stay mad."

"As all siblings do. Feel like she'd be fun to have around. Guess you missed out on the curly hair gene, huh?"

"Had it when I was younger."

"Is she looking to follow in your footsteps? A pilot just like her brother?"

The lump in his throat almost doesn't let him answer her, and he plays with the bill of his hat, "Maybe. I don't think she ever really said anything about it."

"Big shoes to fill, I get it." The smile fades slightly when he doesn't follow up on it, "Where is she now?"

His voice is raspy when he tries to talk again, "I don't...really know. I don't know if she even still is."

Her face falls, furrowing her brows once she realizes, "I- Jeff..."

"Evac orders were sent out to Tiptree a couple of days ago. No news since, only that a handful made it...somewhere. Liara didn't say where." The orange lights in front of him start to swim in the water collecting in the corners of his eyes, "I don't even know if she made it offworld."

There's a flood threatening to burst behind his eyes, delicately held back for the last few days just by sheer will. Just the thought of the planet being turned into Earth, Palaven, Tuchanka...hell even what he saw of Thessia turns his stomach.

They didn't live that close to any major city, but they still would've been at risk if they sent any husks out that way. Any of the other grotesque monsters they'd seen lately.

Had she been looking for him? When it'd all happened, had he missed her call while they were in FTL? Just by a split second.

The thought of one them getting their hands on her, one of the sweetest girls in the galaxy who'd done nothing but act as a ray of sunshine in his life, it kills him to think about.

His hands are wet, he doesn't even realize until he hears Citlali's boots against the ground behind him. Her eyes are searching his face when she kneels down next to his chair, holding out her arms halfway in a silent question.

He accepts a moment later, wrapping his arms around her. She hugs him back, a quiet whisper on her lips when she returns the gesture, "I'm so sorry."

The dam breaks.

Big jade eyes that match his, a grin she lamented about every other day. The figurine he'd brought back for her, the Normandy, on her nightstand just in view.

What he'd give to see her again. Hear her voice again.

The galaxy crumbles away, tears streaming down his face.

"I love you, Jeff. I miss you."

#joker #lali/joker #oc #original character #veloker #jeff moreau

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anarmorofwords · 3 years

Text

so because of all the music talk today I thought i'll finally share my Matthew playlist, ft. a selection of some particularly fitting lyrics etc. - inspired by @itsjusta-j-really's format I'm just putting them under the cut (also because there's A Lot)

warning: many songs on this playlist deal with heavy topics, such as addiction, suicidal thoughts etc., so please keep that in mind

also, you might cry, I'm not sorry

gonna tag @thepictureofsdr @underestimatedgenius too because you like Matthew so maybe you'd be interested

false confidence - Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see// You're here for a reason but you don't know why (...) Don't let those demons in again// I fill the void up with polished doubt, fake sentiment// Surrender yourself

redemption - Father, help me, do you understand?// All my life, I've been a wicked man// Show me mercy and comfort me// I need to find redemption (...) I've never been this far from peace// I'm disappearing out of reach again

achilles come down - I'll just say read this post

spirits - I got guns in my head and they won't go// spirits in my head and they won't go (...) I'll be a dreamer 'til the day I die// and they say, oh, how the good die young?

I'll be good - I thought I saw the devil, this morning// Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue (...) My past has tasted bitter for years now (...) I've been cold, I've been merciless// But the blood on my hands scares me to death// Maybe I'm waking up today

comfort crowd - This hurt that I'm holding's getting heavy// but I'ma keep a smile on my shoulders 'til I'm sweaty (...) Telling you, "I'm fine I don't really need nobody"// but you say through a sigh// that I said that lie already

broken - If you see the boy I used to be// could you tell him that I'd like to find him// and if you see the shell that's left of me// could you spare him a little kindness *sobs*

dancing with the devil - It's just a little red wine, I'll be fine (...) // twisted reality, hopeless insanity// I told you I was okay, but I was lying

when you wash your hair - You did some things that you forgot// drinking wine and smoking pot// you tried to be someone you are not

the fire - 'Cause I've been a devil, I've been a saint// somebody help me, I can't change (...) Ashes in the cold, now I'm running toward the fire// (Runnin' toward, runnin' toward the fire)

mad world - all around me are familiar faces// worn out places, worn out faces (...) And I find it kind of funny// I find it kind of sad// the dreams in which I'm dying// are the best I've ever had

four - *inhales**cries* In this game of hide and seek// I can't help but think that ordinary has swallowed the key// bodies fashioned out of dirt and dust// for a moment we get to be glorious (...) Maybe my heart needs to break to be sure (...) I lost my balance when I needed it most (...) I'm stuck swimming in shadows down here// it's been forever since I came up for air

unsteady - Mama, come here// approach, appear// daddy, I'm alone// 'cause this house don't feel like home (...) whoa, if you love me, don't let go// Hold, hold on, hold onto me// 'cause I'm a little unsteady

ready to go - Jackie's just 17, and hard to please (...) You don't know what she's seen, or where she's been// The devil's dancing toe to toe// when the reaper comes, I'll be ready to go

the show must go on - The show must go on, yeah// inside my heart is breaking// my makeup may be flaking// but my smile, still, stays on (...) another heartache, another failed romance, on and on// does anybody know what we are living for?

tortured soul - Whiskey taste is on my breath// part of me is scared to death// what if I told you the truth? One more sip for a tortured soul// your diggin' my heart in deeper hole// and a thousand thoughts going through my mind

icarus - look who's digging their own grave// That is what they all say; you'll drink yourself to death (...) Icarus is flying too close to the sun// and Icarus' life, it has only just begun (...) Standing on the cliff face, highest fall you'll ever grace// it scares me half to death// look out to the future, but it tells you nothing

perfect places - every night, I live and die// feel the party to my bones (...) meet somebody, take 'em home// let's kiss and then take off our clothes (...) meet somebody, take 'em home// let's kiss and then take off our clothes

sinners - I'll be drinking late with you// until the morning comes around (...) Yeaaah, I must be good for something// yeaaah, yeaah, yeah// oh sinners come down, come gather 'round (...) Drinking gin and dropping lines// wasting beats in this heart of mine// until the morning comes around

monster - If you knew the truth, you'd probably hate me// (...) I need a fight// I've got you, in my sights// only one of us will make it out alive// I'm turning into a monster // My tongue is a weapon and I'm locked and loaded (...) Delirium takes over me// you're just another casualty

play with fire - Insane, inside the danger gets me high// Can't help myself got secrets I can't tell (...) Fire, fire // I've always liked to play with fire// oh, watching as the flames get higher

monster - Ever since I could remember, Everything inside of me, Just wanted to fit in (oh, oh, oh) I was never one for pretenders (...) Everything I touch isn't dark enough// If the problem lies in me

#matthew fairchild #the last hours #tlh #spotify #lol anyway this playlist is pain but i love it #chain of iron #chain of gold #the shadowhunter chronicles

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ghostxofxartemis · 3 years

Note

May I have John/Ashely at a party for the Kissing Prompts, please? If you're still taking them?

Of course you may! I always love writing these two cinnamon buns!

Available on AO3 | From this prompt here... inbox always open just let me know it’s from this list.

The After Party

Ashley's arm was wrapped around Shepard's waist, as much for supporting him as it was to be in close proximity to him; his arm was wrapped around her shoulder. The last month and few weeks had been long and agonizing. The recovery from surgery, the physical therapy, the psychological exams he wanted to scoff at, all had been so taxing on John. He was a man of action, he couldn't sit long enough without feeling agitated. He needed to move. And hospitals had a way of making sure you did just the opposite.

Now, as they walked back to the Normandy, a huge grin on his face, he was happy. The war was over, his girlfriend, his crew… family were all okay, and here he was, taking command of his ship once more. The thought excited him. There was just something about being out there in space, helping and protecting others he found so rewarding. He ran his hand against the hatch door.

"Skipper?"

"Hmmm?" He looked at Ashley, their smiles met, but there was concern in her eyes.

"Thought I lost you there for a moment. You okay?"

John's smile widened. "Everything is perfect’" he said as he brushed his lips against Ashley's forehead. He really meant it.

“I could use a drink. I do believe there is a freshly stocked bar down on the crew deck.” A coy smile tugged at Ashley’s lips which only caused John to laugh as they walked to the elevator lift.

“I do believe we have a score to settle. I mean… I did save the Galaxy, so that gives me a few points towards being the best human Spectre… but if you do want me to drink you under the table tonight…” He half-smirked. Ashley rolled her eyes, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ow.” He complained slightly, as he rubbed his ribs with his hand. Ashley snorted as she pressed the button to deck three.

“Oh suck it up, princess, you’re fine.” Ashley rolled her eyes.

“You didn’t…?” He wasn’t sure he had heard right.

“Oh! I did!” Ashley gently shoved him out of the lift and towards the lounge.

The door whooshed opened as they neared it, Shepard was immediately greeted by the crew who had gathered and already started drinking. He was surprised to see even Jack and Miranda had made their way in here.

James raised his glass, “Hey hey, the man of the hour is here!”

Traynor was the first one to get up from where she sat on the ledge of the couch to come give Shepard a hug. “Welcome back, Commander!”

“It’s good to be back,” Shepard said as he let go.

Cortez was standing at the bar; he popped open the champagne bottle pouring it in glasses.

Miranda was the first one to take up a glass. Amused, Shepard chuckled as he and Ashley approached the counter to take a glass themselves. Miranda was usually the last person to loosen up.

“Still trying to be normal?” He smirked.

“Starting to get the hang of it,” Miranda mumbled with a sheepish look as she reached for Jack’s hand and intertwined their fingers. Shepard arched an eyebrow, his smirk now turning into a full grin. Boy, did he ever call it. Though, he never had expected for them to act on their feelings.

Jack punched him in the shoulder. “Shut up, Shepard!”

“Should start a dating service, Shepard. The Normandy seems to be a hookup site rather than an Alliance vessel,” Tali said as she sat on the bar tool. She grabbed the tripled filtered Turian brandy and poured herself a glass.

“You’ll be the first to know, Tali,” Shepard quipped as he reached for a glass of champagne.

“I’m good,” she said as she gulped down her drink through her ‘induction port’.

“Never mind that. Cortez, line up some shots will you. Reaper metal asses have been sent back to whatever black hole they came from. Time to fucking party!” Jack demanded.

~n~

The bar was littered with all types of different glasses. Shepard had lost count of how many shots and drinks he had, but one thing he was certain about, he felt a lot better than most of the crew. Courtesy of Cerberus upgrades. He could definitely confirm they were still intact and fully functioning. Catalyst be damned for lying to him.

Ashley had met him drink for drink until she felt like the contents were coming back up rather than staying down, so she admitted defeat to their challenge, which she didn’t take too lightly.

A couple of the crew members were snoring away on the couch, some had called it a night and headed to the crew quarters. While others still danced away to the blaring music in the middle of the lounge, others were playing poker at the table, or gathered around the bar for more shots.

It had been a good night. It was certainly nice to see everyone let their hair down, so to speak, knowing that there wasn’t a battle waiting for them the next day. For the first time in over three years Shepard actually felt relaxed.

Shepard was in the middle of taking his shot when Ashley came up behind him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders.

“Ash, you want one?” Cortez asked her.

“Nope. I think we can all say Shepard can drink me under the table.” She shook her head, her eyes a little wild, unfocused. She was slightly unsteady on her feet. Shepard chuckled.

“For that, he can give me a dance though,” she wiggled her brows.

“Ash…”

“Just one. Come on.” She tugged at his arm, and he acquiesced following her into the middle of the room.

Ashley wrapped her arms around his neck, his around her waist.

“I don’t really care for the dance. I just wanted you for a moment,” Ashley whispered in his ear.

“Impatient are we?” He chuckled as he leaned in closer to her.

“Just a little,” she admitted as she started closing the distance.

“Is that what I’ll get to look forward to everyday?” Shepard quipped.

“Maybe.”

“I don’t think I mind at all,” Shepard said as he closed the distance between them, planting his lips on hers as they gave in to each other. His hands travelled up her waist to eventually rest on each side of her face to keep her from pulling away. He wanted to keep feeling her soft lips against his for as long as he could. Knowing he had to behave in front of the crew drove him crazy. So many things he wanted to do right now.

Ahsley’s lips parted his as she bit down on his lower lip, pulling it between her teeth before she pulled away.

“I don’t think I mind either, sir,” she said coyly, as her eyes showed all the intent behind her words, before closing the distance once more.

Pulling away, Ashley took his arm and winked at him as she led him out of the lounge.

John smirked, he guessed he wasn’t the only one after all with such thoughts in mind.

#Shepley #John Shepard #Ashley Williams #Post-war fluff #Post-Reaper War #recovery from extensive injuries #party to celebrate victory #finally getting the happily ever after they deserve #bardofheartdive

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