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#that killing the gods is a Bad Thing To Do
the-barefoot-hatter · 19 hours
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Party Billiam AU Origins!
there's so many bill-goes-back-before-things-went-bad-but-knows-everything fics, but what IF it was Ford-with-future-knowledge?
But Ford isn't a god, what can he do to stop Bill? Can't kill him, can't trap him, can't risk him running off to someone else for portal building. The only thing he can really do is- seduce the seducer first! Nudge him away from evil plots with sweaty nervous dates! He is definitely emotional-ready for this!
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yanderemommabean · 3 days
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Hey It's been a while
First, I just want to apologize for being gone as long as I have. Things got to a heated point at home, and I had to postpone my move until August while facing some health concerns.
Im finally out of that god forsaken house. But it wasn't easy. They cornered me, and I cried for six hours trying to just hold on until the next day when I could go.
Im so so so fucking sorry I havent been able to be on here. I know you all must have been worried sick, and I should've at least made some update posts, but Ive been stressed as all hell in my new home trying to get insurance figured out so I can get insulin, trying to get a job for rent and Sammy's meds (he got diagnosed with heart worms, and im devastated at how long it's been going on so we're trying like hell to get him better, ive been up days in a row worried sick about it while waiting on job offers and its killing me).
I got to take Pixie, and she got checked out too and I havent heard anything, so that's good! I've been sick and trying to figure everything out, and was just not able to write like ive been wanting to. I had to leave behind one person i really didn't want to, who unfortunately is stuck with my family, and its also been eating at me.
I'm alive, just stressed and sick and trying to heal from abuse and the shock of not being yelled at for being sick and scared and making mistakes.
Again, Im so sorry you guys. I should have tried to update at all, I've just had so much going on and so much sickness. I am so grateful to have you guys at all, and the sweet messages you sent me made me smile when I finally logged in and read them.
I can't guarantee an everyday post like I usually used to do, but I'm going to try and at least be back more than I have been! I love you beans. I'm so sorry for the radio silence. Everything came to a fever pitch and has been nonstop trying to get settled in since I finally got away, which was the end of August. Before that, I was sick, unable to stand up without passing out, and barely eating because the abuse was so bad that staying in my room and starving was better than any interaction. I wont go into too much detail but the abuse was another large part I didn't want to post. Just bed rotting and hoping time would speed up to get me out of there.
Anyway, this was a terrible ramble, I'll hush, but thank you all so much for your messages, and im happy to be back! Even if just a bit at a time for now until im more settled in <3
Much love!
-Mommabean
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shanastoryteller · 2 days
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Meg is the first choice, of course, but she’s not suited to this type of long term mission and they all know it. The problem is, almost none of them are. The nature of the beast, she supposes.
That’s why it ends up being her, in the end. Well, it’s almost Ruby, but there’s one thing she has that Ruby doesn’t.
How she ended up here in the first place.
She thought Clyde loved her. She thought he’d take her away, from her father and her terrible life, and so when he died too young, before he could fulfill any of his promises, she’d sold her soul to bring him back.
But he hadn’t kept a single promise. She’d died in her father’s house.
“You remember being in love, don’t you?” he asks, cruel in his callousness, which is different than his other types of cruelty. It’s all he has, shining out in a thousand different ways. “You’ll be better at faking it.”
All she does is fake it.
“Yes,” she says.
This mission gets her topside. It’s worth it for that alone.
~
She slips into a pretty blonde named Rebecca first but by the end of the day, the girl’s screaming has given her a headache, and she slips right back out. She’ll probably just think she had a bad trip.
He’d offered to arrange something for her, but she wanted to pick herself, and she’s not interested in having someone crying and moaning in the back of her mind. But it’s not like there are a lot of options.
She could kill one, of course. But she’s never – she hasn’t been topside, before. Everything she’s killed before had already been dead. So she hovers for the next week, looking for some sort of opportunity, for something she can use that’s not going to scream at her.
The day before she’s going to have to either pick someone or risk being sent back, there’s a car accident.
The girl’s heart is still and her body’s warm, blood pooling down her head, but that’s nothing she can’t fix. She settles into the body, jumpstarting the heart and can feel the skin on her head knitting back together. It’s also blessedly, thankfully silent, with her the only one inside this body. The driver who hit her is dead and people are crowding in, a crying girl pulling her free. “Anne! Anne, are you okay, oh my god, I can’t believe that happened-”
She wrinkles her nose before smoothing out her expression.
The name will have to go. She’ll say she’s reinventing herself after tragedy, or something, but she’s not going to walk around responding to Anne. That’s not her name.
Anne’s a sophomore, which isn’t ideal, but she’s beautiful and doesn’t have that many friends and barely talks to her family, so she’s actually perfect.
She’s also blonde.
She’d been blonde before too.
~
All the demons who had run these sort of missions before give her advice, tell her things that will help her. Some of their assignments had lasted months, but no one’s tried to do it for as long as she’s supposed to.
He likes smart girls.
Be confident. Be flirty. He’s shyer than he looks.
He never had a mother. He likes it when girls take care of him.
He likes to take care of girls too. He wants to feel useful.
She’d had dreams, before, of all the ways she’d could escape her father. It wasn’t common for girls to get more than a basic education, but she’d been smart. She could read and do complicated sums and enjoyed the quiet evenings when she balanced her father’s books. She’d thought she might like an advanced education, thought it could get her out of her life, but hadn’t known how to manage it.
Clyde had seemed easier. More attainable. More realistic.
She’d sold her soul for nothing in the end. She hadn’t even got the full ten years of her bargain.
She doesn’t know how much of their advice she can take.
She can be smart, but considering the school they’re at, all the girls will be smart. She hadn’t been confident or flirty, which is maybe why she’d latched onto the first boy who smiled at her. She never had a mother herself and doesn’t know to act like one.
She’s never been taken care of and doesn’t know how to do that either.
There’s no way for her to do this. She’s going to be replaced and sent back below and he’ll be angry at her and she hates hates hates when he’s angry at her, what he does to her.
“Are you okay?”
She looks up, something cold on her tongue, but falters.
He’s standing there, warm hazel eyes and long dark hair, hunching to try and make himself smaller, and a smile on his face that does nothing to hide his concern.
“Do you ever feel like,” she starts, her dead stolen heart beating too quickly, “everything is falling apart around you and you have no idea what you’re doing and like maybe your whole life is one huge mistake?”
Well, fuck. She’s definitely being replaced now.
Except Azazel’s favorite throws back his head and laughs, smile stretching into a grin. “Every day of my life, more or less.”
“How do you deal with it?” she asks, scrubbing a hand over her face.
He shrugs. “Well, my brother would say women and liquor.” He seems to realize how that sounds a moment later and he pales, “Um, not that I’m – I’m not saying, I wasn’t trying to. He’s just sort of a cad, and – I wasn’t trying to, with you, uh.”
She feels herself softening in spite of herself. “So you’re not one to apply that method yourself?”
“No,” he says firmly, eyes wide. “God, I’m just – I’m sorry. I – I’m Sam.”
“Hi Sam,” she returns, with a smile she doesn’t have to fake. “I’m Jess.”
~
She’s not supposed to fall in love with him.
She’s to worm his way to his side. She’s to keep him from running back to his family, to keep him from rebuilding the bridges he’s burned. She’s to keep him distracted and focused on her until his powers activate and then she’s to guide him into using them, to be supportive and loving and to push him straight into Azazel’s arms.
Sam loves his family so much.
He talks of his brother all the time. His father less, the emotions there more tangled, but love no less fierce.
She nudges him away from it, talks to him about how it’s normal for families to grow apart, to say that they’ll understand when he graduates, that he’ll show them they type of man that he is.
By the time he graduates, his powers will start manifesting, and he’ll avoid his family without her prodding. He knows what they’ll think of him, then, and Jess tells herself that she’s helping him. That this is for Sam’s own good.
If he’s with her, then he’s safe. His father won’t kill him while he’s safe at school. He can’t kill Sam for powers that he’ll never know about.
It’s easy to dig into the anger for his father, to use his last words to Sam as a way to hold him at her side. His brother is more difficult. Jess doesn’t do much with that, in the end, tells herself that it would be too complicated, too suspicious, and as long Dean is sticking with their father it amounts to same thing anyway.
The truth is more complicated.
His father will kill Sam if he has to.
She doesn’t think that his brother will. She thinks that maybe he’d choose to protect Sam, over their father’s wishes, over everything he’d been taught, no matter the consequences.
She fears that she and Dean have a lot in common.
She invites Sam over for holidays, makes summer plans with him, holds as much of his attention as she can manage.
She studies and makes friends and laughs and spends so much time with him, but not all of it. It has to be believable after all, has to be constant, in a way that it didn’t have to be with all the other demons sent to take care of him.
Jess lives a life that had been denied to her and tries to do what she was sent to do and does the one thing she was definitely not supposed to do, which is fall in love with Sam Winchester.
~
His brother shows up in their apartment and she knows that she’s going to lose him.
Sam tries to act angry, but she knows him too well. He’s moving around his brother like a flower following the sun and she asks him not to go, tries to find the words to keep him here, but they all get caught in her throat. If she begged, if she threw a fit, if she demanded it of him, he would stay. He’d tell his brother he’s sorry but he’d stay with her and not help him and burn their relationship for good. He loves her enough to do that for her. She knows it.
She loves him enough not to make him.
He kisses her and she knows it’ll be the last time. He doesn’t.
“What did that take, five minutes?” Azazel is right there, breath on the back of her neck, and his anger fury rage pressing down on her even closer. “Over three years at his side and you lost him in five minutes. What a waste.”
“I kept him for over three years,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady, but knows she fails.
She had him for over three years.
“Not good enough,” he whispers, lips on the shell of her ear. “Guess I’ll have to send Meg in after all.”
Pain erupts hot across her stomach and her screams mix with his laughter.
~
Love always burns her in the end.
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Anon: How would yan chuuya, jouno, light, megumi and gojo react to a darling that just doesn't care that they're yanderes?
I already did a similar concept with Chuuya before but I added him nonetheless because I wrote this with a darling in mind that is even fine with the Yandere killing
Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, isolation, murder
Tags: @maggiequinn59 @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @lovley-valentine7
Darling doesn't care that they are obsessed
Yagami Light
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✍️Light takes the information very well, a pleased grin on his lips when he realises that none of the things that he does seem to bother you. It’s a sign of submission from your side, something that could only ever please a man with a god complex like he has. This is how it should be after all. You should know your place and love him utterly and completely for the perfect being that he is. Light has done some terrible things in the name of his proclaimed love for you, things that he believes he has the right to do as no one is allowed to steal the person away from him that he plans to keep by his side after he has become the New God. Stealing what belongs to a deity is nothing short of a sin. A sin that has to be punished with death itself. After having confirmed that his feelings for you haven’t scared you nor have some of the actions that he has committed which you were aware of, Light starts truly testing how far your adoration and your dedication go for him. He reveals his ideologies, his mission, his identity to you as well as the future he plans to have with you all whilst you remain loving and loyal. Oh, you are indeed worthy of ruling this world alongside with him. He chose wisely.
Nakahara Chuuya
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🟠Chuuya tends to let his delusional side get the better of him yet upon initial discovery that you truly don’t care about his behavior as long as he keeps on loving you and treating you well, the Executive is a tad bit concerned. Are you sure? You’re really fine with all of this? He’s in the Port Mafia, he’s killed people for you even. It’s just hard to believe that you accept all of it as gracious as you do to the point where Chuuya wonders if you’re trying to trick him. That distrust remains for a while even if you give him no reason to doubt you. Paranoia is rarely soothed by logic after all. Once Chuuya has been convinced that you truly mean it when you say that you don’t care about his obsession he gets undeniably more delusional though. If you don’t mind his obsession after all he can’t possibly be as bad as he thought he was. He starts indulging in his obsession for you more and more as you basically give him a free pass, asks of you to move in with him so that he can protect you better all whilst spoiling the living shit out of you. He doesn’t really have to hold himself back as much anymore which leads the Executive to turn his possessive behavior up quite a bit. You won’t mind after all.
Jouno Saigiku
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♦️For Jouno this knowledge is a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hand you are easier to deal with, don’t throw any tantrums which could get on his nerves and show quite a level of obedience that deeply satisfies his possessive side. The composed sound of your heart doesn’t overwhelm him but sometimes he also finds himself getting bored. Don’t forget that this Hunting Dog is still an utter sadist after all who would love to listen to the melody of your frantic heartbeat once in a while. After all it’s quite unspectacular for you to be so monotonous with your behavior and your acceptance all of the time. As much obedience and acceptance you may give him after all, it is all for naught if Saigiku doesn’t have control over you by having you fear him. Loyalty and love are not enough in his mind, not if there isn’t fear that weights you down and has you carefully thinking about every stupid decision you might make. The sadist inside of him is truly talking out of him with this desire yet Jouno never attempts to restrain his actions. Since you’ve already taken so well to everything that he’s done so far he’s sure you won’t mind learning how to be a bit scared of him~
Fushiguro Megumi
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💙Megumi’s silent paranoia has led him to justify his overprotective and somewhat overbearing behavior most of the time yet there is a shred of awareness still left somewhere inside of him. It is this last shred of sanity that is the only thing letting him know that you shouldn’t think this way, that you should be scared of him. Perhaps you’re trying to trick him? Something holds Megumi back from believing you when you first admit it to him, almost accusing you of trying to fool him so that he lets his guard down. The moment you manage to convince him though that you are speaking the truth the last shard of awareness shatters and leaves him thoroughly led by his paranoid and overprotective instincts. Of course he trusts you. It’s everyone else that he doesn’t trust though. So you two better spend time alone with each other where others won’t be able to bother the two of you. When he isn’t with you, try not to leave the house. If you do, please contact him and let him know where you are, what you are doing and when you are back home again. No, he isn’t overbearing and overprotective. He only wants to ensure your safety, wants to know you’re safe.
Gojo Satoru
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🩵Gojo totally eats your behavior up as soon as he knows that you really don’t mind his overbearing, clingy and paranoid attitude. This man has no restrains to begin with as he never holds his affection back but everything becomes even more gross for the people forced to watch as soon as you indirectly give him the free pass. The man is thrilled, constantly smothers you in love and presents and he quickly pushes this relationship to move in the direction he wants it to go. You quickly find yourself moving in with him as it takes him little to no time to convince you, you find yourself spending an almost overwhelming amount of time with him as he gets quickly jealous when you pay attention to others as his possessive and needy nature quickly cages you in. You’re compliant, you’re sweet and you love him for the person that he is which only pushes Gojo to cling tigthter and tighter to you. He finds comfort in you, he finds his peace when he’s with you and he only confines his pain and his feelings to you. You know him. You understand him. You love him. For those reasons he will never let you leave him nor will he ever let anyone lay a finger on you.
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aethon-recs · 2 days
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This Week in Tomarrymort (12 – 19 September 2024)
Hi everyone, so sorry this is a couple of days late this week! Will be back on the normally scheduled time next week!
As with last week, please feel free to add a little overview/summary about your update to the notes! I so enjoyed reading all the notes last week 🤍
(And in case you missed, a recap of the extra notes from last week!)
Ills of Murder by @shadow-of-the-eclipse (E, 37k, WIP) [source] "Harry comes in swinging from a bleak version of sixth and seventh years, fully intending to kill Tom. Unfortunately it seems the only people Tom and Harry are incapable of killing is the other. Harry's on attempt 4 and counting and this time he gives up on spells and decides to punch Tom Riddle's nose off. Tom's still utterly enamoured with him." friend of the devil (a friend of mine) by @shyinsunlight (E, 11k, WIP) [source] "When after four long years Harry and Tom meet again, the world turns upside down. Or maybe it was upside down all along, and it’s now flipping back over." These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain (M, 23k, WIP) [source] "Things have gone from bad to worse, and Harry is finally about ready to take matters into his own hands…even if it means defying the normal laws of Magic and actually doing something for himself for once. (Guess which one will be harder for him 😂) In this update, Harry and Voldemort unexpectedly come face to face for the first time since the Dark Lord's death…which leads to a disturbing realization for Harry." Anytime, Anywhere, Always by @moontearpensfic (E, 13k, WIP) [source] "A Harry-corrupts-Tom AU: Tom expects to feel victorious at his greatest enemy's confession. Instead, he develops a crush on him." the crushing weight of cancelling your fav by @cindle-writes (M, 4k, complete) [source] "Tom Riddle has made millions and built a cult following around his politics-themed online stream, much to his boyfriend Harry’s bemusement. However, bemusement quickly turns into concern when Harry meets one of Tom’s biggest, most fervent fanboys, Regulus Black."
Now onto the updates from this week!
*
Tomarrymort One Shots and Completed Fic
Chapter 22 (Completed) of A Shot in the Dark by Ragdolly
One Shot | The Dinner by moontear for @moontearpensfic
One Shot | There's Something About (The Way You Are) by Ragdolly
*
Tomarrymort Ongoing Fics
Chapter 12 of the stars, my destination by @milkandmoon-ao3
Chapter 1 of bad moon rising by sansaerys
Chapter 11 of Sits the wind in that quarter by @mosiva
Chapter 2 of a pound of flesh by @ictyn
Chapter 8 of Saint Harry by @alenablack @chaos-bear
Chapter 34 of Part One - The Solitude of Suffering by @iseliljathedreamer
Chapter 18 of Date Ideas for the Linguistically Inclined by Antique_Mango
Chapter 14 of Double-Aspect Paradox by TimaeusKosmou
Chapter 6 of God is a Wizard by @onehitpleb
Chapters 121 through 123 of Liquida Tenebris (Remastered) by @dymis
Chapter 17 of Learning to love by @l-archiduchesse
Chapter 1 of The Cosmos In Your Eyes by @v33r00
Chapter 7 of Do It Over by @thefangirlibrarian
Chapter 6 of These Fragments We've Shored by @rowena-rain
Chapter 21 of Time Stumbler by Wintumn
Chapter 4 of Hole in the Wall by tomrddle
Chapters 1 through 3 of Fetters of the Damned by @sc0rpiflow3r
Chapter 16 of Outrunning the Villain in You by @zenyteehee
Chapter 5 of midnight train by @girl-with-goats
Chapter 43 of Of Monsters, Of Men by @ca-xan-dra
Chapter 2 of the body is a blade by @lovely-lotus
Chapter 2 of Dream a little dream (of me) by @cenedrariva
Chapter 12 of Just Business by @holaolla1
*
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get some on my love
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QZ!Joel Miller x f!reader
my masterlist | joel fic recs
This is for @justagalwhowrites' Birthday Celebration for Joel. I picked the prompts for QZ!Joel and breeding kink. It, uh. It got away with me. Title from "Gasoline" by Seether because that's what made this get so feral. Please read the warnings.
dedicated to @covetyou bcus it's your tumblrversary bb! and also because of SWAT, the ultimate slutty qz joel fic that lives in my head and pays rent
words: 1.6k
summary: You visit Joel Miller to get what you need.
warnings: dub-con, dubcon due to sex in exchange for drugs, and he kind of springs the breeding kink on her (but there's not a risk), abuse of prescription medications, QZ!Joel Miller, dealer!Joel Miller, smuggler!Joel Miller, filthy!Joel Miller, breeding kink, creampie, menstrual sex, inappropriate uses of period blood, spitting, pussy pronouns (she/her), vulgar language, god i don't even know it's just nasty and they like it, kind of hate fucking, no y/n, no betas no proofreading no nothing lol
dividers by @saradika-graphics
also on ao3
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“Well, well. Look who’s come crawlin’ back,” Joel drawls when he opens the door. 
You scowl. “You gonna let me in or not?”
He leans against the frame, a lazy smirk curling. “Gee, I don’t know. You had some mighty strong things to say ‘bout me last time.” He does step back, though, ushering you in. 
“Pretty sure you said you were never gonna look at my ugly mug again,” he adds as he shuts the door behind you. 
“Yeah, well,” you mutter. 
He tips your chin up with two fingers. “Yeah, well,” he mocks. “Well, what? No one else want that sloppy pussy as payment?”
“You like my pussy, jackass,” you snap, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“Yeah, I do,” he says, cornering you against the door, your back hitting it with a thump. He leers, leaning in. “You know why it’s so sloppy? ‘Cause I fuckin’ ruined it, and you loved it.”
You scowl again, turning your head sharply to the side so you don’t have to look at his smug smirk. The worst part is how right he is. 
“Look,” you mutter, heat rising to your cheeks, “I-I can’t pay today. But I need them, bad. I’ll… I’ll make it up to you.”
It nearly kills you to say. The only thing worse than dealing with Joel Miller is owing Joel Miller. 
“Whaddya mean you can’t pay today? Cunt closed for construction or somethin’?”
You shove him away roughly, ducking out of his grasp to stalk into the living room. “No, dumbass, I’m… bleedin’, you know.”
His responding grin is feral and full of teeth. “I don’t give a shit. Go bend over the bathroom sink.”
“Are you fuckin' serious?”
“You want the fuckin’ pills or not?”
You could scream. Of course you do. There’s not a part of your body that doesn’t hurt. It’s settled into every joint and crevice, an ache you can’t stretch out or shake loose. 
You’d know. You’ve tried. But you’re losing sleep, and the pain makes you too nauseous to eat. His drugs will only take the edge off for so long, but god, you’d do nearly anything for a few hours’ respite. 
“Fine,” you whisper finally, and make your way to the apartment’s tiny three-piece. 
He follows, watching you with amusement. “Strip,” he says. 
You glare, and he shrugs. 
“Or don’t. But I ain’t responsible for what happens to your clothes.”
Oh, fuck him. Fuck him. But you strip—all the way, even though you could have left your top on, but because mother nature has you on her shit list, your usual pain is compounded when you’re menstruating. And when you’re ovulating. Really, so many women don’t even have a fucking cycle anymore from all the stress and malnutrition, but noooo, you were cursed with a fertile fucking uterus. 
The point was that your titties were sore and aching, and the thought of his warm hands groping and pawing at them sounded nice, so off goes your shirt.
He chuckles when he enters the bathroom. “Well, look at that. Eager?”
“Hurry up,” you snap. “It’s cold, and there’s gonna be a mess.”
“Gonna be a mess either way,” he taunts, his hands rough against your hips.
And ain’t that the kicker? There’s gonna be a mess. Your cunt is already sore, and he’s gonna leave a trail of destruction in his wake. 
“Don’t look so grossed out, sugar,” he says, cupping your breasts and looking at you in the mirror. “It’s all natural. Plus, I gotta say, it’s been a long time since I got to do this.”
You’re busy meeting his eyes in the mirror and pulling a face, not catching his last words. He rolls and pinches at your tender nipples, but it’s the kind of pain that sits on the right side of pleasure. As expected, his meaty hands grope unmercifully at your breasts, and you moan in relief at the free massage.
“That’s it. That’s what I like to hear. You ready for me, huh? That greedy pussy o’ yours ready?”
“Uh-huh,” you say distractedly. “Wait—”
“I didn’t forget,” he murmurs in your ear. “Open.”
You open your mouth obediently, sticking your tongue out. He sets a round, white pill on it and turns your head with a firm grip on your chin, his spit landing right on the pill.
You swallow and avert your eyes as he watches your reflection.
“Get on with it,” you rasp.
One hand wanders down between your thighs and strokes through the folds, working you open with two thick fingers scissoring side to side. He doesn’t spend long there, dragging them up to rub at your clit for a moment.
“Make some fuckin’ noise; I can’t tell if you’re wet or not with all this goin’ on,” he grumbles, withdrawing his hand and showing you the slick blood coating it.
You wince, and he laughs. “Y’ain’t scared of your own period, are ya?”
“Fuck off, ‘course I’m not. Doesn’t mean I wanna look at it.”
He grins. The expression is always unnatural on him and usually heralds something vulgar.
You’re not wrong. He brings his hand up to cup your breast, leaving a smear of blood on your tit. 
“Somethin’ kinda hot about it, don’tcha think?” he muses.
“If you say so,” you mutter, but you can’t look away. It’s striking, blood against your skin that isn’t borne of violence.
The thick tip of his cock interrupts your thoughts as he pushes down on your shoulder. You bend, gripping the sides of the vanity as he buries himself inside with one slow thrust.
He groans, gripping hard on your shoulder. “S’better than lube.”
“You’re so gross,” you say, shaking your head.
“Yeah? Then why’re you clenchin’ around me like a goddamn vice, huh?”
“You always talk this much when you fuck, or am I special?”
“Oh, sugar, don’t flatter yourself,” he says with a slap on your ass. “Y’ain’t special.”
“You—ahh—you hate-fuck all your customers?”
He snorts. “You ain’t even special enough to hate, honey. And you can hate me all you like, but we both know you’re gonna keep comin’ back.”
As you scowl up at him in the mirror, you almost wish looks could kill. But he’s right. He’d be no good to you dead because no other dealer in this godforsaken QZ will dose you in exchange for sex.
As it is, he only lets you once a week. You need more than that? Gotta pay like everyone else. Even when you can afford it, you find yourself back here or on your knees or however he wants you every fuckin’ Friday, because a free pill is a free pill. It’s 3-4 hours you can nap without nearly killin’ yourself to afford it.
Today’s pill hasn’t begun to set in yet, but that’s the other thing about Joel. He’s good at making you forget.
Real good.
His hands are on your body, roughly gentle. He’s not careful with his touch, but not careless, either. He wants you to come, wants you to shake and fall apart on his dick, so he can flash you that little self-satisfied smirk borne of bravado he’s rightly earned. 
And you do. You come for him, with his hands on your breasts and your clit. You tremble and moan and your pussy tries to stake a claim on his cock, clenching and hoping to never let go. But it will, and you will. In the end, you always let go.
He’s a different kind of beast tonight. Panting and grunting in your ear, teeth on your neck, sweat dripping and blending with yours. After he’s rung pleasure from you, he settles one hand on your hip and another on your shoulder and ruts into you like a jackhammer. Like he can’t get deep enough, can’t stop until he’s carved a spot for him within you.
“Yeah, that’s it,” he mutters, pushing you down further. “Fuuuck, darlin’, you want this, huh? You want me to fill you up?”
“Wh-what?” you gasp, air knocked from you with each punch of his cock against your cervix.
“Gonna fill you up good, gonna—nnng— gonna make it stick.”
You reach back and smack him. “The fuck are you—” 
But he doesn’t let you finish. He holds on tight and grinds his dick deep. “That greedy pussy, sugar, she fuckin’ wants it. Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna fuck this pretty little pussy ‘till she’s full o’ me. And you’re gonna take it, right?”
You whimper, holding tight to the sink while he loses his fucking mind or whatever is happening. You don’t know. It feels too good to question.
“Thas’ it,” he rambles. “Gonna look so good, stuffed up, and ev’ryone—everyone—will know you let me fuckin’ breed you.”
Oh god. It shouldn’t be hot. Those words should be stopping your heart, you should be pushing him away, but your dumb cunt has a mind of its own and holds tight to him, each thrust of his cock squelching as you come around him again. 
“Jesus, baby, it’s been too long, too long since I got to fill up a cunt like yours,” he groans, hips stuttering, “oh shit, take it—fuckin’ take it.”
His cock pulses inside you, and you think maybe you die and go to heaven for a little bit—just a little, because when you open your eyes, you’re still in Joel’s grimy bathroom—but there’s a sweet moment where you think he’s right. It’s been too long. Far too long since a man’s come undone inside you, let you feel that hot burst and twitching, it’s divine, it’s—well, it’s making you come again. 
When he pulls out, you stumble right to the toilet, glaring at him as you try to clean up the mess before it happens. “Gross,” you grumble.
When you look up, the way he’s looking at you makes somethin’ awful churn inside, and it’s not just the apparent buckets of cum he filled you with. 
The silence between you is thick. Finally, he jerks his head to the shower. “Get cleaned up ‘n get out,” is all he says, and the door clicks shut in his wake. 
124 notes · View notes
larluce · 2 days
Text
Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16 , PART 17 , PART 18 , PART 19 , PART 20 , PART 21 , PART 22 , PART 23 , PART 24 , PART 25 , PART 26 , PART 27
In Merlin's chambers.
Merlin: (pacing, anxious and worried)
Gaius: (enters)
Merlin: (turns to Gaius quickly) How is he? Is he going to be okay?
Gaius: (serious) The King had a seizure, but he's stable now. He should be awake by tomorrow morning.
Merlin: (sighs in relief) Thank the gods!
Gaius: Now sit down (takes Merlin to the bed and sits him) I need to check your bruise.
Merlin: There's no need. It's not serious.
Gaius: (sharply) I know. But these are Prince's orders. (Checks Merlin's cheek) It's a bit swollen, but you'll live. (Puts ointment on the bruise) This should do. Now... (Very serious) What happened?
Merlin: (ashamed) I... I think I pissed him off so bad he collapsed.
Gaius: I figured, Merlin. Uther hit you. It's not difficult to put two and two together. What I need to know is WHAT did you do to piss Uther off so bad he collapsed.
Merlin: (more ashamed, mumbles) I...deny but-then he-and I...
Gaius: Merlin I need every detail, word by word what exactly did you tell the King, so I can find a way to defend you.
Merlin tells him exactly what happened and Gaius hears every word patiently, even when he feels the need to yell at Merlin every 30 seconds for how insolent and reckless Merlin had been.
Gaius: (after Merlin finishes) Alright... There's no way to defend you.
Merlin: What?! 😰
Gaius: You did not only defy the King's authority and raise your voice at him, you mocked him and insulted him! What were you thinking?!😡
Merlin: I don't know! I did what you said: deny, be submissive, be respectful, but he still believed I was guilty and then he said he would send me away from Arthur and I just... got mad!
Gaius: You should've been grateful Uther just wanted to send you away! You'll be lucky if he even grants you a quick and painless death now! You think that Uther is Arthur and will put up with your disrespect? He is the King!
Merlin: I know! I just.. forgot it for a moment. (sighs) I'll pack my things.
Gaius: Why?
Merlin: You said there was no way to defend me, so I'm leaving, like Uther sentenced.
Gaius: (lets out a dry laugh) You really don't get it, do you?
Merlin: (confused) What?
Gaius: How bad you really messed up! (stands up abruptly and moves his hands around as he talks in distress) When I told you'll be lucky if Uther grants a quick and painless death now, I meant it! Everyone thinks you tried to kill the King! And, honestly, I don't blame them. You were alone with the King when he "fainted" and have a fighting mark on your face. If I didn't know you, I would've believe it too. And you do realise that's the worst crime someone can be accused of, right?
Merlin: (pales) But I didn't-And Uther knows I-
Gaius: You think that with how paranoid he has been he won't think you provoque this seizure on him on purpose?
Merlin: ...
Gaius: Once Uther wakes up, you'll be enemy of the crown. You'll be hunted down so bad, not even outside Camelot you'll be safe. And when they get you... (his voice wavers, not able to say it, and sits on the bed again, defeated)
Merlin: But... I'm sure Arthur can do some-
Gaius: Arthur! Even he understands the gravity of the situation more than you do. Do you know where is the prince now?
Merlin: Looking after his father. Where else could he be?
Gaius: ...
Merlin: That's where he is, right?
Gaius: ...
Merlin: Gaius, where is Arthur?
Arthur in a reunion with all his Knights.
Arthur: I won't force you to participate. If your loyalty lays more with Uther than with me, I completely understand. He is still the King after all. But I need to know who will be on my side.
Merlin: (enters) Arthur! (runs to him)
Sir Innprudence: (murmurs) The apple of discord has arrived.
Sir Leon: (hits him, whispering) Silence!
Merlin: Tell me is not truth. Tell me you are not planning to overthrow the king!
Arthur: Alright, I won't tell you.
Merlin: Arthur!
Sir Ewan: (murmuring) Like he didn't plan this from the beginning.
Sir Leon: (whispers) Really? You too?
Sir Ewan: (whispers back) Is his fault we are about to do a rebellion! To think we defended him. But now we know what he is. A poisonous snake-
Merlin: You can't overthrow your own father, are you mad?! I won't let you!
Sir Owain: Listen to him, Sire!
Sir Ewan: Yes, he's talking nothing but reason!
Sir Leon: (whispers to Ewan) Didn't you just say he was a poisonous snake?
Sir Ewan: (whispers back) What are you talking about? I'd never talk bad about The Unicorn Catcher.
Arthur: Don't be ridiculous, Merlin. I'm not really overthrowing my father.
Merlin: You are not? 😧
Arthur: You think I'd take my father's throne by force when he's unconscious and therefore incapable of defending himself in any way? That's not just treason, is dishonorable!
Merlin: (sighs in relief)
Arthur: This is just a back up plan.
Merlin: A back up plan?
Arthur: Yes, my first plan is to try to talk him out of executing you as soon as he wakes up. If he forgives your life, everything will be solved.
Merlin: ... And if he doesn't?
Arthur: That's what the back up plan is for. 😊
Merlin: ...
Knights: ...
Sir Innprudence: Rebellion it is.😔
Merlin: You can't be serious. Arthur, you know Uther won't forgive me!
Arthur: (in denial) Don't be so negative, Merlin. I can try to persuade him. It might work.
Merlin: Arthur-
Arthur: This is just a last resort! If he doesn't see reason, I'll challenge him into a duel-
Merlin: Arthur-
Arthur: If he doesn't accept the duel, i'll ask the court for their support-
Merlin: Arthur-
Arthur: And if I don't have enough support-
Merlin: (shouts) You won't have it! Why would the court help you save the life of a servant? Especially one that is suspected of trying to kill the King! You can't ascend the throne this way. Your legitimacy to the throne will be questioned and your reputation ruined! It's outrageous enough that you are even considering this. He is your father!
Arthur: (shouts) I WON'T LET HIM TAKE YOU FROM ME!
Merlin: ...
Arthur: For years he made feel unworthy of his love. He made me feel guilty for my mother's death since I was a kid. I did EVERYTHING to get his approval. I trained hard, I isolated myself with tones of books, went to quests, I killed in his name! And then what does he do? Insult me, hit me, imprison me and take every piece of happiness I have! He sacked my first nursemaid because she was too soft on me, he killed my first hunting dog because I was getting too attached to it. "Don't show weakness Arthur, why are you crying Arthur? The darkness of the dungeons scares you? Stop acting like a baby, you are turning 8 tomorrow!"
Merlin: (covers his mouth with his hands, wide eye)
Kinghts: (just as shocked) ...
Arthur: I tolerated him a lot of things. But not this. Not with you. I won't let him take my happiness once more!
Merlin: (thinking in awe and emotional) He... he considers me part of his happiness? 🥺
Arthur and Merlin: (get lost in each other's eyes)
Knights: ...
Sir Innprudence: (coughs) Well, the rebellion is not going to make itself.
Leon: (hits him with his elbow and mutters) They were having a moment! (aloud) You can count on me, Sire.
Sir Owain: And me!
Sir Ewan: And me!
Sir Innprudence: Yeah, we already escaped the dungeons. What's another rebellious act?
Leon: (lifting his sword) For the love of Camelot!
All Knights: For the love of the Prince!
Time skip. In Gaius Tower.
Merlin: (enters, very serious)
Gaius: Did you convince the Prince of not doing the rebellion?
Merlin: In fact, he convinced me.
Gaius: What?
Merlin: Did you know Uther put Arthur in dungeons as a punishment when he was 8? Or should I say since?
Gaius: ... Where is this coming from?
Merlin: (barely contained anger) You knew, didn't you? You knew and you didn't do anything!
Gaius: I did what I could! I can't very well confront the king about his parenting methods, Merlin. Unlike you, I know my place.
Merlin: Parenting methods? That's abuse! He was just a child! And I... (thinking) I never noticed. Those times Uther sent Arthur and Morgana to the dungeons, I just assumed they were isolated cases. But they were routine for them. How much did I actually miss in my other life?
Gaius: Uther wasn't the best father, I won't deny that. But does he deserves to lose his crown for that? Besides, this is not just about him. A rebellion will put the life of many at stake. Blood will be spilled. Do you want that on your conscience? On Arthur's conscience?
Merlin: No! Of course not. But if Uther hasn't been a shitty father, Arthur's mind wouldn't be as set as it is now. He killed his dog for gods' sake!
Gaius: What does that has to do with anything?
Merlin: Arthur is not doing this because of me. Apparently this was just the last straw. (thinking) Though it's odd he never reacted like this in my other life. He never thought of doing a rebellion when Uther wanted to kill Gwen. And Arthur always thought high of Uther even years after he died. What changed to make Arthur stop idolizing his father so soon?
Gaius: The last straw? YOU were the last straw! 😡 You and your audacity, your boldness, your lack of self-preservation-
Merlin: I get it, I get it. This is all my fault. You can scold me and ground me all you want later. Now we need solutions. How can we stop Arthur from doing the rebellion?
Gaius: Honestly, Merlin, sending you to talk him out of it was the only hope I had.
Merlin: (thoughtful) Hmmm... Maybe... there wouldn't be a need for a rebellion if...
Gaius: If?
Merlin: (hesitantly) Uther weren't to wake up?
Gaius: (escandalized) Merlin! Are you suggesting to kill the King? 😱
Merlin: No! Never! I wouldn't do that to Arthur! But you must admit it would solve a lot of thing-
Gaius: Shut your mouth! You are speaking treason! Those words alone could get you hanged!
Merlin: I'm pretty much dead now, Gaius. But you're right, I shouldn't joke with those things. (thoughtful again) What can we do?
Gaius: (brings a hand to his chest) You're going to make my heart leave my body one of these days, I swear.
Merlin: (gets an idea) Leave! That's it! (makes a move to leave)
Gaius: (stops him) Where are you going?
Merlin: I'm going to pack my things and leave Camelot. 😊
Gaius: You think running away from your problems is going to solve anything?
Merlin: No, but it'll keep Arthur busy.
Gaius: ...What?
Merlin: Here's the plan. Hear me out. Arthur told me he didn't want Uther to take me from him because I'm part of his happiness. (smiles a little, blushing)
Gaius: Really, Merlin? This is not the time for blushing.
Merlin: I'm not-It's good to feel appreciated sometimes. Anyways, this means Arthur cares enough for me to look for me if I'm gone, right?
Gaius: I would say that more than enough, actually, but yes.
Merlin: So if I leave and hide, Arthur will be too busy trying to find me that he won't have time to organize his rebellion. There, problem solved!
Gaius: That's your great plan. Playing hide and seek with the Prince.
Merlin: Yep. 😊
Gaius: Yes, he'd probably go nuts looking for you, just as he probably would speed up the rebellion in the hope that you will return as soon as the threat is over.
Merlin: ...
Merlin: Okay, I didn't think of that.
Gaius: (sighs)
Merlin: You are not giving me many ideas either, Gaius!
Gaius: Well, for now, I'll do the only thing I can. (picks up a potion and starts leaving)
Merlin: What are you going to do?
Gaius: (defeated) Delay the inevitable. To buy you some time.
Merlin: (keeps looking at Gaius, confused)
Gaius: (sighs) I'm going to drug the King. (leaves)
Time skip. Emergency reunion in Morgana's chambers with Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot.
Lancelot: Arthur even asked me to join the knights in the rebellion.
Gwen: He seems pretty determined, Merlin. Reasoning or trying to sweet persuade him is not going to make him change his mind this time.
Merlin: I know, I tried. (sighs) There must be something we can do!
Morgana: (enters) Sorry, I'm late. Someone had to look after Uther. (gives Merlin a look)
Merlin: (guilty) Morgana-
Morgana: Don't. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen. And I don't blame you, truly. If I told you all the times Uther made me lose my temper.
Merlin: Yeah, the difference is no one would ever believe you tried to kill the King because of that.
Gwen: There are still many Unicorn Catcher defenders between the servants if that's any consolation to you.
Merlin: It is not. (to Morgana, hopeful) You think you can convince Arthur of not doing this?
Morgana: You think I haven't tried? I even told him he would hurt Uther less if he killed him in his sleep rather than force him to fight his own son in battle, that he was being a monster by doing this, but he went all "this is the honorable way" and all.
Merlin: Perfect. Unless Gaius can sedate Uther forever, we are screw.
Morgana: Have you tried seducing him? 😏
Merlin: This is not time for jokes, Morgana. 😒
Morgana: (thinking) It would work if you weren't so blind to Arthur's feelings. 🤦 (sighs and says) Fine. What about crying to him?
Merlin: Morgana, this is serious!
Morgana: I am serious! How do you think I survived Uther's strict education for so long? Crying was my way to get away with some things with Uther and avoid or reduce some of his punishments. Of course it stopped working when he realised I was faking, but my point is: Pendragons are weak to tears and Arthur is not the exception. When I first came to the castle we didn't get along well. Arthur was jealous that I had all of Uther's attention and believed he was softer on me than him. He wouldn't swordplay with me no matter how much I asked, so what do you think I did?
Merlin: ...Cry?
Morgana: I cried so hard Arthur panicked and gave me his own sword to play. There was also this time some nobel kid made me cry and Arthur kicked him in the crotch.
Gwen: Oh, I remember that! It was so funny.
Lancelot: So you are suggesting manipulation, my lady?
Morgana: I wouldn't call it manipulation. I would call it... Plan T!
Merlin: Plan T?
Morgana: T of using tears as a way to presuade Arthur.
Merlin: That's manipulation!
Morgana: Well, we're running out of options. Besides, I sincerely believe that it can work. It's very easy, just look. (purses her lips and then her eyes begin to water, until tears run down her eyes and then she cries uncontrollably)
Merlin: (worried) Morgana?
Lancelot: Are you alright, my lady?
Morgana: (suddenly stops crying and wips her tears) See? 💁‍♀️
Merlin and Lancelot: (totally shocked) ... 😨😨
Gwen: (claps) You are so talented my lady! 😊
Morgana: It's easy. You just have to hold your breath, gag with your mouth closed and then just focus on the burning in your eyes until your eyes water and, finally, you let out all the frustration in the form of tears. Once you master that, you go to Arthur like this: (goes to Gwen and kneels before her, holding her hands. Then she starts crying all over again) "Please, Arthur, stop this! It's all my fault!" (hits her chest rugly) "I've caused all this. If blood is spilled because of me, I couldn't live with myself. (clinges to Gwen's legs) If you do this, I... I'd rather... disappear!" (faints)
Merlin: ...
Lancelot: ...
Gwen: (amazed) She's good, isn't she? 😃😁
Lancelot: I'll never trust the tears of a woman ever again.
Morgana: (stands up and turns to Merlin) See? Just like that.
Merlin: Yeah, I'm not doing that.
Morgana: You have to! If Arthur notices your anguish he will reconsider.
Merlin: Why don't you do it then?
Morgana: I did and he just sent me to Gaius. The problem when you use a trick too much is that people start to build up immunity to it. Besides, this is something Arthur would expect from me, but he would never expect it from you. With you he'll really be struck down.
Merlin: But... I don't want to lie to him. (thinking) No when I can help it.
Morgana: Technically you wouldn't be lying. You feel guilty, don't you?
Merlin: Of course I do!
Morgana: Then you'd just be amplifying your feelings! Now... (pulls Merlin and puts him infront of Lancelot) Lets practice. Imagine Lancelot is Arthur.
Lancelot: What? 😰
Merlin: Morgana this is ridiculous.😒
Morgana: Want to stop the rebellion?
Merlin: Yes, but-
Morgana: Then cry to Lancelot. Now.
Merlin: (sighs and tries to use Morgana's technique, holding his breath)
Morgana: You are forgetting to gag.
Merlin: (starts to gag)
Morgana: With your mouth close!
Merlin: (tries to do that, but fails and starts coughing)
Morgana: Okay, close enough. At least your eyes are a bit watery. Now kneel and hold Lancelot's hands.
Merlin: (kneels before Lancelot and holds his hands)
Lancelot: (puts his hands away in reflex, scared)
Gwen: Lance!
Lancelot: Sorry. My survival instinct. Do we really have to hold hands?
Morgana: Yes, we have to make this as realistic as possible.
Lancelot: And the Prince won't come in at any moment?
Gwen: The doors are closed and Arthur is too busy with this whole rebellion thing. You are safe, love.
Lancelot: (blushes a little at the use of the nickname) Alright (holds Merlin's hands, though he's still tense)
Morgana: Now, Merlin, your lines.
Merlin: (uncomfortable) Uh... Please, Arthur. Stop-
Morgana: No! You have to do it with more emotion!
Merlin: (raises his voice) Please, Arthur! Stop this! Is my fault (pats his chest)
Morgana: That hand, with more force! You're desperate!
Merlin: (hits his chest harder) I've caused all this!-
Morgana: The tears! where are the tears?!
Merlin: (tries to do Morgana's technice again but ends up doing a weird face) If blood is... spilled... I.... I can't live with myself...
Gwen: Now he looks constipated.
Morgana: The legs! Hug his legs!
Merlin: (hugs Lancelot's legs awkwardly)
Morgana: Tighter! You'll die if he doesn't change his mind!
Merlin: (hugs tighter)
Lancelot: (thinking, trying not to panic) Arthur won't come in, the doors are closed, Arthur won't come in, the doors are closed, Arthur won't come in-
Merlin: If you do this I'll... ARGH! I CAN'T DO THIS! (stands up, frustrated) I CAN'T CRY! THIS IS USELESS! I... (thinking) I lost my ability to cry like that long ago. I rarely cried in years and when I did I did it silently, swallowing my tears. Not even when I believed Arthur would die I cried like this. (Says, sad) We're doomed. The rebellion will happen, people will die and it will be all my fault, because I always ruin everything somehow! Maybe the problem all this time was me. Maybe Arthur would be actually better if I just didn't exist!
Gwen: ...
Lancelot: ...
Morgana: There! You have to hold to that emotion when you cry to Arthur.
Merlin: Didn't you just hear me? I CAN'T CRY!
Morgana: That can be arranged.
Time skip. In Gaius' tower.
Merlin: (enters) Gaius.
Gaius: How was your reunion? Did you find a solution?
Merlin: (hesitanly) I think, but... I need something... from you.
Gaius: (confused) What is it that you need?
Merlin: Do you have something there that can... make someone's eyes tear like... a lot?
Gaius: I think so, but... What's the plan exactly?
Merlin: Literally cry my way out of this.
....
Will Merlin be able to cry to the prince? find out in the next episode of "Merlin: the apple of discord"
Also credits to my best friend Rosangela, who gave me most of the ideas for diolagues in this part and others too.
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @hopeaha , @curiously-lazy , @ harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @cute-girl-next-door , @bogslob , @tkmaras
122 notes · View notes
all-pacas · 2 days
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OKAY. 13 AND CHASE IN AFTER HOURS THO
The fact that when 13 needs help, she calls Chase. Why does she call him? Why doesn't she call someone else? She needs someone to deliver her a portable ultrasound, and okay, you could argue Foreman is a bad call because he's her ex and would pry. That House would just refuse. Taub would have been a good pick tbh, he would drop it off and just go home no questions asked. But no, she calls Chase
(And I love that call. "You doing anything?" "Oh, yeah, I'm just about to go out," Chase lies blatantly, asleep in bed with a book on the crusades on his chest. Like the loser he is. I don't know that it was done well but I love how S7 examines his Dumb Whore tendencies: it isn't really him, it's a rebound. He does it again when he gets stabbed.)
And of course the second he shows up he immediately sees through 13's excuses and pushes his way into the apartment. Because we love Chase's observation skills triumphing over his laziness.
13 tells Chase the prison backstory. Like! It's kind of glossed over. She hasn't told this to anyone else. She doesn't hide it. I killed my brother. It wasn't murder. Chase is just pacing, you just know he's twigged as hell, he's so anxious all at once as she tries to brush past it. The idea that 13 kind of had to tell him to explain Darrien's presence but she's also — House is the only other person who knows.
CHASE: Have you talked to anybody about it? I mean, are you okay?
Like we know this immediately triggered something in Chase, but 13 doesn't, and seeing him so anxious and pacing and ignoring the bleeding dying woman as 13 works, it's just. Incredible. It's good. He cares immediately, he's relating to this immediately.
But I love seeing them work together. Like they just immediately go in sync, Chase offering suggestions and 13 doing the work. They're just. It's nice.
SIDE NOTE: House says he called everyone before he called Cuddy. We see him call 13 and Taub. Chase is off picking up drugs, we don't see House call him, but like. He had to have called Chase first, right? Did Chase not pick up? Did he blow him off because he already was dealing with someone bleeding to death in someone's apartment??
The way they fight oh my god. The way 13 just is trying to fucking murder Chase. She punches him, she claws and shoves him, and then he just clocks her and stares horrified as she falls to the floor. Like it's an actual fight, it's brutal, it's so good. They hurt one another. I can't explain it but I love how brutal it is, that they both walk away with bruises, that it isn't pretty. Incredible. Amazing scene.
CHASE: You were defending your friend beyond all rationality, granting her the right to die in your bedroom. Was it really all because of a promise? 13: That word means something to some people. CHASE: Not that much. […] CHASE: You promised your brother you'd euthanize him and you think you won't feel bad about it as long as you can blame it on the promise. That's why you have this twisted obligation to keep all promises… or your carefully constructed defense mechanism could crumble down. 13: I saved my brother from a lot of pain.
!! Chase keeps bringing it up, he keeps bringing up her brother, not out of I can't believe you did a murder or I can't believe you went to prison but: you must hate yourself. He's calling her out on her coping mechanisms, he's calling her out on her guilt, and it's so fucking clear what he means is I get it but he's not saying that part. 13 killed her brother and now has to believe she did the right thing, no matter what, no matter how she feels. She's taking away her own agency: it was for a promise, it was his decision, she had nothing to do with it, it's fine, it doesn't feel bad. Chase killed Dibala and told himself it was for the greater good, it was morally just, it was the right thing to do, it doesn't feel bad. And it nearly destroyed him. And so he's pushing and pushing at it. He never goes 13 went to prison! he never goes it's so crazy you did that! Whenever he brings it up it's only in the context of how worried he is about her. Has she spoken to someone? Is she coping? Is this healthy? Is she okay? He's so worried. He cares so much.
I adore 13 and Chase running out of ideas with Darrien and calling dad. Most sibling coded of all time. Just. And the fact that House doesn't allude to also being in the hospital, actively bleeding and in pain, just, yes, we gotta help bail you two idiots out. Beautiful moment.
Chase getting 13 ice and coffee and still feeling guilty for punching her out, and 13 not blaming him at all. Like. You know. Don't beat people up. But in this one case I totally approve. Because I love it.
13: Darrien had to shoot that kid. It was the right thing. Completely justified. But it didn't matter. She destroyed her life trying to forget. I'm afraid that's what's gonna happen to me. CHASE: You really should talk to someone. 13: I've talked to a therapist. It didn't help. CHASE: Well, maybe you should talk to someone who isn't a therapist. 13: Do you really think you have any idea what it's like to live with something like this? CHASE: Let's grab a coffee.
Since the second Chase found out, this is what it's been leading towards. I love that he doesn't answer, he doesn't say a thing, but this is what he's been thinking all episode, why he's been pushing, why he's been so worried and caring: talk to me. Tell me you're not okay. Tell me everything isn't fine. And 13 holds it back until the end of the case, until it's over and she has no distractions. It's not at all clear Chase himself has talked to someone about Dibala, btw. He probably hasn't.
And how insane is that. He never told Foreman or House; they figured it out. He told Cameron: she left him. (Imagine being 13, hearing this. Realizing the timeline. She went to their wedding. What did she think happened when Cameron just … left? How quickly does she figure it out now?) House told Chase to talk to someone, Chase tried Confessing, but whenever he's tried to tell anyone it's gone terribly for him. I don't think he has talked to anyone. But he repeats House's advice to 13: talk to someone. (Talk to me.) He's offering her what he never got. And their situations are different, hers is much more sympathetic and easy to accept than his. Chase never goes I never got help or you have nothing to feel bad about or implies he doesn't think it's a big deal: his entire reaction is just empathy. He wants 13 to get what he didn't get, he wants to help.
The song that plays over the end of the episode is Bon Iver's Flume. And as much as you can apply it to House, and Cuddy, and Wilson, and all of that — it's a song about feeling isolated, feeling alone and being afraid of letting go. Of holding on to things that stain and hurt. The lyrics that play while 13 and Chase are having their coffee in the conference room, though:
i wear my garment/so it shows now you know
And I just! I love! Them! The ways 13 and Chase are so alike and so damaged, the way Chase reacts with empathy and care and wants her to have what he didn't, the way they know one another's secrets and worst moments and rely on one another so easily. 13's secrecy is a meme, in and out of universe, but Chase is absolutely no better: he won't even admit he's Catholic when talking to a nun. They're private to faults, they mask by sleeping around and taking risks and pretending not to care, they hide their hurts and then somehow, they punch one another in the face and know everything. I'm just. I'm so obsessed with them. I want them like this always.
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merp-blerp · 1 day
Text
TW: Discussion of sexual assault and suicidal ideation
I've been seeing some debate about Calypso and whether or not she sexually assaulted Odysseus and I want to throw in my two cents.
I'll say straight out of the gate that I don't currently like her much. I feel pretty icky about her personally.
Comparing Ody's behavior in Epic prior to "Love in Paradise" vs during the song feels so... clearly different. He seems very traumatized by whatever has been happening on that isle. It almost feels out of character for him to consider dying instead of fighting to get home alive like he had been, but putting myself in his shoes I can see how he came to that through what's textually known. He has been trapped on that isle for 7 years—that's nearly a decade, with no way to get out, everyone he knows and loves dead or far away with no way to know where he is or if he's alive. While I obviously would never think that's a good decision, I can see how he got to the point of wanting to end it. And if he's been sexually assaulted like he was in The Odyssey, I understand it more due to how that can warp a person's mental health.
I've seen some say, "Calypso is just a sweetie who doesn't know how to love properly" (paraphrasing of an actual comment I've seen). Even if she really just doesn't know how to care for a mortal, as many of the gods seemingly don't, I think she understands her power over mortals with her "Bow down now to the immortal Calypso" comment. She also understands that Odysseus doesn't want her, with the first part of her response to Ody's threats being "Oh handsome, you may try". She knows that he may try to escape by killing her (even though she can't die). Honestly, why would she feel the need to trap him if she didn't know good and well that he would want to escape her? She knew what she was doing was something that would make him want to run. Calypso being a goddess automatically gives their dynamic a power imbalance of course. Even though the assault is only implied, the fact that she's trapping Ody against his will, super infatuated by him, and still says "Soon, into bed we'll climb and spend our time", makes me feel like the indication is clear. What's stopping her from trying to have "sex" with him (sex isn't sex without consent)? She's already ignored all his declines. She seems to think that forcing her "love" onto him will make him love her. Yes, she uses lovey-dovey language so I doubt it would've appeared violent, but sexual assault doesn't have to look violent and the perpetrator doesn't have to appear aggressive. It's telling that I've seen some say, "Save that energy for Antinous" because Antinous is much more obviously bad, but this kind of thing isn't always obvious. That kind of assault is still extremely traumatizing whether it's sugarcoated as if it's love or not. It's dismaying that some reactions to Calypso bypass her potential assaulting or "She's weird, but she seems to care for him!" And since the sexual part of the assault is technically subtext (for now, who knows about later), I'll say that even if Calypso didn't sexually harm him, she still forces physical and verbal intimacy onto him and traps him so he can't leave. We see that. That's still assault. The only reason why I don't feel similarly about Epic's version of Circe is that her intent wasn't to have sex with Ody but to distract and throw him off with talk of sex so she could stab him as he's vulnerable; Circe never wanted to have sex with Ody in actuality. Calypso's intent was romantic intimacy and she didn't care if Odysseus said no, she completely bypassed it. Calypso saying "You're mine, all mine" feels as threatening as Circe's "I've got you" was meant to be.
Anything can change between now and the next two sagas. It could either be fully confirmed or denied that sexual assault took place. I actually don't expect either, as I don't think Jay would go too deep into such a traumatic concept in Epic, but then again I also didn't expect suicidal ideation to be brought up at all and it absolutely shocked me when it was, so I could be wrong. But whether it's confirmed or not, I don't blame any Epic fans who don't like Calypso or even hate her over what she did and what it's implied she did. It's icky watching some fans tell others they shouldn't hate Calypso because of this or that as if this isn't a sensitive and complex topic. It's creepy. I don't think we should tell people not to hate a character associated with sexual assault. The sexual assault might be subtext, but subtext is important and sometimes is implemented intentionally. Not every part of a story is going to be given to you at face value. Just because "Epic didn't say that" doesn't mean that the implication doesn't matter. People interact with stories in different ways, so you can disagree with others—no one can take that from you, but you don't get to tell someone they can't feel a certain way about a character. I don't like saying this because I really shouldn't have to put it in this perspective for it to be understood, but I can't help but feel like if Calypso and Ody's genders were swapped some people would treat this implication differently. Sexually or not she hurts him.
Normally I don't like taking lore from The Odyssey and automatically applying it to Epic, as Epic has changed a lot of rules from The Odyssey because Jay wants to tell this story his own story. For example, I personally choose not to assume Eury and Ody are brothers-in-law in Epic like they are in The Odyssey because that hasn't been stated in Epic so far. But to me, the implications of Ody's sexual assault are there enough for me personally to think that it might take place in both stories. Jay seems to want Epic to be accessible to many people, so it doesn't surprise me that this element of The Odyssey was brought up in a more subtextual/"hinted at" way.
Calypso is a very interesting character, maybe the most out of all the Epic antagonists so far for me, but we don't have to think of her as not doing anything wrong in order to enjoy that character, her songs, her cute physical character design, or Barbara Wangui's beautiful voice.
[The remainder of this post contains potential spoilers for the unreleased (to date) Vengeance Saga under the cut]
Another defense of Calypso I've seen is that in the snippets for "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You", Ody says he loves Calypso, but not in the way she wants him to. This could mean they're friends and therefore doubt about the sexual assault could be cast.
It's hard to assess this because the saga's not out yet, but it's worth remembering that abuse can come out of care, in a complicated way. You can care for someone so much you end up hurting them, usually out of wanting to control them. Calypso seems to fit that concept. And most Epic snippets don't give full context, naturally, so who knows why Ody says this at the moment. Maybe he means it, or maybe he's bluffing to guarantee he'll get what he wants (which is to be set free in this instance), like when meeting Athena, or to appease a god, like when "apologizing" to Poseidon in "Ruthlessness". And of course, victims don't have to hate their perpetrators if they choose not to. Odysseus can care about Calypso and she can still have hurt him really badly. Both of these things can be true.
The way I read it, Calypso doesn't love Odysseus like she thinks she does. She's infatuated by him and cares for him enough to not be obviously cold like all the other obstacles Ody faced initially are. She declares that she loves him as soon as he wakes up on her isle without knowing him at all. She didn't even know his name. The washed-up person on her isle could've been anyone and she likely would've "loved" them. Calypso only loves Ody because he stops her loneliness, not for who he is. When she begins to state that she loves him she doesn't even know him. Over the 7 years, she seems to have potentially gotten to know him a bit, saying "I know your life's been hard", but Odysseus himself asserts that she doesn't really know what he's been through. You can call someone (against their will, let me remind you) "my dear, my love for life" all you want, but that doesn't mean you love them. Ody's her first companion in years if not ever, of course she cares for him on a basic level. She won't kill him or let him jump off a cliff. But she doesn't love him or treat him like a human and obey his boundaries and wants. She treats him like an object or pet she owns and has to guard.
In "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You" Calypso says that Ody is all she's ever known because she was abandoned. It's understandable that she would latch onto a living creature after being alone for so long. But that's not necessarily love, at least not to me. If I love someone I wouldn't bypass their refusal to do something. And I wouldn't trap them with me and not let them go, even when they're about to jump off a cliff because they see no way out. I'm not sure if Calypso means to bring malice, she at least says she "bring(s) no pain", but she does regardless or if she intends to. Calypso hasn't had anyone in her company, let alone someone to love, for so long, maybe in her whole life. That's why she doesn't know what love is, so of course when she catches fickle feelings for Odysseus she assumes that's love and has no clue what to do with her "love", as she admits in "I'm Not Sorry For Loving You". Calypso's actions are understandable, but that doesn't mean they're excusable or not abusive. What she does to him is understandable, but selfish and only serves herself, which isn't what you do to someone you love. Note that the way I use understandable here does not equate to forgivable, it just means conceivable. And her apology to him really waters down the magnitude of her actions, saying she "pushed" him, "came on too strong", and that her love might've been "too much" for Ody.
I apologize for this being such a long rant, but I wanted to cover all the excuses for Calypso I'd seen and speak my mind on why I think they're misguided at best.
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carnelianly · 21 hours
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hi bae i recently followed you and i love every single thing you’ve posted,,, idk if this is a safe space but… like hitting art… him letting you and telling you he loves you and kissing you after
omg this is definitely a safe space babe let’s talk about this!!
hi this is my public service announcement that this is not a healthy relationship dynamic and you not ever put your hands on your partner. that is not okay irl unless there is expressed consent. this is also a very romanticized depiction and theoretically there should be more discussion and communication okay okay, end scene and with that out the way->
the first time you hit art being during an argument. you slap him after he says something a little too provocative, because art’s always been the type to say things to try and get under your skin when he’s mad. like he’s trying to get you to react and be the bad guy, stoop to his level.
but you slap him for saying something just a little bit too out of line, and the whole argument comes to a screeching halt as he stumbles back, holding his cheek in his hand as he looks down at the floor, and then back up at you in fear. he’s petrified.
and you just look baffled with yourself, not even realizing that was something you were capable of. you look down at your hands, like you didn’t know they could do that, and then back up at him.
he gulps. he thinks he’s in for it. but there also a weird feeling he can’t quite place. there’s that rush of adrenaline he got from the hit, and that bubble of shame welling up in his stomach.
he doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but it kinda felt good to watch you lose your temper, for you to break and fall from that pedestal he puts you on, and to see you for what you are. and you look hot when you’re angry. for a good second there he thought you were gonna kill him, and it was horrifying, sure, but.. god, is he getting hard?
he’s definitely lightheaded, standing there completely still, as if if he didn’t move, you wouldn’t notice that he’s getting turned on from the fact that you just hit him. you slapped him. you hurt him, god it stung so bad, why is he so fucking turned on from it?
“art?” you murmur, not wanting to cross the distance yet, “i… i’m so sorry, i.. can i get closer and take a look?” you sound unsure, tense, like you’re afraid that he’s upset at you. of course you’re worried, but he can’t help that it’s a hit to his heart. you’re worried that you’ve just ruined everything and he’s biting his lip trying to keep in the horniness.
he nods at your question, and you come closer, tentatively reaching out to pet his cheek, “oh.. oh baby, i’m so so sorry, i.. i really didn’t mean to do this. that doesn’t change what i did, but—“
“hey,” he cuts you off, trying to ease your nerves, “i’m not mad at you. we’re okay. you’re okay. it didn’t hurt that bad, just for a second there it stung.” and you sigh, closing your eyes.
art never told you how hard he came jerking off in the shower that night. he couldn’t have asked for sex right then and there, you were so frazzled and distracted and it wasn’t the right time, but thinking about how mad you looked for him going until he came so hard he was seeing stars.
a couple weeks later you’re making out with him on the couch, lips on his, straddling his lap, before he gasps out, “slap me,” his words move past his lips in a daze, he doesn’t even realize he said them until it’s too late.
you pull back, brows furrowed, “…what? uhm.. art, if this is some kinda joke—”
“no, baby, i.. i mean it.. please hit me, like last time. it was so hot..” he whispers, leaning in to kiss your neck delicately, “please, baby.”
and he eventually gets you to oblige, a good amount of begging usually works on you. so you slap him again, and he moans this time, surprising you both, but there’s something so hot about how his face contorts into pleasure when you slap him.
you lean back in to keep making out with him, and your hand brushes his cheek sweetly, as if apologizing, but he doesn’t need that. he needs you to hit him again and again until he gets dizzy.
and this begins the cycle of passionate make out sessions being routinely interrupted with a slap on his cheek or some other form of pain like your nails digging into his skin, carving moons into him.
and every time, without a doubt, he looks up at you with the most pleasure-filled look in his eyes and he mouth hanging open as he smiles slightly, whispering, “i love you,” even as his skin tingles from the aftermath. and when you lean back in to kiss him, gripping his face roughly, especially right over the sensitive skin you slapped, he knows you love him too.
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cece693 · 1 day
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PLEASE PART TWO OF THAT NICO DI ANGELO FIC
I'm not even a fan nor do I know anything about the PJO series but that.. THAT fic makes me wanna start reading it
Sword Fighting Pt. 2 (Nico Di Angelo x Son of Aphrodite)
Part 1 can be found here, however, you don't need to read it to understand this.
tags: love confessions, Nico being overprotective, near-death experience, takes place during The Blood of Olympus, reader is injured (badly)
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Time was something demigods rarely had, and Nico di Angelo had lived long enough to know that it always slipped through their fingers. He never planned to reveal his feelings for you, the son of Aphrodite, but as Gaea rose from her slumber and the earth itself raged in the final battle, regret gnawed at him.
He should’ve told you.
The battlefield was a maelstrom of chaos—monsters falling, demigods fighting with every last bit of strength they had left. The air was thick with dust and the stench of death, but through it all, Nico’s eyes sought you. You moved like a whirlwind, graceful and deadly, wielding your twin blades with a skill that defied your heritage.
Even now, in the heart of war, there was a terrible beauty to how you fought—fluid, precise, unstoppable. Nico's breath hitched as he watched you, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with the battle around him. He had seen many things in his life—gods, monsters, and the depths of the Underworld—but he'd never seen anything as beautiful as you.
For a moment, it seemed like the battle was turning in their favor. The monsters were thinning, their numbers dwindling under the combined might of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter. Nico’s heart pounded with a glimmer of hope. Maybe—just maybe—they had a chance.
Then it happened.
As the demigods paused to catch their breath, thinking they had won, a final foe—enormous, armored, and ancient—rose from the shadows, roaring with fury. The beast lunged, aiming straight for Hazel, its jagged weapon raised for a killing blow.
You didn’t hesitate. Without a second thought, you threw yourself between the beast and Hazel. Nico saw it as if in slow motion—how your eyes flashed with determination and your blade shone in the sun as you swung to kill the beast before a sickening crunch echoed across the battlefield. You had saved Hazel, but you had also been stuck, crumpling to the ground, your blood spilling across the earth.
“No!” Nico’s voice tore through the chaos, a raw cry filled with panic and horror. He barely felt his feet moving as he sprinted toward you. He reached your side in what felt like an eternity, falling to his knees beside you. Blood stained through your armor, dark and thick, pooling beneath your body. Your face was pale, lips quivering as you struggled to draw breath.
“Nico…” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper, eyes fluttering.
“No, no, no stay with me.” Nico pleaded, his hands trembling as he pressed them against your wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. Around him, the other demigods rushed to your side—they moved quickly, but it felt agonizingly slow to Nico. The son of Aphrodite was barely conscious as Percy and Jason lifted him gently, careful not to jostle his broken form too much.
Hazel, pale with guilt and worry, led the way back to the makeshift camp they had set up behind the front lines. It was a patch of relative calm amidst the chaos of war, but Nico’s heart hammered in his chest like a storm.
“Will!” Nico screamed, his voice tight with fear. The blond healer turned around and paled upon seeing your state—ushering Percy and Jason to lay you in an empty bed.
“This is bad,” Will muttered, his voice hushed, trying to keep his composure as he assessed your chest. He pressed a glowing hand to your wound, his brow furrowed in concentration, but he shook his head slightly. “The weapon must’ve been enchanted—it’s deeper than it looks, and it’s not healing like it should.”
Nico’s throat tightened. “You can heal it though, right? You have to.”
Will glanced at Nico, his expression shadowed with doubt. “I don’t know, Nico. This kind of wound…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I’ll do everything I can.” His grip on your hand tightened as Will began his work, the faint golden glow of healing energy surrounding your body, but Nico could tell it wasn’t enough.
Hours passed, and Will pushed himself to the limit, alternating between ambrosia, nectar, and healing magic, trying everything he knew. But still, your breathing was shallow, and the wound stubbornly refused to fully close. Nico stayed by your side the entire time, refusing to move, barely blinking as he watched every flicker of your face for a sign of improvement.
The others came and went—between the battle's cleanup and burning of shrouds—they all offered words of comfort, but Nico barely registered them. His world had narrowed to the cot where you lay, your face pale and peaceful as if already slipping into the void.
Days blurred together. Each dawn brought a renewed wave of dread, as Nico feared you wouldn’t wake up. Every breath you took seemed a miracle, but it wasn’t enough. Ambrosia was fed to you sparingly, Will careful not to overuse it. Every time you twitched or murmured in your sleep, Nico’s heart leapt, only to sink again when you didn’t stir beyond that.
He never left your side.
“Nico you need to rest,” Will urged gently, exhaustion lining his own features. “You’ve been here for days. You can’t keep going like this.”
Nico shook his head. “I’m not leaving him.”
Will opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He knew better than to push Nico. The look in his eyes—dark, haunted—was enough to silence any protest. He had seen that look before, in the faces of those who had lost too much already, those who were on the edge of breaking. “Okay.” Will said softly, placing a reassuring hand on Nico’s shoulder before stepping out of the tent. His footsteps faded, leaving the ghost king alone in the dimly lit space.
Nico leaned forward, resting his forehead on the back of your hand. His body was heavy with exhaustion, every muscle aching from his own battle wounds and malnutrition, not having eaten anything in days, but he couldn't leave. Nico wouldn't. The thought of walking away, even for a moment, felt like abandonment—like if he left your side, you might slip away for good. And that…that was something Nico couldn’t bear.
“I convinced myself there was time to tell you how I felt,” Nico said, his voice cracking, each word feeling like it was pulled from a wound too deep to close. ���But now…now it might be too late.”
His breath hitched, and he squeezed your hand tighter, as if holding onto you physically would stop you from slipping away. He could feel the faint warmth of your skin, but it wasn’t enough. It didn’t feel real—none of this did. You were so still, your chest rising and falling with shallow, labored breaths. The strong, brilliant demigod he admired—no, loved—reduced to this fragile, fading presence in the cot before him.
Nico swallowed hard, the ache in his chest nearly unbearable. "I should’ve told you the moment I realized. I should’ve been braver. But I was scared. Scared that you wouldn’t feel the same, or worse—that if I let you in, you’d leave me. Like Bianca did."
The name hung heavy in the air, thick with old grief. His sister. His rock. The one person who had ever made him feel less alone—until you came along. Losing her had shattered him in ways he’d never fully recovered from, and the thought of losing you now? It was a nightmare he couldn’t endure.
“I couldn’t handle it,” Nico whispered, his voice trembling as the confession spilled out. “If you leave me, I don’t know if I’ll survive it. Not again. I’m not strong enough to go through that again.”
The dam broke, and the words came faster, more desperate. “I swear, if you die on me, I’ll follow you. I don’t care what Will or anyone says. I’ll follow you to Elysium if I have to." He pressed his forehead against the back of your hand, his body shaking with the effort of holding back tears. "I love you. I should’ve said it before. I love you, and I’m not ready to let you go."
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nico stayed perfectly still, the weight of his confession hanging between you, the silence around him thick and unbearable. Then, faintly, a shift—a movement so small Nico almost didn’t notice it. Your fingers twitched beneath his.
His eyes snapped open, and he lifted his head in disbelief. A soft, rasping sound reached his ears. “Nico…” His heart lurched. Your eyes fluttered open, bleary and filled with pain, but undeniably alive. You coughed weakly, wincing at the movement, but your lips curled into a faint smile. “I wouldn’t do that to you.”
Nico froze, staring at you as if you were a ghost. The relief hit him so suddenly that he couldn’t breathe. “You’re awake…” His voice was barely a whisper, disbelief coloring every word.
Your smile widened just a fraction, though it was strained with effort. “You didn’t think I’d leave you, did you?”
Nico’s relief was overwhelming, but it didn’t come without an edge of something sharper. Anger, bitter and cold, began to surface as he stared at you, still fragile but alive. The thought of how close you came to dying—how close he came to losing you—made his chest tighten painfully.
He pulled back, his expression hardening, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “What the hell were you thinking!? You nearly died out there!”
You blinked, still groggy but more aware now, and gave a weak smile. “Someone had to, right?” you rasped, trying to lighten the tension, but Nico wasn’t having it.
“That’s not the point!” Nico’s voice was louder than he intended, eyes burning with something between fury and heartbreak. “You could’ve died. You almost did."
Your smile widened, even as you winced at the effort. “You would’ve done the same thing,” you said, your voice hoarse but filled with that infuriating calmness. “If it had been you, and Hazel was in danger, you wouldn’t have hesitated.”
Nico froze, his jaw clenching as the truth of your words settled over him. He wanted to argue, to shout at you for being reckless and careless with your life, but he couldn’t. You were right, and that only made it worse. If the roles were reversed, Nico knew, deep down, that he would’ve done exactly the same thing.
You smirked at his silence, clearly pleased with yourself. “See?” you said softly, your voice still weak but playful. “I know you, di Angelo.”
Nico scowled, but his anger was already slipping away, replaced by something warmer, something he couldn’t quite name but felt deep in his bones. He didn’t reply to your teasing, didn’t trust himself to say anything without his emotions spilling over again. Instead, he just shook his head and muttered, “You’re impossible.”
You laughed, though it quickly turned into a pained cough. Nico’s heart clenched again, his worry returning in full force. “I don’t care what you think,” He said after a moment, his voice quieter now, but still laced with intensity. “Next time, don’t throw your life away for anyone. Not Hazel. Not even me.”
You met his gaze, your smile softening. “I won’t.” you said, though the glint in your eyes told him you were lying. Nico didn’t reply to that. He knew you too well—knew that your words were empty promises. But for now, you were alive, and that was all that mattered.
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fastboatsmojito · 1 day
Text
Some Depraved Billy Butcher Smut
This is becoming a pattern I feel - it’s been a long day forgive me
18+ Smut btc, He’s pretty mean, like shove the side of your face into the brick wall of a building mean, you’re also pretty mean to him oops, almost dacryphilia but not quite ?? His hands are filthy for sure but you let him put them inside of you anyways <3 is that true love - This is incredibly self-indulgent and nasty - LOCK ME UP !!!!
Unfortunately drooling over the thought of yelling at butcher in some dark alley in the middle of a mission you’re supposed to be finishing 🧎HEAR ME OUT
——
You’re pissed off, yelling at him about being as careless as he always was, planting a hand firm on his chest and pushing him into the wall of some building you couldn’t care less about, all while he gave you some shitty excuse about doing ‘whatever it takes to get the job done’. You’re in his face, anger written all over your own while he waited for you to finish your lecture.
“Shouldn’t care so much about someone like me for fucks’ sake, so what if I get a little roughed up? It’s part of the job.” He explained, not really understanding the reason behind your protest nor caring to.
“Fuck you.” You said with a final glare, walking backwards and away from him as you took a few deep breaths to regain yourself, before quickly turning around and marching towards him when you heard him chuckle behind you.
“What the fuck are you laughing about?” He had quite the bad habit of not taking you seriously, on and off the job, and it only pissed you off further.
“Just a bit hard to take you seriously like this ‘s all” He was smiling like a fucking idiot when you walked back up to him, wordlessly threatening to slap him with a raised hand.
“Handsy, are we? Relax. Not a bad thing to be soft. It’s a good look on ya, hand to god.” He put a hand over his heart like he was promising when he said it, but you wouldn’t be surprised if his other hand was occupied with keeping two fingers crossed behind his back.
“You know you’re not my boss anymore, right? I might work with you but I follow M.M. You’re just some asshole I have to go on missions with now.” Your words didn’t carry the venom you tried to conjure out of yourself, disappointment that you were actually letting him get to you settling in.
“Ouch.” He said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he sauntered closer to you. “Why don’t we just get back to work, eh? Finish this little spat when we don’t have some D-lister supe up our asses?”
“Fuck that and fuck you, Butcher. I’m not going to work with a psycho that doesn’t care if he gets himself or his partner killed. I don’t have time for this shit, if you want to ruin your life do it on your own time. I’m done.” You spat before turning away again, this time stopped by him moving in front of you.
“Hang on just a second there, I might put myself in danger for this but I still protect you. Might have a shitty way of showin’ it but that’s the reason you’re not here alone. Think M.M would send me somewhere for no reason? You’re good enough to do the job alone just fine, but there’s about six Vaught cunts in there just waitin’ on you to walk in alone.” He stopped himself with a drop of his head while you stood in what you could only describe as confusion, a tinge of guilt in your stomach.
He raised his head after a moment of you not responding. “Come on.” He gestured back towards the building entrance, looking at you with something along the lines of remorse, a look you’d never seen on him.
Maybe it was the quiet, the only audible noises your own heartbeat in your ears and the low passing of cars on the street a few feet ahead of you. Maybe it was the moonlight lightly tracing over both of your outlines, giving the man in front of you a soft glow as he seemingly patiently waited on you. Maybe it was every other time you’ve wanted to say that to him, finally getting a response that wasn’t complete bullshit. Whatever it was, every possible excuse felt ultimately irrelevant by the time you shoved your lips into his own.
It was difficult to shock someone like Butcher, there was basically nothing you could say or do that he hadn’t heard or seen before, but you felt the hesitation from him anyway. It was just a second but the tension felt heavy right until the moment you felt him kissing you back. It wasn’t soft, you couldn’t possibly have expected it to be, his rough palms moving to your sides almost immediately.
You blinked away the tears threatening to spill over your lash line as he shoved your face into the brick wall in front of you, his other hand currently two fingers deep inside of you, to which you had no prior warning in true Billy Butcher fashion. It was no secret he was just as much a dick in the sex department as he was out of it, relentlessly teasing you like a fucking animal.
“Yellin’ at me get you this worked up, did it?” He covered your body with his own but that didn’t stop the urgency you felt to finish before someone walked out and saw you, your eyes closed as you focused on the feeling of his thick fingers hooking up up up and then back out again repeatedly, fast and rough just as his tongue had been in your mouth a moment before.
“Jesus-“ You gasped when his thoroughly soaked fingers retracted to rub tight circles over your clit. He was clearly in his element, you could practically feel the grin on his face right behind you.
“Not quite.”
———
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blueishspace · 2 days
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Looped Sun 15
Loop #451
Mumbo wasn't sure about trying out Double Life, especially in a null loop like this one...but Grian had asked and he wasn't able to say no. So there he was, ready to see how this would go down.
TangoTek was blown up by a creeper.
Solidaritygaming died.
Mumbo didn't expect Tango to die the same way so he had to assume they were unawake this time around. It had been a while since they looped together now that he tought about it. Oh well.
Skizz: Hey man!
Mumbo: O-oh! You are here too?
Skizz: Sure thing!
Mumbo: O-oh...have you found your soulmate yet mate?
Skizz: No, have you?
Mumbo: ... Not really. Do you think...?
Skizz: No hurt in checking! Come on dude, punch me!
Mumbo: Oh pants! Uh... here you go?
Turns out they were soulmates, guess it made sense since the other pairs seemed to be the same.
Mumbo: I see skeletons!
Skizz: I'm on them!
Mumbo: Try not to die please?
Skizz: What's up!? What's up!?
Mumbo: O-oh I'll help!! Wait for me!
Well, they didn't win...not that he expected them to. It was lots of fun though.
Loop #453
Pearl had loved her first Avatar the last airbender loop, Katara had been a great teacher and she still used waterbending often... She didn't like this specific Avatar loop though, mostly because she was stuck as a fish.She got it of course, moon spirit, PearleascentMoon, sge wasn't stupid... but still being a fish in small small pond while swimming in literal circles is mind numbing.
Then of course came the general who tried to kill her, which was rude by the way, and she had to deal with him...fortunately chaos magic still worked as a fish.
Loop #457
Grian: And that's Uno.
Jimmy: No! No! You can't let him win.
Tango: I got nothing...
Mumbo: M-me neither. Scott?
Scott: ...Pearl? ... I'm sorry, +4.
Pearl: Don't worry mate, I got you. +4.
Grian: What!? Noo! Pearl why!?!
Jimmy: And It's my turn!
Grian: Ok, what if we traded?
Pearl: Go on.
Grian: I'll give you one of the red properties so you can get the monopoly if you give me that one.
Pearl: So you can get a monopoly too?
Grian: It's a win-win.
Pearl: ... Sure. Here you go.
Grian: I hate this. I hate life.
Mumbo: O-oh!
Scott: Look at the bright side.
Grian: What bright side?
Scott: Jimmy is sucking so bad.
Grian: You what, you are right. The game of life is my favorite now.
Jimmy: Wha- hey.
Tango: I mea ... He's not lyificating.
Jimmy: Rancher, you too? Betrayal!
Mumbo: Oh ...ok... Before blank all we had was blank.
Pearl: Ooh a double.
Scott: I have an idea but I also hate it.
Jimmy: I ...don't like this game...
Tango: Well, here goes nothing.
Mumbo: Ok let's see... Before s-sexy pillow fights all we had was gladiator fights? I don't get it...
Pearl: Yeah that was just boring.
Grian: Listen, I had 0. Absolutely 0 good cards.
Jimmy: I like this one a lot better.
Grian: Timmy ... Timmy this is not a game, It's Mumbo's tarot card.
Jimmy: I stand with what I said. So what did I get?
Mumbo: Oh! That's the... that's the fool.
Jimmy: Nice! ... What does it mean?
Mumbo: Youth... and luck...it depends.
Loop #459 (part 1)
Jimmy: Uh, were are we?
Tango: It looks like a dungeon entrance?
Jimmy: Well, I got that.
Scott: Oh fuck I know what loop this is. This is bad.
Tango: You do?
Scott: This is fear and hunger.
Jimmy: ... Oh...I heard about it. The very non pg one?
Tango: Are the two of you going to share.
Scott: This... We can do this, It's not a null loop or anything. It should be doable.
Scott: It's...really dark. Darker then the game.
Tango: I can have my flame hair on, it might help.
Jimmy: Or I could do the sun incantation? Make my hair glow.
Scott: No, no. You need to sing for it to work, we can't risk your throat getting tired too early on.
Jimmy: ...Alright.
Tango: Aren't you like a god of order Scott? Can't you do anything to help?
Scott: Not really, my divinity here is really diminished for some reason. Probably the influence of the old gods.
Jimmy: Wait I hear a voice!
Tango: Uh!? Where!?
Jimmy: It's...
Jimmy enveloped himself with a thin layer of Listener magic.
Jimmy: That way!
Tango: What-
Scott: Since when are you a Listener?
Jimmy: Pretty early on in my loops, it happens sometimes. Oh, I hear it again. It sounds young!
Tango: A door?
Jimmy: We obviously need to get to other side!
Scott: Let me try something.
And in a flash of blue Scott is gone... A few seconds later the door opens with Scott behind it.
Scott: The tesseract still works.
Jimmy: Is that a little girl?
Tango: Why is she in a cage? Scott?
Scott: ... It's complicated...just help me get her out.
Tango: The cage doesn't look too hard to breakificate. Just pull a bit and uh... It's harder then it looks. I'm going to melt it-
Scott: And risk molten metal getting on the girl?
Tango: Point... I'll just use an axe.
Jimmy: Hello there! Who are you?
Girl: ...
Jimmy: Right uh... I'll introduce myself first if you want.
Girl: ...
Jimmy: Right, I'm Jimmy, that's Tango and that is Scott.
Girl: ...
Prev Next First
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ender-cloud · 1 day
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That new update ahshshbsbdhejsjdheha Tgs spoilers under cut
GUYS RACHEL IS CRYING AND I DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO :( MY GIRL, I’ve been begging for a reaction and now i’m sad seeing it.
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It’s kind of the expected reaction and it’s an appropriate reaction but i feel so bad for her. I need a Rachel rant pages, i just need her to get her emotions out Holy shittt!!!
Also Jasper???
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I wanna know if its like, did he see Rachel upset, or is he like doubting Jekyll? From how the panels are set up I think it’s him being worried about Rachel and I’m hoping we get Rachel ranting next page please please please, I need it so bad
Ok ok, now Lanyons Monologue the actual important part of this page so time to break this down:D
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“But in Return, it tears your life Apart” god that’s so well written man, It’s so hard to unpack these things but i find it so interesting how Lanyon went from “Holy shit my boyfriend has been lying to me” to “Is it because of this Rouge science?”
The thing that stood out to me was Lanyon knowing that Jekyll was slipping but seemingly ignoring it because he didn’t want to believe Jekyll was slipping, he didn’t want to see Jekyll as anything except for “perfect” as we’ve seen in the last few pages
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“Maybe I wouldve been able to rescue Henry from himself” LANYON I LOVE YOU BUT YOU CAUSE ME SO MUCH PAIN HOLY SHIT
Was part of it Lanyons fault? Sorta???? Like in a way Jekyll made the potion so he could be this perfect person for himself and the society but it’s likely that Lanyon also had a big part in why.
Mind lanyon of course, what Jekyll wanted/inspired to be more like. But, Lanyon is only a factor why, I’m not sure how much he could’ve done for Jekyll, there is probably a way he couldn’t helped more but it’s not like 100% certain that even if he changed some things Jekyll wouldn’t have made the potion
Now it’s time for the, Guys please stop calling Hyde a disease, portion
AGHSHSHAHHEHEHWJW I get why Lanyon says these things, I do, I really do, BUT COME ON MAN, he’s still a human being dude, just a ball chaos. BUT A DEMON???
Like Hyde was still a part of Jekyll that’s now separated and has the ability to form his own thoughts but a demon???? I think Lanyon really needs to accept that Jekyll did this to himself, there wasn’t an outside force, its not a demon, Jekyll made the potion and drank it, studying the affects it might have even before he did it.
It’s just interesting how Lanyon refuses to accept it no matter how much Jekyll has told him about how he made the potion and chose to drink it and Lanyon is still here thinking “It’s a demon, Thats why”
God dude, Hyde hasnt even killed anyone in Tgs too so it’s even more like unreasonable, did he start a fire… yes, but in self defense! The Hyde slander is getting out of hand, :(
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daryltwdixon · 2 days
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The Ruins of Us: Chapter 10
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Summary: the group begins a full fledged search for Sophia in the woods, when they come up to an abandoned church. You end up overhearing another conversation between Lori and Shane, and finally fess up to Daryl that he'd been right all along. In a flashback, you remember a time you went out during the first few weeks of college with your effeminate roommate, when you see a familiar face in the crowd.
warnings: mentions of ED (not reader), alcohol consumption
The pale blue horizon had streaks of yellow sunlight peeking through the clouds as you opened your eyes the next morning. Your back was killing you–you had stayed in one of the leftover cars on the highway to get a couple hours of shut eye as best you could. You got better shut-eye a few days ago at the CDC, and since then any noise outside the windows jostled you awake at night. You begin to sit up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes with your fists, when you hear hushed voices outside the vehicle.
“I know how she is— she thinks she can handle things on her own, but I’ve seen her fall apart more times than I can count,” it’s Shane’s voice outside your window, and you keep your head low to keep listening.
“How do you even know that girl, Shane? What happened? She looks familiar, but I can’t place her. Did we speak to her on a patrol together or somethin’?” Rick’s voice comes out in a hushed, curious whisper. You knew he couldn’t have completely forgotten who you were yesterday. At some point his memory had to come back to him, as foggy as it may be after the time that has gone by. You peek your eyes out the window just enough to get a glimpse of Shane’s face, it's contorted in a way you can tell he’s working out what to say in his head. His brows are furrowed, and he runs his hand through his hair while resting the other on his hip. 
“Yeah, I knew her before this all went down. We crossed paths a few times–she’s from around the area. Nothin’ serious. She was stuck in a bad place back then, couldn’t really take care of herself so I kept her out of trouble when I could. Didn’t think it was necessary to explain,” he says. You duck your head back under the window, a tightness rising up your throat. There's a long pause before either of them say anything again.
“That’s it? Just crossed paths? You looked at her like there was a lot more to it than that, Shane. You called her a pet name , dammit. What aren’t you tellin’ me?” Rick sounds more and more aggressive as he goes on. Amazement at how perceptive Rick was flashes through your mix of emotions, although you admit the first time you and Shane saw each other again wasn’t all that reserved when he brought you into a hug that day. God, it felt so long ago already. There’s another long pause, you can imagine Shane is searching his brain for a reason good enough for his facade. 
“She didn’t want me talkin’ about it. You know how people can get about their past. I wasn’t gon’ go around tellin’ stories to anyone who would listen, Rick. It doesn't even matter–what matters is she’s here now and we’ve gotta figure out how to find Sophia. We don’t have time to dig into the past when the dead are walkin’ around.” 
You can hear Rick’s quiet agreement, and their footsteps recede. 
That motherfucker.
After all that time, all that pain, he acts like you were just another face he barely knew. That you were some kid who couldn’t look after herself. How the hell does he explain the tension between him and Daryl then? Your breathing is shallow as the thoughts race through your mind. Protecting his own damn image, taking control of the situation–it was all typical you realize. Looking back at everything, he always kept you hidden away in the dark. Literally in the middle of the night, every single time. Never taking you to busy public places, never introducing you to his friends. The intensity of the emotions hits you like a spark of flame–your fists ball up as you try to keep yourself together. You need to get moving, the search party is about to start looking for the little girl, and you can’t go out there like this. How are you supposed to let him get away with acting like you were nothing to him? I should've known better, you think to yourself. Should’ve listened to Daryl when he said Shane was bad news. But you’re here now, and Shane is right about one thing–it’s too much to bring up when you have to find Sophia. For now, you shove –hard– at the thought, putting it in a neat little box in your brain with a lock on it. 
Your stomach growls loudly, shaking you from your thoughts. Your mind switches back to survival mode, the need for food and water apparent. You shift yourself up into the sitting position, and exit the car. 
As you approach, everyone is gathered around a sedan, Rick laying out a roll of an arsenal of weapons. 
“Everyone takes a weapon,” he announces. You step up next to Daryl, giving him a small smile. His hand comes up to you, offering a piece of beef jerky. You take it with eagerness, ripping a piece off with your teeth. The salty, dry taste feels so good on your tongue. You say a small thanks to him, and face the group.
“These aren’t the kind of weapons we need,” Andrea retorts, looking at the hammers and tools on the hood of a car, “What about the guns?”
“We’ve been over that,” Shane interjects, “Rick and I will be carrying. Daryl too,” his eyes flicker over to you, “we can’t have people popping off rounds every time a tree rustles,”
“It’s not the trees I’m worried about,” she says to him.
“Say someone fires at the wrong moment–herd happens to be passin’ by,” his eyes are back on her, “See–then it’s game over for all of us. So you need to get over it,” he says in an authoritarian tone.
“I’ve been trained to use a gun, why can’t I have one?” you pipe in, looking down at the ground.
“Yeah, shootin’ squirrels in the backwoods of bumblefuck Georgia,” Shane snarks at you.
“Isn’t that where we are now?” you retort, looking up at him with your eyes narrowed.
“Not happening,” he says simply, ending the conversation.
Daryl stares quietly, his jaw flexing as he watches the both of you argue. Rick is looking at Daryl too now, waving him on to tell the plan. Without any other words from you or Shane, he begins to talk about going up the creek to find Sophia. You walk up to the car and grab a hammer, it’s heavy but feels good in your hand. You practice swinging it to get the hang of the weight.
“Stay quiet, stay sharp,” Rick orders as everyone walks away, putting together packs of food and water. You take a generous swig of a bottle before putting it into a small bag over your shoulder. 
You can overhear a heated discussion going on with Andrea and Dale, but feel it’s probably best to keep your distance. You doubt they want another person’s two cents in the conversation. As she joins everyone again, you begin walking, taking up behind Daryl who has his crossbow over his shoulder. Rick is behind you at a safe distance. You all quietly follow in a single line after each other for a while, and after an hour or so of walking at a steady pace, Daryl lifts his hand behind him, getting everyone down on the ground. Crouching, you let Rick go ahead of you to walk with him and see a lone tent up ahead. Shane brushes up against you as he tries to pass as well. The three of them come up to the tent with hesitation, and you hold your breath as Daryl approaches with his knife at the ready. Carol slowly walks up, calling for Sophia. 
With no response, Daryl makes his way into the tent. You grab the wrist of whoever is next to you–you can’t even tell who it is and you don’t care. You have an iron grip on them, pleading for there not to be anything dangerous in the tent. Let it just be Sophia, please. But then Daryl comes out of the tent, standing up straight.
“Not her,” he says simply, a small gun in his hand. You drop your hand, and look over to see Glenn looking at you with wide eyes. 
You offer a small smile, “sorry,” 
He doesn’t respond, and looks toward the other guys by the tent. Turns out the person in the tent “opted out” as Jenner once put it. But suddenly you hear church bells, and everyone stands at attention, trying to search for the source of the sound. Everyone starts to run toward the noise, and out of the clearing in the woods you see a cemetery with a small church attached. Rick sprints to the door, and when everyone is behind him, he begins slowly opening it, ready for the worse. You stay back behind the men, hatchet ready in your hand. There’s a few walkers that turn and hiss when they see the group. Immediately you’re inside, ready to strike. You manage to jump in front of one that Shane is aiming for, slamming your hatchet down in its head. You stand as the walker falls down, looking up at Shane with a challenge blazing in your eyes. 
“Can’t handle myself, huh?” you ask quietly. His eyes narrow on you as well, but when the room is quiet with the lack of walkers snarling, you look back over to Daryl asking the statue of Jesus for requests, which brings a small smile of humor to your face. Why is it in the worst situations, he can make you laugh? You barely can tell if he means to. He screams for Sophia then, and you are reminded to start looking around the place. The short row of pews is empty, there’s no girl here. If she was there’s no way she could have handled those walkers anyway. Shane is approaching Rick, demanding that it’s the wrong church. No steeple, no bells, he tells him. But then the ringing chimes loudly above you and everyone is running outside. Glenn runs to the side of the building to the speaker the noise is blaring from, reaching down to the switch at the bottom.
“Timer, it’s on a timer,” Daryl says, defeatedly. Everyone seems to exhale, but more in despair than relief. Although the bells stopped and the noise is no longer going to draw anything in, you still feel the disappointment fill the air around you. 
Daryl falls to the side of the building, sitting and leaning his head back against the siding, letting his eyes softly shut. Letting out another sigh, you fall beside him, your head resting on the heels of your hands. You sit there for a long moment in silence, before you look at him, contemplating if you want to say what’s on your mind. He looks so defeated, so sad. You can tell the loss of the little girl is getting to him. He’s a tracker, he can find almost anything out in the woods. You wonder if he’s feeling inadequate in moments like this.
He seems to sense that there’s something on the tip of your tongue, “what is it?” he says softly, opening one eye to look at you. When you are still hesitant, he opens both his eyes and turns his head to look at you, “what?” he whispers again.
“You were right,” you admit, looking at him in his blue eyes that match the color of the sky today.
“Usually am,” he smirks, “‘bout what this time?”
Before you can open your mouth to speak, you both turn your heads in the direction you hear Shane’s voice coming from. He’s to your left, in front of the church building stairs. You can see Lori standing a few feet from him. Their voices are coming out aggravated, almost urgent.
“Are you really leaving?” you hear Lori asking.
“Don’t you think it’s best for all of us?” Shane’s voice questions. Daryl looks over at you, eyes searching your face for any kind of answers. You shake your head lightly, as if to say you have no clue what’s going on, and look toward the noise again. You can only see the back of Lori as she speaks to him. You can still only really pick up pieces of the conversation. Shane is completely out of view but you can pick up his voice here and there. Lori seems to want him to leave, but she’s not happy with him.
“Just tryna be the good guy here, Lori,” Shane says so quietly you can barely hear it, and you roll your eyes at that, “none of this was intended ,” he finishes. 
Lori leaves the corner of the building, walking what you assume is Shane in front of the church. Their voices are still in hushed whispers, talking over each other. You hear Rick and Carl’s name come up, but never yours.
“ I’m the one that loses you,” Shane says to her. You start to see Lori coming back into view, but she heads up to the steps of the church instead of around the building. Everything is quiet again.
Daryl looks back at you, his expression hard. 
“About that,” you exhale, closing your eyes and leaning your head back. 
———————————————————————————
“Y’all gonna follow the creek bed back,” Shane announces, “Daryl, you’re in charge,” 
“You’re splittin’ us up?” Daryl asks, his eyes narrowing, “you sure about that?” 
The group has formed back together after a couple of bites of what you all packed in your bags today before you left the highway–you and Daryl shared the rest of the jerky he had and a can of beans between the two of you. The sun was on its way down for the second half of the day. You knew you only had so many hours of daylight left to find Sophia. 
You stand next to the others as Shane and Rick explain they’re going to stay back and keep watch for her to appear–maybe she heard the bells and came running but hasn’t made it yet. Daryl’s voice is worried when he asks Shane about his plan. 
“Yeah, we’ll catch up to you,” Shane says easily.
As you start turning to walk away with the others, he suddenly calls out, “Y/N, you comin’?” 
It takes you a moment to register that Shane is calling your name. You nearly gawk at him, what the hell?
“Sorry?” you say to him, not sure you heard him right. Your tone is laced with disbelief.
Daryl’s jaw tightens as he looks over at you, chewing the inside of his lip. You look between him and Shane, uncertain about the change in attitude towards yourself. You don’t make a move to leave Daryl’s side. 
“Don’t want you wanderin’ off tryna look for Sophia yourself again, now do we? Want you in my sight,” he says to you. 
First of all, you’re amazed he’s trying to demand things of you in front of the group–it’ll put a clear target on you that Shane thinks you’re not capable of handling yourself, although he did make it clear to Rick this morning that was really what he thought of you. And second–since when does he want you around him? Hadn’t he made it clear that you needed to steer clear of anything having to do with him?
“Come on now,” he calls you over, his fingers twitching to beckon you forward. You look up at Daryl, who, instead of focusing on you now, is glaring at Shane. Lori is watching you too, confusion in her eyes. You could swear it looks as if Daryl is about to stop you from moving forward as he begins to lean forward. But he seems to think better of himself from the look on Shane’s face, and stops himself from making any moves. You slowly make your way over to him and Rick. Standing between them with your hatchet in your hand, Carl calls out he wants to come too. Surprisingly, his mom looks to you and the men you stand between, then lets him come along with you. You smile gently at Carl while he makes his way over. He really is a cute kid. 
The group starts to break apart, the women and Glenn heading away. Daryl stands still after handing Lori the extra gun he found, staring down Shane. Both of them are stock still as Rick excuses himself into the church. You reach out to grab Shane’s arm, and you're struck by the ease in which you feel comfortable enough to do it, even after the past few days’ events. You hate that you didn’t stop yourself, realizing it was a mistake. Daryl’s trance breaks as he sees your hand wrap around Shane’s bicep. As you’re pulling his arm away, Shane looks down at your hand, up at you, then to Daryl with a shit eating smirk, and starts walking with you. 
“Wipe the smirk off your face, Shane,” you mumble, releasing his arm once he starts moving.
“You and I both know you still need me, whether you want to admit it or not,” he says with a cocky look in his eye, passing you to walk towards the woods. You’re half tempted to flip him off behind his back. You glance behind you to reassure Daryl, but his back is already turned, walking to catch up with the rest of the group.
x Flashback x
When your roommate Dana said she was taking you to a “dive bar” as you were getting ready to leave on that Friday night, you hadn’t really imagined she meant an actual dive bar. You had met her your first day, naturally, as you were unpacking your only two bags in the dorm room. She immediately took to you like a magnet, making you try on all her clothes and doing your makeup how she thought you’d look best. You were her “little project” as she liked to call you. 
The thing was, Dana was from Fulton County for god’s sake, so you thought she’d keel over when she saw the state of the dive bar you knew well from home. You were surprised when she was the one who mentioned going to Henderson’s Bar. It was well known for never once being cleaned, the music old, but the drinks were cheap. You knew of the place, but never wanted to go in, afraid of creeps that smelled like beer and body odor trying to climb all over you. But when you walked in tonight next to Dana arm and arm with you, you were surprised to see it packed with college students. There was a small DJ stand in the corner playing club music, and a large crowd taking up the majority of the space dancing and grinding together. Your fake ID got you easily inside– Henderson’s wasn’t the type to have a scanner like some of the nicer clubs in downtown Atlanta. You recognize some kids from school before college, but try your best to advert your eyes if any of their gazes linger on your for more than a second. 
Dana led you straight to the bar where she ordered both of you vodka sodas. Dana had taught you all about the calories in things, and what drinks were best to keep you buzzed but thin. You had never really thought about that kinda stuff before, to be honest. You were always living on the edge of starving so the idea of watching your calories hadn’t occurred to you. But Dana was obsessed. She told you every number of calories in every serving of cafeteria food at school, read Weight Watchers and Cosmopolitan Magazines between classes, showing you new ideas for a diet she wanted to try the next day. You let her talk on and on about it, but anytime she asked you to try a new fad with her you usually turned her down, saying you were trying another diet, but you never told her which one. What you really wanted to say was she should relax and just…let herself enjoy food while it was so easily accessible. You definitely did, especially the first time you saw the cafeteria at GSU. The financial support you got from the state allowed you to get free food on campus, and you’d never been so excited to try so many things. The very first meal you had at the school had made you sick, you had eaten so much. You had to remember that this would be available all the time now, and you didn’t need to act like it was going to be taken away anytime soon. At least not ‘til summer, when you’d have to figure out what in the world you were going to do.
In the midst of your run on thoughts, Dana had pulled you into the dance floor, swaying her hips and holding your hand in one of her’s, the other holding the drink up to her mouth. She always looked so pretty, so put together. You wondered what you looked like standing next to her. She dressed you in a tight black tank top and a short denim skirt tonight. You didn’t let her put you in any of her shoes–you were adamant about keeping your comfortable footwear. And in your defense, the boots kind of looked good with the skirt, even if they were pretty beat up. Dana had smeared some eyeliner and mascara on you as well, and your eyes felt twice their usual weight. Throughout the night you weren’t sure if they felt heavy because of the makeup or the drinks in your system. The song suddenly changed as you danced with her, and it made you look up with a smile. You actually knew this one from the radio. 
As you looked up, however, you saw a familiar face across the room. Even through the crowd of dancing party goers–hell, no matter the size of the room or amount of people, you’d always be able to find that face.
Daryl. 
He already had his eyes on you, maybe that’s what made your eyes find him so easily. You could feel him watching. He was bringing his bottle of beer up to his lips when you noticed the blue and purple marks around his right eye. You groaned inwardly, wondering how he got that badly bruised. As he lowered the bottle from his mouth, you saw the healing split in his lip.
“Oh my god, that guy is cute,” Dana said next to you, having to raise her voice in your ear. She had followed your line of sight–you were probably staring–and your stomach sank when you saw her eyeing Daryl, “you know, like farmer boy hot, like he’s been in a fight. Even his black eye is hot.”
“He ain’t a farmer,” you mumbled, but she couldn’t hear you over the bass of the music. She was already making her way over to him, swerving through the people with ease. People always made way for her, maybe because of how pretty she was or just her presence alone. You were starting to wish people saw you the same way. Not until she’s made her way to stand in front of him did Daryl take his eyes off of you. He looked at her with a small smirk, letting her capture his attention. It was always easy for her to keep a guy’s attention, you’d noticed. She batted her eyelashes how girls are supposed to, put her hand on their arm and leaned into them. If only you knew how to do that stuff. Not that you really needed to. You still talked to Shane on the phone most nights, usually he asked how school was and after getting a few short answers about his day it would lead to phone sex, which you enjoyed but it still made you feel lonely when you hung up the phone. Once in a while he picked you up for a late night picnic in his truck or just to take you to a quiet place to have his way with you. You sighed and made your way over to the bar now, away from the sweaty dancers. Leaning against the sticky wooden surface, you stared at the stains on it while you waited for Dana to return. 
“Hey miss Piggy,” you heard a familiar voice in your ear. You turned to see Merle Dixon behind you, leaning in with that shit eating grin he always wore. His eyes seemed heavier than the last time you saw him, with bags under them from lack of sleep. He was also skinnier, which all things combined you had come to know meant he was on a bender–and not from alcohol.
“Miss Piggy is low, Merle,” you scoffed, facing him fully, leaning your elbows back on the bar, “even for you,”
“Aw, don’t be like that,” he lifted his mouth into a smirk, “you know you’ve always been a hottie in my eyes, Y/N. I just mean you’ve been rollin around with the pigs lately, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, “Nice, real nice.” you brought your drink up to your mouth, the bubbles hitting your tongue, burning in the best way. Shane’s face came into your mind’s eye, hating when they called him that. 
“Hey now, why didn’t you and I ever get together, Y/N?” he came in closer to you, “before you met Officer Friendly, how come we never bump’ uglies?”
You let out a laugh, and brought your hand up to his face, patting it gently, “cause you say things like ‘bump uglies’, Merle,” 
He still was smiling, turning to bite your hand. You gave his cheek one last hard pat, making him wince, “c’mon now, we’d have a lot of fuuun,” he teased.
You brought your hand away, rolling your eyes, “not gonna happen,” 
He’ laughed lightly, about to bring his bottle of Corona to his lips when he looks over your head, “well now lookie here, looks like my little brother does know how to score some puss,”
You nearly gagged at his choice of words, but still turned to see what he was on about. Your heart plummeted into your stomach at the sight of Dana and Daryl locked in a heavy makeout against the opposite wall. Daryl’s hand was on the back of her head, pulling her into him. She had her arms up around his neck, pushing herself against him in equal measure. You quickly looked away when you realized you’d been staring too long, and Merle was taking a drink from his beer, his eyes watching you. 
“What?” you snapped at him.
“Nothin,” he chuckled, shaking his head a little, “just looks like you’ll be goin’ home alone tonight,”
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c3e59
let's go back in tiiiiime
"Where are we?" "Where's everybody else?" "Where's Imogen?"
This area is rife with not just volcanic activity, but with seismic activity as well, and Ruidus is to the south.
Laudna identifies a handful of places that match this description: the Truskan Vale (near Kamordah), the Panagrip Sands (to the far east of Marquet), and the Spectrum Gorge in the middle of Issylra.
Orym to Caleb, via sending stone: "Um... Caleb Widogast? Are you alright? Where are you? Not sure we're even in Marquet anymore. Please respond." He's met with a feedback loop and static.
Orym to Dorian, vis sending stone: "Dorian? Can you hear me? Uh... what's the sky look like where you are? Tell me you're okay." Same thing.
They crest a ridge of the gorge, and beyond, there's a dense forest, a cluster of growth affixed to the mineral-rich earth. Orym, with a passive perception of 31, sees movement — 
AIMEE!!!!
She's a dwarf with long blond hair, covered in tattoos — two stand out, one of a banner heart that says "me" instead of "mom," and one with a large cursive D. She's wearing earring hoops that say "fuck off." A corset, bejeweled boots, a massive gold belt buckle, carrying a whip and a sickle.
I'm calling it right now, this woman is going to romance Laudna and Ashton.
An hour ago, she was in Tal'dorei looking for her ex. She almost found him when she heard Ludinus' voice, saw white light, then appeared in this forest.
Mona is a barbarian/rogue (who rolled excellent stats btw).
From the top, they can see that the gorge is a massive canyon at least two miles long. Ruidus is to the southwest of them. An extremely overgrown and vibrant forest surrounds the canyon, and there's a river nearby.
Orym can see another gathering of leylines to the northeast — another nexus point, miles off. Loosely in that direction, he can see a township, and beyond that, a massive mountain range with one singular mountain taller than any he's ever seen — the Heaven's Stair. The entire western side of his vision is taken up by a mountain range that looks so foreboding and ominous that he doesn't even want to go near it. To the south, ocean.
Traveling to the northeast, they encounter a fire and send Pate to scout. (Friendly reminder that Pate uses the stat block of an imp, so he can turn invisible at will.) At the fire, there's a cart, a reindeer-looking beast of burden, and a humanoid figure warming their hands.
Utkarsh Ambudkar is an actor best known for his roles in Pitch Perfect and Avatar: the Last Airbender.
Bor'dor is a half-elf "built like a coat hanger." 6'4 but hunched over, delicate fingers, no scars or tattoos. Brown skin with shades of green and gold, unkempt hair, and large gold-amber eyes. A face that carries the resting expression of "what the fuck is going on?" No armor, a green cloak, leather shoes, and a crossbow.
He shoots a 5th-level lightning bolt at Mona, then casts cure wounds at second level. He's a divine soul sorcerer!
He was in the Cyrios Mountains on Wildemount (near Pride's Call) with his sheep — his family raises sheep and sheepdogs — and caring for his sick brother. Then he felt a humming, heard a voice and a droning, a pain in his forehead — then he got teleported here, along with his cart.
And apparently he just... spontaneously gained 9 levels in sorcerer over the course of the hours he's been here. Which, if he's a divine soul sorcerer, is super fucking concerning considering what we know about the gods giving large amounts of power to their followers from EXU: Calamity.
Mona's whip is a whip of warning, which gives her advantage on initiative rolls. Also, creatures within 30 feet of her cannot be surprised, and if they're sleeping naturally and combat starts, they wake up at the start of combat.
Orym spots another figure, walking through the forest, approaching the light and conversation.
EMILY!!
She's a shadar-kai elf with emo girl tattoos with runes instead of song lyrics, but she's dressed in the formal attire of a mage's apprentice. Indoor kid vibes, clothes not meant for adventuring, "coming out of a tense conversation with a book."
She's a Cobalt Soul apprentice!! She's here asking about their "experiences with the apogee solstice."
Her book talks to her. She was sent by the Cobalt Soul, but with a sentient book chaperone. It's a tome with black and brown leather and silver runes, with a scrunched face roughly pressed into the front. Denios was trapped in a book during a rivalry, the Cobalt Soul got their hands on it, and now he's a chaperone.
The Cobalt Soul didn't know where she was gonna end up, but they sent her through a teleport spell hoping for a metropolis — and ended up here. So this confirms that teleport works, but there's no guarantee where you're gonna end up.
Prism was stepping outside the library to prepare for her teleportation when she heard Ludinus, saw a flash, and ended up here.
The Soul knew that the apogee solstice would be a "cataclysmic event." They scrounged up everyone they could and dispatched them to try to figure out what's happening.
The sentient book is also her spellbook, so she's stuck with him.
It sounds like Prism is an order of scribes wizard? That would make sense for the Cobalt Soul.
Mona's "real" name is Deni$e. Her nails are incredibly sharp stilettos. Her demeanor reminds me a lot of Keg.
More rustling in the bushes! More people?
Nope! Initiative at the end of the break.
Prism has a raven familiar she calls "mother." She also invokes the spirit of her spellbook, confirming that she's an Order of Scribes wizard.
Denise has at least 3 levels in rogue, because her sneak attack is 2d6, and at least 2 levels in barbarian, because she has reckless attack.
Gods, I forgot how much I love Talisein's descriptions of Ashton's attacks and rage builds. They're all so good.
Oooooh, I've never seen steel wind strike used in a game before! It's a 5th level ranger/wizard spell from Xanithar's that deals 6d10 force damage on a hit to up to 5 creatures within range. Then, regardless of whether it hit or not, the caster can teleport to a space within 5 feet of any of the targets.
Also, yes, rules-as-written a familiar counts as an ally that can proc sneak attack. So if Veth, as an arcane trickster, had taken find familiar, or if Frumpkin was used in this way, she could've gotten sneak attack much more reliably. Personally, I find it strange that familiars can do this while spiritual weapons cannot, but yeah.
I love that Bor'dor, the newly-minted sorcerer who has no idea how to use his magic purposefully, is this party's only source of healing (besides Laudna's wither and bloom, which hardly counts). From that, it seems like this group is much more geared toward social encounters than physical ones,
YO. EMILY. that is a DOPE FUCKING MOVE
The plant swallows Orym, then the book goes in behind him and gets into contact, then Prism casts dimension door through the book on Orym to teleport them out.
THIS is why I absolutely love watching veteran players on Critical Role. People new to the system have their own unique charm to the way they play their characters, but people like Emily and Aabria who are highly experienced with and aware of D&D 5e know to make incredibly creative moves like that.
And at the same time, Utkarsh (and guests new to 5e) pushes the limits of the rules, because they're not familiar with those rules, to a point that they come up with wildly creative plays based on what knowledge they do have of the rules-as-written that end up being clutch moves.
Combat ends.
Prism's raven is named after both her own mother and the Matron of Ravens, because the latter is prominent in the Shadowfell.
Prism is "really new to spellcasting," despite being a 9th-level wizard who is therefore capable of casting things like contact other plane, create spelljamming helm, legend lore, and teleportation circle. tbh this is such a cool take on wizards -- someone who's never tested their spells in combat situations, but who's confident in their own ability with those spells in more innocuous circumstances, due to their expansive study and lack of practical experience.
Also, Prism knows exactly who Ludinus Da'leth is, though she's never interacted with him directly, because of his leadership of the Cerberus Assembly.
"We don't leave people behind. That's the rule. You do not leave people the fuck behind." I love that this has become the center of Ashton's philosophy, because it makes so much sense. They were left behind, left for dead, and a single person stayed by their side, helped them, saved them. So of course they are going to be that person for someone else. Of course they would rather be the Milo, of course they'd rather try in vain to save someone instead of leaving them behind and subjecting them to the same pain and isolation that they themself felt.
Also, again, Emily is using the same logic for Prism as Aabria did for Laerryn. Maybe it's just because we've never really had a proper elf PC (or a player-character who had the trance ability), but this is just such a cool take on trance...... I love it.
Ahhh, so Prism doesn't necessarily believe the gods should die but she does believe that they might deserve to be usurped by mortals ascending to godhood like the Raven Queen. With a skill check, Prism's truthful reason is that she's feeling excited to be out of the library. She thought she was going to freak out, but she didn't, and she's excited by that -- she feels like she could smoke a cigarette in a single drag, she feels that rush of adrenalin. It's like when Caleb said in C2 that they were all addicts to the thrill of battle, the adrenalin of purpose.
Bor'dor doesn't remember his mother very well, and he hasn't seen her in a very long time. He believes that his magic comes from the love of his mother, and he's clinging to that. He and Prism take the first watch, and bond over their ability to trance.
Yep, Prism is 100% an order of scribes wizard. Manifest Mind is a 6th level ability of that subclass.
Ashton panicked, down in the mines. They thought they'd won, they thought Laudna had won, and they think they made some bad calls. Laudna says that "we're a bunch of dumb-fucks, going up against a 500-year-old wizard, so..." And Ashton reassures her that they're gonna get their people. They're gonna get Prism, Bor'dor, and Deni$e to where they need to go, then they're gonna find Imogen. "If they went to space, then we'll go to space... if she got vaporized, we'll bring her back. This is what we do. We bring everybody back. There is no failure in this, and we're going to figure it out because it's what matters. I have-- whatever broken thing that's in my head, that means that anything's possible now, that's what I've decided. We brought you back, and we can do it again... sure, we're not enough to save the world, but we are more than enough to bring everybody back... we can't save the world, but we can save our people. We're going to."
I never really got to know Percy, I liked Molly, I loved Caduceus... but I want to fucking study Ashton like a bug under a microscope, I want to turn them around in my brain like a microwave. They are fascinating,
Deni$e and Orym take the last watch. Deni$e knows Shaun Gilmore! She went to Emon looking for him specifically. She also knows Dariax, "that piece of shit." She knows Orym from wanted posters all over Emon -- the Nameless Ones have put up wanted posters for all of the Crown Keepers.
Dariax has a dumptruck ass, canon.
DARIAX IS THE EX DENI$E WAS LOOKING FOR
And the Nameless Ones were going after her because they were looking for what Dariax stole, and as soon as she saw him months later, she got teleported here.
Orym has flashes of Keyleth, Will, the horrors they've witnessed. It permeates this light conversation, his entire existence. He drinks, heavier than we've seen him drink the entire campaign. "I just... I just don't think I've ever felt so small."
Prism doesn't know sending, but if she can find a scroll or a copy of a spell, she can transcribe it into her spellbook very quickly. She wants to find a library or some discarded spellbooks so she can help, so she can cast sending.
As an interesting note, this is also an Order of Scribes ability! Usually, it takes 2 hours per spell level for a wizard to transcribe a spell, but for an Order of Scribes wizard it takes two minutes per spell level.
"That mountain to the north is the Ascendant Bridge, the tallest mountain in Exandria... it's visible as far away as Vasselheim. It's believed to be where the gods first arrived in the world." The party is within a gorge of Othanzia, the region in which Vasselheim, the dawn of all civilization, sits.
The party can still see Ruidus, even in the early daylight. They can see townships around -- they have options scattered in every direction.
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