#when people have nowhere to focus their anger they will find something

[helen-with-an-a]

could you please write some kim little angst/fluff to do with a reader with anger issues and all their walls up and kim/rest of the older members of the team having to go full captain on them?

like maybe reader snaps and lashes out at someone during training over something tiny or they get in trouble and gets worked up over it and end up punching a wall/breaking things? kim and the rest of the girls having to make them know how they’re acting isn’t okay or fair on anyone else and slowly start breaking down their walls and get back to themselves again?

Hiiiii. It's a little sadder than I anticipated but I think it works quite well. I hope you enjoy it <3<3<3

Be The Best

AWFC x Reader (focus on Kim Little)

Description: R needs to be the best. The best don't show emotion

TW: R has bad mental health

Word Count: 2.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You were a hot head. No two ways about it. You were an angry girl with even worse anger issues. Some people compared you to Katie on the pitch, but the players knew you were nothing alike. Katie might have been angry on the pitch, throwing as must gusto as possible into every match, but the team knew the moment that whistle went, it was all happy smiles and teasing jokes. But with you, the anger never stopped. There was an intensity behind you that scared most of the girls. You were quick to raise you voice and never backed away from a challenge. Maybe that was why you were the best goalkeeper in the world? At least on a technical level. You read the pitch like no one else could do – you made saves that would’ve slipped past other people’s fingers; you had an aura of ‘fuck around and find out’. You knew that the reason people didn’t acknowledge you as the greatest of your generation was because of your personality. You weren’t goofy like Mary; you weren’t charming or funny. You were deadly serious all of the time with a short fuss that was ready blow at any moment.

You knew exactly why you were like that too. You had grown up in a house where shouting and screaming was the only form of communication. You coaches skreiched obscenities at you from a young age, and eventually you started bellowing back. It was all you had ever known.

Your anger was both your shield and your weapon. On the pitch, it made you fearless. Opponents were intimidated, and even your own teammates tread lightly around you. This intensity was reflected in your play. You were always on high alert, your mind and body ready to react to the smallest movement. Your reflexes were unparalleled, and your ability to predict the opponent's next move was almost uncanny. You could dive and catch a ball that others would have missed by a mile. Every save, every block, every leap was a testament to your raw, unbridled passion for the game.

You didn’t tone it down at training either. It was something a guest trainer had told you years ago. To be the best, you had to train like every moment was like a match. There were no ‘easy’ training sessions. 100% all the time. Nothing less would do.  It didn’t help that you father was a failed professional footballer. He had played in a third-league team, he never earned the big money that most players dream of, but he had made enough to get by. And if it was for that bad tackle. He had showed you the footage repeatedly throughout your childhood – it was a horrific tackle to be fair, the opposing player had his studs up and was nowhere near the ball. It had shattered is leg completely – six surgeries later and he was back to normal, but he would never play football to a high level again. So, he turned his angry energy to you. You had been there at the match that ended his career. You were just 3 years old, but you could remember the screams, the terrifying silence of the crowd and your mother’s palpable fear. You had to be the best. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your emotion may have been a saving grace on the pitch, but off it … your anger isolated you. Friendships were hard to maintain when people were constantly walking on eggshells around you. You often wondered if the trade-off was worth it. Was being the best goalkeeper in the world worth the loneliness that came with it? But then you would step onto the field, and all those doubts would vanish. The roar of the crowd, the adrenaline rush, the sheer thrill of making an impossible save—it all made sense. For those 90 minutes, you were invincible, and nothing else mattered.

You were surprised Arsenal had kept you around for so long. They were always preaching about being a family, so what did that make you? The cousin no one wanted to be around? The strange long-last aunt that everyone was wary of? You weren’t too sure of your place off the pitch, but you knew what it was on it. And that was all that mattered, right?

You had a few teammates in your time at the club try to connect with you. Usually, the newer girls when they first signed. But they were quickly swept away, being pulled along by the more friendly people and they never looked back. Each time they stopped speaking to you, it hurt a little more. But you didn’t have time for pain. Pain was an emotion that stopped you from being the best. And you had to be the best.

This season, you were determined. Last season had been a flop in your eyes. You had crashed out of the Champions League on penalties. And that was entirely your fault. You had lost in the FA cup too. Which was entirely your fault. Yes, you had won the Conti cup – but you had technically let a goal in. Yes, it had technically been discounted but you had let it roll into the back of the net. You let too many goals in during the league and you finished in 3rd by some way. It wasn’t good enough. Not for you.

You had also had a disastrous season (in your eyes) for the Lionesses. You could feel Hampton and Earps’s presence lingering behind you, their breath on your neck as they aimed for the no. 1 shirt. It had been yours for a while now, but you could feel them creeping closer. You had let too many goals in during your short-lived Nations League campaign. You had let Sweden equalise at Wembley, and you had let the goals in against France. It wasn’t good enough. Your father’s words lingered in your mind. Be better. You aren’t good enough.

The summer had been horrific for you. With no friends to speak of, you were either totally alone in your flat – although that was nothing new – or with your family. Your family that constantly berated your every performance. You felt like you weren’t getting a summer. Not with the footage your father made you watch, the analysis of where you had to be better. You were in the gym almost every day. It was unrelenting. But you had to be better. Do better this season. You were fairly sure it would break you if it was a repeat of the last 12 months.

It was one of the last full training sessions before competitive matches began. The girls from the Olympics had returned, the WSL season was rapidly approaching. You had the Champions league qualifications to get through first. You couldn’t lose. Not again. You had to be better.

Although, it seemed like you were the only one feeling that way.

The training session had been … horrific, terrible, awful, horrendous. It was a training game, a full 11-sided match with all the intensity it brought. Your team was losing. Badly. Your defence was not listening to you at all. Lotte was sloppy, Leah was average. Teyah wasn’t listening and Laura wasn’t paying attention. Mariona had capitalised on two mistakes so far, and you could feel another goal would come from Cloe sometime soon.

“Tight on,” you screamed. At least Lotte actually did what you wanted. She stepped forward, engaging in a 1-on-1 battle with Lina. “Watch Frida,” you yelled, readjusting your stance – knowing a cross would come into the box. You saw the play before it happened. Lina would cut to Frida, Frida would push back to Katie and Katie would swing from outside the box, aiming for the top corner. “Cover McCabe,” you shouted to Kyra – who looked absolutely terrified of you. Now was not the time to ponder on her reaction.

You watched the ball bounce to Frida, who tapped it over to Katie, who belted it right towards the top corner. Just like you said it would do. You leapt, your fingers making contact, but it had too much power. It sailed passed your gloved hand, the net rippling behind you.

Usually, in training matches, the winning team would get a few bits of bragging rights, before everyone got on with their lives – forgetting about it by the time they made it home. But this time, you saw red.

“What the fuck, Cooney-Cross?” You rounded on the young midfielder. She paled slightly – impressive with how tanned she was after the summer. “I told you to cover McCabe. Are you deaf or just stupid?” Your voice was like a razor cutting through the tense silence. The other girls stopped, watching the confrontation with wide eyes.

Kyra stammered, "I-I’m sorry, I thought—"

"You thought? You don’t get paid to think, you get paid to listen and execute. Do your job!" You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the familiar pulse of anger pounding in your temples.

"Hey, calm down," Leah stepped in, trying to diffuse the situation. "It’s just training."

"Just training?" you snapped, turning your fury on her. "That’s exactly the problem. You all think this is just training. But every moment on this pitch matters. Every mistake matters. And if we don’t treat it like that, we’re going to keep losing."

Leah's expression hardened. "We’re a team. We win together, we lose together. Yelling at Kyra isn’t going to help."

"Then what will, Leah? Because whatever we’re doing right now clearly isn’t working."

The tension was thick, the air almost crackling with the intensity of your anger. The rest of the team stood in uncomfortable silence, unsure of what to do. This wasn’t the first time you had exploded like this, but it never got any easier for them to witness.

“Enough.” The Scottish accent was plenty to halt to attack. Kim was the only one you would truly listen too at Arsenal. She was your Captain. “Go to the showers. You’re done for the day.” You were being sent home? You pushed down the feeling of you heart splintering a little.

“I’m not the one-” you pressed.

“I said. Enough. Go shower and change. Wait for me in the media room. We will talk after we’ve finished here.” You set your jaw, looking down at the small Scot. She looked back at you, equally unafraid. It was a game of cat and mouse, and you knew it.

You blinked first.

Turning around, you let out a short huff and marching inside. No one said a word. The only sound was you ripping the Velcro strapped from around your wrists. Anger swirled inside you. Hot and red. But the icy pain of hurt started to swell. How could you be so stupid. You had let three goals in. During a training match. If that was what you were like when nothing was at stake, what would you be like when you had actual opponents to play, with points and competitions to play for.

The water was far too hot – leaving a scorching trail of red where it hit your shoulders. You could cry. You didn’t know the last time you actually let your emotions out in anything other way that wasn’t anger. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Your pressed the heel of your hands into your eyes. It wasn’t working. You could fell the tears start. To be the best, you couldn’t feel. You had to be the best. The best didn’t let silly little emotions get in the way. You turn slamming your fist into the cubical wall a few times. It left a slight dent, and your knuckles throbbed in a strange way. It did little to calm your seething thoughts. The sting of being sent off gnawed at you. You replayed the training session over and over in your head, each mistake glaring brighter than the last. It wasn't just frustration at the defence or Kyra's mistake. It was a deep, gnawing disappointment in yourself. You were the last line of defence. If the team couldn’t rely on you to do your job, then what use were you?

After showering and changing, you made your way to the media room, sitting alone in the dim light. Your wet hair dripped onto your shoulders as you stood in silence. You had to get a hold of your emotions before Kim came in. You had to be better. You felt your breath quicken and your heart pound. You bit your lip hard – the inside not the outside. It had become a coping mechanism for you. You used to bite your lip when you were younger, but you dad had seen at shouted at you. Biting your lip was a sign of emotion. Emotion was a weakness. Weaknesses can be exploited. So, you started biting the inside of your lip – where no one could see the scars and cuts. Where no one could see you have emotion.

Finally, the door opened, and Kim walked in. Her presence filled the room with a calm authority. She didn’t sit, choosing instead to stand opposite you, arms crossed.

“Talk to me,” she said, her voice steady but firm. “What’s going on with you?”

You stared at the floor, the words struggling to form in your throat. “I just… I want us to be better,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “We need to be better.”

“We or you?” she asked after a moment. You knew it. You knew that she thought you needed to be better.

“I’m sorry. I know I need to be better. And I’m trying, I …” you voice cracked. Fuck.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. Do you think that we as a team need to be better? Or do you think that you as an individual need to be better?”

You paused, “I need to be better. I know everyone thinks it. And they’re right, I need to be better.”

“Sit down,” Kim instructed, her voice softening as she gestured to a nearby chair. You reluctantly complied, feeling the tension in your muscles as you sat. Kim took the seat across from you, her eyes studying your face with concern.

“Listen,” she began, her tone gentle yet firm, “I get it. I understand the pressure you put on yourself. We all do. But you’re not in this alone. We’re a team, and that means we support each other, not tear each other down.”

You looked up, meeting her gaze. “But if I’m not the best, then who am l? I can’t let my guard down.”

Kim nodded thoughtfully. “Pushing yourself and the team is important, but there’s a difference between pushing and breaking. You’re not a machine. None of us are. We have to find balance. You can’t carry the weight of the entire team on your shoulders. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to the rest of us.”

“But I’ve let everyone down,” you said, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “I’ve let goals in, I’ve made mistakes. I’m supposed to be the best, and I’m failing.”

Kim reached out, placing a hand on your arm. “Making mistakes doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you’re human. And being the best isn’t about never making mistakes. It’s about how you recover from them, how you learn and grow. We all have bad days, bad matches. It’s part of the game.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, embarrassed by the display of emotion. “I just… I don’t know how to be anything else. I’ve always been the one who’s angry, who pushes harder. I don’t know how to be any different.”

Kim gave your arm a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay to feel angry. It’s okay to feel frustrated. But you need to find a way to channel that in a positive direction. We’re here to help you with that. You’re not alone, and you don’t have to carry this burden by yourself.”

You took a deep breath, feeling the tightness in your chest begin to ease. “I don’t know how to start.”

Kim smiled gently. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time. For now, just know that you’re not alone. We’re a team, and we’ve got your back.” You nodded, the weight of her words sinking in.

Maybe it was possible to find a new way forward, to be both strong and supported. For the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope. It wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to try. For your team, for yourself. You could be better. You would be better. And with their help, you would find a way to balance your intensity with the support of those around you.

[snaileer]

Call to my Bedside - 3

Part 1:

When Maddie wakes up with chains around her wrists and a pounding her head, she is surprised to see her family in front of her.

As she blinks in the darkness, ignoring the way her eyes won’t focus, her surprise gradually washes into fast-paced terror.

It’s not just her family in front of her, but also her children’s friends. Her son’s friends.

But her son is nowhere to be seen. Amongst the grime and dinge of the space, there is no unruly mass of black hair.

She counts again. 1, 2-

1, 2,-

Her son exists as a group of three to her.

Jazzy, Jack, and Danny.

Tucker Foley, Sam Manson, and Danny.

But- she counts again.

1, 2-  1, 2-

Her son is not here. Danny is not here.

Her family is injured, Jazz and Jack in one cell and the kids in another, her in yet one more, and her son is missing.

Maddie tries to remember what happened, why she is injured, where they are, why-

There were people, she had fought them, all black clothes and blades, Jazz had come downstairs at the sound, Jack had defended her, Maddie watched them both go down under a blow, the distraction enough- Danny had never come home from school.

Her husband starts to rouse, a low groan.

“Jack.” She whispers harshly, “Jack!”

“Maddie-kins?” Jack mumbles, trying to push himself upright but stumbling when he realizes his hands are bound together by manacles.

His are not chained to the wall like her own, but they are still heavy steel.

“I’m here Jack, I’m alright,” She can see him turn to her in the dim light, “Banged up, but alright.”

Indignant anger flashes across her husband’s face, “Who did this? What happened-those people!” Jack increasingly gets louder, “The ninja people! They got past our ghost barrier-!”

“They’re not ghosts, hun,” Maddie cuts in, making him look over.

Some of his righteous exuberance fades, “Then why..?”

Maddie shakes her head, immediately regretting it, headache increasing as she tries to talk, “I don’t know. But Jack, Danny’s not here, I don’t know where he is, but he never came home, something’s wrong-“

“Danno!” Jack yells, looking frantically over the group through the bars between them.

Finally, his volume seems to rouse the others. Sam and Tucker both wake with a lurch, Jazz soon on their heels with a groan.

“Danny!” Sam yells, looking around them, “They got Danny!”

“And my tech!” Tucker yells, hands patting himself down.

Sam glares at him, “That’s what you’re worrying about?!”

“What, like having a satellite capable PDA wouldn’t be helpful right now!? Danny told us to run, you’re the one who made us stay-!”

“We weren’t gonna leave him-“

“Oh well look at us now, we’re not doing much better than-“

“Kids!” Maddie yells, and their heads snap over to her, “What are you talking about? Where’s Danny?”

For some reason they both seem to glance at Jazz before answering, receiving a hesitant nod.

Sam started, “We don’t know where he is now, but we were walking home and something exploded-“

“We thought it was just another ghost attack!” Tucker cut in, looking increasingly distressed, “But then Danny was fighting off these freaky ninja people, and telling us to run-“

“But we couldn’t just leave him there! We tried to help-

“There were so many, and they grabbed us and then we saw them grab Danny and…-“ Tucker stopped, looking down at the chains on his wrists, “And then we woke up here…Mrs.Fenton, where are we?”

“I don’t know, hun,” Maddie looked at her son’s friend, then to her own daughter, her husband, “But we’ll figure it out. And then we’re going to find Danny.”

Jack beamed at her, his trust in her confidence shining through.

She wished she believed it even half as much.

——

The first time they come, a group of five people, still dressed in black, weapons lining their body, Maddie yells and shouts. Demands they tell her where Danny is. They are silent.

They methodically go to each of their cells in pairs, one pointing a gun and the other setting down a bag of food. Military rations.

She screams and yells the entire time.

When they go to Maddie’s cell last, removing one arm from her shackles so she can eat, she takes advantage, lashing out with a yell and just as much anger as vicious desperation.

She punches the one nearest, a sloppy front kick displacing the other’s gun pointed at her.

Before she can attack again, one arm still pulled back to the wall behind her, the click of a safety coming off silences her.

The rest of the chapter is thru Ao3, cuz Tumblr says its too long. *^*

Tags:

@thecrystallabyrinth @isnt-that-grape @riverdancingwerewolves @mimblizzy @chaos-deimos-et-eris @miraculousandmore2 @mys-tia @jitteryjuttury @moonlight-opal @nerdypaintbrush @thedragonqueen1998 @luminanightfall @cowarddragon @cyrwrites @kamireadsmcu @manapeer @imaginationmademanifest

[froggibus]

Vermillion Flames - Blackwatch! Genji

Pairing: Blackwatch! Genji Shimada x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: angst, smut/NSFW

Word Count: 4.7k

Summary: Genji is the newest addition to Blackwatch, and while he seems to be angry at everything, his anger seems to be clouded over by something else—his feelings for you

CW: dubcon, dark! Genji, Blackwatch! Genji, dom! Genji, sub! reader, dacryphilia, masturbation, marking, choking, possessiveness, unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, breeding? kinda, violence, reader gets shot, mutual pining, Genji is a lil obsessive

THIS IS NOT THE HAPPY, WELL-ADJUSTED GENJI WE KNOW AND LOVE. THIS IS A DARKER, BLACKWATCH GENJI WHO IS STILL COPING WITH HIS THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS AFTER THE INCIDENT.

I’ve had this idea for a really long time and at one point was writing a full length fic about this, but I always lose motivation so here is the bite sized version lol. I kinda tried to keep his character here while also playing to the darker elements, especially his feelings towards himself and others after the accident. also I’m just super down bad for dark! Genji so enjoy <3

————

If there’s anything you’ve come to learn in your time as a Blackwatch agent, it’s how to know when you’re being watched. 

Despite stepping off of the jet into the cold Russian air, you feel the warm sting of eyes on your back. You glance over your shoulder—but the only people around are your teammates. 

Cole Cassidy isn’t even looking your way, his focus is on the holster attached to his belt and the Peacekeeper that sits inside of it. 

Gabriel Reyes has his holopad out, eyes narrowed at the schematics on his screen. He doesn’t seem aware of what’s going on around him, but you know Reyes—he’s always watching. 

Moira O’Deorain hasn’t even stepped off of the jet yet. Your best guess is she’s still gathering all of her equipment into a bag that she’ll force Cassidy to carry later on. 

So that leaves Genji. The mysterious cyborg is the newest addition to your team and he’s kept to himself the past few weeks. You’d be lying if you said he hadn’t caught your eye, but you knew better. Reyes and Cassidy had constantly reminded you that he was dangerous, unstable. Still, the dangerous air to him sends electricity arcing up your back.

You shrug it off. Maybe you’re just paranoid because you’re about to infiltrate a terrorist organization. You turn back to the terrain ahead. 

Genji Shimada can’t seem to tear his eyes off of you. Something about the sway of your hips, the swell of your ass, just captivates him. Dark eyes stare at you, shockwaves rushing through his system. 

It’s been so long since a woman has been able to capture his attention. Ever since he became the cyborg monstrosity he sees himself as, he hasn’t had time for women. Or more accurately, women don’t want a robot for a boyfriend. 

He suppresses a sigh. The group has already started trekking through the snow, and he has no choice but to follow. The cold air does wonders to suppress the heat rushing through him, and he’s grateful for his mask so that no one sees the red tinge to his face. He forces his eyes to look at the horizon, to look at the path ahead, to look anywhere but you.

The trek to the facility feels like an eternity, and you’re not sure if it’s from the eyes burning into you or the deep snow, or some combination of both. 

You shake it off. You can’t afford to be distracted on this mission, and Genji is off limits. 

—

Genji is less than enthused when Reyes pairs him off with you. He couldn’t help but notice the way you shrunk in on yourself when Reyes called his name. He hates how the sight sends blood rushing through him.

The two of you set out on sneaking through the vents of the facility, blindly feeling your way through the dark in hopes to find the lab. You can hear Genji breathing behind you and see the red glow of his armor reflected on the vents. Having him behind you now, nowhere to stare but you, only confirms what you thought earlier. He was looking at you. You’re not sure how to feel about that. 

You’re so distracted by his presence that you don’t realize the loose grate beneath you until you’re falling through it, tumbling towards the ground. You barely manage to brace yourself before you hit the rubber floor of the facility, using your momentum to roll. 

Unfortunately, your entrance was less than graceful and now the Talon agents in the room are staring at you. 

Genji groans, shaking his head at you. Great. He watches as one of the agents hits the panic button, and red lights and an alarm start blaring. He watches from the vent, waiting to see what you’ll do. 

The agents in the room flee, but they’re replaced by other agents in full body armor, carrying pulse rifles. You stand your ground, extending out your bo staff and spinning it in front of you with expert grace. 

If he wasn’t so pissed off at you, Genji would be impressed. 

He lets you fight off the first wave on your own, but as soon as the agents start to overwhelm you, he’s dropping out of the vent. He lands silently, the agents not even noticing him until he’s slicing through their ranks. 

You finish off the last of your agents and freeze, watching him fight. He’s a blur of silver and black and red, a gory mess but beautiful in the same sense a graveyard is. Watching him now, you see why Cass and Reyes had warned you about him—you can almost see the ghosts of his past following him through the fight. 

You’re so distracted, so infatuated, you don’t notice the stray bullet headed straight for you. 

Genji reacts before you do, diving in front of you and deflecting it into the straggling agent. The agent collapses to the ground, a hole burning in his chest armor. 

“T-thank you.”

Genji spins around, staring down at you. He’s not very tall, but he just seems so much bigger than you right now. You wait for him to say something, anything, but instead he just sighs. 

The two of you make your way through the facility as quietly as you can, blending into the shadows casted by the blinking red lights. Every once in a while, Genji grabs your wrist harshly to tug you along with him. You don’t need words to know he’s pissed at you. 

He’s so mad at you, so frustrated with your inability to focus. And yet a stupid part of him still wants to protect you.

The journey back to the jet feels like an eternity, made worse by Genji’s complete and utter silence. You try to make conversation with him, avoiding bringing up what just happened, but it only seems to make him more angry. He walks slightly ahead of you, refusing to let himself look at you. 

The emotions swelling in his chest are so confusing, he just wants to hit something. He’s so angry at you, and your stupid sunshine persona just keeps talking and talking. He’s half tempted to tell you to shut up, stop talking, but he knows he has to keep it together until you’re back to safety. And though he’s angry, another part of him isn’t.

It’s the first time in months he’s felt something that wasn’t riddled in angst and guilt, and he hates it. He hates that he wants to just look at you. Just stare at you for hours on end. He hates the way you make his heart race and the blood rush to his groin. 

Just before you make it to the jet, a few meters from where the ramp is down and you’re sure Reyes and Cass and Moira are waiting, you try to catch up with Genji.

You jog up to his side, trying to grab his shoulder to get his attention. “Hey, I’m really sorry for—”

Genji spins around impossibly fast, catching your wrist in his metal palm. He squeezes it enough for it to hurt. You try to pull away but he keeps you there—a display of his strength, and the difference between the two of you. You hate the way it makes your heart speed up in spite of the pain. 

“Don’t.” He simply says, but he doesn’t let go of your wrist. 

His tone catches you by surprise. You’ve barely ever talked to him, and now he sounds so angry with you, it makes you shiver. 

You glare at him, waiting for him to say something else. He glares back, red eyes narrowing in on you. When your eyes meet, there’s that electricity again. You wonder if he feels it too. 

Then, as if nothing happened, he drops your wrist and boards the plane. You catch your aching wrist, rubbing at the sore skin, before following him onto the jet. 

—

You’re pulled into Morrison’s office almost as soon as you land back at HQ. Reyes follows you in, ready to both berate and defend you in front of his closest comrade. You stand the whole time, fingers fiddling with the foam head of the chair next to Reyes. 

You zone out while Jack yells, staring at the wall above his head, waiting for it to be over. Everything he’s saying is true—you were reckless, distracted, stupid. You could have gotten everybody killed, one more mistake like this and there won’t be a place for you within Blackwatch anymore. 

Genji listens from the other side of the door. He tried to stop himself, but the look on your face when Reyes started to guide you down the hall changed his mind. You looked so scared. He wasn’t going to let you face that alone. 

Everytime Jack raises his voice, Genji’s hand clenches the door handle, ready to burst into the room. Yet he doesn’t, because everytime, you just say ‘yes sir’ in that cute obedient voice that’s driving him crazy. 

At a particularly loud burst, he’s turning the handle when he hears the loud clicking of boots behind him. 

“Don’t,” Cassidy warns, “it ain’t worth it.”

He spins around, squinting at the cowboy. They’ve barely interacted, but when they have, it’s been brief. 

“Y/n made the mistake, y/n’s gotta pay for it. Simple.” 

Genji takes a deep breath. He knows he’s right, it’s none of Genji’s business. But something about being told to leave you alone, let you face this alone, makes him so angry. He can feel the blood rush to his ears. 

“I don’t know if I like you muckin’ about in their business, anyway.” He raises an eyebrow at the cyborg, “y/n’s a good person.” 

Though he doesn’t say it, the implication is loud and clear. You’re a good person, he’s not. Still, being told to stay away from you only makes him want to be with you more. He hates it. 

“Just,” the cowboy sighs, taking back his earlier judgment. “Don’t do anything stupid.” He turns on his heel and walks down the hallway, spurs clicking the whole way. 

They’ve been talking for so long that the meeting is almost over, and Genji only has a few seconds to dash down the hall before the door is swinging open. 

You tug on your hair in frustration, forcing yourself to keep your feelings in until you get to your room. You scream as soon as your door closes behind you, kicking a pile of clothes in frustration. 

You pull off your suit, toss it with the clothes, and collapse in a heap on your bed. You fucked up so bad, you really, really fucked up. And it’s all because of that stupid fucking cyborg and his stupid fucking attitude. 

You lay there in your underwear for god knows how long, sobbing out your frustrations for the day. 

Genji sits in his bed on the other side of the wall. He can hear you, and a part of him wants to comfort you. But another, darker part of him just wants to see you cry. He shakes his head—when did he get so fucked up?

Still, he can’t help but seethe. He’s the only one who should be making you cry like this, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be from him yelling at you. God. 

He tugs off his visor and slams it on his nightstand. He doesn’t even know how to deal with his feelings anymore. It’s been so long since he’s felt anything but this burning anger, and the combination of these emotions are driving him crazy. You’re driving him crazy. 

It’s like his attraction has dialed up to 11, and he doesn’t know how to cope. 

He can still hear your sobs from the other side of the wall, and he hates the way it makes his cock swell. It hurts—straining against the metal plate of his armor. 

He groans, part pain, part pleasure. He hates his body, he hates his stupid robot parts. And the fact that he can’t even get a hard on anymore without it hurting makes him hate everything even more. 

He strips out of his armor, peeling away the metal parts that he can, despising the ones he can’t. Still, he’s happy that his cock is free, the fresh air feeling amazing on his sensitive head. 

He spits in his hand, spreading out the moisture on the shaft of his cock. He focuses on the sound of your crying through the walls, shutting his eyes and rubbing himself while he listens to it. You sound so pretty, so weak. He loves it. 

He only wishes he was in there with you.

He speeds up his movements, thrusting into his hand. He can picture it so well—him pinning you to the bed, fucking you until you cry like that. Listening to you beg and whine and sob all night. 

He’s finishing in his hand before he can finish the fantasy, wiping off the cum with a tissue and tossing it in the trash. 

He lays back in bed. What the fuck is wrong with me? He was never like this before, never into stuff like this before. And he knows a part of him will never be the same since the accident, but he didn’t know it would be like this. 

He wants to protect you. He wants to avoid you. He wants to fuck you, he wants to make you cry. He wants to make you feel better, he wants to take care of you. It makes his head spin. He’s never been obsessed like this before. 

He shakes his head. He needs to stay away from you before this gets any worse. 

—

Genji avoids you like the plague after that. He always chooses to spar with Cass during training, he refuses to be your partner on missions, and when he is, he just ignores you the whole time. 

You’re not even sure what you did wrong. You know there was that weird, tense moment after you messed up that mission, but you didn’t think that was reason enough to hate you. The whole enigma of him makes your head spin, but it’s so alluring that you couldn’t hate him even if you wanted to. 

Sometimes you catch him staring at you, red eyes examining you like prey, but as soon as you notice it, it’s done. You’re not one to talk though—sometimes you catch yourself zoning out on him, watching his arms as he trains, watching his sweaty black hair falling in his face. 

The tension between you two is suffocating. 

So of course Reyes has to assign him to be your partner on an undercover mission in London. 

The mission starts off normal, but so did all of the other ones. Genji keeps a close eye on you, ready to make sure you don’t get distracted and fuck up again. Still, he’s the one that’s distracted. Ever since that day in his room when he got off on hearing you cry, his feelings towards you have only grown. 

He shakes his head and forces himself to focus. He can’t afford to get distracted here—not when either one of you could get hurt in the process. 

The rooftops of London are completely empty, and so are the streets, surprisingly. The two of you creep around, trying to make your way to the stakeout point so you can observe a secret meetup. The air smells of petrichor, the sky threatening to open up and pour down on you. You wouldn’t complain if it did. You need something to cool you off from the thoughts you’ve been having about Genji. 

You make it to the designated spot, setting up your stuff. You radio to Reyes that you’ve arrived at the vantage point and he radios back that the deal should be happening at any minute. 

Any minute, which is code for anytime in the next hour. You hope it’s sooner rather than later so you don’t have to deal with this awkward silence. You fiddle with your fingers, tapping them on your knees. 

Genji watches you closely. He watches the way you mess around with your fingers, watches your chest with every breath you take. That costume fits you perfectly, and he hates the idea that other people get to see you like this. 

The meeting happens only a few minutes after you arrive, a tall omnic dressed in a suit emerging from the shadows to deal with a scraggly looking man. Genji observes them closely while you take pictures, capturing everything they do. 

Something seems wrong, though. They’re not exchanging goods like the intel said they would be. In fact, it doesn’t seem like a secret meeting at all. Genji realizes it’s a trap a second too late, only managing to shove you down as a bullet rips across the landscape. 

It grazes your shoulder, a burning pain spreading through your body. You collapse to the ground with a whine, Genji landing on top of you. He presses his hand to your mouth to keep you quiet. 

You’re in so much pain—you’re not sure you’ve ever felt this way before. It burns and it aches and it feels as though you’ve been ripped apart. Genji presses down on the wound and a scream leaves your throat just as another bullet rips through the air. 

It just barely misses the top of Genji’s head. 

“Stay here,” he breathes heavily, suddenly pouncing to his feet. 

That’s the most he’s spoken to you in weeks, and it’s the first thing you’ve heard him say without that tone behind it. You watch as he stands up and draws his sword, challenging the sniper to shoot again. 

They do, and Genji is ready. He deflects it back perfectly, the clang of metal on metal replacing the sound of the shot. There’s a yelp from far away, and satisfied that he’s got them, Genji returns to your side. 

Only, you’ve lost so much blood that you’re barely coherent. “Fuck!” He taps your face, willing you to stay with him, but you drift off. 

—

You wake up in a hotel room, body aching in the clean linen sheets. Your shoulder burns, and then you remember what happened. You sit up quickly, tugging off your shirt to examine the wound. It’s been cleaned and bandaged, under a huge patch of blood stained gauze. 

You sigh in relief. You’re not dead—but you would be if it weren’t for Genji.

The hotel room is fairly clean, aside from your bloody uniform that’s laying on the ground next to the bed. You blink a few times. You were on a mission—where did you get a spare change of clothes? Did Genji go shopping?

As if on cue, Genji speaks from where he’s sitting near the closed curtains. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I got shot,” you admit. 

He nods, clearly not in a joking mood. “They won’t be able to extract us until tomorrow morning. Reyes set up this room for us and sent the extra clothes.”

That makes sense. There’s no way they’d be able to get you two out of the streets without drawing attention, especially after shots were fired. 

You rub the seam of the gauze, trailing over the wound subconsciously. 

“We should change that.”

You follow him into the bathroom, awkwardly sitting on the counter while he pulls out a grocery bag of first aid supplies. You pull off your shirt, embarrassed at the prospect of him seeing you half naked. At least you were unconscious and didn’t have to deal with the humiliation last time. 

You don’t miss the way Genji’s eyes graze over your skin, tracing the outline of your collarbone. It makes you heat up, thoughts of him kissing you there flooding your mind. You shake them away—he’s just helping you out. It’s wrong to think of him this way. 

 He peels off the old gauze covering, discarding it in the trash, before dabbing alcohol across the wound. 

You watch him work, fingers knowing what to do without him even thinking about it. He traces the outline of the gauze after he places it on your skin, cold metal fingers settling the hotter parts of you. 

You shiver under his touch, looking up at him. Genji looks back, dark eyes meeting your softer ones. You offer him a gentle grin. 

His hand moves from your shoulder to your hip, squeezing it. He finds himself leaning in, and you find yourself getting closer. And then just before your lips touch, he pulls away like he’s been burned. 

“G-Genji?”

He shakes his head, storming out of the bathroom. You follow after him, not even bothering to tug your shirt back on. 

“Don’t come near me!”

You furrow your brows at his words. “What? What’s going on? Did I do something wrong? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks!”

He tugs on his hair, repeatedly shaking his head at you. You can see the way his muscles are tensing, see the way he’s trying to show restraint. But why? 

“Genji,” you step closer to him cautiously, like you’re approaching a wild animal. “What is it?”

He keeps shaking his head, eyes focused on the floor, ignoring you completely. You take another step, only inches from him now. 

“Genji.”

“I’m a fucking monster, okay?” His outburst makes you flinch but you hold your ground. “I’m not even human anymore, and I have all these sick fucking thoughts about what I want to do to you and—you should just stay away from me, okay?”

“What kind of sick thoughts?”

“You don’t want to know,” his eyes finally meet yours. 

You step an inch closer, standing on your toes so that your mouth hovers near his. “I think I do.”

“Y/n,” he warns. 

You ignore the warning. You ignore all of the red flags. You ignore the voice in your head that says maybe this isn’t the best idea. You jump into his arms, smashing your lips against his and wrapping your legs around his waist. 

He turns you around to slam you into the wall, being careful to avoid reopening your wound. He’s so hungry for you, so desperate. His lips nip at yours like a man starved, all he wants, all he needs right now is to have you. 

He carries you over to the bed, tossing you into it before climbing on top of you and ripping off your pants. You’re left naked, shivering in anticipation at what he’s going to do to you. 

You don’t know how deep his cybernetic parts run, you hardly know anything about him, but he’s all you want. You tug him to you by his hair, making him kiss you again. One of his metal thighs slips between your legs, giving you something to grind your wet pussy against while you make out. 

His lips move down to your neck, biting at the sensitive skin. Moans force their way out of your throat, the sting of his teeth breaking the skin making your eyes water. 

Genji pulls back, looking at your teary eyes. The thought of finally having you like this, so vulnerable underneath him, is enough to make him feral. 

His hand is slipping between your legs, shoving two fingers inside of you with ease. Your wet pussy gushes around him, begging him for more. You whine at his roughness—but it’s so fucking good. 

He shoves them in and out of you, curling them inside of you in a way that makes your eyes roll back. His mouth finds its way to your tits, biting your nipple hard enough to make you gasp. The sound has his cock swelling even more, straining against the metal. 

He slips a third finger in you, stretching you out in such a delicious, amazing way. You moan his name, trying to let him know you’re getting close, but Genji is too drunk on the feeling of you to listen. 

He keeps attacking your chest with his mouth, leaving bruises and bite marks across your skin. It’s his way of marking his territory, of showing everyone who you belong to. 

He’s wanted this for so long, and he’s going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you. 

You cum hard on his fingers, and Genji stops just to watch how pretty you look when you cum. He pulls his fingers out of you, sucking off the juices and moaning at the taste. 

The sight of him is enough to make you horny again, and suddenly you’re thrusting your hips in the air, desperate for any sort of contact. 

“So desperate,” he teases. 

“I-I—”

He mocks you, popping off the metal plate from his crotch and stroking his cock. He rubs his head through your folds, collecting up your slick on his shaft. You’re already ready for him, your first orgasm prepping you more than enough.

He pushes his whole cock in, your walls straining to take him. He can’t quite get his whole length inside of you, so he pulls out and shoves it in again. He watches as he sinks in and out of you, the last two inches of his cock staying outside of the wetness he longs to be in. 

He’s bigger than you’re used to, and your pussy is already so sensitive. That doesn’t stop Genji, though. He keeps slamming his hips into yours, trying to force his cock inside of you. You whimper with every thrust, almost screaming when he hits that spot deep inside of you. 

Genji rolls his hips into yours, thrusting hard and deep. He grabs at your neck, strong hand gently squeezing. You gasp at the sudden feeling and the lack of oxygen, but the burning in your throat feels so good you don’t want him to stop. Everything starts to get fuzzy, and the feeling of Genji railing you starts to feel even better. 

You don’t even realize you’re cumming until he releases his grip on your throat and lets you breathe. The blood rushes to your ears. Your eyes have teared up from the choking, a few tears rolling down your cheeks. You go to wipe them away, but Genji pins your wrists above your head. 

The sight of you lying beneath him, whimpering and crying like he imagined has him going crazy. He keeps bullying his cock into your swollen pussy, thrusts getting sloppier by the second until he fully bottoms out and pumps his cum inside of you. 

“G-Genji,” you breathe. “Did—did you just—”

Genji’s too drunk on your pussy to listen, fucking his cum back inside of you. The hot mixture of his cum and your juices being fucked inside of you has you curling your toes. 

His pace is brutal, his mind only set on fucking you full and keeping you stuffed. He pushes your legs up into your stomach, fucking you into a mating press. 

Your vision blurs from the tears, your nerves overloading from the overstimulation and making you shiver. Genji fucks you through it, pounding into you, sure to get his entire length in every time. It’s not long before you’re cumming again, your body convulsing with your orgasm. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, but Genji holds them in place while he finishes fucking you. 

He reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, the sight of you sobbing only making him fuck you harder. God, he’s wanted this for so long and he’ll do anything to keep it. Anything as long as he gets to keep fucking you like this. 

“G-gonna finish inside of you,” he groans. “Gonna stuff you full. Y-you like that?”

You nod furiously, but you’re so fucked out that he could do anything to you at this point and you wouldn’t care. Genji cums with a string of moans and curses, cock twitching inside of you. 

He doesn’t pull out, instead, he lays on his side and tugs you so your back is pressed against his chest. He keeps his cock inside of you, holding his cum inside.

It’s not long before you’re falling asleep, Genji’s fingers tracing patterns on your stomach. For the first time in a long time, he feels like the anger and the darkness within him are sated, and for now, that’s more than enough.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

The Aftershock

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: minor angst

Summary: The after-effects of taking the Mark creep in slowly and you’re not sure if taking it on was the best thing for you. Dean once had it so you go to him in hopes he might have tips on how to manage the anger you know you’ll experience.

Past, Present, and Future Masterlist

Square Filled: "Did you forget who you're talking to?" (crossover bingo) for @fandombingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“What, in your head, told you that taking on something like the Mark of Cain was a good idea? Do you realize what could happen?”

“I know, Stephen, but Dean and Sam needed me. What was I supposed to do? Let them suffer?”

“No, you were supposed to use rational thought.”

“What do you want me to do now? You have magic. Take it off me.”

“It’s not that simple.” Stephen turns and curses under his breath. “Let me figure this out. This is exactly why I didn’t want you going off on your own.”

“I’m not a child, Stephen,” you glare.

“Your action proves otherwise.”

Stephen told you to stay close but there is one place you want to be at, and it’s nowhere near New York. He’s a smart man. He’ll find a way to get you out of this before something bad happens. The Mark is starting to mess with your head so you go to the one person who might understand how to make you feel better.

You don’t knock and sneak inside the same way you did when you first entered the Bunker. There is noise coming from the kitchen where Dean is, and his back is turned to you as he does the dishes. He doesn’t notice you standing there until he turns to grab two dirty dishes off the kitchen island.

“Shit!” he jumps. “What are you doing here? You scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumble and scratch your arm absentmindedly.

“Are you okay? Are we okay? Tell me we didn’t do anything bad.”

“No, everything is okay, still. How is Sam doing?”

“Okay. He doesn’t remember much from his time as a demon albeit it short. He thinks it’s from the stress. I don’t know.”

“That’s good,��� you nod, distracted.

“Is everything okay?”

“I need you to be honest with me.” He doesn’t say anything but patiently waits for you to continue. “How was life with the Mark?”

“Honestly? A nightmare. I was angry all the time. I was lashing out at people, and I had the urge to kill anything in sight. The Mark is a curse. It wants you to feed it with power. It never stopped… itching.” Dean looks at your hand scratching the arm your mark is on. “Kind of like what you’re doing now.”

“I feel bad for what I did to you and Sam which is why I took this mark. Now… I’m trying really hard not to let it affect my powers.”

Dean dries his hands and leaves the remaining dirty dishes in the sink before grabbing your hand.

“Come on. I have something that might help you with that.” He takes you down to the shooting range where everything is stocked and ready to use. “Have you ever shot a gun?”

“I have a powerful infinity stone on my wrist. Does it look like I need to shoot a gun?”

“Don’t be rude,” he says. “It’s always a good skill to have and right now, you’re going to learn.”

Dean grabs one of the smaller guns and stands behind you. You’re about to turn to face him when he puts one of his warm hands on your waist. Something blossoms in your stomach like tiny little glitters floating around. He pulls you into his wait and those glitters explode into butterflies. What is this feeling? Why do I like it so much?

Dean wraps his arms around your body and puts the gun in your hands with his on top of yours. He positions you where he needs you and removes his hands from your own but keeps them on your body.

“Focus on the target ahead of you. Aim and follow through. When you’re ready, pull the trigger.”

You aim the gun at your target and much like what you do with your powers, you focus on your target alone. You pull the trigger and shoot the target right between the eyes.

“You’re a natural,” he grins.

He runs his hands down your arms to your waist and settles on your hips. Your breathing picks up slightly and it’s not from the anxiety you feel. You hate this—not Dean this—the Mark this. You were always calm and collected, and you never lost your cool because you knew you were so much higher than mere humans. Call that arrogance but you never had a reason to feel things like anxiety, anger, and lust.

Just another thing this damn mark did you.

You turn in Dean’s arms so you’re less than a foot away from his face. He glances down at your lips before looking into your eyes.

“I don’t think this will work. Do you have something else to try?”

“Yeah, follow me.”

He pauses for two seconds before moving away from you. You see the hesitation in his eyes and you’re not sure if it’s hesitation for you or what you two are about to do next.

He takes you upstairs to the library where his precious mini bar is. After six months in the Bunker, he bought a mini bar on wheels where he keeps his good alcohol. He rolls the bar over to one of the tables and sits down before putting his feet up. You sit across from him and he leisurely pours you two a drink.

“I read alcohol isn’t the best when you have bottled up emotions on the internet.”

“Don’t listen to everything you read online.” He slides you a half-poured whiskey drink without ice. “Sip, don’t chug.” You grab the glass and take a small sip not expecting it to taste like shit. “Yeah, it’s an acquired taste.”

“Oh, God,” you cough.

“Never had alcohol before, huh?”

“I may have been born before time but I’m fairly young. Stephen only made me a person a few years ago.” Dean takes a big sip of his drink and sighs. “So, the Mark was a nightmare?”

“For me, yeah, but you’re not human. You’ll have a different experience than me. If anyone can do it and still stay good, it’s you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“No, I don’t, but we never had powers that are older than time.”

You take another sip of your drink and scrunch your face up in disgust.

“I’m scared I’m going to hurt people. It was my choice to take but I shouldn’t have done what I did to you and Sam. Before coming to your world, all I saw was a solution to your problem. Put God and Amara away. I did that. I just didn’t think of the consequence it would leave behind.”

“You’ll fight this, Y/N, better than I ever did.”

You tap your fingers on the table rapidly because of your anxiety.

“Do you ever feel like you want to do the right thing and when you do it, it feels like the most wrong thing ever?”

 “Did you forget who you’re talking to?” Dean chuckles. “I didn’t want Sam going through what I went through.”

“I get it,” you nod.

“You are not Sam or me. You’re not going to go through it the same way.”

“I hope not,” you smile sadly. “No offense but this alcohol is making me depressed. Got anything else?”

Dean just smirks. He doesn’t tell you where you’re going, only that you’re going to love it. He takes you to a run-down building in an empty shopping area. It’s nearly closing time but he must have asked the wiener to stay open later just for him.

“Dean, what is this place?”

“A place to channel the rage.” 

After checking in with the owner, he takes you to the back room which is covered with graffiti, spray paint, and broken items everywhere. Dean grabs two baseball bats from the back and tosses one to you.

“What do I do now?”

“Be like the Hulk. Smash absolutely everything.”

Dean takes the first swing at a broken TV and you jump back from the sound. It takes you two seconds before you're swinging your own bat around. Dean jumps back so he doesn’t get hit but he watches you smash things with a smile on his face. You slam the bat into a ceramic vase, and it shatters into a million little pieces.

This is actually kind of fun.

“Check this out!”

You aim your hand at the TV Dean hit and blast it with your powers. You leave a gaping hole in the middle of the TV, and Dean looks at you with a nervous chuckle.

“Why don’t we stick to the bats? I don’t think they’ll appreciate you blowing this place up.”

“Oops,” you giggle.

You and Dean take the entire hour just smashing everything to pieces until there is nothing left to break. You two leave the place with big smiles on your faces despite you still feeling the nagging sensation of the Mark. What Dean did for you helped but now that it’s over, the darkness creeps in slowly.

Dean looks over and sees the look on your face. It’s a look he knows all too well. He opens the passenger door for you but doesn’t let you in the car yet.

“You know what else helps?”

“What?”

“A nice long drive with the windows down. There’s nothing like the open road, rock music, and the wind in your hair.”

“Okay, lead the way, Winchester,” you grin.

You two pile into the car and Dean takes off toward the back roads. The drive back to the Bunker only takes twenty minutes to get from the rage room but the back roads make the journey stretch to nearly an hour. Dean puts on soft rock and allows that to be the only thing to comfort you two in the car.

The windows are down and your hair is blowing gently, and a wave of calmness washes over you. You don’t think it’s the drive or the music but Dean. Being in Dean’s company is the one thing that’s working for you. You look at him to see him with a smile on his face and singing along to the music. He barely looks at you and does a doubletake when he sees you looking at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just… I think I’m going to be okay.”

Dean reaches over and grabs your hand.

“Yeah, I think you will, too.”

x

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[teklarn]

your version of the sky - k. bakugou (1)

katuski bakugou x fem!reader 

genre: (it's a series, there's probably everything LMAO)

QUICK NOTE (PLEASE READ)

summary: sarcastic anti-hero, y/n, a young girl, struggles to see the good in heroes after an incident in her childhood. raised as a hidden member of the League of Villains, she enrolls at U.A with a plan to bring down heroes, but finds her greatest obstacle lies in the form of a blonde boy with anger issues.

"your version of the sky was simply different from mine."

warnings:  cursing (the cursing gets more frequent as the story goes on), gore depictions/slight body horror, (slowburn so it might be boring in the beginning lol)

(other parts linked below)

---

01 - SUNRISE

Katsuki Bakugou had come to know that, from a very young age, music was the best possible escape. 

From friends, from family. 

From the world. 

A song equals a short, three or four minute break (sometimes five) from this reality that he called his. 

He didn't feel obligated to tell people he loved a certain band. A band that should have been his and his alone. He didn't feel the need to tell everyone he loved certain genres. He didn't, because for a moment, it was just his. Even if there were a million other people listening to it at the same time, he felt lost in his own world of notes and vocals and beauty. 

And he was determined to keep those moments just his. So when his friends would pry and annoy him, asking relentlessly as to what he might be listening to, Katsuki would snap harder at them than before. 

Because it was his moment to be alone. His moment to not be scared of the daydreams to come. 

It was why he loved mornings like this. Mornings where he felt like he was seeing the sun for the first time. 

When hues of orange and pink spilled across his floor and everything was quiet except for his headphones, the volume maxed out with one of his many playlists he'd been keeping on repeat for quite a while. 

He swiped at the mirror, foggy from the scalding shower he'd finished just minutes ago, and took in his face of pale skin and his eyes of crimson red.

While Katsuki never cared much for his looks, he knew that he wasn't ugly. His skin was smooth, free of blemishes. His lips a soft pink. 

It wasn't his body or his face or his hair or anything like that. None of that had ever made him insecure. 

It was the idea that someone was ahead of him. It was how everyone was gushing over them. Watching them with awe in their eyes because suddenly, Katsuki's acceleration in comparison to the rest of his class was old news. 

He was no longer the best. 

Well, he was. He was just a boring kind of best. 

The kind of best his peers now rolled their eyes at. Because never once have they seen him fail at something. They were used to Katsuki being Katsuki. And, unfortunately, he was a winner no matter what he did. 

But then comes a stranger with a strange talent. 

You weren't smart, you weren't pretty, you weren't anything. 

So he couldn't see why everyone was so damned obsessed with you. Why was everyone always thinking about your face? About your skills with those purple arrows you formed out of nowhere and your incredible focus to keep your quirk in place and your phenomenal attention to detail... 

And how your quirk was operated by music. 

You stuck those wireless earbuds in and blasted away, thin, purple arrows flying in time with your arms precisely to the beat of the song you were listening to. 

Well, it wasn't operated by music. But manipulating your arrows was difficult and required a lot of focus...or so he had heard. Listening to music helped reduce your headaches and loosen you up. 

Katsuki clenched his fists. He felt foolish for knowing so much. For caring so much. But he wasn't stupid enough to pretend he wasn't focused on you. 

He stretched out his muscles, groaning at the soreness that lingered. Despite the constant scolding he gave Kirishima to not overwork his quirk, Katsuki was a hypocrite. But how else could he get any better? 

Not that he needed to be better than you. Only that...he wanted his spot back. His first place spot. 

Number one belonged to him. He was number one. He shouldn't have to earn his spot back. But yet here Katsuki was, his breathing heavy, his nails digging into his palms, leaving behind crescent moon imprints in his frustration. 

He'd spent a great portion of his life being angry. But this time...he was furious. He couldn't stand not being on top. Couldn't stand the thought of having someone like you above him. Because you were boring and weak, and he hated you. 

You had him gritting his teeth, clenching his fists, nawing at his bottom lip until he peeled skin and drew blood. You had him panicking. 

- 

Years ago, your mother had been murdered by a pro-hero. It has been ten years since you were just a five-year-old girl gawking at the television. 

His name was Endeavor. A disgusting excuse for a hero. 

He was rude and brash and truly cared nothing for the people he served. You could see through his mask of fire. Desire was driving that man insane. 

You saw it on the faces of many heroes. 

Because who was going to endanger their lives every single day for the rest of their lives just because they were 'good people?'

Simply put, no one. 

Heroes are there to show us we should be good people. Heroes don't tell us that good deeds shouldn't be boasted or bragged about. 

But the whole point of heroism was to show the world that you were a good enough person to make more money than the average worker. 

It was embarrassing, truly. 

And so were villains. 

Your mother was tied down by a man who she had once mistaken for a lover. And while she despised him more than anything, you did not. She told you not to. Something she always reminded you of was that you should love your father. 

He might be mean sometimes, but he is still your father. 

And so you loved him. 

Unfortunately, your father and mother's romance had left you in messy apartments and wet mattresses as a child. Alone, most of the time. 

Up until your mother's death, at least. 

A hero's job was to minimize damage, to save people. But it was impossible to completely avoid casualties.

You'd grown up with the fear of the news and your mother's name being plastered on a headline. Most of the time, a child's nightmares doesn't come true. Because often, a child's nightmares consist of bedtime monsters, not heroes.

But yet, there it was, sliding across the bottom of the television like some insignificant sponsor at a sporting event. But that headline still remained everything for you. 

When your father had come to get you that day, you were a stubborn, whiny, kicking child. Not much has changed since then. 

Only your surroundings. 

The walls were brown instead of a grey-ish white now. And there was company here, too. Most of the time. 

A crazy bunch of people who you now had the guts to call your family. It was home, minus the presence of your mother's sweet face. And while you loved these people to death, they were just as screwed up as the heroes. 

They had a screwed view of what power is, but more than that, how it should be utilized, as did your heroes. 

There was one reoccurring problem you saw with the world. 

An issue you'd spent years dissecting, a plan you'd spent even longer formulating. 

On the mornings where you were able to drag yourself out of bed before sunrise, (which was, surprisingly, most mornings) you worked and worked. Perfecting your work more than it could be perfected. 

You watched the serums drip into one another, green swirling into a dull yellow liquid, the reaction slow. Yet, for the next hour, you waited patiently. The process was painfully slow. Most days it was. It was rare to have some exciting reaction. 

But those were the ones you should avoid the most. The explosions, the rattles in the glass beakers. 

You tapped your foot to the beat of the music you were listening to, nodding your head as you stirred the two liquids together more. You'd let it sit until tonight. Then you'd leave to test it. 

You poured the serum into a syringe. Careful. Precise. Unmistakably perfect. Then, quietly, you stuffed it behind scattered papers and folders at the back of the drawer in your desk. The League didn't quite care what you did in your room and didn't bother to snoop, but there was always the odd chance one of them could. And should they discover what you were up to, it could be the end for you and everyone else. 

So you shut the drawer and wandered to the bathroom,  appearing nonchalant about the entire thing. 

You dressed for the day, following your normal routine as usual. However, that also consisted of your mind being trained on one thing and one thing only. 

That serum at the back of your desk and the thing you'd been hoping it was capable of accomplishing for years. 

The issue that birthed this idea... 

The messy world of heroes and villains. 

These battling perspectives of good and evil. 

But there was one common thing about heroes and villains. 

Without these powers, none of this would be happening. 

You, at a very young age, had come to know that this world had a common issue: too many superpowers in the world. 

---

UNEDITED (wc: 1528)

teklarn's masterlists

[notmorbid]

monstrilio.

dialogue prompts from monstrilio by gerardo sámano córdova.

you know how to love me the best.

i need to love someone who won't disintegrate.

why didn't you come back sooner?

extraordinary things happen everywhere, all the time.

maybe if i try hard enough, i can be everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

i know you think you're alone. that your grief is only your own.

you have no heart.

i need you to come back. i want you here.

god chooses who he cares for, and he didn't choose us.

god has too many rules, anyway. do you really want to follow so many rules?

i don't think we're ever too old for dancing.

i'll keep your secret for a week.

you have your anger, and i have mine.

i'm worried that i bore you.

i can't stay here by myself.

write yourself a new role.

i remember what loving you felt like.

i stopped missing you a while ago.

i was afraid of my loneliness.

i had two emotions: fear and anger.

it really doesn't matter if i love you or not.

what if love doesn't make you feel better?

i want to help you. like you helped me.

i would excel in a zombie apocalypse.

i hate talking to people i don't know.

just the person i wanted. it's like i summoned you.

maybe it's okay that we taste bitter to each other.

i thought this place was invincible.

let's get you some clothes.

i wanted tonight to be special.

if you love someone, you shouldn't want to change them.

it's good you're leaving. you're bigger than all of this. bigger than us.

i'll be okay? you promise?

how do you find these places?

even i am capable of getting over things.

thinking tires me out.

art has no answer, no right way to be.

what's more human than wanting to kiss someone?

isn't that what couples do, tell each other things? secrets?

why is it sometimes people don't do what they want to do?

you can tell me. i won't be mad.

i don't have the energy to be annoyed.

are you embarrassed of me?

how do you make sure people don't stop liking you?

i wish i smoked. i'd have something to do besides pace.

what is it you're so afraid to tell me?

it's hard to focus on one feeling.

i won't abandon you again.

when people don't understand you, you can say anything you want.

may i touch you?

there are no monsters in these shadows. only me.

the pills make me care less.

no more running away.

you don't have to worry anymore.

[sere-rine]

~Your One and Only Protector~

SGE <Movie version>  Imagine (Lady Lesso x Fem Reader)

Warning: Fluff

----------

Woods are scaringly fascinating for an ever like you. It holds a lot of danger yet it is the most peaceful place you can find in this world of what they say is "balance".

You climb a tree with the help of Gale, and sit on one of it's higher branches and heave a sigh releasing all your anger towards a certain dean of the school.

Before the school being combined, you and Lady Lesso have a few small dispute that happens to be the one that is making your life like hell.

You missed Agatha so much for she is the only one who knows and who listens to all your rants about that Lady Lesso.

Now that Agatha left and the school is one, every single damn time that you walked into the hall you can see her which makes your blood boil all the time. She always looked at you with condescending eyes and Dovey would just elbow her and you will walk fast past them. 

You look at your surroundings and your view is no less than magnificent. You can see the whole school from where you are and you can observe from here. You don’t have any company but Gale, who is giving you a light refreshing breeze to help you calm down from your anger. But everytime you get to remember why you are angry, the temperature is starting to drop. 

~~~~~

“A princess is not supposed to hold a sword Y/n.” Lady Lesso said out of nowhere while you are busy practicing alone on the gym. You stopped at what you are doing and face her way. You try to meet her eyes but you are unsuccessful for her gaze are somewhere else.

You are wearing a white tanked top paired with black cycling shorts. You are filled with sweats and probably dehydrated. You make your way into the nearest bench where your towel and bottled water are placed. You hung your towel onto your shoulder and drank your water to satisfy your thirst. You did all of that with Lady Lesso’s eyes are scanning you making you feel conscious about the way you look. You are princess after all, you may be practicing to hold a sword but still appearance is one hell of a requirement for all of you evers. 

“What are you looking at Professor?” You asked after a minute of her feeding at your sight. She shrugged whatever thought she has and then she looked at your orbs. 

“Like I’ve said, princesses shouldn’t be bothered learning to hold a sword.” You scoffed at her statement and wiped your sweat. From your forehead to your cheeks down to your neck and chest. You didn’t notice how her eyes followed the strokes of your towel and how she gulped at the sight. 

“And do you think I care?” You asked her almost daring her to say something. She didn’t so you put the sword that you’re holding up to show it to her. “This sword is one of the most precious possession my mother have professor. I need to be worthy of wielding this.” You said while looking at the frozen sword. A ray of light from a window that is reflected at it is almost blinding you but that stopped when a slender hand with long black nails, holds the sword blocking the light.  

“Ahh of course. You, Princess Y/N of Arendelle, daughter of Queen Anna and King Kristoff, always trying to prove your worthy for the people of your kingdom. Your mother who claims to be inlove with a man who she met just a day. And your father who seems crazy talking to reindeer.” She said in a mocking tone making you furious. 

“How dare you talk to my parents like that?” You spat at her but all she did was to look down at you. 

“All i’m saying is stop this thing.” She tried to get my sword out of your grasp but you didn’t let her. You stepped backward and you get all of your things, ready to leave the gym. “Just leave me alone.” She was taken aback of what you have said.

“You are a princess, you should focus on how to keep yourself pretty and how to earn your first kiss. You’ll probably going to have a hard time to get yourself a prince before the Ball because of how you act. You have your mother’s stubbornness and yet you get your independence from your aunt. Such an irritating combination of attitude.” 

“And why on heaven’s earth do you care professor? You may be a teacher but you still are fruit of evil so why do you care for a mere ever whose looks does not have the power to reach your beauty standards?” You shouted at her but  didn’t wait for her answer as you stomped your way out. 

~~~~~

“Gale, I am beautiful right?” You asked annoyed at the elemental spirit that is accompanying you right now. It breezes lightly and you take that as a sign of yes. “Hmph, I can get any prince whenever I want. Besides they are not a necessity, I actually like to think that they are just an accessory for princesses to fit in on fairy tale's society. Don’t you think?” You asked again and much more breeze with autumn leaves surrounds you and you just laughs. 

“Such an idiot you are.” A voice interrupts you making you jerk from your sit and you lost your balance. You are expecting to hit the hard ground but you didn’t. You thought Gale helped you but you felt an arms around your waists after a few seconds. ‘Gale doesn’t have arms.’ You thought so out of curiosity you open your eyes but that caught your guard off.

Two amethyst colored orbs are looking straight at you and scanning not just your eyes but your whole face. How beautiful her eyes are whether you deny it or not. Her make up that is highlighting her gorgeous face are going to be the death of you. How can you hate her when she’s this flawless physically? Wait, whether she is pretty outside her insides are not. You seems to get a hold on your body now so you pushed her abruptly and she let you. 

“Where did you came from? You are literally coming out of nowhere.” You said exasperatingly. 

“I’ve come to say my apologies.” You are shocked at her statement for The former dean of evil does not admit her wrong. You can;t believe it because please, her ego is higher than the castle your aunt Elsa built. 

“Why?” You asked out of speechlessness. She looked at her sides eyeing if someone can hear her.

“Perhaps what I have said is too much.” She said with her eyes everywhere but yours and a blank expression. You don’t know if she is genuine or not but it is enough for now. At least she tried to say sorry.

“A-apology accepted.” She looked at you with a little to no expression. 

“That’s it?” You nod at her and she release a sigh. Your eyes are still at her and she meet it.

“How come it’s easy?” Your eyebrow cocked at this woman. 

“What choice do I have other than to forgive you?” You asked her then you sit down at the bottom of the tree where you fell.

“Not to forgive me.” She said then points her cane into where you’re sitting. “That is full of dirt princess, what are you thinking sitting the-” She stopped whatever she was saying because you grab the end of the cane that is near you and pulled it with her. She ended up sitting beside you and after that you stare at the clouds above you. What a great weather it is.

“You know professor, it would be no good if I keep my grudge onto myself, I am now grateful that you at least say your regrets after what you’ve done even though it is clear that you are evil.” You say beside her relaxed and feeling the air around you. 

While you are enjoying your surroundings and her company, your professor seems to not like sitting on a dirt. She keeps patting at her back and when you twist your head to look at her, she looks uncomfortable.

“Well you should be thankful for I will never ever say sorry to anyone ever again, and oh my, I really hate dirt.” She whines and she stands up. You followed her and straighten up your back.

“Well I feel honored to be the only one to hear your apology professor.” You said in a mocking tone and you look up at her while smiling genuinely. Her posture is straight and her eyes are running from your head to your toe.

“And to answer your question earlier...” She said dragging every word but you look at her with confusion in your eyes.

“Why do I care?” You mouthed an ‘aahh’ at her and nod. So she continued. “That’s because you are such a precious princess. I can’t bare to know that you can stand up physically for yourself when...” She pause her sentence. It is evident that she is contemplating whether she should say her next words or not. Because those words will surely change everything between the two of you.

“When what?” You asked really anticipating on what is she going to say next. You gulped and unconsciously licked you lips to give them moisture. You don’t know why but you feel like whatever she’s going to say next will lighten your already good day.

She leaned in into you and you just stand there like a statue which is the source of her giggle. She puts her index finger under your chin and her thumb brushed your lips. Her gesture made a rampaging zoo like feeling on your stomach and redness is coating your entire face.

“When you should be protected by me. Whenever danger surrounds you, you are physically prepared and I hate that because I want you to need me. I want to be your one and only protector, not just some silly prince who can’t even invite you to the Ball after one simple threat. Like hello, in the future they will need to have the courage to save princesses like you and yet... ugh I really hate princes.” She said that causes your eyes to widen and you gasp at her reveal. 

“You threatened them because you like me? Poor man.” You put your hands on your waist and turn your back on her. You can’t believe that someone really tried to ask you out. Not that you lost hoped with it, you just doubted your appearance for a second.

“You don’t need them anyways.” Lady Lesso said and you felt an arms circle your waist and you felt her chin on your shoulders. She is still holding her cane in front of you both.

“You are right, I don’t need them but you didn’t have to do that. Who is he?” You asked and you feel a tickling sensation when her breath touches your neck after she shoves your hair.

“He? More like them! Whatever you are going to the ball without them and you will spend your night after the ball with me.” She said and you didn’t oppose on that idea for you loved it as well. 

----------

I’m really gay for Charlize Theron

Just tell me if you want more guys! My inbox are open for recommendation and requests!

[novasdarling]

Hello! Can I request something for yan Uvogin? I absolutely love how you write for him. I was thinking something like he gets too rough during sex (whether the sex itself was a punishment or just regular sex is up to you!) and he ends up hurting his darling? (For example he breaks a bone or ends up choking them out)

He would, he really would. Just break something of yours when he's angry or super into it and be like "oh shit... well anyway"

TW: Kidnapping Implied, Noncon, Broken Limbs, Blood Mentioned, Death Mentioned and Sorta Depicted, Crying, Yandere

Begging Won't Help

It was foolish to think you could have gotten away from him. That you actually had a shot at getting far enough that he wouldn’t have found you. Though, on the other end, you would also been an idiot to pass up on this chance, to just not run when you had a clear path. Had someone willing to offer. A kind citizen who just wanted to help, who pitied the poor battered and bruised you left alone in this abandoned building. It was their own kindness that landed them in Uvogin’s hands. They had prompted you up, holding you so you could walk, most of your energy going. Helping you get out faster than you could have on your own. Things had been going so well, how were you to know he would be back so soon? You could have sworn he only left a day ago. That should have given you more time, yet, here he was. Peering down at the both of you. The man holding you up, with his hand under your arm, by your chest and yours over his shoulder. You knew how it looked to him. It wouldn’t just be running away from him, no he would see it as also cheating. Getting help from another man, he would over react and see it as more. The look in his eye told you, you were right.

He was fast, throwing you to the side so he could focus on the man. Uvogin grabbed him, crushing his arm that was previously on you. Squeezing tighter and tighter until you heard that familiar crunch of bones breaking within seconds. The man screamed, but it was cut short when Uvogin threw him against the wall. You assumed he was dead when he went silent. Even if he wasn’t, he’d be dead shortly. Uvogin never let people live. In his eyes, they didn’t deserve to live. No one who couldn’t fight him adequately should get any mercy, but you and even that was subjected to appeal. 

The man was left there, blood pooling from his mouth and nose. Cuts littered his body adding to the puddle of blood he was now laying in. A scene you had seen from him before when he decided to let you come with him for work. Scenes worse than this, ones that still haunted you.

Uvogin’s attention was now on you. A burning fire behind them, fueled by anger. This was the worst you had ever screwed up, worse than any other attempts you made to get away. At least those times he took it as a game of cat and mouse. A hunt he greatly enjoyed. This time, it was different. You weren't alone, you weren’t out there waiting to be caught by him. You had someone helping you. It didn’t matter you didn’t know him, that he just so happened to find you here. All Uvogin saw was red. His hands were now on you, grabbing and dragging you out of the room. Back further into the building, back to the room he kept you in. Seemingly uncaring when your feet couldn’t keep up, letting you fall multiple times until he finally picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. Carrying on with his walk. All there was to do was fall limp in his arms as you watched the room where the man’s body was still laying leave your vision. There was nothing to do, nowhere to go, and no way to get out of his grip. Once Uvogin had his hands on you, there was no easy way to get out. All you could do was cry, beg for mercy, and ask for forgiveness. 

You were thrown on the bed, Uvogin not bothering to let you down gently. Clearly not caring about your safety or feelings. Forgetting you were still recovering from the last time he lost his temper. You knew how he could be, blinded by rage and a need to attack. There was no way you were getting out of this, his eyes were staring down at you. Holding an emotion that you were all too familiar with. The only choice was to submit and tell him how sorry you were. Before he could speak, yell at you for running away again, for seeking help from another, a man. You began to cry, telling him how sorry you were, that he was some random guy. He offered you help and you should have said no. Get your story out so his mind didn't have time to wander. Didn't have time to create a fake narrative in his head, but as he spoke. You realized you were too late. He was far too gone.

“You’re telling me some man just happened to stroll by? Just happened to offer you help?” 

As unbelievable as it was, it was true. You had no idea who that man had been. Or even how he got here. The building was falling apart, some old factory that had been abandoned for probably over a century. Buried deep in some forest, according to Uvogin it wasn’t on any map. It was on the outskirts of some town that had been long and forgotten. It made no sense why he was here, this logic would harm your excuses. 

“How fucking dumb do you think I am? What was he? Your past boyfriend? Huh, were you going to run off with him?” 

Uvogin was now on you, holding you down to the bed while he yelled in your face. There was no logic in what he was saying, you knew that. Even if you did know that man, how were you able to communicate? Logic that escaped him in his state. Another thing you'd have to pay for.

You continued to cry. Worrying about what he had planned. You never got off without punishments, when you were lucky it was just him making you beg. Pray for forgiveness, kiss his feet, anything to make you look like a pathetic little creature appealing to a god for mercy. But most of the time, you weren't so fortunate. He tended to favour a harsher way of teaching a lesson. One where it involved spreading your legs to him. As his eyes began to wander your body, it was obvious he was leaning towards his favoured method. 

“I think” One of his hands wandered down to your legs, caressing your thigh before pushing your legs apart. “I know a way to make me feel a bit better though.” 

Your legs were spread, allowing him to settle in between them. Making himself comfortable. His grip stayed on your thighs, making sure you didn’t attempt to close them or fight when he began to remove your clothes. The last bit of resistance you had was to shut your eyes. Block out the sight of him as he continued to remove any barriers between the two of you. Trying to ignore the feeling of his hands stroking your bare skin. After a while you could, you were able to pretend his touches were from a lover trying something new and not from the monster who took you. His hands were down stripping you, deciding to push your legs up, placing them over his shoulders. A position he favoured when he wanted you to feel everything, when he desired to get as deep as possible. You pictured him as your old celebrity crush, pretending he was the one you could feel against your entrance. That it was him naked between your legs, not Uvogin.

“Hey! Open your eyes.” His grip was getting firmer on your thighs. Both hands now squeezed them as he kept them in place. “Look at me.” 

Wavering your options, determining it was best to listen to him. To not dig yourself into a deeper hole. You looked at him, trying to ignore how he gazed at you. As if you were no more than something of his, his toy to do with however he pleased. You had no power against him, you both knew that. You couldn’t even close your eyes and escape that way from him now. He wouldn’t allow it. He needed you to look at him, watch as he punished you. 

“Were you thinking of him? Thinking of him saving you, of him fucking you?” 

He squeezed tighter and tighter on your thighs, making you squirm and thrash against him. It was getting worse, his grip was getting worse, and he wasn’t letting go. He had riled himself up with the idea of that man, of what he thought was true. Delusions were taking over, becoming true to him. Believing his own thoughts no matter how ludicrous they sounded. You couldn’t get through to him, Uvogin was glaring at you as he squeezed. Eyes not leaving yours. Ignoring how you cried, begging him to stop. It wasn't until he heard the sound of one of your thigh bones being crushed that he looked away. Letting his grip on your other leg loosen as he stared at the broken leg.  Ignoring your cries as he examined your leg. Seeing how bad it was. You cried for him to stop, to just let you be. To not touch you, but he wasn't listening. Uvogin slowly lowered your leg as he moved. Placing it straight as can be next to your other leg. As gentle as he was attempting to be, the pain was still agonizing. Worse than when he snapped your ankle or arm.

"Shit"

It wasn't what he had planned, sure he wanted to break something of yours, but he knew he was going away in a week and leaving you unable to move properly wasn't a good idea. You were barely recovered from when he sprained your ankle a month ago. All he wanted to do was fuck you over and over again. Possibly even show you the dead body again and gloat until you were in tears and trying to hide your face in his cheat. This wasn't what he wanted, your broken leg meant work for him. It meant he had to be more careful when he played with you. Something he hated and clearly wasn't good with. As Uvogin went off to get something to help set the wound, leaving you on the beg crying and caressing your leg. All he could think about was how annoying this was going to be.

[ijumpbridges]

Problematic

Reader being Problematic - (Scp 035, 076, Dr. Bright)

Scp - 035 - Without me by Eminem

035 took you hostage for a ‘show night sitcom’ he decide to make after he threaten the staff to make a massive keter breach containment.

Sadly, you were dragged there too, because 035 he didn’t want Bright there. The room was Kitchen theme in the background the same one Bright used before.

They also stole the idea from Bright having one.

Many people were conflicted with themselves whether to stop him or stop you from going to the night sitcom.

Scp 035 dragged you and a D-class. You were guarding the D-class until 035 found you and drag you. 035 started to go live with a camera and microphone that a D-class.

Scp 035 and the D-class actually got along, they talked to the camera and put a show. While you, on the other hand, with your hands in your pockets sand a dead stare at the camera, not moving and literally no blinking.

While 035 and the D-Class had a convo about the cafeteria food and excited to get the new muffins they brought. Another D-class came in with the muffins in a plate.

035 started to brag, he said he was going to be the first one to eat it from all the personal and Scps. But sadly, they made a mistake, they turned to you asking you if you were excited fro them to eat the muffin and you still no reaction.

Scp 035 even threaten you to say something or do anything, but nothing. So he curse and moved on the muffin plate.

“This is going to be perfect!” 035 said excited, he gave one step and too the muffin. Not even one second you shot his skull multiple times, enough that not only the host’s head was ruin the body couldn’t function.

You shot at every other D-class that was there. You move the mask as carefully as possible and left it on the floor and took the muffin, thankfully it wasn’t dirty and ate it in-front of him. You ate a piece of it and spit on the mask, who gave you a frown face.

You called for backup and personal. After a while you adjusted the camera and started dancing around. While 035 was still on the floor and the bodies still around.

Scp 035 was furious.

Not only you ruined his show you spit on him and ate the muffin he was suppose to eat.

Your video was viral around, you spit on 035 and dance around.

Scp 035 got interview and always demanded for you to come to his cell and how could you not used his powers against you.

She was told how you had another scp helping you out to capture her.

She got even crazier, and tried to breach containment cursing to find you.

She demanded others not shared the video because she felt embarrassed and humiliated.

Of course no one listen and to calm her nerves they told her must people were focus on you rather on her since they could only see you singing and dancing.

You would also try to purposely slowly walk pass his cell and start to force yourself to think about the incident and it would lose its mind trying to hypnotize you and frown.

Scp - 076 - No snitching by Lil Mabu

Someone has been literally harassing Cain

That was 076 job to do not someone else

He founded weird too that his soft ass was letting it happen, but didn’t care

Now there was also this guard who was walking with him everywhere and that’s when he knew it was you

You were the bully and he wasn’t wrong

You in-fact did bully Cain and enjoy too

You specially if you were extremely mad at him would make a remark on his dead brother

Able was sent out to another facility, this were you also were there

Able already knew about what you say about him and his brother

So when you were walking with a juice box he didn’t waste a chance.

“You” He said in anger, he came close to you and pull out a weapon, a sword. “You are the one who keeps making those stupid remarks about me and…” he got a quiet

“Who the fuck are you” you said and notice the tattoos and the sword coming out of nowhere.

You face him and he stood there you took out your gun and he took his sword to snatch it out of your hand. You put your hands up and he points his sword at you.

“You a fool if you decide to make a move” he said to you.

Not even thinking twice you ran off and he chance you, luckily for you. You disappeared on a dead end corner. He got extremely confuse and mad. He storm out looking for you, everywhere and he thought he had seen you, he had run after it and watch it disappeared.

This happens now everyday. The staff members don’t understand why he chase after you, but prevent him on going after you, knowing he will lose you on the way and curse himself to it, trying to find you.

He even dragged a personal with him to help him, of course not even with hoe intimidating he was he didn’t refuse but didn’t snitch of what was happening for you to disappear like that.

The personal saw what were you actually doing to hide from him and laugh, it went from small to literally crying in the floor. They avoiding looking to where you were, but it was hard.

Then something’s for your horror happen, the ceiling fell off and it expose where you were, you were hanging in a tube in the ceiling and and the ceiling felt on him making white as dust.

He looked up and looked at you, he jump really high to get you, and he did, but he bragged a tube and the whole thing collapsed. The other personal while crying on the floor call a guard to help out and recorded this incident.

Able had never been so humiliated

Not only you had you humiliated you dishonor his death

He was told not to attack you

You both were told to be 50ft away from each other

But sadly in the cafeteria you two saw each other, still social distancing and you went off on him

He chased you around and got into a dead end now he checks up on ceilings to see if he can see you

Your new hiding spots were the walls

Dr. Bright - The real slim shady by Eminem

Bright made you mad. Extremely mad.

He got you in trouble because he is stupid and cant take accountable of something he did and blame you.

You were now in charge of 590 and you knew that Bright knew you held a grudge against him.

Bright freak out when he realize on who was 590 pass down.

And you took revenge on that

He beg and email you.

One time he even show up at your containment asking to see him only to be kick out

He of course was mad and made another stupidity and blame on you.

Which this one actually got you in some good trouble and you would keep quiet. The worst part? The staff wouldn’t drop knowing it wasn’t true.

You email Bright and told him that he can now see 590 and you gave up.

He was suspicious and ask about it and you gave a convincing response.

The next day in the afternoon you entered 590 containment cell, he was drawing and you smoke a cigaret. Bright came in and looked at you at you through the window.

He wave and signal you to come in, you wave back and shake your head refusing. Bright thought something was up with the door and try to open it, but it would bother.

You took out your phone and music started playing. He looked confuse until he heard the lyrics of the song and started banging on the window.

What was happening was you pit really inappropriate songs, but on the other side and made it looked like there was music on 590 cell, and there was, but this was rather other friendly songs for him to listen rather than any inappropriate songs Bright was listening on the other side.

It caught 590 attentions and made a small reaction and looked at the speakers and then at the widow, at his brother signaling him to cover his ears, he did’t understand why so he kind of ignore it.

You came out of the cell after both songs were done and Bright rush inside 590 cells and stayed there for 30 minutes and came out fighting you about putting inappropriate songs to 590 and you didn’t care.

Bright was pretty mad and made a report about it.

He took the ‘recordings’ and send it

3hrs later it was drop and got the response that there was no inappropriate song

He checked the recordings and saw no songs that were inappropriate and thanks to that he also got call out on why was chasing after you and got a warning about it.

Bright was not happy, but rather stop trying to pick up a fight with you. He knew now he was going to lose.

I swear im normal when im not consuming heroin on the side walk trust me

WHO SAID THAT

WHO SAID THAT?!?!!

[whatever-fanfics]

First of many

~~~

Ikemen sengoku x reader

Ranmaru Mori x reader

Part of @aquagirl1978 's "a series of first's" challenge

Prompt: First date (planned date)

In which you and Ranmaru go on your first date, test your boundaries, and find comfort within one another.

~~~

The bustling crowds of Azuchi market flooded their senses yet it did nothing to soothe your nerves as you walked close to Ranmaru occasionally bumping into him muttering the occasional 'sorry'.

Your first date.

You awkwardly cleared your throat, oblivious to the adoring look he gave you accompanied by a slight blush covering his cheeks. You really are too cute.

"Do you want to try the new tea house" he asked bright smile accompanied by a slight blush staining his cheeks, too excited to be nervous. "Is there anything special, you wanna get" he turned his head to you, his heart warming as you thought about it "yeah, I want to try their new mochi and they have a new tea, too. Oh! Maybe we should bring some back for the others too!" You pondered out loud, only stopping when you saw the pout on his face. When you asked him about it he answered,

"Mmm" he grumbled "I don't want you thinking of other guys when you're with me" his voice was quieter than before. You smiled and reassured him as you took his hand and led him to the tea house.

Not that far behind you two followed a worrying mother, several older brothers, and one concerned father.

Hideyoshi's eyes narrowed as he saw the couples interlinked hands "What does he think he's doing", he whispered with the fury of an angered mother. "Holding hands like that" he grumbled, "hush monkey" Hideyoshi gasped and bounced back as he turned to see his lord. "MY LORD!!!" only quieting down as he got several 'shhh's' in response. Turning he saw the rest of the Oda warlords along with Kennyo?!?

"What are you-" "what do you think we're doing here, no one's professional enough to leave them alone" Ieyasu interrupted with a huff. "No one could focus during the meeting, so Lord Ieyasu suggested we follow them to see if they were alright" Mitsunari filled the rest in. "I said that sarcastically you oaf" Ieyasu quickly followed up. "That all follows, but why are you..." he trailed off as all heads turned to look at the monk. Wanting to interact with any of them as little as possible he curtly replied "I am allowed to take a convenient stroll, am I not?" He asked rhetorically, not taking his eyes of the pair for a second.

Neither believed each other, not wasting any time as they saw the new couple get further and further away. The warlords and the monk followed as discreetly as possible, ignoring the odd looks they got from the townspeople.

A bead of sweat comedically dropped down your head as you tried not to notice the group of people huddled in the bushes. Turning away from them hoping they don't notice you, noticing them. You sat in silence until Ranmaru came back. They didn't have to see your face to know how happy you looked. While you and Ranmaru exchanged pleasantries.

"Why is he sitting so. close. to her?!?!" Hideyoshi fumed at this Kennyo turned to him with the strength of a thousand angry fathers. "What's wrong with him sitting close to her?" What's wrong with my son?!?! Kennyo silently raged. "What if he-" "hush, you stupid monkey" Nobunaga quietly eradicated the tension. "Where did Lord Masamune go?" At this the others turn to see the one eyed dragon nowhere to be found.

Upon spotting the server walking up to you and Ranmaru, Mituhide snickered 'this should be good'.

"Yeah and then he-" you both quickly turned to the shadow on top of you. Multiple arms grab Hideyoshi as he almost blows their cover trying to walk over to them fuming and red with anger.

Masamune ignored the look of shock he got from both parties and introduced a new dish.

The others look don in confusion and shock, wondering how he had time to make something in such. short amount of time.

"I am so sorry" you leaned over and whispered to Ranmaru. He smiled "no, not at all" waving his hands in assurance.

"MASAMUNE!!!" Hideyoshi struggled against the many arms holding him back.

You could only watch in silent worry as Masamune continuously pulled out treat after treat piling up on the small bench you and your date sat on.

Turning your head you looked at the rest of the warlords, plus Kennyo. While it warmed your hear to see him care for Ranmaru for deeply, it only spurned on your rising nerves to have your boyfriends father chaperone your first date. Try as you might you locked eyes with Nobunaga who was watching in amusement while holding back Hideyoshi.

He saw you glare at him and knew that you had long since known of their presence. Sighing to himself, he pulled Hideyoshi back and settled him down with a tug to his shoulder knowing their disguise had been realized.

When the others saw their lord stand tall they knew it was fruitless to hide any longer. He along with the others, Kennyo included, slowly walked their way over to your spot.

While fending off Masamune's onslaught of food, Ranmaru took a glance at you.

'Gosh, you look so cute pouting like that' he swooned inwardly.

The other patrons could only watch in shock and confusion as their beloved warlords got scolded by their princess. Some had soft smiles on their faces sensing the level of care the group had for one another amongst the chaos. The patrons watch as they believe they'll remember this event for years to come.

~~~~~

[nerdyenby]

Life Series winners as primal sources from the Dragon Prince

I made a post about this back when Limited Life finished but I’m revisiting the concept because I love it (this is all inspired by the wiki)

This is a touch long so buckle up :)

For this unfamiliar with TDP, it’s a Netflix show by a lot of the same people as Avatar the Last Airbender, it’s very neat and you should check it out. There are seven sources of magic in this universe: the six primal sources (sun, moon, stars, sky, earth, and ocean) and dark magic (which harvests and uses energy from magical creatures)

Grian as The Sun

Sun magic is known for its dual nature: light and growth vs fire and destruction. Either warm enough to comfort or hot enough to burn, the Sun and those who practice it’s magic are associated with truth, fury, intensity, charisma, and leadership. The solar arcanum has to do with strong positive energy, but also manifests in anger, fear and grief. Despite its focus on hope and healing, the Sun is also highly destructive and requires careful control of one’s emotions and impulses.

Grian is a bright figure, often at the center of the life series due to his contagious energy and unpredictability. It is due to his ability and desire to bring people together that destruction follows him. He seeks to entertain — to bring joy — but tends to do so in a way that is either careless or impulsive and often results in pain or loss. His warmth draws people in just in time for his lack of control to burn them. This is why — despite being seen as a friend and even a leader to other players — Grian always ends up alone.

Scott as The Stars

The Stars are the rarest and most powerful source of magic. Very little is known about it, but the Stars and those who practice it’s magic are associated with wisdom, destiny, dedication, reality, vision, and eternity. The most mysterious of sources, Star magic is said to be vast and timeless. Practitioners of the Stars’ arcanum have said it to be brighter and more beautiful than anything else in the universe, but unconcerned with the mortal world and even cruel. The Stars have power over time and space, unfathomable in their reach and strength.

Scott is frequently hailed as the biggest threat in any given season. His strategies evade substantial analysis, but his biggest trademark is maintaining loose but amicable connections with everyone around him. No one wants to get on his bad side, not only because of his strength, but because of his likability. Intelligent and charming, Scott manages to get through majority of each game without any real enemies, keeping his distance and avoiding being seen as a threat. Scott is bright, both in intelligence and in atmosphere. He is everywhere and nowhere, constant yet unnoticed. He’s above the petty fighting of the other players, but whenever he enters the fray he is the most feared unknown on the field.

Pearl as The Moon

Those connected to the Moon primal are private and secretive creatures. It is associated with manipulation, duality, depth, love, and death. The Moon arcanum largely focuses on the relationship between appearance and reality, understanding that appearance is a part of reality and that we can only ever perceived the appearance of reality. Truth and illusions are central concepts in the practice of lunar magic, and those who practice it are often misunderstood, dismissed as mad, or isolated. The Moon has a penchant for trickery, often playing with the line between truth and lies or life and death.

Pearl has always been a person who loves very deeply, but frequently finds herself alone. While she very much values a certain level of privacy, she also craves companionship. Pearl is extremely intuitive and pays attention to her surroundings, not hesitating to take new angles or look at something or someone from a new perspective. But in her intelligence comes something difficult to convey, her fluidity can cause her to be perceived as fickle. She is often in smaller groups or even alone, as people who don’t understand her may be inclined to distrust her. Pearl is often seen as wild or unpredictable due to a combination of her more withdrawn nature and her straddling the line of truth and lies, of life and death. Her mischievousness, intelligence, and independence can intimidate others, but Pearl is a steadfast and loyal ally, misunderstood as she often is.

Martyn as The Ocean

The Ocean is dynamic and forceful. It is associated with transformation, adaptability, navigation, depth, and awareness. Those who practice the Ocean primal tend to form strong connections to others, but they also have hidden depths. Gentle on the surface with great strength beneath, they may be stronger than even they know. The Ocean arcanum is about letting go of your need for control and finding the constant amidst constant change.

Martyn had been a classic team player, often making a place for himself right beside a force to be reckoned with. He was loyal, ready and willing to live, fight, and die for another. But he is also fluid, flexible in his role. Martyn is content staying on the sidelines when that is what serves him best, but he also has a fighting spirit that historically gets overlooked. He is powerful. He forms strong relationships, but has also learned when to stay and when to let go. He has paid attention, learning the game, and now it is his time to strike. His whole story is about the battle for freedom, but it is also about finding how to live within that space. He still pushes at the walls of his cage, unrelenting in his fight to find a way out, but he simultaneously refuses to let his circumstances dictate his story.

Scar as The Earth

The Earth arcanum emphasizes resilience, patience, history, and stubbornness. Those connected to the Earth primal care deeply about the world around them and it’s story. They are patient and strong, focusing on growth and fortitude. Those who practice the Earth primal value balance and harmony, seeking interdependent and mutually beneficial relationships with everyone and everything around them.

Scar’s story is one of growth. From the first person to ever die in this series to the only winner to make it out alive, Scar’s victory is a testament to his dedication and diligence. He has worked steadily to improve with no basis of comparison but himself, patient and steadfast, uncaring if anyone takes notice. He’s stubborn, even when no one believes in his abilities — including himself — he doesn’t give up, putting in his all regardless. He doesn’t expect success, but he achieves it regardless. Scar has never been out to rewrite history, but he carves a brand new story in stone all on his own.

[thesixthplaneteer]

OC-tober day 2 - New OC

My newest character I'd call an OC is Ralph, the love interest and coterie-mate to my wife's character Khloe in the VTM game I'm STing for, The Poisoned Peach. Ralph is a spiced up self insert and has been a blast to play.

A factoid about him is his full name is Randolph Gaylord King IV. He's a thin blood but has the clan curse of his Nosferatu sire. My goal when playing him is to be the coolest and dorkiest guy in the room. I wanted to write something focused on just the boy but also wouldn't be any spoilers for my wife, so here is his embrace! I hope you enjoy!

The warm summer night air blew hard, causing him to stumble as he drunkenly tried to navigate a city he’d never been to before. Ralph took a deep breath and tried to focus on his phone which had directions to his hotel on it, but his head was swimming and his vision blurred. “Fuckin’ Marta ass,” He half slurred and grumbled out loud. “Last train at midnight ass.” He switched to his Instagram to check how posts from earlier in the night were doing. 

There were several posts of him posing with other Instagram celebrities, nearly all he could not remember the names of. The more popular people he’d posed with got his own posts better hits, as he thought they would. Annoyingly, the pic he took of someone taking his prosthetic foot wasn’t doing well. It was an embarrassing situation he’d hoped to monetize but obviously it wasn’t as interesting as the barely concealed female presenting nipples in his other pictures. 

He soon looked up and realized he had no idea where he was. “Fuuuuuuck.” He let out in frustration as he quickly looked back to his phone, pulling up the directions again... just to see that he’d overshot his hotel by over a mile somehow. “Fuck two electric boogaloo. Fuck it, I’ll Uber-loo.” Grumbling in resignation, he tried to find the app.

He opened his eyes after what felt like a long blink. His head throbbed and it felt like there was a knife twisting in his stomach. He choked on the smell of shit and piss that saturated the air. He blinked to clear his vision but the room was dark. His blood ran cold as the years of military training started to kick in. He kept silent and slowly felt around to get an idea of where he might be. His prosthetic was gone, there was a slimy substance on most surfaces, he could hear rats squeak and scurry. He prayed he was wrong, but he put the clues together and figured he was in the sewer. 

Pulling himself up against the wall, he gripped at his stomach as the twisting pain persisted. Like an insane hunger he’d never experienced before. “The fuck!?” He mumbled as he felt a sharp stab suddenly in his belly, the source directly from his own fingers. He rubbed at their tips, and felt that his nails had become extended and pointed. “What the fuck!?” His heart started to pound in his chest, and he struggled to hold back panic. 

He didn’t have much more time to his own thoughts, as suddenly a light flashed on. It wasn’t a particularly bright bulb, but in the pitch black of the room, it may as well have been the sun. He blinked rapidly to combat the trauma to his eyes and clear his vision. He couldn’t see anyone, but his fear of being in the sewer was confirmed. 

“Who’s there?” He choked out. There appeared to be no one, but someone had to have turned the light on.

“Oh poor Randolph. So scared when not surrounded by your bimbos and himbos.” A voice like grinding stones said from seemingly nowhere. 

Ralph spun and looked around. He saw no one, even the rats were silent now. 

“What did you do to me!?” Ralph yelled out, feeling a white hot anger rise within him. 

“I made you one of us! One of the normies. I ripped you down from your pristine pedestal and humbled you. Now you’ll know the same pain me and my brethren have felt all our lives!”

Ralph turned to now see a creature standing where there was nothing before. Dark, beady eyes peered out from beneath a hood. Its skin was mottled gray, its teeth crooked and jagged. Its wicked smile was so wide it seemed like his lips would split. It held a mirror in its hand and raised it above its own head to meet Ralph’s gaze. 

A cold numbness went through Ralph's body as he saw what he knew was him, but refused to believe it. His eyes were black and amber, his nose upturned and bat-like. His hair was just wisps of what was. His skin was splotchy. His nails were black and grown out like claws. 

The creature beyond his own reflection was smiling and speaking. Making grand hand gestures. But all Ralph could hear was the beating of his own heart in his ears. All he could feel was the desire to drain the creature dry. The thought of opening its throat and drinking from it like a fountain. Ralph’s eyes darted down to the floor as the creature spoke to him. He keyed in on a broken brick in the path between him and it. When the creature turned and its eyes were not on him, he made his move.

“You’re stricken, so stupid, you can’t even speak-” 

The final words he heard as his body lurched forward. He leapt and pushed off the ground with his hands like a feral beast. The creature’s eyes and his own met before the first blow was struck. All of that confidence was gone. Fear was on its face, soon followed by brick. The first strike was hard and threw the creature off balance, the mirror it held falling and breaking on the concrete. It sputtered out something but Ralph was quick to keep pressing the advantage, slamming the brick into its face again, bringing it to the ground. It was like hitting a sand bag. The contact was solid but it was obviously not doing the amount of damage he expected. Still, he was unrelenting. He was on top of the creature before it could get up. It tried to throw him off, and was almost successful, the scrawny frame of the creature hid its strength well. Whether through pure rage or muscle, Ralph stayed on top and beat the creature until the brick crumbled to dust. 

“Get him off me!” The creature cried out in panic. 

Ralph didn’t take the time to register the cry for help. He started to go in with fists where the brick failed. But his arm was stopped, an iron grip on his wrist catching him mid-swing. He tried to spin and punch the sudden second attacker, but they grabbed his other hand as well. This one was bigger and more monstrous than the other. A cleft lip revealed teeth befitting a cryptid rotting within its mouth. Its eyes were a bright red that almost shined. There was no nose on its face, not even nostrils. Its ears were elongated and several inches of lobe hung down from them. 

The fight left Ralph as he realized he wasn’t walking away from this. He went limp in the new creature’s grasp. Somehow, it was able to speak clearly through the cleft lips and monstrous teeth.

“The kid is a shit and what he did wasn’t right. But I can’t let you kill him. That’s for someone else to decide.” His voice was soothing and warm. “Name’s Jorge.” 

[behindthesemasks]

16

It's time to get some answers...

Mel and Klaus stood arguing about her safety while they waited for Ambrose and Nic to make an entrance.  He wanted her back in the suite at the hotel, she wanted to get to the hospital or help at the dig site.  Melania was tired of being treated like a china doll by everyone around her.  While he understood that, he couldn’t get her to understand what that drive had just felt like to him; knowing that if the asshole in the passenger seat of that SUV had been a better shot, she could have been hurt or killed.  It had felt like being on that plane when the bullet had gone through Grant and hit her during the extraction in Peru.  

Finally, tired of arguing with him and getting nowhere, she had agreed to go back to the hotel, but not for the reasons he would have wanted.  She didn’t tell him, but she planned on getting every drop of information from Andreas she could.  His final disposition she’d leave to Klaus and Eric, but she was going to make that man hurt…a lot.  Being shot at while going on archaeological expeditions was something she was seriously becoming tired of.  Ever since she’d landed in Peru last year, she felt like she’d had a gun pointed at her every damn day.  Whether it was because they were keeping her safe, or because they were considering taking her out…it mattered little to her at this point. 

Klaus was relieved that she agreed to go back, even if he didn’t trust that his thoughts and feelings on the matter had any bearing on her decision.  He could tell there was something more going on behind those crystal blue eyes of hers, but if she was out of the line of fire, he could at least focus on taking out the threat to her and their friends.  When it was all said and done, he knew there would be a reckoning to be had over this, and the incident in the hallway at the hotel.  That didn’t bother him; the possibility of her being hurt bothered him.  He could take her anger.  Seeing her in a coma in a bed again, that he wasn’t sure he could take.  Twice in less than six months was too much for him.

When they showed up in the Quonset hut, looking frustrated and ready to commit great violence, Nic and Ambrose agreed with Klaus about Mel going back to the hotel.  They hadn’t found anything of use in the SUV.  Whoever was funding this was good, very good.  Ambrose already had calls out to people who technically didn’t exist.  The word was being spread that there was a price, a high one, on the head of whoever thought to try and take out the heir to the Meyers fortune.  There was to be no expense spared in finding out who did it.  Ambrose was calling in favors in spades, and he knew that in the end he would get what he wanted.

Tossing his keys to Case, Ambrose told him to get her back to the hotel.  After seeing the man’s driving, Ambrose was sure that he could keep her safe and in one piece if there was another incident.  He considered sending Gabe back with them as well, but decided to keep him with the team for the moment.  With Cam and Erik back at the hotel in addition to Case, that should be enough. With the warning going across the wires, anyone attempting to harm his granddaughter did truly have a death wish that every man in that building would gladly grant.  From the look on Klaus’s face and the missing rear window of the SUV they had been in, he had no doubt that retribution was going to be swift and brutal from him.

Following Case and Mel out to the SUV that was parked alongside the one that they had arrived in, Klaus hated that she was going back without him but also wanted to go hunting for those responsible for what just happened and wanted her safe.  He was pissed, beyond pissed.   Cupping her face in his hands, he gave her a look that spoke volumes about the warring emotions that were inside him.  Her hands rested on his hips before she went to her toes to kiss him.  

“Go get ‘em killer.  I’ll be fine.”  Her voice was low and sexy, her lips brushing over his. There was something more in her eyes though, something feral and lethal.  Damn if it didn’t turn him on.   She was going to be the death of him someday, but damn he’d die a happy man.

He looked over to Case as she got in the vehicle and nodded.  Shutting her door, he headed back into the building and the waiting team.  His strides were long and purposeful; it was clear from his gate that this was a man on a mission.  He was going to find out who put her in danger, and eliminate them with great malice.  Maybe he’d even let the others help.

“Dez, get to the hospital.  That SUV had run flat tires.  They had expected to take fire, they were on a mission.  Alexander and Sasha aren’t safe and Cade isn’t enough backup in this situation.  I don’t want Mel leaving that hotel and the only way to keep her there is to get Alexander back there.  As soon as it’s dark, get him back to the hotel and keep his ass there.”  Nic was talking when Klaus walked back in.  He nodded over to him as he joined the others.  

“Klaus, Gabe, Donovan…you’re with us.  Grandfather just got intel.  We’ve got a visit to make to a mansion just outside of town that’s being rented by a mysterious Australian.  Seems there have been some rumors of the resident being a relics dealer.  Seeing as how we have one archaeologist down and another as a target, I think we’ve found who we’re looking for.”  Nic smirked as he looked at his men.  Damn he had a good team; he trusted every damn one of them.  

Both groups headed out to the two remaining SUV’s.  Ambrose had gotten the keys from Case for the one that was missing the back window.  Klaus took up position in the back of it as the other males got in the front.  Then they followed Case and Dez back to the main road towards town.  Just outside of the city, they turned off on another road, heading in the general direction of the manor.   They weren’t going to just roll up to the front door, they might have before someone tried to take out four of them.  Too late for being polite now.

When they were within a quarter mile, and on a road that didn’t lead directly to the house, Ambrose pulled the SUV off of the road onto a turn in that was rather overgrown.  Pulling past the tree line so that the rear of the vehicle was at least partly hidden, everyone slipped out as quietly as they could.  Doors were left slightly ajar and the tailgate was left up. Silence was the name of the game now.  The sun was up and that meant that they would stay low and in the trees as much as possible.  

That quarter mile seemed to take forever to cross.  If whoever was in the house was responsible for the attack on Sasha, and the price on Alexander, they didn’t want to give them warning that hell was about to come down on them.  They were as silent as possible, making sure to stay undetected and hidden the whole time.  Once they reached the tree line, they were no more than 50 yards from the main house.  There were no guards that could be seen, but there were people inside.  While the windows did reflect some of the surroundings, shadows moving inside could be seen.  

Each of the men took up observation positions to try and determine how many were inside and their locations.  They would wait till the cover of darkness to move in any closer.  There could be no more than two or three hours of daylight remaining.  Klaus and Donovan had shotguns, Ambrose and Nic were brandishing pistols, and Gabe had an AR.  They were ready for whatever lay inside that house.

As dusk was beginning to set, Klaus’s phone buzzed.  Pulling it out, he looked down at the number and sighed as he swiped to answer it. “Yeah?” His eyes closed tightly, then he responded curtly, “not now,” before hanging up.  Turning his phone off, he stored it in one of the pockets on his pants before returning his attention to the house.  

No one asked who it was or what they had wanted.  For him to answer it right now meant it was Mel or one of the other men on the team.  His response told them this wasn’t a good time to start a conversation on it either.  But they all did pull out their phones and turn them off.  Last thing they needed was a distraction when they were raiding the house.  

Soon darkness had fallen.  The men emerged from the tree line and headed towards the house.  Hand signals guided the entry to the house, 3 through the back and two through the front.  As Klaus, Donovan, and Nic headed around back, they were careful to avoid being seen through the large windows that each room on the bottom floor seemed to have.  While they had seen people inside the house earlier, no one was seen in any of the rooms now.  They could only hope that this meant that they hadn’t been spotted.

At the back door they paused and listened.  Seconds ticked by slowly till they heard the distinctive whistle that meant it was time for entry.  Klaus and Donovan brought boots to door at the same time to break the lock and swing it open.  Klaus took point with Nic bringing up the rear.

There were no sounds on the first floor when the teams made entry, but the sounds of the scraping of chairs could be heard upstairs.  Neither group delayed in heading up, where they were met with two armed bodyguards that were quickly dispatched.   The other men in the room looked surprised at first, and then fearful when Ambrose’s tall frame rounded the corner to enter the room they were in.

“So gentlemen, you’ve decided it was a wise thing to take out a hit on members of an expedition team on a archaeological dig that I’m financing.  You’d better have a damn good reason that you just put my granddaughter in jeopardy because I don’t take kindly to her being shot at.”

This is where the stammering started, first from one then another of the men.  All seemed to be claiming that they had no idea that Ambrose was financing the dig nor that Mel was one of the archaeologists on site.  If it hadn’t been abundantly clear they had found out who was behind the attack on Sasha and the hit on Alexander, Klaus might have found their stammering amusing.  As things were, he found it irritating and annoying.

“Boys, restrain our hosts.  I think they’ve forgotten what it means to do their homework before starting a job.  A refresher on exactly what happens to anyone who crosses me might be in order as well.”  Ambrose smirked as the color began to drain from the faces of the men who were facing him.  

Four hours later the men emerged from the house.  A little blood splatter here and there, but only the two bodyguards had ended up dead.  Now they needed to get back to the SUV and to the hotel.  Hopefully all the rest of the team would now be there with information from Andreas.

As they got to the SUV, everyone started pulling out phones and turning them on.  Most likely there would be texts or calls with updates to at least Ambrose and Nic.  Klaus knew he needed to return the call he’d gotten to, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that with everyone in the vehicle able to hear him.

“Shit!  How the fuck do I have over 100 missed calls.”  Nic growled as he started to flip through his call log.

“I’ve got 50,” Klaus replied, not really wanting to look through his log.

“What, did I get the jackpot with only 3?”  Gabe joked as he tried to figure out who was calling him from the 228 area code.

“FUCK!”  All heads turned to look at Ambrose.  In the dim light of his cell phone, pure anger showed on his face.  He hit a number on his phone and the soft sound of ringing could be heard in the stillness as no one else moved.  “What is so god damned important?”  His voice left no room for misunderstanding that he was pissed.  “What do you mean she’s missing?” 

Klaus’s heart dropped through the floor and Gabe almost dropped his phone.

Banner by @cafekitsune

[twistedastrology]

Hello there!

Can you talk more about aries mercury? so...not the fool card? Even though they don't "think things through" before speaking? It seems to me aries in mercury is either over-emotional, too forward, too logical, too passionate and so many contradictory things all at once. I would REALLY love to hear what you think about that. Please.

Btw, Capricorn Mercury seems to be the most 'useful' mercury in terms of external/social benefits, in the sense that they have a constant filter that makes them gain respect by others easily. I don't necessarily like their minds to be honest, and they're generally not interested in lots of topics but I have to recognise how handy it could come to people who don't get to wish to discuss/delve deeper in various topics.

I have multiple cap mercuries in my life btw including friends, colleagues and my dear mother with whom--even though she's a Gemini Moon--barely manages to have hobbies of her own or participate in games.

I feel like cap mercury is perfect on the outside, but overly influenced by society's standards, rules and appearance on the inside bc of that filter. Like they don't really "think for themselves"? They're much more focused on appearances than on the content of a text, speech and mercury matters.

Sorry for the ramble. Also, discovered ur blog today and I love the authenticity.

A;

love love love love LOOOOOVE this ask thank u so so much omg- mercury stuff is one of my absolute favorite things to yap abt in astrology and i consider it kinda my specialty bc im mercury dominant myself so 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

let's start with aries mercury- in my experience, people with aries mercury aren't necessarily impulsive when it comes to their thoughts or how they talk, unless the rest of the chart says otherwise (mercury square mars especially could do this imo)

my mom has her mercury in 25° aries (so an aries degree) and she's like 99% fire with a cap rising that doesn't do a whole lot bc it's SUUUUUPER intercepted by aquarius- Like literally her whole 1st house is engulfed by aquarius but her asc line is in cap so 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

she's the perfect example of an aries mercury in my opinion- she literally Cannot sit still for longer than like. an hour at best. even my gemini finds it slightly annoying but i just follow her around whenever we're talking 😭😭😭

she also has her sun and venus both in aries (venus conjunct mercury) so she's very aries dominant, and she's not very confrontational or impulsive at all- she's not really quick to anger either like stereotypical aries is, but she is pretty easily irritated id say 😵‍💫

in terms of mercury specifically, you can just See the aries influence in like everything she does- her organization isn't the neatest, but she has to have everything put away otherwise she'll lose her mind and she literally can't focus until the kitchen is clean or something-

her mercury goes a MILE a minute just like mine does so in talking to her, we can go from something very normal to the most out of nowhere conversation you could ever imagine- And we have mercury sextile mercury together (albeit a wide orb bc my mercury is 1° gemini 😵‍💫) so somehow we understand the other's chaos perfectly and actually manage to reel the other in without actually doing anything-

shockingly, where my gemini will get incredibly confused and overwhelmed, her aries will come in clutch- a good example of this is a while ago we were playing fallout 76 and if u dont know, in that game u have a stash box with limited storage capacity and it's inevitable that it'll fill up eventually so u have to get rid of a whole bunch of stuff to bring it back down-

i literally got so overwhelmed by that to the point of tears and my dad tried to help (his mercury is in taurus btw) and he literally couldn't bc i refused to open up to him tbh- so he went and got my mom and just her Being in the same Room with me got my mercury to sort its shit out- like she saw everything so clearly and directly, very aries, whereas i was overwhelmed by all the details, very gemini.

so i think aries mercury is actually a Really good placement especially if you have strong aspects to back it up- it can make you see complicated things very simply and clearly OR the opposite sometimes 😵‍💫 it Can make you overlook details and not understand something when it isn't perfectly direct- and i also notice that, at least with my mom, her aries mercury makes her a Little less good with people- only because a lot of people aren't as clear and concise as she would like them to be, and that's when i have to help her figure out what they mean 😭

i think aries mercuries do actually think things through before they speak, they just think so fast that it Seems like they don't- similar to gemini mercuries actually 😵‍💫

i also dont think they're overly emotional or hot-headed as per the aries stereotypes- i think they're actually a lot more calculated than we give them credit for especially since mars is the god of war, and to win a war you need strategy (personally i think aries rules the sun, but mars makes sense here so 😮‍💨)

ANYWYA in terms of CAPRICORN!!!!!

i have observed quite a few capricorn mercuries so i am extremely glad u brought them up-

i think what u said abt capricorn mercuries being the most useful in terms of social benefits is actually kinda real- i do notice that Most capricorn mercuries are similar to libra mercuries in that they are generally very respectful of the things they talk about, at least if they actually respect them 😵‍💫

i have 3 different capricorn mercuries that im using as examples in my head right now- jonathan davis, awsten knight and bill wurtz- if you've seen any of them in interviews, you'll notice they're all very different with the way they talk but i think jonathan davis and awsten knight are the most similar in the respect thing-

those two are both so charismatic and polite in my opinion- and bill wurtz is too but he's a lot more like what you would think an aries mercury would be like- he's very high-strung, at least in the interview i saw, and has a lot of nervous energy and talks So Fast and yet it still seems like his mouth cant keep up with his brain-

awsten is pretty similar, he's got adhd (same 😵‍💫) and talks pretty fast but his pace seems a little closer to a gemini mercury. it's slightly slower most of the time but the speed at which he talks and thinks seems to vary based on what he's talking about.

jonathan is very cap coded to me with the way he talks, and im silly for him rn so i have done extensive research 💔💔💔 But he seems very methodical, yet playful with how he talks and thinks- methodical but you can tell his brain is fully capable of that uranus level speed at the same time 😭😭😭

i think overall cap mercuries absolutely depend on the rest of the chart bc if u saw my beef with earth signs post (or newsletter!!), u'll have seen where i said earth placements are outlines waiting to be colored in by the rest of the chart-

so if someone has too many earth placements or like- a taurus-influenced cap mercury, i can Absolutely see how they could be someone who doesn't seem to think for themselves, or even thinks too Much about themselves-

i also think the smaller range of interests could actually make sense for a cap mercury because saturn is very much about mastery, so the mercury, unless influenced by another element that says otherwise, would hyperfixate on one thing until it masters it instead of a gemini or aries mercury which is more jack of all trades.

i hope this made sense and again thank u soooooo so much for this ask i really enjoyed this topic and if u have any other questions please feel free to send me them!!!!! i love when ppl send me questions it makes me rly happy 😭😭😭😭

[blackkatmagic]

I am foaming in the mouth with the Fox/Antilles snippet, you're making me hyper at 3 am and honestly, I don't mind so keep it up.

Fox and Mace are literally giving each other knowing looks, so ig its safe to say that Jon definitely won't be seeing Dark Woman anytime soon in his time as the Coruscant Guards Jedi 👀

:D

“Oh,” Thorn says, and there's something startled about it. When Jon slants him a glance, though, he just smiles, thumps back against the lift wall beside Jon with his helmet swinging from his fingertips. “Were you on the front before this, sir? Who’d you serve with?”

Guilt prickles, something close to shame, and Jon looks away. “I was in the Outer Rim. There were people who needed help,” he says. “I didn’t plan to come back.”

There's a pause, and then Thorn makes a soft sound. His smile comes back crooked, and he tips his head back against the wall. “Guess it’s hard to remember that the universe doesn’t just stop because of the war,” he says. “We’re sunk right down in the middle of it, and we always knew it was coming.”

Not anger. Jon breathes out, slow, careful, and tries to shut out the wary trepidation that threads through his veins. “I’ll help how I can,” he offers quietly, and—it’s not enough, likely, but it’s something, hopefully.

“We’re glad to have you,” Fox says, brusque. His attention is on his comm, and he’s frowning as he types out a message. “The Guard’s run ragged trying to plug up all the holes where threats can get through. A Jedi will be able to tell us where to focus.”

That, at least, Jon should be good at. He nods with some relief, and as the doors open with a gust of metallic air, he ducks his head, draws his hood forward as he steps out of the lift.

A hand on his back again makes him flinch, even though he likely should have been expecting it, but Fox doesn’t move it, doesn’t jerk away from his skittishness. He just pauses, letting Jon gather himself, and then steers him lightly towards the waiting speeder.

“Come on,” he says, low, and something about it makes Jon's skin prickle. It’s…not unpleasant. “Have to get our Jedi settled before anything else. Then you can meet the boys.”

Thorn hauls himself into the driver’s seat, leans over to open the passenger door. Fox nudges Jon in ahead of him, and—it’s a small speeder. Jon is pressed right between the two of them, shoulder to shoulder, and he almost wants to twitch away, slide out of the press, but there's nowhere to go. And—

Fox’s fingers curl around his wrist, light. “It will be fine,” he says, gruff. “The Guard’s different. You’ll fit with us.”

Jon wants to swallow, but his throat is dry. The press of Fox’s armor right up against him is…not intimidating. Like those words were permission to relax, a clear order in the way of Dark Woman’s command to find the Sith. He nods, reaching up to tug his hood forward a little more, and Fox squeezes his wrist as Thorn lifts off, and then just—doesn’t withdraw his hand.

No one has ever touched Jon casually, deliberately like this. Not in any moment he can remember, and it’s entirely overwhelming.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

3. "Try not to shit yourself Gary. It's just an open door."

GARY, THE CRYPTOFASCIST - "What could it be about?" He frets to himself, not taking your advice. "I probably talked too loud. In the Whirling. About some theories I had. Whatever it is, I'm done with it."

"I won't do it again." He looks around nervously. "If there's anything I can do to assist you -- or the Union -- just ask, okay? I'll try to help if I can."

+5 XP

HALF LIGHT [Easy: Success] - This scared him proper. He's positively *melting* from fear. Has to prop himself up with a lot of anger to keep it together.

KIM KITSURAGI - "The weather vane has turned," the lieutenant remarks with a smirk. "He cannot be un-turned."

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] - He clearly liked his squirming. He may even have changed his mind about the whole door-opening operation.

+1 Reputation

4. "Thank you for your cooperation." [Leave.]

We're going to look for Morell's traps while we keep exploring the coastal area.

🎵 Disco Elysium

No boat in the boat house today.

Snow's really starting to pick up.

OVERSIZED SUPERSTAR SUNGLASSES

+1 Savoir Faire: Dazzling reflexes -1 Visual Calculus: The mirror lies

Is your own stardom too dazzling for your eyes? Can't bear to look at your own fabulous reflection in the mirror? Then these classic oversized sunglasses are for you.

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - There's a trap in the reeds at your feet. Looks like the same one you saw Morell set before -- same mesh, same wiring.

Look around.

Reach for the trap.

[Leave.]

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - Behind you, the ruins of a residential building loom over the reeds. They whisper amongst themselves confidentially. Snowflakes cling to their shivering stems.

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - When this district was booming, the reeds were kept at bay. Nothing obscured the freshly painted façades, nowhere for drunks and adventurous teenagers to hide. Now only the wind blows...

2. Reach for the trap.

TRAP: BOATHOUSES - Locusts are crawling around in the trap, confused but uneaten. You see no carnivorous *reed-phasmid* gorging on them.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Big surprise." The lieutenant grins mirthlessly. "Anyway -- one down, three to go."

"Damn, I was hoping it would be in the *first* one."

"No need to grin. I'm not *expecting* to find anything. I'm helping some citizens and getting some fresh air."

"It'll be in the next one. *Surely*."

Say nothing, just put the trap down.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Surely," he repeats and looks at the sea, then at you putting the trap back on the ground. "Anyway, the air is nice and fresh here..."

2. [Leave.]

The boathouse is shoddily constructed. A strong breeze might blow it over.

Ancient paint is peeling off the roof of this shaded bench, covered in rust.

The sign says: "Entrée interdite".

An old ticket-taker booth. No longer in operation.

People paid money to park here? No one would pay now...

The door is not only barred shut -- it is inaccessible.

FALN "PIPO" PIPO

+2 Logic: Ultimate peak focus -1 Perception: Eyes on the road

The small wire framing inside this futuristic-looking FALN pipo-hat gives it the aerodynamic shape of a swoop-skiers helmet, but none of its protective qualities. Covers the wearer's ears and eyebrows to bring down the drag coefficient.

🎵 Martinaise, Terminal B (muted)

PERCEPTION (SIGHT) - A scattering of bullet holes is spread across the cracked wall, reaching from one corner to the other.

"Look, Kim. Even more bullet holes. Something's definitely gone down here."

[Visual Calculus - Heroic 15] Why this many bullet holes?

Walk away. [Leave.]

KIM KITSURAGI - "Hmm, correct." The lieutenant examines the wall closely. "The density of the bullet holes is unusual, even in a general *average bullet hole frequency in Martinaise* sense. Grim affairs."

"Meaning, this is *a lot* of bullet holes." He brushes the wall with his hand. "Looks like fully-automatic rifle fire. Something you don't see these days..."

"Why not?"

Say nothing, just nod.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant also nods. It is quite a scene -- the two of you standing next to the broken wall of an abandoned building... nodding. Nodding along.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Medium: Success] - Two officers of the law against the world. Nodding in unison. It is your source of power. The bond of camaraderie between you... is palpable...

Nod even more.

Shake your head.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant is nodding so hard it looks like his head is about to snap off his neck.

Don't stop nodding.

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant matches your nodding pace. He's a true professional at this.

ENDURANCE [Easy: Success] - The nodding's reaching critical mass! You can't take this much longer, captain!

Keep nodding, goddamn it! Stay the course!

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - A small bead of sweat runs down the side of the lieutenant's face as he maintains his nodding...

Just one more nod.

Stop nodding.

KIM KITSURAGI - As the lieutenant takes out a handkerchief and softly taps the sweat off his temple... a faint crack echoes through the coast...

ENDURANCE - Abort! Abort! No... shit, it's too late!

-1 Health

"OH SHIT FUCK HELL!"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Busted the neck, did you?" He cranes his neck left and right, stretching. "Glad I stopped when I did... my neck was really starting to hurt. Don't worry, it'll mend... now, we should get going."

Hold on...

2. [Visual Calculus - Heroic 15] Why this many bullet holes?

+1 Bullet holes on the plaza. +1 Bullet holes in the back yard. +1 Know about the revolution. +1 Know about Feld Electrical.

VISUAL CALCULUS [Heroic: Success] - A row of ghostly shades stand facing the wall. There are many of them, a dozen at least, their heads lowered and eyes blindfolded. It's quiet. No sound, no movement.

Ten metres away -- other shades are lined up in an orderly manner, automatic rifles primed. A gust of wind blows by -- the coats of the firing squad flap slowly in the breeze. A single person stands on the side.

The morning sun rises beyond the horizon, radiating the first light of the day. The order was carried out at dawn.

A long time has passed since the moment of this fusillading. Rain and brine have since washed all the blood away. Not a trace remains.

What *is* this...

VISUAL CALCULUS - The abundance of bullet holes leads to two options: either an inordinate amount of executions were performed here, or they did not use a *conscience round* -- where only one soldier has the loaded rifle. Looks like this was a mass execution with everyone fully armed.

+5 XP

Look at the people against the wall.

Look at the line of soldiers.

Look at the person standing on the side.

"Kim, who was who in this execution?"

Good bye. [Leave.]

VISUAL CALCULUS - A host of men, probably in everyday clothes -- ragged from the conflict and covered in dust. They were not sitting (a common practice for executions in some nations), as demonstrated by the height level of the bullet holes.

They stand, facing the wall... It's impossible to discern any details about their personality or background.

ESPRIT DE CORPS [Easy: Success] - Ordinary people -- familiar, each and every one of them.

Who were they?

ESPRIT DE CORPS - Comrades. The forsaken, the wretched, who tried to rise against the horrors of the world.

2. Look at the line of soldiers.

VISUAL CALCULUS - Seven men in combat uniforms and dark coats, holding automatic rifles aimed at the people. Soldiers from some side... but from which one?

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - Men of duty. Dark duty.

Who were they?

AUTHORITY - Murderers. Twisted by orders. Young boys forced into killing.

3. Look at the person standing on the side.

VISUAL CALCULUS - The commandant -- the one who gives the order. Machine gun fire crackling through the air, the lights of the muzzle flashes dancing on his face...

4. "Kim, who was who in this execution?"

KIM KITSURAGI - At first the lieutenant doesn't say a word... he just stares at the wall. "I don't know," he says finally. "I don't know who died here, lined up beside that horrible wall. It could have been any of the parties involved in the Revolution."

"Perhaps the ones executed here were the loyalist-conservatives -- killed by the communists at the start of the civil war. Or it could have been the communists, put to death during the last stretch of the conflict by the Coalition forces."

LOGIC [Easy: Success] - Remember what Trant Heidelstam said about Feld.

"What if it was the Feld personnel when their assets were being seized by the revolutionaries?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Another likely scenario." The lieutenant nods.

REACTION SPEED [Easy: Success] - Or maybe...

"What about people from the Coalition? The so-called moralists?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yeah... it's very unlikely the Coalition forces were the ones who died here. They were always the *last* ones against the wall."

"To be honest, if a Coalition member was anyone in this situation -- it was the commandant. The superior giving the orders."

+5 XP

5. Good bye. [Leave.]

VISUAL CALCULUS - A cold sea wind blows away the figures.

🎵 Disco Elysium

This section of the coast hasn't been used in decades.

We've been looking at that wall long enough for Gary and Morell to have left.

TRAP: MORELL - This is the trap Morell just set. Checking it over, he said, is just a *technicality*, but...

Look around.

Reach for the trap.

[Leave.]

TRAP: MORELL - The reeds by the abandoned camp site hiss and shake.

SHIVERS [Easy: Success] - The later it gets, the colder. Remnants of the camp can still be seen in the sand, the fire that's gone out... you feel strange, somehow.

2. Reach for the trap.

TRAP: MORELL - This trap is also full of panicked locusts. No sign of any cryptozoological beast inside.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Another empty trap," the lieutenant takes a note -- more out of habit than duty.

"Let's keep going. The next one is the *lucky* one."

"How are you enjoying the cardio, lieutenant? I'm quite enjoying it myself."

"I want to make it clear that I don't *actually* believe the phasmid exists, okay?"

Say nothing, just put the trap down.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Always up for a good jog -- otherwise, would I still be *on* this case with *you*?" He smiles and raises his collar. It's windy.

2. [Leave.]

We're going to double back now, starting to head northeast along the boardwalk - past where Trant and his son are.

Someone must have worked hard to smash the plastic dome.

Buzz. Hum. The electricity flows through the wires with audible power.

RAILING - Someone has left an unidentifiable article of clothing on this railing. It smells really bad.

Touch it.

Take a closer look.

Maybe later. [Leave.]

RAILING - The cloth, if you can still call it that, makes a soft crunching sound as you thrust your finger into it.

2. Take a closer look.

RAILING - It's streaked with dried seagull shit and tangled with pieces of seaweed. A dangling arm suggests that there might be a jacket beneath the crust of filth.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - It seems likely that it was left in the surf until someone laid it out on this fence to dry out. Unfortunately that just seems to have stiffened it into a shapeless mass.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Please tell me you're not taking that with you."

"I think this is the jacket the Idiot Doom Spiral Guy wanted me to find."

"Why not?"

"It might be a clue."

KIM KITSURAGI - "A clue? You think our suspect is a seagull who's been defecating on unsuspecting jackets?"

"No."

"Yes."

"It could have been multiple seagulls."

KIM KITSURAGI - The lieutenant sighs.

CONCEPTUALIZATION [Medium: Success] - A poet could write a dozen verses and still not begin to capture the profound vexation in that sigh.

INTERFACING [Trivial: Success] - You should still take it. It's probably Doom Spiral's.

A makeshift roof. Vagrants have tried to make the boardwalk habitable.

That tarp will keep out neither rain, nor snow, nor wind.

A coin operated weighing machine. Hasn't been used for a decade.

MEGA-BINO'S PRESCRIPTION LENSES

+2 Encyclopedia: Discover your inner bino -1 Perception: Nausea inducing hell-glasses

Whose idiotic idea were square and beige plastic frames anyway? Beige is a colour that does not look good on *anyone*. Not to mention that seeing the world through these exceedingly thick lenses feels almost nauseating...

FILTHY JACKET

This filthy rag has been at the mercy of the elements for quite some time. It's streaked with seagull shit and abnormally stiff from god-knows-what natural processes. You can't even tell what brand it is.

>INTERACT

FILTHY JACKET- As you hold it in your hands, it makes an uncomfortable crunching sound...

Man, how did this jacket get so disgusting?

Let's not think about that right now. [Put the filthy jacket away.]

FILTHY JACKET- It's a sordid, filthy tale, not for the weak. Are you sure you can stomach it?

COMPOSURE [Medium: Success] - Some secrets are better left uncovered. Don't even try, seriously.

But the *content*!

Think about it.

Don't think about it.

FILTHY JACKET- It occurs to you that you're not even *holding* the jacket itself, but rather the thick crust of jetsam and seagull shit that ensconces it.

PERCEPTION (SMELL) [Medium: Success] - It smells like a dead sea creature, tangled in grey strands of seaweed. It must have spent quite some time in the water before the tide deposited it ashore...

Gross.

Okay, but what's the crust *made* of?

FILTHY JACKET- Somehow it was carried or dragged to the boardwalk, if not by human hands than perhaps the feral dogs that prowl the beaches at night...

VISUAL CALCULUS [Medium: Success] - The faint impressions of many footprints are also present, though it's impossible to tell what kind or how many. Suffice to say, the jacket spent some time on the ground before someone draped it over the railing...

Okay, that's pretty disgusting. I've had enough.

What happened once someone put it on the railing?

FILTHY JACKET- The crust is hard. This jacket spent at least a day baking in the sun. Who knows what happened to it then?

SHIVERS [Medium: Success] - Somewhere, high above the city, a pair of seagulls trace loops through the air...

They are like the bombardiers of the aerostatic brigades, gliding above a *target-rich environment*...

All of a sudden, the bomb bay doors open, and their white glittering payload rushes to the ground...

*SPLAT*. An explosion of white on a man's shoe. A curse goes up, but the birds do not hear.

Why did I just spend all this time thinking about seagull shit?

I feel like I really understand this jacket now. [Put the jacket away.]

COMPOSURE - It's too late! You've already thought about it. And now your hands are covered in muck!

Ew, ew, ew! (Flick your hands.)

Maybe if I wipe my hands on my pants?

COMPOSURE - Now you're just flicking that shit everywhere! This is a disaster. You'll never get the smell out.

-1 Morale

Vagrants have recently painted the tarp red. Water drips from it.

POSTCARD "COURON '33"

This one has 'HELL' written on its back. It could not be further from the truth. It's the boom years, and Couron, the nicest district in Revachol West, is enjoying a sun drenched day. Tall and handsome buildings rise from the riverside: steel, iron and yellow limestone, with cloud shadows sliding on the facades.

A big wine canister -- it's open and empty.

Hm, I've hit image limit. I think I'll close this post here and continue in a new one.