#why is this man always waking up and choosing violence

[lunapwrites]

biscuits and gravy my beloved.

[adragonprinceswhore]

Rumours

Aemond Targaryen x (Ex)Wife

Chapter VI: Storms 🎼 Masterlist

Summary: Aemond’s wife left him following an explosive fight last week, and he hasn’t been able to find rest since.

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, depictions of a toxic relationship, possessive Aemond, shitty and useless coping mechanisms, reference to violence and injuries

Word count: 2300

A/N: Thank you always sweet sweet Justine (@theoneeyedprince) for looking this over and giving me ideas 🤭 ILY! The lyrics are interwoven with the story in this chapter, hope it makes sense! As you can tell, this is set a week after his wife left him, and before he wrote his new songs for Rumours…

‘Every night that goes between, I feel a little less’

8 hours and 25 minutes.

That’s how much sleep he’d gotten in the last week.

Since the fight.

Fights. Plural.

It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten into a physical altercation with his brother. His childhood memories are tainted by endless disputes, especially after their father died, back when Aegon would sneak out to get drunk while their mother worried sick at home.

Why was his brother seemingly incapable of behaving well? Aemond saw how his mother worried herself sick over her oldest son, while also having to deal with grieving the loss of her husband, and navigate the internal political turmoil the death of such an influential man left behind. And Aegon couldn’t even spare her further heartache.

Fucking pathetic excuse of a man.

It was, however, the first time he had hurt his wife. Physically, that is. She’d told him he’d hurt her before, when his jealousy got the best of him.

He knows he’s crossed a line. As soon as he lost his temper and threw that plate against the wall. Dangerously close to where she was standing.

He regrets it all. Why did it even have to happen in the first place? If she had just cooperated with him; worked with him instead of against him. Instead of hiding things from him, talking with Tyland behind his back.

He always knew that she’d leave. One day.

He’d never leave her.

Frustrated, Aemond lets out a quiet sigh and gets up from the bed, moving to sit on the edge, slouching as he places his head in his hands. He suddenly notices how quiet the room is; the loud thoughts echoing in his mind momentarily disappear as he ponders what he could do instead of sleeping.

He moves quietly to not wake Alys next to him, whose heavy breathing provides the only real sounds in the room. It is almost eerily quiet now that he thinks about it; such a stark contrast to the insufferable buzzing of thoughts roaming around in his head.

Rest doesn’t come to him anymore. 

His mind can’t provide him with any repose. Not even for a second.

He closes the door to the bedroom with a quiet ‘click’ and exits, moving towards the balcony connected to the large, open-plan living room.

She had picked this apartment, together with him.

Our home.

The memories of going to look at cabinets for the kitchen together, choosing a sofa together, fucking on said sofa, overtake his mind before he can distract himself.

‘As you slowly go away from me’

When he realised that she’d left and wouldn’t come back, he tried to erase her from the space, shoving all of her belongings into one of the wardrobes in the spare bedroom.

He couldn’t bear to throw them out. He couldn’t bear to see them either. She’d left behind everything he’d ever given her; all gifts he’d carefully picked out for her. Seeing her wedding ring on top of the kitchen island, next to the divorce papers and the shattered plate on the floor had made his stomach turn when he came home from the hospital.

‘This is only another test’

He’d suffered much harsher trials than this.

When he lost his eye in a car crash at only 10 years old, he suffered through the most excruciating pain of his life. He had to relearn everything; how to focus his gaze, how to read and write without developing a headache, how to play his favourite sports without running into his opponents. 

He’d managed all that, yet this time he felt consumed by an aching sense of dread.

A hopelessness deep in his chest.

‘Every night you do not come’

It was all too late. No turning back.

‘Your softness fades away’

He knows that the aching dread is the longing he feels for her. The thought of never touching her again, never being close to her again. 

Never being in her embrace again.

He feels a chill run through his body as he settles on the armchair placed by the wall, overlooking the bright lights of King’s Landing.

Reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nearby table, he takes one out and lights it before taking a long drag, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back to rest against the back of the chair.

She’d chosen the patio furniture as well.

He fucking resents himself in this moment. Why is his body, his mind, incapable of doing what he wants? Forget her. She sure as hell wants to forget him.

‘Did I ever really care that much’

‘Is there anything left to say’

When she left during the fight backstage last week, he had wanted to run after her. But then he threw one quick glance at his older brother, and could barely see his expression due to all the blood smeared over his face.

He called out to him, but Aegon didn’t answer, laying limply on the old leather sofa with one arm hanging from the side and his mouth open. That was when Jace had come back in, face turning white in an instance as he was confronted with the scene before him, pulling out his phone from his pocket with a shaky hand to call an ambulance.

Aemond went with his brother to hospital, waiting by his side until he regained consciousness while trying to calm his distressed mother and wide-eyed sister. They had looked at him in the same way she had; eyes filled with animosity. He could barely meet their gazes as shame left his cheeks scalding.

‘Every hour of fear I spend’

‘My body tries to cry’

All he could think of at that moment was coming home. Home to her. To her warmth.

‘Living through each empty night’

‘A deadly call inside’

He takes another drag of his cigarette. Not being able to sleep, to eat, to think clearly is so foreign to him. It’s like when he lost his eye; he has to relearn everything. How to fucking breath.

There’s this restlessness inside him that won’t disappear, no matter how hard he tries to exorcise it. He’d tried going for walks; his usual go-to when he needed to clear his mind.

On one of those walks he’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes.

How much time had passed? How long had he been out? He could hardly remember where he’d gone, what he’d seen or what time of day it’d been.

He’s lucky to have grown up in the centre of King’s Landing, knowing every street by heart, intuition leading his steps as he eventually finds his way back home. To an empty flat, haunted only by the memory of her.

She haunts him worst internally though, through his own mind.

There, in the eye of his mind, he sees his greatest fear; her with another man.

Any time he closes his eyes, the same image greets him; her, naked in the arms of another, throwing her head back in bliss.

She sighs and moans, letting her new man know how good he’s making her feel. She tells him too; that he’s the best she’s ever had.

She runs her hand down his cheek, unmarred and smooth. No harshly red scar, no unpleasant raised skin. Someone pretty, like her.

‘I haven’t felt this way I feel’

‘Since many a years ago’

He tried drinking; Aegon’s lobotomy of choice.

After downing two bottles of the Dornish red he’d received from some business associate when he was still working with his grandfather, he found sleep for 1 hour and 12 minutes before waking up with a racing heart and body covered in a slick sheet of cold sweat.

He would have tried talking to someone, if the only person he wanted to speak to hadn’t blocked his number. He’d realised that after being connected directly to voicemail each time he called her. That didn’t stop him from leaving messages though. First, they were filled with apologies and promises of never losing his cool again, of being better for her, of reassurance that he loves her. But as he grew to understand that she wouldn’t come back, his frustrations got the best of him.

He called her just to scream at her, into the nothingness that was her disconnected voicemail.

“I always knew you’d leave me! You fucking liar”, he spat as he threw his phone against the same wall he’d smashed the plate against.

It doesn’t matter. She’ll never hear them anyway.

The tiny bit of relief he felt afterwards hadn’t made any significant difference. He still couldn’t sleep, couldn’t find even a moment of tranquillity.

He places the cigarette between his teeth as he reaches forward to grab the notebook on the patio table next to his seat.

There’s one thing he still hasn’t tried.

As he plucks the pencil from where it's hanging on the side of the hardcover, he begins writing without thinking too much of what’s coming out, letting his hand guide his thoughts as he brings his plagued mind down on the paper.

‘In those years and the lifetimes past’

‘I did not deal with you, I know’

‘Though the love has always been’

His most recent attempt at finding respite from his mind was sleeping in his bed.

Our bed, he corrects himself with a wince.

He’d met Alys Rivers, manager at Riverland Creative Agency, earlier that day when he stopped for a drink during his quotidian nightly walk. She recognised him instantly, swiftly approaching him to mask her true intentions with some saccharine small talk. He knew she wanted to inquire about his band’s management; if they were satisfied with Tyland or if they’d be persuaded into joining her instead.

But all he could focus on was her hand casually placed on his shoulder as she spoke, her large, green eyes locking with his as she playfully teased him about his stoicism.

The heat radiating from her palm alone lit a fire inside of him, but rather than lust, he felt something akin to longing.

Yearning.

For warmth.

He asked her if she’d like to have a drink at his house, and when she replied with a wink and a cheeky retort, he knew she’d give him what he craved.

‘So I search to find an answer there’

‘So I can truly win’

Alys didn’t feel like her. Didn’t set the fire within him ablaze. Nor did she extinguish it. He didn’t feel better; he felt the same.

Restless.

Uneasy.

Different.

Broken.

‘Every hour of fear I spend’

‘My body tries to cry’

‘Living through each empty night’

‘A deadly call inside’

His hand moves on its own accord, words pouring out from him without having a chance to pass through his consciousness.

‘So I try to say goodbye, my friend’

‘I’d like to leave you with something warm’

Maybe he never gave her comfort?

Maybe all he did was take?

No. He knows he’s been a dutiful husband. He’s always been by her side, supporting her no matter what.

Unlike his own father; a shitty husband who was more of a burden on his mother’s shoulders than a pillar to lean on. Aemond knows that he’s nothing like his father. He gave his marriage his all; he never neglected his wife. 

He gave her all of him.

‘But never have I been a blue calm sea’

‘I’ve always been a storm’

But she didn’t want his love. She didn’t appreciate all he’d done for her. She didn’t understand him, not really. If she did, she wouldn’t shut him out like this.

Fuck her selfishness.

When he left his grandfather's firm to pursue music full-time, Otto Hightower had threatened to disown him, telling him that he’d make sure all ties Aemond had to the Hightower name would be cut off.

All he knew was how to be a good son and grandson. How to please his grandfather and mother. But when he confided in her about his predicament, asking her for advice on how to handle his grandfather's wrath, she’d cupped his cheeks and gazed into his eyes as she reassured,

“I am your family now, Aemond. We’ll always have each other” 

Liar.

He feels bile rise in the back of his throat as he keeps writing, allowing the feelings he didn’t know how to express some outlet. The thought of her now makes him feel sick.

‘Always been a storm’

‘We were frail’

He feels stupid; blinded by the light of her love.

‘She said, “Every night he will break your heart”’

‘I should have known from the first, I’d be the broken hearted’

Being given such warmth from another person. That’s what made him addicted to her.

He’d never experienced that before, not even from his mother or sister. There was always this restraint; this rift between them, for as long as he could remember.

But she let him in with open arms; let him into her comfort without resistance.

And now she’d taken that away from him.

‘I loved you from the start’

Looking at the lyrics written down in front of him, he doesn’t feel better. His shoulders don’t feel lighter. His chest doesn’t feel less tight. All he knows is that she did this. She promised to be by his side forever and broke that vow.

He leans back in the chair, fiddling with his lighter in one hand as he reads over the text again. What would she say if she saw how much she hurt him?

Would she come back?

The fleeting thought makes a tight knot form in his throat and he swallows forcefully to make it go away.

She’ll never come back.

He picks up the paper, letting the fire from the lighter in his other hand grace over the bottom corner, and sets it alight.

A/N: No, this is not a song form Rumours 🤭 but technically he doesn’t record it, so I think it’s fair! Tysm for reading 🩵

[miniwheat77]

Smash pt 2. (dbf!Price X Reader.)

!hefty age gap, daddy kink, mentions of violence, smut, THIS IS FILTHY AGE GAP SMUT YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

John rubs his eyes as he wakes up. His phone is ringing and he wants to answer it before it wakes you.

He sits up and grasps the phone, silencing it and walking out of the room before answering it. He regrets not taking a look at who’s calling this early. “Hello?” John asks into the phone.

“John.”

John sighs as soon as he hears his voice come over the phone. “We need to talk about this John. I just got a call from a buddy of mine saying that he saw you with Y/N buying groceries. How long is this going to last?”

John shakes his head. “That’s none of your business.”

“My daughter is my business.”

“Hardly, you treat her like rubbish.” He scoffs. He’s trying to talk low so that he doesn’t wake you. He can hear your dad sigh on the other end of the phone. “Listen. If you part ways with her right now, never speak with her again. I can let this go. We can continue to be good friends John. I can forgive you.” John shakes his head. He can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Your daughter needs someone to guide her. Someone who won’t treat her like she’s nothing. She needs support. She needs a fucking father. Who chooses her over his wife. Who puts her first. Who gives a shit.”

“And what, you want that to be you?”

“Course not, I love Y/N. The more she talks about you and everything you’ve done to her, the more I hate you. I mean really. You’ve always put Y/N last and truly, it disgusts me. You’ve messed up with this one but I’m going to pick up the pieces and help her heal. Until you’re ready to apologize to Y/N for all you’ve done and want to be a better father to her, don’t call again.”

A ‘beep’ is all your dad hears on the other end of the line.

John sighs.

He needs to wake up. He makes his way into the kitchen for coffee.

Once you smell it, you start to stir in your sleep. Feeling the bed empty makes you sigh. You didn’t like waking up alone. Maybe choosing a military man who wakes up so early didn’t help with that. But because of who he was and what he meant to you. You’d deal with it.

You sit up, wincing as your feet hit the cold hard wood floor. Standing up. You make your way out of the room and down the hallway to the kitchen. “Morning darling.” John smiles. “Morning.” You smile. Picking up the coffee pot and pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You make your way over to him, sitting across the table from him. “Something wrong?” You ask. “Uh.. well.” He sighs. “Your dad called me this morning.” He mumbles. “Oh boy. What did he have to say?” You ask, sitting up more. “Just.. a bunch of bullshit. How if I get away from you right now he’ll forgive me. Bunch of rubbish.” He rolls his eyes. He sees you smile. “Got quite a way with words, does he?” You giggle. He shakes his head. “God no.”

“Best thing about that man is his daughter.” He winks at you. Seeing your cheeks warm up. “I know right. I’m pretty great.” You sip your coffee. It’s still too hot to drink. “Was thinking we could go to the mall today.” He says. You tilt your head. “Hm? Why?”

“Get you something nice.” He shrugs. You laugh. “No John. Quit trying to spend all your money on me.” You roll your eyes. He stands up, making his way round the table. Sliding your chair out slightly. “Ah cmon darling. Maybe we can find you something pretty to wear tonight. Something we’ll both like ah?” He bites at his lip. “That’s the real reason you wanna go hm?” You laugh. “Well. You already call me daddy. Might as well give you the sugar part too, right?” You roll your eyes. “You’re not my sugar daddy John. You’re my boyfriend.” You scoff. He tilts his head, gliding his tongue over his teeth. “Boyfriend huh? I like that. Makes me feel not so old.” He laughs. “Cmon though. I can look for some stuff, you can look for some stuff. We can look for some stuff together. It’ll be a date.” He smiles. “Alright alright. Let me get dressed.” You laugh.

———

Your eyes scan the whole wall of fragrances.

“Oh dear.” John mumbles. You can’t help but laugh at his apprehension.

“You got 4. It’s buy 3, get 3 free. So I can find 2.” You smile. “Right. Right. But if you want more than that, I’ll buy you 3 more.” He laughs. “No. 2 is good. I can get a spray and a lotion.

You spray one on a fragrance tester card. “What about this one?” You ask. He leans into it, taking a sniff. His nose crinkles up. “Bloody hell. What is that?” He pulls away like his nose has just been assaulted. You roll your eyes. “So dramatic John.” You laugh.

After looking across a few more, you find one you really like. “What about this one?” You decide to spray it on your wrist and let it soak into your skin for a second before letting him smell it.

He nods his head. “Like that one.” He smiles. “Perfect. Now let’s go, this store is giving me a headache.” You murmur. Going up to the front.

“Did you guys find everything you were looking for today?”

You nod your head. “Yeah we did.” You smile. After finishing checking out, you make your way around the mall. Coming across a Victoria's Secret. "Isn't this what you came here for John?" You smirk. Seeing his cheeks turn pink. He rolls his eyes. "You think I'm scared?" He laughs. "Course not. Cmon."

You're shopping around a bit, you've only found a couple of things to buy. You don't expect to run into your friend. The one who was supposed to go to the barbecue with you. You wanted to call her up and thank her for not showing up. Than, you might not have gone home with John. She approaches you when she sees you. "Hey Y/N." She smiles. "Hey. What are you doing?" You ask. "Just shopping around. I haven't heard from you in a couple weeks. been worried about you." She looks concerned. "Oh... It's a long story." You blush. She looks confused. "Sorry darling, I had to take that phone call." John appears from behind you and once her eyes see him, they widen slightly. "Oh. I see. Is this uh..." She asks. Seeing you nod your head. "Oh shit." She laughs. "I missed a few chapters I see." She smiles. "John, this is my friend I told you about, the one who was supposed to come to the barbecue." He reaches a hand out and firmly shakes her hand. "Nice to meet you. Y/N has told me a lot about you." He nods. His accent is thick just like you said it was.

She laughs. "Trust me, Y/N has told me A LOT about you too." She winks. Seeing crimson rush up your cheeks. "Well I got class in a few hours and I still have more shopping to do. I'll see you around Y/N. Nice meeting you John." She smiles. After some more goodbye's, you're parting ways. After checking out and going through a couple more stores with John, you're making your way out to the parking lot. "Eventful day ah?" He laughs. "Very."

He opens up your door for you and just as you're about to get in, you hear someone calling his name from across the parking lot. "Hey John." You see a man jogging up to him. He's familiar. You seen him around your dad a few times, knowing who he is. He's a friend of both John and your dad. "Is... Is that Y/N?" He asks. Seeing you sitting in the passenger seat. "Yeah." John smiles. "Oh.. so what he said is true." He looks awkward. "What did he say?" John crosses his arms. "That you were messing around with his daughter." He laughs, turning to look at you. "You okay honey?" He asks. You narrow your eyes. "Oh, I'm great. Better than ever." You stand up, pushing the door open further. Wrapping an arm around John. "I guess you could say that. I don't know why he acts like he even cares about her. You know he let his wife send Y/N off drunk from that last get together they had? If it weren't for me she would've had to walk home." John shakes his head. "You're kidding, he always made himself out to sound like a great dad." He shakes his head. "No, his wife had my car towed the next morning and he didn't even care." You grumble. "Wow. I'm sorry to hear that Y/N. Well... as weird as it is to see the both of you together, I hope you're doing well. See you around." He tilts his head. John waves and you get back into his truck.

"Jesus. Let's get home before we run into my dad next." You laugh. "No kidding." John laughs.

———

John is finishing up the dishes. You said you needed to shower and get ready for school the next day, so you're upstairs.

You feel a little bad for leaving him hanging but you know the surprise you have for him will make up for it.

You finish putting on the set of black lingerie he had his eye on. Waiting for him to come upstairs. You can hear his footsteps coming upstairs. Waiting in the doorway of his bathroom for him. When he steps inside, you step into his line of sight. Seeing a smirk grow at his lips. "Jesus..." He breathes. He steps closer to you, hands gliding over your hips to pull you closer to him. "Where you been all my life huh?" He laughs. Pressing his lips to yours.

Before that night at your dads house, if someone had told John this is where he'd be a couple months later, he'd tell them they're crazy. His hands glide down your ass, he hears you gasp because of how cold they are. "Jesus." You laugh. Taking a breath. "You're perfect you know that?" He breathes. He pulls you back into him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you standing between his legs. He toys with the black lace of the lingerie set. You take in a deep breath, eyes feeling heavy as his hands climb higher up your stomach, hands cupping your breasts.

You didn't know how long this would last. Maybe John would have a come to jesus moment and feel bad for messing around with you because you were so young. Maybe he'd tell you to stay away from him someday, restore that friendship with your dad. Leave you with nothing. Maybe he didn't really believe that you were in love with him.

But you knew, all you could do was savor it. Relish in every last burn his fingers left on your skin. You tilt your head back as his hand moves higher, brushing over your throat. John is like some sick drug. The effects he has on you are everlasting. He presses his hand over your throat, pushing you back so that he could spin you around. He pushes you back onto the bed and you barely realize where you are. "Am I losing you darling? You this crazy about me huh?" He laughs. You look up at him, gliding your tongue over your lips. You don't know what to say, so you choose to say nothing at all.

He grasps the hem of his shirt. Pulling it over his head. "S'alright. You can keep daydreaming. I'll take you somewhere nice baby." He leans down, kissing you again. He's got himself propped up with one hand to unbutton his jeans. Once he's freed himself, he pushes your legs apart. Grasping the panties you had on and pulling them down. He moves himself up. Looking down at you. It's dim in the room. You swallow hard. He lowers his head, lips right near your ear. "Just relax for daddy, yeah?" He smiles. His warm breath causes chills to rise on your skin. "Fuck." You breathe. He lines himself up with your entrance, sinking into you. A hiss leaves his lips. He doesn't feel he'll ever get used to the way you wrap so tightly around him.

"Fuck." He breathes. He slides out, pushing himself back inside. The warmth he feels from you is always so much. He doesn't know how he holds back from cumming so fast that it's pathetic.

The way he grips the sheets is like a maniac. Holding on for dear life as he loses himself in you.

"Look at me baby." He breathes. Lifting your chin to look at him. You look up at him, eyes full of tears of pleasure. They always are when the both of you are intimate with each other. Your thighs shiver and he's barely touched you. "Give yourself to me." He breathes. "Want you to look at me okay?" He breathes. "Keep looking at me baby." He breathes. He raises his hips just slightly, rutting deeper into you. Your eyes close instinctively. You hear him chuckle. "Keep them open darling. Keep looking at me." He breathes. He keeps a steady pace, watching the walls behind your eyes start to crumble. He's so good at making you fall apart. Picking apart every last nerve ending in your body. He uses his thumb to rub your sensitive nub, sparks shooting into your lower stomach. Your lips part and cries start to leave your lips. Your eyes get heavy but you obey him. Keeping them open.

You push him off of you, taking him off guard.

You push him back, climbing on top of him. He gasps as you slide down onto his length again. It's easy with how wet he's made you. You grasp his wrists and pin them above his head. He entertains it and lets you. Wondering what exactly you had in store for him. "It's your turn. Your turn to look at me." You start to rut your hips into his, seeing his face turn up like he's in pain. You know he's not. He's feeling good. He groans out as you raise your hips off of him, sliding back down on him. You keep eye contact with him. Getting exactly what you wanted. His eyes are fixated on yours and his lower stomach clenches up. "Fuck, you feel so good baby." He hisses. He lowers his gaze for a second to watch his length disappear into you. The perfect show.

You're soaking him, the wetness of your pussy gathers at the base of his cock. He can feel it running down him. "Fuck- John." You pant. He grips your hair. Tugging your head back. "No, that's not what you call me baby." He growls. Your body shakes over him. "Daddy." You mewl. "So close.. so so close." You sob. He starts to rut his hips up into you. watching you fall apart above him. "Look at me." He sits up, holding you into him. He keeps thrusting up into you. "Cum with me. Look at me baby." He pants. Your hips jump slightly. Body going stiff as you cum, but you keep eye contact with him as he finishes you off. He holds you tight against him, thrusting up into you, emptying himself of his filth. Pumping you full of it.

When he finally stills inside of you, you take a deep breath. Laying your head on his shoulder. After a few minutes, he finally laughs. "Feel better sweetheart?"

"Much." You laugh.

"I'll always take care of you, you know." He brushes your hair out of your face. You rest your head on his chest. "You don't have to go through any more bullshit, not while I'm here."

Your dad gave John a choice.

But he thinks he's got his mind made up already.

[writersblockedx]

Something Inappropriate: Chapter Two

Read Chapter One here

Pairing - Professor!Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary - When Y/n's becomes endangered and has nowhere else to go, Spencer is the only one who can offer her the security she needs. Warnings - Panic attack, mentions of a past toxic relationship, stalking, some violence words - 2.3K

A/n - If you have any requests please put some in my ask box, I'm running out of ideas but I am obsessed with this man.

Masterlist

The morning after was one brought with embarrassment and regret. Y/n hadn't expected to get so drunk that her behavioural analysis professor was the one taking her back home, his hand at her waist, guiding her from his own car almost to her room. It was a memory she wished she could choose to forget. Alas, Monday morning rolled around quicker than she wanted.

Her first lecture was on victimology with the one and only Doctor Spencer Reid. And that morning was the first morning she didn't take one of the seats in the front row. Rather, she hid herself between fellow students and kept her head down. What she hadn't been aware of however, was the fact Spencer had been watching her from the moment she wandered into the lecture hall.

The truth was, the man had grown worrisome once he left the girl. She was an intoxicated young woman - there was a scary amount of danger which came with that. He knew so, he had seen it, he had seen so many bodies that were exactly like Y/n.

When an hour passed and students began filtering out of the lecture hall, Y/n found that the time to give the man an explanation - along with an array of apologises. Having her professor walk her home drunk certainly wasn't her finest moment.

The girl drew towards the desk where he was seated at the front, watching carefully at the other students who were paying no attention as they left. "Hi," Her voice was barely even a whisper.

But Spencer had offered her a smile which assured her that he hadn't any negative feelings from Friday night. He stood from his desk, "How are you feeling? I hope you had gotten enough sleep Friday."

She returned the smile. But her's was weak in comparison, "I certainly didn't wake up early Saturday." A moment passed and the man clocked the way she was checking the people around her as the very last students dawdled out the lecture hall. "I erm- thank you for what you did, you didn't have to but well, I'm glad you did."

"Any of your professors have a responsibility for your well-being and care, I'm sure any one of them would have done the same." But that was just it - they wouldn't have.

This was more than that. "It's not just that," She swallowed and double-checked they were alone. "I erm- I have this ex-boyfriend you see...scary, aggressive." Y/n's voice was beginning to shake; this wasn't a topic on which she was keen to speak about. "Even still, I mean it's been almost six months. He's determined to get to me, anyway he can. Friday night was my first night out since I left him. It's why I didn't go with the others to the club. He's well, risky and I have to be careful." Spencer had been listening ever so intently, his eyes pooling with sympathy from the moment she started opening up.

And then she shrugged as if what she had just said was nothing, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, had I walked home alone last night and he- he knew, well..." She didn't want to finish her sentence, nor did she have to.

Spencer understood. In the sense that he had hunted stalkers and resentful exes. He knew how they thought and more importantly, he knew how the victims felt. He knew exactly what she was going through. Now more than ever, he was relieved that he had taken her home. Before now, he wondered whether it had been inappropriate. But now he had reason for his actions.

"If anything ever happens, with him or anyone, anything, I'm always here." He assured with the tug of a grin.

She nodded, "Thank you, sir." She awkwardly crossed her arms over her stomach, barely able to meet the man's eyes. "You truly don't know the help you gave me that night."

"Always."

And them words echoed throughout her mind.

The professor was not only smart but kind. Far too kind. The way he spoke to her, the offer of support, it had made her heart weak. And for the rest of that month, she had spent it at the front row, asking for extra help on her essay, anything she could do. And maybe it wasn't just about needing support with her academics, but also finding security in someone. Something of which she had never really had. Especially after him.

It was just expected something was going to kick off. A week prior to the incident, Y/n had several facebook messages all from different accounts from her dreaded ex-boyfriend. All of which she had blocked. But they kept coming. Every morning she would grasp her phone, finding another request, another thread of messages. All of which were blocked, ignored, and tried to erase from her memory.

And then, on what seemed like the first day of Summer, it happened.

She was sat outside a bar with a couple of friends, drink in hand, giggling at something her male friend, Zack, had said. Everything was bliss. Drinks, conversation, friends. It was almost too perfect.

And then the ex-boyfriend wandered over. He had noticed Y/n from afar, storming over, yelling and anger forced from his lips. It had all happened in a flash. Zack stood to Y/n's defence. The next thing that happened, he had a bruised eye. Everyone was yelling. But he, the ex, he was yelling at her.

A punch.

A slap.

A scream.

It was all to quick for Y/n to keep up with. Things escalated and actions were chased. Not one of them were thinking things through. And when everything was all over, when one of the bartenders at the venue dragged the man away, Y/n could barely move. Tears were spilling from her eye line, pooling down her face. And when the chorus of 'are you okays' followed, she couldn't move her lips.

"I should walk you home," Offered one of close friends.

But even after the girl had registered her words, her head shook, "No, no I can't." One thing about this certain ex-boyfriend was that he hadn't never gone quietly. Too many times than she could keep count of, the man knocked on her door, found her in college, even a couple of times went knocking at her friend's houses and accommodation.

She couldn't go home - she couldn't go anywhere.

And then, her mind ran back to the most recent place in which she had felt safe: Doctor Spencer Reid. She swallowed and sniffled at her fallen tears, "I'll message you later," She told her group.

Zack, who had been nursing an early bruised eye, spoke first, "Where are you going to go?" He questioned as the concern for his friend was written over his tone.

"To get some help," She replied with the weakest smile she could muster. "I'll see you guys tomorrow," She gave them each a glance before turning her back. She didn't dare stay at that bar, she didn't dare go home, but she wanted somewhere safe. And that some place just happened to be a certain professor.

Y/n weaved through the college. Though with the time and the weather, it was practically empty. A few faculty members whom gave her a second glance when they caught the sight of her tears. And when she finally reached Doctor Spencer Reid's office, she didn't even bother knocking. Luckily, he was alone, grading papers and creating lesson plans. But at the sound of his door clicking open, his head lifted. Within a millisecond, his expression moulded into one of utter distress and worry.

He stood from his chair, watching as the flood gates opened from her pupils. "Y/n," He spoke her name like it was a prayer. "What- what happened?"A gentle hand reached out to her shoulder before he gestured for the girl to take a seat at the leather couch which faced his desk.

The girl followed him, not yet able to get breath out - never mind words. Her tears trailed down her cheeks as Spencer returned to the couch with her, a tissue in his hand, "Here," He gazed over her, attempting to try and find any suggestion to what might have happened. "Hey, you need to try slow down your breathing, in for four, out for six, okay?" He soothed, "I'll do it with you."

Y/n watched Spencer's chest a he gulped in a breath, holding it and then letting the air slowly exit his lungs. She followed along. And while it was a struggle at first, slowly, her breathing calmed and her tears dried. "That feel better?" The man questioned.

She nodded, "Yeah, yeah," The girl could only mumble. "Thank you."

"Of course, I used to have panic attacks at work sometimes," He admitted before standing, grasping a bottle of water from his wooden desk and handing it over to her. "You don't have to tell me, but if something happened, I'd like to know."

For a moment, her eyes fluttered away, finding the floor more interesting than he. She at least needed to explain to him why she had turned up at his office in such a state - it wasn't as if he didn't know the background anyway. "You remember that ex boyfriend I told you about?" Spencer nodded in understanding; it was almost like that was all he needed to know. "He spotted me in a beer garden with some friends and well...he snapped. I couldn't- I didn't-"

The man watched as her breath itched like she was unable to catch up with it once again, "It's okay," He calmed as his hand fell atop of her's. The girl's eyes shot up at the movement, to his skin falling over her own. It was supportive, she told herself. "Take your time."

And she did. A minute or so had passed and, when she felt ready, she continued to explain: "It happened so quick, I couldn't do anything but watch." She swallowed the lump which had grown harsh in her throat. "He knows where I live, he knows my friends, he knows everything." She wanted to point out how he didn't know Spencer but chose not to. "That's why I came here...I didn't have anywhere else." She explained.

Spencer was taking it all in. He glanced at her and he realised this sudden need to keep her safe, to protect her. The man tried to excuse that as his teaching duty, but this was more. She was more. "You know you can always come to me when you ever have any concerns." He reassured. "It's what I'm here for, and, personally, I believe you should talk to the student wellbeing team, they have the connections that will keep you safe." That's who should protect her - not him.

But Y/n's response suggested that wasn't an option, "Trust me I tried last year, they tried too, went to the police and anything - ironically enough." She scoffed ever so slightly as she leant back onto Spencer's couch, "They had a 'stern talking' to him, but it only made things stop for month." She went over, the memory of which still agitated her. And Spencer could tell such with the way her eyes were fighting to roll. "I don't know what to do now, I mean, I can't go home." If history had taught the girl anything, her ex-boyfriend would already be waiting for her at the accommodation hall.

"Y/n, I do hope you understand the severity of this," Spencer started, "This is text-book stalking. If the wellbeing team talking to the police didn't do anything, than maybe an FBI agent talking to them might." He offered.

Her brows raised, "You'd do that?"

"Only if you wanted me to."

Y/n thought it over but it was an easy answer; anything to get this to stop. "Please."

"Okay then, tomorrow, I'll go with you to the police station, we'll talk to them together and this time, i swear to you, they will put a stop to this." He seemed to promise. But this was no promise he should be making to a student - this sense of protection was one of which was questionable.

She offered him a smile and a, "Thank you." But a question still nagged at the both of them.

It was that desire to protect the girl which urged Spencer to speak, "Do you have somewhere safe you can stay tonight?"

Not her flat that was certain. Even a friend's house was out of the question. A motel...maybe. Y/n sound herself shrugging, "Not at mine no, he's been known to go to my friend's places too and my parents, they're travelling." They were always travelling - spending her inheritance money you see. "I've got some cash, I'll probably go stay at a motel for the night."

The thought of Y/n tossing and turning in a scratchy, stone-like mattress only made Spencer's heart ache. He didn't dare to let them thoughts consume him. So, instead, he offered an alternative solution. "I understand if you're not comfortable, but I have spare room, you're more than welcome if you need."

Her eyes shot up to his, almost like she didn't believe him, "Are you- are you sure?" Surely that wasn't allowed. Though, Y/n (and Spencer too), decided to tell themselves this was different. This situation was well...it had room for things that would otherwise seem inappropriate.

"Of course, you need to be safe and I won't let you sleep in a motel room." Spencer doubted she would even get any sleep at all.

And in that moment, in the aftermath of her panic attack, she accepted, "Okay then."

-

Taglist - @tonystankhere Let me know if you would like to be added for this little series / any future spencer fics :)

[navybrat817]

Bucky Barnes Masterlist - 2

Welcome to my 2nd Bucky Barnes Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Here you will find some of my darker fics. These may include triggers such as noncon, dubcon, violence, dark themes, etc. Please heed the warnings. Header and banner by @sgt-seabass​ and dividers by @firefly-graphics​. Check them out! ​

Main Masterlist | 1st Bucky Barnes Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Universes

Soldat and Sparrow Universe (Ongoing)

Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you’ll be free. Both of you.

Winter and Fire  🔥💙

Summary: You didn’t choose to be with Hydra. Neither did the Winter Soldier. 

War and Peace 🔥

Summary: Your first mission together brings inner war...peace.

Soldat and Sparrow  

Summary: No one touches his Sparrow.

Night and Day  🔥

Summary: Will you be another one of the Soldat’s lost memories?

Dark and Light

Summary: You learn the real reason why Hydra wants to keep you.

Black and White

Moon and Sun

Past and Future

The Pakhan and the Printsessa - Mob Newlyweds Universe (Ongoing) 💞

You’re married to Bucky Barnes, one of the most powerful men in the world. And all he wants is you.

Harmonious  🔥

Summary: You may think you’re a pawn in Bucky’s life, but you are his queen.

Hollow  🔥

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Husband and Wife  🔥💙

Summary: Bucky has to have you before you get to your wedding reception.

Honeymoon Suite 🔥

Summary: Bucky takes a call during your honeymoon, but you should know that you always come first.

Home Again  🔥

Summary: Your husband opens up to you about his past as you fall more in love.

Honesty and Lies

Honor and Obey

Hope, Faith and Love

Vampire Mob AU (Ongoing)

Power and money mean nothing to the powerful vampire ruler if you’re aren’t by his side.

Around Your Throat  🔥

Summary:  Bucky has the perfect accessory to go around your throat.

Lay Me Down  🔥💙

Summary: You look to the past and future on your last night as a human.

Disturbia - Dark Suburbia AU

You have a beautiful home and a loving partner. So, why does it feel like something is wrong with your neighborhood?

A Plum a Day  🔥🛑

Summary: You wake up beside Bucky, but you don't know how you got there.

Winter and Kisa - Mob AU 💞

The mobster doesn't care that you're an agent. He wants you to be his.

Give Me a Name

Summary: Someone put their hands on you and Bucky can't let it go.

Almost Like Home

Summary: Bucky told you his place would be your home one day. You see it firsthand with his closet.

Dark Club AU (Tagged as Turn It Up AU)

Hold You Tight  🔥🛑💞

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

There's Something in the Water - Coming Soon

One Shots and Imagines (over 1k) *Some fics may get additional parts

Run Like Hell  🔥🛑

Summary:  You weren’t supposed to see the Winter Soldier that day. So you ran. The Soldat loves a good chase though…and you’re not getting away from him that easily.

First and Last  🔥🛑 💞 (a/b/o)💙

Summary:  Masquerading as Beta was an easy choice. Too bad Bucky Barnes had other plans for you.

You’re My Obsession  🔥🛑💙

Summary: You’re the light in Bucky’s darkness. And he doesn’t want to share you with anyone, including Steve.

Best Man 🛑

Summary: Bucky found the girl of his dreams and Steve couldn’t be happier.

Remind Me  🔥💙

Summary: The apocalyptic world is crumbling around you and you need a reminder of who you belong to.

Push and Pull  (features Nick Fowler x Reader)🔥🛑💙💞 (Club)

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Prized Possession  🔥🛑 💞 (Librarian)

Summary: You’re Bucky’s rare treasure, his most prized possession.

A Debt to Pay  🔥💙💞 (Mob)

Summary: Bucky isn’t a man to be crossed.

What Goes Around  🔥💙 💞 (DBF/BFD)

Summary:  Bucky is your friend's dad and your dad's friend and nothing more. Until he isn't.

Send Me an Angel  🔥🛑 💞 (Bartender)

Summary: Bucky thinks you’re an angel.

Follow You Home (Stalker)

Summary: Bucky just wants to see you smile when he visits you at the flower shop.

Two Sides of the Same Coin🔥 (Bucky and the Winter Soldier)

Summary: A night of passion awakens something beneath the surface of the man you love.

What Happens in Vegas  🔥🛑 💞 (Fae)

Summary: You get more than you bargained for when you decide to get married in Vegas.

Within You  🔥🛑

Summary: Bucky shows a different side of himself when you venture into a corn maze.

Ficlets (under 1k)

Read Between the Lines ~ (threat not by Bucky) 

Summary: Things are left unsaid with Bucky during your recent mission.

Loyalty  🔥 (features Dark!Andy Barber x Reader)  

Summary: Loyalty is something you’ve learned to both loathe and appreciate.

Collateral Damage  🔥🛑

Summary: You pay the price when the Avengers try to undo the snap.

Long Night

Summary: Bucky is waiting for you when you come back from a night out.

A Hero’s Reward  🔥 🛑

Summary: Bucky is a hero and every hero deserves a reward.

100 Word Drabbles

Secret Admirer Secret Admirer - Part 2 Secret Admirer - Part 3 Secret Admirer - Part 4 Forced Bond 🔥🛑 Last Call  🔥🛑 His Sparrow  🔥🛑 Stalked

[dunechkka]

The shifting community and their lack of empathy with reality.

To start, I want to clarify that I do think shifting is real. I have tried for a while and failed. But I'm not dismissing any success just because i didn't, and I do not think it is only a "teenager" thing. I still from time to time watch the videos of this old man that has been shifting for years, or the 26 y/o woman that shifted during pandemic, and just like them there is a bunch of other adults that have accomplished shifting within the community. I do believe in shifting, and I have like 5 scripts that I'm yet to use, but shifting is not my goal now.

With that said, I'll start. I'll be diving this post in 3 it'll be pretty long. You can skip the 1st. The middle part is where I'll go to the point of the post.

Pt.1: is regarding my previous post and a comment someone made.

Pt.2: the problem with the quote "you always choosing to wake up in this reality"

Pt.3: examples.

Pt.1: Comment on my previous post.

I think is important addressing this, and it has in some part, to do with the main point.

Listen, I get it that you believe in shifting, but you have to stop making everything about it. You can not be saying that when things like this exist.

And I don't know about you, but it sounds like a "manifesting" matter more than a "shifting" matter. You can not say things like that and wash your hands and ignore this like it was some sort of "reality" that has nothing to do with you.

Sometimes, things are just as they are. There's no "shifting" in between.

And here is where I get to the 2nd point.

Pt.2: "You always choose to wake up in this reality"

Shifting is supposed to be as easy as breathing, I get it. But saying this and other things more like: "you're always shifting" is really dangerous, especially for people who suffer from any type of violence or abuse (I'll get there on pt3).

It can cause a lot of damage in people's minds cause "if it is that easy, why can't I do it," or "I really want to go home. Why can't I do it?".

And where do you get that thing of "you're always shifting"? Literally from where? Do you have any proof, or are you just saying it?

I get that you're trying to prove that shifting is real. You're trying to put examples to demonstrate that is easy to shift, but how are you so sure about it?

"If you lost your keys, you unconsciously shift to a reality where you find your keys", "if you die you'll shift to a reality where you're still alive" I even got to hear something like: "every night you die, is just that you don't notice because you shift to another reality where you're still alive" where do you even get this from?

How can you be so disconnected from this reality?, or how you call it in the community, your CR.

I know you say that kind of things to motivate people who wants to try shifting; that you're trying to prove that shifting is easy. But with people who don't have good life, or is not in a good situation right now, it almost sounds like you blaming them for that. And, I repeat, I know you don't have bad intentions by saying that, but those word are like a double-edged knife. (I don't know if that last sentence makes sense, lol) and here is where I'll go to part 3

Pt.3: examples.

I'll go from a little silly examples to more serious matters. They will be 5 examples.

1. Let's say I'm a malice mizer fan. I'm obsessed with Tetsu, and I'm really sad for Kami's death. So I read those type of things and say "why i wasn't born in a reality where Tetsu never left, Kami is still alive and they still active in the band?" So I try and try and don't succeed, so my heart is broken cause I can't meet any of them, and I'll never be able to see the on live. But it was supposed to be easy, right? Then, why?.

2. I'm someone who suffers every day with despersonalization, and the other day, I found a quote that said, "The moment you decided to shift is the moment you stopped belonging to this reality." I tend to be really calm in this situations but it bugged me inside my head for a good time. Now imagine someone who has developed a worse condition than me. What would they do? Is not an exaggeration that they can get ti the point of killing themselves because they would think that suicide is the only way to escape this reality they're trapped in. (No shame to the blogger. I know it was for motivation purposes)

3. Why would I want to be, or stay in a reality where one of my close friends became a drug addiction when we were still kids? He was just 15 back then. Why would I choose to see his state deteriorate every time I saw him? That's not what a real friend does, right? Then why am I staying here?

4. Imagine if someone who suffers from domestic violence or SA read that kinds of quotes. What do you think I'll happen. No one, and listen here, NO ONE should go through that, and much less choose to stay in a reality where they're stuck in this situations.

5. It may be disrespectful to use this as an example, but listen. The genocide going in Palestine isn't something that should not be happening, specially in this day and age, so saying that (the quotes I mentioned in pt2) is like saying that they're willingly choose to be killed and massacred in the most horrible ways possible. Cause, "you shift at all times, every second", what the heck is that?

I'm not twisting your words or taking them out of context. I'm using them in examples of REAL LIFE situations. And you repeating and saying those words over and over again is just antipathyc and so self-centered to the point that you're choosing to ignore everything that's happening in this world.

The point of this post is not to insult you or to make you mad in some way. But to bring awareness to the shifting community to be careful with the things you say. And, yes, I know, and I'm very aware that other people's issues are not yours and you're not in charge of them in any way. It's just so you can have a little bit more touch with the things you say and to be aware of the situations that's happening in this reality and keep your feet on the ground.

And to finish, I'm not shaming any blogs in here nor the shifting community. I'm just bringing up a topic that I haven't seen anyone talking about it.

Thanks for reading. (*´▽｀)v

Bye.(*ゝω･*)

[allthesmutl0vers]

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked. (A Wincest fanfic.) Chapter One

NSFW. 18+. MDNI.

Pairing: Wincest + half-sister.

Summary:

Life was good for y/n Everhart, not perfect, but close to it. She lived the perfect life that Sam and Dean dreamed of their whole lives. Nice house, rich, friends, the white picket fence life. She had friends, not many but the circle she kept was close knit and stuck together. She got bullied for how she dressed and the music she listened to, but she never backed down from a fight, and she never lost one either. 

All of that changes when her mom- her best friend in the world, is brutally murdered. And she is sent away to live with the only living blood-relative she has. 

Her father John Winchester.

A man who came into her life only a couple of times a year, and never stayed. Not only does she know next to nothing about him and what he actually does for work, but she also has no idea that she has two half-brothers, Sam and Dean, who seem a little too close at times. And she’s determined to find out why.

Afterall, all secrets inevitably come to light. And when they do, y/n will have a choice: join in or remain on the outside looking and wanting in. No matter how completely forbidden and entirely fucked it is. 

With two months until her eighteenth birthday, she’s going to have to find some way to pass the time until she is free to leave with her inheritance, and live the rest of her life as far away from them as humanly possible. But will she still want to when the clock runs out? Or will she stay for the love she shouldn’t want?

“You can choose the comfortable, or the meaningful. Choose Wisely.”

Content and Trigger Warnings

Wincest: Sam and Dean are full siblings, and the reader is their half-sister. John is the father of all of them. 

Explicit and on-page sex scenes.

FM, MM, and FMM

Snowballing (Do yourself a favor and Google it, or don’t and be surprised.)

Orgasm Denial and Overstimulation

Extremely Possessive Sam and Dean

On-Page Violence, Gore, and Death

Voyeurism and Exhibitionism

Semi-Public and Public Sex

 Gun Play

Knife Play

Blood Play

Damn, you’re still here?

Read the next line.

Good girl.

Now, start reading.

Chapter One

Y/n

“All packed?” The police officer asks me as I gather my bags by the front door. His smashed-in pug face looks down at me as he leans against the door, and it takes everything in me now to smash it against the doorframe over and over again. 

I take a deep breath and force a smile. “Yup, all done,” I respond. A rumble comes down the long driveway to the home I’ve lived in my entire life. A black four-door Chevy Impala that I see maybe once or twice a year. 

“Looks like your dad is here,” the pug face cop says like it’s not the most obvious thing in the fucking world. He lifts his big body off of the wall with a grunt and leans down to grab my bags. “Let's go,” he instructs as he walks out the door with one of my duffle bags.

I look behind me one last time, soaking in every memory I had here growing up. Outback is the swing set my mom would push me on as a kid. The window by the couch would always squeak when I would sneak out and back in, threatening to wake up my mom when she’d fall asleep downstairs. The stairs where I broke my arm because I thought a cardboard box was a sled on a snowy hill. So many memories are in this house, very few of them with the man who claims to be my dad. None with the two half-brothers I just learned about when John called and told me I was coming to stay with them. 

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, inhaling the sweet smell of lemon and lilies. The smell of home. My home that isn’t mine anymore, not now that mom is dead. I choke back the ball in my throat and force the tears not to fall. I won’t break in front of John, and certainly not in front of… What were their names again? Sean? Derek? Fuck, I don’t remember. Guess I’ll find out soon enough. 

I sigh and walk out the front door, closing it behind me for the last time. I lug my other two bags down the porch while John talks to Pug Face. 

“Let us know if you need anything. You can contact me at the precinct. My number is on the back of the card. Rest assured, we’ll find out who it was, and they will be brought to justice,” Pug Face says, handing John a card.

“Thank you. I’ve heard good things about the work you fellas do here in Graham,” John says as he puts Pug Face’s card in his jacket pocket. John turns to me, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “Hey, kiddo. Ready to roll?” He asks me.

I nod once. “Looks like it,” I respond flatly, throwing my bags in the back seat. Pug Face clears his throat, and I turn to look at him. His face only serves to make me even more angry. Maybe it’s because he’s the one who told me my mom was murdered, or maybe it’s because he was the cop who worked at my school as a security guard and busted me for skipping class to smoke weed under the bleachers. That was a fun conversation with Mom. 

“Be safe, y/n, you’ll be in my prayers. We shouldn’t need you to testify since you weren’t there when the murder occurred, but you’ll have the opportunity to make a victim impact statement at sentencing.” Pug Face tells me as he pulls out the keys to his squad car. 

“Sounds great,” I respond a little more sarcastically than I meant to. 

Pug Face furrows his eyebrows at me, his jaw clenching. “Behave yourself,” he warns. 

I roll my eyes and John reaches his hand out to Pug Face. “Well, we should hit the road. Thank you again, Officer…?” his speaking falters.

“Nolan,” Pug Face reminds him as he shakes John’s hand. “And sure thing. I’ll contact you when we have more details and a suspect in custody.”

John smiles with tight lips and turns to me. “Let's hit the road.”

I climb into the passenger seat of his Impala, close the door, and put on my seatbelt as John starts the engine. In the side mirror, I watch my childhood home grow smaller and smaller before John turns onto the road, and it disappears completely. I sigh and lean back in my seat.

“Are you hungry?” John asks me a little while later. 

I shake my head. “No, I ate before I left,” I respond, keeping my eyes out of the window. 

“Alright, well, we’re not stopping until we get to Spokane, so I figured I’d ask,” he responds flatly. 

My eyebrows lift slightly in annoyance. “Spokane it is.” 

I watch out the window. Meridian turns into WA-162, then I-90 once we get toward Seattle. I don’t mind John that much. He isn’t the type to have pointless conversations just to fill the silence. Instead, he plays music in the car as he drives, old rock and roll, but I don’t mind the music that much either. I know quite a few of the songs that play and silently tap my fingers on my thigh to the beat. 

“Almost there,” John says when we exit the freeway and enter the city of Spokane. “I’m stopping for dinner, you have a preference?” he asks as he turns onto the main street.  

“Anything is fine with me,” I shrug. 

“Pizza?” he asks. 

“I’m pretty sure pizza falls under the anything category,” I retort with a smirk. 

To my surprise, he laughs. “That it does,” he responds, pulls into a Pizza Hut, and puts the car in park. “Do all-meat and supreme fall into that category, too?” he quips. 

I nod once. “That they do,” I smile for the first time all day. I unbuckle and open the door. “I’m coming in, too. I’ve had to pee since Ritzville.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” John asks as he gets out of the car, too, and shuts his door. 

“You said you weren’t stopping until we got to Spokane,” I shrug and open the restaurant door.

“Yeah, well, I would’ve at least pulled over so you could pop a squat,” he chuckles.

I roll my eyes and shake my head. “I’ll remember that,” I respond before leaving him to order and making my way to the bathroom. 

I wash my hands and walk out of the bathroom once I’m done. I look around and find John waiting at a table on his phone. I pull out a seat across from him and sit down. “It’ll be about ten more minutes before it’s done,” he says to me without looking up. 

“Great. I’m going to wait outside. I need a smoke,” I respond, standing back up. 

John looks up from his phone and gives me a questioning look. “Smoke what, exactly?” He asks.

I shrug. “Just my vape. I’ll be by the car.” I tell him, pulling my Geek Bar from my pocket. 

Joh nods once. “Stay by the car,” he instructs me. 

I roll my eyes. He was barely in my life growing up, and now he wants to play the father act. Whatever. “Sure thing,” I tell him before walking back outside.  

I lean against the car; the metal is hot under my t-shirt, but thankfully, the hot sun has started to go down. I take a long drag off my vape and blow the vapor into the evening air. Was it really just twenty-four hours ago that my mom was alive? Where is she now? 

I take another drag from my vape and realize I need something a little stronger. I make sure John isn’t looking and grab my dab pen from the back seat. I turn it on and take a big hit. The smoke burns my lungs and singes my throat, but I welcome the feeling. I blow it out and cough a few times into my elbow. I take another hit, and this time, the smoke doesn’t sting my lungs and throat as much. 

I let out a long breath. My body feels a little lighter, and my thoughts aren’t as loud. Just the kind of relief I need right now. I mean, how else is a girl supposed to deal with her mom dying and suddenly being forced into a side of her family she knew next to nothing about? 

I shove my dab pen into the pocket of my denim shorts when I see John come back out with three pizza boxes and some smaller ones stacked on top. “Let's go,” he says, setting the boxes on top of the car before opening the door, grabbing them again, and getting inside. 

I get back into the passenger side and shut the door. I put my seatbelt back on and take the boxes when John hands them to me to hold. “And don’t think I didn’t smell that when I came out. Next time, try not to be so obvious,” he says, starting the car again. 

“Aye, aye, captain,” I mutter as he pulls back onto the main road. 

A few minutes later, he pulls into a hotel parking lot. The building is dated, but at least it doesn’t look like it’s infested with rats and cockroaches. From the outside, at least. 

“We’re only staying for a night. Is there anything you need for tonight from your bags?” He asks as he parks and turns off the engine. 

“Nope, I can sleep in this,” I respond. We get out, and he grabs the pizza boxes from me.

“Well, if you change your mind, you can come grab what you need. Or, I’m sure Sam or Dean can loan you something for the night.”

Sam and Dean, noted. 

John opens the door to the hotel room and holds it open for me as I walk inside. Sitting at a small table by the window is a man- one of my half-siblings, apparently. He has shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes that match mine and John’s. He smiles at me with the corner of his mouth over his laptop and nods his head once. 

“Where’s Dean?” John asks, setting the pizza boxes on the table.

So this one must be Sam.

“Went to get ice,” Sam answers shortly. “You must be y/n,” he says, turning back to me. He stands up, and holy shit, this mother fucker is tall. “I’m Sam. It’s nice to finally meet you.” Sam says in a friendly voice, offering me his hand to shake. 

“Nice to meet you,” I shake his hand, trying not to sound as awkward as I feel. But at least he didn’t go straight for a hug. 

“Well, dig in. I’m going to take a shower,” John says, grabbing some clothes from a bag and walking into the bathroom. 

Me and Sam each grab a paper plate and open the boxes. I take a slice of all the meat and a piece of garlic bread and sit down across from Sam at the table. 

Sam clears his throat and wipes his hands after swallowing his bite. “So, um, how was the drive?” he asks awkwardly. 

Great, so he’s one for small talk.

I shrug my shoulders and take a drink of my water bottle. “It was fine. John played music the whole way.”

Sam nods and chuckles. “Yeah, Dean does that, too. Sorry, he doesn’t really listen to anything different.”

“It’s fine. Do you listen to anything else?” I ask, trying to keep the conversation going. 

“Yeah, but don’t laugh,” he smiles.

The remark takes me a little aback. “Oh yeah? Try me,” I lift my chin. 

“Celine Dion,” he smirks. I purse my lips, trying not to laugh. I’m not laughing at him. It’s just not what I expected. “I told you not to laugh,” he says as he laughs himself.

I chuckle and shake my head. “I’m not laughing at you, Sam,” I respond, but my laugh makes it a little hard to sound sincere. The dabs I took definitely helped to make me loosen up. “I listen to some different music, too.”

Sam raises his eyebrows, and he leans on the table with his elbows. “Really? Like what?” He asks.

“Don’t laugh,” I warn him with a smirk.

“I would never,” he chuckles teasingly. 

My nose scrunches a little, and I smile. “Taylor Swift,” I admit with a chuckle.

Sam blinks a few times and I watch as he looks me up and down once, probably not believing me from how I dress. I can’t say I blame him. From my makeshift muscle tank from an old and ripped Linkin Park shirt, the studded belt on my denim shorts, my fish-net stockings under my shorts, and my beat-up vans, I probably don’t look like a Taylor Swift fan. 

His eyes land back on mine, and he goes to say something until the door opens behind me. “Hey, Dean,” he greets my other brother. “Dad’s back with y/n,” he says. 

I turn around to look at him, and his green eyes land on mine. Dean looks me up and down once and turns away, putting the ice container on the counter without saying a word. I bite the inside of my cheek.

Well, hello to you, too.

When Dean turns around again, he grabs a plate and takes five slices of pizza before kicking off his shoes and plopping down on one of the beds. “Where’s the remote Sammy?” He asks Sam. 

Sam rolls his eyes. “Wherever you put it would be my guess,” Sam answers him and turns back to me. “Don’t mind him,” he nods his head to Dean. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I mutter and stand up, throwing away my plate in the small trash can by the door. 

Dean scoffs as the bathroom door opens, and John walks back into the room. “Oh, good, I see you met Sam and Dean,” he says, putting his old clothes into a bag. 

“Yup,” I respond flatly, my buzz wearing off. 

“Hardly,” Dean scoffs and turns on the TV he apparently found the remote to. 

John sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Dean, we talked about this,” John says like it’s the millionth time. 

“You talked, I listened,” Dean responds with an annoyed tone of voice. 

John rubs his nose between his eyes like he has a headache. He lifts his head and turns back to me. “You can take my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

“I don’t want to be a bother. I’ll take the couch,” I tell John.

Dean laughs sarcastically. “Then why’d you come?” He asks, finally looking at me. 

“Dean!” John snaps at him. My ears and face get hot. Fuck Dean, fucking asshole. 

I straighten my back and glare at Dean. “Because he told me to come. Can you say the same?” I fire back. 

Dean’s eyes flare, and his jaw ticks. “Fuck you,” he spits back at me. 

“Dean! Enough!” John yells, slamming his bag down to the floor. “For fuck’s sake, enough!” 

“Fuck this shit,” Dean says as he stands up and marches to the trash can right beside me. “Move,” he demands, reaching for the door behind me. 

I roll my eyes and step to the side, allowing him a small path to get through. Dean shoulder-checks me on his way out, pushing me against the wall before he slams the door behind him. 

Fuck you, too.

Author's Note:

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Don't worry, smut is coming! I just wanted to establish the story.

Please help a fellow and new Wincest writer out with a reblog; I would be eternally grateful. 🫶🥹

Chapter Two

[hamliet]

Invincible: Proving the Superhero Genre Invincible

Another story I've watched recently is Invincible. I know it's based on comics, which I'll get around to eventually.

Despite masquerading as a dark deconstruction of the superhero story, the story is actually far more a hopeful coming-of-age story that just happens to don a gory costume. You can tell the writers love superhero comics, and that they aren't deconstructing it out of disdain but instead out of a desire to see what the main principles are.

In other words, it's far more akin to Hunter x Hunter's take on deconstructing shonen or even ASOIAF's spin on fantasy literature (matching the violence too) than it is a cynical, nihilistic tale with intent to ridicule. Love and friendships win the day. It's just complex to navigate them in a world where there has been so much hurt.

I wish Horikoshi had read a little more of this.

The tl;dr is that the world's Number One hero turns out to be working for a planet of alien colonizers who live forever and subjugate other lifeforms because they believe they're saving them. This gets to the heart of a thematic question often asked in the superhero genre but not often well-explored - what does it mean to save someone who doesn't want to be saved? Are there valid reasons to not want to be saved? What even counts as not wanting to be saved, and does perspective alter that? Is it not wanting to be saved for humans to cling to their fragile and short lives and free will when they could lose free will and have no more sickness and pain?

The story explores this through many different aspects and characters--from Eve being genetically engineered, to the boys turned into cyborgs, to Mark finding out his entire life has been a lie, to government bureaucracy running the superhero world. And just because the series affirms free will doesn't mean it's blind to the pitfalls of this, or that it doesn't explore the gray areas in which we live--namely, when to listen to others and obey orders, and when not to.

In addition to free will, the series affirms that one of the top gifts of humanity is love. Love is what wakes up the cyborgs when their emotions have been pried from their brains. Love is something intrinsic that can't be perfectly defined and doesn't listen to logic, yet also isn't purely emotional. It's powerful, and it's a weakness. It can save, but not always. (For example, Mark's love for his dad, the cyborg's love for his boyfriend, etc. But Eve's parents love for her doesn't save).

My favorite episode of the story is the final one in season 1, where Mark's father puts him through an overly literal lesson of the trolley problem and then tries to kill his own son. And then there's that one line:

Omni-Man: Why did you make me do this? You're fighting so you can watch everyone around you die! Think, Mark! You'll outlast every fragile, insignificant being on this planet. You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away! Everyone and everything you know will be gone! What will have after 500 years? Mark: I'd still have you.

Really he has 0 reason to still want his father around at this point. And yet that single line contains so much power about what the series is saying.

Mark shouldn't still love his father, logically speaking. Even emotionally, he's determined to stop his father by any means necessary. But, he chooses to still love him, no matter what that means. Whether he lives or dies. Because whether he dies then or later, in that moment he loves his father. And it's so illogical and against what Omni-Man has been trying to literally beat into his son, yet so real, that it pauses destruction.

It doesn't fix anything. Not by a long shot. Not Mark and his father's relationship, not the world, not the plan of Omni-Man's Space!British Empire. Not Mark himself, as Mark will go on to make some pretty intensely Bad mistakes himself. But it means, in that moment, that a life is spared. And that single life is worth sparing (saving).

(This is how you write an abuser-son redemptive love arc!)

Mark and his parents are well done as characters, complex and flawed. I did wish the show had shown more of the ugly side of Debbie's grief (which they apparently do in the comics). I really would like women to be less sanitized, even if that means they act in despicable ways.

That said, the best female character is undoubtedly Eve. The special that chronicles her origin was brilliantly written--one of the best hours of TV I've watched. It's poignant and , despite being horror scifi cyberpunk in some ways, also realistic in how it portrays humanity. I appreciated that her adoptive parents were extremely complex for background characters. They desperately wanted a child, but not necessarily her. Her mom loves her, but still wishes she was someone else, and her father is just a bad dad. Of course, this is underscored by the fact that she's not their biological daughter, but I don't know that it would have been different if she was.

Plus, Eve and Mark are a great couple, though they take a bit too long to get together.

On that note, I also liked Amber as a character, but I thought the writing kind of didn't know what to do with Mark and Amber at times. Clearly they wanted this relationship to demonstrate the struggles of Mark trying to balance being a superhero with a normal high school life, but the writers were actually a bit too harsh on Mark at times. (I know, right?) I thought the main conflict between them in season 1 (about his identity) was unfairly framed as only Mark's fault when it wasn't, and it wasn't resolved in a satisfactory way.

Ultimately, though, the story is about humanity and all its ways of attempting to create superhumans. Science. Religion. Aliens. Living forever. Strength. Cyborgs. But what it affirms is that there is so much that is beautiful about humanity, and what transcends humanity are the traits we all can have--love and free will.

[klbwriting]

Broken Prism

Chapter 14

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Toddxfemale!Reader

Warnings: some violence

Summary: Jason wakes up

Notes: so I got another pretty nasty anon ask about this story, I deleted it because I didn't want that kind of negativity again, but I want to thank all of you who have liked, replied, or reblogged this fic and I hope you continue to enjoy it!

Jason woke up to the familiar sight of his room at the League of Assassins stronghold. He sat up and stretched, feeling bones creak and muscles relax after a night on the uncomfortable cot. He grabbed his clothes and dressed, going to find Ras for his assignment. He greeted no one as he walked to the head’s office, and no one greeted him. In fact, he noticed that anyone he passed he immediately forgot their face as he went. This was strange but he ignored that and knocked on the door. Ras called him in and gave him a list of targets in Gotham City. Jason nodded and bowed before leaving and getting on the private jet of the League.

Upon arrival he looked at the first names on the list. Catherine and Willis Todd. Those names were familiar, but he ignored that and went to the address listed. It was just an apartment, they were already in the living room, sitting on the couch watching TV. When he came in they didn’t say anything, the woman looked almost dead already, eyes gazing unfocused at the screen and the man just grunted. He was confused. They didn’t have any crimes he knew of, and the woman had his eyes. He heard Ras’s voice telling him that he needed to kill them, for him. They held him back. But they were his parents. He ignored this thought and shot the woman in the heart, the man in the head, placing the revolver he used in the man’s hand. Murder suicide, easy to cover up. Jason left the way he came in, forgetting about them as soon as he was on the street again. Strange.

The second pair of names sparked more recognition, Tim Drake and Dick Grayson. His…brothers? Well, no not brothers. Dick had forgotten him, and Tim replaced him. Not brothers, traitors. He could feel Ras urging him on as he approached Wayne mansion. He had the key and walked in, going into a familiar living room. Tim and Drake were on the couch waiting, TV on. This time the TV was big enough to see what they were watching. Some action movie with fake Batman, Nightwing, and Robin, they were fighting someone in a red helmet. Stupid. Jason looked at them, choosing this time to just shoot them both in the heart. Once that was done, he looked at the list again. Last name. Bruce Wayne.

He headed down to the Batcave, finding the playboy sitting at the large computer, watching something playing on the screen. It was like a home movie, on the grounds of Wayne manor, the basketball court. Bruce held a ball and was showing a younger Jason, around maybe 12, how to shoot it properly. Jason watched, not sure where the tears had come from, but they were rolling down his cheeks. Ras’s voice told him to stop that crying, that Bruce Wayne wasn’t his father, he had to kill him. He was a pretender, not a protector. Jason pushed all the warmth out of himself, walking up behind Bruce.

“You’ll always be my son Jason,” he heard the man murmur before Jason cut his throat. He turned and came face to face with the Joker, pulling off a Ras Al’Ghul mask.

“Didn’t think I would let you get away that easy did you little Jaybird?” he said before laughing. Jason covered his ears, that sound like an ice pick to his brain. Joker calmed after a time and held up the target list. “One more name.” YN, who was that? Jason took the list and Joker pointed to a door. Jason walked over and opened it.

She sat on her bed, reading a book called The Red Hood’s Soul. It made him sick to see that. Why would she care about his soul? Why would anyone care about him? She looked up and smiled at him, standing and moving towards him. He walked over, dagger ready. She saw it but didn’t stop smiling.

“Jason,” she said, and he stopped right in front of her. “I lov…” He felt a hand on his, the dagger sticking out of her chest, the hand holding his belonging to Joker.

“You just have to kill everyone you love before they can love you back don’t ya? Me too” the clown said before laughing.

“No…nonononononoNONONONO” Jason was screaming, looking at YN still standing there, still smiling at blood poured out of her.

“Jason, JASON!” he heard yelling and sat up, eyes suddenly open as the real world closed it. He was in a nice room, he old room at Wayne manor. He was soaked in sweat, shirtless, and surrounded. He growled and shoved away the person holding him, jumping up and off the bed, getting into a fighting stance before his mind cleared. Alfred was helping YN off the floor, Bruce, Dick, and Tim were watching him, even Barbara was there behind them. It had been a long time since he had seen her. She wasn’t in a wheelchair then. He shook himself.

“What am I doing here?” he asked, looking around. The others looked to YN and Jason did too, finally realizing he had shoved her to the ground. “YN? I’m, I’m sorry…” She looked like she had been crying, face red and eyes puffy. “Did I hurt you?” O God, what had he done.

“Jason I’m fine,” she said. She scrambled over the bed and threw herself into his arms, hugging him tight. Something in him broke at that moment and he knew he didn’t want anything like what that dream to actually happen. He wanted family again, desperately. He wanted YN, desperately. Why had he pushing that away? YN led him to the bed and motioned for him to sit. “Do you remember what happened?” He blinked a few times, trying to clear the cobwebs.

You had Jason sitting on the bed, you were still holding his hand, watching him trying to process what the last 24 hours. You had watched him the entire time he had been unconscious, sleeping bent over his chest, just making sure his heart was still beating. It had been terrifying, you were waiting for the gray to seep in, the only comfort you got was still seeing the color of his skin, his hair, his helmet as it sat on the side table. While he was under you had talked to Bruce who was a wreck.

“Its like I was too late again,” he said, sitting in a chair on the other side of the bed. “That night, when Joker…and Jason…I hadn’t felt grief like that since my parents died. What in your mind tells you that you should stay with him? I know he’s your soulmate, but you don’t have to be together, you could run. You wouldn’t be the first.” In that moment you realized that Bruce had found his soulmate, and they hadn’t stayed around. “How do you possibly deal with this kind of life?”

“Because I know what its like not having him in it, why see color when the person who sees it the same way as you isn’t there?” she said. “I’m sorry, about whoever they were, no everyone can handle this, but I assure you I can. I may not be Barbara or Bernard, I don’t have super smarts or martial arts training, but I’m not afraid to knife someone or shot them. I’m not a vigilante, but I’m enough for him, I hope, because he is more than enough for me, and I won’t let that go. I won’t let him go.”

“I don’t like what he’s become,” Bruce said. “I hate that he didn’t become more like me.”

“Well, honestly, what did you expect? You let Joker live, which I am angry at you about, and he’s your son, not you. You want a carbon copy of you, well you’ll have to get married, have a biological kid, go to a theater and let yourself get murdered when he is 10, and even then, that kid might go the opposite way and become another Joker,” you said. Bruce stared at you, and you were worried he was going to kick you out but then he actually laughed.

“God I am fucked up, aren’t I?” he said softly, more to himself. You just nodded. “When he wakes up do you think he will talk to me, a real talk?”

“Maybe, but you’re going to have to go easy on him for killing Ivy,” you said. Bruce nodded and looked at Jason and you saw in his face how much he was conflicted. He clearly loved Jason but was trying to come to terms with who he was now. You now hoped with Jason awake that they could work things out for the better.

“…and then I remember passing out in the back of the car,” Jason said, finishing explaining the incident with Ivy. Everyone looked from you to him, and you dared them to say anything about him killing Ivy at the moment. If they did, he would feel attacked at his weakest and bolt, they all knew that. Tim opened his mouth and Dick put his hand over it.

“You scared the shit out of us little bird,” Dick said. “Alfred said you need to rest for another day or two, you willing to do that here?” Jason was silent for a long time, then he looked at you as if asking your opinion. You smiled and nodded.

“Ya, I’ll stay here,” he said. “It’ll be weird though. And she has to be here too.” He nodded his head at you.

“What makes you think I want to stay here?” you asked, that little bit of anger you had at his disappearing act rearing up. He looked at you and swallowed.

“Perhaps we should allow Master Jason to get some rest and quality time with Miss YN,” Alfred said, shuffling everyone else out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Look, I know I fucked up by just vanishing but let me explain,” he said. You opened your mouth to argue, and he held a finger to your lips. “Please.” It was almost pleading so you took a breath and nodded.

“Alright, talk,” you said. He took your hands in his, staring at them like he couldn’t look you in the eye. You gently took his chin and made him look at you. He swallowed hard.

“After that night I went to fuck up a bank job Two-Face was doing. He had Joker with him. I heard that laugh, it still haunts me to this day, and I panicked, full blown attack that had me running to my parents’ apartment, Bruce bought it after they died for a safe house, anyway, and I was there for days, just spiraling. How could I face you? How could you expect me to be anything good for you, to you, when I can’t even be good for myself?” he said. You sighed and took his face in your hands.

“Jason, I’m recommending this with all the soulmate love I have in my heart for you, get therapy,” you said. “Listen, your family, in this house all have a therapist, ask them, get one, and then use them. And this may not be something you want to hear, but talk to Bruce, iron things out with him and Dick and even Tim.” He stared like he couldn’t believe you were saying this.

“Why?” he asked softly. “I only hurt them, I only hurt you.”

“Bullshit, everyone here loves you, you running away is what hurts. You need this family and they need you. I’m not even part of this family and I can see that,” you said. Jason shook his head.

“No, if I’m going to be part of it you are too, you’re my family most of all,” he said. You smiled and leaned to him, hugging him tight. He gripped you for dear life and breathed in your scent, letting it calm him.

“Now, I think you should lay down again and get some more rest,” you said, gently pushing him back to lay down. Jason relented, sliding under the covers before lifting them up. If he was going to rest he needed you with him. You smiled and climbed in, rolling so that your back pressed against his front.

“I missed you,” he said softly, voice already shrouded in sleep.

“I saved where you were in your book,” you answered. You felt him chuckle behind you.

“Thanks,” he slurred out before falling into sleep. You listened to his even breathing, feeling his arm around your waist, your body heat mingling with his until you too fell asleep.

[quill-pen]

A Red Sunrise; A Timeless Scroogeverse Tale

Summary: Bess and Wolf awake to a rather unwelcome surprise.

Warnings: Periods and period blood, mention of past abuse, brief mention of witnessing past violence

Many women would have considered Bess fortunate. For one thing, there was the whole being-exclusively-involved-with-a-filthy-rich-man-who-adored-you-thing. For another, she had many close friends that were more like family who would gladly do and give anything for her, and she would gladly do the same in return. But arguably the one thing that most women would probably consider Bess most fortunate for was the fact of her womanly cycle. When you only ever, at most, had three periods in a year and oftentimes didn't even have that many, it was hardly a surprise that most other women would consider that the most fortunate thing in your life.

Bess could see their point and understand their reasoning, truly, but she didn't at all agree. Hardly having a period more than three times a year brought its own annoyances and hardships. Not to mention that it was a side effect of her past trauma and, thus, a constant reminder of both said trauma and the fact that it had stolen her chance at future motherhood from her. Those facts, and the thoughts and feelings they generated, only ever made the typical mood swings that came with periods worse. And of course there was the overall fact that Bess' periods, in an apparent attempt to make up for the fact that they were few and far between, always came at random and very inopportune times, lasted about two weeks, and made said weeks an absolute living nightmare in terms of the typical symptoms.

The fact Bess could never prepare for the onslaughts was probably the worst part. Sometimes her body warned her in advance with sudden changes in mood and appetite, cramping, headaches, the typical telltale signs. Other times, like this morning, she simply awoke to a violent murder scene in her pajama pants that had unfortunately soaked through to the sheets. And even more unfortunately, they weren't even her sheets on her bed, as she and Wolf had reached the milestone of staying over at each other's places for a weekend.

Yet, somehow, bleeding through in a bed that wasn't hers that wasn't the worst. As Bess had been snuggled into Wolf and using his chest as a pillow, she'd had a leg hiked up over his his to slot next to the man more comfortably. Thus a rather large bloodstain had spread over the man's hip and thigh as well

Bess quickly backed away from the sleeping Englishman, tears immediately welling up in her eyes and spilled over her cheeks. Completely unable to rein in her emotions and stop them for the moment, the woman began sobbing. She helplessly threw herself into a pillow and wailed. She felt humiliated, horrified, and yet, at the same time, completely, rage-inducingly unsurprised. Of course, her body would choose to betray her with no warning on her first weekend staying over at her boyfriend's! Why wouldn't it?! When had it ever granted her any favors?

Roused by both her movements and cries, Wolf stirred and stretched out a hand, groping around for the woman he'd fallen asleep snuggled up with. "Hmm-Bess?" His hand made contact with a rather wet and warm patch as it passed over the sheets. The man paused, probing at the strange area, the cogs in his sleep-addled mind slowly beginning to turn and move. That wasn't a typical thing to feel in one's bed. Neither was hearing your sweetheart crying a typical sound to wake to.

Wolf opened his eyes, his bleary gaze first landing on Bess curled up and crying all the way on the other side of his large mattress. He shot up onto his elbow, instantly alarmed. "Brightness, what-" he stopped as he suddenly saw the dark, reddish stain stretched down the insides of her pantlegs. Then he noticed the large, bloody blotches trailing across the mattress towards him, and finally the stain on his own pants.

Memories of finding old Marley stabbed, brutalized, and covered in blood slammed into the forefront of Wolf's mind. Instinct kicked in: The billionaire scrambled out of bed in a panic. "Bloody fuck!" Still not fully awake and processing things as he normally would, Wolf ripped off his pajama bottoms and quickly inspected his crotch and thigh. Where was he bleeding?! How was he bleeding?! Why was he bleeding so badly for Bess to become bathed in a pool of his blood?! Or had something happened to Bess that she was hurt too?! It was a few half-asleep moments before the man's brain began to really wake up and realize what was actually going on.

As the truth dawned, relief washed over the philanthropist. It was quickly replaced with sympathy, as he turned his attention toward Bess, still curled up and hiding in the pillows. Grabbing his dressing gown from the foot of the bed, Wolf quickly covered himself and went to his girlfriend. "Oh, my moonlight."

"I'm sorry!" Bess bawled into her pillow as his hand gently gripped her shoulder. "I'm so sorry for making a mess! I'm sorry, Wolf! I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to--I'm sorry!"

The man gently scooped the woman up and cradled her against him; the idea of getting bloody again wasn't even a thought in his mind. "Shh, Brightness," he hushed her. "I know. It was an accident--I know. Shhhh." He stroked her hair as he rocked her.

Bess clung to his, balling his robe into white-knuckled fists. "I-I didn't know! I swear I didn't know my period was-I didn't feel any warnings! I didn't mean to bleed all over your bed, Ebenezar--I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"Shhh-of course you didn't, Bess--I know that. You just had a little accident, that's all. These things happen; it's nothing to be upset over."

The pair sat curled together for a long while before Bess finally started to quiet and calm down. When the tears and sniffles had stopped altogether, she slowly pulled away from Wolf's chest and took better stock of her bloody wake. The woman hung her head and moaned with shame. "I'm so, so, so sorry, Moonsong," she lamented again.

Wolf hugged her more tightly to his chest and kissed her crown. "It wasn't something you could help," he cooed soothingly. "It will wash out, and even if it doesn't, everything is easily replaceable."

Bess buried her red-hot face in her hands. "I just... I can't believe I bled all over you and your bed during my first stayover! We went to bed perfectly fine and now it looks like fricking Jaws came up in here and had a feeding frenzy! I'm so embarrassed!"

"You have no reason to feel ashamed, Bess. There is no shame whatsoever in this; it's simply nature."

"Ill-timed nature."

Wolf chuckled. "That's true, I'll admit. Reminds me of how I passed gas during our very first necking session."

Bess snorted into her hands. "I tried to warn you off Josie's cheesy green beans," she reminded him.

"Greasy, cheesy green beans," Wolf muttered with some disgust.

Bess smirked up at him. "Well, duh. That's why I tried to warn you."

Wolf laughed and pressed a lingering kiss to his sweetheart's cheek.

Bess basked in the affection as she giggled at the rather smelly memory. "So..." she sighed after a moment, looking back at the mess, "... this... doesn't bother you? It doesn't... gross you out?"

Wolf cast his eyes over the scene again. "I'm not thrilled about it, I admit," he answered. "Not anymore than you are. I don't think blood in the sheets is what any person wants to wake up to. But it's nothing to make a stink over. As I said, accidents happen." He gave the woman an empathetic look. "Did it bother Oliver?" he inquired softly.

Bess smiled sadly. He knew her so well. "Yeah," she croaked with a sniff. "He'd get so disgusted at just the mention of menstrual stuff he'd gag. Forget asking him to run to the store to grab some pads in an emergency. Luckily, by the time we were together, my cycle was like it is now, so we didn't deal with it all that often. Mama was worse about it. My first cycle happened a lot like this. As if I wasn't already freaking out enough that I was bleeding between my legs, Mama made it worse by throwing a huge fit and switching me. George was away for work at the time so, he couldn't defend me."

Wolf was sure his heart had shattered into pieces at those words. Reaching up, with both hands, he cupped Bess' face between them and stroked the remaining tears from her freckled cheeks with soft thumbs. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that, Moonlight," he rasped. "That must have been so terrible for you."

Bess shrugged. "Sure wasn't fun, anyway."

Wolf gave her a little smile before leaning in to gently kiss the woman. "Why don't you hop in a long shower?" he quietly suggested when they pulled apart. "I'll get the bed cleaned up and order in some breakfast."

Bess blinked in shock. He was going to clean up after her? And then order breakfast in rather than having her make it? "Are... are you sure?" she asked, voice quiet in her dumbfoundedness.

The man simply smiled. "Unless you'd rather I make breakfast? I should warn you, I can't guarantee the quality of the food, if that's the case, but it will at the very least be edible."

"No, no, that's not what I meant--I just... I can make breakfast, Wolf. I can take care of the bed too--it is my mess after all."

Wolf laughed and shook his head. "Nonsense! The truth of the matter is, my beautiful girl, this weekend has just turned into an exclusive pampering session for you, whether you like it or not. Anything you want and need is yours. I am at your beck and call. The world is your oyster!" He swooped back in to give the Yankee another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. And when he pulled back again, he pecked another to her nose. "Now, I'll hear no more dissent. Into the shower with you, Ms. Sullivan, before you dot another 'i'. Leave your pajamas outside the door and I'll take care of everything."

Before the woman had a chance to protest again, the Englishman stood, took her by the hands, and pulled her out of bed as well. Wrapping an arm around her, Wolf led Bess in the direction of the bathroom. "You should find what you need in the bottom cupboard closest to the toilet," he informed her.

Bess looked up at him in surprise. "What I need?" she echoed him. "You mean-"

"Feminine hygiene products, yes," Wolf answered with a smile. "I'm fairly certain I have one of everything in there."

"But... what are you doing with all that stuff?"

"What if I told you I collect such things?"

"Wolf, honestly."

"I have a niece-in-law that likes to visit, Brightness. You and the girls have swung by often enough since we came into each other's lives, and I also have a regular maid. It made sense to have things by the way in case of an emergency. Sammy has the same setup at his place."

Bess was quiet as she stared at the tall, steely-haired gentleman in wonder. Then she stepped into him, went up on tiptoe, and pressed her mouth against his once again, looping her arms around his neck to coax him closer. She melted into him when he coiled his arms around her waist. "You are a spectacular, wonderful, amazing man, Ebenezar Charles Scrooge," she whispered against his lips as she gazed up into his hooded eyes. "I love you."

The man smiled warmly, his already gentle eyes softening to a heartbreaking degree as he let his head fall so his brow bumped into hers. "I love you too, Elizabeth Felicity Sullivan," he whispered back. Pulling her even closer in his arms, he kissed the beautiful, coal-haired American again.

@rom-e-o Been a little while since I did a short, sweet thing for them.🤗

[i5hiez]

WARNING: mature themes ahead such as yandere!behavior, mentions of murder, violence as well as supernatural beings. I do not condone any of the actions below nor do I believe that they should be portrayed in real life

Welcome to my account! To get you started, here is a list of my OCs or original characters! I will be writing about them often in the future:>

k lets begin !~

Lukas: Yan!Killer

• probably dutch or german(haven't decided which yet) which you can definitely tell by his towering build. Lukas is a 6'7 foot man who lurks the woods near the countryside, his terrible past has led him to become who he is now, a merciless killing machine!

• unlike other serial killers, he keeps a low profile to avoid raising suspicion and definitely not because the cops are scared of him or anything!

• luckily he's got a friend who's just fit for the job :D who is definitely not...vegan is all I can say

• both made it seem like there's some type of animal that would prey on unknowing campers and that there was nothing authorities could do but to put up warning signs about an aggressive animal roaming the forest at night to prevent more deaths.

• but what could the police do when some people choose to be ignorant and go anyways? that brings us to the present. You were a sweaty mess, every part of your body was itching, all four limbs fatigued and is overall just downright exhausted.

• you were angry, so angry that tears fell down from your cheeks

• your friend who was leading the way suddenly disappeared from your sight and now you're all alone, hungry and a sobbing mess. It started to dawn on you how you walked into such a dangerous situation. but then maybe it was fate?

• suddenly you hear a twig snap and a few leaves crinkling.

• your sob turned into a wail as it got closer, this is it you're done for! you were going to die here!

• happy memories flooded your mind as you recalled when you were anywhere but here

• so imagine your surprise when you realize that instead of bringing you to your demise, you wake up to what looked like a living room, tied to a chair with a gag on your mouth.

• this "animal" that had been terrorizing the woods turned out to be human!

• "I coudn't help it schatz, you would do the same if you saw that adorable crying face of yours!" Lukas said with a thick accent. He laughs and stops for a while,

• "Again," you furrowed your brows.

• "I want to see it again."

Vlada: Mother Fursona

• standing at 5'5, for a woman in her late 40s, Vlada looked like she hasn't aged at all

• Vlada is a well known and respected woman in your community, someone who always offered help to absolutely anyone who would need it. Her aura was very motherly and she always exuded this loving and warm vibe around her, there really was nothing to hate about Vlada.

• some people say she'd lost her two kids and husband in a fire while others claim that she fled from her abusive husband but nobody really knows where she came from, all they know is that she was a social worker from Austria who decided to retire at your small town which was quite far from civilization.

• the place was pretty remote and everywhere you looked was full of trees, nonetheless it was quiet and peaceful. Everyone got along and you could understand why someone like her would decide to settle down here.

• until one night, an unfortunate event befell your town. A family of six was brutally murdered and it seemed that whoever it was that broke in was not human at all.

• immediately as if Vlada was expecting this, she ushered every single folk to rush down a very huge bunker under her home that surprisingly was big enough to fit all of the town's populace.

• everyone was there except you who had no idea of the events unfolding, you were woken up by a loud growling coming from outside, with shaking hands you carefully moved your curtains to the side to take a peek at the commotion.

• lo and behold there was Vlada facing a huge creature, back turned against you so you really couldn't see well of it's features.

• you panicked and was about to run and save her when suddenly as if a switch was flipped, the warm, loving and caring Vlada vanished and transformed into what looked like an enormous wolf!

Chico: Yan!Soldier

• don't know how tall yet but one thing's for sure, this dude is definitely buff.

• growing up and being surrounded by constant war between the people, government and rebels does something to you

• which was why Chico joined the military, there he had been taught to protect his country and fellow countrymen and also...to spy on people

• Chico is an excellent sniper, he constantly gets deported and did not have any social life because of this.

• of course he was aware of the life he had to live before enlisting but he didn't know that it was going to be this hard.

• Chico isn't one to make small talk, he didn't have anyone he could call his friends.

• sure there were his comrades but since he's got a nice reputation, some grew envious of him. sometimes he feels that his colleagues are ganging up on him.

• Chico, despite having been accustomed to being alone, had always yearned for someone, anyone that could fill the empty void in his heart.

• eventually it did come on that fated day at their base.

• you and your team were imports sent by Chico's government as medical aid for this mission, you were made aware that it was a very dangerous job but how could you say no when you were going to be generously compensated for?

• "What could go wrong?" You thought, there was going to be soldiers, best of the best, that'll be constantly around you, and it has just recently come to your knowledge that the warzone was a few hundred meters from where you were staying.

• unbeknownst to you, a certain soldier has got the hots for you and with the things he was capable of doing, he is yet to prove you wrong.

[dreamtydraw]

*Inhale* SO I REPLAYED SAGE'S ROUTE

Like we all do because tears are still rolling

And i came up with an hc of what the bad end could have been based on one dialogue option in particular and other preiously référenced event.

I'm talking about this option wich is the last one offered where you are in a group setting, right before heading to kill LoS.

(before reading further reminder this is just an hc and english is not my first language )

Ok so why did i focused on this dialogue option ? Well because we know the game is full of foreshadowing and i like over analizing stuff wich made me compare the two options in details. See, if you choose the drink option, not only you have almost everyone interact, but it's on a note of a brighter futur. ( i only screend first dialogues but anisa, tusli, felix and elowen talk )

this contrast with the nap option who only have Elowen talking outside of sage ( worth mentioning elowen is the only one going with you two in the castle )

The tone diferences is visible, in one hand you have a happy and cheerful group discussion, in the other hand you have what in first reading is just a joke but may sound like a real possible worry ( mainly if you associate long nap as death )

"so what is your theorie then ?" you may ask, well hear me out on that one !

We know the bad end are foreshadowed in the bad end poster of the intro + the description read in sage route when we go back to the fan expo.

Mike / LoS / ugly wizzard, clearly created the storie to end with the main 3 being antagonist. In his head he wants them to be vilains in his upcoming game so his goal is to make them range in his rank.

We can then theorise that he wants sage as a beast, sort of like a monster for a boss level ( since in the hand od Mike, this is a video game where he is the most powerful vilain )

So how would he obtain it ?

Sage wants to kill him and if he was in beast form why would he obey him ? Well what does Sage spend all his route doing from his very first introduction ? What is one of his main goal trought the storie ( outside of letting go, and accepting help )

Protecting mc. Sage always did his best to protect mc even when they didn't knew each other in the tavern. Sage spend his time trying to protect mc from danger, from himself or from whatever could harm them.

This is why i theorise that Sage will still protect mc no matter what, wich include even in his bad end.

My theorie is that in the bad end, both MC and Sage overdue during the fight ( because of the lack of support from the other if you kept choosing options about violence, guilt, individuality and only counting on each other ) this lead to Sage using his beast form, being stuck in it incapable of going back, and mc entering a sort of coma. Why a coma would you ask ?

Well the nap option could be a foreshadowing of mc being here physicaly but absent ( sleeping, so in a sort of coma ) trapped in their mind like the other where after the fog first appeared. "what about the astroblade ?" well it was told that relics may overwhork their owner, we know they can even break ( like sage's zenith ) so it"s a possibility that the Astroblade would be too draining ( helping on Mc falling asleep or making them feel tired, hinted by ugly wizzard man in the breakfast scene in chap 11 ) and to "save mc" put them in a state of sleep rather than death.

This would give a reason for why sage could end up not killing LoS. In exchange of waking them up ( probably a lie or would take forever ) Sage would need to work for him. This is an offer that he can't refuse, Sage would stay with mc no matter what

( dialogue given by elowen last moment we see her before the big fight )

If you want more of my "why i think it would go that way" trow back to that one star scene where Rime offer both mc and Sage a deal wich is basicaly "turn into a beast and i'll teach them how to handle you". This would work well in paralel to the deal LoS could offer to sage "Turn into a best for them and i'll handle you for their sake".

Anyway if you read that far i would love to have your opinions on my hc because i can"t be alone with that thought, i need to talk about it with other.

Have a nice day _(┐「ε:)_

[thesightstoshowyou]

~ Three, Two, One…. ~

Lochlan (lok-lin) Smith

A Sight’s Slasher OC

“My friends call me ‘Lok.’ You will call me that too.” Dumbly, you nod, quickly stilling when you realize what you’re doing.

Age: 29

Pronouns: He/him

Location: East Coast

Language: English

Sexuality: Bisexual

Profession: Job-hopper. Whatever pays the bills and funds his “hobby”

Slasher type: Self-aware sadist

Weapon of choice: Anything and everything

Skills: Persuasion, hypnosis, stealth, blending in, silver tongue

(Warnings below: Mentions of violence, suicide, hypnosis, murder, gore, torture, noncon, and supernatural elements)

🕜 Appearance:

Height: 6’0

Weight: ~180lbs

Hair: Copper red, short on the sides, longer on top

Eye color: Green

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Notable traits: His hair and piercing gaze

Body type: Athletic

🕥 Personality:

Lochlan is a chameleon. He will adjust his personality to compliment those with whom he interacts. He can be charming, funny, quiet, boisterous, or whatever you need to feel comfortable. He can blend seamlessly into any group or situation and he always has something clever to say.

Lok knows his name is silly. He doesn’t care. In fact, he kind of likes it. It makes him seem less threatening. Go ahead, crack a joke about it. He’ll laugh with you. You’ll let your guard down. Now, he has a way in.

Lok is much different in private. He’s a condescending bastard with a god complex. He is a true sadist; he never feels more pleasure than when he’s hurting someone. To Lok, people are things to mould and destroy as he chooses.

🕚 Method:

Lok loves to people watch. He’ll search a crowd and single out someone who looks impressionable. The more susceptible you are to hypnotism, the easier it is for him to talk you into a trance.

He’ll follow you for a few days, when he has the time. He’ll learn your schedule, formulate a plan, find an opening.

Next, he’ll put himself in your path. Maybe he stands behind you in line for coffee. “I noticed your pin. I love that band! What’s your favorite song?” Isn’t it a coincidence it’s his favorite song too? And what are the odds he has the exact same coffee order as you?

When Lok speaks, you find yourself almost compelled to listen. When your eyes meet his, your mind becomes just a little fuzzier. You can’t help but relax, letting the sound of his voice fill your head. His words are so calming. What’s that, he wants you to follow him? Yeah, that sounds nice. His car? Yes, you’ll get in. You are feeling pretty sleepy, after all. It will be nice to sit down.

When you wake, you’ll find yourself restrained in a small room. The walls will be littered with tools and other evil implements. You won’t know how or why you’re here.

This is the extent of Lok’s planning.

Now, he can chase whatever ideas come to him in the moment. Should he rip out all your teeth? Break your fingers? Carve away flesh? Dissect you and fuck the wounds? He’ll figure it out as he goes and he’ll do whatever makes you scream the loudest.

However, his favorite past time is playing with your mind.

🕣 Background and Hypnosis:

Lok has always been persuasive, even as a child. It seemed as though—if he concentrated hard enough—he could talk his classmates into doing things they would never normally do. Once, he convinced the kid bullying Lok about his hair to stick his finger in the pencil sharpener and crank the lever.

A year later, at 8 years old, he would convince his mother’s boyfriend to blow his brains out all over the bathroom walls. Technically, this was his first victim, but he wouldn’t kill someone with his own hands until he was 17.

When Lok was 12, his mother took him to a family event downtown. It was some kind of fair organized by the local businesses. Because it was free, they could go, he remembers her saying.

There was a magician. Lok remembers the stupid card trick he’d flubbed. None of the other kids noticed.

Next up was a hypnotist. Lok assumed it would be another fool in a cape, but this man proved him wrong. He was self-assured, smooth, and practiced. When he counted backwards and placed audience volunteers under his spell, Lok’s eyes grew wide in astonishment. The man made them cluck like chickens and pretend to bob for apples! He could make them do whatever he wanted….

Curiosity turned to obsession. Lok spent months at the library, studying different hypnosis techniques and reading testimonials. Hypnotherapy piqued his interest in particular. Imagine what things he could learn from someone in a trance, things he could hold over then once they were lucid.

As Lok grew, so did his skill. Using hypnosis, he could force victims to say and do things no other hypnotist in history could manage. To Lok, this meant he was a prodigy, a genius, far superior to the average man.

But, unknown to even Lok himself, there is an explanation for his unnatural talent.

Lok possess an inkling of supernatural ability. An inhuman ancestor, long ago, passed down abilities through the bloodline. After hundreds of years, only small traces remain. In Lok, this manifests as persuasive skill beyond the realm of natural human ability.

“You’ll like it, when I bring you down. All the way down. But when you come back, I’ll be waiting right here. And I make consciousness hurt.”

~~

(Read my first fic starring Lok here)

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Field of Marigolds

Summary: Marc has been having bad dreams and Jake has been depressed. Can Steven find out why? Can he find a solution that won’t leave them all in deeper trouble? Steven asks questions about a culture that they all lost. 

Warnings: Some depictions of child abuse/violence and panic attacks. 

Word Count:  4714

Word Prompt:   Reeds

-------

Golden. Quiet. Alone. 

Marc had many dreams about the field of reeds since returning from Cairo. None of them good. A nightmare of being left alone for all eternity. 

He would wake feeling despair as he crawled from the darkness, gasping out Steven’s name. There was always that moment of silence when he waited for Steven to wake up and respond. That moment of pure fear that perhaps this time he would be alone. 

Then he would get the tired sounds of Steven mumbling his hello. The relief would wash over him and he would sink back into the bed with a heavy sigh. 

When Jake made himself known and started to communicate with them, Marc had started to look back on his life and pick out the times when his memory gaps were most likely occupied by the quiet and over protective alter. Their memories were all still a mess, but some pieces were starting to at least make sense. 

On mornings when he woke up in a panic, he would always still reach for Steven. The one that had always been there when he needed comfort, but sometimes he would wait to see if Jake might reach back too. 

Fall had settled in and items of warmth and comfort were starting to make themselves more prominent in their flat. Steven insisted on filling his closet with oversized sweaters covered in patterns and colors that made Marc gag. Jake had switched out his lighter coat and gloves for something more solid and sustaining while Marc kept his usual attire, choosing to brave the cold and rain as he did everything else: Ignore it. 

They were getting used to one another. Arguments about what to wear or how to style their hair cropped up but usually were quickly settled. Sometimes they argued over food or what to drink. In the span of a few months they had only had a couple of full melt downs where Layla had been forced to step in and break things up before someone did something stupid. 

As fall carried on, Marc had noticed Jake becoming more agitated. He was quiet and clipped when spoken to. He shut them off when he fronted and sometimes Marc or Steven would front to find themselves in the middle of a park or somewhere random in the rain when Jake had decided he was done. 

“What the hell is seasonal affective disorder?” Marc huffed as he pulled off the gloves and shoved them into his pockets. It was the second time in so many days where he had come to the front in the city. He had found himself staring in at a bakery window with brightly colored rolls with swirls and lines on the top. 

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Steven chimed in from the window reflection. “The sun starts to go away and you get depressed. Maybe he needs more vitamins or one of those special sun lights?” 

“I doubt very much that Jake is affected by the lack of sun. The man works the nightshift for crying out loud.” Marc adjusted the cap and wished he were wearing his cubs hat. It had a better brim for keeping the rain out of his face. 

Steven shrugged and glanced inside the bakery, trying to figure out what had made Jake decide to run. “Wouldn’t mind a sweet myself, since we’re here.” 

“Not sure it’s vegan, buddy.” Marc checked his pockets for his wallet and keys. It was always so jarring to be left out in the cold by Jake. He never knew what he had on him or if he was supposed to go find the car or not. 

“Maybe Layla would like a sweet.” Steven smiled. “Those look real good. And colorful!” 

Marc sighed and went inside. Steven knew how to get Marc to do things he would normally scoff at. Steven loved grand gestures and buying Layla silly things that made her smile. 

Marc paused in the doorway and looked around. It was a foreign shop, which wasn’t odd to see in London. Marc shrugged, though he suddenly felt himself on guard. There was something about the place that twinged at the back of his mind. Some memory that felt fuzzy and not quite his own floated just out of reach. 

“Hola, Señor.” The shopkeep smiled brightly. A pot of bright orange flowers sat next to the register. 

Suddenly Marc was swimming as he felt himself become untethered. Steven blinked hard as he was slammed into the driver’s seat. A sensation he had not felt in a long time as he waited for the world to stop spinning. 

“M’alight.” Steven mumbled as he struggled to figure out what had happened. “Right. Uh… Hi. Sorry. Off day.” He nodded hello to the shop keep and smiled uncertainly. “I was hoping to get a few of those.” He pointed to the colorful rolls. “They are so pretty.” 

“Pan dulce.” The man smiled. “Sweet bread. Those ones are called conchas in some places because they look like seashells. Very popular for children and pretty ladies.” He winked. 

Steven nodded and picked out a couple in different colors. He hesitated as he saw an oddly shaped bread in the next display over. “What are those? They smell so nice! Zesty like oranges.” 

“Ah, pan de muertos. A seasonal bread for this time of year.” The man nodded. 

Steven looked up in surprise. “Muertos?” 

“Yes.” The man smiled. “For day of the dead. A little something to honor our loved ones who are gone.” 

“Oh…” Steven stared at the bread for a moment then shook his head. “Just the sweet breads, please.” 

He checked out, looking down at the pretty orange flowers curiously as he handed over the cash. “Marigolds? Right? The flowers I mean. Those are marigolds? They don’t grow so well over here. They do best in the sun.” 

It was difficult for Steven not to immediately info dump. He wanted to start up on Indian culture that used marigolds as a way to celebrate and worship. They were a symbol of brightness and the sun, placed around gods and goddesses and laid out in weddings and festive occasions. He was not as versed in this culture or mythology as he was Egyptology, so he made a mental note to freshen up a bit on it. 

“Yes. From Mexico actually.” The shopkeeper looked sad. “I do miss them. My mother had a talent for growing them. She sold them to families this time of year. Gave them for free if they were mourning a child.” 

“Oh…” Steven flushed. “That’s very kind of her…” He had gone for the happy use and completely overlooked the Latin American use. Strange how it had not come to his mind at all. Even stranger, how he had never thought to look any of that culture up. 

Steven nodded and collected his bread. “Thank you.” 

Leaving the shop he started the walk home. It took him a moment to gather what street he was on. Jake tended to wander into strange areas when out, while Steven liked to stay on the beaten path. 

“Marc?” Steven quietly poked around. “You alright? We’re out of the shop now. Did you need a minute?” 

He felt a rustle at the back of his mind and knew Marc was close enough to hear him but still unwilling to come out. 

“Marc, are we Latin American?” Steven flushed at how odd the question sounded. “I mean, I’m English. But I suppose that’s all in my head, innit? I wasn’t born over here. My parents weren’t English. I’m Jewish. I know that. I remember school and prayer and temple and Dad a bit. Those memories are mine. I’ve at least managed to sort those out. But…” 

Steven paused as he waited at a crosswalk with some other people. He liked to speak out loud. He loved the feel of using his own mouth and voice when speaking to Marc. It felt real if he spoke. It felt like he was a real person and not some voice floating in the void. He also understood what speaking out loud looked like to other people and often embarrassed himself. He was trying to get better at this part. 

He thought about his question again as he crossed the street. How else was he to put it? “The body is Latin American.” 

There was silence for a moment then Marc sighed and gave the smallest of shrugs. “Yeah. Really we’re from Chicago. You know that. The body is Chicago-ian.” 

Steven frowned and felt a memory stirr. From the fuzzy detail, he knew it wasn’t his. As soon as it started it stopped, pushed back and shut off as Marc fell silent again. 

Steven sensed Marc wanted him to drop it but a new curiosity had awakened inside him. This was something he didn’t yet know or understand. “Marigolds…” Steven looked up at the cross street names and took a hard turn as he made way for his favorite bookstore. 

–

Golden. 

So golden it warmed the very air. This time, it did not grow up around him, but spread out at his feet as if guiding him. Petals rolling gently past him and spreading out as if inviting him down a path. 

He was not alone this time. Jake stood before him. He spoke softly, his voice carrying on a breeze that Marc could not feel. 

“What?” Marc frowned as he only heard a garble of sounds he didn’t recognize. “I don’t understand.” 

Jake spoke louder, faster. The sounds moved past him, unobtainable no matter how he reached for them.” 

The wind picked up and a language he had long forgotten slammed into him. “I don’t understand.” 

Jake held out a hand, pleading at first then growing angry as the Spanish turned accusatory. 

“I don’t understand!” Marc yelled. He covered his ears. It was too golden here. Too warm. The flowers were glowing and blinding him. 

Something moved in the flowers behind him. Turning, he found a familiar boy. The boy smiled. “Hermano.” It started to rain. “Te recuerdo.” 

Marc jolted awake so hard that he shoved Layla and fell off the bed. 

He lay on the floor, staring up at the window across the room, watching the London rain pitter patter down the glass. 

“Marc? What the hell?” Layla mumbled sleepily. “Are you okay?” 

Was he okay? He couldn’t remember the last time he had been terrified of the rain. 

Something inside him clenched down in fear and he covered his ears to block out the sound. 

He heard Layla shift on the bed and felt her presence as she leaned over the edge of the bed to look down at him. “Hey? You alright?” 

His mouth moved on its own. “Perdí a alguien.”

Layla blinked. “What? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.” 

Marc shook his head and closed his eyes. “Stop it. Stop. I don’t want to hear it! I don’t speak fucking Spanish!” 

Marc could hear the sound of the rain flowing down the gutter and into the street. Washing everything away. Flooding the field of flowers. 

His eyes rolled back as he was overwhelmed. A groggy Steven blinked awake and stared up at Layla. “Hmnh? What are you doing up there? Wait… What am I doing down here? What’s going on?” 

Layla sighed and reached out to help pull him back up into the bed. “I have no idea. I think someone had a bad dream? I’m not sure who. There was Spanish and then Marc had a panic attack for about a second before you got here.” She gave an apologetic smile. “It happened really fast.” 

“Spanish?” Steven snuggled into her and buried his face in his pillow. “What Spanish?” 

“Pretty Alyen?” 

Steven turned his head in his pillow just enough to look at her with one eye. 

She flushed and looked away. “English is not my first language! I speak three other languages and Spanish is not one of them!” 

Steven groaned and buried his face back into the pillow. “I think Jake is upset about something. It’s upsetting Marc too, but I don’t think Marc understands why or what it is.” 

“And you don’t know what any of it could be?” She moved to gently stroke his back. 

Steven shook his head into the pillow. “Wish I did. Whatever it is, it’s between them. I have no memory of any of that. Being English and all…”  

He could hear her chewing her lower lip. It was something she did when unsure about something or thinking about something she wasn’t sure she wanted to bring up. 

He had to hand it to her, since coming back to London and staying with them, she had asked very few questions. Maybe she was worried she would ask the wrong ones. She had certainly learned a lot and taken in a lot in the span of a very short time. Especially with Jake entering the picture. 

Steven looked back at her and moved to take a hand, holding it gently to his chest. “Love, just ask. It’s okay to ask. I promise I won’t be mad. None of us will be mad if you ask.” 

“Why does Jake speak spanish?” She looked at him curiously. “I’ve never heard Marc speak Spanish. You certainly don’t. You know more French than Spanish from what I can gather. He must have picked it up from somewhere. You can’t just form as a person knowing a language. You have to be around it.” 

Steven lay there for a moment thinking about the question. He reached out, trying to see if Marc or Jake were near the surface. When he found both buried deep inside, he sighed. 

“Mom was Latin American. I don’t know from where or how many generations back. She spoke Spanish sometimes. Mostly on the phone to relatives. I think we must have met them at some point. I have no memories of this. I didn’t know I was… The body was… Hispanic, too.” He had gone through a complicated day of emotions when he had learned all this. Marc had refused to talk about any of it so he had been forced to coerce it out of Jake, which had taken him hours to get just this much. Jake had finally shared the memory of listening to her talk on the phone in rapid fire Spanish. 

Between the three of them, Steven still didn’t fully understand. He would have to do more research into it later. The hard part was that he wasn’t sure he wanted to do the research. It had been kept from him for a reason. It wasn’t part of his own backstory or memories. 

“I’m a fictive.” Steven didn’t like thinking about it. “My memories are… If it doesn’t fit my story to make me then I don’t have them.” He pulled the pillow down and hugged it for a moment, finding comfort in the weight and feel of it. 

“Hey.” Layla moved closer and hugged him. “We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“But I want to know.” Steven frowned. “I want to know why they are so upset. I want to help them.” 

Layla was quiet a moment. “Sometimes I worry I will forget my own language.” 

Steven looked at her in surprise. 

“When I left Egypt I didn’t speak Arabic for over a  year. Not even once. Not even when I was alone with myself.” She gently stroked his arm, tracing the familiar muscles and lines she found there. “When we went back I stumbled on my words. I spoke slower. It took me almost an hour before I got back into my normal rhythm. It was scary. I felt like I was losing a part of myself. Like I had let my heritage down. Like I was letting my father down. Like I was forgetting him.” 

Steven fidgeted with the pillow, trying to hide his distress. “You should never feel that way. He was so proud of you!” 

“I know.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “It came back to me. It just… For that hour I looked at myself and didn’t know who I was.” 

“Do you think Marc forgot? Do you think he used to know Spanish?” Steven blinked. “Is that where Jake comes from? But why? Why would he take it all? Why does he hold onto it so hard when it comes from such a place of hurt?” 

Layla shrugged. “Jake is complicated. So is Marc. I don’t understand what goes on between them. Something is upsetting one of them and the other isn’t exactly helping.” 

Steven nodded then remembered the flowers. “What’s today?” 

Layla reached across him to grab her phone from the side table. “October 31st. Happy Halloween I suppose.” 

Steven made a face. “I hate scary things. I’m the worst fictive ever.” 

Layla laughed and kissed him on the forehead. “You are fearless where it matters.” 

He smiled a little. “Thank you, love.” 

He squeezed the pillow then moved to nestle into her side. “I have an idea. I don’t think they’re going to like it. It might be a terrible idea, honestly. There’s a good chance it could backfire and well… If you thought Chernobyl was a meltdown disaster…” 

“You’re saying you want me as support just in case I need to intervene?” She looked at him curiously. 

Steven nodded. “If I upset Marc that much and then I also upset Jake, I might be flying solo for a day or two. They might never speak to me again!” He suddenly looked scared. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I don’t think I can handle that. I hate when they cut me out.” 

“Steven, do what you think is best to help them, but don’t worry so much. They love you and would never shut you out forever. I trust you to take care of them.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. 

He nodded and yawned. “What time is it?” 

“Three.” Layla sighed. “Marc always has his nightmares at this hour. It’s like he knows that this is the perfect hour to ruin a perfectly good sleep schedule.” 

“In the morning, I need to run to the store and pick up a few items. Then I need to do some more research.” This was going to take him all day, but he hoped it was worth it. 

–

The house smelled like warm bread and oranges. Steven had returned to the bakery and purchased some pan de muerto. He had also found a small toy in a shop that he couldn’t pass up. 

Sliding out a table, he placed a newly purchased children’s blanket over it then set out a plate of the bread. A cup of orange juice was set next to it. Something he thought might compliment the orange zest of the bread nicely. 

A small tea candle was lit and he placed the toy to the side, a little astronaut waving nicely. 

He had printed out a baseball pennant for the Chicago Cubs and carefully cut it out, taping it to the wall above the table. 

Lastly, he set a couple of marigold flowers on the table. He had explained the situation to the man at the bread shop and he had practically thrust the whole pot of flowers at Steven. Steven had politely declined but had asked for just a couple of clippings. 

Stepping back, he sighed. “It looks pitiful.” 

Layla shook her head. “I think it looks lovely, Steven. Go ahead. See if they are ready.” 

Steven nudged around. Of course he found Marc first, easily pulling him out of his deep sleep.

“What’s going on? What time is it?” Marc looked from Layla to the table. “What is this?” 

“It’s midnight. Steven wanted to try something. Don’t be mad at him.” She gave him a stern look. “He worked hard at this. 

Marc frowned and moved closer. A memory tugged, but it wasn’t his. Refused to be his. He pushed back from it and crossed his arms. “Why would he bother? Waste of time.” He moved as if to blow out the candle then stopped when he saw the little waving astronaut. 

His hand lifted in a returned wave. 

“Abuelita had one of these.” He gestured at the table dismissively. “Bigger. Better looking too. More flowers.” Marc crossed his arms and looked away. “We had to pay respects every year. It was Importante. Mom wouldn’t put one up.” He struggled to get the words out, fighting against the desire to shut down. “I asked dad… If I could. I wanted to… She threw the flowers…” His breathing started to grow erratic. 

His breathing stilled in an instant as Jake blinked in, looking around for a moment to take in the table. 

He picked up a flower and slowly spun it between his fingers, watching the petals rotate. He mumbled something in Spanish then set the flower back down gingerly. 

“Are you okay?” Layla asked softly. 

Jake inhaled deeply then slowly exhaled. “Yes. I think so.” 

“Is Marc okay?” She was always hesitant to ask. 

Jake took a moment. “Yeah. We always wanted an Ofrenda. Abuelita’s was so beautiful. The candles and the flowers… We loved the stories she told as she lit each candle for each person. When Randall died, we tried to set up our own. We thought he deserved to be with all the pretty lights and flowers.” 

Layla was quiet as Jake shifted on his feet slightly. He had a way of speaking of their bad memories like a casual observer. She knew he was far from partial to it all. There was always barely simmering rage just under the surface of them, waiting to smother out the pain that threatened to rise up. 

He put his hands in his pockets for a moment, remembering what Marc could not. The screams. The rage. The overturned table. The flower pot crashing into his head as it flew across the room. The bloody gash that needed stitches. The lies at the doctors office that he had told. It was not the first time Jake had taken over to protect them, but it was the first memory that he had closed off as his own. 

“We never had one again. Marc stopped speaking Spanish after that. Refused to do anything from her side of the family. I don’t blame him.” Jake shrugged and picked up the small astronaut, looking it over. He then looked up at the baseball banner and single candle. 

Realization hit him and he dropped the toy. “It’s not for him…” Jake breathed out. “It’s for us.” 

Steven slowly surfaced. “We died, didn’t we? We lost everything when we were so young. Don’t you think that we deserve to be remembered too? When we were one? One heart struggling to survive?” 

“Yeah… We did die.” Marc bent and picked up the toy, holding it tightly. 

“I read that an important part of today is to not just have pictures, but to tell stories. To talk about your memories and be happy for them.” Steven gave a small smile. “I don’t think I remember anything real. I just remember our room. Kinda like this.” He set the spaceman back down and lightly traced a finger on the Cubs banner. “I liked the colors. I don’t think I knew what they were for, but I liked the triangular shape and colors.” 

Jake smiled and realized the blanket on the ofrenda was a kid’s race car blanket. “We had a race car bed. We used to roll over and kick the side every night, but we refused to admit we needed a bigger bed. We colored a paper plate like a steering wheel and kept it under the pillow.” 

Marc nodded. “Yeah. There was a telescope. Thought we could be an explorer out there or something. Weren’t any good at remembering the names of the constellations, but we could find them.” 

“I remember that.” Steven smiled. “We found the Little Dipper every night.” 

“You know, we used to hate milk.” Marc made a face. “Or was that just me?” 

“Milk is right disgusting.” Steven made the same face. 

“You two are idiotas. Milk is wonderful! Prefer it in my coffee to creamer.” Jake huffed. “Do you remember the little candies Abuelita used to give us?” 

“Red hots.” Marc groaned. “Basically candy coated cinnamon pain.” 

“I keep a pack of them in my car.” Jake grinned. 

“I have a memory of getting into a jar of jalapenos once.” Steven shuddered. “Was that real?” 

“Oh god.” Marc chuckled. “Her homemade pickled Jalapenos. She hid them up on the top of the cabinet. DId we really eat half the jar?” 

“We ate the whole jar. We puked.” Jake nodded.

Steven cringed. “Is that why I can’t look at a pickled jalapeno without gagging?” 

“I’d do it again.” Jake smiled smugly. “Those were the best damn jalapenos I ever had.” 

They laughed softly and watched the candle flicker for a moment, remembering hazy moments that weren’t quite clear to them. Piecing together moments that some only had bits to and correcting memories that were almost forgotten. 

Marc turned to Layla after a moment. “Would you mind… Find us another candle?” 

She blinked in surprise and moved to get one from the kitchen. “Who is this one for?” 

“Randall.” Marc set it down next to the first one and carefully lit it. “I don’t have any pictures, but I think it’s time he was properly honored.” 

“We never got to attend his funeral or Shiva.” Jake whispered. “She made sure of that.” 

“Yeah.” Marc sighed. “I don’t know how much of him you remember… But I’d like to share…” 

“I didn’t even know I had one.” Steven looked down sadly. 

“I have some images…” Jake shook his head. “Not really connected with good things.” Memories that were locked away so completely that he made sure none of them had access to them. 

“Let’s fix that.” Marc moved to sit down and beckoned Layla over. Once they were all settled, Marc took a slow breath. 

“I had a younger brother named Randall. He was a pain. Always taking my toys and wanting to color. But any time I wanted to play pretend, he was right there with me.” Marc took Layla’s hand and held it tightly. 

They talked for hours and ate the bread together, telling stories of what he could remember of his younger brother and growing up with him. It was the most Marc had ever let himself remember before. There were a surprising number of good memories. 

Now and then, Jake would add in a detail Marc had missed. Something small that made the memory more real. Steven had even added in a detail he was surprised to remember, though he lacked the context. 

By the end, they were exhausted, curling up on the couch with Layla and fading in and out of sleep. 

“Thank you for sharing.” She whispered and kissed his forehead. “You should get some rest.” 

“I know it isn’t really your culture or anything…” Steven nervously looked up at her. “The holiday does last all day and ends on the second… If you wanted to… You could tell us about your father. Marc says it’s okay if you share. Jake says it’s okay to put his photo up if you like.” 

Layla thought about it for a moment then nodded. “It’s about honoring family, isn’t it? I think I would like that… Adding my memories to yours…” 

Steven smiled and closed his eyes. “A path of Marigolds to lead us to the field of reeds. I think it would be lovely if we could all be there together next time…” 

Marc dreamed. Gold and orange mixing in the silence. He wasn’t alone this time. The silence was broken by the sound of Jake humming softly, playing a guitar somewhere in the reeds. Next to him Steven looked around with wide eyes as he took in the colorful sky. He was buzzing and babbling about the history of the reeds. 

Marc breathed a sigh of relief. He hated the silence. Smiling, he sat back and closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of family. 

[coming-for-your-vocalfolds]

Undead Unluck Oc: Mira don't feel like giving her a last name/doesn't need one

Backstory cw: Gang violence, Vague mention of child prostitution, Suicide, Dark themes

2k word count

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There were 3 gangs, one of them is where Mira comes from ran by a cruel man that saw children as financial opportunities. From the age the children could walk they were given guns and taught to shoot. The same happened to Mira and Vex. Vex was good with guns and long range while Mira was good with knives and close range. And they were inseparable... until they weren't

Ramón had a system to get the most out of "his" children. She was put into prostitution once she started developing, despite her proficiency with weapons. And she hated every second of it, especially that one customer that came way too often. But she managed sneaking to see Vex any chance she got which was her saving grace until That customer came into her room with a paper claiming that she belongs to him. That moment was when he negatetor ability manifested. The anger boiled over as she said the first words that came to mind "Kill... Your... Self". The anger was replaced shock as he dropped the contract, turned around and banged his head into wall until he stopped moving.

Silence filled the room, she didn't know what to do, she knew she would get blamed for his death, especially knowing she was good with weapons... But... he.. killed himself. She slowly walked towards him and examined his body, she realized he dropped the contract. Quickly she snatched it up and showed it to the leader of the prostitution ring. He looks at it and goes to her room to confirm, he's dead, the contract is in her hands. She's free. She tells Vex and she goes back to the fighting division of the gang

5 years of training and honing her ability and fighting techniques. As well as gathering a group to take over the gang. And today was the day she walks into Ramóns meeting quarters, Vex close behind and reasons with him as to why she should run it. He wasn't willing to let go of his position and she no intention of letting him leave alive, she just wanted to seem diplomatic.

She uses her ability to keep him in his seat while she takes her place behind Ramón and states that anyone who wishes to stay by his side will indeed stay by his side under her rule. And they all choose to continue working under Ramón so she has Vex shoot them and she kills Ramón herself.

In power she abolished the prostitution ring as well as taking the children from the fighting division and having them live together with the elderly in a building in the middle of their territory. Takes up the positions that need to be filled by the deaths until the person she appoints learns what they need to be in charge, Vex always staying as her right hand.

Years have passed and all the positions have been filled with competent people, the children have caretakers and people are living as peacefully as they can giving they're in a gang until. A separate gang breaks the truce, and now they're at war, which she didn't prepare for she forgot it was a possibility while addressing the wounded a random blue haired man speaks of an "Uma" and how he's "just here to help" she knows you can't trust anyone during war. Interrogating him and his friend did nothing until a loud explosion went off behind her. ☆(This is where the timeline spilts)

The center of her territory was leveled with a large monster sitting on top, it's become too much, she can't think even with the monster coming towards her until she hears her name. It's Vex yelling for her to move but nothing's processing. Well until Vex was injured trying to protect her. All of her focus went to him and his dying moments. She got up and helped the odd blue haired man and his black haired friend kill whatever the hell that thing was sustaining serious injuries hoping she'll join her brother in death.

To her misfortune she wakes up in some weird hospital with the blue haired man and the girl that seems to follow him around and learns their names that she didn't care to remember. While she's there she learns about the union and what they do, which she cut off the first 10 minutes in because she actually couldn't care less

While there Shen was assigned to watch over her and possibly get some info out of her because so far they haven't even gotten her name. Couple days in and she's approached by a scruffy looking man in sunglasses (inside he must think he's tough or something) about an opposing role with a position to be filled and well, she has no loyalty to the organization she's currently in. Why not have some fun? Throughout the rest of the month she meets up with the scruffy man named Billy about the plans and he entertains her, she might stay a bit longer.

She helps him with the betrayal of the Union and meets the Under which she gets along with very well. She helps with kidnapping Fukko in which her headache comes back with the amount of talk-no-jutsu she attempts to perform. When Fukko gets stabbed she practically celebrates, until Billy tells her she's necessary for the next "loop". Again, couldn't care less. At the end of the loop she gets severely injured protecting Billy. There's no time to rest or get patched up, so Billy takes her some out of the way as she bleeds out. She realizes something, so she tries to use her ability on him to be sure and she was right. She had grown quite fond of Billy, and Tella, Rip, Latla and Enjin but she didn't even realize it and she laughs. Billy thought it was the blood loss getting to her but still questions her cus well, he's grown fond of her too. She states how stupid it is to put this much faith in a teenage girl, and this is what she wanted from the day she lost her family. "I'll find you next loop, and things Will turn out better." She laughs again harder this time "You're a hopeful idiot" she scoffed and says as she gives him the date the war started. "Right" he states as he walks off "i'll hold you to that" she says under her last breath

101th Loop Timeline~⊹₊·✧*•*✧·₊⊹₊·

★A separate gang breaks the truce, and now they're at war, which she didn't prepare for. She forgot it was a possibility while making a game plan for attack, someone comes barging in stating that there is a group of people looking for her. She pauses and considers her priorities, and she tells him to bring them in.

They're six of them lined up on their knees, hands behind their heads. She examined them thoroughly for any signs of them being spies for a rival gang: A man with his black hair slicked back with sunglasses, A blonde with a mask. A blue haired man with his hair pulled back into a braid, a black haired girl with part of her hair in buns while the rest flowed down her back. An angry looking pink haired chick and lastly a black haired girl in a beanie. She had no clue as to why but that last girl just struck a nerve.

She asks them what they want and why they're here, the girl with the beanie starts to talk of helping them but she is quickly silenced by the black haired guy. He goes on to state that they live quite a ways away but somehow got wind of commotion, from one of her people, so they came to help. As she thinks about it the story checks out, she allowed those who didn't want to fight to leave, and she was a good leader, so it's reasonable for them to send help. She tells them if they wish to join the efforts they can go talk to the forces outside because she has to focus on strategizing. The man with sunglasses offers to help along with his blonde friend that doesn't seem to speak. The rest go outside and she orders Vex to go with them to and take care of them if they decide to cause issues.

Couple hours later they emerge from the meeting hall with a plan, a member of each squad hanging around. They were told the plan and sent back to their squad to tell the plan to their leaders. Vex sticks by her side as she approaches the group of outsiders, but she stops and looks at him and carefully explains that she wants him in a different squad in case something happens, and the group on the other side need a competent person to lead. Despite his obvious detaste with this he listens nonetheless. All the while Billy explains the plans to everyone, after Vex leaves she turns around to lead the group she waits till after she gets the signal to start.

After she executes the plan and the leaders of the other gangs. She goes back to her meeting hall to rest Vex not far behind as the rest of her gang celebrates the victory. Drinking and singing and dancing and everyone enjoying them themselves. While she sits on an elevated platform Vex right beside her sharing a drink. The odd group of people are enjoying themselves too, she never cared the learn they're names outside of Tella and Billy due to their help with the plan.

She closes her eyes and thinks about what's ahead, all of the territories are hers and now comes cleaning and expansion. She talks to Vex about what they can do with what and what that should do with the bodies. Until the girl with the beanie comes up and explains why they're actually here. They wanted her to join the force to save the world. She declines near immediately, the girl sounds crazy and if she dies, she wants to die here with her family. "But if you come with us no one has to die, I'll be sure of it" Billy cuts in, she stares at him with an unchanging expression. She scoffs "You sound like an idiot" and she refuses yet again.

Vex beckons her closer and states that he thinks she should go. She was shocked, she leaned in and whispered "Do you think I'm as crazy as them" "I mean" Vex starts "You've done some crazy stuff. You have to be kinda crazy to do those things. But I'll go with you, because I think we can make things better for other people. Like we did here."

The next day they announced they would be leaving, they appointed leaders and offered encouragement in rebuilding the place. She joins the Union under the agreement that as long as she works for them, they provide supplies and learning materials for her gang, no... village and provide backup if they're ever under attack. Her and Vex sat in their first Union meeting. They were hit with a feeling they haven't felt in years if they've even felt it before. Relaxed.

No pressure on their shoulders, no worries about food or money or missing supplies. They can kick back and relax and live life on vacation, with the occasional monster fight. Everyone seems to pick up on this and they let them be, Shen with the occasional check in due to underlying feelings from the previous loop.

"Do you remember me?'' She was enjoying her evening with Vex and ramen from Enjin when she heard a voice. She acknowledges him with a mouth full of ramen and shrugs her shoulders, knowing good and well the overwhelming she put in him and Tella during the gang war was influenced from somewhere. "Fukko said that in the previous loop we met in the Union and became close" "You believe what that girl says" Vex buts in "You don't" Billy's rebuttal hit something in her brain. "Billy, did you lie to me but in my village" silence spread throughout the room "No... everything I said was the truth. In the previous loop you told me the date the war started, so I came to help". She laughs, loud and hard, even spitting out some ramen. Once she calms down "You all sound crazy and you all believe it so thoroughly" Billy feels like he's being shamed while she laughs he figures she doesn't remember him, he's about to leave when she says "I guess you've fulfilled your promise”

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Well thank you for reading this far, It wasn't necessary, but it's much appreciated.

[aritamargarita]

GOLDEN || 001

ALL RISEEE!!!

it’s been two years. TWO YEARS. in the works. im cutting right to the chase

different superstars = more romance different opportunities. let’s get this bread. some of the events are kinda mashed up but im trying to make it in a way that’s just..fun?

this the “mycareer” saga istg. what’s next, 2014-2020 era?...maybe. regardless, if you’ve read my previous fic attitude you know what’s up. these installments aren’t set in the same like universe. so things won’t overlap and some things are set to change. im mushing most of the years all together. i will also kind of skip over some events and things at times but other than that, i hope you enjoy! kinda goin on my own flow. just know WE GOING TO THE SLAMMYS Y’ALL!!! GET YOUR FITS TOGETHER!!!!

FROM ECW TO THE WWF, you’re here to try and prove yourself. To make some sort of change. You’re different. A woman who is confident in her wrestling skills. It’s about time for you to truly shine.

BACKSTAGE // 7:01 PM

It’s so quiet.

You checked yourself in the mirror. Tonight was your night. It was hard getting through to the WWF in the first place. You’ve tried so hard, practicing and training for this very moment. Putting your best in a damn ring just so someone could scout you.

....It’s finally paid off!

Everything you’ve worked for, from the bottom of the barrel towards the tip top. You checked your face in the mirror, making sure everything was a-okay. Feeling confident enough, you gave a goofy smile (with two thumbs up!) to your reflection. You thought you looked amazing tonight, no one could tell you otherwise. No one could deter your spirit.

Despite your debut in the WWF being in a weird shift period, you thought you joined at its peak. Things seemed to be heating up, but you were just so excited to start a new journey.

Your beginning in wrestling itself was nothing short of an interesting one. You had been working in the most extreme company for at least two years now. ECW, to be specific.

Most would say the WWF ‘stole’ you from them. Others would say it was a smart business decision. This little ECW invasion wasn’t happening without certain superstars making their move into the company. The first time you’ve ever stepped into their arena was when Paul E. Dangerously and Jerry Lawler were going at it at the ring.

You captured the eyes of many, in the crowd and even backstage. It was incredibly obvious that WWF was keeping their eyes out for people who could possibly bring more attention. WCW was kicking their ass at this point, so what could they lose bringing in a couple of “misfits”?

Your experience at ECW wasn’t too bad at all, but you’ve taken way too many bumps to count so far. Now, you weren’t exactly afraid of getting hurt, but you always end up cursing yourself out for the pain you felt after the adrenaline was gone.

The stinging pain of a paper cut pales in comparison to being hit with a chair, on accident, mind you.

On a much lighter note, you’ve met so many amazing and odd people there. However, being a manager to interchangeable wrestlers got really tiring. Not only that, but being chanted at to take off your clothes was just another can of worms. Were there really that many low lives out there?? That or they never get any action at home. You were used to it at this point.

It got to a point where you debated no-showing. Someone just has to put you through a table. It’s always: “Oh, [Name]! I’m going to put you through a table!” or even “Oh, [Name]! I’m going to swing at you with this bat with barbed wire!”

Why do they wake up and choose violence? Actually, that was the gist of wrestling, but hey, ECW wasn’t called extreme for nothing!

To be honest, you were just frustrated because of the lack of activity you got while you were there.

People always considered it a “mans sport”, which irritated you to no end. Anyone could do it. Anyone could wrestle!

You’ve met Francine and Beulah who were also fierce managers like you, but you’ve also came across Sunny at one point. She was with the WWF, and as a matter of fact, she may even be here tonight. Her visiting the promotion seemed to be a brief stint.

After all, she only had a few appearances here and there. At times she would be nice, then suddenly act like you didn’t exist. You’d ask her about her experience in the WWF and she never gave you a straight answer.

It was weird and it rubbed you the wrong way. But she was acting that way because she came from an entirely different company? You didn’t know. Makes you wonder if all superstars here were like that.

Anywho, everything seemed to be right on your end. You stood up and turned around in the mirror, doing a slow 360.

Suddenly, the door slams open, startling you.

“That bitch! What am I going to do!?” A woman donning leather clothing was absolutely seething, walking around hastily.

Did she even know you were there?

This was quite the awkward encounter. The tone in her voice indicated that she was absolutely pissed.

You moved out of her way so that she could reach for a whip that was located on the side of the vanity. This woman looked familiar, so it couldn’t hurt to ask who she was. “Hey, do I know you? Or maybe have seen you around? I’m new.” You went straight for the kill and she turns to you slowly.

Did you set yourself up to be in her path of rage?

She wasn’t offended that you didn’t know her, just a little surprised. “You do look like a new face.” She quipped, putting her hand on her hip. She seemed to analyze you for a moment. “But I’m sure you don’t know me.” She reached out her hand for you to shake. “I’ll give you the honor. It’s Sable, if you have to know.”

“[Name],” You introduce, taking her hand and shaking it. “It’s nice to meet you, Sable. I hope we can be friends.”

Sable lets go of you at the mention of friendship and scoffs. You were seriously here to be buddy-buddy with people? “Friends?” She smirks as she waved her hand and saunters over to a bag that was in a cubby. “Right, friends…”

This Sable woman seemed nice! But you couldn’t help but to notice the catty tone in her voice. Oh well. Not really your problem. Or is it?

You had no malicious intention towards her and you damn sure hope she had none toward you. Watching as she packs a couple of her things, you finally open your mouth. “Hey. Why were you mad any….?” Before you could ask your question, she quickly leaves the room, slamming the door shut.

“….Nevermind. Alright then, bye Sable.”

That whole experience was weird.

You probably should step outside too, get to know some more of your co-workers. You step out of the women’s locker room, heading right down the hall. You were pretty sure the show was going on, so when it came to meeting new people, you’ll take what you could get.

“Excuse me, miss?”

A croaky voice had made you stop immediately. Turning on your heel, you saw a haggard-looking man with a mask on his face, holding up his hand which seemed to be covered with a sock.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” He says, turning his head towards the sock. “Have you, Mr. Socko?”

He then makes his voice a little higher pitched to respond: “Nope! Who is this lady?”

You…

Yeah, you don’t really know what to say at all. You just look at him in bewilderment. He seems to notice how confused you looked and makes a noise. “Oh. I’m sorry, I forgot we had to introduce ourselves…I’m Mankind. And this is Mr. Socko. We’re best friends.”

Mankind makes Mr. Socko nod, and you could only wave.

“Hi.” You greet. ECW had its weird characters, but you’ve never seen something like this. “I’m definitely new! My name is [Name].” You reach out your hand for him so he can shake it. “Wouldn’t uh, wanna smother your best friend.”

He takes it using his free hand and shakes it firmly. “You’re very considerate, [Name]. But I can say for Mr. Socko that he wouldn’t mind being smothered by you, it makes us feel tingly all over.”

Do they have a psychologist here??? Something?? This guy’s one hell of a character.

“Hahah. Right. Riiightt.” You say, a strained smile on your face.

“I live in the boiler room.” He randomly adds. “And George likes friends. You should visit. Nothing leaks anymore!”

“George?” You repeat in confusion. “Who’s that?”

“My pet rat!” Mankind exclaimed, making you wince slightly. “Mr. Socko and I spend time with him a lot. He’s very nice…”

You nod slowly. Mental note, try to stay away as far as possible from this “Mankind”, in the future. He scares the hell out of you. “Pet rat, huh? That’s nice! I’d love to stay and chat, but unfortunately, I left my stove running and it’s gas. Everything will explode. I’ll lose everything I love. And to top it all off, I left both my sink and bathtub running. So not only will I lose everything, I’ll be flooded out my own home.”

“I see…” Mankind seemed to believe your extravagant lie, giving a nod. “Wouldn’t want that to happen.” He rasps out. Lifting Mr. Socko up, which you still couldn’t believe it was a literal fucking sock, seemed to have some words for you too.

“Have a nice day!”

After that very strange encounter, you find yourself staring at the match card for the day.

HUNTER HEARST HELMSLEY VS. GOLDUST

AHMED JOHNSON VS. OWEN HART

BRET HART VS. KEN SHAMROCK

BILLY GUNN & ROAD DOGG VS. THE NEW BLACKJACKS

MARC MERO VS. FLASH FUNK

THE LEGION OF DOOM VS. LOS BORICUAS

Great. Very good. Very nice.

Problem is, you didn’t even know who half of these people were. The only person you knew was Sable, who not only was a valet for this Marc Mero guy, but she also had a segment.

It was something about a possible magazine cover. No wonder why she seemed a bit familiar.

You weren’t really expecting yourself to be on Yhe card, but it still was a bit of a disappointment. What’s the fun in standing around backstage if you couldn’t even go outside in the ring and have fun?!

Hell, you’d be pleased even if it was some sort of small ringside fight!

Letting out a sigh, you stretch your arms. Today was going to be a long day.

“You’re [Name], correct?”

Someone else? Oh boy. Who’s next? You hope it’s not another weirdo. Or someone who could be incredibly rude towards you. Looking over, you’re immediately startled to see the owner of the company. “Holy—“

You bite your tongue, taking a deep breath. He scared the hell out of you. Though you were caught off guard, you tried your best to get it together. Automatically, you had begun thinking you did something wrong.

“Good afternoon.” Vince greets.

“Good afternoon.” You greet back, setting a hand on the wall. Cool, calm, and collected. Just act like it’s not bothering you as much. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

He cleared his throat and shook his head at your question. “No, no.” He mutters. You thought the room had gotten colder before he continued. “Do you have any experience in wrestling?”

Already, you inwardly cheer. That must mean that you were getting somewhere. Maybe they did their research before hiring you. “Yeah. And I’m pretty good at it, I’d say. I know the basics, but I’m ready to learn more.”

He nods, but he doesn’t look impressed. You really couldn’t gauge how he felt. “How interested would you be in working on a storyline?“ He asks. “On a scale of one to ten.”

“Probably eight.”

“We’re thinking of giving you..a purpose.” He says. “You have no gimmick, just a fresh face. The creative team will get back to you later.”

That was definitely a blunt way to put it. All you can really do is nod your head.

He outstretched his hand and you hesitate to reach your own out to shake his. Deal is sealed.

“Are you going to make me wrestle?”

Your question makes him raise an eyebrow. “Wrestle? Well, we don’t have many woman competitors.” And you figured as much. “We’ll see what we can do. You’ll be a valet at best.”

Fantastic.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, a certain group was listening to your conversation nearby.

“Think she’s gonna last here?” A man asks, looking at both his partners. “She’s got some guts, if you ask me, just asking Vinny Mac to put her in a ring.”

The woman crossed her arms, waiting to hear what the two had to say first. The other man shook his head, clicking his tongue.

“You heard what Vince said, Shawn. That chick’s just going to be another valet. Your thoughts, Chyna?”

“....” She stayed silent at first. “It’s not any of my business and it isn’t any of ours.” She simply says. “Let’s get going already.”

“You guys can go,” Shawn says, leaning on the wall. “I’m gonna lay down the law with her.”

“Keep it in your pants for once.” Chyna rolls her eyes. “You can’t flirt with everything that—“ She doesn’t get to even finish her sentence before Shawn saunters off towards you.

Before you could ask Vince another question, a new voice enters into the fray. “Vinny Mac! And who’s this lovely lady you’ve got with you? Never seen her around before.”

“Shawn.” Vince greeted him only by saying his name, giving a curt nod. He doesn’t answer his question about you. “Come to bother me again?”

“Of course not, old pal! Just wanted to see what’s new in the neighborhood.” This Shawn guy, who the hell was he? He looks you up and down for a moment. “Not bad, not bad. Where’d you pop up from?”

“ECW.” You respond. He was starting to make you a little nervous, so you fold your hands behind your back. “I’m very new.”

“Has anyone showed you around yet?” He asks, lightly setting a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t I do the honors?”

Of course, you couldn’t refuse.