#you are not tainted forever for the things you said a year ago

[anonymousdidsys]

The leftism leaving peoples’ bodies when I tell them that our hypervigilant internet culture which thrives on making callout posts on and cancelling random people for being “problematic” (ie mistakes they intend to learn from, normal parts of growing up they’ll grow out of, shipping something someone doesn’t like, etc) and never giving people second chances is inherently un-leftist

[maxislvt]

Could I request a dark fic where Vampire!Wanda and Mortal!Reader fall in love, and after getting married, Wanda offers to turn Reader into a vampire but Reader says no. However, years go by and Reader is on their deathbed, about to succumb to old age, when Wanda decides she must turn Reader whether they like it or not.

Thank you!

p.s. i am a simp for Vampire Mommy Wanda

warnings: angst, mention of terminal illness, arguin

I didn't realize the old age part so this is just kinda sadder than need be

Death was the price that came with loving a mortal.

As a vampire, Wanda was cursed to live forever. An eternity filled with nothing but quick flings that would amount to nothing in the end. It was a rather sad love life, but Wanda had convinced herself she was okay with it. With a legacy to keep secret and company to run — her schedule was pretty tight. A relationship would just add more stress. That's what she told herself. Then you came along and ruined a near two hundred year streak of being single.

You were everything Wanda wanted in a lover. Someone gentle and kind to cut down the bitterness she'd collected over the years. It didn't take long for her to realize how much she needed you. Wanda clung to you for dear life. The mere thought of you leaving her sent her into a spiral. You were always quick to put out her fears. You never even considered leaving Wanda. She gave you her everything — you had no reason to.

Wanda wasn't entirely sure what she'd done to make you change your mind.

"You said—" Wanda took a deep breath. She'd never been so upset with you before. "You said you'd never leave me! We were supposed to be together forever." You always had a way of making Wanda feel things that had laid dormant for years. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this upset. Her cheeks burned with hot tears. After everything she had done for you, you were still so comfortable just leaving her? It wasn't fair. "I won't be able to love anyone else."

You flinch at the harsh reality in Wanda's words. "I'm not leaving you. It's just my time to go." You had come to terms with the fact you'd die months ago. The doctors handed you a diagnosis and said you only had so long. Fighting it was futile. You didn't expect Wanda to be okay with it. Finding love after decades of loneliness only to have it ripped away was a pain beyond your imagination. But you only had about two weeks left and you didn't want that dread hanging over your head the entire time. "Just love me as much as you can, while you still can." You spoke as softly as you could. "Come here, I want to cuddle."

Wanda took a deep breath before laying down next to you. Fear still ran hot through her vines. It was making her irrational. "I could do it forever if you'd just let me-"

"I don't want to be turned into a vampire. You have to respect that. "

"I don't want to be alone forever, can't you respect that?"

You sighed and rubbed your temples. "Wanda, you're being selfish. Think about all the people I care about and would have to watch die. I can't do that." Your arms wrapped around Wanda's body and pulled her close. "I don't really want to talk about this anymore. Let's just call it a night. Please?"

Wanda pulled away and looked down at you. She could see life fading from your body. You were paler and the bags under your eyes were getting darker. Even the light in your eyes was starting to fade. It was like looking at a doomsday clock meant specifically just for you. Wanda would do anything to keep that clock from sticking 12. She wasn't going to let you die. Your approval was going to have to take the backseat for her to do that. "Okay, I won't bring it up anymore." She placed a gentle kiss on your lips before laying back down and holding you close.

She wasn't foolish enough to do it while you were awake. Once Wanda was sure you'd fallen asleep, her fangs buried themselves into your lower back. Sickness had tainted the taste of your blood forever ago. The sugary sweetness had now faded into something bitter and medicinal. She sucked until she had taken just enough to turn you. Her tongue licked at the wound so it'd be healed by the morning.

You'd hate her for it. Maybe you'd argue again or run off screaming with the hopes of finding a cure. You would come back eventually. Eventually, Wanda would be the only one you'd have left to run to. It appeared you had figured that out faster than Wanda expected.

Wanda expected nothing less from someone as smart as you.

"Wanda," You whispered from the bathroom. Despite calling for her, you didn't even spare your partner a glance. Your eyes focused on the cut quickly healing on your finger. You wipe away the blood slowly. Focusing on the task to avoid blowing up at the woman standing in the door frame. A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you turned to face her. "Why'd you do it?" The look in your eyes was cold and almost uncaring.

That wasn't the first time you looked at her like that. It certainly wouldn't be the last now that you two had an eternity together.

"I did what I thought was best." Wanda stretched out her arms. "I know it's going to be scary at first, but I'm going to be here with you every step of the-"

You quickly pushed past Wanda. You grabbed a bag and began stuffing your clothes in it. "I can't be around you right now." Every word Wanda said fell on deaf ears as you continued packing. There was nothing she could say that would make you feel better. Just as you tried to zip up the bag, Wanda tried to snatch away. "Wanda, I don't want to hear it!" You shouted before snatching the bag away from her. It felt good to be strong enough to stand up for yourself. You turned and walked away.

"Stop walking away from me and listen!"

Your body stopped dead in its tracks. How could you have forgotten? Turned vampires were nothing to someone from a bloodline as powerful as Wanda's. That was just another way you'd be inferior to her.

Wanda turned your body so you were forced to look at her. "I did what I had to do to keep us happy. I will not sit here and let you make me a villain for putting you first!" She could see the anger burning bright behind your eyes "I gave you my whole heart and I'm not going to let you run off and break it!" It didn't feel right yelling at you. It wasn't your fault you were born a mortal or her a vampire. But something had to be done in order for you two to stay together. Wanda needed reassurance but all you were showing her was animosity. "Say something damn it! I need you!"

For a moment you just stared at Wanda. Fighting the urge to obey her wasn't easy, but you weren't going to let her win.

"I hate you more than anything right now."

[actual-changeling]

i thought too much about Crowley's fall and ended up with 800 words of... something. enjoy (hopefully)

——

Crowley—still Crawly then—wondered for a while whether there was anything noble in falling. It had certainly felt like it for a while, when falling meant spreading your wings and warming steel within your fists, when falling was not falling but rising from the depths She had bound them to.

With his own creations at his fingertips, he understood the urge to protect what seemed so much more fragile than himself, thinking himself to be Her in all the ways that mattered—thinking that She, too, would protect what was Hers and nothing but a candle flame next to Her radiance.

After the fall, after broken wings and bleeding hearts, and even with his memories buried in a fog of pitch-black pain, he knows that he never regretted a single question. She made him, but he was remaking himself.

When he met a familiar face on the walls of Eden, he soon understood that there was the same familiar warmth in an entirely different kind of fall.

After falling for love—for his stars—he fell into love with open eyes and no fear of hitting the ground. Nothing could ever compare to the agony of grace burning its way out of his soul, and despite still healing scars, he was hoping to never land at all.

Crowley fell for six thousand years, falling so Aziraphale did not have to, falling because he saw something worth protecting, falling because he could protect him.

Falling because no one protected him, and now pain does not matter anymore. Falling because if there is one thing worse than regretting the jump, it is realising half-way down that the person you jumped for never meant to catch you at all.

God had loved him, once upon a time, with kindness in Her eyes yet not in Her words, not in Her hands. When he fell out of Her favour, he was swallowed up by the dark and spit out at the feet of the earth, forever bound to shadows.

Aziraphale loves him, and that has never been the question Crowley was too scared to ask—it is the 'how' that terrified him, or rather the fact that the answer to it has always been buried deep below his ribs. He wasn't scared to ask; he was scared to look down and see him stepping away with his hands behind his back.

Aziraphale loves him like God loves him:

Not like a fragile creation to protect, but a creature with the purpose of serving as the oxygen to his flame, so he can keep shining while Crowley watches his hands blacken with ash and soot. In all their time, Aziraphale never dared to reach out, to touch, apparently too afraid of tainting himself; still guiltessly hoping that She, who averted Her gaze long ago, would one day meet his eyes again.

Crowley saw the truth of Her light and fell for his stars. He fell for an angel no longer his, he fell, so Aziraphale did not have to. They are both standing on the same precipice, one having already clawed his way back up, the other closing his eyes and refusing to hear Her voice commanding them to jump.

Risk the fall, gain freedom or balance on the edge, and convince yourself that you will never sway too far to the wrong side. Convince yourself that She would ever allow you to step back from the cliff instead of pushing you off it. Convince yourself that you are too light and burning too brightly for gravity to ever get a hold of you. Convince yourself that those are the screams of the depraved and not the righteous—you with a different face, you with darker wings, you in all but name in soul, you you you—meeting a fate meant for all of Her children.

This has to be love, Crowley decides halfway down; it has to be. After all, he will still be there once I have climbed back up.

After all, he never told me to jump.

After all, he never pushed me off the edge—he simply stepped back and said you first without ever intending to follow.

In love, there is devotion, and what is devotion but carving the best parts of yourself out of your soul and offering them—raw and bleeding—to someone who would rather watch you destroy everything you could have been than ever hand anything back to you?

(Someone who watched you jump and judged you for it.)

There is barely anything left of him now, but there is something left. Something bright and fragile, a being robbed of innocence so long ago. The only thing worth falling for, no matter what name he gives himself.

Crowley breathed life into the emptiness of the universe, and now it owes him; if no one is willing to fall with him, he will pull them down and reclaim what is his until his feet are touching the ground again.

Until he stops looking up and looks forward instead, no longer waiting for anyone to follow while he finally walks away from heaven's edge.

[originalaccountname]

Fun BSD French translation details and choices - Episode 21 (by someone who does not understand Japanese but thinks the differences with the English translation/subtitles are fun)

General notes: (get comfortable, Stuff Happens and blorbo is here)

A lot of weird little things today. Kouyou said she was delivering Dazai's message to Mori "to thank the ADA for their hospitality". Mori talks like he's mistaking Dazai's tan coat for the coat he gave him years ago and is delighted Dazai still wears it. Dazai says he only recently learned about the thinkers Mori mentions. Stuff like that, that shifts time or intent slightly.

Dazai's final jab to Mori was "les monstres ont tendance à croire que les autres sont des monstres également" (monsters tend to think others are also monsters).

Soukoku's name in French in the anime is "Double Noir", literally "Double Black" (though 'noir' can mean both 'black' and 'dark'). Fun fact: on the French wiki, they are also listed as "les jumeaux de l'ombre" (twins from the shadows).

After nullifying Steinbeck's ability, Dazai says "Oh, le salopard!~" (Oh, that bastard!~), as if he's sarcastically replying to Steinbeck's shock at Dazai's ability, instead of complaining about having to deal with Chuuya.

When Chuuya asks Dazai if he knows was a Pétrus is, Dazai actually answers and says yes he knows, it's an extremely pricey bordeaux (Oui, c'est un vin de bordeaux extrêmement coûteux).

Dazai call Q "the sleeping princess waiting to be saved" (la princesse endormie qui attend d'être sauvée). Chuuya sneers "yeah, talk about a sleeping princess" (ouais, tu parles d'une princesse endormie).

"Écoute, tant que Q sera en vie, vous aurez besoin de mon pouvoir pour désamorcer le sien; je vous serai des plus précieux, et la Mafia veilleras sur moi comme une tendre mère poule" (Listen, so long as Q is alive, you will need my ability to disarm hers*; I will be invaluable, and the Mafia will watch over me like a sweet mother hen.) (*Q is a girl in the French dub)

Skk's plans are called "Remords et crapaud" (Remorse and Toad), "Pluie derrière le treillis" (Rain Behind the Trellis), "Mensonges d'une fleur décorative" (Lies of a Decorative/Fake Flower) (side note: they all sound like one of them has to hide and/or cause a diversion...)

"Listen Chuuya... I have one last thing to ask you before I die..." (Écoute Chuuya... j'ai une dernière chose à te demander avant de mourir...)

Chuuya refers to using Corruption like it's a strategy name like the other 3 were just before. It's also called Pollution, which is the same word in both English and French. It sounds less cool than Corruption (which would also be the same word in French), but it does fit the tainted+ vibe. Dazai does later refer to it as "Chuuya's corrupted form".

Ô, pourvoyeurs de pollution noire, Autorise-nous à lui fermer les yeux à tout jamais. (O , purveyors of dark pollution, Allow us to forever close their* eyes.) (*singular, unspecified gender pronoun in French)

Today's quotes:

VF: Alors c'est quoi ce tentacule? Un caprice de la nature? (So what's that tentacle then? A freak of nature?) Eng: If it's not an ability, then what is it?

Dazai: Le choix te reviens, mon vieil ami. (The choice is yours, my old friend.) Chuuya: Le choix me revient, le choix me revient... c'est facile à dire ça. En plus, je sais que quand tu prononces ces paroles, c'est que nous n'avons justement plus d'autres choix. (The choice is mine, the choice is mine... that's easy to say. Plus, I know that when you say those words, it's because we don't have any other choices left.) Eng: I'll let you choose. // You'll let me choose? Whenever you say that, I never actually have another choice.

Chuuya: Je me suis servi de ce pouvoir parce que je te faisais confiance, et toi...! Tu as intérêt à me ramener à la base, si tu veux que je... te pardonne un jour... (I used that power because I trusted you, and you...! You better bring be back to base, if you want me to... one day forgive you...) Dazai: Tu peux compter sur moi, coéquipier. (You can count on me, teammate/partner.) Eng: I used Corruption because I trusted you. You... better take me... to the extraction point... // You got it, buddy.

[gotpineapple]

Under his mane (Part 8) // Tywin Lannister x Baratheon!Fem!Reader

This post contains NSFW content! Minors DNI

 When Tywin lowered his new wife to his bed, their bed, she was overcome with deep familiarity. She remembered her days at Casterly Rock, she remembered the way the Rock had turned into a home she desperately had sought back then.

 Great part of that home, that safety she had gained, was built by the man on top of her. For a moment she allowed herself to just feel that safety, feel his lips mould against her with his stubble gently tickling her.

 Tywin gently caged her, bringing himself to rest on his elbows, his hands going to stroke her hair as his forearms rested on the bed. He was a man of strong rough passion. He was not a shy boy trying to find what he wanted to give or receive, he was a man who deliberately knew how to bring women sobbing pleasure and he also knew how to get what he wished.

 But he knew the Doe in his arms. He knew of the starvation of intimacy she felt, oh he knew every inch of her. Now what he wished to give her was a moment of said intimacy. He wished to see the way her lips would swell and the way her chest would rise out of breath when he’d pull away.  

 But he was only so patient. His kiss gained more fire as he moved his hands to lift her thighs around his hips. His wife gasping around his tongue at the sudden movement.

 ”Tywin”, she moaned as he gently pushed at his chest to break their kiss. ”I am not the scared girl who offered her body to you years ago”, she starts as she begins to softly pepper kisses along his jaw till she reaches his ear.

 ”You taught me how good it felt t-to share pleasure”, she whispers pressing her cheek against his, gently whimpering as she rolls her hips, her bare core against the seam of his trousers. ”Oh please, let me enjoy that pleasure again. I will be your good girl ”, she almost begged.

 Tywins eyes go almost black as he takes a gentle hold of her neck to see her eyes. When he speaks his voice makes Y/n shiver: ”Then be a good girl and get rid off that shift and kneel on the bed”

 ***

15 years ago in Casterly Rock

 There were many things Y/n Baratheon had been called.

”The tainted lady”

”The Prey among the beasts”

”Lannisters whore”

 All of those names left a mark on the Gentle Lady’s back. It was like all of the words where lashes of a whip.

 But even as the lashes fell, she continued to smile. She visited the orphans of Casterly Rock, visited the elderly people, spend time with the maids of the garden and smiled as she helped them to plant seed into the fresh spring soil.

She became the lady the Rock desperately wished to have after the loss of their lovely Joanna.

 Her mind was not something to be soothed. She felt guilt. Whenever she looked at Tywin Lannister, all she could do was feel deep unrelenting guilt. She was a tainted name under his protection.

 She was a pest sown into his keep. What could she do to return the favour of all he had done? She had nothing to offer, as a third child and only daughter of his long gone friend. The only sister of the King who at some point lost his care and decided to abandon his sister to chase a winter rose.

 She has Stannis in King’s Landing and Renly in the Reach. Both who could not help her give Tywin anything he already didn’t have.

She was a girl of 21 summers. Young woman who was never to know the love of a husband. Never to know the feeling of a babe of her own in her arms. She was forever the tainted lady.

 Talking with Tyrion did not help. He himself was an excile in his own family and his thoughts on favours were heavily changed by his only way of getting affection: whorehouses.

 Many times she had to ask for him to cease his talking of such things, for they only made her uncomfortable. But somewhere in the depth of his speeches, she found an desperate idea.

 If the people were to call the Tywin’s whore, why shouldn’t she return his help with her own favour? She knew naught of intimacy. She knew naught of love making. But she was desperate to not live as a leech for the rest of her days.

 ***

The sun was already down when Y/n readied herself. Putting on a flowy lavender gown, nothing too revealing but more intimate none the less. Dapping some rose oil to her neck and wrists, she took a deep breath. She was afraid to face the pain again. The hurt, the taunting, the humiliation.

 She knew it wasn’t like that for everyone but how could she expect to be treated as a lover when she was offering herself like this?

 Timidly she smiled at her guard as the started the long painful walk towards the Lord’s chamber. All her life she had been a good girl. She had been kind and gentle, a little too curious, honest and well-read for a lady many septas would say, but she was never a lady someone would be ashamed of.

 But the thoughts ringing in her head as she walked in the light corridors, were only rooted in her shame of what she had become.

***

Arriving at Tywin’s door she asked the guards to announce her. She had been in his study many times prior and the guards did not seem at all phased to see her.

 ”Lady Baratheon”

The guard announces as he opens the door for her and lets her in while remaining rooted outside as he had been taught.

 ”My lord”, she speaks smiling as she walks to take a seat across from the Great Lion himself, at his desk.

 ”What ails you my lady?”, Tywin asks her without missing a beat. Dropping down his quil he leans back on his seat to take a look at the woman before him. She looked all but ready to go to bed in her soft thin gown, body bare of any jewellery.

 She would never visit him this late, never, unless there was something deeply ailing her already troubled head.

 ”I have come to make you a-an offer my lord”, she says never taking her eyes off of his hands, not daring to raise her chin and look into his eyes. Tywin could see from his seat that the woman was shaking. Even in the dim light one could see how her whole posture screamed distress.

 ”Go on”, he encourages, having no idea what this offer could entail. They had had no business regarding Storm’s end. It was something they usually discussed before he took it to the King. Be it a scandal but Tywin knew Y/n was more than capable of understanding what is good for the people of Storm’s end and how to make it sound pretty to her brother.

 ”You have done an enormous favour to me in taking me here my lord. I can never repay you for the aid you have given me.”, she starts and takes a soothing breath,

 ”I-I wish to offer my- my body to you, for all the good you have done for me. The God’s know I will not be anyone’s wife”, she whispered the end still never once looking at the Old Lion in the eye.

 ”I see”, is the only thing Tywin says. His words make tears of humiliation rise into Y/n’s eyes. How could she have been so stupid to think he would take such an offer.

 A Lord of his status taking another Lord’s daughter as a whore. She was making mockery of them both. ”I am sorry, my lord, forgive me for insulting y-”, before she can finish her sentence and scramble up from her seat, Tywin rises.

 He takes four calm steps to reach her side. Kneeling by her seat, he gently puts a hand on her cheek and turns her glassy eyes to look at him.

 ”I will not make you a whore, Y/n”, he rumbles quietly. ”I will not take a woman who trembles at the thought of letting me near her. You have no debt to me. I enjoy having you here, I have no desire to exploit your body”

 Y/n gulps and raises a trembling hand to play with the lapel of his coat. ”What if I desire you?”, she asks, the question a lot more bold than her own voice.

 ”Then you shall wait till desire overrules your fear, little Sparrow”, he whispers before rising and planting a gentle kiss against her head. ”I shall escort you back to your chambers, my lady”, he then adds and goes back to being the stoic lion everyone fears.

 ***

Tywin gazed upon his wife as she sat on her knees on their bed. The beautiful Lady Lannister, on her knees just for him.

 Shrugging off his coat, and undershirt he takes a seat next to her on the bed. Stroking one of his war roughened hands across her thigh and bottom. Giving her bottom a rough squeeze he takes advantage of her gasp and pulls her in for another drowning kiss.

 Y/n’s back bends as she tries to keep up with the passion of her Lion. Feeling naught but desire in the cage of his strong arms she moans as he moves his kisses to her neck where he whispers. ”Be a good girl and help your husband remove his boots”

 As Tywin lets her go, she swiftly kneels on the floor and removes his boots. Tywin  once again raises her chin and nods towards his crotch.

 With slightly trembling hands, she opens her husbands breeches and pulls them down as Tywin raises his hips to aid her mission.

 A shiver runs down her spine as her husband makes his next wish. ”Will you now pleasure your husband?”, and so she does. She takes Tywin’s cock into her hand and strokes it firmly till he is fully hard. A tender hand on her head encourages her to kiss the hard shaft up till she gently licks swollen head.

 Tywin cannot help the rumbling moan that releases from his chest as she slowly takes the head into her mouth and hollows her cheeks. Tywin’s hand only remains as an encouragement, they had long ago made it clear that if she were to pleasure him with her mouth: she is in charge of how.

 When she starts to see the small tremors in his abdomen, she halts her sucking and starts laying small kisses on the shaft again. ”Come up here woman”, Tywin says breathlessly as he sits up straight again.

 A squeak escapes Y/n as Tywin pulls her onto her lap and with fast rough movements maneuvers them on the middle of the bed, with him now on top of her.

 ”What a salacious little creature my wife is”, he teases and starts kissing collar, making sure to leave small marks behind as he does. When arriving downwards he starts sucking on her nipple.

 ”Only for you, Tywin”, she whimpers hips bucking against his cock. Her noises get louder as he continues on his assault, now deftly getting his palm on her other breast and taking the other nipple between his fingers, as he teases the other with his mouth.

 His hands encourage her hips, moving his own hips aside, he gets her to roll her hips against his thigh. Angling his thigh so that she will have no way to move but with rubbing her pearl against his rough thigh.

Soon he switches his assault the other way around, taking her left nipple into his mouth. As he does he lets out a rumbling chuckle as Y/n’s breathless whines get louder.

 ”Ty-Tywin, please, o-oh”, she whimpers as Tywin’s hands force her hips to move faster along his thigh. The friction hitting just the right spot as she lets out a high pitched moan.

 ”Is my little wife going to come? Go on, take your pleasure on my thigh, I can feel your quim sopping through your undergarments. Let it wash over you”, he encourages as her movements get more shaky and her noises louder.

 Tywin was no young boy, but he could have come just from the sight and feel of her rubbing her clothed little pussy against his thigh. ”T-Tywin! I’m-It’s- Tywin!”, Y/n incoherently squeals as her thighs start shaking and she reaches her climax.

 She grasps the Great Lion’s shoulders and pulls him tightly against her body as she rides her aftershocks. Tywin takes mercy on her, knowing the state of her head after such pleasure and starts gently kissing the side of her head.

 ”There we go my little sparrow, I have you. ”, he mutters against her, his other hand soothingly running up and down her thigh.

 Y/n takes her lower lip between her teeth and presses her face towards his gentle kisses. It felt good to be in his arms again.

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[juniperberries-canisroot]

MORTAL SANCTUARY

Summary: The one year 'anniversary' of Astrid's betrayal weighs heavy on the guilty conscience of Listener and Matron, Chantilly Leice.

Content warnings: Paranoia, regret, betrayal & guilt. Canon events, violence and death. First person PoV.

Context: I know Arnbjorn is scripted to die in game. In my story CL arrives just in time to save him. Everyone else dies thou.

Fun fact there is actually in game a NightShade plant by the escape tower. It's inside Solitide by the gate of the tower if you were using it to go outside. It's near the food stalls.

@tes-summer-fest

"You're part of the Family, after all. This, as you can see, is our Sanctuary. You won't find a safer place in all of Skyrim."

"Our Family, my dearest. Our Family."

Eight years. Eight years ago you told me that after I was recruited into the Dark BrotherHood. Family, safety. For seven years I was part of your 'family'. For seven years I did as you told. I served, and I killed, and I was part of your family. In some strange twisted way, you became the closest thing I ever had to a mother figure in my life.

But just like the people who were supposed to be my parents, you sold me off. A year ago you betrayed me. You saw me as a threat to your authority, your leadership. Years of loyalty meant nothing to you. I was nothing more than leverage in the end. And I still wasn't enough. My one purpose to you, my one final use, and I failed that as well.

I couldn't save them all. I couldn't save your family. I barely had enough time to protect the ones that survived. I am forever grateful for the ones who did, but I am forever haunted by the memories I have of those who didn't. The memories I have of them are tainted, thanks to you. I lost them. They're dead. It's my fault they died.

Do you know NightShade grows in areas associated with death? Areas where dead bodies lie. Places where someone was killed. Caves and homes that undead vampires inhabit. The exit tower you told me to take after poisoning the fake Emperor.

Some grow outside both Sanctuaries. There were always a few outside the Falkreath Sanctuary, even years before that day. Now, there's five more plants. Festus Krex. Gabriella. Veezara. Lis. You.

They others are doing well. Arnbjorn, Nazir, Babette, Cicero. There's been three new recruits since then.

I'm not doing well.

When I see a flash of black and red, my blood runs cold. Fear pumps through my veins faster than any drug could take affect. I instinctively reach for a dagger and search for a shadowy corner to drag them off to and slice their throat out. It's usually not a Penitus Oculatus agent, but there have been the rare times it was. Too many times for my comfort. What a sick irony that the BrotherHood and Oculatus uniforms share a similar colour scheme.

I'm constantly terrified that I'll loose them. That I'll come back to the DawnStar Sanctuary one day to find it ablaze, or that I will arrive far after the embers have died down, and find their charred corpses. That once again I will be too late to save someone.

They are the closest thing I have to a family, and I'm terrified at the thought of that. I'm terrified that if I say it aloud, if I think about it too much, they'll die. They'll be killed. And it will be all my fault again.

You were an idiot thinking you could go against somethin more powerful than you. I was a fool thinking I could allow myself to have a family.

Now I carry the Blade. I'm the Matron and Listener. Maybe it was supposed to be this way. I knew for years the way you ran the Sanctuary was wrong. Abandoning the Tenets, disregarding the Night Mother's authority. My authority, as Listener.

But what I wouldn't give for everyone to alive today. Arnbjorn said the others were already dead by the time I arrived. But that doesn't prevent me from thinking what could have been. If I was just a little faster, if I left a bit sooner.

I'll never have a family again. I can't allow myself to have a family, to cars for someone, anyone, like that again. Not after what happened that day. Not after you.

I hope you're happy with your decisions. I know I'm not with mine.

[earlgrey-aziraphale]

The thing about the Empty is the silence. Cas had forgotten.

He has felt loneliness before, and grief, too, like a gaping wound–he is millions of years old, that is nothing new. He has experienced nearly everything a being can, in his hundreds of thousands of human lifetimes. But this, this nothing–is unlike anything he’s felt since the very beginning of the Universe. He has always, even without his Grace, felt the electric-pulse presence of his brethren calling out to him, the ambient noise of Creation at large. Here, he is an angel beyond even Heaven’s reach–no gamma wave of thought, no solar flare of emotion can reach him. He has never been alone before, not like this.

It is like losing a limb, like going blind.

He looks out at the void. This is Eternal Sleep, for his kind, and it is long, and boring, and—empty.

He is straining to hear something, anything. His steps don’t echo, here-they’re absorbed by the nothing, nothing, nothing around him. He had gotten used to the noise on earth. The rustle of wind through trees, the squelch of wet earth beneath his boots. The rumble of an engine.

Silence, he knows, can drive humans insane. Left alone in the dark and quiet for too long, they begin to fear the sound of their own heartbeat. He has no heartbeat, here.

You have nothing, says his nightmare. It is wearing Dean’s face. You’re all alone.

Under extreme stress, the human mind will conjure voices from thin air, figures from the suggestion of a shadow. Lies, to remind the brain it is still alive. Castiel is not human. This is not a trick of his own mind–he has no need of earthly light, or sound, or sensation, and he need not conjure any. This is the Empty’s revenge. It knows his thoughts, his desires. It can see inside his memories, and it will corrupt each one until he has nothing left that isn’t tainted.

He shuts his eyes—even the ones that don’t exist in this form—knowing it will not be enough. He will see it anyway.

Dean is here, in the driver’s seat of the Impala. There is music playing.

There is no music, in the Empty. No twang of guitars, no thumping bass, turned high enough to feel in his chest. No hoarse human voice, singing along.

Come on Cas, you know the words.

He does. REO Speedwagon.

And I meant

Every word I said

When I said that I loved you I meant that I loved you forever

Where they are doesn’t matter–landscape after landscape blurs past, here an open midwestern road, there a pass between hills, pine trees stretching above. They had lived this day a thousand times, in a thousand places: a case behind them, and nothing but the road ahead of them for miles.

And I’m gonna keep on loving you

‘Cause it’s the only thing I wanna do

I don’t wanna sleep, I just wanna keep on loving you.

He doesn’t know how long it has been. Time goes a little funny, in the Empty. Somewhere, seconds or maybe years ago, Cas had told Dean he loved him, and for a moment—just a blink to even a human lifetime—he had been happy. He wonders if Dean was, in the end.

He takes in the stubble coming in at that familiar jaw, the softness of that hair in the late afternoon light—and it makes him want more than anything to touch. To feel the warmth of those thighs through rough denim, that stubble against his cheek. Not that he ever could have, before. He could never have had Dean Winchester—he could have the memory of those hands tapping a beat on the steering wheel, that voice calling him Cas—it felt more intimate, somehow, more like him than the one humans couldn’t pronounce, and angels rarely used.

Even that is gone, now. Beyond his reach.

We’re not looking for you. No one is coming. His nightmare turns to look at him like they’re sharing a joke, and it is so like Dean in the quirk of that eyebrow, that easy grin.

I know, he answers, simply. Castiel isn’t delusional—no one is coming for him, this time.

There are no more deals to be made.

[tekablade-chronicles-3]

things about the fell xenologue i wrote 3 months ago

spoilers for the entire thing of course :

Nel didn't lose her memory after sleeping 1000 years, which means Alear losing their memory was likely due to them being transferred Divine dragon power instead of their natural type, as opposed to Rafal and Nel both being Fell dragons, of the same father no less.

speaking of Alear, xeno!Alear is confirmed to have been a fully Divine dragon, which means either they're Lumera's blood relative, or adopted from within the same tribe. i like the latter option better.

also about dragons, why are the xeno!Fell kids born as twins and why would that not apply to other dragon tribes ?

why're the fell-tainted emblems speaking ? That was never explained was it ? ( i do love how much of a struggle it is for them though )

the fact that they can't even be cleansed ??

what happened to them in the end ? we know that Rafal split the power he obtained from them between him and Nel, but where did the bracelets themselves go ? Are they just left behind in mirror Elyos all on their own ? pretty dark if they've just essentially been put down forever in an empty world... ( i've been seeing some people say that the bracelet emblems teleported to our Elyos and THEN we woke them up, but i thought Marth said emblems COULDN'T withstand travelling between worlds ? unless all the bracelet emblems are like Sombron's Zero Emblem i don't see how that would happen. )

Zelestia is an ADHD icon, and reps intense outward display of emotion, and I love her ok. I met her for the first time and i was like, oh ! she's her own character, not "good Zephia", she just looks like her ! and i love that for her. there's something about her i really appreciate and i'm not sure what it is.

just felt "eh" about Gregory during the story, but watching his supports made him so much more interesting to me, now i'm endeared

( why the hell is his name Gregory btw, who thought that was a good idea ?? )

Nel likes Timerra's singing ! good for her.

i understand why the Four Winds are only recolors ( barring Mauvier who is literally the same in every universe ), but MAN i wish they got new outfits. also the naming convention makes no sense to me. why did only 3 characters get new names ?

in the same vein, i understand why all the other alt characters look basically the same with some minor changes but damn they really would've benefited from more change. i mean you have a model for Timerra without her ponytail accessories for example, now would've been the perfect time to use it. in fact there's models for all the characters without their head accessories. and would it have been so hard to make Hortensia's hair a solid color ? stuff like that.

i thought Alear was a little out of character with Nel at first, it's not really in their nature to retaliate in arguments, usually they'd just take it in stride and keep being friendly.

every 2 seconds i forget Rafal's name and i don't know why

[basiccortez]

Ghosts- S. Kiszka

Prologue word count: 1.k masterlist playlist warnings: mentions of suicide, death, guns, drinking, drugs, sex, anger, near death experience, murder.

Art by @capturethechaos

THIS IS AN AU. A complete work of fiction. Nothing in here is a reflection of how the boys act or how they are. It is purely an act of fiction.

After the sound of that final shot rang out, he looked around the chamber at the hanging dead body and at his best friend. His eldest brother had made his way up the stairs in silence, not bothering to look back at them. Danny gave his best friend a look, before nodding to one of the guards standing by to help him bring the dead body down. 

Danny undid the chains that held up Francisco’s corpse and let him drop to the ground with a thud. Sam jumped at the sound and quickly turned around, following up the same stairs his brother went to. Sam walked out into the backyard, seeing Josh sitting in a chair in the back. Two bodies were strewn across the ground, the aftermath of the tragedy that took place moments before. Sam stood next to his brother,  the sight almost peaceful, the white scene being tainted with blood splatters and bullet shells. 

“Why-” 

“He didn’t want to live without her,” Josh said, answering Sam’s question, “He wrote a note a couple days ago, changed some things around with the will. I think he knew all along something like this could happen.” 

“What do we do with them?” Sam couldn’t look away from the bodies. Her perfect white dress had a large blood spot from where the bullet had pierced her skin. 

“Reaper’s on his way,” Josh said, pushing himself up from his chair, “Gianni said they’ll decide on what they want to do with her, let us bury her in the family vault or they take her back to Italy.” 

Sam nodded, as Josh patted his shoulder before walking back into the house. Sam took in the silence of the backyard. His eyes clouded with tears as he sat down in the chair Josh was once in. Sam held his head in his hands as he sobbed. Sam didn’t allow himself to feel, he had been hiding his emotions for years, something he had to do when Jake showed up at MIT and dragged him home. 

Sam was angry at Jake. Angry that he had gotten his way out, something that Sam had wanted for years. Sam had seen this moment, but the roles were reversed. Jake was the one alive, his heart beating in his chest, his blood warm, and Sam was the one on the ground, a self-inflicted bullet wound to his head. 

“You fucker. . . you motherfucker!” Sam yelled out, “How could you fucking do this!? You coward! Your love got torn away from you and you make us all suffer! How the hell is that fair?!” 

Sam ran a hand down his face. He didn’t even know if he had tears to cry over Jake. All he could see was red. Red in anger, red in envy, and the red blood on the ground. He took a deep breath and pushed himself up from his seat, and made his way into the house. He didn’t even bother to look at the faces of his two living brothers as he went straight to his office. Sam sat down in his chair, looking at the bottle placed in front of him. The bottle of Irish Whiskey that was given as a gift to celebrate Jake’s engagement. Sam bit his lip, reaching forward and opening it. 

— — — 

It had been three years since that fateful day at the Kiszka Mansion. The images of the two lovers laying side by side in peaceful death were forever ingrained in the mind of Samuel Kiszka, the youngest of the three boys. He was the one who found Jake, and it took Josh and Danny to pull him away from the mafia leader's dead body. Josh had the lovers buried in the Kiszka mausoleum, side by side, like they would want. 

It took Sam months to get over that day. Every time he closed his eyes, the image of his sister in law falling into his brother's arms would play. Sam could still see the look of fear in both of their eyes, something he never wanted to see. Sam would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming for Jake and his wife, only to have Josh barge in and hold him, as he sobbed. 

He found solace though, drowning the images in booze and pussy. He spent most of his days staggering around the clubs fully plastered. Danny usually brought him home, carrying him bridal style to his room. Sam was basically useless to the operation of the Mafia, and he didn’t have an issue with that. 

If it were up to Sam, he never would’ve joined his family business. He wanted nothing to do with it, ever. He thought he had escaped it, going to MIT and studying software engineering. But after the death of Jake’s first fiancé, they needed Sam. Sam was too smart for his own good, being able to design and hack into software people only dreamed of doing. Sam had protested and begged his older brother to let him stay in school, to let him have a normal life, but Jake refused, leading to a huge argument between the two. 

“Just because you couldn’t protect your girlfriend doesn’t mean you have to ruin my life!” 

“I’m not ruining your fucking life! I'm saving it!” 

“No. you’re placing your guilt for not being able to save Katherine on me.” 

Jake stormed over and grabbed his baby brother by the neck, slamming his body up against the wall. Even though Jake was a little shorter, he was stronger, holding on to his brother's throat with a tight grip. Sam stuttered out breaths, gasping as he tried to get his brother to let go. 

“You will do as I say. I'm in charge. You got that shit, Samuel?” 

“loud and clear, Jacob” 

Sam finally snapped out of his mood after Josh got hurt. He broke down, crying to Danny in the middle of the night. He couldn’t lose anyone else in his family. Josh and Danny were all he had left, and he’d rather die than lose one of them. So Sam dove in full force into the business. With Jake gone, they all had to take on more responsibilities. Sam had taken over the financial side of things, splitting promoting duties for the various clubs with Danny. Sam had become a zombie of who he once was, helping build back relationships that had been broken and buried along with his brother.

--- --- ---

taglist: @myownparadise96 @jakeyboiiiiiii @gretavanbitches @baguettejuliette @maverick-rose @josh-iamyour-mama @weightofdreamz @gretasmokerising @peacefulfuckinarmy @oldermensimp @strugglingtodoshit @callmebymym @st4rdust-ch0rds @lvnterninthenight @caravelsparrow @allieboop @streamsofstardust

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[wayward-starway]

Haven’t used this blog in forever oops- To make up for that here’s a little look at one the StarWay’s biggest antagonists- Temno!!

Temno seen as something equivalent to Christianity’s devil within StarWaiian mythology. It’s said that thousands of years ago Sveltyy & Temno peacefully ruled over the StarWay together until Temno grew bitter, jealous, & sought to take over the StarWay all for himself. With an army of darkness by his side, Temno wreaked havoc on the StarWay until Sveltyy banished him & “the darkness” to the Wasteland, a barely habitable moon that orbits the StarWay. That’s how the tale goes, but is it actually true? Throughout the StarWay the protagonists learn of Sveltyy’s corrupt & tyrannical rule & it’s revealed that Temno never instigated a war for sole control of the StarWay- but Sveltyy did. Sveltyy tried to overthrow Temno & when Temno & his citizens were unable to successfully fight back they were banished & their image was forever tainted. Temno was painted as a villain, his subjects massacred by Sveltyy as “forces of darkness”, & Sveltyy as a hero & all kind god.

Time goes on, & after numerous failed attempts to escape the Wasteland Temno & his subjects are left to rot on for thousands of years. While most of his subjects die, Temno, being a god, never does. Instead he is left immobile & starving in scorching heat for thousands of years, watching his subjects die over & over while he is helpless to do anything. He grows vengeful & wants nothing more than to see Sveltyy suffer. Temno nearly kills himself in a last ditch effort to finally make it off the Wasteland (& actually does die for a brief period of time), & is finally successful with gaining a small amount of control back on the StarWay. The threat of Temno regaining large amounts of control of the StarWay prompts Sveltyy to create the Prophecy to stop him- the Prophecy that the main story follows. Although he is a victim, Temno’s vengeful attitude leads him to becoming exactly like Sveltyy. He manipulates & traumatizes vulnerable StarWaiians into helping him regain power, massacres the opposing god’s subjects by the thousands, etc. What I enjoy most about his character is that he’s a sympathetic villain who never gets redeemed, to the end he lets his hate consume him & loses track of the good intentions he once had. His actions of genocide make him too far gone to be redeemed, creating a dilemma where neither god is the rightful ruler of the StarWay, but which is the lesser of two evils.

Temno very recently got a redesign; his old design looked like this:

While I liked his older design, it didn’t stand out as “godly” at all. He looked nearly indistinguishable from your average StarWaiian despite being a god. So I gave him features not seen in the StarWaiian species, such as an extra pair of eyes, bat like wings that double as a second pair of arms, & a big arm tail used for gripping things! Oh, he’s also gigantic too

Early redesign concepts ^

Royal mask concept + his design before being banished ^

Extra limb concept work ^

There’s a bit more to his character regarding how gods claim mortal souls, how the types of souls they own enhances their powers, their mortality, soul lore in general, etc. But I’ll save that for another post since it’s decently complicated lol. For now all you need to know is that he was once a kind & benevolent ruler who was unfairly screwed over, & after thousands of years of suffering became fixated on revenge & became the very thing he hated the most~

Reshares appreciated original content never does as well as fandom content (hence why I like never use this blog) so I’d appreciate the extra reach :]

[darnedchild]

I had written a post about this the other day, then ended up deleting it because I don’t think I said what I was trying to say.  So here goes take number two.

I loved Harry Potter for years.  Wrote fanfic (my PotterLock stuff is probably only two or four? years old), bought stuff, all that jazz.   My tumblr archive probably has dozens of HP related posts.  Unfortunately, my kid still feels an emotional connection to HP and even though he’s a smart boy, we’re still trying to get him to process that JKR’s words and actions have tainted things to the point that we need to move on.  Diverting his attachments can be difficult and we’re trying to find a solution, until then, HP continues to have a presence in my house.

I can’t really do anything to change that?  That stuff is out there, the internet is forever and pretending it doesn’t exist is pointless.  I thought it might be a good idea to warn people who weren’t there for my Potter obsession phase that it existed and stuff might pop up now and again because my fics and posts are out there in the wild world and I know that HP can trigger really shitty feelings and worse in people.  I don’t want my blog to hurt people like that, so I wanted to give fair warning.

So, again, to sum up - JKR is a piece of shit, I don’t support her or anything she says or does, and the HP of now is not the HP I remember from before but there is literally nothing I can do to erase my decades long involvement in the fandom from years ago.  Not admitting it exists feels like trying to hide it, which is only going to hurt someone when it pops up with a “this you?” pic once I piss of the wrong person and a friend feels betrayed.

If knowing I have a HP past is disturbing for you and you need to cut me loose, please do.  I just want to continue posting stupid memes and crummy stories and fic without worrying that my ao3 works or my old Funko collection posts are going to pop up and hurt someone.

[mutatiio]

@mayxthexforce (from Obi-Wan for Maul)

When Obi-Wan opens his eyes, it feels like blinking. The transition from his awake self to the dream self is far smoother than he ever remembered it being. But that thought lasts only the few seconds it takes him to realize where, and when, he is. His mind completely overtaken by what were once his primary goals and thoughts at some point in his life that happened many years ago– twenty-six years ago, to be exact.

Bruck is right in front of him, running away. Obi-Wan is chasing him– right, he has to catch him, get him while Master Jinn is keeping Xanatos busy, make him tell him where they took Bant so that he could get her to safety. Bant. He has to save Bant. The reminder makes him push himself to his limit, nostrils flaring and heart hammering inside his chest as he chases after Bruck, refusing to allow there to be any more distance between them than there already is. Seven feet. Just seven feet. He chases Bruck down the stairs that ran parallel to the turbolift shaft that led up into the Jedi Council's tower. Their lightsabers alight and the only thing keeping the area illuminated– just two spots: one red, one blue, moving at inhuman speed. Bruck reaches the end of the stairs and rounds the corner sharply. Obi-Wan turns his lightsaber off, jumps the about ten steps he has left, boots squealing against the floor when he hit it, sliding a foot or two as he twists his body to face the way Bruck went and keeps chasing him the second he regains his footing, reigniting his weapon.

When his lightsaber lights up a small part of his surroundings again. He's not in the halls anymore, but in the Room of a Thousand Fountains.

Right now, due to the power-down, the waterfalls had ceased to run so all there was left were the structures and the pool, which hadn't drained at all. It is this realization that leads to him spotting a different shade of blue in the water, accompanied by a glint of metal. Bant is down there, chained to the bottom of the pool and sure to run out of air. Amphibians couldn't hold their breath underwater forever. They needed air just as much as anyone else.

"We had a connection that I can't explain. It wasn't the result of time, of yours spent together..." Obi-Wan's voice plays from the recorder device attached to Bruck's lightsaber. "It wasn't the result of secrets or confidences. It was something else."

"You loved her." comes Bant's response. A vulnerable conversation Obi-Wan had thought private, recorded and exposed to him now that Cerasi, the subject of said conversation, was dead, by someone he'd never particularly liked, but believed to be trustworthy in the way all Jedi are trustworthy, only for this betrayal to further taint the memory of his late friend.

"At least Bant kept her promise. She's taking your secret to the grave," Bruck taunts. "That's right Obi-Wan, Bant is dying. I won't have to do a thing. I'll just make you watch."

Obi-Wan's expression darkens. He turns his lightsaber off. Bruck swung at where he'd been standing, and hit nothing. He barely managed to turn his upper body in time to block Obi-Wan's attack, which came as silent and deadly as that of a predator. He didn't even ignite his lightsaber until he was less than a foot away from Bruck. Obi-Wan had trained his whole life up until now in defensive methods, he'd vowed to always fight to preserve life, and he'd promised Cerasi that he would dedicate the rest of his life to keeping peace. Yet, none of that matters as he attacks Bruck relentlessly, forcing the slightly younger Padawan back and up the rocky hill that made up the backside of the waterfall.

They reach the peak, lightsabers sizzling against each other and both pushing with all their might, unwilling to give the other any more terrain. But Obi-Wan is stronger. He shoves Bruck back hard enough to make him stumble and almost slip on the slippery moss that makes up the waterfall bed. A guttural sound, like a watery growl, echoes through the gargantuan room, and it is then and only then, as he watches the fear in the other boy's eyes, that Obi-Wan realizes that electricity has come back and that the water systems would come next–

The waterfall erupts back to life. The layer of moss once again acts against Bruck, stealing his balance from him as the pressure of the water sweeps him over the edge- but not towards the pools. He would have most likely survived if Obi-Wan had been backing him up towards the side of the cliff that led down onto the pools.

Obi-Wan rushes forward, too late to grasp Bruck's hand but just in time to watch him go down and hit several rocks, bones breaking and limbs twisting at impossible angles, before the fall stops when he hits the grassy ground. Bruck landed face down and yet, his face is still half facing towards Obi-Wan, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle. Obi-Wan stares, slowly brings himself back to his feet and turns on his heel, pale as the marble pillars that hold the temple upright, and makes his way down to the pool, jumping in and emerging about two minutes after, dragging Bant along with him, gasping for air as he emerges.

He awakens from the dream still gasping for air and still as pale as he'd been that day. Skin clammy and clothes sticking to his body as he sits upright and barely manages not to hit his head against the upper bunk, solely because at the same time he's sitting up, he's moving to stand, stumbling his way out of the shared quarters.

it's as seamless as waking. if he didn't know better, he might have mistaken this moment for reality. but he's been here before - though his first impression had been outside the temple. his second hidden away. both under the watchful eye of his former master. even with his foreboding presence, he does not register the force within the building the same. 

it had once been gnawing, scratching at the back of his skull, his mind static. a reaction to the lightside of the force, he'd decided. now it was more neutral. bordering on what he felt most days recently. 

it's one of those dreams. the shared connection he'd been shackled into by the force. with, of course, kenobi. both being and entity clawed at his memories, forcing him to relive and remember them. 

thankfully, this one seems to have nothing to do with him.

he can tell instantly that he’s surrounded by water. there’s a purity that emanates from it, the air fresh and pleasant. just how realistic were these ‘dreams’?? 

it takes him very little time to find the subject of this memory, his eyes adjusting to the darkness just as young - younger than on naboo - kenobi ignites his weapon. his previously darkened form is washed out by blue, his expression, even from this distance, grave and set. then he’s searching and maul follows his gaze when it lands. through the still water it isn’t difficult to make out the shape of a being. presumably stuck. 

" we had a connection that i can't explain. "

focus shifts back again. he knows, without a doubt, that this is kenobi’s voice. however, he does not recognise the other boy, the one illuminated in red and the source of this recording. then comes a second voice. 

" you loved her. "

judging from the wave of darkness, maul assumes that this had been a private conversation. one this boy should not have heard nor recorded. bant. the one in the conversation and likely the one in the water. or the topic of the discussion they were having. the former feels more likely - with forcing kenobi to watch. still, maul felt as though he was a step behind, like he was missing part of crucial context to truly grasp this situation. but there’s no time to ponder before the boys spring to action.

kenobi slips away into the darkness and maul’s eyes only adjust to track him just a moment before he’s striking viciously at the boy. he’s fighting in a way that maul has only seen from him once, though more concentrated now. anger and focus from wanting to save a life rather than frenzied fury from wanting to avenge one. the move is blocked, but is quickly followed by a flurry of others, forcing the ‘enemy' to retreat blindly backwards. 

maul followed behind them, intuition telling him how this encounter would end - for why else would he be seeing it other than guilt?? guilt, guilt, guilt. maul is beginning to suspect that this sentiment makes up all that kenobi is, more than blood and water, more than flesh and bone. his very being is so deeply entwined with it that it’s difficult to distinguish when it begins or ends. if it even does. if it ever will. 

guilt is a useless feeling. 

the battle has reached its climax. kenobi pushes the boy and, as if forewarning what is to come, he nearly slips. then came the growl and had maul not known better, he’d assume it came from kenobi rather than the water. 

then, as predicted, the boy is falling. the very battlefield he’d chosen working against him, his hubris killing him (maul should not judge, but he is). he moves to peer over the edge just moments behind kenobi, the telltale snap and crunch of bones marking the descent down. golden eyes stare, passive. the boy’s neck is snapped, his other limbs twisted oddly, too. 

dead, yet the air smells purer than before.

deserved, yet the guilt is clear within kenobi. 

maul watches kenobi from the corner of his eye though he is still facing the fallen enemy. he looks sickly. of course a jedi would not see this victory as it was.

he wakes as he had in the dream. seamless and easy, calm until it isn’t. the door shuts behind his begrudging partner. a moment passes before he rises and twists, pushing himself from his bunk to land firm, metal connecting with metal. and he follows, as he had before.

" kenobi. " maul says as he enters the ready room. it’s still unclear as to why the force has decided to connect them in this way. he has no desire to understand the intricacies of kenobi’s guilt and shame nor is he equipped to deal with the aftermath of him reliving each situation. there is one thing he is curious about, though. and what better time to ask- " who was she referring to?? "

[winniewings]

Her name is Sarah : Part 6 (Bucky Barnes)

Pairings : Bucky Barnes x original female character

Warnings : Past rape, protagonist was sexual abuse victim, past abuse, scars, blood .

Summary : Who could say that a normal night walk would change Bucky Barnes life forever, when he finds a distressed woman with blood stained clothes seated next to a New York’s street dust bin , holding her naked newborn baby in her arms staring at the blue eyed man with her vulnareble hazel eyes.

Part 6 (Part 5)

Time passed like chunks of frozen water were being churned out like a storm in a warm and cozy summer. From the car to the elevator, from the elevator to his apartment on the 20th floor. Nothing seemed real to him, walking beside this woman he had found on the street drenched in blood only a couple of days ago... who would have imagined that one day, they will be both standing in front of his flat waiting for Bucky to find the keys, a difficult task as he was carrying lots of things on him.

"Just a minute…" he spoke with an awkward voice, wanting desperately to kill this deadpan silence until he could finally find the key.

In reality, the woman wasn't even paying attention to the man's words or actions, as if there was only a soulless body of a woman standing, who's only motive left to live was her baby that was in her arms and no one else, not even herself.

"Come in... enter…" the brunet invited her after entering first in his apartment and dropping the baggage he carried on the ground.

The woman only stepped into his house when he had explicitly asked her to.

" Let me show you your room" The metal-armed man said, walking over to his bedroom that he had ordered to make more presentable for a woman.

"Well… my apartment has only one room, but it is very spacious, you will be very comfortable there"

"Is it your room?" The woman asked, slightly alarmed.

"But I won't sleep there… I only have my clothes in that place. I have bought a separate cupboard for you and your child" Bucky cleared his side, stopping his pace and turned to look at the woman whose eyes weren't meeting his, in trouble tainted with shyness.

"Then... where will you sleep?"

"On the couch, in the hall… out of the room. I promise... I won't hurt you... or disturb you. You can stay here for as long as you wish.. this is a safe place for you and your son" Bucky spoke softly, warming the lady to finally meet his light blue orbs, slowly feeling how his soul left his body as the color of her eyes came in sight of his orbs. She was silently glaring at this kind man, wondering whether this was real…or just a dream.

Bucky found a lack of trust in them, but he could easily understand it. Anyone would doubt his intentions, and much more if in front of him is standing a woman who has been abused already for many ,many years. Nonetheless, the lady nodded and followed the man till his room ,lowering her eyes to the ground and shifting them time to time to stare at her sleeping baby.

Bucky opened the door to his bedroom, revealing to her eyesight a very neat and tidy enormous dormitory.

"Do you like the light colors of the decor?" The brunet asked the lady and immediately bit his lip for asking such a silly question out of a desperate need of praise for making an effort to turn his dull and depressing room into a more female oriented thing consisting of light pink bed covers, a new white cupboard and a fresh flowers bouquet he ordered, from which a pleasant aroma was filling the room as they stepped into it.

Getting no response from the woman, he realized that the serious lady did not hear this joke of a question that slipped out from his mouth .

"This room is yours from now on. The night table, the drawers, that white cupboard, they are all empty for you to keep your stuff there. The brown cupboard is the only one that has my things, everything else is yours to use. I'll bring your bags from the hall" Bucky declared, while the Amber eyes stared at him from the corner of her eyes with her head down low ,feeling miserable for having to stay at someone else's place… in someone else's bedroom. So miserable, her brow furrowed in pain and shame, whilst she turned her head to a side watching the man leave her side, very discreetly.

Walking slowly towards the bed, carrying her sleeping bambi in her arms, she placed him on the mattress and took a seat herself on the edge of it. Her heart was breaking more and more as the surroundings of his room were becoming more familiar in her memory.

She wordlessly watched the man who brought her here, arranging her clothes and her newborn's stuff in the furniture as her limbs were too weak to move due to the postpartum depression and her own physical suffering.

Bucky did not even ask the woman to arrange her own clothes because he knew that she was unable to do so and did not want to make her suffer. However he knew that the joy she felt in carrying her child in her arms was the only time when she could do such a task, as the angelic image of her son made her depression less obvious.

" I think you should take some rest now... I won't disturb you anymore" Buck said ,flashing the lady with one of his kindest smiles, before leaving his room.

As soon as Bucky came out in the hall he rang Natasha, but she did not pick up his phone. So he tried Wanda's cell phone number.

"Hey Wanda!" Bucky exclaimed, finally hearing a human voice from the other side of the phone. "Hi Bucky, what's up?"

"Wanda I need your help…"

"Help? Mine? What happened?"

"Don't ask so many questions now, I'll explain everything to you at my apartment. Please come soon. Oh…and please... buy the smallest size of diapers you can find in the market" Bucky spoke, remembering the mistake he had made while buying diapers for the baby when the shop assistant got busy, that he only came to know when he was arranging the things in the drawers.

"Diapers? For who?" Wanda exclaimed.

" For a baby…"

"For a baby?! Bucky tell me, what on earth is going on?" Wanda demanded, highly puzzled.

"Please Wanda, do as I say. I swear I'll tell you everything when you come here" Bucky said, before cutting the phone and coming back to reality to process everything that has happened in the last couple of hours.

His body crashed itself on the sofa as a house made out of cards crumbled and breathed deeply. However, he did not have much time to process the sudden changes as Wanda began desperately ringing on Bucky's doorbell forcing him to jump up from the sofa to open the door as fast as he could in order to prevent the nameless lady from being disturbed.

"Easy, easy Scarlet witch! You will wake them up" Bucky whispered, after opening the gate and letting her in.

"Wake up? Who is here?" Wanda interrogated Buck in a normal voice, and was so curious after dropping the diapers bag on the ground that she rushed into Bucky's room, opening it with a jerk, waking the new mother from her nap as she had immediately fallen asleep in a fetal position after the brunet had left the room. Nonetheless, the baby was still sleeping by her side.

"I'm sorry!" Bucky excused instantly, trying to calm the shit scared woman who had lifted her back up from the mattress and placed her protective hand on her sleeping baby's chest. "There's nothing to be afraid of… she's my friend, Wanda"

Wanda's astonishment had stolen all the words from her mouth as she eyed the brutally beaten woman and her baby.

"Bucky…who ?, who is this woman? And a child?" Wanda fumbled in utter shock.

Notes:

hi guys!!!!!!!!!! hope you all are doing well, thanks a lot for all the support you have been showing me and this story , it really means a world to me. So this chapter was filled with first meetings , and the next one will have one too... so a little chaotic encounter will be taking place, but not to worry much about... hope you are enjoying the story, and please, dont forget to write two words of encouragment for me , reblog, and hit the like button !

ps. oh , and i am not a medical proffessional , so dont take anything medical seriously, its just fiction.

Let me know in the comments bellow if you wish to be added in the tag list.

Tag list

@void-imaginations

@i-can-do-this-all-dayy    

@lokiandbuckysdoll  

@vbecker10    

@vickie5446  

[ins0mnia-an0nym0us-au]

so i watched The Sandman episodes 1-3

so far so great

amazing imagery. great acting. fantastic writing.

will be do a couple more parts of this

SPOILERS BELOW THE READ MORE

have some non-spoiler completely random out-of-context teasers

oh no. i can already tell the internet is going to simp so hard for this weird gangly man

why is this Priest so relatable? if i knew Jenna Coleman - i too would be asking her for drinks at every chance

oh no. i can already tell the internet is going to simp so hard for this weird gangly man

and as a lesbian i cannot fathom why

*cuts to man (The Corinthian) taking eyes from someone*

oh no. another one

but for the irredeemable sort apologists

*small child appears*

i know that boy... MILES - FROM BLY MANOR

*proceeds to remember "stop being weird" line from Flora and snorts*

also who calls their dad Magus???

*proceeds to learn about the dad*

ah. well.

you didn't get Death you dimwit. why does this idiot keep asking the King of Dreams for his dead son??? he's the King of Dreams! he can't raise the dead!

*cackles at Ethel robbing Roderick blind cause he wanted her to have an abortion and probably would've forced her into it*

good for her

also my gay ass immediately picked up the tension between Alex & Paul despite them only have 0.5 second together

let's all be honest Alex should've stood up to his dad years ago. maybe even killed him but abusers have such power over their victims - it's sad to see a good soul become tainted by such evil

i think Alex's biggest mistake was not letting Morpheus out immediately with an apology. though im not sure he would've been forgiven for killing Jessamy

i like to think Morpheus could see the regret on Alex's face and if he'd been let out immediately he would have perhaps not forgiven him but understood that without his father there Alex wasn't afraid to be good

*sees flying Gargoyle and learns his name is Gregory*

im attached - nothing shall harm Gregory

*watches Gregory sacrifice himself*

that was rude af and no the baby Gargoyle (Irving) doesn't make up for it... even tho he's adorable

*Jenna Coleman appears bisexually on screen*

i cannot be held responsible for what i may say or do. this woman is amazing and i've loved her since Doctor Who

why is this Priest so relatable? if i knew Jenna Coleman - i too would be asking her for drinks at every chance

ma'am you can have not just my top but also my heart. soul. wallet. shoes. keys. EVERYTHING

that demon just said fuck that flesh suit - it's too small. that was a crazy cool way to visually show a demon being exorcised from a human while like failing to save the human

why did Patton Oswald have to voice this raven. why couldn't it have been someone more regal sounding?

Ethel really made a good life for herself by herself and told The Corinthian to eat shit

ASTRA LOGUE?! yes hi. you're alive in Legends of Tomorrow so it's ok sweetie. we're gonna forget this whole. severed hand thing - repression

JENNA COLEMEN KISSING WOMEN WILL FOREVER BE A HIGH MOMENT IN LIFE

fuck. the allegory of Dreams being like drugs...

good to know that all the Constantines are self-loathing people who fuck up all their relationships. Rachel might've been an actually good person but it should've been her choice if Johanna was worth the risk or not

REMUS LUPIN??? excuse me SIR? what are you doing here?

*stressing out as soon as Ethel gives John the protection amulet*

ma'am. your son is obviously unhinged. this was a bad idea. well. now people are exploding and there's The Corinthian being nice to him. this is all to hell so fast

*Morpheus proceeds to go to Hell*

heheheheheheheheheheh *sweating*

TBC

[threadwitchpenelope]

Two Week Notice

"Go away, Az."

"Lucky, please, hear me out."

Penelope slammed down the box of supplies she was holding and rounded on her ex, a snarl on her lips. "No. You don't get to call me by that stupid fucking pet name anymore. You lost that right ages ago. And for the record? I fucking hated it. The whole time."

Az held up his hands and took a step back. "Sorry! Sorry. Penelope. I just...I realized how bad I fucked up. I want to make things right. Come on, what happened to us? We were going to get married?"

She scoffed. "What happened? Are you stupid? You cheated on me! And then you had the gall to tell me that you'd still consider marrying me if I was 'cool' about it! You asked me if I could blame you! Do you have any concept of how fucked up that was?!"

"We both said a lot of things in the heat of the moment-"

"You said it a day later as I was moving your things out."

Az sighs like he's tired. Like she's the one making this difficult. Which, to be fair, she is. But like hell she'll let him make her feel bad for it. She does pull back. Composure.

"You know what your problem is, Az?" She looks at him. He looks the same, if a few years older but on closer inspection, his clothes are rumpled and worn. His hair is greasy. He's had a bad time of it. Good. "You treated loving me like a job. Like...like I was one of your clients. You did what I asked you to do but only that. The bare minimum."

He bristled. "Hey! I brought you flowers, I took you on dates!"

"Did you do them because you liked doing it? Or because you were taught that they were necessary?" She narrows her eyes. "Were you ever happy when we were together? At all?"

He presses his lips into a firm line. "Of course I was. I...Yeah, okay, I thought the flowers were dumb and didn't like the places we went to when you got to pick. But that's what love is! Compromise!"

"And you still cheated. Happy people don't cheat on the person they intend to marry. Admit it...you never loved me. I just checked all your boxes for what a spouse is supposed to be." She sighed. "Az. You're not a bad person. You made some awful decisions...but I'm not looking to hire someone for the role of my partner in life. And I'd rather be alone forever than settle for someone who's okay with just enough."

Az stared her down but he, too, slumped. He laughed, rueful and charming like always. "I had to try. It's been awful without you. But you have my number? If you change your mind?" He offered out a post-it note with a number scrawled on it.

She smiled at him and accepted the paper. "Goodbye, Az. Please don't come back. I wish you well."

"...Bye, Penelope." He turned, put his stupid hat back on, and walked out the door. Penny locked it after him. She turned, went into her office, and let herself collapse into her chair. She wouldn't cry here. She promised herself she wouldn't taint her shop with tears again.

She glanced at the post-it. She crumpled it and tossed it into the basket. It bounced off of the rim and rolled under a nearby table. Penny left it where it was. She'd get rid of it later.

Instead, she closed up and packed her things to head home. It was Purpled's turn to cook and Dream or Sapnap or Niki would want to stop over for leftovers or cards at some point in the evening. She let Az's visit slip out of her mind for the time being.

She had to keep moving forward. For her own sake.

[ofpokemon]

@allhcart continued

With Touya as leader, the two had found themselves at the heart of Nimbasa, not too far from the Ferris wheel they had taken a ride on together all that time ago. He could have told N what his thinking was, thinking that perhaps going for the Ferris wheel would bring up feelings and then conversation would come to follow, but he was too tongue-tied seeing the other at all. He wasn't sure what to say. He had even grabbed N's wrist without thinking and said to come with him. He probably didn't really like being touched, right? He didn't really think about it. So much was going through his head right now. He just didn't want N to leave again. But now he worried he might be being too much. "Yeah. It is. I ... still come here a lot, you know-" "- thinking about everything and asking myself if I could have done anything different back then. I wish I could have helped more ... so you wouldn't just go off by yourself like that. I hope you weren't alone too long." He didn't want to say just how long he searched, how he left his family and friends, or just how much he worried, it might be too much. He always told himself he would solve that situation, that he would help N be introduced to the real world outside of what Plasma told him, but then he wasn't there - he just didn't know what to do with himself. It was difficult to just let things be. His insides crawled with anxiety. "I, uh -- Sorry, by the way... for just grabbing you like that... a bit much after just seeing each other after forever... right?"

Hesitantly, he loosens his hold, grabbing one hand with the opposite in an attempt to ease its shaking. "...Sorry..."

Admittedly he was quite shocked to be grabbed. Instincts said to rip his arm away and keep it close to his body, but he managed to overpower that feeling and let Touya lead him. Everything felt so odd.

To be back here. In the amusement park. Funny, he had been so excited to be here the first time two years ago. But now it was strange, almost as if the memory of it was tainted.

Here they stood in front of the ferris wheel.

"Touya." he pulls his arms back to his side, at rest, like when he was at the castle with Ghetsis. So afraid to let them be.

"I know you wanted to help. I genuinely think there wasn't much you could do." he admits, looking up at the ride, taking a deep breath at the memories it dredged up in him. How terrible, the memory being tainted. "I was deep in it at the time, I needed to want help to receive it."

He clears his throat.

"Thank you. For still sticking by me even after everything has happened. Everything you got dragged into."