#Another Inch of Your Life Sacrificed

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Seeker of Cradles.

He swore to protect them. His children, his princess, his country.

Lives are precious, and he will not see them snuffed out prematurely.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

Lilia acts before he can think.

He pays no mind to the audible gasps of the senators, to Baul’s worried pleading. The only voice he listens to is the one that draws him like a moth to a glowing flame.

It’s a shrill cry, the sound any infant makes. But the sob is filled with an overwhelming sadness, a deep desire that resonates with him. Lonely, longing for love.

It breaks his heart, makes him tear up.

“Wait for me!" he shouts. "I’m coming to you right now...!”

He thunders up the steps of Cradle Tower, bracing himself against the lightning hurtling his way. His hood is thrown off, hair whipping, slapping him in the face and standing on end. Lilia fears no man--but in the presence of such sheer, raw power, he's compelled to cower.

He soldiers through, forcing himself up another step. Right as his foot connects, a wild bolt comes down hard, striking him.

Lilia lets out a guttural cry, his small body keeling over. Every fiber of his being screeches in pain.

"Vanrouge-dono...!!"

He stays stationary for one long, awful moment. Then--a sharp intake of breath--and he miraculously rises on trembling legs.

"H-Hah..." he grits out, clutching onto himself. "Is that... Is that all you've got?! It'll take a lot more than THAT to take me out. Your mother has made me deal with tantrums far worse than this!!"

Lilia resumes the arduous climb. More lightning is lobbed at him. Wincing, he wills his aching muscles to weave as best he can around the incoming attacks.

He's nearing the top of the stairwell now, where the power is most concentrated and the wind howls like a banshee. Lilia raises his voice, calling over the storm.

"Are you upset because no one's paying attention to you? Well, you're wrong!! Everyone... Everyone is terribly worried about you!!

"You're such a spoiled child, rejecting your grandmother's magic. Do you know what will happen to you if you don't take it?! You'll die. You'll DIE, and all the people who sacrificed themselves so you could live was for nothing. You don't have the luxury of choice!! You MUST live!!"

The future depends on you.

He doesn't know if the unborn child can understand him or not. It must, to some extent, because the screaming in his head escalates to a frenzied pitch. A strong gale nearly knocks Lilia off the tower--he grasps onto a column and inches closer to its treasure.

The dark, speckled egg floating inside of a barrier.

"You stubborn thing!! Lilia scolds, pushing against the magical shield. His palms burn, as if coated with acid. "If you still refuse... then take me instead of Maleficia...!! I'll give you everything."

He pushes, the barrier holding firm. Pain climbs up his forearms, eating him alive from the inside out. He feels his energy being leeched, his flesh screaming, on fire, as it is sucked out.

"My love..."

The barrier shudders, shakes.

"My magic..."

His biceps are searing, his blood, molten.

"My life...!!"

A crack.

"Accept it all, Malleus...!!"

It breaks.

Lilia falls through, arms extended toward the egg. He entraps it, hugging it tightly against his chest. It’s warm. Malleus is warm, and Lilia can feel a faint flutter of a heart on his skin. Contentedness floods him, even as he feels the pull of magic as it is drained and hungrily devoured.

The egg gives off a green glow from within. The light grows brighter and brighter, until—

“Kyuuuuuuuuuuu!”

Suddenly, an explosion of blinding white. The shell splinters and sheds.

There is no egg in Lilia’s arms, but a lizard with raven scales and a violet underbelly and spines. It blinks up at the general through round, reptilian eyes, belching a line of emerald fire.

“A-Ah… You are…” Lilia’s knees go weak. He falls to the ground, still cradling the baby to him. “Malleus…! You’re here at long last. I… I-I…”

He doesn’t realize it, but he has started to cry uncontrollably. Fat tears dribble down his cheeks and land on the baby dragon’s hide.

Lilia allows himself to wail. It’s ugly, full of raw emotion. Less human and more like the cry of a hideous beast.

From below, cheers and praise float up to him.

“Our hero!”

“Congratulations, Vanrouge!”

“The prince owes his life to you.”

Their words sting his head. The world wavers, wildly distorting--Lilia can't tell if it's his tears blurring his vision or not.

He crumples over with a groan. "M-My head... Agggh!"

"Kyuuuu?" Malleus pads a claw onto his cheek, confused.

The senator's voices are growing louder, angrier.

"VANROUUUUUGE!!"

"What has he done?! This is going to be a scandal--a scandal, do you hear me?!"

"Oh, to think that a disgusting bat has tainted the noble Draconia bloodline...!"

The contradictory shouts mix. It feels like there are fists beating his skull in from both sides. Lilia hangs his head, pulls at his hair, tries to understand the clashing sounds.

That's when he senses the presence of a shadow standing over him.

"I’ve found you at last, Lilia.”

He slowly raises his eyes, careful to keep Malleus guarded with his arms. There is a man in black robes towering over him, his mouth fixed in a frown. A pair of horns protrudes from his head, crowning his ominous yet regal aura.

“What… Who are you?!” Lilia demands of the stranger. “That face, those horns…!”

They're just like Levan and Meleanor's.

The stranger ignores his question. His expression has morphed from displeasure to anger. "Insolent fools!! How dare they speak ill of you. There will be severe consequences for this.”

The air stirs, chilling. Thunder crashes in the distance, seemingly in response to his fury.

He regards Lilia again, his voice dropping to a dangerously dulcet coo. “Ah, but you needn't concern yourself with them."

He takes a stride forward, and Lilia shrinks away. "S-Stay back! I'm warning you...!"

"What sort of a dream would you like to have this time, hmm?" he asks nonchalantly. "A dream in which mother and father are still by your side? A dream where you can live freely with your children? A dream for you to find true love? Just say the word, and it is yours."

With each suggestion, Lilia backs up further and further--until he is nearly at the platform's edge. Wind blows from below, sending hair and fabric flapping.

Here is the devil, come to tempt, and the jaws of death behind him.

The stranger bends down, his smile serpentine and eyes iridescent, twisted with obsession. Charming as a snake. He extends an arm, palm open. "Come, Lilia. Take my hand."

“FATHER!!”

CLANG!

A bolt of silver arrives, expertly blocking Malleus's outstretched hand. He stumbles back, glaring at the two bodies that put themselves between him and Lilia.

“You are…”

“Are you alright?” The quiet question comes from a boy with aurora eyes—clear as a cloudless sky.

Silver.

“Lilia-sama, stand back!!” His partner, Sebek, barks, baton at the ready. “We will protect you!”

“What nuisances,” Malleus snarls. “Still you insist on disrupting these dreams? It is a hopeless endeavor.”

“Maybe it is.” Silver tightens his hold on his own baton. Resolution threads his voice, and he stands his ground against the encroaching monster. “But we will never stop trying until we’ve broken through your blessing.”

“Bless... ing?”

The single word is like magic. One droplet rippling in a pond, setting off a chain reaction.

Memories fire off—the departure, the packing, the party, well wishes, the thorns. Someone screams, jet black tears streaming down their face. The wrath, the hurt.

“I DON’T WANT TO LOSE YOU!!”

The fog lifts from Lilia’s head, and the world clears. The identity of the horned stranger, the same as the baby dragon he holds.

Malleus… It’s you. It was always you.

Lilia gives a shaky laugh. "This is no blessing, boys. It's a curse."

Malleus glowers. “… You’ve awakened, haven’t you?!”

“That’s right. It seems I was dreaming for quite some time too—but I’m alright now, thanks to Silver and Sebek~”

“Father…”

“Lilia-sama!!”

“You too then… You’ve decided to turn traitor on me.” He hisses it, loathes the taste of treachery.

“No, Malleus.”

“Kyuuuuuu?”

Lilia steps beside his students—a general joining his knights. Ruby meets emerald, glittering with defiance.

“We’re going to save you, simple as that 🎵”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #Malleus Draconia #Silver #Sebek Zigvolt #Diasomnia #I've been dreaming... #book 7 spoilers #book 7 part 6 spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst countdown #twisted wonderland countdown #twst anni #twisted wonderland anni #twisted wonderland anniversary #twst anniversary #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines

[read42]

I sigh, my legs falling freely softly swaying, as I sit on the desk contemplating my life or the lack thereof. Vader looks at me silently and speaks up, "what is bothering you, my precious star?" I look at him wondering if he could be serious.

"My life has been stolen" I reply.

Vader looks at me coldly "No I have brought you here to this palace and provided you with wealth and luxury" he pauses glancing around, "look at all the beautiful things we have here".

I scoff, "beautiful things? What about my freedom? What about that or love? REAL love."

"My dear wife, my love for you is true. You are a rare beauty, and I will take care of you. Your freedom must be sacrificed for you to understand my desire to keep you safe."

He approaches me and puts his arm around my shoulders.

"Do you not love me?" He questions.

I laugh loudly causing him to look at me in anger.

"No. Not at all. You are psychotic" I smile sarcastically.

He smiles coldly. "There is no need for harsh words" he pauses.

"I have given you a privileged life, and you will learn to love me in time. Now, enough sadness, no more tears."

I scoff for a second time. "I will not shed tears over the likes of you."

"My little star, your defiance does not entertain me. Do you not understand the consequences of your actions?"

He walks in front of you now, his stature towering over me.

"I will not be talked to like I am some common pest. I will be loved and appreciated."

"Careful you sound desperate." I say snidely.

"My star, you must understand it is your place to make me happy, to please me." He leans down close to me, his face is just inches from my own, his breath fanning on my neck.

"I am a Sith Lord. I am not to be disappointed."

"A shame because you certainly disappoint me my lord" I hiss out.

He grips my chin tightly and looks into my eyes and for a split second, I can feel his anger. He takes his other hand and smacks me across the face, his voice cold and calm.

"My darling little star, I do not take these insults from you lightly."

I grunt in pain at the impact.

"I am not to be defied." He says

his expression softening a touch as he looks at me, his breath and face close to mine.

"Star please do not make me punish you again." I shiver in slight fear.

"I hate you" I say venom in my words.

he smiles and caresses my hand, his expression now seemingly showing real care or something similar to it.

"How could you ever say that to me? After all that I have given you?"

"Your crazy do you understand this? You are crazy." I spat out at him.

"My precious little star, you must learn to respect to me. I have been far too generous with you, and you have taken advantage. No more." He grabs me and lifts me up to his eye-level, his breath inches away from my face.

"What are you going to do?" I question him

He looks me dead in the eyes and I swear I can see in his mind, he's trying to decide what to do and is contemplating different cruel punishments, I'm sure of it.

"I... I will punish you, my love. But I will do it only because I love you dearly, otherwise I would never."

I laugh dryly, "You do not love me. This is obsession".

Vader smiles again, his expression changing from one of care to one of sadistic amusement, his eyes looking through me with pleasure and amusement

"My star, you are right. In fact I do not love you, I desire you. After all, the feeling of possession drives me more than the feeling of loving another."

his eyes assess me up and down whilst staring at me with clear lust in his eyes

"You're sick" I whimper slowly inching back

He leans down to me and whispers....his lips right next to my ear, "I am, aren't I? Oh how I love it."

His tone is dark, his smile evil, "and now, my love, it is punishment time." he smirks

"No wait!" I all but scream.

I'm pinned down to the wall behind me and he moves in much closer then before as if he was about to give me a kiss. His breathing is shallow and he is looking at me with some type of hunger

"No use trying to beg my little star." he whispers "your protests arouse me. Now, I am going to show you what a punishment is like."

"You can pretend all you want Vader... but I will never be her..."

The expression on his face turns from amusement and lust, to anger and frustration.

"Yes, I know, my dear. I will never have the real Padmè and the love she felt for me. You are nothing to me but a sad replacement that I will now have the pleasure to abuse."

"She'd be disgusted and so disappointed" I say trying to play on his emotions. He doesn't bat an eyelash at you, "I can't replace her and you know it!" I begin to panic.

"Oh, don't worry, my dear. I do not intend to make you into her. But, because you do remind me of her so much, I will remind myself of her through you." his grip on me tightens, he brings his lips a centimeter away from my own.

My heart thunders in my chest.. "what if I can learn to love you?!" I start trying to weasel my way out of this one.

"My dear, you do not need to learn to love me. I am your husband, and you may not have any choice in this matter. You will love me, or I will teach you to." his eyes scan up and down the length of my body, his breath heavy and shallow. His grip is very tight.

"Or rather...make you love me."

I knew I was screwed.

#star wars #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #dark side #darth vader #unburnt vader #crispy vader #one shot #Vaders husband material #ani x you #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #unburnt vader x reader #Star Wars x reader #may the force be with you #fiction

[dreamkidddream]

Wedding Vows || Jester

Another day, another character that I’m sadly simping for from ManlyBadassHero’s gameplay 😵‍💫 reader is gender neutral!

CW: blood, mentions of death

You never really thought about marriage.

Or rather, you never had the choice to think about it.

It was some people’s dream to get married- to be dressed up as their lover gazed upon with so much adoration, soon taking their hands and sealing their eternal love with a kiss. People fantasized about the ceremony, having all of their loved ones beam with joy to see them with their soulmate, being together until the ends of time.

It made you bitter every time you think about it.

Your choice would have already been made for you. Being the child of a royal family, all of your choices were made for you- even the one you would marry, with no regard to true love.

When you walk down the aisle, you wouldn’t be beaming with joy. Your heart wouldn’t be beating out of excitement, your cheeks wouldn’t be hurting from smile so much- it would all be out of dread. To know that the little freedom you would have would be sacrificed for the sake of “your people”- no, it was being sacrificed because that’s what your parents desired.

It was all under the guise of doing what’s best for your people, but it was only doing what was best for them. What they wanted. Your desires were never brought into consideration, always being told what to do and never asked about what you wanted to do.

And then they betrayed you.

The child who always did what they were told without talking back, who always followed their orders with a bow and smile, who tried to do everything right- all betrayed by your own flesh and blood.

Killed by the very people who gave you life.

It was sickening- how could they do that to you? Why would they do that to you?

You wanted answers, you deserved answers, and you wanted them to feel every inch of pain and suffering that you went through-

“Ohhh, someone’s in a rather feisty mood.”

You flinched when you heard his voice.

“Just- leave me be Jester.”

“Whatcha thinking about?”

“Nothing that concerns you.” You shot, trying to calm yourself. Ever since you came into contact with this demon, it was starting to get harder to contain these thoughts. It seem so easy to delve into them deeper and deeper with him around, and you can’t tell if it was of his doing or not.

And it scared you at how fast they would consume you.

“Oh but I do think it concerns me. Thinking about how Mommy and Daddy Dearest got their own kid killed again?”

You grit your teeth.

“I know that look all too well. That sweet look of utter betrayal- ah, it fits you so well. I can’t help but want to squish these widdle cheeks everytime I see it!”

He brought his glove to your face, giving your face a squeeze. You went to smack his hands away but he was faster, grabbing your wrist.

“You want them to pay for what they did- there’s no hiding that. Not like you can hide anything from me anyway.” Jester giggled. “It’s so obvious- that bubbling rage inside is so delicious. It just makes your soul all the more appetizing.”

“So why don’t you save us both the time and devour it now?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Jester pouted, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes. “No, no- don’t tell me you forget about our contract!”

Then his tone dropped, “I’ve got no plans on leaving ya anytime soon.”

That contract- you’ve heard all of the tales and consequences of making a deal with a demon, but you felt like you had no choice. You had no memories, no where to go, no one to trust-

Jester was the only person there for you, the only person that was willing to help. He had his own ulterior motives but so did you.

And if it took selling your soul to finally get some answers, to finally get your revenge- then so be it.

And it would be with Jester by your side.

“Such an interesting human- I’ve haven’t had fun like this in decades!”

Jester took you by your hands and spin you around, then dipped you below, hands wrapped delicately around your waist.

You were left breathless his face came closer, ruby eyes glinting mischievous. “Besides, don’t you remember what I said?”

Jester brought you back up and then kneeled down, his fanged smile growing wider, no longer trying to contain his giggles. It was unnerving, and even more so at how well your hand fits in his.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his crimson ones, the warmth of his lips on the top of your hand bringing a chill down your spine, reminding of your sealed fate.

“Till death do us part darling.”

#dream queued this! #dream rambles about jester 🤡❤️ #trapped with jester game #trapped with jester #jester x reader #trapped with jester x reader

[ateez-himari]

Will To Power Dance Break: Wings

Mm, the little blue bird that's lost its voice...

CW: Talk of mutilation and blood

... ♡ ...

Throughout the pitch black streets only occasional flashlight beams illuminated every narrow alleyway, unaware that merely a few feet away their target was crouching impossibly low behind a dumpster, attempting to silence choked sobs. In her shaking hands laid a captain's insignia having been clearly ripped from its wearer's jacket, the only piece left of the group - aside from fistfuls of white feathers - she failed to help.

Seonghwa's lingering touch now seemed to burn guilt right through her skin, the young woman's mind replaying the scene countless times - shouting voices alerting others of their whereabouts, her blissfully unaware self skipping towards her friends, the eldest's horrified gaze as he roughly shoved the maknae into a cramped space between two run down shops. Completely frozen in sheer terror all she could do was watch as the group fought to the extent their muscles would allow them to, the same person who had saved her turning around one last time with a finger to his lips as if begging their precious blue bird to stay hidden.

'You seem awfully far from your nest, birdie.'

The taunting voice triggered an almost instant flight response deprived of any rational thought and the second she managed to squeeze through the alleyway's tight walls - losing a few feathers in the process - the carefully crafted cage closed in on its prey, dozens of men adorned in black blocking every inch of the ground around her. Their movements were eerily synched as two of them twisted the defenseless bird's arms painfully tightly behind her back, the feeling of cold chains digging into her limbs' skin stopping any futile escape attempt.

Despite the knowledge that all was hopeless her body would not stop writhing against its bindings, the guilt driving every movement - his eyes had silently begged her to keep standing, his back had shielded her from their sight and his legs ran to lure them away. Pleas for help echoed uselessly in the empty streets, heard only by a singular figure standing in the darkness who she attempted to reach out to only for his head to shake and form to disappear as quickly as it had come.

'I can't...I have to get out...' She cried, resistance stopped by a heavy hit to her gut which made her knees collapse onto the pavement. 'I have to go save them...if I don't...they'll have sacrificed themselves for nothing...'

Five years ago they had all freed one another from the burdens of life, meeting in a rundown warehouse they were quick to make into a home as they let music and laughter carry their every step. Then they went from mere rebellious teenagers to the liberators of a world that lacked the very things which had saved them; emotions and artistic expression. Now eight of them had lost that freedom to feel, the freedom that gave them the impression to soar above the very world and only one remained, the one who had brought them together by inadvertence - a girl whose tears now burned her eyes.

Time seemed to slow when an excruciating pain rippled through her entire body, the spots in which blue wings once proudly sat now tainted a sickening shade of red as heaps of blue feathers fell to the ground. The scream of pain ripping through the young woman's throat was muted to her own ears, feeling only the strenuous vibrations as warm blood trickled down her mutilated back in a twisted symbol of her now lost freedom.

With the very notion of time distorted by the unrelenting pain forcing a heavy haze into her mind she could not tell how long she had been kneeling in a puddle of blood and feathers, only that every single one of the perpetrators had time to leave. Weakening by the second she could not even gather enough energy to attempt an escape nor move her hands that were now almost completely numb due to being strung up in such a manner; all she could do was mumble apologies over and over to the members she would never save.

We all try but we lose emotion...

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #HimariLore♡ #ateez lore

[dyedcomrade]

Dark! Jack Krauser headcanons

i think after operation Javier he'd be so broken mentally and emotionally that at first for a long time he shuts off all human connections

but after some time he will latch onto anyone who shows him kindness and will want to get fullfillment by that one person he chooses as his darling - no other people, only his loved one

you can be a nurse or another kind of healthcare worker he met while going back for checkups. a shop assistant who was very helpful, a pizza delivery person who smiled at him. it will be just an everyday human interaction - but to him it will be so new after decades in the military. even on his free days he did mercenary work, because he tought he was a brute and did so many horrible things that noone would ever accept him back into society. he reeked of the blood he shed, it's just natural to isolate someone who is this violent, this dangerous.

but not you. you treated him like you would any other person. maybe even better? you had a good day or he was just an especially chill patient/customer/etc. and you were happy that for at least once someone isn't trying to make your work harder than it should be.

he is no stranger to covert tactics. means he will manage your kidnap smoothly. there will be no signs pointing to that it even happened. he will also take any personal item he thinks you will need in the first two weeks of your stay with him. that time is crucial in his mind for you to settle in.

he only recently bought his house after getting discharged. it's very bittersweet to him, as he always wanted the american dream, a white picket fence, suburban life - all his life unknowinlgy maybe, but he fought for it, physically and mentally as well. and he deserves it. after sacrificing everything he had, it's the least. he doesn't feel entitled to it, but he will be very confused and sad if you fight back.

at first you will be bound and in his basement - him with you almost the entire time. the place is very clean and polished. he tried to make it comfortable with a new matress, a portable heater and several pillows and blankets for you. you also have a little basket with food he tought you'd like. he talks to you every day. about his life so far, his interests and his intentions with you. even if you seem accepting at first he won't let his guard down. he makes sure you can no way hurt him or yourself or escape. he'd love for you to talk with him, but it's not always necessary. he understands it's a tough time for you.

if you are especially unruly he will forcefeed you sedatives.

while in this position he baths you every day himself and you really only have to call for him and every of your needs are taken care of. he will make you any food you ask for - for that time he brings you up to the kitchen, but don't expect to be able to move an inch he is kind of experienced in securing stronger and bigger people than you. also if he finds you can't be trusted with utensils he will feed you as well. he may just get used to it and want to do this for you after you get familiar with your new life and doesn't wanna push him away the moment your hands are free.

he is very sweet in all the things he does for you. after all he knows he has to kill this one with kindness. and he is in for the long game, the results are just simply better if he is patient and doesn't punish you yet for acting out.

if you take an especially long time to accept your fate he will get a breakdown. not an angry one, though. not many people have seen him cry, but you will get an exclusive version. ugly crying for hours. not to make you pity him, no strain of toughts like this ever crossed his mind. it's genuine and a lot. life is treating him so poorly and the only one he thoght could trust is treating him like a monster! is that all he really is? were you playing a cruel joke on him formerly? he will hold you close while trying to calm himself down. he still has someone he can protect, you are alive and he has a chance for normalcy. just like he dreamt of as a kid.

by this time it's impossible your stockholm syndrome, pity or compassion havent struck. and he will see it. the little signs of acceptance, the way you start to care for him. if you behave he will unbind you and lead you up to the living area, show you around his house. it's very tidy and cozy. clean as well aside from one room he just uses as storage. you can't go there though. it's locked tight too, even more securely than all the windows and doors that could possibly serve you as an escape.

he may show you once his old photos, medals and the dogtags of his fallen comrades if you ask. but please be understanding it's hard for him. you should reassure and comfort him after. the rest of that day he will spend cradled in your arms.

he put cameras in everywhere - not like his days aren't free to spend with you, just in case.

with the new freedom you have comes the possibility for you to have some entertainment. Jack will probably be in the middle of trying to find a new hobby and will be glad to try out yours. only indoor ones of course. you can also watch tv with him or play video games. he doesn't have a strong preference for anything, will watch anything with you - with the exception of any movies or games about aoldiers, and he would be nice if you played shooting games on mute. don't want to trigger anything in him.

he may get a cat or a dog if you like the idea too and aren't allergic. if you go with the dog option, his backyard is big enough for them to play in, but he'd love for the three of you to go on long walks as well.

full freedom can be achieved with him, as he wants to be somewhat delusional with his darling and the level of devotion you have for him.

but you don't want to leave him. he is a broken man with noone left to love. why would you be so cruel?

if he is sure you won't try to pull anything on him, he may let you back to your job and he will try to find one as well. staying for so long at home is boring. he may go back to mercenary work and at this point he may have contacted Wesker as well about his condition. although you can be a very big inhibiting force for him turning to terrorism. he doesn't want to lose you by getting involved in anything, and for sure doesn't want to get too far from the place you live in.

other headcanons, that may be too specific for some

he has an ambiguous feeling about kids. he would love some, but if you can't get pregnant or don't want to he will let it go. if anything would happen during the pregnancy to you or the kid that sure would be the last straw.

the first time he would mention sex is after you gain his trust and he lets you out to roam the house. he can arrange a marriage if it's something you feel is necessary before laying with him. he makes sure that he wears protection - he doesn't really know after fighting b.o.w.s what he may carry that he may be immune to but you aren't and he doesn't want to infect you. if you are a virgin and trust him with your first time, let alone first relationship, he will be stunned and nervous a bit. that is the only time he will be doubting this relationship. is he sure the guy to introduce you to intimacy? is he even good at it? he didn't have any long term relationship ever. he will, however, be very gentle and attentive the first time. it won't be forced and will encourage you to tell him everything on your mind, even if you think it sounds stupid.

#dark jack krauser #dark resident evil

[runningracingdancingchasing]

Just updating my Raipunzel RP/ficlet list with @xiaolindude/@xiaolintease for our own reference.

Xiaolin-verse:

-Dragon of Light -Home Is Where Your Ass Is [COMPLETE] -Nova Scotia (ficlet) -Building Up Walls [COMPLETE] -Is This Okay? (ficlet) -Not a Nightmare... (ficlet, 18+ for s.exual content) -Diffident Diversions (18+ for s.exual content) -Suns Out, Guns Out (18+, for s.exual dialogue)[COMPLETE] -Cramp (ficlet, 18+ for s.exual content) -Lucky 13 (18+ for s.exual content)[COMPLETE] -You Can't Save Me (18+ for violence and potentially triggering themes)[COMPLETE] -Catch (ficlet, 18+ for s.exual content) -You're An Asshole But I Love You (starter) -The Balance of Waiting (18+, for s.exual content)[COMPLETE] -Mind Games (18+, for some s.exual content and several dark and potentially triggering themes) -I Want You to Want Me (18+, for s.exual content)[COMPLETE] -Rum Soaked Sunset -Negative Head Space -Something's Gotta Give -Stolen Studies (18+, for s.exual content) -The Intimacy of Hands - prompt (ficlet, 18+ for potentially triggering themes)[NOTE: Is not "canon" to this AU, but still takes place in it]

Bodyguard AU:

-Nowhere Safer -You Worry Too Much [COMPLETE] -Freefall (18+, for s.exual content) -Closeted Desires (18+, for s.exual content) -Jealousy (18+, for s.exual content) -Silence and Patience (18+, for s.exual content) -Another Inch of Your Life Sacrificed (18+, for s.exual content and potentially triggering themes) -One Year Kissaversasry -Behind Closed Doors (18+, for s.exual content) -The Sweetest Dessert (18+, for s.exual content) -I Choose You

Futbol AU:

-Charitable Contributions -Reopened Wounds (18+, for s.exual content and potentially triggering themes) -Christmas EmergencEve (18+, for s.exual content and potentially triggering themes) -Fall Apart to Reunite (18+, for s.exual content) -Flight to Catch -Nothing Will Burn Us Out (starter)

Tempting Scandal AU:

-Teach Me to Be More Adaptive (18+, for s.exual content and potentially triggering themes) -The Intimacy of Hands - prompt (ficlet)

"Villain" Rai AU:

-New to Rio, New to the World [COMPLETE] -Secretly On Your Side [COMPLETE] -A Guy Like You Should Wear a Warning (18+, for s.exual content)

Verses we've plotted but not RP'd in yet

Heylin Kids

Pirate AU

#reference #xiaolindude #xiaolintease #Dragon of Light verse #Bodyguard AU #futebol au #Tempting Scandal au #Raipunzel #It's still very amusing to me that we just sort of... #decided that Tempting Scandal was going to be one thread instead of jumping around the timeline

[amour393]

yall ever think about how tragic ninjago is

like the story is literally a group of kids who are just constantly traumatized

and this is WITHOUT THE "and s/he had to watch a loved one ___" excluding deaths (become possessed, become a ghost, etc)

We got Jay, who:

Watched his gf and the love of his life turned evil by an unknown matter and then had to fight her before being corrupted himself

Had to watch zane die

Was forced to partake in a tournament where his best friend willingly lost so that he could remain (and ended up losing his powers anyway, which has to feel like having a part of your soul ripped out

Found out he was adopted

Was kidnapped by a psychotic, powerful being from another realm who straight up TORTURED HIM (THIS KID IS LIKE SIXTEEN. S I X T E E N!!!)

Watched his friends/FAMILY be picked off one by one, blaming himself the whole time

Held the love of his life as she died in his arms

Was sent to another realm where he was essentially treated as a slave ans used as bait

Thought cole died

Thought zane died, only to find out he had actually been banished to the most dangerous realm of all

Was trapped inside a videogame

HAD TO WATCH HIS FRIENDS BE PICKED OFF ONE BY ONE AGAIN

HAD TO WATCH NYA BASICALLY DIE. AGAIN

is used as a human sacrifice

ALMOST DIED. LEGIT WAS FULLY PREPARED TO DIE TO SAVE HIS TEAMMATES/YANG

ALMOST DROWNED AND CAME WITHIN TWO INCHES OF HIS LIFE

lost nya without even getting the chance to say goodbye, forced to see her reduced to a shadow of her former self with barely the memory or the care he fell in love with

AND THATS JUST JAY!!!!!

Kai:

Was abandoned by his parents at the ripe old age of five and was forced to grow up too fast, literally having to learn to raise his sister as a child

Almost exploded in a volcano

Watched Zane die

Fell in love and was stabbed in the back basically immediately (even if she came around eventually)

Watched his little brother who he swore to protected be taken and possessed

Almost killed his own father

See above for "lost in another realm on two separate occasions, thought cole died, thought zane died"

Had his powers stolen AGAIN

Was killed in a videogame

See above for "my sister turned into the sea"

Cole:

Mother died when he was a child and had such a strained relationship with his father he literally ran away

Watched Zane die

TURNED INTO A GHOST

see above for "lost in realm twice"

Fell so far he almost died and was almost turned into a stone husk

See above for "thought cole died, thought Zane died"

See above for "died in a videogame"

Fell almost to his death. Again

See above for "nya turned into the sea" thing

Zane:

BESTIE LITERALLY FOUND OUT HE WAS A ROBOT

died

see above for "lost in a realm"

Thought cole died

basically died. again

was corrupted, lost his memory, and was manipulated for FORTY YEARS

almost died AGAIN to bring an evil being into the realm

see above for "nya sea" thing

Nya:

See above for "abandoned parents" and all that

Turned evil by the OL

Almost dies on a rollercoaster

Watches Zane die

A) had to witness all of Jay's trauma with nadakhan and b) LITERALLY DIED. D-E-A-D DEAD.

Thought her brother and bf and besties DIED (shortly after watching lloyd almost die)

thought cole died, thought Zane died, never-realm, etc etc...you know the drill by now

Died in a videogame

Sacrificed herself to save her yin, losing her memories, her humanity, her identity

AND THE ANGSTY TRAUMA BOY HIMSELF, LLOYD:

Was abandoned by his mother and hardly ever saw his father

Was bullied and tormented

Lived on the streets

Captured by the serpentine like four times

almost died several times to retrieve the fangblades

Almost blew up in a volcano

learned he was destined to defeat (-kill) the person he loves most

is almost kidnapped again

Loses his childhood once for all the responsibilities put on him as a kid then twice bc of magical tea

watches his father corrupted by the OL

is captured again by the digital OL and has his powers drained

WATCHES ZANE FRICKIN DIE

see above for "forced to partake in tournament and loses powers anyway"

Has to sacrifice his dad to the Cursed realm to save the world

IS. POSSESSED. AND ALMOST DIES BECAUSE OF IT

Has to sacrifice his dad to save the world (again)

Falls in love and is BRUTALLY, VISIOUSLY betrayed

Sees his father revived in a soulless evil husk

Said soulless evil husk almost kills him

Thinks his four best friends (BROTHERS-) are dead

Watches his city be razed and destroyed

Sees Harumi die

Fights his father AGAIN

See above for the "watched cole die, watched Zane almost die, never realm hopping, watching Zane corrupted, etc, etc"

(Side note for little lloyd wanting nothing more than to be like his father and now its his biggest fear )

see above for "died in a videogame"

See above for "nya turns into the sea" thing which causes my homie to become EVEN MORE DEPRESSED

In summary,

GIVE THE KIDS A BREAK

#i love this show with all my heart but it truly is such a tragedy #these kids go through so much #ninjago

[yellowocaballero]

Moon Knight: Marc & Steven Meet Jake; Realize Youngest Siblings Are The Worst

“I’m insane,” Marc whispered. “I’m insane.”

The cabbie jerked the wheel again, sending them on another sharp right turn that pushed Marc against the window and sent Steven colliding with Marc. He tilted the rearview mirror, giving the passengers a better view of his craggy face, and his mouth split into a sharp grin. It was manic and dangerous, caught in something left of ecstacy.

“Welcome to the madhouse, tesorito.”

Oh god.

Got distracted writing something else in the best life MCU series and wrote this out. Not super necessary to be familiar with the series, but the final scene may not make a lot of sense otherwise. I like this one a lot, mostly because it gives a ton of context for a lot of other shit that happens later on in the series.

As an A/N (or background): most of the classic "Marc&Steven meet Jake" stories I go through have the process be relatively painless, which a) is lacking in sweet juicy drama, and b) I never really grooved with. A lot of my stuff with Marc & Jake's relationship is kinda about the experience of living with a very highly stigmatized mental illness. Having a "crazy crazy" illness is really different from only depression/anxiety, and there is a certain entire process to accepting it. 'Good Luck Jake' was largely about that. It has to be difficult to discover that your incredibly stigmatized mental illness has secretly been twice as bad and three times as 'evil' as you thought it was. And that you're cockney now.

Beat out in a few hours. Very short 10k thing under the cut.

Marc forced himself awake. 

A white glove stained with red dug into fine sand, making the heel of his hand slip and skitter. Every inch of his body hurt. When he pressed a hand to his stomach he felt the tell-tale throb of a mortal wound healed only seconds ago. He lay on a shadow of blood staining the sand dark and sticky. 

The body was intact, if painful. Marc forced himself upright, hand brushing an abandoned knife by his left hand. He stood up, head woozy from the blood loss, and surveyed the desert. 

A crowd of corpses circled him. The ones close to him had throwing knives sticking jaggedly from their throats; the ones closer were gutted. The man closest to Marc was lying on his side, intestines already splitting from the heat.

He tried to count the corpses circled around him, but he gave up quickly. They were Hydra members for sure. The same Hydra members that had almost killed Steven and gotten the better of Marc yesterday. Two days ago? Three? Every inch of his body hurt. As if every inch of his body was dragging itself back to life.

They didn’t like to get involved in stuff like Hydra, but sacrificing the inhabitants of a homeless shelter trying to bring Set’s apocalypse down upon the sinful modern society had been worth involving themselves in. They had been personally offended for a lot of different reasons - not the least of which being that Set was pretty nice and had no apocalyptic interests - and they had chased the agents into…into an office front in London…

Marc took a step forward, then two. He was shaking - adrenaline leaving the body. The pain faded, but the weakness remained. It was only after three shaky steps that he realized he was walking towards someone - that he had begun walking towards them before he even saw them.

There was a mirage on the sand. A white ghost. He looked like Moon Knight, abstracted and simplified - a high stiff white cape, pure white thick fabric covering the entire body. Hood pulled low over the head with a pure black mask. Chunky white gloves and boots. Crescent moon insignia on chest. The eyes were covered by lenses, but Marc felt like he was staring into Marc’s heart. 

Marc opened his mouth to try and speak, but his freshly reconstructed trachea only managed a croak. He stumbled forward one step, two. The figure titled its head. 

The mirage didn’t flicker with the beat of the sun. It wasn’t a mirage at all. Marc somehow knew, deep in his bones, that the man was real. Maybe realer than anything else. 

Fabric scratched Marc’s face. Silky and smooth and breathable, like Steven’s own mask, but he felt the cape snapping stiffly at his heels. The thick gloves stained in red creaked as Marc flexed his fingers.

A Hydra agent blocked his path. He had been shot in the throat - a dignified death compared to many of the others. His helmet was shiny and polished, almost improbably so.

Marc stopped short and looked downwards, angling his head and attempting to see his own reflection in the heat that bore down in a suffocating curtain. 

In his reflection, he saw the man in the mirage. Two reflections stood in front of him - one warped, one real. His shaking hand reached up and tore off the mask, letting the black silk crumple in his fingers as his hood fell down. 

Only Marc stood in the reflection, as much as this new suit could be Marc. He looked back up at the mirage, seeing that his mask was off too. Somebody who looked like Marc stared back at him, expression blank and implacable.

Marc couldn’t speak. He only reached out a hand, straining to brush his fingers against something real. He didn’t know why - the man was several yards away, too far away to touch. 

The man spoke in Spanish with a voice that sounded like, but was not, Marc’s. 

“The body’s intact. I can return now. Go back to sleep.”

Marc shook his head. The corner of the figure’s mouth twitched downwards. 

“This is a dream. Nobody’s really dead. Go to bed.”

Marc shook his head again, even more frantically.

The figure’s eyebrow ticked. “You always go back to sleep. You’re always happy to forget this. Don’t change your mind now.”

Marc swallowed, and when he tried to speak again he was finally successful. “Change my mind on what?”

“That you and I are none of each other’s business,” the figure said. The figure who was not Marc. The figure that looked like Marc. The figure that wore Khonshu’s chains. “Every time we meet you decide to forget. This isn’t different. Rest, Marc.”

But it was different. Steven had his own suit now, and he was so damn proud of it. He fought his own battles and some of Marc’s too, and Marc didn’t need to protect him anymore. Marc didn’t need the mirage protecting him too. Or he didn’t need the mirage to stand by as he protected himself. 

Marc grit his teeth, stepping over the corpse. His limbs felt steady again, and he could walk unimpeded. “Give me the memories.”

“No.”

“I’m not forgetting this time,” Marc rasped, advancing on the figure who only stood still, “so give me the damn memories.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“I won’t hide anymore. You don’t need to protect me. Give me your memories. I deserve to know that you exist.”

The figure just looked at him, even as Marc stepped short in front of him. Breath heaving, limbs shaking. The figure just stared at him with cool, disaffected disinterest. As if he’d made his move and was waiting for Marc to make his own. Marc didn’t know what game they were playing. He hadn’t even known they were playing a game. He didn’t know what the stakes were, or what a win condition would be. The figure obviously knew. The figure knew everything, and Marc knew nothing. 

“What makes you think I was protecting you?” the figure asked blandly. 

“Show me who you are, Jake!”

Jake raised a hand, and Marc didn’t have time to duck away with his arms over his head. He slapped Marc, far more painful than should have been possible, and Marc fell down onto the sands. 

Jake showed him. 

*****

Steven opened his eyes in a taxi.

A taxi! This was a mystery. Despite the completely different form, he knew it was the mindscape. He almost wished it was real life - the question of why he was in a taxi would have had a very easy answer. But there was really no reason to be in a mind-taxi. 

Sure enough, when Steven looked out the window he saw that they were cruising the pockmarked streets of some Middle Eastern city that Steven was completely unfamiliar with but that Marc and Layla would probably know. Hopefully it was Cairo. Steven felt as if their family had a connection with Cairo. 

“How strange,” Steven remarked. “I suppose a little variety never killed anybody. But don’t you think it’s a wee small, Marc? I like hanging out in our first apartment far better. Still, there’s nothing wrong with shaking it up now and then.” 

Steven looked in front of him at the two seats turned inwards to face Steven’s seat. He craned his head to look through the thick pane of glass that separated the passenger area from the driver’s seat. Just the taximan there. When he looked right he finally saw Marc. That shouldn’t have been so difficult. But Marc shouldn’t look that bad either. 

 He was bent in half, forehead pressing against his knees. His hands were fisted in his curly hair, pulling it hard and alarming Steven. He was muttering to himself, like he always did as he swallowed screams.

“No…no, no, no…no!”

Just no, over and over again. Steven immediately put a comforting hand on his back, gently disentangling his fingers from his hair with his other hand. “Marc, love, you’re alright. You’re in your mind and you’re perfectly safe. Steven’s here, Marc’s here, everything’s fine.”

That normally helped. It always helped - Marc’s mind together with Steven was his safe space. Steven was always happy to step up, obviously, but it didn’t help this time. Marc just shoved Steven’s hand away from his hair and shied away from the hand on his back.

“Get away from me!”

Steven retreated, hurt. Hurt and confused. Marc always… “What’s wrong? Marc, I can’t fix it until you tell me what’s wrong.”

But Marc was almost hyperventilating, sucking breaths into lungs that needed no air. “I can’t do this again. I can barely handle one. I can’t have more, oh my god.”

“More what?” Steven was thoroughly alarmed now. “Marc, what are you talking about?”

“I’m insane,” Marc moaned. “They’re gonna lock me up. Mom’s gonna lock me up this time. She’s gonna make Dad lock me up. They’re gonna do it this time, they’re going to do it.”

This was going nowhere. Steven grabbed Marc’s shoulders, pulling him upright. Anxiety was creeping up in his own chest. Seeing Marc hysterical was always so scary. “Mum is dead,” Steven said, as sternly as possible. Marc kept his head down, chin tucked into his chest. “Dad is an ocean away. If anybody tries to hurt you, I will stop them. Nobody can get past me. I’ll protect you, I swear.”

“Shut up!” Marc shoved Steven away, and Steven released him. He finally looked up at Steven, and he saw for the first time that his face was reddened and ruddy. That there was a frantic, disturbed look in his eyes - searching for enemies in the one place he knew there was none. “You’re not real! Neither of you are real, you’re just voices in my damn head! Go away!”

It should have hurt. On some level, it felt like Marc had taken an ice pick to his heart. But on every other level it barely penetrated. It was like Marc saying Layla wasn’t pretty or something. Something objectively untrue, and something that Marc would never believe. No matter what the rest of the world thought - if there were morons out there who thought Layla wasn’t the prettiest girl ever - it would never be true to Marc. 

Something was wrong. 

Steven obligingly slid away, giving Marc his space. Marc didn’t apologize or take it back - he just shivered, as if he was deathly cold, and tucked himself in the corner of the cab. He stared furiously out the window, as if he could pretend that Steven wasn’t there. Trying to convince himself that he wasn’t real, that neither of them were real -

“Neither?” Steven asked, voice ratcheting up just a little. He hoped it sounded firm instead of anxious, but he knew the truth. “What do you mean neither of you?”

“Who do you think I’m talking about?” Marc snapped. “The other one. The one that’s always around.”

Steven bit back his shock and confusion, fighting to keep his voice even. “Marc, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What other one? It’s always been us.”

But Marc just shook his head, looking out the window. Steven wondered what he was seeing. “Mom was right.” 

“Jesus, Marc!”

“She’s always right,” Marc said, voice rising higher and drowning Steven out. “She knew he was me. She saw it. Mom always knows.”

For just a second, Steven saw what Marc was seeing. It was nothing unusual. Just a little boy, hands pressed over his ears as a roaring echoed outside, telling himself over and over again that it wasn’t Mom. That there was an evil inside of Mom that wasn’t really her - until Marc understood that it was.

This was enough. Steven had to front and make sure they were safe. Marc wasn’t going to calm down anytime soon, and they could be anywhere or doing anything. He’ll get them home, lock the liquor and medicine cabinets, and take the emergency sedatives. 

He leaned forward and knocked on the plane of glass. “Hello? Hello, Mr. Cab Driver? Can you drop us off? We need to go home.”

Steven couldn’t see the driver’s face. He could only make out a silly cap perched on a jaunty angle on his head and black driving gloves. He was sitting casually, easily. Relaxed as anything despite the scene in the back of his cab. He didn’t give any sign that he had heard Steven.

Steven knocked harder, tapping insistently. “Sir, it’s an emergency.”

The driver gave an exaggerated sigh. Without turning around, he bent his arm to slide back the small window in the glass before returning to the wheel. 

He said something in Spanish. 

Uh oh. “I’m sorry,” Steven said, vaguely embarrassed. “I don’t speak Spanish. Uh, no llamo espanol. Despite, ah, my looks and all - do you have any English? Ingles?”

The driver said something else in Spanish. He sounded a little like he was laughing at Steven. Well, excuse him. 

Steven looked backwards at Marc, who had folded his arms. “What’s he saying?”

Extremely unhelpfully, Marc said something to the driver in Spanish. The driver spun the wheel in an unexpectedly tight turn, sending Steven sliding on the seat, and retorted something else. Marc snarled something. The conversation seemed very vitriolic. 

“No, go ahead and exclude me, this is grand,” Steven said. “Real chuffed about this.”

The driver slapped the wheel, laughing. He said something else, and Steven caught the word ‘nino’. Three guesses who that referred to. Ugh. 

Marc’s expression was dark, but Steven couldn’t help but notice the flash of fear too. He said something else, voice shaking. 

The cab driver just laughed at him again. With no warning, he pulled the sharpest U-Turn Steven had ever seen, sending the car skidding. He went sliding, jerking left and right, and he had to rush to buckle in his seatbelt before the car lurched forward again.

The cab sped up. Steven couldn’t read the speedometer from here, but he could see the needle climbing higher and higher.

“You are not excluding me again!” Steven snapped. “Marc, you tell me what’s going on right now!”

Marc forcibly jerked his eyes away from drilling holes in the back of the driver’s seat to look at Steven. He looked a little washed out, eyes flickering left and right - as if telling Steven was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Our lovely driver showed me what he did all day,” Marc rasped. “All the - the people -”

Steven’s life was awful enough that he could fill in the second half of that sentence. His gut sank like a stone.

“He says he likes it,” Marc said.

The rearview mirror flashed, and for the first time Steven craned his head to look at it. Unfamiliar eyes flashed back at him. An unfamiliar smile. He looked like them, just like them, but nothing about him was familiar.

“I’m insane,” Marc whispered. “I’m insane.”

The cabbie jerked the wheel again, sending them on another sharp right turn that pushed Marc against the window and sent Steven colliding with Marc. He tilted the rearview mirror, giving the passengers a better view of his craggy face, and his mouth split into a sharp grin. It was manic and dangerous, caught in something left of ecstacy.

“Welcome to the madhouse, tesorito.”

Oh god.

There was no time to freak out. Marc was down for the count and the cab was only speeding up. Steven scrambled away, leaning forwards as far as his seatbelt would allow.

“You’re an alter?” Steven asked, voice creaking upwards in badly concealed anxiety. He hoped it sounded like friendliness. “That’s grand, really, so am I! It’s awfully nice to meet you, don’t think we’ve been quite formally introduced - I’m Steven, Steven Grant. And what’s your name?”

The cabbie laughed again, hoarse and raspy. “We don’t need introductions. I've been wotchin’ yer for a long time, Stevie. Long, long time.”

“His name’s Jake Lockley,” Marc said darkly. He wasn’t even wearing a seatbelt - allowing the cab to toss him left and left. Steven anxiously leaned over and did his seatbelt for him, which he suffered patiently. “We split in the army.”

The time Steven wasn’t there. That explained a lot. Steven had always been quietly surprised that Marc had gone so long without a single alter. Guess he hadn’t. 

“So you’re the youngest!” Steven cried, faux-cheerfully. Jake choked. “That’s sweet! Well, it is really grand to have a new br - family member. Always cause for celebration when a family gets bigger. Isn’t it nice, Marc?” Marc said nothing. “Alright! Well, obviously we have a lot in common. Besides a body. I have a normal English accent, you have a very strange Cockney accent - by the by, that’s kinda my thing, so if you can just stick to that West Side Story thing you have going on then that would be great.”

“Your thing?” Jake asked, grin spreading. “Looky here, chaps. Laddie’s got a thing. Could’a sworn it was toddlin’ after Marcito all the time. Oh, oh! I know!” He slapped the wheel, cackling. “Pacifism! Blimey, that’s a right laugh. I’m a bit of a pacifist meself.”

“Wow, that’s great,” Steven said, desperate for anything that might distract the man with the worst accent alive from crashing them into a sand dune. “I like to think that we all abhor violence, in our own rights. Now quite sure how that fits in with your killing people thing, but we can workshop it!”

“Oh, that one’s easy. Real easy.” Jake grinned again, propping an elbow on the window edge. “Once you kill a guy he stops hitting you. I like to steal his wallet afterwards. I’m a bit of an anarchocommunist too.”

That backfired. Steven desperately tried again. “You have to do things other than kill people. What are your hobbies?”

“Drinking,” Jake said cheerfully. “Love a good kitchen sink after work.”

“Do you run missions for Khonshu?” That was the only explanation for this. Never mind that Khonshu hadn’t mentioned a word, but that was par for the course. “Is that when you get into - into your fights?”

Dunes sped past them, blurring into burnt orange streaks of light. Jake just grinned. “Wouldn’t you wanna know.”

“I - I do, actually -”

“Here’s the scene, chaps.” Jake jerked the wheel again, sending the car skidding in an arc and making Steven clench his jaw. “I got me this friend, see? You might know him. Big an’ boney an’ pokey. Bit bossy. But we real good friends. And we don’t like being fucking interrupted!”

He circled the wheel, sending the car into a tailspin, and Steven’s neck jerked with the crush of force. Marc was silent, huddled in the corner. 

“So I’m gonna tell you the fucking deal!” The car skidded in a wide arc, Jake’s hands firmly on the wheel as he pumped the breaks with a demented grin. “We don’t bother Jake. We don’t bitch and moan about Jake’s killin’ an’ drinkin’ an’ screwin’!”

“Stop the car!” Steven yelled, heart jumping into his throat. “Stop the stupid car, we’re gonna -”

“Nobody tells me what to do!” Jake yelled, and Steven shut up. The car straightened, back end swaying. “Not in my own cab! Not even you two!”

Marc thumped the back of the glass with a fist, unphased by the tailspinning car. “You’re scaring Steven, dickhead.”

The car righted itself, and Jake finally killed the engine. The leftover acceleration kept the cab moving long after he killed it, the sudden silence magnifying the sound of Steven’s beating heart, and it wasn’t until it finally rolled to a stop among the dunes that Jake turned around.

It was the first time Steven could see his entire face. It barely resembled them at all. His eyes were more lively than Marc’s and more intense than Steven’s; his mouth pulled into a permanent grimace or smile where Marc’s stoicism usually lingered. His mouth was locked in a scowl now, fierce and intense. 

“I don’t need you,” Jake spat. Marc’s face twisted in a matching glower. Steven was almost jealous - he didn’t know what he felt at all. “Carino wasn’t supposed to ever remember me. I don’t need your life or your limp little family. Stay out of our way. An’ if you don’t do it, we got ways of makin’ you do it. Savvy?”

“You’re a traitor,” Marc said lowly. “Shacking up with Khonshu like that. It’s pathetic.”

“Khonshu takes care of me!” Jake yelled, and Steven shrank back. “I don’t remember you ever takin’ care’a me! I knew you’d hate me! I knew it! I knew it!” He smacked the wheel of the cab hard, and Steven winced. “I don’t want you two in my damn cab ever again! The last thing I need are more civilians draggin’ me down and making me life harder than it has’ta be.”

Impossibly, Marc’s outrage grew. “Who are you calling a civilian, you -”

“Someone who ain’t working the jobs I’m workin’.” Jake pointedly unlocked the doors, letting one swing open by itself. “See you again never. Familia.”

Marc clenched his jaw hard. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jake. Jake refused to look at him. “I’m not letting this go.”

“Big surprise.”

“I’m not going to let you keep doing this,” Marc said, voice rising. “I won’t let you keep hurting people.”

“Bring your complaints to the boss,” Jake said snidely. “He’ll take my side. He likes me better than he likes you.”

Steven put a hand on Marc’s shoulder and squeezed, cutting off any future screaming matches. “We don’t know where the body is,” Steven said lowly, and Marc stiffened. “You need to go front and get us home. We’ll talk then, okay?”

Marc’s glare melted away, revealing only sick fear. He folded his hand over Steven’s own, looking away from him. “I’m sorry for yelling that stuff at you. I didn’t mean it.”

“It’s alright. I know you didn’t.” Steven offered him a weak smile. “You can make it up to me with a museum day.”

Marc groaned, but he didn’t hide the twitch of a smile. “Sure, waste a day of our -”

“With Layla.”

“I’m not in charge of her schedule.”

“She’ll clear it for me,” Steven said loftily. He squeezed Marc’s hand tightly before releasing it, giving him a little push. “Go. I’ll be right behind you.”

He unbuckled the seat belt and slid out of the cab, not bothering to look behind him to be sure Steven was following. Marc disappeared into the dunes - hopefully into the body, where hopefully nothing catastrophic was happening.

Steven didn’t move. He just looked at the driver’s seat, where Jake slouched heavily and crossed his arms. He could half-see the ghost of a scowl in the rearview mirror. 

He closed the door behind Marc. Jake jerked up, twisting around to check the door, but when he scanned the passenger compartment Steven was gone. Jake exhaled and turned back to the front, fiddling with the mirror. It bent to the left, and a pair of eyes somewhat familiar to Jake flashed in the mirror. 

“Why a cab?”

Jake jumped in his seat, spooked despite himself. “Jay-sus! How’d you - get out of the front, dickhead!”

“Our mindscapes are always our homes, past or present.” Steven hummed, inspecting the clean and neatly kept interior. “You must feel very safe here.”

“I told yer to get out,” Jake said, puffing himself up. “Now scram before I -”

“That’s enough of that,” Steven said calmly, and Jake shut up. “Do I look like Marc to you? Save it for someone who’ll buy it.” Jake opened his mouth, biting retort already on his tongue, but Steven didn’t give him the opportunity. “I’m sorry your first meeting didn’t go well.”

“I don’t know what in God’s dumb-ass name you’re on about.” Jake folded his arms tightly, glowering at the steering wheel. “It went exactly how I always knew it would.”

“And you made sure of that, huh?” Steven asked archly. Jake looked away. “Reject him first so he can’t reject you like he did the five other times?”

Jake was silent for a long moment before speaking. “He’s already thinking it. He’s thinking - ‘that’s all the evil inside of me’. Jake Lockley, evil fuckin’ incarnate, pleased to make your acquaintance.” 

“You don’t want to try and convince him otherwise?”

“No,” Jake said shortly. “Fuck ‘im. Fuck you too. I don’t wanna be ‘nother Roro replacement. That’s all he cares about. I’m not a damn goldfish.”

It was a remarkably uncharitable view of Marc. Roughly as charitable as Marc would have for himself. Steven had never once felt like a replacement for anyone - only loved as equally. Marc worried often that Steven felt this way, and he had to reassure him every time that some shared traits did not a transference make. Granted, Marc had a bit of a complex that he did occasionally take out on Steven, but that was more of a proximity thing. 

“So you pick Khonshu over us, then?”

“Shut up about Khonshu.”

“Jake, look at me.” Steven held out his hand, but Jake still refused to look at him. Steven let it fall on the space between them instead, palm upwards. “Khonshu’s not your friend. Friends are equals.” Jake pressed his lips together thinly - was he finally listening? “Friends take no for an answer. I know he supports you and he’s nice to you, but that’s not because he cares. He just wants something from you, and you’re giving it to him.”

Jake hunched his shoulders, turned firmly away. “You dunno wotcher goin’ on about. Khonshu lets me do whatever I want. And when ‘is attention is on me it ain’t on you anyway, so don’t muck about and complain.”

That explained why Jake was so empathetic about Marc and Steven staying out of his life and leaving him alone. He thought it’d put them in Khonshu’s crosshairs. Kind of noble, pretty stupid. 

But it sent a pang through Steven’s chest. Did he even register what he was saying? Or was he too much like Marc, ignoring everything bad that he couldn’t change? At least Marc knew he was afraid. Jake didn’t seem to know he was scared at all. “Friends don’t let you do whatever you want. They don’t make you ask permission to do things.”

“How am I suppose’ta know something like that?” Jake snapped. His hatred and anger was running out of steam, and all he was left with only hurt. “I don’t got no friends. I don’t need ‘em either. I don’t need anyone.”

“Jake, please. You aren’t alone.” Steven had never felt so powerless in his life. And he was always powerless. “You have us. You don’t have to let him do this.”

“I have you?” Jake’s voice rose, brittle and sharp. “Yer jokin’. Marc threw me to him. It’s Abraham and Isaac here. Marc threw me to him because he can’t handle being friends with Khonshu, and it’s whatever. I don’t care. Khonshu gives me something I want too. I get that and I don’t need nothing else. I know he ain’t - but he’s all I got, okay?”

Part of Steven felt his heart break. Jake was lonely. His life was small and violent and he didn’t know anything else. The two people on Earth who should always be there for Jake, who should never leave him alone to bear the oppressively cruel world, chose to forget he existed. The three of them weren’t meant to be alone, and Jake was left trying to fill that hole with Khonshu.

But the vast majority of Steven felt a wash of hot rage. Anger didn’t come easily to Steven, but it burned hot and fast in his chest now. 

Jake was a kid. Not Steven’s occasional innocence, but an actual kid. He’d been alive for maybe fifteen years and he had never fronted for more than a few hours at a time. He said all he did was fight and drink. In many ways he was more naive than Steven, and Khonshu was taking advantage of that. Khonshu exploited him. He pretended that he was Jake’s friend and that he cared about him when he was just enjoying their most pliable side. 

Has there ever been time for Jake to discover who he was? To enjoy that person? Or was he stuck in that awkward and half-alive place - where every second of his life was defined by Marc and controlled by Khonshu?

Steven leaned forward, lowering his voice and making it gentle. “I have an idea. You’ve had to hide yourself from us your entire life, right? But you don’t have to do that anymore. You can front as much as you want.”

Jake finally turned to look at him. Steven had been half-expecting him to bristle at the tone, but the tension in his shoulders eased. He filed that one away. “As much as I want?”

“Yeah! So long as you’re polite about it.” Steven forced a big smile. It was difficult when he was this iridescently angry, but Steven was the world champion in emotional bullshitting. Besides, there was no way this promise would come back to bite him later. “Think about it. We aren’t working right now. You can take a whole day if you want. Maybe even a week, if you check with us first. You can go on museum days, or - or whatever you want. Buy your own wardrobe! It’s quite exciting when you think about it. Whatever you want.”

Jake stared at him, eyes wide. Finally, he said, “Whatever I want?”

“If you’re reasonable about it,” Steven said quickly.

“Whatever I want?”

“Within reasonable parameters.”

Jake straightened, finally relaxing. When he wasn’t trying to look older and bigger and tougher, he almost looked like Steven. “Marc wouldn’t go for that.”

“I think it’s time for Marc to get over himself,” Steven said gravely, and Jake’s expression lightened. “I’ll work on him. We’ll figure something out. Maybe all of this could be a good thing, yeah? You can find out what you want.” Find something that Khonshu couldn’t give him.

Jake looked around, as if there could be someone spying on them through the dunes, before leaning in. In a half-hushed voice, far more uncertain than Steven had heard from him so far, he said, “I always kinda wanted to be a New York City taxi driver.”

Steven stared at him blankly.

“I like the London cabbie thing I got going on,” Jake explained, as if this remotely counted as an explanation, “the cockney is good, it’s a great touch. Real classic feel. Almost Shakespearian, if you get me.”

“I - I don’t, actually -”

“But New York really just calls to me,” Jake finished triumphantly. “I think Marc’s got a thing or somethin’ - but think of it! I can go, like - ey, I’m walkin’ here! Fuggedaboutit! And stuff like that. Ain’t nothing tougher than a City cabbie. And the grid system sounds real nice, driving would be a dream. What do you think?”

Steven thought the matter over carefully. “NYC does have superheroes…”

“Yeah, that’s a downside,” Jake said grimly. That wasn’t quite what Steven had meant. “I can dodge those freaks easy enough. All the good sinners are in NYC, it’s nothin’ like London. And there’s, like, actual Jews. And Latinos. I’m kind of conspicuous here. I wanna blend in with the working class. I like all the pubs and rampant alcoholism here, but I hear in the City they got cannibalistic rats -”

“Please don’t tell me about the rats.”

He had no idea how NYC would even work. Too close to Jersey City for Marc. That’s faking a lot of citizenships and identifications. And, as much as Steven loved superheroes, what they did wasn’t strictly legal and highly resembled murdering people all the time. He really didn’t want to get into fights with the Fantastic Four or something. That would be super depressing and kind of embarrassing. And painful. What if they thought he was a supervillain or something? All they had to deal with in London was Excalibur, which didn’t count.

But Jake was still looking at him with wide eyes and excitement slowly fading the longer Steven hesitated. How many times had Jake asked for something that he wanted - actually wanted, something more than a drink or a kill - and recieved it? It was amazing that he still asked, that he still wanted and fantasized. That he wanted to be around people of his own freaking religion and ethnicity. The bare minimum. Friends, a life. The bare minimum.

“Yes,” Steven said, and Jake straightened. “Yeah. Yeah, why not? I’ll make it happen. Count on it.”

Jake’s eyes widened. A smile split his face - slow, lopsided, real. “Class.”

“If you’re gonna be American then you have to say ‘cool’,” Steven teased lightly. “Class is lingo for us swotty Brits.”

Jake brightened, smile widening. “Cool. Cool! That’s cool!”

“It’s very cool.” Steven couldn’t stop the authentic smile. Once you picked through…everything, then Jake was a little sweet inside. He looked like Steven, if you let him. “Listen, I have to go help out Marc. He’s probably too upset to front alone.”

If Jake was disappointed, he didn’t show it. He just closed off, straightening and looking away. But maybe that was answer enough. “Then I guess this is your stop.” The door opened by itself, swinging out onto the dunes. “Don’t come back, darling. You and Marc don’t got a place with what I do. It’d only make you miserable.” He halted a second, almost hesitant. “But I’ll catch you on the flip side, yeah? In New York City?”

“I’ll meet you in New York City,” Steven said warmly, sliding out of his seat and clambering out of the London cab. “But this conversation’s far from over. We have to talk again. Now that it’s three of us, we have to find a way to make everything work and have everybody get along, because what we got -”

“Christ, you’re boring,” Jake said, shutting the door. 

*******

Steven bolted upright in bed. 

It was night, the endless thumps and shakes of London echoing outside his flat as the streetlights dappled his wall in a faint shine. His towering bookshelves and stacks of notebooks cast a familiar cityscape of shadows on the floor. Next to him, his wife snored. 

Steven grabbed his phone, noting that it was plugged into a charger. He flipped it on and hissed at the flood of light, and turned down the brightness to minimum as he checked the date.

Wednesday night. They ran into the London building chasing after Hydra members on Monday night. Who had fronted for the last two days? Steven didn’t know. It was kinda creepy not knowing. There was something so uncomfortable about Jake.

Jake. 

Steven bent over the side of the bed and withdrew a locked box from the bottom drawer of his nightstand, inputting the code by muscle memory and popping it open. He grabbed a notebook and a pen from the top of a stack and shut the box, using it as a hard backing to scribble on a new page.

What are you doing? 

In careful script, Steven wrote ‘NEW YORK CITY’ into his plans. 

What? America? That is very inconvenient. The geography, the superheroes, the noise. This is against all of your plans. 

A smile twitched at the corner of Steven’s mouth. I know what I’m doing, Khonshu.

Are you going to tell me why?

Steven grinned. He wondered if he looked like Jake. From Khonshu’s slight alarm, maybe he did. “Nope.”

*******

Things didn’t change.

If they did, it was only in subtle and awful ways. Discovering Jake had sent Marc into a two week bender, unable to cope with the fact that his body had been killing countless people without his knowledge or consent. He took it worse than Steven had - but Steven didn’t blame himself for Khonshu. He and Layla had a massive fight about it, but he couldn’t tell her why. Steven pleaded and played peacemaker and lied and pretended that a mission had gone catastrophically wrong. 

They didn’t tell Layla. Steven had been the one to suggest it. The thought of her knowing was terrifying. He didn’t really know why. 

They lost more and more time, which infuriated Marc. Steven wrote several very empathetic sticky notes to Jake that maybe they could coordinate and make some plans so they stopped unexpectedly losing three days. He woke up the next morning to find the note floating in Gus’ tank. What an absolute teenager.

It continued to feel like they were sharing a body with a homicidal teenager. Petty, impulsive, constantly attention seeking, and rejecting all affection in the same breath he demanded it. Marc’s opinion had landed solidly on ‘serial killer’ territory, which was tremendously mean and sparked a lot of fights. 

“You didn’t see what he showed me,” Marc had said. “You don’t know him like I know him.”

“Neither of us know him!” Steven had exclaimed. “He’s just a kid, Marc! If we can just get him to talk to us and listen -”

“I’ll change my mind if he changes my mind,” Marc had said. “Until then, he’s a grown-ass man who jumps when Khonshu says how high.”

And that, of course, was a mortal sin to Marc.

Jake never tried to change his mind. They only saw him in the mindspace a handful of times since then. It always ended in a screaming match. Marc never tried and Jake never tried and they never listened to Steven when he tried. Nobody ever freaking listened to him.

And, one day, Steven noticed that Jake had changed. Or that he had been changing for a while, and Steven only just noticed. 

Jake stopped bragging about being Khonshu’s friend and started bragging that he could do the dirty work that Marc couldn’t stomach. He stopped speaking English in the mindscape at all, leaving Steven relieved that he had finally re-learned Spanish. He asked when he was going to meet Layla once, then never again. 

Jake grew up in fits and bursts. Or maybe he just grew away - it was almost impossible for Steven to tell. He was never cruel to Steven like he was to Marc, but he wasn’t exactly nice either. The parts of Jake that felt young and naive withered away. It meant that Jake was taking his advice - that he was fronting longer, that he was building himself - but it was a cold comfort. Steven never got through to him again. 

Was he still scared of Khonshu? Steven didn’t know. He couldn’t ask. Marc still yelled at him for getting in bed with Khonshu, and Jake still sneered that Marc was just jealous. 

  Steven never saw a real smile from him again. 

(“I had to promise them that this one wouldn’t go on the website. Or that we’d hang it up. So I guess it just lives on our phones. But maybe you can hang it up in your place!” Danny angled the phone closer, leaving Steven to squint through his reading glasses. “We had to bribe Jake to stand in it. And Matt made us retake it five times because he thinks staring randomly around is funny. Or maybe he just does that habitually? I dunno. I think I look pretty good, though! When I got here cameras really freaked me out, I thought they had ghosts.”

It was the Heroes For Hire, plus two freelancers. They were standing in a line, squished up so they all fit in frame. Whoever arranged the photo had a flair for the dramatic - they were all leaning against the metal siding of a warehouse, giving them a rugged Urban Outfitters look. 

Misty and Colleen were next to each other with one foot kicked on the wall, elbows brushing. Danny stood next to Colleen and Danny, grinning brightly and making a peace sign. Next to him stood Luke, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Jessica stood next to him, wearing an unfamiliar expression on her face. Jake was leaning against her obnoxiously, one arm thrown over her shoulders - an unfamiliar expression on his face too. Matt stood next to him, slightly apart from the others, wearing his usual Mona Lisa smile.

Jessica was smiling, self-confident and defiant. Jake was too. It was usually an expression only Steven ever wore, but somehow it was only Jake. It was a bright beam, cheerfully obnoxious. It was reminiscent of his constant fake beams, but the difference was clear - when he was faking a grin, he kept his eyes wide open in a way he knew unsettled people. His eyes were almost crinkled closed in the picture. No need to look for enemies. Safe.

“I don’t know why Matt has to look creepy in every picture, but - Steven? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Steven said, wiping his eyes. “We’re fine. Can you send this to me?”)

So Steven spent long hours crouched over his desk. 

There was barely enough room to write. Every inch of it was crowded with books. Textbooks coughing post-its occupied corners and printed sheafs of paper clamped between binder clips were jammed in folders. Five notebooks and counting lived in the locked desk drawer. Only Steven had the code. 

Marc thought Steven had developed a new hyperfixation. He didn’t really understand why Steven was so secretive about it - why he insisted that Marc leave him alone and not peek as he typed and wrote and annotated - but he respected his wishes. He knew Jake rifled through everything and occasionally stole the philosophy books, raising many questions, but he left it alone too. Layla eagerly asked if he wanted to audit courses on the subject, but Steven waved her away. Any course wouldn’t move fast enough. Steven needed to move as fast as possible - he needed to do this yesterday, a year ago. They couldn’t waste any more time.

Two or three books a day. One book a day for the particularly dense ones. It was slow going at first when he had to Google every other word, but eventually it became easier and easier. The easiest bits were just rereading the relevant books and articles on the Egyptian history and philosophies on the topic. He filled an entire notebook of an idea, realized it was stupid, then started another notebook.

He couldn’t rush this. It had to be perfect. He already knew he’d have to make a lot of compromises, so he had to start from the strongest stance possible. He had already resigned himself to capital punishment, but there were a lot of other areas he could make a lot of ground on. Areas that they didn’t even know about - global warming, white collar crimes, prejudice. Maybe someone out there would care about anti-semitism. He could design something that cared. An institution that cared.

Law. Legal philosophy. Forensics. History. Sociology, anthropology (he wished he knew an anthropologist!). Anti-racism and civil rights activism in America. Politics and corruption. Endless bills and case law and precedents.

Steven didn’t have a high school diploma. It felt so impossible. His head swam every day. But Marc and Layla did impossible things all the time. Steven could do it too. 

Marc saved Steven all the time. Steven had to save him. Save poor Jake. If he could do anything for the kid, even the smallest thing - he had to. Maybe he had a brother complex too. 

It wouldn’t fix things. But if it would just make their lives a little easier, ease that burden. There was no room for pacifism in their bloody lives. Steven would have to make room. Nobody said pacifism was easy. 

Khonshu knew, of course. He was fascinated and confused. He was the only god Steven had on regular call, so he ended up being Steven’s source on a lot of the practicalities. Steven would have to press him to arrange an introduction to Thoth and Anubis. He needed allies. Taweret was another huge help. If Thoth wasn’t in the bag no one was. Anubis was crucial. Anubis and Taweret together covered an important part of the process. It would be almost impossible to get an audience with Set, but that could really swing things. He had to be political about this. Terrible sentence.

You don’t know what you are proposing, Khonshu warned. He sat on Steven’s couch, feet propped on the coffee table, as Steven bent furiously over his desk. It was four am, but they didn’t need as much sleep as other people. It was fine. This could have far-reaching implications. 

“Last time I checked I’m the only one who understands what I’m proposing,” Steven said, only half-paying attention. He circled an important precedent in a court case and wrote it down in his journal. “You’re the only other one who knows what I’m doing, and I know you don’t get it at all.”

You misunderstand. The planes have been unstable for almost two decades. What you are proposing will destabilize reality.

That got Steven’s attention. He straightened and turned around, taking off his glasses. “Excuse me?”

Khonshu nodded. He seemed serious for once. The Old Gods have withdrawn their influence from the mortal plane. Aliens masquerade as us. As we visit, it is through humans like you - conduits for our power and influence. Recipients of our gifts. But it is our weapons who handle our mortal affairs. Rarely us. We do not interfere.

“Do us weapons really not count as you interfering in mortal affairs?”

I was excommunicated from the gods because of you and your predecessors. Yes. 

Alright, that was fair. All gods did was cheat and exploit loopholes. Which was why this charter had to be perfect. “So you’re saying that my idea would magnify godly influence on the mortal plane by ten?”

A hundred. A thousand. Steven paled. You are suggesting more than a visit or a representative, Steven. Even a temple. You are suggesting an outpost. A home for the gods on the mortal plane. That we take personal responsibility for the natural conduction of human affairs. That we step outside of our aspects. Do you even understand this? 

How could he? Steven was just a lowly human. A doctorate wouldn’t help him understand godly whatevers. “Don’t you understand that this would increase your power by a thousand?” Steven shot back. “I told you this at the beginning - I’m making you more powerful than you ever dreamed of, Khonshu. Tawaret’s ship was empty! The Duat hasn’t seen a soul for a thousand years. I’m offering you a lifeline. Like it or not, you’re the one without much bargaining power here.”

It is why I believe in your success, Khonshu said. Steven exaggeratedly clutched his heart in shock. But that you taking advantage of our desperation -

“Wonder what the hell that’s like!”

-  will result in us making changes we have spent a thousand years denying. Changes that no Old God has ever accepted. You are suggesting modernity, Steven. It is unthinkable to us. And if the Egyptian gods take that step, then others may follow. Khonshu tilted his beak down, empty eyesockets boring into Steven. This is more than changing our operation. It is more than changing the world. It is even more than changing the Egyptian gods. You could change godhood itself.

“You said the mortal planes were unstable,” Steven said. He was already sitting, but he had the sudden urge to sit down. “Do you think this might…what, destabilize reality?”

Perhaps. Khonshu held up two skeletal fingers perpendicular to each other and slowly crossed them. You will bring the godly realm closer to the mortal one without a doubt. What the impacts of such an event shall be…I do not pretend to know. Perhaps nothing will happen. Perhaps everything. Perhaps it will simply be the beginning of a ripple effect. You are throwing a stone in the water, and we do not know where these ripples might lead. 

“You don’t…really think I’m going to destroy the universe, do you?” Steven asked dubiously. “You wouldn’t think this is nifty if you thought that.”

I am attached to the universe, so no. I do not think what you do will make this universe better or worse. I simply think it will change it. What happens after that is up to everybody else. Khonshu paused a beat. There will definitely be more superhero fights.

“Oh, but that’s their problem.”

Yes, I don’t care. 

Steven thought about it.

The words should have rocked his world. They were insane. The thought of Steven and his stupid little idea changing the planes of reality itself? He’d read enough about mortal and mystical planes and everything to know that they were kinda important. This crowded desk and dog-eared books and highlighted textbooks - could it really change everything?

A fifty/fifty chance of saving the world or dooming it was a risk too big to take. Steven was insane for even considering it. There was no way this wouldn’t destabilize the universe even more.

And the other gods. Steven knew that they were out there. The Ancestral Planes, Heaven and Hell (or, as normal people said, “Heaven” and “Hell”). If Steven accidentally put the “Devil” on Earth and helped him start a nightclub Marc would be mad at him for sure. What about the New Gods like the Eternals? Or those guys who live on the moon?

A lot of fancy thoughts. Steven didn’t pretend to know anything about any of it. Interplanar geometry and the multiverse and magic - it was way above Steven’s head. He was just an incredibly mentally ill Latino guy who never graduated high school living in indentured servitude. Steven was kinda at the bottom of the ladder here. 

He tried to care. He really did. Steven tried really hard to care about the multiverse, the universe, the planes of reality, the galaxy, Earth. New Gods and superheroes. It was probably super important.

Steven looked down at his notebook. His untidy scrawl covering every square inch of the page and then some. Every plan. Every hope.

“Would the courthouse help Marc?” 

I am the greatest help to - 

“You are not.”

Khonshu sighed. Marc wouldn’t assassinate anybody anymore. He paused a beat. Mostly. I am hardly giving you away. 

Steven clenched his jaw. “Would it help Jake?”

I hardly think Jake wants your help. He likes his life with me - 

“Shut the fuck up.” Khonshu shut up. Steven clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white. “Would this help Jake? Would it make him happy? Actually happy, not your sick definition of happiness.”

Khonshu was silent for a long moment. Finally, he said, A burden on Jake would be lifted, yes. Not all of it. But some. 

Steven’s conviction settled. But it had never really been a debate. He had never really been conflicted. Like Marc, like Jake - Steven didn’t go back on a promise. 

“Then the multiverse can burn.”

Khonshu stared at him. Steven ignored him, listening only to the thump of his heart in his chest. It beat an insistent drumbeat in his ears. 

The consequences. The domino. The ripple. What this might mean for everything and everyone. Who and what Steven would sacrifice just to make the impossible happen.

Marc, passed out drunk in a bathroom with vomit on his chin. Jake, sharing a smile that Steven never saw again. Layla, holding divorce papers and crying silently. 

They had sacrificed everything. Nobody had ever sacrificed anything for them. Nobody had ever helped them. Marc, Steven, Jake, Layla - they had given their entire lives and they had never received anything in return. Only pain and heartbreak. 

The multiverse had never helped Steven’s family. Steven wasn’t giving it anything more. It stopped here.

Steven dragged over a textbook, cracking it open and flipping to a new page in his journal. He didn’t answer Khonshu. He just put his glasses back on and bent over the textbook, highlighting furiously and scribbling notes in the margins. 

Ah. I - well, see you tomorrow!

The multiverse was going to work for them from now on. The courthouse would change everything. Steven was going to fight tooth and nail for it. For the courthouse. For Marc’s peace. For Jake’s New York City. This charter was going to be foolproof, and the gods were going to see. The gods were going to agree. They had to. 

Steven continued reading and writing until the sun broke over the horizon, and for many hours afterwards.

#my writing #moon knight #mk #marc spector #steven grant #jake lockley #does the rest of the series turn out the way it does because #jake wanted to yell FUGGADABOUTIT really loudly? #yes. #i wrote this then felt like a genius over both how i retroactively made a lot of behavior in the series make sense #and how fucking hilarious cockney jake is #i s2g the story was really different before I did the cockney thing and then i just couldn't take him seriously anymore #anyway back to frenchie

[ezzydantes]

Demons

Author's Notes: I absolutely love this song and it reminded me a lover that Law would take... so warnings... definitely NSFW.

Law stood in the common room on the Polar Tang and he was sweating. It had nothing to do with the fact that the temperature raises while it was under water. "Dammit" he shouted. He saw the looks from some of his crew but it was your heated gaze that caused him to lose his shit. He quickly pulled his eyes from you when he swore your eyes glimmered a slight shade of glowing red at him as an almost evil smirk graced your facial features. A knowing look that he was still flustered from the night before.

*********

FLASHBACK

"I swear to God, Law... ", you growled.

"You can scream and yell... you can hate me all you want but in the end it's US... you and me... and because you want to flaunt your body all over the New World is NOT an excuse to be wreckless!" He growled back, backing you into the corner of his office. His hands slamming on the wall on either side of you as he glared down at you. You had wandered off at the last port without taking a transponder snail and hadn't returned until early in the morning, drunk. To say your Captain was pissed was an understatement.

Your heart skipped a beat and you stopped breathing at the position he had you in, but you had to school your nervousness. He couldn't know your dirty secret of wanting to be underneath him.... to be the one he woke up to every morning or his partner in life. You closed your eyes and took a breath. As soon as you felt him back off even an inch, you used the whole strength of you to shove him off.

"All my life I've been told what to do, who to be, and be ready to be Doffy's plaything. So YES... I enjoy the freedom that Cora gave me... gave US! We were never meant to hide in the shadows... he wanted us to be something more... something greater. So unless you plan on taking me over mind, body, and soul... truly make me yours...in every way... your lover, your partner, your EVERYTHING... then BACK. THE. FUCK. OFF" you seethe as your nose touched his and you didn't bat an eye, "until then... I will be my own person the way Cora INTENDED it... I am the one who decides my fate... not you or anyone else!"

You stormed out his room sending the crew who had been eavesdropping on the otherside flying in every direction while you slammed the door as hard and as fast as you could. Sending some bolts flying down the hallway bouncing and clanging as you glared down the crew before stomping off to your room. Bepo peeked into the room seeing the Captain blushing and stunned. He started to say something when Law immediately shut the door without so much as a word.... it swung back open... "Dammit, Y/N!" The Captain shouted as he walked out the room, "somebody fix that shit!"

END OF FLASHBACK

**********

The memories were still fresh. You had basically told him that you wanted him in the same way he had wanted you for years now. When he looked at you again, the hooded lids and demonic grin had disappeared into a genuine smile, causing him to blush as he excused himself to his office. That was the first time in years you made him conscious of you as a potential lover. You were a drug... you both had tried to leave each other so many times...but always came back to one another in some shape or form... He hated you at that moment for reminding him he had other needs other than revenge. He had to avenge Corazon before he could think of any personal wants or needs. The man had sacrificed his very life for you both. You were ruthless and brought out the Surgeon of Death's vengence, but.... the lustful thoughts and your sinful,flirty nature....years of pent up sexual tension. He would never though because you had been groomed to be Doflomingo's lover. You were 16 when Corazon took you and him away from the Donquixote family.

Corazon had saved you both and you had lost a father figure together. He had made one last wish before his death...

"I love you kiddos... look out for each other... always..."

Law had you with him since... but it was lately, now that you both were getting close to your goal: KILL DOFLAMINGO, that his feelings were getting uncontrollable. In his mind you may have been older than him and while Doflamingo had kept you close you always slipped from the Heavenly Demon's grip. You knew the devil's intentions for you... Corazon did too and you wanted to live apart from that life... yet you ended up a pirate anyways.... something that had always been intended for you.

He knew if either one of you died the other would follow not long after. You two were all you had. He was the reasonable one but you still kept your wrecklessness since you were young. Last night was proof of how quickly you could fly of the hinges.

You were hard to predict and even after all the years together he still knew little as to what you were thinking. You let him in when it mattered. You could be cold but... with him... you always let your walls down... even in the small moments you shared yet there was always that dark side... a side he never understood. You took the mark of the Heart Pirates with no hesitation. You refused being part of the Donquixote family... even convinced Doffy that your unmarred skin would be better. But you beared Corazon's mark... Law's mark, as bright as day on your thigh. A hidden tattoo that only he knew about.

You were his greatest desire and weakness. No one else mattered but you. You consumed all of him... your safety mattered most... your smile... your genuine laughter that he only experienced. Law grabbed onto the wall as he stumbled in his thoughts of you. He thought walkimg around would clear his head, but he was wrong. Dammit if he didn't want you at least once before your daring plan against Doflamingo... once to have you yell his name as he filled you up over and over so that if anything he'd be able to leave a piece of him with you.... yeah it was creepy but he'd been keeping up with your cycle... tonight would be prime to give you something to remember him by.... you weren't going to fight Doflamingo and if word got back on who ruined the Warlord... your name will have disappeared.... you'd be safe, it was already decided. But dying knowing a little bit of him survived within you... was bliss.

So if it was decided he would die for vengance of Cora... then why not? He knew from your interaction last night that you had yearned for him the way he did for you. "Fuck it", the Surgeon of Death muttered as he turned tail to your quarters. What he didn't expect was your absence. He checked your quarters throughly and then went to the kitchen... of course... but you werent there either. If anywhere you would be in his office. His room... was always your safest place to go.

You were sitting on his bed, reading something when he came in. "Babygirl...", he breathed your nickname as he saw you had the latest volume of his favorite Manga in your hands.

"Figured it was the best way to approach you", you grinned, "Got it on that island I was 'flaunting' my body on..."

Law chuckled as he shut his door behind him and locked it. Penguin assured you'd not be able to break it after he fixed it from last night's fiasco. "Babygirl..." he started and stopped when he saw your frown.

"That was Doffy's nickname for me... call me yours..." you whispered as you sat the book down and slowly walked up to him. "Do you even remember?"

"My bright eyed girl..." he whispered as he held his arms out to you, " a beautiful brown with green twinged between and circled in gold...with a bit of devil hiding beneath them...."

"The night you told me that... I was yours..." you admitted as you embraced him, "I love you above anything else in this world Trafalgar D. Water Law..."

You using his name broke him completely. Damned the world you two stood against... he could hate and love you because YOU were the only one in the world who could make him lose his composure and make him feel both emotions at once.

"I love you.... I've loved you more than anyone in this world... and I thank Cora everyday he gave me the chance to say it..." Law leaned in and kissed you. You deepend the kiss as you pushed him towards the bed while pulling off his coat and then his under shirt.

Law stopped you and pulled you from him by the wrists... holding you barely an inch from him. "If I take you... you're mine... my EVERYTHING. My heart, body, and soul... and no one else can have you."

"Do you know how long I've been waiting to hear that? " You sighed as you pushed him down onto the bed, "You've always been and will always be mine... even after I leave this world."

"Don't talk like that..." the Captain quietly stated as he raked his tattooed knuckles across your cheek gently, taking your lips into his while pulling you down and on top of him. He broke the kiss to swipe your hair behind your ear, "The day you die... so do I.."

There it was, your genuine smile. The smile he fell in love with at 13 years old and he was one of two people in the world to ever benefit from it. He held your face in his hands and pulled you back into a passionate kiss. After a few seconds you pulled away, caressing his cheek, "Take me."

Law smirked and flipped you over as he began trailing hot kisses and nips down your neck. "Y/n, take your top off. "

"So you think you get to boss me around now that you're taking me as yours?" You teased as you sat up and took your sleeping top off. "You're lucky you're cute..."

The raven haired man couldn't help but chuckle at your antics as he pinned you beneath him again. He was careful not to squash you but he loved feeling your naked chest on his. His grey eyes wandered down to your breasts and in the first time ever you felt shy around him. It did not go unnoticed by the Captain and he set your mind at ease by gently and reverently kissing your chest. He licked your collar bone and gently sucked on the swell of your breasts before kissing down your valley until he reached your navel and traveled back up again. He left hickeys in his wake but he didn't care. Every inch of you belonged to him now and he was going to mark you up so the whole world knew.

As he sucked on your nipples, your hands immediately went to his hair. It was rare to see his head without the hat and you loved playing with his dark locks. You held him close to you as he continued his assault on your chest and waist. Eventually his hands began to wander down further until he was cupping your sex through your pajama bottoms. He grinned into your gasp as you moaned at the feel of him touching you there. "Doc...", you whispered his nickname into his ear before sucking in his ear lobe and nipping it. This caused him to moan in return as he suckled on your pulse right below your ear.

"I need to be inside of you...." he growled as he yanked down your bottoms and then his as well. He wrapped your left leg around his waist and then bottomed out into you. The pair of you gasping at the feeling. "God you're so tight..." the Surgeon of Death hissed. He had to concentrate not to cum right then and there by burying his face between your breasts.

"Fuck...", you groaned, "Give me a sec... I thought you'd be gentler than that."

"I'm sorry... it's just.... I needed to feel you...", Law sighed as he licked the area where his head had rested a second before.

"I know, Darling but DAMN", you chuckled as you started to wiggle a bit to become more comfortable with being stuffed full with his cock. "Just start slow..."

"As you wish..." he quietly stated before giving you two long, languid kisses as he started to slowly move in and out of you. "Hah... I don't think I'm gonna last long on this round..."

"This round?" You sounded surprised. You looked at your lover and saw he was being serious.

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't see straight and until I have no more cum to give..." he growled as he picked up the pace, causing you to start whining. "I want you to scream my name until your hoarse and fuck you to an inch within our lives... I've waited too long to have you..." he panted as he got closer and closer to his release, "You're MINE.... now and forever."

His declaration, his loud moans, and calling your name out loud as he came into you, spilling every last bit he had been saving for you made you cum as well. Your walls clenched around him as you shouted his name while clinging to him desperately as he continually fucked you through both of your orgasms. When neither of you could take it anymore, he collapsed next to you, pulling you into his embrace. After a few moments of catching your breath, you snuggled into him. "Still think it's a good idea to go more rounds?" You teased. You closed your eyes as he kissed your forehead while wrapping you up closer in his embrace.

"I want you as many times as you'll let me have you...", Law whispered, "I want you always... "

In total you lost count of how many orgasms after 5, but you knew there were many more. Weeks later you and Law were in Dressrosa. The pair of you had barely survived the ordeal. It had been the biggest obstacle in all the years you had known each other. It almost tore you apart, but it brought you closer together than ever before especially since you learned you were pregnant. You'd never seen Law so openly happy before until he found out you followed him to Wano... how he could kill you right now.

#Spotify #one piece #traflagar law x reader #trafalgar law #traffy

[kerimbeys]

EVERY BOND FILM QUANTUM OF SOLACE (2008) dir. Marc Forster

Another inch of your life sacrificed for your brother.

#*bond #bondedit #007edit #quantum of solace #james bond #our edit

[theone-with-thestuff]

Power Rangers: Zedd⚡️

(Movie 4 of the Power Rangers 2017 movie sequels that never were)

Unboarding his ship at a sedate pace, Lord Zedd reaches the large frozen block of ice. With a single touch of his metal-clawed hand, the ice cracks and breaks with red corrupted energy. Releasing the green clad prisoner that was trapped inside. She falls to her knees, pained and tired, until she notices who released her, eyes going wide.

"My lord, it has been so long!"

"I know. Join me, Rita, join me like you did all those millenias ago. And together, we will finally bring order to the universe!"

For some unknown reason, Rita hesitates for a moment, but the answer is as clear as it ever was. She had already sacrificed too much to stop now.

Having defeated and incapacitated the Rangers, Zedd approaches the Zeo Crystal and, with a touch, releases a wave of red corrupted Grid Energy into it.

"Finally, the power of the Zeo Crystal is mine!"

Rita, still holding down a beaten Yellow Ranger, watches eyes wide as the plant life around them start to die as the energy of the Zeo Crystal is corrupted, simultaneously cutting the Ranger's connection to their suits. Trini, witnessing the destruction screams at Rita.

"Is this what you wanted, Rita!? Death and destruction, is that all you're good for?"

"No... No this is for order. With the Zeo Crystal we can bring life to any system, heal the dying stars of my planet-"

"Order??? I saw Zedd's order on Eltar. Planets in ruin, people enslaved and starving. Is THAT your order?"

"N-no..."

Still reeling from the discovery of Zedd's true depravity, and realizing how far she had fallen from her initial goals... Rita sees a glow in the hands of an unconscious Tomi. Her old Green coin, now reforged white, starts floating and gliding towards her.

"After all this time, after all I've done..."

The coin is now right in front of Rita, floating just a few inches before her. She grabs it, feeling its energy coursing through her once more. Rita's magic in combination with the coin capable of overriding Zedd's corruption of the Grid Energy. A new suit slowly covering her form as she glares and and starts running in Zedd's direction with fierce determination.

"YOU LIED TO ME!"

Rita knew she wouldn't survive this attack... But the least she could do was to fix one of the many mistakes she had done throughout her life. She'll prove the coin hadn't made a mistake choosing her all those years ago. Prove that SHE WAS WORTHY.

"It seems you'll die as you lived, Rita! A traitor and disappointment!"

"Maybe. But at least, I'll die as a Ranger."

And then... Rita's golden blade made contact with Zedd's neck.

Another blood red wave of crackling energy escapes the crystal.

"I still can't Morph! Why isn't the crystal going back to normal?! Zedd is gone, shouldn't that have fixed it?"

Rita draws a ragged breath.

"No. The crystal has been unbalanced by the corrupted Grid Energy. The waves are going to to keep growing stronger and stronger until the Crystal reaches its breaking point, and then... Well, I'm sure you can imagine what happens when the source of all life is destroyed."

Trini's eyes go wide.

"What can we do?"

Rita chuckles as she lay on the ground, eyes unfocused and blood leaking from her wounds. The Ranger suit that had briefly covered her was now slowly retreating.

"The crystal would need to be rebalanced with a wave of pure Grid energy the likes only a fully morphed Ranger can provide."

Trini looks down at the dull yellow coin in her hand.

"My coin still isn't working."

"I suppose I can help with that."

Rita uses the last of the magic that had kept her alive to spell Trini's coin. Allowing it to bypass the corrupted Grid energy and Finally Morph.

"After all, you always were my favorite, little yellow."

The yellow Ranger takes a last look at her old enemy's dying body.

"I'm not going to survive this, am I?"

Rita gives her simple one word answer as she draws her last breath.

"No."

Trini lets a single tear fall before she starts running towards the now visibly unstable and struggling Zeo Crystal.

She could hear the screams and pleading from her friends as they saw what she was doing.

But she keeps running.

Each increasingly powerful wave of dark red energy lashing and pushing against her.

But she keeps running.

The energy burns as it hits and courses through her body, the force of every wave growing stronger and faster as she gets closer to her goal.

But she keeps running.

Trini feels the crystal absorbing her Grid energy, her suit disappearing piece by piece. Then her coin, slowly disintegrating.

"Thank you... For being my friends."

The world goes white.

The Crystal has stabilized, and has reformed stronger than before.

Lord Zedd has been defeated and his legions have been beaten.

The town and the world have been saved.

The heroes don't celebrate. Not today.

_____________________

An awesome new series of commissions made by the super talented @samurairdk showing what I think could have been the 2017 movie sequels!

Zedd, having tracked the dragonzord as it returned from Eltar, reunites with his long lost ally Rita in order to invade Earth and finally take control of the Zeo crystal so that he may control all life and death in the universe.

I imagined this sequel as slightly different than the rest. Instead of focusing solely on this team of Ranger, it would delve in the history of Rita and her team and what caused her to turn against them. This movie would also mark the end of the Mighty Morphin team and suits.

#power rangers #power rangers fanart #go go power rangers #power rangers 2017 #power ranger movie #yellow ranger #lgbtq rangers #trini #trini gomez #female tommy oliver #green ranger #pink ranger #blue ranger #red ranger #white ranger #rita repulsa #lord zedd

[persephoneflowerpetals]

‘Til Death

Chapter 1: The Flower

Chapter 2: Welcome to the Underworld AO3 Link

We all know the story of Hercules, right? A god turned demigod (thanks to his evil uncle) raised on Earth by mortals only to find out in his late teens that his real parents were the most powerful and important gods in the entire cosmos: Zeus and Hera. He then trained with a satyr to become a hero, so he could return to Olympus and be with his family again. He later met the love of his life who nearly betrayed him until she sacrificed her life to save his. In return, Hercules risked his own life to save his love and saved the entire cosmos from his power hungry uncle, Hades as well. Hercules then chose to stay on Earth with his beloved Megara and they all lived happily ever after.

Well…except for one god. Hades: the villain of the story. You see, after Hercules saved Megara’s life, Hades tried to schmooze his way out of punishment. This made Hercules furious, so he punched Hades right into the River Styx where he was dragged to the very depths of the river by the angry souls he tormented. Hades had been stuck in the river for quite some time (for a week or two to be exact) and he eventually managed to get himself out (no thanks to his “loyal” minions). 

After escaping the depths of the River Styx, Hades was put on trial and was ultimately banned from stepping foot on Olympus until further notice. Now, Hades was practically under house arrest. So, the only thing he could do was continue work as normal until he could come up with a new plan to finally get rid of his pretentious older brothers as well as his “Wonderboy” nephew and his precious “Nut-Meg”.

This is where our story begins.

~X~X~X~X~

“Boys! Progress report! On the double! Let’s go, c’mon! I don’t have all day!” Hades, God of the Underworld and Lord of the Dead demanded as he walked along the dreary halls of the Underworld, snapping his fingers for emphasis of his demands.

Pain and Panic, his (somewhat) loyal minions quickly trailed behind him, trying to catch up to their nefarious boss. “Another one of your Lethe pool cleaners forgot who he was and where he is…and, well…everything again.” Panic informed his boss after finally catching up with him.

“Great. That’s the 10th one this week. At this point I’m debating on making you two clean the pool.“ Hades sighed with frustration. “Anyways, I don’t care about the menial stuff right now. Let’s talk business. What’s our soul index for this month?”

Pain and Panic stopped walking with Hades and looked at each other nervously then looked back at Hades. “Helloooo, I said: what’s the soul index?” he asked again with annoyance as he too stopped walking, peeking around his shoulder at his minions.

“Errrhh, we, uh….we don’t have the soul index for this month.” Pain admitted. “It sorta slipped our minds. Eheh… just like your pool cleaner. Funny coincidence, isn’t it?” Panic added, trying to ease the tension with a little joke. 

Hades’ hair started to burn red in anger as he turned fully around to face the now cowering minions. “It slipped your minds, huh?” he asked, seething with anger as he walked toward his terrified minions.

“Y’know, it is a funny coincidence, actually because it seems to have slipped my mind that I SHOULD MAIM YOU!” Hades shouted as his hair started to flare up a little bit. He then attempted to burn Pain and Panic with his fire powers, but the flames from his hands were only inches away from them. The two minions held each other and closed their eyes, preparing for the flames to hit them, but were surprised to find they were perfectly okay. 

“What the?” Hades remarked in confusion as he suddenly cooled down at the realization that his flames weren’t hitting his minions like usual. Hades tried burning the minions again with no luck. It seemed each time he tried the flames got shorter and shorter. Pain and Panic looked at each other in confusion as Hades turned away from them and looked at his hands.

“What in my name is going on? This has never happened before. Am I-? Nah, nah, I can’t be! I’m a god! I can’t lose my powers! That’s ridiculous!” Hades quietly reassured himself.

“Um, boss. Are you okay?” Pain asked curiously with a hint of concern. 

Hades turned back around to face his minions once more. “I will be as soon as you get me that stinkin’ soul index. Now!” Hades demanded as he pointed towards the opposite end of the halls.

“Right away, your maliciousness!” Pain replied anxiously as he started to skitter off. “We’ll get right on it, sir!” Panic replied as well as he followed after Pain. 

Hades rolled his eyes and looked at his hands again. His once annoyed and frustrated expression now turning to one of concern and anxiety. 

“This isn’t good. Looks like I’m gonna have to beseech some old friends for this one.”

~X~X~X~X~

“Ladies! How wonderful to see you again! So glad you could make it on such short notice, really!” Hades schmoozed as he entered his throne room to meet the ever-knowing (and ever-frustrating) Fates.

“Enough of the small talk, Hades.” Lachesis asked bluntly as she crossed her arms.

“Yes, we’re very busy you know!” Atropos said as she snipped her large scissors.

“Trust me, this won’t take long. Y’see recently I’ve noticed that my powers aren’t exactly…as strong as they used to be, y’know? And that’s not exactly good . I mean, if I don’t have my powers-“

“You can’t rule the Underworld.” The Fates interjected in unison.

“Right and if I can’t rule the Underworld then I can’t hold my status as a god. Well, a good one anyways. Look, the point is: I just can’t have that, okay? So, I need to know-“

“Why you’re losing your powers and how you can get them back. We know!” The Fates interjected once again.

Hades sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. “Yeah, I know. You know everything. I got that. Can you just do the little eyeball thing already?”

“Very well. I suppose we can make an exception in your case.” One of the fates replied as she snatched the eye away from one of her sisters’ faces. The Fates then proceeded to prophesies to Hades in verse how to regain his full godly powers, but before they could even get through the first sentence Hades spoke up.

“Seriously, verse? Oy, can’t you just explain this normally for once?” he asked as he rolled his eyes. “Do you want to know how to get your powers back or not?” One of the Fates asked in annoyance. “Alright, alright. Fair enough. Carry on.” Hades said as he gestured for them to continue their prophecy.

The Fates then explained that the reason Hades’ powers were fading was because Hades had been stuck in the River Styx for so long. The River cannot only drain life from mortals, but drain power from gods as well. If Hades didn’t find a way to get his powers fully restored then he’d lose them forever. However, there is only one way for Hades to restore his powers for good: marry a goddess just as powerful as he is.

“Woah, okay, let me get this straight: You’re telling me that unless I get hitched, I’m gonna lose my powers forever and become a useless lump of nothin’?!”

“Precisely.” answered Clotho.

“No, no, no, no. I don’t do marriage, okay? I’m a lone wolf. I’m not gonna tie myself down to some prissy little goddess. It’s just not how I roll. There’s gotta be another way.”

“This is your only choice, Hades. Either marry a goddess or lose your powers along with the Underworld. You have 1 year, exactly, to find a bride before your powers fade away forever.” Lachesis declared with caution. 

“Good luck, Hades.” said Atropos.

“You’re gonna need it!” cackled Clotho.

The other two sisters cackled along with her until their eye drew them all together in a ghost-like swirl until they were gone in a blink, their cackles echoing throughout the cavernous throne room.

Hades slowly walked over to his throne and flopped himself onto it, a look of disbelief plastered on his grey-blue face. “Ugh, I cannot believe this is happening.” he muttered to himself tiredly as he rubbed his temples. “A year. Thanks for the short notice. Sheesh, didn’t even give me the chance to ask who I’m supposed to be looking for. As if those know-it-alls would even tell me.”

Pain and Panic then appeared by his side. “What’s the matter, your most malevolent?“ Pain asked with an enthusiastic grin. “Di-Did the Fates tell you how to fix your uh, little power problem?” Panic asked nervously, hoping that bringing up his boss’ newfound problem wouldn’t send him into a rage. “Unfortunately, yes. I guess I have no other choice do I? Well, it’s now or never. Time to find me a wife.” Hades declared as he stood up from his throne.

“A Wife!?” The imps exclaimed in unison.

“Yes! A wife! Now, shut your faces so I can focus! I gotta pick the right one.” Hades snapped before manifesting a cloud of smoke that showed him whatever he wanted to see in real time. He called it “Tartarus Vision” (or “TV” for short.) Hades then proceeded to flip through the “channels” with the flick of his wrist.

“Alright, let’s see here. Who’s our next eligible bachelorette, huh? Oh, well definitely not her. She’s taken.“

Whoosh.

“Nope, way too clingy.”

Whoosh.

“She’s too annoying.”

Whoosh.

 “That one’s a total chatterbox.”

Whoosh.

“No…”

Whoosh.

“No….”

Whoosh.

“No!”

Whoosh.

“Ugh! Why is this so blippin’ difficult! I just need to find someone decent enough to marry! Is that too much to ask!?” Hades yelled, starting to lose his temper and patience. 

Hades then heard humming from his Tartarus vision and looked up to see a beautiful goddess kneeling in a meadow, carefully using her powers to plant flowers into the green grass below. She had light pink skin, long, hot pink hair, and beautiful violet eyes. She was chubby and curvier than most goddesses out there, but Hades didn’t really mind. After all, he liked a girl with a little meat on her bones. The goddess wore a flowing, pastel violet chiton with a golden rose clasp on her shoulder. Her crown was just as dainty as she was, a simple row of small, pastel colored roses and other small flowers sat atop her head.

“Hashi babba! Who. Is. that !?” he asked in awe as he stared at the goddess shown before him, his hair flaring up a little bit. This mysterious goddess had to be the most beautiful deity Hades had ever seen in all his eons of being a god. He thought she was prettier than Aphrodite herself. He just had to make her his wife.

Pain and Panic scurried up to Hades’ side to look at the magical smoke cloud displaying the goddess. “Oh, her? That’s Persephone, Goddess of Spring. Y’know? Demeter’s oldest daughter?” replied Pain.

“Demeter’s oldest daughter, huh? Ah, now I recognize her! She’s the little wall flower! She always tucks herself away during those Olympus shindigs.“ Hades recalled.

“In that case, she’ll be easy to convince! Uh…I mean seduce, heh!” Panic exclaimed. “Yeah! She’ll be too scared to even refuse and from what I’ve heard, she practically does what everyone tells her to do! She’s perfect for ya, boss!” Pain added with confidence.

“Y’know what, boys? For the first time ever, I think you’re right. Now I just gotta figure out a way to lure the little wall flower down here.”

~X~X~X~X~

Back on Earth, Persephone, goddess of spring, was busy bringing the spring season to Greece. At the moment, she was on a hillside planting flowers and melting any leftover snow from the winter. Poor Persephone had been working so hard over the past month. Her younger sister, Despoina, the goddess of winter, did not hold back from bringing tons and tons of snow and sleet to Greece last winter and, of course, it was Persephone’s job to clean it all up so the warmer seasons could begin.

Once she completed her task, she wandered up a hill to an apricot tree and proceeded to sprout fresh, ripe apricots on its branches as well as bright green leaves as the snow atop the tree began to melt. She picked one off of a low hanging branch and sat underneath the tree as she snacked on the sweet, delicious fruit. Persephone took a deep breath as she overlooked the beautiful flower field she had just created below the hill.

Dozens and dozens of colorful flowers covered the area from roses to tulips to sweet peas. However, one flower in particular stood out from the rest: a yellow daffodil. Persephone didn’t remember planting any daffodils in that area, especially not a bright yellow one amongst the pinks and reds and lavenders. She put her half eaten apricot on the ground and went down the hill to investigate.

As she approached the flower, she noticed how brightly colored it was. Now giving it a closer look, the flower appeared to be more of a golden color rather than a yellow color. It was practically glowing, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the afternoon sun or because it just stood out so much amongst the other flowers. Persephone then sat on her knees in front of the daffodil and observed it closely.

“This doesn’t look like my work. It doesn’t look like mother’s either. Did I somehow miss this while planting the other flowers in the field? Maybe this was from last spring and it somehow survived through the winter…okay, that’s a stretch, but it could maybe happen…right?” Persephone pondered as she looked at the golden daffodil before her.

Thinking nothing of it, Persephone plucked the yellow daffodil from the ground and held it gently in her hand. She then brought it up to her face and smelled it, wondering if this was some sort of special flower with a unique aroma.

“Smells like a normal daffodil. I don’t understand. Planting the spring flowers is my job. How did this get here?” Persephone wondered as she stared at the flower in her hand, twirling it around between her fingers.

All of the sudden, a loud rumbling noise came from beneath the ground. The earth practically vibrated and the rumbling noise became louder and louder as the vibrations grew stronger. The flowers in the field began to shake and sway from the commotion. Persephone became worried and tried to stand, but the vibrations from below were becoming so strong she could hardly keep her balance. 

CRRRACK

The earth beneath Persephone split wide open into a dark abyss and the spring goddess was being swallowed in. She tried grabbing onto the grassy ends of the earth, but the continuous vibrations kept her from keeping a firm grip. Her hands slipped from the edge and Persephone fell through the dark pit as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

#hercules #disney #disney hades #hades #hades disney #hades x persephone #persephone #persephone x hades #disney oc #Hercules oc #fanfiction #fanfic #Persephone oc #‘til death #hades hercules #persephades #disney’s hercules #hercules 1997 #hercules movie & series au #self insert oc

[discordapples]

PT. 1 - The Sallow Twins (Sebastian POV)

Word count: 1.8k (8 mins read)

Characters: Sebastian Sallow, Anne Sallow, Solomon Sallow.

Summary

The shy August wind needles through the greenery, but to Sebastian Sallow, it is the irksome tick of a clock. A year, that's how long he has to find a way to cure his sister's curse. A powerful relic, the Promissum Mortis, is hidden in Hogwarts' Room of Requirement, and Sebastian is desperate to find it.

Read (or listen to) the first chapter below. 🎧

TW: Nudity, mild allusions to a taboo relationship, drug use.

Sebastian | Feldcroft, Late August, 1893.

Curls of steams slink over the bathtub's lid. The heady aroma of wisterias reels Sebastian Sallow out of his daze.

He blinks once, twice, and his mother's warmth winnows away.

The washroom's air is thick with moisture. The wooden floorboards drink the flood water avidly.

With an irritated sigh, Sebastian dispels the Everstream Chalice and catches it before it falls to the floor.

Beneath a blanket of mist, his twin sister, Anne, sleeps soundly. She must've dozed off as he hummed the lullaby their mother used to sing:

Under the willow, where thrushes peep;

I will lay your heart to sleep.

Under the elm, where dreams take flight;

I will guard you through the night.

In this enchanted, moonlit glen;

Rest, my loves, till morn again.

Has he been gone for long?

His mouth is pasty with thirst, his mind, cottony with confusion.

Again, Malisect warped his sense of time despite Garreth Weasley's promises. The red-head's words swim up Sebastian's mind.

Some memories are more worthwhile than others, wouldn't you agree? What's sacrificing the gestation period of the Thestrals for another taste of your first kiss?

It isn't his first kiss, Sebastian revisits over and over again. It's the feeling of his mother's arms around his shoulders as they rode the carriage back from Hogsmeade.

Under the grip of Malisect, he can smell the dust sidling through the heap of books his mother hoarded in the compartment, he can sense the calidity of the summer dusk tease a lash of sweat on his nape, he can breathe the Plumeria and orange blossom fragrance of the oil his mother rubs into her hair, he can feel her heart pulse steadily against the boning of her corset.

She is alive.

Her scent grows, her warmth eddies, her research rattles in the compartment with each tremor of the wheel.

In this version of reality, she still has a future, no matter how immediate and limited it is.

It is so easy to sacrifice your own to give the dead a moment of respite from the permanent stillness.

Maybe his mother, too, can revisit these moments when he does.

The swirls of mist clear little by little, and Sebastian looks at his sister.

Anne's hair tendrils around her face; strands of golden brown locks that make her look every bit like an angel. Beneath the water, her lithe frame is immobile, frozen in time.

Sebastian hikes on his knees without a care for the damp circles the water-logged planks leave on his trousers.

She is beautiful in the clutch of slumber.

She is free.

No blustering pain, no spiny curse gnawing its way into her navel or noosing around her neck.

She is like a princess of yore, locked in her glass coffin, and perhaps Sebastian should award her this small mercy.

He palms his wand; the tip stopping inches away from the steaming surface.

"Avada—"

The incantation calcifies in his throat.

He has to mean it; he knows.

How many vials of Malisect would he need to swallow to relive moments with her if she was gone?

Weasley would have to slave in the potion's class for the brunt of his life if he hoped to satiate Sebastian's cravings.

No.

Anne needs to live.

And full of life she is, despite her peaceful inertia.

From where he stands, Sebastian can make the soft veer of her chest, the tiny ripples it sends along the surface, the whorls of steam she pushes away with her breath.

He lets his eyes wander to the slants and valleys of her body, to the pit of her sharp collarbone, constellated with freckles, the outline of her small, flecked breasts, the pinkish blooms of her nipples, and he stops his course there, wondering if any boy has rolled them between his fingers or sucked them between his lips.

Heart caroming against his ribs, Sebastian ventures a look across the white, silky expanse of her abdomen. His gaze beaches, for a while, on the reef of her hip. It catches in the nest of curls between her thighs, and his mind teems with images that aren't his to conjure.

He imagines a faceless boy dragging his thumb against her navel, then drawing circles in the crux of her hip, bound ever lower until he lands where the heat simmers. A finger slips inside, and the boy feeds her knuckles until her breath hitches. Then he pushes some more, wearing her tattered while her nails dig away into his back.

A loud thud resounds outside, and ripples churn the vision away. Sebastian gasps out of his trance as Anne startles awake.

"The towel," she says, panic bleeding through her eyes. She stands and Sebastian wraps it around her, rubbing her shoulders with his hands. "Sebastian..."

"What?"

Her eyes ream with white. "Leave. Now. Before uncle Solomon sees you."

Sighing, he grabs his wand and scrambles for his empty vials of Malisect before stuffing them into his pockets, then throws the door open. The mildewed air of the cottage claws its way into his throat.

Solomon is in the garden, wrestling with the water pump, and judging by the ruckus, he is in a despicable mood.

A single apple rests on the chopping block, its skin flecked with bruises. Sebastian cuts it in quarters, then sets it on a plate. In a cupboard, amidst a colony of breadcrumbs, he finds a dusty preserves jar of beets; wrapped in a linen rag, spoils a wedge of hard cheese. All of it, Sebastian arranges in a miserly pantomime of a dinner.

Soon, his last school year at Hogwarts will begin.

Soon, he'll be able to treat his sister to a proper meal, but for now, it'll have to do.

When Anne joins him in the kitchen, he is sitting at the table, before the silverware his parents used to dust for the Yule feast, the one his uncle Solomon still hasn't sold for a handful of Galleons.

He will soon enough, Sebastian knows it. His uncle has appraised most of his parents' heirlooms.

Anne gives a surprised smile. "What's all this for?"

Sebastian shrugs. "Can't say I never did anything nice for you."

A brow hikes up her forehead. "Practicing your good deeds for the House cup, brother?"

"The House cup is for star-eyed first years. I've long outgrown this childish competition."

Anne sits at the table, a smirk etched on her chin. "Have you outgrown Quidditch, too? I sure would enjoy to be spared from your whining every time Slytherin takes a bashing."

"Don't you get it, Anne?" He asks with a feigned offense. "I have to pretend like I care about Quidditch. Finding common interests is how you make friends, and having friends is like... Well... I guess it means you're a likeable person."

"Sure, Sebastian."

Sebastian says nothing else, careful not to err too close to all the things she misses so painfully.

She eats in silence, her gaze set on an invisible point in front of her. Through the fabric of her slip, Sebastian spies the shape of her breasts.

Will she ever know the youthful thrills he has?

Staying out past curfew, the lick of rebellion curling up your spine? Drinking until the walls shiver and the stars dip and the ground soars to meet you? Sliding your tongue past someone's lips to taste the sweetness of young love and feel like the world has stopped to take a breath?

The door swings open and Solomon drops a bundle of firewood next to the entryway with a groan.

His coal-black eyes hook on Sebastian, basting through each of his sutures in search of malice.

Sebastian raises a brow. "Need a hand?"

"Shouldn't you be on your way to Hogwarts?" Solomon asks curtly. "It's a long way on foot. You'll miss your ceremony."

"I've attended seven already. They're always the same."

"I heard there's a new student," Anne says. "An eighth year."

And a transfer from Kyiv's Winter College at that, but Sebastian has kept it under wraps, to avoid flaunting it in his sister's face.

He knows she has long resigned herself to her fate, but as his last year looms upon him, he knows it casts a taller shadow on his sister.

She will never attend graduation now. Next year, she will be far too old for it.

Knife in hand, Solomon endeavors to cut the branches from the logs and Sebastian rises to help him.

The vials clink in his pocket.

Enough to arouse his uncle's suspicions who unspools his spine slowly.

"Sebastian, is it what I think it is?"

Sebastian's palm closes around his pocket. "Galleons, that's all. I saved up for a new alembic after Ominis broke mine."

Color leaches from Anne's cheeks. She knows it's a lie, of course, but she says nothing.

"Don't lie to me," Solomon says, inching closer. "Turn out your pockets. Show me what's in them."

Sebastian angles out of his uncle's grasp, nearing the door.

Solomon's eyes are two pits of ire. "You've been using Malisect again?"

"You forgot to feed us most nights," Sebastian rasps. "I don't know why you care what I ingest."

Solomon presses forward, his knuckles blanching around the hilt of his knife. "Don't speak to me like this!"

"And don't pretend like you have a say in what I do," Sebastian hisses. "You kicked me out, remember? I was only here to look after Anne while you were gone. You shouldn't leave her alone for so long."

His cheeks burn. He wants to feel his wand between his fingers. He itches to speak the words, to see his uncle hit the ground, his lips noiseless forever.

But he thinks of Anne, who stares at them, utterly terrorized.

Solomon creeps closer. "I warned you not to use while you were under my roof."

In response, Sebastian rears until he stands under the watery sunlight. "Well, I'm no longer under your roof. Happy?"

"If I see a vial near my house, I'll report you to the headmaster. Am I clear?"

Sebastian doesn't even return the compliment of acknowledging his uncle's threat. Instead he whirls away, jaw clenched, and begins to walk toward the center of Feldcroft until he hears the door slam.

Feldcroft is silent, the villagers slowly retiring to their houses. Streamlets of smoke purl from chimneys and the scent of meat braids through the air. A shy August wind needles through the shrubbery. The stench of stale waters wings up from the well.

Sebastian hates this place.

After this year, he will become someone. An Auror, perhaps. Or a researcher, like his parents. He will spirit Anne away from this miserly village and live with her where nothing can touch her.

Something squeezes inside his chest.

He has a year to find what he seeks in Hogwarts. Nine months, and not one more, to find the Promissum Mortis—Death's Promise—and whisk Anne away from Solomon.

As the wind picks up, it carries the smells of September along with it.

Sebastian sets to walking.

The vials of Malisect chink softly in his pockets.

His mother will have to wait.

Anne, too.

Time is a merciless master and Sebastian, its most piteous slave.

--- 

Key concepts

Malisect: Malisect is a drug that enables the user to visit their fondest memories by holding onto a memento. For some users, this memento can take the form of a nursery rhyme, a scent, the feel of an object, etc. Malisect has been invented by Garreth Weasley, in 1891, when he was a sixth year student at Hogwarts.

Author notes

Since it doesn't sit right with me to write very dark stuff about minors, I decided to introduce an eighth year at Hogwarts. Therefore, all the characters are eighteen of age, which is the age of majority (at least in my country).

Don't hesitate to let me know what you thought of this first chapter.

Much love, 

Discord Apples

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow smut #ominis gaunt #dark retelling #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #dark romance #Youtube

[sophieswundergarten]

HEY BODS I LOOKED AT THE MEME NOW: S.O.S. CHAPTER 22 REACTION

@nobodysdaydreams I... I don't know what to say... I still have some suspicions... I don't even know anymore...

I’m already nervous

I love how Constance immediately tries to trap her in a big existential crisis

I already really like the Whisperer (You are very right, she reminds me a lot of Hera)

OH SHOOT

SHE BROKE HER

Oh dear…

And Garrison is really hesitant to actually get mad with Constance, but Constance is just being her usual self

Which is kind of funny, because what she’s doing to Garrison is what Garrison wanted her to do to the Whisperer

Someone needs to give Garrison a hug. And also help her not be evil-adjacent

Oh no

Oh, Garrison has been through so much at this point. In the Show this scene feels like another silly subversion of expectations where Constance (child) has the upper hand over Garrison (adult). But this is so much worse with the last twenty-some-odd chapters of context

“Friendless and alone” Oh boy. That feels like a pretty familiar summation of someone’s life…

Constance insulting the doll reminds me of her insulting Number Two’s “skeletal fortitude” in the books adhfdj

YEAH. YEAH CONSTANCE ASK HER ABOUT THE WHISPERER. SHE ACTUALLY KNOWS STUFF.

Oh. Oh no. Bods, if you make me cry over Garrison right now, sitting in the dark eating cold noodles, I swear—

And all Garrison wants is to hide. She doesn’t feel like she’s redeemable. But Constance is scaring her so much… I wonder what this says about her history with psychics

“And by this point, Garrison herself has erased and hidden so much from herself and from her own head, that even she didn’t know the full truth of what she had sacrificed to create the Whisperer” I’M GOING TO CRY ABOUT GARRISON HERE IN THE DARK WITH MY COLD NOODLES. THAT’S THE LAST STRAW.

As promised, 30% of your light switches have been covered in two inches of duct tape :) 

GARRISON BACKSTORY

I’M SCREAMING

I AM SO CONCERNED FOR HER

Oh, Garrison. Accommodations are really helpful. I know it’s scary, but you don’t have to always be on your own :( 

MILLIGAN

Milligan is the best I love him he’s so great

“He looked out for everybody. Garrison didn’t even have the strength to look after herself”

Oh, Garrison. Oh no.

I definitely understand the frustration of having a hiding spot at the top of the library and then having it disturbed

“He dressed as if he was constantly going to a job interview and carried himself with an attitude that suggested he was going to be the one doing the interviewing” I’m glad she can tell that he’s ridiculous and pompous at first glance

“Garrison wondered whether he actually believed that anyone fell for his façade. He seemed to try so hard to present himself as this perfectly approachable, emotionally balanced, intelligent, and all-knowing person, and yet he was unfailingly unable to hide the satisfaction and hunger on his face whenever he received any praise or achievement under his poorly crafted mask of false modesty.”

YES. TEAR HIM TO SHREDS.

Ajkddfjkdjf

Now they’re nemeses. They’re delightful

Curtain really is so arrogant and out of touch, even back then

SHE THOUGHT HE’D LEAVE. SHE UNDERESTIMATED HOW PETTY THIS GUY IS.

“The concept of having someone else in her space did bother Garrison, but she supposed that it bothered her nemesis as well, so in a way, that made it even. They could be uncomfortable together. And she knew she could count on him not to try to engage her in conversation, so in a way, Garrison was still alone”

Oh boy. She needs some help. And a big hug. Knowing what’s coming is somehow making it worse

OH

OH HE FELL ASLEEP IN FRONT OF HER

THE DRAMATIC IRONY

GARRISON DOESN’T UNDERSTAND

oh

HE COVERED HER WITH A BLANKET

This poor lady. She’s so tired :( 

AKJHdfskjhdfsa

Pedalian is her lab partner

This is amazing

I always love Pedalian content

BUT ALSO OH MY WORD

“He would occasionally ask Garrison some questions, but most of the time he was content to broadcast his own thoughts on a continuous stream, without any apparent consideration as to how his words might sound to other people. Which many would have judged, but Garrison did not. Pedalian’s ideas were interesting, and his thoughts gave Garrison a welcome distraction from her own.” Bods, your words are so pretty

Afjsdjkadkj He refuses to tell them what “L. D.” stands for. Of course. I forget sometimes that not everyone knows

AND THIS BIT. WHERE MILLIGAN SAYS THAT THEY’RE ALONE TOO. JUST LIKE IN THE FIRST BOOK WHEN THE KIDS MEET. IT ALWAYS HURTS SO MUCH

“They might not have been biologically related to her, but blood-related or not, they were Garrison’s older brothers. They took care of her, and they loved her, and she loved them, more than anything”

Oohhhhhhhh. We talked about this, chapters and chapters ago. Oh.

“But then something unexpected happened. Her friends didn’t think her dream was impossible. They said her ideas were brilliant, they offered her solutions to her problems, and then they offered her the greatest gift imaginable. They offered her their minds, their livelihoods, and their resources, more talent, money, and manpower than Garrison could ever have thought possible. It was her one chance to build her machines, her one chance to have the safety and security she had always dreamed of”

If I wasn’t such a sad pathetic mess I would have done much more property damage at this point. I’m painting exactly one of your doors a very obnoxious colour of yellow. The horrible lurid neon kind that almost looks green.

“ Yes, Pedalian was a brilliant neuroscientist, and yes, he had known what he was doing, but… if Garrison had told her friends the truth about what her machines could do…if she had done more for Pedalian… if she hadn’t been willing to lie to ensure that her machines were built… if she hadn’t fought so hard to survive for so many years and had just given up on herself years ago… then… / Then her friend would still be here.”

Bods. Your salt and pepper shakers. They live in a hole in the ground now.

 “Her morals and ethics were the price she had to pay for secrets, and it was a price that Garrison paid over and over again, piece by piece, giving more of herself away each time she crossed another ethical boundary, from erasing her friend’s memories to experimenting on children.” You’re really not holding back this chapter, are you?

“She did this again and again until finally, Garrison found that she could no longer live with the guilt inside of her. She looked in the mirror to find the woman that she once thought she knew was gone, replaced by the monster that had destroyed her family, the monster whose machines had killed one friend, separated another from his daughter forever, and turned her other friend into someone who was just as horrible as she was. And when it came to the final point of choosing between her inventions and her family, Garrison found that she didn’t have a family to choose anymore.”

OH OKAY. YEAH. I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE. ALL YOUR LAMPS HAVE BLACKLIGHT BULBS IN THEM. YOUR FRIDGE LIGHT IS BROKEN AS WELL AS YOUR MICROWAVE LIGHT. MORE PROPERTY DAMAGE TO BE DETERMINED LATER

Oh no. And Constance doesn’t get it. Of course she doesn’t. That must be terrifying.

DON’T CALL HER A COWARD. SHE MADE SOME MISTAKES BUT THAT’S JUST GOING TO HURT HER SO MUCH MORE. CONSTANCE YOU DON’T HAVE THE WHOLE STORY

She was all alone… And she’s still alone…

Milligan and Miss Perumal are an awesome team

But you’re not forgiven yet, Bods

WAIT

IS THAT WHY SHE FOUND KATE??? BECAUSE SHE WAS PART OF SOME CHILD RECOVERY DEPARTMENT BEFORE IT GOT SHUT DOWN?????

… Is this part of where the Mafia Reynie idea came from?

I’m glad you wrote her a good backstory, though (Still unforgiven)

AND HE STILL THINKS HE’S A HORRIBLE PERSON. OH, HE’S IN THE SAME BOAT AS GARRISON. THIS IS AWFUL

I keep going back to that scene where Garrison thinks Milligan is going to hurt her at the Institute and even though he’s frantic and desperate he just wishes he could help her…

“ “I do. I’ve spent a lot of time looking into the eyes of people who have done terrible things. I’ve also spent a lot of time around people who are genuine, selfless, and kind. I know what kind of person you are. So does your daughter, and the rest of the children, and your friends.” ” Bods, once again you outdo yourself

Aaaaaaannd we’re back to poor Number Two at her wits end while Nicholas is caught in a stupid mental mirror maze of sunbeams and confusion. Yipee. /s

I do love that they get at least slightly distracted by the fabric texture though asdhfjasfd

And there’s that thing about him not being a burden again. I feel that :( 

Nicholas is all concerned over here (As he probably would be normally, just in a more befuddled way) and Number Two is out for blood because Curtain hurt her family. I can’t wait to see you narrate her when Constance freezes up. I’ll probably lose it then too

“brief kidnapping” Asfkjfskj I love these people

MARLON /derogatory

This is the bit where he gets what’s coming to him. I bet you were really excited to write this, weren’t you?

STOP BEING MEAN TO JACKSON AND JILLSON

Uugghghhghg Every time I read about him in S.O.S. I am struck with a need to write revenge fics where terrible things happen to Marlon because he’s so mean to the two of them adjsdkjf

Y’know. I’m not even going to question the Alpaca. Good for him. I hope he enjoys his lunch.

OH NO IT’S GARRISON TIME AGAIN

“And then, at last, Garrison had enough, and she felt the now familiar feeling of another one of her moral boundaries crumbling to dust inside of her.” Oh dear, Garrison. I wish Milligan could just take her with them at the end of this bit. She needs a lot of help. Don’t leave her all alone in the sad rootcellar

(I mean, please don’t leave the Whisperer alone either. But I have no clue how that would work at the moment)

“And they all had people who loved them and could remind them of who they were, which was more than Garrison could say for herself.” EXCUSE ME???? MA’AM???? ARE YOU OKAY???? OBVIOUSLY NOT!!!!

OH OKAY. AND IT ENDS THERE????? HOW DARE YOU. YOU KNOW I LOVE YOUR WRITING BUT ALL I HAVE FOR YOU IS SCREAMING AT THE MOMENT. I LOVE YOU BODS BUT WHAT ON EARTH. IT IS LITERALLY JUST SCREECHES IN MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW

#s.o.s. #You will be hearing about this my friend

[thoughtsaboutshows]

4 “I just want to relax in your arms”

In a future world where Nick is back. And it’s Sabrina’s birthday

Sometimes it still amazes her that everything ended up working in their favor. From pretty much the day she turned sixteen Sabrina’s life was catapulted into chaos, her relationship with Nick not always an exception.

Undeniable. Passionate. Unrelenting. That is how Sabrina always preferred to describe her relationship with Nick. However, chaotic seemed to describe it well too with the numerous times they’d each sacrificed themselves for the other.

They didn’t have to worry about that any longer though. Some ancient loophole and favor from the Lilith, the now Queen of Hell, allowed Sabrina to pull Nick back for good. No psychopomps gathered when she pulled him into his arms, and none came hunting when she pulled him into her room. Their room now, neither were willing to spend another night alone.

And today, today was Sabrina’s 25th birthday. They hadn’t spent a birthday of hers earth-side since her disastrous 17th, and Nick was determined to make this one the best yet.

He kissed the top of her head as he felt her start to shift in his arms. And he chuckled when she groaned, not quite ready to be awake. They’d worked each other to exhaustion the night before, Nick having given her her very first birthday gift right there in their bed as the clock struck midnight. It was a few hours before they finally fell asleep tangled in each other’s embrace, Sabrina barely moving an inch since shutting her eyes.

“Happy birthday, Spellman.” Nick whispered as he ran a hand through her hair and down her back. When she lifted her head from his chest she smiled and had one eye open and Nick gave her the kiss on the lips he knew she wanted. 

“G’morning.” She whispered with a sweet cadence before snuggling back into his arms. Her next words were muffled against his chest, and he felt her kiss him there. “I love you.”

“I love you too, babe.” Nick continued to rub her back soothingly, letting them both bask in the morning light a bit. “I…I’m really glad you were born.”

Sabrina heard the slightly solemn hint to his tone so she lifted her head to see him.

“And I’m really glad that you’re here.” Sabrina said before sitting up and kissing him deeply, sinking a thousand I love you’s into each press of their lips. She sighed and pressed her forehead to his, breathing deeply. “I just want to relax in your arms. All day.”

Nick kissed her again, soft and tender before smirking.

“You know there’s nothing I’d rather do than hog you and keep you in bed all day.” Nick brushed her hair back as she blushed at the though. “But I think your family would be upset if I didn’t share.”

“I’m still mad at them.” Sabrina sat up and crossed her arms like a stubborn toddler and it made Nick chuckle.

“I know, babe, but it’s your birthday.” He squeezed her cheek and her annoyed look popped into a smile. “Plus everything worked out okay didn’t it?”

“My aunties have gotten me for my last seven birthdays, Nick.” She reached over and let her fingers dance along his chest, her voice growing somber. “You were gone for so long and I-”. She pressed her lips together and willed the tear not to fall. Not today, on her first happy birthday in a long time. “I just love you so much. I want us to have time to celebrate.”

Nick moved so his back was against the headrest and he could pull her to his chest. He did this often, laying her ear right above his heartbeat. The sound calmed her down, her body recognizing that his was wonderfully and beautifully alive.

“We are going to have a thousand more birthdays to celebrate, Spellman.” He kissed the top of her head and let her linger there a moment. “Hecate, I love you so much.”

She lifted her head to look at him and smiled softly, kissing him deeply again before returning the statement.

“I think your aunties could spare a little more time, don’t you think?” Nick asked her after a minute and her wide answering smile confirmed he was right. “I think it’s present time.”

Her face lit up even more as she looked at him.

“Presents?” He smirked at her and kissed her cheek, leaning over the bed to grab what was a giant bag of gifts. “Nick…that’s too much!”

“Never.” Nick shook his head before smirking wider. “Besides I missed seven birthdays. I have to catch up.”

She couldn’t tackle him back to the bed fast enough.

Gif by: @bettyjugheads

#nabrina #sabrina spellman #nicholas scratch #Nabrina prompts #happy birthday Sabrina

[silver-wield]

Gosh, SE what are you doing? I recently read a japanese news article where the general public are loosing interest in the games they recently made. There's so many competitors in the market that are rising up even if they had their moment. Now they're even welcoming the idea of AI, before it was NFT. I wonder if this business practice of sacrificing their character's reputation for mere fan service is a reason for this too. For example, it's evident that they've also tried to please BL fans, specifically sephiroth x cloud and non canon ships such as the one in the trailer. I know some don't like yuffie to be shipped with cloud, but I find this to be difficult. They gave Jessie a moment to kiss cloud on the cheek, was that even there originally?

SE knows what they are doing and whtvr backlash they get from this, starting with Jessie's#1 stalker, C/As harasing SE and any tifa and zack related things, etc. are imo the company's fault. Maybe the trailer is for bait and trolling like they did in part 1, but just like sephiroth x cloud fans, they really really believe this will be a real thing. It's easy to chalk it up to shippers gonna ship but I'm disappointed at this approach. Giving them an inch, and they take a mile. Why do they even deserve an inch though?

They did something like this in our Detective Conan fandom. Made a fanon ship kiss in a non-canon movie for the sake of fan service. Mind you, the studio made technically two kids kiss on screen even though the mc is in a serious relationship and never reciprocated any for the other female character. Now they think they also have a chance because of this fanon fan service.

I hate when they try to profit out of this. They say they're afraid of threats? But the one's who have to take the salt after are the one's who respect canon and care about the game. How are we supposed to enjoy this game in silence when SE themselves keep fuelling an awful delusion.

I think they're out of touch with their market and just throwing everything at the wall trying to see what sticks.

Xvi was a good effort but that old style mindset of being ambiguous and open ended to try and generate constant interest just doesn't work anymore. Players want their happy endings. Life is so shit all the time one way or another that we don't wanna invest 100hrs into a game that doesn't fully satisfy us.

And we want them to write female characters better. It's not an excuse to throw your hands up all "I don't write women well" and then expect us to be happy with shit writing if they're including romance in their games.

Get fucking good.

They need to stop obsessing over how to scam money out of us and just give us good content. That includes good translations. We're not idiots who let things like that slide and we react accordingly by not buying future releases.

Basically they're trying too hard to take our money and not giving us the quality we deserve for what they're asking.

#final fantasy 7 remake #ff7r #ffviir #final fantasy 7r #final fantasy viir