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dc-marvel-life · 9 months

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Works Every Time

Pairing: Captain Marvel x Wonder Woman x reader

Request: I saw that your requests are open! If you wouldn’t mind could you please do a crossover fic where Captain Marvel and Wonder Woman are soulmates and found each other on a mission but they know they have a 3rd mate. When they go on a mission at a Hydra base they find female reader who had been experimented on since she was young so they have to teach her all about soulmates and Diana and Carol are super over-protective but also giant teddy-bears for reader? - by anon

Word Count: 1502

– – –

You have lived in the same confined space for as long as you can remember. You know nothing about the outside world but what you have heard from the scientist experimenting on you. You never understood why they took you and experimented on you as a child. All you knew was that your blood was extraordinary, and they had to take a lot of it every morning.

Today was like no other for you. You get woken up by the giant fluorescent lights that wake you up simultaneously every day. Then your food is given to you through the slot on the door. It was enough food to keep you alive. You never thought it was because you were a pretty small, weak person, even after all the blood they take from you daily.

After you finish your breakfast, you put the tray back in the slot to let them know you are ready.

“165, step away from the door and put your hands up,” the guard says from the other side of the door. You step away from the door and put your hands up like normal. You never know why they had to do this because you were too weak to fight back. By the off chance of you fighting back and getting out of here, you didn’t know where to go. This place was home to you, and you couldn’t leave home. The only thing you ever wanted to do was go outside and feel the sun on your face. The way the scientist talks about the sun excites you, even if they complain about it sometimes. It sounded better than the fluorescent lights that hit your skin every day.

The guard opens the door and steps through but stops when an alarm goes off. The alarm was so loud and foreign to you that you had to cover your ears and shut your eyes. After what felt like centuries, the alarm stops going off. You remove your hands and slowly open your eyes to see that your door is open with no guards.

“This is my chance. This is my chance to leave this place,” you say to yourself and try to get up but cannot. Fear took over and made you unable to move. You wanted to leave here so bad, but your body was in shock and couldn’t move, and you started to cry.

You started to hear noises coming down the hallway. You ignore it because the guards are probably coming by to check to see if you left. They would see you in the same spot and laugh at you about how pathetic you are.

“Shhh, don’t you hear that,” an unknown voice says down the hallway, which makes you stop crying for a second.

“I don’t hear anything, babe; let's go and finish clearing the building so we can go back and cuddle,” a second unknown voice says. You stay quiet in order to hear the beautiful voices again.

“I do too, but I swear I heard someone crying. I am going to look around some more,” the first unknown voice says and walks closer to your cell. The footsteps come closer and closer to your cell until the most beautiful two women you have ever seen come to your door.

“See, I told you I heard something,” the taller brunette women with a sword and shield say, walking closer to you. You cringe a little because you aren’t a huge fan of weapons.

“Hey, I am not going to hurt you,” the brunette puts her hands up and slowly drops her weapons on the floor.

“See, we are good here and are just trying to help. My name is Diana, and this is one of my soulmates, Carol. What is your name? ” Diana says, then points to Carol, who is right behind her.

“Soulmate?” you question either than answer her question.

“Yes, soulmate. Everybody has at least one soulmate in the world. A soulmate is a person that is supposed to connect with your mind and body. They make you feel whole and complete and will love you unconditionally. I am surprised that you never heard of them before,” Diana says, walking slowly toward you and lowering to your level.

“How you can tell your soulmate is by the marks on your arm,” Carol shows off her soulmate marks that are on her arm, then Diana, that match each other. You look carefully at the two marks.

“I know ours is a little different because we have a third soulmate. We are still looking for her, though,” Carol says with a saddened face. You look at the pair with saddened faces because they haven’t found the third soulmate they have been looking for for years.

Even though you just met them, you wanted to make them feel better. You roll up your sleeve to show them the same mark that you had on your arm.

“If it makes you guys feel any better, I have the same mark,” you show them your mark. They look at your mark closely with wide eyes and start to come closer to you.

“Can we take a closer look, sweetie?” Diana says in a soft tone, and you nod. They both approach you slowly and calmly to look at your mark.

“Do you know what this means?” Carol says with watery eyes, and you shake your head.

“No, I have never heard of soulmates until now,” you say, ashamed.

Don’t worry, sweetie, we will teach you everything that you need to know” Diana and Carol smile at you, which makes you know that you are going to be safe with them.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –

It has been a few months since your soulmates found you in that hole at Hydra. They help you experience the world that you never thought you would. You learned a lot about soulmates the first day they brought you back. They didn’t do anything with you because they wanted to ensure you were comfortable with them before anything happened.

They gave you the shared king bed in their apartment while they slept on the floor and couch. You felt so bad, but they insisted on it. Eventually, they moved to the bed with you, which you love. They put you in the middle of the bed while cuddling you tight to ensure you don’t leave.

You meant both teams that they are on, and everyone loves you. They even help you train to become stronger.

Now you are training with Natasha and Dinah, working on hand-to-hand combat.

“You have to keep your hands up at all times to protect your face” Dinah moves your hands to the side of your head in a defense stance. You sigh out of exhaustion because you have been training with Black Widow and Black Canary for about two hours. You want to go back to your apartment and cuddle with your girlfriends.

“Good, just like that because if I swing at you,” Natasha comes at you with a right hook, not hard enough to hurt you, that you block, “ you are protected. Now, if your hands are down,” zone out of the conversation because you heard your girlfriends come into the training room. You turn your head excited to see them, forgetting that Natasha is demonstrating what not to do during a fight.

The next thing you know, Natasha punches you in the face. Luckily she didn’t put her full force behind it because you would have been knocked out. You turn back to Natasha and see her shocked face.

“I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you! This is why you need to put your hands up,” Natasha turns to look at your girlfriends.

“I swear I didn’t mean to hit her. I was showing her why she needed to put her hands up. I didn’t think that she would actually not pay attention,” Natasha says, but it was too late. Carol and Diana were already chasing her around the training room.

“Can you please tell your girlfriends to not kill my girlfriend?” Dinah says to you.

“Yeah, sorry. This happens whenever they think I am being threaten. I am impressed because this is the longest they have chased someone. Normally they would have caught the person by now” You and Dinah laugh together.

“Yeah, that’s my badass girlfriend” Dinah admires Natasha’s ass that is being chased.

“Babes! Babes stop! She didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention to what she was showing me. I was too busy admiring two angels walking in,” You say, then Diana and Carol stop dead in their tracks, awwing at you.

“Works every time,” you whisper to Dinah, smirking.

“Now, can we go home so I can cuddle with you two?” You say to your girlfriends, pouting.

“Of course, sweetie,” Diana says while she and Carol walk over to you.

“I call being the middle spoon,” you say, jumping in place and feeling kiss each side of your cheek.

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pharaorising · 1 month

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❝ There is no death. Only immortality. I will outlive you, because I will be remembered. My tenure as a pharaoh may have been short, but while your bones crumble to dust, I will rise again and wander the earth.❞

MARIK AKAY RIZK ⸻ is a perfectly normal young man in his thirties who appeared out of nowhere one day and has been wandering the mortal world ever since. He can usually be found by the side of the Professor, whom Marik would not call his best friend, but a companion. He usually shines with his extraordinary knowledge of ancient Egyptian culture and his ignorance of newer technology and 21st century day-to-day things. Marik is a very quiet person who avoids swearing and makes well-thought-out statements. True to the motto: »A shut mouth catches no flies.« Along with his knowledge of ancient civilisations, Marik also comes with a secret in his pockets. The connection to the realm of the dead plays a tiny supporting role. He should always be enjoyed with caution, because as we all know: still waters run deep.

21+ - minors and non-rp blogs DNI!, independent, fandomless & selective roleplay account with low to high activity. Crafted for FakeVZ. Crossover and multiverse-friendly, texts in german are highly preferred. Currently OPEN for plotting. // est. in march '24

|| Rules (de/eng) | promo © | Kompagnon ||

#「1 ⸻ 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴 𓆣 #「2 ⸻ 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙸𝙺 𓆣 #「3 ⸻ 𝙰𝙿𝙿𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙰𝙽𝙲𝙴 𓆣 #「4 ⸻ 𝙰𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚂 𓆣 #「5 ⸻ 𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝙰𝙻 𓆣 #「6 ⸻ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙴𝙲𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽𝚂 𓆣 #「6a ⸻ 𝙵𝚁𝙸𝙴𝙽𝙳𝚂 𓆣 #「6b ⸻ 𝙴𝙽𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙴𝚂 𓆣 #「6c ⸻ 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 𓆣 #「7 ⸻ 𝚆𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𓆣 #「8 ⸻ 𝙾𝙾𝙲 𓆣 #「9 ⸻ 𝙸𝙽𝙱𝙾𝚇 𓆣 #「10 ⸻ 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚈𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 𓆣 #「11 ⸻ 𝙴𝙳𝙸𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𓆣 #「12 ⸻ 𝙶𝙰𝙼𝙴𝚂 𓆣 #userfakevz #「8a₁ ⸻ 𝚂𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙲𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𓆣 #「13 ⸻ 𝙹𝙾𝚄𝚁𝙽𝙴𝚈 𓆣 #「14 ⸻ 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝚂 𓆣

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ghoularaki · 1 year

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Loved your baj keisuke primal prey fic! Especially the plot in the chase was soo good eventhough it was the built up!

I was wondering if you'd be cool with writing something along the lines of a crossover of a yokai or a vampire. I would love a little demonic energy. Along the lines of denying feelings, to being in heat/need for blood (?) To a little chasing and well wooing in the yandere way >>:)

Happy holidays ! :DD

my bloody valentine

ig chase scenes and clubs are just gonna become my staple, i aint complaining >:) (meant to post this on valentine's so heres a 12 day late holiday fic lmao)

tw yandere vampire! baji, vampire hunter! reader, manipulative! baji, aged up! baji, dom! baji, DUBCON, violence/blood, sex work?, blood play, biting, praise, breath play, drugging, cunnilingus, overstimulation, size kink, reader almost dies from blood loss, hinted mindbreak

You blew hot air into your freezing hands. The warmth would only linger for a second but it was idle movement that kept you busy. This winter was incredibly cruel this year. Shivering, you look around into the den you will be infiltrating. You can’t say you weren’t thrilled to be given this mission by the Higher Ones.

Humans and vampires have been at war since life and death were created. It was a constant push and pull. Humans would win for a century, vampires would retaliate, then vampires would reign for the same length. You were sadly born in the time where vampires ruled. Most humans kept to themselves, some would even offer themselves to be feeds for promises of luxury. Others would hand over their lives in a different way, swear an oath to the Higher Ones to wipe out vampires for once and for all.

None of the hunters—or rather cleansers—knew exactly who the Higher Ones were. All cleansers knew was that they would receive a message whether in the mail or on their phones with a simple location and target. The target was usually the sire, cut the head of the snake and others will follow. It wasn’t rare for cleansers to work alone. Usually you would be given a partner but for this mission, you were left to your own devices. It’s not like you worked well with others, anyway. Maybe the Higher Ones finally got the message, or they were trying to kill you off. Either way, you were going to finish this mission and reap the benefits.

Flipping your phone open, you spied the message. Your mission was to pretend to be a feed to cleanse a higher ranking vampire by the name of Baji Keisuke. The number of those sired to him wasn’t the highest count—only somewhere around a dozen—a concerningly low number considering he usually had a feed.

Slipping your phone into your jacket pocket you finally make your way into the den disguised as a club. For some reason there was no bouncer at the door. Immediately you were hit with the thumping of a constant bass. Up high was a platform where a DJ set the mood for the atmosphere. The only illumination were red, flashing lights that cut through the artificial fog. There was a gaggle of grinding bodies throughout the room. By the bar were even more people. A balcony was right over the bar which you assumed was where the feeding rooms were. Glancing up, you swore you felt eyes boring right into you, but as you squinted your eyes to see farther, all the vampires hanging off the side were enjoying the show.

On high alert, deep in vampire territory, you were surprised that no one had smelt your very human scent.

“You must be lost!” A sweet, bubbly voice called to you.

Not knowing how you didn’t sense her, a petite woman stood before you. To say she was beautiful was an understatement. This woman had dazzling hazel eyes paired with soft-looking, blonde hair. Her skin was just as perfect, no blemish in sight that made you want to cover your own face. The best way to describe her was as angelic.

“Oh!” She piped up, realization on her face, “you must be a new feed.”

Straightening up, you replied, “how could you tell?”

“I can smell you, silly.”

She tapped her nose. Looking closer, from her grin you could see the baby fangs poking out.

“Yes, I don’t really know what to do, though.”

“I’ll take you to Draken!”

You were correct to describe her as bubbly. Minutes into knowing you, she wrapped her arm with yours and led you to whoever Draken was. Pushing her way through the crowds, she pulled you towards a set of doors near the bar. Now under the balcony, the feeling of being gawked at went away. You needed to be more careful.

Past the doors was a hallway not as smokey and loud as the club. A few couples leaned against the wall in their own worlds. Further down the hall stood a gargantuan man with a long, blond braid. On the side of his head was an intricate, blackwork tattoo: you can’t imagine how much it must have hurt.

“Draken,” the girl called with you in toe.

He looked up from his phone to see you both. His eyebrow twitched. He seemed displeased with said girl.

“Emma, why did you bring a human back here?”

Ah, so that’s why he was so pissed.

She ignored his question, “she’s a new feed.”

His eyes widen at that, almost relieved, “thank fuck,” he turned to you, “have you ever been a feed before?”

Pretending to seem insecure and meek, you shook your head no. Sensing your nervousness, Draken took you from Emma. She had made a noise of protest, but he had given her a look.

The hand on your shoulder was warm. He must have fed recently. It was true vampires were cold to the touch, but once they satiate their carnal needs, the blood they drank would warm their system for about an hour before becoming cold again like freshly baked cake left to cool for too long. That is why so many vampires indulged, to feel the warmth of being human again.

Further down the hallway you two went. Draken cleared his throat, “I’m sure you know that being a feed means that you will have a vampire drink from you.”

When you nod your head, he continued.

“Feeding doesn’t hurt if you are worried about that at all. Anyway, how we do feeding here is that we make sure that all feeds' needs are met. You will always be allowed breaks, and plenty of foods and drinks to bring back up your blood sugar. You also have the option of anything sexual happening and whether or not penetration will happen as well.”

Your face heated up at the implication, “no sex or anything like that, please.”

“Good to know.”

Draken led you up a flight of stairs to what you saw was the balcony you were previously looking at. Similar to the hallway, the walls were a burgundy with gold detailings. How stereotypical.

“I will inform who will be feeding from you what you decided. Wait here.”

With that, he went into a room beside you. You looked left and then right. While taking you upstairs, you memorized the route in case something goes wrong. You needed a fast escape in case. This mission was completely solo so you had to watch your own back.

Draken pushing the door back open startled you out of your thoughts. The door was left wide open as he gestured for you to come in. Taking the invitation, the room was just as red as the rest of the club. In the room were two wine hued, velvet couches adjacent to each other. Right between them was a mahogany table, under what was a mini fridge. You guessed that’s were all food and drinks you were promised for your blood sugar was.

The most eye-catching part was the three men in the room sat on said couches. On the sofa to the right were two men, one had bleach blond hair. You could tell from here that he was on the shorter side but you didn’t let that fool you. He had an alluring, cat-like look to him.

On the other hand, the man beside him had honey gold, rounded eyes. His hair dangled past his shoulders with yellow money pieces framing his sculpted face. Along with that, thick inking was displayed on the side of his neck depicting a tiger. It oddly suited him.

But what grabbed your attention the most was the vampire sitting on his lonesome, arms sprawled over the back of the couch. Legs spread as well, his whole posture demanded attention. He tilted his head to the side with a cocky smile. His hair was in a similar style to the tattooed man across from him. Though, the vampire’s hair was that of spilled ink. It tumbled around him, his fair complexion all the more pale in contrast. Similar to Emma, his fangs were on display as he smiled up at you as a cat to an unsuspecting mouse.

“Must be the new plaything,” the black haired vampire teased.

The bottle blond scoffed, “don’t scare her, Baji.”

You schooled your expression. That was a lot easier than you thought to find your target. So sure you would have to ask around without being conspicuous to find him, this seemed almost too easy.

Baji reached a hand out from where he sat. Taming your disgust, you leave the security of the doorway and enter the belly of the beast. Placing your hand into his freezing, larger palm, Draken took his leave and closed you in with the enemy. Forgoing any formalities, Baji pulled you right into his lap. You struggled in shock but he was quick to snuff the resistance by gripping your hips.

The other vampires in the room laughed. You silently seethed being used as a toy for their sick entertainment. Knowing in this position you couldn’t even imagine taking down the vampire, you melted into his chest.

“Atta girl,” he sighed into your ear.

Coming down from their giggles, the other men introduce themselves.

“I’m Chifuyu. I will not apologize for Baji because he will just be annoying,” the bottle blond—Chifuyu—clarified with no malice in his voice. Baji playfully snarled at him.

“Kazutora. Lets hope you last longer than the other ones,” the tattooed vampire spoke cryptically. How reassuring.

Chifuyu elbowed him.

Ignoring the bickering, Baji placed his attention on you, “Don’t listen to him. I don’t intend to break you… yet.”

“I don’t like what that implies.”

The room became silent at your sass. Kazutora smirked, “so the little lamb has fangs as well.”

You clamped your mouth shut at that. Baji adjusted you in his lap, but he didn’t give away any displeasure.

At that, the room becomes lively once again. Your presence was completely ignored. You didn’t know if you should be insulted or not. The strangest part was the whole time, Baji didn’t feed from you at all. Besides in the beginning of the session, he had not even grazed your neck. This confused you as you were sure it has been weeks since he has fed. His self control was terrifying if he could starve himself and have basically raw meat served to him on a silver platter and not give into temptation.

You tried your best to keep your cool and slow your pulse to not show how confused you were. By the end of the night, Baji had sent you away by dragging his nose up the length of your neck.

Kissing the skin beneath your ear, “‘til tomorrow, pet.”

In a daze, you leave his lap and walk out of the den with not a scratch on you. As you made your way back to your hideout, you completely forgot about your goal of immediately annihilating him.

You were awoken with two text messages. One from a Higher One and another from Draken. While walking down the hall, you had totally forgotten you had given your number so he could contact you when Baji wanted you. You were officially Baji’s feed.

ONE WEEK

sent 10:00 AM

Come to the club at 10 pm

sent 5:53 AM

Throwing your phone in anger at the first message, you racked a hand down your face. How the fuck where you supposed to kill him in a week? These old fucks were definitely trying to kill you off.

Sending a thumbs up to Draken, you lay in bed contemplating your next move to take out this den.

When you went back to the club, you were met with Draken at the door this time. He guided you through the crowds. You caught a glimpse of Emma, exchanging a shy wave to her overexcited one.

Going down the same path to the room, you once again mark in your head how to swiftly get out of the building. There were no windows to not let sunlight touch the inside. Vampires didn’t burn up in the sun, but it could make them ill if exposed for too long, like a worm stuck on the concrete on a summer day.

Deja vu crept in when you walked in just as you did yesterday to see the same vampires in the same position. You could tell yourself that they never left like dolls in a dollhouse waiting for whatever child to play with them again.

Baji welcomed you back into his icy embrace. Less skittish as the day before, you thaw into his cold body. They went back to their conversation. You played the part of a lap dog for these beasts.

This went on for seven more days.

Anxiety bubbled up inside you. This was the last day given to you to complete this assignment. Typically, you were fast at finishing a job, but for some reason you had dragged this one out. Maybe it was the first time you had to actually get close to a target instead of your usual shoot and leave. You had grown comfortable with the company of those three vampires. Dare you say, safe, as no one had harmed a hair on your head. It had been years since you had been cared for. It was hard to befriend fellow cleansers as you never knew who would make it back, whether it was a vampire or by the Higher Ones’ hands.

There was a reason not many chose to be cleansers, most didn’t even have a choice. You bared through the cards dealt to you. You can’t afford to not complete this job. Tonight was the night.

Adjusting the silver blade strapped against your thigh, you saw Draken waiting for your arrival.

“Before you come in, I must warn you tonight is Valentine’s day so there is going to be a lot of traffic. You will go to your usual room, but don’t be surprised by the influx of your kind.”

You understood the implications. Some people were here to get their kicks. “Whatever, let's just get out of this cold.”

“After you.”

Nodding your head, you are hit with the warmth of tightly packed bodies, a mix of vampires and humans. Lust really does bring camaraderie, you mused. You abandoned the sentiment, prepared to finish this once and for all. If you were smart, you could use the crowd to blend in when you make your departure. It was difficult to see over the sea of people.

Forcing your way through, you take the road to what could be your doom and be in the company of those strange vampires. Usually Draken would lead you to the room, this time he was too busy dealing with the crowd. There were plenty of inexperienced humans he had to make sure wouldn’t be drained like sun dried fruit.

Knocking on the familiar door, you awaited entrance. If you were in a better mood, you would have laughed at how the roles were reversed. You, a human, had to wait to be invited in.

“Come in,” Chifuyu’s voice called.

You twisted the door open to be presented with your typical company.

Baji beckoned you to take your place sat upon his thighs. Cocooning his body around your smaller form, you noticed that he seemed colder. His skin had light frost to it, but now he was glacerial.

On the side table were four wine glasses of varying heights of liquid in them. Baji grabbed the only cup almost filled to the brim.

“Here, drink,” he didn’t let you answer before tipping the glass to your lips.

Unable to refuse, you gulped down the rich drink, parched. As if you haven’t drank in a millenia, you let Baji pour the liquid until the glass was empty. Chifuyu and Kazutora watched on, sipping their own drinks.

“Good girl.”

Finished your glass, he placed it down and went about his business. Following routine, he ignored your pulsing jugular and kept banter with his fellow vampires. At this point, he must be famished. He hadn’t fed in what you guessed three weeks. Lesser vampires would have withered in a couple days without blood. Vampires could get nutrients from human food, but blood is where they thrived.

Mixed with the suspense of having to kill Baji without getting slaughtered and the suspicion that Baji refused to feed from you, you were more fidgety than normal. Picking at your fingernails, your eyes bounced to the door and then subtly to Baji. If you were quick you could puncture his carotid artery and sprint out, praying to whatever god that Chifuyu and Kazutora would be too stunned to instantly pounce on you.

A whisper breathed against your ear, “getting antsy, little hunter?”

Fuck.

You instantly struggle in his hold but he wrapped his arms around you tight, tight, tight.

He snickered at your misfortune, “don’t think you could trick me, little hunter, I saw you eyeing out the club weeks before finally presenting yourself on a platter. Thorough aren't you?"

Spiteful, you clenched the dagger hidden in the garter belt and stabbed right through the meat of his thigh. He growls at the pain, face contorting more demon-like. Vampires were good at hiding their true forms unless presented with silver.

You sprung yourself from his lap as he cradled the wound. Him refusing to feed came to bite him as the wound would take longer to heal. Cursing yourself for only having a dagger, you raised your fists in self-defense. You were so worried about the attention a gunshot would bring, you forgot how useless a dagger would be.

Inching towards the door away from the three vampires, you braced yourself. "I will kill you all.��

Kazutora giggled, "how boring." He looked at you as if you were a kitten hissing.

Your face twitches at the taunt.

Still cradling his thigh, Baji’s voice cut through the room, "how about let's make this a game. I will give you five minutes to make it out of the club. Do so and I will let you leave. If I find you, though, little hunter, you're mine. My eternal."

Your eyes widen at the proposition. You will not become a vampire's pet.

Weighing your options, you seethed, "fuck you."

He simply pouted before grinning, "tick tock, you now only have 4 and an half minutes left.”

Even if you didn't want to play he was going to force you. You looked at the three vampires before you. Baji elated, Kazutora bored and Chifuyu looked almost concerned, but you knew it was falsely placed.

You ran out the room with the haunting cackles calling after you. How naive of you to think these creatures were any different. They will always satiate their hunger before anything else. Gluttons, the lot of them.

Sprinting down the intimate, winding corridors, you were confident in your escape. You memorized the path over the week, knowing it would come to this. But before you were even in the vicinity of the stairwell, you felt woozy.

The red walls blending together, the hues likened to meat more than plaster and wallpaper. Shaking your head, you steeled your teeth. The fucker put something in your drink.

You weren't going to be shackled to him no matter what. Leaning against the walls, you try to hurry away from the private rooms and down to where the population was. Hopefully you could slip away as easily as you planned before. It be damned if you were punished by the higher ones for failing this mission, you weren't going to lose your autonomy to a vampire of all things. You rather lose the eye you sure were going to. The repentment was always a high price.

Willing yourself to push forward, you kept your weight against the wall. If you played your cards right—and stayed awake—you could possibly make it out of this alive. He did say he would give you five minutes. Despite this, with the drug pumping through your veins, time slowed. Every muscle in your body was sluggish. Clutching onto the blooded dagger, you tread on. The one thing you had was your stubbornness and you let that fuel your heavy bones.

There had to be a reason you lasted this long, especially with spending most of it alone. You were built to endure. And endure you must if you truly don’t want to become a vampire's eternal.

Brain swimming, you made it to the stairs. Almost there, you reassured yourself. Once you make it to the crowd, your scent and form would disappear into the pool of bodies. Surely, Baji would lose you like a bloodhound presented with too many stimuli. Hope was all you could cling on for now.

Trying your best to forgo the fuzziness, you race down the stairwell back into the forsaken hallway that started this all. You were almost there, all you needed to do was exit the winding corridor. You would crawl back from the mouth of hell.

A chuckle bellowed in the deserted space. Speak of the devil.

At the top of the stairwell was the very last creature you wanted to see. Stood before was the very vampire that damned you. Smugness reeked from his posture. His hair was tied back. Doom settled in your belly.

“Hard to focus, huh?” He mocked.

You sneered. Even if he caught sight of you, this morbid game of hide and seek was not done until you decided so.

Adrenaline pumping ever faster, you ripped open a door not too far from you. Slamming it closed and locking it, you ignored the screaming of a woman. On a couch very similar to the one upstairs was a woman with a vampire drinking from her wrist.

“Get the fuck out!” The vampire sneered, her body shielded the woman. How sweet.

“Don’t let him in,” was all you replied.

This room also had no window, though there was a door to the right. You swung open to see it was another room just like this one. Must be a safety precaution. Doesn’t matter, all that does is that you can use this to your advantage. You will just room hop until you reach as close as you can to the exit.

Baji slammed against the door of the room you had just left. Not tempting fate and not wanting him to know you knew all the rooms were connected, you jumped over the couch to the next door.

You opened and once again you were met with nothing. Sighing in relief, surely if another person kicked up a fuss Baji would instantly pinpoint your location. Dagger in hand, you barged into room after room. The repetition of decor flashed in front of you like a fever dream.

After what could have been the tenth door you were met with a deadend. This must be the last room in the hall. Inhaling as much as you could, you open the door to the hallway. You were met with nothing and the red lights poured into the hall. Just as you were about to leave the room, a hand grabbed your lower face and pulled you backwards. A scream caught in your throat as the door was pushed shut. Slammed into a tall, freezing body, you struggled.

How the fuck were you caught? You were careful, this wasn’t fair.

The body wrapped their arm around your waist and hauled you further into the room until you both collapsed onto the couch. Sat upon the lap of the very vampire you wanted far from you, you dug your nails into the skin of his arm. He simply squeezed you tighter.

“Guess you lost, little hunter.” His tone was condescending and amused.

No, no, you weren’t done. This wasn’t over until you decided it was. The forgotten dagger was quick to dig into the meat of the arm binding you to him. He growled in pain. The hand clutching your lower face, moved its grip to slam your head against the arm of the couch. Your brain wobbled in your skull. Blood gushed from your nose. Everything was in a daze.

Baji ripped the dagger that poked from the other side of his forearm. You were sure you nicked yourself, but it was worth it. He threw your only weapon far from the both of you.

He leaned over you and gripped you by your throat. “You brat.”

You laughed in his face. You had definitely sealed your fate as rage built in those molten eyes, but the satisfaction was worth the penalization.

“You content with yourself?” He mocked, and as you laughed harder, something in him shifted.

In those golden irises, mischief crept in. Baji never liked prey that rolled over and let him devour. The best part of a meal is the anticipation.

Still clutching your fragile throat, he leaned down and licked the blood that pooled from your nose down to your lips. A moan left him as his nails grew sharper and the teeth in his mouth stretched. Feeding was always a vulnerable time for vampires as their true forms manifested. Still beautiful, but oh so haunting. Black veins spidered from his under eyes as his mouth became a darker hue.

“You are absolutely divine.” The words were meant to flatter, but you recoiled. Baji saw the fear start to build. “Now don’t be like that. I won’t hurt you, unless you want me to.”

“Get off me!”

He pressed his body further into yours, his cold meshing with your warmth. The chase had left you heated and your body almost craved the ice he gave.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun, little hunter. Your kind are always the adrenaline junkies. Can’t say I can judge, though.”

You sniped at him, “yes, running for my life was very thrilling.”

“That's the spirit!” He laughed. This damned vampire was insane.

You squirmed, wanting him off you. Your arms still freed, you slapped and hit what you could, but it was useless. Baji easily gathered your wrists into one hand and pinned them to the arm of the couch. His weight pressed further into you. His legs, he pried yours apart so he could slot your crotch to his. There was no way you could escape his hold now.

Exhausted, you don’t know if you even want to. The drugs still haven’t left your system.

Baji nosed the side of your neck as he did the past week. “See, it doesn’t have to be hard. Just give in to me and you will never have to worry again.”

The words were tempting, but how can you believe the words of a forked tongue beast?

Still seeing you hesitating, Baji pushed more, “it can’t be a great life as a hunter. You spend your days in solitude, in fear of your Higher Ones. With me, you will no longer be afraid.”

You furrowed your brows, his words were too accurate. “How do you know that?”

“I have watched you for so long, my dear hunter. You can say I’m a picky eater.”

Of course, he had been stalking you, why would you think anything else? “Get off. Get off!”

Baji’s thumb stroked right where your carotid artery is, entranced of the blood flowing under the flesh. He stopped listening to your defiant quips. The vampire forgot how long it had been since he fed and he has his meal right under his thumb. He wanted you to be more willing about this, but if he must be mean, he will.

Moving his thumb so it dug into your jawbone, he tilted your head to the right. Baji licked your neck before diving in. A screech bubbled in your lungs when he bit down. His teeth were needles and the more he sank in, the more agony spread throughout your body. Your feet kicked in instinct. God, it fucking hurt but as he gulped down your rosy life essence, your body became pliant.

His saliva finally hit your system, endorphins clouded your mind. These happy chemicals dimmed the pain and how he was draining you of all your worth. Your screams ebbed into tiny whimpers.

Seeing you had calmed down, Baji pulled away from your neck and licked the blood that fell from the open wound. Falling into blood lust, Baji grew hard from your noises and the taste of you. A warmth grew in his tummy. He needed you and he needed you, now.

He dragged himself from your body until his knees hit the ground. You were too blissed out from the blood lost to refuse him. Taking advantage of that, Baji pulled your pants and panties off you. Despite his hunger, he was gentle with how he undressed you. The vampire wanted to savor you.

He took your shoes off as well so you were completely bare for him. Groaning, he spied how slick collected on your slit from the endorphins and fear. Taking your right leg and placing it on his shoulder, he kissed your calf. He slathered you with open mouth kisses until he reached your inner thigh.

You whined at how he teased you. The build up was making you clench around nothing. Your clit throbbed, begging to be stimulated in any way.

Baji laughed at your impatience. He kept up kissing your inner thigh, switching to the other side to give it the same amount of attention. Dragging his teeth gently over the skin, you whimpered when his breath hit your cunt. You bucked. He took his other hand and splayed it on your tummy to hold you down.

“Patience.”

You kicked him and he scowled at you. The endorphins were wearing off faster than he wanted. Baji went back to your right thigh, so close yet so far from your cunny, he placed another kiss. Before he bit down once again. Your eyes shot up from the half-mast and you gasped in pain. Baji was quick to remedy the pain and licked you. A moan left you when he drank from you again.

It was borderline addicting how your life was drained from you. The familiar sluggishness crept back up. No wonder people were feeds. To stay in this cloudy sensation was heavenly.

Baji parted from your thigh and finally licked your pussy. Blood was smeared over you as he sucked your clit into his mouth. You yelped at the attention. He laughed into you. The vibration of his mouth sent more pleasure down your spine. He pulled off your clit to drag his tongue from the bud down to your hole. The appendage dipped in, testing the waters. Bucking up again, or at least attempting to, Baji took that as to keep going.

And keep going did he. Nose deep, he kept tonguefucking you. It was an odd sensation but not unwelcome. His tongue was more dexterous than fingers. He twisted against your walls. Pulling his tongue out, you whined but he was quick to shut you up by taking your clit back in his mouth. The constant attention was becoming too much.

Finding purchase, your hands gripped the one holding your hips down. He welcomed the contact as he kept pushing you closer and closer to the edge. It was unfair how good he was at this.

“Please, please!” You begged. At this point for more or for him to stop, you didn’t know. It was just too much.

His tongue flicked against the swollen bud as his hand dipped down to split you open with two fingers. The intrusion was almost enough, you just need more. Moans poured out. The stuttering of your chest and the shake of your thighs was enough of a tell to Baji. Ending your misery, he sucked your clit in his mouth as he curled his fingers just right.

Ringing in your ears was all you could hear as you fell apart for the creature you swore you would end tonight. Tears bubbled up at how overwhelmed you were. Baji gave a few more licks and pumps to slowly bring you down from your orgasm. Like he cut all the strings from you, you flop further into the couch.

Oversensitive, you whined when he took his fingers from you and pulled away from your thighs. Blood coated his lower face along with your slick. Your face almost steamed from the humiliation. Still kneeling, he kept eye contact as he brought his fingers to his lips, coated just the same as his face. He dragged his tongue from his palm up to the underside of his appendages.

A wicked gleam flicked in his now ruby eyes, “here, you have a taste.”

He crawled back up to crowd and pin you against the couch. Without poise, he shoved his fingers into your mouth. You gagged at the intrusion and the taste of your own blood and cum. Though still high on the happy hormones, you sucked on his fingers. Maybe if you clean him, he will release you of the taste. “Fuck,” he breathed, slack jawed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

You kept his gaze, eyes bleary. That was enough for Baji. He pulled out from your mouth and sat back up. Impatient, he flicked up the button of his black jeans along with the zipper. The vampire couldn’t take it anymore. He had to be in you. From what he gathered tonguefucking you, you were warm and tight.

He tugged down his pants and boxers with the crass he lacked when he undressed you. His cock was heavy as it flopped out from the constricting material. Baji sighed in relief. His cock was pretty. It was about average length but it was thick. His pubes were untamed and you squirmed at how it would feel against your already overstimulated clit. Precum drooled from the head.

Thank fuck he opened you up or else you don’t think you could handle it with no prep. Baji gathered your arms again. Now filled with your blood, Baji was warm, hot. With his free hand, he lined himself up to your twitching hole.

With no warning, he breached your slit. You groan at how the head bullied its way inside you. Baji followed the noise as he forced his hips further. The drag of his cock against your almost reluctant walls was having you see stars.

He went back to wrapping a hand around your throat, fingers almost meeting at the back of your neck. Baji was so much bigger and stronger than you. He was just a tall man in general, but as he hovered over you with his hips smooshed against yours, you melt at how he engulfs you.

Buried to the hilt, the vampire brings his mouth back to your throat, the wound still throbbed.

“So good,” he slurred.

At that he started his rhythm. He pulled his hips back until only his cockhead was in you. You whined at being almost empty again. He shushed you. Right when he slammed in, he bit down on your throat, a lower place than before. You screamed.

“T-too much!” you cried.

“You can take it.”

Baji ignored your pleas as he fucked into you like a piston. He was using you like a cocksleeve. His pace was thorough and hard. His cock was filling you up in ways you never had before. It was like he was trying to mold your cunny to the shape of his cock.

Baji kept gulping down your blood until you were fuzzy again but this time it was from the blood loss. If he kept drinking from you, you might actually pass out.

You clenched down at the thought. Would he still keep fucking into you even if you were unconscious? A sick part of you wanted him to. So drunk off him, you wanted to be used by him in any way he needed. Why were you so set on killing him only hours ago?

Fuck, maybe you were dying. What a whorish way to go out.

Baji squeezed on your wrists as he lost his rhythm.

“I’m close, fuck, you are divine. Your blood and your pussy. You were built just for me, my eternal.”

A sense of foreboding tried to dig into your consciousness but you were so focused on how you were right that his pubes digging into your clit was too much. Almost to your end as well, you canted your hips in tandem to his.

“More, more,” you pleaded. More of what? You had no clue.

Baji did know what you needed as he pressed his hand further into your throat, squeezing the sides to cut off blood flow to your brain. That was enough for you to clench down so hard that Baji growled. As your cunt fluttered around him, the vampire bit further into the juncture of your shoulder until teeth almost met teeth. You screeched at the pain and Baji’s hips stuttered as he came deep in you. Him filling you has that same ringing blind you.

You came right after him as he kept thrusting his hips into yours, not ready to leave your warmth. The strain of cumming left you limp in Baji’s grasp. Pulling his teeth from your throat, he saw the mess he left of your neck. It was as if you were mauled by a wolf rather than the vampire before you.

You were losing blood fast and no matter how much Baji licked your wounds, it wouldn’t take back all the blood he took from you. Releasing the hand from your neck, he ripped open his own wrist so the life he stole from you and cycled through his undead heart poured from him.

He brought the bleeding arm to your mouth, “drink,” he commanded just as he did earlier tonight.

With no way to resist, you drank. You drank until your belly was filled with his blood that was once yours. Letting go of your bound hands, you cradled the wrist as you swallow all you can, desperate. This was likened to drinking liquid candy.

“Enough.”

Baji pulled his arm away as you whined, missing the taste. Your chin was drenched with blood just as him. Slowly your wounds started to close and your missing blood was replenished. Despite this, you still were in an endless fog.

The vampire leaned back on the other end of the couch and gathered you in his arms. He rested your weary head on his plush pectoral. Whatever drive you had was gone. You wanted to stay in his arms forever. Eternally.

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secondjulia · 10 months

Text

Hob Gadling's Third Execution

WARNING: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF THREATS OF EXTREME VIOLENCE & ASSAULT

Rated: T for violence & fucked up shit Warning: Graphic depictions of threats of extreme violence Notes: Technically a sequel to Hob Gadling's First Execution & Hob Gadling's Second Execution, but can be read alone. Gifs from & story vaguely inspired by Midsomer Murders S.22.E1, but not a crossover!

Hob’s mind was still fuzzy as it struggled up from unconsciousness, but he realized in a single, horrible flash what was happening.

Eyes still squeezed shut — as if that could ward off the flood of white hot fear — he took in the position of his body and the tactile details of his immediate environment. His hands were bound securely in a place and manner he’d hoped they’d never, ever be bound: pulled tight behind him and pinning him upright to a wooden stake.

His feet, scrambling to hold him up, were standing in what felt very much like a pile of kindling.

Hob’s mind went to pieces. He heard himself swear in something that hadn’t been English in a long time.

He forced his eyes open. His body was already struggling. The stake pressed hard against his spine as he writhed, and rough rope scored his wrists. He tugged desperately, even as he took in the utter helplessness of his position.

And then, a thought struck Hob like a thunderbolt. A thought so painful that, if he were not securely bound to the stake, he would have doubled over, wracked by something worse than the fear of what was about to happen.

A thought that was a torment all by itself: He’d had such a wonderful dream!

A beautiful lord in a tavern bestowing endless life! Hob had lived for ages. He’d made and lost more gold than he could count. He’d seen the most wondrous things — flying machines and towers of glass and revolutions!

But the most wondrous of all had been his beautiful savior meeting him every century. Coming back again and again and again to look on Hob with that endless, otherworldly gaze and hear the tales he’d collected.

It had felt so real! What a cruel escape from his last awful moments.

Hob groaned, the deep, forsaken sound of something breaking deep inside. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks. He hung his head, and for a long moment, Hob just sobbed.

“Repenting now, demonkin?” a taunting voice said. “Bit late for that.”

Hob blinked against the veil of tears. They made it hard enough to see anything, and any detail that made it through the tears seemed to get blotted out by the loss that had just riven his mind.

The pain hit the Dreaming like lightning.

~~~

Dream stood still except for one hand that clutched at his heart.

"My lord?"

Lucienne's voice was filled with concern. But Dream's attention was riven from the spot, drowned by sensations at the far edge of the Dreaming. Something was happening in the swirling eddies between consciousness and unconsciousness, where the threads of dreams and waking nightmares tangled.

"Is something the matter?"

His librarian's voice sounded like it came from a great distance. Dream's mind was pinned to the soft boundaries of the Dreaming where a solitary dreamer writhed.

The rest of the world, his own vast being, seemed to vanish under the pain as if it were his own heart being assaulted. He listened to the torment of the man who had lived for so long in defiance of Dream’s distain of the mortal world. The man who had prayed without so much as a name to call to his distant lord. The man who had waited through every century for Dream’s return and whom Dream had refused to even call friend.

"Hob Gadling is in agony." The words scraped painfully over Dream's throat.

Even at a distance, Dream could tell that this was no regular nighttime illusion. Hob was confused and afraid. His long life flickered in the mingled daydream and waking nightmare of those near Death.

"Ah, yes, I see," Lucienne said, and Dream blinked at her, realizing she'd retrieved a couple of books while he was distracted. "It says here he's been taken by a serial killer."

"What?"

Lucienne leaned over the two open books on her desk, gaze darting between them. "There's an… eccentric. A woman who's taken to rooting out abnormal beings, since the religious authorities of this era seem less inclined toward that sort of thing."

"I must... I must…" What? The old laws limited Dream's capacity to interfere in human affairs when they were not a direct threat. Though, he had interfered last time — pulling Hob out of the mud when the witch hunters were done with him — and nothing bad had happened then. But the old laws were shifting and porous, and it was hard to predict when they might suddenly fall on one infraction and not another.

"We are talking about Hob Gadling, sir?" Lucienne prompted. "Surely he will be fine?"

"But he is suffering!"

"Ah," Lucienne said again. Her gaze darted toward the library windows. Black clouds were gathering outside. "It is surely not beyond your purview to comfort him when his ordeal is done. You could… make him a hot beverage?"

Dream stared at her. "His incursion on the edges of my territory falls under my responsibility." He bent over the books on Lucienne's desk, paging desperately through the written records even as his mind chased after the tangled threads in the Dreaming that fed into this mess. "I must see to him."

~~~

“Abandoned by your master?” The horrible woman’s voice came from somewhere past Hob's left shoulder.

It was odd. Witch hunters were generally men, weren’t they? Women sometimes helped with the searches and testing of accused women, but why would they be his executioner?

He blinked, his mind fixating on this tiny, stupid detail. Hob’s vision began to clear. Head still hanging against his chest, he looked down at his own form. His teal shirt resolved first. Then his pair of well worn jeans. He lifted his head and looked this way and that, trying to catch a glimpse of his strange executioner. But all he caught was the whisper of a cloak over dead leaves.

No crowd had turned out to see him punished for… whatever he'd done this time. What had he done? Hob looked around the empty forest. Where was everyone? He was about to be burned, for fucks sake! Hob had never been particularly into that sort of thing — he got his fill of bloodshed as a soldier and bandit — but even the death of a common criminal was usually an event.

He looked down at his jeans and teal polo again. Finally, the fog in his mind rolled back.

Relief slammed into Hob, and his head thunked back against the stake as he rolled his eyes upward, gazing between the leaves to the beautiful blue heavens. “Oh thank fuck. Fucking beautiful fuck."

The horrifying notion that it had all been a dream faded. Just a momentary disorientation of terror or perhaps a bit of a concussion.

"Oh my beautiful lord. You are real,” Hob murmured. The tears dried on his face in the chill autumn breeze and he bared his teeth in a wild grin as the agony in his heart faded.

Slowly, Hob realized that he was still tied to a stake. He was still going to burn. It was the twenty first fucking century and he was going to be burned at the fucking stake.

The executioner's — murderer's — footsteps were soft behind him.

The nightmare that it'd all been a dream had momentarily pushed out the details of his acute, physical emergency. But now the soldier in Hob stirred, his mind clearing, his muscles tensing and testing his bonds.

Still. There didn’t seem to be anything he could do at this particular moment.

Hob considered the strangeness of the fact that, for someone who wouldn’t die, he was still so afraid of dying.

Dying hurt. And worse than the pain was that desperate feeling, the fear and the flailing at the end. At least that’s how it was for regular folk — and Hob was, even all these centuries on, really just a regular man. He knew of the martyrs, of course; he knew that there were those who went to their deaths with dignity and even welcome. (Though, at this point, Hob suspected that some of those stories were a bit glamorized. He’d seen too many people’s bodies destroyed, their spirits broken even at the very end, to quite believe the Church’s tales.) But that wasn’t Hob. He’d always felt the fear. The pain. The desperation. Perhaps it was because his lord was here. His desire was for this life, this world. He could never embrace what came after.

And so, even if it wasn’t permanent, Hob didn’t want to die. And he especially never wanted to burn.

It had been a long time since he'd thought that witch hunters — or demon hunters, whatever — posed the real danger of burning, rather than just a faulty toaster or maybe a carelessly tossed cigarette. He didn't even smoke anymore. Hob had gotten one of the very first smoke detectors available to the public, and he updated his system religiously. He checked each detector regularly, and when they started beeping at him to change the batteries, he obeyed. This, too, might have been odd for someone who couldn’t die. But Hob had seen the devastation caused by the negligence — and, for many centuries, the utter nonexistence — of safety precautions.

He had not seen this coming.

“I’m glad you’re awake, demon.” The woman’s voice moved behind Hob. Twined with her footsteps, he heard splashing. The smell of petrol rose around him.

“I am not.”

The woman laughed. “You look awake enough to meet your maker.”

“I am no demon.” The words echoed his benefactor’s words ages ago when Hob had come to his defense. If only his lord were here now to return the favor! Of course, his stranger — Hob still had to stop himself from mentally saying friend, a foolish habit he'd taken up before their last disastrous meeting — seemed to have no desire to return. After 1989, Hob had been forced to acknowledge that, though his life might continue, the meetings would not.

It was better than it all having been a dream. But it still hurt.

Right beside his ear, he heard a rough click. It was the unmistakeable sound of a lighter being flicked.

“Our Father, who art in heaven,” Hob began, my dear, pretty lord, wherever you are, he continued in his heart, praying though he had given offense and knew his lord was unlikely to listen to him ever again,“hallowed be thy name,” though I am unworthy to have it. “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done—” Anything. Anything, lord. “—on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses—” I am sorry for the offense I have caused. Forgive me, forgive me, forgive me, and come back! “—as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation—“ There is no temptation but you. “—but deliver us from evil.” Do not abandon me, my beautiful lord! “Amen.”

The woman circled around to look at him full on. She looked far too young for this nonsense. Though, Hob supposed, so was anybody much younger than himself. She had stringy blond hair and wore a robe that looked like it came from one of those awful Renaissance Faire stalls. A large silver crucifix dangled from her neck. She was snapping a silver lighter open and shut, open and shut, like a nervous tick.

She also wore a confused, petulant expression. “Who do you imagine you’re praying to?”

“Were I demon kin I would not be able to speak the Lord’s Prayer without stumbling!” It was one of those arbitrary rules the witch hunters had made up ages ago, and Hob hoped that a person who believed in demons might follow the same logic.

But the hunter scoffed. “Shut up, Satan fucker! I don’t need your old superstitions, thanks.”

“Then what proof do you have?” Hob asked, because it was all he could possibly do, pinned as he was with no weapon and no backup. If he could just keep her talking…

Then what?

They were in the middle of nowhere. Hob had picked up a summer job at a distant camp ground because research was yielding fuck all in terms of actual payment he could exchange for goods and services. It was a restful place — a lot of the benefits of fresh air and greenery coupled with modern amenities. Hob had even thought it could be a nice place to hide out for a few years in between lives. There were cabin and private plots scattered nearby. And though the campground wasn’t open year-round, maybe Hob could talk himself into a job keeping them up in the wintertime, making sure the pipes didn’t freeze and all that. He’d thought he might like that after the bustle (and swiftly rising rents) of London.

But Christ’s bloody fucking wounds, was it a perfect place for a murder! It was late in the season, the campgrounds were only hosting a few sleepy pensioners, and even most of the private cabins were unoccupied.

No one would come for him.

Hob was going to burn.

The blue sky above had begun to cloud over. Pinpricks of rain began to patter the leaves above. A few cold drops splashed in his hair.

"Fucking hell," Hob groaned. "Not today!"

Rain just meant it’d be slow. He’d seen a few burnings in the damp English weather back in the day. At some points, there were just too many people to execute, and no one could wait around for the perfect weather. Which was how Hob knew that a light drizzle like this only made the process even more excruciatingly slow.

His wrists twisted instinctively against the rope. He forced himself to stop as he realized he’d only succeeded in tightening the knots.

“What proof do you have?” Hob demanded again. “I have no marks upon me. I can speak the sacred words—”

“It’s the twenty first century, old man!" The hunter rolled her eyes. "I have pictures!”

The hand that wasn’t holding the lighter dug deep into the pocket of her anachronistic robes. She pulled out a handful of old photos and threw them at Hob's feet.

"Oh," Hob breathed as the pain of loss swept back into his heart like a storm. "Peggy…"

Now, it was a different sort of loss that reached out from the largest photo — Hob and Peggy smiling up from somewhere in 1940. Just before everything went to hell. Before he'd held Peggy as she took her last breaths, battered in the rubble of the Blitz.

This wasn't like the loss of waking up from a beautiful dream. Peggy had been real, her life had been a part of his, and no matter how much rubble the Germans piled onto their city, it hadn't torn her out of his past. Only snuffed her from his present and then erased her from his future.

It still hurt. Tears prickled at Hob's eyes again.

And there were others.

Audrey grinned up from a faded polaroid. Hob's own face was partially cut off — selfies had been so much harder before front-facing cameras. Anne peaked out from a pale sepia square as Hob glared suspiciously from behind her. She'd been so excited to have a photo taken, and he'd tried to squash his unease. There was a sketch of him with Lisabet, far more recognizable than the caricature Lady Johanna had had of him and his stranger. Underneath all the others, the wet leaves had begun to soak a crumpled printout of a photo of a painting of Hob with Eleanor and Robyn.

"Please…" Hob heard himself begging as he stared at the scraps of his life and loves scattered on his pyre. But he realized he'd been silent too long, and now his words sounded defensive. "Please — it's just just a family resemblance!"

The hunter gave a shout of laughter. "Your entire family looks so alike," she said sarcastically. "Bit of a shallow gene pool?"

"Please…"

He was not begging for his own life.

There were no pictures of Hob alone. Those were always the easiest for him to destroy. In contrast, erasing evidence of him with his partners had always felt like scorching a part of his own body. But Hob had done it again and again and again, a habit he’d cultivated especially carefully — or so he'd thought — ever since photography popped up and made things difficult for immortals. He didn't want to end up locked in a lab while a bunch of Nobel Prize wannabees examined slices of his pancreas trying to figure out how he got to be six hundred sixty eight years old.

It wasn’t just the photos he'd destroyed either. Possessions could be a burden, a liability. Hob kept little from one life to the next. And so, he had nothing of those he had loved and lost except the scars on his still-beating heart.

Panic clawed at him as he looked at the faces scattered over the petrol-soaked kindling.

You don't really die until everyone that you knew is dead, too, someone once told him. Hob had held that thought close over the years, thinking of all those he was keeping alive. It had been comforting to think that even after the scraps of them had disintegrated in the world, he held the last of their memories safe within him.

But now, faced with the actual scraps of his loves, it didn't feel like enough. Hob wasn't going to die. He felt that in his bones. More than anything, he still wanted to live, though fear thrashed at his insides and he twisted against the ropes. He would come back, but the evidence of Audrey and Peggy and Anne and Lisabet would not. Eleanor and Robyn might survive in a gallery somewhere, or maybe shut away in dusty storage as time eroded their canvas and few paid attention to a random sixteenth century portrait, subjects unknown. He shuffled his feet, trying to kick the pictures away from the pyre, but ropes bound his legs and restricted his movement too much. It was no use. He would burn seeing the last scraps of his loves go up in smoke.

"Don't do this."

"I have to." Her voice was serious now. “The courts don’t care any more. They laugh at the idea of demonic agents among us. Of the things people will do to gain favors, maybe steal extra life.” She glared at him fiercely. “But not all of us have been lulled into complacence.”

"Please. I have harmed no o—"

Well that wasn't true. Hob was a bastard and a killer and a greedy opportunist. He had carved atrocities into the world and shed unfathomable blood across six centuries. Of all the people who deserved to be burnt alive — and slowly in the rain, too, — he was at the top of the list.

He thunked his head back against the stake again, tears leaking down his cheeks. He had no defense.

"It's the twenty first fucking century," he argued instead, but the words came out choked. Sobs heaved in his throat again. "We're better than this. We're better than we once were."

For fuck’s sake, it was a whole new millennium! Back when Hob had bragged about never dying, he'd never even heard that word! Never thought of a year ending in 2! Empires had lived and died since he'd last been accused of consorting with the devil. He’d seen witchcraft accusations pop up now again, but they seemed insignificant in the face of a changing planet. Hob honestly hadn't even paid attention back in the seventeenth century — not until the witch hunters were pounding on his own door.

But of course he should have known. People were people. Still as capable of foolishness and brutality as ever. The world would grow old again soon enough and be reborn and hopefully change for the better — though there was no guarantee of that — and eventually people would look back on this time as ignorant and bloody.

And they would probably still be brutal.

And all the shreds of his old loves would still be gone.

The hunter was shaking her head. "The devil should get no grasp on any century."

He tried to speak again, to reason with her. But sobs choked him and the zealot's conviction in her voice slammed into him like a wall which reason could not penetrate.

Oh my beautiful lord, Hob prayed silently instead as tears streamed down his cheeks. He tried to hold all their faces in his mind as the one face he'd seen again and again and again grew sharper. He had been with most of his loves when they passed on, but none had ever held him at the end. Only one face had accompanied him every single time in his mind's eye.

There had only ever been one love he’d been able to keep. One who’d been constant — or, mostly so — century after century. Even if it was only once in a hundred years, Hob would have taken the sparse moments if they would just continue forever. And if they didn't, he would spend the centuries praying his apologies and waiting for his stranger's return.

Now, he closed his eyes and braced himself and held all the faces together and prayed harder than he ever had to his beautiful lord.

I will tell you of them. Hold their stories, my beautiful lord, as you have held mine and I yours. Please, I—

The lighter clicked and Hob's mind went blank. His own words fled.

Into the blankness at the end, his stranger's voice rumbled, "Stop."

~~~

"Melody." Dream struggled to keep his human form from disintegrating into Nightmare. He could feel shadows creeping out of him and reaching toward the killer. Only the little flame, inches away from Hob and the fuel-soaked wood, forced him to remember restraint.

The woman looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She trembled as if catching sight of the horrifying phantasm he was trying not to be. But still, her face was fierce. She fumbled in the pockets of her robes and pulled out a gun. "Stay back!"

"Peace, Melody." Dream clenched his fist around his pouch of sand, but he feared to make the woman fall — if she dropped the flame, Hob would burn. "I have seen your devotion to this path."

"Yeah, that's right!" Her hands shook, but she kept the gun pointed at Dream; the lighter's flame still waved beside Hob's bound form. "I have to do it! Nobody cares anymore! I have to hunt them! I have to fight them. I have to protect the world from them."

Dream stuffed the horrors of Nightmare further down inside him. It was hard — the heart in his human form beat like a trapped butterfly's wings against the cage of his body. Hob's eyes had opened, and were now flicking from Dream to the flame. The fear in his gaze twisted at Dream's human form in ways he barely understood and made him want to tear at the woman before sending every piece of her into a different endless torment, a kaleidoscope of punishment that would last till the end of the world.

Maybe later. For now, he needed to lull her into a place of trust.

Nightmares, after all, were what had lead them here. The long nightmares of a girl driven into zealotry by the torments of abandonment. Continually cast aside, footing lost on unstable ground, overlooked and battered by the tempests of the waking world. She'd grown into a hollowed out woman, primed for devotion to rush in — devotion to anything that promised clear, unshakable footing in the world.

Dream could not protect his dreamers from all the horrors of the waking world; he himself had only come into being when the first living thing dreamed, and his realm was, in the end, subject to the storms of the horrors that living things generated. But it was his responsibility to tend his dreamers and the Dreaming to the best of his ability. And perhaps, in this, he had failed. The woman's actions did, after all, fall under his responsibilities.

"You dream of a world that is safe," he said. "A world that is no longer severed from its old laws, that thrives in order and devotion."

"Yeah," she said defiantly. "I do."

Hob's feet were shuffling in the kindling at his feet. He seemed to be trying to kick pieces of paper free of his pyre. Behind his back, his wrists writhed against his bonds. Dream could see his chest rising and falling in quick, fearful breaths, and guilt twisted in Dream's heart.

Hob should never have had to bear the consequences of Dream's failures. Of course, all humans' lives were subject to the consequences of nightmares. They tangled with the threads his siblings' realms, knotting together with Desire and Despair, Delirium and Destruction, with the Destiny of all things and ultimately, Death in a way that Dream could not entirely control. But for Hob it was Dream's own foolish words to Death that had yielded this long life — and thus the torments and deaths that repeated again and again and again across centuries.

Hob might never want to die. But Dream's wager had ensured that, instead, he would endure many deaths, repeated assaults beyond what any other human life demanded.

"I, too, am subject to old laws," Dream said. "And I, too, am devoted to ordering my realm and caring as best I can for those who dream of better and worse worlds."

He took a step back, and the hunter cocked the useless gun. "Stay back!" she yelled. Despite his efforts, some gleam of Dream's eyes seemed to catch the hunter's gaze. "W-who are you?"

"You know me well," Dream said. "Though I have not always fulfilled my responsibilities to you. I am sorry."

"I don't want apologies! I want to make things right!" She was panting, her face still screwed up with hate and pain.

The little flame flicked on and off, on and off, a nervous twitch of the hand, Dream thought, rather than any hesitation in her horrifying task. He stepped forward.

She swung the gun around to point it at Hob. "Stay where you are! I'll kill him quick before you can take another step."

"That would be a mistake," Dream said.

~~~

Hob's mind had snapped in the whiplash between horror and relief. This, finally, must be the dream. Or maybe he was hallucinating in the stew of end-of-life chemicals his brain had cooked up. If he had to burn in the rain, at least he would do it watching his beautiful stranger stepping out of the shade.

The sight was more vivid than that which had ever accompanied him to the end before. Mind still breaking from the tangled assaults of emotion, he could catch few words. But the stranger's familiar voice rumbled through the woods as he chatted with the hunter. (Perhaps, still furious, he was eager to watch Hob's punishment — or maybe he'd come to retrieve his gift.) His eyes even caught the diffuse light in that strange way that Hob had sometimes imagined — glinting like stars in the endless void of the universe.

Otherwise, he looked like he'd just strolled in from the campsite, dark jeans and trench coat, hair perfectly mussed in twenty first century fashion. A skinny modern man, admittedly with a moody expression and a bit of a gothic palate.

Not a memory then. Perhaps Hob's hallucination had just updated his image of the stranger.

The woman was not aiming a gun at Hob. Well, at least that might hurt less than burning. Maybe. He tried to kick the photos off the pyre again. He knew he wasn't doing a good job of it; he couldn't bring himself to look away from his stranger.

The rain was falling harder now. Wind began to kick up the leaves. Above, clouds ate up the last of the blue sky. Grey shade closed tight over his execution, and—hang on… were those shadows creeping?

Out of the corner of his eye, Hob watched the darkness under the leaves shift.

The hunter seemed to have noticed, too. "What was that? You bring friends?" She jerked around, the gun sweeping the darkness under the trees.

Then his beautiful lord was there.

His long pale fingers closed around the hand that held the lighter. The woman twisted and jerked, the gun firing wildly into the empty forest, but the beautiful stranger held her as if she were no more than a paper bird fluttering against a marble cage. Then glittering sand was falling in the air and the hunter fell senseless against the strangers arms.

"Sleep," the stranger whispered in her ear as he laid her down on the fallen leaves. "And know the true nightmares that you have wrought. We must both know the pain we have brought into the world."

Then he stood without another look at her.

"Oh," was all Hob could manage as he struggled to grasp reality and his stranger stepped lightly over the kindling, then his hands were on Hob's bonds tearing through them like spider silk. "My dear lord," he finally managed. "You came."

"It seems I owe you an apology," the stranger rumbled in Hob's ear as he tore the cruel ropes from his wrists. He was closer than he'd ever been except in dreams. "I've always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting."

"Oh." Hob tried to smile as tears crowded out his vision. A moment later, his legs gave out.

~~~

Taking Hob's weight on one shoulder and ignoring his murmured apologies, Dream stooped to gather the scattered images. They had seemed to bear some importance to Hob. Then, stepping over the sleeping body of the hunter, Dream carried Hob to a soft spot of ferns sheltered from the rain. He cradled him in his arms, his heart rending at the uncontrollable shaking that had taken over his human friend.

"Uh, Boss?" Matthew stood on the limp shoulder of the hunter. "Should we… call the cops?"

Dream wanted to let the cruel body sleep on the shores of Nightmare until it broke down and the zealot's soul inside was taken by his sister and shepherded to the Morningstar.

But instead, he sighed. "You may travel through the Gates of Horn tonight and inform the appropriate authorities where they might look to find the killer who fits their inquiry."

Though it was not, perhaps, his fault that he had been unable to tend his dreamers for over a century, it was his responsibility to tend to them now — even those whose subconscious had mutated into something horrifying. He would let the waking world handle this villain in the way it saw fit, while he relegated his justice to his own realm. Dream had hurriedly scanned the relevant pages Lucienne had brought him and followed the threads of their musings in the dreaming. He knew that there would be sufficient evidence to keep the woman locked away.

"The… Gates of Horn?" Matthew asked, hopping nervously from one foot to the other. "Does that hurt?"

'No. Lucienne will direct you if you require it."

"Sure thing, boss." In a rush of wings, he was gone.

Dream's arms tightened around Hob. Tears were falling onto his robes.

~~~

Hob's poor mind was clearing slowly. As it did, one realization struck him like a thunderbolt: that he was being held by his beautiful lord. His own arms had, apparently, gone around his stranger's middle, and he was clinging like a child, shaking in the aftermath of horror.

Hob was seized by the urge to push himself back, scramble away, and beg forgiveness for his presumption. But the stranger held him tight. And Hob slowly relaxed, still shaking but no longer torn asunder by fear and confusion.

"I thought it was all just a dream," Hob murmured. He noticed the pictures all gathered neatly in his stranger's — no, his friend's hand. Hob could think it now! He'd said they were friends. Though, as he shifted in the strong arms, and one gentle hand stroked down his back, he was quite certain friends was not quite the term he longed for. Still, his friend was here, holding him, and hadn't run off yet, so as far as Hob was concerned, things were looking up. "I couldn't bear it. That none of it was real. I'd've rather died at the hands of the witch hunters hundreds of years ago than—" He drew in a sharp breath and shook his head. "No… no I wouldn't." He cringed at his own words and snuck a peak up at his lord, hoping he wasn't breaking their bargain with his babbling. "I wouldn't rather have died. Not ever. But… it hurt so much imagining it was just a dream."

"Just a dream is what drew me to you. But worry not." The stranger brushed Hob's damp hair out of his face. "That nightmare won’t trouble you again."

"The nightmare of you being just a dream?"

His friend smiled. "I have always been just Dream, but perhaps if I showed you more of my realm and my function, you would not denigrate it with the word just."

Hob blinked at his beautiful, mysterious friend, whom he had imagined variously as a devil, demon, angel, and elf lord. "Just… a—" No, that wasn't it. "Just… Dream?" It was sweet like a name on his lips, a name he'd longed for most of his extended life. "You mean to say… you are…"

"Dream. Of the Endless."

Hob did not understand what that meant. He was about to ask when his friend — Dream! — spoke again.

"Would you like a beverage?"

Hob looked up at the eyes which definitely had a distant starry glint deep in the void of the pupils. "What?"

"I am given to understand that this is what humans do when one of them is upset. I can bring something from the Dreaming. Coffee from the inaccessible cliffs of a forgotten moon, dreamt of only by the ancient fungus which remembers when it was brewed to perfection and poured out for gods that are now gone. Or the wine trapped in a glacier in the hull of a frozen ship, remembered only in the daydreams of the descendants of one indulgent arctic tern."

Hob stared, his mind struggling to catch the impossible words.

"Or we can go to the establishment of your choosing," Dream said.

"I dunno." Hob sniffed and wiped the last of his tears away. "There's not much around here. I suppose I could go for some fungus coffee."

He looked down, searching for something concrete, more comprehensible to his ragged mind. He thumbed at the photos in Dream's hand. "I thought they'd all burn with me, disappearing forever like… like I thought you had."

"You must tell me about them," Dream said. "So that I may remember and bear them back to my realm and keep them safe in the collective unconscious."

"Yeah, I think I'd like that," Hob said.

"They will have a place of pride forever in the galleries of the Dreaming. In the faces dreamers see and think they imagine, in the shape of dreams and the stories we weave. And you may visit them whenever you walk in my realm."

Hob nodded, still struggling to comprehend.

"And neither will I disappear, Hob," Dream said. "We are bound together more tightly than I am to any other dreamer. You will never be abandoned so long as it is in my power to come to you."

Dream's arms tightened around Hob, and Hob hugged him tightly back, no longer afraid that he overstepped.

#Ferdie Friday #ferdinand kingsley #dream of the endless #dreamling #the sandman #fanfic #my fanfic

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serene-faerie · 11 months

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RGG/Middle Earth (ficlet)

@sadkois @majimemegoro @iheart-nishiki

I wrote a mini LOTR/Silmarillion crossover one-shot, with Nishiki as an elf prince. For context, I was kind of inspired by the Silmarillion for Elf Prince!Nishiki, and my overall vision for this kind of AU is that Nishiki starts out with his cold, bitter personality from Kiwami, but after a lot of trauma, he decides to destroy his memories and puts himself to sleep. Then he wakes up after centuries, when he meets Kiryu, and he basically starts over and has a redemption arc that makes him much kinder.

But here's a little ficlet that shows Kiwami!Nishiki as an elf prince. Let me know what you think of it!

It had been a long, vicious battle– one that would never be forgotten in all the ages of the world.

The battlefield was strewn with corpses of elves, orcs, horses, and other beasts. The air was heavy with the stench of blood. The Dark Lord’s forces stood no chance against the skill of the elves, but their victory came at too great a cost.

Akira Nishikiyama, Prince of the Noldor, stared down at the jewel in his hand. Colored a pale gold, it glittered even without the light of the stars shining down on it. It burned in his hand– too pure and holy for his blood-stained palms.

Once, Nishikiyama would have given anything to get it back from the Dark Lord. This jewel was one of his finest creations– one of three jewels that shone with the Light of Valinor. Nishikiyama had made many creations, but these gems were his pride, his greatest achievement. They symbolized the strength of his kingdom– an artifact to prove his worthiness in leading the Noldor from Valinor to Middle Earth.

And now they were the very thing that destroyed his kingdom.

It was these jewels that the Dark Lord had coveted and stolen-- after winning his trust and whispering lies into Nishikiyama's ears. It was these gems that had driven Nishikiyama to swear an oath to take them back– an oath that brought nothing but chaos and destruction for all the elves. And it was these jewels– and his own cursed oath –that brought about the downfall of his own kingdom.

“So it was all for nothing,” he spoke with tears in his eyes. “Everything I did… everything I sacrificed… and this is what it has led to.”

His kingdom was in ruins. The kingdom that rose to power under his rule was gone because of his pride and ambitions.

“Your Highness.”

Shindo approached him. “It’s getting dark. We have to leave now.”

Nishikiyama shook his head. “You lead them, Shindo,” he said wearily. “I’m not fit to lead them.”

“My Prince?”

“Because of me, the kingdom is ruined,” Nishikiyama continued bitterly. “My ambitions, my pride… it’s destroyed our home.”

He turned to Shindo. “I’m not worthy of being your ruler anymore,” he continued. “Take them anywhere where the Shadow won’t reach them.”

“What about you?” Shindo asked him.

“I don’t know where I'll go,” Nishikiyama said. “But thank you, Shindo. Thank you for everything.”

He walked away, and Shindo didn’t stop him.

With the jewel in hand, Nishikiyama staggered to the shores of the Great Sea. He glared out at the waves, and with every ounce of venom he could muster, he hurled the jewel as far as he could into the deep-blue waters. A tear slid down his face despite himself, and he let out a shaky breath as he closed his eyes.

It was done. His greatest creation was gone.

Where he would go, he had no idea. Nishikiyama couldn’t return to Valinor now– he had too much blood on his hands. And he wasn’t going back to the Noldor– not after his own ambitions ruined their chances of returning to Aman.

In the end, he was all alone.

But it was the perfect punishment for him and his ambitions, for his mistrust towards the Valar, for his foolishness in trusting the Dark Lord.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wandered for nearly two hundred years in solitude. Seasons came and went, and the world changed around him, but Nishikiyama didn’t stop his wandering. He traveled through the realms of Men, taking refuge for a short time before leaving immediately. He wasn’t interested in rebuilding his kingdom anymore– his ambitions had finally cooled down.

But the remainder of the Great Enemy’s forces were trying to find him. They were going to corrupt him, turn him into yet another servant for the Dark Lord– no doubt to force him to craft things for him.

Nishikiyama would rather throw himself into the Great Sea than go into the Shadow. He wasn’t going to take refuge in the elven realms– that was just asking for disaster. But he couldn’t lead an army to the east. No one would want to march under an elf who brought about the fall of his own kingdom. And he couldn’t leave Middle Earth anymore– the Valar would never let him back into Aman.

There was only one other choice left. He would have to hide himself.

And there was someone who could help with that.

It took several more days, but Nishikiyama finally reached the golden trees of Lórien– the realm of Seong-hui.

He was met with arrows pointed at him, but Nishikiyama swallowed his pride and got down on his hands and knees before the Marchwarden.

“I need help,” he pleaded. “Please, let me speak to Lady Seong-hui.”

Despite his reluctance, Joon-gi Han led him to the Lady of the Wood.

Seong-hui was less than pleased to see him here– understandably so. However, she listened to Nishikiyama’s plight.

“His men are on the hunt for me,” Nishikiyama explained. “But there’s nowhere I can go without them following me. And I cannot go back to Valinor anymore. Which means that there’s one option left for me.” He bowed his head. “I want to get rid of my memories.”

“What?!” Seong-hui looked at him in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” Nishikiyama said firmly. “I’m going to destroy my memories and put myself to sleep. It’s the only way to atone for everything I’ve done.”

Despite her reluctance, Seong-hui relented. She presented him with a small crystal vial, filled with a light-blue elixir.

“Drink this, and your memories shall be erased,” she explained. “It works within an hour of consumption, so do not drink it immediately.”

“I would recommend putting some distance between yourself and Lórien before consuming it,” Han told him. “There’s a pack of orcs that’s been tracking you, so you need to leave as soon as you can. And make sure they lose your scent when you leave."

Nishikiyama accepted it. And then, despite knowing the consequences, he made yet another oath with Seong-hui, who swore on the lives of her people to never reveal his identity to him, should he ever wake up again.

And that brought Nishikiyama to a cave in the Trollshaws Forest.

The forces of the Dark Lord were still tracking him. It was a miracle that he hadn’t been caught yet. But his luck was running out, and it wouldn’t be long before they came to the forest.

Nishikiyama entered the cave, letting the darkness swallow him whole. He came to the base of what looked like a large tree trunk, then sat down on the cold, hard ground. He held up the elixir as his mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of memories.

Yuko, his sickly younger sister who was taken far too soon. All the insults and sneers he faced during every goddamn council. Every moment that Jingu had whispered doubts and suspicion into his mind. His kingdom, once a shining city for the elves, now destroyed because of his own pride and ambitions.

He uncorked the vial with trembling hands. Tears spilled down his face as he stared at the elixir within.

He didn’t want to do this. But he had to– for his sake, and for the sake of the elves.

“The responsibility is mine,” he whispered with a bitter smile. “You will never have me, Lord of the Dark.”

He drank the elixir.

#yakuza #yakuza kiwami #akira nishikiyama #nishikiyama akira #ryu ga gotoku #ryu ga gotoku kiwami #rgg #rgg kiwami #lord of the rings #lotr #the silmarillion

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fluffypotatey · 2 years

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Okay so it's only loosely a crossover (the characters don't directly interact until the end) but whatever.

Anyway, after 1500 years, Excalibur has become....kinda like Mjolnir (hammer of Thor) meaning it's semi-sentient and Will Not let itself be picked up except by A) Merlin, B) Arthur, or C) someone it knows to be worthy. The bitch don't stay in the lake, either. It goes where it's needed, and right now, that is the Clusterfuck of Beacon Hills, where it appears buried in a rock (commit to the bit) and when the pack finds it, everyone has a good laugh bc they think it's a prank....except none of them can pull it out. Even with super werewolf strength.

But Stiles can.

(Deaton almost has a fucking stroke when he sees it)

And the rest of it is kinda just vague monster fighting shenanigans at this point, tbh, with plenty of Sterek (obviously) and also Stiles learning magic (I swear I'm not bitter) and at one point there is a dragon that does not get slain but very politely agrees to find a different plot of land to claim after "the blade-bearer" asks her to please leave.

Legit Merlin and Arthur only show up in BH at the end, after the crew is Tired and Bloody and Just Wants A Nap, and Merlin's like, "Christ, can you never stay where I leave you, you overgrown letter-opener?" to Excalibur, and Arthur is just like, "DON'T BE MEAN, MERLIN, hey, kiddo, can I have my sword back now?"

Leaving the rest of them to just be like "..........." bc they just met THEE King Arthur and Wizard Merlin, and they were dressed like a spring break Chad and his prep-goth lesbian wife.

lmao love how Merlin and Arthur come like they've just finished their honeymoon (well deserved tho)

but yes of course Excalibur ends up at Beacon Hills (a beacon for the supernatural am i right? eh?) just sitting pretty in its rock, chilling. it probably didn't even expect to be picked up by anyone other than Merlin or Arthur. sure, Merlin had said "someone [the sword] knows to be worthy" in his spell, but that was never meant to actually happen.

then the McCall Pack saunter in (well, maybe not saunter....more like stumble into the sword's domain because of some outside force or something) and begin their fun little challenge to see who gets to pull the Excalibur out of its stone. it's the most fun the sword's had in ages. then fucking Stiles Stilinski goes to pull out the sword as a joke.....and Excalibur feels its hold on the stone loosen.

oh dear

and you know, you'd think the sword would be pulled out for Scott (main protag and true alpha, all that jazz), but the sword is in Stiles's hands, and now all of them are freaking out (Stiles is the most smug he's ever been, much to the annoyance of everyone).

and then after all the shenanigans are over and our lovely Arthurian duo come in to retake Excalibur. cue Arthur and Stiles becoming petty rivals over the sword because i said so.

Stiles: Finder's keepers Arthur: Uh, no, that's my sword Stiles: And you abandoned it for a couple centuries, and it chose me, sooooo...mine now Arthur: Merlin-- Merlin: No, no, the kid's got a point. I mean, you were dead for 1500 years, give or take Arthur: ....yOU thREW the dAmN sWOrd iN thE fUCkiNG LAKE

#bbc merlin #teen wolf #stiles and arthur playing tug o' war with excalibur #and yes stiles learning magic is a MUST #a lost opportunity on mtv's part #like....they had a druid as their healer and no one thought to ask if he could teach them???? sounds fake #sterek my beloved omfg derek pulling stiles from dangerous fights bc he's STILL inexperienced w/ his magic like #'stiles stop jumping into fights with your sword you have the physical strength of a bean pole' 'but it's EXCALIBUR'#excalibur is stiles's new bat actually #he graduated from swinging bats to swinging the blade (mason owns his bats now)#bbc merlin x teen wolf #crossover #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #stiles #mccall pack

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glowstar826 · 6 months

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers!

Let’s get this baby started! Thanks for the inspo @gracelesslady23!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

60 (blame my HP and AoUAD obsession lmao).

2. What is your total AO3 word count?

471,017. That’s…insane.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

At the moment, mostly for All of Us Are Dead. But of course, I can’t forget the whopping majority of HP fics I have! They really defined the beginning of my fanfic-writing journey.

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

The Filthy Half-Blood Spy (777)

A Meaningful Sacrifice (490)

Albus Potter and the Journey Through Time (481)

The Bravest Man I Ever Knew (277)

My Old Friend, Minerva (267)

As you can see, I really love HP. The second one is AoUAD.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Of course I do! I appreciate everyone who takes the time to leave them.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Oh, I’ll take a quiet life for sure. It’s a canon divergence of A Meaningful Sacrifice, and hoooo boy, that’s probably the single most saddest thing I have ever written in my life. (Never again, Glow. Never again.)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty much all of them have happy endings, so if I were to pick a few, then they would probably be The Bravest Man I Ever Knew, A Miracle in the Midst of September, and Come Back to Me.

The second fic is Downton Abbey while the third is AoUAD.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really, but when I was writing A Meaningful Sacrifice, I got a lot of spam.

9. Do you write smut?

Not explicitly, no. There was one fic I posted (that I since deleted) which features non-graphic smut between Snape and Lupin. (I deleted it because it was too embarrassing to keep on my profile.)

10. Do you write crossovers?

I have one, Finding My Way Back to You (Again)! It’s a crossover where Oh Joonyeong of AoUAD is a doctor in the 20th Century Girl universe who helps Poong Woonho overcome amnesia sustained in a plane crash.

Other than that, I prefer writing AUs where I put characters from one show into another show’s universe. My Duty After School AU with AoUAD characters, Reluctant Duty, is a great example of this.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully, I have not.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yup! Albus Potter and the Journey Through Time in Portuguese on Wattpad (which is unfinished, unfortunately).

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

I have! Of Apologies and Food Fights: A Glimpse Into the Afterlife was an awesome collab with the amazing @glitterfairy-21225!

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh Joonyeong/Jang Woojin, for sure. Since February 2022, these boys have been living in my head rent-free. Honorable mentions include Lee Cheongsan/Nam Onjo, Yang Daesu/Seo Hyoryung, and Lee Junho/Woo Youngwoo. The first four ships are from AoUAD, and the fifth is from Extraordinary Attorney Woo.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will?

Probably Albus Potter and the Journey Through Time, even though it won’t take much longer to finish it. Every time I go back to it, I immediately feel discouraged from writing it because it suddenly seems like too big of an undertaking. However, I will never stop trying!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue, descriptions, and AU ideas (God knows how many are floating around in my head right now 😭).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Having too many ideas. I swear, if I could just commit to finishing one project, then I would have way more completed fics.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language?

It would be all fine and dandy if it uses the Roman alphabet (think French, Spanish, German), but if it was a language like Korean or Chinese, then I’d rather write the transliteration since my writing would be targeted towards English readers/speakers. But obviously, I’d try my best to write other cultures authentically.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Though they’re all deleted, I first wrote for Detroit: Become Human. That was what got me into fanfic in the first place because I reasoned that, since the game had 99+ endings, fanfiction was fair game (I really hated fanfic at the time).

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

A Meaningful Sacrifice, hands down. That was probably my single best piece of writing in terms of characterization, setting, worldbuilding, and cohesiveness with the original show. Additionally, I ended up creating two very important OCs which had significant influence in the main character’s life.

Writing that fic inspired a whole lore which is present in my other AoUAD fics like Washed Down the Drain, Us, Withering Under the Sun, and Reluctant Duty. I also gained an awesome friend from it in @glitterfairy-21225, so yeah. One of my best fanfic-writing experiences to date.

On that final note, here’s your tag to do this, @glitterfairy-21225! <3

#all of us are dead #harry potter #extraordinary attorney woo #downton abbey #fic writer questions #long post

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karalynlovescake · 1 year

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WIP tag game: list the WIP you've got, with a brief description.

Tagged by @notallsandmen

Uh. Let's see.

The Black Unicorn AU, still, unfortunately. I know how the next bit is going to go finally, I just need to get it there. (I had planned on working on this while on my long airplane rides but it didn't happen.)

Next chapter of the one I'm posting anonymously, which apparently 30 whole people are reading, based on subscriptions.

Sequel to "That was then and this is now, " which is from Hob’s POV

Guys and Dolls AU which is what I actually spent my time on the airplane doing, and is the crackiest of crack, but is what happens when you watch an old musical while trapped on an airplane after being awake for 24 hours

"An Unexpected Vacation," based on a prompt in the old Discord server where a few remaining nightmares kidnap Hob away to the Dreaming in the 2010's in a desperate bid to try and lure their missing king back, and Hob is like "the 21st century is a mess, I don’t know what’s going on, but I deserve a vacation. "

"Territorial" which is another Good Omens crossover in the 'Hob Gadling rescues Dream from Roderick Burgess' tag with the focus being post-rescue.

Paladin of Souls AU (I swear I'm going to finish this one but I'm not posting anything until I do.)

BAMF Hob and his sulking 12 foot tall Nightmare of a husband rescue Desire from humans, since apparently no one will write it for me.

If you're reading this and haven't done it but would like to, consider yourself tagged. Or of you want to send me an ask about any of them I could probably be flattered into sharing a snippet or more details.

#wip list #tumblr writing memes

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princelythirsts · 8 months

Note

Hi! I’m gonna send Teddy Lobo from Renfield and my s/i, Bea for your ask game if that’s alright! I hope I didn’t go overboard with all this 😅.

Both are kinda gangsters (though her much less so) with a kinda Romeo/Juliet thing going for them at first (rival families/Teddy temporarily dies).

Teddy is the more goofy and fun one but he brings it out a bit in Bea too, like they play off each other easily. Bea is a bit more proactive than Teddy with violence, while he’s more on the ball with socializing. Both have mouths like a sailor and enjoy flashy outfits. She’s the type to comfort him when he’s stressed and he’s the type to help her out of her shell.

Lol this is just enough info for me! But I don’t mind getting more or less tbh, I just like hearing about people’s ships

In a Harlots AU I don’t think you’d have to change much - iirc Teddy’s family goes back to the 17th century in New Orleans so I can see him visiting Europe once in a while for making connections on behalf of his family. And partying in between lol.

I love the idea of them hitting London on a vacation / criminal organization networking trip and going to a dinner party with Charles & Euphemia.

I think Phemie and Teddy are more likely to get along - being the more energetic and spontaneous ones. Bea and Charles are (relatively) levelheaded and might like a respite from the others’ wild antics.

There would be a little language barrier since Phemie doesn’t speak French - so what better time to learn, right?

(Charles can always translate for them, sure, but he’d struggle with anything vulgar / curse related. He is the only one who can’t swear among them.)

Overall cute double date material and the kind of friends you make in your 30s that you only see once in a while bc you don’t usually just hang out for a night, it always becomes this big thing that everyone’s (contentedly) exhausted after.

—-

game: send me an ask about your selfship & I’ll tell you how they could fit into an AU / crossover with one of my ships

#thirsty ramblings #nightmarewritings #miscelliteous #others’ ships #Phemie posting #give me more ships so we can be friends #or enemies idk #selfship ask Game #proship selfship

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birboon · 10 months

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ABOUT ME!

Hi, my name's Poppy and I write (or try to write) fanfiction! As a full-time student, I don't really have a lot of free time on my hands, so my writing schedule is kind of sporadic, but I really enjoy what I do :)

Here's a couple fun facts:

I'm British (so expect slang and a lot of swearing in my more mature fics)

I'm 20 years old

I play the guitar

I'm an amateur boxer and qualified SCUBA diver!

I'm in a BUNCH of fandoms - lotr, marvel, dc, harry potter, supernatural, hannibal just to name a few - and I'm always expanding that list because I just consume media like it's oxygen.

Right now, I have a bunch of on-going projects!

FIC MASTERLIST:

THE BLIND JUSTICE SERIES

This is an MCUxDC cross-over AU where I try to rewrite (basically) the entire marvel cinematic universe, combining it with characters from DC comics too! Because I love superheroes, and I need some of my favourite characters to meet (and shag) more than I need water (reminder to stay hydrated, folks!).

Currently, the series has 6 planned books in total - but only three of them are in the 'writing' stage, and of those three only 1 is my main priority (oops). Anyway, here's the run down:

1. CIRCUS BOY

Dick Grayson x Peter Parker

❝I fight psycho clowns, dude. I can handle a little crazy❞

When teenage heart-throb Dick Grayson, ward of Bruce Wayne and heir to the Wayne Fortune, meets high school hero Peter Parker out of pure happenstance, things don't quite go to plan. And as their awkward acquaintance begins to expand beyond that of chance meetings... well. Dick might just find out that his place in the food chain isn't quite as cemented as he'd once thought.

Dick Grayson x Peter Parker Spider-Man: Homecoming - ? [Marvel/DC crossover]

READ IT HERE!

2. ABRACADABRA

❝Unlike you, I actually know the magic words.❞

Zatanna Zatara was a magician. She worked with the impossible, performed the improbable, strayed from the realms of the natural world and worked it to her own whims. But what she couldn't perform were miracles.

Enter Stephen Strange from the stage left, coming to ruin her life one last time.

Zatanna Zatara x Stephen Strange Pre-Avengers: Infinity War - ? [Marvel/DC crossover]

3. NIGHT LIGHT

❝Call me a glowstick one more time and you can say goodbye to your other arm.❞

Kyle Rayner was a lost soul. No one would deny it - those that knew him most saw but a spark of the man, the hero, that he used to be. Coming back from the snap did a number on him, realizing the insignificance of everything he's done. Then, he met James Buchanan Barnes. A man just as lost as himself. Can he light the way for them both, or will they be stuck in the shadows forever?

Kyle Rayner x Bucky Barnes Falcon & The Winter Soldier - ? [Marvel/DC crossover]

NYMMRIL THE GOLD

This is my on-going Lord of the Rings fic! It follows Beorn's ward and fellow skin-changer, Nymmril: a young and jovial man who takes the form of a great lion! It's a Legolas x oc fic, with a dash of Fili x oc sprinkled in the first act. It's a mix of the Jackson films (extended editions ofc) and Tolkein's original works, for the fun and the lore!

I'm currently about half way through Act 1, which begins during The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug and follows all the way through to the end of the book. But as a whole, the fic will follow Nymmril's journey through the Fellowship of the Ring and beyond, all the way to Return of the King.

Nymmril, a young skin-changer from the far deserts, has been under the care of his Keeper Beorn for centuries. With the dragon present, it was deemed too dangerous for him to leave. But what happens when Gandalf and his company of mischievous dwarrow stumble into the Carrock asking for help? Only one thing is for certain: A lion's loyalty is a powerful weapon.

READ MORE ABOUT IT HERE!

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zenaidamacrouras1 · 1 year

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Brainstorming of Lord of the Rings / MCU (but really Stucky who am I fooling) crossover:

-is it an Alternate universe or canon adjacent?

-is there a mission or a plot a logical set up, or are all the hobbits just like drinking beer in the tower and singing all their songs and the avengers and the audience are like, cool, let's roll with this, see what happens.

-Clint and Thor would be so happy to drink beer and sing songs with the hobbits. Bucky and Natasha would get into it when they realized there were dances to go along with the drinking songs. They would get weirdly competitive about learning the Shire dances.

-Does Aragorn flirt with Steve and Bucky knifes him?

-Bucky's been so intent at being better at the Shire Dancing than Natasha that he didn't realize that Steve and Aragorn are close in conversation, their heads tilted together, and a smile on Aragorn's face and lean to his body language that Bucky DOES NOT feel comfortable about.

-But maybe Steve and Bucky end up in middle earth because of (hand wave reasons multiverse)

-Bucky with a mithril arm though

-Obviously Bucky is still jealous of Aragorn and Steve casually flirting even though Steve swears they aren't flirting at all. Bucky wants to knife Aragorn.

-"Seriously who is Aragorn trying to impress with his flowing beautiful dark hairs, dear god does Bucky look that pretentious with his long hair? No, Bucky was reasonably sure he looked cool with the long hair, but Aragorn definitely looks pretentious. Maybe Bucky needs to cut his hair. But what if Steve likes the long hair better? Oh nice sword, very fancy, oh it has a name? "Anduril - the flame of the west" how pretentious! Oh you didn't name it yourself it was named through myth over the centuries and it was forged in a sacred ceremony as part of a prophecy or something, cool cool cool, you know what's better than a sword? A giant gun, how about that. I can even name my gun. I'm naming it Steve."

-Bucky is so jealous of Anduril. Anduril is Aragorn's sword in case you somehow don't know that (everyone knows that right?)

-BUCKY with a mithril arm though, and Gimli's reaction to it though. "My cousin Thorndrum (made up I can't remember any of Gimli's cousins) could have made it better." Gimli says, but inside he's like, "dammmmnnn me and Thorndrum need to get a look inside that arm because we could NOT have made it better."

#lord of the rings #stucky au #mcu #mcu lotr crossover fanfiction which I'll probably never write

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spongebobafettywap · 8 months

Note

Well... I actually stumbled on the Star Wars X X-Men Fanart you're referencing about a week ago and, after reading the real X-Men parody of it, feel completely robbed of how much of an interesting plot it could have been...

Because what we actually got in Sins of Sinister is Mystique and Destiny leaving the mutant island after the latter foresaw Sinister taking over the whole thing (+ Earth and other worlds) 5 WHOLE years before shit hit the fan and... They both completely ditched Rogue. Throughout the 3 issue series that continuously features Mystique and Destiny, neither even mentioned her by name. As far as we know? She ded

Beast for the past 4 years has been entirely rewritten to be an irredeemable villain, worse than Sinister from what the writers explicitly tell us. He's still team bad guy here

Nighcrawler was mostly caged and incapacitated throughout the whole event. He's out of the loop for any crossover because none of his friends or biological family ever came for him

Gambit, like Rogue, is non-existent in this plot. Otherwise, he would have taken the spotlight from Sinister and his clones or Storm and the mutant team she's been hanging out with this whole time instead of her longtime friends or Nightcrawler's half a dozen spliced clones or Destiny

The parody is one issue set 100 years in the future and features longtime characters like Storm + X-Men's Darth Vader counterpart... Destiny wearing a new weird outfit

That's it

Where's Mystique? Well she showed up for a 3 panel flashback in that issue before croaking in a battle that didn't matter. Destiny warned her but Mystique was fed up with being cooped away in a cell (?!?) for the past century by her so she decided to leave for what she knew was her death instead of staying any longer with Irene. She's the only one to die amongst a team of newbies and for the rest of the event, the only sight we get of her is a flashback of Destiny crying over her corpse (which didn't even look bruised in its Snow White like glass coffin)

The plot was that they (Storm and Destiny) need to now look for the macguffin to reset the timeline back before Sinister took over because... Mystique was dead. That's Destiny's only motivation to participate in this plot and yes both her and Mystique could have prevented shit hitting the fan this whole time but didn't

The story ends with Storm killing Destiny (which she saw coming but whatev) to not reset the shitty timeline because look at all the people who were born during it and the nation she built (completely disregarding the threat Sinister was as he kept expanding his conquest on the galaxy even magic worlds like Hell) and then getting a power boost to teleport everything and everyone away before dying

Results: Needs more Polaris and fan content is my only canon from now on

Yeah that fan's concept of a X-men Star Wars is way better than anything Marvel would do with it, I kind of guessed that would be the case even if they didn't do what they did its like you can count on them to mess a concept up. I swear Community has a similar vibe to what X-men SHOULD be with a ensemble cast of characters doing various things sometimes parodying movie plots. Marvel should have taken notes from their Star Wars homage.

So what you're saying is they're turning Beast into Dark Beast? Seriously? Why are they trying to make almost every X-men member a Supervillain? most of them are REFORMED Supervillains. Great job missing the point of your own franchise Marvel! hahaha.

This all sounded like a major mess really.

#Maz answers #X-men

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sunnydaleherald · 1 year

Text

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Sunday, February 26

Willow: “Hey! I was in the library during the quake, almost got buried under some 19th century literature. And I don’t have to tell you how hard it is to dig through some of that stuff. You okay?” Buffy: “Yeah. A couple of broken knick-knacks, but no biggies.” Willow: “Well, Porter dorm is completely blacked out. So naturally they are dealing with the crisis the only way they know how: ‘Aftershock Party’.” Buffy: “Ah, this from the dorm that brought us the ‘Somebody Sneezed’ party and the ‘Day That Ends in Y’ party.”

~~Doomed~~

The Sunnydale Herald is looking for at least one new editor. Contributing to the Herald is a great way to get your Buffy on! Find out more here.

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

if it feels good, then it can’t be bad (Buffy/Spike, E) by untiljanuary

A Welcome Distraction (Willow/Tara, T) by RollisiCarisi

Jealousy, Jealousy (Buffy/Faith, M) by sapphicsummers

Tension (Buffy/Spike, R) by ClowniestLivEver

[Chaptered Fiction]

Buffy the Tenno, Chapter 6 (Crossover with Warframe, T) by DarkPhoenixLady

Like Unto Death's Own, Chapter 1 (Buffy, T) by Aelynthi_Arcanna

The Humanity, Chapter 10 (Buffy/Spike, R) by holetoledo

Bleeding Poetry, Chapter 70 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Dusty

Somewhere In The World, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Nik84

Yellowstone Protector, Chapter 12 (Crossover with Yellowstone, FR13) by Buffyworldbuilder

BtVS - The College Years, Chapter 36 (Non-crossover, FR15) by Philister

A Matter of Control, Chapter 11 (Crossover with Supernatural, FR13) by Rod

Threshold, Chapter 1 (Crossover with X-Men, FR15) by Aelynthi

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork:AI generated Alyson hannigan art by emmatheslayer

Artwork:AI generated Alyson hannigan art #2 by emmatheslayer

Animation: Lego Angel - Orb of Ramjarin by tmcarlee

Artwork:buffy is helping faith open her estradiol by lehaneisms

Manip:★ drusilla/jenny for ella ★ by sunbelieved

Gifset:2.10, “What’s My Line, Part Two” by usermaxie

Video: Buffy Summers | Telephone by Megan Herondale

Video: Buffy Summers + CC List // Create A Sim - The Sims 4 by eunie

Video: Buffy & Faith | Throne by Megan Herondale

Video: Buffy and Spike - I Swear by juliarox241

Video: Buffy and Angel - Right Now by juliarox241

[Reviews & Recaps]

PREVIEW | Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Season 4) Episodes Ranked by The Cherry Picker

A Viewer's Guide to Buffy the Vampire Slayer | Part Three - Prophecy Girl by Kat Taylor

I WISH TILLOW WERE TOGETHER AGAIN - Buffy the Vampire Slayer Reaction - 6x14 - Older and Far Away by TheLexiCrowd

[Fandom Discussions]

[the logic behind Xander/Willow] by norakovacs

[changes to Amends] by norakovacs

[Dru wanted to be good] by

Help Me Answer Buffy ( fan base ) Related Questions If You Dare by knives

Rewrite any scene [cont.] by multiple authors

Thoughts in the moment [btvs season 3] by multiple authors

The trio on Angel (what if) [cont.] by multiple authors

Poll: Not Fade Away A cliffhanger or not a Cliffhanger by multiple authors

Poll: Best 'other' character for a spin-off series? by multiple authors

Veruca by multiple authors

Anyone here that actually liked Riley’s character? by multiple authors

Sensitive Angel is an awesome Angel by multiple authors

Which character do you think Spike was most likely to fall for if he was gay by multiple authors

Disussion: Never Kill a Boy on the First Date (ep 5, s1) - next disussion will be the 5th of mar. Watch ep6, s1: The Pack by multiple authors

What would happen if someone like Chidi Anagonye was turned? by multiple authors

Which gal had some of the best scenes with Spike? by multiple authors

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Publication: Buffy Basically Just Confirmed Fans Are Right About Faith's Sexuality via Screen Rant

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

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cakemagemaeve · 2 years

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Dear Yuletide Santa,

Thank you for volunteering to write for one of these fandoms! I can’t wait to see which one you pick and what you do with it! Below are some details on what I would like to see, but of course you’re welcome to use your own judgment instead.

Ghosts:

My favorite part of this show is watching all of the ghostly hijinks and mayhem, and so I'd love to see a sort of slice of life (or death, as the case may be) of them getting into mischief over the decades/centuries. Alberta and Sasappis are my favorites, but Flower is rapidly catching up to them. Her relationship with Thorfinn is also adorable as hell, and if you're up for it I'd love to see their first meeting, even if it's just a short little scene sandwiched in-between tales of ghostly antics. Or it could be all about them. Or if you'd rather, I'd also love a fic where Jay gains the ability to see the ghosts and we see how his relationships with at least one these three specific characters develop(s) (I mean, we already know he and Pete are destined to be BFFs, but there's a lot of room for interpretation when it comes to the other ghosts).

Do Want*: humor, fluff, wacky ghost antics, Alberta being fabulous and snarky to cover her insecurities, Sasappis being deadpan and snarky to cover his insecurities, Flower doing that thing where she says something smart and insightful and then immediately forgets it because drugs.

*Note, these are just suggestions. You don't have to include all of them.

Do Not Want: crossovers, rape, abuse, gore, or darkfic in general. If you end up writing any sex scenes (which really isn't necessary if you'd rather not), please no rimming, strap-ons, scat or watersports.

The Good Place:

Okay, so I like Chidi/Eleanor fairly well. I mean, as canon couples go, they're like god-tier. That said, I always liked Tahani/Eleanor better, because I'm a huge lesbian like that. That said, Chidi/Eleanor/Tahani is cool, too. As long as Tahani and Eleanor make out (either on or offscreen, so to speak. Writer's choice) and there's lots of creative swearing on Eleanor's part and Chidi gets at least one stomach ache, I'm probably going to be happy. AUs are fine, too. I'm particularly fond of pirate and/or academia and/or vampire/werewolf/supernatural type AUs. Also, I've been trying to start a retirement home AU trend, but so far, no luck. Obviously you don't have to write it (or any AU for that matter, but it'd be hilarious if you did.

Do Want*: humor, fluff, banter, philosophy, swearing, Eleanor and Tahani having heated arguments that lead to make-outs, Chidi ending up happy whether he's with Eleanor or not, and Jason and/or Janet just being themselves in the background.

*Note, these are just suggestions. You don't have to include all of them.

The Saddle Club:

So I was utterly OBSESSED with this series when I was a kid, just as I was obsessed with anything and everything horse-related. I'm still obsessed with horses (even if I've barely touched a horse since my own died T_T) and I still have a great deal of fondness for these books. I lowkey ship Stevie/Carole, Stevie/Veronica and Lisa/Kate, but believe me when I say that shippy content is not necessary at all. Hell, if you just want to write about them being dorky horse girls, that's cool too!

Do Want*: fluff, comedy, horses, pretending that the Pine Hollow series doesn't exist, Stevie's weird ice cream concoctions, horses, trail rides, Stevie fighting with Veronica, the Bar None ranch, wacky horse girl antics, horses. Did I mention horses?

*Note, these are just suggestions. You don't have to include all of them. Except the horses. There must be horses.

Do Not Want: crossovers, rape, abuse, gore, or darkfic in general. No acknowledging the existence of that godawful Pine Hollow sequel series. Also, no smut please, not even if it takes place in a stable, which is a bad idea in general, by the way. It's like sex on the beach. It sounds romantic in theory, but it's such a terrible idea in practice. So much hay. So much stall bedding. So much dust. So much horse hair. So much horse manure. All things you do NOT want anywhere near your fiddly bits. Also you could spook the horses, but I digress. I just don't want to think of the Saddle Club having sex, even if they're adults at the time. The thought just kinda squicks me out. *shrugs*

Star Trek: Picard:

I have loved Seven of Nine for roughly two decades, and during that time I almost exclusively shipped her with Janeway (which I still do <333). Raffi is pretty much the only real exception, and even then I prefer Janeway/Seven/Raffi (although I do enjoy Seven/Raffi on its own. Just not as much). I also love Raffi and Seven's relationship with Elnor, how he's become a surrogate son to both of them. He'll never replace Icheb or Raffi's own estranged son, of course, but no one ever expected him to in the first place. They're all three wounded souls helping each other heal, and that's what I love most about their dynamic. A fic exploring that dynamic would be lovely, even if you can't manage/don't want to get Janeway involved, too. If you are willing to bring her into it, though, I'd love to see a fic wherein Seven introduces her wife Janeway to their new girlfriend, Raffi, as well as their new son Elnor, both of whom she takes to right away. Bonus points if they all go on a space adventure together.

Do Want*: fluff, humor, Janeway, wacky space antics, time travel bullshit, Raffi and Seven healing together, Elnor being adorable and badass at the same time, Seven and/or Raffi and/or Elnor and/or Janeway just going absolutely feral on some well-deserving asshole or other, Seven getting to say 'fuck' because she absolutely deserves to.

*Note, these are just suggestions. You don't have to include all of them.

Do Not Want: crossovers (except with other Star Trek series), rape, abuse, gore, or darkfic in general. Also, if you don't end up writing Janeway/Seven/Raffi, at least don't refer to Janeway as a mother-figure to Seven, please. If you end up writing any sex scenes (which really isn't necessary if you'd rather not), then please no rimming, strap-ons, scat or watersports.

#dear yuletide writer #yuletide fanfic exchange #yuletide 2022 #the good place #ghosts (us)#the saddle club #star trek: picard #(sorry not sorry for my egregious abuse of parentheses)

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fific7 · 3 years

Text

Evil Twins - Part 1

Billy Russo & Aleksander Morozova x Reader

Summary: When two worlds which have already collided then collide with yours - that’s an explosive situation.

A/N: This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with quite a lot of lemon zest 🍋 My Fantasy Punisher/Shadow and Bone crossover AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit)

New York City

Billy Russo awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed and grabbing for his Glock. What the hell? Thunder was rumbling loudly overhead and he sighed, putting the gun back under his pillow and laying his head back down. It was probably the bright flash of the lightning followed by the beginning of the thunderclap that had awakened him.

He was just closing his eyes again when he spotted something, only vaguely visible in the dim light from outside, in the corner of his room. It was…. swirling?

Grabbing his gun again, he sat up and pointed the Glock at the corner. It was getting bigger. “You’ve got two seconds to show yourself before I blow your fucking head off,” he announced, calmly.

He squinted a bit to get a better look but it didn’t make much difference. What the fuck was it?! Smoke? He decided he had no choice and leant over, switching on the wall-mounted bedside light.

The… smoke cloud?… was still increasing, becoming bigger and blacker with every second. Then he saw the vaguest silhouette of a tall figure within it, moving towards him. He leapt out of bed, on the far side of it so it was between him and whatever the fuck this was.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Aleksander Morozova - or General Kirigan, the Darkling, the Black Heretic, the Starless Saint, whichever of his many names he decided to call himself at any given point in time - could see a tall figure brandishing some kind of strange gun at him as he began to emerge from the swirling shadows.

Following certain unfortunate incidents - including a huge and furious argument with his darling mother - he’d decided it would be politic to get out of Ravka for a while, much as he didn’t really want to. But this wasn’t where he should’ve ended up. What was this place?

He emerged completely from the shadows and immediately felt something bounce off his kefta. He heard a ‘ding’ and looked down at the wooden floor at his feet. A bullet.

Looking quickly back up, he saw that the man opposite him was glaring at him, eyes wide and unbelieving, gun still pointing at him. He also realised that looking at this man was like looking in a mirror.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was dumbfounded. He’d just shot the fucker! And the bullet had bounced off him. Fuck. He threw the gun down onto the bed and slid his hand under his other pillow, pulling out his Ka-Bar. No way he’d get past that.

He took a moment to have a good look at the dude opposite him.

Dressed in riding boots and some kinda long black tunic thing, with a black fur-collared full-length cape over it. What a freak! Was he a goth or something? But then he realised something even freakier…. this guy looked exactly like him.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The two of them were still contemplating each other, when finally Billy spoke. “Who are you? And what are you?”

Aleksander laughed. “Usually it’s me asking those questions.” Billy huffed, “You’re in my fuckin’ apartment, so just answer them!” He saw the guy draw himself up, and he said, “I am Aleksander Morozova, also known as General Kirigan, commander of the Second Army of the Grisha.”

“Means fuck all to me,” grunted Billy. “One name not enough for you? And why do you look like me? Are you some kinda shapeshifter or somethin’?”

“I have many names because I am centuries old. And I don’t know what a… shapeshifter?…is,” said the other, “…but I am the Shadow Summoner. And who are you? Where is this?” he waved a hand round at the apartment.

Billy scoffed, “Centuries old?!! Oh fuck off. You’re the same age as me by the looks of ya! I’m Billy Russo, ex-US Marine Lieutenant and now CEO of Anvil. That’s a security company, mainly staffed by ex-military vets. And this….” he also waved his hand around, “…is my penthouse apartment in New York City.”

Aleksander shook his head, “I have never heard of that place.”

Billy eye-rolled, “How can you not have heard of New York?!” he asked, incredulously. “And what the fuck is a Shadow Summoner?”

“It’s becoming obvious we are from two different worlds. I seem to have been diverted from my intended course, I don’t know why,” shrugged Aleksander. “Well maybe it’s time you took off to wherever it is you were headed for in the first place,” said Billy.

“It seems that I have been brought here for some specific reason,” replied Aleksander, “and it also seems I cannot leave for the moment, I have already tried.” He waved both hands around, firstly extending and then curling up his fingers, watching them closely as he did but it was clear that nothing at all was happening. “You see? Nothing. It is worrying to me. My shadows are no longer obeying my commands at present.”

Billy sighed and perched on the edge of his bed, “Great! Just fuckin’ great! This is just…! So when can you leave?” The other man spread out his arms, “I have no idea.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

Way across the Atlantic, you were already hard at work in your little bookstore in Appledore, Devon. You had a snug apartment above the store and had filled it with lots of your favourite things. It was a cute little coastal town and you loved living there. The community was small and friendly especially in the winter months, only increasing in summer with all the tourists who came to stay. As long as you made a decent living during the holiday season - which you normally did - then winter was a much calmer, chilled time of year.

You added a final book to the new display in the centre of your store and stepped back to take in how it was looking. Yeah, not bad if you did say so yourself. It was comprised of a fantasy trilogy for young adults about some ancient guy who could summon up shadows, and was a bit of a villain from what you could tell from the story synopsis on the book covers.

Not your cup of tea, to be honest. Generally speaking, all types of action stories were more your thing - something with a bit of ‘va-va-voom’. In fact, you were looking forward to tonight when you’d decided you were going to sit down with a nice tub of ice cream and rewatch one of your favourite series. The one with a relentless avenging ex-Marine whose family had been killed and his psycho ex-Marines buddy. Who happened to be rather hot to your mind.

You sighed a little, heading back behind the counter. That was the only thing about Appledore. It was a lovely place, but there was a distinct lack of hot guys.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

Billy and Aleksander were sitting on separate sofas in Billy’s living area, eyeing each other warily. Aleksander had been trying to explain to Billy all about his world, the Grisha, the Fold, volcras, Ravka, the Sun Summoner, sand skiffs - as much as he could.

It had blown Billy’s mind, to be honest. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. In turn, he’d explained all about his military career and the shitshow which had eventually developed once he’d come back to New York. Aleksander looked as equally confused as Billy.

Billy sighed, “I mean, what the hell are you gonna do? You don’t belong here. I need to go to work in a couple of hours. I’m not leaving you here so I’d need to take you to Anvil with me, and you sure as hell can’t go out looking like that.”

Aleksander looked down at his kefta which he’d unbuttoned. His cape was draped over the back of the sofa. “What is wrong with the way I look?” he huffed. “S’pose I could always say you were going to a Comic Con,” muttered Billy. “A what?” “A Comic Con. it’s where fans of fantasy comics go to have fun. They dress up as their favourite characters sometimes. I could always say it was cosplay.”

Aleksander shook his head, “I still don’t understand what you’re talking about. Are you saying I’d look out of place in my uniform? All the Grisha wear these,” he pointed at his kefta. “Not what we wear here,” said Billy, “…and I still don’t get why you look so much like me.”

“I have no idea!” said Aleksander, through gritted teeth, “I told you that already!” “Alright, alright! Calm down.” “I AM CALM!!!” roared the other man.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

Slightly later that morning, Billy was showered, suited and booted and ready for work. He’d persuaded his uninvited visitor to put on a borrowed leather jacket of Billy’s over his kefta as Aleksander refused to take it off. He’d also made him put on a pair of black trainers, which he’d done very reluctantly. These two items had instantly transformed the freaky-looking guy into someone at least a little more acceptable to your average New Yorker.

Aleksander was wriggling around in the jacket, “It’s not very comfortable.” Billy heaved yet another large sigh - he felt like this was all he’d been doing this morning - “Look, just wear it! You’ll get used to it.” He noticed the other guy sniffing at the collar of the jacket, then his eyes lifted to Billy’s, “You wear perfume?!” “Men’s cologne,” snapped Billy, “or aftershave, as it’s also known because - guess what! - you use it after you’ve shaved!”

His fingers stroking his chin, Aleksander nodded, “Okay, that I understand. We do not use this perfume in Ravka.” “Cologne!” yelled Billy. “Fine, cologne then. Why don’t you like it when I call it perfume? That’s what it is, after all.” “Women wear perfume. Men wear cologne. Okay? Now c’mon, I’m gonna be late.”

Billy strode over to his front door and tried to open it. The handle wouldn’t budge. He shook it, rattled it, pulled the door handle back and forward, exerting more and more strength but nothing worked. He stood back from the door. “It won’t open,” he said, rather unnecessarily. He looked at Aleksander, “Is this you? Or something to do with you?” “No!” he protested, “I have nothing to do with this.”

A somewhat raspy female voice spoke from behind them, “No, but I do.”

The two men swung round, both gaping as they saw that there were what could only be described as rippling waves distorting the whole interior of Billy’s flat. The light had also diminished quite drastically and then they both saw a woman’s head and shoulders start to become defined and then fully visible in amongst the ripples. She seemed to float there at head height but she obviously wasn’t physically present.

“Mother!” exclaimed Aleksander.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

You snuggled down amongst the soft cushions on your sofa, tub of ice cream and spoon in hand and scrolled to the series you were looking for. It was quite gory in places but you loved it - except for the bit right at the end where the hot dude got killed. That made you sad although you couldn’t deny he definitely had psychopathic tendencies.

As you were looking for the one you wanted to watch, another series caught your eye in the ‘Suggested for You’ section. Hey, it must be based on that trilogy of books you had in the store right now. Maybe you’d give it a try after you’d finished your current one.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

New York City

“Mother?” echoed Billy, “….what’s going on here?!”

The woman’s head swivelled towards him then back to Aleksander. “My two boys, together again. How sweet.”

“What!?” said the two men in tandem. She gave a bitter laugh, “How I managed to produce two such problematic children, I’ll never know.” “What are you talking about, Baghra?” ground out Aleksander. Billy was just standing there, dumbfounded and looking between the two of them when suddenly her glare focussed in on him.

“Maxim.” Billy returned her stare, “I’m Billy!” he corrected her. She shook her head, “You will forever be Maxim to me. And as I’m your mother, do not argue with me. Now…. no doubt Aleksander has been making a great fuss about how he’s many centuries old, has he?” “He did mention it,” said Billy, begrudgingly. She nodded, “I thought he might have. Listen to me, both of you. You are twins, so obviously you were born within minutes of each other. To me.” The two men exchanged glances, before looking back at her. “It became obvious to me that Aleksander - from a relatively early age - was going to cause himself and everyone around him nothing but trouble and strife, so I took a radical step.” “What did you do, Baghra?” questioned Aleksander.

“If you’d have patience, I’m trying to tell you!” she snapped, before continuing, “I got one of the few Heartrenders in existence at that time to take Maxim out of Ravka to a secret location. There, he placed him in long-term suspended animation. When you…” she pointed an accusatory finger at Aleksander, “….started all that nonsense with the Sun Summoner and hunting for the stag, I travelled with another Heartrender to where Maxim was, and brought him out of his enforced hibernation. I had to protect him as there was no guarantee you’d survive, Aleksander.” She stared at his scowling face and carried on speaking.

“He had no memories remaining of his past life and so I took him into the forest, there is a portal there which only I know of. There used to be more knew about it but I am the only one left now. Other universes can be reached through it. And I decided to send Maxim to another one. This one. It was only three months ago in Ravkan time, but in this universe more than thirty years have passed.”

“Wait… what?!” Billy was pissed. “You… you just threw me into some portal and walked away? Not knowing where I would end up?” “I had to save one of my sons!” she spat out, “…the other one had lost his mind and was on a collision course with disaster!” Billy put his head in his hands, before looking up again and raging at her, “I was abandoned for a second time by the woman I thought was my mother in this universe! She was a drug user, a total mess! I was placed in an orphanage… it was terrible!” He saw a remorseful look pass over her face for a split second, “I am sorry, Maxim! But I had no choice. Then I had to step in again when he…” pointing again at Aleksander, “….was nearly killed by volcras. I managed to get him to the portal before he fully regained consciousness. He thinks it was his idea to leave Ravka after we had an argument, but I managed to plant that idea in his mind before I pushed him into the portal.”

Billy and Aleksander both snorted in unison, then glanced at each other again. Billy looked back at her, “You’re sorry? That doesn’t quite cover it. I went to war! And now I’m in a very bad situation due to things which went down in Afghanistan during that war.” Aleksander chipped in, “And how dare you make a decision like sending me to another universe without consulting me first?”

The sigh Baghra gave echoed round the apartment. “You are a pair of ungrateful whelps! And now it sounds like I have to get you of trouble too!” She pointed at Billy this time. “I firstly had to find some very old documents about it, but I managed to find out how to enter the limbo section of the portal, which this is, because I wished to speak to both of you before I sent you on your next journey.” She lifted her hands and swirled them around in a kind of ritualistic fashion, “Be on your way to the next universe!” she chanted, and suddenly the rippling got even more pronounced.

Billy and Aleksander began feeling overwhelmingly dizzy, feeling as if they were falling but in fact realised they seemed to be rushing through time and space.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Devon, UK

It was Saturday tomorrow so because you could sleep in a bit as you opened later, you finished the first series (but not the second one - it always upset you) of the one you’d originally been watching, and had then moved on to the one based on the trilogy.

You peered more closely at your TV screen - yeah! you were right, the hot bad guy looked so similar to the hot bad dude in the other series they could be twins! Was it the same actor? You’d need to check on the credits but it must be, surely.

No reflection on the series you were watching, but having finished your ice cream you dozed off during episode 6.

You woke up - you had no idea how much later - and as you sat up slightly, realised that you were feeling very strange. Standing up from the sofa, you were so dizzy that you collapsed back down onto it. You tried not to panic, but you’d no clue as to why you felt so unwell all of a sudden.

Then you noticed that your apartment appeared to be rippling. Rippling??!! What the…. The rippling waves began to die down a little and you were suddenly aware of two looming figures standing over you. Their outlines and features slowly became more defined, more solid, and eventually you realised you were looking up at both the hot bad dudes from the TV.

Of course you were.

Okay, your reeling mind said to you, maybe the celestial Powers That Be had been listening when you were complaining about the lack of hot guys in your town.

They were both looking down at you, clear interest in their eyes. Maybe because you were wearing silky shorts with matching tank T. Your sleepwear didn’t leave too much to the imagination.

So you stared at them, and they stared right back at you, although again you were acutely aware of two sets of very dark eyes roaming all over your body.

You wondered if someone had spiked your ice cream.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

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