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charlietheepicwriter7 · 1 year

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"I'm telling you, she's the best bloody runes expert this side of the Mississippi," John Constantine told the other members of the Justice League as he raised his hand to knock on the old screen door. He hadn't expected his ex-wife to stay here, in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere, but Spittoon, Arkansas, was the hill-billy hole it was when he last left. "If anyone can decipher the ritual to summon the ghost king, it's her--"

The door disappeared before he could knock, and a shotgun was shoved in his face. John smiled the best he could. "Hey, sweetheart."

Alicia Walker glared back at him. "Constantine."

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This is the "John Constantine used to be married to Danny Fenton's Aunt Alicia" AU. Some idea's I've had:

Maddie introduced them. Maddie had dragged Alicia into studying ghosts, but Alicia ended up fascinated by the occultism of ghosts, more metaphysical than scientific. Maddie, wanting to support the sister that was supporting her, found Constantine, introduced the two, and they got along enough to bang.

it was a shotgun wedding. Alicia got pregnant and damn if she was going to let her baby be born without a father, so John ends up marrying her. He doesn't really mind since Alicia's nice enough and the sex is good, but he isn't exactly an attentive husband.

The baby is actually twins! a boy and a girl.

The babies are born without complications, but the baby boy, the first born... goes missing.

In addition to selling his soul to multiple parties, John had also sold the soul of his first born... probably to multiple parties. And he'd forgotten all about it until Alicia calls him, sobbing, saying their son has gone missing.

Needless to say, once she knows, John is divorced within the week.

the newborn daughter is given to Maddie to take care of; Alicia can even look at her without remembering her dead son, she knows she wouldn't be able to take care of a baby the way it needs. she can barely take care of herself.

(Jazz finds out that her aunt is her biomom when Danny is born. She never hates her aunt for giving her up; in fact, it's Alicia's depression and grief that makes Jazz want to study psychology in the first place)

Alicia moves to Spittoon to isolate herself, but the close knit community won't let her self-destruct. They help her rebuild herself in the middle of nowhere and she discovers a love for farming rhubarb.

John only shows up once before for Alicia's help, but the town chases away that nasty ex-husband of hers before she sees him, with his yuppie-accent and dirty clothes. They don't want him around her.

Alicia grows content with her life. She keeps all her occult books locked in the attic, out of sight and out of mind, and while she might regret not having been able to raise her daughter, she loves her niece and nephew and spoils them when they come to visit.

All's right in the world.

Until one day, Jazz and Danny come to her door in the middle of the night, desperate and injured.

Not too long after that, her yuppie ex-husband come around, asking her to look over some nonsense summoning circle. What's Constantine trying to summon anyway, the demon of astrology!?

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom crossover #dc crossover #c: john constantine #c: danny fenton #c: aunt alicia #c: jazz fenton #child death cw #child abandonment cw #totally understandable child abandonment but still #alicia was not in a good place after demons took her son #danny phantom is the ghost king #making jazz their kid seemed natural #since a blond and a redhead making a ginger seems more possible than a black haired and an auburn making a ginger #maybe vlad knows? and that's why he's not as interested in jazz #he seems like the type to think adopted kids aren't as important as blood kids #which is ironic considering him and danny

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lxvvie · 2 months

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His husky frame atop yours should've felt warm. Comforting. A salve to soothe your broken heart and under different circumstances, it would be.

But it wasn't. Not for him and certainly not for you.

And so you two danced a passionless dance. Together.

And amid it all, you wondered what could have been had he lived and you were brave enough to admit your feelings... and your failings. You wondered what he'd think of you now, legs wrapped tight around his Lieutenant's waist, clutching broad shoulders for dear life and you could laugh. Almost.

If you weren't moaning, panting, and drowning in your orgasm and heartbreak, sweating each other's sweat and kissing each other's desperation.

And fuck, you could almost laugh at the misery of it all. Almost.

Excerpt, Dead Hearts Talk

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unclefathersantateddy · 5 months

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Celebrating Henry Kissinger's death with this iconic black, trans queen! Ensuring that Kissinger is truly turning in his grave🥳 it's party time people!

#bobs burgers #bob's burgers #bobs burgers fanart #bobs burgers art #bb marshmallow #lgbt #blm #trans pride #black pride #jari jones #henry kissinger #cw death??

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j0celynh0rr0r · 11 days

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Heavy Metal Massacre

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cutedice · 1 year

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i could have a headcannon on the monster + ace trio with a s/o who died in the battle and when they come back in boat their kid comes up and says "where's mommy?? she said we'll be playing dolls when she comes back !!☹️"

((ooooh this one hurt. Thanks for requestin!!))

Telling Your Kid You're Gone

Characters: Warnings: Death (reader dies), angst, mentions of violence

Fem!Reader, Feminine Titles used "mama, mom, etc..."

LUFFY

- He watched it happen.

- He watched the bastard that killed you commit the crime.

- And he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

- It was devastating. Flashes of other people he loved vanishing just out of reach filled his head. Sudden grief filled his heart, and he couldn’t hold back the brutal beating the guy had coming.

- He held your dead body for a while and made sure you had a burial. He wasn’t going just to leave you. He wanted to give you a proper one at sea, something beautiful.

- He brought you back with him and Franky was quick to start setting something up while Chopper and Robin prepped you.

- He went off to do his own important task. He finds your daughter in the kitchen doodling at the table and singing.

- She does look a lot like you when he looks at her.

- She looks over, excited for a moment before she pouts. “Aw it’s just daddy,” she stuck her tongue out. “I want mommy! Where’s she?”

- Luffy chuckled, walking over and pinching her cheeks. “Am I not good enough?” he asked her, pulling as she whine in annoyance. He stopped shortly after though and crouched down. Tears were already building in his eyes. And, he’s never been subtle, but he almost wants to try for her.

- Still, he tries to speak. Once, then twice, and finally he pulls her into his arms. “I’m sorry,” he says, still smiling just a bit, “(Y/N)’s gone away. She won’t be back.”

- The girl doesn’t mind the hug, but she leans back to take Luffy’s face into her tiny hands. “Quit crying! I don’t like crying!” she exclaimed.

- “It’s okay to cry,” Luffy argued as she stretched his face in revenge for the earlier treatment. “I just miss her a lot!”

- Your daughter nods and huffs. “I miss mommy too!” she decided with another nod before she squeezed Luffy tight. “Is she really nod gonna come back? Not even to visit?”

- It broke his heart to tell her no.

ZORO

- Damn.

- He sat on the ground, covered in blood, next to your motionless body.

- You looked so peaceful and content.

- He was all for going out in battle, so the fact you died fighting until the end made him unbelievably happy in one way.

- It also left him feeling empty and lost.

- ‘More than usual?’

- He could imagine you saying something like that, and it almost made him laugh.

- He cried a handful of times in his life, and he swore he wouldn’t ever again after the fight with Mihawk. But tears just kept falling against his will.

- So, he sat. Silently crying and deeply wounded.

- He eventually called the others with him over once the tears had finished and his aching heart settled for the time. They helped him give you a proper burial, something quick, but it meant a lot to him.

- Once he returned to the ship, he headed for the library in search of his daughter. Robin was left in charge, and he figured that’d be his best bet in locating her.

- He asked Robin to leave, which she did after a moment, patting Zoro on the shoulder before she gave them privacy.

- “Dad?” your daughter asked, looking at him curiously.

- “Hey,” he greeted, walking over and patting her head before he sat down with a small sigh. “I’ve got some news.”

- He told her honestly what happened, sugarcoating a few things, but he let her know about you and your brave sacrifice. And he was there for her as she cried into him.

- If anything, he was happy she was still alive. He would give anything to keep her from experiencing that loss again, as she became his world as they lost you.

SANJI

- “(Y/N)!”

- He screamed your name. He watched the sword go through you in complete terror.

- It all happened so fast, yet so slowly. The battlefield felt frozen at the moment.

- He moved fast, kicking the man away that dared to hurt you. No one even saw where he went. For all they knew, Sanji kicked him hard enough to make him disappear.

- That didn’t matter to the cook, though, not when he cradled your face in his hands and tried to get Chopper or anyone to help.

- But it was ultimately too late. You passed in moments, whispering your last words before going limp.

- He was so full of grief immediately. The battle continued behind him while he mourned before he got up to help finish. And, when it was all done, the strawhats around helped put you to rest before they escorted Sanji back to the ship.

- He didn’t blame you or anyone on board, though he wanted to push it somewhere. He blamed himself in that steed, for being too slow, for not being strong enough. He blamed the stupid murderer as well and the gull of him harming you.

- He dismissed himself from the group once they returned to the Sunny, and he quickly ran off to locate his daughter.

- He found her in the men’s cabin with Brook, the two playing dolls together. Brook could recognize the aura surrounding the chef, so he left the two alone.

- “Papa! Are you and Mama gonna play with me now?” she asked, holding up a doll towards him.

- Sanji had to fight back tears, leaning down to brush her hair out of her face before cradling it much as he did yours. “No bugs. Mama won’t be able to play.”

- He carefully broke the news to her, holding her tightly as she cried into him. He cried with her, soothing her to the best of his abilities as well.

- “It’ll be okay. I’m here, I’m here…”

ACE

- Needless to say, he was not okay when it happened. Not in the least.

- He already struggled daily with his own worth, but losing one of the only people who made him feel worth loving hit him hard.

- The whitebeards were big on getting back at those who hurt their family, and given the fact you were not only his partner but the mother of his child, he was going to murder whoever dared hurt you personally.

- His flames were hotter than ever, and the battle was over in minutes. He was left for a minute, cold despite the heat and afraid of heading back to the ship without you. But he did. He forced himself to walk to the ship and board.

- He felt like time was slow, and his reactions were late. He also felt suddenly as though he were a burden, like a curse that wasn’t worth living.

- That was until he felt a hand tug on his. He looked down, and for a moment, he saw you. But then he noticed freckles and curious eyes, and he smiled tiredly. “Hey, Sweety.”

- “Pops said you were sad!” she declared, and she had this determined tone in her voice that ace would typically adore, but now he was just too beat to acknowledge it with anything but a sad hum. Which ultimately confirmed her suspicion.

- She reached up, and Ace lifted her without complaint. She leaned in to wrap her arms around his neck, hugging him. “They said Mama’s gone,” she mumbled. “Is she really?”

- Ace’s breath hitched. She was clever, and he knew she could handle the truth, but that fact also hurt him in a way. He put a hand on the back of her head, gently patting her. “Yes… Yeah, it’s true,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, trying to hold back a sob.

- But, to his surprise, she pulled back. And, with the strength of a child raised by pirates, she squeezed his face and looked at him sternly through her own tears. “Mama was strong! We gotta be strong for Mama,” she nodded and patted his cheeks. “Okay? Strong for Mama!”

- Ace stared at her, his tears falling, and he smiled a bit. “Right. We’ve gotta be strong for her.”

- It wasn’t much, but at that moment, he decided he’d live for her. He was sure that you’d want that for him, and he grieved hard, and sometimes it was… terrible. But, he kept going for her.

#tw death #cw death #monkey d. luffy #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #portgas d ace #ace x reader #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece #x reader headcanons

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cinamun · 1 year

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Previous | Next

Dear readers,

The remainder of this update, the finale to Chapter 21, is under the cut. Please read the tags and do not click unless it is safe for you to do so.

#ts4 #indya #tw death #cw death #tw depression #tw suicide #black simblr #ts4 story #sims 4 story #simblr #ch21

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lumosinlove · 4 months

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Christmas Eve Will Find Me

(cw in tags if you wish)

Five: Sirius

Athens, Greece

Sirius wasn’t reckless. He thought before he did—probably too much sometimes. He kept himself in line. Maybe it was a product of a strict upbringing. A smack on the cheek or hand at one wrong move. He used to think it was what made him so good for the agency. Salazar liked strict. They liked obedient. James, therefore, hadn’t quite made sense to Sirius as a candidate, at least not in the beginning. Not until he showed Sirius that it wasn’t just about following orders. It was about heart, too. Camaraderie. Remus had shown him that, too. Still, Sirius couldn’t always shake that rule-following kid.

But if Remus was on the rooftops getting shot at by Jack Archer, who had just been holding a gun to Logan and Finn’s heads, all bets were off.

Jack was smart though. He took Sirius right through the now bustling Christmas market. Small children strapped the the chests of fathers. Women in groups laughing and catching up over coffee. Carolers by a central fountain. Sirius caught glimpses of alarmed eyes as he ran, always keeping the back of Jack’s head just in sight. He tried not to add to the mess on the street, narrowly avoiding the cart Jack had carelessly rolled into his path. He sprinted past the pissed vendor. He knew he should hide his gun. Lights blurred beside him and the sun came out from behind a cloud, then went again. His feet pounded the pavement. The streets narrowed. Jack stumbled on the stones in front of a cafe, sending cups shattering to the cobblestones and making a shop owner run out and shout at him. For a second, Sirius thought he was going to catch up. He swiped forward at the fabric of Jack’s shirt, but Jack rolled and then was up on his feet again. Sirius lunged. He didn’t care who was watching. He didn’t care if they saw his gun. His arms wrapped around Jack’s waist and they both hit the cobblestones hard, rolling into another table. Sirius felt something hot splash against his neck, something sharp dig into the skin of his wrist.

Jack was up again in a moment, using a hard kick to Sirius’ ribs to knock the wind out of him. Sirius gasped, coughing as he scrambled up from the ground and away from the alarmed onlookers. He yanked the shard of ceramic out of his arm. Jack slipped around a bend in the street—but this was one Sirius recognized. He’d chased Remus—or the ghost of Remus—right into this corner.

When he held his gun up on Jack, Jack’s hands were around the bars of the very gate Sirius had run into their first day here.

“Dead end, Archer,” Sirius said. “Now tell me why you’re here.”

Jack at least knew when he’d been caught. His shoulders moved quickly, breathing hard as he rested his forehead against the gate.

“Did you know?” Sirius could hardly say the words. “Did you know they were alive?”

“Sirius—”

“Get the fuck down,” Sirius said, striding closer until they were both hidden in the alleyway. He risked a glance behind him. “On your knees.”

Jack went, knocking the damp hair out of his face with a jerk of his head. Sirius could see both of their breath fogging between them. “We didn’t know. Not until Leo found Remus.”

“And you want them dead.”

Jack’s mouth formed a thin line.

Sirius didn’t have time for this. His mind kept skipping back, trying to figure out who had been shooting from the roof. RemusRemusRemus.

“Why?” Sirius asked. “Why do you want them dead? They’re our own, what changed? And I swear to God, answer me, or I’ll bring you to James.”

James was sweet. James was funny. James was relaxed and kind and easy-going.

James could also get information out of anyone. He was their top interrogator, had been since the academy. How do you do it? Sirius had once asked. Sirius had never liked seeing terrified faces up close. James had gotten a sad, faraway look on his face. I pretend they have Lily. And Harry. And then I don’t feel so guilty. I just want them to talk. I make them talk.

Jack seemed to have heard the rumors because he paled. “Listen. This is Salazar. You’re here to find them and bring them in. That’s all I’m here for, too.”

Sirius thought briefly of telling Jack about Logan’s memory, but Remus’ careful hazel eyes filled his mind. Unsure. Untrusting.

“Why pull the gun?”

Jack’s eyebrow arched. “Tremblay was holding a gun on his own husband. Who, by the way…” Jack made a scornful sound. “Should not be here.”

It was Sirius’ turn to stay silent. It was a sensible response, but that didn’t mean Sirius believed him.

“What,” Jack laughed a little. “You think we wouldn’t know?”

“I couldn’t stop him.”

“Liar.”

“That makes two of us, then,” Sirius said. “Why are you here?”

“Is he turned?” Jack asked in a hushed voice, eyes dark. “Is Lupin?”

“Turned where? By who?”

Jack shook his head slowly. “Liar.”

“I’m not.” Sirius swallowed over a dry throat. At least, not entirely. Pascal. Pascal, whoever he was.

“You don’t want to get on our bad side, Black,” Jack said. His hand twitched, maybe towards a knife, and Sirius stretched his gun forward. Jack’s smile was tight. “I think Tremblay’s enough proof of that.”

Sirius stared at him. “What the hell does that mean?”

Jack opened his mouth to answer, but stopped as though his words had frozen in his mouth. He snapped his lips shut, then a strained cough escaped. A twitch went through his body, almost like a pulse of electricity, and he sat back against his heels. Sirius hesitated, watching Jack blink fast at the cobblestones before raising his eyes to Sirius.

“Who the hell are you?” Jack asked, eyes darting between the two guns. He scrambled backwards, the gate rattling when it hit his back. “What the hell?”

Sirius froze. He clicked the safety off on his own gun. “Don’t bullshit me, Archer.”

Jack blinked at him, eyes unfocused. “I…”

Another twitch, a strange pulse through his body. Jack gasped. A thin trickle of blood ran from his nose. He swayed where he was, and his hands went to his head. “Ah—” Sirius watched his face screw up in pain. Jack stared up at him. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Jack—” Sirius began to say, but then Jack fell against the pavement, as suddenly as if someone had pushed him, with a harsh thud.

Sirius felt something cold squeeze around his throat. Dread, maybe. Adrenaline. Slowly, he lowered the guns, tucking one into his belt and swinging the other behind him, doing a quick scan of what little of the street he could see. He raised it up towards the roofs, then crouched in front of Jack.

His eyes were open, lips parted, blood quickly drying on his skin. He was dead.

“Jesus,” Sirius whispered. “Jesus, fuck—” His hand went for his radio, and then he paused. It was Salazar’s radio.

If anyone had told Sirius just a week ago that that would make him pause, he would have laughed.

Sirius checked Jack’s pulse—nothing—and then cursed as he heaved his body up against the wall as best he could. There was no point in trying to move him, not with the city waking up. Someone would have to find him like this. Sirius turned Jack’s collar up, closed his eyes, and took the wires off of him. He took his knives—all the ones he could feel anyway—and the second, small gun he found tucked into his boot.

He walked in the opposite direction of the cafes, towards the still mostly sleeping residential streets. There had been no blood, not that much anyway, but Sirius checked his hands and front before calling out to a man sweeping the steps in front of his house with a cigarette between his teeth.

The man didn’t put up much of a fight, just handed Sirius his cellphone before waving him off and going back to the chore.

The line picked up immediately.

“Lion den,” Sirius said into the tone. It was their secure line. If Salazar knew about it, they’d be dead, but Finn’s tracker wasn’t the first illegal backup Leo had set up. James hadn’t seen the point, hadn’t seen what they’d ever have to hide any comms, but Leo had insisted. Now, Sirius was glad. After Archer and Remus and Logan, he didn’t know who to trust. A headache was building at the back of his skull.

“We’re not at the house,” Leo said instead of hello. “After Archer, I didn’t think we should go back there.”

“He’s dead,” Sirius said.

He heard Leo’s sharp inhale. “Sirius—”

“It wasn’t me,” Sirius said. “We were running, I got him. And then he didn’t recognize me all of a sudden. A minute later, he was dead.”

Sirius’ heart was going so hard he had to press a hand there. The sweeping man didn’t even look up. The gray light hurt his eyes.

“Where are you?” Sirius asked. “Leo. Are you all together?”

“He’s dead?” Leo asked. “But—how? And what do you mean he didn’t recognize you?”

“I don’t know, I thought he was fucking with me, because maybe he knew Logan—but how would he know Logan couldn’t remember? I…” Sirius pressed at his eyes. It was as though someone was shining a spotlight right in his eyes. It ached. “I don’t know, Le. Where are you? Where are you?”

“Sirius,” Leo said. “I can’t find—I can’t find you.”

“What?”

“I can’t find you—Jesus, here, I’m dropping this number our coordinates—but Sirius, your tracker’s offline.”

Sirius felt the phone vibrate with the incoming text. He looked, memorizing quickly. It would disappear entirely in a minute, erasing itself.

“He didn’t recognize you?” Leo asked. “He didn’t…”

“Leo,” Sirius said, and then dropped to a knee. God, his very bones ached. His skull.

“Oh God,” Leo said faintly, and then, a little farther away from the phone, he shouted. “James!”

Sirius ducked away from the gray light. The cold wind. His head was killing him. “Fuck.”

“Eh!” The man stopped sweeping, looking at him. He said something fast in Greek, but Sirius was hopeless to translate just then.

“Sirius,” Leo said, voice closer now. “You’re tracker. Cut it out right now.”

“What?” Sirius asked.

“Cut out your tracker right now,” Leo shouted. “You said Jack forgot and then he was dead, there’s nothing that would cause that except—” Leo cut off with a short cry.

“Leo?” Sirius said.

He heard Finn’s voice in the background. Leo! Oh my God—

Then Leo’s. Cut it out, Finn. Right there, remember, feel it? Finn, stop fucking staring, do it, do it, it’s going to kill me and James—

“Finish?” the man asked him, alarmed. He was holding out his hand for his phone, but didn’t look like he wanted to get much closer to Sirius. “Hey, finish? Finish?”

“Help,” Sirius said. “Please—” He pulled the Greek out but he didn’t know how. Autopilot, maybe. “Sir, please may I use your bathroom? It’s life or death.”

The man began to shake his head, but Sirius didn’t have time—he shouldn’t have even asked. The man shouted as Sirius hauled himself up and stumbled past him. He shouldered through the small, wooden door and found himself in a living room—tidy and smelling of cinnamon and coffee. It connected right with the kitchen, not unlike their safe house. The dim lamp by the sofa stung his eyes, glaring as if it were a sun. Sirius blinked hard, looking for something sharp, anything.

“Hey!” The man tried to grab his shoulder, but Sirius shook him off easily. There was a knife, small, laying beside a sliced lemon. Sirius grabbed it and all but fell against the sink. A small vase on the window sill above slipped and shattered into the basin.

The man’s protests was no more than a ringing in Sirius’ ear as he groped at the back of his own neck. What the hell are you doing? Are you insane? Are you sick? Hey, my wife and children will be back soon, come on, brother, don’t scare them. Put the knife down, put the knife down—

There. Sirius felt the bump. Was he imagining that it was hot to the touch? It didn’t matter.

He didn’t even feel the pain of the blade. His adrenaline was so high that it felt like nothing at all. Butter. A slip. Only the red on his hands let him know that he had succeeded. That, and the small, pill-like chip clutched between his fingers.

The pain evaporated and Sirius drew in a ragged breath.

No sooner had he dropped the tracker into the sink than did it let out a high-pitched sound and crack itself in half.

His hearing returned. He blinked his vision back to normal. He worked the pressure out of his jaw. The tracker released a thin trail of smoke.

Sirius, he tested. Sirius Black. He knew himself. He knew the coordinates.

When he turned, breathing hard and sweating, he grabbed an old, dirty looking cloth and pressed it to his neck. It didn’t look like anyone would miss it. The man was simply staring at him, eyes darting between his face and the device in the sink.

“Thank you.” Sirius breathed the words out. Greek, or at least half way there. “I am sorry. I am sorry.”

Without another word, Sirius raced out the door.

+++

The coordinates were an abandoned building right on the coast. Sirius could smell the salt. The cold air was made colder by damp. He had stopped the bleeding of his neck and turned up his collar to keep the rag in place. Everything felt wet and slippery now. Recent rain on the rocks beneath his feet as he walked up an old pathway.

There was nothing inside, it was merely a somewhat reasonable roof of their heads. Shelter, nothing more. Just broken down boards and stone walls now.

To anyone else, it looked empty.

Sirius whistled two notes.

Two notes returned from his left where the sea and horizon bled into each other, framed by a still standing window. It could have been a painting. A TV.

James appeared in front of it, wild hair haloed by the light.

“Fuck,” James said, and then they were hugging. Sirius face ended up near a slightly pink bandage on James’ neck, and he sighed his relief all over again.

“Fuck me, we had a bomb in our head the whole time, Si.” James reached up and brushed the bandage with light fingers. “Just an average day on the job.” His eyes went to Sirius’ neck. “What did you do it with?”

“Fucking kitchen knife, man. You?”

James’ laugh was shaky. “One of my daggers on Leo and I. Finn did it. Think he’s a little freaked, but he did it.”

“Oh Jesus, I should have…” Sirius shook his head. He had his own and he had Jack’s. “Didn’t have to traumatize this…God, never mind. I fucking broke into someone’s house.”

James laughed again, but he looked pale. “It’ll be fine. I was so scared I didn’t even feel it.”

“Same.”

James raised his eyebrows. “Jack?”

“I left him,” Sirius said. “Took everything off him. People will think…I don’t know. But there’s nothing to lead back to Salazar or us.”

James nodded, taking that in. “Salazar’ll be looking for us now that they can’t find us.”

Sirius nodded. “I know… I know they will. We have to move.” They began walking towards the sea window. “How did you end up here? Where are the others?”

“Finn and Leo are with Logan.”

Logan. God, Sirius hadn’t forgotten, of course he hadn’t forgotten, but what a strange thing to hear. After all these months, just a simple Finn and Leo are with Logan.

No sooner had James said it than did the Leo appear. He had an identical bandage to James and held one out to Sirius, along with an alcohol packet.

“Clean that,” Leo said.

Sirius tossed the bloody rag away. “Did yours smoke, too?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “The second I started to get a headache—Finn said that’s what happened to Logan, too. Said he fell down in pain. But…” Leo frowned in the way he did when he was thinking something over, when something was so entirely perplexing to him that he was sure to pull an all nighter. Sirius had seen him many times after those. Blond hair a mess, coffee mugs lined up besides the water and the electrolyte packets.

“Where…” Sirius began to say. He’d only gotten a glimpse of Logan and it was beginning to feel more like a dream. His slack face. There had been blood? Hadn’t there?

Leo moved aside, revealing a half-collapsed hallway. No, it was more like an nave. Sirius looked up and realized that the remnant of a vaulted ceiling remained, stone and precarious. This had been a church.

Wind whistled through, a high note off the sea, when Sirius saw them. Finn and Logan were at the other end, a corner mostly intact and protected from the cold. Finn was awake, staring down at Logan’s face like he couldn’t stand to look away, not even for a moment. Logan was—asleep?

“Knocked out.” Leo filled in his thoughts. “Finn said he remembered him in the alley, but he’s been out ever since.”

“And his tracker?”

“It’s gone,” Leo said. “I checked.”

“But if Salazar wanted him dead…”

Leo nodded, already there. “Then whoever took it out probably saved his life."

“But he can’t remember us,” Sirius said.

Leo rubbed a hand through his hair, then pressed his fingers to his mouth, thinking. There was blood beneath his nails still, a crust of red even smeared along his jaw. Sirius had the sudden urge to wipe it away for him.

“You said Jack forgot who you were a second before he was killed,” Leo said. “I’m guessing—and this is only a guess—that this is some sort of…kill code put into place in Salazar’s tracker hardware. A memory wipe in case we get captured, and then a kill switch if there’s no hope or if we might crack and tell all.”

“Jesus,” James whispered.

“I’m guessing whoever took out Logan’s didn’t do it in time to prevent the memory wipe. And that’s calling it real close, I don’t know…”

Remus. Sirius could hardly breathe. If he hadn’t seen that footage for himself, he’d be on his knees all over again, desperate and afraid.

“Can you reverse it?” James asked. He was chewing on a thumbnail, looking down the hall. “God, please say you can Leo.”

Leo let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know.” He looked down the stone archways towards Finn. As the three of them watched, Finn reached out a hand and brushed Logan’s hair back from his eyes gently. “I don’t know.”

#cw: minor character death #cw: blood/wound mention #Christmas Eve will find me Lumosinlove #winterfic lumosinlove 2023 #wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #amnesia au #spy au #ficmas #Leo knut #finn o'hara #Logan tremblay #o'knutzy #finnlo #lelo #lionfish #sunfish

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blinkpen · 4 months

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as requested: mutates a terribly boring character the narrative is SCREAMING at me to finding sploosh-inducingly charming on the basis of Evil Is Sexy and literally nothing else by injecting him with secret cringefail loser genes

i did not put much effort into visual changes bc that'd be a waste of my own creativity, but i did a lil sumn at least. i spent less than 30 minutes total brainstorming a new baseline concept for whatever his deal is supposed to be and drawing this.

#but instead we get 'my eldritch voodoo w-ndigo cannibal serial killer dealmaking christian hell demon is so cool and strong'#everyone is so scared of him and you should think he's the biggest badass and want to fuck him and buy aaalllll the merch'#'question: if he's doing voodoo why is he a pasty silky-haired ginger'#'uuuuuuuuuuuui decided he is part black now to deflect all criticism he's just white passing and ashy'#'well that doesnt cover the w-ndigo thing but are you going to change his design at all to reflect this or hire a black va for him?'#'ew why would i do that'#'...yeah. right. why would you. -sigh- and the w-ndigo thing?'#'hmmmmmi'm just going to pretend i can't hear you talking now'#blood cw #hazbin cw #death cw

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mangaxyz · 1 year

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Jujutsu Kaisen

Ch. 11 - 4

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #death cw #manga #shonen jump #black and white #art #manga screencap #monochrome #manga panel #manga art #manga caps #manga and stuff #manga series #manga edit #shonen #shounen #shounen manga #shonen manga

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lulublack90 · 4 days

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Prompt 21 - Dystopian AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 21, word count 979

CW- Death by gunshot

The Earth was dead. Nothing grew apart from genetically modified mushrooms. The planet’s water was so toxic it had to be run through filters repeatedly to make it even halfway drinkable. The once beautiful green country Sirius lived in was now brown.

The HOB owned everything. They owned the food, water, phones, housing, and vehicles. Whatever you could buy. Somehow, it all led back to The HOB.

Sirius lived in an old block of flats that had been converted to house hundreds of occupants. His room was a small pod. It was barely tall enough for him to sit up in. He did, however, have a shelf, which most people would kill for. It’s the little things in life.

Most of the Earth's inhabitants, at least those with money, had bought passage on the gigantic space cruisers. They were cities in the skies, set to blast off into outer space to protect the elite from the Earth’s final days.

Sirius had helped to build these beasts, but apparently, he wasn’t good enough to be part of the crew. So he spent most of his time in a local garage helping to fix the vehicles of the same posh prats that would be leaving.

One such vehicle had an issue that took him the entire day to sort out. He pulled out a stack of paper real-life paper from the air filter box. The customer brushed him off when he came for the vehicle, and Sirius was left with the papers.

That night, he pored through the papers. He didn’t understand half of it, but he understood enough to know this was important. Sirius decided he needed to show a friend of his what he’d found.

“It’s, it’s, it’s amazing. Sirius, The HOB, has been hiding this from everyone. It’s not too late to save the Earth!” Marlene exclaimed as she typed some complicated equations into her computer.

The door burst open, and armed guards flooded into the small space. They raised their guns and shot Marlene before she could even open her mouth. Sirius ran.

He didn’t know how he got out of that room, but if he had to guess, they probably hadn’t expected him to move.

Sirius had always been fast, and he used the adrenaline coursing through his veins to run as fast as he could. The men were right behind him, though. He dashed around a corner and found himself on the airfield with the space cruisers.

He raced towards the nearest one and, with the knowledge only someone who’d helped build one, opened a secret hatch in its belly and wiggled into the cramped space.

He gulped in air as he tried to catch his breath. The hull was so dense. He had no idea if the men were still there. He’d have to leave it for a few hours at least before he tried to escape.

With the adrenaline wearing off and nothing but his thoughts to keep him company, he let the misery of Marlene’s death wash over him and focused on how it was his fault she was gone. The tears that fell from his eyes were thick and hot. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cried.

Suddenly, a horrendous booming rumble blasted his eardrums. It took him precious moments to realise the ship was about to launch. He tried in vain to open the hatch, but once the engines were engaged, all external doorways were locked down.

The noise got louder, and he screamed as his eardrums tried hopelessly to block out the noise. He crushed his fists to them and felt the ship begin to rise.

The booming got worse, and he was crushed into the floor as the behemoth gained speed. He felt his bones rattling and shaking as the ship fought against the Earth’s gravitational pull.

After what felt like an eternity, everything stopped. He knew there would be the gentle thrum of the engines if his ears could actually pick up sounds anymore and that the ship wouldn’t feel like it was moving at all if his body wasn’t still trembling.

He reached his hand above him and unlocked the internal hatch above him. He dragged himself up into the corridor. It was made for crew and never meant to be seen by the paying passengers. He wandered along it, having no idea what he was going to do. He didn’t have permission to be here, and he didn’t put it past some of the employees on here not to just expel him into the void.

His ears popped as he walked down another corridor, and he regained some of his hearing just in time to catch the sound of boots walking towards the next bend ahead of him. He flew through the door beside him and waited for the footsteps to disappear.

Sirius glanced around the room he was in. It appeared to be sleeping quarters, and compared to his tiny pod, it was huge. Two full-sized beds, built into the wall in bunks, a door that probably led to a washroom and two sets of drawers.

Before he could plan his next move, the washroom door opened, and a tall shirtless man wrapped only in a towel, with beads of water running down his chest, walked out into the room.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t think I had a bunkmate.” He reached out a hand. “I’m Remus.” Sirius tentatively took it and shook it.

“Sirius,” He introduced himself.

“Well, hello, Sirius. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sirius forgot all about the previous hours of his life. He’d have to find a way back to Earth and figure out a way to get the information out that would save it so that Marlene’s death wouldn’t be meaningless. But right now, all he cared about was the man with the honey eyes beaming at him.

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justadeadreaper · 4 months

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CW: Gore, Death, Puke, Decaying flesh, Buboes, Blood, Description of the symptoms of the different plagues in The Black Death, Gruesome description of how the representation would look like, Please tell me if anything that should be put as a warning was not, thanks.

The most feared plague in history, The Black Death.

Mainly the bubonic plague mixed with its two more deadly brothers the pneumonic plague and septicemic plague. It was the deadliest plague of the time as it ran through Europe, Africa, and Asia and conquered any village, town, and city it found itself in, flooding the streets with blood, mucus, and rotted flesh as once healthy humans dropped dead from the plague that seemed to come from nowhere before it dragged everyone to the Hell it had seemed to have spawned from. It did not care who you were, it did not discriminate, rich or poor, loved or hated, known or not, it would blow out the little life that you had. It thrived off the fear and only seemed to grow stronger as another soul joined the long chain of victims that had already succumbed to the disease. Anywhere from twenty to sixty percent of the population of the time was taken by it.

The perpetrator? Yersinia pestis. The carriers? Fleas. The spreader? Rats but some say it could have actually been hamsters that were stowaways. But how were the rats able to spread? Trading ships that jumped from town to town leaving a deadly gift as it sailed away that would lead to the death of all that were unfortunate enough to live there.

Now you may ask what would happen if you were to catch it and let me tell you it was living torture. It would start with a simple flea bite but that flea was infected with Yersinia pestis causing it to build a barrier in its stomach so no blood could be digested or go into its stomach causing it to build up and be infected by the bacteria, and this blood would be thrown back up by the flea onto the wound infecting it as it would be absorbed into the bloodstream. From entering the bloodstream it could take one of three routes: the lymphatic system, continuing through the bloodstream, or directly to the lungs. If you were lucky enough for it to infect your lymphatic system then you had a sixty percent chance of dying meaning you had a forty percent chance of surviving. Even though you had more chances of surviving it did not mean that you were saved from not suffering, from one to seven, or if you were lucky eight, days of contracting the disease was when it would show symptoms. At first it would trick you into the false belief that you only had the flu. You would have a general feeling of being ill, lethargic and weak which only grew into worse fatigue as the days went on, followed by chills and a high fever which anyone would know just seems to be like a normal cold but then that soon developed into muscle cramps in your aching limbs as seizures overtook the body. Then it would present the symptom that gave it the name the bubonic plague, buboes. These were when the lymph nodes would balloon to become large, painful, smoothe swellings which would occur near the original area of infection alongside the groin, neck, and armpits which would continue to grow until they burst. You also had the issue of your skin slowly beginning to necrotise as it died alongside the lenticulae which were small black dots that would be scattered across your body and gangrene took over your lips, nose, toes, and fingers which all caused severe pain to the point you would rather die there and then instead of waiting it out to see if you had the lucky chance of surviving. Of course there were other symptoms like heavy breathing as your lungs felt like they were being held down by rocks, your own body becoming like the flea as it would start to vomit gallons of infected blood, coughing, gastrointestinal problems, and spleen inflammation, but in some cases even the sleep would be disturbed to the point of insomnia where sleep would be impossible to get as your were forced to stay awake to feel all the pain that riddled your body. But then the worst of the systems came at the final stage as delirium came and took over any rational thought as all organs began to fail from the disease overcoming them and causing them to shut down which only led to a coma, but it all ended the same way, death.

If you were unlucky enough for it to infect your lungs first or just infect your lungs before the other systems became worse then you had a ninety-five percent chance of dying meaning you had a five percent chance of surviving. To make the pneumonic plague even worse you could develop it even after being infected by either the bubonic plague or the septicemic plague; it could also be caught from not just it infecting your lungs after a bite which infected the bloodstream but by also breathing in air borne droplets of the bacteria from another thing that was riddled with the plague. As it would normally be caught after having bubonic or septicemic plague it meant that at first you would present all the symptoms from the other plagues before experiencing the specifics of the pneumonic plague. At first you would think you have a fever but a severe one as headaches, nausea, and weakness run rampant as if it was trying to warn you that this would be no normal bubonic or septicemic plague. Luckily compared to the bubonic plague the time you would suffer with this plague was a great short, even though it would take around three to seven days before the symptoms showed as soon as the symptoms worsened or even showed you could guarantee that you would be dead within thirty-six hours, most likely less. You would be constantly vomiting for three days straight as your lungs slowly began to feel as if they were being sewn shut at each bronchus, only leading to each breath becoming shorter and shorter as you seemed to constantly be coughing and rasping for the tiniest bit of unrestrained air. Then soon enough your lungs would spew out a bloody and watery mess that would stain your tongue with its mercury taste which you would continue to cough out in between the vomiting until you went into shock as your full respiratory tract went into failure and just stopped, finally leading to death.

But if you were the most unfortunate person alive on Earth at the time that every God seemed to hate since it stayed in your bloodstream and completely infected your blood it meant you had no chance of surviving as you had a hundred percent chance of dying. It made the other two diseases seem like child’s play as it normally only took around fourteen hours before it shut down the body, worse of all it could even kill you without showing any of the symptoms. Like the others you would think it was a common cold due to the fever, chills, and low blood pressure but soon enough severe abdominal pain would set in as it felt like you were dying due to the extreme amount of diarrhea which would be accompanied by nausea that only led to severe vomiting. But soon enough the vomit and diarrhea would be filled with blood until it was fully red as the body lost most of its clotting resources from the tiny blood clots that had formed throughout the body so it could no longer control the blood which started to bleed into the skin and organs creating red or black patches of rashes or bumps which could be seen on the skin. The blood clotting also caused necrosis as tissue and organs would die from the lack of blood flow as it all leaked into where it should not, the most obvious spots of the decay were the gangrene in the fingers, nose, and toes. Then the bleeding would extend from not just bleeding in the body but blood coming out from the rectum but most noticeably the mouth and nose where it would come out like a waterfall. Obviously due to the blood leaking into everything it would cause difficulty breathing as it would fill the lungs and deprive it of the blood outside the lungs that was needed to exchange the carbon dioxide for oxygen. And with no blood to deliver the oxygen needed for the organs to live they all would go into organ failure causing the body to go into shock before the final moments where everything went back as it was taken over by death.

As it can be seen all of them had the same outcome, death.

Luckily nowadays the plagues are a simple pest if the person has access to treatment to stop it from progressing further but at the time that The Black Death ran rampant no one had the luxury of those treatments leading most to die who caught it. Masses upon masses of bodies continued to build up only attracting more of the rats then the ones that had already been attracted to the large towns by the excrement and rotting butcher’s meat that made a river through the streets. With more rats that withered away from the disease it just meant more fleas would jump to more human hosts to use which only led to more living corpses to roam the streets as the disease turned people into skeletons while still living before turning them into an actual corpse.

It was understandable as to why humans of the time would be so scared of such a thing as to them it just seemed like their fellow mortals were dropping like lowly flies that would eat away at the flyblown flesh that continued to pile away in mass graves to create more nests for their larvae and eggs to incubate inside. Imagine the terror and fear that must have filled their minds as they did not understand pathogens at the time, to them it would have seemed like divine wrath but no one could think of a reason as to why their Almighty would betray them like this as everyone appeared to be on their best behaviour. They needed something to blame. They found something to blame.

Simple rumours turned into truths.

Somewhere in England there was said to be a village. Small, nothing of concern as it was like every other village of the time. Like every other village it had a butcher, a silent man who was rumoured to once be a knight but no one knew why he was not anymore. He tended to be quiet, avoiding others who were not his friends and family. It was said that he loved his nephew and that if he had enough swigs of barley that you could get him singing and dancing on the roof or you could convince him to give you his primest cuts of meat. He was deemed as normal, he was like everyone else, until one day.

No one knew what happened. It was supposed to be a joyous day to celebrate the coming of winter but it was far from that. Nearly the whole family was found butchered with a precision only expected to be known by a trained killer. The lower left leg and most of the fingers of the right hand of the older brother laid in a puddle of blood but they could not find the rest of his body; the mutilated body of the brother’s wife was spread around slightly from each different part as if when she was being attacked the culprit had went after another member while still holding onto the part it was hacking off; the body of their son was curled into the corner clutching onto the leg of his mother while out of the stab holes that covered his body in ten folds nearly making him unidentifiable oozed out blood into a bloody puddle that collected around his body; and finally the grandmother of the family who was found decapitated in her rocking chair with her head being found outside within the well. The only one not found dead was the butcher and when he returned, covered in blood, everyone turned their suspicions to him. When he tried to explain that he had been out hunting but had been attacked by a large grey man no one believed him, especially when they saw the crazed look within his eyes that could only be produced by when they had let Beelzebub into their soul. Everyone agreed to grab their pitchforks and chase him out so no more could be hurt.

It was only a few months before the figure started to appear across the world. People from the village murmured to other villages and beyond when they heard what the figure looked like in its earlier stage that they believed it to be the same butcher infected with the plague of Beelzebub to infect the world with their sin to bring more to Hell. Everyone believed him to be the reason for the spread of the plague. It was said that if you were to see him within the fields outside of any town, village, or city that all the inside were destined to die.

The Ghost of The Black Death.

A figure that would strike the fear into the hearts of all.

A horde of rats followed behind him in trails as flies buzzed around his head, if he was near you would always see a Black Shuck which commanded a storm alongside it as if they were his hounds of doom brought along to give the townsfolk warning of their dire fates and to pray to the Almighty while they were still apart.

A black coat hid the majority of his body as bloodied rags of old hunting gear of a peasant hung off of skeletal remains with a jaw hanging off his neck as if it was a necklace as it was tied there with rope. Messy blonde hair spread out in all directions as blood leaked out from the tear ducts in a false mockery of the tears that millions had split in their last moments. No nose or bottom jaw could be found, decayed off long ago. The face looked skeletal as teeth, gums, and a tongue were exposed to the bitter air that reeked of death and loss as the cheeks were tattered in form as more skin continued to flake off as it continued to decays; once blue eyes so full of life were left sunken, dead as if they were another victim that had succumb to the plague that the Ghost was said to bring alongside him. A trail of buboes surrounded his neck as if it was a noose to which he could hang himself with as the tail was marked by a diversion of buboes that wrapped around and under his arms to around his groyne. His spine and ribs jutted out for all to see underneath the greyed skin which was littered with blackened patches of decay as branches of red veins leaked and bleed out to leave a path of blood in his wake for all to track him by. Still, as he rotted away, vague faints of the muscular body that had been far gone from its prime lingered where it once remained. The bottom of his calves with his feet and the bottom of his forearms with his hands had turned black and mummified from the decay and gangrene that had taken them over, leaving no remaining sensations within the hands to feel the warmth of a human ever again for the rest of eternity.

If you were to see him late at night, staring into your soul you better pray that The Ghost does not turn you into another soul like him.

#plague!cod au #plague simon #plague ghost #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost simon riley #cw: gore #cw: death #cw: sickness #cw: puke #cw: decay #bubonic plague #the black death

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