#oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith

[bloodydeanwinchester]

ohhh hello this is a VERY good line

#jenna reads oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith

[devilmademewriteit]

Joel Miller & Javier Peña Headcanons (Drabbles?) Part 3!

another smutty edition<3

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, oral [both receiving], fem penetration, masturbation) so 18+ only content; afab fem reader; mentions of hair pulling; bratty!reader; violence (slapping, choking, threats); mentions of pornography; description of a panic attack; step-cest; pet names (baby, angel, sweetheart, darlin, hermosa, cariño) dubcon/non-con (age gap, power dynamics, coercion, just a bunch o’ shady shit in general imsosorry)

No use of y/n.

Hello! In honour of 2K followers (woot woot!!!) here is yet another work of absolute FILTH. These just get more and more insane idk what to do w myself. Your requests r gonna send me straight to hell. Anyways, I love u all so much. Don’t forget to join the taglist, you can find the other drabbles on my masterlist, & part 3 of Salvatore coming soon!

-em<3

—

Javi loves when you take charge—God, it just makes him laugh. He watches you, faithful that you’re in control while you ride him, fingers coiling weakly around his neck. “Gonna come for me, Peña?” He lets your imagination run wild until he grows impatient, sitting up to crush you between his arms, fucking up into you at his signature brutal pace. “Where’s all that tough talk now, hermosa?” He sounds so soft, so gentle compared to the thrust of his hips—snapping to bruise against the supple skin of your thighs. You never know how he manages to last so long, only that by the time his hot seed is leaking down between your legs, you’re barely conscious, barely human, and squirming away from those fingers—that cock—stealing non-stop orgasms from your core. He’s only satisfied once you’re reduced to his personal little plaything.

“Where you goin’, baby? I’m not fuckin’ done with you.”

Stepdad!Joel catching you and your boyfriend messing around in your bedroom; “Get out,” he growls, holding the door open as the young man scurries out, averting Miller’s violent gaze with his own downcast, darting eyes, hurriedly tucking himself back into his pants. Shame spreads like the wings of a Monarch across your heating cheeks. “Joel—I—” but he’s already too close, shaking his head in disappointment as he unhooks the buckle of his belt. “Didn’ think you were like that, baby…” and he’s pinning your shoulders down, covering your mouth with his calloused hand, muffling your protests to keep your little lesson private. “Pay attention, angel. F’you’re gonna act like a slut, you’re gonna get used like one, too.” Joel is huge, he stretches you far, far wider than your boyfriend ever could. When he bottoms out between your tight, silken walls, you can’t help your cry of surprise, of pain—of reluctant ecstasy. “Sshh, baby—don’t scream, don’t scream.”

“M’doin’ you a favour, see? Think you don’t fuckin’ deserve this?”

It had been ages since you’d last seen him. He’d gotten himself disciplinary leave—some shady business with an anti-Escobar group of vigilantes. But he’s back now (as your boss, no less) and so is that stupid-old-crush. And God, does he ever look good, sulking around in those navy fitted suits. Your heart had lurched when he’d recognized you—“Nice seeing a familiar face around here, ‘specially a pretty one like yours”—but working late tonight, finally on your way out the door, he commands it to a full stop when a worn-down, stressed-out Javier Peña calls you back into his office. “I-I don’t have a ride home, sir—I can’t miss the last bus,” as he dips down to brush kisses to the side of your throat, as his hands caress the valley of your waist, as he lifts you onto his desk, carelessly scattering confidential affidavits, narco-profiles, ball-point pens. “Oh, but you won’t last long, cariño—I promise,” and you believe him, because his thumb on that delicate, throbbing bud already beckons, pulls, drags you towards oblivion. Sooner or later, he would’ve had you like this—spread open on lacquered oak; thighs trembling in the cradle of his grip; fingers, helpless, tugging at his collar as his own curl inside you. You’re learning a new language: Javier’s native tongue.

“Not gonna say ‘no’ to your boss, now, are you, sweetheart?”

Slapping brat-tamer!Joel across the face after he spends hours teasing your dripping cunt; feeling him ripple with lust-soaked aggression when he finally pulls his damp cock from its drag-and-circle strokes against your clit. “Joel—fuck me, already,” and he claps the back of his hand across your cheekbone, yanks you down the mattress, settles himself to tower, cock in hand, right above your face. He wrenches your lips apart, slaps his length against your awaiting tongue—“Watch your mouth”—eyes alight with caution, irritation, warning. So, you respond, “Fuck you.” A big ol’ fist yanks you up by your hair—you know you’re being punished when he stuffs your filthy mouth oh-so-full with his length. “Yeah, fuck you too.” Every pained choke, the pressure of your hands pushing against the merciless, quick snaps of his thighs—it’s Joel Miller’s favourite kind of apology. He’s nonchalant, deceptively casual when he says it: “Nah, you don’t needa breathe—”

“—You’re gonna stop bein’ such a brat, or you’re gonna gag on an old man’s cock ‘til it fuckin’ kills y’a… whichever comes first, angel.”

On those rare nights he found himself alone, Javi liked to jack off, a glass of whiskey in his free hand. Sometimes with porn, most often without. When he did use the tapes, however, his go-to featured a dark haired man brutally fucking a girl into the dented pillows of a worn-in couch—God, she looked just like you. The real ‘you’ that was tough, incorruptible, a bit high-strung, and completely self-denying becomes a needy, cock-drunk mess at 6:12. Split wide open, taking it so rough, she whines, “You’re g’na m-make me come all—all over your c-cock.” If Javi doesn’t finish right then, he always does around the eleven minute mark, when her cheeks puff up around his fat tip, glassy eyes coming alive with that familiar, feminine devotion to male pleasure. When a forceful hand drags her lips down a long length of cock, that’s when Javi doesn’t stand a chance; he hangs off her every muffled, desperate word (and Christ, does her voice ever sound like yours): “Use me—please—use me, use me, use me.” In his twisted, sex-addled mind, he’s answering you, warm spend dripping onto thick, coiled fingers:

“I want to—fuck, wanna use every square inch of you, baby.”

The Jackson commune required all adults to take shifts patrolling the community; you’d been paired up with a far older, far more experienced, and far more… volatile partner. He rarely made conversation, but he got on with your dad, so it seemed like a good pairing, one that might teach you a thing or two—a rational decision. It wasn’t. Very quickly, you’d noticed his near tangible stares of hunger, the way his fingers clenched into white-knuckle-fists every time the weather warmed and your clothing got shorter—tighter. Soon, you’d made up your mind: you needed Joel. “Stop fuckin’ teasin’” he’d growled under the blood-orange glow of the southern sunset, grasping your flattened palm and moving it from its suggestive position on his chest, “M’not givin’ it to you.” Creeping in close, running your thumb across the sparse, silver-flecked hairs peppering his rigid jaw: “But I’ll be so good, Miller—I’ll listen, I can beg for it, too—please, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“S’exactly the problem, darlin’. Jus’ one touch n’ I’d have you doin the dirtiest things for me… Fuck, wouldn’t be able to look your old man in the eye for months.”

Bonus Fluff:

Thank God they’d managed to stop the outbreak. It had felt like the end, at first, with the government-mandated lockdowns, people hoarding toilet paper and Lysol, going stir-crazy behind closed doors. And thank God for your neighbour, Joel Miller, who’d become something like your rock throughout those terrifying weeks. He’d never been close with your emotionally distant parents (really, who was?) but you were friends with his daughter, so he’d always treated you like one of his own. Until one Friday night, when you’d fallen asleep watching TV with Sarah and woken up to the thrum of your heart pounding against your ribs, beige walls closing in tight, the beginnings of a panic attack cresting throughout your shaking body. “S’okay, s’okay,” and he’d been there, cradling you in those blue-collar arms, cooing wispy, gentle comforts into the crook of your neck. The memory was mostly haze—but you kept the ghostly caresses of his finger tips smoothing the tense muscles beneath your skin, the near-kisses he’d brushed to your forehead, throat, and cheeks, and especially his look of restraint as he’d replaced your restrictive clothes with his own oversized tee. The next morning, you’d come to in his bed, nose nestled into the crumpled folds of his black t-shirt. Heat blossomed across your cheeks as the sunrise brought realization’s dawn upon you. “You jus’ wouldn’ calm down—” Joel’s concern had overwhelmed his tone as his thumb traced the apex of your cheekbone.

“Jus’ couldn’t stand to see you so… upset, sweetheart. Holdin’ you’s the only thing that seemed to do you any good.”

It took months of dating before Javi had been willing to surrender any personal information, any vulnerable thoughts to you. Christ, just learning his father’s name had felt like cracking the Da Vinci code. Instead of talking, whenever he got sad, angry, or upset, he soothed himself by stripping you down, shoving you onto all fours or holding your mouth open between his thumb and index—either one worked just as well. Somewhere down the line, you’d learnt that splitting you open left him more inclined to open up, himself. “Why is it always rough when you’re… unhappy?” It’s a timid question, posed with your cheek laid against his shoulder. First, he asks if you really want to hear the answer. Then, he responds with his eyes closed, shy strokes up and down the length of your spine. “Guess I like the control—feel so fuckin’ out of it when shit gets to me.” You go silent, startled by his honesty. “Does it bother you?” and he sounds nervous, concerned. “No,” you say passionately, ardently. “I like knowing I can help.” Smooth and quick, Javi cups your cheeks, pulling you up to straddle him and laying a fierce kiss at the altar of your swollen lips.

“You single-handedly brought me back to life, baby. Got no fuckin’ clue how much you do for me, every damn day.”

—

TAGLIST: @millllenniawrites @pining-and-tired @inkedells @stardust-chords-enthusiast @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @bookofbee @liviloo12346 @anyas-stuff @readingsunshine97 @maudlinflowers @sullysflm @sexygaypalpatine @livyjh @s-unflowxr @lostsoldieronahill @chapterhappygirl @raeluvshammett @silkiers @jupitersmoon-cal @supernaturaldean67 @razrsharpwhiteteeth @peqchsoup @corrodedcherries @hawsx3 @monboudoir @theonewithacrush @pono-pura-vida @sallymilkweed @fruitcupsworld @mads-grace4 @ayehomo

(The rest of the tags will be in a reblog—I don’t want this post to crash b/c of the amount of tags lol).

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #joel miller x you #javier peña x you #joel miller x y/n #javier peña x y/n #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x reader #joel miller #javier peña #javier peña narcos #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #narcos #stepdad!joel miller #dbf!joel miller

[nanomooselet]

Little but Fierce III

I love Meryl so much. Imma talk about all the ways she's terrible.

First watching the show, I had her clocked pretty much from the moment she opened her mouth and the moment she first appeared on the screen.

Oh Lord. This child is insufferable.

She's twenty-three, just out of college, from a sheltered background, and determined to solve all the world's problems, but she'd have a much easier time of it if she weren't such a scold. She's prissy. She's judgemental. Because nothing in the world lives up to her standards, she's going to shout at it until it does. It's endearing now because she's so little and cute, but she will encounter someone unwilling to put up with it sooner or later, and she had better hope she survives that encounter to learn from it.

Reminder that her first appearance in the manga is striding onto the panel like a queen and then whipping out a megaphone to announce she's from the insurance society, like any of the people she's talking to have any reason to care. She's, uh. She's a real woman of conviction.

What makes this Meryl seem so young is that she still has a lot of faith in the rules, and that the way things should be is indeed the way they are. Why wouldn't she? Her family is wealthy, she just got out of school and this is her dream job. Her whole life so far has kept her cushioned from pain and consequences, as well what exists on the edge of society - violence, poverty, corruption - as well as the edges of her own reality - the truth about the Plants, the existential terror of a being like Knives, who so virulently hates her species and has the power to crush them at will, for any reason, at any time. And of a being like Vash, whose power is even greater, but whose appearance is so purposefully soft.

That dude she's yelling in the face of could vaporise the planet they're standing on, if he felt like it. He would never, but that doesn't change having that capacity, or that there are individuals who will do anything to obtain control of his power.

What makes Meryl such a fantastic character despite these flaws is that upon encountering proof of her ignorance, she doesn't double down. She's surprised, and often scared, but primarily she's saddened, or even outraged. Why is the world this way? What can she do about it? What action can she take?

That's the perfect trait for a journalist, and I also think the reason that Vash likes her - and Roberto, too. It's why both of them are determined to protect her, and Roberto comes to adopt (or perhaps reclaim) a little righteousness by her example.

She doesn't belong on No Man's Land, but then none of them do. No one wanted to be here. Nevertheless they are here.

What can they do together to make it a kinder world?

Also, one more thing.

There's an argument for how hard it is write female characters that the audience won't instantly loathe. It's called the Galbrush Problem, after a theoretical genderbend of Guybrush Threepwood from the Monkey Island series. They're point-and-click adventure games, and they're very silly - Guybrush's entire backstory, as far as we learn, is that he washed up on a beach in the Caribbean as a teenager with the burning ambition to be a pirate and no practical skills in the field whatsoever.

Sample dialogue:

Elaine: Ugh, let's face it, LeChuck! You're an evil, foul-smelling, vile, codependent villain, and that's just not what I'm looking for in a romantic relationship right now! LeChuck: Darn yer riddles, ye saucy female! What do ye mean?!

They're engaged in a high stakes sea battle at the time. Elaine is defending the port she governs from LeChuck's skeleton pirate crew. (Hauntingly realistic reaction to a woman's unambiguous rejection from LeChuck, though.)

Anyway the Galbrush Problem suggests that a Galbrush version of these games would come across as offensive, because Guybrush is a comedic protagonist. He's subjected to slapstick, mocked, rendered the butt of jokes. He says and does absolutely ridiculous things. Who'd enjoy a woman being a victim of such humiliation?

I hate the Galbrush Problem as an argument.

Because Guybrush might be hard to take seriously, but he's still loveable - he's quick-witted, charming, and his many failures combined with his unwillingness to let them ever get him down for long actually make him a little inspiring. And we don't just watch him, we embody him - we relate to him. His absurd challenges are ours to overcome and his cracking wise in the face of craziness is something we sort of wish we could do. We'll all look a bit ridiculous at least some of the time. That's not something gender specific.

It's not a problem to write a woman being goofy. Not unless you present that as her only trait, or her as the only woman, or failure as the only outcome of her actions. Meryl completely explodes the Galbrush problem by being hilarious - she and Vash get to play comedic partners pretty frequently early on and it's always great, and her stupid sibling fights with Wolfwood are splendid. It doesn't make her offensive. She's fun! We need levity! That tomas is hauling around a bunch of fricking coffins!

The wonder of Trigun as a story is that everyone in it is so gloriously, painfully human, even the ones who pretend not to be. Is there really something offensive about affording women that courtesy too? Really?

Maybe I get too pissy about it, I don't know, but I've been a fandom cryptid for some twenty years, and was once determined to enter a profession where there was straight up a conspiracy to prevent women being protagonists, or when they are protagonists, having partners or lovers, because it meant they were less appealing and available.

Lookit this silly marshmallow. What about her is unappealing? What about her is offensive? I mean, apart from the fact that at this rate she's going to give that poor man a heart attack.

Part I

Part II

Part IV

Part V

Part VI

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

#trigun stampede #trigun meta #tristampparty #meta: little but fierce #meryl stryfe #so that turned into a rant #*ahem* #madam do cease bothering the nice nuclear bomb #or don't actually i think he's into it

[writingintheshadowsforever]

Kate Bishop x Reader Not Who You Think I Am Part 7

"Take off the mask." It wasn't a command this time but a plea. Her bow still laid at her feet with her knees quaking, and her eyes blinking back tears.

Her words barely reached your ears but a gust of wind blew by carrying them to you. Along with the tone of disbelief in her voice as well. Kate was telling herself this was all just one big mistake, or better yet a nightmare. She took a hard fall somewhere between getting off the plane and heading home. You were hovering over her hospital bed right now with glistening eyes begging her to wake up. Because the reality of this situation wasn't something she could handle. Not when she just barely survived her own mother betraying her in so many ways. Not when her mother revealed her father was anything but the hero she remembered he was.

You were her person. Her safe place. Her peace.

She buried herself in your arms night after nighter shedding tears for putting her mom in jail, and every single night you had told she had done the right thing. Out of everything you were to her the most important thing was being her reassurance. But now her entire image of you was beyond destroyed as she watched. Her nemesis who she believed you needed protection from lifted the wolf mask revealing to her. The two of you were actually the same person, and you had been playing her from the start.

What else did you lie to her about? Had you been under Fisk's payroll this entire time? Why weren't you present at the events that went down during Christmas last year? Did Fisk keep you on standby so he could use you later on?

"Why?" was the only word Kate could utter in the moment before she broke. Her bow clattered to the ground along with the arrow. Her legs carried her backwards till she felt her back connect with wall next to the door. She braced herself against for support with her body left with no strength to keep her standing.

You were still positioned on the ledge with your mask sitting atop of your head. Tears cascading down your face at the sight of your beloved breaking down. "Katie please I need you to understand-"

"Understand what" she fired back cutting you back as her voice finally returned. Kate pushed off from the wall to stalk back towards you. "Understand that you have been lying to me this entire time, understand you hired your goons to kidnap Lucky to lure me in."

"That wasn't me I would never put you or Lucky in danger and you know that." You corrected her jabbing a finger at her. Anger crept into your voice as it became harder to keep the emotion at bay. Yet you couldn't help but be bothered at how easy it was for Kate to see nothing but the worst in you. Then again maybe you were foolish to put your faith in the girl who called the cops on her own mother without hearing her side of the story first.

Maybe you should just be grateful Kate was granting you that courtesy.

"Really because I can't tell y/n what do you think you're doing right now" Kate cried.

"I'm trying to tell you the truth but you won't listen."

"Oh please go on tell me the truth. Explain to me why you are working for a criminal like Wilson Fisk."

"I didn't have a choice Kate okay. It was either clean up the Tracksuits mess, or he was going to come after you. I did it to keep you safe and get him off my back for good."

Kate frowned and if it was even possible the feeling of betrayal increased tenfold. "What do you mean for good? How long have you been working with him?"

"I told on the joyride to find Lucky remember. I was born into this Katie I never really a choice. It was only because of my brother Wilson didn't come knocking on my door sooner."

"This is a family legacy type of thing there was no helping me." Kate was replaying every single word from the previous conservation she held with you. Back when you were just a stranger she low-key felt sorry for. All of those words held new meaning to her now. The two of you had grown up together sharing every little dirty secret with each other. She was supposed to know you better than anyone in her life, but just like her parents there was a dark side to you. She knew nothing about till now.

"Where is your brother now? Why did he stop protecting you?" She asked with venom in her voice. Of course she was projecting the blame on him now. Kate was spiraling trying to make sense of all this, and some way to justify your actions in her eyes.

"Kazi is dead" You told her with no emotion. Knowing the revelation would hurt her even more considering she knew your brother after facing off with him more than a few times.

Kate tried to keep her reaction in check and give nothing away, but her mouth opened for just a fraction of a second. Before closing as no words came to mind she knew Kazi had died during the showdown between her and Clint, but only because the Avenger was the one who told her.

Clint had discovered his dead body while trying to round up all the bad guys to make sure. The cops put all of them behind bars where they belonged. He didn't tell her rather or not it was one a misplaced or arrow that had killed him, or something else. She always believed Fisk had doubled back to punish his second in command for failing him, but now she know the crime lord still had use of him. Kate was on the verge of hyperventilate at the thought that her or Clint had caused your brother's death. When you spoke up again easing her mind.

"Maya killed him in self-defense he wanted her dead so he could take over the Tracksuits. She was supposed to die the same night her father and mine's did." You reassured her stepping off the ledge wanting nothing more than to go to her.

"Wait your dad died in a car accident" Kate whispered sounding unsure. She didn't what to believe now.

You shook your head. "That's what I told you to and how it was setup to look like. But Kazi orchestrated those hits on the behalf of Wilson Fisk."

"Y/N' she breathed your name with sympathetic eyes. The night she had came to you crying about putting her mother away. You were grieving the death of your brother.

"Its okay Kate I came to terms with Kazi's death years before it happened. I knew this life would put him in the grave sooner than later. Why do you think I spent most of my teenage years begging him to leave it behind with me?"

"Why didn't he?"

"He was sucked into all of this from day one and no matter what it costed him. Kazi believed this was a legacy worth fighting and dying more. I knew it was a curse the day it took our mother away from me." You said with a faraway look in your eyes. The memory forced its way from the deep dark depths of your subconscious fighting to the surface.

It had been years since you thought about that night when ten-year old you was lying in the bed fast asleep. Until a crash in the living room pulled you from your peaceful slumber.

The sound of breaking glass was followed by your mother's cries of pain mixed in with pleas for her children to be spared. You could make out a few words with the side of your face pressed to the door. Frozen in fear waiting for your big brother or father to come to rescue, in the moment you hadn't yet realized. All of this was happening to the later, and eventually Kazi did burst from his room with a baseball bat in hand.

You heard the sickening crunch of the aluminum bat connecting with a goon's knee knocking out of place. The man let out a cry of pain dropping to the floor to clutch his knee. Before you knew what you were doing adrenaline took over, and you yanked your door opened to rush onto the scene.

Another goon was too busy trying to wrestle the bat away from Kazi who held onto it for dear life. A bigger guy stood in the living room doorway with a shape so big. It blocked out the moonlight trying to peek through from the windows behind him. His focus was solely on your mother who was kneeling before him with her hands folded out in front of her.

No one seemed to notice your arrival till you grabbed the gun that fell from the crippled goon's hands. You pulled back on the mechanism just like your dad taught you reloading it. Everyone's eyes snapped in your direction as you trained the gun on the big man. Unable to make out his face hidden by his over-the-top hat, and the shadows of the night.

"Leave my mommy and brother alone" You ordered keeping the gun steady.

The other goon released his hold on the bat causing your brother to stumble back into the table. He recovered fast enough to put himself between you and the goon. When the man pulled a gun from his waistband to aim it at your head.

"Boss say the word and I'll light the little brats up" came the man's gruff voice.

"No" your mother shrieked pushing herself to her feet to run over throwing her arms around. Both of you into her tight and protective embrace. "Not them Fisk please you can take me but leave them be. I'll make them behave."

The big man named Fisk tilted his head to the side letting out a hmph sound. The goon's finger trembled on the trigger ready to pull it, and bring an end to all this.

"Leave the children be and bring the mother. We shall make an example out of her" Fisk ordered his man. His voice calm and unwavering despite the intensity of the situation. He talked like this was just another business meeting, and he hadn't come here to destroy a family tonight.

Kazi fought his way out of his mother's grip and tried to shield her away from the goon. But the bigger man just slammed the butt of his gun into his head. Your big brother froze for just a second as his body locked up, and the bat slipped from his fingers. A second later he toppled over onto the floor.

"Kazi" you cried attempting to raise the gun still in your grip again. But your mother forced your hands back down and brought a hand to caress your cheek.

"Babygirl I need you to put this down. Can you do that for me?" she asked softly.

You were able to make out her soft features, and the tears glistening her face. "Mom please don't go with them" you whispered covering her hand with yours.

"I have too sweetheart but its going to be okay. They're only taking me to your father. I promise it'll be okay but you have to stop fighting" she tried again.

Your mother never broke a promise so you didn't hesitate in tossing the gun aside. She told you to stay with Kazi and pressed lingering kisses all over both of your faces. Then you watched as she was escorted from the house by the abled goon and the crippled one limped his way out. Fisk was the last to leave the house throwing one last glance at you and Kazi.

It would be the last time you saw your mother alive.

"I know you thought my mom died of a sudden heart attack." You whispered as Kate regarded you with a mixture of pity and pain.

"Did my mom know about this?" She mustered up the courage to ask after a moment of silence.

You nodded. "Its why she was always so welcoming to me. She knew I wanted nothing to do with this life, and tried to give me a little bit of normalcy by hanging out with you all the time."

Kate found herself unable to be angry with all the secrets being brought to the light. Even though she had every right to be after all you knew a good portion of her life had been a lie, and you played a part in maintaining the lies. But then again her mother probably hadn't given you much of a choice. In the matter she wanted to ask but was afraid to her more.

"My father failed and my mother paid with her life. My brother failed and the torch was passed onto me."

"I get why you kept all this from me when we were kids y/n-"

You let out a premature sigh of relief believing this argument was over. She understood your reasons and didn't hate you. Until Kate threw out a hand stopping you from hugging her as you approached her.

"But we're not kids anymore and I'm not a child who needed you to protect me from the boogeyman. I'm an Avenger now who took down Fisk last year. You should've came to me for help instead of doing his dirty work. You're no better than my mom."

It was too much especially the her last comment. You exploded unable to hold back anymore.

"Are fucking serious right now? After everything I just told you how can you still believe any of this was a choice. You know what Katie you are a child" You shouted knocking her hand away.

"I'm a child" Kate repeated your words with a scoff. Although you could hear the agony in her voice that she was trying so hard to mask. It broke your heart to be the one causing it, but you went on.

"Yes Katie I don't care what you did last year Fisk could've snapped your neck in a blink of an eye. If he wanted too but he needed your mom's money. Fisk has been put behind bars twice, and he managed to manipulate his way out both times. Maya put a bullet in his head and somehow he's still standing. What do you think you can do that hasn't been done?"

"I would've figured something out" Kate argued.

"And your plan would've failed Kate the only way out for me was too give him what he wants. It was just a few jobs here and there no one even got hurt." You told her.

"Fisk is still a bad guy y/n who killed your mom, and was willing to kill mine. How can you defend him?"

"I'm not defending him. I'm trying to make you understand I couldn't lose anyone else to him especially you. Kate I fucking love you, and I'll burn down this entire city to keep you alive. Not a day goes by where I don't wish I didn't put an end to him that night he came for my mother.

"Y/N" Kate murmured your name finally letting herself reach out to grip your chin. Lifting your head to making you look in soft blue eyes which were filled with tears.

"I told Yelena you wouldn't get it because in your world everything is black and white. There's no room for a gray area."

"Yelena knew about you" she said raising an eyebrow. The gears in her head started to turn, and there was nothing you could do to come back from it. The little moment of peace was over as Kate frowned.

"Is she the reason we're even having this conservation?"

"She was going to tell you if I didn't come clean on my own" You confessed.

"So you were going to continue to run around and do Fisk's dirty work."

"I only have one job left."

Kate released her grip on your chin to clench her fists. "Have? You're still going to finish the job."

"Do you have a better idea?" You shot back matching her tone of anger.

"You're lucky I haven't called the cops yet" she blurted out turning around to put her back to you.

"Locking me up the way you did your mom" You said looking away.

"You told me that was the right call or did your forget?" she yelled whirling back around.

"I told you what you needed to hear Kate but you were wrong. Your mother wasn't the bad guy. If anybody was it was your father who died and left behind a trail of mistakes. Eleanor did her to clean up his mess and keep you safe."

"So what does that make me then?"

"A blinded hero" You answered.

Kate didn't reply right away dropping into a crouch with her hands tangled in her hair. Turmoil on her face as she tried to process your words while working double time to keep. The guilty thoughts away as you unlocked a door she closed a long time ago.

You contemplated making a run for it while Kate was stuck in her own head. But no part of you wanted to leave things like this between the two of you. You wanted clarity on where your relationship with her stood.

The silence was deafening as both of you waited for the other to say something, but neither of you knew what to say because thing were so broken. It was beyond repair and Kate couldn't deal with that right now. While you wanted to believe all of this was still salvageable.

"You have ten seconds."

You had been staring up the night sky counting the stars to pass time when she spoke, so her words didn't register with you right away. "What?"

"You got ten seconds to get out of my sight and I never want to see you again." Kate said with a bit more force this time. Her eyes wouldn't meet yours.

"What about us" You implored.

"I can't be with you anymore y/n not after this. I'm letting you go that's enough alright so just go please" Kate replied. There it was again agony in her voice but this time she didn't try to mask it.

"Katie please you're my light okay. I need you in my life" You begged covering the distance between the two of you with one stride. You placed both of your hands on either side of her face.

"Y/N no stop calling me that" Kate protested attempting to pull away. Until a arm was secured around her waist and then your lips were on hers in a breathtaking kiss. You poured all of your emotions, all the desperation, and pain into it. You needed her to understand and her lips molded with yours like the perfect fit they were. The two of you were meant to be for better or worse. Hero and villain, good and bad, light and darkness. Nothing was supposed to be able to come between the two of you. She had promised you that herself, and you wasn't going to let Wilson Fisk cost you another promise.

Kate finally gathered up the will to shove you away so hard you fell back on the ground. Her bow was back in her hand in a flash, and before you knew. She had an arrow notched trained right at your heart. "And you were the one person in my life who I thought wasn't broken and messed up. But it turns out it was all a lie."

Her words torn through you, and ripped your heart to shreds. You got back to your feet holding back sobs. But the tears fell again as you had lost count just how much crying was done tonight. Your hand move to your collarbone where the arrow with the heart charm rested. "Wow would you look at that foreshadowing."

You yanked the necklace off and threw it to her feet. "Gooddbye Kate." Those were your last words and you turned around to breakout into a swift run. Leaping from the ledge of the apartment building to the next one. Kate watched as you disappeared into the night taking her heart with you.

Not knowing you left yours behind with her.

A Week Later

Wilson blew up your phone with numerous of calls and text messages in the following days. He sent a few men over to the apartment you use to share with Kate, but they never made it. You intercepted them every single of time, and put an end to their lives. Until he finally got the message to stop sending them on the fourth time. When none of his guys returned back to him to report.

He resorted back to threatening calls which were ignored as you were busy plotting revenge.

"Please please I give don't" the robber pleaded holding up his arm. You dropped to one knee moving his hand aside to sock him in the nose. He groaned in pain as his head bounced off the concrete ground.

Your fist was drawn back for another shot when a baton attached to a metal wire wrapped around wrist and tightened. Till the point your hand went numb with blood circulation cut off. The person on the other end gave tugged hard pulling you away from the beaten and battered robber.

"You are one hard dude to find you know. I've been trying to get your attention for days."

You twisted your around as your body was dragged backwards deeper into the alley. Your legs were extended out catching your assailant in the chest. He absorbed the kick with ease due to his armored suit.

"So you beat a bunch of street thugs within an inch of their life"said the mysterious man. His identity concealed under a yellow horned mask, but strangely enough it was only covered the top half of his face.

"You got an update on the suit I see it doesn't really go with the whole Devil of Hell's Kitchen title." You commented observing his suit for every little detail.

"I go by Daredevil now" he said with a shrug.

"That's catchy and less of a mouthful I guess."

He began to unwrap the wire from around your wrist and once you were free. The baton snapped back into place with the other end. "What do you want with me?"

"Your help you and I share a common enemy. The name Wilson Fisk ring any bells?" You asked ready to judge his reaction.

He hid his facial expressions well but his body tensed up at the sound of his number one nemesis's name. "I actually do my best too stay off his radar these days. He's not my concern anymore."

You nodded in understanding. "I would back off too if a man like that uncovered my secret identity, but what happens you should know better. Matthew because believe Fisk still keeps tab on you and your friends. Foggy Nelson and Kare-"

Matthew Murdock didn't give you the chance to finish your sentence before bone-rushing you. Slamming your body into the brick wall pressing the side of your face with vicious intent.

"Keep her name out your mouth" he sneered right in your ear. He was so close you could feel his breath on your neck.

"Who are you?" He growled.

"Someone who wants Fisk dead just as much as you did a few years back, but unlike you I intend on going through with it." You said through gritted teeth.

"What does that have to do with me? I wasn't going to stand in your way."

"I know but others might and I need help keeping them off might back."

"Why would I do that? Its not my style" Matt argued but he stepped back letting you turn around to face him.

"Because you're tired of walking eggshells around your home careful not to step on his toes, and bring upon his wrath again. You want to go the bed at night without looking over your shoulder or your loved ones's."

Matthew reached up to pull his mask off revealing his entire face to you. His dark hair was a mess and his eyes were guarded. "What did Fisk take away from you."

Tag List: @danveration @yelenabelovasgf @xxromanoffxx @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @natashasilverfox @catswag22 @be-missed @lizlil @acutenobody @kacka84 @supercorpdanbeau @itbeila @jimicantaffordtherapy @screechcat

"Everything so I got nothing else to lose so what do you say? Think you can go back to being the Devil of Hell's Kitchen for one more night."

#marvel imagine #mcu imagine #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop #hawkeye #matthew murdock #daredevil

[fellshish]

I finally caught Covid and am looking for novel-length destiel fic recs to pass the time, any recommendations? I recently finished The Cheapest Room In The House and cannot stop thinking about how beautiful the prose were. Thank you for all your rec lists!

I hope you get better soon ❤️ novel-length fics are the fandom’s specialty it seems, and i haven’t read a ton so these recs will be pretty basic. Nevertheless, enjoy:

AUs

Everyone’s a critic (T, 109k): dean’s a chef and cas is a blogger who calls his food “closeted”. Rude! Very funny and romcommy

The dean winchester beat sheet (E, 144k): dean is inexplicably mad at hot exchange student castiel… so many memorable scenes

Four-letter word for intercourse (E, 194k): a phone sex fic with the power to change your life

And this, your living kiss (M, 56k): the poet!dean fic, this is so good and you’ll cherish and reread it many times

Canon-ish

Fenario (E, 47k): just short of novel-length but so beautifully written, a must-read fix-it

The cost of a thing (M, 74k): fake dating, human cas, wonderful

Peace came upon me (and it leaves me weak) (E, 73k): this fic deals with the characters deeply and emotionally. Dean goes to the AA

Blackwater lakes (M, 51k): post 15x18, cas takes his life and body in hand by getting tattoos

Broken road (M, 109k): lebanon rewrite that i still think about often

Oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith (E, 62k): very interesting take on what heaven could look like for dean postcanon

A winter’s tale (T, 64k): truly heartbreaking retelling of the s9 human!cas arc

#destiel fic recs #destiel #feel free to reblog a rec list darlings

[bakasara]

oh, they are Addams couples. Aziraphale and Crowley, and Ed and Stede, are both a flavor of Addams-type couple. Hear me out--

We tend to associate Stede and Aziraphale, and Ed and Crowley, right?

Aesthetically, you have Stede and Aziraphale both looking like posh Blonde White Man Who's Trouble, while Crowley and Ed both got the Edgy Goth aesthetic going on.

By character traits/narrative role, Aziraphale and Stede are the Covert Bastard who can and will be a bitch; they have both long dealt with living in oppressive systems by way of painful compromises and self-repression, always teetering on the edge of desertion and, sooner or later, called to make a choice to disavow those systems for good.

Crowley and Ed are these brilliant and vibrant minds frustrated by hurt, both betrayed in life by a social system outside their control that cast them down without a choice; they take a Flint-style "this ends when I forgive the system, not the other way around" approach to it in that they openly shun the system back, but the original rejection and its cascading effects still left them traumatized and fragile around the matter.

(Then there's all four of these characters being soooo dramatic and such a Theater-Kid-type person, so they all have that in common.)

However, there is a place where the parallels switch, bringing Stede and Crowley far closer on one side, and Aziraphale and Ed closer on the other. And it has to do with the fact that in both these couples there's a character whose job often tends to be Beach, just Beach Husband, just Husband, opposing the other character who's prone to going into High Maintenance Diva / Mermaid With Melancholy modes.

Aziraphale is quite capable of taking care of himself, but he'll literally fold his arms and play princess in the castle waiting for Crowely to rescue him, because Enrichment. He'll do it in life-or-discorporation situations, like when he's about to get guillotined. He'll do it with minor inconveniences - like with the paintball stain, where it's obscenely obvious he's just waiting to be indulged, wants the satisfaction of seeing that Crowley will treat him. He'll pretend he was reading when Crowley comes back from an argument and make Crowley ring a bell to get his attention. "Pleeease, Crowley, do the bullet catch with me even though you've never used a rifle". "Let me take the Bentley while you look after the bookshop". Et cetera. And Crowley takes to all this like a bee to honey. Follows him around the neighborhood, indulges his every caprice, dreams of Alone Time at the Ritz where they can just treat themselves to brunch and, I guess, where he can watch Aziraphale eat some more, which is his idea of this Absolutely Great Activity that just makes his day.

Ed will lean on the helm and sigh like he's Ariel, yes, but it's more than that. Painting the bride cake topper in kajal to look like him sits at the (narratively fucking ingenious) intersection of "I'm making it me because I'm never there, it's never me" and "I'd really like for once for someone to treat me like I'm precious and worthy of pampering" which reflect feelings we've known about since the beginning of s1, at least since he touched the piece of cashmere in Stede's cabin. He also genuinely swings fast between energized/manic and low energy/feelings of hopelessness, and his brain goes Faster Than Yours, and he gets genius-slash-crazy ideas on the reg. When he needed to call to all of his strength he imagined it as a giant sea creature with huge, all-encompassing arms. Florence Welch Big God Behavior. It's a big personality, and you're either enamored with it or not, you're either happy to follow him around basking in it, or you're not strong enough a suitor to his heart and should abandon pursuit. But luckily Stede's also a crazy maniac whose life goal is riding or dying for that in his Boyfriend Era until he can ride or die for that in his Faithful and Realized Husband Era.

So yeah, there's a lot to the dynamic between these duos - more than this, don't get me wrong! - but I'm VERY appreciative of this facet of them that gets all tongue-in-cheek kinda

#ofmd #good omens #ineffable husbands #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #not to mean that crowley and stede don't also need some pampering and taking care of #or that aziraphale and ed don't pay attention to that #definitely not what i'm saying - not even in the general area of. just to clarify

[pyropsychiccollector]

Natsu Harem: Fairy GET! 4/14

Let's see... Pink, brown, white.... We'll go with blue. Yes, blue. (人◕ω◕)

Juvia will be the next here. (人◕ω◕)

When did they meet?

During the Tower of Heaven incident. (人◕ω◕) Admittedly, Juvia's "love at first sight" thing with Gray is... Well, it happened. Even with this series having fanfiction in its veins, I won't pretend the crush never existed. I already acknowledged Chelia's crush on Lyon, and Cana's dabbled around with men... Might as well touch on Juvia's obsession with Gray. I am no coward. I will overcome this hiccup with relative ease~... Not that Gray doesn't deserve a girl. ... I'm just not crazy about Gruvia. Navia is much more interesting. Fite me. (人◕ω◕)

So, Juvia goes and helps Team Natsu infiltrate the Tower of Heaven to save Erza. (人◕ω◕) She's jealous of Lucy's bond with Gray, so she makes her air bubble smaller out of spite. They all manage to make it into the Tower, so no harm no foul~...

To be perfectly honest, however, Juvia and Natsu interactions are fleeting in canon. So I'll skip the long-winded review of canon events and just give a bare-bones look back at it. Even if Juvia's whole shtick is supporting and orbiting around Gray, the fact remains that she does help Team Natsu and Fairy Tail as a whole... Even joins the guild. (人◕ω◕)

When did they grow closer?

This is a million yen question, folks. While there's a ton of flexibility and options, strictly going by canon Juvia would never give Natsu the time of day. Good thing I was never a canon purist. (人◕ω◕)

Juvia's thing is Gray, yeah? So it follows if she wants to be as close to him as possible, she'd hafta join Team Natsu. Cuz for better or for worse, Gray is nice and cozy on a team with his hotheaded rival, Lucy, Erza, Happy, and eventually Wendy and Carla. (人◕ω◕) That said... If Juvia does join up, I can see Erza wanting to attempt some team bonding exercises to get to know one another better~... This means not just bonding as a group, but in two- to three-person units. This means sooner or later, Juvia will have to team up with Natsu and be properly introduced.

... Do not be fooled, however. (❋•‿•❋) Juvia is a stubborn, faithful woman. Bonding with Natsu is her least favorite ways to pass the time... He's loud, has no manners, always picks fights... Oh yeah. And he always beats up her Darling. (❋•‿•❋) You can be sure that in their early interactions, Juvia-chan attempted to order Natsu to stop picking fights with Gray, if only so that her Beloved could better spend his time.

It doesn't work out, of course. Natsu's just as much of a free spirit as Juvia is. And moreover... Natsu and Gray both confirm for Juvia that they get plenty out of butting heads with each other; in their own quirky way, they're making sure the other isn't slacking off, and constantly measuring their strength against one another. (❋•‿•❋) Juvia might not like it... But it is what it is.

So once the initial cold shoulder phase is over and Juvia does some jobs with Natsu, she begins to see his caring spirit. Whether it's her, Happy, a client, or someone else being threatened... Natsu gives it his all to defend them. While Juvia finds it admirable, she does still think Gray is leagues above Natsu. And really, she's besties with Gajeel. She knows Dragon Slayers are strong and have big hearts. She knows that. ... They just don't appeal to her on a romantic level. (❋•‿•❋)

Here's something a little interesting, though. (❋•‿•❋) Lisanna befriended the Edolas Juvia. So when the S-Class trials come up, she volunteers to be Juvia's partner, even though Juvia is severely down in the dumps about being a rival to her Beloved. She doesn't mind Lisanna's companionship, Juvia's just got Gray on her mind. Always. (❋•‿•❋)

But the Lisanna connection really is a possible way in for Natsu. An additional way for him and Juvia to be connected. After the trials and the seven year gap, Juvia does grow closer to Lisanna, and consequentially she and Natsu get more time together little by little. (❋•‿•❋) The Navia ship is often a slowburn, folks. Natsu isn't romantically attracted to Juvia, not for a long while, and you know Juvia is a faithful woman. And you know Lisanna won't be telling Juvia to jump ship, no, no. Lisanna-chan can be a bit... greedy like her neesan. (❋•‿•❋)

Still, the Grand Magic Games goes to show Juvia that Natsu is remaining as tough as ever. Which is good for her Darling, cuz Gray needs a strong rival. (❋•‿•❋) Juvia also enjoys participating in the games...even if for the first while she was technically a rival to her Beloved. Again. But then final day of the games came up, and Juvia replaced Natsu's spot so he could go save Lucy. Then she was a teammate with Gray-sama. (❋•‿•❋)

After the games and the stuff with the dragons... Juvia-chan thinks Natsu has earned a reward for helping give her time with Gray-sama, not to mention the destruction of the Eclipse Gate. (๑╹ω╹๑ ) They're just friends, but Juvia has come to accept time with Natsu is not time wasted anymore. She winds up knitting Natsu a new scarf... Not that Natsu is willing to accept the thing, cuz the scarf he got from Igneel is more precious to him.

... This depresses Juvia a lot, considering she put a lot of thought into her gift to Natsu... On top of being rejected by Gray constantly, it's like being turned down in stereo with Natsu joining in. Natsu picks up on this, and resolves to cheer Juvia up despite not understanding what's wrong. After Mira walks him through the problem - to which he only half-listened, half-understood - Natsu decides to get Wendy's help in enchanting the scarf to have some of his Magic. He'll hafta "recharge" the scarf every now and then, every few months, but he gives the scarf back to Juvia and she's amazed at how toasty it feels. (๑╹ω╹๑ ) At first she thought Natsu was just throwing it back at her, but once he explained what he and Wendy did... Juvia's touched at Natsu's thoughtfulness. ... Even if she still hasn't given him a proper gift yet. Juvia feels bad about that. But. Natsu-kun isn't a complete blockhead of a friend, and Juvia will take this as a win. (๑╹ω╹๑ )

Do we even need to go over Juvia and Meredy? (๑╹ω╹๑ )

... (๑╹ω╹๑ );;;

When does friendship turn to something more?

After Tartaros, Juvia can't think of anything except how she hurt Gray by helping "kill" his dad... She doesn't even know or think about Igneel dying... So whereas Natsu's off cavorting with the Strauss Siblings during the year hiatus, Juvia's with Gray-sama. (๑╹ω╹๑ )

... It's not exactly everything Juvia wanted, despite how she puffs it up as all that. (๑╹ω╹๑ );;; Natsu's Magic ran out months ago in the scarf, and Juvia has felt... empty without it. Plus, even with Gray treating her as a good friend, he still edges away from romance. Naturally this bums Juvia out. And when Natsu sees the scarf and just charges it up for Juvia without being prompted... That sticks in Juvia's mind. (๑╹ω╹๑ )

She's there when Fairy Tail's all reunited. And Juvia goes with Team Natsu to save Makarov from the Alvarez Empire. The subsequent war brought to Ishgar is... overwhelming. A lot happened. There's several points Juvia isn't sure how they'll make it through the day.... But they do.

And in spite of everything that's happened... Gray still turns her down for a relationship. Of course he was overly apologetic about nearly killing her, and Juvia is a precious friend to him... But Gray can't force something that isn't there. He carried his dad's wish to hunt down END and kill him for the past year, and now he's just not sure what he's gonna do from now on. Sticking with Fairy Tail and Team Natsu is obvious, protecting his friends is "no duh", but he just... His head's not in the right place for a relationship. He needs time to unwind and figure out his own personal goals in life.

Not that this more decisive rejection doesn't rattle Juvia to her core... She keeps insisting she'll wait for Gray, but her insistence only makes Gray all the more resolved to keep his answer as "no"; cuz in his mind, Juvia deserves better after the mistakes he's made. And she shouldn't put her whole love life on hold, let alone dedicate herself to someone that just may never reciprocate...

That's when Gray decides to get Natsu, Lisanna, and Meredy's help on this one. They're all friends with Juvia, and if anyone could get Juvia off this tunnel vision thing, it'd be them... It's not easy. Juvia is tenacious, committed, and really, does anyone like admitting it's over when it's over...?

After some prodding from Lisanna and Meldy, Natsu takes Juvia out for dinner. He even gets dressed up with the girls' help, and go to a nice restaurant. Sure, it's not this perfect outing that Juvia envisioned, and she's even more devastated when she perceives Lisanna and Meldy's intentions to get her to try a date with Natsu...

But at the end of the day, Juvia only realized the outing was a "date" after it was nearing its end. Despite the high class restaurant, going to a nighttime festival, doing whatever Juvia was up for... Juvia just took it all as Natsu trying to cheer her up. When she realized it was a date, Juvia was certainly revolted at first, that she enjoyed herself with someone other than Gray-sama...

... But after all this time with Natsu, Juvia knows he never meant any ill will. Natsu knows her feelings for Gray are strong, and he's not trying to erase them out of spite. He's helping out because even the Stripper is concerned for Juvia, that Lisanna and Meldy are worried for her, and they all just want Juvia to be happy.

It's still a bitter pill to swallow, to just give up on Gray after all this time... But Natsu-kun has always been there, as have Lisanna and Meldy. They've been great friends... And Juvia supposes she can learn to love Natsu more "properly". (๑╹ω╹๑ ) For Natsu's part... He never has to complain about Juvia being "fired up" for jobs or much of anything. Their mutual passion for life bounces off each other quite nicely~... Yes. This couple has all the good vibes. \(๑╹ω╹๑ )/

#Fairy Tail #Juvia Lockser #Natsu Dragneel #Natsu x Juvia #Navia

[notnaturalstuff]

You asked for fic recs where Cas beats up John so here I am with the three I’ve read recently!! I loved all of them but the first one made me cry so hard I couldn’t breathe and the last one is more Cas and John fighting verbally than physically by Dean steps in and adds the physical which still counts to me.

Psalm 40:2

A turn of the earth

Oh sooner or later it comes down to faith

I love you ❤️

Thank you so much for these recs I’ve read and absolutely loved Psalms 40:2 and A turn of the earth because I’m a big slut for time travel 🫢

I’m definetly gonna check out Oh sooner or later it comes down to faith (I feel like i’ve read it but i don’t have it bookmarked so who’s to say 😅)

#destiel fic rec #destiel time travel #cas beats up john

[bloodydeanwinchester]

omg this next sobsicles fic that im reading is so fucking funny

they’re in heaven and when you want something, even subconsciously, heaven gives it to you and deans subconscious is basically telling him that he’s in love with cas but he doesn’t consciously understand it yet

and the funny part is that his subconscious keeps plopping a fucking bottle of lube in front of them when he and cas are in the bedroom 💀💀

#jenna reads oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith

[pilichainartandmemes]

Malevolent fic - Big Fat Taco

They had reached the terminus, enemies on the plateform and on their tail. His aim cannot be trusted and his eyes stutter at mirages. So down, down, down it goes.

I just think that if you won’t dig into a guy with your bare hands for your apocalypse rock, you don’t deserve it. ;) The idea would't leave me and so here is the result of four intense days of writing before the season four finale comes out later today(well tomorrow in my case). Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did putting it together!

Warnings: Canon typical violence, gore, non consensual platonic touching, major character death and choking.

Cross posted on AO3

“ I… I think we’ve built enough distance between us and them… Care to explain what I’m supposed to do with this rock now”, panted Arthur leaning against the wall absolutely lost. The faster they got rid of it, the sooner they could leave this blasted place. Because of course Noel had to find out at the worst possible time about John’s past. Of course they lost the bloody gun while escaping the detective and the cultists. Of course Larson found out where Oscar was the same way he did for Daniel and-

“ -thur! Arthur! What is the point of me explaining if you don’t fucking listen? We are going to open a portal. Just like how we dealt with Scratch.”

“ … That’s it," laughed Arthur weakly, "the grand end to the order of the fallen star comes down to throwing a rock into whatever hell we find. Then we hope whatever’s on the other side can’t use it? What if we unleash whatever power is inside the Black Stone? Exactly just like what happened with Scratch!”

“I don’t hear YOU coming up with any ideas! We still need to escape this place and k- clearly many cultists so we might as well… jump in?”

“Jesus fucking christ, John... I didn’t miss taking very literal leaps of faith into the unknown with you.”

“Likewise but with our luck it was a matter of time.”

“Indeed it was. Shame we don’t have the pages but I assume you wouldn’t propose this if you didn’t remember. Am I right, John?”

“Of course I do! Now let me focus… Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Sed obscuratus nox quaeso mundenetis…”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Impertus meter amicum allundem num.”

“Depli mon faenis de tua quae… quae frequens? No. Frenusculi ? No it wasn’t that either !”

“John! I thought you said you knew the incantation!”

“YES I KNOW IT! Damnit Arthur, you say that as if you don’t forget to keep our eyes open for me every day!”

“Fine! Fine! For both our sakes think quickly!” And yet as he retorted back, Arthur began to calculate their odds. From past experiences those bouts of amnesia seemed temporary so they could still manage to open the portal. However with the delay and more people seeing where the stone went, just a throw would not work. Would the cultists even hesitate at the idea of entering the portal? If those madmen didn’t, they would have to fight for every second. Okay so they needed protection or at least something to keep their opponents at bay.

Tuning out John’s frustrated cusses at the Latin language itself, he patted their bag and pockets. Starting a fire was a last resort and could wait until they had an actual escape window. The bestiary wouldn’t be of help against humans. That left them with their unlucky dagger, regardless of John’s insistence to get rid of it. The weapon wouldn’t win against a gun or more than two cultists. But it was their also very last resort…  Should they lose it in the scuffle or…

What if Arthur missed again? It wouldn't be the first time his shoddy aim betrayed them when it mattered the most. They would not have another chance to get the stone and he doubted John would accept retreat after dragging them all the way to New York for it. The moment they lost sight, ha, of the rock was the moment Larson won. They needed a hiding place or at least somewhere the cultists would not think to look into…

“Oh. John no matter what continue trying to remember the spell. I just found the smartest way to get the black stone into the portal! Trust me!”

“- tua quae frenae! FRENAE! It was frenae! Wait... What do you mean smartest?” His friend asked cautiously but he didn’t have enough time to react as Arthur grabbed the rock from their pocket and shoved it down their throat.

Neither John or Arthur’s body were keen on the plan. The Black Stone burnt as he could feel it move past his throat into his… veins? Evidently the cursed object didn’t care for human biology and would go wherever it pleased. If he could just… nudge it towards… THERE!

“Arthur, are you out of your goddamn mind?! Spit it out! Come on!”

“ We’re fine… absolutely fine! Now,” just as he said that a tremor shook their spine and it took all their combined focus to not fall face first, “NOW we don’t have to worry about cultists with deft hands.”

“Do you really think given how we first met him he would stop at taking your life to get his hands on the Black Stone?” His partner growled, and yet beneath it worry laced into his every word.

“Larson? He did hurt many people but it was always through others. Like the butcher or the creature in the mines.” He retorted, confused and wondering not for the first time who scared his friend more than the King or their current enemies.

“Of course! Who else would be after us? This building is crawling, I mean, full of cultists. Surely this kind of... miscreants would have no issue going through us for this artifact.”

“Miscreants… Really, John? Anyway it doesn’t matter!” One more time. If Arthur could ignore the elephant in the room between them one more time, they would actually be fine.

They did not even finish the first sentence of the spell before a shot rang out and a sharp pain took over their right leg. Head and knee promptly were introduced with the wall that would have housed their gate. Shame Larson didn’t account for the headache or John’s yelling before starting to gloat. Another spasm coursed through as he tried to turn around. Its tango with their new wound left the duo a heap of limbs on the floor. Hopefully the view was still better than the wall. The heat that had been building behind their eyes flared and Arthur bit down hard to keep them open, inhaling sharply.

“Well it seems whatever tricks you had in mind backfired in more ways than one. Arthur, did you truly think you waltz your way into my domain unscathed?”

“Oh, yeah! Definitely! But maybe you never went back to Addison? I could always give you a refresher.” He could stall. Get the dagger out, have John could carve the incantation and smear it with blood. Surely they could skip the spoken part that way. Just needed to create a blind spot for them.

Evidently however, unlike Arthur, Larson did see the move coming and stomped on the left half of it. Ignoring his partner’s shouts, he awkwardly flipped on his side. Holding on tight to Larson’s ankle, he sliced at the heel. Shoddy aim and his body complaining every step of the way didn’t leave a deep enough wound. Regardless it was enough for the prick to retreat out of range. Maybe the floor was okay for now as their two functional limbs were split fifty-fifty. Well if you didn’t count the shoulder on the same side getting shot the day before. Speaking of bullets, another lodged itself into the carpet right by his ear as he jolted at the noise and ringing that followed.

“You appear to be the one in need of a reminder of the current situation apparently. Now stop staring at the barrel and tell me where the Black Stone is?”

“For once luck is on our side: Larson didn’t witness your crowning act of idiocy. Keep. Him. Talking! Every bullet in the floor is a bullet that isn’t in our body.”

“Now that’s a bit of a wild guess! Why would little old me have any idea… what that is? I figured I could crash whatever party you had in town, as you know, a payback. It has been… quite a busy week.” Arthur laced that last sentence with all the venom which had piled up over the last few days. It hadn’t even been a full fortnight since the Dreamlands for fuck’s sake.

“Your strange habit of pausing at odd times remains, how queer”, pondered Larson while his enemy attempted to stand again, less graceful about it than a fish on dry land, “I assume you do not need further help emptying your pockets.”

“Listen. Why don’t I smash your head in? Shot you. Step on your hand. THEN you can see how easy it is to focus.”

“I’m afraid I’ll pass the offer…. what is all THIS junk?” Larson asked in disdain as Arthur tried to open the bag with one hand only for the contents to spill out. Fantastic! Turns out he had been holding it upside down!

“The glass, the stone, the mask, the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and hooks, the kit of course to help him shave are all in Arthur's bag today. But don’t forget the dagger, the flute, the keys and the lighter that keeps the darkness at bay.” The familiarity of matching a series of notes calmed him down just a little. It didn’t matter that the source of that particular song had been fresh out of a bloodbath.

“What the hell is wrong with you?! Shooting the lock and letting that creature at the crowd to get the stone was genius compared to this. And why did you have to bring him up? Wait- there’s someone coming up around the corner!  

“… No matter. Unlike you, I have all night, my wits about me and only friends here.”

“Don’t be so sure about that.”

“Arthur, it’s Noel! He managed to get past our distraction and is holding Larson at gun point. His shoulder seems to be injured. His sleeves are torn with large dents matching the claws of that thing. If we could somehow turn them against each other, there may enough time to run. Or at least get the portal open.”

“Are you sure about this, detective? It would be poor etiquette as Arthur’s plus-one to have him killed.” Replied Larson as if this entire ordeal was nothing more than an argument at the local pub.

“That won’t be a problem. The plan isn’t to arrest him. Dreadful accidents happened with that many candles in smaller establishments. At the same time, testimonies of assault on the treasurer of another sect, maiming and murder have been connected to him.”

 Of course John decided that was the right moment to needle his partner about the decision to give his name to the secretary.  As if they had anyone else beside Daniel to be introduced to the freemasons. Surely Oscar or his father would vouch for Arthur’s character… at least for some of these accusations.  Not that it would amount to much if they didn’t make it out alive. Still he feared being wanted in a big city would make it harder for him to move around the States or to leave them.

“Cults like these prey on people facing hard times and get them to commit atrocities in the name of some big guy above or below. Nobody wants to believe their parent, friend or tenant would choose to be involved in shady stuff. If they can’t look at the evidence, they can bother some PI looking to make ends meet this month.” Noel finished, exhaustion slipping into that last sentence. No doubt the detective had to explain cases like these to clients both in Arkham as a private investigator then as a policeman in New York.

“That’s quite the story you wrote there! Have you ever considered becoming a playwright? Addison may not be a high production stage but you’ll have a captivated crowd and the support of a patron of the arts.” Larson drawled while he slowly drew his gun away from the thief. Although one didn’t need sight to guess he wasn’t about it.

“No thanks. I dealt with enough theater obsessed lemon suckers a few years ago. Then again this crony here is the reason I’m here tonight. Take out those cartridges and kick the weapon away… Jesus, my grandmother would have done better than that.”

“And Wallace is old enough to have met her in her heyday. He just had to throw his daughter at the monsters for that privelege! Clearly he’s the biggest threat here, Charlie. Everything you see at my feet is what I had on me tonight. There is no stupid rock!”

“Oh please, we all saw you leave with it! Would you quit acting like you care about the wellbeing of children anymore than respecting the divine or your elders. If that were true, she would still be here. Your precious little Fa-”

Arthur wasn’t about to let him finish. Compared to the Butcher or the ghoul, Larson was a lightweight. They didn’t need a knife. He would choke the life out of the piece of shit, one-handed if he had to. The monster didn’t get to speak her name.

Someone grabbed for his collar and yanked. He trashed hoping to grab onto his first opponent for stability. Unfortunately their body was acquainted yet again with wall, this time shoulder firsts. The shock didn’t have time to settle in before a punch in the gut had him hitting bedrock.

“Jesus fucking Christ… Do not call me that ever again. As if his highness would tell some guy his grand plan. He stole that name, that voice and is now using it to drag you around wherever he likes. This thing isn’t your friend.”

 “You know nothing! You humans act so high and mighty pretending kindness is inherent to living from the very moment of your birth. Care to guess what happened at mine? I was shoved into a hell worse than you could possibly imagine where neither time nor death has meaning. So yes! More often than not I lie rather than put my trust into people who have earnt it. I go for the throat when I feel even a little cornered. Everyone here has done that so stop fucking pretending any of you are gentle souls!” John’s truth burnt and yet his head felt clearer than it had since swallowing that rock. In the trail of that shooting star, Arthur just had to speak it all out loud for the rest of the world to hear. “Besides I can’t even get him to walk into a movie theater and sit still for fifty minutes.”

Nobody else said anything for a long while. Arthur could feel the fever chewing at his brain as they both caught their breaths from having pushed too far their limits. In the rare moment of quiet, he took notice of something familiar. Back with Parker, they had to look inside a freezer for clues and for lack of adequate clothing got forced to take turns. The cold current from back then it crawled the exact same way in the gap between his socks and his pants at his ankles. Out of damning curiosity he reached out and-

“Oops, thank you, totally missed by cue there. You gotta understand, detectives! I was so captivated by all those twists, turns and delightful noises, I got… distracted Man, I am going to miss not knowing the plot ahead of time. With that said, great surprise party everyone!”

“… it’s him”, John all the bravery snuffed out like a candle, “he’s squatting on our left, barefoot like back in the dreamlands. Ah. He’s what happened to our distraction. I can see its iridescent blood shining eerily against the black of his suit. In his hand there is a very large flat bread folded in two. There is so much garniture; you could not it around without half of the ingredients falling off. No it’s more than that. The sauce, a few drops hang by a thread as if they won’t fall unless he wills it.”

“Damn. Someone get an oxygen mask! This guy just wrote a spiel about a big fat taco.”

Without thinking Arthur flung himself in the opposite direction and despite the pain crawled as fast and as far as he could. Suddenly his brain connected the dots on the topic and person John had been avoiding to speak of this past week. Of fucking course it had to be that guy! He rasped out every word of the incantation he could remember, hoping John would follow suit. Unfortunately for them that distance didn’t mean very much I practice as clearly Kayne had no issue reeling them back so close he could feel the entity’s breath on his neck.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Arthur! Don’t say more, I- I can get us out of this!”

“Aww, you didn’t have to wrap up my present like that!  At this point it’s not just pretty paper and a bow… I can’t simply tear it up with how much love was put into this.” Singsonged the devil flicking back and forth his prey’s damaged earlobe.

Okay that was way too much: the uncomfortable heat beneath his skin and in his head, John’s apologies as he tried to grab their captor’s attention, the strange texture of the definitely non-human hands. He needed out now!

“How does it feel to be New York’s most wanted catch? You got quite a number hooked, ha! Hooked, get it? It’s the only reason you’re still alive after all!” Kayne asked flipping their body to so the three were face to face, one arm wrapped around their waist and the other holding their chin. Arthur bit down on the ‘hand’.

Everything went white as a chorus of complaints and cheers flooded his ears. Slowly he could make out Parker’s voice questioning his partner’s sanity in taking on that eating competition even with that big of a price at stake. Distant and muffled as if coming from under water or maybe he was the one below the surface. His suit must have been an absolute mess if his loudest detractor was to be believed. Thick black ink, blood or possibly both, dripped heavily and slowly like licorice down his jaw onto the shaky floor of the caboose. The fresh liquid cooled his brain boiled by the black sun. Broken skin was good. Broken skin meant he could break this down one bite at a time. Experimentally he twisted the flesh beneath his teeth and pulled. Yet the other end refused to snap clean. Instead it extended like cheese on pizza. Instinctively he opened his mouth and attempted catch the falling strings with his teeth.

“I know I’m the most special treat but I’m afraid I need your head not twenty leagues in the gutter.” Finger snapped and his jaws snapped down on empty air. His mind flailed around for the right frequency to reconnect with his senses.

“Let’s make a new deal! No stone as long as you don’t let us go. Or I-I take it with Arthur to the Dark World!” John’s weak bargain and threat was met with derisive laughter.

“Now why would I ask for something I already hold in my own hands? No, no, no! I’m going to enjoy this all-in-one King’s cake, hot and cold, treasure hunt. This time you can even call a friend instead the usual back-seaters. Much faster and less chances of cheating if you ask me!” The devil muttered something about being forced to write a C option to A or B conundrum. “Though really I guess it’s fifty-fifty: the other day there was that guy. I knew him from head to toe. Not you two. I see other people. Like I said! Every line of his silly little life! Urgh middle school production level, at best. And still! Still he managed to surprise me!”

Two hands clapped together as if to put a close to that intermission. The next moment Arthur was back on the floor and he didn’t like how his brain almost let out a sigh of relief at that sensation. The less was said, the less fun Kayne would have. Bar was low, even for them, but so was the ground. The devil said something about first tries removing obvious options before driving a hand into their stomach. Arthur shouted, violent shivers rocking his spine as their body fought vainly to twist out of the way on pure reflex. Unfortunately their digestive tract refused to admit defeat and heaved to expel the unknown intruder back up his throat. Shame malevolent entities didn’t care for the laws of physics and thus he was left coughing bile. Some of which came straight back down his throat.

“Now that the dud is out of the way, am I warm or icy?”

“Fuck you!” Arthur spat out.

“Uh… Cold?”

“Well fuck you too, John!”

“Do you think I’m happy about this?! I was the one sewing this shit back up while you took a bloody nap!” His partner snapped, spewing the vitriol at Arthur since he was too afraid to do the same towards Kayne. Sensing aggression would only have his partner push back, John tried to put himself down as the reasonable one. Hilarious if you asked Arthur given they had left sanity back at his office in Arkham. “Shut up and tell me where the stone is. Please!”

“Not three hours ago we walked into this… rat hole because YOU said we couldn’t leave a bloody rock into their hands! Now you’re telling me! That the doomsday device of the week would … Christ… safe in Kayne’s hands?”

“Artie, you’re such a worrier! No truly. Think of it as, hmmm, the battery of Mister Universe’s alarm clock. The grey part is sort of its casing and I like to picture the red one as a fog horn. Really the world popping out of existence is not even part of the equation. I mean do YOU think about all the bugs crushed setting up picnics? Of course you don’t! Hahaha that would be stupid, am I right? Anyyyway it’s time for take two, gentlemen and entities!”

Take two in fact involved exploring his intestines and accidentally popping their appendix like a cherry. Of course the only apology he got was a ‘whoospie-daisy’ and a quip about John being lucky the book didn’t land him there. “I mean what would have happened at the first argument? Sending the guy straight to the hospital cause you exploded on him?! … actually that would be funny to see I should check before waking Daddy up.” Arthur still tried to slap or push back Kayne’s hands. Totally useless of course but it was better than licking boots the way John did. Especially when the devil clearly wasn’t interested in bargaining. He would like to not be the reason the world ended, thank you very much. The third strike at their lungs yielded as many complaints and yet the stone remained missing. While Arthur could still feel Kayne was merely playing, he wasn’t sure how much longer that would last.

“Your train friend – what did he call himself again, the butcher – wasn’t wrong you know? About the music analogies! It’s all about hitting the right keys. A bit of tuning might be needed with how battered this body is though. Hopefully I won’t have to hit the entire board to find my gift. I really, truly, deeply”, and with each word pressing his fingers right into the still fresh bullet wound, “would hate for it to be lost in all the wrapping!”

“Maybe… you’re just… bad at looking…” Wheezed Arthur inbetween coughs. Even as they remained on the floor he was struggling to stay afloat. Their boiling head had apparently decided to keep all the heat for itself instead of sharing. It left him both shivering and sweating bullets enough to turn Larson into swiss cheese had they been actual ammunition.

“Actually you’re right… It is time to call a friend! Let’s get to it, we have candidate number one: Wallace Larson from the quaint little town of Addison, here to retrieve the sacred artifact for the Order of –what was it again – the shooting star? Who cares! And candidate number two, Arthur’s plus-one-turned-nemesis, detective Noel from the New York Police Department! Who will take a shot at retrieving the Black Stone and earn the ultimate mystery price?! I for one cannot wait to find out!” The devil announced loudly before finishing in a false hushed tone. “Candidate number three having yet to manifest himself shall remain anonymous… for now.”

“Absolutely not! I’m not putting my hands in that!” Shouted Larson as if the very scenario was a personal offense to his character. There was a long pause until he threw a retort at… someone? John had said there were only three people in this corridor aside from them both…

“Oh I’ll take a shot, alright.” Noel’s voice derailed his theory that he was the universe’s chew toy tonight in particular. Then Arthur heard several rounds attempt to drown out Kayne’s rising laughter.

“Noooooo! What could poor little old me do against… human ingenuity. And so I die… To our hero’s quick draw and wit! ARGh!” A confused John told his partner about the performance as the devil had dropped to his knees, grasping his torso in overly exaggerated agony then met face first with the floor.

Athur felt it before it happened: the change of pressure in the air, how they were leaving the eye of storm and about to meet the worst of it. He just needed to do one thing right tonight, just one little thing! Turn what little energy he has left past his throat into a shout to run, to live, to save Noel.

“SURPRISE!”

He startled as several party poppers and blowers went off. Blood spattered everywhere. Propping himself self up for that warning proved to have been a mistake as projectiles collided with their chest. Some small and hard but others squishy and much more wet. He went back down with hiss, head swimming as his mind slipped

Down,

Down,

Down.

“Fuck. FUCK! Noel! His head! It exploded! It’s all over the floor. Kayne… he… popped out of Noel’s neck. His old body has melted into the carpet. It has left a deep black imprint, the edges fizzling but not catching fire. Larson is throwing up beside the left wall. It’s not just the blood... I can identify… parts. An entire eye landed into our chest earlier! It rolled by our side now. There are also a few teeth lodged into our right shoulder. What I thought were confetti in the air were actually fragments of skin. I’m sorry Arthur. I don’t know… I don’t know how to salvage this.”

No trip to England. No letter to Marie. No night at the movie theater. John’s misshaped hand clutched their chest. Their heart was still beating. It didn’t care for gods, grief or pain. It just was.

“What a blast, am I right?! One down, two to go. UNLESS! Our main attraction wishes to open up at last. The hand you were dealt with was pretty bad but you pulled through! Atta boys! Who cares about the finish line? It’s all about the journeyyyyy! So come on, there’s no need to be a sore loser.”

They couldn’t win. Not by a country mile. But..

It didn’t mean Kayne had to.

“Well, they can’t say I didn’t try. But guess what! It seems the final guest sorted himself out as well… Everyone welcome the prince in rags! The phony few had the patience for! The bastard thrown aside as the once and future king made his return! Our mystery candidate number three! Go on, banana peel. Introduce yourself.”

“I- in yellow.”

“Pretty sure even us folk in the front didn’t catch that. Try again your majesty. Put your whole belly into it!”

“I AM THE KING IN YELLOW!”

“Noooow that wasn’t so hard, was it? One could almost believe all the shaking is from a royal tantrum! Penny for your thoughts on the whereabouts of my lucky charm?”

“Carmichael! Bet me on me!”

“Huh. Kinda already am to be honest… But no. That’s not what you want.”

“If I retrieve the Black Stone, I… can keep the rest of him.”

“NO! Kayne, our deal isn’t broken!” Yelled John desperately trying to lift them both up and prove they were still in the game. “Arthur, please! Just tell him! I can’t- I can’t lose you again.”

“Should have thought about that earlier, turncoat! Regardless this tortilla’s got it baaaaad. Never thought you’d want all thorns English Rose back after what he did to you.”

“I want to win.”

“Oh please! You want him back! Hmmm the irony of YOU coming on top… YES that’s it! Okay! Okay. We’re all ears.”

There was a brief silence as Yellow took a deep calming breath. John whispered at Arthur pleading, promising that a fake wouldn’t have pulled him back from the brink in Addison. At the end of his rope his partner brought her up. Somehow not even that worked. Arthur’s thoughts only concerned the monster just a few feet away. One born out of his grief, his misguided love, his bad temper, his selfishness.

“Arthur has the stone inside him,” and immediately the devil cut in with a sarcastic comment but Yellow continued on, “if you searched the lungs then fingers or toes must be valid options as well. No, limbs are easy to separate from the rest. Too big a risk…”

“That it would. I’m so sorry John! The portal closed on us and your arm with the stone is on the other side! Now that would be anticlimactic.”

“John doesn’t know, the entire time he didn’t fight back against you. That leaves out the left foot. As well as his forearm and…”

Strangely Arthur felt a twinge of pride as Yellow broke down his thought process the way an investigator would. He admitted it was a bit self-centered to assume the entity got it from him in their short time together. Maybe at the end he wanted at least one person to understand his choice, the logic behind it.

The gap between the three of them was closed in seconds. A cool sensation spread across his forehead and desperate for the contact to last he leaned deeper and deeper. Ocean waves scratched at his skin as the seagulls laughed and laughed. Taking turns they dug in. The waters trashed around pulling Arthur under. The birds didn’t care and followed after, their cries now clamored for their prey to stop wriggling around. The best lock in the world would not keep Davy Jones’ loot safe for long against someone with both the right tools and determination.

The moment the foreign fingers scratched against their prize, a flash of lucidity cut through. Arthur curled around the stone so tightly he no longer knew where it ended or where he began. Hooks dug into his soul, prying him closer and closer to the surface. Gold strings fiercely yanked him back towards the abyss. Then as a last resort stitched themselves hastily into the searing patchwork.  

“Ding, ding, ding! And we have a winner!”

The slap on his back had Yellow hunching forward, closer to the hands cupping the Black Stone. It throbbed in unison with his own body. Every shadow, every color glistened in a blinding contrast. The very same way Addison had looked that morning after the clouds had parted, leaving only clear skies and the brilliant snow. His heavy breaths were woven into brush strokes painting this vista, one last gift to Arthur before this entity swallowed the entire world. Then he fixed his gaze onto Kayne holding the rock out, waiting for the devil to keep his end of the deal. Everything went sideways and Yellow landed on his ass. It was disorienting as fuck but he felt more at home than he ever did inside Larson’s head. He grazed his fingers across the new scars he was not present for with slight irritation. No matter he would demand the stories later. None seemed to compare to the three from the boat anyway. Wait the boat-

“I give you a ten out of ten. Stellar work truly! So here’s the tip: you remember everything. Honestly I didn’t expect you to be that useful after driving Artie to the brink. Fascinating really how the carrot he had no trouble following after all this time disgusted him when I served it grated. Since he was so difficult I switched to a slightly different brand and you’ll never guess what… He swallowed it hook, line and sinker! Convinced I had indulged his whimsies. It was hilarious!”

His stomach sank as his memories clicked back into place: the office, the hospital, the city under the hotel, the pits, Lily and the sight of Arthur’s dying body falling out of his reach while the King laughed at his naivety. What had followed despite Kayne’s meddling was their own handiwork. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise considering their argument in front of his mural. The bigger threat was never the creatures they encountered down the line but their own stubbornness.

The stone’s power rose into a crescendo sending shivers down his spine. The corridor twisted from the tension it wasn’t made to withstand. No, even had they been out in the open the artifact would have bent the world in the same way. Slowly his ears began to parse out the melody underneath: a wail accompanied by a piano and the sound of rushing water.

“Oh darling, thar tickles! Looks like Daddy’s clock will have a vibrate option, truly a testimony of human progress don’t you think? Huh. Don’t stare at me like I drowned your goldfish. It’s not MY fault you didn’t account for stowaways before handing it over! Anyway time’s up. Farewell Jonagold!”

He didn’t care about the difference between them, the purpose of the stone or how this was the consequences of everyone’s choices. No one took what was his! Not even the Crawling Chaos itself!

The reason he failed and grasped nothing but empty air was ironic: the pathetic leftover vessel who had refused to get his hands dirty.

How stupid! How shocking! How splendid! His roar of laughter bounced off the walls of the blood-stained corridor. It was a stage equal to the basement of 58 Pelican Lane. However he still had to make his own debut.

The malevolent entity wrapped his hands around the man’s throat

and

squeezed.

#malevolent podcast #malevolent fic #malevolent fanfic #malevolent #arthur lester malevolent #john doe malevolent #malevolent spoilers #malevolent s4 spoilers #fanfiction #fanfic #pili writes #mature #horror

[towerofgiraffes]

a while back i asked for destiel fics where castiel punches john winchester in the face and i received the following recs:

Fuck Around and Find Out by lizstiel

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles

It's a Small World (aka the Worst Ride at Disneyland) by ireadhpinenochian

psalm 40:2 by unicornpoe

but this is not nearly enough to satisfy my hunger for castiel punching john winchester in the face. i would like more fics, please.

#destiel #spn #supernatural #dean x castiel #deancas #destiel fic recs #anti-john winchester #castiel #dean winchester #the face punching doesn't need to be literal #it just needs to be a protective confrontation between cas and john in which cas wins #i will probably update this post with future recs if i get anymore

[another-heroine]

Flying Close to the Sun - Part One

A/N: another itch scratched as it should be lol

I was thinking about write a crossover with Ocean like this one for a long time, but I was insecure for many reasons, one of them was my judgement that Ekaterina's traits were not 'sharpen' enough. But here we are.

Thank you, @aelyosos for lending me your pirate lad. I really love his concept and you are one of the sweetest mutuals I ever had.

He must be dead. The ringing inside his ears certainly were Pharasma’s bells. Ocean should know better that sooner or later the Lady of the Graves would get tired of his boldness and catch him. After all, every legend had its end, why would his be different?

“To hell those—” He couldn’t end the phrase. The tiefling rubbed his eyes angrily, feeling the ringing echoing inside his brain. If he could get up, he would bury his head on the wall until that stops or he passes out.

He was so thirsty. At least, his body was laid on a soft mattress… But he didn’t recall that place. Pale curtains were closed, but it was still possible to spot sun rays infiltrating through the thin fabric. There was a rambling outside, with wagon wheels crossing the streets and children shouting. Everything was too bad — and loud — when you were drunk like him. Ocean wanted to puke, but his stomach seemed empty.

Perhaps that was the problem: he was also hungry.

Before he could gather forces to turn his body, the room’s door opened. On instinct, Ocean immediately stood up, his tail snapped over the bedside table and knocked out some souvenirs. The floor was moving under his feet, but he held on, ready for anything — or anyone — that was coming through that door.

But for his astonishment, it wasn’t an angry innkeeper or a voluptuous lover. Actually, it was a woman with copper-colored hair, carrying a bowl. Noticing the tiefling looking at her like he just saw a ghost, she muttered, “Good morning. It’s good to see you awake”.

Ocean didn’t know where to look. She wasn’t mad at him, and he was wearing pants and a shirt. Most probably they didn’t have a one night stand. If he could have a glimpse of what happened last night it would make things less confusing, but everything was a blur…

“Hey, take it easy.” She noticed his stiff body. “You are safe here.”

“But what happened?” he finally said.

She glanced at the small plant pot that he broke, and rested the lidded bowl on the bedside. “You were found unconscious in the streets.”

“Oh.”

It was true, he still remembered the innkeeper shouting at him before kicking him out. But that scene was so common that it could be a false memory.

“And you hit your head.” She pointed to her own.

The man moved his hand to touch his forehead and felt a trail of stitches, from the hairline to the temple. He was still intrigued, but slightly relieved. “Aye, it explains a lot why it hurts…”

She muffled a chuckle. “I daresay it is not only because of the hit. You were drunk as a skunk. And now you can’t even stand up.”

Ocean narrowed his eyes. “Who, me? Of course not, lass. I’m fine and in one piece, I just need to catch my thing—”

The stranger only put one hand on his shoulder and gave a little shove. That was enough for Ocean’s legs to fail for good, and he fell down onto the mattress.

“As I said”, she stated flatly, “No, you are not”. 

The tiefling opened and shutted his mouth, trying to formulate a statement, but soon he gave up and asked, “Bloody hell, who are you? Are you being paid to keep me captive here?”

“Me? Not at all.” She shrugged, taking a chair on the corner of the room. “The Saranrae’s local priests had the worst plans for you, trust me.”

Hearing about those fanatics made his tail curl nervously. They have been more ruthless lately.

“And you are a priest of…”

“No one. It’s just me and the Green Faith.”

Ocean arched his brows. It was unusual. A beautiful woman with a soft demeanor taking him from Saranrae's mad dogs. He had to give in; whoever she was, she saved him, after all.

The pirate sighed, “Aye, I believe ya… But, what’s your name?”

She sat before him and introduced herself, “Ekaterina. Now hold still, I have to clean those stitches”.

He straightened up on the edge of the bed. Ekaterina opened the bowl and a strong scent of lavender filled the room. She rolled up her sleeves, revealing curious blue tattoos and started her task.

While she was taking care of his forehead, Ocean couldn’t help but think that there was something odd on her. He couldn’t tell if that was one of the hangover side effects, but Ekaterina was… glowing. She was very pale, although had a pinkish alive undertone, but also there was a golden shine coming from her. And despite the cold room, her hands were very warm.

Suddenly, one thing connected to another.

“You are an aasimar.”

She smiled, amused. “You have a good perception for someone tipsy.”

“I’m not tipsy,” he grumbled. “And I just thought out loud, sorry. It didn’t mean to sound rude.”

“No offenses taken.”

Definitely she didn’t give a damn about his suspicions. Actually, she looked very concentrated while taking care of his stitches.

Probably because she knows how to cut somebody open as well. He swallowed hard.

Ocean continued, “But… I thought that every aasimar had metal colored eyes. And yours are like… an icy sea?”

They were not golden or silvery. Her irises were so pale that it was impossible to spot her pupils, if she had any at all. Ekaterina looked amused with his observations, and replied without turning her focus from his wounds, “Well, maybe I’m one of a kind. Not every tiefling has red skin, too, you know?”

That was one of few moments when he was grateful for not blushing easily. Ocean nodded, embarrassed. “Fair.”

They remained silent. He almost couldn’t catch her touching, or the suture being adjusted. Ocean was still feeling sick, but the lavender smell calmed his nerves slowly.

“I didn’t ask yet, but what’s your name?”

She broke the silence, squeezing the handkerchief over the bowl. They were almost done, and he felt his heart getting small.

“Ocean.”

“I suppose that you are not from Mendev either.” She stared at him.

He looked around, like there were more people there. “Who else isn’t?”

“Me.” She shook her head and got up.

The tiefling grimaced. “Seriously? What a lass like you are doing in a town like this?”

Ekaterina giggled. “I ask myself every day. But… it’s better than my homeland.” She peeked through the curtains. “I don’t know how long you are here in Kenabres or if you plan to stay longer, but be careful. Lately things are getting hard for anyone who doesn’t look… decent.”

Ocean scoffed, “Do you mean, people who look like demons?”

“Likewise. They are searching for witches and all sorts of outcasts as well.”

He lowered his eyes and pondered. “And you risked your life for me. Why?”

“I can’t just watch people being kicked and walk away like it was nothing!” She frowned.

Ocean took a deep breath and got up. “I owe you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No, no, I mean it,” he chuckled, raising a finger. “ 'specially when a beautiful lass saves my arse!”

Ekaterina looked at him with curiosity. Afterwards, she shook her head. “It sounds like you are getting back to normal. That’s great.”

Ocean smiled back. Being friends with that aasimar would be interesting.

#pwotr pals #I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR #FIGHT ME #ekaterina grushankaya #mooties' ocs #mooties' crossovers

[jamiesfootball]

a drabble for #7?

“Can you feel this?”

Light glinted off metal.

'Only the phantom sensation of pressure at a distance.' That's how Beard would have liked to respond, if Dr. Buddy's hand wasn't pressed up against the roof of his mouth.

The situation being what it was, he settled for a cordial, "Uh-uh."

"Good. Good. That's what I love to hear," said Dr. Buddy, smiling with eyes and likely a mouth underneath the face mask. He handed the dental pick to his assistant. His thumb stayed hooked on Beard's mouth. "Now you just let me know if we need a break, you hear? Any discomfort that comes up, let me know straight away. Raise your hand up if you need me to stop."

Prison had reset Beard's tolerance for discomfort, but sitting in the leaned-back dental chair, a precipitously high wave a nausea threatened to make landfall. Accompanying it were persistent tremors in his fingers and a dry mouth, and tunneling vision to round out the quartet. Had Ted told him ahead of time where they were going, Beard would have jumped out of the moving vehicle to join the errant cows of the field who didn't yet know that they were livestock.

All things considered, Willis Beard was experiencing a typical level of comfort, solidly below the baseline of what he could endure.

He offered the dentist a thumbs up, and the hand that hitched Beard's arm to the chair gave him a reassuring squeeze.

The dental assistant handed Buddy a corded instrument.

While Beard's ears began ringing like a tornado siren on a clear day, Buddy picked up on their prior conversation with, "I'm not sure, Ted. I still think Vermeil screwed the pooch last year. Should'a stayed retired if you asked me."

"Oh ye' of little faith," Ted responded. Beard didn't need eyes or mouth to know when Ted was smiling. "I thought he whipped them boys into pretty good shape last year. It's rough starting out fresh, these things take time."

College may have been a life left behind in the rearview mirror, but Beard could swear that once upon a time Ted's Ted-isms didn't clock overtime carrying the weight of all the baggage booked between them. Or maybe they had. Maybe every one of their elbowing, crushed conversations under stadiums of lights, kicking heels at each other while they waited for second string to get its call, maybe all of those moments had always been a guise for the gentle hand reaching out underneath, and Beard had been too tone-deaf to notice.

He'd been experimenting with a lot of MDMA at the time so he supposed he'd never know. Too bad no one had ever made a future in fixing maybes.

Ted tried to lasso the dentist onto his side. "C'mon, pal. You ain't ever heard of second chances?"

Finally the thumb prying him open let go of his mouth. Beard stretched his jaw out, making a show of it while he bid his time. He'd need every deep inhale for this next part.

Buddy fiddled with his glove, pulling the rubber tight over a bulky status watch, the kind that made a regular man feel wealthy but wouldn't fetch much in a pinch.

The dental assistant placed a stacked tray before him, all sharps and gauze. Dr. Buddy picked up another poker. "How about you, Beard? Who do you favor for the playoffs?"

"The Buccaneers."

"Hah!" Buddy scoffed. "Now that's a longshot. I'll give you that one, Ted; the Chiefs have a better shot of making it to the playoffs than the Bucs ever will. Those bookies down in Vegas, they're printing money saying otherwise. No siree, it doesn't matter how good the odds are. They've got no experience keeping their heads up under pressure."

Ted hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe. Everybody loves a longshot, though. And hell, who doesn't love a pirate?"

"Captain Fear," Beard added.

"You're both nuts," lamented Buddy, shaking his head.

"I don't know about that, Buddy," said Ted with a smile as wide as the sign out front. "After all, the game's not over 'til it's over. Chiefs, pirates—as long as the team keeps trying, we'll keep rooting, and sooner or later all that effort's going to pay off. Might take a little time and a little luck, but it'll happen."

"We'll see about that. Alright, gentlemen, enough of the small talk. Time to let her fly."

Beard white-knuckled his grip on the chair. Ted's hand tightened on his forearm, holding him steady. He was ready. Ready steady.

Loosely based on this post

#coach beard #ted lasso #dentist cw #ask box is always open #writing bits #thank you anon!

[iwillgodownwiththisship918]

One of my favorite lines from a story

"Dean fucked around and converted Cas to freedom, and now Cas uses it to love him without shame."

-Sobsicles

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith - sobsicles - Supernatural [Archive of Our Own]

#destiel #deancas #fix it fic #post canon

[fellshish]

Very serious question.... Do you have more completed fics with this plot 👀

https://www.tumblr.com/eleonkraken/738071954437832704

( every six months I have to read 10 spn fics in a row to fix myself)

This is so difficult. I gotta admit that even the fic i recced on the post was not exactlyyyyyy widower dean in the strict sense but he IS in my mind. And also it’s an absolute top tier fic so just to repeat my rec:

Right where you left me by outdean: cas comes back from the empty and finds dean married…. To a man. When i tell you this fic was an EVENT when it was still posting. We memed about it!

I looked through my bookmarks for more. This is a REALLY specific premise though so none of them fit exactly but maybe these are also your vibe.

By the same author: peace came upon me, which has dean maturing a lot. Dean goes to an AA meeting a year after cas’ death.

Dean and cas reunite in heaven in Oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles. Kind of…. Dean creating his own community in heaven? Sobsicles is a god of course.

I feel like dean’s definitely gone through a change in there is rest for the wicked by fleeceframe. I am once again stretching the prompt to fit fics i love

Blackwater lakes by kathscradle is probably a bit far from what the post is talking about but i really liked how this focused on cas’ personal growth after he comes back.

Sorry, you probably already know most of these. I hope people can add more recs to this post…

#destiel #destiel fic recs #my asks