#they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile

[ehlnofay]

It’s not until she hears Sissel’s knees hit the floor that Efri is jolted back into her body.

She blinks, whipping her head around. Sissel is kneeling, bracing a palm on the ancient stone pavement, at the barrier – no, the barrier’s gone, it’s just Sissel on the floor. She lifts her head and meets Efri’s eyes; her hair is wispy and wild, the little plaits meant to keep it neat come loose and tumbling, her eyes wide. The barrier's gone, but still, her pale face is lit up blue.

“Are you okay?” she asks. She doesn’t speak loudly, but it echoes in the great stone chamber.

Nine, Efri doesn’t know.

She blinks again, looks down at her hands, clinging to the metal stick so fiercely that her joints ache. (Her own stick, her nice wooden one, is still on the floor somewhere, where it slipped out of her grasp when she hit the wall.) The lumpy heavy end of it, the clobbering end, is still resting on –

Not on. It’s in the thing’s head, fitted neatly in the opening of its dented helmet, the horns spiralling over the floor. There’s a tooth, perfectly preserved, by Efri’s foot.

One by one, she unwraps her gloved fingers from the handle of the metal stick, letting it drop to the floor with a clang so loud it makes her wince. Kazari is nosing at her side. (When did they let go of it? When did they get so close? She must have missed that. She feels out of the loop. Her heart is juddering like fish on a line, battering like some frightened trapped thing at her ribcage, and her breath is coming fast and heavy.) Absentmindedly bringing up a hand to press over her sore shoulder, she says, “’M fine. Not too – barely touched me.”

Kazari turns and spits on the floor. Efri blinks. She does it again, tongue lolling out of her mouth, face very disgruntled – and oh, Efri gets it. She does not glance down at the thing at her feet; she doesn’t need to, she knows what its arm looks like, chewed almost to pieces even through its banded armour. (If she hadn’t been so busy being scared of it, that sight might have made her a bit scared of Kazari. But not now, when they’re trying to hack and spit the taste of dead man arm out of their mouth.)

Efri unclips her canteen from her belt and holds it out. “Here,” she says. Her voice is rough. Her heart is racing too much to let constructing sentences be easy. “Not much, but –”

Kazari stands still while Efri tips half of the remaining water onto her tongue, and then Efri watches her swilling it around in her mouth, trying to bathe all of her teeth in it, before she spits it again on the floor at the dead thing’s feet.

The water is still clear. That’s something, at least; the dead man was too old to still have blood in him. Or maybe he was embalmed, drained of it hundreds of years ago, thousands.

“Are you okay?” Efri asks Kazari when they’re done, because they were the one doing most of the fighting, who was closest. They tip their head, shift their weight – wince when they put weight on one foot. Their lips peel back from their teeth. Their clothes on that side are singed.

Efri points it out. “Your robe,” she says, which makes it sound much fancier than it is. She’s too tired to think of a better word. She rubs a hand over her face, pushing the hair back over her forehead, says, “I’ll reinforce it for you when we get out.”

Kazari noses at Efri’s shoulder – the shredded fabric of her dress, the fraying edges stained with blood. Efri says, “I know. I’ll have to sew that up too.” Over her shoulder, she calls, “Kazari’s leg’s hurt, I think.”

“There’s blood on you,” Sissel replies. She peels her hand off the floor and leans back on her heels.

Efri touches her shoulder again. “’S fine,” she says. “Just a scrape. The blood’s drying already.”

It’s really sore, actually – the flesh abraded and tender, an ache sinking deep into the muscle – but it’s normal sore, the kind of sore you really should be after being thrown into a wall. It doesn’t feel sprained or dislocated or anything like that.  Just like it will be bruised a whole rainbow of colours come tomorrow.

Kazari noses at it again. She leans too far forward and falters on her maybe-hurt leg – rights herself, wincing, and rolls her shoulder. It gleams, just for a moment, and she nearly stumbles again. Efri puts out a hand to steady her. (It doesn’t really accomplish anything – Efri’s strong, but she’s not that strong – but it’s the principle of it.) “What was that spell?”

“Pain relief,” Sissel says from behind her. “I think. Doesn’t actually fix anything, but.”

“You’ll be okay ‘til we find someone?” Efri asks, and Kazari nods. She presses a hand against their shoulder and nods back.

They both turn to look at Sissel, then, who’s just kneeling on the floor, sitting on her heels.

“You all right?” Efri asks her.

“All right,” Sissel confirms. She doesn’t look at them. “Didn’t even come near me.”

She’s staring.

Efri crosses the floor to stand with her. (She needs to lean on Kazari – her legs are too wobbly, and she doesn’t want to touch the dead thing’s stick, doesn’t want to look for her own. Kazari limps a little on their sore front leg.) There’s a moment of total, humming silence – all of them still and staring, necks craned back, looking up at the thing.

Whatever it is.

It’s a ball. Big and blue and shimmering, it floats above a wide crystalline dish set into the floor, spinning on an axis. Just spinning and spinning and spinning, endless motion. Its smooth surface is cut through with dark wavering lines, etched with lettering, and it doesn’t quite glow but it doesn’t not glow, either, the light moving across it silkily, like clouds in a blue sky. It looks like something that should be humming – a low pitch in their ears, an eerie shiver dancing over their skin – but it’s silent. Inert, maybe, but for the spinning.

“What is it?” Efri asks. Her voice cracks as she speaks. She looks down at Sissel’s face, staring as though mesmerised, illuminated by the room’s dim lighting – the fires that should not still be burning down here, the luminous not-glow of the ball.

Sissel says, “I don’t know. Something important.”

Hovering above the dish, it spins, and spins, and spins.

“Is it what the ghost was talking about?” Efri asks. She tilts her head and squints at it. It doesn’t – well, it looks strange and unearthly and powerful, but it isn’t doing anything. And it hadn’t been clear what the ghost was talking about, exactly, according to Sissel, just that it was something important – but what else could it be?

Sissel, still watching it, shrugs. “I don’t know,” she says. “I think so.”

Efri watches it with her, brushing a bit more hair out of her face. It’s sticking to her sweaty forehead. She feels a drip of not-dry blood running down her arm under her sleeve.

Kazari is staring at it too – just as confounded as the rest of them. Efri sees the light in their irises shifting as the ball spins.

They’re not learning anything from staring, the ball staying strange and mysterious as ever, so Efri raps her knuckles against her sternum to steady her breathing (it’s slowed a bit – not normal, but closer to it) and climbs up onto the stone rimming of the dish. Kazari, behind her, lows in consternation; Sissel catches her breath, a noise like a creaking door. “Careful,” she says.

“Promise,” Efri replies, and places her feet very, very carefully on the glassy blue flooring. Nothing happens. She doesn’t step on the dark curved lines as she treads toward the ball in the centre, slow and wary as if she were approaching a skittish animal. Nothing happens.

She reaches out, and, with just the tips of her fingers, she grazes the ball’s surface.

Nothing happens.

It’s cool to the touch, and smooth, like polished metal or not-frozen ice or delicate glasswork. It continues to spin gently under her fingers, warming her glove with friction, no smudges left on its clouded face.

 It really feels like there should at least be a tingle running up her arm, a strange and unfamiliar current, a spark. But it’s just Efri, standing with an arm outstretched, pressing her hand to a ball.

“It’s not doing anything,” she reports, and Sissel clambers up onto the dish with her, fitting her palm to its gently hovering underside. Kazari balks, begins pacing agitatedly. Efri frowns. “Why isn’t it doing anything? Shouldn’t it be doing something?”

“It’s important,” Sissel says definitively. There’s ancient dust on her fingers, but none of it seems to transfer. “It’s something really special, I think.”

Efri shifts restlessly. She shifts her grip and tries to grab onto the dark ridged curves ringing its surface, but they slip easily away from her grasp as though her touch was no barrier at all. “But what does it do?”

Sissel shrugs.

Behind them, Kazari lows.

Efri drops her hand and grabs Sissel’s wrist. “C’mon,” she says, and when Sissel frowns at her, “We’re not going to learn anything about it this way. We have to look for clues!”

Kazari makes a more impatient noise. (Efri thinks she found a clue.)

Sissel gives the ball one last searching look and lets Efri tug her away, off the weird blue dish and down to where Kazari stands on the stone floor, at the head of the table where the dead man sat. Efri sniffs loudly and tries not to think about it too much. The table is smooth polished stone, worn a little away with time; Efri trails a gloved finger over the edge and directs her attention to where Kazari points with their chin.

There’s something carved into the surface, the edges blunted and shapes softened by however many years it must have been since it was put there. Efri squints, trying to make it out. She has to stand right up on her tiptoes to get the right angle to see much of it in full.

“That’s not letters,” she says eventually, frowning. She’s pretty sure she knows her alphabet well enough by now to know that. “Is it magic?”

Sissel shakes her head. “I don’t know what it is. It’s not like magical writing I’ve ever seen.”

Efri looks at Kazari, who also shakes her head. “Maybe it’s a different sort of lettering,” she theorises. It must have been written a long time ago, if it’s from back when the city had people. Onmund’s been reading all about it for ages, and he’s told her a bit – Saarthal was the city of Atmorans, populated by proto-Nordic people. All complicated history stuff. But they weren’t quite the same as Nords today, he said, so it stands to reason they had different writing, too. They’re supposed to be uncovering and cataloguing artifacts (at the thought, Efri glances back at the hovering ball and swallows an inane bubble of laughter) so she suggests, “Maybe you can copy it and we can show it to someone. I’m sure there’ll be someone at the College what knows what it is.”

Sissel, also standing on her toes, nods dutifully. “What will you do?”

The chamber they’re in is cavernous, and about empty but for the ball in the dish, the altar and chair, the body on the ground. “I’ll check him,” she says, and points. “See if he has anything on him that’s special.”

Sissel follows her finger and grimaces.

She digs out her note-paper and her stick of char, and Efri assumes it’s clues time, but when she turns she feels a hand grip her elbow. She looks back over her tattered shoulder at Sissel’s face, her furrowed brow.

“Promise you’re really okay?” she says, voice anxious and solemn.

“Promise,” Efri says, twisting her arm to touch her friend’s hand. Sissel presses her lips together and lets go of her arm.

Kazari trails after Efri to look at the dead man.

First thing is the metal stick. It’s magic someway, Efri knows – he waved it and threw her into a wall, flung spells with it – but she’s not sure how. Doesn’t know enough about enchantments. Didn’t need to, to use it; when Kazari clamped down on his arm she just ripped it from his grasp and –

She doesn’t quite exactly remember, actually, except for the bitter tang of adrenaline in her mouth and nose, the horrible grunting and scuffling sounds, the heft of the stick in her hands. Impact, over and over and over, against something that had a little more give each time.

Efri scrubs a hand over her mouth and grips the handle of the stick. It takes effort to wrest it out of the thing’s face, caught as it is by the edges of the helmet, and when it’s finally yanked free it’s – actually not as bad as she might have expected. There’s no blood, and the corpse was so desiccated it already didn’t even really look like a person anymore, so it registers less as someone with horrible violence done to it and more as a really gross art piece. It’s not nice. She doesn’t like the twisted, gaping mouth, teeth embedded wrong-ways in its tissue and scattered like coins over the floor. And one of the eyes, which had glowed unearthly blue, is now a dull, rotten black, squished like a plum in its socket.

It's worse the more she looks. She sniffs and turns away.

“This is magic, right?” she asks Kazari, testing the weight of it in her hands, the cool surface of the metal, and they nod. “A good artifact?” she adds, and they nod again, emphatically. Efri sets the stick aside and kneels.

It wasn’t wearing any clothes, really – or if it was, they rotted away. She touches the rusted armour gingerly, tries to avoid brushing her gloves against the shrivelled skin at all. Whoever it was had expensive taste, it seems – there’s jewellery in a shockingly well-preserved beard, pendants around the neck, armbands. Efri asks Kazari if each thing is enchanted. No to the armbands, no to the beard-ring, and then, pressed against the wizened chest where the flesh contours to the ribs, she finds some kind of necklace, sharp-edged and thrumming. Kazari nods to that, and, face scrunched up like an old fruit, Efri reaches around the ancient neck to slip it off.

She tucks it into a belt pocket with the tripwire necklace they found at the weird wall.

“Done,” Sissel says. She folds her paper and slips it into her own pouch. Her footfalls on the echo-y stone floor as she approaches the body for the first time are almost silent. “Did you find anything?”

“Necklace,” Efri replies, watching Sissel’s face pinch at the sight of him. “And – stick.” She scoops up the metal stick and holds it out. “He did spells with it.”

Sissel looks at it warily. “Is he a draugr?” she asks, glancing back down at his mashed-up face.

“I mean,” Efri says, “he’s got to be, right?” She’s certainly never seen a draugr before, but what else could it be?

(Calling it a draugr makes her shiver, the set of her shoulders quaking. She’ll stick to dead man.)

Sissel shudders. She reaches out to grip the handle of the stick, and Efri’s not sure if she’s taking it or just trying to keep herself upright. “I can’t believe that happened,” she says. Her voice sounds, suddenly, fragile. “I can’t believe we’re alive.”

“Me neither,” Efri says. She presses the tip of the stick into the ground so Sissel can lean on it, stands a little unsteadily.

Kazari, with a hushed murmur, telegraphs something. Efri recognises the head incline of understanding – she’s familiar with that word, that idea – and, after a moment, the flickering ear of doubt.

“They’ll have to believe us,” she says with conviction, because she means it. “We’ll show them. They’ll see for themselves.”

Kazari presses their nose to her head.

Efri clasps her hands together. “We’ll go tell someone now,” she declares – though it’s easier said than done; they were lost in the ruins ages before they even found the crumbling wall, the halls, this horrible wonderful chamber. But they’ll get un-lost eventually. They’ll get out eventually. Surely. They have practice enough with walking. “But first – help me find my stick.”

#little girl has a kill count now!! more at 11 #for context: I altered stuff leading up to the discovery of the eye #efri and sissel went off to play in the undiscovered halls of this ancient archeological dig site #on the grounds that efri has a great sense of navigation and they'll find their way back to the group no problem. #(efri has a great sense of navigation in the wilderness.) #(introduce her to a series of roads and buildings and she is lost in the sauce.) #their friends split up to look for them after they've been missing from a while (wandering around with great interest and no sense of place #(incredibly lost) #kazari happens upon them right as they've found a necklace at the end of a dead-end passageway that - when dutifully grabbed #for archeological research purposes - ended up triggering the wall to crumble or disappear or otherwise remove itself from the equation #and efri wasn't going to just. LEAVE that opening there. #come ONN kazari that's weird!! we can't just leave it!! what if it closes up and we never ever find it again and there's incredible secrets #that the college never finds! what if we never know what's through there! #we HAVE to know what's through there! #so on they go. #and so ensue the horrors #they pass a lot of dead bodies before the main all but those ones are all immobile #also sissel is the only one to receive the psijic projection warning. which she explains to the others as a ghost telling her secrets #which efri accepts bc this seems like the kind of place that would for sure have ghosts #and kazari goes sure that tracks this place is fucking creepy can we leave now (<- is also curious but HAS to put on a show of reluctance #because clearly no-one else is going to) #(permanent babysitter of kids with the worst self-preservation instincts imaginable) #(she is so strong. living every childcare worker's nightmare) #ANYWAY #:D #normal type stuff #posting because it matches the artwork I'm also posting! look at that thing!!! #fay writes #oc tag #efri

[lebenspurpur]

idk how and why this came to me but dilf Vincent (when I talk about pregnancy I mean an afab reader but as soon as that's over, the hc's can be read as a gender-neutral reader. also this is not proofread.)

NSFW below cut:

Usually, Vincent would hate the idea of having his own biological children or any children, really. He has way too many worries about that. What if you give birth to conjoined twins? What if he will be just like his parents? He still lives in a town made of dead people, that's not a safe environment for a child!

However, Vincent has a giant breeding kink. As soon as he sees your tummy swell, he's just animalistic. Now, no one has a stronger claim on you than him. Whenever Bo or Lester spend an evening with the two of you, he can't help the pride coursing through him. You're his partner, carrying his child. It's like he left a mark on you, and he loves it.

The birth will be a little terrifying for him. The amount of pain you're going through and the fact that he can't help you is enough to make him break down. Yet he stays with you, he holds your hand, and he starts sobbing when the infant is born, and you can finally rest.

Omg and while you're sleeping through your, well-deserved, nap he just carries his child around, just walking in circles in the room you're in. He's just starstruck. This tiny human being, this living thing, is something you, and he, created. Don't mind him, he's just gonna cry again.

When you wake up, you'll just be greeted with the sight of Vincent sauntering around, cooing at the little one while they grab his fingers. You swear you've never seen him this alive before.

And god, he is so proud of you. You made this tiny being, you went through so much shit to create his, your child. He didn't think he could love you anymore, but apparently, he can.

I feel like Vincent isn't even going to complain about having to change diapers or waking up in the middle of the night. He deals with way worse than diapers (even though they are gross) and his sleeping schedule is fucked anyway. Plus, nothing calms him more than just going for a walk with the tiny one. He rests their head on his chest, and then he just strolls through the house, humming slightly, so they will fall asleep again.

He even takes his mask off. Reason number one: The child is way too strong and if they keep grabbing the max, it will break or look terrible. Reason number two: You showed him the still face experiment, and now he's terrified of traumatizing his child because of the mask. Seeing him smile at the infant in his arms while he puts it to sleep never fails to make you fall in love all over again.

If you worry about your body after the pregnancy, Vincent will absolutely soothe those worries. He even thinks you've grown more attractive as a parent. There are definitely times when he calls you a dilf/milf in front of Bo or Lester, just to tease you. He means it, though, even if he is smirking like the little bastard he is.

And then the child grows older and older, and Vincent is more content with every day that passes. He shows them how to draw, how to paint, they go fishing with Uncle Bo and hiking with Jonesy and Uncle Lester, and he loves all of it.

And while he loves his new life, there is one flaw. Having a child means giving up free time that you could spend with your partner.

After a while, he gets so pent-up that just a hug could get him going. Afternoons are spent just creating thick sexual tension because you've cooked together in the kitchen. The both of you are relieved when Bo and Lester finally take the child for a few hours. Vincent is literally pouncing on you as soon as the main door closes. And trust me, he will use the entirety of these few hours.

Also, massages. The stressful day as a parent sure leads to a lot of sore spots in your back, and it's Vincent's job to tenderly soothe those muscles of yours. He grows really into it and the more experienced he gets, the more you're looking forward to it. Even if the sexual tension is a problem here too.

He spends more time outside, too. In the afternoons you can watch him and the child play in the garden and the picture never fails to paint a smile on your lips. You feel so content with him, with your child. With your family.

#dilf!Vincent Sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #slasher x reader #slashers #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #vincent sinclair x you #smut #smut and fluff #slasher headcanons

[futureslaps]

The Captive - Chapter 3

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Hi everyone 💙

Only one main POV in this chapter (with a mini-Jake POV).  I had a lot written and didn’t want to post a massive chapter compared to the others, I want to keep the length fairly consistent. Thankfully, this means the next chapter is practically half-done.

Enjoy!

Since he’d woken up, Quaritch had made an effort to keep his mind occupied. For some time, he searched anywhere he could reach, trying to find a weakness in his prison’s design; a loose section in the wall, a forgotten tool, maybe a rock he could use to work away at his bindings. But Sully had done his job well, and the hut was completely devoid of anything not dedicated to keeping him where he was. Even his vest, which had contained various emergency tools for such a situation, was gone. As was most of his equipment. He’d been left with nothing but his undershirt and pants.

Once his escape plans had been foiled, and when it became clear his death wasn’t imminent, Quaritch switched his focus to passing the time. After all he was clearly meant to be here for the long haul.

He’d briefly attempted some exercises, but his wounds and tightly bound legs made that a non-starter.

Eventually he settled on counting the rings on the tree the hut was structured around and trying to catch various sounds from the outside. It was mind numbing but still something.

Eventually, despite his efforts, thoughts on how absolutely fucked he was started to creep in. As far as he knew, he was presumed dead by the RDA. None of his squad had been left on the ship in those final moments, and he doubted the RDA was eager to launch another ship into enemy territory to recover the wreck and bodies from the last…

And then there was the matter of Spider. When he first woke up, he’d been primarily concerned with Spiders well-being. He still was, but as the hours passed, he began to feel the actual lack of Spider’s presence more and more.

As far as he could tell, at least a full day had passed since the battle. He’d never been away from Spider this long since they’d met in the jungle all those months ago, and the more time he spent alone in the damp, stuffy shack, the more he missed having the kid around.

He missed that bright, genuine smile Spider briefly flashed when he was happy. He missed the passion he had whenever he was explaining something about life on Pandora. Hell, he even missed Spider’s sass and insults, the ones that somehow made him both irksome and endearing.

He grinned in the half-dark as he remembered a few of Spider’s “greatest hits”. Goddamn, he didn’t know when let himself become such a sap when it came to the kid. It pissed him off a bit, but he didn’t mind too much.  

If he ever got out of here…

“Let me through.”

Quaritch quickly recomposed himself as he heard a familiar voice behind the flap that served as the hut’s door.

Sully

Quaritch steeled himself. Was this it? If it was, he wasn’t going down without a fight, however weak it may be.

The flap lifted and Sully stepped through, holding a pair of bowls in his hands. And if looks could kill, face Sully wore would have easily sent Quaritch back to hell.

The two men stared at each other for a moment, each trying to put as much contempt into their face as they could.

“Quaritch.” Jake broke the silence.

“Sully. It’s about time you showed up, I was starting to get bored.”

Sully looked like he was about to say something, but bit his lip, and placed the two bowls down in front of the bars. One held water, the other some kind of stew.

Food and water? What the hell?

“What’s this Sully? Trying to fatten me up before the slaughter?”

“You will have food and water while you are kept here.” Sully replied almost robotically, clearly trying to keep himself in check.

“Speaking of here, would you mind telling me why you decided to ‘graciously’ spare my life and dump me in this shithole instead?” Quaritch said, intently keeping his eyes focused on Sully. Truthfully, he wanted the food and especially the water, but there’s no way he was letting Sully know that.

Sully visibly sighed, then spoke, trying to keep his voice level.

“When you surrendered on the Sea Dragon, you asked Eywa’s mercy. As a surrendered warrior, you could not be killed, by Eywa’s laws.”

Surrendered? Asking for mercy?

Hearing Sully describe him like that enraged Quaritch, but he held his tongue for now. He still had to know more about his situation.

“So has your Eywa god commanded you to keep me in jail?”

“Only until your trial.”

Quaritch’s breath hitched at the words.

Trial?

You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“A trial? What trial?” Quaritch responded, his rage starting to seep into his words.

“13 days from now, when the monthly cycle ends, you will be brought before the Na’vi people and judged for your crimes against them, and Eywa.”

With that, Quaritch couldn’t hide his rage anymore.

“Oh, it’s not enough for you to beat me, is it Sully? Now you want to parade me in front of all the blue bastards in town?! You going to tar and feather me before you chop my head off?!”

“You are being shown respect by being granted a trial!” Sully hissed, his own rage bubbling. “Respect you don’t deserve, but Eywa grants you anyways!”

“You should have killed me on that ship Sully.” Quaritch spat. “Spared me the humiliation. But I guess you’re more of a maniac than I thought.”

“I would have Quaritch, believe me.” Said Jake, collecting himself as he turned to leave.

As he watched the other man turn, a thought forced its way into the front of Quaritch’s mind.

Spider

He had to know something.

Before he had time to think, he spoke.

“How are the kids, Sully?” He cringed internally as soon as the rushed words left his mouth.

(…)

Jake stopped midway across the hut’s forward half.

Huh?

Was Quaritch trying to goad him over Neteyam? The way he had spoken made the question sound … almost sincere? Why would Quaritch care about any of his kids?

Jake wasn’t going to stand here and ask himself those questions now, though. Not with Quaritch behind him.

“They’re all fine, Quaritch. No thanks to you.”

Jake knew it wasn’t exactly true, but he wasn’t about to discuss his family’s issues with his worst enemy.

He covered the rest of the distance to the door and quickly left.

(…)

Quaritch caught a glimpse of the outside world as he watched Sully leave. It was sunset, there was a beach, a village…

The canvas flap locked him back into the hut’s world.

He lay on his back and let out a long sigh. He had a lot to think about.

Goddamn traitorous asshole. Thinks he’s high and mighty with his “Eywa” and “trials”.

So, he had an expiration date. He didn’t know what this so-called “trial” implied, but it couldn’t be anything good. He had no doubt what judgement he’d get, and he had no doubt what would happen to him after.

13 days to live. No hope of rescue…

Quaritch reminded himself not to focus to much on his prospects. The last thing he wanted was to go crazy and be led to his death as a lunatic.

The rest of the conversation…

He cringed again over his stupid final question. He’d sounded like he’d lost the plot. What the hell was he thinking?

Maybe he’s going crazy already.

At least he knew Spider wasn’t locked up like him, he assumed Sully would have let him know if he was. Quaritch knew Spider though, and very much doubted he was “fine”. He’d seen Spider when he was “fine” before. On the Sea Dragon during the village raids. In the jungle. It wasn’t good. He felt the urge to talk with Spider, as if he wasn’t so close yet so far.

As he turned his attention to the food Sully had left, he wished more than before ever he could see Spider again, even for just a moment.

Things are certainly not fine for anyone in this story at the moment ☹️. 

I’m overjoyed at the response this has gotten so far. I’m not a huge writer by any means, so this truly means so much to me! 🥺 Thank you to everyone who has read!

#avatar the way of water #recom quaritch #avatar 2 #spider socorro #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar jake #avatar kiri #atwow

[itssmfklilyevans]

𝙒𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙?

heyy, first one-shot of mine! diving in immediately with a sad one, so prepare for the feels!

i'm not a native English speaker, so please help me with any incorrect spelling!

requests are welcome :)

word count: 2k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem!reader, angst, main character death, crying, dead bodies, guilt, mentions of PDA and food

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: during the first wizarding war's battle at hogwarts, Sirius gets the worst news of his life.

╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝

Sprinting through the hallways with a heavy heart and a racing mind, Sirius Black caught a few glances. None were weird though, there were many people frantically running through the building at the time. The First Wizarding War had begun. Tom Riddle, now also called Voldemort or You-Know-Who, had picked Hogwarts as his starting battle. The students there had not been prepared to fight, and lots had passed. But they did not give up.

Betrayal was everywhere. In the air, in the blood on the floors, in people's eyes. Purebloods had joined their families, or turned them away. Muggleborns were most targeted. One of those muggleborns was Y/N Y/L/N. Sirius' first girlfriend.

They had met long before all this. The memories were surely faint, but they were there.

ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ:

"Why, hello there. Any chance you can spare a place here?"

I looked up from my book to see a boy with long dark hair standing in the doorway of the compartment on the Hogwarts Express. "Well, as you can see no one's sitting here, so sure." "Thank you." He sat in front of me and extended his hand. "Sirius Black. What's your name?" I sighed and put the book away to shake his hand. "Y/N Y/L/N." "Suits you. I've never heard of the Y/L/Ns though." "True. 'M a muggleborn. Hope it doesn't chance your opinion of me." He looked at me with a strange stare when the door opened again.

Three other boys stood there, one with glasses, one with a scar over his nose and one very short compared to the others. It was quiet for a moment while the boy with glasses looked around. "D'you mind? Everywhere else is completely full." Before I can answer, Sirius speaks up. "Sure, why not?"

That was the beginning of a long and exhausting journey through school.

"Gryffindor!"

As soon as the old and beaten up hat yelled out Sirius' house, his face went pale. He quickly stood up, put the hat back on the chair and almost ran to the Gryffindor table. From my place infront of the hall I turned around to look at him, and he met my gaze. "'S okay." I mouthed to him, and he gave me a weak smile.

On the train, while getting to know eachother and James, Remus and Peter, he accidentally slipped how he wished to be in Slytherin. When we asked why, he told us the story of his parents, and how they would never approve of him if his house wasn't Slytherin, and Gryffindor would practically be the worst of them all.

I was so lost in thought that I almost didn't hear my name being called. I shot up from my chair and marched over to the hat. It only took seconds to yell:

"Gryffindor!"

Happy to be put in the same house as Sirius, I quickly walked over to the table, the shouts and yells of happiness coming from it only in the background.

I plopped on my seat next to Sirius and watched as the other boys in our compartment were also sorted into Gryffindor. I instantly facepalmed as James tripped and almost fell down the steps. He sat next to me and bumped my shoulder. I shook my head at him jokingly. Sirius laughed and clapped him on the back. A moment to never forget.

"MR. POTTER AND MR. BLACK!"

Over the year, that yell had become quite familiar. I sighed and shrunk into my chair in the common room a little bit further. I knew about the prank Sirius and James had planned this time. They called it their 'end of the year blast', sort of like when you graduate, only they take literally every opportunity to celebrate with a prank.

I watched amused as McGonagall stomped into the common room, steam almost coming out of her ears. "You there! Y/L/N!" My eyes widened. "I didn't do anything!" "I'm not accusing you, I'm asking where they are!" "Sirius and James?" "YES! Where are they?!" "Sorry professor, haven't seen them." She narrowed her eyes at me. She wasn't usually very fond of the boy's pranks, but this time was really bad.

"So you did not know anything about those boys changing multiple of the tiles on the ground into spiders and horrifying multiple students?"

I accidentally snorted, recalling the incident.

"Y/L/N!" "Sorry miss, I was only there to watch, and I have no idea where the boys are. I can tell you one thing: they aren't here. Maybe try the kitchens?" She sighed. "Already checked it. And the lavatories, and the Great Hall, and any of the hallways." "How about the library?" And with that she was off.

I close my book. "Thanks Y/M/N (your marauders name), couldn't have done it without you!" Sirius whisper-yelled as he and James tumbled out of their dorm. I smiled and watched them run off, secretly knowing this would happen more and more often.

ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ:

"Y/M/N! Blimey, you've changed!"

I turned around on the station and saw Remus looking at me. "Hi Moony! How was your summer?" "Nice, warm, mostly spent at Prongs' house. How about you?" Before I can answer I'm cut off by James, Sirius and Peter falling into the conversation. "Y/M/N! What on Earth happened to you?" Sirius questions me. "Hello Pads, summer happened." I say calmly. "Anyways, as I was saying. I went to Italy with my family." "Nice! How was it there?" "Really hot, but I loved the culture so much! And don't even get me started on the food..." As I drifted away talking to Remus, I couldn't help but notice Sirius checking me out.

"Padfoot, you alright mate?" He snapped out of his daze and turns his head to Prongs. We were all looking at him. "Yes, yes, I'm alright. The train is gonna leave soon, let´s go!"

ꜰɪꜰᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ:

The prank war was so much worse this year. And the worst part is that me and Lily Evans became the pressure point for Slytherins to strike back from the pranks, but no one seemed to notice that. James has been crushing on Lily for around two years now, asking her out multiple times, helping her with everything and overall just trying to impress her. Lily has become a good friend of mine too.

One day, we were just walking through the halls, when thousands of tiny birds attacked us. Through the swarm I could clearly see Snape and his friends smirking. "That's what happens to mudbloods!" The birds picked us, tore our skin and made red and bloody patches here and there. Eventually, Lily managed to sent them away, going after the Slytherins. But the damage had already been done. Our hair was ruined, my lip was busted and we both had hundreds of little bites.

When we arrived back at the common room, the boys were sitting there doing several different things. The moment Lily turned to them James shot up and ran over. This made Sirius look up too, and his eyes widened. He came over and cupped my cheeks, directing my gaze to his eyes. "What happened? Who did this to you? Who was it?" His concern for me shocked me slightly, and I was almost too stunned to speak. "Just- just some Slytherins." "Snape?" I looked away. I could hear his teeth grind at my reaction. He looked to James, who was looking as furious as Sirius.

"Time for payback."

ᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ꜱɪxᴛʜ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴀᴛ ʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ:

"Lily, why won't you go out with me?" "Because you're a stupid, ignorant prick." "And? So is Sirius, and Y/N still goes out with him!"

I smile at the mention of my relationship with Sirius. Today one year ago, Sirius had asked me out, and I had doubtfully accepted. But Sirius did everything for our relationship, and I realized that I fell in love with him years ago. "Yeah, I don't know how I manage him sometimes Prongs." "Not helping!" "You know you love me." Sirius walks in smirking. I smile back at him, and he incages me with his arms, kissing my face over and over. "Happy anniversary, love." "Happy anniversary, Siri."

"Y/N?" "Mmm?" "Do you know why James has stopped asking me out?" "What?" "He hasn't done anything for weeks, and I- I'm just concerned." I look up from my essay, smiling mischievously. "Why, do you miss it?" "N-no! No, I absolutely don't, I just-" "Secretly liked it? Love the attention?" I gasp. "Love James?" "Y/N, stop. I don't do any of those things." "You sure? You do seem very concerned about it for someone who doesn't care..." "No, I can't, I won't, I don't- what the hell is happening to me?!" She frustatedly yells and stands up, her hands in her hair. I close my books and pull her down.

"Lily look at me." She obeys. "Love is weird. It's true. If I go back to my younger self and ask: what do you feel for Sirius, the answer would be nothing, I despise him. But look at me now!" She slightly smiles. "Lily, James really isn't that bad if you get to know him. And that's me speaking, I have put up with him for 6 years!" She chuckles. "James is... extraordinary, and a little bit too much sometimes, but he can be so sweet, caring and kind. Think of all the times he has hexed people for calling you a mudblood, or held your books, saved food for you, helped you with getting something..." Her face slowly lights up with realization, and I decide to give her the final push. "You just have to give him a chance."

She shoots up out of her chair and I chuckle when she runs away. I gather our books and run after her, arriving to the hallway just in time to see her and James kissing. I smile when I feel two arms coming around my waist from behind. "Wow, darling, what did you say to them?" "Nothing much needed to be said." I turn my head to look at Sirius, and kiss him slowly.

Things couldn't be better.

For now.

ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ ᴅᴀʏ:

Sirius weakly smiles to himself as he relives the memories in his head, but the smile is quickly cut short as he arrives to the Great Hall: the temporary infirmary. He hasn't seen his love or any of the Marauders around for the entirety of the battle, and has been worried sick.

The worst case scenarios start flashing through his mind: Remus sprawled out on the ground, Lily clutching her bloody side, James screaming out in pain.

They have to live. For Sirius' sanity, they have to live through this chaos.

He stops still and closes his eyes, envisioning a future with Y/N: a house in a field, kids, laughter and the smell of food coming out of every corner. Snuggled up on the couch, laughing softly while looking at their son opening his Christmas presents.

It gives him the strength to go on.

His stomach twists as he walks through the paths cleared out betweeen bodies, some hexed, some covered in blood, some dead. But the feeling cannot compare to what he feels when he hears it.

The screams coming from the back.

Lily.

He starts running and a huddle of people around a body slowly comes into sight. He starts pushing through, recognizing everyone as his friends. He bumps into James, who looks at his own girlfriend sadly. "Prongs, what happened? What-" He cuts himself off as he looks at the injured body before him.

It's her.

It's that girl.

His girl.

Sirius drops to his knees at her side, slowly taking her cheek and her hand in his own hands. They are cold as stone. Her skin is pale, her eyes are closed, her clothes are stained with blood. The realization hits him hard as his finger lands on her pulse.

"No."

The words is soft, but everyone can hear it. James kneels next to Sirius, a hand on his back. Before them Lily is sitting next to the body, her best friend, her Cupid. The pain they are feeling is so immense, so mind-blowing and gut-turning that they don't know what to do with it.

Sirius starts sobbing.

His tears falling on her cheeks, his forehead pressed onto hers, his heartbroken expression and her serene one. She is gone. Dead. Elsewhere.

He is gonna have to live with this on his own.

Forever.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#sirius black #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black sad #sirius black oneshot #sirius black imagine #marauders era #marauders #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #sirius black fluff #harry potter #wizarding world #sirius black x fem! reader #sirius black x female reader #hp fanfiction #sirius black x you

[apompkwrites]

So like I love angst and so do many of your followers I bet too since many of the asks sent are angst related so like this headcanon isn't applying to just one sheep, it can apply to whoever but I feel that this could apply to young shroud, the Lil rose, and little schoenheit, mainly shroud.

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If you have ever read land of the lustrous, you'd be amazed and deeply saddened in the change in the Mc, phos. Not that the characterization is bad or anything, it's just depressing. I want phos to be happy, to no longer fear burdened, I just want them to smile again. Phos once was a ray of sunshine, always smiling, naive, curious, and had a need to be useful to their siblings. Then as the story progresses, so does phos, she becomes so unfamiliar it feels another person but it's still them. Even after all that change, it's still them.

These panels here show just one character, Phos. Her from when the series first began all the way to her 3rd-5th change in like chapter 70+ (rough estimate)

That brings me to my main point. In these panels we see phos seeing a hallucination of their former self. Phos doesn't recognize herself, she has become something completely different from her former years that she didn't even know who that gem was. Phos has lost themselves in the pursuit of their goal.

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"Nothing is never set in stone, not even death"

From reading your fics showcasing young shroud's past made me a sense of melancholy at the back of my throat (This is good it means you're good at writing making hurt like this). That feeling of dread as you describe how much they adore ortho and their elder brother, the dread in the back of your mind as you know what is to come.

I imagine that you intended for the young shroud to be a joyous, smart child, one with a life full happiness ahead of them. Curious they are, eager to know all there is to possibly comprehend. Just perhaps they were too Curious that it drove everyone away after an incident that tipped them over.

"I didn't know! What was I supposed to do!?! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO!?"

After being blamed for the death of their beloved brother, you mentioned that they shut themselves away working to bring him back from the dead, though, with a few...changes.

This goal of theirs was must. It must be accomplished no matter what, for his sake. Shroud is willing to sacrifice their soul, mind, and body if it means ortho comes back. No matter what.

Timeskip to when they overblot cause their story ain't finish.

I just feel it hit real hard if we get a scene similar to the panels I shown. Perhaps they're in a point in their overblot that even if Lil shroud is saved, they won't come out completely intact. They lose maybe a part of their body or mind and they don't even know it. I just what goes on the heads of those who overblot. Will the Little shroud even realize what they're doing to their brothers? Their friends?

Make it hurt more if that they destroy ortho's mechanical body, losing him just as they did all those years ago. Would they even know that they did that to their beloved brother? Perhaps the young shroud is far to gone emotionally that the words of their loved ones can't reach their heart.........

"Who are those children?"

Perhaps their overblot reqches a tipping point where their mind begins to run through all possible memories to figure out a way to save them from ending their story far too soon. That child still has a lot to live for. And just maybe their mind lands on a memory from when they were a child, before the passing of their younger brother, when it was just idia, ortho, and them. A memory from when they were still naive and unknowing of many things in their world, when they had no understanding of loss.

"That......that child there?"

They wouldn't recognize the children in scene as they observe a far as a fourth person. Disassociating themselves from who they once were. And as the first year observes the children playing in a white out facility, one catches their attention. A child with eyes full of curiosity and wonder. An innocence held their eyes glistened under the artificial light. The child laughed and grinned as they ran around with their brothers.

"Oh...that child is....that child....th....oh god..."

"How could I ever I blame you?"

The first I bet when the young shroud ever fell in love was after meeting their baby brother first time. They meet a baby full of purity, a wonder and greatest curiosity gifted to their life. They would protect and teach him all there is to know in this world.

They second time they fell in love was at this moment of realization. How could they ever that child, blame them for the death of their brother? They were young, unknowing, how could a child naive as them ever grasp the terror of those monsters? How could that child know?

I feel that shroud would approach the mirage of their former self and just kneel and cry. Just cry and cry as they ask themselves how they could ever hate such an innocent child. How does one hate a child as naive as them? How? Just how? What was the point of loathing an existence so pure and kind as that child? How could they ever hate themselves?

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The consequences for an overblot as severe as theirs I feel would lead to life long physical consequences. Like losing the ability to walk, hear, or see, something. But that would be find with them. They can cry and cry all they want and that in itself is a gift for they, for the first time in years, fell in love once more.

oooh yeah this concept def fits a few of the black sheep :O

esp lil shroud with the new chapter for their fic, the way that they don't recognize themselves fits the part when lil shroud goes up onto the upper floors. ofc, they still recognize its them in the fic but after the experiment, there is a possibility they wouldnt.

for an overblot, maybe that's how they get saved from the overblot? because they get so distracted by the realization that this pure innocent child is them and they've practically killed them would probably be enough to drag them out of the overblot, or at least enough for the others to help them :((

100% lil shroud first fell in love (platonically ofc) when ortho was brought home for the first time. id say idia probably felt the same when lil shroud and ortho both came home :))

as for who lil shroud was before ortho's death, yes, they were meant to be this pure, curious child that would have definitely been an influence on ortho's personality. but because of his death and lil shroud's banishment, that child disappeared D:

maybe, if their parents didn't do what they did, lil shroud would have still been that child. who knows?

#a pompk answers #black sheep #a lilalienembolia's rambles

[khalixascorner]

Say it Loud(er)

Summary: When Tony goes before the Senate to protest an inhumane amendment to the Superhero Accountability Act, he doesn't mean to admit he loves Spider-Man on live CSPAN. Rather than recant his statement, Tony rolls with the punches and declares them married too. Now he just has to let Peter know before the press gets their hands on him.

Tags: Accidental Marriage, Public Confessions, no literally, it's mostly fluff with a little bit of spice right at the end.

Fill for Marvel Trumps Hate 2022

Read on AO3 Here

To say that Tony was irritated to be in front of the Senate again was an understatement. It felt like they had just resolved the mess with the Accords, with the House and Senate adopting the Superhero Accountability Act instead. It got rid of all of the worst parts of the Accords and focused instead on reasonable accountability. It had taken Tony months of negotiations and over a year of lobbying to get the more reasonable law passed. 

And now he was here again, all because Ross was capitalizing on a recent high profile case where an enhanced was the main suspect. The man hadn’t even been convicted yet but apparently, the evidence was damning enough that people were fear-mongering like they had when the Hulk first appeared. Of course Ross would jump at the opportunity and try to roll back all the good that the SAA did.

This new amendment to the SAA was a humanitarian crime and Tony wasn't going to sit back and let them undo all his hard work.

“Next to speak is Tony Stark,” a voice said, and Tony sighed again.

“Alright, Fri, let’s shut this down,” Tony murmured as he moved towards the podium. 

“Knock them dead, boss,” the AI chirped in his ear. “And try not to get arrested.”

Tony smiled at that, but judging by the nervous looks around him, it wasn’t a very nice smile.

“Alright, folks, you know who I am but for those of you with dementia, I’m happy to remind you. My name is Tony Stark,” Tony said, straightening his jacket as he spoke. “Now, what you might not know is why I’m here. The amendment proposed wouldn’t affect me, as I’m not enhanced. However, it would affect someone I care a lot about. Many someones actually. So I feel it’s my responsibility to use my voice for them, as they’re unable to speak here themselves.”

Tony paused and looked around the room, Friday taking in who was paying attention and who wasn’t while also highlighting their anticipated vote. It was far too close for comfort, which was why he was here at all. 

“This latest amendment to the Superhero Accountability Act barely passes the rather low bar of being constitutional and completely falls short of being moral, just, or even needed,” Tony said firmly. “One person misused their abilities, and now Secretary Ross is attempting to use the fear caused by it to rewrite the rules for a whole group of minorities that are already at risk for discrimination. A mutation or enhancement is no different than any other tool, and like a tool, it can be used for good or evil. But that doesn’t make the tool inherently good or evil, nor the people wielding it.”

Tony stopped again, taking his time to look at all of the NRA supported senators before he continued. 

“Senators on this very floor have said as much about guns, and the precedence is clear. It would be hypocritical to say that enhanced or mutant individuals should be treated less fairly.”

“Now, see here, Stark, the level of destruction from a gun is nowhere near what a mutant can cause,” Senator Kelly objected.

“Really?” Tony asked, disbelief plain on his face and in his tone. “Did you forget the guns I used to build? The missiles? Hell, the Iron Man suit is arguably more dangerous than most mutants because it’s not limited by a physical body that can be strained or fatigued. It’s also not limited to a set number of abilities or skills. And yet, if I broke the law and were convicted, I’d only face jail time, not conscription to a ‘special unit’ in the military.”

“The raft was deemed inhumane, and rehabilitation is always the goal,” another senator blustered.

“Oh yes, we’ll be rehabilitating them by putting them in slightly less horrible cages and making them submit to physicals and who knows what other testing in the name of ‘quantifying their abilities to make best use of them’ all with limited oversight, after which, they’ll be thrown on the front line to die before they can complain about the situation,” Tony all but spat. “You would not, and frankly could not, do that to Iron Man, so why would you think you could do it to Spider Man? Why is Spider Man less deserving of being treated like a person even if he were to fuck up than Iron Man? Or a non-Avenger like Daredevil? You are trying to draw a line in the sand using only your fear as reasoning.”

“Mr. Stark, you would ask us to let our constituents live in fear,” Senator Clark argued. “What will you offer them when these enhanced individuals cause havoc and destruction again and again? We cannot cage them without risking the lives of others.”

“Friday, pull up prison statistics for guards injured on duty and compare the findings to current injuries for known mutants to guards on duty as well. And while we’re at it, let's pull up the data for mutant escapes after convictions and data on repeat offenders both enhanced and non. Oh and just for funsies, pull up a list of rehabilitation programs for both populations too,” Tony said, ignoring the objections as Friday took control of their projection systems and began displaying the requested information.

“Now, as you can see, Senators, there is no data to support such accusations, and frankly, even if there were, then the humane response would be to increase the literal absence of enhanced and mutant specific rehabilitation programs,” Tony said, crossing his arms and staring at the Senators like they were unruly children throwing a tantrum. 

“But there’s not enough of a population to warrant those programs.” Tony pitched his voice high as he mocked them. “We don’t have the funding and other inmates need it more.”

“And that is exactly my point- enhanced are an almost non existent portion of our prison population,” Tony said quietly. “And do you know why that is? No- don’t answer, because I guarantee none of you in this room truly know. None of you will ever live in fear of being literally dissected alive just because you were born different or had some random act of god turn you into something others consider less than human. Only a few of you will know the fear of being shot first and questions asked later if at all.”

Tony let that sink in, looking around somberly as Friday changed the statistics to enhanced and mutant individuals that had gone missing or had been murdered by their families, by police, or in some cases, never solved. 

“For every one of them brave enough to step forward, to put themselves out there while using their abilities to help, there are hundreds if not thousands more living in fear, and you validate their fear when you propose laws such as these,” Tony gripped the edges of the podium, willing them to understand, to pull their god damn heads out of their asses. “This amendment is discriminatory and built on a foundation of lies and fear mongering. Your actions say that you trust me, an ex-arms dealer with the moniker ‘Merchant of Death,’ to be a better person than someone like Spider Man, an enhanced who literally rescues cats from trees and helps little old ladies cross the street, simply because my DNA looks normal to you. Why am I held to a different standard than him?”

“Mr. Stark, you seem very concerned about Spider Man’s position in regards to this amendment,” Senator Ryan asked, giving Tony an unimpressed look. 

“Of course, I would be concerned when someone I love is being threatened by the people that are meant to protect them,” Tony retorted then froze. He took a deep breath, pretending to regain his composure even though he was just buying himself time to think. The Senate was made up of obstinate asses, and today was no exception. They all appeared wholly unimpressed with his arguments which meant it was time to up the stakes. Tony would make it abundantly clear that he would not allow Spider-Man to be drawn into their crosshairs on a whim. With a quiet murmur to Friday to back him up, he stared down Ryan and the others.

“Of course, I’m going to care when you’re literally threatening my goody two shoes husband, who literally wouldn’t harm a fly, because you’re scared of your own shadows.” 

Shock rippled through the crowd and Tony capitalized on it. 

“Stark Industries won’t stand for it either. We will not support representatives, or a government that would take advantage of minorities, enhanced or otherwise, and I assuredly will not allow my husband to be put to trial for your fears. If this amendment is passed into law, we will find somewhere that will welcome Iron Man and Spider Man with open arms,” Tony said firmly. 

“Are you threatening us?” Senator Kelly blustered, and Tony gave him an unamused look.

“I would have thought you people would have figured out by now that I never threaten anything,” Tony  said. “I’m just nice enough to tell you the consequences of your actions in advance. You’re welcome, by the way. Now, if you don’t mind, I have another appointment to get to. I do so hope you’ll remember what I said but if not, I’m sure the recorder can give you the transcripts.”

Tony spins and stalks out of the chamber, the people in it already out of his mind as he focused on the new problem.

“Fri, marriage documentation from Wakanda, send a note to Lion-O discreetly to back us up, then file a copy with New York, have it in a pending pile or something. Also, update all of SI’s information to have Peter as my emergency contact and spouse. Put the name as Peter Parker-Stark. Update my will and everything to say spouse instead of heir.”

Tony ignored the many reporters and people trying to get his attention, heading straight for Happy and the waiting car.

“Oh, and have Rhodey as my witness and May as Peter’s.”

“On it, boss, backdating to May 4th of last year, congratulations on your nuptials,” Friday said primly as Tony climbed in the car. He snorted when he realized what the date was. 

“Very funny, Fri, I’m sure Peter will approve. Although, now I have to plan an anniversary gift with barely a month of lead time,” Tony complained.

“Might I suggest you start with rings,” Friday said dryly. 

“You take care of those, I have to call Peter,” Tony said as he let his head fall back for just a moment. A headache was building but it was his own fault for not watching what he said better. And he did love Peter, in his own way, so what was a little marriage between friends?

#khalixa writes #starker #tony stark/peter parker #tony stark #peter parker #accidental marriage #public love confessions #marvel trumps hate

[yyyuyuyu]

﹏﹏﹏ „The Land of Dreams” ﹏﹏﹏﹏

┊ ┊ ✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀           

┊ ☪︎⋆                                             

⊹     chapter 1. “A stormy beginning”

│ Yandere!G.impact x Fem!Reader

│ tw: mention of death(?)

╰ ─✧

.        .         +       .           .          *  .      • .      °

There is nothing surprising in the fact that the trip went quickly and unnoticed for you. After all, time is fleeting. Mora comes and goes, some friends are replaced by others, the old love dies, giving way to a new one. Losses, it would seem, cannot be avoided even when it comes to the main value in a person's life – time. Time does not wait for a person. What happened yesterday is already history. What will happen tomorrow is not given to anyone to know. Usually people don't think about it, and, in fact, you haven't really thought about it either.

And now you are already standing in the harbor of Liue. The sun has not yet set, but the stars are already going out in the sky, first the dimest and smallest, followed by brighter ones, and the moon dissolves into the milky whiteness of the sky.

“Truly a beautiful sight,” you think, looking at the sky.

Your thoughts are interrupted: the noise does not allow you to immerse yourself too much in your thoughts. Despite the earlier morning, it is still noisy and crowded. The harbor was bustling with life, people hurried about their business. Looking at them, you involuntarily recall your “journey" through Teyvat. Initially, your plans included the first visit to Mondstadt - the famous city of freedom and songs. And although you were not a bard, where else would your stories and fairy tales be appropriate. But now you are still in Liue, and the reason for that was the Ceremony of Descent. Every year on this day, Rex Lapis bestows his prophecy on this land, giving instructions on the economic path that Liue should follow in the coming year. “This doesn't happen every day. When will I have another opportunity to witness this event?” - you think.

And so, with a quiet and smooth gait, you go to the Yujing Terrace.

Making your way through the crowd and trying not to hurt anyone, you pass to the front rows. Your (e/c) eyes slide over the people standing there until they stop at a tall woman with long blond hair standing in the center with two other girls. She stares at the bright sun for a moment, then holds her hands out in front of her, making a solemn speech. When she finishes, she does something with her geo vision, which causes a golden ray of light to rush into the sky.

“How fascinating..” - you think, watching her actions. It seemed that you had seen before how people used their visions, but despite this, you do not cease to admire.

But your admiration is interrupted. The heavens are covered with dark clouds, and a dragon falls to the ground with a characteristic loud sound. Everything happens too abruptly and quickly: people whisper in anxiety, the woman who spoke a solemn speech approaches the dragon's body and you realize everything that is happening.

Rex Lapis is dead.

You feel anxious and fearful. How can this happen? Why? A lot of questions fill your head, and you start to feel even more anxious. Taking a deep breath, you try to drive away all thoughts and pay attention to your surroundings. It seems that those present who were in the front rows are being interrogated now. Not wanting to have any accusations and questions in your direction, you try to carefully leave the terrace. Involuntarily, not far from you, you notice two people who, like you, are apparently trying to leave. They were a guy with blond hair braided in a braid, and a flying girl with white hair and a halo on her head. The clothes of both looked unfamiliar to you, so you assumed that they were not from Liue, but simply arrived here as tourists or travelers.

Unfortunately for you and these two people, the guy steps on something that makes a sound that attracts milleliths to all of you. Your first reaction is to run. Maybe not the most reasonable reaction, you think, but the most obvious. You run as fast as possible, trying once again not to catch the eye of other milleliths. Your “friends in misfortune”, as you mentally called them, follow your example by running away. But no matter how fast you and they run, there are too many milleliths, which leads to the fact that you are surrounded. Your head is filled with different thoughts again, but before you have time to give up, a mysterious person appears, which "saves" you and travelers from millelites.

“Ha.. What unexpected twists of fate..” - you mumble while straightening your hair and trying to catch your breath after an intense run. You are definitely not used to running around, considering that your life is usually much more peaceful.

“Phew.. Paimon is tired!” - putting his hand on his head, says the girl, who, apparently, is called Paimon.

“Tell me, what muscles are strained during flight?”, her companion asks, looking at her calmly.

You watch their dialogue, having a little fun. It seems like a pleasant change compared to what you experienced a moment ago. Having finished their banter, they turn to the “savior”. Now that the danger has passed, you were able to get a better look at him: he was a tall young man with blue eyes, red hair and a red mask on his head. His clothes were mostly gray shades, a red scarf hung around his neck, and a hydro vision was present on his belt. His face seemed vaguely familiar to you, although you couldn't remember exactly who he was or where you saw him. Paimon asks him about who he is.

“Call me Childe”, he replies.

Well, now you understand why he seemed familiar to you. His name is really known among the people of Snezhnaya.

Childe Tartaglia, The Eleventh of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers.

You have seen him several times with, as you assumed, his younger brothers and sisters, during your performances in Snezhnaya. Sometimes you noticed him alone. Alone, he seems more cold and gloomy than with his family. But this is highly expected, given his status. Although, no matter who he is with, his presence is worry. It's not that you are against the harbingers of fatui - in fact, you don't care about them, but you would feel uncomfortable in their presence. People with such power and authority, besides being close to the Tsaritsa, could easily erase you or anyone else from the face of Teyvat. It's disturbing.

But fate is similar to the wheel of fortune, you never know what awaits you next, right? That is why you are now standing in front of the harbinger that pulled you out of trouble a few minutes ago.

“Hey! Are you all right? Can you hear us?”

You interrupted your thoughts because of Paimon's exclamations. You seem to have missed everything they were talking about.

“I'm sorry, I think I was too immersed in the depths of my thoughts”, you assure in a calm voice, closing your eyes and slightly bowing your head as an apology.

Three pairs of eyes drill holes in you before Paimon asks you who you are.

“[Name] [Surname], the storyteller from Snezhnaya. Nice to meet you.”

“That's how, no wonder you seemed familiar to me. Well, nice to meet you too.” - Childe declares, smiling. His empty blue eyes are fixed on you.

“Paimon's name is Paimon, and this is Aether. We are both travelers!” says Paimon, pointing first to himself and then to his companion, who smiles at you in a friendly way.

Mentally memorizing their names, you smile and nod back at them. “What friendly people" - you think. Childe briefly retells for you what he said earlier, gives Aether sigils of permission, and tells him and you to go and look for adepts. You don't know why fate has turned out this way, but you are glad that now at least you are not alone.

As you leave with your new companions, you listen to Paimon talk about her and Aether's adventure. You are too focused on their story to feel the eyes fixed on you from behind.

I apologize for the long wait, ehe. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. See you in the next chapter. 👁️

#yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #x reader #genshin x reader

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 68 // The Suntouched // Day xxx

Contents (Warnings): What is a Suntouched Fae? (Angst, vore mention, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on - A03

Wordcount: 2,800 + (SORRY ABOUT THE WAIT GOT A LOT SMOOVIN' RIGHT NOW!)

Song I listened to on repeat for this chapter: Ship in a bottle - Fin [Steffan Argus]

Side note: This will contain experimental writing; first person (Lynette's view) will be implemented alongside third person for the two other essential characters, (mostly) Alexander and (occasionally) Drake. All their text will be italicized for those third-person moments, with the characters' names in Bold at the start and their thoughts in Bold. There may be other characters I write for using this.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

(Diomwava. 31st)

Claudia

Fae's are born at night. They are collected from the red soil to which the mother gives their body. It's broken when they are buried, split into pieces, and reshaped within the world with their magic, hoping to create at least one or two worthy heirs to their mother's sacrifice. 

Afterward, a caretaker is left to collect, train and raise those younglings on the morals and ways of the coven. However...if a fae is born during the time of the fairies, the day, they are suntouched. The coven marks those newborns as accursed, disgusting omens. They are immediately buried away from the red cave garden and sealed into the earth to become fauna. A waste of their mothers' efforts.

Though, the coven kept one alive. The leader of the collection, a group of individuals that searched the forest and beyond, had given up her body. 

When the mother gave up their body like this, some of their memories and techniques were passed on, so they couldn't afford to lose this child. Yet, the accused suntouched perturbed them all. 

But, they still named the youngling. Urtsi, meaning useless or lame.

Her watcher and mother's previous partner, Theieo. He kept her away from the rest of the other younglings and was forced to teach her anything he knew out of the sight of the others. She'd only be free to roam when sent on a collection outside the coven.  

"Another journey?" His lips quivered into a scowl. The dark gray cover over his face stared up toward the tallest building, marble white and columned at every thirty feet tall ring/level. The coven leaders sat atop the red garden at least 100 feet up. 

"They can't keep sending you out." Theieo hissed in their native tongue.

His eyes, hidden behind the "visor," coasted over her body. Urtsi was missing one of her spare limbs, only wielding three on her back, and her once beautiful curled horns were stripped from her head. Her hair had grown over to hide the cracked scars.

Urtsi's face stared up at him. "I must do it. They said so."

They wanted her dead. They both knew that. Theieo didn't want her to stay, but he couldn't leave and assumed she'd be too young to venture alone.

He sat with her under two large, crumbling pillars on flat bundles of plush leaves. "I know, Urtsi, you always do so well." His smiled through his sour voice.

She curled up in his arms, the Suntouched Fae. Even after spending time with her, it scared him to touch her. His instilled instincts told him to squeeze the life out of Urtsi to protect himself and the coven. 

He shut his eyes, swallowing the urge. He held the quiet child until she got ready for her journey.

Theieo brushed his hair back and put his two main hands out to her. He clamped his hands over hers and lifted them to her face height.

"Let Veina watch you," he brought them back down, "Esidos protect you," then he swung them very high up, nearly pulling her off the ground, "and if you don't make it," he brought her hands to his face. He touched them to the crack of his mouth under the faceplate. "know that I love you." 

Urtsi had received his blessing. She always did before she left. He let her hands go, and Urtsi kept them pressed flatly together, then bowed forward. "Returned."

...

Every tree was well over one hundred feet. It made Urtsi feel so small. She was still growing, but Fae only got to about fifteen to eighteen feet at most. These weren't even some of the tallest trees; some were nearly three hundred feet tall. 

There weren't any low-hanging branches with them either, just burrows for animals or the species Urtsi was after. 

"Escora's (fairies)?" Urtsi reminded herself.

Though Fae's ate Escora's, they generally stayed away from colonies. The Elder Escora's were no joke. When they reached a certain age, they became giant creatures, hideously so, but protectors of the other younger Escora nonetheless. 

Then as a giant shadow cast over her, something blocked the sun. Her visored face looked up and saw the shimmering midnight scales of the giant flying monster. A drakin. Urtsi wondered how free it must have felt to fly up so high. She couldn't pull her eyes away, and the farther it got, its scales seemed to change to red. Until she no longer saw it. Urtsi's head didn't drop for a while. 

Why would they send me out after an Escora or two? Wouldn't they come themselves? She finally questioned. Her head dropped, and she continued her search. They would never trust her to bring back something most Fae found precious. You eat an Escora, and you get a wish. The thoughts swirled in her head. What would I wish for? Urtsi asked herself. She couldn't ask for anything. It wasn't her right. 

She searched for several more hours; the taps of her thin, agile feet stopped on the dirt floor. She stopped before the dead beast at least twice her size, as she was only ten feet tall. She approached the body and gave it a light kick for good measure. 

It was a fuzzy one, quite big and with needs embedded between its fur. Urtsi could feel the magic of the one who slayed it, a signature left by an a-Escora. She searched the area, knowing this might mean a colony was nearby. Her mission for the coven leaders would be a success, and she didn't lose anything this time, not a back arm. She didn't want to lose another as she was down to three. 

Her antenna twitched, thinking they caught something again. Though it was really the light of the sun dwindling. Escora would never stay out at night; it was risky for them as more dangerous creatures were nocturnal. 

The brown-haired Suntouched Youngling, Urtsi, crawled under an abandoned burrow. Her pale, bleached pink skin shined too brightly at night. It'd attract the creatures; that's what the coven told her.

She huddled up. Though she was a child, mentally that of a twelve-year-old, she held not an ounce of anger toward her coven like Theieo did. She knew she was a crutch on Theieo; they reminded her of that every day. 

She almost considered this to be the time she'd run away. Not out of fear or sadness but simply to preserve herself. 

Urtsi had watched repeatedly, Suntouched Fae like her, babies, reburied after they scrambled out, sealed away to die in blood-stained soil, and bound to remain still by their name. 

Her thoughts went quiet. She heard shuffling. Things were moving by her, but she could not see them. 

She ignored it and remained still. 

Urtsi listened. It sounded close, and she swore she saw a bit of dirt. 

And soon, a few things entered her site; they were quick. They grabbed her body firmly and yanked her from the tree. She recognized them as arms from her own people. 

She readied to protect herself.

"URTSI." 

Her body stopped, and the hands got her without a fight. 

Fae weren't allowed to use each other's names. They held power behind them. If a being more powerful than the Fae said it, they would leave them helpless. 

Urtsi's body hung limp, and she witnessed the few coven leaders that sent her. She did not speak to them for prolonged periods, she only saw them when they had a request, and that was it. 

Their face plates no longer covered their faces; they had removed them for the night. The plate can only be first released by the one who lifted them from the soil. They must allow you to see clearly; after their hands print over the Fae, they can forever remove it yourself. 

Their eyes were entirely colored, with little white in sight. The color of their hue said what they were, and the rarest had two, such as the leader that held Urtsi. 

They didn't say a word to her, nor could Urtsi say a word to them. The one that held her with one eye of crimson red and forest green had not an ounce of pity behind them. 

The other two, with this one, had the pit behind her ready. 

A hole. Urtsi's body trembled, and they need not call her name again. Urtsi couldn't even beg, only desperate, faintly whimpering with rapid breaths.  

And they dropped her down the deep hole. It allowed her to hazily look up, seeing the figures far above her. She could hear their chants. 

"Return to the soil, accept your impurity, and beg for forgiveness while washed with blood." 

And the soil piles at the edges began to move over her, dropping onto her body. Each pile felt heavier and heavier; an indescribable weight befell her.

As it filled, Urtsi felt a chance arise. Only babies received this treatment, never someone as old as her. She placed a cloak over herself to take away the immense strain. 

It wouldn't matter, as Urtsi could not move or see; she was trapped, unable to escape as she knew they had dropped their blood onto the soil above. Because she heard the snake of roots. The slow slink through the dirt before it crashed into her cloak. It came at her from all sides, trying to crush it and absorb her body. 

Urtsi gasped, trying to hold out against it in the darkness. Unable to see, only felt the bends to her cloak. The thorns await to prick past her skin. She refused to accept this fate; she wouldn't even though Urtsi knew she deserved it.

...

Had it been an hour? Her barrier weakened so severely that her legs had partially succumbed to some of the thorns. They were taking every bit of her energy. 

She knew she wouldn't last much longer; she felt her breath slowly siphoned, the dirt barely held back by her barrier, much like the squeezing thorns.

Then the roots exploded in a burst of screeching, colorful fire. The dirt felt lifted enough from Urtsi so she could safely break her own barrier. The three hands at her back, desperately clawing away, and the hands at her front. 

The moonlight shined from above as she got to the edges and yanked her body up, weakly, trying to heal her twitching legs.  

She didn't care who saved her. Her biggest concern was getting far away from the hole. 

She couldn't see anyone nearby. Who saved me? She asked. She knew she wasn't her own guardian.

Then she felt the signature, the same as before, and though blurry, she could make out through the hazy visor a flutter of tiny wings.

"Escora!" 

She shouted, and it stopped. They twisted in their flight, spun backward, and perched upon a tiny burrow in a tree higher than Urtsi.

"Quiet, young Fae. You shouldn't call my species out so loudly." They warned, sending their voice into Urtsi's head. Urtsi could barely make them out, except for the green at, which seemed to be their hair, outfit, and eyes.

Urtsi stared up, "was it you who helped me?"

The Escora didn't answer.

Urtsi repeated it.

The little Escora spoke, "Yes. Out of pity."

The fact that it was pity didn't bother Urtsi. She curiously turned her head, "You have pity for Fae? We eat your species."

"I'm aware of the actions your kind take towards us." The Escora replied flatly. "There was a possibility that you would attack me, not that I don't think I can best you."

Urtsi said, "I'm quite gifted for my age."

"As am I," she retorted. Her judgmental hue scoured the dirtied Fae. Besides the bleached color, Urtsi's body looked mangled.

"You're tiny," Urtsi said to the ten-inch tall Escora.

She sighed and gestured to Urtsi, "Clean yourself, little fae."

Urtsi glanced down at herself. It was nothing new, then back to the soil. 

No one climbs out when they are made to return to the soil. You accept it. Urtsi fought the idea. She didn't want that.

"Don't you dare, Suntouched." The Escora's voice echoed into Urtsi's head.

"The coven leaders did it; I can't-"

"If you save a fae, that fae owes you a favor, correct?" 

This made more sense to Urtsi. She had been warned by Theieo about those that wait for a chance to help a fae. 

"Yes," Urtsi said.

"Live."

The Escora left the hole in the honeyed tree.  

Urtsi waited for more with the Escora's request, but that was it. "What do you mean?"

"I request that you continue to live." The Escora said, "and that you don't waste this second chance I gave you." Urtsi watched her small arm point to the left, "The path to Oria, a large city, is easy to find with the illuminated strobes."

"Is that really what you want of me?" Urtsi asked.

"That's what I want." There wasn't a moment of hesitation in their voice. 

Urtsi put her hands out, then looped her thumbs together. Her palms faced her. She then curled her hands into fists while keeping the thumbs remained looped. She pressed it back into her chest. "Then I will live."

It made no sense to Urtsi, an Escora, helping her and sending her off without a proper favor. They gained nothing from letting Urtsi go. After her promise, the Escora left into the night. 

I think Theieo can finally be at peace. Urtsi thought to herself. It wasn't that she was ignorant. She understood the tight clutch from Theieo and his lust to kill. She still cared for him and would remember his blessing. Though, she knew she would never see him again.

...

On the third day, Urtsi tried to do what she saw others do go into a building and get food. They told her she needed coins to purchase things. She was willing to trade what she collected, little trinkets and small critters, but they did not accept it. 

On the fourth day, she tried to ask for coins, got a few, and brought snacks. She ate them ravenously in her corner, under a small tent she made of leaves woven with one another. 

A voice pulled her attention. She stuffed what she could in her mouth to ensure it was hers to enjoy.  

"Anubis, look at that thing!"

Urtsi froze, meeting eye-to-eye with the lad who crouched to stare into her hidey-hole. His hue was bright orange, swirly, as they observed Claudia. A trait she recognized amongst Magus's that came back to life after dying. She only knew this because she stumbled upon what she believed to be a corpse before. She saw the long stitch of tattoo trailing down the front of his neck. 

The other male accompanying him kept a distance. He didn't fully turn his body. His hazardous yellow eyes seized her. They widened with surprise, and a smile followed. 

"You're a very bright Fae," Anubis remarked. A heavy yet smooth tone, one at which, Urtsi understood. He knew "whisper." 

The swirly one that Urtsi didn't understand spoke to Anubis. "They don't speak simple?"

Anubis nodded and continued, "You should be with your coven; where are they?"

Urtsi looked over the being. The amount of magic tied to Anubis frightened her. 

"I'm a part of no coven," Urtsi replied timidly.

Anubis grinned, then glanced back at who Urtsi assumed was a mate or fellow member of something, as why else would they be with one another.

Anubis moved closer to her hut, "So you've got no home, no income, and can't speak the native tongue?" He asked. 

Urtsi agreed.

He turned back to the other male and flipped his head up. The excitable one popped up and dug into his pocket. 

"He wants to play a game with you, fae. A coin flip." Anubis gestured for the pumpkin orange-eyed male to show her the coin. He did so happily and shook his light, fluffy pink hair afterward.

"The side with the sky beast is Ray's," Anubis said as the zombified Magus showed one that looked like a crow with several eyes, "the side with the horned one is soil." It was a horse-like creature with several horns on its head.

"He'll flip the coin, catch it and put it on the back of his hand. You call what you think it is; if you are right, you win; if you are wrong, we win."

"What do you desire if you win?"

"Kalin thinks it'll be best if you join the family." Anubis eyed the male with the coin and gave him the nod to flip it. Anubis continued, and Urtsi watched the sly curl at his mouth, "And if you win, Kalin said he'd give you his right eye."

It flipped in the air for a few moments before landing on the back of his hand.

"Rays or Soil, little fae?" Anubis asked. 

Kalin waited, staring up at her too. 

Urtsi, for a moment, took them both in through the hazy visor. They were the first she had spoken to besides the store clerks, both seemingly different than her people. If she refused, she would gain nothing. 

"Rays."

...

Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. It means a lot that I put out a story that people can enjoy! So, I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable).

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

#widfali #vore writing #vore story #v/ore #v.0re #v/0re #v.ore

[minty-playhouse]

A Brief Primer on the Yotalien Games

((aka A post about their general plot/concept, content warnings, where to play and so on, before I make my huge post analyzing them lol))

So, the past two days I've been digging into the rabbit hole that's the four (five?) games in the Yabatanien saga created by Yotalien, and the plot is way more intricate than I first imagined! So, I wanna make a post detailing my finds and whatnot.

But what IS Yabatanien?

Well, simply put, it's a series of games where you find yourself inside a building, and need to save the girls trapped inside which are involved in all manner dangerous situations (often with gory results if you fail to help them). The games work "in turns" aka time only passes when you move from room to room/when you do certain actions, and sometimes certain traps are timed and you need to plan your movements proper.

On the surface, it feels very "RPG Maker gory game". If you're familiar with things like Witch's House, End Roll, Mad Father and so on, it has that vibe to it. But there's a bit more to these games than what you may think!

At a glance, the first three games in the series don't seem connected, but once you start paying attention to the names of certain girls you save, you will notice some of them show up in all three of them. The fourth game makes it very explicit that all three happen in the same timeline though.

OK, but what's the plot of these games?

Now that's a little trickier, because the story has a lot of layers and turns, but in general, without giving away spoilers (the "main" objective is to try and save all girls):

Yabatanien (aka Trapped Girls): You're in a mansion and need to save a group of girls that are trapped there, under the threat of many traps and perils. Your main goal is to find a way to call for a rescue helicopter to take all the girls away. There's a zombie type monster that threatens the girls as well.

De:Yabatani: You're in a far more complex building, where clearly experiments and such take place. The main goal is to grab the girls and escape with them via the zipline you find at the rooftop. There's also a strange monster in the basement.

Acid Girls' Escape: You find yourself in a building with many mechanical/moving parts, and the goal is to escape via the train that runs through the basement. Lot's of teleportation/weird medical devices are all over the place.

Trapped Girl X: You're back at the mansion from the first game, and the teleportation machines connect it to the building from the second game. Pretty much all the girls you rescue are plot relevant this time around (in the previous games a lot of the girls are mostly "body count").

All games have multiple endings, depending on what you do/who you save!

Wait, you mentioned a fifth game!

Yes, the games have some really heavy topics once you start digging more into the plot, besides the pixelated gore. Here's a list of the contents I've spotted (there could be more, but from my research of the game this is what I've seen/experienced so far):

Well, yes. But that one is more of a sidestory of the third game focused on an specific character, and if you don't know the plot it's not really worth talking about (and even if you know the plot, that one still left me a bit confused). So i'm not gonna get into details about it.

Alright, but about those content warnings...

Child abuse (physical/psychological)

Cannibalism

Demon possession

Unethical/immoral genetic experimentation

Inbreeding/Incest

Murder (outside of the game's bloody traps)

If you need a list of the warnings for the gore, some of the things that happen in game are: exploding bodies, being melted by acid, being eaten alive, various forms of dismemberment, teeth/eye pulling, drowning, electrocution, falling to death from high places...

Kidnapping

Religious blasphemy (not too overt but it's there)

Yes, the game is very Dead Dove and it's not the easiest sit if you're squimish.

I'm not squeamish though!! Tell me where to play these!

Ok, ok!!

The first three games, you can play both on mobile and on Switch (where I played most of them).

If you search Yotalien games on the app store/apple store, you can find them pretty easily. The first and fourth games are free to play, while the second and third (+ the sidestory) are around 4$ each.

On the switch, the first two games were released as a single pack for around 7-8$, while the third, Acid Girls Escape (along with the extra sidestory) is sadly a Japan only release (but you can, you know, acquire it through other means cough cough).

I highly recommend playing the first three (+ the sidestory) on the switch for the higher resolution and slightly better UI. But the games are virtually identical. They're all also in full English, both on the swith and mobile (there are some grammar mistakes here and there in the fourth, but nothing too egregious).

So yeah, I hope I picked your interest with this post and that you find yourself pulling your hair at the puzzles and trying to figure out how to get all endings lol Happy gaming!

#yabatanien #yotalien games #rpg maker horror #(although the games were made in unity shhh) #japanese horror game #cw gore #dead dove content

[maiavonsneeper]

Video Game 2023 recap!

So this year i played heaps of games lol honestly crazy to think about.

Thought I'd do my own wrap up and look back.

I may mention spoilers.

Kirby and the Forgotten Land

Cute! Its my first Kirby game in forever (last game was on the DS) Again its cute, fun, funny and its body horror for kids!

🐀Happy Sneep ^_^

Bayonetta 3

I've watched the previous two games so this was my first time playing a Bayonetta game. I was worried about getting into its combat so I played in casual for most of it. Did play in standard later and it turns out I was doing well lol

The story and ending was..something tbh I expected a lot based on the past two. Still I had fun as a newcomer and I enjoyed the customizing.

🐀 Neutral (confused) Sneep :-1

Yakuza Like a Dragon

Funny to think that I unintentionally played this game and I guess the rest of the series lmao Honestly iconic I loved Ichiban, I loved his friends, the usual RGG side stuff was fun and full of charm and the english dub was really well done. Am glad to have played this especially after I watched Penny Parker play this.

🐀a Happy Sneep about it but was left devastated at the end ಥ_ಥ

Yakuza 0

Loved it, a great way to get into the Kiryu saga, to know what Kiryu's story is (and Maji's) after playing through Ichi. I had quite the reaction to playing a game that can be so violent but also can be very weird and also feature a dress up game.

🐀 Nishiki simping Sneep (unaware of whats to come) (っ❤◡❤)っ

Xenoblade Chronicles 3

Its Xenoblade...it was a rollercoaster of a story to go through. Also very relaxing to play especially after Y0 and B3 lol

Enjoyed coming along with Noah and the gang. Loved Eunie and Taion and I liked seeing refs to 1 and 2.

🐀 Sad Sneep (at the ending) OTL

Legend of Zelda Tears of the Kingdom

I basically put aside everything while playing TotK lmao

It was so fun exploring and seeing newer things added in. This is the only game so far that made me replay the final boss, like I NEEDED to play the final boss again <3 a battle between dragons.

🐀 Speechless Sneep (◡‿◡)

Final Fantasy VII Crisis Core Reunion

I was surprised at how its a linear game and a pretty quick main story. And the missions are there to build more playtime.

the main story i liked, it was nice getting to know Zack and seeing characters from the og 7 in a different perspective.

Teared up at the ending :(

I wish that the story slowed down, so to get to know other characters more esp ones that Zack meets for the first time (Cissnei, Aerith and Cloud) and parts that were just skipped/skimmed through like Costa del Sol vacation time or when Zack inherits the buster sword after getting back to Midgar etc.

I also liked pointing out stuff I can connect to the og 7 :D

🐀Emotional but also being a silly Sneep

Yakuza Kiwami 1

A fun game. The Majima Everywhere system did make it feel like a horror game at first lmao Majima really gave me jumpscares.

The story? .....I'd rather not think about it TwT

🐀 A devastated and also kind of paranoid Sneep :-Σ

Unpacking

Just a relaxing game to play. And it is one of those games I was interested in before cause how I saw it on social media but at the time couldn't play it myself so I'm grateful to play it through the game pass yay.

🐀 Satisfied Sneep (◡0◡) ~3

Yakuza Kiwami 2

I will say I had a lot of fun with K2, such as the cabaret club minigame coming back, taking a lot of selfies (esp in front of dead bodies - Killer Kiryu) and the Majima saga. But unfortunately so far it takes last place out of the RGG games for me.

The main story didn't have a focus on the multiple plots and just revealed all the plot twists at the end.

Ryuji, hes hot but I came to conclude that hes very overhyped. He didn't have that much screen time :/ If it weren't for his popularity and spin-off appearances, I would've forgotten about him.

And I think major of all of why its last place is THAT ending...what. Like really a fake bomb? And did they have to make out?

🐀 ...Confused Sneep ಠ_ಠ

Yakuza 3

This is the gayest game I've ever played.

I honestly feel betrayed I wasn't given a yaoi warning while starting up the game. I hear that 3 is infamous for some stuff and can be quite divided between fans. BUT bro its a game WORTH PLAYING play it for dad Kiryu time, play it for Mine lol JUST PLAY IT.

🐀 Got yaoi devastated and diagnosed with MineDai syndrome Sneep _(╥︣0╥๑ゝ∠)

Frog Detective Trilogy

Simple and hilarious lmao So far I've only played the first of the trilogy. It was cool to play an Aussie game.

🐀 Suddenly anti-books Sneep

Yakuza 4

Gameplay wise it was fun. Really like how interesting it was to play as different people and how they experience Kamurocho in their own lives. Cool change to always playing as Kiryu and from Kiryu's pov. Akiyama and Tanimura were fun to play as especially Tanimura's radio thing which I found interesting. Saejima's section I felt was limited, I think the police guarding everywhere scared me away from doing his substories; so I ended finishing his part earlier compared to everyone :( (luckily I got to do his side stuff at the finale part)

And I realized at the end I struggled with switching and adapting between each character's style. Because of that I very stuffed up at the final bosses and stuffed up so bad that I forgot how to play as Kiryu..

The story is..interesting lol It is definitely soap opera-ish. I actually got into it at the start and the part where Hamazaki spilled the tea but because of the freaking rubber bullets twist I couldn't take it seriously towards the end like I even laughed and was just howling. There were scenes where it was just presented dramatically, like theres one where it zoomed into peoples faces with a sfx which instantly made me think of those Indian soap opera memes lmao

🐀 Indian soap opera edit style Sneep O_o = ☉.☉ = o_0

Yakuza 5

Very recently finished the main story. And honestly I forgot how the story goes lmao its a very long game. The character profile mind map from would've really helped and also summaries like in 0 too (which I'm guessing is an improvement since that came out after 5)

It was fun how each character came with a second game (such as Saejima's Hunting Simulator for the Nintendo Wii and Project Diva)

The enemy encountering is very annoying /: separate enemies being close by each other in the same area ughhhh

🐀 I forgor Sneep....<;(' .' )>

#rat queen gaming #game review #kirby and the forgotten land #bayonetta 3 #xenoblade chronicles 3 #tears of the kingdom #final fantasy crisis core #unpacking #frog detective #yakuza like a dragon #yakuza 0 #yakuza kiwami #yakuza kiwami 2 #yakuza 3 #yakuza 4 #yakuza 5

[livinghologram]

Scott Pilgrim Fic musing

(TW: some dark NSFW or harm discussions at the end)

I wish I was a better writer because I had this idea of an asteral plane subplot in the SP universe as a fic where something big was going to happen that would be attacking the regular world and subspaces. Only the psychics feel/know about it. Mobile, a council of psychics member, has to ask his colleagues and the head of the council  to ensure Wallace's safety because he knows he doesn't have enough power alone to shield him from it.

This locks Mobile in a contract where he's now directly owned by the rest of the council to do their dirty work.

What dirty work you may ask? Think of the implications of manipulating subspace and those with the ability to drift in and out of it at a higher level than someone like Ramona passing through shortcuts. Think of the council like an illuminati of sorts ( in the least cheesy way possible) that does deals to influence change in the regular world at a supernatural level. Mobile could be forced to kill, make people disappear, change people's thoughts and dreams..

Poor Wallace has no idea what's happening, and Mobile is locked out of being able to access Wallace or anything connected to Wallace to explain. All  Wallace knows is that Mobile is in the middle of  astral projection as usual but can't be woken up.

The main hurdle is realizing that few are higher psychics and even fewer have direct access to the asteral plane to get answers.

☆

Plot points I'm throwing out here:

- a desperate and upset Wallace tries to get Todd involved (as the only other psychic he knows).

- it just opens a whole bunch of stuff including Todd needing to (poorly) explain the hierarchy in the psychic world and having to admit the vegan based ones aren't that "high up" but knows others.

-Todd being both impressed and jealous that Wallace is dating a council member of all people. He's never even met one before and had no idea one lived in Toronto. (Only about 20 have earned that title and are secretive ). Todd makes a mental note to not mess with Mobile if he wakes up.

- Todd (assuming this is post anime canon) is only kinda helping because he feels something big and bad is going to happen too.. and he will probably always have feeling for Wallace regardless of how awkward their interactions are now.

-Todd being both helpful and not helpful because Todd.

-Wallace having several emotional breakdowns realizing that he doesn't actually know a lot about Mobile despite dating for almost a year now.

-Wallace being embarrassed about the above point in his quest to find help

-Wallace to Todd:  "Why can't you just open a portal to there?" "You're just being a prick because you're jealous" .

 -Todd looks at him, exhausted- "I told you it doesn't work that way.." 

-a drunk Wallace screaming at Mobile's body pleading for instructions or answers. : " You never told me what I should do if this happens?!"  "What if you never wake up!?"  " can you even hear me?!"

-Mobile can hear him and its like a knife to the chest

-Wallace learning from other psychics about asteral projecting and what state the physical body stays in. Realived that Mobile will not require any medical or physical maintenance. The body is literally on pause indefinitely at this point (not like a regular person in a coma)

-DARK TURN:

Wallace gets so desperate he thinks about harming Mobile's body in some way to wake him.

-Mobile knows this but can only observe. Dreads how far Wallace may take that (especially if he's drinking)

-DEAD DOVE LEVEL DARK:  (TW: non-con NSFW) :

Wallace basically losing his sanity as this goes on. Starts getting non-con NSFW with Mobile's body as a sick mix of missing him and seeing if that would wake him.

It doesn't.

Wallace now has to live with what he's doing (and keeps doing) with Mobile's body when he thinks nobody will know..

☆

This would definitely be a long fic and a test on Mobile and Wallace's relationship outside of the supernatural horrors brewing.

#scott pilgrim #scott pilgram vs the world #mobile scott pilgrim #wallace wells #fic #mobillace

[fiixer]

It's truly amazing how quickly a safe-house can become anything but.  To one like himself, that looming threat was anything but new, when a single word to the wrong person could place a target over any point on a map and lead to a breach.  What had changed was the invaders and the danger they carried.  Once upon a time, the biggest concern was other humans.  Dangerous animals, the lot of them.  Now it seemed that, despite all that had changed, that part remained the same.  What was left of people were deadly, when even their mere presence could potentially mean death in the worst possible way.  Once the barrier of any chose safe-house was breached, one may fight the assailants to their end, and yet still remained the worry of what else came with them; would the virus that made them pass on further?  How far would it spread between those inside?  Even after the immediate danger had passed, there was no clearing, no end, no moment to catch breath in the aftermath.  That part was different.  

That part, he was still getting used to, or so would be the claim meant to explain a lapse in guard; for failing to throw a second lock, and shove a makeshift barricade over to further block the door prior to stepping out the balcony for what remnants of fresh air remained in city limits, masked by the lingering smell of infection and rot, gifting himself that moment of calm before it was off to work once again.  Five minutes - it could not have been more, and the moment of peace shattered to the tune of splintering wood and the deafening crack of a door giving way, followed so closely by the triumphant wail of a voice once considered human.  Some would argue it still was.  He, on the other hand, has evidence to the contrary, when returning inside for naught but a minute caught the attention of two "people" whose short-term goal apparently included mauling his face.  Regardless, he'd made it down four flights of stairs and out the building's entrance before more could show up, so one might take a guess how close the pair came to said goal.

When Jordi guns someone down, they stay down.

Two more bodies added to the unending list he'd stepped over in his lifetime, though these two fell without their names in mind.  That helps.  Removing something human as a name only makes pulling the trigger ten times easier.  That is not to say there is any hesitation on his part, regardless of who or what stands on the business end of his .45.  In the way is in the way, and some folks still had a job to do.  Oh, and isn't that a wonderful feeling, knowing one is still needed when everything else goes to shit.  People - normal humans, he understands as much as one can, and as long as there are two still living, one of them will eventually want the other dead.  And, sooner or later, both of them will need something.  In either scenario, that's where he steps in.

It's where he should be stepping now, were it not for delays.  Preparing for a simple retrieval and delivery of basic necessities should not have taken long, but what can he do?  The two earlier were a surprise, and now here he stands, hovering over the battered, bleeding body of a third; a third who clearly drew the short stick when it came to infection.  Marred skin on his face, multiple…were they eyes?  They sure as hell looked like eyes, but that couldn't be, right?  Right, they had to be pustules of pus and sick forming in a rather unfortunate area:  all over the infected man's face.  That he now lay in a bloody heap surely counts as the most merciful point of his existence, so it qualifies as the Good Deed for the day.

Another adversary down - with a line of bullet holes to show for the trouble - it was time to leave before more came searching for the source of the noise.  A gunshot rarely goes unnoticed, and now it's capable of attracting a swarm, thus he spares only a moment to reload; stepping over a spreading puddle of gore with sights set on the alley's mouth, leading to the main road out of this particular area of the city.  On supply runs, the next neighborhood over had a tendency to yield better results, and he was running low on a few things as well, so for the sake of himself and the promised paycheck, it's in his better interests to make the trek.  The sooner he moved, the better, as now there was even more distance to cover once he got the job done, as his prior hideout had been breached and ruined, thus it was on to the next, and he'd prefer to be there and locked away well before dark -

Barely out of his exit's reach, he comes to pause.  In this part of the city, the days were often quieter, more serene, easier to pick out wandering infected or even passing survivors by the sounds that echoed around them, so when a sharp crack  vibrates the air around him, he stops in his tracks, breath caught in his throat; waiting, listening.  Another crackle drawn out and laced with a sickening, wet noise distinct of flesh moving, tearing, stretching, like ripping raw meat off a bone.  After a moment, with it comes a howl of agony that has Jordi whipping around to face it, arm outstretched with his gun at the ready, finger on the trigger to drop whatever sons of bitches happened across his little party; to stop their little feast on fresh corpse laying about.  

The problem was, the sound wasn't from a new mob.  Oh, no, it came from one; one who sports bleeding holes in its chest, knee and arms, and lacked a lower jaw, where a few bullets destroyed the hinge entirely and left it hanging.  One who now stood as steady as a sapling in a windstorm, its wounds sprouting solid tendrils of squirming flesh.  On its arm, an arm too long for the body from which it hangs, was a sharp point, a spike formed from whatever wicked mutation brought a dead man to his feet again.  More snaked between tattered clothing, flailed about in warning, and suddenly those eyes - and eyes they were, all seven of them - fixated on Jordi once again.

When Jordi guns someone down, they stay down.

At least, until they don't.

#v; parties aren't meant to last #drabble tag tba #[ just a lil' thing i couldn't get out of my head ] #[ i've legit been feelin' the apocalypse vibe lately & i replayed RE6 so have jordi's first encounter with a j'avo-like thing skdljfsd ]

[fuzzydreamin]

for the writer meta asks, 3, 4, 14, 16, and 19

Thank you! Under the cut for being a bit longer~

3: What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Uh, every scene where I have to figure out the inbetweens and getting from plot A to plot C? Not every scene gets to be fun, but I mentioned previously that I do enjoy having the slow to give those scenes a greater payoff, but it's still not all that fun to write.

Seriously though, I have many scenes that I am excited to eventually get to - mostly the "and heres where we figure out how everything's going down" scenes. The climaxes of individual events.

4: Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

The bodies of the raiders still littered the road, stinking as rot began to take them, with, thankfully unmutated, flies buzzing around them and laying eggs in every wound and orifice they could find. Nora nearly gagged as she stepped around one, trying not to think about the fact that they were here because she had personally shot them and left them to decay. It had been them or her, she tried to remind herself. “You know, it’s nasty work but these raiders were carrying useful supplies. Ammo, stimpaks. That kind of stuff.” Preston commented, stopping to kneel down and inspect the body Nora had just passed, “People need everything they can get out here, and you can’t really be too picky about where it comes from. It’s best to loot them before someone else does.” Nora figured the emphasis was on those someone else's being other raiders and similarly unsavoury characters. It certainly did make sense to take what they had for their own survival's sake, but he wasn’t kidding about it being nasty - as Nora knelt to search the pockets of one of the rotting bodies herself she had to retreat for a moment as her gag reflex kicked in, leaving her spluttering on the side of the road. Though thankfully nothing came up this time. It took her two more attempts before she managed to fish the items out of the dead man's pockets.

Nora's first time actually looting a dead body (I don't count her picking up the laser musket, since that was on the ground and not in the dudes pockets). It's not something she naturally thought to do on her own, and it's not something she can just easily brush off and not think too much about right away either. She's never handled dead people before, and these guys are dead from her own hands - and also two days old and smelly.

14: At what point in writing do you come up with a title?

Mostly just... whenever I do? I try to have the majority of the story - or at least the larger beats - thought out and work out something that will reflect the story either symbolically or maybe more literally.

In the case of 'Give Me Sanctuary', I had a lot of it figured out before I started working on it and knew that ultimately it's a story about finding yourself and where you belong in the world. It's pretty easy to link that to the literally named Sanctuary Hills for being where the story starts and ends and is often returned to in between. It's probably one of the locations that will be seen the most in the fic, also becoming a home or at least temporary refuge for most of the main characters. So, I knew I wanted 'Sanctuary' in the title. After that I was just looked up songs using that word to find playlist vibes and landed on Shelby Merry's 'Sanctuary' - I was already familiar with her work and the song was indeed major vibes, so I took the a line from that song and made it the title. Another line from the same song is currently the working title of 'Book 1' for the fic - since it'll be done in parts. Might keep it, might not.

As for working on Al's story at some point, it still might change but for now it's 'Icarus into Acheron'. This is because their story is more about a descent into (self)destruction, and 3 in general has a lot of themes and references to religion and mythology, so it vibes with that.

Overall I don't stress on names too much. I just look at the story and symbolism, and go to songs or poems for inspiration if nothing comes to me right away. I also prefer to keep them short, either 2-4 words at best. Any more than that and I feel it's more of a sentence than a title, but it's not a hard rule.

16: Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

Nope. lol. Just kicking myself to write at all. Which I am, just slowly rn.

19: Is there something you always find yourself repeating in your writing? (favourite verb, something you describe ‘too often’, trope you can’t get enough of?)

Character remembering/recalling things. Guessing at things. A lot of being in their head in general. Might do that too much...

As for tropes, I'm not sure if/how it's classified as one, but I like giving characters that are flatter or more overlooked in the base content more to their characterisation. I like to expand on their motives and mentality.

I'm the kind of person who see's a minor character tied to just a single but important part of the story and I jump on them to dig my claws in and drag them back into the light like a cat playing with a mouse. I must dissect it!

#fuzzy.post #thank you💖

[lady-rose-moon]

I have you || Chapter Eleven ||

Hello to those who tuned in and welcome back to I have you! Posts are dropping down to one a day so I hope you like this!

The link to my main masterlist is ~~here~~

The link to my I have you masterlist and previous chapters is ~here~

Chapter Ten | Masterlist | Chapter Twelve

Please comment and reblog, it means a lot!

The illusion was set. Thor’s hand was properly hidden beneath one of Loki’s best illusions and Odin was invisible at their sides. They could hear his breathing on the wind if they focused enough but other than that, they could not tell that the ageing King was right beside them.   

Loki watched as the last remaining Dark Elves left their ship and headed for the rendezvous point where Loki would enact his plan. The mortal girl had spent too much time with the Aether, and he knew that when it was removed, she will die. The reality stone was never meant to possess someone, it was fluid just as he was but did not take forms of mammals for a reason.   

Knowing their eyes were on Thor and him, Loki glared down at the blackened sand beneath his leather boots and started on his role, “you know this plan of yours will get us killed?”   

Thor chuckled and looked out towards the ugly sky beyond before returning his gaze to his little brother, the brother he had sworn to protect once he first laid eyes on him. He knew that wherever Loki was, in the end, Thor would always be there to protect him. So, he followed Loki’s act, put on a show.   

“That is why mortals call such plans a ‘suicide mission’, Loki, do not try to be snarky. Better to go out in a blaze of glory, just like we always wanted,” Thor clapped Loki on the back and then offered his brother two beautifully forged daggers, “so why not go out in style, brother?”  

Loki stared at the daggers, hating how he will use them in just a few moments, and he looks up at Thor in disbelief, “you trust me enough, brother?”   

Thor chuckled softly and held Loki’s neck affectionately, “well, you’ve proved yourself worthy for a while now, brother, what’s another time going to hurt?”  

Loki frowned and looked into the eyes of his brother, mouthing a quick ‘I’m sorry’ before chuckling darkly and stabbing Thor in a space that would not be fatal, and he pushed him down the darkened dune of ruined sand. Following him, Loki mustered up the courage to continue his actions against his brother, “You really think I cared about Frigga? About any of you? Here’s a lesson ‘brother’, never trust a trickster.”  

Thor tried to call for Mjolnir, he knew Malekith was watching this play out with a great deal of curiosity and suspicion. Malekith was smart but Loki had tricked better, he had tricked Thanos into believing he would’ve handed over Midgard so easy. Malekith was lesser than Thanos and so, Loki could handle him. The song of Mjolnir flying to her owner sounded across the desolate sand. That is, until Loki cut off Thor’s hand and the scream that follow branded the little brother with so much guilt even if it was merely an act.  

“All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet,” Loki growled and watched his older brother cradling his stump. Loki started the next phase of his plan and grabbed the poor Midgardian girl and he sent a silent prayer to the Norns that they would send her soul to Valhalla because he knew that she would not be surviving, “Malekith!” Knowing he had grabbed the elf's attention, he pulled Jane up and held the dagger to her throat, “I am Loptr Laufeyson! The rightful King of Jötunheim! I bring you a gift!”   

With that, he flung Jane to Malekith’s feet and she looked up at him defiantly. She was a strong mortal and so, she would be blessed to go to Valhalla for all of her troubles.   

Passing Jane by, Malekith kicked Thor and rolled him over so he could observe, “look at me,” the monster commanded, and Thor opened his eyes and watched Jane carefully. The monster raised his hand and Jane’s body followed.   

Suspended in the air, Jane looked towards Thor before black and red mist flowed out of every pore in her body. The Aether looked as beautiful as it was formidable, it thrashed once set free of its host who had dropped down to the ground, eyes unseeing. Thor let out a roar of grief and looked over to his brother, “Loki, now!!”   

Loki dropped the illusion and Thor called Mjolnir into his hand, summoning the largest bolt of lightening that he could and throwing it right at the Aether. It took a few moments, but the Aether burst and became little crystals in the air. It wasn’t over. The Aether could never be destroyed. It was an Infinity Stone! Malekith watched the destruction of the Aether but did not have time to point out how badly they had lost because out of nowhere, Odin appeared and thrust Gungnir through his heart.  

“Your death came at the hand of Odin, monster. I am fulfilling my father’s duty,” Odin growled to the Elf and slowly, Malekith drew his last breath, his eyes closing and the blood from the wound seeping into the black sand below.  

Now, onto other matters. That Kursed. He watched his master die and let out a battle cry so loud that it shook the fallen ships behind him. Odin stood beside his sons with Gungnir in hand.  

“What do we do, father!?” Thor yelled and turned to look at Odin, who now looked weary and old. Thor suspected that things weren’t going to be easy and now that this beast was the last and therefore free to do whatever it wanted, he panicked.   

Loki watched as the Kursed approached and he threw Odin and Thor out of the way of the beast’s arm and he took the brunt, the air being sucked out of him as he flew backwards. This beast will be a tough one to get rid of, he knew, but with the three most powerful men on Asgard fighting against one Dokkalfarian beast, they would win. They would end the war that had been going on for over five thousand years.   

The battle raged for a solid five hours. Magic, hammers and spears flew through the sky and eventually, Loki had the monster cornered. Their victory was at hand! That was until a sword ran through Loki’s stomach and seeped into his organs and blood. ‘Ah,’ Loki thought, looking down at the blade in his stomach before the monster pulled it out and pushed him to the ground, ‘this is true death.’  

Odin got between the Kurse and Loki, taking the next hit and the poisoned blade pierced his heart and the old King stared at the monster in shock before falling to the sand below just as Loki had.   

Thor screamed at the loss of his father and the possible demise of his brother and reared up his lightening before throwing Mjolnir and charging it with as much electricity as possible, burning the monster to a crisp and killing him. The hammer dropped uselessly out of sight, but Thor had bigger problems, he sprinted over to his brother and held him up.  

“Come on, Loki, open your eyes! Open your eyes, little brother!!!” The God yelled and Loki’s eyes opened faintly to look at his brother, “let’s get home, shall we? Can you stand? It’ll be over soon, I promise.”   

Loki weakly got to his feet and pressed a hand to his stomach as he groaned in pain, looking up at his big brother for help with stability and then he turned his head to Odin and remembered his words to him in Frigga’s rooms, ‘If he dies, that is his fault. I shall not help him,’ and he decided that he would stick to that promise. Thor knew Loki would not save their father but that does not mean he didn’t hope Loki would pull out the Time Stone and change his mind to save the Allfather.   

The Bifrost opened again and a squadron of Einherjar emerged and once they saw Odin on the ground, dead, they walked over to his side and lifted him onto the stretcher Heimdall had ordered them to bring. They then turned to look at Thor and bowed their heads with respect, “my King,” they all spoke, and Thor froze in horror while Loki smiled warmly. At least he would not be King again.  

Promptly after returning to Asgard, Thor picked Loki up in his arms and flew across the city with the help of Mjolnir. When they arrived at the Castle, Thor quickly took Loki to the healing chambers and burst through the doors on the verge of tears, “please help my little brother! He’s been poisoned by a Dokkalfarian blade! Please, Lady Eir, you must help!”  

The head healer looked to Loki, curled up in Thor’s arms and frowned. She had seen the Prince in many states when coming into her healing rooms but poisoned? This wasn’t good for anyone. If that poison got to his heart, he would not be alive to see the next sunrise. She nodded her head and walked into a private room with the brothers, helping Loki up onto a bed and frowning with sympathy when Loki cried out in pain from having to move the massive puncture in his stomach.  

Activating the soul forge, Eir took note that Loki’s seiðr was keeping the poison around the wound and she smiled fondly at him, brushing sweaty hair away from his eyes, “you can stop that now, your highness, we have you here. We’re going to help that poison get out of you, I promise.”  

Loki nodded weakly and shuddered in relief when he dropped the spell he was holding, feeling Eir’s seiðr activate and keep the poison at bay. Weakly, he looked to Thor with a soft smile, “g-get Y/N, she n-needs to be here,” he whispered, and Thor nodded, leaving the healing chambers in search of Loki’s soulmate.  

Only minutes later, you rushed into the room and sat beside Loki, his hand in yours and you rested your forehead against his shoulder, “oh, you idiot! At least you didn’t die but poisoned?! Loki, why...” you whispered, and Loki frowned but could not find the strength to respond to his beloved.   

“Let me see the wound, Eir,” you spoke, turning to Eir with a fire in your eyes and then you stood, watching the healer step away to give you some space. Upon viewing the wound, you hovered your hand over it and closed your eyes. A silky black substance left Loki’s wound and wrapped around your hand and seeped into your skin, making you fall to the ground only to be caught by Thor before you could hit the tiles.   

“You silly child! Why would you poison yourself! Prince Loki would’ve made a full recovery in this room! Especially in your condition! That was an incredibly stupid thing to do!” Eir scolded you and conjured up another bed for you beside Loki.  

Loki was confused. Your condition? What condition? You seemed perfectly fine when I saw you this morning! He couldn’t move a muscle, his body now unused to having half of the poison taken from his body and transferred into his beloved. He wanted to turn and look at you, to yell at you for being stupid enough to take the poison! Eir said he would be fine.   

“Loki?” Came a pained voice from beside the bed he was laid on and he wished he could turn to look at his beloved but his neck hurt too much so he just made a pained noise for confirmation, “ah, you’re awake. I’m sorry, honey, if I lose this baby… it’s not your fault.”  

Baby? You weren’t pregnant! He hadn’t- not since- oh. That first night of his imprisonment. But wait! That was three months ago! How were you… why didn’t you tell him before that? In response, he let out a little whine and you smiled tiredly and giggled.  

“Yeah, a baby, Lokes… Your smart brain figured out when we made it too, didn’t you?” you mumbled, your eyes looking up at the golden ceiling with a sad smile on your face until you saw a glimmer of green surround your belly and you turned to look at Loki with a soft smile, “and this is how I know you’ll be an amazing daddy to our child, Loki, you care so much now…”  

Loki smiled to himself before his bed dipped on the side away from you and he reached out to see who it was that dared to bother this moment only to smile when he felt Sleipnir’s comforting magic wrap around his. The little boy was meant to stay with his Auntie Serenity while his parents were in the hospital, but he really did live up to the standards of Lokison.  

“Mummy? Auntie Sere said that you and mama weren’t very well and that I couldn’ visit you but I couldn’ just leave you here in the quiet!” his little boy whined and cuddled up into Loki’s side, shivering with sobs, “I missed you, mummy, those bad guys attacked and Auntie Sere protected me but she was all red at the end…”   

Loki weakly lifted a hand and ran his nails through his son’s hair, smiling lovingly at him and enjoying how innocent his child was to the terrors of the world around him. He couldn’t speak to his boy but he hoped that Sleipnir would understand anyway that Loki was sorry. The boy merely curled up more and looked up at his mummy with a look that Loki knew would shatter his heart if he saw it.  

Days passed and the poison reached its peak and then left, Eir watching the progress between the two of them. Thor’s coronation was set for the day after Loki would be discharged. Discharge day came and Loki took his first steps out into the castle. Things were still the same but so very different now. Odin was dead. Frigga was saved. Sleipnir was safe.  

Two days rolled by before a soft knock rapped on the door and Healer Falanson stepped in, taking in the sight of Prince Loki sitting on the edge of his bed while you were walking around, seiðr glowing on your hands.

"Healer Falanson," Loki greeted with a smile, watching the healer quickly return it. The God kept his back straight as the psychiatrist sat on your bed in front of him. "I assume you're here to discuss the trauma of Svartalfheim?"

"Actually," the healer mumbled and smiled, looking over at you with a silent appreciation that you were in the room, "I'd like to talk about what happened after the Bifrost."

Loki stared at the Healer as if he was mad. He probably is, the prince thought to himself. "No," Loki spat, turning away from the healer to look at you.

"My Prince, you have just experienced so much trauma today, having to go through with a plan that harmed your brother and killed King Odin," the Healer replied softly, watching as Loki's body tensed at the mention of Odin's death, "both of which you feel responsible for."

"I couldn't save Odin," Loki whispered, remembering the blank expression on Odin's dead face, "I didn't wish to save him as I had for Frigga. Tell me that I am wrong and I shall forever insist that I am right."

The healer sighed and nodded his head before leaning forward, "what happened when you fell, Loki?"

Loki shifted in his seat at the thought of ever describing the horror he experienced on that ship so far away from Asgard and the comforts of his youth. "Nothing," he brokenly replied, "I simply got woken up from my childish state to be welcomed into the world of freedom."

"Freedom is life's greatest lie," you whispered, watching as Loki's eyes snapped to you, "once you accept that, in your heart, you will know peace."

Memories flashed behind Loki's eyes of the illusion of you whispering those words into his ear constantly when he begged for his freedom. Unconsciously, he shuffled as far away from you as he could on the bed, not registering Falanson watching his reaction curiously.

"Who told you that, Loki? Who put those words into your mouth?" the Healer pressed on, watching Loki tremble and begin to form tears in his eyes, "did they break you?"

"No," Loki spat, his eyes full of rage and insecurity as he glared at the healer, "no. I committed those acts against Midgard by my own choosing!"

You sighed and shook your head, sitting beside him and slowly slipping your hand into his, "did you? Or are you just saying that to make us feel better?"

Loki weakly looked away from you and ignored the trembling in his hands, "I wish to speak no more of this topic today."

Falanson sighed and nodded, standing from your bed and walking to the door, "then I shall bid you good evening, my Prince."

Exhausted, Loki curled up his legs and laid on his side away from you and drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Thor came bursting into yours and Loki's healing room, slamming the doors behind him as he panted. Seeing you staring at him in shock, the God of Thunder caught his breath and groaned, "they're naming me King the morning after Loki has left the healing halls! I am to be King in the morning!"

You shook your head and crossed your arms as a playful smirk drew across your lips, "goodness, with you at the helm of Asgard, we're all doomed."

Thor groaned and slid down the door dramatically, melancholy thunder rumbling outside, "do not tease me, Y/N, I am very nervous!"

"Nervous, brother?" Loki piped up, taking his nose away from his book to smile at his brother, picking up the same question he had asked a year and a half ago the day he ruined Thor's coronation.

Thor, quickly catching on, shrugged and sighed, "nervous? When have you known me to be nervous?"

"Well," Loki whispered, a smirk spreading across his lips, "there was one time in Nornheim-"

"Ah, those were not nerves, brother, 'twas the thrill of battle!" Thor interjected with a grin, feeling much better when joking with his brother.

The brothers shared a warm smile and you stood by, content with the fact that their bond was growing strong again now that Odin's toxicity was gone.

A few hours later, Lady Eir made her final inspection and you both were allowed to leave, Sleipnir waiting at the door for you and for his mummy.

Loki smiled as he thought of how he still had you and his thoughts as he left the healing rooms mirrored that. ‘I am so lucky to have her.  She deserves the whole Nine Realms.'

As the two of you opened the door to Loki's chambers, the God sighed in relief and grasped your hand tenderly, leading you into the room with Sleipnir following behind. The youngest Lokison hugged Loki's leg before disappearing past the archway and the sound of a door closing indicated that the child had gone to play in his room.

"You didn't need to take the poison for me, Y/N," Loki whispered, watching as you walked over to the window seat and sat down with a grin, your eyes meeting his, "you could have killed yourself."

You hummed and shrugged as your head tilted to the left, "and yet you were willing to die to save Thor."

Loki stiffened and frowned as he made his way over to you. You eyed him warily as he approached, biting your lip as your eyes scanned his leather-clad legs, the shift of the fabric echoing in the silent room as he approached. Distantly, you registered your legs pressing together as you tried to hide your growing arousal.

"I wasn't willing to die," the God hissed, grabbing your hand as you registered the desperation in his eyes, "not after the Bifrost incident. Norns, I would never leave you alone."

Desperately, you stood from the window seat and cupped his cheek, your eyes searching his own for any sense of a lie. His hand reached up to cup your own tenderly and he smiled lovingly at you, "trust me, I could never leave your side. Not now nor ever."

You smiled at him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before you watched his hands come to cup your stomach, his eyes filling with tears as he felt the budding seiðr of your new baby within your womb.

With a small smile, you rested your hands on his and tenderly whispered, "our second chance."

Loki nodded and smiled at you as he whispered, "vårt nye liv å starte sammen."

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

Translation: vårt nye liv å starte sammen - our new life to start together

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

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #tom hiddleston #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader smut #loki smut #loki laufeyson x reader #hot loki #mcu loki #jotun loki x reader #reblog please #tom hiddleston character x reader #lokismut #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki x yn #loki x female reader smut #loki imagine #loki oneshot #loki series #loki x you #loki (marvel) #loki

[tiredcowpoke]

TITLE: Regarding the Sinclairs [3] PAIRING: Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader REQUEST: Unprompted. BLURB: You had always assumed the stories of time travel in your family were just that. Stories. At worst, maybe an inside joke. However, your world starts to shift when your grandfather leaves his home to you in his will. The old Sinclair house, one that has been passed down for generations. Taking up the task of moving into and upgrading the home, a man dressed like he just stepped out of a western arrives, unconscious, on your porch with a letter in his hand. WARNINGS: None for this chapter. NOTE: I apologize for the wait! I’m posting this chapter and the most recent is queued to post later this week.

Arthur was withdrawn the next afternoon–which you figured you should have expected.

You could only imagine the confusion he was experiencing, as much as you tried to explain what you could to him when you found him playing with the main hall’s light switch when you came back downstairs. You weren’t much of a historian, not from the period he was from anyway. Though, you could make an educated guess that he had no idea how most modern technologies worked.

Considering you not exactly knowing the details of how they worked either, it made you realize just how common a lot of them were. There was also the issue of trying to explain things in a way that didn’t belittle his intelligence or talk to him like a kid. Still, explaining things like how you didn’t have an outhouse and how the toilet works, along with the sink and shower, was just odd. Still, Arthur was a little more curious than you had expected, and a fast learner.

Still, it was a bit of a process. You wondered if you could get culture shock from a country you never left, but traveling this far ahead in time probably left him with the same experience.

So, his growing quietness in the evening made sense. You were trying to make something you both could eat from what little food you moved in with. Toast and eggs, which wasn’t amazing but it was something at least. Though, Arthur’s voice from behind you pulled you from your thoughts.

“I’m dead, ain’t I?”

You cast him a glance over your shoulder, meeting his gaze for a few moments before you returned to making sure the eggs didn’t burn. The answer was a simple one: yes. Yet, you didn’t want to say it too bluntly. Arthur seemed pretty collected so far, but there was only so much a person could take. You probably would have been freaking out if you were in his situation.

Still, you let out a sigh as you reached out to burn off the burner.

“Well, you have a grave,” you replied, “It’s actually part of a larger historical site, but…well, it’s just a headache waiting to happen trying to figure out if there’s a body under there if you’re sitting here.”

“I ain’t gonna pretend to make sense of that,” he muttered, “...So, you seen it?”

“When I was thirteen,” you replied as you pulled some plates from the cupboard, “I had a history teacher take us there as part of our schooling.”

“What kinda school takes kids to see a grave?”

“The gang you ran with is actually pretty well known among old west scholars,” you said around a small chuckle, “Some of them, at least. Your journal is actually a commonly cited source. I guess my teacher figured it would be worthwhile to see.”

He didn’t reply to that as you put the food onto two plates and brought them to the table. You couldn’t read Arthur’s expression much as you passed him a plate, not too sure what he made of all of that. It was a lot of information to process–if you were still trying to wrap your head around him being here, you had no doubt it was ten times worse for him.

“I’m actually pretty sure there are some of Jack Marston’s books here somewhere, if you want to read those,” you continued as you sat down.

“Little Jack?”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” you replied with a soft nod, “He wrote about the final years of his dad’s life. Outside of your journal, I’ve seen those books mentioned a lot too.”

Arthur fell silent at that, too. You could see an almost far-off look in his eyes, a stab of sympathy hitting your gut. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, his gaze turning to meet yours.

“Eat. You’ve taken in a lot of information today, you don’t need to sort through all of that right now.”

You really didn’t know how to handle Arthur in this situation–especially with the fact that you were still trying to come to terms with it yourself. Still, he seemed to take your suggestion as he started to pick at what was on his plate. As mentioned, the meal wasn’t much at the moment but you were a little hungrier than you thought you were.

“You think it’d be wise to go see it?” Arthur asked after a moment, the question taking you a little off guard.

You stared at him for a moment before you turned it over in your head. There was the fact that if Arthur’s actual body was still buried under that grave and he was currently sitting in your kitchen, you didn’t know if that would change anything about that site. Yet, outside of him appearing here, nothing really did change. It was a little too mind-boggling to sort through. However, there was also the mental toll. You didn’t know how you would feel upon seeing your own grave, but…

“You want to see it?”

Arthur let your question sit for a few moments, seeming to debate that within himself. “Guess…well, might help me see the full picture here.”

“I’ll be willing to take a day or two drive up there with you, but only if you’re certain. I can’t make any promises on what will happen.”

“Thought you had the answers to everythin’,” he muttered sarcastically as you let out a huff in return.

“Well, I don’t. I really don’t.”

“I guess I do want to see it,” Arthur continued around a sigh, “I never really…got to see how things played out.”

“I can’t imagine seeing my own grave. I figured it might be the same feeling for you, but if you think it’ll be worthwhile, I’ll take you up to the site.”

You still weren’t sure what your role was in all of this. Francis had written that he saw a ‘favorable outcome’ with Arthur in your care, but you didn’t know if it was someone who got him on his feet and he took off eventually to do his own thing or if this was supposed to be some long-term situation. Still, you didn’t want to hinder the process unless you felt it was absolutely warranted.

“Just…give me a couple days,” you continued, picking up your now empty plate, “I’m still trying to adjust to all of this too.”

                                                             ***

Honestly, you had completely forgotten your parents were coming up to see you.

Between helping Arthur adjust to the time period, you keeping an eye on when your online courses were supposed to start, and planning this little road trip, the stress in you wasn’t hard to miss. For the most part, nothing really needed to be done urgently. Your mother had texted that she was bringing you some extra food along with some money to help you out. Yet, you still hadn’t told them about Arthur.

You honestly had no idea how to even start the conversation. ‘Hey, you remember my great, great, great uncle Francis? Yeah, he dropped Arthur Morgan on my doorstep. I’ve been trying to help him settle into the modern world, it’s a big change from the late nineteenth century.’  

It wasn’t a conversation you were going to have. Not yet, anyway.

“You were an outlaw, right? You any good at coming up with aliases?”

Arthur glanced at you over his shoulder as you quickly walked down the stairs onto the main floor, furrowing his eyebrows somewhat.

“I guess. Why? Your parents gonna turn me in?”

“No, but my dad’s interested in old west stuff. Your name might cause some recognition and I don’t know if we want to deal with that right now.”

“Dutch used to have a universal one that I used a couple times. Tacitus Kilgore.”

“I’ve seen that alias referred to when talking about Dutch, it might not be the best idea. You have any others? Plus, you will get looks with a name like that.”

“If ya care so damn much, guess there’s also Arthur Callahan.”

“It’s…still odd, but that works.”

“Why’re you so worked up?” Arthur asked, making you let out a soft huff.

“I don’t know, maybe because I have a long-dead outlaw in my living room who was part of a rather infamous gang. I’m just…a little stressed. The alias helps, I can deal with the rest.”

You didn’t mean to get snippy with him, but at the moment you could only feel a tight ball of stress sitting in your gut. Regardless, Arthur seemed to be cooperative for the most part as you continued to unpack–it would reduce your parent’s stay into just a visit, but with how things had played out recently you figured that was a good thing. For the most part, upstairs was pretty good to go. There was a spare bedroom that you figured you would give to Arthur the next day so he didn’t have to continue to sleep on the couch.

At least, that was the least you could do. You didn’t want to make the assumption that he’d be staying indefinitely, but with what you knew, you couldn’t find it in yourself to just send him off after a couple days.

It was around evening when the familiar car pulled up to the driveway, Arthur not exactly looking impressed with the added company, but you had caught his curiosity about the cars. Though he kept the questions to himself for now, it seemed. You had convinced him to change into a shirt and jeans, something he already had. You figured it looked ‘modern’ enough for the town that he wouldn’t raise any questions from your family.

Though, of course, the surprise upon your mother’s features when she saw him was expected.

“Oh, I didn’t know you had company so soon.”

“Nice to meet you, m’am,” Arthur greeted as your mother gave him a friendly smile and nod, though the question in her gaze when she looked at you was hard to miss.

“Yeah, this is Arthur. We’re doing a roommate sort of situation,” you explained, hoping the little story you made up would be enough, “I figure it’d help with some bills and he’s been a great help with unpacking.”

“Well, as long as that’s what you want…” your mother said under her breath as you took some bags of food from her, casting a glance at Arthur and your father over your shoulder.

“It’s fine,” you replied.

It wasn’t like you had much choice in the matter, anyway. You still weren’t sure if you should be angry at Francis or impressed he had managed to do all of this with no indication that he was. Still, you tried not to show too much stress in your actions as you helped your mother put some of the food away.

Still, your father, ever the host, had roped Arthur into helping him set up that fire pit in the backyard he had always talked about. You caught Arthur’s gaze with an apologetic smile before returning to your task.

As much as the situation seemed to be settling, you couldn’t help but feel you had a couple long days ahead of you.

#my writing. #arthur morgan x reader

[murderbirds]

GOTHAM: DECAY

So. Guess who is making another AU

Gotham: Decay is an AU that diverges from the actual show around season 2, but properly starts in season 3. In this version, after killing Theo Galavan with Jim, Oswald decides to leave Gotham with one specific goal in mind, try to find a way to bring back the dead.

With Penguin away, there is no one there to protect Bruce from Azrael, which leads to Tabitha getting killed, Jim dying as well, and Alfred sacrificing himself to protect Bruce. Bruce, blinded by rage, tries to kill Azrael, but fails, however, before Galavan can finish him off, the League of Shadows steps in and takes Bruce under their wing while Galavan is killed once more.

Bruce starts his training under Ra's to become his apprentice, his dark knight and the one that he chose to become the next Demon Head. Bruce agrees under the agreement that they bring back Alfred. Him, Selina and Ivy began searching for Bruce in whatever way they can with Jim's help who, due to his injury, can no longer continue his work in the GCPD, so he becomes a bounty hunter instead.

Lee eventually has her son, James Junior, with whom she lives Gotham. The Riddler finally makes makes his debue, but without Jim around, no one is able to stop hom, so he is able to continue his job in the GCPD and outsmart Gotham's greatests, with Butch and his men being his favorite victims.

Without Jim around, there is a break out and Arkham explodes, leading to a lot of deaths, including Firefly and Fries. Fish manages to escape along with a handful of metas.

Meanwhile, with Oswald gone, Butch is still the king, but Barbara is not too happy as she starts making movements to try and take over his power. A war starts brewing in Gotham, and feeling that this is her fault, Silver decides to take her uncle's title as Azrael and becomes a vigilante using the training she received from Tabitha.

The Arkham break out does happen, however, without Jim there, the subjects are quickly retrieve and some end up getting killed. The only one who remains at large is Fish herself and the court of owls is hunting her like a hawk. With Ra's having his apprentice, the Court is left on her own devices. Due to how many people were lost during the attack, Edward becomes one of their scientists instead and is officially released.

A year passes. Gotham is divided between Gilzean and Kean. The war that they bring is far bloodier than anyone has ever seen. Oswald finally returns along with a book written by one Aleister Crowley. The elections are around the corner and Oswald wishes to run for mayor, and so he leaves to recruit one Edward Nygma to join his side. Edward is torn at first, after all, he has a pretty nice thing going on. In order to get him by his side, Oswald reveals to him that he has an advantage since he can now control the dead. He only wishes for Edward to act as his spy within the GCPD, nothing else.

Edward is skeptical at first, after all, ghosts don't exist. Oswald shows him how they very much do by bringing back his own army of the undead, which includes Jerome Valeska, James Gordon, Firefly, Freeze and every single person who died in Arkham as well as tabitha, much for Edward's surprise. Oswald reveals that she simply hasn't suffered enough for his mother's death. He did speak to her afterwards, and still does occasionally, but he won't put her through the pain of living again.

Oswald can give those that he brings back a corporeal body once again, however, they can only maintain this body for as long as they obey him. Now, he no longer goes by the Penguin. He is now the Vulture.

With his army of the undead, Oswald begins combating the gangs in the city, granting him the public love he needs to run for mayor with a chance of winning.

The AU's main story starts during the mayoral campaign, with Edward being torn between helping Oswald and risk going back to being subservient to someone else or continuing doing his own thing and risking making Oswald his enemy.

(Doodle oncept of what some of the designs might look like)

#gotham #batman #dc comics #dc #penguin #riddler #gotham:decay