#this man was murdered horrifically in his own apartment

[dadboddean]

pride is still a privilege for most of the world especially non white communities

#idk if i worded this right #but fuck it’s bleak sometimes #coming back home and actually being worried about being outed #or getting caught with someone #like obviously i think i have the means of getting out safely #but i know that’s not the case for a majority of the queer community who are here #like it is such a privilege in the west #and white people don’t even recognize it #like making jokes about homicide (homocide) like yes you are so funny #like i cannot think about pride in bangladesh without thinking about xulhaz #this man was murdered horrifically in his own apartment #we lived in the same neighborhood #and i cannot explain how it felt as a young queer person to read about it #and have to listen to peoples opinions about it #all because this man chose to come out publicly #i hope someday i can come home and bring a person i love and love them publicly #but for now i’m glad to be alive and to have the small bangladeshi queer community as a part of me

[wingedhallows]

my choice; sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader | 2.3k words plot: nothing was ever choice, so helping the order and and finding your way back to the love of your life is finally your choice. authors note: hi hi, so this was requested by my dear scarlett @arwensloanebarnes & I'm so happy to have finally written it. I hope you like it, even if i've put my own little twist on it. love u & thank you for always throwing ideas and words of motivation towards me <3

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“I want to break up.” His kind, lovely eyes now glared at her in disbelief. His arm slacked off the doorframe. His demeanor changed, his coolness gone. You watched him crumble, watched him break. His mouth opened and he didn’t say a word, your gaze wandered to his feet.

The shame washed over you like a cold shower. “Break up?” You couldn’t look at him, the man you loved to the moon and back, the man you would die for. That’s exactly why you were doing this, why you had to push him away.

“What the fuck do you mean?” He barked as he took a step towards you.

“I want to end our relationship.” You spoke, voice without emotion. He stared you down, hands in fists.

“End? What-what the fuck, you can’t just end our relationship like this, we’re Bonny & Clyde, we’re ride or die, we’re made for each other… we belong with each other.” He tried, his arms flailing around in anguish. You bit the inside of your cheek in hopes of stopping yourself from bursting out in tears.

“Not anymore, Black. I don’t date blood traitors.”

He stumbled back, his face in an expression you never hoped to see. It tore you apart, your chest felt tight as you watched him. “What?” You took a breath and grabbed your bag.

“Take care, Sirius.” Before you could turn back and tell him why you acted this way, why you had to hurt him in such a horrific way and take everything back, you dragged yourself through the door and left him behind.

You stood hidden behind a trash container, sparks flying and grunts audible. Damario and Vincius, two fellow Death Eaters, gleamed with confidence as they had cornered Albus Dumbledore in an alleyway. Their wands were held high, smirks on their faces.

“The Dark Lord will award us dearly, Vincius.” Damario spat, yellow teeth faced your way.

“I don’t think he will, Damario.” Albus tried as he popped a lemon drop in his mouth. He fished his wand from his long clothing and without a word spoken, his wand unleashed a spell so powerful that the both of them flew several feet. Damario grabbed Vincius’ arm and in a flash they were gone. 

Albus didn’t put his wand away as he turned towards you, eyes set on your frame.

“You can come out now.” He said and you cursed yourself, of course he would feel your presence. You tucked your wand away and raised your arms.

“You’re more guarded with me?” You tried, his face didn’t change though, your joke fell through.

“Of course, Damario and Vincius aren’t remotely as skilled as you are, Y/N.” You gave him a smile and stepped further towards him.

“Thank you, Headmaster.” He frowned and took a step towards you, wand still raised. “What brings you here, Y/N?” He paused to eye you.

“Do you wish to murder me as well?” The smile vanished from your face and you shook your head. “No, I do not wish to murder you.” You paused as well as you let your arms fall to your side.

“Then what is it?” You sighed and fished a small container from your jacked, and pulled your wand from your other.

“I wish to help you.” He frowned and cocked his head. “You mean betray your master?” You chuckled and shook your head.

“I do not have a master, nothing of what happened with me or my friends was my choice. I wish to help you, help you defeat Voldemort and make decisions of my own.” He lowered his wand and took a step towards you.

“I’ll show you.”

Without hesitation you raised your wand to your temple and pulled the desired memory from your mind and bottled it up for Albus to take. He took the bottle from you and left you behind, his form vanished with a worp of his surroundings.

You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and lit it with the lighter Sirius had gifted you on your sixteenth birthday. You eyed the small object and sighed, you’d make everything right.

Starting with this, with your memories. Would Albus believe you? He needed to, those memories were reason enough, right?

“We gave you so much freedom, so much space to become a respectable young woman, a great witch but what do you do?” Your mother paused, wand raised at you.

“We feed you, we provide you with education and a roof over your head and you go around whoring yourself out to a blood traitor!?” A woman, you didn’t know, held you by your neck, wand pressed into your flesh.

“You think you can go against us? Against the ways of the noble Devereux household? Every member of this family will serve the Dark Lord and his ways, my dear daughter.” Her fingers crawled into your arm as you tried to get away, desperately.

Another man and your father came to your mothers side. You stared at your father, tears in your eyes as he watched you.

“Stop fighting.” He tried to calm you down. You didn’t listen, your body twisted and wound with as much effort as you could manage. Screams and tears left your face, desperate to set an end to this madness.

Your mothers cold fingers grabbed your cheeks, nothing but hatred visible in her old face.

“Stop fighting it, dear. It was never your decision to make.”

Without wasting another minute, she placed her wand on the soft flesh of your lower arm and branded you, damned you.

Albus had sent his phoenix with a letter. It had said to invite you to a meeting, to announce your plans of being a double agent and to apologize for having thought ill of you.

You had learnt the hard way to not take others' words personally.

“They’ll insult you, take your appearance as an insult.” He spoke as he tapped his wand on the door of Sirius’ parents house.

His parents were arrested not too long ago, the house was now empty. You sighed as you watched the house appear through rumbles. Why exactly this damned house?

“I’d be disappointed if not.” You sighed as you flipped the cigarette away. Your hair moved in the subtle cold wind and your heart beat like it’ll break down any minute from all the effort.

Albus didn’t answer and stepped inside, you followed him. Your coat found its way onto the overflowing coat hanger. The dark hallway seemed too familiar, making your heart skip a beat. The old wizard walked forward, he was greeted with bright hello’s and smiles.

You kept your head high, hands shoved in your jeans as you followed Albus into the kitchen. Lily threw her hand to her mouth and James shoved her behind himself. Remus watched you, body motionless. You didn’t look his way, you couldn’t.

“Albus, what is the meaning behind this?” Minerva questioned, hand propped on the dark wooden table.

“Why would you bring a Death Eater in our midst? What the fuck are you doing here?” James threw your way. You stood behind the headmaster as your mouth shifted into a grin.

“Lovely to see as well, James.” You paused, fingers playing with your lighter inside your jacket.

“How’s Harry?” James' face contorted into hatred as Sirius raised his wand. “Don’t you take his name in your filthy mouth.” Your eyes wandered to the man you missed the most. He looked good, tired, broken but strangely enough, good.

“My bad.” You stopped as Albus eyed you, demanding you to finish whatever this was.

Albus sat down, you did as well. “Y/N offered to act as a double agent.” He paused and took a sip from his cup.

“After careful consideration, she has proven herself to be trustworthy.” Sirius huffed in disbelief, his wand still tightly clasped in his right hand.

“How are you so sure?” Sirius spoke, eyes in slits. You couldn’t fight the urge to smirk. He still had it, the fire.

“I saw Y/N’s memories.” The room stilled of all motion, attention once again on you.

“What memories?” Albus shook his head at Sirius' question. “Not my place to tell, Sirius.” He eyed you down and left it at that.

You closed the room to the restroom, turning off the light. Someone’s hand on your elbow as he dragged you towards the living room. The back of his head gave him away.

“What do you want, Sirius?” He closed the door and turned around. “What do I want?” He spat, his hand on the cabinet by the door.

“What do you want?” You crossed your arms, face in an emotionless mask. “I want to help you.” He shook his head, his lips formed in a cruel snarl.

“Don’t give me this crap, help us? You turned your back on us, you became one of them.” Your eyes left his face, shame crawling up your back.

“I’m sorry.” You simply stated. He swallowed, eyes leaving your face. You were never good at arguing when you were at fault, especially not with Sirius.

“You’re sorry? Alice and Frank were tortured into insanity, Y/N!” He yelled, face turning red.

“Marlene was murdered, her whole family wiped out!” He threw his fist on the couch.

“Our friends died, butchered like animals and you’re sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it, Y/N.” He came towards you.

“You ripped my heart out and became one of those, those disgusting vile creatures, like it was nothing to you!” He was now yelling in your face.

“You disgust me.” He spat. You swallowed and watched him walk away from you. His hand was on the handle as you spoke.

“It wasn’t my choice.” 

He turned around, face hard and mad. You looked away, eyes already collecting tears.

“Nothing ever was my choice.” His eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You let your hands fall to your side as you looked at him once again.

“I didn’t become one of them.” You paused to take a breath.

“They made me one of them.”

He watched you, his eyebrows still furrowed.

“Made you?” You tried to fight the tears but one of them left your eyes either way.

“My mother had me pinned to the ground.” He held onto the couch as his eyes widened.

“To brand me as one of their own.” You pushed some hair behind your ear as you took a deep breath.

“I had no choice but to belong to one side. Reaching out to Albus was my choice, betraying Voldemort was my choice and being a double agent was my choice, this is for once my choice and I’ll take responsibility for it.” 

You wiped the tears off your face. “I understand that you hate me, that I broke your heart and that I destroyed our friends lifes and I’ll take that guilt of not having saved Alice, Frank or Marlene but I’ll do my best to save Harry, Lily and James. To save Remus and You. I’ll do whatever it takes, so please, let me make this right.” You spoke, voice strained.

He watched you, eyes glossy.

“Why’d you have to push me away?” You gave him a sad smile.

“I had to keep you safe.” He nodded and turned to leave. Just as he opened the door he spoke again.

“I won’t stand in your way.” You didn’t answer.

“Oh fuck, don’t you die on me, Nicolai.” You cursed as you dragged the man with you, his blood made it impossible to keep a good grip on him.

“Fuck, fuck.” You cursed over and over again, his body almost limp. With the last strength you could muster, you aparated to a place you knew.

Street was dimly lit, the air was cold and the blood stuck to you like a second skin.

With a huff you sat Nicolai down next to the stairs leading up to the front stairs. You smashed your hand against the dark door and waited, hands hanging limb at your sides.

The door opened and before you stood a half smiling Sirius. His eyes widened as he took your appearance in. His hands flew to your shoulders, your waist, arms.

“Are you hurt?” He threw at you as he inspected you. “Not mine.” You managed as you pointed your finger at the unconscious form on the ground. “Good.”

“James, Remus!” Sirius yelled as he pushed himself past you. You leaned against the door frame, the pain in your shoulder slowly fading in again.

“Come in.” Lily spoke, her hand held out for you. You looked at her and reluctantly gave in. She guided you inside, sat you on Sirius’ sofa and brought you a cup of water.

“Sirius told us everything.” You nodded but kept your gaze on the ground. “We understand.” She said before she left you alone.

You downed the water and tried to get rid of the blood on your hands which had already stained your nails. Sirius made his way into the living room as he sat down on the chair which you had given him as a christmas present three years ago.

“He’ll make it.” He said as he pushed a cigarette between his lips. He held the pack out for you and without much thinking you took one.

He lit it for you and just like nothing of the past years had happened, you sat there.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You spoke. “It’s fine.” He paused to take a drag.

“I’m glad you came to me.” You looked at him, a sad smile on your lips.

“I never stopped loving you.”

It had left your lips without much thought.

“Neither have I.”

He said, his lips in a small smile.

“Thank you for keeping me safe.” He spoke again and you chuckled, trying to keep as much ash in the ashtray as possible.

“Always.”

His hand found yours as his thumb brushed the back of yours.

This was your choice and it felt like the right one.

#harrypotter #hp fanfic #marauders imagine #the marauders #marauders era #harry potter fanfic #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #sirius black angst #marauders #the marauders era #sirius black imagine #sirius black fanfic #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x ofc

[literary-illuminati]

Book Review 70 – American Psycho by Brett Easton Ellis

I’m honestly not sure I ever would have gotten around to reading this on my own, but ended up buying it through the ‘blind date with a book’ thing a bookstore in New York was doing when I was visiting (incredible gimmick, for the record). The fact that it then took me a solid three months to actually finish probably tells you something about how genuinely difficult a read I found it. Not in the sense of being bad, but just legitimately difficult to stomach at points. Overall I’d call it a real triumph of literature.

Not that anyone doesn’t already know, but; the book is spent inside the head of Patrick Bateman, high-flying wall street trader and Harvard blueblood at the close of the Reagan era. Also a serial killer. The story is told as a series of more or less disconnected vignettes, jumping from dinner conversations at one exclusive bar or club or another to the brutal torture and murder of a sex worker to several pages of incredibly vapid pontification on Nina Simone’s discography. The story vaguely tracks Bateman growing ever-more alienated and out of control as the year goes on, but there’s very much not any real single narrative or cathartic climax here. - most stuff just happens (stuff that’s either incredibly tedious or utterly nauseating by turns but still just, stuff).

So yeah this is an intensely literary work (obviously), a word I’m here using to mean one that is as much about the form and style of the writing as about the actual events portrayed. Bateman is a monster, but more than that he’s just an utterly boring and tedious husk of a man, traits which are exaggerated to the point of being fascinating– if you told this story in conventional third person narration without all the weird asides, it would be a) like half as long and b) totally worthless. The tonal whiplash of going from an incredibly visceral depiction of Bateman cutting out the eyes of a homeless man to six (utterly insipid) pages on the merits of The Doors is the selling point here (well actually I think Ellis goes back to that specific well probably one time too many, but in general I mean).

Bateman is a tedious, unstable monster, but as far as the book has an obvious thesis it’s that he differs from the rest of his social milieu only in degree. A symptom of a fundamentally rotten society, not a heroic devil among sheep. The book’s climax, such as it is, involved Bateman getting into a drug-fueled gunfight with the NYPD, shooting multiple people in the middle of the street, and then stumbling home and leaving a rambling confession to every crime on his lawyer’s answering machine – but despite very clearly wanting and trying to get caught and face some sort of consequence or justice, people just refuse to believe that someone like him is capable of anything like that. (It’s not, it must be said, an especially subtle book).

There is, as far as I can recall, not a single character who gets enough screentime to give an idea of their personality who I’d call likeable. Sympathetic, sure, but that’s mostly because it’s pretty much impossible not to sympathize with someone getting horrifically tortured and torn apart (at one point a starving rat is involved). The upper crust of New York yuppie-dom is portrayed as shallow and vapid, casually bigoted towards quite literally everyone who isn’t identical to them, status-obsessed to the point of only being able to understand the world as a collection of markers of class and coolness, and totally incapable of real human connection. Bateman is a monster not because of any freak abnormality, but just because he takes all of that a few steps further than his coworkers.

The book is totally serious and straight-faced in its presentation, and absolutely never acknowledges any of the running gags that are kept up through it. Which shows impressive restraint, and also means that none of them exactly have a payoff or a punchline – it’s just a feature of the world that all the expensive meals at trendy restaurants everyone competes for tables at sound disgusting when you think about them for a moment, or that the whole class of wall street trader guy are so entirely interchangeable that ostensible close friends and coworkers constantly mistake each other for other traders and no one particularly cares. Or – and I’m taking this on faith because fuck knows I’ve got no idea what any of the brands people are wearing are – that the ruinously expensive outfits everyone spends so very much time and money on for every engagement all clash comically if you actually looked up what the different pieces looked like. The book’s in no way really a comedy, so the jokes sit a bit oddly, but they’re still overall pretty funny, at least to me.

I like to think I have something of a strong stomach for unpleasant material in books, but this was the first work of fiction that I had genuine trouble reading for content reasons in I can’t even remember. I’m not sure it’s exactly right to call the violence pornographic in a general sense, but as far as American Psycho goes the register and tone Bateman uses to describe fucking a woman and torturing her to death are basically identical (and told in similarly explicit detail), and all of Bateman’s sexual fantasies are more or less explicitly just porn scenes he wants to recreate, so. Regardless, the result’s pretty alienating in both cases – his internal monologue never really feels anything but detached and almost bored as he relays what he does, sound exactly as vapid and alienated as when he is carefully listing the exact brands and designers every person he ever interacts with is wearing at all times, or arguing over dinner reservations for hours on end with his friends and lovers (though both those terms probably deserve heavy airquotes around them). He legitimately sounds considerably more engaged when talking about arguing over sartorial etiquette. It all adds up to a really strong alienating effect.

Anyways, speaking of sex and violence – perhaps because my main exposure to the story before this was tumblr making memes out of scenes from the movie, but I was pretty shocked by just how explicitly awful Patrick is ‘on screen’. The horrible murder, sure, but also just the casual and frequent use of racist and homophobic slurs, the pathological misogyny, the total breakdown he has at the idea of a gay man being attracted to him and thinking he might reciprocate – all of these are entirely in character for an asshole Wall Street ‘80s Guy even if he wasn’t a serial killer, but it’s still oddly shocking at first to see it so thoroughly represented on the page. It makes how comparatively soft-pedaled the bigotry and just, awfulness, of villains in a lot of more modern books stand out a lot more, I suppose? I have read a lot of books that are in some sense About queerness and/or racism in the last year, and no one in any of them holds a candle to good old Patrick Bateman.

Part of that is just the book being so intensely of its time, I suppose. The New York of this book is very much one of the late ‘80s, incredible wealth living side by side with social rot and decay, crippling poverty everywhere and a society that has to a great degree just stopped caring. Absolutely none of which Bateman or any of his peers care one bit about, of course – they’re too busy showing off the latest walkmans and record players, going to the newest clubs, and just generally enjoying all the fruits of Reagan’s America. Recent history has made the fact that Bateman’s personal idol is Donald Trump almost too on the nose to be interesting, but in 1991 I’m sure it was a bit more subtle in how telling it was.

Anyway, yeah, horrifying and exhausting read, triumph of literature, my god did Easton Ellis hate America (this is a compliment). Now time to go watch the movie!

#book review #literature #american psycho #brett easton ellis

[loonylooly]

at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people

Rhys:

UTM lap dance shenanigans

throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)

Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws

Insulting his wife's sister constantly

Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information

Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind

Locked Nesta in the house of wind

Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)

Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer

Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)

Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.

And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death

HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??

THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON

Cassian:

Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC

Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money

Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs

Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info

Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to

That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like

general aggressiveness all of ACOSF

aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment

Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby

Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)

Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that

Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF

Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE

Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....

Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)

Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.

No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him

FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES

Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her

Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him

Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable

Like we've got:

Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)

Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards

Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)

Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)

Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)

#acotar #sjm #sarah j maas #throne of glass #tog #anti rhysand #anti rowan #anti cassian #anti nessian #anti feysand #chaol westfall #sartaq #tarquin #tamlin #aedion ashryver #nesta deserves better

[gojo-enthusiast]

Chapter One: My Stalker

mlist <3

My Serial Killer — Suguru Geto Series

"Good morning! Welcome in!" You smiled, waving at the tall broad long dark haired man. You noticed him come into the bakery every morning, grabbing the same thing he did every morning, a crossaint and a black coffee. "Same as usual." You cheerly said, as he went to check out. The man hummed, fishing out the cash from his wallet, setting it on the counter. He was handsome, tall, buff, and his jaw was perfectly chiseled, it was almost as if he had been handcrafted by God himself.

"Be careful pretty, I heard there has been some disturbing activity over here." He said gruntly. You had never really heard him speak so much, hearing his voice sent shivers down your spine. "Of course, thank you Sir!" You smiled. "Suguru." He smirked, "Oh, I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you Mr. Suguru." You waved, after handing him his food and coffee.

You were not oblivious to the people who kept coming up missing, and found a mile down the road, sluaghtered to pieces. There was always a little note on the indivuals. "She is mine." You had noticed after the 5th man to be murdered horrifically that these men were all men who came into your bakery and tried hitting on you. Tonight was one of those nights, as you tried locking up the bakery to get going home, and feed your two cats, a slender man had been waiting for you. "Hey pretty lady, you closing?" He snickered. "Um- yes sir, we reopen at 7AM. Feel free to come back then." You smiled, locking the door, and walking away. You had pulled your pepper spray out, and sped walked to your apartment that was down the street.

“Let me walk you home pretty.” The slender man said in a purr. “I’m okay. I can surely walk fine on my own.” You nervously said, walking faster. “You scared?” He chuckled, grabbing you by your wrist, as you tried to open the door to your apartment building. “I’m really okay, please leave me alone.” You huffed, walking into the apartment building and going to the elevator.

The slender man walked into the elevator as it was closing, “Sir, please leave me be.” You started to shake, grabbing your pepper spray. “I’m just walking a lady home, that’s all.” He smirked, getting dangerously close to you. You aimed the pepper spray at him, and as you were about to spray, he snatched it from your hand. At that moment, the elevator door opened, and you ran out as fast as possible, you darted for your door, yelling. “PLEASE HELP ME!” You feared what the man would do to you if you didn’t get help. As you raced to your door, and were fidgeting for your keys, the tall broad man you had seen every single day for a whole year was standing at the door next to yours. Neighbors maybe? “Help me please.” You cried running behind Suguru. “Someone chasin you?” He muttered, seeing the man walk to you with a knife in hand. “Ah, I just wanted to walk the pretty lady to her door, but the little bitch wanted to pepper spray me. You don’t wanna have fun?” He snickered. Suguru opening his front door, walking in. At this point, you couldn’t see nor think. Your keys were jumbled and you felt your blood run cold as the man got closer. As you finally opened your door, you went to shut it, but you didn’t make it in time. The slender man had gotten himself inside. He held the knife to your throat.

“How about you shut that trap of yours, or maybe I should shut it for you?” He chuckled. Grabbing you by your neck. “P-please let me go.” You cried. “Oh I love how pretty girls cry, cry with my cock down your throat.” He laughed. Just a moment later his laughter changed to choking, and the only thing you saw was blood spurting from his throat. You looked past the slender man, and saw Suguru’s figure behind, holding a hunting knife. “Is that how you talk to a lady?” He muttered, grabbing the man by his nape and stabbing him over and over. You stood there in shock. You had blood that had gotten on your clothes and hands. You couldn’t scream, you couldn’t hear, you stayed silent and cried. You had dropped to your knees, watching Suguru brutally murder the man. Next thing you knew, you watched two men take the body from your home and disappear. While Suguru stood there and wiped the blood from his hands and face.

“You alright doll?” He asked unphased. You couldn’t speak, you watched as he walked to your cabinet and grabbing cup. How did he know which cabinet? Was it luck? He poured you water from your water dispenser on your fridge, handing it to you. “Here, drink.” He smiled.

“I-“ you stuttered out. “Hush, drink. Talk after.” He said. “There is two men outside your apartment complex, and stationed at every fire exit. Don’t try to run. I’m gon’ go take a shower.” He said, walking into your bathroom and taking a shower.

You sat there on the ground until he came back, when he came back, you had ran to the kitchen, grabbing knife. “WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?” You cried. “You.” He plainly said. “What!” You cried, confused. “I want you.” He said again. “What does that even mean?” You said confused. “I have watched you every single day for a year, you have captured my attention and time. I have watched you, studied you, and I have found myself entranced by your innocence. I’m going to take you away from this place, and you’re going to live to serve me, and I will live to serve you.” He said in an almost growl. “Serve you! Leave here? I’m staying right here!” You were so scared of what this man could do to you. “I’m not going to hurt you unless you give me a reason to. That little knife there is one of the reasons. So if I were you, I would put it down. I just saved you didn’t I?” He questioned. You felt your heard skip a beat. “Listen here, I could force that puny knife out of your hand, and forcefully take you with me, or you could be a good girl, and leave with me willingly, and you don’t have to get hurt.” He said with a serious tone. “I’m not leaving with you!” You shouted. “Listen here doll, I know where your mom, dad, little brother, and even your dear old grandma lives. Either come with me, or I’ll slit all of their throats in front of you.” He grunted. You gasped, letting go of the knife, and it falling on the ground. “That’s a good girl.” He smirked. “I’m gonna have fun with you.” He added, throwing you over his shoulder and walking to your bed, tossing you on it.

“Undress and sleep. We leave in the morning.” He smiled, kissing your forehead and walking out the room.

What the fuck…

#anime fanfic #fanfiction #suguru geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto smut #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru #suguru geto #jujutsu geto #geto x y/n

[lunar-years]

Imo, Beard was warming up to Jamie but then after Man City/ Beard After Hours he appointed himself unofficial watchdog for Jamie and decides that he needs to know where Tartt Sr is and make sure he is away from Jamie. Because everyone saw the locker room incident, Jamie looking like a terrified little kid, but Beard is only other person who knows how truly dangerous Tartt Sr can be and the reality of what that kid went through. He barely escaped with his life and hes not going to let Tartt and his two cronies anywhere near Jamie again if he can help it. Also if Beard ever found out about Amsterdam they'd find him sharpening axes and booking a train ticket up to Manchester

definitely! obviously Beard's got the most firsthand knowledge of anyone at Richmond (apart from Jamie himself) of what James is capable of based upon the up close personal experience of James nearly murdering him. And also I agree with the assessment other people in the fandom have made that beard shows signs of having his own history of abuse/child abuse. So I think he does understand Jamie on a certain layer no one else can, not even Jamie's closest friends, Roy, Keeley etc...by virtue of similar circumstances.

As an aside, I sort of hope for Jamie's sake he never found out what James and his cronies did to Beard. I think there's a side of Jamie that feels like he can "handle" the abuse his dad dishes out because it's confined to Jamie himself, but if his dad ever hurt one of Jamies friends or coworkers, just by their association to Jamie, it would really break him badly and be much harder for him to heal from. The fact that Beard got hurt specifically because he stepped in to HELP Jamie when he was being abused? Kind of a Worst Fear Confirmation to Jamie. Anyone he lets get close to him winds up worse off for it. The people he cares about and who care about him in turn get Punished for it, and it's Jamie to blame, which is proof he should have never let anyone care about it to begin with it. Just kind of a truly horrific worst case scenario for him, I think.

#coach beard #jamie tartt #ted lasso #tw abuse

[misswonderfrojustice]

So since my last post of making writing prompts on certain video games, characters, etc. and I haven't gotten any asks, I'll just go ahead and make one of my own.

This is an idea I had regarding the Miguel O'Hara character from Marvel's Across the Spiderverse [Spicyverse] movie franchise.

{I have never seen any Spider-Man movie at ALL in my life, so I know little to nothing about the whole premise of the world's plotline besides an Uncle Benjamin dying, being bitten by a radioactive spider [shouldn't you be horrifically deformed or dead after being exposed to ANY sort of chemical radioactive agents???] and so on so forth. I am an avid researcher on anything out of the ordinary or historical events/eras, so of course I read into the biographies of the series. So, now knowing about the protagonists and villans (and me being the sympathetically strong and sweet alien 👽 I am inside) I propose this scheme.]

Gabriella the Chocodoodle Lab Puppy

Apparently, sweet little Gabby is killed in the movie due to Miguel's interference of the Multi-Verse as a punishment for his transgressions, and he is now in charge of becoming the self-proclaimed only Guardian of the Spiderverse.

Well...

I'm giving him some grace here. Instead of him buckled down in over his work in his cave he calls an office, constantly hovering over each and every universe and it's inhabitants, he comes across a lone box sitting in one world [I guess I'll call it Earth 1231] and it was right across from his apartment complex where he is staying at. In this universe, the Miguel variant does not exist, and neither does the mother of Gabriella.

However, Gabriella is still alive but not visible to his observation and not noticed anywhere else but in this part of the city of Nueva York. Suddenly, the box starts eagerly shifting and moving, bumping into the doorway of said apartment complex like it wanted to enter the building. Curiosity gets the better of him, causing Miguel to open up a warp portal to Earth 1231 just to see what was inside the item.

He arrives at the building and walks closer to the box, which seems to be in a colorful pattern of cobalt blue and vintage infra red polka-dots, matching the typical Spider-Man costume theme. There are many holes perforated around the walls. Air holes, mind you. Miguel bends down slowly to the box's level, quickly jumping back when he hears what sounds like a young girl's voice echo inside his head.

"Papí?! It's me Papí?! Gabi!!"

Immediately, he ponders on where this instant pop-up of memories' past is located from, thinking his sanity is starting to decay quicker than he believes it to be, until the voice of Gabi repeats itself again, but gets even louder the closer he gets to the box. Throwing caution to the wind, he removes the lid, only to discover a gorgeous little chocolate Labradoodle puppy that wasn't even six weeks old staring back at him wagging her tail happily.

"Hòla Papí!!! It's me, Gabriella! Can you take me home please??? I'm hungry and it's really cold outside."

Gabriella's loving barks translate into his language inside his head. Now, Miggy Iggy has never been one for pets, especially after his baby girl's passing (it would serve as a painful reminder of his failure on not protecting his loved ones), but for some reason, he felt an intensive surge of parental desire to take Little Gabby home into his universe. Consequences be damned.

My version of the Multi-Verse would be him getting re-gifted a second chance at having his family again, without any future foreboding consequences or negative effects on the Multi-Verse's entirety. Gabriella was reincarnated as a puppy and aged at the same year she had died the first time of his Earth, where his variant was murdered by a mugging gone wrong, and Gabriella was alive. She only ages as accorded to Miguel's age, but never growing any larger than what she is now.

Starseed Baby rules, I'm sorry.

I'm thinking of making a short story about this later on, but hey, it's my idea.

Here's an image of what I believe Little Gabby should look like located below:

Let me know what y'all think!

#inspiration #original work #artists on tumblr #mother nature #mother nature at its finest #spiders #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #sweet harmony #miguel ohara #miguel fanfic #miguel o hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #spiderman atsv #atsv fanart

[bullet-prooflove]

To The Grave: Captain Jean Treville x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @@lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat

There is something cruel about digging your own grave, knowing that each shovelful of dirt takes you one step closer to oblivion. You almost refuse but you’ve seen what happens to a corpse when it’s left amongst the wilderness. You can’t stand the idea of the crows pecking out your eyes, of rats and foxes tearing at your belly.

It takes a while, the digging. Your muscles ache, your palms blistering as you follow the rhythm your body sets. Your mind is full of Jean, of his depreciating laugh, his warm smile, the roughness of his voice. You think of the last time the two of you were together. The scratch of his beard between your thighs as he took you to heaven, once, twice, three times before he made love to you on his bed in the garrison.

You’d slipped away long before dawn, leaving him sleeping heavily amongst the tussled sheets. You remembered pausing in the doorway, considering climbing back into bed alongside of him. You could give up the spy game, become a normal wife, one that cooked, maintained a home.

“You would never be happy with that life.” Jean had once told you. “You crave the adventure too much.”

He isn’t wrong, for years you’ve stayed one step ahead of France’s adversaries and there’s a vindication that comes with that, a satisfaction. When men look at you all they see is a woman, someone to conquer, to seduce. You toy with them, twist them, relieve them of the burdens they carry until all of those secrets spill right out of their heads, because men in positions of power, they like to boast especially to beautiful woman.

Your conquests are rarely about sex, they’re about finding that fundamental weakness and exploiting it. You know how to make a man beg for you, what he’ll offer up in exchange just for the promise of a kiss but that’s always as far as it goes, a kiss and nothing more.

Your heart, your body, your soul, all of it belong to Jean Treville, the man who will never know that you’re buried in an unmarked grave just a short distance outside of Paris.

That’s the other cruelty of what your captor is doing, he’s taking the one thing that Jean treasures most in this world and destroying it. He’ll wreak his revenge by sending your husband letters, detailing horrific, fictious things about what he’s doing to you. It will send Jean into madness, it will consume his waking thoughts, torture him in his dreams. He’ll tear apart this entire country just to find you.

And when he finally breaks, when he commits that deed he can’t come back from, when he begs on his hands and knees for your release that’s when the trick will be revealed.

There was never anything to return.

The woman he loved is gone, murdered because of something he did five years ago and that will be the thing that destroys him, that drives him to put his sword through his own heart.

“That’s deep enough.” Marsac says from behind you and you set the spade into the dirt alongside of you before turning to face him.

He’s had the pistol trained on you the entire time, his finger bearing down on the trigger. He’s under no illusion about your abilities, he’s studied you the same way he has Jean. He knows your strengths, your weaknesses, what it takes to draw you from your post in the Duke of Savoy’s convoy. When a musketeer turns up, requesting a private audience it gets your attention, especially when he’s bringing news of your husband.

The man that no one’s even aware you’re married to.

“Did you know?” Marsac asks you, his grip on the trigger tightening. “Did you know that the orders you were carrying that night condemned twenty musketeers?”

“Would it matter if I did?” You ask him and he shakes his head.

“No, you’re just as guilty as your husband.” He hisses as his footing shifts and he squares his shoulders.  

You know what a shooting stance looks like, the subtle changes in a man’s body before he pulls the trigger. You swallow hard against the well of emotion in your chest, tipping your chin up so that you can look at the sky. You want the vivid blue to be the last thing you see. It reminds you of Jean’s eyes, the brilliant hue as he looks at you during the height of climax.

When you hear the gunshot, you expect a rush of pain, a stab of agony, that’s the way it felt the first time you were shot. Instead there’s nothing.

You exhale, your gaze coming to rest on Marsac. Blood erupts from his mouth, a blush of crimson blossoms across the front of his shirt as the pistol slips from his fingers. He chokes out a word but the copper in his mouth stifles it as he falls to his knees in front of you.

Behind him stands Jean, the barrel of his pistol still smoking as his eyes come to rest on you.

“Terese?” He questions, holstering his weapon as he steps towards you.

“I’m alright.” You whisper but Jean he needs to see that for himself.

His calloused hands come to rest on your shoulders, gentle and steadying as he studies you intensely. There’s flecks of blood across your features, tiny droplets of Marsac’s life force staining your skin. His gloved thumb chases them away as his forehead comes to rest upon yours, his voice breaking.

“If he had killed you...”

He doesn’t say anything else, he doesn’t need to. The words hang in the air between the two of you as he cradles you close, his lips brushing over your hair.

… I would have followed you into the grave.

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#captain treville #treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #treville x reader #treville x you #jean treville #captain jean treville #jean treville x reader #jean treville x you #the musketeers #bbc musketeers

[tendergraphite]

The Secret History's Dream Sequences.

I saw @bandaiddd post questioning what the meanings behind the ending dream sequence could be. So I decided I'd make my own post discussing all of the dreams and their meanings because they all interconnect and inform one another.

The dreams are actually fairly straight forward, and bring a greater focus to themes and events already shown. Mainly, these dreams serve to show what is 1) Actually happening and 2) Shows Richard and Charles true feelings—I’d also like to bring attention to the fact dreams usually are what your subconscious picks up that your conscious hasn’t yet; It’s why they can sometimes seem premonition like in nature—when in reality, all they are is a peak at the end result of something entirely inevitable.

If It's not clear how I got to a certain conclusion about the characters, follow the links that should clarify some details.

) Richard and Charles train journey: The two were running away from Henry; Their guilt for the murder/s as well obviously, but this dream was a premonition for the disaster to come. Charles we must remember hadn’t wanted to commit the murder, thus his watery recounting of his dream sharing to Richard—Who we should note, noticed Charles upset to begin with despite being as dense as a rock—Is rather telling of his true feelings during this time. 

Henry at this point was about to pressure Charles even more so than before, and the two would keep getting distracted by what seems important but in reality is trivial (Think the sudden discourse with Camilla) Until their times up, and they have to wake up and face the music.

) Bunny in the bathtub: The goldfish represent Bunny; the fish isn’t rare or unique, and yet you still see them in luxurious places such as expensive restaurants or well-off businesses. The eyes being different sizes is showing how Bunny felt two extremes of emotions before/during his death—The large pupil representing his immense love and adoration for Henry; and the opposite side, his pinprick terror for his best-friend.

Richard felt terror at the potential of being caught in this dream because it represented how he was grasping his new life and didn’t want to let it go; He loved beauty, he loved Hampton—he’d do anything for it: But in the end, he’s drowning from the consequences. The fishbowl gets knocked over—Bunny falls off the cliff, and shatters. The corpse is dropped, and the splash is Richard's actions backfires immensely, and the enviable loss of the beauty he’d obtained finally commences.

) The Abandoned Baby: This dream was a manifestation of Richard's realization of what Bunny’s family was actually like underneath all the glamor and false love. The cemetery was a famous one, but a cemetery is a place of death no matter how you pretty it up. The baby was how Bunny in reality had been treated throughout his childhood, and Richard's comment is how he both felt about the way Buns family reacted to the funeral and how Bunny had been entirely abandoned at Hampden without any financial support from his family. 

''Those imbeciles, they went off and left it here all by itself''

The man behind Richard was Bunny, and the ‘’He knew, that I knew.’’ Was in reference to both Bunny now knowing that Richard knew about the farmer, and had been apart of the conspiracy to kill him—but also that Richard knew the truth behind Bunny’s behaviour; It could also be said the baby from before represented how Richard when it came down to it saw Bunny as someone innocent; you don't get much more innocent than a baby.

) Charles Dante: Brief dream but says a lot about Charles mental state at the time—He felt horrific guilt for Bunny’s and the Farmers death; It was the real reason for his mental collapse, it was never Camilla that had caused this, she was nothing but a red herring—But Richards distracted from this fact until it’s too late.

) @bandaiddd here is my answer to your question: Julian lays down the groundwork for the incoming dream well enough; Ghosts are the light of dying stars in our minds, and what we are about to witness is the ghost of Richard’s dying memories of Henry.

Henry is a man whose childhood is in ruins, a man so abused and whose mental collapse is so abhorrent that Henry is unrecognizable when compared to what little humanity he had when Bunny was still there to ground him; It’s why the dream takes place in a deserted city in complete ruin—The futuristic aspects are where Henry’s perfectionism leaked threw as he tried to rebuild himself amongst the wreckage.

It’s notable Henry showed up when the contraption shifted to the Pantheon, if you recall, Henry made a comment about Richard’s living quarters being similar—It’s why he says ‘’I thought I’d find you here.’’ Now this is where I tear up, as that moment in the frozen workshop is when Richard fell inlove with Henry, and became entirely devout to him.

Richard never accepted Henry’s death, deep down he thinks he’s still alive. Many of us, after reading the book, believed it to be so too. What hurt me most was that question coming up again: ‘’Are you happy here?'' It’s in reference to the same warm moment of acceptance at Francis’ country house. ‘’Not particularly.’’ Henry had made the comment in reference to Richard running away from his abusive home, and how he hid his past so well ‘’you're not very happy where you are either'' But it was all for nothing.

Richard searched for happiness, but ultimately it was all meaningless. He was right back where he started, in the end.

#the secret history #henry winter #camilla macaulay #charles macaulay #richard papen #I just noticed francis didn't get mentioned once #get nonced on francis your the planest character #bunny corcoran #dark academia

[aleksanderscult]

Went there and

I mean we know he wouldn’t stop when she says no tbh because he… doesn’t in the subsequent books. Plenty of times when he touches her or kisses her it’s straight up played for horror and he’s overtly like trying to scare her. Meanwhile the R&R “let me” tether scene, for example, despite being framed more romantically, she does straight up tell him to stop but he mostly ignores it.

Uh

“On this topic: the kiss when she was a captive was definitely in noncon territory because she can't say no! No matter if she inwardly wants to kiss him, it's still wrong like he was threatening her friends atp, and she was keeping herself still etc.”

But there are no other such instances. And no instance implies that he would not stop if she says no. HE MOST CERTAINLY WOULD!

If this was legit the case of he won't stop if she said no, he would have already raped her. He didn't have a lack of opportunities. He most certainly pressed his advantage in situations etc and while that must be because he could feel through the tether that she wanted him, it was still harassment and he shouldn't have but apart from that, no.

The Darkling had many opportunities to become a rapist, that's true anon. But he never was. Firstly, I never saw him, see him or ever will see him as one. He doesn't strike me as that kind of person. Besides if he was, Leigh would definitely say it and wouldn't support him in her interviews. Secondly, (and that's my own point of view) I see him as a man that stops when the woman he has in front of him doesn't want to continue. He wants someone that is willing to him, that wants him and not to violently force them to have sex with him.

Now about how that person calls their intimate moments "horror" is uhh.....not what I would describe them at all. You see it's all about the perspective. From the Darkling's perspective, he wants her but he hates it. Feelings were not part of his plans and, furthermore, they make him vulnerable. But he can't help but feel drawn to her and imagine a future where she's there too. For Alina, she wants him too but that frightens her. Because he's a murderer and a manipulative person. He brings out a dark, forbidden part of her that she fears because she wants to remain good and pure. But she also hates him because of what he has done to her and to the people she cares about. But she also wants him because he understands her on a level that no one else does. The loneliness, the isolation, the desire for power, the uniqueness of their powers and existence are all something that binds them and Alina sees a part of her in him for that reason. Just like he sees a part of him in her. Aleksander is lost in his rage, desperation and obsession but Alina is his light. The good part of him. Alina is lost in her anguish to remain good, pure and holy but Aleksander is her darkness. The dark part of her. Both of them have that piece of the puzzle that the other one lacks and refuses to have but still seeks and, secretly, likes. IT'S ONE HELL OF A SHIP.

So I wouldn't call their intimate moments "horrific" because that is both untrue and too simplistic. Their intimate moments are sometimes filled with lust, other times with longing but always with a surprise and bitterness because of that pull that they feel and neither of them wanted. Or maybe they subconsciously did want it? Aleksander always wanted to have a companion and Alina always wanted to belong to someone and be understood. "Careful what you wish for" maybe applies to them, huh?

(Okay gonna stop here. I don't know how the hell I just wrote a mini meta about their relationship.)

Lastly, about the tether kiss, it's true that the situation seems like a fine line between harassment and Alina's habit to deny to herself that she called him (but she was also unaware of it). I think Aleksander knew that Alina wasn't fully aware that she was calling him. But he still came that night because he missed her and also responded to her loneliness. Maybe if Alina wasn't so preoccupied with trying to remain pure, she would acknowledge that he wanted him there and then the scene wouldn't seem like harassment. Because she did want him but she's afraid of going mad and, furthermore, she keeps pushing her feelings for him away just like I said in the previous post.

#trust me to talk for hours about this ship while no one asked for it #anon asks #the darkling #pro darkling #darklina #pro darklina #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alarkling #pro alarkling #shadow and bone #siege and storm #grishaverse #grishaverse trilogy

[hidden-shame-707]

Genuine Fear

(HomelanderXGender no descript reader)

CW: Stalking, mentions of murder, fearplay

You never trusted supes.

A lot of people chalked it up to paranoia. 

They always seemed so incredibly uncanny to you.

Especially the members of The Seven. 

Like manicured, Vought branded monsters, wearing too perfect human skin.

Apex predators in the shape of models. 

After all the news broke that they were just people that were experimented on as kids, your mind never changed.

There was something fundamentally terrifying about something that looked like a person that could bench press twelve tons, or survive the pressure of the Mariana trench.

Nothing good could have power like that.

It's like the old saying goes:

'Absolute power corrupts absolutely.’

Sometimes you felt like maybe you were judging them unfairly.

After all, it's not like they chose to be experimented on, and sure, there were probably some of them that were genuinely good people, 

but lately on the news, more incidents of ‘hero involved casualties’ against civilians seemed to pile up due to their cruelty and general carelessness. 

You were so absorbed in these thoughts as you walked home late at night, that you almost didn't hear his boots hit the concrete behind you, carefully landing from the starless sky, causing you to quickly turn on your heels. 

And there he was. 

Red eyes shone in the dark like an omen of death.

“Little late to be out by yourself, isn't it,” he asked playfully, standing tall and bringing his gloved hands behind his back. 

Your body recognized the voice before you could even fully see his face.

This had to be some sort of fucked up nightmare.

Why the fuck was he here? 

Standing in the dim light of the alleyway like some horrific angel, his image haloed by dingy street lights, he smiled at you. 

What he had hoped seemed like an innocuous gesture set off alarm bells in your head and chills down your spine. 

Homelander

The terror you felt from watching him kill a random civilian on live television, or his very public ‘fall from grace’ during his birthday celebration was nothing like the utter horror you felt from being face to face with him. 

“I was just patrolling the area. There’s been a string of assaults over the last few nights. Probably not the best idea for you to be out on your own.”

He tried his best to sound friendly. 

This, of course, was a lie in two parts. 

Firstly, that he had been scouting and came upon you coincidentally. 

Secondly, there had been absolutely no violent crimes committed in this particular area.

He knew this without a doubt, because for the last three days he had been quietly stalking you, following you home and learning the route to your little run down apartment.

The first night that you had caught his eye, unbeknownst to you, he had dispatched a suspicious looking man with a knife that had been tailing you in the dark.

You were lucky that he had been watching. 

Since then, it had become sort of a habit to follow you.

Just to make sure you’d gotten home safely. 

In his own way, he was protecting you.

You should be grateful that he was such a merciful God. 

To be fair, if he said that outloud, your poor little heart would probably explode out of your chest.

He was used to the thrumming heartbeats of excited fans whenever he made his public appearances, but yours was like a panicked animal.

He hadn’t done anything wrong.

Why were you looking at him like that? He wasn't going to hurt you… 

“I-I’m just trying to get home,"

You explained anxiously, avoiding looking him in the unnaturally blue eyes.

You prayed to any god that could hear you that he would get bored with you and fly away.

Unfortunately, your prayers seemed to fall on deaf ears. 

There was only one God listening, and he had no plans on leaving you so easily. 

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Your heart rate is one-twenty-five.”

It was said simply as a matter-of-fact.

He meant nothing by it other than it being a casual observation, but the statement caused you to break out in a cold sweat. 

He could sense your fear. 

“Relax,”

Homelander tried to smile reassuringly, his perfect white teeth shining with practiced authenticity.

“You know, most people would be pretty excited to meet me one-on-one,"

he chuckled, doing his best to be as unthreatening as possible, 

trying to lighten the mood. 

If he was going to keep you from running, he was going to have to show you that he meant you no harm.

Not that you would be able to get away if you did run, but it did save him the trouble of playing a fruitless game of cat and mouse.

Well, fruitless for you. 

“Of-Of course I'm excited to meet you, sir,”

You fumbled.

‘Excited’ was not exactly the word you would have used to describe how you were currently feeling. 

‘Terrified’, maybe.

‘Bordering-on-the-edge-of-a-panic-attack’, would have been much more accurate. 

He cocked his head in slight annoyance. 

Your heart rate only increased in speed. 

Clearly being friendly wasn’t working. 

Perhaps if he poured on the charm, you would be more receptive? 

He took a tentative, sauntering step towards you, which you ineffectually countered by backing up against the grimy brick wall of the alley. 

 “It wouldn’t be very gentlemen-like of me to let you walk home on your own in the dark, now would it,”

he asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“N-No, I’ll be fine, you don't need to do that,"

you stammered, shrinking away from him.

You’d rather take the risk of running into an armed attacker than be anywhere near a supe.

Especially Homelander. 

He scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on, I don't bite. Look, I’ll even fly you home,”

He gave a boyish smile that, if you weren't fearing for your life right now, would have made your heart do flips. 

You had to remind yourself that this man was barely human. 

He was a carefully manufactured simulation of mortal life given god-like powers, made by a soulless trillion dollar company, devoid of morals or common decency. 

“I-I’m not a fan of heights–" 

You tried to explain gently without outright saying ‘no’, but before you had finished your sentence, he was at your side, scooping you easily up into his arms as if you weighed nothing at all.

“Well then you better not look down,"

he smirked, shooting you a well practiced wink before taking a leap and catapulting you both skyward. 

Icy night air whipped past your face as your heart dropped into your stomach. The sudden increase of gravity constricted the air out of your lungs so you couldn't even scream. 

And then… 

Nothing. 

There was nothing but the sound of muffled traffic from far below and the cracking stuccato of his cape, like a flag in the wind.

Nothing but the feel of his steely muscles holding you tightly against his chest. 

A drop from this height would most certainly kill you.

For the briefest of moments, your terror-addled brain almost would have preferred a fall to the ground below to having to be this close to him.

You shuddered in fear,

to which he responded by holding you just a smidge tighter.

You couldn't tell if he did this because he thought you were cold and this was an attempt at chivalry (which, dear god, you could only speculate as to his ulterior motives), or it was a wordless threat that he wouldn’t let you go. 

Neither of those options were particularly comforting. 

You tried to put those thoughts out of your head as he flew over the city skyline, doing your best to avoid looking down. 

Every so often you caught him watching you from the corner of his eye.

Eventually you found the courage to watch him back, figuring it gave you something better to focus on other than how high off the ground you were. 

As scared as you were, you had to admit that he was handsome. 

What would have taken you a twenty minute walk, flying took all of five. 

He gently touched down right outside of your apartment.

“T-Thank you for taking me home, sir."

“Trust me. It’s my pleasure, "

He said before giving a little wave and flying off into the night. 

It wasn't until you had gotten back into your apartment and locked the door that the realization hit you.

He had known where you lived.

That night you had nightmares of red glowing eyes peering through your window. 

#the boys amazon #the boys #homelander #fanfic #my writing

[heliads]

So, Before You Go Chapter One: First Call to Arms

Hellas is gone; so too is your life as a cartographer. You and the Darkling must quell Alina Starkov’s attempt at an uprising in order to protect the Grisha of Ravka. However, your gods are not as dead as they seem, and that which you have taken for granted will soon prove to be quite unpredictable indeed.

series masterlist / next

Once, a very long time ago, a girl named Psyche wielded beauty as her power. Envious, the gods foretold that she would be exiled with a monster as her husband. Psyche feared the monster, but soon she realized that he was not the demon others claimed. Still, as he only visited at night when the shadows hid him from her, she was tormented by the idea that he truly was horrific. One night, Psyche spied upon his face as he lay sleeping. She broke his trust, and they were separated until Psyche could prove that she did love him, and wanted no shelter but him until the end.

You wake slowly, painfully, aware of what could have been a dream slipping away from you. For several minutes, you cannot entirely tell if you are still asleep or awake. The air is warm, a breeze blows lazy circles of air across your face. Tell me, child, when was the last time you felt enough peace to trust it was not an illusion?

Someone shifts by your side, and one glimpse of your lover’s face is all you need to know that this is no dream. For all your nightmare’s best attempts, they cannot perfectly replicate his image. Perhaps it is because he is not of their kind, the man you love, but a monster of his own creation. Your people and your spells can only do so much. They cannot fully recreate something of the Small Science, something like him. You would know. Absence made you try.

Aleksander opens his eyes slowly, dark pupils scanning the room until they land on you. Every time he wakes, you can see him start to tense until he sees you again. That is what you get for running so many times, you suppose, it makes him too knowledgeable of how easy it is to lose you.

You were never able to stay away forever, though. The longest the two of you were apart was centuries, and although those cut like a poisoned blade, they ended. You made your way to the Little Palace under the guise of Y/N Stassov, First Army cartographer and good friend of Alina Starkov, and from there on out, you were under his watch again.

In all honesty, some part of you had known from the moment your paths crossed the second time that you would not be able to leave him again without revealing yourself. Sure, your face had changed since you were the Hecari he knew in the past, but he was Aleksander and you were Y/N and you would never allow anything to part you for long. He had made mistakes, and you had tricked yourself into thinking that anyone with as many centuries under your belts as either of you could be perfectly blameless, but you were still the same couple you had always been.

In the end, the result is plain. You showed your hand and the two of you reconciled. Sure, part of that may have had to do with Alina Starkov attempting to murder you whereas Aleksander saved your life, but sometimes love needs a slight bit of motivation to pick up the pace.

The two of you are on much more solid footing now, though. If anything, you will always be united in your wrath, your protective spirit. Aleksander watches out for his Grisha, his people, and you mourn your Hellenids, your kin who have already slipped beneath the sands of time. There is no one like the two of you, and there never will be. Alina can try, but she is young, foolish, full of hopes that have yet to die. Only you and Aleksander understand how time dulls any blade. Only you and Aleksander will ever be able to complete each other.

That does not stop this whole situation from feeling somewhat impossible. You spent centuries running from him, after all, and suddenly waking up in the morning to find him sleeping next to you feels unusual. Good, but unusual. It’s what you’ve secretly been missing since the very moment you left him, but still something you never thought you would experience again.

This change in your day-to-day life could explain why you woke up so disoriented, but in truth, you fear that it might be more than that. It has been getting more difficult to tell what is real and what is fiction. Reality blends into myth into memory. What happens here and now is only a slim shade of an idea when compared to the vastness of past experience, both yours and that of your people, the Hellenids.

You had assumed that the whispering of your ghosts would trickle off into ash and nothingness when the Shadow Fold engulfed you whole, but no. If anything, it just made it worse. You were hesitating on the banks of the River Styx, so close to crossing over into the Underworld, and then Aleksander pulled you back from death and kept you there. You cannot tread that closely to your end without bringing a little part of it back with you.

You are not the only changed one. Aleksander, too, is not the same man as he was when he set out on that sandskiff. As you look at him now, you watch the early light of dawn play on the dark slices in his face, the scars from his time in the Shadow Fold after Alina Starkov abandoned both of you to die.

It had taken every ounce of your combined abilities to make it out, but both of you are changed forever now. You cannot go a moment of your day without hearing the whispering of your ancestors increased tenfold. Aleksander used merzost and is haunted by shadowy demons of his own creation.

You both had dark, deep wounds when you emerged from the Unsea, but when yours disappeared after your natural healing had run its course, Aleksander’s injuries stayed the same. You can sense how they hurt him constantly, even as he tries to hide the full extent of it from you in an attempt to maintain strength. You know him well enough to both guess that he would try to put on a brave face, and can read his body language enough to recognize the stiff movements for what they hide.

His physical appearance matters not to you. He is still yours, the man you loved centuries ago and the one you do now. If the shadows that usually billow inside of him have now decided to carve out a more visible place for themselves, so be it. You only wish that he would not have to suffer so in the process.

That is why the two of you have been scouring the Ravkan countryside in search of Grisha. The practitioners of the Small Science have been left in upheaval after the ill-fated attempt to take back control from the Lantsov king. There are few things in life you despise more than a failing, useless, greedy monarch, and not a day goes by in which you regret that the otkazat’sya fool was not already dead.

He does, however, provide you with a good opportunity to build your ranks again as the elder Lantsov son cracks down on Grisha. You and Aleksander launch venture after venture to save Heartrenders and Healers, Summoners and Durasts and everyone you can find. They’re all terribly grateful to not be dead, which only gives you more allies in this fight.

Of course this will end in a fight, how could it not? You have seen plots like this play out before. Every story runs the same course, even if the players themselves do not realize it until the end. To build a war, you must have soldiers who will die for you. Aleksander will sacrifice himself to save you, but he is one man. You want hundreds.

Until then, you have moments like this, slow glimpses of what could be a far more peaceful future if this all plays out the way you wish it. For now, you are alone with the man you love, and for this brief instance, there is nothing in this world that can bring you down.

Aleksander leans up slowly, carefully, disguising his slow hiss of pain with a question directed to you. “Did you sleep well?”

The question isn’t just a pleasant nothingness. You’ve been having nightmares as of late, snippets of what could either be memories or prophecy. If this keeps up, your mind will start to shatter. You can only hope that you’ll be able to stop that before it happens. Madness and witches do not well mix.

You sigh. “As well as could be expected. I’m still on edge from yesterday.”

Yesterday had almost gone quite badly. A group of two dozen or so Grisha had been chained in a long line and forced into the Shadow Fold at gunpoint by cowardly First Army soldiers. By the time you and Aleksander had gotten wind of what had happened, the volcra had arrived at the scene as well. 

You had fought them off, but such close proximity to the beasts had made you uneasy. Everything reminds you of what it had been like in the Shadow Fold when Alina’s light had left the two of you, how the darkness had come swooping in and left you bloody.

Aleksander had called for you to leave them, but you had insisted on saving who you could. You were jittery for the rest of the day, he could tell, but you had sworn you were fine. Perhaps he can see through you a little too well just like you with him.

Aleksander arches a brow now, likely thinking along the same lines. “So will you listen to me next time, my love? Will you let them go when it hurts you, or at least try not to disguise it from me?”

“I’ll make a deal with you,” you say as innocently as you can, “I will stop disguising my torments from you when you stop trying to pretend that those scars don’t hurt as much as they do.”

Aleksander smiles even as a fresh bout of pain turns the expression into a wince. “You drive a difficult bargain.”

“I’m known for being difficult,” you grin.

“Perhaps,” he admits, “but I like that best about you.”

It is easy, on mornings like this, to pretend that all might be well, that the two of you are not fighting a war that could be lost over something as simple as one Sun Summoner somewhere you cannot find. You have no idea if Alina Starkov has even survived, but if she did, you hope that for all the peace you wish to find with Aleksander, she will have none of it with Mal.

You and Aleksander leave your temporary shelter some time later that morning, leaving no trace that you’d been there except shadows in the corners of the rooms that fester slightly more than before. You’d heard rumors that the First Army outpost here was planning on making an example of some more Grisha near the boundary of the Shadow Fold, so that is where the two of you will be stopping first.

As dusk settles upon the area, you and Aleksander arrive upon the scene, lingering back so as not to draw unwanted attention. The two of you are technically still believed to be dead, although you doubt any smattering of soldiers could actually do so much as harm a hair on your heads. You keep your hoods up anyway. It would not do to be revealed now, not before your plan can fully come to fruition.

You narrow your eyes, straining to pick out the details in the dark night. The soldiers have put Grisha in cages, their hands bound so as to not use their abilities. The sight makes your stomach turn. Those blessed with magic should not have to die just because others are jealous of their power.

As your gaze roves from face to face, you see only weariness, fear, desolation. Aleksander had built a marvel of a world at the Little Palace, a place where all the Grisha could practice their gifts in safety. Alina claims she wants to make a better world for the Grisha, but look what she’s done. She ruined the best thing Ravkan Grisha had at peace.

You’ve almost finished scouring the captive Grisha when you notice one particular face stand out amongst the rest. It’s one you recognize, actually. It’s one you’ve been hoping to find for a while, both you and Aleksander.

You suck in a breath. “That’s– That’s Genya.”

Aleksander’s eyes harden. “It is.”

One stray glance his way and you already can guess at what he’s thinking. “We need to get her. Even if it costs us the rest. Genya can find David for us.”

Aleksander inclines his head once. “And David can fix me.”

You make a tsking sound in the back of your throat. “Men fix toys, not gods.”

He looks amused at that. “We are not gods, Y/N.”

“No,” you decide, “but we are the closest anyone will ever get to seeing them.”

Aleksander laughs, evidently pleased. “I missed your ferocity, my little soldier.”

You look at him askance. “You made me a member of your personal guard within two days of meeting me again, even before you knew it was me. I don’t know why you’re acting like this is the first time you’ve seen my ferocity in a while.”

You can just see the shadow of his smile under his hood. “And yet I still didn’t see enough of it. You left, as you might recall.”

“Yes,” you admit in a whisper, “but I came back.”

He takes your hand, interlacing your fingers with his. “I know. You always do.”

It is a statement spoken in complete calm, no trace of malice or accusation. In your eyes, it is the final proof that he has forgiven you, just as you have in turn forgiven him. Like calls to like. The two of you were never meant to be separate for long. 

Aleksander turns his gaze towards the captive Grisha once more. The First Army soldiers are watching the Shadow Fold rumble ever closer, and you can feel the terror of the Grisha prick upon your skin like needles.

“Shall we deliver them from harm, then? Shall we take back what is ours?” He asks.

You nod once. This is it, then. From this point forward, there is no going back. Everything in the past was temporary, a step in the right direction without making enough of a scene to commit to your cause. When you save these Grisha, you’ll have enough to start making real changes, to find the people you truly need and hunt down those who have betrayed you. The war will be reborn.

.Aleksander raises his arms in time with yours. Shadow monsters of merzost stalk out of the Shadow Fold, sending the First Army fleeing. Those that run are only met with spells of your creation, which pierce through their hearts like daggers. In her cage, Genya Safin fearfully raises her head, expression changing from immediate terror to slow, dense horror. She knows what the dying soldiers do not:  this is only the beginning.

series tag list: @britishbassett, @rogueanschel, @hotleaf-juice, @mxltifxnd0m, @kaqua, @nemesis729, @imma-too-many-fandoms, @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @yourabbymoore, @nemtodd-barnes1923, @heyyitsreign, @ponyboys-sunsets, @slytherinsssss, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lakeli, @darlinggbrekker, @rosesberose, @w1shes43, @fairyeunji, @cryinghotmess

grishaverse tag list: @deadreaderssociety, @cameronsails, @mxltifxnd0m, @story-scribbler, @retvenkos, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie, @gods-fools-heroes, @bl606dy, @auggie2000

#the darkling #the darkling imagines #the darkling x reader #the darkling oneshot #the darkling series #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagines #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova series #general kirigan #general kirigan imagines #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan oneshot #general kirigan series #grishaverse #grishaverse imagines #grishaverse x reader #grishaverse oneshot #grishaverse series

[jekyll-hatepage]

(To add to my last post kinda?) I stand by the fact Lanyon's fate was one of the worst. Like Utterson, Lanyon expects his life, as well as his profession, to be straight-forward. He barely even gives thought to it, where Utterson actively cherished his uneventful life; there's some implicit understanding that he'll do his job, go to dinner parties now and then, and die. He has two close friends and he's fine with that. His relationship with Jekyll becomes less strong after the latter's "fanciful" scientific pursuits, but at the end of the day, they both care about each other. Unlike Utterson, Lanyon is fairly unbothered by Jekyll's strange new behavior, because he's already classified Jekyll as strange entirely. These little boxes he puts people in, the box he's placed his own life in, are ripped apart when he sees Jekyll transform. Science as he knew it, his best friend as he knew it-- all of it is thrown away. He has nothing to firmly believe in anymore. The stress of these revelations manifests itself in physical illness, and he's left on his deathbed knowing full well what is to come. After all, like Utterson says, doctors know when their time is near. Yet, he can't be comforted. He can't tell Utterson about the horrors he's seen out of a professional obligation. He's just left to rot, physically and mentally, with this horrific knowledge while he watches his best friend try to help the man who basically murdered him. Most depressing of all is that he still seeks comfort from Utterson, even though he can't address anything about Jekyll. He begs him to stay and talk about anything else. But Utterson is bent on solving this mystery and saving a friendship that can't be saved. He leaves Lanyon's immediately to write to Jekyll. We hear nothing else about their interactions, so Lanyon most likely died alone, literally consumed by man-made horrors beyond comprehension. He didn't get a warning, he had no idea he was wrong until he saw it with his own eyes. And then he died a painful and peaceless death.

#i was never invested in lanyons character since we saw so little of him #but now that ive been revealed The Horrors i feel terrible for him #dr jekyll and mr hyde #jekyll and hyde #the strange case of dr jekyll and mr hyde

[jessjad]

Unexpected

Chapter 8

Summary: After a Halloweenparty Y/N actually didn't want to got to, her life seems to be turned around. The reason is a very stubborn Supe that seems to have her in his visier. Is it just a coincidance or more?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 2590

Warnings: some language, character death (mentioned), graphic violence and a little hurt/comfort (as best as possible)

A/N: Aaand we're back. This is going to be a little emotional. Do we all remember Y/N's sister Jenny? Yeah, we're going there. Buckle up, guys... All mistakes are mine.

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

The tension was high. In the last couple of days the world seemed to be upside down. No matter what channel Y/N decided to watch, Homelander was all over the place. The horrific pictures of his son Ryan killing the poor boy on the other side of the street were still shown. Wheter it was anchormen or so called experts in superhero topics who discussed the situation over and over again, kept it alive. All of a sudden Soldier Boy was not the most important thing to talk about anymore.

After this, Annie has gotten way more followers. Anti-fans of supes, as they started to call themselves now, made their own videos of supes and what was so wrong about them. Some of them even catching a glimpse of misbehavement and recklesness. The danger that came with this kind of research willingly forgotten.

Homelanders followers on the other hand were still on the side of Vaught and all the other supes. Calling the straight up murders little accidents and just collatteral damage. Nothing to worry about. It had Y/N's stomache churning with disgust and disbelief. But not just her. Ben seemed to be more stressed too. He also stopped venturing out as much as before. He did not say it, but Y/N could see it in his face. The worry behind his stoic eyes and the small crease on his forehead that showed his tables turning in his mind.

Mallory had contacted both of them more than once after the live broadcast and was pressing changes in their plan. Not even now, after all these weeks, Y/N still didn't know any more details about THE plan and what they were trying to do and how they wanted to stop Homelander. It was kinda frustating to be left in the dark, to feel like a puppet on strings. On the other hand though, she was a little glad not to know everything.

"I was really worried there for a second, girl! Seeing you falling into the ice cold Hudson River..." said Caroline and brought Y/N's attention back to her. "I mean, you know that I never really cared about Vaught and the supes... But after everything I saw on the TV..."

Her gaze traveled to the screen on the wall on which the news showed the incident with Homelander again and discussed what would be happening next. Ben was sitting on the couch, deep in thought.

"Yeah... It's not the first time that happend. It's only the first time, that the whole world is seeing this."

"And..." Care was getting a little closer to Y/N and started to lower her voice. "... I did some research online about... Ben." She pointed with her head to the man on the couch.

"Don't... say it."

"But... he is one of them. The original one, I believe. And he is no different than Homelander." the woman said.

"I'm nothing like the flag licking dick sucker." Ben interrupted from the living room with a short glanze to the kitchen table. "And I can hear you."

Y/N smiled a little. "Anyway... this whole situation... is a mess and I had my problems with it too in the beginning. Care, trust me..."

And to make it clear to her friend she told her as much as she could about it all without giving to much away. Her best friend gasped a couple of times and couldn't hold back on the dirty jokes, when the story came to certain points. Y/N had to laugh a little and the realization hid her that it felt good to finally talk to someone about it. She was pretty isolated in her own apartment.

Of course she had Annie or Hughie to talk to, but that was not the same. Only the supe who shared the apartment with her was 24/7 around her, but he was not the biggest talker. Although it seemed as if he was trying to open up a little more to her.

"... and now we... we came to terms. And it's fine. For now."

"Okay." Caroline nodded her head. "I trust you if you say so."

Y/N nodded too and laid her hand on top of her friends.

"But, Care... it would've been better if you didn't have come here. There is a reason why I went into hiding."

"I know, I know. I get that." Caroline agreed. "But I needed to know that you were okay." That really touched her heart. "But it was not just me, Y/N. I talked to your mom and she is worried, too."

"Yeah, I know that." Y/N sighed. "But it would be to risky if I kept in touch with her. Not just for me, but for my family too."

Caroline nodded in agreement. She totally got that, now that she knew what had happenend. And she assured Y/N that this was the only time she would come looking for her. The silence that followed was comfrotable. But then...

"Y/N, your mom... told me about Jenny..."

"What are we supposed to do now?"

In a dark, small corner somewhere in the abandent building outside of New York that served as Victoria Neuman's operation center were two men standing and hiding from unwanted eyes, whispering to eachother.

"We have to keep going." Johnson answered. "We know now where he is hding out and what his plan is. We only have to give him as much time as we can."

"But... with Homelander involved now? It is not that easy anymore. We can not fool them forever."

"I know, Harlow!" Johnson said with a little bit mor force, but dialed back to whispering. "But we owe Soldier Boy, you know that. Better than me. That's the only reason I took this job."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Harlow sighed and crossed his arms infront of his chest. "But we have to be careful. And we can trust noone, except us."

Johnson nodded and a moment of silence followed, before Harlow spoke up again. "All of this is going to bite us in the ass. I can fucking feel it in my bones."

"Don't worry, my friend. It will all play out in the end." Johnson smiled a little and gave Harlow a assuring clap on the shoulder before both men parted ways to get back to their duties.

But noone of them noticed the third person near them in the shadows.

Shortly after Caroline left, Y/N started to cook. She needed to do something with her hands, keeping herself busy. That her mom had told Care about Jenny was unexpected, but in a way she understood why she did that. They were branded by what had happened a long time ago. But she didn't wanna talk about it and her best friend didn't force her do to so. She just wanted to let her know, that she knew and was there for her if needed.

Thirty minutes later, the pasta sauce was cooking and she started to boil water, Y/N heared noises from behind her. She glanzed at the couch and saw Ben laying sprawled out and sleeping. But his brows were creased and his fists were balled. His upper lip shivered almost aggressivly. Y/N went slowly over to the man, as he started growl and grumple, before he began to shout and squirm.

"Ben?" she tried carefully and touched his shoulder with a soft hand. "Ben!"

He catched her wrist almost painfully, as he suddenly sat up, shocked out of his nightmare. His green eyes darted wildly through the room to fight of the pictures in his head.

"Ouch! Ben!" she exclaimed. "You're hurting me!"

That brought his attention back to her and fighted off the pictures of his torturous years with the commies. He released her wrist right away and got up. Turning his back to her, he wiped his face with his hand and he cleared his throat.

Y/N could already see the bruise on her wrist form. This was not the first time she experienced Ben's nightmares. They didn't happened often, but she assumed that his PTSD was fighting his way back up to the surface, now that he did not take the hard drugs anymore.

"I didn't... want to..." was all he said, without looking at her.

"I know. Don't worry about it."

Y/N really didn't mind. He didn't do it on purpose and with all the other bruises on her body from their mattress sports it was just another mark he gave her. And she just knew how much he liked to mark her up. But she could still sense that he felt uncomfortable, probably because he thought he now looked vulnerable. So, she went back into the kitchen and finished the food.

The silence was deafening and a little uncomfortable, but Y/N tried not to show it. Ben kept an close eye on her, but she only smiled a little everytime she saw him looking at her her. And everytime he seemed to relax a little more. When they both sat down on the table to eat, Ben poured himself a full glass of whiskey, before he started to speak.

"Who's Jenny?"

Y/N was about to take her first bite but she paused with wide eyes.

"What?" the surprise fully displayed on her face.

"I asked you this once and you didn't wanna talk about it. But now..."

Ben didn't finish his sentence and he didn't need to. She understood what he was getting at. He had a moment of weakness and now he wants her to repay it. She sighed and put her fork aside.

"Jenny was... my sister."

"Was?" he crocked an eyebrow.

"There is a reason why I hate Vaught and the supes." Ben huffed, but Y/N slapped him lighty on the arm. "You knew that already."

"Yeah, yeah..."

She sighed. "Our dad worked in the army. He had a lot of friends that worked for Vaught and once a year... there was some kind of ball. You know? To celebrate a year of good work and to honor certain people. And when my dad decided to retire, the whole family was invited. Jenny was younger than me by two years and I have always been a little protective over her."

The memories from the past started to play infront of her third eye.

"That night, a lot of supes were there, too. And Jenny got introduced to a supe named Skyrider. He was in his mid twenties and he had wings. Strong, fast and he had a charming smile that lured Jenny in." Y/N laughed dryly.

"While she was talking to him, I was wandering around the room. Dad was talking to his general and nobody really noticed me. So, I went out in the hallway to search for the bathroom and there, in a corner, I heard to other supes talk about a woman and what they did to her."

Y/N started to slightly shiver. "I can't remember everything they said, but I remember that I was utterly shocked. They laughed and then I thought 'Oh, maybe they made a joke. A very bad one at that, but... just a joke'. However, days later I still had a bad feeling."

She had wanted to talk about it with her dad, but when she heared that Jenny was starting to date Skyrider, she didn't wanted to ruin it for her. Her sister seemed happy about it and that's all she ever wanted for her. To be happy.

"So, I kept my feeling for myself and for a couple of months everything seemed fine. Jenny was happy and we got to meet Skyrider officially. There was nothing to worry about."

Y/N smiled, but that expression faded quickly. She sucked in her lower lip with her teeth and Ben could see the tears starting to form in her eyes.

"It was on the weekend of the 4th of july. Skyrider wanted to spent the weekend with Jenny somewhere far away. A little trip just for the two of them... but that had me worried again. He didn't wanted to tell us where he would take her to, in sake for it being a surprise." Y/N sighed. "I did not like that."

Now, she grabed Ben's still full glass of whiskey and took a big sip out of it.

"A week later, they still weren't back from their trip and we all started to worry. My dad tried to contact Skyrider, but he was nowhere to be found. Vaught also wasn't willing to help and after another week, we got a phonecall from the police in Mexico City. They had found Jenny. Dead. Skyrider had brought her to an luxury villa... which had security cams installed."

Tears made their way down her cheeks.

"On the video... Skyrider had forced her to take drugs and while he... was recideing about how great the supes were, what great power they held over the world, so that they could do whatever they wanted and that she could be so happy to be with him... he started to force her into sex." Y/N had to get up, couldn't sit down anymore. "He kept talking and talking, but I can't remember any of the words anymore. The only... the only thing I remember were the screams... that escaped my little sister's mouth while he hammered into her so hard... that you could hear her hips break while blood was bursting from her sides."

She couldn't hold herself back anymore. While she hugged herself, Y/N sobbed and turned away from Ben. The supe didn't stay untouched from her telling, he had tuned into her thoughts and the pictures he saw made him understand her pain. He also slowly got up from his stool, the food already forgotten.

"He laughed. All the while... he assaulted and... mutilated her... he kept on laughing." she paused to try to take some deep breaths. "And... when her screams of pain were becoming to much for him... he... he cruched her skull while he came in her..."

Her legs gave in and she landed on her knees while he sobbed uncontrollably. The pain about it all was still so fresh. That's why she never wanted to talk about it. She'd buried it deep inside her and promised to never let her become weak again. Ben could understand that. He came around the table to her, sat down on the floor next to Y/N and scooped her up into his lap. Maybe, just maybe, he asked to much of her.

"I... I should have talked to someone, to my dad... I" she said and clung to Ben's chest like he was the only safety net she needed.

"Sh..." Ben stopped her from talking and rubbed her back lightly. "You could've done nothing against it."

"But... but I could have at least tried!" she looked at Ben. "I should've done something!"

"Y/N..." he took her cheek in his hand and dried it with his thumb. "It's not your fault." He catched her gaze so that she truly listened to him. "Trust me. No matter how... he still would've done it."

And eventhough she did not like it, Y/N could see the truth in his eyes and it made her question, if the supe infront of her that was holding her right now, had once done the same.

A/N: Yeah, the truth hurts. But in this universe it's a fact. And they bonded once more. Hopefully that will not backfire... 😉

@lyarr24 @k-slla @leigh70 @deadlydivergentgirl @deans-spinster-witch

#soldier boy #the boys amazon #unexpected #jensen ackles

[clonememesfrikyeah]

GUYS WHAT THE FUCK

I was reading the new Obi-Wan comic series that came out this year and- JeSUS CHRIST WHAT THE ACTUAL NAME OF FUCK DID I JUST LAY EYES UPON

⚠️TW: bones, descriptions and depictions of death, some fucked up type shit and all around horror and despair.⚠️

So the plot of this comic is obi-wan is on Tatooien reflecting about the past and this one was coming to terms with all the death caused by the war. The flash back is about when him and Anakin were sent to look for a natborn commander named Mekedrix who went missing after the republic lost the temple of Edit on Devaron and was suspected to have gone rogue and created, for lack of a better term, a terrorist group set on just killing literally everything. And oh boy did they. So when Obi-wan and Anakin get to where the base is suspected to be they confirm that yeah that’s their guy who created a rogue group dedicated to annihilating all life and their base is an ancient sith temple that’s legit oozing so much evil out of its walls that it latched onto and corrupted this traumatized non-force wielding officer. Ok so now that you get the plot, on the the real point.

THE REAL POINT IS THAT THIS MAN WENT SO CRAZY MAD OBSESSED WITH DEATH HE MADE A SWORD OUT OF BONES. AND NOT JUST ANY BONES. THE BONES OF A CLONE. BECAUSE HE THOUGHT THEY WERE THE PERFECT KILLING MACHINES AS THEY WERE MADE, BORN, LIVED AND DIED FOR THE SAKE OF DEATH. WHAT THE FUCK.

And it’s just- A LOT to process. But I feel like they just brushed over the fact that this guy was out here doing some really fucked up, sick phyco shit in favor of making Anakin and Obi-wand story sadder than it already was. Like yeah this guy was traumatized and corrupted by the dark side but I feel like he didn’t deserve the sympathy or the spotlight he got. At the end they really focused on how sad his corruption and death was, especially since he had been a good friend of Obi-wan and Anakin.

But I feel It should have focused on the horrors he committed against the platoons of clones he slaughtered for the sake of killing. Like, if you look at those slides up above the base is just littered with dead troopers, he’s legit wearing their armor in some sick gesture of admiration. But I will give the writers this; even though the main focus in the Obi-Wan comics is obviously obi-wan, they did a good job at subtly highlighting the fact that the clones were indeed slaves to the republic, forced to carry out all its dirty biddings. And the way it’s highlighted is horrific and terrifying. In life the clones were created to be weapons, used to kill, abuse by the world around them. And even in death they were defiled and disrespected like that. Mekedric made a weapon out of them, used it to kill innocents and their own brothers, used them literally down to the bone, used them as a stepping stool to obtain power and fear over others. And the only acknowledgment that kind of horror got was Anakin, filled with fury and disgust, what was his name. What had been the name of the trooper Mekederic has murdered, torn apart, reconstructed into something unrecognizable and was now holding their remains in his hand as a trophy. To which Mekedric reply’s that they were just as good as droids, they had no names, they were just things too him. That trooper had just been another nameless casualty cast aside without a second thought. And the thing is, Anakin and Obi-wan probably never said a damn word about any of it to Rex or Cody. Those troopers would have no closure, no one who mourned them, no clone would ever know the horrors that their brothers had been subjugated to. Because of this most clones would go on to never realize how trapped they were, how much they were being used, the extent of the abuse, and how nearly every natborn felt about them. They were just tools in the eyes of the republic; literal living weapons that could be mistreated however seen fit.

#anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #Star Wars: Obi-wan 4 #star wars comics #captain rex #commander cody #clones #the clones #Star Wars #the clone wars #tcw #my post #I’m a little salty #and shook #just #god damn #they didn’t have to do our boys like that #the 501st legion #the 212th #clone trooper #this is all canon btw

[artthemasquerade]

Lilith Miki

So I had come up with another AU for Miki and this time its set in the Devilman Lady manga verse! Btw I want to mention my Devilman Lady Manga verse has a ton of changes to the canon but keeps some of the plot points of the manga but I work on them more to give them the space they needed i.e Jun turning out to be a reborn Satan, in my AU Jun finds out sooner and she has to reckon with it before becoming resolved to protect humanity this time to give them the chance she had robbed them once. It also gives Akira more time to come to terms with it before he joins forces with Satan against God at the end.

Disclaimer: I know not everyone likes the manga version of Devilman Lady but I thought some of the ideas were good and should've been developed better, and I have no interest in debating whether the manga or the anime is better, or whether the manga's ending is bad or not. The Devilman Lady anime is its own thing and I do think was better done in how it did its own story line as it was more focused.  

When Miki had been killed by the mob she was brought to Heaven, however instead of a peaceful paradise she had expected, Miki discovered that it was really a prison of light where everyone there were brainwashed to worship and fulfill every whim their tyrannical God desired, and that God didn't really care of the horrific conflicted down on Earth and all the innocent humans being murdered by their own. Miki managing to break through the brainwashing, had called out God for doing nothing while his son, Satan, had gotten humanity to destroy themselves and letting the demons and devilmen armies fight to the death when he could've spared everyone the conflict if he had stepped in. God angry that not only had Miki broken through the brainwashing but also having the nerve to call him out, thrown her soul down to Hell, hoping that after being torn apart over and over again would make her obedient and beg for his mercy. 

However Miki wasn't so easily broken, not anymore, she wasn't the naive girl anymore, she knew better that if she wanted to survive in Hell she would have to be willing to fight and not hesitate again. Miki ended up merging with a snake demon, becoming a devilman, taking on the name Lilith and fought her way through Hell, wanting to find Ryo/Satan, at first wanting to make him pay for what he had done to her, her family and Akira. But as time went on Miki's heart had hardened and she had time to reflect on the circumstances of her death and Akira's role in humanity's destruction, filling anger and resentment towards the man she once loved and thus couldn't bring herself to go to find Akira, her anger and the self-disgust of what she had to become to survive made her avoid and Akira having feared of how he would react if he finally faced his old friend meant that their paths did not cross. And upsetting of all, she started to understand why Satan hated humanity given her own cruel death. The more demons and humans she had met in Hell had made Miki come to a realization that demons and humans weren't so different after all but she still held the belief that ultimately humanity did not deserve to be destroyed and while she had hated Ryo/Satan for what he had done, he would be better off as her ally against God, who she saw as a greater threat.          

When Miki had finally reached the last layer of Hell the Satan she had encountered wasn't what she had expected, she never thought he'd ever be so remorseful for his actions against humanity. She didn't know what to think feeling so mixed up about him, finding that she both hated and pitied him, she couldn't forgive him but she didn't want to hurt him anymore, his guilt had done a good enough job as is. Ryo/Satan told Miki that he would help her fight God but they couldn't go after him just yet, not until he had found a way to bring all of the demons, titans and gods out of Hell, but for her in the meantime to help ready the demons to come back and fight God's army for when the time was right. Miki tried to ignore her softening feelings for the man who had once ruined hers and her loved ones' lives, even after all he had done, despite her hatred of him, he was still the only one she had contact with that remembered her family and Akira. She tried to pretend that she didn't feel lonely when Satan had left Hell to be reborn on the new earth, even so she couldn't help but mostly stay in lowest level of Hell, waiting for his return and for Akira to finally come. In the meantime she gathered many demons as she could who were still willing to fight for Satan's cause and became a leader to them in her own right, making the demons come to terms that they were wrong in destroying humanity

When Akira had guided Jun down to the lowest level of Hell and discovered that Satan wasn't there anymore, they both soon encountered Miki. Miki felt a cocktail of emotions of meeting Akira again, anger for how long he had taken to find her and for basically replacing her with Jun, shame for his horror at what she had become(he wasn't horrified but saddened at how much her personality had changed and blamed himself further for failing to save her) and happiness at seeing him finally after all this time. Miki felt strange around Jun, like she was familiar to her somehow, resentment and joy mixed into one. Miki again tried to swallow her feelings but they exploded and she tearfully yelled at Akira for not coming sooner before breaking down and sobbing into Akira's chest as he embraced her. Akira was a little skeptical when Miki explained that Satan had shown regret for his actions and wanted to stop God, but it had made Jun wonder if that was true or not, emboldening her further to seek out Satan.

After Jun had left Hell to look for Satan, Akira had spent much time between Hell and the New Earth, wanting to catch up with his old love and protect his new love. Once past her initial resentment of Jun, Miki had come to care for Jun, admiring her willingness to protect humanity and not make the same mistakes Akira had done, but couldn't shake the feeling that she had known this woman, and Jun had felt the same, feeling both affection and guilt towards Miki but not knowing why at first. 

When Miki came to learn alongside with Akira that Jun was actually a reborn Satan, she felt anger and jealously towards her, feeling bitter that she didn't get to become innocent again, and told Jun as much, who was very apologetic and didn't fight back or defend herself against Miki's wrathful shouts, only stating that she never wanted to hurt Miki again and that she really did want to save humanity this time. Miki through spending time with Akira, had softened her heart and her admittance of wishing she had become innocent again, and Jun's declaration of wanting to save humanity from God's tyranny, calmed her anger and she finally broke down and admitted to Jun/Satan that she had missed her. The two women hugged each other before going off on their separate paths, Jun looking for a way to bring the demons back and also allow humanity to exist as themselves so they can free themselves from God's control and Miki gathering her demons ready and helping Akira gain the respect of his Devilman army back. 

eventually at the end, Miki stands with Akira and Jun/Satan as they ready themselves to fight God and free everyone from his cruel rule...

Phew that was a lot more than I expected to type XDD but I wanted to share this AU and I hope you like it. :3

Btw if you like what you see and want a commission drop me a direct message on tumblr, instagram, a note on deviantart or artistree https://artistree.io/missn11

#devilman #devilman fanart #devilman art #digital art #digital fanart #my art #fanart #amon the apocalypse of devilman #miki makimura #devilman miki #devilman lady #devilman lady art #devilman lady fanart #miki makimura devilman #Lilith Miki AU #procreate #procreate art #procreate fanart #speed paint #my speedpaint #my video #video #Youtube