she carnage

Maid To Serve

TITLE: Maid to Serve

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Thirty Three

AUTHOR: wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine that you have been sold to a slave trader to pay a debt. One day you are bought and given to Loki as a gift. He ignores you at first, but he slowly begins to notice your attention to small details in your daily tasks and your funny little quirks. He tries everything he can to seduce you, and the more you resist the more intrigued he is.

RATING: Teen and Up

In all the years the Allfather had lived in the palace, all four thousand of them, he had never entered the chamber servants’ hallway, until that day, accompanied by his wife and several Einherjar. Those gathered parted silently, watching as he passed. When Frigga saw Thor standing at the doorway of one room, she walked forward, when she saw Loki leaning inside the doorframe, shaking and sobbing, she looked in at the carnage before she stilled and stared in shock.

“What happened?” Odin demanded.

“No one knows Allfather, from what we can gather, there was a five-minute window for this.” The Einherjar stated, indicating to around the room.

Keep reading

Of Mafias and Men (End)

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13

Warning: Violence. Mentions of guns and blood.

Note: Aaaaand I really suck at keeping up with the ‘deadlines’. This was supposed to be posted ages ago, but life happened, a.k.a. school. Plus, my dread with writing endings. But hey! at least I got to write it. Hahaha!

Special thanks to Sikah, as always, for getting this far with me. Lol. And to Donia!!! ;) Your comments were really helpful. 

It would be awesome if anyone reading this would also extend this thanks to these two lovely people~ haha

Thank you to you, too. For getting this far~

Shoutout to @kikichanheartsmimi. I have not forgotten this. Never. :D

Pairing: Jaehyun/ Y/N / Taeyong

Originally posted by nctuhohahyes



But all too familiar.

It evoked feelings of carnage she didn’t know existed within the depths of her being.

She only held it once. In training where she was supposed to defend herself and protect others. Taeyong had been very specific and firm in his words.

“Only use it when absolutely necessary.”

Would this count as one? she wondered.

To defend herself. And to protect him.

Y/N smirked at the helpless figure lying face down on the immaculate floor of Dong Sicheng’s mansion.

It was so clear it even reflected her menacing figure and the bloodlust smirk on her red-painted lips. Y/N almost didn’t recognize herself in the bright red gown that accentuated the shade of her skin. The diamond jewelries, that must have been Taeyong’s demand, sparkled in the light.

Right. She remembered why she was there. A gathering of Sicheng’s business partners over the years.

Yet, there was evil in her eyes.

His precious blood pooled, gushing out of his open wound, making a small river, coming and resting beneath her feet, staining her glittery heeled party shoes.

The black suit which he wore slowly became soiled. His white hair was disheveled from their struggle earlier followed by his immediate fall.

Taeyong lifted up his face to meet hers. His big dark eyes no longer sparkled. They were imploring her for mercy.

“Please…” Taeyong sounded weak and breathless. The pain from his gunshot must have been unbearable now, Y/N deduced. Yet, instead of feeling sympathy, it gave her a sense of satisfaction that he was suffering.

As a payment for everything Taeyong has done to her and to him.

Looking down at him, Y/N raised her hands and locked them in position. Nestled in her perfectly manicured hands was a silver handgun, a Magnum, the most powerful in the world.

Her wicked reflection stared back at her on the cold metal of the gun.

There was no longer an ounce of pity within her.

With a last smirk, Y/N pulled the trigger.

Y/N felt surreal as she couldn’t shake off the last vestiges of her dream. No. Nightmare.

Everything felt real. From the details of her red dress to her painted nails, even Taeyong’s suit. It felt foreboding, even as Y/N tried to ignore it.

They already had arrived at the venue which was lavishly decorated. Dong Sicheng, more commonly known as Winwin to his acquaintances and business partners, did not hold back with the decorations.

Everything had been bright. The gigantic chandelier that hung above them illuminated everything. Elaborate floral arrangements were the centerpieces of maybe a hundred cloth-covered tables, each with expensive china for dinnerware.

The Dark Gaze Association only sent a small party of representatives: Taeyong and his closest friends, Ten, Yuta, and Donghyuck, and of course, her.

At least, she was thankful the firm pressure of Taeyong’s grip on her wrist, though edging on painful, was keeping her grounded to reality.

“Tae,” Y/N whispered, wincing at how tight his grip was that it would surely leave a mark.

Only a cold hard gaze met her in reply.

It pained her to see the traces of the old Taeyong were gone. She shook her head. No. Even if what he was showing her was the detached side he was known for, Y/N knew Lee Taeyong was still in there somewhere.

“You’re not leaving my side.” His voice came out hard like stone. Unyielding.

“Why not?” she couldn’t help but ask. Her stubbornness, which caused trouble for her, was peeking out.

“Y/N,” he warned her. “You’re not going away…You’re not leaving me.”

The last part came out as a whisper.

What she didn’t understand was what Taeyong was so afraid of? It was not like she could run away. There was nowhere for her to go because his mafia family will always find her and her family.

Not only that, she did not want to leave his side.

“I’m not going to, Tae,” Y/N whispered back. She hoped her words would reassure him. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving you.”

Taeyong took one last look at her and for a moment, the unfeeling shell he had put on himself momentarily melted until he must have seen how shifty her eyes were, trying to observe the surroundings that he decided that she was lying and was back to being cold again.

Y/N winced again at Taeyong’s harsh grip on her. She met his eyes and he with hers. There was a moment of silence where they tried to size each other up before she first gave up.

“You’re never gonna let me go, are you?” she whispered again. Her mind wandered back to her dream. Taeyong looked helpless then, contrary to how dangerous he looked now.

“Never,” was his firm answer.

Just then, there was a mic feedback, indicating an announcement of new arrivals.

“Welcome, White Phantoms.”

Y/N felt Taeyong freeze. His grip on her wrist almost unbearable. It will surely leave a bruise now.


Observing his face, she saw how his demeanor changed. His eyes became more intense and alert, ready for any sort of confrontation. His jaw and lips were set in a tight line. And although he kept his expression neutral, Y/N could tell they were his enemies.

Oddly, she had never heard they existed until now.

She also didn’t understand why he was so charged towards said mafia until she spun around to see who they were.

The name seemed fitting.

Where Taeyong and his posse wore all black, White Phantoms were the total opposites.

They all wore white ensembles with accents of gold-plated metal and brown leather. Yet, Y/N had long learned to not be fooled because even the lightness of their clothes did little to hide their ruthless aura.

And in the middle of it all, Y/N saw a familiar face.

Actually, all of them had been familiar to her. She had met them at the front of the coffee shop and even went to an amusement park.

‘Doyoung, Mark, and Taeil.’

But her focus wasn’t on them, but rather on the single person leading the group.

It finally dawned on her why he was lethal in fights and why he was capable with a gun.

Everything was falling into pieces.

Y/N was staring into the familiar face of Jung Jaehyun.

Taeyong squeezed her hand and tried to shield her from the sight. But she stepped to side. She wanted to see. Jaehyun, especially.

How could he?

A guilty expression momentarily flitted across his face before a steely one replaced it as it dawned on him where her loyalties lie.

The air was charged, almost electric. She could tell both mafia groups could not be in the same room without trouble breaking. Glares were exchanged as well as high-caliber guns were being displayed.

Tension was so palpable one could cut it with a knife.

Y/N broke free out of Taeyong’s hold to run over to Jaehyun and to talk to him, but she didn’t even get a chance.

The first shot rang loud and clear in the area and soon, chaos broke. She was lost in the bodies rushing for cover.

Even with her well-trained eyes, Y/N failed to see who fired first.

More gunshots erupted. To her, it seemed to come from everywhere all at once. Women, who came to celebrate, screamed as they sought for safety. Glasses broke as they were shoved off overturned tables.

What was supposed to be a night of celebration quickly descended to hell as both groups exchanged shots.

Even the host, Winwin, could do nothing to stop the war-like chaos that ensued.

The cacophony almost made her go deaf. She didn’t even know where to run or seek shelter. That was until a hand reached out to grab hers.

Looking up, she was staring into the wide and alert eyes of Jaehyun.

“Y/N,” he said, a little breathless from the commotion. In his hand was a silver Magnum. The one she held in her dream.

“Let go of her.”

The two of them froze at the sound of Taeyong’s harsh tone. They both turned towards the source of his voice and saw the young heir of the Dark Gaze Association standing at the bottom of the grand staircase.

There was still pandemonium all around them, but for a moment, it seemed that the three of them were locked in their own world where time slowed down.

Taeyong had his golden Magnum trained on Jaehyun’s chest. Moving a single muscle, Y/N assumed, would result to instant death, perhaps, not only Jaehyun’s but also hers.

“Y/N, come—“

Taeyong didn’t even get to finish his command as a shot rang from somewhere and hit him on the back.

To Y/N, everything seemed to be in slow motion. There was a pounding in her heart as she witnessed Taeyong’s body fall on the pristine floor. Her eyes could only widen in shock as she searched everywhere for the assailant. Only, she found none.

And even when she wanted to run to him, her body remained rooted to the spot. She could only watch in horror as his blood soon pooled underneath him.

It was just like in her dream.

“Tae!” She was about to run to him when Jaehyun held her.

“Tae!” The rest of his group rushed to his aid.

With one fluid motion, Jaehyun cocked his gun and trained it on Taeyong’s almost still body. Y/N watched as his eyes were drained with humanity.

He was intent on firing.

Tears pooled in her eyes as she threw her arms around Jaehyun to stop him.


Y/N stayed like that for a moment before she heard someone grunt behind her. To her horror, as she spun towards the sound, Taeyong tried to stand up, held by the others.

“What’s keeping you from shooting me?” Taeyong coughed before spitting out some of the blood on to the floor.

“We should get you patched up,” Ten said, face stoic but eyes worried.

Donghyuck was keeping silent as he held Taeyong under his arms, and it was only Yuta who was glaring at Y/N, as if already tagging her as an enemy.

“Her,” Jaehyun replied with a leveled voice. Then with a smirk, he added, “And I’m going to enjoy taking everything away from you.”

He grasped Y/N by her right arm and twisted it so it was now at the back. She recoiled at the pain. Never did she imagine Jaehyun to turn out rough.

There were a couple more excruciating coughs from Taeyong. His breath became more ragged by the second. However, he managed to say, “Casper…no.”

It made Y/N’s chest ache to see Taeyong in so much pain, but as a last attempt to save him from getting shot, she tried to face Jaehyun with her arm in danger of dislocating.

“Jae, I’ll go with you,” Y/N managed to say in a calm manner even when her insides were rattling in panic. 

She tried to look into his eyes, and it registered hurt for a moment before it was replaced with a cruel one. A bitter smirk crossed his lips, and he no longer looked like the Jaehyun she knew.

Jaehyun leaned closer to her.

The act itself made Taeyong’s blood boil. He would have shot Jaehyun if he weren’t in such a weak state.

“How does it feel that she chose me, hyung?” Jaehyun said the honorific in a mocking way.

Taeyong’s eye flew to her, begging for her to stay. “Y/N, please don’t.”

Turning to face Taeyong again, she smiled bravely. “I’ll make this right again, Tae. I promise— “

“Let’s go, Y/N.” Jaehyun tugged on her arm and pulled her away from him, from his group, from everything.

There was nothing else Y/N could do as she was dragged away from the scene.

“Promise me you won’t hurt him,” Y/N managed to tell Jaehyun even with her difficult position.

However, a wicked smile crossed his lips.

“I no longer make promises.”

And just like that, she was taken away by Jaehyun.

Note: And it’s finally done! Can you also tell that I’ve been delaying this ending because I hate writing endings so much? But now this is done, I can move on to other fics.

As always, I would like to say thank you to everyone who has read and loved this series. For sending me messages as well as participating in the polls.

And since it’s only like an hour before Christmas, I hope you all will have a Merry one! :D

P.S. This may or may not get a sequel in the future. ;)


Hello everyone! My blog reached 1,000 followers over the weekend, and I wanted to thank everyone for making this blog what it is and continuing to enable me in my Venom madness. To celebrate, I wanted to share with you all the bulk of my very disorganized Venom collection. All of this is the equivalent of many years of collecting and contains items from lava lamps, paddles, cups, backpacks, Funko Pops, hats, masks, giant erasers, you name it. The top photo is what I have on display and what I like to call the “Symbiote Shelves.” Thank you very much everyone for all the support. I’ll save posters, wall decor, books, trading cards, and comics for a later date! See you then, Venomites!

ello its wyz talking about how SHADOW LABRYS is a freaking powerhouse / op type of character. most specifically a stronghold fighting character of both p4a & p4au. i mean sure she is squishy in opportunities to counter her. ( if u know how to find an obvious opening to knock attack her back. ) but i shit you not that once you get her on her worst side, SHE IS A HELLISH BRUTAL FORCE YOU CANNOT mess with.

unlike labrys who displays a mix of keeping a certain distance aka range attacks with one on one combat, shabrys isn’t afraid to take risks. in fact, she’ll come charging in with heavy blows & strikes that are too goddamn unavoidable & powerful to make you dodge them. her WRATH is apart of what makes her skill set DEADLY & how it over all impacts her style in fighting her opponent. ( this also shows in her persona Asterius who legit DESTROYS ANYTHING THAT STANDS IN ITS WAY WITH NO REMORSE & CHILL )

SO YEAH.SHABBY WILL ANNIHILATE YOU IN ANY GIVEN CHANCE SHE GETS. SHE WILL BE AFTER YO ASS & REKT YOU BADLY GOOD TILL YOU CAN’T MOVE OR HAVE A CHANCE TO FIGHT HER BACK. aka this is the very reason why sho lost to shadow labrys, cause he underestimated her rage that can be used as a dangerous weapon.

Minor Greek Goddesses: E R I S

Eris (Ἔρις) is the Goddess of Discord, Strife and Chaos. She caused the Trojan War with the infamous golden Apple of Discord. During the war, Eris fought by the side of Ares. She is more generally known for the less deadly forms of conflict; political strife, personal contention, rivalry and wrangling but the potential for evoking her deadly nature is ever present. Eris would appear frail and small as she entered the fighting but as she strode through the carnage she would get larger and larger until her head would brush the heavens.The symbols associated with Eris are: a poniard, a hissing adder which she holds in one hand, and a burning torch that she holds in her other hand.

When: A year and a half ago
Where: The Choke
Status: Closed to @theosgreco & @octavianrhambos

If only her mother could see her now, with the alcohol tolerance of a bull, but the will and stubbornness to drink until she was cross-eyed drunk anyway. Kassiopea Nolle was swigging from the second bottle they’d opened that night, more Tavvy and her than Theo at any rate. He never partook, not really, but she was giggling by the fire and sitting in his lap, holding the bottle close. “C’mon, Theo, you’re not havin’ s’much fun as us. Y’need more in you.”

A small fraction of her mind recognized that she was slurring, and she swallowed hard, trying to regain some kind of lucidity. Her smile was winsome and bright like the clearing of the skies after a hurricane, peaceful and free and clean. Like her hands weren’t still shaking slightly from the pure carnage she’d wreaked on the battlefield. She drank to forget. Drank to pretend like she was easy and carefree, like she didn’t care which men had families or lovers or parents. Because she didn’t. “We should play a game!” I really don’t.


1. mysterious & powerful genetically-altered creepy fuck main character with a signature weapon that rarely speaks (not counting sign language in nics case)

2. slutty long-haired comedic relief partner with eyepatch, sad backstory, and questionable side job

3. shy but kind rescued ex-prostitute w a heart of gold that the creepy one is kinda into

they all even have the same haircuts

@oldmxnlogan​ - Closed RP

Harley staggered slightly as she managed to walk out of the bar, leaving the massacre of dead bodies behind. She was covered with blood, clothes torn, a bullet wound in her right shoulder. With the past few times when this sort of thing had happened, she was either screamed at or had the cops called on her. And she didn’t need either of those things right now. But by the look of the poor bartender he knew better than to mess with her after the carnage she had just created. She moved to lean against the wall outside and let out a deep breath as she rolled her injured shoulder with a hiss. Unbelievably she hadn’t noticed she had been shot, what with her being shot at, stabbed, cut - you name it - being a regular occurrence with her sort of lifestyle. Harley glanced upward and saw a man standing. He hadn’t approached her yet so she took it that he wasn’t a cop. “Hey!” She called out to the man, holding up a bloodied hand that held a cigarette. “Ya got a light?”


The dead kept coming to him with the woman’s mark.

Not humans, usually. Not things with full souls. Quasi-creatures who lived half-lives and found themselves bewildered in the land of the dead. And her hand was upon each.

He had to see the warrior who could cause such carnage.

She was small, this Grace Abigail. Shockingly so. Beautiful and delicate and utterly lethal. She killed with cunning and blades and so many, many bullets. She protected by day and hunted by night.

He supposed that, too, was a kind of protection.

But the most remarkable thing about her was not her size or her skill or her efficiency.

She was alone. One woman standing in the face of a howling hurricane of evil.

And somehow, little by little, fighting it back.

It had been more than two and a half centuries since Hades had clad himself in mortal form. Then, he had not been able to resist the magnetic pull of a brilliant, wonderful, terrible band of men who all chanced to live and fight and think and die together. But just as quickly, he saw their hypocritical dream begin to crumble, and he turned his face from humans again.

His people skills were a bit rusty, you might say.

So he donned the same form again, gangly and long-nosed, and concocted a mad story that only a woman who lived in a mad world would believe. That he had slept the centuries away, just so he could fight at her side.

In its way, it was true.

He left hell to govern itself and devoted himself to life. They battled monsters great and small. She taught him the ways of her world and the ways of goodness. She was still the woman in the eye of the hurricane, still pushing forward in a war she could never fully win. But with two of them, the storm retreated just a bit more. A bit more.

And the god made flesh grew to love her. Not for her ferocity, though that was true enough and that was beautiful. But he loved her for her kindness. Her fear. Her humanity.

Every day he knew he should tell her who and what he was. That she would not appreciate his subterfuge, now years in the making. But then she wrapped her hand around his and all his resolve fled.

In the end, he stayed by her side through fifty-three human years. It was nowhere near enough.

They never sired children – life cannot come of death – but oh, they enjoyed the attempt. They grew old together, his hands like paper, her hair like snow.

He held her in his arms as the fluid filled her lungs and she began to drown in her own skin. He kissed her lips and granted her a drifting, peaceful death filled with dreams of a life well-lived.

The doctors would find two bodies entwined in a final embrace. He must’ve died of a broken heart, they clucked. It happens, when folk were in love such as these were. Likely for the best one never had to live without the other.

None of them saw the king, hale and young once more, guiding his queen to her rightful throne.  

Ava in the next update looking upon the carnage she caused:

👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my self 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠOOOOOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit