#And like his complete understanding and care for Fracture

[muchosbesitos]

I need a fic about Miguel lusting after nurse fem!reader! I imagine he got hurt around her apartment and being that he is Spider-Man and she is a nurse she decides to take him into her apartment and fix him up. She is so caring and kind to he and this starts to become a thing where spider-man gets her to heal him.

So Miguel never reveals his identity to her but he’s like falling hard for her. Like thinking about her all the time (especially when he is in the shower lol). Let’s say one day he’s feeling like a little under the weather so he decides to go to where she works to get a check up and medicine (and hopefully to see her outside of his costume for once) so when he finally sees her he’s trying to charm her flirt a bit like he does when he’s behind the mask, but she is not having it. She acts cold and disinterested because one, guys flirt with nurses all the time and two, she has feelings for spider-man. Then you can do what you want with the ending but I would like if they get together in the end maybe you can squeeze some NSFW in there. Honestly this might make a pretty cute series!

little nurse

pairing: miguel o’hara x nurse fem reader

contents: mentions of blood/injuries and masturbation (m)

author’s note: decided to split this up into two parts, i hope you don’t mind :) very limited medical knowledge btw (one szn of grey’s anatomy and dr mike accounting for that 😖)

word count: 4.1K

Miguel O'Hara appeared in your life out of thin air. Literally.

You were trudging home from work around eleven at night, your scrubs smelling like disinfectant and dark circles adorning your under eyes. You'd been looking forward to taking a shower and getting as much sleep as you could before your next shift, your plans completely shifting when someone dropped in front of you. A masked man landed in front of you, clad in a Spider-Man costume. The sleep that you were longing for quickly faded away, replaced by a feeling of concern as you kneeled over to see if he had fractured his spine or his head with the fall. "How many fingers am I holding up?" You asked, holding up three as you waited for some kind of assurance that he was awake.

After receiving no response from the man, you dragged him into your apartment to work on him inside. You were grateful to whatever entity there was above that you lived in a downstairs apartment, the task of taking the man inside proving more difficult than you'd originally thought. You let out a small huff as you dragged him onto the rug in the center of your living room, shutting the door afterwards. You looked down at the man, almost tempted to take off the mask and reveal who was underneath the Spider-Man mask. After more careful consideration, you decided that it probably wasn't the best idea while he was in such a vulnerable position and grabbed your phone from your purse.

You'd gotten some old blouses that you were planning on throwing away, using them as a tourniquet around his stomach to stop the bleeding. You pressed two fingers to his neck to try to feel for a pulse, a bit slow but at a steady rhythm. After making sure his heartbeat was stable, you pressed your head down to your chest to listen for his breathing, the sound coming out ragged. "Stay with me, please," you silently whispered as your bloody fingers typed away at your phone screen, opening up the phone app. You'd finished up typing up the final one of the emergency number, a large gloved hand stopping you from answering the dispatcher on the other line.

"No, no. Please don't do that," the masked man underneath you pleaded as he slowly started to regain consciousness. You were made aware that not only would he run the risk of getting his identity exposed, but he'd also run the risk of having the nypd arrest him for the crimes he's committed as a vigilante. "Now do you understand why I can't go to the hospital?" He asked, almost like he wanted to make sure what stood at stake for him. "Okay, I'll trust you for now. But if you start bleeding out in my living room, then I'll take you to the hospital. Does that sound good?" You answered reluctantly, watching as he nodded.

You grabbed some gloves from one of your kitchen drawers, kneeling down next to him as you reached for the zipper on the back. "Do you mind if I take this off?" You asked, wanting to get his approval before you got started on anything. "Whatever you need to do to me, doc," he answered, sitting a bit up so you could reach the zipper better. You zipped down his suit, pulling it off his arms and sliding it down to his stomach. "How's your head? You hit it pretty hard when you fell," you asked him, wanting to get a better assessment of how his health was. You felt around his stomach, trying to find if there was any internal bleeding but you knew that the results would be more accurate with a CT scan.

"My head's fine, just a bit of blindness in my right eye," he deadpanned, your eyebrows practically shooting up to your hairline as you turned to look at him. "I'm joking, doc. I'm all good," he added, a small chuckle following after. "I'd smack you if your ribs weren't probably broken right now," you muttered, getting up from the floor to grab a suture kit from your bedroom. Only the sounds of his breathing could be heard as you worked on the large gashes covering most of his abdominal region, steady fingers working the needle through the thread to stop any further bleeding. You wiped away at some of the dried blood, cleaning him up to the best of your ability before pressing your hands down on his stomach to see if he had any further pain.

"I don't have any strong meds at my house, I only have Tylenol so I hope that works for you," you announced as you looked over at your medicine cabinet, surprisingly empty for the line of work that you'd chosen. "Give me the prognosis, doc. How long do I have to live?" he asked as you handed him the bottle of pills with a glass of a water. "I'm not a doctor, just a nurse. And I'd say a couple more minutes, if you're lucky. Might last longer if you don't annoy me as much," you teased him back, grabbing a couple bandages to finish up with the job. You wrapped them around the places where you placed the stitches, making him a little first aid kit just in case he'd need it. "If your stitches pop out or anything, just come back here. You know where I live."

He pulled the zipper back on, grabbing the first aid kit from you before he headed towards the door. "I'll see you next time I get hurt, little nurse," he told you, making it seem more like a promise than a goodbye. "Try not to make this a daily thing, please," you responded before he had the chance to leave, the eyes of his mask slightly raising. "I can't make any promises, lindura," he swung away after he finished speaking, sticking to the building in front of your apartment complex. You couldn't help but look out at him as he left, watching the way that he maneuvered the webs to the best of his ability despite the injuries that he'd sustained.

Miguel continued to seek you out as his nurse every time that he got hurt after that, enjoying the small banter and jokes between the two of you. Getting to be around you once more felt like the highlight of every fight that he got into, the assurance that you would be there to patch him up giving him the motivation that he needed to get up and fight crime. Despite the small jabs that you took at him, you proved to care about him time and time again with each wound that you treated. You never asked him any questions about his identity, never made him out to be anything bigger than what he had to be. Despite the fact that he wore the mask around you, he'd never felt more exposed around a human being in his life before.

Miguel found himself to be distracted by the thought of just seeing you again, constantly. He found himself wanting to get hurt just so he'd have an excuse to need your assistance, to have your soft hands running across his flesh as you stitched him up. His attention wasn't diverted only when he was dressed up as Spider-Man, the affection that he held towards you following him all the way to the lab he worked at. He'd mixed up two chemicals that he shouldn't have, causing a negative reaction in one of the rats that he was testing on and having to discard his experiment completely. "Focus, O'Hara. We're not here to pick up after your messes," his co-worker and superior, Aaron Delgato, told him during lunchtime with that same stupid smug expression he always carried on his face.

Normally, Miguel would've had something to respond back with but he couldn't find it in him to care that much at the moment. "Yeah, yeah," he ended up muttering back, pushing away his concerns as he sipped at the bitter coffee from the cafeteria. Normally the bitter taste of the coffee would've made him spit out the substance, the taste becoming slightly better when you were at the forefront of his mind. Instead of throwing it away after the first sip, he ended up taking a couple more sips before throwing it away in the sink. He spent the day at work focusing on his reports, having to stay a bit later to make up for the work that he'd messed up earlier just so he wouldn't have to deal with Aaron's condescending comments and stupid smirk as he questioned Miguel's ability to work the job he did.

He got home at around 6:30, two hours after his shift ended. The sound of door closing echoed throughout the empty halls of his home, the environment completely devoid of anything homely apart from a couple pictures and a bookshelf full of scientific journals that he'd enjoyed. He stripped away from his clothes once he got into his bedroom, wanting to remove himself from the lab as much as possible. He got into the shower before he had to head out for his vigilante duties, knowing that he knew would be too tired to do so when he got back home. The cold stream of water hit his muscles as he stood underneath, putting his forehead against the cold tiles of the wall. He felt depraved as he thought about you while he stood here, feeling himself grow more and more ashamed as he resisted the urge to wrap his hand around his cock.

Eventually, he ended up giving into his desires and wrapped his fingers tightly around his cock. He closed his eyes to help him envision a scenario with you, his mind running through with images of you underneath him. His grip on his cock tightened, wanting to replicate the feeling of what your cunt would feel like. He smeared some of the precum leaking out of his tip all around his shaft with his thumb, letting out a small hiss as he felt himself growing more aroused with every second that passed. He started off slow, wanting to prolong this orgasm as much as possible.

He pictured you starting off by sticking your tongue out for him as you sat on your knees underneath him, doe eyes looking at him expectantly as your hand wrapped around the base of his cock. Your mouth would engulf around the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it to capture every drop of precum that leaked out. His thumb ran around his tip to simulate every aspect of his scenario, precum sticking to his fingers as he did. He couldn't help but think about how beautiful you would look as you struggled to adjust to the feeling of his cock around your mouth, tears threatening to leak through as you fought off the urge to gag. "Oh shock, keep going," he moaned out, almost feeling like you were in the room with him.

His hand moved faster around his cock, fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft as he tried to get himself off. His eyes remained closed as the cold water ran through his body, his mind still continuing with the scenario from earlier. He felt his cock twitch in his hand, picturing how you would look with ropes of cum splattered onto your face. His release was more uneventful than he'd expected it to be, hit with the clarity of the situation immediately as the water washed the sticky substance from his hands. His forehead remained pressed against the shower wall, wanting to eliminate every negative thought that he'd been presented with. He felt perverted for taking advantage of you in this way, of taking advantage of the way that you were just so ready to help him out, but he couldn't help but feel his desire for you grow even more with every smile that you gave him.

He got out of the shower a couple minutes later, taking a few moments to reflect on what he'd done before finishing up with the rest of his shower routine. "Did you finish making the final adjustments to my suit?" He asked as his hologram assistant appeared next to him, a towel wrapped around his waist as he walked to the closet. "I did. You should find the material to be a bit more durable than the one that you previously used. Though the news reports show that it's going to be close to freezing so I would recommend for you to stay home," LYLA responded, before giving him the detailed report of what she'd done to his suit. "Crime doesn't stop just because it's a little cold. I'm sure I'll be fine," he muttered, grabbing the suit hanging up on the back of his closet.

Miguel shivered as he sat on top of a rooftop, overlooking the city as he waited for something to happen. He would have to make a mental note to add some insulation to the redesign of his suit, finding every minute outside to be excruciating. He removed the bottom part of his mask, blowing onto his bare hands as he rubbed them together. His feet swung on the edge of the building, ears perked up as he tried to listen in on conversations to discern whether anybody actually needed his help tonight. He was about to leave for the night around 30 minutes later, his plans getting stopped when he heard a lady scream across the street.

Miguel handed the purse back to the lady who was getting robbed, fighting the thugs that had tried to rob her proving to be the most exciting thing that happened all night. "Thank you Spider-Man!" The woman called out as he swung away, receiving a curt nod in response before he swung away. He ended up having to fight a couple low-grade robbers and car-jackers, nothing too big for the night. He got back home after finishing up the mundane tasks, feeling himself shivering even as he was welcomed by the warmth of the fireplace in his living room. LYLA had already started with her remarks about how he probably ended doing himself more harm than good, getting shut off two minutes into her monologue. He stripped off his clothing, sitting down on his couch with his legs spread out as he tried to warm up.

Miguel let out a groggy moan as he got up to the sound of his alarm, rubbing his hand across his temples as he laid on the couch. He could hardly get up to go to the bathroom, finding himself unable to head into work today. "I need to call in sick today," Miguel mumbled into the phone, knowing that Aaron was probably rejoicing at his weakened state. "You already messed up the experiment and now you want to take the day off? You're really slacking here, O’Hara," aaron remarked with a small 'tsk', speaking just loud enough for anyone to be able to overhear their conversation. "I don’t see why I have to explain myself to you but I'm sick. The experiment's gonna end even more messed up if I do end up showing up," Miguel answered, a small cough coming out of his end almost on cue.

After getting the reluctant approval of Aaron to stay home, miguel made his way to his bedroom and snuggled underneath his blanket. "LYLA, set up an appointment for me tomorrow at the medical center downtown please," he asked his ai assistant, his words coming out raspy and hoarse. "Why would you want me to do that? I can give you a full health assessment and recommend the right types of medicine that you need, Way better than a doctor ever could," she responded, appearing next to him with a face mask and little nurse hat on. "If I wanted you to do that, I would've asked. Just set me the appointment please," he mumbled, reaching over on his bed stand to get a tissue. LYLA was about to protest once more, but decided to go ahead and do the task when she heard Miguel coughing once more.

Miguel spent most of the day in bed, sweating underneath his tiger blanket despite the fact that he felt himself shivering. He found out the hard way that Vaporub did not in fact cure every one of his aches, though his nose wasn't too stuffed up after using it. He got up around 6 pm when he felt his stomach grumble, walking over to the kitchen to make himself something to eat. He turned on the afternoon news, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything too bad threatening the city. He saw that there had been a couple reports of robberies around the city, leaving it up to the police since he wasn't sure how useful he would be with his nose running every minute. He turned off the tv and poured the chicken soup that had been brewing on the oven into plate, sitting down at the dinner table to have something to eat. All he could do for now was simply wait for what the doctor would prescribe him, a part of him hoping that he would be able to see you.

"Miguel O'Hara?" You called out, looking around the sickly people in the waiting room before a tall man stood up. "That's me," he responded, his sinuses clearly stuffed up as he spoke. You led him back into the rooms, walking to the treatment rooms as you looked through the clipboard. "It's been a while since you've been here so i'm gonna go ahead and update your medical file," you informed him, looking back at him as he nodded. You led him to a wall with a measure taped on it, grabbing a pen from one of the pockets of your scrubs. You were about to take his height, noticing that his figure loomed over the measure. Your eyes widened slightly, your mind rubbing through what you could possibly do.

You grabbed an extra measure from a drawer, grabbing a chair nearby before getting up on it to tape it up on the wall. "You could've asked me to do that, y'know? I wouldn't have minded doing a favor for such a pretty nurse," he mused as he looked up at you, his lips immediately pursing together at the dirty look that you shot him. You got off from the chair, looking up at the two measures taped together before counting the extra inches. "Alright, 6'9," you muttered to yourself, writing it down on the clipboard before motioning for him to step on the electronic scale next to the side. You took his weight after the machine stopped counting, writing down the results before leading him to his assigned treatment room.

You washed your hands at the sink, putting on a bit of hand sanitizer before putting on a pair of gloves. "What seems to be the problem?" You asked, wanting to get a synopsis of what he thought was wrong before you made any guesses. "The problem is that you haven't accepted a dinner invitation with me. I'm sure my cold would heal a lot faster if you did, just saying. Trust me, I'm also a doctor," he mused, relishing as you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. While you'd had your fair share of patients flirt with you, having to deal with their advances tested your patience bit by bit. The man in front of you wasn't exactly unattractive, but he didn't make you feel the same excitement that you felt every time that you saw Spider-Man. You folded your arms and looked at him, staying silent until he decided to divulge what had been bothering him.

"My nose's stuffed up, my chest feels like it's full of phloem, and I can't stop coughing up a lung," he responded, allowing you to get a glimpse of what was really bothering him. "It sounds like you just have a cold but I'll get your blood work done just to make sure that I get an accurate result," you told him, grabbing a small needle to prick him. Before he got the chance to tell you that the blood work wouldn't reveal much, you'd already collected the blood in a small tube. "The doctor will be right with you, Mr. O’Hara," he'd heard you say before the door closed, leaving him alone with the knowledge that you didn't feel the same way about him while he was unmasked.

The doctor came in and did what they were supposed to, taking his heartbeat and his temperature. "It seems like you just have a cold, Mr. O’Hara. Take some time to rest at home and don't overexert your body," the doctor had warned him, handing him a small paper with a prescription for what seemed to be cough syrup on it. He took the paper from the doctor, looking over at you with a small smile as you stepped into the room. The doctor handed the chart over to you, giving you a shortened explanation of what the diagnosis had been. You read over his chart, reaffirming what the doctor had already said before you dismissed him.

"I forgot to mention, your blood test came back inconclusive. I'm sure it was just the machine since it said it couldn't really identify you as fully human," you told him before he had the chance to leave, his figure looming over yours as he waited for you to finish speaking. "I hope you get your machine fixed soon. I'm sorry if i did something to damage it. By the way, are you certain that you don't want to say yes to that dinner I mentioned earlier?" He insisted with his previous offer, his hand lingering on the doorknob as he waited for your response. "I'm sure, thank you for the very kind offer," you reaffirmed, stepping out of the room once he'd walked out.

You headed to the back to talk with your friends, seeing Miguel at the hospital's pharmacy to get the cough syrup prescription filled. "I heard you rejected your patient's advances when he asked you out to dinner. This one's pretty cute and rich, so what happened?" Nurse Maya asked you, pretending to sift through some files just in case a doctor passed by. "Girl, you know she's obsessed over that Spider-Man guy. How's it been going treating him for free, anyways?" Your other friend, Nurse Valeria asked, looking up from her computer just to take note of your expression. You hated how easy the news travelled in the hospital, avoiding Miguel’s gaze as you turned to look at your two friends.

"It's been going decent, thank you. And there's nothing new to tell, Spider-Man hasn't been showing up to my house lately. I kinda have missing being his little nurse," you responded, watching as they both rolled your eyes. "Of course you had to go and fall in love with the masked psycho," Maya muttered before the three of you talked about something else. You couldn't help but laugh as Maya went through her recent dating dilemma, blissfully unaware to the fact that someone had been listening to your conversation while they were waiting for their prescription to be filled.

Miguel couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he heard you speak about Spider-Man in the way that you did, speaking about his alter ego like a high school girl with a crush. "Mr. O'Hara?" The pharmacist behind the counter called out for what seemed to be the hundredth time, finally diverging his attention long enough from you to be able to do their job properly. "Thank you," Miguel mumbled awkwardly, the smile on his face quickly fading away as he paid for the cough syrup. He took a small spoonful of it in his car while he waited for the blue light to turn off, silently hoping that it would work and he could get back to fighting crime once more.

Though he felt a little discouraged at the way you'd shut him off with every flirting attempt that he made, he knew that at some level you had to feel some kind of attraction for him. His mind began coursing with different ideas of how to approach this situation, almost jealous of the way that you viewed his alternate ego. He started to wonder what it would be like if he was able to flirt with you the same way that he was able to as Spider-Man, what it would be like to have that confidence without the use of the mask. The way you spoke about him was almost endearing, the way that you described what it felt like to have Spider-Man come for your services and the way that you felt while you stitched him up. All that he knew is that he needed to come up with a solution about how to approach this crush for you and fast.

#muchosbesitos #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #smut #atsv miguel #spiderman across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman atsv #spiderman #spiderman smut #atsv smut #miguel fanfic #miguel smut #miguel atsv #spiderman 2099 smut

[sorcerous-caress]

So fun fact about me irl I work with children but often my teacher language slips out like telling my friends to say “bye bye bus”, telling another person in my lecture writing to “be nice to the pencil, it’s your friend.” And greeting a roomful of grown as adults with good morning boys and girls. It’s mortifying but How do you think the companions would react to having a teacher!tav slip up like that.

Dealing with a Teacher Tav

[Bg3, fluff, platonic kinda, nb!reader]

[Gale, Shadowheart, Laezel, Wyll, Karlach, Astarion, Halsin, Minthara, Jaheira, Minsc]

Gale

He delightfully plays along whenever you tell him to thank a stranger or say goodbye to an inanimate object. He thinks it's very silly and joyous.

Teachers have always been a big part of his life, it doesn't phase him in the slightest when you unawarly awake the deep memories of being in wizards pre-school for him.

Says good morning to you back, adding a teacher honorific at the end for the sake of being playful while asking if you've finally graded the homework he handed in.

He gives you an apple occasionally. He thinks he is very hilarious.

Shadowheart

She freezes in awkwardness whenever it happens, not sure if you’re being serious or just playing around. Sometimes, you don't even register slipping up as go on with your day, leaving her wondering if she's imagining things.

She has zero experience with the school system, completely confused by the need to say thank you for carriage after it arrived. It's just a carriage, why should she?

One time while her and Laezel were arguing, you used the same call you'd use in the classroom to get the kids to quiet down and it completely caught them both off guard. They just stood there baffled, forgetting their original argument.

Laezel

Why, yes, she is very familiar with teachers. In fact, she was the best out of her class, ask any githyanki teacher, and they'd tell you endless praise about her throat cutting techniques and sword welding stances.

You, whoever, use very unusual teaching techniques. How would learning a song about washing your hand and brushing your teeth help her in slaying her enemies?

Intriguing, so you take advantage of the brain's tendency to latch on to phrases that rhyme, which makes them easier to remember? And you encode your melodies with instructions to embed them into the impressionable youth?

Huh. She actually is impressed. She made her decision, you will lend your teaching skills to help her embed the most effect way of fracturing someone's spine into a melody to spread to the githyanki children.

Wyll

As someone who has been an unofficial teacher for so many kids throughout his years, he can relate to your struggle a lot. He slips up more than he cares to admit.

The both of you meeting early in the morning while still groggy and tired, your brains working on automatic mods as you greet each other with the same high pitched enthusiastic voice you use to greet a toddler.

Then just stare at each other, complete understanding between the two of you. Like two people accidentally using their customer service voice in front of the other.

You struggle to tie your boots once, and he unconsciously bends down to tie them for you while using the rabbit loop euphemism, only to stop in his tracks as he realises what he's doing.

He uses a curse word once, and you immediately use your teachers voice and say, "we don't speak like that here, that's wasn't very nice."

You're both tired, you both need a nap and neither of you brings it up when the other slips.

Karlach

Much like Gale, she finds it extremely amusing. Top tier comedy to her. Unlike Gale, she hasn't been to any proper schooling system, so she doesn't exactly know what most of these phrases mean or imply.

In a way, it lets her pretend she was a part of something like a school in her youth, like she could've had a normal childhood like everyone else.

She'd indulge you, saying goodbye and thank you to the pigeon that delivered her a letter, or overhearing Wyll's rabbit loop ryhme and whispering it under her breath as she ties her own boots. Who knew this could've been so easy?

Astarion

You remind him of how Leon was with his daughter back in Cazador's manor. Astarion never was close with any of them, but still, he sometimes overheard him attempting to give his daughter a semblance of a normal childhood and growth.

It's endearing when you accidentally use your teaching ways while dealing with the owlbear cub, but he'll never admit it.

Doesn't indulge you with it, he has appearance to keep. Well, unless he has a chance to twist your innocent meaning words into a sex or gorey joke like the 12y old humour that he has.

Ah, the scrowl on your face is the exact same one Leon had around him, such fond memories.

Halsin

Ah, you bring him back to his old days of having to deal with the children at the grove. Although his methods focused more on showing them that nature is a friend rather than inanimate objects.

But who is he to judge your ways? If anything he could learn a thing or two from you to add to his skillset.

Tells you about the fables that were passed down from elf to elf throughout the generations, animal stories have always done a great part in teaching him morality.

Do you happen to have any? Maybe you could tell it to the children of the grove, they are good kids.

Minthara

As a noble, she was only given the best and most prestigious of teachers while growing up. Even the ones that weren't a drow would still be considered the best of the best, crème de la crème.

Yet not a single one of them applied such...childish methods. etiquette and discipline were taught by the lash and threat of punishment, not lullabies and gentle guidance.

....it's not as bad as she imagined.

She doesn't get why some of your companions find it amusing. She doesn't bother indulging either.

But sometimes, sometimes, when it's just the two of you, and she is sure not a single soul is around, she will reply with a pun with the most deadpan face expression you've seen.

Jaheira

Despite what most would think, she actually integrated the same methods into her teachings back when her kids were little, it just happened to be weaved with her more dangerous lifestyle ascept.

Here comes the plane, with the airplane usual holding a good dosage amount of poison to build resistance.

A short rhyme about what to check before leaving the house, except the list has a suspicious amount of daggers and trap disarm kits in it.

If it works, it works, so what if she had to alter a kid's book about a honey loving yellow bear into one with decipherable texts to teach them Harpers' secret communication language.

Minsc

Ah! Boo does use the same method on him sometimes, the two of you have a lot in common. Although Boo's methods do involve a bit of biting every now and then.

Say, how about he teaches you some fables from Rashemen, a lot of them are about a rabbit who got lost after not listening to his witch frog companion.

You could use it in your teachings later! Show the youth the importance of good teamwork. Yes, he is aware of the fact he didn't listen to Jaheira and got captured by the cult. No, he doesn't see why this is relevant? Why is Boo suddenly agreeing with you? He is supposed to be on his side.

#♡Gale #♡Shart #♡Astarion #♡Laezel #♡Wyll #♡Minthara #♡Halsin #♡Jaheira #♡Minsc #♡Karlach #♡fluff #♡several characters #gale x reader #shadowheart x reader #astarion x reader #karlach x reader #wyll x reader #minthara x reader #halsin x reader #jaheira x reader #Minsc x reader #bg3 x reader #bg3 fluff #baldur's gate 3 x reader #laezel x reader

[fintan-pyren]

Sometimes, life is busy. You shouldn't let that stop you from enjoying a good book, but who has the time to read the same words over and over again?

For your enjoyment and convenience, I have removed all duplicate words from the first Keeper of the Lost Cities book.

blurry fractured memories swam through sophie’s mind but she couldn’t piece them together tried opening her eyes and found only darkness something rough pressed against wrists ankles refusing to let move a wave of cold rushed as the horrifying realization dawned was hostage cloth across lips stifled cry for help sedative’s sweet aroma stung nose when inhaled making head spin were they going kill would black swan really destroy their own creation what point project moonlark then everblaze drug lulled toward dreamless oblivion fought back clinging one memory that could shine tiny spot light in thick inky haze pair beautiful aquamarine fitz’s first friend new life ever maybe if hadn’t noticed him day museum none this have happened no knew it’d been too late even white fires already burning curving city filling sky with sticky smoke spark before blaze miss foster mr sweeney’s nasal voice cut blaring music he yanked earbuds out by cords you decided you’re smart pay attention information sophie forced open not wince bright fluorescents reflected off vivid blue walls amplifying throbbing headache hiding sweeney mumbled shrinking under glares now staring classmates pulled shoulder-length blond hair around face wishing hide behind it exactly kind went way avoid why wore dull colors lurked blocked other kids who at least foot taller than survive twelve-year-old high school senior perhaps can explain listening your ipod instead following along held up like evidence crime though probably he’d dragged class natural history balboa park assuming his students be excited about all-day field trip didn’t seem realize unless giant dinosaur replicas came started eating people cared tugged loose eyelash nervous habit stared feet there make understand needed cancel noise hear chatter from dozens tourists echoed fossil-lined splashed cavernous room mental voices real problem scattered disconnected pieces thoughts broadcast straight into brain being hundreds tvs different shows same time sliced consciousness leaving sharp pains wake freak secret burden since fell hit five years old she’d blocking ignoring nothing helped never tell anyone wouldn’t you’ve above lecture don’t give asked pointed enormous orange duckbill center how lambeosaurus differs dinosaurs we’ve studied repressed sigh flashed an image card front display glanced entered photographic recorded every detail recited facts twisted scowl classmates’ grow increasingly sour weren’t fans resident child prodigy called curvebuster finished answer grumbled sounded  know-it-all stalked exhibit next over follow thin separating two rooms block muffled grabbed little relief nice job superfreak garwin chang boy wearing t-shirt said i’m gonna fart sneered shoved past join they’ll write another article child teaches lame-o-saurus still bitter yale had offered full scholarship rejection letter arrived few weeks allowed go parents much pressure young end discussion so attending closer smaller san diego college year fact some annoying reporter newsworthy enough post local paper chooses ivy league complete photo freaked wasn’t strong word more half rules unnecessary front-page articles pretty worst nightmare they’d newspaper complain editor seemed unhappy story run place on arsonist terrorizing trying figure mistake bizarre white-hot flames smelled burnt sugar took priority everything especially unimportant girl most ignore or used caught sight tall dark-haired reading yesterday’s embarrassing black-and-white looked seen particular shade teal smooth sea glass beach glittered flickered expression gaze disappointment decide shrugged leaning closed distance between smile belonged movie screen heart did weird fluttery thing is pointing picture nodded feeling tongue-tied fifteen far cutest talking i thought squinted brown uh yeah sure say reason felt conversation accent british somehow crisper which bothered know are suck words soon left mouth course boys cute made mushy perfect returned told hulking greenish standing albertosaurus all its lizardesque glory me do think that’s it’s absurd

isn’t see saw small t rex: big teeth ridiculously short arms fine laughed i’ll get meet turned leave just classes kindergartners barreled fossil crushing screaming knock step whole realm pain kids’ stinging high-pitched needles many once angry porcupine attacking hands darted rubbing temples ease stabbings skull remembered alone reaction locked forehead pained imagined seconds hushed blood drain mean created plenty racket shrieks squeals giggles plus sixty individual chattering away gasped solved earlier everyone boy’s distinct accented speaking totally completely silent possible whispered widened moved whisper telepath flinched skin itch gave can’t believe backed exit reveal total stranger okay holding sort wild animal calm afraid froze my name’s fitz added stepping name searching sign part joke joking thinking wobbled spent seven find someone else world tilted sideways steady here looking twelve we better question: want air jerked bolted door stumbling shaky legs rhythm sucked breaths ran down stairs burned lungs bits ash flew ignored wanted space strange come shouted picked pace raced courtyard base steps wide fountain grassy knolls sidewalk got inside because poor quality footsteps gaining wait pouring energy sprint fighting urge glance shoulder halfway crosswalk sound screeching tires reminded both ways terrified driver struggling stop car plowed right die second blur swerved missing inches jumped curb sideswiped streetlight heavy steel lantern cracked plummeted instincts hand shot pulling strength somewhere deep gut pushing fingertips force collide falling gripping extension arm dust settled floated feel weighed ton put familiar warned bringing trance shrieked dropped without hurtled watch yanking split crashed ground impact knocked tumbled body broke fall landed chest stretched flurry questions swirling coherent idea sat replaying sense need witnessed miracle tighten panic let’s overwhelmed plan resist street reached intersection north zoo where crowd during firestorm running missed hearing changed terrifying scenarios involved government agents throwing dark vans experiments watched road ready bolt anything suspicious zoo’s massive parking lot relaxed outside milling cars happen witnesses slowed walk breath promise sincere easier opened hesitated supposed am trust won’t considered father sent specific age observe report always talk frowned disappointed himself does means expected threw what’s wrong touched eyelids suddenly selfconscious figured again awe us stopped whoa hang ‘one us’ frowning spotted fanny-pack-wearing within earshot deserted corner ducking green minivan there’s easy we’re human stunned speak hysterical laugh escaped repeated shaking riiiiiight insane trusting kicked stomped telling truth minute last listen plea humans vanished gone reeling leaned argued taking clear set pole minutes ago almost three managed finally saying alien erupted laugher cheeks grew hot also relieved compose elf hung foreign object belong visions tights pointy ears danced giggling expect guess stick wavy spikes rock star good crazy agreed refused serious frodo ring save middle-earth toys hid corners showed oh ought folded slender silver wand intricate carvings etched sides tip round crystal sparkled sunlight magic asking rolled actually pathfinder spun latch top dangerous you’ll faded depends take concentrate matter happens proof prove whisk land curious harm someone’s willed palms sweat fingers laced stupid tingled everywhere scanning warning look scowled bit tongue concentrated racing seriously become those silly girls counted raising facet beam refracted tightened grip forward warm tingling million feathers swelling underneath tickling giggle melted goo keeping oozing blanket warmth wrapped faster blink eye might squeaked stood edge glassy river lined impossibly trees fanning emerald leaves among puffy clouds row castles walt disney throw rocks kingdom golden path led sprawling elaborate domed buildings built brick-size jewels each structure color snowcapped mountains surrounded lush valley crisp cool

cinnamon chocolate sunshine places exist less appear forgotten released realized hard squeezing unable castle towers oddly our capital call eternalia heard shangri-la lost cities you’d stories rarely ridiculous things elves burst quiet gentle breeze brushing soft murmur traffic hammering unspoken very silence rising tiptoes view streets ghost town building towered others stones emeralds banner flying tribunal progress everyone’s watching proceedings council basically royalty holds broken law they’re deal laws well shook wrap cringing question funniest glared funny regained control try cling remaining strands sanity sun casting ray onto leaping hitched ride headed impossible infinite travel haven’t theory relativity stumped dumbest i’ve albert einstein huh dumb argue confident unnerving harder waited feather sensation dryer scattering directions until rubber band later shivering ocean whipping glowed carved moonlight failed passed bring herself true science book read confused observed ‘hey learned smug grin best minds begin comprehend complexities reality elves’ ahead slowest trump proper education shoulders sagged sank four scenery blurred whether tears entire lie nudged hey fault believed taught i’d done works bells chimed large gateway floor-length velvet capes draped tunics emerged followed creatures marching military formation rocky pants muscles prominently flat noses coarse gray pleated folds armadillo goblins signed treaty hating trembling dressed forbidden lumenaria worlds gnomes dwarves ogres trolls mentioning focused motioned farther squatting betrayed ancient councillors intelligent rule planning war ancients violence disappeared forbid any contact devices working defend race famine problems chilled frigid wind licking who’d known must’ve after eventually evolved myths simple yes peeked glowing crucial identity clicked spinning thousand loud clang gate stepped shadows sleek cobalt home jolted mom bus bland boring stole incredible blinding swept smoky fresh surprised recognized plain square houses narrow tree-lined house ask lived coughed handle putting pollutes planet these aren’t normal chemical smells usually wildfires smell barbecue melting cotton candy burn rain arsonists admitted pocket hoping notice dad wants knows neither important meant mystery he’s happy careful please shown today thank act family doesn’t suspect squared courage telepaths special ability rarer ones thirteen six months corrected liking youngest manifest start reverberated scanned positive waking hospital moment forget hooked kinds machines hovering shouting barely separate hold happening group adults haunted worry brows narrowed doing extra private keep wall weak hated bossed answering concerned action worked imagining stretching shadow mine blurted pale process hardest worries live fumbled answers long trouble knees link amazing will tomorrow panicked battered cluttered living phone she’s receiver having reeled daggers calling wandering worried police sorry stammered convincing horrible liar scared mom’s anger concern nervously curly guy realizing lies based freaking walked trolley train teacher guard ugh complained closing adult rubbed wrinkle appeared stressed upset safe stand weirdo understood dangers teased tormented bullied deflate wish trailed close rest sister slipped pin painful tight hug welcome honey dinner ten amy upstairs kitchen unease twist stomach worn linoleum pastel tacky knickknacks ordinary glittering kissed cheek shabby briefcase table how’s soybean wink baby apparently pronouncing thousands times lid simmering pots garlic cream filled handed silverware turn crackin’ scooted plopped usual chair nine role mastered opposite lower average grades popularity sisters wondered definitely powers lowered breathing: inhale exhale repeat care nickname dizzy must lay should eat skipping acting fettuccine night favorite rich sauce sudden nausea tug eyelashes chewed bite swallow fork official thanks great homework sprinted bed hiss shattered marty pounding fluffy cat sitting tail slunk settling lap marty’s purring

confront downstairs settle explained blonde chubby brunette screamed throbbed deeper ripped apart blinked related change lots adopted poked brought e l fudges plate cookies milk getting sick palm fever tired cookie stumbled routine crawled blankets wrapping pillow dreams kissing tucked tradition breathe ella yep elephant stuffed sleep tonight um guys hugged tighter hours labor endured switched birth daughter doubt wondering anymore dreamed keebler perfected recipes liked oreos drown vat fudge woke overrated morning quick shower jeans shirt buttery yellow stripes item closet self-conscious wear gold flecks admit clipped toyed lip gloss snuck check crept yard blinking stuck contained next-door neighbor perch middle lawn forkle rearranging garden tableaux nosy checking effect beady bored hers loved sentences complaining 911 obligated gnome fraction inch gives headaches yapping interrupted ball fur streaked barking spandex jogging shorts chased grabbing dog leash clumsy lunge kneeled stroking wild-eyed panting creature drew growled strained mad sister’s hates displaying several halfmoon wounds bleeding scar suppose willing carry blocks seems winked piercing certainly yelled jogger guy’s louder chaos wonder grab drag should’ve trick react stopping tracks side man straightened height quite intimidating ordered glowered promised snorted grumbling moving explaining whenever appearance waiting incident eyewitnesses frustrating confusing bell rang lurking scream demanded loudly heads bad flashing cocky rush blush unanswered tries creepy snatch slow replayed scene remember growling forkle’s quietly quieter we’ll we’d eyeing suspected impending mischief leap english ditch yesterday strangle pull disappearing fail willingly use telepathy brushed whispering pushed further test tested permission assignment frustrated matters invading offense scrunch nod movement nearby oak drowned could’ve sworn jogger’s campus gestured tree either imagine adjusted shouldn’t anyway who’s committee sidelong heat breaking automatically furious enjoyed caused determines grinned future shield surveyed surroundings metal nearly everglen leading doors absorbs directly likes privacy stressful doubted king kong faint click swung inward striking clearing growing midnight cape fastened clasp diamond-encrusted wings lean vibrant resemblance alden introduced bow curtsy shake greet shy pleasure prominent kidding unusual flush smiled embarrassed fire alden’s injury muttered son shared kidnapping considering such might’ve paranoid has touch rude assure love kidnapper searched reassure kindness agree placed gently jacket ticked indeed fascinating sounding triumphant perfectly specifically nexus forgot covered dug cuff coat clamped bracelet wrist twisting fit snug comfortable accessory single jewel rectangle symbols letters spelled gibberish odd decorate finality safety precaution break particles carried concentration circumstances bare early fools overestimate skills fade cautious answered lose yourself able fully reform pulls forever goose bumps dimple cleared throat prefer reproving send mission collect long-lost guests wiped blooming red pink purple rainbow perfume flowers dizzying testing qualify foxfire paused fungus insulted prestigious academy named represents glow darkened comes ‘fungus’ strongest talent kiss goodbye excuse proud attend accomplishment earliest levels develops abilities continue studies elvin sneak work knowingly chills mixed night’s troubling revelation sickening councillor bronte difficult impress feels upbringing lack disqualify surprises existed miffed votes squat brown-skinned huge tended fairy tale plants slantways shuffled carrying basket twinkling fruit guessing pictured men hats statues servants stare choose safer gardens enjoy privileged taste gnomish produce lunch treat dig slimy tubers slugs hoped menu peeled meadow elegant manor entirely intricately numerous turrets gables rose tower resembled lighthouse braided foyer prism widest hallway fountains spouted streams colored water hall dead-ended encrusted jeweled mosaic

diamond unicorns amethyst spoke wealth squeezed formal dining sheer silk curtains drawing chandelier waterfall shimmering crystals platters fancy goblets figures jewel-encrusted circlets plush thronelike chairs surrounding curtsied necks clasps keys horribly underdressed fabrics except disguise kenric oralie football player toothy princess rosy ringlets met smallest cropped features finger pairs floor laughter squirmed joined pleased shape it’ll transformed noticing autorepeat: scooting oralie’s one’s died yet hurt immortal trace sorrow bodies aging reach adulthood wrinkles belongs yourselves guest uncovered grimace strips glop goop tasted juiciest cheeseburger stuff mashed carnissa root umber leaf tastes chicken animals tone ate toxic waste squirming grimaced vegetarians horror vegetables cheeseburgers tells swallowed mouthful thud discussing openly respond kenric’s jaws dry remembering warnings stay begun eight pass mentioned learn relax bronte’s icy gust common announced jaw flushing chagrined incredulous impenetrable key sentence ‘almost breached guilt conscience sounds infallible thinks likely exceptionally lift weight telekinesis recovering embarrassment shrank goblet accident raised lifting invisible scoffed unimpressed limitations unlike physical confidence clue giving blew pretending imaginary extend sharper worth saucers applauded excellent praise couple glasses determined stronger ounce core empty collective gasp including breathed celebrate cramped strain knocking thunderous collision open-mouthed shock hollered sealed clapped language guys’ enlightened leaped instinctive interesting babbling teasing noisy gripped ‘soybean’ mispronouncing blushed chuckled beside dusting waved insisted sighed suldreen stretch line rare species bird puzzle solve uncomfortable coincidence convince decision barked shoving moonlarks vote otherwise fight favor final fragile lovely empath emotions extended grasped delicate fear confusion sincerity describe azure settles revisited till adjust invoke demand probe planned arranged quinlin busy decipher fun training looks iffy ‘bothered’ dad’s reluctant emptiness exploded choked saving colder implications ditched stall punishment atlantis nowhere patch white-capped waves signs seagulls screech poop hardly continent tide pool triangular slip slick shoes match gown begged status noble members nobility offices empire waist beaded neckline dress costume seeing clothes: tunic embroidery edges pockets sewn sleeves exact size sit boots completed thankfully knowing biana comparison changing subject ledge engineered catastrophe compartment revealing bottles label bottle whirlpool uncorked flung blast whipped faces roar churning ladies suggested worse gulped maelstrom beneath salty sprayed jump push count dignity drowning flailing idiot formed tunnel dipping weaving craziest waterslide starting launched vortex sponge licked toe pack kittens minus kitten sprang cushion smoothed wet incoming rocketed slightly squishy packed sand gleaming metropolis dome beyond soared skyline bathing radiating spires network canals interconnected arched bridges pictures venice modern clean despite bottom underwater muted hum background seashell ear build stores power precisely amount changes plated reflect firelight illuminate sink wandered shops renaissance fair women’s gowns shifted advertised two-for-one specials bottled lightning fast approval spyball applications strolled hybrid chicken-lizard invented main canal hailed carriages floating almond-shaped boat rows high-backed benches elbow-length steered bench reins skimming surface eight-foot-long scorpion deadly pincers reared curled sting eurypterid stroked shiny shell eurypterid’s slice emitting low hissing petted harmless carriage quinlin’s yours fiber mutant insect doom probed gritted pressing hideous sonden’s office thrashed heebie-jeebies commute while secure needs protection file highly classified business district windows tracing bearing names treasury registry interspeciesial services unreadable random strings runes nonsense writing

alphabet clueless chin jumble nah affected gap kid option country tests dropping member broad kelp ornamentation precise read: sonden: chief mentalist cube swiped elbow ping assurances humiliating bypassed receptionist dim damp stone desk dark-skinned chin-length seat ceremony unique understatement squirm handing lick dna unsanitary tiniest hologram center: rotating unearthly breathing prentice sacrificed double helixes sacrifice reasons fears hundred seventy-eight murmured began pacing invaded she’ll greatest keeper older midstep record share trained charge protecting currently hidden karaoke game sing off-key notes clearly eavesdropping strip slid winding stairway climbed oval footage brush projected chill aerial southern california lines circle area images deepened valleys ruled reflections note interrupting communicate waving warn turning overreacting glancing shuddered desperate kidnapper’s threatened easily implied nameless faceless entity quickly threatening authorities would’ve shivered accelerant chemicals leads lighting spilling oil blowing investigate council’s position here: takes visit babysitter decent equally spying steam secrecy existence discovered hoax search updated slight bypassing distracted evillooking matches keepers lagoon glint shimmery dunes lake west shore statue topped hollow iridescent film shimmered loop apparatus resemble bubble lifted clung shrieking levitate forming touching bubble’s rumble coming geyser shoot eleven crash below bobbed where’s scary pure joy popped whisked glaring gates flash strode olive contrast youth shone nerve summoning personal shorter intimidated difference sooner exiled clench fists backward tiergan aware opinion summoned convinced tiergan’s fierce crumbled crossing expert inventory widening whatever foxfire’s newest mentor puppy officially weirding becomes provide retired given persuaded return resentment mixture surprise hone assistance reasonable restrictions pretend opportunity silencing bet terrible mood mumbling mostly irresponsible manage choice benefit stares notify dame alina returning kept bruise meantime session listed remedial schedule lessons dummies correct assumption warmed tuesday brilliant panel everglen’s grounds sessions study student subjects one-on-one nerves one-onone succeed mention level grade relearning self-doubt heavier fragmented disappear explanation aside pleasant dis arguing overstuffed armchairs woman squealed snickered wife della pinched gesturing dear vanishers smiling musical hint della’s beauty tossed pursed heart-shaped parents’ combined gangly troll interceded borrow errands frumpy files requested denied request approve grady edaline case torn radiant parcels strobe unwrapped packages clasped cord neck choker pendant elf-y anytime fund’s activated fund register money standard dollars lusters laughing luster dollar crinkled ew insult afford differently limited seventy eighty makes sad curved window overlooking silvery floor-to-ceiling aquarium wingback facing piled books scrolls anxiety remind stacks newspapers circled crossed news removed drawer theories irritation super stuttered discuss faced solution allow ours they’ve effective immediately too-simple accept kick constant discovery longer unbearable loneliness friends grasping overwhelm areas access severely restricted dead deciding gravestones became vivid: grave tearstained draw suffer struck complicated relocated jobs erase tear obvious believing shutting function erased armchair scrubbed forbade sob occurred risking twenty alert plans clothes sees wiping focus bent unshed horrors cringed buried trembled bouncing busted eavesdrop grounded hugging worrying pouted pettiness bratty obnoxious pain-in-the-butt embrace struggles play daughters mouths senses hook hurry daze rememorize room: dusty available quilt mother tripped furry crouching releasing pathetic meow disk sleeping gas release drugging physically ill backpack slung giggled elizabeth clutching anywhere couch fingered ordering thirty crumpled burying recognize crouched smearing drool snot drugged sobs

overcame jerk washers bags regret bear slept finish hawaiian family’s limp determination taken fourteen cried assured stranglehold haunting gets hope personally oversee relocation flared wrung guardians title selected enthusiasm strangers elwin’s blue-crystaled temptation shiver raked bones orphan conservatory lead backyard security choosing saved ache suffering gift raise ended abandoned wipe elwin physician medical hate doctors brave regular nightmares brief stays struggled dragging direction drop free implying biana’s glare escape punch bathed gigantic glued cushioned cot syringe goes fidget spectacles scientist snapped painless orb flasher manipulate skilled orem vacker show eclipse biggest celebrations traditions damage permanent tensed food chance innocent cells dashing depending orbs squinting lenses stunningly lit dramatic expecting toxins research rifled satchel vials liquids major detox braced medicine syrups nectar unknown fruits tingly drink youth legends enzymes essential health refreshing downed contents gulp drank medicines list follow-up checkup whistled sometimes heated lame stinky stegosaurus shame horrified production wimp doctor phobia jumping needle strap bunch shots allergic how’d concrete nine-one-one unconscious genes kicking trigger bedroom canopied chandeliers room’s gotten deserve ruined chanting mantra shut pajamas tuck asleep belonging alive twenty-five catch breakfast clock shop furniture detoxes materializing clutched ghostly exotic heartbreaker fitted glamorous shopping explosion behold wardrobe outfits extras pick beat-up sparkly casual packing leaked days unpack hungry knotted sadly dampened preserve havenfield exciting jolie deny loss wonderful booming fenced-in pastures spread scrambled versions rehabilitation centers sanctuary protected trap nessie artist endangered gorillas lions mammoths extinct thriving herd woolly colonies saber-toothed tigers slack exists rob qualities provides thrive feeding hunt diet steep cliffs caves flower-lined using ropes lasso lizard neon beast protest drama queen husky male commanded beast’s heave feat twice snaarrll bucked guardian lunged tangled writhed losing balance verdi tyrannosaurus comments meeting jaculus winged serpent feeds support contain bloodsucking snake claws snout tremble lowering fangs glinted slobber motioning glimpse dinosaur-riding chiseled feather-covered james bond robin hood balding relate handsome feathery banged pet rub rex’s stayed docile unblinking separated verdi’s wound plugged slime death rot tuna fish combination kelpie dung bites jar swear edaline’s grady’s wary compared palatial estate mansion standards columns cupola roof entryway central upper floors cascaded ceiling wispy fabric turquoise amber curls similar circles fluff presentable rex picking playing rodeo cowboy nope wash staircase sadness lingered tea mallowmelt insist gooey cake fresh-baked chip soaked ice frosting butterscotch dripping hasty slices served nook grazing linens painted china homesick woken lushberry juice pop possessed conjurer form teleporting objects coolest unfortunately scraggly slurps burps letting friend’s ached grieve fished imparter simply strangled pounded reassuring deafening third star-shaped dangled glittery weaved carpet scent canopy occupied dressing bookshelves brightly volumes bathroom bathtub swimming biting awesome assumed jolie’s tour awkward delicious soupy pizza unpacking wrinkled scrapbook wherever welled remnants dried sixteen sunrise streaks blending mirror darken awake finishing hovered doorway interrupt riser shades clap bruises conjured bowl spoon banana bread tempted impose sloppy handwriting upside symbol corner: bird’s beak tickled babble scare extremely documents cipher moisture particularly believable prescribed drawn eager fidgeting ruffles simplest bought hi kesler groaned island mysterium identical mold vendors spices sweets buzzed crowded sidewalks working-class social rank ‘talent simpler correspondingly unfair born lesser lives type designed village avoiding whispers ruewen pretended different

store crooked nursery rhyme burps: merry apothecary belched maze shelves pills laboratory beakers bubbling burners rainbow-colored lab skinny tousled strawberry periwinkle blob tubes add amarallitine dex tongs vial experiment poured beaker sparked plume dirty gag concoction exclaimed hello ‘hello impersonation sludge eda scrap sheet kesler’s brother-in-law nephew practically monday al freaks dimples burped beanpole hooded cloak vika annoyance handiwork written girl’s bald scalp meanwhile stina ’cause twitched battling sell solutions sasquatch dent bony appendages children throttle hairoids stock week wailed ogre wicked misses responsible friendly rage here’s spat helping customers potent hat flinch useless buy countered retort stina’s oooh slammed fist timkin heks helps situation traditional absolutely brings stuffy nobles happier grinning mess tweak supplies armful worktable sneaky beard dex’s evil mortar pestle teach tingle attempt fifty-seven solo property collapse practiced checked displayed sliver percent chose he’ll hawk mentors monitor weakness expelled pushes transferred exillium swallowing bile mounting attack messy juline riveted gossip interruption interest hilarious bookshelf mounted cover camera summer flipping pages naked mouse suit disneyland dizznee photos honestly movies outlets flipped technology solar powered rifling sir conley’s luck lady galvin highest rate rig calming flooded seventeen gadgets chimes arrive uniform skirt leggings shirt-vest-cape combo laceup jerkin long-sleeved slacks waist-length superhero captain blueberry rescue meaning order demonstrate rid wimpy halcyon mastodons mascot birds storm mastodon ceremonies costumes glad idiots appealing crest triangle heart: scarlet eagle soaring talons chemistry equipment theirs adopting adoption adopt temporary enrollment manticore themselves parties dies span cope calmed orphans wylie whose recover connection blames wylie’s hanging leapmaster 500 lucky authorized 250 tons rotated five-story pyramid sharply angled u stained seventh amphitheater extensive fields grass hopelessly prodigies uniforms building’s finding ducked starts orientation principal reads announcements attendance collar track peal close-up stunning porcelain caramel-colored foremost whoever reekrod weekend mark punished fullest extent threat dangle continued detect ah spotlight hissed viper’s nest ssssssophie hole crawl concludes today’s nearest exception divided wing banners bore midflight halls quad throughout sparkling sapphire chatted doorways lining atrium spectacle creating marked rune locker mirrored lock uses gross faculty picks flavors pepper sneeze croak yelped stench rotten eggs dash diaper muskog wheezy snicker whirled towering mass frizzy cackling hags stalking hairs shave earth serum friday retorted raven swishing behavior phasers ashamed apologize obviously spend detention alexine stinks beet minions kinda frog fumes catching jensi rapid-fire speech talked buckets redder instructed honest ‘human girl’ ‘sophie’ whim elementalism pride backtracked twists turns drops warped wooden session’s zapped ‘zapped’ thunderclap eighteen tray electrocuted quiver conley hitting fluted botched sending tornado tornadoes mastering elements entering foods series stalls court mall recognizable eaten tables cafeteria whom discourage joining verge perceptible message clear: focusing bigger jensi’s acne braces fairly slicked greasy ponytails drooled setting bang c’mon dude unison ‘e’ duh drooly volunteered singed universe daunting exaggerated messing ‘dude’ killing explode cough pixielike rescuing tossing petite balled braids suicide overeager marella mare nicknames obeyed enemies honored pucker licorice lemon fan prettypants rather grumpy brat brother’s dreamy willpower copying sip looped defending dizznees triplets says ‘bad match’ genetically incompatible inferior aunt uncle superstrange celebrities famous vackers superimportant marella’s sympathy grandma heartbroken helpless veins hopeless cases guarantee scooping mammoth shudder awful afternoon feared astronomical

learning astin whispery complex maps planetarium effortless excelled hour survived approaching dragon hateful invited feelings letters: extinguished stuffing fill animosity deck ‘nice uncanny royal highness bothers remembers talented ‘deck beaming nineteen thursday disaster goal sandwiched colosseum pe vanity near door: sneakers ponytail owned ship slap reply lasted compare redek squish may fool stops idle threats grouped twos tromps manifested fifty-fifty manifesting mysterious remark required variable reign terror ‘everyone’ impressive jolt supervise caton titan god informed channeling supereasy channel parts body: heights speeds normally unimpressive attempts threes bumped defense appetite startled spaceship unremarkable studying superintently snapping scraping probing concept unsettling establish forcing eighty-seven puckered brow assume cheerful scraped intended drained steadying suggest ethics attached meganeura exercise annoy fidgeted cocked wanna buzzing dived vulture-size dragonflies patted freaky-looking bug blown gargantuan proportions creepiest disco balls grown monster enclosure phys ed intense emergency weirdest part: proven trustworthy receive assignments lectured responsibility detecting discover elite avoided mesmer nauseated wow sheesh inflicting curiosity won causes dara lecture: pyramids tidal army hairy hollowing himalayas strangest mumble creeped exile interested dying supertalented fundamental guilty underground eternity ruin fluke churned abandoning illegal washer alter dump brother secluded sorted reminding effort flavored flumes spritzed shove disturbing failing smirked alchemy pupil encouraging cracking melody ominous ingredients trophies gilded items pointy-toed suspiciously midas milky liquid dancing rushing rustle red-brown updo hunter silky decorated patterns swished slightest alkahest universal solvent stored itself dissolves wood flesh taxes substance alchemist wise teaching masters tincture poultice basic serums yellowed box flask jars iron transmuting metals recipe formula labeled instructions fiddled rechecked mistakes plunged whip fizzed rumbled jelly galvin’s exquisite dissolved luxurious damaged salvage welt healing ma’am murder retrieve afterward muttering incompetence flunk sprawled hallways stark ditching keefe gulon disheveled untucked popular belva crush blame 90 certain paid accidentally cue epic alina’s ugly crying treated whiter phobia consisted rooms: treatment beds brewing physician’s paperwork slinky scurried bullhorn demented ferret banshee adorable fellow dramatically wanting seize mmm-hmm acid mimed effects destroyed salve measured whap wash present laughs clarification confirming twenty-one embellished version destruction joked bottling anwen multispeciesial 324 faxon metaphysics complimented requests brown-eye create overnight granted incredibly challenging explosions occurrence unlearn lifetime knowledge levitating rainbows constantly messed highlight skill effortlessly amazed unwanted transmit else’s psychic photograph needing patient plague suspicion snotty maruca i-hate-sophiefoster club reaching growl jealous prettiest bedlam subdue chasing rabbits antlers swinging trunk lump verminion pen boosted mammoth’s trumpeted earthshaking squeal ringing mound timid twig hiiiissssssssssss uncurled rodent bulging hamsters rottweiler-size hamsterzilla trample japanese hamster cooed snaarrrlll impressed chase steer dashed catches fifty stupidest clod mud nailed grooowwwwllll fatal flaw pinned grunted press snarling squeeze verminion’s unlocked assortment spewed whined pile gloves shed trade trudged oversize squirrels rats identify burlap sack quivering snarl steeled shriek batlike heaved wool scratches leg outbuildings carefully organized veterinarian’s laid sterile spreading limbs smeared eyedropper dripped creature’s rewarded squeaky rumbling crackly purr smiles cage barrel soapy chain-sawesque snores vibrating brattail tuber sausage imp guessed six-inch venomous stings snoring vicious describing tame yetis outnumbered conked chipper iggy strand swell

generous hugs touches gestures glistened dubious trails twenty-two sharing congested warthog roommate snuggly sleepless spoil caring ultimate splotching championship sacks cheered sympathetic secretly celebrating partnered naturally teamed splotcher splattered loses winners person wins marks smugly win splotch splat deserved colorful prize contest pardon hopes wonderboy gagging rounds beat opponent knots backing aim ow raw telekinetic flushed compliment disqualifies pumped victory hotter cheering opponents experience duel beginner’s talents mighty competition grumblings battle odds experienced evidently four: sixes trella dempsey paired hopeful muster bested winner fluttered appears competitors betraying butt preference keefe’s chant ladies’ float clenched adrenaline surged audience back-up splotches rebound phenomenon weightless collided simultaneous fate collapsed twenty-three placing compress wincing muscle injured whermiwhahapped worse: laying banshees mortal danger stirred lucid winced stiff glands zinged collected rebounded bounce specialized hammered controls actual mix matched draining practice evenly awfully sidelines wobbling auditorium applause teensy annoyed copied blushing elbowing ribs tie protested declared excused lesson rejoin splotchers acted delivered p congratulations confirm bath lathering bathers soggy instinctively besides creased drive twenty-four meter one-third younger that’d wonderboy’s precious midterms score seventy-five recommend nissa tutoring consider tutor projection gagged flavor yell daily tore prattle chewy caramel peanut butter pouch cracker jack horse mane prattles’ unicorn pins collection examined digital 122 185 number eighty-five super-rare bitterness vaguely compute unexpected development century too-little-too-late branch other’s replaced beeline simultaneously sniff aw stuck-up snob wasted invite humiliate walking ambush capable teeniest details clanged cricket chirped embroidered satin sash wringing exhaled seeming makeovers wrestling polite fortunately braid flutter dirt pitter-patter eh sayin’ shooting quest grateful team jealousy guarded raid questers tagged sentry tabs isolate general nail targets listened softer instantly presence tremendous connected forest thundered vision racked credible crashing bushes partner deceive insists hasn’t secrets toes staying chain apologizing visitors sulking funk snipe wagged there’ve weekly jokes havenfield’s defied exams panicking passing guide narrowing shipped exam brass copper transmutations ideas challenges thwarted spilled gashrooms reek pored frozen cause shattering cheated accomplished cheat ideal dreading twenty-six tri-angular apex streamed pane angle reflection examining confessed forgave neutral violated ethical regulations expulsion suggesting argument ruling obey flourish bother violating reporting stifle closely icily respect authority advises wedding flapped nor pointless cheating tolerated huffed regrets confess serve minimum assigning becoming theme slipping unnoticed what’d gloomy atmosphere desks thumbs-up siren song appreciation art nature clapping earsplittingly shrill whine whale nails chalkboard toddler uncover broadening horizons claiming repentant company brand torture ballroom belva’s sirens dances edwardian claimed valin ponytailed promenade dancers valin’s sweaty chime stars shined brighter spit wickedly slobbery octaves fanned hmm irritated flattered scored points empathy forked smirk ironing holes stack detained increased practicing leaps eyebrow empaths powerful mundane purification vein easiest transmutation lockers traded twenty-seven banging annoyingly caps disqualified chorus groans nonstop cap smurf amalgam telepathic integrity wrote essay betrayal over debate automatic 100 last-minute mentally repeating tips negative vibes stress ethic claim fame skipped skip supportive doubting brag mercifully stalled magenta berries rusty discipline chosen purify ruckleberries fifty-five nasty impurities elderly human’s alchemists methods dive knife pierced berry dribbled pinky haggard glacial quarters

deducted mediocre performance forth whirlwind crack exhausted brutal slamming slumped that’ll public hooks presents spine cards schools hassle babysitters edged obstacle tugging stressing rigid suitable gifts jewelry charms charm twenty-eight unrecognizable streamers shrub toilet-papered tinsel confetti bubbles prizes popping appointment teal-wrapped package uglier hurrying plowing regain literally prying trademark smirks spoken sapphire-encrusted navy-blue intently hairstyle contrasted pristine infamous deflated wilted father’s oily insincerity resigned flame cassius lord performing unremarkably radiated apologies fos er disappointing scores fake critical said: creeps prize-filled prattles dwarf lollipop topple snappy comeback comment loser fails organize overflowing half-empty month misunderstanding shushed slim parcel chiming signaled parent-mentor conferences celebration feast unwrap snatching self ‘dear dance sometime vice president boyfriend rattled reader tease ribbon tapped gadget fingernail speaker thingies coloring dunno disbelief variety edible glosses speckled spider snapper plant fed spiders riddler writes riddle miniature violet thanked showing misty seventy-nine improvement range sensing tomato congratulated comfort sobbing partying included sneer party note: f snap k sugarplums boy-craziness necklace cuffs wristbands vanisher platter customs gelled perfection gym ornate immaculate alvar talks often rumpling fizzleberry wine juggling girlfriends hero beamed piddly quicksnuff emissaries tend conspiracy possibility myself pieced undivided swan’s curve pattern term replied active recently unauthorized investigation frustration twenty-nine alternate spending smelling clues accomplish consumed trapped counting resumed vacation finals received eighty-one eighty-three unacceptable prepared chorused poufy thrown towel drooped oven roasted frosters transmitting charts transmitted peed suffered rested cryokinetics freeze manipulating pyrokinesis mesmers inflictors monitored pyrokinetics inflict fire’s unpredictable truly forbidding pyrokinetic library surely three’s librarian banned archives libraries bust problem: section dire wolves peek promising bins mountain littered haphazardly spaces scan unrolled flip papers helpful lacy dulled childhood: strung lanyards dolls framed bone picture: breathtaking tragedy drinking leftover junk trunks piles unopened bin disturbed murky midterm roll scroll shelf sample starlight moonglade: fireflies flickering stellarscope upside-down spyglass view’s billions wad tag amaranthis memorized fourth lambentine bag spout wider scope knobs cluster dials stiffened lever thumb clinked rubini orroro azulejo cobretola indigeen scratching spectrum rearranged indigo zelenie isolated this’ll bluff scrounging elementine adjusting fidgety hummed shining teared welts frantic thirty-one blackish-purple blisters pot burns sprinkled powder adventure soaking numbs balm miserably regulate temperature palace crown nicer handful roots mutilating blades destroying bashing stubbornness reappeared ointment knelt furrowed fingertip rags longest hottest soapiest griffins discreetly boring-looking firecatching bode bundle solid downright incoherently darkly quintessence fifth element myth truest conditions blow metallic-toned bronze wildly flamed audible unmapped locations merit thirty-two platform thrones remotely procedure involving throne cushions tourmaline sturdy polished dotted onyx heard: clarette velia terik liora emery ramira darek noland zarina flicked mere evacuated three-thousand-year task undisclosed location trial salivating convict straighter dozen marched stationed bodyguards swordlike weapons belts fanfare blasted crowned amateurs seated sapphires shall world’s ungraceful consuming detector fuzzy lying endlessly jell-o hobbled astin’s honesty assigned emery’s argento auriferria pennisi merkariron styggis achromian slower plotting map cowering submit lists convenient judgment frightening hardened remained expressionless mediates telepathically consensus united aspirin unanimous

rise violates actions intentional accountable foster’s involvement addressing agreement millionth wished exchanged dimpling kiddo thirty-three banks sienna bark paintbrushes purfoliage palmae calls pures filter pollution freshest crispest tinge fuzzed hesitation observant instruction lurched sunset farthest councillors’ steadied emerald-encrusted circlet bowed pleasing honor beg refuse descryer response delightfully potential clamoring backfired speaks beginning optional 327 sensed crane sweeping peacock log dream softly regularly useful one-armed fiancé’s projecting vividly replace album dinner’s stroke retracted apology hurting tricks arches replica model thirty-four planted curl plotted page difficulties rivaled protect quieted los angeles hollywood trash conspicuous spider-man batman posed mann’s chinese theatre blended beams issued ‘forgot’ oblivious ourselves stubborn softened unwillingly seeped ‘got of’ ant pavement explore warring hurried consequences captured pleaded mercy prentice’s behalf oversaw shatters society metaphor insurgents rebellion kindest whatever’s decisions encouragement revelations ability-detecting exercises cornered superbusy insistent significant elf-ish onetime played envy tracked master tracking switch spots conspiracies investigating headway ignorance ever: permanently jarred conservation legitimate scientific principle nagging elixir nogginease limbium mineral supposedly resisted bike wheels giddy week’s supply unnaturally syrup absorb nauseating unfastening vest skin’s collapsing allergy dimmed cradling thirty-five fluttered chafed sandpaper wildhaired soothed sensations spectators cleaned vomit upright moaned allergies wits bullhorn’s trite soiled airtight vomiting swollen blotch-free humiliated undershirt noticeably absent dazzling alvar’s raptor disgusting decade spare injected steroids tied budge scolded showers heels crisis ushered deathly tough disasters blankly rests brothy soup elsewhere shadowy comforting yawn snuggled thirty-six squealing hundreds eagle-size pterodactyl somersaulted screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech stability rein speed momentum gained screeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech torch pasture dispersed uncannily fried engulfed birdbath sparks jerking possess flareadon fire-resistant replay triggered animal’s cares octave higher killed resting flareadons volcanoes occur gildie strayed ‘flareadon female correcting wade debacle breaks wrestled socks shredded apparent vague emotion animals’ distances qualified lightened results defined iggy’s gildie’s paw tummy reward downy fury paled out-of-breath aura recoiling imperative vital violate risk humiliation fled her: cooperate freezing peered railing partial drifted bars errand thirty-seven mush nights begging blend processing forgetting tearing fluorescent locker: insider’s librarian’s timing shoe absolute librarians plastered sinking confirmed dog-ear chapter everblaze: unstoppable blind thirty-eight paper-strewn something’s ‘everblaze frissyn x stands detailed extinguish overruled excluded unheard indecision warred babies hatch extract unregistered code name: egg cast conventional purpose determine pregnant fertility posing implanted embryo manipulated outstanding retain discovering affects genetic anomaly renegades weapon ‘prodigy illegally forgiving messages suffocating choke word: controlled puppet issue triggers twilight proudly soothe facade crumble table: throaty fix drove wedge messenger delivering seal reseal rampaging limits chaise skimmed bead luminous nonluminous generated lumenite drilled clarify rip grubby paws riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiip chunk possession skittered treasure retrieving tattered assess rug glue document accordance canceled thirty-nine heartbeat scrubbing choked-back muffle misery acknowledge gaping owe regardless charade  obeying command churn yeti ricocheted ooooookaaaaaaay slinking acknowledging attempting library-appropriate slothlike triple-check echoing phew scrutiny shrug candleshade overhead clipping playlist jarring numbness bass mature speakers bands sarcastic tune swirled seeping cracks triumphed

tiptoed rustled creaked padding crawling lonely forgive forty cheer stricken envelope headline: claims victims scrawl announcement corridor stark-white gulps sneaking suggestions weigh resolve admirer flood applying replacement heal eased uncertainty brothers recent discoveries recording spy undetected textbook dreaded licensed pathfinders restriction threatens ‘everblaze’ accusation fintan pricked balefire fintan’s requires fuel supported cosmic ‘fire ignite conclusive example surveillance ruining depths former dealing approved overrule objection trusted phantom rebels snatched emissary citizen confidential duly noted digging forty-one partly imprisoned sorting reminders pity tension distant lately preparing prejudice megacrush cave commands successful method unwrapping names: connor kate natalie freeman apply permit huddled thinner echoes evacuee note’s unquenchable abandon supporter afar forty-two stashed drawers ‘you threaten chaperone global dumped significance supplied clothing resistant fly willful punish facets stagger hills screeched tying pried displays seals survival glinting corneas swoop thickest raspy coughs locate singeing shift current overcome coughing inferno ouch thrashing clouded watery beads capped treats paced treating scorched angrier contorted squatted pee severe scalding plunked sticky-sweet healthy grim balled-up yelling homes camped affairs mesmerized desperation launching steal dumping tenderness justified reacts offer unintelligible agreeing concerns forty-three relatively illness actress w-what admitting lifeless freaky dumber connections traitorous resisting grasp peace decency furball storm’s appropriate cliff reveling shard clatter soothing relishing pulverized smithereens boulder violent frightened irrational fallen possibly smothered meaty cloaked swooped sickeningly nostrils sedative cursed rallied scuffle scuttled captor circulation rasped viselike lolled rescued forty-four bonds staging unfortunate complication fog scrambling muddled funerals pendants vise sweetness blackness necessary loomed constricted heaving choking gruff hyperventilating suffocates coated hacking nods croaked relocate stolen grunt syllable drugs mist strapped bound shivers eerie breathy wheeze venom trail gumption predicament footfalls disposed disappearance guts throb ignorant cackle toy reserve widen contorting poison ple clarity struggle overwhelming happiness rocked jostling rescuer foggy occasionally elevator altitude delirium parted flimsy fumbling promises caress weary forty-five searing heightened awareness sensory overload barrage cigarette butts alley surveying hideout interrogation kidnappers scoured alexandre desperately operates anyone’s him: upcoming rounded apologized broom peeking roofs yards landmark eiffel gaped graceful paris france french indian saris currency exchange robbing bank machine atm watches account measures ‘make work’ cameras covering buttons alarm bills robbed technopath froster internet café sandwiches cheese once-living boxy computers navigated web browser googled number-one result pont iii bridge seine lanterns shopkeeper sped excitement decorations horizon lamp nexuses lasts mathematics applied dawn forty-six melder stun evening strolls cloaks leader obscurer bends distortion coil rope goons goon pathways underestimate wire enhanced wishful swirl severing rapid duck whizzed seizure dusted flailed gurgling blank forefinger crescent shaped jagged cowl stumble scarred heft frenzy hatred writhing strengthened pumping pulse heavyset figure’s hideouts options battering crushed nearing tug-of-war lessened allowing glorious drift fading surrendered mind’s imagination funeral weariness overtaking hazy snow labored conscious sparkle freedom sweep forty-seven brightness peaceful wove persisted appeal surge newfound pooled aches splintered clearer enveloped strawberry-blond-haired numbing sedated tingles luxuriating gulping wetness numb shhh sniffled recognizing propped girly seasons faltered proves meaningful floppy snickers emergencies conversations flirting scratch

blasts streaking injuries concentration’s cell half-drained gaunt fleeing canceling flitted nuzzling scratched there’d yawned lights forty-eight covers washed sandor goblin bodyguard inflictor paralysis semiconscious incapacitated dormant trauma latent polyglot languages advance interrogated sandor’s bunny seven-foot-tall buffed-out overtime blindfolded seared monitoring proved arrested custody awaiting deaths tragic innocence error motivate condemning madness reluctance single-handedly now’s crescent-shaped recalled epiphany overweight swells digest explains operative guarding subliminal advantage activate developed who’ll address database detectives arson reigned supreme wisest greater questioned decades measure influential amok globe rejected imprison devastated uprooted supporters initiative resign outspoken recruited activity satisfied handled poorly kidnapped prisoner resolved disposal stamped justice voiced revenge birthday birthdays indefinite spans thirteen-year-old crushes plots rebellions grown-ups understands teenager accepted bargain relented insisting uncertain responding arrange forty-nine pedestal charges bylaws sub-bylaws committed transgressions minor tortured regal express safely accused drafting addressed firmly murmurs debated arguments raging attitude disrespectful rebellious overlooked gratitude however static rulers experiences inappropriate assign ‘already served’ sang admission din bursting provisional basis due aforementioned cannot proceed suggestion issues seats smoothing occasion fancier signaling require records indicate provided remain appreciated despised gladly nicely dipped textbooks someday squash toughest earn deserves murderous successfully fingering justifiably displeasure smirking retake propose alternative state events revealed therefore practical prudent career prospects shifting internal logical volatile qualifies majority erupting directing registered cuddly earned oneon-one immediate tangle concluded gathered twirling nudging trades sidestepped congratulate surviving multiple tribunals swirls diamonds feminine unlatch decides woven triply journey

#kotlc

[desos-records]

the moments in the Lockwood and Co show that really break my heart are the ones where Lockwood’s armor cracks. god bless the actor, his expressions are so subtle but convey so much.

you see it a little when he’s asking Lucy if she’ll take the job (if she’ll stay), then a little with Kipps (telling Lucy not to stay), a bit when his charming words, a weapon as real as his rapier, fail completely on Barnes

but the first real break happens when Lucy’s possessed because he’s completely unprepared for this and it has nothing to do with the ghost and everything to do with how she’s touching his face and how she’s looking at him (like she loves him, like she means it when she says that). and worse, how she’s asking him not to hurt her (he’s afraid he will one day)

then again when Barnes tells Lockwood to fire Lucy (that he won’t be able to let her stay), probably because there’s no one to see his face. his mask shoots right back up as soon as he turns around. 

and again when Lucy threatens to quit

“we need you [I need you].” 

“why?” 

“because [it’s too soon to tell you this] because you’re [someone I already can’t stand the thought of losing] you’re Lucy Carlyle [and you make everything better]”

you see it a little after they blow up the well, but it looks more like a strange sort of relief than a break (Lucy and George are safe) and all he needs is a little grounding (holding Lucy’s hand). the real one happens when Fairfax calls his bluff and points a gun at him, not because of the gun, not really, but because his words can’t protect him (but Lucy can)

when he apologizes to Lucy for yelling at her (hiding how rattled he was by George’s comment about his feelings for her), his armor doesn’t break so much as he sets it down on purpose this time. he can’t stand the thought of hurting her and if he has to come out from behind his mask to make amends (if that’s what it takes for her to stay), he will

there are cracks all over his armor when Winkman threatens him (because his words mean nothing here), but it shatters when he threatens Lucy. he’s begging this man to kill him for the chance that Lucy lives. and oh, when Winkman says he’ll kill Lockwood first so he won’t have to watch her die (his words don’t just fail to protect him, they fail to protect her)

and you can see that part of him wants to set it down when Lucy asks him why he was so so quick to die for her, but he just managed to pull it back together and the wound is too raw. he understands that she’s angry with him (and he cannot stand that), but I’m not sure he understands why. because it doesn’t occur to him that she cares about him too (that she cannot stand the thought of losing him). all he can process right then is that Lucy’s alive and she’s angry with him, but at least she’s safe now

from the beginning he’s constantly trying to make sure she’s safe, but he’s more and more obvious about it. it isn’t George saying Lockwood’s in charge, not her, that gets him moving (he could barely sit still as it is), it’s the reminder that she’s in danger and he’s not there to make sure she’s safe. he was fully prepared to break down that basement door if it meant rescuing her. he grounds her the best way he knows how (the way his hand runs down her forearm before he holds her hand) and tells her

“we’ve got you now [I’m here].”

“you’re safe now, okay? you’re with us. [I’ll make sure you’re safe].”

there’s still more hairline fractures when he sees Lucy with Kipps, when he sees her with Fittes. which is why he gives her the necklace. the thought of her maybe choosing someone else sends him running to tell her how important she is to him (as clumsy as it is) and ask her to stay. it’s not as outright as before because it’s not just them, it’s everything he’s threatened by

“I can’t compete with this [with someone else for your favor]”

the worst of it, of course, is around the auction. before it starts, the DEPRAC agent sees right through him, giving Lockwood a painful reminder of his age (which he tries to act above) with one hand

and when he and Lucy are fighting, he pushes her away, would’ve charged in there alone, but she stays (it’s much too real now). she calls him out and his armor fails him, but he still can’t seem to process her point. he thinks just being around him (much less getting close to him) will hurt her. failing to understand that losing him would hurt her (and it is far too late to turn back)

and then after, when the DEPRAC agent dies and Lockwood is so quick to blame himself, it isn’t just a break. he loses all of it. his center is on full display, his fear and his bleeding heart. he can barely stand.

he still reaches out to Lucy to ground himself (because when he can’t protect himself, she does) and she’s so forceful with her feelings for him. she’s not gently touching his face, but holding his head and jarring him back to present (which is the real way Lucy loves). he can’t hold onto her properly or even look at her, but she’s the one who gives him back his armor. she presses their foreheads together and he takes a breath and he starts to build it back up

it’s ramshackle and unsteady, but it’s back by the time they step out of the car. it’s still nothing against Lucy. and he realizes here, as she’s walking away from him, what she’s been trying to tell him

so by the time he quietly steals into the kitchen, he’s left it behind again, because he’s learning that he doesn’t need it with Lucy (it’s hardly protection if it’s hurting her). this is his center too, the part full of love, and it’s no mistake that it happens in the kitchen, the center of their house. and he’s more honest than he’s ever been

“don’t give up on me.”

“the bottom of the thames used to be a far more appealing place to be.”

“and really no one would have cared.”

“but now... [now there’s you and you care and I won’t hurt something you care about].”

and of course it does come back during the final fight (it is a survival instinct after all) and when he’s collapsing, in pain, afraid (old habits don’t go away overnight). but Lucy and George push back before he goes too far

“this isn’t how you die.”

“how do you know?”

“we won’t let you.”

“never.”

he’s in a place where he can start healing (now that the wound’s been cleaned out), which is why he opens the door. because, yes, his armor is useful, but he doesn’t need it with George and Lucy

#thank you for coming to my tedtalk #lockwood and co #lockwood & co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #lockwood and lucy #locklyle #george karim #george cubbins #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co netflix #She speaks!

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Crosshair's Character in TBB: A Study

“Loyalty means everything to the clones,”- Anakin Skywalker

I wanted to start my study with this quote because it basically personifies who Crosshair is as a person. Over the course of three seasons (plus CW), there is no doubt that Crosshair is arguably the most well-written and developed member of the Bad Batch. His journey and inner conflict isn’t neatly wrapped up in a little box and tied with a cute bow in only one season. No, his journey spans the entire show. It is very compelling, filled with a deep inner conflict, broken relationships, and the struggle to find one’s self again. In this study, I wanted to look at the major themes of his character and how his relationship to them has changed. 

Loyalty

Crosshair’s strongest and best quality is loyalty. It is everything to him and it’s why he reacts so strongly when the Batch leaves him in “Aftermath.” However, misplaced loyalty is dangerous, especially when it’s blinding. The core struggle of his character, specifically in season 1 and 2, is discovering who is worth his loyalty. Crosshair isn’t the type of person to just save his own skin when things get bad; S3 disputes that multiple times. As rude and off-putting as he can be, Crosshair cares deeply for others. Unfortunately, it’s the choices he makes and where he invests his loyalty that conflict arises. 

The Worth of Loyalty

A part of understanding Crosshair is understanding how far he will go for those he’s loyal to. 

“Do you know why they put me in charge? It’s because I’m willing to do what needs to be done.”

This line is stone-cold, but remove the context and apply it to Crosshair in general. It speaks volumes. Crosshair isn’t driven by some moral compass like Echo or Omega are. He’s not loyal to some grand cause. He’s loyal to people who’ve earned his respect. He’s loyal to those who value his skills as a sniper. Crosshair will not hesitate to go to extreme lengths for others. He killed Tawi Ames because he is a soldier of the Empire. He dragged a half-dead Mayday back to base because Mayday saved his life and showed him compassion. He went back to Tantiss for Omega because she saved him and he loves her. Crosshair’s journey is about him discovering who is worth that kind of loyalty. Who is worth dragging someone through sheer hell even though the optimal solution would be to just leave them? As Crosshair learns, it’s not the Empire.

The question remains, who is worth his loyalty? The answer is simple: Omega, his brothers, and other kind people such as Mayday and Cody. But Crosshair’s loyalty is severely misguided at first. There are a multitude of reasons as to why. One of the most obvious reasons is due to his fractured relationship with his brothers. By the time the entire Batch reunites in “Return to Kamino,” Crosshair can’t help but voice his pain and anger.

“They don’t leave their own behind… most of the time.” “You weren’t loyal to me.”

Due to the chip, Crosshair doesn’t understand why they left him. Did years of loyalty from Crosshair mean nothing to them? Did their relationship as brothers mean nothing? At that point in the story, he hasn’t realized how damaging the Empire is to him. So, he turns his anger to the group of people who meant more to him than anything else in the entire galaxy. And his anger isn’t completely unjustified. He was deeply hurt and he didn’t know why. Unfortunately, his beliefs about the Empire and struggle with identity push the Batch away. But as Crosshair’s feelings were continually challenged by others and his environment, he started realizing just how deep of a hole he’d gotten himself into. Crosshair’s brand of loyalty is something the chip absolutely would take advantage of. It’s fixating and fierce, hard to break. Only something severe such as removal or damage can break it. 

In S3, we get an exchange between Rampart and Crosshair. Rampart comments that Crosshair used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair responds that it depends on who’s giving them. This statement is absolutely true. Rampart doubts that Crosshair has changed, but it is Rampart who hasn’t changed. Both were betrayed by the Empire, but only one recognized where he went wrong. Crosshair now understands that his deep and fierce loyalty belongs to those who won’t hurt him or others he cares about. Loyalty is reciprocal and not to be taken for granted. This is a sentiment he shares with Howzer.

“Loyalty meant something to me. But with the Empire it didn’t go both ways.”

But Rampart can’t understand that because he’s only loyal to himself. And when you’re only loyal to yourself, you don’t care who around you falls. 

The Empire: An Environment of Shame

Why doesn’t Crosshair see just how bad the Empire is? That’s an argument I see often, but I think it’s important to understand just how manipulative and demonizing the Empire really is. Crosshair deeply internalizes his identity as a soldier. His value comes from his skills and if he can’t do his job properly, he will be discarded. The Empire is an echo chamber of that insecurity. 

“There are other ways of producing loyal soldiers”- Rampart

Rampart, Tarkin, Nolan… the faces of many imperials who remind Crosshair of what happens if his loyalty falters. He will be discarded. All around him, Crosshair hears the imperials speak about replacing the clones. They speak about the value of loyalty. It pushes him to keep proving his loyalty to the Empire. Crosshair is a sensitive soul despite appearances and he internalizes what others say around him. 

“Not the ones that matter.”- Cross to Hunter about the Empire phasing out clones

If Crosshair can continue fulfilling his purpose, then he will be spared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. We see this in real life too. Social media can influence others by feeding into their egos, only to rip them apart should they step out of line. It’s the same scenario with Crosshair. Rampart mocks Cody’s absence and talks about clone loyalty not being what it was advertised. Crosshair tenses up at his words, clearly bothered, until Rampart asks if he has a problem and then dismisses the issue without a care. The Empire makes Crosshair feel so alone. But he’s a soldier, right? This is where he belongs, right?

Compare that environment to the one put forth by Omega and Mayday. Omega is warm and compassionate. She cares deeply for others, even when that person probably doesn’t deserve it. As Crosshair struggles, Omega remains nothing but encouraging. She believed in him from the very beginning. 

“You’re still more capable than most.”- Omega

Omega’s constant display of loyalty and affection towards him eventually wins Crosshair over. He finds himself in an environment where his fierce devotion is not only reciprocated but goes above and beyond. Mayday shows compassion to Crosshair even though he barely knows him. He also shares Crosshair’s unspoken frustration. The Empire didn’t care about the clones despite them being good soldiers who followed orders. When danger strikes, Mayday doesn’t hesitate to protect Crosshair. Once again, it’s this reciprocated loyalty that shows Crosshair the truth behind the curtain. The Empire is all take and no give. Omega and Mayday display the opposite; they give Crosshair their all and don’t expect him to grovel on his knees for their praise or friendship.

Identity

But loyalty is only one major aspect of his character. Crosshair’s willingness to stay with the Empire also stems from his struggle with his identity. Clones are taught to be loyal and the behavioral modification chip only reinforces that notion. For Crosshair, it’s not so easy to just throw away something he grew up his entire life hearing. Thus, he finds himself in conflict between his loyalty to his brothers, loyalty as a clone, and identity as a loyal soldier. It’s so heartbreaking to see him when the chip partially activates. The chip makes him so fixated on Order 66 and yet, he can’t help but still stay by his brothers’ side. It is only when the chip is enhanced that he attacks his brothers. 

The Soldier and the Clone

The moment they are born, the clones are raised to be soldiers. They have no say in their fates, only that they have one purpose in life. Crosshair is no ordinary clone though; he’s labeled as defective for looking and sounding different. However, he has exceptionally sharp vision. One of the first things established about the Bad Batch is that they use unorthodox methods and they’re very showy. They also have a 100% success rate. As a result, Crosshair views himself and his squad as “superior.” As a soldier in the Empire, he expects to get the same recognition. The Empire is fueled by individuals who love feeling powerful. For Crosshair, to get special treatment because he’s a “superior” clone definitely would feed his ego. Unfortunately, the Empire also will pull the plug on anyone at any time. On Kamino, being defective is a death sentence. But Crosshair’s enhancement makes him useful; it’s why he was kept around. Interestingly, the more isolated Crosshair became in his time with the Empire, the more he began to seek companionship with the regs. S2 sees Crosshair shed his views that he’s a “superior” clone. He slowly begins to accept the fact that he and the other clones aren’t actually that different. We see this change in many ways: he tries to sit with the regs, he enjoys going on a mission with Cody, and he quickly gets attached to Mayday. 

Crosshair’s journey of accepting himself as a clone and finding companionship with others outside his squad humbles him and makes him an overall kinder person. It is integral in how he becomes disillusioned with the Empire. The Empire makes him feel so alone. Look at his room in “The Solitary Clone;” it’s no better than his cell on Tantiss. “Nat-borns” don’t understand what it is like to be a clone and his squad isn’t there anymore, so Crosshair turns to “regs.” He starts realizing that their experiences under the Empire aren’t much different from his. It’s Mayday and the mission on Barton IV that really pushes him over the edge. Mayday, a reg, understands him more than he’d like to admit. He’s lonely and feels like his efforts aren’t enough. 

Crosshair has let the Empire mistreat and abuse him for months, but eventually he snaps. He can’t do this anymore. He’s a person. Mayday is a person. Has his and Maydy’s loyalty meant nothing? Has the loyalty of the clones in general meant nothing? 

A clone’s identity is intrinsically tied to being a soldier. Why did Crosshair stay with the Empire? A simple answer is it gave him a purpose. Crosshair deeply internalizes his role as both a sniper and a soldier. He can’t see himself in another role as it is all he has known. What will happen when that’s taken away from him? Crosshair struggles with that exact dilemma. As I said early, being defective and unable to fulfill being a soldier means decommissioning and being discarded. I’ll bet this is why Crosshair struggles breaking away from his soldier mindset. He was taught to be loyal and there is no place for him if he can’t fulfill his purpose. Let’s take a look at his role as a sniper. Crosshair’s role is to wait on the outskirts and observe for danger. He’s supposed to keep his team safe from afar and spot trouble before it strikes. He’s a protector. That role gets shaken when his tremor starts. What happens to Crosshair if he can’t shoot? What happens to his brothers? 

S3 introduces the arc of Crosshair learning to accept help from others and becoming more than a soldier. A sniper is supposed to be distant, a loner, and always on the lookout. Once that role is challenged, suddenly, Crosshair realizes he can’t do this alone. He initially tries via brushing it off or shaking his hand. But it’s not enough. Both Hunter and Omega grow concerned. Omega takes the initiative and gently encourages Crosshair to try meditation with her. Even if it doesn’t work, the fact that he tries already speaks volumes. Throughout the season, Crosshair tries multiple times to do things alone. However, Hunter declines that proposal and says they should work together. The most glaring example is the climax of "The Cavalry Has Arrived." Crosshair is missing his dominant hand, weakened from his injury, and on top of that, it’s pouring rain and Hemlock has handcuffed himself to Omega. It is only through the help of his siblings that Crosshair makes the shot. He did it with the support of his family. 

In relying on his family, Crosshair becomes more than a sniper. He becomes more than a soldier. Even if he had his hand, Crosshair still would’ve had to overcome the huge barrier of making a steady shot. Either way, Crosshair overcomes by accepting the love and help from his family. Looking back, I’m really glad that this was a part of his arc. Crosshair has spent so much of the show alone, having to rely on himself and his skill to survive. But as time passes, he learns that it’s ok to have help. As people, we’re not meant to carry all our burdens alone. Crosshair learns he doesn’t have to remain distant all the time to protect others; sometimes, our greatest strength comes from each other.

The Beauty of Self-Worth

“Omega, don’t risk anything for me. I belong in here.” (This line is one of the most heartbreaking lines in the entire show). “So, I’m doing this alone. It’s what I deserve.”

A smaller, but just as important arc, is Crosshair’s journey of forgiveness. By “Tipping Point,” Crosshair has largely tackled his inner conflict. He knows who deserves his loyalty and who doesn’t. He realizes that he isn’t so different from the other clones. However, the guilt from his actions still lingers. Although he gets his message out, everything else fails. Tech dies, Omega is captured, and he doesn’t know what happened to the others. Crosshair suffers for a long 5 months due to Hemlock’s conditioning. His days are filled with the same mundane (and painful) routine and there is no sign of hope… that is, except for Omega. No matter what happened in the past, Omega undying love for him never yields. 

“None of us belong in here.”- Omega 

Omega’s words are reassuring and they hit Crosshair in a way he doesn’t expect. How can he, who has done these terrible things and has been forgotten by the world, be worth kindness? For all the times he said/did something cruel to Omega, she still came back for him. It’s Omega’s compassion that helps push Crosshair to finding his own self-worth. She loves him when nothing seems to be working for him. She encourages him to talk to his brothers. Crosshair wants to be accepted and belong again with his brothers. But up until that point in the narrative, everything around him seems to tell him the opposite. 

As much as I would’ve liked more from Hunter, I’m still glad he and Crosshair are able to have a conversation. In “The Return,” Crosshair admits how wrong he was. To come to terms with the darker parts of one’s self is important in forgiveness and the courage to do so is immense. There are things in life we as people can all do better. It’s what makes us human. The last time Crosshair interacted with his brother, it devolved into anger and pain-fueled argument. Crosshair so desperately wanted his brothers back, but it had to be on his terms. As the brothers fight again, Hunter antagonizes him into getting answers. A quick “blink and you’ll miss it” moment is that Cross’ hand trembles when Hunter brings up betrayal. Crosshair initially clamps up before biting back, blaming Hunter for Omega’s capture. But as both brothers learn to realize, both of them need to do better. The past hurts immensely because of that broken bond. Now, they have the opportunity to mend it. 

“I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better and who knows? There just might be hope for us yet.”- Hunter

Like Omega, Hunter’s words offer reassurance and comfort. Can Crosshair, a person who hurt his family, be worth that forgiveness? Hunter’s words all but confirm that Crosshair is forgiven in his eyes. Crosshair’s struggle to find forgiveness and worth in himself is eased by the people who he cares for the most. Even something simple as a hug from Wrecker catches him off guard, but it’s something that tells him “you’re loved and wanted.” As the vulture leaves the outpost, Crosshair slowly learns to forgive himself for what happened. 

It all culminates in the hug he gets from Omega in “The Cavalry Has Arrived.” Crosshair believed he deserved to die in order to atone. After everything he’s done and been through, does he still deserve a happy ending when it’s all over? Omega’s hug says yes. Tantiss is the heart of his pain and agony. In another world, Crosshair would never have set foot there if he chose differently. Perhaps Omega wouldn’t have suffered there. Perhaps Tech would still be alive… Without any hesitation, Omega wraps her arms around Crosshair and he is shocked. She reaches over to pull Hunter in and Hunter wraps his other arm around Crosshair, holding him close. And without any words, Crosshair leans in and closes his eyes. As the trio begin to head back to the shuttle, it’s Crosshair who reaches out and places his stump on Omega’s shoulder. In doing something as simple as leaning into the embrace, Crosshair accepts the love he is given. He lets himself be loved and understands that he is worthy of that love. 

This isn’t the end of Crosshair’s journey, of course. Crosshair has a very long and difficult road ahead of him. No, his PTSD wasn’t stored in his hand. Cutting off his hand isn’t a magical “cure” for it. Crosshair still has to work through a lot and he will. The big difference is that he knows he doesn’t have to work through it alone. With the help of his family, Crosshair can continue that journey of healing he began in “Bad Territory.” He’s so loved because he’s Crosshair, a brother, a protector, with fierce loyalty that could never be truly broken. 

Anyways, we’ve reached the end of my character study. Thank you all for reading. Crosshair is a very complex character and one who faces many trials. But no matter how many times he falls, he always finds a way to pick himself back up. At the end, he makes it. Crosshair has learned a lot, but I’m grateful that TBB team chose a long and complex route for him. Because guess what? Healing and growing as a person isn’t a “one size fits all” scenario. It’s a messy and difficult process. When all is said and done, Crosshair has one of the best realized redemption arcs in all of Star Wars and I couldn’t be more thrilled with how it played out.

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb meta #tbb analysis #tbb omega #tbb hunter

[constantcrisis19]

Vow Renewal

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I changed the titles around because it seemed to fit better this way, so this is a new story in the married series. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,026

Main Page

You woke up to the sound of Ghost’s alarm, a groan of protest bubbling up and out of your mouth as you reluctantly rolled off of Ghost in order to blindly throw an arm out, smacking your hand against the buttons on the top of the alarm clock at random until the annoying beeping abruptly cut off. 

With the horrid noise silenced, you took the opportunity to unceremoniously face-plant into the nearest pillow with a low grumble of complaint since you had never been much of a morning person.

Ghost usually had far less trouble getting up at the ass crack of dawn, the bastard.

While you were more or less wallowing in your misery, Ghost’s bottomless brown eyes had half-opened when you’d moved away from him, the man looking just as exhausted and worn out as he had the day before. 

Although that was only to be expected considering that the two of you had finally arrived back at base late in the evening after a particularly stressful and dangerous mission that had taken a week and a half to successfully complete.

“I know, love.” Ghost mumbled groggily as he rolled over to look at you with creased brows, reaching out to gently but firmly lay a warm, calloused hand on your lower back as he shifted across the bed in order to lazily rub his cheek against your shoulder in a affectionate nuzzle that reminded you of something a cat would do.

“Ugh… I need no less than an entire pot of coffee before I even think about being functional today.” You grumbled, your voice muffled by the pillow that your face was buried in. It was a half-hearted attempt to smother yourself at best, but the notion of eternal slumber was starting to seem pretty damn tempting to your sleep-deprived self the longer that you laid there and stewed in your woe.

“Can’t understand you.” Ghost grunted, sounding a bit more awake but no less tired, and the gravel in his voice gave you the surge of motivation you needed to turn your head and squint at him from over your shoulder. Ghost was hovering above you like an omen of death, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes that were somehow still razor sharp despite how utterly fatigued he looked.

“Coffee.” You said simply because you figured that pretty much summed up your earlier statement, especially since your blunt bid for caffeine in the form of delicious coffee was punctuated by the fact that you could hardly keep your eyes open.

“Fine.” Ghost said with a heavy, long-suffering sigh that was normally only reserved for you and a certain energetic Scotsman before his hand slid off of your back and he sat up, stretching attractively with a low grunt of satisfaction when his spine cracked and popped in several places. 

He looked horribly stiff and achy, but he still threw the covers back in preparation to leave the bed since you had made the mistake of offhandedly mentioning that you could use a cup of coffee to help you find the energy to drag yourself into a modicum of order.

The fact of the matter was, in Ghost’s fractured mind, your needs and wants would always come before his own because his first priority in any and all given situations the two of you might find yourselves in was to make sure you were safe and that you wanted for nothing. Which was not exactly a stellar example of a healthy mindset, but you were working on teaching Ghost that he was allowed to let you take care of him too, which was an ongoing battle.

“Simon.” You called, your hand sliding over the bed to catch his wrist before he could get up, the man obediently pausing even though his thighs were tensed in an aborted attempt to stand and holding that position had to be hell on his sore muscles. He stiffly turned to look at you, his brows furrowed in a wordless question as his gaze searched your face.

“Don’t go.” You said quietly as you gently tugged on him, silently beckoning him closer, and Ghost seemed to soften at your plea for him to stay. He went along with your guiding touch easily, twisting around and dropping onto all fours in order to prowl over to you like some great beast. 

Ghost even laid down on his back without resistance when you directed him to do so, the man wrapping one of his arms around you and running his thumb across your shoulder absentmindedly after you bonelessly sprawled out on top of him.

“Better?” Ghost asked dryly, although there was an undeniable undercurrent of warmth in his otherwise bland tone.

“Yeah.” You mumbled as your eyes fluttered shut, tucking your face into the crook of his neck to breathe him in. His familiar and soothing scent of gunpowder, cardamom, strong English breakfast tea, and tobacco made you melt into him, as if you and Ghost could somehow fuse into a singular entity instead of remaining two halves of a whole, forever cursed to walk in separate bodies.

“You know, you make a great mattress.” You mused with the beginnings of a smile curling onto your lips, adjusting your head so you could prop your chin up on Ghost’s chest. “But you’re an even better pillow with these glorious man-titties of yours providing all this cushioning.” You snorted, planting a kiss that was equal parts playful and teasing in the valley between his pecs with a wolfish grin.

“You’re a fuckin’ slag.” Ghost muttered without any heat, the lackluster attempt to insult you completely ruined when the corner of his scarred lips quirked into a hint of a smile for a split second before his expression smoothed back into his typical stoic detachment.

“Don't try anything, I'm not in the mood.” Ghost added in a decidedly disinterested tone, though his hand moved from your shoulder to your back in order to start running his palm up and down the length of your spine in a repetitive motion that was so tender that you swore that your heart actually skipped a beat.

"You better make it up to me later then, seeing as I'm exercising self-control and all.” You said slyly as you braced your hands against the bed on either side of his torso, leaning forward to kiss Ghost with tongue. 

The wet and messy kiss drew a low sound of pleasure out of him as he responded by matching your enthusiasm and passion, his own tongue twisting and pushing against yours in a half-hearted battle for dominance.

And, when Ghost’s lips finally broke away from yours, his breathing was heavier. Although, he didn’t go all that far from you considering that your noses were still touching. His hooded gaze darted from your spit-slick mouth to your eyes a few times before he surged up to kiss you again like he just couldn’t help himself, though this particular snog came across as far less lewd and more worshipful.

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't." Ghost murmured with a barely there smirk when he eventually separated his mouth from yours for a second time, and it took you an embarrassingly long moment for your scrambled brain to make the connection between what he had just said to your earlier comment about getting intimate.

“You’re stone cold, Simon.” You lamented dramatically, flopping back down onto his chest with a huff. Ghost grunted when you landed, probably knocking the wind out of him with the sudden and unexpected addition of your full weight dropping onto him without warning. “Worst husband ever. I want a refund.” You muttered as you tucked your face back into the crook of his neck, mostly to hide your smile because you were trying to be miffed about his smug reply to your blatant flirting.

“Good luck returning me when there’s no receipt, love.” Ghost deadpanned, though there was a thread of amusement in his tone.

“My ring is my receipt.” You retorted without missing a beat, tilting your head to the side in order to brave a peek at him, fighting a smile when you witnessed the moment that his jaw clenched in a telling manner. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that he wasn’t happy about your casual remark.

“I won’t be responsible for what happens if you ever try to give that ring back to me.” Ghost’s voice was a low, guttural rumble that reverberated through his chest and directly into your body seeing as you were all but plastered to his front. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood on end in an instinctive response to the threatening sound, though you weren’t actually all that intimidated despite what your hindbrain had to say about hearing such a menacing sound so close to your person.

“Oh, how ominous.” You hummed, amused despite yourself because Ghost was such a possessive guard dog, circling you with raised hackles as he gnashed his teeth at anyone who showed so much as a modicum of sexual or romantic interest in you. “Reminds me of when you hacked a terrorist's limbs off because she took your ring and threatened to melt it down before pouring the molten metal down your throat.”

“No one touches my things.” Ghost said darkly, and the protective way that his hand traveled up your back in order to cup the nape of your neck while his other arm curled tightly around your waist indicated that he wasn’t just referring to his ring.

“Like a dog with a bone.” You chuckled with a hopelessly fond smile, trailing your knuckles over his thigh to soothe him.

“More than a dog, love.” Ghost spoke in a severe voice that would make you uneasy had it been anyone else using such an unsettling tone in your vicinity. “I’m a beast hiding in the shadows, waiting to tear apart anything that might threaten you. I’m the darkness to your light, the sentinel that watches your back, the strength that holds you up when you buckle. I’m a shapeshifter, I become whatever you need me to be.”

It was probably the most you had heard him say in one go for as long as you had known him, he was a man of few words after all. He only spoke when there was something constructive or important that needed to be said, when he felt that a devil’s advocate was needed.

But what he had just said to you was nothing but a blatant declaration of his love, of his unwavering devotion.

"Fucking hell, Simon. If I hadn't already married you, I'd get down on one knee right now." You said breathlessly, rearing up onto your arms in order to stare down at Ghost with wide eyes, one of your hands raising up off the bed to gently cup his cheek. You took pleasure in the way that Ghost’s unfairly blond lashes fluttered as he leaned into your touch like a man starved, openly basking in your warmth.

"Be my beast, be my darkness, be my sentinel, be my strength. But let me be the only one who can bring you to heel, let me be the light you need when the darkness you lurk in threatens to swallow you, let me be the voice that tells your demons to back the fuck off before I declare war. Let me be your safe place." You whispered, soft and reverent.

“Till death do us part.” Ghost stated with a steadfast conviction, spoken with such unwavering certainty that a lump of emotion formed in your throat. There were no words in your vocabulary that could possibly convey how not even death would keep you from him, how you would come back to him again and again in any and all lifetimes that you shared.

Fortunately, it seemed that you didn’t have to say anything at all because Ghost had heard it, he had heard all that you couldn’t manage to say and returned the sentiment in the form of leaning up to rest his forehead against yours.

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw 2022 #simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #married y/n #childhood friends #friends to lovers #domestic fluff #banter #ghost is hardcore whipped #there's nothing quite like a lazy morning in bed

[perfectsunlight]

𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 [𝟕]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲, 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗵𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘂𝗺𝗮, 𝗯𝗮𝗱 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝘆𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗰𝘀.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟯𝗸

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

ning yizhuo hated her childhood. 

she’d rather forget it, and her father, entirely. it’s his fault she ended up this way.

ningning didn’t want to remember the stack of bills on the kitchen table. or the way her shoes didn’t fit her anymore because her dad couldn’t afford a new pair that year. 

she never continued singing because she enjoyed it. it was because her father needed to make ends meet.

yizhuo remembers the argument that occurred when she told him she didn’t want to sing anymore. the image of her father's clenched fist smashing into the wall would forever be etched into her memory. the volatile energy in the room, the desperation in his voice as he tried to maintain control over the one thing that seemed to bring them any semblance of stability, it was all seared into her consciousness.

it was in that moment that she fully comprehended that her worth in his eyes was solely tied to what she could provide, not who she was as a person. 

one time she was sick. so sick that her voice failed her completely. her father's reaction was nothing short of callous. 

he dismissed her ailment with a cold indifference, viewing her only as a disappointment and a liability.

"i don't care how you're feeling. you're performing tomorrow night and that is final," he barked, his face contorted with avarice. the command held no concern for her well-being, only a demand for compliance to maintain his grip on their fragile stability.

she was well aware of how long it took to have food on the table. the days stretched into nights, and her father's exhaustion was etched into the lines on his face. she had witnessed firsthand the sacrifices he made, the countless jobs he bounced between just to keep a roof over their heads. 

ningning's memories were a tapestry woven with threads of struggle and poverty. she could vividly recall the arguments that reverberated through her home during those early years. the tension in the air was palpable, and even as a child, she knew that many of these disputes were centered around her. the weight of guilt weighed heavily on her small shoulders. 

she had unintentionally become the catalyst for conflicts that strained the fragile bonds of her family. 

yet, it wasn't her intention to be the cause of discord; she was merely a child caught in the crossfire of her parents' struggles. 

that’s why her mother left. she didn’t want to be a parent, or at least, not ning’s parent.

the day her mother walked out the door marked a turning point, a fracture in the foundation of her family. as much as she wanted to believe otherwise, ningning couldn't shake the notion that she was responsible for her mother's departure.

it seemed that her very presence had made everything more complicated, and had added another layer of difficulty to their already challenging situation. at least, that's what her dad said. 

those words echoed in her mind like a haunting refrain. her father's bitterness had a way of seeping into her consciousness, planting seeds of doubt and self-blame. 

she often wondered if her existence was truly that unwanted.

maybe that’s why she liked being on stage so much? because even though she wasn’t necessarily wanted, she was definitely needed.

sm needed ningning. 

when she arrived at sm entertainment, she was well aware of the things she brought to the table. years of introspection and growth had given her a deep understanding of her strengths. her voice carried a mix of vulnerability and power. her stage presence exuded confidence and resilience, qualities she had cultivated over time.

yizhuo had years of training over people who were older than she was. and it showed every moment she was on stage with anyone else.

but ningning didn’t need sm. or anyone else for that matter. 

and that included you. well, it was supposed to.

the smoke from her cigarette danced across the open air of her bedroom. the tendrils of gray swirled and twisted, forming an intricate ballet. she reclined on her bed, her back pressed against the mattress, while the rhythmic hum of the ceiling fan above her sent gentle waves of air caressing her skin.

the soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting a muted radiance that painted the room in a tapestry of shadows and highlights. it was supposed to be a moment of tranquility amidst the chaos of her life, a pause that allowed her to just exist.

but it was quiet, and yizhuo hated the quiet.

the stillness enveloped her like a suffocating shroud. in the hush of her bedroom, the weight of her thoughts grew heavier, the echoes of her past more pronounced. it was in the quiet moments that she found herself most vulnerable, unable to escape the demons that whispered doubts and insecurities into her ears.

the quiet was a stark contrast to the rhythm of her life, and it left her feeling exposed, a sensation she desperately sought to avoid.

yizhuo's fingers twitched with a restless energy as she stared at the ceiling, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts that she struggled to control. the demons of self-doubt, the memories of her past, they clawed at the edges of her consciousness. the quiet had a way of amplifying them, of making them impossible to ignore.

she had fought so hard to become the person she was, to distance herself from the pain of her childhood. the stage, the performances, the smiles—all of it had become a mask she wore to shield herself from the vulnerability that the quiet exposed. the applause had become her validation, the noise a buffer against the silence that threatened to drown her in her own thoughts.

without hesitation, she picked up her phone and dialed your number.

–

goosebumps danced across your skin as giselle’s nails drew patterns on your back. your head was pressed into her chest, relaxing against the idol and inhaling her scent. the afterglow with aeri was always like this; quiet.

it was never like this with ningning.

there was never any cuddling, no soft tracing of fingers, or shared moments of tranquility. with yizhuo, the air always crackled with a charged tension, an unspoken anticipation that left you both exhilarated and on edge. 

the passion between you two was undeniable, electric, and it sent shivers down your spine in an entirely different way.

but now, in the japanese girl’s arms, a sense of calm enveloped you. her touch was gentle and soothing, like a balm for the soul. 

the contrast between the two experiences was stark, almost like flipping a switch between two different worlds. 

with yizhuo, it was a rollercoaster ride of intensity and desire. every interaction was charged with a thrilling uncertainty, like standing on the edge of a precipice, ready to take a leap into the unknown. the air around you seemed to vibrate with the unspoken tension, and each encounter left you breathless and craving more.

in the rapper’s arms, the world seemed to slow down. the quiet rustling of leaves outside and the distant hum of the city were the only sounds that filled the moment you found yourselves in. her fingers continued their gentle dance on your skin, tracing patterns that felt like whispers of comfort and understanding.

as you nestled closer, feeling the rhythm of her heartbeat against your cheek, you couldn't help but think about the situation you had ended up in.

it wasn't a matter of one experience being better than the other; they were simply different sides of the same coin. 

“has yizhuo been smoking more?” giselle's voice broke the tender silence, causing you to lift your head slightly from where it rested against her chest. her question hung in the air, a gentle interruption that shifted the focus of your thoughts.

you met aeri's eyes, seeing a mix of curiosity and concern within them. it was a reminder that amidst the intimate moments and the complex emotions, there were also practical aspects of life to consider. you knew that yizhuo had always indulged in smoking, a habit that seemed to align with her intense and enigmatic persona. 

with a soft sigh, you nodded, acknowledging giselle's question. “yeah, she has been. i've noticed it too.” you couldn’t help but remember the first night you and the chinese girl spent together. it was a smoke session, and looking back on it, you can’t help but notice how often her smoking had been lately.

her fingers continued their gentle movement on your back as she let out a thoughtful hum. “she’s been through a lot.”

it was a perspective you hadn't fully considered—a reminder that each person had their own reasons for the choices they made. the world of fame and creativity was not without its challenges, and yizhuo's experiences might have driven her to seek solace in unconventional ways.

perhaps that's why she acted like that.

aeri’s gaze softened, and she leaned down to press a soft kiss against your forehead. her scent filled your senses and you could practically smell the cologne on her skin from how close you two were, even though at this point you smelled just like her.

“you know, i’m worried about her.” she said quietly, using her free hand to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. her words hung in the air, a mixture of caring and genuine concern. it was a reminder that these connections extended beyond just the sex.

at least with aeri they did. 

with a quiet sigh, you nodded, your thoughts drifting to ning’s recent encounters with you. “i think she needs help.”

giselle's fingers stilled for a moment, as if absorbing your words, and then she resumed her soothing motions. "we all have our ways of coping. she’s just doing what feels right to her.”

silence lingered in the air, carrying with it a sense of shared contemplation. unexpectedly, the soft hum of your phone interrupted the stillness. you glanced toward the source of the sound, seeing your phone screen light up with an incoming call from the mentioned girl of your conversation. 

it was no surprise, given the complexity of your interactions lately. you were used to it by now, honestly.

you exchanged a glance with giselle, a silent acknowledgment of the situation. without skipping another beat, you answered the call and brought the phone to your ear. 

“hey.”

ning’s voice came through from the other end of the line, her usual arrogance evident in her tone. “what are you doing right now?”

her fingers continued their gentle movements on your back, a silent presence that offered you comfort and support. you leaned back slightly, giving yourself a moment to gather your thoughts. 

“well–” “actually i don’t care what you’re doing.”

there was a brief pause on the other end after she interrupted you, as if she was carefully choosing her words. “are you busy later?” 

the question caught you off guard, and you exchanged a quick glance with giselle, who seemed just as surprised by the inquiry. it was a topic that hadn't come up between you two in a while, and you wondered about the context behind her question.

“um,” your eyes flickered to the rapper in bed with you. the two of you planned to hangout for the rest of the day since you’re free. “i am actually.”

ning's voice held a mixture of nonchalance, and you could practically hear the smirk playing on her lips.

“too bad.”

you cleared your throat, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the unexpected turn of events. "is there something you wanted?" 

ningning's chuckle held a hint of amusement, as if she found your curiosity endearing. “maybe. but you're busy, so i guess it'll have to wait.”

you exchanged a knowing look with giselle. it was no secret that ning had a knack for things like this. her cryptic responses were like breadcrumbs, leading you toward a destination only she knew. 

“i might have some time later," you said, a slight smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

-

the blinding lights of the club created a kaleidoscope of colors as you made your way through the sea of bodies. the air was thick with a mix of excitement and the heavy scent of smoke and alcohol. the pulsating beats of the music reverberated through your chest, a rhythm that seemed to synchronize with the collective energy of the crowd.

cigarette smoke hung in the air like an ethereal haze, tendrils curling upward and mingling with the vibrant beams of light. it was as if the very atmosphere was infused with a sense of liberation, an abandonment of inhibitions as people sought refuge in the intoxicating ambiance. the scent of the smoke intertwined with the sweet undertones of alcohol, a heady mixture that added to the sense of sensory overload.

strobe lights flickered, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the faces of strangers. the room was a sensory overload, a symphony of sights and sounds that encapsulated the essence of the night. people moved in a chaotic harmony, their bodies swaying and gyrating to the music, lost in their own worlds yet connected by the shared experience.

your eyes landed on the familiar figure of yizhuo. her body was pressed in between two different guys as she danced with them, moving to the rhythm with a fluidity that spoke of practiced confidence. the strobe lights played across her features, illuminating her expressions in fragments—a lustful glance here, a playful smirk there. 

she was infectious, drawing the attention of those around her like moths to a flame.

the music seemed to bend to her movements, becoming an extension of her dance. her laughter mingled with the beats, a carefree melody that filled the air. the guys on either side of her mirrored her enthusiasm, their hands grazing her hips and shoulders as they moved together. it was a scene of uninhibited revelry, where the boundaries of personal space blurred.

ning’s movements were a symphony of fluidity and controlled chaos. her body swayed, her hips dipped, and her arms reached for the heavens before cascading back down. she exuded a magnetic energy, an aura that drew people into her orbit. the two guys dancing with her seemed to be under her spell, their movements mirroring hers as they followed her lead.

every now and then, yizhuo's eyes met yours, a glint of recognition in the midst of the sensory overload. her smile widened as she caught your gaze, a knowing look that seemed to acknowledge the familiarity of the situation.

except, you wanted to test something tonight.

you wanted to see just how much you meant to ning yizhuo.

your eyes met hers once again, giving her a look that said you were going off somewhere else. she only sent you an arched eyebrow, as if to say she didn’t care what you were doing.

it hurt a little, but you wanted to push your luck tonight.

scanning the crow quickly, your eyes met a stranger’s in the crowd. she was tall, with an air of confidence that was hard to ignore. her gaze held a mix of intrigue and curiosity, and against the illuminated flickers of light, her blonde hair glowed like stars.

with a casual smile, you started to move away from the dance floor, away from the magnetic energy that yizhuo exuded. the stranger followed your lead, moving through the crowd with a purpose that was hard to miss. it was a bold move, and you knew that ningning definitely saw this playing out.

as you settled into a quieter corner of the club, the stranger joined you. the music was still audible, but the intensity of the dance floor had mellowed into the background. you turned to face the stranger, offering a friendly yet slightly mysterious smile.

“hey,”  you greeted, your voice carrying a hint of playfulness. “you’re really pretty.”

“not as pretty as you,” she replied, voice confident and tinged with curiosity. “what’s your name, sweetheart?”

she leaned against the wall, her body language relaxed as you both engaged in conversation. this beautiful stranger was engaging, and definitely had a knack for flirting.

and all the while, your gaze occasionally drifted back to the dance floor, to the spot where yizhuo continued to dance. she hadn't moved, her attention seemingly absorbed in the music and the dance. 

the arched eyebrow she had given you earlier played in your mind like a loop, a reminder that your actions were being observed.

as the conversation with the stranger continued, a part of you couldn't help but wonder what yizhuo was thinking. was she indifferent to your absence, as her arched eyebrow had suggested? or was there something more?

little did you know it was the latter.

from her position on the dancefloor, ningning could feel her blood boiling. the sight of you engaging with the stranger, sharing laughs and animated conversation, sparked a fire of jealousy within her. she had always been accustomed to being the center of attention, the one who drew people in effortlessly with her charisma and charm. to see you connecting with someone else, to see your focus on another, ignited a surge of emotions she wasn't prepared for.

as she continued to dance, her movements grew sharper, more intense. the music became a backdrop to her turbulent thoughts, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting feelings. 

her gaze remained locked on you, her eyes narrowing slightly as she observed the interaction from a distance. it wasn't just curiosity that drove her—it was a need to understand the depth of her own emotions, a need to decipher the feelings that had been stirring within her.

the stranger's laughter reached her ears, the connection with you evident even from afar. 

it was a blinding reminder that she clearly meant nothing to you. 

yizhuo's grip on her drink tightened, her knuckles white against the glass as her thoughts raced. the rapid thumping of her heart matched the rhythm of the music, a cacophony of emotions that she struggled to understand. the sight of you with the stranger, sharing laughter and conversation, cut deeper than she cared to admit.

she didn’t need anyone. she didn’t need you.

she kept reminding herself of that fact. over and over again.

amidst the thumping music and the swirling dance floor, ning’s emotions raged like a storm. she prided herself on her self-assuredness, her ability to navigate social situations effortlessly. but in this moment, she found herself grappling with a vulnerability she had been avoiding—a vulnerability that had been brought to the surface by the sight of you with someone else.

the enigmatic facade she often wore was cracking, revealing the complexity of her feelings. it was a realization that she couldn't ignore any longer, a reckoning with the truth that her connection with you was far from superficial. her gaze remained fixed on you, a mixture of frustration, confusion, and a hint of longing evident in her eyes.

but you wouldn’t have noticed it because your attention was elsewhere. 

and then ningning saw it. the stranger’s hand moving your hair behind your ear.

yizhuo saw red.

the world seemed to narrow to that single moment, a freeze-frame that captured a gesture of intimacy, innocuous yet loaded with implications. the sight was like a dagger to yizhuo's heart, a confirmation of the vulnerability she had been denying—the undeniable truth that her connection with you meant more than she had let herself believe.

her breath caught in her throat, her fingers curling into fists at her sides as a surge of anger coursed through her veins. the facade she had perfected, the armor she had worn for so long, shattered in that instant, leaving her exposed and raw.

her emotions were a tempest, a whirlwind of jealousy, frustration, and hurt. the thought that you were sharing a moment of intimacy with someone else pierced her heart like a blade. she had been pushing you away, keeping her true feelings hidden beneath layers of aloofness and casual banter. but now, faced with the reality of her emotions, she couldn't deny the truth any longer.

the stranger's touch on your hair was a catalyst for the flood of emotions that had been building within her. the chaos of the party seemed to intensify, the music a relentless beat that echoed the tumult within her heart. her vision became a blur, her surroundings fading into the background as her focus remained fixed on that singular moment.

without a second thought, yizhuo turned and kissed the man in front of her. her movements were purposeful, her expression a mixture of determination and anguish. the energy of the party became a channel for her fury, her dance more ferocious, more impassioned than ever before.

the man she kissed was taken aback at first, his surprise evident in the widening of his eyes. but soon, he responded to her fervor, his hands finding their way to her waist as he matched her intensity. the kiss was a chaotic dance of emotions, a melding of two souls caught in the maelstrom of the party's energy.

her grip on his shoulders tightened, her fingers digging into his skin as if seeking an anchor amidst the emotional whirlwind. the taste of his lips was both a distraction and a catharsis, a way for her to momentarily escape the intensity of her own feelings.

as the kiss deepened, the music continued to throb, providing the soundtrack to her impulsive encounter. the dance floor pulsed with life, the strobe lights casting sporadic flashes of light on their entwined forms. the idol’s emotions were etched on her face, a mixture of vulnerability and defiance that mirrored the internal struggle she was facing.

it wasn't just a kiss—it was a statement, a declaration of her desires and her frustrations. the stranger before her became a vessel for her conflicted emotions, a canvas on which she painted the turmoil of her heart. the kiss was both a means of escape and a way to confront the tangled mess of her feelings for you.

and as the kiss eventually ended, yizhuo pulled away, her chest heaving and her lips still tingling from the intensity of the moment. the man she had kissed looked dazed, a mix of surprise and satisfaction evident in his expression. yizhuo's gaze remained fixed on him for a moment, her thoughts a whirlwind of confusion and catharsis.

she knew he was looking at her like a piece of meat. you never looked at her like that. 

the sensation of his gaze on her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a mixture of discomfort and indignation. the kiss had been impulsive, a way to release her pent-up emotions, but now she felt exposed under his scrutiny. the man's intentions were clear, his interest far from genuine, and the realization that she had allowed herself to be used in this way only fueled her frustration. 

as the man's hand brushed her arm, yizhuo's resolve hardened. she couldn't let this continue—she couldn't let herself be objectified or treated as a mere diversion. it was supposed to be the other way around.

with a swift yet deliberate motion, she gently extricated herself from his grip, her expression a mix of disappointment and determination. she glanced around, her gaze landing on a random girl nearby. 

for a moment, ningning thought she was you.

without a second thought, yizhuo made her way toward the girl, her steps purposeful and her heart pounding in her chest. she couldn't let the narrative be dictated by the man's gaze, couldn't let herself be defined by his superficial interest. the stranger's kiss had been a reaction to the storm within her, but now she wanted to regain control, to assert her autonomy in the face of the chaos around her. 

as she approached the girl, yizhuo's movements were confident, her demeanor exuding a mix of charisma and allure. there was no hesitation in her actions, only a fierce determination to reclaim her agency. and when she reached the girl, she leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both bold and unapologetic. 

the girl's surprise was evident, but she quickly responded, her hands finding their way to yizhuo's waist as the kiss deepened. it was a spontaneous connection, a declaration of yizhuo's refusal to be vulnerable. this kiss and the last one were a statement.

as the kiss eventually ended, yizhuo pulled back, her chest rising and falling with the intensity of the moment. the girl she had kissed looked a mix of astonishment and intrigue, her eyes locked on yizhuo's with a mixture of curiosity. yizhuo's gaze remained steady, a mixture of defiance and arrogance shining in her eyes.

if only she knew you had seen all of it. 

it was an odd feeling in your chest. your gaze and attention were no longer on the stranger in front of you, but rather entirely on ning.

she was whispering something in the other girl’s ear, and from the looks of it, the other girl seemed to be very into it.

ning's actions were enigmatic, her whisper carrying an air of intimacy that left you curious and somewhat conflicted. her demeanor was a blend of charisma and allure, a demonstration of the magnetic chaos she exuded. 

the way the other girl responded, her eyes half-lidded and her lips curving into a hint of a smile, spoke volumes about the conversation that had taken place.

in that moment, you found yourself drawn into their interaction, as if you were an unwitting spectator to a scene that held layers of meaning beyond your comprehension. the party's energy seemed to dull around you, the music and the laughter fading into the background as you focused solely on yizhuo and the girl.

yizhuo's eyes met yours for a moment, and that’s when you saw her hand sliding up the skirt of the other girl. the smirk on her face, the glint in her eyes, and the way her arrogance was palpable all showed you one thing.

you had played with fire, and this was the burn.

the atmosphere around you seemed to tighten, the air charged with tension as you watched yizhuo's daring move. her actions were a clear challenge, a defiant assertion of her autonomy and a reminder that her desires were her own to explore. the girl's reaction, a mix of surprise and excitement, mirrored the magnetic energy that yizhuo exuded.

the scene played out like a tableau of contradictions—desire intertwined with defiance, vulnerability with arrogance. ning’s gaze remained locked on yours, her expression a mixture of challenge and invitation. 

it was as if she were daring you to try and beat her at her own game.

the music continued to reverberate around you, the beats serving as a backdrop to the unspoken narrative that was unfolding. your own emotions were a whirlwind of conflicting feelings—jealousy, discomfort, and a hint of regret. you had been caught up in the web of yizhuo's allure, and now the consequences of that allure were laid bare before you.

as yizhuo's hand lingered on the other girl's thigh, the intimacy of the moment a silent proclamation of her desires, you felt a mixture of emotions surge within you.

the burn of realization stung, a reminder that the connection you had shared with yizhuo wasn't simple.

like fire and gasoline, you two were a volatile combination—intense, consuming, and capable of both illumination and destruction.

you had ignited something within her, something that was both intoxicating and challenging.

“hey are you okay?” the blonde girl in front of you asked, her concern evident in her eyes as she noticed your gaze fixed on the scene playing out on the dance floor.

you tore your gaze away from the captivating spectacle before you, realizing that your own emotions had been laid bare in that moment. the concern in the girl's voice was a stark contrast to the turmoil within you, a reminder of the world outside the intricate dance of desires and emotions.

you took a deep breath, attempting to compose yourself as you met the girl's gaze. her genuine concern was both a comfort and a stark reminder of the reality beyond the intensity of the party.

“yeah, i'm okay,” you replied, your voice holding a touch of distraction. “just spaced out.”

she nodded, her understanding gaze lingering for a moment longer before she turned her attention back to the party around you. the music continued to throb, the atmosphere still thick with smoke and the scent of alcohol.

your gaze shifted back to where ning was, only to realize she was gone. and so was the girl.

and now it was your turn to see red.

the sound of your shallow breathing echoed in your ears as you beelined it straight towards the restrooms in the back of the club. 

the surge of emotions within you was overwhelming, a mixture of frustration, jealousy, and a hint of regret. the scene you had witnessed, coupled with your own complex feelings for ningning, had ignited a storm of turmoil within you.

the club's pulsating music continued to resonate through the walls, the bass reverberating in time with your racing heart. each step you took felt like a drumbeat of realization, a reminder that the connection you shared with ningning was far from simple.

nothing with yizhuo was simple.

as you pushed open the restroom door, you were met with the dim lighting and the sound of moaning. you realized that she had left the door unlocked on purpose. ning yizhuo wanted you to see what she was doing.

there on the sink was the other girl from earlier, with her legs wrapped around the idol’s neck. ning’s face was lost in between the thighs of the stranger. the sounds of wetness and the scent of arousal was thick in the confined walls of the bathroom. the stranger's moans and the way her fingers tangled in yizhuo’s hair were obvious indicators that both parties were enjoying themselves.

the scene before you was like a collision of emotions and desires, a testament to the audacity of ningning's actions and the intensity of her allure. it was a tableau of vulnerability and power, desire and recklessness. your own emotions were a maelstrom within you, a mixture of shock, jealousy, and a strange sense of something that you couldn't quite shake off.

the dim lighting cast a haze over the scene, each moan and whisper echoing in the confined space. it was a confrontation with the raw reality of ningning's desires, a bold assertion and a challenge to you.

you felt a mixture of emotions surge within you, the realization that you were privy to an intimate moment that was never meant for your eyes. the burn of jealousy was intensified by the image before you, and yet here was the idol you’d grown attached to, eating out a random girl who doesn’t even know her name.

for a moment, your gaze met the idol’s, and you saw a flicker of something in her eyes—a mixture of defiance and smugness danced behind her irises like flames. she didn’t need to say it, it was obvious.

she didn’t need you.

except it did quite the opposite.

you walked out. the sound of the door closing echoed off the wall, making the idol’s movements stop entirely. her ears began ringing while her heart pounded in her chest. and that's when she realized something she hadn’t considered until now.

you didn’t need her.

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq

#ningning #ning yizhuo #ningning x reader #aespa x reader #aespa #aespa fic #kpop fic #karina #winter #giselle #gxg #wlw #kpop #groupie love #perfectsunlight

[florallylly]

finally caved and posted bc i have the most delicious idea ...

those spiderman/deadpool crossovers for steddie but like also following mcu backstories bc i unforch have never read the comics OKAY . be patient with me please

eddie munson as deadpool and steve harrington as morena baccarin's character but set in high school. like maybe after breaking up with nancy and getting beat up by billy, steve goes looking for something to help with the pain (migraines? maybe bc he just got the shit kicked out of him a week ago and he has a hairline fracture from that dumb plate? you decide...). either way, everyone says that eddie munson deals at that picnic table behind the school.

somehow, the two of them end up together. i'm trying to decide between a fwb situation with mutual pining or a whirlwind romance established relationship, but it always ends with eddie munson being diagnosed with cancer.

now this follows the general plot from the deadpool movie with the experimentation/clinical trials for a miracle cure and eddie becomes a mutant (bc deadpool is part of the x-men universe right... i actually have no idea what the correct term for him is. he has powers basically). ALSO, opportunity for a horrible lack of communication. does steve know that eddie has cancer? does he just think that eddie disappeared in the middle of the night? what if he told eddie he loved him and that was when eddie made the decision to go through with the experimental treatment because if there was a possibility to live and stay with steve, he'd do anything to have that.

considering a steve harrington mourning the loss of eddie after he disappears/dies depending on if he's aware of the cancer diagnosis, and not applying for college at all or submitting lackluster applications. his parents don't understand his grief bc they don't know/care that he just lost someone he loved, and he ends up working at scoops with robin.

and robin is great, like platonic soulmates i'm going to spend the rest of my life with you great. she encourages him to get back up and apply to college with her (nyu? to be more canon to spiderman. it could also be indianapolis, but a city either way for a superhero who swings off buildings)

anyways, maybe a year or so passes but the time frame doesn't matter as much as the fact that steve harrington was bitten by a radioactive spider. and now he's spiderman and all of the whatnot that goes into fighting crime and secret identities.

this could also be somewhat canon compliant with stranger things in a steve "why does supernatural shit keep happening to me" harrington way. he got bitten in the russian bunker perhaps? i think it would make most sense for the upside down to be closed off completely after starcourt because hawkins isn't... doesn't make sense to me for deadpool and spiderman to exist in, but also like personal preference.

ugh anyways pls let me know thoughts bc i desperately need someone to talk to about this

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #robin buckley

[hutahuta]

IS THAT A PAVIA CONTENT I SEE SO Though on Pavia and his s/o who's very affectionate towards him especially learning his past so they decided to comforting him by holding him and always showering him with lots and lots of effection whenever they could kissing them random times Hugging ot nowhere and calling them pretty all time and calling them by sweet petnames that could melt them by just calling them that petname to the point that the other characters are just Soo done by display they have witnessed all the time

P.AGE OO.9 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

pavia x gn!reader — clingy fluff and affections // headcanons and semi-analysis.

merry christmas! here's your gift,, 💞💕💓

i don't know if I properly executed this ask this time but I hope you enjoy nonetheless. slight gore warning when describing his occupation,, but overall it's just wholesomeness !

In the silent corridors of his soul, there resides an ache, an insatiable longing woven into the fabric of his being.

Growing up in the shadow of neglect, Pavia found solace in the silent whispers of his own echoes, seeking affection in the empty spaces between gestures. The yearning for warmth, for a touch that speaks of understanding, lingers like an unfinished melody haunting the chambers of his heart.

Every glance cast his way echoes the yearning for connection, an unspoken plea for a kindred spirit to unravel the knots of his longing.

For Pavia, he navigates the world with a hunger for tenderness. His soul aching for the love he never received, yet resiliently holding onto the flickering hope that somewhere, somehow, affection will finally find its way into his world, stitching together the fragmented pieces of their fractured past.

In the tapestry of his existence, the absence of nurturing affection is a stark thread that runs through every experience. He learned to cloak his yearning in veils of self-reliance, crafting a facade of independence to shield the vulnerability within. The memories of hollow celebrations of his unaccompanied birthdays and silent nights echo within, shaping a hunger for connection that transcends the superficiality of mere companionship.. He yearns for more.

You changed him.

The moment you entered his life, colours blossomed. Art formed. You were a gallery full of surprises and you never ceased to amaze him every single time. Celebrations were held together. Whether it was formed between your mutual friends or by the two of you alone. Beneath it all, hid his tender affection for you.

In the dance of admiration, you yearned to express love to another who endured the neglect might tread delicately yet deliberately. You infuse your actions with tender mindfulness, understanding the delicate nuances that embody care and attention.

Whether it may be big as offering objects in your attempts to allow him to see you truly do care. Or whether you grab him gently by the shoulders and take away the newspaper clutched in his hands to pepper his soft face with endless kisses that will forever leave a lingering mark on his face, far more cherishing and better than the scars left on his mind from the abandonment due on his mind. .

Each touch, big or small, gives him a sweet impression of you in his head that he'll remember for a life time.

He melts. Literally, physically melts. He cannot contain himself from being so giddy inside when he had your body completely atop him, arms dangled across his shoulders just to put a bite on his bottom lip, pressured with the soft pecks you'd give on him as you see could almost hallucinate him to have his literal pupils dilated with the shape of a heart.

Catch him off guard when you walk by, biting his neck softly and applying soft nuzzles after.

The never ending joy you'd get when you aggressively pull him into a kiss, so deep and so red, it made it impossible for him to think coherent thoughts when he's with you. Or the weak moments where you're being gentle with him one minute, and the next second you feel the urge to literally bombard his face with soft bites and rough kisses.

He doesn't mind, it's hot, really.

Maybe it's assumed that his own pups give him rough kisses on the cheek and soft puppy licks like that too so maybe he's accustomed to that sort of thing, but it's so much more different and meaningful when you do it..

For someone who lacked much of the attention when they were young, it changes how they see the world as a whole.

God,, How could I describe how he feels when you shower him in the praise he always needed? Always wanted?

Always desired.

God,, he could marry you on the spot.

Pavia's heart swelled inexplicably, as if a symphony of emotions orchestrated an intricate dance within his chest. As if to say, if you were to stop now, he'd be dreadfully fucked over. Emotionally,, and physically.

He mentally marked down your name in everything. The hungry peck you gave him this morning? He's still thinking of it when he slits a knife down a man's neck.

The hickey you left on his neck from the afternoon he took a break off his job so the both of you can get away and have some moments peace together? he's thinking about snatching the rich necklace of a man he carved who planned to sell it to his wife.

Surely they didn't need such things right? It would look far better on your neck than hers any how.

Moments where Pavia would kiss you under dim light when he returns home are the best moments. It's either raining, his favourite weather pouring it down while he gets to be with his S/O to crave, cuddle and watch the static of the radio buzzing his favourite news report around.

You were sure he's been with a few people before, but none of them were you. None of them cared about him the way you do. — By the Gods themselves, this beautiful chaos, an overwhelming sensation surged, a tempest of emotions he struggled to contain.

Flusteredness enveloped Pavia like an unexpected gust of wind, leaving his speech tangled in a labyrinth of words. His cheeks, once the canvas of a tranquil dawn, now painted with the fervent hues of a scarlet sunset, betrayed the whirlwind of emotions brewing within.

“ I didn't know you cared about me so much. What do you want from me? " He'd murmur in a laugh, fingers entangled as you refused to stop kissing his lips. His whimpers, soft spoken and eager, he couldn't muster the courage to ask you to continue. But it came out in the form of his stuttering and genuine voice that grappled onto every lingering touch you glaze him with.

He trusts you won't leave his side permanently.

You may whisk away for a bit to have your own space but when you come back, just know a puppy-lover of a boyfriend awaits you to give him those tender kisses you spoil him rotten with. So don't forget how much of a big role you play in his life. Okay? <3

#reverse 1999 #pavia #pavia reverse 1999 #reverse #paviarev1999 #r99 pavia #pavia x reader #reverse 1999 pavia #pavia fluff #pavia reverse 1999 x reader #r1999 pavia #pavia affection #drabbles #headcanons #pavia headcanons

[nesta-is-my-queen]

A mini fanfic of what I wish Cassian would tell Nesta, post HOFAS bonus chapter.

***

Of all the things that could have happened Nesta did not expect a red-headed alien, with an eight-pointed star on her chest twin to the one stamped across her own heart, to completely change everything she knew about her world—about life itself. That there were other worlds out there, with powerful beings that walked between them, leaving a path of death and destruction in their wake.

She had never expected other planets full of fae, let alone humans, to be hunted and brutalized, to be turned into a source of food and entertainment for intergalactic parasites. It was for the sake of the humans that she handed over the mask. She couldn't bare the thought of them at the mercy of the Asteri, with nothing to defend themselves, so she made the choice to help the female who called herself Bryce, and loaned her what might just tip the scales in their favour.

And then Rhysand and Cassian found out. She didn't care that Rhysand was upset with her, for she could scarcely remember when the high lord was not. It was Cassian's reaction that ate at her. He was furious, even more than Rhysand was.

She remembered Ember's horrified expression when she quipped Rhysand might execute her for her alleged treason. Rhysand wouldn't, of course, if not for Feyre and Cassian. She supposed Ember didn't understand her particular brand of dark humour, and she'd had to promise her that she was safe, that there was no impending execution to be had. The silver lining to it all, however was watching Ember Quinlan, a human woman, hand Rhysand his own ass, something not even Amren had successfully done.

It had been days since she and Cassian spoke. Once again they were fighting. He was angry that she had done the unthinkable and given a trove item to a prisoner. And she was livid that he had taken Rhysand's side in all this. That Rhysand would have preferred her to kill Bryce before handing over the mask.

She had not been this enraged since she had been locked up in the House of Wind and carted off to the Illyrian mountains. She was not some simpering female to be ordered about. She understood the consequences of her actions and decided if the people of Midgard were not safe, then no one was safe. The threat of the Asteri would have eventually reared it's ugly head upon Prythian and enslaved them all. She had seen what one of them could do, in the prison, she couldn't imagine what a host of them might do if they got their hands on Bryce and ripped open a portal to their world.

When Bryce appeared she had no time to do much else but offer the mask, it was a fleeting moment, a wrinkle in time and space and then Bryce was hurtling back to her world, gone before she even had time to blink, the portal winking out with her, leaving her parents as collateral. Those days with Ember had been everything to Nesta. She was the mother she never had. Warm, loving, understanding—so unlike the one who birthed her.

During those days Ember and Randall were the only two she had the heart to interact with, other than Azriel. She and Cassian were not talking and it began to show. Ember was the one who brought it up. Said that it wasn't healthy for them to avoid eachother like this. She had Randall talk to Cassian about it as well. She supposed they were right, how many more days could she lock herself up in her room. How many more nights could she sleep alone?

That was when the knock came. And the house, the traitorous house, opened it's doors to reveal Cassian. She didn't want him to see her crying, to see her weakness. She sniffed back tears and seethed, "go away."

——

Cassian’s hazel eyes locked with Nesta’s, two endless pools of blue grey. Eyes he could get lost in, that could drown him in their depths. Something fractured in him as he watched a lone tear trickle down her cheek, escaping that carefully constructed mask she always wore.

Their bedroom was littered in piles of discarded books. Some half opened with cracked spines, shoved to the side ranging from smut to battle strategy. Steaming mugs of tea and trays laden with truffles and petit fours were scattered across the room. As if the house was desperate to comfort the female standing before him.

“I—I am so sorry.” He said. His voice low, cracking. It was not the only thing that cracked.

“That’s not enough.” She said, in the ghost of a whisper.

“Nesta…” Cassian said, his voice strained, as he lifted a hand towards her. She flinched, backing away.

“Please… just talk to me… tell me what to do…” he pleaded.

“I’m so tired of this. I’m so tired of everyone telling me I’m wrong, of having you—the one person—my person—doubt me," she said, swallowing deeply, as if there wasn't enough air in her lungs.

"How could you—?" she breathed, feigning her head to the side, as if trying to hide that thing inside that threatened to burst. Her eyes turned silver, not with flame, but with tears. Tears that would devour him and her. That would devour the world. Cassian would rather have been burned by that unholy fire he'd seen in her eyes. Would rather be turned to ash, a thousand times over, than see those tears falling from them.

As if sensing the onslaught, a soft, cotton napkin materialized in Nesta's hand.

“I know—I know.” He whispered as he watched red splotches spread across her face while she shuddered and heaved. The navy blue drapes unhooked themselves, sliding across the brass railing to cover the bay windows overlooking Velaris, as if to conceal the crying female from any potential onlookers flying by.

“You know what the worst part of it is—I don’t think you know what it is that you did wrong,” she faltered, wiping her tears on the cloth provided to her by the house.

“That you think I did not consider your soldiers, your brothers in arms, who might lose their lives if a war came here. I did consider it, I thought of everything. And all I could think of was about someone like my father, who wouldn’t stand a chance—"

"So I gave them a chance.” She choked out, ringing the cloth in her hands. "I gave them a chance," she repeated.

“And I took one too. But you—you couldn’t take one on me.” She faltered. As each word landed he felt those threads between them slacking. As if their very souls were unravelling.

Something inside of him felt like it was drowning, as if wave after wave were crashing down on that thing in his chest, beaten and battered. Threatening to drag him in the undertow of the storm he was facing.

“Let me make it right. Give me that chance I should have given you.” he pleaded.

“That’s not enough Cassian. It’s not enough and you know it. I refuse to be second when I put you first.” Something flickered in her eyes before quickly sputtering out. He promised himself then and there that he would never let that ember inside of her die out. That he would spend his life dedicated to kindling that fire. That he was a mere shadow that could only exist in the presence of her flame.

“I once told you I have no regrets in my life. Well I was wrong. I regret ever hurting you, ever causing you a moment of pain, ever doubting you. Not putting you first. Because I was afraid. Afraid of disappointing people. But you're the only person who matters. And I will spend whatever time I have left in this life showing you that, if you give me the chance. And if that’s not enough I will keep on trying. As long as you let me."

“Why now? What’s different? What’s changed?” Nesta narrowed her reddened eyes. “Aren’t you sick of being shackled to me?” She squared her shoulders, her eyes turning into two silver slits, giving him that "I will slay my enemies look" that nearly had him falling to his knees.

“The thought of living life without you is unbearable. Without you I am nothing. It's why I was so angry—I was thinking about you. Of losing you. It wasn't just about the last war. It was about what would happen in this one. All I could think of was you throwing your body on top of mine and nearly dying. And—." The words tumbled out of him, erratic and desperate.

"And what a world without you might look like. So I—I lost my mind." He said, his voice thick, eyes pleading.

"Nesta, being your mate is the greatest honour of my life. And I am sorry that I have ever made you feel otherwise."

The space between them waned, and the room somehow became smaller, as if the house was closing the distance between them.

Cassian slipped Nesta’s hand in his and slowly lifted it to that shattered place upon his chest. “You are my everything Nesta Archeron. You are my soul. My heart. My life.”

Clutching her hand to him, he lowered himself, until he was kneeling before her. She could feel his heart pounding, her own beating to the same chaotic tune, as if each pulse and each breath was taken together.

“I love you.” The words spilled out of him. “I have always loved you.”

Somehow he gripped her hand even tighter against his chest and she sunk her nails in. It felt as if she was holding his heart in her palm. Perhaps she truly was. And he just held her hand there, as she marked him. Five crescent shapes imprinted on him, dotted in red, from the base to the apex of his heart, her signature, her claiming.

“And I will always love you.” He breathed, his eyes wet, his face lifted up, meeting hers.

“I love you too.” She whispered, voice hoarse, as she grabbed at his chest, now pulling him towards her until there was no space left between them. Until their lips were crashing against one another, breathing the other in. And those golden threads began to weave themselves back together until they shone, forming an eight pointed star, a guiding light, their compass home.

"You're lucky that I believe in second chances." Nesta said, a slow smile breaking across her face like the sun peaking through the twilight sky. And it was all he needed before he met her smile with one of his own, before he pulled her down to him, until they were flush against eachother.

"I am lucky,” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot, mouth hungry, as he traced his lips along the curve of her neck, “the luckiest male alive.”

***

Second chapter is on AO3

#nesta acosf #nesta acotar #cassian #nesta x cassian #pro nesta #nesta #nesta archeron #nesta deserves better #nesta x reader #nesta supremacy #nessian #acotar #cc hofas #hofas spoilers #hofas bonus chapter #sarah j maas #fanfic #writing #sjm universe #sjm books #sjmaas #archeron sisters #batboys #illyrian #maasverse #sjm #sjm multiverse #sjm fandom #sjmass #nessianweek

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

HI!! okay so with the magical euphoria thingy i screamed into my pillow like twenty million times while reading AUDHSHXH /pOS YOUR WRITING IS AUAHDHAHX!!:?:!;!;:!, ANYWAY.

whumpee uses WAY too much magic in a fight. they’re completely giddy, out of it, and have just horrifically defeated something/someone.

looks around and notices that everyone is silent and terrified of what whumpee is capable of, because holy fuck. they did not need to go that far????

meanwhile whumpee thinks they were doing the right thing and, still incredibly excited from winning, runs over to caretaker!! and doesn’t understand why caretaker flinches away from them!! ^_^

sorry for the heinous grammar its like almost midnight rn :(((

(context)

I’m glad you liked my writing! I’m grinning like a fool rn.

And yes!!! Not every battle ends with Whumpee exhausted and ready to collapse. Sometimes they’re still sparking with energy, too deep into the high to realize they’re acting oddly, but not deep enough to be entirely gone. And honestly? For the people who care about them, for the people who are afraid of them, I think that state would be far, far worse. Awake but not quite aware. Unpredictable.

So like, hear me out.

The squadron is returning back to camp after a long day of missions. Their mage is still with them, in both senses of the word. They’re not fallen into total lunacy yet, still conscious and mobile. Whumpee’s bouncing on their toes, head swiveling on their shoulders like an excited puppy. They’re chatting excitedly, near incomprehensibly, at a soldier that made the mistake of getting too close. The soldier can only nod along to the stream of consciousness leaving Whumpee’s lips.

Caretaker is keeping a hold on Whumpee’s arm, making sure they don’t run off. They know Whumpee will be fine after a night’s rest.

It’s a rare moment of calm. They’re sore and exhausted, but the warm pride of a job well done leaves them feeling satisfied. The atmosphere is light as they trudge through the forest. Peaceful, all things considered.

But then Whumpee freezes, body stiffening all at once as something catches their attention. They turn, eyes focusing on something. A flash of enemy colors flicks in their vision–

Whumpee’s moving before Caretaker can react. Light bursts from their hands, illuminating the dark forest, and the squadron freezes on instinct. Whumpee’s attention, fractured and fleeting moments ago, has sharpened into a deadly edge to focus on a single figure.

Whumpee reaches out a single glowing hand, fingers curling as if grabbing something.

Flanked by two petrified guards, hands shackled behind his back, is a single enemy soldier taken as prisoner. His eyes widen as Whumpee’s attention focuses on him, the man’s bruised and exhausted face contorted in terror. His mouth is open in silent, terrified scream.

Just as Caretaker is reaching out to stop them, Whumpee reaches out with an open hand. Their fingers curl inward as if grabbing something. With a sharp movement their hand is pulled back, fingers clenched shut. The prisoner’s body lurches forward in response.

The crackle of energy cracks through the air, and suddenly something red and dripping and squirming is hovering mere feet from the man. He’s never laid eyes on it before, but the emptiness in his chest tells him exact

The human heart, still beating, falls to the forest floor. Its owner falls a moment later.

Silence follows. Fear and shock runs through the squadron, their minds struggling to comprehend what had just unfolded. Some freeze like a deer in the headlights, terrified that moving will bring Whumpee’s wrath. Others are inching their hands towards their belts, looking for a weapon. Others still are simply trembling from shock, suddenly and violently reminded of the danger in their midsts.

The terror that grips Caretaker is different. They’re afraid for Whumpee. Training kicking into overdrive, Caretaker’s eyes dart over the scene, calculating. Assessing the panic, assessing how long they have until fear turns into action.

They know they have to take control of the situation. Caretaker’s footsteps are firm as they approach Whumpee, exuding confidence they don’t feel, and praying it's enough to keep the situation from escalating.

Caretaker places a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder. Whumpee turns to face them, expression blank

“Whumpee,” Caretaker speaks with trained calmness, voice gentle yet firm. Their smile is a weak, trembling thing, doing little to mask their anxiety. The smile Whumpee gives in return is genuine and bright, oblivious. “We need him alive. We’re taking him in for questioning, remember?”

Whumpee doesn’t respond. Their eyes are more clouded than they were a moment before, their sanity strained even further by that display of power. For a long, breathless moment Whumpee simply stares, a vacant smile plastered over their face.

Caretaker keeps their expression calm, but the tension is suffocating them. All they can hear is the gurgling of a dying man.

And then the moment breaks. Whumpee blinks, and awareness flicks back into their eyes. A tittering giggle creeks out from between their teeth.

“Oh! Right, yes. We need that one alive, don’t we?” Whumpee laughs.

The clearing is still as Whumpee all but skips over to the twitching body. They grab the heart from where it dropped.The muscle is still pulsing weakly, spilling blood over Whumpee’s arms. They don’t seem to notice.

Whumpee calls their magic again, the organ vanishing in a flash. In that same instance, the prisoner’s eyes fly open, bloodless lips widening with a desperate gasp. His next inhale comes out as a sob. He curls inward, limbs close to his chest, as if desperate to keep his heart in its place.

Whumpee doesn’t even give the man a second glance. As their would-be victim sobs, broken and terrified, on the ground, Whumpee happily returns to Caretaker’s side. They reach their hand, now coated a deep red, expectantly towards Caretaker. Caretaker holds Whumpee’s hand with a trained smile, and tries not to flinch at the warm wetness.

Caretaker starts walking, not daring to look back. They know the terrified, hateful, dangerous looks they’ll see if they did.

Whumpee doesn’t notice the way Caretaker's grip tightens, or how they’re maneuvered to walk some distance away from the other soldiers.

The rest of the trip is done in silence.

#okay yeah this does deviate slightly from the ask but #close enough in my defense i got excited and ran a tad wild #Love unaware displays of horrifying power!! #Remeber that the person giggiling drunkenly in your party is more than capible of killing you at any moment <3 #magical whumpee #unaware whumper #whumpee turned whumper #delirious whumpee #out of it whumpee #an ask tag #whump #whumpee #caretaker #whumblr #my stuff

[spruzu]

Sonic and shadow dynamic in sonic prime

Yes, i am doing this rant now because it's been on my mind too much and i need to talk about it.

Look at them, silly guys ⬇

So we all know that Sonic and Shadow are always seen as rivals right? Off topic, but personally i hope in Sonic x Shadow Generations Sega changes that but we'll just have to wait and see. In Sonic prime, they are obviously shown off as rivals, starting off having a fight and Shadow being pissed of with Sonic through out pretty much all of the second season because he shattered the prism and broke reality but we also see that they do have to team up because of that. We get to the last episode of season 2 and the whole 'Nines betrayal' takes place. Shadow did have every right to be annoyed at Sonic and he does say ''Sonic, i told you Nine couldn't be trusted.'' Of course pulling the 'i told you so' line shows he's very much bothered about the situation they're in, but then he goes on to say ''Whatever he's up to, it's causing this world to fracture.'' in saying that, trying to make Sonic come to his senses of what's around him and to stop focusing on the situation he's put himself and Shadow in. He wants Sonic to stop his classic way of thinking about the present situation he's in and to start thinking about the reality around them. Shadow also knew his and Sonics lives were more important in that moment than the shards and he wanted Sonic to see that to. Then of course Sonic goes on to say ''I don't understand, why would he-'' but getting cut off by Shadow ''Pull yourself together! This mountain is decaying, and it's going to take us with it. We have to run.'' Then proceeding to take Sonic by the hand and dragging him out the mountain, unwillingly. Shadow doesn't care about the fact Sonic is upset that Nine took the shard, he cares about the fact his and Sonics lives are at higher risk.

Through out all of that part, it's shown that Shadow wants Sonic to be like him. To have a straight forward tactic, to think before he acts. This is clearly shown when they're escaping Ghost Hill. Shadow is saying out the plan he has in mind to Sonic to make sure that they BOTH make it out alive. Ahh teamwork...

He then again, has to pull Sonic out of spiralling down a 'my friends are gone and it's all my fault moment.' when Sonic sees his ghost friends. This time Shadows face is completely unamused. He see his tactic of trying to get Sonic to focus on safety didn't work. ''I thought we went over this.'' blatantly shows that. He tries stop Sonic getting any closer but Sonic just pushes him out the way. Then, when Sonics ghost friends start decaying, it's shown then that Sonic has FINALLY come to his senses and knows they need to get out and get safe.

Just in this episode it's shown that Sonic thinks on his feet, plans are a big no no for him and that's exactly what Shadow is the opposite of. Shadow is the guy who makes sure they're safe and are able to stay alive, yes he still thinks on his feet but not the way Sonic does. Shadow takes the lead in a lot of season 3 because of that.

I would go on and on for the whole entire season about this but i'm not, because i want to talk about the ending.

Ahh yes, the ending we all know and love. Sonic sacrifices himself and nearly dies in Shadows arms on the way back to Green Hill.

WE LITERALLY SEE SHADOWS EARS LOWER AND HIS FACE DROP. HE CARES ABOUT SONIC!!! That care is shown in tiny parts through the whole season, Shadow getting Sonic out of the Grim so Nine doesn't use sonic energy, helping in the battle blah blah blah. But this is hits the nail on the head. All the small build up of 'Oh Shadow's helping Sonic, that wasn't very expected' is finally used.

Shadow taking the lead in situations where Sonic could and probably would get himself killed is Shadow caring about Sonic... and himself. Yes of course Shadow cares about his own life and getting Green Hill back and is probably still pissed off at sonic through out all of this still but it's shown way less.

In a way, they're shown as team mates, the beginning of friends... who are mean to each other BUT WE MOVE PAST THAT.

I know their whole shmuck is that they're rivals and they hate each other but it's finally nice to see that they can work together like in the ending of SA2. I hope to see that again in Sonic x Shadow Generations and not just them fighting constantly because it gets boring. Also not to mention, Rouge is SEEN helping Team Sonic fight Eggman in Sonic Prime so, may i say Shadow is a bit left out there he should join in the fighting instead of brooding the little grump.

Anyways i think that's all i have to say, if i repeated myself my bad but i'm very good at that.

This is also not me shipping Sonic and Shadow. I don't mind people shipping them, i get why but i hate the people who are rlly weird about it...

ANYWAYS BYE

#sth #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #sonic prime #sth fandom #sonic fandom #sonic prime season 3 #sonic analysis #sonic prime analysis #dynamic #sonic and shadow #sa2 #sonic x shadow generations #shadow the ultimate lifeform #the ultimate lifeform

[imaginethezeldaverse]

Hello! I don't know if you write for the more obscure characters in Botw/Totk but I figured I'd ask just in case ☺️ Could you please write something about Tauro, Purah, Sidon and Zelda dating a Sheikah s/o who's chronically ill/disabled? It'd be great if you could make them specifically have weak bones and be really short too, and they're often upset how people keep babying them because they might fracture or break something. But if you want to keep it more open-ended that's fine too!

Thank you so so much, you're probably my favorite Zelda blog on Tumblr! Your writing and ideas are always like *chefs kiss* 😘! Have a good day and drink lots of water!

Whenever people tell me I'm their favorite anything it literally shocks me because there are SO many fantastic zelda fic blogs on here that I feel are vastly superior - but I thank you nonetheless! 🥰

I'll write for pretty much any character - I just keep romance and nsfw content for adults. So I'd be happy to!

Tauro, as well-mannered and good-natured he is, is amongst the mass where he needs to be reminded that while you are disabled, you aren't incapable of doing normal things. He tries his best to remember that, but his rambunctious and steadfast nature leads him to be righteous and helpful, even when it's not needed. Plus given his height, he always just assumes that people tend to need help to reach things in tall places if he's ever around. He does try his best to be sensitive to your needs and wants, however, tapping his hand to his chest when he catches himself doing too much. Instead, he makes an effort to remind himself to wait for you to ask him should you need anything. Very affectionate, otherwise - he enjoys making you smile and wrapping his big ol' bear arms around you (albeit, he's careful not to actually squeeze you too hard because he does NOT know his own strength) and is very attentive on the days that you specifically don't feel well and your body leaves you in a weaker state than normal.

Purah, being the research fanatic and accomplished scientist that she is, is already aware and well read on your illness. That, however, has never stopped her from being absolutely smitten with you. Where she is boisterous and outlandish, there is a careful resilience to you that she keeps close to her heart. She sees your frustration often with the townsfolk who treat you with unnecessary delicacy, and while she understands the "good-intent", she feels as you do: chronic illness should not beget differential treatment. When you express your frustrations, she's an open ear always. Purah is never one to explain why the people of your community act this way that leans in their favor, but rather why their attitudes should not portray you under a fragile light when you are anything but. She empathizes with you greatly, knowing exactly what it's like for your own people to treat you like you're something you're not (her experiences with de-aging left quite the mark), but she assures you that you've always got her on your side.

“I’ve never much like everyone else…and neither have you,” Purah muses, tapping her recorder in her hand. She lifts her glasses, her crimson eyes blazing in your direction with admiration and sincerity, “I guess that makes us a cut above the rest, now doesn’t it?”

Sidon is about as bubbly with you as you can imagine. That sharp smile completely alight when you're with him. His height difference compared to yours doesn't bother him considering he towers greatly over just about everyone he meets, so as long as you don’t care (which he secretly hopes you don’t!) then all is well. When he learns about your chronic illness, he’s at first admittedly worried, but he sees how much you value your independence and doesn’t push you to do less than anything you’re up for. Sidon, having learned his healing capabilities from Mipha, will actually offer to “bathe” with you whenever you’re not feeling especially strong, letting the softness of his magically imbued water immerse your body and take any pain or pressure off of your form for a while and bring you some ease. You don’t take him up on it often, half because you don’t feel it’s always necessary, and half because you don’t want to impose - though of course Sidon would refute you ever being an imposition upon him. He chooses his words very carefully, making sure to give you the impression that he’s willing to do whatever you need should you need something from him, but without overstepping and making you feel incapable.

“You’ll never be without, my darling,” Sidon whispers, taking your hand, those slit-pupiled eyes softening as he brushes back a lock of your silver-white hair, “But I will never claim to know you better than yourself.”

Zelda has always been a ball of curiosity, that’s one of the things you love about her. She has an awfully curious mind, so when you explain to her about your chronic illness for the first time, she of course asks you a lot of questions. You laugh thinking about back then, how she felt terrible for borderline prying into your life though she wanted to know everything about you at that time. You remember assuring her that it was fine, and it made you incredibly grateful that Impa had introduced you before she stepped down - it allowed you two to get close. The times that you’ve gone to town together, Zelda takes notice of how people tend to treat you akin to porcelain: delicate, fragile, some even giving off the impression that you’re a lost cause because of your Sheikah heritage. Combined with your stature (with Zelda herself being on the shorter side of an average Hylian’s height), it’s enough to infuriate you both. You two tend to bounce off of one another: shes sticks up for you when you feel like someone’s unnecessarily babying you, and you put your two cents in whenever someone is overly cautious and hovering due to her status, even after proving herself beyond capable. Ultimately she too understands your plight of people looking at you differently because of who are you or what they know about you. She recants the days when her father treated her as helpless and small, hyper focused on keeping her in line rather than letting her be her own person. She takes your hand, intertwining fingers with yours and lending you a genuine smile.

“But we are not weak. We are not frail or easily broken. I am not defined entirely by my title,” Zelda kisses the top of your hand before gently covering it with her other in an endearing move, “And you are not defined by your illness.”

#Sorry this took so long! #Also sorry I didn’t give Tauro dialogue - I need to study his character a little more! #I hope I did okay! It always strikes me sourly when people are seen as their illnesses and disabilities before they’re seen as a person #I wanted to articulate that for sure #legend of zelda #legend of zelda: tears of the kingdom #loz: totk #tears of the kingdom #tauro #tauro x reader #purah #purah x reader #sidon #sidon x reader #zelda #zelda x reader #disabled reader #chronically ill reader #totk fanfic #tears of the kingdom fanfiction #totk headcanons

[witheredoffherwitch]

Alicent tries to stop Aemond even after B&C sorry but he is right. Rhaenyra gaslighted Alicent in Driftmark and didn't care about her feelings, she killed her husband to marry Daemon to their knowledge so Alicent is just delulu.

Hey nonnie,

It doesn't matter to me if you like/dislike either Alicent or Aemond. What bothers me is how people are acting surprised by the "sudden development" in the trailer.

I'm not blaming Aemond here; he certainly deserves a good ass-whooping, but it's completely understandable why he would be frustrated with Alicent here. From his perspective, he's once again being overlooked in favor of his older sister - and this time by a mother who has always stood by him and defended him when he needed her most. To him, her hesitation may seem like an ultimate betrayal. However, Aemond doesn't have the same history with his sister that Alicent does, and he wasn't present when the lords of the Seven Kingdoms swore their oaths to Rhaenyra as Viserys declared her his heir. He's always known his family to be a fractured mess and has been preparing for a war ever since the tragedy that took his eye.

Now coming to Alicent's point here: she isn't betraying either of her sons, and even the makers and actors have confirmed it time and again that both Alicent and Rhaenyra will stand by their respective sides while understanding that further escalation will only lead to more pain and death for both sides. Rhaenyra's closing line in the trailer is a clear admission of this: "War is coming and neither of us may win." In the show, Rhaenyra isn't just fighting for her claim but also to fulfill Aegon's prophecy. However from Alicent's viewpoint, she is fulfilling her king's dying wish and isn't driven purely by ambition. Understanding these motivations is crucial in comprehending where each character is coming from.

Now looking towards the future of the story, Aemond and Alicent's conflict in season 2 is just a stepping stone to their eventual divide in later seasons. Remember how we all spent so much time speculating why the son never returned to his mother after Rhaenyra took King's Landing? Well, this may be the reason why. Ultimately, this story is a tragedy, and this relationship between the mother and her son is one of the most intricate and complex dynamics we may get to see in season 2. In many ways, both Alicent and Aemond are quite similar: duty-bound and fiercely loyal, yet both have deep-seated mistrust due to their pasts. And yet, their loyalty for each other is discarded as an older Alicent understands the true cost of war and can see what is coming from a mile away, while a younger militant Aemond is determined to seek revenge for the long-awaited justice he was once denied.

That's all!

#inbox asks #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #alicent hightower #hotd season 2 #hotd fandom #house of the dragon

[mollymauk-teafleak]

Angel seeing Husk hold the twins for the first time!!

You honestly give me the best prompts, thank you so much <3

I also posted this over on Ao3, all comments are appreciated!

tw: male presenting pregnancy

------

Angel Dust opened his eyes and immediately felt like he’d been hit by a truck. Not a new sensation for him, exactly, but it still sucked.

He probably wouldn’t even qualify as awake by any definition of the word, head full of fog, his vision blurred, but his pain receptors were sure on duty. He knew the deep ache in his muscles, so fierce that he was actually trembling slightly, the rawness in his throat from crying out, louder and louder to the point where it became a pain all its own. He knew where that sickly feeling in his stomach was coming from, exhaustion only skimmed by not enough sleep to do anything more than expose more raw edges. 

Angel was awake enough to feel the pain but not awake enough to remember where or when he was, every other time he’d woken up feeling so broken crowding his mind at once. What did I say to Father? What the fuck did I take last night? How long did I last on the wagon this time? How did I piss off Valentino this bad? 

Already his eyes began to burn and acid rose in his throat, certain that whatever the reason was, it was only going to bring more pain with it.

“Angel?”

The voice was rough, raspy, almost as exhausted as Angel felt, but it broke through his rising panic like the sun through clouds. He swam towards it through his fractured scraps of thought, relief blunting the edges of his pain, just the thought that whatever he’d taken, whatever had been done to him, whatever bad decisions recent and ancient had landed him in this sorry state, Husk was here. Husk would forgive him, Husk would kiss it better, Husk would help him remember that things could be good. Husk was here.

“Easy, baby, easy, I got you…” Angel felt an arm slide around his shoulders, holding him up when his muscles seized painfully as he tried to rise.

Angel made a rough noise that was really several curse words trying to tumble out of his mouth at once, groping for and finding Husk’s hand. Something about that action sparked a memory, more recent, the kind he could follow back to the here and now. He practically felt indentations pressed into Husk’s palm, fitting his grasp exactly. 

He felt strangely unbalanced as the other demon helped him lean against the pillows, as upright as he was going to manage in this state. His body didn’t just hurt, it felt wrong for some reason, like he was a puzzle piece with a gap right in the middle. 

Like they were trying to fill that space, words he didn’t understand yet rose in his throat. He didn’t know why he asked but the words burned a little, like he’d never cared about anything so much in his life.

“Where are they?”

He could see Husk now, he got to watch the expression on his face become pure adoration. Suddenly he didn’t look so tired, he seemed to brighten from the inside out, like the answer itself was something glowing and golden. 

“They’re right here, baby. Safe and sound, thanks to you.”

It was like slipping into a dream and having your brain suddenly decide it was falling, tumbling you right back out again. Dizzying freefall, sudden impact, instant relief so strong it was almost painful. That's how it felt when Husk’s words brought all of Angel’s memories flooding back. 

It was because he’d said it back then too, last night, though it felt like years ago. It didn’t even feel correct to say it happened last night, to pin the moment so firmly in time when there had been no such thing. It had just been a sea of hurt and fear that threatened to swallow Angel completely but moments of love had jutted up like rocks from that raging surf, giving him something to swim towards, a way to keep going, five seconds to catch his breath. This one had come right at the end, just when the storm had spat him out and left him broken on some shore he didn’t recognise. Those same words, they’re here, safe and sound, thanks to you. 

Angel remembered what happened. They had happened. 

He recognised his bedroom now but it was the one difference that drew his eye, the bassinet sat next to the bed. He was pulled towards it by a force almost magnetic, his pounding heart only slowing down when he saw them there, pressed up against the soft divider between them like they were trying to reach each other. One little girl, one little boy. Two goddamn miracles. 

“See?” Husk rubbed small circles on Angel’s bare shoulder, “They’re sleeping. Have been for hours now, you’d think they did all the work today.”

Angel’s initial panic fell away, leaving a kind of exhausted joy to well up in its place. The little newborns were still strangers to him, he hadn’t quite memorized their faces yet, but knowing they were there, close by and safe, filled that place inside him. 

“Must be exhausting being that adorable,” Angel murmured, his voice a rasping wheeze like there was a leak in his engine. 

“Well you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Husk purred so hard it would be difficult to hear his voice if he wasn’t nuzzling Angel as he spoke, the words pressed right against his skin. 

“Shut up, I look like shit,” Angel scoffed, though he was suddenly grinning. 

“Not to me, baby…”

Husk had a way of saying things like that, a way that made it impossible to not believe him, even when Angel could feel the bags under his red rimmed eyes, his hair stiff with dried sweat, his still rounded stomach and stiff, awkward movements as he tried to remember how to pilot his own body. But Husk said it with a showman’s conviction, reminding Angel of the moment he really did honestly believe that he’d pulled that card from thin air or that coin from behind his ear. 

So Angel just tucked away those words, that smile Husk had given him, adding it to the long list of ways his husband had brought him through the last nine months when it would have been impossible without him, “Well. I feel like shit, even if I’m real good at hiding it.”

“No wonder,” Husk murmured, running his fingers gently down Angel’s spine, “You pulled off a goddamn miracle, baby. Feel like I should be on my knees worshiping you or something.”

“Maybe after I've recovered, huh?” Angel smirked, finally pulling his eyes off his babies and looking up at Husk, frowning a little, “Shit, Husky, have you slept at all?”

The guilty look the cat demon struggled to wipe off his face gave Angel all the answers he needed, “I mean…I’m okay, I was just spectating…”

“Bullshit,” Angel reached up, stroking back Husk’s whiskers, all bent out of shape from where he’d fussed with them, “You did a hell of a lot more than that. Charlie told us both to get rest, dumbass, need me to set her on you?”

Husk’s ears went back a little. Their princess had shown just how forceful she could be when she was making sure Angel stuck to the list of pregnancy do’s and don’ts. Sure, those recommendations had come from books smuggled from the mortal realm that were probably out of date and, even if they weren’t, had never meant to apply to spider demons. But Charlie had gotten to be a very scary nurse. 

“I know, I know…” Husk’s eyes moved over to their two little bundles of blanket and dark fur, their four ears twitching in sleep, “I just…I can’t take my eyes off them, y’know? They’re so small and so perfect and…and I just need to protect them.”

More of the last night was coming back to Angel, as he cataloged the aches and pains that accompanied each moment. He remembered the first time he’d held Bella, the little girl and the first one to make her appearance, and the rush of emotions that had struck him, Joy, yes, enough that it outpaced any high he’d ever had, but fear too. 

She’d been so small and delicate in his hands, all wet fur and high, keening cries and eyes she couldn’t open yet. As she’d laid on Angel’s chest and curled into him, somehow seeing him as safety and comfort, he’d realized how fragile she really was, now someone didn’t have to go through Angel to hurt her. He’d known then, with a heavy certainty, that if anything happened to her, it would break him beyond repair. 

And then Howie, their son, had been born not breathing. It was like life was making sure he’d taken the hint, forcing Angel to live through those sickening minutes of silence and know that these fragile little things were part of him and without them, the whole thing would come down. Of course it had only been moments, thanks to a quick intervention from Charlie and Lucifer, but it was enough. Angel had survived so much, even kept on surviving after it had killed him, even when he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep going. But he wouldn’t survive losing them. 

“I know how you feel,” was all he could say, groping for Husk’s hand again and holding on tight. 

“It’s crazy, right?” Husk’s laugh was weak, a thin coating over a sob, “I keep thinking someone’s going to come in and take you and them away. Because an asshole like me was never meant to catch a break this lucky, someone two floors up filled out a form wrong and I got this life I never deserved. So I keep my eyes on them so…so I can remember how happy I felt when it’s gone.”

“Husk…” Angel scrambled to promise that he wasn’t going anywhere, that nothing in heaven or hell or anything in between was going to be able to take them away, to do something about the deep chasm of hurt he heard in his love’s voice. 

But before he could even try, one of the swaddled lumps in the bassinet stirred, an eye opening for the very first time, a tiny golden coin dropped into their hands. It was Howie, wrapped in the little green blanket, now looking about ninety percent mouth as he cracked an enormous yawn, showing rows of tiny needle teeth. For a brief moment, Angel’s exhausted brain was glad he’d gotten rid of his tits a while back, these spiky little spiderlings would be strictly bottle fed. 

“Oh,” Husk sounded more than a little relieved at the interruption of their new reality, moving towards the bassinet, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll…”

Both his voice and his hands seemed to run out of steam in the same moment, stalling into nothing, like they knew what came next but something wouldn’t resolve. Like he’d reached the end of a chain around his neck, no more slack to pull on, 

Howie blinked his gold and black eyes, pulling towards his daddy as much as he could while wrapped in a blanket and with no idea how to pilot his own limbs. When Husk didn’t get any closer, his sooty little form shuddered, breath hitching, gearing up towards a piercing cry. 

“Husk…” Angel murmured, feeling like he wanted to cry himself, “Have you not held them yet?”

He knew the answer, he could remember now. It was Lucifer who’d caught them both, Charlie who’d held Bella while they’d waited for her brother, Angel himself who’d cradled them after that and wondered if this was why he’d been given two sets of arms. But Husk had just held him, surrounding their little family with his wings, giving them their own safe little world. Protecting, watching, adoring but leaving that distance. 

Angel knew that fear reflected in Husk’s eyes, the same one he’d tasted when Lucifer handed him this tiny, terrified and terrifying ball of wet fur that now represented the possibility he’d carried inside himself for nine months. 

The words came hard, like they scraped his throat raw on the way out, “I…I don’t know how. Every time I think about trying, I just see myself hurting them…”

Angel’s eyes followed Husk’s, to his long white fingers and the sharp points they ended in. Things that looked like they were made to kill, to threaten penniless rubes into one more hand that would take the last penny in their pocket, to grip a bottle of cheap whiskey. The two of them must be quite the sight, Angel thought. They sure as fuck didn’t look like parents, people fit to guard two miracles. They looked like exactly what they were, a porn star junkie and a washed up huckster, out of their depth and lost before they’d even really begun. 

But they were parents. Neither of them had asked for this but Angel had chosen to see it through, Husk had chosen to stay by his side. And more than that, he’d carried him through so many of the roughest parts. Now it was time for Angel to repay the favor. 

“Well, let’s figure it out together then?”

It felt like such a small thing, easing forward and resting his hand on Husk’s shoulder, a handful of words. But the look his husband gave him was everything. 

It did take a bit of maneuvering, Husk pressing the points of his talons down under Howie and cradling him within them but they managed, Angel’s hands hovering gently underneath. Immediately their son’s unhappy squeaking turned into delighted purring, curling in against Husk’s chest the second he was close enough. A tiny tail thrashed so joyfully it was in danger of tangling in the blanket, a tiny set of wings beat, four limbs grasped hold of Husk’s fur and clung tightly, like this was all he’d been waiting for. 

Husk’s expression said the same thing, tears already spilling down his narrow cheeks, “Damn…”

“See?” Angel’s voice was thick with his own tears, his smile so wide it hurt in the best way. He held Bella, who’d refused to be left out, stirring as soon as her brother was lifted up, “We just had to find our own way of doing it.”

“That’s the way it’s gonna be, huh?” Husk chuckled softly, thumb stroking the top of Howie’s head, “Figuring shit out as we go, hoping we can put out the fires we start?”

“Worked for us so fair, ain’t it?” Angel shrugged, grinning crookedly, “One foot in front of the other, try not to fuck it up and when we do…well, we just try and do better next time. Redemption and all that shit.”

Husk looked between Howie in his own arms and Bella in Angel’s, his voice softening, “I don’t know…all the good things in my afterlife have happened to me down here. If someone offered me redemption right now, I’d tell them to go fuck themselves. Nothing they got up there is better than this.”

Angel leaned in close until his head was resting against Husk’s shoulder, his free hand snaking around to rest over the paw that supported Howie’s back, wanting to be touching all of his family. 

“No…no, they sure as hell don’t,” he murmured, “And we do deserve this. I know it doesn’t feel like it but we really do. These kids, they’re not a reward or punishment or anyone else’s call. They were our decision. So we deserve this and we need to fight for it like we do.”

He felt Husk’s lips brush the top of his head, pressing a firm kiss there, “You got it, baby. Together?”

Angel grinned entwining their fingers, “Together.”

#huskerdust #huskerdust parent au #hazbin hotel #angel dust #husk #hazbin angel dust #hazbin husk #please reblog and comment!

[elysian-writing]

thoughts abt canon bartylus?

okay so. this ended up being a lot longer than i expected so i'll keep it mostly under the cut aksjnd i could talk a lot more about how i personally see them in canon and their actual dynamic but that's another conversations so here's the bare bones of their canon relationship ( in my opinon )

canon bartylus are honestly so special to me. i definitely don't think it would be a 'healthy' relationship persay but it's definitely more than a simple word can explain. like. i don't think any of them would label it, especially as the war begans to play more of a role in their lives, and their relationship starts to feel a lot more desperate. it's like-- holding on to something that has always been constant, so much that if you let go you don't know how you'll live without it, or whether you can live without it. they definitely wouldn't be making each other better, or even healing them in a way. it would be very much a 'i don't care how bad you get, i will still be here, i will always be here' type of thing. especially on barty's side. to me, canon-wise i feel like barty would've been able to join voldemort / joined voldemort because of regulus. he doesn't actually care all that much about blood-purity, but it's both in spite of his father and because of regulus. however, somewhere along the line, it starts to blur between whether he's doing this for regulus or for himself. regulus, on the other hand, i see as a lot more delusional. he's rather brutal, even more brutal, in a way, and watches as barty descends into something he can't return from in a very apathetic way. he sees the cracks and the fractures but refuses to aknowledge them. i do think he cared about blood purity, but as time passed on, everything would've started to feel a lot more futile as time passed on and nothing seemed to change. honestly i think the further they went into the war, the wider the rift between them would've grown. not in a way where they don't know each other, or their feelings become less intense, but in the way where they're in it too deep and the further they go, the worse it gets, but there's nothing they can do about it. the two of them know each other in a way that is so integral to who they are. it's not always about understanding but just about knowing and seeing and still being accepting regardless of anything. however, i think they would lie to each other a lot. not because it actually works, but because they both want to hold on to what they have for as long as they can, knowing that one day one or both of them are going to have to let go. in the end, it's regulus. ( i have so many thoughts on what changes his mind / motivates him to do it but that's for a later time ) he knows he's going to die. he enters the cave regardless. barty, in a way, knows what's going to happen because they can never truly hide anything from each other, but by that point they are both so cracked in a way that he refuses to truly see it. he hears the news and something inside of him breaks so completely that he knows he'll never be able to repair it. and he's completely fine with that. barty always knew that if it hadn't been for regulus, he would've turned into something to be afraid of so much sooner. i think it's around this point that barty truly stops caring about much of anything. he knows he wants to survive, he knows he wants to serve voldemort-- because if he doesn't have one constant, he's going to be left adrift, but he doesn't really feel anymore.

#bartylus #regulus black #barty crouch jr #my thoughts