#because if you grieve you stop and when you stop you die

[y-rhywbeth2]

General attitude of the Dead Three towards their followers that I've observed in the Time of Troubles and sometimes other sources. Bhaal seems to like his followers the most; Myrkul would love you more if you were a zombie; and Bane:

Bhaal: Can be attentive to his followers, apparently. Bhaal loves his clique of murderous fanatics (or at least he loves their murders) and they may "personally warrant [his] attention", multiple times, if he's particularly in awe of their skill at murder. Seems to take it badly when people who aren't him kill his followers - and he's willing to resurrect his favourites if they die while in his favour. But that's hard to gauge if he takes it that badly because that "numbness", fear, then rage response seen in the novels was also in reaction to almost all of his followers getting massacred (although this being pre-3.5e, his power was not dependent on the amount of worshippers he had at this time, so it wasn't as big a deal, more of an inconvenience).

Myrkul: Seems to hate the living more than Bhaal does. He thinks you'd be much cooler if you were undead. Or - memorably - an horrific, mindless, body-stealing soul-eating abomination. Tendency to eat his follower's souls or inflict horrific withering curses on them as a show of "favour". He happily supports the dreams of his undead followers though! Still, he advises his living worshippers to take protective measures and has to look out for them, because otherwise he's rapidly going to have zero followers because he's insanely unlikable. Funny, but unlikable.

Bane: Plays favourites. Bane's interactions in the Time of Troubles were a little skewed, due to having mortal emotions at the time, but the fundamentals stay the same: Most of humanity is beneath his notice, but he does crave the attention of those few he values who may receive leniencies and such. He also refuses to acknowledge that he values them emotionally, and he will still treat them terribly and says there's still a good chance he'll leave them for dead if it's more convenient. Still, even as a god he made the decision to elevate Fzoul to demigodhood when he died instead of just tossing him aside, so some of that remains?

While this is more of an insight into the mortal who predates the God of Tyranny, imo, he has an interesting response to grief, progressing from shock to murdering people around him in a blind rage, to this:

"I will not grieve, the god decided coolly. Blackthorne was merely a human. A pawn. His loss is regrettable, but he can be replaced. Then Bane thought of his endless talks with Blackthorne. He remembered the strange emotions that coursed through him when he had realized that Blackthorne had saved him, and aided in his recovery. The Black Lord looked at his hands and noticed he was trembling. Then the God of Strife screamed a cry of grief, loud and long. All over Bane’s Dark Temple, people covered their ears and shivered at the sound of the Black Lord’s pain."

Then more murder time, so we can stop having disgusting emotions and channel it all into hate on the battlefield:

"A fire crackled in the eyes of the Black Lord and Fzoul stepped back from the angry god. Then Bane’s lips curled back in a frightful grimace. There was fire behind the God of Strife’s pointed teeth, too, as his eyes narrowed and he said, “Now.” "

#babbling #the idiot three #I feel like “the trainwreck three” would've been a better tag in hindsight. ah well. #do I tag this with their chosen? idk

[backgroundagent3]

for the character ask, daisy johnson!

Thank you so much for the ask! 💜 I love any excuse to talk about Daisy Johnson.

First impression: I'm trying to squeeze my brain here, but all I remember was trying not to like her at first because I knew se was a double agent for the Rising Tide. It goes without saying I failed miserably about three episodes in.

Impression now: She is my favourite character of all time.

Favorite moment: I really can't choose, but one that comes to mind was the final fight of season 5. I think it's a very underrated fight scene, because it's the end of the world, her dad is dying, she has been recently betrayed and tortured by her friend, and she still goes into battle BY HERSELF against Talbot, and if that wasn't bad enough, when she's about to die a horrible death she realises that the only way she can save the world is if she takes the serum and basically condemns the person she loves most to his death. It's so heartbreaking and poetic, but very cool to watch, and I just love so much it, idk.

Idea for a story: This is angsty but I would love to read something where the events of 5.14 are properly dealt with. May watches the security cameras and goes ballistic on Fitz, and Daisy gets time to grieve and heal. They get Coulson back and he's horrified, and Jemma is so conflicted but she's there for her best friend.

Unpopular opinion: Since apparently I can't stop thinking about season 5, here's some more. I think she actually did a good job of leading the team in season 5b. Especially if you consider that she's been recently tortured, her family doesn't seem to care, she has no experience, and hasn't gotten a good nights sleep in about 5 years. She might be tough, but hello? IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD?? You have to be at least a little bossy if you wanna make it through that. Also if you're gonna be a baby and call her a hard ass maybe you should have thought twice before joining SHIELD.

Favorite relationship: If it's romantic, then Sousa. I love them so so much, they're literally perfect and despite my obvious outrage at season 5, I will forever love the AoS writers for somehow pulling that off. As for platonic relationships, I'd say May. She's the perfect mother figure for her, and I love the parallels between them. I think Daisy has the best relationships in general, but this one is my favourite. Honourable mentions go to Coulson for being the most unhinged dad ever, and to Jemma for being the sweetest friend in the earlier seasons.

Favorite headcanon: before she goes off to space at the end of season 7, she rebuilds Afterlife with the help of Sousa and Kora. I've said this before, but I think they are actually the perfect team to do this. Kora has lived in Afterlife her whole life, she's seen Jiaying help people go through Terrigenesis, and she's been though it herself in a much healthier and safer environment than Daisy. Sousa is reasonable and calm, which are good qualities to have when you're helping someone who's terrified and potentially dangerous. He has experience leading people, which I think would make him a good mentor for the Inhumans. So Kora has the experience, Sousa has the qualities, and in my opinion, Daisy has a nice combination of the two. She has a different and much more horrifying experience of Terrigenesis that people who accidentally go though it can relate to, and she has spent years exploring and controlling her powers, so she knows what the deal is. And she's also a good leader, so where Sousa can help the Inhumans pre-Terrigenesis, she can train them after if that's what they want. Because that's another thing, SHIELD may be funding Afterlife, but they've learnt their lesson and they're not sticking their noses where they shouldn't. They accept new recruits and help train them, but if that's not what the Inhumans want, then SHIELD helps them get settled back into their normal lives. Anyways this got long but it's one of my favourite headcanons, so there you go.

Thank you so much for the ask! Sorry for rambling, but I have a lot to say about Daisy. 🌼💛

Character Asks.

#ask away #character asks #agents of shield #aos #daisy johnson #skye #quake #glenn talbot #melinda may #the cavalry #leopold fitz #phillip coulson #jemma simmons #deke shaw #daniel sousa #dousy #kora #jiaying #brekker-by-brekkerr #background agent 3

[u5an5]

Theory: The Clone X was not Cody like some people think or even Fives (I know he's been dead for a very long time but so was Boba Fett and look where we are. Plus, Echo was supposed to be certainly dead too; making him Winter Soldier-esque storyline wouldn't be that surprising) or not even Slick.

((Also, now that we've seen his face devoid of any tattoos or scars I think first two takes are definitely not applicable anymore; they wouldn't put that much effort to make him unrecognizable))

Back to the point: In my opinion, The Clone X was none other than...

Fox.

Now let me explain.

Who else, other than X, was loyal to the law and justice dictated by it over any moral or ethic code?

Fox.

Who else was portrayed with such single-minded focus on hunting down traitors of the government he served, regardless of what it was?

Fox.

Who else could know not only Coruscant so well but also identify Rex like they knew each other?

He already was a remarkably successful tracker of traitors, why not make him more efficient by pointing them out for him?

Good soldiers follow orders, after all.

#clone assassin #commander fox #star wars tbb #i know that hes got killed really early after Order in comics but i would honestly prefer him to die this way #the bad batch spoilers #commander cody #arc trooper fives #tcw slick #cc 1010 #star wars #sw tbb #sw the bad batch #the bad batch season 3 #tbb theory #we dont even know for sure how he looks like cause in one moment we see corries without helmets all of them have standard paintjob #idk if its just animation error but because of it we cant be 100% sure fox ever regreted it without him being shown grieving with rest #hes just taking a breath when fives is dying and personaly i see it more as him rolling his eyes that rex is being mushy with traitor #but there are 3 clones behind fox when hes shown and then the one taking off his helmet stands beside 2 others so it may actualy be it??? #and if he DOES regret it imo is more in 'shame i had to do it' rather than 'shame i did it' way if you know what i mean #hes just doing his job and hes GOOD at it. not his fault that him being competent is bad for the good guys #my point is: outside of one page incomic that can be at any point made noncanon or recontextualized theres no evidence that it cant be him #they already retconed more important things. why not this? #i think its likely that in case im right we can assume that all named corries were made into CloneX #none of them appeared yet despite how much of action happens on coruscant #and only thorn died on screen; in a way preventing him from being viable option nonetheless #three hits point blank months before Order seem unlikely but theyve done weirder things so him returning wouldnt be THAT weird so uhh idk #but yeah cx-02 is tech #winter soldiering doesnt stop #i mean THIS could be fox/other corrie but it being tech is way too cliche oportunity to waste it on them (derogatory towards disney) #pls disney let corries hunt down traitors like they used to pls

[capricornsicle]

"I'm going to tell you a story. Maybe it will sound familiar." Visionary x Insatiable x Status Asthmaticus x The Wolves of War

#this is really a show about coming of age in a vicious and unfamiliar world more than a show about werewolves #think about it. scott is sixteen and to him losing his first love is as incomprehensible and unfathomable as the supernatural. #and we're constantly reminded of how being sixteen and in love goes -- 'you're not in love you're sixteen and a child' etc. #these three characters make for such a good parallel to one another in how they werewolf + seeking guidance #especially + sudden change of worldview/stakes when confronted with sudden and unexpected loss and grieving #of course derek loses paige and becomes cold and jaded (see: literally becomes cold w/ blue eyes) #scott loses allison and commits harder to saving all of his friends even though one of them (or someone possessing him) killed her #liam is stopped from killing because of hayden's death #here are three werewolves who were sixteen and held their first love's dead body in their arms #and each of them took a different path. do you close yourself off? refuse to? do you change completely because of it? #and ofc it's teen wolf so everything always comes in threes #I have a lot of issues with the writing but the use of death (barring 6b) is not one of them. they really went hard on meaningful death. #also consider: lori holding brett's hand so he doesn't die alone and theo responding to tracy kissing him by killing her as she does #teen wolf writers went is anyone going to bastardize the original narrative to ponder new ideas about it and didn't wait for an answer #also women's deaths are always about love/for a man (thanks hollywood) but goddamn if they don't kill their women wisely #and the thing is they are all running. they're running from death and what does it get them? it gets them here. #derek wants to turn paige so she'll live forever. scott wants allison to live happily even with someone else. liam wants to save hayden. #none of them consider that cheating death will catch up to them until they run right into its arms #and all three die because of getting involved with the supernatural. all of them would presumably not have died otherwise. #coming of age into a world that takes and hurts and destroys and where you are now old enough for people around you to die. #this is not a show about werewolves. #teen wolf #twedit #teenwolfedit #my edit #derek hale #paige krasikeva #scott mccall #allison argent #liam dunbar

[faerievampling]

The Life of Astarion's Dark Consort

Summary: These are my random head canons about Ascended Astarion and his vampiric bride, Tav/Durge. What would it be like to actually spend eternity with him?

Warning: 18+, mention of sex.

After the ascension, Astarion is so overwhelmed with all his new abilities that he is a bit distant. (Think Lazslo Cravensworth in that one episode of WWDITS where he barely speaks for two weeks all because he’s trying to make a decision about how he is going to reorganize the library) This lasts for nearly a decade, but once Astarion adjusts to his new body, he is able to come back to himself.

Once you are Astarion’s spawn (bride), he no longer needs to mask when lovemaking. He knows you will never leave him. Your lovemaking goes through many 'phases', from being loving and tender to beastly and rough. But either way, he is raw with you, and only you.

Every night, without fail, your vampire curls up in your arms, holding you tightly as he drifts off into a dreamless sleep or reverie. He can’t fall asleep without being in your arms, or vice versa. 

You, his most prized treasure, are far too vulnerable during your rest, and he insists on being as close to you as possible, with a dagger close by, of course. Over the years, he never relents. If you two are ever apart, which happens so rarely, maybe once a millenia, he spends the night sleepless and aching for you.

One of the first things he does once the tadpole is gone is hunt down Haarlep, if you made a deal with him. He wouldn’t allow his treasure to be violated and used any longer.

Astarion’s possessive love for you only grows as the years creep on. 

Sometime during your third century of marriage, Astarion stabs the eyes out of (and allegedly kills) dozens of men and women who he deigned to have violated you (and thus, disrespected him) by looking at you lustfully. It takes two decades of you begging him to stop before he finally relents.

Ask me anything, and it will be yours. On his own time, of course, which you have so much of. You become a very patient vampire.

Astarion certainly values your life and his, but not others. You have to remind him, lest he lose his humanity completely. And you, as well, have to make sure you have a tight hold on your own humanity. You are a vampire, after all.

Watching your friends pass one by one is difficult, and Astarion supports you through it all, despite him not particularly caring about them himself. He cares about his consort, and he does everything to make you comfortable while you grieve. This is where your humanity starts to slip, when your friends are gone from your life for many years.

If you are able to reverie, you aren’t able to actually look through your memories because of your undeath. The years stretch on so long, you nearly forget how the story began at all. But you always have Astarion, and he does his best to help you both remember.

Astarion never takes another consort or another independent lover. The two of you enjoy threesomes and orgies occasionally, but Astarion prefers it to be just you and him. Astarion did particularly like to watch you get fucked by other men and women. But this changes sometime during your first century of marriage. Astarion demands to have his consort and only his consort in the bedroom. He ultimately doesn’t trust anyone else to be intimate with him. He doesn't want anyone else to touch him. You don’t protest the decision.

Astarion creates regular vampire spawn, more for utility than anything else.  He always asks your permission.

After a thousand years, you and your Lord are inseparable. You are not to leave his sight. 

He is very powerful, and has become a threat and a target. The two of you rarely speak aloud anymore as your mind connection is so strong that your minds are melded together. Your relationship is beyond spoken word. As Bride and Master, you are unsure where you begin and he ends. 

Eternity is a very long time. Astarion agrees, but he never wants to die, and he certainly will never let you go.

In your old vampiric age, the two of you strike fear into every mortal you come across. You can't help it. You are both so hauntingly beautiful and pale, and your intense mind connection makes most mortals believe you to be...absent. Oh, how the sheep forget themselves.

Yet your need for blood is so small now. They needn't fear you, not really. You now only drink from Astarion, which gives you what you need. He loves it, being your life essence. 

He doesn't let you drink too much, of course. During your fifth century of marriage, Astarion wants you to feed on him and only on him, as his contempt for others grows and his possessive love for you begins to cause him his own bout of madness.

This causes you to go mad, and Astarion is entirely distraught until you are healed. He spends an extravagant amount of money and a long time healing you.

With the last of your friends dead, you forget to view the mortals as anything but the puppets of your Master. The ways of the world as you knew it slip by you. There is a war, Astarion tells you, but you have no fear. You know he will protect you.

You often go into a vampiric hibernation as you sit on your throne during court. Astarion is still able to put on the mask, but you cannot. Astarion wishes you would try harder, but he also understands.

Even after so many years, Astarion’s body craves you. You are certain you are addicted to each other. You wonder if it is a result of your vampiric marriage. 

He pleasures you every night, and you pleasure him; you cannot remember what sex was like before your undeath, but you know that nothing feels as good as when Astarion makes you come. 

Halsin is the last of your old friends that you can remember, as he lives to be nearly a thousand. You do your best to remember his face, but it slowly starts to slip away from you. 

You feel sad about these things, at times. Astarion cradles you, both your body and your mind, and tries to assure you of your gift. Eternity.

Part 2!!

Masterlist

#ascended astarion #Astarion headcanons #my hcs #spawn tav #Astarion bg3 #Lord Astarion #Ascendant Astarion #astarion x you #astarion x reader #ascended!astarion

[iikatsukii]

When the clock resets.

synopsis: you’re brought back to life, unsure as to why eywa has given you another chance but as you return “home” things aren't quite the same. . 

pairings: sully family x daughter/sister!reader, neteyam x twin!reader, neytiri x daughter! reader, jake x daughter!reader

warnings: um tbh none except minor cursing, running away, passing out, mentions of malnourishment due to you being dead but yk. oh and ao’nung being a mama’s boy.

word count: 6,064

a/n: THIS IS PART 2 OF TOO LATE!!!! unfortunately there is no red text this time but guys i am still not done with this series because i have a request for if the reader survived the first part. but i will be moving back over to illicit love for a little bit because i didn't even expect this story to blow up like i did. like yall i was just sad and here yall are feeding off my trauma. but its okay yall are my little angst hungry babies. :) (also huge fucking shoutout to @eywas-heir for giving me this idea for pt. 2. go give them kisses for me and say i sent you :d)

taglist: @hai-kbai @ssc7514 @sillydog3-4-5 @hyunskz @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @rairaielv @freeauthordeputyartisan-blog @mel119g @ksata @artyom09 @marcswife21 @innersuitcasehairdoscissors @andyfromku

(if youre name has a strike through it that means i wasnt able to tag you im so sorry guys i tried)

waking up felt extremely weird. you felt like you had taken the longest, heaviest nap ever. slowly opening your eyes to adjust to the light, you take in your surroundings.

you're in a shallow hole, you noticed as you looked around, and there was dirt around you. you look up at what you would think was the sky and see something else that you remember seeing before. you see the leaf covering that the omatikaya place over their passed-away loved ones. you usually see these leaf coverings from the outside. this caused a slight panic to settle in your chest?

why are you here? did you die? what the hell is going on?

you reached your arm up, still feeling weak from not moving your joints in you don't even know how long. you slowly press against the leaf covering, pushing it away from the hole and exposing the sun to your eyes. you shielded yourself before you felt a shadow standing over your form. it was mo'at. the tsahik of the omatikaya clan.

"tsahik?" it was the first word you said, and it caused mo'at to press a hand to her mouth in shock as tears sprang to her eyes. her granddaughter, who had passed away two years ago, was looking up to her from her grave that she had pushed open herself. the tsahik didn't understand. how could the great mother take you away for two years and let their family mourn and grieve your death just to send you back to them two years later?

this made no sense.

"come with me, my child," was the only thing mo'at said as she reached out to grab your hand. she intertwined your fingers, wanting to hold her granddaughter as close as possible, fearing losing you again. she helped you out of the hole slowly as you still had to get used to moving your arms and legs around again. 

"ma tsahik?" you asked the older woman standing before you. "what happened to me?"

she didn't turn to look at you as she said in a hushed, almost hurt, tone of voice, "you died two years ago," you were left speechless. you didn't know what to say, so you didn't say anything. you tried to think back on what happened before you woke up from your 'nap,' but you couldn't remember anything. no matter how hard, no memories or thoughts came to your head.

"do not try to work your brain so hard trying to find answers that will come to you, my child. you'll hurt yourself." the tsahik jokes.

you looked up at her, seeing the slight smile on her face but missing the faint trace of tears in her eyes. you let out a small laugh at her joke.

"hey! i may not remember anything from before, but i know i was not stupid before i died." you laughed along, but this caused the tsahik to stop in her tracks, turning to you.

"say that again." she said, grabbing hold of your shoulders, her face painted with worry. 

"i was not dumb before i died?" you said, confused at her sudden actions.

"no, child! the other thing you said."

"oh, that i do not remember anything from before i died?" your words were cautious because you didn't know if what you were saying was offensive. 

"we must get you back to the camps." was all she said as she turned, grabbing your hand, but this time she walked with urgency. her pace was hard to keep up with due to your aching body, but you somehow managed. 

once you started to enter your native territory, you felt eyes everywhere. everyone was looking at you. you get it; you died and came back, but did everyone have to stare at you like that? it wasn't like you were the olo'eyktans daughter before you died. 

mo'at brought you to the center of the high grounds camp, and everyone gathered around to see what announcement their tsahik had for them. 

she didn't have some big speech planned. she just held your hand and said to the clan's people. 

"the great-mother has returned my granddaughter!" everyone was cheering and happy. this confused the sully family. the past two years after your death have been hard. the natives completely annihilated every rda soldier, lab, and scientist in sight. it was an unexpected, coordinated attack between the forest na'vi, the ice na'vi, and, surprisingly, even the ash na'vi. due to transportation, the water na'vi couldn't make it to fight the war, but they were able to send over some of their finest healers. 

let's just say no ships are coming to pandora ever again. jake made sure to send a message to the humans back on earth that if they ever sent one of their own to his planet again, he would single-handedly rip them each limb from limb. that was a promise, not a threat. humans had not gotten a chance to respond to jake's words. right after he delivered his messages, he pulled the pin of a grenade and walked out of the ship, it and the rest of the camp's base exploding behind them. although they didn't get to respond, they sure did receive the message, and earth now no longer had an avatar program. as the na'vi walked away from the war, they were victorious once and for all. 

neytiri was quietly braiding her youngest daughter's hair when she heard the cheers and celebration of the clan outside her home. and then that's when her three older children came running into their hut, screaming and crying, speaking simultaneously. it sounded as if they were speaking gibberish. 

"hey, hey kids calm down. what is going on?" jake asked his children, who looked like they were in distress. he was sitting in the home's living area, sharpening his blade as he had nothing else to do. 

"Y/N HAS RETURNED." it was kiri who got the words out first. 

neytiri, jake, and tuk all froze. there was no way. the great mother had taken you right in front of their eyes. you have been gone for two years; it can't be. neytiri had visited your grave just last night. there you lay, closed-eyed and lifeless in front of her, but as she walked out of her home and into the center of the clan's gathering there, you stood. you looked skinny and malnourished, but you were standing, breathing, alive. 

neytiri couldn't believe her eyes. she thought she was dreaming as she approached you slowly. she held your face in her hands, and as soon as she felt your skin against her own, she broke down in tears, engulfing you in the tightest hug you had ever felt. 

"ow." you said when she squeezed a bit too hard. this caused the woman to release you quickly, as she had forgotten how fragile you were right now. 

"ma ite, you have returned to me, oh great mother, you have answered my prayers. thank you, thank you, thank you," she said as she pulled you into a hug again, this time softer, as if she was afraid that if she held you too rough, you would break in her arms. 

you, on the other hand, were nervous. granddaughter? ite? what is going on right now? there's no way you're the tsahik's granddaughter. you couldn't imagine what your mother would be like as a person, let alone any of your family. all you knew was that you were from the forest, but maybe eywa brought you back to the wrong part of the forest? you couldn't even look at the woman before you and pinpoint a resemblance. you had four fingers; some of her children had five, and you weren't like them. only one other child had four tingers, and you noticed it was the eldest son. 

when you made eye contact with him, his eyes softened. neteyam hadn't looked into his twin's eyes in ages. he missed you like no other. yeah, neytiri had it hard losing her first daughter, but neteyam had his twin's life ripped from her body right in front of his eyes. at that moment, it was almost like he felt the bullets go through his chest as well. that's how great the pain of losing you felt. but looking at you now, he felt like his heart was whole again. but there was this look in your eye. you looked different. not physically. you looked at neteyam differently. almost like you didn't recognize him.

mo'at had hoped that seeing your home and your family would cause your memories to come flooding back, but the look on your face was not giving her that impression. 

"i am sorry if i am ruining a happy moment…." you spoke up, causing everyone to immediately silence themselves so they wouldn't miss a word you said. but you didn't say anything that caused any happiness or joy in anyone. instead, your words scared everyone.

"–but i do not know who you guys are. i am not the tsahik's granddaughter and miss, i am not your daughter. i am sorry but i think you have things confused. please excuse me." you pulled yourself away from the woman who claimed to be your mother, but she tightened her grip on your hands.

"ma y/n, what do you mean? you do not remember me? i am your mother, your sa'nu. you are ma ite, my sweet girl." neytiri was taken aback. this isn't right, you're supposed to come back, and then everything goes back to normal. but the great mother has returned you with no memories at all. to you, neytiri was just a stranger claiming to be your mother.  

the next person to approach you was the olo'eyktan himself. you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes because of how his vast form intimidated you.

"itetsyip. maybe if you come home and see some of your things then you'll remember." he said, placing his hand on your back and walking you in the direction of what you assumed was their home. you quickly remove yourself from the two adults who had you in their arms. 

"i am sorry but i am not your daughter. i do not want to enter your home to look at whatever things you think are mine. just because i have no memory of my family does not mean you get to take me away from them. the great mother may have returned me to my body with no memories but that does not mean you get to put whatever you want in my head, trying to get me to believe you. i only just returned. do you not understand how overwhelming this is?" you were scared. everything was happening so fast. 

you just found out that you had been dead for two years, and now these people are trying to push this life in you that you know god and well that wasn't yours. you don't know who these people are, and they were making absurd accusations. maybe you really were in the wrong part of the forest.

"y/n stop joking around. do you not remember us? you are neteyam's twin sister for crying out loud. how can you be cruel enough to pull a joke like this? have we not suffered enough?" lo'ak was fed up with this whole situation. you were his sister, dammit. how could you not remember that? neteyam is your twin. you, tuk, and kiri were sisters. they're standing right in front of you, just begging you to run into their arms so they can embrace you.

you looked at the teenage boy oddly. like he had three heads. he doesn't know what he's talking about. these people are so pushy and demanding; you can't come from a family like this. you thought about it, and you knew they would be able to catch you if you tried to make a break for it, but you didn't want to be here anymore. 

lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the family's eldest son walking up to you. he gently grabbed your shoulders, looking directly into your eyes that were identical to his. 

"you could not have forgotten about your twin brother have you, sister?" his words were soft. they sounded broken like he was hurting inside. from what? you don't know, but this isn't your problem to deal with. these people obviously lost somebody, but it is not you. you are not from here. so you hatched a plan in your head. 

"maybe i just need to walk around the forest and re-familiarize myself. it–" you choked on your words, not even wanting to say it.

"it could help me regain my memories. and then we can be a family again, yeah?" you look into the boy's eyes, noticing them shining a bit brighter. you gave him hope. 

that wasn't your intention. you just wanted to leave, so to make yourself 100x more believable, you hugged him. with all the strength you had in your body, which wasn't much. 

everyone was shocked. even neteyam, but he didn't want to lose this moment, so he hugged you back tight, so you could feel his love but not too tight because of how weak you are. you pulled back from the hug, bowing slightly to everyone before you walked in the direction that you and the tsahik came from so you wouldn't seem lost. you looked back before you could fully disappear into the trees. eyes meeting those of the people who claimed to be your family. looking at them, you didn't even see where you would fit in. they already looked whole. so you managed a small fake smile, sent them a small wave, and continued your trek through the forest, trying to get as far away from the omatikaya people as possible.

by the time they realize you're gone, you'll already be way too far for them to find you. you wandered around, wondering why the great-mother returned you like this? did you not deserve to keep your memories?

almost as if she heard your question, the great mother flashed an image in your head. it was different shades of forest green, with indigo spots placed randomly around its body, looking almost like flowers. its wings were majestic, but you couldn't pinpoint what you had seen until it landed right in front of you, keeping you from walking off a cliff you hadn't even realized you were walking towards. 

you couldn't believe that after two years of being gone, your ikran, syulang, was still alive. you named her syulang because, yes, of course, she looks like she's covered in flowers, but unlike other ikrans, syu was quiet, elegant, almost undetectable in the air. you would never hear her flying anywhere, and nobody knew why. the air would run smoothly over her wings, completely muting the sound of the wind rushing by in comparison to the usual loud, noisy ikrans that everyone else had tamed. syulang was delicate, like a flower.  "syu! hi girl, oh my goodness you’re alive." you said as you created your tsaheylu with her for the first time in years. it felt like the first time all over again, except without the part where she tried to kill you. syulang was happy to see you as well, nuzzling into you. "syulang, we have to go. right now. come on girl, take me home." when you said this, syulang made a noise of confusion but allowed you to mount her anyways. the two of you took off into the night, the eclipse making it too dark for anyone to notice that an ikran was out flying. not like they would hear syulang anyways.

it's been hours. you still hadn't come back from the forest, and the sullys were getting worried. everyone was tense and stressed until kiri spoke up. 

"she ran away," the teenage girl hadn't even realized it was herself who had spoken. she looked up and made eye contact with everyone in her family, repeating herself.

"she ran away, and she is not going to come back." tears sprung to her eyes as she just wanted her sister to return home. it was like eywa was dangling the most precious thing to them right in their faces, and every time they reached out, she snatched it away. 

"she would not do that. she said she was just going on a walk. kiri have some faith in her. sure she did not remember us but she would not have hugged me if she was just gonna run away. she said she would come home." neteyam argued. he didn't want to believe that you had left them again, but that's what it was starting to seem like. 

"we will check the ikrans. if hers is still there, then she's around here somewhere. we can go out and look for her." syulang had not left your family's ikran nest since the day you had passed. she was too depressed to do anything with her hunter being dead. the sullys made sure to take care of her for you, knowing you wouldn't want syu to suffer like you did. honestly, syulang was the closest thing the sullys had to you after you died. they'd take turns taking care of her at night, bringing tuk every now and then so she could see syulang too. 

the walk to the family ikran nest was full of arguing. kiri said that neteyam and lo'ak had to come to their senses and realize that you were gone again. the boys refused to believe that you would leave again, but as they approached the ikran nest, seeing syulang's corner abandoned gave them the answer they fought over. 

you had left.

"i told you she left. i mean for eywa's sake you guys bombarded her as soon as she got here!" kiri yelled at her family. she knew this was just displaced anger and that she didn't really mean it, but she was tired of holding her tongue. 

"don’t you dare say we bombarded her! she is my twin who died in front of me! eywa forgive me for wanting to hug her after she's been dead for two years!" neteyam yelled back at kiri; this just caused a huge family argument to break out.

tuk, who was standing to the side watching her family fall apart, couldn't help but cry. she just wanted her family to go back to normal. "stop fighting…" it came out as a whisper, her family arguing so loud that they hadn't even heard her. so she decided to make them hear her.

"STOP FIGHTING!!" everyones' heads snapped at the youngest sully child. little tuk had just raised her voice at them for the first time ever.

"give me a break! we are all hurt okay?! us, y/n, grandma, the clan? everyone is sad! we did bombard her! she has not been here for two years. we should have let her settle in first. i get it. you guys miss her. so do i, but ma sa'nu when you talked to her she looked so confused and scared. and nete, when she was hugging you her eyes were so empty. she looked so lost. we scared her away. we had a chance to make things normal again, to be a family again and all you guys could do was be selfish and think about yourselves!! i just miss her. i want her to come back, i–" tuk couldn't even finish what she was saying as her sobs overcame her. neytiri scooped up her youngest daughter, cradling her in her arms, trying to soothe her harsh cries.

tuk had just lectured their entire family, and nobody could be mad at her because she was right. neytiri realized that she had been pushy. jake and lo'ak, too, but it wasn't because they were trying to scare you. they just missed you so much they couldn't contain themselves. they had been selfish, putting their feelings over yours once again. it was the same way they lost you last time, and now, who knows where you went or when you left. the family just remained in their ikrans nest that night, needing all the warmth they could get as they all just held each other and cried.

you didn't think you could fly any longer. it had already been a few days, and you didn't see the forest anymore. you already didn't have a lot of energy due to you being dead for two years, but it didn't help that you left with absolutely no supplies to survive on your own. everything was starting to look the same. you felt like you were going in circles, seeing the same islands over and over. the ocean water was beautiful, you had to admit, but right now, all you could think about was if it would cushion your fall if you fell off your ikran. you knew it was only moments before you passed out from exhaustion.

the world started to spin as if it wasn't already, your vision was in and out, and you felt sleepy. you were exhausted and couldn't fly another second. as your body completely shut down, you fell off your ikran and into the waters below you, your tsaheylu disconnecting in the process.

had it not been for the hunters out at three brothers rock, you would have died. they noticed your ikran flying in the direction of their mainland, assuming you were a visitor and that they would meet you when they got back to the island, but they knew something was wrong when they noticed your form plummeting from the extreme height, completely motionless. 

they only took a few minutes to have you on the rock. they were nervous about doing cpr on you because you looked to be a teenager.

"ao'nung, come over here!" the hunter in charge called over the olo'eyktans son.

"what is it?" he said, noticing the tension in the air. he looked down, seeing you unconscious on the ground. his eyes widened. where had you come from? pushing that question aside, ao'nung took in your appearance, noticing how thin and weak you looked. he didn't know what it was, but it stirred something in him. you reminded him of his little sister, tsireya. if this was her, he would want one of the hunters to save her, so he put one arm under your shoulders and another under your leg and slid into the water, calling out to his ilu. 

"i'm bringing her to my mother immediately. she looks weak. i don't even know if she'll live, but i have to try." he said before taking off as fast as he could to the mainland. he noticed above him your ikran was flying at the same pace as him, probably too worried to leave your side.

when ao'nung got home holding an unconscious forest na'vi, he received a lot of weird glances from the clan's people, but he didn't care. he rushed home, looking for his mother.

pushing the flap open to see his mother had just put the last of her herbs away, ao'nung called out to his mom. 

"sa'nu! help! i– she needs help. please." hearing her son in distress, ronal was quick to give him her attention. instructing to lay the girl on the floor, she reminded herself to ask him where he had found her, but right now, she prioritized saving your life. she tried a healing remedy that would've usually worked, but you remained motionless. ronal put her ear to your chest, your heart was beating, but it was very faint. she knew only one thing she could do now, and it was the riskiest healing remedy known by all tsahiks. it has a minimal success rate but has healed some of the deadliest injuries known to eywa.  

once the remedy was made entirely, ronal told ao'nung to get out and find his father and sister before coming back. the boy nodded, walking out to find his sister. 

when he spotted tsireya riding on the ilus with her friends, he called her over. tsireya noticed her brother looked a bit more anxious than usual, so she excused herself and walked over. 

"brother what is wro– oh!" ao'nung pulled his little sister into the tightest hug he could muster. she remained shocked as her brother wasn't really one for physical affection at all unless it was from his mother. 

"please just– don't die on me, okay? at least not anytime soon. promise me, okay?" he said, pulling back and grabbing her shoulders as he looked into his sister's eyes. she just nodded and walked alongside her brother, wondering what on earth had him shaken up like this. 

upon retrieving his father, ao'nung returned with his father and his sister in tow. when they entered the tent, you were in ronal's arms, crying your heart out. the woman just looked up to her family, shushing them as she continued to provide you comfort. hearing your cries throughout their home hurt their hearts. you cried like you were hurt like you had experienced grave pain, and it was coming back to haunt you. 

from this moment on, the family decided they would take you in. they didn't know who or where you were from, but they wanted to heal you of this pain. their hearts hurt hearing how much pain your heart had to endure. there's a reason why eywa brought you to them, and they were not about to let you go.

you had been living amongst the metkayina clan for about half a year now. you weren't even recognizable from when you had arrived at the clan. when you got here, you were thin as a twig, you never had the energy to do anything, and you cried yourself to sleep every night. now, you had filled out your form, even gaining a bit of muscle from adapting to the metkayina ways. you had also completed your iknimaya, which meant you were allowed to get a tattoo. you choose to get two. the pain was well worth it, though, because once your leg sleeve and arm tattoo were complete, you couldn't have been happier. 

you finally felt like your life was worth living again. you no longer cried yourself to sleep; instead, you snuck out with your brother and sister, going to the small island where all the young na'vi hang out. you were finally happy. the great mother had brought you home. she had returned you to your family. 

the only odd thing was your dreams recently. you dreamed of the forest, of nantangs, woodsprites, and ikrans. things that have nothing to do with the metkayina. it was weird. you felt like eywa was trying to shove memories in your brain, but you were so at peace with your life that you disregarded it, too caught up, in reality, to be bothered by silly dreams. 

you loved life on the beaches, in the sand, underwater, just taking in the beauty of awat'alu as you sat on a rock. at the same time, you watched ao'nung, tsireya, and rotxo playing on their ilus in the water. they were splashing each other, just taking time to be the teenagers they knew they'll never be again. you were about to cannonball in the water to join them when you all heard the horns of the clan being blown, announcing new arrivals. 

you all stopped what you were doing, looking toward the screeches you heard. you knew that sound, that was bob, jake's ikran.

wait a minute… what?

whos jake?

‘jake sully’ said a voice in your head. you recognized it as she had spoken to you once before, but you couldn't remember where. 

why is this name coming to your head right now? you felt your wrist being grabbed by your sister, tsireya. she dragged you to the beaches of your clan's home, where everyone else had gathered. you stood behind your father, tonowari, as you continued to think about the name that came to your head. who is jake sully, and why did you just remember his name? 

"my children, ao'nung, tsireya, and–" tonowari paused, looking to his side at his children, realizing one was missing, until he turned around and realized you were just hiding behind him. 

"–and my youngest, y/n, will teach your children the ways of our home, so you do not suffer the burden of being useless here," tonowari stepped aside, pushing you in front of him, so the family who had arrived could see you. 

you looked up to make eye contact with the first person you spotted.

"tuktuk." the words were quiet from your mouth. the little girl, who had her head tucked into her mother's neck, perked up when she heard the nickname you used to call her.

"kiri, cut it out. that is not funny!" tuk said, looking at her sister, offended she would play a sick joke on her like that after they had just left their home. 

jake and neytiri decided to move their family from the omatikaya clan, deciding that being there reminded them too much of you. it hurt to continue to live on the soil that you died on. so they up and moved their whole family elsewhere, flying towards warmer air and gorgeous waters. they fully expected to be able to find uturu with jake being toruk makto and their war being over. what they hadn't expected to see was their dead runaway daughter standing amongst a sea of teal na'vi.

slowly walking towards the family, tonowari called out to you, but ronal placed her hand on her mate's chest, telling him to shut up and watch what was happening.

"tuktuk," you repeated as you walked towards the girl. when tuk realized that the voice was coming from in front of her and not behind her, she turned her head around, her yellow eyes meeting yours. 

"y/n!!" tuk practically dropped herself from her moms' arms, running up to you. 

you met her halfway, falling to your knees, pulling your little sister into a hug, her face in your neck as you supported her head. as you looked at each one of them, their names, faces, and memories came back. you remembered everything. 

"and you're neteyam, and lo'ak and kiri!" when your siblings heard you say their names, it was like a switch in them flipped. within seconds they were all in the sand hugging you and tuk, crying because you finally remembered them. 

you pulled back from the hug, looking at the two people who hadn't joined the hug yet. 

"sempu," you said, reaching your hand out to jake. he didn't even try to conceal his tears as he allowed himself to join his children in their hug. 

your mother still stood there in awe. neytiri was scared. she was the reason you left last time and didn't want to scare you away again, so she just stood with tears rolling down her face, not knowing what to do. for the first time in her life, neytiri didn't know what to do. 

you could see the hesitation in her eyes. but you were confused as to why. neytiri was the only one who treated you right before you died… so why is she the last to come to you.

"mom?" you called out to her, but she didn't move. did she not want you anymore? has she gotten used to the family without you? 

you tried once more, refusing to lose your family again. "sa'nu, please." a tear rolled down your cheek, looking into your mother's eyes. you saw all the hurt and stress, everything she had to endure while you were gone. 

hearing you call her sa'nu was the last push neytiri needed before she fell to her knees and joined her family's embrace. you have returned. you returned to your family, and you were safe. everyone pulled back from you, taking in your appearance. you had matured a lot since the last time they saw you. you and neteyam were about the same height now, but your muscles surpassed his due to all the swimming you do. 

you noticed that he had noticed too, and you just nudged his shoulder with your own, "do not worry, twin, i will teach you everything you will need to know. maybe you will grow up to be big and strong like me," you teased your twin. neteyam rolled his eyes, laughing along with you. 

"woah! y/n, you have a tattoo?" lo'ak asked as he looked at your left leg. you just laughed at his silly question. of course, that's the first thing he asks you. 

"she has two! there's one on this arm as well," kiri said, holding out your right arm so they could see the tattoo that you had there as well. 

"no fair, mom, i want a tattoo." tuk said, whining to her mother. neytiri laughed at her daughter's statement and just pet her head, moving her braids out her face. "maybe when you're older, tuk," she said.

"babygirl," your father grabbed your attention. "i just want you to know that we are all so sorry for how we treated you before you past–" you cut your father off, shaking your head. 

"it is in the past. the great mother may have returned my memories but it is me who gets to choose which ones to remember. i want to leave the past behind me. i have found a new home here. new peace. a found family who loves me dearly. i don't want you guys to feel like you have to atone to anything. eywa has given us a new start, so i think we should welcome it with open arms instead of trying to mend that has already been healed," you really had matured in your time away from the sullys. 

they all looked at one another. if that was what you wanted, they would be sure to leave the past in the past so they can embrace the chance to make things right with you. 

you stood, the rest of the sullys following. you walked back over to tonowari and ronal, pulling them into a hug. 

"just because my memories have returned does not mean that you are not my family anymore. you have all helped and healed me from wounds that i did not know i had so i can only thank you, sempu, sa'nu. you guys are my found family and i would not trade you for the world." smiling up at your other parents. Wow, this is gonna get confusing, but you were more than excited to have two families. 

you looked over and pulled ao'nung and tsireya into the hug as well. "you guys, too, thank you so much," you said to your siblings. they couldn't do anything but hug you back. you may not be their biological blood, but they could care less. you are now one of their people. ronal and tonowari will always see you as their daughter, and ao'nung and tsireya will always see you as their sister. you will always be family to them. 

you and tsireya decided to guide the sully family to their new home, as ronal had allowed them to stay. you noticed that lo'ak was eying your sister up quite a bit and decided that you would tease him about it later. you were just happy to finally feel at peace. you finally had the family, the life you had dreamed of. 

you couldn't do anything except thank eywa for all the good she brought into your life. 

‘you're welcome, my child.’ it was the same voice that you heard earlier. when you realized that she was responding to your thanks, if you finally clicked whose voice you were hearing. 

it was eywa.

she was with you. she had always been. throughout this journey, she made sure to stick by your side. that was something that you couldn't be more grateful for. 

‘be free my child, allow nothing from here on out to hold you back. you are meant to live a happy life, and now you are able to do so.’

#avatar x reader #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar wotw #avatar 2 #awotw x reader #atwow x you #atwow angst #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam x twin!reader #neteyam angst #ao'nung is a mommas boy idc. #sully family angst #happy endings i GUESS #illicit love is ab to make yall so mad LMFAO

[messylustt]

requesting for part two of the Yandere dead wife Miguel fic please 🙏

COPIED DESIRE / A LITTLE DIZZY ( nsfw ) — miguel o’hara + reader: you wake up somewhere new, with someone who looks exactly like your husband.

marks yandere. full on manipulation here goddamn. possessive!miguel. like I’m not kidding he’s actually terrible for this (but of course still all soft and sweet to you). wc 1.5k.

pt one. pt two.

it was dark. at first at least, because your mind felt dizzy, as you moved to sit up. at first you thought maybe something was covering your eyes. but no, the room was just…dark.

you could feel the bed underneath you, as your feet hit the cold floor. the room looked rather bland, but as you continued to gaze around, brows furrowed at your swaying mind, you stop on a picture frame.

it had been purposefully placed down, which most likely meant that you probably shouldn’t put it back up. but your curiosity and want to realise your situation better, made your hand lift to view the picture. your breathing hitches when you see you.

or well…maybe not you. but a version. a version of you smiling, oblivious to the photo in general.

“she’s pretty isn’t she?” a voice makes you quickly place the photo back down as you spin to face whoever it was. you sway a fraction, reaching to grab out for the bed’s end post, but a hand is quickly holding you steady.

“you’ll be a bit dizzy still.” he softly comments, and then you recognise the voice. miguel. but not your miguel. you rush back, chest heaving. “you…you…kidnapped me?” your comment is more so a question at this point, as miguel shakes his head, reaching for you again.

but you stumble back, hand out, as you stare with full fledged anger. “don’t you dare come closer…i—“you take a breath, because it’s true you did still feel dizzy. you shake your head continuously. “you’re not…please tell me I’m dreaming.” you meet his gaze, and see utter adoration, but clear worry at your frantic actions.

“i thought so too at first.” miguel smiles. actually smiles. and you can’t fathom how he can at the current situation.

“but it’s not…”

miguel shakes his head, confirming so. “no. you’re here…” then he further mutters to himself. “…you’re really here…”

“no.” you say pointedly. “take me back.”

“look i know that you probably feel…scared right now—“

“scared?” you hiss out. “of course i feel scared. you pretended to be…oh god…i kissed you.” you mutter, replying yesterdays actions. was it yesterday? you weren’t sure. because time seemed to be irrelevant as of now.

“and it was better than I remembered.” miguel is slowly edging closer to you.

you shake your head, jaw clenching. “no. no, i’m not…i’m not your wife. please tell me you know that.”

“i know.” miguel clenched his jaw. “my wife is dead.”

you stop, meeting his gaze. there’s a flash of something cold before he catches your gaze, softening instantly, as his lips twitch up. “but you aren’t…and i’m not gonna let you die…” he edged closer again. “‘m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

you keep your hand out, but your expression has softened a fraction. he still grieved. and now his desperation kinda made sense to you. but that still gives him no right to just…take you. “i’m…sorry. i am, but i have my own life. a different life. with…miguel…my miguel.”

miguel’s jaw tightens at this, as he steps much much closer. you hadn’t realised that you were backing up until you felt the cold wall at your back. now Miguel had you trapped as his gaze wandered your face with an intimacy that had your breath hitching.

“i’m barely any different from your miguel.” he says, brushing your face and neck, making you shiver.

“he wouldn’t just kidnap someone.” you mutter, making miguel’s darting eyes meet your own. his caresses moved to grab your chin, keeping your head how he wanted.

“i hate to break it to you. but if any of my variants are like me, then anything close to determination, or desperation will lead us to do something like this.” his mouth had moved to drag his lips up the skin of your neck, just breathing you in. “if anything is of high importance to us, we make sure we get it.” he places a kiss to your collarbone.

your entire body is tense, as you try to draw away from his eager lips. but he’s persistent, keeping you still, as he begins to suck on your neck, mumbling spanish words into your skin.

“and you…are probably the upmost important thing to us.” his other hand has slipped around your waist, as his hand by your chin slips to the back of your neck.

“you’re wrong.” you manage, as he litters kisses up your neck and jaw.

“am i?” miguel hums, kitten licking your skin.

“i’m…i’m not important to you. only to one of you…or i’d like to think so.” you say quickly, trying not to let his kisses effect you.

miguel shakes his head against your skin, his head now resting in the crook of your neck as he just keeps you close. “but you are, you…mine...” he mutters your name.

“no—“

“yes.” he interrupts, pulling your waist closer to him. “all mine.” he mutters, his open mouth now over the side of your neck.

“i’m not…please, i’m…” you try, but his weight is crushing. “i’m really sorry about your wife, but…i’m not her, i can’t be her.”

“yes you can. you’re exactly like her.” miguel says, lifting his head, to kiss your lips. your ‘no’ comes out muffled as you manage to slightly draw him away.

“miguel.” you say pointedly. and he finally stops, breathing hard as he stares, seeming to make sure all your details sink into his brain.

“i can’t let you go again.”

“miguel.” you say again. “you never had me.”

his grip around your waist tightened. “i don’t care that you’re from another universe. you’re my wife. my wife now. you can’t really think i’d just give that up so easily can you?”

you shake your head. “i’m already married.”

“to a version of me.” he says, his clawed finger going back to tracing your skin.

“no. you’re a version of him, to me.” you say, truthfully. “you’re the variant who has no right. He’s my husband.”

his jaw clenched, his soft tracing now a tight grip on your cheeks to stop you talking. “don’t say that.”

you still manage to speak. “it’s the truth. even you can’t deny that.”

he breathes, his tongue running down his fang. “fine. you were his wife.” his hand had begun to stroke any part of you, keeping you close and against him. “but where is he? it’s been two days.”

your eyes widen. two days?!

miguel smirks at your shocked expression. “if he really was your husband, and cares about you. he would have found you already. i would have found you.” miguel’s manipulative words are whispered so enticingly.

you shake your head. “no he’s…where even am I?”

miguel didn’t want to say his universe. because then you’d make up some excuse about how your husband physically couldn’t get here. so Miguel instead says. “somewhere quiet. not far from your house actually. he’s just so oblivious.” miguel hides his smirk in your neck, going back to kissing and licking.

“no…” you weren’t going to believe that. He’s looking for you. your miguel is looking for you.

miguels hand slipped under your shirt, just to stroke your waist, hips and stomach. “maybe he’s just…busy. he has such a hard job doesn’t he?”

he’s looking for you—you keep repeating to yourself. he’s looking, he’s looking. but miguels poisonous words have snuck their way into your mind.

“i actually saw your husband, before I went to your house…” lies lies lies. “he was with…someone.”

your jaw clenched. because your mind instantly went to the woman he works with. no. you weren’t gonna be jealous. she was only his co-worker. a friend.

“they were standing rather…close.” miguel’s lips have left marks all over your neck, as he keeps stroking your skin, doing a lot more damage to your mind. a target of his that he can feel is slowly working. because you aren’t as tense anymore, and maybe you’re just thinking. but that would mean miguel’s plan is on its way.

he lifted his head, his face falling again, as he looks concerned, brushing your cheek with his fingers. “she seemed rather…eagerly engaging with him. of course i’m sure it’s nothing though. i’m sure he’s looking for you.”

miguel watches the switch in your expression. my, my you were so easy to manipulate. he held down his grin still displaying a form of sadness and pity.

“i’m sure he didn’t agree to that dinner.”

“what?” you stare at him, and for the first time today you completely and utterly stare at miguel. and he feels ecstatic.

“you didn’t know?” miguel tilts his head in fake surprise. “i thought he would have told you, since you’re well…his wife.”

he’s lying—you think to yourself. all his words are lies. but you can’t help but feel doubt prickle under your skin. because yes, your miguel has been rather busy lately, making small excuses. it’s fine right. he’s looking for you…right?

“ay, mi cariño…you didn’t know? i’m so sorry.” miguel gently kissed your cheek. carefully reading your now relaxed posture, as he moves his lips to capture yours.

and that’s when he knew he had you. his doubtful thoughts were planted now. and as he moved his hand to support the back of your neck, he knew for sure—kissing you harder—that he had you completely under his control.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

#. ( spidey mark ) #the miguel effect #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara one shot #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x you #miguel x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara fic #miguel fucking o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv smut #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #yandere!miguel o’hara #yandere!miguel

[somerandomdudelmao]

Okay okay hear me out.

We all know that Donnie was devastated to discover what happened to his brothers. But in light of the most recent update, new meaning has been added to the panels of him watching their deaths' play out.

Look at him here. At first glance, it simply seemed that Donnie was grieving the loss of his brothers. "We lost. They're all gone. My dumb dumb brothers sacrificed themselves. I'm alone."

BUT after today's update, we realize that NOOO he's not just regretting that they're gone, he's BLAMING HIMSELF. Not only is he sad, he feels GUILT.

Looking back, his face clearly says, "I could have stopped it. I could have saved them. I failed. This is my fault."

"If I had been with you, the outcome might have been better." What hurts is that Don is RIGHT. He WAS the keystone of the resistance. Everything does indeed fall apart soon after he's gone (hence the episode name). It's a cruel, ironic twist on Survivor's Guilt-- because in that timeline he didn't survive. He was gone. And he blames himself for being gone.

We often talk about Future Leo's guilt over the apocalypse, but Future Donnie's guilt is not to be taken lightly. It actually makes a LOT of sense for him to blame himself for his family's deaths. We know that all dear Donton has ever wanted is validation for his tech, and his tech is his way of expressing to his family that he loves them. Ergo, all Donnie wants is to make tech to protect his family to Show Them That He Loves Them.

This is probably why he opened up to Raph, all but admitting his guilt over the less-than-perfect security system: it was like saying he and his love failed to protect them for long.

The character analysis deepens~

Here (and throughout all of The Little Things, really) we see him taking steps to make sure his brothers (and the resistance) will be taken care of. Delegating everything, even The Little Things (ah HA) all to ensure that all he does for them (to prove his love, of course) continues to happen.

Even here, when Donnie has been hanging onto life for so long that the Kraang are shocked he's still alive, Donnie wants to help. He could not "sit here and listen to them get killed," because he is Donatello, and he loves his family. Cass, you said it yourself: Violence is his love language. Rushing into battle, decimating the Kraang, saving his family. Because he may be dying, he may be clinging to life by a few threads, but he is Hamato Donatello and he loves his family.

But in the end, that's what he does. In the end, he DOES sit there and watch them get killed. Watches with his very own tech. One. By. One. They. Die. And deep down, Donnie thinks that if he would have been there, he could have found a way to make a generator NOT from Raph's heart. That he could have supported Mikey enough to keep him from disintegrating. That he could have protected Leo in those final, self sacrificial moments.

Donatello blames himself for not being there for his brothers. He blames himself for his tech not being flawless enough. He blames himself for dying on them.

Which is why he won't rest until they're ALL back home.

He is Mr. "I Can Fix This", so of COURSE he's going to fix this.

And afterwards, when his family is SAFE and HOME and TOGETHER he's going to apologize for "letting them die" and he's FINALLY going to get some SENSE knocked into his OWN dumb dumb brain (probably by Dr. Delicate Touch). His brothers love him because he's DONNIE. I cannot WAIT for the moment when they make him realize that they didn't miss his tech, they missed HIM. He's gonna realize just how utterly loved he is and I'm so excited for you, Cass, to show us that moment.

(I apologize; this got out of hand quickly, but the analysis has been bouncing around my head all day and I NEEDED to share it)

OH THIS IS ONE GREAT ANALYSIS RIGHT HERE

#I kinda..want to make a tag for these... #like #hm #cas analysis #yes I'm so unbelievably good at naming

[anonymous-dentist]

Here’s something interesting about the strip club interrogation: q!Roier knows that q!Quackity is innocent. He knows because he’s Quackity’s therapist, and because he’s purposefully let Quackity think that they’re friends, but they aren’t. Roier has been planning his revenge for weeks, biding his time, and yesterday was the perfect opportunity.

The eggs calmed things down a little. Roier didn’t actively talk about revenge as much outside of torture chamber construction. But here’s what he said to Quackity before the eggs even arrived, he said that Quackity would be his own downfall and that Roier would be watching the whole time. And Roier has been.

Roier started his psychology office to get gossip, and Quackity was one of his patients. He basically proved his innocence in that session, which Roier knows. He knows that Quackity isn’t actually going to kill any eggs because Quackity has told him as much.

But that doesn’t mean that Roier can’t take advantage of the situation, does it? Quackity is a desperate and grieving father here, and everyone is wary of him, especially now with the news that the eggs are all going to die and with people becoming worried about the Federation.

He tells q!Wilbur that Quackity wants the eggs dead. After that, Wilbur is especially unwilling to allow Quackity even near Tallulah. Roier helps Quackity and Gegg destroy Tallulah’s area and he gets away with it, Quackity being the only one to really get in any serious trouble because of it. Tallulah can’t see Quackity anymore “for her safety”, and that’s probably what Roier wanted because he knows just how much Quackity loves her. They destroyed her home just moments after Quackity admitted that he saw Tallulah as a daughter. Roier tells other fathers that Quackity is dangerous at the school, and they agree. And who would doubt Roier? He’s a good father and a good friend. He’s the babysitter. He flirts with everyone. Why wouldn’t you trust such a nice guy?

Quackity is alone.

And now in the interrogation, Roier stays silent as Quackity is essentially manipulated into a confession while drunk. Quackity is going to trial, and he’s going to lose.

Roier admitted it himself later in that stream, this was just part of his revenge against Quackity. He wants to see Quackity miserable. He wants him to feel as desperate as Roier did when he was betrayed by him, and Roier probably won’t stop until Quackity has dug his own grave and lied in it.

He said that Quackity would be the one to ruin himself, and, really, is he wrong? To everyone but Roier and his audience, it does look like this is all Quackity’s fault. Even Quackity probably thinks so.

If this is the beginning of Roier’s plans against Quackity, the guy who didn’t even kill him, it’s gonna be rough seeing what he does to Spreen.

#qsmp #qsmp meta #he’s my special guy and he’s never done anything wrong

[mochiwrites]

They say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.

Scar never believed in it, not after dying twice, both times having been caught off guard. He didn't have time to reflect on the life he'd been leaving behind, not when everything happened so fast, not when to Scar it was like blinking before he was surrounded by total black.

But as he lay in the sand, letting the wind sweep over his weakening body, he starts to look back. He starts from the beginning, from setting Etho's tree on fire to pulling Grian into the desert on Pizza. He thinks of his second death to the ravine, how Grian's scream had been the thing to accompany him on his brief journey to blackness. He thinks of holding Grian in his arms as they celebrate a successful trap, or their hours spent digging a bunker.

Scar thinks of their ruined home, the place he'd always return to.

It's funny, how different this death feels to the other two times. Maybe that's because there's no coming back from this one. This is it. This is the end for Scar. His final breath.

He stares up at the big beautiful blue sky, and there is no longer any red to cloud his vision. If he had any energy left, he'd probably smile. All he can muster is the smallest twitch of his lips, blood drying on his chin.

A shadow fills his vision, and Scar has just a few seconds to see Grian's bruised face enter from the corner. He sees tears welling in those red eyes, one or two rolling down his cheeks as he picks up Scar's fading, cold body, pulling it tight to his chest.

Scar wishes he could reach out, he wishes he could press his palm into Grian's cheek and tell him not to cry. He much prefers it when Grian is laughing, when he's smiling. It suits him much better than this guilt ridden expression. Why are you crying? He wants to ask. You won! Scar is happy he won.

"I'm sorry Scar," Grian shakily whispers into his hair, his wings wrapping around the two of them like a shield. Scar isn't sure what he needs to shield them from, not anymore. The ghosts? Surely they aren't interested in this. In them. "I'm so sorry."

It's to Grian's warmth that Scar fades away, eyes fully shutting as he finds he's lost the energy, the will, to keep himself alive. Scar's purpose is complete, Grian is alive and well, and that's all that matters to him. He's okay with saying goodbye.

He joins the living dead, nothing more than a spirit.

He returns to the image of Grian hugging Scar close, yet as a ghost. His body is see through, he is no longer a corporeal being. Even as a ghost, he's returned right to where his heart and his soul rests, he's returned to his home, to his Grian. Scar doesn't question it. Of course he's ended up back here, back to the other half of his heart.

Grian had said once that everything in their story was dead.

Maybe it was just Scar being an optimist, but he liked to think that their story didn't have to end in death. Maybe it had just been Scar looking to a life after this, where there will be more laughter, more pranks and joy, more warmth shared. Scar liked to think that they were in control of their narrative, that not everything was dead, because they were alive.

But looking as Grian grieves over Scar, he wonders if Grian had always thought they were dead from the start.

As a ghost, Scar is forced to stand there as Grian rises on shaking legs. "Just one life left," he says, and Scar's nonexistent heart leaps to his throat.

"Grian, stop," he pleads, but his voice is nothing more than the breeze of the wind. He's helpless, unable to reach his partner as he takes slow, agonizing steps toward the edge Monopoly Mountain, right beside Pizza's grave. "Grian," Scar begs. It wasn't supposed to go this way.

Drops of blood fall from Grian's bloodied knuckles, staining the sand below. He walks toward the edge, and Scar follows, trying to reach out to him. Yet his hand phases right through Grian's back, never making contact.

Scar's heart breaks.

What else can the king of death do but watch his ever faithful knight follow him to where he should not?

#scarian #trafficshipping #desert duo #mochi writes #tw death #tw implied suicide #HAPPY THIRD LIFE DAY #HAVE SOME SCAR ANGST YIPPEE #I made myself cry LMAO

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #Dean Winchester mark of cain #moc!dean #mark of cain #supernatural angst #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #angry Dean Winchester #angry!dean #dark Dean Winchester #angst #angst no happy ending #angst no comfort #platonic Sam Winchester

[reve-writes]

—fixer upper. | alice in borderland chishiya shuntarō x reader.

you were shot. he helped you not bleed out to death. | set in s2 beginning of king of spades.

CHISHIYA WAS CUNNING AND SELF-PRESERVING. While it would've slightly hurt your feelings if he had left you, it would be very much in-character of him.

He cussed when the first spray of bullets was fired, finding cover. You cussed seconds later, leaning against a pillar, your hand hovering over a fresh bullet wound just above your hip bone.

"Fuck," you repeatedly said, trying to stay calm despite the adrenaline pumping through you. You needed to think of the different ways you could get to safety, away from the gun-crazed maniac.

"Can you move?" Chishiya asked, noticing the blooming blood on your jacket.

You closed your eyes, the pain was starting to sink in. "You go. I'll wait for the shooter to walk past and make a run for it."

He said nothing and for a terrible second, you thought you were actually alone. Having been in the Beach for quite a while, you weren't used to isolation. Your eyes shot open when you felt someone grab your hand.

"Can you walk?" He asked again, slinging your arm over his shoulders.

You stare at him blankly for a second. He asked again, with an annoyed click of his tongue. "Can you walk or not?"

"I can try," you answered, hobbling along the sidewalk with the silver-haired man. You hissed and cursed every time he pulled or pushed you swiftly to take cover.

"You're regretting it, huh? Should've left me," you teased, watching him as he frowned with effort.

"Stop talking and move faster."

Finally, he ducked under an apothecary, pulling you inside with him, waddling as far away from the doors and windows as possible. You hid behind the cash register counter while gunshots rang over and over again outside. Until, eventually the sound got quieter and disappeared.

Chishiya peeked over the counter. Still quiet. He gingerly stood up and walked quietly over around the counter.

"I have the shittiest luck," you complained. "Can't even die from the shot. Now I have to sit here and bleed to death in pain."

"On the contrary, I think your luck is keeping you alive," he replied, shuffling about between the shelves.

You shrugged, not that Chishiya could see it. "Maybe I'm lucky to be stuck with you then."

It was silent for a second and two and five.

"Are you—"

You interrupted him, "Because you're a med student! I didn't mean to make it weird."

"You remembered," he said, putting a handful of supplies next to you. Gauze, anesthetic, antiseptics. Sat facing you, Chishiya put on a pair of latex gloves.

"Take off your jacket."

"Huh?"

Still as expressionless as ever, he tugged on the bottom hem of your jacket. "Off."

You slid down the zipper awkwardly. Chishiya was completely professional while dressing your wound. You were staring at him, shamelessly, as his blood-slicked hand pressed against your torso.

Were his lashes always this long?

Chishiya knew he should have left you. Your plan most likely would have worked, assuming the shooter was trying to rack up as many victims as they could, you would've been safe hiding until they walked past.

However, seeing the blood slicking your clothes, he could feel himself tensing. He couldn't leave this to a probability. A dozen different scenarios went through his head—all of them with you, dead. At that moment, his caution was thrown in the wind. You couldn't die. Not there, not then.

He was so used to having you around him that the thought of you dying never really crossed his mind. Would he simply go on? Would he grieve? He didn't want to dwell on the thought. This was the one thing he didn't mind not knowing—what he would do after you.

"You'll be fine," Chishiya said finally, security the bandage around your torso. "Rest up."

"I'm fine now," you said stubbornly. You tried to push yourself off of the ground, but the room spun around you. You fell, lying down on the floor with your hand on your eyes, groaning.

"You lost a lot of blood. Get some rest."

When you woke up much later, there were a fresh, clean jacket, a bottle of water, and a couple cans of food by your side.

"How are you feeling?" He asked.

[ ]

#chishiya x reader #chishiya shuntaro x reader

[mooshywrites]

Echoes of Love and Loss ~ Pt 4

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art Commissions

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A/N - This is the second to last part! Because of that, I’m taking suggestions for another series since I really enjoy this format. Shoot me a DM or send in a request if you have a good prompt <3

Word count - 4.1K

Warnings - Lots of angst, grieving, pregnancy, miscommunication, happy ending incoming I promise

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Part 2 ~ NSFW

Part 3

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“I have to find her”

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Your days began to blur together in a haze of numbness. You’d long since shed all of the tears and felt all of the grief you could muster. All that was left was your survival instinct pushing you forward.

It took a considerably shorter amount of time to return to the Druids grove where you began your adventure, the road from Baldur’s Gate being far more safe now that The Absolute was gone.

Every settlement you passed through was filled with people celebrating. Their cheers and drunken ramblings washed over you without another thought, completely oblivious of what you had lost bringing them this new victory.

When you finally made it to the outskirts of the grove, something stopped you. You were so close. Close enough to even hear the faint chatter of the Druids that lived there.

But there seemed to be some sort of invisible wall between you and them. A heavy stone keeping you grounded from taking the few steps forward.

What would you say when the other Druids inevitably asked about Halsin? Would you be able to handle their unease and pity when it came to your condition? Would they see as you as anything more than the so-called hero who let their friend die?

You gritted your teeth, clutching at your chest as your heart began to pound. The world felt as if it was spinning as the turmoil hit you once again. You swallowed back bile, knowing you had only made your health worse by pushing yourself to get here more quickly.

With a few solidifying breaths, you sighed and turned away. You couldn’t stay here.

There was a small hut in the woods north of the grove. That would have to do for now.

The walk there was short, you might’ve even enjoyed the weather if the situation you found yourself in didn’t continue to bear down on you painfully. When the hut came into view, you grimaced.

It was… definitely a fixer-upper.

It was probably for the best, you’d have something to focus on. You could work through the day to make it a suitable home for you and the baby instead of wallowing in your grief.

You had to be strong for the little one after all.

You began work right away, throwing your bag on a rotted wooden table and surveying the inside of the shack. At least the walls seemed strong, the wood stood up to the elements. You could see a few patches that would need to be filled with straw for colder weather, but the wood burning stove in the corner gave you a little bit of hope.

Cobwebs littered the corners, a faint layer of dust settling over the entirety of the one room hut. You peered closer to find a straw broom tucked away, practically calling your name.

You set about cleaning the cabin, determined to make it a safe haven for you and your baby. The dust and cobwebs were easy enough to deal with, and you spent hours scraping the grime off the walls and furniture until you could hardly recognize the shack from when you first entered.

As night fell, you lit the wood burning stove, filling the small space with warmth and the scent of fire. You examined the table and decided it was too far gone, so you set to work constructing a new one from scraps of wood and nails, using the old table as a pattern. You worked tirelessly through the night, the pain in your legs and shoulders a constant reminder of the sacrifices you'd made to get this far.

The end product was definitely not a masterpiece, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride in your lopsided creation.

The days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, the hut began to take shape. You built shelves, repaired the roof, and even managed to create a small loft for you and the little one on the way.

By now, your bump was definitely more noticeable. A healthy swell of your stomach growing now that you were forcing yourself into a healthy diet of at least three meals a day.

With your hut becoming more of a home, you found yourself slipping into a routine. You would wake up early to tend to the garden you'd started behind the place, growing vegetables and herbs that would provide sustenance and comfort.

Afternoons were spent working on the cabin, always striving for perfection despite the humble beginnings. You discovered a sense of peace in the solitary task, even if you mostly didn’t know what you were doing.

As night fell, it was harder to ignore the ache of loneliness and loss that settled in your chest. You would try to ease the pain by humming a song to your growing bump or reciting all the children stories you knew out loud.

To your delight, sometimes you would even feel a flutter of recognition when you sang, a tiny stirring in your womb. It was barely perceptible, very much not a kick yet, but it was still a comforting reminder that you weren’t totally alone.

As the weeks turned into months, the hut became a testament to your strength and resilience. The once-dilapidated structure had blossomed into a cozy home, with warm lighting in the evenings and shelves laden with the vegetables and herbs you'd grown in your garden. A sense of contentment washed over you as you looked around your little sanctuary, realizing that no matter the heartache and loss, you had managed to build a life for yourself despite the circumstances you faced.

The days seemed to stretch into an endless cycle of gardening and remedying, and soon enough, you could feel the baby moving more frequently within you. The sensation was both reassuring and overwhelming, filling you with a mix of love and fear for the little person growing inside of you.

One morning, as you were picking vegetables from your garden, you caught a faint glimpse of movement at the edge of the woods. Your instincts kicked in, and you darted back to the door, retrieving the sword you kept hidden. It was probably long since dulled from not being used, but it was better than having nothing.

No one came close to this part of the woods, even with its close proximity to the Grove. It seemed you had found your own little patch of solitude and you were weary of having your first visitor since you moved in months ago.

You focused in on the movements at the tree line, your shoulders tight. A figure shambled out of the greenery and you choked out a breathless laugh of relief.

“I thought I might find you nearby.” Shadowheart giggled, calling out across the short clearing.

“What on earth are you doing here?” You smiled, relaxing your posture. “You gave me a scare.”

She gave you a bright smile as she approached, taking stock of your now very obvious baby bump.

“I couldn’t help but trying to check on you. The others and I got an invitation from Withers for a reunion.” Shadowheart said with a shrug.

“The others?” You prodded uneasily. You looked toward’s the tree line again, worried they would come crashing through as well.

“Relax.” Shadowheart assured, her smile a little sad. “I told them what you wanted me to. They don’t know a thing about your ‘miraculous survival’.”

“Oh, good.” You sighed, brushing yourself off. “Want to come in? I could scrounge up a breakfast for you.” You tried to keep the hopefulness out of your voice, mildly embarrassed by how excited you felt at the thought of having someone else to talk to.

“Sure,” Shadowheart grinned. “I‘ll ask you what I came to ask you over some food.”

You stepped back, allowing Shadowheart to enter the hut. It was cozy and warm, the wood burning stove crackling in the corner. She looked around in amazement. “You did all this?” she asked, looking at the handmade furniture and shelves laden with herbs and vegetables.

“Yes,” you said, wiping your sweaty palms on your pants. “I’ve been keeping myself busy.”

Shadowheart approached your makeshift table, running her hands along the rough surface. “It’s beautiful.” she murmured, looking at you with awe.

“Thanks.” You smiled shyly,

“So, how are you holding up?” She asked, sitting down on a hand-built stool. “And how’s the baby?”

“I’m doing okay.” You sighed, sitting across from the woman. “The baby is too. Although it’s grown so much that I can’t see my feet anymore.”

“You must be getting close then.”

“Mhm.” You responded, not offering anything else. You weren’t keen on discussing the actual birth. You still hadn’t decided on whether it was responsible to handle it on your own or not. In truth, you were completely out of your depth.

“So what is it you wanted to ask me?” You changed the subject with a grin.

Shadowheart’s face became guarded and she paused for a moment, as if trying to piece the words together.

“I want you to come with me to the reunion.” She whispered.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the words hung in the air.

“You can’t live alone forever.” Shadowheart continued after a moment of silence. “This place is wonderful and I’m glad you’re doing as well as you are, but you can’t force yourself into solitude.”

“Stop.” You cut her off, feeling the telltale dull ache of a migraine coming on. “You already know my answer.”

“Please, at least think about it.” Shadowheart pleaded, reaching across the table for your hand.

“Stop.” You repeated, slipping your hand away from her grasp. “Just stop.”

You felt tears threatening to well in your eyes and you cursed the hormones that made the tears so easy to spill.

“I’m not facing them. Not after losing Halsin.”

“But.” Shadowheart started before you cut her off with your hand.

“My answer is no.” You snapped before your voice softened. “I think you should leave.”

You adverted Shadowheart’s pointed gaze, feeling her eyes bore into you still. With a sigh, she nodded slowly. You looked back to see a mix of disappointment and understanding across her features.

She stood up and walked over to the door, her gaze still locked on you.

“I understand. Please know I’m here for you if you ever change your mind.” She said softly before leaving.

You watched her go through the open doorway, the silhouette of her figure disappearing into the dense forest. The words she’d said hung in the air, making you feel a twinge of guilt. There was probably a softer way to handle that conversation. A compromise you could have made.

For a moment you sat at the table in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the empty doorway. Your mind was whirling, trying to understand your own feelings and determine what was best for your tiny family.

It was a delicate balance, trying to protect your baby without pushing your grief and expectations onto it.

You took a deep breath and stood up, picking up your gardening tools once again.

There was no time for such idle thoughts.

After all. There were carrots to pick.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

As Halsin trudged his way toward’s the Druid’s grove, he couldn’t help but focus on the nagging sense of dread that filled his body. He had spent months looking for you, asking everyone he saw in Baldur’s Gate whether they had seen anyone of your description.

But the answer was the same every time, always a no. The letters to his past companions remained unanswered, his messaging spell falling on deaf ears.

The Druid almost felt as if he was a ghost, a memory of what he once was that no one could really see. He tried to make sense of it, maybe everyone truly thought he had died in that ocean. Maybe they thought his letters sent by some sort of imposter.

Halsin gritted his teeth, trying to will himself to think of other matters. He needed to find you.

All Halsin could see when he thought of you was the look of pure terror on your face as he hurtled over the edge of the Elder Brain. The silent scream ripping from your throat as he lost view of you. He needed to replace that with something.

With anything.

More than anything, Halsin wanted to replace it with the sight of your smile when you finally saw him again.

Halsin felt weak as he continued to lumber along the path, too weak to even shift into his cave bear form, though he’d be much more comfortable traveling that way.

He hadn’t been focusing on his own needs lately, skipping sleep and meals to focus on finding you again. He was out of options now, and all he could hope was to find some sort of hint of your whereabouts from his fellow Druids.

As Halsin reached the grove, his heart raced with anticipation and desperation. He took a deep breath and stepped through the entrance, scanning the faces of his fellow druids with hope-filled eyes.

One by one, he approached each of them, greeting them with a warm smile and asking if they knew of any adventurers who had disappeared recently or anyone who might be looking for a missing companion.

The Druids, surprised to see him well… alive and seemingly pained by Halsin's persistence to change the subject , shook their heads and offered sympathetic words. They hadn’t seen you pass through

Halsin's hope began to dwindle with each negative response, his heart aching with every new face that met his eyes. He felt the dread building inside him once more, suffocating him as he trudged further into the grove.

Suddenly, a familiar sound caught his attention. A laugh. A laugh he knew well but couldn’t seem to place it in his weary state.

He blindly followed the sound, brushing by people as he tried to find the source. Finally, a brown haired man came into view, the figure laughing at whatever the man in front of him was saying.

Halsin stumbled as he finally placed the voice.

“Gale?” Halsin murmured.

Gale spun around, the wizard raising his eyebrows in surprise. He reached out to steady himself by holding onto Wyll’s arm, his face paled as if he was looking into the eyes of a ghost.

“Halsin?” Gale whispered, his eyes wide.

Wyll mouth hung agape as he looked at Halsin, seemingly unable to fathom that the Druid was now standing before him. That he was alive after his fall into the murky depths.

“Halsin! By the gods, it is you!” Gale exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace the Druid, his eyes shining with disbelief and joy. Wyll stood beside him, a mix of shock and relief etched across his features.

Halsin returned the embrace warmly, feeling a rush of emotions flood through him at the sight of his old companions. It was a moment he had dreamt about during his long search, but he never dared to pause long enough to hope for.

“How? How are you here?” Wyll stuttered out, still trying to process the unexpected reunion.

Halsin took a step back, a smile spreading across his face. “It's a long story,” he began, “but seeing you both here is a sign that Silvanus has brought us back together.”

Gale clapped Halsin on the shoulder, his eyes bright with excitement. “You have no idea how much we've missed you, old friend. We thought we had lost you for good after that nasty tumble.”

“I tried to write.” Halsin muttered, a teasing tone of annoyance in his voice.

“Would you have answered a letter from someone you thought dead?” Wyll asked incredulously.

“Perhaps not.” Halsin chuckled, pulling the Duke into a hug.

The reunion lifted some of the weight that had been pressing down on Halsin for so long, if only for a moment. The two men before him began chattering on endlessly about what they had been up to, their adventures and misadventures.

But amidst the talking, a shadow continued to loom in Halsin’s mind. He couldn’t shake the thought of you, the one he had really set out to find in the first place. Despite the happiness of being back with his companions, he really only wanted to see one person. There were so many things he wanted to say. so many promises he wanted to make.

“I’m sorry to interrupt.” Halsin cut off the conversation for a moment, looking between both Gale and Wyll. “But is Tav with you? I’ve been looking for her everywhere, but it seems no one has seen even a glimpse of her.”

Gale and Wyll exchanged uneasy glances. Wyll cast his eyes off to the side, taking in a deep breath as Gale fidgeted uncomfortably.

Halsin couldn’t help but feel his stomach start to turn at the reaction. Unease starting to mix with agitation.

“Well?” He pressed.

“Halsin…” Wyll started, throwing Gale one more glance. “I think this is something we should speak of in private.”

Halsin’s eyebrows furrowed, unease quickly being replaced with dread. Whatever they had to say couldn’t at all be good. Not with the way Gale’s teeth ground tight and Wyll’s hands wrung against each other.

“No. Tell me now.” The Druid demanded.

“I really think-“ Gale started.

“She didn’t make it in the crash.” Wyll said quietly.

Halsin felt the world around him crumble at Wyll's words. The ground beneath his feet seemed to shift, the air around him growing heavy and suffocating.

You were gone.

The realization hit him like a physical blow, knocking the breath from his lungs.

His mind raced, trying to process the devastating words. You, the one he had searched for tirelessly, the one he had longed to see again, were no more? The image of your smile, your unwavering determination, your fierce loyalty flashed before his eyes, each memory twisting the knife of grief deeper into his heart.

Wyll's voice sounded distant as he continued to speak, explaining the details of your fate in the crash. Halsin felt as if he were trapped in a nightmare, unable to wake up from the cruel reality that had caught him.

Gale's hand on his shoulder brought him back to the present moment. The wizard's eyes pained. “You should talk to Shadowheart. She was the one to see it.”

Halsin's mind reeled, his heart heavy with grief and disbelief over your loss. The world around him seemed to blur as he struggled to come to terms with the crushing reality of your absence. Despite the comforting presence of Gale and Wyll, their words felt like a distant echo in the overwhelming silence that engulfed him.

Numbly, Halsin nodded at Gale's suggestion to speak with Shadowheart. He knew he needed answers, needed closure. Nothing else would convince him that he truly lost you. With leaden steps, he made his way through the grove, his thoughts a whirlwind of memories and shattered hopes.

When he finally found Shadowheart, she looked at him with utter shock. The two stood looking at each other in silence for a moment, rendered speechless for very different reasons.

“Halsin? But I thought you… but the crash…” Shadowheart stuttered, trying to make sense of the situation.

“Is she really gone?” Halsin choked out.

Shadowheart’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion before realization dawned on her. Halsin’s eyes stayed glued to the ground below him, not seeing the conflicted emotions playing across Shadowheart’s expression.

“I think you need a healer.” Shadowheart whispered softly.

Halsin shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “No healer can mend this kind of wound,” he replied hoarsely, his voice thick with grief. The thought of you bore down on him like a heavy cloak, suffocating him with memories of shared moments and unspoken words.

Shadowheart’s gaze softened with sympathy as she reached out to touch Halsin’s arm.

“You need a healer.” She repeated. “Rest and heal tonight. I’ll…” She paused, her face twisting in concentration as she was obviously conflicting with her thoughts. “I’ll take you to where we set up a shrine for her. But not until you’ve had some rest.”

Halsin felt a mix of gratitude and reluctance at Shadowheart's offer. The idea of seeking solace in a makeshift gravesite sounded like a temporary respite, a bandage on a wound that cut deep into his soul. But he knew he needed to gather his strength, to find a way to honor your memory even with the weight of your absence heavy in his heart.

As the night descended upon the grove, Halsin found himself alone in the quiet darkness, surrounded by the hushed whispers of nature. Memories of you flooded his mind, each one a bittersweet reminder of what once was and what could have been. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had failed you somehow, that he should have been there to protect you from whatever fate had befallen you.

Tears welled up in Halsin's eyes as he sat beneath the starlit sky, a silent prayer whispered into the night for your spirit to find peace wherever it may roam. That wherever you had passed on to would have a view of the same stars he gazed upon now.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

You awoke with a stretch, rubbing the ache out of your hips softly. It took a little more effort to get out of bed with your bump, your center of gravity becoming difficult to gauge.

With a yawn, you looked out the small open window, taking in the bright peace of the morning. Birds sang throughout the trees, melody winding through the sound of the leaves in the wind.

You let your eyes flutter shut as you ground yourself, inhaling the faintly sweet scent of wildflowers. You started most mornings off this way, determined to start the day with positive and uplifting thoughts.

That and because the serenity of nature made you feel closer to Halsin without the painful ache of longing.

You shuffled off the small bed, stretching once more. You had definitely overslept today, your morning chores would be getting a much later start than usual.

You went about your morning routine with a sense of purpose, softly chiding the swell of your belly to not make the day too hard on it’s mother.

Your mind drifted away as you worked, absentmindedly wondering whether the baby would be a boy or a girl. You’d heard old wives tales about whether the bump sat low or high correlating to the gender, but you really couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter too much in the end, all you could hope for was a safe delivery.

While you were tidying your makeshift kitchen, you heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching the cabin door. You left it open during the day, letting the cool forest air in. It would be impossible to miss any movement with it open, your ears too trained to sense change.

You sighed, figuring it was Shadowheart trying to convince you to join the land of the living once again. You tried to steel yourself, silently promising to be a little more agreeable this time even if your answer hadn’t changed.

“It’s still a no, Shadowheart, I don’t-“

You turned to the doorway and your words caught in your throat.

You stood absolutely still and silent, sure that your eyes were playing tricks on you.

Could it be possible? There in your doorway…

There stood Halsin.

You clutched at your chest, taking a tentative step back as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing. Halsin’s expression seemed to match your own. Silence, tense and heavy settling between you.

“Halsin?” You whispered, your voice cracking with uncertainty.

He stood there in the doorway, his gaze locked with yours, a mix of similar emotions seeming to swirl in his own eyes. The weight of his presence in the room felt palpable, like a storm brewing on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury.

You felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over you - disbelief, hope, confusion. How could he be here after all this time? After everything that had happened? Your heart pounded in your chest, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken barrier.

Halsin took a hesitant step forward, as if afraid that any sudden movement would shatter the fragile moment hanging between you. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke your name, as if testing the reality of the situation.

You found yourself at a loss for words, your mind reeling with questions and doubts. Was this some trick of fate, a cruel illusion playing with your heart? Or was he truly standing before you, his towering figure all too large for the tiny doorframe you had made your life in?

Halsin’s eyes remained glued to yours as you stood, his lips parted as he seemed to search for the words he wanted to say. His eyes flitted to the ground before he went rigid.

You watched, breath caught in your throat as Halsin’s gaze locked onto your stomach.

Onto the soft swell of his child growing inside of you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Part 5 ~ End

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

#halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x you #halsin fanfic #halsin fanfiction #halsin romance #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin smut #halsin series #daddy halsin #halsin fic #baldurs gate halsin #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 series #bg3 series #halsin silverbough #halsin fluff #bg3 fluff #bg3 smut #baldurs gate 3 fluff #baldurs gate 3 smut #baldurs gate 3 x reader #bg3 x reader #tav x halsin #reader x halsin #you x halsin

[dragonlands]

There's so much negativity around Izzy's death so I wanted to address some of the points I keep seeing thrown around.

"Izzy's death was pointless"

No, he just had his big speech about how basically they can kill him but they cannot kill the movement. That is a clear paraller to a lot of real life protestors of unjustice. He died protecting the community, he died so the community could go on.

"Izzy's death made his healing pointless"

No it didn't. Healing is always good, feeling happiness and belonging are ALWAYS worth it. We never know how long we've got, doesn't mean we gotta stop trying to be better or happier. His healing was still real. It still mattered.

"Izzy's character arc was left unfinished, it's bad writing"

Oh my god. If you open any writing guide about how to write impactful deaths, and the first thing that comes up is to leave some part of their arc unfinished. And his arc did go through quite a beautiful line, sure there could've been more but his story didn't end like, mid arc. As a writer, of course you want to make the audience sad when a character dies. It's good storytelling. Good stories are supposed to make us feel.

"Izzy died on the arms of his abuser"

Where the hell did this idea come from? Ed and Izzy have been in a toxic codependent relationship way before this show started. You could argue that Izzy was Ed's abuser, but that is not the argument I want to make here. Yes, we saw Ed driven to madness shoot Izzy on screen, but we know Izzy's the one that forced him to be Blackbeart when he didn't want it anymore. There's turmoil all around them. But the final moment is them finally meeting as people, not as components of Blackbeard.

"Izzy's death was unnecessarily awful"

His death was sad, yes, but it was quite beautiful as far as deaths go. He was surrounded by family who cared for him. He was loved, and accepted as he is. He knew his legacy will be carried on.

"They killed off the only character that showed us healing is never too late"

Did we watch the same show? That begins with then unhappy 40+ year old Stede deciding it's finally time to reach for his dreams? Where we see Blackbeard slowly gaining back his humanity? Where Black Pete starts off as toxically masculine dude but ends up in a soft gay marriage? Where most of the crew wanted to mutiny but then they realized being soft is good, actually. Jim's whole purpose in life being revenge but them learning to let that go and instead concentrate on love and fun and family. And so on. Izzy's arc is beautiful, but he's not the only person healing who thought it was too late already.

"Izzy's death was bury your gays trope"

No, what, no. In a pirate show where everyobody is queer some queer people will die. Bury your gays is about only having one or few queer characters and killing them off while the straights get their happily ever afters. This is so far from that.

Also, I want people to be aware of the phenomenon, where creators of diverse shows are subjected to more critism than those of non diverse shows. If this intrests you, Sarah Z on Youtube made a great video on it called Double standards and diverse media. Our flag means death has given us so much, queer love story with a happily ever after, finding community, nonbinary character. And the creators have always been so kind to fans, so let's show them tht kindness back. Because critizicing this one aspect can easily turn to seeming like the whole story is just unwanted. That stories like Ed and Stede's aren't worth telling. And I'm so aftraid that will happen, when just now for the first time in years we are finally getting queer stories.

Also, I understand people are sad. I am sad too - Izzy was an amazing character and his death was sad but that's just. Good writing. You can grieve, but trying to turn it into a moral or dramaturgy issue is just not a good look. And attacking the creators of this wonderful show is just horrible.

Remember - this fandom is a safe space ship 🏴‍☠️🏳️‍🌈

#ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #ofmd izzy #blackbonnet #gentlebeard

[littleblackraincloudofcourse]

My thoughts on the lives and deaths of the House of Usher

Prospero - I almost feel sorry for Perry. His ideas weren't bad and unlike his siblings he was doing them himself. I also found it hilarious when he tried to fuck his brother wife. If nothing else that kid had confidence. Fredrick was dick to both of them anyway and she deserved to have fun. If you remove the blackmail and acid rain and that would have been one hell of a party.If Perry hadn't been planning to blackmail everyone he wouldn't have deserved his death. But his death was EXQUISITE. Everything about that scene was so perfect I can't find words to describe it. Everyone involved in creating that scene deserves an award

Camille - We actually got to know very little about her. Her whole story was about finding dirty on the others and managing crisis for the family. Even her death isn't shown. I think the point was that she never got to just be. She lived and died for others but never connected with anyone.

Napoleon - Leo was to me the closest to likable of any of the siblings. He clearly loved them and that may have been the only love he way capable of. He certainly didn't love his boyfriend or anyone he had/was having sex with. He treated people like objects. His death is tricky to categorize. On one side what he did to Pluto was horrifying and anyone who treats animals that way deserves the same fate. But he never actually did any of those things. It was all hallucinations and illusions first from drugs then Verna. He was stressed and grieving and kept finding dead animals everywhere. I would be ready to smash walls in that situation too. He definitely didn't need to be a pet owner but I think his death should have been less torturous

Victorine - I wrote this one last because it was my favorite Poe story growing up and she played it beautifully. That slow steady decent into madness I should have hated this character most of all. Those poor chimps and who knows what other innocent creatures she killed with experiments she knew wouldn't work. Even with her father constantly pushing for progress she should have stopped. Verna gave her so many chances, she wasn't even there when Vic killed her girlfriend or herself. She could have stopped at any point. Yes she still would have died but it could have been painless and less tragic. T'Nia Miller's performance was so good that I actually felt sad for her in that final scene. At least until I thought of the chimps again.

Tamerlane - Knock off Madeleine. Where her sisters hid and guarded their personalities she never had one. Her entire existence was for appearances (hence the ridiculous amount of mirrors). Even when she tries to show emotion she couldn't look at the person she was talking to. Her death might have seemed the most passive but it was shoot beautifully. It was also the only thing she actively accomplished on her own.

Fredrick - Fuck you Frodrick. When his siblings said he was just like their father they didn't even realize how right they were. He might have been worse. His poor wife deserved so much better. I genuinely enjoyed watching the pendulum swinging towards him as he was paralyzed beneath it. I only wish there was more than one so he could feel more pain. He was so much a piece of shit Verna enjoyed killing him. Everyone else got warnings, chances to walk away and have peaceful deaths But this asshole, she knew he didn't deserve one. He got exactly what he deserved. Lying in a puddle of his own piss waiting to die. Seriously fuck that guy

Lenore - This sweet brave girl was the only good the Ushers ever brought into the world. So pure and good even Verna mourned having to take her. I loved that she got to know how much good she put into the world and how many lives she saved. Even knowing from the beginning she would die, it was still heartbreaking to see. At least it was painless and instant

Madeleine - She was cold and selfish but she was also usually right. I respect that even when making a deal with the devil she still had standards. She at least made sure not to have children incase. There is a bit of irony in the fact she didn't want to spend her life serving a man then chaining her destiny to her brother. Gave of serious twincest vibes that I am glad where not explored. Her death seemed a fair balance for her past and mirroring her mother's death brought everything full circle. She fell with the house of Usher. Also sapphire is a good color for her.

Roderick - Without doubt the worst of them all. He knowingly killed millions with his drug. He destroyed any shred of humanity in his children. Possibly worst of all, he knew the damage he was causing and who would have to pay for it but he didn't even blink. Being mentally tortured by his dead children was not enough. He deserved the worst death of all. I understand the poetry of him dying the same way his father did but I wish he suffered more.

#the fall of the house of usher #tfothou spoilers #mike flanagan #edgar allan poe #when i said i was obsessed i wasn't exaggerating

[icarustypicalfall]

December

Alejandro Vargas x reader

masterpost • Ao3

Summary: And only when you feel like there is nothing left, you'll find me waiting for you, I'll make it feel like home.

Or

Where Alejandro comes home, because home is you.

Warnings: SFW, bath scene, sweet fluff <3

Note: I die for the unsexual ways of showing intimacy. I tried a new style, not really sure of it, but i just love this trope; where A washes B's hair and takes care of them in a non sexual way, and they are both comfortable and happy :( <3

“Be still my foolish heart

Don't ruin this on me”

The journey from the base to home was long, uncomfortable, and, above all, tiring. Alejandro shifted, letting out a deep sigh as he rubbed his eyes, careful not to touch the still numb cut on his forehead.

The medics had urged him to get his wounds stitched up, or at the very least, checked. But he dismissed it as pointless, with only one thing on his mind: coming home to you.

As soon as the debriefing ended, he hopped into the nearest car, beckoning Rudy and some other vaqueros to join him. A younger member, barely awake, asked, "Where are we going, colonel?" Alejandro gazed at the purple sky with a knowing smile and replied, "Home."

Home.

Alejandro was the colonel, but that didn't mean he didn't care. If anything, he was the exact opposite. He checked on every member, praising some and ordering others to go straight to their family houses to rest. Los Vaqueros were his family, he celebrated their joy and grieved their sorrow as his own.

Even in his most exhausted moments, Alejandro never forgot about his long-time friend and second in command, Rudy. He made sure Rudy reached his family, sain et sauf after every mission, as he had done for the past twenty years.

Alejandro sighed, stopping at the side of the road to check his phone after the last vaquero had left. The background was a selfie of you and him, licking ice cream under the moonlit sky.

You never understood why he liked this picture so deerly, he's been gazing at it for the last two years, whenever he was away from you. As if your sweet smile comforted him and buried his dark thoughts somewhere only you knew.

If anything, it was a sweet picture, tongues out, wide grins, your hair sticking to your foreheads, a proof of the swimming session you two had beforehand.

He remembered it perfectly—the day you got married. Instead of going home, he insisted on going to the beach to have your own celebration. It was surprisingly warm and deserted. Time didn't matter to you—three in the morning. You danced, swirled, and swam in the dark water with your dress on.

To hell with makeup and his suit.

All you wanted was a laugh and a kiss under the moonlit sky. And you never found it lacking, not once, after meeting him.

You were both madly in love. Two fools swimming in an ocean of sanity and adoration. You completed each other. You longed for each other.

Alejandro reached home after the long journey. His muddy boots left traces on the doorstep as he fumbled for his keys, trying to be discreet. It was almost midnight, and he didn't want to wake you—or any of the neighbors.

Before the key even grazed the hole, the door slowly unlocked.

You gazed at Alejandro with a calm smile on your face and uttered, "Welcome home, colonel."

You were silent, still. Gazing at the astonished man. You promised, never quitting this habit of waiting for him.

He complained, nonsense about how you should rest and let him surprise you and bla-bla-bla.

You didn't give in his pleas, not even once.

You were always waiting at the doorstep, every ounce in your body craved a glimpse of your beloved husband.

Alejandro grinned, stepping inside and letting his bag fall to his side. His arms found their way to your sides, sweeping you off your feet and crashing you into his chest as he murmured, feeling a sense of peace wash over him, “Mi mondo… mi todo...”

The embrace was a burning fire, melting both of you into one. Alejandro closed the door with a kick of his heel, slowly stepping into the warm flat.

You cupped his cheek, running your thumb over the cut on his temple. He winced slightly, his eyes shutting before he uttered, "It's nothing...mi amor."

You shook your head, knowing his stubbornness was just a cover to hide his pain. Not because he was afraid of being vulnerable to you, he simply didn't want you to worry. He wished for you to live your ultimest youth, without a single cloud of onus to disturb your shining sun and skies.

You were a Phoenix to him, healing every scar and cut with your gentle touch and soft whispers.

"Come with me."

You guided him upstairs to the bathroom.

The room was hot, steamy with fog clouds floating around you. The black marbelic walls were covered with small beads of water vapor, slowly racing down to the ground.

Alejandro leaned against the door, resting his against the hard material with a long and tired sigh.

You checked the water temperature, motioning for him to climb in the tub. He steeped closer, gazing at the surface of the colorless liquid. His face emerged, and he couldn't help but chuckle. He cupped your cheeks, smiling wearily. "Mi amor, you didn't have to..."

"I wanted to..."

You ran him a warm bath, filled with devotion to the brim.

Just the way he liked it, with oils and conditioner that he enjoyed smelling on you. Alejandro adored every detail about you. Somehow, you had captured his mind and soul within your hands. Your little gestures only served to deepen his affection.

You helped him take off his dirty, blood-soaked clothes—thankfully not his own. The military uniform fell to the floor, followed by his torn shirt. He sighed deeply, shivering slightly as your hands trailed over his scarred skin, the cold sensation leaving goosebumps in its wake.

He remembered when he brought you to the beach, embarrassed about his battle scars, thinking you'd be disgusted by the cuts on his skin. But instead, you cradled his flesh with merciful tenderness, Washing away his worries through kisses scattered on his back. He held back his tears, letting you heal his skin and carve a lasting memory in his mind.

Back to reality, Alejandro smiled at you, his eyebrows furrowing in question at your grinning face. He was wearing cat-printed shorts, and you couldn't help but laugh as he blushed slightly.

There was no tension, no other thoughts, not at this moment at the very least. This precious moment was too good, too perfect to be tainted and corrupted by any sin, even if it wasn't a wrongdoing anyway. He saw it no other way, and neither did you. You helped him wash away the weariness of duty, making him feel at home. Could he ask for more?

Alejandro slowly submerged himself under the water, his head lazily resting on the edge of the tub. He gazed at you, silently observing your every movement. He missed this, missed you deeply. No words could express how desperately he longed for your presence.

You held the shampoo bottle, scooping some product into your hands before lathering it into his now wet hair. He shivered, letting out a contented sigh. You massaged his shoulders, washing away the aches of war and leaving nothing but love that cascaded down his shoulders like honey.

Silence filled the house, the only sounds audible were the hushed breaths he took and the occasional dripping of water from the sink. Finally, wrapped in a large towel and smelling of fresh grass and vanilla, Alejandro sat on the edge of the tub as you searched for band-aids in the small box. He chuckled wearily as you placed a green plaster on his temple.

Standing between his legs, you cupped his face, examining his very being before whispering silently, "I love you, thank you for coming back."

Taken aback, he kissed you, your lips intertwining in a gentle embrace of madness before he uttered, "Thank you for waiting, mi todo."

It was around 2 am, as you lay in bed. The scent of warm chumpurados filled the room, igniting in his soul and heart a longing for home. But, would he complain? He was indeed at home, for his heart and mind resided with you.

Alejandro placed his mug on the nightstand before resting his head on your thigh. You ran your fingers through his dark locks, gently caressing his hair.

Alejandro leaned in, murmuring nonsensical words against your limb. His gratitude was beyond imagination. Without you, he would be lost, despondent. He found his missing piece with you, you little thief, stealing his heart and claiming it as your own. He didn't mind in the slightest, willing to sacrifice his very essence for your sake.

Silently, you asked, "Is something on your mind, mi amor?"

He whispered instantly, his fingers intertwining with your form in a tenderness that would make the clouds shy away. "You... mi cielo."

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you broke the silence once more. "I know, mi amor. I meant, is there anything bothering you?"

"No. Nothing at all.. when I am with you, I am so much happier…”

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