#every single time there's a beacon i am just gone

[mollymauktealeef]

clamity title card:

my essek rotted brain:

#critical role #critical role spoilers #exuc #cr2 #essek thelyss #it took far too long for me to regain my attention span after that #i perked up like a motherfucking meerkat #every single time there's a beacon i am just gone #i miss my boy #jask rambles

[appleblueberry-pie]

Diamond Buried in the Dirt

He felt his lips purse on their own when your aura swarmed the room. He felt his spine strain slightly, his arms and legs flinching at the feeling of you approaching his home of worship. He knew something was different, even when you weren't in the room. He could feel your spirit and mind connecting with his own as if they already knew each other.

His lips parted slightly when you entered, eyes fixated on your form only. But even with all of these emotions and feelings you caused him to feel, you seemed to not feel the energy in the slightest. Were you just that powerful? He watched you sigh, displeased as you walk up to where he laid. Your walk was a sign of power, even with the slump in your shoulders, face aligned with the ground. From what he could see, he could make out your beauty, a sight to behold. Why were you here? What brought you here? How come he has never met you before? He couldn't tell you that you didn't need to kneel on the dirty carpet the other monkeys did the same on, his voice unresponsive and seemingly disconnected with his mind.

You slowly placed your knees on the ground, tucking your feet underneath your butt and sitting. Your hands rested on your thighs as you finally spoke up. "Geto-sama." His followers were silent, smiling and ignorant. It was easier to ignore then and to single you out from the rest of them, especially when you sounded like this. Felt like this.

"I have a confession to make," You blink a few times to gather the courage to speak some more. Years of suffering, years of being called delusional and crazy. How are you supposed to admit it all to some random man who probably doesn't know what you're talking about? Something pulled you to him, though. You could feel his energy, you could see his aura. Maybe there was a hope that he was similar to you? That he could actually help you?

"I've been seeing things.....strange things." You sigh quietly. "Since I was a small child, monsters have been cursing my vision. Everywhere I go, almost every single day, I am...disturbed with their presence." You finally look up at him. He sees your humility, your emotions and fear in your eyes. Your energy almost seems to wrap around his throat, making it hard for him to breathe as you continue.

"I feel as if i am a beacon, because I continue to attract these monsters wherever I run. They talk to me, try to hurt me sometimes. I see them hurt others and I tried to get rid of them, but it never ends. No one believes me when I say they're on their shoulders or when it kills them slowly. They always find a way back to me. No matter how much I try to hide my presence and my- my...." You raise your hands to show what you hope he can see. Your cursed energy surrounds your being, and he knows that you can see his, the way your eyes watch the outline of his body that it lingers around. "I don't know anything. I don't know if I'm fucking crazy, if there's a name for it, if you can see it, or if there are anymore like me. I just," You pause and shake your head, looking around at the still people surrounding you. "I just wanted to know if I could ever have a chance at a normal life. And be free......because I am so....so alone."

"An angel like you doesn't deserve the suffering and pain you have gone through." His lips almost seemed to move on his own and he watches your face switch to one of confusion. "You are so much more divine and ethereal than you believe." Geto feels excitement rush through his veins at the thought of another person he could finally connect with on a personal level. Someone pure to set his mind and even his planned new world free. One where he could have someone like you on his side. By his side. He sees a future in your eyes that makes him more determined than ever to have you in his arms. There is so much for you to know and learn. And when he teaches you everything you need to know, he knows you'll be everything he's ever wanted. Now standing, he holds his hand out. The look in his eyes as he stares down at you makes you believe that this guy is either the real deal or he is the biggest scam you've ever put your money into.

You thought he was reaching out his hand for you to grab and you almost reached out yourself, but then you see energy from all throughout the room collect itself into the palm of his hand in a way that was similar to how you manifest your energy sometimes. The realization makes your heart jump and you leap to your feet at the sight. Geto smiles brightly at you. "You are not alone." A large weight that you didn't know was on your heart lifts and you feel your body lighten like never before. He was just like you. He was just like you! You crack a small smile and step back.

"I didn't know it was possible." Geto stops his manipulation technique and steps closer to you. "It's all possible with a blessing like ours." You felt a little awkward when he first grabbed your hand, but a surge of his energy almost seemed to transfer to you and you gasped, pulling it back. "It's okay, it's okay. Just a little playful is all." It almost seemed to linger under your skin and it made your stomach bubble with happiness. "Is there......is there more of us?"

He gestures to behind his curtains. "I have an entire family waiting for me when this is all over. They'd be thrilled to know that there's going to be an addition to the family. There isn't much of us here, but-" "Wait, addition to the family?"

Geto takes another step closer to you, wanting to close the gap. "Of course. An extremely small percentage of shamans are living in this world. There isn't much of us out there and I am willing to go to extreme lengths to create a better world for us who aren't seen and heard. And in order for that to happen, we need people like you on our side. I know it's hard to think about and I apologize profusely for throwing this onto you, but you are needed just like the rest of us."

He could tell he was losing you when he said that. Shit, was he moving too fast? All he wanted was to get to know you better. Maybe it would be better to do this gradually over time. But if he tried to take things slow, who knows when someone else could snatch this opportunity away from him? He needs you to join him and be on his side. Be in his family. His wife. You were perfect for everything he desired.

"I have an entire life outside of....what you're hinting at. I can't just....throw my life away, Geto-sama." And I barely know you, you wanted to add. You took a step back, which made him step forward. "Yes, I understand. Maybe I was being too straightfoward. Maybe you can set up another appointment with me and we can talk about it more in depth if you have more time in the future, if you would like?" His face was calm, but his body language made it seem like he was desperate. You had to think about this from a different perspective.

There is an entire world that you didn't know about. You tried living normally amongst other people, but you were actually a "shaman" who had the ability to get rid of monsters and could see and attract monsters. You assumed if there was a certain percentage of these types of people in the world, there would also be good and bad ones. What was Geto's motive? You actually didn't want to know. He wants you in his "family", found out your potential, has a room full of regular people as his followers and acts as if he's a monk? What does he do with people that aren't "shamans"? Everything about his set up was weird and made you scrunch your knows when you realize what you possibly had gotten yourself into.

You were staring at him. Your stare was stone cold and made his face twist from a fake smile into almost genuine restraint and confusion. Suddenly, you were gone. Space and time continued where you left off and you appeared back home. Geto was left in the room to understand that you had teleported away. When he realized you left, he felt his anger rise. He wouldn't allow you to forget him. He wouldn't allow you to slip out of his fingers either. He needed you and he needed your strength and legacy to continue where he left off if there would ever be a time that that would happen. He would find you if it meant killing all of the dirty roaches that infested this city and will pick you from your safe space to be in his arms. He deserves everything he's ever wanted, and if it's you, then he'll get you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader #yandere x you #yandere character #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #suguru geto #yandere suguru geto #yandere jjk #yandere suguru #yandere geto

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Weiss: We need to get you something casual to wear. Even I don't just have dresses. I have skirts, and jeans and yoga pants.

Jaune: What's wrong with this shirt? It's cotton. It's comfortable.

Weiss: You don't have any other shoes just those heavy boots.

Jaune: What's wrong with my boots? They're comfortable and I know if I have to I can crush somebody's skull with them.

Weiss: Besides the fact they are on my new coffee table? Get some slippers, sandals, or tennis shoes and I'll let the shirt and pants go.

Jaune: I have jeans...

Weiss: One pair? I've seen your closet. Face it. You've gone all hunter with no relaxation.

Jaune: I sleep shirtless in gym shorts. Are you complaining about that? It's not typically something a loving wife tells their husband. 'Put on more clothes.'

Weiss: You also only have one pair of gym shorts. You're so military it would make a Spartan cringe. It's not like you don't have the money for clothes.

Jaune: I've been busy.

Weiss: But now you're not.

Ruby: Ooh! We should dress him up!

Jaune: What am I? A doll?

Weiss: It's settled then.

Jaune: Settled how? Since when are we putting things to a vote. That's not allowed. Everyone has to be onboard.

Ruby: Get democratized.

Weiss: What happened to your onesie? At least you had that. At least it existed even if I am glad you just sleep in gym shorts.

Ruby: Your chest is nice to sleep on. How is it soft and hard at the same time? But we aren't hoofing it around anima anymore and you're not clawing your way back to Vale. Let us dress you up.

Jaune: Again like a doll?

Ruby: Yeah. But you're our doll. Please? For me?

Jaune: *makes the mistake of looking into her eyes, gets up with a sigh*

Weiss: We don't mean right this minute. Good gods.

Jaune: *sits back down* You know where to find me.

Weiss: You have to teach me how to do that Ruby.

Jaune: You both do that to me. You looked at me, folded your arms, and told me to get a psychiatrist and I did.

Weiss: True. But there’s something special about the way Ruby says ‘please? For me?’ Isn’t there? She does it to me too. She’s like ‘I know you like this color of paint for the bedroom but I like this one. Won’t you agree to it? For me?

Ruby: *has this look of 'who? Me? I'm not familiar*

Jaune: As far as I’m concerned you both cheat hard and ruthlessly. How often do you walk around singing in the kitchen while you’re making coffee? You cheat. You both do. You both do it as much as you can get away with and that’s quite a lot. And what am I supposed to do? I’ve got nothing. I have neither defense or offense.

Weiss: How is doing things you love cheating? I happen to sing while I’m doing chores. That’s for me. If you happen to like it, then that is on you. I am talking about how Ruby actively uses her charms to get us both to do what she wants.

Jaune: And I’m just saying you’re not innocent. As soon as you found out it turns me on when you sing you started singing at me all the time.

Weiss: Okay. I did do that.

Jaune: Bangarang. And everyone in this house knows that Ruby just looks up at you with those big silver eyes and asks nicely and gets her wishes granted. Everyone knows that. Especially Ruby. She knows we can’t help ourselves and she knows that we know that she knows. But there’s nothing to be done. What am I going to do to get what I want?

Weiss: You don’t want anything though. You don’t really care what color the annex office gets painted. You hardly care what you eat for dinner. You could probably eat the same thing every day without complaint.

Jaune: That’s exactly what I used to do at Beacon until you moved in with me. I ate the same thing every single day. And you know what? I liked it.

Weiss: You’re schizophrenic. You have to stop with these mentally unwell behaviors. That’s a part of fighting back against your illness. It’s not enough to just take the meds.

Ruby: Yeah, that’s a sign of mental unwellness… You should eat different things…

Jaune: Exactly how long term am I supposed to be thinking here?

Weiss: *Smacks his chest gently with the back of her hand*

Ruby: *much less flirtatiously and aggressively hits the inside of his thigh*

Jaune: And you both abuse me.

Weiss: Oh shut up.

Ruby: Big baby.

#rwby #rwby incorrect quotes #jaune arc #weiss schnee #whiteknight #white knight #motion sickness #ruby rose #lancaster #war of roses #whiterose #white rose

[stars-and-inkpots]

Promise Me | Gale x Reader

Gale accepts his fate so eagerly, and you don't understand why. You don't understand how he can leave everything- how he can leave you behind without hesitation.

Pairing: Gale/Reader

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, can be read as platonic

Notes: I don't have much to say about this one other than that I love Gale a lot and the fact that he just agreed to this in game makes me so sad when I think about it too deeply

Ao3 Link: Promise Me

Word Count: 1,415

When Elminster showed up, in the Underdark no less, to tell Gale that he could earn his Goddess’s forgiveness by effectively killing himself, you could hardly understand it. What made you even more confused, was Gale’s apparent acceptance of the task.

You had tried to interrupt them. You tried to explain how irrational the whole idea was, but Gale only waved away your attempts. He was accepting the task, seemingly eager to be a martyr. 

You expect Gale to change his mind once Elminster leaves. You expect him to tell you that he only agreed so he could get the orb under control. But when Elminster is gone, Gale affirms his choice once more. Nothing you said could change his mind, and he refused to talk on the matter any more for the rest of the night. 

It was cruel of Mystra to ask this of him, and you can’t understand how Gale can’t see this. 

The next morning, Gale acts as though the whole interaction never happened. 

He’s still smiling, still full of sarcastic comments that always seemed to lighten the mood while you all made your way through the Underdark. The next day is much the same. 

Everytime you try to talk to him, he’s conveniently out doing something else, or so busy with his studies that he “absolutely cannot spare a single moment.” As much as you care about him, it’s starting to annoy you just how long he’s willing to continue ignoring you. 

“Glaring at him every time he’s not looking isn’t going to accomplish much, my dear,’ Astarion says quietly. You’ve been walking back to camp for the better half of an hour, and you know you should be paying more attention to what’s around you given how dangerous the Underdark can be. 

“I know,” you grumble. 

“Have you talked with him about it?” The two of you are quiet enough that Gale won’t hear you. 

“No. He’s been avoiding me.” 

“That doesn’t surprise me,” Astarion hums. “I imagine he’s scared.” 

“Of me or blowing up?” You joke, maybe in poor taste, but it’s the first smile you’ve had in a while and Astarion appreciates the humour given the situation.  

“Both, definitely both.” Astarion smiles. “You can be quite scary when you’re angry. Maybe he thinks blowing up will be easier than answering to you.” It’s an awful thing to joke about, you think again, but you laugh anyway because there really is nothing else you can do. “I mean it though, that’s probably why he hasn’t said anything about it. As much as I hate to defend him, I’m sure he’s just trying not to think about it.” 

“You’re being strangely thoughtful, Astarion; dare I say considerate,” you tease. Astarion raises a hand to his chest in mock pain. 

“You wound me, pet. Am I not such a beacon of empathy all of the time?” 

“Alright, alright,” you laugh, loud enough this time for the whole group to hear. You wait a few moments before speaking again, sure that no one is still listening. “I’ll talk to him tonight then. I promise I won’t be too mean to him.” Of course, you couldn’t be mean to the man if you tried. You could be annoyed with Gale all you wanted, but you know that you would never be able to voice that anger. You know the look on Gale’s face would be too much, and you would immediately feel terrible. You know your anger is not truly anger. It’s fear, and it’s sadness. 

---

“Gale, I wanted to talk with you.” You watch as Gale freezes, hand reaching for the book he wasn’t quick enough to pick up before you arrived. 

“Ah, my apologies, I was just about to-” Gale trails off when he finally looks up at you. 

You don’t look angry, you look like you’re already grieving. You can feel the tears that already threaten to fall, and you know they likely will soon. “Gale,” you whisper, because you know your voice can’t handle any more than that without faltering. “Please. I just want to talk.” 

“Alright,” Gale relents. He lets you inside the tent first, sitting down across from him on the organised mess of blankets surrounded by books. He looks guilty when he looks back at you, but he doesn’t say anything yet; you know he’s waiting for whatever you have to say. You can’t bring yourself to look at him yet. 

“I’m sorry,” you start, and Gale is both surprised and confused. “I haven’t been very fair to you. I was so caught up in how I felt about everything that I didn’t consider how you might think of it.” 

Gale expected you to yell; to show some sort of resentment for his apparent acceptance of the terms of his ‘apology’ to Mystra. 

“I know I can’t change your mind. If you decide you want to go through with this, it’s your decision. I just want you to promise me something.” You finally look up at him, and Gale can see you’re crying now. 

“I can try,” Gale answers honestly. He’s never been fond of promises, especially when they could be so easily broken. 

You make a pained sort of noise. “Please. Promise.” You move closer to him, close enough that your knees are touching his. 

“I promise,” Gale decides. He’ll keep this one. If there are any promises he will keep, it has to be this one. You look relieved, but the frown creasing your brow hasn’t left you yet. The expression doesn’t suit you, Gale thinks, having grown accustomed to seeing you smiling so often despite everything. Knowing that he’s the reason for it only serves to make him feel worse. 

“Whenever you decide you’re going to do it, whether you decide that morning or the night before, you have to let me say goodbye. You can’t just leave when no one is looking. You have to tell me. You have to say goodbye to me.” Even though Gale already promised, it still feels like you’re begging him for this. The thought of never knowing when the last time you would see him would be made you sick. If he was going to go through with this, he had to give you this. You had to have the opportunity to say goodbye to him. To see him one last time. 

Gale doesn’t know what to say. He’s made the promise, but he knows it will be easier for himself if he leaves before he can change his mind. He knows that he has to leave well before anyone can hope to catch up with him if he wants any chance that they would be safe from the aftermath. He knows that if he has to face you before he leaves, he’s not going to be able to go through with it. You’ll only make him remember how much he truly doesn’t want to die- how terrified he is of death. 

So instead of saying anything, Gale leans forward and hugs you. 

You’re quick to wrap your arms tightly around him, clutching at the back of his shirt like he’s already about to leave. He lets you sob into his shirt, only just holding back tears himself. 

Is this what it’s like? To have someone care about you so completely- unconditionally. Someone who cares for not only your safety above all else, but would beg you for just the chance to say goodbye before you leave. You had assured him there had to be another way, and at the time, Gale assumed it was simply because you didn’t want to risk being caught in the crossfire. But now he knows that it wasn’t that at all. The thought of Gale’s death scares you just as much as it does himself. 

“I’m not leaving,” he says quietly. “You said we can find another way. We’ll find it.” 

“I don’t want to stop you from doing what you want to do. It’s your choice, Gale, but you have to know that it’s unfair of Her to ask this of you. You don’t deserve this.” You don’t want him to change his mind because of you. You want him to change his mind because he understands his life is worth it. His life is worth more than the forgiveness of a Goddess who doesn’t care about him. 

Gale’s arms tighten around you. He may not believe your words just yet, but it’s a start. 

It’s a promise. 

#baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #baldurs gate 3 x reader #gale x you #x reader fic #gale dekarios

[fioreofthemarch]

kin

Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Pairing: Link/Zelda Words: 1270 [✨this is a companion piece to repast and yearnings]

When at last Zelda was returned to the present, it was all she could do not to dwell on the past.

The memories of her time as a dragon were gone, but the subconscious remained. She felt unsteady on her feet, disliked being cooped up without a view of the sky, and often dreamt of flying, always waking with a lingering sense of loss. 

It was a guilty feeling. She had gotten everything she’d wanted. The Demon King was gone, Hyrule was saved, and Link - Link! - he was alive and they were finally free to go about their lives in long-awaited peace.  

And yet?

“You look as though you’ve forgotten something,” Purah had said to her when they’d last spoken in Lookout Landing. Zelda agreed, but couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. 

An answer came to her in Hateno, while she and Link were visiting their house by the river. Link had built them a new home in Akkala, and was sure that Zelda would enjoy rearranging it to her liking, if she didn’t mind moving house. So there in Hateno, while Zelda was sorting through her things and trying to decide what to take, something bright and blue caught her eye – a dragon! A spirit of cool, calm wisdom, passing silently overhead. 

At that moment, what was forgotten became clear. She burst from the house, arms waving, crying – “Sister!”

But the dragon never slowed, only kept on as sure as the wind. Then she was rounding north, slipping down towards the horizon, and then she was gone. 

Zelda sank down onto the grass, hands clasped tight and catching tears she didn’t know were falling. Naydra no longer knew her; they’d shared the skies for millenia, and yet! 

“Maybe she just doesn’t recognise you,” Link said upon finding her like this, his voice a steadying presence, as were his sure hands leading her back inside. “You’ve changed since she saw you last.” 

“For the better, right?”

He grinned, “I loved you just as much either way.”

After this Zelda tried, earnestly, to let life go on. The Akkala house was perfect, and only needed some nicer furnishings, maybe a painting or two, or a bigger garden. When not working on that, Zelda found her thoughts returning to the dragons – she charted Dinraal’s path over Akkala, drawing it on a map she kept in her study. Then, when the need arose to travel to Hateno, she did the same for Naydra, and later Farosh too, when she and Link travelled south to visit the Gerudo. Once the map was complete, it occurred to her that the three dragons formed a distinct triangle, each guarding their own corner of Hyrule. And that’s when knew what to do. 

“I was here for longer than I can even say,” she explained to Link, after convincing him to take her to the Great Sky Island. “The three dragons visited me here every day, at the centre of the Kingdom.” 

They stood on the roof of the Temple of Time, where Link had landed the ballooncraft he had made them. The skies were clear, and all of Hyrule could be seen below. He asked Zelda what exactly she planned to do, and she admitted she didn’t really know. She just had to try something. Link gave her an understanding nod, and stepped back to let her proceed. 

Zelda clasped her hands at her chest. She focused, felt all the yearning and regret, all the nostalgia for younger days, and let them flow from her like a lighthouse beacon – a single wish that cascaded from her very soul. Her secret stone, still worn around her neck, began to glow hot against her skin, in concert with the ancient royal mark on her right hand. I am here. Come to me!

How long she stood like that she did not know, but eventually she felt the air grow hot and cold all at once. 

The sight when she opened her eyes was all but beyond words; three great and immortal dragons, servants of the very Goddess herself, gathered together before the Temple. Their bodies flowed like rivers, irridescent scales scattering light, long horns shimmering with diffuse elemental power. Summoned here, the dragons hovered in place; Dinraal to the left, Farosh to the right and Naydra in the middle. 

Zelda bowed. She shook from nerves. Did the dragons hear her call? What was their answer? There was silence, except the wind, until at last Zelda heard a voice.

Sister, the dragon Naydra said, you are changed. 

You have become small and fragile, said the dragon Dinraal. 

You have joined the swordsman as a mortal, said the dragon Farosh. 

“You know me?” Zelda said, barely able to breathe. Behind her, Link stood tall and firm, though his body was tense. It was no small thing to treat with the gods. 

You were not easy to spot, Naydra said. Your light however was very familiar.

A great power summoned us here, sister. We are impressed, Dinraal said. 

As are we curious, Farosh added. Speak your command. 

Still Zelda did not know why exactly she had called them. There had to be something that she had wanted to say…

“Zelda… are you okay?” Link said, with a hint of fear in his voice. It was enough to steel her. She couldn’t tarry here. Immortal though her sisters were, she did not want to waste their time. 

“I am okay,” she answered, and she knew why.

Turning to Naydra, Dinraal and Farosh, Zelda bowed again, long and low. Rising, she said, “I was no one, adrift in an open sky, until I awoke in your company. I had done something terrible and forbidden, but you accepted me as one of your own, and stayed with me until my task was complete. And even now that I have left you, you remember me. This kindness…” she brushed tears from her cheeks, composing herself. “I must thank you. I wish there was a way to repay your generosity.” 

The dragons hovered, eyes bright and piercing. Zelda felt foolish; sentimental words probably meant little to them. But then, together, they bowed their heads in return. After a long moment, they broke formation and began to move through the air once more, silently circling the Temple of Time in a spiral of ice, flame and static.  

“Was that ‘offer accepted’?” Link asked with a nervous laugh. 

Dinraal departed first, heading north for Akkala. Then Farosh followed, turning south for Gerudo. Only Naydra remained. She flew down towards the roof of the temple, and landed on its parapets gentler than a feather. Placing her head down so that her and Zelda’s eyes were level, she blinked slow and calm. 

Beloved sister, she said, things done for kin need never be repaid.  

Then, a single tear falling from her eye, the dragon Naydra ascended from the roof, and flew east. Zelda watched until she disappeared from view, her own tears falling free. Not all memories were lost, she realised, but the past would always be the past, and that was its own kind of loss. 

Still, the future was calling. It came in the form of a warm and gentle hand – Link, threading his fingers into hers. “Home?” he said. Zelda nodded, knowing what he meant, but feeling that she was already there as he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Good, I’ve got an apple pie in the oven that you might like.”

With a laugh she returned his radiance, fresh but happy tears falling. “I think I might,” she said. And so they went, leaving the sky behind. 

#totk #tears of the kingdom #zelink #link #zelda #light dragon #totk spoilers #this is definitely not a multichapter fanfic masquerading as three oneshots #i just really like naydra #shes neat #marble skies

[inlovewhithafairytale]

I honestly think that Jeff Davis screwed up big time. He made the teen wolf movie into a total nightmare. He did NOT fallow the rules consisting in the ships. They forgot people like, where's Theo? Where's kira? Wheres Cory? Where is Thiam? Where is Stydia? Wheres Sterek? I honestly felt that i didn't get to 'meet' the characters again. I just saw them. I mean i dont know how Lydia feels, I cant get a glimpse of her thoughts. Or Liam, like he didn't even recognize Mason, he's best friend. And where is Scott and stiles friendship? I think Scott didn't even talk about him. And Scott would have obviously gone to beacon hills every single year. I really dont know how we are expected to be happy about the movie. The only good thing out of it all is Eli. Also where is Alec?! Scott and stiles child like really? They couldn't have just added him to take him away. I honestly am disappointed by this

#teen wolf #Sterek #Thiam #Teenwolf: the movie #theo reaken #liam dunbar #stiles stilinski #eli hale #lydia martin #mason hewitt #scott mccall

[voidstilesplease]

zenith

word count: <1000 words | tags: lovers to enemies; mancers or magic users Stiles and Theo. Theo is a Necromancer (a magician of death), while Stiles is a Dismancer (a magician of discord/chaos). Based from this tumblr post. Complete AO3 chapters here.

after years, i finally completed this au series. phew!

—-

Stiles has waited years for this day. He’s fantasized dozens of scenarios for when he and Theo cross paths again but somehow never imagined it happening this way. It was always some version of Stiles waltzing into the den of the Dread Doctors – the supernatural scientists responsible for taking Theo away from them almost two years ago – saving Theo and bringing him home.

Despite the initial distrust they had of Theo – the only Necromancer to be born in the last three centuries – once Theo proved himself and his loyalty to the House of Magic by bringing Kira back to life, endangering himself, and fighting the hunters, they couldn't deny anymore that he was one of them. Despite the type of dark magic he had – the darkest magic that every single magic user in existence fears – he belonged with them.

And he was Stiles’. Before those Dread Doctors came and disappeared with Theo in the shadows, he and Theo were discussing the lives they could and would like to have someday outside the House of Magic, outside Beacon, outside their ability.

But now, it is evident that those fantasies will never come to pass. 

“Was this your plan all along?” Stiles quietly asks, kneeling in a pool of blood. He can’t even tell whose blood it is mostly – just that it’s a mix of everyone he loves. Every one of their friends who wanted to get Theo back just as much as Stiles did. And now everyone Stiles may not get back.

Were any of those plans he made with Stiles even real for Theo? Even a little?

Theo steps forward, gesturing at the chamber, healthy and seeping with power, not at all the magic-depraved, sickly, and tortured man they were worried he would be. 

“What do you think of it, Stiles? The walls, floor, and ceiling are heavily infused with iron and lead, enough to incapacitate even a powerful magician.” When he looks at Stiles, he grins. “You know, like that one that we planned to build in the House as an isolation room? Of course, I made it ten times worse and added a little touch of fatality, but yeah. As envisioned.” He sweeps his hands around proudly like he expects Stiles to applaud his genius.

He can’t if he wants to since Theo has his arms and wrists bound in poison iron.

“I think,” Stiles replies, throat raspy from misuse, “you’re a piece of shit.”

The smile doesn’t slide off Theo’s face. He shrugs easily like the weight of what he’s done to his friends is not weighing down on him at all. “I guess, I deserve that after this... poor reception.”

No, Stiles disagrees. What he deserves is pain. An endless flow of it. Stiles has a lot of it from his friends; from himself, even more. If only he could inflict it on Theo.

“Was this your plan all along?" he asks again, looking at Theo, willing him to tell the truth. Willing him to stop his lies, for once. "Lure us in, slowly kill us to feed your magic, and then give us to the Dread Doctors to be their plaything as you were? Why wait years, then? Why didn't you let us find you right at the beginning? Why were you so confident we wouldn't just give up on you?" Quieter, he adds. “I guess that's where I come in: this stupid magician who makes a habit of upsetting the balance just to keep the people he loves. Was none of it real?” Was anything between us real?

The smile does drop, then. All charades gone. In place is a cold look. Theo shrugs again, “Does it matter now?”

Stiles exhales shakily, “It does.”

Theo frowns at his reply, “I don’t know, why don’t you tell me, Stiles?” He steps forward, suddenly enraged. “You’re the expert in creating illusions inside people’s heads, aren’t you? So, you tell me. Was any of it real?” 

Stiles scoffs. “When have I ever pretended with you? I'm here, am I not, as you knew I would be? My magic feeds off of pain. I create nightmares, Theo, not fantasies.”

“But when those fantasies fall, what is left, Stiles?”

Against his better judgment, Stiles’ eyes begin to prickle. “I’m not the one who betrayed us. We came here to save you. I came to get you back, you worthless son of a bitch.”

Theo stands abruptly, hands tightly fisted at his sides. “I don’t need saving,” he spats, turning and making for the exit. Then he stops and looks over his shoulder to say, “You never should have trusted me.”

“No,” Stiles says, hollow voice above a whisper. “I never should have.”

For a moment, Theo only stands there, looking at Stiles, at the unconscious and bloody bodies of their friends. The only reason Stiles knows they’re not dead is because he can taste their pain. He cannot use their pain, not inside this room, but he can still feel it in the prickling of his fingertips.

“I can feel your pain, too, you know?” says Stiles a moment later. His eyes meet Theo’s. “That’s how I know some of it was real for you. In a perfect world, we can still escape and live the life of our dreams.” Stiles watches the hard way Theo swallows and hears his sharp exhale of breath. “But we’re done living in that fantasy.”

Theo tears his eyes away, moves past the entrance, and presses a button to close the chamber's mechanical doors. 

For a moment, their eyes meet one last time as Stiles and Theo, the magicians who fell in love and dreamed of getting out. There’s no getting out after this.

“Welcome to your nightmare, Theo.”

And the door shuts.

—-

steo a-z: part 26

#steo #teen wolf #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #stiles x theo #steo A-Z #steo flash fiction #contains: Magic users Stiles and Theo #contains: lovers to enemies #contains: <1000 words #fics tag #flashficsau

[woooyeahbaby]

aprilluc day 1: brother

warnings: none! just ragbros being cute :) i will say though, this is NOT a romantic ship. kaeya and diluc are brothers. oh also this is kinda short lol expect that for the future ones too!!

a/n: so yeah i’m doing aprilluc ! not every day, since for some of them i have no idea what to write and also i am not writing every single day lmao.

“it’s time we catch up, brother. care to join me on a stroll?”

kaeya? inviting diluc on a walk with him? it’d been years since they’d gone out on a casual walk together. but diluc knew it was in his best interest to accept, so he did.

of course, he was a little iffy. as was kaeya, but along his journey to correct things between them, a little discomfort had to be experienced. diluc recognized that too, as much as he hated to admit it.

they never truly hated each other. they may have said it countless times, through arguments, through glares, through casual conversation… but it was never true for either of them. deep down, they held brotherly love, no matter what they’d gone through. but they’d never really admit it. not now, anyway. they both needed to heal and make amends, with each other and themselves.

wandering along the dirt path just outside of mondstadt, kaeya and diluc could see the bright beacon of light emitting from the statue of the seven near the large tree of windrise. it was a sunny, beautiful day. it was enjoyable. neither of them thought they’d enjoy a day with the other ever again.

“so, dear brother, how are things with the winery? business must be booming, i’d assume?” kaeya breaks the semi-awkward silence between the two, his hands behind his back as he walked slowly, matching diluc’s pace.

“they’re fine.” the red haired man replies simply, only realizing he sounded a little rude when the silence became painful again. he decides to bounce the question back to kaeya. “how are things with the knights?”

kaeya smiles softly. “fine, fine. jean asks about you a lot. i.. never truly know what to say. i always just tell her you’re alright. hopefully that’s true?” he looks to his brother with his uncovered eye, holding concern in his gaze.

diluc almost seems taken aback by kaeya’s concern for him. it’d been a while since they caught up, considering their current relationship, so it made sense for him to at least ask if he was okay… but genuine concern on his face was rare. that’s how diluc felt, anyway.

“..yes. i’m holding up alright,” diluc nods, clearing his throat quickly before continuing. “and you.. brother?”

kaeya’s eyes — well, eye — lights up at diluc calling him ‘brother’. despite kaeya frequently referring to diluc as his brother, he never quite heard it back unless it were under technical terms.

“i am as well.” the blue haired man pauses, looking down to his moving feet before looking back up to diluc. “i’d like to do this more often, y’know. it’s nice. calming. both to my soul, and my mind.”

diluc, who’d been staring ahead, turns his gaze to kaeya. his eyes seem to be widened at kaeya’s request to spend more time together, but quickly after, his gaze softens, a gentle, barely noticeable smile appears on his lips.

“i would like that too, kaeya.”

#genshin impact fanfics #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #aprilluc #apriluc #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #diluc ragnvindr fanfic #diluc ragnvindr fanfiction #diluc fluff #ragbros #kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #kaeya alberich fanfic #kaeya alberich fanfiction #genshin impact kaeya #kaeya ragnvindr #kaeya fluff #gi kaeya

[bookwyrm35]

My rant about how complicatedly beautiful Locklyle is:

(Disclaimer: this was written at 3 am and I tend to get weirdly poetic in the wee hours. 🤷‍♀️ Just so you know.)

Let us begin with our components of this ship: Lucy Carlyle and Anthony Lockwood. Lucy comes from a home practically devoid of love. Her father is gone, her mother might as well be, and every sister (save possibly Mary) has left her life completely. When she went to London, she was searching stability, shelter and yes, she got that but she also got so much more. She found a family. She found friendship. She found love.

That, in my book is such a vital part of any relationship. Before you are anything else (not more because romance is not above platonic, but simply different), you must have friendship. It might sound cheesy or a little weird but it is true. And it was true for them.

It is important, when analyzing Lockwood and Co. characters, to remeber that Lucy, as much as we love her, is an unrediable narrator. She tells us what she notices and nothing more. As the books go on you can see her dwelling on Lockwood's description, going into more detail of how he looks, how he acts, she even starts to catagorize his smiles. It's slow and she'll never be caught dead admitting it, but you can see how her attraction to him grows and for once I love it. One, because the girl doesn't even notice and two, because it's natural. The pace they move at can be seen by others as miniscule and tortuous, but to me it is right. If there is to be romance, let it be done slowly. Let it be shown at the pace of opening spring and with the steps of shaky feet.

Turning to her counterpart in Lockwood, the first thing I would like to address is his focus. His ambition and drive, though seemingly strictly personal at first, is another vital thing I think plays into the masterpiece that is their relationship. He (for reasons you know if you've read the books) is laser focused on doing his job as an agent and doing it well. His country is plauged by a scourge and he will stop at nothing to alleviate the pain is brings. His whole life since...well, spoilers, has been devoted to fighting the dead, removing their spirits and doing it with flair. But then... along comes this Listener, this girl named Lucy, and everything changes. Suddenly he finds himself with his attention spilt, his once single mindedness gone like it never existed. For the first time in so, so long he thinks about something outside the Problem. This is all speculation, mere drivel on my part, but I truly belive that Lucy changed Lockwood in a way no one else could. She grounds him, gives him a reason to live beyond the next case. She becomes like his sun, a beacon of hope and light he can always turn back to.

I've heard people say that Lockwood fell first but Lucy fell harder. I think that fits. Though we don't see it clearly through Lucy's eyes, from the moment they met, Lockwood would do anything for her. Even when he barely knew her, he gave her his childhood room, a place in his home, his agency and his heart. He never pushed her to talk about her past, never took her Talents for granted, always tried to make sure she felt she belonged. He won't realize until much later, but I think he fell for her before she even accepted the job.

What about Lucy though? Why do people say that she fell harder? I can't say much, don't want to give away anything to those who have yet to read the books, but just know that she would do anything, anything, to keep Lockwood safe. Even if it meant torture and pain and loneliness beyond belief, if she thought it would help him-she would do it. She loves him so much, and she doesn't even realize it.

But does this devotion, the immediate connection make void the point I just made about things needing to be slow? No, because of the ever important detail of their ignorance. It is this inability to make that connection that I find so endearing, even nigh amusing. Anyone else could have told them they love each other, but the fact that they can't see it is delicious to me. It makes them act like fumbling fools, but they're teenagers. What do you expect? Their world is dark and dreary and full of death, but they have each other, and to them that's enough.

I think another reason I love Locklyle is because they never delude themselves into believing they're the only two people on this earth that matter. Never is there a moment where they shut out their friends in favor of being with the other. George (and later a few other characters) are so dear to them, and you never doubt that. Lucy and Lockwood have a special connection, that cannot be denied, but it is never put above thier friendships with others. Like I said before, romance is not more. It is simply different.

#save lockwood and co #bring back lockwood and co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #locklyle #george karim #renew lockwood and co #DisneyForLockwoodandCo #lockwood and co books

[kark3lia23]

𝔸/ℕ | 𝕀 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕕 𝕥𝕠 𝕦𝕡𝕝𝕠𝕒𝕕

(Church Girl AU)

SUNDAY MORNING

Bakugou POV

Light was all I saw when I first laid eyes on her face,

A radiance that outshone the sun's warm embrace.

Her smile, a beacon of joy in a world so cold,

Her laugh, a melody more precious than gold.

She possesses a will to fight for what she believes,

A strength that in her heart never grieves.

Ochaco, her name, a melody in my heart,

A love so deep, it sets me apart.

But my light has been dimmed by the hardships of training,

The stress of putting up with those she's entertaining.

Her friends, those "idiots," as I've constantly said,

Yet they're a part of her in every way.

Despite the challenges, my light shines on,

In her presence, my worries are gone.

For today, at least, is a day of rest,

A day when our love is at its best.

As God said, Sunday is a day of devotion,

A time to rest after labor's emotion.

My love will finally get her long-awaited rest,

And my heart, with love, will be blessed.

So here's to my light, my love, my all,

Together, we stand, never to fall.

For even as time dims our flame,

Our love will endure, all the same.

Spring

Sunday was always a regular day for me. Other than church, I was often forced to attend with my burden of a family.  In a tight suit that felt like if as if it were a straitjacket, I went every Sunday for the first 16 years of my life. Of course I still believe in God and all of  that shit but I just strayed away.  When I went away for school I never had time to go home to go to church with my family.

Even if i "hated" the people i hung out with I honestly liked hanging out with them

(Izuku included)

School was going great

Becoming a hero was going amazing

But of course summer had to come

And I had to go home 

To my same old House

Same old parents

Same old room

Same old bed

Same old church

But of course it couldn't be that easy

Summer

It wasn't like I was dreading going to church in a bad way

Like if you haven't gone to practice in a long time and just had to come back mid lap

That kind of dread

I hadn't been in about a year 

But apparently to my mother 'it would be embarrassing if everyone heard I came home and willingly didn't come'

--

So here I am in my white straitjacket at the door of my church

But we're late

And it wasn't even my fault, the hag forgot her 'good earrings' half way there

So we're here

and they're halfway through the sermon already

The door creaks as my family walks in

Heads turn to look at us 

'God this is embarrassing' 

And look at that the only open seats are in the front

'Shit'

We walk up to the front and take our seats

When I used to come no one sat in the front, everyone was too scared to be called out by the pastor

But to my surprise there was a single brave soul already at the front of isle

A beautiful brunette with big brown eyes 

Not a dirt color but like a owls

She sits there with a pen and notebook and hand

Looking deep into my eyes as I walk down the damned isle

She was dressed in all white like a wolf in sheep's clothing 

except there is no wolf

just her

She is glowing

I see the light bouncing off her pale skin

I finally sit down

Eyes not leaving hers

I make a silent vow to myself to find her after this

--

Finally after 2 hours of the pastor preaching we were free to go

I can go find her

She's not going to be hard to find

I think

Everyone at my church wears big fancy hats and bright colors

Like pink or a type of green

She was the only one in the room wearing white 

other than me of course

---

Its been about 30 minutes

She must have left unnoticed by me 

Unless...

I haven't checked the pastors office 

But there's no way that's the priest's daughter 

Right?

--

I've stood outside the priests office for about 2 minutes

but I hear her voice 

She sounds angelic

"Ochaco I would like you to attend the church more" I hear the pastor say, "Father you know that I'm swamped at school studying and training is one of my devotions along with god. You  paid for me to be there for all 3 years, I want to use your time and money to the best of my abilities. I'm really sorry bu-"

"Ochaco you're rambling but we can talk about this when we get home"

I guess I was right 

I guess that explains her being front and center 

"Ok father I'll leave now..."

I step back as I see her beautiful face in person

Its obvious she doesn't wear any make up just some lip gloss 

she is the most beautiful person I've ever seen

We look at each other in awe 

Eyes not leaving each others as she closes the door

"Hi"

---

"Hi"

𝕆𝕜 𝕘𝕦𝕪𝕤 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥'𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕨𝕖 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕚𝕥 𝕠𝕗𝕗 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕞𝕠𝕣𝕖. 𝕀 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕜𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝟚 𝟙/𝟚 𝕙𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕥𝕠 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥 𝕞𝕖 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨 𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕀 𝕕𝕚𝕕 :)

ℙ𝕊: 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕤𝕥 𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕣𝕒𝕡𝕙 𝕚𝕤 𝕒 𝕡𝕠𝕖𝕞 𝕀 𝕨𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖 𝕚𝕟 𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕤𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕚𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥 𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕟𝕤𝕡𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕓𝕪 :)))

𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪 𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥<𝟛

#kacchako #bakugou katsuki #ochaco uraraka #church #chrurchgirl #badboy #love at first sight

[jinmukangwrites]

weep little lion man (3.5/14)

First - Previous - Next

Fandom: Jedi: Fallen Order | Survivor Rating: T Warnings: N/A Ao3 Notes: shameless plug, posted a very Cal whumpy one-shot and I'm very proud of it and I wanna promote it a little, consider giving it a try, anyways enjoy the new chapter.

Summary: After defeating Dagan Gera for a third and final time, the Compass ends up in Bode's hands without a scratch. He could go back to Jedha with Cal... but he's holding what he wants. He doesn't see the point in pretending any longer. He makes a split-second decision. Or: Bode's betrayal goes a bit differently.

~~~•~~~

The air is tight with tension. Not many have the chance, the honor of working directly under Darth Vader, but those who do have that honor also know it comes with great risks.

Lord Vader is angry. Every person in the Star-Destroyer can feel it.

Right now, he's standing at the front of the ship's cockpit, looking out the large windows that watch over Jerha's atmosphere. He's cleaned the broken and burnt parts of his suit with pristine replacements, making anyone who didn't know better think that he hadn't just walked out of a battle with a terrorist Jedi.

A Commander, some poor bastard everyone's already decided won't be alive much longer, walks into the cockpit with his chin held high. He stops a small distance from Darth Vader, looking all parts loyal and collected, but it's not hard to miss the tick in his jaw. He's nervous. Commanders after failed missions are always nervous.

"Any sightings on where their ship had gone?" Darth Vader suddenly asks, not turning toward the Commander quite yet.

The Commander swallows. "No, Lord Vader. They went into hyperspace before we could get a tracking beacon on them."

Silence filters around the cockpit, all except Darth Vader's intimidating and steady breathing, a few Lieutenants and pilots exchange tense looks.

"Cere Junda will not be so easy to find again," Darth Vader says. "She has proven herself capable of hiding where we cannot find her before. This failure must be corrected."

Not a single soul dares mention Darth Vader himself was the one who failed to kill her.

"Commander," Darth Vader says, turning finally to look at the tense man. "What of her Padawan?"

That throws everyone into a loop, though the Commander is more graceful at not showing it. "Her Padawan, my lord?"

"Cal Kestis. The ship they travel on was there, and sightings of most of the repeating crew. Except Kestis. What are his last sightings?"

A pilot quickly begins to search the Imperial databanks, it only takes a moment for him to stand up and solute Darth Vader before speaking. "His last confirmed sighting was on Coruscant, sir. He had infiltrated, posing as a prisoner, for known rebel leader Saw Gerrera."

"I am aware," Darth Vader says, tone darkening, and the pilot pales while others attempt to cringe away. The fiasco on Coruscant ended up with an Inquisitor getting killed. Darth Vader hadn't been happy about that one either. "What of unconfirmed sightings?"

"Um," the pilot clears his throat and returns to his computer before reporting, cautiously. "Koboh, sir. A backwater planet, there had been reports of a red haired Jedi with an orange lightsaber by troopers, but nothing any generals or commanders could confirm... As most of the troopers have died in the encounter..."

"How recent?"

"Days, sir."

More silence settles as five agonizingly timed mechanical breaths pass through the air.

"What is the bounty on Kestis now?"

Another pilot reads off a string of numbers. Most people in the cockpit can't help but be impressed by how many zeroes there are. "Though," the pilot continues, "the Haxion Brood has placed an independent bounty on Kestis that nearly doubles the Empire's."

"Triple that," Vader says, and the pilot's eyes widen in shock. "And make sure you specify I want him alive. I want every bounty hunter, every Imperial agent, looking for him, and I want him delivered to me in chains."

"But... but what of Cere Junda?" The Commander sputters.

"Junda has made mistakes with her previous Padawan," Vader says, "ones that she will not repeat with Kestis. He will be easier to find; his capture will bring her to us."

-o-o-o-o-

When the ping came that slicks bounty got updated, Caij was ecstatic at first.

She has just been thinking about the guy too, Sorc Tomo has sent more hunters after him right on their home base Koboh and she couldn't wait to tell him about them.

However, when she got on her datapad to see what the bounty had been raised to, she nearly fell out of the chair. Luckily, she has a reputation in the saloon and no one noticed, but at this point, she doesn't care if anyone walks by to see her currently leaning forward with her elbows on the table, eyes wide looking at the pad in her hands.

Yeah. Yeah, slicks bounty went up. Three times what it was before, and the Empire no less.

She sighs, leaning back on the bench while bringing a hand to her forehead. She sets the pad down.

Not only the Empire, but the contract was made under the Emperor's name himself.

Damn. Damn. What has slick gotten himself into?!

For once, she's stumped. She doesn't get stumped often, so that's saying something. Has her plan worked a bit too well? Has throwing the Jedi at hunter after hunter caused the Empire to notice how badly Sorc Tomo wanted the bastard and then want to get in on the action?

Haxion Brood bounty hunters are nothing compared to what can come from an official Imperial bounty. She can't believe her plan has backfired this royally.

She'll have to leave town. Leave planet. Give up on Kestis and leave him to his own fate. She can't be brought down with the guy. She knows the kinds of hunters that take bounties for the Empire. And with a bounty that high, she has no doubt that a certain one wearing Mandalorian armor has a pretty good chance of getting involved.

"Hey," she snaps at another frequenter of the saloon, that frog thing that doesn't shut up. "Get me a drink."

"Okay!" The frog thing says happily, shrugging and bee-lining for the bar.

She rubs her temples, trying to think. How much time does she have? Does the Empire know Koboh is a frequent spotting place for slick?

It's frustrating. The entire reason she wanted to hike up his bounty was so she can capture him herself and pay off her own Imperial bounty after getting the credits from Sorc Tomo. She can't believe she hasn't seen something like this coming, throwing everything out the damn window.

"Here ya go, miss!" the frog thing says.

She takes the drink. "Beat it."

"Okay!" the frog thing happily walks away.

She takes a big swig, not caring what's in it. So what's next? She doesn't think she can continue with her plan, not when she doesn't know where slick currently is. That ship he travels on left in a hurry a bit ago too, taking the saloon's owner with it. If he were here, she'd take him out now while there's no competition, but waiting for him to come back could end up being more trouble than it's worth.

She's in the middle of considering her options when the saloon entrance suddenly opens, revealing a frazzled looking Greez Dritus and that woman slick is so heart-eyes about.

She can't help but stare, looking behind them to see if there's a familiar bout of red hair, but she immediately discovers they're staring right back, and now walking toward her with purpose.

Hell.

"Caij Vanda?" The woman, skin as ashen as snow, eyes as hard as diamonds. They stop right at her table. Caij makes an effort to look as un-effort as possible, leaning back and crossing her ankles on the table.

"Who's askin'?"

"My name is Merrin, we have questions for you about Cal Kestis's bounty."

Caij dips her head slightly, allowing her to look for nearby exits without looking like she's lookin' for nearby exits. Her hand slowly goes to her hip where her blasters sit.

Hell. Did they find out about her plan? They couldn't have, she's not that careless.

"What about it?"

Merrin narrows her eyes, distrustful thing ain't she, but Greez steps in. "Look, all we need is one of his bounty pucks, and we'll be out'a your head tentacles."

Now that catches her off guard. Out of all conversations relating to Kestis's bounty, she wasn't expecting that.

"Now that's a request," she says carefully. "Mind letting me in on the juicy details before I decide if I'm gonna ignore you or not?"

Merrin's lips thin, but Greez quickly steps in. "Look, we know you've been helping the kid get a jump on those bounty hunters, and that you've been rewarding him for the pucks he brings back. We... lost track of him, and we think a bounty puck can help us find him. He might be in danger, surely you could let us use one to get him back. We can pay."

"What sort'a danger?"

Slick's friends stop and silently consider her question. She has'ta admit, she's genuinely curious. Slick couldn't have been captured already, his bounty had just gone up, and any dangerous hunters are sure to take a few days to get as far out as Koboh. However, even if he had be captured already, his friends working to find Kestis again could help her out, especially if they bring him back right into her hands.

Greez sighs. "Someone we trusted turned out to be someone we couldn't. He jumped Cal and took him captive."

"Empire? Brood? Raiders? Come on Dritus, I need the deets."

"None," Merrin snaps, looking frustrated. "He took Cal for his own personal goals. We think he took him into the Abyss above Koboh. We need the puck to be able to make sure."

Interesting.

Interesting. This could work for her.

She uncrosses her legs and stands up, startling them both to take a step back. She grins at them, showing her teeth. "Good news, I'm in."

"What?" Greez says dumbly.

"I'm in," she repeats. "I'm coming with. Pucks can be complicated to those first usin' them, and if you want it used effectively, I'm coming with. Don't even have'ta pay me. I like that Jedi, be a shame to see him stay missing cuz I didn't get involved."

"I do not understand," Merrin says. "You are not invited."

"Then you're not getting this puck," she says, patting her hip. "I'll go find him myself."

A lie. If they don't let her in, she'd much rather let slick stay in his situation while she skips out'a this side of the Galaxy.

Merrin and Greez exchange glances before Greez sighs in defeat. "A bounty hunter on the Mantis," he says, "what has the Galaxy come to."

-o-o-o-o-

"We got a puck," Greez announces as he enters the Mantis. "Came with a bounty hunter though."

Merrin watches Caij saunter into the Mantis. She moves her hips way too much, like she's constantly skating on ice. She bends at her hips and glances around the main room of the Mantis, peering down towards the cockpit and letting out a whistle.

Cere glances up from the holotable, Cordova at her side and BD-1 still connected to the system. Her eyes land distrustfully on Caij, but she gives a polite smile. "Thank you. However, we may not need you. BD-1 just picked up a signal from Cal's locator."

BD-1 boops happily as all sorts of data, coordinates, strings of numbers flash through the holo-projection.

Merrin approaches the table, though she keeps an eye on Caij, and watches as BD-1 finally pin-points the signal, but the air seems to be sucked out of the room as the location is revealed.

"That's an ISB base," Greez says, his voice disheartened.

"I thought you said the Empire wasn't involved," Caij said, placing her hands on her hips. Her voice has gone tight, her lips thin, eyes narrowed.

"We didn't think they were," Cere said. "The man who took Cal, he was a spy, but we assumed he abandoned the Empire to pursue his personal goals..."

BD-1 suddenly gives a string of beeps, and Cordova nods.

"It seems, Bode has a daughter."

Merrin considers the new information. He's never told her, or anyone, about this daughter to her knowledge, though Merrin knows Cal and Bode had gotten close during this adventure, often having private conversations with each other.

"What? You think he went back to Nova Garon to get his daughter?" Greez asks. "That could have been a lie, Cal could already be in one of their cells, waiting for the Inquisitorius."

"Perhaps not," Cordova says, pointing at a holomap BD-1 brings up. "His signal isn't coming from the holding cells, but from what appears to be on-base living quarters. He could be keeping Cal hidden while he gets his daughter prepared."

"Or," Merrin says, "it could be a trap to lure in the rest of us. Bode has already tried to kill us all by sending the Inquisitorius to Jedha, I wouldn't put it past him."

"Caij Vanda, yes?" Cere asks, and Caij nods her head slowly. "Could you show us the puck? If I'm correct, the puck should track Cal's DNA signature. The locator could have been taken from Cal's person."

Caij considers for a moment, then shrugs. She pulls out the puck and flicks on.

She frowns when nothing happens.

"Now that's odd," she says.

"No signal," Cere breathes.

"It's a trap," Merrin confirms.

"No signal means he's on Tanalor, right?" Greez asks, now sounding frantic. "How in the stars are we supposed to go there?!"

"Perhaps I can help," a new voice adds. Caij tactfully jumps out of the way as Zee daintily approaches the ship. Cere's eyebrows go up at the sight of her, and Cordova gives a thoughtful humm.

"You must be Cere Junda and Eno Cordova," Zee says happily. "It is a pleasure to meet you both, Cal has told me much about you. However... I could not help but overhear- or well, Monk could not help but overhear and then inform me. Cal is missing?"

She stops part-way within the ship, worry rolling off of her.

"Yes," Cere says. "Bode has stolen the Compass, and we believe he has taken Cal out of our reach to Tanalor."

Zee nods sadly. "How unfortunate. However, Cal is not completely out of our reach. After all, my former master and Dagan Gera had to have reached Tanalor before the Compass had been invented. Surely, if we look through Master Khri's research we are bound to find another way through."

"Fascinating," Cordova says, stepping towards Zee. "You are living history."

"Oh," Zee says, sounding a little flustered.

"Do you know where we can start to find this other way?" Cordova asks, stopping a few steps from her. She gives a sad sigh.

"No, Master Khri had wiped my memory banks before we parted ways. I'm afraid I do not know of any other way to cross the Abyss."

"But much appears to remain," Cordova says. "I have much experience with droids and programming their memory, would you allow me to search your memory banks?"

BD-1 hops off the table and rushes towards Cordova, climbing onto his shoulder and giving a string of encouraging boops.

Zee looks at BD-1 to Cordova, then shrugs. "Oh, why not. I am sure you will find nothing, but it doesn't hurt to try." She turns to Cere then. "I do not know of any way to cross the Abyss, however, there are many places within Koboh where Master Khri's research and teachings remain."

"Anything you have, Zee, would be very helpful," Cere says. "Merrin, would you join me in searching these locations?"

Merrin nods. "Of course."

"And what about me?" Caij butts in. She's leaning against the wall, looking entirely too bored. "Without a working puck I don't see the point in hanging around."

Merrin glares at her. "You said you want to help find Cal," she seethes. "You will help us find Cal, with or without the puck."

She opens her mouth to argue, but Cordova cuts in. "Actually, I was hoping to see if we could breach through the abyss to track young Cal. After searching Zee's memory, I will need your expertise. I am sure there's a way."

Caij looks unhappy about that, but doesn't argue.

Merrin doesn't trust her, but if they want the tracking fob, then there's no choice. She gives Caij a hard look, promising retribution if Cordova even has a single new scratch on him the next time they see each other. Caij looks back indifferently, but breaks into a grin. "Don't frown so much, sunshine, you'll get wrinkles that way."

Merrin glares at her. This is for Cal, she reminds herself as the party splits off, Cere and Merrin heading off to the closest accessible research location of Santari Khri's without needing the key that must be with Cal and Bode.

Once they have Cal back, safe and sound, it'll all be worth it.

#jedi survivor spoilers #jedi fallen order #jedi survivor #sw jedi fallen order #sw jedi survivor #caij vanda #darth vader #greez dritus #merrin #fanfiction #jin writes

[ogdoadfates]

It was only a cough: Ch #8 Killbox

Warning! I do try my best to describe the zombies so this chapter has descriptions of rotting corpses and gore!

Also I am so so sorry this chapter took forever!! I had a hard time writing it sadly even if I was excited too. ( ao3 link )

He told them , he fuckin told them. Grog was pissed, angry, enraged, whatever you wished to call it as he stared up into the slightly deflated eyes of the foul smelling zombie he’s struggling with. Grog grunts, he can feel the blood running free from his flesh where the living corpse had scratched him. He told everyone they shouldn’t have split up but they did anyway and look where that got them. With one last hefty shove he overpowers the zombie, its squirming flesh leaving a residue of grime, blood, and gods know what else on Grogs hands and body.

With a swift motion Grog grabs his sledgehammer from the floor where it’d fallen and with one quick swing, lobbed it onto the wretched things already dilapidated skull. With a resounding crack and thunk gray matter and gore flings about the tiles of the room Grogs in. He stands still and listens for a moment, he knows he’s rather deep within the hospital which means the others are too most likely. 

For a couple moments all he can hear is the moans and groans of the other zombies infesting this horrorshow of a building and just before he decides to go back to what he’d been doing he hears it. 

A blood curdling scream rings out like a beacon to summon death, the zombies in the halls responding in a rushed yet faltering sprint to wherever the sound originated. Like the undead Grog responds but unlike them, his muscles work and his determination comes from something else other than hunger. Grog runs, swinging his hammer around to clear a path, he’ll be littered with cuts due to how reckless he’s being. Fucking hell he can easily get bit by running through a hoard like this, but by the gods it’d be worth it if he can prevent a member of his family from dying by one of these wretched things.

Grog already had a hard time thinking of this place as a hospital and not just a glorified meat bag when he was sneaking around but now as he runs he can’t help but think of how it looks like a never ending hallway made of wriggling, worm infested, rotted flesh as everything blurs together.

As he rounds a corner his blood runs cold before relighting with fury. Vex was hunched behind Pike, clutching her side as blood seeped through her fingers. They're surrounded by zombies and no way in hell was Grog not going to change that. With a roar to rival that of a dragon he charges in, knocking the head off of one of the zombies closest to his friends, spraying blood and muscle around the room.

They needed to get out of this hell hole, now!

Vex is terrified. Everything had been going so well, as well as it can be in a hospital full of cannibalistic undead that is, they found quite a fair bit of meds and other supplies but of course something had to go wrong. It wouldn’t be them if it went without a hitch.

She should have been paying more attention, hell she should have brought Trinket with her instead of leaving him in the car with the others and now she got clawed by a zombie, screamed bloody mary alerting every single undead fucker in the area to her and Pike’s location, Grog’s rushed over to them and heavens know if his thoughtless run to them got him bit or not and she doesn’t know where the hell her brother is because he decided to be a dick and sneak off first chance he got.

Vex clutched at her side, it wasn’t a huge cut but enough to spill a fair amount of blood but she kept her hand pressed to the wound. Wouldn’t do them any favors if it got infected. She can hear the near silent choir of okays that release themselves from Pike’s mouth as she tries her best to keep any of the festering undead that haven’t gone after Grog away from them.

“Shit!” Pike shouts, swinging her wooden bat wide to whack a zombie that had been sneaking up on them away, a sickening crack signaling the crushing of the corpse’s ribs as well as notifying them of the bat's withering condition rattles the room. “Buddies, we need to find Vax and leave! Now!” The white haired woman shouts. Vex can feel her panic rising, like Pike said they need to leave but where the fuck did her brother go?!

Vex’s vision is swimming from panic and all she can hear is what she could only describe as a crusade of death, gnashing teeth, blood splattering onto the walls and floors, shattering of bone and the sickening gurgle of death finally claiming the bodies of the undead just like it did the souls before. 

It takes some time but eventually they are running, completely forgoing stealth they shout and yell for their missing member. Only takes a few unanswered calls to cause the dam to break, tears rain down Vex’s face with vengeance. She can not lose her brother, if she loses him she loses herself. They are two halves to a whole, not one without the other. 

Her calls more so resemble the shrill shriek of a mother who’s lost trace of her child at this point, yet she keeps at it. It takes what feels like ages but finally they get an answer, though not necessarily in the way she’d like.

Vax crashes through one of the windows of a room, quickly scampering up and proceeds to run to join them. Rotting hands emerge from the window trying to crawl their way out, only to get caught and impaired on the shards of class still attached to the window, like a sick experiment of rats climbing on the corpses of their kin they flop over onto the other side.

Which leads them now to their current problem. This entire time they’ve been running further into the hospital and now they have to run back, where a hoard of zombies have amassed. Vex clutches onto her brother’s arm, who does much the same to her. They’re all hurt and crazed and Vex just wishes they make it out of here alive.

With one quick glance at each other and a nod, they run.

#apocolaypse au #vex'ahlia #vex #grog #grog strongjaw #pike trickfoot #pike #vax #vax'ildan #criticalrole #critical role #criticalrole fanfic #critical role fanfiction

[trollprincess]

I can’t stop think about what I would have done with the Teen Wolf movie if I were the one writing the story, so I thought I’d write it down. (Also, I’m at work and I am VERY bored.)

Now, this is assuming the same cast is available, BUT not that they would be used. It also leaves in a couple of plot and character points that weren’t entirely garbage.

Derek is not married, but Eli does have a mother: Braeden. She and Derek hooked up, one thing led to another, aaaaaand baby. She’s still off doing her thing, but Derek has custody, and they have a good relationship. Derek still has money, so he focuses on Eli and his “consulting” work. He doesn’t date, but he mentions Eli’s mom might be in town that weekend and Eli jokes, “You want me to give you two some privacy?” because every time they see each other they inevitably end up sleeping together. Derek throws a dish towel at him and tells him to finish his Frosted Flakes.

Scott is now a veterinarian working with Deaton. The two have moved out of the old office, but they’re working in a bigger vet hospital in Beacon Hills. Scott returned to make the town a base for his pack after they were able to cut down Monroe’s forces to a respectable minimum. Scott is married to (let’s call her) Emily, a wolf who came to Beacon Hills looking for the true alpha and found this big sweet brave guy. They have two daughters, middle-school-aged or so, and they have Scott wrapped around their little fingers.

Chris and Melissa are married. Melissa is still a nurse (because there’s nothing wrong with staying a nurse, and promotion doesn’t mean a stepping stone to doctorhood) and Chris travels to do weapons consulting for movies and TV shows. They still live in Beacon Hills because Chris is having an absolute *blast* being Grandpa Chris with little girls climbing all over him, which Melissa finds adorable.

Lydia and Stiles broke up sometime in college, because of course they did, but they still remain close. He texts often, maybe even more than he texts Scott (which is a LOT). She is single, mostly because she loves her work, which is the same as in the movie. However, she’s been using her screams in her research, and she’s gotten even better with them. That muscle definitely hasn’t atrophied. She keeps in contact with Scott and the pack in Beacon Hills and comes when needed.

Stiles is still in the FBI. He’s working at the time the movie is occurring so he can’t return to help with the big bad. He does however text almost as if he’s there. (He can’t FaceTime because you can’t FaceTime while on a stakeout, jeez, Scott.) God knows he knows everybody else so well he keeps texting almost the exact right thing at any given moment. Derek starts wondering if Stiles bugged the Argent/McCall house. Chris says no, but even he peeks around just in case.

Parrish has grown stronger with his hellhound abilities with practice over the years. He works with the fire department either along with or after leaving the sheriff’s department. Malia works with her hands in construction or something like it. She started fixing people’s homes after fights, plastering over bullet holes or replacing windows, and it turned out she was good at it. Malia and Parrish are banging. They think they’re being subtle. They’re really not.

Noah retired. He started writing out of boredom and he’s written several urban fantasy novels that are just stuff that happened in Beacon Hills with the serial numbers filed off. He eats a lot more junk food now that Stiles is gone. Stiles calls everyday and still somehow knows exactly what he’s doing or eating. Noah is pretty sure Stiles didn’t bug his house. *Definitely* sure. Yeah, definitely. Um.

Eli has hobbies and friends. He’s artistically inclined and is getting better at photorealistic work. His best friend knows about the supernatural but is human. He’s always getting Eli into trouble with him, mostly because they want to help when bad things happen. Everyone is *very* aware of who he reminds them of. Eli has a HUGE crush on him. Derek decides to pretend he doesn’t notice, because there is not enough headache medication in the world.

Mason works as a deputy. Liam does live and work in Japan. When Liam comes to town, they actually talk to one another. No, really. Full sentences and everything.

Jackson is the same except he brought Ethan. They are very cute.

Allison does not come back. She is dead and that would be silly.

The pack is still very tight. Even those who’ve moved away keep in contact with Scott or someone else in the pack. We have smartphones, for Pete’s sake, it’s not hard. And with everything that went on … well, it helps to stay in touch in case problems arise. There’s a therapist in Beacon Hills who’s pack. They’ve all gone to her at some time or another to deal with *gestures at everything*. It’s helped a lot.

People in Beacon Hills have come to accept more openly that the town’s rife with supernatural beings. It’s one of those things where no one outright says anything, but also once Scott went out into the crowded waiting room and asked for “Wolfie” and there was this incredibly awkward silence with everyone trying not to make eye contact with him before someone coughed and a guy carried up a tiny yet vicious Chihuahua.

People start seeing characters who died during the series. Not just Allison, but Kate, Boyd, Erica, Mrs. Argent, etc. They’re … off. Unsettling, not threatening. The rest of the plot can spring from that, but the starting point is getting to see old faces, but knowing this is *not* them. (EDIT: I just realized I put Kate, but no, you know what, that’s part of it, whatever it is that’s doing this doesn’t know she came back.)

#teen wolf #teen wolf spoilers #teen wolf the movie

[cockatrice-writers-guild]

The Joy of Creation

this takes place in the set in stone au

warnings: panic, swearing

I wipe the sweat from my brow as I add the finishing touches to the sculpture in front of me, sanding out the remaining imperfections as the sun tries to roast me alive from above. Once I’m sure they’re gone, I take a step back and look over the statue again. As tired as I am, the moment this sculpture is done, the moment I can go take some time off till my next commission.

My name is Emelia Markov, Mia for short, and I’m a sculptor working for Rea, the goddess of creativity. Well, it’s less that I’m working for her than I am the people at the temple. Worshippers come to me to make them statues to add to the temple grounds and I’m more than happy to oblige. I like the work.

Once I’m sure the statue is done, I brush the dust off my shoulders and head back to my shack to ward off the sun for a while, thinking about what I can do with the free time as I go. Tending to my tools and helping out with temple maintenance I guess. Not exciting work by any means but it’s constant and I appreciate that.

I’m thinking of maybe a quick nap before I head to the temple but as I step into my humble little abode, I can immediately sense that something is…different and a simple glance to the right is all that it takes to see the problem: there’s a woman standing in here now, examining some of my sculpting tools.

Now, while my house is technically on temple property along with all the marble statues that remain here to honour the minor goddess, people aren’t really supposed to be in this part of the temple, as in, inside my house.

“Excuse me but this place is off limits,” I inform her.

The woman doesn’t even start, slowly putting down the small rasp she’s holding before turning to face me, a small smile on her face. “Actually, I came here because I wanted to see you.”

“Me?”

The woman nods. “You are the sculptor here, are you not?”

I nod.

“Then I wanted to give you a little something to show you my appreciation. You’ve been doing exceptionally well with your sculpting lately and you’ve been helping a lot of Rea’s followers as well. I can sense this…passion from your sculptures that’s almost a rare find these days. So after some thought, I finally found a gift that would be more than suitable to spark that passion of yours. To nurture it into something greater.”

I’m sweating. Covered in dust. And I think I need to drink something before I pass out but still, this intrigues me. People at the temple usually just pay me for my time, a quick thank you if they’re feeling generous, but that’s usually the end of it.

I nod at her and taking that as a queue, the woman silently beacons me before stepping out of the hut with me following along after a few steps.

She leads me past the garden of statues accumulated over the centuries this temple had been in use, made by me and the many other sculptors that had been here before. Their cold, colourless eyes watch us as we walk.

Rea has always had a small but loyal following. The statues we pass as we move further and further into the garden are already covered in thin layers of moss and vines from years of standing and being subjected to the elements. The greenery grows thick and eventually trees start to tower over us, filtering the sunlight as the unkempt grass brushes against my legs. We’ve been walking for some time now and when the woman finally stops and turns to me, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be looking at.

She smiles as I examine the statues surrounding us, taking in the winged horses expertly crafted in midflight, the heroes with raised swords and even a deer grazing peacefully. It’s all beautiful and as I try to absorb every single detail of the works surrounding us, trying to guess what techniques were used to carve things so lifelike, I’m also confused.

Why did this woman take me here? Was the gift she was talking about the view of these, admittedly amazing, statues? Was she giving them to me? Was she even allowed to? These were all technically property of the temple. I turn to look at the woman, surprised to see she had been staring at me the whole time. Her expression almost looks…giddy.

“You appreciate the craft, I take it?” she asks and I look away, embarrassed. “Good! Then this gift will do nicely. For Emelia, I’m granting you,” she raises her hands with a flourish at the wall of moss in front of us, “the gift of creativity!”

I stare at the greenery for a while before turning back to the woman, whose arms are still raised. “…you’re giving me moss?”

The woman blanks for just a moment before she shakes her head. “Look closer, sculptor.”

I just shoot her a look before walking towards the green wall. The sooner this is done, the sooner I can change into something that isn’t drenched in sweat. I reach forward and touch the moss, surprised when my hand makes contact with something hard just beneath it. I turn to the woman, unsure, and once she gives me an eager nod, turn and rip out some of the moss.

And underneath the patch I just excavated is marble.

I look up and the wall goes on and on and on. And all of it, presumably, marble.

Not in bad condition either.

I open and close my mouth a few times, trying to find something to say before just turning to the woman and pointing at the green stained patch of rock.

She smiles. “Creativity,” she repeats. “You’ve done well serving the temple and so I grant to you this block of marble to make a sculpture of your own. You may do whatever you wish with it.”

Whatever I wish with it. A weird noise escapes my mouth before the words do. “I…you…is this legal?”

“Have no fear. The mountain belongs to me. And now it belongs to you.”

This bitch is giving me a mountain.

“What…but I…would the temple approve of this?”

The woman just shrugs, her smile sly as she watches me. “I know Rea would.”

-

Practicality.

That’s obviously what should be done with an extravagant gift like this, right?

I mean, I’m allowed to do whatever I want with all this material and it was given to me because of my service to the temple. So, logically, using the marble for the sake of the temple is the most practical decision.

I spent the day scaling up the side of the massive thing and the whole time my mind was thinking about the practicality of it all, of how useful it would be for my job. But now,

…now as I stare down at the world below from the very peak of the mountain I now own I…

Start to reconsider.

An idea starts to form in my head. Something stupid. Something crazy. Insane. Exciting.

An idea worthy of Rea’s sculptor.

Now, do I believe Rea is, in fact, a real entity? …debatable.

Do I believe in the legitimacy of the woman giving me a whole ass mountain to sculpt with? …also debatable.

But…feeling the wind blowing through my hair and looking down down down at the tiny shack I call a home, the temple in the distance and the myriad of statues stretching out below me, so impossibly miniscule from this new vantage point I just…

inspiration hits.

And it hits hard.

My heart starts to flutter once I finally let myself think it over. There’s a spark now, excitement. I almost feel restless despite how drained I still am from the trip up, my hands already itching for the tools I’d neglected to take with me for the trip and it’s just…

Sure, I could save a few bucks cutting chunks out of the mountain to carve into the shapes people pay me to make

Or I could make something.

I could make something big.

-

The first thing I do is clean the moss off the areas I’m sculpting for the day. It’s tedious and hours of work hardly seem to make a dent in the greenery but as hours turn to days turn to months, the true face of the mountain starts to reveal itself to me.

And once enough of the green has disappeared, I think about all the things I can possibly make. And then, without any clear plan, I just…go.

Sometimes hours pass without me even noticing and sometimes I struggle to make even a single scrap in the cold stone. All the same, over time something starts to appear in the colossal rock. A mountain turns vaguely humanoid and then human. A crouched form, curled in on itself.

I hone my skills as time passes, the work I receive from the temple helping me to carve out more and more lifelike features as months turn to years.

It’s tough work but it’s exhilarating all the same. Whenever I’m not working, I’m chipping away at the massive mountain and slowly, slowly, the human becomes a man that becomes more and more detailed by the day.

I carve towering legs pulled up to a gigantic stone chest. A thick braid of hair that falls down his back like a waterfall. Shoulders and a neck. Ears and a slight gap between his lips. Eyes as close to lifelike as I can make them. A head that’s bowed slightly, an expression soft, something of wonder and closeness, looking into cupped hands large enough to hold a lake. And in those cupped hands…

…in those cupped hands is…

it’s…a heart? No no. Maybe…maybe a bird or a…a flower or maybe…maybe…

I try again and again and again to carve something into those hands but…nothing seems right. And as the marble resting in the man's palms gradually decreases with my repeated attempts to form anything with it, I eventually give up and spend the week chipping away at the remaining chunk before working to smoothen out what’s left, carving lines into his palms, creases into the bends of his fingers and the grooves of his fingerprints.

Sometimes, when the sun is too hot and the ground is too far away, I rest under whatever shade the massive man can provide. Under his chin or between the unmoving folds of the cloth he’s draped in or, most frequently, beneath his curled fingers. And over the years I…may have taken to talking to him too.

I even gave him a name.

Jax.

But it’s getting late and as I brush some of the stone powder out of the new lines in his hands, I think it may be best to call it a night for now. Though, I’ve exhausted myself yet again. I sigh and take a seat on the cool marble floor that makes up the man’s palm, looking up at his huge face as I rest. And staring back at me are those massive eyes I shaped and carved with my own hands.

It’s strange seeing him like this. I didn’t sculpt this man after anyone I knew. I wanted him to almost have his own identity in a way, as ridiculous as that is. His expression is warm as he stares down, those lifeless eyes trained on me as I stare back.

I lean back a bit and let out a breath, taking some time to warm up my voice before I speak. “Sorry about the empty hands, big guy. I just couldn’t find anything that fit you.”

The statue remains unmoving and the only response I get is the quiet rustling of the trees probably hundreds of feet below us.

The cold of the marble sinks into my legs.

…I mean, me. The trees are below me. There is no us here.

I sigh again. It’s hard to meet people and even if I did, I don’t think it would be easy for…someone like me to find someone willing to stay with me through it all. Sad as it is, this marble statue has been the only thing I’d really call a companion in all the years I’ve worked on him.

I’d leave the grounds for supplies and the only thing really waiting for me back at the temple besides a new customer was Jax, the lifeless piece of rock I’d made to look like a person.

I look up into the motionless stone face hovering over me then, taking in the dip of his nose that I almost broke by hacking away at the stone with too much force, the tear ducts that I remember not knowing how to shape when I first started, the soft lines in his lips that I debated even putting in and in that moment I…

That face, a human face so massive it’s almost off-putting to look at but…

I shake my head with a laugh, even the thought of my next words ridiculous. Still, there’s no one around to judge me. I pat the hand below me, feeling the result of days of sanding, “You’re going to hate me for this one, Jax, but I…”

The stone man waits.

“I…wish you were real.”

Lifeless eyes watch me in silence.

I try to laugh. “And I know that’s ridiculous but…well, it’s a nice thought, isn’t it?”

It’s chilly tonight.

“…how about you, big guy? The trees enough to keep you company when I’m gone?”

The wind blows past us quietly.

“Oh, wait, I guess the other statues are more than enough for you, right? You must have hundreds of friends by now.”

Passed me quietly.

“…unless they’re all scared of you. I’m…sorry I made you so big. I just didn’t want to waste the material. You get it, right?”

Silence.

“…Don’t worry about them, big guy. You’ll have me at least.”

Nothing.

I can feel my throat start to constrict with tears and decide to stop trying to converse with the inanimate object for now. I cough to clear my throat, vision starting to grow blurry. “I’ll fix your eye tomorrow, alright? Just…just…hold on for now. Please just…”

I trail off, staring up at the lifeless figure for a moment longer before lying down on the hard stone, wiping a few tears away with the heel of my palm to avoid getting dust into my eyes.

“…goodnight, Jax.”

-

Carving goes on and on and on and on. Years pass by. Temple staff come and go. More than a decade flies by and all the while, I learn and learn, my craft becoming more respected by the few who bother turning up at the temple of a minor goddess.

Days pass in a blur. Work, Jax, sleep, work, Jax, work, sleep. On and on and on. Hammer and dust and sand and chisel and cut. Sweat and grit and aching muscles. I’m determined to see this through. Especially when Jax looks so close to being finished. His appearance has changed slightly over the years, becoming more impressive to look at as my skills improve, though his expression always remains the same, warm eyes staring down at empty palms. The sight is almost sad in a way but I try not to dwell on it.

I work on him whenever I can, smoothing sharp edges and refining existing features and fixing imperfections until one day I’m in his palms again, having finally wrestled a building sized index finger into something that I’m actually proud of and staring up at his face for anything else to fix today but…

It’s…fine.

There’s…nothing left to work on there.

I walk over the edge of his palms and look down. Knees are good. Fabric is done. Legs are finished. Arms good. Torso, stomach, neck, all of it…

There’s nothing left for me to do today.

I look around carefully several more times, trying from any vantage point I can think of but…

He’s done.

He’s done.

12 years.

I started working on him in my early twenties, just a few years into a scary new career path and now it’s finally over.

For a moment I just take a seat in Jax’s hands, speechless with disbelief.

I…I did it.

The largest statue ever carved and I did it.

There’s a deep sense of triumph as I lie down to stare up at Jax’s face. His dead eyes watch me as always and I throw him an almost giddy smile. There’s satisfaction, relief and…something else now that I think about it.

Jax is done and now…

…now what?

There’s relief but now there’s emptiness too.

I frown up at the big man, realizing how free the schedule for pretty much the rest of my life just became.

“Don’t worry, Jax. I’ll try to visit from time to time. Maybe a picnic would be nice up here.”

As usual, Jax doesn’t respond to any of this and I close my eyes with a small sigh.

Still, once I’m convinced that there’s actually nothing left to do and finally make my way down the statue, I go back home for the night. And once I reach my hut and turn to see the absolutely massive, incredibly lifelike face rising high above the treeline, towering over everything, I can’t help but just…stare.

He looks real.

He looks real.

And I did that.

I smile up at him, a small wave of sadness washing over me as I realize this moment might be something of a goodbye before turning around to go rest for the night.

I open the door, mind still wandering when

“You did well.”

I flinch, eyes darting to scan the room before they land on the faintly familiar looking silhouette standing in the corner, watching me quietly.

I jump back when I see her, biting back a yelp at the sudden intrusion.

It takes me a second to recognize her but it’s the woman from all those years ago. The one who gave me the mountain and…she looks just as I remember her, which I find odd. The last I saw her was over a decade ago and yet looks like she hasn’t aged a day.

The woman takes a step forward and I resist the urge to take a step back. “The sculpture you made. It’s absolutely magnificent! Nearly brings a tear to my eye. You took your time with it and look at what you’ve made! I’m proud of what you’ve done. And so excited because now I can finally give you your reward.”

I just stare at her, confused. Even disregarding how she somehow broke into my house after the temple had long since closed for the night, it’s still weird seeing her again. “How did…but…you…I…thank you? But…wasn’t the mountain the gift?”

The woman just smiles back. “Ah. I never did explain myself, did I? Silly me. The marble was only half the gift dear. What you did with it determined whether or not you’d get the second half of the gift.”

“…so this was a test?”

The woman nods. “And you passed it beautifully. A massive sculpture like this, why I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“Okay? Thanks I guess? I just-”

“-let your inspiration lead you?” The woman laughs when she sees the shock on my face. “I know, I know! I was watching you the whole time!”

She was…watching me…the whole time?

“WHAT?”

The woman looks taken aback by my response before something seems to dawn on her. “Oh wait, I never introduced myself to you, did I?” She bows in a theatrical manner before grinning wildly. “You can call me Rea, goddess of creativity.”

…

…

…there’s a lunatic in my house.

“Can you prove that?”

The woman shrugs. “Your name is Emelia. You have a knack for working with your hands. You took to clay sculpting when you were young and then decided to switch to marble after you saw what the medium was capable of. You wanted to make something awe inspiring. You got a job at my temple to get out of a marriage your parents arranged. You were surprised when the work wasn’t even half as bad as you anticipated it would be. Your creative spark lived on. For breakfast, you had…oh wait, no you didn’t eat anything. You want me to stop talking and you called me a lunatic just a second ago.”

Oh.

She smiles. “You’ve done exceptionally well as a disciple and-”

“Wait, disciple? I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU WERE ACTUALLY REAL UNTIL LIKE 2 MINUTES AGO.”

The woman shrugs. “You’ve devoted your life to creating, whether you’ve realized it or not. That’s more than enough for me.”

I open my mouth to say something else but then decide to close it before the goddess fries me.

The woman smirks. “Smart choice. So, since you passed my test with flying colours, made something from the heart and didn’t use my gift for material gain…,” she pauses for dramatics, “…we can now move on to the fun part.”

I just want to go to bed, man.

“Soon. I’ve watched you, Emelia. Examined your heart and desires. You’re in a lot of pain. You’ve been wanting something deeply for a long time now. Someone. Someone you could call your own without all the romantic attachments you don’t feel. You want a lifelong friend. And so you carved one yourself. Someone waiting just like you. His hands remain empty because of this.”

…his hands remain…did I do that on purpose? The lonely mountain of a man, seen by all but still waiting forever and ever for someone, anyone to fill that void. …did I…?

The woman smiles again. “You’re lonely. You made a friend, literally. And now…well he’s waiting for someone isn’t he? Why not you?”

…why not…

“ARE YOU GOING TO TURN ME INTO A STATUE?”

The goddess blanks for a moment before she laughs. “Ah, not quite. Close though. That man’s been waiting for over a decade now. But what if instead of sitting through an eternity of loneliness, he simply got up and started searching for the missing piece himself?”

Even as the implication of that statement still hangs in the air, the goddess slowly raises a hand.

“Good luck,” she chirps.

And then she snaps her fingers.

And all at once, everything starts to shake.

“Oh that’s my queue!” The goddess says. And a blink later, she’s gone.

…help.

-

The ground is already starting to shake something awful, the rhythmical quakes already starting to launch me as I stand frozen in my little hut.

My tiny hut.

My miniscule hut.

Footsteps.

The things launching my bed a few inches off the ground effortlessly are footsteps.

There’s tears in my eyes as I stand there, motionless.

I did this.

I did this.

And now I’m about to pay the price.

I don’t know what Jax is looking for. Something to fill his hands?

Or is he looking for me?

Does he remember who I am? What I’ve done to him?

What will he do? I can’t just stay in this hut forever can I? Will he find me? Will he…

…am I going to die tonight?

I’m shaking bad now and the steps don’t waver in the slightest.

My mind races in time with my heart. Would he recognize me? Can he feel the void I left? Will he find me? Does he know where I live? Will he hate me for what I did to him? I didn’t mean to. I didn’t. I just wanted to make something! I didn’t know this would happen! That he would be brought to life to feel this way! He’s going to kill me he’s going to kill me he’s going to-

A step heavy enough to launch the entire hut for just a second lands and in that moment I can’t take it anymore.

I’m shaking badly and then just like that I’m wrenching open the door and I’m running. I’m running as fast as my legs can carry me and my tears are streaming down my face and obscuring my vision and there’s this horrible horrible horrible sound behind and above me and my heart hammers and I realize why it’s so dark tonight even though the moon is shining brightly and I don’t turn around and I can’t turn around and my legs are pounding against the grass and my heart is pounding in my chest and this is my fault this is my fault this is my fault this-

I dive behind a statue just as the ground shakes once more, just barely managing to remain under its cover as the steps come to a stop. I’m pressing myself hard against the cool material as I try to remember how to breathe. My vision’s blurry and head is starting to pound horribly in time with my heart and-

“…hello?”

A voice, a man’s, one I don’t recognize but all the same, it’s hard for it to even register as a voice at all at first.

Because it’s loud. Louder than anything I’ve ever heard in my life and I’m terrified. I try to hold my breath to erase my presence but quickly find it to be a losing battle as my racing heart demands more air and I just barely manage to hold back the gasp my body forces me to take.

The silence is horrible and as the seconds crawl by, I press myself harder into the statue I’m leaning on.

“Is someone out there? I think I’m…looking for someone. I-” there’s a pause and another few steps that thankfully seem to be decreasing in magnitude. I grit my teeth and wait out a few more tremors before making a decision. My only chance of surviving this is by getting out of the temple grounds without him noticing. I can worry about what comes after when the sun rises. I wait for one more step before ducking forward and crouch walking as fast as I can. I take the time to throw a look over my shoulder just in case and almost immediately regret it.

Because the sight alone is almost enough to make me stop moving entirely.

Jax. My statue, he’s walking around, looking around, his braid shifting with the movement, everything shifting with the movement.

And he’s fucking huge.

I guess I already knew that from all those years I spent making him but seeing him like this? In this context? He’s terrifying.

He was as tall as a fucking mountain when I’d carved him, when he was couched down, but now, standing, he’s damn near inconceivable. He stretches into the sky, towering over absolutely everything in sight and the many statues that decorate the garden, human sized statues for the most part, look like fucking bugs next to his massive stone sandals and the subtle shift of his feet as he tries to look around sends tremors through the ground and

and he’s looking for me.

I’m dead. I’m dead I’m dead I’m dead I NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE BEFO-

Still gawking at the man as I move, the panicked thought gets cut off when my luck finally runs out and I crash into a statue with enough force to knock it over.

And it’s quiet out.

Which is why, when the statue collides with the earth below and a sharp crack rings through the once silent night, the man’s head jerks towards the noise instantly.

And then his eyes land on me.

And I can’t fucking breathe.

And then the moment passes as the giant starts walking towards me and I just stare helplessly as a single step closes so so so much distance between us and he’s already here and I turn at the last second and start to sprint like my life depends on it and-

Something slams down in front of me with enough force to knock me off my feet and

And it’s marble.

It’s a massive wall of marble, etched with intricate swirls that I remember trying to carve accurately for weeks.

The massive fingerprint that now blocks my only way forward.

I’m trapped. I can’t move. Can’t even back away from the thing, watching as it shifts slightly in the dirt.

Because now it lives.

Jax is alive.

And I doubt I will be for much longer.

It’s almost funny in a way. Emelia Markov, sculptor of Rea, cursed by the goddess for being too much of a fucking downer.

I can hardly breath, waiting for something, something to happen, my heart hammering and my vision blurring from the stress and then

“Sorry but…could you help me? I think I’m…looking for something? Or…maybe someone? I think her name is…”

Don’t say it.

“Emelia?”

I flinch at that but say nothing. Hearing the statue I dedicated over a decade to sculpting saying my name is…not something I thought I’d ever experience before and yet here we are.

The sound of it leaving his lips makes my blood freeze but the man keeps going. “I just…do you…know anyone by that name?”

My vision blurs with panic and I have to blink back tears as the voice rumbles through me but still, I grasp onto what I quickly realize could possibly be my only chance of not dying tonight.

The giant waits and I take a moment to clear my throat before speaking.

“…I don’t.”

A pause.

I wait, the tension starting to hurt my shoulders.

And then

“…oh.”

There’s a few seconds of silence and for just the slightest moment I think maybe there’s a chance of survival when

“Then why do you sound like her?”

And there it is. Cold dread washes over me as his words do. A question that just about makes my heart stop beating. But what else can I do? There’s no escape. And even if there was, I doubt I’d get that far before he blocked me off again.

Still, when nothing immediately happens, I slowly build up the will to turn and look at what I’ve done.

And I regret it instantly.

It’s Jax.

It’s him.

My friend, the only thing I had to keep me company all these years. I shouldn’t have given him a burden like my own. Why couldn’t I have just let him be happy? Why couldn’t I just let him be? Anything would have worked for him. Anything. But I couldn’t do it. Because it wasn’t true and it didn’t fit.

All that time I spent resting in his palms and staring at his face, talking to him.

Now I can’t even look him in the eyes.

Still, it’s strange seeing what I can of him. His clothes and legs still appear to be made of solid stone but the cloth now blows just slightly in the breeze, creases I’ve spent years trying to perfect being undone and redone by the wind. It’s almost mesmerizing to watch.

But then he reaches forward and the spell shatters instantly. I know what’s coming and I want so badly to close my eyes but I can’t. Instead, I watch as the stone fingers unfurl and reach for me

Before the tip of a single claw lands just underneath my chin.

I expect the man to just impale me through the skull and be done with it but instead he does something much worse.

He tilts my head up.

And now Jax stares down at me, his massive face almost incomprehensible like this, brows furrowed as he takes me in. It’s strange seeing him without his default expression but then, I don’t think such a look could ever be aimed at me.

There’s a moment where the two of us just stare at each other in silence. The giant man cocks his head slightly, blinking with eyelids that were never supposed to move. Taking me in the same way I did him for all these years. And it’s strange. There’s this sense of…calm in the air, an almost finality to this moment. The lonely artist getting killed by her embodiment of emptiness. It’s almost poetic in a way and I take a deep breath while I still can.

And once the moment passes, Jax raises the hand that was blocking me, bringing it up and setting it down in front of me before another claw approaches my face.

Approaches my eyes.

Of course he’s going for the eyes first.

I try to breathe as a few more tears spill out but otherwise don’t try to move. There’s no point fighting anymore anyway.

The claw reaches out almost painfully slowly, like he’s purposely drawing out the moment for everything I put him through, prolonging my suffering as long as he possibly can before landing the killing blow.

And once the sharp tip just starts to graze my skin and I brace myself for the pain to come

He runs the claw along my face with a gentleness I didn’t expect, using it to carefully wipe my tears away. He does this continuously, over and over and over until finally the tears slow to a stop.

And once that’s done, he pulls back both of his hands and takes a seat in front of me.

And he smiles when my eyes meet his again.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Emelia,” the giant says quietly.

And then…nothing.

And now I’m confused.

I had been fully prepared to die tonight and now I don’t know what to do.

And so as my adrenaline starts to wind down and with no other plans for the night, I sit down as well.

We continue staring at each other in the quiet and, with the imminent threat of death gone, I can take the time to examine him properly. His head of stone hair moves when he shifts his head just slightly and it’s just…incredible seeing him in motion.

Terrifying though.

“…I always wanted to do that,” the giant mutters and snaps me out of my daze.

It takes a moment for me to find my voice. “…do what?”

“Wipe away your tears. You always seemed so…sad.”

“…oh.” The way he says this is so genuine that I can’t help but look away for a moment. “…thank you then.”

There’s a moment of silence before I try to fill it again.

“…I thought you were going to kill me.”

Jax pulls back slightly, his stone eyes growing wide in alarm. “Why?”

“…your hands.”

Jax looks his hands over, confused before turning back to me. “What about them? I think they look pretty great! You are an incredible sculptor.”

“Nono…thank you…but, I mean like I’m sorry I left them empty, you know? You were supposed to be holding something and…and I didn’t let you. I left a void and…I’m so so sorry about that.”

“Void...” Jax looks like he’s thinking for a second before slowly bringing his hands up to his chest and holding them in the position I carved them in. It’s almost uncanny seeing it now. “…you mean this?”

I nod and Jax’s expression softens slightly.

“Emelia…,” he trails off for a second before bringing a hand forward again and setting it down in front of me, laying it flat on the grass. “I want to show you something,” he says when I just stare at him.

With a shrug, I push myself off the ground and make my way over to the hand. I walk around it until I find something I can actually climb onto, having to settle with the end of his nail. Once I sit down, Jax slowly brings the hand up and over to his chest once more.

He cups his hands again and watches me quietly for a moment. And then smiles when I just stare back confused.

“What do you see right now? In my hands?”

I cock my head at him and look around for a bit before giving up. “I…don’t know, nothing?”

Jax just leans in a bit as his smile grows warmer, his once lifeless eyes shining as he hums in thought. “I could hear you, you know. I think I could see you too. I remember when you grew tired and rested under the shade of my fingers and when you slept sprawled in my palms and when you…cried yourself to sleep. When you were gone I remember feeling lonely but when you were in here-” he tilts the finger I’m on until I have no choice but to let gravity send me sliding down into his palms, “well, I didn’t really feel that way at all.”

Silence.

As the man moves his hands up slightly, ducking lower to see me better. His expression starts to change as he waits for me to get it, as the implication hangs over us, one that I refuse to grasp. His eyes grow soft when I frown and now I realize the face he’s making is familiar.

Far too familiar to deny. Everything about this is…and yet…in his hands is…

“…it’s you by the way,” the giant mutters after a few more seconds.

“…no, yeah, I get that but-”

“You filled my hands and-”

“I AM AWARE OF THAT.”

The giant chuckles at that, the sound filling the air and the resulting tremors nearly bowling me over. “Sorry, just checking. Point is you’ve kept me company all these years and well-” He pauses, slowly moving one of his hands and curling his fingers before bringing his index finger towards me and resting the tip of his claw just under my hand, shifting it slightly so that he’s raising it up. “I think it’s about time I return the favour.”

-

It’s relatively peaceful when I wake up in the morning, the mattress sinking slightly as I move to get more comfortable under the covers.

The sun is already up but there’s no work to do right now and honestly, I’m just kind of…lazy.

I take in the ambient noise of the late morning as my head moves to borrow deeper in the pillow. The bird song and distant conversation filtering in from the temple.

A good day as any to stay in bed.

But then a tremor shakes the ground and I realize that I won’t be staying in bed much longer.

The tremors increase in magnitude and I hope to whichever god is listening that it isn’t anything important but of course

“Mia!” a voice that’s far too loud echoes from outside. “Some guy back at the temple wants to talk to you for a minute. It’s about uh…it’s about me.”

“Mmm?”

“He…well he wants to know more about Rea and how you managed to get her attention and…all that stuff.”

Ah.

I just sigh. Not one of these guys again. Ever since word got out that a statue was brought to life, Rea’s temple has been getting a lot more visitors, all of them full of questions. Some well meaning but others…not so much.

“…why can’t he just talk to you then?”

“Uh…well, you know why.”

I frown at that.

I think about going out there but then…just roll over instead. It’s cozy here and if that guy really wants something, then he can come to me himself. Jax has been here for months now and it’s not like he’d ever hurt anyone, as intimidating as he looks. He even helps out at the temple from time to time.

“No, I really don’t. Like yeah, you’re big but you’re also the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“…oh? …thank you?”

“Either he talks to you or…he can come get me,” I mutter into my pillow.

“Mia.” There’s more movement from outside but otherwise nothing else happens.

“If he’s that scared of Rea’s blessing then maybe he doesn’t care as much as he thought.”

A sigh rolls over the house like a hurricane. “Rea’s not the one who made a giant, M. That was on you.”

I pull my covers closer. “You act like you don’t like being this size,” I mutter.

Silence.

Then

“…I do like being this size.”

There’s realization in that statement. And I can fucking hear the grin forming on his face as he says this. This gives me about half a second to brace myself before, with a sound the nearly deafens me, the entire hut starts to shake, knocking supplies over and causing the furniture to start sliding across the room and then, after one final jolt

Something blocks out the light filtering into the room.

Something it takes only a moment to register as one of the pupils I remember spending days trying to carve into a perfect circle. Jax is so damn big that I can only see the familiar curve of it through the window.

“Jax?”

“Mia?”

“Is my house still connected to the ground?”

“Nope.” He pops the p as he says this.

“Damn you.”

This causes Jax to laugh, which shakes the entire house for a moment until he stops.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

I just wave him off. “…so, what now?”

“…what do you mean?”

“You have the house. You can take me to that guy but I’m still not getting out of bed and it’s not like you can get in here so…,” I feel a smug smile of my own starting to form. “…what now, big guy?”

This seems to catch him off guard for a moment. He stops to think about it. “…well, you could always just admit defeat and walk out right now?”

“Nah.”

“I could…convince you?”

“How?”

“Uh….”

“Yeah?”

“…I could get you something you want?”

I almost laugh at that. “Rea, could you please remind me what Jax is supposed to be again?”

Rea pops into existence. “He’s the thing you’ve been wanting for some time now. From the very depths of your soul.”

“Thank you.” I pause for a moment. “…wait why don’t you have to deal with any of this bullshit?”

Rea’s grin falters for just a moment. “I…can’t interfere directly with the lives of mortals.”

“Jax looks pretty direct to me.”

The minor goddess looks away for a moment before her eyes widen almost comically. “Wait…can you feel that? Someone is in dire need of my guidance. Busy, busy, you know.”

She’s gone before I can so much as sneer at her half assed excuse and I shake my head at the empty space she once occupied before turning back to the window with a sigh. “Anyway, can you top that?”

Jax is quiet for a moment. “…I…guess…not?” And then in a softer voice. “…do I really mean that much to you?”

I nod at him through the window and there’s a pause before the whole house jolts just slightly.

“Jax, what are you doing?”

Jax coughs awkwardly. “…trying to hug you.”

I frown for a moment before sitting up and reaching out the window, making contact with the massive stone iris hanging outside. Jax blinks in confusion for a moment, temporarily trapping my fingers between his eyelids before he slowly moves his head until the tip of his nose is barely pushing through the opening. I wrap my arms around it, leaning into him and he tries to do the same, the hut creaking as he leans into the touch with a small sigh.

“…I’m still not coming out, you know,” I mutter into him.

“I know,” Jax mutters back. “…and yet-”

He cuts his words off as he suddenly leans away from the house and I, with the thing I was leaning my full body weight against suddenly gone, go sprawling out the window.

Once I finally get my bearings again, I can see Jax’s face staring down at me from above. His expression is apologetic but the tremors of silent laughter currently traveling through him tell me otherwise.

“You’re a dick, you know that?”

“Mmm.”

Once the man finally calms down enough, he leans in close once more, pressing the tip of his nose into me and pushing me into his palm as he nuzzles me.

“I’ll drop you off though,” he says after a moment, the proximity making the words vibrate through my bones. “And if the guy just so happens to leave at the sight then well…what can you do?”

I almost smile at that. “Fine.”

#writeblr #original writing #original story #hurt/comfort #statue au #Jax and Mia #set in stone au #ocs #the rooster crows #2 months i've wrestled with this fic #thanks for reading!

[shera-dnd]

So a friend of mine bribed me into writing her rare pair for her, so here I am!

Enjoy part 1 of this two part series of Cinder being begrudgingly redeemed by Pyrrha.

Featuring a Beacon that did not fall, a Pyrrha that did not die, and the maiden powers split between two piles of trauma.

But hey just because things went mostly okay doesn't mean I can't find PLENTY of tasty drama to be had

also they/them for Cinder. Their gender is "woman, but only for evil reasons"

anyways enjoy the read

(oh and part 2 will be smut btw)

There was a light. 

Blinding. 

Searing .

It burned them from the inside out until they could feel nothing else.

And then there was dark.

In the dark there was fear, there was dread. 

They had failed their master, and now they would be punished.

Then there was anger. Molten hot anger against those who had bested them. Against the wizard and his tricks. Against those burning silver eyes. Against the girl who stole everything from them.

But there was nothing left for the hate to burn, and eventually it too died out.

And so they were alone in the dark, with nothing more than their regret.

…

Then there was a song.

No words, just a hum.

It was sweet. 

It filled their heart with a warmth they can’t remember feeling before.

The song would come and go, but every time they heard it it was like the dark receded just a little further.

Until they opened their eyes.

~~~

They were in a hospital bed. The early morning sun peaked in through the window, bringing the slightest hint of life to the dull whites of the walls. The sound of that song filled the room, slowly easing them awake, only ever interrupted by the sound of the EKG machine they were connected to.

Their eye - single eye - drifted across the room in search of the source of that music. 

It was only when they saw the long mane of red hair that they realized the voice behind the song.

“Oh! Hello again,” Pyrrha greeted with a smile, “I was starting to worry you’d sleep all winter.”

Winter? 

It was already Winter?

No, that didn’t matter. 

There were more pressing questions.

“Where?” Cinder croaked, their dry throat barely able to form the syllables.

“Here, drink this,” Pyrrha replied, offering them a glass of water. Cinder wanted to spit on her face, but they were so thirsty that they couldn’t refuse it. “You’re in the Lighthouse Medical Center. They’ve been treating you for the last month.”

Cinder blinked. 

The crushing weight of time pressed against their chest as they realized just how vulnerable they had been. Just how easily She could have come for them. 

Were they just lucky, or were they simply pathetically low in Her list of priorities?

They didn’t like either answer.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Pyrrha called again, leaning closer to them. It seemed their panic had been quite obvious, “it’s fine. You’re safe, okay? No one’s gonna hurt you.”

Safe? 

Ridiculous. 

Nowhere was safe. 

No one would ever be safe from Her .

But why did she even care? 

Why would the woman who stole glory from their hands even bother showing them this kindness.

“Why?” They rasped, before being caught in a coughing fit.

“Easy there, easy,” Pyrrah soothed, much to their annoyance, “hold on a second.”

Pyrrah turned around and looked through her backpack, until she managed to recover a small notepad and a pen, which she handed over to Cinder.

Oh, how nice of her.

Please .

Cinder rolled their eyes, but took the notepad all the same. 

Their right arm reached for the pen and their left…

Their left wasn’t moving.

They looked down at it, and for the first time took in the extent of the damage. Not only was their left eye gone, but the entire left side of their body was horribly scarred and mangled. 

The arm was still attached to them, but it slumped uselessly no matter how hard they commanded it to move.

They couldn’t feel it.

They couldn’t feel their arm!

The beeping of the EKG machine picked up its pace as Cinder felt their heart try to thump its way out of their chest. 

Their breath hitched, their lungs refusing to fill. 

It felt like drowning, like being crushed from all sides as they sank.

When Pyrrha spoke again they couldn’t hear her. 

They hadn’t even realized when the doctor’s came in, Pyrrha still fussing about them as they worked.

Then came the dark again, and at least in the dark they found some peace.

~~~

The days went by, they didn’t bother counting how many. 

The doctors came to visit them frequently, usually simple check ins, and updates on their current state.

It seemed that though Cinder had lost their left eye, the doctors had managed to save their left arm. It was barely functional right now, but they insisted that with proper aura treatment, and physiotherapy, they’d be able to regain movement in no time.

No time could mean a few months, or several years depending on how things went, but at this point Cinder didn’t care. 

They just went through the motions, and followed the treatment, not out of any hopes for recovery, but simply because they didn’t have the energy to argue against it.

It was almost fitting, really. 

They were already half a maiden, so now they were also half a person.

Pyrrha came to visit too. 

Every morning, without fail, she’d walk in through those doors, greet them, ask how they were, and just sit around all morning.

This whole time the notepad she gave them sat unused by their bedside, not a single word written on it, or uttered by them. 

Not like that did anything to stop that woman from holding an entire conversation on her own.

It was exhaustive, but they could never really muster any real anger. Not at Pyrrha, or Ruby, or the doctors. They couldn’t even muster a fear of Salem, even though they knew she’d come for them sooner or later. 

It was as if their heart too had been left scarred and numbed.

And that stupid girl seemed to notice that. 

She always looked at them with worry and pity.

How they hated that look. 

How they hated being pitied. 

It was the only feeling that could pierce that numbness, so they latched onto it, fed it, let it fester. They didn’t hate Pyrrha because she hurt them, or because she stole the maiden powers from them. 

No! 

They hated Pyrrha for having the gall to do all that to them, and then still pity them.

Because the way she looked at Cinder just forced them to see just how pathetic they were.

One day when Pyrrha walked in, Cinder finally found it in them to reach for that damn notepad and write.

Pyrrha was ecstatic. So happy to finally see them willing to communicate. 

There was almost a moment of joy in seeing her face fall when she saw the message they wrote.

‘“Why didn’t you leave me to die?”

There was conflict in her face for a moment as she tried to choose her words.

“It was the right thing to do,” she settled on, though Cinder remained fully unconvinced.

The right thing to do? 

The right thing to do!?

Cinder slammed down the notepad on their bed, and glared at her with burning anger in their remaining eye.

"What 's wrong?” Pyrrha asked, both worried and confused.

“Liar!” Cinder rasped.

“I’m not lying,” she insisted, “I couldn’t just leave you like that.”

“Liar,” they repeated before being wracked by a terrible cough that tore at their throat.

Pyrrha came closer to try to tend to them, but they just shoved her away.

They tried to destroy Beacon. 

Ended countless lives. 

Tricked her into destroying Penny. 

They would have taken her life without a second thought.

“The right thing to do,” they forced themself to speak, “was killing me!”

There was hurt in those green eyes, finally something to replace that pitiful look.

“I can’t!” Pyrrha answered back, her voice cracking as she looked away, “the only reason we were there, the only reason any of this happened. To you, to me, to everyone. Is because of me, because I took too long to make my choice.”

She looked up at them and a single eye burned red with a familiar flame.

The maiden powers. 

Cinder’s missing half.

“I just thought that maybe… maybe I could still save someone.”

So… that is how she saw them. 

Just another poor, hopeless soul in need of saving. 

One last attempt to pretend she’s some sort of hero. 

This wasn’t just pity, it was guilt.

Pathetic, misplaced, guilt.

“I…” Cinder spoke again with a growl and the fire died in Pyrrha’s eyes, “didn’t ask to be saved!”

“Cinder, I-”

“I didn’t ask to survive just so you could feel better about yourself!”

They coughed, that shout putting too much exertion on their throat. They tried to pull in air again, but they could only cough again, and again, building and building until they were doubled over in a coughing fit. 

Pyrrha rushed to them, trying to offer help, but they managed to get out one more word.

“ Out! ”

They did not have to say it again.

~~~

Days passed in the solitude of their room. 

Pyrrha no longer came to visit, and the doctors were now their only company. They insisted that Cinder was recovering well, and that they would have their voice back soon enough.

Not like Cinder cared. 

What use did they really have for their voice now? 

To beg Salem for mercy whenever she deigned to come for them, and finish what Ruby started?

How much easier would it be to just let Cinder rot? 

Why did anyone bother trying to help them anyways?

Part of them wanted to take Salem’s satisfaction away and handle things themself… but the rest was too tired to even put in the effort. 

Why bother? 

Why care? 

Just let the days go by, and the end would come for them soon enough. 

Just wait…

Though they did not keep track of the time, it was hard not to notice the changes around them; how winter slowly gave way to spring. The weather grew warmer and flowers began to bloom around the hospital. 

It was almost beautiful.

It did make them wonder how long they stayed asleep. 

It was late fall when they tried to take the other half of the maiden powers. 

Had they been in this hospital since then? 

How long did they even spend awake? 

When was the last time they saw anything beyond these sterile, white walls?

It tired them. It tired them so much it made it difficult to focus on anything, or even stay awake. 

They just wanted to rest and let the dark take them again.

Just close their eye.

Breathe slowly.

Let the dark embrace them one last–

…

There was a knock on the door. Not loud, but persistent. Just enough to disturb their rest.

Cinder peered at the door with their one good eye, and was greeted by green eyes and red hair.

“Hello again!” Pyrrha’s voice was as cheerful as ever, or at least it tried to be, but Cinder still caught a hint of hesitation in her tone.

“Why are you here?” Their answer was little more than a whisper, but it had none of that old raspiness, and their coughing fits were nowhere to be seen.

“To check in on you, of course,” she answered, taking her usual seat by the bed.

Cinder sneered at her, “I don’t need your pity .”

Pyrrha sighed, dropping that cheerful act,“I know, and I’m sorry.

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Pyrrha repeated, taking her time, “not that I saved you, but… that I did it for the wrong reasons.”

Cinder opened their mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again, unsure of what to do with that answer.

“I still think saving your life was the right choice, but I shouldn’ have done it just to feel better. Your well being should have been enough on its own,” Pyrrha explained, though it only baffled them further, “I know you disagree with me but… you’re alive now, right? And I can’t unsave you, so the least I can do is help make your life a little better.”

What? 

Why?

After everything they did, after everything they tried to do. Why?

“So can I come visit every once in a while?” Pyrrha asked, not a hint of pity or guilt in her voice, nothing but the genuine cheer and care she seemed to show everyone.

Without even thinking, they caught themselves nodding.

What were they thinking?

“Good!” She replied, “so, how have you been while I was away?”

Pyrrha didn’t come over everyday anymore, but the days when she did show up felt different somehow.

It was beyond just having the company again. It wasn’t like Cinder spoke any more often than before, but somehow it now felt like they really were conversing, like the two of them were finally communicating.

Which meant Cinder had to begrudgingly admit that Pyrrha was - unfortunately - not a bad person to be around. 

When she didn’t treat Cinder like a wounded cat, and didn’t try to play the hero, Pyrrha was downright… dorky .

She was particularly not bad to be around whenever she hummed that song. 

That stupid fucking song that seemed to warm Cinder up every time they heard it.

“What’s that song?” Cinder wrote on their notepad, their voice needing some rest today.

“Oh?” Pyrrha exclaimed, the question catching her by surprise. She even looked bashful about it, “it’s just a song my mom used to sing for me when I was kid. It’s a mistrali lullaby. Argus might be more atlesian nowadays, but she liked keeping our traditions alive,” she caught herself before she started blabbing again, choosing to simply add, “I just thought it would help you sleep better.”

A lullaby from Mistral. 

How long had it been since they last set foot on their old homeland? 

So much of their life had been marred by Atlas that it became difficult to remember sometimes those first few years in their home kingdom.

The few memories they did have from those days were far from pleasant, but it was hard not to feel strangely nostalgic about it, about the language they had almost forgotten, and a song waiting just on the edge of their mind.

Cinder closed their eye, and without really thinking their lips began to move, forming words they hadn’t heard in such a long time. 

It was quiet at first, barely audible, but it began to build the lyrics spilling forth into a proper song.

An old lullaby.

When they opened their eye again they found that they were crying. Tears streaming from their one golden eye. 

They almost felt embarrassed to show this kind of vulnerability, but they could see Pyrrha crying too, and suddenly being vulnerable didn’t feel so bad.

Maybe–Maybe it was okay to be vulnerable around Pyrrha.

And in that moment of vulnerability, Pyrrha smiled through the tears and told them, “you got your voice back.”

Huh.

They really did, didn’t they.

~~~

It was a pleasant spring day. 

The sun shined bright, but a cold breeze kept things from getting too warm. 

Flowers bloomed all over Vale, and the already beautiful kingdom was covered in dazzling colors. 

Beacon itself still laid ruined, the Wyvern still rested atop its spire, and communications with the other kingdoms was still down.

But Vale itself survived.

After all the chaos and destruction Cinder sowed, the kingdom still stood proud, the people still lived their lives. Even with the academy destroyed, its headmaster dead, the Kingdom of Vale thrived .

Perhaps Cinder should feel anger as they walked down those cobblestone streets, watching as life went on as if the fall never happened. 

Years of preparation and planning, and in the end they couldn’t destroy the kingdom, couldn’t steal the maiden powers, couldn’t even kill the one girl who got in their way.

“What got you down?” Pyrrha asked, having noticed Cinder’s frowning.

But on the other hand, maybe it was a good thing that they failed.

“Just thinking,” the answer was vague, but she seemed to accept it, “you still haven’t told me the reason for our little trip.”

Pyrrha just shrugged, “after staying cooped up all that time, I just thought you deserved a chance to stretch your legs a little.”

“I appreciate the thought,” Cinder answered, rolling their eye, “but you’re a terrible liar.”

She chuckled at that, seeming amused that she was caught so easily.

“I guess I am,” she answered, “hey, there’s a caffe I like nearby, how about we get ourselves a drink?”

Cinder wanted to push back for an answer, but the prospect of non-hospital food was too tempting to pass.

Soon they got their drinks, and found a table by the balcony where they could rest and enjoy the view of Vale’s coast in the distance. 

Pyrrha sat down and took a sip of her tea, a lazy smile forming on her face as she stared off into the distance.

Cinder allowed her to enjoy the silence for a few moments, but it didn’t take long for their curiosity to get the better of them.

 “So will you tell me what this is all about?”

“Not gonna take in the view and enjoy the breeze?” Pyrrha tried, but Cinder only glared. “Fair enough,” she answered with a sigh, “I’ll be leaving for Mistral in a couple of weeks, and I just wanted to enjoy a day out with you before I left.”

“Mistral?” They asked, confused for a moment, “are you going home?”

“Actually I probably shouldn’t tell you this but…” there was nervousness in her voice and uncertainty in her eyes, “ I guess I can trust you.”

The thought of Pyrrha trusting them was almost funny to Cinder, but they couldn’t argue that it didn’t feel nice.

“Ruby took my team to Mistral to try to stop Salem’s plan,” she finally surrendered, “I’m planning on joining them to make sure they’re fine.”

What? 

Salem was still going after Mistral next? 

But the Vale plan failed, they failed, there was no reason to move to the next step… but the towers were still down. 

Maybe the plan had changed, but she was still making use of Cinder’s mess.

And now Cinder’s mess was putting Pyrrha’s life in danger once again.

“You can’t do this,” Cinder argued, “you don’t know what you’re up against!”

Pyrrha simply smiled at them. It was a sad smile.

“I know,” she answered, “she’s an ancient evil witch trying to bring about the end of the world, Professor Goodwitch told me, but that’s all the more reason for me to try to protect the people I love, right?”

That was ridiculous. 

That was suicidal . 

Pyrrha couldn’t do this, she couldn’t abandon them just to throw her life away! 

Cinder wouldn’t let her.

Pyrrha wasn’t about to die because of their mistakes.

And if that meant facing her worst fears, then so be it. 

They would not be left behind again.

“You’re right,” they admitted, “and that’s why I’m going with you.”

“What!?” Pyrrha exclaimed.

“You’re only half a maiden, right?” Cinder argued, as if their decision was somehow tactical, “you’re not gonna be able to make a stand without your other half.”

Pyrrha blushed and stammered at that comment, but quickly conceded, “I guess you’re right.”

Protect the ones you love. It was a naive and childish idea - even for Pyrrha - but if it meant keeping her alive, then maybe Cinder could be childish too.

“So, when are we leaving?”

#fanfic #rwby #cinder fall #pyrrha nikos #cinder fall x pyrrha nikos #I think their ship name is pompei? #I'm not sure

[bluemusickid]

Are You Mine?

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem! Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, mentions of cheating (it's Ransom, come on) pretty/very dark (atleast by my standards lol), angst, orgasm denial, slight degradation kink, bondage, Dom/sub dynamics, slight dubcon, mentions of blood, knives, dark!Reader, DEAD DOVE. DO NOT EAT. MINORS DNI.

A/N: I am SUPER late on this. Like really, really late. But there were simply no ideas, WHOOPS. Anyways, I wrote this for @cockslut-padalecki 's challenge and omg it was a whirlwind of emotions! Congratulations, sweetie, you deserve each and every single one of your followers!! I hope this is a good read, I was not so sure of it, tbvh. It took 10 drafts to get it to this point. Whew. Hopefully it has paid off, and hopefully it follows the prompt. 😅

Check out my masterlist for more stories and drabbles and such! I am slowly phasing out taglists, if you wish to read my latest work, you can follow my other blog @lexiscyberlibrary ! Make sure to keep the notifications on! Thank you!!

18+ blog, Minors not welcome, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Not beta'ed, any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise are all mine. I post my stuff only on Tumblr and AO3, nowhere else. I do not give anyone permission to reproduce, copy or translate my work. Dividers by the wonderful @whimsicalrogers 💓 Likes are welcome, reblogs are much appreciated!

Prompt: “I'm not gonna hear your reasons and ‘please-just-take-me-backs.’ We never were right. Don't waste your breath” - How You Love Me Now: Hey Monday

You couldn't believe how naïve you were sometimes. Years of meditation, self control, mind healing classes, all gone to shit. What was this terrible coping mechanism?

You saw Ransom that night. You saw him with a girl. It shouldn't matter to you and yet, it did. It made your heart hurt.

You remembered all the good times you had with him. He was like a beacon of light in your life, making you come alive. But you were insecure, and you knew it. He was always with you, and yet, some part of you always felt that he wasn't. Like he was holding himself back, not divulging his truth. You gave him the benefit of the doubt many times. Home late three days in a row? C'mon, babe, you know it was an hectic and nerve racking time at Blood Like Wine, what with the deal with Netflix coming through. He said this with a flourish, kissing you with ardent passion. You believed him, your senses in a disarray as he worked your body into exhaustion with his ardent and zealous loving; if it could be equated with the feeling.

The next time, his shirt collar was stained with lipstick. You questioned him, yet again, with the answer being prompt. "Babe, you left that mark, remember? On our trip to Concord?" Not giving you time to think, he'd bent you over the table promptly, pulling up your skirt to leave a smack on your plump bottom, fingers ghosting over your clothed pussy.

"You're always so hungry for my cock, kitten. How can you forget all the marks you leave on me, as I fuck this pretty pussy? Looks like i'm gonna have to refresh your memory." He rasped, tearing your panties down and plunging into you, the feel of him being buried to the hilt wiping all your previous thoughts clean. There was no way he'd cheat on you. He loved you too much, you thought, feeling his fingers tighten around your neck as he neared his end.

How naïve of you. How very naïve.

You worst fears came true, the blood in your veins turning to ice. You couldn't believe your eyes as you took in the scene that unfolded in front of your eyes.

It was honestly so cliché, the whole in flagrante delicto thing. But what more could you expect from him? And it was your fault, honestly. You should've trusted your gut instinct, the deeper parts of your brain screaming at you to keep a check on this two-faced monster you called a boyfriend.

You walked out of the house as silently as you could, tears running down your face. You almost felt sorry for the girl he was fucking, whispering sweet nothings into her ear as he took her from behind. Jesus. She'd be a bigger fool if she actually believed his lies.

You sat in car and drove, drove, drove, to god knows where. You stopped at a little nook, switched off your phone and cried. Cried for a few minutes, hours, honestly, who knew? Time evaded you as you sat there, numb. You remembered all the good times, all the vacations and trips, all the memories. All tainted simply because he couldn't get his dick wet enough. You scoffed. You were a bigger fool than that broad. Atleast she was in it only for the sex. You, you were in deeper. You were in it for love, for marriage, for a future with Ransom. It hurt because after so long, his words actually meant something to you. He was the ideal man for you. Yes, he had his vices, but who didn't? You had promised yourself that you could change him, heal him from his past traumas. You would make him better and spend a lifetime together. But now, he'd gone and blown the whole goddamn boat.

You wiped your eyes, taking deep, cleansing breaths, like your therapist had taught you. You knew what you had to do. You just didn't know if you were strong enough to do it.

Ransom walked into your house, ready to fuck you into the mattress. He'd come to enjoy his routine a lot. Spend the day at work, meet a few girls and fuck their brains out and come home to you. Poor, unsuspecting you, who was too stupid for her own good. He felt pity for the naïve, little girl that you were, cleaning after him and always making sure that he'd always had a hot meal to eat. He'd been bored at first, trying to woo you, the prick tease that you were. But those doe-eyes of yours, which looked at him like he was the best thing in this world? Fuck, he'd be lying if he said those didn't get him hard.

He walked in, half expecting you to be cooking dinner, ever the 1950s dame. But what he saw stopped him in his tracks, because what he saw wasn't a cute little mousy creature. It was the subject of his wet dreams. You were in the slinkiest red teddy, with thigh highs, and Louboutins which accentuated the curve of your ass really well. Ransom could already feel himself getting hard, at the mere thought of throwing you to the ground at that instant and fucking you into oblivion.

"You're home early." You said, the sultry undertone to your voice a surprise.

"...Yes. I..I thought I would surprise you but I guess.. I'm the one who's ended up being surprised." He murmured, his voice breaking as he adjusted himself. You saw the movement and smirked, proud of yourself. He wanted you.

"I thought you might like it. I bought as a gift for you. You've been working so hard at the office, and I thought you deserve a lil' reward for all the work that you've been doing."

And so you let the little satin robe slip off your shoulders, watching his eyes darken as the garment floated to the ground.

Time to crank it up a notch.

You half-gasped, half moaned as he deepened the kiss, his tongue ever so slightly touching yours. Pulling free, you let your tongue caress his lips, the soft, pillowy feel driving you nuts. Running it over his lower lip, you sucked on it, slowly allowing your teeth to clamp down. The skin broke and a drop of blood adorned his lip; your tongue darting out and relishing the metallic tang of the liquid. He growled, partly out of pain, but mostly out of arousal. This was a completely different side to his otherwise meek kitten. Was it even her, or a cleverly programmed sex-clone?

He didn't have time to dwell on his questions as you moved your lips, leaving featherlight kisses on his neck. You skimmed your lacy core over the tent formed over his crotch, earning a groan from him; your lips reattaching to his yet again. But this kiss wasn't gentle. The basis of this kiss was pure, unadulterated lust for each other. It was messy, but you didn't pull free, attacking his lips with a ferocity which could only be described as raw animalistic need. Tongues meshed, teeth clashed, you hadn't an inch of space between the two of you and yet it felt like you were miles apart. He grasped your ass tightly, pulling you against him, grinding on his hard-on with all your might. You could feel him hurtling towards completion as his hands gripped your head tightly, his lips becoming even more insistent.

No. This was not how it was meant to go. You pulled away from his lips, standing up suddenly and made your way to the kitchen, rather unsteadily, hearing the faint voice of his, cussing out loudly.

"What the fuck was that, kitten? Why'd you leave me hanging like that?"

"Oh, babe. I put in all this effort for you and you're not even gonna get to taste it? Tsk tsk. Not fair." Moving around, acting like you were prepping for dinner, you continued, "You can do whatever you like to me after we've had this delicious dinner that i've been slaving away on for hours."

"Please, kitten." He gasped, his voice hoarse with arousal.

You jumped slightly as you felt him grip your hips, grinding his unclothed erection on your satin-clad behind. Smirking to yourself, you jut your ass out a little, reveling in the power you held over him at the moment. You'd never seen this side of him before. Of course, it was partly owing to your timid demeanour and partly due to him calling the shots.

He ground into you, gaining speed, his grunts become louder and louder. "Fuck, you have the best ass, kitten. I'm gonna fuck it so hard one day. But today, I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk, 'til you're begging me for mercy. Will you let me, kitten? Will you let me inside? Will you let me fill you with my cum?" He whispered in your ear, his fingers toying with your clit.

"No."

Pushing away his wandering hands, you turned around and faced him, seemingly displeased. He barely masked his annoyance, caging you between him and the counter. You caught his gaze, folding your arms in defiance.

"Show me how much you want me, Hugh."

He stared at you for a long time, trying to decipher your words. You knew how much he hated you calling him by his first name and yet, you did it. To push his buttons, of course. His façade started cracking, bit by bit as moments passed; not a word said between the two of you.

Pressing himself against you, he whispered, "please, baby. I need you." His lips ghosted over your neck, as he undulated, the feel of him rocking against your stomach going straight to your core. He whimpered, afraid of the way he was feeling and behaving. It was truly unheard of for him to beg; and yet, he did. For you. "Please, kitten. Please let me fuck you." He murmured, hissing as you ran a fingernail along the thick vein of his shaft.

Grasping his hand in yours, you pulled him to your room, glancing back to look at him. He followed you, as if in a daze, his eyes wide and pupils wide, in lust.

This was it. This was the moment you were waiting for.

You surveyed your creation. There he was, completely at your mercy. You don't know what exactly was turning you on more, him on the bed tied up like that, or the power that you wielded over him. It was truly heady, and you were ready for what would unfold next.

Climbing over him, you kissed him soundly, your tongue melding with his, moaning as you felt him shift underneath you. He was hot and heavy against your ass, his hips moving against you fervently, hoping for some sort of relief.

Moving down, you trailed your tongue down his torso, stopping only to lave his nipples, his groan travelling straight to your core. You took his shaft in your mouth, determined to make him cum in your mouth. Bobbing your head, you left no stone unturned, your tongue moving along his entire length, as you took him in inch by inch, relishing the feel of it's weight. You gave it your all, taking a page out of the book of that bitch he was with. Whoever said you learn a lot from a cheating partner was right. Ransom was completely lost, fervently tugging against the restraints, resigned to his fate. His hips moved of their own volition as he thrust inside your mouth, groaning at the sight of your face; mascara running down your cheeks, spit and precum on your chin. You decided to show him who's in charge, swallowing him whole and staying there, trying not to gag. With a shout, he thrust upwards, his hot cum flooding your mouth. You gratefully pulled back, taking a deep breath and after a beat, opening your mouth to show him the result of yoir actions, swallowing his seed. Both breathing heavily, you enjoyed his darkening gaze; the fact that he was devouring you with his eyes. He panted, his mouth slack, eyes hungry.

"Kitten, that was...amazing. I've never felt anything this intense. Untie me now, please. I need to fuck you. Need to feel your sweet pussy clenching around me as I fuck you to heaven and back. C'mon, honey."

Your breath quickened, his words volatile to your already aroused self. Giving him a small smile, you reached over to the drawer, pulling out a ball gag. Holding it up, you saw him eye it warily, his arms trying to pull on his restraints.

"What's..that, babe? I..I don't think-"

"Ransom, do you trust me?" You asked softly, your fingers softly tracing his lips. He visibly gulped, squirming a bit, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"O..of course, kitten. You should know that by now." He murmured, his voice laced with uncertainty.

"Good. Because I want you to know that I trust you wholeheartedly, with every pore of my being. I trust you with my love, my life, my soul. I know that you would never do anything to hurt me, and that you would always keep my best interests at heart. And I wished for it to be this way forever, till death do us part."

The words tumbled out of your mouth, as the images of him and girl flashed in front of your eyes, in a loop. You could see him get uncomfortable; a guilty look masking the lust from earlier. Fitting the ball gag in his mouth, you slid down till you reached his crotch, ignoring his soft, muffled protests. Grinding against him till you felt him get hard again, you rubbed him against your wet pussy, juices intermingling and creating a mess.

With a single move, you lowered yourself onto him, burying him inside you, the raw fullness threatening to engulf your senses. His muffled groan turned you on like nothing else as you sped up your actions, losing yourself to the rhythm; till you felt yourself reach your crescendo, and with it bringing him to a finish, as he painted your walls with his spend.

Nighttime soothed you. It calmed you down. There was nothing like a long drive in the dark, with only the streetlights keeping you company as the wind blew against your face.

The events of the night kept playing in your head. You hated how it all ended. You'd actually fallen deeply in love with Ransom. But he never would've learnt, would he? No, he would go back to his philandering ways again. Plunging that knife deep into his heart as he was coming down from his high, from his throes of passion; it broke you. His screams still echoed in your ear, haunting and chilling as they were. The sight of blood oozing out of him, akin to a river, and with it, his life, was a troubling scene; the sound of him choking, weeping and begging you for mercy being the final nail to the coffin. But it had to be done. Repentance, penitence, was a necessity. In a way, you'd liberated him of all his sins and evils. Atleast him and the bitch would be together now.

The radio crooned in the background, the punk rock song playing, a true irony to your predicament.

I'm not gonna hear

Your reasons and "Please, just take me backs"

We never were right

Don't waste your breath

You smiled bitterly, realising how the future had changed in an instant. How he had changed it in an instant. You wished he hadn't cheated. You wished he hadn't been an asshole. Most of all, you wished that your final memories of him wouldn't be the sight of his beautiful blue eyes, filled with fear and unshed tears. But that was his fault. All of it.

Softly caressing your belly, you silently made a vow; to raise your son to be a better man than his late father ever was, or even would be. If only he were a better man, he would've been there to witness his child grow up.

Oh well. Third time would be a charm. Hopefully.

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