#none of them have the heart to ruin it for him so they just suffer through it

[tarjapearce]

Mi Dulce Cereza (Pt. 7)

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

WARNINGS: Telenovela coded drama, emotional distress, Strained Relationships, unexpected visits, mild angst, relationship building, fluff towards the end, Miguel being a softie for his wife.

Summary: Even in darkest times, love shines through.

A/N: Hope you like it :') .

Intro:

"It's your fault." Rosaura's venomous tone didn't go unnoticed by her husband.

"My fault?! I did nothing but raise her well in the Lord's path. I didn't spoil her. If anyone here is at fault is you."

William's voice was ever serene, but his words were vitriolic.

"Me?! How dare you say such things!"

Once back home with empty hands there was nothing but more chaos. Blame turned into a hot potato game of who was the culprit of your apparent rebellious phase. Neither of them wanted to assume that none other than unrealistic and absurd expectations from them towards you had been the spark that started your emancipation fire.

A fire that was shining too brightly for their likings, consuming everything they had known and had taught you. Appearances were unable to be kept any further as your mother was confronted by her friends. Asking her if the rumors of you eloping with the farmer boy were true. It would be always a:

"That wicked man manipulated my daughter. We are trying to get her back, but his lies are convincing enough to keep her by his side."

or a "I'm sure he has her against her will, my little dove would never run away like that. I know her!"

But never a truthful He got her pregnant, claims to love her and now they live in their own home away from this mess trying to live honestly.

The rumors of you getting pregnant had made them another mirror to the single youngsters in town . Rosaura could hear the people talking ill about you and them. How they didn't work hard enough to keep you on check, how they never were firmer and stricter in your upbringing, and how they had been too stupid to actually let the devil in their own home and corrupt you.

It was enough shame to convince her husband and start looking for you. She had been embarrassed enough thanks to your naive games of love. And Miguel.

Her mouth scowled in disgust, heart heavy with resent. He would definitely pay. How dared he to lay his sinful eyes on you? How dared he to lay with you? Even worse, How dared he to take you for himself, impregnated you and call you his wife?

Bold and stupid.

Miguel had ruined her plan of getting you married off to a rich and wonderful man named Sergei Kravinoff. One of the best foreign clients the estate had. He was an avid hunter and collector, that upon seeing your picture was delighted and charmed.

But how was she to explain to him that her only daughter had ran off with the farmer boy? And was now pregnant with his child?

"If you wouldn't pester her with so many dating prospects maybe this... whole mess would have been avoided and she'd be under our roof. Following our rules!"

"Would you shut up?! You let that lowlife to intimidate you. I don't care if he's build like a tree. I want him down, chopped off from the root from her life."

"He's clearly done something to her. Did you see her yelling at us? I'd never seen her like that."

"Hormones make you stupid. And pregnancy hormones make it even worse"

"Just like you when you were pregnant of her. At least he will suffer a little more with that. Once she reaches the second trimester-"

"No no. that's where you're wrong. I won't let her to ruin her life. Sergei wants her!"

"I will have to stop you there, Rosaura. A child life is sacred. Innocent."

"Oh, the wretched child you're always complaining about is now an innocent life?"

"Don't tempt my ire, woman. I know you despise the man. And as much as this situation angers us, that's going too far. That's her punishment for giving in temptation. Let her bear with it."

"You're such an hypocrite. Do you know who Sergei is?"

"I do. Nor care. All I want is my daughter back. There are other ways to break them apart."

"What are you thinking?"

"Confronting them only brings them closer. I fell for her lie of loving him for a minute, but I know it's fear speaking for her. We'll let them be for now."

"No!-"

"And just when they think they are safe, it will be the time for us to step in. Let them have a little sense of security. I'll allow them to finish the place."

"You are waiting too long!"

"Rosaura. Enough. I know what I am doing. I know you hate waiting. But it will be worth it. I know so. Can't let the man that embarrassed me and my family, and tarnished my reputation to go unscathed with my daughter."

"You better keep your promises, William. I hate being lied to."

------

Miguel could barely get a glimpse of sleep during the night. Just when he thought his body would actually give in to the somnolence, he'd startle and remain awake. Pushing the sleepyness away as his mind raced with the many insidious thoughts about last night.

How had your parents found you? With their influence he was sure that they've got the address, they were known through the whole county by their horses business mainly, church was a secondary feat.

His hand ran through his messy hair. You had been put to sleep by Victoria, something he was thankful for. He was no baby expert but it was a commonly known fact that too much stress led up to bad things, and the least he wanted was something else happening. Specially to you or his child.

What had he gotten himself into, this time? He knew your parents were difficult, but this was something completely different from what he expected. He was not only dealing with them, but their direct threats as well.

Not that he wasn't regretting everything that had happened between you two. Had he been too rushed into marrying you? Of course not. He also didn't marry you because you'd be the future mother of his child. He had snatched you away for himself because he loved you. He loved you to bits and pieces and as a whole.

You were too much of a woman to be married to someone else that would treat you badly and wouldn't take his time to actually get to know you. You were too much for the rest of men that never made a step further in their conquer and we're satisfied with little, such as little glances or smiles from you.

He was ambitious, and had wanted it all. He went through so much to get you, still was. But knowing you loved him and even stood your ground against your parents, one of the reasons of his ongoing headache, made it all worth it.

He couldn't quite explain it. At first it was mere lust his body was filled with upon meeting you. The need to corrupt you had proven extremely difficult for him to keep himself at bay. That's why he was always so tempting, so forbidden, so inviting to give in around you.

But you were too sweet and pure. Always being concerned about him, ever attentive and gentle. A stark contrast with his demeanor. He had taken the job since his place needed renovations once and for all. He owed that to himself. He owed that to his old man. Vicky's late husband.

And then he had met you, for real. At first he thought of you another gorgeous spoiled, and dumb city girl if he was honest, but as time kept on passing, he was proven wrong in so many ways he felt the need to apologize to you as soon as you'd wake up later.

You were smart, not a genius but smart enough to be a fast learner and help your father with the finances, heavenly cooking skills and so eager to be more than a bimbo wife, a life most of your old friends had settled for. You had gone to college, just like him. You cared for those around you even if that meant to face your mother, just like him. You both were so alike in so many ways it'd be foolish to let you go.

What got him grovelling at your feet was your innocence and your will to make something out of your life even if your parents sabotaged you. The strength in you, the perseverance and hard work you had shown him even to this very day was the deal maker. And soon enough you'd make him a father.

You weren't only making his most precious dream come true, but were in tandem helping in making your love nest.

Investing all of your energies in building your forever home. Your own sanctuary and safe place with him.

And now it was his time to protect you, to stood his ground like you had done for him.

The room was filled with a warm and golden orange and yellow hues, basking the place in a gentle light, as if the universe was telling him 'Everything will be fine'. A hopeful thought to his already rattled mind. He was exhausted.

Exhausted of hiding and running away only to be harassed later. But that wouldn't stop him from working, no. There was still so much left to do around the hacienda.

With a deep breath he looked your way. A small tug on his heart sent a painful stab kn his chest at your expression. Frowning brows, hands clutched to the sheets and pillows, probably pretending it was him and puffy eyes that served as proof of your cries last night.

Your rage was something else. It made his tired smile to soften into a more admiring one. He hoped to never face it, cause he was sure he'd be on his knees, asking for forgiveness if you wished, even if it was over something so silly and irrelevant.

With a soft croak, you stirred and he embraced you gently. You were scared and asking for him last night, something he regretted to not have fulfilled sooner. But you and his child's safety was the main priority.

He'd have to talk to Joseph and Paco about new rounds done through the day. He couldn't install the safety cameras yet cause his area would take a lot to cover and it wasn't finished yet. If only he'd have some sort of superpower to make everything faster.

But the only power he had right now was to provide comfort to your heart and head. He'd die before something happening to you.

A mental slap came to his mind upon such though. If he died there was none else to look after you.

Even his mind needed a break. Birds chirped merrily, announcing the six am. But his body felt heavier and more sluggish than usual, his mind unclear as a fog came over his thoughts. He wasn't used to pull all-nighters. You turned on your side and curled in his chest, finally taking a hold of him. Eyes fluttered open, relief etched to your features.

Your arms embraced him so desperate it quickly had your eyes all glossy and teary again.

"Hey..." He mumbled with a lip tight smile.

You sobbed in his cradling arms.

"I'm so sorry, Miguel."

A gentle shhh came from him. His calloused fingers ventured through the strands of your hair, caressing with such care he'd thought you'd break.

"Why are you apologizing, cariño?"

"For everything that happened last night. You don't deserve this."

"Last night wasn't good for anyone, you specially, mi amor. But you are safe here. "

"It's not about that... I'm... scared. My father knows where we live now. And he could-"

"Cerecita, mi reina. Look." He sat on the bed and took a hold of your hand, to then kiss softly at the back of your palm, "Your father can make all the threats he wants, hell... He can even tear this place down if he wants to, but he won't take me away from you."

Your hand trembled in between his. You wanted to sit, but he laid back again, draping the sheets closer to you, making sure you were warm. Like a cocoon in his arms.

"It's not about that. You don't understand Miguel. My father is a man of word-."

"So am I." His fingers grazed your cheek softly, "I promised you that we'd be happy. And we will. I don't know how and I know it's scary for us, but as long as we are together, we will."

"I don't want you to get hurt. I... I couldn't stand something happening to you just cause my parents are too petty to acknowledge I married you."

"The only thing that would kill me? Is you leaving through that door and never come back. "

The sheer thoughts brought tears to your eyes. Hormones had also woken up to make a riot on your mind.

"Don't say that, please."

He kissed the top of your head and stared down at you.

"I know this is far from over, and trouble might keep coming. The only thing I am asking from you, is to stay strong. Can you do that for me, preciosa?"

"I can try"

"Good. That's all I'm asking, really. If you're strong, I'm strong."

You gave another silent sob while he peppered your face in gentle kisses. Soothing your worries away.

But he was scared too. Not a childish sort of fear, but something deeper. He knew that your parents were dense, if not denser than water itself. And would try things to keep you on edge, or worse try and mess with his estate.

Fear tactics won't make him lower his head and coward. Not when his pregnant wife was next to him crying, stressing and feeling guilty. Your fingers however traced his face gently, his tired lids drooped, as his eyes stared at you, curious yet fearful.

"Did you get some sleep?"

He chuckled bashfully, "I look that rundown?"

"No. But you do look tired. You're not used to stay up past twelve."

A tired and airy chuckle flared out his nose, his fingers took yours to then kiss the knuckles.

"I know."

Sleepiness had weighed him down completely, body made out of lead and muscles sore. Begging him to catch a break and sleep.

"You'll get grumpy" your hand slipped away from his and went to his face again, caressing and holding onto him. Grounding his wandering thoughts towards you. Anchoring himself in your loving and preocuppied stare.

"You need sleep. I'm sure Vicky will understand. Please?"

"Can't say no to you."

Doting arms embraced his neck, pulling him closer to your chest, it was your turn to protect him. He was always making sure you had everything, that you were alright. A giver by nature.

Just like you. This time you assured he'd cuddle in your chest, sharp cheeks rested on your mounds, ear pressed against you; allowing the steady beats of your heart lull him to sleep while you played with his hair.

Vicky didn't knock the door to awake you.

-----

You both awoke around 11 am, past breakfast. Vicky had instructed the construction workers where to keep building, guiding them in Miguel's absence. Victoria knew the plans her son had, so it was relatively easy to give orders. Some days more and the barn would be completely ready to then move to fencing properly the land.

It was a bit more money, but after much thought, a vynil fencing would be perfect. It not only offered privacy, but the chances of someone sneaking in would be less than 0, unless you knew the property like the back of one's hand.

To your dismay you had only seen the first part of it. If Miguel wished, he could start selling his own produce in the farmer's market. But right now, the soil was covered in weeds, and other invasive plants and thickets. It would be the final part of the renovations.

Vicky knocked the door, Miguel opened to reveal his mother with trays of food and some tea for you. She had heard the retching from the outside door. Stress was making your morning sickness worse and having an empty stomach didn't help either.

"Got you some things that will help you, and you too."

Vicky beckoned Miguel to help her, The little coffee table inside the room was used as support, brunch was served.

"Thank you Vicky" She patted your shoulder gently, as she served some flowery smelling tea.

"Don't you worry about it. You're making me a grandma soon."

The sweet smell and taste of the steamy liquid made your stomach settle gradually. Then you started eating with ferocious appetite. Miguel had his big cup of coffee, and ate as well, but his appetite was little.

Vicky smacked the back of his shoulder softly.

"Deja de preocuparte y come." (Stop over thinking and eat.)

Your hand slid into his and squeezed.

"Miguel?"

"Hm?"

"I'm scared too. But I also know that having us demoralized and afraid won't do good for us."

He pulled you closer and kissed your head for the umpteenth time, comfort and love were words you could use if you'd get asked what his hugs felt like. Despite his rough and cold demeanor he was one of the sweetest and gentle man you had ever encounter, even if his actions spoke volumes for him.

His head remained out of his hat, the piece had suffocated him enough through a good chunk of the previous night.

"That's exactly what those cabrones want. No offense, dear"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"Vicky is right. Whatever comes, we will face it together. As a family."

His eyes softened as you placed his hand on your belly.

"One day I'm sure this will be one of those stories you'll tell your kids when they get older and wanna know about family drama"

Miguel couldn't help but snort at Vicky's insinuation. But deep down he felt grateful. Thankful enough that two of the most important people in his life were reassuring him. His devoted and short tempered mother, a crucial part of his heart and now you and his growing child. All around him, promising they'd all be fine.

He needed to believe it. This wasn't one of the moments he was allowed to flank. He needed himself strong, steady with his head high. Ever vigilant and ready to face everything that came his way. He was an O'Hara. And O'Hara's endured.

That was his own mantra, bestowed and honored by previous generations.

The brunch and Victoria's presence had helped you both to ease the rising nerves and the subtle anxiety that undermined your head with unhealthy and raucous thoughts. Instead, even if a temporary distraction, work in the estate kept going. After all, it would take so much more than just a threat to break your spirits.

---

Miguel had tended to the barn and foresaw the fencing advance. Construction materials would be brought over the weekend to immediately start making his private property even more secluded, away from prying eyes and anyone stupid enough that tried to venture within the hacienda.

And after yesterday's fiasco, Miguel had come up with a new plan about security rounds until the fencing started. Just as he was about to explain, Joseph called him, a bit concern etched into his face.

"What now?"

"It's not the people from yesterday, but they claim to know your wife, Boss."

"How many of them are there?"

"Just three. Two women and a man."

He nodded and put his hand on his neck, trying to ease the tension that refused to leave his body despite the many attempts of cheering his spirits up.

"Where's my Cerecita?"

"Uh, with Vicky in the orchard."

"Right. Stay here in case there's trouble."

Joseph nodded and stood his ground, as he watched Miguel leaving.

Who would be this time? He wasn't armed this time, so whoever that had ill intentions with him would have to face the might of his fists.

But the silent threat remained as nothing but that. The only noises around were him, the gravel crunching underneath his boots, the subtle wind that played tag between the trees, little birds here and there and finally, the voices of people he knew, but didn't remember their names or faces .

A cool gust of wind threatened his hat to be blown off his head, but he secured it with a hand. Upon arriving, his surprise couldn't be hidden.

The two ladies were the one that helped you pack and were deeply saddened at your leaving. He always saw them around you, laughing and sharing whenever your mother wasn't around to shoo them away from you. And the man, one of the helpers back at your parent's barn.

"Mr. O'Hara? Im really sorry to bother, and showing up like this after what happened."

One of the women spoke. Miguel was cautious, and so far his intentions of opening the door didn't ring a bell on him. For all he knew your parents could have sent them to spy you.

"We quit. That Rosaura lady slapped my sister and it was enough for us. We were planning on leaving the estate even before the Miss left with ya."

But that definitely sounded something his beloved mother in law would do.

"I know you have zero reasons to believe us, but trust us. None back at the estate really liked the missus's parents either. We could only hold up for so long before everything came down. But we needed the jobs."

"I understand." With a sigh, Miguel opened the door and allowed them in.

A little rounds of thank yous echoed behind him before he guided them back at the main estate.

"Will you let us stay? Just for the night of course. "

"You'll have to talk to La Patrona." (The boss)

He chuckled upon you coming to his mind, "My wife I mean."

A little of hushed yet excited whispers trailed him along some 'I told you!' 'She did it!'.

The reunion was loud as he had expected. Loaded of hugs, heartfelt congratulations and of course them rubbing your belly.

Mary, the big sister was two years older than you, she had been one of the few that approached you with genuine friendship back at home, her sister, Susan was your age, even though she was on the quieter side, she was disciplined enough to keep herself busy and out of trouble. Always doing something. However her eyes kept wandering to Joseph.

They had asked your permission to stay overnight before returning to their hometown the next day. Of course you agreed.

They helped you to prepare everything, letting Vicky to rest for a bit. Even though they had spark, Vicky observed them with hard eyes, trying to decipher their true intentions. And so far she had found nothing. Not even in the man that quickly established a conversation between Paco and Joseph.

And soon all of you sat down at the table that seemed smaller.

"Like I was telling Mr. O'Hara, you mother was livid after you left."

"She was like a child throwing a tantrum, telling Pastor William to do something"

"Yeah, that's sounds like mom" An awkward smile came to your face as they spoke.

"But after last night, it was enough for us. She slapped Susan in the face when she got her the wrong dress."

Vicky couldn't hold back her gasp and contempt

"Dios mío, esa mujer ha enloquecido" (My God, that woman has gone mad)

"I'm really sorry it had to come to this point."

"Ya can't blame yourself, darlin" Mary spoke, letting her southern accent shine through for a second, "Ever since ya left people have been leaving, only to be replaced within some days."

"No wonder why they came in so pissed" You mumbled with a little giggle.

"How's... Agustín?"

Their faces fell and the man, his old helper James spoke.

"Pastor sold him to a guy. Joaquín is kinda sick and Luis, is the only one they actually pay attention to. You know, Joaquín is old so..."

Miguel could only nod with a saddened yet expected smile. It was a matter of time for Agustín to be sold.

"Do you know by chance who he got sold off to?"

"Some russian named Kravi- Uh... Kravinoff?"

"I see." Miguel’s shoulder slumped for a moment. At least he wasn't sent off to the meat market, "Hopefully that man knows how to treat him."

"He seems into animals a bit too much, sir. A bit eccentric with his fur coats. But apparently the man is a collector and the missus's parents best client."

Of course. Agustín was a purebred friesian stallion after all. His worth was over 20k.

You slid a hand on Miguel's thigh comfortingly. His subtle blue mood contagious. A lot of details you both were missing were spilled in the table.

Even though Miguel wasn't one for gossips, hearing your parents struggling to keep the appearances had definitely put a smile on his face. It served them right after all the unhinged things they had done. But he didn't let go that easy the fact that from all the horses remaining, Luis was the only one that was being properly taken care of.

Your horse.

A little hope shone in his darkened by fears heart. He didn't care if he was called a dreamer, but sometimes he pondered how would be his relationship with your parents would've been if they had a completely reaction to him.

Would they tolerate him? Would they be excited for being grandparents? Would they be happy for you instead of being petty and spiteful about it? He didn't know.

And he was tired of thinking over and over. Vicky's words remained closer to his heart.

If isn't your stubbornness, it's your love that will convince them.

But that was a very distant and utopian thought. All that mattered in his present was you and his new growing family.

The guest cabin was taken by the ladies and James joined Paco and Joseph.

Vicky drew you a warm bath to ease the remaining tension off your body. Miguel had been watching you. The changes in your body suited beautifully. Plump breasts, hips and thighs, gorgeous sudsy skin that had some flower petals adhered to it, enhancing it's beauty. You were the purest form of art before his eyes. The mother of his children. His wife.

He marvelled at the way you smiled upon rubbing your belly. The illusion of being a mother surely took you by surprise, but with Miguel's reassurance, you were excited even to meet your child. The ultimate physical form of love between you two.

Puppy and rusty brown eyes fixed on you as you let your hair down, letting the strands to cover your back to wash them next.

He stepped in. With a kiss on your temple and a bashful smile he sat behind you.

"Mira nomás qué chulada." (Look at that, so beautiful)

He pried gently the shampoo bottle off your hands and poured some on his hands to then lather your scalp with it. The lovely smell of cherries wafted in the air as foam appeared in your head while he massaged your scalp adoringly.

You hummed in approval at the careful and soft movements of his fingers. Inducing a relaxed state over you.

"Miguel?"

"Yes, Cerecita?" His voice matching his fingers.

"I don't ever regret marrying you."

His fingers faltered for a moment before resuming his washing. It was as if the doubts on his heart had secretly found a way to your ears and you were now reassuring him.

"You've the best thing that has shown up into that old house. Still are."

"Gotta be thankful to your parents for creating you, preciosa. Unbearable as they are"

The both of you chuckled, ignoring the looming dark skies that blended within the night's mantle.

"I'll take in Mary and Susan. I'm sure they'd be wonderful help around here."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I will pay them of my own money I've saved. So don't worry"

"No, no, let me take them in."

"Miguel, all of these renovations are coming off your pocket. We are a team now, I know somehow it will work out. Let me help you."

He accepted his defeat with a little slump in his shoulders and lazy smile.

"Alright, as you wish, mi corazón."

"What do you love the most about me?"

His hands took the bathtub's head shower and rinsed your hair. Water splashing on his skin, like the sudden question.

"Your bravery, empathy towards others and loyalty. And you're drop dead gorgeous too."

Your cheeks warmed up with a little flush on them as he spoke.

"What about you, Cerecita? What does my wife loves about me?"

"Since you snatched the words off my mouth, I'd say loyalty, honesty and resilience." You took his hands in yours, weaving your fingers between his and smiled, "Many would've given up on me at this point because of my parents but..."

Another kiss, "Hearing you calling me your wife makes me all happy and the good kind of dumb. I know we won't have good days, or that we will be far from perfect but, You've taught me so much about myself is wonderful. "

His hands secured yours as another kiss on your temple was given.

"Thanks for not giving up on me, Miguel."

"Thanks for being my wife, Cerecita."

Your smile disarmed him. And that night your wish of being asleep in his arms came true. There was no horrors that lurked in the shadows.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #Ranchero Miguel 🐎 #Mi Dulce Cereza #🍒🕷️ #La Novela #miguel ohara x you #Miguel o'hara fluff #Spotify

[ataleofcrowns]

I love A and Xs friendship, it’s very cute how X gets a bit sheepish(?) around A. Will we ever get to see how they got so close or abt the time they met?

Begging for A/X crumbs

I actually have a bonus snippet up on my Patreon going into the first time A and X met, as well as a snippet of a romantic scenario for the two of them! They're available for tiers 2/3 (Successor and Crown tiers).

Here's some excerpts that I think A/X shippers might enjoy!

For the first time they met, told from A's POV:

“Well, well, aren’t you ambitious,” Xelef says, smirking with amusement, and Azad can’t tell if he’s being derisive or not. “I’d introduce myself, but I’m sure you already know who I am.” Whatever Xelef’s intent, Azad feels the urge to establish himself as an equal—or, at least, undermine Xelef’s composure to level the playing field. “Indeed,” Azad says after a pause, then points out: “You have ghoul pus on your tunic.” The tactic works even better than expected. “What?” Xelef startles, looking down at the purplish smear on his robes, recoiling when he sees it. “Oh no, no no no! Disgusting!” Azad watches with no small amount of bemusement as Xelef rips the straps of his leather armor pieces off his chest and then tears his tunic off his head, throwing it to the ground. “Did you really just remove your armor over that?” Azad remarks faintly, though his eyes dip down Xelef’s chest before he realizes what he’s doing. Glancing over the thick dark hair that trails from his chest to his stomach and past his bellybutton—until Xelef notices. “You’re welcome for the view,” he says, seeming to momentarily forget his disgust as he puts a hand on his hip. Azad quickly averts his eyes, scoffing. “What view? That of a mercenary squealing like a child over some pus?” To his amazement, Xelef bends down and picks up his leather armor, reattaching the pieces without his tunic. “Pardon me for valuing cleanliness,” Xelef huffs, and Azad notices a bit of dried purple liquid in his hair. He thinks it better not to mention, considering Xelef’s reaction, until Xelef says: “In any case, you’re also welcome for us doing your job. Don’t worry, in my magnanimous generosity, I won’t expect payment.” To the Void with that, then. “You also have pus in your hair,” Azad points out mercilessly, and Xelef’s eyes go wide with horror. “NO!” He turns to a masked mercenary nearby, gesturing at his head in panic. “Heval, water! WATER! NOW!” Azad can’t help himself, letting a laugh slip, and Xelef turns to him with indignation. “You think this is a joke?” Xelef yells. “My hair is ruined and you’re laughing! I could turn into a ghoul—” The masked mercenary, Heval, lets out a long-suffering sigh as they take a flask from their belt and approaches. “That’s not how that works, chief.”

For the romantic scenario, told from X's POV:

Xelara sighs, leaning forward to rest her chin thoughtlessly on Ashti’s shoulder from behind her. “I don’t think we’ll find your hidden compartment in here.” It’s a casual gesture that isn’t supposed to mean anything, beyond the indication for how comfortable Xelara feels around Ashti. She knows Ashti is slow to warm up to physical affection, but they’ve gotten to a point where an arm over the shoulder or a hug isn’t uncommon for them. She thought this would be received the same—but then she feels Ashti stiffen. She focuses, and hears Ashti’s heart starting to beat faster in her chest. Feels her body heat begin to rise. “Right,” Ashti speaks after a noticeable pause, fingers clenched around the closet door she’s holding onto. Xelara considers whether to pull away. She can sense that the touch is either making Ashti nervous, or excited, or both, judging from the way her body reacts. None of those possibilities necessarily indicate that it’s wanted. “Do you mind?” she asks quietly, and Ashti’s heart beat flutters. Xelara bites down on her lip in an attempt to suppress a smile; she simply can’t help it. Ashti is so adorable whenever she gets flustered. “No,” Ashti responds haltingly, even while her posture is tenser than stone. She clears her throat, attempting to brush over it. “I’m used to your clinginess by now.” “Really?” Xelara shuffles a little closer, her chin atop Ashti’s shoulder still the only point of contact, but she hears Ashti’s breath catch all the same. “So you won’t mind if I hug you like this?” Ashti’s heart starts to pound, her neck all but glowing heat against the side of Xelara’s face. “…No.” Xelara’s hands lift to grip Ashti’s waist, fingers lightly curling around either side. Ashti doesn’t move a single muscle. “Are you sure?”

#i'll probably also end up releasing the first one and a few more for the public in the future!! #ask #anonymous #a tale of crowns #azad/ashti #xelara/xelef #a/x #patreon

[vi-trying-to-survive]

Don’t Tell

Anthony Lockwood x f!Reader

Warnings: None this is just fluff only ;) 💖💖💖

Summary: Y/N and Lockwood have been together for a while now, but they’d rather have the first few moments of their relationship to themselves. Still, that doesn’t stop them from having a few mishaps before they finally decide to let George and Lucy in on the secret.

A/N: I really really hope you guys like this one :) 💖💖💖 It took a while cause it is slightly longer :’) 💖💖💖 but I just wanna say I love the fake dating trope, I legit live for it :) 💖💖💖 and I hope you do too ;) 💖💖💖 Other than that I hope you have a great day :) 💖💖💖

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He pulled away, leaving her breathless. She laced her fingers through his hair, pulling herself to be closer to him. It looked desperate and it was desperate, she could admit that. It had been a long day. Somehow they had ended up entangled, on his bed, it was sinking in under the weight of them. He hovered over her, chewing his lip slightly, “So maybe we shouldn’t tell George and Lucy yet ?”.

“I- Why ?”, her forehead was crinkled. There didn’t seem to be any proper reason to withhold them from this fact.

He frowned, collapsing over her. She gasped, her lips parted in shock. He didn’t seem to notice, resting his head on her chest, “It’ll ruin the whole group dynamic”.

“Plus George is not the best with change”, his voice vibrated on her skin, sending chills down her spine.

She adjusted herself to face him, a brow raised, “That is true, but still are you sure it’s not cause you don’t want people to know we’re together ?”. It was teasing, but a small voice in the back of her head taunted her. What if he was embarrassed of her ? What if this was all for the sake of his reputation ? She hurriedly shook the thoughts from her mind. He would never do that to her.

“I am most definitely sure”, he leaned back, gaze fixed on hers. Her heart pounded in her chest. She turned away, feeling vulnerable.

He tilted her head back to his with a finger, “Why would anyone ever want to hide you ?”. His voice was quiet, like he was asking himself a question. His eyes flickered to her lips before coming back to meet hers.

She suddenly felt self conscious. Whining she covered her face with a hand, “Lockwood”.

“I’m being serious, I promise”, he laughed, pulling her arm away.

His palm remained on her cheek, gently running his thumb back and forth. She leaned into his touch. Gently he pressed his lips onto hers. His taste of bergamot and honey never got old. She smiled into the kiss. They parted for air and he gave her a lopsided grin, “Just for a few months, until we finish our current jobs and then we’ll tell them”.

“I promise”, he linked their pinkies, curling them together.

“Fine, but if anyone asks, this was your idea”, she rolled her eyes. Somehow, he could always convince her to do anything, and he was all to aware of that. He was lucky she loved him. Still, what was a few months right ? They could pull this off, they have done worse before.

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“Morning”, he whispered, tugging her closer to him.

She yawned, “Mmhm, good morning”. She pressed her lips against his cheek, before snuggling her face deeper into his neck.

“This is nice”, he smiled, running his fingers through her hair.

Her eyes fluttered shut and she pulled the covers up to her nose, “Yes it is, but now you have to get out”.

“What ? Why ?”, his eyes went wide.

She patted him on the chest, “You were the one who wanted to hide our relationship”. Was it a little mean ? Maybe, still it was his idea and so he had to suffer the consequences. Plus, she wasn’t going to be out of bed at 6 am if she didn’t have to. If she had to sacrifice his heat and comfort for that, so be it.

“No one’s awake right now”, he groaned into her hair.

She pressed her lips together, trying hard not to giggle, “George is an early riser”.

“Darling, don’t make me”, he was annoyed, but his legs were already hanging of the edge of the bed.

The springs of the mattress creaked at the loss of his weight. He was mumbling under his breath, but she just laughed, “Bye-bye”.

The door clicked open, and he padded out, but just as it was about to swing closed it just didn’t. She opened an eye at the offensive lack of noise. The room was dark except for a sliver of light shining through the hallway. She winced at the sudden bright light, hissing at the cold air as she got out of bed, but stopped when she heard another door.

A part of her longed to tuck herself back to sleep, but her other half won, as she peered out the crack in the door. His back was to her, hair still ruffled, “I- George”. She could only imagine the look on his face.

“Lockwood what are you doing awake at this time ?”, his brows were furrowed inquisitively.

“I- I uh- Actually I wanted to talk to you”, she wondered if George could hear the unsteadiness in his voice.

“About what ?”, he sounded even more confused.

She held her breath, silently reassuring herself that he would be able to think of a believable lie, though his track-record said otherwise. This was it, a whole 2 weeks in and they were about to be caught. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, “About- You know I think we need to reevaluate the effectiveness our organisation system”.

“You really think so ?”, he grinned. What ? How had that worked ? She figured she should just be thankful that it did, and that he hadn’t gotten suspicious.

“Definitely”, he was nodding his head.

She watched as George’s shadow descended the stairs, “So was I, I had a few ideas that I wanted to run by you”.

She clamped a hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, sneaking a glance at him as he threw his head back, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He caught her eye and glared, but again, this was his plan she thought. She could only give him a sympathetic smile and shrug her shoulders.

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“Has anyone seen the forms that we needed to send to DEPRAC”, his fingers ran through his hair. She chewed her bottom lip. He was worried, and she couldn’t blame him. As an agency they haven’t exactly had a great relationship with the government, which could be a problem at times. Let’s be honest, most of the time.

Lucy sat across from her, forehead creased, “No, can you remember where you last saw them ?”.

He frowned, “I-”.

She felt her chest tighten at his expression and thought hard. “You put them into that book, I can’t remember what it was called, but then you put it into the second drawer of your desk”, she snapped her fingers, putting her mug down.

He was beaming, “Right, thanks”. She grinned back. Sending her a wink, he bounded out of the room, presumably to fetch the papers. She looked away, her stomach doing a flip. How is it that this still happened, despite them being together for a month.

“Great memory ?”, Lucy took a sip from her cup, eyeing her suspiciously. The smile fell from her face, she blew over her cup, the steam flying up. She could think of a believable, convincing response.

She bit her lip, “I uh- Yeah”. Right, so maybe it wasn’t one of her best moments, but in her defence, it was hard to think of a good enough answer under Lucy’s piercing gaze. She was only glad he was not here to catch it, knowing she would never hear the end of it.

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“Is that- Is that a hickey ?”, her eyes went wide, a heat rising to her face. She hastily put away the groceries in their cupboards. Shit shit shit. Tilting her head to the left, she could see that his mouth was gaping just a little.

She spun around, with tight-lipped smile, “I- No, no of course not, I actually”. George and Lucy shared a glance, and she took the opportunity to send him a pointed look. She had specifically told him not to make it visible, but he was persistent and stubborn. It’s not like she wasn’t enjoying it in the moment, but now she was beginning to regret it. She cursed under her breath. Think of something, she mouthed at him.

He grinned, “She fell down yesterday”. He nodded at her. Another one of his brilliant ideas, she thought she could cry right there.

George raised a brow, “She fell down, on her neck ?”. He didn’t sound like he believed them. Hell, she didn’t even believe them. Still, he looked so confident, she wanted to laugh. Hopefully it would just blow over their heads.

“Yes, while we were doing the shopping, she just missed a step and there she was on the ground”, he gestured plaintively. Please give up she thought. Thankfully they shrugged their shoulders and continued their breakfast. She sighed, relieved that their interrogation was over, but she still punched his arm as she took a seat at the table.

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It had been 3 months of sneaking around and lying, of stolen kisses and secret dates. They never went a week without a single slip up or mistake, and despite it all they had somehow pulled it off, George and Lucy both did not have an inkling of an idea that they were in a relationship. Still, they had had enough of it. Everything was becoming a bit overwhelming and they would much rather let their friends in on the secret.

They stood on the stairs out of view, she on the step above him, making her slightly taller. He had his arms around her waist and hers were around his neck. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, “Are you sure ?”.

He only nodded his head, giving her a kiss on the forehead. This was hard for him, change, it had always been the four of them, friends. He was worried that this, them, would change all that, and a part of her worried that too, but the greater part of her was sure that their friends would be welcoming to the idea. She pressed her lips together to stop the wide grin from forming. Gently he entangled himself from her, except for their hands still interlocked, leading her to the living room.

The room was dimly lit, their heads immediately turned as they entered. Their gaze shifted down to their intertwined hands for a second before coming back to their faces. He squeezed her palm, “Right so, I um- We have something to tell you guys”.

“That you guys are dating ?”, George didn’t even look up from his book.

She was puzzled, pursing her lips, “I- How did you know ?”. They were so subtle, so discreet. Just a few minutes ago they were giving each other pats on the back for their acting abilities. Clearly it was starting to look like the exact opposite.

“We both knew for the longest time, it was quite obvious”, Lucy gave her an apologetic look.

“And you never said anything ?”, he ran a palm across his face. Well now she just felt embarrassed. They shared a sheepish smile.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I mean we just wanted to see how long you too would manage”.

She rolled her eyes plopping down onto the sofa. He was not far behind her, an arm was instinctively at her side, and she leaned into him. At least now they didn’t have to second guess every choice they made. George grinned, finally peeking up from behind the papers, “That and it was extremely entertaining, for us at least”. They both laughed. He groaned, chucking a cushion at their friend, which he easily dodged. She couldn’t help but laugh too as he buried his face in her hair.

#anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood oneshot #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood fic #anthony lockwood imagine #lockwood and co fanfiction #lockwood and co #lockwood and co imagines #lockwood and co fluff #lockwood and co fic #lockwood and co oneshot #lockwood and co x reader #lockwood and co netflix #lockwood and co x you #lockwood and co season 2 #lockwood x reader #lockwood x you #lucy carlyle #george karim #cameron chapman #ruby stokes #ali hadji heshmati #jonathan stroud

[theladyofbloodshed]

Hunt x Nesta - Epilogue

Life sucked.

Hunt could split his life into two chapters: before Nesta and after Nesta. Both chapters sucked. But that little blip in the middle – the one week where life had been better than he ever expected was good. He’d always have that.

‘Stop moping, my goodness.’

Isaiah groaned from his desk then dropped his forehead onto the cheap wood.

‘Everything reminds me of her,’ Hunt replied, holding up a sugar sachet from the crappy coffee machine.

It was true. Hunt could draw a correlation to Nesta regardless of the topic; she liked it, she would have hated it, he wished he could show her it, they’d tried it.

He had loved Shahar but it had been intense from the start. The rebellion had intensified every moment of it, pushing them both towards a zenith that he free-fell from. Losing her was different. It was a loss that held finality – but Hunt had lost so many that day, had suffered so much as a result, the grief had been for Shahar and all the others who'd fought alongside him.

To Shahar, he had been Hunt, a powerful angel plucked from the bowels of Pangea to command her legions.

This was different.

To Nesta, he’d only ever been Orion. Grumpy, sleepy, teasing, serious, or goofy, she’d wanted all of him. And Nesta wasn’t dead but it would have hurt less if she was.

Night after night, Hunt scoured the internet on any whiff of something similar to the Horn to try and find a way back to her. He’d deal with breeches and no hair dryer if it meant they were together again. He’d even wondered if Ruhn Danaan would know anything about another fae relic because Isaiah couldn’t be persuaded to get another warrant to search the Autumn King’s home for hidden artefacts.

‘I know that you miss her, Hunt, but it’s just not possible to find her again,’ he said calmly.

Those same words had been said to him a month earlier, also by Isaiah, when he’d found Hunt deliberating in the street. He’d gathered is hard-earned coins ready to dump them all in the Astronomer’s lap so that he’d use his mystics to locate her. In the end, it proved too risky. Hunt wouldn’t dare to expose Nesta that way.

‘It fucking sucks,’ replied Hunt before shuffling back to his desk for a long night of paperwork.

When Nesta left, Hunt expected a depression to come and drown him. He’d been there before and it always lurked in his periphery. But she’d given him hope and it felt different. The light didn’t abate in her absence; the flame remained burning. So he worked and worked. Did what Micah asked. Treaded every single line without complaint. And he thought of her. Thought of her smile, her curiosity, the way she had him wrapped around her finger in a single day.

***

‘What now?’

Emerie’s brown eyes had dulled from their week of absolute hell. She sat on the cushioned windowsill of the river estate with mud still caked over her face. Nesta looked down at her own hands. They were splattered with a mix of blood. Some was hers, Cassian’s, Bellius’, and Feyre’s.

Her stomach was empty enough that it hurt. She’d see a healer soon. Gwyn had the worst injuries so was with Madja in a separate room.

A small cry rang out down the hall from the baby boy, Nyx.

Feyre had died. Her heart had stopped beating. Nesta had felt the whole world turn colder, felt the knife coming for Feyre’s thread, so Nesta did the only thing she could think of. Still beaten and ruined from the Blood Rite, she gave her power back. She gave it all back.

And Feyre lived. The boy lived.

Nesta wedged her aching body into the windowsill next to Emerie, wishing they were a different set of wings cradling her shoulders.

It had been a tough few months since her little jaunt to Lunathion.

To his credit, Lucien did not speak of what he saw. He simply pretended the entire event had never happened and acted with all the quality of one the males from Fangs and Bangs when it was discovered by the others that Nesta had returned. It was their secret, never to be mentioned. She was grateful for that.

None ever questioned her moroseness because it was no different to her capricious ways. She could feel herself pushing everybody away, as always, week after week without Hunt’s infectious joy. The idea of Cassian touching her churned her stomach. She’d put an end to it, dumbfounding him. And when her sister’s family had convinced her to seduce Eris through dance, it confirmed to Nesta that all she would ever be was a pawn to be used for their benefit. When Eris had shown interest, Nesta had considered it if only to have a lifeline out of the Night Court.

‘I don’t even know if it will work,’ Nesta said quietly, tilting her head to touch Emerie’s.

The pair of them absolutely reeked. Being dragged from their beds and dumped onto Ramiel for a week would do that. Only sheer grit and hoping had kept them alive. That, and Gwyn bringing a beast to slaughter eight of the Illyrians.

‘It’s worth a try,’ replied Emerie.

They’d huddled together in the dark, cold and tired but not willing to sleep. And Nesta had told Emerie and Gwyn everything about the male she’d found in Lunathion. How she could not even go an hour without thinking of him, without imagining a life together. They’d listened with rapture, delighted for her as true friends were. Even when she cried at the thought of leaving them behind, they encouraged her to take her chance if they made it out alive because they loved her enough to let her go and find happiness.

‘It’s complicated.’

‘What’s complicated? Toot the horn and fly off with your angel.’

Gwyn limped into the room in her filthy clothes. ‘Who’s tooting? Are we tooting?’

‘Nesta’s about to go to the future with her angel lover.’

Instead of indignation, colour heated her cheeks and she felt like a giggling, love-struck fool. ‘He is so handsome.’

The cell phone had died quickly from all the moments that Nesta had spent agonising over photos of the Umbra Mortis in his boxers, as he called them.

‘So we have heard,’ Emerie replied drily.

Nesta shoved her heart back into its cage. ‘It’s impossible. I’ve surrendered my power. The Horn won’t work. Hunt is a slave. It’s been almost four months. He could be sold by now to another owner.’

‘Then buy him back,’ urged Gwyn.

‘With what?’

Emerie braced a hand against her ribs as she stood. ‘Well, the High Lord did offer you anything for saving their lives.’

‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Rhysand would never agree to let me go, much less give me a pile of his wealth to send me on way. They still think Cassian is my mate. That the bond will snap. If it didn’t snap when Briallyn had him try to kill me, it never will – and I thank the stars for that.’

The words hung heavy. It had been one horrific moment after the other. Cassian bellowing at her on a bridge crossing the Sidra that she was his, despite her refusals. Morrigan delivering her to Emerie and Gwyn as she trembled. Waking disorientated in the Blood Rite. Staring down Bellius as she held Ramiel’s pass. Briallyn controlling Cassian with the Crown, trying to kill her. Only the Mask coming to her rescue again had saved her life.

‘I made a list the other day of all the things I’d like to do in Prythian. Do you know what I wrote?’ At her friends’ expectant faces, she continued, ‘Finish my book. I have no desires or dreams here. I am simply an object.’

‘What did you write for the other side?’

The corners of her mouth twitched. ‘So many things. There are things I want to do that I don’t even know exist yet. I want to go to the amusement park with Hunt. To study. I’d study for my whole life. I want to throw my cap in the air when I’ve finished studying. I want to live with Orion – I want a life with him like I’ve never dreamed of a male before. I didn’t kiss him enough.’

‘It was not only the High Lord’s life you saved, Nesta,’ Emerie reminded her. ‘There is a High Lady of the Night Court.’   

***

Silver light poured into the room like molten metal, so bright that Hunt needed to shield his eyes from the glare.

A low, hissing noise had him scurrying from his bed and pressing his wings to the cream wall in anticipation.

‘What the fuck.’

The wall opposite was flooded with a silver fire that chilled him to the bone. The narrow window above his bed frosted over. On his exhale, his breath was visible.

Then she was there.

The fire fell away, revealing an ornate library with rows of leather-bound books. Light streamed in from the massive bay windows, bathing Nesta in its glow. Like the first day that Hunt had seen her, Nesta was other-worldly. Instead of tight leathers that sinfully kissed every curve, she wore a pale lavender dress with a square-cut neckline. Her hands were buried in the long sleeves although Hunt spotted the tip of the horn poking from beneath. The draping skirts couldn’t hide the sneakers that she’d bought in Lunathion and declared the comfiest shoes she’d ever tried.

‘Tell me I’m dreaming,’ Hunt murmured.

Twice, Nesta’s lips parted then sealed again. Tears rimmed her grey eyes.

‘Nesta,’ he said, stepping closer to the fiery portal. The hairs on his arm stood from the seeping cold that surrounded it.

A soft gasp emitted from her side and two females came into view, ushered into the library by the same male he’d seen months ago with red hair and a metallic eye. One cradled a baby to her chest. This had to be Feyre; she had the unmistakeable look of her older sister although freckles dotted across the bridge of her nose and her hair hung freely. A swirling, black tattoo covered the hand that stroked her son’s wings. The other female was darker haired with large brown eyes reminding Hunt of a faun.

‘It worked?’ Feyre asked.

‘Obviously,’ the male replied, making Elain giggle and cover her mouth to hide it.

Hunt took another step closer to Nesta who was still immobilised. In the chairs behind her were two more females. Hunt had heard all about them. The winged one was Emerie and the red-haired one was Gwyn. Nesta’s face had lit up as she spoke of her only friends in Prythian when they’d been together.

‘Hey, Starlight,’ he said, reaching his hand through to her side. He jerked his chin towards her sister and the baby. ‘They made it.’

‘They made it,’ Nesta repeated, face twisting with emotion. ‘I gave up my power for them. I didn’t know if this would still work. I had to choose between seeing you again and saving them.’

‘And everybody won,’ he said, grasping her shaking hand.

It took every instinct not to haul her through to his side and kiss her until every star went out.

Nesta did that for him.

From the force that she yanked him to her, Hunt was practically falling. His hands found her waist to steady himself and he could feel her breath on his cheek as he pulled himself upright. Their bodies knocked together, the softness of her curves feeling like home.

‘I missed you.’

‘There has been nobody to laugh with.’ He touched his forehead to hers. ‘There was a national crisis because demand for ice cream plummeted since you left.’

When Hunt moved to kiss her, he stilled. There were markings on her neck, a fresh cut that still had the scab on her cheek and more wounds on her hands. They had to be recent because fae healed as fast as malakim.

‘What the Hel has happened? Are you alright? Who hurt you?’

The two females in the chair exchanged a glance then he noticed that both of them had been wounded recently too. Emerie had a bruise above her eyebrow that caused the lid to swell and Gwyn’s hands were bound in bandages.  

‘It’s alright,’ Nesta murmured, holding his hands in hers. ‘Something happened. I was taken. The three of us. We woke in the Blood Rite.’

‘I don’t know what that is.’

Surprising him, Nesta broke into a laugh. It skittered over his skin like static.  

‘What’s funny?’

‘That’s what I say to you, Orion.’

The male, Lucien, cleared his throat from his post at the door. ‘Nesta, I don’t know how long it will be open – or until they notice.’

‘Right,’ she said, nodding. ‘It was hell. All of it. That week on the mountain and all the months before. All I wanted was you. I told my friends that if we survived, if we made it through each night, I would find you.’

From the three-legged table, Nesta picked up a rolled-up piece of parchment. There was a line down the middle, splitting it into two columns. In an elegant script, lines upon lines of text had been written.

‘I wrote why I should stay here or why I should leave. There is danger on both sides, uncertainty, and it feels like leaping into the unknown. This is the world I know. My sisters are here. But the difference is in Lunathion, I will have you. And that makes all the difference, Hunt.’ She clutched the paper tighter. ‘I don’t care. All I want is you.’

When his day began, Hunt didn’t have Nesta appearing and offering him a forever on his bingo card. He blew out a breath. ‘Nesta, I’m a slave. I can’t give you a home. I don’t even know who my father is. If you want a life of comfort, you’re better off with Tristan Flynn.’

There was a brilliant shine of determination in her eyes. ‘I want a male who will love me.’

He’d loved her the moment she’d dropped out of the sky and told Isaiah she was a bard. These months without her had felt like living without the sun. He’d do another two hundred years in gorsian shackles strung up in the Asteri’s dungeon rather than spend another moment without Nesta.

Hunt stepped back through the portal to his room in the barracks and pulled out a prospectus for Crescent City University along with guidance on how to apply for funding. He’d gathered them just in case Nesta ever came back. He’d pulled legislation on the minimal rights of slaves. As long as Hunt answered when called, slaves could rent a property – they couldn’t own it, but it was a start, so he’d saved every penny of his pitiful wages, took double shifts and worked on his allotted days off to scrape together a few more coins because Nesta had given him that piece of hope that he hadn’t had before.

On the desk, there was photo album that he’d been compiling. It had provided an outlet instead of moping. Hunt had channelled all of his dreams into it.

‘There’s still space for more,’ he said, stepping back through and handing it to Nesta.

Her sisters and the other females peered over her shoulder at it. Every single photo that Nesta had taken on her cell and his, no matter how blurred, had been printed out and stuck in with his terrible handwriting beneath with a caption. Hunt had written about their day, about what she’d said, where they’d been or what they’d eaten. There was one of her bending down with the Istros in the background as Hunt had tried to get a scurrying otter in shot with her – but ended up with a smear of brown and yellow flopping into the river.

‘You look in pain there,’ said Elain, pointing to one.

‘She couldn’t decide on a milkshake flavour.’

Nesta’s lips quirked as she looked at the photo. ‘I regret banana.’

‘Is that why you drank mine?’

There were photos of him too. Ones she had taken. Ones that were blurry or zoomed in too far or ones in the elevator when she discovered that she could use the mirror to capture both of them. One of him with his fluffed-up wings and that rotten witch-ink halo on full display. One of them snuggled up on the bed on a pile of pillows. Lots of them together; Nesta appearing regal and poised whilst he looked surly or goofy to annoy her. One of Nesta in her gown before the ballet with Ruhn that she’d taken of herself in the bathroom mirror. A few of her when she’d put a cat-eared filter on and couldn’t work out how to take it off. Some even of Ruhn when he was driving, trying to block the camera with his tattooed hand.

‘I thought that was Rhys.’

Nesta chuckled, ‘So did I – and I gave him hell for it.’

‘They’re coming,’ said Lucien from the window where he’d been observing the skies. ‘They’ve likely felt the shift in the wards.’

On the horizon, three black shapes were moving quicker, wings beating rapidly.

Nesta turned to him, silver eyes shining with hope. ‘Will you have me?’

‘You were mine the day you fell from the stars. I love you. You think I make photo albums for every girl that lands in the middle of the road?’

Nesta silenced him with a kiss that surprised everybody in the room.

‘My bags are packed. I’ve already said goodbye.’

‘You’ll have to flirt with Flynn to get his credit card again,’ he said, grimacing slightly. ‘It will be centuries until I can afford somewhere for us to live.’

Feyre shook her head. ‘Finances are handled.’

‘I’m paying for your freedom,’ Nesta said resolutely. ‘There may only be one Umbra Mortis but I’m the bitch who stole from the Cauldron. That has to count for something.’  

 What she was, was a pillar of steel that could never be broken. Hunt didn’t care if she was sharp or unyielding, she was his Nesta. His girl from the stars.

Hunt slid his hands to her face, kissing her deeply. He didn’t care if her sisters watched. Didn’t care if the winged female whistled loudly at them. He had waited months to feel her again, to hold her.

‘We need to go,’ Nesta urged.

The two females had moved back to the chairs and exchanged a glance as the roof shook. A heavy landing. Feyre clutched her son to her chest, eyes going vacant as if listening to something else.

Three bags had been prepared and neatly tucked beneath the table. On her direction, Hunt hauled them up and through the portal back into the barracks. The final one tested his strength. It was bulky and ridiculously heavy, but with five females watching him, Hunt pretended the weight didn’t surprise him even if his muscles strained.

‘Are you bringing your Harp, bard?’

‘No. Only the Horn to close it then we’ll destroy it.’

Hunt pretended he didn’t just hear Nesta declare that she was about to break a priceless fae artefact that would have Einar Danaan, Micah, and the Asteri string her up from a dungeon for touching it.

They were doing this.

A cold sweat rippled down his back. They were really doing this. In the face of an archangel, a fae prince, and whatever the Asteri were, Hunt and Nesta were doing this for real.

His fingers enclosed around her wrists as steps grew closer. ‘Are you sure? You’ve known me a week.’

‘I have the rest of my life to know you,’ she said, before kissing him tenderly again. ‘Orion Athalar, you are my home. Maybe I fell that day, rattling the stars, because I was searching for you.’

The door swung open and shadows flooded in, sweeping the rugs of the library like a tidal wave that could no longer be held back. The first male had slicked back black hair and sparkling eyes so blue they appeared violet.

‘Shit, he does look like Ruhn,’ said Hunt.

In a soft voice, he said, ‘What is this?’

Two more males filed in, taking care to manoeuvre their large, leathery wings through the wooden doorway. These were the Illyrians she had spoken of which meant one was Azriel, who’d handed her a bag too heavy for her to manage, and the other was Cassian, a male who Hunt would delight in hurting.

Immediately, Hunt catalogued the subtle changes in Nesta. Whilst he would have expected her spine to go straighter, her chin to lift in defiance, instead Nesta curled in on herself as if she was deflating. Her shoulders hunched, making herself smaller and a flat, empty expression took up residence on her pale face.

The high lord’s eyes flashed to the Horn in Nesta’s hands. With a jolt of magic that Hunt felt fire across the room, he tried to lurch the Made item from her grip but it stayed firmly in her hand.

‘You have opened a portal to another world,’ he said, voice low and edged with warning. ‘You are endangering the lives of everybody in this city, Nesta. Endangering my mate and our son.’

Hunt couldn’t take it. It was as if all of the air was being pressed from the room. The two Illyrian sentries stood silent either side of their high lord in a display of cruel dominance. Neither would speak for Nesta. Hunt looked again to the females. Her two sisters were mute. The red-haired male had taken a not-so-subtle step closer to Elain, an arm extending ready to shield her. The other two females were as pale and timid as Nesta had become in their chairs; the winged one settled a hand on Gwyneth’s knee in reassurance as shadows lashed at the walls.  

These fae pricks.

‘Who the fuck do you think you are?’

The urge to let his lightning loose was an instinct that proved difficult to deny – but not when Nesta was in the firing line, nor a child and a male with a metal eye that would send his lightning haywire.

The high lord blinked in disbelief then took a step closer to Nesta.

Lightning wreathed his hands in response. ‘Don’t even fucking think about it.’

‘If it hits Nesta?’

Hunt could play that game. He went into the place where Micah sent him where it was cold and empty. ‘If it hits your son? Your mate?’

He let the static tighten the room so strands of their hair rose. Hunt pulled the clouds closer, bringing in a storm from the mountains which darkened the room. Rain pattered upon the glass.

The male to the high lord’s left tilted his head, back hair falling across his pensive face. The blue stones on his leathers pulsed. ‘What are you?’

‘He’s not Peregryn,’ the male with red stones said.

He kept his brown eyes fixed on the threats in the room while he spoke softly to Nesta. ‘Go through, Starlight. We’ll go to the movies tonight. I realised you never tasted popcorn.’

The weight of her decision pressed on her. That, or the arrogant bastards shooting daggers at her.  

‘We can make out on the back row too.’

That shifted something in Nesta, like the final screw coming loose. She exhaled with relief and edged towards him. Hunt stretched out his arm towards her to sweep his love behind him, behind his wings, so she could step through safely to the barracks as if they were negotiating the transfer of a hostage.

‘Baby, can you get my gun? It’s in the holster at the bottom of the bed.’

With a trembling hand, Nesta placed the gun in the hand that was outstretched behind himself. Magic was great, but nothing could quite replace a steel kiss. Hunt cocked his weapon, keeping it trained on the high lord.

‘Which one’s Cassian?’

Likely the male whose face was purpling as he stared at Hunt like he wanted to wrap his hands around his throat. Join the club, buddy, Hunt thought.

‘The red stones?’

None in the room gave an acknowledgement to his words. He didn’t want this to turn into a standoff but now that Hunt was here, facing the bastards who’d made Nesta’s life a misery for the last couple of years, he couldn’t resist being a dick. The Umbra Mortis had earned his reputation. He’d survived torture and a failed rebellion. And he was going to have a beautiful future with his gorgeous Nesta – but first, these males needed to atone.

‘Listen, these ladies look as if they’ve seen enough violence so I’ll refrain from blasting your brains out on these lovely rugs, but you owe my girl an apology.’ Over his shoulder, Hunt asked, ‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’

‘Hunt, don’t bother. Let’s just close it.’

‘Does Lucien need to say sorry?’ he repeated.

Nesta gave a sigh. ‘No. Lucien is fine.’

‘Good male,’ he said, offering a slight wink in the scarred-one’s direction.

A shadow that had been creeping along the skirting board made to lunge towards him but Hunt hit it with a bolt of lightning that crippled it. The male who’d bejazzled his leathers with blue stones winced as if he felt the blow too. Aha, that was the shadowsinger. Red stones was the prick who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

‘Alright, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to say sorry to Nesta then I’m leaving with her. We’re going to have a beautiful life together and never come back to this place again.’ Hunt gave a dramatic sigh. ‘If I’m honest, I think it’s less about my company and more about the fact you three have made her life so miserable here that she's willing to leave.’

‘That’s not true,’ Nesta called, and he caught the slight playful edge in her tone. ‘I want to go to university too.’

Little minx.

The three males were carved from stone. Every now and then, Hunt felt something trying to edge towards his mind like a tendril of smoke but his lightning zapped it without thought.

‘My finger is getting really sweaty holding back this trigger.’

The gun wasn’t even loaded – safety protocol – but if these fae were as clueless as Nesta had been, they’d have no idea.

‘Nesta, I am sorry that we did not extend the same warmth to you as we did to your sisters. I’m truly sorry that after the war, we were not a support for you.’

‘Well done, blue stones. Next one.’

The high lady shuffled the baby who was growing restless in her arms. ‘Is this necessary?’

‘Yes. Next question.’

Hunt lashed his lightning towards the males’ feet, making them leap back a step. Damn, he wished he recorded the sudden bloom of fear on their arrogant faces.

‘I’m sorry that I loved you,’ Cassian said. ‘I’m sorry that I gave you everything I could and it still wasn’t enough. Nes, what are you doing? In this life, we can have our time together. Think of our future.’

‘Didn’t you make her walk until she collapsed?’

The male blanched. ‘It was for her own good.’

‘No,’ Hunt uttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘I can't do this. I need to go before I shoot you.’

Behind him, Nesta’s snort of laughter was the confirmation that Hunt needed. Nesta would never get the apology that she deserved from this male – but the promise of a future free from him was good enough. A future with Hunt meant more.

His wings scooped low, tucking towards his spine, as Hunt took a backwards step. The cold bite of Nesta’s magic that surrounded the portal edged closer. He hoped he would look cool departing the library and wouldn’t fall on his ass through to the other side.

Once back in Lunathion, Hunt stood at Nesta’s side, proud to do it.

‘We won’t come here again,’ said Nesta, voice growing stronger with every word. Her eyes bounced between her friends and her sisters. ‘I love you but this is best for me. I wish you all the love in the world.’

Nesta lifted the horn to her lips and Hunt prayed to Luna that she’d hit that note on the first try or he’d laugh his ass off again. His hand enclosed around her fist, raising it in the air.

‘This is how we say bye in my world, assholes.’

Hunt prised Nesta’s middle finger up to flip them off – giving her only a moment to blow the Horn before she grinned.

Silver flames swarmed it then fell in on themselves like a star collapsing. They were left with the plain wall of his room in the Comitium.

‘You okay?’

Hunt touched her cheek in an attempt to read her expression. She didn’t need to wear the mask anymore. There would be no hiding her feelings or supressing her hurts. Nesta could be Nesta in Lunathion. And if she didn’t know who that was yet, it was fine. She could discover who she was.

Nesta slipped her hands around his neck, moving closer. ‘Oh, you are going to get it tonight, Orion Athalar.’

‘Oh?’ An eyebrow cocked up.

‘Defending me. Making them say sorry. What a male.’

Their lips crushed together. Now they had about a thousand things to do before they could relax, like storing the Horn somewhere safe, where nobody would notice the magic, find a place to live rather than keep her smuggled in the barracks, and figure out what the Hel was in that massive bag. With Nesta at his side, anything was possible. They’d weather the storm.

‘Your male,’ Hunt said between hurried kisses.

‘Mine,’ agreed Nesta.

‘Always.’  

#hunt x nesta #hunt athalar #nesta archeron

[orcusnoir]

Sky at one point did feel guilty for being the one "responsible" for the curse, the cycle of reincarnation and all of the trauma that came with it. If only he was faster, then maybe Demise would've never had the chance to speak. This, of course, eats away at him. Every time he looks at the Chain he just thinks that none of them would've had to suffer if he was good enough. That is until he and Time had a chat. A small chat by a dwindling campfire late into the night. The Old Man also felt the same type of guilt, feeling explicitly responsible for all of the horrible things that the Sailor had to endure.

"That's not your fault." Sky whispered. "You had no idea going back would create a timeline split like that."

The Old Man grumbled something while fiddling with the Ocarina. "Maybe." "The only who should feel anything short of "responsible" for another's suffering is me." Sky sighed, letting his head fall into his hands. "I wasn't fast enough, and so Demise cursed us all. All of it is-" "Nonsense." Time cut him off sharply. "Still would've happened, even if you did cut the bastard down faster." Sky gave the Old Man an odd look. The way the dim light from the campfire shone on his face made Time seem much younger than he actually was. "You think Majora was afflicted with this curse?" He raised an eyebrow. Sky had to rack his brain for a second to remember who Majora actually was. "But that thing was from Termina, it probably only effects Hyrule." "And? What about Vaati?" Time gestured to the sleeping Four nearby. "Well I don't-" "Sky. It would've happened regardless." He shook his head with another sigh. "Most of you have had to fight a Ganon, or Ganondorf and they've all were afflicted-" "Oh please, the Ganondorf that I fought turned to evil. Sure, he may of had a voice of evil in his ear, but he chose that path. Nabooru even told me so." Time sighed. "He chose evil because it was easy, that's what she told me."

Sky started to get frustrated. "If he never had that "voice" in his ear or whatever-" "Sky." Time quietly cut him off. "He. Chose. Evil. Ganondorf made the choice to listen. He ignored the people telling him to do good, and chose that path on his own."

Sky didn't respond. What would he even say? Time seemingly had a counter to everything that Sky brought up about the curse. "Listen to me." Time started. "With good comes evil. Where there is evil, there is good." He ran his thumb across the holes of the Ocarina. "With light comes shadow, and we are that light." He continued. "Demise's curse or not, people choose to do evil. To hurt others, to bring chaos and ruin to the world for their own selfish gains." Time put his hand on Sky's shoulder. "We are the ones who respond to the calls for justice and peace. Curse or not, we'd still be here."

He was right. Time was right yet again. It was like the weight of the entire world was lifted off Sky's heart. He heaved a sigh of relief. "Since when did you get so good at philosophy?" Sky asked with a quiet laugh. "Well, let's just say I had a lot of time to myself in Termina, and I started reading." Time laughed. "Get some rest Sky, you need it." "Thanks, I guess I do."

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu time #lu sky #lu headcanons #linked universe headcanons #Sky shouldn't feel guilty over Demise's curse #lu wind #lu four

[altocat]

Um. Long essay ahead, sorry lol.

We are talking about the Genesis-Sephiroth drama and I must say: Genesis is so very human and I love that. I think he seriously thought that Seph needed to hear some cold, harsh truth to finally see why Shinra sucked and why he and Angeal had defected. So, he just went straight for Seph’s most painful issue—his mother and the answers regarding her. 

I know we react viscerally to the idea of Gen having known about Seph searching for his mother and then weaponizing that, but think about it. Angeal is dead by that point and Genesis is on the verge of death. He is desperate. The man is broken to pieces after discovering that his entire existence had been a lie, an experiment, an abuse of power, etc., and that his own adoptive parents had “betrayed” him. He basically was reduced to an orphan that discovered how awful his care-takers were and how they had used him. 

On top of all this, he lost Angeal, his closest childhood friend, to the SAME horrific downfall. I don’t think we talk enough about how Angeal’s death probably messed with Gen, but I feel that he gets noticeably crueler and frailer afterwards. Shinra took everything from those boys, and Gen’s last hope for any salvation was Sephiroth, who was STILL letting himself be under Shinra’s command. Genesis absolutely wanted to hurt him with a wakeup call and went for the heart with his dagger. 

He probably thought he was doing well, that Sephiroth needed it, and yes, a strain of bitterness from their past rivalry tainted his words, but wasn’t it all just forgivable drivel in the face of their deeper friendship? In the end, Sephiroth could overlook that after seeing the light, yes?

Genesis wasn’t an idiot. He really did believe Sephiroth would help him despite the rude awakening, but what he lacked was deeper insight and empathy for his old friend. 

Genesis had a normal chldhood. He understood family, he understood the idea of a “hometown,” he knew how to hold friends and have fun with his life—he had autonomy despite the lies surrounding his birth. Sephiroth had absolutely none of this throughout his life and had trusted his heart only to his friends—one of whom was dead by that point and the other seemingly a traitor who appeared to use his greatest weakness against him before demanding a part of his very essence. Sephiroth had nothing left in that moment.

Genesis did truly descend into his frenzied, imagined glory-tale of three friends that were all monsters and could save themselves together, thinking that he had a chance to full-fill that dream, but he made the mistake of underestimating Sephiroth’s crumbling mental stability as a human being. We saw what discovering the truth did to two kids that grew up fairly normal. It ruined them, killed them, made one of them cruel in many ways. Gen and Angeal suffered immensely believing they were monsters and eventually reshaped pieces of history in retaliation.

But Sephiroth? The “other” child of Shinra? The solitary one? The one that had been violated directly from the womb…not just through his mother’s cells…but from the time his own life force began to take shape? The one that had been raised to be a killing machine with no true connection to the outside world? His discovery of the truth broke his psyche and led to apocalyptic events. 

Genesis simply failed to consider this, so his “splash of cold water” mixed with his own bitterness, which would have been cruel enough under normal circumstances, actually led to extremely dark consequences. I absolutely believe he knew that Sephiroth had been searching for his mother for his whole life, that Sephiroth had indicated it or brought it up at some point during their youth, regardless of whether the picture was involved or not.

I absolutely think Genesis weaponized Sephiroth’s gaping wound in that area, but I don’t think he realized how damaging it would truly be. He forgot that his friend was not at all “normal” and that his orphanhood was a different entity—something colder and more feral than most. Even most orphans are not completely deprived of normal lives and raised as weapons. We see this with many other characters. So many that lost their families or never knew them still found a way to make a place for themselves in the world or substitute their loss with something else.

Sephiroth literally could not do this as Shinra’s weapon. He had tried with his two friends and lost them both. He was already collapsing under the weight of it all, and Genesis simply did not see it in time. So, he played with fire and paid the price. That look of hurt on his face when Seph rejects him is genuine and raw and real. He had faith in them, in their friendship, and thought that it could withstand a bit of turmoil like it had in the past—but that only could have maybe been the case if Sephiroth had not been who he was—if he had been normal.

Genesis never quite fully understood his hero in the end and it makes me so fucking sad.

I don't think I could have said it better myself. Amazing analysis.

Genesis is a severely misunderstood character. It's really easy to dismiss him without taking a closer look at his feelings and motives. I think there was plenty of bitterness towards Seph, but we all seem to forget that Genesis' deepest, dearest desire at the end of the day was to share the apples with Sephiroth in a moment of acknowledgement. Genesis hurt Sephiroth badly, but there's more layers to it than just petty rivalry and Genesis being terrible just for the sake of it.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #sephcanons #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #final fantasy

[comfort-person]

Where do broken hearts go?

Request: hiii! Please could you write one with Billy Hargrove? But possessed Billy? And how maybe Billy almost kills the reader but she somehow stops it?? Thank you!

Y/n x possessed!Billy Hargrove

Trigger warnings: pretty dark stuff.

“You’re crazy. You’re going to get yourself killed!” Dustin practically yelled, yet it was in a hushed whisper. You gazed at your friends who all seemed to be overly concerned about you doing this. “It’ll be worth it. I promise.” You spoke before attempting to walk out of the room, only to be pulled back by a hand wrapping around your wrist “I said I’ll be fine”

You yanked your hand away from them before walking out, Billy was clearly possessed. He had a strength no normal human being should have. “Y/n you’re going to get yourself hurt!” Lucas exclaimed but you didn’t listen, whatever you did and how you acted today was all because you loved Billy and you wouldn’t let him suffer. You could see the real Billy underneath the layers of cruelness, you knew he was hurting… he was scared… he was being controlled by a worthless monster who only cared for hurting individuals and ripping them away from their trauma only to add more trauma to their lives. You walked down the hallway silently stopping just at the barrier as you looked down at the mall- abandoned and in ruins. Whatever this thing was, was clearly way more powerful than you or anyone put together. This thing was nightmare fuel completely. It lurked in the shadows awaiting for its slaves to bring back its meal… it was sickening.

You stood at the top staring down the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you looked around, “when I find you it’s going to be your funeral” his voice echoed about, disorientating you to the point you didn’t know whether he was in front of you or behind you. You knew you had to act fast… if you didn’t Hawkins was in deep shit. It was already cursed, it didn’t need to be cursed further and so you took a deep breath hair jerking as you twisted your body as you started running your footsteps grasping his attention almost immediately his senses being heightened as he kept his fingers up- his fingers which were covered in blood. El’s blood… he was trying to find you all… but he couldn’t… and so hearing the sound of you grabbed more than just his attention his entire focus being on you now as he stood up straighter, a cruel grin tugging at his lips as he followed after the footsteps. You ran for your life, checking over your shoulder occasionally. “Billy!” You yelled keeping him interested in you and as you saw his tall bloody figure lurking down the stairs you quickly hid behind one of the pillars your breathing heavy but you tried to conceal it, eyes searching around in an attempt to find something to help you…

“Why are you breathing so fast?”

His voice was right by your ear your eyes widening as you quickly tried to make an escape but his hand was quick to grab a hold of your wrist teeth bared as he stared at you emotionless “Billy stop this. You’re scaring me.��� You demanded looking into his eyes trying to find some part of him to try and work on getting to bring forward but you saw none. His iron grip on you was so tight you were sure it was going to cut off circulation, you knew you weren’t getting anywhere with him and so you instead of pulling away got closer to him, free hand gripping onto his hand that was holding onto you as you began to push his hand back until it bent in a way that it shouldn’t be bent, this wasn’t billy. This was a monster. A demon. A cry left Billy’s lips as he let go of you, your body immediately backing up as you backed away from him watching how tears pooled in his eyes but the anger on his face was quick to make those tears disappear “why would you hurt me y/n,” he spoke voice now Billy’s sounding broken and hurt as you tried to maintain distance from him. “I thought you loved me. Were you just lying? Faking it? Was I nothing but a pawn in your game” he spoke in such a way that you knew it wasn’t Billy talking. It sounded like him but it wasn’t him.

He took slow steps towards you as you kept taking steps backwards “why are you scared?” He whispered out, your eyes catching onto a raised metal pole raised just behind him, Lucas wielding the weapon in such a way that it was sure to knock Billy unconscious “I’m not,” you assured “yes you a-“ his words were silenced as the loud ding of the pole hitting against his head rang around the empty building his body falling onto the ground, forehead slightly cracked as he breathed heavily on the ground “max!!” Lucas exclaimed, Dustin and Mike yelling at the girl to get the injection and you watched as the girl slammed the injection straight into Billy’s neck but it seemed to have an opposite effect, his lips curving up into a grin that wasn’t recognisable in the slightest “it’s too late for that, Maxine” Billy spoke the way he said it being evil truly evil as he pulled the needle out of his neck throwing it onto the floor as he got up onto his knees pushing himself up completely. His skin had gotten darker with black veins that were practically protruding out of him making him look like some monster… some kind of demonic entity that would be seen in children’s nightmares.

Billy turned to max as he attempted to reach for her “fuck you asshole!” Lucas’ words were strong as he hit Billy with the pole again, this time forcing the pole against his chest and trying to shove him back but instead Billy grabbed a hold of the pole lifting it up, Lucas not letting go as Lucas and the pole was thrown in the opposite direction a grunt of pain coming from Lucas, the monster turning to Lucas, Billy taking slow steps towards the boy “billy! Hey! Over here!” You shouted grabbing his attention as he walked towards you at a fast pace, hands clenched by his side making your eyes widen before watching as Billy was thrown to the side just as he was about to grab you, el’s hands trembling as she tried to keep Billy at bay- trying to stop him from hurting any of you. All of you had formed a small circle not sure on exactly what to do, your eyes soon picked up on the dark shadow lurking just outside- it was inhumanly large. Larger than any human being and existent animal… it was like a dinosaur… a monster… it made your breath hitch

“Stop!”

You soon yelled “this is what it wants! Stop it! Just… just trust me!” You begged watching as el stopped, everyone backing away just behind you as you stared at Billy watching as he stood up his attention turning to you “c’mon… come get me” you taunted and within seconds he had grabbed you hand wrapped tightly around your throat as he lifted you up into the air strangling you, your nails dug into his wrist, feet kicking as his chest as you let out strangled cries yet you still shook your head at your friends if they went to hurt Billy… if your death meant your friends could survive then you would happily die. You could see the tears in his eyes the real him shining through once again his fingers practically digging into your windpipe stopping any breath from going in or out before his large hand let go of your throat as he threw you into the pillar his breathing heavy and uneven before he walked towards your limp body, your friends crying but trying to reassure each other that you knew what you were doing.

Billy knelt down beside you lifting you up into his arms bridal style, your head leaning over his arm, body limp in his embrace as he walked you carelessly into the centre of the mall before he dropped to his knees gently placing you onto the ground being rather gentle comparing to how he had just acted, his hand pushing some hair off of your forehead as he leaned down to rest his lips just beside your ear “don’t be afraid… it’ll all be over soon…” he spoke to you tone cold and unrecognisable as you stared into his eyes and in one last attempt to stop him and rid him of whatever was happening to him your hand gently cupped his cheek “Billy” you whispered tears glistening in your eyes, seeing the way a tear gently rolled down his cheek as he stared down into your eyes “just stay very still” he whispered to you emotionlessly and your eyes searched his desperately as your body began to tremble “Billy please” you begged out a lump growing in your throat as you struggled to calm down

“No more time.” He said calmly as he tried to pull away but your other hand cupped his other cheek pulling him back “she was beautiful Billy.” You soon started seeming to get a tiny reaction out of him. “You surfed… she was happy you were happy… you were her pride and joy.” You continued eyes sad as a shaky breath seemed to leave his lips the real him coming forward “she’s still your mum… she still loves you… no matter what… the way your dad treats you isn’t your fault. None of it is your fault.” Your thumb brushed against his cheek gently “your mum still loves you… max loves you… I love you… I love you so much.” You said tears threatening to spill a soft sob leaving your lips as you stared into his eyes and within a second it was like a light switch had been turned on and he gently grabbed a hold of your wrist turning his head to press a kiss against the palm of your hand “I’m sorry.” He said quietly before his head turned to look at max “I’m sorry for not being a good big brother.”

He then stood, standing in front of you as the tall shadow figure appeared large and scary and you stared in horror as one of its tentacles came down piercing into Billy’s chest his agonised screams torturing you day in day out as you were pulled back by Mike and will your eyes wide as you stared at the love of your life being hurt, and in a synchronised scream both you and max yelled out his name in despair…

“Y/n!” A voice called as you were shaken awake your eyes fluttering open as you stared at the boy in front of you… Billy… “did you have another nightmare?” He asked and you nodded crumbling into his arms soft sobs leaving your lips as his fingers brushed through your hair, hand rubbing up and down your back “I’m right here… I’m right here… I’m okay… I’ve got you.” He soothed in a caring tone not daring to let go of you as soft sniffles came from you the grip you had on him soon loosening as the familiar coldness caressed against your fingertips and you pulled back gazing down at him a soft sad smile on your lips “I missed you.” You continued before wiping your eyes letting out a shaky breath before leaning into another hug again… gripping onto him like your life depended on it… not letting go for a second as you sniffed squeezing your eyes shut, max and the others standing at the car, watching as your fragile body grasped onto Billy like your life depended on it… Billy’s grave… silence intertwined with each one of them as they didn’t dare say a word… grief was a powerful thing, but grieving as a group who couldn’t explain what had actually happened was a lot worse. Billy deserved better… but he couldn’t get better… all he could do was rest in peace.

#short story #sad stories #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #billy x you #billy x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #plot twist #billy hargrove x reader #billy x max stranger things #stranger things 4 #billy x eleven #x reader #you #y/n #stranger things 3 #stranger things 2

[kexing]

no but i’m literally eating our dating sim with my hands right now for all the things they could’ve done wrong but managed to do right by staying simple, true to themselves and really respectful to the characters.

like. the plot is really just two high school best friends who lost touch with each other after a disastrous love confession finding each other again after 7 years. but even then, they could’ve ruined this in a million ways by making up more drama, keeping them apart, hiding feelings, more bad timing.

BUT NONE OF THAT WAS THE POINT!!!!!

the point was character development, making the most of a second chance, start healing from past mistakes. and the show never lets lee wan and ki tae take a step back from that.

ki tae never gave up on trying to find lee wan and when he finally did, he confessed to him almost immediately. no games, no drama, just the truth. he suffered way too much for losing lee wan already, ep 7 really highlights how it’s even a trauma for him. and the show does not take it lightly, they don’t want to drag ki tae’s pain out any more than they already have. but they still give lee wan a choice and he chooses based on his heart, where it’s always been, with whom it’s always been with.

and lee wan. sweet jesus. the guy who thought he was suffering alone all along, sees himself in the face of what he thought was an unrequited love to find out that ki tae has been loving him all these years. all those unresolved feelings and pain that he buried come back full force but with the overwhelming knowledge that he is loved just like he’s always wanted to be and that he can either run away again or face that this is it. that ki tae is his person.

in the end, our dating sim is about second chances, being brave about your own feelings and treasuring the ones you love, not taking them for granted and how love is the source of our very own art. it moves, it inspires, love is art.

i truly love simple stories that are so honest with themselves, so understanding and loving towards their own characters, that they become profound.

#our dating sim #idek if this makes any sense. it’s 5 am and i’ve been giffing for 24 hours straight so ignore me #mj talks

[rosedarkness24]

Cult of Souls: Lamb's true Devotion.

Tw: Cuss words and slight gore.

~~~~~~~~~

Whispers. Whispers. All they could hear was his whispering, cutting off a sense greatly needed in battle. They knew he was calling for them to die. To come to him and heal, but it'd ruin all their progress.

Swinging their axe, they cut open the last heretic. Watching as a red blob of organs spew out. Looking over to the middle of the clearing they wait.

But, when the loot chest doesn't fall and the barriers to the room haven't fallen, panic hits them. Looking around the clearing, trying to find what they have missed. Yet, it was too late. Before they could spot the bat, it charged and landed a killing blow.

It was so sudden they couldn't register it, the change from the dark blue night shrouded in shadows, to a blinding white with warm relaxing clouds of mists. It hurt their eyes, making them close them tightly. Only to slowly open them for them to adjust to the sudden change. The sound of chains were the first thing they heard in the past hours. A sound that's now starting to annoy them.

Turning to the unsavory beast, they call a God. The smell of Rot was uncomfortably choking them, crawling at their insides begging for a reaction. But they give none. They aren't stupid, you don't tell a God they fucking reak. That just being near them makes you sick. No, instead, their mask fall into place as natural as one who sees a loved one.

Kneeling before the God of Death, "May I request you quit whispering in my ear?"

There was silence, something unusual for their unusual visits. The God was so talkative, now is unnaturally silent. Looking up from where they were, they let their eyes meet the felines dead on. Not caring if it's not something you shouldn't do. As they have learned from most the felines in their cult.

There's confusion in those red orbs. While they couldn't see where the iris or pupils were, they knew well enough that he was looking at them. They could feel it.

Unease sinks into them as they watch him lean forward, coming closer to them, "Mmmm..... Vessel, I don't give a shit. Neither should you."

Their eye twitched. 'This Mother Fucker.' Of course their God wouldn't give a shit. He has done this since day one. And more than once has it lead to their death, "You just want to see me die." Their voice flat and cold. "Yet you forget yourself my lord. For I am of no use to you if you yourself make me fucking useless."

"Suck it up." He didn't even give them time to react to such a rude comment before continuing. "You're useful dead and alive. The entertainment I get watching you suffer has made my time here. And more~"

That it, that's another reason for them to take his power. Sadistic Cat. Stupid sadist cat. "....Then you shall wait another thousand years before your release, I can be just as bullshity as you my lord."

Chains being smacked by bone could be heard, definitely the God's tail flicking in annoyance. "If I were so inclined to believe, you don't worship me vessel."

"How the fuck do I worship someone, who by all means annoys me, treats me like a fucking shitshow, and gets their kicks watching me suffer?"

"Hypocrisy you spill. You do the same."

"I DO NOT!"

"Lil' Man?"

"THAT MOTHER FUCKER CALLED ME STUPID! HE DESERVED WORSE THAN WHAT FA-" They froze not continuing that sentence. Something new just dawned on them. But the God brushed past it. Wanting their attention only on him.

"Vessel. You torment others and carry venom for all who step too far on you. You stalk your following, watching their lives like a damn show. Then you relish in their suffering as they die by your hand. You are a hypocrite."

"...... I get it from you."

A dorky grin grows on the God's face. Something that pulled at the Lamb's heart softly. Though it's not enough for them to care. They never cared. They have no respect or devotion for any rotten Gods. For Rot is the sign that a God is dieing and infected. Why worship a dieing God.

"Entertain me Vessel and sit by my side." They look to the feline, then to the two by his side. They haven't given reaction to the bickering for the whole time they've been here. Honestly, they could understand a bit why the God was bored. Letting out a sigh, they get up and move over to the large being.

"Only if it pleases you my lord." They go to sit next to him, only to have him slip his hand under them and pull them up. They didn't mind, just let their legs hang off his large boney ichor covered hand.

"Your existence pleases me vessel." Words that to the Lamb felt untrue. No matter how much convincing the God would do, they will never believe someone would care. Nor will they ever believe it. No one will hurt them, for they will always expect it. Letting the feline God feel their wool and inspect them for injuries, though they both know wounds never transfer over.

"Every inch of you is perfect...." There was sorrow and pain in those words. Something that was the truth for the God. As to why they didn't know nor did they care to know. He wasn't worth knowing.

#cotl #cotl au #cult of the lamb #cult of souls #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #no devotion #The Loyal Bell

[heliads]

Kai Parker x male reader, reader helping Kai redeem himself and be better

excellent reminder that i need to watch the originals/legacies so if this was meant for a different part of the tvd timeline do ignore

masterlist

It has only been an hour since you woke up, and already, the Salvatores are desperate for your help. It’s not like you can blame them, not really; they seem to collect trouble with an almost professional magnetism. No matter what they try, danger always comes their way, and they are never, ever able to get rid of it without significant difficulty.

This problem belongs to all of you, in a way, not just the two brothers. When your group of friends and somewhat tenuous allies managed to take down Kai Parker, you were all left with the meddlesome question of what on earth you were supposed to do with him. 

Killing Kai is tricky. None of you are one hundred percent sure that Kai’s life isn’t linked to the spell keeping Elena in a coma and Bonnie alive somewhere, tethered to her friend, so murdering him could have disastrous consequences. That hasn’t stopped Damon from stomping around and loudly declaring how much he’d like to rip Kai’s twisted little heart right out of his chest, but it’s not like the older Salvatore has ever needed an excuse for drama.

That leaves Kai Parker alive, for now at least, and that means he’ll have to be handled accordingly. Right now, he’s locked away in the cell in the Salvatore house basement, but you’ll still have to do something with him before too long, if anything to shut up the constant source of complaining emanating from the downstairs area. Stefan says it ruins his beauty sleep.

And, for some reason, the above problems have convinced the Salvatore brothers to call upon you of all people. Sure, you’re probably one of the more sensible members of your little friend group, but that shouldn’t mean you’re the one they contact for every murderous lunatic to ever hit Mystic Falls. Goodness knows it would totally destroy your travel plans.

You stalk through the halls of the Salvatore House. Stefan greets you at the door and is hurriedly following you through the rooms, alternating between apologizing for needing you yet again and attempting to extract promises that you will actually help them with this.

“It’s not like we want to do this, obviously, but you’ve got a great track record for fixing these sorts of things, and I thought it was best that Damon not handle this, or Bonnie, so–”

You come to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, cutting Stefan off with an icy stare. “And that left me, I suppose? I’d lecture you about how much I don’t want to do this, but I assume you can guess at that.”

Stefan winces. “Yeah, I kind of got that. Will you do it, though?”

You sigh, casting an irritable glance down the stairs where Kai waits somewhere in a cell below you. “I will. You totally owe me, though.”

Stefan lets out an audible sigh of relief. “You can act on that favor any time, I swear. Just see what you can do, alright?”

“We’ll see,” you allow.

In truth, you have no idea how well this is going to work. Kai is, well, Kai, and that means he’s not prone to helping anyone out if he can help it. Odds are, you’re going to try to talk to him and see if he can be trusted just for him to threaten to drain your blood or something else like that. None of you have any better idea what to do with him, though, so you’ll just have to suffer along.

You tell Stefan to stay upstairs while you’re wrangling Kai, something the younger Salvatore is only too happy to agree with. Once he’s gone, you allow yourself one last moment of relative peace, then descend to the cells below.

Kai Parker is sitting morosely on the ground, leaning up against the far wall of the cell. He looks up when he hears you approach. “Are you here to let me out?”

You scoff. “What, so you can launch another mass murder attempt? Not a chance, Parker.”

“I prefer Kai,” he says, appearing by the grate in the door in the blink of an eye so he can stare directly at you, grinning all the while, “I don’t really like being reminded of my family. I’m sure you can understand.”

“Okay, Kai,” you shrug, “Are you planning on killing more people the moment you leave this cell?”

Kai narrows his eyes. “Why are you bothering to ask me this? Yes, obviously. Unless you were going to let me out if I said no. In that case, I would be a perfectly good boy and wouldn’t shed a single drop of blood. I would devote my life to the pursuit of kindness and volunteer service, and–”

You cut him off with a deep sigh. “You’re right, bad question. Look, can you just tell me what it would take for you to change your answer and actually mean it? Neither of us want you in this basement forever.”

Kai just laughs. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not your friend, and I’m never going to be. The second the lock in this door fails, I am going to break out. I am going to kill who I please and enjoy it all the while, and you’re no exception just because you’re trying to talk to me or some nonsense like that. I want you dead, Y/N. Truly.”

His smile is saccharine, and you want to throttle him through the bars of this cage were it not for the fact that this is obviously the reaction he wants.

“Alright, then,” you manage, “Die in here. I hope you do. No food or drink for you, and certainly no blood. I can’t wait to watch you starve. By the end of it, you’ll be wishing you were back in that prison world of yours.”

Kai must be able to sense how serious you are about that threat, because his playful demeanor drops in an instant. “You can’t mean that. You need me alive so Elena doesn’t accidentally die in her coma.”

“That’s why your head is still affixed to your shoulders,” you observe, “Doesn’t mean you won’t be a skeleton by the time she wakes up. You know, if boredom doesn’t kill you first.”

With that, you turn around and head back up the stairs. Kai’s shouts echo up around you, calling for you to turn around and let him out or something, anything. It’s like music to your ears.

Stefan looks up, surprised, when you emerge onto the main floor once more. “Well, that was fast. Any ideas what we should do with him?”

“Kill him,” you say tersely.

Stefan groans. “Trust me, we would if we could, but we can’t risk Elena like that. Is there seriously no way you can get a lead on this guy?”

You shake your head, flopping down into a nearby armchair. “Not unless I come back and try to crack him, like, every day until forever.”

There’s a conspicuous silence from Stefan, and you stare at him incredulously. “Stefan, no. You can’t do this to me.”

He smiles apologetically. “Does me repeating our endless gratitude help in any way?”

“It does not,” you tell him, but it’s not like that does anything at all.

Kai’s attitude does not improve the next day, nor the next, nor the one after that. You thought this was a failed idea from the first minute, but a week later Kai must realize that you’re not going anywhere, because he starts to break at last.

“Are you really going to keep up with this until I die or something?” He asks one day, head leaned idly up against the wall of his cell.

“Yes, unfortunately,” you say. “Does that make you more willing to cooperate?”

“I have never cooperated a day in my life, and I certainly don’t plan to now,” he says smugly.

You roll your eyes. “Trust me, I know.”

Kai frowns. “Out of curiosity, why is it that you of all people got stuck with this job? I would have thought Stefan would have taken it upon himself to be heroic or self-sacrificial and done it.”

You shake your head. “No, unfortunately. See, whenever one of the Salvatores does something stupid like turn off their humanity, I’m usually the one they bring in to convince them to feel things again. I went to the Lexi School of Emotional Manipulation and now I’m great at it.”

Kai snorts. “Should I know who Lexi is?”

“One of Stefan’s old friends,” you say dismissively.

“Not an old girlfriend of yours?” Kai asks innocently.

You look at him quizzically. “No, not in the slightest. Why would you think that?”

Kai shrugs casually. “I figured it wasn’t too far out of the question. You’re a handsome young man, she was present, things happen.”

You almost choke on your laughter, surprising both yourself and Kai. “I’m honored to hear you think I’m handsome. I’ll remember that.”

“Don’t,” Kai advises you, but he’s grinning too, and. Well. You hadn’t counted on having a good time, but when Damon texts you to say he needs something again, you actually feel disappointed to leave. If you didn’t know better, you’d say Kai’s face registers the same unhappiness when you go. Do you know better, though? Do you know anything at all?

The trend continues for a while, actually. Soon enough, you’re looking forward to your talks with Kai instead of dreading them. You’re not sure what they’re accomplishing, in all honesty, but Stefan says that Kai is quieter, tries to escape less frequently, so maybe it’s doing something after all. Maybe you’re really doing this. Maybe it’s all worth it, more than just to you.

It all comes to a head a month after Kai appeared in the Salvatore basement. A group of vampire hunters makes themselves known in Mystic Falls. They break into the Salvatore house, looking for the brothers. You, Bonnie, Stefan, and Damon are occupied with other business, and you come back to destruction of property and vague threats pinned to your door.

What’s worse, the hunters looked pretty thoroughly in the house. Damon appears at the top of the stairs to the basement, face grim. “The door to Kai’s cell was opened,” he says slowly, “He’s gone.”

You suck in a breath. It makes sense, of course; if Kai could talk someone into giving him a key, there is no reason he wouldn’t run, but for some reason it hurts like hell anyway. You really thought you were making progress. You really thought–

Well, what did you think? That he would happily stay in a cell if he had a chance to escape? That you could convince Kai Parker, known murderer Kai Parker, to become a good man? Ridiculous. You may have had success getting friends to turn their humanity on in the past, but that means absolutely nothing when it comes to Kai. It was foolish of you to believe that you could do something like that, and even more foolish to be hurt by the thought of him leaving.

The hunters have to be dealt with, obviously, so your group takes to the town once again, splitting up to cover the most ground and do damage control before something bad happens again. You’re turning down an alley in the search of gun-toting weirdos when you hear something behind you, and then there they are, maybe half a dozen all pointing various weapons at your head.

You raise your hands slowly. “Easy there. Let’s not murder me quite yet.”

One of the hunters grunts. “He’s not a Salvatore.”

Another one speaks. “He’s a friend of theirs, though. That’s good enough to die.”

Not if you have anything to say about it. You pull a gun from your belt and manage to get off a few shots before the hunters recover from their shock and fire back at you. You are able to take out about three of the six, but they’re still shooting at you and you have absolutely nowhere to run.

Just as you’re certain that your luck has run out, the shots cut off abruptly. You look back at them in time to see the last of the hunters fall to the ground. The sick, metallic scent of blood slicks through the air, and someone steps over their bodies. It’s– it’s Kai, of all people, but he’s injured, stumbling as he tries to make some joke about how surprised you look right now.

You catch him before he hits the pavement. The front of his shirt is dark with blood, and he groans in pain when you press your hands to the injuries in an attempt to slow the bleeding.

“I’m not linked to Elena,” he gasps weakly, “She’s not going to die.”

“I don’t care about that,” you whisper furiously, “I don’t want to lose you.”

With a chill, you realize you’re not lying. It’s not just because he saved your life, either, which is wholly unexpected. It’s because you’ve come to like spending time with him each day, and you were terrified that you were never going to see him again once he escaped the cell. You don’t want to live without him. You’re not sure that you can.

You desperately try to staunch the flow of blood from his veins. “What happened to you wanting to kill me, huh? You saved my life, it’s not like you.”

“Wasn’t,” he corrects slowly, “wasn’t like me. Guess we can all change if we want it enough.”

You frown. “What do you want, Kai?”

His eyes are dark in this night, not even the stars above can touch them. “You.”

Your blood feels cold as it runs through you. “What?”

Kai manages to find the strength to roll his eyes. “I know, I know. That was dramatic. I’m being honest, though, Y/N.”

“I know,” you whisper.

When you check his wounds again, you’re grateful to see that the skin is starting to knit together again. You’ve managed to hold him together through the worst of it, which means that he’s going to live. It also means that you have time, now, more time to think about what this means for the two of you, what you’re going to do with this information. You want him too, you realize. You want all of it, and for once, you have the perfect opportunity to have it, too.

tvd tag list: @mayfieldss

#kai parker #kai parker imagines #kai parker x reader #kai parker oneshot #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagines #vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries oneshot #tvd #tvd imagines #tvd x reader #tvd oneshot #tvd kai #tvd kai imagines #tvd kai x reader #tvd kai oneshot #vampire diaries kai #vampire diaries kai imagines #vampire diaries kai x reader #vampire diaries kai oneshot

[cdyssey]

Yellowjackets 2.06 Reactions:

TW: Cannibalism; Traumatic Birth Experiences

Coach Ben teaching Health Ed class!! This man has suffered through so much.

TAIVAN WITH THEIR DESKS SHOVED TOGETHER!! Lolololol, at Misty being the only one who is paying attention and Ben clearly not caring that no one is paying attention.

“Poppies, Jeff. Jackie likes poppies.” She says this to get people to stop whispering about them, but God, I love the intimacy of this line too—the way that Shauna knows Jackie’s favorite flower.

THIS BLUR SONG. WOW, WOW, WOW.

Lmao at Misty emptying all her pockets.

Lottie’s shocked expression when she clocks that it’s Misty for the first time. The almost immediate steeliness, the barely controlled rage. The height difference between Simone and Christina is so fucking funny. Misty is a tiny little bean.

“And I won’t call the IRS about what I assume is your routine tax evasion.” AKQKWNWKSN

Lottie gets a visible headache and asks Misty to stay a while; she possibly had a vision?

“She is the one who decided to act out by dating a cop.” SO FOUL, SHAUNA SNSNDNWNWJDNS.

“It honestly would’ve been better if you just had sex with him.” FOUL FOUL FOUL.

Baby girl is so fucked up!!! Callie and Jeff’s horrified expressions when they hear this shows us that they’re registering this, how off kilter Shauna is.

The girls desperately scrambling to figure out what they should do to help Shauna, and it’s moments like these when you remember that they’re children, and it’s awful.

Tai being right at Shauna’s head, holding her shoulders, wiping off her head, encouraging her. They make me so fucking tender.

Misty has entirely shut down.

“WILDERNESS, I HOPE SHAUNA DOESN’T DIE.” MARI WOQKOQJEWJWJRJNWJEJWNWNENWJS. YOU KEEP DIGGING YOURSELF INTO THAT PIT, GIRL. I LOVE YOU.

Tai holding Shauna’s face reassuring her over and over again that she’s not going to die.

Nat being a fail girl at rifle practice.

“I’m poison. I ruin people.” God, my heart aches for her. She genuinely believes this.

“I killed my best friend… the only person that I loved.” FUCK. 😭

Natalie and Lisa’s relationship is so, so good. The vulnerability between them, the care.

“… we did so much fucked up shit out there. And yeah, maybe it was to survive. Maybe. But I don’t think we deserved to.” GOD GOD GOD. Two things haunt me about this particular line. That second maybe—we’ve known from the start that they did things out there that weren’t solely about survival. Pit Girl. Her ritualistic consumption. But also the fact that this is the condemnation that Nat hangs on them all. None of them should have made it out of the woods alive, and maybe, just maybe, that would have been penance for what they had done.

Tai looks like a peak lesbian in Van’s clothes. <3

Van reminding Tai of her FAMILY, and Tai is just like, lmao, fuck them. It’s you and me, baby.

She is so awful. <33

“You’re married, Taissa. There’s no us anymore.” God.

Tai sees all the overdue bills in the trash can; Van is struggling.

Misty is utterly broken about Kristen. It’s easy for us to say she’s the “well-adjusted” one between all the adults because she’s been able to compartmentalize so well; she’s out there girlbossing and murdering!! But she’s just as fucked up, just as traumatized, even if she invited so much of that trauma on herself: breaking the transmission box, telling Kristen, inadvertently killing that innocent girl.

Nat appealing to Ben, the adult, Ben, the health ed teacher, for guidance, BUT HE IS A FAILURE TOO. “I just pressed play on a video.” AMQKQKKEWKKDOWKSSK

“Women have been having babies for millions of years.” 😭 Nat, I fucking love you. These girls care for each other so fucking much.

GETTING COMFORT FROM HER POCKET MOUSE. AKILAH, I LOVE YOU AMQMQDNJWNS.

Not the cult performing blood offerings in the corner. My God QNKQKQMWNRKWKWMWMWKWJREK.

POV: Ur having a baby in the woods and all the goth kids are being weird about it.

God, Lottie needs to fucking get a new psychiatrist. This lady is the worst.

Simone is such a fucking good actor.

“We did… terrible things in Its name. And I thought when we were rescued, that we left It there, but now I realize… we brought it back with us.” The subtitles are really lending an emphasis to It now. God, I need a side-by-side of all the ladies talking about the terrible things they did in the forest: Shauna talking to Callie, Natalie and Lisa, and now Lottie and the psychiatrist. The horror on all of their faces when they admit this truth aloud; for all of them, it’s almost too much to bear.

“I mean, if you’re done crying, I could tell you some stories.” QKQKKWOWJEJDJ

Ben, ur such a failure. Ily.

The antlers behind Ben in the flashback…

THE PLACENTA FUCKING COMING FIRST. AND THE VIDEO. AND TAI REMEMBERING IT’S SUPPOSED TO COME AFTERWARDS. I’M FUCKED UP.

Crystal and Misty were gonna sing a song at Shauna’s labor. Lmfao.

“You can save our baby.” LOTTIE WTF

“You’re so close to being on the other side.” The double entendre is absolutely there. Shauna is so fucking close to death.

Taissa crying because she cares so much for Shauna and she already knows, from that placenta coming first, this fucking isn’t going to end well.

“Aren’t you probably the last person who should be giving me legal advice right now?” AQQKEMFMEMS, drag her ass, Callie. (Callie and Shauna both wearing that forest green because they are so alike.)

I fucking hate Matt the Cop. Smug fucking bastard!!

Tai fucking with Van about the sorting. 😭 I love them so much.

“No, Tai. You came here for help with your life. If I need help with mine, I’ll let you know.” TELL HER, VAN. One thing I’ve really enjoyed about both Taissa storylines is that they’ve consistently portrayed her as someone who can be judgmental and hypocritical. It’s such a good character flaw for her.

Tai’s entire tone changing when she hears that it’s Lottie.

“It’s a bunch of granola losers, but the food is great, and the BO factor is surprisingly low.” QKQKFNWKOWKEQPJEN

All of these children are crying, and I’m so fucking upset. I care about all of them so goddamn much. Nat and Tai and Misty being right there for her means so much for me. That’s my core four.

Shauna is dying right in front of them.

THE SUBTITLES SAY MISTY, BUT THAT WAS JACKIE FUCKING TAYLOR’S VOICE.

The entire scene is lit differently. The baby is too big and healthy. The placenta came first. The crying is repetitive. This is a goddamn dream.

“… but no, I’d rather keep the past in the past.” / “Van, you run a video store. […] You practically live in the past.” POT CALLING THE KETTLE BLACK, MA’AM. YOU WERE RECENTLY CAUGHT SACRIFICING YOUR DOG IN THE BASEMENT!! YOU CHASED AFTER YOUR EX AND GAVE HER A BOOBY PEN!!!!!!

Taissa is so judgy, lmfao. Never change, girl failure.

“Don’t fuckin’ judge me because I know you’re too evolved for online dating.” GET HER!! Lauren has inhabited Van so well. Like, sometimes I can hear Liv in her delivery of lines.

“But don’t flatter yourself. It’s not because of you.” Vanlottietai triangle in the wilderness when

Natalie, ma’am, I know you have, like, seven different infections from wearing those pants for so long. SEVEN.

Lisa giving Natalie the Fourteenth Gilly, so she’s responsible for something other than herself. 😭 Sobs.

If anything fucking happens to Lisa, I will lose my shit. I love her so much.

Shauna not being able to feed the baby. I’m so fucked up. The other girls can see that starvation awaits.

JEFF PLAYING “FUCK THE POLICE” WITH THE WINDOW DOWN OUTSIDE THE POLICE STATION. I LOVE THIS MAN. HE IS THE FUNNIEST FUCKING HIMBO. ALQWKQODJKWKW

QKQOOWWKMWKDNSNS, JEFF SAYING IT TAKES A WHILE FOR SHAUNA TO GO TO THE BATHROOM. THE LOOKS TAI AND VAN GIVE EACH OTHER. WHAT IS WRONG WITH THIS MAN

He is such a weirdo.

Misty talking about Nat with such love and affection. Girlfriends. <33

“We’re all like this. Aren’t we?” Nat looking at Misty for the first time with sympathy in her eyes. She fundamentally sees that Misty is fucked up too.

I’m fucking crying at this baby starving.

“Your kid doesn’t like you too much, does she?” RIGHT ON THE HEELS OF THAT LAST SCENE. THAT’S SHAUNA’S GREATEST FEAR, HER CONTINUALLY BLEEDING WOUND.

Melanie Lynskey is so fucking pretty.

“You really did a number on her.” God, God, God, God. Shauna and Callie really eff me up. They were doomed from the start, from the moment that Shauna nearly died from having that first baby in the woods.

“And you do not have to be like your mom.” It’s too late, Kevyn. She already is.

“I never even wanted to be a mom. In fact… I did not sta… start out a bad person, but in case you haven’t noticed, life doesn’t tend to turn out the way you think it will. You have a kid that you… you don’t want… to save a marriage that you got into out of… guilt and-and shame. And, and you just… you can’t really let yourself love either of them. But, of course, you do. You-you love them despite yourself. You’re just incredibly bad at it.” I HAVE LITERAL TEARS RUNNING DOWN MY FACE. MELANIE GODDAMN LYNSKEY.

This isn’t Shauna lying. We know that Shauna is a piss poor fucking liar. This is the truth from the bottom of her goddamn heart. She didn’t want Callie. She had her to save a marriage that she only got into because she felt so guilty—about the woods, about Jackie, about what she and Jeff and all the girls did to her. But she loves them. She loves her husband. She loves her daughter. And she knows that she hasn’t done them their due. And this has also been a truth from the beginning. Shauna absolutely loathes herself. She self-destructs partially as a punishment that she thinks fits her endless crime.

The music shifts when she does start lying. What came before it was sincere.

“But leave my kid out of it.” SHE LOVES CALLIE.

I fucking hate this cop!!!

CALLIE SINGLE-HANDEDLY SAVING THIS ENTIRE INVESTIGATION WOQKQKWOQOKWIDJDJEJEJEJEJEJEIEKEMDJD. I FUCKING LOVE HER.

“Especially when they ask me to describe his weird ass balls.” WKQKWOQOOWIWJEJDIEJENWKIRIRIFKDKWKDIDIFIEIWKDJDJWJKSJE.

NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO HATE CALLIE SADECKI.

Lottie feeding the baby. ☠️

JEFF SPITTING HIS DRINK OUT EVERYWHERE DJWJDNDN.

Shauna’s voice break when she says “Yes” about the gun. She’s unraveling and unraveling.

“I am really worried about you. You are, like, out of control, Shauna.” / “Yeah, you think?!” And she actually cries in front of Jeff.

Jeff’s like, “Go, honey. Have a well-deserved mental health vacation with your wilderness cannibal girlfriends. 🥰” He didn’t say that, but I’m paraphrasing.

Callie and Shauna had a plan all along. :/ But Shauna screwed it up. Both of the Sadecki parents trying to reassure their daughter.

NAT TRYING TO, UM, SPARE THE FISH FROM THE COLD CRUELTIES OF THIS WORLD. GOD????

“It’s all a goddamn prison anyway.”

GOOD. THE FOURTEENTH GILLY LIVES.

I’m no fish expert, but um, is that bowl just a wee bit too small?

Shauna talking so tenderly to this baby. This episode is not going to fucking end well.

Shauna saying that she wants the moment for herself, and that’s such a core part of her ethos. This (dream) baby is hers and hers alone, someone she doesn’t have to share, someone that no one can try to control, even though they might try.

LMAO, AT SHAUNA GETTING THERE SO FAST. SHE MUST HAVE BEEN SPEEDING.

Nat has finally changed out of those goddamn leather pants!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Shauna and Nat hug. Oh, God, yeah, yeah, yeah. Natalie was there for Shauna during one of her darkest times, and now they’re both in ruts again. There’s so much solemnity in the gesture, so much pain.

Taimisty joy hug. 😭

VANLOTTIE HOMOEROTIC CRY STARING!!!

THE FUCKING SYMBOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The tea was drugged. 😭 Shauna calling out for Tai and Van.

FUCKING EATING IT. I KNOW IT’S A DREAM. I KNOW. I KNOW, BUT GOD

AND THEN SHE FUCKING WAKES UP, AND THEY’RE ALL CRYING.

“We thought we lost you.” Tai holding her face. I’m fucking unwell.

I CAN’T FUCKING DO THIS. I CAN’T

SOPHIE FUCKING NÉLISSE.

“Don’t you hear him crying? Why can’t you hear him cry?”

Taissa holding Shauna and that dead baby, blood on her hands.

“Why can’t you hear him?”

This is the most upsetting goddamn television I’ve ever fucking seen in my life.

“The infants lungs will fill with air, signaled by a cry.” And at the end, it’s this line from the video documentary that comes back to haunt us all.

#yellowjackets #yellowjackets spoilers #s: yellowjackets #maggie blogs #long post #I'm so so sick

[vinff7]

Wrote a short whump fic for Durge/Gortash because I just love torturing those two. Is AU and altered the control Bhaal has on the Durge a little.

Summary: Rather than Orin tadpoling Durge, Bhaal wanted to take a more hands on approach to the punishment given his failed weapon.

Warnings: not to descriptive torture, bone breaking, and implied non-con.

Have fun!

——————

Rather than Orin tadpoling Durge, Bhaal wanted to take a more hands on approach to the punishment given to Durge. Orin being able to shift into Gortash to take down Durge with ease is proof that he weakens him so Bhaal demands Durge kill him if he wants a chance to reclaim his heritage.

Durge tries to bargain, explain the plan to his father and insist Gortash will die; it just needs to be later. When Bhaal continues to press Durge pleads and begs him not to ask it of him, that he’ll murder anyone and anything else. Bhaal declares sacrifices need to have meaning and Gortash is the one he demands. At this point Bhaal starts to torture him as well, reminding Durge that he created him and can unmake him just as fast.

It eventually devolves to Durge realizing no matter what torture he is put through or what reward is promised, none of it would be worth it if it means Enver was dead. He and Enver had contingencies in their plans if one of them dies. He knows even if Bhaal kills him Enver will still succeed. The dream of ruling was one he knew Enver could accomplish with or without him. He trusted Gortash would see their dream through as long as he lived. Bhaal’s torture and threats of debasement mearly steel Durge’s resolve to refuse his farher in his demand of killing his partner.

Enraged, Bhaal has Orin take Durge away to be punished and breed as that’s all he is good for now. She takes him to a cave by Moonrise towers near the growing army Ketheric is gathering. Durge is tortured and tormented by the monsters in the army but his primary purpose was when he would be drugged into a frenzied state and breed, spreading Bhaals seed through many in the abhorrent army of the Absolute.

—

Many months later Gortash hears rumors of a Bhallspawn breeding in the Absolute’s ranks and investigates. Finds his lover chained to a wall, emaciated and mutilated. As he goes to free him Durge seems to have a seizure, violently thrashing and convulsing until his eyes glow red as Bhaal possesses Durges body.

“Ah, the Banite who ruined my perfect vessel. I hope you know he is here because of you. My perfect blade weakened by sentiment. A weapon that won’t attack is worthless, and no matter how I forced him, he refused to strike you down as I commanded. Wouldn’t lay a finger on you let alone murder you in my name, no matter what I would do to him.”

“So have your fun with him now, if you mean to rescue him, fine. Just know that while you stole My Blood’s heart and mind, I own his body. I created him and can torment and claim his soul when I see fit. But don’t worry I don’t plan on killing him, not when you can kill him for me.”

“This boy endured 8 months of torture to avoid the risk of killing you in my name. I’m itching to know how long you will let him continue to suffer before you murder him for me.”

As the haunting voice fades Druges eyes flicker back to his own, Gortash can see the relief and love mixed with fear and pain in his glossy eyes “Enver.” He whimpered out blood dripping from his lips before his whole body tenses again as he screams. As though to prove a point of the amount of control Bhaal has over him Durges legs twist and crack. Durge hyperventilating as his tibia bones snap inside his legs. Gortash curses reaching to try and help but Durge screams as wherever Enver touches reacts to Durge skin like acid, burning him as he tries to carry Durge away from this torture chamber.

#enver gortash #bg3 #gortash #bg3 durge #durgetash #dark urge #angst #oneshot #goretash #dark urge x gortash #bg3 bhaal #lots of headcanon mixed into canon

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

People are talking about Will's love life again on Reddit. OP is frustrated because of Will's love life (he thinks Byler is unlikely to happen and is frustrated it's too late to write a decent romance subplot with a new character), and redditors are trying to convince them that acceptance of his family and friends is all Will needs, and that it's ok for him to be single 😬

https://www.reddit.com/r/StrangerThings/comments/12yf9d5/i_cant_help_but_feel_bad_that_will_will_never_get/

It’s honestly so sad and frustrating how this is all they can envision for Will. They say stuff like, “Will’s arc is NOT about Mike liking him back (which is impossible cause Mike is straight), it’s about his friends saying they don’t hate him because he’s gay, and it’s okay to be different.”

“The entire point of Mike’s arc is that he’s straight. And even if Mike doesn’t take Will’s confession well at first- because there’s no guarantee he will-he will come around eventually, and that’s okay and even beautiful cause it’s so REALISTIC. I just love how the writers realistically portray the queer experience in the 80s.”

Let’s be real: none of these people who do the Renegade for “realism” even care about “the queer experience” in the first place. Most of them would prefer if Will wasn’t gay, and many of them complained about the show “ruining a good friendship.” Many of them don’t like Will at all, and many would be fine with Will dying. “Realism” is a cover because as long as Will doesn’t get a happy ending with the boy he loves, they can justify themselves still enjoying the show.

You even saw Melvins on Twitter back when the weird airport hug was being discussed say that it’s just “obvious” why the Duffers didn’t have Mike hug Will: because they’re saving it for the brotherly hug after Will’s inevitable rejection.

Never mind how awkward and weird and unnatural it would be for the Duffers to insert a rejection arc into Mike and Will’s bond in Season 5 after Season 4 ends with them being closer than ever and Mike using words like “we” and “team” to describe him and Will. That’s why many Melvins are convinced that Will already let go of Mike in the van and believe/are hoping the show won’t even bring up Will’s feelings in Season 5. Cause they know it wouldn’t make sense.

“Acceptance of his family and friends is all Will needs, and that it’s ok for him to be single.” But the second we suggest that El can find happiness in her found family, and it’s ok for her to be single, they start seeing red. I’ve seen multiple people say, “El has suffered so much and deserves happiness with Mike MORE than anyone,” which is hypocritical (because Will has suffered too, but many of them don’t care about Will), foolish (turning Mike’s heart into some kind of consolation prize for suffering), and an awful message all around (implying that girls need boyfriends who hero worship them to be happy).

Will ALREADY knows he is loved by his friends and family. He has a loving mom, a strong relationship with his adopted sister, close bonds with the Party, and a best friend in Mike (which is all he’s convinced he will ever be). Mike rejecting Will would not surprise Will in the slightest. Will believes Mike is madly in love with El, and he’s the one who worked to mend their relationship. So it’s not like he would randomly confess. The only way this will come up again- and it WILL- is for Mike to address the fruity elephant in the room.

They really think the boy the show made the explicit decision to emphasize saying, “I’m not gonna fall in love” (not because of any personal dating decision or individual preference, but because he’s convinced love CAN’T be for people like him) is gonna be proven correct???

#byler #will byers #mike wheeler #mike wheeler i know what you are #byler endgame #stranger things

[brineffxiv]

We have been invited to a meeting of representatives of all the Alliance nations and the beast tribes.

(Wow, I wish the game would give me a better word to use, feels like a slur to call them "beasts". Also, though I realize them being 3d models would make this difficult, they should really be offered a seat at the table - literally - to make this feel like we actually respect them as equals. Having them stand at one end feels... not right.)

And the meeting is fine and dandy, and we agree to form The Grand Company of Eorzea, and Kan-E-Senna asks Alphinaud to write up a report covering his experiences with the Crystal Braves and and and none of that matters because THIS BASTARD showed up!!

I have slain gods who had committed lesser crimes than the words you just said to your children.

I don't care about the Final Days anymore; Zenos and Fandaniel can go bring about the end of the world and dance in the ashes for all I care. THIS bastard is my new target. I will make you eat those words Fourchenault Leveilleur. You should be ashamed of yourself, and as Hydaelyn is my witness I will make sure you are.

*mutters darkly*

You have a clearer head than I, G'raha, I don't remember what he said besides his being an insufferable git. If the Forum wanted to distract me, that was a masterful way to do it. I'm still fuming.

Oh dear. Looks like Fandaniel is leading a force to Carteneau. I wonder if Zenos will be accompanying him?

But before we can leave on the airship, Fordola meets us and insists we must come with her.

Oh Arenvald, I am so sorry. Is it your legs or your back? I'm sorry. How rude of me. I am glad to see you alive.

Arenvald can fight no longer, so he looks to Alphinaud to carry on where he cannot. Alphinaud doesn't feel like much of a hero, nor is he sure that he is the right person for the job, but Arenvald gives him a pep-talk and we go.

Arenvald is obviously feeling very depressed about the loss he's suffered, but I am glad he has Fordola there for support (Ship it? Ship it). And I am glad it seems that, while he might no longer be able to wield a sword, he's not out of the fight just yet. I am... potentially hopeful we might see some good disability representation through him? It's already refreshing to see the idea that being disabled makes you useless so clearly and strongly rebutted.

Aaaaaaa! Who are you making me fight as this time!?

Okay but I want those little figures. Please. Let me buy the whole set and put them on my desk.

We gotta defend the aetheric confluence. This was painful. I am unskilled with these fights. Especially the one where I had to be Urianger. PAIN.

(Fuck yes Ravana. My favorite primal!)

Please no, Fandaniel. I don't need another homoerotic violence friendship. There is only room in my heart for one muderboyfriend.

We won the day, and, while we could not save them all, we saved some. And that will have to be enough.

I think this is hope.

Yesss thank you game for appreciating my desire to make that man pay.

Omg omg is that a scythe!? Is Zenos a Reaper now? Haha sweet.

Um. What's that spiky edifice behind you there? Also, I just noticed there appear to be ruins of buildings everywhere?

Oh yeah. That's gotta be the main tower that Thancred and Urianger espied in Garlemald. Or the final boss' lair. Possibly both. Spooky fucking thing, regardless.

Opposite of hope?

Ooooo!

I kinda adore you, Zenos. You crazy bastard. I think you've fallen for me and don't know what to do with that, so express it the way you express everything else: violence!

We have assessed the aetheric currents, and determined that the towers are being fueled by drawing upon the lands' aether directly. We must inform our allies of this.

But then...

Hydaelyn?

Hydaelyn!?!? After all this time, what brings you to speak with me? To send an avatar of yourself here?

Oh shit. That's not good. Can you be a little more specific?

Oh dear.

Aaand nobody else saw the glowing lady.

Oooh and now the spooky moon is over us too.

And with that. I believe I have reached the end of Shadowbringers. The greatest expansion so far. I don't feel prepared to sum up an experience as profound as this was. Fantastic game. I am eager to get playing Endwalker.

#ffxiv liveblog #rhesh'a tag #kan-e-senna #alphinaud leveilleur #fourchenault leveilleur #g'raha tia #fandaniel #fordola rem lupis #arenvald lentinus #zenos yae galvus #zenos my friend my enemy #hydaelyn #baseless speculation

[thranduel]

some people are like “even if mike turns out straight, it’s fine as long as his behaviour towards will is addressed” but honestly, no. his behaviour wouldn’t make sense at all and so many things just simply wouldn’t add up if he’s straight.

you can rewatch over and over and over again and try to come up with reasons why he was acting weird with both will AND el and it doesn’t make sense UNLESS he has internalised homophobia and feelings for will. “he’s a teenage boy!” doesn’t excuse it. “he’s in love with el but can’t say ily!” doesn’t excuse it. “he’s just insecure!” doesn’t excuse it. the way he treated will in season 3 and the start of season 4 is totally unlike mike’s character if they were supposed to be “just friends”. it doesn’t matter that he’s a teenager and got a girlfriend. mike would NEVER treat his closest friend, the one he’s always been the most protective of, like THAT. even amidst all the awkwardness, he was still soft and gentle with will and would always apologise to him if he realised he hurt his feelings. mike isn’t like this with ANY other character. his behaviour since the start of the show and the massive difference between his relationships with will and el does NOT make any sense if he’s straight. also from a writing standpoint it makes no sense to make will in love with mike and build this up since the start of the show if mike was straight. they also knew exactly what they were doing by leaving mike’s feelings ambiguous in volume 1 because there was a break before volume 2 came out and the social media accounts started hyping up byler during pride month. people were also making theories about why mike was acting weird, because what else were we supposed to think when he couldn’t hug his best friend he’s known his entire life AND couldn’t say “i love you” to his girlfriend at the same time???? what was the point in making both relationships awkward if he was just going to end up with the same person and the gay kid suffers again?

the fact that none of the writers or cast have denied the possibility of byler when they know how popular the ship is and how many people think it’ll be canon says SO much too. they’ve teased it and hyped it up, noah said it’s a possibility and the duffer brothers put them next to each other in be final scene on purpose which could be foreshadowing, brett showed his full support for them, the social media accounts are fully aware of the ship and post about them, there’s official clothing collabs where the love triangle is on a shirt (mike, will, el) and it would 100% be queerbait at this point ESPECIALLY after how they made merch of will’s painting and are profiting from it.

also even if we put all the off-screen teasing aside, mike and will canonically have the closest relationship and understand each other better than anyone else while mike and el don’t even feel like equals and can’t be themselves with each other???????? mike was literally forced and pressured into his “romantic” monologue and will is the only person who gave him strength and made him feel truly loved in the entire show??????????????? like all of this is canon, it’s in the show, we’ve seen it on our screens. how could mike possibly be stuck with el after all that and why would they do a slowburn rejection and go with the “abused and traumatised gay kid is in love with his straight best friend” trope?? why would they do that to will? what would they gain? they already got SO much backlash for what they did in volume 2 and how they used will as a plot device and broke his heart and made mike say the most corny and forced monologue, and i’m pretty sure they’re fully aware of it, so why would they ruin their own show and a beautiful friendship for no reason?

so even if they try explaining mike’s behaviour or he’s accepting towards will after he comes out, it would still be so stupid and painful and insulting and it wouldn’t make sense at all if will’s feelings aren’t requited. the closeness of their relationship also wouldn’t make sense. how is mike closer to his best friend than his own girlfriend? how does he only feel fully safe and comfortable with will but not el? why is will the only person in the entire show to actually offer emotional support to mike and comfort him and make him feel loved? there’s no way mike is straight when he’s even more queer coded than will and nothing makes sense unless byler is endgame.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #stranger things