#I hate the fact that I am still wondering when she died

[crazy-fruit]

.

[hazbinwhoree]

Hiya ! Let me tell you first that I love your writings about Adam ! Our angel deserves some attention

I couldn't help but notice that there is a lack of hurt/comfort Adam fics 😠

Sooo I've been thinking (read this with Charlie's voice from the pilot) what about an Adam x reader arranged marriage fic ?

Like Adam is given a new wife from Heaven, he treats her really badly at the beginning but then kinda develops a soft spot for her ? Ending with the fluffiest softest smut you can make ?

Do we have a deal ? 😈

I Wanna Be Yours

Adam supposed he should be grateful, he wasn’t alone anymore, but Lilith and Eve had fucked him up so badly that he wanted nothing to do with his third wife. If he got too close, he’d fall in love, and then she’d leave him. So Adam did the opposite of getting close. He got mean.

(Name) was born yesterday. Created by God to be Adam’s third companion. She was born with pertinent information already in her brain, memories, and free will. Free will, and she still wanted nothing more than to be Adam’s wife.

He was so lonely, but he’d never admit it.

At first, Adam was just cold to her. But when that didn’t deter (Name) from trying to get close to him, he grew mean.

“I don’t want you, bitch!”

“Leave me the fuck alone!”

“Piss off, I hate looking at you.”

It started wearing (Name) down. It hurt, he hurt her, constantly. She was growing to dislike him. She wished she could hate him, but she just couldn’t. It didn’t help that they lived together, though Adam had banished her to the guest room, not willing to share his king size bed.

One day, (Name) gave up. She decided she was done being verbally abused as she followed Adam around like a lovesick puppy. So that day, she didn’t follow Adam. She didn’t leave her house. In fact, she didn’t even leave her bed.

To Adam’s dismay, he was disappointed and slightly concerned when (Name) didn’t show up that day. She always followed him around. All day, every day. Adam hadn’t realized how comfortable he got with it.

When he came home that day, he peaked into her bedroom, finding her asleep. His brow furrowed, wondering why she hadn’t followed him today. Adam was going to ask, but (Name) didn’t wake up until morning.

By day four, after three days of cold silence from (Name), and her still not following him, Adam decided to go home early. He got home around noon to catch (Name) off guard, he was never home around noon.

He snuck into the house but didn’t see her anywhere downstairs. He climbed upstairs and peered into (Name)’s bedroom. Once again, that’s where he found her, still in bed.

“Okay, what the fuck,” he asked loudly, barging into her room.

(Name) jumped. When she registered Adam, she scowled. “Don’t scowl at me, bitch,” Adam spat. Something died in (Name)’s eyes and she just looked tired and sad. Adam softened.

“...Sorry.”

That got (Name)’s attention. Adam had never, ever said sorry to her before.

Adam came over and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?” he asked. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” (Name) was appalled. “I’ll fucking tell you what’s wrong.” She sat up.

“I was created for the sole purpose of being your wife so that you would no longer be alone. That is my entire purpose, my whole identity. And you hate me. You’re literally all I have in life and you want nothing to do with me. You weren’t even just cold, you were mean. Nasty. I wish I hated you. But I still love you, and that fucking hurts.”

Adam was quiet for once in his life. He had never really thought about the consequences of his actions. He hadn’t seen (Name) so much as person as he did an annoyance that followed him around. Now here she was, a person. A being with thoughts and feelings. A being he’d been abusing.

He reached a gentle hand towards her and she recoiled. Adam winced. “I’m sorry,” he admitted. “I really am. I thought… if I got too close, you would leave me like Lilith and Eve did.” (Name) blinked at him. “I know that’s a shitty excuse,” Adam mumbled. “I wish I could tell you how sorry I am. I was a fucking coward, in trying to prevent myself from being lonely I made you lonely.” “You did more than that,” (Name) scoffed.

Adam looked ashamed. “Yeah… I’m so sorry. I want to start over. If… if you want that. I understand if you’re done with me, I definitely deserve it.”

(Name) contemplated for a moment. “We can start over,” (Name) said eventually. “But we start slow. I don’t like or trust you right now.”

Adam nodded eagerly. “That’s fair. (Name)?”

“Yeah?”

“Just start coming with me when I go about my day again.”

(Name) did, and over the next two weeks she would accompany Adam everywhere, not follow, because he kept his stride slow so that she could keep up. He talked to her, asked questions about her, got to know her. She quickly became a soft spot for him. It took a lot to not sabotage it out of fear, but Adam managed.

Two months in, and they’d kindled a relationship so well that they had sexual tension. They had yet to act on it, neither realizing that the other wanted it as much as them.

But this was the longest Adam had gone without sex in a long time, and with his high sex drive, it was incredibly difficult. It wasn’t much longer before he couldn’t contain himself anymore. He burst into her room randomly and announced, “I think I love you and I want to fuck you.”

(Name) put down her phone, wearing nothing but short shorts and a tank top, ready for bed. “I think I love you too, and I would very much like you to fuck me,” (Name) replied after a beat of silence.

Adam wasted no time, coming up to her bedside and picking her up bridal-style. “Adam, what–” “You’ve had your own room long enough. It’s time we share a bed. And what better way to consecrate it?” He smirked.

(Name) smiled, holding onto his neck. When they entered Adam’s room, he gently laid her down on his bed. He was going to take his time with this, he’d waited for so long he was going to savor every second.

He shed his mask, and (Name) gasped. She’d never seen him without his mask before. Adam looked slightly unsure of himself. “Kiss me,” (Name) breathed. Adam stood between her legs and bent over the bed to press his lips to hers sweetly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“You’re so pretty,” she whispered when he pulled back. Adam wanted to make a cocky comment, but decided against it for the sake of the moment. He pulled his shirt off, then undid his belt, kicking off his pants. Then he gently pulled (Name)’s tank top over her head, thrilled to finally see her bare rack.

But before he went for her chest, he pulled her shorts down and off. When they were both in their underwear, Adam picked (Name) up and threw her further on the bed. Then he climbed onto the bed and on top of her.

He connected their lips while his hands groped her chest. His tongue invaded her mouth and (Name) moaned. Adam kissed down her neck, her chest, until her reached her left tit, and latched on with his mouth. (Name) gasped as he sucked on her nipple, his hand reaching to roll her other nipple between his forefinger and thumb. (Name)’s fingers tangled in Adam’s hair.

He pulled off with a wet pop and moved to the other breast, taking it into his mouth as well. (Name) hummed sounds of affirmation as Adam gave her chest attention, sighing when he pulled back. Adam’s hand slid down her stomach and inbetween her legs and (Name) bit her lip. When Adam’s hand slipped under her panties and his fingers brushed against (Name)’s wet folds, she moaned. “You’re so wet,” Adam said lowly in her ear. “All for me.”

He entered two fingers inside of her, curling them. (Name)’s back arched a little bit. Adam added a third rather quickly, realizing briefly that her body had been made to fit with his perfectly. The thought almost made Adam sentimental.

Because of this fact he didn’t spend long fingering her. He was impatient, and he didn’t have to. She was already ready for him. He pulled her panties down and off before kneeling back to tug his boxers down. He shed those too and pressed their naked bodies together.

“I love you,” he said quietly, kissing her lips. “I’ll forever be sorry for how I was before. Let me make it up to you~”

(Name) whimpered when she felt his dick pressing at her entrance. Adam grabbed both of her hands in his, pinning them next to her head and intertwining their fingers. “Are you ready?” he asked, not sure how much longer he could wait.

(Name) nodded vigorously. Adam gently pushed his hips forward, slowly sinking into her heat. He groaned, his self-restraint waning. He bottomed out with a heavy sigh. “I love you,” he repeated. “Fuck. You're so tight.”

(Name) couldn’t reply, adjusting to Adam’s size. Once she did, she moved her hips a little bit. “Move,” she begged. Adam didn’t need to be asked twice. He slowly began to roll his hips, thrusting in and out slowly and sensually. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough, so it didn’t last long.

Adam’s hips picked up in pace and intensity. (Name) moaned everytime he drove into her. It was Adam’s new favorite sound. They were in missionary, Adam’s favorite position because he could stare at (Name) while they made love. He could drink in every little expression of pleasure on her pretty face.

(Name) squeezed the life out of Adam’s hands. Adam leaned down to suck love marks onto (Name)’s neck. (Name) threw her head back, giving him easier access while he marked her as his.

When he pulled back, he let go of one of (Name)’s hands, sneaking his now free hand down between them to rub circles around her clit with a slender finger. He relished in the look of pleasure (Name) made, jaw dropping and eyes rolling back. His hips didn’t lose their steady pace until (Name) moaned, “Faster!”

Adam began slamming into her, and with (Name)’s free hand, she clawed at his back. Every thrust hit deep and Adam timed pressure on her clit with every thrust. “Adam,” (Name) gasped. “I’m– nngh~ I’m close.”

“Fuck, me too,” Adam panted. He kept his pace steady, both of their orgasms steadily growing. (Name)’s moans became higher pitched. Adam’s groans grew more frequent.

Eventually, they were on the precipice together, calling out one another’s names as they climaxed. Adam came buried deep inside of her, and (Name) came on his dick. They froze for a moment afterwards, each trying to catch their breath. As they panted, coming down, Adam dropped his forehead against (Name)’s, staring deeply into her eyes. Watching her orgasm had made his euphoric. He kissed her softly, in contrast to the pace they’d just been going at.

“I love you,” (Name) said quietly.

Adam pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to her. “I love you too, (Name).”

[bri-sonat]

Bloodied Waters

Pairing: Brienne of Tarth x Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood and slight violence, a tiny bit of angst, fluff, non-sexual nudity and intimacy. Slight canon deviation.

Synopsis: When Brienne returns covered in traces of battle, you give her comfort and safety - and a nice bath.

A/N: This has been sitting finished since July but I haven't wanted to post it for many reasons. For some reason I don't hate this fic anymore so I am taking the opportunity now so I can't revert back to my original state, lol. As per usual, English isn't my first language and all that.

Thank you to @daydream-cement for being the most supportive and encouraging friend I could ask for, and for reading this and giving me your opinion months ago.

Two months.

It had been two months since you had seen her last. Since she rode off to fight Gods knows what battle. In this time of uncertainty, you couldn’t be sure where she was sent off to anymore.

The imminent threat of the Night King and his army breaching The Wall weighed heavily on the land and it resulted in Brienne being away more than usual – but she had never been away this long.

You couldn’t be blamed when you began to wonder if she was still alive after the six-week mark and she hadn’t returned or been heard from. No one had from the company she had departed with. And when it hit eight weeks, your worries didn't get any better. 

So, they were all either dead or still fighting for their lives. Those were the only reasons your stress-ridden brain could come up with.

If she had been removed from this mortal realm, she would have died alone. Alone somewhere. Probably in immense pain.

Even if it hurt you to even entertain the thought, you hoped her possible death had been fast. That way, she didn’t have to suffer.

Your heartbreaking thoughts were cut short by the sound of a horn, signaling that the group had returned and to open the gate. From your window, you could see a band of people on horses, three of them unmanned, which made you feel uneasy.

It was usually easy to spot Brienne in a crowd of people, but her straw-blonde hair was nowhere to be seen. The pit in your stomach that had been growing over the past weeks seemed to drop when you couldn’t find her.

Maybe the chance of her losing in battle was more probable than you had been willing to accept.

But until someone explicitly told you that she had perished in battle, you would have hope for her survival.

You witnessed as the gate was opened and the warriors rode in - the people and horses disappearing from view before the gate was once again closed.

Staring out the window and waiting for a knock on your door was only going to drive you mad, so you decided to pass the time in some other way.

Scurrying about your room, you tried finding something to do but restlessness got the better of you, and you soon found yourself waiting for that knock on the door that could either be the face of your love, or the worst possible news.

After fifteen minutes of silence, you started to land in the fact that she may not have returned, and the person who knew about your relationship was slowly making their way to your room to deliver the bad news.

You couldn’t take the agonizing pain so you left your room to venture for some hot water – hoping a nice hot bath might allow your tense body to relax. If even in the smallest bit.

When you returned to your room, hot water acquired, you were surprised to discover that there was no one waiting outside your door, nor had you met someone on your walk to or from. It was strangely silent.

The bath basin sitting in the adjacent room to yours looked more and more inviting by the second and you sprang into action before the water in your hands turned cold.

Pouring the large water cans with hot water into the vessel, you pondered how it would be to bathe with Brienne. How it would be to have such calm intimacy with the person you loved more than anything in this world.

The thought made you the tiniest bit sad and even if you wanted to keep the image in your head for as long as you could, you knew it was better to think about something else for now until you knew that the fantasy was a possibility.

You filled the rest up with the cold water from the large bucket next to the basin so it would even out to a nice lukewarm temperature.

Just as you were about to take your clothes off, a knock on the door disrupted your actions and you nearly ran to the door to open it – desperate for any piece of information regarding Brienne.

When you opened the door, you were met by a face you knew all too well, only this time, it was covered in dried blood, grime, and dirt. “Brienne, oh, Gods.”

You reacted quickly by ushering her inside your room and closing the door after her. She didn’t say a single word and her eyes were empty – apathetic and void of any emotion.

You didn’t know if the blood was hers or not but there was only one way to find out.

Carefully, you sat her down on your bed and undid her sword belt and fur cape before you began removing each piece of her dark armor, sneaking eventual glances at her emotionless face, your heart breaking each time she did not even make a move to look at you. She just stared dead ahead.

Never had you seen her like this before.

When all her armor was discarded, you were hit with the stench of iron, sweat, and mud – the smell of what you assumed to be battle. You moved your attention to her gambeson and gloves, working fast to get everything off to assess her condition – if she had been injured or not.

You remained quiet throughout your entire undressing of your girlfriend, if Brienne wanted to talk – she would. You assumed she needed some silence to process everything and just enjoy being back in a safe location.

The moment her gambeson and the rest of her clothing had been removed - you took hold of her dirty hands to guide her up to a standing position. You raked your eyes over her body and found nothing except for more blood, most likely having run down her neck and invaded the skin protected by the armor.

“The blood is not mine,” Brienne croaked out. The sudden noise made you jolt, your eyes snapping up to meet her desolate ones.

“Right...,” you responded, her statement confirming that she was not wounded in a way that would warrant blood. With your worries settled, you guided her to the other room. You had poured the bath for yourself, but she needed it more.

Slowly, she stepped in, her hand in a steadfast grip in yours as she descended into a sitting position until her entire body was underneath the surface – releasing a sigh once the water enveloped her.

You let go of her hand and grabbed a bar of soap sitting on the table next to the basin and she let the hand you had previously been holding fall under the water as well.

Brienne sat in the basin, staring into nothingness – her breathing slow. You rolled up your sleeves, kneeled next to the tub, and submerged the bar in the warm water before you began gently cleaning her skin from the stench and the mud and blood that tainted her soft skin.

Starting with her face and neck, you used your hands to gently apply the soap and you observed the suds turning a brownish red as it mixed with the blood and dirt on her skin.

As your eyes scanned her face, you noticed that her disheveled blonde hair had also been soiled by blood spatter and dried mud. 

“Close your eyes.” It was a gentle command, and Brienne complied – closing her eyes without question.

Using a cloth, you dunked it in the water and allowed it to soak before wringing it out – bringing it to Brienne’s face to wipe away the lather. You dipped it in the water again to rinse it, but you caught a glimpse of it before you did – the color of the froth alien on the white fabric.

With her face now clean, you moved on to her hair. 

Normally you’d utilize your own mixed hair wash for this, but you didn't wish to leave Brienne in her current state to go and collect it. Soap would have to do.

Your movements were slow and calculated as you pressed gently on the bottom of her chin, signaling for her to lean her head back. Brienne complied and tilted her head back and you maneuvered yourself so you could have the perfect view needed to wash her dirtied hair.

Utilizing one of the jugs you had carried the water with, you dipped it in the water to fill it up and used it to wet Brienne’s straw blonde hair, going over it once or twice before you were confident that all the strands were permeated.

You grabbed the bar of soap once again and dragged it against the palm of your hand – getting a decent amount on it before placing the bar to the side and rubbing your hands together. Tenderly, you started massaging the soaping into her blonde curls and scalp, making sure that all the dirt and blood loosened from her locks.

Brienne hummed as your hands mildly rubbed her head – adoring the alleviating feeling it gave her. The feeling of comfort and security. Her eyes were still closed, and she could feel the corners of her lips twitch the tiniest bit as you pressed a kiss to her forehead before moving to fill the jug with water to rinse the soap out of her hair.

You worked softly and slowly when you combed your fingers through her locks – pouring the water over her hair as you did, making sure that all the lather was washed away.

With her hair, face, and neck clean – it was time to wash the rest of her body.

You moved away from the head of the basin and switched to sit at the side of it again, kneeling next to it. You grabbed the bar of soap and immersed your hand into the water that was starting to turn red at this point and started to cautiously drag the bar across Brienne’s chest – removing all the dried blood and dirt.

Whilst one of your hands was in the water, the other one rested on the rim of the basin, right next to Brienne’s ear, and before you knew it, you felt her leaning her head against it. A small smile started playing on your lips at the intimate position you had found yourselves in.

You had never experienced this type of closeness with your knight before – it was incredibly heart-warming and you wouldn’t complain if you found yourself in this position again; without the blood and dirt, of course. 

Brienne’s head rested against the back of your hand at the same time as yours worked on washing her arms, hands, chest, stomach – anywhere you had seen dried signs of battle.

You enjoyed every single second of the casual intimacy. The fact that there were still new ways to be so deeply close even after so many months made you incredibly giddy inside even when the situation you discovered it in was somber.

Like it had the entire time, the only thing filling the silence in the room was the splashing of the water as it hit the sides with your hand continuing to move as it scrubbed Brienne’s skin. It remained like that for a very long time until the blonde woman opened her mouth to speak for the second time since she had come home. Your hand that was scrubbing her sides halted briefly before continuing - her voice surprising you. “Thank you.”

“For what?” You couldn’t help but inquire as to why she was thanking you. What you were doing right now only seemed like the most obvious choice. You took care of each other in any way the other person needed, and you were more than happy to offer her this small service.

She was quiet for a few seconds before she spoke again – her voice low, almost like a whisper. “For this... and for giving me a reason to keep fighting. It... It didn’t look very promising for a few moments, and I was... I was harboring the idea that I would never return to you again.”

You leaned forward to press a kiss to Brienne’s forehead as you continued scrubbing her skin beneath the surface of the water. “This is the least I can do for you... you take care of and for me every day. I wanted to return the favor. Thank you for coming back to me. And you’re welcome. I’m glad to provide you with a reason to keep fighting if it’ll bring you back to me each time.”

Brienne hummed and whined slightly when you removed your lips from her skin. To have someone care for her in the way you did made her feel so gleeful and she was so grateful for you and all you did for her. “Still... Thank you.”

“Anything for my knight.” You smiled as you washed her and finished your response – already knowing the next words coming out of her mouth.

The blonde woman chuckled slightly and silently, having had this exact interaction with you many times before. By now, she knew you did it as a way of making her smile and it worked; every single time. “I’m not a knight.”

“To me you are. You’re my knight.” You saw the smile that crept up on Brienne’s lips at hearing your words, even if she had heard them many times before at this point. “Besides, if you were a man, we both know you’d be a knight by now. You have the traits of a knight, so in my eyes, you are a knight. Even if you don’t have the title.”

Brienne adjusted her head to press a kiss to the back of your hand before returning to rest her cheek on it again. “You’re too nice to me. Thank you.”

“I only treat you in the way you deserve to be treated. Not my fault you’re such an incredible person.” You said this in a way that made Brienne smile and blush – something that you did with ease many times over the two years you had known the adorable knight. It only got worse once you began your relationship because it made you able to be more frank with your compliments.

The blonde didn’t offer a response to your words – silence filling the room once again. The way Brienne spoke about the battle, it seemed to have gone bad, so much so that she thought she wouldn’t make it. You knew she would talk to you about it if she needed to and you had no reason to ask but a part of you wondered what happened that caused her to see no hope.

The rest of the bath went by in tranquility, the occasional kiss on Brienne’s forehead and the planting of lips on your hand mixed with the comforting sounds of water making the second part of the experience a very pleasant one.

After helping Brienne out of the now red-stained water and planting her before the burning fire in the other room to dry with a fur wrapped around her, you told her to stay put before running as fast as you could to her room to collect her comb, and dry and clean clothes for her.

You didn't wish to leave her but the clothes she arrived in were bloody and dirty, and you knew Brienne would appreciate the gesture. 

When you returned, she sat with her legs drawn up to her chest with her arms wound around them on the fur you had put on her.

You slowly approached her and sat down next to her – her folded clothes placed on your bed, the comb resting on the pile. “Hi.”

Her skin was dry now. Her hair was still a bit damp but you knew it wouldn’t be long until it was fully dried as well.

Brienne sighed and leaned her head against your shoulder. She stared into the crackling fire – the flames dancing in her beautiful blue eyes. “...Hi.”

“How are you feeling?” You wrapped an arm around her naked form and pulled her close to you. You had missed her so much and you were not ready to let go anytime soon except to get undressed to join her in bed.

“Better now... A little tired.” Brienne hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in weeks, and she was exhausted at this point. The adrenaline had finally worn off completely and she felt the fatigue creep up on her like she had expected it to once she was back in your safe company.

“It’s getting late... Do you want to go to sleep? I will deal with the water tomorrow.” The sun had started setting as you were washing Brienne and it had been well below the horizon for a while now. You pressed a kiss to the top of the knight’s head and awaited her answer.

“Yes, please.” Brienne sat snuggly in front of the warm hearth, but she knew that it was much nicer to be in your embrace. It was warm, cozy, and oh-so-comfortable.

“Okay... Let’s get you covered and tucked in.” You stood up and began removing the things scattered about the bed. Brienne’s discarded armor, her dirty clothes, her cape, and her sword were swept off the mattress and placed on a round table close to the hearth. Her clean clothes and comb remained on the bed, and you squatted down next to her to lay a hand on her shoulder. “Do you want to get dressed?”

Brienne leaned her head against your hand and closed her eyes. “No. I want to feel you pressed against me entirely. I don’t want clothing to restrict me from sensing all of you.”

You almost melted from her sweet words. You rubbed your thumb against her skin, the pad of it grazing against the tip of one of her scars. “Alright, my sweet Brienne.”

The knight lifted her head from your hand and you slid it down her arm – leaving it to rest on her bicep. You gently rubbed it up and down as she opened her eyes and stood up.

You swiftly removed the pile that was on the bed and placed them on the table as well. You would have to comb her hair tomorrow instead. 

With the bed empty, Brienne could pull off the furs and crawl in under them – covering her bare body and providing her with warmth and comfort for the first time in weeks.

She laid on her back as she watched you undress, folding your clothes and placing them on top of your trunk.

You finally crawled into bed and cuddled up next to Brienne, her skin incredibly soft. She hummed as you slung one arm and leg over her torso, bare skin against bare skin, and rested a hand on your thigh.

Her other arm went around your shoulders and pulled you closer – your head resting on her chest.

Her rhythmic heartbeat was a consistent reminder that she was indeed alive and still with you. After two months of being apart, the whole situation felt imaginary, but her steady heartbeat let you know that it was real – that she was indeed with you. “I can hear your heartbeat.”

Brienne’s hand on your thigh rested securely and her thumb drew soft lines across your skin. She smiled at your words as she kept her eyes closed to invite slumber. “It’s beating because and for you.”

Her words caused you to pull yourself even closer to her, which was impossible to do at this point. A smile and a blush crept up on your face, she always said the most adorable things and you had no idea what you did to deserve her love, but you were so thankful for her. “You’re sweet. I love you so much.”

Brienne chuckled quietly and you could tell she was close to falling asleep by her voice. “You bring out that side in me... what can I say? I love you, too. Thank you for being here when I returned.”

“I will always be here when you return,” you whispered. You were starting to feel the weeks of worried sleep catch up to you by now and you were more than ready to finally fall asleep in her embrace once again.

The only response Brienne gave was a hum and it fell silent after that.

You heard the knight’s breathing even out after a few minutes, and it signaled that she had fallen into a slumber that you hoped was a deep and restful one. You could only imagine the conditions she has been having to sleep in, and you couldn’t see them being comfortable.

You listened to her breathing and heartbeat for a few more seconds before sleep claimed you as well. Now back with a safe Brienne, you knew that you’d sleep incredibly well. You always did with her.

When you awoke the next morning, Brienne would kiss you all over to make up for two months of being away from one another. But that was up to you in the future to find out. Until then, you were more than happy to finally be with her again, and you remained clinging to your knight all night long.

------

taglist: @na-shoba, @pastanest, @the-fuck-do-i-know, @christies-fleur, @idontlikepexple, @lord6-6fandom, @sapphicmitski (can't tag you for some reason)

[val-of-the-north]

More observations for the trailer I am going insane!!!

I can't claim the original observation of this candle tree detail is mine, but it's from a Japanese Twitter user, here's a screenshot of the post and a link to it as well [x]

The rest of this observation IS mine though, so let's get to it:

With all the talk of cardinal sin, Messmer having a few parallels to Lucifer as pointed out by some friends of mine [x] I have to wonder if he is the cause of a speculated first burning of the Erdtree.

If this is the first time you have heard about this concept, I'll give a short summary. You know how Leyndell is covered in ash by the time we reach it in-game, and how that goes unexplained? We know for a fact that must be the Erdtree's ashes because after we claim the Rune of Death and the Erdtree burns even more, the capital is entombed in it.

We are also told that the Age of Plenty, an age in which the Erdtree gave physical blessings from its sacred sap, swiftly came to a close and the tree had to be changed to simply an object of faith...

So the theory claims that the reason why the Age of Plenty ended so swiftly was due to the Erdtree being set on fire. In theory spaces, the go-to culprit for this speculated action has often been the Gloam-Eyed Queen, with her connections to fire (Blackflame specifically) and Destined Death, but now there's the possibility that this was all Messmer's doing after all. Promotional material and dialogue seems to really denote his affinity for scorching and setting things ablaze.

This probably also means he is the inventor of that scary flame construct that according to Miyazaki as per this interview [x] was an old war machine, no doubt used during this "unsung battle".

Another important part of Messmer's design is the two snakes, which point us back to the Age of Plenty! Godfrey likely ruled during and directly after that time, and the arenas were likely built because of him. It had to be during Godfrey's rule because by the time Radagon became Elden Lord the practices of the colosseums had died down, as told to us by the Ritual Sword and Shield Talismans:

One of the more interesting aspects of the gladiatorial battles that once took place is the snake symbolism on the gladiators' armor.

So the snake was a symbol of a generic "traitor to the Erdtree", and it predated Rykard's blasphemy by an entire age at least... so what if it wasn't generic at all and it represented Messmer himself? He might have been the perpetrator of a betrayal so foul that Marika removed all traces of his existence from her empire's history, but kept the symbol of the snake as a spiteful reminder of him and all other subsequent traitors. After all, she does seem to have power over which one of her children gets remembered or not, and if not her, then the collective of the Golden Order:

Do note that we don't know when she said this. It could have been while she was still at the height of her rule or right before the Shattering. What we do know for a fact is that the soulless demigods inside the Walking Mausoleums have no known history to speak of, which is quite unlike Godwyn, one of the more accomplished members of the family. So yeah, being forgotten by history might be something the Golden Order does to those they deem unfit, so Messmer could be a likely candidate for such treatment... except instead of doing nothing noteworthy he did TOO much lol.

Now I gotta wonder if Marika hated him more or less than her Omen babies. One could argue that locking them down in a sewer close to where she lives was done more as an obligation than any true resentment. She could have sent them to the Shadow Lands if she really wanted them gone and unaccessible, as that place seems filled with Crucible-related things...

I am not saying she was a good mother to them because she didn't kick them to the Shadow Lands, but perhaps she DID have some small affection for them that she really couldn't follow through with.

Of course, maybe she just couldn't banish them anymore after banishing Messmer for whatever reason (maybe she cut-off a connection to that realm?). However, the most likely possibility is that he WAS known like the many soulless demigods and that Mohg and Morgott predate him. It's just that while those two were born undesirable through no fault of their own and were thus only hidden away, he BECAME undesirable which was worse in Marika's eyes so he gets the extra banishment and the removal of all of his history... there are so many possibilities...

[libraryraccoon]

Kk so I am too lazy to write on my own but I have come up with a pretty good day dream scenario that you can write for ( I might also do it but maybe not).

But a police officer with a strong sense of justice goes to hell and starts trying to organize after spawning in one of the worst areas in hell, even the overlords are hesitant to go in there. But as they gain more and more power the area to clean up expands.

Their really not a bad person , one of the only reasons their there is because they had premarital sex . ( They banged someone's wife when drunk).

Was killed by the husband by a shot in the chest. Now resemble a fox because of their wit and inganuty.

( in sry if it's too specific but you can cut out anything u don't want)

Gender : GN

Pronouns : None

Message from Raccoon : I try to write a police officer!reader, but i'm pretty sure it's bad.

TW : Reader is in Hell 2 years before the series, 🟣 (one time mentionned), violence.

General Headcanon

In your lifetime you were a police officer, and a good one at that.

But unfortunately, one day you died and arrived in hell.

The person you loved was cheating on their partner with you. They didn't like it and killed you.

You are now in Hell.

Hell sorely lacked justice, but it's okay, you will rectify it.. :)

Vox didn't like you. Like, really.

He heard about you after you nearly beat Valentino to death.

Why did you beat Valentino ? Because he was a 🟣, forcing people to prostitute themselves, and more.

You also beat Velvette a bit because she created the love potions.

So yes, he didn't like you.

He start to hate you when you broke his head/tv when you saw him manipulating people..

It's hell ! What did you expect ?! Everyone manipulates !

A violent police officer. This is what you were.

You killed everyone who did things against your morals... in one month you killed more than the exterminators ever did.

Adam sees you as a sort of rival/person on his level.

Alastor find you entertained.

You were the only one in Hell with a moral, so you were interesting.

He also finds it very interesting that you manage to beat 3 Overlords and that 2 Overlords (Carmilla and Zestial) consider you their equal.

He wanted to come talk to you, but he decided not to after seeing you kill a demon with an angelic weapon because they were cannibals.

Compared to what you might think, he have a sense of self-preservation.

When you arrived at the hotel, as part of security, Alastor was a little scared..

Especially when you pointed your gun at his forehead, where the hunter had shot, killing him when he was alived.

Bonus point if you are a dog demon, he is really scared and wonders if you want to reproduce his death.

Husk love you and love the fact that you can scared Alastor, he live for seeing that man being your victim.

Niffty love you, she think you are a real bad boy ! RIP

You and Vaggie get along well, you both know that not everyone can be redeemed (looking at Alastor from a distance) and you know how fucked up Hell is.

But you help Charlie because some still have a chance to redeem themselves (looking discreetly at Sir Pentious).

Sir Pentious was afraid of you at first, but in the end he start to like you.

You always get him out of the worst situations, I can imagine that you saw Vox try to use his power on Sir Pentious when he was a 'spy', and you directly destroyed the watch by throwing a knife at it.

Sir Pentious didn't even notice you were here-

After that, a long conversation followed about why we should not harm the Hotel and its residents and avoid the Vees.

Sir Pentious thanked you very much for that by the way.

After that Vox received a little visit from you..

If it wasn't for Charlie stopping you from killing him, he would have died instead of just being injured/broken.

Vox spent a week in repair/hospital.

Angel Dust adores you.

Every time you accompany him to work, strangely Valentino gives him the day off..

Yeah, he takes you with him whenever you can.

Even if you hate the Overlords, you are one of them.

Overlord D/N (demon name), the Police Officer of Hell.

Carmilla loves it when you are at meetings, the other Overlords (*cough* Vees *coughs*) are always calm when you are here.

You 🤝 break into Lucifer's house.

Yeah, because well before the hotel, 3 days after your arrival, you break into Lucifer's house.

Why ? Because you found unacceptable that he didn't manage Hell and let the demons do all they want.

You didn't expect to find yourself faced with a depressed father whose wife left 5 years ago and who he no longer really has contact with his daughter.

You had to play therapist and friend.

Literally you were giving him therapy sessions in exchange of him letting you stay at his house.

You don't even have a degree in therapy.

Lucifer considers you as his lifeline. He clings to you for dear life, metaphorically and literally.

Hurt this man and the next day you will find his corpse-

Is this a healthy friendship ? No, but are you going to ignore this fact and pretend everything is normal ? Yes.

You have changed his point of view on demons, in the sense that some, not all but some, can be redeemed.

I headcanon that you repaired Charlie and Lucifer's relationship, and that before the series.

Greatest dad didn't happen, sorry everyone.

[thelov3lybookworm]

Hi! Omg I loved reading your Rhys x reader secret pregnancy fic! May I please request a Lucien x reader where he’s been cursed to stay in the form of an actual fox and the then reader comes along to break his curse? Thank you!!

Cursed

Summary: The mother liked being cruel to Lucien. First she had him lose his eye, and now his body.

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: mention of being a child of forced intimate relation, other than that, I'm not sure there is more, so let me know if i need to add anything.

A/n: my love, my heart, my baby anon. come here so i can sing you to sleep and cuddle with you because holyyyy shit i love this idea aaaahhhhh. (i am ready to be your tumblr wifey)

also, the beginning is basically our Y/n trauma/info dumping

anyways, enjoy!

(I had fun talking to you about this @artists-ally)

•○🌑○•

A twig snapped behind Y/n, and she rolled her eyes in frustration.

After wondering for a moment if she should ignore the animal, she decided to turn to look.

There, next to a mighty tree, crouched the fox. Abnormally large, fluffier than a normal fox, it had been following Y/n around for the better part of the week.

The moment Y/n met the fox's mismatched eyes, it tensed, as if ready to bolt. But then, after a moment, it relaxed, again staring at Y/n curiously.

The problem wasn't the fact that it was a fox. No, there were plenty of foxes in the forest near Y/n's home. But those foxes didn't follow her around or sit outside her door at all hours.

This one did all of that.

She wouldn't have been much bothered if it had been a normal fox following her around. But this one had a weird aura about it, like it was not an ordinary fox.

The fox suddenly moved, slowly prowling towards Y/n. She watched it, its body moving and navigating through the roots and fallen branches graciously, as if it were an elegant lady in the royal court.

Y/n shook her head, turning away and continuing on her journey to the cluster of trees deep into the forest to collect some fruit for herself.

The fox fell in step beside her.

She did her best to ignore the animal, though its unnatural aura kept her glancing at it.

Unfortunately, it also had her distracted, and she almost didn't pull up the hood of her cloak when a mortal man walked into view, carrying a bunch of firewood on his back.

But thank the forgotten gods, the man was too busy grumbling to himself to notice the pointed tips of her ears before she covered them.

Being a half fae was hard when living among mortals.

She could get killed if anyone found out about her heritage, and that was the only real reason she had for living on the outskirts of the small town, right next to where the forest started and away from the mortals.

And honestly, she cursed whoever the bastard was that had raped her mother and sired her for the inconvenience.

But she couldn't go down that path of thought, because if she did, she would just end up on the same thought that had her staying up at night and bawling her eyes out.

She was lonely.

It had nothing to do with the solitude of her house. No. It was because she was a half fae, and while other girls her age would mingle with other young men or whoever caught their fancy, she could not do so for fear of being killed.

She also had no family, her mother having died when Y/n was still young. Y/n had no siblings or relatives who could have taken her in, and so, she had learned to take care of herself.

She had also early on learned that the world didn't take kindly to people that were even remotely different from their perception of normal.

Especially beings who had a reputation to torture innocent souls for fun.

Y/n could not blame mortals for hating fae, as she herself hated them, though for completely different reasons.

It was not the best experience when you were scorned by the people you were a part of.

Hated by mortals for being a product of human-fae union, and hated by fae for being a half breed.

She sighed, shooing those thoughts away as she reached the cluster of trees she had been on the journey to, and set down her basket for a moment, stretching.

The fox settled down under an apple tree, and simply stared at Y/n as she went about plucking different fruits and berries and piling them in her basket.

Once she was done, she turned to glance at the fox, who sat unnaturally still.

She thought for a moment, then picked out a juicy apple from her basket. "You want one?"

The fox kept staring at her, and Y/n felt silly for trying to communicate with a fox. She huffed, putting the apple back in her basket and beginning to make the journey back to her little cottage.

•○🌑○•

"Do you think it will storm?"

The fox cocked its head, staring up at the sky before making a small noise, which Y/n took as affirmation.

"I think so too."

While a month ago Y/n would have laughed at herself for talking to -trying to talk to- an animal, now it had become normal. The darn fox never left her side nowadays, and Y/n had grown fond of him, letting him into her house and keeping him fed and warm. She had even named him Rusty.

Rusty glanced at Y/n before it settled down, laying his head on her lap, snuggling into the soft and fluffy material of her thick leggings.

A small smile made its way onto Y/n's face, and her hand lifted of its own accord, burying itself into the fur on the top of his head.

Y/n still remembered how she had felt uncomfortable around the fox because of the unnatural aura it gave off, but she had gotten used to it. Now, it was a companion who Y/n simply adored.

A long moment passed, and Y/n was not entirely sure it wasn't hours, but the sky darkened just a fraction.

Y/n glanced up in confusion, because she was sure it had been brighter just a moment before. Suddenly, the warmth in her lap vanished, and Y/n's head snapped down, her brows furrowed.

Rusty was no longer next to Y/n. He was across the clearing, and Y/n could not fathom how he had crossed the vast area so quickly. Her suspicions about him grew, and she realized his body was beginning to shake.

Y/n quickly rolled to her feet, her eyes growing wide when he began spasming, a tortured whine escaping him. She could do nothing but stare as his paws dug into the soft ground, pain filled sounds continuing to rip from him.

The moment Y/n stepped forward, hoping to do something to help Rusty, his head snapped up, a low growl he emitted leaving her frozen in place. And his eyes...

They were glowing.

Unnatural, completely otherworldly brightness radiated from him, his aura becoming ten times different from what it had been.

Y/n watched, her blood chilling, as he continued to struggle until the smell of something burnt reach Y/n.

Everything stilled after that, and Rusty collapsed, breaths heaving out of him.

And, the place where his paws had been, was nothing but burnt remains of the leaves fallen from the trees

Y/n studied the fox until he had gained enough strength to stand again, and his eyes stared back at Y/n.

She swallowed as the fox prowled closer. "You are not a real fox, are you?"

Rusty swung his head from side to side, his eyes boring into Y/n.

She nodded, wondering why she was even surprised. "Are you fae?"

His head dipped.

Y/n dragged her palms down her face, trying not to lose her shit.

"Why are you here? What do you want from me?"

He cocked his head, as if questioning her how he was supposed to answer.

She released a frustrated breath, going through all the reasons why a shapeshifter would follow her around.

She could only find one reasonable reason.

"Have you... have you been cursed?"

The fox dipped his head slowly, and Y/n took a step back, horrified.

"And you are here because you... what? Want me to break you free?"

The fox whined, taking a step forward.

"No." She stepped back again, continuing until her back hit a tree. "Fuck. No. I will not be used and discarded by you too. I will not..."

The sadness in the fox's -Rusty's -eyes nearly brought Y/n to her knees, but the fox simply dipped its head again after a moment, turning and prowling away from the clearing and, in turn, Y/n.

She watched him go, his shoulders curved inwards, looking defeated.

And, despite her instincts telling her to go behind him, she turned away too, walking in the opposite direction, towards her small hut.

•○🌑○•

The windows shook, their sound a little too loud in the small home, and Y/n's fingers curled tighter on the book, the pages crinkling under her fingers.

Thunder cracked somewhere, and Y/n flinched, squeezing her eyes shut. With a sigh, she put her book away, tugging her blanket closer for warmth. She turned to look out the window, where it was completely dark, not one tree visible.

And, despite her attempts at trying to ignore her worries about Rusty, she could not help but wonder where he was.

Was he somewhere in the forest, getting soaked by the rain, shivering?

Was he wandering around hopelessly, hoping someone took pity on him?

Y/n shook her head, telling herself she did not care.

But of course, she did.

Since the moment she had turned away from his retreating form, she had not been able to think about anything but him.

Y/n had never had anyone that particularly cared about her, so having even a damned fox use her for his own gain cut something deep in her heart.

But then a thought occurred to her, and all her feelings of betrayal were forgotten.

What if it is a child?

Or what if it is just like me, never had anyone who cared?

What if he gets incinerated in the storm by lightning?

Oh fuck it.

The second to last thought was what snapped Y/n's restraint, and she grabbed her cloak, lit a lantern, and set off to find her Rusty.

•○🌑○•

The rain made it even harder to see in the night, but Y/n soldiered on, determined to rescue the damsel in distress. Though the damsel was a male and could probably not be in distress.

He could have found a cave to snooze in, and Y/n was setting herself up to be sick for nothing.

Her heart didn't seem to care for that judging by the way it was screeching in her ears.

A flash of light caught Y/n's eyes, and she stilled, lifting her lantern higher, hoping she had finally found the sneaky bastard.

It was just a piece of glass, and Y/n cursed whoever had thrown it here.

After a long time of searching, Y/n spied a gap in the trees, knowing it led to a small cliff. Her instincts told her to follow the trail, and she decided trusting her heart was the better option than trusting her brain.

She had decided to ignore her heart in that clearing, and now she was stuck in a storm.

Lightning brightened the world for a moment, and Y/n lifted her hand to shield herself as she reached the cliff.

Unfortunately, Rusty was not there as well.

Frustrated, Y/n sighed, turning away from the drop.

And then she paused, her eyes landing on a bush.

Under which lay Rusty, shivering and curled in on himself.

Guilt spread through Y/n, and she stepped closer with caution.

His eyes flew open, his teeth bared as he searched around for a predator.

His eyes widened when he realised it was Y/n who stood in front of him now, and he ducked his head, as if ashamed.

Y/n walked forward, and watched as his shoulders curved inwards, trying to make himself small.

She crouched, extending her hands towards him, and he stared at it for a moment, then at Y/n before taking a tentative step closer, gaining more confidence when her hand remained unwavering. He stopped a few with his face a few inches away from her hand, and she reached out to pet his nose.

"Come," she whispered, "let's go home."

He stared at her for a moment longer, and Y/n felt like there were tears in his eyes, but she couldn't be sure because it could very well be rain water.

Navigating the forest to return home was much easier and faster than it had been searching for Rusty, and Y/n was glad about that, as she could think of nothing but changing into warm clothes and getting warmed in front of her fireplace now that she had finally found Rusty. Also, she had to wash Rusty and feed him. It had been long since he had left and Y/n doubted that he had eaten anything.

As soon as Y/n stepped foot inside her home, she shucked off her cloak, setting down her lantern and turning to find that Rusty still hadn't crossed the threshold.

"Come on in, Rusty."

She beckoned to him, and he trotted in, shaking his head to get rid of the water.

"Let's get you into a warm bath first."

Y/n hurried into the bathing room and turned on the faucets, letting the tub fill with warm water. Feeling eyes on her, she glanced back to see Rusty sitting patiently by the door, like a gentleman. Y/n smiled.

"Get in." She told him when the water had filled to the point she knew he liked. "I will go and get changed, and you get yourself cleaned up until then. We can have food after."

At the last part, his head snapped up, his eyes wide. But then he jumped into the tub, and Y/n was left to wonder why he seemed so shocked.

•○🌑○•

Y/n wrapped the tiny towel around Rusty, giggling at how funny he looked before she placed the red coloured bowl in front of Rusty, his favourite.

She stared at him as he began eating, and stared, and stared.

The air changed the moment he took his first bite, growing thicker and heavier with every moment that passed.

Confused, Y/n glanced behind her, and when she turned back to rusty, she let out a small scream.

In the place that Rusty had been occupying, sat a man... naked.

Y/n had never climbed to her feet so quick in her whole life as she did then, covering her eyes. But then she peeked out from between her fingers, seeing him blushing furiously while trying to cover up his private parts with the tiny towel. It was barely enough to cover up his chest, so he had to hold it with both hands like a curtain in front of his hips.

"Who the hell are you?" Y/n screeched.

She noticed now that he had hair like liquid flame, his eyes were mismatched, and he was... fae.

Realisation washed through Y/n.

"You- You're Rusty."

He grimaced. "Yeah, though I am a little concerned with that name. Can we please not use that? Like, Rusty? Really?"

Y/n let her hands fall to her side, settling on her hips. "You bastard, you should be grateful I let you stay and gave you a name. Imagine how weird it would have been in if I called you fox."

"Yeah, I think that would have been better than Rusty."

Y/n scoffed. After a moment, she spoke again, struggling hard to keep her gaze on his. She deserved a fucking medal for it.

"So... what was your curse? And who had so much free time to put one on you?"

A hint of a smile appeared on his face. "Don't you think this is kind of inappropriate to talk about while I'm naked?"

Y/n rolled her eyes as she moved past him, walking into her bedroom. "You never had a problem before when you pranced about, wooing all the female foxes."

She was now sure he was grinning when he replied. "Yeah well, they didn't wear any clothes either. If you were to strip..."

Y/n whipped around from where she was rummaging in her closet for something to gape at him. He grinned, leaning against the doorframe, his hands folded against his chest.

That meant-

Y/n turned away from him just as fast as she had turned to him, and no matter how much she denied it, the image of him... it would be forever embedded in her mind.

"Asshole." She mumbled under her breath, her hand landing on a piece of clothing she was unfamiliar with.

It was a pant she had stolen years ago, and later realised it had been too big for her. It would have to do.

Without turning, Y/n threw the pants over her shoulder, and by the lack of sound, knew Rusty had caught it.

It was a few moment before he hummed, letting her know he was done, and Y/n turned, her mouth going dry at all the muscle displayed.

She hadn't had the time to appreciate what she saw before, as she was trying not to make a fool of herself by staring at his privates, but now that he was covered from the waist down, she could not help but stare at what she could see.

"Like what you see?"

Y/n's eyes flashed up, colour staining her cheeks as she huffed.

"Of course not. You are still Rusty for me, and I'd never think of someone called Rusty as anything I like."

He scoffed. "Please, my name is Lucien. I'd appreciate it if you stop referring to me as Rusty."

She lifted her chin defiantly. "No."

He sighed. "Very well, my lady. If that is what you wish for. After all, you broke my curse, I can't really order you around anymore."

"Yes, about that curse. Care to elaborate now that you are appropriate?"

He nodded, a seriousness coming over him. He followed her as she led him back out, settling down in front of the fireplace as she boiled some water for tea.

Once the tea was ready, Y/n passed one cup to Rusty- Lucien- and studied him, watching as he fumbled a little with the cup before he got a good grip on it.

"Let's start from the beginning." She nodded her head for him to continue. "Do you remember the most recent war that happened?"

She nodded. The destruction had been immense, according to what she had heard through rumours, but she lived far enough away from the wall that no harm reached her.

"There was a continent called Hybern. One of my closest friends was pretending to aid Hybern so he could gather intel about the kingdom's and the king's inner workings so he could help Prythian when the inevitable war came. Soldiers from Hybern had stolen the cauldron from its resting place in Prythian, and they knew that it could make anyone young and immortal."

"What is the cauldron?"

Lucien glanced at Y/n with raised brows, but explained to her what the cauldron was, who the mother was, and all the things that probably didn't matter to the story just because she didn't know about them.

A power like that? People would kill for it. Y/n thought.

"My friend's past lover, who had been mated to another high lord, arrived in Hybern, and realised her sisters had been kidnapped. The king ordered the sisters to be put into the cauldron. One of them turned out to be my... mate."

The jealousy that ripped through Y/n was unmatched from anything she had ever felt. And for what? The mention of someone she did not even know? Ridiculous.

"The older one, she apparently took something from the cauldron, in turn making the cauldron take away the youth from the human queen put in after her. The queen was furious, and she allied with a powerful death sorcerer."

"He found out about my... relationship with one of the sisters, and before we killed him, put a curse on me, because I was standing the closest to him. He turned me into a fox, and I could only be turned back if someone who loathed fae gave me shelter and food, even after knowing I was fae."

"Powerful death sorcerer, and all he could think of for his last breath was to turn you into a fox." Y/n muttered under her breath.

A breathy laugh escaped Lucien, which then full on turned into howls of laughter.

"So, what, your mate could not help?"

"She probably could have, given she couldn't bear being near me, but she wouldn't have. Me being a fox gave her freedom to pursue whomever she wished."

Y/n sighed. "Is everyone from the other side of the wall dumb?"

He shook his head, staring into the embers of the fire, though a smile remained on his mouth. Y/n glanced out the window, realising the sun was starting to rise.

"We should probably get some sleep."

Lucien followed her gaze to out the window, and he nodded.

"I will take the couch, you should sleep on your bed."

"Nonsense. You have been invading my space for the past month like your life depends on it. It won't be a big deal if you sleep next to me."

"Sleep next to you, not with you?"

"You know what? You can sleep on the porch."

He laughed, standing and pulling Y/n to her feet.

He leaned down, pressing his lips to her cheek.

"Thank you."

Y/n blushed, shaking her head.

"I will leave as soon as I can."

Hurt pierced Y/n's heart like a bolt from hell. "Why?"

His brows furrowed. "Why? I have taken enough advantage of you. I don't want to impose."

She shook her head again. "I like when you impose."

He smiled.

"If you say so."

•○🌑○•

General Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686 @cassie6392

Lucien Taglist: @kennedy-brooke @hnyclover @minnieoo @mirandasidefics @sidrapotter @hnyclover

[c-optimistic]

Hey, i saw you tagged something with "#Kara has been okay with dying for a very long time#makes me wanna write about it" and I just thought I'd pop in to say that if you write about it I would love to read it :D

The Phantoms lie.

She knows this, she knows this. But the truth is, the Phantoms do more than just lie.

They twist memories, create waking nightmares, force you to relive the most painful things your own mind can conjure up.

(And Kara’s mind is a dark place.)

She can distinguish it at first, what’s real and what’s not real. There’s a lot giving away the fake memories, the implanted thoughts. Little details that give Kara enough distance from what she’s seeing to recognize it’s not real.

Things like cruel smirks on Alex’s lips that she never wore in reality.

Things like J’onn’s distrustful eyes following her, like Nia’s disgust when she appears, like Brainy’s disappointed shake of his head when she takes another step.

But then, she loses focus. She loses her grip on reality. Because she sees Lena’s tearstained face, hears her blaming Kara for lies and betrayal and loss and...it’s all true. It’s true, and she finds she can’t tell the difference between the Phantoms’ lies and her own bitter memories.

(She takes another step, needing to keep moving, needing to find a way out, needing to get home.

The lies, the memories, and the hurt all follow.)

It’s cold in the Phantom Zone. Cold, dark, and utterly silent. There’s nothing but the sound of her boots against gravelly soil, chattering teeth, and guilt and blame ringing in her ears, the voices of her friends and family shouting at her, not wanting her, hating her.

(The Phantoms lie. She knows this.

She has to know this.)

There are no signs of passing days. There’s no rising and setting sun, no waxing or waning moons, no indication that time passes at all. At first, she tries to count, to create her own sense of time, using the numbers to block out the voices and the visions, but she loses track, loses focus, watches everyone she loves die and wishes she died with them.

(The Phantoms lie.

She thinks she knows this.)

Kara takes another step. And another.

(It’s painfully cold. Her thoughts make her feel colder.)

A step. She has to keep moving, even if she’s unsure where she’s going. Why is she still going?

(The Phantoms lie.

But lies with a foundation of truth are always easier to believe.)

Kara stops, surrounded by images of all her dead loved ones, and she drops to her knees to join them.

///

When she wakes, she’s in a small cave-like structure, a glow emanating from a fire that gives off no heat.

And the man who has rescued her, the man in the robes and defeated eyes, is her father.

When he notices she’s awake, he’s careful to shift, appear as non-threatening as possible, smiling benignly at her. And Kara just lays there, staring, wondering if she’s dead or if this is just yet another ghost sent to haunt her.

“Kara,” he says finally, breaking the silence, his voice cracked from disuse, tongue clearly not practiced with the single word he utters.

“I’m dead,” Kara guesses, sitting up, watching the robed man who has taken the guise of her father carefully. “Right?”

“No, you are not dead.”

“But you’re not him,” she says, not really accusatory, just stating a fact. He looks at her sadly, like she’s hurting him.

“I am Zor El,” he says, almost like he believes it. “I am husband to Alura. Brother to Jor El. And most importantly, father to Kara Zor El.”

Kara gets to her feet shakily, stepping as far back from him as she can, back pressed against the cave walls. “No, stop. Zor El is dead. He died. He put me in a pod, alone, and sent me off, and he stayed to die with Krypton.”

Like I should have, she doesn’t say. I should have died too.

“You’re not real,” she tells him, meeting his gaze defiantly. The robed man, the man who calls himself Zor El, the stranger, lets out a sigh and hangs his head.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he tells her quietly. “You know this.”

///

They begin their journey. Her hallucination tells her there’s some sort of outpost. A place she can perhaps send out a message, they merely need to get to it. He tells her he will go with her.

He tells her to be strong.

(And she wonders if this ghost knows what she’s thinking, if he can look into her mind and read those dark thoughts she can’t seem to shake.

Because even as she takes step after arduous step, she is focused on a singular notion: perhaps the universe would be better off with her dead. Perhaps fighting had no use at all.

Perhaps, in those endless days, dark and cold and alone in her pod, aimlessly floating through the vast expanse of space, she should have given up. Perhaps it would have been better.)

Ghost-Zor El doesn’t touch her, but she feels his heavy gaze on her, and she turns to him.

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he reminds her, giving her a smile that brings back memories of her father, of sitting in his lab and learning more about his work, of listening to his stories, of watching him when he wasn’t paying attention. “You should know this.”

///

Stay warm, he tells her. Find shelter, he reminds her. Conserve your energy, he advises her.

Rest, he says, rest and keep fighting to get home—back to those you love.

She doesn’t ask him how he knows she has loved ones, people she desperately wants to get back to. She merely listens without complaint, obeying thoughtlessly to his suggestions, and lets her mind go blank.

“Are you real?” she asks him after what feels like several days, but could have been weeks or months or years.

Her hallucination never comes too close to her, but he smiles her father’s smiles and that’s enough for her. “The Phantoms lie, Kara,” he says softly, his voice lulling her to sleep. “Don’t forget this.”

///

Everything aches. Each step takes energy she just doesn’t have. It’s as though all the weight she’s always carried, all the grief and pain and regret, has finally become too much, sapping her of everything she has left.

She buckles under the burden, but before she can fall, she feels a strong grip around her arm, dragging her up back to her feet.

“You must keep going,” her father’s ghost tells her, his eyes sad, no warmth from where his fingers are closed around her arm. “This is not where you fall.”

“But it can be,” Kara murmurs hopelessly. And it occurs to her, she’s not quite sure what she’s still fighting for.

A sister who she overshadowed and whose family she ripped apart? Friends who were terrified of her and what was capable of? And Lena—Lena, who Kara has loved from the day they met, but who she has hurt so completely that the CEO will never be the same?

(Kara has been okay with dying for a long time. Okay with dying in her pod. Okay with dying to save Earth. Okay with dying to protect those she loves.

And here now, she’s okay with dying with her father’s ghost—finally, finally joining him.)

“The Phantoms lie, Kara,” the fake Zor El says firmly, forcing her to take another step. “You must remember this. The Phantoms lie, and you must live.”

She stares up at him blankly, and obeys. She takes one step. Then another.

Another.

Another.

And on and on.

She keeps going.

///

Time passes. She’s not sure how much. But her apparition father no longer walks a distance away from her. Instead, he practically holds her up as they keep going, his repeated promises than she can do this all she can really hear.

“I wish…” Kara manages weakly. “I wish you were real.”

Her ghost father chuckles, clearly hearing what she can’t say. (I wish I were with you. I wish I wasn’t alone. I wish, I wish.) “Ah, but I am real. I’m the best parts of you, daughter,” he says. “Resilience, strength, commitment…hope.” He says the last word with some force, as if needing her to understand. “You are good. You are kind. And you try, more than anything you try.”

“The Phantoms lie,” she reminds him quietly. He laughs again.

“Yes, but I am no Phantom.”

And they keep walking.

///

“I have hurt so many,” she says, half carried by the fake Zor El. “I cause nothing but damage and pain. Why would they even want me back? Lena especially?”

“I don’t believe love is as simple as you make it seem, Kara,” the fake Zor El says. Another step. And another. And on and on.

“Love? She hates me. I ruined her life. I lied. I betrayed her.”

“Sometimes we stumble,” the fake Zor El said gently. “Sometimes we fail. But as long as we learn, as long as we get up and try to do better, there is always hope.”

A step. And another. And on and on.

“I do, you know. Love her,” she adds when her fake father seems confused.

He smiles brightly at her, and it’s nice. Even though he’s not real. Even though she’s only partially sure she’s not dead and this isn’t all in her head, even though he’s at best a hallucination and at worst a trick of the Phantoms, it’s nice. Because she’d never thought she’d have the opportunity to tell her father about the woman she has fallen for—the scientist like him, the innovator like him. The woman who made her feel more at home, more like herself, than anyone else.

“Hold onto that love, Kara,” he says, helping her take another step. “If there’s one thing the Phantoms cannot destroy, it is your love.”

She nods, though she doesn’t quite understand. And they keep going.

///

She knows she’s reaching her limit physically. There’s only so much even she can endure. Between the cold, the bone deep weariness, the ache settling in her chest, and the energy sapped from her very being, she’s running on no more than fumes.

She tells herself it’s just one more step. Just one more.

Just.

One.

…more.

“Father, are you—” She stops.

She’s completely alone. The ghost is gone.

Kara trembles, choking not only on the dusty, frozen air, but on her despair. All she wants, all she wants is to stop.

To fall to the gravelly dirt.

To curl up.

To give up…

“Kara!”

(She falls to her knees. The Phantoms lie, she thinks. But what a mercy, what a kindness, she’s going to die with her name on Lena’s lips.)

“Kara! Brainy, we found her. Alex, you’d best come quick.”

(The words make no sense. The Phantoms lie. They lie. They lie, lie, lie.

She looks up, and an angel stands before her. Lena, with wide, desperate eyes. Lena, with hair in a messy ponytail. Lena, in dusty, dirty clothes.

Oh, she’s a sight. She’s an angel. She’s everything.)

“Kara? Kara, we’re here. We’re going to take you home.”

(The Phantoms…have never lied like this.)

“Lena?” Kara manages shakily, unsure if she’s dreaming, hallucinating, dead even. “Are you real?”

Lena doesn’t answer, instead she rushes forward, falls to her knees too, and pulls Kara into a hug. She envelopes Kara in her scent—sweet and flowery—envelopes Kara in her warmth. Her heartbeat is strong against Kara’s chest.

She’s so alive. So present. So very real.

“Lena, my father, he…” But she doesn’t finish what she wants to say. After days, months, weeks, years (she doesn’t know, she can’t tell) of being lost in the Phantom Zone, her body finally caves under the weight of everything she’s gone through.

And she lets go. Falls into Lena. Lets herself be supported. Her eyes close, she breathes in Lena’s scent, and she thinks, even if this is just a lie, just a dream, it’s a good one.

And she knows no more.

///

When she wakes, her first thought is that she’s still dreaming. That the Phantoms lie, and that their lies are growing more and more impressive.

She’s laying underneath a sun lamp, nestled comfortably in her own bedroom, wearing soft pajamas and enveloped in her favorite blankets. There’s gentle music playing from somewhere in the living room, but otherwise that’s all she hears.

(The silence is eerie, disconcerting. She’s unused to such quiet, always assaulted by thousands upon thousands of sounds each and every moment. What a blessing, she thinks wryly, that the Phantoms would lie to her this way—would give her this much peace after so much pain.

And she wonders if this is what dying feels like.)

“Kara,” says her angel suddenly, and Kara turns her head, noticing for the first time that there’s a chair set up next to her bed, that Lena is there, watching her. “I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“Am I dead?” Kara asks. Lena’s eyes widen but she shakes her head. “Are you…are you real? Is any of this real?”

Lena slowly reaches out, giving Kara every chance to say no, to pull away, and she takes Kara’s hand into her own, threading their fingers together.

(She’s warm. Soft. And her touch stirs something inside Kara.

It’s familiar. Hers. Something lost in the Phantom Zone.

Or at least, something she thought she had lost.)

“I’m real, Kara,” Lena says. “We all are. And we’re here for you okay?”

“You found me?” Kara asks, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “You came for me?”

“Always,” Lena swears.

(The Phantoms lied.

But love, love she thinks always tells the truth.)

[discopaddock]

TWO BROKEN HEARTS - SEBASTIAN VETTEL

PAIRING: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

GENRE: angst!! angst!! angst!!

WORDS: 814

WARNING: seb is griefing, fights, mentions of death, both reader and seb are heartbroken, vomiting.

“What the fuck you mean saying Y/N is huffed at you?” Daniel asked as he was looking at his best friend, who was making tea.

“I might have said something-” Sebastian started with a tired voice.

“What the fuck you said to her?” Ricciardo quickly interrupted him. He knew it obviously because the girl called him two days ago as she was going home from Seb's, crying because of their fight.

Daniel wanted to know what Vettel would say to him, because he knew that Y/N wasn't lying when she called him.

“I told her to fuck off and that she's obtruding and I don't want to see her” he wasn't lying, that was the same words as he had heard from Y/N. “I didn't want her to cry, these were emotions,'' the man added, which made his guest raise a brow.

“These were emotions, yeah, sure,” Daniel said with a sarcastic tone. He was pissed off. Two of his best friends were fighting and all of these were Sebastian's fault, which he didn't want to admit. “Seb, it's been a year. Fucking year, you should start a new chapter. None will ever bring Alya back to life” the Aussie said, looking deep into his friends eyes.

Vettel didn't want to admit that fact. He still hoped that someday, when he would be back after the training, he would find his girlfriend sitting on the couch and waiting for him.

But it would never happen because she was dead.

“Seb, you can't stay in this house for the rest of your life, you have to win the championship! Losing the love of your life is hard, I get. But you can't repel everyone that wants to help you. Y/N wants to help, for fucks sake she's wondering now what has she done wrong that you said these things to her! We want to help you, but you don't want our help, because you think that she's gonna be back, when she won't. Understand this, Seb. She's dead, nobody will bring her back to life and you have to start living again. If you don't, you will be alone” Daniel said with a serious look.

These words made Vettel think about previous years.

Maybe Daniel was right saying that? Even Lewis had told him to move on.

So he started moving on.

But he wasn't expecting that on the second night of his moving on he would get a call from drunk Y/N at some 3 a.m.

“You're such a dick Sebastian Vettel,” the girl said for the fifth time that night, when the man was going after her to the club. “And I am that stupid that I fell in love with you” she added after a while of silence from her side.

Seb had no idea what to say.

“I know, I know, Alya just died but that's how love works – you never know when it will come to you” Y/N laughed after that sentence but it wasn't a laugh of happiness, more like of grief.

After like five minutes of driving, German found her sitting in front of the club on the stone flooring.

“Come on, I'm taking you home” he said, as he stood in front of her with his outstretched hand. The girl looked at him for a moment but didn't stand up. He had to beg her to go with.

Well drunk L/N was moody and in one moment she could say that she loves somebody and at the next that she hates them.

“Oh dear” Sebastian said as they were finally at his place and Y/N was vomiting into the sink in the kitchen. “Come on, I'll take you to the bathroom” he said, grabbing her by her shoulder. They went to the room and just after the man opened the toilet seat, the girl started throwing up again. “I'll bring you the hairband, don't go anywhere” he announced and went to the kitchen to find a rubber band. When he found it, he hurriedly came back to the bathroom to see his friend with tears running down her face because of vomiting.

German tied up the her hair and next handed her toilet paper to wash up her tears.

“I think it's over” L/N announced and with the blonde man's hand she stood up.

“Change your clothes, I'll go for the bucket for you” he said and went out of his bedroom. Y/N opened his wardrobe and got dressed in his green hoodie, black shorts and white socks, which were like overknee socks on her.

Seb came back with the bucket and smiled a little as he saw the girl, who was folding her clothes onto a chair.

The man dragged her into bed and lay down beside her.

“You sure you won't vomit anymore?” he asked, looking at his friend, who only mumbled that she wouldn't.

masterlist

[i-cant-sing]

Everyone asking about the Royal Gay au meanwhile I'm just gremlining in the corner waiting for anything related to Re8:TRP bc I don wanna ask about it and potentially annoy you

Hmm, okay I've got a particular scenario in my mind:

Okay, imagine post re8, when Ethan forgot about saving reader, died, then came back to life with realisation that he forgot about you, so he "saves" you but you're too pissed at him (rightfully) and tell him that as soon you get out of the village, you're moving out because you can't be around him and Mia since Rose will always be a priority for them and you can't risk losing more of your sanity and self respect.

To which Ethan says "Oh... request denied😃" and then proceeds to kidnap you and take you home, where Mia has started to realise how important you are to the smooth functioning of this dysfunctional family and agrees with Ethan about keeping you locked up in your room.

They both think that you're just acting this way because you're "a little jealous" of the attention they've been giving to Rose. And you're being "totally unreasonable" because Rose is a baby, she needs them more than you do.

It never even occurs to them that you hate them because of all the abuse they've subjected you to all these years.

They don't understand why you're being so rebellious right now? Throwing away the food they cook for you, refusing to eat anything, screaming at them to let you go, trying to break the chains around your feet.

When will this "phase" of yours end?

Mia thinks it'd be rather better if they gave you silent treatment and ignored you and your basic human needs- yeah, that'll teach you to not bite the hand that feeds you.

Ethan on the other hand, doesn't agree with that (mostly because he's incapable of ignoring you now that he's become a yandere). He thinks you just need to remember all the good times. So he goes to the store to look through some very old boxes to find your old journals. He remembers seeing you writing in them as a kid, and if memory serves him right, you still used to write in them.

Pulling out the dusty old box with your name on it, he picked out a journal and began flipping through them.

-

Hours later, Mia entered the house, only to find Ethan in the store room, absolutely bawling his eyes out.

"Ethan? Hun? What's wrong? Is Rose okay?" Mia asked, immeadiately crouching down to hold him.

Ethan just hugged hia wife, crying into her shoulder. "S-she hates us, Mia."

"What?"

"She hates us! Y/n hates us!" Ethan cried out, pointing at all the journals. Picking one up, Mia began reading them.

I hate mom. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her. I hate her-

The words continued for several pages, before moving onto Ethan.

Dad- I never thought I'd hate him, but I hate him even more than mom. How could he- how could he ignore my croes for help? Am I that unimportant to them? Or just unlovable?

I hate dad, I hate him so much.

I wish he was dead. Wish they were both dead.

Mia's mouth fell open, completely in disbelief that you would say something like that. And more than one time. In fact, several of your notebooks were just filled with words of hatred for your parents.

Ethan went out for a walk, telling Mia he just cant be around all of this right now, asking her to get rid of all the journals for him. Mia just nods, her mind somewhere else.

-

While Ethan is taking a walk in the park, wondering how to change your mind about him and Mia, his wife has decided to take a different strategy to make you regret those words.

Currently, your head is being held under water as Mia flushed the toilet bowl once again.

You gasped for her air as she yanked your head up again. "You un-fucking-grateful brat! How fucking dare you wish death upon your own parents?! I'm gonna make you wish you were dead-!" She screamed as she pushed your head back in the water.

"MIA!" Ethan yelled, pulling his wife off you, as you came up, coughing up the water that got in your lungs. "What the fuck?!"

-

You're wrapped up in a towel, sitting in your room, a chain still around your foot, as you hear Ethan and Mia arguing downstairs.

Arguing over their "parental strategies" for you.

Arguing over you.

You smiled a little. You never imagined they'd ever take the time to argue or even talk about you.

And all it took was your sanity.

I just know this how they be arguing:

Mia: What the hell, Ethan?! You said you wanted to try the "good cop. Bad cop."thing!

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan:

Mia:

Ethan: YEAH! "GOOD COP- BAD COP" NOT "GOOD COP-HOMICIDAL COP" MIA!

Mia, voice breaking because no.1 manipulator: wow, I can't believe you're saying I'm the "bad cop". Is that what you think of me?

[starlightshadowsworld]

Percy hates the Mars on sight but he's suprised to see he's not the only one.

The Romans straight up ignore him until he starts throwing a tantrum. And Octavian meets his gaze, cooly and says "well you're a bit late for that aren't you soilder?"

"What?"

"The battle" Said Octavian dryly. "You're late. 6 months in fact, but hey you at least showed up this time. So I suppose that's something."

There's laughter around the table and Percy wonders if he misjudged Octavian. "You are to do this quest for me, at once." Demands Mars.

Octavian smirks "I'm afraid I'll have to consult my superior. I am just a lowly Augur of course." He looks over at Reyna, eyes gleaming with mirth.

"What do you say? Praetor Ramirez Arellano of the 1st cohort and co-leader of the 12th Leigion Fulmimata." It doesn't escape anyone that Octavian calls Reyna by her full title with a level of respect he hadn't shown Mars at all.

"Denied." Says Reyna swiftly, a coldness in her eyes but Percy can tell she's fighting a grin. Octavian does grin, much like a Cheshire cat and turns to a seething Mars.

"There you have it, my hands are tied. Oh well come and try again next week."

Mars ignores him, his gaze on Reyna. Reyna meets his look without so much as flinching, she's the picture of relaxed and calm.

"You're orders do not succeed mine, Praetor."

"Why? Who died and made you consul?" Says Reyna, Octavian snorts as Dakota quietly explains the joke to Percy. Percy grins, oh he's going to love this.

"That would be him, Praetor." Remarks Dakota with a grim smile. "Ah, you're right my mistake." Says Reyna, she shakes her head and stands up.

As she does several soilders soo too, drawing their weapons and looking at Mars with cooled rage.

If he makes a move to hurt Reyna, they'd attack without hesitation.

"We will consider your request, if you give us a council with Jupiter."

Percy looked at Dakota, confused. "He's the King and Mars dad" he supplied, helpfully. Dakota looks down, angry "he's also Jason's dad."

Just the mention of his name put a frown on everyone's face, sadness in their eyes ignited with greif. Even Reyna wavered when she hadn't before, and Octavian blinked back tears.

Jason Grace meant everything to them.

Reyna's determination only grew. "I don't know what you've done to him. But I know you're all responsible, Jason was here one moment and gone the next. Our search parties keep going circles, and we know someone up there is interfering."

Reyna looks around and than at Mars and says defiantly. "I want Jason returned, or I will consider this an invitation to war."

Mars laughed.

"You? You dare to think you can face us?"

Reyna smiles, it is not kind. "Krios, younger brother of Kronos and one of the first original titans said the same thing. And Jason Grace, a mere demigod said if we both shall fall, I'll make sure you die first."

Everyone cheers, remembering that moment while Mars goes pale.

"Jason still lives while Krios is down in Tartarus. And you.. You took him from us, you forced us to fight alone in a battle that decimated our numbers."

Octavian puts a hand on her shoulder, noticing her voice tremble with rage. She takes a deep breath, a thankful look to one of her oldest friends.

Before taking a deep breathe.

"If he's not returned, I will fight Jupiter myself for his return."

And Percy didn't even need to look to know every demigod around them agreed with Reyna wholeheartedly.

And the way this was going, Percy would help.

[x-bluefire-heart-x]

Covered in Steam

I am back with a Thorin x female reader smut fic! I hope you guys enjoy it. This is my second Thorin fic but I think Tumblr hid my other one, so if you feel like reading an angsty but fluffy Thorin imagine head over to my master list which is tagged below.  Also feel free to check out my prompt list and feel free to request a fic!

Warnings: Sexual content,

Also any and all mistakes are mine.

Master List

Prompt List

Dance at a Feast

Even when you had been in Erebor for nearly a year you couldn’t get over how large the baths were. You had been given your own suit in the Royal Wing, a room that connected onto Thorin’s. Your Husband. It was an arranged marriage purely for the benefit of your kingdom and Erebor. Thorin already had his heirs in his nephews, so there was no need to worry about the fact that you were not a dwarf. Though some of the older dwarves had an issue with the Queen of Erebor being an outsider but the prosperity that had arrived at Erebor during its reconstruction had quietened them for the most part.

You couldn’t deny that you were hateful of the marriage at first, being forced to marry a stranger and leave your home. But after seeing Erebor and meeting Thorin and his family you slowly started to enjoy your time here and knew that you could have a life here, eventually. You hadn’t really had much interaction with Thorin outside of the formal requirements during banquets and visits from dignitaries. He had been courteous during those times and never made you feel like a nuisance but you still wished he would spend some more time with you outside the banquets. You couldn’t deny that you found the dwarf king attractive, with his commanding presence and those brilliant blue eyes, that made you feel as if you were drowning in them every time he looked at you. His very presence could some times make you weak at the knees, the way in which he commanded any room he entered affected you in a way you couldn’t explain and was not something you were expecting to happen.

You leant back against the edge of the bath lifting your leg up and watching the water run down it, the droplets creating ripples in the water. You sighed bringing your leg back into the water and leant your head back looking up to the ceiling, the light from the numerous candles reflecting back at you. You wondered if maybe you should make a move on the king. You knew that some male dwarves rather liked women who were fierce and take charge. Perhaps you could ask Thorin’s sister Dis for her advice, the two of you had gotten close. She had taken you under her wing when you arrived, helping you to navigate dwarven culture and the city itself. The two of you had truly became sisters, a thing you were grateful for as you had only had an older brother back home, with a rather large gap between your ages. He was already off with the other warriors in your father’s army, when you had been born. You would forever be grateful for Dis, and hoped that asking her for help with her brother wouldn’t make her uncomfortable.

Lost in thought as you where you hadn’t noticed when the door on the other side of the bathroom opened. The door leading to Thorin’s chambers. Thorin walked through the door only to pause upon seeing you, he hadn’t expected you to still be awake at this hour. He had been kept awake in his study dealing diplomatic issues with Balin and Ori and all he had wanted to do upon retiring was take a nice long, hot bath before sleeping. He knew he should leave or announce his presence but he found he was frozen, the firelight around you was giving you an almost golden glow and he found his breath was caught in his throat. When he had agreed upon the marriage with you, he never thought you would be anything more then maybe a friend eventually, though he hadn’t been able to give you as much attention as he had hoped. But once he met you, he found himself slowly falling for you, with your shy smile that lit up the room. You were unbelievably kind to everyone and although you were the Queen of Erebor you would offer Bombur your assistance in the kitchens before a feast and you would help Ori in the library.

Thorin’s eyes took in their fill of your nakedness, and found himself stirring. A fire building in his veins as the water lapped at your breasts, you were sitting on one of the seats along the edge of the bath, the water only just coming up to the bottom of them, your nipples hard as the air in the room chilled your heated skin from the water. He was suddenly even more sorry that he hadn’t taken more time to get to know his wife, he planned on properly courting you but didn’t know how to go about it. If you had been a dwarf, it would have been easier but had tried to find something that discussed your peoples courting customs but not even Ori and Balin were able to locate such a book.

“Your Majesty!” you voice pulled him out of his thoughts, as well as the sound of splashing water as you ducked further under the water covering yourself. Your face was red, like a ruby and Thorin found himself blushing and looking away quickly.

“My apologises, My Lady,” Thorin said. “I was unaware that you were still awake. I shall leave you to your privacy.”

“No, wait!” you stood up. This was the moment you were waiting for. You had been surprised to see Thorin but you had noticed how he was staring at you. His blue eyes almost were hungry, as they traced the parts of your body that were visible above the water. Thorin paused, half turned back towards his chambers.

“Yes?” Thorin, tried very hard to not look anywhere but your face when he turned to face you again.

“Um, join me?” you asked, trying to be brave, but your voice was soft and shy. “The bath is big enough for the both of us and we are married, I don’t see why we cannot share a bath…husband.”

“Are you sure?” Thorin asked, wanting to make sure you truly wanted this. His heart jumped at the thought of joining you. Dwarven couples often shared baths together, it was an incredibly intimate thing.

“Yes, I am very sure,” you responded. Thorin smiled, as he walked forward dropping the towel that had been wrapped around his waist.

“Well, who am I to deny my wife, my Queen,” he grinned.

You allowed your eyes to travel down, his strong chest, that was coated in dark hair, his stomach was strong and soft. Your eyes continued their path following the trail of hair that led down to his cock. It was slowly hardening, as he allowed his eyes to finally take their fill of your body. You giggled shily as Thorin stepped down into the water and made his way towards you. He stopped within arm’s length.  

“I should apologise to my Lady, we have been married for a year and I have not given you the attention you deserve,” Thorin’s grin had softened, and his blue eyes still hungry but they still held a little sorrow.

“Hmm, and I have not forced the issue my King,” you responded taking a step forward lifting your hand up lightly tracing his chest. “You are busy, your kingdom is recovering but perhaps we can start tonight.”

Thorin looked down at your touch, looking back up at you his smile turned devilish. He reached a hand out and lightly traced your cheek, down to your jaw before reaching trailing down your neck. He stepped forward bringing your bodies together. His hard cock pressing into you making you gasp at such a feeling. He hard chest pressed into your soft breasts, the sensation from his chest hair rubbing against your nipples caused your gasp to turn into a soft moan. You had touched yourself in experimentation before but had never been able to elicit such a response. He used the hold he had on the nape of your neck and pulled your head towards his as he lowered his head down to kiss you. The first touch was gentle, just a press of lips before he pulled away. Your eyes met, and you knew your eyes hard darkened as much as his. You smiled, a soft giggle leaving your lips.

“And what may I ask what is causing such a response?” Thorin asked, a joy he hadn’t felt in an age swelling up inside of him at your own happiness. It was in that moment that he decided he would do everything in his power to ensure you felt such happiness every day.

“That was my first kiss,” you breathed bringing a hand up and lightly tracing his lips and then your own.

“Your first?” Thorin asked, his hands found their place on your hips in a gently way, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. “I shall endeavour to be gentle, and ensure that your first time is one to remember. As is deserving of my Queen.”

You grinned and brought your lips to meet his again. This time it lasted for longer than just a press of lips. There was hunger in the kiss, though his lips were soft and gentle against yours, it was like he was trying to devour your very essences. Thorin’s hands stroked down your thighs, gripping as they went, they came back up and stopped at your arse, he squeezed at your ample cheeks. You moaned into the kiss as he rocked into you causing his cock to rub against you. Your hands threaded into his thick black hair, pulling at it lightly as he nipped your lips, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. Your breath was coming out in quick succession and you noticed that his was as well, you looked down at his lips and decided they weren’t swollen enough. You lent up and tugged his bottom lip between your teeth, in a mimicry of what he had just down with you.

“Cheeky, my Queen,” Thorin groaned leaning his head down dragging his nose down your throat to where it met your shoulder. He paused there. His teeth scrapped along the joining, you moaned, your hands gripped his hair tighter and your body rocked into his. “Hm, no much to low there.”

“What is?” you asked breathlessly.

“The mark I intend to give you, I want it to be visible,” Thorin growled, his lips trailing up your throat and pausing about an inch above where it was before.

“Perfect.”

Thorin went to work on making his mark. His teeth grazed the area before latching his mouth onto it and alternating between sucking and nipping at the area. His hands continued to squeeze at your cheeks, and stroking down your thighs. He detached his mouth from your throat, happy with the results of his work.

“Happy my King?” you asked leaning back in his grip. “Will everyone who looks at it know what we have done tonight?”

“Hmm, yes, though I plan on making it even more obvious,” Thorin said, his voice gravelling and deep. “After tonight I think you’ll find you won’t be able to walk straight, my Lady.”

Thorin used the grip be had on your thighs to pick you up. You giggled and wrapped your legs around his waist, the position put your slit right over his hard cock, you rolled your hips down, grinding yourself against his cock, feeling the tip of it slip in and out. Thorin’s grip tensed at your motion, his grip hard enough to leave bruises in the morning, and the thought of that made you moan loudly. Thorin walked out of the bath and towards the open doorway to his chamber. He walked to the bed and instead of placing you on it or even throwing you onto it, he kept a hold of you and kneeled on the bed, he let go of one of your thighs and crawled towards the head of the bed before letting gently placing you on the bed.

Thorin held his body above yours, hands on either side of your head and stared at you sprawled on his bed. The image that has been plaguing his mind since the wedding. It was even better than anything his mind could conjure up. The fact that you were still wet from the bath made it even better, the light from the candles made your skin glisten. Thorin kissed the mark he had made on your throat before making his was down to the joint and further to the top of your left breast, leaving kisses in his wake. He kissed around your nipple, his hand coming up to massage and knead at your right breast. He took the hardened nipple into his mouth sucking and licking at it.

“Thorin!” you gasped, one hand grabbing and twisting the sheets in pleasure, the other hand clawed at Thorin’s shoulder your blunt nails leaving red marks.

As Thorin continued his assault on your breasts, his hips gentle rolled into yours, creating a lovely electric friction against your vagina. Your clit throbbed in pleasure as it started to swell. Thorin’s mouth left your nipple and he went to move to the next but you decided on a different direction instead. You used the grip your legs had on him and took hold of both his shoulders, using his distraction you threw your weight up and to the side rolling the two of you over. Thorin looked up at you in surprise, at the look of triumph on your face he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well, that was unexpected my love,” Thorin chuckled. “Now that you have me what do you plan on doing?”

“Take charge,” you smirked leaning down and kissing the tip of his nose. “You had a late night, lay back and relax. Let your wife attend to you.”

“Only if I can attend to you after, for a king and a husband can not allow their other half without-” Thorin’s sentence was cut off with a deep moan as you decided to skip any teasing and took the head of his cock into your mouth. “Aule!”

You had no idea what you were doing, you listened to the noises Thorin made and repeated any motions that caused his breath to hitch, caused him to moan or groan. You focused around the head, licking and sucking making sure to pay attention to the vein on the under side of his cock. You didn’t think you could handle taking much of it into your mouth, not on your first time. You used your hands to stroke the rest of the length. Thorin’s hand gently twisted into your hair, tugging on it before massaging your head.

“I am close my love, if you don’t-” you ignored his warning sucking harder and stroking your hands faster. You tried licking the slit at the top of his dick, interested in his reaction. His thighs tensed as his hips thrusted upwards pushing his dick a little further into your mouth as his release filled it. You quickly swallowed what you could before pulling away, you felt some of his semen splash onto your face before you moved completely away. You wiped at the semen your face as it scrunched up at the feeling. Thorin was heaving as he came down from his high and saw you. His dick twitched, already feeling the stirrings again at the sight of your cheeks red and white from his semen.

“You are a sight,” Thorin breathed. “A beautiful, alluring sight. A treasure greater than any in the treasury of Erebor.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, puzzled at his reaction.

“Just that, my Queen, nothing more,” Thorin sat up, he wiped the remains of his release off your face with his fingers before wiping his hand on the bedding, he wrapped you up in his arms afterwards. He kissed you deeply, aroused even more from the taste of himself in your mouth. “Now, it is your turn to lay back and allow me to attend to you.”

Thorin’s voice was like gravel, deep within his chest. He laid you back on the bed, kissing his way down your chest and stomach, occasionally allowing his teeth to graze the skin. He paused briefly at your breasts to lap at the nipples with his tongue. You moaned and withered underneath him, your hands clutching at his back again, leaving red marks from your nails. He kissed his way down to your hip bones, biting and sucking at the skin, causing more marks to raise in his wake. He licked down the crease from your hip, down your thigh along the outside of your wet opening, before switching to the other side and licking up the crease to the hip bone and making a matching mark there.

“Thorin please!” you begged as he kissed and licked around the top of your thighs getting close to where you truly wanted him but not yet giving it attention. You felt as though your body was tingling with pleasure, as he seemed to be trying to mark your entire thighs. His hands were running up and down your sides, running under your breasts and occasionally tweaking your nipples causing a flash of pleasure to move down to the warmth growing in the pit of your stomach.

“What does my treasure desire?” Thorin asked looking up from his task. “Is it my tongue you wish for?”

“Yes!” you gasped as he blew air down onto your hot centre.

“But you have my tongue,” Thorin mused, his eyes alight with mischievous as his large hands moved to grip under your thighs holding them up and apart to allow him to settle fully in-between them. “Ah, perhaps you want my tongue elsewhere? Yes, I think that is what my lovely wife desires. My tongue inside her, and my mouth thoroughly devouring her as if you were my last meal?”

“My king, please,” you breathed. “You said you would attend to me.”

“I did, and I never go back on my word.”

You gasped loudly at the first swipe of Thorin’s tongue as he licked the full length of your slit collecting the wetness that had gathered there. He spied your swollen clit and looked up at you grinning wickedly before he lightly bit at it. You bucked in his grip at the electric jolt of pleasure that surged through you. His hands held your hips down, not allowing them even the smallest movement. He was in complete control here. Maybe after tonight, he could discuss some of his other desires and pleasures that he wished to make reality with you. Thorin took your clit into his mouth sucking gentle and bathing it with his tongue. You withered in his grip body tingling with pleasure, you could feel heat build-up behind your stomach. You had never felt anything like this. Your hands were gripping his hair tightly, pulling on it in your pleasure, you vaguely remembered something about hair being important to dwarves but in your pleasure, you could only think of more. More of him. More of his tongue, his touch. Just more.

Thorin released your clit, deciding he needed to taste more of your essence, and the only way he could do that was by going straight to the source. He moved down and licked around your opening before dipping in briefly, licking around the edge and withdrawing. He could feel your hands holding onto his hair like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. He loved the feeling of it, and in the morning, he would ask you to braid his hair. He wiggled his tongue in deeper, stroking his tongue along your walls, he could feel them twitching and tightening down around the muscle. He pulled out licking around his mouth to catch some of the essence that was in his beard.

“If I were to die tonight, I would be a very happy dwarf with this as my last meal,” Thorin grinned.

“You had better not die tonight,” you gasped. “I only just got you.”

“And you shall have me for all of eternity,” Thorin promised.

He moved back down, before he had been gentle, this time he acted as though he was a starving dwarf and he devoured you. You withered on his tongue, rolling your hips the smallest movement he allowed. He released one of your hips moving his fingers to play with your clit. Moving in a circle one way and then back the other, he flicked and stroked it. You felt the warmth in your core getting hotter and hotter. Your walls clenched more as your thighs started to tense and shake. Your breath was leaving your lungs in loud moans and gasps. With one press and flick of your clit, and strong stroke of his tongue along your walls, the dam burst and your vision went white, as your orgasm washed over you in waves. Thorin removed his mouth from your opening but continued to tease your clit through your orgasm. You arched off of the bed in your bliss. You had removed your hands from his hair and grabbed at the sheets when you felt it building stronger, you tugged at the sheets as the waves of orgasm slowed and your vision returned to you. Thorin smiled kissing your thigh and giving one last swipe of your clit before leaving it alone. He let go of your thighs, moving up the bed to hover over you again. He copied what you had done before and kissed your nose, moving to kiss both of your cheeks. You smiled up at him, still high from the pleasure he brought to you.

“My love, I wish for you to never leave my arms again,” he begged. You lazily wrapped your arms around his strong broad shoulders.

“I never will,” you smiled pushing down on his shoulders. Thorin grinned slowly lowering his body onto yours. “Now, please. Take me fully.”

[findmeabowloftrash-blog]

okay so. I am very very recently into The Property of Hate. I am caught up, and rereading bits and parts, while attempting to find blogs that still actively talk about/post about it. I'm quite new, so there's a good chance I have just missed it, but these are some things I have noticed/wondered that I haven't seen talked about.

1) Theory: The eyes on (the top half of) the butterfly's wings are RGB's eyes. Reasoning: In "Iris," on pages 455 and 456, we see the butterfly glare at RGB while asking if he cares who they (the butterfly) once was, and he says no. It then cuts him, and we get a brief flashback of, presumably, human RGB telling someone (whoever the butterfly used to be? Or his reflection, perhaps?) that he hates them, with the same glare. This is also, I believe, the only time we ever see his eyes in a flashback. Further, the butterfly is widely believed to be Hate, and it would make sense that his own hatred (of this other person? of himself?) is what "blinded" him. ESPECIALLY if it blinded him to his own potential. More on that later.

2) Observation: Negative seems to wear actual spats, as opposed to having them be part of his shoes. Relevance: Mod once said in answer to an ask about RGB's suspenders that nothing about him is genuine, it's only meant to appear that way, and cited his not-actually-spats as one example. If Negative does indeed wear real spats, does that make at least part of him more "genuine" than RGB?

3) Theory(?): Negative means no harm to Hero, and in fact cares a great deal about her. Reasoning: He's clearly intelligent, not just violent toward whatever is closest, because in his first appearance he protects Hero, rather than going after her himself. If the Fears were no match for him, why waste time fighting them if he wanted to hurt her? She would have been the weakest target, not the Fears. Then, in the desert, after creating the giant rose to protect himself and Hero, once he looks up and notices her, the eye on his screen looks teary, like it's watering up. (Pg 355) And wouldn't you cry if a child you wanted to protect came back into a deadly storm for you? In addition, I saw a post somewhere reasoning that the House of Lead belongs to Negative, and in that post the OP theorized that Negative wanted Hero to tell RGB about him. If he were antagonistic, or had literally any ill will toward Hero, that wouldn't make any sense.

Miscellaneous thoughts and rambling:

RGB calls himself "an unreliable narrator at best" during the same conversation/monologue/story he says that he is a failure, that the only thing he ever does is fail. ("After all, I died, didn't I?" -pg 472) And it seems that way, based on his history with heroes, sure. He fails pretty much all of his goals in the story (even ones like "don't get attached"). But if we go based on a number of meta things, we can easily reason that that isn't true, and he is, in fact, an unreliable narrator of his own life. For one, he was almost certainly an actor or entertainer of some sort. That in and of itself is a form of success. But beyond that, we have Mod's "The Face of Television" art, which implies he was VERY successful. There is also the "I was in Brooklyn when I found out" art of Dial looking at obituaries in the newspaper. Why would the obituary of a failed British actor be in an American newspaper? He had to have been someone well-known. Finally, on page 433, all the way to the left, among the static, you can see, "-reaking news tonight --as famed --tertainer". All of this heavily points toward RGB being, not a failure, but instead highly successful when he was human. Rather, I think the "failure" part comes from how he viewed himself. Unable to look in the mirror, to stand himself at all, to think of himself as anything more than a projection-- empty, hollow. And isn't that exactly how he ended up? I think that he played into Hate's hand because he did, in fact, have hatred-- but it wasn't the kind she could use against others directly, because he doesn't hate others; He hates himself. He hates himself so strongly that, even after selling his memories, he still truly believes that he is, at his very core, a failure.

Maybe Negative is the part of him that believes in himself??

Also:

I never see anyone talk about the recurring shapes/symbols in RGB's flashbacks/dreams. I'm mentally calling them: Box (or possibly Casket), Hands, Iron, Teardrop, Rectangles. They appear on pages 335 and 456, at least. Possibly others. Really really curious what they represent.

Anyway I'm sure I'm missing a lot of well-known fandom stuff but. I just needed to put my thoughts together and dump them into a public space.

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— THE LOVE LETTER COLLECTION: PART TWO

SUMMARY : being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. the soft version.

PAIRING : dean winchester x dreamwalker!reader (f.) x dean variants

CHARACTERS : just a bunch of dean variants

WARNINGS/TAGS : talk about the barn scene, angst, fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.6k

A/N : this fills the hurt/comfort square on my @jacklesversebingo card. still written from Dean's perspective (I hope you feel loved by him, lmao) XX

The meeting was over and I was completely shocked by the news that bearded-Dean broke to us. He saved me. Doing that caused the destruction of his world and he went through with it anyway.

I remember that day clearly. I missed that damn metal thing about a dozen times that night and I wonder which time he interfered to get me to survive. He’s the reason I’m still here, and I'm partially pissed that he’s toying with my life, but if I were dead, what would that do to her? 

“So you could be happy with him,” he explained, almost sounding like a plea to get me to hear him out and not think the worst of him. It wouldn’t make sense for me to hate him, or treat him like he’s a villain. He did what I would do: sacrifice everything for her. The thought of everyone else that died in the timeline, like Sam, Donna, Jody, the girls… It hurts and now I understand why there is so much pain in his eyes. 

“You gave me up, too…” she murmured softly, looking up at him sadly. I start to realise now, he’s more me than anyone else here. He is literally me from the future. All my past with her, he has that. All that love, it’s still there. So are the memories and the things he could have had with her, but he gave that up so that I could have them and be alive at the same time. 

“You’re in there somewhere now,” he tried to lighten the mood with a faint smile. 

Standing on her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck. It was one of my favourite types of hugs from her. I didn’t complain this time, when he wrapped his arms around her quietly and buried his face into her neck. He hid himself, the way I always did, using her warm embrace. 

While he finds comfort in her arms, I observe everyone in the meeting room focusing on the files Ken-me brought in a cart. Occasionally, they’d look up with longing and sadness that was different from the look the soldiers had when they saw her. It was interesting. 

I did a quick count of everyone in the room. Twenty-six. That’s the same amount of versions of her he said he’d placed inside that rock. It couldn’t be. But it would make sense that the versions of me who were with a version of her are sitting here coming up with plans, leading different groups, focusing on different projects. 

If that guy is me, from a future that doesn’t exist anymore, he doesn’t belong anywhere but here. He made this place to keep her safe after getting her killed by saving me. Of course he’d place her lovers at a higher rank than the other me’s in this place who are merely soldiers, dreamers. It’s not that they’re less important, it’s that they haven’t had a chance to actually love her and that’s why it’s different. 

I only recognise two variants of myself in the room. The rich guy with that HunterCorp company and me from the Apocalypse world. I know for a fact that they had her as their girlfriend, too. Apocalypse-me lost her from an illness not related to the Croatoan virus and HunterCorp-me lost her on a hunt when a gorgon killed her.

The guy closest to me wore a red button up and a black t-shirt. He paused in the middle of his sentence to look at me with an indifferent look on his face. It’s weird looking at myself. He’s not much older than I am. The wrinkles by his eyes aren’t as noticeable as mine are now and I see something in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in a while. Something that sends a chill up my spine and makes me shudder.

“You have a question,” he states astutely. I laugh and nod, putting my hands on my hips as I watch the field scattered across the table. 

“So.. all of you, you’ve lost her… somehow?” The ones close enough to hear my question stop what they’re doing. They’re listening now, to me. I can see that they’re curious about my question.

“Yeah,” he confirmed, then lifted the sleeve of his arm to reveal the Mark of Cain. My heart stutters at the sight of the pinkish scar on his skin. “I killed her and Sam…” he reveals. My heart plummets to my stomach. That was one of my biggest fears once I’d been cured of being a demon. “This place suppresses the effects of the Mark, makes me feel almost normal.” His words put me at ease and I know he’s not lying because there’s no chance in hell I’d let someone like him in here if he were a danger to everyone. 

Standing here now, I start to connect a few pieces together. This whole place at the end of and the beginning of time being named the Monument while containing only variants of myself, variants who all will always only love her and have always only loved her. The steadfast belief that every single person here and outside of this room has that she is the only one for them… it’s like this place was built on a foundation of love primarily for her, and then it extends to love for everything else in existence. 

Older-me said so himself, he spends more of his time worrying about her, going as far as destroying his entire timeline so she could be happy with me. They all know, they all chose him to lead them, allow him to lead them, and live peacefully with each other because that’s what she’d want. This whole place is a declaration of love for her, our unending respect of what she believes in, our undying loyalty and commitment to her and her life alone. 

I watch her interact with them now that older-me has collected his wits. He’s not with her at the moment, he’s focused on a file, but he does look up at her every once in a while. I wonder what she said to him that’s making him keep looking at her and what he could be thinking of with every glance her way. 

I study her from across the room as she talks to them. Her face never changes when she talks to them. She’s surrounded by love here. I can see it on her face and it’s reflected in theirs, too. Their gratitude and the sudden peace that overcomes them fills the room. I can tell being near her heals a part of them that had been broken the moment she was lost to them forever. 

She’s immersed completely in them, there’s a lustre of adoration in her eyes, and she has the most tender smile when they explain or answer her questions. I’m amazed by their self-control, had she been giving me that look, I’d take her face in my hands and kiss her senseless. 

Suddenly, the thought of any one of them doing that didn’t make me sick with jealousy. They were more like me than I'd like to admit. Their devotion to her was admirable. I appreciate their respect for me by not making a single move on her and by not doing anything to make her uncomfortable. I hate to say they’ve earned my trust. 

She’s so beautiful as she listens to them intently. They’re like children getting attention from their doting mother, except that’s a weird analogy for this situation. I’m sure they want to kiss her, aching to touch her soft and warm skin, longing to hold her after not feeling her close to them for years—or who knows how long, really. 

I leave the group around me as they talk about the files and make my way to her. I’d think this place would be filled with toxicity and anger issues. Instead, we’re more concerned about the mission and hyper-focused on protecting what others still have across innumerable universes. They’re brought together by hope, grief, and love. All the things that make us who we are.

I know she’s smart enough to have figured all of this out, too, by now. 

As I get closer to her, I wonder what it’s like for her to know all this. What does she feel knowing she has all our hearts at the palm of her hand? Knowing her, she’s baffled, maybe a little confused as to why they’d make themselves so miserable waiting around in this giant, lonely monument dreaming of her rather than being out there actually living their lives with the ones they love. I’d imagine it would get boring in Heaven, I’d run out of that place and come here, too, if she weren’t there waiting for me. 

I circle my arm around her waist and give her a kiss on her cheek, which is hot and red. She laughs nervously at whatever the 1920’s variant of me said to her. I didn’t catch it, but she continues to laugh as she says, “you’re funny.” It’s in that ‘I don’t believe you, but whatever you say’ tone that makes me smile when I look down at her. 

“I’m serious,” he affirms, laughing along with her. She looks up at me, as if I’d be on her side, but I’m lost. I shrug at her with a light-hearted frown. “You’d be surprised by how easy it is for someone as damaged as us to be stuck on a breathtaking, unobtainable, dream-woman over any other hotsy-totsy lady that’s obtainable and real.” 

Now, I get it. I’d been with plenty of women in my past, women I cared for deeply and even truly loved at some point. As much as I respect and even admire them, none of them come close, none of those relationships compare to what I have with her. 

I’m not surprised to see she’s shocked. I'd be equally as bewildered as she is now if the situation were reversed. If the room was filled with variants of her, only in love with me, I wouldn’t be able to wrap my head around it. I’d be flattered and upset at the same time. 

She blushes harder, looks at me again, begging me to be the reasonable one in the group, but I shake my head apologetically. “Maybe you should shut up,” she floundered, crossing her arms over her chest and looking away from them. They laugh at the same time that I do and I can feel her shrink into herself, but a sheepish smile makes its way onto her face.

“Am I makin’ you blush?” He teases her with a boyish grin. She sighs---almost disappointedly---and moves out of my embrace, uncrossing her arms. She takes us in, all of us standing next to each other, and she looks devastated now; all playfulness leaves her. 

“I just… that can’t be true,” she says quietly, looking at them. “I want you all to be happy… out there.” They get serious, too, frowning at her disheartened tone. “You’ve all gone through so much… and to just end up here… alone. I don’t want that for you.” Silence falls over us and I feel a pang in my chest at her words. 

“Listen, I’m not saying the women we were interested in aren’t good enough. They’re great and amazing.” This time it’s Firefighter-me talking, but I’m more surprised than I should be that we all think the same. She looks at me, chewing on her lip thoughtfully. “Jo’s great, Cassie’s great, Lisa’s great… ya know, whoever else, but they deserve better, too. Dontcha think so?” He asks, trying to get her to be a little less daunted by their choices. Because they are theirs. They’re doing what they want and what they believe. It’s not like the older version of me left them choiceless. I know myself, no one’s taking my right to choose, no one’s trapping me that way—never again. 

“We shouldn’t waste their time either,” cowboy-me added. “It wouldn’t be sincere or fair to them because we would continue to love you the most.” She tilts her head to the side, her lip quivers, and we all know what’s going to happen. “You know, everytime we sleep, we dream of you. We see the life you have with your Dean. It’s all we want and it’s amazing to get to feel you and to get to live it, but when we wake up, we feel empty, disappointed… because you’re not ours, you’re not here, and we can’t feel you anymore. Your warmth is gone and you’re so far away from us, and I know you want more for us, but we just can’t be happy with someone who isn’t you.” He tried to reconcile her by bringing her in for a side-hug and a kiss on the forehead. She tried to hold back her tears with quiet sniffles, deep breaths, and by clenching her jaw. I don’t think it worked because she gave him a full hug, burying her face in his chest. “That life just wasn’t meant for us and we’re okay with it.” 

I wonder what it’s like for them to see her here in person. Is it of any comfort to them? Or does it just make them hurt more? To have her in their grasp and then have her gone again, but this time it’s her own choice to leave them. Does it hurt that she’s choosing someone else, me? Will being around her allow them to move on? 

If I were them, I’d be miserable seeing her with someone who isn’t me. There’s a dull ache in my chest that I almost believe is just an echo of what they must feel. Moving on may not be an option for them, considering that they willingly chose to work in a monument of the love they have for her. If she were here, I’d never be able to move on.

“We really appreciate that you two came,” older-me spoke, slightly causing them to break apart. He brought his hand to the top of her head and gave her a sad smile, an understanding look in his eyes. “We’ve got to focus and get to work now... We’ll see you around, the two of you.” 

“I’m sorry,” she says softly, but it sounded a lot like an ‘I love you’. She went to him and let herself be pulled into his embrace. He kissed her cheek, his lips lingered, and her eyes closed to bask in his affection. 

He pulled away from her and then made his way to me, allowing her to say goodbye to everyone else. “Alright, uh… listen,” he said quietly, stepping close so I could smell his cologne—smelled way better than mine, “Don’t be a dumbass and do something about that box you’ve got hidden away. ‘Cause if you don’t, I’m givin’ you nightmares. Okay? Okay.” He slapped my back and laughed as if trying to cover up our conversation.

“But what if she says no?” I ask, hating the insecurity in my voice. 

“The whole point of this place is that she’s always gonna say yes to us.” He doesn’t elaborate, he just walks away and leaves me to stew in that. I open my mouth and turn around to ask him what the hell he meant. I take in her gentleness when she’s talking to them, holding Firefighter-me’s face in her hands, and dropping a few loving kisses on his temple. 

Maybe I should stop overthinking things. Primarily because when it comes to her, I don’t have to think about or doubt anything. This isn’t something that’s being chosen for me, but being shown to me as an option of what I could have. 

➥ same book but never the same page

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[ageless-aislynn]

Aislynn's Absolute Screaming, Crying, Flailing Thinky Thoughts About Halo s2ep8

Under the cut since its the finale and I don't want to be That Person who spoils a finale for anybody if I can help it 💖

First thing: KAI, my baby, noooooooooo

Okay, do I love the Halo games? So much. So, so much. Did I know what actually adapting them would mean would happen in the live action show, especially since s2 clearly wanted to pull closer to the games? Yep.

Did I want to see characters I've come to love, appreciate or love to hate get infected by the Flood? HECK NO.

However, the fact that the Flood spores were much smaller than their game counterparts (Evil Cabbages with feet were my initial thought of them when I met them in Combat Evolved the first time 😂🤷‍♀️😉) was a definite win, IMO. Obviously they couldn't be germ-sized in game and you be able to shoot them. But just the visual of them being smaller and much more virus/germ-sized made them a bazillion times scarier because they felt more real in that way to me.

Why do I watch so many zombie things? Zombies FREAK ME OUT SO BAAAAAD, MAN. And the body horror, dude. Ohhhhh, I can't with the body horror and people getting mutated and... UGH. Yet I've made, like, half a dozen Alien/Prometheus vids. I AM A CONUNDRUM, what can I say? 🤷‍♀️😂

Now, ever since Vannak died, I've been trying to figure out how we can, you know, bring him back to the show. I still don't know how it could actually be done but one thing I do know is that KAI COULD TOTALLY BE FOUND INJURED BUT ALIVE. Her Mjolnir can protect her from deep space, so it could have totally protected her against a big KABOOM, too. Her body is intact, she wasn't vaporized or whatever, so that's my story and I'm sticking to it. *nodnods very seriously*

I think I'm going to have to either invent time travel or cloning to save Vannak, though. Give me a minute. 🤔😉

If we do get another season (or 2 or 5 😉), I'm wondering if they're really serious about Silver Team being gone, if we're going to get Blue Team, then? Mannnnn, I don't want Silver to be gone, though. I've fallen so in love with Kai, Riz and Vannak now, too!

I'm kinda glad that not-Thel!Arbiter wasn't Thel because that was a good ending to his storyline, with Chief's "I know what he said" and finishing him off. Obs, though, I don't want Thel to have met the same fate.

Makee's line about being a demon, too? That was a good one, yep. Still annoyed that John's first question to her last ep wasn't "Um, hi, nice to see you and how is it that you're alive?" That being unanswered was just one of those clearly "because we changed showrunners," things.

John and Cortana (now in his suit), together again, YESSSSS!!!

Hello, Guilty Spark! If this is Gravemind they're talking about, they NEED Dee Bradley Baker for the voice. Just, no question, don't even think of casting anybody else.

John doing that badass "fight through the smoke and haze to save the day" made my fangirl heart go pitter-pat, what can I say? I'm easy to please, lol!

In summary, I did love s2 in a different way than I loved s1 and I hope we'll get news of a renewal ASAP!

Also, Kai's fine, she's just having a little nap, no worries!

[lizzie-queenofmeigas]

My Opinions Of TVDU In 2024

(They really haven't changed all that much but I feel like sharing)

–I loveeee Delena. Yep, I love this ship with all my heart and I'm not afraid to say it.

–I loveee Damon, probably another problematic opinion but I don't care.

–I don't like Caroline. There, I said it. She is just the kind of person that would irritate the shit out of me. Honestly, until season 8 I couldn't handle her scenes.

–Bonenzo is the best. Loveee it. They deserved better and I personally want to stab Julie Plec for how they ended.

–Bonnie deserved better. This is an universal truth.

–I hate Tyler, but I recognise that he was right to hate Klaus and right to be mad at Caroline for sleeping with him. Revenge on Klaus was kind of dumb, but understandable. He was right to want him dead.

–Klaus is my beloved, always going to be and I'm not even sorry.

–Marcel is a Mikaelson!!! Marcel is Klaus's son and his treatment is another reason for me to feel murderous to the writers of the shows.

–I don't like Kol. Yeah, he was right in many things, but he came across as somehow self-righteous and believed himself better than his family. Like bro, you aren't.

–Finn deserved better. I honestly still wonder if Finn knew about Klaus's real father, 'cause if he did Klaus would have a valid reason to hate him. I am saying this because in The Originals season 2 episode 3 we have flashbacks of young Klaus and the necklace Esther gave him. If I remember correctly Finn was always in the background and even retrieved the necklace when Klaus lost it. Given that Finn remembered Freya and what happened to her, it wouldn't be far fetched to think he knew who Klaus's real father was and hid it as well. That being said, he is a victim of his parents as well and deserved better.

–I hate Elijah. He just gives me the wrong vibes.

–Marcel and Rebekah made sense and I ship it. The Mikaelson family is insane with their romantic relationships, so they just sort of clicked.

–Kol should have taken the cure instead of Rebekah. Bekah could just adopt, but what is going to happen with Kol when Davina dies? Nothing good. Plus, he loved being a witch.

–Hayley and Klaus and Klaus and Cami made way more sense than Haylijah and Klaroline. Honestly and throuple with Klaus and the two women who call him out on his shit the most would have been chef kiss. Hope deserved two moms.

–Every Klaus ship made more sense than Caroline. Bonnie? Bennett witch and he likes witches. Aurora? First female vampire (other than Bex) and met him when he wasn't as he is now. Elena? Has Tatia's face, and I think if Klaus just tried to befriend her and explain why he needed to break his curse she would've helped. Camille? Her mind, she clocked him the moment they met, not to mention the O'Connell legacy. Genevieve? Powerful Witch. Hayley? Baby mama, werewolf princess and hybrid, not to mention they are similar. Stefan? The ripper days gave off fruity vibes. Damon? I love their scenes together, they have a similar vibe to them. Rebekah? He is literally killing her boyfriends left and right. Elijah? The codependency is strong here, Elijah's girlfriends have a higher mortality rate than Rebekah's boyfriends. Katherine? Tatia's face, also they are similar. Greta? Their few interactions in season 2 pointed to a thing going on.

–Elena is overhated. Baby has the biggest survivor's guilt in the universe and still she soldiers on. I hate when people said she was less compassionate as a vampire, I honestly thought she was the same. Like, she controls her hunger to become a doctor. She is too good for this world.

–Enzo should have been introduced sooner, Bonnie and him should have gotten together sooner.

–They should have explored Damon's trauma with Augustine more, and the fact that he always disregards his emotions.

–Klaus wolf side should have been explored!!!

–Unpopular opinion, but not everything Katherine did was necessary for her to survive. She could have easily contented herself with one Salvatore brother, but she had to go after both.

–Davina and Klaus needed more scenes together. I mean, that's her adoptive grandpa!

–Lily was awful, Damon was in his rights to not forgive her.

–I liked Valerie, and I liked her with Stefan.

–They should have explained more about Klaus ability to have children, 'cause that was weird. I loved it, but weird.

–Alaric should have died and the twins should have been raised by someone else.

–Matt lived too long.

–Jeremy and Damon were kind of funny.

–Bamon was really great.

–They should have addressed the fact that growing up Damon was the only one there for Stefan. We saw that in the flashbacks but they should have said it more.

–Damon purpose in life was to live for those he loved. My take on him.

–Damon was pretty humanity-full vampire until after Augustine when he turned off his humanity. But, five years of torture in the hands of humans would do that to a guy.

–The witches opinion on vampires were ridiculous. This species has been around for over a millennium, they are pretty assimilated in the magic ecosystem. I think their extinction would actually do more damage than their existence.

–Mikael and Esther deserved more pain.

–I think Dahlia only tried to negotiate with Klaus not only because he was Hope's father but because he was the only one who wasn't Mikael's son.

–Vampire/Supernatural politics are actually so interesting.

–Lexi was too hyped. And I don't get what she had against Damon in the forties.

–Legacies doesn't exist.

That's all. For now.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Where did the idea that Macaque and PIF are swirn siblings come from? I've seen it in a few other fics and while I'm not in any way against it I am curious. Is it just fannon or is there evidence for it in either the show or the original text? And how did the two of them meet in your au?

I believe it's a popular fanon idea. I think it spawned from the fact that Wukong and DBK are canonically sworn brothers, and thus Macaque and PIF would have interacted back in the day through the Brotherhood - both were/are not looked upon the best by the leaders of the Brotherhood, so they may have found friendship in one another. They are also both cool af characters that sadly never interacted in the show proper.

Macaque ( -_-)/\(-_- ) PIF: Being bad b*tches with wind powers and impulsive spouses who got trapped under a mountain for 400+ years.

In "The Monkey King and the Infant" au they're sworn/adoptive siblings due to mutual past history, even before The Brotherhood. They met as young children (an incident where little Princess Tieshan stole her big sister's bag of wind and got stranded on the moon), and later became eachother's confidants when they reunited as teens (Macaque becoming PIF's attendant). When the Brotherhood started up, Macaque accidentally introduced PIF and DBK while sneaking out for a meeting. When PIF was disowned by her family for falling in love with a demon; Macaque was one of very few from her old life that stayed by her side. They supported eachother emotionally through thick and thin - SWK being imprisioned + his and Macaque's breakup, PIF's banishment and troubles having a child etc...

Then Macaque "died".

And so PIF lost the closest to a little brother she ever had.

DBK finding out about Macaque's death (or whatever version someone spun about it), combined with Red Son being taken away by Guanyin after the Samadhi Fire ritual, is partially what drove him into a rage + his own imprisonment under a mountain. And so Princess Iron Fan was left (almost) completely alone for roughly 400+ years. It's no wonder why she fcking hates SWK's guts.

By the time of the fic start, she straight up decides "fck this I'm taking my kid back and finding a way to remove the staff. I ain't waiting around on earth alone anymore."

Then a month or so later she recieves a knock on her door;

Macaque: "Hey, jiejie [big sis]. I uh... kinda got revived???" PIF: "...how and why?!" Macaque: "No idea [lie]. Ok, long story short; Wukong knocked me up-" PIF: "THAT SON OF A BIT-" Macaque: "Yeah I was mad too. We're kinda *still* on a break right now so can I crash here until... I dunno either he apologizes, I stop being mad at him, or you know... forever?" PIF, (trying to hide tears of joy): "Forever sounds like just long enough."

The emotional reunion is interuppted by toddler Red Son charging head-first (bull calf style) into Macaque out of excitement.

After realising that his sworn uncle is very upset with the Monkey King; Red Son declares war on Sun Wukong and later secretly begins devising a plan to kidnap him and force him to lift the staff. PIF thinks its adorable how protective Red Son is over them, while Macaque is reading the kid's revenge corkboard like "Oh dang, he's really going for it. I'm so proud of him. Wait... is this what having a kid feels like??"

When SWK shows up looking for Macaque, PIF pretty much wind-fan kicks his ass straight out of the mountain. Cue Wukong thinking he has to do something; Big, Dumb, Dangerous, and Extremely Hearfelt in order to get back into both Macaque's and PIF's good graces...

Small spoilers:

Macaque, extremely touched but confused af: "Peaches, I would have accepted an apology and some flowers!" PIF, non-stop cuddling DBK since he got back: "Not me. This barely gets Wukong off my hit list."

Its a huge thing. The citizens of Diyu are shooken. By the end of it, the fam is extremely confused but happy to be reunited. Red Son declares it his first ever evil victory.