#and so in her mind devotion is the closest she can get

[harrowing-of-hell]

I think people genuinely over estimate how well Gideon understands Harrow as a person, and vice versa.

Like, that's the whole point!! That's the tragedy!!!! Despite having spent their whole lives around each other as the only two children of the Ninth, despite being literally the only other people in the world they could relate to up until Canaan House, they still don't get each other!!

That's why even after the pool scene and acknowledging how both she and the Ninth house treated Gideon like shit, Harrow asks Gideon to go back to the Ninth house, which is an incredibly cruel thing to do!

At the end of GTN, Gideon fully acknowledges that killing herself would be the cruelest thing she could do to Harrow. She still does it anyways, and then in HTN acts so surprised and upset that Harrow rejects her sacrifice!! Like babygirl!! what did you expect to happen!!!!

Despite everything they've been through they legitimately do not understand each other on a fundamental level, and that's why their whole situation is just so fucking sad.

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Seven

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: reader is being chronic overthinker, some vulnerability & deep talks about anxiety, fluff!

Word Count: 4.5k

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✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The day had dawned with a heavy weariness.

You’d all slept in late, dragging yourselves out of bed only as the sun climbed high. The last day of Summit had truly taken everything from you, leaving you sore, hungover, and sad that it was over.  Now, sprawled by the pool of the house, the world outside felt like a distant blur.

Feyre and the boys had been in the pool for a few hours now. You and Mor remained on the lounge chairs, too hungover and sore to join in, opting to gossip with each other and go over moments you’d missed at Summit. But she’d slipped away a few minutes ago to fetch more drinks, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts. 

Despite your exhaustion, your mind seemed relentless, turning over thoughts that had been too quiet before. You barely noticed Feyre emerging from the pool and settling on the chair beside you, her navy blue towel with star prints spreading beneath her. The weight of her gaze on you made you shift slightly. You offered her a halfhearted smile before your attention drifted back to the pool. 

“You okay?” she asked.

”Yeah,” you said. “Just tired.”

From the corner of your eye, Feyre tilted her head, narrowing her eyes on your figure. “Really?”

You turned to look at her then, swinging your legs to the side of your chair to face her properly. “Yeah.”

”You know you can talk to me, right?”

You loved Feyre. She was easy to talk to, a loyal friend to her core. But Feyre was also a nosy person at heart. She prodded and poked, dug further at things that you often did. Sometimes it led her to grand discoveries. Other times it led her to getting involved in business she didn’t necessarily understand. 

You nodded, giving her a smile. It was genuine, albeit a bit strained, but Feyre seemed to see right through it. “I know,” you said. 

”So talk to me. What’s been up with you?”

You blinked. “What? Nothing.”

”Okay, fine,” She let out a small huff. “I was waiting until you brought it up. But since you haven’t, consider this me bringing it up. What’s going on?”

Feyre meant well— she always did— but she was never one to let go of things easily. It was a losing game to continue this with her, to repeatedly deny that something was going on in your mind that warranted such cautious, caring intervention. 

“It’s complicated.” 

Complicated felt like an understatement.  Your gaze traveled to Azriel for a split second, watching as he emerged from the pool, shaking his wet hair as he laughed at something Rhys said. 

“Complicated how?” Feyre pressed.

You realized that Feyre was probably the closest you’d get to someone who could understand your situation. She had started dating Rhys pretty soon after her split from Tamlin.  

But what if she didn't get it? Feyre had gone through so much with Tamlin, but their relationship had been significantly different from yours and Eris. They were co-dependent, turned toxic by their devotion towards one another. You and Eris… well, it was fine. Eris wasn’t a bad boyfriend. He did everything right. But he wasn't the one, it never felt right. 

“When you ended things with Tamlin, did you ever feel like…like maybe you were moving on too quickly?”

Feyres brows knitted together and, for a moment, you wondered if you’d said too much. 

“I did, yeah. But I realized it wasn’t about timing, really. Just about what felt right, what made me happy.”

You nodded, letting her words settle into your mind. You wanted them to sink into your anxious gut, to wash away the twists that had formed since yesterday. You resisted the urge to take another look at Az, to let your gaze linger on his lips. How many almost-kisses could you have with someone before they needed to be addressed?

”Why do you ask?” Feyre’s voice was low, soft, but there was an edge to it that told you she’d keep asking until she got an answer that satisfied her. 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words remained lodged in your chest for a moment. Finally, you managed a breath. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out how to move forward without feeling like I'm leaving things behind too soon.”

Your words extended to thoughts far beyond Azriel too— extended to the worries about your future plans and what you wanted in life. 

Feyre tilted her head, studying you. She pulled her wet hair around her shoulders. “Are you worried about what people will think?” 

Not just people—- them. Azriel. The truth was, it wasn’t only about moving on too quickly, though that certainly was an issue. You felt guilty about moving on at all, like you’d already had your chance and wasted it. Wasted not only their time, but Eris’s as well. Maybe you didn’t deserve this time with them. You were intruding on something you should have forfeited the moment you made the wrong choice. And by the end of this summer, you might be choosing something over them again. 

“Maybe.” You paused. “I just don’t want to hurt anyone. Or feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

Feyre’s expression softened. You felt a pang of envy at how easily she seemed to brush off the guilt she’d felt. But you supposed thats what anger tended to do. Feyre had mended her guilt with the anger she felt towards Tamlin. You knew she was still working through that now, finding a balance between wanting him to be happy and loathing him for the way he made her feel. But she never wanted to talk about it, so you never asked.

“You’re not.” Feyre said. “You have to follow what feels right for you. Moving forward doesn’t always mean you're forgetting the past, it just means you're choosing what’s best for you now.”

You wondered then, how did one know what was best for them? How could you differentiate the feeling of fate and intuition from anxiety and guilt? You were barely an adult. You didn’t know what was best for you. But somehow all of them, your friends, seemed to have things figured out just enough. They knew what they wanted to do, where they wanted to end up. You should’ve just agreed to the plan and wiped it from your mind— let them guide you until you could decide for yourself. You couldn’t though. It didn’t feel right. 

Nothing had felt right for a while. 

“Yeah,” you responded, but your voice felt small, quiet like a whisper. You cleared your throat, giving her a smile. “Thanks, Fey.”

She offered a gentle smile in return, her eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were holding back. Before she could open her mouth to speak more, her eyes focused on something beyond you. 

“I’m back,” Mor sang, her voice light and melodic. She gave you a smile as she sat in front of you, occupying the space next to Feyre. 

“Did I miss anything?” She handed you a cup before  turning to look at Feyre.

Feyre had yet to pull her gaze away from you. You met her blue eyes with a sense of pleading. You hoped, deep down, that she understood what you were asking wordlessly, that she would keep what you’d asked to herself— not pry, not dig deeper or ask someone else to. Feyre bliniked and then she nodded, turning to Mor with a smile. 

“Nope,” she replied. “Nothing at all.”

You let out a small, relieved sigh and smiled, turning your gaze back to the pool. Almost immediately, you caught Azriel’s eyes fixed on you from the water. He smiled, and the knots in your stomach twisted even further. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when your phone buzzed on the bathroom counter. Glancing down, you saw the notification light up the screen.

AzrielJoin me for a walk on the beach?

The corners of your lips twitched upwards. Another text quickly followed.

Your big muscles will scare away any nighttime threats.

It didn’t seem fair to spend as much time with Azriel when your mind was all over the place. You didn’t want to waste his time, to take him away from the rest of the group. But it was nearing midnight and you were sure the rest of the house had settled into their beds, so it wasn’t stolen time necessarily. You glanced down at your phone again, at the unopened text. Something inside you rattled, something restless that craved a moment with Az. 

You quickly pulled on a hoodie and walked downstairs.

Azriel’s face softened as you rounded the corner to the kitchen. He placed his phone in his pocket, pushing himself off of where he had leaned against the counter.

“Y/n.”

You smiled — a smile entirely too nervous to be casual— and gave him a sloppy salute. “Bodyguard reporting for duty.”

Azriel let out a small breathy laugh. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to join me.”

“And leave you defenseless?” You tsked. “I‘d never hear the end of it if something happened to you.” 

Azriel smiled, all teeth and warmth and joy. You reveled in the sight of his smile lines, in that dimple and the small, faint freckle that disappeared into it. He motioned towards the backdoor. 

“Ready?” 

You nodded, watching as he pulled a hoodie on. You tried your best not to stare at the exposed skin that showed when he lifted his arms—- truly, you did. But your eyes lingered for a moment anyway and a small blush rose to your cheeks. You’d seen Az shirtless countless times, he was practically shirtless all of today. But these intimate moments, ones where he wasn’t intending to show skin, made you flustered like a twelve year old boy searching for boobs on google. 

“Why the text? Why didn’t you just come up and grab me?”

Azriel shrugged, stepping to the side to give you space. He closed the door behind you. “I wasn’t sure if you were asleep and I didn’t want you to feel pressured to say yes. Texting you gave you the option to just… not reply and say you never saw it.”

He met your eyes and something inside you melted further than it had before, like a popsicle during midday. There was no doubt in your mind that Az didn’t think twice about his decision to text you, that he didn't realize how significant and meaningful the action really was. Even in its simplicity, it was so unbelievably caring. Words evaded you, so you gave him another smile and followed him down the path to the beach, slipping off your sandals the minute your feet met the sand. 

The beach was always quiet at night, peaceful in a way that made you feel lighter. Only a few minutes had passed since you and Azriel left the house, and now you sat side by side, sounds of the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional distant call of a seabird filling your ears. 

“Hey, uh, was everything okay earlier?”

You frowned, turning to look at Azriel as he spoke. His expression was soft, a sense of concern painted across his moonlit features.

“What do you mean?”

Az gave a half shrug. “I noticed you talking with Feyre earlier, when we were all swimming in the pool. Seemed like more than just casual conversation.”

You weren’t quite sure how to respond, whether to focus on how true his words were or the simple fact that he’d noticed. A joke slowly formed at the tip of your tongue, your eyes brightening as you opened your mouth to speak.

Azriel made a face. “Do not make some spy joke right now.”

You laughed softly and Azriel’s lips curved into a subtle smile, a knowing one. 

“Fine,” you said, jokingly exasperated. You scanned his face, taking in the way he sat on the sand, how the faint, cool, night breeze ruffled the loose curls on his head.  “You always seem to do that, y’know.”

Azriel blinked, his head cocking slightly. A small crease appeared between his furrowed brows. He was thinking— observing something that he would no doubt store for later. 

“Hmm?” 

You brought your knees to your chest, taking a moment to look out onto the dark expanse of the ocean. A wave rolled into the sand before you, foamy and glistening with reflected moonlight. You placed your arms across your knees and turned your head to look at him again.

“Read me so well,” You said. “I think with anyone else, it would drive me crazy…but not with you. It feels comforting. Like someone who knows what I’m really thinking.” 

“Not always,” Azriel said. His voice was soft, skittering across the sounds of the waves washing on shore. You watched him trace idle patterns into the sand with his fingers before he gave you a sidelong glance. “Sometimes I’m just as clueless as anyone else.”

A silence settled between you both. You traced the motions of the ocean with your eyes, following the waves that rolled onto the sand before you— they were getting closer, each one inching to where you dug your toes into the sand. But neither you or Az seemed to mind.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Az’s voice pulled you from the trace of the sea. He was already looking at you by the time you met his eyes again. There was a look in them that made your heart skip—a softness, a warmth that was almost disarming. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and then offered your hand to him, outstretched and palm up. Azriel knitted his brows, his gaze falling down to your hand. He frowned.

“Where's the penny?” You asked with a raised brow, suppressing the twitch at the corners of your lips.

Azriel’s eyes widened and a laugh left his lips, one of disbelief and amusement. It pulled a smile from him, too, and then he was sitting up straight. “Well that's not fair. I didn’t bring my wallet.”

You pursed your lips, pulling your hand back into your chest with a playful shrug. “Too bad.”

He scanned the sand around him, hands digging and shifting through the grains with focused intent. After a moment, he made a triumphant noise and looked back at you with an expectant face.

You frowned, but Az only nodded towards the hand you had pulled back into your chest. You caught his drift, placing it out once more, and he smiled— a tight, lopsided mischievous one— as he placed something in your hand. You laughed softly, the sound blending with the gentle crash of the waves as you observed the object. The seashell now in your palm was small, textured and ridged with a faint blue tint that shimmered under the moonlight. You met Az’s eyes.

“Do you ever feel like you just keep making the wrong decisions?” You toyed with the seashell in your hands, fingers running over its rough surface. “And now you don’t trust any decision you make?” 

Azriel’s expression softened. “All the time.”

“How do you deal with it?”

His gaze turned to the horizon, eyes scanning the endless expanse as if searching for his words among the open water. After a moment, he turned back to you, a small, almost sad smile on his face. “I’m not the right person to ask that.”

You nodded in understanding. In a strange way, it felt comforting to know Az wasn’t as prepared as everyone else, that his mind seemed to wander and drift the same way yours often did. You thought for a moment how comforting it might be to float with Az, to be lost with him in an open, blue sea. 

Azriel seemed to call your thoughts back even when they evaded you, yourself. 

You adjusted your position, turning to face him more directly. Sitting cross-legged, you held the seashell in your hands, now warm from your touch. “Graduation is coming up and everything seems to be shifting so fast, Az. I’m so desperate to find my footing that I think I'm just acting rashly or out of fear.”

Azriel turned to face you, shifting his position just as you had. There was something so soft about him now. You weren’t sure if it was the glow of the moon, the comfort of the sea, or the way your heart leaped whenever he laughed. But as he sat across from you, you wanted nothing more than to spill your entire mind to him, to reach forward and touch him, to wrap that curl that often fell on his forehead around your finger and tuck it back into place. 

“Maybe what you need is to find some balance,” He said. “Or, should I say a golden mean?”

There was a playful grin on his lips as he spoke. It made you smile a bit wider, though you were still confused at the tone of his voice, at the words he’d just spoken. 

“Really?” You raised a brow, your smile breaking wide open as Az’s eyes glimmered in wake of your realization. “You’re referencing Aristotle?”

Az only shrugged in response, the playful grin still on his lips. 

“And I’m the pretentious philosophy major.”

Azriel laughed and the sound resonated warmly within you, filtering through your lungs like oxygen.  

“I had to,” he said as he searched your face. His grin fell into something sweeter, something nostalgic and soft. “You gave a whole presentation on it in freshman year. About how disharmony produces difficulties, that we should strive for a desirable middle.”

A rush of emotion swept through you, settling at the very core of your being. And something blossomed in its path, something tight and giddy, electric and alive. 

“I-” You hesitated, blinking as you took in the person before you again, through a lens of even deeper admiration. “You remember that?”

Those were your exact words, too.

“Of course.” Azriel said, as if the question itself was silly to even ask. He looked back at the waves, his expression thoughtful, voice falling to a hushed tone. “I remember a lot of things from freshman year.”

Freshman year felt like a lifetime ago. You took another moment to admire Az, to trace the side of his face, the small bump on his nose, the dagger earring that hung from his ear. The Azriel before you was different in many ways— but not in the ways that mattered, you realized. Those things hadn’t changed at all. 

You weren’t sure if the same thing applied to you. You’d changed a lot since freshman year. Your mind sorted through those memories now, to Mor and Feyre, to your dorm and the roommate that you didn’t talk to anymore— the occasional instagram comment and birthday message didn’t count. One memory, however, kept resurfacing: that halloween night, that party, that stolen moment in the upstairs bedroom. What were the chances he was thinking of it too? 

“What else do you remember about freshman year?”

You waited with baited breath. This was his chance to back out, to let the conversation drift away if he wasn’t ready to revisit those memories. If he didn’t bring it up, neither would you. You’d bury it away for his comfort, let the memory sit and collect dust, only revisit it when you were alone.  

After what felt like an eternity, a small, almost wistful smile touched Azriel’s lips. He turned to you.

“I remember Halloween.”

You took a sharp inhale. “You do?”

Az nodded and that one curl bounced on his forehead as if on cue. “I do,” he said. 

“Anything specific?”

Please, you thought. Prove to me that you’ve thought about it, too. 

“We almost kissed that night.”

Gripping the seashell tighter, you took a deep breath and nodded. It was silly that a nod was all you could manage, all you could respond with as your chest constricted. A nod like he had just listed something from his grocery list rather than a memory that had shaped your feelings, a memory that lingered in your mind for years.

“Almost,” you pulled yourself to say. 

 “Almost,” he repeated quietly.

“Why didnt you?” You chewed at your bottom lip. “Why didn’t you kiss me that night?”

“What do you mean?” Azriel’s brow furrowed. “Cass walked in on us.”

You shook your head. You’d replayed the night in your head so often, had practically lived in it the months following— hadn’t been able to stop the repeat of it until you’d developed feelings for Eris. 

“No,” you said. “You hesitated before Cass even walked in.”

Azriel stilled, blinking slowly as he took a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the waves. 

“You looked so beautiful that night.” His voice was tender, his eyes locking back onto yours with sincerity. “I mean, you always do, Y/n. Always. But god, I was tripping over myself the entire night, trying to hype myself up. I wanted to kiss you so bad.”

A smile spread across your face as a nervous flutter bounced in your chest. “Then what happened?”

Azriel’s smile faltered and he swallowed hard. His gaze fell to his lap where he fidgeted with his hands. Your heart sank.

“It was so stupid.” He shook his head, his voice tinged with frustration. “So stupid. But some guy—some loser from Rhysand's frat—pulled me aside, told me my costume was great, that the scars on my hands were so ‘gnarly and gross’ they almost looked real.”

His eyes flicked back up to meet yours. The hurt in his expression was so evident that your heart ached at it. But it wasn’t just hurt Azriel bore, it was embarrassment.

 “Az…” 

He shook his head. “It was so dumb.” 

“Stop—” 

“So fucking dumb. But it got to me. And then I was with you, in that room, and when I saw my hand on your cheek... it felt wrong. I felt wrong. Then Cassian came in, drunk off his ass and sat between us. I thought it was some sign. I got so in my head that I could barely pull myself out for the rest of the semester. By the time I could face it, face you, you'd—”

You nodded, a pang of guilt settling in as you pulled your lips together. Eris had asked you out a month a half after, when that strange distance between you and Az had settled. 

“I know.” You ran your fingers over the seashell again. “I’m sorry, Az.”

“What could you possibly have to be sorry for?”

“That someone made you feel less than what you are.” You paused to take in his expression, to stare into his eyes, bask in the warmth they offered.  “And for Eris, too. I missed out on a lot of our friendship. I’m sorry for that.” 

Azriel’s expression softened as shook his head, a gentle smile forming on his lips. 

“That’s not true.” His smile widened slightly. “Even if it was, at least we’re making up for lost time now, right? Strong friendship.”

You laughed softly, but the feeling didn’t spread throughout your body. Friendship. 

Maybe too much time had passed for you and Az to be anything more than friends. The thought made you nauseous, sent a chill throughout your body.  Az’s eyes narrowed in on you as you shivered. 

“You’re cold,” he said. “We should probably head in; it’s getting pretty late anyways.”

You opened your mouth to protest but thought better of it. “Yeah, probably.”

You forced a small smile as you stood, shoving the seashell into your pocket. You avoided looking directly at Azriel. There was a pang in your chest that made it hard to breathe, disappointment mingled with an uneasy acceptance. Maybe this is what the shape of closure felt like, you thought, something akin to growth, perhaps. Uncomfortable but needed. 

With a final sigh, you turned to head inside, making slow, deliberate steps up the beach, the sand cool beneath your feet. Faintly, you became more aware of your surroundings, of the fact that the sound of the waves crashing seemed to carry a faint, hesitant call of your name. 

You paused and turned back toward the ocean. Azriel was jogging to catch up, his silhouette outlined by the moonlight. His breathing was labored as he stopped before you, eyes glimmering with something bright and searching. 

“I should’ve kissed you that night,” Az said. “And every night after.” 

He reached up and gently brushed a stray strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek. “I regret not telling you how I felt. It was torture watching you be with someone else, Y/n.”

You wanted to respond, but nothing seemed right—no words felt enough. You took a breath and let your shoes fall from your grip, resting a hand over his on your cheek. You reveled in the sensation of his touch, feeling the warmth of his skin and the subtle ridges of his fingers, the touch that was uniquely his. And gently, you lowered his hand, holding it with both of yours, fingers intertwining with his. A flicker of confusion passed through his face, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly.

With another breath, you closed the distance between you. 

Your lips met his with a tentative softness— a tentative brush of warmth that sent your stomach into a whirlwind of sensation. His lips were warm and inviting, moving against yours slowly, carefully, and the act of him kissing you back washed away any worry, any stress and guilt you’d felt recently. 

You drew back for a moment, breathing heavily as your eyes fluttered open. Azriel’s gaze was heavy, molten, and his lips remained parted as he took you in. Then, they curved upwards, and Az let out a breath, eyes brightening.  His smile was the last thing you saw before his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. 

Your hands found their way to the back of his neck as his mouth returned to yours, more insistent this time. This kiss was deeper, a hunger etched in every movement— a need to make up for lost time. His mouth slotted over yours, fitting perfectly in a way that felt inevitable, like you were always meant to end up here, in his arms. 

Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound of it echoing in your ears as you let yourself sink deeper into the kiss. You were sure he could feel it against him, perhaps even hear it, too. A gentle scrape of his teeth against your bottom lip made your knees weak and you wondered, for a moment, if this was what ecstasy felt like. You realized a second later that this was what right felt like. Nothing had felt right because it hadn’t been Azriel. 

When you both pulled apart, chests heaving, eyes glazed and mouths puffy, Az ran his thumb along your bottom lip. A beautiful smile graced his lips.

“I would’ve waited four more years for that,” he whispered, and then he kissed you again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

author's note: two overthinkers who just get each other... i love them your honor. i want to sit on a beach and have someone give me a seashell :( now im excited bc theyre abt to be sooo damn cute with each other oml

also... check out the one summer graphic gallery for some hot drawings of the summer!boys and co. <3 literally foaming at the mouth theyre so attractive

as always, thank you for reading 🫶🏻 all of yalls comments n notes make me so happy.

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[onsomenewsht]

now playing: In The Kitchen

< track 1 || track 3 >

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader (past) / Leah Williamson x Reader (platonic)

》 words count: ~900

》 deleted the playlist / but I still hear all your favorite melodies

“Can you change the song at least?”

Leah just ignores you, keeping tidying up your bedroom as if your clothes personally offended her. You can’t really be mad at the blonde, if not for her you could be even more miserable. And you’re already in a pretty shitty state if you have to say yourself.

But an intervention from your new captain and unplanned friend is unnecessary, you think.

Yes, sometimes you ignore calls from your closest friends. Yes, occasionally you hide in your still-kinda-bare but brand-new house. Yes, every now and again you lose yourself in your fucked up mind.

Why does she have one of Alexia’s favourite reggaeton songs in her cleaning playlist? 

When the defender pulls up out of nowhere a hoodie that you tried to bury as soon as you moved in, you’re back on square one.

“You’re pathetic”

“You’re such a good friend, Williamson”

“I am, thank you so much and thank Keira for it”

You really should.

You’re quite sure Keira convinced her best friend to look after you. She’s one of the few among all your former teammates who’s actually trying not to look at you like you kicked a puppy with no remorse.

The puppy is Alexia. 

The kicking is you asking for a transfer and basically disappearing.

You definitely should thank her.

“One may think in your hurry to leave you should have left behind your ex’ clothes”, the yellow number painfully standing out on the royal blue fabric.

“Drop it”

“The hoodie or the truth?”

You don’t answer, but you find the energy to move from your bed and rip the piece of clothes from her hand. You don’t even look at it when you abruptly throw it somewhere in your opened closet, too busy trying not to let the memories invade your tired mind.

Alexia’s warm embraces, strong arms around you and tender hands drawing mindlessly patterns.

Fuck it.

You can’t deal with it now.

You can’t deal with anything lately.

Apparently, leaving the room is not a great idea either, both Leah and the song are following you everywhere. Fuck the expensive audio system you convinced your brokenhearted self you needed too.

The music is getting louder, your head is beating even harder and your friend is too persistent.

You shut down the audio system entirely by ripping the main cord from its place and the defender flinches, stopping in the middle of your kitchen. She’s used to your mood swings, but she still doesn't know what to do when you're this touchy.

“Let’s cook something”, the captain proposes after a quiet moment.

“Don’t you have your own house with your own kitchen?”

“Yeah, but you can actually use it”

You take the excuse to distract and ground yourself, cooking is always able to help you to calm down and focus your mind on simpler tasks. Leah looks at you moving around your kitchen, somehow dancing without music but following a rhythm only you can hear.

For a while it’s almost like your real self is back, the version Keira described over the years but Leah meets just briefly when something sparks in your dark eyes. It happens sometimes, unexpectedly, other times she realises it was there seeing as the light dims.

Then you recognise you’re cooking Alexia’s comfort food and lose the grip on the knife. 

You debate throwing it all in the trash.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Can I stop you?”

You place two portions and while Leah pretty much devours her own, yours remains untouched.

“Do you regret it?”

“Chew the damn food, Williamson”

“Take your pretty head out of your ugly ass”, she quipped back, mouth full.

You admire her. She’s forceful, devoted. She keeps her word. She promised her best friend to look after a broken soul she didn’t even know personally, and that she does. And now Leah genuinely cares about you, to the point of being brutally honest when you need to be called out.

“I don’t regret it”

“You’re miserable”

“Well said cap, thanks for the pep talk!”

The blonde takes the plate under your frown and starts eating it, no reason to let such a good meal go to waste. The two of you keep it quiet for the next hour, she cleans the dishes and tidies up the kitchen as a silent thank you for the shared launch.

In the middle of the afternoon, you let her back in your bedroom and don’t even protest too much when she insists on you at least folding your clothes.

She’s wasting her day off making sure you don’t sulk in your own misery, so you kind of have to come to the conclusion you should at least indulge her.

The hoodie pops up again and this time you allow yourself to feel it. 

To feel her.

Alexia’ smell is well gone but a sudden memory overwhelms you.

An unnecessary long car ride to a secluded beach she insists on taking you to. Even if the unusual pale Barcelona sun is setting, even if she has rehab in the early morning the day after. The hoodie she’s wearing, the perfect fit with her open smile. You wrapped around royal blue on the return trip. It’s darker outside but your eyes are brighter. Her perfume lingers on the fabric.

Now you just hold onto ghosts.

[gonzo-rella]

Headcanons: Being Married To Old Man Ray Stantz

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): old man!Ray Stantz x gn!also old!reader (romantic)

Warnings: Possibly inaccurate science words, because I'm a simpleton. (Let me know if I need to add any)

(A/N: Here's my first Ghostbusters thing! I've got a few other Ghostbusters fics in the works, mostly Ray-based reader-inserts because I'm in love with him, but I've also got a Phoebe-centric character study in the works that's based on part of her storyline in Frozen Empire. By the way, I loved Frozen Empire! I've already seen it three times, and it's such a joy. I'll try to catch it a couple more times at least before it leaves cinemas. Anyway, I haven't included any explicit spoilers for Frozen Empire in this, so you're safe to read this if you haven't seen it yet. I'd love to write more old man Ray Stantz fics, especially something involving Phoebe. I'm really excited to write for Ghostbusters, so feel free to send in requests! I've only seen the movies, but I plan on watching the Real Ghostbusters at some point soon. Also, even though I took my mum to see Frozen Empire the other day, I still don't have anyone to talk to about this movie, so please feel free to talk to me about it!)

It’s evident that, even after all of these years, Ray is still madly in love with you.

The adoration with which he looks at you is clear as day.

Venkman has always loved to tease you both about how sickly sweet your relationship is.

He will make fake gagging when either of you are affectionate to one another when he’s around.

(He won’t admit it, but he actually finds your relationship to be kind of cute)

It’s not like either of you are overly lovey-dovey, especially now.

Ray’s naturally a very passionate and expressive guy, but he’s rarely mushy.

Still, you show one another how much you care.

I have this idea that your silent way of saying ‘I love you’ to each other is holding the other’s hand, stroking their knuckles with your thumb and smiling at them.

It just seems so cute to have this thing that you’ve been doing for your whole relationship.

Ray knows you like the back of his hand, and you know him just the same.

It’s almost scary how well you know one another.

I can imagine that there’s been a time that someone’s asked one of you a question, and the other has been able to answer it with ease.

I love the idea of Ray being with someone who’s not a scientific mind like himself.

So, if you’re not as knowledgeable about the supernatural as Ray, you’ll still have picked up on plenty of information against your will, and Ray will always be impressed with and proud of you when you manage to regurgitate or understand his ‘science-y word salad’ (as you have referred to it).

He will also find it very attractive when you talk supernatural or science to him, but he tries not to make it obvious.

His eyes still light up like he’s a kid on Christmas when he explains supernatural stuff to you or tells you about a new psychically charged item he’s bought, and you find it so endearing.

Also, I can imagine him practically forcing you to listen to Podcast’s podcast when he discovers it, and you both end up getting really into it.

As devoted as he still is to his work and his supernatural endeavours, spending time with you is his greatest priority.

He might miss being an active Ghostbuster, but the silver lining of it is that he gets more time with you than he ever used to.

Even if you both used to be Ghostbusters, it’s nice to spend time together that doesn’t involve being covered in ghost slime and shouting over nuclear accelerators.

If you’ve not got anything else to do, I think it’d be sweet if you kept him company in his store.

Phoebe and Trevor are your honorary grandkids and you and Ray are beyond proud of them, especially Phoebe, who you’re closest to of the two of them.

Phoebe will always remind the both of you of Egon, so whenever she does something particularly Egon-like, you will exchange a knowing glance, and when she’s gone you’ll end up reminiscing about your old friend.

If Phoebe or the other Spenglers ever want to hear about Egon, you’re both more than happy to talk to them about him.

Even in his golden years, Ray is still the same sweet, passionate, excitable man you married all those years ago.

Sure, the regular excitement that came with Ghostbusting is long behind you both, but you both cherish this quieter time together just as much.

[violetdaphne]

percabeth tv show-verse headcanons because middle school me is frothing at the mouth at her fav book series being adapted

when it comes time for offerings, percy does not move. he doesn't move a goddamn muscle, staying put at the poseidon table because, sure, his dad helped him during the quest but that doesn't mean he can forget so easily the shadow that came over luke's face when the older demigod explained how the gods expect their children to burn their own food just for a sliver of attention so percy chooses to just. not move. he sits and eats and ignores the curious glances he gets from other campers when its their turn. so no, he doesn't offer anything to his dad or any other god, even when Mr. D gives him the stink eye but what he does do is spot the glaring mission portion on annabeth's plate from her scraping off her own offering (she sits with him now, at the poseidon table breaking many rules about sitting with your own cabin because she can't stand seeing percy all alone, and, well, he's actually kind of fun to hang around for a seaweed brain), he sees the gaps on her plate and instead of offering anything to his dad he offers his own food to her, insisting when she protests and scoping a portion of his own meal onto her plate the moment he has an opening because he doesn't want her going hungry, not because of athena. it feels a little bit like blasphemy but also achingly devotional so he hides his grin behind a proud smirk and says no take-backies while she just raises her brows amusedly.

percy has developed a scary, uncanny habit that freaks out grover and other campers of being able to tell exactly where annabeth is even when she's wearing the invisibility cap. whether it be during capture the flag, sword training, climbing the lava wall, or just meandering about camp to avoid clarisse, percy just has a sort of annabeth-sense and can point with near complete accuracy where she stands when completely invisible to the naked eye. it becomes a camp favorite spectacle to watch them during games and training, fighting back to back, or against each other, and just how swiftly they move, even when percy can't see his partner. he's not sure how or why he is able to know where she is, but secretly loves how he is the only one able to pick her out in a crowd. percy jokes he has his very own spidey-sense geared toward annabeth but she stares at him blankly, the reference going over her head and he just mentally adds it to the very long list of movies he needs to show her. (he does end up, eventually, showing her spiderman but ends up shutting it off quickly when the sight of the spider biting peter parker send her spiraling)

sometimes, when her cabin is just too loud and her bunkmates are too rambunctious and the noise pulses in her ears and she just wants some peace and fucking quiet for once annabeth will slip her cap on and sneak away from her siblings and most often ends up outside the poseidon cabin, asking percy shyly if he minds if she hides out here for a bit because everywhere else is too loud and too much. she doesn't even get to finish her sentence before percy ushers her in and says she's welcome in his cabin anytime. it suprises her, an athena kid, how much she ends up liking the tranquility and ocean-air scent of the poseidon cabin. there's only a few bunks compared to the many that line the walls of her own cabin, so percy lets her chose one (she chooses the one closest to his own and decidedly doesn't think about what it means) and she finally gets some quiet time for her to read or work on blueprints or whatever else she wants to do. sometimes percy is there, sitting idly with his own craft or book to keep him occupied, and annabeth finds she quite likes these times where she and him can just sit together in a contented peace. it becomes common knowledge at camp that when one can't find annabeth the best place to look is the poseidon cabin, and when that doesn't work just find percy because the two are quickly becoming attached at the hip, much to grover's delighted annoyance.

speaking of grover, he gets first row seats to the developing friendship between the two and he knows, knows that this is it. this right in front of him, the bickering and arguing that can flip to deep understanding and compassion at the flick of a hat is fucking endgame, or the closest to it at just 12 years old. he watches how they work together during capture the flag, so scarily in tune that they are able to more than once outsmart clarisse and the other team. he watches percy practice controlling his powers and water abilities at the shoreline of camp, annabeth just feet away and watching in a poorly hidden awe as he moves the tide and waves with a flick of his wrist. he watches them sneak around after curfew because annabeth wanted to show percy the constellations and the best time to see them is in the dead of night so they brave the harpies and Mr. D's wrath to lay out on the pier of camp to see the stars. he watches them on the quest when annabeth insists he is alive after the arch, watches them hug like he isn't standing right there and the relief is palpable, and he just. knows. its so obvious and he loves to claim, years later, that he knew first.

the ocean and water and all its inhabitants are all extensions of percy, right? they're all in poseidon's, and therefore percy's domain so its only natural for them follow in his lead when he's around. therefore, its only natural for the water and it's grace to treat annabeth with the same respect it treats their demigod. percy makes sure of it, if inadvertently, chiding the tide to be careful and warning the waves to not chill her. and the kicker? he doesn't even realize he's doing it until annabeth mentions offhand that the water during her canoe lesson at camp was particularly and oddly calm when everyone else's was rough and choppy. he blushes so bad she offers to take him to the infirmary, which evidently only makes him flush harder.

poseidon realizes it too, of course, the ocean is primarily his domain and he knows well what's going on in every inch of it, so he senses immediately how percy is growing into his powers, exercising his control over the sea and growing more powerful day by day, and how it all seems to center around a certain athena kid. he rubs it in athena's face, the growing friendship between their kids, but find himself getting really quiet when she sends her owl after his eyes.

luke calls them an old married couple and they hate how right he is, and how they keep accidently proving him right. they argue over the littlest of things; the best type of jam to put on toast at breakfast, the pronunciation of greek words and monsters, the best way for percy to take care of his curls, anything and everything they will find something to bicker over until grover or whoever is with them just stares until the argument peters out and they move on to the next subject without missing a beat, leaving whoever their unfortunate third wheel is feeling very adrift.

[neoplatinum]

speed racer | nicha 'minnie' yontararak

summary: after the loss of your mentor, you reconnect with an old friend. also to discuss growing up around each other.

pairing: minnie x street racer!reader

themes: childhood friends to lovers, angst, sad minnie :(, small character 'death', mentions of yuqi

wc: 1.6k

eyes on the road, hand's on the wheels and keep your head leveled. that's what your mentor said to you when he offered to let you drive his road racer when you were thirteen. now at the age of twenty something and the loss of your mentor, you try to keep his teaching in your mind when you race. the only attachment you have left is his modded mk4 supra and a pack of half used cigarettes and lighter from his last days.

no one heard from him since, everyone agreed that he has passed away, but you knew better. that man was resilient and able to get himself even out of the worst situations, so you were confused when his family showed up asking where he had been.

his last words to you were, "drive." but there was nothing left for you here. in a past hobby that led to more injuries than a cash prize, you were determined to leave the street racing scene.

sometimes you race though, whenever minnie calls you to. one of the closest friends you had growing up. growing up around each other whenever her father gave you racing lessons or even just spending dinner together. both of you had grown up orbiting around each other but never collided until her father disappeared.

the funeral procession took place weeks ago, but you couldn't find the strength to attend. instead you opt to take his favorite supra out for a long long ride, reminiscing of his drifting techniques and his shifts. deciding it was the proper way to honor his disappearance, you take his supra out for every weekend.

tonight you find minnie's car out on an overlook as she stares out into the scenery of the distant city. her eyes glossy and arms crossed.

"hey." you start when you step out of her old man's car. she still hasn't registered that there's someone next to her. "minnie?" you call out to her.

"oh hi," she starts wiping away the tears that are rushing down her face, rubbing with her palms and wiping them off on her jeans. you offer a tissue and stand next to her.

"how are you doing?" you start.

"well how well can anyone really be doing when their father's missing and everyone thinks he is dead." she explains in a shaky voice and holding her own arms for comfort. you go into the trunk and hand her a jacket to wrap around.

"here." you offer, to which she smiles seeing the jacket. an old jacket that was once her father's. large and old and worn, with small holes and cutes along the sleeves. she can tell that you've been wearing it frequently.

"this jacket...you know he loved you right?" she starts, watching you stare into the city with a heavy heart. "he always talked about how much you reminded him of his young self."

"i know that old geezer loved me, i truly do." you begin. shuffling your feet and kicking pebbles to avoid looking at minnie.

"sometimes i thought he loved you more than his own daughter," minnie explains slowly, you look at her confused "i used to resent how much time he spent with you instead of his own daughter. how he could devote hours to a kid that isn't his when he has his own."

you nod, its obvious what circling around each other since you were young has put you two into. she resented you for the attention you were given. on the other hand you resented her for being the kid that he went home to and spent time with, leaving you to sleep outside and away from their family.

"glad to know we both felt the same." you grin and she drops her jaw.

"what?" she exclaims.

"i resented you too minnie, you were the kid he actually went home to, i was left to sleep alone in the shed while you were his family. i always just felt like a stray, never part of the family." you turn more serious and face her as you talk.

she stops to think about your words and feelings, to understand your point of view and why you feel the way that you do.

"he really is something else." she laughs a bit and turns back to face the city. "i miss him."

"me too minnie."

she looks at your features, ones that are familiar and ones that are new. not seeing each other for so long has definitely been jarring.

"i see you still take his car out for spins." she glances at her father's black supra. she circles the car before settling into the passenger seat.

you get into the driver's seat and watch her marvel at the car that was once her fathers.

"stupid dad, him and his cars." she lets out tears when she sees the photo of him and minnie in the glove box, a treasured photo that she never knew he kept. you smile at the photo and lean over.

"lets go on a ride, i'll follow you." you smile at her. she nods and settles back into her own purple car. turning the engine into a loud roar before setting off into the night, you following behind closely as you both share the same feelings of driving.

--

you both reach a local convenience store by the end of the night. as you both eat cup noddles by the window, minnie turns to you.

"how are you and yuqi doing?" she asks, immediately you cringe at the question. rather unfortunate memories resurface when you think of song yuqi.

you answer honestly, "she dumped me." digging into your bowl of noodles and slurping loudly. minnie nods to process the answer; you can see her curiosity overflowing.

"what happened?" she continues in a more gentle tone. her eyes following your eyeline.

you sit and ponder the breakup as well as the aftermath. a hard topic to go back to, considering yuqi and minnie were close friends until you started dating yuqi.

you cough a bit, "she says that im in love with someone else." the air becomes stiff, yuqi hasn't spoken to minnie in a long time so she's suprised by the answer.

"are you? in love with someone else?" she asks and hands you a napkin. in between bites you try and think about the question because it has you stumped for weeks.

"not that i can think of." it's hard to come to terms with your own feelings for other people. instead, most of the girlfriends you've had all approached you first.

"then you're dumb." minnie bites out.

"do you know something that i don't know?" you counter.

she nods and points at you. "when we used to hook up, way before yuqi, you called it quits because you liked me." she explains.

"no i didn't." you roll your eyes, you hooked up with minnie because it was safe; it wasn't complicated like feelings were. you both understood each other's boundaries, never crossing past them. "that wasn't why i called it quits."

"then why did you call it quits?" minnie prods at your brain.

"it was probably because you said you liked someone." you mutter back, eating more of the ramen you had.

"nope, didn't like anyone at the time." she smiles as she says it, "you were just scared that you were falling for me." she grins in that familiar manner; when she knows something you don't know.

"i didn't like you then minnie." you conclude, a little exhausted from all this interrogating. "did you know that yuqi was uncomfortable with us hanging out?"

she nods, "yeah, it's why we drifted apart. she thought i wanted to steal you."

"as if." you scoff at the idea.

"she wasn't wrong though, i did want to steal you from her." she goes on. the shock is written all over your face.

minnie nods and explains that she used to like you too, but her dad forbade you two from ever dating. "he hated the idea of us dating. said i should find someone who isn't like him: not dangerous, you know."

"i agree, you should find someone better."

"see, that's why you're just like him, always thinking i deserve better, when all i want is you." she continues, and you let her. she explains how she always wanted you around, and when you called it quits, it broke her heart.

you're confused, but she explains that she's always liked your resilience and that yuqi dating you is what made their friendship distant; she couldn't bear to see you two together.

"yuqi is nothing like me, she's loud, she's brash and she gets what she wants. i've waited for years to even ask you how you truly feel about me. all along i've liked you." she says.

you nod, a little shocked by all this, minnie never mentioned that she liked you all these years, even when you told her you wanted to get to know yuqi better.

minnie is a woman that feels hard, feels all her emotions and lets others take her spot, even if she deserves it. and you feel awful, knowing that her feelings were never properly reciprocated. also that younger you was too caught up in your own suffering that you had strung minnie along.

"i'm sorry for dumping this all on you all of a sudden." her shoulders drop.

"it's okay, i needed to hear this. to finally understand us." you explain back. it's strange, seeing minnie after all this time, so familiar yet she's changed, grown into herself more. trying to better grasp the opportunities that she has. meanwhile you're staying afloat lost in yourself, confused where to go next.

"hey, if i beat you down that mountain, you owe me a date." she grins, shaking her car keys.

"and if i beat you?" you ask back.

"then i owe you a date." she says back.

you laugh out, "fair deal. let's drive."

--

a/n: don't know how i feel about the ending but i wanted to do a street racer story for a minute. wanted to incorporate more about street racing but i got tired. stay safe and stay healthy everyone!

[meanbossart]

i always love asking ppl this; how does your character (du drow) see themselves .vs. how they are seen by others (loved ones, friends, acquaintances, etc)

That is a good question!

When it comes to his self-perception, DU Drow assumes he cuts a very intimidating and off-putting figure at worst - and someone impressive and powerful at best.; he doesn't care either way as long as it favors him in either being left alone or getting what he wants out of people. He believes himself to appear confident and as having little regard for other people besides for his tight-knit group of friends and partner. He does believe that he's reliable - and even caring, as weirdly as he may express it. Not particularly intelligent but not dense enough to seem like an idiot. When it comes to more complex stuff - his needs, wants, beliefs, and how that comes across - his self-understanding is extremely lacking and vague. He doesn't have much of a point of comparison, however, so he doesn't really grapple with that.

When it comes to strangers (at least on the surface) he is pretty much right that he comes across as a scary, powerful person. Funnily enough, in the Underdark he is way less impressive to most of the population - a strange sight nonetheless, but his tactics don't work as well on it's citizens. Most drow don't know what to make of him, and generaly don't take him seriously or assume him to be half-something else or even not a drow at all.

(Shadowheart's and Astarion's POVs below, NOTE: these are based on what their relationships are like at the end-game/post-game, obviously there would be some significant differences if we were to talk about first-impressions and so on)

Shadowheart, being his closest friend, sees DU drow as kind of a doofus. She understands him as an animal with simple motivations and impulses, and has no real interest in pushing him to be anything else - in fact she envies how simplistically DU drow seems to view life and every hurdle that it throws his way, and looks up to him for seeming largely unaffected by his circumstances and unburdened by the things he has done/have happened to him. She does think he's a very fun person to be around - and someone she can say anything to and trust him to tell her exactly whats on his mind back, and generally tell her to pull herself by the bootstraps instead of letting her wallow in misery - she has overall a lot of respect and appreciation for the guy, though she doesn't express it too often since she thinks his ego is inflated enough. She isn't afraid or unnerved by him in the slightest and is kind of amused at how much other people are - she pretty much forgets that he looks like a freak.

As his romantic partner, Astarion's perception on him is fairly different. He thinks a bit more highly of Du drow's intellect than it probably appears, and finds it frustrating that he guy just doesn't seem to want to entertain a lot of... Thinking. He knows he can be perceptive and insightful based on how he treats him, but for whatever reason never applies that to himself, and the more they grow to know each other the more he thinks it's just a barrier DU drow has set up so he doesn't have to grapple with the things he's done and what he is. He is under no illusions that DU drow isn't a egoistical, blood-thirsty person (he likes those things about him, anyway) but worries that one day something will click in his brain, and all that willful ignorance will culminate into something terrible. He also thinks DU drow is a far more empathetic person than himself.

He really likes DU drow's company for his unfiltered demeanor - he thinks he's funny and a good listener (lol) and finds a lot of comfort in being with someone who seems incapable of hiding how they feel about him and their relationship, and doesn't think DU drow has much capacity for being manipulative or deceptive. Naturally he adores how much DU drow seems willing to devote himself to him, but it bothers him that it sometimes seem to veer into weird, damsel-in-distress-fantasy territory. Basically there's a lot about the guy that Astarion both likes and doesn't simultaneously.

[menlove]

What do you think actually happened between John and Paul that caused John to become so bitter and vindictive towards Paul? If I remember correctly, the prevailing theory of John being rejected by Paul was actually conceived to retroactively 'explain ' John's behavior because otherwise it seems inexplicable why he would turn on so completely on the person who had been arguably his closest friend, if not lover. However, it's evident from Paul's lyrics and interview to Hunter Davies that he is entirely confused and hurt by John's behavior. Like he even complains everyone always looks to him for blame but nobody sees how much he was hurt by John. I'm not trying to take any sides here of course, both John and Paul had their faults and issues which complicated their relationship but genuinely curious to hear what your theory is.

honestly? bpd. like I barely even think of it as a theory, although ofc it is, bc sooooo many people agree that john could have Easily been diagnosed w bpd

like there's a thing called splitting w bpd where you just. like on a Dime you can't stand someone. and this can be very brief (I've split on people and it lasted like an hour) or permanent but it's very common. like you go every quickly from idealization to demonization of a person. or complete apathy (which is my personal kryptonite rip)

not only that but there's quite a few paul quotes where he talks about the fact that john started "slagging him off" as a way to distance himself from paul/the beatles and sort of "prove" to yoko that he was entirely devoted to her. which also makes sense to me as a bpd cunt bc I've unfortunately done that too 😭 and it's not necessarily an act either, it's just like.......... your brain can't make room for the way you feel for a New Person and an Old Person so you start analyzing everything that Old Person did and finding every flaw and magnifying it and blowing it up until you start feeling bitter or angry and suddenly in your mind someone that was once your world is like. some kind of villain out of a storybook.

and this is very very difficult to deal with and he wasn't really........ getting any help or outside people telling him that his view of paul/the beatles was being distorted. yoko was also pretty paranoid & from several sources encouraged his bitterness/paranoia (which isn't a dunk on her- I'm just a firm believer that she was a Complicated Person and villifying OR deifying is just weird and racist). not to Mention the scream therapy stuff, where I'm Pretty sure he himself has even said he was encouraged to pick apart his life and relationships and find Issues.

so you've got someone whose brain is already a goddamn game of mouse trap telling him that if he's not w paul/the beatles anymore he Has to hate him, surrounded by people encouraging that line of thought, and hounded by media asking him about it and pitting him against paul

and with that in mind, I do think it was also a bit exaggerated by the media. it was definitely encouraged, that's for sure. but even if john didn't Hate Paul, that's how it would be portrayed bc it made a more dramatic and interesting story. they'd ask him (and paul) leading questions to get the most material.

I honestly don't find it inexplicable that he'd turn on him without a "reason" so maybe my own mouse trap of a brain is part of why I disagree so much w that dominant narrative of rejection to explain it 😭 bc for me and many other bpd cunts I know it's just. it could Literally be nothing. often it's just a SENSE of rejection that will cause a split. and I'm willing to bet that their growing distance, paul pushing the band harder to work after brian died, paul not really accepting yoko and johnandyoko, the possible dying out of a sexual aspect of their relationship, paul proposing to jane & later getting with/marrying linda, paul Accepting john's ask for a divorce, paul going out and making an album on his own....... well. it's a perfect storm for my fellow bpd bitch to go "well fuck him I never loved him that guy fucking sucks and whatever he does doesn't hurt me anyway bc I don't care At All he's just the absolute worst and I can't stand him"

which of course had to be whiplash for paul. from his pov it was genuinely out of nowhere. but I will say all his comments about it and john needing to put him/the beatles aside for yoko and just..... all his quotes around john's mental health seem to be very VERY aware of all this. he knew john better than anyone & his main confusion seems to be around whether or not john ever actually loved or even liked him. which is an understandable emotional reaction. I think, though, he does show a deep understanding of john when he talks about all of this which makes me soooo :(

[dutifullylazybread]

Hi! Could I ask for hcs of Zevlor being a father figure for fem!Tav?

Absolutely! I do primarily write these lists in the second person, but if any pronouns are mentioned, I'll go ahead and use ‘she/her.’ 

The timing for this request is a bit funny to me, because the headcanon request following this is for Zevlor in a much different context. 🤣

I have a really bad habit of using the plot of BG3 as a framework for my headcanon lists, so kind of like what I did before, I have general headcanons, and then I have a scenario driven list. 

NOTE: she/her pronouns are used for Tav in this list.

Zevlor as a Father Figure for Fem!Tav

General headcanons

Zevlor was a commander who watched over plenty of young recruits. He mourned those who died and celebrated those who climbed the ranks. He acted as a mentor for many of them, but he never would have thought of himself as a father figure.

You are a bit different. 

He easily falls into the habit of asking if you have eaten or if you need something to drink.

He ultimately wants to make sure that you can survive on your own, because then he feels like he has helped you in a meaningful way.

He has a hundred hidden skills, like sewing, and plenty of patience to impart that knowledge to you. 

But he also thinks he is doing you a disservice if he doesn't teach you those skills.

So, yes, he's going to mend the tear in your cloak, but he's also going to make you follow along and mend a smaller tear.

Will grin ear to ear when you perfect a whip stitch.

Zevlor feels the most accomplished when he can teach you something, but he also has to fight the impulse to offer up useful information at every given opportunity. 

Watch him struggle to not point out forageable mushrooms.

He will try in a very roundabout way to teach you what is forageable because he will be damned if his chil—no, this young adventurer—can't feed herself.

So the day you visit him with a perfectly dressed rabbit has him tearing up.

He doesn't expect you to be a warrior like him. He would never impose the difficulties of that life on anyone. But he does want to make sure that you can defend yourself.

If you choose to pursue the life of a warrior, he'll listen to you talk about your victories and your hardships. Should you ask for advice, he will offer it.

He isn't going to be the sort of person to give you unsolicited advice (though he will feel like he is dying if he thinks he can help you work towards a solution and you don't ask).

And, perhaps because you have sought his counsel when it comes to training as a warrior, and because he has taken an interest in not only your growth as a warrior but also the social aspects, you do find it easy to confide in him.

You might initially feel bad for venting about something, but Zevlor assures you he doesn't mind.

He soon becomes your closest confidant.

He will ask if you want advice or if you just want to talk things out. But regardless, he safeguards your secrets with the devotion one can expect of a paladin.

Zevlor isn't the sort of person to outright say “I dislike this idea” or “I dislike so-and-so,” but he does that patented mouth twist/pucker when you mention said idea/person. 

“I get the sense that you don't like ___”

“Hmm. I suppose I'm not too fond of how reckless they can be. You'll have to forgive an old man for worrying.”

Also, he is absolutely, 100% the father who will say “I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed.” And if he doesn't say it, he still conveys it with the parent-patented ‘face.’

He won't lie and pretend he isn't protective of you.

If he feels that you have been wronged deeply and irreparably, it's going to take everything in him to not strike out on your behalf.

Everything.

But he also knows that he has taught you to act with a level head, and if he were to respond in a way that runs counter to what he has tried to instill in you, then what was the point?

Maybe it's because he is a Paladin of Helm, or maybe it's because he found his daughter in the last place he'd thought to look, but he wants to shield you from all harm.

He has to come to terms with the fact that he can't always protect you. And the realization nearly destroys him.

But it's in that realization that you mean so much to him that gives him pause.

And he realizes how proud he is of you, and how he wants to remain a part of your life.

Assuming that you want Zevlor to remain in your life, then he will be there for you at every single important juncture (and all of the points in between).

He's there for every heartbreak.

And he's there for every victory.

In everything but blood, he is a father to you.

He is there when you need to make home repairs, ready to offer a helping hand.

He is there at the first sign of trouble

He's there when you need to cry or be angry

And he wouldn't choose to be anywhere else

And when all is said and done, when the storms have passed and the world is quiet, he looks at you and says, “For what it's worth I'm proud of you.”

Scenario-driven Headcanons: Following Game Events - Zevlor as a Mentor and then a Father-figure

Zevlor never expected to serve as a parental figure in any capacity—least of all for an adventurer who stumbled into his path during one of the most stressful times of his life.

But something about you makes him feel paternal.

Maybe there were aspects of yourself that reminded him of when he was a newly recruited Hellrider—unsure of the world but desperate to prove himself all the same—that made him feel that he could, perhaps, act as a mentor to you.

At first, he acts as more of an advisor and a teacher. If you mention in passing that your traveling party is heading to one location or another, he’ll offer to review maps of the area with you. He has done some scouting around the Grove, so he’ll make suggestions about what to avoid and what routes were safest.

If you run any training drills, Zevlor will watch from a distance. He won’t offer feedback immediately—not unless he notices that you’re getting frustrated or that something in your technique creates a lethal opening for your foes. Otherwise, he will wait for you to ask him his thoughts. 

He’s also more than content to train with you. He’s strict, but he is a patient teacher. Though he is usually reserved and level-handed with his counsel, the one thing he will never hold back on is your form while training. If he lies to you about that, then he fears that he is sentencing you to death or a serious injury.

But as time goes on, he becomes more aware of your tells—he knows when you aren’t eating or sleeping well. And though he usually wouldn’t pester someone whose health didn’t directly impact the overall safety and well being of the other tieflings, he can’t help but worry about you. He knows that you’re stressed about something (you did come to the Grove in search of a healer, after all), but he doesn’t know what that might be.

So, initially, he might broach the topic by asking if there is enough to eat on the road. He might offer to patch up your blankets or your tent if there are any notable tears.

But if those gentle questions/offers don’t get much in the way of results, he will ask you if you are taking care of yourself.

After training with you, he’ll make a point of fetching you a bowl of stew and seeing to it that you eat a few bites.

Though making sure you get rest is trickier, he will start to ask if you are sleeping enough. He feels like he is dangerously close to crossing a line, but he is worried.

He might not fall apart if you return to the Grove injured, but he won’t tolerate you not getting immediate medical attention. 

After you defeat the goblins, Zevlor is practically beaming. He realizes that this is more than just relief over you being alive and the path being cleared for the refugees—he is proud of you.

He won’t claim to have played a role in your growth as a person. More than likely he’ll joke and say that he just made sure that you were holding the right end of a sword.

If you thank him for his guidance, he’ll refocus the discussion to your achievements.

He asks that you be careful on the road to Baldur’s Gate, and he’ll wish you safe travels.

So imagine how he feels when you find him trapped in the Mind Flayer colony.

Not only is he now dealing with the guilt over the Absolute invading his mind and having him urge the other tieflings to surrender, but now he sees you, the young adventurer who put their trust in him.

And that is enough to wreck him.

He wants to beg your forgiveness for not upholding this image of justice and valor, for perhaps going back on the morals that he conveyed to you whilst he mentored you.

If you respond with kindness, he will think he is undeserving. He will try to reject your forgiveness. But he won't deny the sense of pride that burns in his chest. He may have not played a role in your upbringing, but to know that he helped guide a warrior who possessed a moral compass that allowed for forgiveness? Especially for him? It makes him want to try again. 

If you respond from a place of hurt/betrayal, he will accept how you feel. He won't flinch away if you berate him or yell at him. After what happened in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, how can he? He is now an Oath Breaker. He has lost everything. Perhaps he should have seen that he would fail as a mentor too.

But he wants to try again. He wants to redeem himself. It might not be possible, but he wants to strive to fill the image that you created of him in your mind. He might never attain it, but he's going to do his damnedest.

Regardless of how you respond, Zevlor implores you to take care. He doesn't care what happens to him, but the thought of you dying rattles him.

After Ketheric is defeated and everyone gathers in the throne room, Zevlor will observe from the shadows. 

He doesn't make himself known to anyone. He just wanted to make sure that you were alive before he moved on.

And with the knowledge that you and your companions survived, he departs for Baldur's Gate. 

He is proud of you. And he is so, so scared. 

So, within Act 3, as far as I have observed/read, Zevlor doesn't reappear until the final battle (assuming you saved him in the Mind Flayer colony).

But I'm taking some liberties here.

After what happened in the Shadow-Cursed Lands, Zevlor is too ashamed to be around you.

But he is also so, so worried. 

He knows you're a capable warrior. He spent weeks training you. 

But suddenly that training doesn't seem like enough. Why couldn't he have urged you to stay for a few more hours that one day? He might have noticed that your swing was a bit too wide or that you left your right side vulnerable when you feinted that one time. Why the hells didn't he take the time to help you perfect your technique?

Perfection might not save you from all threats, but it gave you a better chance of survival.

Needless to say, he lays awake most nights gripped with anxiety.

Are you actually alright? Have you been injured?

He doesn't have a lot of money to his name, but he spends what he does have reading the newspaper, coveting whatever tidbits of information about you is printed that day.

He quietly celebrates your victories, and he mourns your losses from afar.

He decides one evening to toast one of your wins at the Elfsong.

And he sees you. You're laughing and joking with your friends. Despite everything that has happened. You're bruised and exhausted, but you're smiling in that moment.

He didn't intend on running into you, and he immediately makes himself scarce.

He ducks into an alleyway and lets himself cry. 

That adventurer, so bright and full of potential, is now a hero. 

He's scared, he's proud, and seeing you stealing a moment of joy for yourself before diving back into the fray has him simultaneously laughing and sobbing.

While he had been hesitant to make himself known to you before, he commits to standing with you at the end.

So he focuses on healing his body and honing his strength. He might renew his vows as a paladin.

But regardless, he is there when you enter the High Hall, and regardless of how you two parted in the Mind Flayer colony, he pledges his strength to you.

He might not be at your side in the final battle, but he keeps the enemy off of your back. 

He fights like the Hellrider Commander he has always been. 

And he watches you defeat the Netherbrain.

He isn't the first to congratulate you. No, he doesn't want to interfere in the moment that you share with your companions.

But he is there at the end, brimming with pride. 

Before you leave to join your companions at the Elfsong, the two of you sit down on the edge of the jetty, looking out on the Chionthar. 

The battle is over. You've won.

Zevlor might not hug you. He might not tell you that you are the child he never thought he'd have.

But he tells you how proud he is of you. And, should you be open to it, he'd like to stay in your life. Be that in the smallest of capacities, where you and he occasionally get a drink and you catch him up on your life, or in a larger capacity, where you seek him out for counsel and training, he wants to see where life will take you.

Should you be in agreement, Zevlor is a very consistent presence in your life. 

At first, he is there when you call on him.

But at a certain point, he just gets a sense for when you need him there.

He never wants to barge in, but he'll make excuses to swing by and check on you.

Initially, he thought he would always be a mentor to you. And to a certain degree, he still is.

He never expected to be the shoulder you leaned on while you cried. 

He never expected that you would make a point to celebrate his birthday with him.

He most certainly didn't expect you to consider his input on life-changing decisions. 

But there he is, rubbing circles into your back as you weep over the loss of a companion.

There he is, confused and dewy-eyed as you push a gift into his hands and wish him a happy birthday.

There he is, watching you accomplish the impossible.

He might not have thought he'd ever be a father, let alone a father figure.

But he is more than content to fill that role for you.

[bruhstories]

anything for you

summary: tom loses his virginity on his eighteenth birthday pairing: tom riddle x afab!oc (both of age) warnings: loss of male virginity, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, curse words, descriptions of oc's hair and eye colours w/c: exactly 4,999 words!

a/n: i just needed to get this rubbish out of my head. made up an oc just because i wanted to write in 3rd person so y'all can pretend it's y/n for all i care lol. crossposted on ao3

Tom had never been the type of person to concern himself with desires of the flesh. While most of his peers turned into hormonal teenagers over summer and experimented with women, or men, Tom preferred to stimulate his mind. That did not mean that he couldn't appreciate beauty. He looked at women the way one would look at a sculpture — with awe and desire, but without touching. 

Yes, Tom Riddle was a virgin. An eighteen-year old virgin surrounded by horny teens bordering adulthood. Whenever his friends (they weren't friends) tried to set him up for a date, he would never show up, despite knowing that there were lots of young women at Hogwarts infatuated with him. No, Tom had other pressing matters on his mind, goals and ambitions he couldn't afford to lose by being distracted by some scatterbrained girl.

However, to say that Tom wasn't interested in a certain girl would be a lie. She was exquisite and extraordinary. A pureblood with the face of an angel and the mind of a devil, who looked like a woman but thought like a man. Valerie Rosier, with eyes as black as Tom's soul, captivated the young wizard. He wasn't enamoured with her, for he couldn't feel love, but there was a certain obsession Tom felt for the witch, courtesy of his mother. Only he didn't need to use any spells or potions to compel Valerie to love him, because she was already a devoted follower.

Fixated on blood purity, on power and immortality, she was the perfect partner in crime, as muggles liked to say, and she was the perfect woman to take Tom's last shred of innocence. The wizard wanted to experience the pleasures of the flesh before splitting his soul in so many pieces, for he was afraid he couldn't feel a thing if he lost his virginity after creating his Horcruxes. Granted, he had committed his first murder a year before, but he was still human — weak and mortal.

Tom didn't have many friends. He didn't believe in the concept of friendship, but Valerie was his closest confidante. She was the only one who truly believed in him, who encouraged him to become stronger, smarter. She was willing to commit all kinds of despicable atrocities for him, because behind every powerful Dark Wizard was a cunning, conniving Dark Witch.

It was his eighteenth birthday when Tom asked Valerie to find him in his separate dormitory, a privilege of being Head Boy, for a chat. And while the witch cared little for celebrations, she did bring Tom a gift. A beautiful wand handle, with snakes carved in the dark, almost black wood, and small emeralds in place of their eyes.

"A present? For me?" He was not surprised, despite the puzzled look on his face.

"You deserve more than that." Valerie combed through her silky black locks.

In the dim light of his bedroom, she looked almost ethereal, like a phantom coming to haunt him. And she did haunt his mind a lot lately. Tom inspected the gift, his long slender fingers probing the intricate carvings of the handle. He'd never received a present for his birthday. In a different life, he'd probably be happy, give her a hug and thank her. Not in this life.

"I need to ask you something. A favour of sorts." Tom placed the gift on his nightstand. 

It's not as if he didn't appreciate it, but he didn't need it. And he doesn't want what he doesn't need.

"Anything." Valerie rushed to speak, and Tom enjoyed her eagerness. He only hoped she was eager to please him in more ways than one.

"You know what I intend to do after graduation." He eyed her and she looked at him with fire in her eyes.

If there was one thing Tom truly liked about Valerie, it was her understanding of him without needing more words. She was a competent witch — if he told her to do something, she would do it without questioning him. She remembered everything he said, every detail of every plan, unlike Malfoy or Flint, who forgot even the simplest instructions.

Valerie nodded — Tom would seek immortality, and she would be by his side to aid him. She was wickedly fascinated by that subject, despite being aware that wizards and witches lived a much longer life than humans. It wasn't enough.

"I want to experience one thing beforehand." Tom calmly said, disturbed by how tight her skirt was. Every time she crossed one leg over the other, the skirt would just go higher up her thighs. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear before shaking the animalistic thought out of his head.

She knew.

From how he looked at her, Valerie knew what he meant, and she was ready to give herself to him. She had never been a saint, losing her virginity to the Lestrange boy in Year 5, then fooling around with either him or Avery, or both, in Year 6. And Tom knew that. He didn't mind it, as long as she kept them focused, but he couldn't deny a slight jealousy. He wished he was her first, but was somewhat grateful he wasn't, because that meant Valerie had much more experience, and it wouldn't be awkward. 

Of course, Tom read about sex. Curiosity boiled in his veins, that was both his biggest quality, and his worst flaw. He even took it so far as to read muggle books on the topic. But it was all very scientific, an encyclopaedia of reproduction, with no regards to pleasure. Tom hoped he would understand why his little gang was so distracted. 

"What will you have me do?" Valerie crossed her legs again, and again that damned skirt moved up.

Oh, she knew exactly how to phrase her sentences and questions. She didn't ask what he wanted, or what the favour was, but instead what he wanted her to do, like a good, obedient slave. Tom adored that about her, because unlike his mindless peers, she followed him, while also keeping her personality and independence. It was as if whatever he wanted her to do, she wanted to do as well. Like two different people with the same soul and brain.

With knitted brows, Tom pondered over his choice of words. He didn't want her to feel like a cheap whore, although he had a hunch she liked feeling that way, and that thought both bothered and excited him.

"I want you to be my first intimate partner." He finally said, picking his words very carefully. "Before I achieve immortality, I would like to experience this human feeling first."

She always imagined him to be dominant and in control, and so it was a bit of a shock for Valerie to realise that Tom never had sex before. No, she half-expected him to be a womaniser, to flirt with girls and get what he wanted, maybe even seduce muggles before killing them. 

"As you wish." Valerie tugged at the hem of her skirt before pulling it up, but Tom stopped her.

"No, not like that." His hand rushed to hers, stopping her from doing anything. "There was a term I read about in a muggle book… foreplay, I believe it was called."

"Ah!" She grinned at him, already feeling her cunt hot. "My apologies, I thought you wanted to get it over and done with."

"I'd like to be entertained first." Tom removed his hands from her body, awkwardly expecting something, he just didn't know what exactly. 

"Have you kissed someone before?" Valerie asked, loosening her tie only a little. She felt very, very hot.

"Once. I can't remember her name." He admitted without a shred of remorse. It wasn't a particularly significant moment in his life, and the kiss itself wasn't memorable. 

"Then, may I kiss you?" 

Tom nodded. He felt her move closer to him and instinctively closed his eyes. Valerie placed a shy kiss on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth before finally crushing his lips under hers. And Tom could feel his temperature raise when she feverishly pried open his mouth with her tongue. He admitted to himself that his first kiss paled in comparison to this one. He even enjoyed it when she took his bottom lip between her teeth.

Tom couldn't stop his hands when they began to freely roam her back, wrapping an arm around her waist while hers slithered under his robe, pushing it off his shoulders. And he didn't protest when Valerie straddled him, desperately kissing him and grinding against the growing bulge in his trousers.

So that was foreplay, a sort of preparation for the upcoming intimate moment. He understood now, and he unclasped her robe, letting it silently fall behind her, on the floor. Valerie's hands worked on untying his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. Tom did the same, a little too eager for his own taste. He didn't enjoy giving in to earthly pleasures, but he knew he could do it with her. She wasn't like the rest of them. She never judged him, never questioned him, never doubted him.

Valerie finally leaned back, allowing her and Tom some time to breathe. But his breathing stopped for a second when he saw her white lace bra displayed in front of his eyes. It looked expensive, and it probably was considering how wealthy her family was. He wondered if it matched the rest of her undergarments. 

"May I touch you?" Tom found himself asking. Although he didn't normally ask for permission, he found it proper to do so in that context. 

"Please, please do touch me!" She whined with ardour.

He nodded and clumsily felt her shoulders and upper arms, as if he didn't dare to move any lower than that. Valerie chuckled at his attempt, placing her hand on his.

"Like this." She whispered, pressing his hand down her collarbone and guiding it lower, until his fingers brushed over her still clothed chest. "Take it off, Tom, please." 

How dare she tell him what to do? And worse, why was he so compelled to listen? He wasn't under the Imperius Curse, nor did he ingest Amortentia, yet there he was, hunched over her shoulder, unclasping her bra. She smelled so good, like roses and lavender, and he buried his nose in her hair.

There was no spell — he truly wanted her.

Once her shirt and bra were off, tossed somewhere in his room, Tom looked at her bare chest in awe. He had only seen naked women in paintings and sculptures, and they were beautiful, but she was superior. 

He didn't ask for permission this time, instead he took her nipples in his fingers, pinching and twisting them with curiosity. Every action of his earned a reaction from her, and Valerie didn't shy away from moaning and wriggling in his lap. And by the look on her face, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right. 

In exchange, she took his shirt off, still grinding against his clothed cock for an ounce of friction, and kissed his neck, sometimes digging her teeth into his porcelain skin. Tom growled. He had never made such a sound before, but he enjoyed it every time she bit him, leaving him wanting more, he just didn't know what yet.

"I want, oh- I want to pleasure you. Please, may I?" Valerie said against his skin, and he nodded. Tom didn't know exactly what she meant, but he assumed it was time for sexual intercourse.

She got up from his lap and kneeled down on the floor, between his legs. He cautiously watched her every move, because this wasn't in the books, and when Valerie took notice of the confused look on his face, she smiled. 

"Do you trust me?" Her voice was soothing, yet he felt like he was being lured in a trap.

Tom didn't trust anyone but himself, but curiosity got the better of him again, and he nodded. With his consent, Valerie proceeded to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his trousers. He was already so hard, she licked her lips in anticipation, ready to devour him, and while the lust in her eyes didn't make him afraid, it did make him feel slightly on edge, because he didn't know what she was about to do. And he didn't like not knowing. 

Valerie pulled down his trousers and underwear, marvelling at the size of his cock. How was he so big, yet so inexperienced? Clearly he didn't know what advantage he possessed with that instrument of both pleasure, and torture. Tom only realised what was about to happen when she parted her luscious lips open, and a sudden feeling of disgust flushed through his body. She really was a cheap whore, he thought, until she took him in her mouth, and his muscles suddenly relaxed. His disgust was quickly, too quickly, replaced by pure pleasure. 

Bobbing her head up and down, she dug her fingernails into his thighs, clearly bothered by the strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Tom felt the need to help her, and he gathered her hair into a bunch in his hand, holding it back while she sucked him so good. To his surprise, Valerie moaned against his cock, enjoying the act herself. What pleasure could she possibly feel if she was the one pleasing him? It angered him, made his blood boil, and in a fit of irrational rage, he pushed her head down, hitting the back of her throat with the tip of his cock.

He held her like that for some time, until he realised she was choking on his cock, her fingernails drawing blood from his skin. Tom released her, shocked by how weak humans were. There was a newfound power in him, power that he held over her. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and she coughed and gasped for air. Was she crying? No. Someone like her couldn't cry. They were tears of bliss.

"Again!" Valerie greedily took him in her mouth.

"Fuck." Tom whispered. He wasn't one to cuss, but it was the first word that came into his mind when he felt her tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. "Ugh, you're a filthy whore, aren't you?" He looked down at her, revelling in the power imbalance. 

She was a sight for sore eyes, half-naked, between his legs and with his cock in her mouth. And Valerie wouldn't have it any other way. Granted, she'd been fucked better by other boys, but to have Tom Riddle all to herself was a privilege. He had ambitions others could only dream of, and she wanted to be by his side when he achieved them. She wanted him to succeed, to purge the wizarding world of its stain.

Looking up at him with doe eyes, Valerie leaned back, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. She spat on his cock, and Tom scoffed at the vulgar gesture, yet he still didn't protest, nor did he want her to stop. Embarrassingly, he could feel himself closer to his climax.

"Not just any whore." Valerie barked back. "Your whore."

There it was again, the way she got under his skin with honeyed words and pleading eyes. But she meant it. She didn't want anyone but him. She wanted to belong to him.

"Then suck." Tom demanded, and she obeyed.

He couldn't tell where all that confidence came from. Normally he would manipulate or blackmail people to do what he wanted, but perhaps adrenaline kicked in, because pleasure and anger bubbled inside of him, and without a warning, he came into her mouth, panting and sweating, despite not moving a muscle.

Tom watched her with an arched brow, watched her swallow every drop of his seed, and he wondered what he tasted like. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and crushed her lips in a needy kiss. 

Bitter. Everything about him was bitter, and while he scrunched his nose at the taste, she loved it.

It wasn't what Tom expected, and couldn't deny that he thought he'd last longer than that. He wasn't ashamed, but rather disappointed in himself. 

"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself before carrying on." Valerie nonchalantly said, as if she didn't just have his cock in her mouth.

"Carry on?" Tom spoke without thinking, intrigued by her. She truly was a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

"Do you not wish to carry on?" She asked, almost offended. 

He placed his thumb and index finger on his chin, deep in thought. Of course he wanted to carry on, but he couldn't be desperate. Tom had to choose his words carefully, he couldn't let her have the upper hand. Valerie had already demonstrated that she wouldn't betray him long before this moment, but one could never be too sure.

"Very well." He finally said. "What shall we do, then? It will take some time for me to… recover."

It was her turn to ponder over his question, head slightly tilted like a confused dog. Then she smiled, and Tom knew that smile all too well. It meant she had a twisted idea brewing in her mind.

"Would you like to touch me? For scientific purposes, I mean." Valerie got up from the floor, stretching her legs.

"Scientific purposes?" He repeated. The books never mentioned anything about touching a woman. "Elaborate."

"Well," she began, lifting her skirt enough to expose her thigh-high stocking and garterbelt, "women do enjoy sex. Men don't like to talk about that, they want to keep us pure and virginal."

Ah! It finally clicked that he read something about a bundle of nerves called the clitoris, and that it can be stimulated. He watched her remove her stocking, and only then did Tom realise he was about to see her fully naked. There was very little left for his imagination, and his flaccid cock twitched. Perhaps he didn't need as much time as he thought. 

"I suppose I might find myself in a situation where I would have to please women." Tom nodded. "Very well, teach me."

It bothered Valerie to hear that, for she hoped she would be his only lover, but of course, Tom would become invincible, he could have anyone he wanted, and she had to come to terms with that. She fluffed the pillow on his bed and sat down, back against it.

"Women like tenderness, they are romantic beings. They like to feel loved, even if they aren't." Valerie explained. "Our bodies work differently when we aren't coerced to be intimate. That's what foreplay is for."

"I see." Tom watched her get comfortable on his bed.

"Go on, touch me. I shall let you know if you're on the right track, but you'll probably know from how I act." She bit her lower lip in anticipation. 

Tom was clever enough to know that he shouldn't violently grab her body, although there was a voice in his head that told him she might like it. He ignored the voice, and placed a kiss on her shoulder, lying next to her. His fingers ghosted over her abdomen, moving up and down, as if he didn't want to let her know where it would go next. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and Tom took it as a sign of doing the right thing, before he cupped her breasts with both of his hands. He froze, because his instinct told him to do something he wasn't sure was proper.

"Don't stop." Valerie assured him, as if reading her mind, and Tom gave in to his instinct, taking one of her hard nipples in his mouth. 

She arched her back, and he finally knew what she meant by what she said. Her body responded to his touches, and again, his cock twitched. Tom was surprisingly enjoying seeing her wriggle and writhe under him, and he took it a step further by moving his hand down her body, to her thigh, pushing it onto the mattress to spread her legs. He didn't want to seem eager, but his own body betrayed him when he felt himself growing harder.

Tom moved his hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where he stopped to pull down her skirt and underwear. He didn't care anymore if it matched her bra.

"It's alright if you want to look." She purred, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and shifted his weight to take a good look at her, and she was divine. Legs spread, she didn't have a single hair on her cunt, and Tom was dumbfounded. She found his curiosity amusing, and she sat up to kiss him. He kissed her back with more passion than before, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed perfect, he just couldn't bring himself to ever love her. She knew, and she was fine with that.

"Use your fingers." She instructed him.

With his newfound confidence and passion, Tom grazed over her slit with his fingertips, marvelling at just how hot she was to the touch. He even wondered if she had a fever before sliding two fingers past her folds. The intrusion made her cunt clench around his fingers, and Tom's breath got caught in his throat when he realised she would clench like that around his cock. She was wet, hot and velvety, and it was a feeling he had never experienced before.

"Oh, fuck, just like that!" Valerie grabbed the sheets in her fists when he moved his fingers in and out of her aching cunt. 

It was extraordinary to hear her moan and groan, to watch her roll her eyes and arch her back, all because of him. And Tom couldn't get over how wet she was. He read about it, about how women naturally produce a lubricant, and it truly was fascinating to experience this first-hand. The more she chanted his name, the more Tom's cock hardened, and he was ready to give in to temptation. He pulled his fingers out, and he was fixated on tasting her. Would she taste bitter, just like him?

Curiosity was in his nature, and sometimes he couldn't fight it. Tom popped his index finger in his mouth, and Valerie was stunned to see him taste her slick. She was sweet, like nectar, and he wanted more. She knew he wanted more by the look in his eyes, predatory and obsessive and downright deranged.

"Tom." Valerie propped herself on her elbow and squeezed her thighs together, wanting to talk some sense into him.

"You did it to me, allow me to return the favour." He said, knowing exactly what she was thinking. 

"It's not that I don't want it." She told him, and that made him even more eager to devour her cunt. "But I don't deserve it."

"That's ridiculous." Tom scoffed.

"I am beneath you, Tom. You are on a path to become the greatest wizard of all time. You can't be doing these degrading things." Valerie gasped when he forced open her legs.

"It's still for scientific purposes." He sneered at her. "And you are right, I am on a path to become the greatest dark wizard of all time. So, you shouldn't be disobeying me."

Valerie mentally scolded herself for even daring to talk back to him. He was right, he should take whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to taste her, then so be it. Apologies spilled from her lips, and she leaned back on the pillow while Tom forced open her legs and buried his face between them. He didn't care about gently touching her anymore, he was far too hungry for such formalities. 

Pressing his tongue against her slit, Tom lazily dragged it up, pushing one finger into her, and she arched her back, muttering a string of obscene words she knew he didn't like. But at that moment, in that context, he didn't want her to shut up. Her reaction made him lap at her cunt, pumping his finger in and out of her until her legs trembled. Then he added another finger, and he curled them up, feeling her velvety walls clench around them.

"Tom, I- fuck! I'm so close!" Valerie cried out, grateful for the silencing charm he placed in his room beforehand. 

Then he stopped.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped and pulled his fingers out, watching her wriggle in anguish and anger. Now that was power, Tom thought. To have her cry tears of pain, although he hadn't hurt her in the slightest, that made him feel good.

"No, you're not finishing like that." He said, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her up from his bed.

Confused, and slightly annoyed, Valerie allowed herself to be dragged to the velvet sofa in his bedroom, where he sat down. He was ready. 

"I want you in my lap." Tom leaned back, getting comfortable. 

"You want me to ride you?" She arched a brow, not questioning him, rather asking for permission. 

"Is that what it's called?" He scoffed at the term. How vulgar. "Yes, I want you to ride me." Tom assured her.

"Very well." Valerie nodded, climbing into his lap, knees to the sides of his hips. 

She kissed him first, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hot cunt against his cock. Grinding against it, she rolled her hips, doing everything in her power to make him feel good. And Tom was feeling good, but he was also impatient. His hand slithered up her thigh, over her firm ass, before resting on the small of her back.

"You're stalling." He said, venom dripping down his tongue. 

"I merely want to treat you like a king." Valerie whispered into his ear, pressing her hips harder against his. "You deserve to be adored, worshiped."

"Is that so?" Tom almost didn't believe her.

"I want to be there when you achieve greatness." She was wet, coating his cock in her slick without even having her in him.

"I suppose you proved yourself competent enough." He shrugged. It was his way of complimenting her.

Valerie took the backhanded compliment with a smile, knowing that no one ever got so close to him as she did. She even dared to think she was one of his favourites. 

"I want to be yours, my lord." She said, finally sliding his cock inside, sinking lower in his lap.

Oh, it felt divine, delicious, delirious. She was tight, perfectly taking him in, and Tom couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. It brought a grin to her beautiful face. Valerie placed her hands on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, rolling her hips, whimpering and chanting his name like a prayer. Her eyes were filled with tears of bliss, pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. And her face was something that would forever be ingrained on his retina.

"So big!" She cried out, feeling his cock stretch her out in ways other men could only dream of. "So good."

Tom wasn't someone who expressed his feelings verbally, but even he groaned, digging his fingers in the plush of her hips. She fucked him like it was her last day on Earth, pressing her chest against his, and Tom took the opportunity to hold her in place. Valerie didn't protest, letting him do as he pleased, which was to thrust into her relentlessly and violently. It was a good thing she sucked his cock before, because he could feel himself lasting longer.

"Tell me." Tom said, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. "Tell me you want me."

"I do!" Valerie said without hesitation. "I want you for eternity. Oh, fuck, I need you!"

He enjoyed hearing those words, to feel adored, and he realised that it was better for some people to love him rather than fear him. Or at least one person. One was enough, as long as she would always be there for him.

Tom shifted his weight and pushed Valerie on the sofa, so he could be on top of her, his cock still deep in her cunt. He found her eyes, and they were honest. He knew she wouldn't lie. She couldn't lie to him, despite her filling people's heads with sweet nothings. But everything she told him was the purest truth.

"Fuck-" Tom growled, still in shock at how well she took him. No, she was made for him.

"Please don't ever leave me." Valerie said, completely vulnerable and to his mercy.

"I won't." He didn't lie. While he hated to admit it, he needed her just as much, albeit not showing it. 

She was useful to him, and that was the reason he needed her, but Tom also didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. Because behind every dark wizard should be an even darker witch, twisted and deranged, just like him.

Valerie wrapped her legs around his waist, breath hitching and heart racing in her chest. She was close, and she was determined to finish this time. Tom couldn't think anymore, not when bliss took over, and he pressed his forehead against hers, legs quaking, while he frantically and brutally thrusted into her.

He finished inside of her, and she came on his cock, and they both felt like there was molten lava in their veins. Bodies burning, muscles aching, they laid there together, with Tom weighing down on her. He was heavier than he looked, but it comforted her. It was safe to say that Tom was a changed man after that night. Same goals, same ambitions, but with a loyal woman that would kill for him in the blink of an eye.

"I want you to break your soul into a million pieces for me." He said, pushing strands of hair out of her face.

"Anything for you, my lord.”

[yandere-wishes]

Yandere! Darth Maul Headcanons (Ft. Darth Talon)

Author Note: I'm so sorry this is definitely not my best work😭😭 I just really needed to get this out of my head. Inspired by this video

Warnings: Spicy but absolutely no smut, odd take on poly relationships, Talon and reader have a sisterly bond...sorta.

Thinking about being Maul's little darling. His sweet little princess. But also being Darth Talon's co-darling. The innocent little doll ensnared between two big scary Sith lords. 

Maul constantly has the two of you seated pretty on his lap. As he lounges on the throne of Mandalore. Talon is always embellished in tight black fabrics that do little to cover her impressive physic. She knows they're to Maul's delight. Always so eager to indulge her master. 

Yet when it comes to you Maul insists you wear long ravishing velvet dresses. Adorned with delicate jewels to augment your beauty. It makes you feel fragile, like a porcelain doll fabricated simply for his pleasure. Still, you dare not protest. 

You and Talon trail kisses down Maul's chest. Occasionally biting his lips, begging for a kiss. You feel his emotions in crashing waves, not love, not reverence. Rather something more akin to pride. An all-consuming darkness that floods the soul, overwhelming every other emotion. Maybe it's the closest to an "affectionate" sentiment that Maul can express. 

Maul uses both the force and his fingers to trace the contours of your bodies. Memorizing each dip and curve. Ever so intimately familiar with each scar. You both shiver as he runs his claws up and down your spins. Perfectly dividing his attention across the both of you.

You've come to cherish the feeling of his horns when they nick at the skin of your neck. constantly mesmerized by the small puncture holes that litter your throat amongst a plethora of love bites. 

Talon's older, more experienced. She's like an older sister constantly looking out for you. She's eager to show you how to please Maul. Reminding you of where he likes to be bitten, where he likes to be kissed. He demands submission but loves when you put up a fight. 

You've started to treasure her presence, enjoying having someone who understands almost every fiber of your life. It's almost like having a sister and an anam cara. You love the way her hand fits so perfectly in yours, fingers entangled much like your souls.

She's the one who told you about Maul's insecurities. About how his robotic legs play testament to failures he refuses to relinquish. 

That night you make a show of kissing stars into his cyberntics. tracing your fingers over the prosthetics as you sing his praises. Talon follows your lead, impressed with your acumen. Delighted in how you turn her master's sorrow into a source of his pleasure. 

Maul seldom says he' loves you'. In hindsight, that night may have been the first time you've heard such words escape his perfect lips. 

Maul loves to inflict pain on both of you claiming you in the way of deep cuts and bruises. Your blood between his teeth and your pulse in his palm.

You always leave weak kisses on Maul's arm when he chokes you. Your devotion soothes his rage. Yet he's never given up an opportunity to throw you around like a rag doll. 

You're the only one ever permitted to watch Maul give Talon her sith tattoos. It's a hallowed rite, a secret shared between master and apprentice. Yet they both adore you so much, wanting to incorporate you into their rituals. 

Both Maul and Talon refuse to train you. Neither in the way of the Sith nor in the art of lightsaber. Both master and apprentice fear the harsh ways of the Sith would simply break a fragile doll like you beyond repair. 

Sometimes Maul gets busy, too caught up in ruling Mand'alor, too preoccupied to even remember he has two lovers awaiting him. 

You start to lose your mind on such days, having long since lost your identity. You merely exist to serve him, only ever alive in the presence of your lord. It's hard to know what to do when his ethos is faded, too far for you to reach. When he isn't an inch away from you. Leaving shallow kisses along your skin.

Talon tries to comfort you, her mind may be tattered yet she still regains some sense of self-worth. She hugs you close, rubbing soothing circles on your back. She tells you tales of when she was a child before her apprenticeship began. 

Sometimes she recounts stories of when Maul had been merely a boy, a small child still too scrawny to wield a lightsaber. The tales seem fictitious, bordering on sacrilege. You shudder to think of Maul as anything less than immaculate, anything less than eternal.

Eventually, the two of you just barge into the throne room. Ignoring the officials or higher-ranking aristocrats may be present. You simply curl up in Maul's lap, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

"Want you, want you" you whine desperately, loud enough for only his ears to hear. You're utterly anguished for comfort, for affection, for him. Talon rubs your shoulder, eyes looking at Maul in yearning. 

Maul rolls his eyes, deducing it best to scold the two of you in private. He simply pats your head and embraces you closer to his chest. Leaving a chaste kiss on your knuckles. 

In the end, the two of you are his and only his. His two precious darlings. There's nothing in this universe Maul wouldn't do for the two of you. 

[isa-ghost]

Perhaps some headcanons about qPhil and the hardcore deities?

YESSS

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Okay so like, with all of these keep in mind my current personal headcanon/theory is that qPhil is hcPhil with his memory lost/altered by The Federation prior to arriving on the island. However it is that they got him, they wiped/suppressed his memory of his past just like other islanders and clipped his wings.

So TECHNICALLY these are hcPhil headcanons but also qPhil.

He's ofc closest with Rose. Unless you count Kristin as a hc deity. Rose was extremely fond and pleased of the way Phil would come along and take it upon himself to restore or touch up the builds that document the history of the gods, purely for fun and curiosity's sake. His love for the beauty of it all attracted her.

He's next closest with Ocean Overlord, though you'd assume otherwise because OO almost never personally connects with Phil in any way. No spiritual or supernatural signs, no personal talks or showing himself. (It's because the fool is sleeping or off catering to his whims). But Phil fishes a lot, and speaking as someone who practices witchcraft, you don't need to formally work with or worship a god to please them with the things you do. Fishing would be considered a devotional act to OO from a Pagan pov, so the fact that Phil does it so often and also cleaned up some of Flowerfall for him and Rose means OO likes Phil a lot. He's "a funky lil bird dude."

Phil is next closest with Blaze. She's also very hands off but deliberately so compared to OO. However, she still has a deep respect for Phil despite her distance and he admires the shit out of her in return. He thinks she's an absolute badass. His skills and wit impress her and his frequent visits to her domain and his love for her servants He & She amuse her. She's never seen a human so set on visiting the Nether frequently, let alone her domain specifically. Also he won't hesitate to take down a Piglin, and that's always a plus to her. (His gold farm pleases her deeply).

And ofc, of the deities we know of, he's least close with Ender King. Phil isn't exactly sure what specific event kicked off the way things are now, but EK just generally isn't something you want to mess with no matter what. EK probably disliked Phil from the get-go because he has friendly relations with the other gods, who all contributed to his failure & death. On top of that, the cave he rots in under Endlantis is like one of those haunted places you just Do Not Ever Go because it's very likely you'll go home with something attached to you (and Phil did). EK picked up on Phil's penchant for stealing & collecting cool things and how strong he can be (he has to be, he's a survivalist!) & did exactly that. He's been cooking on the potential vessel stuff since the day he met Phil.

Rose is the one who's always left him a sign of some sort that would confirm his assumptions about the history of builds and their relation to the gods. She never left him direct communication like she does with the books on QI bc she never intended to get that direct, but it's much harder to leave him subtler hints in a totally different world so she speaks to him via books instead.

I've said this before somewhere but basically the reason Rose (& EK, but him for malicious reasons) reached out to Phil on QI was not only to warn him of & protect him from EK but also to try and trigger Phil's memories of his life in the world he's really from and break him free of The Federation's meddling with his memory. She's had little success so far, kinda timed things badly given that the Feds had JUST locked him in the Birdhouse and fucked with his sense of reality. And EK kinda made that worse.

Ender King chose to officially act on his desire to possess Phil outside of the hc world because a) the other gods can't protect him as easily on QI and b) Phil himself is also nerfed and therefore easier to fuck with (thanks Federation <3)

Even now that EK's attempts to possess him are done with (for now), Rose is continuing to protect Phil and his family. She intervened when the Purgatory workers attacked, she'll intervene on other threats. But she only can if he's not around others. She's trying to keep herself secret from anyone outside the Death Family. Though she wouldn't be object to Fit knowing since he knows about EK. And she likes Bagi too. It's just easier to not start making tons of exceptions. Though overall, Phil is the one who's more strict about keeping the deities secret. Rose is more lax about it but acknowledges it's easier this way.

Part of why EK is the lil asshole that he is is bc he Knows Phil and Rose want the gods kept secret so he went out of his way to be like HEEEEY THIS IDIOT BIRD HAS A SECRET OOOO and intentionally made it look like it was a dark secret at that. Sewing mistrust among Phil's allies further isolates him and makes him an even easier target. : )

Phil has a feeling Blaze wants nothing to do with QI (and he's right). Any contact from her will be done begrudgingly and probably not until the Nether is opened bc otherwise she has to not only realm hop but world hop and that is more trouble than it's worth in her eyes.

Phil's honestly surprised he hasn't heard anything from Ocean Overlord while on QI yet. Especially post-reset. He lives beachfront more or less, he fishes a fuckton as of late, he goes on boating adventures often. And QI's whole shtick is that it's a vacation island or whatever, which is like OO's entire vibe. Phil's a bit baffled.

Semi-related, Phil's insistent that OO isn't JUST a bit of a sleepy or lazy idiot. That's a fucking god. Who rules the ocean. The unforgiving motherfucking ocean. He truths OO as a crouching tiger hidden dragon in terms of power. He thinks it just takes A LOT to piss OO off. (*side-eyes Ruthlessness from EPIC the Musical and wrings my little gremlin hands maniacally*)

Phil isn't entirely sure of the inter-deity relationships/dynamics and leaves it at "it's none of his business." They can tell him or imply it on their own time, if ever. All he knows is that Rose/Blaze/OO strongly dislike EK and that's all that matters to him. Anything else is assumption on his part and he's just Not gonna do that.

If he didn't want to avoid being asked 9487385728 questions from his friends, he'd probably have lil altars of some sort for Rose, Blaze, OO, and Kristin to honor them. And they'd maybe have an easier time communicating with him through them.

He's been wondering if/when the other deities reach out to him on QI if they'll ever make lil domains or something the way Rose has made her Sanctuary

[astarlightmonbebe]

it's easy to read the situation between li tongguang, ruyi, and yuanzhou as a love triangle on a superficial level, but looking even one step further, it's clear that there's no triangle about it. li tongguang is obsessed with ren xin; ning yuanzhou is devoted to ren ruyi. ltg's obsession is fervent and all consuming, but it's not devotion. like ruyi herself notes, his feelings to her are on the basis of her as a mother figure in his life, as a replacement for what he never received from his mother. is there an element of romantic/sexual love/desire to it? maybe. more likely he's deluded himself into thinking that, because the truth is, it's doubtful that ltg even understands what love is (platonic, filial, familial, romantic, all of the above, etc), because he has no basis for understanding. ruyi's teachings and actions towards him are the closest thing he has to hold up as an example. what he wants is ren xin, is a replica of the master he had. he doesn't want ruyi, because he doesn't actually care about ruyi. therefore, he doesn't care if she's sad, angry, mad; he just can't bear her 'abandoning' him. we saw this way back when she first meet and left him, both at thirteen and seventeen. although he distrusts her first, she saves his life and cares for him in the way no one else has, hence her first being raised on a platform in his mind. when she leaves for good, ending their master-disciple relationship/training, even though it's for official business and she's not abandoning him, in his mind that's exactly what it is. so now that she's in his life again, he won't let her leave again. he was powerless before, a child with no proper name, but now he's a recognized member of the imperial family, a man who can meet her as 'equals' (even when that's far from the truth). as a child, he could only cling to her legs and beg her, but now he has the power to keep her by his side. it's telling that when he finally gets confirmation of her identity, it's not ning yuanzhou he seeks to harm (even though he detests him and their relationship), but yang ying. yang ying is ruyi's new disciple, and as ltg doesn't know she's a woman, he only sees her as his direct replacement.

ning yuanzhou, on the other hand, is devoted to ruyi. he wants to build a new life and future with her, instead of slotting her into a spot in the life he already has. he's someone who accompanies her on walks and makes her midnight snacks, who holds her when she needs to be held and lets her go when she needs to do things on her own. when she speaks her mind, he listens, even when it makes him discontent/it's not what he wanted/wants to hear. he sees her unabashedly as his equal, and though he acknowledges her skills and abilities, or points out her naivety, he never does it to belittle her; to him, she is his peer, deserving of the highest honor and respect. he trusts her to have his back, and she has come to trust him to have her. he did what she might have thought no man would ever do: he proved himself reliable, so she came to rely on him. yuanzhou gives her freedom and autonomy as both ren ruyi and ren xin. of course they run into problems, but they both learn and grow from them, as individuals and as a couple. yuanzhou's belief in her is unwavering, but adaptable, whereas ltg's is unwavering, but frozen in time, disallowing for any new information to be presented. yuanzhou works with ruyi to accept the changes thrown her way; he seeks the core behind her actions in order to better understand her. li tongguang cannot accept the changes in ruyi's character, because they run contrary to the master he has on a pedestal in his mind.

what li tongguang wants is to return to the past, but yuanzhou offers ruyi the promise of a future, even one that might never come to fruition. there's no triangle about it.

[inlovewithregencyera]

Transcript under cut : )

Vane Farm, Brindleton, Isturia, July 8th, 1818

*Susan snoring*

*Annie loudly snoring*

*tapping on window*

*Susan snoring more*

George: Susie..come on.

*George throws another handful of pebbles*

Susan: Annie, did you hear that?

Susan: Annie..?

*Susan gets up*

Susan: George? *squints* GEORGE!

*Susan grabs her boots and runs down stairs*

George: There's my darling.

Susan: GEORGE!

George: Hi Susie, how are you? *kissing forehead*

Susan: Oh, I'm well I suppose. It is a bit early though, but I'm always glad to see you!

George: And I you. Pray tell me, did I awake Annie again?

Susan: Oh, no. *giggling* She's sound asleep, but it seems you woke the chickens.

George: Yes, it seems so. *softly chuckling* I'd hate if they were to spread scandal about me.

Susan: *pfft*They'd surely give your father a stroke.Reverend Thorpe seen in the wee hours of the morning with farmer Vane's daughter. Whatever would he do?

George: *kissing cheek* Might be a good thing if old Bute stroked out of here.

Susan: *chuckling* Georgie! How cruel.

George: I mean it. That's actually what I came here to talk to you about.

Susan: Oh Lord forgive me! He's alright, isn't he? I meant no malice when-

George: Oh, there there Susie. I dare say he's never alright mentally, but his health shouldn't be something to concern your little heart with.

Susan: Oh thank God. What did you want to speak to me about then?

*hen clucking*

George: Would you mind if we went behind that tree over there so I could tell you? I fear we’re too out in the open.

Susan: Oh, yes of course. giggling We wouldn't want to give the chickens more to gossip about, would we?

George: *smirking* They're already plotting against us, I know it. Come on *takes hand*

*Susan giggles*

George: Susie, can you promise not to be cross with me when I tell you this?

Susan: *clutching hand* George Thorpe, you know I could never truly be cross with you.

George: Good, good. I have two terrible things to tell you, I'll start with the least terrible first.

Susan: Yes?

George: Last night, my father arranged a dinner and had a young Incubinian woman of a wealthy background come as a potential bride for Arthur.

Susan: Oh. Why should you tell me she's Incubinian, does it matter?

George: No! No, not one bit at all, forgive me.Anyways, Arthur said he'd never marry her because of this, and my father demanded I try and swoon her instead. I had no other choice to, but I meant nothing of what I said to her, I flattered her solely for the sake of my Father. Please know this.

Susan: *backing away* Oh why can't you tell him already!

George: Sue, it's not that easy-

Susan: If you loved me like you said you did it would be. My mother sunk from all the comfort she was born into when she married my father, and she didn't care not one bit because she loves him!

George: Susan Augusta Vane, I love you more than anybody on this Earth, you know this.

Susan: Sometimes I don't!

George: Susan..

Susan: I don't know what you'd like me to say.

George: You do know how much I love you, don't you?

Susan: I don't George! You claim how much you love me in private and to your closest friends, yet I tell my family how much I love you. Family is above all else in the world, and you can't tell yours how you "love" me?

George: Arthur and Villoria know that I am hopelessly devoted to you but they do not know that the affection is mutual nor do they know about the engagement. Papa is another thing to trifle with.

Susan: I love you more than you love me.

George: That's not true. If I didn't love you I wouldn't be here standing before you telling you the truth now would I? I couldn't sleep without you knowing. I rode to Thornfield asking Freddie and Max if I was a fool for feeling like this. You mean the world to me and you are the sole object of my affection and happiness. I promise you I'll tell that old fool after Aurelia's birthday and everything is settled with her.

Susan: Whatever do you mean after everything's settled with her?

George: That's where I'm getting. The second thing I must tell you is a terrible blow, I'm not sure how to say this as I know how much you love Aurelia.

Susan: Go on...

George: Sue, Frederick has fleeting consumption.

Susan: *gasps* Oh my goodness. Just as I claimed they had it all, they don't. My poor Aurelia. However is she? Oh, I feel quite terrible, I must call on her first thing in the morn-

George: She doesn’t know.

Susan: What?

George: She doesn’t know.

Susan: Why doesn't she? That's a horrible thing to hide!

George: Because he wants to let her enjoy her birthday first, when he'll have Maximilian tell her, I'm unsure.

Susan: MAXIMILIAN? Why is he the one to tell her, it's Frederick's illness! This isn't right at all, he'll shatter her heart all over now, just as I thought it was getting repaired.

George: I know, I know. But it's not our place to interfere with how they do things, is it?

Susan: No, but my sweet Aurelia never catches a break! Oh, I feel terrible for Frederick, but I feel worse for Aurelia. She'll have to live with this. How dare he come back and do this to her!

George: Susie, it's fleeting consumption. It'll show symptoms then disappear and nothings left of it. He's been coughing since the Spring of 1816, he had it before he knew her.

Susan: That makes it even worse! Oh, I feel for poor Maximilian too. When he came to collect money from dear good Papa yesterday morning, Papa said he looked so sad. George, if you ever get sick, you must tell me immediately and then I shall pray I get sick because truthfully I couldn't live without you, and I’d be so melan-

*George kisses Susan*

Susan: Melancholy.

George: *pulling away* I must go now my dear, the rain will get worse and I don't want you sick. I also convinced Max to sleep as I told him I'd watch Frederick tonight.

Susan: *sniffling* I just can't believe it. This is all so sad you know, he's so young!

George: I know dear, I know. Remember what you'd always tell me though, if it's God's will then let it be done.

Perhaps it's for a greater good, he's not upset about it. He's only upset at the thought of Aurelia being upset.

Susan: Yes..yes I know, and upset she will be!

George: Yes, yes she will be. But she has you as a friend and I'm sure you'll manage to lift her spirits. You love her dearly. Now I must go, I'll see you tonight?

Susan: Oh I’m not going.

George: What, why not?

Susan: *sniffling* I don't have a pretty dress for that occasion, so I'll not embarrass myself or my family by going.

George: I'll steal one of Lori's for you then, hm?

Susan: Oh, no thank you. I just won't be going, I hope you understand. Perhaps Mama and I can go and keep Frederick company while Max and Isabella go to the ball?

George: That's a good idea, you can make anyone smile. You're a good woman Susan, don't forget that.

Susan: And you promise to tell your Papa after all is done between them?

George: I promise. I want Frederick to see our wedding.

[darknight3904]

Reaching Out

Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Asgard 2011 

   "We need to go get Thor," Hogun said 

   "It is treason." Sif pointed out 

   "We will need Astri as well. I'm sure Thor will wonder if she does not come." Volstagg said 

   "And how do you propose we get her? She lives practically under Loki's thumb. I'd bet he has guards watching her 24/7, reporting to him if she even so much as breaks a nail." Fandral pointed out, "I love Astri as much as all of you but she has always been closest with Loki. Getting her to go against his orders will be impossible." 

   "Astri is her own woman. She can do as she pleases, Loki does not hold her back." Sif defended, knowing her friend had defied the trickster many times in the past. 

   "We should not speak so loudly of treason. Heimdall might be listening." Fandral said 

The doors opened to a guard entering. 

   "Heimdall demands your presence." The guard says "He also commands you to leave Astri here." 

Sif followed the Warriors Three towards the Bifrost. They passed the library as they exited the castle. Oh how easy it would be to call to her friend who was most likely buried in a book on magic or histories of the surrounding realms. She cast one more look at the doors to the library before continuing, Astri would be fine, everyone in the castle knew Loki was enamored with her. Well, everyone except Astri and Loki who had been dancing around each other for hundreds of years. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Astri closed the book on mind linking with a heavy sigh. She was learning all sorts of new methods she hadn't been able to try since her and Loki's fight. She had reached out and tried to see what he was doing with his day but there was nothing. Sure, she could feel his presence and that he was alive but he never let her in to see exactly what he was doing or where he was. 

Odin's room was quiet when Astri entered. Frigga was asleep by his side, her head resting on the golden frame of the bed. Her queen's dedication to her husband was admirable, Astri hoped to one day have someone to devote herself to the way Frigga did Odin.  She sat down on the other side of Odin's bed frame. He looked rather peaceful as he lay there as still as a corpse. She was never close to Odin, he had preferred to spend more time with Thor and Loki, mainly Thor, when they were children. Still, there were moments when he had acted as her father figure and not just as her king. Astri smiled as she remembered the time he had chased her first boyfriend off after he had disrespected Astri's combat skills. 

   "Are you ever going to wake again? Loki sits on your throne and I fear he might just plunge us all into war." Astri softly said, her back turned to the sleeping Allfather. 

The large fire on the wall behind them crackled as Astri observed the ornate door that the Allfather had. Golden flowers and vines adorned its metalwork. She would hear Frigga shifting behind her, breaking the peacefulness of the room. 

   "Astri." Frigga said, her voice laced with worry, "Get up. Get Loki, bring him here now." 

Astri turned to Frigga, she was confused as to why they needed Loki who was on her last nerve. Frigga opened her mouth to explain but the crackle of the fire was replaced with the hiss of ice forming and taking over the beautiful door Astri had admired. Said doors nearly went flying from the frame when two huge Frost Giants stalked into the room. One of them Astri recognized from their impromptu trip to Jotunheim with Thor. 

Frigga made the first move as she cut at one of the Frost Giant's legs with a sword. His large hand swooped at her before she could make her next move and she went flying across the room. 

   "A child guards the King of Asgard." the one Astri was sure was Laufey, Loki's birth father said. 

Laufey pointed at her and his soldier came charging at her, ice sword drawn. He was quick but Astri was quicker. She let a sharp burst of power shoot from her hands, and the Frost Giant went flying into the large fire behind him. Screams of horror filled the room as he tried to get up, the fire hissed as his cool temperature began to put it out. 

   "I don't think so," Astri said, directing her magic so the fire would roar once more. 

The frost giant screamed in pain as he burned to death, Astri's magic fueling the flames and keeping him from getting up. 

   "Know that your death came at the hands of Laufey." 

Shit. She forgot all about Laufey. She quickly turned to see him ready to kill the Allfather. A sharp blast stopped her from making her move to burn Laufey to death like his friend. 

    "And your death came at the son of Odin." 

Loki! Astri had never been so glad to see him and his giant helmet-clad self. 

   "You saved him!" Frigga exclaimed, rushing to hug her son 

   " I swear to you Mother, they will pay for this." Loki promised before looking at Astri, " Are you alright?" 

Astri nodded glancing back at the charred body of the Frsot Giant she had killed. Loki's eyes widened at the sight, looking back and forth between the girl he hadn't factored into his plans and the freshly dead body. Astri could sense a comment coming from his mouth but the doors burst open again and Astri immediately turned, ready to burn another giant for daring to harm her family. Instead, she was met with a newly restored Thor, hammer and all. 

   "Thor!" She smiled as Frigga ran to her eldest, embracing him 

Astri hugged him as well as he entered the room fully. He seemed distracted as he glared at Loki, not focused on reunions at all. 

   "Have you told them? How you sent the destroyer to kill our friends, to kill me?" Thor asked 

Astri looked at Loki whose face seemed to paint the perfect picture of guilt. It couldn't be. Loki wouldn't. He had never been close with Sif and the warriors and Thor was a whole different story but he wouldn't try to kill them right? Her Loki was good, he had just saved Odin from certain doom for crying out loud. 

   "I must have been following Father's last command," Loki said, his spear raised, ready to defend against Thor. 

Astri looked at Frigga who was distraught, looking between her two sons who were ready to tear each other apart. 

   "You're a talented liar, brother." Thor mocked 

   "It's good to have you home. Now I must destroy Jotunheim." Loki said 

Before anyone could blink, Loki had Gungnir let out a strong blast. sending Thor through the walls and out of the castle. Astri gasped and ran to the hole Thor had left in Odin's room. Loki was moving quickly to the doors and she ran to block him. 

   "Tell me he's lying." She commanded, "Tell me that Thor's words of you trying to kill him was all some sick joke you dreamed up." 

Loki's answer was only silence as he stared at her. Astri felt her eyes well with tears as she punched at his chest. 

   "How could you?" She cried angrily as Loki caught her hands in his.

   "I have my reasons. I'll let you know all of them when I reach my goals, I promise." Loki said letting her go.

"And what of the Frost Giants today and on Thor's coronation? Did you have a hand in that?" She asked wiping at her eyes.

"How else would they have gotten into Asgard? Heimdall certainly didn't let them in." He said before stepping around her and walking away

Astri couldn't believe what he had just admitted. She knew Loki was one for tricks and mischief but attempting cold-blooded murder? She never dreamed he'd do all of this just for the throne. She raced after him as he moved quickly down the hall. 

   "You're a traitor!" She shouted "A monster!" 

Loki froze when the words left her mouth and Astri couldn't tell if she regretted it. All she knew was that she couldn't let him destroy Jotunheim over a conflict he had organized all by himself. Her moral compass outweighed her guilt as her magic flew at Loki. It hit him in his back and he fell to the ground, hard. Astri walked to him as he pulled himself up. 

   "What are you doing?" He seethed, angry that she had knocked him down 

   "Saving innocent lives." She said, ready to let another blast free at any moment 

   "So am I. They would have rebelled eventually! Do you want to see Asgardian children frozen where they stand? Dead because of a war I can prevent?" Loki asked 

   "You don't know that!" Astri argued 

   "You're just like everyone else. You don't see the bigger picture. Don't you get it? I'm not doing this for a throne. Why do you think I saved Odin?" Loki questioned 

   "You do a lot of things that don't make sense to me. " Astri said, ready to knock him down again 

   "They will, soon," Loki said sincerely 

Astri hadn't expected Loki's fist to come at her as fast as it did but by the time she had registered it, it was too late. A loud crunch of her bones was all she heard before everything went dark. 

Months later, Asgard 2011

Astri had spent the past months bored. The castle she had grown up in sometimes felt like a prison rather than a home. Her face had healed up perfectly after Loki had knocked her out. The break in her nose had been clean, calculated almost and the healers that helped her said there'd be no issues with it in the future. Now, she spent her days reading, training with Sif, and talking with Thor who felt Loki's absence just as much as she did. 

   "So this mortal of yours, she's what Midgard calls a scientist?" Astri asked in between bites of food. 

She and Thor had begun eating dinner together each night, something she used to do with Loki. 

   "Yes. She's quite brilliant. Heimdall says she's searching for me." Thor replied 

Astri sadly smiled. Ever since Thor had destroyed the Bifrost, traveling had been completely cut and the only way to see into other worlds was through Heimdall. Sure, Loki had his secret passages but had never bothered to share them with anyone. 

   "And what of that fellow you've been meeting with, in the markets?" Thor asked 

Astri blushed at his words. She had thought she was being more secretive about that.

   "It's nothing. I think I just need to talk to someone that isn't you, Sif, or Frigga." She waved him off 

   "Well, you ought to tell him that. Those flowers he sent to your chambers the other day are telling a different tale." Thor laughed 

   "When the hell did you become so observant?" Astri groaned and covered her face with her hands. 

   "I've always been like this...I'm just that good." Thor explained 

   "How is it you go to Midgard and come back more humble yet somehow weirder?" Astri asked 

   "What do you mean I've always been like this." He shrugged

Gods Thor was going to actually drive Astri insane one day. 

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Astri had bid Thor goodnight after they finished eating. She was feeling tired after all her training with Sif today. Her friend never pulled her punches and thanks to that Astri was sure she'd have bruised on her skin for the next century. Beyond her physical exertion, Astri had a routine each night. It would start with a warm bath, followed by letting Drifa help her oil her hair while they talked about their lives. Drifa did most of the speaking since she had met a wonderful woman recently and were seeing each other. Astri supplied the doom and gloom to the conversation by often bringing up how tired she was of the calm that had followed Loki's demise. Following all of that, Astri would sit on top of her bed and search for him. For Loki. 

   "Tonight, I'll find you." She whispered to herself and closed her eyes. 

She always tried to remain hopeful but there was nothing but darkness as usual. Whatever was left of Loki, if he was even alive was unreachable to her. 

   "Please. Just a glimpse." She pleaded to her empty room 

A sharp pain fluttered across her face, followed by a flash of unbearable heat. Murmured voices joined the fray as Astri tried to focus on what she was feeling and hearing. Was this Loki? Or had she accidentally ended up in someone else's mind? Darkness was all she could see but whoever was speaking, their voice grew clearer the more she focused. Pained gasps followed another hot flash of something that felt as though her mind was melting. 

   "Do it again. He can handle it." 

And so we have reached the end of the first Thor movie. If you take a quick look at the summary for this story you will see that I have added warnings for this story. I do suggest going to the masterlist of this story to read them. I have decided to change that and it will include both smut (hehe everyone's fave ) and suicidal/self-harm scenes. Material like this will be marked and have individual warnings when it pops up. 

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[ohsayit]

Zevlor's age, new oath, and future

Zevlor is not main enough of a character in the game for him to have specific lore about his age. FR wiki says average life span for tieflings is 90-150 years and they age roughly the same rate as humans. Zevlor looks like human in their late 40s to mid 50s to me so based on my pure guesswork, I like to think he is 60-70 years old and has at least 40 years left.

He is old enough to have some serious and/or long term relationship before Avernus. If he was in a relationship, I don't think Zevlor's partner will survive both Hell and exile. He is conveniently single for us.

After all the Brain business and regained his paladin power from an unknown oath (my personal guess is Devotion. Or Vengeance at least), he is capable of doing things again.

The Flaming Fist is no friend to Hellriders, even the exiled ones. So he shouldn't be settling in Baudler's Gate. He may take a few of his closest associates with him and settle somewhere nearby.

That opens up two routes for me, originally.

One of them being he settles down to be a regular civilian. Maybe he joins the local force to protect the settlement.

But this man loves having a purpose. Glory is second to Honour for him. Honour comes from Duty and Purpose. I think this man is all about having a purpose. He takes pride in having one and his commitment for it. So even he said his soldiering days is over, the power that came to him from the new oath, will nudge him back to the road again. Protecting the settlement he lives in feels too small of a purpose for him (unless it's a big city which doesn't make much sense for me). This man used to be a commander among "elite cavalris" and sserved in "one of the most renowned and well-regarded military forces in the Realms". He needs to protect something big or important enough for him.

So this is the other and my preferred route. For my Tav in particular, maybe some bits will suit yours.

Zevlor grouped with his close associates and base somewhere near Baldur's Gate. One, they can get in touch with other people from Elturel who settled in Baldur's gate. Two, Tav knows where to find him. They travel around to put their power to good use, bit similar to mercenary. Tav saunters over from time to time just to mess with our old man and fuck him senseless.

Desire to live a life reignites when Zevlor has one again.

He knows Tav is no parent material. On top of that, they are not even in a relationship. He wonders when she will stop visiting. Every time she shows up is a delight. The better it feels every time she visits, the more his mind wonders to ridiculous places. He wants a relationship and possibly a kid with her. Although he knows that will not happen in this eternity, he still fantasies about it sometimes.

FR wiki I look at this time: https://forgottenrealms.fandom.com/wiki/Hellriders

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End note

Uggghhhh sorry for the long post loll It is super unintended. All I wanted to say was just "dude looks like having 40-50 years left, he wants a kid once he has a life, a kid with Tav in specific, not just a rando woman" See where this one sentence takes me (facepalm)

I am working on a one shot Zevlor/Tav fic, inspired by my own post -,- It was supposed to be an easy, fun, simple, one shot, quick smut. I didn't plan to give Zevlor this much mind for the fic but here I am -,- writing a long ass post for our precious old man.

I blame Larian for all of this.