#i love how shadow is the one who’s sad about murder

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Saw characters comfort you

Mark, Peter, Lawrence, Adam

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, tiny emotional, kissing, mention of smoking

Summary : Everyone has a bad day, a day when you're sad and can't go on, or a day when the world just seems to have got the better of you. How good that even in such a dirty city there is love and comfort that will help you no matter what.

info : Oh man it feels like years since my last Saw post so why not start with a bit of fluff to try and get back into it.

masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mark

He had always been someone who was relatively alone well until the death of his sisters in law there had been at least the two of them but that togetherness came to a sudden end when he found her murdered since then it was just him and his target again as a successor to the man who had given him a new one.

So it seemed if he hadn't come across her during his work as an investigator as well as a follower for John, a woman who tried to show him that there could still be something good in this world if you just looked for it.

It was a time of love and emotion, but it was always a time when the shadow of John and the various spies was over them both and more and more often Mark came home less and less, much to the chagrin of his love, until the evening when she couldn't blink away the tears either and when the door opened Hoffman was confronted with a painful sight.

He just wanted to take a short break in the flat, thinking she was asleep, but when he entered and heard the crying and screaming he knew something was wrong, ,,Darling? Is everything all right, I'm-" he interrupted himself when he saw sir sitting on the bed in the bedroom, crying, holding a months-old picture framed in her hand, a present from him for her birthday when they had both come here from this town together, only for a few days but it had been the most beautiful days of her life.

Sitting down by her bed, he put his hand on hers and stroked her, ,,What's wrong?" he asked quietly, feeling the pain when he saw her tearful look and how reproachfully she looked at him. it hurt like he had only felt this pain the last time he had lost his sister.

She sniffled again and tried to pull away but he held her tightly and gently, wiping the tears from her cheeks, ,,Ma-Mark…how long? How-How long are you going to do it? I don't want to spend every day worrying that you won't come back," she said, looking back at the picture where she saw a smiling happy couple, a couple who knew that what he was doing could not go unpunished and as much as she ignored it, she knew only the utmost was about a future together.

In the past he would have withdrawn from something like this, but only he was so far from his goal that he could give up now, ,,I'm sorry about your pain…but believe me dear, I just need one last game, one last time and then we'll disappear, then we'll be free of all this," he said, gently embracing her face, looking into sad eyes that sought honesty in his gaze.

An honesty she actually found and slowly moved into his arms, ,,Please Mark keep your promise please" she murmured and sniffled away the last of her tears as she gave him a small smile before he pulled her into a holding kiss, holding her body and giving her the support she needed just for that moment to be free of hope again.

A hold they gave each other even in the last moments before the free ride, before the finish line and before the end of the game she believed Mark believed that if they could just hang in there together they would make it together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Peter

The FBI agent was the one above the law, at least in exceptions, and these exceptions arrived when the first victims were washed up, the first victims executed by Jigsaw in the most brutal way and with each new victim.

Not only Strahm and his colleagues became more nervous as they couldn't catch the killer but also his own drive to suspect his colleague Hoffman became more and more obsessive, an obsession that drew him more and more into this horror.

A horror from which he could only rarely emerge alone, either with his arrest or his death he knew he had to be right to keep the residents safe, to keep those he had sworn to protect safe but the question was if he protected the residents who would protect his partner, his love, his heart when she was home alone?

If she couldn't get back from her work at the vets until the evening and was alone, who would protect her? Questions to which he had no answer despite her pleas, ,,I'll take care of it love, just a little bit okay?" he had put her off every time he drove a short distance in his car in the city centre and left her alone again as he had done for almost the last few weeks…until he got a radio message from Perez that sent a shiver through his body and made him drive his car through the streets faster than allowed.

,,Where is she!" he shouted as he arrived at the police station, pushed past colleagues, victims and others and saw Perez pointing to an interrogation room. ,,Darling, are you all right?" he shouted as he pushed open the door and found his partner wrapped in a blanket with a plaster on her forehead and a small mark on her eyebrow.

,,Peter," she said weakly and fell into his arms as he held her and heard her crying Peter himself had to fight back a few tears as the pain was written all over his face, ,,I should have been there, forgive me for being so sorry" he said, reaching for the cold pack she had been given and pressing it gently against her forehead, looking towards her to see more injuries.

But he saw an amused, angry laugh next to the trembling body, ,,That's not the point…I defended myself through you…but-but if not Peter please I don't want any more" she sniffled, only slowly understanding what she wanted, what the bigger problem was and what was bothering her.

He hugged her to him, she held on to him, slowly trying to calm down and he stroked her back, ,,I'll stay with you every night, you can always stay with me, none of these bastards will hurt you, I promise you love," he told her, his gaze filled with gentleness and yet seriousness as she stroked his head, seeing that he was just as distressed as she was, perhaps not physically but mentally.

But even now as she slept in his arms he held her as they moved from the interrogation room to the couch he held her and watched over her and gave her comfort, comfort she needed now and he would never let her out of his sight again because in the end she was the greatest thing he ever had and would ever get from this filthy town.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lawrence

The sound of metal clicking and a twitching noise could be heard as the blonde doctor made his way through the corridors of the old factory to his operating theatre, the walking stick kept coming up and his prosthetic leg made a clicking sound as the splints, screws and leather moved uncomfortably but slowly getting more and more used to it he had hardly given a thought to the day.

He was here to fulfil another task, to implant another key and lock in his stomach and then to stay here for a while before he would go home with his loved one, even after his wife had left him he only had John, but eventually he had found her, a lost nurse with a search for a new purpose and a goal, a purpose she had found in John.

With a slight smile he pushed open the metal door and stepped into the operations room not the best but it was enough, ,,Morning love" he said as he saw his heart sitting on one of the operating chairs a tea in her hand and a slight smile on her lips as she returned his words.

The two of them engaged in the kind of light small talk they always did as they went through the files together, she occasionally nodding to him when he didn't get to things and he gave her a kiss, ,,What would I do without you?" he murmured, seeing her wry smile as they put on the blue surgical apron together and turned to the body on the table.

It was a minor procedure, almost like a daily routine back at the hospital, but he didn't see her smile as she sighed as she looked at the scalpel and put it back in the tray.

,,Is everything okay? Are you unwell?" he asked immediately, circling the table and trying to prop her up to look for signs of pain but she just shook her head, ,,No…not so Lawrence everything here…can you keep it up with them?" she asked, settling into the chair and looking up into his bright eyes that gazed at her.

A look of guilt crossed his gaze for a moment before he took her hand and stroked it gently, ,,It's not easy, not even for me at first…but darling, I see it as the only thing I have left. We can't go back without being eaten by each other," he gave the harsh reply that told the truth, but she knew that if they turned themselves in they would never get back together and sooner or later would be executed or die in prison.

Releasing her hand from his, she hid her face in her hands knowing he was right and yet, ,,Isn't there something we can do?" she asked, hearing the twitching of the stick and the slight squeak of his prosthesis as he knelt in front of her, roughly sunken, taking both her hands and leaving kisses on them.

He was relieved to see that she no longer looked like she was about to cry, he always kissed her when she was feeling bad, ,,When we're done with this one, why don't we go into hiding? Just the two of us together waiting somewhere trying to get through it together…with you together we can do anything yes?" he asked leaning his head against hers for a moment.

Feeling how hard it was for her to get hope sometimes but when he saw her nod as she gave him a kiss and stood up to help him up and he took her in his arms they both managed to gather hope. Hiding didn't have to be out of fear, it could also be a no new beginning a beginning together for their love and hope.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Adam

The music boomed in his ears as the itars and drums tried to combine with the shrill sound of snoring, each louder than the other as Adam was out of the bus, the bag of groceries in his hand swaying back and forth, the cigarette between his lips judging him and the metal music on his ears making him moan from time to time or just bob his head slightly to feel the dancing.

The camera hanging around his neck had taken the latest photos, one assignment after another he always got from John every week, always from the same man…he knew why.

He knew that as soon as the photos were finished, it would soon mean the death of the photographed person, but he barely entertained this thought in his head, he was too used to it.

Walking up the stairs of the old apartment building past the same door and people, he found his door and unlocked it, ,,Honey! I'm back!" he called inside and closed the door behind him but got no answer.

At first he thought she was asleep, he put down his food and put out his cigarette before he looked for her in the living room and bedroom but she wasn't there.

He checked the bathroom to see if she was in the bath but she wasn't there either, ,,Honey?" he asked in amazement and heard a rustling sound, knowing that this paper-like rustling sound could only come from one room, the enlarged storage room, the place where he developed his photos.

Adam went there and actually found her standing in front of the photos thinking she was going to develop a few more while he was gone but instead she just stared at them, ,,Hey is everything okay?" he asked as he heard a sniffle and saw her flinch, seemingly trying to wipe away tears and turn to him.

Despite everything you could see that she had wept, cried a lot maybe for hours he didn't know but immediately his heart tightened, ,,No Adam…it's not all his fault…these photos I-I can't do it anymore…it's like a death sentence" she mumbled and held the photos out to him seeing how he was torn.

He knew they needed the money otherwise they risked being arrested, there was little other option but he also knew that his love for her meant more to him than the money or the prospect of something better, letting the pictures sail to the ground he grabbed her hand and pulled her close.

He pulled her into a kiss her hands wrapped around him holding on to him, ,,Thank you Adam…I know we'll find something but please stop" she said putting her hand on his cheek he could see he was fighting tears, he himself knew what they were doing was wrong he knew they would find something else and until then they would make it together.

It touched him how much she cared for him too, ,,No thank you darling I love you and we can do this…I promise I'll stop" he said pressing a kiss to her forehead and pulling her into a warm embrace holding her until their tears had dried and he lightened the mood when he announced that he had brought muffins which they ate together on the couch wrapped in a blanket.

But most of all they were not only cheerful but happy, happy to at least have another morning without playing judgement on a person they would never meet, they had each other and that was all that mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@megustadilf , @magmabayvi , @faultlessheart , @blackbunnymayw , @s1lut4adamstanheight , @icarus-star

[mintyyukimevt]

My friend @potterzilla threw this at me today and i cannot express with words how funny I find it and how happy it makes me LOL

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Angel Dust: “Sweetie, babe… missy, hun-”

Vaggie: “If you’re talking to your reflection in the mirror again, I’m kicking you both out.”

Angel Dust: “I just don’t GET it!”

Vaggie: “It’d be the fourth time you talked dirty to yourself in public this week and I was sick of hearing it three times ago. What’s not to get.”  

Angel Dust: “How come ya got so many pet names for ya girlfriend, Vaggisaurus? Ya don’t seem the type.”

Vaggie: “That’s the worst thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Angel Dust: “I’m serious! It don’t fit ya at all!”

Vaggie: “Sure it does.”

Angel Dust: “How??”

Vaggie: “I love her. And she loves pet names.”

Angel Dust: “If she loves ‘em so much then why ain’t SHE callin’ YOU by any?”

Charlie: “Well maaaaaybe she WOULD if EVERYONE ELSE actually USED Vaggie’s name instead of saying it WRONG or turning it into a JOKE all the time! Ha ha ha! Isn't that funny???? Maybe Vaggie’s girlfriend LIKES her name and thinks it’d be SAD if no one ever SAID IT!!!”

Angel Dust: “Aw c’mon, since when does that-”

Lucifer: “Gooooooood MORNING Char-char! Good morning Maggie!”

Charlie: “Hi dad.”

Vaggie: “Good morning, sir.”

Husk: “Mail’s here. More fucking hate letters from heaven addressed to That Filth Vagina.”

Vaggie: “Great. Let Niffty burn those too.”

Niffty: “THE SACRIFICIAL TRASH RAT FIRE SHALL CONSUME IT’S VICTIMS ALONG WITH THEIR FINAL HELPLESS SCREAMS!!!”

Cherri Bomb: “Cool. Hey guys- Pentious sent a text asking for someone named ‘Vagatha’ to make sure his Egg Boi gets tucked into bed tonight and read a bedtime story from one of the death machine instruction manuals… and I’m wondering…"

Cherri Bomb: "...who the fuck is Vagatha???”

Vaggie: “His murderer, if he wasn’t already dead.”

Cherri Bomb: “What the fuck? I was that idiot’s nemesis! Whoever this Vagatha chic is, I’ve got a bomb to pick out for her!”  

Charlie: “Cherri, just…” (sigh) “Just tell Pen I’ll handle it, okay?”

Cherri Bomb: “Sure thing, but who-”

Charlie: “Don’t ask.”

Vaggie: “Thanks babe.”

Angel Dust: “…..”

Angel Dust: "Huh.

Vaggie: “...You were saying?”

Angel Dust: "Ya need a new name, Vaggietales.”

Vaggie: “I’ve got a loving girlfriend who always says it right, so I think I’m good actually.”

Angel Dust: “Toots, no one outside of a porno can say ‘Vaggie’ with a straight face.”

Charlie: “I do!”

Angel Dust: “You’re in homosexuals with her. Like, sickenin' deep in the yuri genre. It ain't straight and it don’t count.”

Vaggie: “If we're talking about dumb names don't forget I somehow call you ‘Angel’ with a straight face.”

Angel Dust: “Only ‘cause ya hate heaven an' mean it as a slur.”

Charlie: “Oh Angel Dust, you KNOW that’s not-”

Vaggie: “True.”

Angel Dust: “BITCH I KNEW IT!!”

Charlie: “Oh for... is there ANYONE here who’s normal about names???”

Alastor: “Ah-HEM~”

Charlie: “Normal in a non-serial killer kinda way.”

Alastor: (smiles) "Ah." (fades back into shadows)

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Emperor! x Opera Artist! Reader Headcanons:

Warning: This section is a continuation of the previous one, so you have to read the other one to understand this one.

Topics to talk about: Mention of kidnapping, abuse, murder, obsessive and yandere behavior, manipulation, and anything involving yandere behavior. Also, as I said before, I am NOT describing any Asian emperor in particular, so I have created my own; Not to mention that I have used the Chinese imperial harem system as a base, as well as the forbidden city itself. I will name (Y/n)'s children, so I warn you that I am not describing any prince or princess in particular.

Enjoy it!

1. Yan Li knew that because of having such fast promotions the concubines were mostly jealous of you, so to prevent any attacks, he kept an eye on every corner you went to.

2. He also watched over the princes and princesses he had with you, who were the following:

-The third prince, Li Chen (your first child). -The sixth prince, Li Song (your second child). -The eighth prince, Yong Li (your third child). -The ninth prince, Li Yon'er (your fourth child). -The tenth princess, Yan'rong (your fifth child). -The fifteenth princess, Hua Li (your sixth child).

3. Your children also suffered from palace intrigues, so you had to protect each one of them tooth and nail. Yan Li saw this and decided to severely punish any concubine or consort who dares to harm you or your children.

4. To protect (and harass) you, Yan Li selected a specific group of servants for your palace, among them is the one who became your "right hand", a servant in charge of cleaning, named Yuhou.

5. Zhou, meanwhile, was devastated to learn that you were kidnapped by Yan Li in a golden cage, so he tried to enter the palace and enlist in the imperial army, which he succeeded after a few years. If he can't rescue you, he would at least watch over you from the shadows.

6. One day, when you were in the middle of your third pregnancy, you were walking with your maids when they saw each other. One of your maids, Lili (yes, your old friend), noticed this. He was shocked to see you not only dressed as one of Yan Li's consorts (at that time you were still a consort), but he felt her heart break at the sight of you pregnant. You felt like running towards each other, but you loved your children too much to challenge Yan Li like this.

7. --He… forced you?-- Zhou asked after remaining silent in surprise. You could only nod at that moment.

8. --Yes, isn't it obvious?-- You answered and left, being very devastated just like him, not knowing that Yan Li himself was watching them, angry and jealous.

9. Yan Li made sure you would never see your loved one again, taking him out of the forbidden city on super difficult military missions, basically sending him to die multiple times on purpose.

10. You suspected that Yan Li would find out sooner or later, so you purposely avoided meeting or talking about Zhou, no matter how sad it made you. You didn't even mention it to your children.

11. The few times Zhou was in the forbidden city, Yan Li tried to set traps for you to see how far you would go or whether you would be unfaithful to him, and the best thing you did in hoste traps was… stay in your palace and quietly go on with your life. , which Yan Li did not expect.

12. Yan Li has never hurt you physically, rather he threatened or manipulated you, followed by controlling how long you could sing and dance (like when you did before) or not, which discouraged you a lot. He only allowed you to do it for him.

13. I forgot to say that Lili entered the Mese Palace after you were kidnapped, but Yan Li wanted to make sure that she didn't help you escape, so he sent her first to work in the laundry house, the embroidery department, the flower department and gardening and finally in the workhouse where Lili had some acquaintances, both good and bad, and endured a lot of work and humiliation.

14. Each time Yan Li locked you more and more to himself, with the excuse that it was to take care of you, but he only wanted to control you.

15. Yan Li even had every gift that came to you or your children checked. He also appreciated any gift you gave him.

16. You watched your eldest children grow up, marry, and leave your palace for their own princely mansions, one after one. Li Chen was the first of all of them.

17. After you gave birth to Hua Li, you were unable to have children again, but Yan Li didn't care about this and still forced you to stay with him every night he could, now threatening to harm Zhou if you didn't comply with his whims. and you gave yourself to him.

18. Yan Li forced you to spend time with him, and not only at night but also visiting you in your palace, taking walks with him (sometimes with the Empress Dowager as extra company) and even accompanying him on trips and festivals.

19. Speaking of the Empress Dowager, she quite likes you and Yan Li is glad that you get along with her since… well, she's his mother. She is the only person who forgives you for spending a lot of time with her aside from your children and harem problems; He likes that you get along with the highest ranking woman in the empire.

20. Yan Li really likes your son, Li Chen, so much so that he secretly made him his heir to the throne; so neither you nor Li Chen himself knows.

21. In the event that any of your children or one of his consorts helped you escape, Yan Li would banish them from the forbidden city and condemn you to house arrest.

22. During festivals, he would control even who can talk and who can't talk to you. Among the people who can't even get close to you would be your beloved Zhou.

23. A drunk minister once insulted you, and as a result, Yan Li burned his tongue.

24. Yan Li is the one who had all your crowns made to your liking, demonstrating the deep love (or rather, obsession) he had for you.

25. Sometimes during the nights you were forced to give him back massages after a stressful day, and on other nights he would do this with you.

26. The servants even had to be careful not to bump into you, because depending on Yan Li's mood… he may simply punish them, or kill them.

27. As time went by, you became a grandmother thanks to your prince's children, but you couldn't always see your grandchildren since Yan Li liked to keep you prisoner in the forbidden city.

28. Every time Yan Li goes to bathe in his own private hot spring lake, he forces you to bathe with him, even if you don't want to. Likewise, if he knows that you are bathing alone in said waters, he will bathe with you even if you don't want to and he will make you be close to him.

29. He makes sure that every birthday of yours is fantastic.

30. Every time he got sick, he asked you to take care of him. Conversely, every time you got sick he took care of you and by doing so I mean not only getting you the best medicines, but also watching over everything that your maids or the imperial doctor do.

31. The Empress Dowager became ill over the years due to old age, and when she died, you were very sad since she was somehow the closest thing to a mother to you. Your princesses also mourned her a lot, not to mention Yan Li himself. Due to the close relationship Yan Li had with his mother, he was devastated and declared three years of mourning; It was the only time you felt truly sorry for him.

32. Yan Li has given the order that if something happens in the palace or during a trip, they must save you and your children first, since he does not want to see you hurt, injured or in the worst case scenario… dead. That is a nightmare and a terror that has haunted him day after day since he met you, which is why he believes that he is protecting you but in reality he manipulates you, locks you up and isolates you from the world.

33. He admired how you managed the imperial harem and all the internal servant departments with an iron fist, even if he didn't tell you directly.

34. The only excuse Yan Li accepts for you not wanting to sleep with him is if you or one of your children is sick.

35. The only visits Yan Li allowed to you were from your eldest children, either alone or with their wives and children. I don't know if I mentioned it before, but Yan Li noticed the pressure your parents were putting on you, so he sent his guards to "talk nice" to them, and from then on they stopped bothering you.

36. Yan Li saw you meeting Zhou secretly, which made him angry, so that night he threatened you that if you didn't say goodbye, he would kill him in a cruel and painful way. The next day she made you say goodbye to your loved one and then took him out of the forbidden city so that one of his guards would cut his neck, killing him quickly and throwing him into a mass grave. Needless to say, you really hated Yan Li again after that.

37. As the years went by, Yan Li became sicker and sicker, mostly from stress, which you took advantage of to start getting revenge on him, poisoning him.

38. His health deteriorated more and more, until on his final day, when he was dying, you dismissed all his servants from his main hall and then confessed to him. Yan Li was very angry and felt very betrayed, but he could do nothing but listen until he died at the hands of the person he loved so much.

39. During Yan Li's funeral, you pretended to cry, not knowing that your real happy days began from that moment. Yan Li's trusted eunuch read the emperor's will, which stated that Li Chen would be the new emperor, and you would be the empress dowager. Long story short, your son ascended the throne, reshaped your living conditions, and the other consorts became "widow consorts." You no longer had to worry about anything, you would just live in peace from now on, taking care of your daughters until they grow up.

40. However, Yan Li was waiting for you in the other world. He has told you years before he died that even if he passes away first, he will be waiting for you in the next life where he will find you and make you his again.

-Fin. So, what do you think about this part two?

[choreom4nia]

◜ 𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ◞ : a collection of prompts from the 2023 animated film 𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀 based off the graphic novel by nd stevenson . adjust phrasing as desired ! not spoiler free .

go back to the shadows from whence you came !

if you want a happily ever after , you can never let your guard down .

hey , thinky face . look at me .

it's not what [ ] wanted .

i don't feel safe .

i'm not brooding ! i'm just - i'm thinking .

this is my thinking face .

you were better and worked harder than all of us .

but what if they still hate me ?

they're gonna love you . like i do .

did you think i was going to apologize for how i treated you ? oh my god , that's hilarious . you're so stupid , i love it .

some of us don't get the happily ever after we're looking for .

the garbage and the smell of sadness really pull the whole thing together .

wait , who are you ?

put that down !

okay , how old do you think i am ?

not a lot of kids in your life huh ?

i'm here about the job .

do you like it ?

every villain needs a sidekick .

sweet murder wall !

this guy looks extremely punchable .

you're right , he is extremely punchable .

are you saying you're not a villain ?

are you disappointed that i'm not a murderer ?

it's complicated , okay ?

i am not gonna get arrested !

i trusted you .

give me a chance !

because once everyone sees you as a villain , that's what you are .

they only ever see you one way . no matter how hard you try .

if you see anyone , hide .

that's a hard no .

something , something , something , we win !

did you see the way he looked at me ?

how could i promise you when i don't know what's about to happen ?

this is the part where you run .

you're a monster .

do not call me that !

why are you helping me ?

everybody hates you too .

i think what you mean to say is thanks for saving my life .

can you just be you please ?

i can't be seen with that !

you've been staring .

can you please just be normal for a second ?

easier for who ?

how did you get like this ?

that explains literally nothing .

you need to sit down . you're bleeding !

most people scream at that part .

i'm not people .

does it hurt at all ?

i've been through worse .

what does it feel like ?

i feel worse when i don't do it .

why did you set me up ?

they brainwashed you good .

arm chopping is not a love language !

it's how we were trained .

you should be questioning everything right now !

i've lost my mind . i've lost everything .

i never asked for that .

you lied to me about everything !

then you never knew me at all .

i've got you , kid !

i said i don't want to talk about it !

i don't need your help !

i don't know what's scarier : the fact that everyone wants to kill me ? or that sometimes , i just wanna let ' em .

we have to get you out of here.

we'll go , together .

no matter what we do we can't change the way people see us .

you changed the way you see me .

it's okay . you're safe . we're home .

let's live here forever .

i wouldn't be here if you'd stood up for me .

there is something i need to tell you .

i'm not the villain here !

i know ! i know . i believe you .

i'm sorry for everything .

we've been wrong about everything .

this was a mistake .

why can't you just leave me alone ?

because i love you .

tell me this isn't you .

where did you get that ?

you think that i would do that ? that that's who i am ?

think about everything that we've been through together !

you were using me !

you wanted them to see someone else to hate so you wouldn't be alone !

i want to hear you say it ! say it !

don't you wish you were normal ?

you know what you are !

innocent people will die .

what are we doing ?

what have i done ?

i'm sorry . i'm sorry .

i see you .

i see you . and you're not alone .

what if we're wrong ? what if we've always been wrong ?

be right back . i'm gonna go break some stuff .

it's time to rewrite the story .

come back . please come back .

maybe it's not the end of the story .

holy sh - !

[ispelexists]

SHADOW MILK COOKIE AND 'THEATRUM MUNDI'

"The world's a stage, and the actors are playing their roles in it"

The idea of Theatrum Mundi dumbed down. It's a simple concept, that concludes that the life itself is a show, being directed by some supernatural force like for example god etc.

(If I'm wrong correct me, I'm not that much into literature and this kind of stuff)

This idea caused me to write down a few prompts for you pookies <3

🎭

The thing is, is that you have so many options with this, like... AHHH

English isn't my first language, I apologize for any confusion I might've caused by these

Here's some ideas/prompts for you guys:

💙 1. 💙

🎭) AU where Shadow Milk's corruption begun not because of the overwhelming power he had, but because he, as the 'Virtue of Knowledge' knew everyone's script after looking at them, and being distraught by that fact, or the fact that almost every Common Folks life ended with a tragedy, a murder (by the hands of the beasts, but he doesn't know that) which terrifies him.

He, being the only one who knew about it, would try to figure out what this tragedy was, or to change the fate, not knowing the cause of it, was himself and those he considered him the closest.

🎭) In the end he got so focused on that task, he didn't see his own slow fall, and when he noticed it in his comrades, it was to late. The only thing he could do was to accept his end, and join the other Beasts in wrecking chaos, and ending the whole ACT.

🎭 (In this AU, he can only see the key moments in everyone's life, like for example marriage, death, and other important things, he can't see everyday life of anyone)

🎭 (Also the only one's he doesn't know his script, that's why he doesn't know he would fall to corruption, you can say that he also can't see other Beasts since they're equal in power, but I think it works either way)

💙 2. 💙

🎭) A concept where Shadow Milk Cookie, freshly after his corruption, goes around either in a physical form or hidden withing the shadows, observing random cookies life, and having a great time laughing at the absurdity of the fact he can basically knows what's gonna happen next.

🎭) For example seeing a cookie buy something at the store, and him being able to predict they would trip in a moment, which they do. After observing, he would start to act out, to see if his actions can change the events that would happen next (Example: Making person A fall on someone else's garden, and the other cookie getting angry at them, which would change not only Cookies A script, but also Cookie's B) (basically 'Butterfly Effect')

🎭) This prompt would allow to explore how he might've acted freshly after becoming fully corrupted. Reason being I think, he wouldn't jump straight into seeking chaos, but testing the waters to see how far he can go before anyone (witches) try to stop him

🎭) (As an Ex 'Virtue of Knowledge' in this AU he knows every detail of everyone's scrip/life)

💙 3. 💙

🎭) This one is a prompt for an 'x Reader', 'x Canon' or 'x OC'. Basically Shadow Milk Cookie after he got released from the tree (of right after he got corrupted) and meets Insert/Name and Gingerbrave gang.

🎭)Here it could go 2 different ways (or more, but I just don't feel like writing them all):

a) He knew of I/N because of being able to see through Pure Vanilla's staff and falling for them in that way, but after seeing that I/N either has no love interest planned in the whole thing, or has some else, he's getting angry

(if you're doing pre-corruption Shadow Milk, then he can get just sad, and attempting to change the fate by simply spending more time with I/N, but after it hasn't worked, he just watches from the sidelines, as their beloved live in their fairytale, and get their happy ending with someone else (ANGSTSSS YESS))

anyways, coming back to Corrupted Shadow Milk Cookie. He would attempt changing the fate in more drastic way, and getting really pissed that it won't change no matter what. Feel free to interpret it as you will.

b) Also after getting free from that tree, while he knew of I/N from Pure Vanilla, after meeting them, he learns that in their story HE is their love interest, and being like 'Omg, my star, where have you been all my life 😩' or something idk, be creative lmao.

🎭

The art without the text 😘

[theshinazugawaslut]

Always here to help, Esha😘💕

Anyway, thoughts on Toxic Nemi? Not like super toxic but like…still toxic yk?😵‍💫

Controlling, manipulative, and possessive; those are the best three words to use for toxic Sanemi. Whether it's set in the canon-verse or a modern AU (I've written this with more of a modern-AU in mind but I wouldn't mind making two seperate ones on request. However, I do also use references to the canon verse (training, missions, ect.).)

He loves you, he really does — he doesn't want to ever have to hurt you but he's doing it for your own good, don't you understand?

It's not that he doesn't trust you, it's that he doesn't trust others around you. How can you blame him? You have such beautiful, shimmering eyes and the prettiest smile, you could tempt anyone.

It starts off small: clingy little gestures like always keeping an arm around you, perhaps his rough hands dig just right into the plump flesh of your hips or perhaps his arm wraps around your sweet stomach, forearm resting against your belly whilst his fingers stroke some skin under your shirt as you go out shopping with him, excitedly showing him something you like. He listens to you but his lilac eyes burn into every passerby, his gaze almsot shadowing you from anyone's view with the promise of bloody murder in those eyes you find so very sweet.

He stands unnecessarily close to you, invading every inch of personal space he possibly can with that charming smile on his face, wants your eyes on just him and wants to make sure he can shield you from everyone else's filthy eyes.

If you're going out — mission, training, or in a modern AU where you're going shopping, visiting a friend — Sanemi is already slipping on his shoes and his haori (or jacket), looking at you with his usual serious face.

"I'm comin' with you, sweetheart," he says simply, blunt fingertips gentle brushing against your cheek, placing a chaste kiss on your jaw to make you listen. "Can't let you out alone, can I? What typa man would that make me, hmm?"

He swears it's for your safety and even when you protest you're meeting a friend at a cafe or simply going on a mission, he's tagging along, snarling when you try to deny him.

"Why do you not want me to come? Are you hiding something from me? Do I embarrass you?" he asks, making his eyes vulnerable and soft, making himself look sad and hurt, the way he knows that'll make you sag your shoulders and let him come along.

Hence, Sanemi follows you everywhere, even in the house. If you're sitting down — writing a letter to another Hashira or in a modern-day verse, texting someone on your phone — he's got an arm around your shoulder, lilac eyes watching your every move sharply.

"Baby, who's that?" he asks innocently, pointing to a contact as you had been mindlessly scrolling down your list of numbers to find a specific one.

"Oh, he's a friend from highschool," you answer and he scowls.

"Remove him," he orders and when you try to deny him, he nuzzles himself into your neck. "Baby, please, you care about me more, right? Not this rando, hmm?"

He grins when he watches you delete the contact.

He's also a bit shameless to get his point across to your friends and all the other people who ogle at your pretty person, kissing and suckling softly at your neck in public even as you squeal in protest.

He veils threats as well, ones he disguises as teasing or jokes but will wholeheartedly act upon should he deem he should.

"Tch, fuckin' bastard, I'll break his hands if he thinks of touching you."

"Do you really need to be visiting your family all the time? It'd be a shame if they got sick of you..."

"Baby doll... Don't keep talking to that idiot, I'll lock you in the house."

He doesn't like you going out to meet other people. Hell, he doesn't even want you to work (as a Hashira or as anything else in a modern-day verse).

He doesn't care if it's your family, friends, colleagues. He's all you should need. All you should want.

So he kisses you madly when you try to leave the house, wraps (traps) you up in muscled arms and kisses you breathless, senseless; littering mulberry, dark hickeys onto your jaw, neck, collar, undoing your clothes so he can worship your cunt.

"See, baby? 'm all ya need," he murmurs against your clit, licking at your folds, plunging his wet muscle into your hole as you cry out. "Let's stay home today, you can go 'nother day."

He marks you often as well — there's not a day where you aren't desperately trying to wear scarves to hide the mark of Sanemi's teeth against your neck or his love bites all across your body.

"You look so pretty, what are you doing?" he says, brows furrowing as he removes the scarves to gaze at you in the looking glass. He looks angry, scowl marring his rugged features. "You don't like them? You don't like what I do with you, to you?"

Your eyes widen, trying to explain yourself desperately before he gets upset, before he gets angry, and keeps you here till you apologise. "No, 'Nemi, of course I love it but it's a bit innappropriate-"

"-I love you and you're calling it indecent?" he hisses, hands coming on your shoulder to turn you around. "You truly think I'm some sorta monster than you gotta hide what I do to you? I thought you loved me."

"I do, I do, I do, I love you so much, 'Nemi, I won't wear the scarves, I promise," you murmur, grabbing his face to kiss him, and he smiles against your lips, victorious.

Sanemi controls your every aspect soon. He likes your fashion but he'd prefer if you'd only doll up just for him, and if you wish to go out, he's damn well at your side.

He glowers at you as you excitedly show him a dress you plan on wearing for the day and when your doe eyes widen in upset that he doesn't like it, he kisses your neck, up your jaw, then your temple, kissing you multiple times, his mouth like a drug to you.

"God, you look gorgeous," he murmurs, "but it's too much, hmm? Change into that lilac dress, yeah? You'll look so much sweeter, doll."

It started off like that but it's get to the point that he starts throwing tantrums, desperate and pathetic, when he sees you wear a dress that shows off the shoulders that he ends up kissing till they're bruised.

When you start crying, he cradles your face, kissing your face all over, wetly and open-mouthed. "Oh, baby, I only want what's best for you, don't you want to listen to me?" He cups the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, mouth desperately kissing your cheek, your nose, your brow. "Oh, don't cry, baby... I'm only doing what's best for you, why won't you listen to me? You wouldn't be crying if you'd. Just. Listen." One hand moves to squeeze your waist, to stroke the tender skin of your lower stomach where your womb lay beneath. "You wanna look pretty? I'll make you look fuckin' pretty- Why're you so damn stubborn? I love you, I love you so goddamn much and this is how you repay me? I buy all the pretty shit you wear, I buy it all for you so you fuckin' owe it to me to listen to me. Aye? Got it?"

When you nod, tears being stroked gently off your face, Sanemi smiles as though he hadn't even yelled at you or kissed you senseless. "Atta girl, my good girl."

But other times, it's not about what you wear but more of who you talk to, he scowls when he catches you talking to someone, and heaven forbid you manage to hang out/train with someone else without him finding out.

He keeps a track of you, always, whether you like it or not. If it's keeping a tracker on you or perhaps stalking you whenever you leave.

He'll go beserk, yelling and huffing, grabbing at your elbows, trying to drag you back home where you belong, and if that doesn't work, he'll cry and beg for you to never leave him, sobbing against your thighs that he wants you stay.

"Why did you lie to me?" he cries. "I thought- I thought you trusted me, don't you love me? I trust you with all my heart, I do everything for you, why can't you love me back the same?!"

And he lets that guilt fester at your heart, makes sure you never even try to utter the word 'break up' or 'leave' him (and if you ever even tried, he'd cover that pretty mouth of yours that he loves so much with his large, broad hand, his eyes bloodshot and crazed, kissing your forehead softly as his hand tightens your delicate face and squeezes till it feels your cheekbones will snap and teeth will shatter. "Don't even dare," he whispers against your ear, kissing your earring, "I'll fucking strangle you if I have to, if it means you'll stay, or maybe I should strangle that darling sister you care so much for...").

He proposes to you quite quickly as well — you're his one and only, his piece of perfection, the only one that matters. He plans the wedding precisely how you would want it and it makes you forget all the bad aspects as he dotes on you for the rest of your life, very rarely having to remind you of your place as you become a perfect housewife for him.

You love him just as much now, whining his name when he has to leave for awhile, but he always kisses and bites you, murmurs how much he loves you (and you know he means it).

He makes sure to bounce you on his cock almost every night, loving how you sob his name is ecstacy, and he makes sure to stuff you full until your belly swells nice and round with his children.

God, he's always wanted a big family, he's always wanted to make sure you never had a single fucking choice other than him.

And he loves it, how you give him child after child, how utterly divine you look as you giggle and chatter, carrying his baby as he kisses your stomach over and over whilst his other children play at your feet.

You really couldn't resist him, could you?

[cinnaminyoons]

!!   jungkook

[ event masterlist ] 

assassins after the same target

alone in the darkroom together

“here to finish me off?”

"i'm going to kill you, ln jungkook."

"wait, nobody told me we're married – babe—"

"don't you dare 'babe' me after ignoring all my texts and declining all my calls," you interrupt with a growl, looming over him as he shrinks back against the wall. "who the fuck do you think you are? you stole my kill."

with an awkward smile, illuminated just barely by the red light in the corner of the darkroom, jungkook says, "i don't know if you're talking about last night's call of duty round or this morning's fiasco."

"fias—" you suck in a hissed breath, pinching the bridge of your nose with the hand not trapping him in place. it needs to be there. jungkook is very good at escaping when he wants to be. "you killed my mark!"

"but you said we share everything," he mumbles cluelessly. "our jobs are the same, so i thought you'd appreciate it if i checked him off your list for you. y'know – acts of service as a love language?"

"that applies to washing the dishes or refilling my gas tank," you sigh, "not stealing your boyfriend's contracts."

he twiddles his thumbs, a tiny pout pursing his lips as he stares at your shoes. or the shadow of them, really – it's much too dark to see a whole lot. he wishes you'd let him step outside for this conversation. "i'm sorry, baby... i just wanted to help out, you know? you're always so busy and i miss you sometimes. like, i know that basically being your househusband would keep me from seeing you as often, but it's hard not to get sad when you're halfway across the world and the only thing i have of you are your clothes. i killed him so that we could spend more time together..."

you can't handle how adorably pathetic he looks, on the verge of tears. your anger dissipates with a breath. you bring him into your arms and kiss his temple, feeling his fists twist in the back of your jacket. he buries his soft, sweet face in your shoulder with a quiet sniffle.

"don't cry, doll," you murmur, stroking his soft, glossy hair. you twirl a lock between your fingers. "i'm sorry for blowing up at you earlier. i was worried that they'd trace and find you because of who that guy was. i was taking my time on purpose, and you just strolled in and popped his head like a grape."

he smiles, nosing your neck. he kisses the curve of it and pulls back with bright, sparkling eyes. "it's okay, baby. i should've asked you first. i'm a big boy – nobody is tracking me. i learnt from the best, after all."

he taps your chest and you smile softly, brushing his messy hair out of his eyes. they hold the galaxy, red dwarves and quantum foam and everything in between. you kiss his eyelids. 

“that you did, dollface. that you did."

you turn towards jungkook's chemical setup, the tubs holding rolls and enlarged prints of your life with him, placing your arm around his little waist. "how's everything going? will we be able to hang these up soon?"

"they're chugging along nicely," he replies softly, hooking his thumb into the belt loop of your crisp black trousers. you're still dressed up from the flight you took a few hours ago to return to him. "just a minute or two more – i can't remember, need to check the clock. then i can start with the fixer and the washes, and we'll be able to take a peek tomorrow and scan them up. i already have one in mind that i'd like to set my profile picture to – i hope it came out well."

"i'm sure it's gorgeous," you hum, "just like you."

he laughs, separating from you to wander closer to the bench, checking the clock. he hovers around the tubs, watching the second hand closely and extracting a roll and a print at the exact moment the hand touches the twelve. he submerges them in the next tubs along the bench. "thanks, baby. i was, um, really scared if you'd kill me. as in, honest-to-god murder me. your opening sentence didn't help, either. i planned this whole, like, dramatic scene for if you were really upset – i was gonna say, 'here to finish me off?' and turn around in a spinny chair and you'd laugh and everything would be okay again."

you chuckle, eyes crinkling, and wrap your arms around him as he transfers the final roll in the dedicated 'wash' basin. "you know me so well. i wouldn't have been able to be angry at you."

he giggles, twirling around and pecking your lips. "mmhm." he entwines his fingers with yours, and his smile sparkles like the diamonds he adores so much. "i love you, baby. i always will."

"i love you, too, kook. once i have a shower, we can do whatever you like to spend those hard-won hours together." he gasps in delight and you grin. "let's watch the first iron man. that one always makes you turn into such a cutie."

"ba-by," he whines, blushing. he's never been more relieved that the room is both dark and lit  by red – the same colour as his cheeks, he's certain. "you're so mean to me."

"sorry." you kiss his cheek. "it's my love language."

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group H, Round 3, Poll 4:

Propaganda under the cut

Nadja of Antipaxos

Gaslights her fellow vampires when she knows she's wrong, gatekeeps info from familiar Guillermo, girlbosses by running her own doomed nightclub

She is the Girlboss, but also Girlloser of the show. Turned her own husband into a vampire (taking charge in a male-dominated field!) And further, in Season 3 she came out on top when her and Nandor were fighting over who would truly lead the Vampiric Council. Opened her own Vampire Nightclub! (Which she embezzled to death but shhh!) As for Gatekeep, she definitely gatekeeps both vampirism (Guillermo) and her friendship (The Guide). Does hypnosis count as Gaslight? I'm gonna count it in because she does hypnotize a lot of people. I could go on and on, but anyways Nadja is an icon and a queen and I love her.

Ianthe Tridentarius

She is trying so hard to be the main character by lying and manipulating her sister, her cavalier, her mentor, her ?love interests? (Spoiler???) And also god. Not sure how it's working out for her but she does love to lie and manipulate

Worstie Ianthe is the DEFINITION of gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss. She is one of a set of necromancer twins that are the heirs to their houses rule. Except wait, only she is a necromancer and she has spent their entire lives doing necromancy for the both of them. She is constantly mean to their cavalier, Naberius, who she occasionally nibbles on like a chew toy, before eventually killing and eating him to ascend to sainthood. She goes to gods spaceship with another woman who ascended to sainthood who she has a crush on, this other woman is like…. Both incredibly mentally unwell and also haunted by at least 211 ghosts. Ianthes method of flirting with her? Gaslighting her about the corpse that keeps moving around and hiding under her bed. For no real reason tbh. She is clearly plotting to overthrow god, and at the moment that consists of her manipulating him while he’s too sad about his long term partners betraying him and subsequently exploding to really care. She dresses in terrible outfits and makes soup by burning onions to the bottom of a pot, putting meat in and some vegetables and then it doesn’t taste like anything so she puts in a few teaspoons of salt so it tastes like a few teaspoons of salt. She had her crush amputate her arm and regrow her a new one out of bone and it’s one of the horniest things I’ve read in my life.

"Gaslight = told her lobotomized (she helped), schizophrenic girlobsession that there was no corpse under their bed, even tho there totally was. Gatekeep = girl did NOT share the secret to god-like ascension. She kept that shit to herself until it was time to eat her boytoy, and by then everyone knew already. Girlboss = she has a non-necromancer twin sister, and literally Everyone thinks they r both necromancers because Ianthe is so good at it. She reverse engineered ascending to the aforementioned ascension without even completing any of the supplementary tasks. She held her own in a fight against a 10k year old lyctor. She becomes the figurehead of her entire empire. "

She uses a man as a chewtoy in the first book, literally gaslights the protagonist of the second book about a corpse, and elder-abuses God when he gets depressed in the third book. Nobody is doing it like her.

Dives headfirst with no regrets while basically laughing and covered in blood into murdering her cavalier once she realizes what the gothic locked room mystery/competition leads to while everyone else is questioning it, helps perform lobotomy on harrow so she doesn't remember the person she loves, manipulates everyone to get to the top

idk just everything about her

her relationship with her sister is incredibly Bad, she fosters codependency and views Corona(the sister) as an extension of herself. This does not stop her from keeping up the con that Corona actually has magic (She doesn't, it was always just Ianthe) for 22ish years and every single person who interacts with them falls for it. She killed a man against his will (most dying for this purpose specifically go willingly) and she consumed him and she will be burning his soul for eternity. She's completely repulsive and still somehow incredibly hot.

she takes advantage of the fact that the main character is prone to hallucinations. at one point she gaslights the mc into believing that the corpse under her bed isn't real just because she can. she reverse engineered a set of very complex trials on her own without anyone realizing she had the skills to complete them normally. she's also babysat god through his drunk and pathetic era.

Artist: @starcanist

[sage-nebula]

Personally, I love that Whisper is a little messy.

I love that she is—for a Sonic character, at least—complicated. Overall, she's a good person. She wants to help and protect others. She's compassionate, and brave. She accepts others for who they are even when it might be inconvenient. (Ian Flynn clarified on a Bumblekast that when Whisper replied "I don't" to Lanolin when Lanolin asked her how she handled Tangle in the Urban Warfare arc, what Whisper meant was that Tangle is her own person and Whisper doesn't try to control her one way or the other. It wasn't her being angry.) She's usually patient and owns up when she makes mistakes. She's smart and capable, but still humble. She's determined and diligent and loyal.

But she is also traumatized, and while some of that trauma comes through in Socially Acceptable™️ ways of being sad and soft-spoken, it also comes through in less Socially Acceptable™️ ways. She self-isolates to the point where it damages her inter-personal relationships, sometimes on purpose. She is willing to commit murder against those who have caused great harm and has attempted to kill both Mimic and Eggman in canon twice each. She can be terse and is hypervigilant and sometimes violent as a result of her hypervigilance, warranted or not. (Because although we know she's right about Duo being Mimic, that doesn't give her a pass to put hands on Lanolin the way she does.) She regularly fails to communicate her feelings until cornered or she hits a breaking point. She spent the vast majority of her time in the story steadfastly refusing to heal from her grief over the deaths of her friends by saving the recording of the moment they died so she could watch it again and again.

None of this to say Whisper is a bad person. She's not. She's a severely traumatized 16 year old girl. She deserves to be given grace. But she is complicated. She's messy. Saving the body cam footage of when your friends were murdered so you can watch it over and over and keep that grief and need for vengeance festering in your heart is not a healthy coping mechanism. Self-isolating to the point where you won't even say goodbye (as she was going to do when she left the Restoration prior to Trial By Fire before Tangle happened to catch her in the act) isn't great behavior, either. And while the topic of whether a villain deserves to die for their actions is a moral quandry comics fans have wasted decades arguing about, the fact remains that the willingness to do so is rare by Sonic hero standards. In fact, it's usually only the antiheroes (such as Shadow) who are willing to do it. But Whisper shot Eggman through the heart in Urban Warfare; he would be dead right now if she hadn't been stuck halfway in cyberspace.

Yes, Whisper is soft with her wisps and her girlfriend and her friends. She tells jokes about toasters. She gets very excited to chill at the beach, and she is willing to put herself on the line time and again to protect strangers. But she is also willing to do the things she feels must be done, no matter how her friends might not approve, and sometimes her coping behaviors (or lack thereof) are awful. This wolf contains multitudes.

And I love her for it.

[ghosttotheparty]

one of us

inspired by this post by @missingexaltation :) also on AO3

Jim Hopper has a bad feeling about this Munson kid.

He’s not really a kid. Hopper knows. Joyce reminds him every chance she gets. He’s not a kid, Hop, he’s twenty-one. You can’t ground him or tell him what to do like he’s El’s age. It makes Hopper feel worse, really.

Especially when he remembers how much Eleven loves him. When she met him, she informed him excitedly that he was bitchin’, which made Eddie laugh out loud. She loves his tattoos, and his heavy rings, and the rips in his jeans. It all makes Hopper grimace.

And it especially make him feel worse that Mike Wheeler likes Eddie. (He and El have broken up, but Hopper still doesn’t particularly like him. He has a soft spot for him just like he does for all the kids, but he’s certainly not his favourite.)

If he’s honest, everybody seems to like Eddie. He gets it, he really does. Eddie is funny, quick-witted in a way that only Erica can challenge. He’s gentle with the kids when they need it, drawing carefully on El’s arm with markers to cover her 011 tattoo, chattering with Will endlessly about that fantasy game they play. He banters with Robin and talks about books with Nancy and makes fun of Steve, who makes fun of him too.

He helps Joyce in the kitchen even though he doesn’t know anything about cooking, even though Joyce tells him he doesn’t have to. He insists.

But Hopper doesn’t like him.

He knows Eddie Munson. He knows his reputation, even before the Vecna-Satanism murder accusations and apart from the fantasy game that everyone in town hates so much. (Hopper knows it’s just a game.)

Eddie Munson always smells faintly of pot, and his clothes always look dirty and ripped and messy. He’s a terrible influence. Mike already has hair as long as Eddie’s, and Dustin’s already starting exclaiming Jesus H Christ the way Eddie does.

Joyce tells him he’s being dramatic, that he needs to give him a chance. But the cop in Hopper can’t leave it alone. So he keeps an eye on him. Every time they’re in the same room, Hopper ends up watching him, carefully observing every move he makes. Eddie sees him looking, and occasionally stares back before looking away with a resigned sigh.

Usually he just ignores him. Continues talking with whoever he’s talking to, goes back to messing with the kids or playing with Robin’s hair.

“You’re staring again,” Joyce whispers softly into his ear, and he startled slightly, looking at her. It’s dark in the living room, but her eyes are shining playfully, reflecting the movie. “He’s not doing anything wrong, Hop.”

He knows she’s right.

Eddie is sitting on the sofa next to Steve, Eleven sitting on the floor between his legs. He’s playing with her short curls. (He insisted that her short hair was also bitchin’. It might have actually made her feel better about it.)

“He looks restless,” he whispers back. Joyce rolls her eyes, looking back at the movie. “I think he wants a fix.”

She shakes her head, looking over at him.

“You’re reading into it,” she whispers. There’s a loud crash on the screen, and Robin jumps where she’s sitting on the floor between Nancy’s legs. Nancy giggles. “That’s just how he is,” Joyce continues. “He’s always fidgeting.”

“Because he does drugs, Joyce.”

“Hop.” She gives him a firm look. He melts. She’s got her hair tied back, her bangs recently trimmed. The light from the movie shifts, sending shadows across her face, accentuating the wrinkles around her eyes before it goes dark for a moment, and in the dark he can just see her face. He remembers sitting in supply closets with her in high school, the flame from his shitty lighter lighting up her face in the dark. He thinks briefly that he’s lucky that he’s known her so long, that he’s gotten to witness every wrinkle on her face come into existence. That he’s gotten to witness her age and watch traces of her years of laughter and sadness and anger smiles make their mark. She’s beautiful. “He’s a good kid,” she says, startling him out of his thoughts.

“…I thought he wasn’t a kid.”

She suppresses a smile and rolls her eyes again, looking back at the movie. He gazes at the side of her face for a moment before he looks back at Eddie.

Or, rather, where Eddie is supposed to be.

Hopper shifts, looking around the room, but Eddie is nowhere to be seen. Eleven is leaning against the sofa, holding Max’s hand as Lucas lays his head in Max’s lap.

“He’s gone,” he says softly to Joyce. She sighs.

“Probably just to the bathroom,” she says dismissively.

“I’ll be right back.” If he catches Eddie doing drugs in his home, he’ll realise hell.

“Oh my god.” She sighs again, shifting so he can lift his arm away from her shoulders, and he gets up, stepping over Mike, who’s fallen asleep with his head on Will’s shoulder.

He checks the bathroom first, but the door is hanging open, the lights off, and he can’t smell anything.

He looks around, the light from the kitchen lighting up the hallway, listening carefully. The stairs always creak, and there’s a part of the landing upstairs that creaks like a haunted house in a low budget horror movie, but he doesn’t hear anything.

Hopper stops, hesitating by the kitchen, when he feels a breeze, and he turns to find the front door hanging ajar.

It’s cold outside. Not freezing, but he’s uncomfortable in just his flannel.

“—just kind of overwhelming,” Eddie’s voice says quietly. Hopper freezes, glancing around.

“I know,” Steve’s voice responds. Hopper tilts his head. He hadn’t even realised that Steve had left too. His voice is low, soft. Almost soothing. “It gets easier, though, I promise.”

Hopper inches across the porch until he gets to the bend, and then he glimpses around it. Steve has Eddie pressed against a banister, his hands on Eddie’s waist, and Eddie is pushing his fingers through his hair. He exhales, closing his eyes. Hopper blinks.

“I’ve never had anything like it,” Eddie says after a moment.

“Like what?” Steve whispers.

Eddie is quiet a moment, looking at Steve in a way that Hopper can only think of a gaze. His eyes flick across Steve’s face, and he gives him a partial smile, pushing his hair back.

“A family, I guess,” he says finally, softly.

Hopper can’t see Steve’s face, but Eddie smiles at the expression he’s giving him, and then Steve is lifting a hand to Eddie’s cheek, and he’s leaning in, and Eddie’s eyes are falling shut, and they’re kissing.

Hopper blinks again, tearing his eyes away after another moment and moving back around the corner, staring out at the driveway. He hears Eddie sigh softly. It’s such a gentle kiss it seems almost out of character for the two of them, so tender and loving that Hopper wonders if everything is okay.

“You ready to go back inside?“ Steve asks softly, and Hopper’s heart palpitates.

“Not yet.”

“Okay.”

It’s quiet again. Hopper takes a moment before he looks back around the corner. They’re wrapped around each other, Eddie’ face buried between Steve’s neck and his own arm, and Steve is murmuring indistinctly, his voice muffled.

Hopper knows he shouldn’t be watching. That this is a private, quiet moment between them. But he can’t look away.

Even when Eddie’s eyes open and meet his. Eddie laughs into Steve’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut, and Hopper’s cheeks flush with embarrassment, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care. Or worry. (Not that he has anything to worry about. Hopper won’t tell anyone. And of course he doesn’t have any problems with it, with the two of them. With this.)

“What is it?” Steve asks, his voice muffled.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Eddie presses a kiss to Steve’s neck. “Kiss me.”

Steve lifts his head with a soft hum and leans in, kissing Eddie deeply as Eddie lifts a hand to shoo Hopper away.

Hopper rolls his eyes with a smile and sneaks back inside. He pauses in the kitchen, pours himself a glass of water from the tap, thinking.

He knows about Eddie Munson. About his parents. About his uncle.

He goes back to the living room after setting the glass in the sink, sliding his arm around Joyce, who looks up at him with raised eyebrows.

“And?”

He pulls her close, kissing her forehead the way he does every chance he gets, almost mindlessly, habitually, like he’s been doing it for years and years. She relaxes against him, setting a hand against his stomach. He’s gained weight recently. He’s not entirely excited about it, but Joyce is. She likes to slip her hand under his shirts to squeeze and prod lovingly, smiling as he rolls his eyes at her. When he commented that he doesn’t understand why she likes it so much, she said she fell in love with him before he was starved in prison. That he’s beautiful when he’s fed and cared for and living instead of just surviving. No one’s ever called him beautiful before. He could just say Oh..

Eleven is happy about it too. Every time she hugs him, she presses her face into his chest and comments that he doesn’t feel like a wall anymore.

“It’s nothing,” he says, kissing her forehead again. “He just needed some air.”

No one notices when Steve and Eddie come back inside except Hopper and Joyce. Steve passes them silently, going to sit on the sofa again, and Eddie pats Hopper’s chest wordlessly before he joins him. Joyce looks at Hopper questioningly. He just shakes his head with a little smile.

He watches as Eddie leans against Steve, setting his hands in El’s hair again, playing with her curls, pulling them out straight before letting them bounce back into place like rubber bands. Steve sets his hand on Eddie’s leg gently, running his thumb back and forth, and Eddie sighs, relaxing. Hopper smiles.

The kids all sleep in the living room. Erica cuddled between Dustin and Lucas, Max’s head resting on Lucas’s stomach, El’s on Max’s stomach. Mike is holding onto Will’s arm when Hopper pauses in the doorway, looking around as the others leave. Joyce is laying blankets over everyone, making Eleven laugh when a blanket covers her face, and Max fixes it, reaching down to hold her hand.

Hopper realises he’s doing a headcount. He shuts the door as quietly as he can when Joyce leaves.

Nancy and Robin take Eleven’s room, both of them sleepy as they say goodnight. Argyle follows Jonathan to his room. Steve and Eddie take Will’s room, but Eddie hesitates, looking at Hopper.

Hopper tells Joyce to go to bed. He’ll be there in a second. She nods and kisses his cheek.

Eddie is sitting on the counter in the kitchen when Hopper joins him. Hopper leans against the wall across from him. He realises that Eddie is wearing Steve’s clothes.

“So…” Eddie starts awkwardly, twisting one of his rings. “I don’t know what all you saw.”

“I saw enough,” Hopper says. Eddie nods. “It’s not a problem, Munson.”

Eddie smiles bashfully, looking down at his hands.

“Does your uncle know?” Hopper asks as gently as he can. Eddie nods, looking up at him.

“Yeah, he’s always known about me,” Eddie says. “It’s kinda the reason I live with him.” Hopper nods, sympathy knotting in his chest. “He didn’t like Steve at first, but… Steve is good to me. Wayne saw how he helped me after a nightmare a while ago. He likes him now.”

Hopper nods.

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Eddie bursts, looking at Hopper with desperate eyes. “Steve doesn’t— He doesn’t want anyone to know yet. Only Robin knows right now.”

“I’m not gonna tell anyone,” Hopper tells him gently. “Don’t worry.”

“Okay.”

“I like Steve,” Hopper declares with a nod. “He’s good with the kids.”

“He good with a lot of things,” Eddie says. Hopper blinks, and Eddie looks up at him, his cheeks flushing. “That sounded… inappropriate, it wasn’t— I just meant, he— he’s real smart. He helped me plan a campaign a while ago, he’s really creative.” Eddie blinks again, inhaling. “Which you also can’t tell anyone, that was a secret— I’m just gonna stop talking.”

Hopper laughs.

Eddie looks startled. A slow smile crawls across his face.

“You’re happy together?” Hopper asks. Eddie nods, still smiling.

“Yes.”

He nods.

He stands up straight, looking at Eddie earnestly.

“You and your uncle ever have any trouble, you let me know, okay?”

Eddie blinks blankly at him.

“I thought you hated me.”

Hopper sighs.

“I’m not your biggest fan—“ Eddie interrupts with a laugh. “I don’t like the tattoos, or the pot, or you encouraging profanity—“

Eddie keeps laughs, covering his face with a hand, and Hopper cracks a smile.

“But you’re still one of us,” Hopper finishes.

Eddie’s smile fades, and he nods.

“Okay.”

His voice wavers. His eyes fill with tears, and then he lowers his face, covering it with his hand again.

“Come here, kid.”

Hopper opens his arms, and Eddie lets himself slide off the counter, and then he’s holding him, smoothing a hand over his hair the way he does to El when she needs comfort.

“So when’s the Byers-Hopper wedding?” Eddie asks when they let go, wiping his face quickly. “I’m invited, right?”

“Go to bed, Munson.”

Eddie snickers and Hopper follows him upstairs.

“I better not hear anything tonight,” he says as they part ways on the landing. He tries to avoid the floorboard that creaks, but it doesn’t work, and he winces.

“Ew.”

“Good night.”

“…Good night.”

———

“Where’d you go?” Steve asks quietly when Eddie enters Will’s room. He shuts the door behind himself gently, turning to look at him. He’s under the blankets, facing the door with an arm folded until his head, almost asleep, his eyes dark and shining in the golden light of the lamp on the bedside table.

“Hanging out with my new best friend, the former chief of police.”

A laugh bursts out of Steve, and Eddie tugs his sweater off as Steve lifts the blankets for him.

“What the fuck?”

Eddie grins, crawling into bed next to him, pressing up against his chest and sighing as Steve combs his hair back, away from his neck.

“He saw us outside.”

Steve’s hand freezes.

“What?”

Eddie moves back to look at him, smiling, and he reaches up to touch his face.

“‘S okay.”

“He didn’t— Was he…”

“He said it’s not a problem,” Eddie says softly, petting his cheek. “And he said he won’t tell anyone.”

Steve stares. Blinks. Exhales.

“Oh.”

Eddie smiles at him and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.

“‘S okay,” he repeats softly. “I think he’s coming around to me.”

“You think?” Steve asks breathily.

“Mhmm.” He kisses him again, relaxing against the pillow. It smells like Will. “Said I’m ‘one of you.’” He gestures quotation marks. “Which kinda makes it sound like a cult, but it’s nice.”

“Guess a cult makes sense,” Steve says softly, sighing and running his hand down Eddie’s forearm, light over his tattoos and scars. “Cult of Vecna and all that.”

Eddie stares at him, wide-eyed, and his smile grows until he’s beaming, and Steve rolls his eyes, his cheeks pink.

“Look at you,” Eddie teases. “Remembering your D&D.”

“You’re telling no one,” Steve says, holding up a finger to point at Eddie’s face, and Eddie giggles, grabbing his hand and bringing it to his lips.

“I’m telling no one.” He kisses his hand again before Steve presses his palm to his cheek. “King Steve’s got a reputation to keep up.”

“Ugh.”

Eddie giggles again, and he presses closer, wrapping his arm around Steve’s neck as Steve lifts his chin so Eddie can nuzzle into his throat.

“Everything’s okay,” he says softly. “Hopper doesn’t care.”

“Everything’s okay,” Steve says, sighing softly. He wraps an arm around Eddie gently, pulling him in tighter and running his hand down his spine. “Eddie.”

“Yeah, baby.”

“…I love you so much.”

Eddie’s eyes fly open, and his fingers run through Steve’s hair again before he pulls away once more, looking into his eyes. Steve looks serious, entirely earnest to the point that he almost looks upset, his eyes flicking across Eddie’s face like he’s trying to read him.

“I love you too,” Eddie breathes.

Steve smiles. He kisses Eddie’s forehead softly, sighing again.

“Light on?”

Eddie nods, tucking his hands against Steve’s chest, curling them just over his heart and letting his eyes close. Steve pulls him close.

“Good night, baby.”

Eddie hums softly, settling against him as he drags his hand over his back. He smiles when Steve kisses the top of his head.

———

Hopper kisses Joyce’s temple as she scrubs a pan in the sink. She smiles up at him.

It’s a lazy morning. Most of the kids are still sleepy, nibbling at their french toast and eggs as they talk quietly. Hopper goes into the living room, rubbing his face, wanting a cigarette.

The kids are everywhere, sprawled across the room, careful not to get syrup on the new carpet. Robin is half asleep, leaning on Argyle’s shoulder, and he holds up a slice of french toast. She takes a bite without moving. Eddie and Steve are on the sofa, talking quietly and gazing at each other like there’s no one else in the world. Erica is asleep on the sofa, her head in Eddie’s lap. One of his arms is set on her shoulder, his hand hovering in the air to block a bright beam of sunlight from her eyes.

Hopper pauses, watching. He doesn’t seem to notice that he’s doing it, protecting Erica so gently, so lovingly. He isn’t even looking, his eyes trained on Steve as he listens to whatever he’s talking about.

Hopper crosses the room, stepping over Will, who’s laying on his stomach, and pulls the curtain almost shut so it blocks the beam of light out. Eddie looks over when he hears the rattle of the rings, and lowers his hand to Erica’s head gently. She nuzzles into his leg.

“Harrington, you want coffee?” Hopper asks as he’s stepping over Will again. He drags a hand across Mike’s face just to mess with him, and Mike almost drops his fork, letting out an indignant Ugh! as he tries to pull his face away. Eleven giggles.

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, looking startled. His face flushes pink. Hopper wonders in Eddie told him about last night. “Sure.”

“Munson? Coffee?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

“Jesus,” Hopper mutters, rolling his eyes as he heads back to the kitchen.

He makes them coffee. Brings it to them and carefully hands it to them, listening to their little thank yous. He ruffles their hair affectionately, and when he leaves, he pauses in the hallway, watching as they whisper to each other quietly and then kiss each other gently, quickly, before anyone sees.

Steve is smiling. The sun is shining.

Maybe Munson isn’t so bad.

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!dreamwalker!reader/female!human!reader

Chapter 6

CW: lots of angst, jealousy is not even the right word to describe neteyam's state anymore, emotionally hurt neteyam, yandere neteyam, reader has a hard time trying to fight her feelings for neteyam, mentions of using someone with the intention of forgetting someone else, mild violence, mentions of sexual fluids, possessive and territorial neteyam, mentions of depressive symptoms, use of alcohol, feelings of fear, tension, confessions of love, fluff. I think that's all (??)

✨ IM BACK ✨ I can't even believe I managed to finally update this fanfic! 😂 All of a sudden I spent days on end being a 24/7 nurse for my spayed kitten and didn't have time for anything + having to give her 2 different pills at 2 different times, all during the am hours, plus another one in the morning, left me SOOO sleep deprived. It was horrible. Thank God she doesn't have to take the pills anymore. ANYWAY lol Guys, in the beginning of the chapter until the middle of it, I think, I know you guys are gonna want to murder me or reader or both (you know that y/n meme with the pic of the blonde girl "choking" her own shadow in the wall, saying like "babe this is not us" or smth? so… pretty much that! lol) BUT I PROMISE it's gonna be really good in the end 🥲 trust me, please 🥺 it's the moment most of us (yes, me included!) have been waiting for! 💕 Also, this is a longer chapter, compared to the usual. Maybe a compensation for my absence? Idk! lol I just hope you guys like it! haha OKAY if I say anything else, it'll be a spoiler lol love y'all to death!!! my readers are my babies, my lil angels… I truly freaking love you guys so much!!! 🫀⚘

Not proofread.

Chapter 5

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

I can see you standing, honey, with his arms around your body

Laughin', but the joke's not funny at all

(...)

I can see you staring, honey, like he's just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Second, third, and hundredth chances

Balancin' on breaking branches

Those eyes add insult to injury 

exile (Taylor Swift, Bon Iver)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

The air was thick and chaotic at the Olo'eyktan's hut that morning. Everyone seemed to be a bit too restless, either getting ready to go show up to their duties to the clan, like Neytiri, or thinking about some personal struggle, like Kiri, who was lost in thought, looking a bit sad. But she was also mixing some herbs and flowers, preparing a thick, violet colored substance that was used to treat wounds, that she would later give to Neytiri. Kiri would always help Neytiri a lot, assisting her in her Tsahìk position in the Omatikaya clan.

But Neteyam still stood out among the whole family. He was unmistakably grumpy that morning, Lo’ak noticed, as he was - once again - watching the weird way his older brother was behaving. Neteyam was not being his usual calm and caring self. He was not trying to take care of everyone, not giving out smiles and trying to cheer his siblings up. He was even distracted when Jake was giving him instructions about how today's training would go and giving him other orders, like telling him to keep an eye on Tuk whenever he's able to, as she was growing and becoming even smarter, more energetic and mischievous and was starting to get into more trouble, sometimes even picking fights with other girls in the clan, becoming a bit too much like Lo'ak, which had been making Jake rub the sides of his forehead in worry lately, way more often than he liked to admit.

"The Mighty Warrior, distracted when dad is telling him what to do?! What the fuck is happening?!" Lo'ak thought. Something was very wrong. And Lo’ak was determined to find out what it was.

Neteyam sat with his legs slightly open, his hands were crossed, his elbows resting on his knees. He had a lost stare in his eyes, gazing at the nothingness, looking like he was mad at someone who had just maybe punched him in the face.

He did not know how to deal with it all, that turmoil of emotions you were causing inside him felt overwhelming to the Sullys first born. He had taken on just so many challenges throughout his life and conquered most of them, but he feared you were gonna be a war that he might lose. He had to admit it bruised his ego. Suddenly, he did not feel like such a Mighty Warrior after all. An adversary that most people would judge as a weak one compared to him, a mere human girl, so small in comparison to his size, was defeating him. Suddenly all his skills with bows, arrows, big knives and even big, intimidating shotguns were not enough.

And Neteyam felt lost. He did not know what to do. For the first time in his life, his rational and smart brain could not seem to produce a war strategy that could help him win. Win you. He felt just like a wounded warrior, bleeding on the floor.

༊⁀➷

You decided to finally answer Derek’s messages today, after ghosting him for a while. You were feeling weird and lonely. And shaken. God, still so shaken... What the hell happened last night? Did that really happen? Was it all just a dream? You could swear those words Neteyam Suli had given you, about how he was in love with you, that his hauntingly tall and broad figure, vulnerable, kneeling on the ground in front of you, telling you he could tell you desired him too, had all been just part of a weird, eerie, anxious, borderline wet dream.

You knew very well what you were doing to Derek. You were using him to forget about the mess Neteyam was making of you. You knew that was wrong and you did feel guilty and ashamed. But you also knew you had to step back into your old reality, into that familiar world, into your comfort zone, a place where there were only regular human guys interested in you, not that current unsettling reality you were living in - you could still swear it had all just been a dream. Or a nightmare, perhaps. You were not sure -, where there was an almost 10 feet tall alien boy pursuing you, declaring his love and his nearly inappropriate desire for you, talking about the intimate parts of your body in a way that made you uncomfortable, anxious but... that lured you in too, at the same time. You needed an escape from it all. Your already disturbed mind did not seem able to deal with those facts at that moment and Derek seemed like the perfect distraction. 

Damn, what had you become? That was not ethical or moral at all - using a human being like a tool to distract you from your conflicting emotions - but you did not seem to be capable of caring too much about being ethical or moral at that time. Your whole perception of the world seemed to be changing. You felt bedazzled and unsteady. You did not want to admit to yourself that you were starting to feel too much for Neteyam, that you were running away from your feelings like a thief runs away with an expensive item he just robbed. No, you were not in love with him. How could that even be? Everybody knew the na’vi don’t get romantically involved with humans. Your races were more like enemies than buddies. There were only a few humans who were loyal to the na'vi and maintained a somewhat close relationship with them, but never a romantic one. What was making you and Neteyam feel like that for each other? That could only bring problems and you sure as hell did not want more trouble in your already complicated life.

You would be better off sticking to a human male instead. It was safe and familiar. It did not make your anxiety skyrocket. But it also did not excite you a single bit. Derek caused you nothing. You could barely even feel actually turned on when he touched your body and kissed your lips. It was just like he was a habit you had gotten used to, making out with him here and there, to numb the pain you felt inside your heart almost all the time. His biggest efforts to make you wet never seemed to work. Meanwhile, Neteyam got you wet without having ever touched you. That sure spoke loud enough. 

So why were you rejecting Neteyam and going after Derek?

Maybe you felt too afraid to take a risk, to follow your heart. God knows following that damn reddish muscular organ had put you in the worst situations possible in the past. You felt numb but you felt safe. And safe felt good. Bearable, at least. You were afraid if you gave into what you felt for Neteyam you just might explode. The feelings were that strong. You did not know what to do to try and ignore that tiny but extremely annoying creature inside your brain that would always be whispering “What if something actually good came out of it? Take a risk. For once in your life, don’t play it safe.”

But you were choosing to play it safe, anyway. At least this afternoon. You were gonna meet Derek, after two weeks without doing so, and just hang out, eat junk food, drink some alcohol and talk about non important things, just laugh and be silly, like you two always used to do. He was a good friend. Too bad he never made any type of fire light up inside of you, not even in the very beginning of your rendezvous, that’s why you never got to have sex with him. You were simply not interested. At all, to be honest. You wondered why you still insisted on being physically intimate with him. There were many things in your life that you did and did not really think too much about. They were just pure routine, they just kinda happened and you let them, almost like you weren't really living your life, but only a mere spectator to the events that were happening to you. And it seemed like you felt too emotionally numb to put an end to them. Your involvement with Derek was one of those things. He started to flirt with you one day, you were bored and you thought "why not?" and now, months later, you were still caught in this situation. If anyone asked you if there was any other reason why you were gonna see Derek today other than to try and get Neteyam out of your mind, you honestly couldn't say there was. It was crystal clear to you that, even though you were fighting like crazy to deny your feelings for Neteyam, you were indeed falling for him.

But how could that be? Some days ago, he was only an Omatikaya famous warrior - and, oh, let's not forget, the next Olo'eyktan of their clan - that you had only heard people talk about.

༊⁀➷

Neteyam was up in one of the highest tree branches he could find that day. He did not want anybody to see him, as usual, but he also did not want you to know he was watching you, either. He knew you were now aware of his constant presence around you. He knew you were not oblivious to his love anymore.

The sun was harassing his eyes, so he put his hand over them and squinted hard to try and see if the guy next to you, in the laboratory’s cafeteria, was really who he thought it was. When his eyes could get a better view, once the sun was not bothering them so much anymore, he felt something sinking in his stomach and his heartbeat accelerated considerably.

He had just confirmed who the guy was. It was that disgusting little human male that liked to act like you were his mate. Neteyam hissed ferociously, his protruding na’vi fangs looking scarier than ever, as his wide feline eyes watched Derek leaning close to your face and kissing your lips. Neteyam wanted to die - or maybe kill Derek - when he noticed you kissed him back.

༊⁀➷

You forced a smile while looking at Derek, after you had the initiative to break that damn kiss who seemed to never end. He seemed satisfied with the fact that you two had just kissed, contrary to what you were feeling. You honestly felt like you wanted to throw up. All you could think about was how it would feel to kiss Neteyam, to smell his scent again, that was so abundantly different from what you were used to, but that fact only seemed to make you want him even more.

You looked away to try and forget the ridiculous mistake you were making by being with Derek at that moment. You were looking at the ground and your gaze moved upwards. Now your eyes were directed towards the outside of the lab. What you saw startled you beyond reason. Neteyam was squatting, up in the branches of a huge tree, not too close but not too far from the part of the laboratory you and Derek were currently in. His fangs were out, seeming bigger than ever, as he hissed ferociously. Neteyam's animalistic side had completely taken over him and you could tell.

A chill ran down your spine. You could feel in your guts something bad was about to happen.

Your heart throbbed in pain as you saw how hurt he was now that he had seen you kissing Derek, even after he - Neteyam - had confessed his feelings for you in such a vulnerable way last eclipse. You saw in his eyes how betrayed he felt, like you were just silently telling him that his love did not matter at all to you and you'd rather be with any other guy but him.

༊⁀➷

"Hey, I'm going outside for a while, 'kay?" Derek spoke as he got up from the place he had been sitting, beside you, kissing your cheek "The boys are gonna meet me behind the lab in a while. "

Oh, no. Derek would not be safe if he went outside. Not with Neteyam spilling hate for him out of his soul like that. You had to try and find a way to keep Derek inside.

"Oh." You said, not being able to conceal your nervousness "Why don't you wait for them to actually get there before you go?!" You almost begged, visibly tense

"God, you seem nervous." He chuckled slightly, seeming uncomfortable " Is everything alright?"

"Yeah! I just want you to spend some more time with me." You pouted at him, coming up with an excuse to try and keep Derek from going out of the lab

"Sorry, sugar. It was nice hanging out and stuff but I really need to go now." He was already walking fast towards the door before you could try and talk him out of that stupid idea

You couldn't let any of the people in that cafeteria know something was up, so, you pretended everything was alright and finished eating your chips and took the last sip of your canned whisky and coke and stood up, walking slowly (when you actually wanted to freaking run) in the direction of the lab's metal door that led to outside.

You put your oxygen mask on, took a deep breath and walked out the door. 

You heard a noise, it was like a really heavy object falling to the floor. You also heard some strong thuds.

When you started to walk around to try and see what was happening, you realized your fear had become reality. Neteyam was sitting on top of Derek’s squirming body, his toned, striped thighs straddling Derek’s torax. You gasped when you realized Derek was no longer wearing his oxygen mask and Neteyam's huge hand was over Derek's mouth, preventing him from screaming for help. Neteyam looked at him like a hunter looks at their prey, while his big fangs and loud hisses put fear in the human boy's eyes. Derek was completely terrified.

Your heart beat sped up insanely and your hands were now cold as ice. You were afraid for Derek’s life.

You knew that the way Neteyam was taking out his frustration and jealousy on Derek was indescribably far from okay but still, as cruel to Derek as it seemed, you still felt incredibly sorry for the Omatikaya in front of you.

At the end of the day, you had a big percentage of blame for what he was doing right now. You were confused and afraid and torn but you knew to whom your heart belonged and it was not Derek. So why the hell were you being so selfish to the point of hurting two boys at the same time just because you didn't know how to deal with your own feelings? You realized it was time for you to stop being a coward and put an end to that madness.

You could tell Neteyam was not okay mentally and you knew that you were being toxic too, that you were contributing for his mental state to get worse with your indecisiveness and fear, despite his efforts to show you he would never hurt you. You wanted to stop hurting him and help him instead, to finally let go and admit to yourself and to him that yes, despite the way you had been acting, you were in love with him too.

"Neteyam, don't!! Let him go, please!!" You shouted, running towards the human and the na'vi boy.

You finally got close to Neteyam. He stopped and looked at you, his eyes so fiery, the calm golden pools they always used to be were now boiling with feelings of anger, jealousy, hurt and betrayal.

"For me! Please?" You pleaded him, looking deep into his eyes while stroking his strong blue arm

You watched that beast inside of Neteyam slowly calm down, as his feline ears pointed downwards and his eyes became softer. He moved his hand away from Derek’s mouth and the human boy let out a series of labored breaths. Neteyam slowly got off of him, revealing his beyond intimidating height as he stood up, and stepped away from him.

You walked as fast as you could to where Derek's oxygen mask was laying on the floor and picked it up, checking if was broken (it wasn't! Thank you, Universe.) and went back to where he was lying down and gave it back to him.

Neteyam watched your movements and felt jealous when you got close to Derek, so, once you got back to the place where you were standing before, Neteyam stood right next to your arm. His instincts told him to mark his territory.

Derek swiftly put it back on. He was almost completely out of breath. Derek breathed in deep once the mask was covering his face, taking in all the oxygen he possibly could.

"Are you okay?" You looked down at Derek’s body, searching for any visible wounds. There were none, at best. "God, I'm so sorry about this…"

"Yeah, I'm fine, somehow." Derek seemed afraid, shocked, frustrated and angry, all simultaneously, as he got off the floor and got back on his feet

"Please, don't tell anyone that you saw Neteyam or that he tried to hurt you, okay?"

"What the fuck?!! This psycho almost tried to kill me!! Why are you defending him?!"

Neteyam hissed at him when he heard what he had just called him but you squeezed his arm and he looked at you, remembering your pleas were the thing that were keeping him from killing that small, pink male. Even though it hurt him deeply that you were protecting that human, he couldn't bring himself to ignore you when you were begging him not to hurt Derek. You had Neteyam in the palm of your hand.

"You don't understand! If you let anyone in that lab know what Neteyam did to you, the RDA will eventually know about it too! Do you understand how serious this is? Do you wanna see Neteyam dead?!" You urged him, looking deep into his eyes "You could even help start another war between the humans and the na'vi. Do you understand that it is a much bigger issue than it seems to be? Just forget about what happened and I'll make sure Neteyam won't ever try to hurt you again."

Derek smirked in contempt 

"How can you be so sure he will listen to you?"

"I know he will! He loves me. And… I love him too."

Derek’s face had a big question mark all over it now and his mouth fell open.

Neteyam seemed to be shocked for a while. He did not expect you to say that, at all. He thought you would never love him back. Neteyam couldn't seem to believe those words had actually just come out of your mouth.

You breathed in deep, trying to stay calm amidst all that chaos "This thing between us…" You looked at Derek "It's over. I don't know why I was still insisting on it, I never even felt attracted to you, in the first place. I'm sorry."

"I'm outta here! All of this shit that's going on… feels like a fucking nightmare"

"Can you do as I said and not tell anyone about Neteyam? Nobody, ever? Please?!" You were nervous, brows furrowed, talking fast

"Okay!! Just let me go now! I think it's better if you and I keep some distance from each other from now on. I don't want your crazy na'vi boyfriend trying to kill me again." 

Neteyam hissed at Derek again when he heard the word "crazy" and Derek rapidly looked at him, startled, but couldn't be brave enough to spend more than some seconds staring at him, so, he swiftly looked away 

"Neteyam, please!! He's going already." You looked at Neteyam, a bit angry and impatient, asking him to calm down "Just go, Derek." You spit out and sighed, feeling physically and mentally drained after having to stop that stupid fight

Derek finally turned his back to you and Neteyam and left.

You looked at Neteyam. His eyes were glued on you. Those pretty amber eyes. His face wasn't full of hatred and anger anymore. His demeanor was much calmer now. His body language radiated love towards you. His tail was wagging softly. You felt pain and regret consuming your chest. How could you have treated Neteyam so badly last night? You realized now you couldn't hold him to the same standards you hold human males. The na'vi are animalistic beings, in spite of their high intelligence. And worse, how could you be irresponsible enough to kiss Derek even not actually wanting to, making Neteyam see it and get as hurt as he did? You sure were being trashy.

"My tawtute…" he cooed as he turned to look in your eyes "I won't let you run away from me anymore." Neteyam had a big smile on his lips "I don't care if you try to. That's all I needed to hear, that you love me. Now that you've said it, even if you didn't say it directly to me, I'm gonna fight for you even harder, even if you keep trying to push me away, I will keep bothering you." He kept smiling, blissful "You're like an Ikran. I just need to be patient with you. Eventually, I'll tame you and you'll be mine. All mine, hi'ì 'emyu." (small cook) "Bonded to me through tsaheylu. I can be patient and I will be."

You could only look at him, stare at his face and ask yourself why. Why was he willing to put so much work into making you his mate? 

"I'm not gonna run away from you anymore." You finally said "I'm done running. I'm done keeping myself miserable and alone because I'm too afraid to trust you and let you in. While trying to keep myself "safe", I was hurting myself and hurting you. I'm not doing that anymore, Neteyam. I was so stupid… I can't really say what it is, but there's just something about you… I think about you all the time, since the first time I saw you when you appeared for me outside that window. I don't believe someone can fall in love so fast but…" You were about to burst into tears "I'm in love with you."

Neteyam looked at you with the biggest smile on his plump lips, while his heart beat uncommonly fast inside his chest. He was overwhelmed with joy but as he was seeing the tears welling up in your eyes, he felt like he was about to cry too. But he didn't. Having learned throughout his whole life to always act with self control and rationality in front of everyone, - not really by choice, but because he knew that was how the Olo'eyktan to be should act, to keep a good reputation, to let his people know he was strong enough to control his emotions and not let them get in the way of him making good decisions for the Omatikaya - his ability to show some aspects of his feelings was a bit impaired now and that included crying. Even though he almost cried in front of you when you rejected him, he couldn't bring himself to cry of joy, now that you were saying that you wanna be with him too.

"I'm sorry for… what you saw. Me and Derek. I never liked him, Neteyam. He was just-"

"Yawne, no." Neteyam interrupted " It's okay. I don't wanna hear about that human." He looked disgusted only by the thought of Derek "And I don’t want you thinking about him either. You're mine now. Just forget about him. It's me that you like, right?" He gave you a gentle smile now and you nodded your head positively "Then focus on me, yawntutsyìp."

You looked at him, shyly, and smiled

"So… Can I ask for a hug, now?" your heart beat fast inside your chest cavity as you nervously said that

"Oeyä tawtute…" (my human) "You don't even need to ask." He opened his big, strong arms as he spoke "Come here."

༊⁀➷

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[deadrayg2mf]

The Gargoyle's Captive (A Deal with a Demon #3) by Katee Robert

Honestly, like, what do I even say at this point that ya'll haven't heard from me about how much I freakin' love Katee Robert and this series. I will keep this one brief for real because if I don't it'll just be like "Oh my god, Ray, shut the fuck up we get it - this book came out three months ago you're late to the party!"

Okay, so aside from it being Katee freakin' Robert, this book is full of enemies to lovers, femdom, grief-consumed protags, and - my favorite, of course - angst. Yeah, did I see the plot twist coming from a mile away? One thousand percent. Did I care? Frick no. Okay, so we're following the same story - deal with a demon, seven years basically married to leader of demon territory, maybe a baby... But this time, it's Grace the monster hunter and Bram the Gargoyle.

Grace is another enjoyable female lead who is a headstrong take-no-shit kinda gal, probably what you would expect from someone who makes a living out of hunting monsters. She's the last of her family and she's really only here for answers because Azazel happens to be the same demon her mother, who disappeared, made a bargain with, and by golly, she is going to get those answers even if it means selling seven years of her life. Bram is traumatized, grief-stricken, lonely, and at this point has the most sad-boy, giving up on life, fuck it energy I've ever seen in a protagonist - and I am so here for it. I eat that shit up. I love the tragics - stories and characters. He's also the last of his family after his entire family was murdered by an outsider his father brought in. He doesn't actually really want to be there but the opportunity and benefits it brings are too good to pass up, especially when you're in the leadership position he is...

I loved the story clearly, and really liked how handling grief was portrayed, no two people will be able to handle it the same even when they are in the same situation. Grace dug her heels in and became even more stalwart and determined while Bram gave in to the grief of loss and resigned himself to an empty life... and even potentially having it purposely ended at the hands of a scrappy little monster hunter in the bath... They are two people coming to terms with events of the past, the shadow of their parents, and suddenly dealing with someone new who they bought at an auction/got auctioned to for the next seven years that they don't necessarily get along with. That's right, they're totally toxic for each other. Don't worry, we're always promising happy endings here :) It's fast paced, there's a lot to get through in 186 pages, but I really think it was done to the best of its ability. Do I wish this was 500 pages? Uh, YEAH, but it is what it is and what it is, is really good. I will admit... it took me a hot minute to slug through obviously. I actually feel a little bad about this review because I was kind of forcing myself to read this. I wasn't in the right headspace and so while objectively I knew I was enjoying it I was also aware that I was, like, not locked in. I am very much intending to reread it when I'm not begrudgingly reading while rotting in bed just because nothing sounds enjoyable.

With that, I swear I am not just pulling shit out of my ass with everything I've told you. I really did enjoy the book, I love the way it's written, I liked the characters, the cover art is amazing, and it's just another great addition to the Deal with a Demon series. I think I'll give it a solid.... 7.9/10 with subject to change in the future :)

Would I read again? Yes, I plan to. Once the pesky ole depression and imminent demise anxiety wear off.

Would I recommend? Of cousre, I'm always recommending Katee Robert... I'm not sure what happens on the day I don't...? Does the world end?

[kurishiri]

12 . . . main story

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: mentions of mental breakdowns, neglect, grooming (?), non-consensual touching, attempted child sexual assault, murder, suicide.

Alfons: To be clear, I don’t mind if you want to run away now? I imagine this is rather hard on your fragile, glass-like heart?

Kate: ...Not at all.

(I haven’t yet heard, what I want to know.)

I shook my head firmly and looked determinedly at Alfons.

His smile widened.

Alfons: ——Well then, I will continue.

A: After Elbie’s mother had took her own life, it was a maid who had discovered the body after entering the room.

A: And his father had cried his heart out.

A: Anyhow, the one who had driven his beloved wife to take her own life, was none other than his birth son…

A: …or at least, he thought he was his real son, when in reality he was born from a man who violated his beloved.

A: It must have been an unimaginable crucible of anguish for them.

—— Elbert’s POV ——

Maid: Kyaaa!! Someone… Anyone, come here! My Lady has, she has…!!!

The maid’s shouts could be heard from Mother’s room.

The memories of what had happened that day still remained extremely vague, even in my dreams.

What I could clearly remember, though, was the sight of my father, who was normally gentle and kind, now in a haggard, worn out state.

That, and how he, too, grew to look at me with the same look of fear and hatred that Mother had.

After that, the portrait of Mother that he had loved so much, was painted over in black.

Just by being by his side, Father would break down crying where he was.

And, as if he had gone mad, he would shake his head and shout.

Hugh: AAAH!!

Elbert: Father! Father, are you alri—

Hugh: Stay, stay away from me…!!

H: Please, don’t come close to me… whenever you’re by my side, I feel like I’ll go crazy!!

Father’s eyes were frightened, as if he were looking at a monster.

Whenever I was at his side nearly every day, he would let out screams that surprised the entire manor, to the point his throat became worn out.

—— Kate’s POV ——

Alfons: Eventually, Elbie said—

A: That could have happened because of his ability to ‘make one relive their saddest memory.’

A: Over, and over again, he might have been showing his father the image of his mother’s corpse. 

A: And it was only after joining Crown and learning of his ability that he realized this, much, much later.

(He means that, without knowing his own ability, Lord Elbert stepped on his father’s shadow, forcing him to relive that memory…?)

It was not unreasonable. But…

(When I think about how much Lord Elbert’s heart must have hurt after learning the truth much later,)

a sadness inside was stuck up in my throat, with no way to let it out.

Alfons: Elbie came to naturally stay out of his father’s sight completely.

A: While he had the heart of a child, it was to protect his father. If he didn’t get close to him, then perhaps his father wouldn’t be sad…

A: It seemed that the ‘comfort’ from the butlers and maids started around then. 

Kate: …

My heart beat with a bad feeling.

I could hear my blood pumping through my veins, and that overlapped with Alfons’ voice.

Alfons: Perhaps, at first their intentions were wholeheartedly good…

A: They eventually ended up gathering around his bedside, surrounding Elbie’s lonely, sleeping figure.

A: ‘You must be so sad, and so lonely. But I will save you,’ they said.

A: With gentle smiles on their faces, almost as if they were singing a lullaby—

—— Elbert’s POV ——

On nights when the wind would hit the window in an uncanny way, and on quiet nights when the moon was pretty,

every night, the shadows of several adults would become longer.

Elbert: Stop it… please, I don’t like this… don’t touch me…

Jeffrey: We love you so much, anyone would want to touch you. And because they want to love you, they embrace you.

Jeffrey, while murmuring of ‘love,’ stood behind the adults who were touching my body and stared at me the entire time.

Jeffrey: Your parents were unable to love you, and so we will love you in their stead.

Elbert: …Love…?

Jeffrey: Just how much does your sad and sorrowful, yet beautiful appearance… stir up the hearts of everyone in the manor?

J: You are sorrowful, beautiful… and pitiable, Lord Elbert.

(This… is love?)

I felt uncomfortable, and I grew more fearful.

But, it was true that Jeffrey, and the people who were touching me, didn’t stare at me like Mother had with caterpillars.

(Maybe, I’m the strange one, for not feeling happy about this?)

I didn’t know. But, I had a feeling that I must not go against them.

As the days passed by, the places they touched me changed.

I felt sick, as if I was going to vomit. And the next thing I knew, I started to feel fearful, unpleasant, and paralyzed.

It was probably that I was dirty, because I was someone born from a sin.

But even so, they said that I was beautiful. I was beautiful, and so they loved me.

(If I become more beautiful, then maybe Father will smile again.)

(He might forgive Mother, and… he might forgive me.)

(——I might be able to stay by his side, without making him sad.)

—— Kate’s POV ——

The moon was overshadowed, and within the darkness that resembled an abyss of despair, Alfons narrowed his eyes, as if yearning for something or someone.

Alfons: The final incident happened with a certain doctor.

A: That doctor would do regular examinations on Elbie’s father, after his mother’s death.

A: One day, while doing an examination on Elbie, the doctor invited him to this study,

A: and attempted the same thing that his mother had gone through, to him.

Kate: …

(That’s too cruel…)

At that time, as if being possessed, Lord Elbert’s fingertips were trembling with small and repeated movements.

Alfons: Sadly, beauty brings out the most nauseating desires.

A: I’ll spare you the details on why I was there.

A: But, I did meet him here, right after he had stabbed the doctor with a pair of scissors.

A: What do you suppose he said to me then?

Kate: ...What...?

Alfons: While covered in blood,

——’Am I beautiful now?’ he asked.

Kate: A-and how did you answer?

Alfons: I answered with the words he wanted to hear. As for what that entails... I will leave that up to your imagination.

Alfons’ complexion didn’t change as he shrugged his shoulders.

Alfons: Elbie ran to his father’s room, still covered in blood.

A: It was several minutes after that when, in front of Elbie’s eyes, his father held up a gun... and pointed it to his own head.

Kate: !? But why...

Alfons: Who knows... that is beyond what I know.

A: In the end, though, his perception of beauty had not saved anyone... is what I do know.

A: Well, how was it? This is his ‘sin.’

The curtain lowered on the story so quickly, I looked at Alfons in astonishment.

Kate: I, don’t know...

Alfons: Oh? I’m not sure I can provide a thoughtful explanation... but what is it?

At Alfons’ words, the emotions I kept bottled up were pushed out like a surging wave.

Kate: What... what is Lord Elbert’s sin?

K: Are you telling me his sin was somewhere in that!?

I raised my voice without thinking, and I heard a light laugh in response.

Alfons: The fact that he wasn’t born ‘beautiful.’

Kate: ...?

Alfons: That is what stole his parents’ love from him, and destroyed his happiness...

A: ...and made them sad to the point they wished for death.

Kate: But that... that isn’t Lord Elbert’s sin...!!

Alfons: The objective truth and the subjective one differ from time to time.

A: At present, Elbie is repeating his meaningless atonement.

A: The more happiness he feels, the more he acts on guilt, and he continues to collect beautiful things for those who have already passed.

Kate: —!

Why Lord Elbert so drawn to beautiful things.

And why Lord Elbert didn’t show any interest toward any of the things he collects.

And why he protected me from seeing something scary the night we met.

At that moment, the reason that had seemed obvious but I was unable to grasp connected with a single line.

(That’s too much...)

—— Flashback ——

Elbert: It’s okay if you don’t see it.

E: ...Because, sad memories can easily kill you.

—— End flashback ——

—— Flashback ——

K: Can I ask why, didn’t you resist?

Elbert: ......I’m used to it. And...

E: With that distance, one careless move and... I would have stepped into their shadows.

E: I don’t want to do that to them.

—— End flashback ——

Lord Elbert hated making others sad.

(That’s because his parents’ sadness had cut their lives short...)

(And he was scared that other people like myself would end up knowing that sadness.)

That is surely the kindness Lord Elbert possesses, without a doubt. And...

...as if to prove that his past was haunting him even now, it messed with his heart.

Kate: Why... doesn’t anyone protect him?

K: It’s not just his appearance... Lord Elbert’s heart is also beautiful, and he is a kind person.

Alfons: That’s because Elbie keeps those who try to protect him at a distance.

A: He doesn’t wish to be protected. To him, he feels he should accept the suffering as punishment.

Kate: What about you, though? Aren’t you by his side...

Alfons: And the reason why is because I don’t try to save him, nor do I try to judge him.

A: To him, I am simply a convenient existence.

A: And it’s the same for me. When I’m with him, it’s convenient for me as well. Even if he is slightly troublesome with his habit of collecting and self-harm.

His words were so logical, it was almost revolting, and they seemed to chase me down.

(But, I can’t get mad at Alfons. Doing so won’t change anything...)

Even as I tried to calm myself, though, my head was still wild, showing no signs of calming.

Alfons: It is as you say — Elbie is ‘kind.’

A: After all, the act of ‘having you’ will give him the most pain and suffering, I reckon.

A: ...It is as he wishes, yes?

(If I become Lord Elbert’s...)

Instead of getting the pain and suffering that he so wishes for, what will he end up losing?

Alfons: This is why I said not to dig too deep... you really are foolish, aren’t you.

A: If you really don’t want to hurt Elbie, as you say, the best way to do that is to make him forget his obsession with you.

A: If you need assistance with putting distance between you two, I can help with that.

After listening to Alfons’ story, I felt even more strongly that there was no way I could put distance between him and me.

(Because... I...)

I couldn’t help but feel that he was too kind — and I found that hopelessly endearing.

Kate: Even if I distance myself from him because I don’t want to hurt him...

K: Lord Elbert will simply repeat what he’s been doing, and continuing hurting himself, right?

K: I... don’t want him to hurt himself further.

K: I will stay with him, by his side.

K: And... I will think about a way so that Lord Elbert doesn’t have to hurt himself.

Alfons: When you came to find me, I did have an inkling... so it’s like this.

Alfons said in a small voice.

I could hear a faint sadness in his tone,

but when he raised his head, his usual shady smile played on his lips.

Alfons: ...Well, do as you wish. However...

A: Do not take his obsession toward things he ‘wants’ lightly — let me just leave it at that.

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[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

North To The Future [Chapter 11: I Will Buy You A New Life]

The year is now 2000. You are just beginning your veterinary practice in Juneau, Alaska. Aegon is a mysterious, troubled newcomer to town. You kind of hate him. You are also kind of obsessed with him. Falling for him might legitimately ruin your life…but can you help it? Oh, and there’s a serial killer on the loose known only as the Ice Fisher.

Chapter warnings: Language, alcoholism, addiction, murder, discussions of sex, sexual content, violence, this chapter has something you’ve been waiting for. 😏💚 (And some things you have definitely not been waiting for.)

Word count: 5.5k.

Link to chapter list (and all my writing): HERE.

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No one knows what to say to you: not Heather when you return to the Jeep with Sunfyre in tow, not your parents when you walk into the hushed house littered with glass bottles and wayward appetizer crumbs. Sunfyre immediately begins assisting with the cleanup effort, sniffing around the couch and under the dining room table, licking up the delicacies he finds there. Your parents look at the golden retriever, look at you, look at each other.

“Um…I’ll drive Heather home,” your mom offers. She finishes the Earl Grey tea she’d been sipping, sets the cup in the kitchen sink, and grabs her keys. They depart into the night together, Heather giving you one last long, sympathetic glance. But still, she doesn’t know what to say. You haven’t told her what you found in Aegon’s apartment, but all the same she can read the horror of it on your face. And perhaps that is more truthful than mere words anyway, unbound by the restrictions of jagged consonants and the curves of vowels, lexicons, syntax, ink.

In the silence, in the sunless dawn of the new millennium, your dad studies you, red dress and mascara-stained face and shoulders limp. He asks tentatively, like stepping through a minefield: “How long will Sunfyre be staying with us?”

“Forever.”

“Okay.” He nods, understanding. He doesn’t need to know the details. Addiction wears many faces—masks it peels off and discards until it finds the flavor you like best, the one that can knot itself around your throat—but its soul is always the same, grave-cold and grasping. “I’m sorry about Aegon. I’m sorry that you had to find out what this feels like.”

“He’s leaving. It’s over.”

Your dad smiles, profoundly sad, dreadfully patient. “I’ve heard that before.”

You’re so heartbroken and ashamed that you can’t meet his eyes. Jessie died twenty years ago, and now it’s all come back around again. He must feel like he’s seeing ghosts.

Your dad sits down at the dining room table, sighing deeply, rubbing his forehead with his thumbs. And he’s not talking about Aegon anymore. “I’ll never stop living in that man’s shadow. I know it. Your mother knows it. It’s not something we’ve ever discussed, but it’s there. And I can’t even resent her for it, because she would forget him if she could. I fully believe that. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t love me and the life we’ve built together. But it does mean there’s a part of her that will always be somewhere else. In another room, in another time. And I wonder sometimes…if there is an afterlife, if there is a cosmic Round Two where we all meet up someplace with harps and angels and cities made of clouds…who she will be standing with.”

The terror is overwhelming. Does it never end? This pain, this longing, this irrational hope? You wonder if there’s any cure for what you’re feeling. You wonder if your dad was ever some tedious, try-hard jock that your mom avoided at bars and parties.

“I know it hurts,” your dad says. “I know it hurts like hell. But I think it’s better if you can end things sooner rather than later. Because I imagine that once you start loving someone like that”—someone brilliant, someone broken—“it’s very difficult to stop.”

It’s too late, you know. You smooth the bloodlike satin of your dress, trying not to start sobbing again. It’s too fucking late.

“Jesse used to do things like that.” Remarkably, there is still anger in your dad’s voice: rusty, treacherous, decades-old anger. “He would make plans and make promises, and then your mother would be sitting there waiting with a suitcase and he’d act like it never happened. I don’t know if he really forgot or if he had to pretend he did because he’d blown all the money. And then of course he’d apologize and promise to make it up to her, buy her flowers, pour her tea. He was always saying they’d go to London together. They never did. They never got out of Alaska.”

The tea, you think, dismayed. The Earl Grey tea. Just like Aegon’s hot chocolate. It’s like looking at yourself in a mirror. It’s enough to drive someone insane. “I need to go to bed now,” you say, your words weak and splintering.

“Okay. Okay, ladybug.” He looks sorry, like he knows he’s said too much. He gets up to hug you goodnight. He’s immense and warm and strong, yet careful, yet benign, yet so palpably ordinary.

Why can’t I fall in love with someone like you, Dad? Why can’t I be happy here?

He helps you put out food and water for Sunfyre, and when you volunteer to gather up some of the trash in the living room he adamantly refuses. You climb the staircase in the high heels you hardly ever wear, your skull flooded with unwelcome reminders. Aegon was supposed to be here with me. In my house, in my room, in my bed. Now he’s nowhere. And he’ll never touch me again.

In your bedroom mirror, you stare at your reflection. You can’t explain it, but you don’t look like yourself. The red woman in the silvery glass is not self-possessed or pragmatic or wise. She is a frayed thread, and she is desperately, irrevocably sad. You step out of your heels. You unzip the back of your dress. And before you take it all the way off—Aegon was supposed to do that part—you tear the magazine cutout of the Mustang convertible flying down the Pacific Coast Highway off the mirror. You rip it in half over and over again until it is a flurry of unidentifiable scraps on the floor. You think of how you have never acted selfishly, never acted irresponsibly. You think of how far that dedication has gotten you. Not far enough. Nowhere near far enough.

You are trembling with exhaustion and fury. Your eyes hurt, your ankles hurt, you hurt in places so deep you can’t name them. You think of all the things about Aegon you were willing to overlook and how vanishingly little he could give you in return. You want him here, and because he’s made that impossible you want revenge; you want him to feel as viciously, nauseatingly betrayed as you do. You want to do something he could never forgive. You want to knock his memory out of you like the asteroid killed the dinosaurs.

She’s hoping in time that her memories will fade.

You see it in a sudden, scarlet vision: how enraged Aegon was when he thought you had slept with Trent, how he tensed up every time Trent touched you, how he didn’t want you to be alone with him. You see how Trent has been throwing himself at you—like a skydiver out of an airplane—in a way that is somehow both frightening and shamelessly pitiful. You had once told Aegon that Trent didn’t want you dead. I know, Aegon had replied. He wants you to be his wife.

You pick up the phone on your nightstand, and then you pause. Can I do this? Can I really?

You couldn’t yesterday, and you probably won’t be able to tomorrow. But right now…

You dial the number for Trent’s apartment across town. He answers on the second ring. “Sup?”

“Hi, it’s me. Are you busy?”

“Hey!” There’s a boisterous grin in his voice. “Nah, not at all. You need something? Are your parents rearranging the living room furniture again?”

“I don’t need anything, but I’d like something.”

“Oh yeah? What?”

“What you’ve been waiting for.”

Stilted, silent seconds tick by as he puzzles it out. “For real?” He’s ecstatic, yet circumspect.

“For real.”

“Why? I mean, I’m not complaining, maybe I shouldn’t be asking questions, maybe I should just be sprinting for my truck, but I’m…uh…you changed your mind?”

“It’s not a marriage proposal, Trent,” you tell him. “It’s not a date. I just want to start out 2000 the right way.” Without Aegon. Without any threads still connecting me to him.

“Hell, I’ll take that,” he says, chuckling.

“You have to come here though. It has to be at my house.” Where your parents are just a few rooms away. Where Trent will have to be the best possible version of himself.

If he was really the Ice Fisher, why would he have saved Aegon from the channel? Why would he have been so unabashed about his anger, his strength, his size 12 boots? This killer is quiet, strategic, invisible. That’s the only way he’s managed to murder five people without getting caught. Perhaps Trent really does lack the requisite subtlety…the requisite intellect, to be perfectly blunt about it. But then who else could it be? Who the fuck could it be?

“Totally. On my way now.” Trent hangs up.

When he arrives, your parents are still downstairs cleaning up after the New Year’s Eve party. They greet him warmly and (seemingly) without much surprise. He flips his hair and offers to lift the couch so they can get the bottles that have rolled underneath. They gratefully accept. Small talk and festive merriment are exchanged, and you marvel at how seamlessly Trent blends into this family, into this house, into Juneau; he was made for Alaska. It’s in his strapping muscles and lumbering bones. It’s in his claustrophobically small mind. And then you lead him upstairs.

You don’t waste any time talking. Already you’re losing your nerve, already you have a voice surfacing in the choppy waves of your mind like a drowning man: You don’t want to do this, you don’t want to do this, you know you don’t want to do this. You tug off Trent’s blazer, button-up shirt, and khakis and shoo him onto the bed. Then you take off everything that you’d put on for Aegon, back when the Alaska Standard Time Zone was still living in the dark dwindling hours of 1999.

You’re in control the whole time because you don’t trust Trent to be. You don’t want him to be. You don’t even want to think about him. It feels like nothing. There’s no moment to get lost in, because it’s not a moment at all. It’s just logistical adjustments and premeditated reactions and flesh, heavy, crushing, bumping, artless flesh. Your thoughts are far from this room, drastically far. You hope Aegon drives by in the morning and spots Trent’s truck in the driveway, or he hears about it, or he reads it in the straightforward, chiseled lines of Trent’s face next time he sees him. You hope it digs its razored claws into him and never lets go. You hope it fucking destroys him.

As soon as it’s over you get into the shower and scrub off every remnant of what you’ve done. You regret it immediately. Aegon shattered any chance the two of you had and you ended it, so you don’t know why this feels so much like infidelity; perhaps because the reality of it is less like betraying Aegon and more like betraying yourself. In the foggy bathroom mirror, you notice that Trent left a darkening violet bruise on the side of your neck. You don’t even remember him doing it. You were so far away from him: miles away, years away, in the ambiguous future, in the lurking past. You can’t stand the thought of sleeping next to Trent. You suggest he claims the living room couch instead, complete with fresh sheets and several spare pillows. He gamely agrees.

You are optimistic that Trent will be long gone by the time you wake up. But when you venture downstairs at just before noon on New Year’s Day, you find him in the kitchen making breakfast with your parents, flipping pancakes and turning bacon and whistling along to the Red Hot Chili Peppers song that spills from your dad’s record player: not Scar Tissue this time, but Otherside.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s Monday, January 10th when the green Nova skates into the vet clinic parking lot and slides to a slippery rest across three different spaces. As the engine dies, the song that was blaring is cut short: I Will Buy You A New Life by Everclear. Aegon steps out under the fading midday sun, almost falls on the ice, traverses slowly and cautiously towards the entrance.

“Oh no, not him!” Jennifer laments. You rush back into the exam room and slam the door.

You haven’t seen Aegon since New Year’s Eve, but you knew he hadn’t left Juneau. You’ve spied the Nova parked outside his apartment building, and Heather has run into him around town: the Foodland, the Gas ‘N Go, Ursa Minor. And then there are the phone calls. He left fifteen messages before your dad picked up and politely asked him to stop calling. Then he started putting notes in the moose-shaped mailbox.

You can hear Jennifer telling Aegon to leave. She must not be very persuasive. He bursts through the exam room door and closes it behind him. He’s wearing all black—parka, turtleneck sweater, jeans, combat boots—and his white-blond hair slicked back from his face. It gives the impression that he has no distractions, no secrets. You are suddenly acutely aware of your own, your skin crawling everywhere Trent touched you. The bruise on your neck has vanished, but the memory of it is still trapped there, heavy and scorching like shame.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” you say coldly.

“Then you should have picked up the phone.” Aegon throws it down on the metal exam table: not a thick, neatly-sealed envelope but a lump of mismatched crumpled cash—ones, fives, tens, twenties—knotted together with several rubber bands.

“What is that?”

“It’s your half of the money for the San Diego trip.”

“How—?”

“I picked up every shift I could and I sold the necklace.”

“You sold it? Permanently? It’s gone?”

“It’s gone,” he agrees. He looks good. He looks more than good: the shadows under his eyes are almost nonexistent, his skin is bright and healthy, he’s even standing taller. He moves so he’s not blocking the door, so you have an escape if you want it. You don’t leave. You wish you wanted to, but you don’t. You just don’t. “It doesn’t matter. It was the last thing I had from home, it was time for me to let go of it anyway. That was my insurance policy for anytime I needed quick cash…I’ve probably pawned it fifty times in the past six years. But this was important.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” you say. “I told you I wanted you to leave Juneau and I meant it.”

He searches your face, his eyes blue and clear and wide. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I did,” you insist, lying.

“Look, I’m…” He presses a palm to his chest. He glances down at your right arm, then comes back to your face. “I am so, so sorry that you had to see me that way. I’m sorry for what happened. But it’s not going to happen again.”

“I don’t believe you. And I’m not interested in making plans and sacrificing so they can be a reality and then waiting around to see if you ever show up.”

“I’ll show up,” he swears. His gaze flicks down to your arm again.

“What are you looking at?”

He doesn’t reach for your forearm. Instead, he points to his own. “I remember grabbing your arm, but I don’t know how rough I was.”

“Oh. No, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. I don’t think it even left a mark.”

He exhales, relieved. “Good.”

There is a lull that is quiet and still but not awkward. You can hear the clock ticking on the wall, miserably prophetic. The way I feel about him hasn’t changed, you realize with disbelief. I still want him in a way that is helpless, all-consuming. I still love him.

“What happened was a mistake,” Aegon says, slowly and with great effort. “But it wasn’t random.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“This isn’t going to make any sense to you, it’s going to sound insane. But I don’t like New Year’s Eve.”

“Well I don’t like having a heroin addict boyfriend.”

“I’m not a heroin addict.” His voice is sharp and forceful, but not cruel. “It was a momentary relapse, I detoxed on my couch, I’m fine now.”

“Why don’t you like New Year’s Eve?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

You scoff bitterly. “More lies?”

“Not lies,” Aegon says. “Secrets. I haven’t lied to you.”

“Yes, you have. You said you’d be there.”

He shows you the palms of his hands, empty. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s not good enough.”

“I want this,” Aegon says determinedly. “I’m not ready to give up on this. I want you back.”

“Why can’t you leave me alone? Why can’t you just jet off to some new city and resume sleeping your way through the eligible bachelorettes of the world and then maybe I could try to move on, maybe I could—”

“Because you ruined me!” he shouts. “Because I used to be that guy who didn’t care, I used to be able to be content with meaningless replaceable flings and now I’m this idiot who doesn’t even see other women. I tried to replace you. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t even invite a girl to come home with me, it was all too goddamn sad. I’ve been with one other person since I met you, and that’s Kimmie, and it’s been over for weeks, and you knew about it the entire time, and that was nothing like it is with you. I don’t want anyone else. I’ve forgotten how to want anyone else. I don’t know how you managed that. I don’t understand what kind of black magic you have swimming around in your blood, but whatever it is worked on me. I’m hooked, baby. I’m fucking hooked. I’ll do whatever you want to make this work, just name it. Please just name it. I’m giving you the money back to show you that I’m sorry and that I know I messed up. But I still want to go to San Diego with you. Hell, I’d go anywhere with you. I’d go to Omaha fucking Nebraska if that was the place you’d dreamed of, the place you hung pictures of on your bedroom mirror. I want you back.”

You don’t have to say that you want him too. Aegon can read it on your face, can see the fight bleeding out of you like the sea at low tide. He’s going to find out about Trent, you think with ice-cold dread. Sooner or later, he’s going to find out and he’s going to lose his goddamn mind. Since he left your house on New Year’s Day, you’ve avoided Trent. What Heather said must have made quite the impression, because he hasn’t tried to pressure you into inviting him over again; he has given you a wide berth of space, passing waves and smiles but no demands. Still, he has this glow. He thinks that night was a stepping stone to something more. He thinks he’s got a real shot now, and he’s basking in the gilded potential of it. I made such a mistake. It feels like everything I do now is a mistake.

“And besides, even if I was willing to go, I can’t leave yet,” Aegon says. In explanation, he looks to the flier on the wall, the one with the shadowy red-eyed specter in a trench coat. Report suspicious activity immediately! Beware of strangers! Help keep Juneau safe! The sixth and seventh victims were pulled out of Crystal Lake three days ago: a couple this time, newly engaged, mid-thirties, snatched while they were hiking in the Tongass National Forest. No one died while Aegon was in the hospital, you think randomly, vaguely. Is that a coincidence? Or is that a clue?

“Aegon, how could you possibly protect me from the Ice Fisher when you’re passed out drunk at night? Or when you’re working on a boat out in the channel, or when you’re singing rock songs at Ursa Minor? You can’t follow me around all the time. And honestly, I think if the killer really wanted me, he could probably get rid of you too.”

“If I leave and I find out later that something happened to you…that maybe, somehow, things might not have gone that way if I’d stayed, that the dominoes could have fallen in a different pattern…I’ll feel responsible. And I’d never recover from that.”

His tattoo flashes in your mind like high-beams: I’m a killer. It’s a strange thing to get inked just above your heart, even if it is a Johnny Cash lyric. It’s a little too dark. It’s a little too real. “Okay,” you hear yourself tell Aegon. “You can stay, I guess.”

“Great. Also, I need my dog back.”

“He’s happy where he is.”

“I don’t doubt that. But he’s mine, and I need him.” And when you hesitate, he adds: “If you’re so worried about Sunfyre, I would encourage you to stop by any time you’d like to check on him. And me too, obviously.” He takes his keyring out of his pocket and slips off the spare key for his apartment. Then he holds it out to you, a sliver of gold in his palm. You consider the key for a long time before you take it.

“Fine. I’ll bring him over in a few days if you’re still sober. Well…your version of sober.”

“Deal,” Aegon says. “You haven’t been at Ursa Minor recently.”

“Yes. Because I didn’t want to see you.”

Aegon shrugs, his hands in the pockets of the black parka you gave him. “Maybe you’ve changed your mind about that. Maybe you’ll show up tonight. I hope you will.”

You can’t decide how to reply. Aegon leaves while you’re still mulling it over, a vast silence stretching out between you like the void between stars.

~~~~~~~~~~

Your parents don’t want you driving alone at night. They convince you to carpool with Heather, a prospect which elates her. “You’re finally leaving the house?!” she exclaims when you call, the vibrations of her voice shrill in the phone receiver. “You’re finally going to be kind of fun again?! Hold on, hold on. I’m just sending a quick mental thank you to sweet baby Jesus. And Buddha, and Allah, and Brahma, and Thor.”

“Odin’s the king of the Norse gods.”

“Bitch,” Heather says gleefully, and hangs up.

When her Chevy Suburban rolls into Ursa Minor’s parking lot—the night indigo and starless, the ochre streetlights dim—Heather kills the engine and opens the driver-side door. Frigid wind gusts into the cabin. She glances back, realizes you haven’t even unbuckled your seatbelt, and pulls her door shut again.

“What?” she asks.

You look at her, miserable and mortified. “I made a mistake.”

“Yeah, you wore that ugly fucking grandma sweater instead of something hot.”

“No, Heather,” you whisper, tears brimming in your eyes. “I really made a mistake.”

She is concerned, mystified. “What did you do?”

“I slept with Trent.”

“You what?” She blinks. “You what?!”

“I called him after the New Year’s Eve party.” You speak quickly, like tearing a bandage from a weeping, still-inflamed wound. “I was upset and I wasn’t thinking clearly and I asked him to come over. It was horrible. He doesn’t seem to know it was horrible, but it was for me. I mean, he wasn’t aggressive or anything, he didn’t do anything wrong, he just…he wasn’t who I really wanted.”

“He wasn’t Aegon,” Heather says quietly.

“Right.” You swipe away the tears that escape down your cheeks. “And now Aegon’s going to find out. I know he is. At first I wanted him to because I wanted to hurt him, I wanted to hurt him as badly as possible. But I don’t feel that way anymore. And I can’t take it back. Trent thinks I like him and Aegon is going to hate me and I’m…I’m just…” You break down sobbing, covering your face with your hands. “I’m just so fucking stupid. My entire life I had meticulous plans and I checked every box and now I’m this fragile, illogical, aimless, stupid loser who can’t manage to hold on to anything she wants. I can’t fix myself and I can’t fix anyone else either.”

“So you fucked up,” Heather says casually. She’s not really casual, but she’s doing a good job of making it seem like she is. “So you slept with the wrong person or said the wrong thing or made a wrong choice, or two wrong choices, or ten, or a hundred, or a thousand. Who hasn’t fucked up? I have, Joyce has, Kimmie definitely has. So what? It’s not like you killed somebody. You learned from it. You’ll be a better person in the future. Regret is a useless, poisonous emotion. It’s something evolution should have bred out of us eons ago. You don’t have to carry this weight around forever. You can let yourself bury it.”

Under the dim, yellowish streetlight luminescence like a sepia photograph, you give her a weak smile. “Really?”

“Really.”

“I love you.” And then you add, so she knows you’re okay: “Bitch.”

Heather laughs. “Let’s go get you drunk. Bitch.”

You hurry together to the front door, braced in hats and parkas against the wind. Inside, it is odd to see Ursa Minor stripped of all its Christmas decorations. The multicolored lights have been taken down, the ornaments removed from the taxidermy deer heads. From Dale’s stereo soars Shania Twain’s You’re Still The One. You hear Heather’s boots squeal on the hardwood floor as she stops dead, and then you see him too: jet black suit, spidery limbs, long silvery hair that is not unruly or tangled but pin-straight. He’s sitting at the bar with his back to you. The fingers of his right hand—elegant, willowy, uncalloused—are closed around a frosty Caipirinha.

“Oh my god,” Heather breathes. “There’s two of them. The Greek boys.”

If Aegon knows he’s been found, he’ll leave. And only now can you feel the true, unmitigated devastation of it. Had you really told him to leave Juneau just ten days ago? Had that really been you? No no no no no no. He can’t leave. He can’t leave.

“Don’t talk to him,” you order Heather in a whisper, then bolt to the usual booth. Kimmie, Brad, Joyce, and Rob are already there, eyes startled and darting from you to the stranger at the bar. “Kimmie, do you still remember Aegon’s phone number?”

“Huh? Yeah, um, I think so.”

“Here.” You root around in your purse for loose change and press several quarters into her palm. “Take this. Find a payphone outside. Call him and tell him not to come to Ursa Minor tonight.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t understand, but she’s obedient. Brad goes with her. When they open the front door, the stranger at the bar glances over to make sure no one new has arrived. That Aegon hasn’t. Because this is exactly where he’d be.

Another wave of horror crashes through you. He knows Aegon so well. We’re in such fucking trouble here.

As Dale finishes serving locals at the other end of the bar and returns to his section, the stranger begins asking him something. You have to shut it down; you have to stop Dale from telling the stranger that Aegon lives in an apartment building just down the street. You can see it from Ursa Minor’s parking lot. It’s a distance that could be closed in ten minutes.

You go to the bar and sit immediately beside the stranger. Dale—seemingly relieved—excuses himself, but not before raising his eyebrows at you. Crazy world, right ladybug? that look says. He sets an apple Bacardi Breezer on the counter and is gone. The stranger turns to you, and your jaw falls open before you can stop yourself; the gasp hisses free.

The stranger smiles, like he’s caught you in a lie. The right side of his face is pristine: angular, regal, beautiful in a way that is gem-rare. The left is bisected by a scar, gnarled and old. His left eye is gone. The scraps of his lids are ragged. In the useless, gutted socket is a gleaming sapphire stone, like what the ocean looks like in the pictures you’ve seen of California. “You must know my brother.”

I have to distract him. I have to get rid of him. “Oh yeah. Totally. He talked about you and Helaena all the time.”

The stranger’s lips curl into a sly smile. “Even he forgets about Daeron.”

Aegon, Helaena, Daeron…and at least one more sibling. This one. The determined one, the capable one. You don’t know what to say; you give him a vague smirk in return. The bells on the door jingle as Kimmie and Brad scurry back inside, cold wind chasing them and clawing at their hair. Kimmie shakes her head at you. No luck, she means. Aegon didn’t answer. Probably because he’s already on his way here. The stranger notices this exchange. He notices just about everything. And there’s no way for you to tell Kimmie or Heather what you need from them without him knowing. To stop Aegon from coming here. To stop him from being caught.

The stranger offers you his hand. “Aemond Targaryen,” he introduces himself. “Targaryen Enterprises.” His voice is unlike anything you’ve ever heard: low but soft, effortlessly dignified, beckoning you to lean in closer. Aside from the shade of his hair, he is very little like Aegon. He is tall and precise, every movement purposeful. Aegon slouches and flops and makes dramatic, unrestrained gestures; this man is a sculpture of marble and blue. This man is a work of art.

You shake his hand—cool and smooth—and tell him your name. “But Aegon always called me Appletini.”

“Appletini? Like the drink?”

“Exactly.”

“Yes, that sounds like him.” His eye sweeps over you. What he asks next doesn’t sound like a question at all. It sounds like a command. “Where is he.”

“Gone,” you say, perhaps too quickly. “He left last week. He’s in Chicago now. You’re a little too late.”

Again, Aemond smiles. He sips his Caipirinha. “Hm.”

The front door opens. You and Aemond both whirl towards the clanging metal bells. Aegon shuffles inside; he’s beaming, he’s humming brightly. He drags his boots on the doormat, kicking off most of the snow. And then he looks up. His face goes entirely blank; his eyes are mindless and panicked like a trapped animal’s, iron jaws snapping shut with such force they crack bone. A second passes, two, three. Then Aegon spins around and sprints out of the bar.

“Aegon!” you shout. 

Aemond knocks his Caipirinha off the counter as he leaps to his feet and races after him; glass and lime slices spew across the floor. You follow Aemond as closely as you can, running out into the frigid darkness, your boots slipping on ice and crunching through mounds of snow. Aegon makes it a hundred yards up the street before his brother catches him. Aemond grabs the hood of Aegon’s parka, yanks him backwards, slams him face-first into a green Dodge Ram that is parked on the shoulder. Blood gushes from Aegon’s nose and splatters against the truck’s icy window. His lower lip is split; his eyes will blacken. He struggles futilely.

“Let me go—!”

“Six years!” Aemond seethes, pinning Aegon to the truck by his throat. “Six Christmases, six birthdays, six Januarys since you left and not a single phone call, no letters, no postcards, no emails, nothing, and who had to be there to comfort our mother? Who had to be there trying to convince her that you weren’t an unclaimed body on a slab in a morgue somewhere?!”

“You’re all better off without me,” Aegon moans, his skin stained red. Aemond smashes his face against the truck again.

“Stop it!” you shriek.

“You don’t get to leave,” Aemond growls at his brother. “You don’t get to abandon your responsibilities.”

“I won’t go back,” Aegon wheezes. “You can break every bone I’ve got, but I won’t go back. If you kill me, you can take me home in a box, I guess. But that’s the only way I’m going.”

Aemond shoves him away, disgusted. His brother sinks down into the snow, groaning, feeling his face with trembling hands to assess the damage. “I saved you,” Aemond says with cold, black fury. “I saved your life and you’re just throwing it away.”

“She doesn’t know,” Aegon rasps, his voice choked with blood. “Let me tell her. It should be me. Please don’t say anything. Please let me be the one to tell her.”

Now Aemond turns to you, as if suddenly remembering you’re there. His remaining eye narrows. He is deeply, genuinely perplexed; you’re a brand new species, you’re a comet that hasn’t clipped by Earth in a millennium. He says to Aegon, still looking at you: “Your type must have changed.”

“No, my type is still groupies and strippers,” Aegon replies, and spits a mouthful of blood into the snow. “I just fell in love with this girl.”

[bo0tleg]

Gems me and my friend said watching Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005) for the first time;

"This man (Harry) is neurodivergent." "OH MY GOD I WAS GONNA SAY THAT TOO."

"We're twenty minutes in and this guy only gets screwed! Can someone screw him good, for once, please?"

"Gay isn't even doing much." "His name is Perry." ".... I thought Perry was his last name." "What, no, his last name is Van something something." "Then why do they call him Gay Perry?"

"No straight guy would say 'I'm profoundly within the pussy.'" "It's knees deep in pussy." "Oh."

"I thought he meant that he's deep within the pussy." "No, he's just surrounded by it. Like there's a lot of pussy." "WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN!"

"... He's not a very good detective is he?"

"Do you know what f*ggot means?" "No."

"By the lord, what can go wrong now-- OH MY GOD THE CORPSE"

"HE WASN'T HIRED TO FIND THE MURDER, HE WAS HIRED TO HIDE THE CORPSE!" (This notion was proved, in fact, wrong)

"I just imagine someone seeing that corpse flying off the roof and bei-- AAAAAAHHHHHH KISS?!"

*Lost our shit when Harmony appeared after the Kiss* "DUDE! Oh my god... This guy.... He has to explain the kiss, and why the cops are looking for him, AND the corpse is still there, with the car shaking from Perry manhandling it. What can he say?"

Harry, on screen: "I managed to convince her that I wasn't gay." "HOW?"

"Love the snap snap, you go girl." (About Perry)

"Harry's the only sane one in the group. He fucking screams when he sees the corpse, he screams when someone gets shot, he screams... He screams."

"Everybody else is too ok with everything going on in this shit."

"I can see Perry's foreboding shadow in the crowd, fully expected him to be the only one to lift his hand when Harmony asked who hates Harry."

"Did he just...." "Graciously duck away from a flying glass, yeap."

"Are these two (goons) having a couples bit right now?" "I mean, they said that... *Rewinds* They were wondering why a guy like him (Harry) was hanging out with gay people." "Do they mean themselves?" (They did NOT, in fact, mean themselves. They meant Perry.)

"Love how Harry's just watching them bickering like should I run? Should I stay? Do I kill myself?"

"Honey, you can't be stealthy with that outfit. The fucking pom pom borders on your skirt are literally shining in the light."

"Gay, stop frolicking and look at the car that's about to run you over."

"HOW DID SHE NOT SEE HIM IN THE CAR?" "He was asleep...."

"His finger is still fucked up by the way. He never did get to that fucking hospital."

"Imagine finding a stranger just walking into your house." "IMAGINE SLEEPING IN A CAR THAT'S NOT YOURS ON A RANDOM STREET AND WAKING UP IN SOMEONE'S HOUSE."

"Oop, and there goes the finger. To the butthole."

"I can't understand a single thing that's going on, but I don't even give a fuck."

"WHY is it so important that the dead girl wasn't wearing underwear!"

Perry, on screen: "This isn't Good Cop, Bad Cop, it's fag and New Yorker, now spill." *Both tumbled over in laughter, and proceeded to repeat that for the rest of the movie*

"Why does he look so happy at the prospect of getting patted down?"

"His penis can shoot?"

"You know, I'm starting to think that when he said he was knees deep in pussy, he was being sarcastic."

"He lost his neurodivergent sparkle... Now he's just traumatized...."

"IF PERRY DIES I'M KILLING MYSELF."

"Honey... That's not... How you fix a bullet wound..." "Shut up, he's using the opportunity he was given to smooch."

"We were fools..... They couldn't kill Perry, he's the only competent one. Shit wouldn't get done without him."

"Hey, look it's Abraham Lincoln!" "IS THAT FUCKING ELVIS PRESLEY?"

"He didn't end up with Perry.... I'm sad." "What the fuck are you talking about? That was Perry!" "THAT WAS PERRY? WHAT." "He just.... Has a Beard."