#not to be dramatic but it seems like a little death to me. truly.

[soracities]

i dont know how else to put this but to approach books (or any media, really) solely for the sake of relatability is genuinely incredibly heartbreaking......to have such little (or such unwilling) imaginative scope that you cannot stretch yourself, even marginally, in a different direction to what you’ve known or are used to knowing when the very POINT of stories is to transport you somewhere else, into someone else, so you can do just that........when fran lebowiz said a book “is supposed to be a door!” and george saunders said good prose “is like empathy training wheels” they were right!!! they were so so so SO absolutely entirely right!!!!!

[gumisgirlfriend]

☾ insecure

WRITERS NOTE:: not proofread whatsoever bro this took me WAY too long to write 😭😭😭 i dont write smut like ever though so i hope this is okay PAIRING:: ascended astarion x fem!reader SUMMARY:: even a vampire lords consort can be prone to bouts of insecurity every now and then. so your doting husband decides to fuck the insecurity out of you.. WARNINGS:: MDNI 18+ CONTENT,,, oral sex (fem receiving), hair pulling, rough sex???, ascended astarion being a loving asshole, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, possibly ooc ascended astarion, reader is kind of a brat, some praise.

"What do you think?"

Astarions gaze lifts from the scroll as you enter your shared chambers, adorned in your brand new custom-made gown, crafted especially for tonight's winter ball. After a long, tedious day of browsing various negotiations from other prestigious homes, he gladly sets down the scroll, beholding this sight for his sore eyes. 

A devilish grin spreads wide across the vampire lord's face. "Give me a spin, darling. I must see it in all its glory." He stands up from his desk, his hands held behind him as he approaches you slowly. You obey, of course, giving him a humble twirl, smiling sweetly as the dress twirls with you.

  The open back of the dress highlighted your shoulder blades, and some of your muscles that were once used in battle. Your breasts would be spilling out from the rather provocative neckline, if it wasn't held together by a few strong-willed buttons. If you didn't know any better, you would assume they got the measurements incorrect, but this was purposeful. This was just how he wanted it.  He took great pleasure in displaying your beauty, even if that meant showing an abundance of skin. Even if it meant you sitting fully naked on his lap as he ruled from his throne. 

Your husband circles around you, admiring the dress's beauty, as well as its vessel. If the ball weren't to be in an hour, he would spread you across the bed and take you right here, listening to you sing his name for hours. Your small, sweet smile was too tempting. Merely the thought of your neatly done eye makeup streaming down your face from your tears and his seed makes his trousers feel too tight.

"You are looking absolutely delectable, my pet." Astarion purrs, adjusting the neckline with his nimble fingers. He seems rather transfixed on the dress, which he had of course designed himself. "That red truly brings out your eyes, don't you think?" 

You nod hesitantly, averting your gaze. “It is quite beautiful, indeed.” you stammer. You try your best to hide it, but he notices your telltale signs of unease. "Don't tell me.. you don't like it?" He presses a cold finger to your chin, lifting your face up to meet his. "What a shame.. I designed this one myself." He sighs disappointedly, crimson eyes piercing into yours. 

"No- no! Of course not. It is without a single flaw, my love. It's just.." You pause shyly, looking down at the dress hugging your curves ever so tightly. "I don't feel.. like I look good enough." You say slowly, eliciting a theatrical gasp from your lover's lips. "This dress is almost too pretty." You bite your lip timidly. 

Astarion would kill thousands for that pretty little pout of yours. He grips your pretty little face even tighter, forcing it to face his. "How dare you say such a thing about my treasure?" he says dramatically, with a sly grin. "The vessel is what makes this dress so ravishing. It was made with you, and only you, in mind." He guided a gentle hand behind your back, leading you to your silk-laden bed. He furrows his brow, squinting inquisitively. "Just tell me who made you feel this way. I will make sure that their death is awfully, dreadfully slow." He growls, making you shiver fearfully. His cold hand cups your face, his thumb running gently over your tempting lips.. 

"Nobody said anything, I swear. I'm just not feeling my best." You stammer, innocently leaning your cheek into his icy touch. The vampire presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, his hand drifting to trace up and down your exposed spine. 

Astarion simply couldn't comprehend what could make you feel this way, after all you were positively the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes on. He wasn’t exactly prone to bouts of insecurity himself. He took great pleasure in how gorgeous he was. He was anything but humble. Insecurity is weakness, and he couldn’t let his own consort be weak, could he?

“Is that so?” Your husband looks at you pitifully, brushing a lock of hair from your eyes. “You are beautiful to me, my sweet. You are mine. And that is all that matters, yes?” He whispers huskily, into your ear, his cool breath making you shudder, and you don’t dare to deny his truth. His mouth curves into a sinister grin, and you cock your head at him quizzically, “Is everything okay..?” you murmur. He swiftly stands up, brushing his palms off on his tightening trousers. 

“Wait your pretty little self here, my sweet. I have just the fix for this ailment of yours.” Astarion presses another quick kiss to your cheek, before heading to the door. “Astarion? May I ask what you’re doing?” You ask sweetly, fidgeting with your hands in your lap. He beckons a servant to the door, whispering something into their ear. They take off swiftly, and he turns back to meet your gaze. “Hush. Just sit there and look pretty.” You bite your lip, nodding. In a matter of seconds, the loyal servants return with a mirror, large enough to take up the whole bed, and  they position it a comfortable distance away from you. They quickly run off once again, shutting the door behind them.

“W-What is this for, my love?” you ask, frightened by the dark look in your lover's eyes. You can feel your legs begin to tremble. Astarion kneels in front of you, taking your foot in his hand. He gently pulls off your heel, and then the other, pressing a gentle kiss to each ankle. “You won't mind being a minute or two late to the ball, will you?” he questions you, gently peppering more kisses up each leg. “No- No I suppose not.. B-but it’s not for another hour, is it not?” you stutter, catching a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror. He lifts the dress as he paves his way up to your thighs, nibbling on your soft, supple skin. You can feel the vampire's fangs drag over your thighs ever so gently. He goes painfully slowly, a familiar heat beginning to pool between your legs. He sits up taller, his dexterous fingers swiftly undoing the buttons of your lavish gown. “A-Astarion?” you whimper, your voice like a sweet melody to his ears. Astarion pulls the dress down off your shoulders, your breasts spilling out in front of him. He can feel himself start to throb, biting his lip as he beholds the sight in front of him. “Don’t move an inch. Let me.” He pulls the rest of the gown off completely, grinning at your completely exposed beauty laid out in front of him. He presses a few kisses along your collarbone, traveling down to your navel. “Look at how pretty you are, pet. And you’re all mine..” he growls huskily. His cold fingers trace the waistband of your damp undergarments, eagerly pulling them down your thigh and off your legs. You whimper at his cold touch as two fingers meet your slick cunt, You can just hear how wet you are from the sounds of his fingers rubbing gentle circles around your swollen sweet spot. He kneels back down between your thighs, lifting your legs onto his shoulders. “B-But, don’t we still have to prepare-” “Hush, pet. Everything is already in place.” The vampire coos, cold hands gently tracing up and down each leg. “Now, I want you to keep those pretty little eyes of yours on that mirror, darling.” You bite your lip and nod, the sheets beneath you starting to soak from your apparent excitement.

Leaving you little time to prepare, his tongue quickly meets your puffy clit, sending a shock of pleasure reverberating through your body. Your hand flies to his white curls, your other hand propping you up on the bed to steady yourself. You catch your own gaze in the mirror, your cheeks flushed red. You quickly avert your gaze out of sheer embarrassment for yourself, hoping he doesn’t notice. His tongue delves deeper inside you, earning him some satisfying mewls of pleasure from your precious lips. Tears begin to swell up in your eyes.

You feel as if you’re seeing stars, but the pleasure suddenly subsides, and you’re met with a sinister grin from your lover. “N-No..” you whine, your sweet voice practically begging him to continue, and he just barely has the strength to resist. 

He licks his lips clean, “Tell me, pet, what did I tell you just a moment ago?” Astarion growls, his slender fingers quickly undoing the buttons to his trousers. 

“T-to keep my eyes on the mirror?”

His grin fades, “So you did hear me?” His erected cock springs free of his restrictive undergarments, dripping with his own excitement. “You just don’t listen, do you?”

The tone of his voice makes you fear for what’s about to happen. You tremble with anticipation. 

Your doting husband cups your face with one hand, “Astarion.. p-please, forgive me..” you murmur, fingernails digging into your silk bed sheets. You look picture perfect in this position, spread out in front of him, helpless. All his.

“As sweet as your pleas sound, I have a lesson to teach.” He hisses, crawling on to the bed behind you, and you quickly realize what his intentions are. “Don’t be daft, my love. You know what to do.” You nod and quickly position yourself onto all fours, looking straight ahead at yourself in the mirror. “Yes, just like that.” He smirks, one hand on your hip as the other gets a comfortable grip on your hair. “You look so pretty like this, where I can see every last bit of your perfect skin..” Astarion presses a few gentle kisses to your neck as he aligns himself to your entrance. "It didn't have to be this way, if you had only listened the first time, pet.." The vampire hisses, nipping your ear. He mercilessly thrusts into you, pulling your hair back so that you're forced to face your reflection. You let out a saccharine moan, fingernails digging into the silk sheets as he continues to thrust into you at an unforgiving rhythm. You are forced to watch your own expressions of pleasure and ecstasy as he thrusts into you, your face flushed a bright red. "Now, who's pretty little consort are you?" he growls into your ear, pulling your hair back a little further. "A-Astarion!" You moan out his name, earning an approving grunt from his lips as he continues to rearrange your insides. You can feel yourself starting to reach your limit, your legs nearly buckling from beneath you. "Good girl." He barely groans out, nearly starting to reach his own climax. His grip loosens on your hair, and his mind starts to blank. He's able to get in one last ruthless thrust, painfully meeting your cervix, nearly making you scream, before he releases every last drop of his seed inside you. His last thrust leaves you seeing stars, and your knees fall from under you as you collapse onto the bed. Tears of pleasure stream down your cheeks, effectively ruining your recently done makeup. You let out a few pitiful whimpers from beside him as you catch your breath, gasping for air. Astarion presses a kiss to your forehead, a smug grin spreading across his face. "My pretty little thing.." he whispers sweetly. He runs a thumb over your tear-stained cheeks, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. "Don't ever think of yourself in such a way again, yes darling?" You nod, leaning your head into his cold hand. "M-Mhm.." You murmur, still trying to regain yourself. He stands up, cleaning himself up and looking at himself in the mirror with a grin of approval. He checks his watch, and it's only a minute past the start of the ball. "I'll tell them that you're running late, darling. Fix yourself up. We're having some rather important guests tonight." He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear and presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before leaving to go attend his own ball. From there on out, every time you were met with feelings of your insecurity, it came with feelings of arousal as well..

[wososcripts]

Tell Me of Your Grief

Stina Blackstenius x Reader

Summary: The fourteenth of March brings back some rather difficult memories, and you don't always make the healthiest decisions. Stina intervenes.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: sorry it's been a while, I've started uni again which means my writing is somewhat slower! With some luck I'll be able to get things up once a week? But that remains to be seen... I promise this is hurt/comfort and not just pain btw.

Warnings ⚠️: discussion of death, self harm behaviors (mild), angst angst angst

------------------------------------

You woke up that morning to a text from Jonas saying you didn’t have to come to training. 

It felt weak to admit it, but part of you was relieved. You knew Katie must’ve talked to him, which was mortifying if you let yourself think about it too much, but she knew you needed this day to yourself. 

It was the anniversary of your best friend’s passing—five years in the making. You hadn’t told many of your teammates what happened, or why you became so withdrawn and somber the week around the 14th of March. It was too difficult to explain. All of the dramatics that surrounded the event, the pain, what you had done wrong, what she had too, it was all still too delicate for eyes you didn’t completely trust. 

You hadn’t even told your girlfriend Stina yet. You’d meant to, really, you had, but the days slipped by and there never seemed like a good time to do it. You knew it would ruin any good mood you were in, and honestly you enjoyed having Stina as your respite when the rest of the world seemed to be knocking against your skull. But it felt wrong that she didn’t know. It felt as though you were hiding something from her, even if it wasn’t intentional.

“Hi baby, I’m not feeling well today so I won’t be at practice. Don’t worry your head when I’m not there. It’s nothing too serious, though, so I’ll be back tomorrow.” You spoke into your phone, recording a voice note to send to her so she wouldn’t be left in the dark about where you were. 

Stina was a worrier, something you yourself could understand, so you always made the effort to let her know if you were running late or not going to something. Otherwise you’d inevitably get a call with her anxious voice on the other line. 

It was early, too early for even Stina to be up. The sun had barely begun cresting over the horizon, casting a slight glow to everything. You wanted to go back to sleep, particularly since you hadn't slept all that well to begin with. Your back hurt from being tensed all night as you were plagued with anxious dreams. On your palms were the remnants of nail indentations—some of them bloody from how hard you had been pressing.

You turned on a podcast and closed your eyes, hoping the sound of human voices would lull you to sleep. It must've worked for a little while, because the next time you opened your eyes it was truly morning, and the podcast had switched to another episode. 

The dreams had continued, unsurprisingly considering your waking mental state, and the extra hour of sleep you might be able to get if you closed your eyes wasn't worth it. So you got out of bed, throwing on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt to go for a run. 

You weren't typically a runner—in fact you were practically ethically against doing it as a hobby—but it was useful for clearing your head. And with no training today, it would feel good to get out for at least a little while. So you blasted your music and took off into the streets of London, completely lost in your own world. Nobody spoke to you, nobody looked at you. 

By the time you had finished, you were sweaty, red-faced, and exhausted. The endorphins began to flood your system as you stripped and started the shower. You turned it almost as high as it could go, hoping for the burn against your skin. You hissed, stepping under the spray, and tears sprung to your eyes. Your skin immediately began to redden. But you didn’t move to lower the heat, instead grabbing your shampoo, gritting your teeth, and bearing it. 

—

“Morning, Blackstenius.” Beth called, clapping her on the back soundly as she wandered into the locker room. 

Stina expected to find you there, sitting by your locker getting changed into your kit and reading your book as you always did, each morning. But you weren’t there. Your locker hadn’t even been touched. She furrowed her brow, then remembered that you had sent her a message earlier. Maybe you had asked her for a ride and she hadn’t seen? Maybe you were going to be late today? Maybe you had some kind of appointment you’d forgotten about until the last minute—you were notorious for that. 

“Morning,” Katie said, sitting down next to Stina on the bench and pulling her kit out of her bag. 

“Morning, Katie.” She replied, opening her phone to look at her message. 

She brought the phone to her ear, confusion and concern filling her chest as she listened to your voice. Though your words weren’t all that worrying, she could hear in your voice that things weren’t right. 

“How’s she doing?” Katie asked, having heard your voice coming from the phone. Her voice was cautious, something unusual for the Irish captain.

“Did you know she wouldn’t be here today?” Stina asked, confused as to why Katie seemed to be clued in to your mood before her. Maybe you had sent her a similar message? She was your best friend, after all. The two of you made a ridiculous pair—her loud and aggressive, you nearly silent and composed—but you’d known each other longer than anyone else on the team, and everyone knew Katie would do practically anything for you. 

Katie was quiet, glancing around at the other girls in the room. Now Stina was worried. Even though you had told her not to be, that it wasn’t anything serious, she couldn’t help it now that Katie was acting so strangely. 

Once it was just Stina and Katie in the locker room, Katie answered her question. 

“Listen, it isn’t my place to tell you anything. You know how private she is…” Katie sighed, rubbing her temples. “I can’t believe she didn’t tell you, probably didn’t want to worry you, the idiot,” she mumbled under her breath to an increasingly concerned Stina. 

“Katie.” Stina said firmly, “What the fuck is going on?” 

She wasn’t usually one to swear. But where you were concerned, the possibility that you were hurting, and had hidden it from her, that warranted much more than cursing. 

“Today is difficult for her, very difficult. That’s all I feel comfortable saying. But if you want to go, Jonas is going to understand.” 

Stina’s heart was in her stomach. Images flashed through her mind, a thousand different horrible things this could mean. 

"Difficult?" She questioned, "Katie, is she safe? Do I have to be prepared for—"

"It's not like that, she isn't in physical danger." 

The answer wasn't reassuring to Stina, who now felt a little ill at the thought of you home alone today. She should be there with you. Someone should be there, if you didn't want her (God, she hoped you wanted her, trusted her). The urge to press more information out of Katie was strong, but Stina held herself back. Katie was right—you needed to tell Stina yourself. Otherwise any insight into your head would be forced entry, a violation of the trust you had both with Katie and with her.

So Stina simply nodded and looked back at her phone to reply to your message. 

Okay, I hope you're feeling all right. Can I swing by later and bring you something? I'd love to see you <3

She wanted to give you an option to say no to her visit—though she would prefer to just go over there now. At least now if you didn't answer before she showed up she could say she had reached out.

—

You waited until the water ran cold to get out of the shower. Your skin was raw to the touch, and still a subtle red color after you had dried yourself off and began braiding your hair. You could hardly stand to look at yourself.  

You threw on the only clothes you could stand on your skin—a pair of soft sweatpants and fuzzy socks—along with Stina's old Häcken hoodie she left at your place a few days ago. It smelled of her which comforted you even if she wasn't here. 

Your phone dinged with a message. Upon opening it, you saw Stina and Katie had messaged, and that you had two missed calls. 

"Eat something." Was all your message from Katie said. 

She knew you, and knew you wouldn't want to eat today. But you had to.

You went to open Stina's text when your phone lit up with another incoming call. It was from Sandra, the mother of your friend. She did this every year, and every year you told yourself you wouldn't pick up. It wasn't healthy for either of you—it reopened wounds that were barely scabbing over as it was. She inevitably cried, and asked why you had left her daughter alone that night, and you bit your lip raw trying to keep quiet and apologize.

But even though you knew the script, you picked up the phone. 

"Hi," you said, your voice noticeably smaller.

You heard a sigh of relief on the other end.

"How are you, Sandra?" You continued, your fingers picking at your lip anxiously. You felt it start to bleed and did nothing.

"Are you still in Limerick?" You continued your flood of questions, waiting for her onslaught to begin.

A few minutes later, once you were on your tenth question and you'd switched from your lip to pressing your nails into your bloodied palm, you heard her begin to cry.

You weren't sure how you managed this every year. Memories of the funeral flashed behind your eyes, and how you hadn't been allowed to stand near the front with the rest of the friends and family. How Sandra had wailed, and smacked you across the face in the parking lot. You stared at your kitchen backsplash and just listened.

"Why, why did you do it?" She cried, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"I'm sorry." You whispered. 

"You left her alone, you killed her, you always brought her home expect that one fucking night and look what happened. It should've been you, it should've been you, you don't deserve this—" 

And so it continued. Tears streamed down your face as your brain began to shut down as a defense mechanism. You just felt numb. Nobody else existed in the world except for you and this woman whose life you had ruined. No Katie, No Stina, Nobody that gave you their love and wanted you here. You didn't deserve what you had, not your success where it should've been your friend's, not your team, not your girlfriend. You were an imposter on this planet, a thief.

—

It turned out that going over to your place wasn't as simple as it seemed. Stina tried asking Jonas if she could be excused from practice, but he insisted that she stay just for an hour. Arsenal had a match with the Spurs in four days and Jonas wanted to go over strategies with the forwards. No skipping. 

So Stina stayed—looking at her phone every thirty seconds for a text from you. There was nothing, and it freaked her out even more.

Whatever Jonas was saying, none of it was registering. She would ride the bench if she had to, it didn't matter to her now. Her leg bounced nervously, and Viv looked at her with concern on her face every couple of minutes. When Jonas went outside to take a quick call, she turned to Stina and immediately asked after her.

"What's wrong, is it something with Odi?" 

Stina nodded, her tight lipped expression telling Viv all she needed to know. She gave Stina a look of sympathy and glanced at her watch, clearly wondering when the meeting would be over as well.

"Odi, something's wrong with her?" Beth butted in unabashedly.

You'd gotten the nickname for a few reasons: you'd danced for years as a child as a ballerina, which showed in your play. You were showy, and graceful, not the aggressive type. Like a swan, someone had once said to you—and the swan lake association stuck: Odette, or Odi for short. Arsenal's dancer.

Jonas re-entered the room before Beth could ask any more questions, saving Stina the struggle.

"For Christ's sake, let the poor girl go," Beth called out as Stina checked her phone for the hundredth time.

Jonas sent a look Beth's way, but decided to be merciful.

"Alright, Blackstenius, you're excused. But I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Stina practically ran back to the locker room, throwing her kit into her bag and getting changed as fast as she could. A steady sense of dread was building in her. She decided to call you as she left the training grounds and walked to her car, hoping she could catch you and tell you she was coming. It would soothe her mind just to hear your voice.

But instead of your voice on the other end, Stina was met with the busy signal. That confused her even more—you weren't a fan of phone calls necessarily, and she knew your parents would be working now, so it was unlikely they would have called you.

She tried once more, hoping she had just happened to catch you at the tail end of a call, but you still didn't answer.

—

You had barely hung up the phone with Sandra before the tears began to pour from your eyes. It was as though time had made no difference and you were hearing of your friend's death for the first time. All the pain, all the self loathing that had fallen down upon you then still crushed your shoulders with its weight.

Your phone dinged again—a message from Katie.

Respond to me or I'm coming over there myself.

You didn't want Katie here. She had been there in years past, and for her to see you no better despite the time and therapy you put in, well you couldn't handle the shame.

I'm alive and well - see you tomorrow at training

You replied, knowing if you told her you were fine and left it at that she might kill you herself. 

You giggled at the thought of her huffing and puffing at you, demanding you take better care of yourself like a surrogate mother. When your mother wasn’t around, Katie did a damn good impression of her. You never got away with anything if Katie had a say. You laughed through your tears, feeling like every nerve of yours was on a razor's edge. 

A knock at the door barely registered in your mind as you wandered over to the couch, wanting nothing more than to curl up in a ball and waste away for the next twelve hours. Your head was beginning to hurt from all the crying, which only soured your mood further. For the first time you had the thought: I don't want to be alone.

You thought it must’ve been a hallucination, the way Stina appeared in front of you. 

—

Stina wasn’t sure what to expect when she knocked on the door of your apartment. She had spent the entire drive over worrying about how she could find you, partially cursing Katie for giving her just enough info to get her mind going in a million unhelpful directions. The fact that you weren’t texting her back hadn’t helped either. The road before her blurred as she drove without thinking, her body getting her to your apartment building on instinct. 

The elevator dinged at each floor and with it her heartbeat increased. 

When you didn’t answer the door it dropped. 

“Hello?” Stina called out, having opened the door with the spare key you had given her a few months ago. She cursed herself for not staying with you last night when you looked so weighed down, so tired. She’d let you convince her you were fine—something she wouldn’t do again anytime soon.  

When she turned the corner from your kitchen into the open space of your living room she spotted you. There you were, curled up on the couch in a small ball, silent. 

“Did you hear me knock?” She asked softly, approaching you.

You didn’t reply, didn’t even look at her. 

She slowly reached out a hand to place it on your head gently, when you turned and looked at her. It frightened her—the look in your eyes. She hadn’t ever seen them so empty. 

“Stina?” you whispered, confusion present in your tone. 

“Yes, min kärlek, jag är här.”

She put a hand softly on your face, cupping your cheek.

“You’re really here?” 

There were tears beginning to gather in your already red eyes. Stina felt her throat constrict. You’d been crying, clearly a lot by how swollen your face was. 

Stina pulled you up and into her arms easily, shifting you so she could sit on the couch with you in her lap. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently, remembering that you had said once that hearing her speak her native Swedish calmed you down. 

You wiped your eyes, lip still trembling slightly. 

“Did Katie say something? Or Jonas?” 

Stina wiped your cheeks with the pad of her thumb, brow creased with worry. 

“Katie said today was hard for you, that’s it. Promise.” 

You went silent, thinking. 

“I was going to tell you. I promise, I meant to. But it just never seemed like a good time, or I just wanted to avoid it as long as possible…you see, Katie met me not long after it happened, she was there, it’s different. I didn’t trust her with this and not you on purpose. She can’t help but know.” You shifted off of Stina’s lap, curling in on yourself next to her so your skin wasn’t touching.

“I hate myself for it. I do, really. And every time I tell someone, they might hate me too, I know that. And I just couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t give you the chance to hate me.”

Stina put a hand on your shoulder, biting her lip to contain a small sob when you flinched away from her. It was as if you weren’t even there in front of her. All of the grace and kindness and light that had been there just a few days ago seemed to have been swallowed by darkness. To hear you say the words ‘I hate myself’? Stina could cry at the thought of it. Those were words that should never come from your mouth. It was like a knife in her ribcage. 

“Min söta… älskling”

“Don’t call me that,” you sobbed, putting your hands over your eyes and hiding your face from her. 

"Snälla, låt mig hjälpa dig, please, I want to help.” 

You shook your head, face still obscured from Stina’s view. 

This was horrible. Stina felt as though she’d eaten something rotten the way her stomach churned. She was helpless, completely in the dark. Here she was, the person who was supposed to take care of you and love you, and she could hardly do anything. All she could think to do as you cried quietly was pull you into her side and rock you slowly. A melody popped into her head—one her mother had sang to her as a child when she was ill. 

Stina softly sang, trying not to feel embarrassed by her voice. You were beginning to calm, your hands dropping from your face to her shirt, holding it close. By the time she was finished, the room was quiet, empty of your cries. You were clinging to her, your face buried in the crook of her neck as if you were ashamed of the comfort you needed. 

“What was that song?” you asked, voice hoarse. 

“It’s a lullaby. I can’t remember the name.” 

Stina felt you nod against her skin. 

She opted not to say anything further. You were exhausted, she could tell. Anything you wanted to say, you needed to volunteer. 

After a few moments, she felt your grip on her shirt tighten. 

“When I was nineteen, my best friend died.” 

Whatever Stina had been expecting to come out of your mouth, that wasn’t it. She sucked in a breath, trying to remain unaffected. You needed her strength. 

“We had been friends for years, since we were kids. And we’d gotten in this huge fight over something… uni I think. I had an offer to play professionally. I had been drinking, so had she. And I always walked her home, always, when she had been drinking. The way to her house was a bit sketchy, you know? So I figured two people were better than one if anything happened. But the things she said to me that night… I’d never been so upset in my life.” 

You took a breath, 

“So I refused to walk her. She didn’t press, just turned up her nose and walked away, didn’t even say goodbye. And I waited for my bus. The next morning I get a call from her mum—she’s been killed.”

Stina could barely trust herself to breathe. 

“I let it happen, I’m the reason she died.” 

“No—” Stina began, but you cut her off. 

“When they held the funeral, I wasn’t allowed to say anything. I wasn’t allowed anywhere but the very back of the church, because they all knew it was my fault. And still, they know it, they remind me of what happened, what I’ve done. I stole her life!” 

“Stop!” Stina demanded, her face flushed with anger. You were taken aback by her passion, and quieted. “You did not steal anything, you didn’t kill her, it isn’t your fault!” She grabbed your hand as you pulled back from her. 

“You lost your best friend in such a horrible way, and nobody checked in? Nobody held you?” 

You opened your mouth to speak, but this time Stina silenced you.

“I want you to tell me what you mean by ‘they remind you’ of what happened.” 

You refused to meet her eyes. 

“It’s not good. Not for me or her… she calls me, my friend’s mom, to talk.” You hesitated, but explained the routine to your girlfriend when she fixed you with a look. 

“That’s…” Stina seemed at a loss for words, “you are the strongest person I know. And you rake yourself across hot coals for a crime that isn’t even yours. For a woman who wants to see you suffer, who can’t accept your healing. That isn’t right. You did not kill her. That is someone else’s burden to carry.” 

You burst into tears again. 

—

You must’ve fallen asleep at some point, because the next time you wake up you’re in bed, and Stina is wrapped protectively around you. Her warmth encases you; she holds you more protectively than usual, her arms shielding you from the world. 

Eventually the two of you get back up, though not before Stina wraps you in a crushing embrace and lets you know she’s staying for a couple of days. No negotiating. 

She makes dinner, you clean. It’s the first time you’ve eaten all day, and you think she can tell by the way she watches you intently. You feel cared for, and it’s a little overwhelming. Stina doesn’t let you out of her sight save a few trips to the bathroom and one brief call from her sister that she has to take.

You didn’t expect things to shake her up so much. 

She helps you clean the wounds on your palms, grimacing at the sight of them once you unfurl your fingers for her. You try to tell her you can deal with them yourself—especially with how much it seems to upset her—but she isn't having it. You see her set her brow and concentrate on cleaning and bandaging the damaged skin, tears only glazing her eyes as you hiss in pain. 

Eventually you convince her that you're fine enough to settle down on the couch and watch a movie. She insists on having you in her lap—something that you find equally as comforting. Stina isn't typically all that tactile, but now each moment apart from you seems to worry her.

You're about halfway into the film and slowly drifting off into her chest when you feel her whisper something into your skin. You think she assumes you're asleep (and you nearly are) but you make out her voice slightly.

"Tack Gud att du är här." She repeats it, and soon you can feel the drops of her tears hitting your shoulder. 

"Stina…" you whisper, repositioning yourself to face her.

"förlåt" she says, wiping her eyes.

"You don't have to be sorry… It was an intense day." You press a kiss to her cheek.

"I was so worried," Stina starts, and you figure it's best not to interrupt her, "when Katie said that you might be struggling, I couldn't think of anything else. You can't hurt yourself anymore, please." Stina takes your bandaged hand.

"If you were gone one day, I don't know how I'd cope." 

"You don't have to worry about that, ever."

"You are the most important thing in my life." Stina's lip trembles, and you wonder how you're managing to keep it together.

You pull her into another kiss, lips sore from how you had abused them earlier. The pain reminds you of the struggle of the day, but Stina's hand holds the depths in front of you at bay.

"I'll always be here." She promises.

You begin to think of something lighter. Of an ounce of forgiveness. Of a year that does not revolve around the rising and setting of the sun on this one day. A moment of peace afforded to yourself. The thought passes your mind—you do not deserve this. You instead think of love.

[gambleofstars]

Lucifer HCs with Lust Sin!Reader

₍ ⌨ ᶻᶻᶻ gambleofstars is typing ... ₎

ପ(๑•̀ᴗ•̀)* NOTICE: this post is NSFW, so minors do not interact.

tags: sub!lucifer ; NSFW ; gn reader ; handjob ; hickeys/biting ; tender & gentle ; size difference

↳ ❝ [a/n: LISTEN. listen. i love ozzie to death but i really wanted to see how this would play out, so... purely self indulgent :3 also, writing sub!lucifer is a drug and i want more. also yeah, i made the reader taller again before you're in my house ;) enjoy yourself ] ¡! ❞

𓆩♡𓆪 To simply put: you are a menace.

𓆩♡𓆪 You usually spend your days at the Lust Ring, naturally. Doing your daily tasks, taking care of things, etc. And of course, enjoy your night to the fullest.

𓆩♡𓆪 At some point though, maybe around midnight, you get a bottle of your favorite wine and one of just grape juice; then take your private portal (courtesy of who you're visiting) to the Pride Ring.

𓆩♡𓆪 This, is where Lucifer's struggles begin.

𓆩♡𓆪 He looks back at you in the doorway of this bedroom with an unimpressed look on his face as you sway your tail back and forth with a delighted smile.

𓆩♡𓆪 (Though he does appreciate you bringing non-alcoholic drink for him)

𓆩♡𓆪

"Yeah, yeah.. Come in, make yourself at home" Lucifer rolls his eyes "As always"

You hum, amused "Oh Lu, dearest, you act like you don't enjoy my visits" you set the bottles on the small table near his balcony and sit down. The slight breeze made the sheer curtains sway.

Sheer, like Lucifer's night robe. With feathers at the cuffs and the ends, truly as dramatic as him; pink and pretty. It flutters like waves across the floor as he brings two glasses from a nearby display cabinet.

He sighs "It's not that.." he trails off and you see his eyes go into that place they sometimes do - somewhere you can't follow. Before silence can get awkward, he opens the wine bottle and pours you a drink.

You can't help but smile to yourself; always in little things, you can see how much this adorable angel treasures pleasing others.

"Did something happen?" you finally question, swirling the wine a bit before sipping.

You observe his every reaction: the way his hand falters with the bottle of juice, his eyes dart around for a split second, his breath gets caught in his throat - Yeah, something is up for sure.

"No! Um- no..." he mumbles and takes a swing of his juice.

Oh you silly little man. You reach over to him, cradling his small face easily with the palm of your hand "Little star, what troubles you?" you keep your voice low, afraid to startle the delicate atmosphere.

He leans into your touch and sighs in defeat "Just bad memories is all... Today marks 7 years since-" it looks like the said memory gets too painful to think about and makes him close his eyes: almost like he was hiding from it.

Lilith. Honestly, you two never really interacted, but they seemed happy together, but now was not the time for questioning.

Instead, you sigh deeply and get up. Before Lucifer can protest your missing touch, you grab his glass and set in on the table; it's easy to scoop him up into a bridal style and carry him to the bed. Meanwhile he looks up at you with those round, curious eyes.

"It pains me to see you so" you explain and settle comfortably on the soft covers and pillows, cradling Lucifer to lay mostly on you. You kiss his golden hair "Such precious little angel you are, pretty like a true star. This sadness is unsuited for your beautiful face."

He looks down, almost ashamed, but you assure him with another kiss - on his cheek this time "I blame you not for this, darling"

You both lay in a comfortable silence for a while, as you stroke his hair and leave butterfly kisses on his face. After a bit of thinking, you decide to comfort him in a way you know best - and in what you specialize in.

"Darling, would you let me soothe you?" you ask quietly.

He knows what you mean - you two regularly meet up for this type of thing after all. With the vulnerable state of his mind, you know it's asking a lot for him to trust you, so you wait with bated breath.

He nods with unshed tears sparkling in his eyes, looking up at you like you're his one and only savior. Oh to savor this sweet thing, all doe and delicate, like a doll.

You'll make sure those bad memories will be at the very back of his mind for tonight.

"Ah! Oh-!" the king squirms against your hold on his hip, but to no avail. Your other hand has a gentle hold on his cock, stroking it from time to time - being just a tad bit mean to hear more of those cute little noises.

You're sure your claws will leave indents on his hips, but they'll heal soon enough (you can't help but be a bit displeased). His porcelain skin is littered with red and purple bite marks, all of which has caused him to moan and whine.

He's arching his back and clutching with both of his hands at the pillow, thrashing his head against it. All the sensations are clearly overwhelming him, but he's enjoying every second of it.

Both of your hands move up to his lithe waist and you switch your positions. You sit against the pillows and place him on your lap, so that he's straddling your thighs.

"H-huh?" Luficer's brain seemed to slow down, but he soon adjusted himself to his comfort; his hands clutched onto your dress-shirt and he rested his face onto your chest, gluing himself to you. You couldn't help but swing one arm over his shoulders to hold him close.

"Feels so- ah!?" you didn't even let him finish his sentence before starting to stroke him again - harder and faster this time, holding him tighter when he started to squirm again "I c-can't!- oh! ah! Don't stop! Please please please!"

There was no need for begging but you weren't going to complain.

You pulled back a bit to see his face, almost glittery cheeks and rosy lips; you lean down to kiss him - as deep and sensual as you can. You want him to know that you are his savior and you will never leave his side. Not like her.

He whimpers into the kiss like he knows your intentions, bucking up against you, desperate. Now he's the one cradling your face and looking you deep in your eyes when you separate. They speak so much, yet none of the words leave his lips. Not yet.

Soon enough, his eyes roll back and he collapses back onto your chest, losing his thrusting rhythm and chasing his climax. Cute little ah! ah! ah!s are forced out of him and one very adorable high pitched whine when he finally cums.

You let him lay there, catch his breath, as you rub his shoulders to chase away any tension in them. He looks up, almost looking startled "But wait! Y-you... Don't you..?"

You laugh and kiss his forehead "No darling, this night is about you and I can't be more delighted" you slowly pick him up and make your way towards the bath room.

You've spend many nights riddled with mind-numbing ecstasy before, but these tender nights - those that end with being in a warm, bubbly bath with Lucifer - will forever be your favorite.

hehe :3 how was it? i feel like it would do good with more parts? or should i just leave it like a one-shot? meh, let's see if inspiration strikes again

signing off, gambi

[meanbossart]

do you have any thoughts on cazador as a character? personally i really loved the parallels between him and astarion & the way that the master/spawn relationship is used as an allegory for cyclical abuse. the scene with cazador’s master’s skull where you find out that he was once victimized in the exact same way that he later victimized astarion was really a lightbulb moment for me re: what vampirism represents in this game.

BOY DO I, i don't think much of it hasn't already been said, though. He's a tragic character in his own right of course, not that that takes away from the awful man he is.

Me and my boyfriend make fun of him a lot, we call him "the best BG3 character" as a little inside joke between us and come up with ridiculous scenarios of things that might have occurred throughout those 200 miserable years the spawn had under his command lol. Maybe he had a month where he was really specific about the shoes everyone wore, maybe once every other decade he had a weird week where he tried to be "nice" only to become frustrated when his efforts weren't immediately met in kind by the rightfully-terrified spawn, maybe between all the torture and horrific-ness he just did some plain weird shit like making someone crouch by in his fainting couch and wait by open-handed for grapes that he dramatically chewed on and then spat right out since he can't actually eat them lmao

And that's hysterical but I think we also started doing that because when you meet Cazador, when you first hear his voice and see his demeanor in person your immediate reaction is probably somewhere along the lines of "THIS is the clown you were so scared of, Astarion?"

And the answer is, of course, yes. This embarrassing little man stuck in a cage of his making instills fear beyond comprehension in Astarion and all his siblings. This man who undoubtedly showed all these spawn, inadvertently, the strangest, most arguably "human" aspects of himself at some point or another during these two centuries they had together is also an absolute monster. And i really like that! I think its far more effective and fitting for his story than if he was, lets say, a Ketheric type.

(this got very long so, more under the cut)

Look at Ascended Astarion in the epilogue now, for example. Everyone agrees that he's an absolute fucking dork - and I think we all also agree that he will go on to destroy the lives of many people beyond repair, especially his own, until the day he is killed.

In the topic of vampirism as an allegory for abuse, I both agree and also don't, at least not exactly - i just think it's deeper than that. I've spoken about this in another post but i find it incredibly refreshing how, to me, it seems like Baldur's Gate 3 has no interest in painting vampirism as sexy or fun past a surface level. It's a curse that nobody asks for unless put in a situation where they feel as if they have no other way out, and it shapes and haunts you for the rest of your undead existence.

Even if you enjoy its benefits at first, that has a time limit. You will see your family and loved ones die, you will see culture evolve while you stay perpetually the same. You will experience so much hurt and pain because the only thing that makes life truly sweet is knowing that it is finite, and eventually it will wear down all of your humanity. And since you can't die unless you are scorched by the sun, staked, or dismembered, you must live with the knowledge that you will never have a peaceful death - and since you won't have a peaceful death, you better not die - and if you don't want to die, you better not be weak - and if you don't want to be weak, you must seek out power at all cost and slash things like love and friendship out of your life.

And what is funny, is that in his attempt to be more like a mortal - to eat, drink, walk the sun, such incredibly simple desires - Cazador (and Astarion, if he ascends) is accidentally only drawing further away from the person he supposedly once was, because that fear of weakness has already utterly corrupted his soul.

That's quite a grim way to look at it, of course. But I genuinely think that it is the natural conclusion of something like immortality.

That's why I quite like that, even after Astarion has found happiness, even after he finds his peace, he still doesn't exactly embrace being a vampire - because It's not something he should be expected to embrace. I think it's a very unique take on the trope.

I also want to leave here this message written by his character writer, which really got me thinking about him on a deeper level since i saw it months ago. It is specifically about the sexual aspect, but I think it branches beyond it too, when you think about it.

[sooniebby]

Okay so you can treat this as a request if you like but tbh I just want to get this idea out of my head lol

So I’m a Tsukishima lover, I always imagined him as being the type of person to just be very private abt his love life + being into like more buff intimidating people

A lil scenario that came to my head is halfway through second year Tsukishima and the reader, who lowkey looks like he would beat someone up, starts just waiting outside the gym after practice and leaving with Tsuki and everyone is like “huh?” But no one says anything because bro is scary.

Then one day someone finally has enough of being quiet abt it (probably Hinata let’s be honest) and asks abt it and Tsukishima just like casually “oh, that’s my bf” and EVERYONE is shockedddd.

This also applies for after highschool. Like he’s a famous volleyball player and mid live interview he’s like “me and my fiancé really like blah blah blah” and everyone is again shocked cuz he’s ENGAGED? Then he posts pictures and it’s the reader has buffed up way more after high school and is maybe even into boxing or smth. Anyways he’s basically death glaring the camera (the reader is trying to smile I swear)

Anyways have a nice day/night/wtv

xx

Your idea is so cute—I wrote a little short story for it! SFW!

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

The Karasuno volleyball players would say that they aren’t scared of nothing. They played volleyball against the best of the best and still came out on top last year. Nothing could truly fear them.

But he did.

And honestly he scared everyone.

Only Tsukishima looked unbothered by the dude but he was unbothered by everyone. The dude, who looked like he belonged in the Yakuza, waited outside the gym for at least an hour or two before leaving everyday.

“What if he kills us…?” Hinata asked.

Kageyama rolled his eyes. “You’re being over dramatic.”

“Yeah, Hinata! At most he’s just a scary looking dude,” Noya joked. Yamaguchi didn’t look too keen on a random scary dude just watching them play so Yachi has to quickly comfort him.

Takeda had a somewhat idea on who the mysterious dude was. He’s seen him in classes so he was a student at the school. But he didn’t seem to be in a club.

“What if he’s waiting for a moment to kill you?” Tanaka suddenly said, earning a blank stare from everyone else. Yamaguchi looked to be on the verge of passing out.

Okay, they were certainly overreacting towards the dude. The dude in question was Nanase (Name). A second year who was in a club.

The cooking club. Which was a shock to most people. (Name) never knew why but it was most likely because he looked like a 1980s Japanese gangster to the regular person. Being at least 6’0 and buff as if he was an American football player, it was no secret why most people avoided him.

At first, the group decided to just ignore (Name). He wasn’t actually bothering them so maybe he’d go away after awhile. But soon he was there whenever they practiced but would always leave once they finished.

It was getting worrisome for the players. Just what the hell was he waiting for. Well, they got their answer when (Name) didn’t leave right away. He stayed there even as they cleaned up.

Tsukishima left without Yamaguchi, which wasn’t shocking. He had been walking home without him for awhile.

No, it wasn’t that to shock Karasuno.

It was Tsukishima leaving with (Name)!

Hinata and Noya let out dramatic gasps at the sight while Yamaguchi panicked at ‘Tsuki’ going with someone so dangerous. Takeda had to calm the boys down before they popped a blood vessel while Kageyama simply thought a bit more logically.

They were probably just friends.

“Just ask him tomorrow, dumbass.” Kageyama said, watching as Hinata began to think of the worse possible scenarios in his head.

Hinata agreed. He might have petty fights with Tsukishima some does but he would save his friend from a potential attack!

He was way off, obviously.

The next day, when the strange dude was outside again on his phone. Hinata sprinted up to Tsukishima who was drinking his water innocently.

“TSUKI!”

Tsukishima cursed as he suddenly coughed, almost choking on the water in his throat. Once he could finally breathe, he turned around to glare at Hinata.

“What’s your—?”

“—who’s that strange person outside?! The Yakuza?! A killer?!”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

Hinata pointed towards (Name), accidentally gaining his attention. He panicked when he noticed (Name) walk over to the gym with a puzzled look on his face.

Hinata, in a state of shock, confusion, fear(?), and just stupidity, screamed and jumped up onto Tsukishima’s back. Tsukishima cursed as he tried to pull the idiot off of him.

This caught the attention of the other players as they turned over to see Tsukishima, (Name), and Hinata together.

And while what was happening was (Name) trying to call Hinata down and get him off Tsukishima.

What it looked like was (Name) attacking Hinata and Tsukishima. Well mainly Hinata since Tsukishima still towered over (Name).

“Oi!! You leave my kouhai alone!!”

“Tsuki!!”

“What in the…”

(Name) flinched when Noya held a broom right at his face, causing him to quickly pull away from Hinata. Tsukishima groaned in annoyance as he was finally able to pull Hinata off of him and dropped him on the ground.

“Can you all just fucking calm down?” He sneered, gaining their attention. Noya reluctantly held down the broom and watched (Name) with a curious eye.

Kageyama, being a bit smart today, decided to just ask what they had all been wondering. “Who is this guy?”

“My boyfriend. Nanase (Name).” Tsukishima said, nonchalantly. It was silent as everyone tried to process the information. (Name) looked a bit nervous. He wasn’t sure why they were so scared of him.

He wasn’t that scary looking (he was).

“Oh, that makes sense.” Yachi said.

“Boyfriend?!” Hinata screeched.

“Someone wanted to date you?” Noya questioned.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Tsukishima glared at him.

“….what I said.”

Tanaka quickly held Noya and pushed him away. “But why do you look like a gangster?? Had us scared for a moment man!”

“Yeah, it’s a bit creepy to just watch us from afar during practice…” Yamaguchi muttered.

“I… I wasn’t watching you guys. I was just watching Tsukishima…” (Name) blushed in embarrassment. “I was also scared to meet you guys.”

The Karasuno players glanced at each other. Shocking, since they were so scared to meet him.

“Well, if this is over, we should get back to practice,” Takeda said, clapping his hands. The others reluctantly agreed and walked away, each waving goodbye to (Name).

Once it was just Tsukishima and (Name), (Name) smiled. Well, as close as he could smile. It honestly looked like a grimace.

“I’ll try to stop being creepy.” He said.

Tsukishima shrugged. “They’re just idiots. Don’t mind them. I’ll see you after practice.” He wouldn’t given him a kiss but he could feel eyes boaring into the back of his skull.

He could tell it was Yamaguchi… yeah, he had a lot to explain to him. After that, everyone welcomed (Name) with open arms while Noya continued to jokingly introduce (Name) as a gangster.

Which prompted two volleyballs to the face daily.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Lowkey doesn’t feel short actually 💀 but you guys should do more requests like this! It’s very fun to do this :)

[grandlinedreams]

[heads up!: vague au setting, vampire!law, mentions of blood and blood drinking, cursing, there will be a part 2 to this]

He's hungry.

Normally that isn't a problem for Law, because he knows a work-around, tried and true ㅡ in the form of small white tablets that he drops into water, watches dissolve into watery red and downs without a second thought.

Far from the best tasting thing, but it works well enough to curb the burn in his gums, the insistent hunger that makes his eyes glow a vivid gold at the height of it.

But he doesn't have any tablets on him, hasn't made them in ages ㅡ because there'd been an issue with distribution of an ingredient he needs for them, and now he hasn't eaten in weeks.

He knows what Corazon will say, suggesting he find someone to feed off of ㅡ like it's the easiest thing in in the world. As if Law isn't a creature of myth, damned to the shadows and lurking at the corner of nightmares.

He's worked too hard to conceal himself and what he is to throw it away like that ㅡ no matter how tempting it truly is. He takes pride in the fact that it's gotten easier to explain away the pallor of his skin, the dark shadows beneath his eyes ㅡ he works the night shift at this clinic, and nobody asks. Nobody wants this shift, anyways.

The problem with not eating as of late, however, is the constant wear on his ever thinning restraint. The nastier of cases always seem to come in at night ㅡ consequences of drunken antics. Broken noses, shredded skin. The more severe are always cleaned up and shipped off to the hospital, because there's only so much they can do here. (There's also only so much he can take of the seemingly boundless stupidity that plagues this town's people, too.)

At least tonight has been slow ㅡ slow enough that he'd managed to convince his coworkers to leave with the promise of contacting them if he needs them. Now he has no company outside of the tinny strains of music and low hum of electricity, watching the dull glow of headlights thrown against the waiting room walls.

And then there's a set of headlights that slow to a crawl, blazing before they dim with the low purr of an engine stopping. Law sits up, listens for car doors opening (two. the driver side, and then the passenger) and shutting in tandem before looking up as the sliding doors give a hiss of pressurized air.

"Oh thank god." The speaker is a blonde man that reminds him a little of Corazon, unlit cigarette in his mouth wobbling as he speaks. "You can help, can't you?"

Depends, Law wants to say, but knows he needs to work on his bedside manner, because not everyone has the same flavor of humor that he does. So he nods instead. "I can certainly try. What seems to be the problem?"

Blonde man's visible blue eye flicks to his companion, and Law finally takes in how pale you are, the kitchen towel that's wrapped tightly around your forearm. Blonde man goes to unwrap it, and Law finally catches the sweet, delicious scent of blood.

"Wait." He says, tone sharper than he means to be as he backpedals, "Tell me what happened first." He definitely doesn't need you bleeding to death in the waiting room.

"It was an accident," you say, "and I think Sanji's being dramatic about it. I'll be fine." There's a haze to your eyes that makes Law think that Sanji is absolutely right in bringing you in, and that you're trying to downplay the severity of it ㅡ especially now that he can see the dark seep of blood into the kitchen towel.

He clenches his jaw, never more grateful for the mask that covers his mouth as he is now with the prominent burn of his gums and muted, answering growl of his stomach. He's so hungry and you've walked in like a goddamn buffet.

"I'll have to take a look at it and see if we need to call an ambulance to take you to the hospital," he says, and you blanch.

"Is that necessary?"

Sanji gives you a fierce look for him. "Do you want to die?"

"Still think you're being dramatic," you mumble, but it doesn't take a sharp eye to see that you're struggling to remain upright. Law reaches for the check-in sheet, placing it on a clipboard with a pen and pushes it to Sanji.

"I trust you can fill this out for them? I'll take them back and get an assessment done." He's on his feet and around the desk before you can blink, gripping your shoulders with surprising strength.

"Don't need your help."

He raises an eyebrow. "You want the wheelchair instead? I don't need to add head trauma to your chart if you pass out on me." That shuts you up, and he steers you through the double doors, watches you squint against the harsh lighting.

"Sit." He guides you to the examination bed, thin paper crinkling beneath you. Perching himself in the chair, he slides to a stop in front of you. "Let's take a look."

He's mindful as he peels the towel away, clicks his tongue in sympathy when you hiss as he pulls the towel away completely, pretending he doesn't want to pull his mask down and lick his gloved fingers clean of your blood.

He turns to grab a handful of gauze and the squeeze bottle of distilled water, ignores the watery red drip that puddles on the floor as he cleans your arm.

"How you haven't passed out is beyond me," he remarks as he examines the laceration, prodding carefully to see just how deep it goes. "But you're lucky."

You find it in yourself to scoff. "And how's that?"

"Still alive, aren't you?" Sharp gold eyes meet yours. "And you'll get to go home with just some stitches." With his hold on your arm, he can feel you stiffen.

"Stitches?" If possible, your face goes even paler. "I don't do stitches."

He raises an eyebrow. "Something like this won't just go away," he says, "and it'll take even longer to heal if left like this. Stitches areㅡ"

"No," you cut in. "No stitches."

Law's brow knits. Do you have some personal vendetta against stitches? True, they've never been a favorite of his either especially with how they itch while they heal. And if it's the application of them that you're worried about, he's good at them, hands steady and swift.

"I don't care what you do," you tell him, jaw set and eyes surprisingly clear now even for the blood loss, "but no stitches."

He hates the immediate solution that comes to mind. But it's two birds with one stone, even with the alarm bells going off in his head. It's a bad idea ㅡ a really bad idea. But he's so hungry, and you don't want stitches.

"I have another idea," he says slowly, still weighing his options, the mental flip of a coin. He's going to regret this if it goes sideways, but it's all he can think of at the moment. "But you need to trust me. And not tell anyone."

This time, it's you who raises an eyebrow, expression wary. "Okay? As long as it isn't stitches, I really don't care."

Law takes a deep breath, steeling himself before he tugs his mask down. He feels the descent of his fangs, the weight of them in his mouth as he tugs your arm closer.

"Remember what I said," he tells you as you watch him in growing confusion, "you can't tell anyone about this."

You don't scream, and part of him wonders if blood loss is finally taking its toll on you and you'll think that this is some kind of resulting delirium. Whatever you want to believe, so long as it keeps him out of trouble. The sink of his fangs into your skin makes you hiss, his grip tightening to keep you from flinching away as he waits for the numbing quality of his saliva to kick in. When you finally sigh and relax, he eases up.

And then he licks your wound. The glide of his tongue is slow and intentional, cleaning the beading of fresh blood from it and biting back a groan of satisfaction. Part of him notes now that the wound is too straight and precise to be a true accident, but he can't bring himself to pull away and demand a detailed answer because you taste so much better than those damn tablets.

The first swallow is rough, the tang of your blood on his tongue intoxicating ㅡ and then he takes another, and another.

Law knows he can't take too much from you, aware that you've already lost quite a bit but is still reluctant as he retracts his fangs. Another slow lick along the length of it finishes the job, and Law moves to clean residual blood before he wraps it in clean white bandage.

"There we go," he announces, watches the slow, sleepy blink of your eyes ㅡ and determines that even though it's still a gamble, you won't be telling anyone what you just witnessed. "Good as new."

"Thanks, doc." Your speech is slurred, and he wonders if he did take too much. But you're steadier than he expects when he helps you to your feet, letting him guide you back through the doors to where Sanji is waiting.

"All patched up," he reports, "just let us know if you notice anything out of the ordinary. Fever in the localized area or full body temperature, increased pain or if it starts weeping."

"Thanks," Sanji answers, handing him the clipboard in exchange for you, and Law watches the two of you leave, listening for the sound of car doors and the purr of the engine.

It's only once you're gone that what he's done fully hits him, guilt in the place of hunger. What was he thinking? Had he been thinking at all?

"How are you feeling?" Sanji's question makes you roll away from where you've been counting streetlamps, prompting you to sit up.

Clearly not. He hisses a low curse, reaching into his pocket for his phone. He needs to call Corazon, see if they need to run damage control.

ㅡ

"Like crap," you tell him flatly, "next time Zoro suggests something like this, how about he does it."

"You didn't have to cut so deep."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "Hush," you say, and he waits for you to continue. "Intel was right, though. Definitely a vampire."

Sanji rolls down the window, exhaling a cloud of smoke from the cigarette he'd finally lit while waiting for you. "Think he suspected anything?"

You reach for the neat bandaging of your arm. Unraveling it to expose smooth, unbroken skin, you're momentarily grateful that the thin, looping scars are spiderweb thin and invisible to anyone not trained to look for them. "No," you answer, studying where the laceration had been, "I don't think he did."

[reuben-7991]

Octavian’s treatment is one of my least favorite things about HoO because it isn’t his character, it’s his lack of one.

We COULD’VE had an excellent character who was a look into what could truly go wrong with blind devotion like Octavian’s, drawing an excellent parallel to Luke’s blind hatred in the original series (Percy even says Octavian reminds him of Luke).

We COULD’VE had a fantastic contrast into a follower’s descent into insanity after making empty promises of power whilst under the influence of a massively elder being, thus leading to said follower’s death.

What makes me especially mad is that Octavian has no backstory. This is a problem with a lot of Roman characters, but Octavian especially. He doesn’t even have a last name. All we know is:

- He’s a legacy of Apollo.

- He used to be sane and probably very charismatic, due to Reyna stating she used to have a crush on him in TTT.

That’s it! One of Rick’s gold stars is that his human characters are just that: human. They have motivations and flaws, deeply personal origins and ideals that affect their actions and their outcomes. None of the villains are just plain villains, evil by birth. They have motives to back up their actions (now weither those motives make sense or not, that’s another story, but they’re still there.) There’s Luke, Medea, Lityerses (who is an entire other can of worms), Circe, Loki, Gunilla, Randolph, hell, even Kronos and Gaea. All of them have reasons for the shitty stuff they did. Octavian is a glaring exception. We know he’s power-hungry, but we don’t know why. We know he’s violent, but we don’t know why. We know he hates the Greeks, but we don’t know why. You may argue ‘oh, he’s a minor character, he doesn’t really get a reasoning’ which is just blatantly untrue on both fronts.

1: Octavian is NOT a minor character in the slightest. He has major roles in the plot throughout the books.

2: Him being a ‘minor’ villain wouldn’t have anything to do with his motivation. Chris from the OG series has stated motivation, and he’s way more minor than Octavian.

Another thing is that Octavian’s insanity is played off almost comically. He’s relatively well put together in SoN, only being super dramatic and reportedly blackmailing Hazel and probably other legionnaires, but by BoO he’s absolutely broken. He’s utterly obsessed with being a hero to the Romans, with being Pontifex Maximus, with killing Gaea and almost proving himself to Apollo (who is utterly disgusted by him), but it’s all either framed as ‘hate this guy more plsplspls’ or brushed away to the side.

I’m torn on his death scene, because it’s a good scene overall but too much of it is humorous in my opinion. Between Will calling Octavian an ‘anemic loser’ (which like. what.) and Leo describing his screams as a little girl’s, it seems almost too light for such a pivotal point in the story. Octavian has truly lost himself to madness, ranting and raving and insisting no, HE has to be the one to kill Gaea, HE has to be a hero.

His death is horrific, yet it’s framed as a silly oopsie.

What the fuck.

Overall, Octavian is a shining example of missed character potential. We could have gotten the Riordan special and made to empathize more with our villain, like what happened with Luke or Randolph from MCGA, but all we get is a crazy blond kid, character so shallow he could count as a tide pool. It infuriates me to no end how in a sea of good, properly motivated antagonists, Octavian is the outlier.

It’s a real shame.

[kruven]

— Ace never understood the impact you had on him. (Gn reader, 2nd pov)

words : 599

warnings : none, fluffy angsty, takes place after Ace's departure, minor character from One Piece Episode A spoilers, Ace is an idiot who doesn't understand his feelings that's it.

Ace never understood the impact you had on him. He was so used to you annoying him with something that he didn't really want to know. Or the way you plagued his thoughts at night. Or the 'girly' games you forced him to play with Sabo and Luffy when you were kids. Such as house, tea parties, kitchen and office.

(He enjoyed playing office as he got to play the boss, but he will never admit it. Though he hated playing kitchen the most)

He hated it.

He hated the fact that you always got your way.

He hated the ache in his heart that came when he was alone. And by god, it always disappeared when you'd be around.

Everything about you tormented him. (It was in a good way. He is just dramatic)

And someone noticed it.

Deuce knows something is bothering his captain. He looked as if he had been kicked in the face and was defeated by some five year old kid. Almost like a puppy, but he would never say that to his hot-headed and short-tempered but loveable captain's face. Deuce likes his face the way it is.

Deuce knows about Ace's drunken ramblings of his little brother Luffy. He can recite Luffy's childhood and information he didn't need to know word to word because of his captain. Hell, maybe the other crewmates could do that, too.

But when his captain is drinking alone and away from the rambunctious party (surprisingly), Deuce sees the way he gets weird. It's almost as if he is missing something. He wonders if it's one of the girls from the islands they had visited. Did one of them catch his attention? Though he was always dismissive of them.

Maybe it was a man? Or was he just missing his brother?

But when he seemed so melancholic, he talked about someone who wasn't his brother.

Ace doesn't know who or what you really are to him. You aren't his sibling, nor are you his crewmate. You are close to him but not in the same way Luffy is or as Sabo was. Or the way Deuce is close to him.

He thinks you are his friend, but his heart says that's not right. He can not pinpoint the feelings he has regarding you.

There are no relations between you and him, but he feels something weird.

And it burns. Like an uncontrollable wildfire, his heart hurts and soothes. Like a storm that demands attention, whether he likes it or not.

He remembers every word you ever said to him.

"Don't you forget it, Portgas D. Ace, whatever happens, don't get scared. No matter what anyone says, I'll wait for you."

Ace doesn't get scared. He isn't afraid of death. (He thinks death to him is better), but a part of him believes you. That you would truly wait for him and all the years he spent with you were not a cruel joke or a dream he made up.

He doesn't understand what you do to his heart.

He remembers that he once asked you if you would still be friends with him if he was a monster.

"Ace is Ace just like how I am me and how Sabo is Sabo and Luffy is Luffy."

And his heart burns again.

He thinks he knows what you do to him, and then he doesn't understand it.

Yet, he laughs as if he knows. And a part of him knows.

He thinks he would like to play house with you again, and this time, he wants to be the husband.

[xxchumanixx]

Superstitious pt. 1

Elijah Mikaelson x reader

Niklaus Mikaelson x reader

Warnings/Tags: hurt, angst, violence, blood, fluff, comfort, character death

Loving the same person can be hard. Especially when history seems to have a habit of repeating itself.

Authors note: Heya! Had this idea because of a dream that sadly got disturbed by my alarm going off. I really love this and I hope you will as well!

I seem to have a hang for dramatic stories I think.

There will be a part two, split into two chapters (one with Elijah, one with Niklaus)!

Word count: 3.612

"Nik!" his name fell off your lips in a happy squeal, throwing yourself at the oh so dangerous hybrid.

He caught you with ease, holding you flush against his body. "Hello, love." he greeted you in return, his lips curling into a smile. "How are you?"

You separated, looking up at him. "I'm doing great! How are you?" you gave back, smiling. He chuckled at your obviously good mood, leading you to one of the windows of his gallery. "I'm good as well, thank you love."

Your breath hitched in your throat, as you saw the gorgeous view the window provided you. It was one where you could step a little outside, but not really being outside. Almost like a small winter garden.

"See, I promised you a breathtaking view." the hybrid spoke behind you, smiling at the way your eyes lit up and goosebumps covered your skin.

He knew you loved photography, always searching for opportunities to bring out your camera or phone.

The view infront of you instantly made you want to snap some pictures.

The night sky was perfectly in view, along with some of the city's skyline, paired with the enormous chapel located at the far west.

It truly was breathtaking.

"Let me dim the lights and open the window so you can take some pictures." Niklaus offered, before opening the big window infront of you and dimming the lights.

The cool air floating in helped to calm you down a little.

It was the first time that you were at his gallery, as he refused to show you unless it was perfect. Now that you finally could see it, you saw what he meant by 'perfect'.

It truly was.

Almost every one of his paintings was displayed in the big room you currently where at, some of them in the attached rooms that where to your left and right.

It was magical.

You were happy that he was able to fulfill his wish of having his own gallery, a place where he could show his art and inspire others.

When he first told you about it, you were a little hesitant. Considering the past and the words said about him (though you didn't believe them), you weren't sure if he really wanted this.

But now, you knew it was the right thing for him to do. Something to get noticed by in a good way, something people would speak of with kind and gentle words, not the gruesome ones they tried to scare you with.

You fished for your phone in your pocket, not having brought your camera with you.

Looking for the perfect angles you took some pictures and then a few more.

Niklaus watched you with a fond smile on his face, happy to spend some time with you alone.

He was entranced by your appearance, the way your hair flowed down your back like silk, and the glow in your eyes when you looked at the different pictures you took.

He knew he loved you, even though he never would have dared to say it out loud.

Your gentle and kind spirit, which contrasted to his in such a way it took his breath. The way you never got scared because of him and his past, which you well knew thanks to a lot of people.

You had refused to believe what they told you, wanting to get to know him despite everything they said about him being the big bad wolf, the original hybrid.

You were amazed by him.

The way he changed after his daughter was born, the way he cared about the people he loved, showing it in his own ways.

He would have done everything for you, you just had to ask. Seeing you so happy filled him with pride and joy.

But the steps approaching that only he could hear, made him sigh to himself. His time with you alone was up.

You turned around to him, just at the moment where his brother entered the room through the door located behind Niklaus.

"Elijah!" you breathed out, smiling at the older Mikaelson brother with adoration in your eyes.

Niklaus' heart broke for the millionth time, as he knew he would have never stood a chance against his noble brother.

You walked over to Elijah, engulfing him in a hug. He hugged you back, holding you close to him with a smile on his face.

He could hear your human heart race, could feel the happiness that radiated off of you.

"Hello, brother." Niklaus spoke up, causing you two to separate. Elijah greeted him with a curt nod, stepping forward with his hand on the small of your back.

You were oblivious to their silent argument about you, Elijah's gritted teeth the only indicator. But you brushed it off, wanting to show them the pictures you had taken.

"Come on, let me show you the pictures I took." you spoke, smiling at both brothers, before walking over to one of the lounges Niklaus had sat up.

The cushions made the slightest bit of sound as you sunk down on them, Niklaus and Elijah following you short.

They huddled closer to you, each one trying to be closer than the other. You flipped your phone so they could both see, before starting to slowly swipe through the various photographs you had taken.

"These are stunning, darling." Elijah complimented you, making you blush.

"They really are, love." Niklaus agreed with his brothers words. You felt the warmth spread through you at their words, making your heart pick up its pace.

You couldn't deny your love for them, which seemed almost equal. But your heart had trouble deciding, and it slowly killed you inside. You were scared to lose them if you dared to say a word about your feelings, especially when knowing about their past with Tatia.

So you kept it to yourself, hoping not to break because of it.

"She's going to die because of them" "What makes you so sure of that?" "It's history repeating itself. The love of them will ultimately destroy her."

You smoothed out the dress you had picked out the night before, trying to calm yourself down.

It was the night of Niklaus' gallery opening to the public for the first time, the room being crowded with lots of people you didn't know.

You hadn't seen Niklaus nor Elijah yet, leaving you almost alone in the middle of strangers. The only face you knew being your best friend's, but she was already occupied with some wealthy looking man.

"Lost?" the sudden voice behind you had you jumping, your heart doubling its pace with your hand above it.

"Elijah!" you scolded the man now stood beside you, who simply chuckled in return. "You seemed lost amongst these people." he explained, smiling. He knew you hated crowds, them always making you feel uneasy.

You decided to let your anger about him scaring you slide, instead of giving into it.

"I was, thank you very much." you replied, a smile slowly forming on your face as well. "But now you're here so I won't have to watch Marissa cling to this stranger or these poor souls trying to look smart, anymore."

He chuckled again at your words, grabbing two champagne flutes from a waiter passing by. He offered one to you, which you gladly took. "To Niklaus and his gallery." you toasted, clinking your glass with his, before taking a sip of the sweet beverage.

Elijah looked you over for a moment, before opening his mouth to speak. "Y/N, you-"

"You look stunning, love." Niklaus' voice traveled towards you, as he walked over to you, interrupting his brother.

Elijah's fist clenched, but he kept quiet.

You blushed, feeling your insecurity fade a little at his grin. "Thank you." you smiled back at him, subconsciously smoothing over your dress. "I thought I should wear something fit for the occasion."

"It fits perfectly." Niklaus assured you, offering you his hand. "Care for a little tour?" he wanted to know, his eyes gleaming.

"Sure-" you wanted to give back, but Elijah interrupted you. "Actually-" he spoke up, glaring at his brother in the most subtle way possible. "I was about to show Y/N where you hung her photographs."

Your eyes widened at the same time Niklaus' narrowed. You knew that he thought about showing some of your photographs, but never assumed he really would.

Before Niklaus had the chance to reply, Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to one of the attached rooms where Niklaus displayed his art - and apparently yours, too.

"I-" you stuttered, trying to find the right words. "I never thought he would actually show them." "They are beautiful." Elijah gave back, smiling down at you. "They deserve to be seen. They should be seen."

Your cheeks warmed as you looked away from him. You still couldn't believe seeing your own work at a gallery, let alone Niklaus'.

But he gave your hand a soft squeeze, making your eyes find their way back to his. "I really mean it, Y/N." he said. "They are beautiful. And so are you."

Now, you really blushed, your heart skipping a beat.

They would be the death of you.

"Look at her. She doesn't even know that she has them both wrapped around her finger." "What will happen if she finds out? If she discovers that they would fight the other to death if it meant being with her?" "Let's just hope she will do so and then pit brother against brother."

"Do you think she will be more like her mother?"

The question caught you off-guard, making you halt in your movement, the ice cream in your hands no longer important.

"Why would you ask that, Nik?" you wanted to know, frowning at the hybrid.

He hesitated, his mouth agape, before he looked down at his ice cone, licking his bottom lip. "I don't want her to be like me." he quietly admitted, worry etched in his features.

"Why would you say that?" you asked in disbelieve, not understanding how he could think this bad about himself. "You're a great person, why shouldn't she become like you? Or a mix of you and Hayley, for that matter."

He looked back up at your words, hope shining in his eyes like the stars above you.

"Do you really think so?" he wanted to know, sounding more vulnerable than he would have ever admitted to be.

He couldn't stop but hope you really meant what you had said.

"Of course I do." you gave back, smiling up at him. "Why would I not? You're kind, charming, funny and smart. Why shouldn't she become like that, too?"

He made a sound of relief, a smile forming on his face. His heart skipped a beat, something he hadn't experienced in a long time, before you came into his life.

You were like a ray of sunshine after the rain, bringing the rainbow and all its beautiful colors with you wherever you went. Seeing you smile would make his day, hearing you laugh his entire week.

You truly had him wrapped around your finger.

He swallowed, as he thought back to the first opening of his gallery.

He had noticed two women near you and his brother, seemingly talking to themselves. But he hadn't missed what they had said.

He wasn't sure if he should pay much attention to their words, or if they meant entirely different things.

Either way he had kept it to himself.

He embraced you as best as he could, trying to show you his gratitude for your kind words.

He wouldn't admit it, but hearing you say such things about him made him happy, made him value you even more.

Your hands wrapped around him as best as you could, still holding tight onto your ice cream. You would have rather died, before letting it hit the ground.

You loved your ice cream walks with Niklaus, walking through town after the sun had set, buying ice cream and talking about everything you came up with.

It made you happy beyond words.

But your walks with Elijah were beautiful as well.

He would take you to new places, showing you buildings and explaining the history behind them.

Talking about what he had witnessed in person and what happened where. How each building was important in his own way, and showing you the beautiful landscapes.

You would occasionally make picnics, bringing your favorite snacks and drinks along with you, spending the day talking and laughing.

You truly had them wrapped around your fingers.

"They would never turn her, even if it meant her growing old and eventually dying." "Maybe. But her time is running out. She won't even get any gray hair, so don't worry about her growing old."

"Elijah!" Rebekah came rushing inside, frantically searching for her brother. "Elijah!"

"What is it with you?" Niklaus wanted to know as equally as loud, as he rounded the corner, not understanding why his sister had to shout at this time of night. Not that he would have been asleep, anyways.

"It's Y/N!" his sister explained, worry written all across her features, carrying the girl he loved in her hands. "I don't know what happened! She suddenly spat blood, before she fainted."

Niklaus' heart began to pound violently, his head spinning, as he stopped dead in his tracks. Mouth agape he wasn't able to move at first, when suddenly Elijah sped into the hall. They seemed to move in sync, as they both approached their sister with you limp in her arms.

"Bring her into my room!" Elijah acted quickly, not missing the sound of protest his brother made at his words, though; barely being able to hold it back.

But Niklaus knew that it would have been pointless to argument, especially when he didn't know if you would survive, only wasting precious time. So he swallowed his pride and followed his siblings.

Rebekah lay you down on Elijah's bed, checking your temperature. "She's burning up!" she explained, looking at her brothers for any indication of help.

Niklaus' teeth grit, as he seemed to grasp what led to you being in this condition.

"What is it, brother?" Elijah wanted to know, having noticed his brother's change in demeanor.

Niklaus hesitated, but eventually spoke up.

"At the gallery, when you and Y/N looked at her photographs..." he bit his lip, needing a moment to gather the right words. "There were two women, I initially thought they were visitors. But they talked about Y/N having us both wrapped around her finger. About her eventually pitting us against each other. I didn't think much of it but I think they are responsible for this."

He wasn't the one to back down that easily, but he knew he should have told Elijah earlier, who's expression showed exactly that.

"And you didn't deem this important?" he almost shouted, not able to believe that he didn't tell him. "Now Y/N's life is at stake, and you tell me this just now?!"

Niklaus was ashamed.

Not because his brother was angry with him, but because he had failed you. He had known about a threat, still deciding to ignore it, putting you in danger because he didn't want his brother to become overprotective of you.

He should have known better.

How would you ever forgive him, if you even made it out alive?

Elijah paced, as he heard your heartbeat growing weaker. He stopped, putting his hands in his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration.

"We have to-" he began, but Niklaus cut him off. "No!" he shouted through the tears blurring his vision. "Don't even think about it!"

Elijah's eyes widened in disbelieve. He couldn't understand how his brother would willingly let you die.

"Are you seriously just going to let her die?" he shouted. "Just because you wouldn't stand her eventually choosing me instead of you?"

Niklaus shook his head. "No, brother. Because she would be sired to you. She loves you, and if you turn her, she could-" "Could, Niklaus!" Elijah cut him off, anger making his voice shake. "I refuse to let her die just because you're scared of losing her!"

Even though his words made Elijah's heart flutter, he knew that you loved his brother as well. He had seen it in your eyes - the way you would look at Niklaus as if he meant the world to you.

How could he possibly compare to that?

It was impulsive and maybe even selfish, but before either one could react, Elijah had bitten into his wrist and pressed it to your mouth, making you swallow the crimson liquid.

"No!" Niklaus shouted, making a move for his brother, but Rebekah held him back as best as she could.

It took him a second, but eventually he broke free from her, rushing at Elijah. They collided, landing on the ground in a heap.

"How could you?!" Niklaus wanted to know, punching his brother in the face, anger making his eyes glow. "She would have died!" Elijah tried to make him come to his senses, gaining the upper hand for a moment, trying to hold his brother down. "How could I not?"

A tear slipped from Niklaus' eye, as he suddenly gave up every fight, slumping on his back.

He didn't want you to end up like them, doomed to live forever, not able to have any children of your own.

A wish you deeply harbored.

But now, your heartbeat had stopped.

You were dead.

And if it weren't for Elijah you might have had a better afterlife than what was about to come.

Hunger.

Heightened emotions.

The possibility of you being sired to Elijah.

It was like a nightmare come true for Niklaus.

He understood why his brother felt the need to save you, but he still hated him for it.

He hated him for robbing you of all chances to live a normal life.

To make you like them.

Turning you into a monster.

Elijah swallowed as he registered your missing heartbeat.

He let go of his brother, sitting back on the ground. His hair hung in his face, but he couldn't care less.

The weight of his decision suddenly hit him like a bullet, stealing his breath.

He had taken everything from you.

Not even giving you the chance to pick.

And now you would pay the price for his selfishness.

It was silent for a while, neither of the siblings daring to utter a word.

But the sudden gasp you let out as you shot into a sitting position broke the silence, making three pairs of eyes turn to you.

You were back.

Elijah part two

Niklaus part two

[nottyourlover]

Birthday Shenanigans.

a/n: i literally need to study for my exam block for like the next month until it's over, if i post anything on tumblr literally tell me to shut up and study. temporary hiatus?

summary: azriel and your son attempt to make you breakfast, but it goes horribly wrong.

warnings: none?

word count: 622.

The morning sun streamed through the curtains of you and Azriel's spacious master bedroom, waking you up. You yawned loudly, reaching over to Azriel's side of the bed only to find it empty. Patting the cool mattress, you frowned, thinking that surely, he didn't leave for another early morning? Then you heard loud clanging noises coming from downstairs, Orion's small giggles and Azriel's poor attempts at muffling his noise. Oh, you sighed in relief.

Before you could get up to investigate, however, Azriel appeared, leaning against in the doorway, with a twinkle in his eye.

"Good morning, my love," he said, lips curling into a dazed smile. "Happy birthday."

You beamed, feeling a warm sense of happiness wash over you. "Thank you, Az," you said. "What's going on down there?"

Azriel chuckled. "Orion and I thought we'd surprise you with breakfast in bed. But things aren't going exactly as planned."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little worried since last time's family cooking night ended with meatballs stuffed in places where no things should ever be stuffed.

"...Az, what does that mean?"

Azriel shrugged, "Well, let's just say that there's flour everywhere, some pancakes are stuck to the roof, and our son is covered in syrup."

You couldn't help but laugh, worry clearing ever so slightly, imagining the scene in the kitchen. "Sounds like quite the party. You've left him alone downstairs?"

Azriel looked a little sheepish, "He promised to be good!"

Helping you get out of bed, he took your hand and led you down the stairs. As you entered the kitchen, you were greeted with a scene that was both chaotic and heartwarming.

Orion was covered in syrup and flour, but he was grinning from ear to ear, clearly proud of himself for helping his dad make breakfast. Azriel returned to what you assumed was his previous post at the stove, flipping pancakes with a look of intense concentration on his face.

All around your beloved family was a mess of flour, broken eggs and syrup, with pans and mixing bowls scattered haphazardly across the countertops.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight, feeling a sense of overwhelming love and gratitude for your little family. "This is the best birthday present ever," you said, taking in the chaotic scene around you.

Orion shook his head, laughing. "No mama, we got you an even better gift!"

Azriel looked up, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Orion's right but wait until you see what I have planned for you tonight," he said, nonchalantly. You death glared Azriel, but Orion didn't even seem to notice his father's innuendo, as he was busy going through a bag of chocolate chips. Azriel chuckled, "I'm not sure how edible these pancakes are going to be though."

At the word "pancakes" Orion finally looked up at you with a grin, his syrup-covered face beaming. "Happy birthday, mama!" he said, as you came closer, giggling as he outstretched his grubby hands. He was only 6 now, but you and Azriel both felt he was growing up too quickly.

You gave your son a big hug, brushing away his wavy raven hair and kissing his forehead. Azriel called, "Wait for me!" and the three of you stood in the middle of a dreadfully messy kitchen and embraced.

"Mama, something smells weird," Orion suddenly exclaimed, plugging his nose dramatically.

"Azriel! The pancakes!" Azriel's eyes widened as he dashed back to the stove where a cloud of gas was gathered, rising from the remains of a burnt pancake. Unfortunately for your husband, this time, the pancake wouldn't flip over at all, leaving a foul-smelling mess stuck to the pan.

He smiled sheepishly, "Happy Birthday?"

This, you thought, was what happiness truly meant. Messy, chaotic, and oh-so-sweet.

[cipheramnesia]

hello i am giving u an excuse to talk about the chucky TV series because i generally don't like horror but i watched it and it was great

My friend... this goes so much deeper than the TV series.

DATELINE 1988! The horror movie slasher genre is THRIVING in the boom of video and cheap rental stores. Jason. Freddy. Michael. Already household names, nay! Heroes! Enter one Don Mancini, young and queer and ready to share some fear with a little idea knocking around in his head about a killer doll. With little more than a dream and few friends he tackled the enormous task of crafting the next horror legend. On the advice of a lawyer friend, he loaded Chucky up with distinct, trademarked features and made sure copyright on the titular killer doll was his and HIS ALONE.

Child's Play, the original Chucky movie, debuted to instant classic status. To modern eyes it may seem strange that a concept as silly as a killer doll could ascend to the heights of the holy triumvirate, but SIMULTANEOUS to Chucky we found such properties as Cabbage Patch Kids and My Buddy dolls - a virtual BUFFET of saccharine toys just begging for a counterpart with edge, and Chucky edged hard. The My Buddy doll never recovered as millions of children globally cowered from the mere TRAILER of Chucky and his slimeball snarl voice broadcast it's way to hearts and minds. But this wasn't all, no, for you see Chucky had a most peculiar gift, the gift of a soulful heart.

While many other slasher movies focused on a test of wills between survivor girl and unstoppable monster, Child's Play was first and foremost the coming of age story for Andy Barclay and his, Karen. In particular credit must be given to actor Catherine Hicks who never wanted to be in a horror movie, and made the conscious decision to play Karen as a straight dramatic role about a single mother and her son. In a sea of peculiarly good choices, it perhaps was hers more than any other that granted Child's Play a quasi-Spielberg-esque movie magic to transcend the genre stereotypes and absurd premise, to create something unique.

While she would not return for Child's Play 2, the die was cast with Alex Vincent as Andy and Brad Dourif as Chucky. We saw the introduction of street smart older stepsister played by Christine Elise. With a bigger budget, nastier deaths, and a truly grotesque version of Chucky, Child's Play 2 is likely considered the best in the series, as it predates the series' later campiness and had the delightfully rubbery 80s practical effects. Not me though, I love them all except of course Child's Play 3, the military academy one, which rounds out the first arc of Chucky. For a little while.

In 1998, just in time for a ten year anniversary, Chucky would RISE AGAIN, in Bride of Chucky. You see, while Don Mancini no longer had the rights to the Child's Play name, he still owned Chucky. Would this new chapter in the knife wielding minimaniac mean the previous continuity was dispensed with? NO, for this series was and still is violent killer baby of ONE MAN and his found film family. Instead, Bride of Chucky would introduce a new member of the family, Tiffany Valentine, played by the inimitable Jennifer Tilly. In this chapter of Chucky's tale, he and Tiffany took center stage, with no consistent protagonist, and a greater focus on absurd humor. Bride of Chucky and Seed of Chucky are both movies which give the sense of perhaps Mancini himself being more comfortable with his sexuality, more open and free. It was also the turning point where Chucky would go from a by the numbers slasher to a metatexual interrogation of the horror genre itself.

Besides playing with self referential comedy and genre references, Don Mancini introduced an in-universe awareness of Chucky's prior crimes, both as a human and as a doll, including the set of an in-universe movie (Chucky Goes Psycho) starring actress Jennifer Tilly. Hang onto your butts, because we're going in hot. If Bride of Chucky felt like it was going to weird places by having two dolls fucking and working on their romantic matters, Seed of Chucky abandoned all pretense, enjoying the presence of stuntcasting like John Waters and Redman (as himself) in roles specifically for gruesome deaths. But Jennifer Tilly was the central meta tornado.

Try and follow this. Real actress Jennifer Tilly plays Tiffany Valentine, who gets her soul transferred into a doll which is also voiced by Jennifer Tilly. Subsequently Jennifer Tilly also plays fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (who is otherwise identical to real world Jennifer Tilly), cast to play Tiffany Valentine in fictional fictionalized account of the fictional world real events of Child's Play 1 & 2, and also to voice the fictional Tiffany Valentine doll along with fictional Brad Dourif voicing the fictional Chucky doll, both dolls created for the fictional movie Chucky gets lucky. However, the fictional dolls get possessed by the real fictional characters Chucky and Tiffany, still voiced by real actors Brad Dourif and Jennifer Tilly. Eventually, Tiffany is able to transfer her soul into fictional Jennifer Tilly.

So, hang with me, in Chucky this means that fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (played by real Jennifer Tilly) is now possessed by fictional real murderer Tiffany Valentine (played by real Jennifer Tilly) who has to pretend to be fictional actress Jennifer Tilly (as played by Jennifer Tilly).

Beyond all this fuckery, Chucky and Tiff must cope with their new child who vacillates between Glen or Glenda, a kind of bigender or genderfluid character at a time when those ideas weren't very widespread, but which feels deeply informed both my Mancini's experience as a gay man, and also the long history of queers in Hollywood. At the conclusion of these two movies, it seemed like we were done with Chucky, with Tiffany living happily ever after as Tillyception and Glen/Glenda now living as two children, having their soul split into the twins fictional Tilly was pregnant with.

However, it seems that these five movies total instead were a kind of foundation for the next generation, when Chucky returned in Curse of Chucky and Cult of Chucky. Together these movies added a new layer of recursion, and might be called the Nica Pierce chapter. Both films featured less camp, and a more serious tone which, initially seemed to imply an intent to reboot the series. This was, of course, a fake out as Mancini not only revealed the new movies as a direct continuation, but also gave Chucky an illegitimate human daughter in the form of Nica Pierce, played by Fiona Dourif, the real world daughter of Brad Dourif. Not only that, but we would get the reintroduction of a long absent character, Andy Barclay, still played by Alex Vincent.

In the reprisal, Alex Vincent, an actor who was damaged and traumatized by being a child actor in movies like the original Child's Play, plays Andy as an adult damaged and traumatized by his experiences as a child in the original Child's Play.

Now, eventually Chucky gets control of Nica and Fiona Dourif does drag to play young Chucky and there's fucked up lesbians and gay kissing and a priest explodes, but all that happens in the TV series. What I'm really needing everyone to get at here is that from 1988 up to RIGHT NOW Don Mancini has kept continuity of plot AND ACTORS, with two seasons and an upcoming third which incorporates every single movie detail. A series which, while silly at times, always both respects its audience second, but FIRST is itself above all. Every single movie and episode has been something which set out to be its own thing, free from control or demands of conformity and it always has been, like it or not, love it or leave it. Somehow the killer doll movie has turned into a 35 year long and counting love affair, a found extended nuclear family both on screen and off.

And perhaps the best part is how much the queerness has been given a chance to flourish, going from a whisper of an influence in early films, to campy comedy later, to fully realized queer relationships in the series. Not only that, but it's always seemed to treat its atypical protagonists with a humanity and respect few other media properties manage. The young Andy works so well because he's an actual character, not just some kid, treated like a capable and thinking human. Tiff and Glen/Glenda are bizarre but never dehumanized, never treated as undeserving of human kindness. And Nica, a paraplegic, is amazing, with her disabilities informing the plot, but not innately treated as some definitive limit or inspiration porn. It's rare for so many disenfranchised characters to get such a human treatment, and frankly bizarre that the murder doll series is the one to do it. But that's kind of the real beauty of Chucky. Every character is human first, before anything else.

In fact, there is only one character who is genuinely human second, and it's Chucky himself. Now I'm not saying there's no room for complex antagonists, but in all Chucy movies, the one constant is this: Chucky is a total dick. Not evil, not a menace, just a pure all out asshole. Chucky is a piece of shit person first, murderer second, and that's GREAT. You will never be in a position where you hope the evil murder doll succeeds (Tiff excepted). You will never stop and wonder "Gosh maybe Chucky is secretly a good guy deep down." Chucky is always a gaslighting selfish prick who wants to live for ever and kill everyone, full stop. It's beautiful, it frees the mind to dwell on the humanity of other characters because you never once are getting asked to give the lying cheating manipulative little fucker the benefit of the doubt.

I don't know what it is, but Mancini just gets it. He gets the best and the worst of people and that's what makes this whole machine tick. It's huge and overwhelming to think of how many people and plotlines and stories are encompassed by Chucky and then like a falling air-conditioner it just slams into my head: "Oh yeah, this is about a killer doll."

[sanest-bsd-delegate]

𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲

Oneshot: For a minute, everything will be fine Genre: Fluff, nothing particular A/N: Just had a mental convo with Dazai on this →Masterlist

As the sun begins to set over the horizon, casting a warm and golden glow over the land, the world seems to come alive with a majestic energy. The rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant sound of birds singing their evening songs, and the way the clouds dance across the sky - it's all a symphony of beauty that cannot be ignored.

"Death sounds pretty good right now" Dazai spoke, his head on your lap as you both sat near the edge of the cliff, the Yokohama city the sun's rays slowly reducing it's luminance.

Your hand ran through his dusty darkish brown hair, as you took a deep breath, each passing moment making you feel like it was your last.

Was Dazai right all along? Is their truly a worth living when everything around you is chaotic? that a simple mere human mind was able to think beyond the way of living confused you, but in this world, where possibilities are endless, one cannot hold back and stop.

"You alright?" You spoke, your voice as quiet as possible, as your finger played with Dazai's hair, (S/T) skin on brown, as little rays of light dance across the area, golden on yellow, and yellow on green.

A soft sound of reassurance was heard from Dazai's mouth, as turned and tilted himself, his face now buried inside of your lap, his breath tickling your thighs as you laugh and shove him off you, before you stood— dusting off the tiny hay like grass.

You couldn't decipher Dazai's face, yet he got up when you did, only to lose his balance again and end up back on the ground.

You extended your hand, as you watch Dazai fell face flat on the ground, before he reached out his hand, you pulling him up as he stood.

"Well aren't you quiet feisty today belladonna?"

"I saw that," You spoke as you crossed your hands over our chest, a playful smirk on your face.

With a smirk, Dazai dusted off his clothes and chuckled, "Ah, you know, a little tumble just adds some excitement to the day."

You raised an eyebrow playfully, "Excitement or not, you do have a talent for making dramatic entries."

He flashed a mischievous grin, "Life's too short for anything less, my dear belladonna"

You both started to walk back to the city, thanking the wind for letting you have peaceful time near the cliff.

As you continued walking, You couldn't help but ask, "So, what trouble have you gotten yourself into this time?"

Dazai placed a hand over his heart in mock offense, misinterpreting your question, "Me? Trouble? I'll have you know, I was merely exploring the boundaries of gravity."

You rolled your eyes, obvious to his ignorance, but still replied "Exploring the boundaries of gravity? Is that what you call tripping over your own feet? Considering that, I will thanking Chuuya for making you interested in gravity"

He laughed, a sound that seemed to dance through the air, "Ah, you see through all my secrets, don't you?"

"I've had plenty of practice," You replied, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Dazai's expression turned momentarily serious, as he looked at you with a glint of genuine warmth in his eyes. "Well, I'm glad someone's keeping track of my antics."

You nudged him playfully, "Someone has to make sure you don't accidentally fall into any more 'gravity exploration' missions."

His laughter echoed once again, and for that moment, as you strolled down the path with the sun casting a warm glow, it felt like the troubles of the world were distant and inconsequential.

Right now, it's hard not to feel small when faced with something so amazing. The world is tough to live in, but there are people who bring good luck to others. It's a reminder that these people are just regular folks, living in a world that's both dangerous and mysterious. But it's also a message that they need to do their part to take care of this world we used to call home.

[bi-bard]

And Lover, Be Good to Me - Joel Miller Imagine [HBO's The Last of Us]

Title: And Lover, Be Good to Me

Pairing: Joel Miller X Reader

Based On: Be

Word Count: 2,404 words

Warning(s): nightmares, mention of death/violence

Summary: The world suddenly crumbles down. When met with anger, fear, and tragedy, the only constant that Joel has left is (Y/n). And he's desperate to avoid losing that too.

Author's Note: I haven't seen a lot of (or any, really) early apocalypse stories about Joel, so I wanted to shoot my shot with it.

WASTELAND, BABY! - HOZIER WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST

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The beginning of the end could be traced back to the morning of Joel's birthday.

I had gone to see him and Sarah before I went to work.

I knocked on the door but walked in without waiting for an answer from anyone. I had grown so close to them that I didn't need to worry about it.

"Where's the elderly one?" I yelled as I walked into the dining room.

"Sitting right here with perfectly fine hearing," Joel said, flinching a bit at my voice.

"Happy birthday, dork," I ruffled his hair. I waved at Sarah, who was sitting at the table next to him. "Morning, sweetheart."

"Morning," she smiled. "Want some eggs?"

"With added shells," Joel added.

"I actually can't today, big meeting," I explained. "I just wanted to stop by and drop this off."

I placed a birthday bag in front of Joel on the table. He stared at it for a moment.

I chuckled at him before leaning down and hugging him. "I'm serious. Happy birthday."

"Thanks," he muttered back.

I leaned back and waved to Sarah. "Make sure this one has a good day, got it?"

"Understood," she nodded.

I started walking out of the house, but only made it a few feet before Sarah came running out and stopped me. I furrowed my eyebrows, confused about the urgency that seemed to form in the last few seconds.

"I need your help with something," she explained. "My dad has this watch that I was going to get fixed for him, but the guy at the shop-"

"You need cash?"

She sheepishly nodded.

I reached into my wallet and pulled out a bit of cash. "You can keep the change as long as you aren't using it to buy anything illegal."

She sighed dramatically. "I guess that's fine."

I faked a laugh before hugging her. "Have a good day."

"You too."

If I knew that was the last time that I was going to see Sarah, then I would have held onto her for a little bit longer.

That night, the world came crumbling down. In all manners of the phrase.

It all felt like a bit of a blur.

I remember running from work after my boss tried to attack me. I found crowds of people attacking each other and yelling. I saw fires and heard gunshots. I couldn't get to my car. I just kind of ran for it.

I don't remember how long I spent trying to run and stay safe. I was just scared and doing anything I could to survive.

I was lucky. Especially compared to most other people.

I found myself at a triage clinic with a large bruise on my side and a few small cuts.

I was sitting on a cot while a doctor looked over my injuries.

It was the first time that I had taken the time to truly think about what had happened. I was alone. My family was God knows where. The only people I truly had in town were Joel, Sarah, and Tommy. I didn't know where any of them were. If they were alive.

"Do you guys have a list of people that have been here," I asked, cutting off whatever the doctor had been saying.

"No, sorry," he said. "With the large number and the speed it was all set up, we never had the chance."

"Okay," I nodded.

I mindlessly looked at the crowd.

I wasn't truly looking for anything. I just wanted to have some semblance of hope.

My eyes latched onto one person in particular.

I thought I was hallucinating when I first looked over. However, as I sat there longer, just staring, I realized that I wasn't. This was real. Tommy was walking by right now.

I shrugged off the army doctor looking over me. He tried to scold me, but I ignored him. I pushed myself off of the cot that they had been using like an examination table, still not listening to the instructions to stay still to make sure I don't injure myself further.

"Tommy!" I shouted.

He looked over at me, a confused look stretched across his face. I saw the look change into a smile that showed nothing but relief.

"(Y/n)," he muttered.

I ran over, trying to pay no mind to the bruises on my side. When I finally made it to Tommy, he yanked me forward into a hug, holding me close to him. I closed my eyes as I hugged him back.

"God, I was scared you got infected or shot or just- God," he muttered.

"Could say the same to you," I replied.

Tommy stepped back, looking like he just realized something. "I know someone who's gonna be very happy to see you."

I had a sneaking suspicion of who it was. But it didn't bring me the overwhelming sense of happiness that I wanted it to bring. The idea of Tommy just saying "someone" and not something like "people" made my heart sink a little.

I tried to not pay any mind to the sinking feeling in my stomach as Tommy led me somewhere.

I stopped when I spotted Joel.

He looked exhausted. Angry. The exhaustion was understandable. It was hard not to be. But I don't remember ever seeing him with so much anger on his face before. This wasn't a look that went with being angry in the moment. This was anger that was consistent. Anger with the world, instead of anger with a single subject.

I took note of Sarah's absence. I knew Joel. He was protective before all of this. I knew that he would never let her go anywhere without him now. He would be glued to the girl's side, keeping her from all harm. That's just who he was.

"You alright?" Tommy asked, touching my arm.

I didn't pull my eyes from Joel as I nodded. He dropped his hand and went to guide me further, but I stopped him, touching his arm. "Tommy?"

"Yeah?" he looked back at me.

"Where's Sarah?"

I didn't want to ask Joel when I met him. If it was bad, then I didn't want to be the reason that he thought about it.

Tommy looked down for a moment.

"Joel, Sarah, and I got around that initial blockade that the army had put up," he explained. "We made it into town. A plane crashed and it caused the truck to crash. I got separated from Joel and Sarah for a while, but when I found them, there was a soldier holding a gun up to Joel. I shot him before he could shoot Joel. And then I heard Joel scream. The... The soldier had fired before I got to them. He got Sarah through the torso. She... She died."

I let out a shaky breath as tears filled my eyes. I looked down. "Oh my god."

He stepped forward and hugged me again.

It took me a moment, but I eventually stepped back and let out another sigh.

"You alright?" he muttered.

"I'm good," I nodded. I had gotten my tears under control. I was just grateful that the crowd had blocked Joel from the little scene that had taken place before.

I decided to walk over to Joel after a moment. I steered through the crowd easily enough. Tommy helped.

"Joel," he called once we were a few feet away.

Joel looked up from whatever spot on the ground he had been using to zone out. I saw his eyes go wide as he looked at me.

"I found a stray," Tommy added.

"Fuck you," I mumbled, chuckling a bit.

Joel stood up. "(Y/n)?"

"Hi," I felt a new wave of tears fill my eyes.

He quickly stepped forward and pulled me into a tight hug. I wrapped my arms around him, burying my face in his shoulder and closing my eyes. His hold on me only seemed to tighten as he did that.

Joel's voice was shaky as he muttered into my ear, "I thought you... I thought you were-"

"I'm fine," I cut him off. "I promise."

His shoulders relaxed a bit, but he didn't let me go. Not quite yet.

When I pulled back, my eyes caught onto a wound on his head. I didn't question it at the time, but I couldn't help but notice it. Something in my gut just told me that something was different about it. It wasn't a normal wound from getting hurt. It was just... something different.

"Anyone tell you guys where we're meant to go," I asked. "Not like there's much left."

"Not in the slightest," Joel muttered, glancing around. "They only seem worried about the really bad ones."

"Really? They were treating me like glass and all I got is a bruise on my side."

"From what?" Joel's eyebrows furrowed, immediately worried.

"It's fine, really," I touched his arm. "I fell while dealing with an infected. It was why I was dragged here."

"Nice to know the clumsiness hasn't changed," Tommy smirked.

"Believe it or not, the end of the world isn't the ideal time to work on coordination," I replied. "And hey, did good enough to live."

"I say we grab supplies and get the hell out of here," Joel suggested.

"Head out on our own?" I glanced around the area.

"If an outbreak hits here, I don't wanna be in the crowd."

I nodded. "Can't get supplies now."

"Tonight," he decided. "We get what we need then we hit the road."

Getting out of the triage clinic with needed supplies was easier than I thought it would be. Maybe it was the universe showing just a brief moment of kindness considering how difficult surviving was going to be after this.

It was a few nights later when we found ourselves hidden away in an old, abandoned house. After clearing it out, we made ourselves a small camp in the living room.

"I'll take first watch-"

"I've got it," Joel cut me off.

"No, you've been taking first watch every time we've stopped," I replied. "Get some sleep, Joel. I've got it."

"You sure?"

I nodded.

"Fine by me," Tommy shrugged before going to lie down.

"Night," Joel nodded at me.

I grinned. "Night."

As the brother drifted off for a few hours, I found myself relaxing against the wall. The first night I kept watch; Joel had told me all about all sorts of habits to keep me awake. Not that I really needed them. Fear was enough of a motivator for me.

That night had been calm. Nothing to worry about.

Until I heard muttering.

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking around the room.

It was Joel.

I walked over, glancing down at him. It took a matter of moments for it to become clear that he was having some kind of bad dream. I furrowed my eyebrows and knelt down next to him.

"Joel," I whispered.

I pushed a bit on his shoulder. Nothing happened.

"Joel," I repeated, pushing a little harder on his shoulder.

He started shaking more, which was when I started panicking.

I grabbed onto his arms, shaking him roughly. "Joel, Joel!"

He woke suddenly, staring at me with wide eyes and panicked breathing.

"Hey, hey," I held onto his shoulders. I quietly hushed him, muttering about how he was okay.

He sat up, yanking me forward into his arms.

I let one of my hands run through the hair on the nape of his neck. His face was hidden in my shoulder as his hands flexed a bit against my back as he tightened his arms around me.

"I've got you," I mumbled.

By the time I had said that his breathing had calmed down significantly. He was just resting against me now. As if he was scared to let me go.

"Always did, didn't you?" he replied. "Always trying to save me."

"I never needed to save you," I argued.

He leaned back slowly. "Maybe you never tried, but you did. You were always there somewhere. No matter what happened."

My hands were still on his shoulders. His arms were still around me. I wasn't comforting him anymore, but it felt like if I pulled away from him, then I'd be committing some crime.

"I... I lost too much these last few days," he continued. "I can't lose you too."

"You aren't gonna lose me, Joel-"

"I... I want you to stay with me," he cut me off. "All the time. I don't want to let go of you."

"Okay..."

There was a long pause between us. I could have sworn that I saw the gears turning in Joel's head. I could see him imagining a million different scenarios in a matter of seconds. I could have sworn that I had never seen him so... nervous.

But the more I looked at him, the more I realized that I had seen that face before.

I saw it just a few days ago when I hugged him. I saw it whenever I left after babysitting Sarah. I saw it every time he walked me to the door of my car and I jokingly called him a gentleman. I knew that look so well. I just never knew what it meant.

I got to know the meaning just a few seconds later.

When Joel leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine.

I paused for a moment.

I had imagined this before. I had spent countless nights drifting off with this very image rattling around my brain, haunting me as I tried to find some semblance of peace.

Experiencing now was nothing short of that pure peace that I had been longing for.

My lips slowly moved against his as my hands moved to cup the sides of his face.

Just a little while ago, I was certain that I had nothing pushing me to keep moving and keep living. But now, I was reminded of why I hadn't just laid down and died the first night it all went to hell.

I leaned back slowly, resting my forehead against his.

"Stay," Joel muttered.

"I have no intention of going anywhere," I replied. "I'm going to stay right here."

And I meant it.

No matter how hard I needed to fight, who I needed to get through, or what I had to do.

I was always going to be right there.

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[starheirxero]

OH GOD, EVERYTHING IS HAPPENING, EVERYTHING'S GOING ON-

I AM SCREAMING, KICKING, CRYING, RUNNING UP MY WALLS, DRAMATICALLY THROWING MYSELF ON THE GROUND AND WAILING-

FIRST SAMS FUCKING PUNCHES AND KNOCKS ME TO THE GROUND, AND THEN MGAFS GIVES ME THE FINISHING BLOW- FUCK EVERYTHING-

OH GOD, WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN-

First of all, we finally reunited with old Moon…BY GOD, DID I MISS THIS SNARKY BASTARD- I am so happy, to see him again!!! He's so nonchalant and blunt, especially towards people outside of his family- It makes me so nostalgic!! His similarlities to Eclipse are clearer than ever, honestly!

Everything about it just makes me so emotional, I can't even begin to describe it-

He's on that same old beach where he gave up his life, the same old beach where he showed empathy and compassion more than ever before, the same damn old beach where he was the more selfless than he'd ever been- It is making me sick to my stomach/pos

He still loathes himself so much, still looks down on himself and his mistakes. He has never been able to let go of it, he'll always hold on to the mistakes he made. One of these mistakes is leaving a part of his code behind, which in turn created Eclipse. His hatred for him comes from the hatred of himself, because Eclipse is the embodiment of everything he hated in himself.

But even though he hates himself, even though he buried himself underneath a mountain of mistakes, he will never regret protecting his family. He has always been a big brother, always been a protector, no matter what! Even after everything, they are the only thing on his mind. I'm going to fucking cry, man-

God, he adores them so much! Everytime he talked about them, I teared up!

He adores and treasures Sun with all of his heart, and only wishes for him to be safe and sound and happy! He knows his brother, knows he's blaming himself, and wants so badly to put a stop to it! But he can't, because that would involve a conversation, and he cannot bare to hurt him more than he already has.

He wants to thank Monty, who has been his emotional support, his best friend. Old Moon is anti-social, apathetic towards anyone outside of his family, even another version of himself, yet Monty got through to him, time and time again. Monty, in their own right, was family too! The two of them always got each other out of the gutter.

God, when he talked about Lunar and Earth, I legit started to cry a little-

He always wanted a sister. He always wanted a little brother. He wished he could've met them, wished he could've gotten to know them, wished to have loved them as much as he loved Sun!

He did know Lunar, but he never had the chance to truly get to know them. Everything he said about them is honestly just so sweet, and shows old Moon beyond his shell.

They were just a kid in a shitty situation, made with a purpose they never wanted.

Old Moon has a hard time caring for others, yet he looked at this child, who needed help and guidance, and took them underneath his wing without hesitation. Tragically, though, he always kept his distance. I don't think, he quite saw, how much they looked up to him. He always kept them at arms length, because he had hurt one brother, and was afraid to hurt another, afraid to open his heart. Yet, despite this distance, he would've ripped Eclipse apart for what he did, without mercy.

God, I can only imagine what his dynamic with everyone would've been like, especially with Earth, who is so incredibly different from him!

Old Moon is such an intriguing character to look at! Especially with how obviously different he is from New Moon!

I want to analyze him so bad, but my brain just won't cooperate👀

I'm really glad, New Moon got his reassurance though, and even learned from Old Moon, it seems!

Now, as for MGAFS….NO, GOD NO, PLEASE EVERYTHING BUT THIS-

THEY WEREN'T JUST SEPARATED- THEY WERE PERMANENTLY TORN APART, NEVER TO REUNITE AGAIN- THEY CAN'T DO THIS, I CAN'T HANDLE THIS-

BLOODMOON'S REACTION TO HIS BROTHER'S DEATH- HE TRIED SO HARD TO KEEP A STRAIGHT FACE, BUT THE MOMENT THEY TRIED TO LEAVE, HE STARTED YELLING- HE HAS NEVER BEEN ALONE, ALWAYS ONE HALF OF A WHOLE. NOW HIS OTHER HALF IS GONE, AND HE IS ALONE, AND HE WILL NEVER BE WHOLE AGAIN-

I ALSO READ YOUR INTERPRETATION OF BLOODMOON'S LAST LINE, AND IT HAS BROKEN ME- THEY COULD'VE BEEN GOOD. THEY COULD'VE BEEN FRIENDS. THEY JUST DIDN'T WANT TO BE CHANGED, DIDN'T WANT TO BE LIKED AS SOMEONE THEY'RE NOT. THEY JUST WANTED TO BE THEMSELF, YET THEY NEVER WOULD'VE BEEN ACCEPTED THAT WAY-

XERO, WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME-

-Stardust

YESSSSSYESYEYSES I DIDN'T TALK MUCH ABT THE TSAMS EP BC I GOT SO DISTRACTED BY MGAFS BUT EVERYTHING U SAID FOR REAL !!!!!! THE BEACH AND THE CONVO THEY HAD AND AAUAGGGHH

I was honestly so worried that there was going to be a sudden change in how Old Moon acted but seeing him just still wholeheartedly be him made me experience sooo many emotions. Like u said, the similarities between him and Eclipse are just wholly on display and it's like,, oh yea! you are who he stems from!

AND YEAH ALL HIS SENTIMENTS ABT MONTY + SUN + THE BROTHER N SISTER HE NEVER GOT TO KNOW. BURSTS INTO TEARS!!!!! For how little people he cared about, he made up for in caring about that small handful of people with his whole entire soul, even if that care could be convoluted and confusing and ultimately hurtful, he never wanted it to be like that. He just wanted the best :(

AND THEN THE LAST MESSAGE FOR NEW MOON AUGHHH I CAN'T EVEN. DIES EVERYWHEREEEE

AND THEN MGAFS. FUCK. I KNOWWWW I KNOW I KNOW IT FUCKED ME UP SO BADDD. THE FINAL BLOODMOON'S DESPERATE YELLING AT THE END FUCKED ME UP EVEN WORSE TO TOP IT ALL OFF I CAN'T EVENNNN.

AND SHAKES YOU SHAKES YOU THEY COULD HAVE BEEN SO EASY TO ACCOMMODATE FOR IT DRIVES ME INSANE!!! THEY WANTED CONTROL OVER THE ONE THING THAT IMPACTS THEM THE MOST, OF COURSE THEY WOULD HAVE DENIED ANYTHING ELSE!!!! THEY COULD HAVE HAD IT ALLLLL AAAAOAUHGHHHH

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret : What If...?

a series of alternate/unused bks story lines!!

contains spoilers for all of bks!!

alternate torture @ the end

i grappled with this a lot. i very strongly believe that the worst thing you can do with your characters in a high stakes situation is coddle them. if i've learned anything from dnd it's that you cannot be afraid to hurt you characters.

yet for the first time in my life i've become so attached that i just couldn't do it.

the tongue in a box scene was something that caused me a lot of turmoil. in the original cut it was elaine's tongue, but i talked to my friend catie about it and we agreed that cutting off a lesbians tongue is fucked up. then i considered actually cutting off din's tongue, i thought that that would make for something really interesting with the big reveal if he couldn't talk to her but it just seemed too brutal? i couldn't really wrap my head around it so i eventually just made it someone elses tongue.

my replacement for that was din's leg, that was something that sort of came on at the last second, i gave him the limp as foreshadowing and then said fuck it, lets take the whole thing.

dress maker

the scene in chapter 4 where din walks in on her in the bath was originally a much longer sequence where a modiste visited the castle and there was a lot of stuff around making new dresses for her and din was going to walk in while she was getting changed.

eventually i scrapped the entire concept and gave elaine the seamstress trait instead.

multiple parties & balls (masquerade)

i briefly mentioned this in the q&a but in the original bks outline there were a lot more parties and big scenes like that. i realized pretty quickly that balls and parties are a visual medium. the reason why i like those scenes so much in other things is because they're so visually appealing which is harder to do when writing. there was going to be a readers birthday ball, a few other parties or wedding for kodos siblings etc but it always felt like filler.

the masquerade was my dream sequence that just never really fir naturally fit with the story so i eventually had to let it go.

no breakup/rules storyline

there was no break up in the original bks story board. instead, everything after chapter 7 was gonna be based around breaking each and every rule.

each chapter following would have been dedicated to breaking a few of the rules up until the last one that would have been; no falling in love, stop when i say to stop, and no kissing would have all been one big climax chapter. it would have been very little women in the 'we have got to have it out jo' sort of sense where she begs him to stop talking but he just keeps confessing.

eventually i realized that a rule or two break every chapter wasn't very sustainable. it was a fun idea and it might work in a different setting but bks at its core is supposed to be an overly dramatic period piece and there just wasn't enough conflict with that so instead i went with the breakup.

alternative ending

i had a similar ending for quite some time and one day i was listening to music and thinking about bks and realized that she loved naboo. originally they fled after kodo was killed. they built a cabin somewhere far away etc. etc.

but the character seemed to make more sense as someone who would want to do right by the people she had grown to love within the kingdom so i decided to make it a sort of thing where she disassembled the monarchy.

(there was also an ending where she faked her own death, framed kodo, and he was ripped apart by the citizens of naboo)

and of course i briefly considered genuinely killing din and having her raise the baby on her own. but the idea made me so truly upset that i just couldnt do it.

hoth story line

not much to say here other that there was going to be a thing where she went back to hoth to visit her family accompanied by the mandalorian. another thing that was fun as a concept but ended up feeling like filler so i dropped it.

elaine plot twist

another case of me really loving elaine and being conflicted about her character.

originally elaine was going to tell kodo about their relationship. it was going to be a situation where kodo suspected something and threatened lysa forcing elaine to take action but eventually i decided to use my backup which was leo since there had been foreshadowing for that anyway

neutral kodo

for quite a while i planned for kodo to be just a bad husband and not a villain. but i needed more conflict and i needed a driving force and he was easy to mold into that.

there was an alternate storyline where he fell in love with the reader and “killed” din out of jealousy