#she doomed him to a life of hell and he spent so long thinking it meant something

[the-diabolic-acid]

everyday i think about the lost angst potential of rose finding out what she did to jack and i punch a wall

[kasagia]

Right hand

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You were his right-hand (wo)man after he saw you in combat during your training on the Bene Gesserit. He freed you from them and turned you from a Bene Gesserit into a faithful soldier who took care of all his dirty business. Getting rid of the bodies of the people he killed, organising opponents for him to fight, poor people on whom he could vent his anger and desire for bloodshed, or even concubines. You were his eyes and ears in the baron's court. You reported everything to him, being more effective than any Bene Gesserit. But he wants more... much more. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; fight; brutality; smut; bathing together; dagger play; breeding kink? I guess; a lot things happening; my first time for Feyd so I'm a little nervous😅; enjoy!; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART II ~•♤♤♤•~

It wasn't your choice to undergo Bene Gesserit training. Your mother abandoned you when you were a little baby and took you to these terrible women, leaving you to their mercy.

You hated them. Their entire organisation, which included planned breeding, aimed at creating the Kwisatz Haderach. To you, these women were a sick cult that you were reluctant to be a part of. You trembled with fear, thinking of the day when they would send you to extend the genetic line of a nobel family by lending your womb or to ensure that their plans succeeded.

However, you realised that you had little say in the matter. The Bene Gesserit would find you anywhere if you tried to run and hide. You were doomed to follow the orders of your crazy old reverend mother and wait in fear for the day when you could prove your usefulness.

But one day, you crossed paths with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. And for a very long time, you considered it a real gift from fate. The first happy turn of events in your tragic life.

He was on a diplomatic mission. He was being shown around by the princess of your planet, and they happened to be attending the training of the Bene Gesserit sisters. You immediately caught his attention. Your movements were smoother, full of the passion of a true warrior. You charmed him so much that, at first, he thought you had put a spell on him. After seeing your potential and your obvious dislike for your sisters, he took you with him to Giedi Prime.

He faked your death so the Bene Gesserit sisters wouldn't come looking for you. He made you his right hand, his most trusted soldier. It was only after years of service under the Na-Baron that you realised that you had entered a much worse hell than any plans the Bene Gesserit had for you.

Feyd Rautha was supposed to be your personal devil. But first, you saw him as your saviour.

An animalistic, bloodthirsty scream resounds throughout the na-baron's private training room as his 'toy' falls dead under the blow she received from the furious man. You enter the room just as Feyd pierces him with his sword, causing drops of blood to land on your face.

You wipe them away, undeterred by the na-baron's brutality. Years of service had accustomed you to all the acts of cruelty he was capable of. At least this time, the dead man's entrails didn't spill around him. You hated calling his harpies to the feast. Despite so many years spent at the side of the baron's favourite nephew, you never got used to his concubines. They made you feel strangely uneasy.

"My lord, na-baron." You say, announcing your presence. Feyd breathes heavily and shifts his mad, furious gaze to you, not noticing your entrance until you speak.

You walk past the body, avoiding the pool of blood, and hand him a towel. He takes it from you without a word, wiping the sweat and blood from his head, chest, and back. You ignore his exposed muscles and kneel next to the man on whom he took out his anger, preparing to carry him out of the room before the next opponent/toy shows up.

"You were right. That old fool entrusted Arrakis to my brother. He will embarrass our family in one day. Ha! Even half is enough for him! This wretch doesn't know how to manage a small province, let alone an entire planet with fremen ready to attack at any corner." He says, rubbing himself furiously. He throws a towel into the corner of the room and walks to the table to pour himself something to drink.

"He gives him a chance to prove himself. When he wastes it, you will get it and prove to the baron and the lords that you are rightfully entitled to the title of baron." You say, securing the body so the guards at the door can carry it out.

"Every fool knows that. It's obvious that I'm a better choice than this scoundrel, who will sell the secrets of our family and swear allegiance to anyone who threatens his life. Baron throws a party in his honor. To the success of his mission. He's just doing it to piss me off. He doesn't give a damn about Rabban or whether he succeeds. This is just another of his tests on me. That's why you're coming with me. I've already sent for a dress for you." You look up at him with your surprised gaze. You're even more shocked when he reaches out his hand to help you up—something you didn't expect from him in his white, burning rage state.

"A dress?" You ask, taking his hand. You hold your breath, keeping yourself from gasping, as he lifts you off the floor with one strong pull. Unprepared, you bump completely onto his chest, not being able to keep your balance.

You freeze at the feeling of his muscled body close to yours. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest from the adrenaline he felt while killing this poor man. You tense up, seeing his icy-blue eyes already staring at yours. He starts giggling darkly as he presses you tighter against him so you can feel every muscle of his.

"Is there a problem? Would you prefer to come naked? I wouldn't mind, but…”

"I'm simply surprised that you want me there officially. I usually sneak there. I watch from the shadows. Well, you know." You interrupt me before he can insinuate anything, and with his silent permission, you move a decent distance away from him, leaving his arms.

You always had to be careful when making moves like this. You saw how he punished for minor offences, just for breathing. And you didn't run away from the Bene Gesserit with him to lose your life because of one of his… impulses. Although he has never put you in any serious danger, which was strangly amazing, since all of the servants who worked for him (and are still alive) have experienced his wrath on their bodies at least once.

"I know. But this time, I need you by my side. Not in hiding. My birthday is coming up—the most important of them all. I want to know what my uncle will come up with. Maybe you can find out something from the Lords. Besides, why wouldn't I want to have such beauty on my arm?"

"You want a woman by your side so you can humiliate your brother before he leaves? Perpetuate in him a sense of belief that you are superior, even if you don't have power over Arrakis right now?"

You see his hands tighten on his blades. You purse your lips, realising you were too quick to question his intentions. Basic mistake. You shouldn't have tested the waters when you knew Feyd was already on the end of his patience.

He takes a step towards you, entering your personal space. You swallow and lift your head to meet his gaze. This wasn't the first time he had intimidated you, tested you, carefully gauged your reaction, and waited until he finally saw the fear in your eyes. But you never gave him that satisfaction. If the Bene Gesserit taught you anything, it was that fear was weakness. A weakness you could tame... at least enough not to show it to anyone else.

So you endure his piercing, burning gaze with indifference. You stay like that even after a small smirk starts to appear on his face. You wonder how many people before you saw that smirk and stared into those night-black eyes on Giedi Prime as they passed from this world.

"That pink little tongue of yours will get you into trouble one day, my little witch." He purrs, his tone low and dangerous. He reaches up to your face with his free hand and gently runs his hand through your hair, caressing your cheek and jaw with the pad of his thumb. "Possible. I'm a na-baron... don't I deserve the best?" He looks defiantly at you, throwing you the proverbial gauntlet. He's waiting for you to stumble. For open defiance of his order.

You don't understand why, but he's been acting like this more and more lately. He made ambiguous comments, carefully watching your reaction. It was something new—a change in his behaviour that you hadn't figured out the reason for yet. But you had too much on your mind to think about it any longer.

"I can prepare you a beautiful concubine perfect for Giedi Prime standards." You suggest at which he shakes his head, laughing hoarsely. He turns his back to you and pours himself another glass of water.

"It's not necessary. I want you. Go and get ready. I'll join you in two hours when I'm done here." He says just as the door opens to reveal the soldiers you called for to take the body away and who have brought him a new drugged opponent. Feyd licks his lips, flips the blade up, and catches it, making a little show before lunging at his toy.

"As you wish, my na-baron." You say before leaving him to get ready for the party. Another warrior's scream echoes off the walls of the chamber as Feyd unleashes his anger on him.

You scan the room carefully, standing with your glass against the wall in a more crowded part of the room. You try your best to blend in with the crowd, but with your hair down, it's not that easy. Even if you try to cover your hair, you can feel people's curious gazes on you. But the worst ones are the burning gazes of the lords on you, some of them too lustful to be able to feel comfortable.

If you could, you would hide in the shadows, as usual, and observe them without being the centre of attention. You felt like a monkey in a circus or an exotic animal at an exhibition. The cold hand on your shoulder reminds you why you can't do this. You turn around to once again meet the na-baron's intense gaze today.

"You look good." He says as his eyes carefully scan the black latex dress with cutouts on the sides that reach down to your hipbones. "But I don't remember having that metal corset disguised as armour and that ridiculous chain veil sent to you along with the dress."

"I almost mistook this rag for a nightgown. I had to wear something on it. They think I'm your whore anyway; we don't have to prove it to them." You respond to his taunt and turn towards him. He is wearing black, formal armour, which is perfect as an official outfit.

"Do you find it scandalous to be my whore, little witch? Maybe even disgusting?" You meet his gaze to roll your eyes at him, at which he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don't like this closeness, but there's nothing you can do to push his hand off of you. You are in public. Such a gesture towards him would be equivalent to a death sentence.

"I see nothing... honourable or good in being anyone's whore, my na-baron." You say, gently moving away from him so as not to lean on him as much.

"Have you seen anything noteworthy?" He asks, unfazed by your trying to move away from him. He pulls you up, wrapping his arms around your waist tighter and making your back rest against his chest. His fingertips brush against the exposed skin, caressing your hipbone.

You frown, turning your head to look at him. He's never been so... clingy before. He always respected your personal space and never touched you. You blame it on his desire to tease his brother, who is staring at you intently from across the room, and you shift your gaze to the people present at the party.

"Several lords congratulated your brother. However, there are rumours and beliefs that he will not be up to the task. Some also believe that you will slit his throat before his ship leaves for Arrakis."

"This idea crossed my mind. If you hadn't brought this information to me earlier, you would probably have had to deal with making the public believe in his… tragic and sudden death from natural causes."

"Natural causes; I wish I could see that." You scoff, finishing your drink. You turn around, leaving his arms, and set your glass down on the table. When you turn to him again, he holds out his hand for you to take.

"You'll see if you don't entertain me. I'm bored, and looking at this smug idiot isn't helping my patience or my ability to restrain myself. Dance with me, my little witch."

"You're interrupting my work." You complain, taking his hand. He leads you to the dance floor and spins you around, pulling you tight against his chest. He holds you close to him, perfectly placing his steps and moving to the beat of the music. He is as fluid in dancing as he is in fighting. Flawless as always.

"I'm your work. You are my right hand; you meet all my needs. I don't think I need to remind you of that, do I?" He asks in challenge, taking your chin between his two fingers as he looks at you carefully. You only smile at him in a sweet, artificial way. He laughs, fully aware of how fake this act is, and drops your chin.

Over the years, you discovered that he liked it when you teased him and responded to his taunts with your own. Of course, only when no one could hear it, and not very often. He had a reputation to uphold. He couldn't afford for anyone to see his right-hand (wo)man mocking him. Unbeknownst to you, he found it adorable the way your eyes lit up whenever you did something mischievous.

"Of course not, my na-baron."

"Good." He nods at your words. He takes his eyes off you for a moment and focuses on something behind your shoulder. He leans down, his cheek brushing against yours. You shiver at the sudden closeness, his scent becoming more distinct as you inhale it wholeheartedly. It's captivating. Sweet. Intoxicating. Dangerous. Just like him. "Do you have your daggers?" His hot whisper reaches your ear. He's so close, you can almost feel his full lips brush against your earlobe.

"Yes, why?" You ask, perfectly masking the tremble in your voice. But you doubt whether you can hide from him how your heartbeat speeds up. You blame it on the adrenaline rush. Not fear caused by his proximity.

"It seems to me that you will soon have to prove to these imbeciles once again why I chose you to be my right-hand man." He explains as the song ends.

You feel him reluctantly release you from his embrace and take a step away from you. You turn around and see his brother walking towards you, his right hand following him, giving you a mischievous look and a lecherous, mocking smile when he sees your outfit. You straighten up, lifting your head proudly at the man in a similar position to yours. The difference between you was that you served the stronger Harkonnen. It would give you an inviolably higher position if, like them, you had a penis between your legs.

"Brother. You finally brought your pet to play with us." Rabban says, nodding to his brother. You feel a wave of disgust as his gaze lingers on you longer.

Feyd tenses, furious, as his brother's eyes are all on you. You wouldn't have noticed if his hand hadn't been on your hip bone a moment later, hiding some of your exposed skin from his brother's eyes. You wonder what his problem might be. After all, he chose this dress for you by himself.

"Be careful. She doesn't have a muzzle. I would prefer that no harm come to you before you go to Arrakis. She's got some pretty... sharp teeth." He says it condescendingly, pulling you closer to him. In a perfect world, you'd kick them both in the groin. Unfortunately, you don't have that luxury. You can only imagine putting these two pseudo-alpha males in their place. But how sweet these dreams are...

"What about a small competition? My man against yours? Let's see what this mysterious beauty that you keep hidden can really do." Rabban's right-hand man gives you a cocky, confident look. He plays with the dagger in his hand, making a poor show that was intended to intimidate you. You roll your eyes behind your metal chain veil and shift your gaze to Feyd. You are only subject to his orders. Not some weak, pathetic creatures.

"This party is already dead. Do you want to kill also YOUR pet?" Feyd mocks him, and you almost break your unflappable, emotionless attitude, barely holding back your laughter. Na-baron sees this and smiles to himself, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your hipbone.

"Are you afraid that she won't heat your bed anymore?" Feyd narrows his eyes at him. You feel his fingertips dig painfully into your hip as he tries to keep himself from lunging at his brother with the blade. You know full well that the eyes of the lords, the baron, and most of the people at the party are turned towards you.

"I have no doubt whatsoever about the outcome of this little skirmish. She will just sweat unnecessarily. And I would rather have her in full strength tonight." He says it in a mocking tone, shifting his gaze towards you. He licks his lips and tightens his grip to make his lewd intentions towards you clear to the two men.

Despite his famous reputation, he never touched you. Giedi Prime society might have thought otherwise, but in the years you had served as his right-hand man, he had never once taken you to bed or had you entertain him at night. You appreciated it immensely, which is why you accepted such behaviour from him without batting an eyelid whenever you were in public. It was all a game to maintain the reputation he had built over the years. Or so you thought.

"Feyd, boy, release your pet. Let her entertain us." The baron's words interrupt any skirmish that might have developed between the brothers.

It was not uncommon at Giedi Prime parties for soldiers to fight against each other to entertain the crowd. You just didn't think that you would have to fight someone during your first official arrival at the party. Although you should have anticipated such an unexpected turn of events. The baron and Rabban would not miss the opportunity to find out how much you were really worth and why Feyd, out of all the talented soldiers, chose the Bene Gesserit as his right-hand man.

You send a quick glance at Feyd. He gives you a small nod, so you bow to the baron and prepare to fight. The crowd around you parts to form a circle. You feel people's excitement as you flip the metal chains from your face to your hair, revealing more of your face. You wrap the shawl around your hair, tying it tighter and making sure it won't get in the way of your fight.

You look at your opponent, who is also preparing, trying to spot any of his weak points before the fight even begins. Rabban says something in his ear, which causes the manly smile to grow. Feyd stands in front of you, blocking your view of them. You look into his steel blue eyes as he leans towards you.

"Don't hold back." He whispers in your ear, handing you his blade. "And finish it quickly. We have other things to do."

You nod at him. He walks away from you, sending a mocking smirk at your opponent. He spreads his arms, taking a few steps back, as if inviting him to try his hand at you. You feel the burning gaze of his eyes on your back as you position yourself in front of the man.

"Don't worry, witch. If I win, I won't kill you. It's a shame to waste such a pretty face. I wonder if you're as good as the rumours say. Your pussy must be good to keep the na-baron entertained for so long." He says, waiting for you to activate your shield. But you don't do this. You want to completely humiliate him and give everyone in the room a clear message about your power and that you didn't secure your place just by having a pretty face. The crowd cheers, but you think you can hear Feyd growl furiously amidst the shouts of approval.

"I doubt you'll have the chance to find out." You say, and without waiting for his next words, you attack.

After the first few attacks, you figure out his tactics. He is physically strong, it's true, but that's his only advantage. It attacks you in a learned way, repeating its patterns. You read him quickly and position yourself to use his strength and mass against him. You could have walked up to him a long time ago and slit his throat, but you know it would be much better if you had some fun with him. You will show that you have complete control over the course of this fight.

You dodge the man's punches, and after a few minutes, you quickly get bored when you once again manage to kick him and send him to his knees. You take advantage of the moment he gets up from the floor to glance at your na-baron. Feyd doesn't look happy with your introduction. Of course, you see his interested look and how he appreciates your skills, but he doesn't look at you like he usually does. He doesn't wait with bated breath for your next move, like the crowd around you does. You can tell from his face that he wants you to finish this as soon as possible. You frown, surprised that he of all people doesn't enjoy watching the fight. You wonder what the hell is wrong with him.

Your moment of inattention is, of course, immediately exploited by your opponent. You manage to fend off the man's blade, but not his kick, which sends you landing on your butt on the floor. You feel rage more than pain; you only see red when you hear the cocky laugh of the man you are fighting with. You're so focused on driving the blade into his body that you don't notice Feyd's angry look, the murder in his eyes, and the desire to rip your opponent apart with his own hands as you fall to the floor. And you certainly don't see the trembling of his hand, as he instinctively wanted to grab you and pull you safely behind him.

You strike once, quickly driving the blade into the man's stomach and leaving it there. You push him to his knees, push away the hand that holds the sword, and reach for the dagger hidden in the sleeve of your dress. You strike a second time, piercing his shoulder. You stick the second dagger into his hand and knock the weapon out of his hand, taking it from him. You grab the man's throat in a tight grip and tilt his head back. You lean over him, a mocking smirk on your face as he struggles to breathe.

"I didn't even take off my high heels." You mocked him as you slit his throat.

You smile victoriously as you decapitate him. His head rolls at your feet, blood splattering your dress and face as you breathe heavily. You sigh, feeling your heart pound in your chest, as you bow to the crowd surrounding you as they shout and applaud you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Rabban's sour, angry expression. You kick the head of his right hand towards him and give him a small smirk. You stand upright as you meet the eyes of your na-baron.

And then you saw it. Hunger in his eyes. Pure lust and desire, as his pupils were wide and solemnly focused on you.

You knew that gaze. He only looked like that at things he really wanted. Only his favourite concubines got THAT look from him or a beautiful, precisely made weapon that fit perfectly in his hands. Usually he had that look in his eyes right after the great battle he won. He would lock himself with his concubines and then spend long hours in his chambers, giving himself completely to his primal instincts.

You shiver as he walks towards you, ignoring anything else in the room. He grabs you tightly by the throat, and, to the delight of the drunken crowd who are screaming madly with excitement after the show you had made, he kisses you.

It is hard, hungry, and passionate. His hand completely removes the metal chains and shawl that were covering your head, and he pulls you to him as close as possible. His grip on your hair and throat is tight as he demands that your mouth be opened for him by biting your lower lip. You moan involuntarily, causing his tongue to slip into your mouth, as he is exploring new territory with a zeal you've never seen from him.

He pulls away from you when you're completely out of breath. Your vision is blurry, your heart is pounding from the adrenaline of the fight, and you can only stare at him stupidly and blankly while trying to understand what just happened.

Your eyes widen as he licks his lips, lust still burning in his eyes as he takes in your panting form and swollen, red lips. A trickle of blood drips from your mouth after he bit into it a few minutes ago. As you taste your blood on your tongue, you realise the terrifying truth.

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen desired you.

Feyd strokes your neck, which is still in his tight grip. His eyes travel from your lips to your neck, to your collarbones, to the valley of your breasts, and to your hips, which were starting to bruise from how tightly he held them in the moments before your fight. Suddenly, everything starts to fall into place for you. His strange, unusual behaviour, the flirtatious comments, the long stares, and his more frequent attempts to hold you close to him and touch your exposed skin are starting to make sense.

You were screwed.

Completely and utterly fucked up.

You've been avoiding him since that night. More than any Reverend Mother or Bene Gesserit. Which was a very difficult task, considering how many things you had to do as his right hand.

But, luckily, you managed to avoid being alone with him. Of course, it couldn't last long. You knew him very well, and you knew that eventually he would try something and come for you. But you tried to deceive yourself by living the lie that his desire would pass and his concubines would effectively take care of him.

If he noticed your attempts to stay away from him, he never mentioned it. Of course, he chased after you when he saw you walking alone down the hall, but you never gave him a chance to catch up with you. He may have grown up here, but you knew the palace like the back of your hand. And all the nooks and crannies you could hide in from him.

So you actually managed not to get close to him for a very long time. Until it was time to train a unit of soldiers directly subordinate to him.

"Y/N!!!" You're sure all of Giedi Prime could have heard his scream. You sigh, calming down as you continue your walk to the arena. You step out into the black sun, carefully watching the men training. You walk up to him and bow to him.

"My lord na-baron." You say it politely, unfazed by the fact that he's practically seething with rage. You were more used to dealing with him like this than when he was horny... or worse, kind. You would turn on your shield if you knew it wouldn't make him fall over the edge and start murdering everyone he could.

"Take your blade. None of these piles of useless muscles know basic defensive moves. Look, you all! You have to learn this by the end of the day, or next time you will enter this arena as my opponent!" He walks over to one of them, probably to either stab him or adjust his position, leaving you to get ready. You tie your hair up so it doesn't bother you during a fight and choose your blade.

You gasp in surprise when you are suddenly pushed. You turn around quickly, trying to keep your balance as you face the na-baron. You move your hand to activate your shield, but his voice stops you:

"Don't. I have to show them how to do it. No shield." You know he's lying, and that's not why he doesn't want you to turn on your shield, but you don't say anything. You just nod and prepare to get into a defensive position.

He attacks you quickly. Very quickly. You've trained with him before, and you have to admit, he's never been this… brutal with you.

You go through different positions with him until you finally stop following the textbook fighting patterns and start fighting seriously. You keep up with his movements for a long time, blocking his blade with yours and dodging attacks that you have no physical ability to block, but he keeps pressing against you, not letting you rest or trying to return the favour with one of your attacks.

You gasp in surprise when he trips you, sending you to the ground. You block his swing at you with your blade and kneel in the sand, trying to get up, but he's pressing too hard against you with his sword for you to move. You use all your strength to push him away from you. Feyd growls, throwing his sword aside, and simply lunges at you. You're too shocked to do anything as he snatches the blade from your hand and sits on top of you.

You fight him, sending both of you rolling in the sand. Eventually, he gets impatient and wraps his hand around your throat. You take a hoarse breath as he blocks your airway. You grab his hand around your neck and try to pull it away. You dig your nails into his palm, but he remains unmoved, pinning you to the sand.

He leans closer to you, and you take the opportunity to wrap your hand around his neck. He laughs, showing you his black teeth as he practically lays on top of you. His erection presses hard against your thigh as he grinds against you, grunting as he too begins to feel the need for air... and something more. You see black spots in front of your eyes, and you feel tears welling up in your eyes as you struggle to breathe.

You let go of his neck completely, your hand falling next to your head, and you desperately try to use the remaining air to try and use your Bene Gesserit voice on him. But before you try to say anything, he loosens his grip so you can breathe, but his fingers are still lightly holding your neck.

Too busy breathing, you don't notice how he tilts his face towards you. Only when you feel his tongue on your neck do you realise how close he is to you. You freeze when he runs his tongue from your neck, from jaw to cheek, to taste your tears. You hear him moan softly. To confirm that your brain, stunned by lack of oxygen, didn't make it all up on its own, he rubs against you, and his hardness in his pants is clearly felt by you.

You just fucking hope he doesn't fuck you in front of those soldiers.

You meet his black eyes with yours. You shiver as he leans in, his bare chest pressed completely against you as he whispers into your ear.

"Damn you, witch... if you taste as sweet as your tears..." He growls. You feel dizzy, and you're not sure if it's because of the heat of the moment, the fact that he cut you off from oxygen for a while, or because you're overwhelmed by his scent and the warmth that radiates from the two of you.

You thank whoever is above you as he finally pulls away from you and stands up. He gives you his hand and helps you stand on your two feet. The soldiers obediently look at the ground, not daring to face the na-baron's gaze. You swallow hard, pulling your hand from his grasp.

Feyd barks orders at them, herding them back to training. You breathe a sigh of relief when he stops paying attention to you. You use your shawl to wipe his saliva and your sweat from your neck. You take your blade and are about to leave the arena to do the rest of your duties. But a tight grip on your wrist stops you. You tense up and turn around to face him again.

"Y/N." He murmurs, watching you carefully. You're sure that bruises are starting to appear on your neck from his tight squeeze. "Come to my chambers tonight." A cold shiver runs through you, but all you can do is nod and watch his retreating figure as he leaves to continue the training.

You hoped he didn't mean what you thought he meant by that... invitation. Otherwise, this could be your last night on Giedi Prime or the last night of your life. You're not sure yet.

For the first time, you feel fear as you walk to his chambers. He had called for you at such times before, but it never occurred to you that he wanted to do with you something else than discuss with you matters that were related to the Giedi Prime Court, the baron's plans, or other political matters and plots.

You shudder, wondering what might be waiting behind that door. You saw the condition in which some of his concubines left him. You didn't want to become one of them; you didn't want to be reduced to being his lover. It was fine as it was. You felt very good as his shadow, ears, and eyes. You liked conspiring together with him, making plans, and that hrill each time you managed to take down the enemies that were standing in your way. He was supposed to be your savior, not your persecutor. Were you that naive from the beginning, or has everything started going to shit recently?

The guards let you through without saying a word. With your heart pounding, you enter his chambers.

He's sitting on the bed. His harpies finish taking off his clothes, and at first you want to back away, but as soon as his gaze meets yours, you freeze. Feyd snaps at one of them. She hands him a glass of his wine while the others look at you furiously.

"Leave." He tells them, never taking his eyes off you. The women look at each other, not wanting to leave him, especially leave him alone with you. You guess that if it weren't for Feyd's presence, they would have attacked you long ago, trying to eat you before their master got a chance to touch you. Disgust arouses in you as you think that you may be soon reduced to their role and turned into one of them. "I said something." He growls at them, shifting his gaze from you to give them an angry glare.

The harpies are going out obediently, but they are not wasting an opportunity to hiss at you as they pass you to get to the exit. You hear one of them scream in pain as Feyd suddenly throws a knife at them right before they close the door behind them.

You were more used to his brutal reflexes than to his tender gestures. You actually preferred him being aggressive more. At least you could have predicted his movement. That's why you didn't even blink when he threw a blade at his pets.

"You wanted to see me." You start when you are alone. If you could impress him with anything other than your fighting skills and the ability to obtain various information by staying in the shadows, it would be that you never showed fear or insecurity. At least not to those who don't know you. Almost no one could read you. Almost.

However, Feyd saw that you were behaving differently. But he was tired of controlling himself around you. He couldn't do it anymore after tasting your lips, tasting your skin mixed with tears, and feeling your curves press against him. He wanted more. Much more than he ever got from you. And he was going to take it, whether you wanted it or not. He won't go crazy with lust for you... or at least not with as much longing for you each night as he used to.

"I did..." He stands up, and you're grateful he's at least wearing underwear as he walks over to his bar and pours a second glass of wine. He hands it to you and taps it with his own. He takes a few sips and looks at you. After a while, he sits down on his bed again and swirls his glass, playing with the remains of the wine. "Baron wants me to find a wife." He announces calmly, staring at you intently as he finishes his wine with one big sip.

You almost choke on your drink. You place your glass on the table and meet the careful gaze of his cold, blue eyes. You feel yourself starting to get hot with nerves.

"I beg you pardon?" You ask, still reeling from the shock of this sudden information.

"He wants me to find a broodmare who will bear my heirs since I am getting close to the appropriate age." He repeats, standing up gracefully. He approaches you, his steps slow and measured, as if he were approaching his prey in an arena. And for a moment, that's exactly how you feel. But you show no fear or any other emotion as he stops a few inches in front of you. You straighten up, your muscles tensing as you think about any answer.

"I… I can make the necessary preparations and check which high families…"

"Strip." He orders you. His tone is hoarse, leaving no room for any objection. He talks just as if he were asking you to pass him the dagger rather than to stand naked in front of him. As if it was an order he carried out every day and something you should be used to following.

"What?" You ask stupidly, unable to process what he said to you in your head.

"Have you gone deaf? Undress. Take your clothes off." He repeats mockingly. He crosses his arms, takes a few steps back, and leans against the wooden post of his bed as he watches you carefully, waiting for you to either obey his order or openly disobey him, giving him the opportunity to punish you... as if he even needed a reason to do so.

"My na-baron, I..."

"Exactly, Y/N. I am your na-baron. So follow my order. Now. I'm not in the mood for our games. You think I haven't noticed you've been playing hide-and-seek lately? I have given much worse punishments for such disobedience and attempts at self-indulgence. Take your clothes off, or I'll rip them from you."

For a moment, there is a deathly silence in his chambers. Only your breathing can be heard as you try to find any way out of this situation. But you can't think of anything. Your mind is empty, your hands are shaking a little, and all you can do is look at him, silently begging him to change his mind. A frown of impatience appears on his forehead, and you know you have to do something before he gets irritated and cuts you with one of his blades.

You sigh softly as you reach for the laces of your shirt. You take your time, slowly untying your bindings. Feyd devours every bit of skin you expose to him, and you swear you hear him hold his breath as your shirt lands on the floor. You get out of your shoes and socks very slowly.

Luckily, he doesn't comment on it and lets you get out of his clothes at your own pace. He knows he will win anyway. Tonight, he will finally stop playing cat and mouse with you and put his hands on what is rightfully his. So he savours every moment, making a plan in his head for what he will do to you tonight for this small act of rebellion.

He licks his lips as you stand in front of him in nothing but black underwear. His eyes take in your every curve, skin lesions, and scars that mark your warrior body. Oh yes. He was going to enjoy this night and finally unwrap his early birthday present.

"Good girl. You know where the bathroom is, right?" Without waiting for your response, he goes there, expecting you to follow him.

You swallow hard. You're glad that at least you managed to stay in your underwear and that you're not completely naked in front of him. You get out of your pile of clothes and leisurely follow him to the bathroom.

As soon as you enter, the door closes itself behind you. You sigh, the sweet smell of bath salts reaching your nostrils. But you don't feel so relaxed when the coolness of the bathroom and the black marble you stand barefoot on make you shiver and your nipples harden.

The na-baron's dark chuckle catches your attention. He's in a large, black bathtub, his hands resting on its edges as he enjoys the warm water, watching you closely, a spark of amusement shining in his icy blue eyes. He looks like a vulture waiting for the best moment to kill his prey.

"It had been a long day. Join me." He says, lifting his hand for you to take and step into the tub.

Having no choice, you obediently reach for his hand and release it as quickly as you can, sitting on the other side of the bathtub with your legs tucked under you so as not to accidentally touch him. He laughs, shaking his head in amusement.

"Not so far, my little mouse. Closer. I won't bite… well, not yet."

"I'm not a mouse." You snap at him. If you're going to die, at least die with dignity. Blinded by your anger at him, you sit on his lap before you can think it through. It's only his hardness pressing against your ass that makes you realize what a mistake you've made. You don't show your discomfort, though; you even lean against his chest, letting your head rest on his shoulder.

He laughs softly, wrapping his arms around you just as the skin of your back meets his chest. You feel like you're in a cage, even though he's trying to calm you down by lazily drawing patterns on the skin of your arms. Your underwear soaks up the water and sticks to you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hand me my dagger."

You much prefer receiving such orders from him. You get up from the bathtub to get away from him for a moment, but he stops you by grabbing your hips tightly. He shakes his head and nods towards the dagger, which is literally at his fingertips. You bite your lip, keeping yourself from talking back at him, and reach for the weapon, handing it to him. You do this carefully, not wanting to cut the skin of your fingertips with the very sharp blade.

He cuts through the fabric of your bra with surgical grace. You gasp in outrage but don't move, knowing full well that you are only millimetres away from him taking your blood. You don't have to turn around to know he's smiling cockily as he traces the tip of his dagger across your skin to your panties.

"You know I can take it off by myself?" You ask as he traces patterns with the tip of his dagger on your stomach, around your navel. You hold your breath as he rests his chin on your shoulder and pulls you closer to him, rubbing against your still-clothed ass. You learn the hard way that the rumours about his... greatness were true.

"You had your chance at the beginning, now it's my turn. You're lucky that I'm not taking it off of you with my teeth anyway." He growls in your ear. You shiver as he presses a wet kiss on your shoulder, peppering kisses on your skin, down to your neck, and down to your jawbone before he rests his chin on your shoulder again.

"Sorry for interrupting your fun, my na-baron." You growl as he hooks the tip of his dagger against the fabric of your panties.

"No worries; you will compensate me in another way." He says, cutting your panties. He throws them behind him and lazily presses the dagger against your jawbone, forcing you to turn your head to look at him.

You meet his blue eyes with yours. His irises are practically non-existent, giving way entirely to his dilated, black pupils. He stares at you hungrily, licking his lips. He looks lost and indecisive, as if he didn't know what to do first.

His other hand, the one not holding the dagger pressed against your neck and jaw, explores your body, caressing your skin as if it were some kind of precious silk. You sigh as he cups your breast, which, of course, fits perfectly in his hand. You want to punch him in the face, but the dagger at your throat reminds you that one wrong move could cost you dearly. So you take his hand in yours instead, stopping him from over-exploring.

"You know... I tried to stay away from you. From the first moment I saw you... fighting with those daggers of yours... you're not as graceful in dancing as you are with them in your hands, taking down all your enemies. But you are Bene Gesserit. I know you're dangerous. So damn dangerous... if I were anyone else, you'd use your voice on me and tell me to castrate myself. Or you could make me magically disappear by throwing myself off some tall tower just because I thwarted your plans or looked at you wrong. Surprised? You may live in the shadows, my little witch, but I won't miss anything you do. You know I have trouble controlling myself... so how can I do that when you're so damn irresistible? The fact that I've endured all these years and not gotten close to you the way I wanted—the way I dreamed so many times at night—is quite a success, don't you think?"

He massages your breast, playing with it. You bite your lip, holding back a moan as he pinches your nipple. He leans closer to you, pressing his nose against your neck and inhaling your scent deeply. He removes his hand from your breast and moves your connected body along your body. You gasp, tightening your grip on his as he brushes your clit gently with his fingertip.

"I… I should go." You mumble, squirming in his grip, which is, of course, pointless and only makes him groan in pleasure as your ass rubs against his hard, leaking member.

"Stay. You won't oppose your na-baron, will you?" The bastard knows well that you won't openly oppose him, and he uses it as best he can. He moves your joined hands to his length, forcing you to wrap your hand around him. He hisses, pressing the blade closer to your throat and tightening his grip on your hand as he guides yours along his length the way he wants. "Your skin is so soft… and that beautiful hair that you needlessly hide… you don't know how many times I imagined pulling you by it." He mumbles into your neck. The hand with the dagger now presses against your chest, only causing your heart to beat much faster. A wave of heat washes over you, your traitorous pussy clenching desperately as you hear his moans in your ear.

"Feyd..." You moan as his hand releases yours and works at your desperate pussy. He growls, feeling the warmth of your walls around his fingers and the wetness he caused. You remove your hand from his member and tighten your grip on his hand, trying to push him away from your private parts in a desperate attempt to regain control of the situation.

"Don't fight. Just give yourself to me, Y/N. Let me show you how much you've lost while trying to hide yourself from me in your shadows…" He growls, pressing the tip of the dagger to your nipple. You freeze, moaning as he becomes stiffened by the sheer movement of his blade.

He bites into your neck, making you moan loudly and throwing your head back. He licks and sucks your neck, rubbing his painfully hard cock against your pussy. The water splashes around you, some of it spilling out of the tub due to his sudden movements. A few inches deeper, and he would have slammed into you, bisecting you with his huge cock, which stood ready for you from the moment he saw you in your underwear.

"Can you feel it? Can you feel what you're doing to me? How hard I am because of you? It's like this every time you hand me my blade, perfectly balanced and sharpened, every time you meet all my needs without even communicating with me, you just know what I want by looking at me, my little witch. So tell me, who is a better partner for me than my right hand? Who can I trust more than you? Who should I fuck, full of my heirs, if not you?"

You don't respond; you can't find any words as your brain desperately tries to shout out the pleasure he's giving you and force you to resist him. Unsuccessfully. The warmth of the water, his body, his scent, and his precise, deliberate movements cut off your thoughts. Feyd is practically salivating at the sight of you so lost in lust and desire as he witnesses you lose control for the first time.

He throws away the dagger, which falls with a crash onto the marble floor. Neither of you care as he grabs your hips and, in one smooth, quick movement, turns you around so you can face him.

You only have time to draw in a quick breath before he demands your mouth. You moan into his lips as he kisses you with the same passion and intensity as he did a few weeks ago at the party after you won the fight. You try to pull away from him, but he holds you tightly, placing his hands on your back as he presses you against him. You don't stand a chance against his strength. You can resist him, but you know it won't be long before you collapse from exhaustion. You bite his lip until you draw blood, which only causes him to groan and have him grind against you, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance.

You gasp as he leaves your lips for a while and pulls your hair, exposing your throat to him so he can mark it even more. He sucks on your skin, littering it with hickeys as you feel him slowly move, positioning himself beneath you so that his member presses against the entrance of your pussy.

And just as he's about to join your bodies, to make you two one, to feel your hot, wet, tight walls around him, there's a knock on the bathroom door.

This time, he's the one who freezes, tightening his hold on you. You feel like he's making sure he hasn't misheard or imagined it in this heated moment between you, but when the knocking sounds a second time, he realises it's real.

You pray with gratitude for the soul of the fool who dared to interrupt him, because you know that even if it were something important, he would not live to see the morning.

"What?!" He growls furiously, not letting you go, not letting you move an inch from him, still believing that he can quickly get rid of the intruder and go back to ravaging you, maybe even fucking you while he talks to whoever is standing in front of that damned door. Though Feyd preferred to be fully focused on you when he took you for the first time. However, he was convinced that if he didn't feel you around him soon, he would go crazy. He is so close... all he had to do was push a little more...

"My lord na-baron. The Baron wants to see you. It's very important."

You see pure rage bubbling in his eyes. He growls, shifting you from his lap as he stands up. You look down as you see all of him very clearly, especially what you were exposed to a few moments ago. He throws a towel at you, and you automatically catch it. He wraps one around his waist before he comes back to you again and grabs your throat. He gives you a crazy, passionate kiss, stroking your neck and appreciating the marks he made before pulling away from you.

"We'll come back to it, little witch." He leaves you with that promise, closing the door behind him with a bang.

You hear him shouting something at his harpies, and you shudder at the thought of having to walk past them to get out of here. You lean back against the tub, still sitting in the now-cold water, as you slowly process everything that happened.

You succeeded this time, but you know you won't be so lucky next time. You could either accept... your new responsibilities and his expectations of you, or you could try to break free from him, risking your life.

It was a decision to be made in the privacy of your own chambers. For now, you let yourself lie in the cool water, fully aware that if you weren't interrupted now, he would fuck you silly, likely planting his seed inside you.

You ran away from the Bene Gesserit with him because you didn't want to be a whore, a vessel for their crazy breeding plan. Apparently, you just changed the owner of your womb. You had to do something if you didn't want to end up as originally intended—as the mother of the future Kwisatz Haderach.

[polkadotpenguin16]

The Five Stages of Grief: Denial

Pairing: Sonny Carisi x female reader

Tags: more angst; language

Word count: 1,871

Previous parts: Prologue

You went from crying on your bathroom floor to your best friend’s kitchen. Floors seemed to be the best place for a mental breakdown. Your friend wasn’t much of a drinker, but she did have a couple boxes of white wine meant for cooking. She said this was a much better use.

It did the trick.

You couldn’t believe you just walked away from Sonny like that. But you felt like you had no other options. You’ve spent far too long in relationships, both romantic and platonic, being someone’s second choice. Waiting for them to choose you. You couldn’t do it again.

“And he just stood there trying to explain why he just HAD to help AMANDA tonight.” You were retelling the night’s events, a little tipsy from the shitty wine. “How could he think that was okay? Spending all night at some other woman’s house?! How can someone be so smart, and so cute, and so…fucking stupid?”

“Probably all that hair gel,” she suggested nonchalantly. “Too thick to let any commonsense in.”

That made you snort through your nose. She was always good at making heavy situations feel lighter.

“I’m really sorry, girlfriend. You deserve better.” She tenderly rubbed your shoulder, trying to soothe your broken heart. “But you know Sonny. He’s a little…thick…but he’s got a big heart. He just wants to help everyone. That’s why you fell in love with him, remember? Sonny the Superman?”

“Whatever.” You took another swig from the box. “It’s probably better this way.”

“Hey, now, you don’t mean that—”

“I DO mean that! I was never good enough for him!” You were getting animated, spilling wine everywhere. “You’re right—he’s Superman. He needs to be with somebody just as super. Someone he can fight crimes with. Or talk about his lawyer-y stuff with who actually understands him. I mean, who knows what the hell he’s talking about? He should come with a translator. And build a perfect life with them. Y’know, the two-and-a-half kids, a dog, and the white picket fence and shit!”

You started crying again. How did you have any tears left? “He deserves the best. And she’s it! Hell, he’s probably been in love with her since they met. Why he settled for a nobody like me in the first place, I’ll never know. I’m no superhero. My power is organizing spreadsheets and tripping over my own feet. He could have Wonder Woman. Why would he want to be stuck with…whoever the fuck Superman’s lame girlfriend is!”

Your friend was quiet, letting you vent and trying to find the right words. “I know it seems that way right now.” She softens her voice, forcing you to listen more intently to hear her. “That this is all doom and gloom. Just give it time. Have some grace. His love is genuine, and he never considered it settling. You’ll work everything out.”

Resting your head against the refrigerator, you sighed. “I don’t think this can be fixed, girl. Maybe…maybe it shouldn’t be.”

She leaned in for a hug, wrapping you tightly in her embrace. You sob into her shoulder, deeply leaning into her for support. You sat silently for a while, the same thought echoing over and over in your mind.

Maybe it’s better this way…

Sonny was brought out of his trance by his alarm buzzing. He hadn’t slept at all. He just kept replaying what happened last night. It was in crystal clear high-definition in his head. How heartbroken you were. How hurt you were.

Then you just disappeared.

He hoped you’d text him when you got to your friend’s place like he asked. For his peace of mind and a sign that you didn’t completely hate him. Anxiously staring at his phone for much longer than he knew it would take you to get there, it felt like his heart was going to erupt from his chest. The list of horrific things that could’ve happened to you was getting too long. Desperate, Sonny texted your friend. He just had to know where you were. It wasn’t until after 2 in the morning that he got a reply.

Yeah she’s here.

Well, at least he knew you were safe. Still uneasy, he dared to ask if you were okay. Deep down, he already knew the answer, and it was reinforced by her response.

You think she’d be here if she was okay? Give her some time. When she’s ready, you better fix this mess you made.

This disconnect was torturing him. He wanted to fix things now. But your friend was right. He resigned himself to waiting until you came back later.

He tries his best to put himself together and heads to the precinct. Dragging his feet, he stumbled into the bullpen.

“You get hit by a bus on the way?” Rollins immediately noticed his haggard appearance. “You look like crap.”

“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered sitting at his desk, head in his hands, trying to collect himself.

“What, your girlfriend kick you out or something?” Fin joked from his seat.

“Actually, she left last night.”

“Wait, really?” Rollins was surprised to hear this. He made the two of you sound like a fairytale love story. You were his favorite topic and would bring you up in every conversation he could. She wondered what could have changed.

Fin glared at him suspiciously. “Whaddya do?”

Sonny took a deep breath. “I, uh, forgot about our date last night, and I, sorta…stood her up.” He was mentally kicking himself for being such a moron. The guilt made his stomach churn and his head throb.

“Dude...” Fin sat back in his chair and leered.

“I know, I know. I was helping Rollins, and I just—I spaced it. She packed a bag and went to stay with her friend.”

“That’s a bit of an overreaction, don’t you think?” Rollins tilted her head back and forth as she weighed out his actions. “But I get why she’d be upset. You should’ve told me you had plans, Carisi.”

Sonny buried his face deeper into his hands, feeling even guiltier.

“Stood her up? She ain’t ever gonna forget that, man,’” Fin remarked, rubbing salt into his wounds.

“But it’s gonna be fine.” Sonny sat up with a newfound determination. “We’ll talk tonight when she gets back. I’ll beg for forgiveness, and it’ll all work out.”

Rollins looked at him skeptically. “You sure about that?”

“Of course, I’m sure!” He huffed, astonished she would even ask. “Couples fight, it’s natural. They kiss, they make up, and things go back to how they were.”

“Most fights don’t include the girl leaving in the middle of the night,” Fin pointed out.

“She just—she needed some time to cool down.” You’ve always been able to resolve your arguments. They’d never been this intense before, but Sonny was confident this was all going to blow over. “She’s gonna come home and we’ll talk. I’m gonna fix this, and this will all have been a horrible dream.”

“If you say so.” Sounding unconvinced, she returned to her laptop.

Luckily, it was a slow day at the station. A rarity as of late. Sonny busted his hump finishing all his paperwork so he could ask Benson if he could head out early.

“Leaving so soon?” Rollins questioned as he put on his coat.

“Gotta run to the store and grab some things for dinner. I want everything to be perfect when she gets back.”

“I’d be picking up some flowers if I were you,” Fin advised as he sipped his coffee.

“That too—the whole nine yards.”

“Well, best of luck to you,” she hollered as he sprinted toward the elevator.

He went to the store and picked up everything to make chicken marsala. It was the first dish he ever cooked for you. He bought extra ingredients so he would have enough leftovers for you to have lunch for work tomorrow.

He swung by the flower stand to pick up a bouquet of sunflowers—your favorites. He planned out his apology in his head on the way back. Thinking of all the ways he messed up and how he would rectify them.

When he got home, he called out to you, but didn’t hear a response. Setting the bags down, he looked around the apartment to see that you weren’t home yet. Concerned, he checked his watch. It was a little early. You were probably still at work. He unpacked the groceries and started preparing dinner.

After washing the produce and still no sign of you, worry started to creep in. He knew you needed some space last night, but surely, you’d come back soon. He was positive you missed him as much as he missed you. So, he decided to send you a text.

Hey doll, what time are you coming home? Getting dinner on the stove and want it to be ready when you get back.

There was no answer. Five minutes turned into ten. He chopped up the mushrooms and garlic and let them sauté in the pan before checking his phone. There was still nothing. He opened a bottle of beer to help settle his nerves. It was half-way gone when he checked again.

Still, nothing.

Not wanting to panic yet, he texted you again.

I’m sorry about last night. I really need to talk to you. I miss you.

Several more minutes passed. He could see the messages labeled as “read” on his phone. You just weren’t responding. Skipping past panic and going into full-blown hysteria, he fumbled with his phone trying to call you. He paced around the kitchen anxiously while listening to the phone ring.

Once. Twice. Three times.

He heard the call pick up after the fourth ring. But he couldn’t hear anyone on the other end. “Doll?” He asked hesitantly, wondering if you had actually answered.

He barely heard a whisper, “…yes…”

“Doll, are you okay?! When are you coming home?” He was frantic, talking a mile a minute. “Please come back! I’m really sorry and have to talk to you—I need to explain. We’ve gotta work this out. Just please—I need you to come home!”

You silently wept while listening to him ramble. You wanted to believe this could all be fixed, but your heart was telling you it would be futile. The cycle would just continue. What would happen the next time someone else needed him? Would you be enough?

“I’m sorry…” You were barely able to get your words out. “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?!” It felt like his whole world was slipping through his fingers. Like water through a sieve. He was unable to stop it or even slow it down. “We have to fix this! Please come home!”

“I love you, but I just…” The line went quiet. He called out your name once, twice, but it was useless.

You were gone.

Sonny had never felt so defeated in his life. Slumping against the counter, he slammed his phone down. His eyes started to feel wet. He stood in the kitchen and quietly cried, taken aback by the fallout of one night. One mistake. One forgotten date.

[thatcoyperson]

// SESSION 9 SECRET LIFE SPOILERS [the ending] AND I MEAN MAJOR ONES

-

I got this idea from what Martyn said during his lore stream the other day and it cured me of my writers block, so I wrote this in a few hours after hearing it

[CW for blood, mentions of death, and I feel like the fact that my friend was saying "it all hurts" for like 30 minutes after reading this counts for something]

• -------- • -------- • -------- •

It’s over Scar. She's dead.

Standing in the ravine, Scar stared blankly at the stone ahead of him as those ghostly words echoed in his mind.

It was over.

He’d won.

Despite everything, he’d won.

A breathy laugh escaped him. It didn't feel like a win. Nothing about this did. It felt hollow and empty, meaningless.

A win was supposed to be a grand show to the world that you can make it to the end, a final showing that it can be done despite everything. One last stand against the world. That's what a win was meant to be.

But this wasn't any of that, not when Scar was stuck frozen in place, the faint rhythmic sound of liquid dripping off the rocks somewhere behind him being the only thing he could hear once the blood rushing to his ears subsided. How was any of this meant to feel like a win, like the grand finale to something that had been the last few months of his life when it was the furthest thing from grand? When he felt the furthest thing from victorious? How was he even meant to feel victorious or grand in a situation like this? He'd spent the whole season alone just trying to make friends, only for him to win by shooting the closest person he has to one of those.

Alone…

He never liked being alone.

How did he win while he was alone?

How did the guy with no friends win?

He laughed to himself, bow still held in one hand, and using the other to push his hair back. A pained smile was painted across his face as he laughed, asking himself how? How did he win? How did he make it this far all alone? How did he manage to tell himself that just one more day, one more day and it would be worth it enough times to where he won? It didn't make sense. Not to him at least.

No matter how long he stood there wondering to himself, there was still one thing that was left to be done. Hit the button.

He had succeeded his task after all, right? Scar had won, despite how meaningless this victory truly was.

All he had to do was hit the button and it would all be over. It would finally end. He could go back to Hermitcraft, his home, his friends. He finally wouldn't be alone anymore.

It didn't quite feel like his own movements when he started to climb out of the ravine, disconnected from everything going on. He desperately ignored the hazy sight of a red shawl to the side of his vision, feeling sick if he put any thought into what he knew was laying under it.

He didn't feel nearly as sick passing by a similar black shawl on the ground up on the surface, orange hair catching his eye for a split second as he slowly made his way across the blood stained grass and battle worn landscape of the world. And, shortly after, he reached the statue that stood in the centre of it all.

The Secret Keeper.

The being that doomed him from the very start. Quietly, he wondered to himself, was it proud? Proud that it's favourite player to mess with - proud that the one it moulded into the unwilling villain - had won? Was it proud of everything it had done, all the pain and suffering it caused? Or did it even think at all. Maybe it was just a simple stone statue, designed to have no will or intention, to have the sole purpose of handing out tasks at random, and Scar was just losing it from being alone for so long. He’d likely never get an answer.

It didn't matter though. Not when he was about to leave, not when he was about to finally be free from this hell he was stuck in, not when he was going to finally be able to see his friends again.

Letting out a shaky breath, Scar reached down and pressed the button.

…

A faint click echoed around the area, and then nothing. Nothing happened. It was just silence. No gust of wind to whisk him away back home, no welcoming voices of the hermits congratulating him on his win as they fade into view. No anything. Just silence. Painfully loud silence. Nothing changed. He was still there. Alone.

“Uhm… haha real- real funny there guys,” Scar chuckled awkwardly, his voice filled with unease. Why was he still here? That should’ve worked. Staring up at the Secret Keeper, he waited for a moment to see if it would react at all.

Nothing.

With a level of anxiety he hadn’t felt before, the button was pressed again, and again nothing happened. The world continued to stand still around him.

The feeling of unease began to grow in Scar’s gut, mixing with fear and making him feel sick all over again. “Aha, ok now thats-” The button was pressed again. Nothing. “-that’s enough this isn’t-” Again. Nothing. “-this isn’t funny anymore- oh god no please.”

Scar’s chest tightened the more he pressed on the button, becoming more and more desperate every press. “No no please just- please just take me home please I can’t do this anymore please.”

Tears began to swell in his eyes, panic truly setting in as he pleaded for an escape. Why wasn’t it working- why wasn’t it doing anything?! Was it broken now that the game was over? Was that why he was stuck- why he couldn’t get this stupid button to work?!

Falling to his knees beside the button, his head hit against the corner of the pedestal it was on. Pain slashed across his forehead at the impact, and he could feel the sickeningly familiar warmth of blood begin to well from the cut.

“PLEASE GOD JUST LET ME GO HOME!” he screamed, hitting the button again and again, his hand becoming sore and bruised the more time went on. The more he begged and pleaded and cried for whatever stupid entity was in control of this game to just let him go.

All he wanted was to go home, to see Jellie, to see his friends, to not be alone anymore. He’d been alone for too long, wasn’t that enough?

Loud cries and desperate pleas slowly turned into quiet sobs, and he brought his hand away from the button, resting them both on the edge of the pedestal beside his head.

“Please…” he sobbed, blood running down into his eyes and mixing with his tears. “Please just let me go.” a moment passed for him to catch his breath. Then, quietly: “I can’t do this anymore, please…”

His pleas went unheard. He was alone.

Alone…

He never liked being alone.

[rainwaterapothecary]

"Unsettled" pt. 4

Serennedy Golden Compass au - [Pt. 1][Pt. 2][Pt.3][Lore overview]

Luis' Arctic Islands Safehouse, 1947.

They made it far enough into Leon’s stay for him to start examining the cabin before the truth came out.

Frankly, Leon and Panza were surprised their chatterbox friend was able to keep his peace for that long.

Although, his verbosity was only matched by his penchant for doom.

The scientist spent a good fifteen minutes pacing the cabin and talking with his daemon through their link, picking up journals or books before putting them back down.

When Leon caught long, tanned fingers beginning to brush over Panza’s bracelet in an anxious tic, he settled in for the full story and pulled the proverbial pin.

“So…what are you doing up here? Not that I’m not ecstatic to see you, I mean, you look amazing and me ‘n Fiorire have missed you like burning, but… The North Pole?”

“It’s all my fault.”

Leon had to tilt his head to hear better.

“What?”

“I said, it’s all my fault! I’m the reason you’re here at all!”

“I’m pretty sure the United States Military is the reason-“

“¡Cállate! How do you think the military got the idea?”

“Plagiarism sounds about right-” The blond raised an eyebrow.

“No! Leon, you don’t understand!” Luis' hands flew to his own curls, clenching them in emotional agony to center himself. Leon raised an eyebrow and settled his free hand on Fiorire’s head.

“I wasn’t there, Leon, but I was- my research was-“

As Luis turned away, the overhead light caught a flash of gray.

Leon knew that fear in Luis’ eyes.

That was the terror of a small child on an abandoned playground who was about to lose everything dear to him.

His stomach swooped and his hand clenched her fur tighter.

“I’m the reason this whole ring of hell exists.” If it wasn’t deathly silent in the small cabin, Leon would have had to strain to hear what his friend had said.

“What are you saying, Lu?” Gooseflesh had spread across Leon’s arms and the back of his neck at the implications of what his friend was confessing. He ached to press his fist into the space in his chest that held her Tether, just to remind himself that nothing was tearing it out of his sinews and crumpling his lungs like-

“It was my research that proved distance could be put between man and daemon without turning it into Dust. I just wanted to help people, keep their daemons safe… I couldn’t fight, no one would let me fight, then the United States Government said they wanted my mind and I knew about the draft and the thought that you- That she-“

His hand twitched first at Leon and then at his wolf. Big, agonized gray eyes turned their full, pleading force on the seated man.

“Could be killed just because a stray bullet hit one of you-! I- I-“

Luis hadn’t looked this small since Leon watched him sail out of his life. The scientist’s breathing stuttered and he held the tiny head of his bird daemon close.

His shoulders sagged and he said his next sentence into the soft, feline fur of Panza’s shoulder.

“It was how Abuelo died and I couldn’t let that happen again. Nunca más.”

“Wait, Abuelo is dead?” Before the sentence was completely out of his mouth, Luis and Panza sagged into his chair.

“Sí- He…he passed a year or so after we made it back. He was out hunting and a rabid wolf attacked him. Galatea stood between them, I guess, and by the time they got back into town he was bleeding and she was barely breathing.”

Wide, gold eyes snapped to Leon’s, pleading for understanding- begging the human to keep his person from completing the story.

Then Luis shook off Leon’s gentle hand on his shoulder and took in a shuddering breath.

“She d-“ His voice broke and the story finished in a whisper. “She died first, right on our kitchen table. Her Dust was… it was beautiful. Unearthly, in a way, but I would have given anything to have her back.” Leon’s expression crumbled and he felt his eyes mist. He knew what happened next. He’d seen it happen often enough on the front lines and or when a daemon took a hit meant for its human.

Fading.

The human would fade. Little by little, then all at once.

“He asked me, with his eyes, you know. He asked me to kill him.”

If Leon’s grasp got any tighter on Fiorire’s scruff she would have to nip him to let go, but the alternative was reaching over the table and gathering the crumbling scientist into his arms and that… Well, with Panza in the way, what chance did Leon have?

At the moment Luis’ daemon was a small, black cat that fit perfectly into his arms, where Luis cradled him before shooting to his feet. He began to pace, Panza’s tail trailing through the air in their wake.

Leon sat back on his chair and exchanged a look with his own daemon, though his mind was far away.

Abuelo Serra was an incredibly pious man. Faith was as much a part of him as Galatea, woven into him and reflecting him in everything he did. Never in a bigoted way, in fact, the only time Leon ever saw Abuelo set his jaw was when a priest learned about Luis and tried to ‘convert’ him.

Rafael Ruiz Serra never raised his hand in anger to any man, but he gave that bible-thumper a Look that would have made the gargoyles on the old churches hold their hats to their chests.

Then, with one hand on Luis’ shoulder and the other holding Leon back by the center of his chest, Abuelo Serra told that preacher that there was nothing wrong with his grandson and that the priest should look a little harder at the book he reads from every Sunday.

God the Father and their Mother Mary loved his grandson, that should be enough for any of their servants.

Luis had gone from holding back tears to barely controlling all the love that wanted to radiate out of his little body.

Leon wasn’t far behind.

…That man would not have committed suicide like the men Leon had fought beside.

Not someone so faithful and trusting.

He hugged Fiorire’s head and tried to make his breaths as even as possible. For Luis.

“What happened?” His whisper sounded like a gunshot. Luis froze, his fingers in claws around Panza’s sides.

“He…he left me to bury her in the forest and never came back. He kept her in a little glass jar, in the end.”

Leon broke at the weight of Luis’ words. The picture they painted.

Hands slid from Fiorire to gather Luis to his chest in one fluid movement.

Luis buried his face in Panza’s fur and shook apart.

Both men sucked in a breath when a warm weight leaned into Luis’ leg, supporting him from the side where her human was holding him together.

Being touched by another daemon is…

It’s like brushing your fingers across the Dust that makes up the bond between man and soul.

Leon held him tighter before the man and his cat shared a nod.

Luis’ now-free arm slid between his friend’s shoulders and pulled him into his own chest, Panza closing the gap by butting his head into Leon’s diaphragm.

All air went out of Leon’s lungs at the sensation.

After weeks in a cage having his other half shredded, years of brutality in a war that covered him in the blood and Dust of men and their companions, a lifetime of being on the outside looking in, an immigrant boy forced to flee from his family to a new world with only his stern Sicilian grandmother to keep him on the ground…

Being held by two daemons and the boy who knew him best was a sensation that was overwhelming each and every aspect of what made Leon… well, him.

A small hiccupping sob left one of their mouths and the other leaned in further, bringing all four of them to their knees in the little cabin surrounded by snow but filled with home.

---

A/N It's been too long fam .... I think this calls for a double upload today, what do you think? ;) ¡Cállate! - Shut up! Nunca más. - Never again. This chapter is Abuelo, next chapter is... Leon >U>

[Pt. 5]

As always, memes and brainrot are under the #serennedy daemon au tag on my blog ^^

[imaginesfordifferentfandoms]

I Wish You Would

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Prompt - ‘I wish you would come back, wish you were right here, right now, it's all good, I wish you would.’

Joel found himself walking the lengths of the gated community most nights, his thoughts wild and harsh, berating himself for being so stupid. Most of the time he waited until Ellie was asleep but some nights he felt caged and marched out whilst the kid was still downstairs, Ellie shaking her head every time he shrugged on a coat and opened the door but he was just glad she hadn’t called him out on his bullshit yet. He knew it was coming, it had been months in the making but he just wasn’t in the mood for it. He’d walked for a while but his feet always ended up taking him down the old familiar path that led him to your house.

How many nights had he spent just standing on your porch, fist raised as he thought about knocking before he turned with his tail between his legs?

Too many, too damn many.

It had been months since the breakup, god how had so much time passed already? He didn’t even know how it had turned into a relationship, he sure as hell hadn’t brought Ellie and himself back here with any intentions of getting himself a girl. But then you showed up, all pretty eyed and bright smiles and somehow, somehow, you had managed to worm your way into his life, somehow you had become part of the small number of people he would tear the world apart for to keep safe.

After Ellie he thought that was it, he didn’t think anybody else would be capable of coming into his life and turning it upside down again. You just seemed to love proving him wrong.

He’d gone twenty years without giving a damn about anyone else but suddenly he seemed to be making up for all that lost time given how fiercely and how strongly he loved the pair of you.

He’d already showed what he was capable of when Ellie was in danger but with you he had never had a reason to show just how dangerous he could be if you were in trouble, thankfully you weren’t put out on duty too often and you spent your time inside the gates but he knew if it came to it he’d kill anyone who even looked at you wrong.

And he had messed it all up. Even before the world ended he had never been any good at the whole dating thing. His job took up most of his time and when he got home he was tired and more content to spend the evening with Sarah than some woman.

He knew he liked you, it was a slow thing at first, he tried to keep you at arm’s length, tried to avoid you and distance himself but damn it if you were persistent. Tommy told him you were good, somehow even after all the doom and gloom you still found a way to be way kinder than people deserved.

It was Ellie that forced you into his life though. She wasn’t a stupid kid, not by any means, and she could tell that Joel liked you. So one day when Joel had gotten up from the sofa to make dinner not too long after she’d gotten in from school Ellie told him she’d invited you over to join them.

The look on Joel’s face was one Ellie had not seen before, he was torn between being pissed at her for springing it on him but he was also flustered, stammering out something unintelligible before demanding she help him cook seeing as she was inviting people over.

He had thought dinner would be awkward, full of stilted silences but seemed to forget that was impossible when Ellie was there. She must have asked you a hundred questions that night, one after the other, Joel had been tempted to tell her to calm it after the first thirty but you were smiling and answering them all, shooting them back at her and Joel couldn’t stop the smile that twitched at his lips.

From then on it became a regular occurrence, you joining them for dinner, most of the time you brought dessert that had Ellie grinning and swiping it from you before you even had a foot in the door. It was domestic in a way, listening as Joel scolded her with no real heat as he let you into the house and you automatically joined him in the kitchen to help finish up the meal. He scolded you for that too insisting you were a guest but you always shook him off with a laugh.

From there it went on, you stayed for longer after dinner was finished, Joel broke out the board games and grouched to himself when he was beaten by you whilst Ellie laughed at his misery. That turned into staying until Joel sent Ellie to bed and he saw you out.

Eventually it got to the point where you were staying long after Ellie had gone upstairs, you and Joel moving closer together on the couch until you were pressed against each other. Each of you usually had a drink and the conversations you had covered pretty much everything, at first they stayed on the safe topics of what you had done before the outbreak and other mundane things but eventually you started opening up to each other, Joel told you about Sarah, you told him how you were the only one who made it from your family.

Joel had never met anybody like you. He was right in his earlier assumption that you were too damn kind for your own good. Joel had told you things that should have sent you running, should have had you keeping as much distance between you and him as you possibly could have. Instead you had taken his hand in yours and rested your head on his shoulder before telling him he had done the right thing, that he had protected Ellie and that was the best thing he could do.

He didn’t know how you’d managed to survive out on your own for so long before coming across this place, too trusting and too nice, but somehow you had and he had never been more thankful.

It had taken months for Joel to finally even admit to himself that he was already halfway in love with you. At the point he had you had practically moved in with them, more and more of your things kept finding their way into their house, you fell asleep on the sofa and help Joel make breakfast before walking Ellie to school and heading to your own job only to meet back up with the girl afterwards and head to their house.

Ellie was a pain about it all, she wanted you and Joel together and she kept coming up with reasons to excuse herself giving you and Joel time together whilst shooting him a look each time she left the room. Joel could only ever roll his eyes at the look but even he could admit it was getting annoying now.

He wanted you, he didn’t know how it had happened but he wanted you and he knew despite everything you knew, despite the fact that he probably wasn’t the best thing for you, you wanted him too.

It took him a few more weeks to finally decide to just jump in head first and see what happened. So after cleaning up from dinner and playing a few games in the living room Ellie excused herself with a pointed look at Joel and this time instead of the half hearted glare he gave her each night he just nodded his head slightly and watched as she gawked at him before disappearing up the stairs, a soft yes escaping her as she left.

You had been able to tell Joel was nervous and usually if something was setting Joel off you’d be on edge too but considering it was just the two of you pressed shoulder to shoulder on the sofa you had hoped you could see where this night might lead. You’d been waiting for Joel to make a move for a long time now, not wanting to be the first to do it with how closed off Joel had been when you first met and then not wanting to ruin the friendship you had patiently formed with him. It was for the better to let Joel take the lead, even if it had been months of waiting.

He had watched your face shift from questioning to realisation and amusement as you settled even closer to him and waited. Of course you knew why he was nervous, some days it felt like you knew every damn thought in his head before he did.

He didn’t bother wasting anymore time, didn’t bother with words that felt stuck in his throat that could never do justice for how he felt for you, instead he just reached up to cup your cheek with a gentleness that had surprised you and leaned in towards you, stopping you before he touched your lips to give you a chance to pull away.

But you didn’t move, your eyes had fallen closed and your breath hitched despite anticipating this. Joel let himself close the distance between the two of you, let himself take a moment to savour the softness of your lips against his chapped ones before the kiss turned hungry, months and months of pent up pinning all channelled into one kiss.

From there nothing between either of you was ever really defined but it didn’t matter, Joel didn’t need any labels to let him know that he was in love with you. Nothing much really changed either after you started dating, it was only a few months after that kiss that Joel finally helped you bring your stuff around to their house and the three of you quickly got your stuff unpacked and you were settled in like you had never not been there.

Joel didn’t realise how empty, how lonely, he was before settling down, before having you and Ellie together, the pair of you at the kitchen table, heads bent together working on her homework, spending the nights with you curled up against him, listening to you laugh as he tried to kick you out of the kitchen as he cooked.

Really he should have known better, past experience should have taught him something, should have made him more cautious, but he had jumped head first in and now it was blowing up in his face.

It had been months, he couldn’t even really remember what that damn fight that made you walk out of the door with tears in your eyes was about. All he could remember was that it was the end of September, a time that always left him emotionally fragile at the best of times, and you had questioned whether he should be the one to go out on the supply run.

You hadn’t been anything but your sweet, soft spoken self, there wasn’t any judgement in your tone, no demands he stay inside the gates, just a simple are you sure you’re ok enough to do this. Joel being the absolute idiot that he was had gone and blown it out of proportion, honestly he was just picking a fight for the sake of it, he had so much anger and hurt and sadness in him that day and he took it out on you.

You who had been an absolute saving grace in this whole mess of a world, you who had stood by him no matter what, you who woke up in the night with whispered words and soothing touches when he shot up sweaty and panting and never forced him to talk about it before he was ready.

He had just kept going and going, yelling at you when you were the last person on this god forsaken planet who deserved it. He kept going until you took a deep breath and nodded, tears in your eyes and turned, walking out of the front door and not sparing him another glance.

It had been months since then, it was well into autumn now, the sky turning dark faster and the leaves turning brown. He hadn’t spoken to you once, he wanted to so badly but he knew he had messed up.

Ellie had called him every name she could think of to get him to see what an idiotic jerk he had been but he didn’t need her to tell him, he was well aware. He was aware of just how bad he messed up, hated himself for leaving it for so long but after he had calmed down and put the bottle of whiskey Tommy had given him months back away he couldn’t bring himself to talk to you.

He regretted it every day and wished he could just follow Ellie’s advice to suck it up and knock on her door you fucking idiot but time kept passing and it felt like too long had gone.

Joel was an idiot, you knew that, but you also knew he wasn’t used to letting other people in. Sure you and Ellie had somehow managed to chip at his walls long enough to slip past his defences and he was trying but you knew it was hard for him.

Spring and summer with Joel had been perfect, the two of you had only grown closer since you’d started dating and you loved the man, emotionally stunted as he was. You knew he had good days and you knew he had terrible ones, ones that left him in bed the whole day, words stuck in his throat as he grunted answers at you.

You didn’t mind, you had never minded. The world was a cruel place now and though Joel had told you a lot of what he’d gone through since the outbreak you knew there were things he hadn’t told you yet and that was ok too, you never pushed, especially not when there were things you kept to yourself.

When you had left his house that day you knew it would end one of two ways, Joel would come and find you once he had a few nights to calm down, to get past the day that haunted him from so many years back. You got it, you really did, it had been years since you lost your family and whenever an anniversary came around you didn’t want to do more than curl into Joel’s arms, hiding away whilst you cried into his chest.

The other option was that Joel would avoid you like you were a damn clicker, making sure the two of you were never in the same room whilst he licked his wounds. You hated that that was the option he went with. It wasn’t just months of dating that just ended one day but it was months of friendship before that. You were so used to his house that when you asked Tommy for yours back and he agreed with a sad look on his face it felt like you were in a stranger's house despite having lived there for years before Joel and Ellie showed up.

There was no more dancing around the kitchen as you cooked, no more stolen kisses and laughter filling the house. Instead you were alone in a house too big for you, cold and empty and missing Joel.

Of course you weren’t entirely lonely, you and Joel might not have been talking but you had to admit you were surprised when Ellie showed up at your door a few mornings after your fight with Joel, backpack on and demanding you walk her to school. You weren’t complaining of course and you didn’t complain when you walk past the school a few hours later and Ellie attached herself to your side, it was the closest she would come to giving either of you comfort but you took it silently and didn’t push her away when she walked into your house and made herself comfortable.

You were glad he hadn’t cut Ellie off from you, not that you ever thought he would and even if he did you knew Ellie would never allow it. Ellie was unlike anyone you’d ever met, so much of Joel in here and yet she was entirely her own person, so quick on her feet, always ready for a fight whilst silently always wanting some assurance that things were good and safe.

You didn’t even care how much time passed honestly, if Joel were to knock at your door now and apologise you’d have him back a second later. All you wanted was an apology, you might have been kind but it didn’t mean you would let people treat you wrong, you hadn’t survived twenty odd years in this new world by letting people walk all over you.

Most nights you lay in bed, the sound of people moving around outside could be heard but you blocked it out as your mind wandered. You always wished Joel would come to you, you dreamed about seeing him and watching as he stammered out an apology that he wasn’t used to giving before you would finally feel his arms around you again. You just wished he would show up and everything could go back to normal.

At the same time you were laying awake night after night missing the feeling of Joel’s arms around you, Joel was tossing and turning in his own bed that felt too empty without you in it with him. He ended up kicking the blankets off him more nights than not and forcing his feet into his boots, checking on Ellie to make sure she was safe and sleeping before quietly making his way out of the house.

Walking the lengths of the community didn’t really make it easier to dull the ache but he is able to sort through his thoughts easier than when he’s laying in bed staring up at the ceiling. The cold autumn air made him tug his coat tighter around himself as his thoughts went back to you.

God, you were the first person he had ever pictured something with, the first person he had wanted a relationship, a future, with. He had never seen himself as the type of person that would fall in love with somebody, for so much of his life he hadn’t had anyone and he had been fine with that but now he had had you and he wanted you back more than anything.

Night after night he found his feet walking unconsciously to your house. Each night he would stand at the closed door, pacing the length of the porch before turning back to the door and raising his fist. Whilst you were inside wishing he would knock he was sighing to himself as he lowered his hand and turned away, heading back to his cold bed for another night without you.

“You can’t keep doing this, Joel.” Ellie sighed a few weeks later, her voice uncharacteristically soft for this topic of conversation. “You’re miserable and not sleeping, I hear you sneaking out at night. She’s just as miserable, all she wants is for you to say sorry and then you’ll never have to talk about it again.”

“You don’t get it, Ellie. I messed up and now I’ve left it too damn late, she doesn’t deserve this.” Joel told her, keeping his voice steady even as his hands shook because the kid was right, he was so exhausted and he missed you.

“She loves you, Joel, she never stopped. She hates that house, just…just put everything aside, it doesn’t matter if you think she deserves better, she wants you.” Ellie told him as she stood up and grabbed her backpack. “She misses you and you miss her, you deserve something good, Joel.”

With that she turned to leave and Joel let his head fall into his hands. He knew she was right, he knew he was only making you both miserable and she had a point, no matter how many times he’d told you that you deserved better you always rolled your eyes and shut him up with a kiss, mumbling against his lips for him to stop being stupid.

He thought about that short conversation all day, it was nothing he hadn’t thought of himself but hearing Ellie say it made it sound more reasonable. You both loved each other and that was something rare, why was he so determined to mess it up?

That night he climbed out of bed again, stopping to check in with Ellie and rolling his eyes when he saw she was awake and grinning at him. He shook his head and told her to go to sleep before making his way out of this house. This time he forwent his usual walk of the community and instead made his way to your house hoping you would hear him out.

He didn’t have a speech ready, no grand words to win you back. He’d tried to pull something together but everything sounded forced and strained so he figured he’d see what he came up with when he saw you.

All he really knew was that he missed you and he loved you and even though that was scary, god was it terrifying, you were worth everything.

Now he suddenly understood all that romantic crap Frank prattled on about, about how there was somebody out there for everybody, somebody who would change the way he looked at things, changed the way he saw the world. He had always rolled his eyes when Frank started spouting poetry about love and finding your person even in this new cruel world but now he got it, he got what Bill had said when he read those words about finding the one person worth saving and protecting them because that’s what men like him were here to do and Bill was right, god help any motherfuckers who stood in their way.

Right now the motherfucker standing in the way was himself and he refused to drag this out any longer, if he knocked at your door now and you slammed it in his face then he’d accept it but if there was a chance you’d forgive him then he had to take it.

It wasn’t long before he was at your door and this time he didn’t give himself a chance to linger around, instead his fist knocked on the door and seemed to echo almost too loudly in the dead of the night.

Your heart sped up when you heard the knock on your door, there were only two people it could be and one of those was a young girl who wouldn’t bother with knocking, instead just letting herself in unannounced. The other was the man who had taken up permanent residence in your mind.

You threw a robe over your pyjamas to ward off the chill and slowly made your way down the stairs, trying to prepare yourself for coming face to face with Joel again for the first time in months.

Joel was a damn near nervous wreck as he waited for you to open the door, fists clenched at his sides as he cursed himself for listening to Ellie. You were probably asleep, it was probably for the best you didn’t answer anyway.

Just as he was about to turn and run the door opened and stopped him dead in his tracks. He could only stare at you, frozen in place like a deer in headlights. Ellie had been right, you clearly weren’t sleeping if the dark circles under your eyes were anything to go on, you had clearly been in bed though, hair slightly messy from where you had been tossing and turning and he could see you were wearing his shirt under your robe.

“God, I missed you.” He breathed out and then nearly slapped himself because that wasn’t what he had meant to say at all but the small smile that tugged at your lips was worth the slip up.

“What’re doing here, Joel?” You asked softly, leaning against the door frame and wrapping the robe even tighter around yourself as the air from outside hit you.

“Doing somethin’ I should’ve done a long time ago.” Joel sighed as he straightened up, it was easier now that you were in front of him, easier to breathe, easier to think, easier to speak. “You got every right to hate me, I should never have spoke to you like that and I sure as hell shouldn’t have waited all these months to come apologise. I ain’t gonna stand here and make excuses, I did what I did and I am so sorry, Y/N, I always told you you deserved someone better and I hate that I messed up so bad. I ain’t here asking you to take me back, I miss you like crazy but I get that I waited too long but you need to know I truly am sorry, baby.”

You were silent for about the longest minute of Joel’s life before your smile widened some more and you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

Joel froze for a moment, stiff in your hold before you felt him practically melt around you, arms wrapping around your shoulders, one hand coming up to rest against the back of your head as he held you close to him, savouring the way you felt against him after months of doubting if he’d ever feel you again.

“That’s all I was waiting for, I just wanted an apology.” You murmured into his chest and Joel took a shaky breathing. “I love you, Joel, that never changed.”

“I love you too, you know that don’t you, baby?” He asked and you looked up at him, smile still in place as you nodded and reached up to press your lips to his.

Joel let himself be pulled into the kiss, let it stay soft and slow as he cupped the back of your head to pull you closer. Eventually the two of you pulled away, unable to do more than just smile at each other.

“We’re good?” Joel whispered as he leaned his forehead against yours, feeling as you nodded again.

“Yeah, we’re good.” You said softly causing Joel to lean down for another kiss before he pulled away again.

“Go put your shoes on, it’s about time you came home.” He told you, keeping his voice soft and low.

You didn’t hesitate to turn around and slip your feet into the first pair of shoes you found by the door, just as desperate to go home as Joel seemed to be to have you there. The two of you didn’t speak as you walked the short distance back to the house, Joel tucking you under his arm with both of you thankful that you were coming back.

Both of you were exhausted, it had been months of sleepless nights without the other and it seemed to hit the pair of you the second you were wrapped up under the blanket, you curled into Joel’s chest as his arms rested around you. Immediately you felt your eyes close, too heavy to keep open and Joel struggled to pry his open.

“Glad you’re back home, Y/N/N.” Joel murmured into your hair and you could only hum and nod tiredly against his chest. “Gonna spend the rest of my life treatin’ you right.”

“Love you, Joel.” You whispered into his chest and Joel smiled tiredly as he pressed a kiss against your hair.

“I love you too, baby.” Joel whispered back and forced himself to stay awake until he heard you breathing even out and he was sure you were asleep.

The next morning Ellie couldn’t contain her smug grin as she came downstairs to the sound of laughter and music from the record player. Joel was the first one to see her and he couldn’t even pretend to glare at her, he owed that kid more than she knew and this was just another thing to add to the list, without her he sure as hell wouldn’t have pulled his head out of his ass and fixed things between you and him before they became too broken.

You were more than happy to have your routine back, cooking and laughing with Joel, sitting at the table making easy conversation with the two people you loved most in the world, glad that your wish was answered and Joel had finally knocked at your door to bring you home.

Joel Miller Taglist (Click the link in my bio to add yourself!) -

@avengersfan25, @happycupcakeenthusiast, @cilliansangel, @sleepylunarwolf, @spideysimpossiblegirl, @definitelykyles, @top1bbgloak, @handsupforamiracle,  @irishavengersassemble, @nao1800,  @hysteriaabsd, @imposter-27, @hoplessromantic17, @kitten-xoxxo , @mirasantidotes, @audrie-bryant, @pank0w, @lillianacristina​, @soldierheart

Thank you so much for reading!💙

[apocalypse-cowboy]

Warnings: angsty as HELL. I'm sorry in advance 🙏

Rainwater

If you told Scout that he would move out of Manhattan and go to Summerville with his brother, not only lose his brother, but also losing all contact with the people he considered family well...he wouldn't believe you.

He would call you crazy and say that "There is no plausible way that would ever happen." and call it a day.

Unfortunately for him, that was all true. After Egon passed away, he became recluse. Well, more than he already was. He wanted to desperately try to get into contact with his friends again but after some nasty things being said on both sides, mainly between Peter and himself, he knew it was pointless to even think about trying.

So he didn't talk to them again as a result. Hell, he never really talked to many other people anymore. But, it still hurt him to see his friends just leave him all alone after the good times they had spent together.

The only ones he really kept in contact with was his beloved niece Callie and her children Phoebe and Trevor. Though sometimes he could hardly look any of them in the eye. They all reminded him of Egon in some way or another. But he pushed through the pain and loss, then he began to finish what Egon and him started to work on.

With the high risks of Gozer coming back into the picture and possibly destroying life itself, Scout believed that it was up to him and only him to finish things once and for all.

The Ecto drives down a long dirt road that led to a decent sized house in the middle of nowhere. It was a nice sunny day, well it would be nice if the looming rift storm wasn't mocking everyone and spreading a feeling of doom.

In the passengers seat was Phoebe, Trevor was driving while Ray, Peter and Winston were in the backseat. The air was tense.

"Are you sure this will work? That we can convince him?" Treavor asked. Phoebe only sighed and shrugged "I don't know. But it's worth a try." She looks ahead at the house that is getting closer "Besides, either way, we NEED him for this. He and Egon knew more about this situation than we do." The three men in the back just silently nodded, only slightly listening. Winston took it up on himself to break the tension "Well.." he paused "Here's hoping this won't lead to any funerals." He joked trying to lift the mood. He didn't get any responses.

The car parks in front of the house, it was a cozy cottage home with a chain link fence and a gate surrounding the front yard. There was an old fashioned car parked near the side of the home, a doghouse could be seen slightly next to a large shed in the backyard that also had fencing around it.

Everyone gets out and the first thing they hear is a dog barking.

It was a golden retriever, it looked more happy to see people instead of hostile. Treavor smiled knowing who this is and quickly opened the gate and crouched down to start petting the dog while everyone else got in and closed the gate.

"Hey there Rook!" Treavor said while petting the dog's soft fluffy fur "Do you know where your dad is?" He asked. Rook whined in excitement and her tail started to wag as she quickly ran to the front door. She was very intelligent, Scout had trained her well when he got her as a puppy.

The OG Ghostbusters where surprised to see that Scout owned a dog. They never thought he would ever own an animal before.

Vinkman, being the snarky man he is, decided to poke fun at this "Of course he would prefer an animal's company over people's." He said sarcastically as the others rolled their eyes and shook their heads at his antics. "Well, I think it's sweet that he has a dog!" Ray spoke with enthusiasm.

Trevor finds the spare key that was hidden in under the welcome mat that said "Why can't you trust Adams? Because they make everything up!" on it and unlocked the front door.

Everyone took a deep breath as the door opened and they went inside. Rook ran inside and went to lay down on her dog bed next to the couch that had various chew toys on it.

As the door shut behind them, they took a good look around the living room. There was a small sofa with a coffee table in front of it there were many pages of notes scattered around it. There was a dresser with a small T.V. that was playing a random game show on low volume. There was also an old grandfather clock near a window, the ticking noise was loud compared to anything else. The windows where blocked with blackout curtains, keeping the privacy of anyone inside.

Peter whistled lowly, "Would you look at this boys." He said while pointing at a wardrobe that held Scout's old tan, Ghostbusters uniform on a hanger. It was left unwrinkled, the patches that had the iconic Ghostbusters logo, "Spengler" was still embroidered onto the chest area and a few other patches that Egon had gifted to him that had a stupid science pun on it or some flower or plant ones where slightly faded due to time.

Ray got the other's attention "He still kept it." He said in awe while he pointed to the photo they had all taken together. They were all on the staircase of the firehouse, Winston and Ray where on the near the bottom while Egon and Scout were a few steps above them. Peter was on the ground leaning against the railing with a smug smile on his face. They all looked so happy in the photo. After it was taken Scout said that he looked stupid in that photo, he said he wouldn't keep it but it looks like he changed his mind.

Next to it was another photo, but it was of just Egon and Scout. They were standing side by side, smiling wide while Scout was holding a smoking ghost trap. In a hasty scribble, courtesy of Egon, the words 'Scout's First Catch' was written at the bottom. "And that one too." Winston said while pointing to the photo of the siblings. They all remembered how proud Egon was that day.

Next to the wardrobe, was a display case that gave anyone a full view of his protron pack. Surprisingly, it was still in a functioning condition and it looked like a few parts were repaired and replaced with newer more 'modern' technology.

The group was broken out of their thoughts when a loud thud came from the room upstairs, followed by a loud and slightly muffled 'FUCK'.

They all slowly made their way up the stairs until they got to a door that had signs that said 'keep out' or 'do not disturb' on them. They all look at each other and Phoebe knocks on the door.

"It's open!" The slightly muffled voice shouted. She opens the door and they boys are shocked at what they see. On the walls, there are various equations, diagrams, graphs and charts sloppily pinned to numerous bulletin boards.

A few tables where filled with various scrap parts and books. Though what shocked them the most was the state that Scout was in. He was hunched over the work desk, scribbling furiously on the paper and sometimes turning his attention to the new ghost trap he was working on. His hair was decently grey and from what they could see right now, he had grown out a short bear due to the obvious lack of proper grooming.

He was also wearing a loose fitting pair of sweatpants and a large T-shirt that looked too big for him.

They all slowly walk over to him, and they took a better look at him. His once healthy skin was now pailer, his eyes were tired and slightly sunken in due to a lack of a stable sleep schedule. He more or less looked like a zombie, but a tad bit more functional.

The man in front of the senses their presence, he clears his throat "It's rude to stare you know?" Scout says in his classic monotonic tone. His voice was slightly scratchy due to a lack of use.

Phoebe nervously picks at her fingers and takes a deep breath "Grunkle Scout?" She asked timidly. He hums in response as he was still focused more on the trap. Phoebe looks to Treavor and he takes over for her "We have some people who want to see you." Scout scoffs, his annoyance clearly showing through "If it's the cops again tell them I'm..." He turns around in his chair and when he sees the other three Ghostbusters, he stops talking. His expression falls falt as he looks at his Grand Niece and Nephew "Phoebe....Treavor..." He points to the trio "What are they doing here?" He hisses, not wanting to see them.

The boys flinch at the harsh tone so Ray tries to start the conversation, "Scout, listen I know you are upset-" "Upset is an understatement Stantz. But go on." Scout cuts off his former friend but signals him to continue. They all cringe when he uses Ray's last name instead of just calling him Ray.

"But, we really need your help with this." He pleaded "Please. I know we all didn't leave on the...best of terms..." He paused looking for the right words to say "But you know the most about what is happening out there. So please, we will do anything! Anything at all to have you help us." He begged.

The room fell silent, the tension was building as Scout thought up a response. He got up from his chair slowly, and approached them as he got up close and personal. There was hard silence as everyone braced for whatever was about to be said.

A stone cold look was on his face and his eyes were unreadable. They haven't seen him like this since college.

"No."

It was a short and quiet response. But to everyone else, it was the loudest thing in the room. Phoebe and Trevor were internally panicking. Winston and Ray held the most sadness in their eyes, but Peter...Oh boy Peter was pissed. And in classic Venkman fashion, he wasn't going to keep his mouth shut.

"So, let me get this straight." He started pointed to Scout "You. Are going to just let Gozer come in here and casually destroy the entire universe?" Scout only crossed his arms, not budging on his words.

Peter scoffed and shrugged "And for what? To be petty and bitter?" He continues to poke and prod hoping to get a response.

"Peter." Winston tried to stop him before it escalated to far "No!" Peter shouted startling everyone except Scout. He knew he would throw some sort of tantrum, he expected as much. "Im not gonna take 'no' as a good answer!" He grabbed the collar of Scout's shirt tightly. Despite the hight difference he had a pretty good grip on him.

"I want you to give me a good reason why." He said while slightly shaking the younger man, slightly getting in his face while he talked.

Scout's face contorted with anger as he harshly yanked Peter's hands off of him. He was pissed. He took a long shaky breath as he tried to compose himself "You want a real answer?" He asked rage slowly coating each word. "I'll give you a good reason." He said while he started to pace "First off, you called us crazy when we said that there was a high probability of Gozer coming back." He waved his arms around while he talked. He was an animated talker no matter what "Second off," he abruptly stopped pacing and pointed at his three former colleagues "You! You all left me alone when I needed you the most!" He shouted. His emotions overwhelming him "I was so scared, when Egon died. I wanted...no...NEEDED someone to turn to but NO!" He started to shout. He was getting emotional, all the stress, grief and rage he had collected over the years coming out all at once

"I NEEDED YOU! I NEEDED THE PEOPLE WHO I TRUSTED THE MOST! AND WHAT DO YOU DO?!" At this point tears where sliding down his face "YOU LEFT ME! THAT'S...That's what you did." He finished his rant. Furiously wiping away the tears of rage, anger and sadness from his face. He didn't like crying in front of people.

He was shaking, crying and on the verge of a panic attack. The boys where stunned at the amount of emotion he had shown. Not in a million years did they think that Scout Spengler was capable of showing this much emotion all at once.

Scout took a shaky breath and slouched slightly "So there. There's your reasons why." He whispered. Any other words being said where interrupted by the violent shake in the ground.

Everyone looked out of the windows of the attic to see the ever growing storm was rapidly growing. Rook was heard barking and whining in distress downstairs. "Dear God." Scout whispered in disbelief. His glasses slightly fogged up from all of the tears.

"What's going on out there?" Winston asked. Scout's focus was on the source of the storm "The portal is opening. All defences have been broken through." He said hastily while running his hands through his long messy hair in distress.

He thought for a moment then sighed "Fine, I'll help." Everyone sighed of relief "But I'm not doing it for you." He looked at his former friends "I'm doing it for them." He motioned twaords Phoebe and Trevor.

Though there was a small part of him that was doing it for the three of them as well, even if he wouldn't say so.

He still cares about them, even after all this time, and all they went through to get to this point.

[gortrash]

Been working on a basic height chart for all my TES characters, so here are my dysfunctional babies (and here’s to hoping tumblr doesn’t kill the image quality, but if it does, just click on it to see it better.)

From left to right, we have Ilyavanthra, Evelynn, Morganne, Delilah, Taka-Xil and Jacken.

More info on these guys under the cut!

Ilyavanthra Atyreni is my resident villain, a Thalmor superior who thinks she’s god and refuses to acknowledge the Divines out of spite— which won’t go down well with the rest of the Thalmor, but that’s fine, she’s got big plans for them along with the rest of the world. The pivotal point for her was when she went missing, lost her legs under mysterious circumstances, came back wrong, refused to elaborate. After that she began frantically planning some kind of ultimate design and built new legs as proof of her efficiency. She’s positively obsessed with the Dwemer, their ideologies and methods and studied them for a large part of her life. At some point she was married to Evelynn, but their relationship is… difficult. All in all, giant scary lesbian Altmer with religious trauma and one hell of a god complex about to make it everyone else’s problem.

Evelynn is my favourite child, she’s my Bosmer Vestige and has lived for a very long time after the events of ESO, in which she has spent the years going from outright saving the day to falling into the background and preferring to work on the preservation of Tamriel from behind the scenes, as she knows no other purpose. Super complicated bisexual disaster love life, let me tell you about it, sheesh. She’s been around to help put down Mannimarco whenever he pops up, but has been running from Molag Bal and the looming feeling of impending doom he carries— little does she know she’s in a rat trap. Because of her extended life, her mind has far outgrown her body and by the time the fourth era rolls around, she’s less than all there, susceptible to any forced that would wish to control her (she’s also the character I put through the Vicn Trilogy, because putting her back in Coldharbour sounded like the worlds sickest joke.) I love female characters who have been put through extreme tribulations and come out of it little bit off the rails RAHHH!!

Morganne is my Imperial Dragonborn who remembers absolutely nothing prior to the carriage ride except her name. She fulfils her destiny in not only slaying Alduin but also taking up the role of Konahrik, which only strengthens her power as Dovahkiin. But what does it mean about you if you managed to destroy the destroyer of worlds? Does that not make you just as, if not more, dangerous? Perhaps. She’s still young and pretty naive but by god, is she as stubborn as a dragon should be, and keeps doing impulsive dumb shit she gets in trouble with everyone for. She refuses to kill Paarthurnax, who she ends up considering her father figure, refuses to kill any more dragons considering it ‘kinslaying’, as well as arguing that she believes Odahviing and Durnehviir to be her most loyal brothers, and instead of killing him at the summit of Apocrypha, releases Miraak and keeps him on a leash. They hate each other’s guts (code for they are deeply in love and cannot resist one another but both won’t make the first move out of pride)

That tiny lass is Delilah, a Breton with big dreams of being a sorceress but unfortunately also sucks at magic. See that staff she’s holding? She doesn’t know how to use it aside from thwacking people. She does however have a mass aptitude for Restoration locked away, she just has to figure out how to harness it, because without control, her emotions dictate her powers in miraculous ways, even resulting in resurrecting the dead. See that big fella beside her? He’s proof of that. Also, don’t let her baby face fool you. She’ll bite your ankles and she has a thing for monster boys.

The big fella in question is named Taka-Xil, and oh boy, does he run on pure spite. He’s not had a very good start to life, despite being born under the Hist, he seemingly had no connection to it whatsoever and couldn’t properly read the social cues of his kin or fully understand them. For that reason, he was deemed soulless, and no matter how much sap he consumed he couldn’t connect to the Hist— the amount he drank only made his scales much tougher, his tongue golden and his height drastically taller than by Argonian standards. So he runs off to join the Dark Brotherhood and developed a great deal of reverence for Sithis. He becomes Listener and lets out all that steam on contracts, until he meets Delilah, who teaches him that being soft is just as important as being strong. She’s the only one he sees any light in and he adores her. Big gruff guy soft for sunshine girl plus dramatic height difference trope here.

Lastly, we have my most experimental OC, the wonderfully unhinged Jacken Archanymia, the very last Cyrodiilic bird person. He’s been alive all these years due to a curse bestowed upon him by Peryite, and has since dedicated his life to creating the cure to everything. Yes, everything. Beginning with his own terrible affliction. He’s a brilliant alchemist and doctor, and regardless of how spooky his attire is and how… rotten he is beneath it, he’s very charming and animated, and does his very best to act gentlemanly. Just don’t get too close or you might get sick. That mask is more for your protection than his.

[all-pacas]

For the ask game, 🍬🧩

i did the “what makes you click away” already but lucky for you i have SO MANY answers for the other i could do it fandom by fandom

🍬 - (unpopular opinions about popular characters)

fe3h bc i know my audience —

claude is very smart and capable and also a cringefail loser. he’s making shit up as he goes along. he is bad at friendships and boundaries. he thinks his jokes are hilarious. he is both memelord and really talented commander and awkward loner

yes his real name is khalid but he’s actually probably fine with going by claude post game. it’s been his name for years. he has friends. he likes being claude von riegan. even if he resumes publicly being khalid it’s claude who had friends and companions for the first time in his life he’s not shedding it like a bad coat

byleth was not and will never be a bubbly outgoing person. they do not laugh or get chatty. they open up and grow and change but they by nature are rather serious and aloof and that is ok actually.

lorenz is a wonderful person and i love him that is my hot take

bg3 —

astarion is a poor little woobie yes fine. he has never once cried about his tragic life. he is emotionally repressed as hell. his default reaction is lashing out in anger not being weepy. stop turning him into a limp anime boy

of the bg3 boys astarion is definitely the most Traditionally Masculine ie he’s allergic to feelings, very proud, very repressed, wants to protect and not be protected, likes violence, does not want to discuss feelings ever, definitely thinks gale and wyll are a bit soft and pathetic for doing things like “expressing feelings sometimes” and “wanting meaningful relationships” again stop making him a uwu baby he’s an asshole

second person pov is a bane on my existence and i cannot stand it. even if a story is otherwise well written it is such a turnoff

house medical doctor —

boy do i hate how the fandom is 100% hilson. not because i hate old man yaoi but i just care so much more about the baby doctors and there is no content. or the content is like. like look 13 and chase are my favorite children too but where’s my CONTENT. where’s my FANFICS. feed me

i hate how fandom like. like fine we hate stacy (i think she’s fine actually), but she was a very important part of house’s life for a long time. even if he’s over her. past experiences still matter. same VERY MUCH goes for chase and cameron for one another. like haha doomed haha compet but they spent half the show together, they mattered a lot to one another, im not saying ship it but it kind of bugs me that fandom is like cameron whomst. backstories whomst. house has never felt love before whomst

after faking his own death i very much doubt house is going to go out of his way to leave touching letters and guidance for his former fellows. as nice as that would be. i think its a clean break. he’s gone. it isn’t that he doesn’t care at all, but lingering over past regrets and loose ends … eh. i think he figures they’ll all manage without him. he’s not sentimental.

[pacificwaternymph]

Finn was worried.

It knew it shouldn’t be. There was no evidence to justify his concerns. Not one sign from anyone involved that they were heading down that path, or that they would head down that path any time in the future. It was being ridiculous.

Really, more than likely he was looking for a correlation that didn't exist. It was just projecting its long buried hurt onto someone else. But… Elliot was turning out to be so very much like himself, and it frightened him. 

The kid was on the more animalistic side, something he shared with Neb and Finn. They were subject to more weird looks and whispers behind their back in the streets because of it. But it went beyond that. 

Finn had been watching. It saw how Elliot reacted to the finer things in life, how he shied away from the expensive and decadent lifestyle his sister, father, and even to a lesser extent, mother adored. And though it would be many years before the factioning came around that would claim the children as official pirates of the isles, Finn could already make fair guesses where each would end up. 

He didn’t worry for Tabitha. If there were ever anyone born to be a Kestrel, it was her. Though only eight years old, she was a master con artist. She could swindle you out of your own pants and you wouldn’t even realize you’d gotten the bad end of the bargain until she’d already disappeared. She was also a master manipulator, able to convince someone to do anything for her with just a few sweetened words. She had half the island’s population wrapped around her tiny finger.

But Elliot… Elliot was unlike anyone else in his family. They was a natural born fighter, a brawler through and through, which was such a stark contrast from his parents and sister. And it was really trying not to, because this was so undeniably different, but when Finn looked at them, all it could see was a freshly minted Kite, scorned by its parents, disowned for a difference in ideals.

Logically he knew there was nothing to fear. Inigo wasn’t like that. He didn’t care for factions. Hell, he hadn’t even married within his own, and neither he nor Jo had ever given a rats ass about the factions of those they associated with. 

And it knew that Elliot didn’t receive the same kind of bullying it had, or at the very least not nearly to the extent that it had experienced. Not when the kid was known to kick and bite and scratch at anyone who came too close. And if that wasn’t enough to scare them off, Tabitha certainly was. 

But even knowing all of this… Finn felt scared. Scared that Elliot wouldn’t grow up to be the person their parents expected them to be. Scared that they would reject them for it. Scared that history was doomed to repeat itself, no matter how promising the start. 

And he hated himself for it, but some part of his mind whispered evidence. Little pieces used to justify its fear. Inigo prided himself on refinement and elegance. Jo detested all things violent. He hated to think these things of his friends, or that they meant anything about the future of their son. It wished it could just tell the thoughts to shut up. But every time he pushed them down, they came back louder.

So he found himself on the front door of Inigo’s truly ridiculously large mansion, hand hovering over the knocker on the large wooden doors.

It didn’t need to knock. The mansion was practically a second home to him by now. It spent just as many nights here as it did in its own house, and last it heard Lazuli had moved in full time. Jo had even offered to let him move in as well, but he had turned her down. 

But with what it had come to do, come to ask, it didn't feel right to barge into their home like that.

Taking a deep breath, he reached up and pounded on the door. A few agonizing minutes ticked by before it swung open. Finn had been expecting to be greeted by one of Inigo's household staff, but instead it found Jo on the other side of the door.

"Finn?" she said, a confused smile spreading across her face. He didn't blame her. It flinched, already thrown off balance. But this was good, he told himself. This way it could just get it over with. "What are you doing here?"

"I need to talk. To you," he stuttered. Jo's smile dropped, concern replacing it. She stepped aside and ushered him inside.

"Yeah, of course," she said gently. "Is everything okay? Did something happen?"

Fin shook its head. No, nothing had happened yet. That was the whole point.

"No- no. There's just something that's been... bothering me," it admitted. Jo thinned her lips, glancing around the room. Then the smile returned, and she gently took his hands.

"Of course. Let's go somewhere a bit more comfortable."

-

"It's about Elliot," Finn said. They were in the library, sitting next to a crackling fireplace. Jo had sent for some hot chocolate and was now sipping delicately from her mug. Finn's sat untouched on the corner table next to it.

Jo's eyes flickered with something unreadable, her brow creasing. She nodded at it to keep going.

Finn took a deep breath. "He's a great fighter, you know. And a very quick learner. I think Lazuli is running out of things to teach them."

The tension in Jo's shoulders lowered a bit. "That he is," she laughed. "You should see how quickly they can tire Inigo out. I swear he almost has too much energy."

Finn nodded. Okay, this was it. He steeled his nerves, nails digging into his palms for how hard he was clenching them.

“He’s shaping up to be a rather fine… kite,” it ground out, and braced itself for the reaction.

Jo gave him an odd look. Finn tried not to read into it. She seemed to ponder over his words, frowning.

“Well…" she began. "I think it’s still a bit early to tell for certain what faction either one of the children will want to be sorted into yet." She grinned at Finn. "I know you’re excited about being an Uncle, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”

Jo laughed, and relaxed, taking another sip of her hot chocolate. Finn reached for its own mug, but still didn't drink from it. He stared down at the dark brown liquid, studying the way it rippled and sloshed minutely so that he wouldn't have to look at his friend. This was excruciating.

“What… what if he was a Kite, though?" Finn asked, glancing up at Jo. "Instead of a Kestrel or a Nightingale like you or Inigo? Would that be… okay?”

There, it said it. The words hung in the air ominously, too big to be taken back now. Jo continued to give him that unreadable expression, leaning forward.

“Well of course it would be. Why wouldn’t-“ she cut herself off, looking it up and down. Understanding dawned on her face. “Ah. Is this about… your factioning?”

Finneas flinched, but nodded all the same. Of course Jo would figure it out. She knew it better than anyone else. He should have expected this.

“I’m sorry," it said, hunching its shoulders. "I just can't stop thinking about it. I don’t want what happened to me to... happen to them..”

“Do you really think we would do that?” Finn risked a glance at his friend. She didn't look or sound angry. She looked... confused, still, and hurt.

“No!" it blurted. He couldn't stand her looking at him like that. "Of course not. I just… my mind keeps linking all these pieces together." It buried its face in its hands. "Every tiny similarity sets off warning bells in my head, Jo. Everything he does reminds me so much of me and I don’t know what I'd do if... if...”

Suddenly there were hands on top of his, gently prying his fingers away from his face. Jo brushed her thumbs along its palms.

“I understand," she said softly. "But I promise you, Finn. There is nothing Elliot could do that would make us love them less. They’re my son. And family will always be more important to me than something like a faction. Whatever faction he chooses, or even if he decides not to join one at all, we will accept and support him.”

Finn blew out a breath. It nodded, finally feeling some of its fear dissipate. He stood up, and squeezed Joanna's hands gratefully.

"Okay." Its voice wavered, but neither of them mentioned it.

"Thank you for coming to talk to me about this," Jo said quietly. "Is there anything I can do that would help convince you?"

Finn shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't do something like that. I just... needed to hear you say it." Its vision was starting to blur, and now it was talking around a lump in its throat. "I... I should go."

Joanna looked like she wanted to protest, but she still nodded and stepped back. "Do you remember how to get back to the front door from here?"

Finn opened his mouth, offended she even needed to ask, but realized... no, actually, he didn't remember.

It shrugged. "It's fine. I'll just crawl out the window or something." He laughed. Joanna snorted, shaking her head. She looked like she was about to insist on escorting it, so it quickly waved goodbye and headed for the door.

“You're family too," Jo called out just as he gripped the doorknob. It froze. "You know that, right?” He exhaled shakily.

It wasn't the first time it had heard her say that. Jo loved to proclaim everyone in their little group to be family. Lazuli embraced it wholeheartedly, and Neb followed along with whatever Lazuli did. But Finn... had always been more hesitant.

Maybe it was because of how casually she threw the word around. Like it meant nothing to her. It held none of the weight that it did for Finn, all the complicated emotions and drama and rejection. She'd never had a family before, so how was she to know all the implications of it?

But now... now...

"I know," it said, and it meant it. "Goodnight, Jo."

He pulled the door open.

"Goodnight Finn."

-

As always, Finneas belongs to @finnified

[ofstoriesandstardust]

day 6 - i’ll be home for christmas - natasha “phoenix” trace

a/n: this is your warning that this was originally made with the paris/rise universe in mind 

summary: Your first Christmas with Natasha, you and your brother reflect on all you’ve gained (and all you’ve lost).

inspired by frank sinatra’s “i’ll be home for christmas (if only in my dreams)”

12 days of ficmas | main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist

warnings: swearing, kissing, jake’s a sad boy, i wrote hangster into this so what

word count: 933

"I hate Christmas.” 

Your eyes flicker over to your brother, who is leaning up against the kitchen counter. Phoenix shuts the fridge behind you, handing you a Diet Coke as her arm wraps around your shoulder. “Bagman, you hate everything.” 

Javy smirks. “Certainly not, he doesn't hate Bradshaw. In fact, I think just last night he was telling me just how much he loves him-” Jake shoots him a look, effectively cutting him off. You snicker, leaning closer to Nat. 

“Christmas is just so-” He sighs, looking over to you. “C’mon, you know. We’ve had horrible Christmases.” 

You shrug. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean I hate Christmas. I actually appreciate the holidays more now that I get to spend them with people who actually love and care about me.” Nat squeezes you. 

Jake sighs, a frown settling on his face, saying nothing more on the matter as the sounds of Fanboy and Payback entering the home reach your ears. 

-

“Hey look, mistletoe.” You snicker as Natasha squeezes your hands, pulling you under the decoration.  

“You did that on purpose.” 

She gives a half shrug, stepping closer to you. “Does it matter? You have to give me a kiss now.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh do I now?” 

She nods. “You’re legally obligated.” 

“Oh, well in that case, if I’m legally obligated to...” You trail off, reaching up to cup Nat’s face as you press a soft kiss to her lips. “That good enough for you?” 

Her eyes are still closed as she hums, moving her hands to your waist. “Mmm, maybe. I think you might have to kiss me again just to be sure. Cover our bases.” 

You snort, pinching her hip. “Maybe later, I need to go talk to Mr. Doom and Gloom over there.” You say, nodding towards your brother. Despite the cheery environment of the Christmas party at Rooster’s home, Jake’s spent most of the evening sulking in a corner. Even Rooster couldn’t get through to him, eventually letting his boyfriend have space. 

She groans, leaning her head on your shoulder. “He’s always stealing you from me.” 

“I am unfortunately responsible for him.” 

She hesitates, warm brown eyes flickering over your shoulder “He is okay, right?” You pause, glancing back to your brother, who’s been nursing the same beer for three hours. 

“I don’t... I think holidays are just hard for him. He and I don’t have a good track record with them and it’s always just been us for so long.” 

She nods, taking a step back. “Well, I’ll be in the kitchen making sure Bradley and Maverick don’t burn the house down.” She presses a kiss to your cheek and then turns. You sigh, walking the few paces to your brother’s seat. 

You take the spot next to him, but he doesn’t look up at you. “Hey.” 

He grunts in response.

You roll your eyes at him. “Jake, what’s up? You’ve been weird all day.” He shrugs noncommittally, bringing his beer to his lips. The thing must taste stale by now, having sat out all night. “Jake.” 

He opens his mouth, but pausing before he speaks. “You ever think- you ever think about talking to Sasch and Ty?” 

You frown at the mention of your siblings. “No, not really. Why?” 

“They miss you.” 

“Yeah, but... I don’t... I don’t need to talk to them.” 

He grunts again. “Why the hell not? They’re your family.”

“No, they’re not. You’re my family. They’re my family.” You say, pointing to Coyote and Payback, who are singing Christmas carols off-key while Fanboy drunkenly giggles, taking a video of them. “Our respective significant others in the kitchen are my family. I don’t need people in my life who stand by our homophobic parents. Parents who disowned us on Christmas might I remind you.” 

“I remember. I was there.” 

You sigh, crossing your legs. “Why do you talk to them still?” 

“I don’t have anyone else.” 

“You have me.” He tilts his head, not saying anything more. You sigh, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “Jake, I wish so badly I could talk to them. Of course I miss them. Ty was my baby brother. He and I were inseparable and all I wanted to do growing up was be like Sascha. But it hurts too much, reminding me of what I lost.”

“And what if you lose this?”

“Is that- is that what you’re afraid of?” You ask. “That this-” You say, waving a hand to gesture around you, “-is going to go away? That you’ll lose it too?”

“It’s not guaranteed that you’ll get to keep it. What then?”

“Jake, these people are family. They care about you and I and regardless of what happens with Nat, of what happens with Bradley, these people aren’t just going to go away. I know I give you a lot of shit for being insufferable but you’re actually one of my favorite human beings. I’m grateful to have got to keep you in my life and these people feel the same way.” 

Your brother finally turns to meet you eye. “you turned out good, you know that? Always proud to introduce you as my baby sis.” 

You huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, and as much as I hate to say it, it's not without thanks to you. Now c’mon, your moping is bringing the mood down.” 

He lets out a laugh, real and genuine, as he stands from his seat. “God, I can’t believe you’re the one I got stuck with.” 

“Oh who are you kidding, I’ve always been your favorite.” 

[tiffanylamps]

Lamps you KNOW i HAVE to ask about catholic guilt but sexy!!!!

Turnip, you have picked my most slutty, debauched, utterly filthy wip to date. Just ask Cay, she's read the snippets, she knows all about the super unsavoury plans 😩💀 From this tag game

I'm putting a read more break here cause... yeah....

catholic guilt but sexy is set in a Beyond Evil au, where Yu Yeon lives and Dong Sik follows his family's religion. So much so, that he becomes a priest of a small parish. His life is pretty quiet, he has his friends and his flock, and he's even beloved by his local community. He's... he's okay. (Even if on the inside he feels like screaming). Everything is going according to plan, he's doing fine, until... A snobby, uppity, good-looking prick from Seoul gets transferred (banished) to his parish to be his new Deacon. Han Joo Won enters Dong Sik's life and absolutely destroys it. He is Dong Sik's demise. His doom. His very-own Judas, who has come to kiss him on the cheek.

He is brash and unrestrained, he talks openly about things he disagrees with, he doesn't care about what's expected of him by the church or God... and as time passes, his warm honesty, his single-minded determination, and his utter devotion to Dong Sik, rips the wool from Dong Sik's eyes to reveal what life could be like if he just let himself have it. Han Joo Won isn't Dong Sik's doom. He is his saviour. [Or... Dong Sik meets Joo Won and finds it impossible to repress his sexuality, which results in some freaky, freaky sex. Ngl, in this fic, there's a lot of guilt and shame, a fuckton of internalised homophobia, angst, and some pretty heavy BDSM, but a lot of love... so much love]

Here's a snippet of one of my favourite scenes... Just to be absolutely clear, this fic is rated a hard E. It was super hard to pick a short snippet, but I think you'll like what I've chosen. This snippet is of their first kiss. Obviously, Joo Won kisses Dong Sik first and these few paragraphs focus on Dong Sik kissing him back.

Dong Sik wants to cry. You fool, what have you done? But Joo Won didn't do anything that Dong Sik hasn't already spent twilights and sunsets dreaming about. 

Up until this point, his unwavering desire has trickled like a stream. But after he’s felt the warmth of Joo Won’s lips, he has become drenched with a waterfall of need. He silently prays that their Lord will have mercy on him. He is only one man, only a man… and Joo Won is a magnetic force too powerful to vanquish. So, he finally doesn’t fight it. He might find the strength one day. But not now. 

Joo Won breathes him in as Dong Sik gingerly brings their lips back together. It’s been so long since he’s done anything like this, almost Joo Won’s entire lifetime… Which… oh fuck, what a ghastly thought. There’s a smile against his mouth as fragile as origami in inept hands and it draws him in, asking to be treasured, begging for him to be the one to admire it. Dong Sik doesn’t know if he’s worthy - he might crush it and forever lose this opportunity - but he doesn’t stop himself from gently kissing Joo Won anyway. 

Joo Won moves closer with a bubbling, restless energy that reminds Dong Sik of the blooming riots of spring. A time for youth and life; gleeful as young love permeates the air with a joy that Dong Sik hasn’t felt before. It’s an infectious feeling and for a second, he allows himself the solitude of just basking in it. He can pretend that he’s free from the eyes of God and hell and anyone in between. He can pretend he’s living out the springtime flings of his youth, instead of the quiet comforts of his autumn years.

- So... yeah... that's the priest fic I was working on. At the moment, it's kind of a dead wip but I hope you've enjoyed what you've read. Thanks again for sending me this. (this fic is guaranteed to send me to hell... if I ever actually finish writing it lol)

[spookyserenades]

hey a lil qs even though most of them were adopted for the first time ( ig ) do they feel the need to scent their owner like that even if it was a bad person like for namjoon if he mates for life he would hv been doomed if he scented someone b4 who wasn't an ideal owner (⊙_⊙)

and gotta say i love the dynamic between mc and her mom thats so realistic the love hate relationship😂 and most importantly i want hobis bully and caleb to rot in hell HOW DARE THEY 😶

Hii so this is a really great question, thank you for sending it in honey! 💖

So you're right, none of the hybrids MC adopted had been adopted prior to her. In Trouvaille's society, it is more common for humans to adopt domesticated species of hybrids (like dog, cat, rabbit, etc.) and those particular hybrids would normally scent their adoptive guardian within hours of adoption. In Trouvaille, the "exotic" species that all of the boys happen to be are usually created in labs for the purpose of illegal labor, performing in circuses or stunt shows, or even for sport hunting, so it makes sense that the boys wait until they feel physically sick to scent MC. They have a lot of uncertainty surrounding their futures growing up in a society like that, and truthfully cannot feel entirely secure that MC won't abandon them one day. Scenting is a big deal for hybrids, they are basically staking a claim over the adoptive guardian, so to be abandoned after that would be painful and devastating for them. Even if they sensed their adoptive guardian was a bad person, they wouldn't be able to hold off on scenting them for long- it is an uncontrollable instinctual need. The boys MC adopted waited until they felt just the tiniest bit confident in the fact that she hadn't adopted them to hurt them, but Namjoon is a bit of a different story, which I'm glad you brought up!

Wolf hybrids aren't typically adopted very often in the society Trouvaille operates in, due to the general distrustful and possessive nature of a wolf. Namjoon must have felt an instant, instinctual connection to MC to scent her right away. The instinctual part of his brain wouldn't have triggered his need to scent if she had been a bad person. If we recall back to earlier chapters, Namjoon resisted going home with MC for three days before he reluctantly left the shelter. We also know that Namjoon tends to have an issue processing his emotions, and struggles to sort out what is instinctually wolf and what is intrinsically human when he feels things. Maybe Namjoon was spending this time resisting going home with MC because his instinctual side was screaming at him "this is the one!" Hmmm... many theories to think about! In a nutshell, I think if Namjoon was adopted by the wrong person, he'd make an attempt to escape before he'd ever scent them. (I hope this answered your question!)

AHH I'm so happy you're enjoying the love/hate relationship with MC and her mom! I think that her mother is a little bit of a flaky, free spirit (who means well, and is certainly very loving) and it sometimes clashes with MC's desire to keep things in control; perhaps MC has spent a lot of her life having to be the grown-up....

I AGREE!!! Hobi's bully was a mean teenager picking on a little kid, talk about scumbag behavior! As for Caleb, snitches get stitches dude-- he better not through our Tae under the bus!!! 😡

[yourthirdparent]

hi! i was scrolling through tiktok and came across this account which writes original songs, and this might be my hiperfixation with him, but to me they are all about jason, thought you'd like it

https://www.tiktok.com/@eclipseofthemoons?_t=8WQULb8NRwb&_r=1

heyo! i love this actually and you're so right. sorry to subject you to this but i'm gonna jot down my ideas on a bunch of her songs that i can see being about jason. putting it under a readmore cuz this'll get long.

this one is about him dicking around and having flings with random people at edgarton after he gets the prophecy from herophile. he's already decided that if he and piper go on the quest then it'll be him who dies, and he's accepted that it'll be Death with a capital D, so he knows he doesn't have much longer to live and has decided to do a bunch of shit to like make it count or whatever. the "clearly made up crime" mentioned is actually jason continuing to live after the first prophecy (both the "[person] or jason is gonna die" prophecies were actually just to make sure jason would end up dead quick). the crime is made up because it literally isn't against the rules that he continues to live, like either he or leo had to die and leo did that so jason should be able to head off totally fine. jason recognises that it's stupid as hell that they're just making shit up about how it's against the dumb ass rules for him to live when it shouldn't be but he's accepted it and is now just deciding to mess around. the last line of "when my body and my innocence aren't mine" conjures a specific idea for me but it's probably too dark for me to share anywhere so i'll just say it's about how he sacrificed his body and his childhood to the legion through the years he was there

this one is about the bitterness he feels towards his time spent as centurion then as praetor at camp jupiter being him being a tool for the gods for most of his life. "i created those around me" is about him training the newer members of his cohort. "playing god is funny til you have to choose who's dying first" is about how he used to use his power as a way to generally fuck around with people (like jokingly saying he'd punish someone for very light things) or improve the legion (like establishing better ways to handle younger campers or the whole changing the name to the first legion to represent a new start for rome) but eventually he has to lead his cohort and the legion into battle and send people off to do things that would likely lead to their deaths. "our bodies were the vehicle, transporters of the soul" is about how demigods are treated like pawns to assist in the plans of the gods. "i was young and bold and stupid in a six foot, self dug hole" is jason reflecting on how he used to throw his life away to carry out the wishes of the gods. "was i the only one to question anything at all? i guess i was, that's my bad. i'll answer to her call" i like to think that jason started questioning if a life serving the gods was worth the sacrifices he makes the instant he had to send someone off to what would probably be their doom. he starts asking if it's really a fair life if it's spent serving beings who don't care about you. juno doesn't really like that he's thinking things like that so she snatches up any memories of that when she sends him off to camp half blood. "my immortal evolutionary traits are still intact. i am unapologetic for the sympathy i lacked" is him p much saying he's got the powers of the gods and he's not afraid to use them if the gods try to take him down. unfortunately this is kind of overshadowed by the next lines which are "i left my body back in california cuz i'm weak" which i decided is basically him leaving the life he could've led back at the park his mother left him at, and "overdosed on phenobarbital, it's part of my mystique" with phenobarbital being used for seizures which can be caused by flashing lights which can be replicated with something like idk lightning which jason summons quite often. epileptic jason is real to me

THIS ONE OH MY GOD I AM BARKING AT MY SCREEN AND SCREAMING INTO A TUPPERWARE. it's about jason having his powers taken from him after the whole "calling zeus unwise" thing. he was probably getting someone out of a dangerous situation by jumping from something high, like a tall building or a cliff, when suddenly he figured out that oh shit he can't fly anymore. "did anybody listen? did anybody care?" is him questioning why nobody caught him. i like to think that he was carrying percy at the time and they landed in a body of water and poseidon caught them in it. but like, obviously poseidon wasn't trying to catch jason, jason was just attached to percy at the time so he ended up tagging along for the ride. so jason's wondering like, why did nobody else try to catch him? why did some wind god or another sort of water god that he'd helped, or someone like frank who could fly down not catch him? if not for the fact that it was percy that he was carrying, would he just be dead? all cuz his father took his powers from him for making a valid point? and uhh "i'm praying to a god i don't believe in on a dare" is him 1 losing all respect for zeus because what kind of piece of shit lets their child jump off a building and then takes their power away right when they're going to die? and 2 still praying desperately to zeus and any other god that could possibly save him on the vague hope that they would save him. "i'm not sure what i'm missing, a piece forever gone" is about how his powers (more accurately, the reminder of him being jupiter's son) is such an engrained part of his identity that when its taken away its like there's a piece of him that's just missing and will never be brought back. "i misplaced my mind at sunset" is him calling zeus unwise right after apollo was sent off to be punished later (and also close to the end of summer), "and stole it back by dawn" is him making the choice to go into the fight against caligula knowing he'd die close to the end of apollo's journey (and a bit into spring). (the seasons thing is about the concept of spring being dawn, summer being day, fall being dusk, and winter being night. like seasons corrospond to points in time in a yearly sense rather than a monthly sense). "me and my numerous souls" is the idea of the lives lost in battles jason led haunting him until his own death.

this one actually just has a couple lyrics that are jasoncore but !! funsies. this one's about his relationship with piper and dealing with the end of that while dealing with the prophecy in tbm. "it is simple, it is stupid that i'd rather write than speak, but melodies are easier when we haven't talked in a week. i'm on thin, thin ice, i've lost my way, i'll save it for another day" is him throwing himself into his work to avoid having to talk about him and piper drifting apart. just desperately avoiding that conversation because it's worse to deal with the awkwardness if they break up. "every word i say is just a lie" is about him neglecting to mention what herophile told him in the prophecy, "i'm betting with the gods until i die" is about him. b. betting with the gods until he dies. he's praying and he's trying to get his work on the shrines and such done before he dies (maybe working a bit harder on underworld gods so he doesn't have to worry about them being pissed at him when he gets down there). "i don't feel much but that's my only sin" is aroace jason. sorry bout it he's aroace for this pologies

this one is very priest jason, pretty god jason if you feel it. maybe he's gotten closer to the underworld gods or is the god of judgement (which works awfully well with his father being the god of justice). either that or its him being told all this by the judges when he reaches them. or by the spirits in the long ass line to judgement. or by nico before he even dies!! endless possibilities :)

this one. i literally can't explain it just listen to it. literally just. you understand. just all of it. gifted kid, struggles with english, mentions of storms and lightning bugs and promises. i don't need to explain. jasoncore through and through. especially the "i need more storms that blow you off your feet and carry you away, i need lightning that dances across the sky in graceful fury, i need fields of fireflies floating in the endless skies" bit. obviously cuz yk storms, lightning, but the way they're used seems graceful and calculated rather than angry and irrational and impulsive. this is gonna take a violent jump into anger issues jason but it feels a lot like how jason is expected to be cool and calm and whenever he shows anger everyone tells him to stop because he's supposed to be better.

maybe my hyperfixation on him isn't big enough to connect all of this one to him but the beginning sure as hell fits. also feels pretty leocore? like all of feels leocore. but more importantly jason. anyways "i'm overwhelming, overbearing to distract from the plain fact that i have no personality" and "i'm obnoxious cuz i own no originality" are jason not knowing who he is and throwing himself into anything that can make him seem like a whole person, like for example leaning further into his friendships (more specifically the idea of being the mom friend) than most other people tend to, or being annoyingly enthusiastic about anything he's interested in. like he's exaggerating any part of himself that he's certain of in the hopes that he'll convince everyone he's an entire interesting person. "i'm just copying whoever seems to be doing well" is self explanatory, he's mimicking everyone cuz he doesn't think he can do fine if he just Is what he is without any input from other people.

this one is hoooooh. again it's just a few lyrics but hwow is it banger shit. "the antagonistic arguments that line my unpaid debts is a pressure i can't withstand" is about how he feels like he owes something great because he's a jupiter kid at a camp that's named after his father and titled something that legitimately applies to him (fulminata, armed with lightning) and how everyone pressures him to be better than others cuz of it. and yk. anger issues jason. he feels like he's being antagonised. "showing pain is childish when i cry" is about jason being expected not to feel sadness or pain or anything and how he learned to crush that down and not cry and so he considers himself crying to be childish because the last time he cried was when he was a little kid who missed his family and the wolves and was overwhelmed from the new surroundings he was thrown into. "i'm praying to a god that's just a lie" isn't jason believing that the gods aren't real but rather that praying to them for things is pointless because they'll never listen. "i'm drinking down a tin of pastel paint cuz neon colours make me want to faint" can be many things. examples examples uhh autistic jason. like neon colours are just too damn bright for him and can overstimulate him vv easily and pastels are just easier for him to take in. or it could be a metaphor for demigod life being too much for him (represented by neons because chb has bright ass orange and camp jupiter has not really a neon purple but it's certainly not very pastel) and him heading out into the mortal world which is like less harsh and contrasted and more just blank and light. less heavy.

i didn't get to all of them cuz it would take me like a week to write all of it (this took me like an entire 24 hours hshs) and would be SO long (this is 2133 words rn it'd be so fuckin long if i kept going) but you're so right and am now obsessed with her music. thanks for sharing!

[zablife]

A Tomb by the Sounding Sea

Summary: As Alfie recovers from his gunshot wound at Margate, he reminisces about his teenage love who died of TB.

Author's Note: Written for the lovely @sunsetmourners 300 follower celebration. Congratulations, darl! This is based on the poem "Annabel Lee" by Edgar Allan Poe. It is set in S5.

Warnings: mention of illness, death

The pain woke Alfie suddenly. He thought it had been the pain, but it may have been the vivid dream as well. He had heard her voice call to him as she had so many nights before, only for him to realize it was the distant crash of the waves below his balcony. He had asked his nurse to shut the windows tightly at night, but she refused saying the salt air would do him good in his recovery. She was a bloody stubborn woman, he thought. What did she know of life after death as he was experiencing it now? His Annabel would know though.

His thoughts drifted back to her and the summer they spent together as teenagers, running along the shores of Margate. He had become infatuated with the daughter of a local fisherman and she with him. Until the fateful day when the wind began to blow from a gray cloud, chilling the air around them and she began to cough. He offered her his handkerchief and when she turned around, the linen was stained with blood. The look in her crystalline blue eyes was one of shock and horror for they both knew the meaning of the crimson stain. 

It hadn’t taken long for the sickness to consume her lungs. Although Alfie had not been to temple in a long time, he prayed for her recovery. When she did not get well, he concluded the angels had conspired against him to steal her. In his dreams he still imagined the winged seraphs of heaven flying away with her as he shouted for them to release her. It never stopped them from their work and he was always doomed to remain. He seemed to be cursed with eternal life. A man returned from the brink of death, fated to walk the cursed Earth without his love once more. 

They must have been envious of her, he often thought. Envious of her beauty and her happiness there with him in their kingdom by the sea. As he took up binoculars to watch the ships go by, he thought of the fleeting moments when they would pass an afternoon on the shore watching the fishing boats and sharing a picnic, delighting in the bounty of the summer harvest. Stealing kisses from her sweet lips, he wanted to remember her taste forever. For no one loved stronger than they had. No one older or wiser had experienced the love he had for his beautiful Annabel.

In the years that had passed and the days since his accident he began to wonder if there were demons living down under the sea. He no longer believed in angels so perhaps that is what had torn his love from him so suddenly. God knew his work had shown him the worst of mankind. He knew full well by now that Hell must surely be empty because all the devils were here. Why not in the seas as well?

Although they had been parted now longer than they had been together, Alfie always had her name on the tip of his tongue, her image behind his eyelids and her memory in his daydreams. Even now as he lay in his bed watching the night tide, he knew no one could ever dissever his soul from hers. However, there were times it was too much to bear. He called the nurse and asked for more morphine because tonight he wished for no dreams. He could no longer stand the torment, wishing the stars would not rise this evening, reminding him of her bright eyes. All he could think of as he drifted into the darkness was her tomb by the sounding sea and how he wished to be allowed to join her. 

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

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[thebeautyoffanfics]

hii i know you might be busy because of school so take your time! Could i please get a Dead!Mitsuba,,,Dead!Hanako,,,Dead!Tsukasa,, x reader (if you dont want to write for them characters right now than you can choose others i dont mind <3) where they think reader is dying??Any situation is fine :)

dead!mitsuba sousuke x gn!reader, dead!hanako x gn!reader, dead!tsukasa yugi x gn!reader

a/n: ahh thank you for being patient;;! And of course!! Thank you so much for requesting, and I hope this turns out alright! And I’m so sorry for the time it took;;

aahhh i constantly remember how difficult starting and ending fics are,,, sorry if it sounds awkward ;v;; i’m also sorry if this isn’t dramatic enough- i’m trying to get these out, but i’m in a funky phase, as i haven’t written in a while;;

warnings: vomit (in Hanako’s), blood (in Tsukasa’s)

word count: 2,765

mitsuba sousuke <3

It wasn’t uncommon for Mitsuba to watch you do everyday school things. He’d follow you around, playing it off as if he wasn’t. Even now, he sat under a tree, watching you assist one of the clubs.

You were always entertaining… or maybe, you were simply enough to captivate his attention in anything you did? Your arm held high as you caught the baseball tossed your way, grinning at the person who threw it. Though not fond of you smiling like that at another person, the glance you gave Mitsuba practically made up for it- though he still glanced away, as if he wasn’t looking in the first place.

Moments passed, before he peered back up at you.

Your smiling face, as you turned to speak to one of the club members- his eyes darting over at hearing someone yell your name.

“(Y/N)!! WATCH OUT-”

And, eyes back over at you, as the undeniable sound of a baseball smacking against a skull. Mitsuba froze up, only being able to watch as you toppled to the ground. The club members instantly panicked, and Mitsuba did the same- both he and the members running over to you, students shaking you as if that would do anything.

“Idiots!! Don’t shake them-!”

Unfortunately, all of his yelling was futile. Mitsuba was dead, after all, and he was sure that you were too. A bump already formed on your head, as you peeked your eyes open, reaching for your head. Your fingers grazed against the bump, then quickly retracted, as tears filled your eyes. Shouts from the club members to get an adult rang out, as Mitsuba placed his hands on your shoulder, shaking almost as violently as you were. You closed your eyes, shaking as you reached to your head again, only to retract once more.

“(Y-Y/N), it’s okay- a-are you okay?” Mitsuba stuttered out, trying not to get emotional. It was only an injury, right… you were fine. You had to be. You’d be fine. Right?

But, when you only shook your head, squeezing your eyes tighter, he couldn’t help the pure fear that filled his entire body. His eyes grew watery when a teacher finally arrived, already on the phone with, he hoped, the paramedics.

Too much time passed, Mitsuba thought. Too much time spent grasping your hand, tears threatening to spill, as the teacher asked you too many questions. And, the absolute dread at the teacher’s reaction to everything- hearing you attempt to explain that everything went black for a moment- seeing the teachers eyes widen a bit, then eyebrows furrow in frustration. Mitsuba wanted to scream. To yell at whoever threw the ball- he didn’t care if it was a mistake. To yell at the paramedics- it was an emergency! Why couldn’t the emergency vehicle get there sooner??

Finally, they arrived. Paramedics picking you up, Mitsuba following alongside them until you sat in the vehicle. His eyes flickering from person to person, then back at you, until they shut the doors and drove off.

The next few days were like a living hell for Mitsuba. No- he wasn’t living. It was as if he had been doomed to suffer for all eternity. He shook every time he walked past your homeroom, peering inside as he checked for you. Peering over at your desk, praying that he wouldn’t see flowers sitting there. The lack of flowers was the only hope Mitsuba had left. The lack of rumors, the lack of Sakura one day opening up the broadcast with “(Y/N)-san of the baseball field.” It sounded ridiculous, sure, but he couldn’t help it…

Yes, though he’d never say it to anyone- maybe you, but that was a stretch- Mitsuba had never been so worried… he thought, as he finally saw you again, clinging to you as if you were as fragile as glass- that your death would probably affect him worse than his own did. Because, a world without you, would officially be a world without life… without you, Mitsuba knew he could no longer even feel alive.

“You idiot… I hate you so much,” His voice broke slightly, as you wrapped your arms back around him. Much like the moment when he was so sure you wouldn’t show back up, tears threatened to spill. “I missed you. Dummy. I missed you so much-”

hanako <3

There was a part of Hanako slightly paranoid about your death. Not overly so- not in a way that would hinder you. Simply, in the sense that he would risk his well-being to protect you. Yet, there were many situations where he was… helpless.

It wasn’t uncommon for you to enter the girl’s bathroom, though it was almost always to visit Hanako. So, his face instinctively lit up when he saw you stumble into the bathroom- though he felt the color drain from his face when he saw your shakey figure. The color was drained from your face as well, he noted, as he quickly floated over to you.

“(Y/N)?? What’s wrong?” He questioned, pushing the hair from your face, getting a good look at your face. He was already positive you didn’t feel well. He just needed to know how- then, he could help. Surely, he could do something.

“I… I dunno- my stomach hurts, haha… really badly.”

Before Hanako could question further- where did it hurt, what kind of pain- you stumbled into a stall, spilling any contents that were in your stomach into the toilet. Instinctively, Hanako cringed a bit- quickly, he shook the queasy feeling he got off, and stepped over to you, rubbing your back carefully.

When you looked up at Hanako, tears running down your face, he instantly feared the worst.

“Please get a teacher, or Yashiro, or- someone,” You told him, arms securing themselves around your stomach. Hanako quickly nodded, rushing as quickly down the hallway as he could. He wasn’t a doctor, for Pete’s sake- not even close to it. So, he practically flung himself into Yashiro’s classroom, shouting at her from the doorway.

“YASHIRO, (Y/N)’S IN A LOT OF PAIN!!”

Hanako could only ring his hands nervously for a moment, as Yashiro asked the teacher to be excused, floating anxiously beside her for a moment, then rushing back to you when she explained that she was going to get a teacher- thinking for a split moment, as he explained to her that you already threw up. To that, Yashiro nodded, telling Hanako that she’d be sure to make sure your guardians were contacted.

Once he reentered the bathroom, Hanako’s nerves were at a new worst state. His eyes landed on you, practically curled up next to the toilet, sniffling to yourself- he was sure he never wanted to help anyone so badly. He was sure that, if he could, he would take your pain.

“Yashiro’s getting a teacher, (Y/N). A-are you feeling any better?” You shook your head, glancing up at the ghost boy. Your face was slightly flushed with what he was sure was a fever, and your eyebrows were furrowed in clear desperation and pain. All he wanted to do was help.

“I feel like I’m dying…”

Dying. The word “dying” stuck out, striking at Hanako’s nerves as if they weren’t already being tested. You felt like you were dying? Were you?? He sat in front of you, hands shaking violently as he attempted to seem calm. You couldn’t die. No- no, the teacher would come. You would live, wouldn’t you? You weren’t going to die… right?

“It’s okay, (Y/N)- you’ll be okay,” He spoke, rubbing your shoulders gently and placing a soft kiss to your forehead, half trying to convince himself. As he continued to do so, the teacher entered the bathroom, knocking on the stall- though the door creaked open, as you hadn’t had the time to shut and lock it. It wasn’t as if you needed to- the nausea was simply overwhelming.

“(Y/N)? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I’m having really bad stomach pains… I threw up- it hurts to talk,” You muttered, glancing up at the teacher, giving them the same pained look you gave Hanako. They crouched next to you, placing a hand against your forehead, then nodding.

“Where does it hurt?”

Clearly not wanting to move, you sniffled, forcing yourself to sit back just enough to motion around your lower-right abdomen. As if it clicked, the teacher nodded, letting you fall back into the position you were previously in. “I have no room to say for sure, but it does sound like appendicitis. Your parents are on the way, and I’ll let them know to take you over to the hospital.”

Your grip on yourself tightened a bit, panic showing up in your face. Seeing that panic, Hanako could only fear the worst. He knew vaguely of appendicitis, sure- how likely was someone to die from it-?? If your appendix ruptured, he knew it was dire. Did it? How long did it take for an appendix to rupture? Before he could even acknowledge the thoughts running through his mind, the teacher lifted you up, carrying you out of the room.

Though Hanako followed, he was left standing at the doors of the school when your guardian carried you away. The final bell rang, all of the students finally emptying out of the school, as the car you were in drove away. He watched until it was out of sight, silently noting that it must have been the direction of the hospital.

The first few days were practically torture for Hanako. Yashiro’s comments didn’t help- her saying that you went into surgery only worsened his fears. During his lifetime, surgery was… unpleasant, to say the least. They could do it- you could certainly have your appendix removed, but- but what if something went wrong? How had things changed since he lived…? Had it ruptured, were you going to live? What if you died during recovery?

He couldn’t stand it. No, until several weeks passed, Hanako was a nervous wreck. The relief that washed through him when he saw you walking through the school halls was almost comical- that is, if he wasn’t clinging to you like he really had almost lost you.

“(Y/N)... I’m so glad to see you again.”

“Hanako, I’m so glad to see you too. Sorry for scaring you like that… but thanks for sticking with me.”

Of course, Hanako could only accept the praise, unsure how to word “I stuck with you because I didn’t want you to die alone.”

tsukasa yugi <3

Tsukasa, most were sure, wouldn’t necessarily… care if someone around him died. No, he probably loved the pained expressions of someone taking their last breaths. If it was a messy death? It would be better for him, right? Screams of pain, tears streaming down someone’s face, blood splattered around. Natsuhiko half joked that it would be a dream for Tsukasa, no matter if everyone else considered it a nightmare. Sakura remained quiet, shaking her head slightly. You… disagreed, as if protecting Tsukasa. Maybe he wouldn’t… as eerie as your boyfriend could be at times, you loved him nonetheless- and you were sure you didn’t fall for someone who would… enjoy…… others’ pain…?

Hm…

Either way! You were sure you didn’t fall for someone who would enjoy your pain!!!

Those thoughts were just that- little thoughts you had. Thrown into a few conversations between the fellow people who frequented the broadcasting room. Nothing you really wanted to prove, you know? No, you’d rather assume it, and not go through anything particularly painful to prove it.

However, those weren’t necessarily your thoughts as you tripped over the rug, one of Sakura’s tea sets in your hands. The hot tea in them went flying, landing all over you- but, that wasn’t really your focus, as you landed with a harsh thud. The glass cracked underneath you, the uncomfortable sound of shattering filling the room- accompanied by your scream- at first being echoed because of the fright of following, but being finished off because of the feeling of glass splintering you as if you were the fragile object.

Your scream ended in a cry, tears quickly clouding your vision as the sharp pain coursed through every spot the glass had harmed. Sakura’s eyes went wide, and she stood up, aiming to walk over and help you- Natsuhiko did the same, exclaiming your name once he saw you began to fall, a bit quicker than Sakura was- Mitsuba could only stare, as if his fight or flight was activated. Before any of them could reach you, Tsukasa was there, shouting your name and cupping your face.

Tsukasa wasn’t bothered by the blood, as if he could be bothered by any blood, pure worry crossing his face. It was a rare sight- Tsukasa genuinely concerned- but it wasn’t like seeing a bloody (Y/N) on the floor was exactly common. It was no one's focus, as the other three finally were gathered around you. Protectively, nearly forgetting your injuries, Tsukasa held your head to his chest- glaring at the others.

“Go get a nurse!! (Y/N)’s bleeding-!”

Natsuhiko nodded, rushing off, as Mitsuba glanced around panickedly- Sakura pushed Tsukasa away from you slightly, as if to let him know to be careful. His hands wandered to your arms, holding them carefully, peering at the glass, then up at the tears streaming down your face.

“Don’t pull out the glass. It could make the bleeding worse, and we can’t be sure where all the glass has landed. Especially in their arms.”

Tsukasa nodded a bit, glancing at his hand when one of your tears landed on it. He ignored the blood dripping onto his palms, quietly licking the tear that fell onto the back of his hand. That wasn’t enough to distract you though- he half hoped he could take away your pain, but was discouraged to only be met with your shaky sobs. His eyes wandered along the shards sticking out of your arms. Dangerously close to places he knew they couldn’t scratch- an artery, he knew, would be beyond dangerous… what if, when the glass gets pulled out, you’re met with the spewing blood that comes with a punctured artery? Looking around at the blood dripping everywhere- were you… dying?

Tsukasa froze up a bit. (Y/N)? Dying?

Well, he was dead… Amane was dead. Mitsuba was dead. But… what would happen when you died?

Would you become a ghost? Or would death be the final separation for the two of you- would Tsukasa be trapped on earth, while you moved on to whatever afterlife there was??

“(Y/N) can’t die,” was his only thought, as Natsuhiko returned, gently explaining that he was going to carry you to the nurse- then, your guardian could come at take you to the hospital. However, once Natsuhiko’s arms wrapped around your torso, Tsukasa grabbed Natsuhiko’s closest arm. “I- I can take care of them. I’ll carry, (Y/N).” “Runt, you’re a ghost. For real, don’t screw around. Let me carry them, hurry now,” He spoke, lifting you up. Tsukasa stood, balling his hands up slightly nervously. Oh, a nervous Tsukasa… it was also such a strange sight- watching Natsuhiko speedwalk with you in his arms, Tsukasa floating alongside them. In fact, Tsukasa remained with the both of you- holding your arms carefully, until you were entering the car, towels placed around you to keep the blood from spilling anywhere. He watched the car drive off, unsure how to process anything.

The next several days were… difficult for Tsukasa. He wasn’t sure how to deal with it, yet he found himself peering into your classroom to see if flowers sat on your desk. He found himself paying closer attention to the rumors spread- listening carefully for anything that sounded similar to you. He wandered the halls, as if he suddenly lost his purpose- keeping an extra eye out for a person, or ghost, with cuts from shards of glass littering their body.

Tsukasa was his… clingy self when you returned. He hugged you as tightly as he could, not wanting to release even when you warned him about your still healing arms. He placed countless kisses to your face, giggling out that he was so sure you were going to die. Even when you questioned his thoughts, Tsukasa continued on, kissing the scars, scabs, and few stitches on your body. Yes, he really was glad that you were alive. Be it for selfish reasons or selfless ones, he couldn’t be sure- he just knew he was glad.