#anyways time to figure out. Transformers tags.

[lattefo4m]

Microwave..... Microwave save me...

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

"unicron" being a serious term in transformers lore is bringing me back to my blue sky days. guy with a cigarette looking out the window. i havent heard that name in 84 years

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 5

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut, POV Second Person, No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon What Canon

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Not proofread!! Holy moly. Here it is, folks. The scene that inspired this whole fic. I had fun writing this so I really hope you enjoy it. Once again, I appreciate everyone who likes, comments, and/or leaves kudos so much. I really started this fic for myself but good golly, that dopamine rush whenever I get a notif might be more addicting than spice. I'm glad to be part of the bald man brigade.

Also, I can't believe I'm only now questioning why I decided to write this in the second person? I guess maybe I thought this fic would be a lot shorter and not that deep, lol. At this point 'y/n' probably has enough personality to just be a straight-up OC. It's funnier because I don't even find second-person or y/n fics any more engaging either. I always detach myself by giving 'y/n' her own name and only seeing her as a character in the fic.

ANYWAY, sorry to ramble. Stay safe and have a good one, ya weirdos.

You step out into the dark cul-de-sac of the guest hall, illuminated only by the large suspensor lamp in the middle. Feyd-Rautha looks you up and down, seemingly entranced by how the dim light casts his shadow on your modest dress. Atreides green, he recognized.

"Trying to sneak into my rooms again?" you say arms crossed, leaning on your door. "I didn't appreciate the last time, by the way."

"It's my house," he says cooly, "and I did knock this time."

You stare at him indifferently.

"Quite the display from you yesterday morning, using The Voice on me." His voice low and raspy, "I should have you drawn and quartered."

You scoff in his face. "You almost choked me to death. Are you trying to start a war?"

He takes a step closer and his face is inches from yours, you can feel his breath on your cheek, "I didn't think I'd like you this much, little hawk."

"What do you want, Feyd-Rautha?" you had no patience for him right now.

"Ah," he steps back, a dark smile on his face, "I've been waiting to hear my name from your tongue." His hand reaches for your lips. "I've grown quite tired of 'na-Baron'."

You grab his wrist before he can touch you. "If you're only here to toy with me, I would rather be left alone to prepare for bed." You release his hand and turn to open your door.

Feyd-Rautha props an arm against the doorway to block you. "We're to be married in three days," he says, "and I just can't seem to bring myself to let go of my 'harpies', as you called them." He meets your gaze. "You said you'd kill them. Did you mean that?"

You look up at him with steely eyes. He towered over you but your heart felt no fear, "Yes."

His coy smile returns. "Good. Come to my training hall tomorrow," he says, walking away.

"What?" you call after him.

"Dress to fight," he says over his shoulder. "I want to see what you can do, Atreides."

You needed no help from Zora in putting on a loose shirt and long pants. The plain beige outfit certainly wasn't as elegant as the dresses you had been wearing so far. But it was comfortable and you could fight in it, which was all that mattered. Still, you look yourself in the mirror. The soft, airy fabrics draped over your figure well but perhaps you were not in the best shape as you once were. Your muscle mass is much less than your brother's and he wasn't particularly built himself. You admit you did wane off your training sessions with Gurney and Paul leading up to your departure from Caladan. Nevertheless, you were still a skilled warrior. Another secret you've been keeping from the Harkonnens.

You were 14 when you started learning the blade. Watching Paul, 2 years your senior, practice with the Atreides Warmaster lit a fire in you. You didn't hesitate to pester your father to let you train with them and of course, there was nothing he could deny his darling daughter. You were a fierce and determined student. Gurney Halleck was a man you genuinely believed to be one of the best fighters in the Imperium, along with Duncan Idaho. Gurney would train you and Paul on even days. On odd days, your mother would teach you the Weirding Way. These lessons, much like the rest of your mother's teachings, your father wanted to know nothing about. After becoming decently adept at Prana-Bindu and gaining almost complete physical control of your body, Lady Jessica insisted that you also be skilled in the Bene Gesserit style of combat.

You were far from mastery in either but the combination of both trainings made you a formidable fighter. Despite this, you could never seem to beat your brother in a sparring match. A fact that frustrated you to no end, though you appreciated that Paul never went easy on you. You'd always blame it on him having trained for longer than you have. But in truth, you knew there had just always been something special about him.

"Are you ready, my lady?" Zora's soft voice wakes you from your thoughts.

"Hm? Right. Yes, let's go." You quickly tie your hair out of the way and grab your father's dagger from atop your dresser.

There was no fanfare when you entered the hall. On one end, the na-Baron's concubines sat chained on the steps of the shallow recessed pit in their leathers, their glares piercing through you. Your eyes linger on them as Feyd-Rautha and his Warmaster greet you.

"I was starting to think my lady bride was bluffing," Feyd-Rautha says as you approach him. The older man beside him offers you a polite bow.

"Perhaps she wasn't so keen on your brutish games," you bite back. "Your lord uncle won't be joining us?"

"No," Feyd-Rautha crosses his arms, "but he'll be hearing about your victory. Or your demise."

"Right. Well, I assume you'll be releasing them from those chains," you nod towards his pets "Not sure why they're necessary."

"Oh, trust me, little hawk. They're necessary." Feyd-Rautha motions to a servant.

"Your blade and shield, my lady," they bow, presenting you with a knife and a small device you recognize as a Holtzman shield.

"I've brought my own," you unsheath your father's dagger. You contemplate taking the shield but remembering that the na-Baron forwent it during his gladiator fight, you decide to do so as well. "They've no weapons anyway, the shield seems pointless."

Feyd-Rautha shrugs, "If you insist."

You take a deep breath, "Let's get this over with."

You lightly stretch as you walk down the steps of the shallow pit to stand opposite the na-Baron's concubines. You had come into this on the pretense of righteousness. For Iassa, you told yourself. But you've known her a mere two days. A part of you wanted to show off. You were good and you knew it. You could probably kill anyone in this room, even Feyd-Rautha. You craved the respect of the people here: the Harkonnens, the people of Geidi Prime. You figured this was one way to get it.

Feyd-Rautha walks around the pit to one of his concubines and kneels to whisper something in her ear. You assume a fighting stance when he moves to release her from the chains. When you meet her eyes, they are filled with feral bloodlust.

Suddenly, you weren't so bold. The veil of courage you have maintained since you arrived, even when Feyd-Rautha had your neck in his grip, is torn apart when you face this woman. You could tell no part of her would hesitate to rip your throat out with her bare teeth. You were almost relieved they were unarmed, but you weren't sure if that would make them any less lethal.

Fear grew in your chest and you had less than a moment to recite the Litany in your head before the concubine lunged at you.

You crouch down in time and slash at her abdomen as she approaches you. You turn to face her on the other side of the pit and she wastes no time in attacking you again. She attempts to grab your armed hand but you take hold of her wrist first and move to pin it behind her back. Quickly, your blade drags across her throat and she falls to your feet.

The kill has not yet registered in your mind but your heart is racing. You can almost hear your blood coursing through your veins. You held your arms outstretched, your eyes focused ahead, ready for the next one.

Across the pit, Feyd-Rautha licks his lips, smiling as he releases his second concubine. This time, you walk toward her while she moves to attack you. You clock her head with the pommel of your dagger and knock her a few steps back. She reaches a hand to wipe the blood beginning to drip out of her nose. After examining it, she snarls and bares her sharp teeth at you. Your mind is blank now. She dodges your first slash then manages to land a blow to your jaw. You seethe from the pain. You spit out the mixture of blood and saliva filling your mouth. The anger at the hit drives you to rush at her. Seeing an opening, you duck down to her waist and stab her twice. As she falls to her knees, the look of determination doesn't leave her eyes until the very last moment.

When you turn around, Feyd-Rautha has already released the last concubine. The ruthless scream she lets out disorients you. She pounces and knocks you over. She straddles you and pins your arms to the ground, your blade sliding inches away. She screams again in your face at the death of her sisters. You wedge your right knee between you and her abdomen, the only thing keeping her teeth from reaching your throat. You grunt as you struggle to free your hands. In your periphery, you see Feyd-Rautha, wielding his own blade, take a step into the pit.

"GET BACK," you roar, and he is powerless to refuse.

You turn back to your opponent still on top of you and you butt her head with your own. She loosens her grip and you kick her off to hastily crawl to your weapon. When she reorients herself and attempts to grab you again, you hook a knee under her arm and flip the both of you over. With your weight on her chest and both your knees pinning her arms down, she thrashes underneath you, claws digging into your right ankle. You take your blade in both hands and her screaming is silenced when you sink your knife deep into her heart.

When you rise, the room is quiet. Your chest heaves. The stark white ceiling lights don't help the lightheadedness that begins to wash over you in the post-adrenaline rush. Feyd-Rautha says something from behind you but his speech is garbled as you reel from the thrill of what just transpired. You were electrified. You almost... wanted more.

Then, the realization of the revolting scene you are in settles upon you and you are knocked off your high. You look at the leather-clad bodies scattered around you, the grotesque way they lay on the floor, the red blood pooling around them made brighter by the sterile grayness of the room. You did this.

A hand on your shoulder snaps you out of it. In reflex, you turn and raise your blade at the offender.

Feyd-Rautha holds his hands up, "Whoa, easy, Atreides. Trying to kill me? Don't want to start a war, do you?"

You yield your weapon. Your eyes dodge his as you look to your feet and try to steady your breathing.

"Enjoy your first taste of blood?" Feyd-Rautha says, the look in his eyes indecipherable to you. He raises a hand and swipes his thumb on your cheek. It comes away covered in crimson.

You gasp and reach for your face with your own hand. You don't even know if it's your blood or theirs, or when it got on you. Your heart pounded, unable to decide whether you were repulsed or proud.

"Look at you," he says licking the red off his finger. You could not help but stare at him through the strands of your hair that had come undone in the fighting. "You're beautiful like this," his hand reaches for your face again.

"No," you say low and quiet when you swat his hand away, "you're sick." You didn't know if you meant him or yourself. You calmly turn to leave. No one stops you when you make your way up the shallow steps of the pit. As you pass Iassa—no, Zora—by the doorway, you tell her flatly, "Prepare a bath."

You had never taken a life before. Today, you took three. You were glad you didn't know their names. You decided you'd never find out.

After Zora pours a final pitcher of hot water into the bath, you tell her, "You may go. I'll dress myself later, thank you."

She bows and makes her way out of your rooms.

In your solitude, you bring your knees to your chest. You had been quick to wipe the blood off your cheek before you even reached your quarters. Now, you cup the water into your hands and rub it into your face, the slight sting of the heat comforting you.

He was a cruel man, your betrothed. This is what you've decided. Having you kill the concubines he claimed to want to keep so much. But wasn't it you who threatened to kill them? He started it, you argue with yourself, when he had Iassa killed. You felt like a child.

When you used to hear of Feyd-Rautha's exploits, you had to mask your disgust. And yet now, you had killed so easily in that pit as he had in the arena. What was this place doing to you?

When you left Caladan, Paul had never killed anyone either. You wonder if he ever does, would he feel the same exhilaration you did when you slit that first concubine's throat. No. Your brother was fierce but, like your father, he had a good heart. You beat him by three. You hoped it would stay that way.

You think about your future here, marrying Feyd-Rautha. Producing heir after heir under the Baron's watchful eye. You were a broodmare. Despite all your fancy training and education. Despite your little demonstration earlier. It was the bitter truth.

You missed home. You missed walking along the beach at night with your father. You missed your mother's gentle hands brushing your hair. You missed the banter and teasing with your brother. You missed Gurney, and Duncan, and the cold breeze on your balcony, and getting to roam free and going anywhere you pleased. When the tears come, you sink deep into the bath so they might fade away in the water.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore @bornslippys @vexis-world @aoi-targaryen @alexandrainlove @mamawiggers1980 @sstardussty @aboutthenabaron

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

Would you be making a Part 4 of the dancer and the angel🥺🥺

so many people have asked about this so I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to piece it together BUT it’s here so I hope you love it 🤍🤍

title: the dancer and the angel part 4

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: crying sucks and you needs somewhere to just let your hair down but when gigi goes missing, all hell breaks loose and things don’t stay exactly to plan

parts: part 1 part 2 part 3

warnings: SPOILERS FOR TGG, swearing

a/n: I’m dedicating this to @midiosaamor <33 ilysm belle thank you for your endless love for this fic, I’m so grateful 🤍🤍

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @notshortbutsweet @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31 @loveinalocket

YOUR POV

I’m tired of crying. Tears are overrated anyway.

I’m sat with Avery, my cheek resting against her shoulder, her head resting on top of mine. It’s peaceful. I can hear her soft steady breathing in my ear and it’s oddly comforting. Maybe it’s because I’m used to sleeping on Grayson’s chest and hearing him breathe so rhythmically.

I need to get him out of my head. His stupidly perfect face is the only image running through my mind. That angular jawline, those velvety lips and those silver eyes that made me melt every damn time. Every inch of him is too engraved in my soul to get rid of him so quickly.

“Let’s go somewhere,” Avery says suddenly, like she’s been reading my mind this whole time.

“We’re on a secluded island,” I scoff.

“And I happen to be a billionaire who owns many modes of transport,” she winks at me, helping me to my feet.

“You wouldn’t,” I say.

“I already have,” she winks, “there’s a helicopter that should be showing up in about…” she trails off checking her watch, “five minutes.”

“You’re joking!” I gape.

“Do I look like the kind of girl to joke about ordering a helicopter?” she asks, raising her eyebrows.

No. No she does not.

***

We arrive at our destination thirty short minutes later via helicopter of course. And as if by magical transformation we’d gotten changed into some variant of sparkly party dresses inside, a sentence I never thought I’d ever say aloud. We walk down a cobbled alleyway towards a tall establishment.

“A club?” I say tilting my head to the side.

“A club,” she nods.

“I’ve never been to a club before,” I admit, feeling a little nervous.

“Neither,” she shrugs, “but there’s a first time for everything right.”

“Right…” I trail off.

She takes my hand eagerly and together we walk in. Lights flash, music pulsates and my ear drums nearly burst. It’s so lively, so upbeat, so full. People are grabbing drinks, making out, dancing and all the in between.

Avery glances at me, “drink or dance?”

“Drink,” I don’t hesitate, having already spotted the bar, “please.”

“You got it,” she grins, linking her arm into mine as we go over, weaving between throngs of half drunk sweaty bodies.

The bartender offers us a welcoming smile, “what can I get you two ladies tonight?”

“Vodka martini dry with a twist,” I reply, the order bitter on my tongue when I remember how Gray and I would usually order these together.

I feel so pathetic. Linking everything to him, but I couldn’t help it. He’s just there, but not properly. It’s like some sort of ghost of his has decided to haunt me for fun.

“And a mojito please,” Avery says, forcing me out of my thoughts.

He nods sharply and turns to make our drinks. I fiddle with my necklace trying to figure out how I feel in this very moment. A weird mix of emotions are settled heavily on my chest. Notes of sadness and bitterness, building up anger and fury as well as a pathetic self pity and loneliness. I don’t like that none of the feelings are definitive, it makes me uncomfortable. I don’t know how to be, my brain is too preoccupied trying to work out what emotion to act on.

The bartender hands me my drink. I take a long sip closing my eyes as the flavours hit my tongue. The sharp burst of lemon mixed with the kick of hard vodka feels like someone is slapping me across the face. I’ve never felt more awake.

“How’s the martini,” Avery asks.

“Much needed,” I smile, “your mojito?”

“Divine,” she replies taking another sip.

“Never pictured you as a mojito girl Ave,” I mention leaning against the bar and surveying the room.

“Jamie got me into them when we went to Greece,” she replies naturally.

A sinking sensation hits my stomach, I know it shouldn’t. She’s been with Jameson forever it shouldn’t hurt. They were beautiful people with beautiful souls that belonged to each other. So why is it suddenly so hard to digest? I knew about their trip to Greece, heck I’d helped them plan it. But Avery mentioning Jameson sends this rippling pain through my upper chest. She loves him and he loves her. It’s the same both ways, they’re devoted, they’re each other’s everythings. And it reminds me of what I don’t have. I think I hide it well but she sees it on my face.

“Oh god I’m sorry I didn’t mean to bring up-“

“Hey it’s fine,” I shrug.

“That was so stupid of me,” she winces putting her drink down.

“Avery you don’t have tread on eggshells around me, it’s okay,“ I try and laugh it off, “no big deal.”

“Okay,” she replies, but I can see she still feels bad.

Neither of us say anything for a few beats until the music changes and I recognise the song.

“Oooo you love this song, come on,” she laughs, tugging my hands forwards.

I sigh, “I don’t know Avery, I’m not much of a dancer.”

Not like Lyra.

“Doesn’t matter,” she shrugs, swigging her mojito, “let’s let our hair down, have a bit of fun.”

“Fine,” I crack a smile.

She squeals excitedly, practically dragging me forwards as we fall on the dance floor. We move to the beat, hips swinging from side to side, arms in the air. I wish this could take it all away. I appreciate what she’s doing. But despite her best efforts I don’t think it’s working. This distraction, this attempt of respite isn’t hitting like it should. I feel buried under too many layers of him, each time I did myself out of the first in into another. And digging is exhausting.

“Why don’t you just kiss a random guy?” Avery says bringing me back to the present.

It takes me a few minutes to process what she’d just said and when I do I can’t form a response.

“How much of that mojito did you have?” I laugh.

“No seriously,” she says, a deadly true look in her eyes, “it might help you get… him out of your mind.”

“You can say Grayson,”I roll my eyes, playing it off coolly. I didn’t want her to know that this was affecting me this much, because it shouldn’t be.

“No,” she shakes her head, “the name holds too much power, he’ll get all in your head again.”

“He already is all in my head,” I tell her with a sigh.

“That’s why I’m saying,” she continues, “so just go and kiss someone for the hell of it.”

“How do I even go about doing that?” I say. I can’t believe the words are coming out of my mouth.

“I don’t know, never done it,” she shrugs with a wicked grin.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I reply.

“Who cares?” she laughs, “yolo.”

“Yolo? Since when do you say yolo?” I scoff, wondering if she is drunk or just spending too much time with Xander.

“Since now,” she sticks her tongue out.

“I could be kissing a serial killer,” I point out, “or an axe murderer.”

“I don’t think they’d murder you in front of everyone, it’d be a bit off brand for them,” Avery replies, “besides everyone would know who they were then. Do you really think they’d risk jail time to specifically murder you in a club? “

I think about it. Contemplate the idea of kissing someone else. Maybe she had a point, someone else’s lips on mine, hands in my hair… they won’t be his. I won’t have to associate those actions with him anymore. Would it hurt? It’s one stupid night and one stupid kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“You know what, you’re right, why the hell not,” I say suddenly.

Surprise flickers across her face for mere moments before she breaks out into a large smile.

“You get them girl!” she shouts.

I scan the room, or all the faces I could see at least. I spot someone. He’s fairly attractive. Dirty blonde, tanned, muscular. He didn’t look too old either. I couldn’t tell the colour of his eyes but from here they looked light. I hope he isn’t taken as I approach him.

“Hey,” I shout over the music.

“Hi,” he shoots me a smile.

It’s in that moment I realise how unprepared I am for this. Why did I think this was a good idea? How do you just kiss someone?

So I blurt out the only thing in my mind, “do you want to kiss me?”

“What?” he replies.

I feel like an idiot but I say it again, “do you want to kiss me?”

“I can’t hear you love, speak up,” he yells.

I don’t know what comes over me but I just grab his face and kiss him. It’s probably the most impulsive thing I’ve ever done. But he doesn’t pull away, in fact he kisses back. His lips are rougher than what I’m used to and he’s a more aggressive kisser. When his hands hold the small of my back it’s more like he’s grappling onto my body than holding me gently. This didn’t feel as natural, as tentative, as loving as when Grayson kisses me.

“Well that was quite something huh?” the man smiles as I pull away.

Maybe for you I want to say, but I bite my tongue.

“Fancy doing it again?” he asks.

“Maybe another time,” I force a smile, walking away.

He doesn’t follow much to my relief. I’d chosen someone who wasn’t a serial killer at least. I make my way back to Avery who pretends she didn’t see the whole altercation to save my dignity. Though she’s very bad at hiding it.

“I know you saw,” I sing song, giggling a little.

“You went for it girl,” she says eyebrows raised.

“I did,” I nod, chewing my bottom lip tentatively.

“And?” she prompts me. I don’t know what she wants to hear. So I tell her the truth.

“It’s not the same,” I shrug.

“It won’t be but sometimes that helps you get over it,” she replies.

“It’s not working,” I sigh, “also he tasted like beer and that was gross.”

She scrunches up her face, “oh ew,”

“Yeah 100% ew,” I agree wrinkling my nose as I still taste the residue of it on my lips.

She senses how I feel even though I don’t quite know what it is I’m feeling, “you want to get some air?” she asks.

I nod, feeling that my cheeks were flushed and my everything was sweating. Hand in hand we swim upstream through dozens of people before we reach the door. The cold night’s air hits us as we slump down onto the pavement. I take a deep breath in, closing my eyes tasting the fresh air in my lungs.

“Well that was a bust,” Avery sighs.

“Not completely,” I tell her, “the dancing was fun.”

“But you’re still thinking about him, aren’t you?” she replies. It’s a question that she already knows the answer to.

“How can I not?” I say, leaning my head against the back wall and looking up at the sky.

“I don’t know,” she replies sadly.

Silence envelopes us, swallowing us whole like a whale shark to plankton. A thought recurs in my brain like an annoying decimal that wasn’t supposed to be the answer. I keep thinking, if someone had told my yesterday self that I would be here today I never would’ve believed it. Hours ago he was my person, the one. And now? Now what? I was in a club kissing some random trying to get over him. Trying and pathetically failing. How can I still love him? After all of it, how is it possible?

“That guy I kissed, it just reminded me of how I don’t have him to do that with anymore and I never will,” I say, glancing at Avery.

“Do you still love him?” she asks me, some sort of morphed pain and pity bleeding through her eyes.

“Of course,” I reply with no hesitation, “I’ve always loved him, it’s always been him and I can’t stop now, I’m in too deep. But I have to make myself.”

She gently pulls my body into her arms, “this will get easier, it’s still the first night. The feelings are fresh, the wounds are new and they need time to heal.”

“I just don’t understand,” I whisper, “I love him so much my heart bleeds but he never felt it back that same kind of love… and I was stupid enough to think he did.”

“I think he did,” she murmurs, “I really do.”

“You don’t have to do that, you can be honest,” I say softly, “it’s not like it can hurt anymore.”

“I’m serious I promise,” she replies, “you don’t see it as clearly we do. When you came into Gray’s life he changed in the best possible way. I mean I’ve not known him as long as his brother but I saw it. And they definitely did. He wasn’t the same, he was in love. I know it.”

“He kissed another girl,” I laugh bitterly.

“It doesn’t mean to say he never loved you like that,” she says.

“Suppose so,” I mumble into her.

“And for the record he was an absolute idiot for doing what he did,” she replies, a flicker of anger I wasn’t used to in Avery sparking for a fraction of a second, “actually there’s a list of words I would use that are way worse than idiot but we’ll keep it PG tonight.”

I crack a weak smile.

She softens her tone, “But seriously sweetie he’s losing the best thing he’s ever had in his life.”

“But Avery,” I say, my voice shaking, “I’m not sure I want to be lost.”

She hugs me tighter. There are no words that can fix my state we’ve both silently agreed, so she hold me as I stare up at the stars. Some glow, some twinkle, others gleam. Then they all blur as water fills my eyes. I blink away the lousy tears. I’m not going to cry.

“Avery…” I murmur hesitantly “can I ask you something?”

“Yeah sure,” she nods.

The questions are so weighted on my chest, it’s physically hurting me, “why do you think he chose her? What did I do wrong? What does she have that I don’t?”

“Oh sweetheart,” she murmurs sympathetically, “it’s not like that.”

“Then why,” I choke, trying to keep my tears at bay, “why would he…”

I trail off, the tears I was trying to express rolling down my face. The sobs get stuck in my throat and I’m unable to make a sound. I silently shake in Avery’s grasp, my lungs aching.

“You cannot sit here and think you are the reason for this. I won’t let you,” she shakes her head, “I don’t know why he did what he did, that I can’t tell you, but I do know for sure that it wasn’t you. You have no faults, you did nothing wrong, you’re beautiful, you’re brilliant, you’re smart and brave and kind and perfect. He’s the biggest fool of them all.”

“You think?” I snivel.

“I know,” she says, wiping away my tears with a gentle hand, “now come on, let’s go back in, have one final shot and a dance and then we’ll hit the streets at midnight, do something crazy fun and stupid, no murder please, and just breathe a little you know, forgetting all of this.”

“Okay,” I nod, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent more tears from spilling over.

I am strong. I am strong. I am strong

She stands up and dusts her little dress off before hoisting me up behind. She flashes a smile my way that reminds me of Jameson for a split second. I eagerly take her hand and we re enter. The lights feel as if they’re flashing brighter than before. The fluorescence stings slightly. The familiar aroma of sweat mixed with all manner of alcoholic drinks hits us as well.

Just as we’ve reached the dance floor Avery says, “Jamie’s calling, give me a second.”

She rushes off out of the back door, probably to hear him better, leaving me alone on the dance floor. I don’t really feel much like dancing so lazily drag my feet to the bar and take another shot. The liquid burns my throat and I feel somewhat alive as I slowly swing my hips and move my arms to whatever beat is playing.

I feel dead. I don’t understand how in the space of mere minutes I can go from feeling so emotive, so distraught, so melancholy to nothingness. A wave of coldness from empty voids and bottomless pits.

I hand touches my shoulder and I jolt as the unfamiliar touch makes me jump. I look up to see a man stood there, but he’s a little fuzzy. The alcohol is getting to my head.

“You alone sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. The word cuts like a poisoned blade. Grayson calls me that.

“No,” I respond calmly, positioning my back more towards him, hoping he’ll gage my body language and kindly leave me be.

“Well you’re very pretty,” he grins, flashing white teeth I’m sure he paid a lot for.

“I’m sure my boyfriend would agree with you,” I say coolly.

“Which one’s yours then?” he asks, clearly still not catching onto the several messages I’m sending him.

I shrug, “why do you care?”

“Maybe you’re wasting your time on him,” he smiles. Something about the smile makes goosebumps rise on the surface of my skin and an icy shiver run down my spine. Something about him isn’t right and I didn’t like it.

“I highly doubt it,” I reply nonchalantly, “but thanks for the offer.”

“Come on sweetheart,” he says, making my skin crawl, “you can ditch your boyfriend for a night, I promise I’ll be better. Ask anyone in here.”

My stomach twists and something goes off in me. Like a ticking time bomb that’s finally hit zero.

“Look here mister,” I snarl, “there’s hundreds of other women in this place that would love to get into your bed, find one and do it, but leave me alone. I’m not interested and I’m taken.”

“You heard her Dex, back off,” shouts a new voice.

I look up to see another man, with a striking resemblance to the one I was talking to, behind him. Brothers, I infer silently. Dex glares at his brother and then turns back to me.

“Okay, until next time then,” he says with a wink.

He skulks away as I roll my eyes. I go to turn back to my drink when Avery comes crashing into me. I gasp audibly before I catch a glance at her. She looks pale.

“What? What’s wrong?” I ask quickly, checking over her to make sure she was physically in tact.

“We have to cut our trip short,” she tells me, regret and apology lacing her tone.

My heart thumps in my chest and a million thoughts race through my mind.

“Gigi’s missing.”

And suddenly I’m very very sober.

***

LYRA’S POV

Finding out he was with someone else made me feel sick to my stomach. I can’t explain it exactly. It’s just this horrible awful tug in the gut. I am the other woman. I shiver at the thought.

I thought everything was going to be okay, that for a change, life might be on my side. I deserve it don’t I? To be happy, to be free, to be in love. I thought wrong. I always think wrong. I am the fool of a flower that let her pretty petals be plucked by anyone who pleased until she became a stem. Until no one wanted her. The tender truth of it all burns violently all over my skin.

So I dance.

Dance is my way to escape all of this, my freedom. The music begins and my heart aches louder, screaming in my ears. The pain coursing through my limbs that delicately dust the empty air. I reach out to touch something that doesn’t exist. I relax into a deep plié letting the music seep through my throbbing soul and form the moves. I do a gentle three step turn on pointe and the pace of the music picks up.

I hurt an innocent girl, who fell under the same loving spell that Hawthorne’s are so good at casting as I did. But I didn’t know. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. How was I supposed to know? I thought he looked at me differently, I thought his gentle touch he only used for me, I thought his words were mine to cherish. But I’m just another trophy in his grand cabinet. Another meaningless prize to collect on the journey to greatness.

I developpé sauté to perfection. I am nothing to him. And now, he’s even less to me. I pirouette and pirouette and pirouette, spiralling into furious thoughts. I’m angry. How dare he turn me into someone I am not. Making me betray my own morals. As if he has that right, that power. Men always feel so entitled, so deserving of power. He couldn’t just have one girl and be happy, no he had to find another. He had to act of his greed, the fatal flaw that poisons so many men. How many more will fall into greed’s bloodied hands?

I grand jeté until my thighs burn but I keep perfect positioning. I hate the fact that I’m feeling so deeply, that my emotions are so raw and intense. It’s too much for my mind to take, I’m so overwhelmed and head is splitting, pounding, screaming. My breath picks up the more grande jetès I do. My chest is so tight, so constricted, so suppressed. It feels as if an invisible force is choking me. I come to a halt suddenly and find myself paralysed in an arabesque, unable to breathe.

The music has silenced. Nothing dare move and the world comes to a standstill. I let myself get wrapped up in feelings I shouldn’t have had. I’m an idiot. Lyra Kane doesn’t fall in love, she doesn’t trust people with herself, she doesn’t let people in. Especially not Hawthornes. Never Hawthornes. I intricately move my feet. On pointe, pivot, flat, up, on pointe, down, in, out, over, up. At some point my mind hits a blank, a white room and I just move to what feels most natural. My mind doesn’t properly register the moves. I become aware I’m performing rapid battements and sissones when I’m deep in analysis. I should’ve seen the signs sooner.

The way he stared at her while we were dancing, the look of distraction and captivation in his eyes. The guilt that flashed across his face every time he got that little bit closer to me. The minute he had to take after our lift in the room we’d been locked in with Odette. It all made sense now.

My legs extend naturally as I leap with great height across the room. It was so pathetically unfair. Everything in his life is perfect, he’s got the money, the face, the family, the support. People would kill to be in his position, quite literally. And he takes it all for granted. God, how did I think I could love someone like that?

I travel with light and airy sauté passes. Everything to a Hawthorne is a game. Including people. I was his game. And he played me. Just like he played y/n. I only wish I could talk to her, tell her I understand how she feels but I’m probably the last face in this earth she’d ever want to see.

My movements are now sharp and staccato, jagged and uneven. The opposite of what a ballerina should be. Catherine Howal wouldn’t let me forget that if she were watching me today. My old dance teacher was always strict on me, but right now I missed the sharpness of her voice and her minor corrections. She made me the dancer I am today. I push the bittersweet memory of her away and my rage over Grayson bubbles over. Even his name now disgusts me. It used to be one that I craved to say, to feel my mouth curve in the shape of each and every letter. Now it’s just a reminder of my sheer revulsion for him.

I pirouette I don’t know how many time on pointe. I’m dizzy, but not from the turns but from the idea that I let myself be so easily tempted by a pretty face. I begin a fast paced sequence of fouettés and chainés across the space, desperately trying to hold myself together. I’m poised, I’m professional is what I try to tell myself. If only I had known, I wouldn’t have. Ever. I wouldn’t have even looking into those stupid gray eyes. But he knew, he knew how to manipulate my feelings, he knew what he had the power to do. I was a marionette that obeyed every string he pulled without even knowing it. He lead me on. He had a girlfriend and he lead me on. Why did he lead me on?

God, he’s even more of a jerk than I’d given him credit for. Hawthornes never change. With this painful honest realisation my movements gradually return to more fluid and flowing motions, interspersed with slow gentle turns. It’s ruined, the moment we shared. It’s now tainted. How can I even imagine such a beautiful kiss without feeling regret? Without tasting the bitter aftertaste that coats my mouth even now? I pirouette for the final time, getting so lost with each spin I’ve lost count of how many I’ve done. It’s an everlasting void of blurry scenery and my messed up mind.

I collapse into a helpless heap on the floor, finishing the routine. There is no fight left, no anger, no pain, no momentum. Just space. The little girl in her ballet flats is long gone. The teenager locking her pointe shoes away has also disappeared. The woman who lent her heart to a Hawthorne for far too long will never return again. Every part of me is lost. I’m not sure I even know who I am anymore. All I know is that, the dancer in me is broken.

***

YOUR POV

“Any word?” I rush in, Avery close beside me.

“We need to know everything,” she says, dominance in her tone.

We had arrived back on the island practically in a flash. My head is all over the place, jumbled with attempts to remember things that could help us find Gigi. My heart dropped when I found out. We couldn’t lose out Gigi.

“Y/n!” Xander exclaims.

He looks in shock to see me, both burnt and unburnt eyebrows raised, jaw dropped. Jameson wears a similar expression and so does Nash. It’s like they’ve seen a ghost.

“Yeah?” I reply bluntly.

“You’re here,” he says, eyes bulging.

“Unless I’ve magically become a hologram in the past 2 minutes,” I say looking at my watch, “yeah I’m here.”

“Right,” he nods slowly, before turning back to his computer.

“So Gigi,” Avery says, steering us back to the present.

“We’re just about to scout for her,” Jameson explains.

“And I’m attempting to search the security footage,” Xander calls, eyed glued to the screen.

“If someone kidnapped her wouldn’t they cut it?” I ask.

“The main footage has been cut but we’re Hawthornes,” Nash flashes a very Hawthorne grin, “there’s always a back up camera where they least expect it.”

“Unfortunately for us, it’s a very blurry back up camera,” Jameson grimaces.

“Oh,” Avery sighs.

“With horrible sound,” Nash adds.

“Fantastic,” I smile sarcastically, walking behind Xander to look at the screen.

They are right. The screen is black and white and pretty much the blurriest thing I’d ever seen. Our situation is looking quite dismal.

“I’m putting better back up security on my to do list,” Avery murmurs.

“I’ll second that,” Jameson says, kissing her cheek.

“We have to find her,” she says, leaning into him, “Jamie we have to.”

“I know heiress, we’re going to, don’t worry,” he soothes, giving her that look. The look that only men in love can master.

My heart feels sore and I turn. Then I realise why. The room suddenly feels so empty, so hollow. And I feel alone despite being surrounded by people. He’s not here. My head had been so caught up on my millions of thoughts that I hadn’t registered it.

“Where’s Grayson?” I ask out of the blue.

The whole room stands still. Everyone is frozen by a force I didn’t know existed until this moment. No one dare move, let alone breathe. A sickening chill rolls down my spine and I fear the worst.

“He’s outside,” Jameson finally says.

“He won’t move,” Nash adds quietly, looking down at the floor.

Xander sighs, “and we had to take the whiskey away from him.”

“You left him alone!” I yell, not meaning to sound so attacking.

“We didn’t know what else to do, he isn’t exactly a joy to be around right now and we need to find Gigi,” Jameson reasons.

“We thought it’d be best to focus on that, the sooner we get Gigi found, the sooner he’ll marginally snap out of dark era,” Nash explains further.

“I’m going to talk to him,” I reply, my tone sharp and definite. No one was going to tell me no.

Eyes snap up at me. All four pairs. I can read all of their emotions so clearly it’s painful. Elements of confusion, shock and pity wash over me, but I push it all to the side. What they thought didn’t matter.

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that…” Jameson trails off.

“No,” I tell him softly, “I do.”

He opens his mouth to argue.

“I can help him, you know that and so do I,” I say before he can get a word out, “so that’s what I’m going to do.”

***

He’s sat on the rocks, looking over the choppy water. The wind whips the hair across my face and back again. My cheeks grow rosy with the cold. He hurt me, but he’s hurting. I can’t let him hurt alone. As pathetic as it may be I physically can’t. Slowly I approach from behind. I know he can hear me but he doesn’t turn, he doesn’t even move a muscle. He just sits and stares.

I cautiously sit beside him, my legs hanging over the edge. The reflection of death’s face snickers at me in the water. Still, Grayson does not move. He remains a stationary block, robotic almost. I look towards at him and analyse his features. He’s sober. But oh lord is he broken. I turn away, any longer and I might’ve done something stupid.

“Are you okay?” I murmur, looking out to the moon kissed water miniature waves bobbing up and down.

“You’re asking me?” he almost scoffs. I can tell he’s been sobbing, his tone is thick and swollen with grief. It stings my soul, like antiseptic to a fresh wound.

“Why shouldn’t I?” I reply quietly.

“Because I hurt you,” he says, his voice barely a whisper.

“Just because someone hurts you doesn’t mean you have to hurt them too,” I respond, finally turning to look at him.

To my surprise his eyes are ready for me, already locked onto my every move. They meet and something washes over me, something that probably shouldn’t.

“How are you so kind?” he asks, something tender in his voice. It makes my soul squeeze.

“People need to be nicer to each other in this world,” I shrug in response.

“They do,” he says quietly, playing with his fingers.

“So,” I exhale, “are you okay?”

I already know the answer. He’s not. He’s filled with guilt and sorrow and hatred and anger and upset and conflict. He’s the furthest from okay you can get.

“Not really,” he breathes, “are you okay?”

“Not really,” I grin.

A ghost of a smile haunts his features. Who gave him the right to look so beautiful?

“Gigi will be okay,” I tell him confidently.

He shakes his head as pain constricts his features, “ we don’t know that.”

“She’s stronger than you think she is,” I reply quickly.

“She’s just a kid,” he growls.

“No, she’s not Gray,” I snapped fiercely, “she’s bold and she’s brave and she can handle herself, but we will find her, we won’t stop until we do.”

He stares at me. Eyes fixated, like I’m worthy of being looked at. My heart rate picks up and that’s when I realise that this is all wrong. I can’t be the idiot that lets him back in, I won’t be.

“What?” I ask.

He says nothing but his silver eyes still remained glued to mine.

“What is it Grayson?” I whispered, the wind barely carrying my words.

“I still love you.”

The words hit me like a tonne of bricks. I can’t respond. All the air is knocked out of me. His hand is in my chest and wrapped around my heart. He’s squeezed it between his fingertips and licked my blood greedily from his fingers. He stills loves me. And I know I still love him too, but I can’t say that. I won’t.

“How can I trust you?” I scoff, letting my rage take hold. It’s better than my love.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs softly. Did his voice have to be so soft?

“Fool me once, shame on you,” I state, “fool me twice, shame on me.”

“I’m sorry,” he tells me. I can hear he means it, I can see he means it but I can’t believe it. He was too good of a liar before, too talented of an actor. I can’t afford to fall for it again.

“Sorry isn’t good enough,” I press on.

“I know…” he trails off, voice hoarse, “but I don’t know what other words to say.”

“Then don’t say anything,” I snap, shooting him a fiery look.

“But I love you,” Grayson says, too much emotion decorating his tone.

“If you loved me you wouldn’t have kissed her,” I say, throwing it all back in his face. He needed to face the truth and so did I.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to love me too, but I need you to know and hear it from my lips that I love you,” he confesses, his eyes not wavering for a second, pinning me down with their addictive nature. It feels like my hands are tied. I’m a prisoner to those eyes. I always have been.

“I’ve heard it from your lips a thousand times before today and you still did what you did,” I spit back, the words rolling from my tongue before I gave them permission to.

He falters, there’s no words left to say.

“I want you to be happy, that’s all I care about,” I tell him, my tone still slightly jagged, “so drop the guilt, I forgive you. But things can’t go back to how they were, not after this.”

They are all lies. Every single sentence. I’m avoiding the truth beating so loudly in my chest. I’m ignoring its petulant screaming. I’m such a hypocrite. I loathe him for his lies and then I return them with my own tongue.

“How can I drop the guilt when it’s all I know now?” he murmurs.

“You’ll find a way, you’re stronger than you think Grayson. You doubt yourself too often,” I sigh.

He doesn’t say anything for a while, but runs a hand through his hair, then over his face. After one too many best of silence he turns to me one final time.

“Why are you so good?” he asks me.

“It’s not a question of good or bad it’s a question of what���s right,” I say impatiently, “I’m not going to just sit here and let you wallow because that’s not you Grayson and you know it.”

“You’re an angel,” he murmurs, almost in a daze.

But you chose the dancer. The words are on the tip of my tongue but I don’t say them.

“No time for flattery, we’re wasting time,” I sigh, “let’s go and find Gigi.”

***

GRAYSON’S POV

We search for four hours straight until all of us are too exhausted to speak. We need to sleep, though we’re all too stubborn to admit it. As a collective we decide half of us are to get some rest whilst the other half stay up two more hours, then we’ll switch. I take the first shift, searching with Jameson. Xander is still inside still attempting decipher the body on the mini security camera or placement of Gigi’s phone and everyone else has gone to sleep.

Jameson and I are on the edge of the island, calling for Gigi with raw throats and pounding heads. I can’t believe I’d lost her. I was meant to protect her, look after her. Things like this weren’t supposed to happen when I was around. I’ve failed as a brother.

“What did she say to you?” Jameson asks snapping me out of my thoughts.

I look up. I knew exactly who ‘she’ was.

“Who?” I reply plainly.

“Don’t play dumb,” he rolls his eyes at me.

Sometimes it was annoying how well my brothers knew me.

“She asked me if I was okay, comforted me about Gigi and helped me pull myself together.” I pause, “she told me that wallowing isn’t what I do.”

“Are you sure she knows you properly?” Jameson raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

I try to crack a smile but can’t.

“I told her I still loved her,” I blurt out.

I don’t know why I say it, the words just come out. Jameson has that effect on me. Lying to him has always been difficult, I feel so transparent in his presence. And I know he’ll be honest, he won’t sugarcoat what he really thinks. Maybe that’s why it’s easier.

His eyes grow to the size of saucepans, “what?”

“I told her I st-“

“I know what you said Gray but are you crazy?” he asks me, looking semi-genuinely concerned.

“I don’t know,” I shrug, “maybe.”

“That was selfish,” he seethes, eyes blazing with fury. Similar to how they looked earlier.

“Selfish?” I furrow my brows, “she deserves to know!”

“No, you needed to get it off of your chest in a last ditch attempt to get her back,” he snaps.

I’m not fighting the truth this time. He’s hit the nail on the head. My silence unfortunately speaks volumes and my brother understands.

“So…” he exhales, “what did she say?”

“If I loved her I wouldn’t have kissed Lyra,” I say, her words rubbing through my head again.

“She’s right,” he sighs.

“She always is,” I say, my voice catching slightly.

“I don’t think she’s okay,” Jameson murmurs, “I don’t think Avery does either.”

“It’s all my fault,” I groan, closing my eyes.

I wish I could be taken out of her life, erased forever just so she could be happy. I deserve to hurt, not her. Never her.

“She shouldn’t love me,” I say, the words becoming more real when I say them out loud.

“No one decides who they love, it just happens,” he shrugs at me.

I open my mouth to reply but a familiar ringing cuts me off. My phone vibrates in my pocket. I presume it’s Xander for some sort of update so I answer the way I always do.

“It’s Grayson,” I say sharply.

I hear Jameson mutter something about how weird it was that I answered like that but I choose to kindly ignore him.

“I know,” the voice sings from the other side.

All the oxygen is robbed from my lungs and I struggle to breathe. Every muscle ceases to move and I become a picture frozen in time. It couldn’t be, she wouldn’t call me, it shouldn’t happen.

“Y/n?”

Her name feels foreign to my tongue in that moment, despite the thousands of times I’d uttered it. Jameson gapes.

“Grayson Davenport Hawthorne actually,” she corrects me, her speech a little slurred, “one s, one v and one h.”

“Are you drunk?” I ask bluntly.

“Noooo silly,” she laughs, “I don’t get drunk I’m always fine, perfect actually. That’s what you used to call me, perfect!”

My heart shatters, “you are perfect.”

She giggles, the sound so light and airy and beautiful I want to lock it away and play it on repeat to myself all the time.

“Where are you?” I question.

There’s a few beats of silence before, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” I say, suddenly alarmed. Protection surges through me and all I want to do is run to wherever she is and scoop her up into my arms.

“I’m in a room,” she explains, soundly dazed, out of it.

“Your room?” I prompt her.

“Maybe,” she muses, “there’s all my stuff here but this burning liquid I’m drinking is not mine. It’s kind of hurting my throat.”

“Stay right where you are,” I snap, “I’m going to get someone to come and help you.”

I want the someone to be me. Why can’t the someone be me?

“Help? I don’t need help! I’m fine, always fine. I’m never not fine,” she laughs. I can imagine her tipping her head back with a hand on her stomach.

“I know lo-“ I catch myself again, almost saying love, “I know, but don’t you want a friend to talk to you right now?”

“Yeahhh I do,” she agrees, her words all mushing together into one.

“Good, someone will be right over-“

“Gray can you come?” she murmurs.

I stop. She sounds too vulnerable, too helpless for me to ignore. Her voice is small and cautious. It makes me want to weep.

“Where?” I ask.

“Here…” she trails off, “…with me.”

“Okay,” I blurt out before actually thinking about what I was saying.

“Then bye bye pumpkin pie,” she giggles, “oh my gosh I just rhymed!!”

“Yes you did,” I chuckle, the smile stretched out in my face physically agonising me. She could always make me smile.

I made her cry.

“Are you coming then?” she makes sure, with that soft defenceless voice again.

“On my way now,” I reply, almost as if it’s a reflex.

“Oh good,” she says and I can hear the smile in her voice. With that she hangs up. I shove my phone back in my pocket and meet my brother’s eye.

“She’s drunk,” I explain slowly.

“I heard,” he nods.

“I’m worried she’s going to do something stupid,” I admit with a sigh.

“Go and help her, I’ll carry on looking for Gigi,” Jameson says, as if it’s that simple.

“No I can’t do that,” I shake my head.

“Why not?” he furrows his brows.

“She hates me,” I say quickly, “you go.”

“She asked for you,” he points out, “and I think she’ll notice if I turn up.”

“Maybe she won’t,” I suggest.

“She can’t be that drunk,” he rolls his eyes, then sighs, “look Gray, this might be the last time she ever asks you for help, so go and help her, look after her, then leave.”

“This won’t end well,” I tell him. I can feel it in my chest and in my stomach. If I go there, I’ll lose myself and she won’t be in the right mind to stop me.

“Then don’t go,” he says with a shrug.

I groan, “but she needs someone.”

“You’re arguing with yourself Gray,” Jameson says. And he’s right. The only person who’s stopping me is me. I just don’t want to do the wrong thing.

“It my fault she’s in this situation,” I reply, “it’s my fault she’s on her own, drunk and at risk of doing something stupid.”

“All the more reason for you to go and fix it,” he says.

I stand in silence. That consolidates my answer. To myself and to him.

“Let me know if you get any word of Gigi, I’ll be back soon,” I say, sharply adjusting my suit jacket.

“Bye,” he salutes.

***

I’m quick to make my way to her, the worry sort of takes over and my instinctual protection kicks in. When I get there the door is unlocked, my first indication to how drunk she really is.

“Grayson is that you?” I hear her murmur.

Her voice is vulnerable but the sweet notes are all the same. If I were to hear any voice for the rest of my life I’d want it to be hers. I’d never tire of listening to it. I walk further in the room I see her, the moonlight streaming through the window is the only thing illuminating her figure. Her face is red and there are prominent dark circles underneath her eyes. She looks pale and hollow and there’s something not quite right about her eyes, their usual sparkle dimmed. A catch a glimpse of a glass half empty in her hand.

“How much have you had?” I ask her, cocking my head towards the glass.

“Not that much,” she grins lazily, stumbling over herself in an attempt to make her way towards me.

“You need to get to bed,” I say softly.

All I want to do is scoop her up into my arms and hold her close to my chest, taking in her sweet shampoo. I want to keep her safe, protect her forever but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t let myself. I make a silent promise that I won’t get too close, I won’t touch her because I know once I do I’ll fall in too deep.

“But I’m not even sleepy,” she pouts.

She doesn’t know what she’s doing to me. Those lips are killing me softly.

“Come on,” I murmur gently, gesturing to the bed.

“Nu-uh,” she shakes her head, “you’re going to have to carry me.”

I sigh and weigh up my options before lifting her up into my arms, knowing I shouldn’t be doing this. But I can’t just leave her. She squeals and giggles. An essence of sunshine shining back through the empty void I’d entered.

“Do you feel okay?” I ask her, lowering her down onto the mattress.

“Me? I’m fine!” she smiles, that beautiful smile, “are you okay?”

She tilts her head to the side and a chunk of hair falls over her face.

“I’m fine,” I say, moving it out of the way. It surrounds her like a halo.

“Oh well I know that’s a lie,” she laughs, “I’ve always known that about you though, you’re hurting. On the inside.”

“I am hurting,” I say, caressing her cheek, “but you’re hurting more.”

“I’m not hurting, I’m in the numbing process,” she explains with great enthusiasm.

“Hence the alcohol?” I raise an eyebrow.

“I call it happy juice,” she grins.

“Well no more happy juice tonight,” I explain to her.

“Why not?” she pouts, “it makes me happy.”

“It also destroys your liver,” I say, taking the glass away from her and putting it on the other side of the room.

“Come sit,” she murmurs, patting the bed beside her, “please.”

“I don’t think I should,” I reply. I have to stay strong, I can’t listen to my heart, my brain must have superiority.

“But I want you to,” she whispers.

My brain switches off. I sit beside her and as soon as I’m on the bed, her head falls into my lap, quite literally. It flops down as if she can’t hold it up any longer.

“Can you do that thing, where you massage my head and be all gentle with my hair, I love it when you do that,” she asks me.

When we were together I used to do it all the time subconsciously. If we were watching the television or cuddling. I never realised she loved it so much.

“I’m not sure you want me to,” I say hesitantly. This isn’t fair on her. She’s not in her right mind, she can’t make a decision properly.

“Of course I do!” she exclaims, “that’s why I asked you silly!”

“It’s not a good idea,” I murmur, only saying this because it is right not because it is true, “us being this close.”

“I disagree,” she says cheerily.

“You won’t like it when you sober up,” I warn her. Deep down I know she can’t even comprehend this, I know her mind if fogged over by alcohol and she doesn’t know what she’s really doing. But it doesn’t make me leave.

“I am sober-ish,” she says, “that’s good enough.”

“You are anything but sober,” I chuckle shaking my head.

“Head massage please,” she says, readjusting her head in my lap.

Slowly I comb the hair out of her face and eyes. My fingertips slide gently through her silky hair. The silence is torturing. Seconds morph into minutes until if feels like it’s been hours. I’m being strangled by no sound, suffocated by a blanket of blankness. To distract myself I weave my hands in and out in a rhythmic pattern.

“Why did you choose her?” a small voice asks making me jump. We’d been sat in silence for so long I’d forgotten that we could speak. My hands stop moving suddenly as I register the question.

“What?”

“Is it because she was prettier? Better personality? Funnier? Nicer? Happier?” she lists.

“I didn’t choose her,” I shake my head in defiance.

“But you kissed her,” she says, yet again. The words sting every time they come out of her mouth.

“That was a mistake,” I explain resting my heavy head back until it hit the headboard.

“So were all of our kisses a mistake too?” she asks, rolling onto her back so her eyes are gazing up into mine.

“None of them were,” I murmur in reply, the colour of them so mesmerising it was distracting.

“Then I don’t understand,” her eyebrows pinch together in confusion.

“You don’t need to,” I whisper running my fingertip over her knuckles.

She sighs and sadness ripples over her face. I hate seeing her with that expression on her face. It rips me apart.

“My chest hurts,” she moans softly.

“Where?” I ask urgently, running through every illness and condition that could possibly cause chest pains.

“Here,” she says pointing to her heart, “you broke it.”

My eyes grow glossy even though I didn’t ask them to. She lets me take my hand and place it on top of hers to feel the steady beat in her chest.

“I didn’t mean to,” I barely choke out.

“But you did and it can’t be mended, pain like this there aren’t any pills for,” she tells me.

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that before,” she smiles sadly.

“It’s true,” I whisper.

“Can you fix me?” she says quietly, “because I can’t fix me.”

My heart shatters into a million pieces, fragmenting into shards of pulsating muscle.

“Of course you can fix you,” I tell her.

“No I can’t,” she says, beginning to tear up, “look at me, this is the real me and she’s ugly.”

“This isn’t the real you and she is most certainly not ugly,” I assure her.

She giggles with tears rolling down her rosy cheeks. Beautiful even in tears.

“What?” I ask her.

“You use big words like ‘certainly’, it makes you sound very posh,” she chuckles to herself.

“I’m not that posh,” I reply.

She scoffs, “have you seen your house?!”

“Maybe I’m a bit posh then.”

“You know how ealierrr,” she slurs, “how you and me were talkingggg.”

“You might not want to continue that sentence lo-“ I stop myself from saying love. She’s not my love. She’s not mine to love.

“No,” she shakes her head, “no I do want to carry on actually…” she giggles bringing ther fingertip to my nose, “boop!”

“Okay,” I say softly, taking her hand into mine, away from my nose or any other poke-able part of my face.

“You said you still love me,” she says.

The beating in my chest begins to slow, as does my breathing, “I did.”

“And I still love you too.”

I can’t speak.

“But I can’t say it out loud, because then I’m an idiot for loving someone who cut me deeper than any weapon could ever cut me. And I tried to drink it all away, believe me I tried, but then halfway through my fifth glass I kind of realised it wasn’t working. And then I realised why. It’s because I still fucking love you, how depressing is that? You murdered my heart and yet it can’t stop beating your name. I mean it’s so on brand for me because my whole life people have told me that I always love the wrong too hard, that I get in too deep to come back out of and I’m just proving them all right,” she laughs and sobs at the same time, “I’m so stupid, so horribly ironically stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” I snap.

“You’re only saying that because you still love me,” she groans, rolling her eyes.

“I would say it regardless, any competent person can see that,” I say.

“But you still love me?” she murmurs, her for eyes forcing the truth from my lips.

“I still love you,” I say.

I knew something stupid like this would happen but I’m not stopping it now.

“How? How can you still love me when you love her?” she asks, agony in her tone.

“I don’t,” I tell her sharply,

She furrows her brows, “you don’t love Lyra?”

“No,” I shakes my head.

“But you kissed her,” she says, tracing a fingertip across my bottom lips.

I shy away from her tentative touch, “I did but that was the worst mistake of my life.”

“Why?” she laughs.

“Because I’m losing you because of it,” I admit. She won’t remember tomorrow morning, she won’t remember what she said or why she said it. This moment will be lost in time and I’ll be the only one left to remember it.

“You’re just losing the outside me, I have a feeling I’ll always love you,” she replies.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” I shake my head, “you’re drunk, you need to sleep.”

I need to stop this. I’m being selfish again. She’s pouring her heart out to me because she can’t control her mouth. It’s not fair and I won’t let her do it anymore.

“No I do know what I’m saying,” she insist, sitting up, “you don’t understand what you do to me and I wish I wasn’t so in love with you because maybe I’d be able to walk away more easily but I can’t, because this love isn’t just love. It’s something more for me.”

I’m in shock. A physical state of shock. It was more to me too…. I know I must go quickly before this escalates. It’s already gone far too far. Enough is enough.

“Look sweeth-“ I stop myself, “y/n, I need to leave.”

I stand up quickly and attempt to make a b-line for the door.

“No!” she yelled, yanking be back down. Her fingers clawing at my arm, like a scared animal, “please Gray, stay with me.”

“I can’t,” I shake my head, my face pinching in pain.

“You have to,” she begs, tugging at my arm.

I sigh, “you’ll be mad at me tomorrow if I stay tonight.”

“No I won’t silly,” she says, “please I need someone to cuddle.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I tell her. As much as I want her in my arms again, to feel her skin against mind and listen to her sweet breathing as she sleeps I can’t. I can’t do it to her, I won’t.

“Well I do,” she says, pushing me down firmly.

Slowly she crawls onto me and curls up against my chest. If the last twelve hours had never happened this would be totally normal and completely natural. Instead I carrying the heaviest stone of guilt I’ve ever lifted. I can’t leave her, but I can’t stay either.

“You won’t like this in the morning,” I tell her, hoping she might find to her senses.

“Well I like it now,” she yawns, cozying further into me.

“That’s because you’re drunk,” I explain, resting my cheek on top of her head. I smell her sweet shampoo and deja vu washes over me like a tidal wave. I’m swept under

“Grayson?” she whispers gently.

“Yes?”

“Promise you’ll just stay for tonight, then you can leave me for the dancer again tomorrow,” she says.

The bones in my chest ache and the pump that supplies me with blood crushed between fate’s cruel fingers.

“I’m not leaving you angel,” I tell her firmly, “not ever again.”

“I love you,” she mumbles, the words muffling against my chest.

“I love you too,” I whisper, planting a kiss onto the top of her head.

***

heyyyy guysss. so you’ve probably noticed this is the first fic I’ve posted in a bit of a while. It’s bc of exams and stuff and also this fic was so long. I got a little bit carried away mid way through but oh well… I hope you guys enjoyeddd 💖💖

am I dancer? Yes. The last time I did ballet? when I was about nine years old…. so apologies to any actual ballet dancers who are reading lyra’s routine and are thinking what in the world…

ANYWAYS I love love loved writing this and I know different POVs sometimes are a bit controversial but I felt like it was necessary here and thanks for readinggg 🤍🤍

also no one asked but I’m going tell you guys anyway, Lyra’s dance is based off of a song called girl with one eye by florence and the machine (omg it’s such a good song)

I wonder if any of you worked out my little clue 🤭🤭

hint: weiv fo tniop s’aryl

TIG masterlist

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x reader: Awakening Chapter Four

Chapter 4: Especially when he was unconscious!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

Tw/Tags: non?? D trust reader a bit more, it was hard to add Elita and B scenes I’m trying. That should be all

(Chapter 4 is here! I had a little more fun for this episode I knew what I wanted to have happen between D and Y/N and yes he’s my favorite (Besides OP and B shut up) and i wanted to show the bit of change we witness in D before his fight with Starscream,. Figured it’ll be right to add it where I did.. I will go back to writing more for Elita but it’s hard to write without it taking out of the story much since honestly Elita feels a little too less developed then the other three. I’m trying guys. I did add that small moment with Shockwave and Soundwave with thee reader just to add something there with the two. Hopefully in the second movie that I’m sure we’ll get eventually will follow the]m and starscream a bit more so fingers crossed. Anyway that should be all I hope you all enjoy this long chapter.)

“They found us!”

The five looked around scared.

“Oh yes, time to fight back!”

”D wait we must-

“No! You must return to Iacon City and alert everyone! Embedded in this are the records I have shown you. Use it to reveal the truth.”

“We will.”

“This tunnel leads to the mountains. Cybertrons future is in your hands.”

“We’re out of time. We gotta move!”

The three of them start running. Orion would follow but then stop to look back at Trion

“Wait! Wait! We can’t just leave you here!”

”Come with us!”

“Your fight will come my friends. Primus has a purpose for us all. But this fight. This fight is mine. Now go!”

The five would then continue their run as Trion stands and waits for the fight. His back to them. Soon parts of the cave collapses and soldiers of sentinel appear with guns. Soon causing smoke then pointing their guns at Trion

“Stand down. Old timer.”

“Ah. Old you say?”

Trion would then use his powers. Transforming and attacking th the guards giving Orion and the others time to escape

“Not too old for you.”

But when he looks up he is then attacked by Airachnid who pins him down

“We need to hurry!”

“I still think we have better odds fighting than out running them.”

“Wait! We have cogs! We can transform now.”

“That’s right! Everyone ready?”

“I was born ready!”

“On three! One-“

From there they fall. The gang then struggling with parts of their bodies transforming. As the others struggled Y/Ns blades started spinning which caused them to trip and spin side ways because of the blades down the hill. Going up and down in short and hard bumps. Their body spinning along.

“Hey I got- woah! Help HELP!!!!”

“How do we use these things?!”

“I don't know! Just try!”

“It’s working haha! It’s work- My head. My head! Help! Help!”

“This is not faster!”

“Come On!”

“Aaaand- Transform!! Wheels! I need Wheels!”

Once in the forest deeper three guards would stop in front of them shooting. The five then keep running then once in mid air they all transform hitting the guards. Bee would then hit a rock breaking his stop being in vehicle mode still

“Oh yeah we’re alive!”

The four would then talk to each other super excited. Not noticing the guard behind Orion pointing their blaster until the guard is then shot and flown back. D coming in and landing on the guard as he laughs

“Yes!”

“Hey woah buddy. You ok?”

“I’m great! Are you kidding me? We can transform! We. Trans. Form!”

“Wait I-I- I know. I know.”

“We’re wasting time. We have to get back to Iacon.”

“Looks like the fastest way back to Iacon i-“

“Here I got it!”

“Woah hey what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah but our proof is inside and you’re spilling it everywhere.”

D would then turn to face Orion and in a low voice speaks as he stares Orion down and stares closer. Elita and B watching in shock as well.

“I. Got. It.”

“Ok.”

D would look at Orion for a moment more. Looking at the map and then the others. D and Y/N making eye contact. Y/N was unsure as they then look down and a bit of fear in their eyes. Then looking back at Orion. Satisfied with Orions answer before heading forth

“Follow me.”

Orion and the others would start follwoing him after a second

———————————————————————————

As they continue to walk as the sun starts to set. Orions face shows that he’s worried about his friend. Elita and B can tell as well. Y/N then gets the idea walking past Orion and stood next to D who was a lot further ahead then the others.

”Hey D look when we get back we will take down sentinel.”

”I don’t want to kill sentinel i want to-“

”I know what you want to do. I know how you’re feeling because I am feeling it too!” This catches D off guard bit as the two keep walking. Y/N would then sigh

“I want sentinel to suffer just as much as you do. But we must also think smart. If he has been in power for this long then surely we’re just walking into a trap. A web.” The two wold stand and face eachother. D grumbling and sighing as he looked to the side. The three stoppping and just watching staying at the same distance.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to stay stronger. With th help of the people I know I can only trust.” D would put his hand on their arm as he stepped a bit closer with a smile that isn’t as in concept as it use to be. Y/N looked at him still unsure and looked down for a moment

”D strength isn’t always-“

”I can trust you to be there….right?” His hand squeezing their arm a bit and pulling them a bit closer

”….Always.” They say finally looking at him. His smile still there and he pats their back and starts walking forward again. Leaving them there as the others start walking to them

”You tried…Thank you.” Orion stand next to them. They would pt their hand on his shoulder and just nods. Orion, Elita and B start walking as Y/N Stoof there for a second. Their expression changing from sort of sad to angry then to unsure

*Back at Sentinels Tower———————

“Alpha trion! You are still alive? Won’t you look at that! You look horrible.”

“Traitor. You are a disgrace. Primus will surely-“

“Uh-huh yes shut up. I seized an opportunity to take control of my future. Anything to get out of working for you and that boring council of elders. Seriously I would watch you primes spend half the day losing a war and the other half sitting around waxing poetic loyalty and honor. But now look at you.”

“Hear my words! You will fall and a new prime will rise-“

“There you go again. I don't want to listen to any more speeches. There was others in the cave with you. Who are they?”

“They are to be your undoing you’ve lost Sentinel. Nothing can-“

From Trion would kill Trion

“Ugh didn’t I just say no speeches. You heard me right? This is what I’m talking about. Unbelievable. All of them were like that. So disrespectful. Given that friend of the miners Y/N didn’t visit. My money is it has something to do with them and whomever else with them. A real shame really.” He would then sigh then look over at Airachnid

“Ok hunt down the others.”

“With pleasure.”

———————————————————————————

*Back to the others-

The group are walking after transforming. Y/N having sitting on the end of Orions truck. Their helicopter would make too much noise. Once they transform Y/N made sure to get off to let Orion to transform as well.

“Hey buddy!”

“Yo.”

“Hey��You've been a little quiet. Are you alright?”

Orion walks next to D as the other two stay behind

“All I can think about is Sentinels' smirking face. He must pay for what he’s done. Someone has to do something.”

“We are! With Alpha Trions proof inside that device we will show everyone the truth.”

“You honestly believe it’ll be that easy? Iacon doesn’t want to hear the truth. They worship sentinel. There’s got to be a better way to bring him down.”

“We just have to trust that everyone will believe what we show them-“

The two would stop for a moment

“I trusted sentinel! With everything! I will never trust a so-called leader ever again. There’s only one bot I know I can-“

The five are then attacked and knocked out cold by a device

“All right. Wake them up!”

Orion and the others would then wake up. Orion closer in the front as D was beind him on the right. And D and Elita on his left a bit further. Y/N was in front of the two but a bit further from Orions left

“Now. Are you spys? Or just incompetent lackeys?!”

“We’re not spys.”

“But he is incompetent.”

”Elita.”

“Scanning electrical impulses. He’s telling the truth.”

“That just means he believes himself! Like any spy would.”

B would try to speak

“Uh why is he gagged?”

“He wouldn’t stop talking!”

“Even when he was unconscious?”

“Especially when he was unconscious!”

“Enough! Two options for you! One. We slowly dismantle each of you one bolt and screw at a time. And really make sure you feel it. Or two. An exchange for a quick death you give us and tell on the energon trains. Access to mines. Or anything else that could hurt your boss' sentinel prime!”

“Who exactly are you guys?”

“The Cybertronian high guard!”

“I told you it wasn’t tight enough!”

“Prestigious defenders of Iacon!”

“Prestigious?”

“Wait, he's right. I read all about you in the archives! You were the most legendary warriors of all of Cybertron.”

“Look! Look! Look! There’s Starscream and you’re Shockwave and Soundwave! Guys raise your hand if there’s a wave is in your name there’s a lot of waves.”

“Silence! The yellow annoying one is correct.”

“WOAH!”

“We were once the high guard. We witnessed sentinels betrayed. Saw the primes fall. Since that day we’ve been fighting from the shadows. Doing whatever we can to sabotage sentinel.”

“That’s great! We’re-Oh ok ok! We’re good! Everyone relax. I’m just saying we’re allies. We were on our way back to Iacon and now with your help. We can unify Cybertron against sentinel prime.”

“The idea of a unified Cybertron is a myth. All that counts is the strength of one bot over another!”

“Ok so these- these guys are a little intense.”

“Yeah. Just a little.”

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“I'll tell you what I’m not doing. I’m not cowering inside some busted ship playing king of the throne. I’m not pretending like I’m making a difference by throwing in one punch and then running away to hide! I found out that sentinel is rotten today and I’m going to make him pay for it. Today!”

“You think you can insult me and just walk away? No one leaves here unless I say so.”

“Is that right? Well how can you say so. With my head in your teeth?”

“D!”

“D would hit Starscream with his head. Causing Starscream to get irritated and fly in the air to kick D. Only for him to block it. Starscream would then fly and grab D. Flying him to the ceiling and punching him only for D to transform his leg and kick him. Starscream would fall back D landing on his feet over him and starts throwing punches at Starscream face

“Hit me! Do it! Come on! Hit more!”

Shockwave would then be seen taking a step to walk to them but Soundwave would stop him. The two looked at each other before looking back at the two. D would then notice the other bots cheers causing D to look around surprised, confused, but now given with pride

“You want to see the strength of one bot over another?!”

“Is that all you got, tough guy? Lets go! Come on! “

D would then gain a canon. He stops to look at it for a moment before looking back at startscream. Orion and Y/Ns face shocked

“Please! I beg you!”

“Stop! D! He’s not the enemy!”

“Bare witness! This is the last time I show mercy. Decide right now! You can stay here in hiding. Bowing before your pathetic leader or follow me as we march on Iacon and I take down sentinel once and for all!!!”

From there D shoots up as the other bots cheer and walk to D. Shockwave and Soundwave doing the same as the bots walk around Elita, B, and Orion as D is soon surrounded. Orion would then look at D as everything seems to slow down. D would look back but his eyes only passing Orion as he looked at the other bots around him having an angry look. D would then make eye contact with Y/N you looked at him with worry and sad eyes. The stare going only for a second as Y/N grows scared but more so worried. From there, there’s a huge explosion causing many to fly back. The hidden base now attacked my sentinels guards

“B! Come on!”

B and Orion fight together shooting at the soldiers. Y/N and Elita join together and start fighting showing off their fighting skills.

“Engage all hostiles. I got the bridge.”

The fight would commence and after a minute the fight was over. B and D were taken as Elita and Orion are left behind. During the fight, Y/N would be cornered. They would then look at the blades of their alt mode and sigh.

”Well better then nothing.” Choosing to use them as swords until they realize most of the blade was a cover up for their swords. They then start fighting at their swords were like sabers and they start slicing up the guards. The fighting continueing

”Elita get down!”

Y/N was thrown by an explosion to the side behind the ship. From there they would grab a gun and wait to ambush one of the soilders. Only to hear one of them com Airachnid that Orion and Elita were gone. With everything Y/N starts to panick saying quiet. Then hearing they got B and D-16. They would then wait until the soilders to leave then once they’re far enough. They are successfully able to get away transforming into their helicopter not noticing the remaining guard. Y/N was so fueled with anger and sadness. That all they can think about is to just save their remaining friends being D-16 and B-127.

———————————————————————————

*Later that morning-

“I feel like someone dropped a cliff on me. Where are the others?”

“Sentinel troops took as many prisoners as they could carry. They got D-16 and B….there’s a chance they could’ve taken Y/N but when asking one of the captured guards he said they didn’t tale Y/N and their body. Isn’t anywhere….”

“Oh no.”

“And half of those high guard nut jobs.”

“Our proof. It’s gone.”

“So what do we do now?”

“D was right.”

“About what?”

“Everything! Look at it. Look around. This is a disaster. It’s all my fault I should’ve stayed on protocol.”

“Listen to me, I really want you to hear this. Are you listening? I’m better than you.”

“Yeah ok. I’m hearing you.”

“I’m better than you in every way except you have hope. You always have. You went into the mine to rescue Jazz. You snuck up into the surface to find the Matrix of Leadership.”

“Yeah, and how did that work out?”

”My point is that your instincts tell you to break protocol for a reason. This blind optimism that you have is why you make such bold and courageous choices. That are extremely stupid.”

“First time giving a pep talk?”

“You’re inspiring. You can envision a better future that no one else can see. And if we ever wanna see B and D-16 and possibly Y/N again. That. That is the Orion Pax that we need right now. Listen to me, we can do this.”

“Those energon trains will be heading back to Iacon. If we intercepted one-“

“Hell yes. I can reroute it. What else do we need?”

“Well my bold instincts tells me we have to recruit some nut jobs.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.”

“Uhh Shockwave, Soundwave. You in the back. In order to save our captured friends we have to act now.”

“How about I blast you back to Iacon- Ugggh she punched me in my eye!”

“Everyone shut up! All of you! Listen to him!”

“Most likely our friends are being held captive at the top of sentinels tower. A surprise attack will give us a chance to rescue them.”

“Impossible. We do not have enough soldiers or a way inside.”

“Elita will get us in. And I will get more troops.”

‘Why should we follow you?”

Elita threatens him again with the show of her fists

“We will follow you.”

“Attention High Guard. Prepare for battle. What is our first move?”

“We roll out.”

“What?”

“Louder.”

“Transform and Roll Out!”

I couldn’t really find a right place to add anything for the high guard with the reader. But that’s what my other series Before and So Forth is for lol. Hope y’all enjoyed this chapter

[lover-of-mine]

Anna baby we got new stills!! I am very curious why so many of Buck's outfits have been brown. The flannel he's wearing in the loft??? Blue and red and brown??? I'm thinking they tell Buck Maddie is pregnant, and it gets Buck thinking about a family (adding to his already immense longing), add in the pictures on his fridge and he is so close to understanding what he wants! But anyway! What is with the brown????

Hello baby!! So, the brown. I was talking about the brown with @stagefoureddiediaz literally yesterday lol. But current theory is that they are playing with both the stability and growth attached to the color when put in a positive light and the sense of isolation when we put it in a negative light. Buck doesn't wear brown a lot pre-season 7, his neutral color is grey, but ever since he came out he has been in a grey/sepia scale. The only instances me and Kym could come up with at the top of our heads was when Chim kicks Buck out and he has to move back with Maddie and the grocery store fight.

It plays into movements in Buck's life he needs to figure out alone, in a sense. Only Buck can break his own patterns and using a color that's attached to both stability and growth, like who he is for Eddie in 710, and loneliness, the grocery store, is fun because only Buck can allow himself to grow, he needs to do this for himself

Brown was also very attached to Tommy, Buck hasn't worn any brighter colors, like he would do his blues and red in previous seasons, this season yet, except for his costume, and I think it also plays into the way Buck forces himself to be what his partner wants and fails to consider what chipping away pieces of himself will do to him, like the way Tommy doesn't know he doesn't like basketball or the way Buck never complained about the "Evan" thing or the way Buck didn't know Tommy is gay or was engaged before or all the tiny ways they showed us Buck and Tommy didn't really know each other. And that plays into the way Buck was dimming himself while trying to find himself in the relationship, while trying to make dating Tommy something transformative, especially because while doing that, he was negating parts of who he is.

The brown hoodie is the first time we are seeing Buck in plain brown too, he's usually in a pattern or a textured fabric, and the mopping around and the very obvious stress-baking on "faded" colors with Jee in a literal rainbow, probably leading Buck to talk to Maddie and Chim in the red and blue will be interesting if that's the correct sequence of events. Because it will allow Buck to start bringing that color back to his life.

He's back in his self-discovery blue and that red with Buck is attached to emotions, trying to get in the right direction when it comes to his feelings, like trying to let go of Abby, his speech about love, a few moments in 208, Buck, actually as a whole works for Buck to try and figure out his own feelings.

But he's not in the true red, so, as pointed out to me by Kym, it's almost as if he's locking himself. He's not ready to have the revelation yet, But he will be back in blue, that's a good step, he will probably work his way back to his blue, being in it when he's ready for Eddie.

I will taglist this one (interact with this post if you wanna get tagged)

@sparkedblaze @caw-salem @dreamofsomepiphany @100ceruleaneyes @linus-lucy @chaosqueery @gina-spike @chimchiminie98 @elvensorceress @singitforthegirls @dangerpronebuddie @182daysof @steadfastsaturnsrings @sparklespiff @inell @miles--to--go @jesuisici33 @wolfdeans @lunarsolar1 @joshwritesfics @glasscities @kejfeblintz @stagefoureddiediaz @mosaicstardust @eddiedisasterdiaz @hermioneindisguise @queerprincesseddiediaz @lookforanewangle @becausebuckley @lemotmo @thenainitaldisaster

@dingdongfries @angelcamael

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"Come Home with Me Tonight" | Levi Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.1k ✧ notes ➼ fem!reader, fwb to lovers, mutual pining, alcohol, no use of y/n, some suggestive commentary but no actual smut (yet), idk i originally wanted to write something for valentine's day but then realized that this has nothing to do with valentine's day LMAO but here you go

Formal events were never Levi's thing. He had grown up in the Underground and lived a life that was the complete opposite of the world he currently found himself in—a world filled with formalities and facades he couldn't be bothered to keep up with. Thankfully, it was just for the night, but it was still a drag to keep up with.

He sipped at his glass of bourbon as he struggled to pay attention to the work drama that Hange was chattering to Erwin and Miche about. It was long-winded and convoluted and the pieces stopped connecting for him long ago.

Levi getting immediately distracted upon seeing you walk in didn't help either.

His movements briefly stopped as his eyes landed on you. You had strolled into the venue wearing a loose-fitting dress that perfectly fell over your features. The color complemented your eyes and your hair was flowing loosely over your shoulders. Your outfit was very minimal, yet Levi couldn't take his eyes off you.

Levi's somewhat mesmerized gaze was immediately transformed into a frown as soon as he saw that you were accompanied by a date, with some overly pompous recruit following after you like a lost puppy.

He immediately turned back towards the conversation in an attempt to distract himself, but it was getting more and more difficult the longer that the night went on. He kept on swapping his gaze over to you, despite his best efforts to swallow down the jealousy arising within the back of his head.

It didn't help that you didn't seem particularly taken by your date either.

As the party went on, socializing became more draining, and you quickly found yourself outside of the venue on your own, leaning against the balcony. It gave you some solitude as you looked over the seaside. With the sun just beginning to set, the scene was pretty and it gave you some time to relax to stave off some of the tension building within you purely from the sheer amount of people in the building.

"Too crowded for you?"

You turned around towards the door and saw Levi's distinct figure approaching you.

You weren't that surprised to see him. You had been friends with benefits for a few months at this point, casually meeting up with each other to relieve stress after a chaotic work day, although you had been avoiding him for the past week or so due to some confusing feelings that were beginning to arise whenever you were around him.

"...started talking about work relations," you responded with a sigh. "Lost interest pretty quickly after that."

You watched as he walked up next to you, leaning his back against the balcony railing, before passing you the drink in his hand. He had picked up your favorite for you.

"And you? Got tired of Hange talking about their work drama?"

"You could say that," Levi grumbled, which clearly indicated just how spot-on your prediction was.

You sipped on the drink he had ordered for you, subtly smiling that he had not only brought you it, but also that he paid enough attention to know your taste palette.

Your eyes occasionally flickered up to look at him, with you noticing just how stupidly attractive he looked in a suit every time your eyes landed on him.

"Where'd your 'date' run off to?"

His question pulled you out of your daze, and it took you a second to reorient yourself.

"Date?" you asked, momentarily forgetting the recruit that you had dragged along to the venue. "Oh. Him? He's just a recruit that wanted to start networking or whatever, so he just tagged along. Owed him a favor anyway."

The clarification helped resolve any lingering feelings of jealousy present within him, but he was annoyed at himself for even getting jealous in the first place. The two of you weren't in a relationship, and it was never implied that it was where you were headed.

Still, he found himself perpetually bothered throughout the night at the fact that you had shown up to the venue with someone else.

As Levi fell silent, you noticed him begin to shuffle around awkwardly, with his hands casually resting in his pockets.

Your eyes wandered down from his eyes to his neck, noticing that his collarbones were showing from the top two buttons of his shirt being undone. Feeling your body begin to heat up, your eyes continued traveling lower, with your gaze falling on how his suit jacket seemed to be hugging the curve of his back, before going back up as you noticed how the color of his tie seemed to make his grey eyes even more intense to look into.

It didn't take long before you found yourself imagining yourself in bed with him again. No one had ever been able to pleasure you as much as Levi could, yet you still found yourself avoiding him and dismissing your desire for his touch due to one reason: you were falling in love with him.

Distressed upon finally connecting the pieces, you immediately set your drink down and began to move to head back inside.

"...I'm gonna go check on Nanaba and the others-"

"Wait," Levi interrupted, his hand reaching out to gently grab onto your arm to keep you from leaving. "Don't go."

You paused and looked up at him. It had been a while since you've last slept together. You had assumed that this was where he was going with his request for you to stay, given the fact that you barely ran into each other without it ending up with you in his arms as he fucked the stress out of you.

"...I can meet you after?" you suggested. "Hooking up at this fancy venue might not be the best idea."

"Tch." He let out a quiet tut as he let go of your wrist and leaned back towards the railing. "It's not that."

You blinked at him in confusion, slightly tilting your head. "Then what?"

"...is it wrong of me to want more than just a meaningless fuck?"

Your lips parted in surprise, with your eyes widening, as you realized that those feelings brewing underneath the surface between you were real, and more importantly, reciprocated.

"Levi..." you whispered. "...what are you saying?"

He was silent for a moment, and you could tell from the look in his eyes that he was trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he looked directly back into your eyes, before whispering,

"...come home with me tonight."

#: @spicerackofblorbos @romantichomicide95 @levisbrat25 @leviismybby @moonmalice @averysmolbear @cathybarn @tclbts @bejewelledd @sad-darksoul @ackermendick @aomi04 @apolloshaiku @laraackerman @pulpolicia @raenacreates @nube55 @roseofdarknessblog @saeyaki @noctemys @sixpennydame @dumbdollyx @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @catskze @nixie-writes-aot @la-undercover-latina @v4mp-wife @darkstarlight82 @professorweezy @braunsbabe @lovedbylevi @issacovegx @captainleviswifee @mrsmiagreer @youre-ackermine @starrylevi @levis-squishy-cheeks @dumbfound-princess @deepzombieyouth @evas-leslas @levilxvr @astri-ackerman @ackrmntea join my taglist!

[bucketsofmonsters]

The Witch's Apprentice - Part 6

cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, body horror, forced transformation, self-inflicted injuries, more tags will be added as the story continues

male demon x afab reader

Word count: 3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7

He brought you back into your room. Where else would he bring you? Your soundproofed, locked room that you had no way out of. 

You weren’t any less stuck than you were before. 

That wasn’t going to stop you, couldn’t stop you. You needed to get out. You needed to see Eden. 

You knew any attempt to reach her was pointless. She couldn’t hear you. 

It didn’t stop your desperate attempt to get to her in any way possible. You pounded on the door, the noise of your fists against the thick wood echoing in your ears and never reaching hers. 

You're not entirely sure how long you pounded on that door. It was hard to focus on anything. You weren’t seeing the door, you were seeing Eden’s face and her saving you from those god-forsaken woods and then Lucien doubling over again, hearing how his words got frantic as he tried to warn you about something he just couldn’t say and you’d start hitting even harder. 

An earsplitting, pained scream sounded and it took a second to realize it came from you. You hadn’t meant to scream but what harm could it do? It wasn’t like anyone could hear you anyways. 

You kept pounding until massive, gentle hands wrapped around your wrists. 

You looked down to find Lucien holding your now bloodied hands. 

His grip was soft. You could have pulled away if you’d wanted to, kept on trying to fight your way through a solid block of wood. 

You let him stop you. 

As soon as he realized you were done he released your hands and with that you collapsed to the floor, letting your head fall against the door. 

“You tire yourself out yet?” Lucien asked, watching you from above.

You glared up at him as you sucked in air. 

“I need…” Your voice came out nasally and wet. “I need to understand. I need to see her.”

“This is a bad idea.” He sounded resigned, as if he knew nothing he said was going to matter. You had to do this. 

“Says the demon I talk to every day.”

“Don’t do that. Not now. Not after everything.”

“Sorry,” you said with a sniffle. “You weren’t a bad idea. I think summoning you might have been the only good idea I ever had.”

As you spoke you felt something being pushed under the door into your side. You looked down to see a plate of food. Your dinner. 

You shoved it back out. At least that was something Eden could see, somewhere productive your frustration could go. 

You heard a huff through the door and you knew she was projecting her voice through. “Fine, if you want to be that way.”

“Can I talk to you?” you called out, knowing it was never going to work. 

You didn’t know if she’d left yet but it didn't matter. She never lifts it on your end, never tries to hear you. 

A heavy sigh escaped Lucien as he stared at you with sad eyes.

“As long as you’re dead set on this, do you want to do something really stupid?”

You nodded instantly. At this point, you’d agree to just about anything. 

He held his hand out towards you and waited. 

You took a moment to gather yourself as best you could. There wasn’t much you could do at this point to stop looking like a mess but at the very least you could try to slow your breathing and blink some of the tears out of your eyes. 

When you reached out to take his hand, he gave it a gentle squeeze before you were feeling the same sensation you’d felt when he’d whisked you back to his home. This time you appeared a few steps away, right through the wall. 

Eden’s eyes widened in fear the second Lucien appeared in front of her. She hadn’t even noticed you yet, her eyes locked on his imposing figure. 

As she stumbled backward, reaching blindly for something behind her, her eyes fell to you and that fear turned to anger. 

“What did you do?” she hissed out. 

“What did I do? How about I’ll tell you that when you explain the runes that burnt their way into his skin when he tried to warn me about you.”

You watched all the blood drain from her face. “What has he told you?”

“He hasn’t told me anything,” you shouted. “He can’t, you’ve stopped him. So now you’re going to tell me.”

You felt Lucien’s presence behind you, his hand ghosting over your back as a faint reminder that you weren’t here alone. 

Eden stumbled back again, coming up against a table this time. As she did, she grabbed a handful of the rosemary you always made sure she had on hand and threw it at the both of you, murmuring something under her breath as she did. 

You could feel the empty space where he’d stood before as she banished him. 

There was a manic look in her eyes as you watched her strategize, planning out what she was about to say to you. 

“He’s tricked you,” she finally settled on. “You think he’s on your side but he isn’t.”

“I don’t believe you,” you said, and those words seemed to strike almost as much panic in her as seeing Lucien did. 

“You don’t understand. He’s the one who made the forest, he’s the reason you're trapped here at all. I saved you from that, don’t you remember?”

And then everything clicked into place. “Oh my god, you made him do it, didn’t you?”

She didn’t need to confirm it, you could see it written across her face, across the face that you knew so well. 

She floundered and you just watched in horror as your best friend unraveled in front of you. 

“No, no of course not,” she lied. “I wouldn’t do that to you. It would take a monster to do that to you.”

You remembered Lucien’s confusion when you told him you couldn’t leave the woods. “All this time you could have let me through.”

“I did let you through, don’t you see? I let you through to bring you here and I’ve kept you so safe.”

You fought not to glance towards the door, towards the woods. To not give anything away. You could make a break for it and from there, it was his woods. Maybe he could save you before Eden could command him to do anything else. 

“Lucien made it,” you said again and Eden nodded eagerly You knew exactly what she wanted. For you to blame him, to act as if this wasn’t entirely her doing. 

He could save you, you knew he could. You could run and summon him before his creation managed to swallow you whole. 

Tears pricked at Eden’s eyes but they never fell. She would never let them fall. “You will not leave me.” 

She said it the same way she commanded Lucien, with absolute authority

You weren’t falling for it anymore. 

Your cheeks felt wet again and you reached up to find you’d started crying once more without even realizing it. “I would have stayed. If you’d just asked me I would’ve stayed in a heartbeat.”

“Then why does it matter?”

“Why does it… What do you mean why does it matter? You imprisoned me and you lied to me and I trusted you.”

She scoffed. “You know what? I tried so hard to be out here on my own. I conquered so much, escaped every other weak person who was dragging me down. But something was missing, something I couldn’t run from. And then you showed up, all bright-eyed and grateful and you fixed it all. I was weak and I needed people, needed you. I need you. Is that what you want to hear?”

It fully settled that she meant every word. She needed you here, needed you to keep the sickening loneliness that you were intimately familiar with away. 

And never once did it occur to her to think about that feeling in you. 

Why would it? You weren’t a friend to her, a companion, a person. You were a tool to stave off an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her gut. 

Before you could even process the fact that you were running towards the door you were falling. You hit the ground with a thud as Eden watched on from behind you, her shaking hands pointed in your direction. 

She muttered something under her breath and then you weren’t falling anymore. Instead, you were floating slowly but surely upwards. 

It took a few moments to realize that while you might be floating, your body wasn’t coming with you. It was lying below you, cold and so very far away. 

You looked dead. 

You felt dead. 

And then you were being made smaller. Matter was being summoned up where there was none before and you were being forced into a body that you don’t want to be in, one too small for you that felt far too fragile. 

You could feel bones and tendons forming, snapping into place as Eden held you aloft in front of her. 

Skin started to form over your new, unfamiliar frame and then something else. Were they feathers?

As unfamiliar flesh continued to crawl over the bones and muscles were conjured from nothing, you tried to fight, to move, to do anything in your new form. 

You managed to lift what looked like a half-formed wing and the numbness was replaced with searing pain. 

You felt like you’d been skinned and every feather that wormed its way out of you was like a needle through this new skin. 

Eden plucked you out of the air moments before you’d finished forming into this new shape. 

She held you in her hands and you’d never felt smaller. 

“It suits you,” she said as she looked down at you, the wings she’d forced upon you being pressed into your sides by her fingers. “You were always more of a pet than an apprentice anyways.”

Before you can so much as gather your bearings you were being forced inside a silver cage.  

Functioning inside the mind of a bird was impossibly difficult. You couldn’t hold onto thoughts anymore. The closest thing you had was the fear. That much the bird could understand. 

You did your best to make out what was happening outside your cage. It wasn’t that your vision was worse now, if anything it was better. It was like the things you were seeing were losing their context and gaining a new one. 

You saw Eden summon Lucien, saw them look down at your body as Eden said, “This is your fault.” You could see his breath catch in his chest, the way he doubled over on himself.

But you also saw predators, looming shapes that you wanted to get far away from. Their voices were too loud, you needed to leave. 

Then a voice sounded not from outside your new cage, but from somewhere inside of you. “You're not dead. I can feel you. Where are you?”

You heard the words perfectly fine, you just couldn’t process them. As soon as the next would come the word preceding it was lost to you. 

They were just sounds. Why were there sounds coming from inside your head? That’s not where they normally came from. 

A panicked attempt to fly away was thwarted by this small metal prison. You couldn’t go anywhere and there were sounds coming from inside you and the creatures in the room just kept getting louder and louder. 

The voice in your head wasn’t as loud as the creatures were, and yet you could hear it so much better. It spoke again and you could feel the voice trying to calm you. “...need you to summon me… can’t get to you…”

You could barely process the words before they left you behind. 

You caught a glimpse of your side. You were gray. You weren’t always gray. Were you? It seemed strange. 

You leaned back to straighten your feathers, preening restlessly as your mind told you to get away when you knew that you couldn’t. 

The panic felt familiar in a way you couldn’t place. You knew this panic. It wrapped around your throat and stole your air with a practiced familiarity. 

You were trapped. 

You remembered this. You understood being trapped. 

The sounds started making sense again, if only for a moment. Lucien and Eden were shouting at each other over your lifeless corpse and his voice sounded in your head, pleading with you. 

“Just summon me, I can’t get out on my own.”

But you couldn’t. You didn’t have long enough, didn’t have enough of yourself left. 

He’d known this would happen, had begged to take you away, for you not to do this. He had tried to save you, was still trying to, and you couldn’t get a hold of your own mind enough to help him do that. 

With your fleeting lucidity, you did the best that you could, praying it would be enough. You focused everything you had and with all your might sent him back one word. 

“Eden.”

It was difficult to parse what happened next. As far as you could tell,  it got very loud and everything moved very fast and then something exploded. 

You couldn’t tell where it came from. It was harder to place than the voices were. It felt like you’d exploded, like your insides had folded back apart just as quickly as they had formed but it just as easily it could have been the room around you, breaking apart as Lucien took revenge in both of your names. 

You probably wouldn’t make it out. You knew that much. You were stuck in an impossible body in an impossible situation in an impossible forest. You just hoped Lucien made it out, at the very least. That you did manage to free him. 

The next thing you knew you were lying in a strange bed in a strange room with Lucien looming nervously over you. 

You flexed your hand, your own hand, without so much as a single feather. It felt like a miracle. 

The first words you sputtered out were, “Eden… is she…”

You didn’t need to finish the question. 

He looked down at you, seeming like he was trying to figure out what answer you wanted. “She’s alive. I’d rather she wasn’t but I figured it should be up to you as much as it is me. Besides, I have her name now, she can’t make me do anything ever again. So I owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” you said, a coughing fit overtaking you after you forced the words out. A gray feather escaped your mouth and you almost threw up at the sight. 

He graciously didn't mention it. “I really do.”

You shook your head but you didn’t have the energy to argue with him right now. 

As you did, you took in the room around you. It was somewhere foreign, the walls of the room a dull gray with beat-up wooden furniture scattered about the room. 

“Where am I?” you asked as you tried to peek out the window that sat behind Lucien without straining yourself too hard. 

“An inn. I would’ve taken you back to hell with me but after everything you’ve been through I figured you’d appreciate being clear-headed. And besides, it’s easier to leave this way, in case you want me gone.”

You furrowed your brow. “Why would I want you gone?”

“I’m the reason you’ve been stuck in your own personal hell for years, you literally have nightmares about something I did to you.”

You shook your head again. “No, that’s not right. She made you do it, didn’t she?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t change what happened to you.”

You rolled your eyes. “You pouting about it won’t change anything either. You’re not going anywhere, understood?”

He nodded as a faint smile graced his face. “Understood. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go pay for the room. I sort of just poofed us into the nearest inn I could remember as soon as I got a hold of you. You’ll be alright on your own?”

You wouldn’t be. How could you possibly be alright after all of this, after everything you knew had been ripped out from under you? 

You nodded. 

He took you at your word, stepping out the door with a final look in your direction. He closed the door softly behind him as if he was worried if it made too loud of a noise you’d spook. 

You collapsed back into the bed, letting your exhaustion take over you. 

As you fell into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t help but wonder what sort of nightmares you’d have now.

[sanjoongie]

𝖛𝖊𝖗ä𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖓

Verändern: the German word for change, modify, vary, transform

Pairing: Fae! Yunho x Changling! Reader (f)

Genre: smut

Au: fae, changling, modern fantasy

Trope: s2l, bonded mate

Word Count: 2,358

Warnings: public sex, slight fear kink, restraints, dom! Yunho, sub! Reader, brat! Reader, oral (f), breast play, penetrative sex with no barrier, finger sucking (f), tummy bulge, gag (hand, fingers), pull out game, jerking off on stomach?

Rated: 18+ MDNI

Summary: one night, during the autumn solstice celebration, you're whisked away by a hooded man, dropping a bomb to your life. Except you kind of believe him. It wasn't the first time someone accused you of being different.

Author’s Note: @flurrys-creativity to my champion, the one who will fight for me when I cannot. My tag for you is ironic considering how much I depend on you. You may make me wanna tear my hair out but at the end of the day, who else would validate my logic? Also i really hope i didn't butcher the title *pained seonghwa emoji*. Happy belated birthday flurrs, I hope you had a good one

Branches pulled at your hair and clothes, almost as if they were trying to hold you back. You would have leaned into their help if not for the tall, Fae man dragging you through said dark and menacing forest.

“Don’t ever enter the Darkling Forest, sweet,” your mother always told you. “You’ll get trapped and never return.”

Was it a different situation if you were forced into said forest?

Rewind to perhaps a couple hours earlier, where you were celebrating the autumn equinox. You had a solo cup full of a neon green liquid that burned down your esophagus every time you chugged it. You might have gone for some beer if not for the rowdy crowd of people permanently stuck to the keg. 

Not that you were one to turn down a good time with some alcohol but you weren’t starting to feel like you shouldn’t have come to the gathering. Your social battery was already at an all-time low from your job and your family. You were starting to want to kick your past self in the but for agreeing to go to this, despite your busy schedule.

Taking another sip from your cup, your eyes skirted around the blazing bonfire near the dark edge of the forest, and your eyes settled on a figure near the edge. The shadows seem to cling to their lanky form. Unlike the rest of the people around you, bundled up in puffy jackets and fuzzy sweaters, this person had a thin cloak that fluttered in the moonlight. You saw peeks of red and gold. You weren’t one to judge someone on what they chose to wear to a party, but this seemed extremely out of whack. 

Then, the person cocked their head towards the forest and then disappeared into its depths. 

Now, you weren’t a stupid person to simply follow a stranger into the woods. You were more likely to end up on a crime documentary as the killer rather than the victim. But there was something in your chest that was pulling you to follow them. 

You threw your solo cup in a can after downing the rest of the contents, of course, and took long strides to meet the edge of the forest.

Fuck it, the party wasn’t that fun anyways. 

Bathed in the moonlight in a clearing was the person you had been following. The light from the moon seemed to only highlight his light-colored hair that had to be dyed because no one had hair that natural color. His dark eyes under his fringe, however, were solidly locked on you.

“I didn’t think you’d come. Perhaps they are right,” the man murmured to himself.

You sighed tiredly. “Look, if this is a ruse to kill me, I’ve got a knife in my bag, and I know exactly where to dump a body.”

The man smiled, sharp with amusement. “Quite the opposite, in fact. My name is Jeong Yunho.”

You rubbed your chest. You had felt a zing of something in your heart. What had that been? Heartburn from the neon drink?

“ ‘kay, well Yunho, I’m going to need you to be a hell of a lot less cryptic if you think this is gonna be a thing right now,” you said boldly.

Yunho cocked his head at you curiously. “It’s clear you were brought up amongst them, but you’re going to need to find a way to be less blunt if I bring you back.”

“You know, you may be really hot, but you’re not making a whole lot of sense right now. If you’re selling drugs, I’m not interested.” With that, you walked backward, not giving him the benefit of your back or seeing your ass, if you’re being honest.

The black bindings that ran down his left arm snaked out from his body as he stretched his arm out towards you. They raced along the sticks and leaves on the bare ground and finally wound around your ankles, anchoring you in your spot. 

“Leaving is not an option,” Yunho mused. “I’m afraid I can not let you have that much power over your life right now.”

You should have been scared. You knew that objectively. It wasn’t every day that a man controlling shadows wrapped you up in a forest. But you felt something slowly curling inside your chest as Yunho moved closer to you. You didn’t know exactly what it was, but something in you was telling you that Yunho would never hurt you.

Then the moonlight flashed against Yunho’s eyes, much like when a cat’s eyes reflected light and suddenly everything clicked together. The warnings your mother had told you every day that tied in with never going into the Darkling Forest.

“You’re one of them!” You exclaimed. “One of the Fae.”

“And so are you.”

You scoffed at the statement. “Please, if I was a fairy princess, I--”

“Do you have a habit of winding words and working around the truth, or spinning something into how you would like it to sound?” Yunho cut you off.

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, but--”

“A darkness inside of you assuring you of your survival. A sharp mind that can thirst for blood?” Yunho continued, stepping closer and closer. 

“In my defense, that tree had it coming!”

“If you believe I’m Fae, then you know I can’t lie.”

Your mouth shut audibly. Well, he had you there. “Wouldn’t I know if I was a--”

“A changeling?” Yunho’s eyes glinted with mystery. “Haven’t you always felt like you didn’t belong?”

That one hit a little too close to home. “Why now?”

Yunho’s eyes flitted around to the darkness behind you. “They’re coming for you. We have no King or Queen. They’re worried you’ll claim the throne. They want you dead.”

It was your turn to cock your head curiously. “Then why are you here?”

Yunho pressed his lips together, looking at you, then looking at the ground. “You’re mine.”

“Excuse you?!” You shouted in surprise.

“Don’t you feel it? Our bond? They handfasted us as babies. We’re mates.”

Your hand rubbed your chest with an odd sense of warmth at Yunho’s words. “We’re mates?”

Yunho snatched your free hand. “We have to go.”

That’s how you found yourself currently, running through the dark forest with Yunho. You couldn't lie. It was very thrilling; your heart was beating out of your chest and your legs attempting to keep up with the long-legged man dragging you along. 

Then, something zoomed past your cheek, and you cried out. Yunho halted immediately but steadied you with two hands on your shoulders. Your free hand, not currently entangled with Yunho’s, rose to your cheek and came back red. 

“He’s here,” Yunho said, eyes flitting about behind you. 

“My killer? If I’m a Fae, shouldn’t I have cool powers like you? Let me help. Surely, two against one is bet--”

Yunho clamped a hand against your mouth and pushed you up against a tree. “Quiet. We have to blend into the shadows right now. It’s the only way he won’t find us.”

You watched as the shadows seemed to rise from the ground, encompassing the two of you in a bubble of opaque darkness. 

Who was the one pursuing you? You couldn't ask, of course, due to Yunho’s hand on your mouth. So you stuck your tongue out and ran it up and down his palm. Yunho sucked in some breath hard at your moist tongue, licking him, but he didn’t look down at you. That was annoying.

You dropped your jaw so you could draw some of the skin between your teeth. Yunho’s jaw clenched, but still no eye contact. 

You were about to push your hands onto his chest when a twig snapped in earshot. 

A man with long black hair, a red thread making a braid down one shoulder, and a bandolier criss-crossing his chest. He held two knives between his fingers, flipping them there as he stalked through the forest. Was that your pursuer, because if so, he was really fucking hot.

A low growl emitted from Yunho’s chest. You could feel it because of how close he was, pinning you up against the tree. His eyes were finally on you again, and they were burning with anger. 

You smirked against Yunho’s hand. Was he jealous?

Seconds ticked by as hours, but eventually, Yunho lowered his shadows and his hand on your mouth when the other man rushed off in another direction. 

“Don’t you ever look at another man like you want to fuck him in front of me ever again,” Yunho commanded.

You raised your eyebrows. “Or?”

Yunho’s shadows wrapped around your wrists and pinned them over your head against the tree. “I know you feel the bond. Do not play with me, Changeling.”

“Me? Play with you? But I’m just human raised, aren’t I? What’s that to a Fae grown up in.. the courts, I’m assuming? Do tell me how I’m besting you,” you purred.

This was fun. Maybe being a Changeling wasn’t half bad. 

Yunho’s eyes were getting darker. With what, you had a sneaky suspicion you knew. For within your bond, darkness crept through. Darkness of the way Yunho clearly wanted to possess you. His want seeped through the bond. And you wanted to provoke that. 

“Show me.”

Yunho’s nimble fingers ran along your jaw. “You want to cement this? In the middle of a forest, with a man pursuing to kill you?”

You couldn't help but grin. “Wouldn’t that go to show I’m Fae after all? Yes.”

That was all Yunho needed to flip the switch. His fingers dug into your jaw, holding your face in place, as he slanted his lips against yours. You found yourself kissing him back with equal ferocity, a hunger pushing you to be closer to him. 

Yunho grumbled angrily, fumbling at your unfamiliar clothes. Eventually, he managed to push up your sweater and bra above your boobs and was currently sucking on one nipple while massaging your other breast. 

You let out a low whine when his fingers tickled down your ribs, leaving your breast and moving to wriggle under your pants. Your hips bucked forward, looking for that friction that you were craving. 

Yunho grunted, pulling his hand from your pants.

“Wh-why?” You couldn't help but demand. 

“These offend me. They need to be out of the way.” Yunho slipped his thumbs on either side of your hips and yanked down both your pants and your underwear down to your knees. 

Knelt, his face level with your cunt, he spread your pussy lips and started to hearteningly lick at your clit. He had you mewling with the sensation, making your climax built with his skilled tongue. 

“Please, Yunho,” you moaned. “Put your fingers in me.”

This Fae was beyond frustrating. He left your cunt and stood up. You pouted that you weren’t going to feel those wonderful fingers inside of you. 

“I must claim you,” Yunho murmured under his breath. 

His hands moved to his pants and pulled them down under his balls. Your eyes widened in surprise and delight to see that he was long. Fully hard, he bounced against his stomach, and you licked your lips. The weight of him on your tongue would be wonderful, you thought to yourself. 

Yunho bent to scoop your legs from under your knees, effectively bending you in half, your back still against the tree, and your arms still wrapped in Yunho’s shadows above your head. It made it easy for him to slip along your wet folds to aid in pushing into you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned loudly as Yunho’s cockhead pushed into your clenching hole.

Yunho slapped his hand over your mouth again. His eyes were hooded and looking down at you as he slid into you fully. “You are…so warm.” His lips pressed together, and he closed his eyes like he was taking in the moment. “So tight.”

You found yourself enjoying the domineering man melting for your pussy. You clenched down on him and elicited a moan from his beautiful lips. “Fuck me, Yunho,” You whispered. 

His eyes snapped open, dark and glittering. “It would be my pleasure.”

The tall, Fae man jackhammered into you, hips moving at a speed that was sure to split you apart. You made muffled noises of pleasure against Yunho’s hand. 

And when you sneakily licked his palm again, he pulled his hand away, if only to push his fingers into your mouth. The pads of his tongue pressed firmly down on your tongue, effectively silencing you in a different way. 

Yunho’s other hand pressed down on your stomach, and you found your bonded mate smiling at the bulge there. You only moaned again, sucking down eagerly on his fingers. The same hand pressed against your abdomen moved lower until his thumb began thrum against your clit. 

In no time, you were seeing stars. You screamed with Yunho’s fingers in your mouth. It was that good. Your heart felt so full, so complete. A string of gold showed that both your hearts were connected now, permanently with this action done in the Darkling Forest. 

Yunho pulled out and jerked himself off. He bent your body sideways and sent strings of come onto your bare stomach. He cried out with his orgasm, those pretty fingers of his making himself feel good. Yunho coming was a feast for the senses. 

“I’m…I come from…” Yunho panted as he came down from his climax. “My family is fertile. I can’t afford to come inside of you. I don’t want to share with you anyone.”

You grinned, still bent in half. “You do love me!”

Yunho’s ears turned pink at your claim. His eyes wouldn’t meet yours as he let go of your legs and released your wrists. “I…”

You patted Yunho’s cheek fondly. “That’s okay, if I’m a Fae, I’m sure we’ve got plenty of time for you to admit this to me. Now, are you going to tell me the name of the man trying to kill me?”

Yunho’s eyes darkened and giggled. This immortal life was about to become really fun.

[cakerybakery]

Lucifer as a blue whale merman is currently my brain.

Adam is no contact with his religious parents and his twin, Lilith ran away as a teenage because of their abusive parents. So he’s been lying to his parents to for years to get them to pay for his expenses while he’s “in college” to become a marine biologist. In reality he’s been working and saving up to buy a boat to live on.

He’s been fucked off on his boat for years now. Dives and fishes for most of his income, but does odd jobs like taking people out to the islands for research projects.

Has a friend that’s studying this one blue whale that tends to stick close to the bay. Local ledge saying he’s lived for hundreds of years.

As Adam fairies the researchers out to study the whale, he starts to notice this guy he’s seen rarely in town more and more.

Most people don’t know this strange guy in the small community, but he’s not a tourist and he’s unique looking with his nearly white skin and particularly rosy cheeks. He just shows up in town, never talks to anyone, never buys anything. Some people think he’s a ghost, others figure he’s a hermit and lives somewhere out in the forests that line the coast. He’s not dressed particularly well. More like an approximation of what people wear.

Then one day after Adam brings the researchers back in, having lost track of the whale once more. The guy is suddenly there.

He doesn’t talk but points with a curious look and Adam gets it. Adam explains they’re trying to more about the local blue whale. His age and habits, that sort of thing.

Adam figures the guy is just mute or something and that’s why he doesn’t talk to people. The guy mimics a stabbing motion and points to the researchers again. For a moment Adam is worried the guy wants to kill them but then he wiggles his hand and points to the ocean and Adam realizes he’s asking if they’re going to hurt the whale with the tracker they want to put on him.

It’s just a sucker tracker and the guy is pleased as Adam explains what that is and that’s how they see where the whale goes and what he does.

The next time Adam takes the team out, the whale doesn’t run. Rather he comes up to them and allows them to stick the tracker on.

The researchers start to notice that the whale seems to almost follow Adam at times. Adam notices it too.

Perhaps once a week. Otherwise he seems to do normal whale things. The only other oddity is that the tracker glitches at times. Putting the whale in much too shallow water or in town.

Adam starts to find he has a new friend in the town ghost hermit. He pops up and Adam nicknames him Lucifer as the guy offers no name of his own. Not so much as even pointing to something to indicate Adam can call him that.

One night, Adam notices as Lucifer is walking away that he has an odd lump on his back, under his sweater.

He’s curious about the guy and follows Lucifer. Only to watch him wade into the ocean and swim away out of sight.

Adam is worried but Lucifer shows back up a week later.

The researchers mention they’re going to try switching out the tag because it’s busted. Obviously, the whale wasn’t on the docks the night before. Or a week ago, or any of the times Adam had seen Lucifer.

He doesn’t believe in magic or mermaids anymore but Adam’s mind jumps to it anyway.

Next time he sees Lucifer he confronts him, pulling at the sweater and revealing the tracker. He’s proud of himself for being right but Lucifer runs off and he no longer sees his friend.

Adam feels guilty for upsetting his friend but Lucifer stays away until there’s a bad storm and Adam’s boat capsizes. He’s rescued by Lucifer.

He gets a chance to apologize and Lucifer takes him to shore where he transforms into the human Adam knows.

The apology seems to be acceptable as Lucifer starts coming to town again. Adam has good insurance and few expenses so he gets a new boat in a few weeks. He keeps his mouth shut about Lucifer being the whale cause he’s not stupid. No one will believe him anyway.

They continue their odd friendship until Lucifer points to a couple kissing on the docks in a way that Adam has come to understand as wanting him to explain. So he tells Lucifer it’s what couple do.

The next thing he knows his arms are full of Lucifer and he’s being kissed. Sparks fly and Lucifer spends the night in Adam’s bunk.

Adam is left reeling, he got railed by a whale and wanted more.

Their meetings are no longer platonic. And Lucifer learns to speak a bit, doesn’t really like it though.

Eventually, Adam’s parents find him. Being rescued by a whale made it into the news and eventually to his old home town.

So he does what he does best. Packs up and leaves. He docks off one of the nearby deserted islands, wades into the ocean and gets picked up by his boyfriend, the blue whale.

Adam knocks the tracker off. And figures they’ll lay low for a week until his parents give up.

Lucifer takes him to a special place though. A small hidden bay he found when he was only a calf, hundreds of years ago. Chased there by whalers, the place is usually void of life as animals don’t like the vibes of the bay. It gave him the ability to turn human. The whalers found themselves transformed as well into whales but they had less favourable fates than Lucifer.

Some were able to transform back into humans but couldn’t swim or make it to shore, too panicked to become whales. Others couldn’t figure out how to be whales and nature took its course. Still others were hunted by their fellow whalers.

He learned to eat foods from the shore. Filling his belly even though there was little krill for him in the waters. He grew up, but stopped aging. Lucifer protects the hidden bay.

Adam is transform into a blue whale like Lucifer. Lucifer teaches Adam how to swim and eat, how to talk like a whale.

Of course, Adam has grown out of his fantasy of being a mermaid and running away from all things human. He likes his life. So the two are content to meet in the middle.

Adam mainly lives his life as a human. His folks had to go back home and every now and then they show up but no one in town will let them stay there and Adam just secures his boat off an island and hangs out as a whale until they leave again.

Lucifer mainly lives as a whale. Keeping the bay hidden from humans. He joins Adam in the evenings and at night.

And they live happily ever after

[echantedtoon]

Demonstober Day 29 Werewolf

In folklore, a werewolf[a] (from Old English werwulf 'man-wolf'), or occasionally lycanthrope[b] (from Ancient Greek λυκάνθρωπος, lykánthrōpos, 'wolf-human'), is an individual who can shape-shift into a wolf (or especially in modern film, a therianthropic hybrid wolf-like creature), either purposely or after being placed under a curse or affliction (often a bite or the occasional scratch from another werewolf), with the transformations occurring on the night of a full moon.[c] 

(Genya and Y/n are both 20 for this so slightly aged up Genya.)

Tagging: @lavenderdropp @six-eyed-samurai @trancylovecraft @shadyd3ar @cherrysuzaku

@nousija @mspurpl3

Remember if you want to be added to the spooktober taglist lemme know

You really should've just stayed home tonight but no. You just HAD to go to that party. You just HAD to offer to stay late to help clean up. You just HAD to decide to walk home to save money. And you just HAD to decide to take the short cut through the woods home to save you time. Well now you were lost in a stupid costume from the party and stranded in the dark!

The moon shined red as blood tonight as shadows moved.

Quiet night. Unholy night of beasts. Feasting their sights upon the stray women who dare stay out at night when the full moon rises, lighting the pathway for the beasts to claim their prey. Gnashing teeth, snarling fangs waiting to take a bite into innocent flesh where the terrible claws miss. Waiting to snatch you away down into their dark abyss never to return. She was none what so ever concerned about traveling alone tonight. She had better places to be and anyone who dared be foolish enough to tangle with the night would never be heard from again. One look at it would deter most creatures away. But hier business was not with them.

You shivered in the wind that picked up clutching your phone and the small bouquet of flowers closer as you rubbed your shoulders in a vain attempt to bring what limited warmth you had back to your body.

Partially through what was left of the limited moonlight, you passed by some wild trees that made your stomach flip but it came a different feeling.

The feeling of being watched.

It didn't start out that way. At first it was just an aspect in the back of your mind you brushed of as paranoia of the manor's old ghost stories echoing in your mind. The feeling first came around when the sun had just started to set and it wasn't strong enough to warrant anything more than a two second thought and hand waving them off. However thing's changed. The sun soon disappeared over the horizon to be kissed good night by it's counterpart, the moon, and the walking woman was glad that it was a full moon, for it brought moonlight strong enough for you to see the pathway as your feet continued to walk. With it came the feeling but tenfold. You've only felt this way before back at Zephyr University whenever someone wanted to get your attention, that same feeling also returned with the feeling of being followed, but every time your head snapped over your shoulder towards the Darkness behind you....

There would be nothing.

Literally nothing. Nothing but the cold wind starting to pick up. You brushed it off as just your paranoia getting the better of you and you set your jaw against the wind. There was nothing there anyways so what did you have to worry about?

You shivered letting shaking your head. It's just shadows in the dark and your mind playing tricks on you. It urged you to walk faster and faster. 

"Come on, Y/n." You thought to yourself with a shake of your head and a deep inhale. "You're just being irrational is all. You need to get your barrings and figure out what to do with a clear head."

It was probably just an animal. Yeah. The world was full of animals so they must've been a deer. Footsteps fast approached you from behind as you walk. Just a deer. A very BIG deer! You picked up the pace walking and walking soon turning to sprinting with the fast footsteps right behind you following you through the dark forest until you got to a clearing. You ran until you made to the middle of it before sharply stopping and snapping around- 

Only to be met with nothing.

Your lungs heaved as you stared at the dark trees behind you with nothing but limited moonlight and shadows. You heaved at the silence other than the rustling of wind through the leaves. Nothing was behind you. No footsteps. Nothing was chasing you. Just..Nothing was there. You inhaled before giving a large sigh of relief before turning around.

And your shriek echoed throughout the night as you were met with shattered blue and yellow eyes.

A. GIANT. FIGURE. WAS. STARING. AT. YOU!!!

A beast of large dark furred mass. Riding up high with the height of a bear, two yellow eyes gazing down at you as another shriek called out into the night.

She didn't hesitate for a moment. Not even a second. Not when the woman turned around and RAN.

Every runner knows that the first warning sign of danger is a sense of dread, a feeling of impending doom. You are about to run away from a monster. But how do you prepare for this? Y/n had always hated dark forests with its lumbering tall trees. It was a place where she felt fear. The dark teased like taunting bullies, each sway of a branch creaking it's maniacal glee and every whistle the wind whipped by your ears whistled their sick pleasure in watching her panicked state of mind. THUD, THUD, THUD!! Went the sounds of her heels against the GROUND ground and curling tree roots, like spiderwebs under her feet, ready to snag her and make her join the abyss any moment. The darkness caged you in with the mockery of noises, a canopy of night shrouding the way out. But for now you only knew one thing.

RUN.

Your body felt light, only being able to feel every time your feet slapped against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. You could be hurting for the next ten years for all you cared! Please gods just let you get away! Your eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your only hope was to get back to Taylor! Or to get back to the manor! A place you could at least take refuge. Your arm were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran, other hand holding up your dress in a vain attempt to keep from tripping. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and you were forced to start slowly down step by step until you were hugging the side of a tree for life, your arms desperately gripping the rough bark until the imprints were deep in your palm and your knuckles were deep white, forcing your body to step around the tree until you reached it's front and you hid yourself behind it from the direction you just ran from. Your back hit the hard tree and your head tilted towards the heavens, hands clutching your pounding heart. And there was silence other than the mockery of wind and branch creaks. Your throat and lungs were on fire. Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. And you did not dare move in fear of seeing that-...that-....MONSTER somewhere behind you.

That-....That wasn't real r-r-right? It COULDN'T be real! It was just a figment of your imagination projected by your fear! T-That must've been the case!...But then..How were you able to make contact with it if it was just a hallucination? You felt your hand make contact with that thing's grip and you felt the struggle you gave. You stood there, shaking harder than a tree in a tsunami in dead of winter. Other than the gasps of air your body forced you to make, you dared not make a sound. Not a noise. The whole time you stayed perfectly still as ever so slowly your heart rate decreased the longer the silence went on and the longer nothing appeared. Slowly your lungs and throat's fire extinguished with the help of the cold wind you swallowed, and what was left behind was just a dull soreness. The rapid beating of your heart calmed slowly until it was just a little above what it would normally be beating. Your eyes slowly regained focus from the sheer panic. And your body calmed down but not your mind. Your mind still raced in fear from what you just saw and you stared straight up at the creaking branches of the tree you hid behind. The panic still clear and making you do nothing but listen in anticipation, like a rabbit hiding from a pursuing fox. But still...nothing but silence. And when your eyes slowly looked to the right and your face followed until your cheek and side of the face was pressed against the rough tree bark awaiting for any sounds, but nothing still came.

It was a stupid decision...A bad one really but-..

You slowly scraped your back against the back of the tree slowly inching your way to the side of the tree, and ever so slowly, poked your head out. Not all the way. Just enough to look out at the direction you ran from and saw...nothing. Nothing but darkness and trees. And that made you pause. There was...nothing? Nothing at all? Slowly you pushed your head fully out to see better, and took your time grazing your eyesight around the darkness, straining your eyes in the limited light that seeped between the leaves and branches. Quietly listening for anything running after you, but still nothing came. ...You-..You must've lost whatever that was. You exhaled a shaky sigh of relief and slumped back against the tree. Eyes closing as a wave of relief washed over your tired body.

''What am I doing!? Don't just stand there like an idiot!! RUN!!''

You listened to your inner voice, you turned on your heels and began running again taking the opportunity given to you by the gods. You didn't care if you got lost this time, you only cared about living. And so through the darkness the abyss had to offer, you again ran. Not which direction you were heading. Not sure who you'd run into or if you got more lost, but you were darned determined to not be eaten tonight by anyone! Not today demons! Or..zombie.OR WHATEVER THE HECK THAT WAS! You only did what you did before. Your heels clicked against the ground which would surely be sore later, but you didn't care. Your f/c eyes darted around for any signs of escape only being shown endless darkness instead. Your arms were partially extended in front of you, to push and swipe down any bush, branches, and other plants in your way as you ran. Stumbling and half tripping over large tree roots and clumps of grass in your wake, but still making good distance. Until the burning in your lungs threatened to make you drop, and this time the roots claiming your feet snagged onto a particularly large root, and a few feet you went tumbling.

Your screams of tumbling over a few feet were cut short as it felt like you hit every single root, rock, and hard spot on your way down. Pain exploded everywhere your body made contact with the ground until finally with a final thud, your body fell hard onto soft grass. Knocking the air out of your lungs and you gasping for air on your side. Your body was in pain from everywhere your body hit the ground and you were sure it would leave bruises and scratches later. You coughed and gasped for air, lungs burning but you nearly stopped breathing again when load ghost like moaning came from up the path that was DEFINITELY NOT wind making your body feel like it was dipped in ice as your heartbeats sore. No. Not more of them. Not again! Adrenaline kicked in now as your body wobbled and felt so light, not to mention hurt, as you forced yourself to stand and start walk-running away, swaying as you still gasped for air but your panicked state didn't care about the pain or anything as you somehow quickly got your balance back and started running through the dark. The sounds and darkness of the forest blocked almost all moonlight as you blindly ran to try and get away from the giant demons, to keep from being eaten. You ran...and ran...and ran blindly in the dark with your hands in front of you. Branches and other plants hitting your legs and face as you did, the sounds of the things behind you disappearing as you kept running. At one point you had the brilliant idea to look behind you to see if anything was following you-

"AH!"

Your foot once again got caught on something. You screamed as your body went tumbling head over heels down a hill in the dark. Your already sore and hurt body becoming even more so as you rolled and rolled and rolled until you finally came to a stop at the bottom of it onto your back, with your body facing the sky. Your vision swam and your head spun as you stared up dizzily at the sky as your vision slowly went around and around and around until it focused. And you gave a cough as your burning lungs heaved against your chest. Your heart feeling as if it'll explode any moment it was beating so fast, you couldn't stop it! You just sat there gasping and panting and clutching your chest. Your brain felt foggy. No...No. Don't black out now! Get up! COME ON GET UP!! Muscles burnt. Barely able to breath. The dirt and grass felt stinging cold and burnt your skin as you turned on your side to weakly lay on your stomach, your face gasping the sweet scent of grasses for a moment as you laid there for a sweet few silent seconds, before you allowed yourself to look up and you stopped..gasping heavily and staring at what was before you.

A pair of feet.

Slowly you looked up at where the feet were attached to crouched legs and the legs were attached to a torso. You looked up higher and higher until you were inches away from a pair of yellow eyes. And you froze.

The moonlight shown down from the sky and illuminated the face of a-..Man. You blinked as a man's face looked right back at you with a curious expression and tilt of his head. He looked early twenties and had a scar running across his left cheek over part of his nose. He suddenly leaned forward causing you to help and scramble back away from him as he sniffed around the air.

What the heck?!

He also paused as you scrambled back and you both stared at one another. It was then that you noticed something else. A pair of fluffy black ears sprouted from the top of his head that twitched. A giant bushy black tail swaying side to side with the next tilt of his head. What in the-  Was another person out here lost in the woods wearing a costume? He stood there for a long time before his face turned a pink and he looked at the side lightly.

"Um...D-Does this mean you accepted me now?"

You stared at him for a while before blinking. "What?"

"W-Well we were playing chase, and I-I caught up-..You were-..." He suddenly looked very very guilty. "W-Were you not p-playing hard to get?"

"I-...What in the world are you talking about?"

He blinked finally looking back to you. "It's full moon." He said gesturing to the moon in the sky. "Once a moon we always go out to find life partners. How come you don't know that?"

...You slowly stood up still incredibly confused about what this man was trying to say. "I have no idea what you're talking about about. Or why you're running around in that ridiculous costume."

"Costume?"

"Yeah. Costume." You reached up and shocked him when you pulled off the headband that still had your fake wolf ears from your costume still attached to it. He looked absolutely shocked as you held it up to him. "It's Halloween. Everyone dresses up for it."

"I-..I-..." He sputtered in a panic looking between your headband and you clearly shocked and panicked. Before he finally gulped. "Oh no... Sanemi's going to kill me when he finds out. W-W-Why are you running around in the woods wearing that?!"

"I was taking a shortcut but I got lost then you showed up and chased me through the woods."

"I'm sorry!" Immediately his face busted out red again. "I thought you were BEAUTIFUL and no other shewolf had bothered to give me the time of day so when you didn't try to attack me and ran off I thought you were just playing chase and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop! Time out!" You held up your hands to stop the word vomit coming out from his mouth and blinked. "First of all why would you think me running away in terror was me 'playing' and secondly what the heck are you talking about?"

"Im..a werewolf." You only stared at him before he gave a kicked puppy whine and grabbed his ears pulling them down in worry. "This is bad. This is bad. Now a human knows about me and I'm still single. I mess up everything. Sanemi is going to kill me and think I'm still a wimp-"

You stopped listening after he said 'werewolf'. Werewolf?...This guy who was having a midlife crises was a vicious man eating werewolf? There wasn't anything even remotely monstrous about him! Well other than those ears and the tail and his black and yellow eyes and his black claws and those fangs- OK! He DID look monstrous but he didn't look like that stereotypical werewolf you've seen in movies and books. You jumped when you noticed that he had stopped the second round of word vomit and looked at you hopefully. 

Face red and ears back tail wagging like a storm. "I-...I have a solution. W-Will you please be my partner?"

You blinked. "Will you be my partner?"

"YES!" You jumped as he suddenly grabbed your shoulders with a bright red face. "I accept! I-ILL be a good husband I swear! I can't wait for you to meet my family!" With a cute smile he looked relieved. "They'll love you too! I promise."

What..just happened?

[theshadowsingersraven]

this nyxlin drama lowkey reminds me of the time a zutara artist was run off tumblr because they drew aged up katara/zuko romantically, but I think it was actually angry kataang’s or e/riel’s -because they also drew gwynriel and e/riel’s were jealous- who were stirring up shit 😭

That would honestly make a lot of sense for how/why I didn't see many posts from them or overall in the Nyxlin tag when I was catching up on what happened. Pretty much every person (notably largely Elriels) who supported Elain Week's censorship got an insta-block from me if they weren't already. And I'm sure a decent amount of people blocked me from my stance on Elaingate, Rhys Week, and Nyxlin Week.

And good! You should block me. Seriously. Art has the right to be celebrated and appreciated, especially in the circumstances designed to do that for a specific character and dynamic! Character appreciation and celebration will never look the same to everyone, and just because it's not what you enjoy doesn't mean it stops being appreciative or celebratory. If you can't grasp that, you don't deserve access to my art anyway. You certainly don't deserve to be in my space, that's for damn sure. Kindly, get out.

Honestly, it kind of makes sense considering the overlap of canon rigidity, purity culture, and morality policing of fiction coming from sides of the fandom that generally can't accept criticism about their faves, or even things that go against what they want for their faves. They are terrified of creativity that doesn't give them what they want and it shows. It's the most Evangelical-ass shit ever, and it's fucking weird.

Like...for all intents and purposes, Nyx is an OC in any works that feature him. And I'd know, because I wrote an adult Nyx for my ongoing ACOTAR D&D campaign set 20 years after ACOSF. So yes, Nyx is twenty in my timeline, because it's writing and I can do what I want lol. I have no basis to write Nyx off of other than Rhys and Feyre. Which means...I'm still doing my own character-building to only less than I would for a completely new OC.

Let's compare, shall we?

Writing my OC Solara's backstory: Writing her parents from scratch ✔️ Writing her early childhood ✔️ Writing her trauma ✔️ Writing her adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing her interests and adventures as she became an adult✔️ Writing her dynamic with her love interest and how she interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

Now obviously these are all at minimum influenced by/will be derivative of aspects of ACOTAR because, y'know, transformative works. But still, I made her.

Writing Nyx's backstory and how he is as a twenty-year-old adult: Writing his parents from scratch ❌ Writing his early childhood ✔️ Writing any trauma he might have ✔️ Writing his adolescence and relationships ✔️ Writing his interests and adventures as he became an adult ✔️ Writing his dynamic (collaboratively) with his love interest and how he interacts with Prythian as a whole ✔️

And this is a version of Nyx that I made. Yes, it's still influenced by canon, but if I put in 90% of the same effort to write him as an adult as I did a complete OC, we can acknowledge they're functionally the same.

It's not that people look at Baby!Nyx and instantly think he's perfect to be shipped with someone and there's something to be gleaned from canon about him in particular. We know nothing about Nyx as an individual. That applies to any Nyx ship.

The appeal, at least in my experience, to Nyx ships, including Nyxlin, is the dynamics at play around Nyx, i.e., his role as an eventual leader and powerful figure in the Night Court, the dynamics that affect Rhys and Feyre also extending to him, how the rest of Prythian/Illyria might view the first offspring of High Fae, Illyrian, and Made parents. It's about his circumstances, not him as a character because he is not a "character yet", he just exists!

People are just creative enough to consider those long-term effects on who he could become and how that interplays with other characters. I don't mean to be cruel, but genuinely, have these people never created an OC before? Have they never shipped anything outside of canon? Have they never read any fics featuring time travel, for example, as a plot point to get characters in the same era at the same time when otherwise the ship would not be able to happen? Are they that unfamiliar with making circumstances outside of SJM's canon to allow things to happen for fun?

Genuinely, the lack of creativity for all of us being in this for reading and writing is concerning.

Even just saying this and advocating for Nyxlin's right to be celebrated as well as Tamlin as a whole pretty much puts me in the position of having to tag this as pro-Tamlin. And I wouldn't even describe myself as anything other than Pro-Azriel and probably Pro-Nesta and Pro-Elain because I don't really dislike any characters. I'm equally as critical to all of them and if their good parts just sort of cancel out the bad or are only a bit outweighing one or the other...I don't actively dislike them, I'm just neutral about them.

But this fandom is so fucking polarized because of the toxicity and the Us v.s. Them, Morality Policing culture that's been festering, people can't even neutrally address something. People are harassed so quickly just for not understanding or being familiar with something, and then in the other court people do the harassing because they don't understand or aren't familiar with something the other party likes/dislikes. If don't utterly despise Tamlin, it's somehow considered supportive enough to qualify as "pro" to antis.

Too many people in this fanbase create this parasocial-adjacent attachment to these characters like they're real and have real feelings/boundaries that need to be protected. They are not! Characters can't be hurt by anything happening outside the narrative. Just because you personally do not like something/don't find it appealing or even find it discomforting does not mean it's morally objectionable. It's just not for you, and understanding that experiencing content not made for you is not an attack on you is kind of a necessary life skill.

This rant ended up way longer than I expected it to be, but anyway...y'all stay safe out there.

[crystaldoodler]

A very long post of doodles relating to @theminecraftbee ‘s smallishsona AU (sorry for the tag again). I think of this AU while wandering Tartarus, so, I’ve had a lot of time to think. This post is really long and has a lot of rambling so, I’m putting it all under the cut. I’m sorry world I have too many words and rambles in me

First up, character designs!

I used primarily their mc skins for design, with only a few rl things thrown in. But, I didn’t bring them up so the colors are off a bit.

Starting off with Joel:

He’s following the persona protagonist tradition of mostly wearing the school uniform correctly, but with some minor embellishments. I’m still debating whether or not to add more, but w/e. His signature color is green.

Then Skizz and Impulse:

The greatest dichotomy of time to design, Impulse I knocked out on the second go, but I’ve done many iterations of Skizz and I still am not satisfied with this design. The ripped sleeves looked too out there (to me, at least) but nothing else seems to work so I settled for the shirt under uniform shirt look. Something I struggled with that these two emphasize is making them look like teenagers, and what they look like, and also keep to the anime style, and also my own incompetence with drawing facial features so It’s something all of these lack in. Impulse is yellow, and Skizz is blue.

Scar and Grian are next up, Scar’s facial Scar is from summoning his persona, because he stabbed himself in the face lol. Not much to say about these guys, I settled on orange for Scar and red for grian, which I am still struggling with beacause mumbo:

is ALSO red. So I guess they are just, both? red? If you look at the party select screens in persona though, the characters have pretty strong color coding, so I guess I’ll figure something out. If anyone is still reading: help. Anyway, mumbo wins the award for wearing the uniform the most normal (except for the tie)

Last but not least, Gem!

She’s wearing a longer skirt than the usual uniforms and also some big-ass boots. Also, she’s a sea monster thing? So, I was thinking, staring at SEES cool new uniform things and thinking about the Phantom Thieves and how cool their outfits are and realized the persona games have at least some design change to separate their daily looks from shadow hunting. Even if it is only glasses in p4 lol. So, I thought maybe weapon holsters? but, that seemed a little too generic. So! I decided to combine how I normally draw the hermits (and a lot of the fandom does) as having non-human traits as the big things setting their combat looks apart. It is both a) fun to draw, b) creates an eye catching and distinctive design for combat and c) is really funny. I thought it was funny so I drew a comic about it:

and here’s a sketch of what everyone looks like and also the transformation gives them very distinct eyes, for no reason other than I think it looks cool:

mumbo is a normal human btw (or at least, he appears to be)

Welp,that’s all I got. If I look at these drawings any longer I will hate them so here they are, yippee. Also, Bee/OP, sorry for exploding; I am into persona and hermitcraft right now so this AU is like a perfect storm to give me brain rot.

[universe-prime]

Are you in need of transport A.S.A.P?

Looking to deliver some goods across Cybertron faster than a turbo-fox chasing its own tail?

Tired of having to keep track of overbearing lists and passports just for a single ride to the city??

Well look no further than Cybertron's finest—

The mighty Click-Clack and Co.~!!

I've been thrown back into my transformers love HARD and decided to revamp/create a bunch of ocs to cope with it lmao. Anyway, meet Click-Clack and(a small part) of his dandy crew~! Click-Clack(or just Clacker for short) specializes in delivering all manner of goods and services across the vast expanse of Cybertron in just a few days time. Whether it be weapons, medical supplies, building materials, or simply an independent company needing help traveling from point A to B, he doesn't really discriminate and just LOVES doing his duty as a gigantic mailman train

To really put Clacker into perspective, I put him beside a few iconic bots from tfa...👀💦

And as an added fun bonus, I even made a map of his internal layout when he's in train mode(which is pretty much his default tbh)

But what's a train without his helpful crew, ey? This is only a small part of it, my pal @simplych4i has ocs that cover a good majority, but I can at least give a quick overview on these fellas!!

Needlepoint

The one and only medic! If there's an incident or injury, she'll take care of you with a patient servo and a caring spark

She was assigned to Clacker due to a recent scandal that ruined her career. Her patients mysteriously wound up dead or missing memories while under her care, and enough of these reports piled up to the point where her license was revoked and no respectful hospital would ever hire her again

Overall she's a doting maternal figure to the crew and, although a bit quiet and reserved, she's always happy to lend a shoulder to cry on or a listening audial fin

SpRocket

Self proclaimed demolitions expert and part-time mechanic! Should the train ever be attacked by Decepticon's raiding it for it's cargo, or any other outside threat, she's there on the front lines ready to blast them back to the hole they crawled out of

Former Elite Guard, Rocket(she claims the "S and P" are silent👀) was quickly demoted and shunned from her station due to her "sudden" fatuation with explosives and anything that could cause them. After a near-death experience that nearly extinguished her spark, she went off on a personal mission to recreate the enlightening blast that started it all in the hopes of "seeing utopia" once again...whatever that means

Nowadays, Rocket is just as explosive as her passion. Loud-mouthed and unafraid to speak her mind, she's always ready to slam a fist into anyone who crosses her path while also gleefully spreading a few headaches across her fellow crewmates

Tag

And lastly, our head of navigation! Despite their age, Tag has a natural gift for plotting out routes, understanding complicated maps, and making sure that there's always a backup route should the current one ever be interrupted

(Former)delivery mailbot by day, graffiti street artist by night, Tag often explored the seediest parts of Cybertron along their route and saw the injustice firsthand. Using their artistic talent and the access they had to private letters, they'd anonymously paint rebellious ideology and personal defamation against elites as a way of speaking out. Tag's artistic trail was eventually traced back to them, and they were swiftly demoted to a spot on the Click-Clack

Tag is overall what you might expect from a young bot who was practically raised in the underbelly of Cybertron. Cute and sweet one minute, then cutthroat and petty the next, overall Tag is just a bundle of energy constantly looking to prove themself alongside the much older "adult" bots of the crew they're with. They can't quite grasp why everyone insists on protecting them so much, but slowly Tag has learned to accept this ragtag group of weirdos and ex-convicts as their true family

And that's about it!! These guys have been flooding my mind for DAYS and if you've actually made it this far, thank you thank you🥺🤙 I can't wait to post more stuff about them, I'm rattling them around in my brain SO hard

[not-ur-boy-toy]

Hartbreak Ranch Chapter 2

AN: Chapter 2 has finally arrived after a massive delay!! Not much romance going on so far for the two, BUT, it is getting there, I'm trying to not get too impatient, but gotta build it up... ;D If you'd like to be tagged in this series, please let me know as well! :)

TW: foul language, addiction mention as well as drugs mentioned (lightly)

Word count: 3.4k

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“Who the hell are you? What are you doing in my home?”.

The voice rang out through the living room as Shawn stood still as a statue. It was an odd situation. Shawn was in the middle of the room, in the middle of nowhere, by himself. He didn’t exactly blend in either, he couldn’t have been an ‘neighbour’ just coming to borrow some sugar. By any sane person’s mind, they would have thought he was trying to rob them. Shawn knew he should have answered by now, but his mind was elsewhere… Mostly admiring the cowboy in front of him.

“Oh uhh.. I-.. Well..-” Shawn stuttered out before being interrupted by the man who now stood in the doorway, his warm chocolate eyes now holding a dangerous glare. 

“Spit it out, I don’t need a story. Name and what the hell are you doing in my home” the guy repeated with a slight hiss, aggression now starting to build up in his tone as he moved  towards Shawn. 

This was all that Shawn needed to reply back as quick as possible. He had dealt with plenty of fights before. But, that was with a bodyguard who knew about his bad temper and sharp tongue. Cowboys weren’t his forte to fight with either..

“Sorry! Right, I’m Shawn, I’m guessing your brother, Owen, brought me here!” Shawn blurted out quickly, not risking to anger the other.

Shawn was praying that Owen would return fast, especially as the man stared Shawn down. It was hard to figure out what he was thinking, especially as the guy stayed quiet. Was he gonna punch Shawn? Beat him up? Or perhaps Kiss him?... Probably not the last one. The blond really needed to stop watching those romance films at 2AM. 

The doubtful look Shawn was given was surely about to seal his fate. His money winner face (literally) was about to get decked by an attractive, muscular guy and thrown out into the middle of nowhere again. Shawn backed up slightly, trying to give himself a bit of space in case things turned, however, fate was clearly on his side for once as he heard Owen’s chirpy voice from behind.

“Bret! Didn’t know you’d be here yet,” Owen laughed out as he walked over with a grin, oblivious to the growing tension in the room, “Shawn here is just stayin’ with us for a few days, I felt awful leaving him in town… His car had broken down and you know how far the closest motel is”.

Bret, which Shawn just learnt the man-who-was-gonna-beat-his-ass name was, stared at Shawn one last time before those same dangerous eyes softened as they looked at Owen. 

“You have too much of a soft heart, Owen… You know how I feel about bringing strangers home” Bret lightly scolded Owen, although Bret did receive an odd stare from his brother. One that clearly read that he didn’t actually know what the other was talking about at all.

“Don’t be such a grump, Ma and Pa don’t mind people being here.. Or well at least Ma doesn’t,” Owen chuckled out before looking at Shawn, “Oh! Sorry Shawn, this is my brother, Bret, don’t mind him, he can be quite the grouch after a long day”.

Once again, Bret and Shawn stared at each other, the tension building once again. 

“Nice to meet ya, Bret” Shawn hummed out trying to break the ice, however, his attempt was pushed away as Bret walked towards the kitchen instead, mumbling under his breath something about ‘lemonade’. Owen gave Shawn a small pitiful smile,

“Like I said, don’t mind him, I don’t know what’s up with him…”, Owen glanced over his shoulder to look in the direction Bret went before huffing and turning back to the blond, “Anyways.. Let me take you to the guests room!”.

Heading upstairs with suitcase in hand, Shawn followed after the cheerful man. The next floor of the house continued the rustic, homey feeling, having plenty of family photos dotted around, however this time, flowers in vases decorated the hallway on small, pine cabinets. Lavenders, some roses and a few other flowers that Shawn didn’t know were blooming from the elegant vases, filling the area with a soft, relaxing and refreshing aroma. There were five different doors, one on the left that was white with painted pink flowers and ‘Diana’ painted delicately across it, another next to it  was a pine door with painted on sunflowers, the third was a dark mahogany door with simple gold detailing. Across those doors were two other doors, one was a double door, clearly the master bedroom, and the furthest away was just a simple pine door. Owen guided Shawn past the doors until they reached the plain pine door. He opened the door with a soft smile, 

“This will be your room, if you need any blankets let me know… If you need me, my door is the one with the sunflowers”, Owen hummed slightly, trying to think if there was anything else he needed to tell the other. “I’ll knock on when supper is done” With one last smile, Owen left Shawn to get comfortable, heading to his own room.

The black boots Shawn wore clicked softly against the wooden floor as he entered the room that he’d call ‘home’ for the next few days. Compared to the rest of the house that the model had seen, this room felt rather… empty. There weren't any family photos, there weren't any carefully embroidered pillows or even any bright colours. Instead, the room had a simple double bed in the centre of the room, leaned against the right empty wall, the bedding was a cool white with a few fluffy pillows that looked like they were brand new and untouched. Two bedside tables laid beside the bed, both having a pull-cord lamp and one had a singular alarm clock that seemed to echo in the room. Next to the bed, there was another closed door which Shawn assumed was the bathroom. On the opposite side of the room, there were two panel doors, which once again, Shawn assumed was a wardrobe. A lounge chair sat in the corner of the room with a small table next to it, however there was nothing on it. No flowers, no leftover mug of coffee. This room truly felt abandoned, almost lonely compared to the rest of the house that Shawn saw. The only thing that was rather interesting to look at was the window which showed off the large farm from behind. He could see a few roaming animals around as well as an old barn by a few, large trees.

A soft huff left Shawn’s lips as he leaned his suitcase against the wall, admiring the view he had, “Just a few days… that’s all..” he quietly reminded himself.

Getting himself situated in the room didn’t take too long at all. Shawn had hung up his clothes which he deemed weren’t entirely appropriate to wear at a farm, his extra pair of shoes were lined up in the wardrobe, and he had made sure his cigs and bottle of vodka was hidden away in one of the bedside tables. He was gonna save them for when he met up with Ramon, Kid and Diesel, but desperate times called for desperate measures if he needed them. He even had some ‘extra’ measures hidden in his cig packs as well, something that relaxed him more than the cigs. But that was for extreme desperate times. Or fun times. Shawn’s shampoo and conditioner was lined up in the bathroom right next to his cherry and vanilla scented body wash, his hairbrush, toothbrush and toothpaste was also placed on the sink as well. It felt mostly like home now. Although, there was a small problem. Or well, two small problems. One was that there was no TV, did these people live like cavemen? And the second, his phone was getting pretty low and there was no plug socket.. He had double checked the whole room just to make sure! There was none behind the bedside tables, there was none behind the chair that could be hidden, there wasn’t even one in the bathroom! 

Staring at his phone screen, he weighed out his options. He could ignore his phone, save up the battery… But  having Diesel panic and get on his ass? Yeah, he needed to phone up his bodyguard. Shawn paced around the room as he held the phone to his ear, listening to the ringing before that familiar gruff voice appeared as Diesel picked up.

“Shawn? Everything alright? Are you at your hotel?” The questions instantly rang in from the protective man which made Shawn awkwardly chuckle.

“Yeaah… About that…”

“Shawn, please don’t tell me you’re lost”

The blond chewed on his bottom lip nervously, “Well… Not exactly lost… I mean, I don’t know where the fuck I am…” he started, “But don’t panic! I’m safe, I’m all good, just gonna be late for the photoshoot, y’know?”.

A deep sigh filled Shawn’s ear from the otherside of the phone, he could tell that Diesel was rubbing his temple.

“Telling me to not panic makes me panic more… and how late are you talking about?” the bodyguard questioned.

“Well, maybe a day or two… or more… I don’t know ‘kay?! My damn car broke down, but this guy is fixin’ it up” Shawn mumbled out before moving the phone away from his ear as he knew what was going to happen.

“YOUR CAR BROKE DOWN?! I KNEW I SHOULD'VE DROVE YOU HERE!” the voice bellowed down the phone as Shawn played with a strand of his silky hair. “Jesus fucking Christ Shawn, just-.. Are you at least somewhere safe?” Diesel asked with a loud huff.

Shawn moved the phone back to his ear before speaking, “Yeah, I’m safe, my phone is probably gonna die though, just gotta find somewhere to char-”

“AND YOUR PHONE IS ABOUT TO DIE?!”

A small hiss left Shawn’s lips as Diesel’s voice picked up again, “Let me finish my sentence, asshole! Givin’ me a goddamn headache, I get your point!” Shawn tried to argue back but the model was greeted by silence. “Diesel?” He hummed out, “... Big Sexy??” Shawn continued, believing the other was being petty enough to give him the silent treatment, “Kevin???”. Finally, Shawn glanced at his phone being greeted by a dead screen, “FUCK!” he hissed out in anger, throwing the phone on the bed without a care. Just what he needed. His phone dead, Diesel being pissed off and probably thinking he was dead… Shit, he really needed a smoke.

Grabbing his pack of smokes and his trusty lighter, Shawn made his way out of the room and down the stairs before making his way outside. He had no idea if they let people smoke on their property, they probably didn’t, but he was desperate for a fix. Standing outside of the house, Shawn took out one of the cigs and placed it between his thin lips before flicking his lighter a few times to produce a small flame. He held it under the cig before he breathed in deeply, relishing in the feeling of the harsh smoke filling his lungs before blowing it out of his lungs. The familiar taste of menthol was one that was always calming, something he had always chosen as a young teen, they were the cheapest, but they were perfect in his eyes. Sure, he enjoyed a good cigar, it made him feel confident- almost unstoppable. But a Marlboro blue cigarette? Nothing could beat that feeling of a soft burn, it reached an itch that some would call an addiction, but Shawn called it self-soothing. Another puff of smoke left his lips as he glanced around the farm. The sun was already starting to set. It was rather beautiful to see, watching pinks and oranges blur together as the sun started to dip behind the horizon…

Shawn was thrown out of his thoughts at the sound of footsteps behind him and a low voice filling his ears again.

“If you’re gonna smoke, at least have an ashtray nearby” Bret mumbled out as he placed a ceramic ashtray on the edge of the patio fence, “...Everything alright? I heard yelling” Bret continued as he stood at the top of the patio stairs.

Shawn turned around, cig still gently dangling from his lips, his baby blues meeting the warm chocolate ones in a stare, “I didn’t expect you to have one… But yeah, I’m fine, just peachy..” he huffed out, his eyes going to the floor as he kicked at a bit of dirt on the ground. He took another drag from his cig before moving over near the patio to flick off the ash that lingered on the edge into the ashtray. 

“Mhm, sure, peachy,” Bret answered back, his warm eyes never leaving Shawn’s lean figure. Shawn’s baby blues glanced back up at Bret, fidgeting slightly. He wasn’t one to keep his mouth shut, especially when it came to drama. Even if it was about himself. Or perhaps it was the way Bret looked at him like he was an actual person? Shawn wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but let the truth flood out.

“... My phone has died, I don’t know how long I’ll be here for, Diesel is pissed off at me like it’s my fault…” Shawn spat out the truth, his eyes looking back at the ground as he took another puff of the cigarette in his hand. Smoke flooded out his mouth before he continued, “Like, sure, maybe I shouldn’t have taken a small ‘shortcut’... Or actually listened to him… But still, fuck, It’s not my fault” He huffed out. Bret raised a brow. He wasn’t sure which part he was more shocked at, maybe it was the fact that this ‘Diesel’ was pissed off at him, or perhaps it was the way Shawn deflected.

“But anyways, I’ll be out of your lovely hair, you clearly don’t like strangers,” A soft, sarcastic chuckle left Shawn as he pushed the cig against the ashtray, “Thanks for the ashtray and well, that little rant” he thanked quietly.

“It’s fine… And don’t feel like you need to leave fast, you just caught me in a bad time” Bret awkwardly apologised, rubbing the back of his neck, “If you need to phone someone, we’ve got a landline phone you can borrow” he offered with a small shrug. 

“Ha, thanks for the offer handsome, but I don’t exactly remember phone numbers, got too many to remember” Shawn chuckled out again, he wished he remembered Diesel’s phone number or even Hunter’s… he knew part of Marty’s number, but even if he remember his number, they hadn’t even spoken in years… 

Bret was surprised at the name ‘handsome’, it was very sudden but he shrugged it off quickly, “I can get Owen to take your phone and charge it as the repair shop, I know there isn’t any plugs in this house- Never has been, never will, that’s the old man’s orders, but the shop has one” He offered again, hoping to ease the mans tension as well as an apology for their first meeting.

“I-... I suppose that isn’t a bad idea at all… Thank’s Bret” Shawn smiled softly, “I’ll give you it tomorrow, or Owen, whoever I find first, but thank you” his blue eyes took one more look around the ranch before looking back at Bret, “I’ll see you inside, if I stay out any longer I’ll be tempted to have another cig” Shawn tried to joke, gently shaking the box of cigs he held, but it was the truth. He would have had another cig- Or probably the whole box and his ‘fun sticks’ as he liked to call them as well. He gave Bret another small smile before heading inside of the house, brushing past the bigger man.

Bret glanced over his shoulder, watching as the man made his way inside the house. Questions continued to wrap around his brain about Shawn. Who was Diesel? Why would he be upset with Shawn? Where was he even heading to make a shortcut through the middle of nowhere? Even Bret knew it was a silly mistake to make. His thick brows furrowed together as he huffed, his eyes glancing over towards the sunset. He stayed for another moment, watching as the sun ducked behind the horizon, the sky getting darker and the warm air grew colder. He took a deep breath in, the smell of Shawn’s cheap cigarettes still clinging to the air as one final question ran through his head. Sure he had met other strange characters, like his soon-to-be brother-in-law Davey Boy Smith, but Shawn was a lot more different than him. He didn’t fit in, he didn’t fit in the town nearby nor the farm life itself by the looks of his clothes and the way he held himself. His hair and clothes were too perfect for a man who was stressed about being stranded in the middle of nowhere, there wasn’t any out of place hair in sight or a crease in his clothes… Who the hell was Shawn?... Bret shook his head slightly, he was just simply overthinking about Shawn, that’s all.

Night had quickly arrived by the time Owen knocked on the guest door to announce that supper was done. The dinner table was on the biggerside, having about twelve chairs around the table and only a few of the chairs were being used. He met the patriarch of the Harts, Stu, and his Mrs, Helen. Much like Bret, Stu wasn’t as welcoming, but Helen was his saviour. She had welcomed him with open arms, Owen clearly took after his mother. He had met Diana who was sweet, she was the youngest daughter of the Harts. He had also learnt that the family was rather large, having twelve siblings all together, but most of the kids had moved out. The supper was something he needed, something relaxing, and soul soothing from how fresh and hearty the soup and bread he ate. He did notice Bret missing from the table, which must of been the usual as Owen’s voice perked up,

“Bret usually misses his supper, he’ll be checking on the animals making sure their water is good and they have food” He explained before taking a sip of water, “He’ll have it later”. That eased Shawn’s curiosity, leaving it without another question. 

After the meal, Shawn thanked them, especially for the welcomed hospitality before heading to the guest room. He changed out of his clothes, hanging them up before fully getting ready for bed. Shawn had a strict regime that he followed, he would wash his face before cleansing it, then he would moisturise as well. He had to keep his face looking young, obviously. He would then brush his hair before tying it up into a ponytail, he’d also have a whiskey over ice and even a cigar before brushing his teeth.

Usually after his little routine, he would stay up late in his penthouse, he’d sit on his large, comfy couch that was as soft as clouds and watch a few films before going to bed. On bad nights, he wouldn’t sleep. He’d instead sit outside on his balcony, watching the bright city of New York light up the dark sky, replacing the stars he couldn’t see. It was called the city that never sleeps for a reason. Yet, being in this home, he felt as if he wouldn’t have a bad night, that he could actually rest without an issue.

The guest bed wasn’t exactly as comfy as his bed at home, but he was used to other beds, especially when he travelled. It was the comfiest he had in awhile, he seemed to sink in like his own bed somewhat, and it didn’t feel like stone like a few five star hotel beds did. The room wasn’t fully pitch black either, which didn’t annoy him as much as he thought it would. The curtains that covered the window in the room were thin, letting in the natural light of the moon and stars outside fade in which tempted him to go and admire… but he’d leave that for a sleepless night. Even the sounds of crickets outside didn’t annoy him even if he enjoyed  silence when he slept. They chirped out a symphony that lulled Shawn to a somewhat peaceful sleep.

[getcuboned]

The hardest thing for a show to do without absolutely Destroying its audience's belief in stakes is fake out deaths. It happens all the time during a season or even series finale: A main character dies, but then is revealed to be mildly/moderately/extremely hurt (throw a dart).

All the emotional payoff a character dying is immediately followed up with a cathartic return of a beloved figure. When its done right, it's Effective. That's why it was so popular, that and another reason.

The other reason is that its relatively Easy. It doesn't require the writers to change the status quo. Silly fun adventures with the gang go on as always without any real changes. This is so Cost and Idea effective, that it got overused and now everyone is jaded.

Now there's good ways to do this of course. AtLA comes to mind: Genuine threat of death, maguffin from last season finale which has been haunting the previous episodes comes into play, and the status quo changes: Aang is recovering from a serious injury for weeks, is furious that he died and failed Again when the world needed him, and he can't tap into god mode anymore.

So what's this got to do with the tags? Well if you know you know. Otherwise spoiler warning so gtfo already.

Sir Pentious, and I suspect Adam, did die a fakeout death, but the death part was genuine. Sir Pentious was not found in the rubble of the Hotel. Sir Pentious didn't respawn and explain that Adam's divine energy beams weren't angelic steel. Sir Pentious was Genuinely dead and the status quo has genuinely changed.

But! The show's premise is that the Hotel can help sinners redeem themselves. Redeption isn't a reward you seek. Its a condition that one meets on a personal, individual level. Sir Pentious came to the Hotel as a spy, and when he was shown that Charlie was willing to forgive him, it changed his understanding of the world. He realized that he could improve, it just starts with one good sorry.

Sir Pentious put aside his self loathing, his shame, his anxieties. He used his inventions to put himself on the line rather than keep himself out of danger (I mean that's what the airship is all about isn't it?). He fought for the people he cared about. He died to protect the ones he loved. And that transformation: from a paranoid worm of a human being (slimy? Snakes are not slimy), to an actualized individual willing to put himself on the line, earned him salvation.

Now Sir Pentious is an Angel! He's in Heaven! Even more so he bypassed the Pearly Gates and functionally respawned In the Seraphim's boardroom. Frankly He was one of the older sinners to be around so it doesn't surprise me the implication that he's powerful enough be worth the notice of the Seraphims.

So what about Adam? Why do I mention him? He was killed by a filthy janitor. Well. As another post mentioned: In the 10,000 years that Adam has been in charge of killing his own descendants because Lilith and Eve (where the fuck is she anyway?) screwed him over with the assistance of a short, dumb, naive angel (poor guy just wanted to share his ideas, look at him. 10,000 years later and he's hardly got a drop of malice in him that isn't put there by someone else), Adam has become Prideful, Slothful, Lustful, and Wrathful. Even one of those is enough to make you fall. Yet he was tolerated by heaven, most likely due to his extenuating circumstances.

Adam has died. He died full of Wrath, and Pride. He died because he was unmotivated to come up with a better solution, and unwilling to keep himself in shape. He died because of his Blood Lust.

So I think that very early on in season two, we will get to see Adam's demonic form.

Two fakeout deaths! But not really. Both characters have provably died and both (theoretically) will create a new status quo not just by dying, but by reincarnating across enemy lines.