#arghhh hate it in here

[i-had-a-dream-about-you]

art i made for my fic where stone gets shot and rob is there to patch him up <333 silly rob lowered the anesthetic dosage because he's so pissed about it (also because his assistant looks so good when he suffers— *gets shot* (in my defense they're both freaks your honor </3))

here's the link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65911009

beware of the tags! there's nothing actually legit freaky going on tho it's mostly just angst because i was emo.

[aka-indulgence]

Tweaking rn

[peachyfnaf]

sometimes this app is a hellsite but i'll be damned if im not proud that we're pretty much unanimously agreeing this arc is shit IST8ST8A8AGIA

[paixarina]

i miss amino but i fucking hate medialab for taking away its charm and made it into another capitalistic shit that caters onto greedy corp money hungry rats.

[thelov3lybookworm]

um. moony ill have to ask you to pay for my therapy after this. please and thank you🫶🏻

Taken /// Azriel X F!Reader X Cassian

Summary: Azriel doesn't notice what he had until he lost it. Inspired by Taken from One Direction.

Warnings: Angst and smut!

Word Count: 3,1K

Notes: I don't plan to write a second part for this and if you want to blame someone for the angst, it's all @fieldofdaisiies fault for encouraging me...

Main Masterlist

For centuries she loved him, what started with a silly crush, developed to love with time. She was always there for him, waiting until he felt what she felt, loved her the way she loved him, but for centuries she waited for crumbs of his attention, he wouldn’t even spare a glance in her direction, barely giving a thought about her.

She learned to live with the constant pain and yearning, nurturing a little spark of hope in the depths of her heart, that maybe, if she showed him enough affection and loved him from afar, something would change and he would finally notice her the way she wanted to. But that never happened. 

He never looked at her with love and admiration, never reached out for her to know how she was doing, never took a liking in her interests and who she was outside her job as a emissary, that was all she was to him and all she ever was going to be, someone invisible, unworthy of his time and attention. 

She knocked on his door, slightly shaking, for some time now the thought of talking to him left her nervous, the comfort she felt whenever she was around him slowly vanishing and leaving the bitter taste of indifference behind. He commanded her in, and as she pushed the  door open, she spotted him on his desk, papers scattered around and a steaming mug of tea on the side. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Az.” She managed to talk past the lump on her throat, feeling that she was disturbing him. He looked at her, dull annoyed eyes, that feeling in the pit of her stomach only intensified. 

“What do you want?” His voice was cold, without the warmth and kindness he reserved for the others in the inner circle. 

“I need to get some papers for Rhys in the city, can you fly me there? No one is home and I can’t go..” She hated it, without wings and the ability to winnow, she was completely dependent on others to help her to get out of the House of Wind.

“I’m busy now, wait for me and I'll take you later.” He said with a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose in clear annoyance for her interruption, and she just nodded, whispering a quick thank you and rushing away from him. 

She sat at the library, waiting for him, the clock on the wall changing as the time slowly passed by, ten minutes, half an hour, two hours, five hours, until she was almost sleeping against the arm of the comfortable chair, her book falling from her hands and startling her up with the noise. 

She looked at the clock once again, realising she was waiting for him almost all day, those papers were important and Rhys really needed them, so she got up, fixing her hair in a ponytail and heading for the 10,000 steps that would take her to the city. 

One hour later, she rested her hands against her knees, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose, she tried to catch her breath, her whole body felt rigid and no matter how much she trained, those steps were always cruel to anyone. After recomposing herself, she started her journey towards the small library hidden in Velaris.

Her heart sank when she walked past the street market, in one of the stands, leaning against the counter and clearly flirting with the pretty female on the other side, Azriel. She held her breath, feeling anger rising inside of her, he was already going into town, and he couldn’t even remember her? Was she that insignificant to him?

She didn’t know if he saw her or if his shadows alerted him, all she could see was his wide eyes as they locked with hers, he made a move to walk in her direction but she was quicker, pushing through the bodies and walking away from him.

It didn’t hurt seeing him with her, like it did so many times in the past whenever he flirted with someone in front of her, it hurt how inconsiderate he was. Her heart thrummed in her chest, breaking away the little hope that was left. Nothing, that’s all they would ever be, and for once, that thought didn’t break her, it encouraged her to move forwards. She pushed through the doors with a renewed confidence, she would be okay.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You don’t plan on climbing those, do you?” A voice startled her as she eyed the steps that would bring her home, she had quickly dropped the papers off, apologising profusely for the delay, to which Rhys just said it was fine. 

“How else am I supposed to go up there?” She turned to Cassian, by the looks of it, it looked like he had just arrived from the week long trip to the Illyrian war camps. 

“Maybe a very strong friend of yours can carry you.” Amusement glinted in those eyes. She smiled at him.

“You must be tired, Cass.” He indeed looked tired, bags underneath his eyes that usually weren’t there, his wings a little slumped and his hair dishevelled. 

“Never too tired to have a pretty female pressed up against me.” He winked at her and she felt her cheeks getting hotter under his gaze, he had always been like this, always flirting and making her flustered, she always took it as a part of his bright personality. 

“Yeah, I could definitely use a ride now.” The thought of climbing all those steps again somehow sounded worse than before.

“Hop on, gorgeous.” He sneaked his arms underneath her legs and supported her back, while she clung to his neck with both arms, feeling the wind on her face as he made the short flight up to the House. 

“Hey, are you hungry?” she asked as the two landed and headed inside. “I made some pie, I saved some pieces before Rhysand and Morrigan ate the whole thing.” She giggled and Cassian nodded.

“I would love to.” He gave a very loud kiss on her temple. “Your food is the best.” He moved towards his room while she went to the kitchen. Searching the fridge for the piece she had saved for Azriel, but he didn’t even bother to eat, he probably wouldn’t care now. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry for today.” His voice sounded behind her, she was bent inside the fridge, snatching the pie and turning to him, he eyed the pie in her hands, remembering her telling something about saving him some. “Oh, I’m not hungry, I ate in the city.”

“This isn’t for you.” She quickly replied in a monotone voice, anger still warming her insides. Azriel flinched at her tone. “And don’t worry, the papers were my problem, not yours, so you didn’t had to do anything.” She barely looked at him, fetching a spoon and heading towards the  exit. 

“Still, it wasn’t nice of me.” She turned to him one last time, glancing him up and down, before placing the plate on the table. 

“When were you ever nice to me anyway?” Her words were heavy with sadness and they weighed on his guts, making his stomach churn. He was going to say something, when a freshly bathed Cassian appeared, sitting in front of the plate. 

“This smells fucking divine.” He took a bite from Azriel’s piece. “As good as I imagined, Thank you sweetheart.” Azriel watched the interaction in silence, how she blushed with the pet name and the adoration in Cassian’s eyes, something didn’t sit right with him watching that, and he would learn too late why he didn’t like it. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel had to watch her over the months, how she didn’t rush to greet him when he came from missions, how now she never went to ask about his day or how he was doing, how whenever she cooked, it wouldn’t have a meal ready waiting for him, how she distanced herself from him, only talking to him when it was extremely necessary, and that made him sad.

Despite everything it felt nice knowing someone cared about him like she did, someone noticed him and paid attention to the details in his life no one else bothered to look at. How she always had the perfect gift for him on solstice, how she always had the right thing to say when he would let his thoughts consume him. 

He watched how she interacted with everyone but him, having wine with Mor, meetings with Rhys and always choosing Cassian at training, her easy smiles that once were almost just for him, were for anyone but him now. He felt her absence deeply, so used to having her like a second shadow, that now he felt alone.  

Today was the day she was leaving, she and Cassian were going to the Summer Court as Emissaries, working with the High Lord to strengthen their alliances. Whenever she was going to a mission, she would leave a gift for him, but today, as she handed a fresh batch of cookies for Rhys and a very expensive bottle of wine to Mor, and left without barely saying goodbye to him, he knew something was wrong between them and once she got back, he would do anything to fix it.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The sun glowed on her skin, the bluest of the oceans surrounded her at the private beach Tarquin invited them to, Cassian couldn’t focus on what the male was saying, failing his duty greatly, but how could he when she was right there? Sparkling brighter than the sun above their heads, with her wet hair glued to her forehead, a big grin as she laughed at something Cresseida said. 

Cassian had always been attracted to her, content to wait for her as long as it would take for her to stop pining for his dumb brother and set her beautiful eyes on him. And he felt that moment approaching, more than ever, and he wasn’t going to let it slide from in between his fingers. He would grasp it and fight whoever dared to try and take her from him.

“There’s something distracting you, Lord Cassian?” Tarquin followed his eyes to his companion exiting the ocean.

“The view is quite beautiful here.” He tried to brush it off to which the High Lord just scoffed.

“Oh yeah, the view is stunning.” Tarquin snorted and Cassian felt his cheeks hot as she set her eyes on him. 

“My lord, this beach is the closest we have of paradise.” She bowed her head a little, sitting down by Cassian’s side and sipping on the cold drink that waited for her. 

“I’m glad you like it, Lady Y/N.” Tarquin smirked her way and Cassian wanted to punch it away from his lips. They sat there for the whole afternoon, discussing court matters and some other business. The High Lord had invited them for dinner with him. 

Cassian escorted her back to her room, her cheeks rosy from the summer heat, they had just arrived from dinner with Tarquin, but she didn’t felt like sleeping yet, so she invited Cassian for a drink, and one become two, and when she noticed, she was on all fours as Cassian pounded into her from behind. 

Her breasts shaking with his rough pace, while she moaned for him to never stop, she hadn't allowed herself to feel this good in a very long time and it felt great to be desired, having someone praising her and worshipping her body the way she deserved to be worshipped. She crumbled apart under his touch, and she moaned his name loudly when he reached for her bundle of nerves, drawing an invisible pattern that had her coming so hard she almost blacked out.

And when he held her later that night, laying her head on his chest, almost asleep, she felt her heart complete for the first time in centuries and she really liked the feeling, it was like everything finally felt right in his arms, and she could only hope that he felt the same way. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“We should go out today.” He had said as the two sat for breakfast at her balcony. They haven’t spoken about last night's events yet, and she felt anxiety cursing through her veins.

“That sounds like a great idea.” She mumbled, and Cassian noticed how her shaking fingers grabbed the juice and poured it into her cup.

“About last night.” He grasped her hand, soothing her nervousness with his warmth. “I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I like you, and I want you to be mine. Azriel never deserved you.” He said and she looked at him, his eyes filled with sincerity. 

“What I felt last night and in these weeks here with you, maybe this is what love really looks like and I really want to try, I deserve better than being invisible.” Cassian smiled at her.

“I always saw you as you are, the stunning and wonderful female with the biggest heart that always took care of everyone but was never taken care of, I intend to change that.” He inclined over the table, capturing her lips in a kiss and she allowed her heart to sink in that feeling of being appreciated, she would be happy now. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“I’m so sorry, my Lord.” She said and Tarquin could see she was being honest. “We just got a little bit carried away, we understand if you never want to see us again, but please, don’t punish our court for our reckless behaviour.” 

“I won’t, but Cassian is banned from my Court, the damage he caused was too big.” She nodded.

“I understand, you can expect money for the repairs and for the inconvenience.” Tarquin nodded. “Thank you for having us here and for your kindness.” The male dismissed her and she marched outside the castle where Cassian waited for her escorted by five guards. 

“Too bad?” He asked sheepishly and she smiled at him.

“You’re banned and I promised money to rebuild.” He nodded.

“Could be worse.” He grabbed her, starting their journey back to the Night Court.

Last night, when they got out, things got a bit out of hand when Cassian took too many drinks, and a guy flirted with her. The two had a big fight that ended up with Cassian throwing the male on the building, damaging the structure and prompting the building to collapse. He was arrested for the night while Y/N tried to talk with Tarquin. 

Rhys already knew what happened and waited for them ready to scold Cassian for being so stupid and threatening their alliance, but Y/N was quick to defend him and guarantee that nothing was ruined and she could fix it over time. Cassian had pulled her to his lap while they talked, resting his chin on her shoulder, knowing that Rhys would never do anything to him out of consideration for her. 

“You’re lucky she’s your girlfriend now, Cass, Rhys won’t scold you anymore cuz he would hate to be on her bad side and miss her weekly cookies.” Mor laughed and they followed her. 

“Girlfriend?” Azriel asked, standing in the doorway, his eyes not believing what he was seeing, Cassian holding her.

“Problems with that brother?” Cassian sneered. “A female like her? Only a fool wouldn’t appreciate it.” Azriel felt his blood boiling in his veins.

He watched them angrily during the whole dinner, how she looked at Cassian, in the way she used to look at him, her orbs glowing and full of love. How he kept a hand on her thigh the whole time. He hated seeing the two together and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. So he waited. 

She always made a mug of tea before sleeping. So he waited for her in the kitchen, she looked surprised to see him there, her body barely covered by the nightgown and he almost threw up at the sight of purplish marks on the vale of her breasts. He hated the thought of her being touched like that by Cassian.

“We need to talk.” He said as she passed by him, starting to boil the water for her tea.

“I have nothing to say to you.” He scoffed and she turned towards him, her eyes cold and devoid of any emotion towards him.

“I do! How can you be with him?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Cassian makes me happy and he’s a good male, why wouldn’t I be with him?” 

“Because you love me and you’re supposed to be mine.” He blurted and hurt flashed across her eyes.

“So you always knew how I felt but only decided to acknowledge it when I'm with someone else. How convenient.” She was hurt and he could feel it.

“Leave him, I’m right here, I love you.” He reached for her hand but she stepped backwards, away from him. 

“You don’t love me, you never did. You only loved the attention, the fact that no matter what I would always be waiting for you like a stupid puppy. I was tired, Azriel.”

“Don’t say that, I know that deep down you still love me.” She laughed humorlessly.

“I LOVED you.” She corrected him. “I fell out of love with you a long time ago.”  His heart cracked in his chest, for the first time, seeing him distressed didn’t make her feel anything, there were no feelings left for him inside of her anymore. 

“I can make you happy, there’s no one else for me if it’s not you.” Tears welled in his eyes but she shook her head. 

“I really hope you find someone you truly love, for the first time my life isn’t about you anymore, let me be happy.” She begged and he could hear the exhaustion in her voice. Loving him and waiting for him was a tiring task, and she wasn’t willing to live like that anymore. 

“Please Y/N, don’t do this to me.” She took a deep breath.

“You never cared about what your behaviour would do to me, not even for a minute, why should I care?” She turned her back to him, finishing her tea. She walked past him. 

“I love you, please.” He was sobbing like a child now, she stared at him blankly. 

“It’ll pass.” She took a sip. “I learned to live with the pain of being in love with you, you’re smart, I know you’re going to learn as well.” She ignored the sound of the furniture breaking behind her as she walked towards Cassian’s room, where a life filled with love waited for her. 

[parisblood]

also helen, lucas & orion should be a trouple, I said what I said 😌

[hauntina]

retheme later ( like in 3 days )

[postmail]

bro this girl facetimes her parents every night, uninterrupted for an hour and an half, all but yelling into her phone, and we dont say anything, but when i try to call my dad for. six minutes i am continuously interrupted and spoken to. while i am on the phone! DUDE.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Let's Play Pretend - 9 | bodyguard!Bucky

Character: Bucky Barnes x singer! Female reader

Summary: You just wanted to hide here and find peace from the mess that wasn’t caused by you. But then, your hot neighbor bothered you. As if that wasn’t enough, the enemies you hated found you too.

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , Part 9 , END.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I published my book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing on Kindle.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Suddenly, the lights flickered—and died. Darkness swallowed the room in an instant.

A brief silence followed, thick and uneasy. Then came the sharp clicks of safety mechanisms disengaging as Mr. Vert’s bodyguards sprang into alert mode, spreading out and positioning themselves near the entrances and windows.

You heard a voice crackle through the security system speaker: “It’s just a short circuit. Should be back in a moment.” “Got it,” one of the guards responded curtly.

Mr. Vert stood calmly, but he caught the way you shifted nervously, your body tense and rigid. You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying not to shake—but the darkness made your skin crawl. It reminded you too much of a childhood you buried deep, nights alone, terrified, unable to scream.

Nobody knew that part of you.

But Mr. Vert noticed. His sharp eyes didn’t miss how your breath caught or how you trembled like a drenched puppy in winter. He stepped slightly closer. “We’ll be alright,” he said, voice low but firm.

That’s when it happened.

A grunt—a thud.

Something dropped outside, in the garden below the window.

You turned toward the sound instinctively, peering through the shadows. At first, it looked like nothing but trees and shrubs swaying in the breeze.

Then, your blood ran cold.

Between the branches, barely lit by the emergency backlight from the hallway, you saw it—a figure, standing still, face covered with a balaclava patterned like a skull.

And it was staring straight at you.

“ARGHHH!” you shrieked, stumbling backward in horror.

Chaos erupted.

Mr. Vert immediately stepped in front of you, shielding your body with his. His composure faltered slightly as he tried to make sense of the figure outside. “What the hell—”

More shadows moved outside.

More masked figures—silent, swift—slipped into view like phantoms. One by one, they emerged. Two, three… five… ten… fifteen.

“Uhm…” you whispered, voice shaking, “I guess we’re fucked.”

Vert squinted toward the window. “They’re smaller than my guards. Piece of cake—my men can handle this.” But doubt was beginning to creep into his voice.

He turned to his security team. “What the fuck are you doing?! I’m not paying you to stand there— FIGHT THEM!”

The guards surged into action, but the battle quickly turned grim. The intruders wore night-vision goggles, cutting through the darkness with ease. They moved like trained shadows—silent, coordinated, lethal. The guards fought back, but it was clear they were outmatched and overwhelmed.

Vert’s bravado faded as he watched his elite team struggle. “Who sent you?!” he barked toward the intruders, trying to make sense of the ambush. He had enemies, sure—but this was something else. Something more focused.

Then he noticed it.

One of the masked figures seemed to hesitate the moment his eyes flicked to you.

Mr. Vert’s expression hardened. He reached out and grabbed your arm—not gently.

“Shit,” he muttered, realization dawning in his eyes. “They’re not here for me.”

“Boss…” your voice was small, scared, and uncertain. The grip on your arm hurt, but that wasn’t what scared you the most. It was the way those masked eyes locked onto you like you were the target. The prize.

And the nightmare was just beginning.

Vert didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed your wrist firmly, pulling you behind him as the sounds of chaos exploded in the background. The guards clashed with the intruders—shouts, grunts, and the thud of bodies echoed off the walls.

“Come on!” Vert barked, dragging you through the hallway.

You stumbled slightly as he led you down the corridor to his study. He reached the bookshelf, scanned quickly, and yanked a specific hardcover off the shelf. With a soft click, a hidden mechanism whirred to life. The shelf slid aside, revealing a narrow metallic lift tucked behind the wall.

“This goes straight to my garage,” Vert said in a rush. “Had it built in case I ever needed to disappear from my own parties.”

He shoved the key fob into his pocket and guided you inside the hidden lift. The doors closed with a hiss, and a soft hum vibrated beneath your feet as the lift descended.

Neither of you spoke. You clutched your chest, feeling your heart hammering so hard you thought it might burst. Vert tapped his foot anxiously, gripping the car remote like it was a lifeline.

A chime announced your arrival at the garage. As the doors slid open, the sleek silver sports car parked directly ahead blinked twice in response to the remote. The soft glow of headlights cut through the dim underground space.

Both of you rushed to the vehicle. He opened the passenger door for you before sliding into the driver’s seat.

The engine roared to life.

Tires squealed as he accelerated out of the hidden exit ramp and onto the quiet city road. You both looked back at the building—dark, distant, and now crawling with shadows. Your chest still rose and fell rapidly, breath shallow, adrenaline flooding your bloodstream.

You didn’t speak. Neither did he.

Only the sound of the tires on asphalt and the low hum of the engine filled the silence.

Until Vert finally murmured to himself, barely above a whisper, “Was it... the lunatic group?”

You turned to him slowly, still shaking. “Who?”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel. “It started a year ago. We received a threatening message. It looked like a ransom letter… letters cut from magazines and newspapers.”

Your brows furrowed. Fear crept into your voice. “What do you mean we?”

He took a breath. “It was me… your manager, and your ex-fiancé.”

Your blood ran cold.

“What?” Your voice cracked.

“Why didn’t you tell me? What did the letter say?”

Vert glanced at you, guilt flickering in his eyes before focusing back on the road. “Because it was about you.”

Your mind reeled, thoughts spiraling.

Why had no one told you? Why had they kept something this serious hidden?

Vert continued, “The letter said things like ‘You deserve better,’ and ‘None of us understands you.’ At first, we thought it was just another obsessed fan. Happens all the time. But this one… this one felt different. It left us all with this... sick, unsettled feeling.”

You swallowed hard. “Do you think this lunatic is the reason why Dolly and Jack died?”

There was a long silence.

Then Vert answered, voice low, almost reluctant. “It could be.”

Before you could respond, the car jolted sharply to the left, swerving violently toward another vehicle in the next lane.

“KYAA!” You screamed, gripping the door handle with both hands.

“What the hell?!” Vert wrestled the steering wheel, trying to steady the car.

“Boss?!”

He stared at the controls, horror dawning in his face. “The car… it's moving by itself!”

“What?”

“I’m not touching anything!” he shouted.

The vehicle suddenly accelerated, the speedometer climbing rapidly.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Did someone hack the car?!”

“I… I guess!” Vert’s voice pitched in panic. “But I’ve only ever seen this crap in movies!”

The car sped faster, weaving between lanes. You could barely process what was happening—your heart was in your throat, your pulse racing.

Then your phone lit up.

A call.

From the one person you needed most.

Bucky.

You grabbed the phone and answered with shaking hands.

“BUCKY!” you screamed.

His voice came through, calm but urgent. “Where are you?”

“The car—It’s not stopping! Vert says it’s been hacked or something

“What’s going on? I see your location moving—like you’re in a car.” Bucky’s voice crackled through your phone, calm but laced with urgency. Unbeknownst to you, he had placed a tracker on your phone for safety—just in case. He had been on his way to Vert’s condo when he saw your GPS signal suddenly shoot off down the highway.

Now, he was chasing you.

“I am in a car, Bucky! But it’s not what you think—we got kidnapped by the damn car! It’s driving itself! Just trust me!” you shouted, barely able to steady your voice over the roar of the engine and the rush of panic pounding in your chest.

Bucky floored the gas, weaving through traffic. The city lights blurred past him. His eyes flicked between his phone and the road, heart thundering as he tried to keep up. “Can you open the door?”

You looked at the door handle and yanked it hard. Nothing. “No! I already tried kicking the window too—it’s hard as rock!” you cried out, frustration and fear seeping into your voice.

Vert cursed beside you, gripping the dashboard. “Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked for the car to be customized with reinforced windows.”

Bucky overheard that through your speaker. “Alright, listen—just stay still. The car’s moving on its own, and we don’t know if it’s heading into a trap, the river, or a wall. All we want is for it to stop.”

“Not helping, Bucky!” you snapped, tears brimming in your eyes.

“I’ll do my best to follow you,” he said, pushing his car past the speed limit. His jaw was tight, knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. If he could fly, he’d tear the roof off your car and pull you out himself. But right now, your runaway vehicle was far ahead—getting faster.

Still, maybe this wasn’t just a kidnapping.

Maybe the car was taking you to the source. To the one responsible.

That thought chilled him even more.

You clutched your phone, voice barely above a whisper now. “Bucky… promise you’ll find me?”

“I will.” His voice was firm, unwavering.

“Me too, right?” Vert added from the driver’s seat, still gripping the steering wheel even though it didn’t do a thing.

“Yup,” Bucky replied, with far less conviction.

Your car sped on, weaving past cities and streetlights until eventually, you left civilization behind. Forest replaced buildings. The world grew darker, quieter—until finally, the car slowed.

Then stopped.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

You both stared out the windows. A dimly lit cabin stood ahead, surrounded by towering pine trees. The headlights revealed chipped paint, overgrown weeds, and broken fence posts—a house straight out of a horror movie.

Lurking in the shadows outside were figures—at least five of them—each wearing the same balaclava with a skull pattern. Silent. Motionless. Watching.

You froze, gripped by sheer dread.

Vert whispered, “I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather stay in the car.”

“Same,” you muttered, feeling your hands shake.

The doors clicked.

Opened by themselves.

The cold night air rushed in like an uninvited guest.

“Now what?” you whispered, heart pounding.

Before either of you could react, two masked figures yanked open Vert’s door and dragged him out by force. He kicked and shouted, but they overpowered him easily.

You screamed and tried to fight back when hands reached for you—but strangely, they didn’t pull you. They just stood there, watching, waiting for you to step out on your own.

Your breath trembled. Why weren’t they dragging you out too?

The tension snapped as one of them reached inside again—more forcefully this time.

Then the two of you were pushed toward the cabin’s porch. The wooden planks creaked underfoot. One figure opened the door.

You stepped into the dim interior.

Warm light flickered from a fire burning in the hearth. Shadows danced across the log walls.

Then you saw her.

A figure standing alone by the fireplace.

Her posture relaxed, but there was something off. Calculated. Like a predator toying with its prey.

She turned slowly to face you.

And in that moment, your breath caught.

Because you knew that face.

"Selena?" you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. Disbelief gripped your chest like a vice.

Selena smiled sweetly, as if nothing was wrong, as if you weren’t just kidnapped by a car and brought to a cult-like hideout in the woods. Her eyes sparkled with an eerie kind of joy—delicate, deranged.

"You must be thirsty from the long ride," she said softly, almost motherly. She turned to one of the skull-masked figures beside her and gestured. "Give her some water."

In less than a second, a glass of water appeared on the small wooden table in front of you—crystal clear, with a tiny pink umbrella floating on top. Your stomach turned. You couldn’t even lift your hand to touch it.

Seeing your hesitation, Selena’s expression hardened just slightly. "Put it down," she instructed flatly. The masked figure obeyed, retreating without a word.

She sat across from you, hands folded on her lap, smiling gently again. "I know you're scared. I know this is all a shock," she said softly. "But I did this for you. You deserve the best."

You stared at her, heart pounding. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Before she could answer, Vert scoffed loudly from the corner. His arms were crossed, his posture tense. "This is the best? You kidnapped us in a damn self-driving death trap."

Selena didn’t even blink. She turned her head toward him slowly, then back to you. "They don't understand. But I do. All of this... this house, the followers, the silence, the protection... it's for you." Her eyes welled with twisted emotion. "So you can stay. Forever."

Your heart dropped.

"What... followers?" you whispered.

She looked at the masked figures standing like statues along the wall. "Them. All of them. Your fans. Our fans." Her voice grew breathy, almost romantic. "I built this for us. A safe place where no one can hurt you again. Where no one can take you away from me."

Your blood ran cold.

This wasn’t a hideout.

This was a cult.

A cult of your own fans.

"You’re fucking insane!" you suddenly screamed, trembling with fury and horror. "You're the reason Dolly and Jack are dead!"

Selena leaned in, gently wiping the tear that had escaped down your cheek. Her thumb lingered far too long. "Shhh... it’ll be alright. You’ll see."

Suddenly, a loud commotion erupted outside.

"There’s an attack!" someone shouted.

Selena immediately stood up, eyes wide. "Is it him?"

Your heart leapt into your throat.

"Bucky..." you whispered, hope cracking through your fear like sunlight through storm clouds.

Selena laughed, short and sharp. "He’s totally outnumbered. He wouldn’t dare hurt civilians."

"Civilians?" Vert barked, incredulous. "You kidnapped us!"

You rose to your feet, stepping forward. "You don’t know him."

Selena turned to you slowly, her voice trembling. "What?"

You looked her dead in the eyes, your voice like steel. "Just like you don’t know me at all."

The words struck like a dagger. Selena flinched, blinking rapidly. Something inside her shifted—her smile cracked.

She felt it.

You were no longer hers.

She couldn’t reach you anymore.

Outside, chaos exploded. Screams pierced the air.

"Aargh!" "Someone’s shooting!" "My leg!" "RUN!"

Selena spun around, panic setting in as the masked figures—the loyal fans she thought would protect you, worship you—began to scatter. Some ran into the woods, others threw off their masks in fear, no longer committed to the cause.

She hadn't expected this.

She hadn't expected him.

She hadn’t expected you to hate her.

And now, her world was collapsing around her.

Suddenly, everything went still.

The screaming stopped. The gunfire ceased. Only the distant crackle of firewood and the faint rustling of wind outside remained.

Then the front door creaked open.

Bucky stepped inside, his presence dominating the room. The low hum of tension followed him like a shadow. He held a sniper rifle casually in his hands, as if it weighed nothing, his finger resting near the trigger.

His sharp eyes scanned the room until they locked onto Selena.

A small, cold smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Hello, Stanley,” he said darkly.

The name struck like lightning.

Selena’s face twitched. Her pupils dilated with sudden rage. "Shut up!" she screamed, voice cracking, feral. She lunged forward, grabbing a knife from the table, the blade flashing under the dim cabin light.

But she didn’t make it far.

Bucky moved in a blur. With a single strike of his arm, he sent her flying across the room. Her body slammed against the log wall with a sickening thud.

“Urgh!” she groaned, crumpling to the floor.

Within seconds, the police stormed in through the broken windows and open door, weapons raised. The masked followers were tackled, cuffed, and dragged out into the night one by one. Screams returned—only now, they belonged to the cult.

You and Vert were quickly pulled outside by officers and examined by paramedics. Emergency lights painted the woods in flashing red and blue, sirens wailing in the distance.

Wrapped in a foil blanket, you sat on the back of an ambulance, trembling.

Bucky approached silently, his rifle slung over his back now, eyes locked on you.

You looked up at him, voice weak. “You kept your promise.”

He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he crouched down and gently tightened the blanket around your shoulders. His touch was careful, like he was afraid you’d break. You were still shaking.

Then, his eyes flicked toward a squad car, where Steve was slamming the door shut on a handcuffed figure.

His voice dropped low. “You want me to kill him?”

You blinked, confused. “Him?”

Bucky nodded toward the squad car. “Selena’s real name is Stanley.”

You and Vert turned at the same time.

“What?” you both gasped.

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “He pretended to be a woman so he could get close to you. Your company only allows female managers and assistants to work with female talents—he exploited that.”

Vert exhaled sharply, nodding. “That’s the policy. It’s for safety, for comfort. No male staff allowed around our female artists unless authorized.”

You stared blankly. The information hit you like a brick wall.

Selena—Stanley—was a man? And he’d been so close to you all this time? Dressing you backstage, holding your hand during panic attacks, whispering encouragement…

Your skin crawled.

Your breath hitched.

You couldn’t get enough air.

The paramedic turned urgently toward his partner. “She’s having a panic attack!”

Everything became noise. Too loud. Too bright. Too fast.

“We need to get her to the hospital now.”

They tried to lift you from the bumper of the ambulance, but something stopped them.

You were clutching tightly to Bucky’s jacket, knuckles white.

Tears streamed down your face as you gasped, “Stay with me.”

He looked down at you, voice steady, calm, grounding.

“After what you’ve been through…” he said, gripping your hand gently, “…I won’t leave you.”

And he meant it.

As chaos swirled around you—sirens, shouting, arrests—Bucky stayed by your side.

And this time, you knew you were safe. The nightmare is over.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

The hospital room was quiet except for the soft beeping of machines and the occasional murmur from the staff. Bucky stood just outside, leaning against the wall, his eyes fixed on the door to your room. Even though the doctor was with you, he couldn’t take his gaze off you for a second. The tension in his posture, the way his jaw tightened every time the door shifted, showed how much he was guarding you—even from a distance.

Vert stood beside him, his feet shuffling in the sterile hallway, his voice breaking the silence. “You only see her, and even leaving me behind.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered briefly to Vert, his voice flat and without empathy. “You’re still able to walk and breathe, so you’re fine.”

Vert snorted softly, leaning against the wall with a deep sigh. “Son, I want to enjoy my old life. I don’t want to die because of a fanatic cult.”

Bucky flinched at the word son. It struck him unexpectedly, as if something had just rattled loose inside him. He swallowed the discomfort, his gaze hardening, still focused on the door.

Vert, undeterred, added with sincerity, “But I owe my life to you. If you hadn’t saved us, I’d probably be in the sea right now.” He trembled as he recalled what had happened today, the near-death experiences, the fear. “Is there anything you want? I’ll give you anything.”

Bucky remained silent for a long moment, his eyes still on you, his thoughts far from this conversation. Finally, he spoke, his voice low, steady. “There’s something I want. And you have to keep your promise.”

Vert looked at him, his expression softening, still unsure. “Anything.”

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver. “Make her retire from music.”

Vert’s eyes widened, and he took a step back, processing the request. There was a long, heavy silence before he spoke, his voice quiet but resolute. “I understand.” He paused, glancing at the door where you were. “But I’ll ask her first. Music is her life. If she wants to quit, I’ll accept it. But it has to be her decision.”

Bucky nodded once, as though that was the only answer he needed.

But Vert seemed hesitant now, his gaze lingering on Bucky. Bucky, ever observant, noticed the hesitation in his stance—the way Vert fidgeted with his hands, the way his eyes flickered nervously to the side.

Bucky narrowed his eyes and asked, “What?”

Vert looked conflicted, as if the words he was about to say carried weight, more than he had anticipated. “I know I’m asking too much,” he started, his voice trailing off. “But I’ll pay for it.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Huh?” His confusion was clear.

Vert took a deep breath, his face wrinkled with unease. He didn’t want to ask, but something seemed to push him forward. “I just need a strand of your hair.”

Note : The next update will be the last chapter 😊

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My book Arrogant Ex-Husband and Dad, I Can't Let You Go by Alina C. Bing is FREE on Kindle for a few days. Check it out!

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[choccy-milky]

Hey just wanted to say how much I adore the Raven and The Snake! It kept me sane during some hard times last year screaming at Seb distracted me from my real problems LOL! In fact I love it so much I would love to print the fic and turn it into a book for my own personal enjoyment of course, would it be okay with you if I did that and posted the final product on Twitter? I'd tag you of course! Don't know if it's a dumb question but I wanted to check. Anyways love your work you are SUPER talented!

YES YES YES??? OMG PLSSS I WOULD DIE!!!!!!!

IM HONOURED YOU LIKED IT ENOUGH TO WANT TO BIND IT!!! AND PLS, TAG ME EVERYWHERE WHEN/IF YOU DO IT😭😭 ive considered commissioning someone to bind it myself just to have as a memento bc im the author, but omg the fact that someone else would wanna do it too......im glad sebs dumbassery (and lets be real, clora's too. if not MOSTLY cloras) could distract you from your irl problems by yelling at those two idiots🥰🥰 THANK YOU AGAIN IM HONOURED ARGHHH🧎‍♀️💖💖

LMFAOOO THE WAY I THOUGHT THIS WAS ANON HATE AT FIRST LMAOOO i mean i guess it kinda could still be considered it??? but i love your love for clora BAHAH bc you are so right, let seb drown, this aint about him✋😔...to satiate you heres a wip of her ive had for a while, and maybe ill finally finish it soon JUST FOR YOU🫵🫵💖

[huxhsz]

🍎 ⊹ ࣪ ˖ sa susunod na buhay.

— synopsis: in a country on the brink of revolution, two childhood friends find themselves on opposite sides of a war. one, a katipunero, fighting for freedom. the other, a guardia civil, sworn to uphold the crown.

— note/s: i don't even want to THINK abt exams. this is my copium... spanish officer caleb... "kuya caleb" this "basketbolista caleb" that what if spanish officer caleb haha. SOMEONE SAVE ME ARGHHH. also js to preface i suck at filipino and i. dont know any spanish so uh... yeah... (this work is purely fictional and does not intend to offend or misrepresent anyone. it is inspired by historical events but takes creative liberties for storytelling purposes. any depictions of colonial-era racism, discrimination, and violence are meant to reflect the realities of the time and not to promote or glorify them.)

— content warning/s:

violence & execution – gunfire, war-related violence, and character death

historical racism & discrimination – colonial-era classism and racial prejudice

explicit language – swearing in both tagalog & spanish (+ english if you include translations)

— translations:

amo -> master/boss/employer

hacendero -> landowner/plantation owner/farm owner

hacienda -> large estate/plantation

cross-posted on ao3! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

the first time you met caleb, you were six, barefoot in the fields behind the great house. he was in stiff linen clothes, expensive leather shoes sinking into the mud.

you hated him immediately.

"ay, dios mío, qué asco," (oh, my god, how disgusting.) he muttered, shaking wet soil from his shoe.

you crossed your arms. "wala ‘yan sa akin kung marumi ka." (i don’t care if you get dirty.)

his head snapped up, violet eyes burning in the late afternoon sun. he hadn’t expected you to speak. much less talk back. the amo—his father, the hacendero—had told you to bring his son around the hacienda. but you didn’t like the way he looked at the world, chin up, like everything belonged to him.

you, a farmer’s child, barefoot and tanned from the sun. him, born into wealth, the son of a spanish officer. you were never meant to be equals.

but that didn’t stop him from showing up every afternoon. didn’t stop him from stealing mangoes with you, whispering tagalog under his breath like it was something to be ashamed of. it didn’t stop you from sharing dreams under the balete tree, laughing as you raced through the fields, finding home in the most unexpected place.

it didn’t stop him from calling you his best friend.

it didn’t stop you from pretending you weren’t.

but childhood was not forever.

at twelve, he was sent to spain. when he returned at nineteen, his skin was paler, his tagalog stiffer, and his uniform—guardia civil blue.

at twenty, you burned your first hacienda .

at twenty-one, you stood on opposite sides of the war.

the first time you saw him again, it was not as friends but as enemies.

you were captured. the revolution was gaining strength, but your luck had run dry that night. the ambush failed. the spanish forces were ready. half your comrades were dead.

and now, here you were, on your knees in a bloodstained courtyard, hands tied behind your back, the barrel of a rifle pressed to your skull.

then— his voice.

"huminto." (stop)

the soldier hesitated.

you didn’t. your head snapped up, and there he was.

caleb.

older, taller. the boy you once knew now a man in a crisp blue uniform, sword at his hip, medals gleaming under lantern light.

"dalhin siya sa selda." (take them to the cell.) his voice was steady.

it wasn’t mercy.

it was something crueler.

the cell was damp. the air thick with the stench of sweat, blood, and death. you sat in the dark, wrists raw from the rope.

footsteps.

the door creaked open. a figure stepped inside.

caleb.

your breath hitched. the lantern in his hand flickered, casting sharp shadows across his face.

"tangina mo," (fuck you) you spat.

"pareho pa rin," (still the same) he murmured. his tagalog had that old hesitation, that foreign lilt. it made you want to hit him.

you surged forward, but the chains yanked you back. he didn’t flinch.

"bakit?" (why?)  your voice was raw. "bakit ka bumalik?" (why did you come back?)

he looked at you for a long moment. then, softly—

"bakit ka lumaban?" (why did you fight?)

you laughed, bitter. "alam mo na ang sagot." (you already know the answer.)

his jaw tightened. "bukas ka papatayin." (you’ll be executed tomorrow.)

you knew that. you’d known that since the moment they caught you. "at ano ngayon?" (and so what?)

his grip on the lantern tightened. "may paraan pa para makaalis ka." (there’s still a way for you to escape.)

you barked out a laugh. "gusto mong ipagkanulo ko sila?" (you want me to betray them?)

something in his expression flickered. "ayaw kitang mamatay." (i don’t want you to die.)

"putangina, caleb." (fuck you, caleb.) your voice broke. "ikaw ang pumapatay sa amin." (you’re the one who’s killing us.)

he exhaled sharply, like you had punched him. "sa tingin mo ito ang gusto ko?" (do you think this is what i want?)

"sa tingin ko may pagpipilian ka." (i think you have a choice.)

silence.

he knelt before you, hands hovering—like he wanted to touch you, but couldn’t. "sinubukan ko, mi alma." (i tried, my soul.) his voice was barely a whisper. "sinubukan kong baguhin ito." (i tried to change this.)

"kung ganoon, bakit may mga bangkay pa rin sa lansangan?" (then why are there still corpses in the streets?)

he had no answer.

you leaned forward, until your foreheads almost touched. "sabihin mo sa akin, guardia civil." (tell me, guardia civil.) your voice was quiet now, low and bitter. "pag pinaputok nila ang baril bukas, ikaw ba ang huling makakakita sa akin?" (when they fire the guns tomorrow, will you be the last one to see me?)

his breath hitched.

he didn’t answer.

you didn’t expect him to.

the morning was golden. too beautiful for a day meant for dying.

the field was quiet, save for the distant cries of vivas and mabuhays —a reminder that the revolution would not die with you.

you stood, hands tied, staring down the firing squad.

and then— him.

caleb. standing at the front, his uniform crisp, his expression carved from stone.

he would not look at you.

your chest ached.

someone began reading the charges.

"…sa salang pagtataksil laban sa espanya, sa pangunguna ng paghihimagsik, sa pag-aalsa laban sa korona…" (...for the crime of treason against spain, for leading the rebellion, for rising against the crown…)

you weren’t listening.

instead, you turned to caleb.

and in your mother tongue, you spoke—softly, just for him.

"sa susunod na buhay..." (in the next life…)

his breath caught.

his hands clenched at his sides.

but he did not answer.

he could not.

the command rang through the air.

"fuego." (fire.)

gunfire.

pain.

falling.

the sky above, endless and blue.

blood pooling in the earth, soaking into the roots of the land you fought for.

your lips parted, breath shallow.

"…huwag mo na akong hanapin." (don’t look for me anymore.)

then stillness.

then silence.

and caleb—standing over your lifeless body, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles were white, his breath shuddering, his uniform pristine except for the mud on his boots.

he did not kneel.

he did not weep.

he only whispered, hoarse and broken,

"sa susunod na buhay." (in the next life.)

and turned away.

[vhbutter]

Tyrelliot but it’s that whole colour people trend thingamajig, kinda cool I suppose. I don’t really like how Elliot looks in this but shhhhh…

Arghhh I need to rant about them, they make me so sad. Watch the cut content from s4 with them, it’s so sweet I’m sad they got rid of it. Seriously they have one of the most messy and complex dynamics ever and I love them and I hate them so much.

Here’s a cat picture, love you bro

[emmawithtwoms]

The Black Lake

@wolfstarmicrofic day 24 -420 words

It was a freezing early November night, and while all of Hogwarts was sound asleep, four boys could be found on the shore of the Black lake, two of those not dressed appropriately for the weather, and the other two grinning from ear to ear while holding a magical camera. 

“This is mental.” 

“None of our business, Moony” 

“You’re cruel James.” 

“You could have ran faster.”

“It’s not my fault Filch’s damned cat is obsessed with me, Wormtail!” 

“He must smell the wet dog smell that you diffuse, love.”

“Look who’s talking, fleabag.” 

“Oh come on Moony, let’s just take this dip in the lake and go to sleep, I’m freezing out here!”

“Strange to say, But Padfoot is right, Moony, you lost the bet, you dive in the lake, that’s the rule.”

“I hate you all.”

“You love us, really.” 

“Ok Moons, that’s it. On the count of three we run in the water.”

Sirius grabbed his hand, getting ready to run in the lake and get this story to an end, once and for all. 

“Ready?”

“No.”

“One, Two… THREE!” 

Sirius started running towards the shore, holding Remus by hand, but at the last second the werewolf took his hand back, leaving poor Padfoot to dive in the freezing lake all by himself.

“Remus! You foul traitor!!!! Get in the water this instant!”

“Yeah Moony!! What the fuck was that? You gotta pay!””

“Come on! It’s fucking freezing! Please guys, anything else I swea-”

“Levicorpus!”

In an instant Remus was lifted magically from the ground and levitated above the water.

“Nononono please guys come on!”

“Too late Moony”

“Prongs don’t you-ARGHHH”

Remus was dropped unceremoniously in the water, where he reemerged sputtering a moment later.

“ASSHOLES!”

Sirius swam towards him.

“You were about to leave me here all alone, dipshit!”

And he splashed some freezing water on Remus.

“Oh come on, love, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“Smile for the camera, lads!”

Prongs screamed from the shore, where he and Wormtail were having the time of their lives. Sirius threw a hand around Remus’ shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek just as the flash from the camera went off. 

Later that night, glued to the wall with some spell-o Tape, you could find a peculiar picture of two boys in the lake, one flipping the camera off and one kissing the other on the cheek, with the caption: “Moony and Padfoot being disgustingly in love even when they lose a bet, November 1977”.

[themeantic]

ARGHHH so…

There are thousands of pop culture articles about “the real life serial killer that inspired Dexter” and it’s just so incorrect!

so these articles often site a brazilian serial killer that focused on killing other killers and following a similar code to Dexter

But (and huge But) Dexter is based off the novel series by author Jeff Lindsay to which he has never referenced this aforementioned brazilian serial killer.

When asked about the true origins of the Dexter character Jeff Lindsay has sited being at an insufferable white collar business event to which he thought to himself “i wanna kill everyone here” which lead him down a psychological psychopath rabbit hole and how seemingly normal people can turn out to be killers. Yeah he did a bunch of researched and interviewed a bunch of criminal psychologists and sat down with killers too but it still remains there is no actual credible link between the brazilian guy and the television Dexter.

Jeff Lindsay in multiple interviews says that Dexter doesn’t mean anything it’s just a bunch of books who cares. but yeah i just hate seeing screen rant or any of those push out an article at all costs websites that don’t do any actual research other than an initial google

[malikai-but-lesbian]

Like honestly- how did I even end up hyperfixating on the concept of a show with the main focus on two gay dudes. I dont even like that shit, I'm for the girls, so me getting pissed anytime I read fanfiction and somebody does as much as HINT at sex between the two fellas is absolutely my fault like just dont read it? Tf? But im hyperfixated nevertheless arghhh i hate it- of course most people in the vat7k fandom are into yaoi. Of course said people may or may not want to read some spicy shit too. And of course they want power dynamics. Like how did i even get here honestly? At first i thought i hated Varigo mainly because it's always either borderline or full on toxic but like- toxic yuri?? Im into that make it toxic and unhealthy as hell but yaoi? Ew wdym those are men not butch lesbians 💔

My key point is that i keep getting worked up about the fact that i cant just chsnge Varigo into yuri

God i think im addicted

[lrgoescrazy]

erm... puma guy (I DONT HAVE A NAME FOR HIMMM I've literally created so much lore but NO NAME)

i literally made him as a joke cuz he's like a weird flipped version of jayden... but then i ended up really liking him so now he's part of the main cast

we DONT TALK about the background... i-it's a character ref ok it doesn't NEED a background

i literally HATE how i am so good at pointing out other ppls mistakes and correcting other ppls art... but there can be the most obvious mistake in my drawing and I won't even notice at all it's so painful

so glad i didnt post my old (by old I mean like few months, edit: lol it was exactly three months and one week) ref of him here man it's so bad why does my old art always look so distorted like WHAT WAS I THINKING...

the longest part of drawing him is always the space pattern man but like it's my own stubbornness I could literally just copy and paste but I choose not to

the shading is also much better than the old one I'm developing this guy pretty fast I have a good enough image of him in my brain to not need a reference when drawing him (except still no name arghhh I put so much thought into names... well sometimes, I literally took two characters names from songs)

it may or may not be 4 am I am NORMAL

i've made so many small edits to this drawing man I don't even think anyone else can tell what I changed but its driving me crazy