#because he can't let go of the things he experienced back before he was killed

[soulsxng]

@arcxnumvitae and @fatestouch replied to your post:

WHAT?!

👀👀👀

"It is not an issue of having grown tired of my position, or anything of the sort...though it would likely be a lie if I were to say that I were not feeling somewhat drained."

There's a small hum, and Sivel finally lifts his gaze from the mage pools to regard Ranadi and Alsina, who had eventually begun with a steady (albeit nervous) stream of questions. Why he had brought this up. When he had begun to think about it seriously. Would it be temporary, or permanent? Who would replace him, and what he would be doing, instead?

...What had happened to make him want to abdicate in the first place?

"I love Vasyri...I do. And I love my people just as deeply. But over these past few years, I have come to wonder if, perhaps, I have done all that I am able to for them. Vasyri deserves someone with a fresh outlook on things. Someone who does not look at potential alliances and associations that could benefit us, or end up overly focused on how things might go wrong. Someone that does not feel compelled toward the need to do things on our own, even if we do have allies, so as not to potentially open ourselves up to further threats."

"I think about my home, and I think of what I need to do so as to not fail them again. How I do not think I could stand to see any of my people suffer as they did in the past. And no matter whether I realize that or not, I am never able to shake myself from being almost as overprotective of them as I am of all of you. Of my family..."

"That makes any growth or evolution difficult, if not outright impossible. I know that, and yet...I find that, more and more, I am unable to justify the risks necessary to see much worthwhile change take place. So...while I do not necessarily believe myself to be a poor leader, I feel as though things have grown to be stagnant."

"And all of that is without mentioning the ire that so many outside of Vasyri view me with. I worry that, as long as I am Luminary, the stigma attached to myself and my deeds will continue to weigh Vasyri as a whole down, as well."

He talks through everything in a soft, even tone. It's obvious to both Ranadi and Alsina that this is something he had put a good deal of thought into, since a year or two ago, when he had commented half-jokingly about it to the pair of them.

"Besides...I miss it. How things used to be, when we were younger. Being able to go wherever we fancied at a moment's notice. Exploring and experiencing things with our claim-- something that I have never had the opportunity to do with Ania or Cyrus even once. It feels like, by becoming Luminary, I somehow came to believe that I had to give up so much of myself that, even in my earlier years of ruling, I would never have imagined doing. As if I gave up a part of my culture, pieces of who I am, moments with my loved ones...I look at the person I have become on occasion, and oftentimes, I do not like what I see. What I turned myself into, simply because I thought it was for the best of everyone involved. Because I thought that people would be more impressed, or more intimidated."

"...I do not intend to leave Vasyri forever, nor is this something I intend to rush. I want to be sure that whoever I pass this title onto, they are going to be the right fit. I still want to be around here and there to offer my support and assistance, and to teach people where I can-- both the new Luminary, and whoever else may want to learn from me. And when I'm not doing that, I think I would like to start by going along with Ania, Cyrus, and Sivan on one of their expeditions. After that, maybe I will take them on a trip to some of the spots that mother and father used to bring us when we were younger, with Naya and Nesimah...perhaps Quella. Both of you as well, if it is something you would be open to? It would hardly be the same, otherwise."

"Going back to my abdication, however. As I said, it is not something I intend to rush. I...am coming closer and closer to the conclusion that it is simply my time to take a step back, is all."

[pepperyduck]

ridin' nanamin for the first time...

a/n: nsfw, riding, methinks this fits older boyfriend nanami so let’s say implied age gap😊 18+ mdni!

"ken, i wanna try to ride you."

your immodest request had taken your boyfriend by surprise, such forward ways of speaking often foreign to you. you had "tried" to ride him before, though it was more of a little grinding while you were on top. this time was going to be different, though, you were going to ride him.

"oh?" he'd all but coo, lacing his words with a slight mockery, "is that so?" kento's cunning, rare smile towards you afterwards almost makes you give in; but no, you're determined.

not without a little teasing, you set yourself up atop the older man, legs hiked up on either side of his waist with your feet planted firmly into the bed. reaching down, you guide the thick head of nanami's cock to your already sopping entrance, easing your hips down to take all of him.

you swat at kento, signaling you need some type of leverage, and his big, experienced hands come to interlock fingers with yours. it's sweet, really, how his arms hold you up so effortlessly while you struggle to remain composed on top of him. his muscles become more exposed and veinier as he continues to balance your weight against him.

conjuring up whatever strength you have, you lift yourself up with your legs and plop! back down, eyes completely focused on the reaction you're to receive from kento. yet he only finds it amusing how attentive you are to his pleasure, and he gives you to go-ahead to try it again.

this time, you try a series of multiple little bounces, each little 'plop' becoming increasingly heavier with each drop of your pelvis. but the one thing that drives you to not stop, to keep going without the need for hesitation, is the expression that comes over your boyfriend's face.

it's...intense. kento's eyebrows furrow together, his eyes close lightly, and every previous appearance of a smile is wiped from his lips as they form into a small 'o' shape. he looks as if he's focused, even with his eyes shut, on how your body tries so hard to pleasure him.

and the thing that really kills him is that you keep going. because he was so used to you being fucked dumb so easily, giving yourself up to him within the first few seconds of his intoxicating touch.

but kento can understand the thrill of the power he's giving you.

you muster up all the adrenaline left in your cells, legs burning with such fever you hate yourself for taking on this feat, pushing into your boyfriend's arms to keep yourself upright. strings of slick connect from the base of nanami’s cock to your cunt, a downright obscene sloshing and squelching coming from where the both of you interlock.

though your body aches for you to stop, you can't, not now. the constant unwinding of kento's brick wall attitude is too inebriating for you to quit.

[abyssal-author-and-artist]

Alright so I'm actually drafting this the day before I post it because I hit the post limit reblogging cool stuff but fuck it I'm going to make the AU of "siffrin? more like sif out" AU properly

So brief overview of the AU - in this AU, everyone in the party remembers the loops. Like all of them. Usually this would be a good thing, but here's the thing - Siffrin doesn't know anyone else is looping (and by extension neither does Loop) and the rest of the party who are all quite shaken look at Siffrin's "I'm so fine guys" face and go "does he know? he doesn't know oh no"

So the party is one team of loopers and Loop and Sif are the other team.

Loop only knows whatever Siffrin knows and therefore doesn't realize everyone else knows

Everyone else goes to protect Siffrin but sorta fails

Siffrin still ends up as the weakest party member! This is because they get a choice - either remember the loops well enough to be able to coast through them or retain all their levels/strength. A part of him wanted to go with the strength but in the end, they're too scared to get far away from the party in levels.

Ironically, this stabs him in the back because not only is he the weakest by a long shot, they also drive themself insane trying to figure out if their memory is just that bad!

The party ends up super protective. Like "I would kill for this kid" and they're a grown ass adult who is currently experiencing The Horrors tm.

The AU is called the uh. The.

Let's call it the Tears and Time AU bc I can't think of a funny and that's a kickass name. (Yes I have reasoning for that ask me about it PLEASE I beg of thee/nf)

[rafesfavgirl]

i just want to know — r. cameron

another sad one bc i apparently don't know when to stop lol

❝ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man and i don't even want you back,  i just want to know ❞

pairing: ex-situationship!rafe x fem!reader

context: on the night of your 21st birthday, you run into rafe cameron—the boy who broke your heart.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: mentions of a toxic situationship, drunk!reader, word vomit, alcohol use, cigarette use, might make you cry, so much ANGST

you tumble out of the bar, your vision getting hazy from the amount of alcohol you'd drank, when two hands reach out to steady you.

"woah there, doll," the familiar drawl of his voice catches your attention, the alcohol haze fading for just a second as your eyes meet his.

rafe cameron.

"those are bad for you, you know," you point at the unlit cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth and he narrows his eyes at you, amused at your drunken state.

"and alcohol's not good for you either, but that didn't stop you, did it?" he kinks an eyebrow and you giggle.

"touché," you nod once and slip out of his arms to walk along the sidewalk, before slipping down against the brick wall of the bar to sit down on the concrete.

"alright, what are you doing?" rafe walks over to you when you begin unstrapping your heels from your feet.

"these shoes have been killing me all night," you complain, letting out a sigh of relief and tossing them off to the side.

"then why do you wear them?" rafe asks, taking a seat beside you.

"because they make my legs look hot," you say, causing him to chuckle.

he couldn't exactly argue. when the two of you used to go out, your legs were one of his favorite things about you—especially the way they looked wrapped around his waist.

"where are your friends, doll?" rafe takes the cigarette out of his mouth and shoves it into his pocket.

"don't know," you shrug. "making out with some guys, maybe?"

"and why aren't you?" he asks. "isn't it your birthday?"

that makes you snap your head towards him. "are you stalking me?"

"i-"

"i'm just kidding," you playfully hit his arm and giggle, causing him to shake his head at you, amused. "and to answer your question, i prefer to be single."

"oh?" his eyebrows raise, his blue irises boring into yours. "and why's that?"

"it keeps me focused," you say, pointing a finger at your forehead.

"focused on what?"

"school, college, my career…" you begin listing things off, and rafe listens intently. "i wanna be a doctor, you know. can't be out and about dating guys and getting my heartbroken."

"just 'cause you meet a guy in a bar doesn't mean you gotta date 'em," he reminds you. "don't you wanna have fun?"

"i tried that already, remember?" you allude to the situation you'd put yourself in with him a year ago, the alcohol clearly clouding your judgment—you'd never bring that up to him sober. "it didn't work out quite how i wanted it to."

a sigh falls from his lips, as he glances down. "y/n…"

"hey, can i ask you something?" you cut him off, and he picks his head up to look at you again.

"are you in the state to ask me something?"

"probably not," you shake your head, a smile on your lips. "but i probably won't get the chance to ask again."

"alright, shoot," he nodded.

you tilt your head to the side, eyes locking with his. "why did you end it?"

by the way his shoulders shift and his posture straightens, it was clear he wasn't expecting that to be the question. he always thought it ended amicably because you both agreed to it—or maybe that's just what he's told himself to prevent himself from feeling bad for breaking your heart.

"i mean, was it me?" you continue when he doesn't answer. "did i do something wrong? was i not experienced enough? did you just feel bad for me? what was it? cause i've driven myself crazy trying to figure it out and i just— i thought we were having fun."

you knew that you'd began to ramble, questions slipping out of your mouth with no filter, the alcohol winning over.

his eyes scan over your face, which looked to be in agony, your eyebrows scrunched and your eyes pleading.

"we were," he nods. "y/n, it never had anything to do with you."

"then why?" you asked, voice cracking.

the alcohol was now making you emotional, and there was no stopping it.

"why did you end it, rafe?" you poke a finger at his chest. "i thought you liked me."

"i did," he said, hand reaching up to push a piece of your back. "oh, pretty girl, i did."

his touch lingers for a second before it's gone again, and your eyes are welling up with tears.

"then why were there always other girls?" you ask, surprising him—he didn't know you knew about them. "if you liked me, why was there always someone else? why were you always with someone else when you weren't with me? why wasn't i enough for you?"

"i— i didn't think you knew about them," he admits.

"i pretended not to," you shrug, sniffling. "thought if i said something, i'd lose you. i mean, it's not like we were dating, y'know? i wasn't your girlfriend— it wasn't my place to tell you not to be with other girls. i just thought that if i'd stuck around long enough you'd realize that—" you stop and shake your head. "you know what, it doesn't even matter. it's not like it's gonna change anything."

well now, he felt like shit. you'd played it off so well when it ended—or maybe he was just too high to notice—but seeing you like this… he'd be lying to himself if he said it didn't break his heart.  "i didn't know you cared that much."

"well, now you do," you tell him, before pushing off the ground to stand up. "and if you'll excuse me, i'm not really in the party mood anymore, so if you see my friends, tell them i left."

"y/n, wait," rafe scrambles to his feet, his hand reaching out to clasp around your wrist to stop you from walking away.

"what?" you turn to look at him, defeated. this wasn't exactly how you expected the night of your 21st birthday to pan out.

"i'm sorry, a'ight?" he drops his hand from your wrist, shoulders shrugging as his sad eyes met yours. "i never wanted to hurt you, i just— i wasn't ready."

"and that was fine," you tell him. "but you should've told me that. not pretended like you were taking me seriously when you weren't. i asked you so many times, rafe. and you lied, every time."

rafe sighs, hand motioning to you. "you were just so pure. perfect. i didn't have it in me to hurt you."

you scoff, head shaking as you eyes averted to the side. "doesn't mean you didn't."

"i know, i know," he closes the distance between you, taking both your hands in his. "and there is not a day that goes by where i don't kick myself for how horribly i treated you."

well, this was definitely news to you. when he called things off with you, claiming that it'd be too hard because you were going off to college and meeting new people, he made it look so easy. the words rolled off his tongue as if he'd said it a thousand times before. while you were falling for him, you were just another girl.

"i am so sorry," he says, eyes zoned in on yours. "the last thing i wanted was for you to feel as if you weren't enough for me. if anything, you were too much. and i mean that in a good way. i was too much of an idiot to see how special you were then."

though you'd waited for him to say those words the last six months, they didn't mean much to you now. you'd already come to terms with the fact that he just wasn't the one—hearing him say this now only provides you the closure you so desperately needed to move on for good.

"god," he brings a hand up to caress your cheek, and for just a second, you let yourself lean into it. "some guy is gonna be lucky as hell to get you one day."

"that guy just isn't you."

a small, sad smile forms on his lips, but he nods. "happy birthday."

y'all i think this one triggered something in me bc why tf am i crying rn 🌝

promise i'll start working on some cuter fics that aren't so heartbreaking!!!

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[ladylokianna]

My favorite hello, my hardest goodbye

Pairing: Aemond x fem!reader (use of Y/N). Aegon is involved (in a good way).

Warnings: okay, what can i say... angst for first instance. The one shot contains mention of blood, trauma, child death, torture and violence. Please don't continue if that's uncomfortable for you, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Ok, i have to admit that the whole idea of this one-shot was totally different in the beginning: it started out angsty with the what if? in which Blood & Cheese kill Aemond's son and not Aegon's, and i had also sketched out something more angsty, but i left it out because i didn't want to make my beloved boy suffer more than he had to. So, that draft posted a few days ago following a request i developed it better and out came a tragicomic piece, with Aegon as a master of torture helping his sister–in–law vent against her son's murderer.

Ah, i'd like to specify one more thing: the relationship between the Targtower siblings is not based on the TV series, i prefer to think of them as any pair of brothers, sometimes quarrelsome, capable of teasing each other (raise your hand if you haven't teased your brother/sister at least once in your life, come on) but absolutely willing to have each other's back.

Word count: 2798.

English is not my first language, please be kind.

It always started like that, with your breathing slowly becoming shallow and scattered, with your hands moving quickly trying to grab –or stop– something. Aemond notices immediately, as soon as he hears your breathing change suddenly in the middle of the night: one minute you are sleeping relatively peacefully, the next you are breathing as if you were drowning. He knows that shortly afterwards will also come the shakes and screams, a witness that that night continues to haunt you.

"There is nothing at all you can do about?"

Orwyle shook his head, contrite: there was nothing that could soothe the mental pain as poppy milk did to the physical one.

It was not the same pain.

Aemond shifts more towards you, slipping an arm under your neck and one around your waist, drawing you to himself just in time, before you could gesture in your sleep, lest you hurt yourself, whimpering as if what you are dreaming about you were re-experiencing again, in that very moment.

"Y/N?" he whispers as you start to cry, leaving him undecided on what to do. You call out for him several times in your sleep, your voice increasingly full of anguish. "I'm here!"

He realises he has no idea what to do, whether to wake you up or to leave you to sleep, waiting for the nightmare to fade on its own: Orwyle has recommended that he should not force you to wake up, but at the same time he cannot watch you suffer without doing anything to help you.

You call out to him once more, frightened, and this time he sees you laying a hand on your heart, your breathing increasingly shaky, as if you were ranting.

The hell with it.

He sits up and takes you back into his arms, cradling you like he used to do with your son.

"Y/N, wake up. It's all right, i'm here!" he tells you. "I know you can hear me, wake up!"

You blurt out something he can't understand and open your eyes wide, glassy, almost lifeless. He grabs your shoulder, shouting your name and shaking you out of your sleep. You finally wake up after so many interminable seconds, with a gasp that reminds him of a person who has been underwater too long and resurfaces a few moments before the end: your eyes return awake and bright, your heartbeat almost regular.

His own, much less so.

"Aem?"

Full of relief, he strokes your head, letting go a sigh.

"Tell me."

"Blood, Aem. It's everywhere. I can't get it off of my hands." you say, with an hoarse voice.

Its metallic stench seeps into your nostrils, forcing you to hold your breath and turn to him, sinking your nose into his tunic: one more second of that smell and you throw up, you're sure.

He takes your hand in his and shows it to you.

"Nothing's there, look." he tells you. "Look at me: it's all gone, it was a nightmare."

You look around, discovering that you are not in your son's room, but in yours, patrolled day and night by guards. You are safe.

You hear Aemond respond to Ser Criston, ordering him something you cannot understand, as flashes of the nightmare that tortures you since that night return to your mind.

"Oh gods, again?"

"Yes, and i should have consulted the maesters much earlier, because it gets worse every time. I'm so afraid you would never wake up again."

The bandage on your arm is still in place, your nightgown is still pristine white and your hands are clean. You shove your face into Aemond's chest, sighing a plea.

"No more, Gods, please, no more."

"I'll send for Orwyle."

"No, please, i'm not going to chug another one of his nasty sleeping concoctions... and i don't want to be considered crazy."

"We are two grieving parents, no one would dare think that."

You sigh. Every court holds a nest of vipers, and yours is no exception.

"Not in our presence, Aem, that's for sure. But i can assure you they speak widely about us. People's tongues can be far sharper than their swords." you reply. "I'm doing everything i can to move on even though it may seem insensitive from me, but it's so hard."

"I would never think that." he replies.

"You wouldn't, but i hear the voices of the whole court behind my back, to them i am now the crazy, childless mother and..." and something you cannot repeat, not in front of Aemond.

"Who said that?"

"Some women, i don't really remember who, nevermind." you try to cut it short, aware that you already talked too much and especially aware of what Aemond might do if he found out who was responsible for those rumours.

"And they were women amongst noble women or the servants?"

"You can punish them, but, you will not stop those voices, you know how it is. I just have to wait for their quacking to move on to the next topic, until then i will resist. It's nothing, really."

He returns your embrace, but deep inside you know he is already thinking about what to do to flush out whoever started the rumours and you also know how damn difficult it is to change his mind if something directly affects you: once he has set his focus to something, nothing can stop him.

"I almost forgot to tell you that Helaena tried to distract me, she helped me with a new embroidery and showed me some insects i'd never seen before, you know? I love strolling with her and the twins in the gardens, but i have a strange feeling in my stomach since it happened, like i have a knot i can't untie. I feel like i'm burning up inside and i don't know what to do." you murmur. "And in all this i have to ask for your forgiveness: i haven't asked yet how are you doing, i'm selfish."

His breath quivers a little before he answers you.

"I live with the memory of that night: i should have been here instead of patrolling King's Landing with Vhagar. They wanted me, and they took our son. You want to know how i come to terms with what happened? I spend my mornings in the dungeons, executing the death-row prisoners... my sword has never seen so much blood since it was forged."

".... and does it work?"

"Not in the way i would like. When i plunge my sword into their flesh i imagine sinking it into Daemon's throat." explains. "Even if he deserves a far worse death for what he has done."

Aemond didn't tell you that he still see every little detail. The rough stitches around your son's neck, his corpse, his bed soaked in blood.

You stroke his cheek understandingly, like you do every time you hear him crying in the safe space of your bed.

"I miss our little boy."

"I know. I would like to have another child, i know i owe you one but i'm not ready yet."

"Listen, you owe me nothing. If more children will come, fine. I will not put pressure on you, i'm already happy to still have you here. Do you understand what i mean? Don't get me wrong, i loved our son, i really did, and i mourn him every day, but to me you're the most important person i have."

As he is for you. You smile lovingly, but suddenly your gaze changes.

"I want them dead. Both of them. They must suffer. I must see their blood spill onto the ground. Maybe then i will begin to find peace."

He looks at you a little, before clearing his throat.

"I'll help you get dressed." he explains. "I'll take you with me to the dungeons."

Aegon greets you with a wide smile, in his own reassuring way, amazed to find you there.

"Imagine the uproar if our mother found out."

"It's either this or me burning the whole realm to the ground."

"Dragonstone alone would be enough... imagine burning the whole castle down with those bastards inside them."

"Don't tempt me. You told me you would do anything to ease the anger i feel, and you're still doing it." Aemond says. "Now i ask you to do the same thing for Y/N. You know to whom i refer."

"I want those two." you murmur.

"Yes, there were two, but i already had one hanged." Aegon explains. "I had all the fucking rat-catchers hanged. But if you wish, i will give orders for their families to die as well: all i need is your yes, and within an hour i will bring you the heads of their children."

That offer goes straight to your brain, piercing it like a dart and insinuating a dangerous temptation. It is frightening how you even allow yourself to think about it, to indulge in the idea of inflicting the same pain on other women, like yourself wives, sisters, daughters, mothers. Probably the same women you saw during the funeral procession, the ones who threw flowers at your son, who wept as you passed by and cursed the name of Rhaenyra, women who were already living under difficult conditions. But then, you think back to all the blood spilled that night, the blood that had soaked your hands and your son's tunic, the blood that dripped down from the wound they had inflicted on your arm, in a vain and desperate attempt to save your child.

You think back to Aemond and his burning guilt, to the way he threw that little tunic into the fireplace, to the way he clutched your hand when he ordered Vhagar to light the funeral pyre, to his desperate weeping smothered against your shoulder after the funeral when, embraced in the comforting privacy of your rooms, you could no longer tell who was consoling whom.

You can't.

Considering how hard you struggled to change Aemond's mind, when, lost in the pain of both of you, he had been on the verge of burning down the whole town.

"And once we've set everyone on fire, what are we going to do, Aemond?"

You shake your head, and the answer that rose to your lips to Aegon's question was the same one you gave Aemond.

"No. Smallfolk of King's Landing are not to blame, and killing their children will not bring mine back." you look instinctively at Aemond, standing next to you, with the awareness that they would both only need a nod from you, and place your hand on his chest. "Responsibles must die, but there are women and men out there already struggling every single day to survive with their own problems without having to pay for ours as well. Don't do anything more against the poor people, Aegon, please. Aemond, i beg you."

He scrutinises you attentively, and cannot ignore your eyes glazed with tears.

"If that is what you wish, so be it." he replies in a whisper, rubbing your hand with his own. "I won't do anything you don't want."

"You are far too generous, my lady." Aegon finally sighs. He leads you out of the guards' cabin, towards an isolated cell where Aemond unsheathes his sword, and the prisoner winces, knowing full well what is about to happen: he has heard the screams of the other inmates, the sinister sound of that sword, and the precise and lethal manner in which the prince uses it. He knows that Aemond shows no mercy, and that that rage will now fall upon him.

"I don't want to suffer." he whimpers, looking at the blade: Aemond has a habit of twisting it in the throat of the unfortunate, he has heard so many choke like that, in their blood, with that blade buried in their flesh.

"He is not going to execute you." Aegon replies, smiling. "It all depends on her."

He remembers you well, he remembers your voice, your face transfigured by horror, he remembers that night as much as you do.

"Please..." he begs, and after this, you can smell the stingy smell of the urine that dampens his filthy trousers.

"Not yet, Aem. I might need it later." you say, declining his sword.

"Oh, fuck." Aemond mutters, catching a glimpse of the long wooden plank on which a varied array of tools, lined up in religious order, make an eerie display: he certainly didn't plan for something like this.

"You don't like it, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't like it too."

Aegon shows you a rack with a few weapons, some too heavy for you, while others useless for the purpose, carefully explaining what each was for and what damage they could inflict.

Aemond remains aloof, focused on you, ready to take you back to your shared rooms at the slightest sign of discomfort.

"Let's make it simple before someone here decides to use something on me. May i suggest this spiked mace? Simple yet effective, you'll see. Here, take it. Joints first: ankles, knees, elbows... and don't forget wrists. Then, the small bones like those of feet and hands. Though, be careful not to hit vital points first or you'll miss all the fun. When you'll have enough you can decide whether to finish him or letting Vhagar do it, okay? It's up to you." says Aegon.

"Vhagar doesn't eat shit." protests Aemond, looking at the prisoner.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." observes Criston Cole in a barely audible whisper, watching you weigh the spiked mace in your hands, looking for the best grip on the handle. It's heavy, way more heavier than Aemond's sword.

"Keep your hands more apart on the handle or you will end up hurting yourself. Good, like this."

"Your Grace, you know she is so out of her she won't be able to kill him on the first blow, right?"

"Of course i do. That's the beauty of it: Vhagar will be a relief in comparison to her rage."

Your first blow hits the prisoner's left knee, smashing it with a loud grunt: his scream leaves you wanting to hit harder. Both Aemond and Aegon take a step back, letting you do what it pleases you without saying a word to stop you.

There's no turning back now. Not that you want it.

They look at you in silence for a few minutes in the disturbing atmosphere of the cell, a silence interrupted only by your grunts and the prisoner's screams, Aegon with a certain smile on his lips, Aemond with a look somewhere between worried and surprised, as if he found impossible that a woman like you, capable of compassion and love, the same woman who birthed your son and whom he watches playing with his nephews, could be the same fury that is mangling a man three times your size.

"You know Aemond, contrary to what you think, i also used to make a few trips to the library."

"In between wanking? Amazing."

Aegon ignored his teasing, focusing on another blow you're about to inflict on the prisoner's lower limbs.

"Hey hey hey... enough with the knees, honey, may i suggest you the shoulders, now? ...great, right there, that's it... see how the mace smashed the joint? Brilliant, isn't it? I may not have studied philosophy and history, brother, but you have no idea how many books banned by our Septon i have read. I'm sure that book about torture might interest you too."

"I'm not fond to torture, for too much can be counterproductive: once one gets used to pain, the whole thing became pointless. Hence i have to admit sometimes is quite useful."

"If this is her way of not going mad, let her. Let her vent."

A metallic clung interrupts them both: you have dropped the mace to the ground, exhausted, after inflicting one last blow. You look at what remains of the murderer's head with a soft "what the hell? " and wonder at what point in your murderous outburst he is dead, and how many blows you have inflicted on his corpse.

"Holy shit, Y/N." Aegon says looking at you almost covered in blood, like the stone floor and the wall behind the corpse strewn with human remains, blood and cerebral matter. "Oh wow. Look at it, it was awesome."

"Aem?"

"Yes darling?"

"I think i won't need the sword after all. Thank you, by the way." you say. "I'm done."

"Well sure, there's nothing more left to hit, sweetie. We're so proud of you." Aegon praise you, with glowing eyes. The dungeons are now more like a slaughterhouse than a prison, but you don't mind it. "Fine Aem, got it: never piss off your wife."

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 4 part 4

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])

agatha once again protecting billy with her whole body.

"I didn't think it was real! I thought it was me, that it's my fault that I can't keep a job, that everything I touch turns to shit! That I couldn't save her!"

The poison drips through (yes I love Succession). Generational curse, generational trauma. The pain of who knows how many centuries of parents and grandparents and great-grandparents times a thousand. It's like a boulder that you're carrying around on your shoulders, and you can't see it and you can't put a name to it, how could you? How can you possibly know why your mother drank herself stupid, why your grandmother abused her children? You were born yesterday and drank all that poison without knowing what it was, you let it take it over and you walk around spreading it to the world.

And amidst all the pain, alice only ever chose to blame and hurt herself and she was always gentle to others. her biggest regret is not having been able to save her mom! you know why alice never turned into a villain like agatha? because her mom loved her. as simple and as that. lorna was so ill-equipped to save alice, she didn't know what she was up against, she was in a world of pain herself. and she went above and beyond to show her child how infinitely precious and loved she was.

oh wow, I usually say I'm crying as a figure of speech, but I am crying for real thinking about this.

lilia who has lived so long and experienced her big share of suffering, knowing all too well what alice is going through. there's so much compassion in her voice

jen stubbornly refusing to care about anything but her own pain, which is actually a very human way to respond to trauma? it's like she's at a crossroads and it's up to her to choose whether she goes back to being the force of good she used to be, or whether she goes down agatha's same path. I say it's up to her because it ultimately is, but she was so lucky finding this coven and community at such a crucial moment. agatha didn't have any of it.

no! don't apologize, you beautiful, generous soul! the sense of guilt and inferiority complex is real

agatha's face when billy is attacked

she starts running toward him even before alice

but when she gets there she freezes and lets alice go check on him

when she sees he's fine, she sighs and collapses against the door, clutching her chest.

lilia is really starting to get attached to everyone, and throughout her life love and loss have always been inherently linked. she already knows she's going to lose them.

okay jen refusing to leave the circle is still funny, I'll give her that

through all this rio has been watching and studying agatha, she always does. she knows that her diabolically smart wife loves to be in charge and come up with plans. she's being encouraging!

look at how small alice is! she's been helping and consoling billy just a moment ago, despite being miserable herself.

first of all, that's hilarious, so jot that down. second of all, you know agatha is so relieved she has to put on a show instead of doing something icky like, idk, sitting in a circle and talking about their feelings. and look at rio at the drums, she's already put all the clues together as well

oooh, she's doing the thing! she's detectiving! agatha harkness ladies and gentlemen, her hobbies are women, murder and puzzles.

and who gives her the solution? who has had millennia to study and commiserate human love and grief? she says it and she looks at agatha so pointedly.

The song that's so irrevocably linked to Nicky's memory, the song that she's been desecrating and using as a means to kill. A mother took it and poured all her love into it and made it pure again. Agatha has to live with that now, and you know that's going to take root inside her and affect her no matter what

this whole performance is patti going I might be singing backup again but watch me be a total diva about it

I LOVE YOU PATTI LUPONE

you'd think that alice should sing lead vocals here, seeing as it's her trial and her mom's song and all. WELL THINK AGAIN

the massive ego agatha has, honestly. you gotta respect that.

the feeling when you are the only normal person in a group of total hooligans. did I already say how gorgeous sasheer looks in that outfit? no I didn't. you are an apparition, sasheer.

but I want the song to have its own separate entry so hold on tight, brb

go to episode 4 part 5

[mimimui]

bllk boys as your not-so bf

includes: isagi, bachira, chigiri, nagi, reo, rin

tags: use of profanity, use of 'babe', one-sided(?), angst if you squint hard enough, discord in nagi's

a/n: inspired by my not-so bf (we don't talk anymore) :b srsly idk if that guy actually liked me or not but anyway .. enjoy !

even if he's at soccer training, he answers all your texts right away. you've seen him reply, or rather, not reply, to his other friends whenever he was with you. it feels as if isagi gives you special treatment, but in reality, you barely talk in real life. he pays you no mind when you pass by him, as if you were strangers. sure, he can act like that all he wants, but he can't forget all the late night talks you had.

you've shared secrets, fears, ambitions, and questions with each other. you've exchanged greetings, selfies, and "i love you"s, yet he's able to act as if you're nothing more to him. you look at him and there's a familiar pang in your heart, one you've experienced many times before.

how much longer is he going to hide his true feelings for you? does he have feelings at all?

the morning of the sleepover your friend hosted, you and bachira lie down comfortably on the bed, clicking through your friends' instagram stories. you're on his chest and his head is on your shoulder, him being the one clicking through while you hold your phone. he occassionally makes comments about them, saying things like "that was funny" or "ooh that one's pretty, introduce me sometime?"

you frown at his comment, but he doesn't see it. you two are always so close, holding hands and whatnot. you're always mistaken as a couple, but bachira denies it quicker than you do, which is a sign you should probably take. when you all go home, your friend sends you a picture they took of you and bachira on the bed and teases you.

your heart wrenches as you tell them "we're just friends."

you share a lot of your things with chigiri, and he does the same. you always find him asking to borrow your hairbrush, if he can take a bite of your food, use your phone, and more than you can remember. can you recall when you let him use your shirt after training? yeah, that was the only thing of yours he never gave back. why would he even keep that shirt?

on his way home, his teammates asked him if the shirt belonged to his significant other. he pauses for a moment, but then ultimately denies even having one. you get a bit irritated at times, and he has to snap you out of your thoughts at the cafe you two frequent. here you are, once again sharing a drink with one straw. yes, one.

from all the indirect kisses you've shared, you should actually just kiss at this point.

you and nagi play video games together everyday. you're always seen duoing together, so a lot of people mistake you two for a couple. after soccer training, nagi's quick to turn on his computer and ask you to play games with him. fps, rpg, horror... you've played so many games together you've lost count.

in vc, he hears you groan and he stifles a laugh. you complain the player that killed you is cheating as you click through the players to spectate nagi. when you're about to mention the flank, he says something that makes your heart pound. maybe you're imagining it, or maybe it's because of a shitty headset, but did he just call you 'babe'?

you shake your head, brushing it off. you probably just heard wrong.

reo connected his online payment to your food apps, so you don't have to pay for your orders. you refused at first, but as your face recognition detects his face, your phone was now his domain. he tells you to order food whenever you want, and not to tell him when you do, he doesn't mind.

but as you see him carrying an extra lunchbox with food he made himself, you wonder who he's going to give it to. you're not bothered, of course, it was just a cooked lunch. made by reo. personally. you mentally slap yourself for thinking about it so much. are you even allowed to be jealous of the lunchbox's recipient? you're just reo's friend, and you already have access to his online wallet, so what's the problem?

yeah... what's the problem?

he's annoyingly good at minesweeper. rin effortlessly completed the board, while you're still stuck deciding between the bottom or top tile. he acts nonchalant about his umpteenth win that day, but you know he wants to brag about it to you so bad.

you sigh in defeat, asking him for another rematch, which he gladly agrees to. and, just like all other times, he completes his board first. this time, instead of laughing at you for being slow, he takes your device and completes the board for you. he complains you take too long, and that he gets impatient when his love isn't done with the game.

wait. his what?

thanks for reading (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

[adventuringblind]

Joint Coping

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: Angst

Dialouge: "Help me understand."

Summary: Max helps his partners learn to cope in healthy ways

Warnings: Selh-harm, unhealthy Coping, blood, Ferrari, Max being the sane one of the group

Notes: I would like to emphasize that this is a thing that does happen. I know because I've done it. This specifically is not something to be glorified at all. Self-harm done in groups can become competitive. This is a pretty toned down version of things I've experienced and it's less toxic. THIS IS NOT REACHING OUT. Just wanted to clarify :)

This is part of my 1000 follower celebration! Requests are still open if you'd like to participate (the link will take you to the request form).

Masterlist

Max knows something is wrong with his partners. It's like an itch in his brain he can't scratch. A sixth sense, if you will.

The two Ferrari drivers are struggling with their team. Every problem is their fault. They have become the Ferrari scapegoats. When they do poor, it's the driver. When they do good, it's the team and the car.

He's coming to the end of his patience. If he has to hear them self deprecate one more time he might actually consider making them stand in the mirror and say nice things about themselves. Can he fuck it out of them? Is that a possibility? He really doesn't know but is desperate and willing to try anything.

They both DNF at the next race. Max is a man on a mission through media and debrief. He needs to see that they are okay. At the very least not sitting through some kind of lecture a parent gives to a child.

He sprints to the Ferrari garage and runs into Carlos. Despite his injury that took him out of the season, he still comes to support his team and teammates.

"Carlos!" The Spainard spins around to face him. "Have you seen-?"

"They already left over an hour ago. Did they not text you?"

There are warning bells going off inside of his head. Something is clearly wrong and they aren't telling him about it. He's about to sprint away when Carlos stops him.

"Before you go, you should that there were some awful things said by their engineers and they looked really upset about it."

"Thanks Carlos."

Max is back at the hotel as fast as he can manage. He tried both their cells with no answer. It's killing him from the inside out with anxiety. He's probably just overthinking, but it'll feel better when he sees they are okay.

He keys the door open and doesn't bother taking off his shoes. The lights are off aside from the one in the bathroom. Maybe they decided a nice relaxing bath would do the trick. Max could also go for one. He pushes that thought aside for now.

He knocks gently on the door. "You two in there?" No response. Or at least - not one to him directly. There are a few hushed whispers, but nothing loud enough for him to hear.

He waits Aproximatley ten seconds before he can't handle it anymore and swings the door open. He expects to see fogged mirror and water on the floor. Instead he's met with the sight red wrists and thighs.

He's lost. Max Verstappen has no idea what to do.

They are stripped down to undergarments. Legs dangling over the side of tub. A switchblade in the hands of Charles. They both look teary eyed and doped out. Are they enjoying this?

God, he feels so stupid. Weeks of having Sex with no lights on, sweatshirts in hot weather, no swimming and doing private ice bathes away from trainers. He should've noticed. Max could've stopped this sooner. He wants to rewind and tell them to come to him instead of relying on this to get the through.

"Guess you caught us." Charles let's out a half assed laugh. "You gonna stare at us all night? Or can we get the yelling part over with? Last three partners left us when they caught it. I understand if it's to much. Not your burden."

Max had been a later addition. The two in the bathtub had been together since their teenage years. Had they been Coping like this for so long?

"Sorry about the mess. Relapses are hard. We made it all season until a month ago." She leans her head onto Charles' shoulder. How can they make this type of environment endearing? This is unreal and they need serious help. Which Max will eventually get them when he can get his act together.

He kneels on the floor in between them. Max is just now registering the tears on his cheeks. They'd been in pain for so long. It hurts him just thinking about it.

"I'm not going to yell-" he looks at one. "-I'm not going to leave-" he looks at the other. "But help me understand. I want to help."

"It's easier to do with someone else around. It's more therapeutic." The lopsided smile on the female's face is not helping Max. He has to many questions.

First, he gets them cleaned up. Neither of them flinch when he disenfects the wounds. They don't look at him as he wraps them in whatever gauz is in the first aid kit. They look ashamed as he puts the knife in his bag and rinses the tub.

The one that gets him, however, is the look of pure confusion when Max hugs them both so tightly. It's like they don't know how to respond.

They sit in a circle on the bed. It's comfortable and Max can see both their expressions clearly.

"I know the struggle." He starts. "Punishing yourself is better then someone else doing it, right? But I had Daniel there reminding me to reach out."

"It's just easier this way."

"Easier isn't better. Look at the state you're in. I'm not leaving, but I am getting the both of you help."

He followed through with this the next morning. Then looked supposed to see him when they woke up. He, and his childish mind, kissed all the cuts and scars. Every single one of them received proper treatment.

The female cried and thre her arms around Max. Charles had looked away in shame. The reasons they started this are still foreign to him, but that's not his priority.

He gets them help. All of them, mind you. They do group sessions as the three of them to find healthier ways to cope with each other.

Reasons seem to fade into the background because they don't matter as much. The important thing is that Max caught it in time. That he didn't lose them to their own minds. They are partners, and Max would be devistated to lost someone he loves to those dark places.

He rests easier now that the itch has been scratched. His partners are doing better. They smile and laugh at his stupid jokes again. A bit of confidence regained.

And Max reminds them daily that nothing is worth it if you have to destroy yourself for it. Drivers or not, he loves them regardless.

[squinch-depraved]

plllsssss write more for that virgin au i fell in love with it!! i would love to read about schlatt finding out about charlie by accident

ok here's how schlatt finds out about what went down between you and charlie, v short just to get us to the next part where our boy teddy gets to have some fun so stay tuned for that :3

charlie is just. unable to look schlatt in the eyes.

like, he feels so guilty.

even though he didn't technically do anything wrong, charlie feels horrible for breaking down and asking you to sleep with him

and he's got a few hickeys visible, despite his best efforts at covering them up

so ted's all, "ooh, someone got some this weekend!"

and he tries to get charlie to open up about it

but he just mumbles something about not wanting to talk about it and moves on

schlatt flags this as weird, but ted just shrugs and says charlie doesn't have to talk about it if he doesn't want to

but schlatt just can't move on from it.

charlie looks guilty.

he never looks guilty.

what did he do?

schlatt has to figure it out; he's got this feeling in his gut that something's wrong about the whole situation

but he just keeps studying, waiting to see if he can gather any extra information

and he does.

charlie makes the mistake of leaving his phone out, face up, when he goes to talk to a friend about something that happened in one of their classes

a text from you lights up the screen, and ted, sitting next to charlie, reads it first

for schlatt, the phone is upside down, so it takes him a minute

but once he processes your message, he's piecing it together in his mind and his blood runs hot

"'i'm not going to be the one to tell him. you're the one who begged for it, you have to explain to him what we did.'"

he repeats the message out loud once more and slams his books closed, shoving his things into his bag and furiously slinging it over his shoulder

"dude, you aren't even together, you can't control them," ted reasons, trying to salvage the hangout

charlie saunters back over, face falling once he checks his phone and sees schlatt towering over the table with a scowl on his face

"hope it was worth it, man," he mutters, voice laced with anger

"i- i didn't mean to hurt-"

"doesn't matter. i'll see you guys later," schlatt spits out, stalking away from the table and slamming through the library doors

it's silent for a bit before ted speaks

"he'll get over it. give him some time."

"...i hope so."

"he will, he just needs time to realize he doesn't have any say in what y/n does and he'll be over it like that."

ted snaps his fingers with the last word and receives a shhh from an attendant shelving books nearby

"maybe. he really likes them, though. i think i might have actually fucked up this time, ted. it was incredible, but i don't know if it was worth losing schlatt's friendship."

charlie runs a hand through his hair and blows out a frustrated exhale

"maybe he would be less mad if i slept with them too?" ted asks, more wondering aloud to himself than anything

"because then he would have to be mad at both of us," he says as he works through his thought

"and then you wouldn't feel as bad about being the only one to do it!"

charlie just stares at him for a bit

"are you fucking serious, dude? you're gonna make it that much worse?"

"look, man, if i sleep with her, and tell him, he'll be mad at me too, thus taking some of the blame off you. do you see what i'm getting at?"

"yes, dude, i see what you're getting at, but it's a shitty plan and he's just gonna kill both of us."

"...we shall see," ted answers with a sense of finality, grinning as he packs up his stuff

"i'll let you know how it goes." he smirks down at charlie one last time before pulling his phone out of his pocket to check it

"you're an idiot!" charlie whisper-yells as ted struts away

but ted just raises one hand, middle finger sticking up, and exits the library, determined to get in on the bliss that his best friends had experienced so he would no longer be the only virgin in the group

he's humiliated that he's the last one left, but a trip to your apartment will surely change that

so he takes a deep breath, adjusts his bag, and walks to the side of campus that your home's on, excited to see how this whole situation will unfold

[coffin-ramblings]

Ashley is "very not good" and "in fact very bad". That is what the promo card tells us.

The flippant attitude to cannibalism and murder, the abuse and manipulation of Andrew, and constant death threats to Julia prove that, so why do they need to say that? Isn't that enough to prove that she's a bad person? On the same promo, we are told Andrew "exists" and is a "doormat extraordinaire", which while true, is a lot more complicated than it looks. He does not just "exists", he was the one who raised Ashley thus one of her "creators", and he is not that much of (if he ever was) a doormat extraordinaire, he lets Ashley make the choices because it's what he wants, and has asserted power several times throughout the game for his and Ashley's benefit. So is what the promo says about Ashley completely true in light of that? Is the truth perhaps a lot more complicated, as it was with Andrew?

Furthermore, it's quite odd how Ashley is quick to accept being called a "tar soul" and how she implies she's a bad person too when she and Andy buried Nina's body.

And in Decay vision, if she kills Andrew, she goes on a rant about how she's glad he's dead, despite it clearly being the worst thing she has ever experienced.

While it's easy to think that she's having a mental breakdown and saying stuff out of madness, I have seen someone (can't find the post though) argue that this is Ashley's attempt to continue her self-narrative that she is a "bad person". She believes no one likes her because she's a bad person. She thinks not even Andrew likes her, and she "has to" drag him the "good person" to be her level of the "bad person" to keep him stuck with her. And when she kills her brother, her parent, her best friend, her soulmate, her everything, she immediately jumps to the justification that she is glad that he died instead of being devastated that he tried to kill her, because bad people can't feel remorse and heartbreak from having to kill someone they love, right?

And I'm inclined to agree with them. Ashley's thought process of pranking Nina is that she'll have her back as a friend after she learns her "lesson", even though she isn't happy being constantly left out or avoided by her.

She didn't hate Nina then, she was afraid of being even more lonely than before if Nina takes Andrew's attention away from her. And her initial reactions to Nina's death was to go "oops", try to justify why she died, cover it up by burying her, and after she's buried, Ashley says that she can just forget about her by not thinking about her for a long time.

That is not the reaction of someone "bad" reveling in their victory of an innocent person's death and trying to get away with it, that is the reaction of a kid who went through something traumatic, not want to get in trouble for it, and trying to rationalize it with something that sounds like an adult in their life (Renee?) would say. Then their brain triggers dissociative amnesia because remembering it would cause great stress and PTSD. Given how stressful Leyley's life was and still is, it makes sense that's her brain's main coping method, and Nina's death was just another instance of it shunting trauma away in an attempt to keep PTSD from happening. It is likely that amnesia made Ashley quite forgetful, as dissociative amnesia does not affect just one singular event, it also affects other memories as an overprotective measure. This also may be why she develops such a flippant attitude to their crimes: joking about them helps her not have to confront the weight of what they just did. Thus, even that attitude being a marker of her being a "bad person" is more questionable. Really, her actions that have the intent to directly harm people are what her make a bad person, but I digress.

The idea that her flippant attitude is perhaps not a good marker of her being a "bad person" is best shown in Episode 1 after they eat the neighbor. Ashley is made aware that her devil-may-care attitude is quite abnormal and worrying for Andrew, which worries her. If she talks before going to bed, she gets visibly confused and worried at Andrew saying she needs to see a professional.

When he later asks how she's so unbothered by the cannibalism, she replies she says she compartmentalizes nervously, which she then follows up afterwards with a joke to not have to dwell on it.

That specific coping method of compartmentalization is the same thing Andrew's brain does in his dream in Episode 2, where it ends with him having a flashback of burying Nina.

In fact, it's interesting how we never get to see adult Ashley's every day psyche. This is not the same as seeing her thoughts and perspectives in the waking world, nor is it the same as the Burial vision where it's Ashley's self-narrative of her life from childhood to adulthood and how she potentially changes it. We never get to see her dream without it being a vision, a glimpse of what her mind looks like in the present processing her experiences in the every day and the past.

This is particularly crucial because while Nina appears while Andrew's brain is doing its standard compartmentalizing of Andrew's current stresses, the only times Nina appears in Ashley's head (outside of Burial vision) were flashbacks of when she is doing this as a child. While it's framed as the moment when Andrew "proves" his devotion to her, flashbacks similar to PTSD ones can happen alongside dissociative amnesia, and they do occur in dreams. Even though Ashley has forgotten Nina's name and eyes, she is always there, haunting her dreams.

This all suggests that the plot twist of our perceptions of the characters in episode 3 is that when we finally get to play Ashley in her normal dreams or see her mental breakdown (maybe if she kills Andrew?), we find out that she feels some sort of guilt for Nina's death and perhaps their other crimes. Even though she insists to herself she doesn't feel guilt about that because she is a "bad person", it is all a lie that she manages to convince to herself and the audience. This would be very shocking as we're in her head a lot of the time, so we'd assume she can't lie to us. But she has all along, just like how Andrew has to us.

[circeyoru]

Yandere Alastor react to soul owner reader it hurt [ again ] but this time it's a badly injury.

Let's just say the reader got sneak attack by some demon.

[ Who ever that demon is Alastor not going let that demon go in the most peaceful way ever ]

Nothing much I just want to see Alastor being really protected and in his true form.

After he's finished with that demon Alastor quickly helped the reader and being really really protected if anyone getting a bit just a little bit too close Alastor well standing at deadly also really clingy like cleaning more than usual.

[ I think the reader understand why but get a bit annoying but understand why ]

That's all I got like I said before stay healthy and strong don't forget to drink water too!

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

I gotcha! I'm setting this as before Alastor gave you his soul. We don't have enough moments for those times. So this one will be a bit long~

Enjoy!

It was a simple shopping trip. One simple shopping trip. In and out. As simple as that. A 3-year-old would have gotten things done as easily. But nooooo. This is Hell, things are bound to be troublesome.

Like this stupid scene.

"Ugh..." You gripped onto your dominant arm, a big gush that covered your arm with blood oozing out of it. One of your eyes squeezed shut from the pain, and you sat in the debris of what remained on the shelves of canned food. Your legs had long given out from the knockout and impact. "What's your problem?"

"Maybe you should have given me everything, instead of being such a f**ker and act all cool and sh*t." The demon snarled, picking up a random beer bottle to aim another throw.

You closed your eyes shut; you just have to take it and let this stupid demon have his fun unless it was of a sexual nature, then you can heal yourself and get home to your comfortable anime and music. Your body tensed as you mentally prepared what's to come.

Only, it didn't. Instead, there was a loud static that rang.

Your good eye opened and widened a bit when you saw the scene in front of you.

"Dear, you were taking a while. I knew I should have come with you instead of standing guard." Alastor's radio-filtered voice growled threateningly while his antlers grew in size and length. His sclera turned black, his iris glowed red, and his form enlarged to tower over the market shelves.

"Your funeral.." You sighed as your book holster, picking out your book and turning to a page to rip it out and blow at it. A transparent jelly-like substance dome formed around you, a barrier. "Honest, I warned you."

The demon laughed, "You think this is intimidating? Sure, go ahead and kill me. Demons can't die unless with those flying f**ker's f**king weapons anyway!"

You rolled your eyes. At this point, this demon was being a complete idiot that death was too good of an end to give. "Yeah... A quick and painless death is not exactly his style." Your eyes wandered to the side, "Ask the souls in his broadcast later on."

"Broadcast?" The demon turned its head back to Alastor, fear and regret on its face. "What..."

You tried your best to ignore the demon's screams and Alastor's maniacal laughter. The nearby demons also tried but failed to leave the vicinity. But it was hard to ignore the occasional blood splatters that came in contact with your shield dome, every time red came into your peripheral vision, you unconsciously flinched. It has gotten to the point that there were limbs thrown all around the place. You shouldn't have glanced over to Alastor because you saw him devouring a demon whole in his giant form.

You turned away. Sure Hell was disturbing and you watch similar things, but this was so much different when experiencing in real life. Not to mention, Alastor was your roommate at the moment. At times like these that you wonder if he even needed you saving him from that time.

Silently, you took out your pages to weakly scribble on the page for a light form of healing. When you were done, there wasn't a wound on your body to prove your pain or the torn clothes. Still, you didn't move because you didn't want to be a moving target to the crazy psycho demon who was having his fun.

The last straw was made when the demon's mangled body was dragged into the shadows while claws tried to save its fate. "Hey! Help me! Please! I'm sorry! Mercy!"

Alastor grinned, enjoying and savouring the pleading demon that was showing the two of you such a pitiful display. The sick joy he felt when he brought the poor thing to your mercy. Oh, this has to be love. He can't imagine another being taking away attention that was rightfully his but you.

And that cold and indifferent in your eyes, that pretty face that only displayed the hint of annoyance and disgust to the demon. "Like I told you when you first stupidly approached me: You'll regret talking to me."

Alastor's head snapped to the side, the shadows dragged the demon into his cane. Screams of the demon echoed but then silence came. Another voice of screams to the endless broadcast of torture.

As quick as it started, it ended. Alastor shrank down, fixing up his outfit before his eyes wandered to where you were. He made quick strides to you and bowed in a manner that was so familiar to a certain character. "My Dear, everything's dealt with."

The barrier dropped after a few seconds when you accessed that he was speaking the truth. It was more in the way of knowing he wouldn't direct his bloodthirsty destruction onto you as well. Since you weren't very nice to him, "So it would appear."

Alastor's eyes narrowed while his smile grew, solely focused on your weakened self. "May I carry you back? I can't imagine letting myself watch you limp through the streets!"

You looked away with a scowl and a slight frown, you didn't want to admit it, but you were in no condition to walk back and your healing took a bit out of you. "Fine. Just this once."

Swiftly, without missing a beat, Alastor already had you in his arms like one would carry a princess or lady. "Wonderful! I'll treasure this moment!"

You made yourself comfortable, you knew Alastor would take the long way home, you played with your fingers while you listened to his heartbeat that was a bit fast. You peeked up at him, he was keeping a watchful eye on the demons around.

"Don't get used to this. You're leaving soon."

Alastor didn't say anything, but his laugh told you he saw it as one hell of a joke.

Later on when you look back on this moment, you'll be wondering if that was meant for him to hear, or yourself.

[thefirstknife]

The thing about the final lore tab is that, besides the fact that I'm devastated in ways I can't put into words, the way Saint was affected by this whole thing is unique.

This is obviously primarily Osiris' trauma that we can't really properly comprehend, but Osiris wasn't fully conscious for most of it. It fell to Saint to wait, and hope, that Osiris would be brought back and that he would wake up. There was no certainty for him there. And even before that, he watched "Osiris" being strange and distant and acting weird but obviously nobody could even begin to speculate that the person he interacted with wasn't Osiris at all, so the trauma went from there, from learning that he lost Sagira, then to the shock of Osiris being kidnapped and then the quest to bring him back and then him being brought back in a coma and then the 9 long months of waiting until he woke up.

The state of constant anxiety he experienced for almost 2 years total is nervewracking and gutwrenching. I don't think we can fully understand the impact of that on someone. And the best, or worst, thing is that Saint is infinitely patient. He is infinitely emotional and merciful and opts to be the better person and to wait and wait and wait. And hope that it can be fixed.

Except it can't. It can't be fixed. And not only can it not be fixed, but there will never be justice for it. It's impossible. There isn't a way to truly punish Savathun for what she's done. There is no relief or catharsis for Saint. While Osiris can mostly move on, Osiris did not really have to go through what Saint had to go through. Their traumas are different and Saint's is the type that no one can really understand and there is nothing he can do about it.

A younger Saint would've killed Immaru and then Savathun, 100%. But now he can't, because he isn't that person anymore. And yet, the grief and trauma remain and he has no outlet for them and nothing that can be done to enact any sort of justice. So he settles for pure rage, letting himself essentially vent that anger out, but still leave everyone alive. And there's really no true release here. He got a brief satisfaction of killing Savathun over and over, but at the end of the day, she will walk away and nothing will change and there will be no fix.

Which is why he comes back and just cries. As he said, this wasn't for Osiris, it was for him. It was his outlet for anger and nothing else. After that, there's nothing else left to do but cry. No one can really help him carry the burden of what he's gone through and besides: he's a Titan. He's the one carrying other people's burdens. Which just added to the trauma because for so long he's only cared for others, mostly for Osiris, and never really let himself fully grieve or talk about it. Saint never really processed the horrifying ordeal of constant concern for his loved one, then the realisation that his loved one isn't even with him, then the desperate search and then waiting for months and months for the hope that his loved one might wake up. Then Osiris is awake and we're forced to play allies with the person who traumatised both of them in an incomprehensibly terrifying way. Saint had no other way of attempting to make his peace with the situation.

Year of processing grief. I'm in shambles.

[inspirationalucky]

"THE MORTUARY ASSISTANT" PROMPTS & STARTERS. demonic possession & hauntings. adjust as needed!

"i need help! someone's outside!"

"just try to stay calm. i know you're scared."

"this is very sudden, but listen to me. we have to start right away."

"i'm sorry, i didn't know until it made itself known this morning."

"i didn't know that it was here... let alone bound to you."

"i had no way of knowing the possession had started."

"you need to take this seriously. you need to act quickly."

"you can't leave, [name]! i can't allow that for you... or for others."

"so we stay calm... ok?"

"treat it like a normal day. staying focused will help."

"you don't have to believe me, but i hope you do before it's too late."

"the only way to save yourself is to banish the demon before you're too far gone."

"you'll need to learn the demon's name, bind it to it's chosen body, and burn it in the retort."

"i know this is a lot to take in."

"i had years to learn what i know. you have hours."

"you can't trust the phones. anything can be manipulated."

"good luck, [name]. i'm sorry this had to happen."

"yeah, screw all of... whatever this is."

"to banish a demon to hell, it must be bound to its chosen body and burned."

"you're just seeing things."

"i'm just seeing things... i need to get back to work, it's fine."

"it's my fucking fault!"

"don't really have a choice... i'm stuck here... fuck."

"you did this to me... it's all your fault."

"why are you still doing this?"

"i'm going to kill you, [name]."

"why did you let me die? this is all your fault."

"i regret every second with you."

"time is running out, [name]."

"hate me all you want. he's dead because of you."

"you should be the one here. lifeless... worthless... you're a waste of this body."

"you're wasting this body... give it to me."

"i should be killed on sight."

"this should banish the demon."

"my coming shall herald glorious sorrow."

"i will claim the flesh of man for my own."

"i need you to let me in, sweety."

"don't you love your grandma?"

"it's so cold out here... i'd love to come in... let me in, [name]!"

"let me in you little bitch!"

"i just want to visit you. don't you miss me?"

"awww, what's wrong [name]? don't be afraid of your [relation]!"

"i knew you'd find me... i'm all alone and scared."

"i'm fucking scared! didn't you hear me?"

"help. me. get me the fuck out of here!"

"oh, look at this... who are you now?"

"who could do this to someone? i think you should let me out."

"you'll be here soon."

"ok baby don't worry... it's ok, it's ok. i'll get you out of here."

"no, no, i'm not going!"

"get me out of here, they're gonna kill me!"

"come back! let me out!"

"where am i? what happened? let me go!"

"i'm sorry, this is the only way."

"seriously, [name], why are you hiding? don't be scared."

"let me out you little shit! you'll fucking burn!"

"you can never fix what you've done! see you soon."

"it's nice not to be the one down there for a change."

"did i make it? is it over?"

"it's never really over."

"oh, i've just been waiting... for so, so long."

"[name] isn't here, you fucking idiot!"

"here i am, you worthless old shit! here i am!"

"it's never over, but you survived."

"can i leave? i want to go home."

"you can leave. but once an entity finds you, all the houses of hell will do anything to get back to you."

"i'm sorry, but it doesn't end here."

"from now on, there's always a chance this will happen again, no matter where you are."

"i don't want this! i just want to leave! what do i do?"

"i'm sorry, but there's no going back."

"so, what? you're waging some selfless holy war?"

"it's not a war. it's survival. and i'd hardly call it selfless."

"i wish i could claim to be someone better, suffering hell to save us all."

"i simply want to live another day, just like anyone else."

"i could run and live the rest of my days in fear, or i could learn to face it and keep some semblance of a normal life."

"i don't know what you experienced, but i know it uses the worst parts of you against yourself."

"the more you experience, the more you'll confront the darkest parts of your life."

"i'm offering the tools to take control. the choice is yours. i hope you come back."

"what you've been doing is monstrous!"

"i've said already that i've had to accept everything about myself. just like you do. this is a necessary evil."

"she's down there right now, just suffering for no reason!"

"[name] is not down there! not anymore, she's been gone for years."

"you want to have a chance at life!? it comes at a cost. this cost!"

"you have to make a choice just like i did."

"i've seen many experience what you did. none have survived."

"i've watched them degrade and suffer until they're no longer themselves."

[yukidragon]

Mafia AU

What if MC rejects Bo because of his promiscuous past and is currently interested/admiring someone else that they find ideal?

That is actually one of many reasons why my DachaBo MC Barbie rejects Bo in the Mafia AU. (Or at least in the beginning.) It's just that the situation Alice's is in is the primary reason why Barbie has a bone to pick with Bo and the rest of the Blouin family. Bo being a horndog is a more secondary concern.

Content warnings: This post will contain talk of yandere obsession, violence, torture, criminal activities, and the like.

Much like in the game's canon, Bo has strong yandere tendencies in the Mafia AU. He's not going to let go of his puppy so easily once he's become obsessed with them. His feelings and desires are so much stronger than he ever experienced with anyone before. How is he just expected to let that go when thinking about his puppy drives him crazy?

If Bo found out his puppy was interested in someone else, well... He's the type of wise guy who eliminates problems. He's no stranger to the thrill of the hunt, of getting rid of anyone who gets in his way... provided his boss gives him the go ahead. Jack keeps him on a short leash. He can't just go around killing random people unless he's got a good excuse for it. Gotta make sure nothing bad gets back to the Blouin family to risk their public-facing reputation after all, even if he's not a part of that side of the business since he's the hunting dog after all.

This Bo is pretty dangerous. He's killed and tortured people before. He's hurt people to send a message. He's made a game out of hunting down his targets, terrorizing them, then savoring their fear as he ends them. People who know about him have heard many horror stories about what happens to those who cross him.

Bo won't necessarily jump to eliminating the competition right away, but he is a fan of terrorizing his prey. If they don't back away from his puppy after he gave them a warning, it's not his fault if he gets territorial, is it?

Few would have the guts to stick around after Bo gives his "warning." Psychological and physical scars tend to make people look for a date elsewhere.

Really, Bo having a literal body count is far more of a concern for Barbie than his figurative body count. Granted, she's not the type to want to be with someone who sleeps around a lot. Barbie wants someone completely loyal to her, and Bo is clearly not loyal to his lovers like he is to the crime family he works for. Hell, even that loyalty is conditional considering he wants to be his own top dog. Overall, he's got quite the uphill climb to earn her trust.

Barbie doesn't like people in general, and she's on the aroace spectrum. She's the type of person to be attracted to those she feels secure with, someone she knows she can trust to only want her. Any suitor would have a hard time winning her over. Bo in the regular universe snuck in past her walls because he was a literal toy. These two things combined makes it unlikely that she'll romantically pursue someone, especially since she'd be single-minded in her focus to take down the Blouin family and free Alice from their clutches.

Still... it would be fun to throw in a variable. What better rival for Bo could there be than Simoun?

Barbie might not like people, but if she can find someone she can trust to help her in her mission, she might start warming up to them. Simoun would be the result of a mad scientist's experiment, like Bo, but unlike Bo, he broke free from anyone's leash. He's a free agent, working for no one but himself, though you can hire him... for the right price.

At first their relationship is just business, with some spicy quips here and there. Over time, Simoun grows to like how much of a spitfire Barbie is, while Barbie slowly starts to see him as a reliable partner, especially when he pulls her butt out of the fire more than once.

Bo, naturally, isn't going to like that "his" puppy is hanging around with some mangy cat. He and Simoun probably have a history too. It'd lead to some very intense encounters. Simoun won't hesitate to use the fact that Barbie is working with him as a means to get under Bo's skin. It's even worse when Simoun starts catching feelings for Barbie.

In this universe, Bo is going to start off on the wrong foot for sure. The more forceful and aggressive he becomes, the more Barbie will push back against him. It's not the sort of aggression that leads to slap-slap, kiss-kiss scenarios though. Barbie is the type to dig in her heels and dislike someone more for that.

Meanwhile Simoun might be a bit spicy with Barbie, he's on her side from the start, even if his reasons originally were for money. He's in a much better position to bond with her and for that bond to grow into something more.

Compared to Bo, Barbie would find Simoun to be more ideal. The more Bo taunts her and hunts her down like a dog, the more she'll reject him and favor Simoun, and that will certainly drive Bo crazy.

Really, unless Bo learns that Barbie isn't a conquest to be hunted and tamed, he's never going to earn her love. She'll just fight him tooth and nail, and he'll push her right into Simoun's arms.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

[ae-azile]

I have another ChanBig plot for a fic in my head, one that would be dark, explicit, and somewhat traumatizing. 😬 It was likely loosely inspired by the information Chan provided in Gossip After Death, where Korn was considering throwing Big into a business deal with people who wanted to "alter" his duties. I feel like I am literally incapable of writing a one-shot in this fandom, so idk if I will attempt it or not, but here is the general outline:

Despite not taking any time off for an extremely long time, Chan takes extended leave to care for his dying father. The family is supportive and tells him not to worry about anything while he is gone. They encourage him to take whatever time he needs. While most of the guards tend to be intimidated by him, they offer their well-wishes and condolences when they cross paths with him prior to his departure. The only guard who goes out of his way to see Chan is Big, who brings him food and offers to help him pack. He offers to sit with Chan the night before to watch a movie. Chan surprises himself by saying yes. He didn't realize how much anxiety he had over everything until he was presented with the option of Big leaving or staying for a while.

Big drives him to the airport the next morning. Chan's father lives in London, and it will be a long flight. Big surprises him with some books and downloaded movies and shows on a tablet to help make the flight go faster and for him to take his mind off of things. It's something Chan needs. He doesn't particularly like his father. For the longest time, he hated him. He is starting to question why he agreed to do this. When he sees his father - sick, dying, and still as nasty as ever - Chan wonders if he might kill the man before the cancer finishes the job.

But there are some good things about going back to London. He sees his grandmother, who is somehow in much better shape than his father despite her age - and much nicer. Chan doesn't see how the two are related. He also catches up with a few cousins on his father's side, as well as their children. However, the best thing about being back in London is surprisingly the people who reach out from Bangkok.

Mainly one.

At first, Chan is curious, slightly critical, and surprised that Big has his personal phone. It's normally against the rules outside of certain circumstances. But then Big says that Chan isn't on duty to enforce the rule and that Porsche is surprisingly soft and empathetic when it comes to the technology rule. Chan having to leave to tend to his estranged, dying father made Porsche even softer and he convinced Kinn to do a trial run of letting the guards with seniority keep their phones so they aren't isolated from their friends and families.

While Chan has some concerns about the change, he doesn't make calls to express his criticisms. If that is mainly because he looks forward to Big's texts and calls everyday, then that's his business. He tries to stay professional and treat it as an employee checking in, but Chan finds himself talking to Big about things he hasn't spoken to anyone about. Chan even finds himself not caring about what time they talk, despite the six hour time difference. Big has a business dinner he needs to detail security for? Chan doesn't mind setting his alarm for 3 am so Big can call him and let him know everything went okay. Big can't sleep? Chan doesn't mind texting him while he feeds his father breakfast.

He prefers it.

When his father goes downhill quickly, has mere days left, and Chan is experiencing complicated feelings over the matter, only Big can ground him and make him feel calmer.

"He's going to die soon. I want him dead, but I also don't."

"I know."

"I already started arranging the funeral."

"Kinn mentioned he is on standby to get plane tickets in order to fly out. He and Porsche want to support you. Korn too, I think."

And since Chan isn't conducting matters at the moment, he can't just schedule Big to accompany them. All he finds himself doing is vulnerably asking if Big could make sure he is on their security team for the trip.

"You are one of our most trustworthy guards," Chan gives as an excuse, "I trust you to make sure they are safe."

"Is that the only reason, sir?"

Chan doesn't give Big an answer either way.

But when the funeral happens, only Korn and Pol fly out. Chan is confused for multiple reasons, and he can see that Pol does not want to be there. When Chan texts Big to see what is going on, he doesn't get a response. When he asks Korn what is going on, Korn just dismisses the concerns and says there were some minor mishaps but to focus on his family.

He ends up cornering Pol later that night.

"Khun Korn sent a few men to a get-together in order to spy on the Bianchi family. They didn't come back. Kinn and Porsche are trying to track them down and don't want to worry you when you are dealing with all of this-"

"Who? Which guards?"

"...Gear, Third, and Big."

The news makes him feel sick. He calls Kinn and Porsche incessantly until they finally give in and respond. He knows he comes off as more demanding and panicked than he ever has before, but he can't take the time to calm down. He doesn't even want to stay for the funeral. He wants to take the first flight back despite Kinn's promises to track them down and get them home safe.

And he certainly doesn't want to stay and accompany Korn back as his fucking guard, not when he is the one who sent Big.

And so he doesn't. He visits his grandmother late that night, tells her something happened and that he's leaving, and that he's sorry. His grandmother asks if it has to do with the guy he has been talking to, and he admits that it does. She surprisingly gives her blessing and he takes an early morning flight without saying a word to Korn.

When he arrives and turns his phone back on, he sees that he has several missed calls from his boss but he can't find it within himself to return them. He goes straight back to the compound and sees that Kinn and Porsche have both been made aware that he was likely coming back without notice. Porsche tries his best to give reassurances while Kinn promises to calm Korn down.

Chan frankly doesn't care. All he wants to do is get to work and track down Big.

Chan doesn't expect it to take months, nor does he expect Korn to tell him to let the matter go, that the guards can be replaced.

He also doesn't expect to quit on the spot. But since the guards can be easily replaced, Korn should have no issue finding a replacement for him. It's the first time in a while he has seen Korn look surprised - maybe even regretful - and it is probably the first time Korn has seen him this angry. While Kinn and Porsche promise to keep looking and ask him to please reconsider, Chan tells him he won't be back until Big is safe.

He only remembers to add Gear and Third as an afterthought. But by that point, Porsche's gaze becomes more knowing, and so does Kinn's.

Chan goes solo after that. He has more than enough money to live comfortably, and he doesn't need much to feel comfortable. Kinn and Porsche call to check in and to give updates on their search. Arm does too, and so does Tankhun, who tends to praise him for standing up to Korn.

Korn doesn't call once, although Chan doesn't expect him to, nor does he particularly care. All he can care about is finding Big, and it's feeling hopeless. Even when he flies to Italy to meet with a member of the family, they act like they have no idea what he is talking about. It's a wreckless meeting that leaves two people dead, and he gets no answers out of it.

He only gets answers when Arm reaches out to tell him he has discovered a large transaction between the Bianchis and the Kalashovs. Not long after, the Kalashovs rented a private plane and had an even larger transaction with the Hanchars, a prominent family in Belarus known for sex trafficking. Arm notes that the relationship between the two latter families seems new. Despite feeling sick to his stomach, Chan researches them and finds his way to weasel into their inner circle. He has skills to offer, and he is currently unemployed. When he is able to successfully send word that the top security expert for Thailand's most powerful family is looking to relocate and practice his skills elsewhere, it doesn't take long for someone to track him down.

He plays hard to get and unyielding at first. Being uninterested in what would be considered incredible offers makes criminals intrigued, and making it clear he wants to be regarded differently than he was at his last place of employment gets them to invite him to an exclusive event, an event where he can "enjoy" the best of their business practices. They will even let him bid on something that catches his eye.

While he had hoped saying yes to that would lead him to Big, he didn't expect to have to bid on him once he is put on display - naked, blindfolded, and clearly drugged. It takes everything within Chan to keep his composure as he puts in bid after bid, going high enough to make the men who think they are his prospective employers raise eyebrows. But what matters is that he's the highest bidder.

When Big is thrown at him and Chan catches him, Big immediately goes for Chan's clothes. Chan holds Big's hands in place and requests a private room. While the men in the room try to say he should let them watch - that it's more fun for everyone when there is an audience to watch the winner play with his toy - Chan says that he wants his toy to be able to see him, that he doesn't like the blindfold, and he is willing to pay extra to have a night with him alone.

They allow it, and Chan and Big are escorted to a room in the mansion. Once the door is shut, Chan rips off Big's blindfold and finds his composure crumbling.

"It's me," he says, cupping Big's face, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry it took me so long-"

"Would you like me on the bed or on my knees, sir?"

Chan pauses and takes the sight of Big in. He won't meet his eyes, he looks broken, and Chan is ready to go back out and kill every single man in the auction room.

"Neither," Chan says, "Look at me. I'm getting you out. You're going to be safe-"

"Would you prefer the wall? Or maybe the shower?" Big continues.

"Big, it's me," Chan says, shaking him slightly, "I'm here to HELP you, to get you out-"

"They're watching."

Chan pauses and glances around.

"There are cameras in every room," Big says, kissing Chan's face as he runs his fingers through his hair, "And they will keep watching until they are satisfied, especially for first time bidders. So tell me what you want and how you want to do it."

"I don't-"

"If you came here to save me, then you can't give them reason to think you might betray them," Big whispers into his ear, "They'll kill you. So I need to satisfy them by satisfying you. We'll go to sleep after and escape together in the morning. Do you understand?"

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

Notes for the plot after the rescue:

- Chan tries to make their first time as gentle and loving as possible. It's something Big is clearly not used to and is almost uncomfortable with. Chan isn't comfortable either. He hates that they are in a situation where they are both forced to do this. Chan thinks it is possible that Big is just paranoid by how much these people watch and give a shit about what they are doing. But then they get checked on by a high ranking staff and an offer for a partial refund is made if "the toy" isn't continuing to please Chan. Chan tells the staff to leave and they sleep together again. Round three happens on its own just before dawn. They haven't been bothered for hours and Big initiates, but it is all-consuming and desperate on both their ends because they both know they have the odds stacked against them as soon as they leave the room.

- The escape is brutal. While Chan is set on killing every person who put Big in this situation, Big is on a warpath and clearly holding onto a LOT of pain and resentment.

- They go on the run after they leave and somehow make it across the border. They don't stop driving until they hit Berlin and take a little time to rest.

- While Chan is relieved that Big isn't completely brainwashed like he initially believed, it's clear that he is traumatized. He routinely gets into a headspace where he assumes Chan wants sex. Or he gets paranoid that he will be dragged back to Minsk because Chan kept him for too long. He snaps out of these short episodes, but it's heartbreaking for Chan to witness at all.

- They share a bed, which comforts both of them. At first, Chan worries it may re-traumatize Big, but Big has nightmares that seem to not be as intense when they sleep together.

- Chan informs Kinn and Porsche of what happened. He doesn't get into the details, but he tells them that he and Big will not be coming back anytime soon, that Big can't handle a long flight right now. When Kinn asks about Third and Gear, the only information that Big has given is that they were too old so they were killed. Later, Chan learns they were tortured until Big cooperated with his new "job" and they were killed right after.

- When Chan thinks Big can handle a short flight, he gets him to London, where they stay with Chan's grandmother. She is very sweet to Big and makes sure he is comfortable. She recognizes he has been abused since she dealt with an extremely abusive and controlling husband.

- Kinn, Porsche, Tankhun, Arm, and Pol fly out after. Tankhun is surprisingly sweet to Big and eventually confides that he sort of understands what he went through, since he was hurt similarly when he was kidnapped. While Chan was aware of this, he is surprised Tankhun is taking the initiative to talk about it with Big.

- They take several days to go sightseeing. Chan spent his childhood and teenage years split between Bangkok and London. While he ultimately moved to Bangkok and stayed there since it let him feel close to his mother, he still has good memories of London, despite his strained relationship with his father. So Chan shows them around and the group feels like it is on even footing despite the strange dynamics.

- Korn isn't thrilled about two of his sons taking off for some extended trip to the UK. At all. It's only at this point that he starts calling Chan again. But Chan is still not returning his calls, which Korn isn't happy about either.

- The group catches onto something developing between Chan and Big. When Tankhun approaches him about the fact they cuddle together and share a bed, Chan is reluctant to talk about it but says he isn't going to push Big into anything.

- When they do end up slowly progressing in their intimacy, Chan is hyper aware of what Big needs from him and is very set on making sure they communicate with each other.

- Whether they go back to Bangkok or not is still up in the air. The same goes for their employment. Part of me thinks they might try lower risk jobs after they take the time they desperately need to relax and heal.

Anyway, that's all I have on the idea so far and it is still way more than I can do in a one-shot 😂 @chanbig @randomia-in-wonderland @fawndlyvenus I know you guys like this pairing, so you will have to let me know what you think of it!

[elliespuns]

Quiet the Winter Harbor

Summary: After Ellie experienced horrors beyond her comprehension and was forced to do what was necessary, it completely broke her. Not knowing whether he was still alive or not, she slowly started to lose all hope of seeing Joel ever again. Terrified, helpless, and lost—that's how he found her when he appeared and took some of her pain away.

Pairing: Ellie & Joel, father-daughter

Wordcount: 1.5k

Tags/Warnings: canonverse, angst, comfort, fluff, found family, platonic relationship, father-daughter, soft Joel, baby girl Ellie, Joel POV, Ellie POV

Note: This one-shot of a 'story' is based on the actual TLOU game events; on a scene where Ellie kills David and Joel comes to take her away. Ellie & Joel mean so much to me. Writing them into fluffy scenarios will always make me happy. Hope this silly little 'scene' can make you happy too.

Rushing away from the burning building that's slowly tumbling down as the flames lick the air, Joel's arm is wrapped around the little girl's petite back as he's leading her away from the danger. She's trembling. She would never thought that she'd ever go through something like this. Ellie has killed people before, but this? This was different. He was trying to—was he? He definitely was. She keeps replaying the last few moments before her eyes, sobbing softly. She had to do it. She had no choice. She didn't want any of this to happen. Yet it still did, and it absolutely broke her.

The young girl who needs him right now is falling apart right next to him, and he has no idea what to do or what to say. The man Joel wishes to torture to death was trying to hurt her in ways no girl should ever experience. She's so young, innocent and fragile. There are no right words to empathise with something like this.

Instead of opening his mouth to say something that would only make her feel worse, he just gives her shoulder a gentle, loving squeeze with his hand and pulls her closer to him as the tears keep running down her freckles and leaving salty taste on her lips.

She's quiet. He is too. He feels miserable. If only if got there sooner. The anger, the frustration, the helplessness that suffocates him knowing he can't turn back the time to do something, and her little, quiet sniffs are not making this any easier on him. All Joel wants to do is to bring that motherfucker back to life, only to torture him and make him suffer in an agonizing way. Make him experience evil—evils that he had the nerve to put Ellie through.

And even after all this, he still can't believe what a brave and courageous kid she is. Hell of a fighter. He had never seen so much strength in a person before, let alone in a little girl.

When he arrived at the scene and he witnessed what she has done to the man, he knew that he would've done exactly the same thing. Except she's a kid. She shouldn't know what this feels like. Having her clinging to him tighly as she cried, embracing her, he finally realized that she must have gone out of her way to save his life. In that moment, he regretted everything he said to her back at the farm house and from this moment on, he decided to make his life's mission to dedicate his all this kid.

He should do something. Say something. He owes her so much. If it weren't for her, he wouldn't have been here right now. Feeling helpless, with nothing but love inside his heart for her right now, he can't take this deafening silence any longer. He stops and crouches down in front of her, putting them at eye-lever with one another. The freezing, snowy path sends an icy cold feeling through his entire body as soon as his knee hits the ground and his hands reach for hers, having her lift her red, puffy eyes on him. "Listen, Ellie. I er… I have no idea what to say because, honestly, there is nothing I can say or do to take away what you've just gone through." He says softly, his voice deep but full of endearment and understanding as he caresses the knuckles on her fists with his thumbs, warming her extremely cold hands.

"Joel, I don't wanna—" She sobs, her words stuck in her throat, her teeth chattering from the cold.

"You don't have to say anything. Just know that I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry for everything. For every damn mean thing I said to you. I didn't mean any of it." He says, regretting the harsh words that left his mouth at the farmhouse before everything went down so fast and he has come to realize that he hurt her. "You deserve so much more." He assures her, his huge palms covering her fists.

"Joel, can we just—"

"No, listen. Listen, Ellie…" He stops her by cupping her wet, icy cheeks that are somehow burning up, wiping her tears away with his calloused thumbs as her sad, pained eyes peer into his and her lower lip quivers. "You are the bravest fucking kid, do you understand?" He says, his voice trembling as if he's on the verge of crying himself. "And you saved my life. No one else would care enough to take so many risks to do that for someone like me." He adds and smiles, his cold hands sticking to her cheeks as he's refusing to let go. "And you still did. You matter, okay? You matter to me. I should've never left your side and—"

It's when his words are cut short as the frail girl in front of him throws herself his way and wraps her arms around him, burying her face in his jacket and weepeing softly. "I was so scared, Joel. I was so fucking scared that I lost you." She mumbles into his neck, searching for comfort in the smell of his shirt and coat.

It was as if his heart stopped beating for a second the moment she clung to him. His arms are suddenly taking on a life of their own when they instinctively wrap around her and pull her closer before one of his hands comes up to caress the back of her head as she keeps sobbing, leaving wet traces of her tears in the crook of his neck.

They never embraced each other like this before. Freezing on the cold ground, Joel's knee that's buried deep in the snow to keep his balance steady for her starts getting numb. But he doesn't mind. He doesn't care. It's the warmth of her heart that's softly beating through her chest right against his as they keep hugging tightly, quietly, and affectionately. If it weren't for the howling of the wind, he could have sworn he heard it too.

This girl means everything to him. How did this happen? He has no idea. But he curses himself for all the time he made her life a living hell by constantly rejecting her charming, beamy, and at times, ridiculously goofy personality. She might be the best thing that has ever happened to him after Sarah, and all he has ever done till now was be an asshole. Now he's going to do better with her.

Carefully breaking the embrace, he cups her cheek again. "You don't ever need to feel like you have to talk to me about what happened there, okay? Just remember… if there's ever going to be a day when you feel like laying all this burden out on me, don't hesitate." He pays her a smile. A smile so warm and full of love it made her heart flutter.

She's devastated after all that happened, but this? This smile on his face? Smile that he never gave her before? Smile that says, 'You'll never be alone ever again.' She can't help but nod and crack a tiny smile too, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her jacket. "Okay." She sniffs, her voice trembling as she's doing her best not to cry anymore. She doesn't know how, but Joel is making her feel better. He wouldn't take away the horrors she's still replying in her mind over and over again, but it means a lot. She's never thought that one day this stranger of a man would be someone that she deeply cares about. Someone whose love would mean the world to her.

"Okay, kiddo. I don't want to spoil the emotional moment we have here, but… you're going to need to help your old man." He chuckles, trying to loosen up the tension by using humor—the one thing he knows always wins with Ellie. "I think my knee got stuck to the ground, and I also can't feel it anymore."

Ellie smiles and wipes her nose with the back of her hand before she reaches for his. "You're such a dumbass." She shakes her head and lets a few little giggles out, helping him on his feet.

Slapping the snow and filth off his jeans, he reaches behind him to grab something that appears to look like Ellie's backpack. "Here. I believe you have a few valuable things in this thing." He hands it to her, watching her eyes beam at the sight of her pack that she thought she'd never see again.

"You might be old and helpless sometimes, but you're not totally worthless." She jokes, grinning at him before she flings the pack over her shoulder.

"There she is." Joel chuckles and is head over heels for his baby girl's smile, which he thought he had lost too.

The end.

Author's note: This is not an actual attempt at a fic or a story that has a continuation. This is just a silly little one-shot I wrote for myself, and the nice people here helped me overcome my fear of oversharing my privacy, so I finally posted some of it. If anyone else already wrote fics based on this scene, just know that I got inspired by the scene itself, not by any of the stories related to it. Anyway, I hope it's not that terrible, and keep in mind that English is not my mother language. Typos are possible.