#don't be fooled he is a menace its just his first time in water that's not for bathing

[prttynrgnl]

clingy the cat Lestat in armand's tub after his frnd the cat armand & vampire lestat went out for a bit

[talaok]

PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg

Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding

a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon

You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?

Well, this is a bit like that,

not a bit actually, completely so.

And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.

It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.

I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.

And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed... 

until today

Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.

"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.

"nothin'" he grumbled, 

Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,

he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.

"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."

Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second

"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"

"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,

and as always when it was her,

he was convinced faster than he liked to admit

He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said

"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,

who sighed, again.

"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"

"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery

"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"

"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed 

"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,

perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.

"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"

again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly

"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"

"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"

"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"

Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes

"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"

It was like he froze,

and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason

"she doesn't like me" he stated

And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face

God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him

"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"

"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"

Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.

"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"

But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,

about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,

how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,

how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.

And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.

Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance

"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"

Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes

"SO WHAT?" 

You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake, 

it was only right for her to finally shout it out

"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"

But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying

"you just have to tell her"

she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.

Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.

"I can't Ellie, I-"

"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"

"that's different"

"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"

And that, for some reason, stuck with him,

He really had nothing to lose,

It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,

And yet... yet it still terrified him,

"Ellie... I don't know"

"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"

__ __ __

Joel didn't do it.

He couldn't. He just-

You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,

like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands, 

And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.

Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.

"Howdy"

The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,

but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,

he was looking at you

"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut

You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant

Why is she here?

"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged, 

Us?

"Uhm, I-"

but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind

And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.

"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly

"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.

What the fuc-

"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"

"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.

"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"

God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his

"do you- do you want something to drink?"

the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,

you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture

because that's how you were: Magical

"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"

If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,

to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.

"thank you" you said, taking a sip

god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass

Was this really happening?

Was this hell?

"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."

"that?"

"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"

Goddamnit

"oh"

Even you couldn't hide your disappointment

I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in? 

Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...

You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,

The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks... 

and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.

What a silly fool you'd been, 

hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,

but still- a girl can dream, right?

"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,

but he remained silent

"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"

Until he wasn't

"no-stop- I-"

Ellie was right. 

He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.

The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words

Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,

He had nothing to lose and everything to win,

he had you to win.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down

Think Joel, think

how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?

"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.

"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least" 

What was going on?

What the fuck was he saying?

"Joel, what are you talking about?"

This was it.

It was now or never.

"Y/n I-"

his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-

"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"

he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.

"Y-you like me?"

"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"

"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked

"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,

but you were leaning closer,

and who cared what his name was anyway

"you were rude to me"

"I was, I'm sorry I-"

You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together

But who were you kidding?

"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.

Joel was certain he had just died.

But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,

only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months

exactly how you imagined he would,

better than you imagined, actually

so much better.

"Ha! I told you, Joel!"

He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance

"What are you doin' here?"

"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face

"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile

"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"

She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile

"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"

You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red

"Ellie-" Joel grumbled, 

A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work

"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.

"maybe I was" he fessed up

You smiled even brighter 

"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time

"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around

"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.

"say it again"

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Heya, guys! Just an ask for you guys, especially for Rocky. What do you guys feel about those cyber trucks? To me, I get salty because people drive a frickin TRAPEZOID!! it looks like an oversized microwave with four wheels! Even raccoons are attacking those trucks because they think they are dumpsters. But hey, that’s just me. What do you guys think?

If only the problem would be ONLY that this truck looks like a trapezoid… Someone once joked it’s Lara Croft in her first game - I had to look that up - but to be very honest, I think she has more polygons than a Cybertruck. And that’s saying something for sure.

As the Paw Patrol’s pup who’s specialized in medicine, I'd like to say that this truck is literally a menace on wheels for both passengers and pedestrians. Have you seen the crash tests? The truck doesn’t crush when colliding with something! It’s supposed to crush so the force of impact won’t go fully on the passengers inside. Without it, if it hits against something full force at top speed, people’s organs will practically become puree against their ribcage. And if it hits a pedestrian, even at lower speeds, the chances of major injuries is insanely high because it doesn’t have any smooth lines on its frame to soften the impact against the person! Only sharp edges! It’s absolutely deadly!

It looks like something you'd see in an Atari game, of course there are people who would be a fan of it but that's a very small percentage of a specific public; as Marshall said, the very frame design makes it extremely dangerous; I absolutely DO NOT trust anything that's entirely dependant on a touchscreen to function, once the screen is out, you won't be able to do anything anymore; If you need to look away from the road for more than 5 seconds to do something on that tablet, it should be considered already a failure of programming and danger inducing; a lot of them came out of the factory with already rusty components so THAT SHOULD SAY SOMETHING; oh yeah, you can't even take it to a car wash or it'll come out a huge useless brick on the other side and if you can't wash it, you'd at least want to coat it but guess what, you can't do that either; a bunch of the panels are literally GLUED to the frame...?; every time you go recharge it you need to do it as correctly as possible to not risk the charger getting stuck and eventually breaking it; if you drive in the rain, water will leak in through the edges; you can't even haul stuff or help another car because you'll be risking to snap the back frame - it's not in one piece with the chassis, but connected by a sort of plastic piece to it...???? I swear I've seen Chase's cruiser hold and tow heavier stuff with its winch than what a Cybertruck can ever dream of doing; if anything happens to the back of this truck, you can kiss goodbye to its bed, even though it's not as big as they promised either; they basically made a fool of a lot of people by making them pay a lot more for a "Foundation Series" promising a full self driving feature that, as far as I know as of now, is still not available; the truck just has so many problems someone drove it out of the factory and not even two minutes later it bricked completely and has been at a repair shop ever since; the list goes on and on...

Some Tesla vehicles at least look good and have decent features, though they also have a lot more problems than they should, which could have been solved already by now, but they don't even try, all because the company owner is just... A bad person, let's put it like that. He's got a temper worse than Sweetie's, he thinks he's above everyone else and won't ever take a "no" or "don't". I've heard a lot of other EV companies are making better AND affordable EVs literally by looking at what's wrong with Tesla cars to not repeat the same errors on theirs.

Oh, and one last thing! This guy also went against regulation laws against hate speech in our Mod's country, which resulted on his social media website and app getting banned there. Not satisfied with that, he double-crossed the ban to make it available there again although totally illegally, by using the same IP servers that hospitals, public services and even the very Brazilian government websites use, so... Triple crime? Not gonna lie, it's funny to follow how it's going down there.

[chowaya]

DATE A PRIEST THEN,

pyro!john allerdyce x female!reader

You didn't exactly like John upon first meeting him.

When you were placed in the Xavier's School for Gifted Children -all thanks for stumbling into Logan- you were immediately encouraged to be friends with a certain trio upon the Professor's advice, to mingle around John Allerdyce precisely.

Was it power compatibility? Perhaps.

Or was it because of the personality contrast that could perhaps bring the boy some good? Really, you weren't sure what the professor was even thinking.

You had a very unique pyro-mutation, different from what many others had seen. While normal fire has its warm and orange hue, yours glowed beryl flames with hints of pink and white.

While normal fire was commonly associated with destruction, huge and powerful, and hurtful— yours was still wound afflicting but had the gift to heal, and could easily form shapes of sorts. It was unique, best believe.

Even you noticed how the said boy would be intrigued. Still, that didn't exactly make you the most civil people around each other despite the similarities and contrast that could balance you two out.

Always managing to find time to slip in snide remarks and snarky comments. Trust, you weren't usually someone who got easily riled up but that man just does it for you.

Everything about him, just does it for you.

His dick attitude, his cocky-asshole persona, his way of thinking which intrigued you none the less, his stupid big eyes that absolutely contradicted with his menacing grin and that stupid bed of hair on his head!

Bobby and Anna-Marie just let you go off at each other at this point, they couldn't bother anymore with how long this has been going on. Even the adults, are absolutely tired of your bullshitery with each other. You're an asshole to him and he hates you.

He's an asshole to you and you hate him.

But do you really? You don't.

Not really.

You know that and he knows too— no matter how much you hide it from everyone. The same goes for him. He doesn't actually hate you.

You both know each other differently, catching the other person in a different light in absurd times— you'd catch yourself sympathizing with him in a lot of situations which has you silent. You felt for him, there was that link of being so similar yet so different to him. Hating him was way more intimate than what you would've thought.

He knows your weakness and you know his.

You're exactly the same but not.

Maybe, that's why you're in this position.

Sitting at the deck of the lake nearby the mansion, the school was livelier tonight with lights and parties. How the adults allow so to happen goes beyond your comprehension.

A red solo cup in your grasp as you stared off into the calm serene water. You left the party quite early with the fault of the loud noises— it irked you. Or maybe, because your boyfriend was caught kissing another girl, asshole.

And just when you hope no one else saw how shattered you were at the sight, having been played the fool again— John did, of course he fucking did.

So, you went out and if you went to your dorm to sleep, to forget or do something you'd still be disturbed.

So he found you here.

" Why'd you follow me, Sparky? " You spoke as a sip of liquor passes by your lips, your tied in a pony tail with your legs dangling over the water.

" Drown you, " His usual voice gave a serenity of calmness with the sarcasm that dripped with it. For someone who's brash and fiery, he's got quite the calm, bassy voice. " What the hell do you think I'm doing? "

He was standing behind you, you knew it. Not bothering to swerve and turn to look at him with eyes still fixed on the water. Unfortunately, you weren't up for banter.

" John, " You softly spoke, a cold gush of wind flew by but you didn't react to it. " Not the time. "

And you hear his worn-down converse walked up to you, creaking on the wooden dock and felt his radiating warmth be close to your side. He sat next to you instead— funny, for someone with a fire mutation too you had hands as icy as Bobby's.

" Yeah, yeah. But I'm sticking around in case your psycho ass decides to pull some stupid stunt and kill yourself out of self-deprecation. " He replied, casually taking the cup from your hands to gulp down a sip as if he was given the pass to do so.

You laugh dryly, not fighting him as he steals your drink. " Hah, very funny. "

" I'm not the one wallowing in despair "

" I'm not wallowing. " You clarified, your cheeks flushed red from the drinks. You were tipsy, but the alcohol didn't have much of an effect on you. Just a hazy mind.

Your head sunk before abruptly settling down to lean on his shoulder, even the pryokinetic teenager was surprised by the action. His body stiffened at first but eventually it eased up to relax.

And he found himself settling in this comfort with you, morphing and sharing this warmth all while the silence continued. The party noises in the background not dying down any time soon as crickets croak nearby— it was so comfortable and calming.

" Jerk. " He heard from your lips so suddenly.

" Who? Me? " He queried, shaking his shoulder but the girl shook her head. Still attached to him. " Or that pathetic guy you dated? "

" Him, but you make out to be a perfectly good candidate too. " Referring to the ex at the party.

" Aren't you the idiot for falling for a guy like that? "

" Don't push it, John. " He turned his head to you, eyes gleaming under the pale moonlight. Eyes attracted to your features, tracing every line with precision. " But yeah, you aren't wrong. "

" You're not. " He admitted. " It's not entirely your fault, I should've said something and called him a bitch or something. "

You lift your head to look at him, his eyes already staring at you. Raising his brows, you raised back in question— as if questioning why'd he do that.

" Well, I never liked him. He didn't exactly sit right with me. "

" I don't think you've liked any boys that I've dated. " You took back your cup from him for a sip but Pyro pulls it away from you.

" Then you should raise your standards, woman. " He argued back. You stayed silent- maybe actually taking his words in. Absorbing it like a sponge and analysing every point of your life that somehow got you here.

Every guy you've dated, which isn't a lot to be honest, had described you as 'easy to cheat on' at some point in the relationship- you'd brush it off every time. Thinking it's more because of your tolerant and kind behavior that's just considered nice.

But no, you see the relationship you had with every person is just a repentance of a sought for love since the first relationship you had with, your parents. Just some cycle, again and again where you just yearn and get called boring in the end.

" I've made up my mind. I'm done. All guys might as well be Satan." You stated instead, swearing off relationships for the meantime as you try to figure all this out.

" Date a priest then, sister. " He remarked, a smile crept up his lips over an earned laugh from you. Slapping his knee, still laughing at his words even though it's the most stupid joke you've ever heard- borderline horrid. " That's so fuckin' stupid. "

" Then why are you laughing? " He chuckled at you, you were now laying on the deck whilst clutching your stomach as bliss just spread across your whole body. Maybe it was the alcohol that made the joke ten times better, but oh well.

" Hey, hey! " He lightly hit your stomach with adorable chuckles leaving his lips as your giggles hadn't yet died. Still going on, running for like a marathon. But once you did stop, chest heaving as you stared at his sitting figure with endearment. " I think I'm drunk. " You concluded.

He scoffed but grinned still, " You think? "

You smiled at him, and suddenly maybe things that happened with your ex-boyfriend aren't so hard to swallow anymore.

But oh, John. He was still smilling at you, you wondered what he was thinking now— he had these round eyes that were soft in stature, dazzling. Oh, yeah you're drunk.

You know this isn't usually him. In normal situations where people needed comfort, John would tiptoe across the matter not affording to make jokes— actually he'd outright avoid it. Passing it on to someone else and letting it be their problem now.

You'd see it in his avoidance of vulnerability when it presents itself in some form, he didn't like to be around it. Afraid to be caught in it— but here, you could see his trying effort.

He's really working through it. Hoping this was a stupid decision he made by comforting you would be worth it— " I should probably take you back to your dorm before Summer kills me for leaving his favourite student. "

And you really want to let him know that you do see it— that you acknowledge him, that you're thankful for his efforts. " I should bake you cupcakes for this, when I'm a little sober maybe. "

" Oh, really? How un-asshole of you. " He got up and pulled you up too, brushing his bum with his hands.

" Yeah, " You meant that.

You held your hands together to recall the warmth that was just given to you, his hands steadily holding onto you like he's your rock— " I want chocolate ones. "

[tired-truffle]

Yet Broken Still You Breathe

An AlistairxOC fic

Chapter Word Count: 5.8k

Part 47/54

Warning: Torture (Not heavily descriptive, more focused on the emotional/psychological piece)

“I don't want to just survive anymore, mom. It hurts it hurts it hurts, mom.” - Fariha Risin.

Masterlist

Thirty years until a Grey Warden would succumb to the taint, if they were lucky. Gwen, though she may not have been a Warden, was not immune to its corrosive effects. The taint came with a price and she was not the exception when it came to it demanding a toll. However, it wasn’t until ten years post-Blight that she saw any signs.

Her hair was the first to go. The white strands - stringy with age - had started to fall out, at first only when brushing her hair, but quickly it had turned into clumps. She was fooling no one when she showed up to breakfast one morning with a shaved head. Darcy stopped assigning her missions after that. 

Her eyes were next, dark veins encroaching towards fading irises like menacing spiders. The dark grey hue of her eyes was becoming almost translucent, a ghostly reminder of what they used to be. Her gums and tongue quickly followed suit, stained black with the blood that was quickly turning to poison beneath her skin. She stopped eating with the others when a few of her teeth fell out in the mess hall. 

Darcy demanded to know what was going on. He would know soon anyway, so she didn’t see the point in hiding it from him. To say he was both angry and appalled would be an understatement. He’d been passively searching for a cure for years, but the search had picked up in earnest the next day, despite his anger lingering, he still couldn’t let her go. 

Weeks went by and Gwen idly wondered if this meant that it was her thirtieth year of life. She had barely anything to show for it; her best friend unable to bring himself to speak to her, had almost lost herself to the Blight, and love harboured deep in her heart for a man she had not heard from since he’d sent his last letter five years ago. A man she’d pushed away and hurt because she was too scared to admit that she still wanted him. 

The inevitability of mortality was a cruel reality, one that could not be escaped. One moment someone was alive and well, travelling the country with their friends, and the next, those same friends were receiving letters bearing news of their passing. When Leliana's letter arrived to inform Gwen and Darcy of Wynne's death, Gwen had closed her eyes and her breaths came in quick gasps as she struggled to make sense of it all. They’d drank to her memory, toasting the mage, her wisdom, and her genuine friendship offered without reservation. Wynne had always known her time was coming, much like Gwen herself, but it did nothing to soften the blow. Was that what it would feel like for her friends when they found out? Would someone… write to Alistair? She wondered if he would feel relief that she was gone, no longer a stain upon his life, or if he would mourn her, grieve for what they could not have.

One terrible morning, Gwen jolted awake in a cold sweat, her heart pounding as the haunting melody of the Calling echoed in her mind. Ten years of silence, ten years of peace, only to have that wretched song pierce her thoughts once more. She clutched her chest, gasping for air as panic threatened to overwhelm her. The Calling was back. The taint within her had awakened, and soon she would be driven to descend into the Deep Roads, never to return.

Gwen scrambled out of bed, stumbling to the washbasin to splash water on her face. As she caught her reflection in the mirror, she recoiled at the sight - her sunken eyes, the dark veins creeping across her pallid skin. She was turning more into the monster she knew herself to be.

She thought of Alistair and a profound ache filled her chest. How she wished he was there to wrap his strong arms around her and tell her it would be alright. But she had pushed him away, left him without a word. Part of her longed to ask Darcy to write to him for her, to beg his forgiveness and ask him to return to her side one last time before the Calling took her. But she couldn't be that selfish. He deserved better than the gruesome fate that awaited her.

She’d hidden it from Darcy at first, unwilling to burden him with yet another part of her slow descent into death. But to her horror, a few weeks later, she was not the only one hearing the eery noise at the back of her skull. Darcy, and every other Warden heard it too. All except Darcy looked at her with suspicious glares, the odd one out, the one deteriorating because of the taint right before their very eyes. She was grateful they at least did not know that she was the one who had started hearing the Calling first.

Darcy started searching for clues about that as well. 

Her body had begun to weaken, pain shooting through her joints when she stood out of bed every morning, a dull ache in her bones. It was slow at first, but quickly picked up speed until— 

“I’m leaving to find the cure.” 

Gwen lifted her head from where she’d been dozing on her arm, her small desk beneath her, and Darcy standing in the doorway of her room. “What?” 

“Look at you,” he gestured vaguely to her entire body. “You’re dying. I’m not going to let that happen. You’re my friend and I’ve had to watch you fade away for ten years. And now you… I can’t just— I feel like I’ve already lost you and I don’t know how to get you back.” He avoided her gaze, his fists clenched at his sides. 

Her chair scraped against the ground and she stood, propping herself up against the desk. “Darcy…” His wide, dark eyes flickered up to her, and the guilt present within them stole the words from her lips. She swallowed, her throat bobbing. “It’s not your fault. You can’t fix me. I don’t even know if I can be fixed.”

“No, no, that’s not how this works!" He raised his voice, desperation seeping out from between his barred teeth like honey. "You’re not a liability. You’re my friend, and I won’t lose you. I should have realized the taint would affect you the same way it does everyone else. I should have checked on you more, seen the signs. I pushed Alistair away from you and you’ve been suffering this entire time—“

“Enough.” Gwen's eyes flashed as she surged forward, her hands gripping his shoulders with a firmness that shocked him into silence. “Your friendship has meant the world to me, and is likely the only reason I am still alive. Even if you didn’t notice - and it’s not up to you to notice - do not minimize your good impacts simply because I am sick.” Her grip softened as his face fell. “You cannot solve everyone’s problems, and I know you tried everything you could to not put… him on the throne, but you also had the entirety of Ferelden, your community, your family, to think about.” 

“But I hurt you.” 

Gwen shook her head, she couldn’t stand the way he looked at her, the self-blame that was eating him up inside. “This was always going to happen. It is not your burden to bear.” 

“I’m going to find a cure.” His gaze hardened, ignoring her. “Just stay alive until I get back. That’s an order.”

Gwen frowned, releasing his shoulders. “You’ve never given me an order before.”

“I’ve never had to.” 

He left a few days later, entrusting Warden-Commander Clarel of the Orlais faction with Gwen’s safety and the safety of the Ferelden Wardens. The woman stood firm in her position, committed to her duty with an unwavering determination, there was little that could get between her and her goals. She was the obvious choice. And yet it didn’t take long before things went sideways. However, this time, Darcy was not by her side to defend her and she no longer possessed the strength to defend herself.

The whispers of her deformity and Darkspawn lineage spread like wildfire among the other Wardens, quickly rising to the higher ranks. Soon enough, they became loud demands for answers from her, doubting her loyalty and abilities. Despite her attempts to explain that she too was plagued by the Calling just like them, they refused to believe her. Rumours began circulating about her struggles with resisting the Calling, leading to calls for her capture. Ultimately, they caught her as she desperately tried to escape, no more than a day's journey from the safety of the fortress walls.

She'd heard them argue as she was dragged back, bloodied and bruised.

"We can’t just keep her locked away like an animal! She’s a person, and she deserves a chance at redemption!”

“Redemption? You’re risking everything! If she’s even a fraction of what they say, we can’t afford to take that chance!"

In the end, the arguments for her release were outweighed by fear. Shackled in a damp, fetid cell, the stench of mould and decay filled her slitted nostrils, she lay down on the cold stone floor. Water dripped from the barred windows, rousing a shiver that rippled through her weakened body. As she lay there, curled against memories of her childhood that threatened to consume her, tears fell down her cheeks. It was almost poetic, she thought bitterly, to die in the same squalid conditions she’d grown up in. Black blood seeped from the fresh wounds on her back, staining her threadbare shirt as the wounds on her back struggled to heal. But what were a few more scars? She had already lost everything that mattered to her.

The chill of the cell crept into her bones, spreading like the frost that spread over her heart, numbing her limbs and making it difficult to move. She’d never really been cold before, the heat of her blood ensuring her survival, but as her body failed her, even that was stolen away. Maker Breath, did she miss him. Her Alistair… was he finally happy that she had set him free? She longed to be held in his arms once more, to feel his tenderness and protection.

It was a hopeless wish. She knew she would never see him again before her inevitable death. And even if she did, would he still care for her? After all these years apart and after seeing what she had become? The thought tore at her heart but she pushed it aside. It didn't matter anymore. She couldn't burden him with knowing about her impending demise. He deserved better than that.

Still, the ache for him persisted, just as it had for the past ten years they’d been apart. Her love for him was unwavering, unbreakable, even in the face of death.

Gwen's eyes remained fixed on the rough, grey stone wall in front of her, the only thing she could focus on as the Wardens' raucous laughter filled the cold, damp dungeon. She flinched at the sound of Warden Graham's voice - a burly man with a cruel streak that she had always despised. He'd hated her from the moment they met. His wife had been killed in a Darkspawn attack during the Blight, and he held that grudge against anything he deemed minorly related. Unfortunately for Gwen, that included her.

He dangled a bundle of faded and frayed letters in front of her face, the parchment was yellowed with age, each crease and fold a sign of the years they had been hidden away. Gwen's heart sank into her stomach at the sight of them, for she knew those letters all too well. Despite her refusal to learn how to read, she had kept them safe, tracing her fingers over the edges of the paper just as he had done, holding them close to her chest and yearning for what could have been.

"Well well, look what we found tucked away in our little prisoner’s room," he sneered. "Seems like someone's got herself a secret admirer."

The other two Wardens present howled with laughter. Gwen said nothing, her jaw clenched tight.

Graham withdrew one of the letters and unfolded it with a dramatic flourish. "My dearest Gwen," he read, pitching his voice mockingly high. "I miss you more than words can say. My heart is consumed with longing for your sweet voice, your radiant smile..."

He trailed off as the Wardens erupted into raucous guffaws and whistles. Gwen stared straight ahead, her face impassive. Inside, her stomach churned with horror.

Gwen's heart pounded as Graham continued reading Alistair's tender words meant for her eyes alone. She had hidden the letters away, never daring to hope he still cared after she had pushed him away all those years ago. Hearing his affectionate words in Graham's cruel, jeering voice felt like a violation, an intrusion into her most private, vulnerable place. She’d always wondered if he hated her, and perhaps some letters contained words meant to hurt her as she had him. But hearing how lovingly he spoke of her hurt worse than any insult.

As Graham read on, tears gathered in Gwen's eyes unbidden. Alistair's silly jokes, his admissions of loneliness, his shy confessions of love - they unlocked a door in her heart she had kept firmly shut. She had convinced herself she didn't deserve his love after all she'd done. Didn't deserve him. But the earnest words on those pages said otherwise.

Gwen blinked rapidly, willing herself not to cry. She couldn't show weakness here. She focused on keeping her scarred face neutral and passive, even as her strength waned. Inside, her battered heart ached with bittersweet longing. Alistair had still loved her, across all those years and distance. And what had she done? Thrown it all back in his face with a hastily written letter, telling him to leave her alone. If he hadn’t hated her at first. He certainly would now.

Graham let the letter fall to the stone floor as he plucked another from the stack.

"Ah, this one's even better!" he exclaimed with vicious delight. "Listen to this soppy rubbish."

He cleared his throat theatrically before continuing in the same mocking falsetto.

"My darling Gwen, not a moment goes by when I don't see your beautiful face in my mind's eye. I remember how your nose crinkled when you laughed, and how your eyes sparkled in the sun. The memory of your kiss haunts my dreams, your scent lingers on my skin. I would give anything to hold you in my arms again, to confess my undying love and devotion. I hope this letter finds you well. Know that you are always in my thoughts. Yours eternally, Alistair."

The years had not diminished his feelings, nor had her absence erased his memory. It made Gwen want to scream and scream until her throat gave out.

Graham crumpled the letter in his gauntleted fist. "Pathetic," he sneered. "Still pining after the freak years later." He leaned in close, his sour breath hot on Gwen's face. “I'm going to enjoy every second of breaking you."

Gwen met his glare with hollow eyes. In her ravaged heart, she knew he was right. She was a freak - a monster - and monsters didn't get happy endings.

"Who's this Alistair that's so sweet on you?" Graham leered, flipping the letter over to inspect it. Gwen felt infinitely grateful that she’d had the forethought to remove the royal seals. "Maybe we should let him know you've kicked the bucket, save him moping after a corpse."

A sudden chill shot through Gwen's veins, turning her blood to ice. The thought of Alistair's true identity being discovered sent a wave of panic and determination through her. She would do whatever it took to protect him from harm and was grateful that they had not put together her travelling with Darcy and Alistair - their king - during the Blight. Why would anyone believe a creature like herself could ever deserve the love of a man as noble and kind as Alistair?

She wouldn’t risk endangering Alistair, not now, not after she’d spent a decade ensuring his safety. She could only hope he wasn’t foolish enough to write his title within the letters.

"Go ahead and kill me," she rasped. "But leave him out of this. He's no one of consequence."

Graham grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to meet his malignant gaze. "Oh, I don't think so. Anyone who cares for a worthless tainted whore is either touched in the head or hiding something. We'll get it out of you, one way or another."

Summoning the last dregs of her courage, Gwen worked up a mouthful of bloody spittle and phlegm. With all her remaining strength she spat full in Graham's face.

"He is beyond your reach," she croaked. "Do your worst."

Graham backhanded her viciously across the face. Gwen's head snapped to the side, fresh blood trickling from her split lip. But still, she held his gaze, defiant to the last. She would not betray Alistair, no matter how grievous her suffering.

“Get the brand!” Graham bellowed back at one of the onlooking Grey Wardens, a twisted smile crossing his face. “You’ll pay for that one, bitch.”

It only got worse from there.

When they brought a hot poker to her cheek, burning away that skin and muscle that hid her sharp teeth, she thought of the first time Alistair had held her split cheeks in his callused hands, his eyes scanning her face with adoration she hadn’t thought she was worthy of. This can’t be how it ends, she thought desperately, recalling Alistair’s voice in her head. Think of him. Hold on to that. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to block out the cruel, mocking laughter that echoed all around her

As they brutally ripped her nails from the tender beds of her fingers, she clenched her teeth and refused to scream. They moved on to more extreme methods, cutting off two of her fingers on her left hand in a desperate attempt to break her will and make her reveal information about the Calling - but she had nothing to give. As the pain seared through her body, she found solace in thoughts of him, imagining their fingers threading together, the gentle touch of his thumb against her thin bones as they held hands. She had endured many tortures before, her nail beds desensitized from previous encounters with the Sisters, but this was too much. As she passed out from the excruciating agony and they realized they could not extract anything from an unconscious girl, she felt a sense of victory. At least her broken body was good for something, she would get to keep eight out of her ten fingers.

But with each scream that escaped her lips, a piece of her resolve fractured, the sound reverberating off the cold stone walls like shattering glass. She lay twisted in her chains; time stretched languidly. Each second felt like an eternity as the pain settled in, anchoring her body down, while her mind fought against the darkness that beckoned with sweet promises of relief.

I can’t lose myself, she thought, clinging hard to the memory of Alistair’s laughter, the caressing touches, the laughs shared, the loving look in his beautiful eyes.

“Tell us what the Archdemon wants!” They’d yell at her. “Tell us where it is!” And no amount of ‘I don’t know’s sobbed from bloodied lips did anything to convince them to convince them of her innocence. Perhaps because she was not innocent, they sensed it on her like a plague upon a diseased man. 

"Please," she hissed, her tongue dry and leaden in her mouth. "Just kill me."

"Not yet," said Warden Forrest, a dedicated man, younger and more easily influenced than Graham. "You think we’re monsters? We’re protecting the realm. Every day, we face an enemy that wants to eradicate us. It’s not personal; it’s survival. I lost brothers to creatures like you, and if I have to break you to keep my people safe, then so be it." He paused, a muscle in his jaw twitching. "You still haven't told us about the Calling. What has the Archdemon promised you?"

Gwen shook her head weakly. "Nothing. There are no promises with the Calling, only death."

Forrest grabbed Gwen's maimed hand, squeezing the raw flesh where her fingers had been. Gwen cried out, writhing against her restraints.

"You'll break eventually," Forrest said coldly. "They all do."

And it continued, and she didn’t break, for she had hidden nothing except Alistair’s identity, and they had no way of prying his title from her lips. Even when she started coughing up black, thick blood, her lungs screaming in protest, she remained strong.

Weeks later, Warden Graham made his way down to her cell, his heavy steps echoing off the cold stone walls as he approached her. She longed to shrink away from him, wanting to hide her weak and broken body from his harsh gaze. But she was trapped, her limbs weighed down by chains that dug into her skin. Her arms hung limply at her sides, numbness creeping through them. Her body throbbed, and pain flared through her like an old friend. It felt like returning home after a long time away only to find everything changed, familiar, but entirely different. 

He crouched in front of her, her knees aching, her jaw hanging unhinged, drool falling from her gaping maw. It had popped out some time ago, but they’d only laughed, letting it hang, and she’d been unable to put it back. She’d never felt less human in her entire life. 

And he refused to give her a break. 

A cruel smile twisted his oafish features, and she struggled to hold her head up, to glare at him with as much acid as he deserved. 

“I wonder what your lover would think of you now,” he pitched his voice low. All the other wardens had left, she’d lost the shiny intrigue of a new prisoner and they had more interesting people to torture, judging by the screams that echoed down the hall. 

She could do nothing but stare, her jaw clicking as she tried and failed to return it to its proper place. 

He chuckled humourlessly, patting her cheek with a meaty hand and sending pain shooting across her skull. She groaned weakly, coughing up more of her thick blood. 

He jumped back with a curse, a sneer tugging at his thin lips. She would have laughed if she had the energy, though it still warmed the vindictive part of her heart to see him so disgusted by her. 

“To think, a thing like you could have a man like him so wrapped around your finger.” Dread pooled low in her stomach, the gloat in his eyes had her panicked. “Tell me, how did you manage to enchant the King of Ferelden?”

Kicking her in the stomach would have hurt less. She couldn't suppress the horrified moan that escaped her throat, her body lurching forward as though that would do anything to stop this. Finally, her presence in his life put him at risk, just like she always knew it would. 

“Wouldn’t it just be something if these letters were to get out? Your poor little king would be under quite the intense scrutiny, if they didn’t remove him first for his affair with a Darkspawn bitch,” he spat. “But I’m not a man without reason. Tell me what you know about the Calling and I promise no one else will find out about your precious little Alistair.”

His rough, calloused hands gripped her jaw tightly, forcing it back into place with a sickening crack. The sound echoed through the air, causing her mind to go blank from the pain. But even as she fought to stay conscious, the shock of his reveal flooded her body with adrenaline, giving her the strength to endure the agony.

Testing her jaw and finding that it clicked irritably, she spoke for the first time in weeks. 

“Fuck. You. I don’t know anything.”

He shook his head, giving her a falsely patient smile. “He should have known better than to get involved with someone so heartless. It makes one wonder about his capacity to rule, if he cannot do something so simple as pick out a suitable woman.” 

She bared her sharp teeth in a snarl, rage alight in her eyes. “Alistair has nothing to do with this, leave him alone.”

“Just like you did?” He shot back, making her recoil. “He did a pretty good job of hiding who he is, there was only one letter in the entire bunch that gave it away, quite clearly, I might add. You really did a number on him. Would you like to hear how terribly you wounded Ferelden’s King?”

No, she did not. But as she opened her mouth to tell him as much, her jaw decided that it no longer enjoyed this arrangement, and popped back out with a wet crunch. Her stomach lurched, rolling with nausea.

“Since you’re in no space to refuse, I’ll just assume that you would have said yes.” 

Gwen strained against the chains as they dug into her flesh, panic filling her tired eyes. But he did not care, he had already fished the letter from his pouch. And when he began reading, his voice pitched in that mocking falsetto that sounded nothing like the man she loved, Gwen wanted nothing more than for all of this to come to a swift end. 

“To the woman who left and shattered my heart,

Well, congratulations. You’ve done it. You’ve outwitted a king. Though, in fairness, that’s not saying much when the king in question is me.”

“First off, let me just say: bravo. You’ve pulled off the greatest vanishing act in history, on the morning of my coronation no less. The whole kingdom was watching me, but I was only looking for you. I swear, I must have checked under every blanket, behind every curtain, even considered that you might have shrunk yourself down and hidden in my boot - because, let’s face it, even that would be less absurd than you leaving without a word.”

“Sorry if this letter’s a bit sloppy. It’s hard to write when the room’s spinning, but that might just be the whiskey. Or the fact that my heart’s been ripped out and stomped on by a ghost. Your ghost, to be exact. You know, it’s really hard to look regal when you’re crying into your royal robes. They don’t tell you that part in the training.”

“Anyway. Where was I? Right. You. Gone. And me. Here. Alone. You know, I thought being king would be the hardest thing I’d ever do. Turns out, it’s not even close. The hardest thing I’ve ever done is trying to breathe without you. And, hey, I’m failing at that too. I’m starting to think I’m just bad at everything.”

“But seriously… why? Why did you leave? Was it something I said? Or was it something I didn’t say? Because I can think of about a thousand things I should have told you, but I always thought we had time. Stupid me, right? It’s been four years and I still can’t figure it out.”

“I keep thinking you’ll walk back in and tell me this was all a mistake, that you just got lost on your way to the coronation or something. Even if you told me you left because you couldn’t stand my face anymore, at least I’d know. But you just… disappeared. Poof. Gone. Like you were never even here.”

“But you were. And that’s the worst part. I can still feel you, even though you’re not here. You’re everywhere and nowhere, and I’m just… well, I’m just here. Sitting on this stupid throne, with a heart full of love that has nowhere to go. So I’m sending it to you, because it’s yours, whether you want it or not.”

“Forever your fool, Alistair.”

Gwen felt like her organs had been scooped out and tossed across the floor. Her breath wheezed in her chest, and after so long holding back her damned tears, they leaked from her bloodshot eyes, mixing with the saliva from her hanging mouth and plinking quietly against the stone beneath her. Graham sounded nothing like Alistair, but by the Maker could she hear his voice saying those words, they were just so him. She’d been a coward, leaving without saying a word, but she’d known she never would have been able to had she looked into his loving gaze and broken his heart. And she had, broken his heart - shattered it, as he’d put it - and her own in the process. She’d known it would hurt him, but she’d always thought that eventually, he’d realize he was better off without her. 

Instead, he wallowed in self-pity and wrote her a drunken letter. She deserved this punishment for what she’d done, but did he have to be dragged into it too? Had he not suffered enough because of her? A warning pulsed in her chest: what if she had made a mistake? What if she could have fought for him, for them?

He snorted, “Pathetic.” Graham stood, cracking his knees as he stretched and stood up. “I’ll let you sit with that one. You’ve got a week, and then the whole of Thedas will know of our King’s proclivities. If you care about him, which judging by that look on your face you do, you’ll reconsider your stance.” 

And he left her, in pain, alone, and terrified - though not for herself. 

She’d never truly wished to die before, but with her death inevitably in her near future, she prayed for an end to this torture, no matter what that looked like. Anything would be better than this. But the Gods were not listening, or if they were, they must be revelling in her pain. They’d never let her have a break before, why would they allow it now?

“Get up,” a man’s voice hissed in the dark, though Gwen did not know how much time had passed since Graham had left, the voice was distinctly not his. Her body would not comply, nor would her jaw return to its proper place to allow her to tell the man she couldn’t. It didn’t matter, he’d find out soon and subject her to further agony. The jingling of metal keys in the lock of her cell door reached her ears and she braced herself for a swift kick to her already broken ribs.

But it never came. Instead, a sudden lightness flooded through her limbs and neck, the familiar weight of metal clanging to the ground as she was released from her shackles. Had they deemed her too weak to fight back?

“Quickly, we don’t have much time.” Hands touched her jaw with a gentleness she hadn’t thought she’d ever feel again. With slow movements, he lifted the hanging half of her face, and pressed it back into place. It hurt, but the pain was short-lived, replaced by relief as the weight of her jaw no longer pulled on her skin. An arm reached under her shoulders and she groaned at the movement. Her vision swam as she tried to focus on the man crouching above her. Moonlight reflected off his pale skin, his face hidden in shadows, but his strong and prominent mustache was difficult to mistake. She hadn’t worked with him much, but she had met him a handful of times before. 

“Stroud?” She croaked as she remembered his name, her brows furrowing with a wince as her raw throat burned from all her screaming. 

“I’m sorry it took me this long to reach you, but they already distrust me, perhaps it wasn’t wise to be so vocally against their plans to turn each other into abominations.” He hefted her up, bearing all of her weight, an arm wrapped around her waist, her arm flopping uselessly around his shoulders, her head lolling to the side before she was able to control it into a semi-upright position. 

“What?” Her mouth felt like it was full of cotton. How many more teeth had fallen out? 

He pulled her along until her legs caught up with them, her mind still struggling to comprehend as she limped along. “I’m getting you out of here.”

Hallucinations were new, but she supposed it was nice to have a small break from her reality. 

The bodies of unconscious guards littered the halls, their forms illuminated by the torches bracketed to the walls. For a hallucination, Gwen had to admit that this all seemed rather real. But Stroud, a man she barely knew risking everything to rescue her? It didn’t make any sense. She was a monster, monsters don’t deserve to be saved. 

“I have seen my fair share of monsters, and I can assure you that you are not one.” She must have said it aloud, for he took it upon himself to answer. "I know you can’t trust us, but I can’t stay silent while this goes on. We’re meant to protect, not to torment. I have to find a way to help you - even if it means risking my own standing."

She shut her mouth, a retort building at the back of her throat. Now was not the time, best to let herself enjoy this while it lasted. 

They reached the stables and already her little strength was flagging. Two horses had been prepared and remained tethered to a post. Without a word, Stroud helped her up onto a tawny mare, its tail flicking irritably like it knew they were doing something wrong. Soft fur carded through her fingers and for the first time since leaving the cell, she had the sinking feeling that she wasn’t hallucinating after all. 

“Stroud—“ She started, leaning heavily on her horse’s neck, but he cut her off, his eyes darting around. 

“I’m afraid that this is where we must part.” He threw a rope around her middle, tying it with practiced fingers around the horse's neck, just tight enough to keep her on and still allow the animal to breathe. “I will lead them away, you follow the creek until your horse won’t allow it anymore.” He tugged her reins and directed her towards the water, hoof prints surrounding the area would cover up her direction. “Good luck, Gwen. I hope we meet again.” 

“Thank you,” she barely had time to mumble before he hit the back of her horse, sending it galloping into the water. With the last of her strength, she pulled the reigns to get it to stay in the creek as he’d advised, and watched from afar as he yelled, calling all attention to him, before riding into the dark. 

Gwen's body trembled as exhaustion and pain seeped into every inch of her being. As much as she fought against it, the darkness beckoned and her consciousness began to slip away. Her injuries, now exacerbated by the added strain, were taking their toll on her failing body. She closed her eyes and tried to hold on, but the pull was too strong. The world around her grew hazy and distant, fading into a murky blur.

She had managed to put a good distance between herself and the Wardens, but she refused to let her hopes soar too high. She knew all too well the danger of false hope. As she succumbed to the darkness, her mind conjured feelings of comfort; a sword-roughened hand trailing down her sore back, the scent of pine and armour polish, a press of lips against her forehead, a smile that warmed even the coldest parts of her soul. With each breath of fresh air that filled her nostrils, all she could think was at least if she died, she would die free, and finally remove her burden from those she loved. 

Next Chapter

A/N: I wrote Alistair's letter a while ago so I'd mostly forgotten what I'd written, but, uh, I hurt myself on that one. Oof, that poor, poor boy. But don't worry! We don't have too long before we see him again :) Can anyone guess when/where this happens?

Also I PROMISE things only get better from here. Gwen’s got some realizing to do.

[scaralvr]

dendrobiums. scaramouche x gn!reader (angst, no comfort, argument)

prompt #14: "you don't love me, do you?" this is an entry for @versadies writing collab farewell love!!

you had known kunikuzushi for a long time, but not long enough, as it seems he holds secrets to himself he doesn't wish to share with you, his companion, his lover. you believe that upon being cursed with immortality, you've seen it all; the woe and joy that the people around you experience.

though, seeing him distressed and quiet as of late caused your heart to twinge with an inexplicable searing pain. living in a peaceful house isolated within the heavenly fields of inazuma, you found it hard not to feel lonely sometimes, with kunikuzushi being oddly silent.

your kimono fluttered in the light wind that blew, causing the blades of grass to bend under its command. despite your lover's strange nature, you decided to be patient with him, as you always are. vibrant dendrobiums filled the basket you cradled in your arm, planning on gifting them to kunikuzushi who's been cooped up in the house.

a lovely smile adorned your lips akin to vibrant flower petals as you walked back to the house. lately, the air was menacing, as if no one lived in the small cottage you reside in with him. the cottage was perched on a cliff above water, cutting off the bustle of the nation from your peaceful life with him. you close the door behind you and peer into the hallway around the corner.

the door at the end was agape, where you assumed he was laying in bed again. entering the shinshitsu, you greeted him with a, "good evening, kuni." before sitting on the futon, back facing his figure. a few moments of silence passed.

"i picked dendrobiums for you. i know you're not a big fan of flowers but they were blooming so beautifully and... i thought you'd like them." you meekly commented, fingertips grazing against the flower's stem. "kuni-" you turned around and in an instant he was on top of you, pinning you to the futon as the basket of dendrobiums fell to the side, spilling its contents across the floor.

your pupils dilated. his grip on your wrists tightened but you didn't mind it at first; he would never hurt you. "kunikuzushi?" you repeated, in a hushed voice this time. he finally looked into your eyes after what seemed like an eternity.

those electric violet eyes that you've come to love, filled with such hatred.

"do not fool me. why are you here?" kunikuzushi interrogated, teeth gritting together. "just to love and abandon me, is that it? are you staying longer for the pleasure in knowing how much it will hurt when you finally leave?" tears released from his angry glare that landed on your cheek. "i'm here because i love you." you simply replied.

kunikuzushi clenched his jaw. "i said, don't lie." his nails began to dig into the skin of your wrists and at that, you felt your heart rate slightly quicken. "why would i be lying, kunikuzushi?" you breathed out. "you never tell me anything."

at that statement, kunikuzushi's eyes widened. "what do you- what do you mean?" he asked, his grasp loosening but refusing to release. "do you doubt me that much?" you queried with a trembling voice, a tear slipping from your eye and falling onto the futon.

"what happened to you, kunikuzushi? what did they do to you?"

"shut up. you don't know what you're talking about." he whispered, more tears beginning to fall from his eyes. he let go and backed away from you as you sat up, following him out of the room. "you need to tell me something! anything!-" kunikuzushi ignored your protests and covered his ears, "you wouldn't understand. you never understand!"

you paused, "you've never touched me once, don't you know?" he stopped in his tracks. "you never look at me. you haven't done a single thing since we began this hell of a relationship where we promised we'd give each other the affection we never had!" you panted, voice straining to keep a loud volume.

you were afraid he would run away from your inquiries again, from letting you know why he's so distant after years of being with you. that's when you realized, there was only one possibility left.

"you don't love me do you?"

he visibly tensed up. your eyes filled to the brim with more tears bound to escape. all he has to do is say those three words you never heard him tell you before, and you'll be fine. you'll continue to live under the same roof with your lover, who may not tell you everything, but still adores you.

if only that were the case for poor you. poor you, who was victim to the hurtful words he spouted at you, telling you that you're right, he doesn't love you. he supposes he just used you as some sort of mental stability from the people he's met in the past. he supposes that he considered none of this real from the very beginning.

you stood there, hands by your sides as hot tears continuously poured down your face with your mouth slightly agape. oh, the truth hurts, doesn't it?

"love you? i absolutely loathe you, (y/n)." kunikuzushi finished off, shoulders rising and falling with each heavy exhale he took.

a little later, kunikuzushi took a walk to clear his mind. his half-lidded hues flitted across inazuma's heavenly welkin, a gut-wrenching feeling weighing within him. the sun was beginning to set, and he comes to a conclusion. he should learn to let go of the past by now and he'll start with you. you, who have been nothing but patient and gentle with him, you, who never left despite the cold shoulder he gave.

yes, it's always been you. you're the source of his happiness, the reason he wishes to arise to another morning. kunikuzushi feels guilty for what he said earlier and decides to make it up to you by picking dendrobiums, much like the ones you gifted him earlier that he so rudely threw away.

with a hopeful smile gracing his features, he walks through the grass to pick very specific dendrobiums all the while making sure they were perfect from top to bottom, fit for his lover.

kunikuzushi's hands were soiled with the dirt from the ground yet he didn't mind, just as long as he had you waiting for him at home. he sighs out with a grin, rushing to the front door. as he opens it, a strange thought settles in the back of his mind.

the aura seemed a little emptier than usual, but he shrugged it off as the fact that the two of you left off at a bad mood. kunikuzushi was more than ready to apologize, his smile faltering to a smaller one as he realizes you'd probably be mad at him, though he'd understand.

because it doesn't matter, because you'll still stay. to think that you'll be the first person that doesn't betray him still takes him aback sometimes and now, he's ready to accept it.

"my love, i've returned." the nickname sounds a little odd at first, rolling off of his tongue; kunikuzushi hasn't called you an endearment like that, ever. he rounds a corner and makes his way down the hall to the shinshitsu. when he slides the shoji doors open, he drops his flowers but quickly picks them back up.

"(y-y/n)?" he stutters out, gaze anxiously darting about the room as he searches for your presence. how long has he been out for? maybe one, two hours? where could you have gone in all that time? this is when he begins to panic.

kunikuzushi leaves the room and searches all over the house. "(y/n)!" he calls again in a more desperate voice. not now, not yet. he runs outside, panting as he tries to get to the city. stay, for just a little bit longer, he pleads within his mind, hoping to catch sight of you.

you promised...

dodging past hordes of people, he catches a glimpse of you at the docks. kunikuzushi's eyes grow wide in realization. he recollects himself and manages to escape the crowd. his hand reaches for your figure.

"excuse me?"

"huh?" you look up at the man before you who called. "o-oh, nevermind. i thought i saw someone." he stammered, rubbing his neck. you nod your head and enter the boat where you cross paths with your close friend, beidou.

you can see the visible frown on her lips. "you sure you wanna' leave, kid? i mean, it's great you want to continue traveling with the crux again like you used to, but-" you stop her short, "it's alright, beidou. but i appreciate your concern."

you sigh through your nose, giving inazuma a sorrow glance. you'll never forget the lovely puppet you met. the lovely, yet misunderstood puppet.

and that very puppet you were thinking of couldn't do it. he stayed behind a wall, akin to a coward. would things have ended differently if he learned to control his emotions? would you still be in the cottage embracing him in your arms?

he clutches the dendrobiums in his hands, his rigid nails digging into the stems as he thinks about all of these possibilities. kunikuzushi returns to the home he once shared with you with a heavy heart.

upon arrival, he drops the flowers. tears start pouring and in just a few moments, does he start crying like he did those countless nights and for more to come now that you've realized what he truly is.

nothing but a ghastly monster that takes your kindness for granted.

kunikuzushi cries and cries, his body failing him as he falls to his knees. the poor puppet's tears land onto the withering dendrobiums as night covers the whole of inazuma. "i didn't mean it, i didn't," he sobs, recalling the way you looked so harmed by his words.

"i didn't mean anything, i'm sorry," he apologizes to no one in particular, but the wind replies, for it tousles his hair and causes his face to dry, only for more tears to continue dripping. kunikuzushi supposes this is the way it was always going to be like. none of those betrayals were really his fault now, were they?

it's because he can't handle abandonment, and all he wants is to be loved. when he enters the empty bedroom and lays onto the futon, eyes sore from crying, he thinks about a specific time.

the time when you loved him, and always fought for his attention.

"kuni, look!" you presented him a dendrobium, "isn't it pretty? it's pretty just like you!" you happily chirped, walking by his side. kunikuzushi stayed silent as he looked around; anywhere but your gaze. you avoided a frown from placing itself on your lips.

"h-hey, what do you think of nature? it's fascinating, isn't it?" you asked, tilting your head as an attempt to view his expression. blank.

kunikuzushi hisses at the memory, resenting himself for constantly ignoring your obvious yet somewhat subtle acts of affection. fresh tears peek at the corner of his eyes.

"kuni, i bought you dango from the market! i don't know if you like it, but you can always try!"

"i don't."

you stammer, "h-huh?" kunikuzushi emphasizes, "i don't like desserts. they rot the teeth." he mumbled the end of the sentence and your shoulders sink, "oh, i see. well, that's perfectly reasonable!" you laugh it off with that signature smile of yours.

kunikuzushi closes his eyes. he'd do anything to go back to that moment. he would've told you that it was his favourite thing in the world to eat; dango. kunikuzushi wishes he didn't pretend he never saw the desserts that rotted in the trash that you bought or made just for him.

at that, he begins to wonder what your baking tasted like. you often did it for him...

"kuni? i only realized yesterday that, um, you never told me your birthday and i feel a bit bad for not noticing sooner. so i made you a cake to make up for all the ones i missed!" you said with a smile. all of the hope in your eyes dissipates when he looks at you in disgust.

kunikuzushi sighed, "eat it yourself. don't you ever listen to what i say? i hate sweets."

the next morning, a dark cloud hangs above the puppet's head. he believes he has no purpose without you. he tends to try and convince himself that he resents you, but can never bring himself to do it when he knows the truth he hides deep down.

when he joins the fatui and becomes scaramouche, there are only two reasons he continues to push on further. to steal the gnosis for a heart of his own so he may finally apply to love you again.

but what use is it when you've already moved on?

© scaralvr.

[katedrakeohd]

Cordonia 1885

[Masterlist]

Previously on Cordonia 1885 - After being rescued from the bloody prison of his hotel room, Drake has been taken to the safe haven of Mary's family home.

But how safe is he really?

Cast of Cordonian characters: Drake Walker, Bastien Lykel and Bloody Mary (OC)

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Series Notes / Warnings :

Major character death, blood, vampirism, graphic descriptions of corpses, angst, swearing, content of a sexual nature, animal death. -

(sorry folks this isn't a romantic comedy)

Word count: 2080

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- Chapter Four -

The stair treads creak under their feet as they go up. The smell of decay is thicker up here, and it makes Drake's eyes water. He was starting to suspect that there was a dead body, or bodies in the house. At the top of the stairs there are four doors, all ajar except for one.

Drake covers his mouth and nose with his bent elbow, muffling his voice.

“M – Mary? Seriously don't you smell that? Is there something or someone dead in this house? You said that your father died, but what happened to your mother?”

Mary doesn't answer at first and just leads Drake to a bedroom at the end of the hall, “Mother and I exchanged letters monthly while I was working for the Beaumonts, but two months ago her letters stopped. She had mentioned an illness, and doctor visits.”

“Were you able to come see her before she..passed?”

“Just once, and she had become so sick that she had taken to her bed to await her end.”

“Is she still here?”

“N..no,” she lied.

Before Drake can respond, Mary grabs him by the elbow and pulls him into her father's room.

The bedroom contains a large wooden bed, wash stand with basin and mirror, and a dresser. In the corner a coat rack is wearing a wool overcoat similar to Drake's. A pair of men's leather shoes sit on the floor at the base of the rack. A bar of shaving soap and a straight razor sit next to the wash basin. Mary lights the candles on the dresser, near the wash stand, as well as one on the windowsill.

Drake sits on the end of the bed and watches her prepare the room. She opens dresser drawers and shows him the contents, “Father was a tall man, but not too tall, and wasn't an overeater. His clothes should fit you.”

Drake looks around the room again, appreciating how neatly it's been kept. Mary takes off Drake's wool coat and hangs it on the rack next to her Father's. When she walks back over to stand in front of him, he notices the smeared dark stains on her undergarments for the first time. But none of the bloody areas were fresh, or spreading, so her clothes weren't hiding any wounds.

He looks down at the blood on his own hands, and clothing. “The blood all over the hotel mattress wasn't yours was it?”

Mary shakes her head slowly and steps over closer to unbutton his shirt. “Definitely not mine.”

Her fingers feel cool against his skin as she slides the shirt down off of his shoulders, letting it fall down his arms and pool around his waist.

“But..but I didn't find any cuts on me either.” He says nervously, as she unbuttons his trousers.

Mary puts her hand on his neck and brushes her thumb across the itchy welt below his ear, making him shiver and his skin pimple with goosebumps.

She leans in and kisses his mouth, continuing to rub gently at the spot on his neck. When he leans forward to kiss her back, she pulls back and then shifts her mouth to his ear, whispering, “I didn't cut you Drake. I bit you.”

Drake recoils at her cool breath on his skin, scrambling backward on the bed, his arms tangling in the sleeves of his shirt as it gets trapped beneath him.

“Y- you bit me? Hard enough to make me bleed!?”

Mary unties the ribbons at the bodice of her undershirt and then slides down the waistband of her underpants, letting her clothes drop to the floor. Drake watches her climb naked onto the bed after him, her eyes looking darker than they did before. But it's not passion he sees, but a hunger of a different kind. The mark on his neck starts to tingle and the itching in his groin flares to life when he sees her lick her lips.

Mary straddles his lap, and traps his forearms by his sides. Drake is shocked at how incredibly strong she is for someone so slightly built. He looks up at her with panic in his eyes as her lips spread into a sharp toothed smile. He sucks in a breath and his mouth drops open.

“Sssh, screaming won't help you one bit. There's nobody to hear you.”

“But..but..Bas..Bastien?” he stammers, twisting his shoulders up off the bed and trying to break free. “What in the hell are you?”

Mary releases his arms and strokes her fingers down the sides of his neck and along the contours of his shoulders and chest, smiling at the way he tries to swallow down his mixture of fear and desire. His eyes travel down her naked body, and he tries to wet his lips though his mouth has gone dry.

Mary tips her head back and laughs, “We're vampires, Drake.”

“You struggled too much the first time I bit your neck and it made me waste so much of your blood. And when I bit you here,” Mary rocks her hips against his groin, causing Drake to gasp at his body’s response. “You liked it so much you wouldn't stay still so I could finish what I started. You have a remarkable tolerance for alcohol, and I was expecting you to be more drunk while I fed from you.”

Drake is speechless as he struggled to understand what he was being told. His attempts to buck her off are halted by the viselike clamp of her thighs. She shakes her head and clucks her tongue to scold him.

“Struggling is just going to bruise your beautiful skin and exhaust you, and I want you to be awake for this.”

“Awake..for w-what?” he protests, as she leans forward and covers his body with hers.

“We want to make you one of us.” she purrs seductively, as she nuzzles his ear.

Laying chest to chest, Mary can feel his heart thumping against his ribs.

“Try to relax, Drake. Pretend we're just lovers cuddling after sex,” she whispers, turning his head to the side to expose his neck.

“I..I can't move. And this hardly feels like cuddling.” Drake whimpers as he feels her tongue touch his skin.

Close your eyes, and try to calm down. The faster your heart beats, the quicker you'll bleed out. I just want another taste of you. You're so damn delicious.

Drake blinks rapidly in surprise when he hears her soothing voice in his head. “How..how do you do that?” he whispers.

It's one of my gifts, now sssh. Just listen to the sound of my voice and relax a little. The hammering of your heart is deafening. Just breathe, and you might even enjoy this.

“Enjoy..wh- ,” but his words are cut off when he feels the pinch of her fangs and the suction of her lips against his skin.

Mmm, so delicious. Just breathe and relax. I want you docile, not dead.

Drake feels an overwhelming dizziness and fatigue numb his senses and limbs. It was like being heavily intoxicated and mildly aroused at the same time. When he tries to open his eyes he can't.

A sensuous moan resonates out of Mary's throat and Drake is transported back to a few hours ago and their romp in the hotel room. As he slips into unconsciousness he recalls mental flashes of soft perfumed skin and impossibly red lips being pressed against him. His heart skips and falters in its rhythm and his last thought is Mary..please stop.

“Mary, stop!” Bastien's voice booms out as his tall figure fills the doorway.

Sitting back, Mary wipes at the trickle of blood running down her chin and glares in Bastien's direction for the interruption. When Bastien takes a menacing lunge forward, meaning to grab for her, Mary leaps from Drake's unconscious body and scrambles over to the other side of the bed.

She makes no move to cover herself as she rushes around the corner and tries to push Bastien back out of the room.

He easily sidestepped her attack and spun around to catch her by the wrist before she can regain her balance and strike again.

“Stop it, you fool!” he warns, “I'm stronger than you and can snap you like a twig.”

Mary snarls at him, and tries to claw at his eyes, but he grabs her arm and forces her down onto the floor on her knees. He tightens his grip on her and crisscrosses her wrists up under her throat to subdue her. “I said stop!”

Mary looks up at him with anger and contempt in her eyes, but stops struggling.

“I want him for myself! Show me how to make him mine.” she wails.

Bastien shakes his head, “No, I told you to get him cleaned up and dressed, not to finish him off.”

Mary sags down onto the floor in defeat and Bastien lets her go. She turns away from his disapproving, piercing gaze and looks over to Drake's prone body on the bed.

Bastien grabs the sleep shirt hanging on the back of the bedroom door and tosses it at her. “Cover yourself for Christ's sake! He's still a mortal man and your nakedness is too much of a distraction. You were a decent chamber maid once, now do what I ask. Go prepare him a bath. I'll pick him out some clothes and then revive him, if it's not too late.”

Mary sighs, getting up from the floor and pulling the oversized sleepwear over her head. It was hardly as elegant as her own frilly undergarments, but at least she wouldn't be performing her chore naked.

“Are you forgetting that I was fired because of my poor housemaid skills?”

“No, you were fired because you were a mistress who couldn't keep her mouth shut.” Bastien snaps back, as he pours water from the pitcher into the wash basin. “Now, go. Before I get more angry.”

She turns to give Bastien a dirty look before she leaves, but his attention is already taken by rummaging through her father's dresser for clothing.

Bastien pulls a simple button down cotton shirt, underpants and a pair of wool trousers, along with a set of braces to hold them up. The clothes were in decent condition despite being of lower quality. He had to remind himself that this was the home of a commoner and not to expect a Noble’s finery. He lays out the clothes on the top of the dresser and then sighs with dismay at the horrible state of Drake's shaggy beard and hair. Both were matted with blood and in desperate need of a trim.

Thankfully there's a razor and soap handy because the poor bastard needs a shave.

Grasping Drake's ankles he drags him down to the end of the bed and removes his trousers.

My goodness, he's hairy everywhere it seems.

Balling up his smelly and worn out trousers into a ball he tosses them to the corner. Cocking his head to the side he smirks with disapproval at the bites Mary had made on the inside of his thigh.

Amateur. If her fangs had torn a bigger hole he would have bled out his whole supply in seconds. No wonder the hotel bed was in such a foul mess when we found him.

She had stupidly left fang Mark’s on his penis too. Poor guy must have been in a state of itchy, firey agony.

With a sigh, Bastien tucks his fingers in the junction of Drake's thigh and groin to test for a pulse. He's pleased to detect a faint throb of life under the skin amid the bloody mess of his pubic hair. Oh good, she didn't totally kill him…yet.

Pulling him upright, he relieves Drake of his shirt, and then repositions him on the bed so that he can give him a shave.

..

When Mary returns to tell Bastien that the bath was ready, she's pleased to see Drake with a clean face and a handsome moustache on his lip. His hair has also been dampened and combed into place.

“He's starting to look better,” she grins as she appreciates his nakedness. “Do we have to put clothes back on him?”

Bastien sighs, “Yes, Mary. Is the bath ready and the fire stoked?”

Mary nods.

“Good. Now while I carry him downstairs I want you to bring along his clothes.”

::

tagging:

@texaskitten30 @janezillow @hopefulmoonobject @dcbbw @pedudley @ravenpuff02 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @indiacater @kingliam2019 @walkerswhiskeygirl @bobasheebaby @emceesynonymroll @kimmiedoo5 @sirbeepsalot @xxrainbow-princessxx @losingbraincellseveryday

[thiamlife]

Hi! ❤ First of all I want to say that I really love your blog and your work! I don't know if you accept requests, but if you do, I would love to request a Thiam story based on this song "Romantic" from Stanaj (the slow version) when I heard it I thought about them! If you can't do it, it's okay 😊 Thank you very much! I hope you have a wonderful day ❤

Request: Thiam story based on thissong “Romantic” from Stanaj

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Theo had been lying to him. For four months, he had beensneaking out of the Geyer household and doing god knows what with god knowswho. He usually came back around 3 or 4 in the morning reeking of sweat and cigarettes.He didn’t admit it but the thought of Theo having sex with someone other thanhim, was enough to break his little angry heart every time he let his mind gothere. And every time Liam would question him about it, the elusive chimerawould just smirk and come up with some way to taunt him. HE WAS LOSING HIS GODDAMNED MIND.

Tonight had been no different, except this time Liam was inthe guest room waiting for him when he climbed the tree outside of the windowand swung in landing with a soft thud.

“You’re up late.” Theo commented, passing him on the way tothe shower. Liam quickly followed Theo into his room and was about to followhim into his bathroom but Theo shut the door in his face.

“Youknow why I am.” He replied. He let his back fallagainst the door as he heard the water start to run, then slowly slid down sohe was sitting on the floor. He leaned his head back and let it hit the door.

 He heard Theo sigh and listened for any alteration in hisheartbeat but found none. “I don’t knowwhy.” He said and Liam growled, he swore he could hear Theo chuckle.Asshole knew exactly what he was doing to his sanity.

 “Theo.” He snarled in warning, letting the boy in hisbathroom know how close he was to getting really angry. Theo turned the showeroff and Liam fell backwards when the door was suddenly yanked open, revealing adripping wet Theo wearing nothing but a white towel wrapped extremely low onhis hips. Liam quickly righted himself and was now standing in front of themouthwatering chimera.

 “If you really want to know that bad then just follow me.”Theo said with a smirk before he pushed passed Liam, rubbing against him in away that couldn’t be accidental… or could it… Liam would have to dissect itlater, he turned on his heels to once again trail behind Theo.

 “I’ve tried,” he growled, “you ditched me… every time.” Theo laughedas he shut his door in his face again only his time Liam opened it and ploppedon Theo’s bed earning him an eye roll.

 “I know. It just, well, itgets better every time. My favorite is when you start threatening bodilyharm under your breath as if I can’t hear it.” Theo was moving about his roomstill in the sinful towel when he responded. But soon he was pulling on a freshpair of boxers and a pair of sweats went on over them.

 He pushed Liam over and climbed under the thin covers of theguest bed that was now technically Theo’s. That’s the first thing Liam hadlearned about Theo after he moved in, he wasn’t one for lots of blankets.Probably due to how hot he got during a nightmare, adding a heavy cover onlymade it worse. Liam had run in the room many times to find Theo tangled andnearly suffocating in the duvet. So the two of them decided it would be betterif Theo just stuck to thin sheets and throw blankets.

 “If you’re going to stay in here please at least lay down andclose your eyes, I can’t sleep while you’re staring at me. Its late, I’m tired,and you have school in the morning.” Theo groggily whispered.

 Liam laid down in the cramped space between Theo and thewall, huffing as if this was a huge inconvenience to him, when really he lovedit when Theo asked him to sleep in his bed or would show up by the side of hislooking like a lost puppy. It didn’t happen very often, but when it did Liammade the most of it. Even his parents seemed to know that something hadhappened whenever they found the two of them in the same bed. Usually it meantthat they would get Theo’s favorite for breakfast, blueberry pancakes and bacon,in the morning.

 Liam had to cover up the screams from Theo at first but hisdad caught on pretty quickly. Dr. Geyer understood PTSD and night terrors sothat’s what they told him they were. He never pried for the reason behind thedreams, just always made sure the following morning was calm and pleasant forTheo.

 “Liam, I can literally hear your brain thinking. Shut it off.”Theo said crankily. He huffed again but pulled the sheets away from Theo beforesliding under them and pulling them tightly around him. Theo muttered “blankethog” before soft snores were pouring out of his mouth. Now that Theo was asleepLiam let himself snuggle closer, feeling the warmth from his bare upper halfseep into him.

 “If you want to spoon me just do it already, we both know youwon’t fall asleep until you do.”

 Liam sputtered trying to come up with something to say. “I…uh…um…well… I thought you were sleeping!”

 Theo sighed again and pulled Liam’s arms around him and burrowedback against him. “You always do.” He mumbled lightly.

 If Theo was awake every time, then that meant that he knew Liamspooned him. He knew that sometimes Liam ran his fingers through his hair, and thatsometimes he would kiss the back of his shoulder before drifting off to sleep.Oh god, he was so embarrassed. He went to pull away so he could run to his roomand hide but Theo’s hands kept him in place.

 “Sleep baby wolf.” He commanded. And he didn’t really have achoice because Theo currently had a death grip on his arm, his claws evendigging in daring him to try and move. So for once, Liam fell asleep with the knowledgethat he wouldn’t have to detangle himself from Theo before the chimera woke upand it was the most peaceful 3 hour sleep he had ever had.

 True to the norm Liam woke up to the smell of pancake batterand bacon. They had somehow shifted in sleep to where Theo was on his back onearm wrapped around Liam, who had been using his chest as a pillow. He slowlypicked his head up only to have Theo push it back down and angrily murmur to goback to sleep.

 “Guess I’ll just have to eat your portion of pancakes then.”Theo bolted upright knocking Liam off him and threw on the first shirt he saw.Theo was downstairs and Liam could hear the fork hitting the plate before heeven reached his room to put his clothes on for school. That chimera and hisfucking pancakes, he shook his head and snorted. He didn’t have time to thinkabout their sleeping arrangement from last night, he was late per usual.

 When he got home from school and Theo was nowhere to be foundthe anxiety and anger from the previous night returned and he stomped up to hisroom. He almost missed the small piece of paper waiting for him on his bed, buthe caught Theo’s scent and his eyes zeroed in on the bed where the smell wascoming from, finding the note sitting on his pillow.

 He picked it up and immediately noticed Theo’s messyhandwriting.

So glad that I found you. I’m just trying to be somebody. Youmake me want to act different.If you want to know where I’ve beengoing, come to the address on the back of this paper at 8.-T

Liam looked at the clock and groaned, it was only 3:30. Whatin the hell was he supposed to do for the next 4.5 hours? He cleaned his room,made a snack, practiced some lacrosse shots on the net out back, and showered.When the clock read 5:45 he growled in annoyance right before the doorbellrang. Too irritated to check who it was before opening the door he wassurprised to find Mason and Corey standing there grinning like fools.

 “Theo texted and said you might need a distraction.” Masonsaid giddily and Corey just nodded.

 “He told you what he’s been doing hasn’t he?” He guessed.

 “Yep, and we’re totally coming with you.” Corey confirmed asthey both walked in to his house. They actually turned out to be the perfect pastime,making jokes and playing videos games. Before he knew it, it was time to go andMason was driving the three of them downtown.

 When they pulled up outside of an older club Liam wasconfused. But judging by how quickly Mason parked and he and Corey got out ofthe car he figured they knew where they were going.

 A band called “Drag Me From Hell” was playing tonight andLiam wasn’t sure if he was intrigued or scared. Between the Dread Doctors andTheo, the wild hunt, The Beast, The Anuk-Ite, and the hunters he had had enoughof hell for one lifetime. But nonetheless was dragged inside after receiving ahandstamp from the bouncer marking him as under 21.

 The three of them joined the small crowd gathered towards thefront of the stage and Liam couldn’t help but search around for Theo. Thisplace definitely smelled like the cigarettes Theo came home smelling like. Didhe work here or something? Was he trying to show Liam that he had gotten a job?Although, he didn’t understand why Theo would want to hide that. And he didn’trealize how wrong he was until the band was announced and Theo walked out onstage.

 Mason and Corey cheered next to him but he couldn’t take hiseyes off the chimera front and center. He was wearing black jeans that fit wellbut weren’t skinny jeans, a tight black t-shirt and a black beanie. When hishoneyed voice sounded over the speakers Liam thought he was dead. Yepdefinitely dead, this was a dream. That definitely explained why Theo let himsleep on top of him this morning.

 “Hi I’m Theo and we’re Drag Me From Hell.” A couple girls tothe right of him screamed and threw their bras on stage causing Corey and Masonto bust out laughing from the menacing growl let left his lips. Theo’s eyessnapped to him immediately and smirked.

 “Sorry ladies, but I’m taken. This first song happens to bethe first song I ever wrote, and it’s dedicated to him.” Theo’s eyes lockedwith his as the music started playing and Liam could feel the hot blushcreeping up his face.

 Theo closed his eyes as he let the song take over him.

You say I make you shyI don’t know why?Every time we kissIt gets better every timeUnderneath the lightYou’re shining so brightThe tension in the airYou could cut it with a knifeSee, I’m just tryna be somebodyYou got me in love so deepNo, I don’t got to do these thingsBut you make me,You make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starYou make me wanna act differentI love you for who you areYou make me want to run circles around youSo glad that I found youYou make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starHave you got the time?We could do dinner and wineI could compliment youButthat would take all nightSee, I’m just tryna be somebodyYou got me in love so deepNo, I don’t got to do these thingsBut you make me,You make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starYou make me wanna act differentI love you for who you areYou make me wanna run circles around youSo glad that I found youYou make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starYou make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starYou make me wanna be differentI love you for who you areYou make me wanna do circles around youSo glad I found youI just wanna be a romanticI just wanna be a starYou make me wanna do things I never seem to doNever said those three wordsBut I say ‘em to youYou make me wanna say things I never seem to sayMake me ask, “Why am I always acting thisway?”You make me wanna do things I never seem to doNever said those three wordsBut I say ‘em to youYou make me wanna say things I never seem to sayYou make me ask why the hell I’mActing this wayYou make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a starYou make me wanna act differentI love you for who you areYou make me wanna run circles around youSo glad that I found youYou make me wanna be a romanticYou make me wanna be a star. When thesong finished Theo opened his eyes again to stare at Liam. Corey had teared up halfwaythrough and Mason had put his arm around him at the same time that he clamped ahand on Liam’s shoulder. Liam spent the whole song in disbelief. He had no ideathat Theo had felt this way about him, he always just assumed that his feelingswere unrequited. They locked eyes for a brief moment, silently conveying everythingthat they had never said to one another. But then Theo had to start the nextsong and Liam and his friends stood in the crowd and enjoying the rest of theset.

 Theo hadpulled off his beanie a few songs in, letting the longer strands on top fall downhis forehead into his eyes. After his last song he ran a hand through thesweaty strands, pushing them back, before he said his goodbye to the crowd onceagain catching eyes with Liam before he exited the stage.

 “Alright,we’re gonna head home dude.” Mason said on a yawn. It was approaching midnightand Liam was exhausted as well but he wanted to wait for Theo. The friends saidtheir goodbyes and Liam sat in a booth as he watched drunken patrons stumbleaway from the bar and dance floor. He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleepuntil someone was shaking him.

 Forgettingwhere he was momentarily, he smacked at the hand and grumbled a hopeful fivemore minutes. The person chuckled and pulled at his arm trying to get him wakeup again. When that didn’t work, the guy let out a low growl making Liam shootup ready to defend himself.

 “You arethe true definition of a baby wolf.” Theo said smile on his face. “Let’s gohome, I’m exhausted. SOMEONE wouldn’t let me sleep last night.”

 Liamgrowled back. “Yeah, yeah, maybe you should have been home earlier.” Theointertwined their fingers as he pulled Liam out to his truck behind the club.Liam reveled in the feel of the casual touch, a craving deep inside of him thathe didn’t know was there suddenly felt satisfied.

 The ridehome was quiet and Liam let his thoughts run rampant, even the feeling of Theo’sthumb sliding back and forth over his wasn’t enough to distract him.

“Are wegoing to talk about this.” He asked quietly raising their hands to signal what “This”he was talking about.

 Theosighed tiredly and stopped stroking his thumb over Liam’s hand. “You’re notgood with words and I’m not good with emotions so I figured we could just let,this, whatever it is, happen.” Liam thought over his argument and realized thatTheo was right. Whenever Liam tried to use his words things always came outwrong and he got angry. Theo, when forced to talk about his feelings tended toget violent and cold. So maybe it was just best they didn’t say anything aboutit all.

 “You’reright.” He nodded as they finally pulled up to their dark house.

 “Alwaysam, baby wolf.” He smirked and Liam narrowed his eyes pulling his hand away.

 “We arehowever, going to talk about the fact that you lied to and hid from me for thepast 4 months.”

 “On thatnote… night Liam!” Theo shouted as he raced around to the tree in the backyardthat stood outside of his window.

 “Hey getback here!” Liam yelled as he threw his door open and chased after him.

 He wasn’tfar behind and managed to tackle Theo right before he reached the handle to hisdoor. But then Theo quickly flipped them so he was on top.

 “If youwanted to kiss me little wolf all you had to do was say so.” Theo taunted andLiam was left sputtering again.

 “I… uh…what?” But Theo didn’t respond. He just slowly leaned down and pressed his lipsto Liam’s. It didn’t take long before Liam returned the kiss. It quickly escalated,shirts were gone and canines were sinking into skin leaving marksdistinguishable to other supernaturals.

 Theyboth pulled back for air and Liam couldn’t refrain from saying the words thathad popped into his head after hearing Theo sing for him.

 “I loveyou.” He whispered. Theo raised his head looking deeply in to his eyes beforehe smiled and then hid his face in Liam’s neck, nuzzling his cheek against thesoft skin that he had just marked.

 “I loveyou too little wolf.” He whispered back.

 “Now,about the past 4 months…” Liam started and Theo put his full body weight onhim and pretended to snore. Liam laughed, “Nope you blew your cover on that onelast night.”

 Theohuffed. “Fine, but can we talk about it tomorrow? I’m beat.” He pushed up offLiam and opened the door to the hallway walking across it and in to Liam’sroom.

 “Why areyou going to my room?” He questioned as he slowly got to his feet.

Theolooked over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow. “Your bed is bigger and as muchas I loved being your personal pillow last night, never again. You drool.”

 “Do not.”Liam said with a scowl but climbed in to his bed scooting behind Theo and snakinghis arm around his waist.

 “Do to.”

 “Yousnore.”

 “Youtalk in your sleep.”

 “DO NOT!”

 “Theo,Theo you’re so comfy Theo.” He mocked and Liam took his arm back rolling toface the other side of the room. It didn’t last long though before he was beingpulled back against Theo’s strong body as he snickered. “Oh lighten up babywolf.” They stayed quiet for a while but soon Liam was fidgeting.

 “Comeon, we both know you won’t be able to sleep unless you’re wrapped around me.” Theosaid pulling at him to get him to turn over but he didn’t make any moves tocuddle Theo. Theo sighed, “Okay I won’t be able to sleep either if we’re beingtotally honest.” Liam smiled and snuggled closer to him. They were both asleepin minutes, neither of them waking up to a nightmare for the first time sinceTheo had moved in.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

HI! I hope this is what you were looking for! Pretty pleaselet me know what you think!

XO - K

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The Walking Dead Recap: What You Don't Know Will Hurt You

Psst — can you keep a secret? Yeah, me, neither. So the following recap of Sunday’s episode of The Walking Dead includes two big reveals, one even more surprising than the other, and details the turn of events that seems destined to bring crashing down Rick’s bridge over troubled water. Now that you’ve been forewarned, do you still want to proceed? Read on, then.

‘THANK YOU… FOR YOU’ | After “Warning Signs” began with a zombified Justin rising to join the ranks of the undead, we flashed to the morning after, at which point Rick got up early to leave a fresh-picked tomato fit for the cover of Bon Appetit at what I assume was Carl’s grave (not that Carl could possibly appreciate its magnificence — that was one hot tomato). Upon returning home, Rick thanked Michonne for all of her hard work on the charter and beyond, then, with a twinkle in his eye, asked her to put aside that work. “You want me to stop creating the foundations of a new civilization?” she asked. “I can think of another way to build for the future,” he replied. Yup, they were gonna try to get pregnant. Which, honestly, seemed like a pretty bad idea, considering that at that moment, Maggie and her delivery of food were being held up by Jed and a bunch of hostile Saviors who were out looking for Justin — aaand thinking that maybe “the widow” was behind the string of recent disappearances. Jed even went so far as to steal a tomato. (And seriously, special props to the show’s tomato stylist — those things are gorgeous!) Only moments after the situation was defused by Laura, who I never dreamed I’d kinda like, Maggie spotted down the road — what are the odds? — the walkerized Justin!

Back in Alexandria, all hell was breaking loose. In other words, Rick Grimes was on all fours playing horsey-race down the hallway with Judith as a part of the family fun day that he and Michonne had to promise the moppet to get her to see Siddiq about her cough. Alas, the trio had just begun the reading-The-Wizard-of-Oz portion of their day when word reached Rick that Justin wasn’t just dead, he’d been murdered. Quicker than you could say “panic,” the Saviors at base camp for the bridge project were looking ready to riot. First Alden, then Carol tried to break it up, but that was easier said than done. Jed, clearly Season 9’s answer to Jared, up and dared her to just shoot him already rather than make him wait to get it in the back. In no time, fingers were being pointed at likely suspects. Daryl, for one. “Garbage lady,” for another. For a second, it looked like the Saviors were willing to go through Gabriel to attack Anne. Luckily, that was when Rick rode in to lay down the law. As soon as the crowd dispersed, Rick questioned Gabriel, who insisted that he’d been with his new lover for the duration of the previous evening.

‘I LIED TO HIM… FOR YOU’ | Next, Rick was approached by Alden, who suggested that, if at least a few key Saviors had guns, they wouldn’t be so scared. No dice, so Alden turned to Maggie. “You trust me, don’t you?” he asked. “How about trusting a few other people who’ve made a change?” Ultimately, Rick agreed to think about it — after he solved Justin’s murder. Which, given how much like an arrow wound the deceased’s chest injury looked, he might have already done. “Go ahead,” said Daryl when Rick sidled up for an uncomfortable interrogation. “Ask.” When Rick did just that, Daryl said that he could prove that he was innocent — because “if I’d-a killed him, I’d-a killed him in plain sight.” Again, Rick made his sales pitch, arguing that the future belonged to all of them now. Not Glenn, Daryl pointed out. Not Abraham or Sasha. Cornered, Rick admitted that he’d wanted to slaughter the Saviors, too. “But killing each other when the world already belongs to the dead, it’s not the way, not anymore.” Furthermore, if Daryl would try — just try — to play nice, maybe people could see what was possible. It might even turn out to be one of the best decisions he’d made since “not killing a guy who left your brother on a rooftop to die.”

Meanwhile, Gabriel, feeling conflicted about lying to Rick about being with Anne all night, asked his girlfriend if she’d seen anything when they were apart. “You think I’m hiding something?” she replied. And his silence spoke as large a volume as her answering a question with a question. While that romance was hitting a rough patch, Maggie and Cyndie were among the pairs out looking for walkers in the woods (lest anyone besides Aaron lose an arm to a sneak attack). When they spotted a couple of zombies loitering around, Cyndie revealed that there was a house nearby — she knew because her family had lived in the area before Oceanside — and suggested that maybe the walkers were being drawn to it. Lo and behold, a bunch of the undead were trapped in the residence, and their argh-ing was attracting more of their kind. There wasn’t a whole lot to this, aside from it giving Daryl and Cyndie another chance to bond when he arrived suddenly and saved her from walkers who broke out of the house faster than expected. The real point of the side jaunt was that Daryl’s rescue party shouldn’t have arrived before Bea and Arat’s. (If you could remember who Bea was at this point, good on you!)

‘I JUST WANTED TO END IT BEFORE IT BEGINS’ | Soon, the search party found Bea knocked out but not Arat. Did everybody notice that Bea’s weapon looked like it could have made the same kind of hole in Justin as an arrow? Daryl certainly did. Anyway, since the Savior’s gear was left behind, Maggie deduced that whoever had whacked Bea now had Arat. At a subsequent bigwigs’ powwow, Carol reported that the Saviors thought that Arat was on watch overnight. If the main characters didn’t find her by dawn, Rick would lose his worker bees, and the unfinished bridge would come tumbling down when the waters rose again. Before they set off to look for the missing person, Jerry had an important question: When they found the guilty party, who’d decide their fate? And what about the punishment? “Is it gonna be a Gregory or a Negan?” Later, searching the woods with Rick, Carol admitted that she’d badly wanted to shoot Jed. What’s more, she was sure that the disaster they’d narrowly averted that day wasn’t going to stay, you know, averted. In response, Rick confessed that there was a point in every day when he just wanted to go finish off Negan. “But then I remember everyone we’ve lost… and I know I need to honor them — to build life, not take it, because it’s us or the dead, and every life counts now.”

Searching for Arat with Daryl, Maggie wished that she could see things Rick’s way. She even acknowledged that “what [he’s] doing is right for the future. It’s better for Hershel.” Just then, they found another Savior who’d been offed like Justin, and Columbo — sorry, I mean Daryl — announced, “I know who took Arat.” While the twosome set off like a post-apocalyptic Hardy Boy and Nancy Drew, Anne snuck back to the Heaps. There, she took out a hidden radio and, having spotted the chopper the night before, made a call. “What do you have, an A or a B?” asked the man who replied. “I paid my share,” she insisted. But when it became apparent that that wasn’t going to get her what she wanted — presumably, a ride out of danger? — she asked what it would take. “An A,” the guy answered (and suddenly, I remembered that, when Jadis had held Rick hostage, it had been in a container marked A). No sooner had Anne said she’d have an A tomorrow than Gabriel appeared and demanded the truth. Turned out, she’d been trading people for supplies for the Scavengers. That was what she’d been going to do with Rick and Gabriel. Now, given her spot at the top of the murder-suspects list, she was giving up on the new leaf she’d turned over and wanted out. “There’s another place that’s far from here,” she said, “but if we go together, we can get there.”

‘IT’S OVER’ | Though Gabriel took Anne’s hand, he couldn’t agree to her terms: Don’t tell anyone, and help her with “one small part of the deal.” He’d have to tell Rick. “And all this time,” she said, “I thought you were a B.” With that, she knocked him out. As if trying to have an even worse night than Gabriel, Carol got herself grabbed in the woods by Jed, who held a knife to her throat and threatened to Ginsu her if Rick didn’t hand over his gun. See, the Saviors are “vamoosing out of your little pet project,” he explained, and they needed protection for the trip home. “You do this, there’s no going back,” Rick warned. Trouble was, there had been no going back for Jed and the Saviors once they’d lost Justin (who must have been much more delightful at the Sanctuary than he ever was outside of it). As will happen when a fool threatens Carol, she turned the tables, stabbing Jed with her own knife. “Why not just take me out?” he cried, defeated. “‘Cause every life counts,” Carol spat as if the words left an aftertaste in her mouth.

Finally, Maggie escorted Daryl to the place where Cyndie’d once lived. There, they found Cyndie, Bea and another Oceansider menacing Arat — not without cause. The Saviors had murdered Cyndie’s mother, her 11-year-old brother, Bea’s husband, countless others. “We’ve all done things,” Arat protested. After the war, Cyndie continued, she and her fellow Oceansiders had gone along with Rick’s plan for unification because they didn’t think they had a choice. Then Maggie had hung Gregory. “You showed us the way,” Cyndie told the Hilltop’s leader. “It was time.” For a moment, it appeared that Maggie and Daryl might intervene on Arat’s behalf. Then, Cyndie recalled how Arat had smiled when killing her kid brother. And what was it that the Savior had said? “No exceptions.” So Maggie and Daryl turned and walked away, leaving Arat to be murdered while screaming that she’d changed. The following day, as the Saviors all left behind the bridge project, Maggie told Daryl that Cyndie had shown her the way, too. “We gave Rick’s way a chance,” she said. “It’s time to see Negan.”

So, what did you think of “Warning Signs”? Did you guess who was killing the Saviors? Do you suspect that the people Anne’s trading with are using her victims as lab rats in hopes of curing zombie-ism? Hit the comments.

Source: https://tvline.com/2018/10/21/the-walking-dead-recap-season-9-episode-3-oceanside-killing-saviors/