#how the fuck am i still alive to this day

[zorbik-guligan]

Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did

anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??

[hayatoseyepatch]

What are the windbreaker boys' doing for no nut november lol

OOO HOW MUCH FUN IS THIS???

Also anon I am so so sorry how long this took me to get to, with my hiatus and the big sad I’m getting through everything now thank you for your patience MWAH.

No nut November for the windbreaker boys, I think can be broken up into a few categories (I hope it’s okay I did this kind of format I just wanted to include ALL the ones I could). SMUT under the cut.

Failed (lasted a week or less):

This man started it to join in on the challenge. He was absolutely so confident so absolutely CONVINCED that he could make it the whole month without finishing. However, when you walk into your shared living room in nothing but one of his shirts and a pair of panties he can swear that he could hear his heart racing in his ears. He swore you never looked more beautiful than you had in that moment. He felt faint, felt like he hadn’t had your taste on his lips in months (it had been three days). He craved you. It was then and there that he realized he made a grave mistake, he knew there was no way he was going to make it out of this month alive.

He tries, he tries to rush off to the bathroom, flushing his body with cold water or thinking of the most un-sexy things that he could, but he felt like it was putting a bandaid on a bullet hole. His cock ached, he craved you far too much. As he stood under the cold water of the shower, he wondered what he was doing this for. Some bragging rights? Yeah. Fuck. That. He is leaving that shower and walking right up to where you stood, not caring that his skin was cold and damp. His lips attaching to the skin of your neck in frenzied kisses.

“What are you doing? Aren’t you doing your challenge?”

Your words fell on deaf ears, any further ones would be silenced as his mouth claimed your own. Tongue invading your mouth before you had a chance to even string a coherent thought. Large hands hoisted you up on the counter, slotting himself between you parted thighs to deepen the kiss. One hand steadying you with a grip on your hip, the other still placed on your thigh to pull you as close as possible to his body.

“Fuck that dumb ass challenge, cant go another moment without having you, baby.”

(HAJIME UMEMIYA, Akihiko Nirei, Choji Tomiyama, Taiga Tsugeura, Teruomi Inugami, Minoru Kanuma & Kanon Banjo)

Failed (almost made it to the end of the month):

He was confident, too, had already lasted over half the month. Maybe even into the third week of the month. He could see, though, how it was affecting you. The way he had seen you rubbing your thighs together, the way you had curled around him in your sleep, you were being deprived of pleasure. That because of a challenge he decided to participate in, he inadvertently has force you to participate in as well. So he made the decision, confident enough in the control he had to at least pleasure you, without finishing himself.

So here he was, settled between your thighs. His tongue lapping at your clit, with two fingers buried deep within the gummy walls of your cunt. Gods, how had he gone without you this long? His mind was hazy, lost in the euphoria of tasting you on his tongue for the first time in weeks. Missing the delicious squelch that your wetness made when he pulled his fingers inside your pussy. So lost in the way you tasted on his tongue. The way your walls hugged his digits. The way your thighs wrapped around his head. He was so lost in you that he hadn’t noticed the way in which his hips began to rub against the plush mattress beneath him.

“Fuck baby, taste so fucking delicious.”

His words came out muffled into your cunt. Mouth greedily devouring your cunt as if he needed you like the air in his lungs. He craved this, craved you. His ministrations were making his own head fuzzy, so pussy drunk he couldn’t feel the coil tightening in his stomach. Couldn’t realize that the way he was rutting his clothed cock into the mattress below was bringing him to release. He was so sensitive after weeks of having not even a touch to himself. Before he realized what was happening he was spilling into his boxers at the same time you were riding out your own orgasm on his tongue. After you both come down from your high  and he realizes what he’s done, all he can think is “well I already lost, might as well make it worth it”.

(Haruka Sakura (only participated because he heard 'challenge' and that was it),  Jo Togame, Hiragi Toma, Tasaku Tsubaki, Shuhei Suzuri, Yukinari Arima, Yuto Kusumi, Uryu & Seiryu Sakaki)

Succeeded:

These men are extremely strong-willed, able to make it to the end of the month. Though not without some challenges, the was you had tried to make him crack throughout the course of the month did not go unnoticed. The short skirts, wearing his clothes around, foregoing the use of panties with making him aware of such, and overall just sauntering around in any state of undress within the walls of your apartment. He’s been using all those moments, committing them to memory for when the month was over. So when December 1st is here you better hide. Because the moment the clock hits midnight on December 1st he is on you before you can so much as think to try and escape him.

“You thought you were so cute this past month, didn’t you baby? What was that, hm? I can’t hear you.”

You were unsure how he expected you to be able to utter a single syllable. Not with the way his cock was bullying your insides. Not with the way your knees were pressed to your chest, they had at one point been over his shoulders, but with the way he took to devouring your mouth with his own they were placed as they are now. He didn’t know how he could have even succeeded in this, not with the delicious way you felt suffocating his cock with your cunt. He most certainly would never be doing this again. Never depriving you both of the pleasure of losing yourselves in each other’s bodies. Especially not with the way you called his name, looking up at him with half-lidded eyes so full lust like he was the only person to exist.

Yeah, no, he was never doing this again.

(HAYATO SUO, Ren Kaji, Mitsuki Kiryu, Saku Mizuki, Kota Sako, Akihiko Miyoshi & Kanji Nakamura)

Did not try at ALL:

There was nothing that he could think of that was stupider than this challenge. Couldn’t think of why on earth he would deprive not only himself, but you, of physical pleasure. He could not fathom why he would miss out on the way your gummy walls felt when they clung to his cock with a vice grip. Watching the way your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he fucked into your tight cunt. Or the way your mouth felt wrapped around his cock, the tears coating your lashes as he fucked that cute little throat. So, yeah, he thought it was stupid. He relished in he tortured looks of his friends as they struggled through the month, all while knowing he was going to be going home and spilling inside you the moment he could.

He shook his head, wondering if any of these guys even so much as asked their partner if they wanted partake in this dumb ass challenge. If they were okay with the decision to deny their pleasure from their partner for an entire month. All he knew was that wasn’t something he would every do to his partner. Instead when he got home, he trailed kisses up your spine, before settling in the crook of your neck. Being sure to leave a mark in his wake that would let anyone who saw it know that he both of you couldn’t care less about the challenge. His hands gripping firmly on your hips, rocking you back on him, eyes glued to the way his cock disappears within your depths.

“Fuck baby just like that, doing so fucking good for me.”

He emphasized each word of his sentence with a snap of his hips angling to hit deeper with every thrust. Head thrown back as he lost himself in the way you felt. Hips continuing their steady pace, chewing on his bottom lip as he fucked into you. Hips slapping against yours the wetness of your skin causing it to echo against the tile walls of your shared bathroom. He lets his fingers finally curl around your throat squeezing just enough to make gaining air flow a bit difficult as the other's thumb begins rubbing slow dragging circles against your puffy clit. The way your walls began to spasm around his cock made him all the more satisfied in his choice, because there was no way he’d be missing out on this for a whole month.

(YAMATO ‘why the fuck would I go an entire month without touching my partner’ ENDO, Haruka Sakura, Takiishi Chika (thinks it is stupid and does what he wants when he wants), & Kotaro Sugishita.)

[sircantus]

For your runaway prince wilbur, assuming Phil's the king, would Tommy be part of the rebels therefore on the way of Techno wanting to burn it down or would he be a prince as well?? I'm very curious about the au in general honestly so if you've brainstormed anything else I'd love to hear it!! If you want to ofc

Ok so the au is basically that Wilbur feels very suffocated and alone as a prince and wishes for the free life of being a nobody while playing songs on the road and one day he’s like fuck it im gonna go chase the dream and he runs off from home thinking “eh no one will need me all that much techno is the heir and tommy will be a spare so off i go!” And so he goes tries a life out of the royal environment and surprise to no one he is shit at it but honestly hes never been more alive

And in the meanwhile Phil, the king, who has been kinda really distant and busy lately, checks in with his kids at last and then is like. Oh god im missing one. Why am i missing one. And then both techno and tommy (who had ALSO been busy with their own duties and hardly ever checked up on wil) are like WHAT DO YOU MEAN HES MISSING SURELY WE JUST SAW HIM??

Anyhow wilbur somewhat gets his feet underneath him and learns how to support himself. He still feels a grudge tho for that whole distant royal family stuff so he makes a few songs venting about it to which the people take as “yeah the royal family DOESNT care about us common people you have a point! Hate those guys ugh rich people” Wilbur is at first like wait no thats not the point but people are liking his music here so he kinda rolls with it and starts getting a decent audience who enjoy his music

So now he’s getting these little concerts where he just disses the royal family sometimes and has people rallying around dissing the crown, and word of that reaches the castle of course so phil, still busy with trying to track down his LOST CHILD without causing mass panic to the kingdom is like “techno go take care of that for me” and so techno does. And then finds wil. And is like “i blame everyone here for the fact you went missing and gave me a heart attack for several months” Tommy is entirely on the side of burning the place down. Bro wants blood. Wilbur has to shake his brothers by the shoulders like “PLEASE refrain” and theyre like “:( but they took you from us >:( its treason”

[bloodnikki]

Ekko loves Jinx. He loves every side of her even if he can’t get the name right. He wonders why it’s a struggle to accept her as Jinx until she’s gone and it hits him.

Guilt. It’s guilt that made him unable to let go. It’s guilt for his people. If he accepted as Jinx, and loved her anyway, he would’ve been a failure to them. He wouldn’t have been able to look them in the eyes as he fought to protect them.

Powder’s still in there was code for I’m not a bad person for wanting her. It maybe why he was so angry he wouldn’t let him call her that. Jinx wanted him to remember her crimes. Jinx needed him to see her for who she was.

He gets why she stayed with Silco. He was an awful man but at least he cared for her enough to respect the person she wanted to be. Ekko had been ashamed to love her.

‘Hey, I know we were meant to have this big talk after the battle but I can’t. I’m tired of talking. We run around in circles. Powder, Powder you say and I say I’m Jinx and you give those big eyes and I feel shitty for being me and you feel shitty because I’m me. I can’t do that. So, I’m just gonna listen to Silco. I’m going to end the cycle. He came to me the other day talking about being brave enough to end cycles or some nonsense. He talks too much. I guess it’s finally time I listen. Kinda owe him one time seeing as I killed him.

Ekko, do you ever wonder what we could’ve been? I do. Not all the time. I’m not that crazy but I do. It reminds me of how fucked and jinxed I am and your stupid big eyes and I just can’t do this anymore. It would’ve been easier if you just killed me.

So, no big talk. Instead, I’m ending the cycle. I’m going to this place I heard about from Vander when he was still kicking around. Maybe if we met there things would’ve been different.’

Ekko.hates when he finds the letter stuffed in his things at the lab. He thinks how he thinks of it as their lab but it’s not. It’s all hers and she’s gone. Vi said she didn’t make it. He cries for what feels like hours. He leaves and can’t will himself back to their shared space.

He misses her so much. Everything reminds him of her. His feet take him back to their lab and he’s ready to mourn her all over again when he sees a letter that wasn’t there before. In large pink ink, the top read She Lives.

He flicks it open and the first lines make him chuckle. ‘I just can’t seem to die. So, the world is stuck with me. The world is stuck with me but that doesn’t mean I have to be stuck here. I doubt you’d like to come with. I’m scared you’d say no. So, I’ve gone on ahead. I’m going to check out this place here. If I miss you, which let’s face it, you most likely aren’t gonna come, I’ll leave a note on where I’ll head next. It’ll be like a game.’

Ekko hates how excited he is she’s alive. He hates the idea of not telling Vi or anyone. He tells Scar though. Ekko’s packing a bag and he tells Scar “she made it. I’m going. Things are covered here and ya got this and I’m going and-“

“Good. Go.” Scar understands. “Come back once you both are ready.”

“I… thanks.”

Ekko follows behind her. Some stops, he knows he just missed her. Everyone tells him stories about her and he reads her letters. He cries some nights looking them over. She leaves a photo behind for him. The back reads ‘look at me! I’m finally putting on some pounds. Maybe I’ll finally grow boobs.’ She looks beautiful.

Their messages are a one way street. She can talk to him but he can’t talk to her. It must be justice for all the times he shut her out when he wanted to speak to Powder and only got Jinx. Ekko buys a notebook on the way to the third town. He wants to write down his thoughts to share later with her.

It’s almost two years and he’s just missed her more times than he could count. He wonders if she’ll ever slow down enough to let him catch her. From her letters, it sounds like she’s scared he isn’t coming. He hates that she’s no faith in him. Of course he’s coming. He loves her.

It finally happens. He finally sees her in person and there’s no way she’s getting away, unless she runs. He really hopes she doesn’t run.

“Ekko.”

And that’s it. He’s never letting her out of sight again.

[zepskies]

First of all, welcome back, Wayne! I'm so glad you're here and it's been so lovely to catch up. And now I'm so excited to see what happens next with this story!!

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Oooh Diane's playing a tricky game. I sense cat and mouse vibes forming, and now I'm scared for both Beau and the reader...

“If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

Dear GOD this bitch. 😭 The sad part is I can so see her getting under Beau's skin and picking at his guilt, since she's basically hit the nail on the head as far as his feelings are concerned.

Also I appreciate the authenticity of Grey's Anatomy in Spanish show playing on the screen when we get that first flashback in Mexico lol. "Prince charming," eh? Foreshadowing? 😂

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

Oh, definitely foreshadowing. 🥰 (Even if it's bittersweet in this context lol)

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

It's so painful and messy, but I love how the reader didn't sugar coat things even when she was reassuring him. She was honest about how she had an inkling he felt the way he did, but knew he would never act on it when Randy was alive. I'm also glad she specified that her love for Randy and Beau were never at the same time. It's such an important detail, and yes it sucks that Diane is preying on Beau's insecurities, but hopefully he and the reader come out stronger for having hashed this stuff out.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

*shivers* Oooh, I love it when he gets angry. 😏

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Whyyyyyyyyy?!!! 😭😭😭😭 Oh God, this is about to get SO messy, and now I'm biting my nails to see what'll happen next. Especially because there are still quite a few chapters left. Brilliant cliffhanger even though it just about gutted me lolll. Can't wait for Friday!

Polaris – Chapter 8

Series Summary: When Beau Arlen moved to Montana, he left behind a past he wasn’t proud of. But when a series of murders requires the FBI’s help, Sheriff Arlen‘s ghosts come back to haunt him one by one. With a wrong turn waiting at every crossroads, it’s hard to make the right choices and find his way back home – back to you.

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

Warnings: 18+, fluff, angst, serial killer, Diane is her own warning, Grey's Anatomy & alcoholism, uhm... hard to explain the last one without spoilering. You'll be fine 😂

Word Count: 5.5k

A/N: Oh boy, I'll save you guys long explanations. Life got in the way, so let's just all be glad we're back here 😅 Some of you brilliant sleuths already caught breadcrumbs of my scheming in the last part, so here's The One You've Been Waiting For...

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

Your boot soles thudded on the floor as you dashed inside the station, your questioning look aimed at Jenny, who leaned against her desk with crossed arms and a stern brow. Beau was hot on your heels, just jogging in behind you. You practically raced him from the car across the parking lot.

“She’s in Interrogation Room 3,” Jenny informed you.

“Is she cuffed?” Beau asked, his voice carrying a hint of anger caused by concern. He had a whole car ride to the department to rile himself up and let his head spin with reasons. None of them soothing; all of them terrifying.

Jenny shook her head. “No. She’s not officially under arrest and hasn’t confessed yet, either. ‘Sides, she willingly came in and just all too happily sat down. She’s clearly playing a game. I’d be careful.”

“Alright, thanks,” Beau said and looked at you. “How you wanna do this?”

“Let’s just go in and talk to her. See what she has to say and what angle she’s playing,” you suggested, and Beau agreed with a nod, both of you falling into step as you headed down the hallway.

“My favorite couple. There you are,” Diane greeted you with a smirk that could only be described as lunacy as soon as you and Beau walked into the interrogation room. “Hope I didn’t disturb your evening.”

“Not at all,” you replied with an easy smile and took a seat across from her, Beau settling down right next to you and leaning back in his chair. “What can we do for you, Diane?”

“Well, I figured I come here before you call in the cavalry. There’s no need for all this drama. I have a feeling you two have enough of that,” she quipped and grinned devilishly at the both of you.

“So, you waltzed in here to confess to twenty-four murders?” Beau arched a disbelieving eyebrow at her.

“Oh, nice try. But I won’t confess to anything until you two have told me a little more about yourself,” Diane announced cheekily. “You talk – I talk. My rules. My game. Let's be honest. You don't have anything to nail me down. Zero, really. You two need this. I'm giving you a win, Sheriff.”

Beau and you shared a look. Neither of you liked this, but you supposed you had to play along if it led to a confession. You nodded at Diane. “Fine, what d’you wanna know?”

Diane grinned in triumphant satisfaction and folded her arms on the metal table, curiously leaning forward. “Look, I think it’s cute you two found each other… after divorce and death, of course. ‘Cause who likes a cheater, right?” she posed theoretically, her smirk getting wider. “I guess, for me at least, it’s just hard to believe there’ve never been any feelings before that. Seems kinda odd to me.”

You smiled wryly. “Well, for me at least, it seems kinda odd and, frankly, hard to believe some psychotic bitch would murder over twenty innocent people just because her husband was a cheating dirtbag. Yet, here we are.”

“Here we are indeed, Agent,” Diane snarked with a pleased smile. “And I’d be wary throwing the word ‘innocent’ around so carelessly. After all, just look at you two. I mean, I’m not saying you’ve planned this little hot love affair, but c'mon! What, no lingering looks? No fluttering hearts, dirty thoughts, or wistful what-ifs?”

You remained cool and held your gaze stern. No quiver of a lip, no twitch of an eye, no flinch of a muscle betrayed you. But Beau must’ve signaled something when Diane’s eyes drifted to him. She tilted her head with a delighted sneer forming on her face. Your heart halted in your chest. You knew she’d locked in on a target like a lioness on the prowl.

“Whoop, Sheriff Arlen, do you have something to tell me? You seem awfully quiet and… shifty,” Diane prodded the tip of her metaphorical knife into his ribcage, prying it open just enough to see inside. “If her husband was your partner, you must feel at least a little guilty for fucking his wife as soon as he was six-feet-under. Did you have feelings for her when they were still married? You did, didn’t you? I wonder what he’d say if he were still alive.”

“Okay, enough,” you snapped and drew a line in the sand, noticing how Beau withdrew more and more upon her words. She was getting to him and enjoying it. “Neither of us has done anything wrong, got it?”

Diane chuckled amusedly. “Sheriff Arlen, you should learn from your girlfriend here. She’s better at acting than you are. Or is it lying?” Her questioning gaze turned to you.

“What d’you want, huh?” you prompted with stern annoyance, hoping to take some heat off of Beau. “You want some weird confession, so you can throw one of us into a bunker?”

She shrugged nonchalantly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Agent. We’re just having a friendly chat among colleagues, getting to know each other.” She grinned, her icy gray eyes sparkling with devilish joy. She leaned closer to Beau, circling in on him. She could smell he was close to a breaking point and aimed her sledgehammer at him. “Tell me, Sheriff, were you happy when your partner died? I mean, you must’ve been. She was finally free and all yours for the taking. Is that why your marriage crumbled so soon after his death? Why you followed her all the way to Mexico, leaving your family behind? Be honest, did you lead her husband into that warehouse on purpose?”

“Shut up!” Beau yelled and bristled, his voice trembling with anger as did every single muscle of his. He jumped up from his seat and kicked the chair roughly against the wall before storming out and slamming the door loudly behind him.

Shocked, you rose from your seat as well and threw Jenny a worried look through the one-way mirror. As you followed Beau outside, you could still hear Diane’s heinous laugh.

November 2020

‘¿Recuerdas que en tu infancia creías en cuentos de hadas? En la fantasia de lo que podría ser tu vida. Tu vestido blanco, un príncipe azul que te llevaría en sus brazos a un castillo sobre una colina…’

A knock on your door rattled you and snapped your attention away from the small, old TV in your room. The image was grainy at best, and you were sure the television itself was bought sometime in the early 2000s. Yet, you still managed to hook it up to your laptop and stream a few shows. Drinking and watching television was all you had for entertainment down here whenever you were on the lay-low and had some time off.

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

You hurriedly blew your nose in one of the tissues in your hand and wiped the tears out of your eyes. Bolting into the bathroom first, you did a quick check of your appearance in the stained, wonky mirror. Well, good enough. Who were you trying to impress? You were a grieving widow. People expected you to look like shit.

Beau blinked at you as the door opened. He offered you a friendly smile, although he could tell you had cried again. You never admitted it, always telling him you were fine and brushing away any and all of his concerns. But your red and puffy eyes were hard to hide and even harder to ignore when he stopped by your room at night. It broke his heart every single time.

“Hey, I know you haven’t eaten dinner yet, darlin’,” he said and tried not to sound too scolding. Since Randy’s death you’d been basically on a grief diet, although you seemed to be more willing to eat since you’d come to Mexico. But Beau had taken it upon himself to ensure your stomach was always full.

“Uh, thanks, but I’m not hungry,” you said quietly and were already keen to close the door to get rid of him again. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn’t.

Beau frowned and already slid his boot between the door and its jamb. “You know I’m not leaving till you ate. And since you’re being particularly difficult tonight, I’m just gonna have to watch you till that whole bag is empty. Now, trust me. This ain’t fun for me, either. Don’t make me spoon-feed you and do airplane noises. It’s been a while, but I have experience in that field. You wanna hear my lecture about your essential vitamins and minerals again?”

You sighed dramatically and were close to a whine. “Beau, I’m really not in the mood right now. Can you please just–” You stopped when you noticed the man wasn’t even listening to you. With a curiously furrowed brow, he cocked his head and leaned inside your room with a skillful weight shift, his green eyes focusing on the TV.

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

‘¿Por qué siempre dormirmos en mi casa? ¿O no tienes una?’

“What are you watching?” Beau had fully stepped inside your room, and you knew your probability of kicking him out again sunk by the second. You sighed once more and closed the door behind you two.

“Grey’s Anatomy in Spanish. I already know the episodes, so I figured I could learn a little. I already forgot most of it from school,” you replied.

“Huh. Never watched this show.” Yet, he sat down on the foot of your bed and seemed hooked. His eyes were glued to the screen, brow lightly creased above the bridge of his nose that showed his interest. If you had popcorn, you would’ve handed it to him.

You rolled your eyes a little but smiled nonetheless. Randy had been the same. He’d teased you for watching till he caught one episode and was immediately enthralled. Afterward, you weren’t allowed to watch a single episode without him anymore.

“You wanna watch with me?” You grabbed the bag of food and crawled onto your bed, leaning against the headboard. You quickly discarded the tissues that were strewn all over your mattress. Luckily, he hadn’t noticed them yet, or you would’ve received a look full of worry and pity.

“Sure.” Beau nodded and smiled at you over his shoulder, happy you had decided to eat, after all. “So, what’s this show about?”

“A hospital in Seattle. But honestly, everyone’s just sleeping with everyone…”

It took a while till you had explained all the intricacies of each relationship to him. Fortunately, this was only the first season. He gasped when you informed him the show had seventeen of it – so far. By the end of the episode, he had joined you by the headboard, sitting next to you as you shared the remaining tacos.

‘Me gusta el helado de café, whisky de malta de una sola destilería, de vez en cuando un buen habano.’

“Ah! Now that’s a home,” Beau declared with a broad and longing smile, raising his beer bottle to the TV. “You know, I’ve always wanted an Airstream trailer exactly like this.”

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

His brow quirked. “Is that Spanish for trailer?”

“Yes, he just said it. You need to pay attention,” you chided playfully and took a sip from your beer.

“Hey, look, I’m just glad I can keep up with who’s sleeping with who, alright? Don’t need to add Spanish vocabulary to the mix,” Beau quipped, making you giggle. “I actually almost bought a trailer like that when me and Carla first got married.”

You grinned knowingly. “Lemme guess, Carla said no and almost shot you?”

Beau snorted a laugh. “Ha! Yeah, she definitely came close that time. But Emily was already on the way, so I guess it would’ve been impractical with a baby.”

“Smart choice.”

As your eyes traveled back to the TV, Beau’s gaze landed on you. He watched as your cheeks moved when you laughed with your whole heart. How your pink, full lips sealed around the bottle opening whenever you sipped on your beer. How your shimmering hair fell into your face in waves as you leaned forward and hugged your knees. Lingering looks.

“You wanna open a bottle of tequila with me and watch another episode?” you asked with a mischievous glint in your eyes as you looked back at him over your shoulder.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah. Let’s do that,” he agreed, swallowing lightly. A part of him almost felt caught in his shameless staring. But he was willing to do anything as long as it kept you from crying yourself to sleep for another night.

Jumping up from the bed, you sauntered over to the mini bar and bent down, hauling a bottle of tequila from the small fridge you’d stored in there earlier. Beau tried not to stare at the curve of your ass and how tightly those dark blue jeans hugged it. But he couldn’t control his heart as it undeniably accelerated and thumped loudly against its prison. Fluttering hearts.

Four episodes and two Margarita pitchers in, you stretched with a yawn, barely able to keep your eyes open. You glanced at Beau with an amused smile as he was still transfixed by the TV and heavily engaged in the show.

“I’m beat. You mind if we turn in?” you checked and laughed a little when his green eyes blinked at you in surprise.

“Oh, uh, sure. I’ll head back to my room,” he said, nodding. “You, uh, wanna do this every night, maybe? I mean, it’s not like there’s much else to do here… We could hang out and binge-watch, as the kids say. Netflix and chill.”

You snorted. “Beau, that’s not what you think it means…”

His brow furrowed. “Well, what does it mean?”

“Sex,” you said bluntly and watched his mouth open and close. It was rare to render that man speechless.

Beau pursed his lips, his cheeks redder than the desert sand. “Yeah, uh, no Netflix and chill, then.” He cleared his throat a couple of times while you stifled your laughs. “Can I just finish this episode before I go?”

You giggled, getting up from the bed. “Sure. Knock yourself out. I need some bathroom time before, anyways.”

As you sauntered into the small, dingy bathroom, you briefly glanced back and saw Beau’s focus was already back on the sexy doctors. You laughed a little, shaking your head before you began to wash your face and slip into your pajamas, which were just a pair of sweat shorts and an old college shirt of Randy’s. Go Cougars!

Unbeknownst to you, Beau’s gaze didn’t remain on the TV for long. At first, he only caught a glimpse of you from his periphery in the bathroom mirror through the cracked door. For a moment, he stared, unable to tear his eyes away as you shed out of your shirt. But when your bra came off as well, he averted his eyes shamefully back to the TV. His mind, however, still wandered, incapable of shaking the image of you, various unholy ideas gathering for a villainous summit. Dirty thoughts.

‘Así que, elígeme a mí. Escógeme a mí. Ámame a mí…’

“Still hooked, huh?” Amused, you arched a brow at him as you strolled out of the bathroom and saw he was still enchanted by the magic of dramatic television.

“He’s gonna go back to the cheatin’ ex, isn’t he?” Beau asked without looking at you. He sat on the bed with arms crossed and his brow scrunched.

You pressed your lips together as you smothered another laugh. “Oh, no spoilers from me, but it’s a bit of a ride. And we haven’t even gotten to Dr. Caliente yet,” you said, grinning.

You waited a moment for Beau to catch the hint that you wanted to go to bed. But soon you realized it wasn’t going to happen. The man had done a full deep dive into that show, and there was no way of pulling him back out.

“You know, you can stay and keep watching if you want to. I don’t mind. I’ve been sleeping with the TV on, anyways,” you said.

His gaze met yours, brow finally rising with realization. “Oh, uh, sorry. No, I can go. Let you catch some–” His eyes wandered back to the TV before he shook his head and tried to refocus. He blushed. “Sorry.”

“It’s really okay. You can stay. I don’t care,” you assured him with a soft smile and climbed under the covers, resting your head on the pillow. You switched off the lamp by your bedside table, the blue glow of the screen remaining the only source of light.

“Maybe just this episode,” he mumbled, his shoulders deflating as he sunk back into a more comfortable position again.

“This is nice,” you noted with a blissful sigh and closed your eyes. “I kinda hate being alone.”

Beau watched you as you peacefully fell asleep, the TV suddenly forgotten. For once you didn’t cry yourself to sleep. Tears, nightmares, and loneliness gone. And he wondered – what it would be like if he watched you fall asleep every night. What if he was still there in the morning. What if he could hold you as you wore his shirt. Then, the guilt came swiftly like the rising tide and washed those thoughts away. Wistful what-ifs.

“What the hell happened in there?” you hissed as quietly as possible as you caught up with Beau in the lowly lit hallway of the station. Luckily, the other cops had enough sense to stay away and keep their distance while the two of you hashed things out.

Beau dragged a hand over his face, kept his palm clasped on his mouth as he paced in a circle. You were surprised he hadn’t punched a wall yet, judging by the tension in his shoulders.

“You can’t let her get to you,” you reminded him gently, your face softening when you noticed how distraught and upset he really was. What Diane said to him must’ve cut deep.

“You know it’s not true, right? What she said in there? I-I didn’t kill him. I wasn’t… Fuck!” His eyes were brimming with desperate tears, his breathing quick. You could hear his heart race from feet away.

“Of course not. She’s a deranged psychopath,” you emphasized, although you didn’t understand why you had to spell it out for him. He already knew that. “Why are you so upset? Don’t let her get under your skin. She’s thriving off it like a hyena.”

“I know. I just-…” He took a deep breath. “What if she’s right?”

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

“Me. Us,” he said, not making necessarily more sense. “What if it’s true, huh?” He blinked at you and swallowed harshly, completely out of breath. “Look, uhm… I-I don’t know how to say this. I’ve never admitted it before, but recently, things have become a lot clearer to me…” He paused for a moment, rubbing his mouth with two fingers before he found your eyes again. “I’ve always had feelings for you, you know? There’s always been this… pull. Even back then. Since the first time I met you.”

You inhaled sharply, your lungs incapable of fitting more air as you held your breath for several heartbeats. “Beau, it’s okay.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know if it is,” he said. The tortured tone of his voice pained you. “I mean, I would’ve never done anything. You need to know that, okay? I would’ve never hurt you or Randy. I never would’ve come between you two.”

“I know that,” you assured him. You wanted to take his hands in yours, touch him, hold him. But you knew it would only make the turmoil of emotions worse instead of better, like pouring oil into the fire.

“But sometimes, just for a blink of an eye, I caught myself wondering, you know? What it would be like to be with you… Hell, I wondered all the damn time. Even on your freaking wedding day,” he confessed. “That’s the kind of horrible person I am. And now, that I am with you and so fucking happy, I feel guilty every time that things worked out the way they did. ‘Cause it does feel like I’m happy that I’m with you, and he’s not.”

You let out a heavy sigh through your nose and finally took his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers as you squeezed them. “I know all of that,” you said, his brow rising in bewildered surprise. “In terms of being honest… I guess a part of me always knew you felt this way, but I never let myself go there. And yeah, considering everything, it’s only natural to feel guilty. But you’ve still done nothing wrong. We’ve done nothing wrong. You can’t control how you feel. Neither can I. And I’m not saying everything always was exactly right, and we did everything by the book, but I loved Randy with all my heart. There wasn’t room for anyone else… And now, I love you. But it was never at the same time, you know?”

Beau pulled you into his arms and held you tightly, kissing your crown. “No, I know. Trust me. I know that part.”

“I love you, okay?” You tiptoed to claim his lips, putting your whole heart into the kiss. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you wouldn’t lie, either. “Diane doesn’t get to use that against us. Everything that happened, everything we’ve done right or wrong – that’s between you and me… and maybe God at some point. But surely not that psychotic bitch in there. She’s doesn’t know what we think or feel, so don’t give her ammunition, alright?”

Beau nodded and pecked your lips, his hands caressing your cheeks. “I love you, too.”

Jenny cleared her throat as she carefully snuck up on you. “You guys okay?”

You gave her a soft smile. “Yeah. What d’you got?”

“Well, since Diane walked in and became our prime suspect, the new DA on the case signed a search warrant for her property, office, car, and all her devices,” Jenny informed you.

“Alright, take Pops with you and head to her house first. Call me if you find somethin’ we can burn that witch with,” Beau ordered, putting his sheriff hat back on, jumping into the saddle full-throttle.

“On it, boss.” Jenny gave him a resolute nod and hurried down the hall.

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

As you opened the motel room door, you found Beau on your doorstep with a giant grin on his freckled face and not one but two bottles of tequila. One in each hand that he joyfully wiggled in the air.

You chuckled, shaking your head at him. “Christmas was two weeks ago, payaso.”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here, so merry belated Christmas,” he retorted and strolled right in as you held the door open for him. “Can’t believe you stayed here and didn’t go home for Christmas.”

“Meh, wasn’t in the mood to be placated and pitied by my whole family. I know they all mean well, but if I get one more concerned head tilt and a ‘How are you holding up, sweetie?’, tendré que apuñalar a alguien,” you huffed.

Beau narrowed his eyes at you, slightly amused. “I only understood the word ‘stab’, but I think I get the gist,” he joked, laughing. “I see your Spanish is getting better. So, how was your depressing and lonely Christmas without your family?”

“Nice guilt trip, asshole,” you retorted playfully and scoffed. “Great, actually. I went out with the guys from our team who stayed here, too. Got insanely drunk on some Christmas cocktail Ignacio created. And some hot guy taught me how to Salsa dance. He got a little handsy towards the end, which, granted, is the most action I’ve seen in five months, so…”

Beau’s lips thinned as he weighted your words. “Huh, so to recap: you got wasted with five guys in a dingy bar and second base with some stranger. Sounds like Christmas-y fun.”

You frowned slightly, watching him open one of the bottles of tequila. “Alright, there were no bases being hit, Judge Judy. How was your Christmas?”

“Not as fun, I can tell you that much,” Beau muttered and gulped some tequila straight from the bottle.

Your nose scrunched, lips pursed. “You and Carla got into it again?”

“Oh yeah, big time,” he replied. “I’ve only been home twice, including Christmas. You’d think she’d be more happy to see me, but instead I get yelled at for not being home more and criticized like I’m some drunk.”

Your narrowed look drifted to the bottle of liquor tightly clasped in his hands as he plopped down on the bed with a sigh. “Well, you know, not really making an argument for yourself there, gaucho.”

He scowled at you. “Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

You pursed your lips and hesitated briefly. “No… But I do think you have a slight issue with... occurrence and... volume.”

He sent you a small glare. “That’s the same thing, just different words.”

“Look, I get it. It’s not like I’ve been a healthy example these past months,” you said, hoping a softer approach would work. You sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s been hard for all of us. Grief wrecks you. But you have a family to think about. Maybe it’s time you go home… for good.”

His brow drew into creases, green eyes drilling a hole into you. “Do you want me to go?”

Your lips parted for a moment, reluctant to answer as his question hung in the air between you two. “It’s not about what I want. You should do what’s best for you.”

Beau considered your words, his head bobbing. “I wanna stay. I need to see this through. For Randy,” he declared, although it was only partially true. Another part of him stayed for you. There was an electrostatic force, invisible to the naked heart and irresistible to the free mind. A force that kept him in your orbit and bonded his atoms with yours.

Maybe you should’ve told him to go home, been more insistent on making him leave, clearer on what was best. But truthfully and selfishly so, you liked having him around. He was your constant, your little piece of home in a strange land and an even stranger new life. And you didn’t want to navigate this new life alone.

“You sure?” you still asked for the sake of your conscience, but the determination on his face over his decision made your heart sing in relief.

“I’m sure. Just wish things were easier…”

Walking back into the interrogation room, you smiled victoriously as you slapped a folder full of evidence on the metal table in front of Diane. The deputies had found “a buttload” in Poppernak’s words.

Regardless, you knew Diane wasn’t stupid. If the deputies found something, she had wanted you to find it. For some reason, she wanted to be arrested. But you didn’t care what sick game she was playing. Cuffing her meant there’d be no more bodies, no more victims.

She gave you a titillated sneer, glimpsing at the file in front of her before finding your eyes again. She bit her lip, smirking. “Oooh, lookey, what you found there,” she mocked.

“It’s over, Diane. You’re under arrest for multiple murders among a plethora of other charges. But you already know that,” you told her firmly.

Beau’s features were stone-cold. He was pissed, radiating that fire burning inside of him for miles. He made the Yellowstone supervolcano look harmless. “Stand up and turn around. Hands behind your back.”

Diane did as told without any protest. She grinned at you the whole time when Beau manhandled her roughly into her handcuffs, bending her over the metal table as he read her the Miranda rights. You couldn’t shake the eerie feeling in your stomach, though. You had your killer, but somehow this felt far from over. You knew she had an ace up her sleeve and was waiting to lay it on the table.

“But we were just getting started,” she snarled. “Aren’t we having fun?”

“Fun usually looks a little different for me,” Beau retorted and forced her back onto the chair as soon as she was cuffed.

“I bet it does, Sheriff,” she purred with a flirtatious glimmer in her gray eyes. “I think I’ll wait with my confession till tomorrow. Let you two lovebirds enjoy your last night together.”

Beau and you shared a wary look at that. But deep in your heart, you knew there was nothing that could tear you apart. And you hoped Beau knew it, too.

“Look, bitch, I don’t care what you think you’ve planned, but it won’t drive a wedge between us. All it’s gonna do is piss us off more, got it?” you threatened and leaned forward on the table with an angrily knit brow.

Diane chuckled. “Confident. I always liked you, Agent. Aren’t you even a little curious what I’ve got in store for you?”

“No,” you replied without hesitation. You looked up at Beau and rose from your seat. “Let’s go. She’s not gonna talk tonight.”

Beau nodded, putting his hand on the small of your back, leading you outside the door. And just as your hand reached the handle, Diane decided to play her ace of hearts.

“It’s about your husband,” she noted innocently. You could hear the satisfaction in her voice as your whole body stiffened, muscles freezing. Beau felt it, too. His heart began to race. “Dead husband, of course. I always forget that part. Silly me.”

Beau’s hand on your back gave you a soft caress, telling you it was okay to turn around and find out. You didn’t want to care. And most of all, you didn’t want Beau to see that you did. But as you met his forest-green eyes, they were full of understanding.

“What about him?” you asked bravely, your chin held high as you faced her.

Her grin widened before her gaze wandered to Beau. “It’s in my pocket. Mind giving me a hand, Sheriff? You can even touch. I know you have a hard time keeping those hands to yourself,” she taunted.

You scoffed exasperatedly, rolling your eyes. “I’ll do it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Agent. Let me have a little fun. I’m about to be felt up by enough women,” she quipped.

You ignored her, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and holding her in place as your other hand dived into her back pocket. Your brow furrowed as your fingers identified a small plastic stick. Your frown deepened as you pulled out a familiar thumb drive. It wasn’t the first one you had received from her.

Twenty-five.

Had she taken another victim before giving herself up? What was so special about this one? What did it have to do with Randy? Did he ever cheat on you? Did Beau know?

You found that quite unbelievable. In fact, you knew there was no chance in hell that was true. But that did nothing to ease your conscience.

Your hand trembled in sync with your palpitating heartbeats. You tried to steady it as best as you could and keep your jumpy nerves in line as you slipped the small drive into its designated outlet on your laptop, not wanting the team that had gathered around and behind you to catch on to your unnerving emotions.

As you clicked on the MP4 file, your heart came to a standstill when a video popped open in the player. Pressing Play, you sucked in a breath and then forgot to breathe at all.

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

It felt like suffocating. Like jumping off a steep seaside cliff and drowning. Your body hit the ocean rocks; your heart split open.

It only took Beau a second longer to catch on. The horror in your voice had put him on immediate alert before he recognized the figure on the screen, too.

As your head spun and your stomach turned upside down, you couldn’t find any words and bolted outside. You needed fresh air. You needed to breathe. And you needed to goddamn puke.

“Beau, what’s going on? Who’s the guy on the video? You know him?” Jenny asked, her gaze worriedly flashing in the direction you had fled.

Beau swallowed the thick lump in his throat, forcing the name out that had haunted him all those past years. “It’s Randy.”

Chapter 9: Marooned – NOVEMBER 29

Dun, dun, dun... The dead have risen in Montana! This is where it becomes a Walking Dead crossover (at least if you ask Donno 😂). Did you call the little resurrection action beforehand? 👀 Lemme know all your wild thoughts in the comments! 💭

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

Join the TAG LIST here! 🌌 Wanna sponsor my caffeine addiction? ☕️

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

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@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways

@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73 @nancymcl @leigh70 @brightlilith

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Everything Beau Arlen: @snowayumi

Polaris Series: @corruptedcruiser @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[butteryheart]

I HIT MY HEAD TWICE ON 2 DIFFERENT PIECES OF FORNITURE IN 5 SECONDS 😭

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[sanguisxferox]

Knox feels awful for asking; he doesn't want to ever be the cause for Mathias to lose his smile. A part of him is scared of seeing the day his Master will be broken in. They've only be around each other for less than a single hour since he was brought back to life, but that life—even if he doesn't want to lose it again—he'll give it away to protect the kid that he's now a familiar to. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Just like anything personal. Fucking ears everywhere in this place. He'll need to find a way far Mathias to have some privacy.

"You brought me back to life Mathias when I was an emotionless undead for a hundred years, I'm thankful that you brought me back fully. I just think being half gone for so long has messed up with my memories, but I can only imagine how people who cared about me felt seeing me like that. So really, thank you." Knox stops walking, pressing his forehead to Mathias'. "We were both confused—you did nothing wrong. So yes, I am happy to be alive and to be able to protect you now." It'll be his way to pay back Mathias for what he did for him. A life for a life. "Have you brought back many people like me since I was gone?" He asks as they continue to walk together, still holding hands.

The question about Mathias' body made his smile falter for a moment. The more magic he used, the more he changed. He tried his best to get around doing big spells, just so he could fight off the rot that was taking over his body. Sometimes he played sick just to get out of lessons when he knew the higher ups wanted him to do something powerful. "It's fine, Knox. I'm still standing, see?". The rot was spreading though, taking over the whole middle of his chest. Mathias was thankful it was starting from the inside and spreading out though, that way he could hide it for a while.

"Oh…" Mathias did remember the last thing he told Knox. To hide and stay safe. He wondered if that was the wrong thing to say. "I'm sorry…I never got to apologize for doing what I did. I know the higher ups would hate to hear me say this, but I disrupted the circle of life by bringing you back. I probably made things very confusing for you too, especially since I made you go away so early". He paused for a moment and glanced up at the shifted, "Are you happy that you're alive?"

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

do you ever just sit there thinking about your favorite ocs while violently shaking. god. clenches fist. They're So.

[solivagantingrebel]

hey guys who wants another round of tmi

[nobodybetterlookatme]

I don't care if the texts are about what you're eating for dinner, I'll take all the crumbs I can get !!

LMAO yeah okay here you go. And upon reading them this morning it wasn't that funny so idk why I was laughing almost hysterically last night about it ahskalslal

[josecariohca]

.

[triglycercule]

This is a question related to the mtt hobbies answer that you wrote, the murder trio go around the multiverse and live in a place together, then what happend to horrortale au and horrortale papyrus? If the murder trio got to meet horrortale papyrus how would it go? (The meeting propably wouldnt end well with more canon mtt haha)

aaaaa i dont think it through to be honest when i talk about that concept. they just do. maybe horrortale's issues are already solved and aliza's already gone through horrortale and somehow fixed the hellhole (ALIZA MY GOAT PLEASE SAVE HORRORTALE I DON'T CARE IF IT TAKES 10 YEARS‼️‼️‼️) by the time that horror somehow meets dust and killer (since i dont see a feasible way that horrortale could be fixed outside of aliza or outside intervention.) or maybe he just visits from time to time. and by time to time i mean probably quarterly weekly. idk sorry i cant be bothered to think about it,,, they just do. anyways bad answer i KNOW I KNOW put the tomatoes down pls PLS

if the mtt met horror paps? horror would obviously do his little bantering thing with paps (he's probably revealing every single one of horror's embarrassing moments to them as they speak and horror's desperately trying to get him to shut up because he can tell. dust and killer are piiiiiiissed.) dust is probably like eerily calm during the whole thing. he manages to hold up a conversation pretty well with horror paps and gets along with him good enough without mentioning that theres a ghost version of him screaming asking why dust is ignoring phantom paps. meanwhile killer is mostly silent during it too probably only responding when he's spoken too. i mean like killer already doesn't like being around papyruses (papyri? papyri is so shitty i dont like it we will be saying papyruses) and then seeing horror's papyrus??? what the FUCK happened to horror paps??? sunken in eyes and cracks in his bones and those jagged teeth AND THEN THE FUCKING CROOKED SPAGHETTI????

needless to say once horror paps is gone all of them get into a biiiiig fight. dust drops the cool act because he's not gonna lose his cool around a papyrus but also he's absolutely fuming. he can tell that the changes that phantom papyrus has gone through have something to do with horror with the way that he's acting. killer is also incredibly irritated too (surpringly. being around papyruses just gets him like that) and seeing papyrus like that just gets him upset and angry. like wtf horror did you even TRY with keeping your papyrus safe??? at least killer reset his au and now papyrus is living an unharmed life (with minor concerns about killer's whereabouts but he'll ignore that for now) but horror paps looks so fucked up that there is no WAY that horror tried to prevent him from getting to that point

obviously they fight and many many many many MANY words are said about eachother's characters and the state they left their respective papyruses in. horror knows damn well that horrortale paps's state is because of him but he regretted telling paps to eat humans and neither dust nor killer knew the struggle of living with that guilt and how much he regrets it so they dont get to drag him for not trying hard enough to keep papyrus safe. dust is definitely getting some low blows here and there (but he's getting fucking assisted by phantom paps so he's got some of the deepest hitting insults) and he's definitely getting ganged up on for killing his papyrus and like. not even attempting to leave him alive in someway shape and form aside from the absolute insult that is phantom paps. surprisingly killer is winning this fight because he left his papyrus in a relatively good state. even though he's in a more emotional state than he normally is and would've absolutely OBLITERATED dust and horror in the fight in stage 2 he's actually doing pretty well. probably because hororr and dust dont really have anything to drag him on. they might bring up how something new papyrus is searching for killer but like,,,, is that really that bad compared to how they left their papyruses

[usernameyettocome]

Hey fellas. Piece of advice, never get lost in trying to make a fourteen sided die with nothing but scissors, a protractor, tape, paper and a determination to make someone a fourteen sided die for their birthday. Just don’t.

[roombagreyjoy]

*said with increasing distress, eyes blodshot and an empty mug in hand* you guys remember writing right????? you guys remember posting fic and publishing things and talking to editors about potential projects right???? you guys remember being creative in your creative jobs and not just rereading old work and having a panic attack over the time wasted over curating hyperspecific character playlists that you get mad about five minutes later right????? i'm not insane right????? creative block is normal even if it lasts for months right???? i haven't written a fic in YEARS but it's ok i'm ok i have to finish TWO original pieces for next week that I haven't even started but it'll probably be fineeeee I'm totally not being a complete and raving lunatic about it it's probably gonna be okay <3 yay <3