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multific · 1 year ago

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The Mistress of The Devil

Ivar the Boneless x DarkWitch!Reader

Warnings: mention of witchcraft, demons

Summary: Dark clothes, dark aura and powers. Where you came from, or who you were, not even Aslaug was sure anymore. All she could recall is that she promised to wed her son to you. And now, the Devil had a wife.

"I said you will marry her and this is the last I want to hear anything from you Ivar!" hearing his mother yell, Ivar knew, he lost this battle.

He was to marry this unknown woman.

He hated the idea.

Ivar will just simply kill her, he needs no wife.

He said, but the next day, just when Kattegat woke up, there stood a woman.

She was dressed in a black, her smile was kind, too kind for someone dressed so dark.

"My name is Y/N. I came for my wedding."

Everyone was confused. Aslaug ended up showing you around and introducing you to your future husband.

Ivar Ragnarson.

A strong man with an even stronger will. His legs were the proof of it. He never backed down, not letting anything get in his way.

You liked it.

The determination. The fire.

It is just what you need in a husband.

You smiled at Ivar as you two were wed.

Now, you had him.

---

Everyone knew the name Ivar the Boneless. Everyone feared Ivar the Boneless.

The fearless Viking known for his intelligence and insanity.

But then, a whisper came with the wind.

A whisper of his wife.

A woman, explained as the Darkness herself.

The Christians referred to her as Satan's Wife.

Would that make Ivar Satan in their logic?

Everyone wondered how could Ivar be so fearless, how could he know so much.

The answer was simple, his wife.

You, with your powers inherited throughout the generations of women in your family.

You, the dark sorceress who fell madly in love with a not so simple Viking.

It was always you.

People who survived Ivar's wrath often said it was as if he had a dark figure standing behind him. The figure was tall, and had long arms and eyes that glow red like blood.

Overexadiration, but not far from the truth.

One of your many beings.

Sentenced to follow and help Ivar in his fights, the being didn't have a name. It was simply black and tall.

Ivar swore sometimes he could see it from the corner of his eye.

It made him recall a time when he first saw one of your... pets.

It was very late, the fire has nearly gone out, both of you sleeping under furs.

Ivar woke, his mind fuzzy with sleep when he saw someone or rather something in the corner.

But as his eyes focused and he woke up with a start, the thing vanished.

"What is it, Ivar?" you asked, being awakened from your slumber.

"I saw someone." you looked at the corner he kept on staring at.

"I will deal with it, sleep now." you smiled at him as you stood up and walked towards the entrance of the house.

Ivar followed you, crawling as you opened the door, his words failed him.

You stood a couple steps from the door, looking towards the darkness. You turned to your left, then to your right. As if you saw someone you spoke up, just as Ivar found his way towards the doorway.

"Let him sleep! You are scaring him, I told you before." you said, to him it looked like you have gone mad, then you turned to him. "I told you before, they wouldn't hurt you, don't be afraid of them, Ivar." you said and Ivar swore he saw something move to his right. He quickly looked and saw a pair or long fingers on the wall, the... thing right around the corner, Ivar felt frozen.

Then he saw it.

The face of a being, not human. Illuminated by the light coming from the window, Ivar's pair of blues met with black eyes and skin so pale, Ivar never seen anything like it before.

"It won't hurt you." you said with a lower voice as you watched Ivar. He then looked back at you, you saw his confusion. "They won't hurt you." you said once more and this time, Ivar believed you.

But never after that night did he ever want to see any of your creatures.

---

You were a rather light sleeper.

There were occasions when nothing could wake you, and other times where a simple movement from Ivar made you wake up. This was one of those nights.

You were awakened by his simple movement, you couldn't fall back to sleep and so, you decided to just sit by the fire and watch it and Ivar.

Ivar woke up hours later, it was still dark outside and he looked at you.

"Are your demons haunting you again, Wife?"

"Quite the opposite, My King. I'm haunting them." you smirked and Ivar moved to the edge of the bed.

You stood up and stood still a couple steps away from him.

"What would you do for me, Ivar?" you asked and he looked into your eyes.

"I would burn the entire world. Kill every last person just to get to you. Kill every last demon just to have you with me again." you moved onto the floor, crawling over, you placed your hands on his knees.

"Would you run for me?" you watched his eyes switch.

You offended him.

You corrected yourself.

"If I give you the ability, would you run to me, run to save me, run to kill them? Would you?"

"C-Can you?" he asked, eyes filling with hope.

And you nodded.

A simple nod.

"Will it hurt?" came his next question.

Another nod.

"It would be worth it. Standing beside you, as the proud husband I am. Run to you? Without a question." he ran his fingers through your hair.

You sealed your deal with a kiss.

---

Everyone in Kattegat woke up with a feeling of dread.

Then they all saw.

Ivar walking around like nothing happened, as if his legs always worked.

The Devil could walk.

And it terrified everyone.

They only could imagine what his enemies would think, given how his own people were terrified of him.

His brother always knew Ivar's wife wasn't a regular woman. They had this feeling about her, as they said, there was a darkness around her.

And upon seeing their brother walk, there was no more doubt about it.

She made him walk.

So, was is actually that Ivar married the Devil? Would it actually be the Devil and her husband?

One thing was for sure, now whenever someone looked into the dark of your eyes, they could hear people crying and begging.

And just like with many names in history, yours and Ivar's were eventually melted into one.

It was no longer Ivar the Boneless and his wife.

Soon, all people remembered was the fierce Viking, Ivar the Boneless.

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 1 year ago

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Pretty like the wind

Previous chapter / Next chapter

a/n Part eight! Buckle up, that's all I will say. Much love.🤍🥹

warning: kids, past trauma, wing clipping, wounds, blood, all the horrors of Illyrian camps.

Not proof read yet!!!

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The room felt warm and quiet. You could hear people talking outside as they passed by, but it didn't bother you. The sound was muffled enough to mix and twirl with the sounds of the river. You had no idea when the last time you slept so peacefully was. Not a single night terror. Not a single flinch. There was no need to jump up every time an unknown sound filled the room. This felt safe. Happy. You blinked a couple of times. You could tell that the room was brightly illuminated by the morning sun, but no direct sunlight hit your eyes. Now you know why. Azriel had his wing wrapped around you, the bridge of it acting as your shield against the careless beam of light. You reached up mindlessly, brushing the tips of your fingers over the delicate leather, making Azriel growl ever so slightly.

You moved to turn towards him. Last night felt like a dream. Cordelia, Azriel's mother, had welcomed you with so much love that it was overwhelming. Zofie and Axel were high on attention. They sang all the songs they knew and even danced together. You had never seen them so lively. So eager to be on the receiving end of attention. Sure, they enjoyed the activities in the sanctuary. But most of them were mandatory. Children had to attend classes and have afternoon activities. And yes, they smiled while doing it, but it never came close to the smile that shined on their faces last night.

You moved your hand to the side, where Zofie usually slept. Eager to brush your fingers through her, no doubt, messy hair since she was way too tired last night to detangle her curls. But all you were met with were the cold sheets. Your heart instantly sank. Your body jolted as you sat up, pushing Azriel's wing away.

"Where are they?", your words came out almost breathless as you looked across the room. There was no sign of Axel either. A warm palm moved to caress your lower back. "Hey, calm down", the spymaster's voice was low and husky. Laced with deep sleep. And even if you wanted to bask in the sight of him, your anxious brain quickly pushed the image of him sprawled out next to you away. "Azriel", you hissed, moving to get out of bed, but he quickly caught your wrist. "They are with my mom", he muttered. "Alone?", your eyes darted towards the window. So many what-ifs were clouding your vision.

"Get back in bed", you felt a tug on your hand. But it was not only the fear for your kids that clawed at you. You two hadn't talked after the kiss. You sat on his lap last night. He had an arm wrapped around your lower back. A feathery kiss here and there. But... what if it was just a high of the moment? What if he had changed his mind? The next tug was way stronger. Azriel practically dragged you up and over his chest. As if it was nothing. As if moving your body around was the easiest thing ever.

"Azriel", you huffed, trying to fight against his touch but knowing full well that there was no way you were getting away from him. So you turned to face him. His loving eyes were already gazing at you. The shadowsinger made a quick move by pushing some of the loose strands of your hair away from your eyes before muttering, "My shadows are with them. They are safe. Mom is looking after them". You opened your mouth to argue with him, but he cut in quickly, "They are eating street pancakes now". A light smile tugged at his lips. A knowing one. "How do...", you muttered. "I see through my shadows. They are safe and happy", Azriel said with a little chuckle, no doubt watching these two do something they probably shouldn't.

"And before you ask, yes, they have mittens on", Azriel jabbed his fingers into your side, making you squirm. "Fuck you", you huffed, rolling your eyes. A deep chuckle slipped through his lips. "I would not decline", the spymaster said in a teasing manner. You gapped at him, shoving at his shoulder. "Azriel", you winced, hating how your cheeks were already getting crimson. "You say my name awfully often this morning, love", he breathed out innocently. But the embarrassment that ran through you had you hiding your face in his neck. Azriel instantly opted to run his palm up and down your back. Fingers innocently brushing against the ham of the shirt you had on. His shirt. Because magically, all of your nightgowns had disappeared, and last night you didn't want to argue with Azriel about it. A tight pang ran through your chest. Brushing a dark layer over the sweet moment. It all felt too good. Too nice. Too calm. You had never... never had a chance to have a boyfriend growing up, so, love, let's say it's been tucked deeply into your chest. Dusty, forgotten. So it couldn't just come undone so easily. Right?

"Stop worrying", Azriel grumbled. You could feel the way his chest moved with every word that he spoke. The fact that he could read you so well when, for so many years, no one could... "I can't", you muttered so quietly. Voice barely a whisper. Azriel quickly shifted, pulling just enough for him to see your face. "Do you think I would seriously let them do something that would put them in harm's way?", his voice was much more serious now. There's not a thread of that teasing undertone. Puff. Gone. A soldier made of steel.

You shake your head, "No", you hate the doubt that still rumbles deep within your gut. "I'm just scared to let them go... I don't know", you admitted, shrugging your shoulders. Azriel quickly cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. "You gave them a chance at a beautiful life, love. This just adds to it". You let out a sigh. "Well, so did you", you smiled at Azriel softly, finger running over his eyebrows, trying to learn every detail of his face. "They adore you", you humed after a moment of silence. The memory of Zofie and Axel making this hulk of a male twirl in the kitchen last night flushed through your mind. "I adore you", Azriel mused softly. You couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "Smooth", you muttered, shaking your head.

But you're met with Azriel's dazed eyes. As if there's nothing he would rather be looking at than you. As if you are the most important thing right now. "You look pretty", and it's the endless love-sick words that cause you to drop your gaze as you try to hide your face from him. "Very funny", you mutter. You could only imagine how disheveled you looked. Messy hair, no makeup. Not put together at all. Most males would run. But not Azriel, as you feel his fingers moving over your bare thighs. "I'm serious. It's like you're... glowing", and you can't take his adorations any longer as you move closer to him, reaching for his face. "What are you doing?", Azriel says as you move to straddle his hips. You only throw him a grin and say, "Keeping your mouth busy."

You two were halfway through your breakfast when the door creaked open and fits of giggles filled the place. You nearly fell back as you moved to stand up, hurrying towards the hallway. Too long. They had been away from you for too long. Waking up without them next to you had left you anxious, no matter the distractions. "Y/n", cheerful squealing filled the space as the two kids took off towards you, muddy shoes still on. "My babies", you kneeled instantly, opening your arms to them. Not minding the cool material of their winter clothes, dampened by the snow.

But keeping them still seemed impossible. Too much energy and excitement still bubbled within their tiny bodies. "You would not believe it! There's a fountain with spinning water fairies", Axel beamed, his hands flailing upwards as he showed you different shapes. "And there are golden flowers, too", Zofie pulled at your hand eagerly. "That sounds beautiful. I hope you were behaving nicely", you looked at the two of them as they nodded their heads.

Azriel watched you from the doorway. Arms crossed over his chest. He had seen the things they had gone up to, so it was you who had his full attention. The way the blanket of worry melted away. Leaving the smell of happiness behind. No longer was there a painful tug deep within him. The pain seemed glossed over. Gone simply. Watching you smile at the two kids, he suddenly realized that he would be fine with watching you like this forever. In reality, it seemed as if he needed nothing else. "Granny bought us roasted chestnuts to try", now those words had made Azriel bite down on his breath, and from your way, your shoulders stiffened; he knew that it struck you too. Granny. Azriel wondered how long it would take his mother to usher the kids to her side. Even if his childhood was horrible, his mother was the only thing keeping him alive. That hour, which Azriel was allowed to spend with her, always fueled him. Ignited enough strength so the tiny bat would not crumble completely.

"These two had stolen the whole town's hearts", Cordelia mused happily, arms full with bags, Azriel moved swiftly, taking them from her. A knowing look on her face said it all. Azriel didn't need to say anything. If he could fool his brothers, he could never fool his mother. "Did you two say thank you?", you gave both of the kids a look, and they once again nodded eagerly. Not missing a beat. Cordelia smiled right back at them.

"Y/N, can I have a quick word?" The older lady turned your way, and dread instantly bloomed within you. You threw Azriel a look, but he just shrugged his shoulders before turning to the two troublemakers, drawing shapes in the mud that they stomped inside. "Let's get you two washed up", he said, lifting the two of them easily, each resting in the crook of Azriel's armpits, laughing hysterically.

"I hope they haven't caused too much trouble, ma'am", you stood up quickly, smoothing the wrinkles in your dress. Making a mental note to mop the floors after. "Sweetheart, I thought we agreed on Cordelia", she shook her head in disbelief, but the smile didn't leave her face. "And it's not about the kids...", her eyes followed the noise coming from the end of the hallway. You could hear the mixture of laughter drowning out the silent walls. "It's about my boy", Cordelia breathed.

You watched her gaze get distant for a moment before she squeezed your hand. "My boy, I see the way he looks at you. Last night he couldn't keep his eyes off you", your cheeks heated at her words. You thought the glances were careful. Not too obvious, but it seemed you had been wrong.

"He's a handful at times, but... when he loves... he loves with all that he has", sadness lined her words now. You knew snippets of his past. Who hadn't? The whole court drummed with stories of him. His arms were a dead giveaway of his traumatic upbringing. But you never held that against him. It was a part of him. A part that needed to be loved just as much. "Don't play with his heart", Cordelia's last words came out more like a plea, and your heart bled alongside hers.

"I'll cherish it; I will", You turned to the elderly lady, taking both of her hands into hers. She threw you one of her signature-knowing looks. "Promise to bring my grandchildren around often. Been waiting way too long for them", you can't help but chuckle lightly. You doubted you would be able to hold Zofie and Axel away even if you wanted. They had fallen hard for the love they never got to experience. A grandmother's love. You turned to reach for the rest of the scattered things when Cordelia caught your hand. "And, YN", she said softly, "You were meant to find each other". It felt as if your chest hallowed out for a moment before filling with so much light that it was almost too painful to bear.

Azriel grew more worried as the day moved toward the evening. He was planning and talking with Rhys through his mind. Setting up the final times for the dinner. Shoving Rhys smug ass right out when his brothers started teasing. He was nervous. Was he nervous? He realized now that he had never brought anyone around. Well, he wasn't an innocent man. The three of them had shared females in the same room while they were young. But this wasn't that. This was so much more than that. The thought of having to share you with anyone made Azriel's blood run thick. No, you were his. As much as he didn't want to grow possessive, his scent had mingled with yours. In the same way, notes of oranges and vanilla were now intertwined with his musky scent, in more than one way, you had became his.

A thud from behind the closed door made Azriel lift his head. Axel and he had been waiting in the living room for you and Zofie to get ready. And while Axel had been fully occupied with the book that Cordelia had slipped into his hands, Azriel was growing impatient. He hadn't seen you for over a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long that was.

He heard you hissing Zofie's name, making his eyebrows scrunch. "What's going on in there", the spymaster muttered under his breath. Mostly to himself. So he was more than surprised when he heard a response,"You know females", Axel laughed under his breath, not lifting his eyes from the pages. "Axel", Azriel brushed his hand over his stubble as he tried to contain his smile. That boy was seriously way too smart for his age. Azriel chose to stay back until he could hear the frustrated stomping; that was enough to pull him from his chair.

"Can I come in?", he breathed after knocking softly. The door opened almost immediately, and Mother have mercy on him. He was ready to fall to his knees as his eyes landed on you. Wavy hair falling behind your shoulder, and a deep blue velvet dress hugging every curve of your body. And all of a sudden, the top button of Azriel's shirt felt too tight, cutting off the normal airflow, pants too itchy. The spymaster quickly pulled his eyes away from you, trying to find something else to look at.

"What's wrong", he tried to peek behind your shoulder. Getting a glimpse of Zofie with her hands crossed over her chest. You let out a sigh as you stepped aside, "She doesn't like her hair". Azriel strided ahead, moving toward the little ball of frustration, glaring at the floor as if it had done something to personally offend her.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Azriel directs the question at Zofie, who only pouts harder. "My hair", the girl tugs at her messy curls, the color of the night itself. As wild as her too. "I think it looks pretty", Azriel says softly, but Zofie is quiet enough to throw him a look that tells him that she's not buying his bullshit, no matter how hard he tried. Azriel just shakes his head in disbelief. These kids... His eyes catch a glimpse of a light blue ribbon, his hand reaching towards it almost subconsciously. "Come, sit on my lap", the shadowsinger urges the girl up the bed before his fingers brush through her long hair. And soon he finds himself in that long-forgotten rhythm of braiding someone's hair.

The rest of the evening was a big blur. Brushing at Axel's shirt. Reassuring Zofie that there was nothing to fear. Cordelia waving you all goodbye. Azriel talking, but you barely heard him through your panic. And then there's Rhys walking towards you all on his massive balcony, arms outstretched.

"Welcome, I was worried Azriel had hidden you in his cave", the high lord jabbed at his brother, making Azriel roll his eyes. But he doesn't say anything; his attention is more focused on Zofie, who has her head hidden in the crook of his neck.

"It's good to see you here, darling", Rhys reaches for your hands, and even if you know this man, had seen him at his lowest, it still feels weird being here like this. You work in his sanctuary. You are summoned by him. But it's only his office you agree to go to. Only if he winnows you straight there and back. And you know deep down that you two are linked in more than one way, but you push those thoughts away.

"It's good to be here", you say, smiling up at him. "Hope my brother didn't give you too much of a hard time", Rhys chimed, making you turn towards Azriel, who stood there more than unimpressed. "I'll issue you a paycheck", you chuckle, and you could swear that even Azriel's lip twitched with a smile for a moment.

"Uff, right in the nuts", another, much louder voice cuts in, followed by the sound of heels clicking against the tiles. "Cassian, there are kids around", a female tugged at the winged male's shirt tightly, but that only made his grin wider. "I've seen your head", and it's Axel who's pointing his little finger at the high lord. You quickly bat his finger away, shaking your head at him for the inappropriate gesture. But Rhys doesn't seem to mind as he leans closer to the boy, "And I've heard that you're growing up to be quite a soldier", your eyes darted up to Azriel. Had he been talking about you all with his family? Well, of course, he planned this, but... you can plan something without talking about the person you bring. But Azriel has a proud smile on his face as he watches the boy, and the way his eyes grow big. "Will give us competition, huh", Cassian adds, and you could swear Axel holds himself even taller as he glances at the two males, nodding.

"Why don't we all go inside", a female moves to wrap her arm around Rhys. You don't even need her to introduce herself; you know who she is, Feyre. You've seen her through Rhys's eyes, and, well, she's even more beautiful in person. "Come, my son is excited to meet you too, bud", Rhys reaches for Axel, who clasps the lord's hand tightly. You feel Azriel's hand on the small of your back as he ushered you towards the glass door.

The evening is nothing but lovely. The food is delicious, and the conversation flows surprisingly easily. The light-teasing remarks and jokes that keep flying left and right slowly eat at the tension in your shoulders. And sure, they all seem nice, but you also understand why being here would hurt Azriel. You would have to be blind to not see the amount of love that pours out of the two couples. And even if you were blind, you would still feel it. It's in the air. The looks. The touches. You imagine how lonely it must have been for Azriel. How... your hand reaches for his beneath the table, giving it a little squeeze. The spymaster glances your way, a light smile tugging at his lips.

Your eyes dart toward the three kids next. Nyx is about Zofie's age, and quite frankly, from the moment he saw her, he's been looking at her as if she's hung the stars in the sky. But the two are way too shy to talk to one another. So it's Axel who's been babbling away all evening. You can't help but smile once more. It would be lovely for them to have another friend. Someone out of their circle. And Nyx has wings too. Him and Axel could learn together. The boy practically has a heart of gold, so you're nothing but sure that he would never make fun of Axel for the way his wings were. Considering that that hadn't been brought up ever once tonight.

Just suddenly, the door burst. You don't even get to turn your head to the side before you feel Azriel moving to stand up; the absence of him is instantly unsettling. And then you see it. Someone you knew was missing from this table all along.

"Elain", Azriel's voice is filled with disbelief, and your gut curls into itself. You grip your fork tightly. What right did you have to get upset over this? You watch the surprise rippling through the female, who looks shocked to see Azriel. It doesn't help that she's gorgeous too. From her perfectly braided hair to her light pink dress, she's the complete opposite of you. "Azriel?", she says, shaking her head before leaping into his arms. And something about that hug. The way he's holding onto her sides and the way she has her arms wrapped around his neck makes you want to run away and hide. You feel a light tug at your side, turning to find the two kids now by your chair. Big eyes, full of questions, watching you.

"I thought...", the female stuttered, right as another male walked through the door, still fixing his shirt. "We do apologize for being late", his dark red hair swaying as he moved towards the table. "No, I'm aware that you two have been busy", Rhys purred back with a smirk. A knowing look painted the autumn male's features. "You... you accepted the bond?", Azriel muttered, and it's as if he's freely chosen to take chunks of your heart out tonight. And you're ready to talk and listen about anything but this. You don't want to be here anymore. Anything, you plead, give me anything.

As if summoned by you, a paper note falls right onto Rhys's plate. The male startles for a moment before reaching for it. His face darkens more and more as his eyes race through the words. The high lord's eyes meet yours over the table, "North Camp," and that's all you need to hear before moving to get up.

The dinner is long forgotten after that. Rhys winnows everyone back to the sanctuary. The grip Zofie and Axel have on you is making it hard for you to move. The troupe is getting armed, and you know that you need to be doing the same. "I want to go to Grammy", Zofie says quietly into your skirt. You kneel in front of them, "We can't go now. You two will have to stay in our old room", you say softly. You never had to leave with them present, and suddenly you realize why. Leaving them like this is more than painful.

"I can take them," Feyre cuts in. You saw the way all color disappeared from her face when she saw all of these kids and females in front of her. "You two hear that, high lady will take you to Cordelia", you cup their faces gently. "And Azriel?", Axel looks around, trying to spot the tall figures through the sea of bodies. "I don't know, bud. He was never a part of our world anyway", you hate the words that slip past your lips the moment you see confusion running through the boy's eyes. Your petty hurt is the last thing they need now. So, you kiss both of their foreheads and say, "Don't get into too much trouble without me", you flick both of their noses playfully before stepping away quickly. Turning from them so they won't see the tears on your face.

"Stay close", the voice alone has a shiver running down your back. You turn to face him. Azriel is in full Illyrian leathers, striding towards you. "Don't make this complicated", you hiss through clenched teeth, putting a dagger in the strap around your thighs. "I'm trying to keep you safe", there's that same pleading tone in his voice, but you no longer buy it. Not after tonight. Not after his whole body changed when he saw Elain.

"I was perfectly safe before you came around", you bite back. And you know, the words sting. Taking Azriel by surprise, almost. But you don't know what he expected. For you to bounce back? To not mind. "Take your brothers, go to the upper camp, and find the kids", you say bluntly. You know you are in no position to order him around, but you don't care anymore. Azriel opens his mouth as if to say something before closing it back up. You shake your head at him. And he's left to watch you rush towards the sanctuary soldiers, shouting commands before your hands disappear into a glowing light and everything grows static for a moment. As if your powers had managed to slow down time, draw elements from the air around everyone.

Azriel can't shake the sick feeling as he winnows alongside his brothers. He caught the disapproving look on Rhys's face, but the male said nothing. Deep down, Azriel knows that's not the thing that's making him uncomfortable. He didn't say anything to the kids. He tried to look for them in the sea of people but to no avail. He only found you because a soldier directed him. It's as if you didn't want to be seen by him. His head was a mess; it was not how he imagined the night to go. And Elain and Lucien... It took him by surprise, but he was happy for them. Elain reeked of the autumn male, and Lucien swaggering in all disheveled was a true cherry on top. But they were meant to be together.

"Front door", Rhys murmured through the mind bond, and Azriel only nodded before kicking the door open. The three males inched inside. The letter looked sketchy if Azriel was being honest. A sacrifice. The camp leader made a sacrifice to make a point. Show Rhys that he had no powers up in the mountains. With kids held in the upper cabin before the slaughter. And he could hear the cries, but no matter where they looked, there wasn't a single body in the house.

"What the fuck is this?", Cassian cursed as he yanked yet another door open, only to be met with the same nothingness. "Basement?", Rhys asked, his eyes scanning the floorboards. But they all knew there was no way; the sound was coming from the side. And then Azriel felt it. As if someone reached into his chest, yanked his heart out, and ripped it to pieces right in front of him. Shier panic washed over him. "Y/N," he breathed, stepping towards the front door. "The sounds are illusions", he hissed through gritted teeth. "A trap", Rhys said in disbelief as the same worry coursed through his veins. "Y/n!", a roar slipped past Azriel's lips.

Something felt off, and you could feel it. There were two little people in this camp. No commotion. You couldn't even feel the heartbeats. So what were you slowing down? You looked around, trying to catch the sigh of a single soldier. Your head up to reach for the daggers and do your scope, but there was no one here. A shiver ran down your back. And then the birds fled from the mountains. Rumbling as the snow fell from the top. Whatever caused that to happen...

But you don't get to finish the thought. You heard it before you saw it. You felt it before you could even register what was happening. A painful sob slipped past your lips as an arrow pierced your left wrist. You staggered back. Warm blood trickling down your palm instantly. No, there was no way. You barely lifted your head as another arrow hit your right palm. You let out a cry. Your vision growing hazy. Fear bubbled deep within you. You tried to summon through the pain, but the more you moved your hands, the more blood you were losing.

And then you saw a group of males, all with iron armor. "Fuck", you cursed under your breath, trying to get up and move away. But the arrows must have been dipped in venom. You stumbled, making the males laugh as they slowly inched closer towards you. "Azriel", you muttered quietly. "Azriel, please", your eyes slowly started burning with tears.

"Well, well, well...", one of the males grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the muddy ground towards them. "Two for two, it's my lucky day, boys", the other pulled at your hands, breaking off the tips of the arrows, causing you to scream out in agony. "Please", you pleaded once more.

I'm almost there. Hold on, love. Hold on for me. Azriel's voice filled your head, and you couldn't help but let out a choked-out sob at that. "Why don't we end it once and for all? Pay your daddy an omega", one of the males pulled you up by the hair right as the other threw him a dagger.

"Any last words, princess?", his voice was thick in your ear. But you don't finish. You don't make another move. Reaching deep within yourself, you wrap your hands around the glowing golden thread, caressing it softly one more time before whispering, "I'm sorry". They erupt with laughter; but they don't need to know that those words aren't for them. And then you close your eyes right as the cold blade touches your throat.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @naturakaashi @hoemadegrace

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar x reader #azriel acotar imagine #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster x reader #azriel spymaster #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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moonxytcn · 5 months ago

Text

I'll protect you. I promise. | part two

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

inspired by the song "The Diner" by Billie

part one - part two

summary – you have a stalker, but Billie is there to protect you, always watching and always there

warnings – angst, fluffy if you squint your eyes, stalker, a little paranoia, and a slight feeling of being watched

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

˗ˋˏ masterlist

–––

Weeks passed, and Billie’s obsession with you became more apparent. She insisted on knowing where you were at all times, constantly checking your location. Her calls and messages were incessant, and she visibly tensed whenever she couldn't find you. It was suffocating, but you tried to rationalize it as her way of showing how much she cared.

Billie continued to treat you with affection and love, but there was a darker undertone to her behavior. She often recounted her survival stories, how she had to take extreme measures to protect those she loved. Each time she mentioned it, a chill ran down your spine, but you tried to dismiss the unease.

One evening, after a particularly intense day of classes and studying, you and Billie were on the couch, watching a movie. She pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you with a firmness that bordered on possessive.

“I love you so much.” She whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“I love you too, Billie.” You responded, but doubts lingered in your mind.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed. It was a message from an unknown number:

We need to talk. You deserve to know the truth about Billie. – Daniel

Your heart raced, and you felt Billie’s gaze on you. “Who is it?” She asked, her voice casual but tinged with concern.

“Nothing important.” You lied, putting the phone away.

Billie narrowed her eyes but didn’t press. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Of course.” You said, forcing a smile. “I know.”

The messages from Daniel kept coming over the next few days. He insisted you needed to know the truth about Billie, that she was hiding more than you could imagine. Finally, you gave in and agreed to meet him at a secluded café off-campus.

When you arrived, Daniel was already there, sitting in a dark corner. He seemed nervous, glancing around constantly. When he saw you, his eyes softened slightly.

“Thanks for coming.” He said, gesturing for you to sit.

“Make this quick.” You said, anxiety clear in your voice. “What do you want?”

“Billie isn’t who you think she is.” Daniel began, his voice low and urgent. “She’s done terrible things. And she won’t stop.”

“I know about her past.” You retorted. “She told me.”

Daniel shook his head. “She told you enough to keep you close. But there’s more. She’s not just trying to redeem herself. She’s… obsessed with you.”

You felt a chill run down your spine but kept your expression steady. “Why do you care?”

“Because I was there.” Daniel replied, his gaze dark. “I saw what she’s capable of. She’s hurt me before, and she’ll do the same to you if you’re not careful.”

“You expect me to just believe you?” You asked, your voice filled with distrust.

Daniel sighed. “I brought proof.” He slid a thick envelope across the table. “Read this when you’re alone.”

Before you could respond, he got up and left the café quickly. You looked at the envelope, fear and curiosity warring within you.

Back at Billie’s apartment, you waited until she was in the shower to open the envelope. Inside, you found a series of documents, photographs, and letters detailing Billie’s past activities. There were reports of violence, manipulation, and even death.

Your heart grew heavy as you read, tears streaming down your face. The man in the café had been right. There was much more to Billie than she had told you.

When Billie emerged from the shower, she found you sitting on the couch, the empty envelope beside you. “What’s this?” She asked, her tone cautious.

“Daniel.” You said, your voice weak. “He gave me this.”

Billie looked at the documents, her face turning pale. “I can explain.” She said quickly.

“You lied to me.” You said, your voice trembling. “You said it was to survive, but this… this is much more.”

Billie knelt before you, tears in her eyes. “I did what I had to do to protect those I loved. I never wanted to hurt you. I only wanted to protect you.”

“Protection? Or control?” You asked, the pain evident in your voice.

“I love you.” Billie whispered. “I would never do anything to hurt you. Please, believe me.”

You looked at her, your mind a turmoil of emotions. Despite everything, you still loved Billie. But now you knew the truth, and it changed everything.

“I need time.” You finally said, your voice filled with sadness. “To think. To process all this.”

Billie nodded, her tears falling freely. “I understand. I’ll wait for you. Always.”

You stood up and left, leaving Billie on her knees on the floor, her heart broken. As you walked through the dark streets, the full moon shining above, you wondered if you could ever forgive Billie – and if you could ever trust her again.

But even as you struggled with your feelings, you couldn’t deny the truth. Billie loved you, in a deep and desperate way. And despite everything, a part of you still wanted to believe that somehow, you could find your way back to each other.

(...)

In the following days, you and Billie began to rebuild trust. Billie opened up more about her dark past, sharing details she had previously hidden. She talked about the dangerous people she got involved with, the things she had to do to survive, and how she always regretted her actions. Each revelation was a blow, but also a bridge to deeper understanding between you.

Billie remained obsessively protective, but now you saw it for what it truly was: a manifestation of her fear of losing you. You set clear boundaries, insisting she respect your space and independence. Slowly, she learned to trust you more, to understand that true love couldn't flourish without freedom.

In the days that followed, you noticed that Daniel continued to try to reach out. He sent messages and attempted to arrange meetings, but you decided not to respond. You didn't want any more secrets; you wanted to resolve things directly with Billie.

One night, Billie suggested you go for a walk together, something she had always avoided out of fear of exposing you to danger. She was determined to show you she could change, that she could be the person you deserved.

As you walked through the park, Billie held your hand tightly. The full moon illuminated your path, and there was a moment of peace you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“I know it took me a while to be completely honest.” Billie said, breaking the silence. “But I’m trying. And I’ll keep trying, every day, for you.”

“I know.” You replied, squeezing her hand. “And I’m here, with you. We’ll get through this together.”

The night was calm, but you felt a pair of eyes watching you. A shiver ran down your spine. You quickly turned around, but saw no one. Billie noticed your tension and stopped, looking around cautiously.

“It’s okay.” She whispered, trying to reassure you. But you knew she was equally alert.

The walk continued without incident, but the feeling of being watched didn’t leave. When you finally returned to the apartment, Billie locked the door with extra care.

Once inside, the atmosphere softened. Billie prepared a light meal, and you dined together, the conversation flowing more easily than before. There was a renewed intimacy, a connection that seemed stronger because of the obstacles you were overcoming.

At the end of the night, Billie pulled you onto the couch and wrapped her arms around you, her eyes shining with an intense love, now tempered with a new understanding.

“Thank you for giving me a chance.” She murmured. “I know it’s not easy.”

“I’ve made mistakes too.” You admitted. “And we’re both learning. The important thing is that we’re together in this.”

She kissed you softly, her lips conveying a silent promise of a better future. And for the first time in a long while, you felt that maybe, just maybe, you could overcome anything – as long as you were together.

But as you closed your eyes and snuggled into Billie’s arms, a small voice in the back of your mind reminded you of the shadows that still loomed. Daniel was still out there, and Billie’s past could still bring consequences. You just hoped that when the time came, your love would be strong enough to face whatever came your way.

#wlw #billie eilish #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish imagine #billie eilish fanfic #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie eilish x you #celebrity imagine

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yuurei20 · 7 months ago

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Idk if you've talked about it before, but have you seen the voice lines for Crowley's card? At the end people were saying he implies HE'S the one who brought the MC to Twisted Wonderland👀

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question! ^^

I am not sure that that is how I would interpret his line!

The original Japanese is 「貴方みたいな勤勉で優秀な生徒がいてくれて助かっています。これからも問題児を“監督”してくださいね」

The form of the verb "help" makes this difficult to put into English...literally translated it may be something close to, "It's proving helpful to have diligent, excellent students like you available. Please do continue to ‘supervise’ the troublemakers."?

A vaguer translation might be "It helps to have diligent, excellent students like you," and I can see how that could be interpreted into the implication that he arranged for students like the prefect to be on hand for assistance.

But given the form of "help," I don't think there is that much depth to read into! :> There is nothing to insinuate that he is glad he brought the prefect here, or that he was involved in their being here at all.

Of course there is a lot that is still unknown about Crowley, and the theory that he intentionally brought the prefect over to make something happen (or to keep something from happening 👀) is a popular one (and very fun to think about!).

But if I were attempting to champion that theory, I personally would not use this particular line as proof! It could, of course, be setting a foundation so that a future reveal does not blindside the players 👀 But the line by itself is vague, which is probably by design!

And there were two more Crowley lines that I found interesting!

「私の全力を知りたい？随分と怖いもの知らずですねえ……学園長として心配になってしまいます」

"You want to know the full extent of my power? You certainly know no fear…as headmage, that worries me."

Crowley is not the first character to comment on the audaciousness/fearlessness of the prefect: Malleus has a very similar line but their phrasing is different, with Crowley saying 怖いもの知らず, while Malleus says 恐れを知らない. Malleus repeats this same phrasing at least twice in the original game, though it it written in two different ways on EN.

Both Crowley and Malleus' phrasings are two ways of saying something that could be localized as the same thing in English, but subtle turns of phrase are proving to be very important in the original game.

For example, when you set Crowley to the homescreen he will say, "私をお呼びですか？"

And this is an interesting parallel to Malleus', "僕を呼んだ?"

Malleus’ phrase tends to be rewritten as various different expressions on EN such as “You called?,” “Was it you who called me?” and “Did you need something?”

But in the original game he always uses the exact same phrase, which is different from Crowley’s “私をお呼びですか？” while meaning the same thing.

While it would normally not be an issue for a localizer to take something that seems repetitive in one language and give it more flair in the other, it seems that this repetition was intentional and maybe should have been kept consistent to the original game?

Especially because English does not have things like different words for "I" like Japanese does (Crowley uses "watashi" while Malleus uses "boku") to help tell one person's phrasing apart from another's.

EN experienced a similarly unfortunate problem with Idia’s, “Leave it to your big bro,” with the phrase getting rewritten into "I'll get you trilling like a canary" and "I got this!" on EN, presumably before Aniplex USA realized that it was being repeated word-for-word for a reason.

Is it possible that the information that Aniplex USA receives in advance is limited, so they just do not know which of these phrases are safe to change and which need to be kept accurate to the original game?

With all the variations to Malleus' "You called for me?" on EN, Crowley has the potential to be localized with a phrase that is identical to at least one of Malleus' multiple English-language interpretations. In the original game, however, Malleus' phrasing is consistent, and completely different from the phrasing used by Crowley, while meaning the same thing! (and the "same but different" pattern has the potential to be very significant 👀)

#twstask #twisted wonderland

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youngbounty · 4 months ago

Text

I’m not going to pretend that this crossover with the Teen Titans was good, because it was okay at best. Even so, this is still a very important piece of why I think Jon left the Legion of Super Heroes. It’s clear the Legion didn’t want Damian around, Saturn Girl more specifically, and it feels as if Jon just up and quit without a rhyme or reason. This very storyline the reason why I think he did.

This is the first time Damian is exposed to his own possible future. Despite this, his entire focus is protecting Jon. He knows that soul flare isn’t entirely Jon’s fault. During the entire story, Damian never once blames Jon for the doomed future. Thankfully, Clark seems to agree and that the soul flare happened due to Jon’s friendship with Damian.

Damian’s response is his promise to protect Jon and never push him to the point of having to choose between him and the world. Jon also makes the promise to always stay with Damian and protect him. This is the opposite response expected and impressed Clark. Jon knows what future Tim showed, but never once blames Damian. He sees it as a possible future that they can both prevent by sticking together, never splitting apart no matter how bad things get. Their loyalty is what saves that future.

The Teen Titans don’t vote Jon in after that future, proving further how flimsy their loyalty actually is. It shows how easy it is to push people away out of fear of a what-if future. Their loyalty throughout the story is clear from who they had been siding with the entire time: Tim. No wonder Damian’s Titans disbanded. With friends like them, who needs enemies, right?

This goes into why Jon left the Legion of Super Heroes. Right before leaving, Jon had seen what could lead to a foggy future for Damian. He likely saw a crossroad that could lead to the incident of Jon unleashing his solar flare. Suddenly, everything begins making sense. The choices are ultimately up to Damian, but it’s this moment Jon realizes is a true test to his loyalty. He could choose to watch Damian’s doomed future unfold or leave the Legion to save his best friend. By leaving the Legion of Super Heroes, Jon chooses to stay by Damian’s side during the worst of times.

These scenes here speaks volumes. It could be seen as Jon fearing of losing a friend or it could be seen as him contemplating leaving the Legion to unknown territory. While I’m not going to ignore Jon’s fear of losing his dad, I do think this is proof that he no longer is with the Legion. When it was Damian’s future, there were many roads to Damian’s future, but only one road Jon knew of his father’s possible death. The reason he couldn’t see pass a possible death for his dad is because he no longer could see any possible futures.

I truly believe that Jon left the Legion of Super Heroes to save Damian and keep his promise to always protect him no matter how bad things get. I have no doubt this was the hardest decision for Jon. He clearly loves the Legion and found interest in Saturn Girl. However, it was a sacrifice Jon had to make for the sake of a friend.

#dc comics #dcu #dc universe #dc #damian wayne #robin #jonathan kent #superboy #superman #jondami #damijon #super sons #batman #teen titans #clark kent #legion of super heroes

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theyellowhedgehog · 3 months ago

Text

This is a reverse robin AU! Or more like a parallel of the AU.

The thing is I have never finished writing a story to publish, or chicken out before publishing so I thought this would be perfect. I will write this in the form of exploring the relationship between Damian and Tim.

Read along and tell me what you think? And If anyone want to make this into a fanfic, feel free to do so, and tag me so I can see it!

How Damian join the Wayne

Damian arrived to his father doorstep at the age of 12 after being deemed a failed experiment by his grandfather. Because Talia has got attached to her first project, she lied to her father and secretly sent her son away to stay with his dad, Bruce.

How Damian got his junior hero mantle

Damian at 12 years old was as you expected the same as his cannon character. Bruce and him has plenty of fights, no one want to give way for the other. So against his father will, he dressed up in a kevlar armor he made on his own to fight bad guys.

At his first appearance, people didn't know who he was associated with. Then after seeing him together with Batman more often, the public give him a deared title, "Batboy"

Damian at 12 years old felt he finally prove something to Gotham. But then he grew out of that phrase.

How Damian and Tim meet

Tim Drake is the only child of Jack and Janet Drake. When he was ten, he overheard his mother and father talking about the illegitimate wayne brat.

Tim, himself, is a piece of work. He is never quiet, he is loud as a ten years old can be. Mom and Dad let him get away with many things and this made him an arrogant brat.

One gala day, he went up to Damian Wayne when the older boy was trying sneak a sip at the adult drink. "You can't drink that, you know?" Tim said with that annoying childish voice. Damian didn't care and chuck the whiskey all in one go and smirked at Tim.

But unknown to Damian, Tim is a tattle-tale.

"Mr.Wayne!! You son just drink a WHOLE glass of whiskey!!" Scream the ten years old from across the hall.

Their unlikely friendship started when twelve years old Damian tried to silence ten years old Tim by covering his mouth, which the younger one bit and in anger older threw him across food table.

It's safe to say that gala was an unforgettable one for Damian and Tim.

From there one, whether at the Prestigious Gotham Academy or at the Wayne manor, when you hear a high pitched wail and angry shushes, you don't even have to check twice to know its Damian and Tim.

Does Tim still love photography?

Yes, Tim has a love for photography since young, but he also has love for (wheels) Bruce Wayne's vintage cars.

Mom and Dad's rusty vase or priceless goblet? He didn't care.

Bruce's (vintage race car)? That was the love of his life. So as annoying and inquisitive brat, he crawl through a hole he dug and befriended himself with Alfred Pennyworth, then Bruce Wayne. Just after six months of his effort in befriending the owners, Damian arrived. Now he came to the Wayne manor with the excuse of playing with Damian.(But he just want to see the cars and photograph them to add to his scrapbooks.)

This went on for about six months. The first two months Alfred has to accompany them in fear that Damian might tick off and murder the young Drake. After observing them for two months, Alfred deems Damian to be Tim Drake proof.

Yellow Hedgehog, you said Damian behave the same as cannon, then why is he telorating Tim?

You need to remember that Damian is the first project that failed. On spending a little time at the League ( probs about 2 years?) and was sent away quickly after. Why was he sent away? Well, if you put the mind of a baby in a 10 years old, it cannot be called a successful project. And when the project throw temper tantrum like a human, is it consider a failure? Because Ra's goal for this project is not a heir, but to create a perfect clone of Bruce Wayne while he was at the league.(Do you guys know what I'm talking about?) I might come back to rewrite this...

So children get along with children most. In Damian's view Bruce was another person that restrict his freedom and constantly fight him to prove himself right. Which Alfred said, he acted just like Bruce when he was 10 years old.

Tim is constantly on his tail, and you have to be honest, having Tim around mean entertainment and interesting things happen, to a person who know nothing but cold hugs of Talia and a lab test tube. So with Tim, Damian behaved more like a child.

And Tim have this weird knack for turning the situation into his favor? Like when his enemies become his friend?

How Damian almost got his first dog

Damian is now 13 and Tim is 11.

As always when Saturday came, tiny footsteps running on soft padded carpet sounds as it stops in front of Damian door. But Damian didn't care and burrow deeper into the blankets.

The door swung open softly and soft footsteps got closer to his bed and stops. "Damian~~" Tim calls out in a sing song voice, "Let's take a tour to (vintage racecar) today !" and try to pull away the blanket.

Damian just groans, "It's Saturday, why can't you sleep like a normal child?" as if he was normal.

Tim nopes his ways, and hops on the bed and shakes the older boy. "Come on! You promise you would show me!!"

Damian holds on tighter to the blanket, "Can't you go by yourself? You already know this house like the back of your hand."

"Nope," Tim pauses and thinks, "That's not polite."

The blanket got stiff and gives out a dry laugh, "Yeah, right"

Tim pauses and looks at the lump of a blanket, "It's true, mom got me an etiquette teacher last week because I was being-" He imitates his mother nagging, "you are almost eleven now,Timothy. I will not have my kid act like an uncivil wild coyote on the table!" as he puffs out his chest and waves his pointer finger like his mother told him off.

Tim then falls silent because no noise was coming from the lump of blankets. And he wonders for a moment, "Bruce didn't let you get a dog?"

That when 13 years old Damian jumps out with still red eyes and a whine,"He thinks I would not be a responsible owner to a dog! Seriously!!"

Tim looks at Damian's red eyes, "Didn't you fake cry?"

This make Damian blushes and avoids Tim's eyes in embarrassment, "Of course not! That's embarrassing and humiliating!"

"Why?"Tim tilted his head in confusion, "It works with mine." he paused, "Well, until last month. They think a racecar is an unreasonable gift for an eleven years old."

"He said I can't take care of a dog because I'm too young!" Damian burrows into the blankets again.

"Then why don't I help? You just need to show him you are responsible!" Tim suggests. Damian narrows his eyes at his suggestion. "What do you want, I can see you brain scheming."

Tim grin, "Just told your dad to take us out on a ride with the racecar."

One week after convincing Alfred and Bruce to get Damian a goldfish so he can show that he is responsible pet owner, they agreed.

Tim comes to a visit on Wednesday( sometimes after getting the pet), and his eyes bulges when he sees the goldfish floating upside down. He had no time to tell Damian as he ran to the store and replaced it with another goldfish. Tim quietly went back home that day.

Another three week or so, Tim comes to the manor to see the goldfish in Damian's room floating upside down again!

Frustrated, Tim ran to a different pet store to get another goldfish. This time he did not leave and wait for Damian to see what the heck he does for two whole goldfish to die!

Damian and he talks and he SAW Damian putting a hand full of fish feed into the tank!

Tim was so angry that he fishes out the goldfish into a bowl and ran back to his manor screaming, "You don't deserve to have any pets!"

How did Tim find out their secret identity?Since there is no Flying Grayson yet, how did he figure it out?

That I will probably write later, if I stay motivated. This is great! This might be the most I have written in one sitting! There might /is grammar errors, tried my best. Don't come at me for my grammar.😎

Questions are welcome! But do not be mean in the comments.

PART 2 is now out!

#batman #damian wayne #tim drake #reverse robins #art #dc comics #parallels #artists on tumblr

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writteninlunarlight-years · 6 months ago

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Salutations! Might be a… oddly specific request? So feel free to throw it out if you don't like it! I've just had this idea floating in my brain for awhile and I think its cute.

So basically Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) makes friends with someone who is also really grief stricken over their last relationship. (I was thinking that they would be a widow/widower but you can go whatever route you want) They both find solace in one another and feel like they understand eachothers pain. They both get really close and before he can realize whats happening, Lucifer is head over heels and it hits him like a freight train when he realizes it. He wants so desperately to hold this person to his chest, protect them, and build a future together that neither of them had thought possible before; but he is also terrified of scaring them off if he does anything. Both of them are wounded, and Lucifer isnt sure how deep or raw those wounds are. So Lucifer just ends up turning into a puddle of a man when they are around.

Like I said, Ive just had this rotting in my head for awhile and I am not nearly skilled enough to do anything with it, sooooo have fun with it if it peaks your interest! <3

Broken Hearts Still Beat Again

"I may not be your first love, kiss, or date..... but damn baby, I want to be your last everything." -Unknown

Tw: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Failed relationships, fear of abandonment, learning to love again, taking risks, slight spiciness at the end

~Prior to the beginnings of the Extermination~

You can't remember how long it's been since it happened. Years, months, and days are far too long, honestly. All you could remember was his face, his sad, sad, lonesome face, and the grinning menace Adam beside him. Yes, that's right, Adam, the first Winner. You, too, were a Winner till all that time ago. How long?

Your husband, best friend, and closest confidant was also a Winner. You were Winners together. You two died in your sleep peacefully due to a shared illness. It was sweet, almost too romantic like St. Peter said when you two crossed the gates.

Then it happened; you don't know why Adam sank his teeth into you. Yes, you were an incredible fighter in the mortal world, teaching children how to fight for their safety and never to provoke. So when he came to you and invited you to the exorcist guild, well, you were happy to train young fighters to protect themselves. Your partner was even happier to watch you flourish in Heaven as much as you did in your mortal life.

Then you overheard Lute talking to an exorcist one day. You heard about the extermination of the poor souls, the damned being killed again and again. This news broke you. Who would remotely allow this? Who would stoop so low?

You called an impromptu meeting with Sara and Adam to inform them of this horrible act Lute was performing. The tyranny she was showing against the other angels to go down to Lucifer's territory and kill again.

Only things didn't go as planned, no see you did go to the meeting; you spoke your peace, and then they just smiled at you, eery creepy smiles, sent you on your way, and told you it would be handled. It was all quite odd; there was no demand for a trial, no need for proof of your words, nothing.

When you returned to your home where your husband was, it happened all too fast. Exorcists were grabbing you; Adam was telling your husband something; his face dropped, and he looked at you with hate. You were shouting, begging, pleading for anyone to listen to you. No one would, and you were flagged as a traitor right then and there.

You were taken to a ledge, and standing there, you looked into your husband's eyes, tears staining your face, your throat raw from screaming. You could feel the saliva strands between your parted lips as you whimpered and cried. You freed your arm from one of the exorcists and reached out to your husband; it was too late as he turned from you.

He spared one last look at you, turning back with tears in his eyes. You called out his name once again, and Sara spoke her orders of your treason against the balance of good and evil. Then, you were pushed off the ledge.

You began to fall from heaven, assuming a more permanent death would be treating you soon. You closed your eyes; you didn't want your last memories to be death or Adam or any of what just happened.

You thought of your lover when you two were young and carefree the day he told you he loved you. As you felt the rushing of wind and air surrounding you, this thought alone was your solace, and then it all went black.....

~~~~ Lucifer's Pov ~~~~

The day that Lilith left was a cold, cold day in hell. Well, not for everyone, but definitely me.

The woman I gave everything up for was gone in an instant. Without a word. Without a trace. My relationship with Charlie was far more strained and hindered now. I was nothing now. A kingdom all to my own and nothing of value now that the two women I loved the most were gone. What was I to do in this lone castle whither away?

I turned to the picture of Lilith and Charlie, and tears formed in my eyes. It all felt too surreal to much. She was gone, my family gone, my life gone, all gone gone gone. As I sat there and cried, fists beating into the floor below, my wails echoing through the halls of my now abandoned residence, I felt so empty.

That's when an imp came in, holding a letter from the angels above. It was time to sign our agreement on the executions. Maybe that's why Lilith left; I was so willing to save our family that I gave up on our dreams for hell.

I should have spoken to her and let her decide, but they threatened Charlie, so I had to act. I had to save my precious daughter, my pride and joy. That's also why I had to tell Charlie that her plan to 'save all sinners' needed to end. I remember it like yesterday, sitting at the table with them, breaking the news of the agreement I would sign soon. They looked so hurt, so betrayed.

I honestly was a failure.

I stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up before my meeting. Soon after my name is signed on the soul pact, the first and only angelic building will grace hell, and the clock will start counting down. I was prepared for my subjects to hate me, but my family, it was all too much.

There was nothing to lose now, though, so hell with it. I made my way to the opening portal to heaven. It's now or never. I will sign this and keep the ones I love safe, even if they never know.

I love you, Lilith, I love you, Charlie.

~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~

When you woke back up under a dark red sky, you figured you had to have fainted while falling to your death. Yet when you looked down at yourself, you were the same old you. The only notable difference was that your skin was no longer pure white. You had greyed out some, and your clothing was torn from your fall. Looking around, you saw a giant pentagram in the sky and a large white orb to the right. Was that heaven?

Standing on your legs again, your back was killing you. You began to walk anywhere; people here were very different from the Winners. Death, porn, canabalizim, all of it fully welcomed. This would take some getting used to.

As you crossed the threshold of the city, now standing in the middle, you heard a horrible noise. It sounded like a bell, but it was so loud. You turned to your left, where the noise was coming from, and there was a clock and some numbers; just above the numbers, it read 'days till execution.' that's when you realized it.

A building, the only building that looked like what you are familiar with in heaven. You were shocked it wasn't Lute causing tyranny. It was all of them, every single one of them, in charge.

You sank to your knees, realizing you would never be safe. You signed your sentence when you went to them with the information you learned. You were no longer a Winner...You were a Sinner, and your days were numbered.

You had something over everyone else; you knew how the angels fought and trained them daily. Using this knowledge to your advantage, you went through the town, trying to find anywhere you could start your new life.

~~~ FLASH FORWARD 7 YEARS ~~~

You were lucky when you ran into Charlie. She was a godsend if god was even real. The Princess of Hell had the same morals and values as you, which you respected. Vaggie was also a pleasant surprise; you could tell a soldier you taught a mile away.

She remembered you as well. She kept to herself till you three made it to a safe place, Charleis's soon-to-be hotel. Once Charlie was out of earshot and working on getting supplies to heal everyone, she confronted you.

Tears welled in her eyes when she asked what had happened. She was in shock when you explained how you ended up here. According to Vaggie, everyone was told that you died on a mission to hell.

The Sinners alerted Lucifer of your whereabouts, and he killed you; thus, in doing so, a protective force of angels was created. Fearmongering was the one thing Adam was damn good at.

It was broken to you by Vaggie that your partner had moved on with another. He was in love and happy with another woman, one Adam hand-picked for him. You were devastated again; years of promises, lost nights, and romantic meetings disappeared. He gave up everything because Adam told him to.

You two agreed that your past lives in Heaven would no longer be discussed that night.

Crying your eyes out long after Vaggie returned to her shared room with Charlie, did you swear off love by taking your wedding band off and locking it in a drawer.

It was no longer a hidden fact that Lucifer had signed the deal with the Angels, and it was far less hidden knowledge that the relationship between King and Princess was strained.

The rag-tag group of residents was growing by the day. Angel Dust was fun, and you could quickly tell from how he talked and looked he wanted a way out. Soon after Charlie's broadcast, Alastor and his group, Husk and Nifty, joined the hotel's crew. Though the Radio Demon was creepy, you knew something was eating him deep inside. Nifty was a riot to get talking to and always brought you exciting things she found while cleaning. Husk was a perfect bartender, and you knew he would keep your dirty secrets for you. He was the only one you confided your past in.

You supported Charlie wholeheartedly in her decision to overrule the exterminations. You were eager to help her prove that sinners could become winners. Look at you, for heaven's sake; if it could go one way, it had to go the other.

Sir Pentious was the last to join and was easy to talk to. He was awkward, but you loved his fabricated war stories and eggbois. Then, one day, he came along; you won't lie.

You were hesitant. I mean, he signed away Hell's right to life. You couldn't deny it, though; he was funny and ethereal. You swore off love, though, and you wouldn't let another break your heart again.

~~~~ Lucifer's POV ~~~~

When I got Charlie's call, I didn’t know what emotions to feel: sorrow, excitement, fear, jubilation. I was beyond myself, and as I finally answered the phone, all I could muster was, “Hey, Biiiiitch.”

Yeah, it was smooth of me to say that; however, it didn’t deter Charlie. She wanted me to come and visit her. I was over the moon; depression had nothing on me.

I looked at my hand as I was cleaning myself up and getting ready to go. Looking down and seeing that cursed band I once shared with the love of my life.

I found Lilith's ring left on her nightstand just days after her departure to who knows where. I couldn’t bring myself to take the ring off; it's all I had left of her; it reminds me to keep hoping she would forgive me; maybe I'll forgive myself.

As I made my way to Charlie's hotel, thoughts pressed into my mind about how I wanted this reunion to go. It never occurred to me how much Charlie may have changed. Was she still the same woman I knew before we fought?

Sighing as I approached the door, I realized it was now or never. Let's do this, baby. What's the worst that could happen? She hates me and leaves me forever like her mother did, and now I am forever alone? Hahahahah NO!

I entered the hotel door, and jeez, what is this place?

Putting a smile on my face, I approached Charlie and hugged her, introducing myself to her girlfriend. Woah, I like girls, too. See, we can bond. As I was making my rounds with Charlie, meeting everyone, I saw her….She was….gorgeous. I could tell from her looks that she wasn’t an everyday Sinner, and something was different about her.

After a brief and, might I say, victorious battle with this ‘Alastor’ fellow, I spent some time with my daughter, allowing her to show me around her hotel. As we stood atop the balcony, I made the first fatal error of the night. “So, CharChar, what is this all about?”

Charlie rolled her eyes at me and excitedly smiled, “It’s a hotel to cleanse and rehabilitate Sinners! I told you this, Dad!” The excitement on her face was genuinely adorable, but she couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow this. The elder angels would just hurt her like they did me. They already threatened my family once; I can’t let them do this again.

I knew by the look on Charlie's face that my reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. As I went to speak to her, a loud explosion was heard downstairs.

We rushed down, and I saw an opportunity to prove to Charlie why we couldn’t follow this plan. As I ran forward to catch up with the others, I saw the mystery woman again. She was fighting alongside Alastor and his demons perfectly; she was beautiful and brilliant in battle, always expecting the next attack.

Once the sharks were dealt with and the young lady who seemed to know Alastor left, I turned back to Charlie and attempted to plead my case. “See Charlie, look, they are all the same; Sinners will never be redeemed; they will never go to heaven.”

“You don’t know that, Dad, please.” The look on Charlie's face broke me, but this had to be done. I couldn’t let her get hurt.

“What makes you so sure, Mr. King of Hell, that these people here can’t be redeemed?” This voice was new and soft.

I turned to the mystery girl. Her eyes were lit with a flame. I could see how much passion she had for my daughter's cause. As I went to speak back, Charlie interjected.

“Father, I only want to do this for you, for my people. Your dreams are what gave me this goal.” I was taken aback. I was Charlie's prime motivation; my stories and goals helped her become this remarkable woman.

“Your daughter is twice the ruler of you; she's willing to save her people; what are you willing to do?” The mystery woman had a point. I was a coward, too prideful of what I had to allow it to fall potentially. I looked at Charlie, and a moment formed between us.

“Alright, let’s get Heaven on the line then.” I knew it was time to face my fear to help the people I pleaded for all those years ago. I may not be able to stand my ground due to the contract, but damn can my daughter and her friends do it.

While Charlie started getting ready for her meeting, I was a nervous wreck. What if something happened to her? I knew the cruel hands that played in heaven and what could be done.

As I was pacing back and forth in the lobby, a figure stood before me, a drink in hand, and the other extended a glass to me. I looked up, and it was her; she was still just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. I gently took the glass and downed the concoction in it. “Thank you, uh, my name is Lucifer Morningstar, affamed fallen angel and father of Charlie.”

“I know; I was here when everything went down.” She looked at me blankly. Of course, she was here. Jesus, could I be any lamer?

She snorted at my facial expression and stuck her hand out for me. “My name is Y/N; nice meeting you, Mr. King of Hell; it’s a pleasure. By the way, I only said all that because I knew it would strike a nerve in you. I learned from my past anyone prideful hates when their authority is challenged.”

In her past, odd, there weren’t a lot of demons here who A would let someone challenge their authority and live, so she must be powerful, or B, she is speaking of her mortal life. However, something about both of those options did not seem quite right.

I nodded gently at her and sat at the bar. She soon tended to the others in the hotel, and I began to observe her. She acted like a mother, telling the others what to and not to do double-checking the other inhabitants of the hotel before they left the building.

Hell, she even talked to Alastor on some sort of equal ground. Something was different about her, so so different. I looked at my hand again while I took another swig of my refilled glass. Setting the glass down, I started to twirl the ring. Would Lilith have been this good to everyone? Would Lilith have even cared?

I sighed; if I wanted to help Charlie, I had to let go of the past. I took the ring off, dropped it in the liquor, and went to the front door. As I reached for the handle, I was stopped by a soft hand on my wrist.

Turning, I saw Y/N, “Hey, one second, mister, you forgot this.” She placed the ring down in the palm of my hand. “I have been scorned by love too. Don’t get me wrong, I also took off my band long ago. However, I can say that though their memory is tainted now, you should enjoy the memories of good when you can. Helps keep the bad thoughts away.” She smiled up at me so brightly I couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it. Do say you seem like a swell mother figure to all these people here. Why tie yourself to this place if you don’t want redemption? I remember what you said earlier, ‘All these people’, excluding yourself.” She stalled, hesitating about how she wanted to answer.

I just shook my head and smiled at her. I began to walk away back to my home. As I made my way back I heard Y/N shout, “COME BACK SOON LUCIFER!” For some reason, I really liked how my name sounded from her.

~~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~~

You were sat at the hotel by yourself, Angel, and the others all went to a club while Charlie and Vaggie went to Heaven. You had time to think about the most recent occurrence in your life: Lucifer.

It was a whirlwind that day meeting him. So many emotions overtook you: fear, anger, an odd sense of curiosity. You couldn’t lie. He was attractive, and the way he was protective of Charlie was adorable. You never got to have children; your ex-husband never wanted them.

You don’t know what possessed you to speak to Lucifer like you did, telling him he was a lowly king. You used the excuse that you had done it to others in your past, which was valid; you and Adam argued a lot. Deep down, you knew, though, that's not why you did it. You wanted to protect Charlie and her dream.

Sighing, you made your way around the building, ensuring the halls were clean and everything was orderly. You still weren't fond of all the allowed things here in hell, so going out with everyone was a once-in-a-blue moon.

It struck you as amusing when Lucifer commented on you being a mother figure because that is how everyone saw you. Hell, even Alastor commented one or two times that you reminded him of his angel of a mother. You just wanted the best for everyone; it wasn’t fair to die and then be killed again.

You heard the lobby door open once you were done doing your rounds. Odd, typically, everyone stayed out way late, and the girls weren't expected back till tomorrow.

As you descended the stairs, you saw none other but the man plaguing your mind: Lucifer. Smiling softly, you met him at the base of the stairs, giving him a short wave. He smiled at you and announced that he figured everyone would be gone today and was going to help out Charlie. You snorted at him and explained how you stayed back to help but were more than pleased to allow him to keep you company. He took refuge at the bar, and you soon joined him.

You two talked for hours about so many things, from his life as an angel to your old mortal life. You guys even talked about the differences between Heaven and Hell. Hopefully, you weren't giving your old station away to him, but a part of you didn’t care.

By the time you two got to the dreaded conversation about relationships, you were inebriated. You recounted your betrayal to Lucifer, holding nothing back. From your teenage years with your ex till the day he turned from you while Adam pushed you. Lucifer looked so heartbroken for you.

He gently pushed some hair out of your face when he said, “I am so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I knew something was different about you, so you too fell from that dreaded cliff like I.” You nodded sadly.

Lucfier explained why he made his decisions and how Charlie's life was threatened if he didn’t end Lilith’s music and allow the Exorcist to come down. He told you something interesting about the clause of the agreement: No Hell Born Could Be Harmed In The Extermination Less The Binding Be Null And Void.

This was amusing to you; even after singing his people away for slaughter, he was still concerned the angels would trick him and harm his child. He was always thinking about those he loved. It was endearing.

How could someone leave such a handsome, kind, protective man? The thought even crossed your mind that Lucifer would have fallen with you if he had been your husband instead of letting Adam take the lead.

As these thoughts crossed your mind, you didn’t realize how close your two faces were getting. Before you knew it, your lips were touching Lucifers gently. Seconds passed, and his hands were buried in your hair, kissing you with a passion you never got from your ex.

As you two broke apart, the doors to the hotel opened again. Angel came running over to you, noticing your state of drunkenness. He apologized to Lucifer, stating you never really drank much and took you to your room.

You smiled softly as Lucifer said a quick ‘goodbye’ and ‘good night’ to you before drifting off to sleep. Your dreams that night were full of Lucifer, his beauty, charisma, and devotion eating you alive. You may have sworn off love, but for him to love you how he once loved Lilith would be beautiful.

~~~~~ TIME SKIP ~~~~~

Months had passed since your night with Lucifer, and a whole war between you at the hotel and the angels broke out. Everyone learned of your past in Heaven from Adam before he perished.

You felt free, no longer chained to the past that harmed you. Now you had something more to look forward to. Though you and Lucifer never spoke of that night again, you held the memory close. He loved Lilith a lot, and especially Charlie; for all you knew, when he kissed you that night, he was just imagining Lilith once more. It hurts to think that, but you must be true to yourself.

After Adam's carnage, it was awkward for you and Lucifer. You two avoided eye contact and only spoke when you had to. However, as time passed and you both pretended the night alone never happened, things changed.

You and Lucifer did become fast friends, though. Having shared a fall from heaven, deep heart break, and even more so a hotel together it was hard not too. It was hard ever to see you two separated from one another. Laughing, joking, talking, and even debating over effective ways to pull in more Sinners.

You two became more affectionate as well, his hand on the small of your back, him guiding you by his arm, or even you adjusting his cravat and making him his favorite teas. To onlookers, it seemed like you two were married.

It was so compelling that you two were married that even Charlie told you she would be fine if you loved her dad.

Love…That's such a strong word. Is that what you felt? You can’t lie. You fantasize about it. You were scared, though. What if he let you down like your ex did? Can you handle being a mom to Charlie, not just a figure, a real mom taking the spot Lilith left? That was a worry, too; what about Lilith if she returned? Would he go back to her?

Would you be left so suddenly again?

While your mind raced, you mindlessly swept the corner of your room, thinking deeply about this debacle. When suddenly, your door bursts open.

~~~~~ Lucifer’s POV ~~~~~

I was ecstatic after my night with Y/N. She was excellent, calm, cunning, and articulate. She also knew my pain of the angels turning on you. The kiss meant so much to me. I was finally feeling things I hadn’t felt before Lilith left.

Lilith….was I ready to move on? Could I move on?

When I closed my eyes that night, I saw both old memories of Lilith and the times we had, but also new visions of Y/N and all we could be. She was terrific; if only I could get to know her more and see how she felt. She also stated she swore off love, too.

Would I be included?

When the day came for the extermination, I couldn’t bear to turn on the news; I didn’t want to see Charlie's dreams get crushed. I sat and waited, staring at the clock. As soon as the chaos broke out, I was up and pacing.

It wasn’t just Charlie; I was worried about Y/N being there too. Yes, she was a fighter and trained those Angels, but what if the worst happened? What if you died protecting Charlie?

That's one thing he loved: how motherly you were for his daughter. Not that Lilith never was, but it was clear to him that no matter how hard life got, you would stand by those you loved side.

Why couldn’t Lilith have done that for them?

That was when I felt the tug, a complex, sudden pull. Half of the signed agreement shriveled; that only meant one thing.

I ran as fast as I could to the hotel; once I saw the carnage, I flew to protect Charlie. It was Adam, the man who turned the heavens against me, who turned heaven against you. Years of pent-up rage and a new passion for protecting Y/N overtook me as Charlie and I took down the angels.

Once the battle felt calm, everyone began looking for you and Alastor. Honestly, I could care less about the Radio Demon. He gave me bad vibes, but you were missing. You went in to save Vaggie from Lute; however, no one saw you anywhere when the building collapsed.

Shouting, digging through rubble, I heard Charlie yell out that she had found you. Sighing now that I knew you were alive and only minorly injured, we cleaned up.

With a bit of magic and a whap bam boom, we had a new Hazbin Hotel, oh and Alastor returned. I wanted to discuss your past with you about a potential us, but I couldn’t. You looked so happy now that the chains of your past were broken.

The next couple of months were odd, for sure. I couldn't stand to look Y/N in the eyes, and though I yearned for her, I couldn't bear the weight of rejection again.

I tried, though, to show her how much I wanted her in subtle ways. What was a once-stolen night became a close friendship. I could tell her anything and everything. She was like a breath of fresh air; she never denied any of the ideas Charlie or I had, instead helping make them better. With her and I’s past with heaven, we knew how to overcome the obstacles they would throw.

Before I knew it, I craved her touch and comfort, and she gave it to me. Small lingering touches of hands, hugs that lasted too long, small gifts and favors never asked for. I was falling and falling hard. She was everything I could want. I loved Y/N.

Oh god, I loved Y/N. I was a wreck seeking counsel from the only other person who knew me best, Charlie. She was so happy, begging me to confess and tell Y/N how I felt. Could I, though? Would she accept me? Could she take the new title of Queen of Hell?

As I lay in bed pondering the conversation Charlie and I had, thinking of the new memories I had made with Y/N, I was stuck. Confess and have a happy new life, or confess, and she leaves me, too. You weren't one to go, though I knew that. What if, though, you weren't ready?

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander; I saw Y/N in a beautiful dress at our wedding, Y/N giving me another child, and Y/N fighting alongside Charlie and me. That’s it; I can’t hold back any longer.

I dressed myself in my robe and marched my way to your door. I began to knock, but I heard nothing in the room. Sighing because I knew Y/N had to be in here, I busted the door open, and there you were, staring off into space so cutely.

Shit.

~~~~~ Readers POV ~~~~~

The noise startled you from your thoughts. There before you stood Lucifer in his robes. Smirking, You turned away from the man and laughed gently into your hand. “What are you doing here, goober? It's the middle of the night, and you are very underdressed.”

No questions were answered, though, as Lucifer approached you; he stood there staring you in the eyes. You didn’t know what this look meant, but it was intense. Had you offended him?

As you went to speak again, Lucifer placed one of his hands on your cheek, cupping your face. You looked at his hand and back up at him; you were breathing too fast. As you two looked at one another, no words were uttered; slowly, Lucifer placed his other hand on your waist.

You laid claim to his chest with your hands gently splayed there. Something in his eyes begged you to be closer and not push him away. How could you? He was holding you in a way that you had only dreamed of.

Lucfier moved closer to your face, your lips mere inches apart when he spoke, “Y/N, I love you. No, that doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I am fascinated, lust-filled, and desire you and you alone. I want forever to be with you, a time I only thought possible with one person who never intended to fill that role. A forever purely our own with our family. A future dedicated to following dreams and passion. Following our love. Will you stay with me, Y/N? Please stay with me.”

You were speechless, your mouth slightly agape, and you didn’t know how to process such emotions. You were overwhelmed and so excited. You knew if you took any longer to confirm or deny him he would leave and never speak of this, just like the kiss before.

You did the only thing you thought you could at that moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap. Kissing Lucifer this time felt just as good, if not better, than the last. Your hands tied in his hair, holding him close. His hands are keeping you in place, his kiss fierce and dominating. Before you knew it, he had his hands just under the cusp of your ass, prompting you to jump. As you did, you never broke the kiss.

Lucifer leads you to the nearest wall, kissing your lips and neck. This was everything you dreamed of, everything you wanted. Each kiss was a contract that you two would never hurt the other as your partners did.

You felt alive, like electricity was coursing through your veins. Every kiss made a new pattern in your heart, soon beating in time with Lucifers. The heated kisses died down and turned into soft, light ones. Placing your feet back on the ground, you hugged Lucifer close, his head buried in your neck and yours in his.

You smiled a large smile before whispering, “I will always stay by your side, Lucifer. You and Charlie are my reason, my purpose now.” You could feel his smile next to your ear without ever having to open his mouth.

You were so happy.

You two heard a shutter sound as you pulled away, and a bright flash erupted behind Lucifer. As you turned to the door, everyone stood there: Charlie was happy and clapping, Vaggie was giving a thumbs up, Alastor was holding the camera, Nifty was making gagging sounds, and Angel was smirking. You laughed wholeheartedly; who knew a broken heart would beat again?

My good friend @willowaudreykeyes helped me with the editing a bit! I appreciate the effort and time they put into assisting me. Even though we live halfway across the world from one another, you have my back!

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gotskamstuff · 3 months ago

Text

MY THOUGHTS (THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR AND A BIT TOO LONG) ON THE WHOLE “RUDY IS LEAVING THE SHOW/JJ IS DYING” SPECULATIONS

Sometimes I wish I was one of those people who enjoys tv shows and still is very passionate about it but without entering the world of the fandom ‘cause I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that all the things I’ve come to know about the cast in past couple of years have ruined my experience with OBX a little.

Even this whole “JJ is gonna die” speculation, let’s be real it’s not the first time we have discussed this in the fandom and we basically ask ourselves this question every season and yet now it feels different.

I don’t believe speculations coming from unknown sources and I don’t believe in rumors as a solid proof… HOWEVER again I’d be lying if I said that finding out that Josh Pate (one of the main producers of the show) has abruptly unfollowed Rudy and there’s seemingly something that happened between the two, didn’t stir up the fear in me that yeah maybe he could be leaving the show. Because let’s be real, the actors having drama is one thing, but one of the producers cutting ties with you IS A WHOLE DIFFERENT STORY.

This is why it feels different this time.

I remember genuinely fearing JJ was gonna die in S2 when in the trailer they showed his head wound and I was incredibly scared about it, but it was a “devastating” fear still with a tingle of excitement about the storyline involving a possible Pogue death and with curiosity on how the story could possibly move forward…but now? Now it feels completely disappointing knowing that IF JJ dies it will be simply because he wanted to leave and honestly it would completely ruin the show for me ‘cause to put it quite frankly I would lose my trust in the story writing.

I am in no way a snowflake when it comes to characters dying in shows, sometimes I even love it ��cause as devastating as it can be it can also be an amazing shock factor for the show but it needs to be done with purpose both for the story and for the character.

JJ dying for me would ruin the entire show and it’s not just because “omg Jiara” “omg JJ is my favorite character” “omg the show wouldn’t be the same” but because realistically it would ruin the entire arc of his character.

Regardless of who your favorite character is based on personal preferences, objectively speaking JJ is the best written character of the show and one of the characters who was given the most depth and one of the most interesting storylines, there has been a great amount of good writing when it comes to JJ’s character development and a character like him ending with death would be like throwing all that work out of the window.

I think it’s a pretty common thought amongst the fandom that JJ’s arc to end in a right way for his character would be to literally having him live his future that he so badly believed he could never have. For the whole show JJ has projected hos lack of a future and his impossibility to ever have anything good for himself, his entire story and growth was about him overcoming that and accepting he can prove everyone including himself wrong, to then end his character like “syke you actually do not get a future and you never get to live it” would completely destroy the entire arc of his character and nothing about his journey from S1 to S3 would have any meaning whatsoever looking back at it.

And I want to make it clear that IF (once again it’s still all speculations) JJ dies I still would not put ALL the blame on Rudy for leaving ‘cause actors leave shows ALL THE TIME and there’s an endless number of things you could write to take a character out of the picture especially for JJ who always had an element of unpredictability to him.

If Rudy was like “hey listen, I’m done with the show” the producers could have 100% put their foot down and still negotiate something reasonable for both parties to leave the door open on his character like “ok your choice free to go, but we are not killing the character…would you come back for the final 2 episodes of the entire show?”

And JJ could have tooooons of possible scenarios for him to leave: following his dad, breaking up with Kiara and leaving Kildare…the INSTANT they mentioned the surf trip in the show they had the perfect opportunity to use it as an excuse to make both JJ and Kiara or one of the two leave at any point to be lost somewhere in the world offscreen. So no it wouldn’t be all Rudy’s fault ‘cause there’s a lot of ways to mostly get rid of a character without killing him and closing the door for good.

This is probably gonna sound bad but I’d rather see the show end all together with S4 than seeing it getting dragged out for longer and longer meanwhile the main cast slowly leaves one by one and especially if the writing gets more and more superficial for convenience.

I HONESTLY HOPE THAT AFTER S4 ENDS WE’LL LOOK BACK AT THIS TIME WHEN WE THOUGHT RUDY WAS LEAVING THE SHOW AND LAUGH…but I don’t even know what to believe anymore. I didn’t believe it until I saw the producers cutting ties with him which realistically sounds like a “good life and goodbye”.

WISH WE COULD TURN BACK TIME TO S1.

#outer banks #obx #obx netflix #outer banks netflix #obx s4 #obx4 #outer banks 4 #outer banks s4 #jj maybank #jiara #rudy pankow #this is why we can't have nice things

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messiahzzz · 7 months ago

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Hello! I love your meta-analysis of BG3 and share many of the same opinions concerning our boy, Gale. I have an interesting question for you concerning the orbs "volatility" in relation to intimacy (both physical and non-physical). I used to believe it was cannon that Gale couldn't engage in physical intimacy because the Orb may detonate, but when I played as Gale I was able to sleep with Astarion. This is in contrast to when I played as Karlach and couldn't touch anyone.

So, all of this is to ask whether Gale's dialogue at the tiefling party was him protecting himself emotionally or if he truly thought that any excitement would trigger the Orb (ironic given they are fighting for their lives daily)? Additionally is this why the Weave scene only features an imagined kiss rather than a physical one?

thank you so much for the questions!! i’m very glad you enjoy reading my posts 💕

gale: with my condition being as volatile as it is, i fear any undue, er, excitement, may tip it over the edge. so to speak.

i do believe that gale was being honest in regards to avoiding physical/emotional excitement concerning the orb. his first and foremost priority is to make sure to avoid as many potential triggers as possible, being fully aware of the catastrophe that will occur if he doesn’t keep an eye on his condition at all times. fighting is inevitable given the situation the group found themselves in. on top of that, every single day for the past year alone has quite literally been a life or death situation for him, wondering how much longer he can hold on until the orb inevitably takes over. i also think that he has experienced his fair share of horrors and tough fights in his past, considering his status as an archmage, as well as him being mystra’s chosen. even with his now diminished powers & the tadpole in his head he still remains in his element. magic is his life, it comes as easy to him as breathing.

gale: i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet.

more importantly, the devnotes also proof that the orb is indeed the reason for his deflection during the tiefling party:

gale: i see. then perhaps we see each other in the same light after all. a resplendent one, flush with warmth and anticipation, but one which i must shy away from, for now. node context: still flustered, but pleased to learn you like him romantically. then getting to the point - he can't do anything until the orb is dealt with.

if tav directly tells him to cease the perceived flirting, he will reveal that he considered their relationship to be a "budding romance" at this stage.

player: if this is an attempt at flirting, you should stop. i'm not interested. gale: right. understood. you shall hear no more on the subject from me. gale: consider this budding romance thoroughly nipped. though i hope our friendship need not come to such an abrupt end.

yet at the same time, he is also completely flustered if tav is the one who initiates the flirting:

player: do you like having your belly rubbed? gale: the pleasures i experienced in mystra's embrace go far beyond the pleasures of having one's tummy tickled. i remember once, she took the smallest piece of the weave and made it into- gale: wait. are you saying... nodecontext: taking the question seriously, missing the flirtatious side of it. nodecontext: realizing that the player was flirting, getting flustered

regardless of which flirt option tav chooses to pick, the outcome remains the same:

gale: you know what, i think i've clearly had far too much wine. and you've had nowhere near enough. i think this is a conversation best held back on - for now. nodecontext: flustered, hesitating to explicitly say what he thinks you were offering, then backtracking altogether

while battle naturally is always accompanied by the unpredictable, (as well as the dread of facing a yet unknown enemy) i don’t think he experiences quite the same amount of trepidation as where matters of the heart are concerned. or perhaps it would be more accurate to say it’s an altogether different kind.

the budding relationship with tav is once again unfamiliar territory for him after all those years he went without mortal intimacy, years that have been spent with mystra instead. it’s understandable that he exercises caution at all times, knowing what’s at stake if he lets go for but merely a moment. i also believe gale to be a character who generally goes “all out” once he chooses to be intimate with someone. we know that he doesn’t do casual trysts, friends-with-benefits arrangements, or anything of the sort. instead he wants to build a deep connection first. gale is a romantic through and through, he only feels comfortable being intimate once it has been explicitly established that the emotions he feels for tav are indeed wholly reciprocated. gale puts his whole heart into everything he does, he would’ve felt that it was a disservice to tav if he was only able to give them (according to him) even less than the remaining fragments of a broken man he has to offer — once he decides to give himself, he gives himself fully.

another added factor, however, is that the tiefling party simply wasn’t the right time for him yet, even if he already felt some attraction to them. part of him perhaps would’ve liked to go a bit further, be more direct about his growing fondness for them. spending a night together, just enjoying each other's company, talking until the sun rises, perhaps even sharing their first kiss if he felt that the timing was right — but i don’t think he would’ve considered this to be the appropriate stage in their relationship to sleep with tav either way. orb or no.

gale also tells us this much during the Last Night Alive scene, as well as during the conversation after you just met tara. in an ideal situation he would’ve taken his time, courted tav properly, said it all better.

gale: if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken the time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short.

gale: i always imagined what it would be like when you finally got to meet her. this wasn't quite what i had pictured. gale: i thought we'd be in waterdeep. you, curled up before a crackling hearth while i prepared us a ridiculously extravagant meal, served with a batch of my homemade hundur sauce.

time is short.

i always headcanoned gale to be on the demi spectrum. that he needs to build a close bond before sexual intimacy is something that even remotely occurs to him. tav is an anomaly in this regard — he knows he deeply cares for them, emotions that developed even in the short, few months they've known each other, and that he doesn’t have the luxury of time to let their relationship unfold in all the many ways he dreamed of. all he knows is that he loves tav, wholly and truly. and that, by the gods, he has to make the most out of the few extra heartbeats he’s been given. even if his death is inevitable, he will at least be able to show them the depths of his affection. leave them with shared memories of pure tenderness, a knowledge of a love so profound that it might perhaps even prevail way beyond his passing.

player: what about all we shared together? are you just going to give up? gale: this isn't giving up it's securing victory, at a price i am willing to pay. and everything we shared can live on - with you.

i wouldn’t necessarily say that gale was trying to “protect himself emotionally” during the tiefling party, but rather acted accordingly to the horrifying circumstances the tadpole gang (and especially he himself) find themselves in. i don’t think gale ever really considers a romanced!tav as someone he needs to be guarded around. evident in the way he immediately throws all doors open without any sign of hesitation once he has their assurance that their love is indeed mutual. gale pours his heart out to them regardless, not knowing whether his feelings are truly returned. he is not a character who shies away from being vulnerable by any means. he is an open book, that tav is free to peruse in as they see fit. a slither of trust is all he needs.

during the weave scene the connection abruptly fades once tav either imagines passionately kissing him or holding his hand during a romantic walk. a scene that again shows that he is genuinely stunned by what he’s being shown. after all, it doesn't happen often that gale of waterdeep is at a loss for words.

gale: i... i didn't think... narrator: *you perceive quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, trepidation, and finally... elation.* gale: sorry, i wasn't expecting... but it is a pleasant image to be sure! gale: most pleasant, in fact. most welcome. nodecontext: warm, with real affection

i do believe the weave scene in particular to be a turning point for him. sort of an epiphany. the first moment in which he realizes that he actually might like the idea of eventually being with tav as perhaps more than a friend. that he is filled with fondness whenever they’re near and that he is excited to see where their joined travels lead them next.

player: when i said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps'. what does that really mean? gale: if i recall correctly, the waterdhavian dictionary of the common tongue of faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. gale: you see, i'm not a big believer in fate, but i do believe in serendipity. gale: life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. gale: you're one such event that, one day soon perhaps, i'd like to embrace.

given my personal hc of gale being demisexual, i genuinely don’t believe that he entertained the thought before that. he was way too preoccupied with other more pressing concerns. his overall condition, the tadpole, mourning the loss of his powers, still dealing with a lingering sense of loneliness and melancholy. a yearning for better times, as well as disillusionment of being cast out and left behind, even if he has already worked through his romantic feelings for mystra and their unilaterally ended relationship by then.

gale: i'm hardly pining. it's been a year or more since mystra cast me aside.

tav’s advances genuinely catch him off guard, which is, according to my interpretation, also the reason why their shared connection abruptly faded. a general loss of focus. gale immediately bidding tav goodnight to reflect on the situation and sort through his thoughts again shows that this wasn’t how he expected this moment of teaching to unfold. it seems rather uncharacteristic of him to initiate a kiss in this specific scenario. tav was testing the waters, whether it happened intentionally or not, and gale found himself pleasantly surprised by the turn of events.

i also believe that we generally shouldn’t use origin playthroughs as a cross-reference for the actual canon. larian approached each story with more or less detail and there are already so many inconsistencies present that have been pointed out by other players. instead we should see origin pts as an oc kind of scenario — larian handing us the reigns of each origin character, a way for us to have fun and figure out all the atrocities we could possibly come up with. sort of like playing with our own set of barbies. (“go nuts, show nuts” as tunglr staff put it back in the day) for example, playing as w*ll doesn’t lock you out of raiding the grove and spending a steamy night with m*nth*ra right after either. which is something that contradicts everything he stands for/something he wouldn't naturally do. even if you try to play an origin character as close to their canon portrayal as possible, you will still encounter several contradictions and discrepancies during the duration of your game. larian sadly also has a chronic pattern of overlooking gale in terms of content, fixes, and overall responsiveness. so it’s easy to conclude that his origin story simply hasn’t been fleshed out to the same extent & treated with the same amount of care and consideration that certain other characters received. (which is awfully ironic considering he’s been proven to be the most popular origin character, but i digress)

basically, this has been my very long-winded way of saying: the reason why gale refuses to be intimate with tav pre-orb stabilization is indeed because he is afraid of the orb accidentally detonating during a moment of carelessness and/or indulgence, as well as because of gale’s own preferences when sex & romance are concerned.

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 meta #long post #asks #gale's romance is the most delicious kind of slow-burn #or well. it would be if larian had actually bothered to put the same care and resources into his story #instead of merely cutting content and deciding to do a 180 #it speaks #please don't check for grammar i wrote this in a rush

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bewilderedsblog · 1 month ago

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VILLAINOUS THEORY: The powerpuff girls are a threat?

YOU KNOW HOW FLUG KIDNAPPED MOJO AND TRIED TO “improve” HIM INTO A BETTER VILLAIN? Along the fact that Townsville is a test site for the monsters flug creates! If Blackhat gets THIS pissed at the powerpuff girls and are targeting their home frequently you know what that means…? They could be a threat. Why them of all characters you may ask? For starters, These are the only heroes Blackhat gives THIS much of a verbal beatdown as if the beef was something personal but with what I will present to you soon will show this isn’t just insults but rather him being butt hurt.

Like I said earlier Townsville is a test site for Blackhat organizations monsters and as you can see in the original episodes, the powerpuff girls beat these monsters up effortlessly and quickly 99% of the time and even have their own ways of fun with The corpses after winning. This shows that his monsters aren’t a threat to them but let’s not forget the connections he has with their enemies…MOJO, FEM FATAL, and HIM. Surprisingly, HIM has the bigger connections with black hat which means that he’s most certainly powerful enough to have meetings with black hat.

Once again, the powerpuff girls beat up HIM on whatever occasion he starts causing trouble along with the other enemies Blackhat associated with. But in the ppg episode Blackhat shows extreme rage when finding out mojo accidentally assisted in creating the girls and does one of the most iconic scenes in the series by kidnapping him and having flug inject him with an unknown liquid (which was revealed to have failed) not only did he kidnap mojo but the narrator as well! Something that the ppg universe needs to rely on which was shown in a comic and episode! Finally, he has contact with the mayor. What the mayor is using Blackhat organization for is unknown but it’s likely that he’s using them to remain mayor of Townsville.

By the looks of it, it seems like they’re taking a lot of measures to ensure the girls stay in the dark and ensure they don’t see what’s behind the scenes. Think about it! Testing monsters againts them, making contract deals with their most powerful enemy, making a deal with their “boss”, and kidnapping the being that ensures the story moves along. I feel like Blackhat organization is trying to neutralize Townsville!

You must be wondering: “what threat could the powerpuff girls be?! They’re just a bunch of kids!”

Well you’d be right but the girls have shown an incredible list of abilities and feats that not even Blackhat possess! Have you ever seen him run around the planet in less than four seconds? Nope! But more realistic here, I think the strongest advantage the girls have is that they have the power of love on their side. We’ve seen that they can be revived back to life and injury from it not to mention that it’s the sole reason why they look adorable and proper (proof: episode “knock it off” and this comic panel) black hat on the other hand feeds off of fear and anger. Love overcomes all, no matter how bad things get love will always come around and overcome any negative emotion!

Now you would be thinking: “why dosent Blackhat deal with them himself?”

Simple. He’s arrogant and self absorbed. We all see how much he uses mannerisms and threats to get others to do his bidding (mostly out of fear) so how do you think he’d feel about three preschoolers potentially beating him? He’d be pissed off and angry, in fact he is! From that clip alone we can see Blackhat clearly hates their existence and way of life and doesn’t even bother to remember their names (also eye beaming flug for correcting him about it) it’s clear that he HATES the idea of the girls beating him. So what does he do? He takes measures to keep them out of his way and to keep the girls from knowing about his existence. Why not just kill the trio off and get the job done? He can’t take the risk. What if he does loose? What if he only wins out of luck or because they made a simple mistake? What if they killed him after winning? All of those things would be humiliating aftermaths for him and as a person who cares too much about his self image it wouldn’t be likely for him to do that.

#villainous #powerpuff girls #black hat #dr flug #CN theory

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loverboy-radio · 8 months ago

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love's valley

Character: sebek Zigvolt

warning: male reader, romantic love, slightly suggestive(i think), my dylsexia, kissing, adopting, IDK. not proof read, help me

might add more characters and make this a AU of sorts.

request's open

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look now at the world that sends fear across the young and death to all, the world we see is horrid to all that enter and all that leave. as the pain of exsistance will forever be within our reach, we shall find what we are looking for may not life but death as well, so lend me your hearts and lend me you dreams as this is a tale of those that have lived past that wynorrific place and have entered a valley, but not just any valley but one of beauty and love of all kinds.

in a place so isolated and with aberration so stong it can feel as though it is amanamoically in so many ways. with how the tree's follow that of what looks of though as if it tries to pestilential us with it's deucedly vein like stucture of it's trunk and branches with flowers that make you go stark-ravingly mad, with their cold yet firey glow from the brightly coloured petals of poisin, or how the dirt looks as though it has secret's and knowledge that would put the library of alexandrea to shame as it shall never understand the complexity of the knowledge that it holds within the specs of unknown shine of wisdom. yet also a sky of dawn that brings light to this darkned forest.

so if you look in deeper you shall find a small cotage of two that hold love that is shrouded with a love that one would seek all life to find.

now let's see what this cottage holds, shall we?

"BABE HAVE YOU SEEN MY BOOTS?" a light green haird man yells to his husband as he was planing to do an expetidition with his husband to the nearby town for some esential that they can not craft themselves.

"Sebek my love you don't need to yell i'm in the kitchen" a man of similer age tells his husband who we now know as sebek as he walks up to him to give him a kiss on the lips, as he passes him his boots with a cheeky smile on his face.

"oh." sebek says with a surprised look on his face towards his husband with a hint of a blush on his face from the kiss. "that is where they are. and why did you have them?" sebek said locating the question derectlaly to his lover.

"i was fixxing the sole's of which you had worn out to the point of fixing." said the man who still had a humured look on his face. "i also have the list of things we need to get and i would like to know if you want to add anything?"

sebek looks at the list and the items, reading them but stopping at something they did not useually get. to just ask his husband. "why do we have baby formula on the list? we're both boys?"

wait a minute

does this mean

"THE ADOPPTION PAPERS HAVE BEEN ACCEPTED AND WE CAN ADOPT A CHILD!?" sebek screams in absolute joy from the fact that they will both finally be fathers, as this is something they have been trying to get done for years.

sebek looks at his husband expectantly for the response he was hoping for, for his husband to nod.

this is to mark the beggining of a new path to treverse through that he can't wait to do with is husband.

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parkermunson · 2 years ago

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Siren!Eddie Part 4

1 / 2 / 3

summary: After your 'meeting' with a creature only mentioned in stories, you've convinced yourself you've lost your mind. But days later, and no sign of your mysterious beach friend, the creature comes back. Both your and his curiosity are peaked, until it's interrupted.

t/w: he's a literal siren so mentions of eating people, blood, [healed] wounds, eddie's tail gets punctured, human/siren curiosity, siren!eddie is overprotective of his human friend >:l

a/n: Ahhhh!!! The long awaited part 4 is here!!!!! I'm so thankful this little series has been received so well ❤️ Thank you for the love and feedback. I tried tagging everyone who asked, but I might have missed a few. I'm new to taglists, so I apologise. Anyway, here's sweet siren!Eddie. [2.9k words]

The walk back to your side of town was uneventful compared to the experience in the water, though it was welcome for that very reason. Your open wound was healed, yet the bruises remained and stung with each step, the only proof anything had actually happened at all.

The boy in the water at your beach didn't seem to take your interest anymore, but you gripped a shell tightly in your palm regardless. It seemed stupid now, but maybe giving him a gift before warning him of the creatures in the water was better than running up and screaming in his face.

Did he need warning though? The creature never hurt you, the opposite actually. It healed you! And then... sunk into a ball. You want to believe the creature is harmless but your childhood scoldings would say otherwise. Everything you just did was beyond the rules, beyond your own comprehension. It had to be fake, right? A figment of your imagination after overheating from the walk over. Perhaps you were delusional, losing your mind after all this time.

Why did you stay in the water with that thing so close? Why didn't you run? Are the stories about the creatures luring humans with a song true? You didn't hear any song, nonetheless saw the creature above water. Only the shiny curls of the flowing hair, hair that definitely looked familiar but unplaceable. The fingers that looked so otherworldly but possessed the soft touch of curiosity without fear. A tail that shined with an iridescent rainbow in the sun, but gleamed the brightest blues you've ever seen.

–

Days had gone by without sign of the boy. You haven't stepped a toe in the water, partly due to the anxiety. Convincing yourself it was a trick of the mind was easy, believable. But the soreness and lack of scabbing when you still had dry blood stains on your sandal was harder to explain.

It almost felt lonely for the first time on the beach. Despite no one ever being there prior, the boy seemed to have a lasting effect for the short time he was there. The warm sand wasn't as comforting as before, and the sound of the waves gliding up the shore didn't echo as a calming background soundtrack anymore. It stirred your emotions between sadness and anger. Anger that the town's superstitious ways possibly got to your new friend, sadness that you were now back to being the only person to step foot on the beach.

The anger was taking over, boiling in your veins as you stared out at the vastness of the water. Your brain was done with sensible thoughts, now turning against the water itself. Damn the water for ruining the friendship. Damn the water for being so mysterious that people make up stories just to explain strange occurrences. Damn the water for having so many secrets. Damn the water for scaring everyone away. Damn the water for housing unknown creatures that strike fear and cause harm. Damn the water for hiding whatever or whoever you met that day. Damn the water for not bringing him back.

Before you knew it, your foot was kicking at the incoming waves in frustration. The silliness of the action didn't overshadow how good it felt. You kicked again, relishing in the movement. Like throwing a pebble into a canyon, the action meant nothing, but the movement of your foot meeting the push of water brought a nostalgic feeling. One that reminded you of your small baby feet splashing in a pool, surrounded by family long gone now.

Perhaps this was why you craved the presence of the boy and creature to return. The overwhelming loneliness had gone unnoticed before, but seemed deafening now.

You stepped further in the water, willing for the creature to return. It had to, you needed it to.

He kept his distance for a while. Staring at you on the beach as he sat beneath the shade of the overgrown trees at the very end of the beach. Every bit of him was called to you. His waking thoughts pondered your movements while his dreams centered around you seeing him for the first time without the veil of the water. The dreams would usually involve that sweet voice of your's saying words he recognized but couldn't quite remember the meaning of.

Water droplets danced down his scales as he sat on a long-dead overturned tree, the trunk suspended above the waterline with the roots on land and the branches in the water. He was hidden enough under the canopy of leaves on the surrounding trees. Far enough away to blend in with the plants and water, but close enough to keep a curious eye. You spent almost everyday staring out at the water, glancing back at the entrance to the beach, sighing when neither gave you what you yearned for.

When the anger finally came to a head, you ran to the water, kicking it with a force he had never seen from you. It would have been humorous had it not tugged at his heart. He wanted to swim into your arms and assure you it would be okay, whatever it was you were upset about. Part of him believed it was because you wanted to see him again. He wanted that desperately to be true. With each kick you gave to the water, he felt the same emotion toward land.

Damn the land for hiding you for so long.

You walked further in the water, head held high and palms open at your sides. It felt like a welcome. A calling to him. Despite his earlier hesitations, he hopped off the tree and into the water. The sound of splashing alerted you to him, and though he was still a distance away, you flinched back. He continued on slowly toward you, his head nose-up above water. His eyes were trained on you, waiting for you to give any sign you would run, but as he grew closer your body relaxed. It was as if you were waiting for him all this time, like his hopes were true. Each inch closer, he could visibly see the tension in your muscles dissipating.

You stood in the shallow water waiting, the waves only coming up to your knees. He knew you hadn't seen his full face, and he wanted to change that, but he also knew to take it slow. This was new for him, as much as it was for you. His anxieties over losing you due to his non-human features crept under his skin, tingling at the back of his skull. He stopped deep enough in the water to sit comfortably with his tail tucked under him, his back hunched over so he could keep half his face under the water. It was your turn in this dance now. And he hoped with everything you would make the move.

Your legs felt like jello as they sludged through the water toward the boy. He didn't flinch as you drew near, a good sign. You paused two feet in front of him, taking in the visuals he allowed you to have. His soft eyes, the bridge of his nose, the curves of his cheekbones, his hair. The same hair you saw underwater on the other beach. Was he... Has the creature and the boy been the same person this whole time?

You held out your hand, the nerves raging under your skin prevalent in the unsteadiness of your arm. His brow knitted, eyes glancing between your face and outstretched hand, until he finally understood. His long nails appeared like razors rising out of the water, followed by his webbed fingers. His palm met yours delicately. You stared for a while at his hand, and he at yours. The difference in texture, colors, temperature. It was invigorating.

After a moment, you enclosed your hand around his, giving it a small shake. "Nice to finally meet you." His brow furrowed again before repeating your movement, his eyes focused on your joined hands. You smiled down at him as you released your grasp. His hand slid back underwater but your's remained outstretched. You can't officially meet until you see his face. You needed to know what he looked like, to put a full face to this creature haunting your thoughts.

Your hand slowly moved toward him, dipping underwater to find his chin. You waited a moment, in case he wasn't ready. But he straightened his back, his full face appearing from the water. The gills on the side of his neck wiggled as he breathed in the air. He was beautiful.

His pale neck led down to thin shoulders, slender collar bones jutting out at sharp angles. His skin had a bluish hue in the sunlight, an almost ghostly cast. A drawing on his upper chest caught your eye. A tattoo?

He looked up at you with wide eyes, waiting. Your hand remained on his chin as you bent down on one knee to get a closer look at him, the cool water seeping into your shorts causing a shiver to run through you, or was it him? Your eyes meeting this close felt right, like this was meant to happen. You turned his chin to the right so you could investigate his gills, now unmoving above water. Your other hand reached out and lightly grazed them causing him to flinch away with a smile. Did that tickle him?

Your hands on him rose his body temperature greatly, he almost felt like he was on fire. The flames eating him from the very tip of his tail, scorching him up to the placement of your fingertips on his chin. This felt so right, it was almost unbelievable his people kept him from this experience for so long.

After you explored his gills, he grabbed your chin and looked at your neck as you did to him earlier. He admired the veins running underneath the skin, the lines of blue and purple just underneath. The pulsing of your blood moving there. Your skin so smooth and soft, the lines and bends of your neck leading down to your collarbones. He brushed his palms down the curve of your shoulders and on the sides of your arms. You played with a curl of his hair.

You looked at him with such softness, he could never understand the need to hide from you. Years he had been alone, when you were right there on land. All this time a human with no ill will toward him. Damn, damn the land.

His patience never wavered as you examined his tail, playing with the scales, brushing the tailfin with amazement. Each touch caused a reaction from him, a preen almost. He would smile back at you with tight lips, but you didn't want to push his limits.

"Can you talk?" He stared back at you, unmoving. The blank expression on his face gave his answer. "So that's a no." His soft eyes took in your every movement, watching with curiosity as you tried figuring out next steps.

A sharp stab from your pocket hit you as you leaned forward on your knee. You reached in, pulling out the little shell for him. He gasped, finally opening his mouth to reveal his sharp teeth. Two rows of needles lined behind his lips. Lips that curled into the sweetest smile when he gently took the shell from your open palm. Though his teeth were unnerving, his giddiness at your gift made you smile back. He examined the shell closely, despite it only being an inch and a half big. He looked at it like it was the greatest gift he's ever been given.

His brain was going miles a second, not fully understanding why he felt the need to do it, or what it meant, but he choked out, "t-thank you-u." He realized too late what he had done, using his voice in the presence of a human. His kind only used their voices to lure humans to their ultimate death as a meal. To hypnotize them into a trance unbreakable by anything but the voice. He looked up in fear, only finding you in shock, your mouth hung open with wide eyes to match. You resembled the humans lured into the water when they realized, far too late, their destiny. He'd really done it now, ruining everything. He'd never forgive himself for bringing you harm.

His body temperature began to sink again, the heat leaving his body in shame. He dropped his gaze down to the water sloshing around his torso. He wouldn't know how to break the trance, having never done it himself before. Would you stay like this forever? Would it eventually wear off? Would he have to kill you to break you out it? The thought punched through him, the air feeling heavy in his lungs for the first time since the first moment he ever sucked in a breath of fresh oxygen.

"You can speak!"

He looked back up at you, finding utter joy and excitement on your features. The light in your eyes somehow brighter now, despite the sun not moving. Your happiness was contagious. The smile took over his lips, curling the corners of his mouth into a wide smile.

He had no idea what he said, but you clearly liked it. "Thank you," he repeated, the words foreign on his tongue. He didn't like their taste, but for you he would say them over and over. You practically vibrated at hearing him speak. He repeated the words again until they didn't taste so bad in his mouth.

Your smile fell as he continued repeating his gratitude. This must be the only phrase he knew. Something he picked up from overhearing humans. He could speak, but he didn't know words. The thought of teaching him warmed your heart, but the reality of coming to the beach daily to teach him was laughable. Afterall, you would only be teaching him to benefit you. To talk to you. What about him? He probably had a whole family to get back to. Other creatures waiting for him back in the depths of the water, worrying where he may be. Yet here he was, sitting with you, as he had for many days before (though you didn't know it until now).

The boy, the creature. The same being. It was impossible to believe this was your current situation. Sitting next to a mythical creature, one that not only isn't as dangerous as you've been told your entire life, but has the enthusiastic friendliness of a toddler. His wide eyes continue searching your body for differences. When he finds a freckle, he marvels at it, touching so gently. He attempts to rub it off, his brows knitting when he's unsuccessful. He's adorable, and you want to show him the world!

The world... a beach dropoff away. It's cruel and fearful of anything it doesn't understand. Anyone could look over the dropoff and see a creature caressing your body, thinking you're under the spell and in danger. The truth couldn't be farther from that, but no one would understand.

Regardless of your wishes, a voice shouts from the shore, "WHAT IS THAT?" A moment of silence is all you have for the realization to kick in. The shrill of multiple screams and the advancing steps through water as the townsfolk rush to 'save' you drown out your voice as you whisper to him, "I'm sorry."

He's wide-eyed, confused whether to protect you from your own kind, or let you go. Protecting you meant killing humans. He's never done that before. Though, he absolutely would if it meant keeping you safe.

But you stand, rushing toward the oncoming crowd as an attempt to cut the humans off from getting too close to him. Two large men sneak past you and head right toward him. He knows this is goodbye forever as he glances back at you. The final visual he'll have of you, holding your arms out in front of you as the other humans are shouting in your face, surrounding you, grabbing you. They pull you away, but you look back for him.

Your eyes meet, if only for a moment. The only thing he sees on your face is complete fear and as he ducks underwater to swim away, he knows why. One hand grips the edge of his tailfin so harshly, he's sure it's ripped. Another hand finds his arm as he fights against the restraints. Each strong whip of his tail rips the fin further sending shocks of pain and adrenaline through him. He can hear you screaming. Your cries sound pained, scared.

The water continues splashing as he fights for his freedom. He catches a glimpse of the shore, it's closer now. He's being dragged to it one step at a time. A crowd of humans has gathered at the edge of the water, their scent overwhelming. He thinks he can smell blood. Waves splash around him in crimson, his fin bleeding into the water. His head is full of energy– swim away, eat, scared, hungry, pain. You.

He catches sight of you, held back by other humans. You're not safe, fighting to reach him as multiple arms slide around your body as a barrier. Tears roll down your cheeks as you scream for him to be set free. Tears mean pain, and that's the last thing he ever wants you to feel.

His pupils grow dark, swallowing his iris. He's nearly to land now, and these humans look like a buffet.

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#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #siren!eddie #siren!eddie munson #siren au #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #mandi writes #parkermunson

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squwhims · 4 months ago

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Joker Out Members Ranked on Their Ability To Aid Someone Bringing a Ring To Mordor

Very niche ranking, but I was cleaning out my google account and remembered that I made a google slide titled, "The List: Fictional Men Who Make Me Kick My Lil Feet Up & Giggle"...number one man on that list being Samwise Gamgee. In that, I made a compare and contrast section and one of the slides is ranking the fictional men on how good they would be at making the journey to Mordor.

Obviously, these guys here are not fictional, so take this with nuance since I am pulling these opinions out of my butt, but I love it when people post their thoughts on Joker Out as (blank), so I will too!

Number One: Nace

Nace definitely has it in him to get someone through this type of situation. This ranking is not based on "physically could he get you to and from Mordor" (because the whole premise of this trip is that a man under 120cm managed to do it), but I do think Nace's strength would be an added bonus. I think that Nace has the best emotional capabilities for this quest. Out of everyone in the band, I feel like he is the most grounded and down to earth member. I think he would have the patience to deal with the emotional toll of the quest, like, it would be difficult to get through, but I feel like he has a very persevering spirit and would be able to survive off of memories of the things he loves back home, and he'd always try his hardest not to make the situation worse with negativity. He's got humility and I don't think he would judge someone for breaking down on the quest. I have no lived proof of him being a safe man, but he seems very safe, you could trust him to guard you while you sleep. He would stay loyal through the whole trek to Mordor and he would tell wonderful stories at the campfire that comfort you and remind you of where you started.

Number Two: Jure

Now, this ranking is based more on "could he physically get you to and from Mordor" because although he doesn't capture the pure-of-heart, patience, down to earth, loyalty that Sam represents, by god...he would plop you down on his motorbike and the trip would take no more than a week. I raised myself the question, "how would he handle the emotional toll though?" and I raise myself the answer: I don't think you'd have time to dwell on the fear and homesickness and dread. I think Jure would be a busy-body on the quest. I think he'd be foraging, cooking, cleaning all the gear, putting unknown plants into his pipe and smoking it just to see what happens, and he'd be climbing EVERYTHING. I simply don't think there would be space in his quest to feel anything. Closer and closer to the doom of Mordor he would be speeding things up. He has the least amount of apparent Sam-like qualities, but this ranking is not called "Joker Out members ranked on their Sam-like qualities", this is based purely on COULD HE GET YOU THERE IN ONE PIECE?! Jure could simply walk into Mordor and that is enough.

Number Three: Bojan

This was a real toss up, because on one hand I feel like he has quite a bit of persevering, mental strength, he is a bit of a silly goose and would be a hoot to travel with...but on the other hand I feel like he is leaning closer to the Frodo side of the spectrum deep down. The quest would start off with high sprits, you know, he'd be leaving home with a smile on his face and pep in his step. He'd be so excited to see the elves and the world and meet new people...but then one bad thing would happen at the start of the second quarter of the quest and he would begin to crack. Gandalf/other mentor figure in this hypothetical situation would die and that would be his breaking point. Working through the emotional toll of the trek would be HARD. Physically, I think he could do it...but mentally...idk man. The guy already gets panic attacks on the regular and I don't think he would be of any help to someone who needed to dispose of a ring in the fires of Mount Doom. Maybe that would be beneficial to the team because he'd be down in the dumps with you despite the fact that YOU are carrying the weight of the world around YOUR neck. So idk, we're all in this together? I'm sure he'd have good moments. He would definitely try his best to stay positive.

Number Four: Jan

Too Frodo coded to aid someone on their quest to Mordor. I'm not saying this to wimpify Jan, because physically, I do think he would be capable— really, the quest is just a long walk in the woods, so I feel like he would start the quest off doing fine. Sight-seeing with a cane in his hand: delightful. It would be a very quiet quest, but he'd be present. However, I feel like the pressure of getting to Mordor would be weighing on him the whole time. I don't think he is built to carry that much weight in his heart all alone. The fate of the world resting on his shoulders? He's gotta get his buddy across the world and through countless dangers? Doesn't know if either of them will survive? Once you start, there is no going back? Yeah, no. I don't think Jan is built to play the Sam role on this quest. He is Frodo. Someone is gonna need to be there to pick him up when he falls face-first into a bog due to lack of will to live and cut him free from spiderwebs and shit.

Number Five: Kris

Gonna be honest, I don't think Kris would have went on this quest. If Gandalf told him he had to go with Frodo I think that Kris would have said no. He has assessed all the potential dangers of the quest, he doesn't have anything to prove, he doesn't even really like Frodo that much; he would say no to going. Of course, it is mandatory that he goes and he gets forced into going. I think that Kris would have a good time with the elves, his brothers and sisters in height. Yeah, he'd have a great time with them. You'd be on your deathbed getting healed after being stabbed and Kris would be getting philosophical with the elves, learning archery and shit. He'd be feeling pretty good after that and more at ease going on the quest, but I don't think he would really care about you. Like he doesn't want you to die (because that would mean that now he'd need to hold onto the ring) but he decided a long time ago that he is working through his emotions on his own, and you are working on yours alone. Not a bad quest buddy if you are stoic. This sounds really mean, I don't mean to be mean!! He'd make a really great Legolas!

#joker out #sorry the post is so long #I'm just unbearably wordy #feel free to rival me on any of these rankings because my opinions are open to changing #also you don't need to know anything about Lord of The Rings to speak on this #can he or can he not motivate someone through a walk to hell? That is the question #I would love to know people's thoughts and opinions <3 #nace jordan #jure maček #bojan cvjetićanin #jan peteh #kris guštin

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coltermorning · 10 months ago

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Of Love and Loss Ch. 11 (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: After narrowly escaping with your lives, the trip goes on without further trouble as the weeks begin to add up. To pass the time during a snowstorm, you and Arthur exchange questions over a bottle of gin.

Author’s Notes: Nothing like a little alcohol to make you admit your feelings to yourself :) Arthur and reader both get drunk in this one. Chapter eleven of this one.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, minor character death, loss of parents, blood and injury, grief/mourning, survivor guilt, strangers to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut, graphic depictions of violence

AO3 Link

Of Love and Loss

Eleven: The Gentle Act of Teaching

Word count: 5574

It has been a month since we started this journey and, as I assumed it would, it has come with no shortage of setbacks. Rambling like we do, I have seen a lot in my time and maybe even grown used to the pointless violence of it all. The wilderness is unkind and man more so, but I haven’t given it much care or thought until now. Now it seems I’m only leading a woman just to show her how cruel this world can be. That haunted look on her face will stay with me for the rest of my days.

Arthur rolled his shoulders, trying to undo the persistent ache that tightened them. Riding three days without much of a break to speak of had worn on his body, his mount, you and yours. In fact, it was so wearying you hadn’t said a word to him since the night before.

Your grief seemed to come in waves. This time it was pulling you back down into that shell of yourself you had been, unspeaking, unreacting, seemingly doing all you could just to make it another day. It was tough to watch, but Arthur didn’t have it in him to cheer you up. He was too worn down himself. That, and there was another nagging reason in the back of his mind he hardly let in for fear of letting it eat at him—that this was all his fault. He couldn’t do a thing about what else had happened to you, but he’d lost his head in that town. The mere thought of that slimy bastard calling you out like that had him bristling even now, fingers twitching with the need to shoot something. That nasty little look in his eye had been why Arthur had drawn iron in the first place, so fast it was more instinct than any sort of decision. That same look that had said plenty without words, that said the man felt he was owed something from you which warranted him following you out of town. Arthur didn’t care to ponder whether the man would have followed had he not threatened his life. It didn’t matter now anyhow. He had killed them all, exposed himself for what he really was. All because he saw red at the mere suggestion of someone wronging you. For protection’s sake, he had done his job. But it was obvious that you needed more from him than that. Your near silence since his shooting those men was plenty proof of that.

The truth was, Arthur suddenly felt that the side of him that town had revealed was glaringly wrong. It was a strange feeling, like denying the truest part of himself. But it gnawed at him now, that who he was did not have to be defined by his talent with a gun, but by the possibility of being something more. That the man he wanted to be became something he actually pondered. Things used to be about survival, about protecting those he held dear and nothing else besides. When had that changed?

As Arthur looked sidelong at you riding beside him, the empty stare on your face like that of a corpse, he knew. He had never had someone pure-hearted enough to warrant the believability of some better version of himself. With the gang, with Mary, there had only ever been a separation of good and bad, white and black, and he was always caught on the latter side of those things. But you made him think he could push beyond that, into some unknown middle ground. That look on your face was making guilt curl low in his gut for the first time in a long time at the act of taking lives. So he would push, do his best to shield you from it all. For you were good, and you deserved to remain so, lest he die trying to make it truth. If he didn’t try, no one would. Then you would be left like this—empty. And he knew enough about that to be determined to keep you from it.

The fourth day riding away from that terrible place and those terrible people, Arthur finally relented his pace. You had stopped here and there in the meantime, but never for a full night. The tiredness threatening to roll your eyes shut was testament to that.

Before the sun had even set and Arthur had finished with the tent, you laid back on the hard, thankfully snowless ground and fell asleep, the empty bliss of it like a gift.

When you woke, the sky was already lightening above you. You’d slept the whole night through, mercifully dreamless.

You looked down, curious over the warmth surrounding you despite the cold air, then remembered the bison coat. It was doing its job. The wind could hardly touch you with it on despite your poor judgement in sleeping outside the tent. And, like a pair of fools, it seemed Arthur had done the same. He sat against a nearby tree with his knee up, a gun in his lap and his head lolled down in sleep. Like he had every intention of standing guard but had let his exhaustion get the better of him. You couldn’t blame him.

No, the past few days had been anything but easy. You had been so plagued with guilt and worry and shame and regret the whole time it was a wonder you hadn’t given up. Given Arthur your mule and laid down and died right there in the dirt. In fact, the mule had been the only measure of happiness tethering you to the world at all. She still was. Though, sleep had helped clear your helplessness some. Instead, you were left feeling like you could go on but that there wasn’t much point in doing so. There was only brutal, unknown life ahead of you. And just like every interaction with strangers on this trip, that terrified you. The only comfort you’d known since losing your parents had been Arthur’s steady company. But that wouldn’t always be there. And, it seemed, you weren’t cut out for simple comforts anymore. It was time to grow up and see the world for what it was—unforgiving.

After plenty of rest, the pair of you packed back up and set out again. This time, you went two weeks without a break in routine. You passed over into Nebraska in the meantime, plenty of snow and cold following you in. You finally admitted to Arthur just how far you had left to go, nearly midway into the state, with no small measure of annoyance resulting on his part. But he agreed nonetheless, saying he had come this far. At least the railroad would tie into the trail soon, and he could take it back down to Denver instead of riding all the way back alone to join up with his gang.

His gang—you still hadn’t grown used to that. You hadn’t brought up the subject of his killing those five men, though it often crossed your mind to. The only thing stopping you was the fact that he didn’t owe you a thing, squeaky clean reputation included. In fact, his killer instinct had probably kept you alive thus far. Your judgement would be no help. If anything, it would just set you two to arguing again, as you often found yourselves doing. And the fact of the matter was you were tired of arguing. You were tired of a lot of things.

When the trees finally seemed to give up their steady growth, leaving behind nothing but wide open plains and brutal cold, Arthur stopped midday for the first time in a long time. The snow was blowing in sideways, and you nearly groaned in relief when he stopped his horse and swung off of her, saying, “Forget it. I ain’t freezing my balls off just to wait ‘til nightfall to do it again.”

You gave a pitiful laugh and dismounted, your legs like ice picks themselves when the pain of reaching the ground shot up them.

You and Arthur cleared a circle of snow for your camp, then built the tent and the fire. Arthur had been carrying kindling and a bit of wood for miles considering there wasn’t much of it to come by anymore, and you were impressed with his campfire skills when he got the thing burning despite the pelting snow. He had built it on the far side of the tent so that the canvas was blocking the weather, and when the flames began small then built, it took all you had not to shove your gloved fingers and your booted feet right into them.

You were both huddled close enough to the fire that Arthur suddenly took to laughing, calling you both idiots for being out in this kind of weather.

You managed a faint smile. “Montana got a lot colder than this, but…cold is cold.”

“Cold is cold,” he agreed. “How was it up there anyway? In the winter.”

“Brutal,” you admitted. Lots of days spent inside, chores finished as quickly as possible, week-long stretches where you didn’t know if the food would last. But it always did. Lucky you and your father were good hunters, your mother a good motivator.

“It wasn’t always like this,” you went on, having to raise your voice to talk over the wind. “It was sunny and pleasant some days. But still cold. The snow never left.”

Arthur just hummed his acknowledgment before holding his hands out to the fire, black gloves and harsh light eating up the reflection of the flickering flames.

After long enough, he reached around to his satchel and pulled out a box of cigarettes. Not a day went by he didn’t do this, whether for habit or enjoyment you couldn’t tell. You didn’t have the experience of smoking one to know. But when he lit one, the butt smoldering to life beneath his inhaled breath, it suddenly seemed like just the thing to warm your bones. So when he offered, as he always did regardless of how many times you turned him down, you took one.

“Well,” he said with a drawl. “Finally become a bad influence, have I?”

You didn’t respond, sticking it in your mouth, rolling it over your tongue. It was faintly earthy. Bitter.

You watched him light another match. He brought his hands over to you, cupping them around the flame to keep the wind from snuffing it, touching the match head to your cigarette.

You didn’t know what you expected to happen, but nothing did.

He grinned at you. “You gotta breathe in. Just- small breaths-” he added, but too late. You had taken in such a large breath that your lungs crumpled beneath it, burning from the inside out. You took the cigarette away and coughed and coughed, the feel of it like hellfire trapped inside your chest.

He was laughing at you, but you couldn’t quit coughing enough to berate him for it. You did hand it to him, the disgusting taste and the horrible feeling enough to convince you that it wouldn’t be your new pastime. Then the cold set back in, frosting over your throat and combining with the burning feeling in your lungs. All in all, it only served to make you feel worse.

Arthur’s chuckling finally tapered off. “At least you didn’t get sick on yourself.”

“Does that happen?” you asked, hoarse.

“Sometimes.”

“Lovely.” You wrapped your hands around your knees, scooting closer to the fire, glad for your shaggy coat. It was nearly unbearably cold, but your only other option was inside the tent, and without the fire it would only be colder.

You watched Arthur smoke both cigarettes with ease, one after the other, like he needed their smoke to breathe.

“Why do people do that anyway?” you asked, still miserable from the rawness in your throat.

“What, this?” he said, putting the one that had been yours to his lips and taking a long drag. He blew out of his nose like a dragon would, smoke billowing out of both nostrils.

You didn’t answer, knowing he was just trying to show off or work you up or both.

He finally turned to you. “Calms you down. Takes the edge off.”

The first time he’d offered you one, he’d said the same thing. What edge had he been so desperate to dull back then? And each day since? It wasn’t hard to figure now—cold like this could drive any man to madness. It was certainly making you want to run circles around the camp like a crazy person.

“Same as anything I guess,” he went on, blowing more smoke. “Why does anyone do anything? Alcohol, sex, drugs, they’re all the same.”

You didn’t quite understand the sex part but let it pass. One conversation with him about it was enough to last you a lifetime. But the mention of alcohol had you suddenly desperate to try that too. You had before, what little you’d been able to get your hands on up in the mountains, but it was never enough to take much effect.

“Would alcohol warm me up?”

He eyed you, that boyish gleam returned. “Not necessarily. Though it can make you too busy thinking about other things to remember how cold you was before.”

Anything would help at this point. “You got any?”

He huffed a laugh and stood, walking over to his horse. The poor animals were both standing with their backsides to the wind, close enough to share body heat. Arthur pulled a small glass bottle from his saddle bag and shuffled back over, kicking snow as he went. He tossed you the bottle, and you caught it, flipping it. It had no label.

“What is it?”

“Gin. ‘Fraid I drank all the whiskey.”

You eyed it. “How can you tell? There’s no label.” The liquid was clear, tinged green due to the tint of the glass.

“I can tell,” he said with amusement. “Can’t afford the labeled stuff.”

You eyed him for that, wondering about your saddle and bridle and the mule standing beneath them. He was either exaggerating, or you owed him more than you thought you did if one bottle of good gin would put him out. He just inclined his head toward the bottle in your hand with a slightly upturned mouth, not giving whatever worry you had about owing him a moment’s thought.

You uncorked the top with stiff, numb, gloved fingers then lifted it to your lips. The burn of it was immediate. Almost as bad as the cigarette. You forced yourself to drink it down but let out a wincing cough after you did.

“Christ. Are all the vices so terrible?” you asked, wiping the excess off your mouth and handing the bottle back to him. It had to be a punishment, for people to drink that. Addiction born of the need to punish one’s self.

Arthur was snickering again, but this time you joined him in it.

“Tastes smooth to me,” he said, lifting it to his own mouth. You watched him drink it down with near reverence, his eyes half-closing as he did. Savoring it. He brought the bottle down and examined it. “Shitty, but smooth.”

You leaned over and snatched it from him. Like hell was it smooth. It was as cutting as swallowing ice. But the aftertaste wasn’t near as bad as the cigarette had been, so you took another sip, letting it cut all the way down.

Arthur took it back. And after some back and forth, minutes passed and enough swallowed to dull its burn, he stopped you from taking it again. “Slow down there, or it’ll come right back up. I ain’t letting you put out the fire with your own sick.”

You cringed at the thought but felt that familiar defiance within you stand up at the challenge. You went for the bottle, but he snatched it away before you could grasp it.

“Don’t be dense,” you spat, going for it again. He again held it out, far enough you couldn’t reach it. And the resulting smile curving across his face was making you mad enough to tackle him for the damn thing.

You were about to lunge for it when he stopped you with a hand held out. “All right, all right, quit it. I’ll make a deal with you.”

You already didn’t like where this was going. To hell with the gin. Now you were just angry. You crossed your arms at him.

He grinned then said, “You answer a question, I’ll give it back.”

As annoyed as humoring him made you, you just shrugged.

“Agreed?”

“Go on,” you snapped. Better to get it over with, get the bottle back and walk away so as not to have to deal with him anymore.

He thought on it a moment, taking another sip as he held your gaze, an amusement lighting his eyes you didn’t much care for. Then, “What’s something you never told anyone?”

That you still wished you had died with your parents. That life didn’t feel like it had much meaning after their deaths. That one of the sole reasons you went on was because the man staring back at you had given a damn at the right moment. But you didn’t want to go down that slippery slope, not right now and not with him. So you reverted back to your younger years, to the girl who was full of life and grit and the ability to get her way. What had you kept hidden even from your parents?

You landed on it then hesitated, heat staining your cheeks from embarrassment.

“Spit it out,” he said accusatorially, sensing that hesitation.

“I…” How to word it and not sound ridiculous? “When I was a kid I…fancied the postman.”

Arthur burst out laughing.

“Shut up,” you said miserably.

“That’s your deepest, darkest secret?”

The deepest, maybe. Certainly not the darkest. But his laughter was slightly contagious given how stupid the confession had sounded, so you just said with a laugh, “I was little! He was handsome!”

“I’m sure he was,” Arthur said, tilting his hat to you in obvious sarcasm, his grin never leaving.

“And I never got to go to the post office,” you went on, unsure why you were explaining yourself. “So when Pa let me come with him, the hours that it took to get there, it was…it was just nice to see the man is all!”

Arthur was veritably howling with laughter now.

“Shut up!” you said, leaning over and shoving him. “Like you never had an infatuation with a girl.” This did seem to sober him some, and that gave you an idea.

“Give me that,” you snapped, yanking the bottle away. “And it’s your turn for a question.”

“Well, I never said-”

“Yeah, and I don’t care. You’re answering one.”

He settled back with a sigh but didn’t protest. So you took a swig of gin for courage and looked him straight in the eye. “Who taught you to shoot so well?”

Surprise crossed his face, lining every inch of it. He had obviously assumed you were going to ask about said girl, whomever that may be. But no, you wanted to know how he had taken down five men in a matter of seconds.

His face turned contemplative. Then, “No one, I guess. I always had a good eye. Good aim.”

“That aim was better than good,” you admitted. And the reference to what had happened back in that town seemed to sour his mood. He snatched the bottle back and took a long pull from it.

“Yeah, well, you’re either a decent shot or you get killed pretty quick in my line of work.”

His line of work. On the opposing side of the law, where bullets were aimed at you as often as a dirty glance.

“Do you ever get scared?” The question pushed out before you could stop it.

Arthur just looked at you, face tinged with mild curiosity.

“Not really,” he said. “Not anymore. But—” He tipped the bottle at you. “It ain’t your turn.”

You rolled your eyes and sat back, looking into the flames instead, knowing he would fire off another stupid question whether you got on to him for it or not.

Sure enough, he spoke, the amusement in his tone not lost on you. “You ever get into trouble up in them mountains?”

“What kind of trouble?”

You shouldn’t have asked. The smirk he shot back was enough for you to know he didn’t mean the kind where you got lost in the snow, where your life was in danger.

When he didn’t answer, you sighed like he usually did, drawing it out. “A few times. Once for this,” you said, taking the gin from him.

“What, getting drunk?”

“No, they caught me before it got to that point. I raided the liquor cabinet. It wasn’t much, a bottle of whiskey and some wine. But I was trying both when Momma and Pa came back from town early. They gave me hell for it.”

Arthur snickered. “How old were you?”

“Twelve,” you answered. “But it’s not your turn,” you said sweetly, making him shake his head, though his smile never left.

You took a sip of gin, wondering what it took to be drunk. But you wouldn’t waste a perfectly good question asking Arthur about it. Instead, you asked him something you had wondered since the night after leaving that trading town.

“Why didn’t you buy another bedroll? At that trader stall.”

Again, Arthur seemed surprised by the question. He took some time to answer, gesturing for you to hand him the gin. You did so, and he took another long pull of it. Long enough that you wondered how often he did this, drinking his thoughts away.

“It honestly didn’t cross my mind,” he muttered, staring into the fire. “I was trying to keep an eye on you when I was talking to that old croak. Weren’t thinking about it.”

You let out a breath of relief at his response. You had assumed he’d spent all his money and resources on you, that he couldn’t afford one. And, as it stood, he had been using the very edge of your bedroll ever since, both of you colder than you cared for but too prideful to cling together for warmth like you had that night after the wolves. So you had thought all this time another bedroll had been neglected at the cost of the coat on your back. But now that you knew otherwise, you didn’t feel quite so shameful. And you were grateful, too, that it had been because Arthur had kept such a watchful eye on you.

He took another long drink from the bottle, and you watched him, watched his throat work and his mouth purse with the harsh liquid. This man who you thought you knew—you didn’t really know him at all.

Arthur looked over and caught you staring.

“What?”

You shook your head, pushing the thought from your mind. Not because it scared you, but quite the opposite—you always assumed he was bad, that he was the low-down outlaw, and at every turn, he proved you wrong.

“Nothing.”

He chuckled lowly. Then, “You ever kissed anyone?”

“Excuse me?” It was all you could manage through your embarrassment. Not this again.

“Couldn’t ask it any clearer,” he said, about to take another drink. But you snatched it away before he could, taking a long pull yourself. Drunk. You needed to be drunk.

“How much of this do I need before it blocks out the sound of your voice?”

“So, no then,” he said with that god awful smirk.

You drank again.

He laughed. “Easy there.”

“I told you,” you said, voice hoarse from the harsh liquor. “There wasn’t anyone up there to kiss.”

“Not even the postman?”

You could have hit him. Instead, oddly enough, you laughed at that stupid smile on his face. “No, not even the postman. He was twice my age. Maybe more.”

“Hm.”

“What?” you fired at him, the bottle clutched tightly in your hands.

“Nothing, just…” He smiled again, his teeth showing. “Imagining it, is all. That life you led.” He pried the bottle from your clawed grip, smiling as he brought it to his lips. “Sounds…boring.”

You tried not to think about his mouth kissing the bottle, his mouth kissing anything, as you replied, “It was what you made of it. I enjoyed it.” At your nerves, you reached over and took the bottle away before he was even done drinking. He made a noise of protest, but it didn’t register before you had the bottle at your own mouth, trying desperately not to think of how his lips had just touched the same spot.

When you brought it away, you looked at him. Really looked at him, all notion of it being improper to do so suddenly lost. “There are other ways of enjoying yourself, you know.”

His brows rose high, either at the way you were looking at him or at the implication in your voice.

After long enough, he said, “You plan on enlightening me?”

“I…” Your eyes dipped to his mouth before you took another long pull, the bottle blocking your view of him. Shaking loose the thought that began to plague you. The urge to experience something new, something you were afraid would be addicting in its own right, alcohol aside.

When you didn’t respond, just pulled the bottle back down and looked to the fire, Arthur said, “I can’t imagine it would be much beyond snow sledding or the like all the way up there. You telling me that’s the secret to happiness?”

There it was, an out. A diversion to the path this conversation had led you down. And in anything other circumstance, you would have taken it. But for some reason, you were starting to believe that drunkenness snuck up namelessly after all, a haze of intuition lost.

You looked to Arthur, to the soft amusement on his face, to the casualness that seemed to always weigh on his shoulders and make its way to his mouth.

“You could teach me.”

“Come again?”

Your eyes dropped to his mouth again, seemingly of their own volition. Then words spilled out of you like gin from a bottle.

“Kiss me. Show me how.”

His face softened. Surprise, realization, a bit of embarrassment. Then deflection as he chuckled, his face tingeing redder in the gray light than the cold could account for. “Nah, you don’t want that,” he said, like he was trying to convince himself. “Not your first-”

“Kiss me,” you said again. You couldn’t imagine it being anyone else in the world. There was no one else you trusted. “I wouldn’t ask if that were the case.”

He looked at you then with such raw surprise you wondered when the last time anyone had shown him such affection was.

He stared at you, and you stared at him, and before you could ask if his brain had shut down entirely, he looked to the fire and said defiantly, “No.”

You scoffed. “Come on. It’s not that big a deal. Just think of it as teaching me something new.”

“But it ain’t that,” he fired back. He still wouldn’t look at you. “It’s…kissing someone to learn something and kissing someone because you want to are two different things.”

“Exactly,” you said, taking another sip of gin. “If it‘s just for learning’s sake, what’s the problem?”

He shook his head, disgruntled. “Forget it. I ain’t doing it.”

You groaned aloud, unbelieving he was being the stick in the mud for once. “You know, for an outlaw,” you said, standing, pointing the bottle at him. “You’re awfully honorable.”

He let out a barking laugh like he didn’t believe that in the slightest but still didn’t take the bait. The stubborn fool.

The ground swayed a bit beneath you as you added, “And cowardly.”

“Excuse me?” he asked, the question poised somewhere between annoyance and a threat. But he had finally looked at you at least.

“Woman asks you to kiss her, and you won’t even consider it.”

He stood now, swiping the bottle from your hand. “You’ve had enough.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” But you couldn’t have pried the glass from his grasp if you wanted to, your vision starting to swim. “You don’t want to kiss me that’s fine, but don’t tell me what to do.”

He laughed that annoying laugh again. “I ain‘t kissing someone who can barely keep her feet.”

“Oh yeah?” you said, stepping over to him to prove a point. Close. You could have leaned over and kissed him yourself you were so close. In fact, the thought was a breath away from being turned into reality when he lifted the gin to his own lips, blocking you, his eyes catching on your mouth. Or maybe that was your shoddy vision making things up.

When he brought the bottle away, he was grinning. “Real impressive, being able to walk.”

“Shut up,” you said, but didn’t shove him like you wanted to. His closeness was…distracting you. And any forceful movement would likely land you on your backside.

“Tell you what,” he said, shifting his weight so that he stood even closer. Not backing down from you in the slightest, that cocky grin lighting his face. “You answer one more question, and I’ll kiss you.”

Your face burned with those words, like your body was realizing this might actually happen.

When you didn’t respond, his grin went wider. Feral. Then, “Tell me your name.”

Damn him. Because he knew it was the one thing you wouldn’t give him.

“That’s not a question,” you said simply, holding his eye.

“Come on,” he coaxed. “Why don’t you want me to know it?”

Now it was your turn to grin. “Because they were the last people to call me that.”

Arthur was confused by your smile despite your words, his brows pinching together. And you said without hesitation, “And I just answered your question. So kiss me.”

Realization hit him again, and he immediately let out an unbelieving laugh. “You’re a damn sneak, you know that?”

When his eyes met yours, his gaze shifted the slightest bit toward serious in the harsh daylight. And he definitely eyed your mouth this time. Alcohol or no, you could see it plain as day. Then at last, he groaned his annoyance, or tried to shake how flustered he was, and said, “All right then. You win.” He dropped the gin and stepped toward you.

All you had ever known of this suddenly became futile, juvenile, worthless in the eyes of him bringing his gloved hands to the back of your head. Your scant knowledge couldn’t hold a candle to the gentle way he brought your mouth to his, meeting you at last in a kiss so tender it sobered you. This was happening. Arthur was…

All thought was lost when his mouth pressed against yours a second time. Slow. Caring. You let him be, forgetting entirely what this was supposed to be about, instead navigating the newness that was kissing someone back.

The kiss went on for an eternity, the effect better than any cigarette, any gin, anything in the world. There was no snow, was no cold, was nothing but the way his lips parted. You did as he did, and soon your mouth was at his with a fervor, his tongue warm against yours, the taste of gin and tobacco all you knew and all you ever wanted again.

Then he was stepping away, letting his hands fall, his gaze shy as it hit the ground.

“Was that…what you wanted?” he asked softly, meeting your eye as his hands fell a bit nervously onto his gun belt, fidgeting.

You just stared at him. Dove deep inside yourself to remember your words, to remember your circumstances and who you were supposed to be to each other. Because it was certainly blurring as the warmth of his mouth lingered.

After long enough that he kept shifting his weight, you spoke. “I understand it now. Why people…enjoy that.”

You thought you saw the smallest softening of his gaze before the mask returned, his teasing smirk back in place. “You really don’t know nothing, do you?”

You couldn’t even be bothered to chide him. Not after what he had just given you.

You pursed your lips like you could hold that kiss forever then looked at the bottle at your feet. You knelt and picked it up, pushing it into his chest. He grabbed it. And you wouldn’t meet his eye for fear of wanting him to kiss you all over again as you said with a giddy smile, “Thank you for teaching me,” and stepped around him. Aimed for the tent. Focused on keeping your feet beneath you, keeping your head somewhere inside reality, keeping your thoughts away from the man at your back. Away from just how much you truly felt for him, your fondness veiled like the unfamiliarity of a kiss until now.

_________

Chapter twelve is here.

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