#last one is based off when i tried to kill a baby in the game cause it was pooping everywhere and discovered that wasn't an option

[caramelldansenu]

I really love your take on Lamb's follower spouse. Usually, other artists' spouses have beef with Narinder lol

So this is pretty refreshing and it balances out Lamb's relationship with Narinder. It's nice to see a follower having to soften Narinder instead.

thanks in my world everyone has beef with narinder cause it's such a huge prick with basically 0 morals except for the lamb and shams

shams actually likes narinder way more than the lamb does cause narinder always does something insane that pisses off the lamb (like murder ratau) but doesn't bother shams as much since it just didn't care about her until she started interacting with it

now she just kind of messes around with narinder which bothers it a lot while also making sure it doesn't do anything crazy

[greeniegirl23]

Alastor As A Father (Son Version)

- 10 hours. You had been in labor for the second time in your life and it lasted 10 fucking hours...

-As the doctors tended to your newborn son, you quickly grabbed Alastor by his throat and growled in his ear. "If you ever put me in this position again I promise I'll throw you out of the hotel so the Angels can erase you during the next extermination!! Are we clear?!"

He gulped, dangerously aware of your seriousness. "Crystal.."

- Back to your newborn. He was similar to his sister when she was a baby. Your son wasn't a crybaby., not even in the slightest. Only whimpering or whining when he wanted something. It took a lot to make him actually cry and when he did you both knew he was hurt or you'd probably have to kill somebody.

- This time around, Alastor had decided to step up his parenting game and started doing some research. Starting out with some baby books that Charlie lent him from her Dad. He became very invested in your child's development and even tried to convince you that your daughter might have been a 'slow' baby in her toddler years.

"Al, for the hundredth time our daughter turned out fine!" You groaned, rinsing off a plate and handing it too him to dry. "You can't believe everything those books say, especially when they're so.. statistic based."

Alastor huffed. "Darling, according to the book she should have started walking earlier than when she did. Assuming that it's true, I don't want the same for our boy. They will have to protect each other when we're no longer around. Which means he's going to have to be a strapping young gentleman and there's no better time to start than now."

- Unfortunately, this started a somewhat heated argument between you. Alastor was frustrated that you couldn't see how important it was to get an early start, while you were pissed at the fact that he thought your very intelligent, very capable 13 year old was slow and that he was putting too much pressure on your 4 month old who still enjoyed chewing on his own feet.

- As much as you fought for him to understand your point, Alastor became an immovable boulder and you were too dull of an axe to crack him open.

- This stressed you out for two reasons. One, the potential for your son to grow up underneath insane amounts of pressure at such a young age was high. Two, you knew Alastor would sneak behind your back to mold this boy into who he believed he should be and unfortunately, there wasn't much you could do about it.

- You had to trust that in time Alastor would learn from mistakes he made. Until he did though, you promised to be there emotionally for your son and to stop your husband from going too far.

-As your boy grew, the fears you had for him began to come to light. Alastor was just as harsh as an old master. Despite your son's grades, physical strength, and domestic skills for a boy, it still was never enough for his father. It was bad enough the point where your son exclaimed that he hated his father.

"He's never happy with me!" Your now six-year-old child cried in your chest after another incident of Alastor's cold hearted nature. "I drew a picture of him today in class, got all A's on my assignments and he just brushed it off! I don't understand.." He sniffled. "Did I..-Did I do something bad?"

"Of course not Sweetie," You said, trying to comfort him. He's tears soaked your shirt as you tried to come up with a plan to put a stop to this madness.

"Then why doesn't he love me..?"

- The sharp pang in your heart that you felt in that moment brought you and your husband back to a pretty foul argument that went unfinished years prior. Giving that man a piece of your mind once again felt good and this time he was going to listen regardless of if he wanted to or not. How dare he make your child feel that way?! Much less make him cry!

"The boy is too sensitive." Alastor groaned, flipping through his news paper. "He's crying over absolute nonsense."

"He's been crying because you've been on his ass like white on rice since he was three months old!" You exclaimed. "All he's trying to do is impress you but you shoot him down and strap him with more work and expectations. He's six, Alastor!"

Alastor growled. "If he's so obsessed with feelings like love and acceptance, then clearly I'm failing at my job as a parent. Do you think the people of Hell care about utter gutter trash like that? I'm making him strong so can protect himself and his sister, to protect you if I should meet my second demise. Why don't you seem to understand that?!"

Sadness took over your features as you realized that Alastor had blinded himself by his own worries. "Your job as a parent is to feed them, cloth them, give them shelter, and to be there for them. That counts being there emotionally!"

Finally Alastor had enough, "He'll be fine, this conversation is over." He grumbled, preparing to walk off to dismiss you again.

"No, it's not!" You yelled, getting right in his face to show you weren't backing down. You knew he'd never lay a hand on you or anything of the sort, but the tensions were high and you needed his full acknowledgement.

"Our jobs as parents are to protect our children, but your so worried about preparing them for this godforsaken place until you can't even save your son from yourself!" You backed away for a second, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

"Do you realize what he could become from your neglect? He could be the next fuckin' Jeffery Dahmer or Ted Bundy all because of your efforts to make him "strong"." You sighed, shaking your head in confusion and disappointment as your eyes grew glossy. "Alastor you weren't ever like this with our daughter. Sure you were a bit overprotective of her but you still allowed her to be a child. So why do things have to be different for our son?.."

- Alastor looked at you for what seemed like an eternity. The moment lasts so long as your tongue grows thick in your mouth. With an angry huff after what seems like forever, he just, walked right by you. Grabbing his tail coat and heading out the door.

- To say you were shocked was an understatement. Immediately you fell to your knees and started to cry. Weeping for yourself, for your son, because your husband was too damn stubborn sometimes, and because you weren't strong enough to stop him.

- You came to the conclusion that you needed some space. Quickly you gathered your children and their belongings, made a call, and went back to the place where it all started.

- Charlie welcomed you with open arms, happy to see you once again and offering you a shoulder to cry on if needed.

-You took her up on that offer, as well as Vaggie while the other patrons enjoyed the company of your kids. Angel Dust even recommended a shopping day with everyone, for old times sake. Your daughter agreed happily in her monotoned voice while your baby boy seemed quiet.

- As you ran back the events of the night to your friends, they both seemed equally as concerned as you were for your son's well-being.

-Speaking of which. You hadn't seen or heard from him in a while now. Last you checked, he had gone in the kitchen to get a drink. You asked if anyone had seen him since, only to get a sound of reverberating "No's"

- You panicked. Running to the kitchen only to find the window open and one of the knives on the counter was missing. A note hung on the curtain, quickly you read it.

"Daddy made me cry and he made you cry too. I think it's his turn to cry now. I'm sorry Mama.."

A disturbing chill crawled quickly up your spine as you ran back out into the lobby screaming in fear.

-You gave Husker the note as Charlie demanded the car to be brought around so you could stop your son's psychotic break.

"Don't you think we're overreacting a bit? He's six and like 4'3 he can't have gotten far." The grumpy cat said.

"This is Alastor's kid we're talking about, do you really think he's your typical elementary school boy? She sliced someone's arm off when she was eight!" Vaggie exclaimed, referring to your daughter who was now trying to console you.

"Our Dad was gone before we left home, maybe he's not back yet?" She inquired hopefully.

"Sweetie, I didn't tell him we were leaving. If he's gone out he always comes back around 10:30 to say good night to you and your brother. It's 11:00, so I'm sure he's home by now."

-As you, Charlie, Vaggie, and Husker hopped in the car to speed off to your home. You couldn't help but pray to God that something would stop your son from going through with something so cruel.

- Alastor sighed as he walked back into his home. It was wrong for him to talk out like that and his reprimand from Rosie was finally what helped him understand that.

-He was ready to apologize to you and to his son. Expecting you to appreciate his change of heart and maybe even earn his son's forgiveness.

-What he didn't expect, was an empty house. Nor the note on the fridge explaining where you were. It has a few tear stains on it and he cursed himself for making you cry. As he read it, part of him wanted to go to the hotel and apologize to you there. The other part of him realized he had pushed you away too far and maybe, just maybe you needed some time alone to reel in your thoughts.

- Slowly, he made his way up the stairs into your shared bedroom. Smelling like whiskey and feeling slightly depressed. His smile was maintained of course, though it was small and forced to whoever might see it.

- He flopped into bed. Rather ungracefully but he didn't care, there was no one around. No one to scold him or ask him if he had a hard day.

- The house creaked as the night wind blew through his window. His face was stuffed in a pillow as he smelled the faint scent of your shampoo. Flowery, like his Mother used to wear.

-She was always there for him. Kind of like you were always there for your family as well. Both him and your children looked to you for inspiration, love, and affection. Which made him feel even worse for putting you in such a position earlier. Here you are, giving him children, making time for them and him, while also trying to make time for yourself. Fighting against your own husband just so he could see what was important to you, only for him to brush it all off in a hissy fit because he couldn't handle being told he was doing a bad job at being a good father.

-Now, when you asked him about this at a later time. He told you he's unsure of how it happened. He can't remember if he was so wrapped up in his thoughts to the point he wasn't aware of his surroundings, or if your son may be part snake instead of part deer.

-But what he does remember is turning on his back just in time to stop the butcher knife from impaling him straight through the heart. How the hell this person got into the house and into his bedroom without making a sound is something Alastor would never know.

-Whoever the hell had lost their mind to do such a thing was about to become a stain on the wall because if their was one thing for certain and two things for sure Alastor wasn't in the fucking mood until he realized the familiar figure in the darkness was his own flesh and blood.

-His son. His own son was straddling his waist, struggling against his Dad's 137 year old strength at just six and a half years of existence. Alastor didn't understand what was going on, why was he doing this and where were you?!

"What are you doing?!" Alastor yelled. Trying to figure out what on earth was happening.

The boy stayed silent and screamed out something close to a war cry as he used his entire body weight to push the knife closer to Alastor's chest.

"I'm talking to you boy and you'd better answer me this instant!"

"Shut UP!" He shouted. "You don't get to talk to me! Not after what you did earlier today!"

Alastor's heart stopped a bit after he realized that his son had overheard the argument between the two of you.

"That was a misunderstanding! Your mother and I may have exchanged words but everything will be alright, now put the knife down!"

The child growled something feral. "It's not going to be okay, things between us were never okay! From the moment I started training under you, you've been nothing but a big bully. I'd go crying to Mom when you weren't around because all you ever saw me for was worthless! You never loved me and I was willing to accept that because Mom promised me that you'd change in time, but after today I don't believe that anymore!"

With a swift move, the boy had broken the arm lock he was in and lifted the knife over his head to plunge into the man he called Father. Tears weld in his eyes as he swung forward, his pupils changed similar to Alastor's and his voice became distorted with anger and malice. For the first time, Alastor swore he knew how his victims felt as his own smile grinned mercilessly back at him.

"YOu MaDE my MoTHeR CrY AnD FOR thAT, I'LL mAKE SuRE YoU NEvEr MaKE EIthER oF US cRY AgAIN!!"

- It was like a switch in his head had been flicked on. Alastor watched as his son swung his blade forward in slow motion. Memories of himself and what he had done to his own father came whirling back.

- The past seemed to have repeated itself. What a sick and twisted universe. He remembered the arguments between his parents. The sounds of glass shattering and his mother's begging for the pain to stop. He remembered peaking into her room to see her covering her face with makeup to hide the bruses. The fake smiles she'd give him in the morning while she cleaned up the mess from the night before. The deep silence between him and his Dad when he stabbed him to death in the very same way. He tried to hide the body on his own, he didn't want mother to be mad at him or find out. But she did and may have indirectly set his path down a dark road by justifying his actions at 14 years of age.

"Murder ain't good Alastor," She said, sitting him on her lap as she rocked with him in her rocking chair. Her sweet Southern drawl was like music to his ears. "You shouldn't have killed that man, n' I won't try to pretend what you did was right."

"Yes ma'am..." He replied sadly, on the verge of tears until she spoke again.

"Listen Allie. Anyone who kills another person, just for the sake of making someone else smile, is alright with me. I know the only reason you did what you did, is because you felt like you had to and you couldn't stand to see me gettin hurt no more." she sighed. "I just wish I was strong enough to leave when I had the chance, n maybe' you're lil would have stayed clean from the blood of my mistakes.."

"M'Sorry Mama.."

She smiled. "No Baby, I'm sorry. For makin' you live through that when you shouldn't have. My sins are now yours to bare. N' sadly there ain't much I can do to fix that." Fixing his glasses on his face, she gave him a hug and kissed his forehead. "Promise me you'll stay strong Alastor, bare these sins with a smile and don't add on to them unless you absolutely have to."

"I promise." He replied. Swearing silently to make her proud and for her to keep smiling, no matter what.

-Everything made sense now. Truly it did. Why you were so concerned. How he became so blind. What he buried deep within and how he manifested into the situation he was in now.

-But unlike his father, Alastor had a choice and a chance to do better before it was too late. Quickly, the Radio Demon sat up and snatched the knife out of his son's grip mid swipe. The blade clattered to the ground and gave his child the loving embrace he so desperately needed.

"I'm sorry." He said with sincerity. "I should have never made your Mother cry, nor should I have ever made you feel less than appreciated. I am proud of what you've done, who you've become, and who you're going to be."

He felt the small body go rigid. Freezing in confusion as his Dad actually told him how he felt for once. Alastor continued. " I'm sorry for making you think I never loved you. In fact, I love you so much that I wanted you to be perfect. To be strong, to protect your sister, and your mother when I'm not here anymore. But I put far too much on you too soon, which was unfair to you in a number of ways. I only wanted the best for you, but I couldn't see that I was harming you in the process and I never, ever wanted that..."

Pulling away from his son, one of the biggest pride and joys he had down in this disgusting cesspool. He wiped the child's tears away and gave him a genuine smile.

"You are my son and I love you, I apologize that it took me so long to say it, but it is true. I'm proud of you for being willing to protect your mother, even from me. I had to do the same thing around your age to the man that would have been your grandpa, but he was terrible to us and deserved to be slaughtered. You're already further ahead than I am, so please. Forgive me and I promise our relationship from here on will be much, much different than what it's been."

- Alastor watched as his son hiccuped and sobbed. Nodding his head and mumbling out a meek "Okay.." He dove in for another hug and Alastor allowed him to stay there and cry tears of relief for as long as he needed to.

- Not too long afterwards, you came barreling into the house and raced up stairs. Calling Alastor's name and for your son until you literally kicked down the door to your bedroom, stopping at what you found and thanking God for hearing your prayers.

-The others came after you in a frenzy but quickly let out breathes of relief at the sight of your smile. Quietly you 'shhhed' them and stepped aside to see the same beautiful sight you did.

-There on your king sized bed, sat your husband and his son. Alastor was propped upwards against the headboard, using pillows to support is back while his head was supported by your son. The six year old was snuggled up against his father's chest, sleeping soundly underneath his throat while Alastor's arms seemed to form a somewhat protective cage around him.

- Smiling happily, you closed the door to the room and headed downstairs with everyone else. Heading back to the hotel and leaving a note for Alastor in the morning that encouraged him to catch up on lost time with your second-born. Satisfied that their bond was finally forming into something beautiful.

(Wow, I did not plan to get as invested in this as I did. I just let the story flow and got this, honestly I love it and would like to see some of my theories between Alastor and his Mom come to fruition. Anyways, I'll see y'all in the next post! Don't forget to comment something you might want to see me write next :D P.S Why the fuck did I post this without editing it..?)

[cakesunflower]

lovelorn (and nobody knows) [rafe cameron au fic] chapter 5

Summary: Isla Carrera had planned for the summer before college to be focused on three things: helping out at her family’s restaurant (the helpful daughter), preparing for college (the good student), and having fun with the Pogues (the loyal friend). But one fateful night, where her car breaks down and her rescuer is none other than Rafe Cameron, seems to send her summer down a path she didn’t see coming–one teeming with a secret, illicit romance with the last person she expected. And if her friends and sister found out, Isla isn’t sure they’ll be so understanding, no matter what her feelings are.

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Author's Note: I tried a little something different with this, in which there's a convo that happens in Instagram DMs so I made like an edit and posted the screenshots as a way for you guys to read them! But I also put the conversation in the image description for each screenshot if it's easier to read that way! Let me know if you guys like it and I should continue doing that!

The brief nap and unexpected conversation with Rafe had sobered Isla up by the time she joins her friends in the backyard once again, all of whom are tipsy or beyond. As soon as he spots her, JJ shoves a cup of beer in Isla’s hand, which she accepts without a fight as she settles down at the base of a tree where her friends are sitting. The party around them rages on, people dancing and chatting and swimming and playing games, the music drifting through the air but nearly drowned out by the noise of everything else.

As she stretches her legs out, Pope sniffs the air and glances at her questioningly. “Were you smoking?”

Lips on the rim of her cup, her gaze darts to Pope’s, mildly surprised, while JJ pipes up, “Without me?”

“Not weed,” Pope tells him with a roll of his eyes.

Isla slowly lowers the cup. “Yeah. Bummed one off some guy,” she answers with a casual shrug.

Pope purses his lips at her. “Those things will kill you, you know.”

Widening her eyes, Isla gasps. “Really? I had no idea,” she exclaims, feigning shock and dissolving into laughter when Pope shoves her.

“Don’t come crying to me if you get lung cancer,” he says, leaning back on his hands resting on the grass, wincing when Cleo smacks him on the chest.

“Don’t joke,” she tells him pointedly, looking up at him with a half-hearted glare. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead in apology, which seems to satisfy her. She lets out a long, content sigh. “This summer is going to be amazing, I can feel it,” Cleo  says from where she lays with her head on Pope’s lap. “The outdoor movies, boat rides, barbecues, concerts—I’m ready for it.”

Kie raises her cup of beer in cheers. “Back to OBX life, baby,” she grins.

Isla was of the same mindset, smiling into her next sip of beer as she thought of the coming months. It’s the last summer before college, and while in between all of the fun Isla and Kie will be working at their family’s restaurant, Isla is still looking forward to the summer.

They sat together, discussing their plans for the summer—most of them with each other—as the party continued on around them. Isla watches people jump into the pool, the group of them sitting far enough away from the splash zone, and she feels a smile tugging on her lips as she closes her eyes and leans her head up against the tree. The weather is perfect, warm with a cool breeze every now and then, and she lets out a long sigh of relief before taking another sip of beer.

“Midsummers is also coming up,” Sarah comments, prompting Isla to open her eyes while Kie groans.

“Don’t remind me,” her sister mutters, twirling a dandelion between her fingers, face scrunching in distaste. 

Isla gives a shrug. “I don’t mind it.”

Kie’s nose wrinkles. “You enjoy being surrounded by rich people who spend the night trying to one-up each other by flashing how much money they have?”

JJ snorts as he, Pope, and Cleo rearrange their sitting positions to engage in a game of cards. Isla rolls her eyes at Kie. “No. I just have fun dressing up and eating good food. Sue me.”

The food at Midsummers was always top tier, especially when Pope’s dad was running the oyster bar. “You’re such a girly girl,” Kie quips.

“Why is that a bad thing?” Isla retorts, arching an eyebrow. “Where else am I gonna get a chance to wear high heels and a dress? The Chateau?” She gets to her feet, feeling a little miffed at Kie’s comment. She and her sister share a lot of similarities, but they’re also plenty different; one of them being that Isla will never pass up an opportunity to dress up for an event. While she doesn’t particularly enjoy all of the events that they attend in Figure Eight, most of her joy comes from the process of getting ready, dressing up, doing her makeup. She’s always been that way, and no one has ever faulted her for it. Why should they?

But sometimes Kie’s distaste for all things Figure Eight gets the better of her, and she’ll get the tendency to make Isla feel bad for her not caring as deeply as Kie does. She’s a Pogue, just like her sister and friends, but is it so wrong to like some things about Figure Eight? Her friends don’t think so—of course, they don’t. If they did, John B wouldn’t be dating Sarah, who they all welcomed into their fold, nor would they be spending their Friday night at a party here, either. Kie can just take it too far sometimes.

“Where are you going?” she frowns up at Isla.

“I need some chips,” she says, which is only half true. She kind of doesn’t want to talk to Kie at the moment. It’s nothing serious, just some sisterly annoyance which she’ll get over in the next five minutes. She is kind of hungry, though.

John B pushes himself up, too. “I’ll come with.” Standing straight, he reaches down to brush some of Sarah’s blonde locks away from her face. “Want anything?”

She shakes her head, smiling. “I’m okay.”

“I’m good too,” JJ tells John B with a smirk.

“Same,” Pope and Cleo add, twin shit-eating grins on their faces. John B merely flips them all off and joins Isla on the trek towards the house, throwing his arm over her shoulders. 

“You good, buddy?” John B asks her as they walk by the pool.

Isla nods, chin lifting slightly. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” she responds, wincing only slightly as they pass by the speaker that’s blasting music. In a mumble, she adds, “Jesus, that’s loud.”

“Okay, grandma,” John B snickers, which results in Isla digging her elbow into his ribs while sipping the beer. “You looked a little ticked off at Kie.”

They walk into the house, weaving around party goers, his arm still around her shoulders in brotherly affection. Isla sighs, unsurprised that John B caught her expression or slight shift in demeanor. The guy is the Pogue-anointed leader of their group; he’s always had the ability to be in-tune with his friends. “You know her,” she says as they approach the kitchen. “She doesn’t mean anything by it, really, but she’ll make those subtle comments about me that almost make it seem like she’s judging me because some of my interests are different than hers.” With a roll of her eyes, she shoots him a look and adds, “Not Pogue enough, I guess.”

“Ah,” John B says with a sage nod of his head. “Whether she means anything by it or not, she loves you all the same, Isla. We all do,” he says with a smile, giving her arm a squeeze. “But if her comments bother you, just let her know. I doubt she’d ever want to hurt your feelings if she can help it.”

“You’re right,” she sighs again. He made the non-issue seem easily resolvable, which Isla’s sure it is. 

The kitchen counter is littered with snacks, a lot of which are opened already and have been dug through. There’s even a bag of marshmallows, and Isla pops one into her mouth as John B stands a few feet away, raising his eyebrows at her expectantly as he opens his mouth wide, silently signaling her. With a laugh as she chews the one in her mouth, Isla grabs another marshmallow and tosses it towards him, grinning widely when John B catches it in his mouth.

“Incredible,” she gushes exaggeratedly with a clap of her hands, John B taking a bow in response that only makes her laugh more. Turning to the several bags of chips on the counter, Isla asks him, “Which one should we steal for ourselves?”

John B hums thoughtfully, lifting his hat up to run his fingers through his hair before fitting the cap back down. “How about—”

“I was hoping to run into you here, Isla.” She freezes at the familiar voice, gaze flickering up to see Carlo standing on the other side of the counter, dark eyes fixed on her. Oh, fucking hell. “I wanted to—”

“Nope,” Isla cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head, lips pursing at the way he frowns at being interrupted. Screw him. “I have nothing to say to you, and I promise there’s nothing you can say that I’d wanna hear. So, no.”

Carlo’s forehead creases even more as his frown deepens. “Don’t you think you’re being childish?”

“Hey, buddy,” John B says from next to her, raising his eyebrows at Carlo. “She said she’s not interested. Take the hint and walk away.”

“Fuck off, Routledge, I wasn’t talking to you,” Carlo scowls and Isla’s stomach twists, dreading that getting him to leave her alone wouldn’t be easy. His eyes flicker back to Isla, and even the counter separating them isn’t creating enough distance. “Come on, Isla. We never got the chance to talk things out.”

She exchanges a look of disbelief with John B, who also looks pissed on her behalf as his narrow eyed stare goes back to Carlo. She half expects John B to walk around the counter and get physical with Carlo. “What the hell are you talking about?” she says to Carlo, exasperated. “What is there to talk about? You cheated. I broke up with you. End of story.”

Her pulse is quickening, wanting him gone, as John B crosses his arms and says to Carlo tightly, “Yeah. End of story. Now leave.”

Carlo’s jaw clenches. He’s around the same height as John B, their stare even as he glares. “This ain’t your damn house, John B.”

“No, but it is mine.”

Isla’s eyes widen, the air whooshing out of her lungs when she sees Rafe entering the kitchen. She’s pretty sure her pulse skitters when she sees the cold expression on Rafe’s features, his gaze on Carlo as he takes a few steps closer. No scowl, no glare, but a chilling look of indifference that contrasted to the hardness of his icy blue eyes. She can’t help but think this look on him is far more intimidating, in addition to how his six-foot-two height towers over Carlo, and even a little bit over John B—who tenses up next to her, like he doesn’t think Rafe’s arrival is a good thing.

When did Isla start thinking it is?

Because she finds herself relaxing upon Rafe’s entry, the tight knot loosening in her chest as he stands a few feet away from Carlo, who has the right mind to look a little frightened. It brings Isla more satisfaction than it should. 

Carlo finds his tongue. “I was just—”

“Leaving? Good choice,” Rafe cuts him off with a nod. When Carlo gapes at him, Rafe arches an eyebrow. He may look calm and collected, but Isla notices the muscle in his jaw jumping, like he’s grinding his teeth together. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk to you. Get the fuck out while your dignity is still intact.” He gives Carlo a slow once over, lips curling back into a sneer. “Whatever little of it there’s left.”

Isla claps her lips together, which had been parted in shock, in order to stifle back a gasping laugh. Her gaze darts to her left to John B, who is watching the whole interaction looking a helpless combination of bewildered, surprised, and wary. She can’t really blame him. Rafe Cameron, of all people, is coming to her defense, and while this isn’t the first time for Isla, it is for John B, and she can only imagine what’s going through his head right now. Probably a bit of the same of what was going through hers that first time.

Right now, though, she stands in the Cameron’s kitchen with her skin warming, watching as Carlo’s jaw works, looking as though he’s genuinely considering telling Rafe to fuck off or, worse, swing at him. She knows for a fact Carlo won’t win that fight. So when he looks at Isla, features tight and a contemptuous look hardening his eyes, she knows that he’s going to leave her alone for now.

He turns and stalks out of the kitchen, his departure making it easier for Isla to breathe as the tension eases out of her shoulders, which sink as she lets out a sigh of relief. Rafe finally turns to look at her, blue eyes meeting her brown, and she watches as the hardness in his gaze melts away, softening as he runs his eyes over like. Almost as if. . . He’s making sure she’s okay.

And then when he subtly arches an eyebrow, Isla knows he’s making sure. 

Heart fluttering erratically, Isla dips her chin in an almost imperceptible nod. Still, she finds herself saying, “Thank you for that.”

“Yeah, very decent of you.” Isla almost startles when John B speaks up, gaze snapping over to her friend. He’s watching Rafe with that same wary look, though there’s that familiar touch of patronization that her friends and Rafe always get when they’re talking to each other. Isla tenses up ever so slightly; she doesn’t think she can handle any sort of confrontation between them right now. Not when John B is her friend and Rafe has been so. . . Different with her. John B lifts his chin. “Very un-Kook-like.”

Rafe’s gaze slides over to John B and immediately his expression shifts, that smug smirk returning that’s always been so condescending. Isla knows she should only see it as that, and yet. . . She can’t help but find it attractive. Oh, God.

“It’s not like you were doing much to help,” Rafe says in return, arching an eyebrow.

John B scoffs while Isla takes a long sip of her beer. “I did the exact same thing as you did, which was just talk to him, by the way.”

Rafe cocks his head to the side, smug. “And who did he actually listen to?”

When Isla notes the narrowing of John B’s eyes, she steps in. “Alright, we’re not having a dick measuring contest, okay?” she says, cheeks flushing ever so slightly at the mere thought of Rafe’s dick. The heat only seems to intensify when his gaze touches her, something intense passing through his eyes in an instant. “Thank you both for your help. Let’s move on.”

She grabs the bag of barbecue flavored chips, grasping John B’s upper arm with her free hand to pull him out of the kitchen. He glares at Rafe until the second when Isla shoves him out of the kitchen, only pausing briefly enough to glance over her shoulder at Rafe. She doesn’t know why she does it until their gazes meet and she finds herself smiling as she mouths, thank you.

And then Isla sees his shoulders relax, the smirk turning into the smallest of smiles as he dips his chin in return, and the fluttering returns to her stomach once more.

“Well, that was fucking weird,” John B remarks as they walk through the back doors and step out into the backyard.

“A little,” Isla lies. She digs through the bag of chips and practically shoves a handful in  her mouth, hoping John B won’t linger on this topic of conversation.

Of course, that’s only wishful thinking, because the moment they arrive back where their friends are sitting, he announces, “Something weird just happened.”

Isla suppresses a sigh as she sits back down, back against the tree, while a chorus of “what?” sound from the others. As John B sits next to Sarah, he informs them, “Well, first, fucking Carlo was here.”

“Who the fuck invited that piece of shit?” JJ asks while Kie looks over at Isla. Whatever annoyance from before disappears as her sister silently, with her eyes, asks if Isla is okay. She just nods in response, giving a small smile.

“Don’t look at me,” Sarah says with a shake of her head, hands raising in defense. “He probably tagged along with someone.”

“Is he still here?” Pope asks, dark eyes darting around the yard, seeking out Isla’s ex.

“No, he left,” John B answers. “Which brings me to the actual weird thing.” Isla holds her breath as he briefly meets Sarah’s gaze before telling the group, “Rafe was the one who kicked Carlo out.”

“Rafe?” Cleo repeats, eyebrows shooting up. “Rafe Cameron?”

JJ shoots her a droll look. “How many Rafes do you know?” he asks, earning the middle finger from Cleo. “You’re telling me King Kook stepped in and helped you?” he adds, glancing at Isla in surprise.

Sarah tilts her head. “I thought my dad was King Kook?” she murmurs, almost to herself, unperturbed by the label. She shakes her head before saying, louder, “You guys, my brother isn’t some villain. He has his moments.”

“As rare as they might be,” Kie adds on with a pointed arch of her eyebrow as her gaze flicks back to Isla.

Their eyes meet and Isla tenses because she can see the clear question in her sister’s eyes, and can see where her thoughts wandered. And right now, Kie is thinking of when Isla had told her how Rafe had helped her out when her car broke down, which the rest of their friends still don’t know about. Adding what just happened now, her friends would have questions, suspicions, and Isla couldn’t honestly refute any of them because of her own changing opinion of Rafe. She couldn’t truthfully tell them it wasn’t a big deal, that it was just a one time thing—because neither of those things were true. At least, not for Isla.

So Isla gives a minute shake of her head, needing Kie to understand what she’s silently telling her. Kiara raises an eyebrow and Isla knows that though Kie remains silent, they will definitely be talking about this later. Isla isn’t looking forward to it.

*****

“So. Spill.”

Isla exhales sharply through her nose, bending down to spit out the toothpaste-tinted water in the sink. As she dries her face, she looks at Kie, who is leaning against the bathroom door frame, arms crossed. Trying not to be too rattled, Isla says nonchalantly, “There’s nothing to spill.”

“Fuck off,” Kie laughs, shaking her head. “You told me he gave you a ride the other week when your car broke down, and tonight he kicked out your ex? Those are nice things,” she emphasizes with a raise of her eyebrows. “And Rafe’s not that nice of a guy.”

Isla shrugs as she rubs and pats moisturizer on her face. “I don’t have an insight into his head, Kie,” she says with a slight chuckle, wanting to brush this conversation off. “I don’t know what he’s thinking. But—” She decides to be honest, meeting her sister’s gaze. “I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, you know? He helped me both times when he didn’t have to, and I appreciate it. That’s all.”

Kie twists her lips to the side, not entirely looking convinced. “It’s still sus,” she says. “Like, at least tonight. Why step in at all? John B was there, it’s not like you were dealing with Carlo on your own.”

As Isla rubs lotion up and down her arms, gaze on the movement of her hands, a ghost of a smile tugs at her lips as she remarks, “Maybe it was his good deed of the month.”

“What?” Kie asks, puzzled.

Isla resists the urge to swallow, and instead chuckles. “Nothing.” She shoots her sister a smile. “Anyway, it’s whatever,” she says, moving past Kie to get out of the bathroom. “Who knows why Rafe does anything?”

Kie snorts, moving into the bathroom for her turn to get ready for the night. It’s a little after two in the morning, their parents fast asleep, and at this point, neither of them are too drunk. Isla hadn’t drank anything after the beer JJ had handed to her, and Kie knows her limits when it comes to drinking. “I guess so,” she muses, tying her hair up into a messy bun.

Isla goes to her own room, shutting the door behind her before climbing into bed, sighing as she slips under the cool sheets. The main room lights are off, but she keeps the colorful LED lights hanging in front of her curtains on, bathing her room in dim colors as she unlocks her phone.

The first thing she does is go on Instagram, scrolling through her notifications to see people liking and commenting on her posts and stories from the party tonight. But her thumb freezes when she notices the top notification, which came in just three minutes ago.

Rafe.Cameron1104 is now following you!

Her eyes widen, the breath stilling in her lungs, even as she tells herself this isn’t a big fucking deal. Because it’s not. Yet, she still clicks on his profile, and before she decides whether or not to follow him back—because she is damn sure her friends will notice—she does a little stalking, feeling heat pool into her cheeks as she does, like she’s doing something wrong.

Still, Isla can’t help but scroll through Rafe’s profile. He doesn’t post that much, but his posts are mostly what she expects them to be; on his family’s yacht, with his friends, some with his family. No selfies, which doesn’t surprise her, but Isla does find herself looking at the solo shots of him, biting the inside of her cheek when she stares a little too long at the shirtless photos that makes her blood heat up in her veins. He’s fit, which is known, with broad shoulders and lean muscles, his torso tight with prominent abs glinting against the sunlight. Enough to make her mouth grow dry.

God, what’s wrong with her?

Why did he follow her? More importantly, why is she freaking out like she’s a middle schooler with a crush? Despite her warring thoughts, Isla scrolls to the top of his profile, thumb hovering over the blue follow button. A bunch of people she knows follow him, though none are her friends—except for Sarah, of course. Isla hesitates before letting out a quiet huff, hoping her friends don’t weirdly check Instagram followings, and presses the follow button before exiting out of the app, locking her phone, and dropping it on her stomach, all in the matter of five seconds. 

She stares, wide eyed, at the ceiling while trying to slow down her foolishly racing pulse, chest rising and falling with every breath she takes. “What the fuck, Isla?” she whispers to herself in the dim lighting of her room, looking at the kaleidoscope of colors reflecting off the ceiling thanks to the LED lights. 

He’s literally just a guy. A guy that, admittedly, her friends don’t like and she shouldn’t, either. Too often have JJ, John B, and Pope gotten into fights, both verbal and physical, with Rafe and his friends. Granted, her friends sometimes instigate the fights just as much as Rafe and his friends do, but the animosity has existed for years now. Which should be reason enough why Isla shouldn’t be engaging with Rafe anymore than she already has. Hell, smoking with him in his room tonight could be considered crossing a line, where her friends are concerned. 

It feels like she’s playing a dangerous game—one where she has no idea what the rules even are.

Her phone suddenly buzzes and Isla’s throat dries as she lifts it, squinting against the bright screen. When she reads the notification, her stomach does a somersault, reading the message Rafe sent her on Instagram. God, why is he awake? Embarrassment floods her cheeks, knowing he received the notification of her follow back right away. Part of her wants to pretend she never got the notification of his message and just go to sleep, but intrigue wins out, and she opens Instagram and goes on her direct messages.

She rolls her lower lip into her mouth, reading those three words with a flutter in her belly, thumbs hovering over the keypad until she figures out how to respond.

Isla takes a deep breath, reading Rafe’s last message a few too many times before exiting out of the app, finding it a good place to let the conversation naturally end. The last thing she needs to keep doing is messaging Rafe Cameron in the middle of the night. So she plugs her phone into the charger and rests it on her bedside, turning away and burrowing herself deeper into her cocoon of blankets, needing sleep to take her away from the turbulent thoughts that surround Rafe.

[angelicsoka]

MAKE A PART 2 OF THE HUGHES SISTER X TREVOR I NEEDDDD TO KNOW HOW HED REACT

LITTLE TALKS, t. zegras 

part one <3

word count | 1.3k

pairings | trevor zegras x fem!hughes!reader, platonic!luke hughes x sister!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x sister!reader, platonic!jack hughes x sister!reader, 

summary | the youngest hughes sibling begins to amend her relationships

warnings | mentions of self-harm and depression. not proofread. based loosely on the song little talks by of monsters and men. no use of "y/n". lowercase intended. uses of the nicknames for reader include: sunshine, love, pretty girl, & babe. i think that's it??

a/n | i’ve been on a writing SPREE, so here’s this <3 

i don't like walking around this old and empty house

so hold my hand, i'll walk with you, my dear

the stairs creak as you sleep

it's keeping me awake

it's the house telling you to close your eyes

and some days i can't even dress myself

it's killing me to see you this way

she looked in the mirror, an exhausted look on her face. her hair was greasy and disheveled, her eyes held bags under them. she sighed at the pathetic sight that was her, tears welling in her eyes. she had barely slept and when she did it was for long periods of times. her clothes were wrinkled and clearly worn, and she knew she smelt. yet, it took so much effort just to get up and take a shower. 

her brothers had been trying to get her to go out with them, and when that didn’t work they tried to start with simple stuff: quinn would cook her favorite meals to get her to eat with them. jack would set up games and movies for them, and luke helped her clean up her room. most of the time, however, she was in her room either sleeping or trying to sleep. but today she had to be up, she had to shower. 

she broke her gaze from the mirror, turning to run the shower. she discarded her clothes, ignoring the scars that littered her body. she stepped in, her body relaxing against the hot water. it stung, but she didn’t even seem to notice. she was stuck in her head, worried about seeing trevor; about talking to him.

time passed faster than she would’ve liked. the water had begun to run cold, forcing her to finish up and turn off the shower. she began to towel dry herself, taking her time to avoid seeing him. she sighed as she put on her clean clothes, the feeling of finally being clean made her feel just slightly better. she exited the bathroom into her room, throwing the clothes in the hamper as she passed. she heard voices coming from the living room, one voice she could always pick out: trevor zegras. 

for a moment she contemplated how she could get out unnoticed. maybe she could sneak out through the backdoor when he wasn't looking or jump out her bedroom window, although the fall would probably cripple her. she sighed once more, deciding that she needed to talk to him, to explain; he deserved that much.

she reached for her doorknob, panicking internally as she twisted it open. it had been months since she had seen him in person, but he looked no different from the last time she had seen him to now. she saw him sitting on the couch with jack, the two of them catching up. she slowly walked down the stairs, a creak catching their attention. trevor’s head whipped toward her direction, an unreadable look on his face. she wanted nothing more than to fold into herself, to get his eyes off of her. 

“hey, sunshine.” jack broke the silence, smiling at his baby sister. she held a small smile, continuing down the stairs. neither her nor trevor said a word. “how ya feeling?”

“okay.” she spoke softly, unlike the person trevor knew. he watched as she moved slowly, how she didn't smile and when she did it seemed forced. he felt a pang in his heart seeing her like this, so unlike herself. 

beside him, jack began to make very obviously fake ringing noises, grabbing his phone from his pocket. “sorry, gotta take this.” he jumped up, running out of the living area and out the front door.

“did he just…” trevor trailed off, looking to his ex with a confused look.

“make fake ringing noises so that he could leave? yeah, yeah he did.” she laughed softly, almost inaudibly. for a moment, she seemed like her old self, but her face dropped quickly. 

there's an old voice in my head

that's holding me back

well, tell her that i miss our little talks

soon it will be over and buried with our past

we used to play outside when we were young

and full of life and full of love

some days i don't know if i am wrong or right

your mind is playing tricks on you, my dear

“so, uh, how have you been?” trevor cleared his throat, looking to the hughes sister. she was curled up on the other end of the couch as she bit at her finger nails. she looked over to him, the anxiety clear on her face. she shrugged, looking back down to her fingers. he couldn’t see it, but he knew her like the back of his hand, and right now she was holding back tears. he stood up, walking over to where she sat, taking a seat beside her. “talk to me, love.” the pet name simply slipped out, but it brought her over the edge. her shoulders shook as she began to sob, trevor pulling her to his chest. “shh, shh, it's okay. it's okay.”

“i’m so sorry, trev. i’m so fucking sorry.” she cried, gripping his torso as if her life depended on it.

“babe, why are you apologizing?” he asked, looking down at her. he tilted her chin up, ignoring the pain he felt at the sight of her teary, tired eyes. he cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears that had fallen down. “you don’t need to apologize.”

“yes, i do. i left you, i hurt you.” she hiccupped continuously, rushing her words.

“shh, slow down. it’s okay, i’m okay.” she tried to continue but her breath caught in her throat. she began to panic, her breathing turning short and quick. “look at me, love. breathe with me.” trevor began to take deep breaths, the youngest hughes following. it brought back the memories of trevor comforting her through her anxiety and panic attacks; he would always drop what he was doing to help her. once she had calmed down, trevor pulled her into a hug, placing a tender kiss on her temple.

“i hate myself, trev. i hate everything about myself, and i hate feeling like this.” his heart broke with every word she spoke. “how can i love you if i can’t love myself?” she sniffled, looking up at him.

“i love you so much, sunshine, and it is killing me to see you like this.” she wiped at the tear that fell, “i wish you could see yourself the way that i see you. you are perfect, love, in every way. i could be the most mad i’ve ever been and one smile from you could change that in an instant. i love the way your eyes light up whenever you talked about something you love, the way you can keep up with my energy.” she smiled softly, “i may be biased but i just so happen to think you are the most beautiful girl in the world. i love you, pretty girl.”

“i love you, trev, so goddamn much.” she smiled once again, tracing her fingers along his jaw. “can we try this again?” 

“absolutely, love.” he lent down, gently kissing her. she was nowhere near perfectly happy, but they would be okay, and that's all that matters.  

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Cowboy AU

Prologue

Introduction to my fic set within the cowboy AU created by @ghouljams for our dear boy Nikto. This is just a quick starter piece to set the scene for the fic so to say. Also decided to include Sputnik since I don't see many fics including the precious baby!

A/N: Obligatory note that I do not condone the owning of dangerous or wild exotic animals as pets regardless of a country or state's laws. Exotic animals require a large amount of knowledge in their husbandry and specific requirements to ensure the highest standard of welfare is maintained. They should never be treated like domestic animals, they do not make good pets.

Warnings: Discussion of Serious Injury, Limb Amputation.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

Next Part

Nikto had been waiting for death to greet him throughout the entirety of his career. It was simply an inevitable fact of life both in the military and working as a mercenary for hire. People died constantly at his sides, and it quickly became a question of “when” and not “if” the final string would be cut and his body would fail him for the last time. 

There were days when he almost wished for the reaper to claim whatever remained of his empty heart. Torture was tolerable, an old friend at this point, but the months and years of recovery afterwards were what really felt like suffering.  

Alive, and yet completely useless. A fractured mind trapped within an equally ruined body.  

The only thing he could look forward to was getting back to work once his body was finally strong enough to pass medical approval. Tedious as the waiting game could be, he wasn’t stupid enough to push himself beyond his limits like some honour-hungry rookie. No, he waited and saved his strength for when it would one day be needed, for the days when nothing but sheer willpower can save his pitiful soul.  

And yet despite his many brushes with death, he had still yet to be taken by it, even when by all rights he should have been. Death yet remained a stranger.  

But why? Was his mind too corrupt and darkened for even the devil to want to touch? He had never believed in any God, but surely there was one looking down on him and mocking his pathetic existence. How else could he have survived an injury that should have killed him?  

He could remember little of the mission, only the sounds of people shouting orders, the potent scent of smoke and chemicals in the air, and pain. Certainly not the worst pain he’d experienced in his life, a blade to the gut still had the honour of that, but close to it. He was fortunate that the concussion he’d received had left him drifting in and out of unconsciousness for most of the trip back to base.  

His arm was fucked. According to the doctor and the reports from various other operators present on the mission, his elbow was bent in a way it definitely shouldn’t have been, and there was enough shrapnel in the remaining flesh that he might as well have lopped the whole thing off entirely.  

Which is exactly what the doctors ended up doing.  

It was their last resort, but with the complete lack of feeling in the limb coupled with an infection that just couldn’t be stamped out no matter how many antibiotics they pumped into his IV, it was necessary. They tried as hard as possible to save it, but necrosis had set in, and the safest course of action was to remove all damaged and dead tissue.  

He still wasn’t sure what would have been worse, being taken out by sepsis, or dealing with his current existence.  

And what a miserable existence it is.  

KorTac wanted to keep him on – surely, they couldn’t just let a wild beast like him roam free without a firm hand on his leash – but there was very little they could offer for him. Stay with the PMC and become a glorified guard dog? Train bratty little recruits? Sit behind a desk pushing papers nine to five? No, that would destroy what little grasp he still had on his sanity.  

That was how he ended up standing on the rundown porch of a house that could be described in a single word as dilapidated. It was cheap but came with enough land for him to not need to worry about nosy neighbours. He’s so far lacked the motivation to do anything to try and restore the building, but it has four walls and a roof, which is more than can be said for some of the “safe” houses he’s utilised over the years.  

He’d been lucky to discover the place at all with how small the town is. A passing comment from a fellow soldier about the region had caught his attention and, considering the impossibility of returning to Russia, he’d decided to look into it. America was a massive continent, and in the US he wouldn’t be questioned for owning weapons. Even better? This particular state allowed him to continue to keep Sputnik without suspicion.  

The old man who had been selling the house had been sympathetic after he’d played the whole “injured veteran” card and had even offered him a reduced price for the property. It still sickens him to think about how weak he must have looked in that moment, but needs must, and what he needed was a place to call home, even if only for a little while.  

One terrible accident and he’s reduced to begging for help like a stray dog wanting scraps.  

His irritation has the hand of his prosthetic curling gently into the fur of Sputnik’s pelt. All it can do is open and close around things to allow him some form of grip, but it works, and he supposes that’s all that matters. His girl doesn’t seem to care that it’s not a flesh and blood hand petting her, leaning into him regardless.  

She’s the centre of his current predicament and the reason he’s been forced to reach out for help. No amount of puppy dog eyes and wide grins sent his way are enough to save her from a trip to the vet. Or rather, a visit from one.  

He waits patiently as a large car rolls down the gravel road that leads to the small house from the property’s front gate. Sputnik whines as it draws closer, before beginning to laugh with nervous excitement. The moment the vehicle pulls to a stop she moves to investigate, but is quickly stopped with a barked, “МЕСТО!” command from Nikto.  

Sputnik huffs, unimpressed with not being allowed to greet their visitor, but settles for sitting at the top of the stairs while her master approaches.  

In all honesty, Nikto had been expecting a grizzled old man or woman with decades of experience under the belt when the receptionist had promised to send someone with knowledge of exotics. What he wasn’t expecting was... you.  

[llamaisllama777]

Fan theories that I like that are just WAY TOO SAD to be canon from different fandoms I'm in.

Like is a strong word, maybe interest me? Peak the morbid part of my brain? Anyways he's some fan theories from different fandoms I'm in.

Last one left standing theory

This is a theory I saw a while ago on here. The theory basically said that What if all of the TSAMS and LAES has already happened and the videos we are watching are just recordings made by Sun trying to make himself feel better and still bring joy to people even after all his family are gone. Basically, Lunar, Moon, Earth, Solar, Dazzle, Jack, Monty, all gone. Either all died or moved away or moved on in Dazzle's case. And now Sun is the last Celestial left standing and, in his sadness, decided to upload the videos online to make himself feel better to make it feel like they're still here. When in reality, it's just Sun. All alone.

(TW//Miscarriage)

Batman accidentally killed Harley's baby.

So, this is a pretty dark one. So, in Batman Arkham city near the beginning of the game, Batman walks into the church where Joker is supposedly when Batman walks in there. Harley jumps out from behind an army of guys with guns and tries to attack Batman, but as Batman, you grab Harley's leg, throw her, and slam her and her stomach into a wall. Harley walks it off like everything is fine and leaves the goons to watch Batman while she goes back to Joker.

Later, after you escape the church and make your way through Joker's fun house after the boss fight with Hammer you can find a baby crib with a positive pregnancy test on the floor. Harley is pregnant with the Joker's child.

(Rut Ro Raggy!)

After you beat the game, and if you have the Harley Quinn's revenge DLC, you play as Robin trying to rescue Batman, who's been captured by Harley. As Robin, you can find that same room where you found the crib and the positive test from the base game, but this time, it's... different. In the crib is a puppet of a child Joker with the positive test in the crib while scattered around the room is dozen upon dozens of negative tests. And while the box warns of the possibility of false positives, some fans myself included have come to a darker conclusion.

(Now, while I don't believe Batman is responsible for the child's death, I have a different theory on that this theory is decently popular in the Arkham fandom)

Theory basically says when Batman threw Harley into the wall, it caused her to miscarry.

This theory is super messed up! Not only does it mean Batman unknowingly broke his one rule (no killing), Harley lost her child, that's... this theory is all around sad. But at least in Batman Arkham Knight, it's hinted Harley is pregnant again.

Literally any "is in a coma/is all a dream theory"

Pokémon, Ben 10, Adventure Time all have the infamous "The main character is in a coma/everything is a dream" theory. Look, I think theories like this. They're neat.

If not slightly morbid and kind of a let down

But imagine if you spent years/decades enjoying this wonderful/crazy world only for it to be revealed, it was all fake! An illusion made in the mind of the bedridden main character.

No thank you. Interesting theory. I like it but please no.

So, these are just some dark theories from different fandoms . I hope you enjoyed these dark theories I have stumbled upon.

[graysparrowao3]

Baldur's Gate 3 Fic Masterlist

Last updated Jan 5th 2025

Hi there, I'm Gray (or Sparrow!)! I didn't really want the 'ao3' to be always at the end of my name, but I got the username and title mixed up when I was making the account, and here we are lol.

I really enjoy writing Baldur's Gate 3 fanfic, especially based on Rolan, Cal, and Lia but most anyone really, especially NPCs (and, apparently, an unexpected redemption series featuring Rugan and Aradin that broke me).

I've loved finding so many friends and talented folks in the fandom, please feel welcome to connect 💛

[Fic list under cut]

Rolan, Cal, & Lia Multi-Chapter fics - Mature & Explicit

What if Rolan was a Companion. Complete. Mature Follows the game with Rolan as a companion and gn!Tav. Good ending.

What if Rolan was a Companion... and Everything Went Wrong. In progress, we're back baby! Companion piece to the above. The game with Rolan, angst, and pain. Bad ending.

The Elturian Prodigy - Currently In progress, Explicit due to violence. A story of Rolan, Cal, and Lia, or 'What Baldur's Gate 3 looks like in my head'.

Rolan, Cal, & Lia One shots - General/Teen

A Perfectly Reasonable Exchange. General. Rolan and gn!Tav go on a romantic walk, then Cal and Lia ask how it went.

The Bet. General. Cal and Lia try to keep romantic liaisons secret from Rolan.

Distraction. General. Lia must distract Rolan and Cal so her lover can sneak away.

Our Turn. Teen and Up. Cal and Lia take care of Rolan after he defeats Lorroakan. Emotional hurt. Inspired by this art by @dreaminginpencil.

The Northern Bastards - Aradin & Rugan - Explicit

Multi-Chapter

How To Keep a Man and Lose a Devil. In progress. Explicit sexual content. Aradin makes a deal with Raphael. Concept and title credit to @crowwolf. Spin off fic, follows Parts 1 - 10 (One Night Stand to Ten Out of Ten).

"One-Shots" (Basically a Multi-Chapter fic)

What if Aradin pushed Zevlor too far. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. ZevlorxAradin. Aradin is a piece of shit. Zevlor puts him in his place. Secret Santa.

A One Night Stand at The Blushing Mermaid. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. RuganxAradin. Rugan finds a way to shut Aradin up.

A Second Night Stand at The ElfSong Tavern. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hasn't learned his lesson. In appreciation for @benicemurphy.

A Third Night Stand Under the Stars. Explicit sexual content, dubious consent. Aradin hits rock bottom. Rugan reluctantly tries to help him get his shit together. In appreciation for Merdyr.

Fourth Time's A Charm. Explicit sexual content. Rugan is tasked by the Zhent to kill Aradin. It doesn't quite go to plan. Requested by @fangbanger3000

Five Times Too Many. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin would've been best if they never met again. But they did. In appreciation for @lizziemajestic.

Six Times to Say Goodbye. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin meet for last time (lies). They've a few things to get sorted out. In appreciation of everyone's support.

Seven Times at Night, Once in the Morning. Explicit sexual content. Rugan and Aradin reconnect with actual mature conversation and sex. Rugan catches feels. In appreciation of Octoberskyies.

Eight Times to Get It Right. Explicit sexual content. There's a lot unsaid and unresolved. Time to say it and resolve it. In appreciation of @faerieologymajor and @vera-king-hrfl. Inspired by ideas from @fangbanger3000, @benicemurphy, and @lizziemajestic.

Nine Times to a Confession. Explicit sexual content. Time for love and making love. In appreciation of @forget-me-maybe and bepisfan69.

Ten Out of Ten. A Perfect Score / Too Good to Be True. Explicit sexual content, Major character death, Graphic depictions of violence. The End. In appreciation for @lemonsrosesandlavender, @theycallmeratt, and rolypoly.

At The Eleventh Hour. Explicit sexual content. Bonus mini chapter. Declarations of love. Finally. Inspired by @benicemurphy.

A Twelfth Night. Explicit sexual content. Aradin uses Speak With Dead.

Lucky Number Thirteen. Explicit sexual content. A Happy Ending.

Love Confession Character Analysis (not explicit)

Brew, love? Rugan and Aradin drink some tea. Fluff, slice of life.

Oneshots with Other People's Tavs - Various Ratings

The Night at Last Light Inn. Explicit sexual content, Rolan and M!Tav, Nox, share a passionate night, belonging to and in collaboration with @bihanny.

Memories of Clover. Explicit sexual content, drama & romance with @azrielsbbg's F!Tav, Clover, winner of a Rolan fic giveaway.

Touch of The Tempest. Mature. Rolan tries to teach f!Tav, Nuelith, to control her magic, and triggers a terrifying loss of control. For Mandi.

A Wizard Keeps His Word. Mature. Atop the Elder Brain, Gale sacrifices himself for his lovers f!tav, Kira, and Astarion. For @callmesimplyflo.

Happily Ever After. General, Astarion and Ghost (m!Tav), in domestic bliss. Secret Santa for Eddie.

Despair. Deliberation. Defiance. Mature. The Dark Urge is confronted and comforted by Jay, f!Tav, after slaying a tiefling bard. For jayofthenorth.

Rolan Lore / Head Canon - General

Rolan romantic line suggestion

Descent into Avernus / BG3 theme

Player-is-evil Rolan ending suggestion

Letters from Rolan

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 1

Auntie Ethel Vicious Mockery 2

Rolan, Cal, and Lia react to Ramazith's Tower bathroom

Environment in Ramazith's Tower post-game

Ramazith's Tower post-game part 2

Rolan 'dating service video script'

Rolan's Hair

Cal's Hair

Cal post-game

Rolan Meets With a Therapist

Other Oneshots - Various Ratings

What if Lorroakan was Named Larry Pickle. Mature, Comedy with a lot of silliness and 4th wall breaks.

In Memory of Kanon. General, Kanon, no!

What if Kanon Lived. In progress, not published. An alternate timeline of the game in which, you guessed it, Kanon lived.

Commissioned and Gifted Art

Commissioned art for The Elturian Prodigy by Alvin Asiaten.

A beautiful three panel sexually explicit comic based on the intimate scene in Chapter 35 of the 'What if' fic by Lexindre.

A favourite scene from the 'What if' fic, Lexindre drew this incredible piece from Chapter 36 as a birthday gift.

[regretsofaghost]

Day 29- My love for you is true, I swear it is, it just will kill you in the end

AO3 link to chapter 29- here Tumblr link to chapter 28- here Tumblr link to chapter 30- here

Word count- 1400 words

It was an unpleasant sensation, to wake up without memories.

It reminded him of Hell, in too many ways to count.

To not be able to remember the last death, things blurring together from concussions and panic, not properly encoded into his memory, and thus lost.

But the fear, he would never forget the fear.

The smell caught his attention first, a mix of chemicals and oddly sweet wood, strong in a way that suggested it was attempting to cover up the smell of tobacco and licorice.

Home, it smelt like home.

Charles’ arms were a heavy weight around him, holding Edwin tightly and close, like he were scared Edwin would vanish if he let him go. Edwin shifted slightly, finding his own arms wrapped around the other, holding him just as close. Chest to chest, legs slotted together as comfortably as they could be on their small office couch, wrapped around each other as they were.

Comforting, warm.

What had Edwin done to deserve this?

Charles’ chest rumbled under his ear as he hummed, arms tightening for a second to squeeze Edwin slightly, as if knowing that Edwin would attempt to move away.

He would never feel trapped in Charles’ embrace, never have that stab of panic when he could not move away.

“A wraith, that’s what that, thing, was,” Charles’ voice was low above him, “took Crystal down before we could even get close enough to the treehouse to do anything. Haven’t seen any like it before though, with it being able to shapeshift.”

The Baby-Doll Demon.

The boys who surrounded him as he was sacrificed.

Sa’al.

Simon.

“Didn’t realize till I got Crystal away, remembered the Case of the Sleeping Schoolhouse, place was absolutely crawling with them, wasn’t it?” Charles’ hand had moved from Edwin’s back to his hair, fingers easily gliding through with how mussed it had become over the night. “Remembered your words, focusing on happy thoughts, or emptying your mind, something like that. To not let negative emotions take over.”

“Yes, they feed off of it.” Edwin’s voice was weaker than he would have thought it would be, considering. Small fragments of memories came to mind, the colour blue, Charles in front of him, the creature as it shifted to all the worse memories Edwin had.

“Don’t know if it’s a misery wraith though, with how it changed. Could be just based off attention that one, with how long the house had been abandoned before the Albertson’s moved in-“

“There is a- a Batibat there, as well. Two different, causes of death,” Edwin tried to shift out of Charles’ hold, finding the other did not want to let go, “Charles, please, we cannot discuss cases while wrapped in each other-“

“Why not? Gave me a proper scare last night, you did,” Charles said, and finally, Edwin had pulled away enough to look Charles in the eyes, and found them soft and warm and searching for something, Edwin was not sure what. “I hate when you do that. I am supposed to take care of you, keep you safe. I hate when I can’t.” Charles took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and Edwin watched as he tried to reel himself back in, tried to cover up that tiredness in his eyes. “I haven’t been able to keep you safe in a while, I think. Haven’t, helped, really, in keeping you happy.”

“Charles…”

“I don’t know what you remember from last night, I don’t know if you remember how we got away, or, whatever you did before you showed up and attempted to kick a wraith’s ass, but. I need you to know. I’m- figuring things out. I swear I am.” Charles put his head back, looking at the ceiling, exposing his throat to Edwin, “I just. Can’t. What if I hurt you?”

“Charles, what are you saying? You would never hurt me-“

“But I have, haven’t I? You don’t come to me anymore, not in ways that matter. We work cases, we have our board games, but you don’t- You were covered in blood Edwin. When you came out around that corner with half-mad eyes. I was terrified, and then you demanded that potion- and I couldn’t stop you, could I? Because if I said no, didn’t hand it over, you would still have fought the bloody thing, no matter the odds.” Charles looked back at Edwin, tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, “Edwin. I swear- sometimes you look at me like, I’m the bloody sun or something. And I don’t deserve it, not at all.”

“Charles,” Edwin began, unsure where he was headed, but he could not let them sit in silence when that was the last thing Charles had said, “Do you know, the story of Icarus?”

“Heard of that bloke before, flew too close to the sun and died, didn’t he?”

“In a way,” Edwin sighed, closing his own eyes, “His father, Daedalus, made both Icarus and himself a set of wax wings each to escape from where they were trapped. Daedalus gave his son a warning, to not fly too close to the sun, for the sun’s heat would melt the wax and Icarus would fall to the sea, where he would drown.”

“Yeah, what does that have to do-“

“The other part of his warning, that is often forgotten, is that Icarus had to ensure he would not fly too low either, for the sea spray would make his wings wet, with weighed down feathers he would fall anyway.” Edwin wet his lips, “I often fear that I went too close, with my confession. That I had become Icarus, flying too close to the sun in foolish childishness, liable to lose everything I hold dearest.”

“You didn’t, you won’t, lose everything. Lose me.”

“I fear I, may have went too low instead. That in my fear of flying too close to the sun, I went too close to the sea, and with weighed down feathers, I would bring you along with me.”

Charles was silent for a second, “I’m strong enough for the both of us, I wouldn’t let you drag me down.”

“I led you to Hell, Charles. You never would have known the hands of Lust if it were not for me.”

Charles’ wild swings of his cricket bat against bloodied hands that surrounded him.

“I would do it again, y’know. I would never let Hell keep you.”

“Maybe that is the problem.” Edwin blinked, feeling the tears in his eyes, “I am destined for Hell, Charles. I love you too much to ever allow you to be dragged down with me. I would not ever wish you harm, so I flew low to not let the heat of the sun soften my wings, I flew too close to the sea and caused you harm anyway.”

“…is this about the kiss?”

Tobacco, candy floss, Niko’s voice before he was distracted again by Charles’ lips against his.

“No, I know you had to-“

“I wanted to. It was, an added bonus, that it helped distract you from the wraith.”

“Oh.”

“I have been thinking, about it, a lot. Your confession, my feelings. I know, I haven’t, really been a good friend, lately. You said, you were lonely. You’ve been, taking that potion a lot, along with that other one. Can you let me in again? Let me help?”

“I, do not know how Charles.”

“Why are you lonely?’

“…” Edwin felt the tears in his eyes begin to trail down his cheeks, as he thought, “I have not lost anyone, in a very long time.” He paused, thinking, unsure where to rest his gaze as he thought. “Never someone I would consider close enough to mourn. Human connections were hard enough while we were alive, they seem even more complex in death.” He felt Charles’ hand begin to move in his hair again, a grounding feeling, not too much, not too little, “How does one grieve? Mourn? There is no guide, on how one is expected to show their loss.” Edwin let out a shaky breath, “Niko deserves to be mourned, but I do not know how.”

Charles was silent, for a second, that turned to three, that turned to ten. It was approaching fifty seconds, when Charles was able to find the words, “There’s no rules mate. No guide. Just, what feels right.”

[aintgonnatakethis]

Fun Line Tag Game

Thank you @lancedoncrimsonwings for tagging me!

Rules: Post a line that you're tremendously pleased by and a line that’s just out-of-context ridiculous

I'm taking massive creative licence with what the word 'line' means, but cut me a break 😂 Both these excerpts are from the untitled 450k SGU story I was working on during lockdown and have recently been rereading, setting aside bits that I like and think I can use in other stories.

Pleased by - Telford is the one to recruit Rush, Rush bonds in strange ways:

"Do you have any--" He paused to inhale more smoke because he was still feeling twitchy and he needed to focus. "Good stories?" "About aliens I've killed," Telford replied casually. It wasn't a question but Rush shrugged anyway. "That's really what you want to know." "In for a penny," Rush muttered. His cigarette had burned down and he ground it into the ashtray and lit another. Telford shook his head and Rush was weighing up his options on how to get him to talk when he shrugged carelessly. "Before we practically wiped the Goa'uld out, they used to camp down in lakes when there weren't any hosts around. Pretty much impossible to see them if they didn't surface and we couldn't avoid every body of water we came across. Kid called Murray was washing dirt off his hands when one of them came out of the water and burrowed straight into him." The detached, impersonal way Telford was recounting the memory made Rush feel sick, even though he had asked for it. He wanted to know this. He did. "One of the other guys held him down and I tried to pull it out. It was young and hadn't aimed quite right; got more of his shoulder than his neck, so it couldn't wrap around his spine. We'd gotten to him quick and I managed to pull it free." Telford took a last drag and flicked the stub out of the window. "It brought his shoulder blade with it. But hey. He lived." Rush felt cold and shivery, but he deserved this. He’d asked for it. "What did it feel like?" From the corner of his eye he saw Telford look at him but refused to turn himself. There was a long silence and he thought he wouldn't get an answer. "Like… a baby eel," Telford said finally, "before they get their tough skin. Too soft for what it was." Have you killed a lot of baby eels, Rush wanted to ask. He couldn't seem to get his tongue to work though, which was probably a blessing. He imagined smooth skin beneath his hands, slimy and slightly wet from a lake. He imagined the blood, the screaming, having to pull a man's bones out through his skin; because it was to save him, from something worse, from walking around in his own skin a prisoner. He imagined dropping the alien on the ground and crushing it beneath his boot. He imagined never being able to relax around water again.

Ridiculous - completely normal and safe things to say when you're being "interviewed" by the US military:

The first man hummed irritably and shuffled his papers again. "You are not a US citizen. Who did you vote for when you were based in the UK?" The sudden change of gears made Rush laugh. "You’re asking me about my political opinions?" They all looked at him expectantly. The ice still hadn’t worn off and Rush didn’t know what to say, so he said the first thing that came into his head. "I’ve always thought communism was quite good."

Tagging: @fortunatetragedy @the-golden-comet @moltenwrites @viscerawrites @aggsh-shs + OPEN

[legochaotixmechz]

ROBY HEADCANONS LETS GOO

Warning Spoilors ofc-

He has a HIGH sugar intake

• His parents have scolded him in the past when doctors' notes came in talking abt if he takes anymore he'll croak

>Doesn't care tho still chugs soda among other sugary drinks like it is his life source

• When things get quiet/at random moments he'll just scream and then act like nothing happened

• Stang zoot / ROAR is a vocal stim for him now ( roar especially even if Wyle isn't around )

• On a call with his parents he talked abt Wyldfyre all giddy then just casually mentioned his uncle tried to kill him and then went back to being a giddy mess

>His parents were like "WHA!?? YOUR UNCLE WHAT?"

>And Roby's just like "Yeah yeah I sent him to jail but anyways!"

• Roby practices his mannerisms and energy in the mirror

> He is a naturally energetic guy don't get me wrong but he practices in the mirror to make sure he gives off a good type of energy that people will enjoy

>After every game he says to himself "YES, FCKING NAILED THAT- THEY ALL THINK I'M NEUROTYPICAL !!"

• Roby uses a lot of slang / silly language if he ever gets into serious conversation and if in conversation that makes himself uncomfortable as a defense mechanism

• He loves vocaloid/Uta

>He listens to The World Is Mine before the game to hype himself

> 1# Teto stan and defender

• Fav music genres are N-pop, regular pop, Rock ( any kind he doesnt mind), techno, and that hyper Pacific music that sounds like being on acid named things like "bong cats bleeding rainbows" or smth

• If he were a Pokmon trainer he would have normal, dragon, steel and fighting pokemon

• Based on the sugar headcanon at the start. He once did a challenge on his ninjatok where he didn't eat any sugar for a week

>By Wednesday he was losing his color and tweaking without a sweet treat after every meal ( he's being dramatic )

>And By the end challenge he almost couldn't even post the last video and once it was done he scarfed down a whole tray of sugar cookies

• He sweeps in sleep-over/party game. >Especially rhythm game !

>Wyldfyre invited him over to a sleepover and he mopped the floor with everyone in Rhythm Heaven, Guitar Hero and Ddr

>Eventually they switched to Mario's party but he swept everyone again

•>They just kept going through games ( super smash bros, Mario Kart, uno etc) eventually Gave up and made him sit on the couch as everyone else played

• If he knows you. He'll know your birthday. And the spilt second it turns midnight on the day before your b day he'll spam you with "HAPPPY BIRTHDAYY BITFHHH HAVE AMAZING FUN AND AWESOME BIRTHDAYY STANG ZOOT!!!!!!!" and then send a voice memo of him singing happy birthday but with brainrot words

• He has 5 phones, 3 laptops, 10 PCs and 15 game consoles. Don't think you can ever ban my man from any social media or game he'll always come back.

• Favorite fruits are mangos, raspberries, blueberries and tomatoes

• In one of the games Roby saw smth flying over their head and just stopped everything to stare at it. So for A good bit, there was just no commentary from him or shots of the fight it was just the camera facing down

• Robys a Lil nasty in terms of if he tries smth he doesn't like he projectile spits

• He's the biggest yapper when watching movies. Always commenting on everything and crafting theories on the spot

• He can recite the entirety of the Heather's musical to a t

• In his free time he guest host talk shows (like Jerry Springer/Oprah but imagine ninjago ver) and his FAVORITE thing is "You are not/are" the father

> He has ran laps around the studio as everything breaks into chaos after every single "are you or not the father" answer reveals

> He even got a show canceled after the incident of him going too far and sending a baby flying by accidentally kicking the baby's carage

• He loves playing roblox and claims his dad owns roblox ALWAYS

• Smells like satin fabric, charcoal, chocolate

• When he sleeps he goes "Honk mimimimimimi" and hugs a comically small teddy bear with a little sleeping cap

Anyways thanks for listing to me yap

[ballcrusher74]

WOOOHOOOO IM ALLOWED TO ASK ALOT OF QUESTIONS YIPEEEE!!!!!

▪︎Do you have any fandom ocs but ARENT lethal company that youd ever like to talk about :0?

▪︎What ever happened to Jawbreaker's (your sona) homeplanet after he left, I remember the story was he was exceptional but insubordinate so like, did anyone get fired for letting that guy just scramble away

▪︎who is your favourite oc presently! :3 and have you any miscellaneous facts about them?

▪︎what's in the gyatt folder

▪︎ since Metronoia (I hope I spelled that right from memory) is a dimension/reality hopper, how does other realities effect his state of being, has there ever been a reality the guy found unpleasant or dare I say scary‼‼‼‼‼‼‼😲

CRAKCING FINGERS. YUES. I LOVE BEING AUTISTIC ABOUT MY OWN CHARACTERS.

Yes, I do ! I have some roblox ocs, two being for the game Regretevator ! Broseth is just a completely original guy that I had created based off one of my avatars, and Gamma Ray was kinda ... a shameless semi-self insert character to be buddies with one of my favorite characters in game (Mach)

I also have this guy, Tixton ! Based off the now deceased roblox currency, he was apart of a friend roblox oc group called Investors ! There's a long story to it all, but Tixton's whole deal was him being an undead ghost guy that was so hellbent on the idea of being alive again (he died with the removal of tix, and was young when that happened) that he basically tried to steal someone's body. I seem to have a liking for making undead / weirdly semi-undead characters, huh

Moving on from roblox, here's Bumbo ! A guy that was originally made for a fanbase I really don't wanna name, but has now been converted into a BBIEAL / Baldi mod oc ! Originally I was gonna kinda leave him the dirt after leaving aforementioned unnamed fandom, but my boyfriend helped me redesign him for his own Baldi mod / fangame ^_^ <3 Now he is my bumbling sweet baby boy

Now moving to . Ourple FNF ... ? There was this guy I created, Aerguhbee ! Though, I very much fell off of keeping up with Ourple / FNF stuff in general for a lot of reasons, I still kinda like this guy. He had a bit of a sloppy story, and it never really was even completed, but from what I remember- he was a trapped soul within a security monitor, killed in his place of work as a nightguard. The monitor served as an eternal purgatory for him called 'Moire Edge'. He was able to manifest a form outside of the monitor in order to lure others into his forever limbo, under the guise of becoming friends. If anything, I might just bring back this guy as a wholly original character since I do still kinda fuck with him

And, before going onto the next question (FINALLY), I'll throw in a bonus : Deacon originally wasn't LC related ! He was a Toontown : Corporate Clash oc, which is such a MAJOR contrast compared to how he is now LOL . I don't think he really had much of story when he was a TT:CC character, besides the fact of being secretly miserable about his job, but I think that's really it. I'll admit I kinda miss his really bright yellow, but I am so much more happier with him now (featuring my toon sona / oc in the last pic but this ain't about him)

As for Jawbreaker's home planet, they most likely are continuing on their lives as normal. Metsu probably does wonder where he went off to, but hey- not their problem anymore. As for what happened to the guards that failed to capture him again after his prison escape, they most likely were shattered (killed) and their resources recycled

THIS IS A TOUGH ONE. I think it's also just because all my original ocs are very personal to me and I genuinely treat them as parts of myself segmented into their own stories and worlds. Though, if I really have to pick one, I think it would be my art deity guy- which, I am kinda getting tired of just saying that, so I'll just say his name : Abstrakt Mondrian. He is very much an oc of mine that I hold close to my heart, especially considering his story deals with grief, and it almost sounds stupid to say he is an oc of mine that has helped me through a lot ? Also, design wise, I just really like him. Like, I'm not fucking joking when I say that I've had this guy for 4-ish years and his design has barely changed at ALL . It's crazy

Metanoia jumping to different dimensions does very much fuck up his appearance, and there have been a couple places he's found very dissatisfying or horrifying ! These dimensional distortions don't last whenever he exits the dimension that causes it, but it's not that pleasant for him in the moment. These distortions can range from very minimal things, things he can handle, such as a simple change of colors or height, to distortions that almost make him unrecognizable and feel uncomfortable in his own body. Here are some quick examples I did of those !

( Btw, distortions can be fucking crazy. The main thing about them is they could be literally any style and still work, so if anyone wants to take a crack at one you can literally go insane and do whatever LOL )

[renren-006]

To Love and Trust | Negan x Reader

summery: you love negan and you have since its been the two of you alone in the world. and you want him to live passted this war him and rick started

word count: 1330

a/n: so i have to admit i do have a bit off a liking to Jeffrey Dean Morgan, i mean who dosent!! so in the spirit of the last post i made about negan heres more Redemption works because Negan is a well written character with some hidden sweet sides. let me know if you want more or if you have ideas!!

Negan is one of the hardest and kindest people you know. Sure he killed people and sure he had a bunch of “wifes”, but he cared and deep down you knew he didn't want to kill people. Negan loved you, that was another thing you were certain about. 

He took those wives as a collateral and as a way to keep up his hard macho leader exterior. The women that were married to him got benefits and were kept safe. You told him it was a nice thing for them, being safe and that they know he wasn't going to do anything to them or with them. Before Negan became Negan he met you. 

When he met you, you were thinner, jumpier and a head case. You refused to listen to him when he tried to save you multiple times and you refused care from him when you kept scraping and bruising yourself. You absolutely despised him.

“Negan get off me” You said, pushing him back with your legs after he tied you to a tree. 

“Then stop leaving, you are going to get yourself killed, being alone out there”

“Uggggg” You said putting your head back on the tree and letting yourself relax under the ropes. 

“This is what I get for helping someone” Negan muttered as he made a small fire. 

Your relationship went from captee to friend to something more in a matter of a few years. At first you despised him and the bat he had, you dispised the way he wanted to help you but then that changed. After getting used to him and the personality he truly had you began to trust him. Whether that was navigating through the highway, trees or cities, or bandaging wounds, you trusted him. From trust came a strong emotional connection and then love. When it turned to love you wanted to run, you wanted to get eaten by a walker, you were scared more for loving him than of the dead. So when the two of you were trapped in a room, afraid you were going to die you told him.

“I can't find a way out, '' Negan said after scouring the room, the windows and where the other doors led to. There were walkers everywhere, and the windows didn't open. “Damn it”

“I love you,” you said. Spitting the words out before you could take them back. Negan looked over at you, practically giving himself whiplash 

“You love me?” he asked you, as he walked over to where you were sitting on the floor. 

“I…were trapped in a room and I am having a hard time thinking I'm going to live so, yes I love you and I have to tell you” You told him. 

“We're going to live through this, and when we do, I want you to tell me again.” he told you, kissing your forehead. 

You did end up living and within the hour of living through it you told him again, practically yelling it at him in the woods, which turned into him telling you how you're going to attract walkers and then it turned to laughter and him telling you he loves you longer than you have loved him. That day was more of a promise between the two of you. To love and trust one another through the rest of your life. 

Now you live with a different man based on who he is with. With you, it's the man you fell in love with, with the others, Negan, leader of the saviors. You hated seeing how he split himself into different people. 

“Hey hun i'm home” He told you as he came inside the door. The two of you had the biggest room in the compound, and by all rights. Our room looked homey, a bed, some couches, and a place for you to play little card games when one of you can't sleep so the other finds a way to distract you, although it was mostly you doing the not sleeping. 

“Hi baby” you told him as he walked further into the room. He  looked exhausted, you could tell just by the look in his eyes. You watched the tattoos on his arms expose themselves to you as he stripped himself from his leather jacket he wore, and the white t-shirt underneath. There he was, your Negan, back in your room, back in your space. 

“Leave with me” You told him. The words slipped out before you could think twice. Negan's eyes trailed to yours. The tank top and jeans you had on felt like they disappeared just by the look he gave you. 

“Sweetheart,” he said smoothly.

“No, I'm being serious, I'm the one who's talking” you told him, which got him to sit, his shirt still off and his jeans still on. All you wanted was to get him naked of course, get to feel Negan, your Negan on your skin and on your lips again, but that had to wait. “I love you, but this person, this other person you have taken the role of…I don't know him. The way the world has become and the way these new people are ready to fight back at you makes me scared for us, for you”

“They can't hurt us” Negan said, putting his arms down like he wanted to stand. But I crouched down by his knees, sitting between them in his chair. 

“Yes they can, I don't think killing more of their people is going to stop them or send the right message. They killed your men and you went and killed theirs. That was a choice you made without thinking about the consequences” You said, bargaining with him. 

“Baby” He said, holding your face now. 

“I love you, Negan, but I need you to choose the right thing. I need you to make peace with them for my sake and for your life” You told him. “If they fight, if they do. This will be a war and I don't want to see you dead or barely alive when they drop you at my feet. Do you hear me Negan Smith? I am your wife, and i am telling you, you are not dying today because of a decision the two of you made” 

“Okay, okay” He said, holding you while you cried. For once in your life he begged him not to die, to stay with you, because he did the same thing when you tried to leave him a long time ago. Love and trust were something the two of you had. 

When he went with you to Alexandria and you met Rick for the first time you could see why he was hard on them, they were him. Rick was like Negan except they took different paths. You sat as they talked and yelled and argued. You sat while a girl yelled and screamed and wanted to gut him for the man she lost to your husband. You continued to sit as the discussion turned sad and real and understanding. It took all day, and it took another day for the Savors to retrieve the stuff they took from Alexandria who made a list of everything they wanted back. You made sure the men followed through, and you went with Dwight when he dropped it off, of course Dwight hated being babysat. Still you were there for peace and for love, and you trusted your husband and the men that followed him that there were to be no more killings of the Alexandrian, The Hilltoppers and the Kingdoms people.

“I told you no one was going to kill us, '' Negan said to you that night everything finally calmed down, underneath the white sheets and naked next to you. 

“All thanks to me” you said as you looked up from your position next to him, with your head on his heart. 

“All thanks to you Y/N” Negan said, kissing your forehead. 

[queeniecook]

January 18 - Part 2

Joey sits on the couch in the newly decorated living room with his cat by his side. He likes what Jillian has done with the space, it has character now but his mind drifts to his confusion.

"Why do I feel like James is familiar? Or maybe he reminds me of someone I used to know?" Joey asks his cat, who is sitting by him. If he didn't know any better, he'd say the feline has a look of concern in her eyes. "Maybe I should stop thinking so hard about it and it might come to me?"

Joey has to get ready for a short shift at work and Annabel Lee moves on to focus her attention on someone else.

Jillian picks up the cat after being meowed at several times and let's the cat climb on her shoulders. "One more month to go, can you believe it?" She asks Annabel Lee, while cradling her ever growing baby bump. Something she's dreamed about for years is close to coming true.

Both females hear the door open and shut downstairs, meaning Joey has gone to work and Dakota has returned from the base. Jillian moves the cat into her arms and sets her down on the bed before going downstairs to greet her boyfriend.

"The living room looks great though it reminds me a bit of your house in Strangerville." Dakota comments, putting his arm around his pregnant girlfriend.

Jillian laughs softly and shrugs "That's kind of what I was going for. Even though it ended up being haunted by a ghost that tried to kill me, I did love the look of that place."

The two sit on the couch, enjoying each other's company and half paying attention to the game show on the TV in front of them. Dakota begins to rub Jillian's shoulders which leads to her giving him that look that means she wants to head upstairs to their bedroom.

But first, Jillian wants to put on something special for Dakota. Which means he has to wait.

"What up?" Joey asks with a nod of his head. He's glad tonight's shift was a short one and he could return home quickly.

"I'm just seeing how you are. We work different shifts so, we don't always get to see each other." Dakota tells him, he doesn't want straight up say why he's waiting in Joey's room. Even if Joey is his brother. 

Joey nods his head. "I'm alright. You?" 

"I'm fine." Dakota replies. The silence descends and Joey shuts off his computer monitor. He's debating if he should say anything and so far, he's tried to give Jillian time to mention it but it's been almost a month. "Did Jillian tell you James stopped in to give her a book last month?"

Dakota stares at his brother, which gives Joey his answer. "Nothing bad happened..that I know of. She was safe when I got home and he left."

"I see." Dakota says quietly. His mind is racing, why didn't Jillian tell him about this? It's not that he thinks anything sexual happened between the two but he doesn't trust James at all and his girlfriend knows that. Not too long ago, he, along with many others were worried James was going to kidnap Vera's baby when she was born. That along with some of the other behavior displayed by the warlock makes him not trust the man. 

"I'm not trying to cause problems..I just know how you feel about James...I tried to give her time to tell you..." Joey starts to ramble out of nervousness. He feels like he ratted Jillian out and it makes him feel bad.

"Hey, it's cool. I'm glad you told me." Dakota tells him honestly, patting his half brother on the shoulder before heading to his bedroom. He doesn't want Joey feeling bad for coming forward but he's upset with his girlfriend for not telling him about it. 

"James came to see you?" is the first thing out of Dakota's mouth when he sees Jillian, his tone is one of accusation for not telling him and he can see it ignites Jillian's rarely seen temper. He doesn't even have time to appreciate the little outfit she put on for him. 

Jillian stops in her tracks, this was not what she was expecting at all. "Yes. He gave me a book. What's the problem with that?" She asks, hand on her hip. She knows she should have told Dakota sooner but it wasn't like James did something wrong to her. He gave her a book. A book she loves to read. 

"He's James! He can't be trusted!" Dakota exclaims, he can feel his annoyance rising at the idea of James in their home and near his pregnant girlfriend. He already didn't like the fact that James approached Jillian at the cafe last month but it's a public place. He can't exactly stop someone from going somewhere in public.

"I can be trusted!" Jillian shouts, jabbing her finger at him. "I don't appreciate your tone, Dakota.  It's not like we climbed into bed together!" She knows Joey had to tell him and while she could get mad at Joey for it she's a bit mad at herself for not saying something to her boyfriend about the visit but the way Dakota is handling it is not setting well with her and her pregnancy hormones. 

"My tone? You're the one who kept something from me." Dakota says, lowering his voice but his tone hasn't lost it's bite. Even though he's gotten better with his temper over the years, doesn't mean he doesn't still have one and doesn't think he's overreacting by wanting the mother of his unborn child safe. 

"He brought me a book." She repeats. "We talked a little bit. He used the bathroom. He left when Joey came home from work! That was it."

"You thought that was normal? James having a conversation with someone???" He asked her, trying to get her to see how abnormal it is. He's about to rip out his hair in frustration but manages not to make any wild gestures. 

"Don't talk to me like I'm stupid, Dakota." Jillian's voice drops low and she's glaring at him. She backs up, feeling tears about to come to hear eyes. "I can't handle this."

<-previous/next->

[riveriafalll]

Writeblr introduction I guess?

Guess what bitches (affectionate) I’ve been here for like six months and I’m finally making a writeblr introduction. I have just vibed within the community for all this time, and I reckon it’s time to actually confirm my existence as an actual writer.

A bit about me: you can call me River, I mainly write fanfiction for quite a few fandoms, I’m a full time student, I use all pronouns (agender bitches for the win) and autistic currently seeking diagnosis.(in this economy? I know, right?)

I’m open for all tag games and asks (please include me, I promise I won’t procrastinate on the tag game until it’s three weeks later and it’s too awkward to post it then)

Here is my master list of wips, categorised by fandom. The majority of these are not being regularly written in, but they all will one day find a home on the archive I promise.

I will link them up to their respective WIP introduction pages as they happen, if you want to hear about one sooner, let me know <3

Harry Potter

No Time to Die: Drarry au where I kill off Draco in the first scene, have many clever plot-fixes and throw in as much LGBTQ rep as I can

Aelia Lovegood - Luna Lovegood has a pyromaniacal twin who is trying to fix racism by punching Nazi children in the face. It’s mostly working

Oh dear it’s a time loop fic - Draco and Hermione are trapped in a time loop, what will they do? (Troll everyone for basically eternity, and try not to go mad)

The fic where Harry is a sociopath, and goes full homicidal mode on Voldemort along with a scary Hermione and a power-hungry Ron - eh the title explains it well enough

when stars collide (a black hole forms) - a person from our world falls into the HP universe, and immediately tries to mother hen her family out of being evil. Callidora is the twin sister of Bellatrix, and spends the next thirty or so years attempting to fix everyone through the power of love. It works most of the time.

Harry Potter and the job he should have gotten - thirteen years after the end of the War, Minerva McGonagall has a staffing crisis and breaks into people’s homes until they agree to teach. Harry/Theo Knott, Hermione/Pansy and Draco girlbossing it by himself while figuring out how to be a single father.

Marvel

Of Godparents and Aunt-sassins - Jokingly, a couple name the godparent of their new child as Loki. No one expects him to except. Ava is a menace, Loki is a gender fluid icon, a wonderful brother and a terrible influence, Natasha is the vodka aunt, Clint is the fun uncle, Cooper Barton is the responsible one, Peter is a tiny adorable baby who gets adopted, and the Avengers live the 2012 Tower life

SHIELD: An Unofficial Guide - based off the SHIELD survival tips blog here on tumblr, written up in a guide-book form, complete with neatly organised chapters and unique anecdotes

A Glitch in the System - Glitch, a winter-widow and the last remanent of HYDRA, is sent to assassinate the Avengers. When she fails, she runs away and meets a certain spider-child on a rooftop. Featuring a teenage Loki, an amnesiac Pietro and a certain blonde widow, who’ve all moved into May Parker’s apartment, and a lot of miscommunication between just about everyone

Loki doki timey wimey - set during Thor:Ragnorok, Tony and co notice that Loki has reappeared on Midgard, and promptly break into Doctor Stranges house to question him. Dr S promptly gets very annoyed by Tony and Lokis inability to get on, and sends them away to the magical equivalent of a get along shirt, which goes wrong and leaves Tony and Loki stranded in a time loop. They’re under the impression that the loop will break when they learn to get along, Dr Strange is doing nothing to disillusion them of that.

(This is the image that my beta once_and_future_fandoms made when I ranted about it to them)

Another life - something I started before the Loki show came out (take that Marvel), starts at the beginning of Infinity War, when a female Loki dies at the hands of Thanos, meets the personification of the universe, merges with the Tesseract, leaving her with a shapeshifting familiar and teleporting powers. She then travels briefly through the multiverse and lands in the OG Marvel universe, with a Tom Hiddleston themed Loki and attempts to fix stuff through the power of having a giant snake and knives.

Bucky and the time he lived in the woods with his murder daughters - Bucky escapes from HYDRA in the 90s with Natasha and Yelena. They live in the mountains of Romania together, learning how to be actual real life people and incidentally becoming cryptida along the way. Natasha and Yelena join SHIELD in their early twenties, and continue happily along their way in the canon plot, until their father James comes to visit the Avengers Tower after the Battle of New York, and bumps into a familiar blonde…

Supernatural

Woahhhh it’s Emmy - Emmy, (long for MJ, short for Mary Junior), is the standard extra Winchester OC, twin sister of Sam, who is almost as bad at talking through her problems as Dean is. While Sam went to Smamford, and Dean ran around with John, Emmy started a weapons dealing company for hunters, travelling around under the guise of an occult shop. She reluctantly joins back up with her brothers in season 1, just to make sure her dumbasses don’t get themselves killed. She solves half of the shows problems with a glock.

Doctor Who

Who the fuck is Sally Sparrow? - Kat Sparrow has grown up knowing that things live in the darkness. The Sparrows are known by all the intelligence agency’s of the world, for their abilities to find and trap those things. Their specialty? Angels. When River Song appears on her doorstep one night, telling her that she has an angel to catch, Kat does the only thing she can, and joins the Doctor, River and Amy in the TARDIS to catch it. Kat thinks it’s fantastic, Amy enjoys having a friend whos roughly her age, and River is cryptic as ever. The Doctor, however, would really like to know how the hell a human girl is capable of subduing the most deadly creature in the universe.

Redo of Sally Sparrow except there’s no Sally Sparrow and a completely different plot line - When River tumbles into the TARDIS at the start of the infamous Maze of the Angels episode, she brings someone else with her - her adopted daughter, Astra. Unknown to 11, Astra is his child from the future, the result of a coupling between 12 and Missy, who was partially raised by both of them and the other half by River. Featuring: Astra is briefly evil and genocidial, Astra gets therapy with 14 and Donna, Astra flirts constantly with half of his companions, River, Missy and 13 all walk into a bar, and the combination of lesbianism causes a rift in time and space, and someone really needs to stop 12 from naming people after his past companions.

The Vampire Diaries

TVDeeznuts - Cassie Gilbert, twin sister of Jeremy, heads off to an out of state boarding school after being compelled by Damon in an attempt to protect the first person to have trusted him unconditionally in the last hundred and fifty years. Yes, he might have been a crow for half of it, but the thought is what counts, right? Unfortunately, being the danger magnet she is, Cassie immediately manages to befriend a local artist by the name of Nik Mikaelson. Three kidnappings later, Cassie is the first honorary Mikaelson since Marcel. Let’s just hope it doesn’t go quite as bad as his did.

Shadow hunters

Making my OCs be adopted by a bunch of vampires has nothing to do with my parental issues I promise - Autumn, a rather shy twelve year old, is Turned into a vampire rather unexpectedly by a less than stable Maureen who wants to be best friends forever. She immediately attaches herself to Raphael, who is horrified, but ultimately decides that he can use the situation to gaslight Magnus into believing that she’s always been around. Autumn has no objections, Lily thinks it hilarious, and Elliot is just happy to have a little sister.

Shadow hunting my multiple mental illnesses - Astoria Fray is perfectly normal. She does her homework, eats far too many chips, and goes out to parties with her best friends Lily, Elliot and Raphael. And then her mom gets kidnapped, her sister goes missing, her uncle won’t talk to her, and a very sparkly man tells her that he’s a friend of her mothers and that she can stay at his place. And as if that wasn’t enough, turns out that she’s not human, her dad is shadow hunter Hitler, and vampires, werewolf’s and warlocks are real.

At least Lily and Raphael are still normal. Right?

we'll never get free (lamb to the slaughter) - Magnus Bane is forced to baby-sit a precocious, morally-grey Warlock child. It goes about as well as you'd imagine.

Fourth Wing

Fourth wing more like fortieth wip - Elyrion Melgren (currently going under the name Elyrion Foxe) lived in Tyrrendor for the first fourteen years of her life, while her father led the armies of Navarre, spending her days exploring the city with her best friend Xaden. Six years later, she hasn’t seen Xaden since the apostasy, and has been forbidden by her father to go into the Riders, as he doesn’t want her to interact with the Marked Ones. Elyrion promptly ignores his orders, crosses Parapet, and joins the revolution.

Throne of Glass

Cadre Coparenting - what could go wrong? -Two years after Aelin Galathynius was born, her sister, Aurelia arrived. Born with powers of darkness and death, Evalin and Rhoe have no choice but to send her to the only person with experience in controlling powers like hers - her Aunt, Maeve. Maeve promptly passes the child off to her loyal bloodsworn until she’s old enough to be useful to her. Between the six of them, the Cadre just about manage to raise a singular child, despite Aurelia's best attempts to be difficult. It’s entirely her fault that half of Doranelle now believes that Lorcan and Rowan are divorced, and co-parenting their daughter together with Gavriel and Vaughan, their new partners, and Fenrys and Connall, her brothers.

Twilight

Twi-mental breakdown-light - Twilight if Bella had a precocious ten year old sister, and Edward and Bella raise her in aroace solidarity. Esme is delighted that she finally gets a grandchild, and Emmett is not responsible enough to baby sit.

[ancenth]

I think you should do all the numbers for the storytelling ask 💖

ELLE THAT'S SO MUCH thank you i love this

under the cut bc LONG

what’s the last screenshot you’ve taken for your story?

lol this one, but you've already seen it bc I haven't had time/energy to shoot more

describe your story in three words or less

im a wordy bitch so this is hard for me BUT let's go with: haunted by past (for gen 4)

describe (insert character here) in three words or less

I did an RNG with the characters listed on my character page and got Sapphire so: just a baby

how did you choose the name of your story?

In terms of the legacy name, I was thinking about last names for my white berry founder, and thought Mirror sounded cool, and I didn't really see it too often amongst other BPRs, so I went with it! In terms of each individual gen (gen titles can be found on the full story hub here!), some were named after the fact (Beginnings and Dreams), but I tried to choose names that reflected the overall story of the gen/what the biggest things are. So like, I feel like Beginnings, Dreams, and Nightmares are extremely on the nose after the fact, and tbh all the others are very on the nose too! Similar to how Dreams and Nightmares are kind of part one and part two of the Garden introduction arc, Mishaps and Shattered are also going to be part one and two of their own mini arc too :)

how do you choose your characters’ names?

Typically after things that suit the colors! But also some are based on things that suit their story/concept! For example, Jasper is orange like the stone, but also jasper the stone tends to represent protection/grounding and calming your troubles (in my very basic understanding) which I thought was a fun reference to his bella swan powers. I very occasionally hide things in names.

how long have you been working on your story for?

Oh man I started it in spring of 2020!!!!! It's been four and a half years, that's wild. I'm impressed I've gotten to gen 4 already, I never thought I'd get out of gen 2

whats the biggest risk you’ve taken with your story? did it pay off?

i feel like briefly killing Irus was a bit of a risk lol I wanted to scream that it was gonna be okay while I was posting that, but I feel like it paid off bc that scene turned out so amazing and I love how well I managed to pull it off

what about your story are you proud of?

See above!! I feel like in general I've gotten a lot better at writing as this has gone on! I also LOVE whenever I get to make gifs for my story, it's so fun

what about your story are you looking to improve on?

Still my writing/delivery of scenes lol I've gotten a lot better but I still struggle when writing certain conversations or fleshing out the plot points between A and Z. Like gen 2 was way too long winded, but then I feel like gen 3 was too short/I didn't expand on things enough

is your story fully planned or are you still working things out? is there a definitive end?

There is a definitive end! I don't have the entire thing fully written, but I have gen 4 set, 5 is mostly set, 6 is like 25%, and then the general concepts/maybe a few scenes of 7 8 and 9. I kind of think of gen 1 as it's own thing and then 2-6 as the first act, and 7-9 as the second act.

why have you decided to tell this story? are there any messages or meanings within it?

tbh it just started as my silly little berry sim story, and morphed into this giant supernatural monstrosity, so really it's just I'm having fun with it and getting to be creative :)

do you actually play the game or do you just use it as a storytelling medium?

haha noooo i definitely never play the sims.... but no like actually i do legitimately love playing this game, and you'd THINK that means I'd post more gameplay, but my problem with that is I either spend too much time taking screenshots and then barely make any progress, or I get too locked in and forget to take screenshots

from basic planning to a finished post, how long does that take you?

On average, it takes me like 30min to write the dialogue for a scene, and then maybe like 30min to actually shoot it (depending on the complexity/number of sims), and then like. 15 seconds per image for editing because I have a PSD and editing actions that I use to speed up the process, and then like maybe another 30min drafting the posts before I add them to my queue (which is taking longer now bc 50% of the time tumblr goes "oops! something went wrong!" when i try to upload a photo and it's driving me insane). Obviously things like making poses/gifs, or drawing in magic effects, or searching for hyper specific poses make it take longer!

do you have any regrets about your story so far? if you could go back in time, how would you fix these?

I really wish I was a better writer back when I killed Howlite! It feels very shoehorned in and like I just killed her for the sake of killing her which I absolutely hate and tbh kinda ruins gen 1 for me! but we're gonna have a Howlite backstory told in flashbacks eventually, so I'll hopefully get to right some wrongs

what have been the highlights of creating your story?

reactions from people!! obviously I love getting comments on my post, but I also love when I see someone clearly going through and catching up on the story and liking every post as they go lol

what about the process do you enjoy?

i looooovvveeeeee dropping little hints and foreshadowing in my story, i have a folder where I am keeping every single hint/reference I've ever made to a huge plot detail of gen 5 and I cannot wait to post it. this has been going on since 2020

what about the process do you hate?

uploading/queuing and also the fear at the back of my mind that one day tumblr is going to shut down and my magnum opus will vanish

choose a song that reminds you of your story

lol so i initially wrote the answer to the next one for this one before i saw what was below this so UHHH it's hard to narrow my story down to one song! I feel like each gen is such a different vibe. I'm gonna say gen 4 as a whole and go with Daffodil by Florence :)

choose a song that reminds you of (insert character here)

I'm doing all my heirs, so my picks for each gen (that I have playlists for so far) in order starting with Star are: 1. In Bloom - Neck Deep 2. Cowboy Blues - Kesha (this one is just kinda funny for Holly lol) 3. Sleep - MCR 4. I Will Follow You into the Dark - Death Cab (for Carn)/Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) - Florence (for Yarrow) 5. The Archer - Taylor Swift 6. Family Tree (Intro) - Ethel Cain/Millstone - Brand New Plus a bonus Howlite song: Valley of the Dolls - Marina

choose your favourite shot from your story so far

ohhh there's a lot but lets go with these:

choose your least favourite shot so far

these bc some idiot (me) messed up the wall settings/made build mode errors. no joke i think about these all the time. they haunt me

choose a favourite character from your story so far

haha i have no idea who my favorite character is. not a single clue

choose your least favourite character so far

lotus bc i just irrationally hate him

are there any characters who remind you of yourself?

Holly when she's spiraling and overthinking and avoiding her problems lol also gen 5 and her caffeine addiction

what inspirations have you drawn on for your story?

definitely music a ton! I'll be listening to a song and then go "OH THAT COULD BE A FUN THING TO DO" and get an idea for a plot point. But also folklore and things! There was actually a pretty major piece of gen 3 that got cut at the last second because it was based on a folktale that was hyper specific to where I'm from, and I just ended up not being comfortable with posting that! Maybe one day I'll share what was meant to be, but no time soon

have other sim stories inspired you? 

yes!!! @tainoodles Fairyfloss BPR was the very first sims story I read and it made me get into berries and here we are :) and @simblrinterests Light Family BPR definitely pushed me to magic and supernatural things

what genres would you describe your story as?

Depends on the gen, but 1-3 definitely have that teen drama vibe, and then 2-the end is fantasy, and 4 is a bit dark academia

if you could reproduce your story in another medium (movie, novel, comic, etc.) what would you choose and why?

Possibly novel or graphic novel. I feel like a graphic novel could be fun bc I have a background in illustration and I'd get more visual freedom than I can achieve in the sims! As for a novel, it would be similar reasons! It is easier to describe things than it is to show them in the sims!

what would your story’s rating be? (G, PG, M etc.)

PG-13 maybe??? Maybe higher technically bc of swearing??

if you were leaving simblr and had to choose another creator to continue the story for you, who would you ask?

oh man I don't think I could ask someone to carry out this monstrosity. I'd probably just drop the links to my docs for people to read lol

drop some random trivia about your story

some of my favorite folder/scene names are "all according to keikaku (keikaku means plan)" "bella swan" "HOWLITE!!!!!!!!" "so..... we fucked up" "FUN-eral!" (tragically cut, that was Aster and Porcelain going to Pearl's funeral) "BRO ANSWER YOUR TEXTS" and in the scrapped gen 1 reboot "Rosalie energy" idk why I reference twilight so much

give a light spoiler

by sheer technicality, the gen 5 heir has already appeared in the story

recommend another creator’s story!

elle i know you're the one who sent this but for anyone else who has made it this far, pls go read the Labyrinth legacy by @lazarish, and ALSO the Dream legacy by @mmmatchasims

[bookishfeylin]

Hello! I popped in a few days ago to say how much I love your blog and I thought I would circle back a little bit with some of my (messy) thoughts on the ACOTAR series from an LGBTQ+ perspective. (Maybe I could make a side blog for this. God knows how I struggle with the horrible writing in the Dragon Age games on main). My credentials: trans man and bisexual, but I’d like to blanket that I don’t speak for the entire community and, of course, I am speaking from my own experiences.

So, the first lgbtq+ character prominent we’re introduced to in SJM’s bibliography is actually Aedion from Throne of Glass, and the only reason I’m starting off with him is because I’m really mad that he was our first prominent bisexual character in the books and there was 0 mention of his relationships with other men; it was a throwaway line before his romance with Lysandra (in which SJM butchered his character in the last book. Not to say that bi men can’t date women! I liked their ship but I was mad at how it was treated as tokenism).

Within ACOTAR, we’re first greeted with Helion, and the issue with his writing is… pretty glaring, I think. The promiscuous bisexual is a harmful trope that’s been toted around for a while; “oh, you’re bi? you must be down for sex all the time with whoever you want” which… ignores the fact that sexuality can be a spectrum and does assign bisexuality a sort of sexual morality that people have used to condemn us for a long time. Not to say that Helion can’t be promiscuous, but there is a focus on it as a huge aspect of his character when there are other ways to do it.

I feel like Morrigan is a little self-explanatory. It’s… not great, imo, that SJM isn’t being a little more clear about her (if she prefers sexual relationships with men but intimate romantic relationships with women, great! But please SAY THAT). The way she strings Azriel along is cruel and unnecessary—she shouldn’t need to feel afraid to come out to people who are supposedly “her best friends” or “are like brothers to her”. Hell, she felt safer coming out to Feyre, who’s she’s known for considerably less time! I’ll also touch briefly on the whole situation with Eris… insofar as to say that I think SJM writing it out with such violence was unnecessary and the optics of “I prefer women because men harmed me” that, while may not be necessarily true, the appearance of it being true reads really poorly because it’s what conservatives and conversion camps like to tout about lgbtq+ people (“you’re only like that bc someone hurt you”).

Thesan is another one, but SJM left his lover unnamed. C’mon. There’s barely any named NPCs in this series as it is, it wouldn’t have killed her to slap a name on his husband/mate.

Speaking of mates, I need to gripe about the mating bond too—in ACOMAF, I believe it is, but just in general, the bond is used to indicate NOT who would be happiest in love, but it is based on which pairing would “make the strongest offspring”. So, if we walk away from the heteronormativity of that explanation, how the HELL do you get gay mates? And if you’re gay, what happens if your “mate” is someone you’re not romantically or even sexually attracted to? Do you just have to deal with this uncomfortable and predestined tension and expectations to suck it up and make babies, anyway? And why should it be based on children and the ideal nuclear family? (We know why. But from a meta perspective, why?)

And as a brief aside, I still haven’t seen a trans character. Not that I’d want to. I think I would end up being terribly offended if she tried to do so. Sorry this ended up being so long! Maybe I should’ve devoted it to my own post 😔

No, you're fine! I'd had my own thoughts about some of these but I'd never considered the full extent of how abysmal her representation truly was. Tysm for this!