#rip shield 💔

[ahalliance]

possibly no stream tonight, but you never know with this guy

[jils-things]

you know you're at a point of not feeling so iffy with your fave if you're unfazed looking at canonxcanon or other selfships with said character

[k0yaz]

hollow.

Pairings: furina x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, vampire au, girls kissing oh no, crackfic(?), wlw, graphic mentions of violence, beginning is very up to interpretation, blood, furina being so adorable im gonna cry, macaroni :3, I made it super short bc I lost motivation since its past the deadline 💔, kinda a plot twist at the end, not proofread.

A/N: FURINAAAAAA AWAWAAAWAWA oh yeah uhm sorry about this being late but part of @edgeray ‘s Halloween event! 🕯️

All surrounding you was nothing but an endless void caging in around you, enveloping your mind as you found yourself stumbling backward. Eyes heavy, your pupils rolled back upon feeling the thick showers of rain trickle down your freezing skin, floods of endless water streams washing over the vicinity in endless pattering. It was quite evident that this time of day, especially in such blinding conditions was unsafe for many. Especially humans such as yourself who wandered mindlessly in the wild, carelessly allowing the scent of your blood to waver wherever you traveled.

The last sight that caught your eye as you stumbled back was a quick glimpse of the blackened sky adorned with dark tufts of clouds, flashes of lightning ripping through the air in sudden bursts while you squinted your eyes at the sudden shred of light flooding your sight in the blinding darkness. Your soaked clothing stuck to your skin, sending shivers through your body as the cold cloth adhered against your exposed self. Each shower of rain descending down as the gray clouds parted only seemed like a warning sign from the gods themselves, casting down an inescapable storm that would leave you vulnerable for the inhuman nightmares roaming the area to tear to shreds.

You honestly didn’t even know why you were out. The shivers racking your body paired with the purple-ish tint faintly dusted along your skin from the stinging freeze was enough to encourage you to head home. Yet, something within you screamed at every fiber in your body. Every inch of you continued to trudge forward against the force of the winds pushing against you, knowing you can’t head back home. You couldn’t head back, or you would be dead. Not even given the courtesy of being buried or having your body kept intact. Rather, you’d be reduced to an unrecognizable pulp, beaten down ruthlessly until blood painted the ground you lay on.

The mere thought of your body not being able to rest after death—possibly worse—only made you hunch inward at the disgusting fate, face dropping in pure terror. Howls of wind continued to rustle against your ears repeatedly as you bit down on your bottom lip in a pathetic attempt to try and warm up the blue tinged flesh dragged between your teeth. You hissed in a sharp breath of pain as the see though nature of your clean white shirt only exposed the splatter of blood soaking through the white cloth of your shoulder and trickling down your arm. How much longer could you handle? How much longer could you endure the bites of cold air poisoning you from the inside out as you only grew more and more exhausted from the sting.

The answer was not long. A sudden gasp escaped your lips as your knees buckled inward, causing you to release your lower lip from your teeth as a shock response to the numbness seeping through your body slowly. You sucked in a breath as you knelt down, brows knitting together in pain as your free hand served to shield the damp blood seeping through the deep wound in your shoulder. Heavy breathing rang in your ears, albeit quite loudly considering it was your own breathing emanating from your hoarse throat as your surroundings grew blurry—the stench of your fresh blood which was evidently piling up in the clearing as it stung your sensitive nostrils only serving to make you more lightheaded.

Quick rushes of a shadowy figure filled the frame of your vision, its movements being quiet and discreet as the rushes of rain only served to cloak any possible sound it could potentially produce. Its dashes back and forth only displayed in afterimages for under a millisecond as its speed only served to blind you further, making you question your sanity and whether you were hallucinating this figure. You couldn’t think long, your eyelids began to droop as you grew light from the cold engulfing you, along with the loss of blood growing exponentially and spinning your surroundings like a globe.

Thud.

Of course. It wasn’t long before your body rocked forward, slamming against the ground as blood pooled below you and patched the once spotless cloth of your shirt stuck to your skin a deep crimson. The grass below you steeled red as the tip of each green blade had a thick red gradient brushed along it. You guess that this was perhaps the end of your story. Succumbing to the cold and your wounds was the fate life had in store for you. And just like that—you relaxed yourself against the grass, rainwater thudding against the back of your limp frame sprawled out against the ground.

…

That was until your eyes shot open.

Blinking open your eyes, you found yourself weighed down by a thick blanket spread out over you, sinking you down into the mattress until your chest. The dim, golden light briefly provided a faint light to the vicinity you had awoken in, your bleary vision beginning to focus little by little as you scanned the room. A sudden surge of pain shot through your shoulder as you finally regained most of your consciousness, stinging further at sunken wound gashed onto your arm. Eyes wide, you ripped off the blanket cloaking your arm, your expression growing perplexed at the sight of your burning shoulder carefully wrapped in slightly crumpled bandages.

You breathed out a huff upon feeling a strange itch located above your collarbone, being unable to recall whether you had an injury there or not while you were in the rain. Gentle flickers of warm air rejuvenated your freezing muscles, easing the tension piled up within you. The candle flickering beside you somehow provided a flaring amount of heat for you to be able to move around normally without the hypothermic chill dragging down your body.

Two small indents were imprinted onto your throat, harboring that same itch which was bothering you from the moment you woke up. You swore those deep, tiny holes weren’t there before, raising your suspicion—and distress to a higher degree. You couldn’t help but also wonder the source of the marks on your neck, with the deep nature, along with the way both holes were a convenient distance from each other…it unmistakably resembled a bite. A bite resulting from a pair of fangs maliciously sunken into flesh, desperate for a taste.

Yet despite your conclusion, you couldn’t seem to pinpoint the creature that could’ve attacked you before you were nursed back to health in wherever the hell you were now. Scanning the room, you swallowed back your uncertainty, carefully peeling off the blankets draped over you before hovering your feet over the creaky wooden floors. You set one foot down very slowly, flinching a bit upon hearing the hollow creak of the floorboards ring throughout the vicinity.

Each ghastly ring of the floorboards pressured under your heels with every subsequent step against the floor shrouded your thoughts in a lake of uncertainty, the current sensation of utter trepidation clouding your mind as you wandered aimlessly through the perplexing twists of the hallway. Drops of wax pooled beneath the abundant candles in a small heap, dribbling down the edges they resided upon occasionally along the deep stone of the walls.

Swift afterimages of a cloaked figure mysteriously flicked back and forth in the field of your periphery, your hand instantly darting up to shield your palm along your exposed 'wound.' Swallowing back a heavy lump sunken in your throat, paranoia flooded your senses at the sight of the dark figure which had just swiftly vanished, your gaze flickering to every spotting and corner of the peculiar residence.

"Ah..you're out of bed? I thought your injuries were too awful to even move. Sorry about that, ma’am.”

The sudden feminine voice alerted you in mere moments, heart nearly jumping out of your chest from the wave of shock that overtook every fiber of your body in that instant. You spun around, being met with the perplexed expression of an alluring woman stood before you. Fluffed white hair brushed with blue streaks striped along her hair, complimenting her mismatched azure eyes. Her arms remained folded over her chest firmly as her gaze roamed over you from head to toe, lips pursed together upon it being unclear of whether you were truly well or not. The woman parted her lips to speak, before immediately curling her lip between her teeth to bite back her voice.

Drips of stray water leaked from the crevices of the ceiling, lining along the cobwebs as they dribbled down onto the floor to briefly remedy the silence. The dampening atmosphere surrounding you and the exotic being stood before you tensed your muscles, a smoke of uncertainty circling the two of you as a sort of supernatural force seemed to radiate around her, uneasiness wavering within you in the deafening silence.

“This..is awkward? Where’s the ‘thank you for saving my life?’ I just stopped you from dying and getting potentially mauled out there!” She exclaimed as a breaker, your head shooting up and growing alert to the conversation she had attempted to initiate. “Ah…right. Thank you.” You murmured awkwardly, palm still cupped over the marks slit into your throat. She delivered an over dramatic bow in return, a smug expression scribbled onto her face as she bared her fangs in a grin.

Wait…fangs?

Pausing briefly, you hovered a finger upward, slowly pointing toward her teeth. Indicating the curved ridges protruding from the corners of her teeth, you slithered your tongue to the roof of your mouth cautiously, slowly lowering your hand shielding the bite mark to observe your neck.

It almost identically mirrored the sharpened ends of her fangs.

You drew in a breath, attempting to keep your quivering voice steady as you firmly articulated your concerns before her. “Were you the one who did this..?” You inquired carefully, exposing your neck and allowing the faint lighting to add a reflective luminance against the dried out hollow wounds. She paused, grin immediately shifting to a rather hushed expression as her breath caught in her throat upon the revelation of her feeding on you. Almost in an instant, she defensively snapped back in an argumentative manner.

“Hey! Be glad it wasn’t that it wasn’t some other vampire that found you all sprawled out! I was just thirsty but I treated it after! Anyone else would’ve put you in a stove by now!”

“I’m not upset, calm down…I just wanted to know.” You responded, slightly being put at ease by her anecdote of nursing you back to health in critical condition. It was understandable as to why she’d feed on you, as you had noted behaviors of vampires from what others had told you. Typically, they’re unable to resist the minute they see even a hint of scarlet running along a human’s skin, the most frequent outcome being someone’s mangled body being discovered eventually.

However, this particular vampire didn’t seem to show any of the insatiable hunger emitted off others, and not too interested in hogging all of your blood to herself, merely a sip to quench her thirst. You stood upright and gently grazed your finger along her knuckles, freehand cupped below her wrist to gently push it up.

“You’re being genuine in the fact that you saved me?” You questioned, eyes fixated on her teardrop shaped pupils for any trace of deception. Yet they harbored none. She nodded bashfully, a faint pout contorting her features as well.

“Why would I even go as far as making macaroni for you if I didn’t..?”

“You made macaroni for me?”

“…it was literally on your bedside table are you BLIND?”

Her outburst caught you off guard, yet you couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you upon seeing her swiftly whip her gaze away in a faux frustrated fashion. You smiled, taking her hand in yours and causing her to part her lips in surprise.

“Fine..just, come up with me, okay?”

She nodded hesitantly at first, but began to trail directly behind you as you renavigated your path to the room you were in. Raising your eyebrows as you turned around to face her, your hand rested on the doorknob, refraining from clicking open the door in that moment as you spoke up.

“Thank you for saving me, Furina.”

A ghastly quietness buzzed around the two of you, stunning ‘Furina’ into shock, eyes wide as her gaze remained locked onto you. She paused, confusion currently occupying her mind as it made her head fuzzy from the thickness of perplexion overtaking her. Swallowing nervously, she sharpened her tone towards you, eyelids lowering cautiously.

“How do you know my name..? I’ve never told you.”

A/N: im very sorry that I’ve been ending fics on cliffhangers/lazy writing like this bc I really need to focus on school and I’m trying to get these done in a time crunch along with the assignments in the window of time that I actually have to work on them so I’m sorry but I promise when I have free time I will definitely not slack on my fics like I did this one cause I just threw in a shock factor plot twist ending 💔

anyway did u know that I name all fics in my drafts something very interesting before actually coming up with a title just like sprites in game files so this one was named ‘I’m gonna cover myself in garlic everywhere except my kitty’ and holy shit why did I name it that.

[fatum679]

2x08 H+A

The first scene between Aemond and Helaena 💔

I should say right away that I condemn what Aemond did and do not justify it. I will analyze his actions and reactions. The truth is, I would never dream of him hurting his sister. But I tried to analyze all this without blaming the writers, although we all know how mediocre they are.

Helaena is glad to see Aemond, but he came to her and speaks to her not as a sister, but as if she were a soldier, which makes her look at him in confusion. Helaena refuses to participate in the war, Aemond has a fit of anger.

Aemond is desperate because he knows he can't win this war against other adult dragons. Sunfyre and Tessarion are useless against adult dragons, even if Aemond hadn't hit Sunfyre he already had his wing crushed and his belly ripped open by Meleys, even if Sunfyre was healthy he still can't handle adult dragons. TG is initially at a disadvantage. Aemond understands all this and he only has Dreamfyre left because she is older than Vermithor and Silverwing, and Helain. He did not ask her to fight until he knew he could handle it himself, but now he can't do without her.

Aemond really cares about his family (except Aegon), he understands that they will all die if they lose. ! I do not condone Aemond's actions towards Helaena ! But we see that his whole family does not take the war seriously (Alicent and Aegon).

Alicent put Aegon on the throne, created a whole party, raised children with the thought that they would be killed (it's true) now she does not want to take responsibility for the situation created, she tells her party's plans and lets the enemy go. (If she wanted to see Rhaenyra as queen, then what were all the scenes in episodes 5, 6, 7 for?) Aegon, who accepted the crown, but spent time with his drinking buddies, was incompetent and decided to get drunk and attack Meleys.

I have no questions for Helaena, she does not want to participate in the war, it is her choice, she has the right to it. Aemond does not understand this decision and does not accept it. He expected that she would be happy to avenge her son, but Helaena is not like other Targaryens and no matter how much I want to see a piece of the conqueror in her, she will never be like Visenya and Rhaenys. She truly values ​​every life, so she takes care of the bugs and does not accept violence. I respect and admire Helaena.

In this scene, Aemond is angry not because he is losing power, as the antis believe, but because his family is about to die and he feels alone because no one takes it seriously. Aemond is truly a man of chaos and destruction, while Helaena is creation and order.

The second scene between Helaena and Aemond 💔

Aemond comes to their secret place for private meetings, he is desperate, his voice is shaking, there are tears in his eyes and he feels a strong sense of guilt because he hurt Helaena, he begs her for help, to be with him, but Helaena refuses. And this scene is beautiful, because Helaena is beautiful. She is truly sinless, she is not angry at Aemond for his cruelty, she looks at him without judgment. She wants him to admit his evil. She does not hate him, there is no hate in her. She wants Aemond to see himself, to see what he has become. We see how Aemond's heart breaks when Helaena asks him if he would do the same to her as he did to Aegon. Aemond ready to shield her with his body from the dragon's flame. Now Aemond answered Aegon's evil with his own evil.

Helaena does not want war and revenge, because she already knows what awaits them all and has accepted it. Helaena understands that they are all just grains of sand in the galaxy and the world will not stop if their lives are extinguished. Therefore, she resigned herself and accepted the death.

Helaena speaks of the future, her voice quieter and tears in her eyes, before she speaks of Aemond's death she pauses, her throat shaking with a spasm, but she delivers the sentence. Aemond thinks she is lying and threatening her like a small, frightened child. What it is like to realize that nothing made sense and life had no meaning because they were doomed. Helaena has lived her whole life knowing all this and now Aemond know.

We expected a kissing scene between Aemond and Healena, but we got a scene where they are both dressed, but completely naked to the bone. Aemond, who wanted to hug her, and cries in despair, like a 10-year-old child. Healena, as in her childhood, tells him about the inevitable, about his fate. She looks into his eyes, and it is really hard for her to talk about his death.

Wie gerne würden wir unser Schicksal kennen... wohin es uns führt. Doch die Wahrheit ist: Es gibt nur einen Weg durch alle Zeiten. Vorherbestimmt durch den Anfang und das Ende, was zugleich der Anfang ist.

There's a lot of pain and longing in this scene. The way Aemond instinctively reaches out to Helaena, as if they'd held hands all the time, like in Episode 9, but now he stops, afraid to touch her because he feels guilty. The way Aemond talks about their blood, like he used to talk about preserving dragon blood as a child. He came to their secret place. He came knowing Helaena would be there. And Helaena knew Aemond would come.

We didn't have a kissing scene or a passionate embrace, but we did have a scene where they both showed their bones. It was the most emotional and heartbreaking scene in two seasons.

[seelestia]

YOU HAVE A GUARANTEED FROM CLARA BECAUSE CLARA'S VA IS PRESIDENT AVENTURINE SIMP WHICH MEANS YOU WILL GET DOUBLE EARLY FIVE STARS TRUST ME BRO IM FROM THE FUTURE !!!

THANK U, MIREI / USER MILK-VIOLET / TIME TRAVELLER FROM THE FUTURE !!! i am here to dedicate the most monumental wins in my life to you & emily (the avenation's president) o7

so pls allow me to ramble a bit abt how my pulls went:

he came home EARLY !!!! 31 pity counts as pretty early to me like i genuinely did not believe my eyes at first. but who am i to complain 🫣🫣 i also got his LC!!! not as early since it came at 69 pity - but still the first 5* LC that i've ever pulled for willingly LMAO so it's still a win in my book! congrats to this silly guy for breaking my no-warping-for-LC's streak ig 💔

by the time i got aventurine & his LC, i have 55 warps left + 12 more from the starlight exchange for jingliu.... but she did not come home and e2 bronya did instead. this woman is stubborn 😔 so now it's either i continue grinding jades for her or i save 'em all for sunday (delulu) !!!!

MOVING ON - i spent the whole day maxing his traces, so i wanted to show his build aka my blood, sweat and tears. HERE COMES THE BOY !!!! his crit ratio is 30/184 with just the relics - but thanks to his traces & LC (that provide a crit rate boost based on def & a crit dmg boost respectively), this man's stats in combat went 🆙🆙. here's a comparison for my aven's crit ratio out of battle vs in battle!

(ignore the team setup on the right: that's my default farming team with a free slot for support charas that i borrow from friends 🏃 i run him w/ ruan mei, silver wolf and dr. ratio! rip luocha ur services will be missed)

from what i observe, he does a consistent 50~60k with his ult and an average 25~35k with his FUA. i'd say that's good !!! his shield in itself is already op. regrettably, i wished he could have more SPD, but i'll take what i can get! all that matters is that he's here safe and sound <3

[justrainandcoffee]

I did this with us plus our ocs and some characters.

@peakyswritings @emotionalcadaver @evita-shelby @moral-terpitude @call-sign-shark

As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.

Reb gathers as much food as she can.

Alfie breaks John's nose for a basket of bread (🤭😂)

Rose runs away with a lighter and some rope.

Eva and Linda work together to drown July .

Arthur finds a backpack full of camping equipment.

Esme and Lucy fight for a bag. Esme gives up and retreats.

→ Eva wtf!!!! Omg!! I'm so sorry, July!! Probably that's her revenge for the horrors 😂😂.

→ All the others just escaped from the cornucopia.

.

Day 1

Quinn and Uncle Charlie hunt for other tributes.

Alfie searches for firewood.

Reb diverts Michael's attention and runs away.

Shark questions her sanity. (Good for you, Shark! 🤭)

Jessie Eden sets an explosive off, killing John.

Linda overpowers Arthur, killing him (her abuser, so...)

Nina goes hunting.

Lucy, Tommy, Eva, Rose , and Heaven hunt for other tributes.

Ava forces Aberama to kill Flor or Lauren . He refuses to kill, so Ava kills him instead.

→ Ava, wtf!! We're friends 🤧🤧😭😭.

.

Night 1

Ava looks at the night sky.

Eva lets Rose into her shelter.

Reb sets up camp for the night.

Lauren and Quinn talk about the tributes still alive.

Heaven, Lucy, Shark, and Alfie sleep in shifts.

Flor pushes Linda off a cliff during a knife fight. 💁‍♀️

Tommy sets an explosive off, killing Michael (yessss)

Nina passes out from exhaustion.

.

Day 2

Lucy receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Ava searches for a water source.

Lauren makes a slingshot.

Alfie sprains his ankle while running away from Nina.

Heaven is pricked by thorns while picking berries.

Reb goes hunting.

Shark, Flor , Quinn, and Polly form a suicide pact, killing themselves.

Eva receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Rose discovers a river.

→ omg!! Rip Shark and me 😔. Hope you miss us.

Night 2

Eva looks at the night sky.

Jessie Eden stays awake all night.

Uncle Charlie ambushes Rose and kills her (why!!!)

Lucy stays awake all night.

Alfie unknowingly eats toxic berries.

Reb goes to sleep.

Heaven, Lauren , Ava, Tommy, and Nina sleep in shifts.

→ not for the first time Alfie and Rose die the same day or night 😭💔.

Day 3

Jessie Eden overhears Lauren and Uncle Charlie talking in the distance.

Reb runs away from Esme.

Heaven, Sabini, Eva, Tommy, and Nina hunt for other tributes.

Ava receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.

Lucy thinks about home.

Night 3

Reb destroys Nina's supplies while she is asleep.

Uncle Charlie and Lauren run into each other and decide to truce for the night.

Esme strangles Tommy with a rope. (Holy shit!!)

Lucy receives fresh food from an unknown sponsor.

Heaven and Ava tell stories about themselves to each other.

Eva starts a fire.

→ Reb, please!! Poor Nina!! She's your girl!!

Night 5

Nina and Lauren talk about the tributes still alive.

Eva and Reb hold hands.

Ava, Uncle Charlie, and Lucy discuss the games and what might happen in the morning.

Jessie Eden shoots a poisonous blow dart into Heaven's neck, slowly killing her. (The fuck, Jessie 👀!!)

Sabini receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Esme cannot handle the circumstances and commits suicide. (Poor Esme)

The feast

The cornucopia is replenished with food, supplies, weapons, and memoirs from the tributes' families.

Lucy decides not to go to The Feast.

Uncle Charlie decides not to go to The Feast.

Reb, Sabini, Ava, Eva, and Nina track down and kill Lauren .

→ idk, but Ava was after Laur from the first moment 🙃.

Day 6

Eva bleeds out due to untreated injuries.

Uncle Charlie sets Nina on fire with a molotov.

Ava chases Sabini.

Reb travels to higher ground.

Lucy accidently detonates a land mine while trying to arm it.

Arena Event

Monkey mutts fill the arena.

Sabini survives.

Reb survives.

Uncle Charlie uses Ava as a shield from the monkey mutts.

Night 6

Uncle Charlie lets Reb into his shelter. (Please 😂😂)

Sabini falls into a frozen lake and drowns.

Day 7

Reb spears Uncle Charlie in the abdomen. 👀👀

The winner is Reb from District 3!

Good for you @peakyswritings !!! To be honest, uncle Charlie deserved it!! He was out of control!!

[adenei]

Exile

We're back for Era 5 of @cruelsummer-ficfest!

Song: Exile (Folklore)

Ship: Romione

Read on Ao3

His hand tightens around the bottle of Butterbeer he’s suddenly lost the taste for. He knew she’d be here; why wouldn’t she? But he still hoped she wouldn’t show. 

To make matters worse, she walks in with another man. And not just any man, but the one she knows will cut him the deepest: Viktor Krum. The Quidditch star’s hand is splayed across the small of her back and her eyes shine as she glances up at him, laughing at a joke that Ron is sure isn’t funny at all. 

It’s sick and twisted irony at its finest. Two years ago, they were here in this same spot for the same occasion, only now there is no unknown looming in the midst of a full-fledged war. Now, there is no Hermione in his life either. She’d made certain of that.

It didn’t take her long to pack her things and leave for Australia shortly after the war ended. She’d given no explanation, no goodbye. She took everything he thought they’d fought for and left him alone to pick up the pieces.

Maybe it wasn’t love after all.

Memories of Bill and Fleur’s wedding flit through his mind as he watches Vicky lead Hermione to an empty table. His heart aches as he remembers dancing with her; how just for a moment, things felt normal. Just for a moment, he was a teenage boy, drumming up the courage to seek something more with the girl who meant everything to him. Only for it all to be ripped away in the blink of an eye. 

Now, two years later, everyone who survived the war is gathered again for Bill and Fleur’s vow renewal, where there are no threats of danger looming on the horizon. Only the promise of a well-deserved party. 

But try as he might, Ron cannot find it within himself to be happy. She should be here with him. It should be his hand on the small of her back, whispering a joke about how Percy’s too serious or Mum trying—and failing—to cut Bill’s hair again. And her laugh would be real because he knows what she finds funny.

Instead, he stands on the sidelines, shielded by the circle of his brothers and Harry, who are engaged in some other conversation. His eyes never leave her, though she doesn’t notice him at all. 

Maybe, if things were different, he could ask what went wrong. Where the fine line they always walked between friendship and something more snapped. Why she never gave him a chance. Would it have been so hard to hear him out? To give a warning sign that she was leaving?

Though he’s learned to read her well over the years, he never could read her mind. And he couldn’t turn things around. If she’d just given him a warning, he could have fixed things. He could have followed her. 

But war doesn’t care who it fucks up along the way, and Ron and Hermione are perfect examples of that. A lost love that never stood a chance. 

Sometimes, Ron wishes it was him and not Fred. Even death would be better than the life of exile he leads as he sees her now.

💔

From the moment she arrives, she can feel his eyes on her, burning into her skin like Fiendfyre. It’d been a coincidence, arriving seconds before Viktor. But she appreciated his warm smile and kind gestures once he realized she was attending alone. It was the support she needed to get her through those first awkward moments.

Hermione laughs. Not at the lighthearted joke Viktor makes, but at the reaction she elicits from him. Like he’s ready to get his knuckles bloody and stake his claim. Her heart flutters as she sees a glimpse of the Ron she once knew. The Ron she fell in love with before the war sucked the life out of him.

She tried to wait for him. Gave him so many chances to come to her, to open up, to talk. Even to simply cry as she held him and told him it would be okay. Any of that would have been better than the vacant stares she received instead. The shell of a man who’d had so much personality; all washed away from the locket, seeing her tortured, and witnessing death.

The decision to leave him behind had been the hardest yet, even harder than sending her parents away. Deep down, she knew he couldn’t come with her. She’d lost track of how many tears she cried—and still does. One year gone, and she still misses him more than anything. Still yearns for a chance to be something more. He was her crown; she’s empty without him.

💔

Ron and Hermione spend the better part of the evening avoiding each other. No one urges them to seek the other out. Everyone is careful not to speak the other’s name in their presence. It’s only when Ron finds the atmosphere of the tent too suffocating that he steps out into the grounds of the Burrow for a break, and Hermione follows.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to Vicky?” he says once he settles by the old oak tree near the pond.

She draws a sharp breath in, not realizing he could sense her presence this whole time. “No. It was nice to catch up with him, but he’s not the reason I came tonight.”

“I would hope not.” Hollow laughter catches in Ron’s throat. “Considering this is a celebration for Bill and Fleur.”

“I didn’t come for them either.”

Ron turns and peers at her in the moonlight reflecting off the water. “Then why are you here?”

“For you,” she says simply. 

The words take Ron aback, and his forehead creases as he watches her closely. 

“Why?” he dares. “You left. Why would you come back?”

She steels herself with a deep breath. “I never left for good. And I never wanted to leave you. But you were—I didn’t know how to help you anymore, Ron. You were broken and everything I tried wasn’t helping. I needed to find my parents. I couldn’t delay my search any longer. And I thought maybe some space might help.”

“Then why didn’t you say any of that?” he snaps.

“I tried! I’d ask you to take a walk with me, joined you in your room after dinner. Every time I tried to bring it up you’d say you were tired or excuse yourself or do something else to avoid any hint of emotion that didn’t wrap you in grief!”

He opens his mouth, then closes it. No words come out as he stares in utter disbelief.

“I never intended to be away for over a year, but the search took longer than I thought it would. I barely found them before I had to return for Hogwarts. Maybe I should have been clearer, but I thought you knew. I wasn’t giving up on us, I swear.” Tears fill her eyes. 

His demeanor softens as he pushes himself off of the tree and takes a step toward her. “You tried to tell me?”

She nods. “I gave so many signs.”

“I never saw them.”

They both remain quiet for a while, neither knowing what to say. After a while, Hermione finally dares to speak again. “You seem like you’re doing better.”

“I guess.” Ron shrugs and kicks his toe into the ground. “There’s still something missing, though.”

Hermione reaches out to touch his arm. It’s a risky move, but she does it anyway. “I’m sure there always will be,” she whispers. “You’re missing a brother.”

“What?” Ron looks up. “No, not Fred. I’ve learned to work through that.”

“Lavender, then?”

“No.”

“Then—”

Ron steps forward, cutting her off. “You, Hermione. You’re missing.” His hands find the sides of her face, cupping her tenderly as he guides her gaze to him.

Tears well in her eyes and a few spill down her cheeks from the overflow. “I missed you. I was so worried we wouldn’t be able to move past this.”

“I know. I’m sorry I fucked up.”

“You didn’t. You were hurting. You lost so much.”

They’re so close their foreheads touch. She can feel his hot breath on her skin as her arms wrap around his torso, willing him to close the distance. And he does, but not until he responds first.

“Yeah, but I didn’t lose my ‘everything.’” 

Their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and full of emotion, but there is no urgency to it. Not like there was during the battle. This kiss is a reconciliation, a step out of exile and into each other’s arms, where they’ve always meant to be.

When they break apart, Ron makes a promise. “I know I couldn’t change things around back then, but I’ll be better now. For us. I can’t lose you too, Hermione.”

“You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

I think I’ve seen this film before

And I didn’t like the ending

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

[freakenomenon]

Preface I do not know much about Manya I AM SORRY CHAT IM BEST FAMILIAR WITH THE NOVELLA FIRST THEN GAME 💔

BUT if Manya was a survivor along with Ellen I imagine their sense of love is very quiet. It is not the random bursts of passion Ellen receives by the men for giving them favors, but silent assurances. The small squeeze of a hand before they’re separated by AM, holding another close to shield them from the sudden, blistering cold. Small banter about how out of date their clothes must be, the irony of traveling in heels! Carefully braiding or styling the others hair as though it’s so fragile AM will break it any moment. The gentle cusp on the cheek to ground the other.

Also I am so sorry for the sudden ask the idea came upon me and it must be shared

ONE. don't worry we don't either she is literally a HOLOGRAM in the game but ogugh it burns it burns it burns RIPS OFF MY FACE

it hurts because their affection has MEANING. something that had become something much more negative than positive within the gut of the machine. even if subtle , sporadic or desperate. even FUTILE attempts at what's left of the concept of love, it means something. it has value. all the "services" and cycles of what i can only describe as unintentional self harm.

to have something like that grow within an environment like this is. GHHHHGGGG disassociate into the void thinking about them.

also last thign i remember manya was the daughter of a militant and moved on to MARRY a militant ( ... in the game ) which could be something interesting if you squint idk

[obwjam]

Ok ok- hear me out, ghostbusters g/t.

Now I’m talking og 1980s, none of the remake bs. (afterlife wasn’t terrible)

Ray Stanz - Ray is the heart of the Ghostbusters team and has a genuine love for the supernatural and unexplained. When he saw the tiny person in danger, he would immediately go into protector mode. Ray would be empathetic and comforting, doing everything in his power to rescue and ensure the well-being of the tiny person. He’d definitely be the one to eagerly try to shield them in his palms against his chest.

Egon Spengler - Egon is the brains of the group, and his analytical mind would kick into high gear. He'd carefully assess the situation, looking for the most efficient and logical way to rescue the tiny person. His calm and calculated demeanor would be reassuring to both the tiny person and the rest of the team. The tiny would later become his little lab assistant.

Winston Zeddemore - Winston, the grounded and practical member of the team, would focus on the immediate needs of the tiny person. He would provide physical assistance and ensure the tiny person's safety, whether that meant battling a ghostly threat or finding a way to transport them to safety. Winston's strong sense of duty and compassion would shine through.

Peter Venkman - Peter, known for his sarcasm and quick wit, might make a humorous comment or two upon first seeing the tiny person. A short joke here and there, However, underneath his wisecracking exterior, he cares deeply for people in distress. He would take charge of the situation, ensuring the tiny person's safety while using his charm and charisma to keep everyone calm including comforting the tiny.

BONUS

Louis Tulley - Louis is known for his quirky and often anxious personality. If he stumbled upon a tiny person in distress, he might initially react with a mix of surprise and nervousness. However, deep down, he has a good heart and would want to help. Louis might attempt to shield the tiny person from harm, frantically looking for a way to protect them or enlist the aid of the Ghostbusters. His comedic reactions could provide some moments of levity amidst the tension.

Janine Melnitz - Janine is the Ghostbusters' efficient and no-nonsense secretary. She's used to dealing with the paranormal but not necessarily with tiny people. Her initial reaction might be one of curiosity and concern. She would swiftly take charge of the situation, calling the Ghostbusters into action and coordinating their efforts. Janine's practical and organized nature would ensure that the tiny person receives prompt assistance.

Dana Barrett - Dana has had her fair share of supernatural encounters, especially with the demon Zuul. If she found a tiny person in danger, she would likely remain calm and composed, drawing from her experiences. Dana would immediately work to shield the tiny person from any potential threats and provide reassurance. Her resourcefulness and determination would come into play as she collaborates with the Ghostbusters to ensure the tiny person's safety.

!!!!!! OMG OMG OMG THANK YOU FOR THIS i love ghostbusters so much LOL i had like a mini personal fandom revival when afterlife came out and the g/t thoughts were thunk. omg. i’m a slut for nerdy characters with round glasses so egon was always my BOY (rip harold 💔) he would be so sweet with a tiny. after overcoming his fascination of a borrower and skepticism of tiny people being just as smart, he would be so delighted to have them around to help and to infodump to them to teach them everything he knows ❤️ and their sassy side comes out when they hang out with peter UGH they would all be so soft

[primordialchoice]

💔 talk about crowley B)

Brewing

"Many eons ago, I thought I'd understood what love was all about. It was simple and straightforward in the subtlest way. It didn't sweep me off my feet like most romance novels have portrayed love to do because my fall was steady and gentle. It was like sand pouring through an hourglass, each minute and hour and day I spent with him fascinated me! If I was with him, then it didn't matter that I was out in the barren desert outside of the garden because he felt like Eden to me.

"When he left, I felt my lungs and heart get ripped out of my body. I was so stunned that I had begun to tremble! I felt... cold. So cold in fact that it didn't matter that it had been a warm summer night on Earth because I was freezing from the inside out.

"Have you ever felt such an acute ache in your chest when you think about someone? The type that makes you clutch your chest and twists your face in pain because the sudden pressure pinches your heart mercilessly...?

"I used to feel that a lot before I'd seen him in Golgota. I felt numb for the majority of the centuries that came after... now I'm just angry.

"It's unfair to leave me with so much ache and without even a single HINT of goodbye from his side prior to his departure! He seemed quite happy with me! Proud too! I was stepping up to be his equal; I worked SO HARD to be worthy of him and not just live my life as a vulnerable body he would constantly need to shield. Do you know what he said on the night he left? That he would be with me forever. Psh-hah! Oddly enough, he had delivered! I just didn't think I'd be forever RESENTING him for the confusion and betrayal he's put me through!"

If only she knew the truth.

[yummylavender-soap]

fic recs 💘✨

a little (massive) masterlist for me to keep track of the fics I love, and will always come back to for a re-read + TBR list at the bottom + multichapter & WiPs 🫧

~ if your work is tagged and you want it removed, please let me know! 🌶️ smut 🧸fluff ❤️‍🩹hurt/comfort 💔angst 🖤dark

Bucky Barnes

untitled one shot - @http-shield 🌶️ "Bucky's first time in around 100 years" you ain't my boyfriend and I ain't your girlfriend series - @witchywithwhiskey 🌶️🖤 15.8K [inc] "you're in a toxic situationship with bucky barnes, who's more possessive than he has any right to be."

My Own Soul's Warning series - @aquaticmercy 💔🧸 [inc] "You, an immortal being, falls in love with the very mortal Bucky Barnes. You would do anything for him, even if it meant you had to strike a deal with Death herself."

Mafia!Bucky Barnes

Mafia!Bucky masterlist - @angrythingstarlight 🌶️🧸 main masterlist

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Steve Rogers

What a World - @onsunnyside 🌶️ "S.H.I.E.L.D. had a lot of secrets, you just never expected one of them to be an actual person—a blue-eyed giant, wild manbeast at that."

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Eddie Munson

This Summer Is The Apocalypse series - @rebelfell 🌶️💔 24.7K "A series of stream of consciousness type blurbs about a summer romance that was never meant to happen, and yet it did."

She's The Devil in Disguise - @letterstotheflre 🌶️ "tonight was supposed to be the night you finally fed, only somehow eddie munson manages to satiate your appetite without losing his life." jennifer's body au

Just a Taste - @chelseeebe 🌶️ If You're Gunna Hit Me (Baby, Hit Me Where It Hurts) - @edens-pen 🌶️🧸 7K "everything happens at once: eddie tells you he’s gonna be dealing to chrissy cunningham and you’re perfectly fine with it. then your old best friend comes to town, and eddie’s perfectly fine with it. nobody’s jealous and everyone’s okay." On The Outside series - @lesservillain 🌶️🧸💔 [inc] "When your 7th grade class is selected to participate in a prison pen pal program, you're unexpectedly thrust into the mix when the number of inmates is more than students in your class. After a bit of persuading, you take on a pen pal yourself. Little did you know that accepting that offer would change your life...for the better."

untitled one shot - @wroteclassicaly 🌶️🍋 untitled one shot - @mypoisonedvine 🌶️🍋 untitled one shot - @etherealxwitch 🌶️💦

untitled one shot - @billys-bitchh-deactivated202309 🌶️💦 untitled one shot - @eddiemunchem-deactivated2024111 🌶️📹

Mafia!Eddie Munson

Mafia!Eddie series - @oneforthemunny

Dad!Eddie Munson

As You Wish series - @corroded-hellfire 🌶️🧸❤️‍🩹💔 Part 1-10 82.5K "When Eddie isn’t appreciated like he should be, his babysitter feels the need to step in and comfort him."

Penny 'Verse series - @queenimmadolla "having found a family in your friends, Hawkins is no longer a sinkhole to you, so when you and Eddie discover you’re expecting, letting all your other plans go in favor of starting a family isn’t all that difficult."

PS!Eddie Munson PS!Eddie thread - @rebelfell 🌶️ + Rub One Out 🌶️ 2.8K + Reindeer Games 🌶️ 2.2K

PS!Eddie masterlist - @prettyboyeddiemunson 🌶️🧸

Rockstar!Eddie Munson

Rockstar!Eddie series - @carolmunson 💔🌶️ + 🌟 The King of the Ring Boxer!Steve series - @rustedhearts 💔🌶️ Ex Husband!Eddie Munson

Worth it - @yovrnewromantic 1.2K "eddie kidnaps your kids, charging kisses for ransom"

Untitled - @madelynraemunson 🌶️

Yours, Forever series - @chelseeebe

Vampire!Eddie Munson

You Could Kill Me (and You Should) - @rip-quizilla 🌶️🧛🏻‍♂️ 16K

Vampire!Eddie Munson X Slayer!Reader

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Steve Harrington

Untitled one shot - @munson-blurbs 🌶️

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Emperor Geta

Dulcis Ut Rosa - @trashmouth-richie 🌶️ "brought to Palatine Hill as a gift from your village to the new Emperors— Caracalla claims you as his own, but Geta has his own plans for you when the moon crests into the sky."

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Ralph Penbury

Who's a good boy? - @mypoisonedvine 🌶️ part 2

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Captain Syverson

Duke Sy! series - @cruelfvkingsummer 💔❤️‍🩹🌶️

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Logan Howlett

Tooth & Nail - @eupheme 🌶️ 4K "Logan’s rut begins at a most inopportune time."

Messy - @silverskyeline 🌶️💦

Untitled - @thinkinonsense 🌶️ The Worst Logan - @coweye 🌶️💔 5.8K "You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life."

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

TBR List 🍒✨

Eddie Munson

Saturn Return - @pullhisteeth 🌶️🧸💔 14K "you're from royalty, and the illicit crush you're harbouring on your sworn protector is threatened when your father, the king, reaches the end of his tether and finally begins the search for your husband."

Love Bites - @luveline 🌶️🧸💔❤️‍🩹🧛🏻‍♂️ 20K "eddie munson is super weird. he holds your hand too tight, he has a fascination with your neck, and he can’t give a hickey to save his life. good thing you’re super weird, too."

Daylight series - @abibliophobiaa 💔🌶️ 60K "You’ve never been one for love. Especially after your last round with it. Halloween rolls around and in comes Eddie Munson. He’s only in town for a couple days, you’re looking for no strings, and chances are you’ll never see him again anyway."

Ruined Expectations series - @gaybybirth 🌶️🧸💔 115K "When marriage season begins, you've just returned home from a grand graduation from finishing school. Expectations are high, a marriage and an heir must be produced as soon as possible, and an old friend doesn't seem interested in being a friend any longer. Being the good, obedient daughter that you are expected to be, you do what is asked of you and definitely do NOT get distracted by that old friend. Certainly not. Your childhood friend turned rake who only greets you with disrespect, disgust, and disinterest?"

Burning Yarrow series - @storiesbyrhi 💔🌶️ 93K "No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?"

Of Bone & Bloom series - @mykuup 🌶️🧸💔🌿✨ "By the time you stumbled into his domain, the creature had all but forgotten his original purpose. He was a shadow of his former self, driven by instinct and the remnants of a broken mind. But something about you—the way you moved, the fear in your eyes mixed with defiance—stirred something deep within him. A memory, perhaps, of what he had once been, and what he had lost." I'll Be Home For Christmas series - @eiightysixbaby 💔 "Christmas Eve of 1988 is the last time you saw Eddie, right before he left Hawkins for Chicago, escaping a town that he felt like an outcast in. Now, nearly a year later, Christmas is rapidly approaching again. You’re lost without him, and he’s miserable in the city. Can he right his wrongs and make it home to Hawkins for Christmas, or will everything come crashing down beneath him?"

Death Becomes Us series - @bettyfrommars 🌶️💔🖤🧛🏻‍♂️ 61.2K "Vampires are coming out of the Upside Down and going mainstream in Hawkins. Because of that, the town has become a bit of a tourist destination for people fascinated by vampire lore and the supernatural. Trying to outrun the dark secrets of your past, you decide to lay low in the small town and get a job at a human/vampire crossover bar called Main Vein. You are a recluse who drives a hearse; you have plenty of scars both internal and external. It's been 10 years since Eddie was turned, and the trailer park he lives in is nothing but vampires, that is, until you move in next door. Typical you: running from danger only to find it again." True Blood AU

Anywhere But Here series - @thefreakymunson 💔🧸 "You've taken on a new manager shift as the tour manager for a up and coming band named Corroded Coffin. What you didn't expect was a whirlwind of events to happen after that or for their lead singer to be so attractive."

The Devil I Know series - @fairyysoup 🌶️🌿 "To summon a demon at a crossroads, simply cast a circle, make an offering, and recite an incantation. What happens from that point on is subject to your desire... and the demon's."

Preist!Eddie series - @eddiemunsons-missingnipple 🌶️🧸💔

Rockstar!Eddie series - @enam3l

Evil Woman, Don't You Play Games With Me series - @wheels-of-despair

Just Watch Me - @mediocredreams 🌶️🧸💔 [inc] "After a break-in at your home your father hires some additional personal security, much to your dismay."

Celebrity Skin - @cacoetheswriting 💔🌶️❤️‍🩹 [inc] "as corroded coffin frontman, eddie munson regards himself as perhaps the most important person in the 90s music scene. that is until he meets you — america's favourite starlet. things evolve pretty quickly from there."

Don't Stand So Close To Me - @word-wytch 💔🌶️ [inc] "Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem"

The Customer's Always Right - @lovebugism 💔🌶️ [inc] "eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that."

Own My Mind - @blackcorvette [inc] "1986. Hawkins, Indiana. It’s not your fault that you’re pulled into the messy secrets and hidden world of your small town. It’s not your fault that two of your new acquaintances seem to be fond of you, and not of each other."

Insatiable - @gaybybirth 🌶️ [inc]

Masterlist - @gaybybirth Masterlist - @fairyysoup Masterlist - @greengoblinswifey Masterlist - @hellfire--cult Masterlist - @trashmouth-richie Masterlist - @roanniom Masterlist - @munson-blurbs Masterlist - @seidenbros Masterlist - @queenimmadolla Masterlist - @alrightieaphroditie Masterlist - @decodedlvr Masterlist - @hellfirexhoe Masterlist - @manicpixiedreamcurl Masterlist - @prettyboyeddiemunson Masterlist - @carolmunson Masterlist - @eddiebun Masterlist - @inklore Masterlist - @bettyfrommars Masterlist - @babybluebex Masterlist one + two - @munsonsmixtapes Masterlist - @usedtobecooler (2022)

fic recs by @andvys fic recs by @strangermarvelss 💔

AO3 - @cherrycolored-punk (original text post)

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Steve Harrington

All I Really Want Is You - @loveshotzz "In between summer days, when the sun barely touches the sky, when no one else is awake, you start to fall in love." older!neighbor!widower!steve

Petals for Armour - @maroon-cardigan 57.7K "you were never graceful enough to be a princess, always playing with bows and arrows, while your clumsy but sweet twin brother gregory picked flowers and studied plants outside the castle. childhood was good and gentle to you both until the threat of a war challenged your father, the king. now he must to do whatever it takes to protect your nation, even if that means training greg to go to war and become the heir the kingdom deserves, or marry you off to the future king of the neighbouring kingdom. prince steve always knew he would marry a princess, but he never thought his parents would choose such a rebellious, wild creature like you."

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Emperor Geta

Violent Hearts - @lonelysatellites [inc] "Used as a pawn in your father’s games, you are sent to Rome as a plaything for the Emperors to do with as they please."

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Bucky Barnes

Harmless series - @shurisneakers "Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with"

Masterlist of a Masterlist by @read-just-cant Masterlist - @brunchable Masterlist - @bonky-n-steeb

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

Logan Howlett

fic recs by @lubdubology

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖

~ a categoric thank you to every author that has spent time writing these wonderful works 💗 ~

[seitmai]

Macrinus grasps your shoulders and angles you towards him "I cannot yet deliver you the general's head but I hope you'll accept a consolation prize." The words barely leave Macrinus’s lips before Hanno’s response rings out, as cold and flat as stone. "I have no need of her."

Bein reduced to a price and possession thay can be gifted just to then be unwanted, that stings 💔

"I have brought her all the way here," He continues, growing a little more insistent. "If not you, I’ll have to gift her to another. Or perhaps the men can share her.”

Macrinus is so manipulating, choosing his words to get Hanno’s gears turning..

You thought you knew fear when your husband was killed as the general's army razed your city, but that’s a distant thing to what you feel now. Before you can stop it, a low, terrified sound slips from your lips. It breaks through the tightly held mask of composure you've tried to keep in place.

🥺🥺🥺

Hanno drops the wooden sword in his hand and shifts his grip to your waist. He spins you to face forward and marches you ahead of him. You’re too numb to resist, paralyzed by the overwhelming terror flooding your every nerve. It’s only when you catch sight of the iron gate of his cell that a flicker of resistance surges through your body. You dig your heels into the dirt and twist in his grasp. He doesn’t even flinch as you try to pull away; his body simply shifts with yours, pushing you forward. “Please,” you beg. “Do not do this.” “Stop,” he commands, but he doesn’t sound angry, just tired.��

This is so heartbreaking, for both of them. They are both in this situation that they really don't wanna be in but it's a matter of life and death

You can see the confusion flicker in his eyes, quickly followed by something else. His voice comes out sharp, incredulous even. "The kitchen?" “I do not understand what is happening,” you say. The words tumble out before you can stop them. “No one has told me anything. I was dressed and brought here.” A great swell of emotion sweeps through you and a weak, tearful sound escapes from your throat. Hanno’s expression shifts. He steps back slightly, his grip loosening just enough to give you some space, but still firm enough to remind you that you’re not free to move. For the first time since this encounter began, there’s a crack in his composure, a flicker of guilt; perhaps even a trace of pity. 

It's the moment he realizes they are more or less in the same predicament 🥺💔

"They took me from my husband," you whisper through the tears, your voice barely audible. "My home." Your shaking hands grasp at the delicate golden chains draped around your neck and you tug at them desperately. The metal bends under your fingers, straining, until with a sharp snap, the delicate link breaks. “Now they have reduced me to…to….this.”

It's such a sad moment, she can rip the physical manifestations of the chackle off, but not the real ones...🥲

“We have both known too much loss at the hand of Rome,” he begins. “But I promise you, I will shield you from what I can.” “Why?” The question slips out before you take it back. What did he want from you if not service? What kindness is there left in the world for a slave?

She is so broken and hopeless 💔😭

When his attention returns to you he lifts a hand as if he means to touch you. It hovers just a breath away from your cheek before he drops it. “But I can help you.” You don’t know if you can trust Hanno, but his promise feels like a bridge between the wreckage of your life and whatever might lie beyond this moment of darkness. You want to believe him. You want to hope.  It’s all that’s left to you now.

They both have suffered and lost so much, it probably was fate for them to met and have each other to console and trust after their similar experiences 🥺❤️

Ab Initio

Summary: Terrified and alone, you find comfort in an unlikely place - Rome’s mightiest Gladiator. Pairing: Lucius Verus x F!Reader  Word Count: 2K Rating: Mature. Heavy angst with references to spousal death and SA. Author Note: This is a follow up to Post tenebras lux but in reality it is more of a prologue to that story. I intended to write an epilogue for the story, but I opened my google doc and this happened instead.  Thank you to @ryebecca and @aliensupastar for their beta help. Please comment or reblog if you enjoyed this and want to see more. Or scream at me in my inbox. That always makes my day.

Everything about this place assaults your senses. The air is thick and stifling, heavy with the sour tang of blood, mixing with the acrid stench of the Gladiators' sweat and leather armor. It clings to your skin just like the weight of their eyes. You try to disappear into the folds of your dress, but there's no hiding from the way their stares strip you bare with every passing second. 

You stumble in the unfamiliar sandals, the soft leather soles slick against the cold stone beneath you as Viggo pulls you along. No one has explained your presence here or told you what is to happen. One moment, you were in the kitchen and the next you were dragged into a bath that smelled of lavender and honey, your skin scrubbed raw by the hands of women who wouldn’t meet your eyes. They oiled you, perfumed you, and dressed you in intricate and lavish clothes more befitting of a Roman bride than a slave.

Macrinus marches ahead of you, the edges of his expensive robes dragging through the dust of the ground. He hasn’t even spared you a second look, beyond the brief, cursory inspection when he first laid eyes on you where he declared that you would do.

"Hanno," Macrinus calls out, capturing the attention of one of the Gladiators in the training yard. 

The man he beckons is tall and commanding, his body a perfect balance of strength and leanness that's a testament to hard-won power rather than sheer bulk. His hair is a mass of curly brown locks that match his rugged beard, but it's his eyes — those deep, dark-set blue eyes — that are the most compelling thing about him. They miss nothing, taking in everything with a subtle, calculating sharpness. When he looks at you, it's not just a glance, it's an assessing, cataloging look.  

Macrinus grasps your shoulders and angles you towards him "I cannot yet deliver you the general's head but I hope you'll accept a consolation prize."

The words barely leave Macrinus’s lips before Hanno’s response rings out, as cold and flat as stone. "I have no need of her."

“Come now," Macrinus presses, voice laced with a light, almost teasing amusement, but something darker lurks beneath that veneer of geniality. "She’s here, and she’s yours if you want her."

Hanno just stares back, and Macrinus sighs. 

"I have brought her all the way here," He continues, growing a little more insistent. "If not you, I’ll have to gift her to another. Or perhaps the men can share her.”

You thought you knew fear when your husband was killed as the general's army razed your city, but that’s a distant thing to what you feel now. Before you can stop it, a low, terrified sound slips from your lips. It breaks through the tightly held mask of composure you've tried to keep in place. Hanno’s attention snaps back to you in an instant. There’s something about how he looks at you that’s more measured than before, that makes your stomach churn. There's no compassion or kindness there, only a cold calculation. He looks at you like your discomfort is part of some game or unseen test.

You try to steady your breath, but the terror lingering in your chest is a living thing, crawling beneath your skin. It feels impossible to breathe. Macrinus watches the exchange with quiet satisfaction, but Hanno remains silent, his gaze never leaving you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks. "Very well. I will take her."

Macrinus claps his hands in approval, a sharp sound that cuts through the tense silence. "I told you when we first met that a slave dreams not of freedom, but of his own slaves," he says with a chuckle. "You are not so different, Hanno of Numidia."

Your new master hums, but says nothing else. A push from behind sends you stumbling forward, closer to him. Your heart races and panic surges through you as you instinctively try to pull away, but Hanno is too quick. His grip tightens around your wrist, the roughness of his calloused skin pressing against yours, warm and solid, despite the coolness in the air of the yard.

"Is that all?" he asks. He doesn’t sound particularly interested, just... expectant.

“Yes, yes, go enjoy your hard won prize,” Macrinus encourages with a knowing grin. 

Hanno drops the wooden sword in his hand and shifts his grip to your waist. He spins you to face forward and marches you ahead of him. You’re too numb to resist, paralyzed by the overwhelming terror flooding your every nerve. It’s only when you catch sight of the iron gate of his cell that a flicker of resistance surges through your body. You dig your heels into the dirt and twist in his grasp. He doesn’t even flinch as you try to pull away; his body simply shifts with yours, pushing you forward.

“Please,” you beg. “Do not do this.”

“Stop,” he commands, but he doesn’t sound angry, just tired. 

A scream claws its way up your throat but before the sound can carry, Hanno’s hand is there, pressing over your mouth. As he forces you against the stone wall, his body pressing you into the unforgiving surface, the hand not covering your mouth swiftly moves to the back of your head. His fingers splay wide, cradling your skull before it can slam into the cold stone. The gentleness of the gesture is startling and at odds with the force of his body pinning you against the wall. For a brief moment, his touch feels oddly tender, careful even, like he’s worried about hurting you.

"Easy," Hanno murmurs. “I will not hurt you, but you must calm.” His grip tightens slightly, just enough to make sure you feel his presence, and then he asks, his voice more serious, "Can you do that? Nod if you understand.”

After a moment of stunned silence, you nod.

His shoulders drop and the hand that’s been pressed over your mouth loosens a little, though his fingers still linger. “Good,” he praises and you blink, tears escaping the corner of your eyes. “If I remove my hand will you scream?” He asks.

You shake your head and the weight from your lips disappears. You take in a shuddering breath.

“Who are you?” He questions. “A concubine?”

The word stings, like a slap. You almost choke on them, but you gather enough strength to shake your head. "No. I-I work in the kitchen.”

You can see the confusion flicker in his eyes, quickly followed by something else. His voice comes out sharp, incredulous even. "The kitchen?"

“I do not understand what is happening,” you say. The words tumble out before you can stop them. “No one has told me anything. I was dressed and brought here.” A great swell of emotion sweeps through you and a weak, tearful sound escapes from your throat.

Hanno’s expression shifts. He steps back slightly, his grip loosening just enough to give you some space, but still firm enough to remind you that you’re not free to move. For the first time since this encounter began, there’s a crack in his composure, a flicker of guilt; perhaps even a trace of pity. 

“You have nothing to fear from me,” he says, tilting his head to capture your attention. “I have no desire for you.”

No desire for you? The phrase is meant to comfort you, but all it does is add another layer of confusion to the mess of emotions churning inside. You can’t bring yourself to ask the question burning in your mind: Why, then? Why bring me here, if not for that?

“I will not hurt you,” he assures you again, before releasing your wrist. “But I cannot send you back. I cannot be sure Macrinus won’t punish you if I do.”

“Punish me?” You question. “I-I have done nothing wrong.” The sob that follows is involuntary, a sound so broken it seems to come from somewhere deep, primal. Like an unmoored boat caught in a violent storm, your emotions spin out of control, and everything you suppressed since you were brought to the arena tumbles out. 

"They took me from my husband," you whisper through the tears, your voice barely audible. "My home." Your shaking hands grasp at the delicate golden chains draped around your neck and you tug at them desperately. The metal bends under your fingers, straining, until with a sharp snap, the delicate link breaks. 

“Now they have reduced me to…to….this.”

You reach for the heavy jewels that hang from your ears next. They feel like anchors, pulling you deeper into a place that isn’t yours. With a final, desperate yank, you rip them free and they fall with a dull clink. Tears blur your vision, and you barely register Hanno’s movement as he steps closer. His presence is a sharp contrast to the turmoil inside you — steady, solid, unyielding. You expect him to dismiss your anguish and remind you of your place, but instead, he surprises you.

“I am sorry,” he says sincerely. “I am sorry they have taken so much from you, as they have from me. My wife.” He twists the thin golden ring on his pinky, a shudder passing through his body before he continues speaking. “My city. The only home I knew.”

His unexpected tenderness sweeps away the jagged edges of your panic, and you sink to your knees, exhausted. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes, smearing the carefully applied kohl. Hanno shifts closer, and when you pull your hands from your face, you’re unsurprised to find him kneeling in front of you.

“We have both known too much loss at the hand of Rome,” he begins. “But I promise you, I will shield you from what I can.”

“Why?” The question slips out before you take it back. What did he want from you if not service? What kindness is there left in the world for a slave?

His gaze shifts, hardening, and you can almost feel the change in him before the words come. “I am tired of fighting. Of inflicting pain, all in the name of Rome."  He exhales and looks up at the sliver of sunlight that creeps through the bars of his window. “And perhaps because I could not save her,” he admits, his voice faltering. 

When his attention returns to you he lifts a hand as if he means to touch you. It hovers just a breath away from your cheek before he drops it. “But I can help you.” 

The vulnerability in his admission surprises you. You don’t know what to say nor how to react, but Hanno requires neither. He simply offers you his hand and pulls you to your feet when you accept. You let him guide you to sit on the cot, looking up at him tearfully.

“We should remain here for a while. The others will expect me to…” he trails off and you nod. 

He settles himself on the opposite end of the bed and rests his elbows heavily on his knees, hanging his head forward. In the dim light, you can see how the lines of exhaustion etched into his face are deeper than you noticed before. What you can see of his arms and chest are a constellation of scars and bruises. Some are old and faded while others are fresh and raw. Each is a testament to the violence and suffering he's carried with him.

You look at your own hands, roughened in their own way from work over the years but compared to him, your body feels unmarked by anything significant. It seems impossible that you bear no scars, no visible traces of the grief and pain that consume you. 

You don’t know if you can trust Hanno, but his promise feels like a bridge between the wreckage of your life and whatever might lie beyond this moment of darkness. You want to believe him. You want to hope. 

It’s all that’s left to you now.

♡

My inbox is open for your thoughts on Lucius and requests for drabbles with his character

[leraneacide]

RIP OMEGLE

💔

The ongoing project "you're watching two strangers" is officially over.

“Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.” — C.S. Lewis

“In the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move.” — Douglas Adams

Dear strangers,

From the moment I discovered the Internet at a young age, it has been a magical place to me. Growing up in a small town, relatively isolated from the larger world, it was a revelation how much more there was to discover – how many interesting people and ideas the world had to offer.

As a young teenager, I couldn’t just waltz onto a college campus and tell a student: “Let’s debate moral philosophy!” I couldn’t walk up to a professor and say: “Tell me something interesting about microeconomics!” But online, I was able to meet those people, and have those conversations. I was also an avid Wikipedia editor; I contributed to open source software projects; and I often helped answer computer programming questions posed by people many years older than me.

In short, the Internet opened the door to a much larger, more diverse, and more vibrant world than I would have otherwise been able to experience; and enabled me to be an active participant in, and contributor to, that world. All of this helped me to learn, and to grow into a more well-rounded person.

Moreover, as a survivor of childhood rape, I was acutely aware that any time I interacted with someone in the physical world, I was risking my physical body. The Internet gave me a refuge from that fear. I was under no illusion that only good people used the Internet; but I knew that, if I said “no” to someone online, they couldn’t physically reach through the screen and hold a weapon to my head, or worse. I saw the miles of copper wires and fiber-optic cables between me and other people as a kind of shield – one that empowered me to be less isolated than my trauma and fear would have otherwise allowed.

I launched Omegle when I was 18 years old, and still living with my parents. It was meant to build on the things I loved about the Internet, while introducing a form of social spontaneity that I felt didn’t exist elsewhere. If the Internet is a manifestation of the “global village”, Omegle was meant to be a way of strolling down a street in that village, striking up conversations with the people you ran into along the way.

The premise was rather straightforward: when you used Omegle, it would randomly place you in a chat with someone else. These chats could be as long or as short as you chose. If you didn’t want to talk to a particular person, for whatever reason, you could simply end the chat and – if desired – move onto another chat with someone else. It was the idea of “meeting new people” distilled down to almost its platonic ideal.

Building on what I saw as the intrinsic safety benefits of the Internet, users were anonymous to each other by default. This made chats more self-contained, and made it less likely that a malicious person would be able to track someone else down off-site after their chat ended.

I didn’t really know what to expect when I launched Omegle. Would anyone even care about some Web site that an 18 year old kid made in his bedroom in his parents’ house in Vermont, with no marketing budget? But it became popular almost instantly after launch, and grew organically from there, reaching millions of daily users. I believe this had something to do with meeting new people being a basic human need, and with Omegle being among the best ways to fulfill that need. As the saying goes: “If you build a better mousetrap, the world will beat a path to your door.”

Over the years, people have used Omegle to explore foreign cultures; to get advice about their lives from impartial third parties; and to help alleviate feelings of loneliness and isolation. I’ve even heard stories of soulmates meeting on Omegle, and getting married. Those are only some of the highlights.

Unfortunately, there are also lowlights. Virtually every tool can be used for good or for evil, and that is especially true of communication tools, due to their innate flexibility. The telephone can be used to wish your grandmother “happy birthday”, but it can also be used to call in a bomb threat. There can be no honest accounting of Omegle without acknowledging that some people misused it, including to commit unspeakably heinous crimes.

I believe in a responsibility to be a “good Samaritan”, and to implement reasonable measures to fight crime and other misuse. That is exactly what Omegle did. In addition to the basic safety feature of anonymity, there was a great deal of moderation behind the scenes, including state-of-the-art AI operating in concert with a wonderful team of human moderators. Omegle punched above its weight in content moderation, and I’m proud of what we accomplished.

Omegle’s moderation even had a positive impact beyond the site. Omegle worked with law enforcement agencies, and the National Center for Missing and Exploited Children, to help put evildoers in prison where they belong. There are “people” rotting behind bars right now thanks in part to evidence that Omegle proactively collected against them, and tipped the authorities off to.

All that said, the fight against crime isn’t one that can ever truly be won. It’s a never-ending battle that must be fought and re-fought every day; and even if you do the very best job it is possible for you to do, you may make a sizable dent, but you won’t “win” in any absolute sense of that word. That’s heartbreaking, but it’s also a basic lesson of criminology, and one that I think the vast majority of people understand on some level. Even superheroes, the fictional characters that our culture imbues with special powers as a form of wish fulfillment in the fight against crime, don’t succeed at eliminating crime altogether.

In recent years, it seems like the whole world has become more ornery. Maybe that has something to do with the pandemic, or with political disagreements. Whatever the reason, people have become faster to attack, and slower to recognize each other’s shared humanity. One aspect of this has been a constant barrage of attacks on communication services, Omegle included, based on the behavior of a malicious subset of users.

To an extent, it is reasonable to question the policies and practices of any place where crime has occurred. I have always welcomed constructive feedback; and indeed, Omegle implemented a number of improvements based on such feedback over the years. However, the recent attacks have felt anything but constructive. The only way to please these people is to stop offering the service. Sometimes they say so, explicitly and avowedly; other times, it can be inferred from their act of setting standards that are not humanly achievable. Either way, the net result is the same.

Omegle is the direct target of these attacks, but their ultimate victim is you: all of you out there who have used, or would have used, Omegle to improve your lives, and the lives of others. When they say Omegle shouldn’t exist, they are really saying that you shouldn’t be allowed to use it; that you shouldn’t be allowed to meet random new people online. That idea is anathema to the ideals I cherish – specifically, to the bedrock principle of a free society that, when restrictions are imposed to prevent crime, the burden of those restrictions must not be targeted at innocent victims or potential victims of crime.

Consider the idea that society ought to force women to dress modestly in order to prevent rape. One counter-argument is that rapists don’t really target women based on their clothing; but a more powerful counter-argument is that, irrespective of what rapists do, women’s rights should remain intact. If society robs women of their rights to bodily autonomy and self-expression based on the actions of rapists – even if it does so with the best intentions in the world – then society is practically doing the work of rapists for them.

Fear can be a valuable tool, guiding us away from danger. However, fear can also be a mental cage that keeps us from all of the things that make life worth living. Individuals and families must be allowed to strike the right balance for themselves, based on their own unique circumstances and needs. A world of mandatory fear is a world ruled by fear – a dark place indeed.

I’ve done my best to weather the attacks, with the interests of Omegle’s users – and the broader principle – in mind. If something as simple as meeting random new people is forbidden, what’s next? That is far and away removed from anything that could be considered a reasonable compromise of the principle I outlined. Analogies are a limited tool, but a physical-world analogy might be shutting down Central Park because crime occurs there – or perhaps more provocatively, destroying the universe because it contains evil. A healthy, free society cannot endure when we are collectively afraid of each other to this extent.

Unfortunately, what is right doesn’t always prevail. As much as I wish circumstances were different, the stress and expense of this fight – coupled with the existing stress and expense of operating Omegle, and fighting its misuse – are simply too much. Operating Omegle is no longer sustainable, financially nor psychologically. Frankly, I don’t want to have a heart attack in my 30s.

The battle for Omegle has been lost, but the war against the Internet rages on. Virtually every online communication service has been subject to the same kinds of attack as Omegle; and while some of them are much larger companies with much greater resources, they all have their breaking point somewhere. I worry that, unless the tide turns soon, the Internet I fell in love with may cease to exist, and in its place, we will have something closer to a souped-up version of TV – focused largely on passive consumption, with much less opportunity for active participation and genuine human connection. If that sounds like a bad idea to you, please consider donating to the Electronic Frontier Foundation, an organization that fights for your rights online.

From the bottom of my heart, thank you to everyone who used Omegle for positive purposes, and to everyone who contributed to the site’s success in any way. I’m so sorry I couldn’t keep fighting for you.

I thank A.M. for opening my eyes to the human cost of Omegle.

Sincerely, Leif K-Brooks Founder, Omegle.com LLC

To contact Omegle, please visit here for more information.

[lesbiradshaw]

bestie you can’t just say that you have a whole stevebucky wedding planned and then NOT tell us!!!!!

i’ll write it one day i swear … but for now just know it def involves bucky staging all of the music and sam being steve’s best man

[early20sfailingplenty]

All alone I break // upset!reader x Sinclairs // choose your own dynamic (platonic or romantic).

Summary: you're having a really bad day and none of the Sinclairs are around to comfort you. You wander the town, lonely and upset and tired, and just as you break, all alone in the middle of the main street, you're found and brought home emotionally and physically.

Got pissed off at my parents again for multiple reasons so wrote this to calm myself down. Hopefully it provides someone some comfort! I wrote this as a 'you're dating/are very close to all the Sinclairs' dynamic, but it could also be read as platonic; I've left it up to individual interpretation. Take what you need from this fic.🥺

AS ALWAYS, GENDER NEUTRAL READER, NO CODED LANGUAGE, Y/N AND "YOU" USED.

TW; canon typical darkness, murder, crying (reader), fic's built around being and feeling alone (you're having a bad day and want some cuddles/comfort but no one's around🥺😭💔), reader is morally just as bad as the Sinclairs (I can't see you being in Ambrose permanently and NOT having at least a grey morality), possessive language ("your Sinclairs"), irresponsible driving (Lester is on the phone with you while he drives) but nothing bad happens, swearing, mentions of alcohol, this could be read as containing toxic relationship elements, but just like always, I wrote this to be a genuine love and connection between you and the brothers so if it does come across to contain toxic elements, please know it was unintentional!!! It just occurred to me that it could come across that way so I'm mentioning it here.

Word count: 4, 097 (why can I never write a short thing, I😩)

The town was quiet and you knew not where anyone was. The last you had heard, Bo was in the garage working on his truck after some fucker had thrown a beer bottle at the headlight and subsequently broken it (and, oh, how Bo had ripped the man to shreds in retaliation), Vincent was in the basement turning said man into one of his latest art works (the location of which was to be in some barely used, dusty room because Vincent was a petty man when he wanted to be), and Lester was, well... you never really knew where Lester was.

That was the last you had heard.

But that had been hours ago.

The garage lights weren't on and there was no music blaring out from the main room which was used to maintain the illusion of a quaint, bustling town. There were no sounds to alert you of Bo's presence, and the metal grate just off the often walked curb only emitted darkness and silence. Bo wasn't there. You took comfort in the sight of his truck, thinking that that meant he was still in Ambrose, until you remembered that there were many other vehicles on the roads (to give the illusion of others living in the town) which he could have used as his transport.

The basement had been filled with nothing but thunderous silence; the engines switched off because the main part of Vincent's work (the wax application which always turned your stomach just a little) was done. The statue was there in the middle of the room, almost finished, but Vincent was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Jonesy for that matter, which led you to believe that Vincent, too, had left Ambrose. Both human and dog being absent typically meant a trip out.

And Lester was presumably safe and well somewhere else, far from Ambrose. His house was on the outskirts of the neighbouring town; too far a distance for you to walk by yourself at this time of night... if the others had left Ambrose, then you were better off staying. Ambrose could never be left unattended, lest its many many secrets be discovered by someone it shouldn't be.

As for you, you were walking the street which led into Ambrose off the curve from the washed out road which shielded the town from people who didn't know where to look through the foliage to find the path. The church was up ahead of you, its lights on but nobody home, the garage station was dark and silent, and behind you was the pet shop, but that was quiet, too. Nobody was around. It was just you.

Just you...

You had previously been searching quietly, checking every building which was unlocked (of which there weren't many; just enough to maintain the illusion even with the lack of visitors to the town this night) and carrying out your searches with curiosity and a need which was climbing quickly from the pit of your stomach, up, up your oesophagus to get lodged in your chest. It had wrapped around your heart and with each empty room and with each Sinclair nowhere to be seen, it constricted and made you feel breathless. You knew not where your Sinclairs were, and it only made your emotional needs all the heavier, the lump in your throat increasingly apparent.

With everywhere checked and none of the Sinclairs found, you resorted to phoning Lester as you stood between the church and the gas station, having completed a full circuit of the town just by following the roads.The twins hadn't been in the house, where you had started the search, so you were well and truly out of options. Where the hell were they? You were beginning to not only miss them with such a strong need to know where they were, if only to know that they were safe and okay and alive, but you were also beginning to worry. Had something happened to them? Lester picked up after the fifth ring. It wasn't terribly late in the evening but you wondered if perhaps you had disturbed him in something somehow.

"Hey, Y/N!"

Oh, his voice... it sounded heavenly to you, especially after the rough day you had had prior to this, and you gripped your phone tighter. You wanted to climb inside Lester's voice, to be safe within him. It was the first bit of company you had had for hours. His voice caused the lump in your throat and the need wrapped around your heart to tighten and you felt the telltale sting of tears in the backs of your eyes and in the back of your nose. You swallowed thickly, "Hi, Lester." You took the phone away from your ear so you could compose yourself, but it was too late. Lester knew you far too well, and he heard your tears in your voice.

"S'matter, sweetpea? Bo bein' mean t'ya again?" Lester's voice hardened somewhat as he realised that something was wrong, but his tone was soft. It was a duality only the Sinclairs could manage, to be cold yet so feeling at the same time.

You huffed a watery laugh, your eyes wet and your tear ducts heavy with that which hadn't fallen yet. "No... at least if Bo was being mean to me, I'd know where he was... I don't know where Vinny is, either. They weren't in the house when I was so I thought they were in the garage and basement respectively, but... they're not there and neither are you and I don't know where you all are and I'm alone and - " Talking to Lester had tipped you over the edge from which you had been clinging to all day. You had woken up not feeling good, and the day's inconveniences on top of your responsibilities, duties and your already bad mood had collectively gotten the best of you. Not having the Sinclairs with you had made everything that much worse - you had only wanted to know where they were because the knowledge of their existences alone comforted you - and a sob ripped from your throat so strongly that your body gave out and you dropped to your knees. Right there, alone in the middle of the dark street, did you begin to cry in earnest, your anguish and distress so loud that it almost drowned out the low, soothing shushing which Lester was doing as he tried to comfort you as best as he could from miles away.

"Y're all right', darlin'. We'll find 'em," Lester was startled by your tears and confused; why had you phoned him and not one of his brothers? But he was also touched to realise that he had been your first thought when you hadn't known what else to do. You needed him as much as you needed his brothers, and it only made Lester love you more than he already did. "S'okay, Y/N, y're okay." He continued to murmur sweet nothings to you, his tone soft. You missed the tinkling of metal on metal as Lester grabbed his truck keys, the noise of boots crunching on gravel. "Did ya' check the sugar mill, darlin'?"

Everything stopped for just a moment as your weary mind raced to catch up. "... The where?"

Lester chuckled quietly, though there was little funny about the situation. You wondered if it was a stress or a panic response, or even just an awkward way to fill the silence, but the thought left your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You were just too tired to think; the world had pushed you too far today and you just wanted the Sinclairs. "M'brothers keep cars there from folks needin' fan-belts so they c'n strip 'em for parts." There was a muffled thud as Lester shut the truck door with the phone tucked between his ear and his shoulder, but you weren't paying much attention to anything other than Lester's voice, so you barely put the pieces together. He was coming for you.

"Is it in Ambrose?" Hope bloomed in your chest, as did the feeling of having overreacted and feeling silly, but you were in such a bad mood and so needy for the brothers that you barely cared. Bo would probably grumble, but even he couldn't find it in him to turn you down when you were in tears. If you were crying, it was somethin' serious and the brothers would walk through hell just to make you smile again. You would do the same for them in a heartbeat, so close were the three of you.

Lester didn't answer you directly. Truthfully, he wasn't sure if it was in Ambrose or just outside of the town, and he didn't much care, either. He had as little as possible to do with what went on in the family business and that was the way that it was going to stay. You were so much more important to him. "Where y'at, darlin'?"

You sniffled, your tears beginning to slow now, and on shaky legs did you stand. You didn't bother wiping them away, your eyes red-rimmed and sore but the tears continued to crash around you. "M' on the road where the church is. Gas station to my left and pet store just behind me. I checked everywhere but the sugar mill because I didn't even know - " Tears poured hot and heavy down your cheeks, but you were too worn down to do anything about it. You let them fall and your body once more followed until you found yourself on your knees again. You were physically and emotionally exhausted and you wanted the Sinclairs more than anything. You loved Lester, you did, but his voice just wasn't enough.

You needed more.

"Stay right there, sweetpea, don't you move." Lester's tone was reassuring but you knew that there was also a demand. He was a lot like his brothers and he didn't even bother to phrase it as a question. Lester was telling you to stay rooted to the spot, where you had told him you were. You normally did things out of spite, you did things you were told not to do... but when it was an emergency or when one of the brothers adopted a very specific tone - the one Lester had just used on you - it was a code which they had taught you. It told you to not defy them, to listen, and it was the one time, when there were no other options, you would do as you were told. It wasn't used often, only when it had to be, and it only made your worry for the brothers increase because Lester had never used it on you before. The twins had (Vincent's hand gestures had a particular feel, or vibe, to them when he was using it on you), but never Lester. It was times like this that you were forced to remember just how dark all of the brothers were. None of them were gentler than the others; they were all dark, dangerous, but you only loved them more for it. "I gotta hang up, darlin'. Jus' sit tight for me."

"No, Lester, please - "

The dial tone sounded before you could finish your sentence and you bowed your head, the phone tightly held in your grasp. You were so done with the day and your exhausting and emotional upheaval only made it even more so. It was obvious that Lester was on his way to you, for there was no other reason he would have told you to stay put, but what about the twins? Where were they? You looked up and around at the town, naming the 'shops' and places as you did as a way of distracting yourself and giving your mind something to do other than rip itself to shreds. You weren't to move from the spot, but even if Lester hadn't used that tone on you, you weren't sure that you would have moved. You only wanted to be picked up and cradled into someone's chest, so tired were you that you didn't even want to move. Gravel was biting into your skin and the sting of it kept you grounded in the moment, even as you cried all over again. Oh, but today had hurt you so much and you just wanted the world to go away so that you could spend time with the Sinclairs and just forget about everyone and everything except for them.

You didn't know how long you had been sat on the ground talking to Lester, but the sky had darkened from a bruised collection of purples and reds into a pitch black, punctuated only by stars long since dead. It was a quiet, tranquil evening, perfectly juxtaposed by the torment and anguish which had physically brought you to your knees, your shoulders bowed inwards as they shook with the weight of all that had been placed upon them. The Sinclairs were your reprieve from such cruelty in the world, but there was little they could do about the demons within.

Your phone rang and you jumped. A hand flew to your throat as you fumbled to pick up the call, your voice breathless and your need stronger than ever. "Hello?"

"M'sorry I had ta' hang up, sweetpea," You could almost picture Lester's mouth turning downwards as he shook his head, "Had ta' sort sumthin' out." He was being deliberately vague about something and a suspicion pinged in your mind but you didn't say anything about it. The only thing in your mind right now was getting what you wanted - the brothers. You just wanted the Sinclairs and, help you, but it only made you want to cry anew with every passing moment marked only by their absences. "M' comin', darlin', ain't far now."

You could hear his voice in the distance and you could just detect the rapid crunch on gravel and you smiled. You smiled for the first time all day and it made the ache in your chest and in Lester's ease somewhat to hear it in your voice as you said, "I hear you." You cut the call and looked around to see which direction he was coming from - a pointless endeavour because there was only one road which curved into Ambrose, but it kept you occupied for the few seconds it took Lester to stalk up the road to you.

When he spotted you illuminated by the street lights, he quickened his pace until he was almost at a jog and raised a hand by way of greeting. His happy smile dropped like a stone when he took in your tear-stained cheeks, your obviously sore eyes, your body language. "Oh, darlin'," Lester sighed, "That bad, huh?" Oh, but the sound of his voice... you stood on shaky, dead legs (numb were they from a lack of circulation due to your position on the floor) and threw yourself at Lester. He caught you, he caught you, and he held you tightly as his hands rubbed up and down your back in fluid, strong motions. "I got'cha, darlin', s'all righ'." You melted into him and Lester shifted his weight to accommodate you. "Y'seen 'em?"

"No," you sniffled and Lester pulled away to wipe your tears away with calloused, slightly dirty hands. He had washed up in the time since you had seen him last, but his truck was never cleaned and so it always rubbed off on him. "Only you. I checked everywhere apart from the mill. I didn't even think..." The rest of your sentence was drowned out by tyres screeching around a corner, gravel going flying and leaving a dust cloud as a bright yellow vehicle - Vincent's truck - came screaming up the road towards you and Lester. It barely came to a stop before both driver and passenger doors flew open and like a synchronised dance did Bo and Vincent climb out, slamming their doors shut in near perfect harmony - Vincent pausing to make sure Jonesy was secured in the backseat - as they rushed over to you and Lester.

"What the fuck happened, Y/N?" Bo got to you first as he grabbed you and pulled you into his body. Oh, but your tears fell anew for the third or fourth time - you had lost count of how many crying sessions you had had during the shittiest day you had had in a long time - and you clung to Bo, sobbing into his black shirt. He shushed you and you felt Vincent's grip on your waist, his wax mouth rested on the back of your head. You picked up a muffled 'mmf' noise from behind you as it vibrated against your body and your tried and tired mind registered it as a sound of worry and concern. You knew that his eye would be checking you over clinically to make sure that you weren't hurt, but when he ascertained that you were physically all right, his eye turned to Lester, demanding an explanation for your state. None of them had ever seen you this upset, this needy for them, and it was as confusing for them as it was for you. Clearly, this had been building within you for a long time and you had broken, first alone and worried, but now surrounded by love and protected. Safe.

"I - " You couldn't speak, your throat closed up with all the tears left to shed and just as many soaked into Bo's clothes, and Lester's dark eyes met your own, a look on his face so tender that it made your tears fall faster, and he understood what you were asking him to do. You couldn't speak, and you were asking him to do it for you. You trusted him with your words and emotions, you had come to him first so many times this night, and Lester only felt his heart break for you. He longed to take it away from you, to make it all better, but he couldn't, and neither could his brothers. They could only be there for you to help you ride it out, just as you did for the three of them when times called for it.

Vincent made another noise, this time one of impatience, and Bo sighed as he stepped back just enough for Vincent to come in, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. You melted into Vincent like the art medium he so favoured, your fingers in his hair (the tips crunchy with wax and the roots greasy, but that was a problem for tomorrow) and your face burrowed in his chest, and Bo stayed at your back, his chin resting on your shoulder with his head turned slightly as his beautiful blues eyed up Lester, still waiting. He would only ever ask once and if you couldn't give him and Vincent what they wanted, awkwardly sandwiched were you between the twins (and, oh, it was right where you had wanted to be ever since you had left the house this evening), then Lester would.

"I ain't never seen 'em like this. Phoned me up cryin' and sayin' they couldn't find ya', and it got worse the more I was speakin' to 'em. Di'nt know what ta' do 'cept come up here and ya' know I phoned ya' up after I finished on the phone with Y/N. Bad day, I s'pose. Real fuckin' bad day." Bo and Vincent both seemed to physically deflate with worry (neither of them had said it, but they had clearly broken more than a few traffic laws to get to you and Lester so their actions spoke louder than verbal words ever could) and they gripped you tighter. You looked up from Vincent's chest, trying to find Lester, and he smiled and stepped forward some more so that his upper arm was brushing against Bo's. "M'here, darlin'. We ain't leavin' ya'."

"Like hell," Bo growled, agreeing with Lester, "Get 'em in the truck, Vincent. An' you," He nodded at his youngest brother. "Goin' up to th' house. Can't stand out here all night." To you, Bo then said, "M'sorry, darlin'. We only stepped out to get some supplies an' I needed Vincent to help me load it up and carry shit in to the house. Didn't mean to scare ya'." Within that last sentence did you hear a promise to not do that to you again, to leave a note for you next time so that you didn't have to worry. They were more than capable of looking after themselves, you knew it well, but one stray bullet, one flick of a blade, and they could be lost to you forever. It was enough to make you want to cry even when you were in a good mood, this the brothers knew well. They worried for you as much as you worried for them, such was the immeasurable depths of emotion between the four of you.

Bo's apology made you freeze but you swiped a hand over your face. "No, I'm sorry, it's... been a horrible day and I've just had enough." You wanted to ask if they had gotten everything they need, but you knew that there was nothing in the world to stop the twins when they wanted something, truly so ruthless were they. They would have hurried through their supply run, but they wouldn't have stopped. You gestured vaguely towards the truck and went to walk off, but Vincent's grip became reminiscent of a boa constrictor and he shook his head at you. You understood and stayed still so that he could scoop you up effortlessly. He brought you into his chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck as he nuzzled his masked face into the side of your head as he carried you to the truck. Bo got into the driver's side and Lester climbed into the passenger seat, which meant that you and Vincent could sit quite comfortably tangled up together in the backseat.

It was a short journey, with the house only being two blocks away, but between Bo and Lester talking in the front seats, Vincent's lap being your wax throne upon, your general exhaustion, Jonesy's head under your hands as you found comfort in her soft fur and the safety and protection which had descended upon you like a thick, warm blanket with the arrival of the twins, you were quickly lulled to your threshold consciousness. You wanted to curl up on the sofa with your family and watch some crappy television and just forget the world and now, after a day in which everything could have gone wrong did go wrong, that was exactly what you were going to get.

When the truck pulled to a slow stop, you reluctantly slid off Vincent's lap, your back and lower body cold with the ghost of his touch (and how you ached to get back to where you wanted to be) and helped Bo to get everything in; between the four of you, the supplies were quickly off loaded and put away. You were jittery now, on edge and getting ready for bed was a process you rushed just so you could get what you wanted faster. Despite your anticipation, your body felt heavy and sluggish, but you were too tired to cry anymore and everything hurt. Bo had everything ready for you when you finally joined the brothers downstairs; there were beers on the table if you wanted to imbibe, snacks scattered around as if Bo had just grabbed them from the cupboards and thrown them over his shoulder into the living room (he had), blankets in a neat pile on one of the sofa arms, and all three brothers sat on the sofa, so closely that their shoulders were touching and Jonesy spread down at their feet.

You lowered yourself down onto the sofa with them, with your head in Bo's lap and your body stretched across Vincent's and Lester's, too, and your body took a naturally deep, deep breath. Finally, finally, you were home. You were all home, safe and sound and protected, and that was all that mattered. You had broken alone, but you would be supported and surrounded with love until you felt better. But even when you did, the Sinclairs would be there. They would always be, for Ambrose was your home and so were they.

None of you were goin' nowhere, and that was just how you all wanted it.

[camlyee]

dw i understand, i’m a regular in the hsr discord server and it’s.. Yeah (but i enjoy chatting there nonetheless 💔). and make sure u have aven in the middle of the party so he can get hit more freq. and do fuas (since those help apply shields n all)..

honestly you can probably sacrifice some def for speed, if u wanted to run him on spd boots instead of def boots (thatll take u to around 133-ish spd).. since ideal def is technically around 4k. that might be easier to do instead of ripping ur hair out over spd substats

The Aventurine fund is coming along quite nicely if I do say so myself. I've got a guaranteed 50 and decent amount of pity. So now it basically comes down to playing the waiting game.

I swear I'll be the most insufferable person you've never met when his next banner comes out.

Until then I'll just keep posting about how unbelievably pretty and well-written and amazing and awesome and amazing and everything good and awesome and cool he is.