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vervainandspritz · 2 days ago

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HEADCANONS - what would he do to get you in the mood?

Characters: Lenny Miller, Jonathan Crane, Robert Fischer, Jackson Rippner, Raymond Leon, Emmett (TQPII), Tommy Shelby,

A/N: Requested by @lau219 ,y'all feel free to send requests.

Lenny Miller - Leonard is an experienced man, he knows how to get his way around Y/N. Pretty frequently on his way home, he would already have a rough plan on the evening ahead of them. Sometimes grabbing a bouquet of flowers in the nearby florist shop or a bottle of wine. After coming home, Lenny impatiently would find her around the house, searching for any physical contact he could get. "Did you miss me like I missed you?" He'd ask her in that velvety voice, thumbs rubbing up and down on the little crevice of her hips, almost teasing. Sometimes they end up sitting on the couch, Y/N's feet on his lap as she told him all about her day, while Leonard listened and gave her a massage, hands barely visibly moving higher with each stroke. "Poor girl" He liked to tease, closing the proximity once his pants became too tight in a crotch from the simple touches. "Left you all alone here" From that point, he didn't play coy. Knowing all the right spots to touch, he effortlessly kept making her go soft, almost putty in his hands.

Jonathan Crane - Jonathan's methods differed depending on the mood he was in. Sometimes days in Arkham were more difficult than the others, and so his patience ran thin. He'd come back home abruptly, peeling the layers of clothing away. The way he'd press his bare, hot chest against Y/N's back, searching closeness he could get only from her. "Was it a bad day?" She would ask, turning around to face him. Sometimes it would all start from the touch as innocent as holding hands, when he'd direct her hand to his cheek, steely blue eyes carefully studying her body covered in the clothes she was wearing. Pulling her closer till their fronts would connect, and she'd feel the proof of his urgency. His own hands landing on her back, massaging the skin and pulling her against his chest while simultaneously hiding his face in her neck. The way she'd feel him so intensely slightly trembling, connected with shivering delightfully from how his hot breath bounced off her skin could come off as symptoms of fear to a mind so great in his very major.

Robert Fischer - Robert's favourite way of showing affection would come on display as soon as he made it through the door. He thoroughly enjoyed the ability Y/N taught him - talking. Using words of affection was one of the greatest joys for both of them, after all the time it took for him to get used to doing so. "I couldn't stop thinking about you. Missed you so much" He spoke softly into her ear, the vulnerable tone of his voice showing nothing but honesty. Y/N immediately mirrored his mood most of the time, growing warm in his embrace. In a couple swift movements he'd gain access to her skin, caressing it delicately while simultaneously holding her gaze. "I need you" he'd confess quietly, leaning to capture her lips in a kiss so needy, Y/N could barely breathe.

Jackson Rippner - Jackson was anything but patient when this urge would hit. It wouldn't matter whether she was busy or not, his hot hands would grasp her hips, often pressing her against something to gain control. Leaning down to graze his nose against the sensitive skin of her neck, taking in the scent that never failed to make him hard. "Jackson, I'm busy" Y/N would sometimes manage to stutter out, feeling the heavy weight of his body against her back. A quiet chuckle would push past his lips, as he pressed harder. "What can possibly be more important than taking care of your man?" His voice would come off arrogant, often purposely. Knowing how well it worked on working her up. His roughed up hands would move higher, barely brushing against her breasts to come resting on her throat, not squeezing just yet. "Feel what you do to me, sweetheart?" He'd growl, nearly on the edge of just... Bending her over the desk and taking what he wanted. Giving her throat a little squeeze, he'd quickly reach between her legs, getting a hold of her. Jackson's lips would stretch into an arrogant grin as he'd feel the wetness beneath her panties. Lightly rubbing against her covered slit, he'd lean closer to whisper. "So wet and needy. I'll give you what you need, but you owe me one, hmm?"

Raymond Leon - Raymond wasn't one to ask, not to.. talk too much. He liked to use the advantage of how easily bothered Y/N would get seeing him like that. "What are you doing?" he'd ask like it mattered, leaning on the counter, crossing his arms over his bare chest. His scent and warmth would be enough to make her notice the close proximity, causing Y/N to squeeze her thighs together lightly. Not going unnoticed under his watchful gaze, as he'd keep looking at her, knowing well she could feel him watching. Brushing his arm lightly against hers, he'd move around pretending to be busy before finally having her cornered. She'd be breathing heavily, eyes taking greedily the sight of his bare, freckles skin and muscles on his torso. Sooner or later his hands would end up on her face, pulling her closer. Their noses brushing against each other as he'd smile, looking deeply into her eyes. "What got you so bothered, honey?" Raymond would ask, because even though he hated talking, he secretly loved hearing her talk.

Emmett - His favourite thing to get Y/N in the mood would always be kissing. He'd lean in for a kiss, his arms wrapping tightly around her middle to keep her in place. The deep groans leaving his lips would echo in her stomach, making the heat pool to the lower side of it. "So beautiful" He'd murmur in a deep voice, keeping her lips occupied with his own while slowly touching and grasping every inch of her skin he could get to. "Emmett–" Y/N's whiny voice would never cease to make him lightheaded as he moved lower, kissing a trail they both knew by heart already. "Keep saying it, baby. Keep saying my name" His voice was rougher with lust as he kept her legs apart, kissing her stomach and hips. She had a hard time staying still, squirming needily in his grasp. "Come here.." He cooed, looking her in the eyes as his face moved closer to where she needed him the most. "Let me take care of you" Emmett whispered, as his face leaned down, diving between her legs.

Tommy Shelby - Thomas loved the control he secretly held over Y/N when it comes to her needs. Being so fluent in directing them with his touch or affection. The way she'd move around, doing her own thing while pretending to not feel how he looked at her. "Come here, darling" He'd eventually call out, patting his thigh. He'd use the close proximity to look her in the eyes, encouraging to talk about her whereabouts when he was at work, while petting her thighs lightly. He touched and felt, eyes following the tender lines of her body beneath the clothes she wore. He'd proceed to touch caress her cheeks, pulling her closer as he murmured how beautiful she was. Y/N could never remain unaffected under his rough fingers and soft words, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "You're my good girl, aren't you? Always so good for me." He purred, feeling how fast her heartbeat became under the weight of his seductive words. He'd gently rub her inner thighs, before parting her legs and letting his hands claim what was his Swallowing every cry that would come out of her mouth not longer after, as she writhed on his lap in orgasmic spasms.

#cillian murphy #tommy shelby #Raymond Leon #Robert Fischer #Jonathan Crane #Thomas Shelby #Jackson Rippner #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #thomas shelby #jackson rippner #tommy shelby smut #raymond leon #raymond leon x reader #tommy shelby x reader #headcanon #headcanons #smut #lenny miller

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timmydraker · 2 days ago

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Thinking about Vampire Tim AU and him saving Bruce via turning.

None of the Drakes are actually Vampires, at least not permanently. It was a very strange instance that occurred out of pure chance and coincidence.

A pregnant Janet Drake in a foreign country having a run in with a starving vampire rouge that bite her just a few days before she gave birth.

Instead of the curse spreading to her, the labour of her child pushed and the spreading of lifeform spread to her baby as it was born. The child looked healthy, had no inhuman features, and they assumed her being so sick was simply the fact she was about to give birth.

Tim doesn’t realise what he is for a while purely because his parents are vegan and, until he was seven and had some beef from a classmates lunch, hadn’t had any blood enter his mouth.

Having to teach himself everything, Tim learned to manage both his hunger and abilities as quickly as he could. He studied history and mythos and did several test to figure out the limits to what he needed and could do.

He learnt that he could heal via blood, that he could go without air for days, and that his hearing was normal though his sense of smell was enough to distinguish blood types.

He learn that he could go two weeks without blood before it became a problem, but if he pushed it past three weeks he would start to experience literally decay.

Tim disconcerted his saving grace was that the hunger wasn’t as uncontrollable as people made it out to be in movies and books. At most, it was just like normal human hunger or thirst, and he was aware there was a huge variable in him being raised rather poorly.

He keeps it hidden for years, but then when he’s nineteen Bruce dies.

Not Batman, Bruce.

They got in a car crash of all things, the other drive running after they drove them off the road on the extremely rare instance that Alfred wasn’t driving.

Tim watched the tree branch in his foster father’s chest for several minutes as he thought about his options. Bruce was dead upon impact, gone with only the last wisps of life hanging to him.

Bruce was a father.

Batman was needed.

Even though it would out what he was, Tim forced his several sharp teeth out, all needle sharp and long enough his jaw had to unhinge slightly, and bit into his own wrist. The fangs, an inch long each, dug into his skin painfully before moving to dig into each of Bruce’s wrist and then finally his neck.

Tim smeared the blood into all three wounds and then squeezed as much as he could into Bruce’s mouth.

He had no idea how he knew what to do, trusting the instinct the curse seemed to just… give him.

When Bruce begins to breath again, Clark finally shows up. It’s been a total of eleven minutes and Tim only realises that the other took so long because he had been off planet, yet he is grateful because if he had been there…

Tim instructs Clark on how to cover up the scene, removing the cars and getting Bruce to the cave.

Dick is freaking out, worrying over his brothers ripped clothes and Bruce’s clear injuries, but Tim is quiet.

He takes Bruce’s medical cot and leads them both into a containment cell and then seals it, implementing his own lock as well as one of Bruce’s so no one can open it. He can hear someone banging on the glass a few times but he ignores it to stand over his father’s side and wait for him to wake up.

Naturally, when the older man does he’s panicked and screening Tim’s name.

Tim smiles at him sadly before taking hold of his hand, which Bruce immediately process as wrong.

“Why aren’t I dead?”

Smile growing sadder before fading to an almost formal look, Tim squeezed his hand before pulling away.

“I know you’ve had your suspicions and I thank you for trusting me regardless, but you are right. I’m not human Bruce, and now… you aren’t either.”

He lets the worlds settle for just a moment before continuing, knowing the other will want all the information he can. They’re both so similar in that way.

“I was born a vampire, I will always be a vampire. I will explain that all to you soon, but what you need to know is this: you do not need to drink human blood, you will not loose control over your thirst if you allow me to train you, and yes I had no choice. Gotham needs Batman and I-… I need my father. I will not apologise for my selfishness, but I am sorry you have to be like me.”

Bruce is quiet but he doesn’t move to kick Tim out, nor does he shout at him or cry in betrayal.

He’s surprised, but not more than Tim had ever seen before.

It’s almost an hour of silence between them before Bruce speaks again, “You… you are actually nineteen?”

Tim scoffs and Bruce glares, which makes Tim smile more, “I am. My body will age until around twenty five, at least that’s my hypothesis. If you are turned you stay the age you were, but I was born.”

Bruce nods and after a moment reaches out for his son’s hand.

Another silence before he squeezes it, “Have you told the others about… this change?”

Tim winces, “I tried to keep us separated because I knew you would worry for hurting someone, but I knew Damian would break in if he couldn’t listen so…”

“Ah. Understood.”

Then, in another rare instance that Tim thought he wouldn’t see for at least another few years, Bruce opens his arms to him for a hug.

Naturally, Tim crumbles into his father’s arms and sobs louder than a war drum.

Bruce kisses his head and holds him tight, a vampire embrace.

#batfam #tim drake #bat family #dc comics #batfamily #dc universe #dc #tim drake is red robin #tim drake is a menace #Bruce Wayne #batman and robin #batman #Batman and red Robin #damian wayne #vampire tim drake #vampire Bruce Wayne #vampire batman #vampire au

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secriden · 2 days ago

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So I made a post theorising about Style before episode 1 dropped and I'm both pleased by how much I got right and enamoured by all the extra details we have about Style in this episode.

Style is so obnoxiously overconfident and full of undeserved swagger that it somehow flips around to being winsome. He's the very definition of "empty-headed" but in a way that makes him innocent and guileless.

Narratively he functions as a bit of a foil to Bison because they are both impulsive and naive and blunt, but where Bison's past is steeped in blood and deception and it feels like he's got tricks up his sleeve, Style is an almost painfully open book. This also stands in contrast to Kant who seems very capable of manipulation.

And while he's nearly annoyingly self-assured, who can blame him; I mean look at him. Pretty boy is so fucking pretty. I bet he rocks up to the club, leans with his back against the bar so his shirt rides up, and immediately has 3 drinks being offered to him.

I'm so glad the show makes it clear that Style was flirting with Fadel well before the deal with Kant. It both establishes how genuine his interest in Fadel is, whilst also telling us that the unhinged behaviour was all Style - he didn't need any incentive to pull the "my nipples are sensitive" line.

I also love how he's demonstratively SO BAD at flirting! At the diner, its clear he's just trying things out to see if anything will stick. He's dressed to make himself alluring: arms and side bared in that loose tank top, and he keeps making these big gestures that show his arms off. (I wonder if he drinks as much as he does partly because he starts to get nervous when nothing seems to be working. xD)

All this is good, though, specifically because Fadel would probably see more sophisticated moves as deception. Instead, I think Style's unpolished and unpredictable flirting winds up being accidentally effective because it leaves Fadel feeling unmoored.

Fadel, who is so in control of his life; who (thinks he) knows exactly what he wants and how to get it. Style makes him feel things he probably hasn't in a while. Attraction, embarrassment; but also, anger and violence. His little dramatic knife-clench moment is such a contrast to the calm, clinical way he assassinates the mob boss and I think it shows that Fadel feels his lack of control around Style - and that frightens him a little.

I like how the show signposts the ways both characters are going to have to grow as people for them to be in a relationship: Style needs to learn how to take things more seriously, to mature and temper that arrogance, and slow down and read the room/people better; Fadel needs to allow himself to let go sometimes, to have some fun for once, to face and accept the reality of his own emotions.

They both have to learn how to love and be loved, and its fascinating how ideally suited they are to teach each other these things.

And in the mean time, well, the chemistry is undeniably electric.

#the heart killers #the heart killers the series #thk meta #fadelstyle #style #fadel #style is nearly everything i wanted for this character #and dunk is doing an amazing job of portraying the balance between genuine confidence and annoying swagger #i'm intrigued about his dynamic with his dad and how that will play into things later (if it does at all)#style is the most Unserious because he balances out all the weight of the other 3 characters #yes he's the comic relief and in a show about murder and deception and betrayal he's very necessary esp for the genre we're in #all the other characters are playing 4D chess and style is just here like: so we're here to play Uno right?? ^_^#it became about fadelstyle at the end but i really do just adore style as a character in his own right too #joongdunk #dunk natachai #rambles about shows i'm watching #<my posts>

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wannabanauthor · 2 days ago

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Tim Minear, here's a hint for you:

For BuckTommy, you don't even have to get them back together as a couple immediately.

You can bring Tommy back to give Buck some closure, and Buck can suggest they just be friends because he misses Tommy's company.

So they still hang out with each other and Eddie, and Buck finally feels ready to start dating again. He doesn't mention it to Tommy, but maybe one day someone lets something slip about Buck going on a great date with this amazing guy, and Tommy overhears it.

Since he broke up with Buck, he knows he can't really question Buck about it, but it still irks him for the very obvious reason that he's still in love with Buck but doesn't think it's fair to ask for a second chance after breaking Buck's heart.

But the slight twist is that Buck is genuine friends with the new guy he's dating, and they like to sleep together on occasion, but it's not an actual romantic relationship. Neither one of them are looking for something serious, but they enjoy each other's company. However, that's their own private business, so Buck hasn't told anyone else the details of his situation. He just allows everyone to believe he's dating.

He knows Tommy will find out eventually, but he doesn't want to tell him or bring it up because it'd be awkward.

Tommy is noticeably irritated and a little curt with Buck on the inside, but he maintains his mask perfectly so that Buck never catches on.

Until one night, they're about to leave for a movie, but Buck's "friend" calls and Buck has to cancel his plans with Tommy.

Tommy leaves, very upset and irritated, but he doesn't even make it to his car before he turns around goes back up to Buck's loft. He knows that nothing is official with Buck's friend, so he knocks on the door, and Buck answers it.

Tommy kisses him hard and closes the door behind him. Buck is in shock, much like the first time Tommy kissed Buck.

Tommy then just lets it all out. He tells Buck that he loves him and misses him, and he hates himself for ending things the way they did and for breaking both of their hearts. He says he thought he could handle Buck dating again, but he can't. He's still in love with him and wants him back. He's willing to do anything: seek counseling, starting over, even moving in with Buck on a trial run basis.

Buck starts crying and releases all the emotions/thoughts he's had/felt since Tommy broke up with him. He's angry, rightfully so, that Tommy hurt him and that it took seeing another man in Buck's life for Tommy to make a move. He asks why Tommy waited until now to really say anything. He talks extensively of all the ways Tommy hurt him when they broke up.

Then his final questions for Tommy are "Why now? Why are you willing to make an effort now and not months ago? Do you actually see a future with me? Or are you scared of being alone if I move on?"

Tommy confesses that he's always wanted a future with Buck, but he's scared of getting hurt again. But he acknowledges that Buck is not at fault for the way past partners have treated him, and he should have stayed and talked things over with Buck instead of ending things and walking away.

Buck kisses Tommy and says he misses him and loves him too. Tommy wipes away Buck's tears and kisses him again and again.

After a few smooches, Buck pulls back and clarifies that he's still angry and hurt over the breakup, but he wants to work through it. Tommy promises not to run away like that again, or at the very least tell Buck when he needs space to think something over before making a decision.

Then they work on their relationship until enough time has passed for them to be happily ever after.

Tim Minear, this storyline alone could last you a couple seasons since Tommy is a guest recurring character.

I'm throwing you a lifeline here, so take it and make something with it. Do what white men are known for and steal this idea and make it yours. Come on, you can do it. Prove to folks that you're not just a mediocre white man who skated by on privilege instead of talent.

Because the queer people of color in this fandom are doing a better job of explaining your mess than you are.

That is all.

#bucktommy #tommy kinard #evan buckley #tim minear #911 abc #911 discourse #do better tim #bucktommy fix it

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thefaithfulnightwriter · 2 days ago

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𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐍𝐀 ~ Chapter One

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 the High Lord of Night Court Rhysand and Y/n meet during cruel dark times. During Amarantha's ruling over Prythian. Finding each other during such a time the two secretly fall deeply in love with one another. Both having a rare bond tethering them together... a mating bond. A bond that they both cherished and held close to their hearts. Though they loved each other dearly there was something that was missing. A missing piece they could feel deep within. It caused the two to grow a longing feeling within. It didn't deter their love for one another. But they just knew there was a blank space in their bond. After so long the two mates finally find the missing piece... another mate.

Pairing - Rhysand x Female!Reader x Feyre Archeron

Universe - pre acotar - acowar [it may go into an au after acowar not sure yet though]

Warnings - Gore, Death, Blood, Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut or Smut NOT Sure Yet, Violence, Language, Abuse, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of SA and SH (but nothing descriptive), War, Things Will Be Changed Sort Of, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Poly. Relationship MxFxM, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Shaking her head she found herself able to wake up. A groan escaped her lips at the pain in her head and the pain that traveled all over her body. But then a whimper escaped her soon after. Opening her eyes slightly she was met with the ground beneath her moving slowly. Her vision was still blurry. She then felt two strong grips on her arms holding her up. Along with cuffs around her wrists and a collar around her neck all connected to chains. She then realized that she was being dragged somewhere. Feeling the ground scraping against her legs.

Opening and closing her eyes rapidly she tried to clear her vision. Once cleared another whimper escaped her as she tried to get away from the two holding her. But it was no use because she was too weak. But a cry escaped her when she felt someone suddenly yank at the metal collar around her neck. Causing her to gasp and cough. It seemed there was someone behind her.

“You better stop. You know Amarantha won’t want a possible new pet to be banged up too much by us. We already did enough when catching her. She’d want to do the rest herself.”

She heard one of the males dragging her say. After he spoke they were all soon laughing at his words. She was now confused and terrified. But hearing the name Amarantha she realized where she might be now… Under the Mountain. A place she dreaded and wanted nothing to do with.

She remembered being in the Spring Court with her family. All of them were getting ready to leave the Court together. Seeing that the Spring Court was being watched more closely than the others by the new cruel ruler of Prythian… Amarantha. Her ruling having been for ten years now. They wanted to get away from the constant searching and persistent eyes. They wanted to stay safe and keep hidden.

They had to stay hidden… well more so herself then anyone. Her family wanted to keep her hidden and out of the public's eye. Being she was something or someone very rare. Someone very rare that hasn’t been seen in many centuries. Something rare but also powerful. And it seemed the people knew as well now. As they dragged her through the dark halls and to a room.

Now closing her eyes, she began to think about it. She could remember what had happened. She was playing with her younger brother Evrin in the forest behind their cottage when her mother and father came running. They had heard that people were coming to take her to Amarantha herself. They wanted to run. But it was too late. Their cottage was raided not long after. Which led her and her father to fight. While her mother and brother ran to hide. As they fought they almost killed her father but she was able to hide him away from them before they could. But as she did at that moment she was captured.

She just hoped that her family were together and safe. Her mother, father, and younger brother. She knew they most likely would be at their meeting point. A meeting point on the edge of Spring Court leading into Summer Court. But it broke her heart just thinking of it. That she wouldn’t be meeting them. Because she was in the hands of Amarantha now.

It caused tears to fall down her cheeks knowing that she was in her hands. She knew how cruel she could be having heard of her through the whispers in the winds. She could hear the cries and prayers to the Mother at times. Then hearing of her from the people in the Spring Court, hearing the rumors and stories. She was scared. No, she was terrified.

She had soon jumped hearing the loud opening of the large doors leading into a vast room. There were many people in the room. As she looked around with tears in her eyes. She saw many with smirks and grins with their gazes on her. But as she looked to the throne in the room there she sat… Amarantha.

Seeing her causes her to shake in fear. She was quick to look at the ground. Not wanting to meet her eyes. But a yelp escaped her when she was thrown roughly onto the floor at her feet. Her chains clicked on the ground. Which caused many to laugh at her pain. On shaking hands she forced herself to sit up.

But she didn’t care about their laughter. At that moment she was too scared. She didn’t look up; she kept her eyes on the ground in front of her. Too scared to look up. It was then she heard everyone quiet and then movement. The clicking of heels moved closer to her. It was then she saw black heels come into her view.

“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing.”

She heard a female speak. She knew that it was Amarantha. She just knew it was her. It caused a whimper to escape her lips as she kept her eyes on the floor. But soon she felt fingers tangle their way into her long hair and then a yelp escaped her. As her head was forced back.

“So, tell me little fairy what is your name?” Amarantha questioned her with a grin. As she ran her fingers from her hair down to her cheek. Then up to her longer than average fae ear that was pointed. A gasp left her lips hearing Amarantha call her ‘little fairy’. This meant she probably knew what and who she was and that scared her even more.

But she kept her mouth shut not wanting to give her name. Which Amarantha didn’t like. She was then grabbing her sensitive ear and pulling harshly. Causing her to cry out. But she didn’t speak her name. Leading Amarantha to raise her hand and slap her harshly against her cheek. So hard she fell to the floor with a sob. It led many to laugh.

“Oh shut up! Now I am only going to ask this once more. And if you don’t answer me I’m going to cut off one of those cute ears you have. So, what is your name?” Amarantha threatened before asking again. Reaching a hand out she was quickly given a sharp dagger. Sitting up again she didn’t know if she should tell her name. She was contemplating if she should. But she seemed to have taken too long because Amarantha was kneeling again. She then had a harsh grip on her ear and began to drag the sharp pointed dagger harshly on her ear.

“Y/n! I - It’s Y/n,” She cried out in pain, her ear now bleeding. She knew it would leave a scar. Amarantha was then letting her ear go and grinned, satisfied with the answer. She still had her eyes on Y/n. Who still had yet to meet her eyes. She didn’t seem to care because her eyes were focused on Y/n. She then muttered, ‘hmmm I wonder’ to herself.

She was then grabbing her cream colored dress and was soon cutting the back of it. A cry was heard from Y/n as she tried to get away. She didn’t want her to see. She had to keep them hidden. But before she could crawl away she was grabbed by the chain on her collar around her neck and pulled closer to Amarantha. Who continued to cut and rip at the back of her dress. As she did, markings were soon revealed and seen. Black lines and curves were marked on her back and the back of her arms. They seemed to be the markings of wings.

“There they are. I guess they were right. A little spy told me that you are a rare powerful creature. A very rare elemental fairy,” Amarantha laughed. But many gasps were heard from the crowd who were looking at her. Seeing the markings on her back. She didn’t know what to do besides trying to hold the front of her dress up.

Trying to keep herself covered. And holding her bleeding ear. As many more tears fell down her soft cheeks. She was supposed to keep what she was a secret. She was supposed to be a secret… but not anymore. Everyone now knew and many more would know. But a whimper escaped her lips at what Amarantha said next.

“But now you're my new pet,” Amarantha taunted with a grin. She chuckled as she grabbed the front of the collar around Y/n’s neck pulling her closer. She tried to pull away again not wanting to be anywhere near her. But it was no use. She wished she could be anywhere else. But she knew she wasn’t going to get what she wished for.

“Get her cleaned up and take her to my guest chambers. Oh and don’t try anything with that magic you have little fairy. Those cuffs and that collar will stop it and it will backfire. You will only be able to use them if I see fit and if I give you permission,” Amarantha demanded as she stood up pushing her away. But still with a grin upon her lips. Soon a guard was walking forward and grabbing her arm and dragged her away once again. As someone a female followed after them. A sob escaped Y/n as he dragged her away.

But there were a pair of violet eyes on her never leaving her. Having felt a pull towards her like no other. Which they knew and understood what it was instantly. They were trying to hide their pain, awe, and shock behind a mask. Trying to hold themselves together and hold back from running to her. Wanting to have her in their arms and to take her far away from this place. But they knew they couldn’t. It took everything in them to keep their emotions in check and hidden to keep their mask in place. Because they just realize they may have found their mate.

Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court just realized he just may have found his mate. And he couldn’t do anything to take her away from this horrible place and that broke his heart.

°˖✧✿✧˖°★°˖✧✿✧˖°

It had been a few days now and she was stuck in a room, a sobbing mess. After a night with Amarantha doing anything she wanted with her. But just thinking about what had happened caused her to let out another sob. As she curled into herself, hugging herself tightly. She wished that she could be anywhere else and that she didn’t have to go through such things. But it had already happened and there was nothing she could do. And she knew it would happen again and it pained her.

She soon saw flashes of moments of what happened. Feeling Amarantha’s hands on her and more. Seeing the marks she had left on her skin. She was then sitting up quickly. She then started pulling harshly at the cuffs that were still on her and the collar.

She remembers trying to use her magic while Amarantha touched her. But all it did was inflict pain on herself and made Amarantha laugh at her attempts. Before she threatened to search for her family and end them if she didn’t stop. Which led her to stop fighting and to let her do as she pleased and did as she was told. Not wanting anything to happen to her family. She would make sure nothing happened to them.

Another cry escaped her lips as she made an attempt to use her magic. But all it did was inflict pain on herself. Right now it took to burning her skin. Crying at the pain and memories. She didn’t know what to do besides keep pulling at the cuffs. As she kept using her magic not caring if it hurt her. Not caring if it left marks on her skin. She didn’t care. She just wanted them off and to be somewhere else. She wanted to be with her family. She didn’t want any of this. And at that moment she was so lost that she didn’t realize that someone had entered the room. Opening the door quietly sneaking into the room. But seeing her they were quick to move to her.

She jumped when strong large hands came into view and grabbed hers. Careful of the cuffs on her wrists digging into her now damaged skin. Making sure not to touch them. But quickly stopping her from pulling at the cuffs on her wrists and from using her magic. A cry escaped her once again as she tried to pull away. But they kept a gentle but firm grip on her. As she looked at the one who stopped her she gasped just as they did.

Her eyes clashed with violet ones.

Both looked perplexed at each other. Because as soon as their eyes met unexpectedly a golden bond formed slightly stronger between the two. That was now noticeable to the two. A rare bond that they could feel in their chest… a mating bond. But looking at him taking him in, she knew who he was instantly.

He was Rhysand the High Lord of Night Court. He was truly handsome. The stories and rumors didn’t do him justice. But as she looked at him he looked at her with awe. Yes, he knew she was probably his mate a few days ago. But now he knew it for sure… she was his mate. And he couldn’t help but look at her in awe. He couldn’t believe he really found her.

Y/n though was stuck in thought. Having remembered hearing the rumors about him. And she didn’t know what to think. She didn’t even know what to say. She was frozen with her gaze on him. He was her mate. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know if she wanted to wrap her arms around him or pull away. But she soon shook her shocked state away when he let her go gently. Not wanting to overwhelm her anymore than what she already was. He didn’t want to do that to her.

“Sorry. You were… hurting yourself. I - you shouldn’t do that,” Rhysand said after clearing his throat. After stumbling over his words slightly. His eyes still on her taking her in. She was gorgeous. But taking in her state and the scent lingering in the room he knew what had happened. He knew what Amarantha had done to her, his mate.

It led him to clench his jaw in anger. It was such a strong emotion that washed over him. Which caused her to flinch feeling such a thing through their new bond that they shared together. But she shook it off seeing Rhysand send her a small smile that said ‘sorry’. She after a moment couldn’t help but look at him and say it. Still in a state of shock that he was her mate. She couldn’t help but voice it.

“You’re m - my mate,” she whispered, afraid to say it louder. More so stating a fact then asking. Not taking her eyes off of him. She couldn’t believe she had just found her mate. Nor could she believe that he was the High Lord of Night Court. And now as she looked at him he didn’t seem like the one from the rumors she had heard from people. He seemed kind, vulnerable even as he looked at her. But she soon remembered what the winds had whispered to her about him. She watched as a small smile washed over Rhysand hearing her say such a thing.

“Yes I am. But can you come with me, my flower? If you want,” Rhysand cooed. Reaching out a hand for her to take. Waiting for her to reach and take his hand in hers. Giving her the choice to come with him. Looking from him to his hand she was hesitant. But after a few seconds she shakingly grabbed it. She didn’t know where he was taking her. But part of her wanted to follow him, her mate. She thought he wouldn’t hurt her right. So she did follow after him. As she kept a close watch on the bond they shared. Taking notice of slight emotions flowing to her from him. Shakingly she began to crawl her way out of the bed.

As she got off the bed she almost fell but Rhysand was quick to catch her by her waist. Keeping the blanket in place that covered her bare body. Sending her a smile before removing his hands from her waist but kept a hold of her hand. He then began leading her to a door that led to a bathroom.

When they entered the room, Rhysand moved her to stand near the sink. As she stood she watched him move so gracefully and with purpose. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of him. She watched as he filled the large tub with warm water then added oils and what not. And after he was done she then watched as he held out a hand for her. Looking at his hand she took it again. He then moved her to the tub and took a step back.

“I will be out in the room if you need me. So we can talk when you are done. Take as long as you need. I will wait,” Rhysand informed her, about to leave the room wanting to give her privacy. But before he could turn and leave she stopped him. Keeping a firm grip on his hand. Leading him to look at her with a slight tilt of his head with curiosity. It was then he saw she now had a fearful look upon her face as she looked up at him.

“You’ll actually stay right? You promise,” she asked softly but with a shaky voice. As she kept her gaze on him, her eyes never leaving his. She didn’t want him to leave her. Not after she just found out that he was her mate. She didn’t know exactly how she felt about it. But she just didn’t want to lose him so soon. A part of her wanted him close and near. She just wanted her mate. Seeing her look at him in such a way caused him to send her a small meaningful smile.

“I promise I won’t leave you. There are things we need to discuss. Plus I just found you… I’m not leaving your side unless I need or have to,” Rhysand soothed. Bringing her hand closer to him he pulled her hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon it. Careful of the cuff still around her wrist that no longer had chains connected to them as they did when she first came. As he did such a gesture he sent reassurance to her through the bond. Which led her to sigh in relief.

Nodding, she watched as he released her hand gently and left the room. Giving her privacy as he closed the door gently behind him. Sighing again she turned to the warm steaming bath. Taking in the scent and bath caused a small smile to wash over her. Thinking he did such a thing for her. She shook it away and allowed the blanket to drop and stepped into the bath.

As she sat and started to clean herself. She began to think about her mate… Rhysand. Many thoughts came to her mind. Remembering what she had heard from the winds about him. Then hearing the rumors that fae said about him. A sigh escaped her lips not knowing what to think of him. But then a thought came to her mind causing her to freeze.

Would he even truly accept her as his mate or reject her? Thinking it caused a soft gasp to escape her lips. Before worry filled her. Would she survive such a thing… rejection? Would she survive him not wanting her as his mate? Taking a deep breath she soon released a tired breath. Before hugging her legs to her chest and leaning her head on her knees. Closing her eyes she took deep breaths trying to keep her tears at bay. Then another thought came to her mind.

How were they even going to go about this bond in such a place if they were to accept each other as mates? If they did they would most likely have to keep it hidden. And soon many more things came to her mind. Hitting her like a crashing wave in the ocean almost drowning her in the depths of dark waters.

Many bad and horrifying thoughts washed over her mind. But she was quick to try and shake her head. She tried to calm herself but found it hard. That is until she felt reassurance flow to her. Starting from her chest and flowing throughout her body. She knew it must have been Rhysand through the bond she has yet to really fully grasp. She couldn’t help the small smile that now washed over her. It caused her to sigh again before she started to wash herself once again.

In that moment she stopped her motions as she remembered one of the things her mother always says to her.

“Take one step at a time. Take it minute by minute, day by day. We have long lives ahead of us. There’s nothing wrong with taking your time with certain things. So there’s no need to worry so much all at once.”

She remembered her mother saying to her once. And repeating such a thing on more than one occasion. It caused her to smile thinking of her mother. It felt like forever since she last saw her mother. She just hopes that her family is safe after everything. She then shook the thought away trying not to overthink about them. Not wanting to sink into such worry and thoughts.

After she was done washing she soon made her way out of the bath. Grabbing the towel that was already out. Drying herself off, she looked at the mirror to find herself staring back at her. Her eyes didn’t have their usual bright glow. Her skin was paler without having a certain glow. Her body was littered with marks and scratches. Then there were the collar and cuffs on her that were very noticeable. She could see the red marks that were under them.

But she was quick to turn and move her long hair over her shoulder to look at her back and arms. The black lines and curves and marks were still there and intact… her wings. They were still there. But there were a few marks causing her to sigh. Her back was and always would be sensitive along with her long pointed ears. Which led her to reach to her ear that now had a long scar on it. She didn’t like it but she would have to live with it. She would have to live with everything causing her to sigh in defeat.

Shaking her head of such thoughts. She soon tightened her grip on her towel around her frame. Looking at the sink she found a dress neatly folded with undergarments. She wondered when they appeared but didn’t think much of it. Knowing Rhysand must have used his magic to make them appear for her. It made a light blush appear over her cheeks thinking of it, about him.

But she didn’t linger on the thought long. Not wanting to go down that path. Not yet anyway. Not without talking to him first. To see where they stand. Reaching out she was quick to put on the clothing and then made her way to the door. But she stopped in front of it for a moment.

Listening, she could hear the flipping of pages and the sound of a soft heartbeat that seemed to quicken sometimes. She knew who it was… Rhysand, her mate. She could feel how close he was through the bond they shared. With the mating bond they share she didn’t know what was going to happen between them. All she could do was hope that all would go well. Soon she was gathering up the little courage she had. She then took a deep breath and opened the door. So she could face what was to come with her now having a mate.

Lacuna Taglist -

ladespedidas

daughterofthemoons-stuff

#rhysand reader #rhysand x reader #rhysand x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x oc #thefaithfulnightwriter #rhysand x you #feyre x oc #feyre x reader #feyre archeron #feyre x rhysand #feysand x oc #feysand x reader

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paingoes · 3 days ago

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Rubies - Trial IV

hiiii. long time no see. wrapping up the trial now! this one is pretty light-hearted ❤️‍🩹

(Content: living weapon whumpee, implied past abuse, past captivity, dehumanization, crying, guilt, comfort, fluff)

“That was cruel,” Kitty hissed, all her hair standing on end, with the edge of a hiss on her voice. “That was torture.”

Silas sat gloomily in the chair beside her, nursing his black eye.

“It was hokey,” he said with a tsk, “Did you really think I was going for sentimentality? If I wanted to press on old wounds, you would know it.”

“Bastard,” Kitty whispered as her eyes narrowed into slits.

Levon leaned forward in the desk chair as if he thought he might have to split them up again. He shot her a warning look.

“It did not seem calculated to me,” Levon admitted, choosing each word carefully. “I personally think torture is too strong a word for it. But the effect was the same.“

“The effect? Crying, running out? The effect was that he won the fucking trial. I gave it to you on a silver platter,” he said disdainfully.

Levon tilted his hand at the wrist. Eh. He didn’t argue the point.

“It was cruel,” Kitty repeated, “You said you’d make it painless.”

“As painless as I could, kitten. I can’t take away what he’s done. No one can.”

“You didn’t have to make him feel worse.”

“It wasn’t about him,” Silas cut in, “This isn’t a personality trial. All it’s ever been about is safety. The council deserves to know what he’s done — what he’s still capable of.”

“He only did it because he was forced. He’s not going to do it again. You know he’s not going to.” She looked skittishly between the two men now, as if she’d felt the ground shift beneath her. Levon’s expression was unreadable, impartial. He left the two of them to their own devices. Silas filled in the empty space.

“We know that? Why? Because he’s quiet? Because he’s polite? All you have to bank on is good will. He’s docile now because they beat it into him. Where do you think he’s going to be once all that brainwashing wears off? Wouldn’t you be mad, if that happened to you?”

Silas poked at the wound showing on the side of her psyche. She only glared back.

“I know I would be,” he answered himself. “I would be furious.”

“Is she going to get in trouble for that?” Delta asked quietly as he sorted through the remaining gauges. He arranged them carefully into their preassigned bins without error.

“Nah,” Apollo shook his head. “It was a legal move. They both had PVP enabled.”

“What?”

Apollo shrugged as he pulled the vinyl pin out from his pocket. There was a dial attached at the bottom end. It only had two settings — ON and OFF.

“Mutual combat laws. As long as they both had theirs set to ON, it’s fair game.”

Delta blinked slowly before he returned his attention back to the color-coded bins.

“I don’t want him to hurt because of me,” he admitted quietly. It was a big deal for him — an admission, any expression of want.

The lab was empty and immaculate but for them and Apollo suspected they both found a kind of calm in that. He liked to keep Delta occupied with the busywork whenever he could, watching as the high bounds of tension melted away into an easy concentration. It wasn’t working so well this time. He could tell Delta had been bothered by the violence. With one hand, he switched his own pin to OFF.

“She won’t do it again,” he promised. He was sure of it. There’d be no need for it anymore. Not here.

The screen flickered on and off, lagged and buffered, left the voices distorted. On the other end, Iza stood bundled up upon the rocky beach. Her red hair stuck out from beneath her woolen hat. In the pale distance beyond her, black birds made great arcs above the water.

Back in the conference room, the atmosphere was bustling, more jovial than it had been all throughout the trial. The air buzzed with a palpable relief. The end was near.

Delta was still quiet, his eyes downcast. In spite of his reservations, he kept his hand wrapped loosely around Kitty’s arm, still desperate for any support she could give. Silas had hit her hard in the sternum during their scuffle. It’d knocked her back hard, but she had no wounds to show for it now. Silas sat across from them at the table, arms crossed, disinterested. All he had to give were closing remarks.

The projector filled with black as a new person joined the call — camera off, mic muted.

“Hi Lun,” Apollo called instantly. “I love you.”

He’d been relieved of his medical duties, just for today. On the screen, a small “❤️” appeared in the chat box. Apollo grinned.

Iza’s image pixelated and then re-rendered itself. For a minute, all there was were cool colors in stripes against the screen. She cursed as she messed with the camera, then gradually materialized came back into plain view. Her gaze was icy, as cold as it must’ve been on the beach. Her breath came like puffs of steam against the frozen air.

“There’s a reason they recruit young. Psychic power tends to reach its apex around the age of twenty — or the equivalent age, for most species. What you’re going to see is a gradual falloff of psychic potency following that. And Delta, correct me if I’m wrong, but weren’t you getting doped the entire time?”

“…That’s correct.” Delta confirmed. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. It’d become so routine, he almost forgot about the pills. Amidst all the other pains in his body and the remnants of illness, he couldn’t tell which symptoms were withdrawal and which were just heartbreak.

“Right. If you test him right now, he’s already going to chart lower than he did when he was picked up. That number is only gonna go down from her-“

She ducked, grunting. A small, dark shape dove into the frame. She flew her hands up over her head to protect herself, then swung her fists out at it. It pecked at her hat a final time before retreating.

“Sorry,” she coughed, “Getting fucking- swooped on- um. Yeah. It’s not going to be an ongoing security issue, is what I mean. The threat’s gonna dwindle.”

Iza flinched and waved at the air again, though nothing was around her this time. She sighed in disgust.

“And I’ll say, for character reference, he was very well-behaved when I was with him.”

Apollo tensed at his side, and Delta could tell he hadn’t liked that. He found himself blushing anyway. It was kind of nice when people recognized how hard he was trying. It was a respite from the constant torrent of ungrateful, awful, disrespectful, that played in his head these days.

Levon hummed a little, bouncing his palm off the edge of the chair. He hadn’t sat down once for the entire trial.

“Thank you, Iza. Can we hear from Lun, on the espionage front? Anything emergent?”

The counsel waited a while in hushed silence. Eventually, a message flashed onto the screen.

“💀”

“Presumed dead,” Levon filled in the blank.

“That seems a bit ambiguous,” Silas objected.

“Is he presumed dead, Lun?”

“👍”

“Is anyone looking for him, to your knowledge?”

“❌”

Silas grumbled, “It’s like a fucking oujia board.”

“I’m satisfied,” Levon shrugged. “Any further comments?”

“Hey, Levon, when can I come ba-“

“Thank you, Iza. Goodbye.”

The call ended as quickly as it could. The gradient blue-green wallpaper filled up the space of the projector. He ran his hand through his hair.

“I’m satisfied,” he repeated. “If there’s no objections, we can put this to a vote right now.”

Delta could not bring himself to look. Nobody objected.

“Out of the room,” Levon told him.

Delta stood up immediately, sensing just from the tone that it was an order for him. Kitty followed him out, placing one hand gently on his shoulder to guide him. She held the door open for him. Apollo trailed quietly behind them, pausing only to glare back at Levon, as if that silent threat counted for anything at all.

In the end, it was unanimous.

One year of probation.

That was all.

He cried in his room all day. Levon had helped him to clean it up the first time he’d destroyed it, but none of the broken furniture had been replaced. He must’ve known it wouldn’t be necessary anymore. The new room wouldn’t lock from the outside. Delta would be allowed to leave it.

He would be allowed to leave base, if he wanted to. If he thought he was ready.

The conditions of the probation were as follows:

No usage of powers registering over 5000 psi

No death or injury to others, unless in self defense

Remain collared at all times, unless given explicit permission to remove it

He could not believe he was getting off so easily.

“I thought you’d be happy,” Levon said, half-joking as he passed another tissue over.

He didn’t know. It wasn’t fair.

It was easier when it wasn’t up to him. This was the only way he could rationalize it. They had more reason than anyone else to punish him for it — and they hadn’t. He had to accept it as gracefully as if they had.

He sobbed harder, pressing his forehead against his knees.

“You’ll be alright.” Levon promised. What a tall order.

“I’m sorry,” Delta mumbled, for a thousand reasons, to no one in particular.

“I know.”

Delta blinked the glitter out of his eyes as the confetti exploded in his face.

“Surprise!” Kitty cheered. The word was half-formed around the mouthpiece of the noisemaker.

He blinked again.

“It’s the Not Guilty Cake. For the Not-Guilty Party.” She explained, moving both hands in large sweeps over the confectionery. On the cake, in large pink script against the sheet-pan background, it read: “NOT GUILTY!!!! :3c”. Red hearts floated around the edges.

“It’s birthday cake flavored,” she said, “To match the confetti.”

“We wanted it to be thematically cohesive,” Apollo explained. He wore the orange party hat directly over the chain of his headpiece.

Delta covered his mouth. He had smiled, despite himself, and he still felt the need to hide it. It still felt too forbidden.

“Sorry,” he said, not keeping the grin out of his voice. “That’s really funny. I’m sorry I can’t show emotions like a normal person. Um. This is really nice.”

“Oh my god,” Apollo leaned forward with sudden urgency, “Are you laughing?”

Delta turned away, way too desperate to hide it.

“He is,” Apollo said in hushed awe. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry,” Delta said, smiling wider. “I’m really tired.”

He was, too. He was almost delirious. Kitty was laughing too, louder than he was, unmasked. It sounded so natural on her. He wiped at his eyes, almost choking. It was all so much.

“Do you wanna try it?” Apollo urged him to eat, “You don’t have to if you don’t like it.”

“We can bake a new one if you don’t. It won’t be a surprise, though.” Kitty tried to readjust the party hat to fit comfortably in between her ears, then seemed to give up.

“Okay,” Delta agreed quietly. His face was still half-hidden by his hands, embarrassed by all of it. He have never said he didn’t like it. He didn’t want to be ungrateful.

But when he did try it, he was surprised at how sweet it was.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @dietofwormsofficial @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

@jumpywhumpywriter

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waynes-multiverse · 3 days ago

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Polaris – Chapter 8

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

Pairing: Beau Arlen x FBI Agent!Reader

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

Word Count: 5.5k

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

Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Tag List

Chapter 8: Chemical Bonds

“Where is she?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 2020

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

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

Oh, and there was the crying, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Vamos a domir a tu casa esta noche.’

‘¿Qué?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh-huh. Un remolque.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Smart choice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Confused, your brow furrowed. “About what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

January 2021

“¡Feliz navidad!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No one’s!”

“What, you think I’m some alcoholic?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Twenty-five.

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

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

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

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

It only took you a glimpse to die inside.

“Oh God…”

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 9: Marooned – NOVEMBER 29

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

So happy to be back with y'all! 🤍

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

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#polaris #beau arlen #beau arlen x reader #beau arlen x female reader #beau arlen x you #beau arlen reader insert #beau arlen fanfic #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles characters

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inquisimail · 2 days ago

Text

dai love interests' letters to the inquisitor in veilguard, if anyone was curious to see them. transcriptions in alt text & under cut

Amatus,

I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear.

I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you.

I will find you soon.

Yours, Dorian

---

My love,

You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side.

Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations.

Yours always, Thom

---

My love,

We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe.

The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can.

The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray.

Yours, Cassandra

---

Hey, Kadan,

Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!)

I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian.

Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to be just what I want to be.

And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you.

So come back safe.

Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

---

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.)

Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.")

North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker.

Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know.

We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow.

So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls!

We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.)

Still thinking of you sideways.

Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.)

The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out.

Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me.

I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why.

Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.)

You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on.

(The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.)

New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

---

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences too chewed to read.

I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible.

I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you're all right. You are— I've— There's— I wish that I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life.

The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my—I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this—

Whatever you need of me, I am yours.

Cullen

---

My Dearest Lady, / My Dearest Lord,

I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all.

The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together.

There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here.

When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes.

Always yours, Josephine

Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

#dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age veilguard spoilers #datvmining #<- new tag for these

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tinfoil-jones · 3 days ago

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Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch. 15

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here

First - Prev - Next

“Hey F, could I get some of that dip? Someone threw all of my cans of Snus away when he confiscated my stuff.”

“Sure thang, handsome. Oh- you sure you need that much Stan? You’ve cold-turkey’d nicotine for weeks now.”

“I’ll be fine, stretch. It’s not like I haven’t done worse for less.”

(...)

“Fiddleford, is there a particular reason Stanley is under the table in the recovery position?”

“He tried too much chew all at once, he’s got the nic-sick.”

“Stanley, I told you that you needed to quit that nasty habit! This is precisely why I threw your tobacco products away when you came here.”

“Y’know this headache was bad enough without you yelling at me.”

“I cannot believe you enabled him.”

“Stanford, he's a grown man, he’s allowed to use nicotine if he wants to.”

“He can still hear you. And you know what? I don’t think you ever need to bitch at me about it ever again, Doc. I’m not touching the stuff again for a long time…”

“It’s for your own good.”

“PhD, next time you think about saying that I want you to remember I’m not above hitting a guy with glasses.”

(...)

“Stan, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven going on twenty-eight.”

“Do you remember when your birthday is?”

“Not the date, no. I know it’s late spring or early summer.”

“And I know your memories are hazy, but did you ever… celebrate it?”

“I think the last time I did was before I was on the streets. After that? There wasn’t a point, I was alone. Why do ya need to know, F?”

“I’m just checking is all.”

(...)

“Stanford, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“When is your birthday?”

“June 15th.”

“And if I remember correctly from BMU, you never celebrate it?”

“Last time I did I was seventeen.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“I told you back then Fiddleford, I did not see a point, I was-...”

“Used to sharing it?”

“Why?”

“I’m just checking is all.”

(...)

“So each of these is supposed to be your, what, doctors cert?”

“Doctoral degree, and yes.”

“So you have a dozen of them?”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Twelve whole PhDs? That’s pretty cool.”

“...You really think so?”

“Yeah, most people don’t even got one - but you got one for each finger huh?”

“That’s not why I-. Well, yes, I suppose I do.”

“Stanford! Stan! I’m back, come over to the kitchen!”

“Do ya know what he left for?”

“He did not say.”

“Why’d he turn out the ligh-.”

“Surprise!”

*Stan and Ford stop at the entryway to the kitchen. Fiddleford is standing next to the table, which has a sheet cake and twenty-eight lit candles*

“...”

“Fiddleford, what is this?”

“I know you said you don’t see a point to your birthday, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“Oh, it’s your birthday?”

“...Stanley. It’s not just my birthday.”

“Are you okay Stan? You’re looking spooked. I apologize if I put you on the spot-”

“N-No. I’m fine. It’s uhh- I don’t even know when my birthday is.”

“It’s today. We’re twins.”

“...”

“You still don’t believe-.”

“Wouldn’t, you know, the other guy, be upset?”

“There is no ‘other guy’, it’s literally you.”

“I’m- I don’t… I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Stanley, I understand you’ve stubbornly held onto the belief that I’m insane and trying to replace something I’ve lost-”

“The cake’s getting covered in wax here, fellers.”

“But I haven’t celebrated my birthday in a long time, because I’m used to sharing it. I am not trying to force you to, but I’m requesting you let me share it with you; I want to share it with you.”

“...Fuck it, I said I’d play along with your delusions until you got over it. Okay, PhD, I accept your offer. But I’m taking all of the corner pieces of the cake.”

“I can accept those terms.”

“Okay you two, I don’t think we got enough time to sing the happy birthday song before the candles melt themselves outta their wicks. So just blow ‘em out and make your wishes.”

(...)

“Hello, Dr. Stanford Pines speaking.”

“Stanford?”

“Hey Ma.”

“Happy birthday hon.”

“Thanks Ma.”

“Please tell me you celebrated your birthday this year. I know your last one couldn’t have been easy after-”

“I was busy with research last year. This year, yes I celebrated, I have… Company, this time.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Listen hon, I know it hasn’t been easy without Stanley since… the accident.”

“I’ve had more than enough time to think about it. I am not going to lie to you and say I’m not upset at all, but it’s been long enough that I have other things to concern myself with.”

“I just want you to know if things get too hard, don’t be afraid to talk to your old Ma again.”

“...I’ll keep that in mind.”

“I love you, Stanford.”

“I love you too, Ma.”

To be continued…

#for your own good #early amnesia au #mystery trio #he did it guys he said the title #Stan calling Ford anything but his name #gravity falls #cross posted on ao3 #fanfic #fanfiction #stanley pines #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #fiddleford mcgucket #fiddlestan #caryn romanoff pines #caryn pines

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ren-144p · 1 day ago

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Seconding started with a pin with my whole chest!! That one is SO dear to my heart. Below a few personal favorites to add to the list. Please mind the tags on these :) As mentioned, early Zaundads fandom skewed dark and messy.

the last drop / what was and wasn’t and silco and vander / tales of a knife by revelisms

Last Chance by Blue_Daddys_Girl

There's only one way their story ends, Silco knows. Yet still in their last moment alone together—their first in so many years—he offers Vander one last chance.

it is snowdown by zevlore

It is Snowdown in the undercity, and the snow is soft and grey and slushy, and she is uncomfortable in her skin. Four vignettes into Vander's life.

hit count by ducky (conscious_mess)

An attempt to flesh out their backstory. (Relationship breakdown drabble that got out of hand. Still counts as drabble because they "become sodden by movement through muddy water", so ~nnnyehh~)

Silt Verses by JeanLuciferGohard

Pump 47 is failing. It’s water to their waists now, slick with Fissure-filth and sucking grime. Vander huffs shakily, squinting up the mineshaft like anyone’s coming. “Never thought it’d be like this.” Silco barks a raw, ugly laugh, head lolling back against the rock. “That was always your problem,” he says, “lack of vision.” You learn a lot about a man when you're both about to die underground. Or: Faith is a young man's game. Silco's old before his time. Character Study.

For enjoyers of more light-hearted things, I remember having a great time with these:

Warmth by BiCaptain

The worst part came when her dads came face to face with each other.

The Fluffiest Little Murder Boyfriend uwu by Fiddlezips

Silco is a Yordle. He stands just taller than Vander's thighs, which is a generous comparison. His fur is short, fluffy around his long ears, and grey beneath the dirt. “Zaun Gray” is how he describes it, and his small mouth twitches into a smirk each time.

And for those looking for Zaundads of more smutty variety:

Cage Match by Zkyfall

Life since Silco moved out has been Hell for Vander. Trying to juggle his job with suddenly being primary caregiver for the girls, all while wrestling with the guilt that maybe the separation is all his fault. The stress is killing him and he doesn’t even have his favorite go-to outlet: fantastic sex with Silco. When Vander sees an ad for an app-controlled cock cage, he's intrigued. Finally a way he can get his submission fix, even without his favorite Dom! What could possibly go wrong?

To break new ground by Rimeko

“Now,” Silco adds, “I don’t want your apologies, but I do want your dick. So can we do just that, or do I have to fucking gag you too?” Ahem. Reconciliation sex? Zaundads bingo event: Edging

i'm breakin' a sweat (i think i need some ventilation) by zevlore

“You,” Silco pants, practically gasping for air as Vander continues his assault on his exposed collarbone, hands deftly sliding the rest of his and Silco’s clothes off, “are insatiable.” Silco's been spending too much time working. Vander convinces him to take a break, among other things.

Locked by IAmANonnieMouse (and the following Denied and Freed)

Vander isn’t that strong. If left unchecked, he’s selfish and insatiable, unable to think of anything but his own pleasure. That’s why he needs someone like Silco to keep him in check. To lock him away and throw away the key.

Useless by Fiddlezips

Silco is used to disappointment. After all, his plans—whenever they involve Vander even a little—do have a tendency to fall through.

Unfortunately back in the day I was not utilizing AO3's bookmarks nearly enough so I know I am missing a ton of good ones. New folks should absolutely go out and explore the Silco/Vander tag on their own because I remember there were a lot of incredible fics around these past few years!

Either way, happy reading! It's nice to see the ship getting traction again :)

Anybody want to create a quick quintessential Zaundads fanfic rec list?

I was away for a long time between seasons, so I probably missed a ton but those are some of the longer/meatier ones I remember, particularly one of the more fix-it category.

While the World Turns Around by Blue_Daddys_Girl

In a chance meeting Vander sees Silco for the first time since the fateful day he's come to regret so deeply. Silco has changed—they both have. Vander can't stop thinking about him.

Reconciliation AU by Rimeko

If the cannery scene went down differently, if Vander got thrown into Stillwater with Vi instead of (maybe) dying, and if Silco eventually got them both freed. What, then? What to do with the ruins of what once was? How to deal with love and betrayal and everything that went down in the meantime, and how to move forward.

Stillwater Marriage by Alishatheninth

AU in which Vander does not insist on having one last pipe, therefore gets out of Benzo's shop before Silco has Deckard kill all the Enforcers. Vander decides there's really little to be lost by simply handing the reins to Silco. Silco has to deal with a slightly different set of challenges, and does so in his own, slightly deranged, way.

started with a pin by bloodinthewine

Silco doesn’t expect to find anything extraordinary when he accompanies his daughter to her first Pride parade. Vander, an infamous and experienced leather daddy, finds him anyway. (or The Leather Daddy AU)

And just some personal favorites of mine that I remember:

underground utopia dynasties and dystopia by leonshardt, which I think is the original prostitute!Silco stories.

Old Griefs and Childrens Faiths by GoddessofRoyalty, an A/B/O story which always made me hope for a parent!trap style story where Powder tries to reunite Silco and Vander

There are some mores that I love, including some smut ones, but everybody please mind that season 1 Zaundad fandom often skewed more dark, messy and angsty.

Anybody else have any favorites? Any other popular fics I missed? If somebody was joining late, what would you recommend to them?

#fic recs #ren.txt

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nick-writes-stuff · 1 day ago

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Coming Home (Lucifer x gn!Reader)

a/n: it's finally here!! hope you guys like it, i'm really happy with this one. the ending still cracks me up a bit lmao

warnings: honestly there really isn't any. this one is definitely a bit lighter than the others i've written. it is implied that Lucifer was angry, and there is a second where reader is assumed to be dead, but there isn't anything actually happening (it'll make sense when you read it lol)

When you arrived back in your time period, you and Solomon had left the portal into the palace. You looked around, eyes widening as you recognized that this was your time.

For the first time ever, you saw a look of shock on Barbatos' face as he entered the room. It seems like your arrival was not apparent to him. He led you both up to Diavolo's office at once.

They asked you some questions, wanting to get as much information from you about your predicament. The entire time you were antsy, bouncing your leg and fidgeting with your hands. You wanted to go to the House of Lamentation so badly. You needed them to know you were okay.

When the questions stopped coming, you asked if you could go to the HoL, but Diavolo's reaction puzzled you. "I don't think that would be the best idea." He said, tactfully choosing his words.

Your face fell. "Did something happen?" You asked, leaning forward with urgency.

"No, no nothing like that. It's just..." the Prince trailed off.

"Mammon decided it would be a good idea to try to pawn one of Lucifer's cursed records to pay off his credit card bills." Barbatos said flatly.

Your eyes widened as you processed the information, but your resolve didn't waver. "I still have to go over there. I can still see the others while the two of them settle things."

You knew that you had experienced worse moments of Lucifer's behavior in the past, you could surely deal with this.

Diavolo nodded and Barbatos opened a portal to the house. You gave a soft word of thanks before tepping through it.

You entered into the living room where the twins were. They immediately perked up at the sight of you. Satan and Asmo heard the portal and wandered down to see what had happened. As you all talked and explained the situation of your return, Levi even came down for a snack run completely unaware of your arrival, being shocked at your return. After a few moments you asked, "Where's Mammom and Lucifer?"

The room went quiet, the five giving each other awkward glances before Satan spoke up. "Mammon is in Lucifer's office getting the lecture of the century."

You winced slightly. "How long has it been?"

"Um, it was before I had my snack before dinner, so maybe 4 hours?" Beel said.

You moved to go up the stairs, to which the others reacted negatively to. "MC do you have a death wish?" Amso asked.

Satan agreed. "Lucifer is more angrier at Mammon than I think he's ever been. It probably wouldn't be safe for you to go up there."

"Relax. I'm not gonna interrupt. I'm just gonna wait for them." You said, rolling your eyes and heading upstairs.

---

It was another 2 hours before Lucifer had decided that Mammon had learned his lesson and could be free from the lecture. Mammon rushed out of the room and down the hall, trying to leave before Lucifer changed his mind. In his haste he didn't even notice you.

It was a few minutes later until Lucifer left his office. He needed to meet Diavolo to discuss student council business. The door creaked open and the eldest was quick to notice your presence.

You were sitting on the floor with your back to the wall. Your head leaned against the side of a cabinet. Your eyes were shut as you had dozed off.

For a second, Lucifer assumed he was seeing things. Maybe he had gone too long without sleeping? Admittedly, he has definitely gone too long without sleeping. Maybe Satan and Belphie had decided to play a cruel prank?

His hesitation only lasted a moment until the avatar of pride was kneeling in front of you. He assumed you were injured somehow, because why else would you be unconscious on the floor. His breath was quickening, fearing the worst. He didn't even know how you were here, but here you were unconscious in front of his door and he hadn't even known.

Lucifer grabbed your shoulder shook you gently, trying not to hurt you. "MC? MC wake up, please-" He started, sounding desperate, but he stopped as your eyes flickered open and you yawned softly.

"You really know how to keep someone waiting." You said, giving him a slight smirk even despite your half-asleep state.

You joking was the only thing he needed to hear. He pulled you into his arms in an instant. You felt him take a deep, shuddering breath as if the weight of the world was no longer on his shoulders (because his world was in his arms)

You wrapped your arms around him, lazily tracing soft circles on his back in an attempt to soothe him.

Once he held you for long enough that he could no longer assume it was a dream or a hallucination, he pulled away and began looking you over. "You aren't hurt are you?" He asked.

You shook your head.

He seemed somewhat puzzled at your response. "Then why are you on the floor?"

"Because I had been waiting out here for a while and I was tired."

"You should have just came in, it would have been-" He began, almost having a light scolding tone to his voice.

"After hearing some of the day's events from Satan and Asmo, sorry, but there was no way I was opening that door." You said with a chuckle. Lucifer knew you were right, but he was still a bit frustrated that you hadn't come sooner.

Lucifer seemed to look you over once again before placing a kiss on your forehead. Your face changed to a lovesick grin, looking up at him. He gave you a slightly confused look, silently questioning your expression.

"I missed you." You said.

Lucifer would never admit to the flurry of butterflies in his stomach, but you could tell from his gaze and the light dusting on pink across his cheeks.

He stood up, offering you his hand. You took it and pulled yourself up to stand with him.

"You know, I just got a wonderful tea blend from Akuzon. Would you like a cup?" He asked as he walked to his room.

You smiled. "Of course." You said matter-of-factly. As if you would ever decline.

He made his way to the electric kettle. Whenever he knew he would have a late night, he tended to keep the kettle on so he could have water ready on demand.

You shut the door and moved over to the couch near the window. You took a deep breath, finally feeling like you were able to relax. You look over to watch Lucifer.

"This is an old favorite of mine. It's been out of stock for a while and when I found it I couldn't resist it." He said with a chuckle. He showed you the box, taking a breath to continue speaking but you cut him off.

"No please! I'm so sick of that one!" You said, voice louder than you meant it to be.

He furrowed his eyebrows and looked at you. His gaze was a mixture of confusion and disbelief. the audacity

You were confused too, almost like you expected him to remember the situation you were referring to. "Ohh okay I forgot that wasn't a recent experience for you." You said in realization.

"MC, what in Diavolo's name are you talking about?"

"That flavor of tea was your old favorite for years back in the past. That's the only flavor of tea I've had in weeks. Please, for the love of everything unholy, make me literally any other blend." You said.

Only you could speak to him that way without consequences. He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he pulled a separate box from the cabinet. One of your favorites. He put the other back, as he realized he hadn't had your favorite since you had disappeared, and he wanted to fully indulge himself in the reality that you had returned.

After drinking the tea, you yawned. He looked over to you. "You should go to sleep." he suggested softly.

You were tempted to just go to his bed without question, but your logic overrides your sleepiness. "You should too."

He chuckled, standing up and walking toward his desk. "Nonsense, MC. I need to go inform Diavolo of your return. I fear I've waited long enough-"

"Solomon and I arrived in the castle. I spoke to Diavolo already." You countered. He paused for a moment.

"When is the last time you had quality sleep?"

He went to answer but hesitated as he realized he didn't know the answer.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him closer to the bed. He relented, getting into the bed beside you. You laid your head on his chest, murmuring a soft "good night" as your eyelids fluttered.

He kissed the top of your head. "Good night, my love." He responded, quickly dozing off due to the company of his beloved.

---

The next morning, you walk down to the kitchen to see Mammon making breakfast. While facing the stove he asked "Whoever you are, can you grab the milk for me?"

You oblige his request, grabbing the bottle and turning towards him as he turns around. He dropped the spatula and audibly gasped.

"You're back?!?! GUYS MC IS BACK!" He yelled.

Belphie was half asleep as he entered the kitchen to get a drink. "Yeah, and? They've been here since last night." He snapped as he looked through the cabinet.

Mammon scoffed. "Ya finally get back to us and you forgot to tell the Great Mammon?? What happened to me being your first man." He said, taking great offense to this.

You were never gonna hear the end of this.

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #om! lucifer

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