#wide eyed in a really profound way

[theloveinc]

rachel zegler is undoubtedly both talented and beautiful but... imma be honest. i don't think she was the right lucy gray </3

[inuyashaluver]

can you do reader is very body conscious but lessi helps her? lyy

you’re beautiful - alessia russo

alessia russo x reader

description: in which your girlfriend wishes you could see yourself the way she does

warnings: self loathing, insecurity, tears, slightly angsty?

a/n: YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND DONT LET ANYONE TELL YOU DIFFERENT, MY LOVES, thank you for the request, love you, i hope this lived up to expectations because im getting in my head again 😭❤️

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you and your girlfriend, alessia, had a love so pure, it was sickeningly sweet.

people may say that the term ‘soulmates’ is overused, but alessia russo was in fact your soulmate.

she was your better half, a true soul connection that is truly authentic and genuinely profound.

this girl had you wrapped around her finger and it was very much mirrored for you. the two of you would do anything for each other, without a second thought clouding your mind.

—

you and alessia met years ago in your youth, forming a close bond with the blonde unexpectedly.

alessia in her younger years was quite shy, finding it hard to put herself out there and make friends. whereas, you on the other hand, were outgoing, always the first person to approach when someone looked like they needed a friend.

and that’s what you did. when you and alessia joined the england youth football team, you watched as alessia, wide eyed and nerve ridden, clutched her training top in her hand, you’d been told to find a partner for warm ups.

and you, with your mischievous grin and kind eyes, walked over to alessia and nudged her with your shoulder. “i’m (y/n)” you whisper, alessia looks over at you in surprise, sending you a grateful smile, “i’m alessia” she whispers back.

“you have beautiful eyes, alessia” you grin, alessia cheeks fill with pink, looking down at the pitch with a little laugh before looking back up at you.

“you have a pretty smile” alessia breathes out, you smile brightly at her, offering her a piece of gum while you conversed, unbeknowingly becoming a part of your routine that lasted for years.

you and alessia navigated the ups and downs of childhood together, forming an unbreakable bond.

the more you talked and hung out, the more you realised how perfect you were for each other. and so, at 17, you and alessia started dating, you, as usual taking the lead that alessia was very grateful for.

“russo, i think it’s time we date” you say simply, causing alessia to choke on air while the two of you walked around the pitch. “what?” she mutters, her cheeks bright pink when you interlaced your fingers together.

“i really like you, lessi,” you say earnestly, giving her a charming smile that made her heart leap out of her chest.

“i really like you too” she breathes out, both of you now looking a little sheepish, giving little squeezes of your hands while you looked at each other.

that’s when alessia closed the gap and pulled you into a kiss, you gasp in surprise against her lips, your hand moving to cradle her cheek as you pulled her closer.

it was a little clumsy at first but you both quickly found a rhythm, feeling familiar yet foreign all at the same time.

alessia’s hand makes its way to your bicep, squeezing it gently and smiling against you. eventually when the two of you pulled apart, you both broke into little fits of giggles, resting your foreheads against each other as your breath intermingled with each other. the promise of forever lingering in the air.

everyone saw how genuine your connection was, you brought out alessia’s confidence, alessia brought out your calm side. a perfect balance working together in harmony. the amount of respect, love and admiration for each other never went unnoticed by the two of you.

—

you had always played at arsenal while alessia played at manchester united, ecstatic when she decided to transfer to be closer to you.

you’d always been a woso couple favourite, the amount of edits under both of your names were insane. it only grew as alessia transferred. but something that grew in small but visible amounts, was hate.

it was inevitable, you were both in the public eye and people could be truly awful when they wanted to be. you tried not to look at it but it was incredibly hard when it was directed at you.

alessia was perfect and you could say that with your chest, and everyone else thought that. so people loved to tell you that you weren’t good enough. you weren’t fit enough.

people claiming you were using the girl even though you both have incredibly successful, established careers that no one could deny.

but it didn’t matter, you were scrutinised by a very tiny amount of people but it had a large impact. you thought you would be used to it by now but these comments for some reason just stuck with you.

you stood in front of the mirror in your shared apartment, suddenly your daily training uniform feeling tight on your body.

no matter how you moved it, it didn’t feel right. your eyes welled with tears as your eyes took in your appearance. you felt awful. you shook it off, making your way to alessia who was currently preparing protein shakes for the car.

you snuck up behind her, wrapping your arms around her middle as your chin rested on her shoulder. she was always a little taller but it didn’t matter.

“hey, babe” alessia grins, leaning back into you, “hi, lessi baby” you kiss her shoulder sweetly. she flipped around in your embrace, kissing your lips gently a couple of times, making you giggle against her. she relishes at the sound, pecking the tip of your nose before ushering you to the car.

she drove with her hand gently squeezing your thigh before you both arrived. you were feeling fine up until then, but as soon as the two of you got into training, you felt off, the comments flashing in your mind.

alessia noticed a change in your behaviour. your usual confident and vibrant self was seemingly preoccupied. you trained with her like normal, giggling and chatting but your smile never fully reached your eyes, alessia knew you better than anyone, she could see you declining.

“hey, you okay?” alessia grabs your hand when you enter the change room after training, pulling you close to her before you tried to walk away.

“yeah, baby, i’m good” you smile, kissing her sweetly, she melts into you, kissing you back with a satisfied hum before she pulled away from you.

“don’t distract me, missy” she chuckles, pinching your cheek teasingly before she wrapped her arms around you.

she pulls you close, tucking your head under her chin as she gently swayed you from side to side. you lean further into her, feeling a lump in your throat growing, desperately hoping you don’t look like you’re going to cry.

“can we go home, please?” you say softly, alessia frowns a little at that, “‘course we can,” kissing your head tenderly before dragging you to your cubby.

she sits you down, helping you into one of her hoodies before helping you change from your boots.

“russo spoils you, (y/l/n)” katie teases, “you don’t deserve this little angel” katie laughs, you knew she meant well but it sent a knife to your heart.

you throw her a pathetic smile, looking down as alessia shooed katie away, smiling up at you reassuringly, kissing your knee gently before moving up.

she quickly packs your stuff away, as well as her own and quickly changing, claiming you both could shower at home.

she essentially dragged you out of the room, opening the door for you to her car, doing your seatbelt for you and kissing you sweetly before she went to her own side.

you really didn’t deserve her.

the whole ride home, you stared out of the window, only really contributing to conversation when necessary. alessia was truly worried at this point, but not wanting to push you.

she cautiously grabbed your hand and interlaced them together, worried you’d pull away but you tightened your grip. she sent you a smile even though you weren’t looking at her, so instead she kissed the back of your hand. letting you know she was there, like always.

you both got inside and you trudged to the bathroom, closing the door behind you. alessia’s heart broke a little, you’d usually shower together in times like this, but you didn’t want anything to do with alessia she felt. so she left you alone..sort of.

she placed her ear on the door when she didn’t hear the shower start, instead hearing a heart wrenching sob escaping your throat. she couldn’t handle it anymore.

“baby, open the door, please” alessia pleaded, your sobs not relenting, “(y/n/n), come on, love” alessia tries again, hearing you cry and feeling her heart breaking. she started to panic until she heard the door unlock, not wasting any time and making her way inside.

“hey, hey, hey” she coos, bending down to your level when she sees you cry on the floor, you can’t help but cry seeing her, her own tears streaming down her face when she saw you.

“what’s wrong, love?” she asked softly, wiping your tears from your cheeks with the pads of her thumbs.

you tried to open your mouth to speak but nothing came out, her hands made their way to the sides of your neck as she directed your eyes to hers.

“breathe, baby” her thumbs brush against the underside of your jaw, you try to mimick her breathing, little hiccups resulting from your sobs as you and alessia looked at each other tearfully.

she didn’t know why you were crying but all the pain you felt, she felt.

you both sat there for a second, just in silence with occasional sniffles feeling the room. alessia waited until you were ready, her patience unlimited when it comes to you.

“lessi” you choke out, “i’m here, i’m here, baby” alessia smiles sadly, moving to kiss your cheek gently, only making another teardrop from your duct.

“why, though? you shouldn’t be with me” you hiccup, her eyebrows furrow, looking at you confused, she tries to speak up but you cut her off, “alessia, you deserve so much better” you sniffle, alessia looks slightly furious.

“i don’t deserve better, i deserve you, you’re more than anything i deserve” she says sternly, “baby, what happened?” she tries again, “i hate my body, i hate the way i look, i hate that someone as perfect as you has to be seen with me” you sniff, alessia looks almost offended, her hands dropping from your face to grab your hands, both of you sitting on the floor.

“(y/n) (y/l/n)” she starts, “my baby, your beauty is out of this world” she says adoringly, “you’re absolutely gorgeous, you’re so kind, you’re so strong, you’re perfect” she smiles, moving one of her hand up to cradle your cheek again. “who put this stupid idea in you head?” alessia tucks a stray peice of hair behind your ear,

“online” you admit quietly, alessia had enough at that, she lifts you up off the floor, your legs wrapping around her waist as she carried you to the bedroom.

she placed you down with a sweet kiss to your forehead, standing behind you in front of the mirror. you shy your gaze away, looking down at the floor, unable to look at yourself.

“look up, my love” she whispers, kissing your temple as her hands held your hips. you exhale deeply before looking in the mirror, making eye contact with alessia through the mirror.

“i love your legs, they’re so strong, they’ve walked through challenges, through accomplishments. they let you walk to me, they let you run, they’re perfect” she whispers in your ear, a frown was still evident on your face so alessia continued.

“your waist, your hips, i love holding it whenever i can, i love feeling you breathing, knowing you’re with me,” she smiles, kissing your cheek, a little hint of a smile playing at your lips that had her brightening.

“next your arms, also very strong” she winks at you, making you huff out a little laugh, “whenever your arms are around me, i feel so safe, i love when you squeeze me when you get excited, they also have your hands attached and we know why i love your hands” she teases, you laugh at that, throwing your head back with a smile when she chuckles, placing a little kiss on your neck,

“i love your neck, i love your shoulders, i love your pretty face, your gorgeous eyes that light up when you get excited, and your smile” she breathes out,

“you know how much i love your smile, it brightens up the whole room, my beautiful, beautiful girl” she says a little tearfully. you turn around and just look up at her, “i love you” she says softly, that’s when you pull her into a bone crushing hug.

“i love you, i love you so much” you sniff, kissing her cheek repeatedly before burying your face into the base of her neck.

she hugs you tightly, relieved that you felt better, “don’t listen to any of the idiots online, baby” she says into your hair, her hands rubbing comforting circles over your (her) hoodie.

you nod into her skin, letting her drag you to the shower where she really showed you some appreciation about just how beautiful you are.

—

you’d finally woken up to yourself through the help of alessia, you’re absolutely gorgeous no matter what anyone says. it was a relief for everyone when you and alessia came to game day as loved up as ever.

as soon as alessia got out of the car, you latched onto her back, making the girl laugh brightly as she walked with you bumping into her every two seconds, attempting to keep your bodies close together.

“baby, i can’t walk” she laughs, “fine,” you huff, hopping onto her back, her hands instantly catch under your thighs as she smiles brightly when she feels you peck her cheek repeatedly as she walked you both into the emirates.

“lovebirds” leah teases, you wink at her and nod, making the older girl send you a playful grin as alessia continued to carry you into the change rooms.

you and alessia play exceptionally well, assisting her in a goal that had the crowd roaring. you bound over to her with a bright grin as she held her arms open to you, lifting you up triumphantly, feeling more proud about you rather than the goal.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!! ily tooney

liked by ellatoone and 44,232 others

alessia: the most perfect human being alive

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yourname: yeah, you

↳ alessia: we’ve been through this, little one

↳ yourname: oh please, you aren’t much taller

↳ leahwilliamsonn: oh, you’re so cute

↳ yourname: what the fuck

↳ alessia: so so so cute

[moominsuki]

bakugou is definitely someone who can’t love or be truly intimate someone until he’s known them for an uncomfortable amount of time. that’s why he’s the perfect candidate for falling in love with a childhood friend or a longtime colleague.

don’t get it twisted - he has probably been with a few women here and there (flings and such) but it’s not even in his character to sleep with women a.k.a the pump and dump. he thinks it’s degrading and he doesn’t particularly enjoy being with women he doesn’t have a strong connection to. the man just has urges.

he falls in love so randomly too - if it’s a childhood friend, it’s someone he always wanted/liked to a certain degree, he was just too pussy to say anything and life happens and they finally get to reignite that spark like nothing happened and this one is an adorable one because you’ve both known each other for a while and you’ve seen him through his awkward, angsty 5’7 bakugou stage and you adored him just as much as you did then and now - it helps he’s gorgeous and also a sweetie pie.

if it’s a colleague/coworker, then it happens when he’s slightly older and it’s someone who he’s had a thing for but, like aforementioned, bakugou hates to ruin a good thing and has a huge fear of rejection - even though you always fill up the coffee in the break room how he likes it, even though you let him pick you up to and from work, even though you literally kissed his cheek at a party. he chalks it up to you being tipsy and you eventually have to grab his face and just kiss him and it goes from there.

either way, bakugou actually takes his time with you - the road to intimacy is a bit slower because of how much he really likes you but you do end up doing the do (yay) and bakugou actually gets super overwhelmed during intimate sex with someone he really wants. it’s a very carnal desire that burns in him and it swallows him up whole.

it’s been a heavy day at work - bakugou feels a bit shitty and you offer a nice bath to loosen you both up. he obliges even though he doesn’t normally do baths because it’s you, duh.

you get in and so does he and it’s quiet - a few words of “you good, baby?” and “lemme wash your hair,” here and there. you’re not doing anything particularly profound but like aforementioned, intimacy makes bakugou’s dick chub up like crazy. you can feel it pressing into your butt and it’s endgame.

he takes you in missionary in his bed and you’re looking up at him, all wide eyed and glassy and a little drunk on him. bakugou prides himself in being an attentive and long lasting lover but when you wrap your legs around his lower back, your hands press into his shoulders and a few unshed tears in your eyes and pull his face down to kiss you with a ghost “i love you so much” resting on your lips does bakugou practically reel into you: red face in your neck and a guttural moan of your name and profanities slurred into one new word.

bakugou knows he’s entirely whipped: he can’t believe he’s ever slept with women casually when being intimate could feel like this, like a piece of your soul being pulled out by a succubus. only this succubus loves him and laughs at his jokes and cleans at his wounds and when she laughs, he feels like the world is a good place again.

when he reluctantly pulls back to see your face, he’s met with a smile that reaches your eyes and he falls in love with you all over again.

not before folding you in half to apologise for the early arrival.

[lovebugism]

Some blurb with grumpy fem reader and sunshine eddie?

He's constantly flirting with her and she only teases him or talking him down.

One time some cheerleader trying to flirt with Eddie and reader is so possesive, taking his hand and walking away. Eddie is wide-eyed, big smirk on his face and going after her with jumpy steps full of joy.

✶ ┄ SHE'S SO UNUSUAL !

summary: eddie's pretty sure he's loved you since the day he met you. you're pretty sure love is a neurochemical con job pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 2.8k warnings: none? maybe just the faintest hint of angst? a/n: let's play a game of spot the steven universe reference because a clip popped on my tiktok fyp a couple days ago and even though i've never seen it, i simply haven't been able to stop thinking about it <3 anyways thanks so much for your request! hope you enjoy!

( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )

Eddie’s pretty sure he’s loved you since before he understood what the word really meant. He didn’t know a lot of things, really, especially not as a lanky-limbed teenager trying hopelessly to navigate puberty in a world filled with assholes and uncertainty.

The only thing he could be certain of was all the love he had for you.

He’s seventeen and hopelessly stupid and you’re beautiful and eons out of his league. He concludes that having the majority of your gen-ed classes has to be fate and that making fun of you is the easiest way to talk to you without feeling like he needs to throw up. 

So he takes to bothering you every day before class and sitting at the table beside you — despite the fact that it had been assigned to someone else at the beginning of the school year — until the teacher ultimately gives up and lets him sit next to you. He pokes fun at your Blondiemerch and how the same She’s So Unusual Cyndie Lauper cassette has been in your walkman for a week straight and the way you dot your eyes with pretty little hearts.

Every joke is sprinkled with the faintest hint of truth, though.

He tells you that he hates Blondie but that the shirt looks good on you, because everything you wear looks good on you. He says it’s hilarious that you can’t seem to listen to anything other than Cyndie Lauper but that he understands because he’s been obsessed with Metallica lately — and that he’d love to show you some of their music sometime. He says only children put hearts over their i’s, but that it's real cute when you do it, when you do anything.

“You’re so annoying,” you inevitably tell him with the roll of your eyes when he tells you exactly that. He can’t tell if the way the corner of your lip quirks up is from a half-concealed smile or a look of disgust.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he shrugs and knocks his leather-clad shoulder with yours. “It’s not my fault that I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you. Actually, now that I think about it, it’s kinda your fault.”

He says it all with a playful lilt to hide how much he means each word. That he’s in love with you and has been since you were in middle school, when he had a godawful buzz cut and loving Rocky Horror Picture Show was your entire personality — at twelve. 

“Love at first sight doesn’t exist,” you argue while you mindlessly jot down notes from the textbook spread open between you, dotting every i with a practiced heart. “Love takes time and work. At the bare minimum, you should at least probably know the other person — and you don’t have a single clue who I am.”

He’s momentarily knocked asunder at your words, at how profound they are. It’s like a century-old philosopher is using a pretty highschool aged girl as a mouthpiece, and it only makes him love you more.

“Well, I could get to know you,” he retorts with a frown. “You just won’t let me.”

“Did you hear anything I just said?” you squint over at him. 

“Yeah. That love takes time,” he echoes and a grin pulls slow at his lips. “Good thing we’ve got all the time in the world, sweetheart.”

When two years fly by, and you’re finally a senior (and Eddie’s repeating his last year of high school over again because the one before it knocked him on his ass), you realize that he wasn’t kidding around. He still tries hopelessly to get to know you and jokes that he’s a second-year senior only because he “didn’t want to leave you behind.”

“Couldn’t just leave you by yourself, sweetheart,” he says with a defiant shake of his head. “No way. Not with Jason Carver and all the other freaks roaming around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re the freaks here, Eds,” you monotone as you put in the combination for your locker.

He immediately notices the use of the nickname. It took you a year to call him anything other than Munson, and now he’s moving into Eds territory? It feels like his heart might burst. But you don’t seem to notice it so Eddie decides to keep it to himself, like sunshine in his pocket, lest he brings it up and he never gets to hear it again.

He presses a hand to his chest and leans in next to you. “Ouch, babe. I’m wounded. Truly. Sorry for wanting to protect a sweet little thing like you.”

You scrunch your nose and swat his hand away when he tries to squeeze your cheek.

“Some would say I actually need protecting from you.”

 “I am capable of pretty dangerous things, sweetheart.”

“Like what?” you scoff.

Eddie only grins. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

You ignore the chill that his words shoot down your spine and pretend to be unbothered by the way they make your heart race. You choose to roll your eyes at him and stuff your arms with textbooks. “You better have a massive dick to back up that attitude, Munson, or people are gonna be real disappointed.”

“And by people you mean you, right?”

“Obviously not,” you monotone.

“Well, joke's on you, I’ve already disappointed everyone I know.”

“That’s not true, Eds—” you shoot back but then swallow the words when you realize you were about to say something too sweet. “There are billions of people in the world you haven’t met yet. There’s still plenty left to disappoint.”

“You’re real sweet, you know that?” he jokes with a smile. “Besides, if you’re really worried about the size of my dick, we can always break out a ruler and, you know, test your theory.”

“Ooh, sorry,” you wince. “I left my magnifying glass at home. Maybe some other time?”

“How about tomorrow?” he answers quickly and easily falls into step with you when you shut your locker and head towards your next class.

“I have a date tomorrow, actually. No can do.”

His heart stops and his throat swells and he forgets what words are for a moment or two. He can only blink at you for a few seconds. “A— A date?”

“Uh-huh. Jason Carver. He asked me out this morning.”

“You’re kidding,” he retorts bitterly with a scowl on his face. Then you start laughing at him and the world starts spinning again. He starts laughing too, but it’s more of a sigh of relief than anything else. “You— You are kidding?”

“Obviously I’m kidding,” you shove him. “Hell will freeze over before I am willingly anywhere around that guy.”

Eddie’s freshly beating heart starts to swell. It feels like more of an honor than it already has been, for you to want to willingly be around him.

“Oh, so you were just trying to make me jealous, then?” he squints over at you.

This time, you’re the stuttering mess as you try to figure out what to say.

He chuckles at you. “Because it worked, sweetheart.”

A couple of months or more go by and graduation nears — well, for you. Eddie’s still hellbent that he’s going to have to repeat another year, but you’ve made it your mission to get him to pass English.

He doesn’t even mind that it means he actually has to do the homework, as long he gets to spend time with you in the Hellfire room after school or share a snack with you at the picnic tables at Forest Hill.

It’s got him living in a state of grandeur. He’s hopelessly deluded, not only that he’s in love with you, but that you’re in love with him. And, for obvious reasons, you know that can’t be true.

Neither of you can be in love because you’re kids and you’re stupid and you don’t know a single damn thing about anything, let alone something as trivial and philosophical as love. It’s a neurochemical con job, everyone knows it. It’s not real.

Everyone thought Nancy and Steve were in love at one point, and then she called him bullshit at a party before fucking off with Jonathan Byers.

Everyone thought Jason and Chrissy were in love, too — that they would be everything Steve and Nancy couldn’t — and then she dumped him in front of the entire school after catching him being an asshole to a bunch of Hellfire club freshmen.

So, obviously, no one knows what love is. 

And by that logic, they can’t know when they’re in it either.

So you chalk up the butterflies and burning cheeks you always get around Eddie to being a dumb teenager who’s lonely and touch starved. Because it’s not love. It just can’t be.

Eddie begs to differ, though, and he swears he’s got the test to prove it.

It’s the spring assembly at Hawkins High, which means everyone’s gathered in the gymnasium on bleachers that are not nearly big enough to accommodate everyone, doing fuck all and grateful for not having to do any actual work. 

The cheerleaders do a couple of dances, the basketball team prances around the court — it’s all hopelessly pedestrian as far as you’re concerned.

You and the rest of Hellfire are located at the very top of the bleachers, as far away as you possibly can be from whatever the hell is going on below you. It checks out, though, because everyone else opts to keep their distance from the lot of you, too.

And you’re not exactly sure how the conversation started, but somehow you end up talking about crushes, and Eddie makes the too bold proclamation that you’ve got the fattest crush on him of all people.

“Leave her alone!” Dustin scolds him over the band, the only one actually trying to stick up for you. “Maybe this is something you should discuss, I don’t know, in private?”

You roll your eyes. “There’s no need. Because I don’t have a crush on you, Eddie Munson,” you tell him, stern and unwavering, as you squint over at him. Your glare follows the boy as he paces up and down the bleachers, two levels below you. “Sorry to bruise your ego.”

“Oh, so you won’t care if I tell Chrissy that I wanna take her on a date?” he asks you with a knowing grin.

“Why would I care?” you retort, then grumble. “It’s not like she would say yes anyway.”

“Well, she did ask me first.”

That quietens you instantly “…You’re lying.”

“Wanna bet?” he teases and leans down, resting his weight on the seating in front of him, until his face is level with yours. You can smell the nicotine on his breath and the mint gum he smacks between his teeth. 

If you were alone — and in some godawful teenage drama — you might’ve pulled him in for a kiss right there. At least, that’s what your brain tells you to do because your lips have started to tingle just thinking about it.

You hope Eddie hasn’t noticed the way your gaze falls on his own pink, plump, and very kissable ones. But the grin that paints his features then tells you that he has.

You play it off with a stoic expression and crossed arms. “Chrissy going from dating the captain of the basketball team to the town’s local freak would be an unprecedented low.”

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about our trip to Lover’s Lake tomorrow morning, sweetheart, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he promises before rising and spinning on his heels. He makes the trek to the lower level of the bleachers — a feat made more difficult by the crowd and the distance between it and him.

He makes sure to turn and look back at you every now and again, to make sure that you’re still watching him. You are. Of course, you are. And you hope the seething anger in your chest doesn’t show on your face.

“He’s not actually gonna ask her out, right?” Mike wonders.

“No way,” Dustin denies with the shake of his head. “The president of Hellfire can’t date a cheerleader… Right?”

Gareth shrugs. “He’s obviously bluffing.”

“Yeah, he wouldn’t do that,” Jeff agrees. He turns to look over at you. “He’s been in love with you since middle school. He just wants to upset you.”

“Well, it’s fucking working,” you grumble under your breath. Your heart races and your vision swims as you watch him near the group of cheerleaders sitting on the floor of the gym. 

You want to believe that he’s bluffing, you really do, but you don’t doubt that Chrissy’s asked him out.

After she dumped Jason, she’d gotten strangely protective over the Hellfire club — constantly making an effort to talk to them all, ensuring that the rest of the school wasn’t acting total assholes around them. Hell, she’s even started being nice to you and you weren't even in the damn club.

She’s been hanging around with Eddie a lot more lately, catching up in the library and ranting about tests between classes. Everyone’s seen it. You’ve seen it. And it’s made you unbelievably jealous. 

Maybe you never noticed it before now because you used to be the only girl interested in talking to Eddie. But now he’s got the head cheerleader around to keep him company, to ask him out on fucking dates, and it leaves you seething in your rage.

And if love is anger, then you’re head over heels for Eddie Munson.

You rise suddenly from your seat and shove your way through the bleachers, muttering lackluster excuse me’s under your breath as you go and elbowing those who refuse to get out of your way. 

You reach Eddie just before he’s about to tap on Chrissy's shoulder. You take that hand and nearly jerk it from its socket the way you pull at him. Eddie is stunned, for all of half a second, thinking it must’ve been a fuming Jason Carver at the force of the grip around him. 

But it’s just you, all but dragging him out of the gymnasium with the strength of ten men in one angry teenage girl, and it makes him smile so hard it hurts.

He traps the grin between his teeth and locks eyes with the rest of Hellfire from across the room. He brings two fingers to his forehead in salute before he’s pulled out of the gym entirely.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he teases as you lead him down a long hallway. “Thought you didn’t give a shit if I asked her out?”

You don’t respond to his teasing. You just keep tugging him by his wrist through the empty school. He’s not even sure if you’re even breathing just now, or if you’re moving strictly on autopilot and rage.

You shove him into Mr. Kamisnky’s vacant classroom and lock the door behind you.

Eddie’s chest rises and falls with the heavy breath he exhales. “Well, shit, sweetheart... If I knew making you jealous was all I needed to do to get you alone, I would’ve done it a long time ago—”

“Say you didn’t mean it,” you interject, less than amused at his teasing.

“…What?”

“That you wanted to take Chrissy on a date,” you elaborate with arms crossed over your chest, protecting yourself, your heart. “Say you didn’t mean it.”

And Eddie laughs. He fucking laughs. Like everything’s a joke to him, like the mere thought of you being heartbroken over him liking Chrissy is funny to him.

It’s not. Well, at least not that bit. It’s laughable to him that you would even think he wanted anybody but you after he’s spent so many years fawning over you.

“Of course, I didn’t mean it,” Eddie scoffs. He tries to take a few steps closer to you, but you back away, not believing him. He softens. “I just wanted to make you jealous, sweetheart. I didn’t wanna… hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you monotone.

The boy’s brows furrow. “Hurt your feelings or make you jealous?”

“…Yes.”

A smile pulls slow at his lips. He tries to hide it but fails miserably. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I just wanted to see how you would react. And I am very pleased by this reaction… Even though my wrist feels like it’s broken.”

“Sorry,” you murmur to yourself, already embarrassed at how angry you’d gotten.

“Don’t be sorry,” Eddie declines with the shake of his head. This time when he walks toward you, you don’t back away from him. You even let him take your elbows in his hands and rub his thumbs over your warmed and jealousy-prickled skin.

“Actually, you know what, do be sorry,” he corrects playfully. “And make it up to me by taking me out. Somewhere fancy.”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile. 

“Benny’s Burgers?” you offer after a moment.

“Ooh. Burgers, fries, a milkshake, and a hot date?" he lists with a nod of approval. "You really know how to get a guy to swoon, don't ya sweetheart?”

[sfehvn]

sacrifices

Request: "if requests are still open (if not pls ignore) i’ve been obsessed with the idea of astarion being confronted with what tav becomes if he ascends. i picture the gang with raphael, astarion is determined to undergo the ritual, and raphael snaps his fingers to morph their strong leader into a frail, broken version of themselves. afraid of him. can he live with what his decision does to the person he loves, does that knowledge change his mind? could be something completely different tho, i’d love to hear your take on it!" A/N: I took some creative liberties because I'm still mid-Act 3, but I hope it's up to par nonetheless. I also think I totally misinterpreted the prompt now that I'm re-reading it after finishing this. I'm kinda not very brainy. (sparkle sparkle) I hope you enjoy anyways! lol Word count: 2,426 Characters: Astarion x Tav

━─━────༺༻────━─━

  It was as if every fibre of your being had been desecrated from its vessel within an instance. You suddenly felt the scrutiny of every eye in the room upon you; you felt naked. The strength that had bumbled in every nerve of your body had been silenced. The gravity of the situation you were in towered on slouched shoulders and you gasped at the overwhelming perception. Every position you’d been in since aboard the nautiloid ship assaulted your mind. You hadn’t died, yet the trauma that you could have knocked the air from your lungs. A veil had been lifted from your desensitized mind. You weren’t even through the thick of it, the squirming parasite behind your eye being a palpable reminder. You stared wide-eyed at the group before you, taking note of the uneasy way Shadowheart looked from you to Astarion. You tried to choke out something, anything, but instead, a terrified whimper left your lips.

  The imbalance of authority was instantly discernable. Formerly the most capable of them all reduced to a powerless husk. Astarion stares at you warily, stepping closer only for you to cower backward, all but tripping over your own feet. “Please.” You pleaded against your better judgment. You were attentive to the knowledge he would never hurt you, but there was something profound in your brain telling you to run. He was a predator and you his prey. Perhaps the security of knowing you could always defend yourself if it came down to that was always there. Without the power, without those means, you indeed were afraid.

  Realization washes over Astarion’s face as he looks at you. The tension in the room was so impenetrable that Shadowheart spoke up hesitantly. “Give her some space.” No matter how sympathetic her words are, when she touches Astarion’s arm to give him a gentle tug back, he rips his extremity from her grasp. “Astarion.” She says firmly, looking at you with sad eyes. It was unspoken; if this was what you were to be, you’d never make it.

  “Fix her, devil.” He sneers, disregarding Shadowheart to the best of his ability. Raphael chortles, a playful glint in his eye. This was all a game to him.

  “So sad, wouldn’t you agree?” Raphael muses apathetically, moving to fiddle with the ends of your hair. Your body tenses and you want to run, but you’re frozen in place by fear. “At the end of the day, we are ultimately what our bodies perceive us to be. As for Tav, it would seem she’s not the leader you lot took her for after all. A travesty really.” His eyes lock on Astarion, a giddy smile on his face at the vampire’s anger. It oozed off of him, feeding Raphael sadistic joy.

  “You will not touch her Raphael-” Before he knew what had happened, he was laid out across the floor by a flick of the devil’s hand. Despite the aching in his bones, he pushes himself back up onto his feet, ready to pounce once again. Raphael already has his hand raised, ready to knock Astarion back once again.

  This time it’s Karlach’s hand that grabs him, holding him firmly in place. “Astarion, this won’t solve anything.”

  “By the hells it won’t! So that’s it? You want to abandon her here? After all she’s done for all of us? You ungrateful bastards! She’s stuck her neck out for each one of us and you turn on her just like that? Pathetic.” Astarions spits, his body shaking from the rage bubbling within himself.

  “Of course not! We love her just as much as you, but charging nonsensically at a devil whom we cannot touch over and over again won’t fix it.” Karlach exclaims and, perhaps because it was the most emotionally driven of the group to speak up, Astarion’s body loosens in defeat. Karlach withdraws her hand cautiously.

  “As much entertainment as I’m getting from watching this debacle, I believe we’re done here for now. I trust you’ll discuss this with your little wizard friend and let him know the crown is mine and I expect to receive it as soon as it is in your possession. Upon payment, I’ll restore our precious Tav’s previous state of being. I’m glad we’re all on the same page.” Raphael sends the group off with a snap of his fingers. The spinning surroundings bring you to your knees and you squeeze your eyes shut in a failed attempt to block out the sensation. Once you open your eyes, the group is back in the rented room of Elfsong. 

  A combination of the intense whirring, of everyone’s eyes on you, of your power being ripped from your body; you wretch. Your body heaves as the nausea finally subsides, Astarion is by your side, rubbing circles over your back and holding your hair loosely in his hand. Karlach has already fetched a fresh bucket of water and a stack of rags to clean the mess. Halsin, Jaheira, Wyll, Lae’Zel, and Gale look on in confusion, and you note Shadowheart gathering them together. Her voice was whispered and you couldn’t make out what was being said, but you didn’t have to be a scholar to know she was filling them in on the events that had transpired. Even Mizora was amongst them as if she was one of the same.

  The sight makes you want to wretch again but you hold back, gently pushing Astarion’s hands away from you. Your heart aches at the hurt look on his face but you just couldn’t. The power imbalance was too significant for you to handle in the moment; around any of your comrades, to be fair. However, there was something about Astarion that terrified you now. You knew it was senseless, but it couldn't be helped. “I need to be alone right now.” You manage from your raw throat. You did need to be alone; as alone as you possibly could be in the large room with nine other occupants.

  Karlach was one of the only people you allowed to stay with you as you lay in a daze on your bed. She was toweling a damp cloth over your forehead, chattering as usual. You recognized she was trying to act normal as if you hadn’t just had everything you’d ever known mangled from your very essence. You appreciated it. It was a far cry from the remainder of the party, now not bothering to hide what they were discussing as they tried to formulate next steps in the center of the room. You’d wished they wouldn’t, as selfish as it was. Though it seemed you were of some semblance of sound mind because you refrained from asking them to shut it down. They had to go on; with or without you. Astarion watched on in disgust from a corner of the room.

  Seeing you like this was destroying him, eating at his soul. He felt a fierce desire to protect you in this state, to keep you safe, yet you wouldn’t even let him near you. You were the only person who hadn’t treated him like something disposable in almost two centuries of existence. He feared that was gone. Would things get better? He yearned to hold you, to tell you everything would be okay. He hadn’t seen fear in someone’s eyes even comparable to yours since he was still a mindless slave to Cazador. Knowing that you felt that way about him struck him viscerally. He felt greedy for thinking it, but even if you didn’t become the fearless Tav you once were, he’d hoped you would eventually gain that trust with him again. Whatever the outcome, he would do what needed to be done to protect you.

  “I’m sorry but suggesting we just hand over Karsus Crown to a literal devil is insane! Have you lost your senses?” Gale shouted with conviction, throwing his hands up wildly.

  “Gale. What choice do we have? Tav has been a friend and she’d do the same for any one of us. We know what must be done.” Halsin reasons calmly in an attempt to ease the distressed wizard.

  “Well, I would bloody hope not!” Gale snaps in astonishment. “This is ludicrous!”

  Mizora pipes up and there is an air of amusement in her statement, “The bumbling one is correct. Raphael promises peace to the Nine Hells, but it is only a matter of time before he takes on other conquests. If you’d prefer the hells turn over; by all means.”

  “Come on! The lot of you have forced me into agreeance with a fiend.” Gale mutters.

  “A battle he will surely lose. Circumstantially, there’s no way the crown is powerful enough to intercept our plane.” Shadowheart reasons. 

  “Shadowheart, I have a great amount of respect for you, my friend. But you’ve no idea what you're talking about.” Gale holds a hand up dramatically in her direction.

  “She has a point.” Wyll finally offers his own input. “If our plane of existence could be overturned with the simple possession of this crown, it would have been done already, wouldn’t it? And if Raphael only wants to restore order in the hells, why not?”

  “All it would take is the correct entity. Just because something has not been done, does not mean it will never be done.” Gale sighs and there is a brief bought of silence before he continues. “Listen, Tav means just as much to me. It would pain me not to have her fight alongside us again, but-”

“Careful Gale of Waterdeep.” Astarion jeers as he approaches the group. “It would be a pity if someone had to put you in your place, but I can’t say I wouldn’t enjoy it. At this point, I’d think it a service to the rest of us.” 

  “Gale is right.” You declare. The group had been so engaged in conversation that they had failed to notice your approach. “I admire the lengths you guys would go to restore my power and I cherish each and every last one of you.” You shoot a small smile of reassurance at Gale, indicating that you indeed meant him too. “That being said, I recognize the need for boundaries. If this is the end of my road, well, I take pride in knowing I had the opportunity to assist our victors to the finish line.” You attempt a laugh, but it just sounds sad. You clear your throat. “Raphael cannot come into possession of this crown. I hope you all can respect my wishes.”

  Astarion wants to shake you, to tell you how foolish you were being. Had you really lost all of your senses when Raphael had stripped you of your power? “You will die, Tav. Do you not understand that? Without the means to protect yourself, you will die!” His shouting caused you to flinch and he instantly regretted it. The group sat in a paralyzed silence as they watched you two, not daring to interrupt Astarion in this state. “I will not lose the first thing I’ve loved in over two hundred years.” Tears threatened his ruby-red eyes, and he fought them back, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he’d made himself amongst the party.

  “I know, Star.” You finally choke out after a lull of silence. You look away from him quickly and Karlach ushers you back to your bed. Astarion looks around the group with narrowed eyes as they disband to make their way to their collective beds. Why wasn’t anyone arguing this? How could they be so comfortable sentencing you to your death?

  Astarion stared up at the ceiling of the inn that night, unable to slip into his meditative state. Instead, he tried to grasp at the idea of you simply not existing—the months you had spent together that had felt like the entirety of his life left to mean nothing. It was tragic, just like the rest of his life. Of course someone like him couldn’t have a simple, happy ending. Why wouldn’t the very thing that kept him going be destined for death?

  His eyes open at the sound of approaching footsteps and your distinctive scent welcomingly floods his senses. He looks over to see you approaching his bed timidly as if you were uncertain about the action. “I don't,” you paused, fumbling with the hem of your shirt. “I don’t think I can sleep without you, Star.” You two hadn’t spent a night in separate beds since he had confessed his true feelings for you. The admission made his heart swell with hope and he shifts wordlessly, making room for you on the small bed beside him. He holds open the blanket for you, and you climb in. 

  He hears your heart slowing to a calm pace. The emotions were too overwhelming for you to comprehend. You had a newfound fear of the vampire, but your body craved his. Not just sexually, but it longed to be near him. It was as if it needed him to function properly. Astarion felt it too. It was like a missing piece of himself had returned to him, even if this moment was fleeting; he would hold you for as long as you let him, and he would wait for you to return when you were ready.

  There was one thing he was sure of. If you met your demise, so would Astarion. The time of only seeking power and authority was over for him. If he could, he would lay in this bed with you until you both withered to nothing. He did not want to outlive you in any sense of the word. He made a silent vow always to protect and keep you alive along with him. It was implicitly clear what he would be doing. The ascension had to be done, if only so you could live to see this through. The power and glory not even a last thought in his decision. He’d do this for you—the many conversations the two of you shared about the ritual flitted through his mind. You’d always been so careful of his wants while expressing apprehension about him going through with it. You’d convinced him, too. He was set that it was not what he wanted. He had been blinded by the splendor of it all. Things were different now. You would no longer be able to keep yourself alive; but he could.

“I love you, Tav.” He whispers.

“I love you, too, Star. More than air.” You murmured into his chest.

[nyctoaerah]

Can u please post the other parts of Wish Granted?:( i can't open the links for some reasons and it says that I don't have the access to read it or something. I'm really hooked, but I'm sorry for bothering

-❤️‍🩹

WISH GRANTED: CH 2 & 3.

⋆♱⋆SYPNOSIS: In which, Eyeless jacks develops an infatuation with a grade A detective and ends up granting her wishes in the most twisted way.

⋆♱⋆WARNINGS: Gore, Mutilation, Mentions of Torture, Jack Being creepy.

⋆♱⋆PAIRINGS: Yandere! Eyeless Jack x Fem! Detective! Reader

⋆♱⋆PREV

⋆♱⋆NOTE: Hey pookie, idrk why it isn’t working for you because it’s working for me properly:( maybe you should restart your pc/phone? Or maybe it’s on your internet? I’ll try checking on the links later and revise them. But yeah, dw, it’s not a bother, i don’t mind it anyways. I’ll just post the other parts later<3.

Ps; Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

⋆♱⋆MASTERLIST

AS SOON AS THOSE words reached your ears, a chill crept down your spine causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand at attention. Your heart dropped into your stomach, the thundering rhythm filling your ears drowning out all other sound. The blood seemed to freeze in your veins as icicles of dread rapidly spreads throughout your limbs, numbing you from head to toe. Your breathing became shallow and you were wide-eyed and unblinking, your pupils dilating until only a thin ring of iris remained,

That certainly wasn’t a news that you wanted to hear.

your grip on the phone faltered and it slipped from your trembling hands, crashing heavily onto the ground as your breath hitched in your throat.

“Your boyfriend and best friend were found dead.”

Those words kept repeating in your mind, the weight of those words bore down on you, sending an icy shiver cascading down your spine. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, leaving you unable to discern what you truly felt. Your breath caught in your throat, threatening to suffocate you as dizziness washed over you, threatening to pull you into unconsciousness.

‘But i was just with them a few hours ago...’

It hurts so much, it felt like your heart strings are about to break.

It was a tumultuous mix of fury, grief, betrayal, heartbreak, and a profound sense of self-pity that overwhelmed your senses. This day had already been marked by a series of unfortunate events, beginning with the painful revelation of your boyfriend’s infidelity and culminating in the relvelation that your closest confidant had been a traitor all along.

The news of their deaths hit like a tidal wave, crashing into the already shattered pieces of your heart.

You stumbled back, collapsing onto the closest piece of furniture that hadn’t been destroyed in your fit of rage. Your body shook with tremors, the weight of grief becoming almost too much to bear. Regret seeped into your veins, staining your conscience with a haunting question: Could you have prevented this?

As your mind raced, memories of your boyfriend and best friend flooded back. The joyous moments you had shared, the laughter, the support – all now overshadowed by the painful truth of their betrayal. How had you been so blind? Anger surged through you, sparked by the overwhelming hurt, as you cursed their names under your breath.

But amidst the anger, a profound sadness settled in, casting a bleak shadow over your soul. You mourned not only the loss of their lives but also the friendships and the love that was once so pure. The realization that you would never hear their voices again, never feel their warm embrace, tore through you like a serrated knife.

You needed to do something.

with trembling hands, you reluctantly reached for your phone, only to discover a crack on its screen. It must have happened when you dropped it. A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Your throat was dry and your eyes were bloodshot due to how much you've cried.

Using your shaky fingers, you unlocked your phone and wiped the moisture off the screen with your hands. As you opened it, a flood of notifications greeted you, including messages from Earl, Jhenicca, and others. Slowly, you navigated to your contacts and dialed the headquarters. They answered promptly, causing you to release a shaky breath.

“What happened?” you inquired, your voice raspy from the lack of moist and use.

“Lieutenant, how are you holding up?” came the concerned voice on the other end of the line.

You let out a heavy sigh. Of course, you were far from okay. The pain of heartbreak still lingered, threatening to tear your emotions apart. But you were determined not to let your personal turmoil interfere with your duty. Despite their betrayals, your love for your boyfriend and best friend remained, and you couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a gruesome end.

“I’ll manage, don't worry about me,” you replied, trying to sound composed.

“Information please,”

You requested.

“We discovered Lieutenant Earl and Detective Jhenicca’s bodies near the Forest,” they informed you, their words hitting you like a blow.

“What do you mean at the forrest?”

you exclaimed, your voice tinged with shock as you processed the information.

“I was just with them at the station just a few hours ago, they would never go to a forrest.” you stated, your brows furrowing in confusion. The image of that encounter still haunted your mind, causing your voice to falter slightly.

“Jhenicca despises forests,” you muttered, your fingers tightly gripping your phone. The situation was becoming more puzzling by the minute.

“That’s the very mystery we’re trying to unravel, Lieutenant,” they explained. “That’s why headquarters is requesting your presence.”

You let out a snort.

Of course, they would want you there.

As one of the last people to see them, you were likely the prime suspect in their disappearance.

“Interrogation,” you stated, weariness evident in your voice.

“Yes, Lieutenant, they want to interrogate you,” they replied.

You couldn't help but release a heavy sigh, feeling drained.

 “I’ll make my way there later,” you mumbled, the exhaustion weighing on your words.

“How did they... die?”

You asked slowly.

“We believed that the cause of death is by blood loss.”

“They got mutilated, all of their fingers in both hands and feet was removed, and  they were skinned alive, moreover, their bodies were also covered in honey and other things and bees were swarming over them, and so does other bugs, that were probably eating them slowly.”

The image of their mutilated and dismembered corpses sent a shiver down your spine.

Torture.

“So they got tortured first before dying then...”

You mumbled, realizing that they got a painful death and it is indeed a murder.

“We believe so,”

You let out a sigh.

“Have their bodies been taken for autopsy?” you managed to ask, your fingers involuntarily curling up in distress.

“Yes, Lieutenant,” the voice on the other end confirmed.

“Forensics are currently examining the bodies at the morgue. We’ll let you know as soon as we have any updates.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It was essential to stay focused and maintain your composure despite the heart-wrenching news. These investigations required a clear mind, and your team relied on you for guidance.

“Thank you,” you replied.

“Please keep me informed of any new findings.”

“We will,”

they assured you.

“And remember, you aren’t alone in this. We’re here for you, Lieutenant.”

You smiled a little, even though they couldn’t see you, Their support was essential, but there was still a part of you that felt isolated, grappling with the weight of your emotions. You had loved and trusted both Earl and Jhenicca, and their betrayal and death had shattered your world.

As you hung up the phone, you closed your eyes, trying to push away the painful memories and focus on the tasks ahead. The investigation couldn’t wait, and justice needed to be served.

And suddenly, out of nowhere, you felt a wave of tension wash over you, it felt as if someone is watching you right now.

Now that you weren’t bawling your eyes out and not having a breakdown anymore, you noticed this strangeness.

Your brows creased as you opened your eyes and scanned your surroundings, checking left and right for any signs of an intruder.

But there was no one in sight. It had been three long months since you first sensed the eerie feeling of being watched, but the demands of work and the constant presence of either Earl or Jhenicca by your side had distracted you from paying it much attention. However, now that you found yourself alone, the unsettling sensation began to gnaw at your thoughts.

And then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of your window slightly ajar. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you struggled to recall if you had ever opened it. Opening the window was not a regular occurrence for you; in fact, you rarely ever did.

“I don’t recall opening my window,” you muttered to yourself, as you stood up, wobbling a bit as you walked towards the window to investigate.

but before you could investigate further, a sharp pain shot through your foot. You looked down to find the cause, only to see an assortment of glass shards scattered across the floor—probably from the vases and other things you had threw on the ground. You must have accidentally stepped on the broken glass, and warm blood began to trickle from the wound.

This really is such a bad day.

Suppressing a curse, you quickly hobbled over to your bathroom to tend to the injury,  As you made your way towards the bathroom, an overpowering stench assaulted your senses. It was an amalgamation of metallic notes, mingled with a sickeningly familiar odor reminiscent of raw flesh, like the scent that lingers at a butcher shop. It was a scent you had encountered many times before, while investigating crime scenes. But the difference is, it wasn’t a crime scene. It was your own bathroom.

Your brow furrowed in confusion as you cautiously pushed open the door, the repulsive smell growing even stronger.

At first glance, everything appeared normal. But when your eyes traveled upwards, a blood-curdling scream escaped your lips.

Multiple human fingers were nailed and plastered in the walls like some sort of furniture, both fingers from the hands and toes, you can see the bones under them as blood dripped from them.

they were forming a word, three fingers were on a shape of the letter ‘W’, one for the letter ‘I’, five for the letter ‘S’, Three for the letter ‘H’, five for the letter ‘G’, five for the letter ‘R’, six for the letter ‘A’ and ‘N’ Two for ‘T’, four for ‘E’, and with the last letter being ‘D’, which had three fingers on them. 37 fingers, were nailed in your walls, with the words being....

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃.

...

...

You were utterly shocked, repulsed, scared, evident from the way your eyes were protruding out of their sockets.

You instinctively recoiled by taking a swift step backwards while simultaneously covering your mouth with your hand in disbelief.   The intensity of the sight before you was so overwhelming that your stomach twisted and turned, disturbed by both the visual and olfactory aspects of the situation.

Your gaze shifted anxiously from each finger that protruded from the walls, their bloodied presence revealing the exposed phalangeal bones, their hues tainted by the crimson fluid. Overwhelmed with revulsion, your head whirled in a nauseating manner, unable to tolerate the repugnance before you.

As the sensation of vomit surged uncontrollably, you swiftly clasped your abdomen, succumbing to its intensity and disgorging the contents of your stomach.  

As you expelled the contents of your stomach, the regurgitated food landed repulsively on the ground.   Simultaneously, you struggled to catch your breath, your throat and esophagus ablaze from the corrosive stomach acid that accompanied the vomiting. Overwhelmed by a burning sensation, you instinctively clutched at your chest in despair, desperately gasping for air.

This reaction was unprecedented, as these circumstances were nothing compared to the gruesome crime scenes you had encountered before.   However, the sight that now haunted you was beyond horrifying—The scenes on the crime scene might be more brutal and horrifying in the perspective of others, but fuck, this was more horrifying in your point of view.

Fingers were grotesquely displayed upon your walls, gruesomely nailed in place. Both severed fingers from hands and feet were arranged in this macabre exhibit, leaving you utterly revolted.

As you breathed heavily, your lungs felt burdened and your chest throbbed painfully. Gradually lifting your gaze, saliva slowly trickled from your mouth, intermingled with traces of vomit that had inadvertently stained your clothes. The previous cut on your foot, which once caused you considerable discomfort, seemed inconsequential compared to the searing pain originating from your bruised esophagus.

As you carefully observed the fingers, There was a significant change in the size of your pupils—It shrunk down in shock. Some of the fingers had an unmistakable feminine appearance, while others displayed a more masculine quality. The sight of these fingers caused a sharp, involuntary reflex as you instinctively averted your eyes, overwhelmed by a sensation that made you cringe in discomfort—You felt as if you were going to vomit once again.

“Come on, breathe, [Name]...”

You told yourself.

The offensive stench of severed fingers combined with the repugnant odor of your vomit further intensified your disgust, while your chest continued to burn fiercely.

“Calm the fuck down, [Name].. calm down... breathe..”

You urged yourself to regain composure, but despite your efforts, you couldn’t manage to achieve it.   The intensity of your emotions caused an overwhelming surge of hot tears that pooled in your mouth, leaving you surprised that you still had the capacity to cry given the torrent of tears you had shed upon discovering your boyfriend’s infidelity.

The bitter taste of regurgitated stomach acid lingered in your throat, a distressing reminder of the moment when you couldn’t contain the contents of your stomach any longer, resulting in a forceful expulsion and a fiery sensation in your esophagus.  

Overwhelmed by despair, you found yourself clutching at your hair, desperately digging your nails into your scalp as you pulled at your [H/c] colored tresses, hoping that this agonizing reality would dissolve into a mere figment of your imagination or a horrendous nightmare.

Already enduring a dreadful day, this traumatic scene shattered your fragile emotional state, sending waves of anguish through every fiber of your being, making you fear that you might lose consciousness.

With each successive backward step, your cheeks were drenched in a seemingly endless stream of briny tears, as if the act of retreating physically symbolized your desire to distance yourself from the emotional turmoil consuming you.  

With trembling and unsteady hands, you hastily reached into your pockets and frantically retrieved your phone.

It almost slipped from your shaky fingers, but you managed to tighten your grip on it. Filled with fear, you immediately dialed the number for your department, desperate to share the terrifying news that had just unfolded before your eyes. The sheer terror coursing through your veins made it difficult to steady your voice as you trembled with every word you spoke.  

“Please, please, pick up!” 

You couldn’t comprehend how these gruesome objects could have appeared in your fucking bathroom without your knowledge.   Fingers, bloodied and gruesome, were inexplicably plastered on your wall, mocking you with a message that sent shivers down your spine.  “Wish granted” it read, like a sick joke or a cruel twist of fate—What kind of sick psycho would do that?

You are in danger.

Deep down, you desperately hoped that it was all just an elaborate prank, but the harsh reality crept in as you realized the horrifying truth.   This was real.   The sight of the bones protruding from the severed fingers, the nauseating smell that permeated the air; it was all too real to fucking deny.  You were in danger. Someone broke into your house and placed those nasty things, you will probably be the next victim— no, no, you shouldn’t think like that, you needed to fucking calm down. But you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Pick the fuck up, come on, come on, please, please!!”Your voice cracked with desperation as you urged the recipient of the call to answer. After what felt like an eternity, they finally picked up on the other end.

“Fuck, fuck...”

You breathed out, the relief that washed over you was drowned out by the urgency in your voice as you struggled to convey the gravity of the situation. 

“I need help, fuck, fuck, please... i need it asap!” Your words were slurred and rushed, with your fear causing you to stumble over your sentences, barely able to articulate your pleas. 

“lieutenant? What’s wrong? You seemed to be panicking.”

“Come here, please, please, come here as soon as possible!   I’m begging you!” Your voice quivered with a mix of terror and desperation as you practically wailed into the phone. The overwhelming sense of danger that loomed over you threatened to consume your every thought, leaving you trembling in its wake.

“Lieutenant [Name], calm down please, i cannot understand you, breathe lieutenant.”

The person on the other end of the line tried to calm you down, struggling to understand your panicked state.

“No! P-please! I beg you!   I-I’m in danger! I need help, ASAP!” You cried out, your voice cracking under the weight of the fear that gripped you. Gathering whatever courage you had left, you knew you had to escape the horrors that surrounded you.  Without hesitation, you dashed towards the door, paying no mind to the disarray of your appearance. Your hair was wild and disheveled from the frantic tugging and pulling, while your clothes were stained with the remnants of your own vomit. You didn’t even bother to slip on your shoes, desperate to flee as fast as possible, clutching onto your phone as if it were your only lifeline.

“I-i’m in danger, s-someone just fucking— blood, blood everywhere!”

You shouted frantically, your words tumbling out in a rush.   The sight of disembodied fingers had sent you into a state of panic and fear.   As you hurriedly fled the scene, your foot unintentionally landed on the broken shards of the road, causing searing pain to shoot through your body.   Despite the agony, you dared not glance back towards your dwelling, consumed by the urgency of escape. Each breath you took was labored and heavy while physical exertion and emotional turmoil that coursed within your veins.

“Lieutenant, please take a moment to catch your breath,” the concerned voice from the other end of the line implored—you were talking too fast after all and your breaths came in ragged gasps.

The person on the call was genuinely worried about your well-being, but the sheer intensity and speed of your words made it challenging for them to grasp the full extent of your distress.   What did you truly mean by ‘fingers’? The mention of that word stirred memories within them, reminiscent of the horrifying ordeal your boyfriend and best friend had endured just hours before.  Both of them had suffered the gruesome fate of having their fingers, hands, and feet forcibly severed.   And now, here you were, frantically babbling about fingers and succumbing to panic.   Your rapid-fire speech only served to further hinder comprehension. 

“Lieutenant, please try to compose yourself,” the voice urged, attempting to soothe your frenzied state once more.   This behavior was uncharacteristic of you, as you were never one to succumb to panic easily, unless something truly devastating had befallen you.    

Between sobs, you managed to utter,

“Fingers on my walls, blood...   blood was everywhere.” The words trembled with anguish and terror as you continued to run, tears streaming down your face.   The sight that had confronted you was undoubtedly traumatizing, imprinted in your mind like a horrifying image that refused to fade.    

“And i fucking know who those fucking fingers belong to!” you suddenly declared,

“They’re from Earl and Jhenicca!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Chuckling quietly to himself, Jack discreetly pressed the play button on his phone once again, the soft melody of the recorder filling his ears through the earphones he wore.   The recording, which captured your horrified scream upon discovering his little surprise gift for you, played on repeat as he leaned against the walls of your bedroom.

The sound of your screams, like a symphony to his ears, resonated deeply within him. As he listened intently, tapping his gloved hand against his masked face, he couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t get the chance to witness the ‘gift’ he had carefully prepared for you in your bedroom. 

Unbeknownst to you, while you were having your break down, he had been concealed within your closet all this time, meticulously recording each moment of your suffering.

Every cry and retching sound had become music to his ears, fueling his sadistic pleasure. As was his usual routine when stalking you, he overheard your emotional breakdown while you were alone in your car, expressing a fervent wish for your unfaithful boyfriend and treacherous best friend to suffer a painful demise. And so, he decided to grant your fucking wish!

In his twisted mind, he saw himself as doing you a favor by eliminating the people who had caused you pain— They deserved nothing but torture and pain upon hurting you and he couldn’t help but wonder how that pathetic excuse of a man managed to pull someone like you.

Fuck, you were just so cute when you were wailing that he couldn’t help but want to hear that pretty cries of yours more, and so he killed your boyfriend and bestfriend to add more pain and make you more vulnerable, break you apart. And he killed your beloved bestfriend and boyfriend for you, after all, that’s what you wanted, right? right? right? You wanted this. You wished for this.

He deserves to be praised for doing such a great job in making you mentally unstable.

You provided him great amusement. as always in the past, you would display intense effort in attempting to identify the perpetrator and obtain even the slightest hint. Your unwavering determination, firm resolve, and intellectual capabilities were captivating, drawing him towards you.

For him, it was particularly enjoyable to unravel the complexities of someone as resilient as yourself,  and break that fucking adamant nature of you, unlike certain shy timid schoolgirls who become frightened merely at the sight of blood.

He sought amusement and you were the sole individual capable of providing it to him without inducing him in boredom.  

Your breakdown both surprised and amused him greatly, providing him with a sense of power over your vulnerable state.   The scent of your blood,  when your feet were cut on broken glass, wafted into his nostrils, providing an intoxicating allure that seemed almost heavenly to him.

And it made him wonder about how you tastes like.

[pearlesscentt]

pancakes for two

haechan x reader, college!au, fluff, 477 words

"i might have a crush on you."

haechan's sudden confession caught you off guard, causing your fork to clank against the plate. you glanced around the bustling diner to make sure you didn't disturb other patrons — most of whom your fellow students who are either restless from school work, or curing a hangover, or both — and to see if anyone else had overheard what he just said. your wide-eyed gaze locked with his, as he returned it with sincerity in his eyes. you could tell he was nervous because of the way he shifted in his seat across from you.

this quaint diner had become your shared haven. a saturday tradition for the both of you which involved an earl grey tea for you and a cup of coffee for him, two stacks of pancakes with maple syrup, and a platter of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns to share.

for some reason, you still remembered vividly how this tradition came about; it was three years ago, you and haechan were just acquaintances that had a bunch of mutual friends, it had been a long night of drinking punch that tasted suspiciously like gasoline and sprite, and it was even inclusive of the brutal hangover that came after.

three years later, here you were in your regular booth, sitting across from each other like the first morning. you'd only gotten closer with each other over the years and you hadn't stopped coming here since.

"actually, i really do have a crush on you," he repeated, his voice now more resolute and confident. he reached for his coffee, swiftly downing the cup like it was water.

you bit your lip as you tried to come up with a response. "really?" you finally managed, fiddling with the fork on your plate. "because i have a crush on you too." you added with a smile, and both of you burst into fits of giggles.

"we're so cheesy," you remarked between chuckles.

"i know," haechan agreed. the laughter subsided after a moment, but his gaze remained fixed on you. instead of the jitters earlier, he now radiated warmth and beamed at you with a loving smile. "three years of friendship and two years of being together, and i still have the biggest crush on you."

"happy 2nd anniversary, my love," you said. the busy saturday morning chatter in the diner faded into the background as butterflies fluttered inside you — a familiar feeling you had come to know since meeting haechan. in that moment, all you felt was joy and contentment, appreciating the pleasure of sharing your favorite meal with your favorite person. it was a feeling of profound gratitude for the luck, the foul-tasting punch, and the stacks of pancakes that had brought you together.

he reached over across the table to hold your hand. "happy anniversary to us, indeed."

nct masterlist | navigation ── reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated !

© 2023 PEARLESSCENTT. please do not steal my works.

[terresdebrume]

Oh hey also, guess who's started on the next down on my knees installment x)

"Jenny."

Jenny's shoulders stiffen, and for a second it almost looks like she's trying to pretend like she hasn't heard Crystal, which in the one hand is kind of fair since she doesn't have a long lunch break, but on the other hand Crystal really, really needs some pointers right now.

"Jenny!" She hisses, like she needs to be quiet, "I need advice!"

"Why, Crystal?" Jenny sighs, slapping a hand on the table and levering Crystal with the most baleful glare in her repertoire—and Jenny's kind of the archetypal goth. She's really good at glaring. "Why do you keep coming to me for advice?"

"Do you see another adult in my life I could go to?" Crystal asks, wide eyed in disbelief. "I'm not asking you to be my fucking mom, I just want your opinion on something!"

"The deal was," Jenny says, visibly giving up on her sandwich and starting to fold the foil around it again, "that I don't ask questions and you don't bother me. I was very explicit when we signed the lease!"

"Okay, and how many times in the past year have I come to you for life advice?"

The answer is three times that Crystal can recall. When she first moved in and she didn't know how to get her colleagues at the supermarket to stop treating her like a baby, when she'd figured out she actually did want to go to college but wasn't sure if she should ask her parents to help her with it, and when that one random hookup decided to slip the condom off in the middle of things and she was so out of sorts she didn't remember [Planned Parenthood] was a thing until Jenny sat her in the car and drove her there. Three times in almost a year and a half really isn't that bad, honestly. Jenny must agree, too, because she heaves one last big sigh and gestures for Crystal to come into the kitchen and sit at the table.

"It's not gonna take that long, I promise," Crystal says as she sits down. "It's just. Remember how I told you I was bringing a guy home last night?"

Jenny's entire demeanor changes immediately.

"What did he do?" She demands, "Did he take your shit? Did he hurt you? Did he try to force you into something? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm okay!" Crystal promises, raising her hands as placatingly as she can manage. "I'm okay! He's nineteen too, his name is Charles, we had a lot of fun and in fact, I'm planning to ask for his number because he seems pretty cool."

Jenny frowns in a way that makes it really hard to remember she's only nine years older than Crystal and not her mom. Not that Crystal has that much experience seeing her mom react to her problems, since she doesn't go to her parents with them, but their assistants certainly seemed to make that face often. Crystal waits while Jenny's pinches the bridge of her nose and takes three big breaths, and then Jenny puts on the strained flat-mouthed expression that means 'I am thinking of different ways to kill you right now' to say:

"I fail to see what the problem is."

"Well," Crystal sacrossing her arms over her chest, "he's kind of uh. Still here."

Jenny glances up at her wall clock, which Crystal knows for a fact says it's about a quarter to one. Jenny make a considering face, then with an air of profound regret she says:

"At the risk of learning more about your sex life than I ever wanted to know, at what time did the two of you finish yesterday?"

That's also easy to know. Crystal hadn't planned on bringing anyone back yesterday because she wanted today free to take care of her hair and re-dye her tips, and whe's learned the hard way not to do that when she's exhausted. The only reason she asked Charles back, aside from the dimples and the easygoing nature and how he's the exact opposite of David so far, was because they ran into each other early and she figured coming home at midnight would give them time to have fun and still get some decent sleep. The last thing she remembers before falling alseep is watching her alarm clock tip over to one thirty in the morning.

"And you let him hang around for eleven extra hours?" Jenny exclaims, shocked.

"He's not 'hanging around'," Crystal corrects with the most sarcastic airquotes she can muster. "I know how to handle the morning after conversation! He's still asleep."

"Oh my fucking god!" says Jenny, dropping her head into her hands.

"I'm trying to be nice!" Crystal protests, but that doesn't stop Jenny from groaning for at least a minute straight.

[whirling-fangs]

Soft clatter of metal scrap across wooden flooring, the burn of oxygen leaving him gasping so softly for the air his body refused to taken. His whole form covered in many different healing wounds. Ranging from critical severity to left over bruising. He’s only just awaken from the final battle. One of the four surviving Hashira, the first to wake up between the twins.

He shouldn’t be on his feet, yet he was. And here he was, stumbling, tripping just a bit, but he steadies himself with the help of his iv hanger. Yet. He carefully walks.

Well. Stumbles. Until he reaches his destination. Inosuke’s bedside.

Where he sighs so softly, carefully setting down besides him. And with a shuddering hum, he reaches his nimble fingertips out and carefully ran through those black blue tipped locks. With a tired smile, unnaturally pale skin, he hums softly.

“….t…Told ya.. you dumb boar. I promised. I promised I’d live. We both did. Mui hasn’t woken up yet, but he’ll be okay.”

“But I’m up. I’m here. I heard you.”

Time had become a blur. Ever since Inosuke had woken up in this bed, with a familiar ceiling above his head, the hours (or were they days?) had ticked by so slowly that he could almost feel them slide across his skin. "

It didn't take him long to gauge the seriousness of his injuries. The damage was profound, but none of it was beyond repair. His flesh had been sliced into over and over, the blood drained from him, cuts mended and opened again, muscles pulled to their furthest limit... but he didn't break.

With those few seconds of introspection out of the way, Inosuke's mind was free to rush to what really mattered: the fate of his comrades. Some names he didn't have to speak to the blue nurse, his foggy memories turning sharper as some visages floated across his mind. A butterfly clip in the empty-eyed girl's hands. The nurse's own expression, carrying a sadness beyond words.

For some of the names, the nurse could not give him an answer. Soon she was called to duty again, to tend to those whose fate was undecided. To those who were still fighting.

And so Inosuke could only wait, wait for those excruciating seconds to tick by... until slumber got hold of him once more. He drifted to a heavy, uncomfortable sleep, broken only by a gentle touch running across his scalp.

Blink. Blink. His eyes opened wide at the third time, a bandaged hand immediately grabbing the boy's wrist.

"You... what are you doing here?! She's gonna kill you! Shinobu..."

His voice died in his throat, a choked cry, his grip loosening around Yuichiro's wrist. The elation he had felt upon seeing those turquoise eyes had been fleeting, crushed by the weight of the losses they had all suffered. It took him several seconds, but Inosuke managed to put a smile upon his own face again.

"I knew. I always knew you'd survive. Now sit down, you idiot.. or the blue nurse will take away our dessert."

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

To the Shadows that Cry Witch /// Chapter 9

Hello! I've finally managed to access my documents which means I'm posting on time! I do apologise for the random POV change throughout, but it was the only way I could get what I wanted to write flowing properly. I also just want to say thank you to those who have given me support, you all mean the world to me. But other than that, enjoy! <3

Summary: Welcome to Middle Earth! We're currently in the Shire, though not for long. Dark times are ahead. Enjoy your stay!

Tags: Kíli x oc/reader - Fíli x oc (POV to be written soon) - Thorin's company x ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - SUPER slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1716

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Minor and Major Injuries from last chapter.

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

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Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 8 // Chapter 9 // Chapter 10 >

PART 1: Chapter 9 -

The Teletubbies could never

Numinous (Definition): Feeling both fearful and awed by what is before you. (Adjective / Origin: Latin / nu·​mi·​nous)

The place was almost identical to how we had pictured it.

Round hallways of cream framed by planks of dark, golden brown, with intricate furniture taking up every possible area, but nothing disorganised, each object having found it’s place.

“And you call me a hoarder.” I murmured to Kay as we both stared. She didn’t retort straight away this time, too busy absorbing the sight in front of us as I picked up and fiddled with some random object.

“Holy fuckkkk.” Was all that she eventually said.

“Excuse me!”

Damn, I almost forgot he was here. Bilbo seemed to find his voice quicker than earlier, marching over, a frown on his face at Kay’s choice of words. I made sure to discreetly slide the thing in my hand back where it was whilst watching the ordeal amusedly.

“I would very much appreciate it if you refrained from using words like that.” He lectured; one arm tucked behind his back as he wagged a finger at her. I snorted quietly at the sight of Kay looking down at him with wide, guilty eyes. And the fact that swear words existed here. “Such profound language will not fly here, especially with me.”

Looking down myself, it occurred to me that I didn’t realise that he would be this small. No matter how many times I stood a measuring tape next to me, I couldn’t really comprehend his size back home. If he headbutted me right now, his head of bouncy curls would only just reach the bottom of my ribcage. I mean I’m 5’9, so he was always going to be miniature next to me, but even comparing him to Kay, who only reached around my nose at 5’4, next to her this guy was the definition of tiny. He looked as though he couldn’t hurt a fly.

However, he most certainly had proof of denying that last statement, his feisty mothering personality most certainly making an impact, as levelled us with a stern gaze from two and a half feet below.

Oh right, we’d hardly spoken a word, let alone to him directly, and we were currently in his house!

“So sorry! I – uhhhh.” Kay began hesitantly, before elbowing me. I eyed her accusedly, but quickly looked back down at the hobbit.

“Oh! Uhm, I don’t suppose you know where we are?” I questioned.

He looked between us, perplexed as he was most likely trying to reason why two women were probably wandering unknowingly in the forest behind his hobbit hole. He had noticed earlier as he politely investigated our rucksacks, unbeknownst to us, that we carried no weapons, and the contents within didn’t look as if they would last them a day. We most certainly didn’t look like merchants or travellers. He didn’t even go on adventures and he knew us two weren’t cut out for travel.

“Why, you’re in the Shire of course!” He answered. “Now, what business do two big folk have coming to Hobbiton?”

“Um.. no business?” I replied.

“We’re lost!” Kay chimed in.

“Lost?” He frowned. “What on Middle Earth were you doing, getting yourselves lost?”

“Well… We went to visit a waterfall, near our home, and haven’t been able to find the way back since.” Explained Kay, figuring the truth was the best option.

“And we’ve errr— never been to or heard of the Shire,” I added, half-lying. “So we must be incredibly far away.”

“Never heard of the—! By Valar you must be far from home!” He spluttered, his slight irritation from them landing in his garden now replaced by a new wave of sympathy, as he realised these girls with their nervous eyes, muddy, ripped – also highly unusual – clothes, entangled hair, and just their overall dishevelled appearance, seemed to truly be a bit too far away from anywhere familiar for their liking. A slight twinge of guilt panged in his chest at his slightly unorthodox attitude earlier, clearly they were in some state of shock.

Taking in a bit more, he also noticed they seemed a lot more injured than he thought, watching as they’re expressions contorted uncomfortably whenever they moved, along with one of them nursing a bandaged hand that had blood seeping in some places.

As for me, I absorbed as much of his appearance as I could whilst he spoke. As aforementioned, he was unusually short, considering the faint lines on his face didn’t show signs of childhood youth, and observing further, I saw that he had the strangest of features. His ears, half hidden by his curly locks, were wide and pointy, reminding me that of an elf. I secretly gawked at his feet, because they were the most abnormally large feet I had ever seen, especially for someone who didn’t even look as if he hit 4ft. Not to mention they were incredibly hairy. Along with his handmade dressing gown, looking as if it was crafted from a quilt blanket from some charity shop.

How peculiar.

“Sooooo,” I began as a sudden thought came to mind, drawing Bilbo’s attention. “How did we end up in your house exactly?”

“Well,” he began, albeit slightly nervous. “I happened to find you both quite knocked out, and I wasn’t going to let you both freeze to death in the pouring rain, so I took the liberty of taking you both in and lending you the guest room.” He explained, waving his finger down the hall at the room we just came out of.

“So you’re saying you dragged two unconscious strangers… into your home?” Kay questioned, a slightly concerned look on her face.

“I mean, it’s not often that—that we get big folk around these parts.” he rambled as he shifted on his feet, feeling the tips of his ears turning pink under the pressure of our slight interrogating. “Certainly not ones that I-er, find falling from my roof.”

“Your roof?!?” We both replied, completely perplexed.

“Well by the sounds of it, you had quite the tumble!” He exclaimed with a slight laugh, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at the front door. “Landed smack dab right in the middle of my bush, you did!”

“Oh, then where were we…” I trailed off.

My stare wandered from Bilbo to the door at the end of the corridor, and within a moment I was down the hallway, ducking under beams and through archways until I arrived at the door. It took me a second, but I managed to figure out the handle and it wasn’t long until I was in the fresh air.

Kay had followed, leaving the poor hobbit trailing after us in confusion. Coming to a stop next to me, we took in a sight we never thought would be possible to see.

Rolling green hills stretched in front of us and we stared. And stared. As if we haven’t done that enough already over the last day or so. And I then realised that it was the hobbit’s circular doors that I had tried to make out through the distance in the rain last night.

By the looks of it, and by some miracle, we had stumbled mindlessly into the bloody Shire. I mean, we would’ve known if we were in the goddamn Shire yesterday if it hadn’t been so DARK. Neither of us could even begin to describe how we felt, all I could do was really try my best not to scream or cry as I dug my fingers into my palms, and I could guess that Kay was having a similar reaction. Who wouldn’t? The Shire was literally the dream place, and we were stood right in the middle of it. Not the movie set, no, like, the genuine real Shire, and with, by the looks of it, real hobbits.

My mouth just hung open as I whipped my head around, feeling both amazement and excitement rise within me. “Whaaaaaatt the—” I started, but stopped myself from completing that sentence, feeling Bilbo’s stern glare on the back of my head.

Finally shaking myself out of it, I carried on with what I came out for. Scouring the ground, I spotted where we had landed, the now half-flattened bush twisted oddly and I gazed uncomfortably at the splots of our blood dotted around, the red shining in the morning light against the vibrant green.

Taking the path down to the closed gate, I stepped over it, not bothering to take the time to open it since it barely reached past my knees, though being careful with my injured ankle. Taking a few more steps back, I managed to be able to look up the hill Bilbo’s house resided in, following the trail of flattened wet grass and mud streaks until I zoned in on the top.

There was the grass bank we were on! Though now I realised it was a hill, with several chunks missing, along with the evidence of a miniature landslide.

Looking back at the two remaining confused at the door, I called out.

“We must’ve accidentally wandered here, and we’re travelling across the top of the hill when we fell!” I explained to Bilbo as I pointed. Kay raised her eyebrows and nodded in both agreement and realisation.

Now happy with our explanation, Bilbo clapped his hands to get our attention.

“Right!” He declared and we both looked down at him, jumping at his sudden switch. “Follow me!”

He waved his hands about, frantically beckoning us towards him as he led us back into Bag End. Me and Kay shared a quick glance, excited grins on our faces as we followed him back in. We both bent over at the low height of the door frame, me doing so the most, much to the chagrin of my ribs, but we were able to straighten out as the ceiling inside stood somewhat tall enough. However, I could still feel the ceiling brush the top of my head when I stood at full height, and I realised my time spent here would consist of me avoiding any ceiling fixtures along with the low, circular doorways. ‘But it was forever worth it, considering where I was currently’, I thought to myself, making sure to dodge the chandelier in front of me as we walked deeper into the hobbit hole.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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[thelongestway]

some very sudden and unoriginal Star Trek Prodigy thoughts

do we know from anywhere that the Living Construct was developed by the Vau N'Akat?

because I was just thinking on the thematic parallels of two civilizations suddenly tearing themselves apart. to a point, this could be a product of the Vau N'Akat sense of poetic justice. but I am suddenly not so sure it was. now, I might be deeply misremembering, but I woke at 1 AM to write this, so hear me out.

either the fault lines in Vau N'AKat society need to run deep enough that slight provocation could tear them wide open, or… the Living Construct is neither Vau N'Akat nor Starfleet. Instead, it's entirely its own. Perhaps something of an eldritch opposite to the Borg: an entity which tears apart social connections instead of forging them by force. Most obviously by messing up language; a living punishment for daring to build a Tower of Babel. But perhaps also in more subtle ways?

and who should be able to work on that ship if not people whose existence has hitherto been defined by profound, destructive loneliness? who are always resigned to the possibility that it could, in the end, be their fate?

there is nothing more the Construct can do to those who have lived and breathed loneliness and know it as the baseline norm of existence unless they do something about it with their own hands. Who would it attack? Dal, the only one of his kind, raised by a particularly ruthless Ferengi? Rok-Tahk, perceived as monstrous and dimwitted when she is curious, smart and kind? Zero, who has already lived through being torn away from their people and their link, and has been used as a weapon for who knows how long afterwards? Jankom Pog, alone on a Sleeper ship, with his bitter "if there's one more problem I can't fix, how can I call myself an engineer" and dreams of royalty? Murf, who is too alien to participate in most forms of communication the others form together? The only person who has had even shreds of recent belonging was Gwyndala, and that ended on-screen, with "You chose the ship."

and Janeway. the right way, the wrong way, and the Janeway way, as that recent post said on the insane, warping loneliness of command and loyalty when you're 70k light years away from home (or however long it was). and the Protostar Janeway cannot even rely on her experience being lived.

but the Construct knows Protostar Janeway, and it knows what she misses. so it stays dormant and infects an optimistic Starfleet, used to Community.

In this context, the Construct could easily be the first cause, and at the same time the Vau N'Akat could just as easily have thought it originated from Starfleet. Imagine if the Protostar came in with that weapon embedded in it (from Wormhole shenanigans*), and collectively Chakotay and the Vau N'Akat figured it out too late, at which point the Vau N'Akat decided it was Starfleet's plan all along. Chakotay crashing his ship Prophets knows where makes sense: isolate the isolator. In this case, the Borg being weird about the construct makes sense (need to rewatch), and also Zero being able to just walk out on them. Way less attack surface.

And another thing: the training the Diviner puts Gwyndala through is insane. he wasn't just preparing a wartime interpreter, that'd be a couple of languages plus a Drednok. Teaching a child… Dozens if not hundreds of languages? Why? What past war and experience was he preparing her for? Why make her learn ways of thinking until she could know most of the races in the galaxy blind? Was he ensuring that, no matter what, she could reach someone? Even if everyone else were to be affected - in the land of the blind, the one-eyed lady is queen.

I really, really want to see how season 2 will handle it. and I have faith that they will, and that they will find a new home. we need more linguistics in our science fiction, and even if this theory is totally bonkers, the themes of loneliness, understanding, and literally being able to speak to one another will be there. because the writers are good, and that's what they chose to explore, and showed it like 5 min in of episode 1.

I think Suzette Haden Elgin would've loved Star Trek Prodigy, and that it would be a high compliment.

*crack version: it's a stray Pah-wraith. Instead of "why do you exist here", it goes "you HAVE and WILL ALWAYS exist HERE". The Bajorans were mostly immune to them for the same reason the Prodigy crew is: there is a limit after which loneliness and uncertainty become the default, and then those beings lose their power (and the people thrown into it? die or have the kind of scars we're shown). And also this is how they get Kai Winn - after what, four decades including concentration camps and empty prayer? Took 'em a while EVEN WITH the seeds planted for them by Winn Adami herself!

[consideratepig]

Terrible Lie (a Don't Starve fic)

SAN FRANCISCO POLICE DEPARTMENT —INCIDENT REPORT

Case Number: 006-74891-106-1565

Officer: Detective Lt. Caboto

Unit: Homicide

Date of Incident: Unknown(1905)

Remarks: The following passage is an excerpt from a journal entry thought to have been written by William Carter, the journal page reads:

‘I believe I've made a terrible mistake… It wasn't supposed to be like this. I followed every step correctly, all the conditions were right, everything should have gone exactly as planned… Let me explain: I found a passage in the codex the other day, with information that would allow me to give ordinary objects innately magical properties. In theory, this would allow me to turn my top hat into a storage space for any props I wanted to put in or take out at a moment’s notice. It was the perfect way to bring my magic show to the next level, perhaps even bringing respect back to my tarnished name….Was. In hindsight, I’m only grateful this was an isolated occurrence that happened during a rehearsal and not in front of Charlie, let alone an audience.  Initial tests with sending playing cards and scarves through the portal were a resounding success, however when I tried to retrieve my rabbit there were ...complications. Whatever abomination I pulled from that hat, that definitely wasn't Georgie…In fact, I’m not even sure it was any kind of rabbit at all.  That creature’s shadowy silhouette is one I won’t soon forget. Its coarse fur was dripping with a substance that was as viscous and black as tar. Its limbs(?) were twisted and broken in multiple directions, most likely a result of being forced through too small an opening for its bulky body. I would’ve believed it to be dead, until I approached its body and it drew several gurgling, ragged breaths.  As I stood there, frozen and at a loss of what to do, it suddenly let out an ear-piercing scream of pure  primordial agony, its mangled form twitching and thrashing itself wildly on the floor. When I gazed at what I assumed to be its face, It kept looking up at me with beady wet eyes that pleaded for answers as to where it was, and why it was in so much pain...'

Mirror Links: AO3

When the initial shock wore off for the frightened stage magician, it was only a matter of time before a spontaneous surge of adrenaline kicked in. Without missing a beat, William grabbed the nearest heavy object he could find and with all the might he could muster in his atrophied muscles, he lifted the hammer over his shoulder and bludgeoned the writhing mass of fur in a desperate attempt to put it out of its misery. It was a mercy for the poor critter, or at least that's what he told himself.

To its credit, it didn’t fight back once during its brutal beating, but  after enough trauma to the head, it finally stopped moving. The air he was breathing felt cold and oppressively still for a moment, before the creature’s body rapidly decayed into a puddle of bubbling black sludge.

William dropped to his knees, his body trembled like a leaf and his dress shirt was soaked in a cold sweat. As he struggled to catch his breath, he could taste a drop of blood as it ran from his left nostril. Between the book’s magic and his test of strength, the man had put a great deal of stress on his frail body all at once.

The poor fool’s vision began to tunnel, he felt an overwhelming sense of dizziness and sickness in his stomach while frozen in terrified, wide-eyed disbelief over what he just saw. Was that thing really George? Or was it merely responsible for the rabbit’s disappearance? Was it even real at all?

William's eyes darted back and forth, his mind drowning in a cocktail of intrusive thoughts, extreme stress and profound sadness. His expression changed from fear, to horror, to disgust and finally, crushing guilt. He tried to double down on his self-doubt and tell himself there was a reasonable explanation of what he just witnessed, it couldn't be real… just an effect of the magic going wrong, a figment of his wild imagination, an optical illusion conjured by the stage lights- it had to be.

"Wh… w-what…?" That was all he could manage to get out, eyes shifting between the puddle of muck and his bloody hand, still firmly grasping the handle of the rubber mallet. As his breathing began to even out, William managed to compose himself just enough to wipe the blood from his face. Only a small streak of it was actually his, if one could consider that fortunate.

William was left with a sinking, horrible feeling in the pit of his gut; the reality of the situation hit him like a bare knuckle boxer. He just took a life. A twisted mockery of his prop bunny, perhaps even some horrible demon, but still, a living, breathing creature. The guilt and shame of it was staring at him right in his face with two cloudy corpse eyes and he couldn't take it.

The rubber mallet fell from his shaky grip, loudly clacking on the stage floor as he broke down and braced his trembling hands on the ground for support. William's shoulders tensed, his upper body quickly leaned forward and every hair stood up on the back of his damp neck as he was subjected to a violent fit of retching. The mental image of broken bones poking through putrid, festering flesh & fur wouldn't leave his mind and made him even sicker from the sheer insanity of it all.

"No… No… What have I done?" William sobbed and choked out between heaves, his glasses were slipping and becoming hard to see out of due to the excessive movement and moisture, but he didn't dare reach up to fix them when he felt so unsteady he might slip and fall into a puddle of his own vomit mixed with….whatever sludgy remains that thing had left.

William's mind was running at a mile a minute, his anxiety and stress only getting worse as he struggled to process what had happened. Instinctively, he wanted to be angry and lash out, but his fear kept him in check. His thoughts were a flurry of disturbing images and emotions still fresh in the forefront of his conscience. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to look away.

"This is-…This isn't real, this isn't real this isn't real this isn't real…" William quietly repeated the mantra to himself, his voice breaking down & face contorted into a grimace as hot tears poured out of his eyes. He felt his heart attempting to beat its way out of his chest and he shuddered and let out choked, sucking sobs.

The magician's sobbing quickly turned into heaving coughs and hyperventilation as he slumped against the wall, slowly descending into a more and more catatonic state of shock. He was completely unprepared, both magically and emotionally, for what he accidentally brought into this world.

His bleary eyes darted from the corpse of his fuzzy friend, to the bloody hammer, to the blood on his own hands, to the puddle of puke that was seeping into the rug.

In the back of his head, William could hear his inner voice chastise him for his failures, not to mention how expensive it was going to be to get that mess deep cleaned. Try as he might, however,  all the negative reinforcement in the universe couldn’t allow the rattled magician to move from his current spot.

William eventually curled up in a fetal position on the floor, eyes brimming with tears as he continued to loudly sniffle and shake uncontrollably. The words his mind conjured up to berate him certainly didn't help, his rapidly racing thoughts telling him he's an abject failure, a mess, a horrible person who's taken an innocent life with his powers and he doesn't know how to cope with it.

William knows he has to snap out of this stupor he’s found himself  in, but his mind feels a million miles away from the body that’s supposed to be his. The overwhelming sense of guilt and shame has its hold on him, he'd never wanted to hurt anything or anyone, especially not one of his rabbits. William had spent years working tirelessly towards becoming a successful stage magician, even as his weak health made it difficult to pursue a career. All those years lost to the battle against Consumption and all for what? All for nothing? Nay, all for tragedy.

As William cried to himself in the corner, the goo from the remains of the creature’s body began to crawl towards the magician. Slowly and deliberately, the blob slithered towards him, and wrapped a claw-like appendage around his throat, constricting his windpipe. William knew he had to move, but he was paralyzed with fear. All he could do was gasp for air and watch in panic as the entity began to strangle him.

William's wide-eyed panic only grew as the shambling mass of darkness slowly enveloped his entire neck, gradually cutting off his airflow. He fought against it as much as he could, wriggling to escape its grasp, but it was futile. He had a sinking realization that in his current state, he wasn’t strong enough to remove it himself.

"Please, help me! Someone help me, please! For the love of God, please! Help me!" He frantically cried out for help, his eyes water even more as he started to see stars dancing across his fading vision. He could feel himself becoming lightheaded, his vision fading to black.

"H…help…"

Every time William tried to speak, it was like the shadowy figure was encouraged to strangle him harder. His face turned a flushed red, then a brilliant shade of purple from asphyxiation. Right when he was so light-headed he thought he was going to pass out, his would-be killer was interrupted by the sound of the rehearsal room door unlocking from the outside.

"Hello? Mr. Carter, is that you?" He recognized the voice belonging to Charlie, his assistant he hired last week, calling out to him. Almost instantaneously, the decomposing mass let go and slithered off to the shadows, disappearing from sight  like it was never there to begin with.

"William, are you still here? I'm so sorry I'm late, I overslept and missed my bus..." She called out again, from where he was sitting William still couldn’t see her and evidently she couldn’t see him, but he could hear her closing the door and shrugging off her raincoat.

William took a couple sharp, raspy breaths, coughing and spluttering as he gasped for air. He tried to pull himself up, but his weak limbs refused to cooperate - he was completely drained and barely had any strength left. He heard Charlie's voice calling out to him, but it was difficult for him to find the words to call out for her one more time. Still, it wouldn’t kill him to try, and it just might if he didn’t.

"Y… yes! I'm… h… here… Ch… Charlie." His voice was hoarse and raspy, still recovering from the incident. He let out a sharp exhale and collapsed back down onto the floor.

"There…there's…there's something in the rehearsal room!" William choked out in a strained voice. He grabbed his throat, still trying hard to catch his breath between coughs, and gasped  "In the corner there--please--help me..."

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Charlie asked as she stepped into the room, wearing an expression of befuddlement as she looked at the scene before her. She knelt down next to William and helped him sit upright, her warm eyes full of pity and concern for his well-being. William coughed and tried to clear his throat, still struggling to speak in his exhausted state.

"I’m sorry but, I don't see anything in the corner…" She muttered to herself with her eyes narrowed into a puzzled expression, she investigated the area briefly before her demeanor suddenly changed when a possible explanation dawned on her.

"Wait a second, is this a part of the act? Am I supposed to figure out what you made disappear and how you did it!? Oooh, this is exciting!" She proclaimed with a smile and such enthusiasm that, had it been any other set of circumstances, the magician would’ve found it remarkably endearing.

"N-no, Charlie… there was… n-nothing's h… here now…" As his words trailed off, his eyes drifted over to the empty corner of the room, where he was certain the blob of nightmares was before. Sure enough, there was just a wet patch of carpet in the spot it used to occupy. William's gaze rapidly shifted all around the room as he tried to figure out where it disappeared to and what exactly had happened in the last few minutes. Nothing made any  sense.

"I… don't even … know anymore." He finished with a sigh, looking absolutely hopeless and defeated. Charlie's expression faltered and wore a pensive frown, she kept looking at William with an almost palpable level of concern. She didn’t know what had given him such a fright, but in any case the man clearly wasn't doing well. 

"William calm down, deep breaths okay? I don't know what you saw, but the janitor gave me the keys to lock up right before he left for the day. There’s nobody else here now but you and me." She explained with what she hoped was an assuring smile, trying not to sound scared by how the man she'd barely known a week was acting like he'd seen a ghost. 

William sighed and held his  head in his hands, he felt utterly helpless. He knew what he saw, but now the evidence was gone, the monster was gone. He was scared…he was so scared…His face twisted with frustration, defeat and helplessness. Perhaps it would be best if his assistant wasn't any the wiser to what had transpired, he wouldn't even begin to know how to explain what he saw, even if he wanted to.

"I just…" William let out a deep sigh again, his emotions still all over the place. "I just need… I think I need some rest."

He leaned back, resting his throbbing head against the wall once more. After a brief moment of collecting his thoughts, he gave Charlie a tired smile, a sign she could tell he was just a bit too exhausted to function properly.

"Could you… could you walk me to my room?" He says while he rubs his temples, face covered with a fresh sheen of sweat and eyes deeply sunken in, as if the fool hadn't slept in days. "Ple… please." He added,  clearing his throat.

Charlie nodded, a hardened look of determination crossed her normally soft features as she offered William a sturdy  shoulder for support on the way to his dressing room. In spite of being over a head taller than her, he soon realized Charlie was a much stronger gal than she looked. Or perhaps, William had lost more weight than he realized as of late… although, the likelihood of it being an amalgam of both hadn't slipped his mind either.

William leaned nearly  his whole weight on Charlie and kept himself awake with his thoughts as she led him to his dressing room. He felt so exhausted that he would have slept standing up if he'd had to. Charlie's presence was a welcome comfort, though. He didn't mind it one bit.

As they got to his room and stepped inside, William just let his body crumple and gracelessly flop onto the couch, resting his head on a nearby throw pillow as Charlie looked on. He sighed again to catch his breath, mind too cloudy to even try and think about how awful he was for making his kind assistant care for him like this.

William groaned softly as he settled down on the sofa, taking his glasses off and keeping his eyes screwed shut since the room was so insistent on spinning each time he opened them. Several moments of silence passed, Until he heard the sounds of his assistant's heels clacking on the floors out the dressing room door, followed by the sounds of Charlie returning as she placed a glass on the table next to him.

William finally cracked open an eye to look over at Charlie. He sat up slightly, giving her a smile as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"What's this for?" He asked curiously, glancing down to the glass on the table like it was poison. It was clearly meant for him. "I'm not exactly in the mood for a drink."

"Relax, Willy. It's just water, you probably need it after getting sick so suddenly" Charlie explained as she insistently passed him the cup with two tablets of his headache relief medicine.

"Oh." William said softly as he swallowed the large pills and washed them down with water, the cool beverage admittedly felt soothing for his scratchy throat. When he’d had enough, he set the glass aside with a loud exhale of relief, his eyes drooping again.

"Thanks, Charlie." He looked over at her with a grateful expression, but before he could say anything else, a yawn escaped him. William’s eyes closed soon thereafter and he found himself in a fitful sleep, left to the devices of his guilt-ridden subconscious. His dreams were filled with images of a theater going up in flames, shadows were closing in on him and his assistant, with the screams of  hundreds of people dying and the smells of their charred flesh filling his nostrils.

As he tossed and turned, his faithful assistant Charlie never left his side. Like clockwork, she wicked away the sweat on his feverish face with a damp cloth, gently supporting him and patting his back each time a hitch in his breath disturbed his sleep with body spasms or a violent fit of wet coughs.

When William truly woke up, he was drenched in a cold sweat. His head was throbbing with an immense pain, feeling fit to split open any second like a rotten melon. His heart dropped as his eyes wandered to Charlie, whose soothing fingers were stroking away pieces of  his matted hair.

"Huh..?" He grunted while he looked around, disoriented by the dark room. Charlie's weary smile seemed worried and a tinge too fearful for comfort. The sight of her in such a haggard condition jolted him back to reality, and he suddenly remembered everything that happened earlier all at once. The man's stomach lurched as it was too much to bear and in response to the mounting nausea, he quickly sat up.

William cupped his mouth and roughly gagged into the palm of his hand, bringing up little more than watery bile and remnants of the bitter pills he swallowed before. Luckily, Charlie was quick to react to his situation and stuck the empty water glass under his chin, just in time for William to spit up the rest of his stomach's meager contents into something less disgusting than his lap.

Charlie rubbed his shoulders and whispered words of encouragement into his ear, as the sick man was wracked with a painful episode of dry heaves. William was at the mercy of his nerves and could do little more than cough, gag and belch pitifully through the worst of it, leaning into her touch like it was the only thing grounding him to this plane of existence. William groaned as he spit up the remainder of his stomach contents into the once empty glass. He could feel his eyes roll back as he clutched his head and moaned softly, utterly exhausted and in a great deal of pain.

"Ohhh, God…" He whimpered softly and took several shallow, gasping breaths while holding two fingers up against his bruised neck. His pulse was racing and he felt like he had a permanent lump of coal stuck in his throat. He’d had his fill of finding himself in life or death situations as of late,  he wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed and sleep for an eternity. "What… what time is it?"

"Half past eight, you've been asleep for about four hours…" Charlie answered, dabbing the cracked corners of his filthy mouth with a cool washcloth. If she looked tired, he could only imagine he looked like death warmed over with how Charlie was doting on him.

"Four…hours…?" William took a minute to process the information. It felt as if he had just shut his eyes for a few minutes.

"It felt like… much less than that…" He mused, a pensive expression crossing his face for a brief moment, before being replaced with one of lethargy..

"I'm tired… Can I rest here a little longer?" William asked her while he leaned his head back against the pillow and shut his eyes again. The pounding in his skull was slowly  fading, but the weariness and mental exhaustion were still there. What a mess.

"Of course, I'll call us a cab and wake you up when our ride is here, alright? Don’t worry, I'm sure after a bit of rest, you'll be feeling like your old self in no time." Charlie spoke with a small smile, though even William could see she was putting up a front, the blatant worry she wore on her face had betrayed her optimistic tone of voice.

"Alright…that sounds good." William spoke softly after he nodded at her, eyes still closed and slowly drifting out of consciousness. He felt what little energy he had was drained just from that little bit of conversation.

He didn't hear Charlie's footsteps as she left the room, too exhausted to think about anything else strange that could come. Maybe she was right, maybe it would all be fine after a good night's sleep. With the worst of his headache gone and with Charlie watching out for him, he felt comfortable resting again.

In a moment’s time, his head lolled to the side and quickly drifted off to a much deeper sleep this time around. The events of earlier that day were a distant, fading memory now. At a loss of how to move on from here, his mind spared William’s weak constitution by sending him off to a facetious inner world reminiscent of a simpler time. At least in his dreams he posed no threat to the ones he loved and despite Charlie's best intentions, William wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

[goddevouringserpent]

1 and 2 for Nimka?

What is your Watcher's class? How does it relate to their backstory?

ooh, so Nimka's class is kind of a funny thing in that I've played her as… way, way too many things. (what can I say, the combat system is ridiculously fun so I really enjoy trying out new classes and multiclass combos.) not counting the attempts that never went anywhere—I vaguely remember some capital C Choices involving Barbarian—we have Cipher, Wizard/Monk, Wizard/Rogue and Druid/Rogue, with the latter being the only one that's "stuck" so far, because:

a) her size/build make it so that a fighting style that relies more on dexterity & guile works better than one that relies on sheer strength, and she can't always fall back on magic; b) I believe that most clans in the White that Wends would have a very strong druidic tradition, to which hers would be no exception, so she would have been trained in druidic/animist arts from a very early age, once it became apparent she hadn't inherited her mother's cipher abilities; c) I like to think that she learned her rogue skills during the PoE1-to-PoE2 timeskip, as a "know thy enemy" thing (need to watch out for assassins when you're the Lady of Caed Nua, and what better way to do that than by learning assassination methods yourself!)

so really it was kind of like… a domino effect thing, haha. things falling into place that made it so that Druid/Rogue worked out well for her, mechanically and thematically. might change somewhere down the line, but for the time being that's where she's at. and it helps that "Pathfinder" is also an excellent description of her!

What is your Watcher's disposition?

depends on the game! Benevolent is the only one that remains steadfast as one of her major dispositions through both PoE1 and PoE2, with Clever also making appearances here and there, but her personality changes a lot from one game to the other.

PoE1: Benevolent, Clever, Honest, Passionate. reflecting a Nimka who steadfastly clings to her values & morals, who refuses to be silenced or back down, but who is also… naïve, in a way? she has been travelling for most of her adult life, so it's not like she's sheltered, but she's just undergone a traumatic event and, alongside the pretty significant cultural shock & language barrier (her Aedyran is not as good as it is in PoE2), it can make her come across as tactless, or clueless, or lacking certain social skills, or unable to understand boundaries..., etc etc etc.

PoE2: Benevolent, Clever, Diplomatic, Rational, bits of Deceptive/Shady. being in charge of Caed Nua broke her spirit. she's in mourning, heavily heavily traumatised, struggling with so much survivor's guilt that she even feels guilty for being guilty—and that's just what happens post-Eothas Demolition Services, because really the things that led to her changing were part of a slow, years-long process as she tried to juggle the responsibility of Caed Nua (something she had neither wanted nor was prepared for), the newfound knowledge that the world Does Not work how she would like it to, the events of the past year which she is still trying to cope with to the best of her ability, the profound loneliness she feels even with Edér nearby in Dyrford, and so on and so forth. she essentially sheds a lot of her wide-eyed idealist spark and becomes way more efficient but also way more jaded. she's going through it 😔

[j-graysonlibrary]

The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three Chapter 4

Title: The Xiang Chronicles: Book Three

Author: Jay Grayson

Word Count: 107k

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, drama, LGBT+

Available on: my website

Synopsis: Only one Xiang remains and her name is Merra. She hopes to unite the land by force and plow down anyone in her way—especially the people of Agni who she deems faithless and the native people of Terra who refuse to cooperate with her.

Raine continues to serve his Lord but he has taken to alcoholism to soothe his grief—a fact he keeps out of his letters with Heidi. Baiya has returned to mercenary work in order to keep his family safe while Kira is on the warpath. He, fully, takes on the title of Chaaya and means to defeat the Xiang he sees as false.

And, in a guarded castle in Enlil, a stir-crazy Princess dabbles in the dark arts, setting in motion something even Tiandi cannot see.

Full chapter 4 under the cut

Chapter IV:

The trip back to the living quarters was quiet and only a few whispers were shared among the group as they went their separate ways. May and Fujin into the princess’ room and Parvati into the shadows. Pangu followed Kaz down a short hallway to a different room and was pushed inside when he took too long to enter.

It was large, open, and there was a lounging space in the entrance with a few halls leading to other areas. Like a house within a house. A handful of candles burned throughout, giving a soft glow that felt like walking through a haze.

“You seem a bit slow,” Kaz mentioned as he briskly walked past Pangu. He eyed him with suspicion and his brows dipped inward. “Blood is not pooling in your legs, is it?”

Pangu glanced down and lifted up each foot individually. He did not notice a sluggishness within himself but being able to move at all was a huge leap from his stagnancy before. He returned his gaze to the blonde man and shrugged.

“Still cannot talk?”

He tried. “N….n-no.”

The word was quiet and broken but it did come out and Kaz did understand it.

“That is a start.” He leaned back and crossed his arms. There was hardly any change in his facial expression—it was as if he was looking at a sick dog and was afraid whatever it had was contagious. “May’s other…experiments…could never speak. They could move though. Some of them.”

“W…wh…what,” Pangu struggled but once he got it out, he was renewed with vigor. His throat no longer felt as tense either. He was remembering how it felt to talk. At least he was remembering something. “Did…she…d-do?”

Kaz stared at him for a moment and then dropped his arms but it was not a break in his defense like Pangu hoped. Instead, he kept walking, into a different room.

Pangu followed him and noted that it must be the bedroom. A wide bed rested against the far side and a window was placed high on the left facing wall, letting in starlight and a small sliver of moonlight. White, see-through curtains billowed softly and there was a salty scent in the air.

The sea.

Home.

His attention snapped back to Kaz when he spoke again. “She started about six months ago, maybe longer.” He sighed and rested his hands on his hips. “She did not tell me right away what was going on and I found out through my sister.”

Fujin and May did seem closer so it stood to reason they would share more secrets between each other. Pangu was not sure why but he felt their relationship was brave—profound even—though he really knew nothing about it.

“I accompanied them the second or third time and I watched as May robbed the tomb of her ancestor, picking out their bones and using them in a ritual to bind another corpse to her. It worked…I suppose, since the corpses did reanimate but they did not survive for long.”

“W-why?” Pangu asked.

“Why did they not survive for long?”

That was not, exactly, what he had intended but he was curious about that as well so he nodded.

“According to May and her…mentor…the souls were not a match and the magic, or whatever, was not strong enough.” Kaz lifted his shoulders and then let them droop with a sigh. “She had hoped to raise something of an army at one point but I suppose one especially powerful corpse is good enough as well.”

They looked at one another for a long moment, both contemplating two very separate matters. Pangu wondered why May was so insistent on this method for whatever she needed help with. He knew it was something to do with her parents, which he had gathered through context, but he had yet to be told what, exactly, he would be doing for her.

Kaz’s mind was a bit simpler, it seemed, as he said, “At least you do not smell like the others.”

Pangu blinked a few times and then turned his head to the side to smell himself. There was a faint floral scent—perhaps lavender—as well as a whisper of salt but that could have very well been from the air around them.

“The others were rotting,” he continued, “Disgusting…rancid. You at least look alive…even if you are not.”

The merits of that were still strange to Pangu as well. He could feel his heart pumping blood and his chest expanded with every breath he took. Though he could not remember what it felt like to breathe and be alive before, he assumed it was not much different to now. It was hard to imagine being any other way.

“W…what….d-does May want…me…t-to do?” Pangu asked after a moment, proud of how much he was able to enunciate, even if it pinched his throat and left him feeling sore.

Though, if he kept practicing like this, he hoped he might be able to talk just fine. Maybe then no one would suspect him of being dead at all.

Kaz’s eyebrow quirked and he realized that neither he, nor May, (nor anyone else) had actually told the dead man of his mission. They usually never came so far as to have the chance. “Oh…right.” He cleared his throat. “I am sure she will fill you in tomorrow but, seeing as how the princess can be a little…scatter brained sometimes, she will probably leave a few details out. It, in fact, might be best if I just inform you now and she can give you a refresher tomorrow.”

Pangu nodded and leaned against the side of the bed, feeling a bit faint and tired. The second his palm touched the throw blanket, however, Kaz jumped forward.

“Do not sit on my bed!” He pushed him to the side, with that same face he had shown earlier. Like he was diseased. Even when he touched Pangu’s arm while completely covered in armor and gloves, he still curled his lip up. “Just because you do not seem dead does not mean I want a dead body touching where I sleep.”

So, Pangu continued to stand, shifting his weight between feet—a pretty poor substitute for being able to sit down.

Kaz quickly recovered from his outburst although he did rub his hand along the side of his armor as if to wipe away the germs. “Anyway, as you already know, May is a princess. She is the heir to the throne of Enlil.”

“Of Mythos,” Pangu said, surprising himself.

“…Yes…how did you know?”

“I smelled the sea,” he explained. In his mind, he could see a fuzzy image—a map—and he could pinpoint where they must be.

“Do you remember something…?”

Pangu shook his head. “I k-know that there are two capitals. Mythos on Ven and Sayd in Kalia. They have b…been at odds for a while. Sayd is n-newer and wishes to take over…”

“I would say that counts as remembering something,” Kaz argued, “Nothing personal but if you remember current affairs then that makes your job easier.”

“Does May want war?”

“No, not really.” He went back to crossing his arms. “Her issue is with her parents. They wish to marry her to the Prince of the Oma family. The Xiang…well, the new one, apparently, has asked that they unify Enlil so that we can have a stronger force against Shakti when the time comes.”

The words stung in Pangu’s head. He cringed and shook his head. “I…it cannot be so simple…”

“That is what May thinks,” Kaz replied but then tilted his head to the side, “Well, maybe not exactly. Mostly, she just does not want to marry the guy. She does not even want to rule. But her station is what it is and she cannot change it unless her parents were to…change their minds. Diplomacy—or, May’s version of it—has not worked so she seeks to resort to force.”

“So…” Pangu frowned. “I am to threaten…o-or kill her parents?”

“It should not come down to killing them. That would be very…inconvenient for May and the country.” He did not seem convinced as he spoke.

“The war would be decided,” Pangu offered, off-handed.

Kaz actually snickered though it was hard to tell with the hard expression still on his face. If anything, it sounded more like a hiss. “That is one way of looking at it.”

“What else…d-did the Xiang ask May to do…?”

The sudden jump backward in conversation took Kaz by surprise. He had clearly not expected Pangu to talk so much, especially after just relearning how to. He had not expected his mind to be working so quickly either.

“Um, well, I was not there. Neither was May, actually, the King and Queen just relayed the message.” He tapped his gloved index finger against the chainmail on his bicep. “She has been by twice, I think. Once to ask us if we could spare soldiers for a scrimmage on Kyrie’s border. The Oma family helped more with that since they were closer and all. Then, she came back to suggest an end to our civil war—the marriage. I thought it felt a bit like a child’s solution but the King and Queen are not opposed to it.”

“Because the Xiang suggested it…?”

“Maybe.” Kaz shrugged. “They are far more religious than any of us.”

Pangu frowned. He could not hold back his next words, as if they were being spoken directly by his soul. “The Xiang is supposed to avoid politics.”

Kaz raised an eyebrow high as he regarded him. “Truly? Well she clearly does not follow that rule.” He then dropped his arms and shifted his weight. “Then again, according to that Parvati woman, the Gods or what-have-you, killed you for disobedience and did their damndest to erase you from existence. I imagine that was harder in places you actually went to and not like here where we only saw ‘the Xiang’ recently. We knew that one had been born but I suppose she just introduced herself as you…in a way.”

He felt sick but did not know why, not exactly. A nagging in the back of his mind told him that the marriage suggestion was not all it seemed. That there was a dagger hidden under a cloak.

“If she…if she is lying about that…what else could she lie about?”

“Good point.” Both of Kaz’s eyebrows rose that time. “The marriage. Maybe it is not so simple.”

Pangu was glad they could agree on something, especially something so, potentially, important. If the marriage plans were a cover for something else, he wondered what the Xiang’s true plans were. The warning in his gut told him all sorts of things but they were mostly shadows—threats—he had no real idea.

If he could remember anything from before his death, he knew that would help. But, so far, straining was getting him nowhere.

The soft clanking of Kaz’s armor made Pangu look up. He watched as the man looked toward him and then past him, out the window.

“Shit, I only have a few hours to sleep before work. I talked for too long.”

Pangu continued to watch him as he paced to the opposite end of the room and began to remove his armor. He started with the greaves and bracers then moved onto the belt, and then the breastplate. Metal and some bunches of fabric were tossed to the floor until only a thin under shirt and undergarments were left. He was quite thin outside of all the armor but there were curves that Pangu could see through his clothes that showed lean, firm muscles. His legs, especially, were long and elegant but, besides them, he found himself staring at his cinched waist and the toned glutes below.

Kaz turned around and, immediately, recoiled. “Do not just watch me like that! It is creepy.”

“Oh…” Pangu felt warm in the face and he turned to the side, obviously too late. “Sorry.”

“I surely hope you were not like this when you were alive,” Kaz grumbled and walked to his bedside.

A lump formed in Pangu’s throat which he tried, in vain, to swallow. “Um…where…should I sleep?” He knew he was not allowed on the bed and he assumed similar rules were in place for the rest of the furniture as well. “The floor?”

“Anywhere but my bed.”

He turned away as Kaz actually climbed under the sheets, not wanting to be scolded any further. While he heard the creaking and groaning from the bed, he lowered himself to the floor. He found a carpet that lay over the cold stone and he dragged it to the side so he could lay on something somewhat comfortable.

It did not help much and Pangu could feel each individual stone as he turned. He kept on his side and stared up at the window, watching the curtains once more.

As exhausted as he felt, the idea of sleep was deeply troubling. All he could think was that, if he let his consciousness slip away again, he would never come back. Everything that had been done to revive him would be for naught and he would return to that confining void for the rest of eternity.

Pangu curled into himself and kept his eyes open, not even wanting to risk it. His mind was probably too busy to allow him to sleep anyway but he focused on the window and the few stars he could see from it. Occasionally, a cloud would pass and he would try to find shapes in it to stay distracted.

[dec152016]

I dont remember the exact date, but I do know our "formal introduction" was around this time almost 12 years ago.

I forgot about the meeting itself for a while but the impact it had on me and who I am was so profound, to take that night from me would make me into a different person entirely, so I wanted to talk about it a little on here, that's really what this blog is for

for some context: I was living in a motel (sunrise inn) and I was at that age where reality was starting to chip at all of that childlike wonder and wide eyed naivety that makes those primary school years so special.

that night in particular was a big point for me because I was realizing a lot about my life. How lonely it was. I had an interaction where I realized how invisible I was to the people around me. Resentful that they were obligated to take care of me. it felt like a part of me died with that. it was like my heart gave up. (typing that made other members if my family make a little more sense) the last thought on my mind as I fell asleep were about not making it to school in the morning. about how easy it would be to walk Into the highway the inn was off of.

The dream started with just me and Uriel, she explained to me that just because my family didnt love me didnt mean I was unlovable

I dont remember too much

but I remember You there, and the way your eyes glowed, like they were bioluminescent

and I remember hearing my name for the first time and being like "that's MUCH better" (I hadn't taken issue with the name i was using before that but it didnt sit right with me after)

by the time I woke up my heart and spirit were resurrected and then some, with little more than a new hope that roared inside me like the sun which to this day I hold onto like a scared child with their teddy bear and the sense that the constant barrage of shit I was living through was a sacrifice I was making so I could have a good life when I got older. (also a fixation on the pokemon protag)

the dream drifted into the aether like most dreams do, aside from a moment later in the day of deja vu where I was reminded of just you and I had to take a quick break from cutting out the paper bat to smile to myself. that was the first time I wrote anything other than my legal name on anything.

[lholland14]

Meeting the Fam (Binoe x toddler!reader)

Binoe x toddler reader where the Team meets super shy reader after a football game. Reader is like small and cute but fast as hell and in the end runs around with a couple player

Sue Bird and Megan Rapinoe. The power couple of sports. The outgoing couple who are never one to shy away from their feelings, somehow had me as their kid.

The shy kid, the one who would rather sit in the corner and read.

It sucked at times, everyone telling me "Why don't you have friends?"

"Don't you want to talk to people?"

The truth is, I don't. It's not that I don't want to, it's that I can't. I don't understand it.

I don't understand my momma's incessant chatter, I just don't understand people.

Why are people constantly giving my mommies plants?

Why do people scream so much?

I can't deal with them.

Maybe that's why the first year I was with my mommies they thought I hated them, until they noticed how I would grimace every time Megan shouted, every time Sue bounced a basketball excessively hard on the floor.

I hated the noise.

Which leads me to the question of why would me mommies bring me to this profound event full of noise.

"Meg? Y/N/N? We gotta go." Sue loudly said, looking around as she walks down the hall.

Sue finds you in the same position you were always in except Megan had joined you. She shook her head before giving her wife and amused smile, "Let's go, children. We can't be late to your game."

"Mommy!" you whine, "One more chapter."

"Megan, tell our daughter that we need to go." Sue sighs.

Megan looks at Sue with a tilted head, "But she has one more chapter." she replied with a sillier tone as you.

Sue glared at her, "Okay, okay. C'mon bubs, you can read more in the car."

------

Car rides were your favourite, as you plane rides. For a certain amount of time, everyone and reverting was just how you liked it. Quiet.

Megan on the other hand was the opposite of what you liked. And mixed with the radio was a nightmare.

She sang to genres from Frozen, to Dua Lipa, to Taylor Swift to BTS. You and Sue both agreed to sneaky put on ear plugs whenever Megan was in charge of the radio.

"Lots of people go, Mommy?" you ask after around 15 minutes in the car, to try to shut up your momma.

Sue smiles, looking back at you from the mirror, "Theres always a good amount of people there. If you get bored, we brought your books and some toys."

You nod, "They loud Mommy?"

"Yeah, bubs." she replies, "But usually only when they score."

"So like all the time." Megan add on exaggerating the 'all' earning a hit from her loving wife.

You giggle and hit you Megan as well, but it ended up as more of a pat on the back.

You and Sue burst out laughing as Megan acted insanely wounded from your blow.

Finally Megan looks over her shoulder and laughs, "Crazy child." while rubbing her back.

You shrug, bouncing up and down in your seat. Excited, but nervous for the game.

------------

The three of you climb out of the car and your eyes immediately widen at the amount of people you see.

"Wow," you mumble.

Your mom takes your hand, "Lots of people, huh?" Megan kneeled down to whisper in your ear.

You nod absent mindedly as you were still taking in the vast amount of strange faces.

The two sport stars lead you through a series of doors before finally reaching a  medium sized platform with a great view of the field. Sue swung you onto a comfy chair with a cushion on it before settling onto her own.

"Where you go" You asked wide eyed as Megan had stepped out the door.

She looked at you, then walked over to where you were sitting "Do you see that field?"

You nodded.

"Well, that's where I'll be"

"Why?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

Sue chuckled and messed up your hair "She's playing sweetheart."

You pouted, but was quickly distracted by watching the fans form a wave.

As you were watching the wave you missed the loving gaze Megan shot at you, before slipping out the door.

------

"Why are you so late?" Julie shot a look at Megan, before looking at her watch.

"I had to deal with something." Megan waved the questions away, and joined the huddle

"1, 2, 3 USA!" We all shouted.

It was France vs USA.

In short, we won. As usual.

0-1, the screams were incredibly loud, but momma let me wear my head phones so it was okay.

------

When it was all over momma brought me over to a room and told me to wait there while she got mommy.

I  decided to finish my book, but someone interrupted me. I briefly considered murder, but decided against it when the thought of how bad it would look on my record.

"Help you?" I asked annoyed

"Huh? Oh, um I was just wondering if you were okay." the girl replied. She was pretty, with her blue eyes and brown hair. However her voice was something that interested me. It was nothing like I had ever heard before.

"Alex!" Another girl yelled "Come on! Megan said she had a surprise for us."

The blue eyed girl spared a glance at me before walking towards the other girl who was yelling.

After a couple more minutes of peace, momma came back but this time with mommy and another girl.

"Hey bubs" Megan greeted you in a high voice that always put a smile on your face

"So this is the infamous Y/n." The girl next to Megan stuck out her hand to shake "I'm Kelley"

"Hewyo" I gave her s shy toothy grin.

"Whats up?" Two other girls walked over to us. One was short, but the other looked like a giant.

"Sam, Kristie meet my daughter Y/n." Megan gestured over to me.

This pattern continued. People coming over and Megan introducing them to me.

Soon I met everyone, but still continued to hide from them until I saw one of the staff picking up some loose soccer ball on the field so I decided to help him.

It wasn't until Kristie noticed I was gone when Sue and Megan began looking for me.

They found me playing pass with Alex and Kelley.

"Hey kiddo! Over here!" Kristie yelled grabbing the attention of the toddler. Quickly she passed the ball over to Kris, and ran over to her to try to block her and get the ball back.

"Sam" Kristie shouted "I need back up! This kid is good."

"Coming, Sonnett come here"

As Kristie was distracted by her younger sister, you quickly stole the ball and ran towards the goal

"Dang she's quick." Lindsey said in awe

"She's like a mini you Kelley" Crystal teased

"What no, she's way to shy. If anything more like a Tierna" Rapinoe mused

Tierna laughed as Sonnett pouted when you scored a goal, and walked over to help retrieve you from Sam's arms.

You were laughing as Sam spun you around in celebration, when she put you down you ran over to Tierna.

"She's the Flash." Alex jokingly told Christen who rolled her eyes but went to join in the fun anyways.

Finally, after an hour later it was time to go. Instead of your usual behaviour of acting like they saved you from a disaster you were pouting.

You were pouting because you liked those girls, and your mommas could tell.

"Don't worry bubs, we'll see them again tomorrow." Megan reassured you.

"Really?" You asked, instantly brightening.

"Really" Megan replied.

“Okay, I tired now,” you say, rubbing your eyes.

Sue grins, “Come here,” she says, crouching down.

You run into her arms, hugging her neck. She picks you up and you rest your head on her shoulder.

Megan just smiles, watching as you slowly fall asleep on her wife's shoulder.

She stealthy takes a photo, but Sue saw and smiles at the camera. Megan quickly post it and captions the picture, 'Finally met The Fam. Peace out USA, Flash out'