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#torment chapter 4
reneesbooks · 4 months
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lacuna daily snippet day 5
chapter 9, the city guard, examines keelan's spiral after he is banished from the castle. he ends up getting a job as the captain of the city guard since the old one was promoted to the royal guard (wonder why...) here's him drinking with vonnie about it.
"There's a great pub down the street from my flat,” Vonnie says, clapping his shoulder. “Let me buy you a drink?”
Keelan holds in a long sigh. “Fine.”
So he finds himself seated at the bar, a glass of something that smells lethal sitting on the counter in front of him. Vonnie is already laughing, joking with the bartender and an identical glass. He takes a hesitant sip and gags, his throat burning.
“Oh,” Vonnie says, observing his plight. “Annie, sweetheart, I think my friend here needs something a little more dilute.” She winks at the bartender. “He doesn't have my constitution.”
Annie replaces the glass of poison with one of strong red wine. Vonnie chugs his abandoned glass and asks for another.
“I'll be honest, O'Leyne, I wasn't sure what to expect when I found out you wanted the captain job.” She tips her head at him as he lifts his wine to his lips and drinks. “There's a lot of stories out there about you.”
“And you want to know if they're true?”
“A little, yeah.” She shrugs. “I wanted to be a bard when I was younger and I still like songs. Lots of them about you.”
“I didn't kill the Immortal Thieves of Cág.” He squints at the bottom of his glass. “At least, not on purpose.”
“Refill, love.” Vonnie smiles at Annie. “Bring the bottle. The captain here sounds like he's going to need it.” She turns back to Keelan. “But you did kill them?”
“I killed twelve men who had burned my village down.” Keelan rubs his eyes. “I don't think they were anything more than men. Evil men, but still men.” He takes a large gulp of wine. “They smelled the same as all the other bodies.”
“Gross,” Vonnie says flatly. “They say you walked three months straight, never stopped.”
“Not true. I slept in barns and had to do odd jobs for food, and sometimes farmers would give me a lift.”
She hums, tapping the bottom of her glass on the counter. “There's a rumor about you and the queen.”
He flinches and quickly swallows the rest of his drink. He should have known—everyone would be gossiping about his banishment, his betrayal, his eye. It was inevitable that somebody would ask. He reaches up to set his fingers on the bandages hidden by the patch. “I'll bet there are a lot of rumors about me and the queen.”
His voice comes out sharp and Vonnie raises her hands defensively. “Don't kill me for being curious, O'Leyne. It's an old rumor, anyway. Years back they said you bought a ring in South Town and married the crown princess in secret.”
Keelan almost laughs. “No. It's not true.” He presses his hand flat to his face. “It was a gift for her birthday. She stopped wearing it years ago.”
He thinks of her voice after Leo's ball—if I could, I'd...it wouldn't have to be like this. The way she'd spun the ring on her finger as she made hard decisions during the witch trials. The way her fingers had touched the empty space where it should have been as she banished him.
“Are you in love with her?”
Keelan pours himself another glass of wine. “What would it matter if I was?”
“People are afraid of you,” Vonnie says, so seriously that Keelan turns to look at her. “You've gained a reputation for severe brutality on the queen's orders. I've heard stories about that, too.” Her gaze flicks to the left side of his face. “I find myself wondering why you would do all of that for her so unflinchingly.”
Keelan looks away. “I was a devoted soldier,” he says bitterly. He quiets. “I suppose I still am.”
“She made you take out your own eye.”
“No,” Keelan says, pressing his fingers into his cheek just below the empty socket. “No, I chose to do that.” He presses harder, until the wound aches and burns. “What good is devotion if it doesn't destroy you?”
Vonnie slams back her drink. “You're a fucking bummer, O'Leyne.”
lacuna taglist: @serenanymph @lyssa-ink @oh-no-another-idea @lena-rambles @ashen-crest @tragicbackstoryenjoyer @serpentarii @allianaavelinjackson
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thequeenofsarcaasm · 3 months
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I won’t be able to sleep well until I write that fic about Geto’s experience as a trans man
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aceofthefandoms · 1 year
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I was just going to reblog Chapter 1 for context for people who haven't read the fic (as I am currently tormenting Atherix with it) but uh
apparently I tagged chapter 2 and 3 differently soooo guess I'm reposting chapter one as I literally can't remember how i tagged it
Everything is over. The Hermits are back on Hermitcraft, and Emperor Grumbot was destroyed, immediately shattering the rift.
...There's just one problem.
Grian, in trying to save Grumbot, is now trapped in Empires with no way home, and no way to contact Hermitcraft.
In a POV swap between the Empires server and Hermitcraft server, both servers will have to figure out how to get a certain pesky bird back home.
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cometrose · 11 months
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please never ever delete fanfiction because you never know when you’re going to have a fandom relapse and start reading fics from a fandom you haven’t thought about in 10 years
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astro-b-o-y-d · 11 months
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Edited all the way to page 26 today in my prologue draft, which means that hopefully soon, I’ll be able to move on to finishing up the final draft for the first chapter.
Maybe I’ll actually get something posted this year 😔✌️
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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 7 months
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ℑ𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔇𝔦𝔰𝔤𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 - ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 կ
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dravidious · 11 months
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You're the most amazing kitty of
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Mentioned this already today but this card in Brawl is very silly. If the opponent doesn't stop you by the time you get to chapter 3 you just win
#asks#it's a very simple proposition: either your opponent kills you first (hard to do because of all the removal spells)#or they have removal#killing urabrask once or twice is usually enough to win the game#the deck is Not Good without urabrask#but if they DON'T have removal then they just helplessly die in an inferno of compleat torment#and after chapter 3 urabrask returns#and chapter 3 lets you cast all your spells again so you can easily flip urabrask again and just keep the chain going forever#improved this deck this morning after some games and the improvement process was just going all in on urabrask#no backup plans no alternatives just pour more fuel into the furnace#i had some 4-drop permanents before that gave value for casting instants and sorceries#now i don't because i ALWAYS want to cast urabrask on turn 4#i had Seize the Storm to get a big beatstick#took it out because it's too expensive to get 3 spells cast#just focus everything on flipping urabrask#it definitely helped that i got matched up against the worst players on the planet#like seriously what happened this morning?#not even just in brawl the people on ranked were also playing terribly#honestly the deck would've probably lost a lot if my opponents had removal for urabrask#i can only win if they let me untap with urabrask and they just kept letting me get away with it#i also was playing mono-red aggro in ranked and some of my opponents just. didn't block#they were bleeding out and had creatures but they didn't trade to take down my attackers#they just sat there and let me kill them#got two opponents like that
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andaniellight · 1 year
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Me, after every sentence I wrote down on my wip: now what
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azrielbrainrot · 3 months
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I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 2
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.
Warnings: Angst, mentions of blood, injury
Word Count: 6670
Notes: The original plan wasn't to write more of this story but I had a few ideas of where to take this and decided to turn it into a mini series, don't think it will be longer than 3-4 chapters. Also I don't know if the HoW has cells in the books but it does here and they're normal, not dungeon-y like, and the story is set after acosf but Amren never got turned into fae because I like her better like this. A lot of people liked the first part so I really hope this one doesn't disappoint. I hope you enjoy!
Part 1 ○ Part 3
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Azriel was at the townhouse before he even fully realized what was happening. Didn't even give anyone an explanation, simply letting his shadows take him, barely hearing the questioning cries of his name. He didn't need to hear anything else aside from your name to know that's where he should be, his body moved before he even had time to formulate the thought.
Your sweet scent invaded his brain before he even arrived at the house. He'd be able to recognize it anywhere, he'd longed for it for so long after all. Every day when he opened his eyes, he hoped he would wake up to your scent floating around this house as it once did, as it did right now. He's not one to go into anything blindly, to run head first and only think about the consequences later, but this felt like his last chance. The loneliness that had settled deep in his soul had been replaced with hope with one word.
His shadows move to different corners of the room as soon as he's dropped off, leaving him uncharacteristically naked, unguarded. Even the shadows that would form naturally from the faint glow of the moon seemed to move off his face. They wanted him to enjoy this moment in full, this was his and only his.
In truth he barely noticed them leave, too preoccupied with the figure in front of him. He wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't witnessing it with his own eyes. How many times had he been haunted by this exact vision in his dreams? There you were standing in the sitting room, shining like a goddess under the moonlight filtering through the windows. You hadn't changed since the last time he saw you, only had gotten even more mesmerizing if anything.
Your hair was a bit shorter than you usually wore it, the tight pants a contrast to the usual short skirts you preferred. Then there was a scar running across your neck, even with the distance and darkness in the room he could tell it ran from ear to ear. It was a painful reminder of what you've been through, of the night he couldn't protect you. But it meant this was real. You were actually standing in front of him. This was something he had dreamed of many times, almost every night since you've been gone.
He calls your name and it feels amazing. Just the sound of your name leaving his lips, not in mourning or wistfulness but as a greeting, is enough to bring a face splitting grin to his face. Gods, he missed saying your name without almost feeling suffocated by the weight that formed in his chest.
You startle at the sound, seemingly not expecting company at the house. He has no time to study the strange expression on your face though, he needs to touch you first, to feel your skin against his, your warmth against his body, your heart beating behind your ribcage. He needs to make sure this is real and not some cruel dream or hallucination his mind thought up to torment him. He needs you to be really back.
As soon as your eyes meet his form, he clears the distance between you in two hurried steps, but, before he can hug you, he feels your hand reach out to him. He doesn't even have time to realize you're reaching towards his thigh, to Truth Teller. He doesn't know if it was confusion holding him back, the strangeness of the whole act or if he's simply willing to take anything as long as it comes from you, but he makes no movement to stop you from grabbing his knife, allowing you to pierce it through his stomach, never so much as looking away from your beautiful face or even flinching at the blade.
He can feel every inch of the dagger inside him, can feel the blood quickly seeping through his shirt. Still, the pain in his gut can't hold a candle to the relief and joy running through his veins. You're real. The knife went through, so you have to be real. He can clearly hear your heartbeat now as well, it sounds strong aside from how fast it's going.
Azriel reaches a hand out to you again, slower as not to startle you. He can't help the fluttering of his own heart as you finally let him make contact with the softness of your skin. You haven't moved your hands from the knife, your wide eyes staring at your now blood covered hands. He caresses your cheek lovingly and tilts your face up so he can meet your eyes at last.
He can tell something is wrong, as if it hadn't been glaringly obvious by his favorite knife currently stuck in his stomach. Your eyes seem unfocused, a bit panicked, maybe even angry. But he can't bring himself to care in this moment.
He doesn't know if this is your revenge for letting you die, for not finding you, or even if this is what you had wanted out of him from the start, maybe your whole relationship had been a lie. It doesn't matter. He'll gladly die at your hands if that's the fate you chose for him. At least he'd spend his last moments with you, a privilege he didn't think he would have the pleasure of experiencing.
His heart threatens to stop altogether when your eyes meet, it feels like time stopped around him. “You're home, my love,” he breathes out, letting out a soft disbelieving chuckle, “You're finally home.” He raises his other hand to your face, caressing both your cheeks with his scarred thumbs, he almost forgot how soft your skin felt against his rough hands. He's been clutching at faint memories for decades.
His smile falters when his thumb moves down, stroking down your jaw to the column of your throat, where a scar runs across your neck. He watches his thumb following the clean line, his scars had always been awful reminders of what was done to him, it ate at him even five centuries later, but seeing yours hurt even more. You should have never known this kind of pain.
“What?” Your voice was barely a whisper, confusion and fear holding it hostage. He looks back up into your eyes, seeing the same emotions swim in your gaze even more heightened. He didn't like that, you would never have any reason to be scared of him. He goes to tell you as much when he feels power surging into the room.
“Azriel?” Cassian's voice cuts through the moment and he has to close his eyes to keep himself calm. He wanted more time with you, wanted to talk to you before they got here, before they saw the blood but had gotten too distracted. His mind wasn't working properly, his thoughts were all over the place, he wanted nothing more than to hug you but was too aware of how strangely you were acting. He couldn't keep you and his family in check, not with every instinct inside him screaming to just pick you up and winnow you to the other side of the world.
He calls his shadows to him, a desperate attempt at hiding his injury. He knows it's in vain when he feels Rhys let go of the damper on his power, letting the suffocating night fill up the room. You look positively terrified now, he can even smell it mixing in your sweet scent. Letting go of your face, an act that takes more effort than he could imagine, he turns around slowly, trying to be mindful of keeping you covered, protected from his family.
Your hands don't stop holding onto the dagger, as he moves away from you, the force of it is enough to pull it out of his stomach and let the blood run free with no resistance. The pain was getting worse, it didn't look like you hit any vital organs but his healing wasn't fast enough to keep it at bay on its own.
Feyre is the first to move towards him when she sees the blood, but he simply holds up a hand, effectively stopping her in her tracks. Trying to keep a leveled head was proving to be a near impossible task as he saw the anger in everyone's faces, it was directed at you. He holds onto his abdomen, the pain was making itself known.
Seeing Azriel stop his mate from approaching, Rhys walks closer to the shadowsinger himself. His face was a mix of regret and fury as he spoke up. “What happened here, Azriel?” If his mind was in the right place he would have noticed the restraint his brother was showing at seeing him bleeding out in his house, restraint only present because of his own feelings towards you. Unfortunately, Azriel's instincts were winning against logic.
He hears you finally drop Truth Teller behind him, your body must have started listening to you when Rhysand got too close, recognizing him as a threat. He makes the mistake of looking back at the knife, not hearing the snarl that curls his brother's lips in time. Rhys winnows behind him in that moment and you had gotten too close to the window for him to reach you.
“Don't touch her,” he warns Rhys viciously. He doesn't want to think what he was capable of if anyone hurt you again, even if it was his own brother.
He sees you fall to the floor before he registers what happened. His heart almost leaps out of his throat, letting out an anguished cry of your name as he runs to you, pushing his brother out of the way and holding you up from the ground. Searching for a pulse frantically, he finds you were only unconscious. A breath of relief escapes him as he pushes your hair out of your face, it almost brings tears to his eyes. You will be fine. Rhys had only entered your mind to keep you asleep and stop you from escaping. You will wake up. You will not leave him again.
He hugs you closer to him, too focused on making sure you were alright and keeping his breathing leveled to hear what they were saying behind him. He felt as helpless as when he was still a child being subjected to his father's cruelty. It takes him a while before he finally calms himself down enough to hear the argument behind him.
“Let's talk to him first,” Cassian says, the emotion clear in his voice.
“He put up a shield around them,” Rhys was sounding less like a High Lord by the word, “He's not in his right mind.” A shield? He checks the air around them to find that his brother was right, there was a shield around them both, even his shadows had moved to cover them, separating them from the world.
“Neither are any of you,” Nesta's voice cuts through everyone, finally silencing them.
“We already called for Madja,” Feyre uses the silence that settled to speak, “We can get him treated and hold her somewhere until she wakes up.”
“No,” he drops you gently on the ground, letting his shadows cover you, protect you, before turning to face his family.
Feyre hesitates before continuing, seeing something on his face that makes her choose a different approach. He never mentioned being married to her but your name had been brought up before, he knew Rhys had filled her in on what happened, still she couldn't understand what he was feeling. Even he couldn't.
“The cells under the House of Wind are safe. It's just for-”
“You will not put my wife in a cell,” the words came out clipped, slipping through clenched teeth, the shadowsinger was barely holding on to a sense of restraint against his High Lady.
“She stabbed you,” Rhys yells, looking down at the wound in his brother's torso, thankfully already starting to heal, “it doesn't matter that she used to be your wife.” The growl Azriel lets out at his brother is nothing short of vicious, a feral and lethal thing rising straight from the center of his being.
“She is still my wife,” Azriel says behind a snarl, “And you will not hurt her.” Even if it was in the clean cells of the House of Wind, he could never bear to see you caged. He was ready to go to any lengths necessary to make sure of that. If helping you escape the Night Court was what it took he knew of a few ways not to get caught.
He could see Rhys' shoulders tense up, his own face morphing to match Azriel's fury. He didn't know if his mental shields were down or if his intentions were just uncharacteristically clear on his face but he was sure that his brother knew what Azriel - his spymaster - was thinking.
“She can stay in one of the rooms up in the House,” Cassian offers quickly, trying to settle the rising tension between his brothers, “She can't winnow out because of the wards and we can watch her until she wakes up.” Deep down he knows they don't want to hurt you either, that they're only worried but it's difficult to pay attention to the voice of reason within him during this whole situation. His greatest wish had just been answered. So why does everything seem to be falling apart with it?
Mor winnows in with Madja before he can give them a response which is a good thing because anything he could come up with would probably only put you and him in a more precarious situation. There were too many emotions warring inside him, the same going around almost everyone in the room if only more intense. The healer's presence seems to dissipate most of the tension automatically as Rhys even turns to look out the window and allows his mate to hold onto his hand, probably telling him soothing words in his mind.
Madja moves to Azriel with no hesitation, only stopping briefly when she senses the shield. She merely gives him a look before he drops it so she can reach him. He knows she wouldn't hurt you, knows he needs the wound in his stomach taken care of so he can focus on you, think about what to do when you wake up.
“You need to sit down so I can treat you,” she tells him while inspecting the wound.
“I will not leave her.”
“You can trust her with us, Az,” Mor tries to reassure him, but with the way the last minutes have played out he wasn't trusting you with them, or anyone else for that matter. He'd just gotten you back, no way is he letting you out of his sight for a second, he could bleed out for all he cares.
Suddenly, he sees Nesta walk to the table and grab a chair through his peripheral. She appears to be mumbling something to herself but he can't quite hear her to understand. She walks to him and drops the chair in her hands on his right, before giving him a narrow eyed look and returning to her mate's side.
He's not sure how much she knows of the situation. The three sisters probably all know by now that he used to be married but none of them has mentioned you to him, warned by whoever told them of the consequences of doing it.
He sits on the chair and lets Madja work on him. The wound wasn't too bad, even if he didn't have access to a healer it would close in a short time. You stabbed it cleanly through, just like he'd taught you. If he hadn't been the practice dummy he might praise you for it. By the Mother, he thinks he still might. He wonders if you'll grace him with a bright smile and flushed cheeks for it like you used to.
Azriel looks over to your sleeping form under the moonlight. He's calming down enough that he's starting to feel the uncertainty bubbling inside him. Truth Teller still laid on the floor beside you, covered in his blood just as your hands were.
“Is she…” What did he want to ask? Is it really her? How did she survive? There was so much blood on the ground that night. He didn't need to be a healer to know it was too much for someone to survive with no immediate help and an absurd amount of luck. “Is it really her?” He whispered the question, not bearing to look away from you as he does.
“You know that better than me,” the healer answers calmly. He can sense some emotion in her voice. You had asked her to make tonics to help him sleep and relax many times, to teach you basic healing and how to put on bandages to help him when he was too stubborn and not gravely injured enough to go see the healer. She probably missed you as well. “She's healthy.”
He feels a rush of relief at the words. You're healthy. The confirmation allows him to relax further. Finally looking away from you to see part of his family still watching the scene before them. He knows they too were thinking about the blood, the sleepless nights they spent searching for any sign of you. His eyes meet Rhys' briefly, knowing they'll need to talk about what happened.
He closes his eyes and leans his head back, letting out a soft sigh. You're back. He never thought he'd see you again but you're right here next to him. You're not a dream or a hallucination. You're healthy. The thought almost brings a smile to his lips despite the situation. Anything else can be dealt with now that you're by his side again.
“Are you sure you don't need to rest, Az?” He looks up from the familiar ring, still twisting it around his finger. It felt right putting it back on, he was almost giddy at the sight of the silver in his finger, but it also left him with immense guilt eating at him for taking it off in the first place. He studies Nesta's face for a second, giving up on trying to decipher what she was thinking in favor of looking back at you.
When everyone calmed down enough and Azriel was treated, it had been decided that you couldn't be left alone even in the room, they needed someone to keep an eye on you. It had also been quickly added that Azriel wasn't enough, his brother had seen right through him, he knew Azriel wouldn't try to stop you from killing him or trying to escape if you put your mind to it.
Cassian and Mor refused to stand watch unless it was truly necessary. He knows they wouldn't want to be put in a position where they had to stop you, knew they would not only feel guilty for hurting you but also wouldn't forgive themselves for hurting Azriel.
Even Rhysand, used to the weight and impartiality of the High Lord's title, looked hesitant in keeping him company, he had already forcefully invaded your mind to take your consciousness away, something he had vowed never to do to his friend. He could definitely stop you both from any of the worse case scenarios but at a cost he couldn't bear to pay.
That had left him with the two trained Archeron sisters and Amren. They set shifts to make sure Azriel was never left alone with you, he thinks they might not even trust him not to take you away from the room himself and help you escape. He can't really be sure himself if he wouldn't do exactly that if you asked. He'd follow you to the end of the world and beyond just to hear you call his name one more time.
“The wound is healed,” he whispers, keenly aware of your sleeping form, a habit that came to him naturally after seeing you. You always liked to sleep in and waking you up before your time was close to a death sentence.
“That's not what I meant.” Nesta walks closer to the chair beside your bed, the one he hasn't gotten up from since tucking you into the bed carefully. She placed a hand on his shoulder and studied you for a moment, something she's been doing since her shift started. “She stabbed you,” she says in an usually hesitant tone coming from her, “Are you sure it's her?”
“I would sooner forget my own name than mistake my wife for someone else,” the words came out clipped even with him trying to hold back his anger. It wasn't her fault for being suspicious, Nesta never got the chance to meet you, barely even heard about Azriel's marriage. She just wants to protect him, protect her friend.
“Why would she hurt you then?”
“Maybe it's my punishment,” the words leave him before he can think them through. It doesn't matter anyway, they all saw the state he was in at the townhouse. No point hiding now.
“Punishment?” She took a step back from the chair to be able to face him, her perplexed face coming into view. “You didn't do anything wrong.” The notion was almost laughable. Azriel had done plenty wrong in his life.
“I didn't find her,” he whispers, facing away from his friend in favor of watching you, “She's been out there for almost a century, on her own,” he clenched his fists at the thought, “and I didn't find her.”
“I know you looked for her as best as you could. I know you all did.” And what good did his best do?
“You don't understand, Nesta,” he says as he looks down at the ring once again, closing his eyes briefly at the burn he felt in his head. He didn't want to talk about this anymore, didn't want to explain his feelings to any of them.
“I do,” she starts, “If something happened-”
“If,” he cringes at how he raised his voice, immediately looking over to your sleeping form to make sure he didn't disturb you, and then added more quietly, with the same conviction in his tone, “If something happened to Cassian you would understand. But it hasn't and so you don't.”
Nesta lets out a defeated sigh, moving back to her original seat by the window, patting his shoulder comfortingly on her way. His eyes are focused on you once more and he has no intention of letting them stray until you wake up, and long after you do.
⋆。°✩°。⋆
You wake up slowly, your mind aware of your near consciousness before your body can follow. It feels like you've never been this deeply asleep, even the dreams that usually haunt you were quiet. Perhaps that's why it takes you so long to remember your current situation, it could also be the strangeness of it. You keep your eyes closed as your body and mind slowly come to.
You didn't expect to be lying on a bed, an unbelievably soft bed at that, after being caught stealing from the High Lord's home and then stabbing someone from his so-called Inner Circle. You're not sure when you lost consciousness but, in the split second the High Lord stood in front of you, you were more than certain you wouldn't be able to escape death again.
The sun is high in the sky, meaning you failed your mission, not only because you had been caught but also for not getting to the meeting point on time. Whether at the hands of your captors or your employers you were already as good as dead. The thought has heat burning behind your eyelids and your throat threatening to close up.
You don't even know what happened. This whole mission had seemed above your expertise from the start. You had never been sent on a mission to Prythian and the fact that you were sent to steal from a High Lord's home, the strongest in history at that, had sowed doubts inside you from the moment you heard about your mission from your handler. That and the sinking feeling in your gut as you listened to their descriptions of the city and people working for the High Lord. Every cell on your body was trying to reject this idea.
Deciding to trust your gut, you even brought up your doubts to your superiors, going as far as asking why you were being sent to retrieve some book when there are other fae more experienced in working there. There wasn't even any time to study the place or come up with escape routes. You had never been sent into any mission like this. Your worries had been quickly dismissed. They seemed completely convinced you wouldn't be caught, that you were the only member capable of this job.
Sneaking into the city had been simple enough, there seemed to be some celebration happening since so many fae were drinking and dancing around bars and even on the street. Your uneasiness only got worse as you walked through the streets. Something was wrong, every single one of your instincts was screaming at you, but you couldn't figure out why.
You walked to an alley close to the High Lord's house and surveyed the perimeter, making sure your intel was correct and the house was truly empty. After postponing the inevitable long enough, you took a deep breath and winnowed straight into the house, and, just like your handler told you, there were no wards or shields stopping you from entering. You thought this was peculiar for a High Lord but many powerful fae think themselves invincible to the point of arrogance and at the sacrifice of their own safety.
As you walked quietly through the hallway, your feet seemed to have a mind of their own, carrying you into a big room with sofas and a fireplace instead of the office you were supposed to be already searching through. You had the same feeling of deja vu as when you were walking through the illuminated streets before, something about the portraits on the walls and the peculiar chairs had your heart sputtering in your chest. It was an intricate design but you could swear you'd never seen anything like them before.
You moved closer to the window, far enough that no one could see you through it, and looked down at the city once more. Taking in the lights, the colorful houses and the fae cheerfully walking around the streets despite the late hour. There is no place like this in Montesere, not even close, so you don't understand how you could be confusing it, you really feel like you've been here before. Everything down to the names of the stores and smells wafting through the air look strangely familiar.
As you got lost in your thoughts, you had completely forgot about your mission. Letting your guard down, enough so that you didn't hear or feel anyone's presence in the same room until you heard them call out someone's name. The sound had goosebumps traveling through your entire body, your breath getting stuck in your throat. What scared you the most wasn't even the fact that you had just been caught but that voice, that name, almost brought tears to your eyes.
You stood frozen for a moment before turning around slowly and your entire body went still at what you saw. The male in front of you was the same one that haunted your dreams ever since you could remember, you would recognize that figure, those wings, those eyes anywhere.
You almost doubted you were awake at all but when he moved closer to you, standing in front of you before you could even blink, your body moved to protect yourself on instinct, to do as you had been taught at the guild. Your movements were a lot slower than usual, almost like something inside you was trying to stop you from hurting him but you had still managed to grab the long knife strapped to his thigh and stab it through his stomach in one clean movement.
The knife went in smoothly and he simply took it without trying to stop you or even letting out a sound. You've taken countless times before, killing was part of your life, of your job, but watching his blood run and coat your hands had made you feel incredibly guilty. You couldn't move, couldn't even let go of the knife.
When his hand reached to touch your face - a movement you didn't even register until his rough skin came in contact with your cheek - your wild eyes had met his and, suddenly, it felt like the world was spinning. The bright hazel was so familiar you could cry. He'd been starring in your dreams for so long but you'd never seen him quite this close. As you slowly let your mind catch up to you, you noticed he was smiling.
“You're home, my love,” he whispered softly. Your heart had felt like it was going to beat out of your chest at that point. You were missing something, a piece of information that felt like it was swimming right on the edge of your brain, but you couldn't quite reach it. His hands had both moved to cup your face by the time you found your voice.
“What?” What is going on? Who are you? Why do I feel like I know you? Why is your touch so familiar? My love? Your brain was filled with questions but you couldn't even find it in you to ask them. Couldn't look away from his eyes, the former joy seen in them giving way to something else.
“Azriel?” Both of you had tensed at the voice behind him. It seems he didn't hear anyone else arrive either, too caught up in each other and whatever mysterious tension was tying you together.
Your hands had tightened around the dagger on instinct, you could feel the power rippling through the room. You should have ran away while it was only him, he had let you stab him so maybe he would let you run away as well. But, as night incarnate filled the room, you knew every chance you had at an escape was lost.
The rest of the events were a blur, one moment you were watching more and more people winnow into the room, sending your heart further into disarray, and the next the High Lord himself stood in front of you with fury and what looked like disappointment etching his features, and then everything went dark.
As your memories from the night before fade, you become more aware of your surroundings. You could hear two separate breaths close to you, could smell two distinct scents, you suppose it was lucky enough that they had let you sleep on a bed, it's only natural they'd have someone keeping watch.
If they'd been watching you this whole time they would have to know you were awake by now, so you open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times to adjust to the brightness in the room. You study the intricate gold designs on the dark navy ceiling. Why did even the ceiling seem familiar? It feels like you are losing your mind.
Your head turns to the nightstand, where a cup of water sat over a flower shaped lace coaster. You almost gulped at the sight of it, your throat was so dry you weren't sure you could speak, but you were in a stranger's house, one you had tried to rob the night before, there had to be a catch somewhere and you didn't want to end at the cruel hands of poison.
Two pairs of eyes burned into you, and since you're not going to drink anyway, you decide that there's no delaying this confrontation any more. You turn to look at them, not surprised at finding the winged male sitting close to your bed, but he was accompanied by someone else, something else.
You sit up in bed slowly, not wanting to appear as a threat and startle them into thinking you had intentions of escaping or attacking you. You really didn't know why they hadn't just dumped you in a dark dungeon - you heard about their less than kind reputation before coming here - but you wanted to keep in their good graces if you could help it. They're probably keeping you to know more about who sent you, shame you can't tell them anything, maybe they'd even let you go if you could.
When you sit up against the headboard, your eyes meet the male's immediately, as if you were called to do it. Some of the same emotions you had seen last night were still shining in his eyes, but today there was so much more, so much so that you couldn't even begin to pick them apart even with the difference of a calm mind.
Your captors don't move so you take the moment to study the male before you. He always showed up covered in shadows in your dreams, you had barely caught glimpses of his face in the almost century of seeing him. Which was a real shame if you dared to admit it. He has an exceptionally beautiful face, the sun filtering through the window was giving his tan skin an ethereal glow, his eyes shine brightly, allowing you to make up the different tones of green and brown within them. His hair was stark black, curling slightly at the ends.
You had noticed the large wings that stood at his back the first time you'd seen him. You've never met any species of fae with wings but his were definitely peculiar. You always thought they were black but, with the brightness in the room and his shadows away, you can see they lean more to a crimson and gray-ish color. Trailing down to his torso, you notice that there doesn't seem to be any blood or sign of injury. He had already gotten healed then. For some reason, your heart calms at that and you try telling yourself it's because it might lessen the trouble you got in.
A shadow moves across him to reach up into his ear, almost like it was whispering something to him. You knew the Night Court's Spymaster was a shadowsinger, the only of its kind, but you didn't know what his shadows could do, what they could see and tell him. The hair on the back of your neck raises as his eyes watch you intently while listening to his shadow's words. They had to be talking about you. Could they read through your thoughts?
“Leave us alone, Amren.” Your eyes finally stray from the male when you hear her name, finally taking in the short creature behind him, and you almost regret it when her bright silver eyes meet yours. She was nothing short of terrifying, you think even the older assassins in the guild would feel unnerved under her gaze. You weren't even sure what she actually was but it had to be something other, something ancient and powerful. She seems displeased at the look you give her, though you doubt she's unacquainted with seeing fear on people's faces, or bothered by it.
Amren narrows her eyes slightly before looking at the male. She studies him with an intensity that could make most fae run for their lives, makes you consider it, but the male doesn't seem to care, his eyes never leaving yours. “I hope you know what you're doing, boy.” She walks out of the room with no hesitation, leaving you alone with the male that walks your dreams once again.
You stare into each other's eyes for what feels like an eternity. Neither of you seem to find the right words. You know why you're having trouble finding them. Between getting caught stealing in his house and the turmoil going on inside you, you're surprised you've been managing to keep your composure at all. But you can't understand why he'd be in the same position as you. Could he also be haunted by dreams of you the same way you were of him?
Leaning forward in his chair, he says the same name you heard last night, the one who made your heart tighten painfully in your chest. You had been too confused and scared last night to even consider it but now you can clearly see he's using it to call you. He seems to think that's your name.
“That's not my name,” you manage through your dry throat, the words coming out so rough and low that you're sure he wouldn't have heard you if it weren't for the quiet in the room. Your answer seems to hurt him, his face drops, the sunlight that was shining through his skin seems to vanish, and you see his wings tighten behind him. Your own body seems to respond to it. You want to make him feel better but you don't know how or why.
He nods almost imperceptibly, as if accepting a fact he was unwilling to, and rises up from the chair, tensing slightly when you press yourself further into the headboard. He seems to try to ignore it as he moves to the nightstand, picking up the glass and handing it to you.
You eye the glass sitting in his brutally scarred hands, momentarily wondering what could have done such a thing if he healed up from a stab wound in mere hours. He senses your hesitation but simply holds it closer to you. You look up to meet his eyes again.
“It's not poisoned,” he offers, “I promise.” You're not entirely sure why but you trust him, or maybe you were just in desperate need of water, reaching up to take the glass from him and almost drinking it in one go. He seems at least pleased enough with this, moving back to sit in his chair. As you observe his movements, you almost miss the way the glass refills on its own. You blink at it, deciding it's not worth considering, and take another slow sip.
Since he doesn't start asking you questions, apparently content enough with watching you drink, and you start to get unusually shy under his intense gaze, you start asking them yourself, seeing this as your chance to know the male of your dreams.
“What's your name?” You play with the glass as you ask, trying to appear nonchalant despite your perilous situation and the tension between you.
“Azriel,” his deep voice cuts through the silence. You repeat it, goosebumps spreading over your body at the act. Nothing is making sense anymore but his name feels right on your tongue.
You say it one more time, letting it linger in your mind. There is something inside you trying to claw its way out at the sound. You can feel it now, can feel how wrong it feels, how wrong you feel. There was a growing pressure inside your head. You let go of the glass and watch it vanish into thin air before it has the chance to make contact with the covers.
The sensation that you've forgotten something really important is back. You look up at the male one more time, seeing he has moved closer to you and noting the worry in his gaze. He wasn't supposed to be worried about you, he's a stranger and you had just stabbed him a few hours ago. So why does it feel right for him to care? Tears line your eyelids, your hands shaking slightly at the strange feelings building inside you.
“I don't know you,” you whisper, more to yourself than him, “I feel like I should.”
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menacetomany · 5 months
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jon sims is not the antichrist he's actually a jesus figure
i've been doing a lot of research into revelation for writing stuff and martin is very incorrect when he calls himself the antichrist's plus one. that's melanie. and here's why
1) the antichrist is a figure that stems from the book of Revelation, the bible's apocalypse book. But the antichrist actually had nothing ot do with the apocalypse start, and actually doesnt even show up till like 19 chapters in its insane. He's just some random dude who starts a cult, and has a False Prophet hyping him up, so the antichrist is actually georgie and the false prophet is melanie. 2) the person who actually starts the apocalypse is 'the lamb with seven horns and seven eyes, that looked like it'd been slaughtered,' which is a metaphorical representation of jesus. (Funnily enough, if you look through revelation, its actually angels doing most of the tormenting, not demons!) 3) He has literally died and woken up before, and then some time later he dies for real, just like actual jesus. Not to mention him descending into the buried--literally being buried in a cave, just like jesus was on the cross, before emerging after 3 days. Peter even explicitly calls him a 'grubby jesus'. 4) Jesus as a character is all about self-sacrifice and needless suffering to bring about a better world. Wonder What That Reminds Me Of! Even his 3-day descent into the buried is explicitly a self-sacrifical, semi-suicidal act. And on a more literal level, Jon suffering on every level possible was what was necessary to bring about the Change, and then the expulsion of the Fears from this universe (and dooming a bunch of other universes, but just as the bible doesnt spare a thought for all the people trapped in hell for eternity when describing the post-apocalyptic utopia, we're not thinking about the other worlds rn. just this one.) 5) the amount of jon fanart i've seen mistaken for jesus is truly ridiculous
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space-mango-company · 2 months
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Stranger | Chapter 2
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism
Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon
Word Count: 2k
A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao
Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.
I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!
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The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.
You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.
Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"
You shoot him a questioning look.
"I like your hairpin," he sneers.
You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.
"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.
Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.
"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."
"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."
The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.
And yet.
You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."
"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."
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The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.
"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.
"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.
"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."
Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.
"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."
"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."
Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.
You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.
"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.
"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.
Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.
The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."
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Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.
"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."
You bow your head in acknowledgment.
"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.
The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.
"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.
He smiles at your inflation of his ego.
"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."
"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.
"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."
His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"
You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.
"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.
A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."
"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.
"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."
He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.
"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."
The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.
You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.
A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.
"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.
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You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.
On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.
Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.
Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.
You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.
You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.
He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.
You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.
You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.
The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.
Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.
A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.
The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.
You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.
The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.
You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.
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Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]
Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore
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cherriesxinthespring · 2 months
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WASTELAND, BABY!– ellie williams x reader
hi! I'm writing a new series that happens after the events of TLOU II. it's an enemies to lovers. A story about ellie eventually finding happiness and love again. She finds her light; and so do you.
Before you read the summary– please read this. Free Palestine. Do not consume tlou fanfics without educating yourself about its zionist themes.
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this story is only posted on ao3. read it here.
*SUMMARY: You had decided to give life one last try. That was it. After the events in The Last of Us Part II, Ellie decides that the only way to find peace is to turn herself in to the fireflies. She finds a lead; they tell her to find you, a young woman who wanders around with no purpose. When she eventually does, you refuse to tell her where the fireflies are; if she finds them, everything that you did in your past would've been for nothing.
You embark on a journey together, walking through rain, snow and through the darkest places this cruel world has to offer. What neither of you expect, broken and traumatized, is to find the light again in each other.
"For the world is Hell, and people are on the one hand the tormented souls and on other the devils in it." (Schopenhauer, On the suffering of the world)
LINKS: read it here. playlist.
C.W/GENERAL TAGS: enemies to lovers, AFAB reader, eventual smut, gun violence, ellie kinda kidnaps you?, suicidal ideation (both ellie and reader), r! is wounded, PTSD and trauma, triggering flashbacks. canon violence in the game, depression. overall heavy themes, but happy ending i promise!
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CHAPTER 1: One last try. You encounter Ellie. She follows the trail of blood you were leaving. You refuse to give her the information she wants. So, she drags you through the entire state of Montana. "You’re bold for someone unarmed and bruised, with a gun pointed to their head"
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CHAPTER 2: Courage, dear heart. A small flame inside you ignites. you finally have a purpose; to mislead her, and to escape from her. You come up with a plan, and that involves earning her trust. just enough until she becomes sloppy. But you can't let her see your skills; she might see you as a threat. That plan quickly goes to waste when you encounter a large group of clickers.
“I could kill you right now,” she said, holding your own knife against your throat. Her knuckles were white from how much force she was using. Her features were almost unrecognisable.  “Then you’d break your promise,” you said. “Promises mean nothing in this world.” 
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CHAPTER 3: No one left to sing to The rain doesn't stop, so you and this strange girl are forced to stay inside the cave. You're feverish, disoriented. After a conversation in which she mentions the fireflies, you decide to go through her journal to find answers. And you do.
"Are you a firefly?" she asked, like she had just read your mind, or you were thinking out loud. “not a firefly,” you said. you held back a laugh, but she saw the flash of a smirk. You, the reason why they were gone after Salt Lake City, a firefly. “Definitely not.” you paused.  “are you?” you asked. “No.”
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CHAPTER 4– Your blinding light (flashback chapter)
Summer 2033, Boston QZ You waited for Hannah to come to you. Life in the QZ was simple for you; being confined in between four walls, listening to your mom's Beatles cassettes, and sneaking out past curfew. That is, until your mom slowly starts abandoning you. "Maybe Hannah was the only one you had, after all"
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CHAPTER 5– This darkness i'm condemned to
Ellie and you finally reach the nearest town. And your plan is successful; you finally lead her to danger. What you failed to account for is that this danger can harm you, too.
“took them out right?" you said, trying to test the waters. Trying to sound lighthearted, but failing completely at it.  "Damn right you did," she said.
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CHAPTER 6– The injury of finally knowing
taglist: since i impulsively deleted my old account, i'm tagging my old taglist. it's still me! the bitch that wrote the abby greys anatomy AU! you can still join my taglist here
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@kissesskittens @zahraaziza @uraesthete @elsvrse @lonelyfooryouonly @ximtiredx @ellabsprincess @spaceshipellie @machetegirl109 @sc0ttstre3ted @taylarxse @carmellie @mayfieldsz @brooklynvwilliams @rinarchy @elliesgffr @wannabwanted @ellabsweet @sapphic-and-sappy @imyour-favouritegirl @andersonsgirl @heyabimina @novadanversss @mulan-but-gay @lez-zuha @abbys-sweat-wife @maribelo-o @peppesgirl
if your name is crossed out, it means I can't tag you– please check your settings and follow these steps!
dividers by @saradika-graphics.
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Kinkmas Masterlist
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Welcome to Kinkmas everyone! This is the list and descriptions of all twelve Christmas fics I have managed to write involving either Wanda, Nat and, in some chapters, even both of them :)
All chapters include smut and most of them a large portion of tooth rotting fluff so I hope you all enjoy.
Happy December everyone and Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it <3
12 Days Of Kinkmas
1- Tis The Season For... Love? (NxR)- After stressing out over a gift you were giving to your long term crush, it seems that it really is the season for miracles to happen.
2- Naughty Or Nice? (NxWxR)- Whilst being blindfolded and tied up, your girlfriends ask you whether you think you deserve to be on the naughty list. Naively, you say no, only to fall into their trap...
3- Ugly Sweater (NxR)- Whilst coming out of the bathroom, Natasha immediately notices your new Christmas Sweater and can't hold back on her playful teasing and mentions how ugly it is. In fact, she thinks it's so ugly, you should just take it off.
4- Cookies and Cream (WxR)- Whilst attempting to bake festive cookies with Wanda, the two of you end up getting a little 'distracted.'
5- Silent Night (WxR)- After Pietro tells the boys an innocent Christmas tale, you find it extremely difficult to find any alone time with Wanda. The two of you would just have to find a way to be quiet, even when she was coming all over your tongue.
6- Snowed In (NxR)- When a blizzard hits and traps you and your wife into your new house, you both find the perfect opportunity to christen the whole house.
7- Rockin' Around The Christmas Tree (WxR)- Whilst decorating the tree, Wanda's jumper rises up and you can't stop yourself from staring, easily flustered by the woman you somehow managed to call your girlfriend. What happens when Wanda notices your constant gaze and decides to torment you?
8- Christmas Shopping (NxR)- After an eventful shopping spree with Nat for the rest of the team, you find a way to relieve the stress in the car park
9- Gift Wrapped (WxR)- Coming home from work, you expect to cuddle up with your wife on the couch and savour the warmth of the house. You certainly didn't expect the wrapped up 'gift' that was laying on the bed.
10- Let It Snow (NxR)- When a mission on Christmas Eve goes wrong and leaves you and Natasha stranded in a random cabin in the woods, you can't help but be disappointed at the way you were going to spend your first Christmas together. Natasha, however, shows you that it's not so bad being stuck together with no-one nearby.
11- The Grinch Who Stole Her Heart (WxR)- When a certain witch discovers your hate for Christmas, she can't help but try her best into convincing you to love the festive season.
12- Christmas Morning (WxNxR)- Waking up on Christmas, you can't help but stay in bed with your girlfriends, deciding presents can wait a little longer. 
I hope you're all as excited as I am ;D
Let me know what chapter you're most looking forwards to and, once again, Merry Christmas everyone! 
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Ao3- LoveIsAnImaginaryDagger
Wattpad- LovePersevering2
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tarjapearce · 6 months
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Chapter 3: Innocent As A Lamb
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader
WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Emotional distress, mild comfort, angst, subtle hints of ptsd, more character background, confrontation, lies exposed, mild physical aggression, mentions of abortion,
Summary: Miguel isn't used to consequences.
Pt. 4
A/N: Finally got this down ❤️. Hope to live up to this jskjs.
We have to talk. Meet me at the parking lot.
The message had truly confused him, he wasn't one for texting, much less engaging into something so vain and boring like making acquaintances in work, unless they provided something substantial he could use in his favor. Had someone spread out his number again?
The thought made his lips morph into a smirk. Was this another crazed woman obsessed over him he didn't know about, even though some of the lab staff knew he was engaged?
Miguel wasn't immune to gossips, yet being the reason of one, was borderline amusing. It was rare when they managed to actually divert his attention to anything that wasn't work or Dana.
The latter however seemed more vexing and pestering than usual, he truly couldn't identify a culprit. But the ways of making up kept a smile on his face for long enough until the cycle repeated itself again.
Once married things would likely turn for the worse. Dana had been already increasing her control over him and viceversa. Always caught up in the neverending power play that somehow he ended up winning with flying colors. A sore loser and a bad winner.
Thrilling at first, but now everything but fun. Miffing in fact. And it showed in his eyes whenever she wasn't around but still, she managed to sour or dull his expression either via calls or messages.
He had been with her for long enough, but the benefits she offered were way too rewarding to let go. He knew what he represented in Dana's life.
A rich, hunk and trophy soon-to-be husband.
But as long as he was left unbothered while working or having her shut up, he didn't care. In fact, he flipped a finger on life long time ago and ever since none of his irreverence and cynism stopped.
He tossed the briefcase in the car and then hopped in, after confirming a dinner date, for the umpteenth time with her future bride and torment.
She loved getting under his skin, but he enjoyed enough in getting inside her to quiet her down enough to leave him alone. It was like sex was one of the only true reasons they remained together, no matter how much they disguised it as love. A long term lust that had sufficed them both enough to go by.
Cause in truth, love had been shoved to the back of the shelf and forgotten after the two year mark. Complacency takin it's place.
A new array of seasonings like jealousy, disrespect, cheating had joined the rack, casting a deep shadow over love, pushing it to the very end of the already malnourished emotional ledge.
Straying away from what had originally brought them together yet unable to let go. Yet again complacency had made both too cozy and lazy to expand their horizons in meeting new sort of people and shaping new bonds. Perpetuating the Chernobyl-like situation brewing between the both to a new level.
He never looked back. Always moving forward either the good or bad way, but moving. Not stopping for nothing and anyone, something he had learned from the least suspecting person in his life. His biological father. Tyler had showed him through actions, and not precisely in a healthy way. He had learned all that someone must never teach a man.
Liar, deceiver, manipulator, and so many more things that one would never believe if someone said 'Miguel O'Hara is a cheater.' Way too disingenuous to keep a remarkable reputation of a recluse and engaged genetic engineer.
But of course, there was a big chance someone had messaged him by accident. He blocked the number a couple of minutes later after receiving it.
He drove away.
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"Pregnant?"
MJ's stonishment was upsetting. Not because you hadn't told her, but rather the circumstances the life changing event were conceived.
Her face paraded with so many emotions since it was hard to not feel something wrong about it, and the whole fiasco screamed and thrashed with all sorts of wrongness.
But even so, the absence of a judging stare made your senses to relax a bit, even if you were sprawled in your bed and her hands caressed your hair in a measly attempt to soothe your frying nerves. Her motherly antics paid off for a bit.
"He knows, right?"
Your silence earned a blasé sigh from the redhead.
"How is he going to know he fucked up if you don't tell him!?"
"It's not as simple as you think, MJ. He's sneaky. I sent him a text message, and surprise, he blocked the number."
Mary Jane blinked a couple of times, processing your mumblings.
"My goodness what a dick!."
"He is. Just... I'll tell him."
"Do you think he's gonna-"
"Tell me to fuck off?. That's for sure. If anything, I've already taken a choice."
"And, are you sure of it?"
With a shaky breath you sat on the bed, facing your best friend. A script writer and part of a theatrical troupe. You had met her after going on a date with a guy that was obsessed over the company's plays.
And most importantly, a mother of a one year old you had scarcely seen and met, just like her husband. Two times to be precise. In her wedding and MJ's baby shower. But her baby, a lovely girl called Mayday was always present in her phone's gallery.
"I am sure. I... I'm so not ready for this." You bit your inner cheek briefly, "I don't wanna be a mom. Much less knowing that my hypothetical child would be the next Cain."
MJ shot a confused look your way.
"You know, God punished him with a permanent mark on his forehead so none would kill him."
"Right" her ginger brow raised at your words
"But it was his way of punishing him by letting everyone know what he had done." You gestured with flailing hands in the air, "In few words, I'm sparing the child a really fucked up talk on how I met their sperm donnor."
MJ casted her eyes away, she knew things were messed up as they were, even though her mind wandered towards a curious yet forbidden territory of wondering how you'd look with a pregnant belly, she knew things just didn't work like that.
Maternity in most of the cases arrived in unexpected ways, yet, not everyone embraced it with open arms and happy tears. You had been already so brave to see the news through, even though your brain still needed to catch up with them.
MJ held your hand and pulled you closer to her. All of the people you could confide in was her. Out of everyone, she knew better than anyone what was like to be a mother. She'd call you in the verge of tears sometimes saying how much she wanted to call it quits. Empathy was one of best traits.
"No matter what you choose, I'm sure it'll be for the best. And if you want me to be there for you, I will."
"I know, thank. I... don't even wanna tell him, cause what use would be? I'm sure he doesn't even remembers-"
"Still, you must tell him. He owes you an explanation."
"Doubt he's happy or even cooperating in giving one."
Your hand was squeezed gently. There wasn't much that needed to be said, terrifying as it was the confrontation was a must. Mostly for your own closure, you needed that chapter in your life over once and for all and if it meant to look up for a new job, away from him and the mess, then so be it.
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Dread.
The bravado you had mustered a week ago was now dead, leaving a strong trepidation in its place.
In your mind, the conversation had been replayed over and over you had even learned the possible outcomes in the answer and neither of them was good or comforting.
Nauseous stomach and Bambi-like legs walked you over your work spot. Like a cage, with tiny space in between it's bars, allowing little to no room for you to try and escape.
Your body could, but the mind had already sentenced itself for a long time, imprisoned with the same thoughts over again. Miguel was your cage, and you weren't that sure you'd ever be free.
A tiny part of your reasoning cheered you to seek freedom by telling him.
The truth will set us free
Of course, but it always came with a price, and maybe you didn't have enough to pay it.
As the day marched through the eight hour's end, your thoughts gravitated with anger. Be it the hormones changing, or the constant voice telling you to confront him, brought back a little bravado you thought dead. You had asked for permission to be let go an hour earlier to intercept him.
And this time there was no escape. No more cold shoulders, no more waiting, even if your body wasn't listening to you and definitely no more niceties.
Taking your purse and the proofs of your condition in your hand, you marched towards the parking lot. Ready for a battle you were sure was lost before it started. A Leonidas versus Xerxes. 
You waited in one of the benches scattered around the place, eyes trained to the exit door. Waiting felt like forever and being pregnant surely made it worse. It was like pregnancy granted you the power to slow time, but instead of being a blessing, it was proving to be a nuisance.
But there he was, parading himself with a belittling swag as he moved through the other workers. Face blasé, jaw tightened and fist clenching tightly at a little leather folder he had smothered in his large hand.
He pulled out his keys, and deactivated the car's alarm.
You stood. Heart beating a mile per second, breathings deep and shaky, just as your steps towards him. You could run away and hide, spare him the truth and the already brewing verbal assault you were unprepared to take part in. Spare him and you the immediate disgust.
But you weren't God to forgive.
A deep exhale was taken before approaching him carefully while he fumbled with the keys on his hand. Your narrowing steps alerted him, and your shape came into view in his window's reflection.
He turned and for a second, you wished he didn't.
Deep rusty brown eyes stared at you, after recognizing your face, anger in them betraying his unbothered demeanor. The keys stopped tinkering as they were scrunched up in his fist.
"What do you want?"
You frowned, he glared. An iceberg was warmer than his own voice.
"We need to talk."
Plump lips twitched into a scowl on his frightening face.
"We've got nothing to talk about. Everything's pretty fucking clear between us. Or do you want me to spell it for you?"
"Is it really hard for you to stop being an idiot?"
A derisive 'tsk' from him while you narrowed your eyes into a glare. As he turned to face you, his arms crossed his chest, enlarging him even more, but you didn't coward. Anger rivaled your politeness, but every word that came off him made the ire tab to go skyrocketing.
"Amuse me, then."
He gestured with a hand towards you, inviting and mocking to then going back to their original position. Your lips trembled as you spoke.
"I'm pregnant."
His eyelids drooped lazily, clearly unamused yet still you had managed to pull out a genuine laugh off him.
"Dios mío..." He raked a hand over his head, shoulders shaking in little laughter, even though it all was stemmed out of an underlying doubt and rising anxiety.
"If you want money to keep it quiet, just say it."
"God, just when I think you can't go lower, here you are proving me wrong." Your anger spoke for you and he had to hold back a snort, "I don't want your money, or anything that comes from you."
The irrefutable proofs of that night, printed on those pages were shoved into his hands.
"What is this?" His voice skeptical and subtly alarmed as the clinic's logo came into his vision.
"Consequences. Care to explain how on earth that happened?"
His eyes scanned the paper, laughter and derision slowly dying the further he read on. His eyes narrowed at a certain part of the information. 9 weeks.
"So?"
His eyes glared at you to then go back to the paper and the ultrasound pictures. A little bean-like creature was growing within. A creature that had part of his DNA, forming itself with each passing day, enclosed in a comfy looking cocoon.
No.
His hands grope the paper so tight it had crumpled mercilessly under his snapping fingers. His body had turned frigid, paralized with a crashing and burning numbness spreading through his limbs. Muscles on his extensive and mountainous shoulders contracted in such rigidness, he looked liked he'd break and snap at any second.
No. No. No.
Yet they rose erratically, matching his breathings. A hand was able to let go from the paper, only to rake through his hair once more, as if trying to scruff out the chaotic thoughts. He kept looking between you and the paper.
"This..." He gulped, tasting his own words. In truth he had already forgotten about that night, but for you to return with such news was the cherry on top of a shitty day.
"Amused enough?"
"Get rid of it."
He pushed the paper back in to your hands while seething, the mere touch of them burning his skin. A biting and bitter laugh came out of your lips as your eyes glistened.
"What?"
"Get rid of it. You don't want it, neither do I. Why keeping it?"
"How. That. Happened?"
Your tone was everything but friendly, yet you were restraining in giving a piece of your mind. But his hand reached for your arm and pulled you, more like dragged you to a more secluded space, away from prying eyes.
"Let me go!" With a shove and a slap away of his hand, you freed yourself.
With a deep breath, a hulking figure loomed over you with a glare. How dared you in hindering his plans?
"Listen to me very carefully, if you tell anyone about this-"
"Are you seriously threatening me?"
"You don't understand." Venom and vitriol spilled through clenched teeth. His hands were trying to decide which place was better to anchor itself from, clenching them only fueled his anger, and pacing around wasn't helping either.
"You are the one that seems to not be understanding. I'm not asking, I want to know how this happened, Miguel!"
That was definitely a way he hated hearing his name. So full of anger and demand. Just like Dana.
"It's your fault." He couldn't help but muster, more to himself than to you, "How... How couldn't you notice this?" Voice betraying the grittiness in his demeanor for a second.
"My fault?!" glossy eyes in anger widened as he kept spilling his accusations. "Must I remind you what happened that night? We fucked. In bathroom stall."
"For all I know that... thing isn't even mine, and you just-"
"Just what?! Try to put the blame on you?! Bold of you to think I have the time in whoring around like you do!"
His nose flared, relieving the brewing and piping hot steam.
"You can't... you can't do this to me, I can't do this." His hands clenched in his lab coat pockets. Then they rubbed his face.
"You think this is easy for me?!"
"I have a career."
He seethed and you couldn't help but laugh bitterly. His eyes followed you, settled to make an intimidating tactic you seemed temporsr immune to.
"So do I."
He scoffed at your words while pinching the bridge of his nose.
"No you don't. Not like I do."
"I'm not even asking you for anything but the truth. What happened? You're the only person I've hooked up with."
"Yeah, could fucking tell." He took a little check book and scribbled some things on it. Then put it right next to you, in the car's hood.
"I don't know how much you'll need, but get rid of it. The sooner, the better."
You heart stopped for a second as a flurry of emotions crossed your face.
You weren't one for fearing or hating monsters, but this one before you, made you shiver and recoil with something so damn familiar it instantly got you lunging for him, ready to make for his face.
He caught your hand before you could actually slap him with the freshly written check. Grip tightening, yet you were too angry and hormonal to care about the pain. Hot and angry tears were no match for his careless and cold stare. He seized you once more before letting you go, nearly shoving you out of his way.
He wasn't moved by your silent crying, either angry or sad, he just watched you with a gaze that would be translated into an 'Are you done?'
You weren't. But defeat had been pulling out all trace of energy that remained on you. No matter how many times you asked, he avoided the question and he just proved he didn't have any intentions of giving you one, or anything of the sort.
He clearly didn't want anything to do with you or the child accidentally conceived.
"What are you doing, Miguel?"
But he knew what happened. The condom had broke, expiration date had been one of the reasons it ripped. He knew he had to change it. But his mind was on the tip of his dick. Awaiting to attack your snug insides again. 
Wiping the little dignity you had in your eyes, your shaking hands were about to reach for the papers on the floor when you saw a pair of cream colored heels, that carried the beautiful woman you were dying to set free from the maws of lying and cheating monster.
Dana's perturbed voice echoed through the open space and then evolved into an acute ringing in your ears, muffling her voice for a minute before you rushed to the nearest trash bin to empty the bile that had rose during the fight.
A clear Stop it, from your body.
Both Dana and Miguel watched you, doubling over the bin and holding your hair to prevent a further mess. Incredulity and horror struck them both. Miguel specially.
Stress made the sensations and pregnancy affairs a hundred times worse.
"Dana..." Miguel warned, but his fiancé was way too gone into staring you retch, recognizing a little piece of what had been happening. She had arrived when Miguel was writing you the check hearing more than enough.
"Let's go home, corazón."
Miguel spoke but Dana's eyes darted to the papers on the floor along the written check. Legs moving to where they were and picked them up.
Ultrasound pictures, some medical prescriptions and the most important thing, your diagnose. After this weekend passed, you'd be turning ten weeks.
You were too busy to notice the brunette's hand trembling and covering her mouth as she kept on reading.
"Dana-"
The click of her heels and firm slap echoed through, making your attention to go back to them. Miguel was looking to the floor, a flushed cheek with his fiancé's hand, and the woman herself looking like she was about to commit murder and he the next victim.
"Liar!"
You could only look away at the raw and ugly pain behind those words. He had fooled her enough. Dana did what you couldn't, a tiny solace to your bleeding soul.
"How could you?!" A quiet sob before the brunette turned to you, air trapped in your lungs as she prowled over you. Cheeks ready to receive the impact, but this never came, at least not right away.
"Dana, wait!"
"You whore!" Miguel grabbed her last second but she only thrashed in his arms, struggling to let go, trying with all her might in freeing herself from the monster's claws.
"I didn't know he was engaged! I'm sorry!"
Words kept flowing between broken sobs and sour mouth. Miguel looked like considering letting her go so you could have a taste from her wrath, but seeing you ready to take the hit made the urge to go away, infuriating him even more.
So righteous.
"Don't bullshit me, you slut!"
"He wasn't wearing a ring when I met him! How was I supposed to know?!"
That phrase alone made Dana to remain still. Her heart visibly breaking in tiny shards, so small they could be blown away with the wind. Fat tears rolled down her trembling cheeks. Miguel could glare even more to you if possible. He didn't know what pissed him the most that you were ready to face the consequences or the fact that you were spilling everything out.
"H-He wasn't?"
If the circumstances were different, you'd wrap her arms around her to prevent her breaking even more. But the only thing you managed to do was to admit everything. Sacrificial lamb ready to be slaughtered, unafraid of death.
"He wasn't."
As Miguel lowered his grip Dana came for you, holding you by the lapels of your blazer. Her dainty fingers wrinkling the fabric impossibly tight under her grip. Some of her nails dug on your skin. She trembled, eyes unwavering over your steadfast ones.
"I'm so sorry... If I had known that... he was engaged I would never have approached."
"For how long have you been doing this? Answer me!"
She pleaded. Unlike Miguel, you were providing with answers that only put the remains of her broken and stepped on heart on a shredder, but the more you talked, the more the weight on them was lifted off your shoulders.
"It was one time-"
"Where?"
"In... in the Alchemax Retirement party. I'm so sorry, miss, I had no i-"
Your words were cut short by another slap. She sting spreading through your right cheek.
"Get out of my sight" Dana shoved the papers back into your hands and pushed you away from her, "Get out!".
Your legs scrambled you away, you could hear a metallic sound clinking on the floor, Dana had removed her ring and threw it at Miguel, only to bounce off the floor. Miguel could only watch the expensive relic getting soiled at his feet.
"Say something!"
She wasn't ordering, but pleading to have answers. You knew she'd get none, since you didn't have yours.
Car keys fumbled in your hands, you needed to get out before anything else happened. Miguel’s eyes burning into you, they stalked your every movements and expressions.
But you had laid bare before the both and took the punishment like a champ. The car's engine purred, drowning out the sound out. You could see Dana speaking in an accusing manner as Miguel tried to get a hold on her. As much as you were a homewrecker now, you could sleep a little better knowing that you had saved her from getting married to a man like Miguel.
The latter proved to be cornered, but he didn't lash out. And that only sent a new wave of anxiety to wash over you. What he was planning? The check was scrounged up like your medical data.
His penmanship a tad sloppy, but the traces looked almost like he was intending to tear through the paper. You drove off, watching them both from aside. Miguel's eyes locked with yours once more.
You stared at danger itself in the face, but you weren't afraid anymore.
You drove away. Forced to escape the aftermath.
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MJ held your hand as you both made your way inside a bigger center, shielding you away from some religious protesters outside the building.
Just as your words had forseen, his reaction had only made your previous resolution to ground even more.
Mind set in getting your old life back. Even if it was dull, boring and full of so many average moments, you wanted it back.
You wanted to go out drinking, dance till your feet hurt, instead of hurting for the many times you went to the bathroom. You needed to feel normal, annoyed even whenever your boss caught you slacking for something you could control and not because a pregnancy.
But more importantly, you wanted to feel normal again. The same as usual, underpaid receptionist that was another worker in a big multinational company.
Not an underpaid, used, threatened and pregnant with the child of an engaged man that had done nothing but test your patience. This wasn't in your job's description.
And pretty sure, the woman next to you in the women's center wasn't made for comforting either. She cursed at her unborn child in between ugly sobs, saying how much she wished to never have appeared back in that house, wherever it was, to whoever it belonged.
A stark contrast to the woman right before you, looking at her ultrasound images with such joy you'd never had the chance to understand nor wanted to. Too exhausted with your own thoughts to make some Instrospection on your heart's opinion. MJ sat next to you, her warm and soothing hands never left yours.
Half of the room felt red, warm, homey and full of proud future mother's that without a doubt would give their children whatever they deserved. They smiled and shared their stories among eachother, like if they had just won over the lottery. Some even went to the extent of be ecstatic upon each other's ultrasound picture.
And you sat on the blue side. Mothers that didn't want their child over so many different vicissitudes.
Some unable to carry on the pregnancy due the lack of a decent living place, homelessness, Some too young to be there, yet old enough to go under the scrutiny of a doctor to confirm what they already knew. Others with a faulty body that would be nothing but trouble, it was rare the woman that came in like nothing had happened, ready to resume their old lives, unbothered and emotionally unscathed.
"How much do I must wait to get rid of it?"
The blasé voice murmured behind you, unknowingly of the damage that had resurfaced in your memories, just like Miguel's words.
Get rid of it.
Get rid of her.
It was one of the few phrases the woman that gave birth to you, engraved in your childish brain as she was contained by the turn's lover, avoiding the imminent physical damage to fall upon you.
But what to do, when the most hineous form of impairment had already wounded you?. Crippling you to this very day. It didn't help the foster homes you were taken to after, followed a likely pattern.
Unstable, erratic, hot and cold and so confusing, blurring and tarnishing parenthood's concept too much to make a healthy definition out of it. And as soon as you hit the eighteen's to your little surprise, the system let your hand go.
Get. Rid. Of. Her.
A hard swallow and a shaky breath. sides turned a pale hue of lilac for a moment.
The sooner the better.
You weren't getting rid of the seed growing within you because you hated it. All the opposite. You were being merciful and compassionate. Borderline loving even.
Right?
Your name was called, and everyone's eyes turned to you, some hopeful, a silent plea to keep it, others encouraging, pushing you deeper in the hallway that lead to the surgery room, and others understanding. There was no judging, specially from the blue side. MJ nodded to you, encouraging to keep walking, yet a bit of hesitation remained on them.
With every step you gave, the room came closer, reaching an arm to you, so tempting and inviting to finally grant you what you had been longing for the past days.
Getting rid of it.
Another gulp, but this one was harder to deglute since a solid knot had been  tightening in your throat with such force, you were sure you couldn't scream even if your life depended on it.
Like mother, like daughter.
Stomach queasy and oh so dreading to what came next. An open door, tools and equipment ready to be used in your little seed. Brain storming with flashing colors that had you wincing at the plain white light.
The thought alone of resembling in any form of your mother was revolting. Your feet haltered as the doctor ventured herself in. Hands shook, unable to be still, unable to grasp yourself completely. A thick tear rolled down your cheek, then another one followed.
The only thing I regret is not getting an abortion sooner.
A sniffle, your steps approached closer to it. Sterile white filled in with pristine smells. Despite not remembering her face anymore, her voice remained etched on you like a ghost. Leeching on your memories and hindering all possibilities of letting go.
God, I swear. I don't even know what I am paying.
With a trembling jaw and lip, you stepped back.
I was happier, way much happier before you showed up.
Even though the room was open and the doctor called you in, you didn't dare to enter. No matter how tempting and cozy it seemed inside. Just like your foster homes had been initially. You weren't happy to be here, a rush of panic made it's way through your legs, stomach and throat. Rising without any forgiveness.
Why won't my baby just die? Why?! Is not that hard, sweetie.
She had said with all the loveless voice someone could muster after you had spilled her pills down the toilet by accident. Cold and unfeeling hands tightening around your ten year old neck, your little pleas unheard. The same rush of panic flooded your senses, freezing any rational thought with it's biting glacial maws. You were in danger.
Let me show you, baby.
You ran. Ran in the direction you had came in, ignoring the doctor's calling you, the unified shocked stares as you crossed the clinic's threshold. MJ trailing behind you with a perturbed look in her face as she called your name. Everything in your body buzzed, but one thing had you folding and crying in an alleyway.
The child's heart.
Beating with such intensity along yours. Uneven at first, but then in a rhythmic and single one. Strong, steady and very much alive. Grateful even.
MJ's voice called you, to then rush to you.
"I'm so sorry... I can't-"
"It's ok." Hands wrapped around you, cradling you with nothing but tenderness and care. She shushed you and attempted to wipe your tears whole you shook your head vehemently.
You couldn't. You weren't brave enough yet.
"Do you want to get back inside?"
A little shake of your head. Mary Jane helped you to stand and wrapped her sweater around you, promising you'd be fine. Promising that everything would be alright.
"Let's go home, ok?"
Your hands tightened around your lower belly while guilt flooded your senses. You weren't ready to be a mother, that was much true, but you weren't also ready to make such a life changing decision, yet time was running out.
It wasn't thrilling. Yet, you knew an honest talk awaited once you got home.
And this time, a desicion would be born out of your rational side, not from your feelings and fucked up memories.
Your heart however, had turned a shade lighter of lilac, borderline pink.
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starlightdreaming · 1 month
Text
Lucifer Morningstar x Reader! Ch. 3!
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel!
Content Warning: more… angst. with some comfort..(?) idk starve lol. blood and vulgar words. SUPER LONG CHAPTER TOO WOO! (nonproof read too)
Synopsis: after going through severe depression, you mentally and physically shut down.
Further note: THANK YOU FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ARE SUPPORTING MY SERIES (Lululuna) IT MAKES ME SO FUCKIGN HAPPY AAHAHAHHDVENE (this is also my favorite chapter I’ve been waiting to write HEHEHHE) ENJOY READING AS IVE ENJOYED WRITING IT - ✨Lolo💫
Chapters!: Chapter 1 ✧ Chapter 2 ✧ Chapter 3 (you are here) •<•)b ✧ Chapter 4 ✧ Chapter 5
THIS CHAPTERS SONG IS uhhHhahwueh
(optional but recommended!)
。・:*:・゚Lululuna・゚:。*:・。
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After sending Lucifer away, you were silent during the whole aftermath ordeal.
You stared at the ground for a long while, sitting in the middle of the court room, ignoring and blocking everyone that was talking or looking at you. In a room so loud, in your mind, it was deathly silent.
Sera went to you, tapping your shoulder softly, “come along now, Y/n,” She says, softly, “Let’s get you home, alright?” She offers, standing up, waiting for you to collect yourself and get up as well.
the carpet was drenched with a puddle of tears, you felt like a part of you was gone forever… and you weren’t ever going to get it back. You dry your tears, using your sleeves to wipe them off your face before getting up and taking Sera’s hand into your own, she held your hand softly, teleporting you to the front of your home.
“Take all the time you need.” Sera says, understanding how much pain you were going through, you have told her everything after all in your years of working with her after you and Lucifer fell apart. She teleported away as you stood at your front door for a moment, staring at the door before unlocking it and pushing it open with no effort at all, your home was dark from how late it was,
The sun was gone, put away to rest, and the moon was present, subtle and set.
You walked into your home, stars barely dimming any light in the dark home, you closed your door behind you, leaning on it with a sigh, your exhausted eyes felt puffy from all the tears you had shed after seeing Lucifer for the last time, the way he looked at you as he fell, bore into your mind, it’s been haunting you since.
‘maybe it was a mistake?’ you thought as you conversed in your head for the nth time that day, your mind was haunting you endlessly with years of torment after Lucifer left you behind, your heart and mind were always arguing with one another, your heart always begged to talk things out even if the pain was unbearable but your mind was more of in control with your body, trying to keep your heart safe, trying to keep you safe from any more suffering. you just didn’t know what to do.
Tears fell from your eyes again that night, wishing to be held and comforted by someone who would understand the same pains as you, and that someone was no one.
Down at your door you sat, hugging your knees as you cried out your pain, the exact same spot when you cried yourself to sleep on your last birthday, the last birthday you shared with Lucifer. It wasn’t a good memory to remember but… it was a memory that was telling you, ‘here we are, once again.’ and that was enough to make you cry harder as you hugged yourself with the silence screams that no one could ever see or hear…once.. again.
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Day in, day out.
As time passed, you were slowly recovering from the losses of your childhood friend.
Day in, day out.
As time passed, you focused on your work behind the scenes, Emily bringing joy to those around Halo city, welcoming winners and Heaven born angels all around. With more Earth born angels arriving in Heaven, the population of the people grew, meaning more expansions of the city and more expansions of the city, meant you had to work much, much longer.
Day in, day out.
You were falling behind on your creations, being the only ‘angel’ that could make stars, Sera would often have to come and talk to you and your issues of the star makings. You and Sera both tried to get other angels to make the same stars as you, sentient and beautiful, but it was only ever botched and dull when anyone else tried to make them, leaving you at a loss. You often had to stay up in late night hours, until the sun came back up, barely ever giving you the chance to go back home and rest. After one problem, another came along, you began to feel confined behind those four walls.
Day in, day out.
Your life was just stuck in the same room, rarely ever getting out, star after star, it began to be repetitive and passionless, everything was the same.
Day in, day out.
Sera would often visit you, telling you to keep making an nth amount of stars today or tomorrow, sooner or later, she would just leave notes and piles of paperwork her employers would send to you, leaving you in the dust, life became frail and dulling, you were just a machine at that point, neglected and forgotten as you kept making sentient stars constantly.
Day in, day out.
Nothing’s new. Days, weeks, months, years, nothing was changing as you drowned more in more into a bleak and miserable office, you felt more and more empty, you would wake up and sleep, you lost track of time at this point, your office was just a mess of star dust and stars, the windows were black from the dust staining the windows making them unobtrusive, you sat on the floor in the center, feeling stuck and hopeless. Surrounded by the only thing that brought you comfort, now becoming the only thing you were ever useful for.
Day in, day out.
How long has passed? You didn’t care anymore. All you wanted was to escape and be free from this basked room of misery and self loathing, your stars became gloopy and sticky, they were melting in this room like you were.
Day in, day out.
You couldn’t bare another minute in the same room, your arms were stained black from stars that melted on you from time to time, the stars were barely ever successfully made anymore, you just couldn’t continue anymore.
Day in, day out.
Long and forgotten you were, nothing new and changing, just you in a black room, full of dust and gloopy stars. You laid there meaninglessly, your eyes lifeless and you completely numb, tired and exhausted.
Day in, day out.
Nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new, nothing’s new.
Day in, day out.
After days of laying there, eating your own stars as survival, refusing to allow anyone into your room, Sera finally showed up for once after eons or centuries? you don’t even know anymore. She wasn’t as loving or caring as she used to be, it was to be expected since you lost sight of you as a sister and more of a machine. When she ordered you to get up and do something, you refused to respond as you continued to lay there, seeing as doing anything anymore was futile.
She commanded you again and she received no result, When she picked you up from the ground, she saw how lifeless you really were, she teleported you to a hospital, getting you attention from the doctors as quick as possible, they checked you, you were alive, obviously, but mentally, you died out long ago.
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The nurses cleaned and fed you, you were barely responsive but it was progress to them if you ever reacted.
You laid in that hospital bed, day in, day out.
One day, Emily came to visit you, you didn’t bother until she used her powers on you. As the joy bringer of the people, she managed to give you a glimpse of happiness again and that was enough to bring color back into your eyes and look at her.
A nurse watching, left to contact a doctor. Emily smiled at you as she channeled her energy to you, hugging you and asking you questions to see if you would respond, it took awhile but you managed to wry a smile and tell her, “hi..” a croak in your voice from how raspy your throat felt, she tilted her head with a comforting smile, “hi,” she said, “how are you feeling?” she asks genuinely, her hand over your yours as she channeled more of her angelic energy, soothing you physically and mentally, “I’m alright.” you responded with a croaky voice, “yeah?” she asks, “yeah.” you respond.
A doctor showed up to give you a thorough check up, the nurse following and thanking Emily as she lightly laughed off the nurses praises. Your eyes were still dull but they had color now, the bags under your eyes were visible from the years lack of resting, black circles covered your eyes but seeing you be able to smile was just enough for the doctor to say you were responsive now. The doctor and nurse left the room to get you your meal or checking on other patients, leaving you and Emily once again.
Emily would talk to you, making small conversations, tell you about her day and sharing her energy with you again to make you more at ease, she even told you how Sera refused to let her see you cause you were always too busy for visitors, that was true but it was also the reason you were here in the first place. When visiting time was over she promised to come back to visit you tomorrow, you smiled at that, waving bye as she left.
Now it was you, yourself, and the white room and for once, you decided to stand up and look outside the window, the stars shined and dimmed brightly that night, the stars were the only thing making your eyes shine that night, their light reflecting off your eyes irises.
with the day done and in, you rested peacefully in that hospital bed, letting the day out.
Emily visited everyday to see you, still seeing you as a sister and telling you her life stories, she even managed to make you laugh at one point, it was a big laugh but it was genuine and thats what matters to her. At one point, you managed to ramble off about stars and the ideas you had for them, you got to show her how you made them, you tried to show her as well when she requested to guide her to make one, obviously it didn’t work but she smiled whenever she got to be given the chance to, she gave you the botched star that was lavender blue, it was small with imperfections but for the first time in the longest time, someone had given you something and you never were letting it go.
You used a little bit of your stardust to make it stick in your hair, making sure it stays there, no matter what. Emily smiled when she saw it in your hair, seeing how much it matters to you. You and Emily both spent the entire day talking and creating, sharing and conversing, it was so comforting and warm, her light was guiding you out of that dark abyss you had made for yourself and eventually- you were out the hospital.
You went back to that same office room but this time, you cleaned it, you made more stars, the neglected ones being perfected and revived, sentient and chiming. With your office cleaned you decided to get a meeting with Sera personally. It took a few days but it was accepted and eventually you were in her office, she looked at you authoritatively, not seeing you as she had once, who knows long ago.
“What is it, Y/n?” She says, sitting at her desk as you walked up to her desk and took a seat in the chair at the opposite end. “I quit.” You spoke, unhesitant, “What?” She says, rather surprised, “I quit,” you smiled, crossing your arms, “at making stars for you and the people.” you finished, watching her reaction change, ���and what makes you think you can?” She says with a slightly aggressive tone, glaring at you slightly, “I am my own person, I want a new job,” You say, sitting back in your chair, “then- will I make more stars for you.” You say, your her fingers intertwined and resting on your lap, legs crossed.
She stood up, her figure towering over you from over the table, “You refused to continue your work, end up in a hospital for who knows what and now you’re asking for a new job?” She asked, feeling rather insulted like you can laze around and do whatever you want, “Yes, that’s exactly what.” You smiled, unbothered, Emily made you feel this way, like a new person, she was therapy itself in a way.
“And you think you can handle a different job? even when you couldn’t even handle your own?” She glares, you leaned forward into your chair, “got bored with the stars thing, without a doubt I can do something else.” You say looking at her smugly, making her harden her glare at you. maybe Emily gave you too much of her energy.
“Fine then.” She says, turning around, looking away from you and out the window, she snapped her fingers and a man appeared next to you, “Woah- wait, what the fuck?” He says, looking around the room, looking at Sera, then at you, “You will be working with Adam from now on,” She says, turning back to you, you and Adam staring at each other awkwardly, before he began to wiggle his eyebrows at you with a flirty smirk, “Adam, you are to train and teach Y/n, show and tell her what she will be doing.” Sera orders, you had your knees up in the chair leaning away from Adam, due to him gawking at you before he looked away to Sera, “Wait now? Don’t you think it’s too soon for any recruits?” He questions, pointing a thumb at you.
“She wanted a new job since she failed to do her own,” Sera explains to Adam as you rolled your eyes from her statement, “since she says she can handle a new one, I’m giving her this one.” Sera finishes, sitting down back in her chair, “But we were just about to start? she wont even have time to prepare?” Adam responds, scratching his horn confused from this sudden meeting, “Then I suggest you get started,” Sera commands, going back to skimming through papers, “Dismissed.” She says, as you and Adam turn to each other confused.
You both left together, him leading and you following silently and awkwardly, your confidence long and left you after Adam appeared. “So what’s your name again? Already forgot.” He says looking at you, bending down slightly for you to meet face to face, you backed away from his action, “err, Y/n.” you respond, looking away for a moment before looking back at him, “Well nice to meet you, names Adam, first man, best man.” He smiles, reaching his hand out for you to take, you hesitated before shaking his hand, wrying a smile, “pleasure.” You speak, only giving him that response.
You both exited the building before flying, going to who knows where, “soo, before we get started, should probably ask what you do before you jump in the big ordeal, what do you do and how can you benefit us?” He asks, you flying alongside him, “I can do stellar manipulation, cosmic manipulation and stellar healing but im terrible at it,” You rambled, pointing a finger up after listing off your abilities, “What I can do best is making sentient stars do my bidding, like the stars that are all over Halo city? I made those.” You smiled, “Woah! wait, you made all those things come alive? that’s fucking sick!” He says complimenting you, “So you must be a big deal huh?” He smirks, “Ehh, I guess?” You shrug slightly with a smile.
“Ohoh, if you can control those stars, then you’re perfect for this job.” He smirks as he lands, you landed behind him as you looked around at everyone, them all wearing the same suits, you were confused now, just what even is this job?
“Sir? where did you go?” a female voice asked, “Sera teleported me outta nowhere for me to bring someone along with us,” he explains pointing to you, you walk up to her, “greetings, I’m Y/n.” you smile and waved, “Lute, Adam’s Lieutenant.” She says as she straightens her posture, giving you a short and slim response. “Attention ladies! we have a sudden and new guest! this is uhh,” he pauses before leaning toward you, “fucks your name again?” he asks as you deadpanned, how does someone forget a name so fast? “Y/n.” You respond, “Y/n!” He says, “Seraphim of the stars or something.” He says, trying to make you sound like big talk, “She will be joining us today, she isn’t prepared but thats okay, she will just be an audience for today at most, so everyone prepare yourselves,” Adam says as they pull out spears, making your confusion more piqued, “and let’s this fucking show on a roll!” he shouts, a portal opening, him flying off with his lieutenant.
You were caught off guard from them suddenly flying off, you followed, a little behind but you caught up quickly to Adam, (being a seraphim and all) staying behind him and Lute, when you went through the portal, you paused in the air, confused on where in the world were you? everything was red, the sky, the ground, it wasn’t long before you started hearing screaming in the distance, the angel army was flying and attacking, monster like creatures, “What the fuck is this?” You say in shock, “Oh shit, you curse too? fucking sweet!” Adam says, showing up next to you, watching the angels slaughter the creatures, “where am I?!” You ask with a shaky voice, concern and worry filling your voice, “You’re in hell, bitch!” He says, summoning an angelic guitar made of pure gold, strumming it.
“WHAT?” You say absolutely baffled from his answer, you quickly turned to look down at the destroyed city, those little things running around and screaming, pleading for their lives as they get brutally slaughtered, “why are we killing them?! they did nothing!” You say in a terrified voice, looking back at Adam, “calm down bitch, fuck,“ He says, making you glare at him instantly, “they’re sinners! We give them divine judgment!” He smirks, flying down and killing a sinner without hesitation, “Stop it!” You tell at him, your angelic form appearing from how terrified you were to discover that your divine people were slaughtering innocent souls that have done nothing but accept their damnation, “No, you stop it!” He says, flying back up to you, making you fly back when he got too close, “Sera ordered you to follow my lead, you are under my command!” He yells back, an explosion happening behind him, a city building tumbling, you stared in guilt, you didn’t even do anything to them and yet all you could feel was pure sympathy and sorrow for those souls who didn’t deserve the judgment they were receiving.
“Now, you’re going down there and helping us kill these fuckers or you can sit and watch.” Adam orders, you didn’t have any words to respond with as you looked down at the sinners, there was a young lady who was carrying a child away from the chaos, you couldn’t help but watch, you were too stunned to process anything, Adam flew off mumbling something under his breath, definitely cursing at you but you didn’t even care at that moment.
An angel chasing quickly behind the two sinners, the angels spear charging towards the two, before you can even give a second thought, you summoned a star quickly, tossing it at the angel, hitting them down before they could hurt the two, you gasped, surprised from your own actions, you hurt an angel, the angels you’re supposed to care for and protect! you watched the angel shrug it off like nothing before flying away to a different direction, giving the sinners the chance to run, why was Heaving allowing slaughter? doesn’t this go against the very foundations of Heaven? why didn’t you know about this was ever happening? and how long has it been happening? Sera assigned you here, so it’s obvious she knows! why would she allow this- wait.. does the father of Heaven know?
You quickly flew down to the city to find Adam, to find answers, but all you saw was bloodshed and destruction, spears left behind and angels flying around like they were proud of themselves, it gave you a gut wrenching feeling, “please spare me! don’t kill me!” A voice called out, you turned to see a sinner running for their life, your eyes widen when you see an angel walking up to the sinner, a manic laugh following behind them, you ran toward the sinner and the angel, you stood between them both, stopping the angel in her tracks, “I command you to stop!” you say aggressively.
The angel taken back by your sudden actions and outburst, “What are you doing? move it.” the angel said, trying to shove you away but you pushed back and it made the angel push you completely to the ground, moved to the side, you didn’t have any attributes to physical fighting and it showed, you fell to the ground, looking up quickly to see the angel about to attack, without a second thought, you summons another star, a rather big one and made it push her aggressively, you made the star make the angel collide with a building, knocking the angel out, you gasped, not meaning to go that far but you turned to the sinner and ran to their aid, “are you okay??” you ask the terrified man before you, he looked at you in awe, you angelic features making the man stunned and mesmerized, “yes… thank yo- gh-“ the man choked, a spear through his throat, his blood splattered onto your clothes, hands and face, you closed your eyes for a moment from the sudden liquid of blood covering your face.
You opened your eyes and your eyes widened when you saw Adam and Lute in front of you, the sinner headless and long gone of life, “Fuck do you think you’re doing?” Adam said, yelling at you, you looked down and stared at the red, staining your hands, your breath hitched, you were trying to save a soul and it died immediately in front of you, before your very eyes, from feeling sympathy and sorrow, you clutched your hands tightly, a fit of rage riling up inside you, “ADAM! THIS STOPS NOW!” You shout, your angelic appearance in full as you flew into the air, cosmic dust following your form, your wings emitted cosmic dust, along with your hands, star dust following suit.
You glared at Adam, Lute glaring back at you, sensing you were about to become a threat, she immediately charged at you before swinging at you, you immediately summoned a star as a shield, side eyeing her, you made the star push her down, away from you, another star attacking her swiftly and powerfully, knocking her out too, Adam watched it happen so quickly, “What the fuck was that? what did you do to Lute?!” He says, going after you next, he was much slower but he managed to fight off your stars as he kept swinging at you, you being the faster flying, dodged easily, they may have been more experienced than you but they were so damn sloppy with their attacks. not to mention as a seraphim, you are much more stronger.
You flew higher into the air, a radiant aura forming around you, “This massacre ends now, Adam.” you say in a monotone voice, focusing on your power as you began to summon multiple stars, making all sentient at once, you were using a lot of stamina for this but you were willing to do this if it meant stopping this meaningless wrath of judgment.
You had made stars fall, multiple stars stuck onto Adam as he tried to fight them off but you made the goopy ones specifically for him, eventually he was invulnerable to move, the stars sticky and drippy, making it hard for him to struggle, you glared at Adam silently as he began to curse you out, you made a big star float flatly, carrying Lute back into the portal along with Adam as the stars took his guitar and carried it with him separately, your other stars retrieved the other angels in this army, dragging them all back forcefully to the portal, you made the other spare stars fly up to the skies and make it rain stardust in the skies, the dust was full of healing properties, making sure the sinners that survived could heal physical injuries, you hoped it was enough for them since you weren’t very experienced with the healing attributes you had, feeling your stamina drained, you flew back to the portal, closing it as you flew to the grounds of Heavens cloud, panting heavily, you had never used that much of your abilities like that before, all at once in fact.
You looked up to see Adam pissed off at, struggling to break free from goopy stars you still had on him, you laughed lightly at this, that shits kinda funny.
You splat onto the cloud, face first, regaining your stamina for a bit, meanwhile the whole army Adam had was conversing in confusing, they tried to help Adam get out of the goop but that only made the. stuck with him, you turned to lay on your back, wings following and looked up to the sky, for once, you felt rather proud of yourself for being able to full something like that but now it was the worse part to come, after recollecting your energy, you got up and flew off, dragging Adam with you, the stars of goop following as he muffled our screams.
When you returned to Sera’s office, you busted down the door with any respect, “Sera!” you shouted angrily, “We need to take about this job offer.” you grumbled, slamming your hands down her desk, the goop of stars putting Adam down as he deadpanned at you and Sera. Sera’s eyes widened from your sudden outburst and the blood covering your body, “I assume you couldn’t handle it?” Sera asked, after recollecting herself, “Handle it? I more than handled it, I dragged a whole fucking army back into Heaven!” You screamed, Sera glared as she stood up, “That was not your job, your job was to follow Adams orders!” she spoke back sternly, “This job and his orders are hypocritical to what we believe in! this is conflicting to the foundation of Heaven!” You argued back as Adam watched, Sera stared at you before sighing, “Can we speak alone about this?” she requests, eyeing Adam, signaling you to let him leave, “fine.” you scowl at her in detestation, you snap your fingers and the goop evaporated, also summoning his guitar to give back to him, “Christ, you’re a crazy bitch, you know that?” He says insultingly, he spoke as soon he got his guitar but you ignored him as the ordered the with a swift of your finger, the stars dragged him out the room and shut the door, all while you stared at Sera with displeasure.
“Why would you let winners and heaven born give divine judgment to sinners? What was your plan? What the fuck even is this job??” You began, hostility filling your voice. “The sinners were uprising, they were getting more and more bigger in population!” Sera responds, beginning her explanation, “and?” you asked unconvinced, “They were getting stronger, of they become to powerful, they may even reach the Heavens! they would take over and spread evil all over our realm.” She continues as you scoff, “and why would you think that? you doubting your fathers abilities to keep that under control?” you point out as she looks away, making you ponder, “does he even know you’re allowing your people to slaughter souls?” You ask.
She glared at you as she sat up in her seat, “He doesn’t and won’t know.” she says calmly and authoritatively, “seriously?! you’re doing this behind his back?!” You say, raising your voice in shock and anger, “unbelievable!” You say as you step beck from her desk, turning to leave her office, “and where do you think you’re going?” She asks, “where am I going? i’m going to tell all of Heaven on what the fuck you’re doing thats what!” you shout back, opening the door to leave but it shits immediately, Sera now in front of you, “you’re not going anywhere.” she says darkly, her figure towering over you as eyes appeared over her body, her angelic form showing.
You stepped back, looking at her staring daggers at her as she stepped closer to you, “and what makes you think I can’t?” you taunt, as she stood tall in front of you, “you will be silenced.” She says as pulls out an angelic spear of her own, knowing that she was threatening your life now, “What will Emily think when she finds you slaughtered her own sister?” You ask, putting up a facade of bravery, trying not show that she was getting to you, “Emily is not your sister.” Sera says aggressively and threateningly with pure hostility in her voice, seeing as that got to her it made you smug, “We’ll see when she finds out about how you allow her people kill the innocent.” You smirk with a shit-eating grin, knowing that no matter what she did, it wouldn’t turn out well for her.
It in-fact: did not turn out well for you, “We’ll see, when you’re gone for good.” She says as she swiftly moved you too quickly for you to react, her angelic spear carving your back, a mass amount of pain following as you screamed, you fell forward as she pushed you down as she stabbed her spear through her wing, making you wince in pain, adrenaline fueling your body from the shock that she actually took this path of violence. You tried to get up but she stepped on your back, pushing you back down, you look up at her in fear, her cold dead eyes staring into yours, “long before you know it, Emily will forget you even exist.” She says, swinging at your back again as you scream from agony, golden blood now mixing into the dried blood that covered you, you were shaking from terror and pain, she picked you up from your neck, as you struggled in her grasp, “stop- it!-“ you begged, trying to breathe, trying to kick her off you as golden blood dripped onto the ground in her office, she didn’t respond as she opened a portal, you turned to look, the familiar red skies before your very eyes, you turn to Sera desperately, “Don’t do this!-“ you gasped, struggling more in desperation, “You can’t!” You say, trying to pull her grasp off you, you were losing air and the stamina in your body.
“But I will.” She says with no solace or pity in her voice, she threw you into the portal with a second thought, closing it quickly, you gasped for air, adrenaline fueling your body as you regained oxygen to breathe but that was the least of your worries now, you were falling and your wings were to injured to fly, you were panicking as you tried to use your wings to fly but the pain was to unbearable, you saw your stars in the sky from earlier, protecting the sinners, thats it! thats your only ticket, you immediately tried to summon stars but it was a struggle to do so from how much power you already used from earlier, you had to overexert your abilities again, you mustered all the strength you had left within you, your angelic form showing as a bright colorful aura gleamed around you, you summoned stars but it was so hard to focus with adrenaline and panic that was fueling your body, you manage to make some stars but they were falling with you, some staying in place in the air for you to land on but you would quickly bounce off them from impact, you couldn’t focus at all, the sky rained stars that you had tried to quickly make but failed to use, it was too late as you crashed into the ground, a crater formed around you.
Your whole body hurt, it hurt more than anything you felt before, you weakly tried to sit up, you look at something glowing on the ground, you look to see a lavender blue star, the imperfect perfect star Emily had gifted you fell out of your hair, you winced in pain as your reached for the star, grabbed it and holding it to your chest as you laid back onto the ground, completely lost of any stamina and energy left to give.
Golden blood began to surround and puddle around you, the adrenaline and pain was the only thing keeping you awake right now, you laid there weakly, looking at the now red skies, you couldn’t do anything but only to try and breathe, trying to stay away, you were alone and no one in hell was going to go and try to save you. You were helpless, alone, once again. You couldn’t help but cry, scream in pain, why was this always happening to you? Why couldn’t you just find happiness? Why couldn’t the universe- help its only and dearest child? Your screams were so loud but they always heard im deaf ears, why did fate choose you to suffer this path? you screamed until you couldn’t anymore, you stared at the red sky as you waited for your in pending death. While looking at the sky, you see the stars shift toward you, raining their star dust onto you, the dust leaving soft touches on your skin, they felt like cool kisses, soothing your pain, you smiled weakly at your creations, your eyes feeling heavy as they tried closing, you fighting to keep them open but you eventually lost that battle.
eventually, everything went to black.
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azukiel · 5 months
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Nightfall Heir Chapter 1
🔞 MDNI 🔞 NSFW
Warnings (as a whole): Explicit sexual content, Graphic descriptions of violence, PTSD, Angst, Blood kink, Kidnapping, Pregnancy and Childbirth
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 |
⭐Here is the story on Archive of Our Own ⭐
Summary: Two years have passed since the events surrounding the destruction of the Absolute. Baldur's Gate is slowly rebuilding itself from the rubble, and you and your companions have established yourselves within the city to help in its restoration.
You and your vampiric lover, Astarion, had been nigh inseparable since coming back together. Yet a certain turn of events saw to your kidnapping and then... to your unexpected pregnancy.
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As you lay in Astarion’s arms, you relished in the bliss that coddled your heart.
Alas, your mind wandered. It had not always been like this.
Blissful.
Your memories vividly recalled the time you had first laid with him, the time where the soft glow of fireflies had danced in the air, casting shadows that whispered secrets into the grass beneath you. The subsequent times thereafter had also been a symphony of sensations - feverish rustling of bedsheets, and the intoxicating scents of his cologne mingled with the musky aromas of passion. Back then, Astarion had always assured you that your very essence would be enveloped in a euphoric blend of pleasure and ecstasy. However, beneath the surface of those passionate encounters lay a web of deception. Your trysts had been nothing more than a meticulously crafted facade, a mask to conceal the collective traumas that haunted you both. Astarion had sought protection and trust from you, while you had yearned for a semblance of true companionship and belonging from him.
Still, the scars you both carried were etched into your souls, impossible to conceal. They were etched into the very fabric of your beings, leaving invisible wounds that refused to heal.
You flinched at the painful recollections as you looked up again at his peaceful, sleeping face. Closing your eyes for a moment, you took in a deep breath. His scents of bergamot, rosemary and aged brandy eloped you with a warmth like a midsummer’s kiss. His enchanting perfume restored a sense of peace. Yet, the darkness that still lingered in the back of your mind clawed its way into your consciousness once more.
Shuddering, you pressed yourself harder against his body to shield yourself, and though, in his sleep, he tightened his arms around you, you felt your walls again crumble. As the salt of your tears stung at the corners of your eyes, your unscrupulous mind continued to ravish your heart…
You were flung back to your childhood, vividly recalling the relentless barrage of blows, the sound of bones cracking, the scathing verbal assaults, and the relentless condemnations. The overpowering stench of sweat and blood used to fill your nostrils as you were forced to confront opponents far stronger than yourself, all for the perverse amusement of the masses... enduring unspeakable torment that had assaulted your body and mind alike. Such was the brutal reality of the Drow society that had shaped your upbringing. And yet, your tortures were not so different to that of which your lover had suffered at the hands of his old tormentor, Cazador.
The torment you had both endured had left deep scars, which had resulted in your eventual separation. The memory of it lingered, triggering a silent sob from you. In the past, you and Astarion had made the mutual decision to remain ‘just companions,’ driven by guilt over having used each other as shields for your sufferings. It had seemed like the ideal solution, a way to aid in healing. But unbeknownst to either of you, it had only exacerbated the anguish, a truth you both refused to acknowledge, even to yourselves.
At least, not until the events in Cazador's gloomy prison had unfolded.
Your mind, shrouded in darkness, conjured up a vivid and haunting replay of the events...
Your heart had been torn asunder as you had watched Astarion confront his old, wicked master. The anguish inflicted upon Astarion had been unbearable, a raw wound visible in your eyes. Alas, the hunger for power had consumed him, a voracious appetite for ascension that had wrapped around him like a suffocating web. In a mere breath, the Astarion you had known and loved had vanished. The vibrant essence of the witty, sassy, and flamboyant Elven vampire you cherished had been replaced by a feral beast. The sight of his former slaver, now succumbed, bloodied and kneeling, blurred the line between captor and captive.
You recall having exerted every ounce of your strength, having plead with Astarion to resist the seductive pull of power, to spare the lives of the countless thralls and spawn. The weight of this decision had threatened to consume his true self, which would have rendered him unrecognizable. Unimaginable sorrow had consumed you as you had contemplated the magnitude of such a loss.
The anguished cries that had escaped him as he struck down Cazador had reverberated through your being, threatening to shatter your very core. Even though Astarion had eventually yielded to your pleas, a deep resentment had grown within him towards you.
Your mind then shifted to when you and your companions had returned to the Elvensong Tavern nigh your vampiric companion. Your body had trembled uncontrollably, with tears streaming down your face, your sobs wracking your entire being. The weight of your despair had felt like an unbearable burden, threatening to consume you entirely. You remember the painful pounding of your heart in your chest, the rhythm deafening in your ears, and your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggled to regain control. Halsin’s sudden powerful embrace had provided a sense of stability, and his firm hold had offered a sense of security that you had desperately needed in that moment. He was, in fact, the only companion strong enough to hold your arms to prevent you from burning down the place in your despair. You recalled the surrounding room blurring as your vision had become clouded by tears; the world reduced to a haze of pain and anguish.
The others, your companions, had surrounded you, and eventually their presence had become a comfort amidst the chaos. Their words of reassurance and support had washed over you, their soothing voices attempting to ease the torment that had consumed your mind. Though their words had been barely audible through the fog of your despair, their presence alone provided a sense of unity and shared strength.
Sighing inwardly as you nestled yourself in the crook of Astarion’s shoulder, you remembered that back in that tavern on that night, time had seemed to lose all meaning to you. You had continued to tightly cling to Halsin as he cradled you, and your body had gradually succumbed to exhaustion.
After what had felt like an endless stretch of time, Astarion had finally returned. You recall that the room had been dimly lit by then, and the dancing candle light had cast long shadows on the worn wooden floor. You had heard the faint echoes of his fervent apologies, his voice trembling with remorse. The weight of his rage, which had been directed solely at you, had torn through your heart like a sharp knife. Truly, you hadn’t blamed him. It had been a battle within himself, a struggle to maintain control. Nevertheless, it had still shattered your already delicate heart and mind.
And then you recollected, amidst the heaviness of the situation, he having expressed his gratitude. The words had hung in the air as he had thanked you for rescuing him from the brink of losing his very self. You had saved him from becoming a reflection of the one he despised most in the world. Cazador Szarr.
Late that same night, under the glowing moonlight, he had guided you through the calm silence of the local cemetery. After having reached a secluded plot, he had unveiled a tombstone that had been crafted for him upon his ‘death’ as a mortal elf. The tombstone had stood there, adorned with weathered vines, a testament to the passaging of two long centuries. The air surrounding you both had carried a hint of mustiness and an earthy scent, mingling with the faint aroma of decaying leaves. A chilling breeze had whispered through the graveyard, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Astarion’s voice had broken the silence then, and he described how this tombstone represented not only the end of his previous life in Cazador’s clutches, but also the death of the creature he could have become had he ascended. In that moment, he had realised he was no longer a mere spawn, but finally, truly free.
And as he often reminded you, even now, it had all been because of your unwavering perseverance, infinite patience, and resolute devotion. Your enduring devotion to him. For that, he had fallen profoundly for you and had not hesitated to confess his adoration right in front of his grave. He had not hesitated to guide you down onto the mound of earth, where your bodies soon intertwined with an intense fervour, either.
You remembered the fierce emotions that had flooded your body. Every touch and every caress from Astarion had sent shivers down your spine, electrifying your skin and loins with an unbearable ecstasy. The air around you had seemed to crackle with an intoxicating energy, as if the gods themselves had acknowledged the depth of your connection.
Your breath had hitched with each movement, the anticipation coursing through your veins. The taste of passion had lingered on your lips as a mix of desire and a hint of rebellion. The gritty texture of the earth beneath you had only heightened the rawness of the moment, grounding you in the physicality of your love.
You bit your bottom lip with the memories which now overwhelmed your senses. You felt it all again. With each feverish thrust, the passion had intensified. The heat between your bodies had grown to burning new heights and had wrapped you both in a cocoon of shared desire. Astarion’s touch had ignited a fire within you as his hands had explored every inch of your body with a frenzied hunger. The world around you then had faded into a blur, leaving only the two of you entangled in a dance of unbridled passion.
In that moment, the boundaries of time and place had ceased to exist. Moans and gasps had mingled in the air, a symphony of pleasure and longing as you had moved together with an unspoken understanding.
It had been just you and him in that graveyard, your souls entwined as one. The world could have crumbled around you once again, yet you would have remained oblivious, lost in the sheer intensity of your love.
You trembled at the memory of the last echoes of ecstasy fading away, and the intense heat between your thighs after he had filled you. You had found solace in the knowledge that your devotion had been reciprocated with equal fervor.
As your mind floated back to your present time, you shivered again at the sudden delicious tingle at your junction, a soft moan escaping your lips. You froze, glancing up at your sleeping lover, hoping you had not been loud enough to stir him, but he was as still as the tombstone that adorned his grave. Which brought your salacious thoughts back to that night. That night had cemented your relationship once and for all. He was now yours and you were now his and the both of you had been inseparable since that night two years ago.
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