#and how they made it so he hated her and tries to kill her

[erwinsvow]

i made a mood board on how i perceive your version of bitchy reader WHOM I LOVE SO MUCH. GIRL THAT WAS SO GOOD I CANT WAIT FOR MORE!! kisses for you 😋

just for fun ofc 🎀🎀

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS SO PERFECT!!!!!!!! babe how did you get the vibesssss yesssss omg the pic with the bows in the hair is exactly what I was looking at!!!! But oh my god I adore every part of this

100% has a yappy little dog who HATES rafe at first like almost bites him first time he goes to her house, cutie baddie outfits and when rafe is like “where tf u goin dressed like that?” she just rolls her eyes like wherever i want!!!! makeup on the floor of his room, he almost slips on a mascara tube not paying attention and she goes “you need glasses grandpa? watch where you’re going and gimme that back” and he’s like u almost just killed me. sarahs mean bestie 🎀 unfortunately so mean to the pogues :( if she haddddd to pick one it would be pope bc he used to tutor her and he was nice but he’s still a pogue so. rafes always maddddd as hell about it even tho it was like two years ago “why the FUCK do you have heywards number saved?” n her response is “dick appt. duh. don’t worry though not anymore now that i have urs !!” also rafe gets sooooo mad he tries to spank her to set her straight but it doesn’t work bc she likes it 🫶🏽

#I’m soooo sorry for the random paragraph I LOVE THIS!!!!!!!! #📮 asks #bitchy reader

[acapelladitty]

Trouble Like A Mugshot (1.5k)

Pairing: Lucy Maclean/Cooper Howard

Summary: After a long day of travelling the wastelands, Lucy is feeling horny and asks Cooper if he wants to have sex with her. A question which is much more complicated than she could have possibly known.

(A/N: I might turn this into a short series of moments showcasing the pairs developing relationship from this to hard nsfw if that's something folks would like to see.)

Fic Masterlist

Link to AO3

Lucy Maclean was no stranger to the difficult to ignore feelings which were pressing at her body. Fingers slightly trembling, breath coming in shorter bursts than she would admit to, eyes unable to pull themselves fully away from the lounging ghoul who reclined in his nearby bunk with a relaxed stance; cowboy hat tipped across his face as he feigned sleep.

Lucy Maclean knew herself enough to understand that her restlessness wasn't the radition sickness which had recently started to touch at her peripherals again. Nor was it the fact that it had been weeks since she'd had any time to herself that wasn't shadowed by either her ghoulish companion or some other entity.

Lucy Maclean was horny and she was never one to deny herself a simple, sneaky little indulgence when the mood took her.

"Hey, Cooper." She called, fingers rolling across her bare forearms as she sat with her back to the wall, legs crossed in a neat pile. "You awake and listening to me?"

"Hard not to with those foghorn vocals." A grumpy response, muffled by the hat rang back at her. "What are you yapping your flap about?

"Do you want to have sex?"

In their time together, Lucy had never witnessed Cooper doing anything that her vault lessons had taught her were sexual acts. He didn't touch himself around her, didn't disappear for some self-relief as the boys did, didn't make any kind of pass at her like some of the others had done before her husband had been selected. As far as she knew, maybe the ghoul didn't even feel the same things she did, and that realisation made her roll back on her question almost as quickly as she had asked it.

"I mean, if you can have sex that is. I don't know if your," Lucy paused, unsure how to describe her partners physical state without causing offence, "condition, makes it possible. I don't even know if you have the right parts for it but there's other ways of experiencing pleasure. We could use our mou-"

Cutting herself off as her babbling reach a new octave, Lucy watched as Cooper's body - his frame stock still since she had asked her initial question - finally stirred into action. A reddened hand slowly rose from its position by his hip until it reached the cowboy hat, plucking the leather from his face as he turned to look at his bunkmate and travelling companion with an indescribable expression; various emotions fluttering through his typically stoic face.

"I know your experiences with ghouls are limited, princess." Cooper spoke patiently, voice low as he fired the hated nickname at her, her vocal dislike of the new monkier making it a very quick favourite of his. "But the whole package is still intact so let's get that established before you go telling people falsehoods about my good person."

"Okay. Noted." Lucy held her hands up apologetically and her knees touched as she lounged against the concrete wall which was supporting her. "But you didn't answer me. Do you want to? Have sex, I mean? Last time i did was with my assigned husband and it was good enough, great even, but then he tried to kill me and it was this whole thing."

Mentally filing that information away for future use and subtle further investigation, Cooper lay back fully against his own cot and tilted his head closer in her direction, thankful for the dimness of their shared room as it shielded most of his features.

"As much as I'd love to bury my bone in a new patch of land, I don't think that's necessarily the best choice in terms of this little partnership we've stitched together."

Indicating his sewn finger, he wagged it at her dismissively as a discomforting sensation flooded his stomach, mild arousal at the thought of some tail mixing with something dangerous that set his teeth on edge.

"Why not? It's only sex."

Suddenly feeling older than he had any right to, Cooper fell silent as he mused on her question for a moment.

Lucy Maclean.

Eyes as big as a doe, that girl was built soft but he was lucky enough to see people for what they truly were and the steel which lurked beneath the painful optimism and naivety that shone free of her would make her a dangerous player if she ever truly entered the game. He felt the burden of his own cruelty at times, cornering her into making decisions that would cause her little vaultie friends to vomit if they knew the violence she enacted, but with every difficult choice came a fresh coating to that steel which would see her survive and thrive in the wastelands.

It's only sex.

In his life, Cooper Howard had enjoyed less sexual partners than many would believe. A sticky fumbling in the upper level of an old barn had been his first, the other party a sweet girl from a nearby ranch who was two years older and knew what she wanted from him. Pretty soon after that came Barb and as soon as he laid eyes on her he never saw anything past her.

War was terrible for the other men and many lost themselves in drink and the women who haunted the barracks and backlines looking for poor souls to feed on. But not him. Never him.

Not when he had to come home to Barb.

Even when married and at the height of his fame, when aspiring young things would throw themselves at him, their perfumes overpowered by the stink of wine and cigarettes, he had rebuffed them politely. He was loyal and he enjoyed the fruits of that loyalty as he held his wife in his arms and basked in the sweet sounds that she would make as they fucked. Hell, she had even given him a daughter and he loved her every day for it.

War never changes.

But he did.

And fuck him if his new appearance and designation as a Ghoul didn't screw him out of any chance of some stress relief as he wandered the wastelands. Might as well have been a fucking leper for all the tail which was now afforded to him and his leathery visage.

Not for Lucy Maclean though.

She, it seemed, didn't care about any of that.

"Did I say something wrong? The leaders explained all acts of intercourse to us so I know what I'm doing and I consent fully."

Lucy's voice, heated with an almost defensive lilt, broke into his musings and Cooper blinked at her as the hole that made up his nose flared while he inhaled deeply.

"I don't doubt that, darling. I've seen how you handle a pistol." Reverting to his typical sarcasm as he looked, truly looked, at her, Cooper sighed at the earnestness which oozed from her features. "But I'm gonna have to decline. Politely."

"Is it because of me? Did i do somethig wrong? I mean, my husband didn't seem to mind but then he was planning on killing me anyway so y'know?" Making a wild gesture with her fingers as she spoke, the casualness of her speech wasn't enough to mask the genuine insecurity which threaded through the questions.

"You're fine. Attractive little thing, even. I think any man would jump at the chance to have you wrapped around them like an old holster."

He wasn't lying- and he wasn't blind. She was a good looking young woman, her innocence flickering like the dull embers of a welcoming fire in the darkness of the wastelands. She was enthusiastic, eager, and damn pretty with those big eyes and curved figure which hid beneath the bulky clothes which she used for protection. More than once he'd caught himself glancing at her as she bent to snatch up things from the floor and the few times he did allow himself to fall into something like sleep featured breathy moans and the feeling of long, brunette strands brushing through his ungloved hands. Mouthy too so he knew she would be a vocal one - probably yowling like a hellcat.

It would be so easy to have her.

A simple yes and she would no doubt leap into action, shedding those clothes as quickly as did her weapons when trying to find peaceful solutions to violent problems. He would treat her right, everh inch the gentleman cowboy and no doubt much better than that shady husband she'd unwittingly fucked. He'd show her things with his fingers and mouth that would have her screaming loud enough to wake up all the devils in hell. Against the cot, against the wall and against whatever furniture she wanted, he could show her how a real man treats a woman as they both burned off some stress.

Feeling a very definite stirring in his groin, Cooper was quick to banish the dangerous thoughts.

"But a bad man like me shouldn't be allowed near a pretty little thing yourself. You're ready for a lot, Lucy Maclean, but you ain't ready for that."

Something almost like understanding passed through her gaze and Lucy nodded, instead exhaling deeply as she tapped the back of her head against the wall behind her.

"In that case, would you mind leaving for an hour so that I can masturbate, please?"

Cursing himself for the little shred of morality which plucked at his heart and refused to allow him to ruin this unknowing tease of a woman, Cooper dutifully rose to his feet and marched to the nearby door.

"You get half an hour." He grunted, barely tilting his head towards her as he stormed out into the nighttime air - determined to get far enough away that there was no chance that he would hear her and break his determined stance.

Besides, he might not be fucking her but as his cock pressed against his slacks, he wasn't masochistic enough to deny himself a similar pleasure and the distance would also give him some much needed alone time.

Goddamn Lucy Maclean.

#fallout #fallout amazon #lucy maclean #cooper howard #lucy x cooper #ghoucy #lucy x ghoul #cooper x lucy #ghoul x lucy #fallout smut #walton goggins #ella purnell

[nunalastor]

Radioapple/Appleradio Secret Marriage au part 3:

(No one asked for this but I got a lot of time on my hands.)

When Alastor returned after 7 damn years, Vox could've sworn he'd mellowed out somehow – gotten soft around the edges in the years they hadn't fought like mortal enemies.

Well, not mortal enemies per se. More like the desperate attempt to gain the others attention which succeeded most of the time.

But anyways, Vox could practically smell the emotion on him and it didn't suit Alastor. It didn't suit his Alastor. Alastor was his enemy, the man who never hesitated to kill and humiliate others for entertainment. The man who had a reputation for being unpredictable and murderous.

He could see the way he'd look at the wannabe demon Charlie or the cowardly King of Hell who was shorter than two egg bois stacked on top each other. He saw the light in Alastor's eyes and it unsettled him. The way it somewhat resembled the look in Alastor's eyes before their falling out.

It was a certain softness which was obvious, especially when you're so used to seeing a cold expression with a manic smile. The expression he had looking at Lucifer was a soft grin, the emotion in his eyes which Vox couldn't quite put his finger on but he craved it. He craved to have Alastor looking at him in that exact way with the exact angle his eyes would curl at to the lack of teeth in the smile and even to the way his ears would twitch subtly when Lucifer looked back.

And it enraged Vox to see him like that for someone else. Even more so when he'd see that Lucifer seemed even more soft for Alastor. His gaze infinitely bright and his smile carefree as ever, as if he didn't care for pride in that moment and all that mattered was the red deer infront of him. The way his smile would stay consistent as he'd stare at Alastor with genuine happiness, as if just being able to look at him was something worth more than Hell itself.

And his anger, his rage, reached endless amounts when he saw them treating Charlie as if she was their child. Yes, she was Lucifer's but that certainly did not warrant Alastor making her pancakes every morning and asking how her day went and combing through her unruffled hair and telling stories and even helping her pick out dresses. Alastor shouldn't be treating them like that. And he certainly shouldn't be ignoring Vox as if he didn't exist.

He wanted Alastor to fight him, glare with hatred, anything but indifference. Anything but confusion with a question, "Who are you, again?" He would've accepted anything at that point, even his usual shit-eating triumphant grin that he'd wear when looking at Vox. As if he'd won a battle that hadn't even started.

He didn't like how Alastor had almost forgotten his own rival. He didn't like how Alastor and Lucifer would have subtle gestures for each other; holding a door open, pulling a chair out for the other and even helping each other if their outfit was in some way dishevelled. He especially hated how Lucifer would deliberately ruin his own tie, just to go to Alastor and have him help. And it didn't help how Alastor would let his guard down around Lucifer, almost forgetting that Vox was always watching. And Alastor's shadow was never nearly as affectionate with Vox as it was with Lucifer.

Everything was ticking him off. And it didn't help when Val tried to offer 'relieving him' or when Vel made an offhanded remark about him being sexually-frustrated and pissy about the lack of attention from his dear rival. And he almost felt the urge to just storm over there and break them up when he'd seen Lucifer leaning in to kiss Alastor, only to realise that Vox was watching and hastily pull away.

He hated how he wasn't in Lucifer's place.

(Lucifer tops in this au btw-)

👀

#hazbin hotel #alastor #nunalastor asks #radioapple #lucifer #secret marriage

[myohmyimanxious]

Hazbin Hotel Headcanons bc I'm obsessed xoxo

(Some NSFW is implied/mentioned)

-Husk was there when alastor sold his soul to whomever it was

- He also has no trust is alastor whatsoever like he's terrified of him but he also wouldn't trust him for his life (literally)

- Angel has PTSD

- But he doesn't realise he has it, bc he represses feelings and everything

- Charlie and Angel have a sibling dynamic

- They're pain in the asses for vaggie and husk

- Charlie reminds angel of his sister molly

- He also doesn't really like to celebrate his birthday bc it's not the same without her (unless he's shit-faced drunk and won't remember)

- Vox will make his screen brighter or flicker to get and hold val's attention

- Angel is Husk's lucky charm in gambling moments

- Angel genuinely did love val in the beginning and thought val loved him too

- Whilst Alastor truly does believe that a smile is a both a way to control the situation and hide one's true intentions, his smile is stitched on and he physically cannot remove the stitches as it's part of his deal

- Alastor is colourblind in the same way deer are

- Angel knows what they said about him in Angel court and he plays it off but it really upset him

- Alastor was a serial killer in his life

- He was never caught though

- Alastor plays static when actively trying to ignore someone

- He also plays music for the hotel to dance too, finding that he and Angel enjoyed the same music (bc of the similar time period)

- Husk once got alastor drunk enough to dance with Charlie and taught her how to Charleston dance

- Nifty is like everyone's child. You cannot mess with her

- Nifty will bring bugs to the person she likes most that day (usually alastor)

- Vaggie has threatened angel's life on many occasions

- Those two argue constantly (it's friendly tho)

- Charlie spends a lot of her time breaking up little spats in the hotel

- Charlie has nightmares about the time she saw alastors true demon form

- It made her feel super bad for him too, and she's offered to cut the stitches on his mouth but he refuses

- Lucifer is trying to be a better dad

- It's hard but he is actively trying

- He likes to hand out rubber ducks he's made/painted when people are upset

- Angel has a lot of them, bc he frequently seems to catch Lucifer when he's returning from work

- Lucifer is autistic for sure

- And his ducks are his special interest

- Lowkey he's also smitten by fat nuggets when he meets him

- So much so that when angel is at work lucifer happily offers to feed and look after the lil guy

- Fat nuggets once ate off of alastors plate, and that's the only time it ever happened bc by fucking god did alastor go crazy

- He didn't hurt fat nuggets tho it's okay, he wanted to but angel was like ILL DIE AGAIN BITCH TRY ME MOTHERFUCKER and pulled out some guns

- Angel gives Alastor the tea of what's going down with the Vee's when he gets it

- Mainly bc he hates the Vee's as much as Alastor and also bc Alastor asked him too and he's kinda scared of him

- And also bc it's fucking easy bc Val is a dumb bitch who doesn't know how to be subtle if he tried, Vox thinks so little of Angel that he thinks Angel would be too focused on the sex and Velvette doesn't care much for Angel either

- That's not to say that the Vee's haven't tried to get Angel to be their spy on the inside too, it's just Angel is like nothing to report also I gotta work sorry and just lies to them

- A wannabe patron once was rude to Charlie and lucifer decked them

- Everyone was amazed he had it in him to do it like that bc damn mans was pissed

- Let's just say nobody is rude to Charlie anymore just in case

- Also Charlie is also fucking terrifying when she wants/needs to be

- Someone called Angel a whore and tried to touch him and she went off

- Lucifer had to hold her back

- Fuck with her friends and she will kill you 😊

- Charlie cries at everything (good or bad)

- Vaggie is a real trooper putting up with it

- Angel was like "would you be like that with me if I cried all the time?" To husk, and husk with no hesitation said "fuck no"

- Husk treats Angel like a princess in the streets but a slut in the sheets

- They've deffo fucked behind the bar

- Charlie and Rosie keep in touch

- They have tea parties with Alastor

- Val is scared of Niffty bc she's unpredictable and bc he's not over what happened in the club

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel Headcanons #hazbin headcanons #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #huskerdust #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #valentino hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #niffty hazbin hotel #fat nuggets hazbin hotel #rosie hazbin hotel

[s0urw00lf]

All in time

Summary: finnick is on a mission to convince the world you aren’t what they think

Request: Finnick odair with reader who is strangely unsettling with like a creepy personality but also a sweetheart and she confuses everyone so much

Fic type: fluff/angst

Pairing: Finnick odair x reader

Word count: 1.4k

Masterlist

Boarder by @cafekitsune

An: i kinda hate this. But i hope you enjoy reading it more than i did writing it.

The games had changed you. And not for the better, the cheerful person you were when you were chosen was long gone by the time you stepped foot on that train to the capitol. Your walls went up and they were made of pure steel, no one was able to break your barrier. Until you met Finnick, it was like he just walked right through them with no problem whatsoever. He was quick to break down your barriers, only to see the complete sweetheart you truly were, the way you cried when you remembered all of the lives you'd taken in the arena, the memorial wall you'd put in your home for them. The way you secretly worried for everyone in the arena during every game, hoping they'd call it off right in the middle of it so no one else had to die. But of course, nothing good ever happens in the capitol. Which is exactly how you wound back up in the games with Finnick. Everyone was fairly wary of you, much to Finnick dismay.

Today is the first day of training, and while Finnick was walking around making allies, you were practicing your trident throwing accuracy, (which was pretty spot on) until you looked over to see Finnick making his way over to you with a small smile on his face. “You know it'd be a hell of a lot easier to make allies if you didn't look like you'd kill the first person who walked up to you,” Finnick said leaning on the trident stand. You sighed “I know, but it's stupid when almost all of us are gonna die anyway.” you said as your body thrust forward, throwing the trident and successfully hitting the target. You turned to him, making eye contact with his bright blue eyes. He nodded over to his right, you looked over and saw Katniss Everdeen, your blank expression quickly changed into one of slight panic, “absolutely not” you said shaking your head. Finnick started nodding his head muttering ‘absolutely’ over and over as he nudged you over towards her. “Come back with an ally,” he said from behind you, as you sighed and begrudgingly made your way towards the struggling girl. You hadn't been one for socializing, and you weren't as intimidating as people made you seem, in fact you were more afraid of not being liked than anything, but the facade helped you protect yourself.

Katniss currently had her back towards you, trying and failing to throw the knives and land them in the place intended. “You’re a badass archer, but your throwing is horrible,” you said in a monotone voice. She turned towards you and a look of shock crossed her face when she saw that it was you that was talking to her. her posture straightened “You know who I am?” Katniss asked. Your brows raised, “Everyone knows who you are, you and your boyfriend are a literal one in a million. Most beautiful love story in all of Panem.” You said. Katniss grimaced, “sorry, I just heard-“ she said before cutting herself off. You nodded, telling her that you already knew what she was gonna say. You pointed to the knife in her hand, “may I?”. She nodded handing you the knife and moving out of the way. you took her place in front of the target and put your arm in the growing position before pausing to show her, “Your stance was wrong. You wanna hit your target you have to get the correct stance.” You finished, before unpausing your position and throwing hit knife. You smiled looking over at her “Bullseye” you said letting a smile slip. You moved to get the knife from the target and walked back to Katniss holding it out to her mentioning for her to try again. She nodded taking the knife and tried to replicate your stance, before letting the knife fly at the target. Your brows raised surprised “Pretty good Everdeen” you complimented. She didn’t show any emotion but you’re pretty sure that’s just her. “Thanks,” she said in her quiet voice. you looked back at Finnick who was still resting in the same position, leaning against the trident stand, he nodded and you sighed quietly turning back to Katniss. “Knife throwing takes time and practice, so let me do the throwing and you stick to the shooting alright?” You asked holding out your hand, hoping shed catch your drift. She looked at you warily, but ultimately shook your hand. You smiled, and she gave you the best one she could muster “See ya” you said making your way back to Finnick who looked decently surprised. “See wasn’t that bad, you just needed a little push,” he said. You rolled your eyes, “you’re lucky she’s not unbearable, you would’ve been my target had she been” you joked with a smile

~~~~~

After you came back from rescuing Peeta and Johanna from the capitol, you were sitting on your and Finnick's shared bed when you heard a knock on the door. You made your way over to the door and when you opened you were met with a crying Katniss, you were instantly hit with worry, “are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked pulling her into the room. She shook her head “I just wanted to thank you, for everything.” She said. Your brows raised in surprise. “I second-guessed Finnick when he told me all you guys wanted was to help us, I didn’t trust you and I'm sorry, “she said solemnly. You shook your head, “you had every right not to trust me, or him. I didn’t fully trust you either” you admitted. You hugged her, you knew she wasn’t a touchy person, but you felt like she needed it. She hugged you back, before pulling away. “Finnick is lucky to have you, and I’m glad he put everyone in their place for you.” She said. You frowned in confusion, “what do you mean?” You asked. “In the arena when you’d gotten separated from everyone else he was a mess, but Johanna made a comment, saying you were probably scoping us out, seeing which ones to kill. He went ballistic and said anyone who thinks you’d kill them is just as brainwashed as the rest of Panem. Said he’d been more likely to kill us if it came down to it. Said you’re in no way whatsoever weak but you’re damn sure not a monster.” She finished. You frowned, you hadn’t known this piece of information, but when you’d reunited with the group you had wondered why everyone had such a drastic change of heart towards you. Even the stone-cold Johanna. Katniss understood the look on your face pretty well, having worn it herself. She stepped away “I’m gonna go I just wanted you to know that I'm thankful for everything.” She said and you nodded, “you’re welcome,” you said as she left

~~~

Not long after Finnick entered the room. You quickly stood and ran to hug his tall frame placing your arms around his shoulders. “Not that I'm complaining, but what’s this for?” He asked as his arms slithered around your waist. You looked up at him with the most love-filled eyes you’d ever given him. “Thank you for not giving up on me,” you said. “Finnick was still confused and he let the confusion show on his face “Of course not,” he said. You backed away “I had a visit from Katniss, she thanked me for everything but she told me something else.” You said to him, he nodded telling you to go on. “She said you stuck up for me to Johanna. Told her and everyone else that you were more likely to kill them than me.” You said as tears brimmed your eyes. “What did I do to deserve you?” You asked. Finnick leaned down and placed his lips to yours, capturing you in a love-filled kiss as his arms brought you closer to his body. He kissed you as if his love depended on it like all his love for you was in that single kiss. He pulled away but kept you close. “Y/n, you have the most amazing soul I’ve ever seen. And people deserve to see it, to feel what it’s like to be cared for by you, even if it isn’t romantically. Y/n you are a gem, with such rarity that anyone would live poor just to have you by their side.” He said with the softest eyes, a voice so full of emotion that you couldn’t pinpoint which one was which. “I love you Finn,” you said, in this situation you didn’t know what else to say. “I love you too darling,” he said pressing another kiss to your lips.

#finnick x reader #finnick imagine #finnick x oc #thg finnick #finnick fanfic #hunger games finnick #finnick odair #finnick odair x reader smut #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair x reader #finnick x you #finnick x y/n #katniss everdeen #katniss x reader

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

You Call It Madness But I Call It Love

Chapter 15: What Do You Know About Love?

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fifteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 6.5K (I got carried away again)

Warnings: References to sex, Cursing, Angst, Crying,  Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.

Note: This is told from the Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

**************************************

Present Day *Reader POV*

The shopping bags that hung from your arms would have been heavy for the average person, but for you it seemed like a bag full of pillows. It was the day after you saw Rosemary and said goodbye. Despite the almost excruciating hangover you had this morning, because it'd been almost forty years since you last had a drink, you dragged yourself to the mall to try and find outfits for your trip to Russia. You were satisfied with the few outfits you found, but you were worried because the plane left in a few hours and you were no where near ready.

Mentally or physically.

As much as you wanted to go help Ben, you still were apprehensive about the whole situation, not just about going in blind, but wondering what the hell you were going to do when you saw Ben. You wanted to hold on to your anger, but you were afraid that the moment you looked into his green eyes you would forgive him.

I am not going to forgive him. I'm going to break him out then tell him to fuck off and I never have to see him ever again.

Despite your apprehension, you knew that you had to do this, that you had to go help him even if you still hated him because you couldn't bear the thought of the boy you grew up with being tortured over there all alone. It was the alone part that hurt the most. You knew how much Ben hated being alone. He never had to say it out loud, but all the time you'd spent together in your bedroom before and after the injection spoke volumes.

Of course you still had no idea where you were going, but figured that if you went to the Kremlin you could get some answers, which meant you'd either have to lie your way in or just kill anyone in your path. Which would be messy, but necessary. You try to shake off the guilt of exposing yourself again and what that could mean for Rosemary and Lou. You made sure that Rosemary knew to pack a bag for herself and for Lou and told her to wait for your call.

You wanted to be there to escort them out of the city, didn't want to split up and have them get snagged while you were waiting for them at the rendezvous point, so you told Rosemary to take a few days off and lay low.

When you get to the outside door of your apartment building toting the bags, you notice that it's been broken, as if someone tried to pull it off its hinges.

Well that's great. Hopefully the building manager noticed that.

Your mind drifts back to Ben as you step into the elevator.

What if he isn't alive when I get there? It was an unwelcome thought, but it meant that you wouldn't have to talk to him.

 Maybe if I knock him out when I get there and just leave him in a Russian motel somewhere, I won't have to talk to him. You pause. Will he want to talk to me? 

The memory of the last time you spoke flashes through your mind bringing an unmeasurable amount of rage and heartbreak back over your body. The dam you built to keep out everything that happened was reaching capacity, especially given the recent events with Countess, and you knew that the moment you saw Ben it was going to burst open. You hoped that you'd be able to keep it together long enough to get out of the lab or wherever the hell he was being held, before you lost it. But it was doubtful.

As you walk down the hallway to you apartment, you notice that your front door is open and you stop walking. Apprehension spikes at the back of your mind as you examine the door. The lock is broken and  door is cracked just enough for you to hear people talking inside in hushed tones. You creep forward and look through the crack.

You've got to be kidding me. You groan to yourself noticing Butcher and Hughie standing in your living room.

Great. Just what I need. Right when I'm going to leave they show up. Guess that explains the mystery of the broken door downstairs.

You think about walking away, of going back down the elevator and hoping that by the time you come back they would be gone, but you knew you had to face them and you still had to pack. So you push open the front door of your apartment and step into the room.

"You know when I called saying that I had something else to say about Soldier Boy, I assumed you would call, not break into my apartment." You sigh before moving to the right side of the counter that divides the room between the living room and the kitchen and depositing the shopping bags on the stainless steel top.

"Maybe you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked poppet. Anyone could walk in." Butcher replies with a grin.

"Hmm. Sure. You guys here for more coffee?"

"Go shopping did you?" Butcher ignores your snark eyeing the bags.

"Yeah I needed a few new outfits for my art show next month." The lie is easy, but you know that the sudden appearance of the two of them probably meant you were caught red handed. Of course now with everything that happened with Countess, you didn't care anymore if Butcher and Hughie knew who you really were. "You doing okay there Hughie?" You raise an eyebrow as you notice how his heartbeat has spiked since you entered the apartment.

"Good." He says, but he looks uneasy.

Well, guess he's afraid of me now.

"Huh. And here I thought you were replacing your jacket." Butcher throws your ruined jacket onto the floor between you.

You look from the jacket to Butcher. You hadn't bought a replacement and hadn't wanted to throw it out. You were still hoping that the scorch marks looked like you had "distressed" it. It didn't and you knew that, but you loved that coat so much.

"See, I think it’s a big coincidence that Countess got right fucked after we came and talked to you." Butcher smiles.

"Probably the same coincidence as Gunpowder dying before you showed up here the first time." You breeze with a tight-lipped smile.

Where was he going with this? Was he here to kill me? You think about what Legend said about Butcher killing supes.

"That looks bad." Butcher gestures to the jacket. "You have a little spat with your good friend?”

"Let's just say she said a few things that upset me." Your eyes skate from Butcher to Hughie sizing them up. "If you're here to kill me, you're welcome to try. Oh sorry,  'arrest me'." You make air quotes around the words. "But we both know you're not government agents, you reek of Compound V and the last time I checked there was that whole, no supes in the government thing."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to get this out of the way the first time?" Hughie asks.

"I didn't want to be involved." You shrug your shoulders.

"Then why you'd buy a plane ticket to Russia?" Butcher takes a step towards you, but you hold your ground.

You weren't afraid of him.

"I hear it's nice this time of year. Not too hot, not too cold. Very pleasant." You snap back at him eyes narrowed, before you look down at the antique watch on your wrist. "Look I'd love to have a heart to heart, but I just don't have time to do this little dance with you. So we can either get to the part where you try to kill me or-" You raise your gaze from the watch to glare back at Butcher, but then your eyes focus on the hallway behind him and your heart stops.

Ben is standing there in the shadows looking at you the same way he always has, with those wonderful piercing green eyes that makes all other memories of them be put to shame. He's dressed in modern clothes, wearing a dark green shirt that hugs his perfect muscular chest and is the same color of his suit, your favorite color and the one you can never look at without thinking of him because damn it, it's also the color of his eyes. He looks the same, but different. His hair is longer and darker than it was the last time you saw him and his cheeks are covered by a trimmed but thick beard. It was unusual given that you'd never seen him with more than just a little bit of stubble and annoying because it makes him look even more ruggedly handsome, but despite the piercing way his eyes follow you, you can see a haunting memory of the last forty years.

You're upset that the one of the first thoughts you'd had beside staring at him open mouthed is that you wished you were wearing something more flattering than one of your pairs of paint splattered overalls over an old band t-shirt. You were going to Russia to get him and yes maybe you were shopping for things that you could move in, but you had picked out a particular revenge outfit that you believed would make Ben regret everything he did to you and also might have been paired with a particularly badass set of boots that made your legs look very long. The outfit that made you feel beautiful and sexy was unlike the one you were wearing at the moment. Also because you hadn't brushed your hair today and had just stuck it up in a messy bun at the back of your head.

You're struck with the urge to run to him and kill him at the same time, but you can't move and you can’t think.

Apart of you believed that you would find him dead in Russia, a sad thought but it meant that you wouldn't have to relive everything all over again. Everything that went to shit the last 24 hours you spent together that you relived with Countess the other day and now you were reliving when you looked at him standing there looking better than he should.

Because damn it, only Ben could be tortured in a lab for the past 40 years and walk away looking like a GQ model. I've never hated anyone more.

"Ben?" Your voice is no more than a hoarse whisper.

Ben pushes past Hughie and Butcher, taking careful steps towards you like he doesn't want to scare you away. "Y/n." The sound of your name on his lips fills you with an inescapable amount of warmth.

Traitor. You think to yourself at your body’s reaction.

He's standing so close to you now that you can smell the same shampoo and aftershave he always used and it brings back memories of the nights he spent in your bed with you laughing and talking like nothing had changed making you feel alive again for the first time in forty years. Before everything went into the blender set to puree.

Ben's eyes trace your body like he can't believe you're standing in front of him making you wish again that you're wearing the outfit you picked out so that you could look as good as he does. And just as he raises his hand towards your face you remember why you hated him, remember that night, remember what Countess said that caused her to lose her head.

Your hand flashes out so quick you don't think Ben notices it until it lands with a resounding slap against his cheek that sends him reeling back from you. Your strengths were similar, almost identical, and if he hadn't been invulnerable it would have ripped his perfect jaw from his face.

"What the fuck was that for?" Ben snaps, green eyes blazing as he looks back at you.

"You've got some nerve coming back here after all these years." You spit, the anger rising in your chest with wings of fury that beat against your ribcage. "Did you really think that you could just say my name again and make me forget everything that happened Benjamin? I am not one of those trashy women that you used to fuck and the fact that you think you can show up here, give me the fucking puppy dog eyes, and think that I’ll swoon, is ridiculous!”

There goes the dam.

Your gaze levels on Hughie and Butcher who look just as stunned. "And you two. Why did you bring him here? I didn’t want any part of this!”

"Why did you pretend to be dead!" Hughie shouts back.

"Did you think that maybe that was me trying to tell you that I didn't want to be involved? Or are you two just that fucking stupid?"

"Why did you buy a plane ticket then?" Butcher asks again, raising an eyebrow.

Ben is watching you with anger burning in his eyes. It's difficult for you to look at him. Every time you do you think about your last night together, the morning after when he pushed you away, and finally the night where he ripped out your heart and stomped all over it.

How did I ever think I could look at him again when I got him out of Russia?

"Because even though I hate him. He doesn't deserve that. The Ben I knew would have come to get me, and I wasn't going to leave him to rot in some fucking Russian prison." You snap back. "Now get out of my apartment."

"Sweetheart-" Ben begins to say.

"No. No. No. I don't want to hear it from you. Nothing you can say can make this better. I’m glad you’re free or whatever, but go. Get out." You push past him, but Ben's hand flashes out and grabs your wrist with enough force that you feel the bruising of your skin.

"No." He towers over you.

"Let. Me. Go." Your eyes narrow shifting to bright purple. The entire room begins to tremble, the glass windows shake in their panes and the glass jars full of paint brushes on your studio table begin to clink against one another. But he doesn't remove his hand.

"Not until you listen." Ben's own green eyes have hardened into a emerald.

You latch onto the wrist that is holding you and break his grip, before spinning and throwing him backward across the room away from you. Ben's body flies past Hughie and Butcher who watch with wide eyes as he hits the back of the couch and pinwheels over it with a loud thud as he lands on the cushions. You would have rather thrown him into the brick living room wall, but you restrained yourself.

"I don't want to hear anything you have to say Benjamin. You said enough that night and apparently you were saying lots of things to Countess about me. So get out." Your eyes skate across Butcher and Hughie. "All of you."

Hughie is still watching you with wide eyes, like he can't believe that just happened.

Join the club kid.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Ben shouts, standing from the couch and straightening his clothes. You don't need to be a psychic to know how angry he is. In fact, you're surprised he's not throwing you out the window or at least throwing a punch. Ben didn't tolerate it when anyone put him in his place and it definitely looks like it's taking him an extreme amount of effort not to attack you, given the way his hands are clenched into fists and the way his jaw is tensed so tightly you can see the muscle flexing.

"She told me what you said about me. That you threw me a pity fuck because you felt sorry for me, that you were bored when we had sex because I was so inexperienced."

"It's not true."

"Isn’t it?" You're trying desperately not to cry, but the angry tears have already begun to well up in your eyes. "The last thing you sad to me was that I was pathetic and that you never would love me, never could love me. That you fucked me because you felt bad for me and you wished I would just fuck off. That I was just another warm pussy and that I meant nothing to you. So forgive me for not believing you."

"Oh shit." Butcher mutters under his breath.

"Damn." Hughie echoes.

"I know what I said to you, Y/n. I've spent the past 40 years regretting it-" Ben begins to say, but you interrupt him.

"Oh I'm so sure. The Great Soldier Boy actually has a conscience, let me just alert the media." You spit back. "Oh wait, sorry you wouldn't want that getting out would you Ben? Because that would mean you aren't a man."

"Y/n-" He growls.

"You don't get to come in here and apologize and act like you did nothing wrong. You're not here because you feel sorry, you're here because you want me to dote on you, to follow you around and give a shit like I did for 40 fucking years.”

“Y/n-“

"Stop saying my name like that!" You shout and the glass sugar dish on the counter flies off the counter and smashes into the floor sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hughie flinches.

"Like what?" Ben exclaims.

"Like you care." You cross your arms over your chest staring him down because you don't want to keep crying.

"I do fucking care about you-" Ben snaps running his hand through his dark hair frustrated.

"No you don't. You never did. You’ve made that perfectly clear.”

"Yes I do."

"Please stop talking."

"What else do you want me to say?" Ben shouts back, moving towards you. "I'm trying to fucking apologize-"

"I don't want you to say anything and I don't want to hear your half-assed apology! I want you to leave. You and your creepy friends." You gesture back to where Hughie and Butcher are watching with open mouths, who are unsure if they should leave or watch the show.

"They're not my friends."

"And neither am I! Which means I don’t have to listen to anything you have to say!”

"Y/n please-" His teeth are gritted together.

“I'm not some fangirl Ben. I was your friend, your friend before any of this. Before any of this fucking supe shit. I cared about you. I had been in love with you since I was 8. I had taken care of you since the night we met." More tears squeeze down your cheeks as a lifetime of happy memories before everything went down the drain wash over you. The wonderful times you'd shared together at the park, in your bedroom back in Philadelphia, dancing in the dancehall,  at baseball games and Ben walking you home all the while you wobbled down the street drunkenly and sang off key. All the blissful little moments that you thought maybe he felt the same way about you and then followed by the moments you spent together the night of your birthday, when you felt more special and loved than you'd ever had. It makes the knife he stuck in your back even sharper. 

"That night we spent together meant everything to me. I thought it was special and I thought you loved me. But you don't. You just fucked me because you were bored and you found the first person who said yes.” Your body turns away, but he grabs you by the shoulders to make you look at him.

"I do love you damnit!" He shouts. "I didn't want to-" Ben's jaw clenches in frustration, looking back at Butcher and Hughie. "Can you two just fuck off?"

"I wish you all would." You say, trying to loosen his grip on your shoulders, but he doesn't let go. You think about throwing him across the room again, because it made you feel a lot better.

"Fine. We'll be outside." Butcher says tugging Hughie away.

"Are you sure?" Hughie asks looking from you to Ben as if he's worried to leave the two of you alone.

"You want to be here? Because they're either going to kill each other or start fucking." Butcher responds.

"We are not going to start-" You begin, but they're already out the front door of your apartment leaving you alone with Ben, who is still holding on to your shoulders.

"Please listen to me." Ben says looking deep into your eyes. "When you said that you loved me it-" He stops looking for the right word as if he can't say the next ones that come out of his mouth. "Oh fuck it, it fucking scared me. Okay?  It scared me, Y/n, and damnit I'm not a pussy! I'm not afraid of anything!"

“Oh no you could never be a pussy could you? Soldier Boy could never admit that he had real feelings for someone.” Your voice wobbles, tears trailing down your cheeks as you poke him in the chest to emphasize every word. “And now you’re just saying what I want to hear, because you want to have another quick fuck!” You push your hands against his chest trying to push him off of you, but he won't let go. "You're just saying it because its been forty years since you had sex and you thought, huh might as well find the most pathetic person I know, Y/n won't say no if I pretend to be everything she wanted again."

He doesn't mean it. He doesn't love me.

"I’m not lying to you! And I’m not pretending! I wasn't pretending that night either!” Ben roars so loudly you flinch. “That night I felt things with you that I had never felt with anyone else. It wasn't cheap sex or a quick fuck-" His jaw tightens as if he's embarrassed to admit it. "Damn it.” His teeth are gritted together. “We made love. I understood that when I woke up the next morning and I was happy to be there with you. I knew that I loved you and I wanted to tell you, but I fucked it all up instead. I fucked Countess because I was scared of what loving you meant. But I’m ready now, I’m not scared anymore. I love you!”

He's saying everything you always wanted him to, but you're scared. Scared that he's just saying it, that he thinks it's what you want to hear and this is the only way that he can get you back into his life because he needs someone to follow him around, because he can't be alone.

You stand there for a minute taking in his stance. His head is slightly bowed in shame, shoulders tight, body leaning towards you. But then you catch his eye, you see the sorrow, frustration, and pain in his gaze. Ben was not big on sharing feelings and for him to admit all of these things aloud was shocking enough without the obvious emotions flashing in his eyes. It was so different than the stoic or pissed off attitude he usually had when he was Soldier Boy. The look in his eyes is so earnest and Ben has never been a good liar, not to you anyway. You always knew what he was thinking.

If I forgive him then what does that mean? I forget the past 40 years like they never happened? I forget all the tears when he broke my heart? Forget how broken I was? How broken I still am?

You think of all the times you missed him, all the times you forgot about what he said to you and remembered the good, all the times you wanted him there with you and Rosemary because you knew he would love to be there. All the early memories together, all the missions, everything that lead up to the falling out and Ben’s supposed death. Ben's admission of guilt and his confession of love for you was shocking. Especially because the Ben you knew 40 years ago would have rather dropped dead than say the words "make love."

No. I won't give in. I can't do this, I can't do this all over again. I was better, I was moving on, he doesn't have the right to come here and mess up my life all over again.

"No." You shout, shoving him away with all your strength. Ben stumbles backward, his eyes wide as if he wasn't expecting you to push him away, because of course he wasn't. “You don’t know anything about love. You’re just saying that because you know it’s what I want to hear, what I’ve always wanted you to say to me.”

He still doesn't understand how much he hurt me. And he doesn't deserve my forgiveness.

“I’m not just saying that, it’s true. Please y/n-“

"I don't believe you. And when I said I never wanted to see you ever again I wasn't lying. So get out Ben!" You shout.

"No. I love you and I'm not leaving." Ben says back determined.

You weren't prepared for what those words did to you. You weren't prepared for the floodgate of emotions that exploded the moment those words passed through his lips or the way it felt like you were being tugged in two different directions. Because despite wanting to throw him across the room again, those three little words made you want to run into his arms and hold him close, made you want him to take you to bed and make you forget all the shitty things that happened forty years ago, make it like he never left.

But you couldn't do it. As much as you wanted to forgive him, you couldn't because you didn't trust him anymore, you didn't trust that he could give you what you wanted.

“Too bad! I won’t do this to myself again. All I did was care about you, help you. I stood by you and made excuses for the person you became and I held on to this picture of the boy you used to be. The one I fell in love with. The one that used to climb in my window when things were hard. The one that took me to my first baseball game. The one who danced with me. The one that made me feel like less of a freak because he understood me. And the one that begged me to leave Howard and everything I knew and come with him. That night we were together I saw that boy again.  I loved that boy. I would have done anything for him and I did. But he’s not here anymore. And I hate myself for holding on to him as long as I did.”

"But I told you I loved you!" Ben exclaims.

“Just saying that isn’t enough, not after everything that happened!” You shout. "You're forty years too late Benjamin. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m exhausted and I’m going to go to bed. And I don’t want you to be here when I wake up.”

"Y/n please-" You hate how he sounds when he says it, like he's broken, because Ben has never once sounded that way in all the years you'd known him. You hate how he looks. How his dark hair is falling forward into his face and he looks so much like the boy you used to love that it makes you want to scream, because you wanted to believe that he was gone, but all you see when you look up at him is that boy. There is not one shred of Soldier Boy in the way he looks right now and you hate that. You hate that you wanted to forgive him, that all it took was him looking like at you like that. But you still can't do it.

"Just go." Your throat thickening as you say it, fresh tears trailing down your cheeks. "I don't want you here. I never want you to come here ever. I never want to see you again.” You lie pushing past him and walk down the dark hallway, slamming and locking your bedroom door behind you. Your body sinks to the floor as you pull your knees up into your chest, sobs shaking your body and tears pour from your eyes.

How many tears can I spend on one man? How do I still have any left after all these years? How could I have been stupid to think that I was over him? That I could just go to Russia, break him out, and then push him out of my life so easily? None of what just happened was easy.

Your face presses into your knees. You want to call Rosemary, call her and tell her what happened, but your phone is still on the counter and you couldn't go back out there, because you knew he was still there. Standing in your living room looking too perfect after all these years and saying all the things you always wanted him to and you don’t want to go out there and forgive him.

So you stay. Your back pressed against the door, crying into your knees and hoping that this will just all end.

Because it’s got to one day right?

***************************************************

*Soldier Boy POV*

He hadn't meant to reach for you, but all he wanted was to feel the gentle swell of your cheek beneath the palm of his hand, the smoothness of your skin against his rough fingertips, and to memorize the planes of your face with his touch. You were even more beautiful than he remembered. Your curves perfectly accentuated by a pair of cute paint splattered overalls that made him smile, and your hair pulled away from your face in a messy bun but still made you look effortless and striking. When he saw you standing there, it was like taking a punch to the gut. He knew that he missed you, but seeing you there warm and alive made him want to crush you against his chest and never let you go ever again.

He had laid himself bare before you, allowing himself to push through the urge  to shove all his emotions back beneath the surface as his father taught him, and spoke, instead, the words he wished that he had said all those years ago.

Ben's shoulders tense when he thinks of what you shouted back at him, how broken you looked. His heart falls into the pit of his stomach when he remembers the tears in your eyes. Ben hated it when you cried. He also hated that the first time he saw you in forty years he made you cry, again.

He didn't know how to fix this. Ben thought that his apology would be enough to make you at least try to forgive him, but it hadn't. You had shoved him away from you, refused to let him touch you or comfort you-

Why is she so damn stubborn? I apologized! I told her that I loved her! Isn’t that what she wanted?

He grits his teeth together thinking about how you threw him across the room like he weighed nothing. If anyone else had done that to him, Ben would have killed them, but he knew that he deserved it. He knew you would be mad, but he thought that you would at least want to hear everything he had to say instead of cursing him out and slamming the door in his face.

When you slammed your door behind you, he had stood outside of it for an hour listening to you cry, heard your soft muffled sobs. At one point he leaned his head against the door and wished you would let him in so he could hold you while you cried, even though the thought made him feel like a pussy. He wanted to comfort you. He wished you had forgiven him, allowed him to take you to bed, allowed him to show you how sorry he was and how much he loved you. He wished that you let him help you forget the last shitty forty years that you spent without him, forget what he said and what he did to you that night. 

The harsh words you yelled at him make him flinch, when you told him that you didn't want him there and never wanted him to come back. They were the words that he always feared you would say to him when he climbed in through your window at night or when he showed up at your apartment when you were still on Payback. And hearing you say those words felt worse than anything those Russian fucks did to him. Because Ben didn't know where he belonged if he wasn't with you, he didn't know what to do if you weren't in his life, you were the only thing that mattered.

How could I fuck this up this much?

Ben looks back at the clock on the wall in the kitchen which shows he'd been there for three hours waiting for you to come out of your room, but you hadn't. He knew it was because you fell asleep, he could hear your heart beat, your soft breath against the pillows, and the almost silent sounds you made when you slept. They were exactly the same as when he would fall asleep next to you and damn it he didn't realize how much he missed them until this exact moment.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. How do I fucking fix this?

Ben stands from the couch and walks down the hallway for the millionth time to stand outside your door preparing to knock, but he didn't know what to say. He thought that he'd said enough, but judging by your reaction he hadn't.

The thought of saying anything else was difficult for him to swallow. It was hard enough to say what he had to you, but he was realizing he was going to have to delve even deeper to make you even look at him again or want to be around him. 

Finally he goes to the front door of your apartment before he looks back down the hallway. He didn't want to leave, didn't want you to wake up and him not be there despite what you said about wanting him to leave. He wanted you to understand that he wasn't going anywhere and that he was never going to leave you ever again no matter how hard you tried to push him away. But he needed to leave now, not for long, just long enough for him to get what he needed.

He had seen the florist shop on the corner when Butcher drove up. As Ben walked down the street in the direction of the florist he remembered the conversation he had with Butcher after you slammed your door in his face. Convincing Butcher to let him remain in the apartment was difficult, but finally when Ben threatened to rip Hughie in half, Butcher relented stating that he would give Ben one night with you before he came back. That was the deal anyway, Ben had lied, because like hell he was going to leave now that he'd found you again.

Ben wasn't planning on leaving and  even if you couldn't stand to look at him, Ben would not go. Even if it meant sleeping on that shitty couch every night.

He would never leave you again.

The smell of the flowers wafted out of the small shop when Ben opens the door, his eyes skating across the numerous bouquets, each one more extravagant than the last. Other women would swoon over them, but not you. His eyes fall first on roses, but he turns away. He knew that you didn’t like roses, although many believed them to be classic, Ben knew that you thought over the years that roses had become generic and overused. He of course had sent some to numerous women over the years, but he liked that you were different. He always liked that about you. He rolls his eyes when he remembered when Howard bought you some every week.

Because of course that asshole didn’t know what y/n liked. No one knows her as well as me.

The man behind the counter eyes him when he walks in. "Can I help you find something sir?"

"No." Ben says gruffy looking at the displays again, but then he sighs. "Do you have any lavender?"

"Lavender?"

"Yeah." Ben knew it was the only thing that you would accept, knew that it was your favorite because it reminded you of the house your family rented over the summers up North. Ben hated those summers. He'd break into your bedroom and sleep in your bed while thinking of you and reading the letters you sent him over and over again, the ones that you pressed fresh lavender into and the ones that made him realize just how much he needed you.

Those of course weren’t the only letters you ever sent him. When he went to boarding school he’d wait for you to send him a letter and one of your doodles or a small painting. He kept every one in a cigar box under his bed. It was why he was kicked out of boarding school number nine, a fight he had with another student began because the student had found the box and then proceeded to mock Ben endlessly by passing around the letters you sent him. Ben had never told you what the fight was about.

Ben stops as he realizes how he’s going to get you to listen to him.

“Here you are sir.” The florist reappears at the counter holding a large vase of freshly cut lavender.

“Do you have a phone I can borrow?” Ben asks.

“Sure.”

The object the man hands him is not a phone, well not a phone that Ben’s ever seen before.

“I said a phone-“

“That is a phone?” The man looks confused.

“How do I fucking call someone with this?” Ben sighs shaking the black rectangle in his hand and looking for the buttons.

The man takes the object and swipes his fingers across it before handing it back to him so Ben can see the numbers to dial. “Just push what you want and hit the green button.” The man says, looking at Ben like he's crazy.

“Oh. Thanks.” He mutters, before dialing the number and holding the phone up to his ear.

Legend answers on the first ring.

“Hey it’s me. Do you still have all my old shit from my apartment?”

“Somewhere.”

“I’ll be there in 10 minutes.”

******************************************

N/A: Why not end on a cliffhanger? This chapter is a bit longer, because this week is CRAZY for me and I'm not sure when I'll be able to write the next chapter. But I'm not giving up on these two. They deserve the world.

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you guys think. If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know :)

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[some-pers0n]

Back on my Peril ramblings again guys

Peril is a character with a lot of polarizing opinions. You've got some people who love her to death, while others who, well, don't. The people who dislike her will go about how she's obsessive. Too clingy and relies far too much on Clay. That or go on about how she's just rude, mean, dangerous, and overall kind of a bad person. I...couldn't disagree more if I'll be blunt.

For starters, Peril is in a difficult situation. She was molded and shaped by her childhood. What she is now is a product of being raised as a living weapon. She was seen as being dangerous and a blight on dragon society. A hazard that, at any moment, could kill somebody. She is danger. She is peril.

Scarlet took hold of that. Scarlet manipulated this tiny dragonet that she stole away from her mother and raised her, feeding her lies in order to keep her docile and dependent. She was never alone. Never to act on her own accord. Anything she did was first of all approved by Scarlet, somebody she trusted and loved in a way. All Peril ever knew was hate and fear, so a dragon showing her any other emotions felt like love.

Peril is...unstable to say the very least. Like I just said, she's got a warped sense of relationships due to her upbringing. She has literally nobody outside the walls of the SkyWing palace. She clings to those she deems as friends and loved ones as she knows nothing else. She craves that feeling of love and especially touch. She has never known the love of a mother's hug. She has never felt the wings of a friend comforting her in a time of crisis. She only wants to be held and loved, but she cannot. She was born wrong. She is unlovable in her eyes. That's what everyone tells her at least.

It's when Clay comes along that things change. For once, she's seeing a dragon who, while still kinda scared of her...is respectful. He holds conversations with her. He's nice, friendly, and when she hears that he tried killing his troop, she immediately relates. It's one of those things that I feel Sick about, where in Clay and Peril both are deemed to be monsters since the moment they hatched when in reality they weren't at fault for anything. Clay and Peril are so good when you actually treat them like characters.

The point is that Peril sees herself in Clay. For the first time ever, she finds a dragon like her. A dragon that at the very least tolerates her. After years of abuse and being shunned and seen as nothing more than a monster, it's basically like Clay is giving her a boquete of roses and confessing his undying love.

She becomes obsessed, even more so when she's eventually free from Scarlet, but that comes later. She holds him to such high regards and views him as a dragon she wants to be around. She's easily jealous when other dragons talk to him. She's protective and constantly wants to be near him. She adores him.

Yada yada, the whole fight scene happens between her and Clay. Scarlet notices that Peril is rather fond of Clay and is using her emotions to manipulate her further. Again, Scarlet is extremely manipulative of Peril. She's the one who molded her into this. She's the one who was responsible for this. She's the one who made Peril feel as though all she could ever be in life was a murder machine, and that Scarlet was doing her a favour by letting that be her existence as opposed to killing her. Scarlet made Peril dependent on her.

So when she's gone...Peril feels lost. She feels like she's the blame for one of the very, very few dragons in her life that at least cared about her being gone. Now she's alone and seen once again as a creep. A weirdo. She doesn't belong here, not in the Sky Kingdom. Osprey is dead (another example of Scarlet toying with Peril's emotions cause the one time she acts out she has to suffer for it) and she's just tossed into the world without warning.

She in turn seeks out Scarlet, eventually finding her. Despite all of the abuse and suffering that Scarlet has put her through, she has nobody else. Scarlet's twisted and distorted love is the only thing she knows. She feels guilty for everything that happened to her.

I think it's easy for people to not really understand Peril if they don't really get her situation. What I lay it out, it sounds pretty easy to understand. Peril is a deeply traumatized and abused character who is shaped by her trauma and struggles to exist in this world as she only knows to kill. She's trying to unlearn all of this. She wants to be better. She's trying to be better.

That's what Escaping Peril is all about: Peril's recovery.

Escaping Peril is the conclusion to Peril's arc, with her coming to grips and terms with her trauma and by the end realizing that she is her own person. Over the course of the book, she struggles a lot. She goes back and forth on her feelings with Scarlet, conflicted on whether she loves her or wants to kill her. Perhaps both at the same time. It's messy and she feels lost and hopeless.

The only real thing that seems to be a beacon of light in her life is Clay, whom is basically not even in this book. Clay is her moral compass here. Anything she does has to be something she believes Clay would approve of. She's doing the exact same thing that she's done for years with Scarlet because, yet again, it's literally the only thing she knows. She is a deeply hurt character who struggles with the whole morality thing because ever since she was a dragonet she's been a child solider. She's trying to unlearn it all.

Which is helped significantly with her friends, namely Turtle. She isn't alone. She has a group of dragons who care for her and like her the way she is. Again, the themes of friendship and togetherness is a very strong one in this arc. The Jade Winglet learn how to be themselves and how they don't need to pretend to be somebody they aren't with a group of dragons who love them for who they are.

Peril...learns. She learns. She grows. I cannot emphasize this enough since some of you guys still don't get that part. Her character shifts and changes and develops over the course of this book. She learns that she doesn't need to depend on somebody for her own actions. Hell, by the end of the book, she burns the scroll of her own volition, knowing fully well that Clay would've hated that. She's acting of her own accord. She learns that she's not a monster and doesn't need to have her flamescales be repressed to be liked.

She's a deeply traumatized character who is trying to get better. She has been getting better, and she will only get better with time. She's happy now. She's happy with her friends and loved ones. Everything will be okay.

#wof #sp-rambles #wings of fire #peril wof #She's also got BPD trust me I'm literally Tui

[elisysd]

12. Don't give me up, cause what about, what about angels

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: What About Angels - Birdy

Charles saw you tensing after your mother’s cold greeting. He hated how you flinched as she was reminding you that being late was disrespectful towards your dad’s special day, that being away from home and in a big city had made you lose sight of the values they had taught you. But he hated even more how you simply smiled and apologized. He needed all his self control to not take your side, he knew how anxious this whole situation was making you feel, he didn’t want to make it worse by saying something he knew wouldn’t be well received.

The first thing he noticed in the house’s hall was the amount of family pictures, but instead of four people on them were only three. He recognised your mom, assumed the man beside her was your dad and when he thought he would notice you, it was instead your little brother. He couldn't be wrong, he looked exactly like you. The pictures were cut in a certain way that didn’t take him a long time to understand that you had been cut out of them. He felt a wave of rage hitting him. Why make you come here if your parents had gone to such an extent as to erase every trace of your existence? It was a twisted joke.

“You don’t even call anymore, Y/N. I knew it would happen, I’ve always said that being in a world full of sparks and empty promises would change you. You’re too gullible. You don’t even have time for your own family anymore. Not that you ever had.”

“You’ve never tried to ask questions about my job…” you mumbled as Charles put a comforting hand on your hip.

“I don’t need to. I know exactly what you do, you’re the talk of the town. The small town girl made it to the TV. There is no reason to be proud, playing a pretty face on tv… that is not what I raised you to be. And now you’re associating yourself with fair-weather friends…” she said, darting judgmental eyes on Charles. “I know exactly who you are.”

He didn’t have the time to reply as your dad entered the room and sat on the chair without a word. You sat too, Charles close to you as your mom joined your dad’s side. 

“How nice it is to finally see you alive.” he said, making you gulp.

“I’m Charles, your daughter’s boyfriend. Nice to meet you.” he introduced himself in a desperate attempt to drive the conversation away from you and the relieved sigh you let out made him think that you appreciated it. 

Lunch was awkward, punctuated with snarky comments here and there that you tried your best to ignore. Charles was trying to do the same but it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his calm. But it was when cake was brought that resentment and unspoken words finally came out in the open. You had taken your phone out of your pocket, wanting to show your parents all the beautiful landscapes you had the chance to witness. 

“Aren’t you ashamed?” your mom muttered.

“Why?” you turned your head to look at her in disbelief.

“Ashamed of following the sport that killed your brother. Ashamed of being with the man responsible for his death.” she sternly said.

You felt like a million daggers stabbing your heart all at once. You took a deep breath, putting your hand on his thigh, squeezing it lightly to indicate to him  not to react. It was something you had to do alone.

“F1 and Charles didn’t kill Luc, it was his leukemia, not anything else.” you replied, feeling a lump in your throat.

“If you had not introduced your brother to that stupid sport, he wouldn’t have been a fan and his illness wouldn't have turned that bad so quickly. He wasn’t talking about anything else than that sport and you. Until his very last breath. His last words were about Formula 1. It took my baby away from me and this is your fault. Both of you.” she finished, turning to Charles this time.

“If I can add something… I know I have no right to comment on this situation but even if I understand your pain, Y/N is not the one to blame. She…” Charles started, quickly shutted up by your dad.

“You’re right, you have no right to say a  thing. You don’t know what it is like to lose a son.”

“Maybe I don’t, yeah. But I know exactly what it feels like to lose a parent. I understand your pain. Truly. But with all due respect, you’ve already lost a son, you should be more careful to not lose a daughter by pushing her away and making her feel like a stranger in her own family.”

“We’ve already lost her the minute she decided to not show up at the funeral.” your mom spitted, making you close your eyes, trying to not cry. You wouldn’t give that pleasure to your parents.

“I think it’s best if we leave. It was a bad idea to come here, anyway.” you ended up saying, standing up, Charles following you. “You shouldn’t have invited me in the first place, if it was to treat me that way.”

You took Charles’ hand in yours and dragged him out of what had been once your safe place. Without a word you made your way to his car and rushed inside and it was only when the door was closed and that he had taken place behind the wheel that you broke down. He didn’t hesitate to pull you on his lap and let you cry on his shoulder, holding you tight.

“It’s okay, babe… you’re okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to feel bad, you have nothing to feel bad about. If you were believing your mom’s lies, I understand why you were so mean to me at the beginning now.”

“She is not entirely wrong, you know.” you sniffed in his neck. “At least about one thing, I should’ve been there for Luc’s funeral. But it was too hard for me. I didn’t want to face the fact that I would never see him again. I didn’t want to make the nightmare I was in real. because if I was going, it would happen exactly that. It would have made the pain real and permanent. I couldn’t.”

You put your forehead against his, trying to find a way to ground you. Charles drew small patterns on your hips, comforting you the best he could. 

“Let’s get some fresh air, okay?” he whispered against your ear.

You got out of the car and hand in hand you started to wander the streets of your childhood, telling him anecdotes and facts of any buildings and streets you were walking on and seeing.

“Tell me about Luc.” 

“What do you want to know?” 

“Everything. Whatever you want. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing with me.”

“He was passionate. About many things. History and art mostly. He wanted to work in a museum. And passionate about F1 of course. He knew a lot of mechanical stuff, more than I did. He taught me as much as I did, I swear. Maybe more. I was spending my weekends at the hospital with him to watch the races. When he was hospitalized, it was what kept him going. It was our thing, you know. Wait, I think I have a picture to show you.”

She took a photo out of her wallet and gave it to him. If he didn’t know it was a hospital room, he would have had a hard time guessing it. Everywhere were Ferrari and monegasque flags as well as a lot of merch. He was recognising one of his caps on the bedside table. Posters of his podiums were hung on the walls, his Monza’s win right above Luc’s head. Small replicas of his trophies were there too as well as miniatures of his helmets.

“A real fan.” he smiled.

“The best.” you sighed. “ You don’t know how happy he was when you won in Monza. It brought so much joy in his life. Even if it wasn’t for long. It was a tough time, he had just started to get hospitalized, he was very sick and pale and the shell of what he once was. And suddenly, he was feeling a little more alive. Because of you. Then, time went by and I had to leave for New York. It was the toughest decision I had to make in my life. At some point I was ready to take a year off so I could be with him…” 

“What made you change your mind?”

“Him. With time my dream became his. He wouldn’t have forgiven me if I was giving it all up because he was sick. He was talking about how amazing it would be if I was interviewing you. I bet he is the happiest up there.” you smiled, looking up. “One of his dreams was to meet you.”

“Maybe it is not too late?” Charles hesitantly said and you looked at him curiously. “Is he buried here?”

You nodded and he felt you stiffened.

“I've never been on his grave.” you confessed after a moment of silence. “It’s too hard and too painful to go there alone.”

“Good thing you’re not alone anymore, then.”

As you were making your way to the graveyard, Charles had to hold you closer to his chest with each step you were taking. You sobs were getting louder and your legs were shakier. It was breaking his heart, trying to see how much you were trying to keep it together.

When you finally reached the grave, at the back end of the graveyard, you fell on your knees in front of the black grave. Luc hated black. A black and white picture of him was also in the middle of the gravestone. It made you shiver. It was well kept, your parents were coming often. The lump in your throat had not gone away in the slightest, it was even bigger now, making you choke up on your own saliva. Charles wanted to hold you, wanted to get you out of here. The emotional devastation you were in was making him want to join you on the ground and cry with you. But he also knew you needed it. It was the closure you needed to move forward. He took a few steps away, giving you privacy.

“I’m so sorry, Luc. So sorry. Sorry about how I wasn’t there for you when you needed me most, sorry to have let you down, sorry to not have stepped up and measured up when I should have, sorry to not have been the sister you deserved. There is not a day that goes by when I don’t regret not being by your side. There are so many things that I should have done differently, so many things that I feel guilty about but none of them compare to how guilty I feel to not have said goodbye. I acted like a coward and I know how much you felt scared about dying. And how I promised you I would hold your hand until the end. I didn’t. I chickened out and I failed you. If I could go back in time, I would, just so I could look into your eyes one last time and hold your hand tight. I wouldn’t hesitate. I would trade anything for one last smile of yours. I hope you can forgive me, I sure can’t do that alone. But despite everything I’m happy and I’m not sure I should be. I fell in love and you would be ecstatic to know who I share my life with. He is supportive and kind and perfect for me. I wish we would have had enough time so you could have met him. But maybe after all, it’s you I should thank. Maybe it’s you who sent Charles on my way. Maybe it is your way of telling me that you are not mad at me. That you want me to be happy. If only you could give me a sign. I just want you to know that everything I do, I do it for you. Because I love you. Forever.”

You felt Charles’ arms around your shoulders as he crouched down beside you.

“Hey, Luc. I know we don’t know each other but your sister talks about you so much that I feel like I already know you. I would have loved to meet you, I know how big of a fan you are of F1. I would have loved to show you around the paddock, maybe I would have let you sit in my car. Anything to make you and your sister smile. You are brave and strong and I have nothing but pure admiration for you. I wish I could have met you. Don’t worry about your sister, I take good care of her and I don’t want to let go of her. I’m here for her for as long as she lets me but I hope it is a forever kind of thing.” he whispered as you looked at him with big and glossy eyes.

He helped you stand up, asked if you were alright and if you wanted to leave. He didn’t mind staying but he wanted to make sure you were alright, the day had been emotionally draining enough. When you nodded, he took you in his arms, engulfing you in his jacket so you weren’t cold and kissed the top of your head as you headed out.

“I’m so proud of you. So proud.” he said as you finally reached his car.

“Thank you. For being there. I don’t think I would have been able to do it alone.”

“You’re the strongest person I know. You would have done it at some point.”

“Did you mean it? What you said up there… About us being forever.” you shyly asked.

“I’m sorry it was not the best time to say it. But to answer you, I do. I’m not kidding, Y/N, I swear I can’t explain it. I don’t know how either but I just know. You’re the love of my life.”

Author's note: In laws meeting incoming... how do you think it will turn out? .

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

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#charles leclerc 16 #formula 1 #writing #fiction #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 x oc #charles leclerc fanfic #cl16 #scuderia ferrari #ferrari #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fic #f1 x reader #cl16 x reader #driver x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc

[thepringlesofblood]

little tidbits of Ragh, Porter, Jace, and Kalina lore from the past two seasons that you probably forgot about

SPOILERS for freshman & sophomore year obvs, as well as up to ep 16 of junior year [which is when I am writing this so if shit changes that's why]

Ragh got the Kalina disease from Porter

Kalina said Lydia Barkrock's name in FHSY - she says "I'm going to go kill Lydia Barkrock"

(source: 2:18:52 of ep 6 of FHSY)

What Ragh saw on prom night freshman year that made him a threat to Kalina: Jace and Arianwen talking to a third, invisible person. Then Porter steps in and does a type of barbarian healing spell that involves blood transfer, infecting Ragh. Then, as Ragh is walking home, Kalina threatens him, as he can see her now. So. BOTH JACE AND PORTER ARE AND HAVE BEEN EXTREMELY SUSPICIOUS INDIVIDUALS FROM THE START.

(source: 49:53 of ep 4 of FHSY)

We have never properly addressed the fact that Fig (and Emily Axford) did not start hating Porter completely out of nowhere. The triggering event was the Corn Cuties Incident at the very beginning of freshman year. In the immediate aftermath, after they go get Vice Principal Goldenrod (aka Kalvaxus), he orders Jace and Porter to keep watch over the crime scene. Fig rolled an insight check to see how Porter was reacting to the whole situation (Jace immediately started screaming at the sight of all the corn and blood and bodies). Brennan tells her 'Porter doesn't look all that surprised'. This is the spark of the Porter distrust.

(source: ep 3 of fantasy high, 20:49 for the insight roll, 32:30 for Jace & Porter going through the crime scene while Riz is hiding and observing)

will update with anything we learn, no guarantees on when tho

speculations meta under the cut

now i hear you screaming crying throwing up saying that Porter has actually been kind of cool lately, and I understand. personally i have not forgiven him for not signing gorgug's mcat in the first place, but i can see gorgug has, and thus many of you have. he does have some good things to say about the importance of anger and being able to channel your aggression.

however, I thought Vice Principal Goldenhoard was kind of cool before the finale of season 1, and I thought A Certain Frosting-haired Motherfucker was kind of cool before ep 9 of acoc - Brennan is excellent at making you trust people you should not be trusting. Also, although we know Porter wasn't in on the palimpsest plan [he gets sucked into one], that doesn't mean he wasn't in contact with Kalina at all.

there's one scenario I can think of in which Porter would be innocent, which I consider to be unlikely but possible.

We're post-Prompocalypse.

Jace has to be evil for this to work. imo Jace is demonstrably some level of evil (the talk w Kalina and Arianwen) but just in case you're on the fence. He also has to know that Porter is infected.

Porter is there, and does not know that he is infected.

If he hasn't been collaborating with Kalina, why would he? It's established that the Shadowcat Plague has no symptoms other than "you can see Kalina", and was spread far beyond just Fallinel.

[e.g. in fhsy, they do a livestream of Kalina, and responses are mixed between people who can see her and people who can't (1:11:38 ep 17)] so he could just have it by happenstance.

Alternately, it's possible that Jace infected Porter at some point over the course of the school year. I'm not saying they fucked (I mean they could've but I don't think that's what happened). It's established that spit can do it too - in the nightmare forest, Kalina tries to get Kristen to bite Riz to reinfect him (20:44 ep 17). Sharing a cup, a bottle, a fork, a whistle, anything your mouth goes on could've done it. Or Porter could've done the blood-sharing healing spell to Jace at some point.

Regardless, Kalina tells Jace that Ragh needs to be infected, Jace tells Porter to go heal Ragh, keeping himself uninvolved.

otherwise it is just too coincidental that Ragh is infected exactly when Kalina needs him to be. Either Porter's in on it, or was manipulated by Jace.

and then Fig's dirty 20 insight check to see that he doesn't look surprised would have to just be him going 'yeah it makes sense that arthur aguefort would do something this batshit, just another day at aguefort adventury academy'

#dimension 20 #d20 #dimension 20 spoilers #d20 spoilers #fhjy spoilers #fhjy #fhsy #fhsy spoilers #fantasy high #fantasy high spoilers #original post #look i've been on fig's side since day one #and im still on it for the most part #ref

[oblonger]

Chapter 8 of TPiaG: Body Swap AU

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@sincerely-sofie I think this is my favorite chapter I've written so far!

Twig is unconscious

Darkrai couldn't sleep.

As ironic as that sentence is, it's nonetheless true.

He'd long since gotten used to the needs that Twig's body demands for. And he would be lying if he didn't say he, to some extent, enjoyed being able to fall asleep.

But for the last week, he couldn't fall sleep for the life of him.

He tossed and turned in his bed, trying every position he could think of.

He attempted to sleep curled up, splayed out, on his belly, his side, his back. With his blanket, without his blanket (A grave mistake).

Nothing worked.

And he hated so much that he knew why.

He couldn't stop thinking of Twig.

That loathsome wretch that took his body.

He couldn't understand why he can't stop thinking of her.

He hated her.

He hated how scared and helpless he felt seeing that passage open.

He hated how he wasn't as angry as he wanted to be when she picked him up without his consent.

He can't stop thinking of how she broke the shelves in that closet to fit both of them in there, even though she could have easily just stuffed him in there alone.

He hated so much that he felt safe in there with her.

He hated the way his breath caught on itself when she pulled him closer, after hearing Grovyle step past.

He hated how he felt like he'd been torn in half when Grovyle ripped her out of there.

He hated how frozen in terror he was as he watched Grovyle beat her within an inch of her life.

He hated how he felt utterly useless, watching Celebi, Dusknoir and Kip do everything they could to keep her from dying...

...

Darkrai's eyes widened as a thought came to his mind.

She may not have been attacked if she had just left him.

She might not be unconscious in the hospital, straddling the line between life and death, if she had simply hidden herself in the shadows, and left him to confront Grovyle.

She wasn't hiding herself from Grovyle.

She was protecting him...

...

Darkrai slowly curled his fists, leaving scratch marks in the floor.

No.

That wasn't what she was doing.

She hated him as much as he hated her.

It was in her best interest to keep her own body alive.

Then why didn't she hide you in the closet alone, and try speaking with Grovyle

Because Grovyle would have attacked her regardless.

Then she would have hidden herself in the shadows and tried conversing with him.

Did you not see the murderous rampage Grovyle was on?! He wouldn't have listened to her.

What about the code word?

Darkrai's heart skipped a beat.

She would have had a chance to say it had she not tried to keep you safe.

She... She had a chance to say it during their fight. She'd forgotten she had that word in mind.

Would she have forgotten if he didn't claim that her voice was a trick? Would she have forgotten if she had a chance to talk with Grovyle? Would she have forgotten if she only dodged, and didn't try to fight back?

Grovyle wouldn't have believed her if she did say the word.

Kip didn't believe her until she said the word to him. And he had more of a reason to doubt the legitimacy.

Darkrai pressed his claws into his arms.

Stop.

If she had shown you to him, and explained what had happened, what do you think Grovyle would have done?

Darkrai winced from the pain he was inflicting on himself, attempting to hold back tears.

Stop it!

Grovyle would not have hesitated to try and kill you.

STOP!

He would blame you, as he does now, for stealing her body.

Blood was starting to pool where his claws pierced his skin.

Do you not recall her expression, when she apologized for what she said to you that morning? And the promise she made to find something for you to do during the day?

ENOUGH! I WILL NOT TOLERATE MY OWN MIND BELITTLING ME LIKE THIS!!!

She cares about you.

...

Darkrai quietly cried in his bed. Trying to remain as silent as possible so the others couldn't hear him.

Why?

...

Silence.

**********

Grovyle lay flat on his back in Kip's bed, ironically getting less sleep than he did than for the few weeks he was technically homeless. Forced to stay in that position so his ribs would heal correctly. Tears flow down his face as he thought about Twig.

The fear in her eyes, as a human, a Charmander, and in Darkrai's body haunted him.

The feeling of satisfaction he felt, watching her bleed before he knew who she was, made him consider leaving to enter Labyrinth Cave alone.

Grovyle intentionally took deep breaths. Each one sending out sharp pain from his chest.

He can never see her again. His presence would force her to relive what he'd done to her.

He tried to kill her.

He forced her through intense agony to make her suffer.

He traumatized her.

She should hate him.

She should hate him the way he hates himself, with every fiber of her being...

He hopes she does.

*********

Dusknoir couldn't take any comfort in the literature he used to. Despite Celebi's and the doctors' best efforts, the damage done to his eye is permanent. Everything looks like he'd been submerged underwater. His age already made his eyesight worse, but now he'll have to learn Braille to read again.

But he wasn't worried about that.

He was more worried about Kip.

He was of course worried about Twig. Praying at every moment that she would recover, but his fears still lay in seeing Kip neglect himself to watch Twig at all times.

The fact that the last thing he could, and probably will ever see clearly, was Kip's expression of terror, the same he'd seen several years ago, filled him with a pain that was much greater than what Kip had afflicted him with.

Dusknoir wondered if all of this would have been avoided if he was never given his undeserved mercy.

He saw the way Kip shook when he exited the passage of time.

Twig wouldn't be on the cusp of death, and Kip would be happy if he was simply never brought back.

********

Celebi couldn't understand how Darkrai isn't exhausted all the time with how he's constantly angry.

She's barely able to do anything but sit on the couch and think of just how much of a brain-dead idiot she is.

If she had just looked forward when they figured out that Kip and Twig had moved, then she could have stopped any of this from happening.

But NOOOOO!~ She just HAD to wait and see what would happen! She just HAD to be surprised by how things would turn out!

And now she hurt everyone and Twig might die.

Sure, they managed to get her to the hospital, and yeah, She's at least stable.

But what happens if her body gives out?

She dies.

And it'd be her fault if she does.

Celebi doesn't even want to think about what Kip and Grovyle would do if she passes.

She's completely trapped in a prison of her own design.

She hates that she didn't look forward then, and she hates how scared she is to look forward now.

She hates how angry she feels towards Kip for hurting Dusknoir like that. Even though she knows it was a knee-jerk reaction.

She hates how angry she is at Grovyle, for letting himself get to the point where all logic and reasoning went out the window. Even though she knows he was just tired and furious and paranoid.

But she doesn't hate how angry she is at herself.

There isn't a justification for her actions.

She is just stupid.

*********

Kip didn't care that sleeping next to her gave him nightmares. He couldn't care less that the pendant she wore with the lunar feather was lost during her fight.

The fear he feels in those nightmares pales in comparison to the fear he feels at every waking second.

Every morning he jolts awake, covered in cold sweat from the nightmare he had, and stares at Twig. Watching her to make sure she's still breathing.

He hasn't left the room since he was allowed in after the emergency surgery the Doctors had to preform on her.

He watches the doctors replace the medicine and bandages daily. Staring at her wounds to make sure they haven't gotten infected. Even if that's not his job.

Kip just-

He was so mad at himself.

He wanted to make up for abandoning Twig when she needed him most. But he can't.

And he might not ever be able to.

What a moron he is. He can't figure out why he started running in the first place.

They were his friends. They wouldn't hurt him or Twig.

But Grovyle ended up nearly killing her anyway. All because he wasn't there to defend her. To explain what had happened.

Kip stared at Twig.

First time she's slept since switching bodies, and it was because of him.

Kip stood up and heavily, slowly walked towards the door.

He turned his head to look back at her. Hoping she'd woken up.

She didn't. She lay in the same position. Her breathing, weak and short.

...

Team Skull was right about him

They were more right than Twig ever was.

All he ever did was weigh her down. He was a burden that he forced her to carry.

She had lied to him. He wasn't her friend. Friends don't abandon each other when they need them most.

Friends don't suddenly change their minds and try to go back for them for no reason.

Friends don't break down crying, unable to do anything while trying to put medicine on their wounds.

Friends don't act like him.

Kip left the room and slowly walked out of the hospital towards the travel agency. His head hung low.

He could feel the atmosphere get less heavy with each step, but he himself still felt heavy.

He's going... Somewhere. He doesn't know where. Just, any other town.

She doesn't deserve a scumbag 'friend' like him.

It's better this way...

*******

Celebi had told her everything.

She couldn't help but notice the underlying anger in her words. Everything recounted to her with an uncharacteristic flatness. Simply laying out the facts and nothing more.

She took a slight amusement as she thought about how Twig must have looked at Grovyle, when he saw her clutching that monster like some scared child holding a stuffed toy.

It was exactly what she deserved to have happen after she gave pity to that wretched, selfish thing.

At least justice was finally served.

Maybe now she'll take a step back and realize her actions and words were in no way justified.

Maybe she'll finally see just how awful he acted. And finally take the steps to right what's wrong.

Cresselia stopped her midnight flight when she suddenly realized that someone experiencing great physical and emotional pain. Barely detectable, as it was far away. All the way over on the Fire continent.

Cresselia decided to shelve the thoughts as she began making her way over to where the pain was originating.

She thinks it may be coming from a Snivy but she isn't quite sure yet.

Cresselia enjoyed the feeling of the crisp, early spring night breeze against her feathers.

Perhaps her and Kip will finally see eye-to-eye when she returns.

#Boy. I wonder if that Snivy will have any significant impact on Cresselia's mindset and behavior. #Man trying to get Cresselia to act like a chunk of hairy dust filled play-dough without crossing over into cartoonish evil is hard #I can't say her portion is my favorite part #But i love the rest of it #I didn't want to say it in each portion because i would have just been repeating myself #but i wanted to emphasize how everyone feels like it's their fault; and their fault /alone/ that what happened; happened. #even though it was such a complex thing with so much trauma and paranoia involved on every side #that picking someone to solely blame would be pointless #the closest i could get to is Grovyle #but even then #dude thought that the only family he had for years had been getting tortured by a legend for almost a full year #couple that with what little sleep he got leading up to the incident #and the growing paranoia and anger each time they went to a house and couldn't find her #i can't really say i can blame him #I would act irrationally angry and paranoid too if i was in a similar situation. #granted; It is an explanation. Not an excuse #Can't wait to explore the implications of that! #Bullying the grass boy #text post #pmd eos #fanfic of a fanfic #the present is a gift au #pmd #writing #fanfic #body swap au #pmd2 #cw blood #tw blood #Dusknoir and Grovyle's sections are shorter than i'd like but their thoughts are the most straightforward so oh well.

[licorice-lips]

Hi, everyone! So, I know there's a lot of controversy about Rhys's behavior Under the Mountain (at least in Brazil fandom it's a hot topic), a discussion that is valid and definitely needs to be had, so I did a lot of research on the subject and compiled the three texts that influenced me the most into a compilation that I'll share here — along with my thoughts and additions.

These texts that serve as my supports were made here on Tumblr and can be found under the following titles, although the third one is the most comprehensive of them all:

*Rhysand's Defense Post (The author had only read A Court of Thorns and Roses when she wrote this).

*The Difference Between Tamlin and Rhysand: The Man on the Throne and the Man in the Arena — Acotar and Acomaf's Excerpt Analysis (The author was following the small teaser quotes for A Court of Mist and Fury and analyzed them).

*Understanding Tamlin and Rhysand — A Post-Acomaf Reconciliation of Rhys's Actions Under The Mountain in a Culture of Defeat.

In addition to discussing Rhys's behavior, however, I'm also going to discuss Tamlin's behavior and compare the two. It's going to be quite fun… Just a heads up that I don't want any hate messages. Do you want to share your thoughts agreeing or disagreeing? That's fine, but with respect. Any offensive comments will be deleted.

Now here's my defense post for Rhys:

Leadership is a heavy burden. When you're a leader, especially when it's not your choice but comes to you because of the family you were born into, for example, responsibility can be a burden. But when you're a leader, there's something very important to consider when making a decision: those who follow you.

All of Rhys's actions as High Lord of the Night Court must be thought of to put the well-being of those he is responsible for first. And when he, Tamlin, and the other High Lords are Under the Mountain, he decides that he will be Amarantha's whore to ensure that his Court is in the best possible condition within the situation — he lets himself be raped to ensure that his people and his family remain safe when he could have done nothing.

But from the moment Feyre strikes the deal with Amarantha, he is the only one who is truly in a position to make a difference: the other High Lords do not have enough of Amarantha's trust for her not to suspect anything if one of them tried to bargain with Feyre as Rhys did, for example. If any other High Lord — Kallias, Thesan, Helion, etc. — tried the same thing as Rhys, Amarantha would have been suspicious.

So in this case, he is the only one who can truly act.

But he doesn't have to. The point is that his Court is reasonably safe because of his role in the court Amarantha built, so Rhys doesn't really need to help Feyre win. But he does it, not because he wants his power back, but because he's the kind of leader who will do everything achievable to change — for what he believes is the best — the lives of his people.

And I'll talk about how admirable that is later on when we're talking about the culture of war and defeat, and about Tamlin's behavior. So, he decides to act, and he tells Feyre in A Court of Mist and Fury:

"I decided at that moment that I would fight. And fight dirty, and kill and torture and manipulate, but fight. If there was any chance of freeing us from Amarantha, it was you." (A Court of Mist and Fury, page 550, Brazilian edition)

He knows, then, that the fight he would have to wage was not the beautiful, heroic, noble thing we're so used to seeing: Rhys knew that his actions to ensure victory — for Feyre and Prythian as a whole — would be horrible and would probably haunt him for the rest of his life. He knows that. And he doesn't excuse himself for a moment. He doesn't invent, he doesn't embellish, he doesn't paint himself as a hero. He knows he's not and he really isn't a hero.

A hero is someone who sacrifices themselves in a grand gesture to save the entire population, a true hero doesn't really sacrifice one person to save others. And while Rhys does have his own share of sacrifices, that doesn't excuse him from the horrible actions he took Under the Mountain:

So, the first part of his questionable behavior in Under the Mountain comes to light: the moment he twists Feyre's injured arm to convince her, to scare her enough to accept his bargain. This is a minor moment and my description alone makes it understandable: he does what he does to keep her alive and charges an insignificant price (which he planned to release her from later, as he himself says) to keep up appearances.

And Rhys needs to keep up appearances because his whole game to defeat Amarantha depends on how he appears to her and to other people: no one can notice while he moves the pieces on the board to bring the advantage to them. No one, not even Feyre, who is the "lamb to the slaughter," so to speak. And she can't know for several reasons:

Feyre is not in a mental condition to act and pretend to hate him as much as he needs her to pretend. So if she knew what he was doing, she would probably let something slip, or wouldn't be convincing enough, because honestly? Who could?

Rhys spent the last 50 years fighting alone and being surrounded by people who constantly despised him for being Amarantha's whore or for those who tried to ingratiate themselves with her through him, so he doesn't trust others easily, even though he was falling in love with Feyre, as he says in ACOMAF.

He couldn't trust that Feyre wouldn't trust others — Lucien and, therefore, Tamlin — with this knowledge. With their mutual hatred, they would surely end up messing things up.

Feyre was there to protect the High Lord who killed his mother and sister — and Rhys didn't know that Feyre didn't know the history behind his and Tamlin's relationship — so, in theory, it made sense that he wouldn't want to show his "true face" to her.

That's exactly what the book is about: like a retelling of Beauty and the Beast, the book is about how appearances deceive. If Feyre found out that Rhys is a decent person right away, it would be the same as throwing the whole intention of the story out the window.

So we have the second — and most controversial of all — point: the dance and the wine. I'm not going to mince words about this: It was sexual harassment. Period. But with this, Rhys manages to:

Get Feyre out of her cell, which is driving her crazy, as she says in this part: "I was alone, locked in silence — although the screams in the dungeon continued day and night. When they became unbearable and I couldn't ignore them, I looked at the eye in my palm." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 356, Brazilian Edition). And let's face it, anyone would go crazy in an environment like that.

Keep an eye on Feyre so that no one else could harm her — something he disguises with a comment about not liking others to touch what's his — and that's a curious thing because Feyre never expresses concerns about being abused by others after Rhys starts taking her to these parties (it's also interesting to note that despite the various traumas of what happened Under the Mountain, Feyre never showed any signs of trauma from sexual abuse, as far as I know — and again, not that this excuses Rhys, it's just a factor to point out that maybe she understood his game better than we did).

To leave Tamlin full of anger — which he claims is the main reason for all that theater during A Court of Thorns and Roses — so that he wouldn't hesitate if he had the slightest chance to kill Amarantha in the end or between challenges, no matter as long as he didn't hesitate. Because from Rhys's perspective, Tamlin is the noble golden prince who might spare Amarantha's life to demand some kind of trial or something. Which I consider he might have been dumb enough to do too.

Divert Amarantha's attention, as, thinking that Feyre was already humiliated and abused enough during those nights, she wouldn't give Feyre those ridiculous tasks anymore (like cleaning that filthy hall or collecting lentils from Rhys's fireplace). And if you reread ACOTAR, she really never gives those small tasks to Feyre again after that.

Send a message to those who could read, as Rhys himself says: he crowns Feyre every night, and for the cruel ones, this would be a subtle kind of mockery, but for those who could see beyond the evil, Rhys was declaring Feyre the champion of them all. He declared that he believed in her and in her potential to free them all.

Convince Amarantha that he's still playing on her side — a belief that was shaken by Rhys betting on Feyre in the first task and closing that bargain to heal her arm. This might be the most fundamental of all points: the one that allows the game to continue toward victory. He needs to prove to Amarantha that he's doing it for fun, out of cruelty, considering Feyre as the whore of the whore, someone lower than the lowest of courtesans. Thus, Rhys clears the way to act when the time is right.

By taking Feyre with him to those parties, he moved not one, but six pieces of the game to be in his favor. He killed six birds with one stone. Strategically, it's an incredible tactic, by the way. But morally, this act leaves something to be desired.

So why the wine and the dance? Because Rhysand plays with appearances. Everything in his game depends on it.

Feyre wouldn't play the whore of the whore while conscious, no one with a shred of self-respect would accept that without knowing the reason behind it, and Rhysand, for the reasons I mentioned, wouldn't tell her anything. So he makes her drink the wine to keep the whole purpose of that show and keeps her close to prevent her from being touched by anyone other than him.

But besides that, the wine is a form of escape, a way to forget about the horrors, as Feyre herself says at the end of the chapter where all this happens:

"[…] and I began to long for the moment when Rhysand would hand me the goblet of faerie wine and I could let loose for a few hours." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 381).

In fact, Rhys sees it this way: when he is forced to kill the High Lord of the Summer Court (not Tarquin, but his cousin from whom he "inherited" the title, Nostrus), he himself drinks the wine with Feyre — it's an escape from the character he so carefully plays because not even Rhys can bear everything without letting the facade fall, even if only a little.

Note: not that I'm saying this would be a healthy way to deal with all that trauma and accumulated stress, but considering the place they were in and the situation, perhaps it was the most… effective way.

I have to say, however, that all of this doesn't justify what he did: it was still sexual abuse and it's still very bad and very serious. However, I need to point out to you: what we do to survive often does not reflect what we would be in a normal situation (normal being their everyday life without Amarantha, in this case).

When we are confronted with a situation like this, where to survive we end up needing to do something horrible, many say they would never do and would take the noble path of dying before giving up their values and principles, which is great, it proves that you have a very good character. The problem is that Rhys doesn't have the choice to think only of himself and how much this abuse will cost his dignity and principles because every decision he makes affects his people.

So here's my question for you: could you love someone who chose to preserve you instead of saving thousands of innocent — children, women, and men — who are under their responsibility?

Because I couldn't love someone who did that. And that's how I make peace with what Rhys did to Feyre Under the Mountain: I couldn't love someone who condemned the world to save me from abuse that I know I can endure — even if it causes me terrible harm.

Of course, it's entirely valid if you decide not to forgive him for what he did, because, after all, it's a morally gray action when you consider the whole situation they were in and what Rhys did. So, no one is really wrong for not forgiving Rhys for what he did, but those who forgive him aren't wrong either. It's very important that we understand that.

Now, an argument that is often used and that annoys me every time I hear it is that Sarah "changed Rhys and Tamlin's personalities because of shipping", so she ignored everything Rhys did Under the Mountain to make him the hero just because fans liked him. There are so many things wrong with that that I don't even know where to begin, but let's analyze all of Tamlin's, Feyre's, and Rhys's behavior throughout the ACOTAR and ACOMAF stories and show why I know Sarah did absolutely everything with careful consideration:

There is a trait that is very striking in Tamlin from the beginning of the ACOMAF story and is especially explicit when Alis tells the whole story about Amarantha, Tamlin, and the curse, which is the fact that Tamlin can't deal with the consequences of his actions:

The first time he does this is at the beginning of the curse when he gives up sending his soldiers to die for him, thus Tamlin simply gives up not only freeing himself but all of Prythian, all the people who live there, and still condemns the human lands in the process. He only started sending the soldiers out of desperation after 46 years, look at Alis's speech:

"For two years, he sent them, day after day, needing to choose who crossed the wall. When there were only a dozen left, Tamlin was so devastated that he stopped. He canceled everything." (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 294, Brazilian Edition).

The second time I can point out is Feyre herself (this because I'm ignoring the events during her stay in the Spring Court, as I don't remember what happened): he takes Feyre to Prythian with the intention of making her fall in love with him, but at the first glimpse of direct danger from Amarantha — in this case, the scene where Rhys makes him kneel — he sends her away.

He gives up saving Prythian because he can't stick to the decision to put Feyre in danger so that she could break the curse, so much so that he condemns himself for it, because Feyre only doesn't say that she loves him — and breaks the curse — precisely because she's leaving:

"— I love you. — He said, and stepped back. I should say — should say those words, but they got stuck in my throat because… Because of what he needed to face, because maybe he wouldn't find me again, despite the promise…" (A Court of Thorns and Roses, page 261, Brazilian Edition)

These are the main events, and perhaps I could list more for you if I reread A Court of Thorns and Roses. But what does this show us? That every time Tamlin makes a decision, he freezes and backs down at the first sign of an obstacle. He retreats and avoids anything that shakes him.

So it makes sense that Tamlin's reaction Under the Mountain is paralysis — a common behavior among leaders in times of war and defeat, by the way, which aligns not only with Tamlin's personality but also with the reaction of a true leader in such a situation.

Alright, let's stop there and go back in time to analyze Feyre's behavior:

Right from the start, we learn that, even being the youngest of three sisters, Feyre was the one who, when they were starving, took action and sought a solution, which shows us right away the kind of person Feyre is: she's the kind of person who acts when forced to face danger, whether it's something intangible, like death by starvation, or tangible, like Amarantha.

This is proven repeatedly throughout the books: when she seeks answers with the Suriel, when she tries to fight off the bastards who tried to rape her at Calanmai (because paralysis can also be a reaction to abuse of that kind), when she goes to Under the Mountain to fight for Tamlin without even hesitating, when she heals from the traumas of Under the Mountain as soon as she has something to focus on, something to dedicate herself to.

And this is one of the fundamental differences between Tamlin and Feyre: while he paralyzes, she acts, and whether we like it or not, differences create friction. Especially with what happened Under the Mountain because she and Tamlin were separated, and neither of them experienced trauma together. Paralysis generates a different trauma from the trauma of someone who is acting, so the end of their relationship begins when she goes to save him Under the Mountain — and Tamlin freezes.

Then we have Rhysand, who is exactly like Feyre: he acts when confronted with danger or defeat and has thousands of actions of his that exemplify this:

As soon as he becomes High Lord, he bans the wing clipping of Illyrian females regardless of the reaction of the Illyrian lords or what they thought about it. It's not that he doesn't care: Rhys, unlike Tamlin, is willing to pay the price that comes when a decision is made.

He becomes Amarantha's whore to protect his people from her getting too close to them. He doesn't care about the cost to himself simply because Rhys knows he's doing some good for his own people by letting himself be raped.

When he sees in Feyre the chance to do something to free all of Prythian, he goes all in knowing that that game would be total defeat or victory. He acts.

When Hybern starts threatening Prythian, he is willing to do whatever it takes — lose a potential friend, hand over the city he loved with all his heart to horrible women, give up his own life — so that they wouldn't fall into slavery again.

When the war comes anyway, he faces it head-on and uses every card he has to stop the King of Hybern: monsters of all kinds, all his power, his own life, and the truth about himself, about who he is.

And these are just a few examples. The fundamental difference between Tamlin and Rhys, just like between Tamlin and Feyre, is how they respond to situations and traumas.

Quoting Teddy Roosevelt (btw, this is a direct translation of the Portuguese version of the quote, so it can be different from the original):

"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."

Feyre and Rhysand are the ones in the arena, they are the ones who fight to be able to act in the face of evil — Amarantha. And it's interesting to note that those who condemn Rhys for the dubious actions he took Under the Mountain never say anything about Feyre committing murder there as well, which is a crime as heinous (or at least should be when it comes to innocent people) as Rhys's.

I'll tell you why: when we're faced with a gray and complex character like Rhys — and we don't know his heart, instead we're "infected" with the main character's partial view — we tend to connect him directly with evil, instead of understanding that this character is neither wholly good nor bad. We forgive soldiers for killing people in a war — that's also a combat in Under the Mountain, so why can't we forgive both Rhys and Feyre?

We forgive Feyre because we know how sorry she is, we know her heart, and we love her. But Rhys? He's the High Lord of the Night Court — which alone triggers some unconscious alerts within us — and he's playing dirty, hiding, and being a horrible person, so why should he be forgiven?

That's what our brain unconsciously thinks sometimes, and it makes us judge some characters more severely. Understanding the duality and complexity of a character is not an easy task; it requires a lot of empathy and an open mind.

But why am I saying this? Because it's important to understand: Rhys and Feyre are extremely similar, and they understand each other at a fundamental level because of that. Tamlin, on the other hand, has a completely different personality. He's the one who freezes, who paralyzes.

Rhys and Feyre experience the trauma Under the Mountain together, so Feyre and Tamlin are separated, which, combined with the glaring difference between the two, makes it difficult — perhaps impossible — for them to heal together because, out of loyalty to the character's nature, Sarah can't make Tamlin talk about what's happening like Feyre needs.

Even after Under the Mountain, Tamlin's instinctive action is to freeze. So he doesn't talk about Feyre's nightmares, he pretends not to see her despair, he turns away from her need to talk about the subject — because looking at her trauma would be the same as acknowledging his own.

And he can't do that because it's part of his nature to freeze. But this isn't healthy, hence the explosions of anger, and hence he locks Feyre up the moment she tries to assert herself: these are the consequences of forcing someone who deals with PTSD by freezing to actually deal with their traumas (that and the fact that he's horrible).

I can understand that (not in his relationship with Feyre, I'm talking more generally here, about him as High Lord, he can rot otherwise) but I can't forgive it like I did with Rhys because, unlike the actions Rhys took, paralysis only allows evil to continue to grow and end up imprisoning us (this is, in fact, one of the reasons why Tamlin didn't try to fight like Rhys while Amarantha was killing Feyre: his lack of previous action left him unable to take action when it was time to "put up or shut up").

While Tamlin's paralysis pushes us down while doing us harm, Rhys's actions, as horrible as they may be, are done in the hope of something good, they're done to move us forward. I can forgive him because I'd rather be someone who does horrible things in the hope of creating something better than be someone who allows evil to continue to grow until it imprisons me.

It's that simple.

And Feyre is exactly that kind of person. She needs to act, she needs to talk about it to heal. She needs to have a purpose, not be coddled like Tamlin — and his trauma — wants her to be.

The relationship between her and Tamlin becomes abusive the moment he tries to stifle her feelings to maintain a state of paralysis. And that's something you'd expect from a character like Tamlin, that's how he was built. But this happens long before Under the Mountain: I remember that on the first day Feyre yields to the dresses Tamlin gave her in ACOTAR, I think it was the morning after Calanmai, she warns herself to be gentle, to be kind, when dealing with Tamlin and Lucien.

But after Under the Mountain, Feyre can no longer accept that her feelings be stifled simply because her traumas are consuming her from the inside out. So she fights back. And that's what completely ends their relationship.

But the point is: both Tamlin, Feyre, and Rhysand follow exactly the line of their personalities throughout the story. They are those kinds of people from start to finish. There's an evolution, of course, but it's an evolution of beliefs, opinions, and perceptions — their essences remain the same.

That's why Sarah is brilliant in these books: by being completely faithful to her characters' personalities, she created a story that discusses abusive relationships, the varied responses of certain types of people to trauma, and the various reactions of leaders in times of war and defeat.

But the point is: none of them were changed to fit a ship, simply because they weren't changed. All three of these characters act exactly the way they should within the limits of their own personalities.

Rhys is the High Lord who plays dirty to create a better world, and Tamlin is a leader who can't make a tough decision. And there's another fundamental difference between them:

While Rhys knows that, from time to time, he'll be forced to make decisions that will end up harming part of his people (and will choose the lesser of two evils), Tamlin still struggles with the enchanted vision of a superhero who saves everyone without exception. And when that doesn't happen — because it's never possible to save everyone no matter what you do — he prefers not to act.

I think the two things that illustrate very well the kind of person Rhys and Tamlin are is the Illyrian tradition of cutting the wings of their females and the Tribute:

Rhys risks a revolt to improve the lives of his people and sticks to that decision, willing to pay the price for it if the result is a better life for the Illyrian females, while Tamlin fails to abolish an extremely unnecessary tax because his inability to act makes him cling to archaic traditions like the Tribute.

So, yes, I forgive Rhys for what he did Under the Mountain, because I couldn't love someone who freezes and leaves me to die. I prefer to love someone who cares so deeply about something — a dream — that they're willing to fight and play dirty for it. And then go to battle to defend it.

Hope you enjoyed it! Feel free to point out points that I didn't comment on; I'll try to respond to everyone's comments!"

#acotar #rhysand #feyre archeron #feysand #rhys acotar #books #fantasy books #sjm #sarah j. maas #sarah j maas #cassian acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acomaf #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #tamlin #tamlin acotar #morrigan

[atlasshrugd]

suzanne collins making it so peeta gets hijacked by the capitol to be used against katniss is the second cruelest thing she’s ever done. the first being killing off finnick in such a cruel and useless manner

#yes I am rewatching the hunger games after seeing abosas aren’t we all??? #i am so invested in katniss and peeta my god just let these kids have peace #so so so fucking cruel that they took away the one thing that was always a sure ray of hope and stability for katniss #peeta being her rock and her sunshine #and how they made it so he hated her and tries to kill her #fucking with his memories forever #i hate it I hate it I hate it #I need 10000000 recovery fics of them #AND DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED ON FINNICK #the hunger games #katniss and peeta #thg #everlark #finnick odair #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark #mine

[moeblob]

Deacon loves two things: Ymber and digging himself a grave.

Fulj hates one thing: Deacon.

#my characters #waiting on some info on the next commission so i indulged in ocs today bc i doubt i will have as much time for lil comics for a bit #deacon is so devoted hes like yeah i would kill for a deity that could easily kill anything himself but yknow teehee #and fulj just did you tell him you needed therapy also does he even know youd murder in his name #deacon caught red handed haha no of course i havent told him it should be obvious enough haha.... and its in his defense not his name :c #man really does have some issues but i love him so much and hes so devoted but like. unhealthily after a while #he does in fact need a chill pill and therapy but to be fair #ymber has needed therapy for centuries and yet he just bottles it all up and suffers so #its pretty unhealthy until they yell at each other one (1) time bc they are so insecure about things and get mad over very valid reasons #but then theyre like you know what that was necessary and i still want to stay by your side if you let me #and then fulj is like dude hey sorry you seem really happy did you fu- and ymber is like no please stop there we have not #fulj just squinting cause have not is very different than will not but whatever she doesnt wanna think about that with deacon involved ew #and eventually fulj is like hey ymber im sorry to say but i really do hate deacon and i dont even know why but he makes me uncomfortable #while deacon is just. in the room. hearing this and thinking how he knows she thinks hes weird but wow that wording hurts #and ymber doesnt wanna fill in memories better forgotten by fulj which she had forcefully removed #so he just says oh well his hair and clothing are black and you had someone in the past that you might see in him and its not a pleasant en #so you know maybe its that idk #and fulj is then WHATST i was rude to him for someone i cant even remember? lame im gonna try SO HARD to be nice to him now #and deacon just still sitting there with some food like this is v awkward and i wish i could not be here for it #and later he asks ymber about who he resembled and as ymber is descibing her it clicks in deacons head and he gets really sad #that he might somehow remind fulj of the woman she loved before she was punished for loving a mortal #and he feels kinda bad pestering her so much with his curiosities about deities and he kinda gets it #the fact hes close to ymber might remind her at the core that she was once that close with a mortal if not closer #anyway story time in the tags again #im so obsessed with these peeps and i have made them suffer so much but they do all end on a happy note #its still funny and nice to me that while fulj is creeped out by deacon and doesnt like talking to him #he still expresses the most emotions to her - he tries hard to remain serious around ymber and collected and obedient at all times #and when out and about with ymber he has to be intimidating and refuses smiling but fulj?? all sunshine and smiles and emotions easy to rea #and she is just that is so weird go away i hate you

[listles-s]

just realized when kay/o joins the protocol all the agents probably had to learn how to rez him (since everyone can). so i made a helpful chart

#TO EXPLAIN SOME OF MY PLACES. #neon didn't mean to but girl is literally made of electricity #phoenix decided to do the superheat approach. it did not in fact rez him faster #jett was doing fine but then she tried to rez as FAST as humanly possible. did not work and somehow she got a knife stuck in there #i don't think i have to explain reyna #LMFAO #omen and skye were the hardest to place but i think on a scale of 'is normal about it' and 'actively hates it' they were in the dead center #i think omen would learn how to rez but he doesn't feel very comfortable about it bc kingdom tech and experiments #skye is a Nature Girl who probably doesn't dabble in a ton of tech so i think she'd actually be between where i put her and nearly kills him #also sova was originally gonna go in the second tier but i remembered his eye and drone and trigonometry so #cut content. me putting another kay/o in the bottom row #oh god do i have to tag everyone #nah ill just tag the relevant ones #kay/o #valorant kay/o #kay/o valorant #valorant #valorant protocol #this took me 9 years

[pandoratheprocrasticreator]

saw some art of hunter making a grimwalker of belos to cope and man am i glad the owl crew made belos into a writhing pile of goo so he doesn’t have any more bones to make grimwalkers with. like i can imagine hunter’s mental state getting bad enough somehow that he’d think to do something like that, to raise belos so he’d turn out good. and that’s the same pitfall phillip fell into when creating grimwalkers of caleb.

and damn what a cruel thing to do to a kid. to the grimwalker, hunter-his creator and probably father figure-would have created him to prove a point to himself. that someone evil in his past could have grown up to be good. that hunter could shape the grimwalker into what hunter wanted him to be. and everything the grimwalker does, he would have to wonder if phillip did the same in life, and if hunter would approve.

its the exact kind of existential crisis hunter is having in the show from being the clone of caleb. except the theoretical belos grimwalker would have to live with the fact that his ortet almost committed genocide on his entire civilization. im sure hunter would avoid being an abusive parent the way belos was. he might even be a good dad. but the act of making the grimwalker means hunter is giving the kid the same kind of trauma he struggled through. belos couldn’t accept that caleb left him, so he tried to reshape innocent kids into filling that void. if hunter creates a grimwalker, he would be doing the same with belos. he would have turned into his uncle, which to me is a very depressing way to end his story arc.

#toh #the owl house #shut up pandora #i do like the au where belos made another grimwalker after hollow mind and hunter finds it #in that case hunter doesnt cross an ethical line bc he didnt make the grimwalker #but ye in here i can see hunter having a really bad episode and making a belos grimwalker bc he wants to prove his uncle can be good #but that kid is going to HATE him when hes old enough to understand the implications of that #like if the point of the au is that hunter crossed an ethical boundary and has to grapple with the repercussions of ruining his sons life #sure even if its a little too depressing for me #the specific au i saw though seems to be mainly fluff and how HUNTER is sad about it? #which no it should focus on how the people around him ESPECIALLY the grimwalker is sad about it #also the au was so mean to willow like #apparently she didnt want a kid in the first place and then her husband brings home a clone of the guy who tried to kill her multiple times #and she ends up graciously accepting a kid she never wanted and immediately forgiving her husband for ruining her new sons life #and its supposed to be romantic? #i wont say the specific person who came up with the au bc ive been dunking on them #i am just grumping #im sure they have a lot of ideas about their au but i personally think it looks iffy from a first glance

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt the spiraling upwards clan founders, especially the birchclan founders. Silly lil kitties who's pasts are drenched in blood with the primary regret of not drawing it sooner

#rat rambles #oc posting #warriors posting #spiraling upwards #long story short they had a shitty awful terrible leader who sucked absolutely ass and they tore him to shreds #I mean that literally they pinned him onto the mountain side and slashed and mauled the shit out of him so hard that his lives evaporated #and several of the cats involved in that scene are sill alive and major parts of the story and I love them #oh also the cat that pinned him through a stab through the throat was his own daughter btw everyone hated his ass so much #and for good reason get his ass #alas in the main story I dont rly get to go too deep into how he harmed everyone involved mostly just three main ones #aka bristlestar because shes murtlepaw's ghost mom dawncrackle because hes also haunting murtle and gullspot because shes bristle's kit #so basically all the flashbacks we get involve those three in some form or another #honeystar was also there and involved but Im not currently planning on having her rly talk abt that #most of her more modern angst is the fact that she was forced into leadership against her will #and shes been alive long enough that shes been leading birchclan far longer than she ever lived in her old clan #but she did go through a lot of shit before birchclan was founded and it definitely shaped her a lot #she used to be a very determined and high spirited lil kitty cat who tried to be optimistic #but her family began to slowly be picked off one by one by both the old leader and the one whod later get evicerated #some of the older cats around her hoped it make her back down from her revelutionary ideas but she noticed that and it backfired on them #instead of being worn down to submission she became absolutely Furious and began to lash out more and become more demanding #it got to the point that she really only had two friends in the entire clan and one of them was her aunt whod later also die after coming #out abt having witnessed the leader killing his own kits #that was the final fucking straw for her and she was fully on board when bristle and dawn started looking for cats to join their rebellion #she did get rly frustrated with them as they waited patiently for the right moment but her remaining bestie kept her from going apeshit #so once the big fight finally broke out she was more than eager to join the hoard of cats chasing the bastard upwards #now unlike some of the other cats involved this legitimately actually made her feel a lot better for a while #for the first time in ages she finally felt like she could be optimistic abt smth again and was excited abt the idea of leaving this place #she had lost so much in this damn place since she was an apprentice and just wanted to finally be able to rest easy #but once they got to their new territory and set up camp things went south real fast as a flood fucked everything up #and after losing the only cat she had left in her life and losing her tail and being made deputy on top of that she deteriorated quickly