#reality gets saved? Maybe! 👀

[r0semultiverse]

WHAT HAPPENED TO THE ORIGINAL MARCELINE OF THE WINTER KING'S UNIVERSE!? 😨

Is the implication that Ice King took her out with all of the other oozers or did the oozers end up killing her?? Either way, it seems that this Simon was not coping well with any of what was going on in his life. Living a life of hypocrisy & ruling a false kingdom.

#is the implication that Ice King took her out with all of the other mutated people? #or did the mutated people end up taking her out? #right as he was talking about making an ice Betty as being 'unethical;' but he had ice Marceline hidden away in his castle #there was nothing ethical about the Winter King's methods; though I'm curious about how he learned to cast a spell to project the madness #of the crown specifically onto this universe's PB?? I wanna know more about that & I wonder if a similar method will be how Fionna & Cake's #reality gets saved? Maybe! 👀 #mine #op #marceline abadeer #winter king #marceline the vampire queen #adventure time fionna & cake #adventure time #adventure time fionna and cake #adventure time spoilers #atimers #ice king #ice simon #simon petrikov #fionna and cake

[callsign-rogueone]

what was I made for? - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader (continuation of keep her safe) The aftermath of War Games has you questioning your purpose, and what your signet truly is. wc: 4.4k 🏷: FOURTH WING AND IRON FLAME SPOILERS (I have 50 pages left, but I just can’t do it. send help.) canon-level violence, injury, canon character death, self doubt, anxiety. oops, I made Dain tolerable again. angst, then happy, then more angst. I also skipped over a smut scene / just made a reference to it happening, so if anyone wants that as a separate post, lmk and I can make it happen 👀 thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on part 1! it means a lot to me 🫶

Riorson House is more your home than Basgiath ever has been, but it’s become foreign to you in the three years you’d spent at the college. It feels like you’re hallucinating as you wander the halls.

Maybe everything that’s happened in the last few days has been a hallucination -- it wouldn't be the first time Varrish or Carr had pushed you to delirium with the amount of pain you’d taken for others.

Maybe it’s a dream. That’s it. A really bad dream. Any moment now, you’re going to wake up in Garrick’s bed and get ready for morning formation, and you’ll forget the sight of Liam dying by breakfast, when you’re sitting across from him at the table like you always do. Violet’s screams of pain will stop playing in your ears, replaced by her laughter at one of Ridoc’s jokes.

But no matter how much you pinch at your skin, you aren’t waking up. This is reality.

“I hear you’re a mender, too,” someone says in a gentle voice, bringing you out of your daze. Violet’s brother, Brennan.

“Does it ever get easier?” You ask quietly. “Does it always hurt this much?”

“Mending becomes easier. Seeing that kind of stuff every day doesn’t,” he replies, and the exhausted look on his face tells you he’s being honest. “But it shouldn’t hurt. Tell me more about that.”

“The second person I mended was a scribe who’d fallen from a ladder in the library and broken her leg. I did everything right, the bone set properly, but my leg hurt for a week, right where she’d broken hers.”

Brennan is silent, letting you continue.

“They broke Garrick’s arm in RSC. I was able to fix it for him, and I took the pain, but they broke it again two hours later. I mended him and Xaden over and over until I collapsed. I didn’t wake for two days. They both still think it was just exhausting for me. They don’t know about the pain.”

The tears are coming openly now, dripping down your cheeks, and you bring a hand up to wipe them away with the sleeve of your flight jacket. “But it isn’t all bad. I couldn’t save Liam, but I was able to make him more comfortable in the end. I took his pain away, and let him go in peace.”

You don’t tell him what death feels like. No description you could give could adequately prepare anyone for the cold sensation that still lingers in your chest. It will likely remain there for the next few days.

“Hey,” he says softly, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. For now, just try to get some rest.” 

You nod quietly, looking back up at him. “Can someone please tell Garrick that I’m okay?” You ask in a small voice, folding your hands in your lap. You’d been heartbroken to realize that the rest of the squad had left for Basgiath before you woke, leaving you here alone.

You didn’t get to say goodbye to any of them, and you don’t know when you’ll see them again. Or if you’ll see them, you think, but you push the thought away quickly. They’ll survive. They have to.

Brennan cracks a smile - everyone in the rebel cause is aware of how deeply Garrick loves you. “Of course.”

———————————————————————

“Cadet Mairi died alongside his dragon, who was attacked by a drift of Gryphon riders. Cadet Avan attempted to mend them, and died trying,” Xaden says levelly, staring down the group of professors on the dais. “They both died honorable, but preventable deaths.”

Garrick knows Xaden is lying, knows you aren’t dead — or you hadn’t been when they left for Basgiath, at least, but his friend’s words have him on edge. Have you woken up yet? 

Chradh speaks into his mind, sending a wave of hot rage through him. “Relax.”

“Relax?” He echoes, irate. “You’re telling me to relax right now, when-”

Chradh doesn’t bother to argue with him. “She is safe under the care of the silver one’s brother, where she will remain until the moment is right. It is better this way. She won’t be in pain anymore.”

Chradh doesn’t elaborate further. Fucking dragons and their constant need to speak in riddles.

The rest of the quadrant spends the night drinking and congratulating themselves on surviving, but Garrick doesn’t touch a drop of alcohol. The three of you were supposed to do this together. It wouldn’t be right to celebrate without you.

———————————————————————

“We’re gonna start from square one, with something that can’t hurt you,” Brennan says, placing two halves of a cracked plate on the table in front of you.

It’s simple enough to make the pieces rise into the air, using the same magic required to make a pen write for you. You concentrate, willing the halves to fuse together. They touch, and you think you’ve done it, your heart leaping, only to fall as they crash back down to the table again, splitting into even more pieces.

Brennan touches one of the shards, and they glue themselves back together perfectly; no cracks, no trace of the plate ever having been broken. “That’s what I thought.”

“Let me keep trying,” you begin, heart pounding. Brennan can’t think you’re a failure, not this early.

“You could sit here with this plate all day and it wouldn’t change,” he says gently, confirming what you know deep down. “I don’t think you’re a mender. I think you’re something else entirely.”

You sit with the information for a moment.

“Signets take the form of our base need as a person,” he says. “We need to find out what that is for you.”

You already know. “I wake up every day grateful that Xaden bargained for our lives, but I have done too much harm in my time at Basgiath. The crown has done too much harm to Tyrrendor. All I’ve ever wished for is to fix that, to undo the pain.”

“To undo the pain, or to help move forward and grow?” He asks gently.

You aren’t sure.

———————————————————————

You go through your morning stretches, as always, focusing on your breath to distract from the pain in your side. 

“Your mate has returned.” Tab says, interrupting. “Thought you’d like to know.”

You bolt upright, running through the house toward the gates, bypassing Xaden to sprint straight toward Garrick.

He wraps you in a warm embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. You still fit together like puzzle pieces, even after months apart.

“You’re alive,” you breathe. “Nobody would tell me anything, I was worried sick,”

“Of course I’m alive, angel. Had to come back to you.”

You trace the Lieutenant’s patch across his collarbone, memorizing the shape. It looks natural on him, like it’s always been there. It sounds good, too. Lieutenant Garrick Tavis.

“I need to tell you something,” you say quietly, “I haven’t been entirely honest with you about-“

Footsteps approach. “Sorry to break up the reunion,” Felix says, “but Avan, we need you.”

There’s something in his tone that has your heart pounding. Which of your friends is it going to be this time?

“Tell me later,” Garrick says. “Go. Do what you were made to do.”

You know he means well, but his words tie your stomach in a knot. What you were made to do. Were you truly made to endure the suffering of others?

———————————————————————

Every muscle in your body feels like it’s on fire as you slump into a chair, sitting down for the first time that day. If you’re lucky, you’ll be able to get some sleep before you’re needed again.

“There you are. I didn’t see you in battle brief.” Garrick says, relieved.

“Haven’t been going,” you mumble. “They need me here. Bren’s teaching now, so s’ just me and one other mender.”

He realizes no healers had come with the riot from Basgiath. You likely haven’t left the infirmary since they’d arrived.

“Come to bed,” he coaxes softly. “You need sleep. You can't pour from an empty cup.”

Yes, you can. You have been for months.

He takes your hand, not giving you a choice. You lean into him as he leads you up the grand staircase to a room near Xaden’s. Your muscles protest every step, but you keep quiet.

You haven’t been in here for years, not since you’d left for Basgiath as candidates, but it’s exactly the same as you remember; dark drapery, bookshelves, a neat display of the knives that he hadn’t taken to school with him.

The sight has you in tears.

“Whoa, hey,” he says softly, pulling you closer, and you whimper in pain at the pressure against your ribs. He lets go immediately. “Angel, I’m sorry — are you hurt?”

You sob, the dam finally breaking and grief flooding out of you. You haven’t seen each other since that horrible day, you haven’t seen anyone from the squad you went with to Resson, haven’t had anyone to talk about it with, until now. 

You shake your head, tears dripping down your cheeks. “I couldn’t save Liam. I tried, I really did. All I could do was take his pain away.”

So Xaden had told Basgiath the truth, to some degree: you tried to fix Liam, and couldn’t. The boy’s death had hurt you badly enough that Xaden wouldn’t let you return to the school.

“There was nothing else you could do. Nobody could save him, not after Deigh…”

“I know that, but it wasn’t just him. Everyone I’ve ever… fixed, I’ve taken the pain from their body into mine, and I can’t get rid of it for days.”

Garrick’s heart breaks. So that’s what Chradh meant when he said you wouldn’t be in pain anymore if you left Basgiath. Those eight-hour days of mending infantry may as well have been torture for you. 

Torture. RSC. You’d healed his wounds, Xaden’s, Bodhi’s, Violet’s, time and time again without complaint, and he knew it took a lot out of you, but not that it hurt. “Angel, why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known…”

“I wanted to,” you sniffle, “I wanted to tell you a year ago when it started happening. I thought it was normal, that I was just weak, until Brennan told me that this doesn’t happen to him. He just gets tired, like everyone else does when they use their signets too much.”

You try to steady your breathing, but the pain in your not-broken ribs is too overwhelming. “I’ve spent hours practicing and I can’t even fix a broken plate. I’m not a mender. I don’t know what I am. Nobody does, not even the professors. Brennan thinks it’s getting better, but I don’t have it in me to tell him that it isn’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers. He wants to pull you into an embrace, wants to stroke your hair and tell you it’ll be okay, but he doesn’t want to hurt you any more than he already has.

“S’ not your fault.” You sniff.

“But it’s not yours, either,” he reminds you gently. “You’re so strong, angel. You crossed the parapet, ran the gauntlet, you bonded a dragon, and you’ve endured everything else. Please don’t ever think for a second that you’re weak.”

He takes your hand in his, watching your face carefully, but you don’t wince at the touch. “We’ll talk to Brennan tomorrow, together. For now, I just want you to get some sleep, okay?”

You nod silently, having run out of tears.

“Attagirl.”

As you settle into bed next to him, freshly showered and wearing one of his warm sweaters, you swear the pain has dimmed.

———————————————————————

When Garrick takes you to see Brennan the next morning, he isn’t alone. Your professors are seated beside him, along with some of the Tyrrish elders.

Devera speaks first. “We owe you an apology, Cadet Avan. The faculty was unaware that Carr and Varrish were using your signet as a method of punishment, or that it pains you to use it.”

“And I owe you an apology,” you say quietly. “I should have come back after the War Games.”

“That was my decision,” Xaden says firmly, “and I stand by it. She was in no condition to return to the school, much less to graduate and be stationed at an outpost across the continent from her support system, while still feeling the coldness of Cadet Mairi’s death.”

How does he know that you could feel it? Had you told him in your delirium? Had Brennan told him? Had you even told Brennan? 

“Your friends have effectively plead your case, and we agree that you have satisfied all the requirements for graduation from the Rider’s Quadrant.” Emeterrio says. “Congratulations, Lieutenant.”

Garrick slips your flight jacket onto your shoulders, and you notice the Lieutenant insignia has already been sewn on, to match his. When did he…? 

You accept the handshake Devera offers you, still a little dazed, but there’s one more order of business to address.

“May I rejoin my old squad?” You ask the table of professors quietly. “They are family to me. I would like to ride with them again, and aid them however I can.”

They exchange hesitant looks, and your heart sinks. Do they not think you’re good enough?

“I don’t see why not,” Brennan says firmly enough for everyone else to agree — he outranks the professors with the years he’s been part of the movement.

You exhale in relief.

Garrick cheers. “The dream team is back, baby!” He pulls you into a gentle embrace, knowing you’re still in pain, but wanting to hold you close.

You laugh, not minding the ache in your ribs.

Xaden is unimpressed. “When have we ever once called ourselves the dream team?”

“We haven’t, but I’m starting now. It’ll stick. I’ll have it embroidered on your flight jacket, Xay.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Xaden replies, setting off a brotherly argument behind you.

You look to the leadership once more, bowing your head in respect. “Thank you. For everything.”

Devera gives you a warm smile. “I am glad to see you have found your place here, Lieutenant. Remember that your empathy is a gift, even in times of war.”

Empathy.

“Am I dismissed?” You ask.

“Yes, Lieutenants, you are all dismissed,” Emeterrio answers dryly, looking over your shoulder at Garrick and Xaden. The latter has the former in a playful headlock, messing up his hair. 

“Human boys,” Tab says, exasperated. You laugh in agreement, leaving them in the Assembly room to sort themselves out.

It’s easy enough to find who you’re looking for — he’s the only person sitting completely alone in the mess, a textbook open in front of him that he isn’t reading. He’s gazing into the distance, eyes unfocused, but he looks up when he realizes you’re standing in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly, “about what I saw in Varrish’s office. I had no idea how much you all have endured. What we are taught in Navarre is only one side of the story, but you showed me the other.”

“I’m glad I could help change your mind.”

He reaches into the pocket of his flight jacket and extends a hand. Your protection rune sits in his palm, complete with a new leather cord. “A peace offering. I stole it back from Varrish, and Brennan mended it.”

You smile, taking it from him and slipping it back over your head. “You’re turning into quite the rule-breaker, Aetos. But thank you. It means a lot to me.”

You’re about to leave, but something compels you to impart a piece of advice. “I know how it feels when people don’t want to trust you because of your family history. It’ll take a while for some of them to warm up to you, but you can make it go a lot faster if you keep yourself out of trouble.”

———————————————————————

Your first flight back with your squad is supposed to be easy, a surveying flight with a small riot, just to check their perimeters, but you can’t seem to quell your anxiety as you take off.

“We will be fine, gentle one. We’re in strong company,” Tab reassures. He stays close to Chradh, knowing Garrick’s proximity will calm you. “How does it feel to be back?”

“Good. I’ve missed this.”

“You have always enjoyed being up this high,” he agrees. “Shall we review some of our basic maneuvers?”

“Sure.”  Maybe that will settle your nerves.

“Hold on.” Tab dips, practicing all the angles — banking right, left, up, down.

“Something is wrong,” you blurt, and Tab straightens his path immediately, falling back into the formation. Every nerve in your body pulses with a sensation you’ve never felt before, standing on end. “Something really bad is going to happen.”

You’re right.

“Wyvern,” Tab warns just as they come into your line of sight. They charge straight at the front of the riot, where Sgaeyl leads the pack. 

You’re outmatched, nearly two dozen of them and only ten of you. You’re going to die here. At least you’ll be with your best friends.

“That kind of thinking isn’t helpful!” Tab scolds, tightening the formation. 

One gets too close for comfort, spewing blue flame, and Chradh banks hard - too hard. You gasp in horror as Garrick is thrown from his seat down to the ground below.

“Dive!” You yell, and Tab follows without hesitation, making a near-vertical drop.

You’ve never been so grateful for the running landing they’d taught you last year. It had been excruciating to execute on top of the pain of unbroken bones, but it’s just manageable now after a few days off from the infirmary.

Clutching Failsafe for dear life, your only defense, you sprint toward Garrick’s limp body, ripping off your goggles.

His heart still beats, but multiple bones look broken, his breathing labored. Touching him is almost unbearable, which tells you he won’t last much longer if you don’t do something.

Deep breaths, like Brennan had taught you, to accept their pain as it entered your body, holding it before batting it away like a fly.

You still haven’t figured out how to make that work.

Hot tears roll down your cheeks, and you start to berate yourself; Why can’t you do this? Compose yourself. Garrick is going to die if you can’t pull it together. Garrick is going to die, just like Liam did, because you aren’t strong enough to fix a fucking plate.

Anger overcomes you for the first time since you’d watched your parents die six years ago. You scream, a sound like nothing you’ve ever heard before splitting the air. The pain dissipates almost instantly. For the first time in two years, your body isn’t aching, and you sob in relief.

Garrick bolts upright, gasping for breath as spring blooms across the snowy plain, trees with bare branches suddenly teeming with green leaves.

Tab roars in pride and the rest of the riot joins in, the cliffs shaking from the volume of their celebration. 

“Lifebringer!” He thunders into your mind. 

Your head snaps upward, and you realize that the ground is littered with motionless wyvern.

Garrick pulls you to your feet, brushing the tears from your cheeks. “Come on, angel,” he says, grinning, “we have a war to win.”

You’re still dazed as Tab brings you back to Riorson house, Garrick helping you dismount and leading you inside.

“We have a weapon,” Xaden says, actually smiling as he faces the assembly. “Something, someone, that can destroy wyvern in their tracks.”

Garrick keeps you glued to his side as Xaden tells the elders what happened, but it’s all in one ear, out the other.

You’re dismissed after a few minutes, heading back out to the mess, where your friends gather around one of the large tables in the library.

“Tab called me lifebringer,” you say, confused. “What is that?”

“I thought it was just folklore,” Violet says from a few rows down, scanning the shelves, and everyone turns to her, listening. “Lifebringers are said to influence healing and growth. In some cultures, they’ve been credited with ending famines by rejuvenating harvests, and saving the innocent from the grasp of Malek and his Death.”

“Wicked,” Ridoc appraises quietly.

“Aha.” Violet produces a thin volume, cracking it open to the right page. The illustration there looks uncannily like you.

“Only the purest of heart can be lifebringers, those who hold no malice toward their fellow man. The weapons they carry are sharp, but unused,” she reads aloud. “Garrick gave you Failsafe as just that — a failsafe. You never drew blood with it. You never hurt anyone except in challenges, when it was kill or be killed, and even then you held back.”

Bodhi speaks next. “With most signets, the stronger the wielder’s emotion, the more powerful the ability becomes. You feel empathy for the wounded, so you can fix them and ease their pain, but when you thought Garrick was going to die, that was another level of distress, and I guess it was enough to overcome the dark magic.” 

Garrick squeezes your shoulder in reassurance that he’s still very much alive beside you.

Violet closes the book, setting it down.

“I’m not in pain anymore,” you whisper, still dazed. You’ve almost forgotten what that feels like, having spent the last three years holding both your own and that of all your friends.

“You needed an outlet,” Xaden says. “Pain makes it harder to channel, and you were in pain 24/7, which is why the professors thought your signet was underdeveloped. Getting angry, and getting that energy out of your body allowed you to use the full extent of your power.”

“If I had known this earlier, do you think I could have…” you don’t finish the sentence. Everyone in this room knows how hard you’d tried to save Liam.

“Maybe,” Violet says quietly, “but that is not a path you want to go down. Trust me.”

———————————————————————

“Do you want to explain why the hallway was full of sunflowers when I went to bed last night?” Xaden asks slyly, dropping into a seat in front of you with a plate of eggs and bacon.

You burn with embarrassment.

Bodhi grins. “You see, cousin, when a man and a woman love each other very much, - ow, fuck!” He exclaims, rubbing the back of his head where Garrick had whacked him.

“At least they didn’t set the vale on fire,” another of your squadmates says, looking at Xaden and Violet pointedly. “You still owe me for putting that out, by the way.”

Your eyes widen as you connect the dots. “So all that dry lightning last year was you two…”

“Okay, changing the subject!” Brennan says loudly, not liking the way this conversation is headed. “We need to figure out how to use your signet without endangering Tavis’s life again.”

“Well, it sounds like they already found another way,” Ridoc says, grinning, but he squeaks out an apology as Garrick begins to rise from his chair.

You tug your boyfriend back into his seat by the sleeve, looking past him at Brennan. “I think I need to work a few days in the infirmary between flights,” you propose. “If I build up enough pain, I could probably-“

“NO,” the whole squad says at once, Tab included.

“Your healing is only to be used when absolutely necessary,” Xaden orders, and even though you’re on equal footing now, both newly-minted Lieutenants, you agree quietly without protest.

“See, that’s your problem,” Sloane says, and all eyes turn to her. “You defer to literally everyone. You’re an officer now. Act like it.”

“Pardon?” You ask, looking at her in disbelief.

“That’s exactly what she’s talking about,” Imogen cuts in. “Pardon? You can’t even discipline a first-year cadet. Do you really think any veteran rider will ever listen to what you have to say?”

“Enough,” you say firmly, your nails digging into the wood.

None of your friends intervene, not even Brennan. This has to be another nightmare. There’s no way they'd hang you out to dry like this. Right?

Sloane isn’t finished. “It’s a miracle you made it out of Basgiath alive. You’re too soft. If you won’t kill anyone, what are you going to do when it’s between your life or someone else’s? Their life or his?”

The mention of Garrick is your last straw. “That is enough from both of you, Cadets,” you reprimand. Thorny vines burst from the seams of the table, whipping out toward them, and they stagger back to avoid being cut.

You startle, your heart pounding against your ribs as you realize what you’ve done.

Sloane is the first to apologize. “I’m sorry. We didn’t mean any of it. I just thought that provoking you might…” she doesn’t finish the sentence, looking down at the still-twitching vines covering the tabletop.

“We definitely took it too far,” Imogen adds, sounding genuinely remorseful. “That was a really fucked up thing for me to say. I’m sorry.”

Bodhi waves a hand, and the vines slither back into the table, as if they were never there. 

Your eyes widen at the blood on his cheeks — he’d been caught in the crossfire. You touch his face with a shaky hand, only brushing your fingertips across the skin, and the scratches disappear instantly, leaving no trace of the harm you’d done.

Somehow that makes you feel worse.

“Well,” Garrick says in his section-leader voice, “that was certainly informative, but none of you are to ever disrespect her like that again. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” both girls answer quietly, heads lowered in shame.

Your breathing has steadied enough to speak. “I understand why you did that, but I’m not going to tell you that it was okay, because it wasn’t.”

With that, you take your plate and leave. Nobody follows you.

———————————————————————

The balcony door slides open, soft footsteps approaching.

“I want to be alone, Gare,” you say quietly. 

“Not Garrick,” Xaden replies, settling down next to you on the stone floor, “and you may want to be alone right now, but you probably shouldn’t be.”

“I didn't mean to hurt anyone, Xay. You know that,” you whisper. You don’t move your gaze from the potted plant in front of you, as if you’re worried it will lash out at you — or him — if you turn away.

“I know, angel. I know.” He exhales deeply, a gentle cloud forming with the warmth of his breath. 

There’s a moment of quiet before he speaks again, just the sound of the cold wind over the valley and the distant footsteps of cadets running on the trail below. “Working through this is not going to be easy, but if anyone can do it, it’s you.”

You’ve come to hate that notion, everyone’s insistence that the pain you’ve been through has primed you for more pain, different pain. Why can’t it ever end?

#garrick tavis x reader #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing reader insert #garrick tavis #fourth wing #reader insert #imagine

[elvensorceress]

wip wednesday

tagged by @bekkachaos @tizniz @spotsandsocks @confetti-cupcake @wikiangela @hoodie-buck @exhuastedpigeon @sibylsleaves @daffi-990 @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus tagging if you haven't played yet 💕 @eddiebabygirldiaz @wh0re-behavi0r @eddiediazisascorpio @kitteneddiediaz @monsterrae1 @lemonzestywrites @pinklobstertale @jesuiscenseedormir @jesuisici33 @chaosandwolves @frenziedblaze @family-tree-of-ships

some more of this little thing 👀

When Buck opens his eyes, someone is sitting on the couch near his feet the way Chris does. Someone who shouldn’t be here. Buck sits up frantically and stares at the vision of Eddie, healthy and beautiful and here and unharmed. 

Buck is dreaming. That’s it. Has to be. Wow, he actually fell asleep? Enough to dream? 

“Hey, Buck,” this Eddie says softly, and it sounds so real. It’s gentle and loving and full of warmth like Eddie always is when they talk. 

Buck reaches for him. He sits up and needs to hug him, hold him, feel him alive and breathing on his own. But when Buck reaches him, he touches nothing. There’s nothing to touch. 

He’s dreaming. It’s a vision. Nothing solid. Buck sags and sits back on his side of the couch and stares instead. Maybe looking at whole, healthy beautiful Eddie will somehow manifest this into reality. “You’re not real. You’re not here. I’m dreaming, right? And talking to myself? Apparently.”

“Either that or I am,” Eddie says. 

Buck hadn’t considered that. Maybe Buck is the one who isn’t real. Maybe none of this is real and the whole of his existence is in his mind. Or in the mind of someone else? 

Who knows. It’s too convoluted and too much to think about. But he’s read about this happening before. Someone’s loved one in the hospital, near death, and how their family had dreams or visions of them visiting. Maybe relaying messages. Maybe offering a comforting presence. Maybe nothing but the imagination of a mind wrecked by tragedy. Doesn’t really matter either way. 

“Why are you here? Buck asks him even if he’s talking to himself. 

Eddie swallows and looks pained. And so real. So, so vividly real. Even if nothing is real anymore. “I wanted to be with you.”

Buck reaches for him again because he has to. Eddie offers his hand in return this time. 

Their fingers go through each other. Not touching. Nothing to feel. Nothing tangible. 

They can’t touch.

Why would they? Even in a dream, they don’t get to have anything of each other. 

“Please don’t die,” Buck says. 

Eddie gives him a pained smile. “I’m trying really hard not to.” 

Buck knows that. He knows Eddie would fight. Is fighting. He had to say it anyway. “Why did you— why? I mean I know it’s our job and that’s what we do. But what happened? Why— why was it like that? Why did it end up like that?” 

Did you do it on purpose? Did you sacrifice yourself to save Tommy? Did you do that?

Eddie looks away from him, exactly how real Eddie would. He shrugs. As if it’s nothing. As if it’s just an accident. As if there was no emotion behind anything. “I know you need him. I wasn’t going to let you lose him.”

Buck closes his eyes, bends his head, and just wants to cry again like he has been for more than two weeks. “Eddie,” he sobs and clutches himself around his chest, around his own body since he can’t touch Eddie. “I need you, too. I can’t— This isn’t okay. This is worse. This is so much worse. Not that I want it the other way. It would have killed me, too. But. I can’t do this. I can’t lose you. I need you, too.”

“I figured,” Eddie says quietly. So quiet and strained and absent and distant. Too distant. “If you had to choose. You already chose. You picked him. I couldn’t let you lose him.” 

At this point, Buck isn’t sure which is worse— if this is real and what Eddie really thinks or if this is his own mind telling him what he already feels guilty about. 

#buddie #buddie wip #jenwyn wip #wip wednesday #fic: if i should fall #911 fic #911 #minor implied bucktommy but lbr this is me #yes I will use any little excuse to add magical realism and the paranormal #I was raised on the x-files okay

[astrophileous]

Love Bugs (Pt. 03)

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Female Reader

Synopsis: You and Derek Morgan have an arrangement. At work, your relationship is strictly business. Under the sheets, it's all about pleasure. Nothing more, nothing less. Until, of course, your feelings start to get involved. Your situation is complicated enough without the unexpexted predicament that suddenly befalls upon you. But with a maniac serial killer on the loose, will you ever get the chance to make everything right?

Warning(s): pregnancy, brief talk of abortion, stalker behavior, kidnapping, curse words (this shouldn't even warrant a warning at this point lol) pls lmk if I miss anything

Word Count: 2000-ish

Author's Note: told ya the pt 3 would be here sooner than you'd expect! as always, LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG cause these give me the motivation I need to finish the parts sooner and maybe upload more frequently 👀

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You always took pride in your ability to predict things correctly. It was one of the best traits that made you a great profiler.

Not this time, though.

This time, your ability to conjure correct predictions just seemed like a big joke that the universe purposefully played out to torture your ass.

The ringtone of your phone's incoming call snapped you back to reality. Without looking at the caller ID, you pressed the green button and brought the device to your ear.

"(Y/L/N) speaking."

"Hey, Beets. Where are you?" came the voice of one Penelope Garcia. "Hotch is looking for you. Are you coming in today?"

"Huh? Yeah, I'm coming in. Sorry, it was an emergency. Tell the others I'll be there shortly."

After ending the call, you rushed through the rest of your morning routine as quickly as possible. The three opened boxes on the bathroom sink were thrown into the garbage can in no time. Their contents sitting on the counter, however, required you to pause and contemplate what course of actions you would want to do to deal with the problem at hand.

Upon realizing that this was not the kind of dilemma you could solve in a matter of minutes, you decided to fuck it before dumping the items into the same garbage can.

The three tests with two little pink lines would have to wait.

You had a serial murder case to solve.

If five months ago someone had told you that you'd someday end up carrying the child of Derek Morgan, you would have ordered a psychological evaluation for them right then and there.

The past few days had been a catastrophic turmoil. At first, the irrational anger had devoured you whole. You were this close to calling the company who produced your pills for claiming that they had 99% chance of preventing exactly the kind of mess you were going through from happening. Granted, they had put the minus 1% up there to save face in case anything like this were to ever happen. But what were the chances of you being one of the outliers in that small percentage?

Apparently, a pretty good one.

Then, the panic quickly had taken control and messed up with your head. The endless anxiety of having to bring a child into such a cruel world and bearing the responsibility of raising it, while having witnessed what kind of evil lurked underneath its facade, almost threw you to the brink of insanity. During those moments of fear, you had even entertained the idea of possibly terminating the pregnancy, even going as far as calling the nearest facility to question more about the procedure.

But once the fog had cleared, and you were able to start thinking rationally again, realization soon dawned upon you.

You wanted to keep the baby.

In some curious plot twist, you discovered that the idea of having this baby wasn't as scary as the knowledge of having to face Derek and inform him of the news.

And that was exactly what had been occupying your entire mind: how to break the news to Derek.

You barely even had the guts to talk to him directly anymore. Yet somehow, you had to find a way to tell him that you were pregnant, right to his face, as if you were bringing the news of a new movie that had just premiered in your nearest local theater.

How the hell were you ever going to do that?

And it wasn't like you were worried that Derek wouldn't be supportive about your decision to keep the baby. Even if he was unsupportive, there was nothing he could do to persuade you to change your mind. But Derek--sweet and kindhearted Derek--would never do such a thing. Having lost his father at a very young age himself, there was no way anyone could keep him from taking care of his child, no matter how they came to be in this world.

So, before you could gather your thoughts--and yourself--you had decided to put off telling Derek about your current condition.

"Still nothing, Garcia?" Hotch asked from his place in front of the board.

"I'm so sorry, sir. I've tried everything, but there was nothing else I could uncover from that tape."

The rest of the team was seated around the round table. It had been two weeks since the BAU received the video tape from the UnSub, and Garcia had finally revealed that there was nothing more to be analyzed from the tape despite having only obtained insignificant details out of it.

It also didn't help that the UnSub had been lying dormant since that video was delivered.

"It just doesn't make sense," Rossi said frustratedly. "Why would he stop now? What is he waiting for? This guy gets off on attention. Stopping his theatrics at a time like this doesn't fit his profile at all."

"He must be looking to get his attention from somewhere else," Derek chimed in.

"Yeah, but the question is where?" Reid interjected.

"And what is he planning to do to make sure he gets it?" Hotch let out a long sigh before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, we're not going to stop just because this guy has. Emily, JJ, try interviewing the victims' families, friends, and the witnesses again. See if they suddenly have something useful for us. Morgan and Rossi, follow up on our other leads. Reid--"

"The case files. I know." Reid nodded.

"Right. And (Y/L/N)--" Hotch pinned his stare towards you, "--I need to talk to you. Thank you, everyone. Dismissed."

"Are you in trouble?" Emily leaned in as the rest of the team scattered out of the room.

"Not as far as I know," you whispered.

As you walked the path to Hotch's office, your mind began searching for the possibilities behind Hotch's sudden request to see you privately. You didn't get to guess for too long, though, as you finally arrived in front of his door almost in no time at all.

"Come on in, Agent. Close the door behind you," he commanded. You turned around to nudge the door closed. "Have a seat."

You didn't spend any time beating around the bush once you had sat down.

"Can I ask what this is about?"

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?" Hotch looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "I heard you requested a half day off today."

"I, uh... yes. Yes, I did. Is that why I'm here?"

"No. That is not why you're here." Hotch leaned back against his seat. "You've been distracted lately. You're coming late to work, and you can't seem to focus when you're around."

"I-I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"You should know that I've received concerns about you from the other members of the team."

What?

"Was it JJ?" you asked. "Because if this is about what happened in the bathroom--"

"It was Garcia, actually."

"Oh."

Hotch looked at you curiously. "What happened with JJ in the bathroom?"

"Nothing, sir. It was nothing."

The next few seconds were drowned in silence. The ticking clock on Hotch's desk became the only sound echoing against the walls. Hotch was examining you as if you were a suspect in the interrogation room, and with how much scrutiny was sizzling inside those eyes, you might as well have been.

"They're not the only ones concerned about you, (Y/L/N)," he spoke carefully. "I've also noticed that you haven't been yourself lately. You seem tired all the time. You look paler every single day." Hotch readjusted his tie before continuing, "I know that what we do here isn't easy. This job, it's not for everyone. Sometimes our limits are much smaller than what we thought it would be, and that's okay. If you'd like to put in a request for a transfer, I'm sure I will be able--"

"Sir," you stopped him before he could go on any further. "I don't want to transfer. I like working here."

"Just because you like working somewhere, it doesn't mean--"

"Hotch," you cut him off once more. "I'm pregnant."

The priceless look on Hotch's face at the sudden drop of your announcement would forever be ingrained in your brain.

"What?"

"I found out two weeks ago." You smiled tentatively. "I've been having severe morning sickness, and my appetite has also not been the best. Probably why I look tired all the time. I didn't mean to let my condition affect my work, I'm sorry."

"No, no. That's... wow. You're pregnant." Hotch started to nod as if the news was just beginning to fully settle upon him. "Congratulations, Agent. That's wonderful news. You are... happy, right?"

You smiled at his considerate question. "I am very much. Yes."

"How far along are you?"

"My guess is eight to ten weeks. I'm not so sure. Today is my first ultrasound, hence why I requested for half a day."

And then, by some unknown piece of miracle, Aaron Hotchner started to laugh. A real, actual laugh that had both of his eyes wrinkling in the corners. You didn't even know that he could do that without Jack around.

"When I called you in here earlier, this isn't exactly how I pictured the conversation would go," he admitted.

"Neither did I."

"Well--" He cleared his throat, "--there's, of course, a few things we need to go over in rumination of your current condition, but I'm sure we can manage that some other time."

"Of course, sir."

"And (Y/L/N)?" You stared at him expectantly. "You can come to me if you ever need anything. You know that, right?"

The sincerity in Hotch's declaration nearly brought you to tears. You immediately tried to blink back the emotions before you could make a mess of yourself in front of your boss.

"Of course, Hotch. Thank you."

You got up from the chair and began walking towards the door. Before your fingers could touch the handle, you decided to turn around once more.

"Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"I would appreciate it if we kept this between us for now."

"Of course, Agent." He nodded. "You have my word."

And with that, you exited Hotch's room before heading back straight to your desk.

A few hours later, you were finally returning home after attending the doctor appointment.

Confirming your earlier prediction, the doctor had put the estimated age of your fetus at around ten weeks. According to the internet, your baby was not larger than the size of a mere apricot. It was nothing more than a tiny blob in the sonogram image, but the sight of it alone somehow made you want to break down in tears.

Before you could turn into a sobbing ball of mess, you decided to put the picture right on the front of your fridge.

"Alright, I think that's--"

Thud.

Your head instinctively whipped around at the mysterious sound.

Without wasting another second, your hand immediately reached for the gun tucked safely in your holster. The tiny footsteps you took sounded deafening in the silence of your apartment. You first checked the bathroom, finding it empty with nothing out of the ordinary. The two bedrooms were pretty much the same. Quiet and a little messy just the way that you had left them that morning.

Sighing, you brushed off your paranoia as a result of your overactive hormons and creeping exhaustion.

When you reemerged from taking a shower nearly an hour later, the feeling of dread once again washed over your entire being.

At first glance, not a single thing in the apartment seemed to be out of place. But somehow, the feeling of another presence in the room was indisputable. Your wet feet slowly moved along the floor, careful as to not make as much sound as possible.

Once you arrived in the kitchen, you took in your surrounding, making sure that things really were staying in the places they should have been in.

You were about to sigh in relief until you saw it.

The sonogram image you previously had glued to the fridge.

It was now lying on the floor.

Before you could have a chance to grab the nearest weapon, the door to the second bedroom behind you suddenly began to creak.

"Boo."

That was the last thing you remembered before everything went dark.

#derek morgan #derek morgan self insert #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x y/n #derek morgan fic #derek morgan fanfiction #derek morgan fluff #derek morgan angst #derek morgan smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds smut #love bugs #shemar moore

[squishycheekanon]

Hear me out: Prince! Techno with a Beauty and the Beast vibe 👀👀

Prince!Techno x reader

Fantasy reality

Okay it’s done, finally. I have proof read this like ten times so I’m an idiot if there’s any mistakes😂

Warnings: 18+, we are a cold bitch to begin with, slow burn, smut, NSFW, murder, blood, there will be character descriptions in here that match the time it’s set so if you don’t have long hair just imagine ;), fantasy cultural differences, plus GOT references, this shit it long, this is probably not what you asked for but it’s what my mind came up with.

Winter is coming, that you were sure of. Too many people shivered in the streets, too much coal and wood was being burnt to save from the nasty chill of winter. Although you didn’t mind it. Taking a stroll through your now frozen gardens had given you the most pleasure you’d felt in months. Ever since your father promised you to the Prince of Rinesdale.

Your guards heavy footsteps thumbed behind you as you walked, their metal armour creaking when they moved. The sound made you sigh as your leather gloved hand plucked a black rose from one of your many rose bushes. Your long wavy yet partly braided hair blew in the cold wind leading one of your guards to speak up, “My lady it is far to cold to be out here, your father wouldn’t like it.”

“Then it’s a good think he isn’t here, Ser Ren.” Your sharply formed words make the guard step back into line with the other three, his eyes however stay on your figure examining the dark black cloak you wore over your dark black dress, your hair falling down your back. They linger for a moment before they’re torn away by your brothers new bride.

“Sister!” You internally groan at the sound of your new sister in law, her happy and giddy energy making your stomach churn as she links her arm with yours making you drop your rose.

“I heard about your marriage to the Prince! How amazing!” She squealed like a little girl coming to stand in front of you stomping your black petals into the ground.

“Amazing? How so?” Your tone is harsh and maybe you should have tried to soften it for the halfwit but you can’t find it in yourself to do so.

“Well it’s the Prince which means you’ll get to be Queen one day.” She giggled smiling a little too much, “and that would be very exciting for you.” her hand reaches up to push a piece of hair behind your ear but you catch her wrist in a tight grip before she can.

“If you ever call me sister again, I’ll have you drawn and quartered.” The words scare her but your cold eyes are what’s making the girl shake in your hold, she whimpers and soon she’s gone.

“My lady I don’t think that was wise.” Ser Ren mumbles once again a little closer to you than you both know he should be. You whip around your eyes blazing with wildfire, the ruthless dangerous guard steps back as if burned.

“You are not here to tell me what you think, you are here to guard me.” You spit through gritted teeth trying to control your anger, the same anger that’s been bubbling since summer last, since the announcement. Any little thing threatening it to bubble over and you’re not the only one who notices.

“You’ve not been the same since the announcement of your betrothal My lady.” The bald and rather plump priest speaks walking slowly beside you, his devotion to your father clear in his voice. The only reason he’s here is because your father ordered it.

“No? Gosh how strange that I’m not happy about being sold like a piece of meat by the man who’s supposed to love me.” You scoff looking around the cold gardens.

“You know your father loves you very much, he’s only doing what he thinks is best.” The priest speaks but all you hear is your father’s voice ringing in your ears.

“Oh yes? Then where is he? Why isn’t he here? Oh that’s right, he’s forging the alliance with the Blades and I’m to be the prize of it all, like a succulent pig at a feast. May as well stick the apple in my mouth now.” You rant watching the older man smile slightly.

“There’s so much of your mother in you.” He smiled softly, fondness in his eyes.

“I asked you never to speak about her with me.” Your voice is suddenly small and you feel it too. Small and weak when your weakness is suddenly brought to light once more.

Your mother The first lady Draygon. Stark black hair, wonderful figure, beauty screamed from her. It was a tragedy when she was murdered, your father destroyed the men who did it. Her statue resides in the crypt that runs below your cold home and you visit it every chance you get.

“I apologise Lady Draygon, you won’t hear me speak of it again. I must get back to the temple soon, I have only come to inform you that your departure will be tomorrow at dawn. Good day my lady and safe travels.” The priest leaves before you can argue knowing that was what was coming.

“Fuck.”

“My lady-“

“Oh stick a sock in it Ren.” You grunt marching off trying to ignore the quickened sound of those footsteps until your wooden door is slammed right in their faces. A place they can’t enter. A place that is entirely your own, you revel in it for tomorrow you’re certain you’ll never have anything like it again.

—

Your goodbye from your brother wasn’t much, though you suppose after threatening his wife it was what it ought to have been. The carriage ride then the boat ride then the other carriage ride was tedious and far too long in your opinion. You were bored and a bored Lady Draygon was never a good thing.

You heard the rustle and bustle of life, people making a fuss as your carriage came to a stop outside the Gold Keep, your guard helping you step out. The city of Rinesdale was very large, built with sturdy stone and brick. The castle was the biggest building here you’d noticed, your cold eyes purposely ignoring the group of people that stood in front of it. Royals.

Your midnight coloured dress stood out amongst the bright reds and yellows and oranges that plagued the city. It was a statement along with how you wore your hair regardless if your handmaiden had advised you otherwise. You wore it in the Northern way, where you were from, where you were now was the South and you would not conform to their ways despite being betrothed to a southerner.

“Lady Draygon what an honour it is to have you with us.” The Queen was the first to speak after you climbed the steps and curtsied to the southern royals.

“The honour is mine, Your Grace.” You smile but you’re one hundred percent sure she can tell it’s fake.

“You were only a babe the last time I saw you.” The kings accent is strong and it makes a real smile pull at your lips, the same accent as your mother had.

“I’ve grown since then your majesty.” I joke and he lets out a hearty chuckle, it’s deep and comes from his chest making his round belly shake.

“Indeed you have my dear, come and meet your betrothed.” He smiles his voice turning slightly serious as he eyes my four guards behind me, respecting them with a nod.

“Lady Draygon, this is Prince Techno, the fourth Blade to sit on the Silver throne, a knight of the white realm and my son.” The king’s chest swells with pride when Techno steps forward grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. The feel of his lips against your skin has shivers running down your spine.

Only when he stands do you manage to get a real good look at him and by the gods he was gorgeous. A true Prince if you ever saw one, his long wavy pink hair with braids in it was a little like yours but styled the southern way. His ruby eyes, his sharp face, pale skin. He was big too, he almost looked a little too big to be a royal, more like a kings guard or knight, someone who’s sees regular action. Even through his belted tunic, breeches and royal coat you could tell he was all muscle. You were just hoping that he was brains too.

“My lady, may I say you are beautiful.” The prince’s monotone voice has a need beginning to grind inside you that you’ve never felt before.

“I think you just did.” You quip pulling your hand away from his touch and turning to the king. “If you please your Majesty, might I see my father?” You try to be as polite as you can speaking over the crowd that cheering in the background.

“He did not tell you child? He left for Fell yesterday.” The king said with a small frown that seemed to be contagious for all the Blades now wore it even the two little princesses that stood next to Techno, his sisters.

“No, he didn’t tell me a thing.” You push a tight smile onto your face, it didn’t stay there for long at all. You know why your father didn’t tell you he was returning from where you’d just come from, he didn’t want to deal with your wrath. It said so in the letter that was left in your new quarters.

“Well fuck.” You grunt sitting down on your bed and scrunching up the letter in your hand, the chambers were nice enough but you didn’t take much time to examine them. You knew you’d be moving rooms once you’re married anyway so it hardly mattered what it looked like.

The sound of a knock at your door had you standing to attention, “yes?”

“It’s Prince Techno my lady.” The deep voice echoed in the hallway.

“Come in.” You sigh trying to force yourself to sound even remotely happy. The door opens and Ser Ren gives you a look but you give a subtle shake of your head, you knew how to protect yourself if anything happened and with that the door shut.

Techno looked almost like he didn’t know what to do with himself, the awkwardness in the air was pungent. “I apologise if I interrupted anything.” He said gesturing to the scrunched up parchment in your hand.

“It’s quite alright my Lord, I had already finished reading it when you knocked.” You cleared your throat placing the paper on your bed.

“It must be odd coming here.” He smiled but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes, it’s um rather warm compared to what im used to.” You reply.

“Do you miss it?” He asked an underlining hopefulness in his voice, hoping for you to say no but he knows you won’t.

“Yes. I do, very much. Why are you here may I ask?” You snap and although it’s a little too subtle for others to pick up on, he does.

“You are to be my wife soon, I suppose I wanted to get to know the woman who I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.” He answered searching your face for any feeling and coming up empty.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of time for that.” You don’t smile this time having had enough of those pleasantries. “Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going to get ready for dinner.” He looks a little shocked at your answer but nods and leaves you.

You were cold he had assessed, certainly suited Fell but now you were here in Rinesdale and you were to be his Queen one day. How was he to break through your tough exterior? How was he to tame the beast inside you? Only time would tell but he hoped he could do it.

Seeing how his mother was walked all over by his father while said father got drunk, ate too much and fucked too many whores. He didn’t want to be like that, he didn’t want his marriage to be like that. He was determined it wouldn’t be, but by the gods how was he supposed to tell you of his own beast? He was sure that your father had not told you of what he became once a month on the nights of the red moon.

No, right now getting to know you and wooing you were far more important than anything else. He would deal with his family line’s secret after you’d fallen in love with him. It was the safest option.

The feast they called dinner went by deathly slow, dancing, drinking and eating was enjoyed by everyone. Everyone in the castle showing signs of merriment, the king a little too much in your opinion.

You were all too happy to leave. You excused yourself to the bathroom and soon after found yourself in the gardens. They weren’t frozen nor did they sprout your beautiful black roses but they seemed nice enough under the stars.

Your stroll was soon interrupted by none other than the man you had been promised to. “I saw you slip out and wondered where you had gone.” He explained when you asked him why he wasn’t at the feast.

You nodded taking his arm when he offered it to once more walk. You noticed he seemed on edge and truth be told he was. He was getting agitated for the blood moon would soon be upon him. His father told him a few years ago that there were several things he could do leading up to the time but they were all vulgar and he refused them. He didn’t want to get drunk or fuck or kill. So he didn’t.

“Are you alright My Lord?” You asked blinking up at him, your cautious eyes watching him carefully. The creaking of heavy metal behind you gave you a reassurance that you were safe calming your beating heart.

“Yes I’m quite alright just a bit too much to drink I think, and please call me Techno.” He confessed with a guilty smile that made you giggle.

“Most men feel guilty for more than having too much to drink.” You smile, maybe you had had too much to drink too?

“I’m glad to be one of the few that feel guilty for less.” He smirks giving your hand a gently squeeze. You both continued to walk around the gardens until you became tired, Techno escorted you to your chambers and bid you goodnight.

-

“My Lord? Where are you going?” You asked seeing the king and the kings guard all on horses outside the Gold Keep. You had become more familiar with the castle in the past two months you’d been there.

“Ah my lady, a hunting trip. We shall be back tomorrow. I’ll bring you back a present.” Techno winked, his masculine spiced scent making you light headed yet you managed a goodbye.

“Until tomorrow then my Lord.” You smiled softly, watching his face soften significantly.

“Until tomorrow my lady.” He kissed your knuckles before jumping on his horse and galloping away.

Tomorrow was such a long time you had concluded as you tossed and turned the night away under the red moonlight but when it came Techno was true to his word. His clothes were a little torn and bloodied but he brought you back some soft pelts of whatever animal he had clearly hunted.

The same pelts that now graced your bed and kept you warm now that the temperature had dropped a little signalling that Winter had arrived in Rinesdale. There was no snow but it was colder for certain, making all the women wear long sleeved dresses and the men adorning their cloaks a little longer.

You had remained wearing dark colours the entire time you were in Rinesdale, a detail the Queen certainly hadn’t missed. “Do you intend on wearing those darknesses forever?” She asked, her tone a little too harsh and her words a little too slurred to assume she was sober. A golden goblet in her hand as she stared at you from across the dinner table where you and Techno and all his family sat eating.

“They are colours that remind me of home.” You replied with a smile trying to make her see you came in peace. The past month her kindness to you had dulled.

“This is your home now. You should-“

“She can wear whatever she’d like mother, leave it alone.” Techno grunted shutting the Queen down.

“I meant no offence-“

“No harm done my lady.” Techno looked at you with all seriousness his hand gripping yours to stroke his thumb over your skin. The rest of the dinner was tense, you received hateful glances from the Queen while the king got drunk and started to flirt with one of the maids at that point Techno gripped your hand once more and dragged you away.

You walked arm in arm around the large castle sometimes talking, sometimes not but either way you felt soothed and peaceful. You both stopped at a small balcony sitting down on a bench so you could overlook the city.

“Your guard follows you everywhere.” Techno chuckles glancing at Ser Ren, “most ladies have handmaidens instead.” He jokes his large fingers entwining with yours.

“What good is a handmaiden if my life is in danger?” You replied with a little laugh, “I’ve know Ser Ren since I was a child, he protected my older brother and when I was born he swore to protect me.”

“Well I’m glad you’ll have someone to protect you when I’m not around.” He said pushing some hair behind your ear making you turn to face him, your eyes meet and your entranced just as much as he is.

“My Lord.” You sigh not being able to look away as he leans in closer and closer until your lips are barely touching.

“How many times must I ask you to call me Techno?” He breathes smashing his lips on yours stealing a moan from your throat and swallowing it hoping to treasure it forever. It’s intoxicating and perfect all at once. To feel so satisfied and unsatisfied at the same time, both of your hands scramble for purchase on each other’s bodies.

His arm hooks around your waist pulling you carelessly close, his other hand tangling in your hair while yours grip at his royal coat, clawing at the material. You feel it as he deepens the kiss, feel the ice around your heart melting and seven hells it feels so good. Feels good to be held and kissed and caressed by a man.

His lips suck on your own, his mouth hot and unforgiving as he continues to kiss you until your head is swirling and you know your cunt is soaked. If this is what just a kiss can do you’d love to see what else he can achieve.

“My Prince, my lady. A Lord Grytion to see you.” The words from Ser Ren have you pulling apart panting, breathing each other’s air. Even when the Lord comes onto the balcony with you Techno doesn’t let you go, doesn’t tear his eyes away from your face even when you blink up at the man you think you recognise.

He bows before he begins to speak, “My Prince, Lady Draygon, I’ve simply come to give you my best wishes on your marriage. I hope you two are very happy together.”

Even as the man speaks Techno doesn’t look away, his large hand coming up to stroke his thumb against your cheek, “You can tell my mother that if she wishes to spy on me and my betrothed then she should send someone I don’t know is her spy.” Techno grunts red eyes darting all around your face even though you’re looking at the man who clears his throat bows and leave without another word.

“Where were we?” He grins, it’s cheeky and cocky but it makes you giggle and lean back into his eyes warm embrace, lips slotting against his once more. He can’t stop the groan that escapes him at finally feeling you against him, so pretty and all for him.

-

Another week passed by and you find yourself in the gardens once more, Techno being the one who led you here this time. You are pleasantly surprised by what the Prince is wearing today, his toned and large body graced with black. Your colours, Fell colours. If you didn’t know any better you would call him Lord Draygon.

“What is that?” You ask gesturing to whatever he was holding on a red velvet pillow, it was an odd shape and covered with a yellow cloth.

“It’s a gift.” He smiled sitting beside you under the gazebo, wood being entwined and tangled with vines and flowers. You frown your gaze flickering to his face then back to the object, he chuckles pulling the yellow sheet away. What’s underneath makes your mouth open, breath picking up at the pure beauty.

A rose standing on it’s own underneath a glass dome.

“It’s gorgeous.” You smile, fingers itching to touch it.

“It’s yours my lady.” He hands the pillow to you letting you take it from him, but it’s so fragile you feel scared to hold it making you place it on the table in front of you.

“I also have some news.” He grimaces when your happy eyes turn cold and stick to him like glue.

“What news?” You ask, an eyebrow raising when he stands walking towards the stone balcony, one that overlooks the large ocean surrounding Rinesdale.

“We will be wed next week, my father just informed me.” He speaks so softly watching your reaction cautiously. Honestly your feelings are conflicted, you are really starting to feel something for Techno but you’re not sure that you want to be married. Not like you have a say in the matter however.

“Alright.” You smile but it’s a little forced as you push yourself from your chair and move next to him. Techno picks up on it instantly, his fingers coming up to push hair behind your ear and cup your cheek. Your eyes meeting his rubies.

“I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make you feel loved, cherished and wanted. I will protect you and put you and any children we may have first in every decision I make. I will be yours just as you will be mine. No other woman will ever so much as kiss me. No one but you my lady, my love, my future Queen.” His sincerity shone in his eyes, it made the last little bit of ice melt away but you tried to grip onto it as hard as you could for the continued feeling of safety.

“I Thankyou for the promises you are making to me my lor- Techno. And I in no way want to seem rude or harsh to you but I can only believe your promises when I see that they are upheld.” You speak slowly and carefully as not to upset him.

“I understand, you don’t have to believe me now. I will spend the rest of our days proving it to you my sweet sweet girl.” His last words are whispered against the skin of your cheek before he pressed his lips to yours. They capture all of your happy sighs and moans before moving down to caress your neck.

“Techno.” You gasp so softly and he swears it’s the most precious thing he’s ever heard. He wants to devote all his time to making you gasp his name again just like that. His teeth rake over the tender spot where your neck and shoulders meet and you can’t stop your knees from buckling thank the gods for Techno holding you up.

It’s at that moment when he feels your body give in so he’s the only thing supporting you, when he hears you moan so fucking sexily, that’s when he knows he’s going to ruin you for any other man. He wants to be the only man in the entire world who can satisfy your needs. You will never even be able to think about going to anyone else, because of him.

But all good things and thoughts must come to an end, “My lady, your Father has just arrived.” Ser Ren calls to you and Techno feels your body become tense. He pulls back from your neck to stare into your eyes.

“Everything alright my lady?” He asks frowning a little.

“Yes, I just haven’t seen my father in a while and as much as I can handle him, I never know what mood he’s going to be in.” You laughed making him laugh too.

Techno escorts you to the front of the Gold Keep where your Father greets you with a smile after greeting the royal family. “I’ll catch up with you later my darling daughter.” He says before he and the king walk away together. They’d been friends for many years.

The Queen leaves the front with her daughters not looking best pleased, this was going to be an entertaining week that was for sure.

The feast that was held that night was glorious but once again it was too many people, too much wine and food and noise and the king flirting. “Want to leave?” Techno grumbles in your ear his golden cloak making him look so handsome.

“Gods yes please.” You groan missing the way his eyes light up when he takes your hand and leads you away from all the noise. The lanterns are lit creating the perfect ambiance for another leisurely stroll arm in arm except this one you’re a little buzzed from the tonight’s fruity wine.

“Techno.” Your voice is a little lighter but you’re fully aware of everything going on around you especially when he turns to you.

“Yes my love?” The new term of endearment has your cheeks heating up and your thighs quivering.

“Will you do something for me?” You ask just as you turn round a corner that’s a little darker than all the rest.

“Anything.” He replies not expecting you to grip onto his gold and red patterned cloak and pull him against you, your back pressed against the cold stone castle wall. Out of the corner of your eye you see Ser Ren with his back to you both on the look out for if someone comes by.

“Kiss me.” It’s not a request anymore, it’s a demand from lover to lover, from wife to husband, from Queen to King.

It brings a grin to his face, the Prince flashing his pearly whites before he brings your body against his kissing you passionately. Your thoughts were a mess as both of his hands grip onto your hips making sure they’re flush against his, he wants you to feel how much he wants you not that you can through your dress.

“Touch me.” You surprise yourself as well as Techno when you say those words, you conclude that you maybe have said them a little too loud due to the quick creak of metal armour.

“My lady I don’t think, we shouldn’t until we’re married.” Techno tries his hardest to grasp onto what’s left of his self control but one look in your needy eyes and he’s done.

Techno leans in leaving open mouthed kisses down your neck and your breathing starts to pick up, your hands gripping his cloak for an anchor while you moan. A hand that’s slow and hesitant hikes up the skirt of your dress gently and makes its way in between your legs, thick knuckles glide through your wet folds rubbing over the small nub.

The ambience and desire making everything heightened. His touch felt hotter. His kisses softer. His hold tighter. You felt as though you were going to burst from the passion. Basic primal instinct taking over, causing you to ignore the fact you were in a dark corner of the Gold Keep with your guard just meters away from you. You wanted him.

And that’s all that mattered. Moans slipped from your mouth, to which he covered it with his free hand. You pressed your head back against the wall as he slipped his fingers inside you, pumping slow and careful his rubies staring down at you with nothing but pure hunger.

“That’s it, just take it my Queen.” He groans, only loud enough for you to hear with his lips pressed against the shell of your ear while he continues to ruin you with his fingers. It’s the first time a man has ever touched you like this and fuck it feels so good. So good you sob against his hand hips bucking for him to faster and he does.

His fingers move quicker and skilfully, a question tugging in the back of your mind that you push away for now. Right now you’re feeling too much to think, your body burning with need for the orgasm to wash over you.

“Your Grace there are people coming this way, I suggest you hurry up or stop your little transgression.” Ser Ren says making your eyes fling open, you’d forgotten he was there. And for some reason his words make you clench around Techno’s fingers that curl in a come here motion until your eyes roll back and your cumming all over them.

“Come back to me sweet thing, there you go.” Techno coos softly until your eyes flutter open, blinking up at him, watching him remove his fingers from you only to put them against his lips, sinfully licking them clean with a groan at how you tasted. “Our wedding night will certainly be a night to remember my beautiful woman.”

-

And as if you and time couldn’t wait any longer your wedding day was here, the bells ringing signally to all those in Rinesdale that today would be the day the Prince gets married.

“Don’t be nervous my lady, the Prince is half in love with you already.” Your handmaiden comments receiving a frown from you from where you stood on a little podium. She being knelt by your feet straightening your hem.

“I’m not nervous. A Lady of Draygon doesn’t get nervous.” You snap making her nod quickly as she got up to tighten your corset. It was probably the tightest it has ever been in your entire life, making your waist singe and your hips puff out. She brought the last layer of the dress, helping you slip it on over your under dress. It was a gorgeous dark white, you could even compare it to a light grey or silver.

She helped you clip your long veil into your half braided hair, the other parts of it falling down your body in curls. Your gaze never left the mirror you stood in front of, you felt truly like a royal, truly like the princess you’ll become.

-

“Your mother would have loved to be here.” Your father says with a sad smile his hands cupping your cheeks as you wait outside the large doors that lead inside the Gold Keep.

“I miss her.” You blink away the tears that threaten to ruin your happiness.

“I do too.” He mutters kissing your cheek, it’s then that the big doors open and the music begins to play. Your father links your arm with his and soon you’re walking your way down the steps and down the isle.

You notice your brother and his wife who looks swollen with his child and give them a nod. The Queen is glaring at you, but you suppose that it’s understandable, next week Techno and you are supposed to be pronounced King and Queen. The idea makes you nervous but not as nervous as you feel when you finally look up at your husband to be.

His beautiful long hair braided all southern like, his brown breeches, a beautiful gold and black over coat that was graced with a cloak. His red eyes were sparkling with want as they gazed over you, a smile pulling at his lips.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.” The priest says making Techno un attach his cloak and cover your shoulders with it before taking your hand in his.

“Your Grace, Your Grace, my lords, my ladies, we stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife.” The priest speaks loud and his voice booms while he ties the ribbon of one around your hands that are holding one another.

“Let it be known that The Lady of the house Draygon and The Lord of the house Blade are one heart, one flesh, one soul, cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” Techno announces letting all in the crowd know before his lips land on yours, taking them for himself. It’s quick and chaste especially compared to the other night but enough to stir up the gentle claps of congratulations.

It was truly a grand celebration, nobles and royals from all over came to celebrate and feast. The Gold Keep was loud with happiness coursing through it, nothing compared to what you were feeling.

“Are you happy my love?” Techno asks the back of his knuckles caressing your heated cheeks.

“Yes, I actually am.” You smile brightly at him and in turn he smiles back just as happy.

“Time for the bedding ceremony!” The drunk king shouted a whore on his arm as he did so, “men help the new princess remove-“

“Enough!” Techno’s deep voice is the loudest you’ve ever heard it, his knuckles turning white while he glared at his father, from where he’s stood up next to you. “There will be no bedding ceremony.” Techno grunts into the silence not even looking around to see all the shocked people at his outburst.

No, instead his eyes land on you sitting in your chair next to him. He extends his hand for you and immediately you take it letting him guide you out of your chair. What he does next is definitely the surprise, Techno takes you in his arms holding you bridal style as he carries you out of the throne room.

You glance over his shoulder your eyes temporarily taking in Ser Ren in all his black metallic glory before they look ahead seeing your destination. Techno’s room. Now your room.

He kicks open the door and carries you across the threshold dropping you onto the bed making you giggle. “Keep the halls clear my good ser.” Techno says to Ser Ren with a smirk before closing the door and latching it to lock it.

It’s quick and hurried but your husband helps you with your dress, pulling at the strings of the corset and pushing at the layers until there’s nothing left. Not a single stitch on you.

Techno’s hands slide up your body cupping your breasts, his thumbs tweaking and rubbing your nipples. You whimper loving the feeling of his hands on you, it’s new and it’s euphoric. Just to be touched, showered with pure want and love. You only have to blink before you’re on your four poster bed splayed out for the hungry prince in front of you.

Soon enough he’s ridding himself of his clothes, letting you admire his striking body. His arm muscles rippling as he grips the top of the bed frame leaning forward towering over you. Your new husband sliding down to his knees before he pulls you to the end of the bed.

He grunts his thick long index finger taps on your clit, your hips jerking when he does, sensitive with need.

His head lulls to the side, his cheek smushing against the inside of your thigh “You’re absolutely gorgeous wife.” He sighs, the tip of his finger spelling out his name on your bundle of nerves. His piercing eyes meet yours and your breath gets caught in your throat, the lust swirling in his dark eyes is so enticing.

A silent ‘fuck yes’ paints itself on his face, his brow furrowed in pure amazement at the sight of your glistening pussy.

Your clit pulses erratically anticipating his next move. It’s quick and it makes you jump but then you’re whining into the air, because how can you not when he’s sucking you into his mouth like a starved man. Your body burns with pleasure but it’s oh so delicious his tongue working wonders on your cunt.

“Please Tec-“ he pulls off you with a soft pop stopping your begging. His lips smack together as his eyes leave yours once more, the pad of his thumb sliding through your folds. He grunts leaning forward pressing his nose against you with a sharp inhale.

Techno looks up his crimson eyes finding yours at the exact moment his mouth latches onto you once more. It feels so good it hurts, the heat from his mouth has you twisting and squirming.

You sob, your body starting to shake when he pushes two ring adorned fingers inside you, the cold metal making you gasp. They rub along your velvety walls bringing a new wave of pleasure, the feeling builds becoming more intense with every thrust.

His tongue laps at your clit while he searches and searches until you squeal “There it is”, he finds exactly what he was looking for striking the spot over and over again watching your back arch off the bed. Curses slipping out when you gush all over his hand just like he knew you would.

You excepted him to move away, to release you from his torturous mouth but he doesn’t. The Prince stays, the tip of his tongue flicking against you, the sensitivity pulling whines and whimpers from you.

You think it was three, no four definitely four orgasms heck you lost count after the first. Your body tired but fuck do you need his cock more then anything. You lay on your side gripping the sheets so tightly as Techno slides in behind you, his arms pulling you taut against him and you mewl.

“I know sweet girl I know you just have to let me in is all, nothing more.” He strokes your hair moving it out the way so he can press his cheek to yours, it’s so intimate and sweet. And yet when he lifts up your left leg, bending it at the knee so he can slip his ridged veiny shaft inside your tight cunt. You feel the sweet sweet burn of the orgasmic stretch that is so new but so good.

You just about manage to make out your wedding gown discarded on the floor before your vision blurs and tears streak down your cheeks meeting the dried ones that had already fallen earlier with your over sensitivity. He feels so fucking good, with each thrust you’re pushed closer to the edge.

Your moans and his mixing together in the late evening air, his pace building dramatically, becoming more and more intense the longer he fucks you. It’s brutish, rough and bare. Yet loving and gentle at the same time. “I will love you til the last petal falls, sweet girl.” He groans thrusting in and out of you so fucking delicately it has you crying. “And that rose will never wilt.” He hums in your ear kissing your cheek.

“Yes right there don’t stop!” You don’t care how loud you’re being, you don’t care who hears you, especially not when his swollen tip glides over the spot inside you, your body goes still and you can’t do anything except let it happen.

And you do, you let the tsunami of pleasure crash into you almost painfully, it pumps through your viens absolutely demolishing what’s left of your energy. You’re barely awake when warmth blooms inside you a deep groan rumbling against your cheek, the rose beside your bed in the glass dome long forgotten.

A kiss to the top of your head and you’re out like a light unaware of the large hand rubbing at your tummy, the sky completely dark now, unaware of the thoughts bubbling in Techno’s head as he watches your chest slowly rise and fall. It lulls him to sleep, pulls him into a world that is entirely his own.

Neither of you aware of the red tint the moon was starting to have.

@victory-is-here

@simply-vulpecula

@lillianastuff

@megnotfound

@vanivivs

@itsberrydreemurstuff

@cherryblossomdelusion

@dreamwvrld

@fionamk1001

@cookiezxx

@angelicadiabolus

#squishycheekanon #squishycheekanonanswer #asks are appreciated #beefy!techno #dreamsmp x reader #dreamsmp members #mcyt fanfiction #techno x reader #technoblade x reader #mcyt x reader #squishtalks #techno smut #squishysneekpeaks #techno fluff #technoblade x reader smut #squishyreblogs #techno x reader smut #technoblade x reader fluff #technoblade imagine

[multi-fan-dom-madness]

Hi!

For the prompt requests...I'm thinking "I'm sorry, I had to" with Hound maybe 👀 or Cody as an alternative ❤️

hello roz my dear. thank you for this prompt!! I wanted desperately to write for Hound for this, but Cody came in and said "nope, this one's mine" so here we are. hope you enjoy!

First Kiss - Cody

Summary: You're injured. Cody can't risk losing you without telling you how he feels.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, confessions

Word Count: 1k

dividers by: me, @saradika, and @dystopicjumpsuit in that order <3

As a starship technician, you don’t often travel to the frontlines. You support your boys in yellow from the Negotiator, repairing the clones’ gunships, the Jedis’ hyperdrive rings, and other engineering tasks that sometimes fall through the cracks. While you’d technically been combat trained when you enlisted with the GAR, that had been ages ago. You’ve never had a need to brush up on your skills. In effect, the GAR viewed you as a civilian engineer, not as a soldier, and so didn’t feel the need to press your training. 

Maybe they should have. 

Because while you don’t go to the frontlines, today the frontline has come to you. 

Explosions rock the Negotiator. Tremors rumble up through the durasteel floor into your body, already panicked as it is, as you pelt full-tilt down a side corridor. Your blaster is clutched in sweaty palms. You need to reach the hangar bay. You’ve been working on some modifications to the gunships to make them quieter, stealthier, more efficient—if that data is destroyed or, even worse, stolen, several months of your work goes down the drain. You may even be fired if the Separatists use the data against the clone army.

But in reality, that’s not what you’re worried about. No, you’re worried about Cody. You know him; he’s out there at the front right now, leading his men by example. It’s part of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He cares for his men—and in the end, that depth of emotion may be his downfall. Kark, you should have told him how you feel. 

You sprint past dozens of troopers running in the opposite direction. As you near the hangar, one of the men stops you, yanking you to a halt. 

“Hangar’s compromised!” he shouts over the blaring klaxon. “Come with us! Commander’s orders!” 

That gives you pause. Meeting the helmeted gaze of the trooper with wide eyes, you flounder for a moment. Another explosion shakes the ship. You stumble, the trooper’s grasp the only thing keeping you upright.

“Where’s the Commander?” you shout. 

His hesitation tells you all you need to know. Pulling yourself out of the trooper’s grip, you continue on your mad dash to the hangar, its state of damage be damned. Thankfully, none of the rest of the men stop you, and at last, you reach the hangar entrance. 

The entire space is engulfed in an inferno. Heat snarls at you as the door opens, before the metal screeches to a halt halfway, jammed. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you step over the threshold. 

You practically live in this hangar. You know exactly where your workstation is, how to get to it, where everything is within your toolbox. This is a space you could walk through in your sleep—yet as you squint against the sting of smoke and dodge flames that seem to leap at you, panic begins to build in your chest in earnest. Because Cody is somewhere in all this carnage, too. You can’t save both your work and your commander. 

You couldn’t live with yourself if you let him die. 

Your lungs scream for air. With a terrified whimper, you gulp in a deep lungful. Immediately you begin to cough, the smoke burning into your body. Turning in a circle, you attempt to squint through the smoke. The heat grows by the minute and becomes increasingly oppressive. Your knees feel weak. But still you stagger forward. Blind and lost, you cry with a cracked voice for Cody. 

You trip. Knees crack against the floor. Hacking, you peer through the smoke with watering eyes. Is that a person coming toward you? 

As your vision goes dark, the last thing you see is a pair of hands reaching for you and a familiar golden visor.

When you wake, you’re in the medbay. You can tell before you even open your eyes, just based on the sterile scent of antiseptic tickling your nose, and the hushed, rhythmic beeping of several medical devices. 

Eyes fluttering open, you squint against the bright white light reflecting off equally bright white walls. It hurts to breathe, but as you take silent stock of your body, nothing seems dangerously injured. No casts, no splints. Just a few bandages over what you assume are burns.

“Cyare,” a familiar voice says, full of relief. 

You turn and meet Cody’s eyes. He looks like shit. Dark circles under his eyes, a long-dried bloody split in his lip, soot and ash coating his normally pristine armor. He sits next to you on a small stool, his elbows resting on his knees, one of his feet bouncing incessantly. But his worried expression melts into something calmer, softer as he takes in your conscious form.

He half-stands, brushing his fingers over your forehead gently, and then leans down. Though logically you know what’s about to happen it’s still a surprise when his lips meet yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You press your face up to his, meeting him, and you both hold there for a moment before he pulls away with a shuddering breath. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, hand sliding down to grasp yours, “I had to. You scared me.” 

“M’sorry,” you mumble, mind hazy with his kiss. Your tongue is thick and dry. Nearby, one of the medical devices jumps in its rhythm, the beeps coming faster. 

He lowers back onto the stool. “What were you thinking?” 

Grimacing, you drop your gaze. “It’s stupid.” 

“Tell me,” he says, voice soft and kind. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit in a whisper. 

His amber eyes widen in surprise. “Cyare.” 

“Told you it’s dumb.”

Shaking his head, he huffs an incredulous chuckle. He inhales deeply, runs a hand through his dirty hair, and fixes you with a look so fond that your heart squeezes.

“I love you, you know,” he says. 

The medical device goes crazy now, matching the way your heart stutters in your chest. “I- I love you, too.” 

The smile he gives you makes all the pain, all the panic, worth it. 

Liste de Ragu: @the-hexfiles @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @thorsterstrudle @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @dreamie411 @bobaprint @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#commander cody x reader #cody x reader #the clone wars #tcw cody x reader #rhiplies #rhiwrites #first kiss prompts

[artistsfuneral]

part 18

"What really happened to me?" Geralt asks, his voice so deliberately neutral it makes Jaskier sick. Black dots dance across his field of vision. It's getting harder to breathe.

"You asked me to do it. And I didn't want to, of course I didn't want to,” he gasps, “but you told me you'd be fine- You promised- Geralt, you promi-” Jaskier's head falls to the side and hits the ground.

You see, the bard muses, the funny thing about time traveling is that it is very similar to passing out. Jumping through time is as easy as falling unconscious – you don't really have to think about it to do so and the more often it happens the better you get at not hitting your head. The catch though – because even if you're not literally caught there's always a catch, isn't it – is that no matter how many times it happens to you, waking up is always incredibly disorienting. So Jaskier can't really be blamed when he wakes up with his head in Geralt's lap and for a moment thinks that everything is alright again, that they're on the Path, camping somewhere out in the woods waiting for Ciri to join them.

Reality has never been that forgiving, so when the familiar wooziness leaves him it takes Jaskier's wishes and dreams with it. He gratefully accepts the waterskin that Geralt hands him after helping him sit up again and drains it in one go, before solemnly apologizing for passing out on the witcher mid conversation. Geralt doesn't say much at first, but Jaskier can see that there's a lot on the witcher's mind.

The silence between them is uncomfortably heavy and Jaskier can't stand it. Just as he's about to open his mouth Geralt finds his voice again. “It was blood magic.”

Their eyes meet. Geralt's golden orbs dark, almost angry and Jaskier's blue full of surprise. He remembered more. “It was a trap,” Jaskier fills the space in Geralt's thoughts. “The sorcerer was already dead, but Ciri wanted us to look for an artifact she needed. We- We thought it was safe. Good riddance, the place was already dusted over!”

“It made us careless,” Geralt adds, looking lost in his thoughts.

“It was my fault,” Jaskier says, full of anger. “I activated the curse, because I wasn't paying attention, but you-” His eyes met Geralt's again and he shook of anger and despair. “You told me not to worry! You told me you knew what you were doing, that I just had to trust you! And I did, I bloody fucking did because the walls were caving in around us and I was so fucking scared we wouldn't make it this time and I thought I would be fine with it, I thought if I died by your side it would be alright, but I just couldn't stop thinking about Ciri, about Yennefer, about your brothers, our family waiting for us to come home just to be frightened more and more every day we didn't show and I-” He gasps, ringing for breath as his body continues to shake uncontrollably.

“I stabbed you, Geralt. I put a knife through your chest, because you promised me it'd be fine. And I believed you, because you are the love of my life and I trust you to keep us safe.”

remember to like and reblog if you voted :)

Only two more parts 👀

Sooooo for the next story I was thinking you will have to navigate Jaskier through the wilderness to find Kaer Morhen? Eat the berries, Jaskier, it will be fiiiine, Jaskier. (possibly with someone in tow? Ciri, or Aiden? Or maybe a witcher turned into a child? 🤔🤔)

tell me if you (don't) want to be tagged :)

(x) @fingons-rad-harp @sinfulpetgirlrd @wren-of-the-woods @basilikum7 @eveljerome @this-is-not-a-slow-burn @araglas1989 @alaskawho @cinary @swan--writes @mirrorthoughts @chaoticfandomthot @sonatabee @gregre369 @awitcheress @yaskefer @hannibard @myfeelisfunny @kore888 @filledepluie @pathsofpassion @joyfulcherryblossombasement @ryuuhana91 @toapoet @nerdymuffinbonkcloud @ineffably-a-fangirl-99 @starlghtstarbrite @siriusly-the-best-bi @cowboybuttconnoisseur @logastellus21 @chasinggeese @whump-der-it-is @inanoldhousewrites @reluctantbroodingdads @professorjaskier @ourbooksuniverse @life-as-a-gamergirl

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier the bard

[lilianade-comics]

Soooooo your Cheese Melt/Kindred Spirits AU 👀

Since Dani figures out what Vlad’s original plan for her was, (which is what I presume she found down in the lab in that first fake screenshot. Rip XD), how do they end up getting close again? Obviously Vlad saves her life, but like, after that lol. Is it just a matter of Vlad routinely proving that he actually cares over the course of a while that does it? Something more dramatic?? A bit of both???

Also feel free to drop the deets on those episode rewrites you’ve got knocking around your brain, especially Living Large, because I’d love to see how that episode plays out in this AU <3

Essentially, yeah! It's just Vlad continually being really extra as a parent and making decent choices in regards to Dani. (He's selfishly selfless: He values his own happiness the most, but it just so happens that he's thoroughly convinced that Dani's happiness is what makes HIM happy. Leave it to him to twist everything to his own benefit, right?)

Dani is giving him another chance because ultimately, he did save her life and is clearly trying to make up for what was a truly horrible plan (that he actually abandoned pretty much the day after she was born. He may have convinced himself that he was just delaying the plan, but in reality the moment he decided "not today" was the moment he unknowingly doomed himself lol. It just took him a while to actually ACKNOWLEDGE that his priorities changed. He had no intention of letting Danielle die by the time she discovered the truth). Ultimately Dani wants what every child wants: a good parent. And Vlad, well. He's Vlad. But when he wants something, he throws everything into getting it. So Dani no longer believes Vlad is good like she used to, but she does still believe that he loves her.

As for this AU's version of Livin' Large, I'll drop a few details below the cut!

-The Fentons move next door to Vlad and Dani. Dani seems happy about this, Vlad is less so.

-In the original episode, Danny refuses to investigate what the Guys In White want with his family's portal, so this prompts Sam and Tucker to ask Dani for help instead.

-They get caught, as in canon, but Dani pings as critically ectocontaminated and is swiftly loaded up to be shipped off elsewhere. This coincides directly with Danny flying by after his little "maybe i should do something, actually" moment and he immediately swoops in to save her. Unfortunately, the GIW nab him too.

-hilarious hijinks ensue as Danny and Dani try various methods to escape confinement. None of them work.

-Ultimately, it's a deeply annoyed Vlad in a white suit and sunglasses who rolls up to the facility to collect his daughter. ("....What the heck are you wearing?" Danny asks with extreme derision. "It's called a disguise, Daniel, and it's the reason I haven't also been locked in a cage. Unlike you, I might add." Vlad fires back smugly. "You should see his other ones," Dani pipes up, prompting one to wonder just how many times Vlad has impersonated government agents before.)

-Vlad unceremoniously tazes an agent who asked for his ID on the way out.

-Dani turns her big Bambi eyes on Vlad to see if he'll help them save the Ghost Zone from certain destruction. Danny is like "No, that's okay, I think we're good." Vlad gives him a look and flippantly asks if they REALLY think the GIW are smart enough to destroy the Ghost Zone. Dani's like "they're idiots with a giant missile, they're gonna destroy SOMETHING, Dad."

-does this turn into reluctant halfa trio team up? yeah maybe, sue me.

#danny phantom #cheese melt #asks #vlad masters #dani phantom #danielle phantom

[silverskye13]

9 and 23 for the ask game?👀

9. How do you worldbuild?

Come up with an idea -> ask a lot of questions about it. Eventually you answer enough questions, that the answers grow legs and start running.

An example from one of my OCs because I never talk about those guys.

Idea: A paladin trapped in the service of a cruel god, who is still able to talk to and keep friends outside of their order.

How is the paladin trapped in service? A god can call anyone, but asumedly, anyone called can say no. And an evil god would probably be routed out of any Good pantheons. So how does a cruel or evil god get around that? Maybe the god has a usefulness that aligns with good, the objection is just in how they do that good?

Maybe the god is a god of sacrifice, and they help mortals with some things in exchange for service. In which case someone could be trapped into serving that god, but they're working ultimately for the greater good, so they don't immediately try to break free of it? Maybe serving the god is a rare ask, so people often take the risk.

This god then, is probably a god that preys on people in need. They have churches that pop up in areas torn by war, or disaster. They follow in the wake of plagues and disease, healing the sick, mending the wounded, housing the destitute. Most people are asked to repay the kindness with tithe or community service, but sometimes they are asks to repay the kindness with a child. That child then joins the god's service as a priest or a paladin.

What would a god like that ask in exchange for use of its power and magics? Given it's a god of sacrifice and exchange, and is inherently cruel in nature, maybe it asks for a meaningful offering? Something with emotional attachment? Maybe then, all of these paladins are given animals to take care of, plants to tend, life to grow, knowing that to do increasingly powerful miracles, they must suffer the loss of these things. At any point their god can demand something, and they must give it. Healing the wounded in the wake of a battle might be a smaller sacrifice, because a price will eventually be asked of those in need of the help. But calling forth power to aid yourself -- like, say, bringing back a friend from the brink of death -- might require killing a pet you've loved for several years, or sacrificing a part of your own body.

Now I've made a god whose temples are probably full of beasts and birds, and beautiful gardens. Decorated with gold and silver and artistry taken as payment from people saved, tended to by maimed priests and paladins, all of them steeped in the melancholic knowledge that, at any moment, know their god is cruel enough to ask the most precious things from them. But how can they refuse? If they don't give, if the god doesn't take, the world falls to ruin.

And now that I have a compelling god for my character to serve, and a reason for that character to serve that god, now I get to ask the character how they feel about serving that god -- and now I can build the character.

And that's how I worldbuild... everything.

The important thing about the questioning process is knowing that, just because it makes sense, doesn't mean it has to be rooted in reality, or have tons and tons of to-the-date history to be believable. It just has to have a logical progression.

23.What work of yours would you like to have the biggest impact on the fandom?

Oh huh. Hmm. Redstone and Skulk, probably. I would love to see more people come up with helsmets and the reasons for why they exist, what mirrors belong to who and why. In my mind, hels is so full of people, and I want to see people other than me filling it. I've kicked around making a helsmet oc expressly to encourage that [and also because it sounds fun], but I don't really have the time right now, and I don't even know what my mirror would even be so [shrug].

#mcyt ask game #answering asks #rainisheretovibe #welcome back to my inbox rain #seeing you in my asks always makes me smile

[i-am-megalodonna]

Hi i just discovered your borrowed time au and im very 👀👀👀 abt it rn, and i wanted to know if its possible that after lila discovers hes alive, would dexter tell her who he is? And would he try and get lila to help him get his body back? (Since yknow shes an adult that can actually understand his situation)

And with sm6 out, hows the situation with his mother?

That's actually something I've thought about quite a bit! And written about! The first part, anyway. I'll get to the second part.

You're right on the money about post-SM5. Lila finds out Dexter's in the doll, and they have a good chat about it in the middle of the night because it's hard to sleep when you've just had to save yourself and your kid from a cannibalistic serial killer. Lila's really freaked out at first because hello, creepy, but it's also very hard to not empathize with the guy. Dexter definitely sees the potential advantage in having an adult on his side, but where he's at in the story he's mostly just happy to have someone he can actually talk to about things. I don't really know what their plan it, but Lila and Dexter do start to work together to get Dexter's body back, because Lila would really rather not have a possessed doll around her kid for any longer than necessary.

I watched the newest installment just a few days ago and I'm still kinda processing it, tbh. It was a lot. There's definitely a connection to be made between Dexter and Moloch. It's in there somewhere, I just gotta drag it out. What's tripping me up a little is the fact that we don't actually see what ultimately happened to Dexter's body. Once Moloch moves to Patty, it's just kinda gone for the rest of the episode. But maybe it doesn't really matter -- in addition to the Moloch infestation he's also been cut open a whole bunch, so it's pretty likely his body just straight up isn't viable anymore, which would make for some very heavy scenes (in line with the tone of the episode lol). Barring future developments, I might have this be the episode where Dexter's faced with the reality that he probably isn't ever getting his body back.

As for his relationship with his own mom, I'm not really sure. I think at most he'd see her, but not have the guts to actually talk to her.

#borrowed time au #spooky month #dexter erotoph #megalodonspeaks

[artist-issues]

Have you heard "Next Semester" by twenty one pilots yet? I feel like you'd love it.

I don't know if I've ever talked about me and Twenty One Pilots here. I gave my life to Christ in the summer of 2011 and heard a song by Tyler Joseph for the first time the same week. I didn't connect that the passionately screaming singer who made me think about how I couldn't force my emotions to line up with the reality of God, and needed Jesus to do that for me--I didn't connect that that singer was the same guy in the popular emo band until they became popular around 2015. And then I was thrilled. Because around that time I was fighting to submit my own dark thoughts to God, instead of identifying with them, so it really helped that the voice I already knew pretty well was singing those thought-provoking tracks that have made them famous. Then a year later I figured out what I wanted to do with my career, and how that connected back to God, and the first seeds of my whole understanding of storytelling and God as the Storyteller were planted--largely because of a song called "The Producer" which Tyler Joseph helped to write with Travis Whittaker.

So suffice to say, when the band that's been playing the background music of my life's biggest steps in faith makes anything new, you can be pretty sure I'm over here like 👀

I love Next Semester. It's hard, because with Twenty One Pilots, I notice my own commitment to truth and intended meaning and critical thinking at its strongest and its weakest at the same time 😅 Strongest, because you can tell he's so intentional with his lyrics and metaphors, and is communicating some things that he means so well—but weakest, because I'm constantly hoping that he's talking more about Christ and Biblical truth than he probably is. I'm always waffling between fear that Tyler Joseph is deconstructing, resentment that someone so blessed with creativity & hard work-ethic can refuse to come out and talk about the faith that saved him clearly, and...sometimes agreeing with him? Sometimes feeling like, he has a point, the way he creates and is careful to make his audience think for themselves can only lead back to Truth, which is Christ, if they're being as genuine as he is in the emotional content of the songs, and having them think for themselves makes them drop their guards and walk toward truth without "turning them off" by using culturally-Christian phrases—

ANYWAY. You didn't ask about any of that 😅 But the principals of what Twenty One Pilots does, (in terms of the art of communication and what that communication should be for) and why they do it, and what the right and wrong way to do it is, are something my brain is revolving all the time.

It's not really a good thing to keep revolving it, because at some point it's me trying to think exactly right about the whole topic, as if I can control what they do, or the outcome of what I create, if I just get it right. And that's not faith. At some point I have to quit trying so hard to think and do based on my own control! Welcome to you asking a simple question and me word vomiting/getting all preachy. (But lowkey I respect you and think you might appreciate what I'm rambling about, if anyone can. So maybe unluckily for you, you're probably the only person who could've asked me about this on here and gotten this kind of response 😅)

ANYWAY! Next Semester! I love that it's simple so that the emotion of it comes through. There's not metaphor-on-metaphor layering, so you're just left to hang on to his desperate vocals and the gut-check words of the song. I don't listen to it over and over like I do Overcompensate because it takes me to kind of a dark place—but I do love that it ends hopefully. Super hopefully. I started that paragraph above, talking about how twenty one pilots affects my critical thinking, to say this: I'm always having to be careful not to read too much of what I want to hear into the song. But that said, I do think the "person driving" in the song is representative of God. Someone outside yourself, giving you that slap of truth and hope and a fresh-start, who also could've run you down.

So I love that it ends hopefully. For a bit there, with Trench, I started to loosen my grip on them, because it felt like they would do a really good job of saying "We're broken, think about it, see how messed up we are?" And then "but we don't have to stay here," and that was really good. But...then Leave the City seems so obviously to stop at "don't stop." If that makes sense. Leave the City makes it sound like the way out of your depression, doubt, suicidal thoughts, and anxiety is just...movement. It's enough to know that you shouldn't sit in your dark thoughts (and basically sin.) But he won't say where to go instead. And I know it's because he's very genuine, and he doesn't want to say where to go instead if he doesn't know for sure that it's right, but that's not exactly reassuring.

It makes me think of the part in C.S. Lewis' The Great Divorce, where one ghost says something about how "the hopeful journey is much better than the destination." But then the redeemed person is like, "no, that makes no sense—there's no hope IN a journey if you're not moving toward a set destination. The destination is where hope comes from."

So in Leave the City I feel like he takes me by the hand and says "I know how you feel" and "eventually we'll move on from this feeling" but then leaves me at "not that I know where we're going." And it's like, okay, well then why would I ever get hope from moving on? If I don't know what I'm moving on to??

Christ. It's supposed to be Jesus Christ. You can't jump from a sinking ship into a raging ocean and think that that's better. You have to jump from a sinking ship ONTO DRY LAND. Or at least have it in sight, so you can swim in that direction.

Anyway. Next Semester is not like Leave the City, because it ends with hope. 🙃 That's all I'm trying to say. Thanks for coming to my rant.

#Twenty one pilots #Nobody asked this #asked #answered #tøp #I guess I should expect some lash-back from dedicated clikkies #but like #guys I've known Mr. Joseph since before ya'll called yourselves that #my feelings about what he says and how he says it are way too deep-rooted for you to be able to tear them up with your rage #clique #why not #music #critical thinking #Christianity #storytelling #art #next semester #Clancy

[shrinkthisviolet]

What, if anything, would drive your ocs to becoming a villain?

Oooh I love this question!

So for Morgan, I actually have a whole RF!Morgan concept floating around (see tags). Details of it are TBD, but it basically involves Morgan becoming a speedster and Eowells grooming her to be...essentially his executioner, for lack of a better word. Since this is from the start of s1, she never gets close to Barry, and Eowells systematically chips away at her friendships with Caitlin, Cisco, and Iris. Thus, by the time s1 ends, Morgan is essentially pushed out of Team Flash.

However, this isn't what pushes her to villainy. What does that would be the death of someone who grows to care about her and even puts her safety above his own goals (won't say who because spoilers, but it's someone unexpected 😂).

(The reason it wouldn't be Tina is because Eowells would likely kill her off during s1, and Morgan killing Eowells (partly in retaliation, partly to protect Team Flash when she learns the truth about him) doesn't make her a full-tilt villain yet. It just sets off a chain of events that will eventually result in her becoming one)

Now Lucy...she'd have to be turned by Luke. There's already a precedent for him using history and her ideals against her to make a point—if he were a Sith, he could do that even more. It would take a lot to wear her down, considering all she knows about the Sith...but it's Luke. He knows his sister like he knows his own mind. It would work eventually.

(Still, when it comes to Lucy, I prefer the angst of Luke turning to the Dark Side and Lucy battling her every temptation to try and save him, even if it’s in vain).

Reyna's is fun to think about because of how much it mirrors what Cisco's could be. Now ofc, she doesn't meet her evil doppelgänger like Cisco does...but maybe she does eventually come to realize that these powers she's feared all her life (an unfortunate consequence of needing to suppress her powers from an early age in a world where metas are illegal) are insanely powerful and she can control them.

So maybe she learns how to do it...and she sees other Earths. She sees all the good, all the bad...and she becomes obsessed with fixing things, making them the way they should be...especially for Nora's sake. All of it is for her loved ones, see, and especially Nora. Nora, who's the only one who could pull her back to reality...unless Reyna mentions an Earth, a timeline, a reality where Barry survives Crisis 👀

For Amelia, it would likely be her putting on the Doc Ock arms to save her adoptive father from that fate, knowing from NWH what Otto Octavius's fate is 🥺 then she's corrupted by the inhibitor. It could also result in a very angsty Amelia vs Peter fight, wherein Peter is begging his now-twin sister to remember who she is, while Amelia (who, ofc, doesn't know who Peter Parker is or that Spidey is him) attacks him.

The angst potential fr 🥰

ask my OC(s) anything!

Taglist (send an ask or DM to be added or removed):

@arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @raith-way @vexic929 @ironverseocs @thechaoticfanartist @goldheartedchaoticdisaster @negative-speedforce @dream-beyond-the-fantasy

#oc: morgan wells #rf!morgan #oc: lucy kenobi #oc: reyna ramon #oc: amelia parker #lavi’s ocs #oc ask game

[bonny-kookoo]

my gif proposition 🤞🏻👀

Jimin does not get enough love in this household and I'm not gonna have it.

---

Tags/Warnings: Royalty AU, infiltrator?Jimin, Maid!Reader, imprisonment, implied murder, arson, I blame my writing-playlist for giving me this idea

◇▪︎━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━▪︎◇

The cold floor of the prison below isn't what you'd hoped yourself to be found in tonight. But even so, there's no way you could've let them treat the poor stable boy like that just for an accident. You know Jungkook. He always puts his everything into any task he's given- he didn't deserve any punishment.

So instead, you went down the pit for him.

It's fine.

You've not been happy anyway. In this kingdom, there is no romance novel worthy love blooming, no prince that's kind, no heroes that save life's. It's the cruel reality of money and wealth placing them who own such things above the weaker, nothing else. You're not a heroine either. You're probably just stupid.

But it's okay. You've saved people prior to this - the royal advisor, a man who doesnt belong here either, for example, from being poisoned. You'd been punished for that, too, as you'd spilled his wine all over the table. There had never been a thank you or an apology directed at you - even after it was revealed that the wine had indeed been tampered with.

You know why this happens. It's because you refuse to be the king's amusement.

You've chosen this for yourself, chose faithfulness over a man long left behind in the land deep up inside the mountains where the snow never seems to melt and the horses still running freely, ready to be tamed. You can't forget him, even after all these years and even after realizing, deep down, that you'll never go home. It's alright - there's nothing you regret. "Huh." A guard says, walking back to where you sit. "Seems like the stable boy vanished. Ran off, that rat, and took one of the horses, too." The old man chuckles. "You saved him just for that?"

You don't answer. Internally, you're happy about it. Jungkook is a very able young man, taken from his mother at a young age, from far away, too, where the waves crash against the edge of the world, it seems. He will be fine on his own, away from the castle walls.

Maybe he will get to go home. See his mother and fish again with his father.

You're busy braiding the pieces of straw into something you're not sure of, when you notice smoke rolling over the ground. The blue-ish waves seem almost hypnotic in their act of curling over the floor like water that's not bound to gravity- it makes you quiet, doesn't let you call out in fear.

You don't have to. The guards are all suddenly running off, leaving every prisoner by themselves in their panic.

Standing up you can see a glimpse of the hallway far away- orange glow signaling a fire, panic now growing outside of the underground levels you're kept in. You don't want to die this slowly, painfully. You don't want to die in general.

A man walks into the prisons, a damp rag pressed to his face as he looks around, opening all the iron cages as the prisoners all flee. "What happened?!" One asks in a hurry.

"Run. Don't look back. Tell the world the king is dead." The man says, and you're almost sure you know exactly who he is.

As soon as he finds yours, your eyes widen. It is him.

Park Jimin. Royal advisor.

He says nothing when he opens the bars, just looks at you until his eyes soften, his lips curl upwards, and his arms open. You fall into them, hold him tightly, close, because that's what you haven't been allowed for so long now. "What did you do?" You ask quietly into his chest.

He feels like home.

"I gave you my word when they took you here." He tells you, before taking your hand and running out of the lower levels and through already burning hallways, until you're both in the massive courtyard, castle lit aflame.

You can't help but stop and stare.

"I told you I'd burn it all down if I had to." He explains. "I told you I'm gonna get you back and change all of this."

"The King is dead?" You ask, quietly so as a large window breaks from the heat.

"The king was never one to begin with." Jimin darkly answers, before a horse catches your attention.

The same Jimin came here with years ago. The same Jungkook had nurtured fondly the entire time. The same kind that runs with veins full of freedom through the mountains back home. The same that will take you back to your freedom now.

Back to your home, with the only hero, this story will never reveal to those who will read about this in history books one day.

But its fine.

You know that he exists.

◇▪︎━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━▪︎◇

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #park jimin imagine #jimin imagine #jimin x reader

[koskela-knights]

EEAAO Connections

More meta! We're going on another long feel trip! Having watched AW2 videos, playthroughs, read multiple wiki pages & having watched Everything Everywhere All At Once (+ insightful meta posts and video essays) I see some overlapping themes and messages 👀 General/vague spoilers for the movie & spoilers for AW2 below

CW: mentions of suicide in red

+ additional Koskela feels & thoughts casually sprinkled in <3

--

I'm going off the concept that there are countless possible loops/alternate timelines/multiple universes in AW2. EEAAO obviously deals with the latter: multiple universes where every choice you make branches off into another reality/universe.

Nihilism, breaking the cycle/spiral

One of the main messages the movie conveys is that yes, the universe may not care about us, our actions may and can be insignificant in the big scheme of things. But that doesn't mean we cannot choose love, for ourselves and others. As this post brilliantly pointed out: in the universes where the characters choose nihilism through negative actions and not care about others, they sorta ruin/worsen their own lives. But once the characters choose love and empathy for themselves and others, their lives improve for the better.

You can see similar thoughts reflected in AW2. If we go with the idea that the Shadows in the Dark Place (DP) are past Alan (they even are his 3d model) and perhaps even versions where he kills himself, haven't led Alan out of the DP or the Darkness at all. They're literally dead ends. But only once he begins accepting external help (Saga, Rose and of course Alice) is he able to advance out of the spiral. It's also his love for Alice that keeps him going after all those years.

(Which is a similar point made in this post where the post argues that it's not destruction (parallel/similar to pessimistic nihilism) that can help you break free from the spiral but ascension (//love, support from others))

Choices & love

Now, venturing more into Koskela territory (this is a Koskela love blog after all)

What I loved in the EEAAO is that some characters are aware of these multiple universes and even if not, they long for a universe that exists somewhere else. In this post it's outlined that Waymond, who's a rich successful businessman in one universe, still longs for a domestic "poorer" life with Evelyn, doing simple taxes and having a laundromat business. That's the life the main story's universe takes place in, basically. Just ughh, the idea that gets me that people will choose to be together in every possible universe, or that they'd choose one humble universe over any other version where they might be more "successful" but separate from one another.

And I feel this would apply to the Koskelas too. Those brothers are soulmates. @zephyrone01 said that if Saga could still profile Jaakko after his death, Jaakko would've probably said that he loved Ilmo and didn't regret any of it and <33

The Koskelas would love each other and die for each other but also desperately try to save each other in every loop, every iteration and alternate reality/universe. I've been thinking about what-ifs: what if one of them is aware of the loops, what if they're both aware or subconsciously know what will happen/can happen. They would try to prevent each other from dying. They would and they keep on fighting for each other but also for their town and the people that they clearly love. Ilmo and Jaakko wouldn't put all that money and energy into their various businesses if they didn't believe Watery and its people still have a chance.

@zephyrone01 and I've been discussing many such what-if scenarios. Maybe it would've been easier for them if they just packed their business, aware of how dangerous BF & Watery are, but that's not their way. Even if they know the dangers and the tragic future ahead, they are willing to fight for who they love, what they love and they'll desperately clutch onto the hope that maybe, just maybe the next loop will be different and more positive.

And maybe there's a reality where they left or gave up but other versions of them would be (subconsciously) reminded of these darker futures and realize that staying and fighting has a much better outcome, even if the stakes remain high and one or both might still die as a result. But they would still choose any of those universes where they stay and fight because they have each other and it would've been worth it anyway. Even if the pain of losing the other will be painful and unbearable, it means they loved deeply and cared dearly.

I have so many feelings about the Koskelas man 😭😭😭 I hope this post was somewhat comprehensible and cohesive.

--

So yeah, TLDR: it's corny but love, empathy and compassion are the answer in every universe. Love for yourself and the people around you. It can help you get into the light. Maybe choosing this life is enough even if you don't leave the biggest impact because there are people you care about and who care about you too. And that's all that matters, really.

#my posts #my ramblings #ilmo koskela #jaakko koskela #alan wake 2 #alan wake #alan wake 2 spoilers #TW suicide #CW Suicide mention #everything everywhere all at once parallells #meta #koskela brothers #bright falls #watery #so many feels about them #love #i just love love the koskelas so much it hurts #thinking about them a lot like <333 #ik this is kinda corny but it is genuine #i will have no ilmo = greedy bastard slander on my dash #my meta

[drottni]

LBFAD rewatch part 4

1. "I was just passing by" Sir. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"Didn't I tell you to wait home? Who told you to run around?!?" Maam. 🤣

Just a normal husband and wife conversation in life and death situations.

2. DFQC: *angry but cute little demon expressions* letttmeeeekillllsommeeethingggggyyesssssssssatlastt

XLH: *bops him on the head like a cat* back off you little fiend, no killing today

DFQC: *angry little demon muttering and grumbles*

3. DFQC casually throwing out Hellfire to kill some rando eavesdropper:

Me: That one. I want that one. HE'S MINE.

(yes I have just resorted to thinking of him as a angry but cute cat and I have adopted him)

4. LBFAD summary:

DFQC: emotions bad. XLH: no, emotions good

DFQC: emotions..bad? XLH: no. emotions good.

DFQC: emotions...goOD? XLH: yes! emotions good!

DFQC: emotions good!! XLH: *mm yeah except for me*

DFQC: EMOTIONS GOOD 🔪😠🔪

5. How was he this jealous of Changheng already?!? 😄 His reluctance to leave. His little "or what, they will think you were colluding and fornicating with a criminal?" angry retort. His expressions when she mentions Changheng being strong. 😅😅

6. DFQC threatening to rip out Shangque's scales as a punishment hurts my soul knowing his history.

7. DFQC in important discussions with Shangque:

XLH: *angry screams*

DFQC: *sigh* My terrible wife is calling. I must leave.

8. Someone make a compilation video of him saying "your life is precious to me" from beginning to end. I need to observe the way his expressions change each time. From 😠🔪 to 🥺🖤

9. XLH running to her Daqiang to tell him her happy news *hearteyes* but like....DFQC just chilling at home waiting for her?!?!? Like a good lil hubby warming tea for when his wifey gets home?!?! Mr sir DFQC do you not have important Moon Supreme business to attend to ? No I guess not.

10. I feel for Changheng. I really do. His story has all the angst too like the whole "have to pretend she is below me and I never think about her twice when in reality she is all I think about just so my menace of a brother gets off her trail" : heartbreaking. Him having to cross out her name while knowing full well how much it means to her. All super sad. It is the highest of compliments to DFQC that despite all this Changheng does not even once tug our "second lead syndrome" hearts. Not for a second are we like awww maybe she should be with him. Moon Supremacy indeed.

11. I have ....many questions about that underwater scene. First. Why does DFQC look so pained? The expression on his face when she is holding on very tight to him is veryy...troubled? upset?..hmm idk. Second. Who created the bubble around them? And if there was a bubble that meant they had air yes? Who popped the bubble? Why? Is it XLH cuz the bubble pops when she loses breath. Third. Why did DFQC hover there for sooo long before giving the most exasperated look and diving to save her. He really let her drown a bit first😆. And lastly. Who gave DFQC the right to look so graceful underwater? Sir do you have a permit? For that elegance and grace.

12. Even when going in to save her, he has such a troubled look. Idk why but it feels like he is feeling something monumental in this moment and he does not like it. I think back to Esther's comment in an interview where she says the moment underwater is when things begin to shift for them/XLH. Also, I love the way he grabs her for the second kiss. 😍 There is something just so akfidbjxoebf *screams* I cant--

13. "I have a lot on my plate right now. How can I be disturbed by her all the time?" Oohhh so you DO have Moon Supreme business to attend to. You just like to dedicate a chunk of your time to waiting around for your wifey to come home and drink tea with you. I see how it is Sir. 👀

14. DFQC gaslighting HIMSELF into thinking its okay to be concerned about the wedding 😆😆 Sure Sir.

15. The INTENSE look he gives her before drinking the poisoned wine. He KNOWS. And still drinks it. *dead* (zeher bane haan tera peejavan me puri nou" >>> "If your love is poison I will drink it completely ") im dead.

16. Him telling her "you should hand me over instead", her telling him she has lived longer because of him, his little eyebrow furrow when she says "i'll miss you TOO" not just I'll miss you. The implication that I know already you will miss me. GOD. rip my heart out why dont you. Absolute babies. ❤

17. "I didn't plan to kill him, but he's courting death" ... 💀💀🤤🤤🤤🤤

18. Not at him having a whole ass conversation with "his woman" to make sure she is okay while literally getting bombarded by all the Immortals of Shuiyuntian. Bunch of pesky flies as far as he is concerned. Also. I got goosebumps when that vocal music started playing and he appeared like an actual Devil behind her. 🥲

#cang lan jue #love between fairy and devil #xiao lanhua #dongfang qingcang #cdrama #lbfad rewatch

[gallavichfanficlibrary]

A discussion about a knee injury made me realise that I’ve never seen any ‘Ian as a Physiotherapist’ fic… 👀 which seems like a pretty decent ‘I can no longer be an EMT but I still have all this knowledge about fitness, the human body, how to deal with people, etc’ alternative… do you know of any? 🙏

Hey, thanks for the ask but we could only find one AU where Ian is a physical therapist but it's not really what you're looking for.

Here are some newer ones where he works in the medical field (but they are also not the post-canon scenario you are looking for):

The Thing About Living - In which Ian Gallagher donates a kidney just to get a date with Mickey Milkovich. That’s it, that’s how it goes. Everyone gets a happy ending.

The Horrified Nurse: Ian is a 26 year-old traveling nurse who’s tired of the same old dating routine he’s subjected himself to for what seems like a fucking millennia.

Sirens - Being an EMT during holiday season is bad enough without having a TV crew watching his every step, so Ian hates everything about his superior's new project.

Random Acts Of Reality - The aftermath of Ian losing his first patient as an EMT. Mickey is a good husband.

Think I Need Someone Who Can Handle It - Mickey is a bare-knuckle fighter. Ian is an EMT. They meet in a diner late at night.

Bandage your wounds (with salt on my tongue) - Maybe if he’d saved Mandy’s life, or Iggy’s, you’d be thankful for the first time in your own fucked-up life. But he saved Terry, and hating him is easy. Until he smiles. Until he’s soft. Until he's gentle. Until he looks at you like he gives a shit. And then you don’t hate him so much anymore.

Plus, check out the medical tag for some more in this genre.

Anyone wants to write a physiotherapy AU? 👀

#one shots #emt ian gallagher #michellemisfit #prompts