Love her. With every ounce of your being. Make sure she knows you love her and care for her. Do the small things. They’ll go a long way. Treat her like a princess. She’s the most amazing girl and deserves the best. Buy her flowers randomly, especially daisy’s, those are her favorite. Or if you really wanna make her happy dye some roses with a bunch of cool colors but make the prettiest rose purple. That’s her favorite color. She’ll smile huge and not know what to say but she’ll love it. Buy her candy and put on a movie. She loves air head bites and watermelon sour patch, she can eat the whole bag in 1 sitting. Order a pizza. She loves pepperoni and pineapple. It sounds weird but it’s actually pretty good, but be careful because she’s allergic to normal pineapple. Let her lay her head on your chest and play with your hair. Let her listen to your heart beat. It’ll calm her heart when she gets nervous. Tell her how beautiful she is, she should hear that multiple times a day because she’s the most beautiful woman in the world. If she has an anxiety attack, make sure she knows it will be okay. Be there for her the whole time. Comfort her. Hold her. Try to get her mind off of it. Play music, especially Big Jet Plane. That’s her favorite song and it’ll calm her heart beat. Take her on dates and hype her up. Tell her how gorgeous she is and how when your with her it’s like the stars align and everything is perfect. Tell her that she’s your daisy in a field full of wild dandelions. She’s a rarity. There is no one like her so make sure she knows that. Massage her feet. I know it’s random but she likes it. Kiss her feet, let her know that there is nothing about her you don’t find flawless. Everything she finds as a snaggletooth, you should love with all of your heart. Let her know you’re thinking about her at random times throughout the day. It’s cute. When you drive past daisy’s on the side of the road, be ready to stop because she loves to pick them. If she ever tells you she needs to stop picking them, don’t let her. It’s one of her favorite things to do. When she’s mad at you, kiss her. Don’t go to bed mad at each other, fix the issue, trust me it’ll be worth it in the morning. Let her paint on your back, she always wanted to do that wth me but never got the chance. I wish we did but she will love to use your body as a canvas. Let her take pictures of your eyes. Everyone’s eyes have a different story and she loves taking close ups of them. Let her wear your deodorant, especially if you wear Old Spice Fiji, she loves the way it smells. Take her to pick strawberries. Eat them all and make some cool desserts with them. She loves Nutella so make sure she has some with her strawberries. Fall asleep with your faces right next to each other. Hold her hand wherever you go. Draw circles on her body with your fingers. Whenever she is self-conscious about her body, make sure she knows she was made in the image of God. Make sure she knows how beautiful she is. Kiss her in the places she’s worried about. Kiss her everywhere. Kiss every one of her fingers and then kiss them again, she loves it. Support her. With whatever she wants to do. She’s so determined to be successful and needs a strong man behind her pushing her forward. Be a man of God in her life. Lead her closer to God because that’s the most important thing in this world. Make her feel safe. Make her feel at home. Treat her like a queen because she is a queen and she deserves the world. Love her with ever ounce of your being, I mean everything you have. You’ll never meet anyone like her ever again so don’t let any moment pass without taking it all in. Take pictures of her randomly. Fill your phone with thousands of pictures of her and then send them to her at random times telling her how beautiful she is. Don’t rush her, let her take her time. You can’t rush love. Let it come naturally. Just never give up on her. Fight for her. But promise me this. Promise me you won’t hurt her. Protect her heart and take care of her. Please. She deserves the world.
[Vox Machina] made their (…) way to the central palace in the Cloudtop District of Emon. The Briarwoods arrived, a feast was put out, however Percy went in under an illusion to look like Vax, while Vax went invisible. Everyone had formal attire on, weapons left at the door, unarmored, dressed for the occasion. During the feast, conversations were had, questions were raised, and information was extracted. Seeker Assum had requested to have been met in the foyer by our rogue here, who forgot and then decided to go on his own upstairs, following the Briarwoods to the second floor where their guest room was set.
Some Daddies and Mommies might think a Pinky Promise is just a silly play thing that littles do while they’re in little space, except that could not be any further from the truth! A Pinky Promise is not a game and it is not like a regular promise. It is a very a special form of a promise to littles. It is a promise that never EVER should be broken under any circumstance.
It is a promise that littles make from the bottom of their heart and they expect you to promise from the bottom your heart too. So if you ever break a Pinky Promise, then you will break their little heart. So when your little one asks you “Pinky Promise Daddy?” Or “Pinky Promise Mommy?” Then you make sure to look her/him in the eyes, smile, and say “of course I do sweet heart,“ and Pinky Promise them. Lastly, but most importantly, make sure you keep that Pinky Promise!
Harry opened his eyes slowly, his eyes adjusting to the small light that entered his bedroom when Anne opened the door. Anne walked into the room slowly with a glass of water in her hands. She placed it down on the bedside table next to the untouched plate of food she brought up just a couple of hours ago.
Harry closed his eyes once more as he pulled the blanket tighter against his body. Anne took a seat on the bed next to him and began running her hand through his hair. “It’s heartbreaking to see you this way” Anne whispered quietly.
Harry remained silent, used to hearing the same words used by all his friends and family:
“Everything’s going to be okay someday”-How could it be? He just lost his best friend.
“Just know she’s in a happier place”- Could it be such a happy place if she wasn’t here on Earth anymore? “She lived a happy life.” - She could be living a happy, longer life. With him.
Anne’s eyes glanced to the picture frame that was on the bedside table. She stared at the picture taken about three years ago. As she continued staring at the picture, her eyes started to well up with tears.
Y/N was carefully wiping the cake off her nose, careful to not wipe off any of her makeup. Harry was standing next to her, rubbing a towel against his cheek. Y/N looked at him through the reflection of the washroom mirror. “I thought we agreed to not be those cliche couples that smash the cake into each other’s face” you joked.
Harry removed the towel from his face and smiled. “Love, it’s a tradition! Everyone does it on their wedding day” he pointed out as he turned to look at you properly. Y/N let out a chuckle as she threw away the tissue into a nearby trashcan. “Did you really have to smash it against me that hard though?”
Harry walked over to his new wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m sorry Mrs. Styles. It was never my intention.” Y/N softly smiled as she straightened out her new husband’s tie. “It’s alright. I know you’ll make up it up to me tonight” Y/N smirked, her hands resting on his chest.
Harry’s eyes went wide as Y/N tried to hold back her giggle. Harry placed his hands on Y/N’s waist, careful not to stand on her beautiful, white dress. “Mrs. Styles, are you flirting with me?” Y/N let out a chuckle before she stepped out of Harry’s hold. The newly wed couple exited the washroom and began walking towards where the reception was being held.
Just before they waked in, Harry turned to his wife. “Ready?” Y/N smiled as she nodded her head, “Always.”
The room was filled with friends and family. Everyone static to celebrate Y/N and Harry’s love. There was a sense of happiness that floated around the room. One of the photographers noticed the couple walking in. Immediately he pulled out his camera, “Smile, lovebirds!”
Harry pulled Y/N close to him, his hand on her waist as he placed a kiss on the cheek. Y/N placed her hand on Harry’s check as she looked at the camera and smiled.
Anne fiddled with her fingers on her lap. Lately it’s been hard talking to her son. For all his life, he could talk to her. When he was little and got a scape on the knee, she could put a bandaid on it and everything will be right in the world. When he was a teen and just experienced his first heartbreak, Anne was the one to tell him there were so many other fishes in the sea and to stop dwelling on someone that wasn’t worth his time. When Harry first introduced Y/N to Anne, she was the one that told him that Y/N was special and to never let her go.
What was she supposed to do when he lost his wife?
Harry opened his eyes, his eyes looking everywhere else but at Anne. “Mum, just…I want to be alone.” Harry’s raspy voice let out as he buried himself more into the blankets on the bed.
Anne bit her lip as she nodded her head. Quietly she let herself out of what used to be Y/N and Harry’s shared room.
Harry ran his hand over his face, his bloodshot eyes staring at the papers in front of him. Gemma and Anne quietly sat on both sides of Harry, watching his every move.
“Would you like the deceased to be buried or cremated?”
Harry closed his eyes to prevent the tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. He took a deep breath, his leg beginning to bounce as his hands began to shake.
Gemma cleared her throat. “Buried,” Gemma whispered quietly. Anne reached over and grabbed Harry’s hand. Her heart filling with sorrow.
The funeral director nodded. His mouth set in a straight line. “Will you be going with the traditional ceremony with a casket present or not present?”
Suddenly, Harry stood up and walked out the room. Gemma was quick to go after her younger brother while Anne stayed back with the director.
“Harry!” Gemma called out as Harry was pacing out the door. Gemma placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to get him to slow down. Harry turned around and quickly hugged his sister as he sobbed into her neck. Gemma was quick to wrap her arms around him, her own tears began to pour.
Gemma walked down the stairs, a baby monitor in her hands. Y/N was sitting down on the couch sipping a glass of wine. Gemma let out a breath as she plopped down next to her. “Little bugger is finally asleep.”
Y/N smiled. “You have a beautiful little girl, Gem.” Gemma turned her head and smiled at Y/N. “Thanks love but trust me, when you and Harry have children of your own, they’ll be absolutely gorgeous.”
Y/N blushed at Gemma’s words. Her finger tip tracing the wine glass. A moment of silence passed before Gemma finally spoke up. “Have you guys talked about having children?”
Y/N sighed. “We have. But…I don’t know if we’re quite ready.” Y/N admitted as she turned her body towards Gemma and leaned her head against the couch.
Gemma picked up her own wine glass before turning to Y/N as well. “You guys have been married for two years now. Surely you guys are ready.” Y/N shook her head as she stared into her glass. “His album is almost about to release. Then he’s going to have to go on press tours, then soon enough an actual tour. He’s going to be gone for a long time. I don’t think I can handle being pregnant by myself yet alone care for a newborn.”
Gemma nodded, her mind flashing back to when she first had her daughter. She doesn’t know what she would’ve done without her husband helping along the way. “I think you and Harry are able to take over the world.”
Y/N let out a chuckle. Gemma shook her head, “No, I’m serious. It’s hard and almost rarely seeing a love that you and Harry have. It’s the kind of love you see in movies. I don’t think anything or anyone can ruin that. Having a baby, having children will bring the two of you closer if humanly possible. And Y/N, I know my brother will love that little bug more than life itself. I know he’s willing to drop anything and everything for you. I believe in you guys.”
Y/N’s head tilted as she smiled at her sister in law. Careful not to spill her drink, she leaned over and pulled Gemma in for a hug. “I think the best part of marrying Harry was getting you as a sister.” Y/N admitted. Gemma softly smiled as she returned the hug.
Harry walked into his room and shut the door. He instantly went to Y/N’s side of the bed. He didn’t bother taking off his clothes nor did he bother wiping his tear stained face. He had an excuse. He just came back from Y/N’s fucking funeral.
Harry looked over to Y/N’s bedside table. Everything remained untouched from the last time Y/N was here. Y/N’s reading glasses were on top of her favorite novel that she’s read too many times to count. Her favorite candle to light around fall was halfway gone. There was an empty glass that was always filled because she would always be incredibly thirsty when she woke up in the morning.
Lying on the middle of the table was Y/N’s engagement ring.
Harry demanded that Y/N was buried with her wedding band on. In his head it meant that Y/N would be with him forever. Harry picked up the engagement ring. As he stared at the beautiful ring that took a pretty big chunk out of his bank account, memories of his marriage started to play in his head: how he asked Y/N’s parents for her hand in marriage, how he picked out the ring with both Anne and Y/N’s mother, how he proposed, how Y/N looked when he got down on his knee. He thought about the pride he felt when he would hold Y/N’s hand and feel her ring on her, he thought about the fights that only made them stronger. He thought about how he was supposed to fucking grow old with Y/N. He thought about it all.
And it killed him.
“Gah!” Harry yelled out in frustration as he threw the ring across the room. Harry wrapped his arms around himself as he laid his head against Y/N’s pillow, her smell still lingering. Harry let out a sob. He stared at the ceiling. “You promised! You fucking promised!” Harry yelled through his sobs, his hands flying to his face.
One night when Harry and Y/N were both 18, they took a drive together. They let the night carry them away. The car ride was filled with laughter, smiles, story telling, happiness. They drove until they were miles away from the city. They were driving away from all their troubles, promising to return.
Eventually they stopped in a field a hundred miles away from civilization. The only light was from the lantern Harry kept in his car for emergencies. Harry and Y/N were laying on the hood of his car, staring at the million of stars in front of them, something you would never be able to see in a busy city like London.
“Does it ever scare you?” Y/N whispered, her eyes never once leaving the beautiful sight in front of her. Harry looked over at his girlfriend, his eyebrows raised. “About what, love?”
Y/N looked at those beautiful green eyes she would always get lost in. “About how fast everything is changing for us?”
And things were changing. Harry was in one of the biggest bands in history, their success growing more and more each day while Y/N tackled the hardship of being a uni student. It was a sore topic. To talk about the idea of someday growing apart.
Harry nodded his head as he gave Y/N’s hand a squeeze. “Sometimes it scares me. It scares me how much I love you. How much I adore you. How I couldn’t see myself with any other person than you.”
Harry’s words brought a smile to Y/N’s face. She leaned up and looked at her boyfriend. “I will love you forever, Harry Styles.”
Harry leaned up, a smile decorated on his face. He brought Y/N’s hands to his lips, placing a kiss on it. “Promise me something, petal?” Y/N nodded her head, “Anything, H.”
“Promise me no matter what obstacles come our way, no matter what life throws at us, no matter how many people are telling us no, promise me. Promise you’ll never leave me.”
Y/N smiled. This was a promise she would be sure to keep. Nothing would make her say otherwise. She placed a small kiss on Harry’s lips. With her forehead leaning against his, “I promise.”
Harry pulled his knees to his chest. He began to rock back and forth, the tears never leaving his eyes. Through his sobs, Harry whispered to himself, “You promised.”
eh idk. is this too repetitive to the things i write? lol at first i was like damn this gonna be good but then i was like oh god AM I SELLING OUT.
Willow: I wanted to tell you. But I was so scared… Buffy: You can tell me anything, Willow. I love you. You’re my best friend. Willow: Me too. I love you too. Buffy: Let’s promise to never not talk again - Willow: I promise. I promise…
Summary: Written for @sanjariti‘s Game of Prompts. Based on the song Good Times by All Time Low
Warnings: Language, Angst, Underage Drinking
A/N: Caro, I’m so so sorry it took me so long to write this. Congrats on your milestone! You’re awesome!
Sitting under the lights of the basketball court, you nursed
a bottle of beer that you had been sharing with three other people. Sam sat on
the orange ball, sweat dripping down his forehead. Steve’s cheeks were red from
running, his blond hair sticking to his forehead. And while Bucky was wearing
his basketball shorts, he had spent the entire evening with you.
“I gave Rogers a proper thrashing,” Sam announced proudly.
Steve rolled his eyes. “You wish.”
Normally you would have been laughing and cheering, but not
tonight. It was your last night with your three best friends and you were
feeling pretty nostalgic.
Three years. Only three years since this started, since I realized that, for me, there would only ever be Harry.
I think about our beginning as I play with one of his dark curls, rolling it between my fingers, savoring the softness of it, breathing in the scent of it.
“Draco,” Harry murmurs as he comes to. I love the way he says my name, almost like it’s a prayer.
“Harry,” I respond.
“We’re married,” he says softly.
I laugh and run my fingers through his hair affectionately. The morning sunlight catches on my ring and it glitters beautifully.
“Yes we are. You’re not having second thoughts now, are you?”
“That’s not funny!” I punctuate my remark with a kick to his shins.
Harry cackles loudly and catches my arm just as I’m about to pinch him. I start to protest but he interrupts me by flipping me over and pinning me to the mattress. He looks at me warmly before leaning down for a kiss. I manage to kiss him back for a couple of seconds before I burst into giggles against his mouth.
“What?” he asks, his voice breathy and happy.
“I was just thinking about our first date.”
“Oh, Draco, no, please,” he pleads with me.
“Remember what you wore?” I continue, laughing between my words. “The plaid sport coat and the polka dot tie! I can’t believe you thought you were being fashionable.”
“Yes, well,” he says. Harry settles himself on my thighs and looks at me petulantly. “I suppose it’s a good thing you’ll always be around to dress me from now on.”
“Do you remember our first kiss?”
His expression turns sweet and sentimental. How utterly predictable. I love him anyway, though.
“Our first kiss…” he trails off with a sigh and looks like he’s very much in love with me in this moment. I like it when he looks like that. It makes me want to kiss him. So I do. And we kiss and kiss until the kisses turn into something more.
When it’s over, and we’re sweaty and tired, Harry peppers my face with kisses.
“Promise me,” he begins, pausing to kiss my forehead. “That it will always be this way. That we’ll always love each other this much.”
I don’t like promises. My mother promised me that I’d never have to become a Death Eater. She was held at wand point as Voldemort engraved the Dark Mark onto my arm. My father promised me that we were on the winning side of the war. He hung himself in his cell in Azkaban two years later. Pansy promised me that she’d hate me forever after I broke up with her. Eight years after that, she made me the godfather of her firstborn, a little boy named Paulo. But this promise, I like.
“I promise you,” I tell Harry sincerely.
After placing a kiss on my right cheek, he says, “You’re such a sap, Potter.”
“Oh, do shut up,” I reply. I roll my eyes, but can’t stop the grin that stretches across my face.
“I’m going to have a lot of fun with this whole ‘Draco Potter’ thing.”
Beverly’s voice was desperate and high-pitched. She hiccupped over her own sobs, her hands pumping Richie’s chest. He was completely still, bleeding profusely, and non-responsive. The dark bags under his eyes were nearly black, but Beverly couldn’t tell if they were due to lack of sleep or the merciless wrath of Henry Bowers.
“Please, please, please-” She practically chanted, a disgusting trail of snot gathering at her cupid’s bow, but she refused to remove her hands, “Richie, wake up! You fucking asshole, wake up!”
The pavement was hot under the the beating rays of the sun, although Richie could not feel it. His skin was pale, body thin, lips beyond chapped. Beverly straddled Richie’s stomach, her palms flat against the middle of his ribs.
“C’mon, c’mon - come on - this has to work, Richie. You have to wake up.”
As she heaved over his body, a line of saliva dripped from her mouth. Her vision was severely blurred, blood beginning to seep into her tights and single white sock. She glanced up at her other sock, which was tied tight around Richie’s severed forearm. Beverly shook her head, partly in denial and partly in shock. She slipped, her forehead knocking against Richie’s sharp chin.
“Help!” She called out in despair, her voice hoarse and raw, “My friend - please - My friend needs help!”
And, her hands were on his chest again, pumping rapidly. Her head spun, breathing ragged and pained. A shrill scream startled her, followed by the clang of another bike joining the heap.
“Eddie, slow down - holy shit!”
Beverly looked up, wide-eyed and shaking. Her hands continued to work at Richie’s chest, trying to force his lungs to work again. Bill, Stan, Eddie, and Ben stared back at her, all in shock. Stan hunched over at the sight of Richie’s blood leaking all over the pavement, Bill’s hand immediately meeting his back.
“Don’t just stand there!” Beverly shouted at the boys, spitting and snotting everywhere, “Go! He’s not breathing, go get help!”
Bill and Stan nodded, still on their bikes. They pedaled away as quickly as they could. Eddie stood next to Ben, his bike leaning on the stack. Ben gripped his own handlebars as his bike rested against one of his legs.
“I’m going to get Mike.” He stated in a rush, heading off in the opposite direction.
Eddie watched as Beverly sobbed over his lifeless ex. Her thin, bloody hands pressed down on his chest, quiet pleads falling from her cracked lips. Eddie’s feet dragged him, his breathing becoming more and more rough as the approached the two.
He fell to the ground, his knees splashing in the red puddle that he didn’t seem to notice. His hands cupped Richie’s face, forcing the head to look at him - although, the eyes did not see.
“Rich, wake up,” muttered Eddie, voice cracking as he gave Richie’s cheek a pinch.
Beverly began to cry even harder, her hands and wrists throbbing.
Eddie coughed out a sob, gripping Richie’s face tighter, “This isn’t fucking funny, Richie,” He spoke in a louder tone, “Wake up! Stop messing around!”
Beverly fell slack, her hands finally reaching up to wipe at her mouth and nose. Her face was contorted as she cried harder than she ever had before, her chest aching excruciatingly.
“I’ll give you a cigarette if you wake up,” He tried to coax, “I know how much you love those disgusting cancer sticks - I won’t even get mad at you, I promise!”
Eddie let out a small noise that reminded Beverly of something between a whimper and wheeze, his head dropped to Richie’s shoulder, hands grasping at his arm and bicep. He wept into Richie’s ruined shirt, dark curls tickling his forehead.
“I promise, I promise, I promise - I’ll never get mad at you again. Just, please wake up. Please.”
Eddie’s fingers brushed a piece of wet cloth, his head lifting to examine it. A blood-soaked sock knotted around the middle of his lanky arm. Eddie tugged at the knot, his fingers trembling and numb. Beverly’s hand came down on his.
“Don’t.” She warned, “Don’t look at that, Eddie.”
Eddie gave a slow nod, settling for lacing his fingers with Richie’s cold ones.
“What did he use?” The question came out, though he wasn’t sure if it was his mouth that had said it. He didn’t want to know the answer.
Beverly shook her head, “He didn’t do it himself. It was-” She stopped, her lip wobbling, “- He chased down Bowers. Richie kept picking a fight with him, I tried to stop him but he was just so angry.”
Eddie stared at their intertwined hands, his fingers fiddling with the ring on Richie’s finger. He looked up at Beverly, who was sitting still on Richie’s stomach.
“You stopped,” Eddie pointed out, gesturing to her limp hands , “Why’d you stop? We have to help him!”
“Don’t fucking call me that!” He was screaming, tears streaming steadily down his cheeks, “You’re not Richie, he’s the only one calls me that!”
Beverly began to apologize, but instead let out a yelp as Eddie gave her an angry shove. She fell back off of Richie’s body, elbows hitting the burning pavement. Eddie took her place, placing a leg on either side of Richie and placing his palms on the boy’s chest.
His hands pushed down on Richie’s chest. Even through his shirt, Eddie could feel the cold radiating from his skin, goosebumps rising on his own arms despite the sweltering weather.
“Why’re you so cold, babe?” Eddie whispered, his hot tears splashing onto Richie’s neck, “You’re always warm - I love how warm you usually are. My little heater, you’ve gone cold.”
“Warm up, Richie. You’re okay, you’re just cold.”
“- Eddie, stop, look at me!”
“Cold, cold, cold; my cold boy.”
Beverly heard sirens approaching, the sirens that would hopefully save Richie’s life. Time seemed to pass at ultra speed; large, white trucks with obnoxious, flashing lights stopped mere feet away from the kids, men rushed from the trucks, bringing equipment out with them - Eddie was shouting at the men, purely out of anger and worry. His small hands pushed away anyone who came close, face flushed bright red.
Beverly hooked her arms around Eddie’s waist from behind, jerking him off of Richie. A mask was placed on his face, forcing air into his lungs.
“He’s not breathing - hurry and load him up!” One of the men instructed, climbing into the back and grabbing the end of the stretcher to help pull Richie in.
Eddie fought against Beverly’s arms as she held him. He sat between her legs on the concrete, she cried into his neck as he writhed almost painfully.
“He’s cold!” Eddie shrieked as they drove off, “He’s cold, warm him up!”
Beverly didn’t loosen her grip until the ambulance was out of sight, but Eddie did not move. He sunk into her, his bloody hands netted into his dark locks.
“Warm him up, warm him up, warm him up-” He repeated under his breath like a prayer, “My baby went cold, he’ll be okay after he’s warm again.”
Requested: hey can u make something like liam and hayden are dating and the reader is his best friend and everyone is trying to protect hayden from the dreddoctors but when the dreddoctors appear they all protect hayden but they take he reader instead cuz that who they wanted and liam tries to stop them but they still take her and during the time shes gone he realizes his feelings for her and he saves her or something like tht
Pairings: Liam Dunbar x Hayden Romero (ew), Liam Dunbar x Reader
Vanille: No, I’m sure you would have wound up here. Don’t you
remember you promised me? You promised me we’d come and see Gran Pulse
together Hope: Uh..really? I…When did I do that? Vanille: Oh, I don’t know. How about another lifetime? Hope: What does that even mean?
Ok so, this is legitimately my very first theory but I realized something very disturbing while reading the latest update of ava’s demon.
But before that, let’s have a bit of a throwback shall we?
As we all know, Gil and Nevy, great buds and all that! Cute and stuff, right? Gil and Nevy also made a promise to each other.
Nevy will help gil go to paradise, and once they’re at paradise, Gil will ask Titan who Nevy really is.
Just a cute innocent promise full of dreams right? But! What if that promise wasn’t just a promise…
but a pact they accidentally formed?
Since neither Gil nor Nevy never actually knew how the pact worked to begin with, they wouldn’t know if they did it or not with Nevy losing her memories.
However I think that Nevy was sort of… conscious about it, even if she didn’t know anything about a pact. Remember how desparate and urging Wrathia was in making Ava form a pact with her?
Now, look at the many times Nevy has been constantly repeating to Gil how much she wanted to fulfill their, “promise”. And how happy she looked when Gil was so close to fulfilling their “dream”
The same way Wrathia was happy when Ava completed her first step to completing the pact and going into her wrath and power
Ok so maybe not as abusive as how wrathia was but there’s a parallel here.
Now, let’s get to my next point, the rules of a pact. We all know what happens when a pact is not completed.
Now, like I said before, Gil was so close to fulfilling their “promise”. Close. But then Ava wrecked havoc on Titan headquarters, not finishing what they were supposed to do. And then Gil becomes a criminal because of it.
It’s just like Gil said himself:
“Attaining Paradise has been reduced to a wild fantasy”
Paradise, which is a key part that is needed for their “promise” to be fulfilled.
Now the “promise” can’t be fulfilled.
“A monster of a failure” Wrathia said.
and we can already see the changes in Nevy.
And as if to confirm that they can’t fulfill the promise Gil becomes red listed and…
I’m Nothing Without Her – Part 3 - Liam Dunbar Imagine
Word Count: 1,674
Warnings: curse words
Author’s Note: I’m so sorry this took forever! I’ve been extremely busy, but here it is. The final chapter to the mini I’m Nothing Without Her series. I hope you enjoy it. Also, this wasn’t beta-proofed, so sorry for any grammar errors.
I watched Liam and Brett from the sidelines, standing next to my teammate Nolan. The team was completely quite as Brett ran towards Liam. Brett tricked him into thinking he was running to the left side before he changed his mind and ran to the right side. Liam missed Brett completely and ended up falling to the ground. Brett pulled his lacrosse stick back before he flung it forward, letting the lacrosse ball fly straight into the net, scoring a goal. The guys on the sidelines “Oooh-ed”, completely impressed by Brett’s trick.
“Perfect split dodge,” Brett explained the play to us with a smirk on his face. He walked backwards until he reached the middle of the lacrosse field. He picked up the ball with his stick and started running towards Liam again. Liam charged towards Brett, only to be shoved to the side with Brett’s shoulder, making him stumble to the ground again. Liam quickly looked up and saw Brett make another goal.
“Perfect rocker,” Brett said as he walked by Liam. The guys were impressed by Brett’s lacrosse skills.
“Just remember to cover your back, especially if your opponent’s a dick,” Liam explained to us as his eyes never left Brett’s.
“You got some pretty big cleats to fill with Scott leaving. You ready for all of this?” Brett asked Liam.
“I managed all summer,” Liam answered, causing me to roll my eyes as I let out a small scoff.