#audio fandom hours

[aworldforastage]

they finally made up in the 内娱第一花瓶audiodrama!!!

I put off listening to Season 3 for an entire year because I didn't want to have to wait for Season 4 on that heartbreaking cliffhanger.

I wasn't sure how long I had to wait because this is a not-for-profit labour of love and no one is getting paid for this. I'm so grateful the cast and crew started releasing Season 4 on schedule despite it being a free production 🥹

Listen to it for free on Mao'er FM!

[inkyrainstorms]

Martian Stan AU - The Discovery (EXTRA!!)

Oh mama… just killed a man — a gun against his headPulled my trigger, now he’s dead

(fic is linked!)

@aroace-get-out-of-my-face @pleasantartisanhottea @empressofsamoyeds @pinesfamilycatsau @littlelilliana15

I’m not going to make a habit of tagging for non-fic things, but I’m really proud of this and figured, why not? I hope you guys like it as much as I liked making it!! <33

[vind3miat0r]

Angel and Darlin as that one meme where they both order drinks and the sugary drink gets placed in front of Angel and the beer goes to Darlin and then they switch

[dannydoesthisthing27]

Angel headcanons and how I think they acted/felt in (almost?) Every audio

Angel that never felt like they did enough growing up even though they did so much more than any child/teenager should be expected to

Angel that was working 2 jobs and had a younger sibling at home they needed to take care of (their parents were around but were unreliable and had reactive personalities)

Angel that hit their growth spurt in early high school, resulting in them being taller than most of their peers

Angel who wanted to pursue an art degree but was told it would never lead them anywhere, so they studied medicine when they went to college

Angel who spent most of their life walking on eggshells when it came to anything serious (especially friendships and relationships. They're bold on the outside but keep their real feelings locked down)

Angel that tried to make themselves seem smaller for a long time because they didn't want to intimidate their friends

Angels who's first serious relationship was with Micheal. He wasn't bad to them persay, but he didn't set a great baseline for their standards

Angel who was so sad they had to leave their cat behind, but they knew at the time it was the best decision because they wouldn't be able to care for her

Angel who moved into a 2 bedroom flat and experienced real independence for the first time

Angel who noticed a guy at the grocery store staring at them and couldn't help being a little intimidated, even if he was only an inch or two taller than them....and was covered in muscle...and a tight shi- groceries they're getting groceries

Angel that went to a local park to see the stray dogs and cats that hand around and give them some food. Just to notice someone who looked eerily similar to thar guy from the store, but surely it was just coincidence or they live in the same area...right?

Angel who saw a new sandwich place opened near them recently and decided to try it out

Angel barely getting to choose their table when there's a body in front of them and intense eyes staring them down, it's that man from the grocery store? Questioning why they're stalking him...

Angel that couldn't help snickering at the thought of actually stalking someone and proposing that maybe he was the one stalking them and then inviting him to sit so they could actually talk

Angel that was playing up being sour about losing smash when David said he actually saw a future with them, and all of a sudden, it wasn't just them hoping anymore

Angel who wasn't phased by the fact that magic was real because they'd always believed in some kind of magic even loosely. They believed there was more than what they were seeing when they went to the far side of town (wards)

Angel who wanted to see David's wolf not because they felt like they needed the proof, but because they wanted to give him a way of sharing every part of himself, in the same way they were starting to

Angel that was nervous to ask so close to an anniversary, but did it anyways because they thought it might be a good way to put some emphasis on it

Angel that actually got a little scared when they first saw Davey shift because it almost looked like it should be painful. Their hands shaking when they first reached out to pet him, pausing just before so that he could have space to pull away if he really wanted to

Angel that jumped out of their skin when he shook his head to stop them scratching because they weren't expecting it

Angel who's heart dropped when he accused them of cheating because they never wanted him to think of them like that (their father cheated on their mother once and they swore they would never be like him)

Angel that was more open with everything, even the big stuff, after that moment

Angel who was scared to sleep the first few weeks in their new house, especially when a violent storm woke them up from an already uneasy rest. Them waking up Davey only to immediately regret it because they're a grown adult that should be able to handle it themselves, but then his arms are around them and his legs are over theirs

Angel feeling their heart shatter when their first solstice living together happened and David broke down. Angel that had never seen that side of him and them scared to think that they were the only thing he had to lean on

Angel that held their breath when Davey said his father would've liked them because they couldn't cry yet, not while he was still awake

Angel who knew how to cook, but it'd been so long since they had opportunity to that they wanted to relearn cooking with Davey

Angel that answered the call from Ash because they wanted to say hi, only to be caught off guard by his concern for his friend. Reassuring Asher that he didn't mess up and that Davey really appreciated the jacket

Angel who was thrilled when they finally got Davey to sit down and play minecraft because it was another way to connect with him through something they liked (as opposed to connecting through cooking which was something David liked)

Angel finding out that they like doing yard work with Davey because it gives them both an opportunity to slow down. Angel who bought themselves and Davey matching work gloves and grinning when he smiled at them after they gave the gloves to him

Angel that was having a shitty week at work and wanted to come home one night and just go to bed when Davey pulled them in and asked if they wanted to go swimming with him. Angel who was thinking about a dozen different things at once, never staying on one thought long enough to find a solution. Just letting themselves loop in the thoughts till he pulled them back down into his arms, floating in their pool, joking about the lights he'd picked for the patio

Angel who had to work late almost every night for a week, even the night of the first day Davey had off in weeks. Them frustrated and exaughsted not sure if they wanted to scream, cry, bury their face in his chest(tits) or lap, a mix of all three, or just pass out

Angel letting themselves collapse into his arms and decompress while he plays Destiny 2 and rambles

Angel figuring out that they can actually get him to ramble, despite him saying "I don't ramble. I'm just explaining the game '...' No that is not the same thing you snot, now shut up and lay your head down. Let me hold you"

Angel that was actually excited to go camping for once, surprise themselves because they usually hate stuff like camping. Them listening quietly to Davey recount stories of himself and his dad. Their chest filling with tingling warmth when he asks them to scratch the lottery ticket with him, recognizing that it was something far more special than just a scratcher

Angel waking up a few hours earlier than they usually do so they can call Asher and Milo to make a plan that will force their mate to relax. Them smirking like the cat that caught the cannery when he listens to the voice-mail, only faltering a little bit when they take a second to confirm he's not upset

Angel that took the time to make pancakes (raspberry and chocolate chip his favorite), eggs, bacon, and fresh orange juice, because he deserves to get taken care of too. They secretly love the moments that they get to be the one in control or the one that's providing care

Angel who had one of the worst days of their professional life and coming home only staying in the living area of the house long enough to take off their shoes. They couldn't track mud in David hates mud. They just need to get to the bedroom. They need to calm down. They need to shower. They need to get their smile back on their face, David needs them to be strong. They need to be strong for him

Angel who felt so ashamed of the fact that they were struggling with something like work after everything that he went through. Him telling them that life doesn't stop just because he's struggling and that they're still allowed to come to him when they have a bad day. "You're my mate Angel, you don't need to be anything more than that. Being with me is all I will ever ask of you. I'm never going to ask you to be more than you're ready to be. That wouldn't be fair, and you deserve to feel seen too"

Angel that wasn't expecting Davey to ask them to come meet Gregory Keaton. Angel realizing in that meeting just how much David actually matters in the empowered society, even though it was just a conversation between two alphas. Angel noticing how much Greg respects their mate, and feeling even more proud that they're the one he trusts with everything because of it

Angel who doesn't go to bed without Davey, even if he tells them he'll be late

Angel taking his hoodie from the clothes hamper, since it was just resting on top, and going out to the couch to watch Star Trek till he was back in their arms. Them waking up just enough to notice he was back, but still asleep enough that he needed to rouse them

Angel who hates getting sick because not being able to do the things that are their responsibility makes them incredibly anxious, which is what leads them to still do the dishes when they're sick

Angel letting Davey convince them back to bed without much protest because they really were exaughsted. Crass jokes still falling from their lips as they watched him get changed, a little surprised that he wants to cuddle them when they're sick, when he's so adamantly against cuddles when he's the sick one

Angel that was excited about the smash tournament because it was the first time they'd been able to be around the other mates and shifters since getting engaged (Sweetheart and Sam hype them, baaabe, and their rings up big time)

Angel who loves watching Davey workout for a multitude of reasons, the main one being that they adore how much he loves when they watch him. The other reason is that it actually motivates them to want to workout as well...sometimes...when they're at home...and it's not the crack of dawn...

Angel that never watches scary movies asking Davey if there's any he likes that he thinks would be fun for them to watch. Only to immediately regret this when an hour in he starts messing with them (they're not the only menace in the relationship and get mock offended when David tries to deny that he is, in fact, a menace)

(Audio headcanons/actions angel takes are done now. Below here is just misc headcanons)

Angels lockscreen is a .05 picture of David in his wolf form

Angel hates tight clothes (on the upper half more so they'll suffer through tight pants to make their ass look good)

Angel keeps tampons, pads, pain medication, bandaids, and various other hygene/medical supplies in their bag/car/house as a precaution for anyone that needs it (Davey already had a menstruation crustation(crab shaped basket) in his guest bathroom for the pack members who get periods) so they just added to it

Angel has .05 pictures of all the shifters, but their favorites are the ones of Darlin because they're impossible to make sit still when shifted (unless Sam is present) so all the pictures are blurry or look like Angel was jumping out of the way

Angel and Milo go to lunch together sometimes

Angel bites and pokes David for absolutely no reason they just get affectionately aggressive towards him (he does it to them too)

Angel likes when Davey lays on top of them because they can feel his heartbeat against them, and it let's them know he's there and they're both ok

(I chose not to talk about the inversion or proposal/marriage audios because those are topics that I don't have a good way of explaining how Angel felt during them. There's just a lot more going on than just them and David or them and the other pack members, and I don't think I could properly single their emotions out)

[6-atlas-6]

Avior was a selfish man.

He was selfish for pulling his starlight back into that makeshift hell, damning them for what could have been eternity.

He was selfish for pretending like he didn't know them, for keeping year's of their life a secret from them in the name of their own good.

He was selfish for loving them throughout it all. For trying to reach to the stars instead of admiring them from a distance.

He was selfish for thinking he deserved to bask in their light after all he had done to snuff it out. For thinking he deserved to see his starlight smile after he had made them cry.

He was selfish for writing down the story of their years together in hell, in the case that one day, his starlight would forget him all over again.

He was selfish for knowing that, even if they did forget, his starlight would fall in love with him no matter how many times they forgot him, and using that against them anyways.

He was elfish for not being able to leave his starlight alone. For knowing that when the day comes that his love takes their last breath, he won't hesitate to follow. To join them in the stars.

It would have been better if his starlight had never remembered him at all. If he was left to rot, loving someone far out of his reach without the faintest idea of who he was.

But Avior was a selfish man. Selfish enough that he had allowed himself to love.

[ajistryinghisbest]

Angel: *wakes up in a cold sweat*

David: what!? What!?

Angel: *in tears* THE ONLY WAY SAM AND TANK CAN LIVE NORMAL LIVES IS IF THE BREAK UP?

David: …Angel you took too much NighQuil didn’t you.

Angel: *sobbing* mAyBe

[scarscribblesstuff]

When it rains, it pours

Fandom: Redacted Audio

Characters: Damien, Huxley, Lasko, Gavin, Dear, Freelancer

Pairings: Damien/Huxley, Gavin/Freelancer, Lasko/Dear

Song: https://open.spotify.com/track/2TPq2guTODEmGZCvRFZfek?si=TXYU3ajTSaaazdAMpujBXg

Tw: mentions of magical allegory for assault and manipulation (Kody) and just Freelancer discussing their feelings on that experience a lil more. Look after your mental health lovelies.

Please do not feed to AI, claim as your own, or repost to other platforms without my permission. The characters belong to Redacted Audio and this is a fan work.

(Fic below cut)

It was the first time in weeks everyone’s schedules had lined up. The trappings of adult life left little time for much else; but none of that mattered now because it was their monthly game night.

Gathered in Damien’s living room across various plush surfaces, all six of them sprawled out and staring intently at the tv screen. The music speeds up, causing turmoil among the players.

“How are you already on your final lap Lasko?!” Damien hisses, gripping the controller so tight it’s a wonder it doesn't snap.

“I told you I'd been practicing.” Lasko says calmly, eyes still trained on the screen.

Dear snorts from the bean bag in between his legs. “That he has.”

“But Damien,” Gavin drawls, laid back casually on the left arm of the sofa, “I thought you welcomed a little challenge?”

“I do. Just not when this game is clearly generating its items on an unfair basis.”

“I didn't know the game could like, do that. That's not fair.” Huxley says from behind Damien, resting his head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around him with his controller in front.

“It can't Hux, it's just luck.” Lasko explains, eyes still locked on the screen.

“It's more than luck when I am saddled with two blue shells and a red shell in the span of two minutes, whereas Lasko has had little more to deal with than a singular banana peel in his way.” Damien insists, nearly knocking Huxley off his shoulder as he leans into the final few turns.

“You got this Sweets.” Dear encourages, tapping Lasko’s knee.

“Come on Dames you're so close!” Huxley cheers with a small kiss to his boyfriend’s cheek.

Noticing their lack of contribution, Gavin tunes into his partner who is sprawled against him on the sofa. They're staring out the window, hardly moving, the controller lying forgotten in their lap.

“Freelancer?” He murmurs, touching their shoulder carefully, but they don't move..

“YES FINALLY!” Lasko cheers as he scrapes over the finish line seconds before Damien.

Damien drops his head into his hands with a groan. “That was so stupid! If I'd held on to my drift for just a few more seconds it would have upgraded and I could have won.”

Huxley finishes in a solid third and gives Damien and consoling squeeze. “It's okay Dames, you've literally won almost every other game.”

“Yes but this was such an easy mistake.” He grumbles, “we are definitely rematching… but good job Lasko you drove well.”

“Why isn't the game finished yet?” Dear asks confused, “Freelancer’s not moving?”

The banter of the three boys slows down as the feeling of something being wrong permeates the air.

Gavin feels a sick tide roll through him from his love in front of them. Tumultuous emotions bubbling and spiralling through them like he hasn't seen for a while.

“Freelancer?” He asks again, brow creasing.

“It’s raining.” They murmur looking out the window, eyes slightly unfocused.

Dear sees the way this hits the others, watching them share a worried glance.

“Freelancer, hey.” Gavin says, gently reaching out for their hand to get their attention, quickly regretting it when they flinch back as if burnt.

“Ah! Sorry! You caught me off guard I didn’t mean to- I’m fine just tired. I need the bathroom. I'll be right back.” They blurt out, eyes wild, hurrying off before anyone can protest.

The room is silent aside from the music still chiming out from the game, desperately singing upbeat jingles against the heavy atmosphere of the room.

“Dude it like, hasn't been that bad for a while right?” Huxley asks the room softly.

Gavin shakes his head. “It hasn't come up much since they first told me, but they've been overworking themselves particularly bad lately.”

“W-well should we check on them?” Lasko stammers out, “a-although that could just make everything worse. But I don't want them to think that we don't care - because, because we do! We really do! But that could also make them feel smothered and that's the last thing they would need right now is to feel out of control. Plus-”

“Lasko.” Damien says firmly. “All we can do right now is be there for them when they're ready. These things… don't go easy. No matter how it's resolved.”

Dear subconsciously moves their thumb across Lasko’s knee, as they feel him start to fidget with the hem of his shirt.

“Can I ask what happened?” They ask tentatively, looking up at each of them.

“Sorry dude it's not really our story to tell.” Huxley answers gravely, scratching the back of his neck looking downcast.

“E-exactly and and and that's nothing against you Dear d-don't worry. I mean of course you're worried but I'm sure they'll tell you in their own time, if they, if they want to. I mean that kind of thing, like Damien said, sticks with you. A-and the university could only do s-so much-”

“Lasko.” Again he’s cut off as he nearly stumbles into revealing something personal, this time by Gavin. “I'm going to check on them - the emotions they're feeling right now are…” he shakes his head, “I just need to see them.

Just as he stands up however, Freelancer enters the room. Posture stiff, face still slightly puffy, radiating I'm fine, don't worry about me! into the small space.

“Sorry about that.” They smile weakly, trying their best for a bright tone. “I just… I'm just a bit tired today.”

The room is silent as the group searches for the words to say, all that's left is the rain hitting the windows.

Dear takes initiative and breaks the quiet, turning to Freelancer. “Do you want a distraction, to rant about it, advice, or something else?” They ask assuredly.

“I- what?” Freelancer blinks.

“There's clearly something bothering you. I don't know what, but I know all of us want to help. Which way do you want right now?” Dear smiles comfortingly up at them and Freelancer feels their eyes fill with tears.

“Are you sure?” They ask in a cracked whisper. “It was a while ago and really it's-”

Damien is the first of the boys to snap out of their stupor. “Of course we're sure, and who cares if it was a while ago. It impacted you, so it matters.”

Huxley squeezes his hand at those words, “He’s right dude. We're all here for each other no matter what.”

“Y-yes exactly! Exactly that. W-when I was so in my head a-after… everything that happened last year. But! All of you were here for me. And we spoke about it and it helped me step in the right direction. It was off my chest. N-not to say you need to talk or anything in particular but that we don't mind.” Lasko finishes with a timid but warm smile.

“Freelancer.” Gavin looks into their eyes pleadingly, hand outstretched for them, “let us support you. Please.”

And finally the dam broke; Freelancer feels the tears begin to fall before they could stop them and finds themselves collapsing forwards into Gavin’s open arms. They sob into his chest as they feel each of their loved ones wrapping them into a very messy group hug.

“We've got you.” Gavin whispers against their head. “You're safe.”

“It just felt so wrong and-” they choke a little before continuing, “I just felt so bad for reporting it. Like I'd done something wrong and I tried to fix things with him but it just- I couldn't.”

“He was a manipulative piece of shit who knew how to get his way.” Lasko says heatedly. “He took advantage of you in the worst way and then did everything he could to shift the blame where he could.”

“Believe us when we say it's not your fault dude.” Huxley squeezes their shoulder sweetly. “And you're always our Freelancer, and we love you bro.”

“It just feels like he got to take the best parts of me while I'm left with the worst of him.” They say so quietly it's almost missed.

“My love.” Gavin breathes out, voice wavering slightly at the pain coming off them. “He had a terrible impact because he did a terrible thing, I will never deny you the right to feel that. But he has not taken anything from you. You were a whole and wonderful person before and after his actions, and nothing a bastard like that can say or do will prove otherwise. You will and can heal. You have proved your strength, let us carry some weight.”

“Is it the rain bothering you?” Dear asks softly, “because I can redirect it a bit for you if you need.”

Freelancer hesitates before deciding to allow themselves this grace at least. “Yes please.”

With a nod, Dear inhales and the rain sounds slowly stop as the raindrops move away from the window. “There.” They open their eyes to astounding looks.

“You're amazing Dear.” Lasko says quietly.

“Thank you.” Freelancer smiles through another sniffle, and it feels much more genuine this time. “All of you. I… I don't know what I'd be without you all in my life.”

There's a chorus of “love you”s and affirmations as they all swarm in closer again.

“Now, I believe I'm owed a rematch, Lasko.” Damien teasingly reminds the group, laughter rippling through the pile on the sofa.

The night passes without further events. And as Freelancer sits in Gavins arms, watching the room, they realise how lucky they are to have built a family with such amazing people.

[freelancerzvhs]

I’m doing it, are you ??

[brainrotcharacters]

Sweetheart brought aggro to work one time just so he can be a pretty boy on their desk

[damien-rhone]

Had a nightmare last night, woke up, realized I slept in way too much, and have now been getting random shivers. So. Fuck today, fuck everything about today I hate today.

[seventh-district]

Dying Star

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

- - - - - - -

Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.

Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader

Word Count: 4,053

Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]

A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it

Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.

This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:

‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain

‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith

‘No Plan’ by Hozier

The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.

Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.

You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.

Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.

It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.

That’s what you both really wanted.

At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.

That’s what you told yourself.

You only got what you asked for.

To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.

…Right. Luxury.

While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning. 

You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.

The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.

As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.

Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.

He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.

How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.

You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.

You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?

As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.

The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.

You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.

“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”

The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.

You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.

His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.

As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.

You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.

“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.

Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.

“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”

In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.

You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.

“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”

You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.

For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.

…You must be more tired than you thought.

As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.

“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”

Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.

“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”

“Sam.” You squeeze his hand to get his attention.

He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”

“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.

He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.

You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.

"What—what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"

Your hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in your line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above you. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."

Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"

"That's you." You say, matter-of-factly.

"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.

"Mhm." You nod with finality, blinking slow.

Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting you. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."

You scoff. "I am being serious."

Sam stifles a laugh. "No—no I mean—like... what's another name for it... Oh, it's also called the Dog Star."

"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."

He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."

He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"

Your frown is audible in your voice as you latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"

He smiles at your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."

You huff, but begrudgingly shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention.”

Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.

“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And there you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, you outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me home."

In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.

You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.

"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."

You think about dead stars.

You think about time.

"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"

You look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, faint shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.

You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.

"Don't burn out too quickly. Please. I still need you here. I don't—I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."

The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.

Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”

He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”

He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.

As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”

He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”

You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”

Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.

Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”

His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”

You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”

You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”

His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”

You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”

You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”

He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”

You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.

He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”

You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know—some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.

Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.

Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”

You nod. “…Please.”

He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”

“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.

“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”

His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”

You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”

He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”

You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”

As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”

He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”

He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.

“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”

Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.

“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”

You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.

“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”

Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.

“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”

Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.

“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”

“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.

His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”

“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”

You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”

It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”

“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”

He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”

A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash

[aworldforastage]

more questionable decisions from the "The Return of Cambrian Period"/寒武再临 AD ...

This is their banner poster for Episode 2:

and this the banner poster for the most recent episode.

they... they just keep adding people to the right...

Credit where credit is due, I do like the art style and character designs, but you can't even tell who is the protagonist anymore! The relative scale or position of the characters is more misleading than helpful. If we get to the final arcs, will we have all twenty-something human combatants lined up like a class photo (with the main gang in the left corner)?

Also, if Wu You and Chen Shao can be draw in the same scale as protagonist Cong Xia, why is Abu shrunken down? Let us see the babiest 8-meter-tall cat in his full-sized glory!

[velociheroviridi]

I'm not fixated on Danny Phantom right now, what could you possibly be talking about?

After like 6 years of having the software, DP is the motivation I needed to finally understood the youtube tutorials on how to animate in csp I guess, so here's my first ever little animation! I know it's super rough but now that I actually know what I'm doing, I'll probably try again when it's not past midnight

[vind3miat0r]

happy shaw pack wedding, im never drawing people in dresses ever again

[artyarchivehoard]

Noot simps come get ur man

[prince-damien-of-darkness]

I need a tiny empathy daemon with cute little horns and sunny attitude to come help me fall asleep PLEASE