#to wait for a suitable time/“reason” to block

[hoovesandfloorpaws]

HLD tweets about the block from 2022

if anon wants to know more about HLD block:

It was literally from nowhere, when they posted about the festival location, their (venue's) own website had already done it;

A theory was that some solos told him they were leaking/sharing leaks of some unreleased songs which also not true, it was an anon account on twitter, I saw with my own eyes;

Also some said he was "against" they having the option of "superfan" which is like a paid subscription for special info - nothing different than people on instagram these days or paid newsletters;

Everything they posted for superfans was on everyone's general tl in seconds and they never said anything against it;

They did weekly listening parties; special events, created games, interactions, charity drives on their bdays, lots of giveaways too, they had partnership with apps, institutions, other UAs, campaigned heavily for audience voting awards, ect;

They had around 500k followers by then, more than any other Louis UA and only behind harryflorals on ig for Harry, so blocking your biggest UA has to be dumb as fuck for an artist who talks so much about love and gratefulness for his fans, they never did anything so horrible to justify blocking;

They didn't announced right away and I imagine were trying to figure out what to do and what had happened, they asked if people would prefer for them to become a solo H account (since according to the world, Louis hated them), majority asked them to keep updating about Louis;

There are old stupid arguments that oh they update more on H or oh they only talk about L, but it's all solo bs! They can't update equally on both when one is in the middle of promo and the other is mia???

The block, photo of Louis "with F" at a playground/park and the infamous message to Bentleys weird mom all happened in a span of few weeks;

AFTER THE BLOCK, Louis' and BMG team used HLD explicitly on FITF promo. LTHQ liked a comment under THEIR post to hint at the hidden track names, they (bmg) literally posted a vid showing the marketing campaign where their page was open (same campaign that glaringly also engaged with several LARRIE Tumblr blogs), hypocrisy much?

There are Louis UAs that encouraged people to interact and "be nice" to mf Sofie after ONE pap shoot, always creating het dating scenarios for him, asked people to donate money for a f-ing aotv billboard that HIS TEAM should be responsible for, guilt-tripped fans daily for his streams, are extremely weird about his family, insult 1D, Harry and even the fact that Louis does covers on his own concerts and yet these don't seem to be reasons good enough for a block;

[tenderlywicked]

River Cartrwright and screenshots of despair # 3 because I just can't stop: they all fit him 😉

+ a snippet from a fic I'm writing in addition to the sequel of Show Me It Hurts :)

Anger is good fuel, but it can only last you the first few miles. Not thirty. It’s not like Catherine has covered the entire distance on foot of course—she’s not that much of a martyr, but still, it’s been a long journey, and when she’s finally nearing her house, she feels exhausted. Unlike some people might think, reasonably high, retro-style heels she favours are quite suitable for long walks, but not for such marathons. She certainly doesn’t regret saying, “Fuck you, Jackson Lamb.” Yet she’s long started to regret not saying it a bit later, after a lift home, instead of bolting off in the middle of nowhere, with not even a bus stop in sight. It’s always the problem with dramatic exits: there’s never time to think through the logistics.

She’s looking forward to nothing but the comfort of her flat, safe and familiar, but there’s a surprise waiting for her—River Cartwright’s car parked in the street at her block and its owner hunched over the steering wheel, seemingly asleep, which appears to be rather uncomfortable.

She taps at the car window. No reaction. She knocks louder—and only then he stirs, looks around frantically, disoriented and startled, and visibly sags in relief at the sight of her. When he opens the door and staggers out, Catherine sees what she hasn’t noticed in the darkness of the car: he’s clearly beaten up, badly so. It’s not just a black eye and a few more contusions and abrasions here and there; it’s the way he’s holding himself, like he has to make a considerable effort to stay on his feet.

“Catherine,” he says and makes an awkward little movement as if to hug her, but quickly aborts it, leaving her unsure she hasn’t imagined it.

[ur-local-anti-hero]

Dear John

Regulus Black x Reader

Summary: Maybe you should have listened to your best friend's warning about Regulus, you didn't. Now you just have to deal with the consequences.

Genre: Angst

CW: Intimidation, angst, pureblood's ideology, toxic family dynamics

Word count: 1.6K

This is part of my Speak now (Marauders' version) collection.

“Maybe it's you and your sick need. To give love then take it away

And you'll add my name to your long list of traitors, Who don't understand

And I'll look back and regret I ignored when they said, "Run as fast as you can"

You wished you had listened. The argument you had with Sirius when he learned you were dating his brother was being replayed in your head while you ran towards your boyfriend’s room. 

“He’s going to ruin you, you don’t know him like I do.” Sirius had said, voice low with anger and worry. “The moment my mother hears about you two it’s over.” 

“You’re the one that doesn’t know him!” It had angered you, Sirius assuming that Regulus’ love for you was fragile. “I really love him, and he loves me. End of discussion.” 

“You don’t understand what you’re getting into. My brother would never prioritize you over our mother. and she’s never going to accept a Gryffinfor Muggleborn as a suitable partner for Regulus” 

You knew he was right, but some part of you naively thought that Regulus truly loved you.

“I’m saying this because I care about you. You should leave while you can” you could tell Sirius was worried and meant no harm, but that argument ended your friendship with the oldest Black brother. 

That was almost a year ago, you used to have a close friendship with him, but now he wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You refused to break up with Regulus, and you really thought you were doing the right thing. Regulus had shown you every part of him, you knew about his family and all the things he had done and regretted. But you also knew about the caring, loving and kind person he was. 

Even when the war was starting to become more and more imminent as the dark lord and deatheaters won power and followers, he never showed any interest in joining into the dark lord’s lines. The abuse and intimidation became worse and worse for mugglerborns who had the bad luck of running into slytherings in the hallways. 

Regulus was very aware of it, he became like your shadow, never leaving your side until curfew forced him to. And he was the first to greet you every morning, waiting for you outside your house’s common room. 

At least it was like this before Christmas break. It had been a week since you come back from the break and Regulus was acting weird, at first you thought it was because he had to adapt again to Hogwarts - It took him some time to come back to his normal self ater staying in his house - but after a week of almost no contact with him you became worried. 

On your way to the dungeons you ran into Snape and Evan. You had tried to avoid them, head low and pace hurried, but it seemed like they had a special radar to spot possible victims for their tortures and mocking. They blocked your path, you were cornered against a wall as they got closer than it was safe. 

“Look who is here” Evan had teased you, his wand pointing at your face. “Regulus’ little pet”

“Why are you separated from your guardian dog?” Snape taunted you. “Has he finally realized that he’s got more important things to do rather than take care of a filthy mudblood?” 

You didn’t like a bit where the situation was going, you had tried to reach your wand, but Snape had noticed and raised his wand at you. 

“Don’t even think about it” 

“You know, Snape? I’m curious.” He hadn’t stopped looking at you. “What are you doing here, there’s no way you’re going to see Regulus right?”  

He knew exactly that it was the only reason you would ever step into the dungeons. His face turned into a look of fake pity. 

“Oh. Poor little thing, he hasn’t told you has he?” Evan was mocking you, playing with your psyche as all slytherings liked to, still his next words made your blood run cold. “He’s become the new right-hand for the dark lord. As he ought to, at the end of the day he’s a Black.” 

That’s when you started running, Snape and Evan probably tought it was enough torture to mess with your head and they let you pass them by without much hussle. 

And you ran all the way to the Slythering common room. Usually you wouldn’t dare to enter alone, but you needed to see Regulus. You didn’t want to believe Evan’s words, ‘He’s probably trying to confuse you, make you confront Regulus and cause an argument’. You were trying to convince yourself, but you couldn’t deny that the possibility was there. 

You made it to Regulus’ dorm, without even knocking you entered. Inside Regulus was laying in his bed, Barty was in one of the desks, working on homework, or a plan to destroy civilization. You didnt really care, all you could focus on was Reg. 

“Regulus” your voice didn’t feel like yourself, it was void of any emotion other than obvious tiredness from your running. 

Regulus jolted out of bed when he heard you. Barty turned around and his lips morphed into a teasing smirk. 

“Oh well, look who’s here -” “Leave, now.” Barty was cut short by Regulus’ demand, for a second you thought he was talking to you, but he was facing Barty. 

“okay, okay. No need to get aggressive…” Barty said before getting up from the chair. He walked past you, didn’t even acknowledge your presence, and closed the door behind him. 

───✥───

Regulus knew this was coming, there was no way you wouldn’t notice his absence or avoid entirely the rumors of the new deatheater in Hogwarts. He just wished it didn’t have to be this way. He coudn’t face you, from the start you and him were on opposite sides of the war, but he getting the mark was what made it definite. 

“Reg-” “What do you want?”

 Regulus’ voice was icy, not a single emotion in it. He saw you flinch at his tone. He never talked to you like that, his tone was always sweet and words picked with care whenever he referred to you. His change in demeanour angered and saddened you, he could tell. 

“Are you really asking me what I want?” your tone was colder now, you stepped closer with each word. “I’ve barely seen you for a week, and the moment I step into the dungeons the first thing I hear is that you’re the new right-hand for the dark lord. Please, tell me it’s not true”  

He could hear your voice crack and your waterline become wet with unsed tears. He knew you so well, he knew you were not going to cry, he knew you would give him the benefit of the doubt and hear him out. He knew that if he would tell you the truth, how he was forced and tortured to take the mark, you would understand, try to find a way to help and stand by his side. 

“It’s true” 

And he couldn’t allow that. If he were to let you in again, he wouldn’t be able to do what he had to do. End things, for your sake. 

“You’re lying to me, this is all a big joke, it has to be” you cried. 

He didn’t reply, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. At his silence you reached for his sleeve, pulling it up. He didn’t even flinch, and he let you stare at his bare arm. Well, not bare, as the deatheater mark was there, taking up half of his arm. 

You dropped his arm and stared at him in absolute shock. He didn’t say anything, that was angered the most, how he was not even able to say anything. 

“You didn’t want to, right?” he stayed silent “Please, say something” you implored. 

“It's my duty, it’s what 's right.” he deadpanned. 

You chuckled humorlessly “What’s right? That 's right? You’re joining a pureblood supremacist cult, there’s nothing right about it!”  

“And what about us, do I mean that little to you? Does our relationship mean anything at all to you?”  you said in a softer tone. 

“No. It was a mistake, from the start. I shouldn’t have dated a mudblood” Regulus had to make an enormous effort to not flinch at his own words. But this would make you leave, it had to. 

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, but the heartbreak you were feeling was unlike anything you’d ever felt. Regulus had been able to make you feel special, loved for almost two years. He held your heart in his hands and treated it with care, now he was ripping it and giving back to you. 

He didn’t want to fight for your love and you were not going to beg anymore. 

“You’re right. It’s funny, really, Sirius warned me this would happen, but I was too blinded to see that he was right” bringing up Sirius was a low blow, you knew how much he meant for Regulus. But at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel the same heartbreak you were feeling. 

“At the end of the day you’re a Black.” You repeated the same words Evan had said to you on your way to the dungeons. 

Regulus just stood there and nodded. You left his room, clearly distressed and crying. Regulus’ heart was shattered beyond repair. However, this was the best option. He would rather see you leaving, crying and heartbroken for the last time in his life, than lying on the floor lifeslessly as his family had promised if he didn’t leave you and took the mark. 

At the end of the day he was really just a Black, it was the family he was born to and the family he’ll die for. 

Author's note: this one is so sad, I'm sorry Thank you for reading! Likes, comments and reblogs are welcomed and very appreciated. I'd love to hear what you thought about it so don't be shy!! To be part of the taglist Dm me or send me an ask <3 Taglist @feral-posts @izuoyarmin @aremuslupinsim @yourfavgay @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo 

[howlett-dekarios]

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎𝚜

▏Logan Howlett x Reader

▏Summary: After being off radar for years, clown in red spandex also known as Wade Wilson materialized on your doorstep, asking for help. But you had your reasons to vanish, consumed by never-ending grief and empty spot in your heart...

▏Warnings: grief | violence | depression | self-hate | heartbroken character | typical for Deadpool jokes | mean!Wade | soft!Wade | MDNI

▏Word count: 4,5k

▏A/n: Okay so this is basically a prologue for the new series It's Always Been You. Aurora will be involved in the mission of saving their universe on which she'll be forced to meet and fight the demons of her past life. I'm super excited about it so, please leave some word what you think about the whole concept!

Wade didn’t have much choice. Colossus and Negasonic put him in jail and probably wouldn’t be very happy to see that he got out so fast and in rather not so legal way. But he needed help. The X-force plan hasn’t worked out how he imagined. Yes Cable reached out to him, offering to team up and help each other, but ex-mercenary knew better than to fully trust him. Their interests were a bit different, colliding even. He wanted to save Russel when that old cyber soldier had the kid in less.. breathing condition. 

So when he grew his legs back he headed to one more place. It was a risky move, but Wilson just couldn’t stop himself from meeting his legend. Facing the woman who he admired and even jerked off to the pic of a few times. 

But when he knocked and the door opened, the woman in front of him wasn’t very superhero looking. Yes, Colossus told him about your retirement after what happened with your husband but.. well seeing you in such domestic image wasn’t what he expected. Messy upper bun, grey sweats and too big black hoodie, probably one of Logan’s if his assumptions were correct. 

“Fuck, no.” You said, seeing some guy in red spandex standing on your doorstep. 

“Deadpool. Wade Wilson if you like that-“

“Don’t wanna know, don’t care. Get lost.” A tiredness in your voice evident. “What do you want?” 

“I need your help.” You closed your eyes, because you’ve already knew that he would say that. “Mind if I come in?” 

“I’m done with this shit.” The bitch face you gave him was so unfamiliar. From all the old photos and stories Wade knew you rather as a kind and loving person, always ready to step in. Of course not personally, but Colossus has been very descriptive. “Wrong address, buddy.” 

“Wrong one, huh? I’m pretty sure I’m right where I need to be. I know who you are, Ms. 'retired X-Men, hiding out here trying to live a normal life. But I need you, Aurora.” He tapped his finger against the door frame, patiently waiting for some sort of reaction. 

“As you just said, I’m retired. Fuck off.” You tried to smash the door in his face but he quickly stuck out his foot, blocking it from closing.

“Now hold on for a second. I know you’re out of the superhero game, but I’m not asking you to put on the suit and start saving the world again.” He looked you up and down, his gaze lingering on your face and the hoodie you were wearing. “I just need a little help. Some information, maybe a bit of your time. Consider it a favor.” 

Obviously it was all a lie but he couldn’t bring any other idea how he could’ve stopped you from kicking him out instantly. But his skills in talking could buy him some time, particularly seeing what has been hanging on your neck. Dogtags that could’ve  belonged only to one person in the past. 

“You have five minutes.” A long sigh left you while stepping out of the way, allowing him to enter. 

“Very generous of you, peanut. Five minutes are all I need.” His eyes quickly scanned the place. It was a rather small flat, but still giving sort of calming and quiet feeling. Not very suitable for a hero but very you. “Nice place. A bit dull and normal for someone as extraordinary as you, but I guess that's the whole point, right?” 

“You're here as an interior designer or you just like yapping?” It was met with his laugh which only proved your point. “Listen I like normality and want it to stay that way.” 

“Just making an observation, no need to get snappy.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes never leaving you. “So you like being a civilian, all low-profile. I get it.” He looked around your flat. “But you've been a part of the X-Men for what, a good chunk of your life? Saving the world, fighting the bad guys. Can you really give all that up? And don't give me that crap about retirement because FOX couldn’t get that cheap all recently.” 

You gave him a quick glance through her arm, not really facing him.

“I have my reasons.” Your tone low, not really wanting to get into any details. 

“Yeah, I bet you do. Losing someone precious, huh? I know a thing or two about that.” He pushed off the wall and took a few steps closer to you. After all he just lost Ness.. he could try to understand. 

He only made a step or two when his arm was forced behind his back, disarming him. Shit, you still have your skills in all fairness. That’s what he counted on. 

“Don't.” It was clear what you meant. Not to go further and elaborate about losing people. About old days as an X-men. Not about Scott. Not about Logan. 

“Okay, okay. I hear you. No talking about past losses. No talking about Logan. Message received. But please, do release my arm. I don't fancy having it broken at the moment.” Growing back his lower parts was enough struggle. Only then he was set free, his arms held up in surrender. “Thanks. Gotta say, you've got quite the grip there. So, you got any beer in there? Or does the retired X-Men lifestyle only allow for a healthy diet of kale and quinoa?” 

“Normality is not healthy.” You walked over to the fridge and threw him a beer-can. 

“Well, I can drink to that.” He caught it with a playful smirk, opening the can and taking a long sip. “But seriously, you're okay with living like this? Hidden from the world, pretending to be a regular person? After everything you seen and been through?” 

“Listen, I gave you five minutes so you better get to the point or leave, we clear?” 

“Not playing, huh?” Another gulp of beer. “Something really messy can happen and I need some information-“ 

“I’m out of the business for years now.” 

“I know it, but you've got a vast network of connections, don't you? You might be out of the superhero playground, but I doubt you've completely severed all ties with the mutant community.” 

“The people I knew are mostly six feet under the ground, so talk with the youngsters in the mansion. Piotr is apparently there all the time if my info is correct.” 

He chuckled dryly, shaking his head.

“Colossus? Seriously? I'd rather gouge my own eyes out with a rusty spoon.” He scratched the back of his mask, thinking for a moment. He looked around your flat, once again taking in the mundane surroundings, so different from the life you had once led. “Alright, so you don't have any connections left. What about your mutant abilities? You're a 'retired X-Men' after all. You must have something useful.” 

“You’re running out of time. Two minutes, red.” 

The ultimatum made him only roll his eyes. 

“Always straight to the point. You know, you're a tough nut to crack. I'm starting to see why Logan found you endearing.” 

“Stop it.” 

He immediately caught onto your reaction, the mention of Logan clearly stirring something within you. He decided to press your buttons a bit further, a hint of a smirk on his face. The topic of your dead lover could be used to his advantages if he lead it correctly. 

“Why not? Too painful to talk about him?” He made a deliberate step closer to you, pushing your limits.

“Get the fuck out of my flat.” You said in serious tone. 

But he could see your anger rise. Good. It's a dangerous game but he has been a master in this. Triggering people. A small chuckle left him, his smirk growing wider. He clearly enjoyed pushing your buttons. A few more steps towards you, his tone mocking.

“Touched a nerve, did I? Come on, princess, you can't still be hung up on him, can you? He's been dead for years. You're not still pining for him, are you?”

“I said. Get. Out.” But his eyes weren’t focused on you anymore, rather on the small metal plates on your chest. His expression faltering momentarily before hardening again. He took a final step towards you, his voice becoming darker.

“Or what? You'll throw me out and go back to your nice, quiet life of pretending to be a regular human when you’re anything other than that?” 

He was now standing right in front of you, too close for comfort. He could almost hear your heartbeat racing. But you didn’t step back, eyes storming at him with pure hate, challenging him to say one more word. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice just above a whisper.

“It must be hard, huh? Pretending like it doesn't bother you, like you've completely moved on. But deep down, you're still hurting, aren't you?”

He reached out, his gloved hand gently touching the dog tags around your neck, which ended up with you dragging it back and twisting his wrist. Wade let out a pained growl,  cracking under your grip.

“Goddamnit, you're stronger than you look!” He stumbled back a few steps, clutching his wrist. Your only reaction though was hiding the dogtags under your hoodie, away from his reach. “You really know how to hurt a guy.” He took a step forward, his usually confident demeanor somewhat shaken. “You're more conflicted than I thought. Still holding onto the past, not being able to get over what happened, huh? That's not healthy, princess.”

It was such a hypocritical move for a guy who blown himself up just few days before. But right know he had something else to focus his mind on. A reason to get himself together. 

“You know jack shit about me. About what it was like to be there and watch it all.” Firstly the guilt of running away with Logan and leaving Scott behind just to find out how your brother was murdered by fanatics, later to see the one man you loved more than anything die in your arms. 

He chuckled humorlessly.

“Don't give me that bullshit. You think you're the only one who's lost someone? You're not the only one who's had heartbreak and pain. We all have our past traumas, princess.” His eyes darkened as he continued to clutch his injured wrist which was already slowly healing.  “Logan's death hurt you. I get it. But you can't just shut everyone out forever. You're living like a damsel in a damn fairytale.”

“I’m not a fucking damsel. I don’t need a prince charming nor a freaking guy with his ass in red spandex who tries to seem funny and cool. You know where the door is so don’t make me lead you there, Wilson.” 

“Funny, you sure look like one. Hiding away in this boring-ass little flat, acting like you're not some badass mutant and hero who saved the world fair share of times. You're trying to fool yourself.” He walked over, becoming more sarcastic. “And who said I was trying to seem cool? I am cool. Cool as hell. Definitely for these nerds.” 

“Yeah, tell yourself that.” 

“Fine, peanut, you don’t leave me any choice. You wanna talk about Logan? We'll talk about him. You still miss him, don't you? You still dream about him. You still wake up every morning and reach for his side of the bed, forgetting he's not there anymore.” He watched your reaction carefully.

“Don’t you dare-“ 

“Or what? You'll break my other wrist?

I'm not backing down, princess. You’re living in self pity hole. In a goddamn fantasy land, wanting to pretend like none of it matters anymore. Fooling yourself even though you’re too damn smart for this.” His masked face focused on you, trying to break through your facade. “And you know what’s the worst? You still love him. Care about him. And you hate yourself for it.” 

He could see how hard you’re trying to fight. To punch and kick his ass out of your place. But the internal struggle is already too strong to overcome. The rational part of your mind trying to force you to listen. To let him speak the truth out loud. To help you. So your body stay unmoved. 

And Wade knew it too damn well. Being a mercenary taught him how to read people. The conflicting emotions written all over your expression. He could tell you were on the verge of snapping, but there was also a hint of vulnerability he hadn't seen before. He took a deep breath, his voice softening just a bit.

“I'm not here to make fun of you, princess. I'm just stating the obvious. You've been pretending to be fine for too long. Maybe you should try letting someone in for once.”

“The last time ended up bad for everyone.”

“Yeah, I get it. It's easier to shut everyone out, to act like you don't care. It's less painful that way. But you can't live like that forever. You know what Logan would say if he could see you now?”

“Don’t-“ You whispered through gritted teeth, the bare mention of his name once again lightening the fair of pain in your chest making it hard to breathe. 

“He'd say you're being a goddamn coward, princess. You're scared, and you're hiding from world even though you’re young and whole life is in your hands. That's not the woman he fell in love with.” The short silence echoed the room, Wade letting his words sink in. “You think he wanted you to lock yourself away like this? To pretend like he never existed?”

“I’m not pretending he-“ You bit your tongue,

stopping the lump in your throat from making you cry. 

“Then say it. Say his name. Say that you miss him. Admit that you still love him.”

“I… I c-can’t.” You’ve never said his name after Logan’s death. It would’ve only made it more real. 

“You can. You need to. You've been bottling up everything for too long, princess. Say it. It won’t kill you. Say his name.”

The silence that fell all over the room made Wade think that he went too far. Pushing the boundaries and breaking you completely. In some sense he had done it, acknowledging it after your next words. The whispered squeak, while your eyes were full of tears, cheeks wet from them already. 

“It’s my fault. I killed Logan.” 

His eyes widened at your words, the vulnerability in your voice hitting him like a punch in the gut.

“What? No, you did not. It wasn't your fault.”’He took a moment to compose himself, his tone still kind but firmer now. “You did not kill Logan, princess. That's bullshit, and you damn well know it.”

“I could’ve done something.. anything..” 

“No you couldn’t. You did everything you could. But sometimes our best is not enough, Aurora. And I’m sure that Logan wouldn’t want you to blame yourself-“ 

“But he’s not here. He’s dead.” 

He grimaced, the pain in your voice cutting through him like a knife. Wade knew you were hurting, fuck he understood it better than anyone else. It was the same way with him, guilt trapping himself for what happened to Ness. How he could’ve thrown that knife the other way, or simply shielded her with his own body. 

“I know that, princess. And it sucks. It really sucks. But that doesn't mean you have to live like this. You're not doing him any favors or honoring him by shutting everyone out and blaming yourself. He wouldn't want that for you.”

“Sorry Wade… but I’m the worst option you could’ve chosen for help.” 

He knew you were having a moment, a breakdown long overdue. He took a step back, giving you some space while still keeping a watchful eye on you.

“Bullshit, Aurora, and running away won't solve anything.” He scratched the back of his head, his tone a mix of understanding and frustration. “You're strong, you know that? You're one of the strongest people I know. But you're also a damn fool.”

“I’m weak-“ 

He laughed dryly, shaking his head.

“Weak? You're many things, Princess, but weak ain't one of them. You've been through hell and back, and you're still standing. That's strength. Even if you don't realize it yourself.”

“I’m a mess, Wade, you’ve said it yourself. I'm none of help.” 

“Maybe you are a mess, princess. I'm not denying it. But that doesn't mean you're not strong. You've seen things that would break other people. You've been through hell, and you're still breathing. That's something, isn't it? Besides, you think I'm any better? I’ve just lost my fiancée because I wasn’t even able to protect her properly. She was ready to start a family with me but instead I just stood there when some bastard shot to her. Also, hell, you think Logan was perfect?”

“He-“ 

Wade didn’t let you finish, knowing that you gonna protect your late husband name at all costs. 

“None of that, Logan wasn't perfect. He was a hotheaded, stubborn, arrogant, full of self misery and hate bastard. But he loved you. And he wouldn't want you to live like this. He wouldn't want you to guilt trap yourself in constant punishment of never ending pain you don’t deserve. And he definitely wouldn't want you blaming yourself for something you couldn't control.”

You really wanted to argue. To scream at him about how Logan was anything but what he just said. But you couldn’t. Deep down you knew how much of a complicated man your husband was, full of issues that you two had to deal with for years. A sad smile appeared on Wade’s lips, seeing how realization slowly hit you. 

“That's right, princess. You know it in your heart. Logan loved you for who you were, flaws and all. And he wouldn't want you to just exist instead of living. Like a goddamn ghost, shadow of your past self.” He took a step closer, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. “You can still honor him. By living your fucking life, Aurora.” 

“I was always the one making him put the suit on.. I made him stand up for everyone.. protect them..” After his death, you made a promise. After him dying as a hero, the way you’ve been as a person your entire life, you had to choose the path he dreamed of: a peaceful lifetime without being involved in any fights. 

“And he did it willingly, princess. He put on that suit and fought for people because he believed it was the right thing to do. Just like you. And I know you what you probably have promised but living like a hermit won’t bring him back. You punishing and self harming yourself won’t make him happy.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut, biting your lip so hard that it started to bleed. 

“Look at me, princess.” Your shake of head wasn’t satisfying for him, so he grabbed your jaw and forced your head to look up. “Come on, open your eyes.” Finally you obeyed and he smiled softly. “Logan would’ve never wanted you to torture yourself like that. You have to let go and start over. For him but more importantly, for yourself.” 

“I don’t know if I can.. I don’t know how..” 

“You don’t need to do this alone. I’m here but you have to start trusting people again, let them in your life.” 

“You wanted my help.” A sad chuckle that ended with sob left you. “But you’re the one helping me instead.” 

“Believe it or not, but that’s how friendship works. And you’ve helped me already.” Not now, but in the past. You’ve been his hero for a long time and being able to make you be yourself again was the honor he didn’t deserve. “You've been drowning in guilt and pain for too long. It's time to come up for air.” 

“Okay.. fine.. right..” It took you some time to get yourself together. Cleaning the face from tears, deep breaths to calm your nerves. Wade was patient, knowing how a major step it all been. Finally letting yourself grief heal and accept your reality. “You have a problem, right? Why did you truly come here?” For you it was rather clear that he started lying when it came to these ‘information’ you were asked to help with. 

“That’s what I wanna see.” His tone excited again, him all over the moon by the fact he will be able to see you in your element. “Long story short, there is a not very nice Cable guy from the future who killed me but I resurrected, later he tore to do it again bunch of times, but now we are besties.” He laughed at your face which showed that you had absolutely no clue what he’s just said. “Oh I love your silly goofy face, peanut. But listen now, cuz that’s when it gets better and really messy. So there is a kid, Russel who will do a very naughty things in the future after killing the old pervy jerk who had been torturing him and other mutant kiddos in his orphanage.” 

“Will?” 

“I told ya it’s interesting. So Cable got back in time to stop him in very permanent fashion, but I think we can make the kid do a better job, talking him out of becoming a super villain with a lot of unresolved trauma and complexes.” 

“Cable wants to kill a boy? It’s-“ 

“Horrible! I know, right?! I mean Russel is a little annoying prick but other than that he’s also a very sweet kiddo.” 

“But you told that you sided with Cable-“

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just, let’s say I don’t trust him enough to go there only with him. He’s rather hotheaded handsome bastard if you ask me. Also kid has Juggernaut in his team so-“ 

“What?!” 

“Juggernaut. He’s not really that cool guy, he ripped me apart!” Your judging look made him laugh. “Magic baby. I’m like a sweet little cockroach.” 

“I know he’s not cool, I’ve met him before.” And the fact he wasn’t the smarter guy either left you with little space for communication. “But.. you have a healing factor?” 

“Well, yes, if I wouldn’t have el cancer would’ve killed me in a day.” 

You grip the doorframe of your room for a second, trying to catch up with everything he has just told you. Some dickhead wants to kill a youngster who hasn’t even done anything yet. The punishment should be after the sentence, not the other way around. That why with a shaking hand, you’ve reached under your hoodie and gripped the dogtags, pulling them slowly up to your lips. 

“I’m sorry, baby.” It was a mere whisper followed by the kiss in the metal. It felt wrong, but Wade was right. You couldn’t stay here forever, while the world around you is tearing apart. Not when a kid’s life is on the line. It wouldn’t have been the person Logan married. “I’m gonna search for my suit and change.” 

“Alright, princess. Just don't take too long. We've got a lot of ass to kick and on our way there we need to stop at some place.” Seeing your questioning expression, he elaborated. “Well, if I went to Colossus alone he would’ve probably sent me back to prison. But with you on my side-“

“You’ve been in prison?” The unbelievable in your tone clear enough to make him laugh. 

“It’s a long but hilarious story, gonna tell you on the road.” 

As you went to the bedroom Wilson could see you kneeling down to take out box that was hidden under it. Later you headed to the bathroom, changing your clothes and getting rid of the remaining trails of tears on your face. When you got out he couldn’t deny the feeling of excitement building inside of him. Wade always wanted to see an original X-Men member and damn you were always his favorite, well maybe the second after Logan. You were in the legendary one part, whole body, leather suit. Your hair was tightly done in a high ponytail. The only difference of your appearance from old times were the dog tags hanging on your neck, proudly showing off. Reminding everybody of the sacrifices you’ve made. 

He let out a low whistle, clearly impressed, and a cheeky grin formed on his lips.

“Whoa, peanut. You look as badass as ever.” 

It felt weird to be in it again, the knowledge of you being the only one who left from the whole team. With every second you had it on, you grew more and more insecure and unsure about this whole thing. He crossed his arms, his eyes still drinking in the sight of you in full hero attire.

“Damn, princess. You look very impressive. I swear, it's like I'm seeing the OG X-Men series right in front of me. And the hair? Damn, you look good, Aurora.” He smirked, his tone filled with teasing. “You sure Juggernaut can handle it?”

“He better do. At least it will be worth it then.” 

“You sure you're feeling up for this, peanut? I need to know you're in this hundred percent?” 

“We are never one hundred percent sure

Wade. We just do stuff and hope it's gonna work its best. You helped me so l have a debt to pay off.” 

He paused, the realization hitting him. You were right. He was used to winging it, to making things up as he went along. But you? You were a born leader, effortlessly inspiring trust and confidence in everyone around you. He could see why the X-Men had loved you so much, and why your departure had been such a blow. He let out a soft chuckle, a mix of amusement and admiration in his voice.

“You, princess, are a sight to see. You're damn good at this.” 

“I'm none a leader Wade, remember? You’re the one in charge here.” 

He rolled his eyes dramatically, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh, yes, because I'm the picture-perfect leader, princess. I'm a real role model. A shining example to follow. Look, princess, we both know I'm not cut out for this leading' shit. I'm better at improvisation and chaos.” 

“You boys… always saying stuff like this.” The obvious implication of Logan and Scott here, who were always not ‘leaders’ but being them anyway. 

“Yeah, princess, I know. That's how we roll. Always downplaying our leadership skills, leaving the serious stuff for the true heroes.” He paused, his expression becoming more intense. “But right now, princess, we don't have much time. And that means being honest about who does what best. That sure ain't me when it comes to leading. Now, now.” Wade opened the door and stepped aside for you to go first. “Shall we?” 

And that’s how you ended up in the most random place in your life. A strong friendship with a loyal clown who will provide you much more trouble in the future… 

It's always been you masterlist

[radiosilence-psychonauts]

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Reminder that this is fanfiction. - The Plastic Age AU is a symbolic fanfiction based on the Psychonauts series by Double Fine Studios. All characters are owned by their respective owners and my takes on them are purely based on my own developments. - The plastic age AU shares the same topics of mental health that are seen in the original series. If these topics may upset you, please proceed with caution. Be safe. - This AU may be "cringe," however, I don't care and I don't want to hear it.

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This blog contains HEAVY SPOILERS for the entire Psychonauts series. - If you have not played/watched gameplay of Psychonauts, Psychonauts in The Rhombus of Ruin, and Psychonauts 2, you may have trouble following. - If you have not played/watched these games and do not wish to be spoiled, come back once you've finished them! I'll be waiting for you! ;)

Dividers source: @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[grandmother-goblin]

Field Study - Chapter 9

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Astarion faces the consequence of succumbing to his worst thoughts. Not only that, he realizes he may have done irreparable damage to his relationship with Cas.

Relationships: Astarion x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 4.7k

Chapter Tags: Blood, injury, Astarion gets stabbed, heated argument, baiting, manipulation, sexual content, mentions of past trauma, healing magic, mention of death, cheating.

Content Warning: Astarion gets into a sexual situation that he realizes too late that he doesn't want to be in, which may be difficult for some to read. Nothing about that situation is described in a ton of detail, and this scene mostly deals with the aftermath.

Light from a single torch illuminated the small chamber the drow had led Astarion to. Wooden benches lined the center of the room and surrounded a broken statue of Selûne seemingly in prayer, all covered in a thick layer of dust.

The drow’s head lolled to the side as he lay slumped against a bench, his eyes permanently shut as dark blood pooled in the deep punctures on the side of his neck. Astarion watched it drip down the smooth gray skin of his chest, but felt no desire to have another taste. A bloody dagger rested in the drow’s open palm; a taunting reminder of how poorly thought out the entire plan was.

Astarion pressed the drow’s discarded shirt against the gash just above his hip. It definitely wasn’t the worst injury he had ever had, but it still stung like a bitch.

He couldn’t even be mad. It was his own foolishness that got him stabbed in the first place.

Next time, Astarion would make sure his prey was unarmed. Or restrained. Or otherwise sufficiently indisposed before he decided to bite them.

But it had all gone wrong so fast. He had been too stuck in his own head. It was like his body wasn’t even his for a few moments. His muscles moved of their own accord, touching the man just right as he whispered sweet nothings. It was all instinctive. The same song and dance he had been performing for Cazador for centuries.

Though in those instances, Cazador had always been the executioner. Astarion just led the victim to the chopping block, but he never actually swung the ax.

When Astarion bit someone in the heat of a battle, he was prepared for a struggle. It was only natural. But with how far his mind had drifted while he was with the drow… he just didn’t think it through. It was like his spirit had moved outside of his body and was watching him make a terrible mistake, powerless to stop it.

Over the course of two centuries, Astarion had lured thousands of beautiful people to their deaths. He did so with a numb detachment. Allowing himself to feel anything else, anything at all, was pointless.

The drow was no different in that regard.

At the same time, the drow was entirely different. Astarion didn’t feel a damn thing for the man, but he played the same seduction game that he always played. Like he still didn’t have a choice. Like Cazador was waiting for him if he failed.

Cas wouldn’t have punished him if he failed… but he had failed her all the same. For entirely different reasons.

Sweat trickled down his brow as nausea churned in his stomach. He had never been forced to seduce the drow, but he did it anyway. It felt like there were no other options. It was the only thing he knew how to do.

Astarion drew the once white shirt from the wound in his side and winced at where the fabric had become so saturated with blood that it had almost turned black. Between applying pressure to the injury and a simple healing potion Cas insisted he kept on his person, the bleeding had slowed, but not enough. Astarion closed his eyes and rested his head against the cool stone wall at his back.

It was just as much Cas’s fault as it was his.

Cas was the one who had asked him to find suitable prey before any fighting started. If she never had come to his tent that night, he wouldn’t be in his predicament.

And if she hadn’t been so damn friendly with Wyll….

Jealousy was a nasty creature. Spiteful and vindictive. After he had seen Wyll’s arm around Cas, he had wanted Cas to see him with the drow. He wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine.

Granted, it probably would have been more effective if he targeted someone he hadn’t planned to kill. Oh well. That didn’t change the fact it had all been a huge mistake.

Astarion spared a glance at his cut. It could have been worse. The blade had pierced just above the outside of his right hip and went clean through. Despite his best efforts, the wound still hadn’t magically closed as he’d expected.

Healing potions worked fast. Some part of him had a sick fascination with watching them work. How torn skin would stitch itself back together, and missing fingernails would suddenly reappear. Most of the time when he used a healing potion, he was watching it undo whatever torture Cazador or Godey had inflicted upon him.

He typically felt marginally better after taking a potion, but something was wrong. Black spots still dotted his vision and a sheen of sweat coated his skin. When he lifted his hand to wipe his brow, his fingers trembled. It somehow felt worse than the time the tadpole had made him sick because he couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

Well. Himself, and the drow for stabbing him.

Dammit. Everything had gone wrong. He should have met up with the rest of the group at least half an hour ago, but instead, he was sitting on the floor in a cold chamber, just waiting for some goblin to unlock the door and finish him off.

Pain lanced through him when he tried to stand, but it was the dizziness and nausea that kept him planted on the ground. Utterly helpless. His dagger, already stained with the drow’s blood, provided scant reassurance. Even though he couldn’t move well with his injury, he could at the very least throw a dagger at anyone who dared walk through that door. The drow had promised that no one would come to this part of the temple, but Astarion wasn’t about to take the man at his word.

As if to remind him he wasn’t completely alone, the tadpole squirmed behind his eye. Astarion pressed the heel of his palm to his eye socket in an attempt to quell the creature. It stilled, but the memory of its movements lingered. But the tadpole gave him an idea…. It was likely that anyone he crossed paths with once he exited the chamber would ask questions about his injury, so maybe he could use the tadpole to—

Astarion swung his head toward the door at the sound of the gentle clicks of metal against metal. A key? Someone picking the lock? It didn’t matter. Wincing, Astarion shuffled to his feet with a dagger clutched in his hand.

Another click, and the door creaked open ever so slowly. Astarion poised the dagger, his heart in his throat. But the person he saw was far from an enemy. From either relief or blood loss, Astarion fell back against the wall and slid down to the floor.

It was Cas.

Thank the gods.

“You have remarkable timing.” Astarion adjusted the blood-soaked shirt against his wound, feeling a bit of his anxiety melt away in spite of the throbbing pain.

Cas’s eyes widened as they darted from his face to the bloodied shirt. “Shit,” she muttered and locked the door behind her.

She yanked off her leather gloves as she crossed the room. Her focus was entirely on him as she knelt down, close enough so he could feel her warmth, and pressed her bare palm to his forehead. Astarion couldn’t help but lean into her touch.

“What happened?” Worry wrinkled her brow, and it almost made him happy to see her concern.

Gods. How pathetic could he possibly be?

As if an answer to his question, dark spots clouded his vision as cold sweat gathered at the nape of his neck. He blinked the spots away and lifted the shirt from his skin. “The drow and I had a bit of a disagreement on dinner plans,” he said through a hiss of pain at the rush of cold air against his wound.

Cas gave the wound a cursory glance, tilting her head this way and that as she tried to get a good look at it in the dim torchlight. Carefully, she replaced the shirt over the bloody mess, her expression distant even as her eyes glittered with some emotion Astarion couldn’t quite place.

Her knuckles brushed his cheek, and for some inexplicable reason, he placed his shaking hand over hers. Like he was afraid she would pull away and leave him to his fate.

“You’re clammy,” she noted, more to herself than to him as she let him lean into her touch. “Were you able to take a healing potion?”

“I was,” he replied and released her hand. “A few minutes ago. Load of good it did me.”

“I gave you one of our stronger ones. It should have—” Cas glanced over her shoulder at the drow, as if she were expecting him to provide some sort of explanation. Her eyes roved over the man’s bare chest, the non-piercing bite marks on his neck, then down to his loosened trouser ties.

For a long moment, Astarion could only hear the quiet beat of her heart. How it quickened, just for a moment, before she released a breath.

As much as he wanted to say something, to defend himself from whatever accusations were running through her mind, he kept his mouth shut. Maybe, just maybe, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. If he spoke up at that moment, it would have drawn her suspicion and made him seem guilty.

There was no denying what he had done. He could only hope that she… wouldn’t notice?

Gods. What the hells had he been thinking?

Cas turned her attention to the dagger in the drow’s palm, the concern on her face replaced by a cool mask of granite. Deliberately avoiding Astarion’s eyes, she picked up the bloody dagger and examined it.

For a split second, he thought she might stab him. With the way his whole body sweated and ached, bile gathering in his throat and dark spots clouding his vision, he almost welcomed the idea.

An ice cold tendril slithered through his gut and snaked its way up to his heart. Astarion had wanted to make her jealous, wanted to give her a taste of her own medicine, but as soon as he saw her face….

Perhaps he could still figure out how to spin the situation in his favor. Or, at the very least, minimize the damage he had done. But he couldn’t even begin thinking of how he would accomplish that.

A wave of nausea washed over him, and he wasn’t sure if it was from his own loss of blood or the loss of warmth in Cas’s gaze.

Cas tapped her finger against a seemingly clean strip of metal where the blade met the hilt, then touched her finger to her thumb like she was testing for consistency. She set the dagger beside the drow’s corpse. “He put some sort of poison on his blade,” she announced matter-of-factly. There wasn’t even a hint of emotion within her voice. “Lucky for you, I always carry a vial of a general antidote.”

Astarion watched as she approached him once again and knelt at his side. “I wouldn’t call myself lucky,” Astarion muttered as Cas continued to avoid his gaze.

Cas only hummed in response and rummaged through her bag. She retrieved a glass tube about the length of his finger filled with a yellow-green liquid and held it out for him to take. “Try to down it in one go. Stuff tastes like bad whiskey mixed with rotten vegetables, but it’s effective.”

“How delightful.” Astarion took the vial and did as he was told. The bitter liquid burned the back of his throat and overpowered the lingering taste of blood. His lips curled and he screwed his eyes shut and he resisted the urge to scrape the taste off his tongue with his teeth. “Gods, this tastes like rotten sewer water.”

Cas pocketed the empty vial and shifted closer to him, her attention back on the bloodied shirt he held against his side. She examined the wound like she had seen injuries like it a million times before. There was no more sympathy or concern in her eyes. Just icy professionalism.

And Astarion hated it. He almost wished she would have yelled at him. At least then he would have something to work with. Or to argue against. Or just a chance to defend himself. With the way she was acting, it was like she had already drawn her own conclusions and nothing he said or did would change that.

When Cas leaned over him to get a better look at the far side of the cut, he caught a whiff of lavender from her hair. It was almost irritating how, despite everything, the scent was a comfort to him. Between what was running through his head and the pain in his body, he just wanted to reach out and hold her. To breathe her in. As if that would make all the pain and anxiety just disappear.

“It looks like a clean cut, so that’s good,” she said before his asinine train of thought could continue and he risked acting on it. “Doesn’t look like he hit anything vital.”

“Since when are you an expert on these things?” he asked just to make conversation. The sound of her voice was a comfort as well….

He was such a bloody fool.

Cas shrugged and placed her right hand flat over his wound, but did not touch it. “I worked with a doctor for a number of years. He taught me quite a bit,” she said. Something about the tone of her words made him think there was more to that statement than she was letting on.

Faint, glowing, green light emanated from her palm and pulsed like a heartbeat. Gentle warmth spread through him, starting where her hand hovered over the wound and trickled outward. As the magic worked its way through his body, his nausea subsided and his vision cleared. There was a numb, tugging sensation around the gash in his side as it stitched itself back together.

Astarion knew Cas had some access to minor healing magic. Most rangers did. But he had never felt it before. It differed from Shadowheart’s magic, slower and sleepier. Perhaps it was just the type of spell, or perhaps it was the fact Cas simply had the luxury of healing him outside of combat.

He closed his eyes and soaked in the relief the spell provided. “So, you were this doctor’s apprentice?” he ventured, somewhat uncomfortable with the silence.

“It started out that way,” Cas replied, her tone almost forcefully light and conversational, like she was trying to hold something back. “I wanted to learn how to treat someone with and without magic, and he happened to be looking for an assistant. We got along well. One thing led to another, and we ended up getting married a few years later.”

Astarion’s eyes shot open. “You were married?” He furrowed his brow as another thought struck him like a knife to the chest. “Are married?”

“Relax,” Cas said. “He was human, and he passed away over fifty years ago. I would never betray someone like that.”

Slowly, she moved her glowing hand away from his side and to the base of his throat. Warm magic tingled against his skin, healing some sort of injury he didn’t realize he had, before she moved to yet another spot on his neck. Her expression flickered, a tick of her jaw and a hardness to her gaze cracking her mask of concentration.

Something in the air shifted, turning heavy and thick under the scrutiny of her gaze. Suddenly, that same healing touch that was so soothing moments ago turned oppressive. Like a mild summer’s day turning humid just before a storm.

“What are you doing, love?” Astarion wrapped his fingers around her wrist, more to get her attention than to pull her away.

“Nothing,” Cas said in a voice that suggested the exact opposite. “I have my healing spell up, so I might as well take care of these. Good thing your prey didn’t bite nearly as hard as you did.” She shrugged and her eyes dipped downward for just a moment. “Unless he got somewhere I can’t see.”

A white hot anger shot through him, powerful and unexpected, heating his face and making his heart pound in his chest. His grip tightened around her slender wrist as he yanked her hand away. The magic glowing in Cas’s palm flickered out between them, leaving only the lonely torchlight to illuminate the hard lines on her usually delicate face.

“Watch your tone,” he said through his teeth. “You’re the one who asked me to hunt. I hunted. No need to get all precious about my methods.”

Cas pressed her lips into a thin line. Her eyes, usually so full of compassion and light, turned as lethal as a blade as she tugged her wrist free from his grasp. “You’re right,” she said, her words clipped.

She retrieved a plain white cloth from her bag and doused it with water from her waterskin. Without looking him in the eye, she offered him the damp rag to clean off the blood and asked, “Are you feeling better? Any pain, lightheadedness, or spots in your vision?”

Great. She was talking to him like he was a bloody patient and not… him. She had always treated him differently than anyone else ever had. With kindness, patience, curiosity, and warmth. Now that it was gone, replaced by cold indifference, the absence made his blood boil.

She was just going to go about her business like nothing ever happened between them? Just like that?

Of course she was. As much as he wanted to believe otherwise, she was just like everybody else. She didn’t care about him, but she didn’t want to share him either.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“I’m fine.” Astarion yanked the rag from Cas’s hand and roughly scrubbed at the blood that lingered where his wound once was. The skin beneath was unblemished like the injury never happened. Like nothing ever happened. Hells, she probably even healed the little love bite she had left on his shoulder, he thought bitterly. “Tell me you’re not honestly mad about this. I did exactly as you asked.”

“You did,” she agreed, infuriatingly. “I didn’t realize that you had to get his dick out in order to drink his blood, but what do I know?”

The drow had done that entirely on his own. Honestly, Astarion hadn’t even noticed until the man was already dead.

It hadn’t gone beyond kissing before Astarion realized he couldn’t do it. He didn’t have to do it. And he didn’t realize it until it was too late. Regret and revulsion had washed over him with every brush of the drow’s mouth over his skin, but Astarion numbly played his role like he always had. Cas didn’t know how bile had bubbled in his stomach as the drow had pulled at Astarion’s belt. Or how every second he hated himself more and more with each passing second.

She didn’t know the intense relief Astarion felt when he finally sunk his fangs into the man’s neck and made him stop.

Cas didn’t know that when his mind drifted away as it always did in those moments, thoughts of her filled his head.

Cas pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled slowly. “I shouldn’t have said that,” she muttered and pushed herself to her feet. “Let’s get back to the group before they start looking for us.”

If she wanted to move on like the whole shitty situation never happened, who was he to stop her? What did it matter to him if it didn’t matter to her?

But he wanted it to matter to her.

If Astarion had been in a better state of mind, he would have kept his mouth shut. He shouldn’t poke and pry when she was so clearly on edge. But sometimes, emotion overrode common sense.

He wanted to see that thinly veiled semblance of Cas’s control shatter like an expensive vase. Once broken, it would be impossible to repair. He wanted to seep into the cracks of her very being, just like she found her way into every fiber of his soul.

For reasons he didn’t want to dwell on, he needed to see behind the mask. He needed to know that she felt a fraction of the pain he did.

A sardonic chuckle passed his lips as a twinge of anxiety twisted into his gut. “You really are bothered by this, aren’t you?”

“Please don’t talk to me right now.” Without sparing him a glance, Cas gathered his discarded doublet and undershirt from where they laid on the floor and shoved the crumpled ball of clothing into his arms. “I doubt we’d have a productive conversation and we have more pressing things to focus on.”

Astarion barely noticed that his physical pain was completely gone as he pushed himself from the floor, clothes clutched to his chest though he made no move to redress himself. “The man’s dead,” he stated flatly. “Obviously he didn’t mean anything to me. I don’t even know his name.”

“I don’t want to talk about this.”

“Come now, darling,” he said as if he thought Cas was being completely ridiculous. “Don’t let this little dalliance come between the perfectly good thing we have going. It was nothing. There’s still plenty of me to go around.”

“Stop. Talking.”

“Are you worried after last night?” Another chuckle passed his lips. Not because he found her response funny. He was just being an asshole. “I didn't think you’d get attached so quickly, darling. It was just a bit of fun.”

Cas whirled around, her blunt teeth bared in a snarl. “Then what the fuck was the conversation we had this morning?” Her words were sharp, cutting through the silent chamber like a knife through silk. Hot puffs of her breath heated his skin.

For some sick reason, he wanted to lean down and capture her mouth with his. To taste her fury. To feel her passion. He wanted to soak in that eruption of emotion because it meant she felt something for him.

He would take her anger any day over indifference.

Cas jabbed a finger into his sternum, her eyes locked on his. “You said you wanted me to stay the night. You said you didn’t want to let me go. You said you wanted me. And you’re accusing me of being attached?”

Astarion pressed his lips into a thin line as he felt a muscle in his jaw tick.

She wasn’t wrong.

Getting attached meant opening his heart. It meant begging to be hurt. Part of him thought that bedding someone else would help him realize that Cas was nothing special. That what he felt when he was with Cas was just a byproduct of his newly acquired freedom. That he would feel that way about anyone he got physically intimate with now that Cazador no longer had a hold on him.

Oh, how wrong he was. His night with Cas made him want more, whereas the drow made him briefly consider a life of celibacy.

Cas took a step towards the door, giving him a bit of space. “I was fine with just hooking up,” she said, unable to look at him. “Hells, that’s what I expected. Maybe a friends-with-benefits situation since I know that’s all I’m good for.”

The last part was said with a bitter laugh, and Astarion swore he saw her chin tremble before her face turned to stone once more.

His brow drew together. What the hells did she mean by that? It didn’t make any sense. Briefly, his mind flashed back to how she had disappeared the morning after they had spent the night together. The look of surprise and hesitation on her face when he had told her he had expected her to stay.

“But then you got my hopes up,” she continued before he could even think to address her statement. “You just had to say those sweet things this morning. Things I know you meant because I’m not naïve enough to accept words like that without reading your thoughts. Then you turn around and do this—” she gestured roughly toward the drow “— and have the audacity to act like I did something wrong?”

“You asked me to hunt,” he said again because it was the only lifeline he had. A lifeline that was dangling on by the thinnest of threads. Needing a moment to collect his thoughts, as chaotic as they were, he quickly pulled on his clothing. “You saw me with the drow before you went skipping off with Wyll. What did you think would happen?”

“That you would seduce him to get him alone. Not that you’d actually—” Cas took a deep breath, in through her nose and out through her mouth. Straightening her spine, she took a single step back. “You know what? Nevermind. It’s not important. Let’s forget that last night ever happened.”

“I don’t want to forget it.” The words came out before he could stop himself, and the honesty made him wish he could take them back.

He never wanted to forget it. He didn’t want to forget the way she felt in his arms, the taste of her lips, the scent of lavender and leather on her skin. He didn’t want to forget how their bodies melded together like she was made for him, or how she looked at him like he was more than what Cazador made him. It was the best night he had in recent memory.

Like hell would he pretend it never happened.

“It was a mistake, Astarion,�� Cas said with another bitter laugh that made his heart ache. “I should know better by now.”

Astarion closed the distance between them, stepping closer and closer until he had Cas’s back pressed against the door and she had nowhere else to go. “Cas, please.” He moved his hands to her hips and she immediately batted him away. “I’m sorry.”

Something in her gaze softened and she turned her head away from him, giving an unobstructed view of the bite mark she still wore on her neck. A mark she could have so easily healed just moments ago.

But she didn’t.

Those two little puncture wounds marked her as his, and she had to realize that on some level. That alone gave him something to hold on to as his relationship went careening out of his control.

“No, you’re not.” Her words came on a near silent breath. “You’re only sorry because things didn’t work out the way you wanted. If you hadn’t gotten hurt, and I hadn’t been worried enough to look for you…. You wouldn’t have regretted a damn thing because I never would have found out.”

Astarion felt a frown pull at his lips, unbidden, but he couldn’t refute her. She was right. And the fact that she read him so thoroughly caught him off guard. His fingers itched to reach out to her, to touch her. He balled his hands into tight fists at his sides and tried to ignore the pressure building behind his eyes.

No. He hadn’t cried in years, and he wasn’t about to start.

Laying her palm over his collarbone, she applied gentle pressure, just enough to ease him a step back. “Put yourself together and come out to the courtyard when you’re ready,” she said.

Without another word, without even sparing him a glance, Cas disappeared through the door behind her and shut it in his face. Not an angry slam. Just a quiet, deafening, tap of heavy wood against the doorframe.

Astarion pressed his forehead against the door. He took a deep breath.

Then another.

And another.

In and out until the pressure behind his eyes eased and the tension in his shoulders relaxed.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but no amount of breathing eased the ache in his chest.

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

[stephensmithuk]

The Sign of Four: The End of the Islander

Mediæval is an archaic spelling of medieval, using the æ letter that is rare in English, but far more common in Danish, Norwegian and Icelandic, for example.

Ceylon was the name used for what is now Sri Lanka until 1972, when that country (which become independent in 1948) become a Republic. Today, the name only really remains in the country for Ceylon tea, apparently for marketing reasons.

There has been a police force dedicated to the Thames since 1798, being founded as the privately funded Marine Police to tackle the high volume of cargo theft from ships there. Two years later, the government set up the Thames River Police to replace the successful force. The Metropolitan Police took it over in 1839 and made it the Thames Division, it now being called the Marine Policing Unit. Historically, they also did search and rescue, today done by the RNLI.

They had just acquired their first steam launches by 1888, historically relying on rowing boats that had proved inadequate in an 1878 two-ship collision that had killed 600 to 700 people.

Gravesend is on the south bank of the Thames, twenty-one miles from Charing Cross. It was the first port of entry into London for a long time, but the opening of Tilbury Docks on the other side of the river took much of its traffic. The pilot station for the Port of London remains there, along with a RNLI lifeboat station.

There was also a ferry from Gravesend to Tilbury until March 2024, when it stopped due to lack of funding from the 'bankrupt' Thurrock Council, despite being popular.

Pocahontas is also buried in Gravesend.

The Downs is a ship anchorage off the port of Deal in Kent; ships would - and still do - anchor there to protect themselves from strong southerly or westerly winds (as the coast blocked them) or if waiting for suitable winds to head elsewhere. Indeed, the port town grew up to deal (pun intended) with their needs during their says.

There would be six bridges east of Westminster Bridge on the Thames at this time; Tower Bridge, opened in 1886, would be the easternmost crossing point that a pedestrian or carriage could use at this point. The Thames Tunnel was by now a railway tunnel. Those to the east of that were reliant on ferries until 1897, when the western part of the Blackwall Tunnel opened, in a few years becoming the bottleneck it still is to this day.

St Paul's Cathedral, at 111m high, was the tallest building in London from 1710 until 1939 when Battersea Power Station was completed at two metres taller. . Today, there are still restrictions on building new skyscrapers in London to ensure the catherdal can still be viewed.

The Tower of London had been a tourist attraction since at least the Elizabethean period; it was getting over 500,000 visitors a year by the end of the century, but still retained some non-tourist uses.

The Pool of London is the bit of the river from London Bridge to Limehouse - it was the site of the original port until the Docklands were built to deal with massive overcrowding. The maritime industry here effectively collapsed along with the rest of the docks in the 1960s, but this area hasn't seen as much regeneration as parts further east.

The West India Docks were three large docks and associated buildings built at the beginning of the 19th century (1800 to 1802) to deal with trade to/from the British West Indies, to wit the sugar produced by the slave labour in the plantations there; Robert Milligan, its architect, was a slave trader who was unhappy about the delays and theft of his goods at the wharves, so wanted a more secure facility. Closed in 1980, it was converted into the Canary Wharf development, with the famous Underground station built in the former middle dock.

Now I have mistaken a Newfoundland dog for a coat-wearing homeless person in the dark myself - they are very big dogs. However, this has to be taken in the context of the rest of the description of Tonga.

Barking Level is where the River Roding enters the Thames. It is a largely industrial area today.

Plumstead Marshes were an area of low-lying soggy ground that was used by the Royal Arsenal (see "The Bruce-Partington Plans") as a testing range; no human inhabitants (since Roman times, when the water levels were lower) and the soft ground could absorb explosions better. They were drained in the 1960s and most of the area become the new community of Thamesmead; one of those "futuristic estates" that instead became crime-ridden due to bad planning and lack of amenities, which have not yet been fully corrected.

A slightly graphic (including a nasty facial/eye injury) discussion of the problems of recovering bodies from the Thames can be found in this February 2024 news article on the search for a chemical attacker's body: https://news.sky.com/story/the-traumatising-search-for-dead-bodies-in-the-thames-and-why-dozens-are-found-every-year-13071612

[nihils-trolls]

Chain of Command

Deep breaths. 

Be calm, be respectful.

Vizzya repeats this mantra in his head as he walks down a long hallway. He does his best not to fidget given the armed escort behind him, but the dread he feels creeps up in his throat. Lucky to miss the disaster, but not so lucky as to avoid the fallout.

He’s been summoned here on account of his role in Excelsa Luxe. Nacre’s right hand administrator- well, former anyway. However, he didn’t know what for, exactly. A promotion? To be reprimanded?

The thoughts of what she could want make his stomach turn. That woman… she terrified him.

Yet here he is, about to meet her for the second time. The escort through the building felt like being paraded around before walking up to the execution block. There really was no indication that he was in any kind of trouble, but one doesn’t get called upon by La Padrona for trivial matters- and the destruction of Excelsa’s main branch in Atecastar was definitely not trivial. 

Neither was the death of its capo.

Silently, the escort moves ahead of Vizzya. The pair stops in front of a set of doors- the escort knocking before opening them. On the other side lies a rather elegantly decorated office, inhabited by two individuals. 

“Ah, good.” Calls out a tall, blueblood who sits behind the desk. She’s dressed in fancy business attire, hair pulled back tightly to reveal the several scars on her face. 

Vizzya notes the obvious tension held in her brow, and braces himself for the worst.

She locks her gaze with his, and continues. “Just the troll I’ve been waiting for. Vizzya Esselm, correct?”

“Yes Ma’am.” Vizzya barely manages to respond without cracking.

La Padrona- even Nacre herself had someone to report to, and it was this lady who sat in front of Vizzya. From what he’s been able to figure out, he was never supposed to know she exists in the first place. Met only in passing after a locked-down meeting in the hotel penthouse conference center.

The woman hums, folding her hands together. 

“Well, lucky that you weren’t around at Oceanview just a couple nights ago. Awfully convenient I might add- though don’t misunderstand me. I know full well you have no involvement with the incident there. I called you here for a tangentially related reason.” She says, pausing only a moment to make sure he’s still listening.

“Being the Head Administrator, you’re next in the chain of command by technicality. While you won't be taking Nacre's position, this now makes you privy to certain information- which my associate here will inform you of when I take my leave.”

La Padrona gestures briefly to the troll behind her- which Vizzya had nearly forgotten about until she’d pointed him out again.

“Before that however, I wanted to relay something to you personally.” she says, her professional tone leaning more serious.

“I will be taking over as the capo of Excelsa Luxe temporarily to find a suitable replacement. You will report directly to me, and are to inform the other administrators of this change in command.

I want to know everything. How Nacre ran her business, the in’s and out’s of her operations. Safehouses, cash flow- you name it. Compile it all and have it on my desk here as soon as possible. Do you understand?”

Finally, Vizzya takes a breath. Now that he knows his head isn’t on the line, he can relax- but only a little.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Lovely, then.” She says, moving to stand from her chair. La Padrona sighs and continues again. 

“I made the mistake of trusting someone, apparently incapable, to run this part of the business. One I intend not to repeat, so this selection process will take some time. Keep in mind that you are a potential candidate, which means I’ll tolerate absolutely no failure.”

“… Now, I have other business to attend to since I’ll be in Atecastar for a while. Make sure you pay attention to what Cassio has to say.” The blueblood says, making her way past Vizzya towards the door.

As the door clicks behind her, Vizzya listens to the sound of footsteps leading away- and this ‘Cassio’ clears his throat.

“Sit.” he says, plainly and sternly- a thick accent to his voice. “There is much to discuss.”

[usafphantom2]

Could Turkey buy Gripens from Sweden if the Eurofighters are denied?

Fernando Valduga By Fernando Valduga 05/01/2024 - 19:32in Military

Turkey has repeatedly stated that it has other options for fighters if Germany does not raise its opposition to a proposed agreement for 40 newly built Eurofighter Typhoon fighters.

Is it conceivable that Turkey will consider resorting to Sweden for its capable Saab JAS39 Gripen after Ankara approves Stockholm's admission to NATO?

November reports revealed that Turkey has started negotiations with Great Britain and France for the more advanced version of the Eurofighter.

Since then, Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has declared that his country has “many other doors to knock on” for the combat jets if Germany persists with its opposition.

As a member of the Eurofighter consortium, Berlin has the right of effective veto over which countries Great Britain, Spain and Italy can export the game. He blocked the British sale of 48 additional Eurofighter Typhoons to Saudi Arabia, which is probably the reason why Riyadh is now discussing the purchase of Dassault Rafales from France.

Turkey is also waiting for the approval of 40 new F-16s from the United States. He expects the U.S. Congress to approve the sale, proposed for the first time in October 2021, in exchange for Turkey raising its objections to Sweden's accession to NATO. At the end of December, the foreign affairs committee of the Turkish parliament voted for the ratification of Sweden's accession, awaiting final ratification and approval by the general assembly.

Sweden's admission to NATO would remove some obstacles to Turkey's acquisition of F-16, although it is not clear whether this would influence Germany. It is unlikely that Turkey will resort to France in search of Rafales for a number of reasons, and the purchase of Russian fighters increases the undesirable prospect of additional American sanctions. Turkey has already suffered sanctions for the purchase of Russian S-400 air defense missiles and has also been expelled from the F-35 program.

As described above, Turkey may still look for Eurofighters if the F-16 agreement is approved. However, if the Eurofighters were denied, then a comparable fighter would be needed, and the Gripen undoubtedly fits the profile as a suitable alternative to many of the functions that Ankara imagines the Eurofighter to fulfill.

The sale of Gripens to Ankara would also mark the first export of these jets to the Middle East. Even though it is a very reputable fighter, the export history of the Gripen is quite gloomy compared to the Eurofighter and the Rafale. A successful sale to Turkey could pave the way for more sales.

France fought for years to export the Rafale. The sale of Rafale in 2015 to Egypt gradually opened the way for multiple sales, the most profitable being undoubtedly the $19 billion agreement with the United Arab Emirates in December 2021 for 80 jets.

Suleyman Ozeren, a professor at the American University and a senior member of the Orion Policy Institute, believes that Turkey's prolonged blockade of Sweden's accession to NATO will make any potential agreement with Gripen unlikely.

“Although Ankara has guaranteed some concessions from Stockholm, such as the lifting of the ban on the export of military equipment to Turkey, the point is that Turkey has exaggerated Sweden's candidacy for NATO membership,” Ozeren told me.

“It took too long for Ankara to complete the process without presenting convincing arguments and practical excuses, other than trying to pressure Stockholm to give up more concessions,” he said. “This dragged approach frustrated Sweden so much that it seemed that Ankara hijacked the NATO membership candidacy.”

Ozeren believes that Turkey will probably continue to explore its options for other fighters, including the Gripens, if Congress continues to postpone the F-16 agreement.

"However, given the current situation, Ankara may have to do more than ask Stockholm for the Gripens to normalize their relationship," he said. "Therefore, Ankara's best bet is still the offer of the F-16, which also includes a modernization component for the existing F-16s."

Ozeren also believes that Turkey will still be able to "purse its interest" in the Eurofighters if the F-16 agreement is approved in order to diversify its air force. But neither the F-16 Block 70, the latest Tranche Eurofighter, nor the Gripen are long-term replacements for fifth-generation stealth aircraft.

“Even if the Eurofighter may have formidable capabilities, it will not replace what the F-35s can offer, which also means what Ankara lost when buying the S-400s from Russia,” Ozeren said.

"As for the Gripens, considering all the circumstances, the possibility of acquiring them is a distant enterprise for Ankara."

Source: Forbes

Tags: Military AviationEurofighter TyphoonJAS39 GripensaabTAF - Turkish Air Force / Turkish Air Force

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Fernando Valduga

Fernando Valduga

Aviation photographer and pilot since 1992, he has participated in several events and air operations, such as Cruzex, AirVenture, Dayton Airshow and FIDAE. He has works published in specialized aviation magazines in Brazil and abroad. He uses Canon equipment during his photographic work in the world of aviation.

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[pinkartwitch]

“What can I do for you, Miss Frigga?” That was a suitable middle-ground, right? Frigga sighed and looked away from Razi as her hands fidgeted with a golden chain necklace that had been tucked under the collar of her dress. “I wanted to go out on the property, take some notes about the plants and things.” Frigga’s eyes darted back to Razi’s with the hint of a nervous smile on her lips and a suggestion of flush on her cheeks as she added hastily, “Auntie told me to take someone, just in case of wolves, and mentioned you. I thought you might like a change of scenery because it sounded like you’ve been doing this,” she vaguely gestured to the pile of wood, “for so long.” Razi stood up straight, leaving her ax on the ground by the pile of wood. Her aunt said she needed protecting, did she? Sounded like a very legitimate reason to be alone together, definitely not an excuse every one of her girls had used more than once. Apparently Honeyshore was so perilous that young women needed her escort right to their bedside two blocks from the pub. And now wolves? Must be terrifying to be so under threat, but at least Razi was here to “protect” all the cute girls who could possibly need protecting. “Sure, Miss Frigga, I think I can do tha’ for you. Mind if I get changed, first?” (Blood and Thorns, Chapter 2)

If there’s one thing I know about Razi, it’s that she’s a big fan of girls. Girls are generally big fans of her too, and Frigga is no exception. I’m not either, really! I’m closing in on my goal of one painting per chapter, after this I have 12, 14, 17 and 18! I’m so proud of the work I’ve put into these art pieces and this book, and I can’t wait to show everyone the full breadth of it. Blood and Thorns is my passion project, and its story is deeply influenced by things I’ve experienced as a queer, disabled person. It’s something I’ve been working on for nearly two years straight, and soon I’ll be able to put it down to dive right into its sequel Blood and Thorns: Restructure and potentially getting its trilogy rounded off with the third one some time this year.

If you’d like to read Blood and Thorns, my original story about magic, personal agency, and queer love that overcomes oppression, you can here: https://pinkchaosstories.tumblr.com/bloodandthorns

If you like this, please reblog (it really helps artists out!!), leave a like or comment, and consider following me for more (I update at least once a week) 💖

Available for commissions! For more information, please check out my post here: https://www.tumblr.com/pinkartwitch/739257460225916928/novas-art-commissions

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 171 Rundown

Inuyasha The Final Act: Moryomaru’s on his shit again running around absorbing random demons and… he’s after the snake demons from Yashahime? Honestly I completely forgot they were in the original series and apparently for good reason because the FUCKING DIE, like for all its faults usually Yashahime was pretty good about the connective tissue between the original and itself but I guess these guys just aren’t dead anymore by the time of the series. It is kinda dumb that Moryomaru just kinda wants them because ‘they’re snake brothers that hate each other so if I eat them I can fuse stuff to other stuff’ but his arc’s getting ready to end anyway so who cares. Meanwhile Inuyasha’s consulting Totosai about why his new Tessaiga upgrade doesn’t work the diagnosis is basically ‘sword’s fine, you’re just a lil bitch’ basically the same principle that turns Inuyasha into a full demon if the Tessaiga’s not protecting him, he can’t just absorb demonic energy as a half demon or else he’ll go crazy (did anyone ever tell Towa this? Feel like that was literally never a problem for her) but yeah Inuyasha has to run through a demonic obstacle course and learn how to see swirls of demonic energy which… he could already do with the Wind Scar but I guess this is different. Long story short, he gains the power to cut open wells of demonic energy instead of absorbing them, I think this is used like twice before the Meidou Zangetsuha comes by and eats its lunch which is really funny because they already allude to Meidou Zangetsuha being Tessaiga’s Final Form (which you’d think he could just keep absorbing new powers forever idk) so even on release Dragon Scale Tessaiga is already power crept.

Castlevania: We get an extended scene of how Lisa was captured by the church for… having glass and gears I guess, most of it is stuff we already knew though the thing that sticks out to me is she didn’t use a fake last name, like she goes by Lisa Tepes, good for her being proud of her husband and all but don’t people know Dracula’s name is Vlad Tepes? I think I heard someone mention it before so you’re not really helping your case of not being a hellspawn when you literally have Dracula’s last name, it’s a Ben Kenobi situation all over again. Either way, Dracula calls all his boys up to be like ‘yo, we gonna fuck shit up’ and he’s hired two anime misanthropes with suitably tragic backstories for why humans are awful, to do the planning because if you can’t think on a human level you’re gonna fuck shit up. Though even the resident bloodthirsty fight dude Godbrand is like ‘wait we have a plan? I thought we were just sacking villages all over and summoning as much hellspawn as we could’ which is kind of the plan at this point. I do like how Dracula’s rage is personalized by an exhausted finality instead of a howling rage, like everyone seems to be on the same page of ‘look we don’t like genocide, but this humanity thing has had a good run and needs to stop’ which is kind of worse, like there’s only so much talk no jutsu you can do with someone who’s done talking. Meanwhile Trevor, Sypha and Alucard get their initial brooding about their new journey out of the way (Also how old is Alucard? Like he looks in his twenties, but Lisa doesn’t look that much older than when she met Dracula, maybe she just aged like a fine wine or maybe vampire aging is different and you just pop out a twenty year old classy man but it feels like that did not seem to be a twenty year gap). And now Dracula has moved the castle with the big 3D object thing that’s like the only thing I remember from Symphony of the Night.

Jujutsu Kaisen: Megudad is on the rampage and is ready to Rock Lee all over Cthulu and it’s honestly just fantastic to see like after all the complex bullshit with Domains and Animation jargon last episode it’s satisfying to just watch Dadgumi punch the absolute shit out of this guy. They establish he barely has sentience at this point and is basically acting like a heat seeking missile on the largest mass of cursed energy in the area but once he’s done stabbing Cthulu with nunchaku he takes Megumi outside so idk if he does have a shard of sentience in there and just wants to see his son for a sec or if Megumi’s vaguely defined secret superpowers just make him next on Dadgumi’s heat seeking missile radar. Meanwhile Jogo shows up and Cracatoa’s the remaining three guys in like two seconds and I’m not sure if that’s supposed to be an ‘oh shit he’s strong’ moment or an ‘oh shit those guys were really worn out’ moment. Meanwhile meanwhile, the high school girls are sticking fingers down Yuji’s throat because he apparently has no gag reflex and swallows whatever you put in his mouth when he’s unconscious. Only for Jogo to come out and feed him MORE fingers, like half of them right here which they acknowledge they have to do a bunch at once so Sukuna can take over temporarily before Yuji’s body can adapt. I had a feeling JJK wasn’t going to stick to a Shikon Jewel Shard narrative style of collecting the fingers one at a time but this is still a little more than I expected since he’s basically 75% done and got more fingers in him than a Battle Royale Chinese Finger Trap. So yeah Sukuna’s awake but unfortunately for these guys he want to the Muzan Kibutsuchi school of ‘if you’re not immediately subservient and stroking my ego you’re just dead’ and the high school girls get offed for asking him to save Geto even though he asked them what they wanted, like why’s he even asking if he has no intention of doing anything for anybody. I don’t really like this style of villainy like I tend to go more for people that are reasonable to at least not murder their subordinates instantly since it always makes the villains look egotistical and insecure if they can’t handle five seconds of someone not licking their boots but I suppose it is an effective way to show how powerful they are. Meanwhile Jogo goes over the plan to make sure Sukuna stays in control of Yuji’s body and Sukuna’s just like ‘bro I did that a season and a half ago’ but he gives him the same ultimatum he gave Yuji at that point, land one hit and he’ll do them a favor. Idk if Sukuna even intends to make good on any of these I think he just likes flexing on people cause he offers these a lot.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End: As a prelude to their journey to go meet with real ghosts, Frieren and Fern have a classic ‘can you shoot a ghost if it looks like someone you love’ mini-adventure, it’s pretty simple but it works for what it has to in order to solidify both of their resolve to go take care of their unfinished business. And then the girls take turns taking pot shots at a dragon and decide they could really use a tank, luckily Eisen was training a tank named Stark in the nearby village so they’re just gonna go pick him up, get the x-ray specs Frieren wants from the dragon and save the village in the meanwhile if they have time. Now Stark is kinda interesting because he’s like a combo of Zenitsu from Demon Slayer and King from One Punch Man in that he’s a weird coward and a fraud but also genuinely ridiculously strong, he just has no real combat experience and thus is terrified of actual monsters. This may also be in part due to him being the only survivor of his home village which he booked it out of when he was a kid, Eisen wanted to train that out of him which I feel like is a little harsh to beat up a kid about running from a horde of monsters, like that’s not cowardice that’s just being fucking nine. But he seems to have internalized some of that and never really gotten over seeing himself as a coward combined with his lack of experience so despite being able to chop a mountain in half like that story of the guy making a path to the hospital, he’s gonna need some help popping his Monster Cherry.

Vinland Saga: So Arnheid’s plan was a little different than I thought, she’s not sneaking in to see Gardar she’s just kinda… asking to come in and because Wolf left and can’t tell her to gfto she gets the one guy that will let her in, I like how she doesn’t even flirt to do it like she’s not a femme fatale she just shows up and looks pretty and the guy is just there for it. So yeah while they’re talking about a metaphorical storm it literally starts raining because Vinland Saga god has a sense of humor and Gardar pulls a Rick Grimes to bite the guard’s neck out and slaughters everyone when Arnheid cuts him free in a split second panic. Like honestly she was kinda against a wall here like ignoring the fact that it was a coin flip split second decision for her husband, even if she didn’t help him the guards are still gonna assume the guy with a chunk out of his neck had more to do with her than the guy that’s all tied up so she didn’t have much choice. Meanwhile back with Thorfinn and Einar, Thorfinn outlines his philosophy of dismantling the toxic masculinity of Norse culture and how defying cultural norms is better than just fucking murdering people that are mildly rude to you. Still he theorizes that if they can stop the root of endless wars they can kill two birds with one pacifist stone and end a large portion of the slave trade. Given slavery and human trafficking are STILL a thing we know this doesn’t quite work out but at least it’s not as normalized and prone to vast swaths of ‘we killed your guys that were good at killing so you belong to us now’ so uhhh… baby steps? Baby, thousand year long steps… Meanwhile the guards are searching their barn for Gardar and Arnheid which tips Thorfinn and Einar off that they’ve escaped and now they’ve got a decision to make about who to help with that.   

Was gonna add the two new shows this week but couldn't find some of them and ran out of time so I'll think more on what I want to watch this coming week and try to get some new additions for next weekend.

[donttouchmeimwriting]

Arc 4: Suffering

815 words

The dust settled gradually, making the stale air of the chamber even harder to breathe. Gethin stayed low, forcing himself to calm down before he faced his next challenge. He wanted nothing more than to find an easy exit from this bizarrely personal hell of a labyrinth, but he knew in the progressively sinking pit of his stomach that it was only going to get worse.

"You've made it further than I thought you would," a thin voice emerged from the darkness ahead, "The Mastermind promised you would be a tough nut to crack. I must admit I'm impressed, Gethin of Valenwood."

Gethin pushed himself to his feet, resisting the urge to cough.

"Who's there?" he called out, "Show yourself!"

"Very well."

Torches burst to life along the walls of the chamber, revealing it to be far smaller than Gethin could have hoped for, given its occupant. The tall Altmer who stood mere paces from Gethin wore loose, faded scarlet robes, emphasizing his unnaturally emaciated frame. His pale golden hair hung in lifeless strands around his long face. His cheeks were sunken and shadowed, his eyes an unnerving blood red. A chill gripped Gethin's spine as he realized what creature blocked his path to escape.

"Vampire..." he whispered, feeling a tremble enter his hands. He clenched them into tight fists to hide it.

"Indeed I am," the Altmer confirmed, "Quite ancient and skilled in the arcane arts, as you have seen from my welcome party, but fear not. I will not harm you until you have been given time to prepare to meet me in combat."

"I'm assuming this isn't optional," Gethin cautioned, not comforted in the slightest by the vampire's words.

"If you want the piece of the mask I guard, you must take it from me by force. I will give you time to find a suitable weapon, but when that time runs out, if you have not reached the final chamber, I will hunt you down wherever you hide and drain you of every drop of blood you possess. Have I made myself clear?"

Gethin swallowed, a lump of fear lodged in his throat, and an icy sweat trickled down the back of his neck.

"Perfectly," he answered, uncomfortably aware that the vampire could sense his every microexpression of mortal terror, "How much time do I have and what am I looking for?"

The skeletal Altmer gave what could be considered a smile, but its sinister intent was far too palpable.

"I will give you thirty minutes to find your way through the passages behind me, retrieve your weapon, and meet me in the final chamber," he explained, "This is more than enough time if you don't dawdle. You must select a weapon suitable to you - I cannot tell you which is the correct choice for obvious reasons. In the final chamber, you will find the piece of the mask shrouded in ash and blood. I will not restrain myself in guarding it. You will need to kill me if you want to escape."

"Sounds straightforward enough," Gethin commented, "I imagine there's a catch somewhere?"

The vampire glided towards him suddenly, faster than Gethin could blink. He towered over him, his sanguine eyes piercing through his very soul.

"Gethin. Has anything in your life been easy or straightforward? Have you ever been able to trust someone's word at face value? Have you not been betrayed by every person you believed in the most? Consider my task. I shall be waiting at the end."

Gethin froze solid as the vampire lingered, but managed to keep his voice steady.

"I have one more question for you before we begin," he said, "How do you know me?"

The vampire chuckled and reached into his robes, producing a bound lock of wavy, honey blonde hair, which he dangled tauntingly over Gethin's head. Gethin's gut wrenched at the sight of it. He would recognize that hair in any context.

Alaia.

"Aside from the research done on your history, I have been following your group at the request of the Mastermind for some time now," the vampire revealed, his voice somehow even airier than before, "I know you care for them, despite the front you put up. I know you care for Alaia most of all, and I will take great pleasure in tearing her apart should you fail here."

"Keep her name out of your filthy mouth," Gethin growled through gritted teeth, surprising himself with his burst of courage.

"Her name won't be the only part of her in my mouth if you don't hurry."

With that, the vampire vanished into a fine mist, which then swept into the doorway at the far end of the chamber and out of sight. Gethin's heart pounded hard against his ribs, his breaths becoming uneven and strained. He had to survive now, if not for his own sake, for Alaia's.

[phoenixcoin]

❂⭃ Laws ⥷❂

❧ OC and Crossover Friendly. I will gladly write with any character be it OC or canon. If I don’t know your fandom or character, I will do research but I might not be the best at it so feel free to come infodump on me about the show or your muse at any time. About pages are appreciated.

❧ Shipping I am happy to ship with my muses for any muses that are of age. I ship based on chemistry, but feel free to come to me ahead of time and express interest so we can plot. I multiship and each relationship is handled as being in its own universe outside of others. Mun is sex-repulsed however, so smut will will be extremely rare on this blog. I will not ship with underage muses at all. Platonic shipping and friend groups are encouraged.

❧ About Connections I do not do exclusives at all, but I do take mains for my muses’ universe. You can find my current list of mains in the Bonds Page. Due to some anxiety issues I also do not do mains calls at all. If you wish to main with my muses, please come to me and ask directly. OCs can also act as mains for this blog.

❧ About Personals and Interactions Mutuals are free to send asks, make random starters, etc. etc. If you’re a personal blog, however, I ask that you not reblog my rp replies, as that will make things very confusing for me. If I follow you, I definitely want interaction, so please don’t hesitate. If we’re not mutuals and you want to interact, just follow me and I’ll check out your rules. I’ll only follow those that have their age clearly marked unless you already regularly interact with a mutual I trust. I require rp partners to be 18+, please. ❧ Please Follow RP Etiquette No godmodding (both in sense of conflict and character knowledge), no killing off my muses, have patience with response time and give me a chance to react to actions. Conflicts and battles must be plotted, and the winner must be decided by what benefits the narrative. If you want to talk about what your muse should know that can be plotted through as well. I don’t mind being reminded of threads, even if you spam, just please don’t get angry with me about it. ^^;;; If you can, also let me know when you’re well and truly finished with rping with me or want to let me go as a rp partner. You don’t have to give me an explanation or anything, it’s just so I can safely stop waiting on responses for threads, since I don’t consider them closed out unless we’ve reached a suitable place for that.

❧ Drama I will not participate in drama of any kind. Feel free to let me know if you truly believe that I am interacting with someone I should not be, but I will usually make that decision on my own. A lot of my mutuals don’t get along with each other for one reason or another and I tend to simply stay out of it. I won’t post drama but I don’t require you not to post it to interact. I simply won’t participate. And also, any and all hate sent into my askbox, anon or otherwise, will be deleted and ignored. I don’t respond to those either, if I feel it really is meant to just be hate.

❂⭃ Mun Info ⥷❂

Hello hello~ You can call me Kohi and I’ve been rping for while, but on Tumblr only about a year or so. I’m still learning how to work with this platform. I tend to post a lot of ooc, so if you’re not comfortable with that, please block my ooc tag. I am also very very afraid of people, even in online spaces, so I will have a really hard time reaching out to people. Please have some patience with me. I want to be everyone’s friend but I’m just really scared.

I would also like to mention here that I have a Sibling irl who I live with and is married! I will often refer to Sibling and their Spouse in my ooc posts!

Some additional info: ❧ Pronouns: She/her ❧ Age: 28 ❧ Timezone: gmt-6 ❧ DNI: Smut-heavy blogs, 18- roleplay partners

Blogroll: ❧ mystical-strawberry-sheep (multifandom OC) ❧ meadowthorns (fandomless OC multimuse sideblog) ❧ strawberry-barista (Sanae Hanekoma of TWEWY) ❧ networkscrambled (TWEWY multimuse sideblog) ❧ falseapostle (TWEWY OC w Pokemon verse) ❧ enchantedbrew (Cafe Enchante dual muse [Souan Awaki & Kaoru Rindo]) ❧ sweetlesson (Mr. Saguaro of Pokemon Scarlet & Violet)

[sabineelectricheart]

Cuddles on the Cold Dry Wind

Summary: Cuddling his mistress is Rosario’s best moment of the day. When the colder winds begin to blow, he never shuts the windows.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 1000

Notes: If that happened to me, his princeliness would wake up to a quite ugly sight...

Rosario will never admit it, but cuddling Aurora before bed is always the highlight of his day.

He is not too proudful of a man and, security concerns aside, he does not mind being known as the sort of man wrapped around a woman’s finger, especially someone as wonderful and incredible as his lover. However, he is also rather timid, and would not want to break the illusion of himself as a prince on a white knight, even if they have been together now for many years and she has seen many facets of his he would not care to share with anyone else. He is kind of a silly man, one that would much prefer to have his lover look at him with admiration and wonder, rather than that catty amusement she shots at overambitious courtiers who cross her path.

Besides, her company is just something he much appreciates, but very rarely indulges, aside from those small windows of opportunity. As the Crown Prince of Zaledo and having his responsibilities increasingly surmount, on the interest of a looming succession, the mountains of paperwork and fundamental responsibilities he has to attend to frequently prevent him from making time for relaxation. His daily routine comprises little to no time for quiet de-stressing at his chambers, much less his enjoyment with his mistress.

This has become customary for him, even when she expresses her concern for his wellbeing, or the fact that she misses him. Those are particularly hard to resist, and he knows that she knows it.

Of course, Rosario blocks sections of his day to check up on Aurora, in between endless meetings and audits. He tells her that he is concerned for her safety and would like to make her stay in his home comfortable, even if, by this point, she is more at home here than in Westerlin. However, the truth is that this is partly, if not mostly, for his sanity, since he does not know what he would do if he does not get to see her amid the paperwork and people, and he makes sure her needs are fulfilled as a good husband should, even if this is not a title he currently espouses.

Those small minutes, sessions that normally take him more time going to and from where she is currently lounging in the large palace than he gets to actually enjoy in her company, are deftly sewed three to five times during the day, and his secretary is instructed to make sure this proportion is correct and that their times are followed to precision. More than one skilled bureaucrat found themselves in hot water for that exact reason.

He would find her and smile, ask if she needed something, if all is well, if she is in good health, and that flurry of questions.

In response, she utters simple affirmatives, check the clock and says, with a laugh, “Hurry along, Your Highness. Your next appointment waits.”

As a good-bye, she stands on the tips of her toes and kisses his cheek. The spot grows warm until the next visit, which serves as his own personal way to keep the time during the day.

When the dust finally settles, the sun goes down and the air turns cold, Rosario makes his way to her chambers, a place he frequents more often than his own, the weariness and gratification of another prosperous, yet busy day settling in his bones. Dim candlelight and the faint gleam of the moon from the open window adorning her bedside, he finds Aurora on the bed already fast asleep, and he cannot help but let the smile on his lips take shape.

He climbs on the bed, careful for the noise and the movement not to wake her, and gently nudges her shoulder. “Sweetheart.”

She mumbles sleepily in her sleep, and his chest swells with tenderness. Her vulnerability towards him still catches him off-guard, especially contrasted with her self-reliance in all other spheres of life. The trust she has for him is something he does not take for granted, and he is suddenly reminded that his political activity is what keeps him, and especially her, as far away as possible from a gory fate. That is why he works so hard, to make sure she is safe, for his people and his loved ones.

A gust of wind fills the room, and Aurora shivers in bed, rummaging around the thin covers for warmth. Her hands find their way to his sleepwear, and she uses the folds around his neck to pull him towards her, burying her face in his neck.

“It’s cold.” She mumbles, goosebumps erupting on her skin.

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest. He brushes the stray locks of hair from her face, watching as her eyebrows relax back into the flat line as she resumes her soft, shallow slumber. He is about to reach for another blanket when a gust of icy and dry wind fills the room once more.

He stops when she huddles closer to him for warmth, the blow and the movement lifting up the skirt of her nightshirt just a little bit further, revealing more of the delectable skin on her thigh.

Oh, his lips spread in a sly smile. If that is how it is going to work, then… The thought that Aurora would want to cuddle him all night to be warm makes him quickly reconsider.

Rosario planned on closing the window, but seeing his lover nestle her body much closer to him made him decide that he wanted it open, after all. He kisses her forehead in a quiet apology, she would have to make do with him as a source of heat tonight. Feeling giddy, he tangles both of their long their legs together and wraps his arms around her, their bodies emanating warmth, exchanging it with each other.

Aurora sighs contentedly, and Rosario smirks in triumph. Cuddling her to sleep truly is the highlight of his day.

*_*_*_*_*

Crème de la Crème Masterlist

[mrmoffett]

Forklift Truck Hire Brisbane – Reliable, On-Site Material Transport with Mr Moffett Pty Ltd

When it comes to transporting heavy materials across Brisbane and South East Queensland, having the right equipment can make all the difference. Whether you’re a builder, landscaper, or supplier, moving bulky, pallet-ready goods like tiles, turf, bricks, or scaffolding efficiently and safely is essential to keeping your project on track.

At Mr Moffett Pty Ltd, we specialise in forklift truck hire across Brisbane and surrounding regions. With a 14-tonne truck and an all-terrain Moffett forklift on board, we offer a simple, flexible, and reliable solution for material transport—direct to your worksite.

What Is Forklift Truck Hire?

Forklift truck hire is the process of renting a truck that comes equipped with a mounted forklift—ideal for picking up, delivering, and unloading palletised materials without needing extra equipment on site. This service is a cost-effective and convenient option for businesses that need materials delivered and placed exactly where they’re needed.

Unlike traditional delivery trucks that require forklifts to be present at the destination, our Moffett-mounted forklifts travel with the truck and are ready to unload the moment we arrive—saving time, labour, and hassle.

Why Choose Forklift Truck Hire in Brisbane?

With so many active construction and landscaping projects across Brisbane and South East Queensland, timely and efficient material delivery is a top priority. That’s where forklift truck hire becomes a valuable asset.

Here are a few reasons why businesses choose forklift truck hire:

Saves Time and Labour: No need for manual unloading or waiting for site forklifts.

On-Site Unloading: Materials can be delivered exactly where you need them.

Cost-Effective: Pay only when you need it—no long-term equipment investment.

Flexible Hire Options: Ideal for both one-off deliveries and ongoing projects.

All-Terrain Capabilities: Suitable for rough or uneven worksites.

What Is a Moffett Forklift?

A Moffett forklift is a versatile, truck-mounted forklift that can be quickly unloaded from the back of a delivery truck. These machines are compact, lightweight, and highly maneuverable—perfect for job sites where space is tight or terrain is rough.

Benefits of using a Moffett forklift include:

Can operate on uneven or muddy surfaces

Doesn’t require a separate trailer or transport

Reduces delivery and unloading times

Offers precision placement of materials

Safe and easy to operate

With this setup, your materials arrive on a 14-tonne truck and are unloaded on-site with minimal disruption.

What Can You Transport With a Forklift Truck?

At Mr Moffett Pty Ltd, we’re equipped to handle a wide range of materials for different industries and projects, including:

✅ Construction Materials

We regularly transport and unload bricks, tiles, timber, steel, concrete blocks, and scaffolding directly onto construction sites across Brisbane.

✅ Landscaping Supplies

Need turf rolls, garden soil, mulch, pavers, or sleepers delivered to a backyard or outdoor project site? We’ve got it covered—no more double handling or backbreaking labour.

✅ Commercial Goods

We also assist businesses with palletised commercial deliveries for retail setups, event equipment, or bulk inventory moves.

✅ Building Projects

If you're working on residential or commercial developments, we’ll ensure your delivery schedule runs smoothly with professional, punctual service.

Why Hire from Mr Moffett Pty Ltd?

We’re not just a transport service—we’re your logistics partner. At Mr Moffett Pty Ltd, we specialise in forklift truck hire backed by years of hands-on experience, a commitment to safety, and a focus on customer satisfaction.

Here’s why customers across Brisbane trust us:

🚚 14-Tonne Capacity Truck

Our heavy-duty truck can carry large loads of materials, making fewer trips and saving you time.

🦾 Moffett All-Terrain Forklift

Perfect for construction zones, muddy landscapes, and uneven surfaces—ready to unload the moment we arrive.

📍 Wide Service Area

We proudly operate across Brisbane, Gold Coast, Sunshine Coast, Toowoomba, and Redland Bay.

📦 On-Site Pickup & Delivery

We collect materials from suppliers or depots and deliver them straight to your job site, hassle-free.

⏱ Flexible Hire Options

Need us for a day or a few weeks? We offer both short-term and long-term hire depending on your project requirements.

👷 Experienced Operators

Our professional team understands the challenges of heavy-load delivery and works safely and efficiently every time.

The Process – How It Works

Hiring a forklift truck from Mr Moffett Pty Ltd is simple and straightforward:

Get in Touch – Call or fill out our online form to request a quote.

Schedule Your Delivery – Tell us what you need moved and when.

We Pick Up & Deliver – Our driver arrives with the forklift onboard, ready to unload.

Materials Delivered Safely – We place your items exactly where you need them—saving time and effort.

Who We Work With

We serve a wide range of clients, including:

Builders and construction companies

Landscapers and gardening professionals

Tile and brick suppliers

Event companies and commercial clients

Residential project managers

No matter the job, our mission is to help you move materials efficiently, safely, and with minimal disruption to your project.

Get in Touch Today

If you’re looking for forklift truck hire in Brisbane, trust Mr Moffett Pty Ltd for reliable service, competitive rates, and expert logistics support. Our Moffett-equipped trucks are ready to help you complete your project on time and on budget.

📞 Contact Details:

Business Name: Mr Moffett Pty Ltd Address: Hume Ct, Mount Ommaney QLD 4074, Australia Phone: 404 223 303 Website: https://mrmoffett.com.au Hours: Monday – Friday: 6:00 AM – 6:00 PM

🚛 Services We Offer:

Truck Rental with Moffett Forklift: 14-tonne truck hire with onboard forklift for easy loading and unloading

Construction & Building Material Delivery: Transport of bricks, tiles, sand, scaffolding, and more

On-Site Pickup and Drop-Off: We deliver directly to your worksite—no need to coordinate multiple contractors

Let Mr Moffett Pty Ltd take the heavy lifting off your hands. Contact us today to arrange your forklift truck hire in Brisbane and experience the convenience of safe, on-site delivery done right.

[lioncitblogger]

UFE Singapore: A Minimally Invasive Solution for Uterine Fibroids

"Nearly 90% of patients undergoing UFE experience relief from fibroid-related symptoms!" This statistic highlights the remarkable success of uterine fibroid embolization (UFE), a cutting-edge procedure that offers hope to women suffering from uterine fibroids in Singapore. If you’ve been searching for effective fibroids treatment Singapore, this article will guide you through the benefits, process, and outcomes of UFE.

What Are Uterine Fibroids?

Uterine fibroids are non-cancerous growths, also known as benign tumors, that develop in the uterus. While they are common and often asymptomatic, they can cause significant discomfort for some women. Symptoms may include:

Heavy or prolonged menstrual bleeding

Pelvic pain or pressure

Frequent urination

These symptoms can severely impact quality of life, making effective fibroid treatment Singapore essential for many women. Fortunately, minimally invasive procedures like UFE provide a solution tailored to modern needs.

Why Choose UFE Singapore?

Uterine fibroid embolization (UFE) is a minimally invasive procedure that targets fibroids by cutting off their blood supply. Unlike traditional surgeries such as hysterectomy or myomectomy, UFE involves no major incisions and offers faster recovery times. Here’s why UFE stands out:

Minimally invasive: Only a small nick in the skin is required.

Quick recovery: Most patients return to normal activities within days.

Effective symptom relief: Studies show nearly 90% of women experience significant improvement.

Preserves fertility: Unlike hysterectomy, UFE allows women to retain their uterus.

For those seeking fibroids treatment Singapore, UFE is a game-changer.

How Does UFE Work?

The process is straightforward yet highly effective:

Imaging Guidance: Using fluoroscopy, a catheter is inserted into the groin area and guided to the uterine arteries.

Blocking Blood Flow: Tiny embolic agents are injected through the catheter to block blood supply to the fibroids.

Fibroid Shrinkage: Without blood flow, the fibroids shrink over time, relieving symptoms.

This precise approach ensures that healthy tissue remains unaffected while targeting troublesome fibroid Singapore growths.

Who Can Benefit from UFE?

UFE is ideal for women who:

Experience severe symptoms from uterine fibroids.

Wish to avoid major surgery.

Want to preserve their uterus for future fertility or personal reasons.

However, it’s not suitable for pregnant women or those with certain medical conditions. Consultation with a specialist is crucial to determine eligibility for this benign tumor treatment.

Advantages Over Other Treatments

While medications like GnRH agonists can temporarily shrink fibroids, they often lead to regrowth once treatment stops. Surgical options such as hysterectomy are permanent but involve longer recovery times and loss of fertility. Compared to these methods, UFE offers:

Treatment Option

Recovery Time

Fertility Preservation

Effectiveness

Medications

Short-term

Yes

Temporary

Hysterectomy

Long

No

Permanent

UFE Singapore

Short

Yes

Long-term symptom relief

For women in need of lasting solutions without major surgery, UFE is an excellent choice.

The Future of Fibroid Treatment

With advancements in medical imaging and embolic agents, procedures like UFE are becoming increasingly refined and accessible. For those dealing with uterine fibroids in Singapore, this minimally invasive option offers hope and healing without the drawbacks of traditional surgery.

Take Action Today

If you’re struggling with symptoms caused by uterine fibroids, don’t wait any longer. Explore your options for fibroids treatment Singapore today! At Vascular & Interventional Centre, we specialize in providing personalized care through innovative treatments like UFE. Learn more about how we can help by visiting UFE Singapore.

Take control of your health and reclaim your quality of life!