#Ask the Fallen questions and the answers might surprise you lol

[texanredrose]

Commission I got from @silvireal

I just wanted a pic of the 5 Fallen from the bratty bottom Lute series. This is fairly early in the series, before reconnecting with Lute. From left to right: Lefty, Tits, Junior, Righty, and Ass. I’m thinking of having it be that any heavenborn who rejects their halo can hide their wings because they do look good without them.

[prentissluvr]

cariño — luke alvez

pairing : luke alvez x gn!bau!reader ➖⟢ genre : hurt/comfort, fluff ➖⟢ cw : car crash, mentions of blood and injuries, concussion, pet names (honey, sweetheart, cariño, baby), swearing, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 3.6K ➖⟢ listen to : cariño by the marías summary : you get injured while chasing after an unsub, and luke is there to take care of you.

also i think i was subconsciously inspired by one of my fav luke fics concussed at the end lol so check that one out, too!!

adrenaline pumps through your veins the way it always does during a car chase. this one is entirely chaotic as you weave the large black suv through other innocent cars, trying to keep up with the unsub. luke is in the passenger's seat, feeding you updates and directions from garcia as you step on the gas.

“left up ahead!” luke instructs, and your hands grip the wheel tight as you yank it to the side last minute to avoid hitting traffic. the tires squeal, but you make the turn and find yourself on an open road, houses and office buildings quickly fading into trees. you can see the unsub’s car just as it rounds a corner in front of you, and you increase your speed without the danger of hitting a civilian’s car. for a moment, you’re glad because this makes your capture easier, then that exact thought spikes confusion and worry in your mind.

“why the hell’d he turn here?” you question through gritted teeth, “it would be harder for us to get to him if he kept on the busier roads.”

“shit,” luke curses in agreement, “garcia, what’s past the corner we’re about to round?”

there’s a moment of silence as you continue speeding down the road. “nothing!” comes penelope’s voice through luke’s phone.

“nothing?” he repeats to confirm.

“no, nothing, is there supposed to be something?” garcia asks, worry quickly seeping into her tone.

“we need to slow down,” luke dictates as you’re already easing up on the gas and preparing to step on the brakes. but the speed of the car makes almost no difference as you round the corner, eyes peeled and body tensed to react quickly to anything the unsub might throw your way. maybe he’s stopped the car in attempts to surprise you into breaking or swerving dangerously, likely waiting with a gun in hand to try and shoot you down.

what you don’t expect, what none of you could have expected at all, is the new car that comes barelling into the road, hidden by a driveway to the left, right after the curve.

luke shouts your name in warning, and with a glimpse of the dark grey vehicle in the corner of your eye, you slam back on the gas and swerve further left in hopes that the car catch the tail end of the suv and send the it spinning down the road, rather than t-bone you and send you off the side of the road.

you’re not quick enough, just about no one could be. the grey car was ready for you, and it hits the driver’s side with a sickening crunch before running you right off the road. the airbags inflate almost right on impact and the car lurches to a halt when it bends to the will of a tall, thick tree.

it happens beyond fast, all of it a blur of sharp pain and the mixed voices of luke’s exclaimations and penelope’s worried voice calling your names until there’s nothing at all.

—

when luke wakes, he can still hear penelope’s voice. it takes a long, groggy and painful moment for it to come into focus. he groans as he forces his eyes open.

“luke! luke, oh my god! are you there? can you hear me? luke, answer me, please,” her voice is completely panicked, and oddly far away. luke realizes his phone must have fallen to the ground in the crash. then he remembers there’s been a crash.

“garcia?” he croaks out, trying to sit up from where he’s awoken against the door to turn his pained neck, because the most important thing he remembers then is that you were driving.

“luke! thank god. oh my god. there’s an ambulance on the way. luke, are you okay? i can’t hear you well and where’s y/n? are they okay?” garcia is practically begging for good news as she rambles out questions to him.

“i’m fine,” he calls to her, lying, “concussion, probably. i’m checking on y/n right now.” he’s trying to sound calm for her sake, but he’s silently panicking because he hasn’t heard a sound from your side of the car. you probably took the brunt of the hit, too. he’s terrified of what he’ll see when he finally can get a decent look at you.

there’s blood dripping down your face, reflecting the sunlight seeping in through the broken car windows as it seeps past your closed eyelids. you’re knocked out cold, far colder than he was, and your head slumps against the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. you’re facing him, and he thinks that seeing you like this is his worst nightmare. but his head is starting to clear up, probably only momentarily, and though his whole body aches, he can tell that nothing’s broken. with ample effort, he reaches over to you, calling your name softly, then urgently as he presses his fingers to your pulse point. when he feels the weak throb of blood pumping through your veins, he heaves a sigh of relief.

“they’re alive,” he calls to garcia, “still knocked out,” he explains, the strain in his voice evident. “i need to focus on them, okay garcia? have you called emily?”

“i patched her in while you were still out, she’s on the way with jj and spence. do you promise you’re okay?” she’s still talking like she’s barely breathing.

“garcia, i need you to breathe while i try to wake them up, okay?” it’s taking all of luke’s control to stay calm for garcia as he struggles to be closer to you. he checks for breathing, then for any obvious injuries other than your head. then, he’s stroking the side of your face, so gentle as he calls out your name.

“okay, okay, i can do that,” comes garcia’s muffled voice, but luke’s already practically tuned her out. all he’s worried about is you, the way your face looks calm now, even covered in blood, and the way it’ll inevitably twist in pain when you wake. he keeps calling your name, but there’s no response. he’s too afraid to move you for fear of making any unseen injuries worse.

“garcia, how long for the ambulence?” he calls, panic beginning to seep into his voice.

“it’s three minutes out,” she responds, and if he weren’t so preoccupied with you, he’d be able to picture the fear in her face, the severe furrow of her eyebrows, maybe tears on her cheeks as she prays you’ll be okay. but all he sees is the way you’re stuck in your seat, trapped between the front of the car that hit you, its driver long gone by now, and the front dashboard that’s been pushed forward by the strength of the tree and collision.

the way he says your name is like the pleading of a desperate prayer. his shaky hand is still on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“c’mon, honey. you gotta wake up.”

with that comes the first sign of life outside of your shallow breaths and weak heartbeat. your brows furrow slightly and a quiet groan escapes the back of your throat.

“hey, hey. that’s it, cariño, c’mon. can you hear me?” he begs. he gets another pained whimper and slight flutter of your eyelids, but your eyes still don’t open. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. you’re alright. wake up, y/n. come on, you got this.”

when your eyes finally flit open, everything’s blurry. you blink once, twice, as you try to focus on the voice that you think might be calling your name. it’s familiar, but sounds far away. then you groan and your face contorts in pain. everything hurts, bad. 

“don’t try to move, okay?” those are the first words you catch and can put the meaning together, “you’re alright, the ambulence will be here soon. cariño, can you hear me?”

you try to say yes, but all you can get out is a strangled, “hmm.” luke. you want to say his name as his face comes into focus and you register his gentle hand on your face. the soft brush of his thumb and the gentle sound of his voice are comforting, even as the pain grows with every waking moment.

“that’s good, you’re doing so good,” he reassures. he hates the way your cheek and forehead are shoved uncomfortably against the steering wheel, so as carefully as he can, he maneuvers his other hand to cup your head so you can rest against him instead of the hard, unorgiving surface of the wheel. your face pinches in pain when he does so, but you relax a little once your cheek settles against the soft skin of his palm.

“there you go, that’s a little better, huh? can you see me?”

this time your hum is a little more intelligible as a clear, “mhmm.” you try to keep your eyes and senses focused on luke and his pretty, worried face, but it’s difficult when the pain is so ever present, digging into your ribs and hips and chest and legs and god, your head is pounding, spinning, stabbing, throbbing in pain. luke wants to cry himself when he feels your tears mix with your blood on his hands.

“shhh, you’re gonna be okay. i know it hurts, but the ambulance is almost here, baby,” his words are comforting, and you don’t want him to stop, but it only gets worse.

“luke,” you groan, unable to say much else to express how much pain you’re in and how much you need him to keep saying sweet things and calling you pretty names.

“yeah, i know, i know. ‘m right here, i got you. we’re gonna get you fixed up so soon. just stay with me, okay? ambulance’s almost here.”

“okay,” you agree breathily, but your eyes want to close and try to shut the pain out.

“no, no, stay awake, honey. i need you to stay awake, okay?” he repeats. “you hear that? that’s the ambulance, it’s almost here,” he assures you. sure enough, if you focus, you can hear the sirens as they get closer.

“okay. ‘m awake,” you mumble, pinching your eyebrows together in concentration and squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before focusing your eyes back on luke’s concerned face.

“that’s good, there you go. don’t worry about anything else, i got you. you stay awake, and i’ll take care of the rest, alright?” his gaze leaves you for just a moment as the ambulance pulls up and the emts run out of the vehicle to help.

“yeah,” you respond, and he can feel your jaw clenching against his palm every time you hold back a little cry of pain. he hates it because it’s often, because even now, you’re acting strong for the sake of someone else.

then there’s a paramedic opening the door to the passengers side, requesting for him to get out and to the ambulance.

“not until you get them out,” luke protests, not even bothering to look away from you, “i’m staying with them.”

“sir, i’m sorry, but we need you to get out so we can reach them. that door isn’t going to open until we can move the other car, and we need to stabilize your friend as soon as possible,” the medic explains. luke holds back a curse and clenches his jaw in anger because he knows he needs to leave you, but would rather do anything but that.

“cariño, i have to get out so the medics can help you, but i’ll be back with you the second i can, okay?” he explains to you gently, already slipping his hands away from your head with all the care in the world.

you whine in protest, and though what he’s saying makes sense, you don’t want him to be away from you for even a moment.

“i know. i’m so sorry, but i’ll be right back, okay honey?” his heart is practically breaking as he pulls away from you and stumbles out of the car with the help of a medic. within seconds, another medic has crawled into the car, speaking comfortingly as she assesses the situation up close. and while you appreciate her gentleness, it’s not nearly as comforting as having luke. it’s a task, but the other medic gets luke to sit down on the side of the road a few feet away before climbing into the car from the back seat to help stabilize your neck and get you sitting upright in your seat.

luke wants to throw something or cry, or maybe both, when he hears your pained sounds coming from the car. more than anything, he wants to be near you to hold your hand, but he knows there’s not enough room for him and the medics to do their jobs.

when there’s nothing left for them to do until they can move you, they allow luke to climb back into the car and hold your hand from the back seat after checking him for severe injuries.

“hey, there. i’m back, sweetheart, just like i promised,” he says as he reaches over the console to curl his fingers around yours.

“mhmm,” you hum in relief, unable to really speak with the brace around your neck.

only moments later, more emergency vehicles arrive, including a black suv that luke knows to contain emily, jj, and spencer.

“we’ll be able to get you out so soon, now. and emily, jj, and spence are here to help, too,” luke tells you, hoping to bring you a bit of good news. in your current state, he doesn’t expect you to answer aloud, but he smiles a bit when you squeeze his hand.

—

at the hospital, hours later, luke sits in your dark room, holding your hand and resting his head against your forearm. it was practically hell to him, being made to rest in a hospital bed himself for an hour or two before they let him sit in your room instead. his concussion is mild, much more so than yours. you’re sleeping soundly, a little frown on your face that luke both wishes would go away and can’t help but find it oddly adorable. matt reported to him that you woke up once before, dazed and confused from your injury before falling back asleep.

the darkness of your room helps him, but his head still pounds dully as he wishes you’d wake up so he can say something to you, so he can hear your voice and maybe feel just a little bit less worried about you.

with his head down, he doesn’t see your eyes drift slowly open, but he feels the twitch of your fingers inside his own hand. immediately, he raises his head to check on you, and his gaze softens infinitely when he sees you’re awake.

“hey,” he whispers, “how are you feeling?” 

you take in a raspy breath before speaking, “um… i’m okay, i think. my head hurts,” you pout. “what… what happened?” the nurses had warned that you might suffer from some temporary retrograde amnesia.

“we were in a car crash,” honey, he wants to add.

you inhale sharply, “oh. are you okay?” you sound so worried and sweet that luke wants to soothe you with a kiss to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere you’d let him. he settles for squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“i’m very okay,” he reassures, happily glossing over the fact that his head hurts, too. “that’s why i’m here, to take care of you, because you have a bad concussion.”

“oh,” you repeat, and from the way you’re talking and the tone of your voice, luke concludes that you’re still clearly affected by the concussion, “is everyone else okay? we’re on a case, right?”

“yeah, we’re on a case,” he has to hold back from the pet names again, “and everyone’s okay, just a little worried about you.”

your brow furrows at that, and he thinks your eyes grow a little shiny from tears. “don’t wan’ anybody to worry about me,” you fuss.

“oh, sweetheart,” it slips out so easy and natural that he can’t hold it back, “we just want to be sure that you’re okay,” he explains, so soft and sweet, “but since you’ll be just fine, we won’t worry too much, okay?”

“okay,” you sigh. the pout stays stuck to your lips, but you don’t protest anymore and he thinks tears are avoidable, now.

“i’m gonna grab a doctor to check on you,” luke tells you as he begins to stand and let his hand slip away from yours. your hand tightens around his and the tears spring right back into your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whine all sweet and simple.

“i promise i’ll be right back, but i need to get a doctor to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”

you shake your head, then squeeze your eyes shut in pain. that action sends a few tears out and rolling down the sides of your face. when your eyes open, a few more drops spill out as your breathing grows a little heavy and panicked.

luke settles right back down at your side and squeezes your hand with renewed urgency, “okay, okay. i got it, i’m here.” he brings his other hand to the side of your face, ever so gentle to avoid hurting you as he wipes at your tears, “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

he sighs, but his face softens when you relax into his touch. “will you tell me when it’s okay for me to get a doctor? i promise it’ll only take a second, and it’ll help me not to worry about you,” he adds.

this makes your expression turn conflicted. it’s plain to him that you’re mulling over the options carefully in that pretty little head of yours.

after long consideration, you relent, “okay. but you can’t be gone long, please.”

“i won’t, i promise. i’ll be right back, okay?”

“okay,” you agree, but your voice is so sad that luke would rather do anything than leave your side. your fingers chase after his as he gets up, even when your muscles are tired, pained, and weak.

luke flags down a nurse, who gets a doctor to show up within a few minutes. she comes and confirms that your status is the same as before, all you need is rest and to be extra careful goin forward. you sigh in relief when she says that you should be discharged tomorrow or the day after, and you’re cleared to fly soon after that as long as you’re continually resting. your memory from around the time before the crash might remain spotty, but should clear up at least a little with time and proper care.

“luke,” you mumble once the doctor’s gone.

“yeah? can i get you something? water?” he asks, all caring and concerned.

“no. well, water would be nice in a minute, but luke,” you implore, “i jus’ really like you, and i wish that you’d kiss me. i’m pretty sure i’ve wished that for a while. but i definitely wish it now.”

those words nearly knock the breath out of his lungs, but he has to recompose himself quickly to deal with the fact that you’re only saying so because you’re severely concussed.

“i also wish you were my boyfriend,” you continue.

“i really like you, too,” he says, beginning gentle and truthful to ease into the fact that he can’t kiss you right now.

“so you’ll kiss me?” you slur hopefully. he sighs because he knows his answer probably won’t come across well in your current state.

“i will if that’s what you still want when your head clears up a little more, okay?” he concedes. he means it, too. he really would like to kiss you.

“but not now?” you sound so disappointed that luke is having trouble holding back. your eyes are shiny again and he wants to kiss the tears away.

“i’m sorry, but not yet.” the pronounced pout on your lips does not help his case.

“do you not want to?” you ask helplessly, and there’s tears slipping down your face again.

“oh, hey, don’t cry. i do, i promise i do, but i can’t right now,” he explains without making any headway in calming you down. you don’t seem to believe him.

he stands to lean over you and lay both of his hands against your face to wipe the tears gently awake. from the pinch of your brows and tightness of your lips, he thinks you’re probably crying from the pain, too. he shushes you softly as he presses a whisper of a kiss to your forehead when he can’t hold back from doing so anymore.

“it’s okay. don’t cry,” he mumbles into the bandage wrapped around your head. for good measure, he kisses the skin of your forehead again, since the first one seemed to calm you down significantly. it appears that the contact of his lips to your skin, regardless of whether it was on your own lips or not, was enough to sedate and please you, because the tears have stopped and there’s a little smile on your face when he looks.

“can you hug me, too?” you ask sweetly.

“of course i can,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around you, as careful and soft as possible. 

he holds you until your hand drops from his shoulder and you say plainly, “i’m tired.” he moves away slightly, brushing his thumb sweetly under your eye before he settles back down on the chair.

“alright. why don’t you go to sleep, then? i’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”

your smile turns a little dopey at that word. “cariño,” you slur out. “i hope you’ll kiss me then, cariño.” with that, you send his heart into a flutter as your eyes drift closed and your breathing evens out.

he whispers, “i will, cariño, i will.”

[samsblades]

cariño — luke alvez

cw : gn!bau!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, car crash, mentions of blood and injuries, concussion, pet names (honey, sweetheart, cariño, baby), swearing, only light editing, 3.6K.

summary : you get injured while chasing after an unsub, and luke is there to take care of you. also i think i was subconsciously inspired by one of my fav luke fics concussed at the end lol so check that one out, too!!

adrenaline pumps through your veins the way it always does during a car chase. this one is entirely chaotic as you weave the large black suv through other innocent cars, trying to keep up with the unsub. luke is in the passenger’s seat, feeding you updates and directions from garcia as you step on the gas.

“left up ahead!” luke instructs, and your hands grip the wheel tight as you yank it to the side last minute to avoid hitting traffic. the tires squeal, but you make the turn and find yourself on an open road, houses and office buildings quickly fading into trees. you can see the unsub’s car just as it rounds a corner in front of you, and you increase your speed without the danger of hitting a civilian’s car. for a moment, you’re glad because this makes your capture easier, then that exact thought spikes confusion and worry in your mind.

“why the hell’d he turn here?” you question through gritted teeth, “it would be harder for us to get to him if he kept on the busier roads.”

“shit,” luke curses in agreement, “garcia, what’s past the corner we’re about to round?”

there’s a moment of silence as you continue speeding down the road. “nothing!” comes penelope’s voice through luke’s phone.

“nothing?” he repeats to confirm.

“no, nothing, is there supposed to be something?” garcia asks, worry quickly seeping into her tone.

“we need to slow down,” luke dictates as you’re already easing up on the gas and preparing to step on the brakes. but the speed of the car makes almost no difference as you round the corner, eyes peeled and body tensed to react quickly to anything the unsub might throw your way. maybe he’s stopped the car in attempts to surprise you into breaking or swerving dangerously, likely waiting with a gun in hand to try and shoot you down.

what you don’t expect, what none of you could have expected at all, is the new car that comes barelling into the road, hidden by a driveway to the left, right after the curve.

luke shouts your name in warning, and with a glimpse of the dark grey vehicle in the corner of your eye, you slam back on the gas and swerve further left in hopes that the car catch the tail end of the suv and send the it spinning down the road, rather than t-bone you and send you off the side of the road.

you’re not quick enough, just about no one could be. the grey car was ready for you, and it hits the driver’s side with a sickening crunch before running you right off the road. the airbags inflate almost right on impact and the car lurches to a halt when it bends to the will of a tall, thick tree.

it happens beyond fast, all of it a blur of sharp pain and the mixed voices of luke’s exclaimations and penelope’s worried voice calling your names until there’s nothing at all.

—

when luke wakes, he can still hear penelope’s voice. it takes a long, groggy and painful moment for it to come into focus. he groans as he forces his eyes open.

“luke! luke, oh my god! are you there? can you hear me? luke, answer me, please,” her voice is completely panicked, and oddly far away. luke realizes his phone must have fallen to the ground in the crash. then he remembers there’s been a crash.

“garcia?” he croaks out, trying to sit up from where he’s awoken against the door to turn his pained neck, because the most important thing he remembers then is that you were driving.

“luke! thank god. oh my god. there’s an ambulance on the way. luke, are you okay? i can’t hear you well and where’s y/n? are they okay?” garcia is practically begging for good news as she rambles out questions to him.

“i’m fine,” he calls to her, lying, “concussion, probably. i’m checking on y/n right now.” he’s trying to sound calm for her sake, but he’s silently panicking because he hasn’t heard a sound from your side of the car. you probably took the brunt of the hit, too. he’s terrified of what he’ll see when he finally can get a decent look at you.

there’s blood dripping down your face, reflecting the sunlight seeping in through the broken car windows as it seeps past your closed eyelids. you’re knocked out cold, far colder than he was, and your head slumps against the deflated airbag on the steering wheel. you’re facing him, and he thinks that seeing you like this is his worst nightmare. but his head is starting to clear up, probably only momentarily, and though his whole body aches, he can tell that nothing’s broken. with ample effort, he reaches over to you, calling your name softly, then urgently as he presses his fingers to your pulse point. when he feels the weak throb of blood pumping through your veins, he heaves a sigh of relief.

“they’re alive,” he calls to garcia, “still knocked out,” he explains, the strain in his voice evident. “i need to focus on them, okay garcia? have you called emily?”

“i patched her in while you were still out, she’s on the way with jj and spence. do you promise you’re okay?” she’s still talking like she’s barely breathing.

“garcia, i need you to breathe while i try to wake them up, okay?” it’s taking all of luke’s control to stay calm for garcia as he struggles to be closer to you. he checks for breathing, then for any obvious injuries other than your head. then, he’s stroking the side of your face, so gentle as he calls out your name.

“okay, okay, i can do that,” comes garcia’s muffled voice, but luke’s already practically tuned her out. all he’s worried about is you, the way your face looks calm now, even covered in blood, and the way it’ll inevitably twist in pain when you wake. he keeps calling your name, but there’s no response. he’s too afraid to move you for fear of making any unseen injuries worse.

“garcia, how long for the ambulence?” he calls, panic beginning to seep into his voice.

“it’s three minutes out,” she responds, and if he weren’t so preoccupied with you, he’d be able to picture the fear in her face, the severe furrow of her eyebrows, maybe tears on her cheeks as she prays you’ll be okay. but all he sees is the way you’re stuck in your seat, trapped between the front of the car that hit you, its driver long gone by now, and the front dashboard that’s been pushed forward by the strength of the tree and collision.

the way he says your name is like the pleading of a desperate prayer. his shaky hand is still on the side of your face, the pad of his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“c’mon, honey. you gotta wake up.”

with that comes the first sign of life outside of your shallow breaths and weak heartbeat. your brows furrow slightly and a quiet groan escapes the back of your throat.

“hey, hey. that’s it, cariño, c’mon. can you hear me?” he begs. he gets another pained whimper and slight flutter of your eyelids, but your eyes still don’t open. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. you’re alright. wake up, y/n. come on, you got this.”

when your eyes finally flit open, everything’s blurry. you blink once, twice, as you try to focus on the voice that you think might be calling your name. it’s familiar, but sounds far away. then you groan and your face contorts in pain. everything hurts, bad. 

“don’t try to move, okay?” those are the first words you catch and can put the meaning together, “you’re alright, the ambulence will be here soon. cariño, can you hear me?”

you try to say yes, but all you can get out is a strangled, “hmm.” luke. you want to say his name as his face comes into focus and you register his gentle hand on your face. the soft brush of his thumb and the gentle sound of his voice are comforting, even as the pain grows with every waking moment.

“that’s good, you’re doing so good,” he reassures. he hates the way your cheek and forehead are shoved uncomfortably against the steering wheel, so as carefully as he can, he maneuvers his other hand to cup your head so you can rest against him instead of the hard, unorgiving surface of the wheel. your face pinches in pain when he does so, but you relax a little once your cheek settles against the soft skin of his palm.

“there you go, that’s a little better, huh? can you see me?”

this time your hum is a little more intelligible as a clear, “mhmm.” you try to keep your eyes and senses focused on luke and his pretty, worried face, but it’s difficult when the pain is so ever present, digging into your ribs and hips and chest and legs and god, your head is pounding, spinning, stabbing, throbbing in pain. luke wants to cry himself when he feels your tears mix with your blood on his hands.

“shhh, you’re gonna be okay. i know it hurts, but the ambulance is almost here, baby,” his words are comforting, and you don’t want him to stop, but it only gets worse.

“luke,” you groan, unable to say much else to express how much pain you’re in and how much you need him to keep saying sweet things and calling you pretty names.

“yeah, i know, i know. ‘m right here, i got you. we’re gonna get you fixed up so soon. just stay with me, okay? ambulance’s almost here.”

“okay,” you agree breathily, but your eyes want to close and try to shut the pain out.

“no, no, stay awake, honey. i need you to stay awake, okay?” he repeats. “you hear that? that’s the ambulance, it’s almost here,” he assures you. sure enough, if you focus, you can hear the sirens as they get closer.

“okay. ‘m awake,” you mumble, pinching your eyebrows together in concentration and squeezing your eyes shut for just a moment before focusing your eyes back on luke’s concerned face.

“that’s good, there you go. don’t worry about anything else, i got you. you stay awake, and i’ll take care of the rest, alright?” his gaze leaves you for just a moment as the ambulance pulls up and the emts run out of the vehicle to help.

“yeah,” you respond, and he can feel your jaw clenching against his palm every time you hold back a little cry of pain. he hates it because it’s often, because even now, you’re acting strong for the sake of someone else.

then there’s a paramedic opening the door to the passengers side, requesting for him to get out and to the ambulance.

“not until you get them out,” luke protests, not even bothering to look away from you, “i’m staying with them.”

“sir, i’m sorry, but we need you to get out so we can reach them. that door isn’t going to open until we can move the other car, and we need to stabilize your friend as soon as possible,” the medic explains. luke holds back a curse and clenches his jaw in anger because he knows he needs to leave you, but would rather do anything but that.

“cariño, i have to get out so the medics can help you, but i’ll be back with you the second i can, okay?” he explains to you gently, already slipping his hands away from your head with all the care in the world.

you whine in protest, and though what he’s saying makes sense, you don’t want him to be away from you for even a moment.

“i know. i’m so sorry, but i’ll be right back, okay honey?” his heart is practically breaking as he pulls away from you and stumbles out of the car with the help of a medic. within seconds, another medic has crawled into the car, speaking comfortingly as she assesses the situation up close. and while you appreciate her gentleness, it’s not nearly as comforting as having luke. it’s a task, but the other medic gets luke to sit down on the side of the road a few feet away before climbing into the car from the back seat to help stabilize your neck and get you sitting upright in your seat.

luke wants to throw something or cry, or maybe both, when he hears your pained sounds coming from the car. more than anything, he wants to be near you to hold your hand, but he knows there’s not enough room for him and the medics to do their jobs.

when there’s nothing left for them to do until they can move you, they allow luke to climb back into the car and hold your hand from the back seat after checking him for severe injuries.

“hey, there. i’m back, sweetheart, just like i promised,” he says as he reaches over the console to curl his fingers around yours.

“mhmm,” you hum in relief, unable to really speak with the brace around your neck.

only moments later, more emergency vehicles arrive, including a black suv that luke knows to contain emily, jj, and spencer.

“we’ll be able to get you out so soon, now. and emily, jj, and spence are here to help, too,” luke tells you, hoping to bring you a bit of good news. in your current state, he doesn’t expect you to answer aloud, but he smiles a bit when you squeeze his hand.

—

at the hospital, hours later, luke sits in your dark room, holding your hand and resting his head against your forearm. it was practically hell to him, being made to rest in a hospital bed himself for an hour or two before they let him sit in your room instead. his concussion is mild, much more so than yours. you’re sleeping soundly, a little frown on your face that luke both wishes would go away and can’t help but find it oddly adorable. matt reported to him that you woke up once before, dazed and confused from your injury before falling back asleep.

the darkness of your room helps him, but his head still pounds dully as he wishes you’d wake up so he can say something to you, so he can hear your voice and maybe feel just a little bit less worried about you.

with his head down, he doesn’t see your eyes drift slowly open, but he feels the twitch of your fingers inside his own hand. immediately, he raises his head to check on you, and his gaze softens infinitely when he sees you’re awake.

“hey,” he whispers, “how are you feeling?” 

you take in a raspy breath before speaking, “um… i’m okay, i think. my head hurts,” you pout. “what… what happened?” the nurses had warned that you might suffer from some temporary retrograde amnesia.

“we were in a car crash,” honey, he wants to add.

you inhale sharply, “oh. are you okay?” you sound so worried and sweet that luke wants to soothe you with a kiss to your cheeks, your forehead, anywhere you’d let him. he settles for squeezing your hand comfortingly.

“i’m very okay,” he reassures, happily glossing over the fact that his head hurts, too. “that’s why i’m here, to take care of you, because you have a bad concussion.”

“oh,” you repeat, and from the way you’re talking and the tone of your voice, luke concludes that you’re still clearly affected by the concussion, “is everyone else okay? we’re on a case, right?”

“yeah, we’re on a case,” he has to hold back from the pet names again, “and everyone’s okay, just a little worried about you.”

your brow furrows at that, and he thinks your eyes grow a little shiny from tears. “don’t wan’ anybody to worry about me,” you fuss.

“oh, sweetheart,” it slips out so easy and natural that he can’t hold it back, “we just want to be sure that you’re okay,” he explains, so soft and sweet, “but since you’ll be just fine, we won’t worry too much, okay?”

“okay,” you sigh. the pout stays stuck to your lips, but you don’t protest anymore and he thinks tears are avoidable, now.

“i’m gonna grab a doctor to check on you,” luke tells you as he begins to stand and let his hand slip away from yours. your hand tightens around his and the tears spring right back into your eyes.

“don’t go,” you whine all sweet and simple.

“i promise i’ll be right back, but i need to get a doctor to make sure everything’s alright, okay?”

you shake your head, then squeeze your eyes shut in pain. that action sends a few tears out and rolling down the sides of your face. when your eyes open, a few more drops spill out as your breathing grows a little heavy and panicked.

luke settles right back down at your side and squeezes your hand with renewed urgency, “okay, okay. i got it, i’m here.” he brings his other hand to the side of your face, ever so gentle to avoid hurting you as he wipes at your tears, “i’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

he sighs, but his face softens when you relax into his touch. “will you tell me when it’s okay for me to get a doctor? i promise it’ll only take a second, and it’ll help me not to worry about you,” he adds.

this makes your expression turn conflicted. it’s plain to him that you’re mulling over the options carefully in that pretty little head of yours.

after long consideration, you relent, “okay. but you can’t be gone long, please.”

“i won’t, i promise. i’ll be right back, okay?”

“okay,” you agree, but your voice is so sad that luke would rather do anything than leave your side. your fingers chase after his as he gets up, even when your muscles are tired, pained, and weak.

luke flags down a nurse, who gets a doctor to show up within a few minutes. she comes and confirms that your status is the same as before, all you need is rest and to be extra careful goin forward. you sigh in relief when she says that you should be discharged tomorrow or the day after, and you’re cleared to fly soon after that as long as you’re continually resting. your memory from around the time before the crash might remain spotty, but should clear up at least a little with time and proper care.

“luke,” you mumble once the doctor’s gone.

“yeah? can i get you something? water?” he asks, all caring and concerned.

“no. well, water would be nice in a minute, but luke,” you implore, “i jus’ really like you, and i wish that you’d kiss me. i’m pretty sure i’ve wished that for a while. but i definitely wish it now.”

those words nearly knock the breath out of his lungs, but he has to recompose himself quickly to deal with the fact that you’re only saying so because you’re severely concussed.

“i also wish you were my boyfriend,” you continue.

“i really like you, too,” he says, beginning gentle and truthful to ease into the fact that he can’t kiss you right now.

“so you’ll kiss me?” you slur hopefully. he sighs because he knows his answer probably won’t come across well in your current state.

“i will if that’s what you still want when your head clears up a little more, okay?” he concedes. he means it, too. he really would like to kiss you.

“but not now?” you sound so disappointed that luke is having trouble holding back. your eyes are shiny again and he wants to kiss the tears away.

“i’m sorry, but not yet.” the pronounced pout on your lips does not help his case.

“do you not want to?” you ask helplessly, and there’s tears slipping down your face again.

“oh, hey, don’t cry. i do, i promise i do, but i can’t right now,” he explains without making any headway in calming you down. you don’t seem to believe him.

he stands to lean over you and lay both of his hands against your face to wipe the tears gently awake. from the pinch of your brows and tightness of your lips, he thinks you’re probably crying from the pain, too. he shushes you softly as he presses a whisper of a kiss to your forehead when he can’t hold back from doing so anymore.

“it’s okay. don’t cry,” he mumbles into the bandage wrapped around your head. for good measure, he kisses the skin of your forehead again, since the first one seemed to calm you down significantly. it appears that the contact of his lips to your skin, regardless of whether it was on your own lips or not, was enough to sedate and please you, because the tears have stopped and there’s a little smile on your face when he looks.

“can you hug me, too?” you ask sweetly.

“of course i can,” he confirms as he wraps his arms around you, as careful and soft as possible. 

he holds you until your hand drops from his shoulder and you say plainly, “i’m tired.” he moves away slightly, brushing his thumb sweetly under your eye before he settles back down on the chair.

“alright. why don’t you go to sleep, then? i’ll be here when you wake up, cariño.”

your smile turns a little dopey at that word. “cariño,” you slur out. “i hope you’ll kiss me then, cariño.” with that, you send his heart into a flutter as your eyes drift closed and your breathing evens out.

he whispers, “i will, cariño, i will.”

[highwayphantoms]

For DADWC: "I remember all of them" from the adventuring party prompts, for Hawke and Tabris.

Pulled this one out of the archives because it sparked an idea that I engaged with instead of sleeping, lol. For @dadrunkwriting here's Hawke & Tabris during the events of Inquisition.

Words: 1090 Warnings: Blight is bad for your health.

-

Sometimes, she looked at Tabris and wondered how much of the woman was really left. There were days when Tabris was just as coherent and sharp around the edges as Serafina was, but the longer she’d known the woman, the fewer those days had become. More often, she ranged from mostly lucid to completely catatonic.

In all truth, if not for Anders, Serafina would have written her off a long time ago. Whatever Tabris had been once—an elf, a Warden, a hero—was gone, twisted into the blighted creature that sat on the opposite side of the fire. Not quite darkspawn, but not an elf anymore, either. Even on the good days, her instincts screamed at her to run.

While this hadn’t been a good day, it was far from being one of the worst. Tabris had, mostly, been coherent and as cooperative as she ever was (which wasn’t much, though Anders said that was normal for her). After night had fallen, though, she’d lapsed back into that unnerving state of catatonia: still sitting upright, but hardly ever blinking, much less moving. She said nothing, responded to nothing. If not for the fact that she still breathed, she might have been a statue.

Serafina tried to ignore her as best she could. The road to Adamant was a long one, and they still had a good week of travel ahead of them. She couldn’t fathom why Tabris had insisted on going with them, and of course, she couldn’t ask, either. Instead, she focused her attention on things that she could manage: painstakingly mending a tear in one of her shirts by the firelight, listening for any sign of trouble, watching Bear doze next to her. Anders was out of sight, asleep in their shared tent, and not for the first time since the sun had set, she wished he’d wake up so she’d have someone to talk to.

Instead, she hummed while she worked on her torn shirt, an old melody she dimly recalled her father singing to her when she was small. So long ago now. His death long ago became an old, dull ache, but even the oldest of griefs still found the cracks in her heart. Spread your wings, my love / We all must learn to leave the nest. / But when you are through—

“—be sure to come home and rest,” a rasping voice said, with just the barest touch of the tune.

Serafina’s hands stilled and her eyes shot to where Tabris still sat perfectly still opposite her. Though still unmoving, the Warden’s eyes gleamed in the firelight, suddenly alive. “You know that song?” she asked.

Tabris did not answer right away, but she so rarely did. After a significant pause, she said, “Yes.” She paused again, though not for as long, before she added, “Elves sing our children lullabies, too.”

Once, Serafina suspected, that would have been sardonic or biting. Instead, it was simply… flat. She knew what to do with sharp edges and bitter words, but Tabris was… it was much like speaking to a rock wall. No matter what you said, it would not react, nor would it give you anything to work with. “I’m just… surprised you remember it, is all,” Serafina said, and turned her eyes back to her half-mended shirt. At her side, Bear was wide awake, every muscle tensed; she set a hand on his back in an attempt at reassurance. Though he was now an old dog by any measure, sometimes it was easy to forget that he wasn’t as fast and strong as he had once been.

“Likely I remember more than you think,” Tabris croaked as she finally moved for the first time in hours, her joints audibly cracking as she lifted her arms and stretched.

“Do you remember how we met?” Serafina asked, careful to keep her tone even. There were a handful of questions that she and Anders had developed to determine how much of the elf’s mind was intact at any given time, but in her more lucid moments, Tabris had started to catch on to their motives. In a warped sense, it made the questions even more effective: the harder Tabris tried to evade questions or the more combative she got, the more lucid it meant she was.

Tabris made a sound that might have been a laugh, once. Instead it was more like a cough. “Near the ruins of Ostagar,” she said after several long seconds. “You were—hiding. I told you it was my hiding place. I didn’t tell you I’d only been there two days.”

Serafina swallowed a laugh. That had never come out before. The rest, though, was accurate—so, enough of Tabris to answer questions accurately, not enough to be difficult. She could work with that. Before she could ask a second question, however, Tabris asked, “Where is Anders?”

“Sleeping,” Serafina replied. “Which you should also do.”

Tabris frowned. “I lost time again.”

“Only a few hours, if that makes you feel any better,” Serafina replied.

“It does not.”

She smiled wryly down at her torn shirt. “Then you remember your other Wardens, I assume. And the people who traveled with you during the Blight?”

“I remember them all,” Tabris said flatly. “I… wish I could speak to them again.”

“I mean… some of them are with the Inquisition. Leliana and Morrigan.”

Tabris huffed. “Not them.”

“Who, then?”

A long, slow inhale. Then an equally slow exhale. Finally: “Alistair. Zevran. Nathaniel.”

Strange, Serafina mused, that she’d met all three in or near Kirkwall. “You saw Nathaniel a few months ago,” she said.

“Things have changed,” Tabris said, and did not elaborate.

She was not the most socially adept, but she knew when a conversation was over. Aware that further prodding would get her nowhere, Serafina turned her attention back to mending her shirt—while keeping an eye on Tabris to ensure the blighted Warden didn’t wander off. Not so long ago, she could be trusted to handle herself, but… less so, now. Thankfully, Tabris showed no inclination to get up and leave—though she also made no attempt to get up and try to sleep. Instead, they both continued to sit by the fire until Anders emerged from their lone tent in the early hours of the morning.

Her watch over, Serafina stopped long enough to claim a kiss from him, then herded her dog into the tent for a well-deserved rest. After daybreak, they would be on the move again—but until then, blessed sleep.

[pannman]

Hi! Request here!

Could you do a reaction fic with the hotel ensemble or the overlords to a reader who, while an argument or something was going on about the new extermination schedule, just nonchalantly drops this bombshell.

“Ugh, this is just so like heaven! I mean, I pulled stunts for years trying to get kicked out of there and all it took was (insert wimpy reason)? They’re so damn fickle! It’s just, hello, you can deal with me graffitiing porn of myself all over heaven but that’s what gets their goat?”

Thank you! I hope you have fun with it!

Lol that would be interesting

Warning major spoilers for episodes 5 and 6!!!

Cw: mentions of drugs, mention of sex, mention of blackmail, and swearing

Reader accidentally reveals their a fallen angel

Hazbin hotel reactions

Charlie 👑❤️

would be really curious wanting to bombard you with questions

Why would you want leave heaven?

What's it really like?

What good things did you do in life?

Why did you get kicked out for something so small?

Of course if this makes you uncomfortable just say so. She'll try to respect that but it's difficult for her to resist since it's heaven she's been trying to get through to

She'd love for you to help her redeem souls and teach them to be good since you actually made it into heaven

But she'd keep your secret if that's what you wanted

Vaggie 😇

would be shocked that guys have so much in common

She would be a little apprehensive at first because of her trust issues. The last time she saw another Angel things did not end well

But you guys would be bonding in no time. She'd be glad to have someone who knows a little bit of what she went through and understands what heaven is really like.

Although you got kicked out on purpose and she didn't, she doesn't regret the choices she made and you guys definitely are on the same page

She'd keep your secret as long as you'd keep hers

Husker 🐱♣️♦️♥️♠️

To be honest he's the bartender he probably already knew because you got drunk and told him already

And you don't remember so you're confused as to why he's not surprised

If it is news to him he's probably chill about it. Might make fun of you for the dumb reason you got kicked out but he'll offer you a drink

He would probably keep it a secret

Angel 🩷🕷

He would be surprised as anyone would but afterwards he'd have questions

What's hell like?

How much crack would I get away with?

How much fucking would I get away with?

Is there jobs for porn stars in hell?

He just wants to know what his life would be like up there

And honestly he pretends like he's cracking jokes but he is actually interested in learning more

He would definitely tease you about what you said. Something that small and stupid? And you did way WORSE things? All to get yourself sent to hell

He wouldn't take much convincing to keep it a secret for you though. Especially if you guys are friends

Sir pentious 🐍

might just think you're joking but if he realizes your not he might ask you how powerful you are.

He wouldn't likely try to use the information against you but he's not the best at keeping secrets so expect the entire hotel to know within a day

He might even try to keep his mouth shut but he never has any gossip and he feels left out sometimes

Niffty 🔥🔪

"Are there bad boys in heaven?" She says before getting distracted and running off before you answer

You start to think she literally forgot when all of a sudden she casually brings it up in front of everyone

She's a sweet chaotic gremlin but she has no discretion

Alastor 🦌🥩

He would be surprised but super good at hiding it. He'd probably act like he thinks it's hilarious

"You ended up here for what?"

"And you were trying to get kicked out?"

"Oh, that's just sad!" He would laugh at you

He'd be curious about how powerful you are and maybe observe you in secret just to see. And if you have power he'd probably try to make deal with you

Keep your secret though? Let's be realistic he'd blackmail you

[becauseimanicequeen]

Ming and Joe's Colors in My Stand-In, Part 2: Black and Blue

Part 1: Overview

Part 3: Red and Green

Part 4: Yellow/Gold

Part 5: Brown

Part 6: Random Color Moments

I received an ask a couple of days ago asking me about Joe and Ming's colors (which is something I've been thinking about for a while) and decided to answer that question in a separate post (which turned into a series). So, here I am.

I previously stated in my overview in part 1 of this series that:

Ming is black and red.

Joe is blue and green.

Yellow/gold is significant to both.

Brown also has some significance.

As you can tell by the title of this post, I'll focus on Ming's black and Joe's blue in this one.

Let's start with Ming since black is his primary color while Joe's blue is more subtle.

Brooding and mystery are some aspects that are associated with black.

Ming is the moody brooder who never smiles at anyone (except the people he loves: Tong, his sister, and Joe).

There's also a mystery around Ming. We don't know that much about his past or his family. He's very private and tight-lipped about his personal life. No surprise there, considering his family home is dark.

All that black on the walls, staircase, cabinetry, etc., gives the vibe that Ming's family is formal and strict. He's used to the black and its association with his family, it's a part of him, but he might not necessarily like it (hence his moody, spoiled brat tendencies, lol). However...

As we all know, the night is dark/black due to the lack of sunlight (hence why the night is universally connected to the color black). That's also where the symbolism of mystery comes from because what we can see during the day "disappears" (at least from view) during the night.

Interestingly, Ming becomes more himself during the night. He lets some of his walls down because he's comfortable to do so (arguably because he grew up surrounded by the color and is familiar with it).

We can see it in his actions. For example when he's overcome by his desire and kisses Joe on the first day they meet...

And when he laughs (not just smiles, he laughs) at/with Joe during the darkness of night, when he's in his feelings while missing Joe and asks when he's coming back (Ming who never has to ask for anything), and when he's pissed at Tong for overstepping the boundaries Ming has clearly set up for him.

And look at Ming wearing blue in that middle picture. That's one of Joe's colors. An obvious declaration (at least to me) that he's fallen for Joe even though he was obsessed with Tong during most of his relationship with Joe 1.0.

Blue is associated with, among other things, sadness and loyalty. It's often associated with water and, therefore, deals with, for example, deep and/or rushing emotions (think the deep blue sea and a rushing waterfall, to give some examples).

From what we've seen so far, Joe is definitely a sad person. Joe 1.0 lost his family at a very young age and has been lonely for a long time. We often see him surrounded by blue when he's in some kind of emotional state. For example when he wakes up at the hospital in a new body, when he's heartbroken and tells Ming to pack his shit and move out, and when he's at the hospital because Joe 2.0's mom is sick.

Joe being blue isn't always obvious. I wrote in the overview in part 1 of this series that the blue shows up in subtle ways around Joe, and that's true. It's not screamingly obvious.

One of the reasons I was convinced that blue is one of Joe's colors is because of the loyalty aspect of it. And that's the loyalty other characters have towards him.

Like when Wut and Sol (who are, arguably, the most loyal characters to Joe that we've seen so far, even though I have personal beef with stalkerish Sol, lol) just talked about Joe 1.0 before Joe 2.0 came into the office, and when Sol wants to help Joe with money (even though Joe doesn't accept it).

But also when Ming is wearing blue in that image above when he's in his emotions and asks when Joe will come back home, when we see how Ming is surrounded by the blue daily in his new condo (and wearing a blue robe while asking Joe 2.0 if he died on the same day Joe 1.0 had his accident), how Ming still has that blue watch he got from Joe, and how Ming's room has a blue light when he has his first, big, emotional fight with Joe 2.0 (while acting in the same way as he did with Joe 1.0).

Even though Ming is fucked up might not have the best way to express or show how much he cares about Joe, he's definitely loyal to Joe. To the point where he will do anything to find him again (and constantly remind everyone else that Joe isn't dead).

I mean, the moody brooder who didn't want anything to do with the entertainment industry because he didn't like the spotlight (he was more comfortable in the dark), has clearly done the complete opposite to make sure Joe knows Ming is looking for him. Some might call it obsession, some might call it desperation, and some might call it dedication. I call it loyalty (to the pursuit of finding Joe and to Joe himself).

What's interesting about black and blue is that they have some overlapping aspects/symbolism (which might not be that surprising considering dark blue is often mistaken for black).

Black is also associated with protectiveness which goes well with blue's association with loyalty and trust. Blue is also associated with depression while black is associated with brooding and pessimism.

Ming and Joe will clearly always have a relationship with deep emotions. Sometimes dark and coming out in a rush (like a waterfall that can't be stopped), sometimes more restrained and calm. But it will always be there.

Just like their devotion to each other (when Ming gets his shit together, lol), Joe's loyalty to Ming, and Ming's protectiveness of Joe (which we saw a glimpse of in his reaction to Tong mentioning Joe's name).

Whenever they get their shit together (mostly Ming), I feel like they will find a balance that suits them. Because their colors are clearly showing they're on the same page.

Part 1: Overview

Part 3: Red and Green

Part 4: Yellow/Gold

Part 5: Brown

Part 6: Random Color Moments

[darlingpoppet]

Fic wrap-up 2024

Fic Wrap-up 2023 here

I delayed posting this until the last possible moment because I was hoping I could get a bit more writing in under the wire so I could include it in the year total word count, but alas it wasn’t meant to be :’) I filled out this post with several more questions compared to last year, since I did see that year-end writing ask meme going around but I decided to be a bit of a rebel and just go ahead to answer all of the questions I wanted to answer. Hope that’s ok!!

Fics published this year/total words:

See No ****, Hear No **** — Patrochilles (6430)

Where The Dead Forget ch 7-8 — Patrochilles (27500)

In Full Bloom — Persenyx (2838)

(Pray, Love, Remember — Mobuhan - not yet on AO3)(3966)

Liminal Spaces ch 1-5 — PZA (32026)

My Heart’s Your Future — Patrochilles (3227)

(Closest To My Heart Jp ver — PZA - not yet on AO3) (17779)

Total: 93766 (AO3 only: 72021)

(I ALMOST published 100k this year I was SO CLOSE haha)

5 fanfics with the most kudos in 2024:

Closest To My Heart (317)

Flourishing Into Greatness (229)

Strain (227)

Pressed Flowers (216)

Where The Dead Forget (216)

Did this for all-time rather than just 2024 fics since I thought it’s more interesting. Flourishing and Strain have been locked in fierce competition for the number two spot for most of the year lol. WTDF is the only one that has fallen out of the top 3 since last year but it’s still in the top 5 and might surpass Pressed Flowers soon (probably it will once I get around to updating it lol.) I also think it’s interesting that all of my top fics have at least 200 kudos now and so that really means a lot to me that new people are apparently continuing to discover and enjoy my stories! 🥹🙏

Most popular fic this year

If judging by kudos, then it’s In Full Bloom (hooray, sapphics win!) If going by comments, then definitely Liminal Spaces (hooray, erotic love triangles win!) Both are perfectly deserving, I’m good with either one =)

Least popular fic this year

If judging by kudos only it’s My Heart’s Your Future but that’s kind of understandable since it’s a side story whose broader context is in a different, longer, multi-chapter fic. Yet I was pleasantly surprised by how much feedback it still received so honestly I can’t complain AT ALL. And if judging by comments, technically I received 0 AO3 comments for See No ****, Hear No **** but tbh the only response that mattered to me was my giftee’s, so no complaints there either =)

Fic(s) you completed this year

Five of them!

See No ****, Hear No ****

In Full Bloom

Pray, Love, Remember

My Heart’s Your Future

Closest To My Heart Jp ver

The fact that Liminal Spaces is NOT on this list kind of bums me out since I spent a significant part of the year working on it… but oh well, at least it was only because it was necessary for me to complete a different cool & fun project I wanted to do before a certain deadline. Time is a construct anyway, right? 🤪

Longest/shortest completed fic you wrote this year

My only completed fics this year were one-shots 😝

Longest: See No ****, Hear No **** (6430 words)

Shortest: In Full Bloom (2838 words)

Fics you’ll continue next year

Liminal Spaces, which I can hopefully finish off by late Jan or early Feb. I tried my hardest to get chapter 6 in under the wire for the end of 2024, but as of now it’s only half edited. It’s still extremely close to being finished though, I’m hoping to have it up before my holidays are over!

And of course I’m still working on Where The Dead Forget, which after LS I’m resolving to make my priority for the time being, even if it will surely continue to be part of my New Year’s resolutions for the next couple of years 😆

Favorite character to write about this year

Always Patroclus Hadesgame!! I feel like I got to write him a lot this year and idk his voice is always in my head in a way that isn’t necessarily the case with other characters I write, so it seems easier for me to figure out what he might say in a given situation. No matter the universe he’s always a bit charming and dignified, a bit acerbic, a bit sweet, and sooooo fun!

Favorite writing song/artist/album of this year

I’m pretty sure the Hades 2 soundtrack has been on constant shuffle/repeat since May… although I also spent a lot of the summer listening to my Liminal Spaces playlist. I’m planning to curate it a bit more and then share it sometime soon… possibly when the story is finished!

Favorite closing line from a fic in 2024:

I’m sharing the whole closing scene, because the reason I like it is this narrative payoff, and I enjoy the dialogue & pacing. It’s from the end WTDF chapter 7 so SPOILERS:

“Achilles was the commander of the Myrmidons... Phthia’s own crown prince… You were his own personal companion, were you not?”

Patroclus is perhaps more surprised by this information than he thinks he ought to be. And yet, simply hearing the words spoken, there is the sense that it is true—a truth so natural and plain it would almost feel dishonest to deny it. Still, Patroclus elects to act with restraint, yearning to know more, coveting any modicum about Achilles as he can.

“What makes you say such a thing, son of Zeus?”

Sarpedon inclines his head, perhaps finding the guarded tone of his response to be unexpected.

“I apologize. Forgive me for assuming, but… is that not the son of Peleus? Just there—“ He points to Patroclus’ left shoulder. Patroclus eyes strain to follow, uncomprehending.

“Pardon?”

Sarpedon smiles gently, his kind, dark eyes filled with something akin to pity.

“On your brooch,” he says. His tone is patient, delicate; as if speaking to a beloved relative who is losing himself to dotage. Patroclus is not sure it is something he appreciates, even if it comes from a place of kindness.

“On my— what?” The angle prevents him from seeing it properly, and so he unhooks the fibula, removing it from his cloak for a better look.

“It could also be a woman,” Glaucus leans over to say to Sarpedon. There is a sly smile on his lips, the tip of his winsome canine peeking through. “Perhaps it was the symbol of their cause—the promise of Helen’s lovely visage spurring all the Greeks to battle day in and day out.”

Patroclus laughs. He cannot help it.

How did he not notice it before? The brooch is made of fine polished gold, and engraved with the profile of a beautiful youth whose striking features are framed by lovely, long curls. He can easily imagine Achilles as the same person—older and wearier, perhaps; his shade the mellowing ardency of late summer, rather than the full flush of spring—but certainly just as beautiful.

Patroclus is still staring at the image—the only thing in the world that exists—even as distracted words tumble from his mouth, barely discerned by his own ears.

“I am sorry. I must go.”

Favorite opening line from a fic in 2024:

Kind of stumped on this one again this year because I feel like the ability to write banger, attention-grabbing openings is a weakness of mine. But I think if I had to pick one, it would also be from WTDF chapter 7:

Patroclus looks up at the sound of Achilles’ approach.

Achilles stops short, a few paces away from him at the top of the stone staircase, uncertain if he ought to come any closer. He assesses Patroclus’ mood carefully. There is recognition in his face this time, but it is impassive—whether Patroclus feels joy, annoyance, or nothing at all at the sight of him, Achilles cannot say. He wonders if this is what their reunion would have been like, had none of this happened. If only he had ever tried to imagine it.

Favorite line/scene you wrote this year:

I wish I was sharing some kind of beautiful and deep prose that says something profound about my OTPs in a way that makes the muses weep but unfortunately deep down I am just a simple gooner and I’m afraid the moment from this year that brings me the most joy is this one from Liminal Spaces chapter 3:

He brings a hand between Achilles’ thighs, his upturned fingers smearing oil all over his entrance until it feels slick and wet. He then pushes in curiously, using a single digit. There is resistance at first, but as soon as he gets past it, his finger quickly slides in all the way in without any additional effort.

Achilles moans at the feeling. He sits up on his elbows to clutch at Zagreus’ wrist, controlling his hand so that he can fuck himself with Zagreus’ finger. He makes Zagreus move in and out of him at a brisk pace, rolling his hips slightly, meeting the thrusts. He bites his lip, his face taut with pleasure.

“Holy shit,” Zagreus says, mesmerized. “I need to be inside you so bad.”

Achilles pulls Zagreus’ finger out of him, and directs the hand to Zagreus’ cock, now making him stroke himself, spreading the oil around. Zagreus squeezes himself, already trying to imagine what Achilles will feel like with Zagreus full inside of him. He shakes Achilles off to regain control of his hand, and then grabs Achilles’ hips, pulling him closer. Zagreus holds onto himself as he lines them up, starting to press in.

Behind them, the kitchen door swings open.

The sound of Patroclus’ footsteps stroll past, heading behind the counter. Zagreus hears the clinking of glass, and he turns to watch as Patroclus procures a wine glass from a high cabinet shelf. Patroclus emerges from the kitchen area, approaching them with the glass in one hand and the wine bottle from his room in the other. He hefts his weight onto the dining table before pouring himself a drink. He rests his elbow on a folded knee as he takes dainty sips from the glass, the other leg swinging over the edge. He looks like a king, settling in to preside over the bloodsport he loves; ready to play arbiter over the lives of wild beasts and of men.

“Don’t let me interrupt,” he says. “I just needed to retrieve my wine glass.”

“Come on,” Achilles says. “Hurry up and fuck me.”

The whole thing just cracks me up so bad!!! The mental image of Patroclus casually coming into the room and walking past where this dude is about fuck his boyfriend, taking his time to get a wine glass, and then the first thing out of his mouth is this really obvious statement about what he was just doing. Meanwhile Achilles is so impatient, because of course Zag had to stop and stare at Pat the entire time 😭 idk it is just extremely funny TO MEEE

Fic I’m most proud of in 2024:

I feel like I tried a lot of new things to challenge myself this year that I’m proud of: fics about ships I haven’t written before (Persenyx and Mobuhan), a multi-chapter fic (Liminal Spaces) with a more substantial, but still self-contained plot (and managing it to keep it pretty much within the word count I was expecting for it), and translating one of my fics based on Greek mythology into Japanese, which was really fun but also required a lot of extra reading/research so that I could do it properly… not only did I play Hades in Japanese but I also kept my Japanese translations of the Iliad and The Song Of Achilles close by and all three of them influenced my translation choices in various ways!

BUT idk, if I based my criteria on what I think is nicely composed prose as well as something I like going back to reread for myself, I actually think it’s See No ****, Hear No ****. I just enjoyed the whole concept & challenge of describing the same erotic encounter from two different perspectives which are deprived of their sight and sound respectively, and how relying on other senses affects the experience for them in different ways (but also giving a reader the complete picture when they finish reading both.) I was amused by my own little inserted Easter eggs and parallels, and if you read them side by side, the events more or less lineup (because I actually did write them physically side by side from one another!)

A fic you didn’t expect to write

My Heart’s Your Future. Its existence is definitely a case of the story evolving as I write it… I keep looking for more opportunities to insert references to classic/influential vaporwave songs as I write Liminal Spaces, and what happens in chapter 5 was always in the outline, but I wasn’t sure what music would be playing, other than the fact that it would have particular nostalgic/sentimental value for Achilles & Patroclus. And once I figured out what it would be, I wanted to explore that a bit more, especially since LS is from Zagreus’ POV so he often doesn’t understand what’s going on in A&P’s little world :) It’s just a bit of a bonus if someone read chapter 5 and was confused, or wants a bit of context going in. Or it can just be for anyone who wants a quick fix of Patrochilles banging… because I mean who doesn’t want that?? (Don’t answer that.) :3c

Fics you wanted to write but didn’t

Oh god lmao… there was this one pza fic that I was getting off the ground in a fit of inspiration and literally as I was typing in the document, Hades 2 Early Access dropped and distracted me away from it completely 😂 and then a couple of days after that I was made a group leader for an event at my kid’s kindergarten so it was a one-two punch to not only that fic but also I wouldn’t get any writing done at all for the next month afterwards 💀💀💀 Hopefully I can revisit it again sometime next year!

Something you learned this year

It’s actually ok to split up chapters more, they don’t have to be so long… it’s easier to edit and easier for people to read :)

(But will I take this to heart? Unclear.)

Current number of wips

Number of wips already published and currently being serialized: 2

Number of unpublished wips: uhhhhh I have 12 additional projects in my scrivener program… whether the docs are blank or have decent progress made on them, who can say 😂

Any new fics to start next year

I have a fic due in a couple of weeks for this year’s Hades gift exchange event that I’ve already started working on, so idk if that counts exactly but it’ll certainly be my first newly published fic of 2025!

I think once Liminal Spaces is done, my plan is to just work on WTDF for a while until inspiration compels me to either complete one of my other WIPs or start a new one completely… and as a lot of you probably already know, inspiration striking for a new story is a “suddenly, at any moment” type situation. Who knows what I’ll have done by this time next year! I sure don’t! Kind of an exciting thought, though :)

[anomalyaly]

hello hello hello! :D

leaving here a few questions for your MC ♡:

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

3) does your mc have a favourite colour? why is it their favourite?

5) did you consult wand lore when choosing their wand? if so, why did you pick what you did? if not, would you ever change wand details to match your mc?

11) what is your mc’s blood status? how does it affect their time at hogwarts? how does it affect their home life?

19) does your mc have a love interest? who is it? why did your mc fall for that character, if they do have a love interest?

25) what is your mc’s favourite season? why is it their favourite?

Hello!! Thank you so much for the asks! 💖

3) does your mc have a favourite colour? why is it their favourite?

Elsie's favorite color is the yellow of a daffodil. She loves the brightness of it - daffodils are one of the first flowers to pop up after the cold season, so it reminds her to have hope even when things are bleak.

5) did you consult wand lore when choosing their wand? if so, why did you pick what you did? if not, would you ever change wand details to match your mc?

Elsie's wand is cherry wood with a phoenix feather core.

Cherry wood - usually possessed by those with a lethal power, which is something Elsie discovers when she learns more about her ancient magic.

Phoenix core - Elsie is slow to adjust to people and open up to them, similarly to how the phoenix feather core is. She is not easily won over. Though she appears kind and friendly on the outside, she stays fairly superficial until she really decides to trust someone.

11) what is your mc’s blood status? how does it affect their time at hogwarts? how does it affect their home life?

(answered in a previous ask but I'll repost it here!)

Elsie is a muggleborn. She was born in London and both of her parents are muggles with no knowledge of magic. She noticed the prejudices immediately upon meeting Professor Black, so she tries to avoid bringing up her family in conversation just in case someone shares the same views.

(slight spoiler for my story) It's strained her home life - her brother, whom she used to be close with, tends to tread more carefully around her. Her parents had plans for her to be married off to another rich family, so they feel like their best laid plans have been foiled. They don't know what to make of the magic culture either. The only one who doesn't seem bothered by it is her sister, who is too young to really understand. The differences between muggles and wizards are stark!

19) does your mc have a love interest? who is it? why did your mc fall for that character, if they do have a love interest?

Sebastian lol. She doesn't even realize what is happening until she's fallen for him - she's very naive in this sense and has no experience in the romance department since her parents had an arranged marriage for her before she got her magic. In the beginning, she's skeptical of him because he's very charming (even though she finds him attractive). But once she starts to trust him, she surprises herself at how much she's willing to open up to him. She falls for him because she realizes he cares deeply for others in his own way, even though the way he expresses it might not be the best. (after 5th year, they need to take some time to process through everything!)

25) what is your mc’s favourite season? why is it their favourite?

Autumn! Especially once she starts attending Hogwarts, Elsie loves the colors of the leaves and seeing the orange hues from the top of the Ravenclaw tower smattered along the mountains of the highlands. It's not too cold by this time of year either, so she loves to sit outside and study or read when she can.

[stars-of-kyber]

I do not know where this has come from but I do know that you’re probably one of the very few authors in this fandom that I know I could request to bring this to life and it’ll turn out better than my imagination.

Kate and Anthony have been together a while - they’re just getting to know about each other but one thing that Anthony doesn’t know is that Kate has dormant asthma which acts up during a stressful period and Anthony is there to witness it. He doesn’t know what to do or what’s going on, just that he is out of his mind looking at Kate going all blue in the face. I’ll leave the rest to you.

Would you please please please write it, my dear friend? Please???

You know they say flattery won't get you anywhere but with me, that's not true, complimenting me can get you very far lol

Thank you for the prompt! I love these random ideas that send me into an inspiration fit <3 and thank you for the comment I love it so much it makes me so happy you have NO idea.

You know what's funny? I've never mentioned any of this to anyone here bc it was years ago but my ex-boyfriend used to have severe asthma and one of the scariest situations in my entire life was the day his inhaler ended at work and he arrived at my house looking completely blue.

@chrissisheadisinclouds who asked for No 14 “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.” so I put the two together.

I have to thank @kateandanthonyaremyparents and @mimix007 for the help and support and comments I love you both so much. And to my ex who not only made me live those insane asthmatic partner experiences but has been answering my annoying asthma questions for the past three days bc of this story lol Thanks Adal, you're great!

Here is Breathe, I hope it was able to live up to your expectations.

Anthony's day was being hectic at best. His alarm didn't go off and when he'd woken up with Kate rolling out of bed to get ready for work, he was already supposed to be at the office for at least fifteen minutes. It was raining strongly outside and by the time he arrived at work, he was about an hour late. And to top it all off, thirty minutes after that, the lights went off. A fallen tree smashed some cables and the entire twenty-one floors of the commercial building went powerless, along with at least another eight around them. All employees were instructed to work at home and Anthony had to climb down fourteen flights of stairs to go back to where he shouldn't have left in the first place.

The rest of his morning had been mostly ordinary. He sat through an hours-long meeting that could have been an e-mail, answered stupid questions from people who didn't know how to do their own jobs and ate cold leftover pizza for lunch. 

It was around three in the afternoon when Newton, who had been napping quietly on his study sofa, lifted his head in surprise, listening to the click of the front door opening. 

Anthony stood, following the dog with a furrow of his eyebrow. Was Kate home early? He knew storms upset her and the wind was picking up, cracks of thunder rolling over the sky, making windows rattle, so she might have taken a half day, but she hadn't called or texted him about it. 

He knew something was wrong the moment his eyes landed on Kate. Newton had rushed to her, wiggling his chubby butt as he nuzzled her legs to get her attention but his girlfriend didn't bend to greet him as she usually did. Instead, she stood stock-still, her entire body resting heavily against the shut door, trembling softly. Her eyes were closed and her chest was rising and falling too quickly, too harshly and her breathing was raggedy and rattling on her chest. 

Her lips were blue. 

"Kate?" She jumped at the sound of his voice, her eyes snapping open and falling on him. "Are you okay?" He could hear the worried hitch in his voice the same way he could hear the wheezing in her breath. She didn't answer, shaking her head, but she reached out for him as he approached, allowing him to wrap his arms safely around her shaking body. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Can't breathe." Kate croaked, trying to swallow a lungful of air. 

"Is it the storm? Are you having a panic attack?" His hands roamed nervously over her, trying to soothe and check for any injuries at the same time. Kate just shook her head again, her eyes turning wet as her breathing grew more and more raggedy. 

"Asthma." She whispered hoarsely. Anthony knew Kate had asthma, of course, he did, but only from the stories he heard from Mary and Edwina. His girlfriend never talked about it and in the year they've been together, two months of that year living in the same house, he'd never seen her have even a hint of what could look like a flare-up. He'd seen panic attacks and nightmares, but nothing that could indicate any difficulty breathing at all. 

The worst part is that Anthony had no idea what to do. 

He'd treated his fair share of allergy crises and strep infections. Rash and sunburns were easy. He could handle everything from scraped knees to broken bones and he had experience with how to deal with inebriation and hangovers. But none of his siblings had asthma. 

"Do you have an inhaler?" It was the only thing he knew about it, from years of films and shows about people using the little pumps whenever they felt any symptoms coming. Kate shook her head, tears streaming down her face. 

"Ended... A while back." She told him, her breathing worsening as the words came out, her bluish lips wobbling as tears ran down her face. "Didn't think I needed it anymore." 

"Okay..." Anthony's hands were trembling as they rubbed up and down his girlfriend's arms. " Hey, don't cry, alright? I'm here, I'm with you okay? Always. I'll figure it out, try to breathe as steadily as you can." 

"My chest hurts." She whispered brokenly, leaning her cheek at the palm that moved to cradle her face, closing her eyes. 

"I know love, but you need to calm down and save your breath, can you do that for me, sweetheart?" Kate nodded painfully, attempting to slow her breathing although the wheezing remained just as bad. "You're doing great, darling. Keep breathing in and out as slow as you can." Anthony guided her gently towards one of the sofas, Newton following on her heels. "Just sit here and try to breathe slowly alright? I'll be right back."

Kate just nodded, her hands burrowed deeply into Newton's fur as he climbed into her lap. 

Anthony took one last worried look at her before moving to the kitchen, fishing his phone out of his pocket. The first try went to voicemail after a minute of ringing and he dialed again. This time, after just three rings, the call connected. 

"Anthony, is everything alright?" Mary's voice was low on the other side of the line. He knew Kate's stepmother was working at the moment but if she hadn't picked up the phone, his next call would be directed to 999. 

"Oh thank God." He released all the air he had been holding back while the phone rang. "Mary, I need your help. Kate's... she's having an asthma... attack? Crisis? Flare? I don't know what it's called. She can't breathe and I don't know what to do." 

"Ok, Anthony, dear, listen to me. I need you to calm down."

"Calm down?! Mary, she's turning blue!" Anthony's voice was an octave higher than usual, his attempt at whispering turning into a squeak. 

"Listen, I know it’s scary, okay? By God, I really, really do." Kate's stepmother's voice was trembling slightly over the telephone. "But Kate's already nervous and she needs to be as tranquil as possible so you can't panic right now, yes?" 

"Yes, I... I know that. It's just..." He let the words trail out, unsure how to phrase them. 

"It's terrifying." His mother-in-law's voice was filled with sorrow and worry on the other side of the line as she spoke. "I used to sit next to her bed all night, watching her chest rise and fall after one of those crises."  

"What do I do, Mary?" 

"Does she have an inhaler?"

"No, she said she'd run out and didn't think she needed a refill." 

"Of course she did." He could see clearly in his mind the way Mary was most likely shaking her head with a sad little smile. "Make her a strong cup of tea." Anthony was already moving while she spoke, filling the electric kettle with fresh water before turning it on. "Caffeine has similar effects as the inhaler and it can help ease her shortness of breath. At least for a little while."

"Okay. Water's boiling. What else?" 

"Just keep her sitting up and focusing on her breathing. And some honey might help too if you have it." 

"And after the tea?" Anthony asked, opening and closing cupboards until he found the small half-used bottle of honey he kept for Hyacinth when she came over. 

"Once she's feeling a bit better, take her to the A&E to get proper medication." 

"Right." He stood in the silence of the kitchen for a few moments, watching the water begin to bubble over the glass and he only knew Mary was still on from the soft background noises coming through the speaker. "I didn't even know she had asthma... I mean, I heard it from you and Eddie but I... I thought it was treated or something... I never seen her have anything remotely similar to a crisis so I just assumed..."

"I don't think she'd had a crisis in a while, but I don't think Kate would have told me about it." Mary let out a tired little sigh. "She's always hated her asthma flares so much and she'd try to hide it from us until she could barely breathe. It was like those storms she was so afraid of as a girl. I think Kate tried to keep these things to herself so we don't worry about her or something like it." 

It was lucky the conversation was happening through the phone because Anthony would not have been able to look Kate's stepmother in the eye. Mary was not aware that Kate's deep-rooted horror of storms had not disappeared, but shifted as she had learned to hide her feelings better. Hell, Anthony only came to discover them by accident, when he decided to stop at her flat instead of trying to make it home in the rain only to find her curled up on the floor of her closet, her eyes glassy and her nose pressed to Newton's fur. He was quite certain that if he hadn't found her that day, Kate would have kept the fact from him for as long as she was humanly able. 

Yet he hadn't really told her about his blinding fear of bees and of not living past until it had been impossible to keep it from her without tossing their entire relationship away. He really couldn't judge her much without making himself a huge hypocrite. 

"I've got the honey." He told her, clutching the bottle to him with shaky hands. "I'll go give some to her while the tea is not ready." 

"You do that. Please keep me updated, I'll have my phone with me if you need anything."

"Will do." 

"And Anthony? You tell Kate she'd better have an inhaler on her the next time I see her." 

"Don't worry Mary." He told her honestly. If he had his way, there would be an asthma inhaler tied to Kate's work bag, one in each room of their house and perhaps one at his mother's and one at hers, just to be safe. "I've got it." 

Kate's breathing was even worse when he returned to the living room. She was making a strong effort to keep pulling air in and out slowly, but it didn't seem to be helping much. Her entire face was pale and drawn-out and her lips had turned completely blue. He was by her side in a flash, examining the bluish tips of her fingers and caressing her cheeks gently as she tried to inhale. 

"Here, take this." She opened her mouth to reply but he beat her to it. "Don't speak, you need to save your breath, okay? It's just honey and I'm making you some tea. Mary said it would help." Kate opened her mouth, this time to take the spoon he was offering her without any complaint and swallowed heavily but dutifully. "After you take the tea, we're going to the A&E, alright?" 

"No." Her voice was hoarse and you could hear the breathlessness behind it at the small word while her eyes filled with tears. 

"Katie, please, don't cry. Please," He begged, cupping her cheek in his palm. Anthony despised seeing her in any form of pain and he was terrified she'd stop breathing right there in front of him. The only reason he still hadn't dragged her into the car and to an emergency room, tea and honey and slow breathing be damned, was that he knew she'd hate him for it. But if she continued to get progressively more blue and her breathing continued to wheeze that way, he might just let her hate him, if it meant she'd be alright. "I know you don't like the hospital and you don't like having to go there, but you need to breathe, darling. It's kind of a requirement to keep living. How can I marry you if you stop?"

Kate closed her eyes to fight the tears, a little chuckle escaping her as she inhaled deeply. "You have to propose first." 

"Yeah, and I have the whole thing planned out, ring and everything." Anthony pressed his lips gently to her forehead, pushing her hair from her face. "But you need to have air in your lungs to say yes."  

The room was silent for a moment, devoid of any sound but Kate's harsh intakes of breath before she whispered, "Okay."

"Okay?" She nodded, letting her head fall forwards until their foreheads were touching. "Thank you, sweetheart." He mumbled, kissing her nose and then the corner of her lips. "I'm going to get your tea, alright?"

"Alright." With one last kiss to the top of her head, he got up. 

It was the fastest pot of tea Anthony'd ever made. Anthony was back at Kate's side with a steaming mug filled with strong tea in under a minute. 

As his girlfriend sipped, painfully at first, on the hot drink, the wheezing in her breath seemed to diminish until it was barely there, her plump lips recovering their colour bit by bit until very little blue was left on it. By the time the mug was empty, Kate looked almost like her normal self, abate for her chest rising and falling in measured deep breaths and the pained look written on her features. 

Anthony took the lilac ceramic mug from her hand and placed it on the centre table in front of them. Kate let herself fall against his side, looking drawn out and so very tired, her eyes closed as her entire body slumped into him. 

"Would you like to change before going to the A&E?" He offered, rubbing her back up and down in soft, gentle strokes. 

"No." Her reply was a husky whisper as she shook her head and Anthony could see the small bit of moist collecting in the corners of her closed eyes. He reached over, brushing the tears away before they could fully form. 

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry you have to go through this." 

"I hate it." Kate's little angry complaint was swallowed by the fabric of his shirt as she pressed her nose to it. "It sucks, I hate it, I... I thought it was over." Her voice broke over the last word and Anthony enveloped her in his arms, one of his hands reaching up to caress her hair as the other continued its soothing up-and-down motion on her back. "My chest hurts."

"I know, love. I'm sorry." He kissed her forehead again, inhaling the flowery smell of her hair, basking in the feeling of her, warm and alive next to him, of her chest rising and falling against his.  

"I don't want to have this." Kate sounded a little like a petulant child, angry and frustrated and Anthony deeply understood the feeling. He understood what was it like to feel as if you have no control over your own body, incapable of doing something that was supposed natural. When you needed your lungs, your limbs, your mind to do what they were made to do only to find them fighting you on every turn. It made you feel weak. It made you feel powerless. 

"I know you don't." He kissed the top of her head, saying the words into her hair. "And I know you don't like going to the hospital, but I need you to do this. If not for yourself, for me. I can't see you like this, darling." 

"I don't like the inhaler." 

"I get it, alright? I'll call Uncle Nick and Aunt Georgie and ask for a recommendation for a good pulmonologist. The best one in the country. I'm sure there must be some treatment for asthma so you won't have to use the inhaler in the future. I have a very good allergist too, I take all of my siblings to her to get tested every three years. We can schedule an appointment with her as well." He pulled back to be able to look at her face, his index finger trailing over her jaw in a soft caress. "But right now, I'm going to need you to go to the A&E so you can get medicated and properly breathing since we have established that it is sort of an essential part of life and all." 

"It's a bit important, yes." Kate laughed and the sound lifted the heavy weight that had settled over Anthony's chest since his eyes had fallen on her, breathless and wheezing this afternoon.

"And I'm going to have to insist you carry around an inhaler with you while we don't have a proper, safe treatment plan." Her nose wrinkled in distaste at his request that really was half an order, half a plea. "You scared the hell of out me, Kate." 

"It wasn't that bad." It was clear from the grimace that followed her words that she wasn't fooling even herself. 

"You looked blue, darling. Like that girl that chews gum in the Chocolate Factory movie that turns into a blueberry." 

"She turns purple," Kate’s tone might have been deadpan, but her teeth had sunk into her bottom lip and she was trying to keep her laughter at bay at the ridiculous discussion just as much as he was. 

"And you were one step away from looking purple. Plus, I could hear your wheezing from the hall. Newton heard it from the office with the door half-closed." The dog in question lifted his head from where it was resting on Kate's lap to nuzzle in her hand as if to agree with Anthony and his worries. "Please, Kate, for my sanity, if nothing else."

"I haven't had a bad crisis in a while." She told him, the hand that wasn't patting Newton's fun reaching out to his, enlacing their fingers together. 

"Hopefully, for both our sakes, you'll never have another one. But just in case, so I can have some peace of mind, knowing that I won't get home to find you passed out on the floor, blue-faced and unable to breathe." 

"You're very dramatic." She giggled, pressing their lips together in a chaste kiss. "You're going to spread inhalers around the entire house, aren't you?"

"Yes." Anthony wasn't ashamed to admit it and Kate knew him too well for him to even try and lie about it. 

"I'm sorry for scaring you." She whispered, pressing her cheek to his outstretched hand. 

"Don't be." He whispered back, kissing the tip of her nose. "Just let me take care of you." 

"You do. You take care of me very well." Kate spoke gently, nuzzling at his palm in a motion very similar to Newton's when he demanded pats. "It's the reason I love you so much. Well, one of them anyway." 

"And yet, you keep fighting every step of the way." He whined as his fingers carted upwards, threading to the lush dark locks of her hair and her eyes fell shut in bliss over the caress.

"I love you even more because you keep doing it despite me fighting you every step of the way."

"You'd probably have to kill me to make me stop." He couldn't help but smile at Kate's sweet little content sigh. "But you could, maybe... Not fight it so much? You don't even have to help, just... let me do it every once in a while."

"Pot, kettle, honey." She grinned smugly, her eyebrows raising up even if her eyes remained firmly shut before her entire face contorted in a big yawn. 

"Oh, no, Miss Sharma. You're not falling asleep on me here." Anthony stood quickly and Kate whimpered at the loss of him, her body falling down to the cushions slowly and a bit theatrically. He had his hands wrapped around her wrists before she could even lie down fully, tugging her to sit up. Newton let out a grumble of complaint when he lost his comfortable resting space. "We're going to the hospital before the tea effect ends and you start turning purple again."  

"It's raining a lot." She complained, sitting up with a pout. 

"Don't worry, the car is waterproof, I checked." When Kate was firmly on her two feet, he wrapped his arm around her waist, reaching out for the workbag she had abandoned by the door when she'd arrived and his wallet and keys without ever letting go of her. 

"I'm really tired."    

"The faster we're at the A&E, the faster we can return home. We can take a nap and order some food for dinner once we're back."

"Don't you have to work?" His girlfriend finally gave up on trying to convince him to let it go, allowing herself to melt into his embrace with a weary, drawn-out sigh as he walked them to the 

"Whatever I have to do can wait until tomorrow." It wasn't exactly a lie as much as Anthony barely remembered what he had to get done to work that day. Everything but making sure Kate was alive and well had fled his brain the moment she arrived home. Anthony was not a person to take days off for just any reason and the amount of overtime he had put up for the company greatly outweighed the amount of time off he'd gotten in the years he'd been working there. He was sure his boss would understand. 

"But...."

"Hush." He told her as he deposited her safely in the passenger seat, pressing a quick kiss to her pursed lips. "Everything else can wait. You're my priority. Always." 

[ackalice]

Hiiiiiii how are ya?? :D Been a while, sorry I've been sucked into another fandom lol Anyways I found this and thought: why not ask my fren! :3 Here's an ask thing

1. who's your favorite oc?

2. who was your first oc?

3. how many ocs do you have?

4. have you kept all of your

ocs since the beginning?

5. are any of your ocs based

off of a show/book you like?

if so, who?

6. what is the species of the

majority of your ocs?

7. are any of your ocs an

original species? if so,

what's the species and who?

8. if you can, draw (oc name)!

9. write a few sentences as

(oc name)!

10. are any of your ocs part

of a story? if so, what is it

about and who's in it?

11. do you have any twin ocs?

12. are any of your ocs

siblings?

13. what is the gender of the

majority of your ocs?

14. make up a new oc right now

based on (concept/show/color/

etc.)!

15. would you ever give up any

of your ocs?

16. who is your oldest oc

(age-wise)?

17. have you ever roleplayed

as your ocs?

18. how many of your ocs were

adopted from someone else?

19. who is your least favorite

oc?

20. which oc do you think has

changed the most since you

made them?

21. who is your newest oc?

22. have you ever cosplayed

your own ocs? if so, who?

23. which oc do you think has

affected you the most as youve

grown with them?

24. have you gotten cosplayers

of your ocs? if so, of whom?

25. do you have any ocs that

you havent drawn/written as/

talked about in a long time?

if so, who?

(Please ignore this if you either don't want to answer or have had this sent to you already)

OH MY GAWD THE QUESTIONS

Hi meelu!! I’ve been alright, just very inactive because of busy busy life stuff- but I saw this pop up and I wanna answer dis cuz I luv u my moot!

Alrighty anyway OC QUESTIONS MY FAVORITE!!

1. Favorite oc: my favorite oc out of all of them? Uhhhh good god- I’m gonna say my favorite is my very first oc, C.J., because she was a very big part of my early art journey. And also she was very cringy and I love her for it.

2. First oc: whoops I answered this- it was C.J.! She was a generic fox girl I made when I was a very itty bitty kid.

3. How many ocs: don’t judge me here- from what I counted just now it’s 56. There could be more that I’m forgetting, so it’s pretty iffy. But I do remember that the number got up to 60 at some point.

4. Have you kept all your ocs since the beginning: Despite how many I have, it’ll be a surprise to hear that I have actually retired a bunch. And by a punch I mean probably over 15. This does include C.J. And her band but only because I felt like I wasn’t using her enough and she had done her part for me.

5. Are any of your ocs based on a show or book: HELL YEAH! God, dude there’s a lot. Well- I say a lot but it’s not 56 a lot- anyway-

I made warrior cat ocs, like anyone, but those were retired. I based a series I have, Remnant, off of magic girl shows but it’s too far from any of them to be directly from those media. There’s The Owl House, which was several ocs I never continued using (and I’m sad I never did), there was a Brand New Animal oc I scrapped, and of course there are more that didn’t leave the sketch phase.

I guess you could count fnaf, but that’s a given.

I also had some Helluva Boss ocs that I have sketches for and even started a comic for- but when I say a comic I mean half a page was finished and I lost motivation.

Good lord I just remembered I had a whole mlp next gen. So I made a crap ton of mlp ocs- anyway-

But then you delve into two of my favorite shows and you go down a rabbit hole of history I’m not going into- which is My Hero Academia and Tmnt. I’m saying Tmnt in general because I’ve put my ocs into several shows in the franchise. Tmnt has ocs I’ve mentioned before on this blog and MHA has seven ocs of mine, that’s Jejeru, Kami, Kai, Kianami, Marikaida, and Chinatsu. I’ve fallen out of the fandom but I might use them in future, who knows!

6. What is the species of a majority of your ocs: Okay. So. This question is very hard to explain because I delve into some WACK species genetics with my ocs- Remnant is literally based on splicing genetics. But if we are being honest, most of them either started out or were, at the beginning of their story, human. So I’m gonna go with human. The second place runner is definitely an animal crossed with a human though because those are just fun.

7. Are any of your ocs an original species: Yes, actually! I’ve got several. Not that they have names or official species types or backstories or anything, but they sure are there. I’m gonna describe random characters I’ve put together with no specific species in mind.

Lufoa, an oc I did a ramble on a while ago, is not crossed with any known animal. That’s actually part of her story, but I haven’t worked it in yet. Another I could count is Artemis, but I don’t know exactly what she is- I haven’t explained it yet. There’s also my oc Alice, (NOT A SELF INSERT) who’s some kind of demon. I dunno what kind but she’s also there.

!INTERJECTION!

I’m gonna be skipping 8 and 9 because I’m running very low on the creative juice and haven’t drawn or written for fun in a WHILE and just don’t have any motivation for it- I’m so sorry abt it but I’ll answer the rest gladly!

10. Are any of your ocs part of a story: Quite a few of them are, actually! The one’s based on tv shows and books are obviously apart of one, but I’ve got a few I’ve made up on my own. There’s Remnant, the big magical girl-ish show series about teens participating in a high grade school and also accepting genetics testing to be apart of the military (main character is not aware of this second part in the slightest, woOooOoo plot~). I’ve got Midnight Misteps, which is a similar concept but it’s the apocalypse and new species and monsters and cryptdids roam around while our main cast tries to rebuild society again. I have Vivian and Fin, the two characters I don’t have a series name for yet where Viv meets a demon through accidental circumstances but turns out it’s not accidental and she’s been kidnapped by literal Hell but she doesn’t know for a majority of her time down there. And then you’ve got Camila, the rich pink and proper girl who meets secret agent Thomas under the impression he’s just a grouchy guy and then gets roped into a big gang conspiracy in her town and has to avoid these dangers with her new cop buddy all while in heels.

So yeah I’m doing great with work in progress projects

11. Do you have any twin ocs: yes! I’ve got one set, and they’re fnaf ocs, if you can imagine it. I reworked a sister location oc around a few months ago and doubled her into two people! That’s Frankie and Danny, the sweetheart engineers! One of them isn’t a sweetheart, but yadda yadda, plot and story stuff- I’m movin’ on!

12. Are any of your ocs siblings: oh. My. God. Yes. It would be very hard for me to pick them all out and name them, but let’s just say yes. Yes, there are many. I’ve got one set of sextuplets in there somewhere-

13. What is the gender of most of your ocs: Female. It’s so female it’s unfair. I’ve been getting better at this, but I still prefer drawing women over men and I have no idea why?? It’s nothing negative or anything- I just think I started drawing girls and just kept drawing girls and completely missed the boat I had to jump onto to draw guys anatomy correctly. But I’m getting better!

14. Skipped again because creative juices….aughhhhhhh….I’m tired of not having energy to draw ;-;

15. Would you ever give up any of your ocs: Okay I’m gonna assume this is talking about giving up an oc to another person- like an adopt situation- and uh no. I don’t think I would be able to do that just because I have emotional connections to literally all of them. I love them too much to just hand over their birth certificate, y’know?

16. Who is your oldest oc (age wise): oh hah. Okay, so I’m inclined to say C.J., because I ended her story with a cute little story of her growing old with her partner in a little cottage in the countryside- but! I’m gonna give this one to Paula Fidreas, a Remnant oc, because she is quite literally in her 50’s as of the start of the story. In the simplest terms, she’s a PE teacher.

17. Have you ever roleplayed as your ocs: Yes! C.J. Was actually made from a role play! And I think I’ve role played as Camila before, but that memory is a bit fuzzy.

18. How many of your ocs were adopted from someone else: None of em’! They’re mah babies, tried and true.

19. Who is your least favorite oc: I don’t count her in my oc count but Adelaide’s adoptive mom is definitely my least favorite. As a character she has a purpose in the story but I would never use her again or draw her in detail. I don’t know, she’s just there for character development at the moment.

20. Which oc has changed the most since you made them: Vivian. Definitely Vivian. Not just because she’s the oldest of I still use, but she’s also went from a brown haired girl with zero personality and a boyfriend to a troubled teenager who is too weird and different to have friends so she seeks out companionship in the land of the dead.

21. Who is your newest oc: I mentioned them earlier and this totally breaks the abruptness of me mentioning them once out of nowhere, but the sextuplets are my newest ocs. Out of all of them, Orion is the newest because I came up with his concept first.

22. Have you ever cosplayed your own ocs: Alas, I’ve never had the determination nor the money nor the confidence to do such a thing, BUT I ALMOST DID. When I was little I almost cosplayed C.J. Because I had no other ideas for a halloween costume. I didn’t end up doing it because I chickened out. Kinda wish I did though..

23. Which oc has effected you the most as you’ve grown with them: I’m gonna give this one to Alice, actually. She’s the basis of my online persona and username, if you couldn’t tell- and she was with me through quarantine. That was a joke, but no really, she consumed my art that last year.

24. Have you gotten cosplayers of your ocs: No, lol- I don’t know near enough people or anyone who would do it. And if anyone did do it, I would be dead upon seeing or hearing it because OH MY GOD?? You thought my art was good enough to put time and money into a COSPLAY?? THANK YOU???? We’re getting married. Put on the ring.

25. Do you have any ocs you haven’t used in a long time: y e a h… I haven’t ever mentioned Pepper here. She’s uh…okay- imagine Entrapta from She-ra but ten times worse and no moral code. Evil scientist. That’s all I have to say here.

MEELU THANK YOU I NEEDED SOMETHING TO DO LOL

I’ve been off tumblr for a while bro thank you for bringing me these! They were so fun <3