#I dare say he wouldn't have handled that terribly well

[peoplearescary]

Manwha Yoojin’s “If I die in a dungeon, you won’t have to do anything as inconvenient as a funeral” gets so much worse when you remember how much he just wants his brother’s body back. 

[mistress-of-vos]

I'd make a longer post (and maybe one day I will) but since Lore Olympus, the story that introduced me to webtoons is coming to an end I'd like to say something:

I can't believe it is considered problematic. It has to be one of the sweetest, fluffiest, simplest stories I have read (hence why I still like it, it's a relaxing read before bed) and somehow it got too "kinky" for mainstream. It's laughable.

Everytime I dare to click on their tag or look for the # on Twitter or FB I see people clutching their pearls as if Lore Olympus were brainwashing teenagers into marrying a non existent God of the dead and have babies with him. What the hell?

The fact that people think LO is too dark makes me laugh. A single episode of Rick&Morty, BoJack Horseman or HQS has way more explicit content and dialogue. In fact!!! If it were up to me LO would have gotten genuinely kinky!!! All it does is have some surface spicy tropes that get sugar coated to not make puritans awkward and tbh that's sad. LO and the author get terribly hated anyway for daring to portray the most common female fantasy.

And this all makes me laugh but also mad because you'd think LO at least has some genuine dark themes but no? At most we have Persephone's trauma due to Apollo's abuse and yet that topic is treated as a therapy pamphlet because people couldn't handle an imperfect victim. Hades is a wife guy who shows little to no anger. Hera was re written to be sort of a feminist so that people stopped being annoying about women having emotions.

LO is a sweet, simple story with tiny spicy things here and there that were eventually pushed aside because people couldn't handle it. I wonder how Rachel feels about this, because at the beginning the story was extremely spicy and the only crime was being published in a platform as webtoon, full of people who can't differentiate reality from fiction.

Is LO a masterpiece? Idk! I enjoy the story, it's very self indulgent for me, but I won't go and analyze every detail to see how it should be labeled as it's not meant to be a perfect media. It's meant to be an entertaining, nice story of romance and it does that job very well. This need to demand perfect writing while also crucifying authors over "dark" themes is ridiculous and contradictory.

And I keep wondering, if these people loathe LO so much, why dedicate all that time to the infinte posts they make about how they would have told the story? And all those re tellings are boring! It's always "So Persephone and Hades won't ever kiss here because she's a lesbian. Also he doesn't appear at all. And Demeter isn't an abusive mom! Oh and everyone is ugly because gods shouldn't be beautiful! And Apollo isn't evil he's uwu baby. And no toxic relationships here, Zeus is a good husband!"

Sweet Gaia, you guys wouldn't handle Saint Seiya having Athena in the body of a teenage girl with big tits and who's constantly in the edge of breaking her virginity vows. These attitude screams of jealousy and puritanism and both are disgusting.

TLDR: LO being too problematic for people is both funny and annoying. I wished it actually were as kinky and dark as people insist it is. I'd pay for a toxic romance, but that being said, I LOVE it very much as it is and it's nice to have a re telling that, while not pretending to be loyal to mythology, didn't went for a route of sanitizing all the myths. I hope that once it ends haters will move on and let real fans and the author alone. 🙏

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

It looks like Meghan may be test-driving yet another narrative to handle the criticism about her failure to royal: it's all Harry's fault.

This started last week when reporters and journalists were speculating whether the Sussexes, had they stayed in, would have been able to help KP squash all the noise about Kate's condition and help BP squash the nosie about the royal family's bench strength by stepping up royal work. Hugo Vickers more or less said "no, because the Sussexes are only in it for themselves. Meghan wouldn't step up unless she personally benefited. She would have seen nothing in it for herself and would refuse to work."

So cue Esther Krakue, who appeared on Sky News Australia today. She agrees with Vickers that the Sussexes wouldn't have stepped up, but says it's because of Harry. Not Meghan. And the way she lays the blame squarely on Harry, she plays to both sides of the royal fence:

For the squaddies, she says "it's Harry's fault Meghan was a terrible royal because he made her start working before she was ready and willing."

For the rest of us, she says "Meghan lacked the temperament to be a proper royal because she wanted to be in charge and it's Harry's fault because he should have prepared her better."

That she speaks to both sides is making it a little harder to see whether this is Meghan setting up for a divorce narrative or whether this is an olive branch PR.

A quick disclaimer. I've no idea where Krakue falls in the royal reporting spectrum (is she a Sussex mouthpiece? Is she a straight-shooting royalist? Or does she go where the paycheck is?)

For me, I come down on "well, this feels like pre-emptive divorce narrative." Mainly because Meghan has been laying groundwork since 2017 for a domestic violence-based divorce narrative and "Harry forced Meghan to work" not only plays into that, it also implies he threatened Meghan.

Anyway. Here's the story.

And by the way, did you know this is the 11th time Meghan has tried to rewrite the story of her royal career? Let's review them!

#1. While they were dating/pre-engaged (2016 - late 2017): I’ll be the bestest duchess to duchess, better than Kate.

#2. While they were engaged (late 2017 - mid-2018): I’m going to hit the ground running and everyone will be so impressed The Queen will make me her heir.

#3. While “in” for 72 days (mid-2018 - late 2019): I’m only supporting my preferred charities and best friends, how dare you *coat flick*

#4. While Megxiting (late 2019 - March 2020): I don’t need the royals to do good work. They’re old-fashioned anyway. Watch me hit the ground running and being the bestest duchess to duchess.

#5. During the pandemic (March 2020 - March 2021): I’m not bound by the code of ethics the royals are so I can volunteer and support my most passionate causes, politics and political issues.

#6. While sobbing to Oprah (March 2020 - late 2021): I can’t do anything because Waity Katie gets all the help, attention, and money. I’m just a young black mother.

Next, Meghan loses control of the narrative as everyone shows up for the BRF after the Oprah interview, and even more so after Philip passes away. This collective effort establishes the narrative of Meghan's royal career as actually scornful "I should be getting paid for this" contempt (as summed up by Bower in 2021's Revenge). Meghan tries some things to backtrack over this but she just digs herself in deeper and deeper, leading to three competing narratives over Meghan's work--

a) “No one from the palace helped us, we had to do it all on our own because William and Kate were jealous and refused to let anyone help us.” (Sussexes)

b) “It’s your own fault. Harry should have better prepared you for the realities of royal life and actually, HERE ARE THE RECEIPTS, WE DID TRY TO HELP but you wanted your LA teams to do it instead.” (BRF and Royal Rota)

c) “She never wanted to work, she just wanted the fame and fortune, come on you people, it's so [bleeping] obvious." (The public and most royal watchers)

This lasts until the end of 2021 when Sunshine Sachs/Netflix/Spotify finally dig Meghan out through a few rounds of Olive Branch PR and Jubilee and Hollywood manifestations, leading to...

#8. While finally launching her Megxit career (end of 2021 to September 2022, The Queen’s passing): I’m finally doing the work I was promised I could do by the royal family. Look at what you could've had.

#9. After The Queen’s passing (October 2022 to end of 2022): I just wanted to work but they wouldn't let me do anything because they're jealous.

#10. During the Charles era (2023): I couldn’t do anything because the royals are racist.

And now, #11. Royal Health Crisis (January 2024): I never wanted to be a working royal, Harry made me and he didn’t prepare me appropriately.

[elizabethrobertajones]

"I'm so relieved to have you at my side, my loves," G'raha declared. "The fate of the star was not just in my hands, but yours too, and I cannot say how proud I am of us."

"Even me?" asked Frog, as Erenville rolled his eyes and tried not to look affected by the praise, despite the please twitch of his ears.

"Even you and the Gleaners did your part, Bounding Frog."

Day 5: Alternate Universe | In Another Life

"Oh, I don't think much about alternate universes except joke ones where Frog runs off with the Fuath but there's not like any lore or anything - Oh my god that one time Frog trolled Erenville by pretending to be a new Gleaner." *immediately comes up with 3 pages of backstory*

Anyway meet fucked up Allagan bloodline Erenville, Gleaner Frog and Warrior of Light G'raha :D (I really ought to have made Frog's colour scheme without the pink but it's so much a part of her I forgot it's from her Azem legacy until long after I posed and took the picture :P Really, G'raha should have pink highlights and a pink eye since I only have 1 canon Azem who is the forebear of any WoL in any AU I have and they have the Blessing of Pastel Pink Aesthetics they pass on)

Not a canon relationship as of the current waning days of Endwalker we're in and I can feel Frog trying to kill me with her mind for putting her this close to Erenville because this is currently her Nemesis and I am being a very bad blorbo caretaker by shipping them before plot has elapsed... But Erenville doesn't scare me as much as Y'shtola does so I can get away with it as long as Frog can't become so OP she can reach out of the fourth wall and murder me :P May be a level 100 ability but I hope the narrative gives me an opportunity to set her up with Erenville before then. And of course I ship G'rerenville 5eva.

WoL!G'raha's special interest wouldn't just be Allagan horrors but ALL the horrors and he'd know the most about manipulating aether for combat against primals and how to kill them all. It's joked that Hydaelyn blessed him with the Echo because she wanted to spare him bothering Krile with any more questions and tests and puzzles, and gave him the Blessing of Light so he could go off and do his own research. He made a beeline for the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and became their champion with a try hard attitude and known for his enthusiastic thumbs up whenever tasked with the hardest task.

Erenville diligently and quietly studied all he could on Allagan Horrors to learn what his family's dark secret was, but never made it too well known why he was studying it, or that his one gold one red eyes were anything strange. However, his quiet competence got him sent to Erozea to help Rammbroes, and despite all his attempts to lay low, he found himself there at the unlocking of the Crystal Tower, learning way too much about himself in front of people who couldn't unhear it, and pushed along by an over-enthusiastic Warrior of Light who could not shut up about how great an advantage such a magical connection could be. Still, Erenville is calm and professional and when the time came and he knew there was no other way, he shooed the Sons of St Coinach out of the Tower and looked almost dispassionately over his shoulder to G'raha and bid him farewell.

The Exarch was, of course, 1000x more impenetrably vague and annoying but - and this was rather difficult for the Exarch to handle - the huge dark ears sticking out of his hood did give G'raha a hint about who he may be dealing with, though he suspected all sorts of terrible things like Allagan clone or robot and so on before daring to hope it was truly Erenville - when he realised the plan was to tidily pack himself and the Light away with a minimum of melodrama and fuss. This was mostly because of the extremely intricate plans for running the Crystarium in his absence that Erenville had bequeathed before they left for Mt Gulg. It was all just too like him.

G'raha made a ten times more melodramatic intervention while actively coughing up Light everywhere, but Emet-Selch is going to Emet-Selch and can't stand the Warrior of Light being as big a drama queen as he is so he just shoots Erenville and kidnaps him to the Tempest because he's fed up of G'raha talking and posing. A rescue was mounted, love confessed, everyone forgave everyone and cried a lot etc etc.

Erenville joined the Scions after that and provided a sensible counterpoint, inexplicably becoming close to Alisaie (she reminds him of Wuk Lamat but he still hasn't disclosed an onze of backstory).

When they come to Sharlayan for help to stop the final days, they meet an over-worked but still cheerful Gleaner who can lift a whole Troll over her shoulder, and is very helpful and friendly winking and showing them the secret paths. Of course, Bounding Frog is a born Gleaner - she's loved animals forever and had mapped the whole mountain ecosystem around her home village. Sent to Sharlayan by her parents to study the things she loves, she'd quickly risen through the ranks of the Gleaners to become one of their trustiest hands.

She did see through G'raha hopping around as a frog instantly, and on hearing of the incident Erenville only wryly said "I'm sure I could have played a better toad." This could not be disputed, as Y'shtola refused to cast the spell frivolously to settle their debate.

Frog kept in contact and kept them updated on events in Sharlayan once they left to take the fight to the Telophoroi and kept them updated on the Blasphemies once the final days began; by the time G'raha returned from Elpis having learned of an Azem somehow even more annoying that the most annoying interpretation of Azem you've previously heard of, they had all become very fond of one another. By the time they set off for the stars, G'raha and Erenville had admitted to each other they both had a huge crush on the huge Gleaner, and she in turn was waiting for their return more anxious for them than the entire fate of the star.

And of course once they came back from Ultima Thule, Frog's only problem was working out which one of them to smooch first, before carrying G'raha off somewhere quiet to sit and hug and be extremely relieved and happy together :')

[shiyorin]

How do you think the primarchs react when their loved ones broke with them?

You dare broke with a primarch?

Bold move, I have to admit. The balls on that, though. That's some serious bravery. Or lunacy. Or both. Could be both.

He would be sad but he would be fine and move on: Khan, Vulkan, Guilliman, Dorn.

Really, Khan and Vulkan wouldn't bother thinking about it for too long. Both can just handle it and move past it. Dorn would feel very conflicted inside, but he wouldn't show any weakness. He's too tough. Guilliman might just shrug and say "Well, my life's shit."

He is very sad: Corax

Corax would be the kind to just lock himself in a room and just mope for days and days, maybe write some poetry about what happened. As for the other party? Oh, you'd better watch out, because when Corax is sad, he's mean.

He said he's fine but he's not fine. Yes, but….: Sanguinius, Fulgrim, Horus.

If Sanguinius gets mad at you, you are not fine. He will hold a grudge until you either get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness or he ends you. In the past, he's done either one without much thought. He is far, far more frightening than his calm disposition would lead you to believe.

Fulgrim is similar, though not so extreme (or more extreme). He is a man of high emotion and of deep ego. You'd have to grovel before him and accept full responsibility for your mistake.

Horus? He is the fucking Warmaster! How dare you dumped him like that!!!

You are not dumped him, he dumped you: Lion, Ferrus, Perturabo.

Lion would just stand in your presence and stare, unmoving, unblinking, and silent. The sheer aura of authority and the power of his will alone is enough to make someone feel terrible, but the fact that you're still standing there? The fact that you haven't started running? That has him very upset.

Ferrus and Perturabo would get pissed. I mean pissed. They'd be fuming, they'd be seeing red, they'd be seething from every pore, and their eyes would go wide as they try to figure out the right words to yell at you. But they won't say a word and then they'd hold a grudge for years.

You broke up with him but he doesn't know or notice it. Until one day he realized you two broke up: Magnus, Russ.

Magnus would be confused as hell. He'd probably think he might be losing his mind or some warp something, and start freaking out. And then he become utterly furious. So much so that the galaxy itself would probably shake a little, and it wouldn't take him long to find you either. You'd never be able to hide from him.

Russ, meanwhile, would not even notice until someone else points it out. Even then, he might not understand. That's how oblivious he is. But if he knows, he would pleased at being single again, since that means he can go back to doing what he likes the most: hunting and killing, with occasional breaks to relax and drink with the boys on the weekend. Yes, that would be a coping mechanism. Russ would tell himself it was fine and move on, but he'd be lying a bit to himself.

You should've ghosted him right after the first date (or didn't go to the first date). But no, you gave him a chance and entered his life. Now you have to deal with it. Run! : Angron, Mortarion, Lorgar, Konrad.

Like I said, just run, don't ask.

You can't broke up with him: Alpharius & Omegon

You can try, but I genuinely don't think you could.

[cinna-rose]

So I replayed the Baxter dlc and got hit with inspiration. I 100% believe that as soon as Baxter left the restaurant, he was freaking out. So here's my attempt on how that went.

"I'll leave you to catch up and discuss the next steps on your own terms. I will see some or perhaps all of you soon."

"Have a nice evening."

It was as if I was trying to get out of there quickly. Was it because I was trying to run? To avoid the one thing - the one person - that'll always be a cruel reminder of what I've done.

Why?

Why did it have to be him?

Sora Last.

Once I was far from staring eyes, the walls I'd been holding up so well came crashing down instantly. Perfect posture turned into a desperation to keep balance from falling from shock - trying to keep something of stability by holding myself.

To try and protect myself.

How could Sora Last be the one to make me feel so weak - even after five years of distance?

Distance because of me.

It doesn't make sense. How did I get so attached? We were nothing more than a summer fling!? He was supposed to be like all the others - a fun experience for a time before we cut ties. It's the normal for me - and Sora managed to break that.

Who am I kidding? I know why - It's because no one was like him. I hate yet adore how kind he is. Everything that Sora Last is pure kindness. No matter what I did, he never gave me a judgeful look or expected more. Always understanding and empathetic, Sora was someone special.

Someone I could never hope to keep for myself.

No. Sora doesn't need me. He didn't need me then, and he doesn't need me now. Sora seemed to be doing well on his own. He needs someone who can give him everything he wants.

I don't think I ever was that someone for him.

I forced myself out of my thoughts and decided that leaning against a wall and reflecting on the past wouldn't be the best look. I managed to collect myself before actually leaving.

...

Once in the safety of solitude in my apartment, I allowed myself to relax and process the situation.

Sora Last, by chance, was back in my life.

I almost can't believe it, but I can't get what he said out of my head.

"I thought you weren't coming back."

The way he said it, the look in his eyes that had all kinds of emotions inside, and the way he stepped closer. I can't get it out of my head. It was a moment of weakness, yet I can't say that I don't mind seeing him again.

I knew he missed me. There had to be a reason why he kept messaging me after a while. Sora would always say in the guise of checking on me, but that fell apart when their messages would ask for a sign.

Reaching for my phone, I went straight to Sora's number to read through past messages from Sora. They ranged from casual check-ins to pleas to try and talk.

Even after all these years, I could never delete his number. I could come up with reason after reason to convince myself, but I never went through ridding the one connection I had left to Sora - even if I wouldn't dare to meet him halfway.

Yet, I can't help but think I deserved worse from Sora. I hurt him and treated him terribly after everything was over. He didn't act upset - he just smiled and accepted my presence.

I wonder what he was thinking when he saw me again. How is he handling this?

What if this could be another chance?

No.

What Sora and I had is over. There's no point in bringing up old wounds when there's a wedding to focus on. Once this is over, we go our separate ways, and Sora can stay in my memories.

Sora will be okay. He can move on from me. He doesn't need me in his life.

It's better this way.

It's for the both of us.

[overnightheartbeats]

continued from here // @cursivebloodlines

Getting a call from Tessa usually meant there was a plan in progress. Diego knew he had to prepare for some last minute adventure. He may not tell her, but he had learned to love that about her. He was almost certain that, without her, he would rarely leave the house. That's how he ended up here, still in his work suit - rushing to catch the sunset at this view she swore was the best of the city. He didn't fight her on that statement, at least not yet. Diego had a few spots of his own, though now, he wasn't too sure if they rivaled this one. Besides, it was also a plus that she even chose to show him this place.

Diego laid next to her, tossing his backpack to the side and allowing himself to be captivated by this. The view, the company, and just...the day. It was all mesmerizing, though it also helped that they had not started bickering about their latest disagreement. It was inevitable, a matter of time before one of them said the wrong thing. It was always easy for him to talk back or take her sass, probably because Diego knew that they were close at the end of the day. That, this was their way of communicating and despite it all, they really care about each other. The idea of caring about each other had been on his mind lately. Taking over all his thoughts. Once, he had told her the wrong thing. The right thing to shoot all hope down, but the wrong thing for him and what he truly wanted. It was easier to believe that things were less messy that way, that they couldn't handle an extra layer of chaos now. Still, the question wouldn't leave his mind. Do you love me? A hint of regret immediately made its presence known. Why poke the bear when he had already shot it all down? He couldn't answer that.

As the night took over, Diego was grateful for the darkness. It helped hide some of his embarrassment for asking. He didn't dare look over, the question filling the air and his gaze on the sky. Anyone would guess he asked the stars if they loved him, but Tess knew otherwise. Diego knew. He continued looking up, the words quickly leaving his mouth. "You know what I mean..." Why were they pretending otherwise?

Finally, he turned over to see her. Maybe her face said what she was delaying. Diego liked to believe he could read faces pretty well, it came with the job after all. His eyes closed slowly upon feeling her touch, he didn't fight it or question it. He didn't want to say anything to scare her off. Diego felt her closer, the way her skin brushed against his. He almost wondered if this was his answer, if that's all he needed to know. Would he be content with that? With the in between? In that moment, he answered his own questions. Yes and yes. He could live with whatever she was willing to give him. Anything her generosity could offer.

But, no. Eventually, he would want more. All or nothing. He wanted to be the guy that could be satisfied with crumbs, with bits of love, but that wasn't him. He needed to know that he had earned someone's love, that he could give his love freely without fear that one day it'd be too much. But maybe for her...maybe he could pretend to be satisfied with pieces.

He followed her lead, sitting up on the blanket. The moment was over, the area her fingertips touched now felt cold. Empty. Diego shook his head slowly, knowing this answer all too well. As friends, of course. It felt like an easy let down. Though, maybe he deserved it. He studied her face, the way her eyes missed his, the way she had shifted closer to him, but now moved slightly back when she sat up. Impossible to read. All he did read was that she was nervous. "Friends, that I understand." Inevitably, he rolled his eyes at her last remark. Did she really think he'd joke about this? "Why would I be joking about this? It's a terrible joke." A hand ran through his hair, a deep breath falling from his lips. "I don't mean as friends. I have been thinking a lot about us. I know our last conversation...it was bad. Consider this a redo. Do you have..other feelings for me?"

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

The King of Clubs and Swords

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO (knots, slick, mpreg), Viking/god Col, fae Dom, plot heavy chapter, fluff, PTSD, fear, sadness, strong implications of miscarriage (Dom's), mentions of murder (sort of planning), threats, MF hate (obviously), mentions of forced poisoning (Tom), changing oneself (Tom), fears of not being good enough, panic/pain attack (Col), punching a table, baby making everything better, again a surprising amount of fluff for all the warnings ☠️ rating: mature ☠️ shared ideas by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

With their men away gathering food from the kitchen and Inga and Tavis playing with Ciarán and his toys as if they were searching for something they'd never be able to have with Modig- Dom felt comfortable enough to ask his kin a few gentle questions. Well… the questions were probing but he'd attempt to be careful about asking. He was sure he could be a courteous queen. Careful. Polite. "If ya'd told me I would 'ave run away wiv ya sooner Tom. Gods… Wha'd 'ey give you?" So… maybe he couldn't be. Not when it came to his parents. How dare they. He knew they were terrible to him but he could endure that, if he'd known… "I would 'ave kept you safe." The last was almost a whimper but he was trying to be strong for his friend.

Tom huffed, pulling his hair over one shoulder. He was wildly uncomfortable talking about himself with his prince, the boy was good at accidentally focusing on himself and it worked for them. It always had. But since meeting Kol the boy had opened up and started trying to actually get others to talk. How strange. "It was my job to keep you safe. Not the other way around. Just because…" He swallowed hard and tried not to grumble. His gaze had to move away from Dom or he wouldn't be able to speak. The siren was always too bloody earnest and his eyes far too intent and pup-like. Instead he watched the baby playing and remembered when they were that size. He was raised right along with his prince, almost since day one. His parents had just lied too well about his body he supposed.

"Just because they were trying to protect how special you were doesn't make this your fault. I never wanted to be… this, so when they offered me something to stop it…" He took another deep breath, he was comforted by the boy of course but it was still difficult. He'd only been able to tell Mod by thought alone. "You're stronger emotionally. I knew you could handle it. I couldn't. I saw how they treated you- how everyone treated you. I didn't wish to be… sold like that even though I already had been to your family. I didn't want to be-"

"So much meat? Yeah not me favorite fing." Dom knew he was just trying to be careful but he understood the reasoning behind what Tom was saying. He did get it. He had been raised like a prized cow for the slaughter. Keep it plump but not too, keep it bathed and pretty, wait until it's ripe and ready and-

"They demanded I take a tincture that would hide my heats and stop my um… production." Tom blushed at the thought. He hadn't felt slick until he was with Modig. They stopped his first heat before it even hinted at beginning and even after running he spent far too much time in his second skin for anything to happen. "I was following orders and I- I didn't think I could handle it. It hurt sure, made me ill at times but it left me able to care for you. While we traveled I never even thought about it until… well when you left I met Mush and the first time I slipped my skin I felt odd." His voice went soft and dreamy, a little smile curled his lips as he pet softly over his belly absentmindedly. After a moment he cleared his throat and shook himself. Dom loved seeing him lost in thought like that. "I still don't think everything works properly… I worry. We have to use-" He flushed so pink that his prince giggled.

"'Elp?" He offered teasingly. "No shame in it, when I want to play wiv Kol a bit I use-"

"Oh gods! I don't want to know!" Tom's voice went high and they laughed together, the boy always knew how to cheer him up. "But yes. I… it's all a bit off. I worry it's not hospitable for a babe."

"Nah. 'Ospitable? Jus' fhrow a few pillows around and shove a nice rug up 'ere. You'll be fine." Dom couldn't help teasing him, the man just talked so properly sometimes. He kept thinking he'd loosen up now that they were around Viking's all the time but no, Tom was just Tom and he loved him to bits. "I know wha' it's like to be scared. I know wha' tha' fear is. I can't imagine losing 'em but… I believe it's meant to be and nuffin will 'urt tha'." More than anything he believed that Tom deserved to be happy and he refused to let fate take this from him. He'd fight the bitch if he had to.

"I'm scared Damhnaic. I've… I've never loved anything so much." The selkie whimpered so softly he barely heard it but his hand found Tom's and squeezed. "I didn't think I could wish to protect anything more than you… I don't know what I'll do if I lose-" He paused, his jaw clamping shut and flexing. "Oh gods! I wasn't thinking. I- I'm so sorry!"

"Wha'? For loving ya babe more 'an me? I'd bloody 'ope so." He huffed back, grinning wide. He knew what Tom was apologizing for though and try as he might he couldn't fight back the tears that welled his eyes. He'd been doing so well ignoring the elephant in the room and he kept trying. They were talking about happy things and they didn't know… they didn't. But they knew she tried.

"You've always been stronger than me. You've always been able to go on and rise above. I was trained to keep you safe but you… you keep me safe in so many ways. Gods I couldn't do this without you." Tom sniffled and made a face at himself as if he were so annoyed by his own emotions.

"Lucky we doing it togever 'en aye? Don't worry, the crying fing gets better when 'ey out." He lied smoothly and Tom chuckled. There was a whole host of things they weren't saying but at least they were talking.

☠️⚔️☠️

"You happy brother? You still look a bit shaken up." Kol'son tried to tease his best friend as they put together a feast of snacks. It was hard to get Dom to eat an actual meal but put different small things in front of him and he'd eat enough it added up. He didn't have to understand it, as long as he was taking care of his mate he was happy.

"Um… Yeah. I'm scared shitless though. They hurt him Kol, bad. I'm scared this will be traumatic for him and I don't… I don't want that. I figured eventually we'd try with like… magic or something, fuck if I know. But he doesn't even call me his lover. Plus you know how… how messy my mind is. How can I be a dad? I thought I was broken." Mod had never had trouble speaking his mind or from the heart. It was something the Viking had always admired and now his mate was the same. It was funny in a way, he knew he and Tom only butted heads so much because they were so similar. He and his cousin had found mate's that matched each other.

"I think we've seen a really broken man now but he still cares for those around him and can feel love. I don't think being broken means you can't be happy. I never thought you were completely broken anyway brother, maybe just a little… bent." He teased and his kin tossed a slice of meat at his face. They couldn't devolve into a food fight, their omegas and Inga would kill them for the waste.

"I'm perfectly shaped bitch, just ask Tom." Mod joked back, not really wanting to think too deeply about his father yet. He wanted to focus on the happy stuff and leave the rest for a good tight cuddle and emotional talk with his… love later. He still wasn't quite sure what to call him. "Are you good though?" He asked softly. He knew it was almost impossible to get the chief to open up but sometimes the god would talk to him if something was really weighing on him. Just because they had partners didn't mean they couldn't stay bonded as close as they'd always been.

"What? Yeah, why? We're focused on you here. Ya know, dad back from the dead and baby on the way?" The leader huffed, frustrated that the halfling was so soft hearted he wouldn't let the focus linger long.

"And? You just found out the bitch who bad touched you, took your children, and tried to kill your mate just to get in your pants. I'd be pissed." Mod hadn't been looking across the table at his friend when he made the statement but a knife clattered to the floor after the words were out of his mouth. The Viking gasped softly and Mod's gaze snapped up to take in the lost look on Kol's face. His lips seemed somehow thinner and they quivered as if he were trying not to cry. He knew Tom would chide him for not being more careful of his words but he didn't normally censor himself with his kin. "Shit. I'm sorry. Breathe. Hey, maybe I'm wrong? Kol'son breathe okay?" He was scared to move around the table and hug the man, sometimes it helped and sometimes it drove his sadness to anger.

Kol took a breath but before he could stop himself his fist was smashing into the table. Thankfully he held back his true strength or it would have splintered. As it was, the thing creaked and shook. "I'm breathing. I'm… I want her dead. She took- she-" He couldn't finish his sentence. How was he supposed to? His soul ached with the thoughts that weighed so heavy on his mind. They tried every heat but they just thought they were spotty. They came in every few months instead of regularly like before Cia. And Ciarán- gods someone may have been poisoning him. He'd never been so glad to make his child half god. They refused to give the boy the binding tattoos like he had been given. Cia would grow into himself exactly as he was supposed to and because of the wolf inside him he was safe from that… that…

Mod rushed around the table to hug his best friend to his chest. He could feel the scream before it came and he tried to hide Kol's pain against his skin. He didn't want their pregnant mates worrying and rushing in. He knew Kol wouldn't want Dom seeing him like that. If there were words he couldn't make them out, his cousin just needed a moment to break and he completely understood. He was just glad he could help. "We'll end her. I swear it Kol'son. You'll have your vengeance. Shit I'll bleed her dry myself and make a necklace of her blood you can always look at to remember you won." He vowed but the man just fell to his knees and cried against him.

Kol never thought the day would come that vengeance didn't feel like enough. No matter what they did to her it wouldn't bring back anything they lost. "Hey, you have some on the way right? She didn't win and she won't. We'll get her. I'm just sorry I didn't hear it from her. I could have stopped her. Some people are just fuzzy to me. I think Harald used my father to protect his family from magic." Mod felt himself almost growling and he tried to shake it off. He was never really that kind of man. He didn't think at least.

☠️⚔️☠️

Eventually they calmed enough to part and Kol splashed his face from the bucket of drinking water before they got the food together and took it back to their mates. The boys were speaking in hushed tones and giggling occasionally and it eased the pain in both their chests. Kol was more grateful for his closest kin than he knew how to explain, he needed to be strong for Dom. Not fall to pieces. "Here ya go ástin min, sorry it took us a bit." He tried to smooth out his voice but he knew he probably made it gravel when he screamed.

The siren worried the second their eyes met. Kol's were red and his skin looked paler than usual but he was sure he and Tom matched. It seemed as if both pairs had opened up more than they'd meant to and he was thankful they all had each other. While Kol was getting everything arranged for him he met Mod's gaze and arched a brow. 'He's… sensitive. Megna.' That soft voice floated through his mind and he swallowed hard. They thought they'd heard a scream but they weren't sure.

"Daidí, me arse 'urts. Be me cushion?" He asked with a gentle smile and a wiggle of his aching hips.

Kol grinned back but it felt thin and dead. Of course he would keep his mate comfortable but first… Dom gasped when his chair was pulled back and the Viking dropped to his knees so hard he swore he heard something crack. He blushed when his love opened the front of his tunic and he was thankful for the skirt around his waist but when Kol pressed his cheek against his swell and sniffled Dom almost whined. Oh gods. It always broke him when his wolf was emotional. "'Ey okay daidí. We okay." He soothed, petting over the man's hair but Kol just needed a little while to snuggle. Reorient himself.

Before long he pulled back and stood to fix the seat and pick Dom up as if he weighed nothing. Thankfully the other couple didn't call attention to them. They understood. They saw him as a stronger leader when he wasn't so shamed by emotions. The siren curled close as Kol'son took a seat and hand fed his wife. He made sure to taste everything first though. Just in case.

They were so wrapped up in themselves they didn't realize Inga and Tavis joined them until she started to talk. "I need you to find who messed with my food boys. I'm not happy. Do you think it was the food? Or… water? Gods just bring her to me. I'll deal with her." They were used to her getting fired up but Tavis soothed her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and pressing a kiss to her cheek that made her giggle. "Stop it you, I'm trying to be angry." She huffed, feeding Cia a piece of honeyed bread where he sat frog legged on the table between them all.

"Someone so beautiful shouldn't have to feel such rage. I wish to make life for you as perfect as you are." The fairy prince whispered loud enough for everyone to hear.

Kol'son had a bite of bread halfway to his lover's lips when they all heard him flirt and he froze that way, they were all blushing softly. "I guess I need to step up my game." He huffed and Dom laughed but he loved to see Inga so happy.

"You really do. Tavis might teach us we deserve better. Don't ya fink Tom?" He joked back.

"Mmm, at least Mush tries. Maybe in a few hundred years he'll be that smooth." The selkie purred and both their men huffed softly.

"I suppose I could teach you both but it's just honesty. You speak from the heart and they swoon." They could tell he was still nervous but he seemed to be growing more comfortable and it helped the tension overall. One thing at a time. That's all they could handle.

"I fink me alpha jus' speaks from the cock." Dom hummed before curling his lips around his lover's fingers to take the bite he was offering.

"You love it." The Viking growled back and he had to admit he did. But he wouldn't say it aloud.

"He's young yet, give him time. Modig though, I would hope my child would take after me." He was hesitant to tease the halfling but they all seemed to needle each other. He hoped it would make them like him more. Accept him.

"Hey, I'm as romantic as they come. This bastard won't let me be sweet. He gags if I try to even compliment how pretty his eyes are. Or his lips. Or-" Before Mod could finish his sentence Tom was faux gagging and Kol'son joined in with him. "You see what I put up with." He huffed and his parents laughed.

"He will soften. Just you wait and see. I can't imagine that first moment of holding your babe in your arms and seeing… seeing their beauty. Even the toughest of men crumble."

To break up the sadness and attempt to keep the levity flowing Dom had to add- "Aye, he's right. Kol cried like a bitch when he 'eld Cia."

The baby looked up at his name and giggled. Of course he had no idea what exactly they were talking about or how much pain was just underneath the surface for them all but that's what made his innocence so helpful. Perfect. Beautiful. His cherub cheeks were round as apples when he grinned and showed off his little fangs. He had two fistfuls of food, his palms sticky with honey, but he crawled across the table to sweetly feed his mother. He always tried to copy Kol. "Da sad?"

"No baby, daidí was very 'appy. We talking about when you was born." Dom cooed between sticky bites of bread. He was sure it was covered in a bit of dirt but it wouldn't be the first time that day he ate some.

"I was baby?" He asked. They'd been trying to explain about his little siblings. How they grew inside Dom and would be little babes when they came out.

"You're still baby to me but yes, you were very small. You fit in daidí's palm! Even 'ough I 'ated when he did tha'." He grumbled back.

"You'll be thankful I can when you're holding one and I'm double fist-" The Viking stopped short and cleared his throat, that definitely wasn't the right term. "When I've got one in each hand."

"Don't you mean Dom will have t-" Inga elbowed her lost love before he could finish the word 'two'. They'd all seen how many marks he left over the queen's belly, they didn't need to overwhelm anyone right now. "Right yes. What is double fisting? It made sense to me." And as his family started laughing around him and attempting to explain with words that were safe around the little chief, Tavis sat back and wondered if his woman was still of fertile age. How do you ask something like that gently? By his math she was only into her third decade, Modig wasn't very old yet. Perhaps close to her fourth but he had magic on his side. He just wondered if she would want to. He felt oddly at peace even though everything was such a mess. He admired them all for their ability to still love and find happiness in the midst of fear. It was a beautiful thing. But he supposed vengeance was just around the corner and revenge like that kept brutal men calm.

Author's Note/Tags: @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @manicpixiedreamb0y @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

I hope someone caught the necklace reference, I wanted to make it vengeance instead 😅 I hope you enjoyed the angst and fluff. A little hurt/comfort for all of them. Poor Tavis is a little out of the loop but oh my does he have ideas 👀 poor babies though. All of them. I hope you enjoyed 🖤☠️

[leggerefiore]

Under the premise of their partner never promising to Not leave a lipstick kiss mark but saying they'd try their best under the give and take only if the boys pick their favorite color for a lipstick what color would they choose? (Emin included I love that man)

emin wins by just existing lol

let's do a few (lot of) characters since I've been neglecting the other boys (and girls...) of this blog. a bit of your ask and also answering just what shades they like in general!

● Ingo is a bit more classic than he'd like to admit. Traditional reds draw him in and hold him. The colour holds many images from childhood from him with his mother getting ready. Though, there is a secret fascination when his partner wears black lipstick. That's his shade, he knows. It's like a secret thing between the two of you, with it decorating your lips.

○ Emmet likes… Pinks, admittedly. Yes, he's aware they're a bit boring, but there are shades that are fun and bright! He also likes glossy lipsticks, adoring the shine it offers. His lips twitch up into a bright smile at the sight of his partner wearing white lipstick. It's bold and different… It makes him excited. Other than pinks, he likes bold, fun colours, too.

● Emin is torn between the traditional beauty of reds and the certain cuteness that pinks provide. Much like his taste in general, he gets caught between adoring cute things and enjoying a mature sense of dress. Should his partner dare a grey tone, he'll stare at them. His colour shade on their lips forces him to sit down and not act on his first thought and actions.

☄️ Cyrus likes… muted, natural colours. He thinks make up are useless to him, but if they make his partner happy… He's already overlooking so much for them. Why not another? He appreciates your tastes, so he'll trust you on this.

⭐️ Volo is terrible and wants something hard like a gold to wear because he's mean. His colour preference leans into the more common colours of the time, so he likes reds. Though, a nice green wouldn't be a bad choice if it exists.

🌟 Elesa cups her partner's face and scrutinises them before pulling out a complimentary lipstick to their skin tone. It's intense. Though, personally, she would adore more fun colours and styles of makeup. It's not often she gets to go too wild with her makeup looks, so when her partner steps outside of the mould, she's adoring it. A vibrant yellow or chilling azure is brave and bold. Please stamp it on her and make her manager mad.

💜 Lucy, naturally, likes purples. Her colour looks great on you, and you can both match… She likes this idea a lot. She's also fond of black shades on you. Perhaps a bold two-tone of purple and black? She'll happily let the colour decorate her skin, unlike certain other people.

♤ Grimsley's hand bumps into Ingo's in the lipstick section, and they stare at each other for a moment. He likes reds and blacks, naturally. He usually dresses quite elegantly for the events he attends, and his partner may have to join him in style. Though, he also adores a rare decision for a navy-blue shade. He'll let them cover him in the colour proudly.

🌑 Nanu likes… nothing really. No strong preferences any which way. His partner knows their colours and trusts them to handle themselves. He does like lavender for a certain feline related reason and a little black, too, for that matter.

💀 Guzma prefers blacks and whites, duh. Well, actually he likes bright, neon colours, too. Pinks and reds are dull and make him think of the annoying people in his life. Wear a bright neon magenta, though. He's interested. Or a bright purple for that matter. Makes him think of his Golisopod as weird as that is.

🟢 N smiles. What's lipstick? He thinks his partner looks lovely in any colour. He does quite like pinks and natural tones. He's a bit basic, so please don't be too harsh. A green shade can catch his attention, however. Trying to match his hair is something he thinks is sweet.

[landthatplane-blog]

Random DR thoughts Part 34.5 - jk. Latest thoughts -

Who do people keep saying Daniel won't be back or this is his last F1 race ever? He needs the year off - he's explicitly said so. I hope even Jenson Button (clearly cares for DR but also hasn't helped by criticizing him publically) seems to finally get it. Loved how passionate Jenson is about him and his belief in Daniel, but he should just be a friend or speak privately) or publically acknowledge nobody knows what could happen. You can just see and hear it in Daniel's interviews. Man is ready to take a 2-month nap.

The truth is the same teams that are avail currently like Haas, Williams (and more) will still be there. For them to get someone of Daniel's caliber, the door will always be open. Daniel specifically said it isn't about Haas/Williams. And has stated if he gets in a car now, and doesn't have the spirit and fight needed and ends up in another failed campaign, his F1 career would be over anyways. He admitted he can't keep on weight from the stress. For the 10 years before he handled the stress beautifully, clearly this is an outlier. Can people please listen to him?

Clearly trying to maintain professionalism for the team/this year is taking its toll. Notice he did not thank or mention Zak or Andreas in his letter (nor did Zak post about DR today). He's started to slip by mentioning the contract situation during interviews - like we can't avoid talking about it. The truth is everyone's tired of maintaining everything's ok. Again - do I wish McLaren or even journalists would acknowledge McLaren's role more? Only Sebastian Vettel has dared to make such a remark. Everyone dances around it. Much easier to critize Daniel, then hold the team accountable for having gone about the process so terribly. No one wants to make enemies so everyone just skirts around. He, again, like a grown up, accepted responsibility for poor results. What is heartening is clearly the McLaren team love Daniel. I love that he and Lando found a way to, it seems, have a genuine friendship! In any event, EVERYONE is tired of maintaining the elephant in the room.

He just needs a break.

If Magnusson and Hulkenberg can bump into these team sideways and manage to find seats after 2-3 years away, why wouldn't Daniel have a chance to do so? I'm sure a DR at 100% in 2024, should he decide he wants to, will be fine. I kind of can't wait for him to be a menace during specific races in 2023 once he's had some time! Of course, his choices at top teams are limited, but the market will always have movement, and while re might not be better, one can only hope!

I saw some takes on here that did make me sad. Daniel should be able to have the same kind of send off as Seb or Kimi -it's true. Heartbreaking. I'm choosing to believe this isn't the actual end. If they started the send offs now, it would feel like a true ending. He does however eventually deserve a proper send off!

Fantasy thinking (for fun, joke): Max wants him back as a teammate, he'll clearly make it so!! I mean, that hug today 🥺?? Alonso and Stroll Sr and Jr will for sure have issues. Don't think Alonso thought through this move. If he's already pissed about Alpine/Esteban - why put yourself in a place where you have to work with your boss' son?! As sometime who has to work with a nepotism hire, trust, you can't win! Starting to feel like I’m writing 2023 DTS scenes. Ha. Someone said a lot of people on the grid need to be on their best because Daniel is a good option - and they do!

People forget F1 isn't singularly about the sport/results. It is a money driven business, and Daniel's value - in addition to his skills -come into okay as well. It would be curious to better understand how impactful it is.

(Ok, off soap box. Even as this entire day has been a dumpster fire of emotions.)

[deputygonebye]

@wexarethewalkingxdead asked: Andrea hadn't thought much about the passing of time or the fact that she knew it had to be pushing late September and remembered Shane mentioning that his birthday was later on in that month. She wasn't the sentimental type. Well, not anymore. Not since getting Amy the mermaid necklace back in Atlanta, but something deep down inside her wanted her to keep some traditions alive. Birthdays were simple, right?

So she spent days searching for the right gift for him. And she finally found it when they lucked up on a department store that hadn't been ransacked as badly as the others they had already checked. She managed to slip it into her pack without him noticing and then managed to find some orange tissue paper to wrap it in. There was a tube of wrapping paper as well, but that wasn't as easy to conceal as the tissue paper. And it wasn't as practical either.

She went off to herself that night to wrap it carefully. She managed to find a small box to slip it into so that he wouldn't know what it was from simply the shape of it. She smirked as she looked at the finished product before picking it up and approaching him slowly.

"Not sure if it's still September or even if it is September at all, but Happy Birthday." She pulled the small box from behind her back and offered it to him. "It's not much…"

Happy Birthday, Shane!

Two lone outlaws with nothing but the sun on their backs for company. A packet of peanuts for dinner, if ever Shane and Andrea were so lucky, a quarter of water left still in the plastic bottles that they carried for drink. Dangerous was the life they shared together, but better was it spent than remaining as black sheep among their former group. Wherever that little family went, further into the woods or past the crumbled cities, Shane knew that they would be alright. Just as he had left them - with promise and good fortune prayed for - Andrea beside him and the long road before them both. It wasn't so terrible a journey. Days bled into each other, unable to be distinguished but not so bad as would've been imagined, companionship in Andrea was more of a comfort than Shane dared to admit. A warmth that kept him safe when the nights grew cold. A bliss that didn't end; somehow made the Walkers easier to bear. Foul flesh that was more of an annoyance than true threat, an enemy that could be defeated just through conviction alone, birthdays memorable despite the lack of party streamers and confetti.

Box opened with mindful hands, gentle around the corners but dedicated with the tissue paper, torn without resistance, Shane admired the coffee mug as if it were pure silver rather than ivory porcelain. Dusty around the rim, a few chips nearest the handle, the mug wasn't perfect, but Shane didn't wish for it to be. Preferred it just as it was, smiled as he inspected the cup in his hands, bold black print read: Life Is About More Than Coffee.

"Thank you." Shane said, smile still upon his lips, a glint to brown eyes that spoke of wanting his birthday cake and eating it, too. "To tell you the truth, I almost forgot about the day myself. Bein' out here, time goes by different. Don't count the same as it used to. But let me be clear, I will be usin' this from here on out. Better to be drinkin' my water out of a good mug than from a days old piece of garbage plastic. You better start doin' the same, too. Ain't no reason for you to be gettin' crud backwash when there's a decent cup for us to split. That's just what we're gonna have to start doin' a lot of now, you know. Sharin' and everything."

Shane stepped closer to her, gaze fallen from her blues to her lips. "I don't mind sharin' things with you, Andrea. Hey, what do you say to doin' a bit more birthday celebratin'? Just you and me. I don't think I'm ready for this party to end yet."

[flameraven]

Good Omens S2 - Episode 2, Liveblog

I really really liked this episode!

I was really curious how they were going to handle the Job story, because it's a really difficult one, but having seen it, I feel like it's the perfect choice to have Aziraphale and Crowley work together for the first time. Both of them are struggling with their assignments and it's a particularly good one for Aziraphale's character development since he really has to grapple with the cruelty of Heaven in a more direct way than the Flood.

"We're not killing anyone, we're just not stopping Hell." Perfect summation of Heaven's viewpoint, and Aziraphale cannot accept it, but he is also still too focused on being a Good Angel to defy them-- at least, on his own.

That said the opening scene with Aziraphale going all avenging angel-- "AVAUNT, FOUL DEMON-- oh hey it's you!" is hilarious and perfect.

***

I love that Aziraphale is horrified by the idea of alphabetical order and then when he learns it's by the first letter of the first sentence is like "... no that's perfect, carry on."

Nice easter egg slipping the title page of Good Omens in there! I was really anxious he'd pick up the Bible and recover his memories.

The scene with the Archangels visiting the shop was SO stressful! But I guess the miracle worked, even the Archangels couldn't find Gabriel when he was standing in front of them.

The fly buzzing around the shop is very interesting. It doesn't appear to be Beelzebub's. But then who? Satan himself?

'25 lazari" - well we have a unit for measuring miracles now. Interesting.

***

Okay the conversation in the pub is hilarious. First, Aziraphale being bothered by the random Business Association guy, it's an interesting note on how he's sort of social and antisocial at the same time. Attends events, absolutely doesn't want people bothering him about stuff.

CROWLEY KNEW JANE AUSTEN AS A SPY AND SMUGGLER BUT DIDN"T KNOW SHE WROTE BOOKS, FANTASTIC. He knows where everything in the bookshop goes but somehow missed out on seeing the Austen books for 200 years. Amazing, I love it, please give me all the fic about Crowley doing spy shit with Austen.

I love how much we're seeing Crowleys' eyes this season. But you can also see how wary and reserved he is. He's agreed to help solve the problem but he's not happy about it.

***

Everything about the Job story defines the two "poles" that Crowley and Aziraphale are at.

"God wouldn't! [kill the children]"

"Are you sure?"

"They're innocent!"

"So were the goats."

Aziraphale so desperately wants to believe in the ideal, that God wouldn't let these terrible things happen to Job for no reason, and Crowley knows exactly how capricious and cruel God/Heaven can be. It's fitting that they say they haven't met since the Flood since this feels like an escalation of that earlier conversation.

"The angel you knew is not me." - it was very deliberate that we didn't get his name in the Beginning, that angel is gone.

Oh, the GECKOS! I love the little girl being like "can I be a gecko too?" I would probably ask the same.

Crowley tempts Aziraphale into consuming gross matter! He's so good at his job, honestly. "Oh, you're an angel, I don't think you can be tempted. >:)" Too easy, honestly.

Love the discussion of their sides! Crowley is on "my side" even now. "Just a demon who goes along with Hell as far as I can." Aziraphale is on God's side -- "the same God that wants me to kill the kids?" Crowley is always pushing, always forcing Aziraphale to confront what Heaven really is.

His comment about "just to be able to ask the questions" of God, though. You can see his jealousy, even though God is mostly yelling at Job / basically being like "how dare you question me." >:(

And then it all comes together with peak Good Omens shenanigans. "shoemaking and obstetrics," LOL.

And Aziraphale LIES TO GABRIEL! Good job!

***

I've heard a lot of vagueblogging frustration about the ending, but I feel like we get a hint of what it (might) be here-- Aziraphale is remembering, and he looks at Gabriel and says "You were awful." And Gabriel says "Am I awful now?" Aziraphale replies "I hope not."

I feel like that's the core thing that's going to cause Aziraphale to do... whatever thing fandom is upset about. He has tried so SO hard for 6000 years to get Heaven to listen to him, and hoped that they could be better. I think if he gets a chance to try to change them... he'll take it.

***

The scene with Aziraphale asking to drive the Bentley is weird. Someone suggested he's trying to blend their lives together, or be more independent, but the vibes are bad. It feels like he's pushing Crowley's boundaries. The Bentley and the Shop are his only safe spaces, and Hell keeps popping into the Bentley. It feels weird for Aziraphale to also kind of take it away from him, although I don't think Aziraphale intends or understands this.

***

The final scene from Job is just heartbreaking. Aziraphale sure that he's a demon now. (Aziraphale, I think you would notice Falling.) Crowley says he won't take him because "I don't think you'd like it." Admitting that he's lonely! MY HEART.

[nikatyler]

questions 1-9 for ur fav sim

Thank you for the permission to continue the Ross brainrot 😌

1. What common traits do you share with your oc? What about them is the least like you?

He can get easily offended or angered. I hate to admit this but I do too, we're fragile 😂 We're also both the "kinda good at school/job, kinda sucks at everyday adulting" type. You know, when you see someone at work or at school and think, wow they're so good at what they're doing, and then you see them outside and think oh god they're absolutely stupid.

Least like me...well, he has all the confidence and charisma that I lack 😂 I'm just some dude. He's...him. 🤷‍♀️

2. Do you think you would get along with your oc if you could meet them? What things would you talk about?

Depends. Young Ross? Nope, stay away, I don't want you near. But he's not that terrible guy anymore, I would enjoy hanging out with the current Ross haha. We would talk a lot about vampires, obviously.

3. How competent would your oc be in a survival situation? Would they be better off on their own or in a group?

He'd do much better in a group. He's the leader type, sure, but he needs competent people to help him. They would survive together by cooperating.

4. Is your oc a daredevil, or more of a scaredy cat? What is the most daring thing they’ve done in their life?

I'm not sure if I can say that yet. 🤐 But he's probably more of a daredevil, although I wouldn't use that exact word for him. There's just a few things that could freak him out so much that he'd panic and stop functioning.

5. What is your oc’s patience like? When waiting for something, are they able to sit still or do they fidget? How do they fidget?

He's very impatient 😂 He hates when he has to wait for things, or when it takes too much effort and time to get better at things.

When sitting impatiently, he tends to bounce his leg. Sometimes he doesn't even realize, and he never knows how annoying it can be to other people.

6. How much thought does your oc put into what they wear/look like? Any reason why?

TOO MUCH THOUGHT. He loves to look good and put together and elegant. Even when he's just chilling at home, he rarely wears just a t-shirt and sweatpants. He's got his strong opinions on some uncomfortable materials but he'll suffer through them if it means he'll look good 😂

As for why...I don't know, I guess he's just vain like that.

7. Does your oc collect anything? What about of knowledge or facts? How big is their collection?

✨vampire literature of all kinds sparks joy even when it's stupid and full of misinformation, cliche and myths✨

8. What kind of flavours does your oc like? How much spice can they handle?

He loved spicy food as a human, even extremely spicy. Now as a vampire, not so much, his taste has changed. That doesn't mean he won't keep trying to eat it.

9. How easily does your oc trust others? Any particular reason why? How trustworthy are they themselves?

It's in his nature to be very trusting (e.g. how just after a few minutes of talking to a certain vampire he was like yup, best friends for life 😂), but of course, over time he learned that people often have other intentions, especially in politics. He had to learn to read them and learn to not jump to trust them so quickly. It was a hard journey, but I think he got pretty skilled eventually.

Ross himself is not much of a deceiver, even though he can lie, but he much more prefers just avoiding the topics he would have to lie about, be very vague about them, or, on another hand, just be brutally honest about it.

Thanks for the ask! ♥

[mywritingonlyfans]

Angst fic with Damiano David

prompt: a angsty about reader being sad (dami bff) 'cause damiano doesn't feel the same way romantically. ps. there's a lot of victoria de angelis being a angel in this fic, and it's basically about reader going through it.

warnings: none? it's just a bit sad and longer than usual.

 All the soft touches still tingled all over your body. His scent was until now stuck to you, you never thought you’d feel happy to have woody essence along with cigarette smoke on you. 

 Folding the sleeve of his sweater, you put your tea in one of the cups you always use when you were there. His cotton piece was comfortable, making you didn't regret wearing it in the morning; it was cold and wearing your tank top from the night before didn't feel right. The shorts from yesterday, that were making your legs freeze were enough trouble for you to handle. The remnants of your clothes and belongings were collected from the floor of his room and placed carefully on his headboard, you made sure you were being quiet. Damiano has always been a heavy sleeper, but your counscious prevented you from risking disturbing him when he looks so peaceful. You had already spent much time at his place so you memorized where every thing in his kitchen - and others rooms - was; baking eggs and making tea wasn’t a mystery for you. You had even separated a Tylenol tablet for Damiano, so he could have it with his tea when he woke up with a wicked hangover. He wasn't the type to get drunk and forget what he did, nor were you. Since when you were teenagers, you have gone out and been drunk together a lot of times, and although your feelings were already present, nothing never happened. This time, however, alcohol helped injecting a dose of courage on him. Being honest with yourself, you didn't remember who started it; but the kiss in the midst of the loud music, his hand on the back of your neck, the exchanging glances while dancing and the moment he took you home, they were pretty vividly in your mind. You still felt relaxed, as if his sweaty body was still over yours. Minutes with your eyes closed was enough to feel his eyes roaming your body all over again.

“Hi,” he said in a slurred voice, cutting off your line of thoughts. You jumped, briefly scared but soon turned your attention to reality; a tired Damiano scratching his eyes in front of you.

He was dressed, wearing sweatpants and sweatshirt, duly comfortable according to the weather. 

 “Headache?” You knew he was. He was always a good drinker, he put up with it a lot, but he was never one to get rid of the effects of alcohol on the next day. You, on the other hand, got on better with this issue; fortunately from the night before, only the good moments remained with you.

“Yeah, a bit,” he giggled. “What a night, I’d say.” He added, in a lower tone. What was acceptable, you also felt a bit weird to be in front of him.

“I got you some pills,” you pointed it out to him on the counter, trying to maintain a normal behavior; with no shacking voice or sweaty hands. Quite impossible. “I made tea too.”

“Dear God, you’re a life saver!” He smiled at you, eyes crinkled and all of his perfect teeth on display. Contagious.

You grinned, feeling your body getting lighter. “No worries. I’m glad to help.”

“Y’know, when I woke up and saw that you weren't there I thought you were gone. You know? Friendship destroyed and that whole thing. I’m happy to see you; relieved.” He took a sip of his tea, and maybe a bit of your heart with it. You were an explosion of feeling when it comes to him, you always have been. “That sweater looks good on you, you can keep it if you want. You know that’s my fave one.” And, yeah, you knew.

The tension on you was no longer intense, comforting you to let out the breath you were holding. “It’s good to hear that,” Your genuine smile managed to say many things, you wished Damiano had noticed you earlier on other occasions. “Do you remember that one time, when we were younger, that you were a bit crazy about a girl; Alice was his name.” You stopped; in need of air - nervous - and watched Dami's attentive face. “She was the first person to whom you dedicated a song, you played it to her at school break. The cutest thing I had ever seen. I think it was there that I realized, a little jealous—“

“Y/N,” his voice had been almost inaudible, causing no effect. Had he really tried?

“How in love I was with you.”

His face was paler than usual, he was paralyzed; speechless. You had never seen Damiano like this, the men was always all over the place in a sweet talkative mess.

It took a few minutes for you to be able to read his expressions and realize how fucked up you were. The dose of happiness in your blood had been able to manipulate you to believe in what you most wanted to happen.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” your blood had gone up to your ears, all you could pay attention to was the pressure in your head. How had you thought that after one specific night he would suddenly decide that he was in love with you? After all of this time that you were just a good friend for him? “I’m truly sorry but I’m don’t—“

“Feel the same way?” You finished. He nodded, apprehensively. You have never felt so stupid. It was a mixture of shame, fear and insecurity. You were unable to look directly at him, you knew that there was no change in following a friendship after what you just said, much less after the night before. You had never been so screwed.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing, I shouldn’t have said a thing.” You whispered, realizing that the lump in your throat had turned into tears that you didn't even know were running down your face.

“Come here,” he opened his arms, walking towards your emotionless frame. You allowed yourself to melt in his grip. 

 Your tears fell freely; you could even try to hold it back but there was no strength left for you to think about it. Your crying was silent, as was the kitchen room. Your head was full of questions and cursing at yourself. Suddenly you wished Damiano had yelled at you, asked you to get out of there or said he wouldn't never speak to you again. It seemed easier to deal with it in this alternative way than to have him comforting you for loving him. “Shh, it’ll alright. I could never be mad at you.”

He talked about your friendship, but you knew that nothing would end up well. Maybe for him. But for you? It’d not be that easy. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I should have known better, you were so loving with me last night that I thought— Fuck, we slept together. Which I know isn’t your fault because I don’t even remember who—“

“Stop, Y/N. Look at me,” He was being careful. You were making a person like Damiano calculate his words, that made you feel like pure shit. You stopped talking, looking at him was still difficult. He understood that you wouldn’t be doing so. “That’s fine. I don’t feel bad about you liking me in that way, you’re wonderful. I don't regret anything, last night was great, but I just... don't feel the same. I’d never do anything to hurt you. I can't even imagine how hard it’s being for you right now.” His words sounded sweet and sincere. He had tears in his eyes as well. His ability to be so empathetic to everyone was something you loved the most about him. He was probably killing himself on the inside for breaking you.

You nodded, leaning on the counter. You wanted to ask him if he remembered that he was your first kiss at the age of seven or all the times he sent you vinyl records with some message - that he had written himself - inside the cover. How did he not feel the same, shouldn't you be everything he wanted?

“Dami?” You sighed. Your eyes were red, your face probably swollen. You then looked straight at him; that surprisingly wasn’t much better than you. “Have you ever looked at me and seen me in another way? Something more than just your best friend?”

He didn’t say a thing, just look at you standing there. You get it.

“I think I should go,” You broke the silence that had been formed. You thought about taking his sweater off, but since you weren't wearing anything underneath, you thought it was better not; you’d have to go to his room to change, and then pick up your things only to delay your leaving.

“I can drive you home,” he said in a hush, looking for his car keys.

“It’s okay, a walk will be fine.”

“It’s fucking freezing outside, I can't let you walk over there like that.”

You ignored what he said, walking around the house to the front exit. He tried to grab your arm just for you to step back.

“I know you're just trying to help, but I need to be alone right now, without you near me.” You tried to say it in the most normal way possible, you didn't want to be mean, you only wanted to be fair to yourself.

“Sure.” It was the last thing you heard him say before you left, feeling the cold wind on your body. You didn't know if he had entered his house again or if he was watching you hug yourself as walking slowly to somewhere. You wouldn't dare to look back.

--------------------------------------------------------

“C’mon girl, get up here,” Upon hearing the husky, strong voice, you were relieved. 

 Victoria wasn’t wearing her usual jewelry and looked like she had just been woken up by force. You weren’t as close to her as you were with the other boys, however, you had never been so happy to see her.

You got in her car. “Thank you,”

“God, you look terrible. You’re fine?” You looked at your reflection in the rearview mirror and well, fine was definitely something you didn't look like.

“Dami asked you to come and get me?” Your throat was scratching, it was difficult to speak.

“Yeah,” she looked at you quickly, but due to your discomfort she backed off. More tears would come. “He didn't say why though, he just said he needed someone to come to you before you froze to death.” She said it in a way that made you laugh, even with your eyes filled with tears. “Did the two of you have a disagreement? You don't have to answer me if you don't want to.”

“Something similar.” You said shakily; due to your crying and chilly. Inside the car was heated, but your body was so cold that it didn't seem to be enough. You tried to snuggle in the passenger seat, letting your head rest against the window like in a sad film. Maybe that’d help.

“Here,” she handed you a coat, without hesitation you took it. “I brought it to you in case you needed it.”

You nodded slowly. “Thank you, Victoria,”

“You can call me Vic, just like everyone else,” she laughed.

You gave her a half smile. “Okay then, thank you very much, Vic,”

The rest of the day would be crying while you curled up in your bed, you’d let yourself feel at your worst; promising that you would try and change that the next day.

———----------------------------------------------

You expected the first few days to be the hardest, but it seemed to get worse with each passing day. Damiano had tried to call you a few times and in all of them you responded dryly, using short words, pretending it’d be okay. You truly tried, but you needed time to process what happened. You told him that, and then time he gave you.

After completing a month of the incident, you noticed how 'dependent' you had become on him. He was always around since you were kids, any problem you had you would look for him to talk to, now you felt like you had nothing. Your friends were friends of his, too, more of his friends than yours. You missed having Thomas failing on teaching you how to play guitar on your couch and besides you thought about calling him - just to distract yourself - you remembered that he was more a friend of Damiano than yours. It’d be weird. None of them contacted you at that time, not even Thomas. You couldn't figure it out if Dami had told them what happened and they decided to give you space or if they just didn't care about you when you wasn’t around Damiano.

Basically, where Dami was you would be and vice versa. It had always been like that.

When you saw that just time wasn’t solving anything, you programmed yourself to live in a way that you were busy all the time. Your routine became work, home and most of the time taking the work to be done also in your home. You didn't feel energized to make new friends, and going out on dates could help momentarily but it wouldn't be fair to go out with someone in the ‘mood’ you were in; then these ideas were soon discarded. Sleeping was impossible, you spent hours rolling over in bed; both for the flashbacks that plagued your mind, but also for the fact that you missed him. The nights were worse when you visit your mother or when she called and said, "Dami never came to see me again." or something like. “Are you still talking to each other? We don't let someone like Damiano leave our lives.”

Deep down, you knew there was no way you could be in love with him forever and that no matter how much it hurt at that moment it would pass. You started to repeat it to yourself as much as you could, so when the boys got in touch with you again you didn't hesitate to answer. Nothing bad would happen, you just need to pretend to be fine. The first to send you a message was Thomas, with simple questions, he acted like nothing had happened, you liked it. Even though it was obvious that Thomas, as one of his boys, would know this in more detail than you did (which was a lie, but at least he knew how Damiano was feeling about it, which you wouldn't know). He updated you about Dami, who was great as always, and you said you were doing well when he asked. You answering him made Ethan talk to you too, although they were all polite and delicate, they seemed more to be sorry than to miss you. Pity wasn’t something you were expecting.

After five months, you still felt like crap. You had tried to stop counting the days that had passed since you last saw Damiano, but it was almost impossible. You could still remember that night vividly, but you were still trying your best to move on; leave it behind. Mysteriously, you wanted to see him, see how he was doing and find out if he had anything else to say but you were afraid to see him, go back to your place as his best friend just to realize that your feelings for him had not abated at all.

“...I haven't seen you in a while. I wonder if you're alright,” you heard when answering your phone. Your head hurt, your eyes stung. You had slept on spreadsheets that you brought home from your work.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Shit,” she murmured.

You looked at the phone screen. “Sorry Vic, I just woke up I'm still trying to copy.” You laughed to calm her down.

“I thought I didn't have my number,” her voice became softer, as if she was relieved that you had saved it. “I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry about that. I just wanted to know how you‘re doing, since I used to see you almost every day, y’know?”

You thought about saying that you saved her number the day Dami called to pick him up at a bar since his phone battery was dead and he was in no condition to drive, but Victoria clearly knew that. “Is Dami with you?”

“No,” her tone matched yours; Dami had told her, now she was being careful with her words. “I saved your number the day Dami needed to call you, in case I needed to call you again.”

“That’s alright, thanks for checking on me then.”

“But he would love to talk to you. He always asks the boys about you or comments on you so that someone can bring you up to the convo. He seems a bit lost when you not ‘round to be honest.”

Somehow hearing that made you happy. Still, the image of discomfort whenever you thought of talking to him scared you. The phone line was filled with silence, until Victoria's husky voice filled the line.

“Anyway, I didn't call you to talk about Damiano. We finally finished the album and decided to have a small celebration at my house,” you giggle at the formality. “We thought you should go, since you were present in more than half of the process. I‘d like you to come. We’d all like you to come.”

———

Your heart accelerated with each step you took as you entered Victoria's house. The rooms had a glow of being calm and the music that was playing helped to make the place cozy. The instrumental of the band reminded you of Fleetwood Mac, and for the little that you knew Vic you would say that the type of sound reminded you of her. 

 Her house wasn’t crowded, there were only a few people around; some you’ve seen before, some you haven’t. You thundered your fingers over some vinyl that were arranged in a corner, pretending to read them. You were looking for familiar faces, honestly even for Damiano, but for some unknown reason you didn't want to make that obvious. Your eyes captured Thomas talking to some girls, and soon you felt relieved to be dressed according to the occasion; or at least according to the girls who were close to Thomas. It didn't take long until he noticed you standing there, you waved and he came to you. He looked surprised, still he didn't wait for you to say anything else, just wrapped you in his arms so tight you had to ask him to let go in between muffled laughter.

“Vic working miracles! Come, I'll take you to the others.” He said in his cute form, holding your hand as guiding you through the house. “So, how's our best girl?”

Your lips parted in a smile. “I’m alright, pretty much the same to be honest,” there was no time for him to ask another question because you soon spotted Ethan and Victoria with their beers in hands. They seemed to be shocked to see you as well; and it was starting to irritate you for reasons you couldn't explain. Thomas put you behind him, hiding you from the two of them as if they hadn't seen you already. He was being such a sweetheart that he had even managed to soften the anxious butterflies in your stomach; but not enough to keep your mind free of worries and Damiano David. Thomas made a funny noise with his hands as Ethan ignored his attempt to be amusing, pulling you into a hug. Who would have thought you would have missed them so much.

“How long without seeing you, I force you not to do that again. Without you we are just another disorganized mess.” You laughed at his nonsense. Your smile was sincere, like it hadn't been for months, still you were forcing yourself a bit more to appear to be actually 'fine'. You’d like to know if they noticed, even though you were appreciating that they didn’t.

“No worries, I‘m not planning on leaving you guys alone.”

 Ethan and Thomas started to discuss about something, Ethan was already under the effect of alcohol, and from time to time they asked for your opinion on how Victoria had been strangely quiet. Atypical of her, but she didn't seem to be out of place or uncomfortable, just quiet.

“Did a cat eat the tongue of my newest attractive friend?”

“Not this time,” she showed you her tongue, and then smirked. Her eyes shone in differently way under your gaze and her make up was making her look more mature. “Are you feelin’ good? Thank you for coming.” Victoria was happy to see you, you could feel that. She might be curious, but pity wasn’t something possible to see in her; different from the other boys. “You must be tired of hearing that question, I'm sorry. It‘ll no longer be asked.”

Her voice was soft, comfortable to hear. “I appreciate that. I really have heard a lot of that, but despite everything, I feel good ‘bout bein’ here.”

“I feel even happier that you came then,” she put her hand gently on your waist. The other two didn't even remember you and Vic were there. “Let's get you something to drink, we bought that red drink Damiano always says you love.”

“No way, it’s bishop cocktail?” You looked at her, a big grin on your face, even though you remembered that this was the drink you were drinking when the universe decided it would be a good idea for you and Dami to have a one-night stand. Just a lovely reminder. “Have you mixed everything up? like the rum with the red wine? or with red drink you just want to say you bought wine?” You asked, ignoring your internal conflicts. Everything would be fine, you ket repeating to yourself.

“In fact, I remember once hearing you comment you didn't mind it being mixed up in a random bottle.”

She pulled a glass bottle out of a bucket full of ice and you couldn't believe she remembered that; given that you could count on your fingers the times that you had actually spoken to her. You didn’t avoid each other, just didn’t have much of the opportunities.

“Oh my god, that’s so fuckin’ lovely.” You whispered. She was quick to pick up a glass and hand it to you, filling it with the so well remembered liquid. You took a sip, and the taste - or alcohol - made your butterflies calmer. “Thanks for that, tastes like heaven.” She took a glass for herself, by her expression she thought it was a waste of rum. “C’mon, it’s not that bad.”

“If you think so, who am I to deny.”

“Don’t be a bummer,” you bumped your shoulder with hers, eliciting a cute sound from her that made you laugh as well.

You wish that sensation had lasted longer, even so when a random girl approached you to ask something, you felt heavy; like a sign. Her hair was golden in perfect waves and her face was angelic in an almost divine way. You might have been overreacting, but she was the type to catch all the attention to herself.

“You’re Y/N, right? I was startin’ to think that I’d never get to know you.” She hugged you tight and you wondered if she really didn't know you. When she released you, you felt your heart breaking right there in front of her. She was wearing Dami's sweater; the same one from that night, the same one that you wore. You wanted to be wrong, but you’d know that sweater from a distance even after years. “He talks so much about you. Can you believe we never met?” She asked, alternating her gaze between you and Victoria. She had been silent, you had forgotten that she was still there. Your head was miles away in thoughts, making you dizzy.

“Hi, Bella,” Victoria said. You remembered that name. Damiano talked about her on a few occasions, anyways he didn't seem to be in love - or you just didn’t want to see that. Maybe you haven’t been able to read him due to your stupid passion. “How’s everything?”

She started talking to Victoria and you couldn't concentrate on listening; all the alcohol in the world would not ease what you were feeling. How long have they been together? What was so special about her that Damiano gives her his favorite sweater? Were they together when you slept together? How did she end up with the same sweater you slept in that day?

She held the cup that was in your hands and handed it to Victoria. “Are you okay, hon’? You look a lil’ unwell. Do you want me to get you some water?”

“No need, I’m alright,” she patted your arm, and then checked your temperature. She was being nice, yet you couldn't pretend to be interested in being there anymore.

Thankfully, Victoria put an arm around your shoulders, asking if you want to join her to have a smoke. “It’ll be good, fresh air will do good to you.”

You agreed. Bella was worried and you felt bad about having to run away from her. She looked like an incredible person, sure Damiano was lucky to have her, that was just too much for you.

“Do this, you will feel better. We can talk later and so you can tell me everything about you and Dami, I’d love to hear you, since you’ve known each other for so long.” You looked for some irony in her voice, but you didn't found it. She was interested in you; after all, you were her boyfriend's best friend. It made sense.

Victoria guided you to the balcony, or at least halfway to it. Midway, someone stopped to talk to her, she tried to dismiss the person, however, as it was a thing related to the album, she would have no way out. “Victoria, it’s fine, I need some time alone.” You whispered to her, patting on her arm. She looked at you reluctantly, but understand. There wouldn't be much she could do for you.

Entering the balcony you felt an absurd urge to cry, your eyes itched and your legs were trembling. Was being in love meant to hurt this much, or was it just a game of chance?

You tried to take a deep breath, ease your heartbeats, telling yourself it was okay. You just needed to calm down. You leaned your body against the wall and watched the place. The plants near the fence - which you didn't know how Victoria had time to take care of them - the streets, and then the sky. Starry and moist, made for good memories that wouldn't come to you. When you felt ready enough to go out and face the party again, you ran into the one you were trying to avoid, Dami. Minutes ago you were anxious with the possibility to see him to know how he was, now you just wanted to run away and wipe these last months out of your mind.

“Y/N,” his body collided with yours while his arms wrapped around you, it was supposed to be a good thing, that you‘d feel safe as the same way you used to feel, except that was uncomfortable now. You couldn't even respond to his hug, for a second you thought you would escape without having to see him. He noticed and gave you space. “I swore that you wouldn't come. My god, it's so good to see you.” He ran his hands through his hair and you remained paralyzed in front of him.

You tried to focus on your breathing so that your voice came out without too many complications. “Yeah... It's good to see you, you look great.” It didn't work, your voice was shaky making your lie sound even worse. He looks great, you didn't lie, he seemed even happier and well rested. You wondered if it was because the album was ready or because now he had Bella.

You forced a smile, but unlike the others, Damiano knew you were acting. He didn’t judge or question, his face became tense, apprehensive. He knew that nothing was right.

“I thought about callin’ you more, goin’ to see you or something. The boys convinced me that it‘d be better not, that it could be even hard for you. I wonder if I shouldn't have done something different to help you because I know I fucked up too.” His hands were undecided between running through his hair and staying inside his pockets. He was nervous, at the same relieved to have spoken to you.

“It wasn't your fault, I’d never blame you for that,” you sighed, smiling slightly. It felt terrible to make him feel that way about it, but there wasn't much you could do. “I'm glad you gave me space when I asked, it's still hard to see you or think about talkin’ to you. It is as if everything that is tormenting me comes all at once.” It was good to say that to him. He nodded and you looked at each other for a while. It wasn't as uncomfortable as you thought it would be.

He was a few feet away from you while you were admiring the night, with your back against the wall. You wanted to leave, maybe go cry in your bed until you fell asleep, still you wanted things to work out with Dami, you wanted that tension and fear of seeing him to get out of your head. Despite that, if it was necessary to suffer in that process, it would not be worth it.

“She’s amazing,” it hurt to say that, but it was the truth. “Bella’s amazing, lucky girl.” You smiled sadly. Saying her name and seeing Dami smiling at that made you thank God for not seeing the two of them together, hugging or kissing. He‘d probably put his hand on her waist while she was talking to one of his friends or giving lightly kisses to her temple, just because he felt like it. Damiano was the cute type, you've seen it before.

“She is, an amazing person. She was all happy to have spoken to you. I told her all about our teenage years and how you always supported the band,” He had told her about you, would he have told her about you being in love with him? You thought to ask, soon giving up. It’d be shameful if so. “If I knew you would be here I’d not have come with her.” It made you think that he had told her.

“What would you do? Would you hide me from her for the rest of your life?” You sighed. it was supposed to sound like a joke, regrettably your voice sounded too cruel for that.

“It’s not like that,” he mumbled. “I was just tryin’ to think of you and—“

“I think I need to go Dami, it’s being too much. I’m sorry.” You needed to get out of there, you couldn't stop the tears anymore and you knew it was a bad idea to talk about her with him.

You took a few steps back just for Damiano to grab at your arm, without putting strength, just like a few months ago, to stop you in front of him. You turned your face away from looking at his eyes, feeling as the tears run down your cheek. You'd never be able to face him, this situation was only proving that to you even more.

“Please, Y/N. Just tell me what I need to do. I will do anything for you to talk to me again. I need you, you know that. The past few weeks have been a mess without you around. Even little my mom misses you. I’d do anything to have you back like before.” He was about to cry, his eyes shone with tears and it was painful to watch. He could do anything for you to stay; except what would make you stay. Unfortunately, it didn't depend only on his good will.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” you said in a lack of air, signaling the space around you with your finger. “But this, this is too much. It kills me to have to be close to you or to be close to things or people that remind me of you, seeing someone else with you doesn't help at all. I still think about the fact that we slept together... I can’t just forget it ‘cause it meant so much to me and to you, to you? it was nothing.” You were out of breath, you just wanted to cry in peace, put everything out until there was nothing left. 

 He released his hands of you, his face red and damp. It wasn't going to be easy for either of you. Time wouldn't matter; it wouldn’t change a thing because whenever you looked at him you’d wonder about how things could have been like if he had chosen you.

He whispered one more time that he was sorry, then let you go. He could have stopped you, but it's not like he knew what to do anymore. 

He watched as you walk out without even looking back.

——-

You went through the party walking fast, avoiding acquaintances and questions about why you were like that. Your body was heavy as well as your conscience. Outside the house the street was empty, the streetlights illuminated the sidewalk and along with the silence of the street you felt invited to sit there. You brought your knees close to your body, trying to breathe calmly. Pulling the air in, and then releasing it in a normal way. Your heart was beating so fast that your whole body was agitated. You tried to stay still. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling a little dizzy when you saw someone walk out the front door of the house. You dropped your knees, trying to look decent, but gave up as soon as the person came closer to you and you saw that it was Victoria. She sat next to you, pulling you into a hug. You were happy that she went to you.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, hugging her waist and hiding your face in the fabric of her shirt.

“Stop saying that you’re fine when you’re far from being fine, I won’t judge you sweetheart,” she comforted you, giving you a extra squeezing. You were far from being alright, but it helped, having someone there helped.

She placed her chin on top of your head, soothing you until your crying softened. She rubbed your back and whispered that it’d be okay.

“Did Damiano send you here?”

“No, darlin’. He said that you had talked, and then you had to leave, he didn't look well, I thought you wouldn't be either.”

“And then you decided to look out for me?” You laughed, still tucked in her warm arms.

“Yep, sounds like you need me, don’t you think?” She laughed too, causing the vibration of her chest next to yours make you feel taken in.

“Why’s love so painful?”

Victoria didn't answer, she was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then she stood up, holding out her hand for you.

“What?”

“I won’t be taking no as an answer, you’ll get in the car with me and we will do something, anything, drink milk shakes, fill up our bellies with pizza ‘til we can't take it anymore, or even rob a bank.” She held you by the waist, lifting you up for her. “Please,”

You didn't see why not to accept. There was nothing worse that could get even worse at the moment, maybe going somewhere would do you good. “Even rob a bank?” She nodded, pointing to where her car was.

A smile spreading across her lovely face as you realized you’d go anywhere she wanted with her. “Yes, even robbing a bank.”

[hms-no-fun]

i'm a bit confused, is x a doppleganger of june or of dare?

X is... complicated.

when Epigone calls it "the doppel of your ganger" to Dare, that's a decidedly non-authoritative source making an extremely non-literal comparison. X isn't meant to be the doppelganger of any particular member of the system, or even a traditional doppelganger at all, but rather the shadow of the whole system. it's the part of June that judges other people for being less than her idea of perfect, the part of her that's petty and bitter and secretly wishes that bad things would happen to everyone who deserves it (especially when those people are friends).

this is something a lot of folks have a version of, in my experience, and its gaze is directed inward just as often as it is outward. in gf1 and the early chapters of 2.1, you'll notice that the second-person narration has a tinge of cruelty to it. obviously i didn't know what this meant at the time of writing gf1 (i didn't even know June was trans yet), but i always had the idea that this was an internal voice passing itself off as the external other, the self observing the self and judging it for its perceived insufficiencies. this variety of self hatred is pretty common among trans people, and in my case at least it was a kind of displaced dissatisfaction with society- i got bullied a lot as a kid, i did terrible in school, could never make friends outside of the cliqueless overflow table (most of whom grew up into libertarians who stopped talking to me when i got mad at one of them for deadnaming me to win an argument), i was one million percent autistic and adhd and bipolar but because i had a big vocabulary and knew how to tell adults what they wanted to hear i was "high functioning" enough that it couldn't be anything except laziness. "apply yourself" they said, as if i'd never thought of that.

when i was in high school, we had a guy break out some swords and threaten to kill everyone (because, by wild coincidence, my girlfriend at the time wouldn't go out with him). he only managed to cut the arm of a security guard. every guy my age was being pressured from every direction to join the military, and a lot of them went because they believed in the thing the adults called freedom. we had riots that rolled through the halls in waves with like hundreds of students crowding out of classrooms to watch some people fight and chase each other. we had to say the texas pledge and the pledge of allegiance every morning before class. a couple times people set trash cans on fire in the gym. once there was a student walkout of the Hispanic population protesting an anti-immigration bush policy, and the principle got on the intercom and said “i know you punks are just using this as an excuse to get out of class.” i think there was a bomb threat once that turned out to be an empty box? idk. point is it was a DERANGED time. i was NOT handling puberty well, and i hated everyone. i mean EVERYONE lmao i self-described as a misanthropist. and on days when i was REALLY down bad, i'd fantasize about hurting people. i also described myself as a pacifist at the time! i hated guns, i always felt that they gave people too much power. but there was this awful part of me watching what was going on and thinking, why doesn’t someone DO something? we’re all miserable and we want to be literally anywhere else and we just can’t. when i’d have these fantasies, i felt dead inside- i knew it was against everything i believed, and that thinking these things probably made me a bad person (they didn’t, and don’t for anyone), but there was something so tantalizingly simple about giving into that darkness and doing something unspeakable, and being hated unambiguously for it. i never did, obviously, and i never believed myself capable of such a thing even at the time.

the circus egotistica is a very specific embodiment of that kind of fantasy that intellectually you know you would never ever actually go THROUGH with- that irrational desire to make everyone hate everyone else as much as you, to finally take control of your misery and inflict it on the people who never seem to suffer as much as you. it’s a petty, insecure, and self-destructive-by-design spectacle that doesn’t REALLY accomplish anything, besides making you the temporary master of what you perceive to be a vile and unjust universe. and of course at the end of it all the circus accomplishes very little, because it’s just a distraction set up by Epigone to buy time until it can come through to June’s mind. it knows that X wants exactly two things, in this order: 1. to make everyone feel as bad as it feels, and 2. to finally fucking die. the latter is a trait that X and Dare have in common- and buddy, if you ever want a surefire way to get on a judgmental bitch’s kill list, just have literally a single thing in common with them.

X is the edgy cynic that’s been buried underneath the rest of June for a really long time. you can see flashes of it in homestuck imo, but mostly these judgmental thoughts have only been turned inward and been left unexpressed beyond depression and self isolation. this is why X doesn’t have a name, or much of a form at all except octopus mode, because it’s been largely inert until recently. so naturally, when June realizes she’s trans and finds something to love about herself for the first time, that internal judge flips its eye outwards to June’s friends, ESPECIALLY after her coming out goes so poorly. and as they keep letting her down, X remembers all these petty observations it made about those friends over the years, hyperfixates on public perception of the gods by checking forums and wikis and of course there’s CRINGE COMPILATIONS of June having her fucking soul ripped out of her, and the injustice of it all drives X towards such a bitter spiteful place that when Epigone comes knocking, it’s all too happy to hold the door if it means it gets to show these people what their precious gods are REALLY like

so yeah, that’s what X is; not a doppelganger so much as an edgy teen in an adult’s body. of course, it does seem to know about Other Stuff in ideaspace for Some Reason, but that’s probably not relevant.

[jaskiersvalley]

as someone who hasn't consumed the Witcher in any format but fic and enjoys it immensely (especially yours you are amazing), I watched a clip and was devastated to find out that Jaskier is not pronounced with a 'J' and it is in fact Yaskier. (I'm very much a sight reader and pronounced things as I see them; this has lead to a lot of teasing over the years).

Anyway, this is a weird, convoluted way to tell you that without your fic I wouldn't even be considering watching the show, so thank you for writing so much! You are an excellent writer and I can't wait to see where your path takes you.

I am absolutely honoured you’re considering watching the show because of my fics :D As in, I’m sat here speechless because I didn’t think my writing could have such an influence. If you do watch it, I really hope you enjoy it! Not going to lie, the only time I watched the show, half the time I had no idea what was going on XD But thoroughly enjoyed the bafflement.

Names can be tricky, especially when they’re not native to your language. If it helps, to this day I dare not say Eskel out loud. For the longest time I didn’t know whether it was E(ss)kel or E(sh)kel. I asked, I watched videos, I forgot. When chatting to friends, I will still avoid saying his name. Anyway, I’ve blathered on a bit. Have a ficlet of thanks for sending such a very sweet message.

CW: Temporary character death

Everything happened so quickly. There was a massive boom as one of Lambert’s bombs went off in the basement, an almighty crack followed by the creaking of stone under pressure. The collapse of Kaer Morhen took all of three seconds, all its inhabitants buried under ancient stone and mortar. As far as deaths went, it was a quick one, Lambert barely had time to think “oh bollocks” before it all happened.

The surprise came when they all woke up in a field full of flowers. It was balmy, sunny and really quite nice, nothing like the winter of Kaer Morhen where they had been not moments before. Jaskier was the first to sit up, seemingly unbothered by the sudden change. The others were slower to wake and a lot more suspicious.

“Fuck.” Geralt didn’t change, no matter the situation or setting, it was almost comforting.

“Lambert.” Never before had a name been said as a warning and a demand at the same time. Vesemir stared at his youngest. “What have you done?”

Last to wake was Eskel and he sat up, shaking his head as if to get rubble out of it. “Couldn’t hold my quen any longer.” It was said with shame and disappointment.

All through that, Jaskier had gotten up and was inspecting the flowers. He didn’t look the slightest bit bothered.

“Did you kill us?” Ciri’s voice cut in as she gave Lambert an accusing stare.

“Not on purpose!” Defensive, Lambert crossed his arms over his chest. “A stack of bombs toppled.”

Tired, Vesemir pinched his nose. “I would usually say ‘and what did we learn?’ but I don’t think there are any lessons needed to be learned in the afterlife.”

As Lambert continued to sulk, Geralt looked over to Jaskier who was far too calm and content in all this. In fact, he seemed to be making a flower chain. Not a minute later, the chain turned into a crown and was dropped on Lambert’s head amidst a lot of hissing and growling.

“I need to let Billy know that this really wasn’t my fault this time.” As if that made any sense. There was nobody around other than them and none of them responded to the name ‘Billy’. Maybe death had really done a number on Jaskier and this was his way of coping. They might as well enjoy it, Ciri started making flower crowns with him while Geralt began to explore.

No matter how far he went, how long he walked for, it was like going around in circles. There was a certain distance he could move from the group but no further. Usually, Geralt would have suspected magic but his medallion was still. Maybe it didn’t work in death. Such musings were interrupted by the appearance of a figure striding across the field.

“Billy!” Jaskier rose and waved. The alleged Billy was in a cloak pulled far down their face, a bony hand clutched a scythe. Suddenly, Geralt had a sinking feeling in his stomach that Billy was, in fact, Death. And, even worse, Jaskier seemed to getting Billy like an old friend. “I promise it wasn’t me this time. And I have a favour to ask. These are my friends.”

Despite being a cloaked figure, Geralt somehow knew that Billy had rolled their eyes.

“Yes, yes, I know. Terribly inconvenient. But after last time, I think I can be a bit cheeky.”

There was a certain fondness that Billy seemed to hold for Jaskier. Silent as they were, they still managed to hold a conversation and Jaskier happily prattled on. Suddenly, Eskel could see why Jaskier never seemed to mind Geralt’s silence and could interpret it so well.

Rummaging around in his pocket, Jaskier pulled something out and held it triumphantly aloft. “Some crystallised ginger! You know I only keep these in my pockets for you.”

Handing the treats over, Jaskier gave Billy a winning smile. The ginger disappeared in the hood of the cloak and Jaskier beamed. “Lovely. Now, if you wouldn’t mind. Maybe a helping hand with the old keep too? She’s been through a lot.”

A sleepiness took over the residents of Kaer Morhen. They sank down to the ground, flopping over gracelessly. As sleep took them over, Lambert had a thought.

“Wait, Jaskier. Did you and Death fu-”

Waking up, they were all in the same places they were when Kaer Morhen toppled. Only, there was no draft. No creaking. Not even the annoying splash-splash of a leak in the various rooms. In fact, Kaer Morhen was back to its golden days.

Jaskier skipped through the building, happy as anything while the others slowly clawed their way back to consciousness.

“Fuck,” Geralt growled, wiping drool from his cheek.

Thanks to all his years alive, Vesemir had the best handle on the situation. He didn’t question it, didn’t want to know how or why Jaskier was so familiar with Death (”they needed a name, Geralt. How would you like it if I only ever called you Witcher?”). Some things were best left a mystery and Vesemir could accept the gift of a second chance for what it was - babysitting duty.