#and look. they got a happy ending. eventually

[ripdragonbeans]

Not Him, I Swear // Modern!Aegon x Reader // Pt. 3

Summary: You go on your second date with Aegon and it ends up being much more fun that you anticipated.

CW: afab reader, profanity, eventual smut, Aegon being an ass, oh but he has feelings??????

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

The next few days were filled with cute texts and fluffy dates. Aegon respected your wishes and didn't push you to go any further than a make out session. It drove you crazy; you wanted him but you were scared. As much as you wanted to forget all the pain Jason caused you, it was something that stayed. It tainted your views of love, something that can be hard to make new. 

Aegon seemed too good to be true.

But you swallowed your fears and pushed on with your relationship with him. 

“Hey, man!” Cregan strolled into the room. “How's our bet going? Is she begging for you yet?” He plopped himself down next to Aegon and put his feet on the table.

Aegon rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he murmured. “No, she's not begging yet, but I'll get there.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Gods, I almost feel bad.”

Cregan’s eyebrow rose. “Bad? Don't tell me that my best friend is actually catching feelings for someone.”

“No, I'm not catching feelings for anyone.” Aegon got up to grab another beer; his third one already, and it was barely noon.

“The way you talk about her says differently.”

“I haven't talked about her.”

“Not obviously, of course. At any mention of the bet or anything, you tense up. Something’s going on in that head.”

“Whatever, Cregan,” Aegon muttered. “Since you're so focused on annoying me, I'm gonna go to my room.” He gave his friend a mocking wave before leaving the living room to his own.

He put his head in his hands and let out a groan. He couldn't be catching feelings, he shouldn't be falling for her. But he is. 

The way she smiles. The way her eyes light up. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. It's like looking into a bright light and being engulfed in its warmth. 

But he had to do this. He needed to prove that he could have anyone he wanted. If not to himself, then to his friend. As shallow as it was, he wanted to follow through. He hoped she wouldn't hate him in the end. 

“Hel, I really can't believe it,” you gushed. “I know you said not to get too involved with him but he's already so much better than Jason!” 

You plopped down on the couch, closed your eyes, and stretched. The wonderful feeling of being loved say well inside your heart. Despite the aching fears and the anxiety that comes along after being cheated on, the feeling of being loved triumphed ever just a tiny bit. 

“I wouldn't go ahead and say that, bestie. Please, be on your guard. You know all the stories, all the rumors, and I can even testify for some of them.” Helaena held your hands and looked you in the eye. “Be careful, please.”

A voice came from the hallway. “Yeah, what she said.” Jace walked over to the two of you sitting on the couch. He wore a grim expression on his face. “I don't mean to hurt you but I've heard that he's just trying to get you to sleep with him, all for some bet.”

Your heart sank at the thought but you pushed it aside.

“Very funny, Jace,” you said. “But I don't need that negativity in my life.”

“It's not negativity if it's true.” He looked at you with pity in his eyes. 

You shook off the expression and took a deep breath. “Why can't you two just be happy for me?” 

Helaena squeezed the hand she was holding. “We're happy for you, we just want you to be careful. We hate to see you hurt.”

“It's a risk, isn't it? All relationships are. I know Aegon and I will either end up together forever or eventually break up. It's up to us, not you two, but me and Aegon, how bad that ending will be.”

Helaena huffed. “Okay, I'll drop it. For now.”

You smiled at her. “Thank you.” You turned to address both Jace and Helaena. “Now, would you two like to know what's happening next?”

“As hesitant as I am, yes,” Helaena said. 

Jace nodded his head in agreement.

You pulled out your phone to read the text messages between you and Aegon.

“Our next date is a movie!” You announced.

There was a beat of silence before Jace broke it. “A movie? Isn't that a little cliche?”

You frowned at him. “Shut up, it's something.”

“What movie are you guys gonna catch?” Helaena cut in. 

“Oh! Um…” you bowed your head in embarrassment and mumbled your answer.

“I'm sorry? What was that?” Jace leaned in. A knowing smirk graced his lips.

You mumbled your answer again, but a little louder.

“Bestie, I still can't hear you!” 

“Shrek 2.” 

You look up in shame. The judgment you feel from them was too much.

“...I'm sorry, did you just say Shrek 2?” Clarified Jace.

“It's the best one!”

Helena laughed. “Considering it's you and Aegon, it makes sense. Weird choice, but yeah.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, time to get you date ready!”

“‘Date ready?’ Hel, I’ve got five hours until I have to leave. I have time.”

“For what I have planned for you? Nope, five hours is just enough time for me and Jace to get you set.”

Jace froze hearing his name. “Me? What do I have to do?”

“Shut up, you're moral support,” Helaena rolled her eyes in amusement. “Now, let's go.”

Helaena offered you her hand but you hesitated slightly. What if this is just a plot to convince you to not go? But when you looked at your friends all you could see was the love they had for you.

“Alright, let's get this started,” you smiled.

Four hours later had you sitting in a chair with your back straight and a mirror behind you. 

“Annnnnd done!” Helaena turned your chair around so you could see yourself.

You took in the image, your hair all done nicely, your facial features enhanced, all of it. You couldn't help the smile that made its way.

“Helaena,” you started, “my gods, you did an amazing job!” 

You turned toward Jace, who was sitting on the arm of the couch. 

“Yeah,” he said between handfuls of chips, “you look great. Aegon is gonna shit himself.” 

“I don't know about that,” you rolled your eyes. “He's been with a shit ton of other girls before me, I doubt I'm the prettiest.”

A hand smacked your head. 

“No. You're the hottest he's ever been with and will only be with for the rest of your lives.”

“Wow, and I thought you were dead set on me not being with him.”

“Only to protect you! But,” she sighed, “if this is how it goes then he better not break your heart. He does that. I'll chop up his dick in his sleep.”

“Yeah, and I'll fuck up his face,” Jace added.

You laughed at your friends, your heart full. “You two are so extra.”

“It's called being best friends,” Jace said as he joined you and Helaena at the mirror. 

Looking at the three of you, you thought of all the trials you've been through. All the heartbreak, the laughs, the highs and the lows. Without them who knows what you would be like. You interlocked your hands with both of them and leaned back.

“I don't know what I did to deserve you guys, but I'm grateful for you two and love you.”

Beep beep!

The sound of the honking car was quickly followed by a text. You picked up your phone and couldn't stop the smile. Of course Aegon would do this. As you readied yourself to leave the apartment, you did one last look in the mirror. 

You were happy with how you looked; all dolled up for the date. Just enough to be enticing but not so much in your face. With a pep in your step, you made your way to the front door. 

Aegon’s eyes went wide when he saw you. “You look…”

You nodded for him to continue.

“Amazing. You look amazing.” Aegon flashed you a big smile.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” you replied as you got in the car.

Aegon’s car was messy but it could be a lot worse. Luckily the trash wasn't food trash but rather random papers and receipts that were strewn across the floor and the back seat. It also smelled vaguely of weed.

“You smoke?” You asked him.

Aegon pulled out of the driveway. “Yeah, and I vape every now and then if I want a flavor or something. You?” 

“I've been curious about it but no, I haven't done either.”

“Wanna try? We can pull over and I can roll you a joint.”

A smile crept onto your face. There were butterflies in your stomach but you were excited to take the plunge.

Once Aegon pulled over into an unmarked parking lot, he pulled out the weed, the paper, and lighter. He was careful to roll the joint nicely for you. Once he finished he looked at his work and gave you a smile. “Ta-da! One joint rolled for my kitten.”

“Okay, cool. I can do this.” You told yourself.

Aegon looked at you with concern. “You don't have to smoke if you don't want to.”

“No, but I really want to.”

“Okay.” He nodded his head. “I'll light it. Then all you have to do is inhale through your mouth, hold it for a bit then exhale through your mouth. Simple.”

“Simple. Right.”

“Okay, here we go.”

Aegon lit it then brought the joint up to your mouth. You gently wrapped your lips around the tip and you did as he said. 

Inhale.

You felt the smoke fill your mouth.

Hold.

You let it sit and go down your throat.

Exhale.

A puff of smoke flew out of your mouth.

As a calming sensation sprinkled through your body you have Aegon a relaxed smile.

“You feeling okay?” Aegon asked you 

You laughed a bit. “Yeah, I feel good.”

Aegon took a drag from the joint himself. “Wanna get high before we watch the movie?”

“Hell yeah.”

Before heading off to the movie theater, you and Aegon shared the joint. It didn't take long for you to get high but Aegon finished it off. He was careful not to get higher than just having a buzz since he was driving. The rest of the ride was filled with you babbling about everything and nothing. Aegon smiled and let you go on. 

Arriving at the theater, you let out a little giggle. “I'm so excited for this, Aegon.” You slurred his name.

“Yeah.” He couldn't stop himself from smiling at you. Getting out of the car, he circled around to open the passenger door. “Time to get out, kitten.”

You giggled again. “I like that you call me kitten. It's cute and it kinda turns me on.”

Aegon gulped down a breath. “That's great; time to see the movie.”

Letting go of Aegon’s hand, you put both of yours on his chest. “I wanna be with you.”

He pushed your hands down and kept them firmly in his. Aegon looked you in the eye. “And we will but not like this. I want you to be sober when I take you.”

You huffed. “Okay.”

Finally getting you to step out of the car, Aegon went back to only holding one hand as he led you through the parking lot and into the theater.

“Mmm I want popcorn and an Icee,” you said as soon as you walked in. The smell of popcorn immediately surrounded you.

“I'll get you popcorn and a water,” Aegon said.

You stamped your foot. “But I want an Icee!”

He tugged on your hand to get you to look at him. “Kitten, you need water. Trust me, okay?”

“Okay.” Another giggle escaped you.

After buying popcorn and water, Aegon led the way to your numbered theater to watch Shrek 2. At first you wanted to sit up front but he pulled you away to the rows in the back.

“No one needs to know you're high,” he said as you made your way up the stairs. 

“But you know I'm high,” you observed.

“I'm the one that got you high, kitten.”

“Oh, yeah.”

As you sat down in your chair, all you could think about was getting as close to Aegon as possible. Thankfully, these were the newer, fancier theater chairs. You reclined your chair and moved the armrest out of the way so you could lean on Aegon.

“You and popcorn,” you said as you snuggled up to him. “The best combination ever.”

“Don't forget Shrek.”

“And Shrek.”

Aegon kissed the top of your head as the lights went down and the movie began.

While Shrek 2 was already one of the funniest moments of all time, watching it high made it even funnier.

“Prince Charming looks like Jason,” you whispered, eyes wide. “I bet his dick is small like Jason’s, too.”

Aegon choked on his water. He stole a look at you but all he saw was a girl high as fuck while watching Shrek 2. Gods, he wanted to kiss you then and there.

The movie continued with your constant one liners about how everything in Shrek related to something or someone in your life. Somehow you were Shrek, Fiona was Aegon (which he was happy about), Donkey was Helaena, and Puss in Boots was Jace. To you, it all made sense. To Aegon, it was simply blabbering that entertained him.

As the credits rolled on the screen, you lolled your head against Aegon’s shoulder once again. “I’m tired, Aeg.”

“You’re coming down from your high, kitten,” he assured you. “Time to get up and head home.”

“I don’t wanna move.” You slunk down in your seat.

Aegon laughed. “They’re gonna kick us out anyway if you don’t get up. What if I helped you?”

You held out both arms. “Yes, please.”

Aegon moved to stand in front of you to pull you up. Instead of letting go, however, he tucked you into his side. Together, you made your way out of the movie theater.

“Can we go to your place?” you asked him as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“No, I’m going to drop you off at my sister’s.”

All of a sudden you wanted to cry. “Why? Do you not like me?”

“That’s not it. You’re high and I’m going to take care of you.”

Your mood instantly switched. “I’d love for you to take care of me.” Heat began pooling in your belly while you placed a hand on his thigh.

Reluctantly, Aegon moved your hand off of him. “Not like that. I’m going to be responsible this one time and take you back to Helaena’s.”

“Come on, be irrisp, irrrrsp, irrisponble this one time.”

“If you want to be in my bed you’re going to have to be sober, kitten.”

You crossed your arms. “Boo, you’re no fun.”

“I know, what a bore.” He turned into the driveway. “Time to go.” He walked over to your side to open the door and walk you to the front. “I loved tonight.”

“I love you too, Aegon,” you yawned.

Aegon stopped, stunned. “I think you mean you loved tonight.”

You hummed. “No, I love you.”

He nodded his head, mouth slightly agape, as he took you Helaena’s room. When he knocked on the door Helaena popped out.

Her eyes instantly went to you, leaning all your weight on Aegon. “What did you do?!”

Aegon shrugged. “She wanted to get high so I let her. I only got buzzed but she is definitely high.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“It’s loud,” you moaned. “And bright.”

“Gods, get her in here.” Helaena motioned for Aegon to bring you into the room.

Immediately, you went for the bed and flopped down. Aegon was careful as he tucked you in. Helanea watched in awe of how sweet he was being to you. As soon as you drifted off to sleep, Helaena took Aegon into the hallway to talk.

“Have you been like this all night?” she questioned.

“You mean like the wonderful gentleman I am? Yes.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you being so kind to her?”

He shrugged. “What can I say, Hel. I like her.”

“No, when you like girls you just charm them and then fuck them. This is the second date you’ve gone on with her. Something is up.”

Aegon ran his hand down his face. “Let me do this, just once, let me be the good guy.”

Helaena looked at him warily. “Fine. But if you do anything to hurt her, I will personally destroy your life.”

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Eighteen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2,239

Themes; isekai, slow burn (eventual smut), canon divergence

Rating; 18+ for swearing and mature themes

Notes; Finally it's Friday! I swear, all of my notes for ToF practically look the same, at this point. Anyway, this is Rafayel's last chapter, I swear! His myth ends next chappy, we get some real world time with Sylus, and then we're onto the next myth– which is Zayne.

Also, if Sylus's myth set comes out soon, you best believe I will write it here if it fits the story! Annnnd also, the main story branches. To add on to that, Zayne's up-coming free 5 star on the 30th of this month will possibly be added if I can work it into the story. I know I definitely want to add a tiny sprinkle of Dawnbreaker to this story– and make him happy. Everyone gets a happy ending in this story!!

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Also, make sure you check out the summary (and poll) for a new series called Divisa! I'm excited with what I've got so far and I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

“Are you upset I was distracted?”

A small laugh slips from your lips as you head back over to Rafayel, who had his arms crossed over his chest and a small pout on his pretty lips. “Don’t be angry! I returned, didn’t I? I even brought back some pomegranate wine. We can take it back for Algie and Konche–”

“I’m not upset, but…” Though Rafayel is cut off by the sound of arguing behind us.

“Someone stole the pearl eyes from the Sea God statue in the temple. You must be the thief!” You hear a guard say to the storyteller.

“You must be mistaken. The person who gave these to me is…over there! I would never dare to touch the Sea God’s treasures,” The storyteller yells and points at…you and Rafayel.

 That mother fu—

“There! Seize them!” The guard yells and you groan, clearly annoyed. “Will they imprison us?” Rafayel asks, nonchalantly before adding,“Ah, well...We should start running.”

“We were careless,” You sigh, running a hand through your hair, “Commoners would use coins to pay. Not pearls from the deep sea!” 

“I just found them in the sand before we– ouch!” You grab Rafayel’s hand in a panic, probably too tightly, as you both take off. You drag him into a deserted alleyway. “We’re no longer safe here. We need to find a way back,” You sigh, peering around the corner. 

“Don’t you want to stay?” Rafayel asks, almost sounding a bit melancholic.

“Huh?”

 “If that’s your wish, I can distract them for you,” He says as he rolls his shoulder, getting ready for a fight. “In the Tome of the Sea God, it states I must never go against your wishes. If I did, it would mean we cannot be bound.” He looks down and lightly kicks a pebble.

“I need only one follower, it doesn’t have to be you.”

Ouch...That somehow didn’t feel right to you. The thought of someone else being by his side, romantically or not, didn’t sit well with you. 

“Aren’t…you afraid of me telling others about Lemuria?” You ask, softly as you wrap your arms around yourself and look down at the ground.

“...but you always wanted to live on the surface world, right?” He talks with his hands and you can’t help but sigh.

You shake your head and grab his hand since he seemed a bit confused. “I don’t have a wish…besides this celebration isn’t about me.”

 Rafayel is startled for a moment but then, under the realistic statues of the sea god, he smiles, “This event has nothing to do with me either.”

“The thieves are over here! Capture them!”  You both can hear the guards moving closer, the sound of boots thumping against the pavement. “Damn it– They found us—”

 As you panic on what your next move is, Rafayel pushes you into the shadows and walks out into the street. “Do you all want eyes from the God of the Sea?” He asks, his voice filled with authority. “I have tons. Have at it.” With a flick of his wrist, countless pearls of various sizes soar through the air and cascade onto the ground. The surrounding merchants are stunned before they start to fight one another, picking up as many pearls as they can.

Then the guards start yelling at the pearls are for the emissaries.

“Sir…I don’t want the Sea God’s eyes, but can I have the Sea God puppet instead?” The little girl from earlier is back once more as she looks up at Rafayel who chuckles, “Sure but make sure you keep them together.” He hands her the two puppets before he takes your hand and pulls you into the night.

After this, the guards start closing off the city. You and Rafayel make it out, but now you stand at a cliff side, the ocean churning down below.

“Jump.”

Huh– What?

Sharp, jagged coral and rock lie at the bottom. A single mistake would be disastrous.

“Surely…You jest, right? If we jump, we’ll di— Ah!” You let out a shout as Rafayel kicked you off the cliff. 

“Not with me here.” He chuckles to himself and you hit the water with a loud splash. Rushing water separates you from Rafayel and the horror of drowning washes over you once more. You flail your arms, helpless, desperate to reach the surface. “Rafayel..!”

Beneath the surging waves, you can barely see. In your mind, you had returned to that fateful day when you were tossed overboard. Maybe you had trauma that you didn’t even know you had. Either way, you were full on floundering– almost to the point of having a panic attack.

Maybe your destiny is to die in the ocean and Lemuria was but a mirage– a dream made to cope in your final moments because you still clung to a sliver of hope that you’d make it out alive. 

Frigid, briny water floods your throat, the salt burning your lungs. No matter how many gods are in this world, whether legendary or figments of imagination, you couldn’t place your faith in them.

Even if they are real, why have your prayers gone unanswered? 

Even now, as you edge closer and closer to death’s door…You are alone.

“Breathe and hold on tight.” A voice speaks beside your ear. You open your firmly shut eyes and see a familiar, yet blurry figure. He tightly holds your hand and uses all of his strength. “Rafayel..” You murmur. 

Now, you remember.

Although you hoped for gods to exist, someone has already answered you. Though, he says nothing. His warm hands cup your cheeks as his head moves closer. His lips gently press against yours, a clear contrast to the way you kissed him on the first day you both met.

 “You..! I..!”

“You… you should’ve at least said something before that..!” You hold a hand over your mouth as your whole face turns blood red, your heart beating faster than it was in your earlier panic. 

“If I did…Your last kiss would’ve been given to this generation’s Sea God...Also, watch what your arms and legs are doing.” Only then did you notice that you were in Rafayel’s embrace, like a hermit crab who’s found a new shell. Your legs around his waist and your arms on his shoulder to stay afloat in the water. 

You notice a few scratches on his shoulder and you sigh, “I’m sorry..I left marks on your arms again.”

“I don’t mind,” He says as you unwrap your legs from his waist, “Give me your hand.” He tosses your mask into the ocean, takes your hand, and helps you stand. Your body suddenly felt light, your feet landing on the water’s rippling surface.

You were…standing on the ocean, as steady as you would on land!

As you make your way further out to sea and over the horizon, Rafayel makes a motion with his hand. Waves bloom under your feet, sea foam appearing with your every step. Countless species of fish swim by and seagulls circle overhead and sing as they land on your shoulder.

You’re in awe, your hand being gently held by Rafayel as you can’t even begin to say anything. You couldn’t say anything– or else you’d probably cry.

“We went through a lot of effort to see the sunrise. Why are you so quiet?” He asks, glancing toward you as you turn your head to look up at him.

“No…It’s– I’ve never seen anything this beautiful in my life,” You say, almost breathlessly. You motion for Rafayel to sit down next to you on the ocean’s surface, your feet touching the lapping waves as fish circle around under you both curiously. He raises an eyebrow and pokes a fish that leapt out of the water.

“As a young boy, my life was no different from yours.” Rafayel says and you can’t help but turn to look at him, surprised he’s willing to talk about his past with you. “The prophecy stated that Lemuria was to only have one God of the Sea left. My predecessor passed away and they found me years later, bathed in the flames under the union of dusk and dawn. The deep sea is dangerous…Only the strong survive. ‘Tis why I can only go as far as the surface of the sea.”

“Were you…happy? Have you ever thought about traveling to another place?” You ask, keeping your voice soft to match his low timbre. Your fingers lightly brush against one another as your gaze meets his.

“Who do you think made that hole you swam through in the past?” Rafayel crosses his arms over his chest with a raised eyebrow and a small chuckle.

“Oh– The sun’s rising!” The sun breaks through layers and layers of clouds and Rafayel looks up, observing the glittering sea under its rays. “So it is.”

And like that, many moons have passed since your last rendezvous on the surface. You honestly almost forgot you were in a memory since you could act more freely than in the past. You couldn’t say anything too detrimental, but you could at least change the phrasing of your words.

But with the reminder that you were in a memory in your dreams, you realize the ending has to be coming eventually. Whether it was a good or a bad ending, you can’t tell just yet.

On the night before the Sea God’s ceremony with everyone else asleep, Rafayel takes you to the temple. Pulsating in a steady rhythm behind you, the flame on the pedestal burns.

“When the fire goes out tomorrow, a new lemurian prophecy will appear in the Tome of the Sea God,” Rafayel says as he looks off to the side, turning his body to rest his arms on the stone railing on the second floor. “And when the fire is reignited, the ceremony will end.” 

You tap his shoulder to get his attention and he looks at you out of the corner of his eye. “Hey, describe to me what’s done in the real Sea God’s ceremony.” You prop your elbow up on the railing and rest your cheek on your hand as you look at him. 

Rafayel sets his chin on his hand as he thinks of what to say before he speaks, “We sit on my divine throne adorned with shells and pearls. A hundred golden crab will carry us on a journey to every part of the deep sea.” As he finishes his sentence, he stands up straight to look over at you with a smile.

“That sounds lovely, but wouldn’t everyone be annoyed?” You ask, your head cocking to the side and the purple-haired Lemurian nods his head, “Indeed. I’ll skip the first part of the ceremony. ‘Twas only make-believe nonsense.” 

You go silent for a moment, looking around at the scenery of the temple before Rafayel lifts his hand up and runs it down your hair, fingers lightly gliding down your cheek.

“I don’t know the details of the ceremony,” He says as his hand cups your cheek, “but it won’t be anything like the celebration on the surface world. Every participant will be blessed by the ocean.”

“Will...I receive your blessing?” You ask, meeting his gaze as you lean your face against his palm– almost nuzzling into it. Rafayel pauses, moving his hand as if to grab something from behind your ear. 

When he pulls his hand back, the familiar blue fish swirls around in his palm. 

“Tomorrow’s blessing will be for everyone but ‘tis only yours at this moment.” He closes his hand around the fish and when he reopens it, the same scale you saw before hovers in his palm. “‘Tis a true emissary of the god of the sea. With it in your company, you need not be afraid of the danger that lies ahead.” 

As he says this, he flips his hand over and suddenly the scale is now a necklace. He dangles it in-between his fingers for a moment, before he moves closer to clasp the necklace behind your neck.

He smiles down at you, fingertips dancing along the skin of your neck before he tilts his chin up, “I also have a question. ‘Tis a very, very important one.” He leans his face closer and keeps eye contact with you as he asks, “Are you willing to be my follower?” 

“Hmm...Desiring the sincerest worship of mortals…Thou must offer an irreplaceable object,” You tease, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Rafayel pouts for a moment before he grabs your hand to rest your palm flat against his chest. You feel the warmth of his bare skin beneath your hand, the beats coming from his heart.

“The Sea God’s heart, my heart. Dost thou want it?” His hand slightly squeezes around yours. 

Without another word, you both lean closer to each other, the flame flickers behind you and seemingly startles awake as your lips connect. 

Shadows on the wall tremble and shudder as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your head tilting to the side as the kiss deepens, the both of you seemingly unwilling to pull away. The flame on the pedestal burns brighter the longer the kiss goes on.

Sparkles flying both metaphorically and physically in the dimly lit room. 

Only when you felt Rafayel’s fingers brush against your chin and his tongue touch your lips, did you pull away and the flame returned back to normal.

In case you guys didn't see it on my last post, I wanted to thank you all for enjoying my writing! I'm not going anywhere, I just sincerely wanted to thank you all 🩷 especially with my drabbles, I really didn't think they'd kick off the way that they did, but I'm happy regardless!

I'm glad that something I decided to write in-between my ToF schedule is being enjoyed, and I'll continue to write them until I run out of ideas!

Also I haven't forgotten about the one-shot teasers I posted a little while ago! Last week I felt really out of it and didn't want to write anything, so I'm going to try to write in them a bit more this weekend alongside writing for my newer ideas.

let me add, HAVE YALL SEEN THE NEW FIVE STAR SERIES COMING OUT ON THE 23RD??? Rafayel's card has me in a chokehold AND new outfits for the male leads and MC?? I'm 14 away from a guaranteed 5 star, so you best hope I get rafayel because if I don't— I will cry. It was 100% expecting Sylus's myths to drop, but I don't mind because we're getting a spicy rafayel card! 🥺

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! 🩷

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes , @mitzkooni , @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

[artist-issues]

you're fun to talk to about media so I've got something to ask.

what do you think of this trope where a lie or misconception becomes commonly accepted as truth by the characters in story? especially as a resolution.

example: in the finale of "Kubo and the two strings", the Moon King(main villain) loses his memory, so when he asks who he is, the townspeople lie to him and say he was a kind member of the community, rather than the dictator he really was.

I don't like it. I see a falsehood being widely accepted as a tragedy, and I'm just left imagining what happens if/when the characters find out the truth. I can't really take something as a happy ending when it's.. y'know, fake. I imagine you feel similarly.

but hey, I could have totally missed the point of the ending of KATTS, if you watched it, you might have seen something I didn't.

I haven’t seen Kubo in a really long time; I don’t think I was thinking critically about it the first time I watched it, so my opinion now is an afterthought. I’d have to see it again to be fair!

…But I do seem to remember that the villain is defeated with some importance placed on memory. And the identity of the monkey and that beetle warrior also have to do with the sacredness of memories. So, if that’s the case, then yeah, taking his memory away as a “good resolution” can kind of hamstring the whole theme of the movie. Unless you tilt your head and squint and go, “no, see, if all you have is bad memories, then it’s just as powerful to take those away—the point is, memories have power either way!” But even that feels a little half-baked, gymnastics-brainy.

Basically, I agree with you. A story that resolves with a character, or characters, accepting a lie as truth is always going to be a fumble of the whole story…unless it’s intended to be a tragedy, a cautionary tale. I can think of three where that’s super evident.

1 ) A Streetcar Named Desire

In this movie the main character, Blanche, is lying about who she is, for the whole story. She even has this great symbolism thing with light—she hates bright light, on the surface because she’s vain and doesn’t want anyone to see signs that she’s aging. But under the surface, the character is really an immoral, lust-filled, broken person who knows she can be cruel and isn’t deserving of love. She doesn’t want anyone to know that side of her. She hides it all under vainglory and pride. So she pretends to her sister, Stella, that she’s upright and moral and has simply fallen on hard times. But her sister’s brute of an abusive husband, Stanley, who is always 100% his authentic, awful self, sees through Blanche when she comes to stay with them. In the end, Stanley rapes Blanche and then carelessly shrugs her accusations off.

The main point of this example is that Stella, the wife of the rapist Stanley, has been portrayed the whole movie as sometimes-leaving her abusive husband…but only as far as the apartment above their own, literally right above him, so that she can easily go back to him. And at the end of the movie, when Blanche is being taken to a mental institution because she’s broken-down after being found-out as a fraud, then raped, Stella lets them take her away. And then Stella goes up to the apartment above, where she always “pretends” to leave Stanley. It’s such a halfhearted, lazy way to end a movie that’s all about desire-versus-truth. Because what it implies is that Stella is leaving Stanley for now, like she might believe that he raped her sister…but she’ll eventually go back to him. And in the meantime, Blanche goes off to the mental hospital, with this iconic line “I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers.” By which she means, “strangers don’t know what a two-faced monster I really am, so I can con them into thinking I’m a morally-upright woman fallen on hard times, and they’ll take pity on me—so sure, I’ll go with you, strange doctor I’ve never met.”

The central point of the movie is “as long as nobody looks the truth in the face, everyone can go on getting what they desire.”

Of course, that’s true. But the other truth is that, if Stella accepted what her sister and her husband really are—her sister is broken and her husband is a monster—then she could choose to rise above “animal desire.” She could choose to take care of Blanche, and Blanche would see that “someone seeing who I really am” doesn’t always have to lead to ruin and damnation. Stella could then, also, choose to really leave Stanley, for good, and be at peace, while Stanley’s “desire” would be rewarded with ruin.

But instead the opposite is what happens. Blanche goes away believing, in her broken mind, that her womanly wiles and faking will protect her from further injury, even though they never have—Stanley ends the movie exactly where he began it, screaming for Stella to come back and knowing that she will—and Stella, too, ends the movie going away from Stanley…just for a little while, until animal desire convinces her to just pretend Stanley isn’t really a monster, Blanche must be crazy, except this time, when she goes back, she’ll be carrying a child into that abusive lie.

All characters wholeheartedly embracing hurtful lies so they can keep riding their desires. I hate that movie. You could see it as a cautionary tale. Most don’t. Most see it as a movie with “hot Marlon Brando” who “really loves Stella—all the characters ‘really love each other,’ they just don’t know how to express it healthily!” 🙄

I think the worst part is that the movie behaves as if it is true that every time Blanche reveals her own brokenness or is vulnerable, the world STOMPS on her for it, nobody loves her despite her brokenness. That’s the real mistake this movie makes. It has an opportunity to show unconditional love and it leaves the audience thinking Blanche was right, and there’s no such THING as “unconditional” love, instead.

Anyway.

2) X-Men Origins: The Wolverine

This one is less thematic. But it’s just dumb because the whole movie the main character, Logan, Wolverine, is being taught that “Giving in to Bloodlust Makes You an Animal—Compassion For Those Weaker Than Yourself Makes You Human.”

So in that context, the whole narrative is centered around the exploration of “Who is Logan/Wolverine?”

…Which makes it really stupid that the movie ends with him losing his memory. So…the movie asks “Who Are You?” and right after the character figures it out, he forgets and ends it with the answer: “I don’t know who I am.”

That’s just a waste. That’s silly. It allows you to take the character to real, hearty, coming-of-age, hero-forged-in-fire, a man-born-of-tragedy places…and then just shrug all that stuff off at the end. “Never mind. But it was a fun ride, wasn’t it?”

Especially because they built it all around the dichotomy between Logan and his brother, who’s little more than an animal—and Logan and his wife, who could be an animal, but chooses compassion instead, and reminds him of his choice, too. —and then she dies, and it’s implied that maybe his brother does too, but who cares, cuz he forgets. Who cares? Not Logan. So why should the audience?

I get that they “needed” to do this so that the end of this movie sets up the beginning of the X-Men Movies, which already established that Logan can’t remember “his past.” But like…then don’t make the point of the movie “Who Am I?” just to end on “…Okay, So WHO AM I?”

It’s a fine movie up until that point.

They should’ve made the movie center around “Can’t Change What You’ve Done; But You Can Be Redeemed.” And then show his memory loss around a moment of self-sacrifice. So that it’s still tragic, but at least when he wakes up from the self-sacrificial act, he’s “a new man.” Then later, in the third X-Men movie, when Logan chooses that mutant kid over “learning the secrets of his past,” it all comes full circle, because his “self-sacrifice moment” can stay where the Old Logan died.

Anyway. You didn’t ask me to re-tell X-Men Origins: The Wolverine. But it’s the same basic premise—a movie ends with a character losing their memory, or believing a lie—whatever.

You know, actually, this one isn’t so much “believing a lie” as it is “going back to considering the lie (that he’s an animal) because all the work done to convince him of the truth has been stupidly erased”

3) The Dark Knight

Saved this for last because nobody would read all that if they saw me scratching up the beloved Christopher Nolan Masterpiece.

But The Dark Knight is a perfect example of what you’re actually talking about.

The movie is awesome until the end.

It’s not hard to guess what I’m going to say. Harvey Dent is supposed to be a shining example of a good guy, and the goodness, that Gotham is capable of. The Goodness that will ultimately defeat Evil. And Evil is represented as Chaos.

Bruce sees that and that’s why he’s willing to give everything to make Harvey succeed as the hero Gotham needs. Because if Gotham sees that evil can be conquered by doing things the right way, the orderly way, that will get Gotham out of it’s “Justice is Broken, Vengeance is The Only Form of Justice” cycle.

Then there’s the Joker. He doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as Good—it’s all just Chaos (which is evil.) And his big mission is to prove it. It’s ironic that he twists Harvey’s sense of “justice” around to this viewpoint—where Harvey uses “chance” as just another form of “retribution.”

Anyway. All of that’s interesting.

But the movie both perpetuates a lie and does so by having the characters end believing a lie.

The lie it perpetuates is “The Joker is right, there’s no such thing as Justice or Good—it’s all just chaos, but pretending it’s not can get you through the day.”

That’s the lie it perpetuates!

And how does it do that?

By having the “city of Gotham,” and Bruce himself, believe a lie.

They believe Harvey Dent really was a good guy who died a hero. Bruce believes Rachel died still waiting for him, which symbolized her supposed belief in the good of Bruce and capability of Bruce to let it all go.

And why was it important that they believe those lies? Because the supposed truth is too harsh—that there’s no Good, it’s all Chaos. And if they believe that supposed truth, they’ll all turn out like Harvey or Joker. If Bruce believes Rachel chose Harvey, he’ll supposedly give up on something important in himself.

Okay but the problem with that is you have characters believing a lie because of a truth—that isn’t the truth. It’s the same problem with Streetcar.

The people of Gotham, the worst people of Gotham, aren’t always going to choose evil. There is such a thing as justice and good. And Harvey turning into Two-Face doesn’t change that. The movie could’ve shown that. It started to, with the prisoners on the second boat choosing not to kill the civilians to save themselves.

But it chose not to make that the point of the movie. It chose to make “The Joker was Right, Good is a Comforting Lie, & the Closest You’ll Ever Get to Justice is Vengeance & Chaos” the point of the movie. By having Batman convince the whole city to believe the comforting lie, what you’re saying is, Bruce believes that the truth won’t set Gotham free, only wrap it in chains.

That’s the problem with these movies.

And that’s why I think Captain America: The Winter Soldier licks The Dark Knight hollow every time, and is all-in-all a better movie, hands down. In this continued essay—

[some-messed-up-writing-for-you]

"Floral Affections" - Part 4

GN!Reader x Plant Monster

CW: slight suggestive themes.

It's here!! :DD Sorry that it's been ages since the last part. I'm just happy I finally finished part 4. Enjoy, fellas!

Part 1 | Previous Part |

~~~~

It was almost time. Oh boy.

You stood before the grand doors of Lord Sorrel’s home, the ornate wood looking particularly intimidating on this fine morning. But despite your nerves being strung high, you were still very excited.

With a final lookover, you admired the floral patterns adorning your outfit one last time before knocking upon the doors. As you waited, you hoped your appearance was presentable enough; you didn’t possess anything as lavish as your lord did after all.

You reassured yourself he wouldn’t judge.

Eventually, the door opened, and Lord Sorrel’s bright face greeted you with a smile. Somehow, he looked even prettier than usual... and seemed to feel the same way about you.

Both of you got distracted appreciating one another’s looks before you took the charge and exclaimed, “Lord Sorrel! Good morning!”

A flustered blush heated your face as he broke out of his own trance. “G-Good morning, my dear! You’re right on time—I just finished setting everything up!”

Very eagerly, the Lord stepped aside and welcomed you inside. You followed his gleeful self through the house, admiring the architecture. This was your second time inside the mansion, the first being the day of your employment. Back then, you had been here for business, but now?

Now you were here... on a date?

You flustered more at the thought. It seemed crazy! And yet, it was happening right before your eyes.

Your smile grew as Sorrel led you outside, sunlight warming your skin. He took you down a familiar path, right into the heart of the garden, where a beautiful gazebo stood proudly. The sight was mesmerizing. Butterflies and bees fluttered about the place, and the flowers waved gently in the breeze.

Set in the gazebo’s shade, your breakfast patiently waited. A pair of plates covered by metal lids sat on the table with a glass vase between them, filled with a combination of plants that had your body lit aflame with unmatched heat.

The small bouquet consisted of red and pink morning glories, which spoke of passion and love, respectively. And although their presence already warmed your heart, they weren’t quite what had gotten such a reaction out of you. No, it was the coriander surrounding them.

Coriander, which was a symbol of... lust.

The message couldn’t be more clear, and you were suddenly—but curiously—questioning how this little date would end.

Once this revelation finished processing in your brain, you turned to Lord Sorrel, who appeared equally flustered. He was also, however, quite literally shaking with excitement.

The petals around his head moved in a wave as he briskly approached the table and politely pulled out a seat for you. The gesture had you swooning a little more as you thanked him and sat down. He pushed the chair in for you before damn-near dashing to reveal your breakfast to you.

As he lifted the metal covers, a variety of sweet scents drew into the air. Your mouth watered at the delicious sight of nearly a dozen rolled pancakes, all with different fillings, and a side of juicy fruits. A glass of wine was also set beside you before your gracious host finally took his own seat.

You looked at him with starry eyes. “Lord Sorrel, this looks amazing. Thank you again for inviting me.”

His smile turned shy. “It’s a pleasure to have you here, my dear. And please, just Sorrel is fine.”

“I may call you by name?” you questioned in surprise and were answered with a delighted nod. You gave a grin in return. “Alright then. Thank you for this lovely breakfast, Sorrel.”

Hearing you utter his name so sweetly seemed to put the plantman on cloud nine. He looked especially thrilled by it, and you had to hold back a giggle from how cute he looked.

In an effort to distract yourself from his charming face, you chose to dig into your food, gleefully stabbing a piece of pancake onto your fork. The moment it touched your tongue, a quiet moan slipped from your lips. You couldn’t help yourself; it was delicious.

The flavors danced upon your tastebuds, each bite better than the last. Sorrel was quick to join, though he kept stealing glances of your pleased expression. You were just too stunning to him like this, absorbed in the simple yet effective pleasures of food.

And to top it all off, it was his food! He couldn’t be happier... or so he thought.

The breakfast continued in relative silence, going by quickly but calmly as the two of you enjoyed one another’s presence. Once you finished eating, however, your eyes wandered back to the daring little plant decorating the table.

As you slowly sipped the last of your wine, you gathered your courage and bit the bullet. “These are... very lovely flowers,” you began, immediately catching his attention. “Any reason why you picked these ones exactly?”

Sorrel’s petals stood on end, stiff as rose thorns, until they suddenly bent inward, completely hiding his face from view. You jumped at the sudden movement, going from shock to confusion to amusement.

“Sorrel?” you asked with the tiniest hint of a laugh.

The plantman groaned in defeat, bowing his head and putting it in his hands as if they could hide him any further. “Forgive me, my dear, but I... fear I cannot say it out loud. It is too much for my heart to bear.”

If you had any doubts about falling for him, they were completely gone within an instant of hearing his words. Gods, the more you got to know him, the more he seemed like a lovable goofball rather than a scary nobleman.

His goofiness had your heart racing all the same.

“Then perhaps...” you started, “if you struggle with your reasons for these… daring admissions…” His breath hitched as you talked, and a few of his petals shifted ever so slightly, letting him peek out and look at you. “...you could speak of what you wish to do?”

“To do...” he mimicked, trailing off unsurely.

“To me,” you finished daringly, pushing him back into hiding once more.

His petals shook vigorously before he quietly began, “I… wish to hold you close…”

“What else?” you urged, lowering your voice as if speaking of filthy secrets.

He slowly began to unwind from his shell, though with great effort. “I want to… kiss you… touch you… I–”

Once his petals pulled back at last, he looked into your eyes with a gaze so hungry it threw you off course completely. “I want to make you mine.”

Just seconds ago, you had the upper hand but suddenly found yourself shy. Your face only grew hotter as Sorrel took hold of your hand and gently pulled, urging you to come to him.

Your now-wobbly legs carried you around the small table where you settled in his lap. He tilted your chin up to look at him, the soft caress drawing excited shivers down your spine.

“Darling, may I?” he asked, leaning closer, his lips but a breath away from yours.

You swallowed your nerves in favor of tasting excitement and gave a faint nod. “Yes…, please.”

Once the small gap between you two was sealed, control began to wither in both of you. Soft, shy moans were exchanged between kisses. Nervous but interested hands wandered as things slowly heated up.

Your fingers glided through the mane of fuzzy leaves on his neck as Sorrel explored the locks of your hair. The feeling was fantastic. It urged you to properly straddle Sorrel’s lap, your thighs encompassing his waist.

His hand tightened its grip on your hair as you pressed against him, grinding your sex against his. Sparks of pleasure shot through you two, dragging out more wanting moans.

The moment did, however, end up being partially disturbed.

Your Lord got a little too excited. The brilliant petals of his face surrounded yours in a sudden move, pulling you closer. The unexpected grab had you jumping back with a gasp for air. And you only now realized just how breathless you’d become.

Sorrel looked equally surprised with himself and rushed to explain, but you shut his stuttered yapping with a firm kiss. After taking a moment to recompose, you finally took notice of the golden dust fluttering in the air and covering your entire face. It had a lovely, sweet scent.

You trailed a few fingers down your own cheek curiously to examine it better. “What is this stuff?”

When you turned back to Sorrel, he looked ready to vanish into the earth. His petals twitched, stuck between wanting to hide him and to curl around you once more. “I-I’m sorry, love. I should’ve mentioned this sooner. This is… my pollen.”

“O-Oh!” Your face flushed, both from the new pet name and info.

“I-It’s not quite what you think though!” Sorrel stumbled out the words, absentmindedly pawing at your waist. “This is… how my kind marks their partners. It is how I leave my scent on you.”

You eyed the golden powder on your hand with a new perspective before looking back to Sorrel. You cracked a smile. “Well, kind of a shame I can’t do the same, huh?”

“Ohhh, love…” Sorrel groaned in a way you had yet to hear, the sound coming deep from his chest. “But you can… Your scent, albeit fainter than what I’m used to, still makes my mind go blank; it makes me think only of you.”

He leaned closer, speaking in a hushed whisper. “Even if you cannot sense it yourself, know that it turns my desire for you into a starving wolf, eternally hungry for more. ”

To say those words got you excited would be an understatement. And while you could feel that excitement pooling between your legs, Sorrel could smell it in the air.

This new knowledge was going to ruin you in the best way possible.

The desire Sorrel felt for you was heavy and overwhelming, prompting another groan out of his lips. His head fell to rest on your shoulder; husky words whispered in your ear, raising goosebumps across your skin. “Darling, please. May I have you?”

Even if you weren’t drowning in a cocktail of excitement and horniness at the moment, you don’t think you would’ve declined him.

[radioapplerevue]

Hello!!! I was wondering if u had any radioapple headcanons? :)

Hello! I am... very sorry it took this long for me to reply. I saw the ask at work and then closed it to answer later, but once it was closed and out of my view then in my brain's opinion, it promptly ceased to exist.

Anyway my headcanons are a bit malleable depending on the situation/how they got together/the environment they're in/etc. But I'll try and jot down a few.

Alastor picks Lucifer up a lot. I mean look at him, he's tiny. Sometimes Alastor will have conversations with people with Lucifer slung over his shoulders, hanging from the crook of his elbow, or in the occasional princess carry. Alastor enjoys this because he thinks it's embarrassing for Lucifer. Lucifer enjoys this because he gets to be carried (even if he acts like it's embarrassing so Alastor will keep doing it).

Their coming together was slow, and started by them just learning to be in the same room without going for the throat. Eventually it turned into them talking, and then their chairs getting closer, and then Lucifer showing interest in one of Alastor's hobbies -- probably music. Because they are both overenthusiastic weirdos about their personal interests, and while Alastor doesn't share some of Lucifer's (the ducks, the circus, all things fruity and sweet, etc), Lucifer shares quite a few of Alastor's (music, dancing, cooking, disliking television, well tailored clothes, etc).

One of their favorite things to do is just hole up in a room in their respective spots and read. Their tastes in fiction don't always align, but they learn enough about the other's tastes that they can recognize what they might like when they come across it. Lucifer starts bringing Alastor books as gifts, and eventually Alastor starts to reciprocate, but only by leaving books in places that Lucifer is likely to run across them. If Lucifer tries to thank him, he'll disavow all knowledge.

Lucifer enjoys listening to Alastor's radio show.

Alastor enjoys listening to Lucifer sing.

Lucifer, as an angel, existed long before sex and gender were even things. Thus, he doesn't have any particular attachment to either. He's been in one form for ten thousand years because it's the one that Lilith (and later Charlie) knew, but he's fine with shifting it around as he pleases. Regarding sex, Lucifer enjoys it, but doesn't need it. If his partner isn't into it, then neither is he. What he desires isn't sex, but intimacy. He wants to be wanted, in whatever form that takes.

It takes a while before Alastor trusts Lucifer enough to even begin to allow any sort of sexual activities, but he quickly relaxes once it's proven that Lucifer will not only not force anything onto him, but will not expect anything of him, either. Lucifer will be just as happy if the night ends in a cuddle, or even just lying side by side and talking if Alastor's not up for that.

When they do start having sex, though they will play around with different dynamics as it suits them, Alastor tends to prefer letting Lucifer take the lead. Since his interest in sex is most often not the sex and more about being close to Lucifer and enjoying being the source of his pleasure, he doesn't feel any particular inclination to be the one making decisions. Plus, this way Lucifer has to do all the work, and Alastor's the center of attention the entire time. Why would he pass up on that?

Alastor doesn't feel like he's lacking any control when Lucifer leads in bed. There's a heady sort of power that comes from the knowledge that no matter what they're doing, no matter how close Lucifer is to climax, all it takes is one word or one unhappy noise from Alastor and Lucifer will stop completely. And if Alastor says so, then that's it for the night. He's tested it, in the early days when he was still skeptical, and Lucifer never complains, never pushes. (There's safety in this as well as power, but Alastor tries to think about that less.)

Lucifer, for his part, understands how much trust Alastor is showing in him by allowing himself to be that vulnerable. This makes him feel touched, honored, possessive and honestly, very protective. (Angel Dust has learned the hard way by now not to ask for details about how Alastor is in bed -- and it wasn't from Alastor. Lucifer will protect Alastor's vulnerabilities with his life).

I'm thrilled that fandom has run with the "Alastor's shadow is affectionate with Lucifer" idea, because it's one of my favorites. I also believe that his shadow is an extension of his own feelings, particularly the ones he hides behind his buttoned up exterior -- so when things start to get friendlier with Lucifer, the shadow shows Alastor's growing interest before Alastor himself does. And when they do get farther along... well. Good luck reining that thing in. (SHADOW RIGHTS)

When Charlie first found out, she thought it was a prank on their part in order to get them out of bonding exercises.

That's some of them! Hope that'll do!

[naturesapphic]

hii what about Billie regresses involuntarily, R didn't knew about it so she thinks it's kinda weird, like, unusual, eventually Billie falls asleep and when she wakes up she's sure R left, super scared and insecure but it all ends with cuteness and happiness!

Regressed

Little!billie eilish x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, reader being confused

You and your girlfriend billie were at her house hanging out. It was a regular day until billie was acting different. She was sucking on her thumb, when she talked her voice was high pitched a bit, she kept babbling and talking about wanting her baba. You realized that she was acting like a kid which made you really confused and worried.

Billie noticed your body language and how the look on your face was. So she decided to speak up about it. “Chu otays?” Billie asked you and you didn’t speak, you just nodded your head slowly. Billie pouted and rested her head on the arm of the couch, falling asleep. You needed a second to process all of this so you decided to get up and go outside for a bit, maybe take a little walk around the house.

It was an hour later when Billie woke up. She sat up on the couch slowly, rubbing her eyes to get the sleepiness out when she saw that you weren’t in your spot when she last saw you at. She knew that you were sitting beside her and now you’re not. Maybe she scared you off with her age regression. She hopes that wasn’t the case but after getting up and looking around more, she couldn’t help but think that.

It wasn’t until she heard the front door open and you walking through did she realize that you actually didn’t leave. “Y-yn!” Billie babbled out as she ran up to you and hugged you right. You were even more confused but you still hugged her. “What’s wrong bils?” You asked her and she sniffled. “T-thoughts c-chu weft m-mes…” she whispered and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “No no I wouldn’t do that to you bils. I may be confused and all but I wouldn’t do that.” You explained to her and she nodded.

The two of you sat on the couch where Billie explained what age regression was to you and caregivers. After talking for about an hour or two you got a grasp on what all of it means. You even offered to be her official caregiver. Which of course you gave her a warning since this is your first time, but she reassured you that she will help you as much as she can and for you to do some more research. The rest of the day was great, learning more about age regression and helping your little Billie.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed this @tslovely ! I hope the rest of y’all enjoyed it too! I’m gonna post another Billie fic probably tonight so keep an eye out for that! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all :)

[brainwashed-babe]

Correctional Training

It had all fallen apart so fast.

Tara wasn't even at the front lines of the protest. She was there, sure, but she didn't see what happened when things broke apart and got bad. She and the rest of the women's rights activists there had been making noise and chanting, sure, demonstrating against the campaign of Robert Walken, the regressive sexist candidate for Congress. But they certainly hadn't broken any laws. Then the counterprotestors showed up - angry, rough-looking men, jeering and laughing and throwing things at the women. Tensions rose. Eventually, somebody pushed things too far, and - well, it was chaos. The police streamed in, grabbing up everyone they could. All the women, at least. It seemed like they were barely interested in the counterprotestors.

Tara was charged, along with dozens of other women, with a long list of crimes. Vandalism. Resisting arrest. Mayhem. Property damage. Larceny. Assault. It was an absolute travesty of a trial - the women were tried as a group, with barely any chance to speak in their own defense. Tara was charged, tried, convicted, and sentenced in less than a day.

Weirdly, she didn't get a fine, or probation, or even prison time. She, like all the other women tried alongside her, was sentenced to "one rotation of recuperative training therapy". Whatever that meant, it sounded better than prison, so she didn't complain.

----------

That's how she ended up in this room. This cell, really. Small and white and sterile, she was isolated here, away from the other women. Each of them were in their own room, she assumed. Here she was left, alone and confused, for a day and a half. She was pretty sure it was about that long, at least. She had no real way to tell.

Eventually, a man came in. Some kind of guard or orderly or something. As much as she hated him for keeping her captive like this, Tara couldn't help but be happy to see him. The isolation was driving her a little crazy already, so any human contact was welcome. He gave her a quick physical, making sure she was healthy and unharmed. He gave her two shots in the arm, telling her they were inoculations to make sure she stayed healthy. 

In fact, they were sedatives. She was groggy and half-conscious within ten minutes. At that point, the man returned with a few others. They stripped Tara, dressing her in skimpy white lingerie. They posed her up into a kneeling position, binding her thighs to her ankles to keep her that way. They strapped her wrists together, and leashed her to the wall. Finally, they slid a VR visor over her eyes.

And before they left, as she started to come back to some level of awareness, they started the program on the visor.

It wasn't a garish, swirling light show. Just pulsing, subtle colors, soothing and calming. There were letters there, but small and distant. They pulsed as they scrolled across her vision. Over time, images appeared. Pictures of the women at the protest, yelling and demonstrating. This was accompanied by low, scraping, buzzing noises that made Tara wince. Pictures of Robert Walken on stage, smiling, orating, telling of his vision for the future of the area. These images came with soaring, lilting, melodic noises that made Tara's heart swell. The words over his picture, words that she couldn't quite read, were things like love and loyalty and power and obedience and awe and devotion and service and delight and yes and anything and worship.

----------

Eleven days later, the newly-elected Congressman Walken toured the facility he'd paid to set up. He'd seen half a dozen women so far, all dutifully kneeling and reciting praises about him. He looked over Tara, who still had her visor on as she answered questions from an examiner.

"Are you happy Congressman Walken won his election?"

"Oh yes! I'm so pleased. He deserves it. He deserves everything."

"How do you feel about him?"

"The Congressman? I love him. I'd do anything for him. Please, can I serve him in some way? That's all I want."

"Are you a feminist, Tara?"

"Oh no, of course not. I believe in the natural order. Women are meant to be of service to the men around them."

The Congressman gave a little flick of his hand, stopping the questions. He nodded, pointing at Tara, who was completely unaware he was there. 

"That one," he said simply, and left the room.

The examiner made a note - when she finished the last couple of days of her training, Tara would be assigned as one of Congressman Walken's personal, full-service aides. 

She'd be so happy.

[hollyhomburg]

Y E S i live for sad bily facts

Okay so! Hiding them in the tags cuz I’m on mobile enter at your own risk

[avirael]

The Frozen Lake

It was the third day since he had stopped feeling like dying.

About a week ago he had woken up from his far too lifelike fever dream and a few days later the last spikes of the fever itself had been gone too just like the hallucinations it had brought in his sleep.

He still had been sick though and welcomed Rael telling him to stay in bed until he was perfectly healthy again all too eagerly.

While he still sneezed every now and then, it was at least tolerable now, still annoying but he didn’t feel incredibly uncomfortable anymore.

That day, just like the last and also the ones before that, he had awoken late. Against Rael’s order to stay in bed he had found the courage to get up and take a look out of the window. It was a sunny day, which in Coerthas still meant that it was bitterly cold though. But the sun was shining brightly and already high in the sky too which meant it had to be almost midday. He had slept way too long again, way to many hours for a surprisingly dreamless sleep. Or maybe it was exactly the lack of dreams that allowed him to finally rest, after all in the past there rarely had been good ones…

For a moment he considered to go downstairs and ask for a late breakfast if that wasn’t too insolent given the late hour but then a knock sounded from the door.

Quickly he hurried back to bed, just in case it was Rael, but the person who carefully peeked into the room a few seconds later wasn’t a viera.

“Ah, you are awake! That’s good!”, Haurchefant exclaimed happily and brought a small tray with hot soup and also something warm to drink. “It is so late already, you must be horribly hungry. Alphinaud checked in on you earlier but you were still fast asleep and he didn’t have the heart to wake you.”

A little uncertain on how to answer to that, A’viloh just nodded. Haurchefant grinned, put down a mug on the bedside table and handed A‘viloh a comfortingly warm bowl filled with some rather delicious smelling stew.

Instead of fetching the chair from the small desk by the window, Haurchefant sat down at the lower end of the bed balancing the tray with his own lunch on his knees. Rael once told him that ishgardian society had an absurd amount of strict and antiquated rules and so A’viloh couldn’t help but wonder, that although it seemed like a very appropriate distance to him, in Haurchefant’s hometown the fact alone that he dared to sit on someone else’s bed was probably scandalous.

“I hope you don’t mind me having lunch with you.”, the Elezen asked as he noticed A‘viloh staring.

Quickly the Miqo’te lowered his gaze to his bowl of soup. “Not at all.”, he muttered and tried a spoonful of the food just to change the topic. “Mhh, this is very good!”, he mumbled, still chewing, surprised by how good this really was compared to the bland food and bitter teas Rael had usually brought him these last few days. It must have been the Viera’s way of punishing him for running away.

Haurchefant laughed and then for a while they ate in silence.

“You look a lot healthier already.”, the Elezen stated after a while with an amiable smile on his face before taking a sip from his mug.

A‘viloh shrugged a little embarrassed, since it had been his own fault that he hadn’t been well in the first place. “Only because all of you took so good care of me.”

Haurchefant nodded. “You know, you had us all horribly worried right?”

“Sorry about that.”, he said and guitily looked into his mug.

Curiously Haurchefant eyed him for a moment. “Why did you do that anyway? Run out into the storm.”

A bit surprised A’viloh looked up. Had they all thought he had done this on purpose? “There wasn’t a storm when I left! What do I know about weather? I didn’t expect it to start snowing, let alone that much!”

That made the Elezen chuckle again but he still looked at him expecting an answer.

“Still… why did you leave?”

“I assumed Rael told you…”, A’viloh replied not sure what Haurchefant wanted to hear exactly. He nodded. “Rael did. But maybe I want to hear it from you…”

A’viloh sighed. His plan hadn’t been very smart and he felt a little uncomfortable having to explain his reasons to someone else, when in retrospect it didn’t make much sense even to his own ears.

“You know the… circumstances under which we fled Ul’dah… I couldn’t… um… the fact that we didn’t even know what happened to our friends… I wanted to find out, because it doesn’t seem fair to me that we escaped while all of them didn’t…”

“Mhh…”, Haurchefant nodded thoughtfully but let go off the topic for now. Instead he asked, „And how are you feeling today?”

Somehow that question confused A’viloh even more.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s a simple question, isn’t it?”, he said still smiling politely.

Of course it was a simple question. Just the answer felt unreasonable complicated to him. To make things even more difficult people who asked such a question usually wanted to hear “I‘m fine, and you?” or “Very good, thank you.” for an answer and rarely the truth. They certainly didn’t want to hear “A few days ago I was convinced I was going to die and honestly it wasn’t that bad, so now I‘m still not sure wether I am happy to still be alive or not”.

“Alright… I guess.”, he mumbled instead. He had never been a good liar and could only hope that this fact wasn’t too obvious for the Elezen.

“You know what?”, Haurchefant proclaimed after watching him thoughtfully for a second. “Today is a wonderful day. We should go for a walk.”

“A walk?!”, A’viloh exclaimed wide-eyed, as if he had just asked something unreasonable of him.

“Why not?”

A’viloh couldn’t think of a good reason why not, other than that he was supposed to stay in bed, so he shrugged.

“Where’s Rael?”, he asked instead.

Haurchefant smirked. “Do you need Rael’s permission to go outside?”

“Of course not.”, the Miqo’te protested. “But Rael will be mad if I run off again, especially against their orders to stay in bed.”

“Rael and Alphinaud went to the observatory earlier.”, Haurchefant explained. “We’ll be back before they are, I promise.”

What was A’viloh supposed to say against that and also against the expectant look on the Elezen’s face. He took another glimpse towards the window and decided that it looked nice enough to go outside.

“Fine.”

“Good!”, Haurchefant exclaimed happily and collected their empty bowls and mugs. “There should be warm clothes for you in the wardrobe. If you need anything else just ask someone. I’ll wait for you by the northern gate.”

After Haurchefant had left, A’viloh remained sitting in his bed for a moment longer contemplating on the Elezen’s question. Yes, he felt better again. But better in what comparison? Better than a few days ago when he had felt and also been half-dead? Though he didn’t feel sick anymore now, there still was a weigh on his heart. From his plan that had failed so spectacularly and even more so from the dreams he wouldn’t have minded to keep on dreaming forever.

Vehemently he shook his head and decided not to think about that now or he would just crawl back under the blanket of his comfortably warm bed again. Instead he got up and took a look into the wardrobe. Almost none of these were his own clothes of course since all he possessed were the ones he had worn on his body that day they fled Ul’dah. Very unsuitable for this climate. But neither did he see the borrowed clothes he had worn that night when he had tried to run away. Everything in here looked even softer and warmer like someone had wanted to make sure he was feeling comfortable. To his surprise the things didn’t look that much too big for him either, unlike his last set of clothes. Besides a few Hyur most people here at Camp Dragonhead were grown up Elezen but these clothes looked like they belonged to neither. Maybe it were clothes for Elezen children, he wondered and also thought that in that case someone must have brought them here just for him.

Grateful for so much effort he picked a few pieces and got dressed. Lazily he ran his fingers through his hair to get rid of the worst knots but the look into the small mirror at the washbasin, where his tired face stared back at him reproachfully, just made him sigh. Once he was ready he took the warm coat out of the wardrobe too and went out to look for Haurchefant. Just as he had said, the Elezen was standing by the gate that led to the north-east, towards the ruins of the Steel Vigil.

From afar Haurchefant already recognised the Miqo’te, his bright red hair a singularity among all the people living here. Pleasantly smiling as always he waved at him and A’viloh couldn’t help but smile a little too and wave back as he hurriedly walked towards him.

“There you are! I see the clothes fit you nicely.”

A’viloh nodded.

“They do. Thank you very much for these.”

Haurchefant dismissively waved with one hand. “It’s the least I could do…”

But he had done a lot more than that, A’viloh thought. “I think there’s more I need to thank you for. Rael told me it was you who saved my life.”

“Mhhh…”, Haurchefant tilted his head as if he wasn’t sure if this statement was entirely the truth. “Rael is too humble. They played a bit of a role in that too. After all it was Rael who noticed you were gone. And it was also Rael who didn’t leave your bedside and tried their best to heal you.”

A’viloh remembered waking up and finding the usually quite touch-averse viera cuddled up to him with a look on their face so horribly sad like he had never seen on them before. Rael had pretended it was nothing but it had been a very unconvincing performance. Asked about it Alphinaud had only offered a few sentences about how worried Rael had looked and how they had used all kinds of spells he himself had never seen or heard of before, all of it to try and save him. It had made him feel even more guilty for his stupidity.

So maybe Haurchefant was right. But still it had been him who had risked going out into the storm to find him.

“Anyway. I still want to thank you! Honestly.”, he insisted. But how honestly was it really?

Sure, he was glad to still be alive. After all his plan hadn’t been to run out into a blizzard and freeze to death, although some of them seemed to think that was the case. But once he found himself in this situation he had to admit that he had welcomed his fate rather willingly. A fact that shocked even himself a little looking back at it now.

“You’re welcome. After all you wouldn’t be any help to your friends frozen to death out there.”, Haurchefant joked with a wry smile on his lips.

“I guess not...”, A’viloh muttered, the topic of his friends making his mood visibly sink again.

Of course the Elezen noticed and his smile turned into a playful grin. “But I acted a little selfish too, you know? I think Camp Dragonhead is a lot friendlier with your company and I would like to have you and your pretty smile around a little longer.”

For a moment A’viloh’s eyes shot up to look at the others face before he quickly pretended that something somewhere a little bit to his left was a lot more interesting. Sometimes Haurchefant randomly said things, A’viloh hadn’t had the slightest idea how to react to. Not because he was that oblivious but simply because it puzzled him. Nonetheless the air suddenly didn’t feel that cold anymore on his face.

Haurchefant was always very kind to him. Well, he mostly was kind to everybody but sometimes he seemed to admire him especially. Him of all people, although there was nothing special about him. Haurchefant sometimes spoke of him like he was one of the greatest heroes of all time and it felt so ridiculous to him. He was just silly, cowardly A‘viloh! What had he ever achieved in his miserable life to justify such admiration? The people called him a Warrior of Light but wasn’t that some grand overstatement? Some days he thought all of this had been a horrible mistake. A great misunderstanding! Then he wondered how he had ever gotten entangled in this madness in the first place and also if he ever would get out of it again. But what else should he do with his life anyway...

While A’viloh’s brain still screeched in desperate search for a proper response, Haurchefant seemed to realise he had flustered him and glossed it over by gesturing to the gate.

“How about we walk a few yalms? There’s something you need to see!”

Still too dumbstruck to speak or to even wonder what the Elezen was talking about, A’viloh nodded and then proceeded to follow him out into the snowy landscape.

After a few minutes Haurchefant paused and took a deep breath. “Isn’t the air wonderful today?”

A’viloh followed his example, breathed deeply and let his gaze wander over the snow covered landscape with a few pines here and there and the mountains and ruins of the Steel Vigil in the distance. The air was cool and fresh, still cold enough that the warm sun couldn’t melt the snow. Instead the rays of sunshine made the scenery shine and sparkle as if everything was covered not in ice but in millions over millions of tiny diamonds.

“It is.”, he answered and smiled, surprised how beautiful this inhospitable landscape could be, before with a sudden spark of curiosity he finally asked. “Where are we going?”

“It’s not far anymore.”, Haurchefant said with a grin on his face and pointed into another direction. Shortly after and only a bit further ahead they reached a small lake.

As they got closer A‘viloh noticed that it not only was covered in a layer of snow and ice but also that quite a few off-duty soldiers, given the proximity to the camp he assumed they had to be, were standing right on top of the frozen lake. No, they were not quite standing. It looked more like they were dancing or flying maybe. More or less gracefully they moved over the lake‘s surface in fluid swift strides, some just moving in wide circles and other swirling around this way or that. A’viloh had never seen something like this and it looked strange and impossible but at the same time very beautiful to him.

The two of them had almost reached the lake by then, A’viloh a few steps ahead to get a better look at the wondrous people on the ice and he already wanted to ask how they did that, when his attention was drawn elsewhere by a curious squawking sound.

“Oh! Look at them!”, the Miqo’te exclaimed, his fascinated smile still turning a little brighter, as he gestured to a small flock of wild geese resting at the shore of the lake. With ruffled feathers they sat closely huddled together at the edge of the ice and suddenly A‘viloh couldn’t help but worry about them. They looked so unbothered by his presence, sleeping through the day and all the hubbub around them, looking all exhausted and frozen with their puffed up feathers. Like anything could happen to them and they wouldn’t even mind.

Strangely he wondered what he himself had looked like when Haurchefant had found him unconscious in the snow. He must have been a pitiful sight. Had the Elezen thought him beyond saving too, just like he himself had. What if he had found him a little later or not at all? Maybe that would have been better, a voice murmured to him just like it had so many times before and for a moment, tempted by the grief heavy on his heart once again, he almost believed it.

But no, he would be dead then and while he would have liked to imagine that this would mean he could be with his loved ones again, it was not exactly what either of the tribes he had lived with believed.

Vaguely he remembered his father working for hours, digging a grave at what used to be Wellwick Wood. An elderly woman too exhausted by their long journey, his grandmother if he remembered correctly, had died shortly after they had arrived there. With a sad smile on his face his father had explained to his children, who had stared down into the hole in the ground with confusion in their eyes, how by returning her body to the earth there could still grow new life from this death.

Or the drake tribe of the Sagolii Desert, who always burned their dead and left the ashes to be carried away by the desert wind, believing that it would make it easier for the deceased‘s aether to return to the Aetheric Sea and create something new elsewhere.

With a sudden sharp pain in his heart A’viloh realised that neither of the people he loved had gotten the burial they would have wanted for themselves. And neither had A‘viloh himself wanted to die in the coldness of Coerthas and be forever forgotten under a thick layer of snow and ice. He had thought about dying before but never had he been this close to it. For a second he wondered if this was something worth speaking to Rael about, but he wasn’t sure they wouldn’t misunderstand and get mad at him again.

“Why do you make such a sad face now?”, Haurchefant asked having noticed the smile slip from the Miqo’te’s face. But A’viloh just vehemently shook his head and focused on the geese again.

“They must be horribly cold.”, he wondered in a voice that suggested he already planned to take all of them to the safety of his comfortably warm room.

Haurchefant chuckled. “Don’t worry, they survived the storm out here after all. They keep each other warm, that’s why you‘ll rarely see one of them alone. A bit like you and your friends.”

“Maybe…”, A’viloh answered thinking about this comparison for a moment. “I just wish it wouldn’t always be me who needs to be taken care of. But as proven in Ul’dah and now once again I am simply too weak and useless to keep myself alive, not to mention anyone else.”

The Elezen’s face got a little stern as he folded his arms in front of his chest. “Don’t say that, I am sure it’s not true! This was just bad luck! You are neither weak nor useless!”

A’viloh shrugged. “But that’s how I feel right now...”

Slowly Haurchefant nodded before speaking again with a silent but determined voice. “Listen. I‘ll never forget how bravely you fought for Francel although you barely knew him. You could have gotten yourself in trouble with that and you helped him anyway.”

“It’s not like I did that on my own -”, A’viloh tried to protest but was immediately interrupted. “But you still helped! And I’m sure even without Rael you would have done so!”

Another shrug was all Haurchefant got in response, so the Elezen thought for a second before making an offer. “You want to make yourself useful, right? Get stronger? I could teach you how to fight like a real ishgardian knight, with sword and shield. Or we have some dragoons at Camp Dragonhead too! I’m sure there’s a lot you could learn from them.”

A‘viloh‘s face turned to disbelief. “I really don’t think I could fight with armor and weapons this heavy…”

“You can’t say so if you don’t try! And I have you know that dragoon armors are surprisingly light. How do you think they could still be this agile otherwise? Promise me to at least try training with them a little!”

He didn’t really want to agree to that. He knew he would make a fool of himself. But how could he say no with Haurchefant trying everything in his power to cheer him up. Weakly he shook his head and muttered: “Fine…”

“Perfect!”, Haurchefant exclaimed with a bright smile on his face. “I think an early reward for your efforts is appropriate then!”

Confused A’viloh watched him take a small bag off of his shoulders, which he hadn’t even noticed until now. For a moment the Elezen was busy undoing a knot before he opened the bag and presented to A‘viloh a set of two weirdly shaped blades attached to pieces of wood with leather straps. He had no idea what these constructs were meant to do and that was plainly visible on his face. “What’s that?”

“Ice skates of course!”, Haurchefant said as if that would explain it all but the Miqo’te‘s face remained clueless, so Haurchefant gestured to the lake behind them. “You attach them to your boots so you can walk on the ice like this!”

“Oh!”, A’viloh exclaimed as he understood what Haurchefant was planning. “I don’t think-… I mean I‘ve never-… You don’t really want me to step on that lake do you?” The idea somehow scared him.

“Why not?”, Haurchefant asked for the second time today with this smile that made the question sound like a challenge.

“It’s just a bit of ice!”, A‘vi objected. “What if it breaks?”

The Elezen shook his head and proceeded to fasten the metal blades beneath his boots. “Ah, don’t worry. The ice is thick enough, it will take at least a few more days to melt.”

“I don’t know…”, was all A’viloh replied as Haurchefant pressed another pair of skates into his hands. But the Elezen remained determined and took a few wobbly steps through the snow and onto the ice. “See! I can stand on it and it doesn’t break! You are a lot lighter than me, so why wouldn’t you be able to?”

Oh, you don’t know my bad luck!, A‘viloh thought but Haurchefant didn’t look like he would take that for an excuse. Instead he stretched out a hand towards the Miqo’te. “Come one! Believe me, this is going to be funny!”

For a second A‘viloh pondered his options. The idea of nothing but a little bit of ice between him and the water still terrified him but Haurchefant seemed so excited about this and the other people actually seemed to have fun too. Maybe he should at least pretend to try... Reluctantly he sat down on a rock and tried to put on the skates just like Haurchefant had done a moment ago.

“The clasp on the back too. Make sure none of them are loose… Yes, that looks fine!”, Haurchefant helpfully explained. As A’viloh got up, he almost flopped right back down into the snow. It was a weird feeling to balance his whole weight on only two thin pieces of metal. As he carefully took the first few steps towards the lake Haurchefant reached out for him once more. “Here! Take my hand! I don’t want you to fall…”

Hesitantly A‘vi stepped onto the ice and immediately felt like the ground was being pulled away beneath his feet. He struggled for balance, feeling himself falling backwards, so Haurchefants arm was a very welcome thing to hold on to.

With a chuckle the Elezen tried to loosen A‘vi‘s desperate grip on his arm and instead took each of his hand in one of his own before carefully making slow steps backwards pulling A‘viloh over the ice, which A’vi could swear was making suspicious crackling sounds below them. There was no way to tell the blades beneath his feet not to move, so all A’viloh could do was try not to fall and plead to Haurchefant with ears flat on his head and panic in his eyes, as he slowly was pulled further onto the lake. “No, no, no. Take me back, that’s a horrible idea!”

“Calm down. There’s nothing to be afraid of. I promise.”, Haurchefant said soothingly and continued to explain to him how to move on the ice skates. And in fact the Elezen’s calm voice slowly made A’viloh feel less anxious. His hands, frantically clasping at Haurchefant’s, relaxed along with his legs. It was still a weird feeling to be standing on the ice but now it felt a lot easier to remain balanced. He glanced at the people around them while remaining as still as possible, studied their movements for a moment and then tentatively tried to mimic the way they slowly pushed their feet above the slippery surface. To his surprise he really moved forward without much effort and also without feeling the sensation of falling again, closer to Haurchefant who had steadied him with his outstretched arms so far.

“See! It’s not that difficult.”, he said while making another step backwards so A’viloh had to follow with another step forward. The Miqo’te, strangely excited about the fact that he was actually moving on these weird ice-blades, laughed happily. “You are even going backwards!”

Haurchefants laughed. “One step after the other. Let’s teach you how to go forward first, hm? I‘ll let go off one of your hands but don’t worry, I still got you. One feet after the other just like you did before…”

In fact it almost felt easier now that he could use one of his arms to balance himself. Very slowly at first they floated above the icy surface of the lake but soon A‘viloh got braver. Once he almost lost his balance but for a comparably tall and strong person like Haurchefant it seemed like a very easy task to keep a small Miqo’te on his feet. Almost falling had felt like a shock for a second but only moments later they were laughing about it and in the end A’viloh was surprised and also a little proud how quickly he had learned and how much fun this was.

He wasn’t sure how much time they spent there on the frozen lake but at some point a bell sounded from the nearby Camp. Startled A’viloh looked up (and almost lost his balance again). “How late is it? I’m sure you have more important things to do than this! I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from doing your work.”

But Haurchefant just laughed and teased, “What could be more important than prove to you that not all of Coerthas is a deadly wasteland trying to kill you? But I think we really should return soon. I don’t want you to get cold again and after all we also don’t want Rael to find out about this little excursion, do we?”

For a second A’viloh wished the viera could see him now and wondered what their reaction would be like. The thought made him chuckle.

And as they floated, one last circle around the lake, A’viloh couldn’t help but wonder that maybe it was happy moments like this. The reason he was still here. Moments that made his life worth living.

---

inspired by the poem The Reversal by Leila Chatti

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

danny talking about how resentful she became when nobody who she self-sacrificed for cared when she died and then leaving kirsch with laura and carmilla bc "if he stays with me i might lose control again and kill him" kinda confirms my thoughts abt both newly-turnedness and anger making vampires more vampiry

but also makes me think that in more usual circumstances, when the dean turned vampires like carmilla and mattie, that shes really nice at the start to temper any of that unruly anger

[quietwingsinthesky]

im going to lay here and think about pond family cuddle piles until i fall asleep

[loafbud]

The first Splatoon game turned 8 yesterday!

[petorahs]

can we talk about the book of esoteric revelations quest sends us to fckn enkanomiya pocket space for some reason. what was that. i dont think the electro totems were placed indeliberately either helloooooooo

lore enthusiasts please do your thing..... how has no one talked about this yet

[edupunkn00b]

The Uses of Adversity, Ch. 9: Shoulder to Shoulder Around the Fire

Prev - Shoulder to Shoulder Around the Fire - Next - All - [ AO3 ]

WC: 3913 - Rated: T, mild cursing, past injuries briefly referenced

Logan closed the washer door and stabbed at the buttons on the front of the machine before the cycle clicked on and the basin slowly filled with soapy water. With a heavy groan, he leaned against the basement wall and closed his eyes. He’d woken up a half dozen times in the night, plagued by dreams and nightmares and dreams until the thin pink dawn stabbed through his blinds and he gave up on sleep and dragged himself out of bed. 

He’d stripped his bed and showered, then brought it all down to the laundry room. Eyes still closed, he worked through a breathing exercise he’d found online and scrabbled past the rocky ice filling his mind to find something, anything to be grateful for.

He was grateful it was Saturday. Grateful he didn’t have to plaster on a smile and rush into the day and off to work. Grateful he had time to get this done, grateful for the chance to wash another night down the drain. Grateful for the high capacity washer.

A screeching whine snapped open his eyes and he watched as the machine agitated one more time then stuttered to a stop, the lights on the front flashing an error code of F1E2.

“Fuck,” he muttered and pulled out his phone to look up the code. The manual had long ago been recycled, but the manufacturer was decent about keeping their documentation updated. Should that count as something to be grateful for? Sighing, he swore again as he scrolled down to the error. Not quite.

With some difficulty, he worked his way around to the back of the machine to reach the manual override and drained the machine while he waited for the service center to pick up. He was still the next caller after he’d dumped the sopping bedding into big blue Ikea bags and checked the hours of the laundromat he drove past each day on his way to the highway.

It turns out, it was the only laundromat within a ten mile radius.

He kept the call live as he loaded up the car with the wet laundry from the machine along with the load of lights that had already been waiting for him. It was a short drive and he was still on hold when he parked and the phone suddenly disconnected.

“Fuck,” he swore again and took a deep breath before he redialed. Unloading his frustration on some poorly paid customer service rep who was working on a Saturday was hardly the right choice. He took another slow breath and forced a smile onto his face before he dialed.

A different voice message picked up right away.

“Thank you for calling Maytag. We look forward to serving you. Our call center is open Monday through Friday, 9 am to 3 pm, and on Saturdays from 9 am to 12 pm,” Logan checked his watch. It was only 10 o’clock. The recording continued. “Eastern Standard Time.”

“Of course.” Logan sat frozen in the driver’s seat, staring down at the phone as the message repeated twice before disconnecting. He silently recited a new litany of things to be grateful for. There had been gas in the car. He had cash in his wallet for the machines. The laundromat was close. 

Sighing, he pocketed his phone and hauled the laundry and a tote bag full of soap, softener, and hangers for his shirts. In his first real brush of luck for the day, Logan was pleasantly surprised to see the laundromat wasn’t crowded, with the only other occupants an attendant at the back folding laundry that had been dropped off and a young couple over by the dryers.

Logan fought to keep his attention on the machines in front of him as he loaded them up and added soap to the dispensers. He hadn’t been to a laundromat in decades, not since college, but it appeared the machines were at least that old, so it didn’t take much to figure them out. A bright bubble of laughter drew his attention and he watched as the couple worked together to pull a giant comforter out of the dryer. The woman giggled when her partner piled the comforter on top of her head and shoulders, then pretended she’d disappeared. Logan’s heart ached at the softness in his eyes as he laughingly bumped into her, and the way his hands went up protectively, sweetly , ready to catch her in case he knocked her off balance.

He would never begrudge such a sweet couple their happiness, but… that couldn’t make it hurt any less to have it dangled in front of him. After a few more moments of miming looking for her in the dryer and under a counter, the man lifted up the comforter and exclaimed joyfully at the sight of his partner underneath. Tossing aside the blanket, neither seemed to notice or care when it slipped off the folding counter and onto the floor as he pulled her into a kiss, right there in the middle of the laundromat.

Logan looked away and fumbled for his wallet to go and make change for the machine.

His movement seemed to have reminded them they were in public and, still giggling and whispering, they picked up the comforter and worked together to fold it before tackling the rest of their laundry together. They made chores look like just one more chance to spend time together. He supposed that, for them, that’s all this was. Just another sunny Saturday morning, full of laughter and dryer sheets. And love.

After he’d fed the machines almost twenty dollars worth of quarters, he set a timer on his watch and went out to wait in the car for the cycle to finish. He hated himself for it, but he was relieved when, ten minutes later, the door to the laundromat burst open and they left, hand in hand. Logan put down the book he’d been trying to read and went inside to wait for the timer to go off.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Logan to distribute the clothes and bedding between three dryers. While he waited, he leaned against a folding counter and tried again to get through his book. The Four Agreements. If it had been anything other than a library book, he would’ve tossed the damn thing forty pages ago.

“Lo?” a sweet voice from his dreams pulled him away from the page and he looked up, near-certain he’d simply imagined it. 

“Roman?” Logan blinked. “H—how?” Roman smiled back at him, less than three feet away. Dressed in slim, bright white jeans and a crimson henley that hugged his chest like it’d been painted on, he could’ve just stepped off the cover of a magazine. Literally. One of his cover shoots in a Variety Logan had found in the periodicals section had featured a strikingly similar outfit. This… this couldn’t be real.

Logan brushed his fingers over the hot glass on the dryer door, hand jerking back at the searing heat. No, it wasn’t a dream. Roman was really here, smiling in front of him in the middle of the grimy laundromat. “Roman, what are you doing here?” he laughed as he stepped closer, a pleased smile pushing away his earlier dour thoughts.

“I recognized your car outside,” Roman shrugged, as though it was the most normal thing in the world for him to travel around this little suburban neighborhood. Pushing himself up, he sat on the counter next to him. “You weren’t in the salon next door, and,” he winked and bumped into his shoulder. “I figured if you were in the massage parlor at the corner I’d leave you in peace.”

“That’s some fine detective work there, Mr. Prince,” Logan laughed again, hoping the heat of the dryers disguised his blush at the kind of things that were rumored to transpire at a massage parlor that didn’t open until four in the afternoon. Logan nodded, “But how… How did you know it was my car? There are a lot of Pilots around here.”

“You live in Kirkland.” Roman rolled his eyes and jerked his head toward the parking lot. “You were parked between a monstrously large pickup with a ‘thin blue line’ flag and a minivan with a faded Trump sticker. There aren’t a lot of Human Rights Campaign decals around here.”

“It’s getting better, but… you’re right.” Logan frowned and opened the dryer when it buzzed. He felt the clothes, flipping them around and checking the heavy seams on his duvet. He closed the door and added three more quarters.

“What did make you move out here, anyway?” Roman waited until Logan returned to his side, grinning when he catapulted himself up into the counter next to him. “It’s so far from work.” 

Logan frowned, mouthing opening then closing as he worked out the best way to explain.

“Oh, fuck, I…” Roman shook his head, bumping his knee. “I didn’t mean to pry. That—”

“No, it’s quite alright,” he assured, bumping back. He tilted his head, watching the worry dissipate from Roman’s eyes. Logan smiled. It shouldn’t be alright, he didn’t like to talk about, well, any part of the divorce, but… it didn’t seem like Roman was asking because all he cared about was gathering sordid details or some juicy, gossip-worthy tidbit to squirrel away for a dull moment at a party. He… It just seemed like he cared.

“Patton wasn’t doing well in his neighborhood school,” he said at last. “They were unwilling to make even the most basic of accommodations. The Explorer school up on 6th was highly recommended.” He adjusted his glasses. “I… must admit, I used a bit of subterfuge to get the moving clause added to our parenting plan in the divorce decree. I added it at the same time I proposed a rather draconian vacation schedule.” He shrugged. “Her lawyer took the bait and called a special session to get me to update it.” He watched a yellow shirt tumble around in a sea of white oxfords. . “They never even noticed the other clause until after it had been signed. After it went into the plan, I found a place within the school’s boundaries and Remy and I moved here, with Virgil and Patton coming here every other week” 

Logan realized he’d been rambling and he looked up but Roman simply listened, that same soft smile pulling up one corner of his mouth higher than the other. “Was it hard…” Logan looked away, fingers twisting in his lap. “I mean, moving with three boys?”

“Oh…” The cold knot in his stomach eased and a slow smile spread across his face. “The stove malfunctioned on our first night all together and the furniture truck had gotten lost in Yakima. The boys and I ate pizza and Taco Bell for the first few nights… “ He glanced up at Roman, searching his eyes for boredom or, worse, judgement at his poor planning. Roman just nodded, smiling as he leaned in, listening. Logan smiled back. “We ate together on a plastic table cloth in the middle of the living room floor. Patton still talks about how great it had been.” 

He looked out at the bedding twisting in the dryer. “It’s not perfect. It’s a long commute and I’m responsible for coordinating extra-curricular transportation even when Patton is at Kelly’s place in Seattle, but… it’s a good place for Patton, despite the… au de MAGA. It’s worth it.”

“It sounds great,” Roman nodded, a wistfulness to his smile that Logan didn’t fully understand. “You know, the next time I’m negotiating a contract, I want you on my side,” he added. “That was brilliant.” Another dryer buzzed and, blushing, Logan leapt down from the counter. He fished around in the machine and nodded. Roman was at his side with a laundry cart.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling as he looked up at the hanging bar. “Perfect, in fact. How—”

Roman gestured to the shirt Logan had just pulled from the machine. “It’s best to hang them right away,” he explained. He grabbed one of the hangers sticking out from the canvas ACLU tote bag tucked under the counter where they’d been sitting. “May I help?” he asked, reaching tentatively for the shirt in Logan’s hands. “I spent three years as head of costume at the London Coliseum.”

“Thank you,” he said again, once more confounded by his answer. His hands moved automatically, shaking out a shirt as he watched Roman expertly flick then smooth the collar of the shirt he’d plucked from the dryer. Logan smiled as he reached for the next shirt, only looking away when Roman faced him again.

“Do you always come here?” He asked, hooking the first shirt on the rod, ready for the next. “You seem to have a solid routine.”

“Ah, no, actually,” he looked down, the morning’s frustrations churning in his stomach. Shaking it away, he pulled out another shirt. “I discovered this morning that our washer had broken overnight. The timing was… unfortunate. I’d fallen a bit behind and, well…” He looked out at the three dryers’ worth of laundry. The duvet bounced in its own dryer, the colorful paisley staring back at him.

“You’re a better man than I,” Roman chuckled, buttoning the top button of his favorite shirt before hanging it on the rod. “I would’ve moped for at least a day after that kind of morning.”

Logan glanced up as the happy couple hed watched, the reminder of his shameful jealously burning his cheeks. “Who says I didn’t mope?” he tried to laugh. Roman’s hand lingered when he reached for the next shirt, pinkie and ring fingers touching.

“You’re here,” he said simply, that soft, knowing smile curling up his lips.

“Yes, well,” Logan cleared his throat and looked away, hoping he hadn’t been staring as long as he feared he’d been. “So, you explained why you’re here in the laundromat,” he asked, eyes fixed on the last shirt from the dryer. “What are you doing slumming on the Eastside?”

Roman laughed, rich and resonant in the tiny laundromat. His whole body moved with it, curls bouncing around his face. “Your Costco is the least hectic I’ve seen around here,” he said around another laugh. “Once you get past the parking lot, that is.”

“You rented a car and drove all the way out here for the Costco?” Logan tilted his head, brow furrowed.

“That and the teriyaki place next door,” he chuckled, pulling the cart back so Logan could close the dryer door before moving to the next finished load. Logan laughed, shaking his head. “I’m serious! I’ll prove it to you!” He tapped the laundry cart and grinned. “When we’re done here, let me buy you lunch. You’ll see.”

Logan looked up at him over his shoulder and nodded before he pulled out the duvet, bundling it in his arms to keep it away from the dust bunnies on the dingy tiled floor. “Alright, Mr. Prince. Prove it to me.”

Bending over, Roman grabbed two corners of the duvet and stepped back, pulling gently to stretch the linen out flat before bringing his corners together. “You’re on, Mr. Sanders.”

~~~

“You have the neatest trunk I’ve ever seen,” Roman remarked as they loaded up the back of Logan’s Pilot with two baskets of clean clothes and bedding. He carefully laid the stack of cotton shirts over the top, crossing the arms loosely to prevent more creases. The carpeted trunk floor was pristine, a small travel vacuum neatly strapped in a side compartment the evidence of how a father of three managed to keep it looking so clean.

“Says the man who drives rentals all the time,” he chuckled, the sweet blush painting his cheeks. “Aren’t those detailed after each trip?”

“Exactly,” Roman laughed, stepped back while Logan lowered the hatch. With a chirp, he locked the doors and pocketed his keys. “Shall we?” Roman bowed, barely resisting an impulse to offer his arm. “I don’t know about you, but I find doing laundry always works up an appetite.”

“Lead the way, good sir,” Logan nodded, slipping inside when Roman held the door for him. Once inside, he reached for his wallet.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Roman winked at him. “Kirkland money doesn’t work in here.”

Laughing, Logan raised an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

“Mm-hm, absolutely against the rules,” Roman said with his most serious face. “It’s not allowed. Only Seattle money is allowed. You’ll have to put away your wallet, sir.” Logan continued to stare at him, an incredulous smile spread across his face. “It’s my treat,” Roman finally said, dropping his stern expression. “Please let me treat you?”

Blushing, Logan nodded and put away his wallet. A twinge shot through Roman’s heart when he wondered just how long it had been since someone had taken him to lunch. From the way he acted, Roman would guess… never. “What would you recommend?” Logan asked, looking up at the busy menu.

“Definitely the miso soup,” he said. “Oh, and the spicy teriyaki chicken. All sweet, all spice…” Roman bumped his shoulder. “You’ll like it.”

“I defer to your judgement,” he murmured with a little nod.

“Famous last words!” Roman laughed and stepped up to order. “Oh,” he turned back, serious again. “Allergies?”

“None,” he nodded.

Tapping his fingers together like an evil villain, he laughed, a little thrill running up from his toes when Logan laughed back. “Perfect.” Turning to the owner working the register, he smiled more genuinely. “こんにちは、お客様、” he bowed his head. “Two number threes with miso soup, please, and two pineapple bobas.” Roman laughed over his shoulder at Logan. “For the heat.”

“Just how afraid should I be?” Logan said unseriously, stepping closer. Even over the scents of spice and umami swirling in the air, Roman smelled the clean, warm scent of the lavender and vanilla softener he’d spotted in Logan’s bag. It was nice.

“Very, very afraid,” Roman grinned, bumping his shoulder. “Mr. Masao takes the ‘spicy’ part of spicy chicken very seriously,” he winked at the owner.

The man laughed, shaking his head. “あなたの彼氏はかわいいです,” he said, smiling toward Logan with one eyebrow raised. “But your pronunciation needs work, Mr. Prince.”

“Doesn’t it always?” he nodded, blushing when Logan laughed along good naturedly. “私の彼氏ではありません。” Logan stood so close and he hadn’t missed the way his eyes had lingered over his shirt and his jeans… Perhaps… “まだ。 多分？” Roman nodded at Logan, “Lo, this is Mr. Masao.” He bowed his head the way Roman had earlier, smiling. “Mr. Masao, this is my very good friend Logan Sanders.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sanders,” he said.

“The pleasure is mine, Mr. Masao,” Logan replied, eyebrows knit together in a sweet, perplexed expression. “You really do frequent here. How… How often do you make it out to Kirkland?”

Roman shrugged. “Whenever I come to Costco, really. Best place to restock the green room,” he grinned. “It was a bit of luck to get to see you today.”

“It helps that there’s only one coin-op laundromat on the Eastside,” Logan said dryly. 

Was it Roman’s eyes that said he’d blushed again? Or his heart? “I suppose, it does.”

~~~

“So what did you do then?” Logan laughed, leaning forward, lips parted as he waited for Roman to explain how they continued the showing of A Midsummer Night’s Dream .

“The crew got up into the box seats around the back,” he gestured behind his head.

“But you said it was a full house.” Logan’s eyes sparked, following the movement of his hands. “It must’ve gotten crowded in those seats.” 

“The stage manager was quite persuasive.” Roman shook his head, another laugh bubbling up. “Promising they could sit on the apron of the stage to watch the rest of the show helped.” Another soft bubble of laughter burst from him and Roman stared. His expression was so different than it had been when he’d first spotted him in that stuff laundromat. Roman was certain he could live off that smile. 

After a moment, he shook his head and continued. “Everybody turned on their phone flashlights and it was just enough to keep the fire marshall happy.”

Logan sat back, grinning as he took another sip of his boba. “The fairies’ blessing illuminated by flashlight.” Logan’s eyes danced over his face and he felt himself blushing, just barely resisting the impulse to dab at his mouth, checking for sauce. “That must’ve been something to behold. A throwback to the Globe.”

“Exactly! It was so much fun,” Roman nodded. “You know, I’ve been thinking about ways to incorporate more natural lighting in my shows.” Logan’s eyebrows jumped up, his eyes brightening to the same shade of the clear sky out the windows behind him.  

“That sounds fascinating,” he murmured after a long moment. “Will you tell me more?” He gently prompted, and Roman blushed, realizing he he’d been staring again.

“Mmm, yes,” he nodded, wrangling his runaway thoughts. “I’ve been in talks with Seattle Storybook to adapt A Midsummer Night’s Dream and Much Ado About Nothing for their summer theatre series.” Roman leaned forward. “They have an outdoor Amphitheatre just a block from the big fountain and the playground.” He circled  his plate  and with his utensils. “Theatre in the round, outdoors…” Roman dotted his fingers around the edges. “The littlest kids could sit in the grass around the stage or run around the top if they need to get the wiggles out.”

“Wow,” Logan whispered, mirroring Roman’s position. “I’ve been to that amphitheater with the boys…” He grinned up at Roman. “They wouldn’t believe it was meant for plays. They would race each other up and down the steps,” he laughed, a soft, joyous melody.“ Remy would always let Patton win and Virgil used to get so mad.”

“I can almost see it!” Roman laughed, nodding. Logan’s face shone, lips full and relaxed as they spread into a wide smile. He looked down at the makeshift model Roman had built, eyes lingering where Roman was tracing the ‘steps.’ “We’re looking to create some roles for children from the youth theatre program.” Those brilliant blue eyes jumped back up at him and Roman nearly forgot what he was going to say. “I—I’ll be directing, too.”

“Oh!” Logan suddenly exclaimed, reaching across the table and touching his hand. “You’ll get to work with kids again,” he grinned. Roman just nodded, words gone. Logan’s hand was strong, and warm. Each nail had been cut—or bit—to the quick and sported the faint matte sheen of an anti-nail biting varnish. His fingertips were calloused but the inside of his hand was extraordinarily smooth. His ring and middle finger bent out at awkward angles, the bone thickened in places. Like old fractures that hadn’t healed quite right. Roman gently squeezed his fingers, stroking the back with this thumb.

Logan yanked his hand back and Roman tamped down on the instinct to follow, to hold on. “I—I’m so sorry, did I hurt you?”

“No, of course not, I…” He looked down and laid his hand in his lap, hidden under the table. He didn’t finish his sentence.

After a moment, he took an awkward bite of his food. With his right hand. Logan kept his eyes lowered, and Roman struggled to speak. Finally, he blurted out, “You should come with me.” A flash of joy brightened Logan’s face and he looked up, blinking in surprise. Roman nodded, words falling out in a jumble before Logan could demure.

“It’ll be fun, we’ll get to see some of what they’re working on, maybe go backstage afterwards?” He nodded again, caught in Logan’s gaze. “If… if you’d like…” Roman licked his lips, hesitating for a moment before he just dove in. Maybe his brother was right. Can’t get what you don’t ask for. “Please say yes.”

Logan’s tiny smile was the sweetest Roman had seen yet. He nodded, eyes widening as though he’d surprised himself. “Y—yes,” he whispered. “Yes, I’d like that very much.”

~~~Translation for the bit in Japanese above

... Turning to the owner working the register, he smiled more genuinely. “Good afternoon, sir,” ... Mr. Masao laughed, shaking his head. “Your boyfriend is cute,” he said, smiling toward Logan with one eyebrow raised. “But your pronunciation needs work, Mr. Prince.” “Doesn’t it always?” he nodded, blushing when Logan laughed along good naturedly. “Not my boyfriend.” Logan stood so close and he hadn’t missed the way his eyes had lingered over his shirt and his jeans… Perhaps… “Not yet. Maybe?" Roman nodded at Logan, “Lo, this is Mr. Masao.” He bowed his head the way Roman had earlier, smiling. “Mr. Masao, this is my very good friend Logan Sanders.”

[the-carlos-cow-eyes]

I honestly sincerely apologize to the Echo shippers, ‘cause from what I've read? Y'all were done DIRTY

[lothrilzul]

Similarities between Thenasto (D:OS 2 custom character) and Anders (DA2)

Party healer

Had a charity clinic

Is hunted because of their powers

Is locked up for what they are and escapes

Thinks you’d be better off if you didn’t date him

Has the essence of a being that lived in the previous iteration of creation living in his soul that makes him do things he wouldn’t otherwise

Wants his kind to be free

Has a cat

Has a very stylish coat with feathers

Bisexual as hell

Speaking of hell, he’s been there and back again

Flirts a lot