#are they gonna scream devastating things to each other? are they gonna fall in the ground while holding each other in some sort of pain?

[siderains]

yay who is ready for a new round of cherik fighting nasty for what they believe while simultaneously yearning in a bit of grief for each other in the most brutal deadly scenarios ever??? :)

[brokenmenswhore]

Hey hey! I love your Aegon fics so much that I want to know if you would write a story where after your kid with Aegon passed away, he promised never to touch you again so you wouldn't have to endure bearing more of his kids and witnessing their death. But you yearn for your husband every night and will act dirty to make him touch you again. By acting dirty I mean doing sexy things to instigate him when he's alone with you.

of all the things in this life that i’m good at, being intentionally sexy is NOT one of them, so i’m hoping this isn’t awkward :) my biggest fear is that someone’s gonna not like what i write for their request i’m on my knees pls don’t hate me

all in | aegon ii targaryen

pairing: aegon targeryen x fem!reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a deceased child, smut (MDNI 18+)

────── ☾ ──────

It had been three long, dark, and lonely months since the death of your son.

He passed away at only a few weeks of age due to health complications, and both you and your husband, Aegon, were left devastated.

Aegon had a tendency to blame himself for anything negative in his life, his self hatred running through the depths of his soul. Your son was his heir, and he felt as if he lost a piece of himself, and blamed himself for the health issues your child was having. “It must be from me,” he would whisper to himself, almost incapable of accepting that some things he could not be faulted for.

When Grand Maester Orwyle proclaimed your son dead, Aegon broke. He was hysterical, unable to speak, the only sound from his lips was an occasional scream of anger and sadness. You grieved in private, the joy you felt from your son’s birth still so recent that your stomach was still not yet back to a normal state.

The first few weeks were hard on both of you, but you at least attempted to lean on each other. However, Aegon was difficult to console when he got in his own head. You were both laying awake in bed, comforting one another when your hand ran across his chest, toying with his shirt. As difficult as the week had been, you were desperate to feel close to your husband in some capacity other than sadness and grief.

Aegon sighed and moved your hand away, rolling over on his side and turning his back toward you. You stayed stagnant and stared at him for a moment. “Aegon?”

“We can’t.”

“I know this grief is still very new, but I-“

“We can’t, ever.”

You sat in disbelief. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes at his words. You were in need of comfort, as was Aegon, and his declaration frustrated you. “And why not?”

“I refuse to risk putting you through this again.”

You were speechless. You tried to think of something to say, a few small noises leaving your lips as you tried to begin a sentence, but to no avail.

Aegon could hear your attempts. “What you have been through these past few weeks- I cannot watch you bear another one of my children, only to endure the pain of losing them again. I have never seen you happier than the day our son was born, and now-“ Aegon’s voice trailed off, “It is not worth the risk.”

Tears of sadness and frustration were now freely falling, Aegon’s back still to you as you spoke, “you do not seriously intend for us to never be intimate again. For the rest of our lives, Aegon, I need you. I am all in. Are you not? Do you not need me as well?”

“I need to relieve you of this pain more,” he responded, “and there are more than enough whores in King’s Landing.”

Your breath hitched in your throat at his final comment. You couldn’t believe he said such a thing. You knew he was hurting, and oftentimes pushed you away when he was, and you decided to assume it was an intentionally harmful comment meant to do just that. You chose to believe that he didn’t really mean it, but you still wished he didn’t say it. You understood his pain, but that didn’t make it alright to take it out on you.

You didn’t dignify his comment with a response, you simply rolled out of bed, fighting to maintain your composure as you walked out of the room, slowly shutting the door behind you.

The next morning, you returned to your shared chambers to ready yourself for the day, and Aegon was already up and dressing.

“Where did you sleep?” he asked.

You untied your robe as you approached the outfit laid out for you by your handmaidens. Handmaidens stopped assisting you and Aegon without being called into the room, as per your marital request.

“Elsewhere,” you stated.

Aegon sighed. “That is not an answer.”

“Why should it matter to you? If you get lonely, you can simply bed your whores,” you spat, throwing his comment from last night back at him.

Aegon didn’t handle you being mad at him very well. He needed everyone to like him at all times, but he didn’t cherish anyone’s opinion of him as much as he did yours. Knowing you were upset with him killed him.

“Do not be upset with me,” he pleaded, standing behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh? I thought we were not to touch each other any longer?”

Aegon retracted his arms, moving directly next to you so he could catch your eyes. “I don’t want you to be upset,” he said.

“Then do not promise to deprive me of something you and I both want and need.”

“I cannot put you through this again. Do you not understand that? Whatever is going on within me, it passed something bad down to our child, and if we remain intimate I risk you falling pregnant with another child we will inevitably lose. As your husband, it is my duty to ensure you do not have to go through such a thing again.”

“It is out of your control, Aegon,” you said, your voice low as you held his face in your palms, “and it is not your fault.”

He held onto your wrists, but didn’t move your hands. “This decision is not meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” Aegon was set in his decision, which meant that there was no point in arguing with it right now. You did not have the energy.

────── ☾ ──────

The next several weeks were filled with longing, your heart and body yearning to be close to your husband, now that it had been three whole months since your son passed.

You didn’t press the subject with Aegon, allowing him room to breathe. It was difficult, and you found yourself needing him more and more the longer you went without him.

You knew that despite his decisions, you always had power over Aegon. He was completely enamored with you, and oftentimes changed his mind to match yours. When he made decisions you didn’t agree with, it took a hell of a lot of fighting to get him to falter, but it was not always impossible. This particular instance couldn’t be impossible- you couldn’t survive without him.

“We we supposed to depart last hour!” Aegon called out to you, waiting by the door with his guards for you, the hour getting later and later. House Dondarrion was hosting the Targaryen family for supper at Blackhaven as a gesture of appreciation for the King’s assistance in the Stormlands.

Your handmaidens tightened and tied the final strings of your corset. It was new, and made specifically for you, only this time, you made special requests. It was the standard green and gold, and still kept you covered, but less so than usual. The garment left your chest nearly exposed, just as you had planned.

“They must have forgotten your measurements, Your Grace, there is not nearly enough fabric,” one of your handmaidens spoke, fidgeting with the seam on your cleavage.

“It will do just fine, thank you very much,” you said, “we must be going.”

You were escorted to meet up with your husband, who couldn’t look away from you the moment you came into view.

“What the fuck is this?” he whispered the moment you were next to him.

“What ever do you mean?”

“Everyone here can see too much of you in that,” he continued.

You shrugged your shoulders, playing nonchalantly dumb. “They must have forgotten my measurements.”

You gazed up at him, and he could tell you were playing him. He knew you well enough to tell.

“What are you trying to do?”

You brushed your hair from your neck to behind your shoulder, making even more skin come into view. “Waiting to leave. We are already behind, are we not?”

You started to walk away, but Aegon grabbed your arm and pulled you back. “You can’t possibly think I’m going to let you leave in such a thing.”

“It is not your choice.”

Aegon knew that despite the roles placed on both of you from a very young age, he couldn’t control you if he tried.

Throughout supper, Aegon was on alert to the gazes of other gentlemen upon his wife. Many approached you two to offer their condolences for the loss of your son, making you tense up and your breathing quicken from stress, which only made your chest more obvious.

You could tell Aegon was bothered, but that’s what you wanted, so you made no effort to be modest.

“Rather lewd tonight,” Aemond said, standing behind your chair, greeting you for the first time all night, “don’t you think?”

“Perhaps,“ you responded, taking a sip from your cup.

Aemond leaned down next to your ear and whispered, “What’s he done then, hm?”

You giggled at the question, Aemond smiling as he stood tall and moved to greet the people next to you, ending your interaction. Aegon couldn’t hear what Aemond said, but Aemond being so close to you and whispering in your ear angered him.

“What did he say?” Aegon asked, unable to help the curiosity.

“Nothing of importance,” you said, remaining stoic.

Aegon’s nostrils flared as another member of House Dondarrion approached the table.

Aegon remained observant the entire night, a possessiveness consuming him as he intentionally stared at anyone who gawked at you, his gaze intimidating them into looking away.

When you returned to King’s Landing, you retreated to your shared chambers.

“It does not befit a queen to dress in such a vulgar way. I cannot fathom why you would do such a thing tonight,” Aegon said.

You poured two cups of wine as you replied, “you cannot fathom? Dear husband, I think you can. Take a guess as to why I may behave as such.”

You handed Aegon one of the cups, taking a sip from your own and intentionally tilting it too far upward, the red liquid spilling down your neck and onto your chest.

“Fuck, what a shame,” you spoke, placing the cup down and moving your hair behind your back.

Aegon watched you swipe a thumb over your bottom lip and suck the wine off of it.

“Stop it,” he warned.

“Stop what? You cannot expect me to just stand here covered in wine,” you quipped, “do you happen to have a cloth?”

Aegon retrieved an used cloth from the table next to you, holding it out to you, as if to say ‘here’s the cloth you absolutely knew was there and only made me grab to mess with me.’

“I can’t see my own neck,” you said, “help me?”

Aegon sighed in frustration, moving the cloth to clean your chin, then your neck, moving it lower and lower. He watched the muscles in your neck flex as you swallowed, and he didn’t even think about holding his actions back before his lips were on your neck, cleaning off the wine with his tongue.

Your mouth opened and a small sigh left your lips, the feeling of his mouth on you after so fucking long making you needier than usual.

Aegon moved down to your breasts, licking and kissing the top flesh of one of your breasts before jolting back and wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. “No.”

“Aegon-“

“Please, I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.”

Aegon dropped the cloth back onto the table and marched out of the room, leaving you worked up and your breasts coated in wine. You let out a disappointed huff as you called your handmaidens in to run you a bath, hoping it would help you relax.

The next morning, Aegon had council business to attend to all day, but he had made an unfortunate mistake when you first wed: he told you that you were always welcome in council meetings, and that he would cut out the tongue of anyone who tried to speak against your presence there.

You swung open the doors to the council room, all heads turning toward you as you walked over to your husband.

“What is it?” Aegon asked, sitting taller and taller the closer you got to him.

“You said I was always welcome in these meetings, Your Grace.”

You seldom ever called Aegon by his title, but you knew that doing so drove him crazy. You noticed him shift slightly in his chair.

“The current matter of discussion is rather important,” he said.

“I would hope so, you’ve been in here all day,” you said, gripping the back of Aegon’s chair and pulling it with all your might, a seated Aegon inching a tiny bit away from the table. You were giving it your all, but could only move the chair a small amount back.

“What are you doing?” he asked, as the rest of the council just watched the scene play out. They knew better than to question you in these meetings.

You then sat yourself directly on Aegon, adjusting yourself so that you were comfortable in his lap, but he could still see the table. You were acting immature, but that was the point.

“This is entirely inappropriate,” he whispered into your ear, evidently tense. He was genuinely annoyed at you for sitting on his lap in the middle of a council meeting, but you didn’t care.

“I thought that was something you liked about me?” you whispered back into his ear.

You made brief eye contact. Aegon didn’t want to embarrass you in front of the Lords at the table, so he maintained a whisper. “Get up.”

You smiled, making the council think you were not in an argument, but rather exchanging a few private sentences before returning to duty. You leaned your head back so you were in his ear again. “No.”

“Your Grace,” Lord Commander of the King’s Guard and Hand of the King, Criston Cole, interrupted, “forgive me, but this is rather urgent.”

“Right then,” Aegon said, turning his attention back to the meeting as you remained on his lap.

The men all began to speak of war strategy and politically advantageous pairings, Aegon’s arm instinctively finding its way around your waist to keep you in place.

Every few minutes, you shifted your positioning, intentionally grinding down on his cock. He gripped your waist to try to stop you every time, but it never worked.

When the meeting was finished, you hopped up and left the room before Aegon could catch you.

Later in the day, he caught you walking alone to the library, and he pulled you into an adjacent hallway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” he warned, “that little stunt you pulled during my council meeting? Never again.”

“I do not know to what you refer,” you said, slowly pulling up one side of your dress, revealing more and more of your thigh until your entire leg was exposed, giving you room to dip your fingers underneath your dress.

“What are you-“

“It seems as though I’ve forgotten to put on anything under this dress,” you said, looking up at Aegon through hooded eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” he said, watching your hand disappear fully underneath your dress.

“Would not have to, if only I found myself a husband to do it for me.”

“Don’t,” Aegon demanded, grabbing your wrist and stilling your hand.

“Please,” you pleaded, desperation in your eyes as Aegon looked at you, nearly breaking.

Instead, he dropped your wrist, walking away from you again and leaving you alone.

────── ☾ ──────

When Aegon entered your chambers that night, you were already bathing. You were resting your head against the cool metal of the bathtub, your knees visible over the water, your body partially covered by the weak bubbles on the water’s surface. You opened your eyes when you heard the door open, and Aegon approached you, pulling one of your handmaiden’s stools next to the tub and taking a seat.

“What is it, Aegon?” you asked, re-relaxing and closing your eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked, and you didn’t see it, but his eyes ran up and down the length of your body as he spoke.

“Bathing?” you answered, almost more of a question than an answer. What you were doing was blatantly obvious, so the question confused you slightly.

“If this is another one of your dirty tricks, it won’t work.”

You let out a deep breath. “It’s not, I really just wanted to relax.”

You opened your eyes, and Aegon cocked an eyebrow at you. “I’m serious, Aegon. I’ve tried enough, and it has not worked. I give up. That’s what you wanted, right?”

You meant it. You were tired of trying to work him up, instigate something, or be lustful, if it was never going to work. You were tired of throwing yourself at someone who clearly did not want you anymore.

Aegon didn’t respond, he just continued to watch you as you closed your eyes again, relaxing into the water. He could see most of your body beneath the surface of the clear liquid, the bubbles almost entirely dissipated.

You heard a small whisper of your name, but you kept your eyes closed, allowing yourself to continue winding down for the night.

Aegon reached out to run his hand over your knee, and the feeling made you jolt slightly, your eyes opening at the sudden contact. You gave Aegon a confused, somewhat concerned look.

“You would truly risk experiencing the tragedy of losing our son again?” he asked, his voice the smallest you’d ever heard it, “just to have me?”

You placed your hand on top of his. “What happened was out of our control. If the gods did not intend for him to be your heir, so be it. It cannot be a fault of our own. We did not bring it upon him, Aegon. We have no knowledge of what could happen given another heir, and this tragedy is not reason enough for me to give up on having children. I think it unfair of you to make such a drastic decision on my behalf. If you do not wish to be intimate with me because you yourself do not desire it, then so be it, but you do not get to make these decisions for me. I did not choose to be without your touch, Aegon, and it is unfair for you to choose it for me.”

It was the most you’d said at one time since your son died.

“I miss you,” you added.

A tear fell down Aegon’s cheek. “I never want to see you in pain again.”

“There is no guarantee you would. There is not even a guarantee I will fall pregnant again.”

Aegon knew you were right. He was making decisions for you, and he knew he had no right to, he was just so scared. He hated seeing what losing your first son did to you, and he thought he was doing right by you by not risking a pregnancy and then loss of another. He did not realize the damage he was doing.

He was lost in his thoughts, and you took his silence to mean that he was sticking to his word. “Please just let me rest, Aegon, I do not wish to rehash the same argument again.”

You fell back into your relaxed position, removing your hand from Aegon’s and resting both of your hands on either side of the metal tub.

Aegon only spoke a small whisper of your name again before moving his hand down your leg, sinking beneath the water. You maintained your position. He made it clear to you he did not want intimacy anymore, so why would he actually be doing something intimate?

You were caught by surprise when his hand reached between your legs and he ran a finger between your folds. You inhaled a sharp breath, your eyes remaining shut as the feeling was too good. Even if this stopped right now, you needed to make the most of the feeling while you had it.

Only, it didn’t stop. Aegon continued to feel you, circling his finger around your clit, causing your head to fall back even further as a soft whine left your lips. Aegon hadn’t heard the sweet sound of your whines and moans in ages, and one tiny noise from you made him completely forget why he ever vowed to keep himself away from you.

The water was sloshing slightly as Aegon moved his hand, inserting a finger into your hole as his thumb took residence on your clit, keeping the stimulation there as he began to push a finger in and out of you.

He watched you writhe in the water, your hips beginning to grind up into his hand. “A-Aegon,” you tried to catch his attention, but he was so consumed in you that he took it for a moan.

He leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours. “Say my name again.”

“A-Aegon, I was t-“

Aegon cut you off by kissing you, catching you off guard and making you squeal with surprise into the kiss. He began to move his hand faster and faster, the water nearly spilling out of the tub from the movement of his arm.

You moved to grab his wrist, and he pulled away from your mouth briefly to inspect your face and make sure you were alright.

“As much as I want you,” you breathed out, “I don’t want to do anything unless you do as well.”

Aegon didn’t verbally respond, as he often didn’t, but instead kissed you, hard. You held the back of his head, deepening the kiss as he added another finger into you, a moan escaping your throat into the kiss, only egging Aegon on more.

“Fuck,” you whimpered when Aegon pulled away.

He leaned down to kiss your neck, not caring at all about the water hitting the side of his face and drenching his hair.

You moaned and whined as his fingers fucked you at a violent pace, curling when they hit the sweet spot within you that had your breathing nearly stopping for moments at a time.

“Aegon, I’m-“

Aegon lifted his head so that he was looking directly at you. Your eyes squeezed shut as your climax hit you hard, Aegon removing his hand from you to grip either side of your face and kiss you as your orgasm washed over you, your juices mixing with the bath water.

Aegon softened the kiss as he felt your breathing calm down, only pulling away when your muscles released their tension beneath him.

“Thank you,” you sighed.

“Get out of this thing,” Aegon said, standing up and holding out both of his hands to you.

You placed your hands in his, allowing him to help pull you to a standing position. You shivered as the cool air hit your bare, wet skin. You stepped out of the bathtub, anchoring your balance on Aegon. When you stepped onto the ground, Aegon pulled your waist against him so quickly that you nearly fell over.

“If you’re all in, I’m all in,” he spoke.

You gave him a genuine smile. “I’m all in. Always have been.”

Aegon leaned down to kiss you again, backing your bodies up slightly so that you were standing directly next to the stool.

Aegon then became almost carnal, having been without you for so long that he was too impatient now to wait any longer.

Aegon pulled you away from him and spun your body around, pushing you down until you were bent over the stool he was sitting on mere moments ago.

He undid his breeches and pushed his clothing down, leaving his lower half exposed.

He held a hand out in front of your face. “Spit.”

You did as you were told, giving him the lubricant that he spread on the head of his cock as he lined himself up with your entrance. He began to push into you slowly for a moment, before slamming his entire length into you.

You cried out at the feeling. One of his hands gripped your waist while the other fisted into your hair, pulling your neck back as he fucked you from behind. He was snapping his hips from the first thrust on, the pressure causing your body, and subsequently the stool, to shift forward with each hit.

“F-fuck,“ you moaned, “I missed y-you, Y-our Grace.”

The title only made him more feral, his grip on your hips destined to bruise you as he slammed into you viciously. He growled and groaned behind you, subconsciously trying to make up for months of deprivation.

You came again, the feeling of your walls squeezing his cock like a vice pushing him over the edge, despite the sex not lasting long at all. His body was in desperate need of you.

He bottomed out inside of you as he came, spilling his seed within you as he calmed down for a moment before pulling out of you.

He released his grip on your hair, allowing you to push yourself up. You nearly lost your balance, but Aegon caught your waist with his arm.

“I missed you too,” Aegon spoke, “what a fucking idiot I am.”

“Yeah, but that’s not new,” you teased, giving him a sweet kiss to show your forgiveness.

[moonlight-starlight-lady01]

How...how are you alive?

Kenji sato x Fem! [Different demention] Reader.

☆♡☆♡☆

SUMMARY:Ken had a lover named Y/n, but she had passed away. He was devastated from that. Then 2 years later his mother was declared dead. So he took the opportunity to move to japan and restart his career in his home country. But then something strange happened. There was a exact copy of his lover in his living room. Except she wasnt his y/n. She was different.....from a different demention.

[A/n:Im gonna try and make this into like a series i guess lol]

(Warning: sexual tension, angst, confusion, crying, my cutie ken sad basically the whole story. Y/n has brown eyes & brown hair[ya know bc shes from a different demention]<tell me if i missed any>)

Pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5.

♡♡♡♡

It was different. Sad. Not like what he had thought his life would feel like. Y/n had died 2 years ago because of cancer. He remembers her blue eyes sparkling like the ocean when the sun began to rise from the night sky. Her blonde hair swaying in the wind perfectly all fluffy and soft. Her plumped lips smiling showing her pearly white teeth. Her dress would be thigh length and sway in the wind so majestically. Her sweet voice would say the most beautiful things when she spoke. But then....her eyes became dried cracked wholes in her head. Her hair began to fall out and become like straw. Her smile started to turn into a signature line. Her voice started to sound ruff and hard. But one thing never changed. How much she loved Kenji. Everytime she saw him walk into her hospital room with the signature red roses and smiling happy to see her fiancé. But then it all ended with that one last beep on the monitor. After that he didnt want to find love ever again. It hurt to much. The sound of her laughter when they would cuddle and tickle each other. Or when they would wake up with each other in bed and stay there all day. It wouldn't be the same.

Then 2 years after that his mom was declared dead. Something snapped in him. He moved to japan to restart his career and forget about everything that wanted to make him cry all day.

So now he was on his way to play basbell. The Giants. Fight as Ultra man. And restart. But how he had asked to please make the pain stop to anything that could have the power to. Anything.

.

.

.

That was until he woke up to a crashing in his living room and a female screaming.

He had grabbed his baseball bat and tip toed to the sound. It was a girl. A women. She turned around and looked at him scared.

.

.

.

It was Y/n.

But it wasn't her exactly....She has brown hair and brown eyes. Probably taller than her and more plump in some areas...*ahem*.

"(Y/n?)"

She looked even more confused. "Uh, yes" she said uncertain. "Who are you and why the fuck am i here?"

He was in shock. Why was there someone that looked like his y/n but so so different. Plus his y/n never cussed. The only bad word he ever heard her say was crap. And she said fuck like shes used to saying it.

"W-Wait, you dont know me?" Kenji asked confused. He waited for her answer. ".....nooo?"

Fuck. What the fuck. How is this possible.

But, after some time. He learned that Y/n was 22 and was living in California. She worked at a cafe and book store to make ends meat. She was the complete opposite to what y/n was like. She didn't even have the same color at all like her. Brown hair, brown eyes, playful/sassy attitude and less innocent.

"Well, can you help me get to my home demention because like ya know, im not suppose to be in this one?"

Damn. She's right. She has to go home sometime. He looks at her thinking.

"Plus, everytime you look at me your litterely burning holes into my ass and tits"

Yep she definitely not his Y/n. How will this go now. His life is already a mess to began with...

♡♡♡♡

[alchemistc]

Catie's Big Ass bucktommy fic rec (Part One)

So I'm not gonna lie, I have most of these fics priv. bookmarked because I HAVEN'T COMMENTED ON THEM YET AND I FEEL REALLY GUILTY ABOUT THAT. But more than one anon has asked for this and it tickles me pink that y'all like my writing enough to trust in my recs. So. Please, please, be better than I am and make sure to kudos and comment if you enjoy any of these works.

(Guys, there are SO MANY amazing writers in this fandom. So many truly breathtaking fics already. I got two hours into this and realized I was going to need to split this into parts because I have too many things to say about each of these and I want to do them all justice.)

Writers you can trust in:

@rcmclachlan /ao3 : I will sing RC's praises to the moon and back. There is something about the way RC injects humor into the tiniest of lines that makes me want to scream into a pillow until I pass out. You will see more than one of RC's fics in this list.

@kirkaut /ao3: kirkaut is the reason I jumped on this bandwagon. The unhinged spiral into LFJr obsession and the prevalence of well thought out meta and incredibly hot fic drew me in. If you are not following kirkaut, change that now.

@26-cats-in-a-trenchcoat / catfud_ohplease on ao3: Devastating prose. The ability to turn a theme on a dime and STAB YOU IN THE HEART with it. Mac owns my whole soul when it comes to really scratching that itch behind my eyelids for thematic imagery and really creative ideas for fic that aren't just run-of-the-mill smut/angst/fluff.

@devirnis / ao3: Ali only has one bucktommy fic up on ao3 but it is devine and I love it. Ali is also the only writer who has tempted me into reading buddie. This is not an indictment on buddie fandom or buddie fic writers in general, I just tend to be a one ship kinda gal and I don't really dive into fic for a ship I don't vibe with. Ali's writing has made me reconsider this position.

@beefcakekinard / thingbe on ao3: The domesticity. Literally just reread one of Rose's fics this morning and HAD to comment on it again because it made me want to fling myself to Jupiter.

(This is not a comprehensive list, but I just realized how many fics I have already bookmarked for bucktommy and I'm already under a readmore.)

Fics that make my brain go brrrr:

only fools rush in - somnum365 ( @firehose118)

Tommy lets Buck set the pace. Buck is ready for something.

Super hot and all about checking in. I've got a thing for discovering sex with a partner starting out with frottage and this delivers. The characterizations are so great.

Colin Firth Thinks You're Hot - IDontGoHereEither (@herrmannhalsteadproduction)

Buck is late for a special date night with Tommy, but he still stops to help a stranger stuck on the side of the road. Luckily, that stranger is about to help HIM.

Cute as fuck with a super fun guest star. Who doesn't want Mr. Darcy to think your boyfriend is hot?

sad girl poetic thursday night - screamlet

Date night menu: pasta primavera and emotional unpacking.

There's something about the pacing of this that sent me into a tailspin. The stream of consciousness that actually bleeds from the dialogue into the action and vice versa. Hng.

I Was Only Falling In Love - Princessfbi (@princessfbi)

Tommy in crisis mode.

There's a moment in this fic where Eddie has to pull Tommy back from the precipice of something and it lives entirely rent free in my head, forever and ever amen. The firefam taking care of Buck by taking care of Tommy.

let me count the ways - ashesandhalefire

Buck and Tommy in the aftermath of a good evening are chattier than they probably reasonably should be

There is something about this fic that feels like the witching hour is upon you, like you could live in this little pocket world Buck and Tommy have created for themselves forever. The dialogue is fantastic, and the way they communicate with each other is just *chefs kiss*

let's make it cinematic - kirkaut

Tommy helps Buck deal with some of his impotent rage in the face of the Gerrard of it all.

Listen, I do not have a praise kink. This kinda makes me wish I did.

"[...]Everything is.” He circles a finger around in the air. “It’s very spinny.” - this line of dialogue came for my fucking throat.

Sick with it - Mellow_Yellow

what if in an alternate universe babyslut Buck joined the 118 when Tommy was still in his closeted asshole era and they had a torrid affair??

The way this is a little fucked up. The way the characterizations aren't exactly familiar because they haven't aged into what we know them as in current canon. The way you can see in every broken line and every stutter step that Tommy is falling for Evan and has No Fucking Idea what to do with that. Ugh. Best Met Earlier AU I've ever read.

He blinked as Tommy walked by, eyes sliding closed again before he left. He felt a light touch on the top of his head but figured he was imagining it. He couldn’t think of anyone at the 118 who would touch him that carefully. - just absolutely fucking end me they're so good/bad for each other

A Full Body Workout - Persiflager

Tommy and Buck spend a day trying to distract Eddie from the *gestures vaguely* all of it.

The way this is so quiet in the way it shows you how Tommy and Buck care for each other. The way they are down bad but still so hyperaware of the pace they've set, the things they've talked about. The way they take care of their friend here. I'm obsessed with the tone of this one. Also, as a general theme, nothing draws me in more than well thought out dialogue, and this one has some fucking GREAT dialogue.

Your love is better than ice cream - Cecily_v, liminalmemories

An alternative meet-cute, where-in Tommy doesn’t know the 118 and decides Buck is worth it anyway. Buck is confused but figures some things out.

There is so much I love about this AU. How they meet. How their relationship progresses. How it feels glacially slow in comparison to the canon storyline but also how in character they both are. The foundation of their love in this fic is downright eatable.

just couldn't fall til we met - thingbe (@beefcakekinard)

Buck and Tommy spend a quiet morning in together.

This is the one that crossed my dash earlier today and made me eat fucking glass on reread. The closeness. The way they're both so tactile. The blink and you'll miss it hints at a life being built together. Eating this UP every time I read it.

The Premium Twunk Appreciation Society, President: Tommy Kinard - everythingremainsconnected

5 times Tommy almost faints like a Victorian maiden at the sight of Buck’s flesh, and 1 time he can do something about it.

“Hey,” Evan said, shoving Eddie out of the way and filling the screen with his playful glare, “organise bro time on your own time, I’m on the phone with– with Tommy.”

“With who?” Eddie repeated. Tommy didn’t need to see his face to hear the fondness in the mocking. “Who’s on the phone? I didn’t quite catch that.”

- They are so stupid about each other in this fic, please read it and watch steam blow out your ears at how sweet and hot and down bad for each other they are.

desire (i want to turn into you) - chthonicheart

The first time Buck’s really able to bury his face between a man’s tits, he nearly cries.

pwp but with a whole heaping of character study. HOT.

rule four (you were only waiting for this moment to arise) - middyblue (daisyblaine) [@middyblue]

Tommy has doubts.

There is a general mood to this piece that feels heavy in a way I can't quite explain. There was a weight on my chest all the way through this in the BEST way possible. The way Tommy navigates his mind and struggles to trust the little slice of peace he and Buck have carved out is just mindbogglingly beautiful.

Come Fly The Friendly Skies - RC_McLachlan (@rcmclachlan)

Buck meets their rescue mission's would-be pilot and is extremely normal about it.

"Throttling is what I'm gonna do to you if you don't shut up and let the nice man steal a helicopter for us,"

WHEN I TELL YOU I AM INCANDESCENT WITH RAGE over how funny and insightful this fic is.

Every characterization is picture perfect.

Maddie gives great hugs, but she's so small; if she had this guy's build and could basically fold Buck into her like an old blanket, they'd have to pry him out of her arms with the jaws of life.

In the back of Buck's mind, in a place he hasn't discovered, he's already picked out a venue and chosen his centerpieces. He's mentally putting together seating arrangements. This line of Buck's thoughts on Tommy Kinard told me so.

Please read this and join me in trying to destroy RC with my mind (lovingly).

little by little - MediaWhore

Buck & Tommy, during and after the wedding.

There is something so soft and gentle about this fic. The way Tommy just gives in to the exhaustion and props himself up against Buck because he knows he'll be able to take the weight (he wants to take the weight and Tommy knows it). The quiet flirting, the way they take care of one another. The jumpscare of Marge and Phil and how this fic is right at the edges of exploring that but Buck has me important priorities.

“It was badly done,” - the way this is so in character for Ma Buckley and the way it made me want to SHAKE HER TIL HER TENDONS SHATTERED AND SHE CRUMBLED LIKE A SATISFYING CASINO IMPLOSION

Soft and heartbreaking and mending all at once.

while you arranged flowers - newtkelly

Buck’s got a wedding date, but as far as today goes, he’s also got a regular one.

The way I want to wrap this Buck up tenderly and hide him from the people in his life who DON'T DESERVE HIS AFFECTION, HIS LOVE, HIS JOY.

The non-urgency of this, the absolute too-much-too-soon he's dealing with in his own mind while he grapples with the reality of seizing a second chance with both hands and getting to explore himself within the confines of a very lovely, very sweet and kind, VERY HOT man he wants to get on his knees for.

Beautiful prose, excellent dialogue, an insightful character study.

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Can we have creator wanting to die thing you wrote but with Xiao or venti? İ love my anemo boys. Could be a tic, or if you're lasy just write it as what you think would happen i would appriciate both if you could 🫶

Oooo!! There's an idea! Actually these two would be very interesting to write for me.

-

Venti actually in my head is most likely one of the first to find out about the creator. I've already wrote how it happened in my first oneshot for this so you can scroll my profile for it. But! It's how he acts after that really gets my brain screaming. He would be such a depressed mess, absolutely devastated with himself for harming the divine. Seeing their body turn to ash while smiling had definitely messed him up a bit.

If he finds them again then all hell breaks loose, cause he is definitely gonna try and lock them in a safe place. Though that isn't really successful since creator being so mentally broken can and will find a way to experience another death. Though they can say goodbye to falling from high places as a method cause now the winds of Teyvat just refuse to let them end up as a splatter of muscle and blood, it's especially annoying in trying to push them to safety because of Venti's active paranoia over them.

He also would be helping Nahida in spreading the word to the other archons about the situation, though he very much will take the blame for being one of the first to harm them when they first arrived.

-

Xiao? Oh god Xiao has had enough trauma this is so painful dhskdjf. Because while Xiao I can see as more of a casual follower kind of, the fact that Morax would be such a big worshipper is probably the reason why Xiao would be protective of the Primordial Mother's honor.

It's why he would have the highest kill count, both to dispell any opportunity for Morax to get angry and to uphold the creator's honorable visage.

Which is why if I feel like the more he encounters the broken creator, who is constantly seeking for a more entertaining death, the more likely he becomes...almost worried? Like he would mainly think it's just another lunatic that is super obsessed with the creator that they physically changed their image to look like them as a way to feel closer, but as time went on and each one talks about the previous' death. He would definitely become suspicious.

Normally how I think about why no one found out right away from their first time killing the creator is because it's a common thing to not look at the body of an "imposter" or "heretic" as they die, solely because seeing them in such a state while having the Primordial Mother's face would be a disgrace to them. So they typically wait until the body is gone, and by then the golden blood has disappeared.

This is how Xiao would find out, he would directly look at them as they died before him to fully understand. And upon seeing that golden does the reality of the situation hit him harder than any karmic debt pain he's felt. All those countless deaths, all those bodies that piled up from him. It was the same god, the same creator who the entirety of Teyvat loved.

It's definitely going to eat at him, practically devour his mind and almost shatter his mental state. But instead of fully breaking down, he runs to Morax, the adeptus, anyone he can think of to try to rectify the mistakes he and the others of Liyue have made.

When the creator is put into a safe place by the time the entirety of Teyvat knows, he's the first to volunteer as a guard. To make up for not protecting them like he should've from the beginning. Though this isn't gonna be good for either's mental health since the creator would just beg him to kill them, and him begging them to not say such things and to please forgive him.

[badaziraphaletakes]

I have some questions

Hi... Aziraphale had no way of going to hell in search of Crowley??????

Oh wait that's not a question, that's a statement. Lol nvmind.

And how would Azi even get him back out? Stop blaming her for what the heaven/hell apparatus is doing to Crowley and to her. (Y'know what, I'm gonna be referring to Azi as "she/her" in this post, because we all deserve more of that. So deal with it.) Do you think she hasn't been racking her brains trying to think of a way to save Crowley ever since the Fall, and even before that?

Also - If Aziraphale went to hell and got stuck there, she'd probably be forced to torture people and that's not cool. (She probably wouldn't get a job on earth like Crowley.) Whereas there is no evidence whatsoever that Aziraphale has to actively do harm as part of her current role on earth. There are very good reasons Crowley doesn't want her to go to hell / become a demon / whatever. He doesn't want Aziraphale to suffer the same moral injury that he has.

Also also - Aziraphale mouths "Crowley" instead of screaming it because she knows it'll only get them both in more trouble if heaven/hell finds out they have an acquaintanceship, let alone that they care about each other. As an ab*se survivor, it's one of the most painful moments in the series for me, seeing Aziraphale distraught and having to hide it.

Azi mouthing "Crowley" while frantically trying to keep a straight face is the equivalent of Charles immediately trying to run after Edwin. It's arguably even more loving, I'd say. Aziraphale loves Crowley so much that she saw her worst nightmare come true (or rather, didn't see it? you know what I mean lol) and still managed to keep her "We don't know each other" mask more or less intact. Utterly devastating. This was the ultimate test of her love for Crowley, and she passed it.

*** Side note: If Aziraphale behaved the way fans want to demand she behave, hell would have killed Crowley so many times already lmao. And then of course the fans would be blaming her for that instead. << Babygirl can't win. She's damned (ha) if she does and damned if she doesn't. ***

You can see the horror and terror and devastation in her eyes.

Here's a really good post about it:

But even if we didn't have that glimpse of her face at that moment... FUCK thinking Aziraphale wasn't worried about Crowley then. There is literally NO reason to assume she wasn't upset about seeing him dragged to hell to presumably be killed. (And yes, Azi knew hell was ab*sive and violent to Crowley, even back then. I'd argue she's known since NLT Uz. After all, she knows Crowley didn't "kill" the goats and the kids because he wanted to. She knows it was because hell made him do it.)

Also also also: She literally did go to hell to save Crowley, later on?

And wtf is wrong with what she wrote in her diary? "That was the last I was to see of Crowley for some time" is (so far as we know) a factual statement. She's writing about an upsetting experience. Journaling is a healthy coping technique. But apparently that's bad now lmao. (Not to mention there were so many things about that diary entry that were so blatantly weird that it's clear we can't take anything about Aziraphale's journals at face value anyway. But I guess we're just ignoring that.)

OH AND ONE MORE THING! That's "husband" or "wife" or "spouse" to you, not "friend"!

[girlylukehughes]

Casual ~ Luke Hughes

Description: Luke thinks things are casual between him and y/n… she doesn't feel that way anymore.  Warnings: angst, unresolved ending, smut, p in v(protected), oral(f receiving), mixed signals, asshole! Luke, anxiety attack/symptoms mentioned, naive reader(i think??) 

authors note: i’ve never written smut before this so bear with me okay

(flashbacks in italics)

When you agreed to be friends with benefits with Luke 6 months ago you never thought the argument you were having right now would happen. On opposite sides of his room in the sophomore house, his head in his hands as he sits on his blue comforter, you basically burning a hole into the carpet with your pacing. This whole argument started when you overheard the conversation he was having with Ethan and Mark outside of Yost. 

“So you and y/n have been together for a while now huh?” Mark said to Luke.

 “Yeah it's been like 6 months now bro, when are you finally gonna post her on  your insta?” 

Luke let out a chuckle, “Never gonna happen.” Mark and Ethan turn to each other, confused, “what do you mean Luke? Is this like a Hughes thing and you don’t want her to get hate?” 

“Mark, I could truly care less. She’s just a girl I bang on our couch sometimes. We're not together. Not gonna ever happen.” You can feel the tears welling in your eyes, throat burning. Over Luke’s tall shoulder Ethan spots you, mouth in a frown, a single tear slipping down your cheek.

 “Bro…” He whispers quietly, his tone full of sympathy and worry. He nods his head behind Luke causing him to look back at you. You stand there roughly rubbing that tear off your cheek so he can't see it, but he already saw, he felt nothing about it though.

 “Y/n,” he sighed out, you cut him off with a sniffle, “You know I thought you thought of me better than that but I guess I’m just the girl you occasionally fuck. Only good enough to keep your dick wet when you got tired of fucking anything in a skirt.” The tears are freely falling now, Ethan and Mark behind Luke look devastated for you, Luke himself just looks pissed.

 “Y/n we agreed that there were no attachments. You can’t get all upset when you’re the one who broke that. We said if we catch feelings it will stop.”

 “Then it never should have started Luke!” you screamed at him. His face turned to one of shock before going back to its pissed off scowl. 

“We're not doing this here. Get in the car, we're going home.” Luke starts walking towards his car, looking back once he realizes you're not following.

 “Luke, I'm not doing this. I’m done freely following every word you say, I'm not gonna follow you like a lost little puppy.”

 “Y/n please just get in the car so we can talk. I'll let you have the floor, you can talk. I'll listen please.” You sigh, following him to the car. The drive over to the sophomore house takes less than five minutes. The quietest five minutes of your lives. This leaves you where you are now. 

“Are you gonna say something or what?” Luke says, his voice muffled by the hands over his face. 

“You know Luke, you said this was “Casual” but what's casual about you, a week ago, your head between my thighs while you ate me out in the front seat of your car while you whispered things like ‘i love you’ and ‘you’re the only girl for me’? What is casual about that?” Your voice raises with each question. Luke looks up from his hands, his face twisted with confusion and regret. “Y/n/n-”  “No,” you cut him off, “It's my turn to talk. That's what you wanted right? You said I got the floor. So now it's your turn to shut up and listen. How was it casual when two weeks after this started your mom came up to me talking about how much you ‘talk about me’ and then she  invited me to the lake house this summer? Was it casual when Jack called me mid anxiety attack because he felt like his chest was caving in and I had to talk him through it?” You make your way over to his dresser opening the top drawer, “What's casual about me keeping my favorite clothes here because YOU asked me to? My favorite bra literally lives in your dresser Luke. You know I try to be the cool, chill girl but you know what I can’t fake it anymore! I’m not that girl! I have feelings, I care!” 

“Why didn’t you fucking say something then!” He finally shouts, “You didn’t have to leave your shit here if you didn’t want to! You didn’t have to deal with Jack, he’s not your fucking responsibility!” 

“But I fucking wanted to! Jesus Luke! I was delusional enough to think that you actually liked me! I had this stupid idea in my head that when you went to Jersey you’d ask me to go with you! That next year it would just be me and you! We’d have an apartment and you’d finally show me off to your friends! But no, I’m just dumb and in love with an asshole.” You sigh, sliding your back down the door, sitting on the floor with your knees to your chest. 

“You’re in love with me?” he whispers out. “Why?” 

“It was that dinner with your parents last month. That did it for me.” 

“Hey, are you almost ready?” Luke asks as he walks up behind you in the mirror, his hands on your waist. 

“Yeah, I just need to put my earrings in and we can go.” Smiling at Luke in the mirror, his face goes to your neck and he lightly sucks on the pulse point a small whine coming from your mouth. “Luke stop, I can’t show up to dinner with your parents with a giant hickey on my neck.” 

“Fine,” he huffs out. 

The drive to the restaurant is about 45 minutes of his hand inching further and further up your thigh, at one point teasing the edge of your panties before moving back down. Knowing you’re all worked up, Luke smirks at you before parking the car and getting out to open your door. Holding hands the whole way to the table you greet his parents with hugs and take a seat across from Ellen, Luke next to you and across from Jim. Halfway through dinner, Luke’s middle finger makes contact with your clit through your panties. Crossing your legs and trapping his hand, you lightly shift your body for more contact, that's when the idea sparks in his head. “Hey while we wait for dessert to come out I'm gonna go show her the tulip garden outside, they’re her favorite” Luke smiles at his parents. 

“Alright hun just don't take too long, wouldn’t want your dad to eat all the dessert,” Ellen jokes. 

“We’ll be quick, promise” You smile at her. Luke helps you out of your chair before taking your hand and leading you towards the back door. Once his parents are no longer watching he pulls you down the side hallway and into the bathroom, trapping you between him and the sink. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb before kissing you long and hard. Your body sinks into him, deepening the kiss. 

“Need you Luke,” you say looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your hands fumble with his belt as his hands work your dress over your hips, and sliding your panties down. His strong fingers find your clit again, rubbing in painfully slow circles on the bundle of nerves before slipping them further back and into you. A sigh leaving your mouth mixes with the groan leaving his as you palm him through his boxers. Pulling away before he slides his pants down and grabbing the condom out of his back pocket, you unbutton his shirt, raking your fingers up and down his toned stomach.

“Please Luke,” you whine, rushing him to put the condom on as you slide the straps of your dress down exposing your chest. In two seconds flat he's lifting you onto the counter and sliding his hard cock into you, hushed moans leaving both of you before he reattaches his mouth to yours before pumping into you harder and faster. 

“Love this pussy,” he whispers against your lips. “Love these lips too.” Your brain fogs over at the words leaving his mouth. Love.  He’s never said that before. Usually it's just possessive things like “this is mine” and “no one else gets you like this”. Love meant something else to you. Angling your hips, he hits that soft spongy spot in you and you’re seeing stars and your orgasm hits you hard, clinging to him tight. The feeling of you squeezing around him tips him over the edge. Luke waits a minute before pulling out and throwing the condom in the trash before wetting a paper towel and cleaning up between your thighs. Instead of giving you your panties he slips them into his back pocket before saying with a smirk, “You can have them back later if you're a good girl.” Straightening out your dress and  turning around to face the mirror you get a sense of deja vu as the scene from two hours earlier repeats itself with Luke kissing up your neck from behind until he reaches your lips. Pulling away a minute later he helps flatten out your hair as you fix his curls. Making your way back to the table hand in hand before digging into the dessert that arrived long ago. 

“Y/n, that was just a bathroom fuck. Why are you being so bitter about it?” Luke scoffs. 

“Luke I fucked you in a restaurant bathroom, while your parents were sitting at a table waiting for us and you wonder why I’m bitter? God you’re more dense than I thought. You know what? Just go back to bragging to your friends about fucking me and having me sit there and look stupid while you clearly don’t give a fuck about me for more than my body and what you get from it.” You open his bedroom door, making your way down the stairs with him following you. 

“Y/n, baby don’t leave, come on we can fix this.” 

“No.” you whisper, before finally looking into his eyes. Eyes that are now filled with a shine of tears and regret. “I hate that I let this drag on for as long as I did. I fucking hate myself for it.”

“Y/n please-” cutting him off, looking straight into his eyes, “Go to hell Luke.” Slamming the front door and walking home, the heavy weight on your chest gone.

[ahhnini]

So Close, But So Far - Finnick Odair x Hunger Games victor! Reader

synopsis: reader is hijacked by the Capitol amidst the second rebellion, afab! reader

warnings: angst, TW: sex traffic mention (from Finnick), contains violence, 18+

as a reminder, my ask box is open, please feel free to request prompts for fics!

If you like the story, please reblog! I appreciate it! :)

word count: 1,615

You don't remember anything. You don't remember who you were. All you know is one person, Finnick Odair. You remember the Capitol showing photos of you two, photos of a wedding you two had, photos of him kissing you. But, there were also photos of him attempting to hurt you, to kill you. Why would he do that? You don't attempt to kill people you love, right? The doctor from the Capitol said that he was a killer. You couldn't believe it, how could you fall in love with a killer?

You wake up confused and angry in an unknown hospital. A new doctor is tending to you, she's young, no younger than fourteen. She told you her name, speaking in a voice so soft you could barely hear it. Prim. Such a beautiful name, why did that sound so familiar? You look around, this place was not your hospital room in the Capitol. Where were you?

Finnick rushed through the hallways in the hospital wing. You were here! The mission was successful and they've brought back the remaining victors from the Capitol underground to District Thirteen. He was worried sick about you. Every night that you've been away from his arms was another night he spent sleepless. His eyebags were a dark gray, and his face sunken. Katniss was concerned for his wellbeing, but he didn't care, he just wanted to know if you were alive. He saw your profile hung up by your door upon entering your room, your photo...what have they done to you? You don't look like yourself anymore. His anxiety spiked as he entered your hospital room, you were sleeping. "I had to sedate her, she became too aggressive" Prim said, holding a needle in her hands. You? Aggressive? "Prim, what did they do to her?" Finnick's voice becomes shaky, eyes filled with tears. What if the Capitol citizens used you like they used him? "I don't know, Finnick, but the Capitol did something to mess with her brain, she doesn't know who she is." Prim softly spoke.

Finnick had to step out of the room after Prim said those words. All your memories with each other, erased. He was devastated, and almost had to be sent to one of the hospital beds himself. Thankfully, Katniss saw him and helped him calm down.

It was midnight, Finnick couldn't sleep. You were so close but so far from him. He overheard Prim and Katniss earlier, saying that the sedation wore off and that you were awake again. He kicked his blanket off and walked to your hospital room. He still wanted to see you, he wanted to help you remember. Hell, he would even stay next to you until you regained all your memories, no matter how long it took. He caught a glimpse of you through the tiny window before entering your room. You were awake, sitting down and staring at the wall.

You flinch as you hear your door slam shut. Finnick entered your room and sat down next to you. You were scared. Do the doctors know that the person trying to kill you is in the same room as you right now? Your hands shake as he smiles at you, was this the last thing you were gonna see before you die?

You were weak, but somehow, you had enough strength to stand up. Finnick stood up as well, and stalked closer. He called your name out, and you screamed before your impulses took over, grabbing a metal tray from your table and hitting him over his head. He fell down, blood dripping from his hairline. He called your name out again, and again, sounding like a chant. He was taunting you. Every time he would call out your name you would hit him again, each time harder than the last. Your breathing became erratic, tears flow down your cheeks, his blood staining your gown. It was too much. The world began to spin, and the last thing you see before collapsing was a girl with long, brown hair and Prim standing over you.

Finnick woke up with a headache. He touched the crown of his head and felt multiple bandages wrapped around it. As he begins to wake up, he remembers how you hurt him. How you hit him harder every time he pleaded your name. You would never do that to someone, even in the Games you used non-violent tactics to win. His head perks up as he hears someone enter the room. "She's been hijacked," Plutarch states, "I'm guessing the Captiol rewired her brain to attack you. I'm sorry, Finnick, I know you loved her." Finnick wanted to speak, but his head hurt so much he couldn't. You were just an empty shell.

A couple of days pass, Finnick still gets headaches from time to time, but he takes morphling to numb the pain. He decides to visit you again. He knew this time you would actually murder him, but he's willing to risk it. He eavesdrops from the other patients in the hospital wing; you were transferred to a more socially isolated room. That broke his heart. It wasn't your fault, it wasn't your fault at all. You loved talking to other people, you wanted to know their stories. That's how you two got close in the first place. You were the first tribute to ever ask him to tell you the stories about his Game. It brought back haunting memories for Finnick, yes, but you truly wanted to listen to him, and he could sense that. So he did. He opened up to you, you were the only person that knew what the Capitol citizens did to him after his Game.

He roamed around the hallways of the hospital wing, and stumbled upon the isolation rooms. There, he saw you. You were inside a padded room, soundproof, with a window close to the door. Your hospital gown discarded, now in place a white jumpsuit. On top of that, you were restrained to the bed. As Finnick saw you violently thrash against your restraints, he wanted to take revenge to the people who did this to you. He wanted to take revenge on the Capitol.

Even though Finnick was still recovering, he chose to volunteer for Katniss's squadron. He put on his tactile gear before boarding the plane to the Capitol. As the plane landed and the squadron began making base, Finnick only thought of you. Alongside his weapons, he brought a photo of you two, from your wedding. He caressed the photo, your smile outshining the sun, eyes twinkling like the starry night. You are the only person keeping him afloat in this world. He smiled. When the rebellion ends, and Panem is free, you two would finally have the future that you've always talked about. Living a quiet life, away from the pesky Capitol citizens who invade Finnick's privacy every chance that they get, away from him being pulled every year to mentor children in a death game they have no chance of winning, finally being able to have children without the fear of them being Reaped. But, with your mental state, would you two ever get that future? Finnick stays optimistic, as it was recently reported by President Coin that Peeta, who had been hijacked alongside you, has been making progress, and became aware that he was hijacked by the Capitol. He's been remembering bits and pieces, and Finnick hopes you're remembering as well.

The sewer was damp, sticky, and smelled disgusting. Finnick had been watching over Peeta, noticing how he's slowly becoming accustomed to Katniss again. Finnick hoped you were progressing the same back in District Thirteen. He hears growling a distance away. His eyes widen as he sees the creatures. They look unnatural and uncanny. He quickly wakes up the rest of the squadron and they all run the opposite direction.

The sewers were like a maze, they were all struggling to outrun the mutts. They were terrifying creatures made to kill. He can't help but think earlier, when Katniss compared Peeta to a mutt, and wondered if the rest of the squadron thought the same way about you. Why wouldn't they? Katniss and Prim both saw the way you attacked him. It was obvious you weren't the same person anymore.

The squadron finds themselves in an aqueduct, all falling into the water. Katniss fires her arrows, as Finnick stabs the mutts with his trident. When Katniss and Finnick climb up the ladder, Finnick slips off one of the steps, and falls in.

He screams for help, for mercy. This was it. He feels the mutts' teeth sink into him, and he cries out. His last thoughts; you. How he was never going to see you again, how, now, your perception of him was someone he wasn't.

Finnick's life flashes before his eyes. He has memories from when he was born, his parents, fishing as a child, getting Reaped for the Hunger Games, his victory, what the Capitol did to him afterwards, meeting you, mentoring you, how he was the first person you went to when you won your Game, getting married to each other. He started getting glimpses of his future, the future that no longer was possible now. He sees two kids, a boy and a girl, playing catch with you two. He sees you, aged, you look as beautiful as ever with smile lines and wrinkles adorning your face. He gets one last flash-forward where you two are in bed, old and pruny, holding each other as you both prepare to go into the next life.

"Nightlock, nightlock, nightlock,"

Goodbye

[theramblergal]

For @livingtheparadoxlife, who asked I write something on the twins and Krishnaa after the war.

This is gonna be long and angsty as hell, warning.

Krishnaa can barely look at her youngest two husbands nowadays.

It is no fault of their own, she knows.

But the kalachakra has spun, wreaking untold devastation across every single person, ripping their very souls out of them.

She can barely look at them together for a few seconds before she is reminded by the ghost of what is, what was, and bile rises in her throat and she has to excuse herself, their sad eyes trailing her as she flees, eyes burning.

She gets as far as the next room before she falls to her knees, chest heaving, her insides screaming for breath because every inhale chokes her with the red dust of Kurukshetra and the rank stench of rotting corpses and the metallic tang of blood even though she is hundreds of yojanas away from Kurukshetra. Her eyes do not see the gaudy wealth of the Kurus but the headless and mutilated bodies of her family.

Krishnaa Draupadi—once affectionately called Panchaali, the saubhagya of Prishata's line, is the last daughter of Panchala. The only survivor of the royal family.

She is sonless, fatherless, brotherless—

Twinless.

Dhrishtadyumna.

She cannot think about him without feeling her soul crumble into thousands of pieces, but he is never far from her thoughts.

His luminous eyes, always so full of life, glint at her from a dark corner of the room, but now they are bloodshot, listless, empty, so empty, too empty—

She had always been aware of Dhrishtadyumna through a fire-edged bond in the back of her mind, no matter the distance between them. But that connection had burned to pieces, a choked and whimpering spark being put out instead of the glorious roar of a warrior, leaving ashes drifting in the wind.

They had won.

They had won.

And then they had lost—everything.

Krishnaa had always been blessed with companionship and love beyond any normal person and she had been eternally grateful for it. But there had no one who knew her best but her twin. She had been with him from the first moment her awareness sparked into existence, cradled by the fire's womb, twin sparks in two bodies.

All her secrets, all her tears, all her joy was his—and all of his was hers.

She told him everything, things she'd never tell her husbands.

But he wasn't here anymore.

And Nakula and Sahadeva still had each other.

They were the only two of her husbands who truly understood her bond with Dhrishtadyumna. They understood what it meant to be a twin, more than she could put into words.

But they had always had each other. There was never a moment they were separated. The sons of Maadri had never been torn from the other's side—not through their exiles, their sojourns in other kingdoms, not through the battle.

And she hates that.

She hates that she hates it—hates that she hates her husbands for something so—so small.

(But it isn't small at all.)

She wants to wail, scream at fate: why were they allowed to keep their souls intact when I have burned myself over and over for them and my soul is torn into two—

You have no right to take my twin from me—

The pain is too much, please bring him back—

Please—

Have I not given enough?

A twin is a mirror, a double helix, Dhrishta had said once, orange-brown eyes smiling at her, hand warm in hers—and Nakula and Sahadeva, she and Dhrishtadyumna have always been that. Similar yet different, but always together.

She had stood alone, eyes reflecting the burning pyres of her dead family, clear vision and chin tilted, watching Nakula reach for a weeping Sahadeva—a comfort in a hand reaching in the blind darkness but knowing that they will always reach back for you.

She wanted that—needed it more than anything.

But the one who used to give her that comfort was burning on the pyre in front of her.

They had approached her a few times after that. She would not look at them. Resentment, bitter and sharp, would curdle a vicious poison in her but she could never bring herself to snap at them. Deep down, she was still their Krishnae but that part of her was lost with Panchaali.

She lets out a cry, sharp and wordless, throat choked with a thousand different emotions.

They come to her, rushing to her side.

He will never come back to her.

"Don't—" she whispers, emotions a frenzied storm in her.

"Krishnaa please—we can't see you like this—" Nakula pleads.

"Leave. Please."

"Dhrishta wouldn't want to see you like this, Krishnae.." Sahadeva murmurs.

But they respect her wishes—they always have, even when they don't want to—and leave her.

The sky is perfectly blue; the wind is soothing; the people go about their lives and the world spins on; but Krishnaa presses the back of her hand to her mouth as she weeps alone, shoulders shaking, wondering if she'll ever be able to look at her youngest two husbands without feeling the hollow emptiness of her twin's absence beside her again.

(She never will.)

[horrorchicxoxo]

Flow

Chapter One

(WARNING: SPOILERS FOR AVATAR: THE WAY OF WATER . FLUFF. EVENTUAL SMUT. MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH IN ONE OF THE LATER CHAPTERS! RONAL DOES NOT EXIST IN THIS FANFIC.)

tags: (@dhzjnzi, @w0niecult, @perseny, @durinsnowxii, @simpingfor-wakasa, @kadu-5607, @yeosxxx, @stevesdick , @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @midnightliacr, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed)

————————————

The Sky People.

They were back.

You thought that all those years ago that they had successfully been driven off of Pandora, but now they have come back in full force.

You had been watching the kids when Neytiri and Jake came rushing back to the clan. Tears were streaming down her face, devastation evident in her features. Members of the clan gathered around as the pair struggled to catch their breath.

"Ma sister! The Sky People! They have returned! The flames have destroyed most of the forest!"

The clan gasped at the new information they had just received, fear crossing their faces. Your eyes became wide. You were sure that everything had been settled 13 years ago. Instead, the humans have returned to stake their claim on Pandora. Mo'at, who had been watching over the kids, walked over.

Neteyam, Lo'ak, Kiri  and Spider followed close behind her. Alarmed at the panic that had begun to spread through the clan, Kiri tugged on your arm.

"Auntie, will we have to hide?," questioned the frightened girl, her yellow eyes baring deep into your heart.

With a sigh, you placed your hands on her shoulders.

"I don't know yet, my niece. Only time will tell. We must be strong. We will keep you all safe. Your parents and I won't let anything happen to any of you."

With a nod, you gave your niece a warm hug. One by one, each kid joined the embrace.

You didn't know how things would play out, but you would do whatever it takes to protect your family, and The People.

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

You shot an arrow through the eye of the Sky Beast, killing the human controlling it.

Alongside your sister, Jake, Neteyam and Lo'ak, you have been joining them on raids against the humans. During these raids, you were also tasked with making sure that the two brothers stayed out of trouble. A job that was easier said than done.

"Bro, we have to get down there," shouted an excited Lo'ak.

"No way, Dad will skin us," warned Neteyam, not wanting to incur his father's wrath.

"Come on, don't be a wuss," Lo'ak replied, teasing his brother. With that, Lo'ak dived down towards the action.

Reluctantly, Neteyam followed his brother, grumbling all the while.

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

You stood alongside Neytiri, watching as the clan stripped guns and other weapons from the wreckage.

Through your earpiece, the alarmed voice of Jake pierced through.

"Gunships inbound, fall back!"

You turned your head and saw another Sky Beast, heading your way.

You started running, two explosions reaching your ears, along with the screams of surprise and agony.

You looked back to see who else survived the blasts. Through the smoke, you could see Jake carrying your Neteyam, injured from the blasts, with Lo'ak following.

Neteyam was moving his mouth so he was alive. You could only imagine how bad things were gonna be once you got back to High Camp.

Once you got far enough away from the fires and smoke, you called for your ikran, Moa.

Moa landed in front of you, ready to take back off at your command.

Connecting your queue, you and the others took to the skies, heading back to base.

[love-toxin]

Just gonna harp on vampire!angleface real quick

During the whole demo bat music distraction it's not just eddie, but you tag-team with him. Instead of him going down, you take the fall to the bats. Cut to devastated fruity four, honestly everyone, they just lost a friend, and the four just lost their love.

Days pass and they can't except your gone, it hurts too much, grief and regret of ever letting you get involved. Eddie feeling so completely like he let you down, he couldn't save you.

Then one night, everyone's sleep is disrupted by noises downstairs, Eddie and Steve heading down to investigate. Robin and Nancy following down when the guys seem to be down there to long, and finding them smothering hugging their angel, though you are clearly more toothy than before. But they don't care! They have their darling back so nothing else in the world matters, at least for the moment.

ohohoho....love me some feral angelface >:).....also dear god steve's fuckin badonkadonk in this gif-

(cws: vampire!f!angelface, fruity four, post-s4, character death, canon divergence, violence, blood + hefty gore imagery, grief/mourning elements, references to s2, some LOTR references, the kids make an appearance, el uses her powers, action sequences to broaden my portfolio heyoo!)

All Eddie remembers is blood. Blood and screaming, wailing, inhuman gurgling and the sounds of flesh tearing away from bone--that's the last image he has of you, your limbs bent at odd angles and your body soaked and slick with blood and viscera, your beautiful face drenched in your own blood and your eyes glossy as you whimpered his name, over, and over, and over, his hands shaking as he held you....and then your last breath left your lungs, and you were gone.

To be completely honest, he would've rather died that night. He's wished for the weeks since your death that he would've taken your place, or if he can be completely selfish, if he had just died along with you if that was to be your fate. The feeling of your hands on his back, shoving him out of the way of that first demobat that spelled out your demise, will haunt him for every miserable day he lives without you.

If nothing else, then at least misery loves company. Because the looks on the other's faces, the kids, when they discovered your fate were....they were just awful. Even worse were his partners. Steve, Robin, and Nancy....though the world was numb to him at that point, their voices muffled as if they were speaking to him through glass, he could hear their anguish. Felt Robin's tears on his cheek as she clung to him and sobbed, listened distantly to Nancy's screams of uncontained rage and grief, breaking anything and everything she could find outside. And Steve just stood there as numb as himself, no doubt running through every single choice he made that had led to your death, as he would for the rest of his life.

Losing you, it's like....like Frodo dying on the crack of Mount Doom. The nightmare was almost over, the enduring march nearly to a close, the burden almost broken. Even if you'd been hurt, you would still return home to the Shire. He would've carried you all the way back, eagles or no eagles, and he would've at least taken your body back through the gate if Dustin hadn't dragged him away. "Can't lose you too!" What fucking bullshit. He would have rather died next to you, if it meant he'd at least be wherever you were. He can't bring himself to blame the poor kid, though, because he's been just as gutted at the loss of you, as have all the other kids when they heard the news. A member of the party gone, never coming home.

There's reminders of you everywhere, both intentional and not. Your room hasn't been touched aside from each of them drifting in every so often, settling into your bed or touching the things that still smell of you. Except for Steve--he can't bring himself to step over the threshold of your bedroom, and usually averts his eyes as he passes by it if the door is left open, if he doesn't close it altogether. The clothes you'd left in the dirty hamper never end up getting washed, and yet the food that's always kept in the kitchen that you loved is constantly restocked, whether they end up having to trash it or not. Your spot on the couch is never sat on, but the mug Eddie bought you for your birthday, your favourite of any you've ever owned, is always full and set at your place at the table for every supper. It's painfully monotonous, the same grief being replayed day after day after day, but the rest of the world spins along like Hawkins hasn't lost the best thing it ever fucking had.

But you're dead. The Shire may as well burn without you--burn it all to the ground, because there's no reason to save it if he won't get to share it with you. It doesn't feel at all worth it to wake up every day after that, knowing there's an empty space in the house you all used to share. The hours drag on every day, and it's a lot of monotony, really. The other three try to busy themselves, but the only one who really understands his inertia is Robin--sometimes she just crawls into bed with him when he can't get up, and lets him hold her until she's called away by one of the others. He loves them, loves them just as he loved you, but things can't be the same now that you're gone no matter what they do or how hard they try.

But then comes the day that Dustin's voice crackles through the walkie. Eddie was actually feeling a little better that morning, had a dip in the afternoon but managed to eat dinner with the rest of them. The seat at the end is still sitting empty, the scarf Robin had clumsily knitted you for the cold season draped over the top. Eddie had swallowed down almost the entire bowl of soup when the static had started up, the radio with ever-changing batteries coming to life where it always sits on the kitchen counter.

"Code Red! Code Red! Come in, Riders of Rohan! Steve, fucking pick up the--zzt--goddamn walkie!"

The man in question had rushed out of his seat to squabble back at Dustin through the receiver, annoyed but clearly concerned as he demanded to know the problem--what warranted using the emergency channel when they haven't heard news of any "aftershocks" so to speak, for a while.

"Something's going on--shit, bring your guns, and the bat, too! Meet up at the cellar behind my house--zzt!"

The end of the transmission trails off, and like a group of professional first responders, the four of them forget any further questioning when Steve's frantic palm hitting the side of the radio, and his shout of Dustin's name offers no results. They jump right into action, knocking over their chairs as they scramble through the house to gather their tools--even Eddie, who hurries straight for the broom closet where he's kept his spear and shield from that night. When he throws open the door and reaches for where he knows they're propped up, he hesitates. A flash of a memory zips through his mind.

They didn't save her, so what use are they?

But he ignores that thought. For now, at least, and he grabs both of them to haul them towards the front door. Nancy flips up the window seat in the living room to take out her hidden guns, the shotgun gripped tight in her hand while she tosses the pistol at Robin, and the revolver's handed to Steve for him to stick into the back of his belt--he prefers the bat, though. More control. More familiar.

All suited up, they tear out of the driveway of Steve's otherwise empty house, his BMW kicking up a spray of gravel as he skids on to the road and speeds like a demon towards the Henderson house. They pull up on to the property in record time, barely waiting for Steve to roll to a stop before the three of them are hitting the ground and running around the side of the building--and just about pull their guns on Mike and Will when they come round out of the darkness with a flashlight to meet them, the poor kids almost pissing themselves with respective shrieks as Nancy jerks the muzzle and aims it right at her brother's forehead. With a "Christ, Mike!" and a gasp of relief, she lowers it immediately and follows them as they run down the hill towards those infamous cellar doors, where Dustin, Max, Lucas, and El are all waiting. Steve's the one that runs right to his little protégé, a hand outstretched to grab his baseball cap-clad head as he demands to know the status of everyone.

Eddie himself lingers behind them, garnering a few piteous stares from the other kids. They must know his state of being from what the others have told them, and how they haven't seen much of him since the incident--but they probably didn't know he'd be so quiet, his eyes heavy with bags that his night terrors have kept around, and his stature more hunched and thin and gaunt than before. El seems especially sensitive to his presence, despite knowing little of him personally, and she touches his arm when he gets close with a look of sympathy written clear on her features. It's....surprisingly comforting. Even moreso from a little superhero like her.

And before Dustin can say more than just confirm that everyone present is fine, the heavy metal doors in the ground start to rattle. Not just once, and not gently--they shake violently, a menagerie of sounds emanating from within that resemble that of a monster. The worst of which is the guttural, animalistic growling, that renders everyone silent and sobered as they stare down at the locked cellar.

"Dustin, what the hell is down there?" The curly-haired kid shrugs his shoulders, looking back at Steve with wide eyes that say "How the fuck should I know?" before their attention is drawn back by another rattle and an unsettingly familiar screech.

"Whatever it is, it needs to die." Nancy mutters with finality, cocking her shotgun to ready it and simultaneously humbling everyone present in the same moment. She's more than proven her worth with a firearm at this point. Another rattle, and she doesn't flinch, just stares down the invisible enemy behind the barrier.

These particular doors have been chained shut with a padlock for some time, which is the only reason the shaking doors don't buckle as whatever is inside fights to get out. When a rougher one kicks up, Steve motions for the kids to stand back and keep their flashlights off, asking that cryptic question to his best friend of whether the hole is still there.

"Duh! How would I explain that to my mother? I already had to figure out the whole cat situation."

"Well, I think we know how whatever it is got in there, then, dingus." Steve replies, and Dustin pales as another thud makes them all jump. The older boy waves them back further, and only then does El let go of Eddie's sleeve, moving to stand between Will and Mike as they get back by the trees that border Dustin's backyard.

The four of them then approach the cellar from all sides out front, facing off with that slanted door and readying each of their weapons. Safeties off, bat readied over the shoulder, shield up and spear poised. As ready as they should have been when you needed them. That's what drills through Eddie's head as his heart thuds wildly in his ears.

"Eddie-" Steve turns to say something more, eyes filled with conflict at watching one of the people he loves face death again. Something about all this feels too familiar, but Eddie can't get his mind off the fury that's bubbling in his chest as the doors start thudding even louder and a howling rises out from behind them.

"Let's rip this fucking thing to pieces."

He growls, and turns his head over his shoulder to match the gaze of the brown-haired girl watching his every move--and when he nods, she returns it back to him with just as much determination, and raises her hand with a tremble to her fingers. With a moment to focus, she stares down the chains that circle round the handles, and flexes her pointer finger with the slightest pull for the padlock to shatter open and the chains to fall and slide down to the ground underneath.

Almost immediately, the doors fly open at once and the democreature explodes into view, but it somehow isn't at all what any of them expected to see. The mass of flesh and wrinkled, gray skin speckled with dirt and dried blood is familiar, but it is clearly entangled in a struggle with another of the same kind as they burst out the cellar doors and skid across the grass, right between Steve and Eddie's legs and into the clearing just in front of the kids. And a sequence of events spring into action almost immediately following that, the encounter like a flash of action that Eddie would much rather experience in D&D than real life again.

Steve turns on his heel to shout "Out of the way!" as the kids scream in horror and the democreatures break apart--but when he does, another bat flies out of the dark, open cellar and crashes into his back, sending him sprawling to the ground face-first with a cry, his grip still tight on the handle of his bat. Behind him, Nancy's turning to aim her weapon at the same bats he'd had his eye on, while Robin rushes forward to rear up a kick on the one clinging to the back of Steve's neck. And when two more come flying out, flapping their wings and screeching, a curse rips out of Eddie's throat as his vision goes red and he stabs at the nearest one with a violent battle cry, spearing it almost perfectly through the stomach and slinging the spear in an arc to fling the twitching, lifeless body off and send it rolling across the lawn. Blood splatters over the grass and the next one is about to get the same treatment, just as Robin's knocked Steve's attacker off and shot at it frantically, leaving three or four gaping holes in its body and the ground, but Eddie's next swing misses and so does Nancy's carefully aimed shot at one of the two facing off with each other. The two of them still don't stop thrashing, teeth tearing brutally into each other like they've got some kind of personal vendetta between predator and predator, even as they narrowly miss a killshot with a roll of entwined bodies across the dirt.

But just as she's cocking her gun again, and the kids are hurriedly backing away with their hands on each other to brace themselves, Eddie's heart sinks, and then stops. The bat he had missed flies overhead, circling with more screeches as it must realize it's outnumbered--but it's also bleeding, even though none of them have grazed it. And all four of them watch in shock as one of the ones on the ground lets out its own screech, distinct in how loud and gurgly it sounds, as if it has blood welling up in a non-existent throat. It flaps up and slides back in the direction of the kids, but it doesn't face them. It spreads its wings and bares its fangs at the other bat it's been tangled with, as if it's somehow not only brimming with vengeance, but also trying to protect the party members watching on in empty-handed horror.

"Nancy, don't-!" With only a second to react, Eddie's focus zeroes in on the sound of Nancy raising her gun, head turning and fingers roughly grabbing the barrel to shove it away--and when she misfires at the ground nearby, startled at his intervention, the wounded bat and the one flying overhead both startle at the sound and lunge. One goes for the bigger, oddly-behaving one, but the one above them dives down at a concentrated target--him.

And it hits, collides with him square in the chest just as he's shoving Nancy away, and his world tips as the shield and spear fall from his hands and he shrieks and stumbles back--but the sensation of falling dizzies him as it lasts too long, and pain cracks through his skull at the same time he gasps out for oxygen, the air knocked straight out of his lungs as he hits the concrete stairs and slides all the way down to the bottom. The world there is dark, and cold, and hazy, his vision blurred with black as the screams of his most beloved loves of his life ring in his ears, and his body jerks in pain as the demobat sinks its teeth into his supple chest to devour him. And the only clarity he has is in his thoughts. I'm getting my just desserts. This is what I deserve.

What he doesn't know, what he can't see from where he lies or register in his concussed head, is that the end is far from near. He's not alone, and though it feels as miserable as that place as the monster tears into his flesh, he's not in the Upside Down anymore. Hope soon arrives in the form of that larger, oddly-behaving bat as it soars down the arc over the steps with its attacker still hanging by its heavy wing, and Eddie chokes and gasps for air again when his savior swings its dogged-down limb and knocks his attacker off with its own. The two offending creatures fly with a pathetic shrieking noise before hitting the concrete wall of the cellar, shelves rattling beside it as the two bodies leave cracks behind before they collapse to the ground. Dizzied, they wobble back up to full height with the help of their injured wings, hissing back at him and the heroic bat that's now perched itself on top of his bleeding chest. The howling, gurgly cry that it bellows at the two of them as they start approaching doesn't help his pounding head, but the intimidation keeps them at bay long enough for Steve and Robin to come running down the stairs with their hands free. The kids and Nancy aren't far behind as they wait at the top and shout their names in a panic to hurry them along, the bat on his chest not breaking the outnumbered staredown and threatening hisses even as it eases itself off of him, not even glancing at his heroes as his two partners rush to grab each arm of his and pull him up to half-carry, half-drag him back up the stairs and out of immediate danger.

Steve's hand instantly comes up to cradle his lolling head when the cool air fills his lungs, terror flaring up on his face as he finds his boyfriend's hair slick with blood from a gash against his skull. He pulls him back out of the way for Nancy to assume her position at the top of the stairs, and aim her sights down to shoot anything that dares to come back up. Eddie's trying to get those words out, warn her dazedly not to hurt the big one, don't touch it, please--but it doesn't matter, in the end.

Because in the next minute or two, all they hear is violent screeching, thrashes, clattering and the heavy thuds of things falling off shelves, and the pained cries of animals tearing each other apart. With only the light of the moon overhead and the small beams of light that the kids' flickering flashlights illuminate against the darkness, they see very little save for a few glimpses of wings and splatters of blood--but when it all grows quiet, each one of them waits in fearful anxiety, until the soft gurgles and sound of nails clacking against concrete fill the tense silence.

Something shifts, and a groan rises up out of the dark, strange enough that Nancy readjusts her hold on the gun, and takes several steps back and to the side to get a better shot if need be. In a moment their flashlights all go out completely, and the sounds of Lucas, Mike, and Will nervously smacking their tools with the palms of their hands soon get shushed by Robin, her hand outstretched to give them pause while her other one protectively grips Eddie's arm. A soft, sudden thud echoes off the walls down the steps, and all heads turn to the source with a held breath as the first is followed by several more. Closer, and closer, and closer, like footsteps--until the moonlight meets skin, scarred and glossy with all manner of blood, and eyes that glimmer and reflect back their shocked stares as they watch the figure emerge. Eddie truly can't believe what he's seeing, thinking completely that he's trapped in a concussion-induced hallucination.

Because there's no way you're standing at the top of the steps. Your clothes tattered and gashed in the places he watched you get bitten to shreds, your skin lifeless and cold, yet your mouth dripping with blackened ooze--and when you open it, it's to spit out a chunk of bloodied gray flesh that shlups against the dirt, clearly torn straight from your enemy with the aid of those fangs that gleam with blood.

You're dead. But you're standing right there, the sight of you gives him the strength to straighten up in Steve's embrace, and when he meets your eyes they pierce right through his soul. For that moment, he naively wonders with guilt hanging down his shoulders whether....whether you're gonna hurt them, too. Whether you're a monster disguised as the girl he's loved more than his own life, risen up from the Upside Down to torture them all into the same death you suffered.

But while he's doubting himself, doubting you, there's one person there that doesn't waste a second. El comes sprinting up to you with a shocked grin like what just happened never did, and steps over the mouthful of bat-flesh you spat out to throw her arms around you in a tight hug. And before you've even managed to get your own arms back around her, Dustin's rushing by next, his hat flying off and tumbling to the ground as he hugs your side, nuzzled up underneath your elbow. You squeeze them both so tight, your features relaxing from that intense focus to pure relief, and by the time they're pulling away to give you room Eddie's found himself shambling towards you. He uses Steve and Robin's hands for balance at first, still shaky from getting his brain knocked around his skull--but when he reaches out for you, you meet him with a single step, and catch him against your chest as he collapses into it. Tears already pouring out of him with choked-up sobs to match, he trembles like a leaf when you send a gurgly whisper into his ear.

"I missed you, Eddie."

He could just drop to his knees at that moment, but your voice renews his strength, and he clings to you even tighter as warmer bodies cluster around him and you. Robin hugs your side and Nancy drops her gun to huddle up to the opposite one, with Steve circling his big arms around nearly all three of you to hug you so tight it hurts. But through tears Steve's laughing for the first time in months, and so is Robin, while Nancy's buried her face in your neck and Eddie has a kiss already pressed to your bloody cheek. They'll only get a little longer to bask in the glory of having you return from the dead, because soon enough the tension has totally lifted and the other kids are burrowing past the adults to get in their own hugs. Especially Max and Will, who can't help but start laughing along with the older ones as they push past "you big gross lovebirds" to get to the friend they thought they'd lost forever. It's a moment Eddie's craved so deeply but could never believe he'd have, not even in his deepest fantasies, because to even imagine how things could be different is too painful when reality has been beating him down all this time.

The moment isn't destined to last, either. Because in as sobering a way as possible to remind you all of your current situation, a terrifying howl echoes from the depths of the cellar and you all break apart to turn towards it. It's deep enough that whatever it is isn't upon you yet, but Eddie watches as he gets another taste of your newfound instincts--you throw your arms out in front of everyone standing close to the doors, and face down the pitch darkness with a fury etched into your face that he can truly empathize with. With one word growled out in that guttural yet incredibly sexy voice, "Back", all of them shuffle back a generous distance from the danger zone, save for your partners. Including himself, despite just now finding enough steadiness to stand on his own as he bends down to grab his abandoned weapons, still sitting where he'd dropped them upon being attacked. You look amongst them with worry tracing your expression, so familiar it's like he's seeing the girl he knew before all of this, before she became something else. But the others pick up their weapons, and stand unflinching as a much greater screech rattles the window panels on the Henderson house just over the hill.

"You're not gonna face them alone this time, sweetheart." Eddie feels his own voice rumble in his throat, and finds the smile he thought he'd never show again as you look back at him with that darling sweetness in your own.

"Never. We're with you." Steve joins in, shaking his head as he pulls the revolver out from his belt, and swings the bat around in tight circles with his other clenched fist. Nancy's concentration grows hard again as she glares down at whatever's preparing to come out, her trigger finger steady as ever, while Robin checks her pistol's magazine and clicks it back in before aiming it with a confidence he's rarely seen.

And you get a wild look in your eyes, the smell of hotly pumping blood exciting your senses as you stretch out your fingers--and in a transformation so fast it would be missed within a blink, Eddie watches in awe as your body contorts in a sudden jerk before exploding into a mass of dark, taut flesh running rife with veins and pulsing muscles. Your wings outstretch in place of arms, and you somehow look even larger up close, easily dwarfing any inferior creature with size and with vicious fervor--and when you release a warning screech into the night, the rumbling of whatever is fast approaching grows louder, and all five of you ready yourselves one last time for a fight. But this time, together.

[what-gs-watching]

“What good did love do, Doctor? When did it ever help?”

So I spent last week at my parent’s house finally pulling off the surprise birthday party I’d been planning for months for my mother and I was there for farrrrr too long and I ate waaaay too much and I only had six days from when I got home to get my head right and ready to start a new job after nine effing months of doing nothing. 

I’m starting on Monday and I’m super anxious about it, and everyone is posting about what’s going on with Doctor Who so obviously I decided to let Ruby and 15 turn my brain off for a bit, it’s the least they can do. Maybe that was a mistake, because woooooof y’all. I’m devastated that the season is already over. 

And as such, we def need to talk about both of these episodes at the same time. 

The Legend of Ruby Sunday / Empire of Death

Wherein, The Doctor and Ruby show up to UNIT to finally ask about the old woman they keep running into on their adventures, and immediately very purposefully fall into a trap. 

I have to say, as much as I love 15, baby boy has NOT been very observant this season. He’s caught up in having fun and showing his feelings and all of that is fantastic and beautiful but if this had been 10 or 11 they would have been mulling over this situation the entirety of the season and I probably wouldn’t feel so much like I just got whiplash. 

Like, the internet has been telling me to think about this random ass lady, instead of seeing the Doctor trying to puzzle her out in his downtime. And that’s the first time I’ve really thought to myself, ‘this is incredibly unlike the doctor.’ But we’re going to let it slide, because he’s otherwise charmed the pants off of me.

There was a lot I was definitely about in these episodes, in no particular order - 

OBVIOUSLY, the Rose / Ruby bonding. Absolutely adorable. They immediately gravitated to each other and I love that. It’s so sweet. And I’ll take ANY scrap of 14 I can get, but 15 asking ‘how’s your uncle?’ really made me greedy for more. Couldn’t my girl Rose given like, even the smallest cute little anecdote? Like ‘oh, he’s really into gardening right now…’ or something? Gimme like, even the littlest bit. I neeeed it. But fine. 

15’s outfits. I’ve loved all of the stuff they’ve put him in all season but HELLO that leather jacket and the cozy sweater he had on in the mish mash TARDIS? Gorgeous. Beautiful. I want to buy it right now.

Also, the mish mash TARDIS itself, and the little kiss 15 gives it at one point. Love all the random throwbacks inside that little thing even if I don’t know most of them because no, I never went back and watched the original seasons, so sue me. I’m pretty sure I spotted 11’s little scanner tv thing though, and I love that. I miss Matt Smith. 

And the Doctor lashing out and punching the wall and huffing and puffing and screaming and then Mel giving him a kick in the ass. I’m going to keep talking about how I love that 15 is actually okay with showing his feelings, but I do think he got too lost in them. We all been there, boo. But like, you heard that sick TARDIS sound (that’s going to haunt my dreams) and you were just like ‘oh I’ve heard that before’? BOY you are so distracted. 

Anyway, I’m vaguely aware there’s background on Sutekh that I should probably google if I want to fully understand the situation, but I’m not gonna do it. I accept that it’s the god of death and the doctor fought it once and banished it to the time vortex, but I have to say, I find the rest of the storyline a little bit weird. It hitched a ride on the TARDIS and traveled with the Doctor for basically untold amounts of time and no one ever noticed? And it’s appearance is NOT related to 14 casting that salt at the end of the universe, even though it was pretty clear that the rest of the random god appearances were? 

I guess I’m willing to accept all of that, but gang. Here’s the thing. After all of that time traveling around and watching the Doctor do what he does (and admittedly trying to sabotage him by planting harbingers? I guess? Wherever they went?) you’re still not going to kill him right off when you finally hatch your plot? You KNOW he gets out of things. You know he literally gets out of everything. You’ve watched him wiggle his way out of shit because his adversaries have given him an inch but you’re like ‘it’s fine, that won’t be me, because I REALLY need to know who this random human’s mother is?’ 

Nah. Nah nah nah. Like, maybe if you had really tried to kill him and he got out of it, I’d be like, ‘okay fine’ but that death cloud was half-assed and they beat it on like, a moped. 

If we’re going with real scary gods that have literally the power of basically everything, I’m gonna want their actions to make sense. 

I also have to admit that when the Doctor was monologuing about how the whole thing was his fault, when he said about all of the things he’s done “I thought it was fun”, I found myself thinking about how he really has been playing a game of his own devising and maybe he…shouldn’t. And it felt like maybe he thought that, too. Like, when is it gonna be enough for him? 

The point is, It’s super sweet that Ruby got to figure her shit out, they got me I cried at all of that, but the whole thing did feel a little disjointed to me. Which is fine, because now I’m sitting here like, ‘yo I need more’ but there isn’t more, not for forever, and clearly that’s how they get you. The arch wasn’t a cliff hanger really but also it kind of was and I’m unsatisfied. Maybe that’s the point. 

And I do now agree with Tumblr that the most interesting thing in all of this is how 14 and Donna reacted to the death cloud, and their reconstitution, and the realization that Rose was at UNIT during the entire thing - that’s going to occupy my brain for a really long time.

At the end of the day, eight episodes was not enough. But I’m SO  endeared to 15 and I love the direction the show is going, haters can hate all they want but Doctor Who was always weird and it was always for outcasts and it’s beautiful and stupid and silly and wonderful. Wonderful and perfectly imperfect. 

Friends, this season came at a time I really needed it. I'm thankful it helped me through my forced work hiatus, it's part of the tapestry that kept me going. And that's the good that love does. Doctor Who, I love you.

[bunitivity]

I really REALLY need to tell you my hc that Luffy and Usopp sleep in the same bed 98.37% of the time. They are EXTREMELY hard to seperate.

When Usopp first joins the strawhats along with Merry, the boys have to make do with what they have. And that includes taking turns sleeping in the hammocks. Now I'm going to reference that pic where Luffy is hanging down on Usopp's body from his hammock. Also the one where Zoro and Sanji sleep on the floor face to face. That one. One time Luffy actually falls into Usopp's hammock but neither of them realize it and in the morning the sniper might have hit his head when falling on the floor from the sudden surprise. But then it became a usual thing and both of them were becoming closer friends so eventually Usopp just proposed them sleeping together since they're gonna end up like that in the end. Of course the more they travelled, they got bunks for comfort, because sleeping on the floor/couch got annoying.

Then Water 7 happens and Usopp is devastated. He really wants to go back to them snuggling but he feels like if he offers it right after what happened to them it would feel like he didn't feel sorry at all, which is not true. And besides, Sunny has all the comfort you could ever want, so no more "well, if you're gonna slip into my bunk anyways, why not just share it from the start" excuse.

However, Luffy's thought process is a little different. He gets a little confused as to why Usopp still hasn't invited him over. Well, the sniper apologized, they had an emotional reunion, spent the rest of the day together and now they won't even snuggle like they did before? Something's gotta be up.

So as soon as Luffy makes his decision, he "slips" into Usopp's bunk and hugged the shit out of the sniper, making sure he wasn't going anywhere. Usopp let him stay. He wanted to anyways.

So since then, their habit of sharing one bed and cuddling was fully established. Oh boy, I sure hope they don't get seperated again only for a longer period of time.

No listen you literally read my mind! I’ve literally been thinking about this idea nonstop I’ve it written in my draft somewhere. Still think about that moment post dressrosa where usopp just goes to sleep right on top of luffy and no one bats an eye lol(really tried to find a pic of it but it isn’t in my tag ://) it was just business as usual for everyone but there’s no way that’s the first time that’s happened. They definitely sleep together all the time. It’s just second nature to them to just curl around each other and fall asleep.

And oh w7 ;-; the most devastating arc my beloved <3 neither of them sleeps during their separation(i dont actually have long they were apart but I’m pretty sure it was just one night considering how fast paced one piece is but it was a very looong night either way with Usopp staying up working on the merry while luffy just tossing and turning until he just ends up staring out over that rooftop where nami finds him the following morning telling her he was looking out for robin but really he was just looking out the sea to where the merry was docked🥲)

and ofc luffy would be the one to push past the awkwardness because once usopp apologized that was it he had already forgiving him the moment he saw usopp on that bridge screaming at him to keep fighting(still think about how ready luffy was to bring him to the crew immediately post ennies lobby until zoro knocked some sense into him lol) there was no way he was going another sleepless night without him

[taylorrepdetective]

Wait could you expand on says don't go / cornelia street analysis? I would like to hear more about that

Say Don’t Go was written with DW during the last days of December 2013. It appears to be about a new, undefined relationship where Taylor is in that stage of not knowing where the other person stands and is confused and a bit distraught that they are leading her on and don’t feel as strongly as Taylor does. Taylor is hooked and desperately hoping this person isn’t gonna be another unrequited love. You can read it as an early non-labeled relationship because Taylor says “I love you” to the person apparently for the first time, and is met with devastating silence. Ouch. (It obviously could be read as a relationship that is trying to be rekindled and the other person is not fully into it, but to me, new, undefined relationship fits best, especially with the timing of what I believe was going on at this time, and with other context, which I’ll get to.)

The lines “why’d you have to lead me on” and “I’m trying to see the cards that you won’t show” is a direct parallel to Cornelia Street’s looking back to the early stages of that relationship “Back when we were card sharks playing games, I thought you were leading me on”. So assuming Say Don’t Go was written contemporaneously to the events of late 2013, and that verse of Cornelia street is looking back to then, we got a resolution to the questions asked in SDG. Taylor thought they were leading her on but the “you called before I hit the tunnel..showed your hand” indicates that the other person finally explained themselves and they weren’t leading her on. And since in CS she is looking back from 2016 (when she lived at Cornelia st) to the early part of relationship, we can assume that that showing your hand bit in CS means the relationship from late 2013 continued for years.( Yes I know there’s that pesky “packed my bags left Cornelia st” that doesn’t fit 2013 , but let’s not forget she buzzcuts things and doesn’t always write literally because she is in the closet. Personally, I substitute The West Village for Cornelia St here.)

There are lots of other parallels in this song to other songs. First of all we have “cat and mouse for a month or two or three” which in my world view points to an early undefined relationship where they were sort of playing games with each other before they defined it. And Delicate, which was them having The Talk to define it.

The most intriguing parallel, though, is with YAIL. This new idea that Taylor’s confession of love was met with a devastating silence, and then by the time she wrote YAIL she was able to reinterpret that silence into a form of falling in love with your best friend (with the fear of ruining it causing confession paralysis that is such a core queer experience) is really something. I always loved YAIL, but this interpretation takes it to another level that makes me want to jump off a cliff.

Other possible linked songs:

-shot in the darkest dark and Getaway Car’s we never had a shotgun shot in the dark.

-The way she yells “I Love You” calls back to Cruel Summer’s screamed “I Love You” which was met with a devilish grin.

- the knife and the bleeding also ties to cruel summer.

I don’t want to go too far because it’s easy to get caught up in Swiftisms and see parallels that aren’t really there (like she wrote songs about trucks and dresses and rain and porches when she was 13-15 yo, it doesn’t mean she was still singing about that muse 10 years later.) But the card sharks, showing your hand, leading me on stuff between CS and Say Don’t Go is as clear as anything we ever get imo.

Lastly, we have this diary entry to tell us, contrary to her public statement that she stopped dating for two years, she was clearly dating someone during this period (one week after writing SDG) and it wasn’t going well:

Also, the original prologue to 1989 included this:

I wrote about moving to the loudest and brightest city in the world, the city I had always been overwhelmed by... until now. I think you have to know who you are and what you want in order to take on New York and all its blaring truth. I wrote about the thrill I got when I finally learned that love, to some extent, is just a game of cat and mouse.

So another parallel to Lover, that is specifically about deciding to move to NY.

So to me, it appears that sometime shortly after this diary entry, the Delicate conversation happened and the hand was shown. And she decided to move to NY by the end of January,

[thefunkwitch]

The Pallas Asteroid Through The Signs 𓌜 🗡

Overview: Pallas has interesting mythology because Pallas was supposedly two different people back then. Originally, Pallas was Athena’s “adopted” sister and she had an adoptive father after being born from Zeus’ skull and the sister that she gained from the adoptive family was Pallas. What Pallas and Athena had in common was that they were matched in wits and strength; so they would duel each other and even they would do one of those “arm wrestles” when two people are just kinda stuck at the same point and no one is beating the other because they were both so matched in that skill. Until, one day they were both fighting while (again) being matched in that skill, so someone distracted Pallas so that Athena would get a shot to make a strike on her. And because Athena thought that Pallas was going to dodge, she didn’t realize that Pallas was so distracted but it was too late because Athena landed her stab in Pallas so that she ended up killing her. She accidentally skewered her and with the remorse and devastation of losing her friend and sister, she eventually took Pallas’ name in honor of her memory. So, we truly use Athena and what she represents in mythology to understand what Pallas is in Astrology. In mythology Athena is the goddess of wisdom and warfare; When we think of warfare we usually think of Aries who not only is not only a zodiac sign that is ruled by Mars but in mythology was the God Of War. The way that it coincides with Pallas and Athena is matching Wisdom and Warfare, it’s just going out into battle with pure masculine Aries Energy. 

This asteroid also represents the feminine side of Athena that is calculated and social; what you end up with when you mix them together is strategy. And there, my beautiful people is what Pallas represents; it means where you use your strategy in terms of what house it falls into and where you are the most strategic. It also can highlight what your “war” strategy looks like! 

Pallas in Aries: Your creative intelligence shows how quickly you can up with solutions to new issues. You are innovative, you’re a pioneer, you think on your feet, and you act as your own source of your inspiration. You guys are the type of people to fight for what you believe in and the things that you believe are right or true. You’re typically the first person to set things in motion as well and you would rather face justice head on. You might also possess strong political views and you won’t be easily persuaded and you will stand up for the “under dogs” or the weak. Perhaps, you choose to not seek any other type of healing from others because you want to deal with things on your own. Then again, perhaps sports, physical activity, or screaming can contribute to your healing. Or you may actively seek healing practices and you might also possess a love for high level but healthy competition. And you also don’t typically fear losing. 🏺

Pallas in Taurus: Your creative intelligence shows  how visual you can be and how artistic you can be. You’ll visualize how a new issue can be solved in fact you might use your physical senses to work your way through it. You guys are in tune with the natural world and you guys are also very artistic. You might turn to things like art, culture, food, music, and all things beautiful as a source of inspiration. And you guys will use your common sense when it comes to your political debates or political issues and you’ll try to remain calm in situations that are really chaotic and unjust. You guys will also possess fixed opinions and you guys will also take your time when deciding a healing method. You want to know if it’s gonna be truly valuable, so things like natural medicine, cooking, sewing, or gardening, can contribute to your healing. When you find something that works you stick to it and you might not be fond of competition but if you know that you might win, you’ll definitely compete. 🏺

Pallas in Gemini: Your creative intelligence shows how intellectual and communicative you can be. You’ll use your worlds to come up with new solutions to new issues and you’ll draw from the information you have gathered. You might know a thing or two about the issue due to you being about to pick up bite sized pieces of knowledge everywhere you go. You guys are basically a master with words! You guys might turn to writers, teachers, media, reading as sources of inspiration. You’ll use your sharp wit within the realm of politics and you’ll communicate when justice should be served. However, your views are subject to change and you’re curious about a variety of healing methods especially talking, poetry, or learning contributing to your healing. There can be times where you will gladly participate but also times when you would much rather leave it. 🏺

Pallas in Cancer: Your creative intelligence shows how intuitive and in tune you can be. You guys will feel through any issues that may arise and know how to comfort others in the process. Your hyper sensitivity and empathy is the way you figure things out and you guys assess the deeper layers and the things that can’t necessarily be seen. But, you guys can pick up on the things that can be felt because you guys are perceptive and you might even turn to care giving, art, food, family, music, and history as sources of inspiration. You guys will defend your loved ones with a tenacious stance and if others hurt your family for instance you will fight honorable so. You guys will also defend your heritage as well as children and the elderly and you are drawn towards healing practices that are revitalizing and calm. Perhaps things like bathing, cooking, and affection or family time may contribute to your healing you’ll support others through their own healing as well. You guys prefer to feel competitive environments out before deciding to participate. 🏺

Pallas In Leo: Your creative talent shows how animated and expressive you can be. You’ll use your gifted creativity and visions to come up with new solutions to issues. You typically won’t shy away from expressing how you see things and you’ll enjoy the attention and praise that you receive for being a star. You guys aim to impress and you might even turn to storytelling, performing, romance, and dating as sources of inspiration. You’ll use your leadership and charisma when it comes to politics and when you want to create justice you won’t be persuaded for a different opinion. You guys are interested in healing methods that involve play, pleasure, and liveliness. You guys may get into more art, therapy and comedy, dance, or even drama contribute to your healing and you guys will be proud of your progress. You aren’t likely to back down from competition and you’ll want to prove yourself and show the world what you’re made of. 🏺

Pallas in Virgo: Your creative intelligence shows how analytical and detailed you are. You’ll examine solutions to new issues up close and you’ll notice the tiny errors that many may overlook. And in this aspect, you’ll break things down and you’ll strip things back to their simplest form. There is something purifying. about this process and you don’t typically like to complicate things and if others need your help you’ll want to assist in any way you can. High quality and doing the job correctly are important and you might turn to medicine, sewing, pottery, or health as sources of inspiration. Politically speaking, you’ll be practical and hands on and you guys will have high expectations of yourself. You guys are the type of people to recognize any justice or legal changes that should be made and you’ll use discrimination when it comes to healing methods. Ya’ll may enjoy yoga, nutrition, exercise, or crafts can contribute to your healing. You can be humble when competition is concerned but also are willing to put your best foot forward. 🏺

Pallas In Libra: Your creative intelligence shows how diplomatic and fair minded you can be. You’ll consider all moving parts when it comes to coming up with solutions to new issues. You guys will assess how things relate to one another and perhaps there is never a simple black and white answer because you see the “grey” and also you’ll typically want to remain rational and firm. You possess a desire to bring balance. If there’s anything that is too far on one side can make you feel uneasy. You might turn to beauty, fashion, or design or even music as sources of inspiration. When it comes to politics and justice you can be a natural defender of justice. You’ll weigh out your options and consider other healing methods like tea, couples therapy, and counseling, even meditation can contribute to your healing. Perhaps, you have a “take it or leave it” attitude towards competition but there is apart of you that wants to win. 🏺

Pallas in Scorpio: Your creative intelligence shows how deep and perspective you can be. You want to get to the root of any new issues and the solutions you come up with will come from a piercing place and date. You see what’s going beneath the surface and you can bring whatever information that’s hidden to light. By making what is unconscious actually conscious you can do remarkable things. However, this is a strength that should not be taken lightly and you can use what you find for better or for worse. Still, you might turn to investigating, sex, mystery, and even other paranormal sources of inspiration and political speaking you might keep your opinions and beliefs close to your chest and you may not reveal your strategy especially to enemies and other foes. When you want justice you can be dominate, devoted, and intense and you can be very passionate and when it comes to any healing methods scream therapy, sex therapy, hypnosis, or even symbolic art can contribute to your healing. You may be determined when it comes to competitive matters and you’ll be controlled and strong. 🏺

Pallas in Sagittarius: Your creative intelligence shows how moral and conceptual you can be. When you encounter new issues you use your moral compass for guidance and your solutions are typically reflective of the bigger picture. You want to do the right thing and at the same time your imagination can lead the way. You also may consider universal principles and truths you might turn to travel, religion, philosophy, or spiritual knowledge for sources of inspiration. When it comes to politics you can be a defender of truth and you may be righteous when it comes to law and justice. You can be adventurous when considering healing methods, tarot, humanistic therapy, hiking, and lectures contribute to your healing. In terms of competition, you want to reach your best potential even when you lose something you may gain something else in the process and learn. 🏺

Pallas in Capricorn: Your creative intelligence shows how structured, orderly, and practical you can be. You assess the foundation of any new issue and your solution will be based on what has already been successfully tried and tested you’ll also what to be the authority of the plan and you’ll come up with the strategy that works. You prefer to gain recognition for your efforts and you might turn to business, drafting, building, and planning as sources of inspiration. When it comes to politics you aim to defend law and order; you guys will definitely make sure that justice is served. You guys like to be the person in control as well and it might take you time to see which healing methods work the best for you. You guys are the type of people that won’t settle for less either. Things like getting massages, laser therapy, and dental care can contribute to your healing and competitively speaking being seen as the big boss might matter to you greatly and you guys definitely want to be taken seriously. 🏺

Pallas in Aquarius: Your creative intelligence shows how futuristic and inventive you can be. When a new issue arises you might jump two steps ahead and you have to consider the future possibilities. So, the solutions you bring forward typically represent what is still to come. This can result in some confusion with others but still you’re ahead of your time and you like to try out new ways of tackling problems. You might turn to technology, progressive house music, graphics, design, or even space as sources of inspiration. Politically, you’ll typically defend humanitarian causes and you might be part of certain movements and protests. You’ll fight for freedom and equality and justice; you’ll experiment with healing methods as well. Things like group therapy, crystals, vibrations, and geometry can contribute to your healing. You might appear as if you don’t care for competition but the moment you get to share the unique. 🏺

Pallas In Pisces: Your creative intelligence shows how imaginative and spiritual you can be. When you come up against new issues, you see beyond what is being shown and you tend to have a sixth sense. Your solutions come an extremely insightful and intuitive place and you might not be aware of your psychic abilities while you guys are actually a natural born healer. You may turn to fantasy, film, photography, or to your dreams as sources of inspiration. When it comes to politics and justice you tend to choose the non violent root. You would prefer if humanity was compassionate and if fighting wasn’t an option. You might devote yourself to a cause or to a charity that moves you deeply. Perhaps, you consider many types of healing methods like poetry, art, meditation, or journaling can contribute to your healing. While you can take part in a competition you still wish the best for the other person or people involved. 🏺

[caelanglang]

This is me outside your window begging you not to abandon Akai or in general ao3 out of fear of me—

I swear it is not all depressive as shit there’s ACTUALLY joy somewhere in there i am capable of writing joy I swear I swear

ito. dude. my brother in tumblr.

Allow me to walk you down my Akai journey. Sorry if it's gonna be a long read.

So. Months ago, after experiencing one of the most magical and adventurous Ao3 fic that is mvo, I saw your alta au sketch. I remember vibrating with so much excitement as I reblogged it. When you dropped the first chapter in Ao3, I ran—no, I sprinted. I've never opened a link with so much speed and excitement like that moment. Then i read the tags. Because last time I trusted an author (hi Ellie) with so much skill in storytelling and blindly jumped over the tags to read their skk fic, I was left with so much devastation and pain over how good it was (I missed the death tags) And I saw it.

"childhood friends to lovers to then enemies to lovers again, let's get this straight they both die okay?"

ITO. Do you understand the emotions I went through when I read those two tags??? I WAS SO HAPPY THEN SO SAD. ITO. I even messaged my friend about it. Which is in itself not a common thing for me to do.

ALAS. I DECIDED. OKAY I'LL READ IT. I KNOW WHAT'S COMING. I'M STRONG ENOUGH FOR THIS.

It was like mdzs all over again bro. Me, falling in love with the characters in the flashbacks. Me being devastated over shijie's death. no.

BUT THEN. You wrote them with so much life???? I could feel their blood running and pumping with so much vitality through the words—in the way you wrote them with so much color. That mattered so much to me. They were so young. The war felt so close yet so far. THEY WERE SO YOUNG. I knew what was coming. But with the way how you wrote them. I couldn't help but feel so attached. Just like the way how you wrote them being so captivated by each other. I was so captivated by them. Then the fear finally caught up. THEY'RE GONNA DIE. IN A WAR. And i'm telling you. ANGST IS OKAY WITH ME BUT WAR ANGST JUST HITS SO DIFFERENT. WAR ANGST WAS ALSO THE REASON I STOPPED READING TGCF. So yes. I froze time and stopped reading when they were young and as happy as they could possibly be in that damned war and timeline.

okay enough dramatics i'm sorry for making you read this much. I just wanted you to know I will inevitably fall in love with your words and storytelling. And i know i will be devastated. I'm not your strongest soldier.

but okay. i'll read it again. we rebuild homes in forgotten battlefields after all... i'll gather my guts again... orz thank you for writing such a wonderful fic (i will give thanks before i start screaming at you once i'm done)