#perceive or do not. i am covering my face anyway

[coldshrugs]

one of the few things i'm sure of

pairing: io laithe / estinien varlineau word count: 1.4k rating: explicit – minors do not interact notes: estinien ruminates on his feelings for io during a moment of intimacy. he's ready to put it into words.

Sprawled in a plush, high-backed chair, Io scans a thick tome of Arkasodara folklore, a recent gift from Nidhana. Late afternoon sun streams through the open window and warm light dances over her face and glints in the ink blue of her hair. Long, elegant fingers dart across the page, and her lips spread in a delighted smile now and then–something must be amusing.

Across the room, Estinien cleans and polishes his armor. He watches her wordlessly and smiles. He likes this.

His chambers are a mess, and she is to blame. Half-finished books lay open on every surface, and her clothes are stashed in his wardrobe with very little rhyme or reason. She burrows into the private spaces of his life, making herself at home, leaving little pieces of evidence for him to find when she’s pulled away to some far-flung corner of the world. He doesn’t mind; all of this and more he can bear, because he loves her–though he hasn’t given voice to that thought.

A short, deep grunt of laughter breaks the silence.

She looks up from her book with the same precious smile, eyes sharp and suspicious. “What?”

“You seem to be enjoying yourself.” He shrugs.

“And you seem to enjoy staring. Where are your manners, Ser Estinien?”

A twitchy grin accompanies her feigned indignance. She bites her bottom lip to keep up the charade, and Estinien laughs again.

The book snaps closed. “I find it very difficult to concentrate when you do that.”

“When I do what, exactly?” He continues wiping down the pauldron, but teasing her is a game he cannot resist. His gaze sweeps down the length of her body, draped so casually in the chair. She wears a loose linen tunic, though every inch of skin underneath it is familiar to him, and her long legs are bare. His eyes snap back to hers. “Look at you?”

Her chest heaves, and he watches that too. He doesn't have to guess how her body responds to his attention. Her pulse quickens, heat blooms in her chest and takes root further down. She stokes the same fire in him.

She nods slowly. “Yes. Like that.” Chewing her lip again, she looks at the closed book in her hands, the window, the floor... Estinien stops polishing and places his work aside. Unable to find anything else of interest, Io’s gaze slowly slides his way.

He leans back, half-propped on his bed. “Then come here, and I’ll do more than look.”

He never tires of her earnest surprise at being desired. Her wide eyes, as if she’s hearing it for the first time. Her careful steps across the room, almost like she’s allowing him to change his mind.

Estinien reaches for her, sure of what he wants, and tugs her closer until she’s in front of him. The hands he watched so closely as they skimmed the page now brush loose hair from his eyes, their touch warm and light. His eyes fall closed, almost distracted from purpose by the gentle affection, but proximity brings confidence. Io’s hands travel down to the leather cord lacing his shirt, and she unties it eagerly.

“You would have your way, and I would have mine. It’s my turn to look.”

His shirt is on the floor in seconds. Io touches him, roaming over relaxed muscle, tracing knotted scars. Gone is the reserved caution from moments ago, and in its place lies a heavy need. Her eyes, an impossibly deep shade of blue, turn hungry and ever darker. She lifts his hands to her hips, a silent instruction to touch her. 

He grips her tightly, kisses her belly, and curses the thin fabric that separates them. Her hands play in his hair, short nails grazing his scalp, and he groans against her when she tugs his unbound locks.

“Io,” he breathes, voice like gravel. He needs her closer, needs her on him.

Estinien slides further onto the bed and Io follows, planting a knee on each side of him. He grasps her thigh, fingertips finding purchase on her soft skin. His free hand travels up her front, rippling the fabric in its path. She shivers when his palm brushes across her nipple, the peak hardening under his hand.

Io, all sweetness and sincerity, cups his face and kisses him slowly, taking her time. Soft lips move with his, steady, patient. Her hips grind down against him, she sighs at the friction and he can no longer be delicate. Not when she moves like this, determined to feel him half-hard and aching for her through his trousers. 

His hand tangles into her hair, and his kiss is much less refined. Open-mouthed and urgent, he tells Io exactly how much he needs her. Not just now, not merely like this.

At his side in battle, and warming the other side of his bed. In the quiet moments he wants to share with no one else, and in the crowded rooms he’s forced to endure. The small joys and the monumental failures–he wants to be with her for them all.

He peels away her tunic, careful not to let it tangle on her arms or ears. It lands on the floor with his shirt. He has only a moment to draw his tongue over the warmth of her newly exposed skin before she pushes him against the bed with a firm hand.

Io’s fingers rake down his stomach and pause at his belt. “May I?” she asks, dipping to kiss the corner of his mouth. 

“Gods, yes, Io.” 

And she obliges, discarding the last of his clothes quickly before her hands are on his cock.

His low moan encourages her strokes. Estinien shudders at the insistent twist of her hand, chasing the touch, thrusting into her grip until he’s at the edge. Io’s played this game before, and she won’t dare push him over yet. The soft, playful smile she tried to hide half an hour ago is back.

“I love the sounds you make,” Io whispers, lips ghosting across his ear. She moves further up his lap, and he can feel the heat between her thighs. Her hair falls around them, a dense blue curtain. The world condenses to her face, her lips on his neck, his hands on her body. “I love…”

She bites her lip, bites back the “you” he desperately wants to hear.

He loves her. Her hand pressed hard into his chest, back arching gracefully under his hands as she takes the lead. Loves her when she sinks onto him, slowly, slowly, the little gasp when their hips meet and he’s finally buried inside her. Loves the satisfied smile she reserves for these moments with him. She saves so much for him and him alone, creates a language only they understand, and he loves her.

Io moves and, enveloped in her slick heat, the sentence goes unfinished but not forgotten.

Estinien watches once more; dark freckles peppered across her skin, the sheen of sweat catching the sunlight. She leans back and speeds her pace, and his thumb circles her clit. Tiny wrinkles crease around her eyes as she squeezes them shut. Her lips part, frozen in a moan she tries to suppress.

“Don’t,” he says. Io meets his eyes, hazy confusion knit between her brows. “Don’t hold back, not with me.”

The moan rips free, loud in the confines of his room. Louder than she’s ever allowed herself to be before. Shortly after, she breaks, legs quaking as she falls against his chest, panting between kisses pressed to his sweat-damp skin.

He continues when she cannot, cradling her closer and searching out her mouth. Languid, wet kisses pass between them until he finds his end, as warm and sweet and radiant as Io herself.

They lay on his disheveled bed, caught in a sunbeam. She twists his silver strands between her fingers, nuzzling into his neck. He strokes her back.

“We should just say it.” His fingers wander down to her leg, hiking her thigh up higher on his waist. Someone must go first. Easier to say exactly what she means to him. “I–”

“I love you, Estinien.” Io kisses his shoulder, right on top of the old scar.

He’s lucky she can’t see his ridiculous smile. He takes her hand and raises it to his lips. “I love you, too.”

[vicvinegarandhughhoney]

Dennis Reynolds is AUTISTIC!!!!

(At least, I headcanon him as such).

Here's why:

Sensory issues:

If you've watched the show, you probably already know what I mean, but Dennis really struggles to deal with sensory input. When there's a loud noise, he often covers his ears- like in Family Fight:

or he gets frustrated, lashing out at diners for being too loud (The Gang Dines Out), getting annoyed at Frank for chewing gum too loud.

It's worth noting that later on in this episode, Dennis can hear Frank chewing gum from the other room. He's clearly hypersensitive, and perhaps this even goes to explaining a little bit why his room is soundproofed? Could it be that rather than not wanting people to hear what's going on inside, he's desperate to block the noise coming from outside?? (this was suggested by @kod-lyoko , and I LOVE IT).

There are SO many examples of Dennis plugging his ears (often when the others don't react in such a strong way):

There are way too many examples to list here, and too many images I could give (the above were taken from @dennisboobs ' gif set) but hopefully you get the impression.

Social issues:

I feel like this one is pretty self-evident, but I find deconstructing the things Dennis does super fun, so I'm going to explain anyway: Dennis does NOT know how relationships work. There are a great deal of factors at play to cause this (I would argue that his early experiences in life definitely moulded his view in an unhelpful way) but the systematic way he looks at interactions REEKS of autism to me.

The DENNIS system is hardly peak autism representation (it's certainly not the bright and bubbly stuff people often talk about), but the fact that he has a system for romantic/sexual interactions, both for men AND women, feels super autistic-coded. He quite literally has a script which he follows to make interactions easier, one which he sticks to rigidly. And if anybody tries to implement this carefully thought out system incorrectly? Well, he'll let you know (e.g in The Dennis System episode where he blows up at Mac and Charlie for not getting it right at the fair).

He masks his social deficits well, but sometimes things don't go to plan. Sometimes, the girl on the cruise ship runs away, and Dennis announces that 'that's not supposed to happen'.

He comes off as creepy, but that's not his intention. He doesn't understand the way he's perceived by others in general- he thinks he's the King of St Joseph's, not realising he was actually an outcast all along. Just like a lot of autistic people, he didn't understand that he was on the fringes of society until it was thrust in his face, and that hurt.

Speech:

While Dennis often appears to speak pretty normally, there are a few occasions where his frustration causes this mask of normality to slip.

In The Gang Finds a Dumpster Baby, Dennis is caught off guard by the hipster's reading of him, and immediately goes back to Frank and Charlie, parroting almost the same words he heard right back to them, despite not seeming to understand them at all (perhaps a form of echolalia?).

"I'm out here trying to make a difference, and you're over here rummaging around in the trash like a couple of narcs! Okay, you can't just come down here with your mainline cashmere, mousse... quaff... hairspray, and start being like, a suburban tool!"

It's also worth noting that even the poetic way he speaks when he's angry could be a trait ?? As a recently diagnosed autistic person, in my report they spoke about how I used 'idiosyncratic' language (basically, peculiar language lol), and listed terms like 'connoisseur', which I guess were deemed pretty formal for casual conversation.

And it got me thinking, who else do we know who uses VERY idiosyncratic language? Dennis. Reynolds.

"The thunder of my vengeance will echo through these halls, like the gust of a thousand winds"

"Begone, vile man, begone from me!... I am untethered and my rage knows no bounds!"

"You didn't tell me there was to be pollen!"

Etc... etc...

The way he repeats 'savages, idiots!' during his rage at the frat bros feels very autism coded to me. Repetition of certain words and phrases is common!

Heightened emotions:

Again, something that I didn't know until I myself was diagnosed is that for a lot of autistic people, we spend most of the time at a pretty 'flat' emotional state, but when we do experience emotions, we experience them intensely. Frustration turns into anger, sadness turns into despair, happiness turns into ecstasy- it's why some autistic people might be misdiagnosed with bipolar disorder!

This, of course, fits well with the way Dennis experiences emotions. He spends a lot of the time believing he doesn't have any at all, and when he does feel something, it's overwhelming.

"And I have feelings! Of course I have feelings, I have big feelings, okay? And it hurts."

These lines hit hard regardless of the extra weight you put on them, but when you see them through the lens of autism, through the lens of a lifetime of misunderstanding and overstimulation, it makes them hit even harder.

It hurts him to feel. His emotions are so strong that they're painful, and he's never been taught how to deal with them, because nobody even knew he had them in the first place.

Stimming:

Finally, I think Dennis stims. A lot. If you search up 'Dennis Reynolds autistic' on this very site, you'll find gifsets and videos illustrating this.

He has a few very common ones, like tugging on his earlobe when he's anxious, playing with his fingers, etc, but if you pay attention to him even when he's in the background of scenes, you'll pick up on a lot. Dennis is constantly moving, and while you could suggest this is simply a result of Glenn's ADHD, I'd argue that some of these stims happen so frequently in Sunny specifically, that there's no way they're coincidental.

Glenn makes a lot of very specific acting and directorial choices in Sunny, so why dismiss these as choices too?

That's all I can be bothered to type up now, but here's my case for Autistic!Dennis ! Of course, he's a complex character so there's always room for different interpretations...

but as an autistic person, I hereby claim him as One Of Us™.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

Entanglement (1/2)

PAIRING: Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x Medic F!Reader 

A/N: my little contribution to the 141 challenge by the amazing @glitterypirateduck || but I was very tipsy when I wrote this and am very tipsy as I post it sO IT DOESNT COUNT DO NOT PERCEIVE ME || I WILL SOBER WRITE A PART 2 PROMISE

Prompts used: Military Base, Dude in Distress, Take care of each other (helping w/bath, stitches, haircut, sickness, etc.),  “Who did this to you?”

Part 1 || Part 2 || 

____

The base is quiet this time of year—it’s nice.  The quiet is obviously preferable to the chaos, and sometimes you like just sitting with your thoughts in your cozy little nook on base.   There are a handful of people around, all of whom you liked, one of whom you really liked, but you’d bite your tongue off before you ever said that out loud.  Especially to him.  

And it’s like you’ve summoned him by just the power of your thoughts, because he walks into your little office with his hand clenched tight over his bleeding arm (that you had just sutured) and a large smile on his face.  His eyes dart around quickly and then come back to yours happily, grin widening from noting that you were the only one in the infirmary at that moment.  

“You’re a fucking idiot.”  You use your chin to point  at the leaking bandage over his arm, and start to gather your supplies.   

But Soap’s never been one to dwell. “Yeah,” he agrees, easily. “Go’ me here though, didn’ it, bonnie?”

“What happened?  Who did this to you?” 

He leans closer and whispers, conspiratorially.  “Very bad men, bonnie. But ah’ll keep them away from you, promise.”

You shake your head and turn away, having to pretend to grab something from behind you so that your charming, gorgeous hunk of a patient doesn’t see your shy smile.  “You’re bleeding out again, MacTavish.  I need to fix this.  Again.”

“Oh, bonnie, y’er the only who can,” he sighs, dramatically, and.  It’s stupid.  It’s such a stupid fucking line but  you still want to find somewhere to hide, your smile finally spilling out into your cheeks.

MacTavish is a shameless flirt.  Everyone knows this, it’s a very ill-kept secret, not that Johnny would want it to be a secret at all.  It comes naturally to him—stupid words spew out of him and suddenly, you want to cover your heated cheeks with your palms and look anywhere but into his bright blue eyes.    

He waits for you to look back at him, and you have to roll your eyes at the giddy grin he wears on his face.  

“Alright then, sergeant, let’s see the damage, shall we?”

“Oh the damage is far too deep t’fix, luv,” he says, but grins and extends his arm for you to look at anyway.

The sight of his blood-covered arm makes you wince in sympathy, and you start to slowly unwrap the gauze and tape around his arm before you clean his wound.   The wound on his arm looks angry and almost pulses in front of your eyes, and he winces and groans as you begin to suture.   You shush him quietly everytime, and try to concentrate—really, you do—but you can feel his eyes on your face.

When you look back up at him, he doesn’t even do you the courtesy of looking away.  No, the man makes eye contact with you, eyes shining.  

It takes you some effort to rearrange your features into the look of mild tiredness that you wear around him often. “Can I help you, MacTavish?”

“‘Fraid I’m beyond y’help, bonnie,” he grins, cocky and sure, and so fucking handsome.  “Though…y’could go out wi’me.  Might make me hurt less.”

“God,” you say, rolling your eyes.  “You know that I can’t.”  His pout makes you laugh, and you stand up to go wash your hands.  Before you get too far away from him, though, you feel warm fingers wrap around your wrist and squeeze gently. 

“MacTavish,” you whisper.  “We can’t.”  The words are insistent, and you put what feels like considerable effort into sounding like you mean them, but your attention is caught by the slow, almost hypnotic motion of his ridiculously pink tongue wetting his lips.  When your eyes finally meet his, you already know what he’s going to say.        

“You could, though, bonnie.  Y’could go out wi’me.”

“Johnny…”  

“Could make it worth y’while,” he whispers, suggestively, and this time it’s his eyes that linger on your lips before they come back up to meet yours.  “Keep the bad men away from ya, if you'd like”  His words are flirty and unserious, as usual, but God, does he manage to look earnest as he says them. 

"All of them?" you wonder out loud.

His eyes shine as you play along. He considers your words for a moment. "No. Not all of 'em."

“We could be caught,” you counter.  “Won’t your Captain have your head for it?”

“‘N I'd happily go out for you, sweet girl.” 

You shake your head as you write him a prescription for the pain.  “You’re incorrigible. I’m not going to be reassigned because you’re horny, Sgt. MacTavish.”

“Horny,” he gasps in mock-horror. “Horny?  Ahm’ here out of m’mind in love, hen!  Horny, she says!”  He shakes his head and his smile dims a little, but only for a second, before his eyes light up, wickedly. “Consider it.  We’d make bonnie children, aye?”

You freeze because…what is there to even say to that. 

When he kisses your cheek and whistles cheerily on his way out, you do find yourself considering it.

[nothingbutnowhere]

A Simon x reader blurb

Notes: Reader refered to as 'girl' once, mentions of anxiety/hypervigilant symptoms

Edit for typos I wrote this at like 1 am on my phone lol apologies

Your phone was always on silent. No ringtone, no vibration, not even alarms, you had an alarm clock for that, one of the fancy light ones that gradually brightened and played birdsong as the alarm. Given your sensitive startle reflex it made sense to Simon. And it's not like you often missed his calls or texts when he was away. No matter to him.

"Where was that new place you wanted to eat?" you asked from the kitchen, "Kinda out of food right now."

Simon had come home earlier than expected and left you with no time to prepare after a busy week. And considering you'd spent the afternoon and most of the evening rolling around in bed neither of you wanted to cook anyway.

The idea of going out was so much less stressful when Simon was with you. The fear of being perceived, and the fear of the nebulous 'something bad' made exiting your home a no go about 50% of the time. Simon had everything covered though. He could and would handle anything 'bad' and his glare was enough to send wandering eyes away. And seeing Simon straight up not give a fuck helped your thought patterns more than CBT ever did.

"I'll send it"

A few moments later there's a loud notification sound and buzz. Simon nearly jumps, head whipping towards the noise.

He starts to say something but when he sees you with your phone clutched to your chest, familiar red face like you've got caught with your hand in the cookie jar he closes his mouth and waits for the stammered explanation.

"I- it's- um. I have it set for you. When you're gone, guess I forgot to turn it off. It's just so, you know, I don't miss you. I mean miss your calls. I always miss you."

You give him half a smile and it twists Simon's heart, or what's left of it.

He stands and approaches you. Something that most people run away from, but your eyes only get softer and shoulders sag as you melt into his arms. It took time but you broke though his hard shell only to find a teddy bear inside.

"Sweet girl," he murmurs into your forehead before pressing his lips to your skin.

"Handsome boy," you say back, hands gripping the front of his shirt.

"Doin' all that for me? Guess I must be then."

"Mmhm. My handsome boy."

It makes Simon smile when you get possessive over him.

"My sweet girl."

And it makes you hot when he's possessive over you.

You groan.

"Don't start that again or we'll be eating 3am pizza. Or plain spaghetti noodles."

"It's just the truth love."

You break the embrace.

"Well your sweet girl wants dinner," you say with a winning smile.

You tilt your head up and stand on your tiptoes, a silent ask for a kiss.

He swoops in dutifully, but it's only a passing brush.

Asking for kisses is a dangerous game, there's more than one reason your man wears a mask (it's the oral fixation).

You look playfully disappointed but he only gives you his deadpan expression.

You huff and follow him to the door.

Once your shoes are on he does indulge you in another kiss. Deeper this time. Lingering. You give Simon a nip on his bottom lip, something to ache a little bit during dinner while you can't have your lips on him. He smiles, nearly giggles, and gives you a matching one.

A/N: I'm a little rusty, haven't written in a hot sec, but this just kinda plopped into my head. And I have a few other ideas for this soft!simon and anxiety/PTSD/hypervigilant!reader, so maybe I'll continue

...

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

[barrenclan]

I don't know if this song has been suggested yet but 15 Step by Radiohead for Rainhaze? Not just for the "one by one / it comes to us all / it's as soft as your pillow" (in reference to how he perceived death) but if you're willing to skew the optimism in the first verse, I see it as the line where he finally 'realizes' what Defiance is all about - when he finally sheds the Old Rainhaze for the new one by killing Asphodelpaw ("first you reel me out and then you cut the string"). Plus, there's a very on the nose reference that I see Ranger making to him in relation to finding out about Barrenclan ("you used to be alright, what happened? / did the cat get your tongue? / did your string come undone?") which is conveniently immediately before the Death lines.

And with recent developments (I had this ask planned for a while lol) now the "You used to be alright, what happened?" ...Ohhhh that hits. The difference between the mocking tone of Ranger the first time around, and then the second time the verse is repeated, it being cut off with "etcetera, etcetera..." which I either interpret as Rainhaze being unable to finish 'convincing' the rest of Barrenclan because he got interrupted then Tigerstar'd... Much to think about.

Anyway love this comic, been following it (and TDS!) since day 1, can't believe it's been so many years of it. At least one. You have a talent for storytelling!! I can't wait to see what you have planned for the future, big fan!

Haven't heard this one yet! But I'm always happy to get some Radiohead. I'm very flattered you've been enjoying the comic, and following my stories for so long.

Ooh, I always like getting instrumental music recommendations! I've never seen LOST, but both my parents watched it while it was airing. PATFW is definitely a mystery story, although I like to think I got to my resolutions better than JJ did. Giacchino is a great scorer of course, I like how this song is sad, sweet, and a little ominous. Reminds me of Twin Peaks.

Haha yes, it's definitely a popular suggestion for a popular song. But it is very pretty, and I do like the themes of burial and fighting to try and restrain someone who won't be restrained.

You can't keep them all caged They will fight and run away Mother, tell me so I say

Barren curtains that you're weaving Like the stories that you keep inside your head She can't keep them all safe They will die and be afraid

Oh... yeah. Anything with scary angel imagery fits very well for her, because I heavily associate Asphodelpaw with Laura Palmer.

Carry me in your teeth with tender jaws of sympathy (Arrow deep inside the meat Impossible for us to reach)

Shattered in a mist of crippled, angel silhouettes Lift the dirt, and cover me Lay at my side until I'm finally sleeping Until I'm finally sleeping

I like it! Comorantpaw has a strong streak of self-hatred and lately, is very much feeling like he's permanently stained with evil because of his past. But he still wants to be there for Pinepaw, maybe thinking it's all he's good for.

Bitterness is thick like blood and cold as a wind sea breeze If you must drink of me, take of me what you please I am loathed to say it's the devil's taste I've been with the devil in the devil's resting place

Come up here to speak to me and hold your face to mine Any man can hold my gaze has done his job just fine You just sold your life away to be with me tonight Hold your head against my chest, I think you'll be just fine

Classic Glass Animals! I think it captures the feeling of Issue 38 well.

Everything, waiting, shaking as it drops I tried for you and I, for too hard, for too long Gave it all and everything for more time, but I lost

… Ooh, I'm breaking down Whispers would deafen me now You don't make a sound Heartbreak was never so loud

Hahah! Yeah, this fits them well.

What did I do to deserve you? How did you find me? I was already halfway gone You were a bright light You were a fistfight, oh

Our love is older than the Great Wall Our love spins a gun around its finger Our love has found its way into our mouths before Cut our teeth until we swallow it whole

Great Rainhaze song! It gets at that fatalistic, manic energy he has that's especially evident in Issue 37.

Losing my mind It never felt so good to be alive Crucify my name I never felt more famous than today, where I am no one To nothing

Lose your mind baby You'll never feel so good to be alive, I say again I say erase your name, sweet honey You'll never feel more famous than today, where you are no one (no one)

I believe it was suggested a couple years ago with Hush Puppy and Thrasher, but not Rainhaze! It's an interesting angle to make it about him and Ranger.

One last kiss I love you like a broken pot One last kiss I love you like a pack of dogs One last kiss I need you like I need a gaping head wound

[beomiracles]

this may very well be the most important and widely-yearned for request you shall ever receive.

i beg you to fulfill our deepest desires, and make a serene x reader fic. my bias in tubatu, the love of my life.

serene supremacy!

you’ve got your own fandom at this point girl we luv you

「 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐎𝐍 」

DREAM RECALL morning cuddles with your girlfriend were your favorite, when you had nothing to do but be with each other, the world could wait as long as you got to spend another five minutes in her arms. 

wc. 632

pairings serene x gn!reader warnings just fluff, am not writing smut about myself, waking up next to prompt, cuddling, some light kisses/pecks, tiniest bit of suggestiveness, descriptions of my piercings/tattoos, can this count as a written face reveal? idk, established relastionship.. hm don't think I've missed anything !

#serene adds ✎ this is a joke, and meant to be perceived as such ! PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS SERIOUSLY. this does not represent me as a person in any way and is purely written for shits and giggles, (which I had many of), with that said, enjoy and try not to cringe too much :3

anyway, lets all kiss also.

The first rays of sunshine peek through the thin curtains hung on the dainty windows of your small house. Your quaint bedroom becomes basked in a glowing warmth and with a small groan, you stir on the soft mattress. — It takes a moment for your groggy eyes to adjust to the near blinding sun as you blink the last remnants sleep away. 

What time was it? 

Rolling over to reach for your phone on the nightstand, you’re stopped by an arm draped across your waist as Serene pulls you back against her still sleepy form. “Leave it”, she mutters under her breath before letting out a small exhale, the hot puff of air hitting your shoulder. 

A small smile spreads across your lip as you let yourself fall back into her embrace, resting your head on the plush pillow as you study her slumbering figure. — From the blonde hair, reflecting in the sunlight as it fell across her face, to her nose, occasionally scrunching, the silver jewelry on it dangling slightly. 

Unable to resist, you reach out to brush her hair back, revealing the small dots of pigment covering her cheeks as they spread in a small ocean of freckles. The light touch makes her eyes flutter, blonde lashes twitching as grey irises meet yours. — “What?” She wonders, mouth forming into a small pout as the ring around her bottom lip juts forward. 

“Nothing”, you merely shrug, giggling when she throws a leg over your own, pulling herself flush against your chest. “Hm-mhm”, she hums, letting her chin rest on top of your head as her fingers trail down your sides. — “Keep lookin’ at me like that and we’ll never get out of bed.” 

Her words make your face flush with color as you give her shoulder a playful push. “Shut up”, you huff, though letting your hands intertwine with her long hair as you inhale the scent of vanilla radiating from her. — Mornings like these were your favorite, when you had nothing to do but be with each other, the world could wait as long as you got to spend another five minutes in her arms. 

When with her, you began to wonder what was real and what wasn’t. Something like this, so perfect, molded out of pure love, it couldn’t possibly be real could it? — Leaning back slightly, you let the pads of your fingers trail across the butterflies on her collarbone, following their outlines as you imagine them taking off, flying somewhere far away, their soft and frail wings fluttering tenderly. 

But when your gaze returns, they remain engraved on her pale skin and you reminisce the plenty of kisses you had placed to them. — “What’s got your pretty mind so occupied?” Serene wonders as she, too, leans back to study you with a subtle frown. Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head, “just thinking…” 

She emits a small scoff, the press of her lips against your forehead makes your heart race and the feel of cool metal makes your stomach flutter. “You do that a lot”, she hums, her hand soft as it cups your face. — “Tell me”, she then says, her stormy eyes glinting with intrigue, “I want to know your every thought.” 

“That would take forever”, you retort, though pressing a small kiss to her open palm. Serene merely rolls her eyes, “we’ve got all the time in the world”, she presses to which you shake your head once more. “Wrong, we need to be up before noon”, you state as you press a finger to her lips which immediately curl under your skin. 

“Is that a challenge?” She asks and you firmly nod. With a small sigh she retaliates but you catch the mischievous edge to her voice as she says; 

“Bet.”

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[oreosmilkshakes]

Eternally Mine

Pairing: Namor/K’uk’ulkan x reader

Fandom: Marvel- Black Panther Wakanda Forever

Word Count: 1,843

Warning(s): Dark Namor, !!there is spoilers!!, fluff, a little talk about injury

A/N: Honestly, Namor’s real name has me getting crossed eyed. The amount of times I had to check and cross-check to ensure I got his name right is crazy. Anyway, here is the sequel and final story to Forever Mine. I hope this isn’t cringy too ;-; I will push out more writing! Enjoy reading!

Part 1: Forever Mine 

Taglist: NIL

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

[Name] didn’t know exactly how long it has been since Namor whisked her away. The caves of the King’s home were lonely, despite the presence of the guards that protected the premises. The walls were cold but the bed was even colder. She missed the seaside breeze, the heat on her skin and the food. She missed it all. [Name] sat atop the makeshift bed, one made with the most comfortable furs and a really sturdy frame. The occasional drops of water break the silence from time to time. The woman pulled the blanket over her body. It was too cold and a part of her sought the comfort of the King.

[Name] remembered the morning after she was taken. She recalled fighting the King, thrashing against his hold, crying and begging for him to take him back. Namor simply ignored her, throwing her on the bed with a threatening finger.

“Try anything and I will retaliate. Understand?” And all she could do was nod, tears flowing freely. Namor caught a tear, rubbing it between his fore and thumb. “Don’t fear me, mi amor. I don’t want to hurt you but if I have to, I will,” His words were more of a promise than a threat. All the woman did was swallow and nodded, fear covered her heart.

Eventually, [Name] lost track of time. Each time Namor returned home, her voice would soften, refusing to meet his eyes but still acknowledge his presence. On his travels to the outside world, he would return with so many gifts ranging from clothes to exotic jewellery. Her heart melted at his sweet actions and slowly, she began opening up to him. She wore the clothes when he wasn’t around, twirling around to see herself. Her hands rubbed her own arms, smiling softly. As days passed, she realised that perhaps Namor isn’t that much of a threat she may have perceived him to be.

But she never forgot her misery.

Namor entered their shared home, dressed in his elaborate but beautiful cloak. [Name] was laying on their shared bed, turned away from the King.

“In yakunaj,” He called out, moving around the bed. He sat on the edge, a strong hand gently laid on her arm. She didn’t acknowledge him, burying her face in the pillow to ignore him. The bracelet around her wrist caught his eyes and a proud smile spread across his lips. “You wear the bracelet. It brings out your beauty even more,” He tried, in an attempt to get the woman to react but all she did was grumble into the soft pillow.

“Look at me, in yakunaj,” Namor instructed, hand gently squeezing her arm for a reaction. However, she didn’t give him anything.

Namor growled. Her disobedience was getting on his nerves. His large hand ripped the pillow away from her face, grabbing her chin to force her to look at him. Upon laying his eyes on her redden eyes and tear stained cheeks, his anger melted. Furrowed brows relaxed and his jaw muscles eased.

“Mi amor-,”

“Namor, please,” [Name] sniffled, her hands on his broad shoulders now, leaning close to the King.

“Please, just let me see land once more. I-I miss it, Namor,” She hiccuped, chest heaving to hold back more tears from flowing.

“I c-can’t stand it here anymore. I miss the sun, I miss my home, I miss my family. I miss everything up there! Do you understand my predicament? I am suffering here, Namor..Do you understand?” She hiccuped again, slumping her forehead against his shoulder. [Name] had to admit, though, that for a man who spent a majority of his time in saltwater, he did smell good.

“Please, Namor..Please, I am begging you, my King. I will do whatever you want. I will be your wife, I will bear your children but please..let me see the outside world once more. Please, K’uk’ulkan,” She sniffled.

Namor eased up. While he enjoyed her begging and listening to his true name rolling off her tongue like butter, he understood her pain. But he cannot grant her wishes. Not right now, at least.

Unfortunately, Namor had bigger issues at hand. The Wakandans. A new threat had begun to surface and this threat had something to do with his beloved empire and his people. The surface dwellers were meddling with the wrong people and he needed the scientist whose intention was to jeopardise their very secret existence. He had gone to Wakanda with a demand- that they bring the scientist to him or else, when his patience runs out, he will be forced to do things his way. Namor intends to wait for two days before he will take action.

His hands were soft as he brought [Name]’s face off his shoulders. It cupped her chin, eyes soft. “I will grant your wishes,” At that sentence, her eyes widened and lit up, lips parted. She was surprised at the sudden change.

“But..,” The King began again and her expression shifted, anticipating the ever coming disappointment.

“But, there are matters that I have to take care of first before I can do so,”

“W-What sort of matters?”

Namor shook his head slightly. “Nothing you should be concerned with, my love. I will have my soldiers to protect you. Do not leave our home, understand? Can you do this for me?”

[Name] sniffled, wiping her eyes and wore a small smile. “Thank you, my King. I can never repay such generosity,” She leaned back into him and this time, his arms snaked around her waist.

“Being my Queen is enough repayment,”

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

Days passed and [Name] did her best to entertain herself with whatever items Namor left for her. There were guards standing outside the doors of the hut and around it. She was confused with why the excessive amount of protection but she refused to question it.

These empty days gave her time to think about Namor.

And she thought deeply.

Namor was a King of a whole underwater empire. He was like a God to them, even inheriting these powers he had. So why her? What made her so special? What made her so special enough that he wanted her, a human with the inability to breathe underwater, to be the queen of a whole empire?

Then, she remembered.

“K’uk’ulkan is his true name. But the only reason why he chose Namor, was from the words belonging to a surface dweller. El Niño sin Amor. A child without love,” said one of her maidens, who cared for her daily needs.

[Name]’s heart ached for the King. No one deserved to live without love. She couldn’t exactly pinpoint how old he is but to live a life without love? She would rather die than to do so. Her eyes looked down to her arm, where among the bracelet gifted by her King, was a bracelet that belonged to his mother. Her own heart ached to see her mother once more. She missed her and looked forward to seeing her again. The woman had long days to piece the stories together. His mother was the last person to ever love K’uk’ulkan and ever since then, he didn’t love again.

She could love him.

She knew she could.

All the things he did for her was for her best interest and she knew it. His true intention was never to hurt her but to love her. And she will love him.

It had been two weeks or so since K’uk’ulkan had left to attend to his personal affairs and she missed him greatly. [Name] asked the guards everyday on when her love would return but they too couldn’t give her an answer.

A heavy sigh left her lips, K’uk’ulkan’s cloak rested on her shoulders. His scent was wearing off and she frowned deeply.

The sound of rustling pulled the woman out of her thoughts and she found her King stepping through the doors of their shared hut. She gasped, immediately getting to her feet.

“In yakunaj,”

“K’uk’ulkan!”

Both said at the same time. [Name] wore a big smile on her lips and so did he as she rushed to him. His arms wrapped around her waist, face buried into her neck and breathed deeply. “You look magnificent with my cloak on, mi amor,” And just like that, her face reddened. Her hands moved to his back, tightening the hug but he hissed in pain.

[Name] pushed the King away, moving around to his back. Her eyes widened. While most of his back had smooth skin due to his fast healing, there were some deep burnt wounds taking their time to mend and heal.

“What happened?” Her fingers hovered over the wounds, moving down to his lower back where her eyes stopped to his ankle. “Your wing..”

K’uk’ulkan turned to face his queen.

“A battle I shared with another. There is nothing to worry about, my lov-,” “No. Nope. Sit down. I will tend to your wounds,” “Mi amor-,” The King tried to protest but she glared at him.

“Sit down. I mean it,” [Name] moved to the medicinal table, readying the herbs and leaves for his wounds. She returned with a bowl of crushed medicinal herbs, kneeling on the bed behind the King with her hands moving around his back to cover the wounds.

“Two weeks, K’uk’ulkan. You didn’t come back and I got worried,” The woman confessed, her own heart skipping a beat at her own words. She could feel his muscles tense under her touch. She did take her time to admire the broad spread of his back, cheeks reddening once more at her own ogling. Her fingers spread the medicinal herb on the last wound before placing a healing leaf on it. It was time like this that she did miss modern medicine but this herb apparently works wonders.

“Done..” She muttered, leaving to clean her fingers up. K’uk’ulkan stood, eyes watching her every movement, even when she returned to him.

He offered a hand to her and she looked at it. She took it, lacing their fingers together. He didn’t waste any more time, pulling the woman in to capture her lips with his own. Her entire body eased into his touch, melting into the hot kiss. She tilted her head, giving the King more space to deepen the kiss.

[Name] pulled away first, chest heaving slightly.

K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against hers, a small smile on his furry lips.

“Why the change, my love?”

“I heard your stories from the maidens, K’uk’ulkan,” [Name] moved her hand to cup the King’s cheek, thumb caressing the beard with a smile on her lips.

“You may think that you don’t deserve love, especially after the life you lived and the things you have seen. But..,”

The woman tiptoed a little, planting a soft kiss to his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone now.

“Even a God needs love,”

The King smiled widely, pulling his queen in for another deep kiss.

[Name] vowed that she would belong to K’uk’ulkan...eternally.

[beesmygod]

i only read tumblr once a day because i [try] to stay sane so only just caught up with the art discourse, which I do have some bits n shit I want to add: a bit fasile for one but, dont you as an artist have upkeep and resource needs to produce? even if its just like...computer, tablet and necessities to continue existence because art takes time to make, those are real, and cost money. "art" in an absolute sense can be made for free with minimal time through just thinking, but like, a webcomic that is a physical thing made of electronic patterns and hosted on a server, takes time and takes stuff. "Webcomics" isnt a free infinitely repeating resource, and you are more than a machine to create webcomic, and none of us are infinite as a resource! at worst, art hits public domain eventually. that said even from that place of survival in capitalistic society it DOES make sense to at least have free public facing art as PROMOTION even if its just idk downtime sketches, doodles, memes, fanart etc so like im not 100% disagreeing yknow, and I am not and artists cant be a paying consumer my/their own art, art has to exist for the self too, the self that isnt a "paying class", or i just start making marvel movies and then its time to find my cool wet hole in the dirt and express my creative individuality like im a mathmatician of statistical analysis of fluid dynamics.

now that im awake i was going to answer these point by point, but this kind of flies past my point that making art exclusively for those who pay is abysmal and treating your audience like they're thieves is a poisonous and off-putting response to one's perceived "loss of income" (which is not even theft because the item being "stolen" can be reproduced infinitely. im talking about like a digital image like a comic page and not a physical item where there's limited copies lol). people either want to pay you or they dont; you can't force people to pay you by making access to your work harder, worse, more inconvenient, and more degrading to your audience. you can't induce artificial scarcity and be a good person.

like yeah obviously art production takes money. that's why most artists work desk jobs instead of trying to make it a solo venture and just expecting the world around them to pick up their slack. i didn't come out of a lotus blossom with a tablet ready to go, i worked desk jobs from age 15-24 in order to have enough savings to cushion myself if need be and pay for base supplies. i use tablets and items gifted/sold to me at a steep discount by my friends. i lived really poor in order to have the life i wanted. and i really loved it lol. i still think of that time so fondly.

once the comic is produced and posted, it is free for my audience to look at and the reproduction costs of the finished image is 0 dollars. it can be copied and reposted freely without charge. it costs me basically nothing to host. the production costs are currently covered by patreon donations. if they were no longer covered by patreon donations i would get a desk job instead of making my choice to go into the financially unsuccessful field of the arts my audience's personal problem to solve. if i don't make things people want to buy, that's my problem and not my audience's.

yeah, it would suck to have to stop doing this because its no longer financially viable (it is really financially hard right now; the state of the world around us is not conductive to the patreon life), but i wasn't entitled to it anyway. i get to make art for a living bc i have an audience that permits me to. why would i start treating them like dogshit or lying about value of my work to squeeze extra money out of them after what they gifted me?

[verona2314]

Judgment of the Damned (translation) Chapter 18

link chapter 17

Summary:

In the realm of Limbo, where souls deemed too good for Hell but not virtuous enough for Heaven reside, Victoria finds herself thrust into an unprecedented mission. When a notorious sinner, Sir Pentious, achieves redemption and ascends to Heaven, it sends shockwaves through all realms. Tasked with unraveling this mystery, Victoria, a minor judge of souls, is sent to the infamous Hazbin Hotel in Hell. For the first time, an emissary from Limbo steps foot into the fiery depths, tasked with observing and judging the denizens of Hell for their potential for redemption. As Victoria navigates this unfamiliar territory, she captures the unrequired attention of the enigmatic Radio Demon, Alastor. Amidst the chaos of demonic antics and the pursuit of understanding redemption, Victoria must confront her own beliefs and judgments. As she delves deeper into the secrets of the Hazbin Hotel, Victoria uncovers hidden truths about sinners, redemption, and the ultimate fate of souls caught between damnation and salvation. With each soul she encounters, Victoria's journey becomes not only a quest for answers but a personal voyage of self-discovery in the heart of darkness.

Chapter 18: Complications

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Hello! This time I'm posting a bit earlier because I won't have signal over the weekend. I wish you all the best! As always, thank you for reading and don't hesitate to leave your comments.

What has been your favorite chapter, scene, or dialogue?"

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Aody's Diary

What Is Happening to Me? Is a fog covering my thoughts? Why can’t I say anything coherent? Why have I been reduced to a professional babbler? What have you done to me? Why do I long for your face, your smile, your scent, and your gaze? Why do I desire you with such overwhelming intensity?

My ordeal began after my conversation with Seilmon. At first, he didn’t seem very convinced, but after presenting my arguments, he agreed to give me permission to descend into hell. I had heard many rumors from the minor judges who dealt with the beings of those realms more frequently. However, the scene I encountered was very different from what I had imagined.

Hell is nothing like heaven. It is dirty, chaotic, noisy, and unrestrained... but it is also full of vigor and unpredictability, which fills me with excitement. Red is abundant, but in shades so varied I never imagined possible. It is a marvelous color. Unfortunately, my first day was not incident-free as on more than one occasion they tried to take advantage of my naivety. I am sure Dagmar will be furious when she finds out… Anyway, luckily, a friendly imp took me to Lucifer’s palace, sparing me further setbacks. Once there, I expected to be received by an imposing, firm, and confident king of hell. Instead, I found a nervous, cheerful, and friendly Lucifer. The one who really surprised me was Lilith. The first woman stood with admirable elegance and dignity, demonstrating a strong will and the desire to rise as high as possible despite her situation. Her enigmatic smile and gaze allowed me to perceive great cunning and intelligence. And I could only feel that she and Lucifer were, indeed, the perfect couple. Could it be that the Almighty planned it that way?

Without digressing much, I understood that the one who had directed the growth and development of hell was the queen, with the support of Lucifer, although the archangel seems increasingly dim and pessimistic, which contrasts with Lilith’s enthusiasm. She carries a great weight on her shoulders. I hope Lucifer can find relief in his sadness, because otherwise, it will only consume him, slowly taking away every source of joy in his complex reality.

Lilith received me with great kindness and enthusiasm. We talked a lot about the future of hell. Some of her ideas seemed extreme to me. Allowing direct contact between sinners and minor judges of Limbo to speed up processes? Impossible. No supreme judge would allow it. I didn’t want to break her illusions, so I just listened attentively… It was very intriguing.

Late at night, the queen of hell introduced me to a member of the nobility. Prince Seire, in command of 26 legions. The only word that came to mind when I saw him was “beautiful.” Seire was tasked with guiding me through hell and being my escort. At first, I had doubts because I had no idea how to interact with his kind, but the noble turned out to be someone of good nature, indifferent to good and evil, a lover of horseback riding, and with a great sense of humor. As the days went by, I began to miss his presence and long for our rides. Every word that came out of his mouth hypnotized me with an ease I am ashamed of. He helped me see that sinners were not inherently evil creatures devoid of all light, but rather humans who had made bad decisions and that, given the right circumstances, everyone was capable of vile acts. I understood that absolute evil was an exception.  Seire’s compassion was a balm for my soul. I had never felt understood by anyone. We both seek the best in people and to ease the pain their wounds cause them. I am captivated by the prince and the tenderness he shows in caring for his son. He is a wonderful father. But lately, I cannot control these feelings, and my brain stops working whenever he is near, even worse when he smiles at me with that mischievous look, making the charm of those eyes shine even more! I don’t want to return to Limbo; I don’t want to be away from him. But on the other hand, my heart aches because I see no way for Seire to reciprocate these feelings. How could he? I am a Supreme Judge of Limbo. I cannot have preferences or bonds. Besides, I am just a weak sentimentalist, as Dagmar would say. Despair is painful, but the addictiveness of these emotions prevents me from staying away. I am... I am in love. Seire is my curse, and I love it.

Vox

“SHIT!” he exclaimed, sitting in his office. How was it possible that the judge had rejected his invitation to appear on television? It was humiliating and unacceptable. Who did she think she was? Didn't she realize the great opportunity she was missing? It’s not like she had refused to have a conversation with him, but she wanted nothing to do with spotlights and cameras. The worst part was that her popularity was increasing just because she was a novelty and, of course... her skills.

“If you keep yelling like that, your antenna is going to get damaged,” Valentino mocked. “Why do you care so much about this judge?”

“Because she’s a valuable ally,” Vox replied with some brusqueness. He had been in a bad mood for days, and his patience was exhausted. “You’ve seen what she’s capable of. And according to the information obtained, she could modify or even nullify a contract. Do you realize how dangerous and beneficial that is? But the damn bitch won’t cooperate!”

“Hmm, is that really all there is to it? Or is there something more?” Valentino asked, lighting a cigarette.

“What do you mean by that? Of course not! It just makes my blood boil that fucking Alastor got into my plans again and ruined everything with his shitty radio.”

“Ah, I see. Does it bother you that the deer has a new toy? Do you want to take it from him? You’re being a bit petty.”

“Don’t say stupid things!” Vox grumbled, crossing his arms as he turned his chair to look out the window. Partly, Valentino was right. He hated that Alastor made her appear on his broadcast. Not only because it had ruined his plans, but also because it showed a certain camaraderie on the radio demon’s part, and knowing him, it wasn’t out of mere altruism. No. Alastor had an interest in the judge, and Vox wouldn’t allow him to obtain it. The problem was that he couldn’t even figure out what that interest was. Besides, deep down, he felt a certain envy because Alastor had never invited him to his show.

“You two don’t know how to think,” Velvette grumbled, miraculously taking her eyes off her phone for a few moments. “Don’t you know that fast fame is easy to tear down? Ruin her reputation, and she’ll come crying to you to fix her image. Or find some secret of the bitch and blackmail her with revealing it. The only thing that matters is that she’s not on the side of the princess or that Bambi, because that’s a risk for us and our plans.”

Val nodded in approval of the girl’s words, but Vox felt his irritation grow. He took a deep breath before letting out a long sigh and smiling.

“Velvette, dear,” he said in a conciliatory voice. “Do you think I didn’t think of that? But it turns out, ehem, impossible to discover something about a person who has NEVER lived here. She’s a fucking being from Limbo. A CELESTIAL. If she had any stain, that information would be guarded in Limbo.”

“And an enemy from the past, perhaps?” interrupted an unknown voice that echoed throughout the office in a deep and unnatural tone.

Vox immediately turned towards the voice. It was a hooded figure whose presence he hadn’t noticed. How had he managed to enter without being noticed? The intruder walked slowly until he took a seat in front of his desk. Vox felt a chill run through his body. This person did not have good intentions.

“Who the fuck are you?” Valentino said threateningly, pointing one of his guns at the unwanted guest.

“No one important. I’ve just come to negotiate,” replied the enigmatic presence. “I recommend putting that toy away.”

“Toy? You’re going to see your mother fucki…”

“Val,” Vox interrupted, looking around. Velvette seemed calm, but all her attention was focused on the strange visitor. Vox felt a drop of sweat run down his back. He tried to identify any features under the hood, but it was complete darkness. However, he was interested in hearing the proposal, so he made every effort to compose himself. “So, you said an enemy from the past?”

“Precisely,” the stranger continued. His voice was neutral and androgynous. “A resident of hell who arrived a couple of years ago. He holds a lot of grudge against the dear judge.”

“What? That doesn’t make sense,” Velvette interrupted. “Why would a mere sinner have issues with a judge from Limbo? It’s the first time one has come to hell.”

“I can’t blame you for your ignorance,” the mysterious person said simply. “It’s not the first time an emissary from Limbo has walked among us. But that has nothing to do with Judge Victoria. But this sinner… is a ticking time bomb.”

“I imagine none of this is free. What do you want in return?” Valentino inquired.

“For the moment, just to cause her some problems. She is a… risk to my interests. Find the sinner I’m talking about, and you’ll be able to discover the secrets of the judge. That way, you’ll have her eating out of the palm of your hands.”

“I don’t buy that you just want to bother her a little. You want her out of the game,” Vox deduced. He didn’t like being told half-truths. Besides, he had to try to get some benefit out of the situation. But the mysterious person did not respond. Instead, he stood up and slowly walked towards the door. Vox sighed. It seemed he hadn’t had any luck. He didn’t like the idea of getting involved with someone who gave him such a bad vibe, but he didn’t have a better option. “What is the name of the sinner?”

“Joshep Cooper,” the person replied, opening the door. “Regarding your observation… in short, what I want is simple. Eliminate all the judges of Limbo,” his interlocutor confessed, revealing for a few seconds a macabre smile before closing the door and disappearing from his sight.

Vox’s eyes were fixed on the door, shocked by what he had just heard. Was his sound input damaged? Had he heard correctly? Was it possible to erase a celestial from Limbo from existence?

“What the fuck?” Velvette exclaimed, checking her phone. “He doesn’t appear on the security cameras,” she pointed out, showing her companion the screen of her phone, which displayed different frames with the camera recordings.

“Ghosts don’t exist, right?” Valentino said, shaking off a shiver.

“Of course not,” Vox confirmed with some doubt in his voice. Who was this person? Or rather, what?

Victoria

The embrace had been more than unexpected. Alastor leaned closer to her, while the crackling air indicated an unspoken tension. Her amber eyes widened in surprise, remaining completely still, trying to process the situation. Were the walls of the radio demon crumbling? If so, what were the implications? Confusion swirled within her. The broadcaster's touch was surprisingly warm, sending a shiver throughout her being. It was a sensation she couldn’t fully decipher, a mix of surprise and a strange, unfamiliar warmth. Her ears were deafened by the erratic beating of her own heart against her chest. This wasn’t part of the plan.

“What the hell are you doing to me, Victoria?” Alastor’s voice growled in a low tone against her ear, laden with raw emotion that sent shivers through her again. He was not the calculating and mocking being she had come to know. His words were a stark contrast to his usual confident behavior.

“Alastor, I…”

He interrupted her, his voice close to her ear again. “Don’t answer. Just... stay still.” His grip tightened, a possessive embrace that comforted and unsettled her at the same time. The conflicting emotions were as disturbing as the sudden change in the red demon’s behavior. “How dare you, Victoria?... How can you bring old memories to the surface with such audacity? Do you want to lay bare the scars of past wounds? Are you willing to resort to something so perverse just to achieve your goal? I should be angry with you, but instead… I want to hear more.”

Victoria was speechless, but curiously, a strange sense of calm washed over her. She decided to interrupt the moment with a soft yet firm voice. “I am trying to understand you, Alastor. Maybe my method was rough, but sometimes the past holds the key to understanding the present. It’s my duty to understand you.”

“Your duty?” the broadcaster responded, chuckling dryly, producing a humorless sound. “Very... proper of a judge, Victoria. Always so focused on maintaining order and propriety, aren’t you?” He pulled back slightly, his crimson eyes searching hers.

“Perhaps, in your case, the curiosity you stir in me plays an important role,” she admitted, looking away. Had she gone too far with her methods? “You are an enigma, a walking contradiction. You claim to find amusement in chaos, yet you possess a knowledge that borders on... depth. You crave control, but seem disturbed by a connection from your past.”

Alastor laughed, a low rumble that vibrated through her. It wasn’t the cruel, mocking laugh she had heard before. This one had a touch of something else. “Depth, hmm?” The radio demon tilted his head. “Perhaps you give me too much credit, dear judge. Or perhaps... not enough. And a connection?” He continued, this time mocking, his voice tinged with a bitterness that seemed forced. “Don’t be ridiculous. That bridge burned a long time ago.”

Victoria shook her head. That couldn’t be. His abnormal reaction was evidence that the memory of his mother still caused something strong within him. “Do you really believe that the being who existed before the Radio Demon, the one with a name chosen with love, is completely lost?” Victoria insisted, cursing herself. Why couldn’t she hold her tongue? Alastor was right. She had brought up the topic of his mother knowing it could cause him pain. She felt guilty, but something inside her prevented her from stopping.

“What do you know of that being, Victoria?” Alastor responded, snorting with disdain. “He disappeared a long time ago, consumed by hell in life and in this existence. Life, no, existence itself is a crucible. It strips away illusions, leaving only the raw core of a being. What you see before you is the mere product. There is nothing more.”

“The past shapes us, Alastor. Even someone like you.” The Overlord’s gaze flickered momentarily with a glint that Victoria caught, a glimpse of something dark and turbulent beneath the surface. It was fleeting but solidified the judge’s suspicions. Alastor was not just a sadistic showman. There was depth to him, a well of pain he desperately tried to hide.

Alastor snorted, but there was a flash of something in his eyes, a spark of something she couldn’t yet define. “You delve too deeply, my dear Victoria. Be careful not to lose yourself in the abyss you seek to explore. You’re walking a dangerous path. Delving into the past is a pastime best left to the damned,” the broadcaster responded, leaving her at arm’s length. Victoria couldn’t decipher the emotions swirling in those crimson eyes. Was this a power play, a calculated move to destabilize her, or something else?

“And you,” she replied, meeting his gaze with defiance, “be careful not to let the abyss consume you entirely. There is still a spark of light within you, Alastor. Don’t you feel it? Even the most cynical heart can yearn for something more.” She met his gaze head-on.

“You are... troublesome,” the Overlord finally whispered, his voice rough with unexpressed emotions. He remained silent, his expression neutral. The tension in the air was palpable, dense, and heavy. Then, with a sigh that seemed to shake the very room, Alastor released her. “You see through me, Victoria. You see things no one else has seen.”

Victoria felt her heart race at that confession. What was happening? “You’re not completely lost, Alastor. I don’t know if there’s a possibility of redemption for you. But for now, my judgment is that you’re not a hopeless case.”

“Ha! Hope? That persistent fly that has a way of buzzing at the edges of even the most jaded soul. But let me assure you, Victoria, I harbor no illusions. This place is a cesspool, and its inhabitants are no better. You’re wasting your time. There’s no redemption to be found here, only the slow and agonizing decay of all that is good and decent.”

“Alastor,” Victoria insisted, “this unexpected... event tells me that maybe you yearn for something more than simple entertainment. Perhaps you crave a connection, someone who understands the darkness within you, just as you seem to understand the complexities within me.”

Suddenly, Alastor pulled away, the warmth of his presence disappearing like a cruel phantom. His voice, when he spoke, was laden with a barely concealed growl. “Do not mistake this, Victoria,” he said, his words sharp and cutting. “What happened changes nothing. This is nothing more than a simple game, a way to pass the time in this monotonous existence. My goals remain unchanged.”

For some reason, Alastor’s words made her feel a pang of pain and shame. For the first time in a long while, Victoria let her emotions flow through her facial expressions. “So do mine! But walls have a way of crumbling, don’t they? Even yours. You can’t deny that your behavior is... out of line,” she blurted out without thinking.

Victoria felt a slight dizziness when a flash of something resembling pain crossed Alastor’s features before his expression returned completely to a mask of indifference. “Out of line, you say?” he mocked, a sardonic edge to his voice. “Maybe it’s you who’s out of line, Judge. Didn’t you come here seeking to understand the depths of Hell? Well, consider this a glimpse into the abyss.”

The broadcaster’s words were laced with a bitterness that surprised her, but her pride overcame the shock. Victoria narrowed her eyes, refusing to be intimidated. “Exactly, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate deceit and manipulation,” she retorted. “If there’s going to be any understanding, it has to be built on honesty and transparency, things you seem to reject even though you secretly crave them.”

Alastor’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint emerging in them. The air crackled with sudden tension. Just when Victoria braced herself for his anger, a slow smile spread across his face. “You’re persistent, aren’t you, Judge?” he laughed, the sound devoid of amusement. “Very well. Perhaps you’ve earned a glimpse behind the curtain. But be careful, Victoria; what you see may not be what you expect. And don’t be surprised if all you find is a bottomless abyss that consumes everything it touches.”

Victoria sighed, giving in. She took a few steps back, needing air, feeling her head heavy with the frustration Alastor caused her. It wasn’t just his persistent refusal to acknowledge that there was more to him than he believed. No, it was also the conflict of emotions his proximity caused. Was she attracted to him? How foolish. Alastor only sought to manipulate her with his sudden gesture, to unbalance and leave her vulnerable. She reprimanded herself for her weakness, gritting her teeth to contain the shame. Frowning, she looked at the radio demon to give, hopefully, her final response. “Trust, even in its most fragile form, is a necessary foundation for any kind of... collaboration.”

Alastor let out a sharp sigh, a sound that seemed laden with frustration and something deeper, more unsettling. Victoria wanted to walk away, to create as much distance between them as possible, but to her surprise, Alastor gently took her wrist.

“Victoria...” he called softly, almost a whisper, as one of his hands rested on her cheek and then slid tremulously to her nape, tangling his long fingers in her brown hair. “You speak of trust and transparency, but you can’t even tell me why your blood isn’t silver. You want to tear down my walls without giving me a bit of that trust.”

She opened her eyes wide, her pupils trembling as she studied Alastor’s face. He had a very valid point. How hypocritical she had been. The radio demon’s eyes seemed to show genuineness despite that usual smile remaining. How could he have such expressive eyes? She wanted to believe his words, to trust, but she simply couldn’t. She couldn’t blindly place her trust in someone, not again. Moreover, she couldn’t ignore that the reason why Alastor had hugged her remained a mystery. Was it a desperate attempt at control, a moment of vulnerability, a test of her resolve, or perhaps something else? Now wasn’t the time to take risks. If she made a mistake, the entire redemption project and the potential purgatory could be reduced to ashes. She needed to be the judge first, not Victoria.

“Alastor... Our interactions have been... stimulating, to say the least. But I think it would be wise to maintain a professional distance,” she stated, forcing herself to regain her calm and dignified demeanor.

Disappointment flickered across Alastor’s face, a flash so quickly masked by his usual theatricality that Victoria almost doubted she had seen it at all. “Professional distance, you say?” He chuckled, an uncomfortable sound. “How fitting of you. The problem, my judge, is that your closeness brings me calm. It relaxes me. Our conversations entertain me so much that I always look forward to the moment we can match wits again. Your depth of thought fascinates me. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? But I think the way you challenge me makes me question many things about myself, and in doing so, I’ve come to know myself better.”

"What are you trying to say? What do you want from me?" Victoria's head was spinning. Her stomach felt tight, and she had an urgent need to breathe.

"I don't know. But you can't deny there's a mutual understanding between us. With just one look, you can understand many things about me, and I about you. I'm your greatest ally, Victoria, don't forget that. You can flutter around Hell, meeting sinners, attending concerts and events, but at the end of the day, the only one who can see all that you are, is me. That includes your darkness, that ambitious side of yours. You'd do well not to neglect our friendship, my dear Judge."

Victoria could feel Alastor's hand sinking deeper into her hair, causing her heart to beat faster. Could it be that the radio demon genuinely appreciated her as more than just a pawn in his game? No. It couldn't be. The judge prayed it wasn't the case because otherwise, everything would be much more complicated. There was too much at stake to think about feelings, especially if they involved the radio host. He was a dangerous variable.

Victoria took another deep breath to suppress the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts invading her. She delicately removed Alastor's hand and then spoke to him in a detached voice, "I wasn't aware our camaraderie had turned into friendship. But I suppose that's no problem. Being you, I don't think I have another choice."

"Oh, don't think I decided this willingly, Judge. Some things just naturally arise whether we can avoid them or not," Alastor replied, returning to his usual self, as if unaffected by Victoria ignoring his moment of honesty” or dismissed it.

Victoria didn't respond to the radio demon's statement, who calmly walked over to the corner shelves filled with boxes. He picked one up and examined its contents.

"Aha! As always, Rosie was right," Alastor exclaimed enthusiastically. "This color definitely suits you better. I must say, dear, I'm looking forward to going to the concert with you. Oh, don't give me that confused look, Victoria. Do you really think I'd let you go alone, knowing how exposed you'll be? Your companion might try to take advantage of you in the darkness of the theater."

"What on earth are you talking about now, Alastor?" she replied, using all her willpower not to lose patience. "Don't you get tired of inventing problems?"

"Invent?" Alastor exclaimed, feigning dramatic offense. "Of course not. Who do you take me for? I have evidence that substantiates and supports my concern."

"What evidence?" she replied, crossing her arms.

"Your appearance in a magazine and its list proclaiming that you, dear Judge, are among the most... coveted women in the city. Aren't you going to admit that's concerning?"

"You! That... I...," Victoria tried to string together something coherent, but the sensation of her cheeks reddening with embarrassment disrupted her concentration. "Don't exaggerate. They put me at number 100. The last place."

"Yes, true. How unfortunate for you, isn't it?" Alastor said mockingly.

"Don't mock me! Besides, why do you even know that? Don't tell me you read those kinds of magazines. I didn't expect that from you," she inquired, attempting to strike back.

"Of course not! I don't waste my time reading those absurd and unrefined magazines that Angel enjoys so much. It's my personal cross to burn each one of them," the radio demon replied, frowning. Victoria raised an eyebrow, not understanding why he had such a strong aversion to a few sheets of paper. Alastor cleared his throat and adjusted his coat. "Anyway. I'll go with you to that concert. One can never be too cautious. Who's your companion?"

"Alastor, I don't have a companion as such. The pianist invited me to the concert," Victoria finally said, letting Alastor know there was no reason for him to worry.

"Splendid! It means there's no seat taken next to you. All for your safety, dear Judge."

Victoria was about to protest when she heard the door open. Rosie peeked her head in and smiled broadly at them.

"Sorry for taking so long," the Overlord said. "There were many customers. Did you at least make good use of the time?"

"Definitely, dear. Very productive," Alastor replied, walking toward the stairs without waiting for Victoria. "But I would advise you, dear Rosie, to be careful when going down to the basement. You wouldn't want to end up locked in there the next time."

"I'll keep that in mind," replied the owner of the emporium with a wide smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TAGLIST!!

@slytherin4ever

@empressofashed ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[gabriel-xander]

Don't Forget

[Sans x Female!Reader]

7: Your Mom Paid Me to be Your Friend (but She Forgot to Pay Me)

♪⁠────✿⁠(⁠✧◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕✧⁠)✿⁠────♪

You yawn dramatically, stretching your arms above your head but you end up knocking your knuckles harshly on the headboard above you.

Ouch.

That certainly woke you up. You reluctantly pull yourself out of bed, just sitting there for a moment with your eyes closed. You… You don’t feel like doing anything today, if you’re honest. You and Toriel made plans today to go buy groceries to try making a recipe you found in one of her books. Now that you’re actually awake though, you don’t want to do anything. You just want to waste away in bed for today.

You’re sure you’ll have more energy tomorrow-

Knock Knock Knock.

You cover your mouth with your elbow when you yawn again, “Yes?”

Toriel opens the door and enters the room with a smile, “Good morning, my child. Nice to see you are already waking up.”

“My body is getting into the habit of waking up at this time, I guess,” You reply, smiling at her, “Are we going out for breakfast again today?”

“I–Yes,” Toriel’s smile becomes a bit strained at your tone, “Take your time to get dressed as always, alright?”

“Mhm.”

She leaves the room swiftly and closes the door behind her. Her smile drops to an expression of sadness immediately. Toriel is sure that you didn’t mean to, but your tone was so exhausted, and not the type of exhaustion that came from drowsiness. You’re getting tired of routine already. You need something new.

Toriel takes a deep breath, nods to herself, and hardens her resolve. It’s going to be fine, you’re going to be fine. After all, there’s someone she wants you to meet (again) after breakfast.

⁠────

You tilt your head to the right.

Napstablook tilts his head (rather, the top part of his body) to the right.

You tilt your head to the left.

Napstablook tilts his head to the left.

You straighten up.

Napstablook also straightens up.

You grin, “Hey, man! You’re that ghost from my second day here, the one who’s really good at fake sleeping!”

The ghost perks up with a little smile, “you remembered me…?”

“Of course I did! You’re one of a kind, you know,”

A red, ghosty blush appears on his cute little face. As you and Toriel returned from breakfast, you were surprised to see Napstablook just waiting outside, lying down and (presumably) feeling like garbage while a song blasted from his headphones. When he noticed you two, he swiftly got up, and his headphones disappeared somehow.

Wow. That was pretty cool. You have no idea how he did that.

“um… i was wondering if… if you would like to hang out…” The ghost asks awkwardly, “but i understand if you don’t want to… no pressure…”

“Wait, really?” You smile wide, “Yeah, that’d be great, dude! Oh, I’m [Y/n] [L/n], by the way. But just [Y/n] is fine.”

Yep! Napstablook already knows, but he nods anyway.

“i am napstablook, but you can call me blook, or blooky…” He looks at Toriel, “if it’s okay, i’ll take [y/n] to my favorite music store here in the ruins…”

You expect your girl-dad to interject and say no, but to your surprise, she’s wearing a happy smile and nodding. “Of course! Though, I must ask you, Napstablook, to please take care of her. As you know, monsters might be eager to fight a human, and I cannot bear knowing she’ll be hurt.”

“of-of course… miss toriel…”

“Just Toriel is fine.”

“right…” Napstablook looks at you with a nod, “if you’re ready now, we can get going…”

You blink, “Oh, right! Uh, wait–my clothes…”

You’re not wearing your striped dress right now. Of course, during your time here, Toriel was more than happy to take you shopping and even made a few things for you as well. She understands you don’t want to be perceived as a child 24/7 so the only other striped clothing item you have are some ugly socks you got. Right now you’re just wearing simple dark leggings with an oversized purple sweatshirt.

If you’re going out with someone who isn’t Toriel, wouldn’t it be safer to switch into your dress? (The whole “it’s a monster’s custom that children wear striped shirts” thing and Toriel believing monsters might not be as aggressive if you’re a kid.)

“I think it should be fine, my child,” Toriel says, knowing your concerns, “After all, I’m sure Napstablook will make sure to take good care of you.” She gives the ghost a deadly glare, “Correct? You will make sure to do your best to protect my dear [Y/n], will you not?”

Poor Napstablook tears up, “yes! yes, i-i-i will…!”

“Hey, hey, hey! No need to be so strict, T!” You laugh nervously, stepping in between her and the ghost, “You’re forgetting that I’m a tough cookie! I’m not gonna hurt anyone, and no one is gonna hurt me. Besides, I think most of the monsters here in the Ruins have seen me with you and will know better than to try anything even if you’re not around.”

She sighs, “Yes, perhaps you are right. But still, both of you, be good, alright?”

“We will,” You’re about to put your arm behind Napstablook to redirect him away, but you remember that you’d phase right through, “Anyway, let’s get going, Blooky.”

He nods frantically, floating by your side as you two begin to leave back to the city. Toriel balls up her fists, trying to suppress her anxiety.

You’re right…You’re right, you are very resilient and you tend to stand your ground even with Toriel. It’s not so much that she’s worried the other monsters will attack you, they’ve all gotten to know your face, and even greet you casually now.

Toriel is just nervous because of that flower monster that almost killed you the first day you arrived here. There still has been no sign of it, and it’s the main reason why Toriel wants you to stay in the house if she’s not out accompanying you instead. Hopefully, Napstablook will take what Toriel asked of him yesterday very seriously.

⁠──

Toriel was outside, sweeping up the fallen leaves from the tree again. She knows that it’s an endless cycle of the leaves falling, so she focuses on making sure the leaves are neat and don’t look out of place. You had turned in early for the day, and are sleeping peacefully.

“I spent all day trying to do some personal research on souls from your books. Did you know that all human souls contain something called Determination?”

You were telling her yesterday, books scattered around you and the floor with your notebook (that she bought for you) in front of yourself. You were in the lounge area on the floor, scribbling notes while looking through the books. You never liked sitting in the big chair since “that’s Chariel, the beloved living room chair,” so Toriel had put out a rug on the floor to make it a little more comfortable for you.

“I wanna take a nap though. I know it’s annoying, but can you NOT clean this up?” You asked her while getting up, “I wanna pick up where I left off later, and I don’t wanna lose my spot. But I used enough brain power the last hour, I’ve earned a little nap.”

You did not take a little nap, you passed the fuck out. Still, Toriel respected your wishes and left the books on the floor. Since you slept so early, Toriel decided to take this time to tidy up outside.

That’s when a friendly little ghost sauntered up the house. He looked extremely nervous, but Toriel was more focused on her mystery friend finding the right ghost so soon! She straightened up and cleared her throat.

“Welcome, welcome. You must be the ghost from all those weeks ago,” She sets the broom aside against the tree, “I am Toriel, thank you for taking the time to come here.”

“oh… it’s no problem…” Napstablook purposely avoided Toriel’s eyes from anxiety, and if he had hands, he’d nervously be fidgeting with his fingers, “did… did i do something wrong…?”

“Oh, no! Not at all. On the contrary, I’d like to talk to you to ask for a favor.”

“a favor…?”

“As you know, there is a human that is staying with me. Her name is [Y/n] and she has been here for almost a month now.”

“ah, right…” Napstablook nodded, “that human child who believed in my fake sleeping… she was really nice…”

“Yes, about that. She…” Toriel took a deep breath, “[Y/n] is not a child, she is a grown woman. She and I both have our hesitation when it comes to her interacting with the other monsters for this reason. Not only that but there is a particular monster that has it out for her.”

Wait, so you’re not a kid? But what about that striped dress you were wearing? Don’t you know only kids wear striped shirts? Well… Yeah, okay. You’re a human, you wouldn’t know that. Still, it makes sense why Toriel was giving him the stinky eye when he first met you. If monsters have no problem killing a child whenever one falls into the Underground, then of course they might be harsher when it comes to an objectively scarier adult.

“[y/n] isn’t a mean human, is she…?”

“No, she is rather kind. She has her… eccentric moments, for sure. And perhaps her humor can be… not for everyone, but she is a kind human,” Toriel shook her head dejectedly, “Which is why I cannot fathom why there is a particular monster who is after her so violently.”

Napstablook, for some reason, can only think of Sans.

“wha-what do you mean…? what monster?”

“There is some type of flower monster that nearly killed her were it not for me interfering just in time.”

Phew. Oh, okay. So NOT Sans.

…

That is still concerning, though.

“I can’t be too careful when it comes to her safety, so I made sure to only allow her to leave the house as long as I accompanied her. But… As you may be able to guess, the lack of new companions and staying indoors so often can be rather lonely for a human like her. Not even my companionship can help her.”

Toriel took a deep breath, “So if it’s all the same to you, I would appreciate it if you could spend some time with her out in the city–here in the Ruins. And make sure she stays safe as well. She expressed once or twice that she was interested in getting to know you, so I figured if I were to ask anyone, it would be you.”

…

…

Huh?

Is… Is Toriel basically asking him to be your friend and your bodyguard?? That’s all she wants from him? Sans made him think something super serious was going to go down, or that he’d have to be careful of the human trying to murder his face. Toriel has no reason to lie to him about the human’s nature. And just like he suspected, you’re kind and Toriel agrees to it, too. That thing about a flower monster wanting you dead for no reason though…

Napstablook has some (self) doubt.

“you… you want me to hang out with the human-”

“-Her name is [Y/n].”

Napstablook winced, “right, sorry… but… you want me to hang out with [y/n], and… protect her…?” He looked away, “i don’t know if… if i’m strong enough… i can do my best, though…”

She sighed, “[Y/n] is not so weak that she needs a demanding presence over her shoulder, but there is only so much she can do by herself. I just don't want anything to happen to her, but I cannot have her stay inside all day, either.”

Napstablook nodded slightly, “yeah… i’m not very social myself, but i still go out and talk to other people because i know it’s good for me…”

“Then please, tomorrow once [Y/n] and I have breakfast, come by and take her out to have some fun.”

“yes, miss toriel… i can do that…”

“And Napstablook?”

“ah, yes?”

Toriel looked at him with desperation, “Please… Please don’t share this information about my dear [Y/n]. There’s no telling what might happen if word got out that an adult human is living in the Underground.”

⁠────

Napstablook smiles at your eagerness, and content as you take a seat on the piano stool. This place is small and doesn’t have a lot of variety in instruments. But you don't seem to mind at all, in fact, you were super excited to go to the different instruments going “Lookie!”

“Not to give myself a congratulatory slap on the ass cheek, buuuut I’m pretty mediocre when it comes to the piano.” You… gloat?

“aw, i’m sure you’re great…”

“Oh, I was just joking, Blooky.”

“oh……. so-”

“-If you apologize one more time, I’m gonna sing your praises passive-aggressively. Want me to do that again?”

Oh, God. 10 minutes ago you had stopped him in the middle of the street and started yelling nice things at him! It caused a scene (only 2 monsters were watching) and your kind words brought him to tears! You said things like: “Oh, look at me! I’m Blooky! Everyone is always so happy to see me, and the room gets brighter when I float in!”

THAT’S… THAT’S SO??? NICE? BUT CONFUSING?!

So no, Napstablook is not looking forward to that again.

He frantically shakes his head, “n-no…! no, i’ll stop apologizing…”

“Aaanyway! I can play a few songs on the piano. I only bothered learning when I was in my Theater Kid Arc™.” You tell him, “I think I know just the one, too. Ready to hear my tunes?”

“yeah, let's hear what you got…!”

You make a show of popping your fingers dramatically before playing…

“It’s Raining Somewhere Else.”

Yep. You’re hella corny like that. You know a few Undertale tracks because Undertale was at its fucking peak while you were in high school. And no, the Undertale OST is not the only music you bothered to learn, but how are you not going to play absolute banger?

You never managed to learn “Megalovania,” though. You learned the other variations of it, such as those really sad piano cover versions that people go crazy over. You don't know if you remember it well, though. Ah, but one of your other favorite ones was always “Waterfall” since they were just lovely.

Anyway, short story long, you know how to play piano originally to woo your old love in theater club, and guess what mother fuckers?! It fucking worked so it paid off!

In any case, Napstablook looks like he’s really enjoying it! You guess you could say…

It was…

Resonating with his soul!

Ahh, you’re so funny!

Anyway, it seems some monsters are coming closer to listen in. Oh boy, guess you’ll have a chance to show off those songs too if they think you’re here to perform.

⁠────

After getting you back to Toriel and agreeing to visit again tomorrow, Napstablook leaves the Ruins with a smile on his face, and a pep to his ghostly… floating? He left in a good mood, and for once, he was looking forward to hanging out with someone again. He’s humming that first song you played on the piano, wondering if you’d appreciate him trying to replicate the tune to make into a remix-

“napstablook.”

“AHH!!”

The ghost spins around with fear and tears in his eyes, clutching his invisible pearls close. He sighs heavily in relief and slight irritation when he sees who it is. The skeleton monster is sitting casually by the big bush right outside the Ruins’ doors. Sans’ grin widens slightly while he pushes himself to stand.

“ah, sans… it's… it's just you…” Napstablook wants to cry, “were… were you waiting for me the whole time…?”

“nah, i got here a short while ago and took a nap,” Sans answers honestly with a shrug, “so? what happened? what did the lady want from you?”

Oh, right. Napstablook was supposed to be some kind of double agent. But now that he knows the situation is different, he can’t help but feel bad that he originally had ulterior motives.

“uhm… i’m not sure if it's okay for me to say…” Napstablook looks away.

Sans feels his eye socket twitch. “oh, come on, bud. was it really that bad?”

“it's not that, but i was asked not to tell…”

“it’s a little too late for that, don’tcha think? I already know there’s a human in the ruins.”

“right…”

The ghost sighs heavily. Well… it should be fine if he just doesn't tell Sans too much, right? He doesn't think Sans is malicious and will abuse this information, but Toriel specifically asked him NOT to share about you.

“well, miss toriel wanted-ah, toriel is that monster lady who asked for me.”

“huh? oh, uh, good to know.”

“all miss toriel wanted was… she just wanted me to hang out with the human…”

“…? and?”

Napstablook shrugs the best he can, “that’s it. we went to the small city in the ruins and hung out at the music store… she’s really good at playing piano, you would’ve liked it, i think…”

…HAH?

“huh…” Sans furrows his brow-bones together, “did toriel say why?”

THIS part Napstablook feels like he really shouldn't share at all. Maybe he can lie by omission.

“uh… just that she’s lonely…”

“…uh huh…”

“this human is really nice, you know…” Napstablook continues to say, feeling as if he should defend your honor, “she said she doesn't wanna leave the ruins any time soon, so i don’t think you have anything to worry about…”

Sans snorts, “i’m not worried about, anything, buddy.”

“but yesterday you said you were worried…”

Curses! He’s been caught!

“meh, things change.” Sans shrugs, “so, what's the human’s name, huh?”

“……………i can't say.”

“oh-really?”

“sorry, sans,” Napstablook says immediately at the other's deadpan tone, “but miss toriel asked me not to say anything, to begin with…”

The skeleton monster resists the urge to run his hand down his face. He supposes he should’ve expected this. Napstablook is a good egg and willing to help out, but he’s too straight-laced. And the thing is, Sans could easily find a shortcut into the Ruins to see for himself, but he’s sure the other monsters would say something about a mysterious skeleton sighting.

“nah, i get it. thanks anyway, bud,” Sans gives the anxious ghost a friendly wink, “i gotta stay out here anyway, but you’re free to go.”

“oh… okay… see you later, sans…….”

“see ya.”

Napstablook doesn’t think he can handle it any longer, and just straight up fades away to avoid being looked at. Ugh, he was having a good time, but now he wants to go home, lay down and feel like garbage.

Tag List

@lemonboy011

[yesimwriting]

I don't know if you have any thoughts on this one but if so, can I ask for the "directors cut" on the blurb where reader and the boys were fights and they went to her window to basically suck up am she was on phone, I think it was called "Billy and Stu scare away guys" or directors cut on chapter 5 of the final girl fic or both of you'd like to. I love hearing what you have to say about them and it adds so much insight on how you characterize them, thanks :)

omg hi

"Billy and Stu scare away guys" blurb:

okay so i have a lot of thoughts on that blurb bc there were some details i wanted to work in but couldn't bc they didn't fit

so my main one is the gummy thing at the end, where Stu gives reader a bag of gummies, but the gummies are just the ones that are her favorite flavor and he plays it off by saying that he hates that flavor

in my head, he definitely does not hate that flavor of gummy ( i don't think i've ever met anyone that hates red gummies lol) and that's just another way of him being secretly nice to reader

ik stu's pretty openly affectionate and loves getting credit for being nice, but i feel like when it comes to smaller things that show just how much attention he pays to the reader, he plays it off as much as he can

i talk about this in the actual fic but another detail i feel like keeps coming up is that i headcanon stu as being kind of a textbook early psychopath child and not shying away from taking apart small animals just bc/morbid curiosity,

i don't see billy (even as a kid) going out of his way to do those kinds of things, partially bc i feel like he would've been more hyper aware of the adults/general perception of what's perceived as "normal" as a way to cover himself and stu, but i def don't think he was bothered by it

anyways all of that is background to explain that one of my favorite details is billy being aware that y/n would rather watch a person die in a movie than see an animal get hurt and then knowing to edit the story

okay! now onto the biggest part of the story!! billy dropping the background information on his mom, ik that seemed extremely manipulative, and it definitely was on billy's part, but it was also kind of an accidental admission

you know that quote "the best lies have some truth in them",, well it was kind of like that, while billy just doesn't want y/n to talk to guys at all out of general possessiveness/jealousy, that insecurity about losing her the way he lost his mom is real

that's why i also mention stu being surprised, bc billy rarely alludes/mentions the truth of what happened to his mom, and the situation still felt relatively under control so stu was like ?? now? lol and then after thinking about it stu starts worrying a little bc maybe billy is that upset, it's another one of those moments where they just read each other and manage to work through things they can't say in front of other people

Chapter 5 of final girl:

okay so at the beginning, when stu's still asleep and billy's explaining away how touchy and pushy stu was in chapter 4, it's a key example of the way billy likes to 'get ahead' of things

we all know he's a planner, and so even though y/n's complaint was small, billy's already covering all the bases, emphasizing that stu would 'never hurt her' and framing stu's attention as a good thing while also painting him as sympathetic bc of his parents

also i feel like i've implied this but part of the reason they're always pushing that he'd 'never hurt her' narrative is bc it's meant to assure stu as much as it assures y/n, only stu knows that by 'hurt' he means accidentally kill her or something,, and y/n thinks it's more emotional/in a play fighting way lol

i think this is the first chapter that touches on how much y/n relies on them for a social life, like it was so easy for them to exclude her from that part even though all of her other friends where there

omg and y/n briefly thinking billy was ghost face, i feel like if she had had that train of thought while more sober, billy and stu would have had a much harder time getting through that one

i considered adding a scene where billy calls stu and tells stu that he needs to pull out the voice modulator and call y/n's house QUICK bc i thought it'd be fun to write and i still kind of want to write a scene like that at some point, but i felt like it broke up the suspenseful energy i was going for so i decided not to

[theajaheira]

Bestie, I need to know why Xander/Willow cheating made sense because I cannot send my brain to the dimension you live and love from but I WANT to.

love this energy! <3

so first of all this meta by @petpluto covers a lot of the points that i think make this beat so compelling (willow and xander's history as neglected/abused kids who have been each other's Person since childhood) but for me i am also really fascinated by how gorgeously it highlights some key issues that willow and xander both struggle with -- issues that manifest really neatly in this specific beat for both of them.

while willow has absolutely grown to love oz, there's a moment in "innocence" that i think is really key to understanding how oz and xander occupy a similar space: willow asking if oz wants to make out with her pretty much directly after finding out about xander and cordelia. oz himself points out within the text: this offer has literally nothing to do with oz as a person and EVERYTHING to do with willow's desire to Flip Xander Off, so we already have this pre-existing situation where willow's romantic decisions are not at all linked to her romantic feelings! even if willow is 100 percent absolutely in love with oz, and i do think that the show plays it like that, there's a lot of psychological stuff that goes into her decision to want to be with xander. the show has established that she's attracted to him, obvs, AND i think that willow and her critically low self-esteem would be really interested in What It Represents to be the kind of girl who has two boys interested in her, particularly after having spent SO LONG waiting for xander in particular to be interested in her! there's also this really special allure in knowing that xander is dating cordelia chase, hottest girl in school, but literally Cannot Resist his Magnetic Pull to willow! like that has to be such an ego boost for her. i can definitely see that playing a part.

xander, meanwhile, is very deliberately making this choice because he does not see cordelia as a safe bet. we see this all through the way that he treats her in season three: he convinces himself in "anne" that she's been cheating on him over the summer with a Hotter Guy (with literally no evidence!), and CRUCIALLY, he is visibly thrown by the notion of being "locker door material" in "lover's walk," suggesting not just that he's guilty about willow but that he just genuinely cannot picture a situation where cordelia is actually proud about being his girlfriend. i think the way that their relationship sprung up did a lot of damage to both of them, because it was born out of shame! both of them were constantly trying to hide this because they didn't want their friends to see them with someone who they knew their friends fucking hated. xander and cordelia share this desire to be perceived as Cool, usually by a specific group of people, and it's this shared desire that has them unified in their decision to keep their relationship a secret in season two. thing is, though, we are shown so many moments where BOTH xander and cordelia express their deeper insecurities and have their partner essentially laugh in their face! fandom has dissected the moments where xander is a shitty boyfriend, but cordelia is also a DEEPLY shitty girlfriend in season two right up until they "go public." (see: xander asking cordelia to go as his date to buffy's birthday party & her saying sharply that she won't because she's ashamed of him/cordelia expressing jealousy and hurt re: xander favoring buffy and willow over her and him making fun of her for it.) her love for him is apparent to us as viewers as soon as the valentine's day fiasco, but xander himself does not trust that love, and in some ways does not actually believe himself capable of hurting cordelia. he does not know that she loves him, and on some level feels that this thing is going to blow up in his face anyway, so it could be argued that starting up a clandestine affair with willow would be a neat and effective way to take control of the inevitable horrible end. (it is also an excellent precursor to his decision to leave anya at the altar -- he wants to be the reason that things fall apart, because he cannot stand the thought of these incredible women who he does not feel worthy of leaving him of their own volition! he has to drive them away himself!)

and as a little footnote, we get the foreshadowing for xander's changing feelings re: willow in becoming pt. 2! xander confesses his love to willow by her bedside, and willow, half-conscious, asks for oz. one could argue that this is a "best friend" love confession, and i do think that it is, but i also think that best friends + teenage hormones can be a really tricky business, and it is very understandable that wires might get crossed there (especially with xander, who has these really rigid expectations about what he as a guy is Supposed To Do, Be, And Feel, and in large part feels as though he's failing at all of them, so of course he overcompensates with fucked up toxic masculinity.) xander is very obviously thrown by willow wanting oz there instead of him, and expresses his deep displeasure with willow/oz being cute and couple-y consistently throughout the latter half of season two. he is just as jealous of oz as willow is jealous of cordelia. again, imo, WAY more complicated than "he has romantic feelings for willow," and a lot of this i think can be much more compelling if seen through the lens of "my best friend is slipping away and becoming someone else's person and i cannot fucking take that. i have to grab them before they're gone, and i know i can, because i know them."

[ablogofchanges]

Hey it’s my Birthday today. It feels good to be another year older. It feels weird only being in my early to mid 20s *blows out candle* (Wish I was a massive Bubba bear with a flatulent ass and a slob brain) 😮‍💨 🕯

In the start of mid 20s and already wanting for more age and look? Classic case to me!…. But, birthday wishes are always meant to be satisfying and fulfilled, am i right? So now instead of tricking you like others, im gonna do the opposite this time: Fulfilling every word of your birthday wish, just for ya bud'!

Blowing all the candles and stretching upward and outward, your spine goes with the significant pain as back muscles ripple in a round shape and quickly degrading. Your shoulders begin to protrude while you feel like your spine and rib cage about to expand, push outward in every direction from your bod, cracking, bending contortedly As it felt like your chest is being pulled backwards and up, your gut fills and bulking up with the sense of the weight of your own mass chest as it is your stomach gaining more and more with the fat keeps growing along with the stretching skin. Your torso is slowly getting black and bushy with the sense of how the shirt turning uncomfortable as if the calories in your belly makes them shrink A warm wave hit you along with a sudden wet sensation, ensuring your butt to let out a very long and loud fart. A tingling feeling around your butt gets stronger while your thighs has been replaced with an extreme itch on your entire lower body. You look down to see what changed as your thighs are completely glued together. Your once smooth legs have gone hairy from the backs of your thighs, now entirely covered. The worst of the itching is gone, however, a little tingly itching is left along the entirety of your lower Your legs straighten out with the hair spontaneously spreading out, soft and fuzzy like a solid blanket, up and down. Your fat has grown so much that your shirt now can't hold them, bursting down to the floor while your feet and toes broaden and widen. Your outstretching arms and hands feel the increasing weight and size of your body changing as if all the fat in your body shifted to your arms, making them massive as hair growing, going down to the hands with the existing hair was moving outward. Your wrists turn to be more flexible as your palms swelling and getting wider, and you start to feel your fingers extending in mass. You can perceive the fat on your fingertips increase and thicken. You sense dizzy and light-headed with the rapidly aged face and the eyes turn dull and blurry, wrinkles are messily formed on your face and under eyes while your head expand with the cheeks into a rounder shape. As your nose itching and painfully changing bigger rounder, you feel like lying in a pool of sweat and cant even think clearly. you keep getting older as your facial hair moving from your now blad head to form a sexy beard covering your now pale gray skin. Looking at the mirror, you can tell your birthday wish is fulfill like you have always desired...

Almost forgot! Soon your mind seems to be altering as well as your way of thinking is different, more simplier, incorrect and unable to make sense your own feelings. And with the brain is now slob, dumb and nothing but needing more food in the gut, you seem delighted with the wish! A dreamer or a fool? Can't judge your decision but a happy birthday to you!

Hey! This one is a little bit long and messy, again...

I have an annoucement that i still try to make submissions, but, im now busy irl until August! Yeah, a whole half of the year, i know, that means beside submissions, i wont upload anymore of my own stories. And i was thinking about doing Ko-Fi or Patreon, let me know if you guys have better ideas than that. Anyway, toodles!

[dogfags]

Do you have any passing tips for being stealth?

I Do but I don't want to get cancelled for encouraging passing culture or whatever but if u rly wanna know here lmao:

Disclaimer: these tips are just what have helped ME, I'm only speaking for myself and what I have observed works for me. I am a very androgynous person, I don't pass as male without trying. These tips are for people who probably haven't been on T for 8 years but probably have been on T a bit and kind of teeter the edge between passing and not. You don't have to pass to be valid yadda yadda whatever but some people want to pass and be stealth and this is for those people.

I wouldn't dream of trying to be stealth pre top surgery just bc it would have been impossible for me but there are ways to conceal binders in day to day. I'm stealth at cosmetology school and we have a very strict dress code and I wouldn't even be able to wear anything that would show a binder or that I've had surgery. So stick to clothes that cover you up - men's cut T shirts and long sleeves. I wear turtlenecks a lot bc I just personally like them but they also add a bit more coverage than a typically cut shirt.

You will probably be perceived as a queer/gay man. And (statistically speaking) you're probably into men anyway. Lean into it a bit. I don't mean act overly flamboyant or anything but people overlook feminine behaviors and traits in a man they perceive as gay. I'm dating a man so it's easy for me to just say "my partner" or "my boyfriend" to make it clear - if you're straight this is a bit difficult bc you will most likely at LEAST have people assume you're gay just due to the "feminine" behaviors you were taught your entire life. In that case you kind of have to work to unlearn those. A lot of how people perceive your gender has to do with your mannerisms.

Idk about you but I'm short af and always thought it would be a huge hindrance to passing. But it's not really! I wear platform doc martens which gives me a couple inches boost and there are insoles that can bump you up a bit too. It's not necessary though, men can be short.

Do voice training. A lotttt of trans men overlook this and think it's only necessary for trans women. No! You need to voice train if you want to pass. Stop speaking in that customer service voice too, ESPECIALLY to other men. I'd just look up voice training videos and practice on your own and then slowly implement it into daily life. It really changed the way not only how people perceive my gender but also the amount of respect other men give me. Which is sad but it's part of the game.

You will likely look younger than you are. One way to combat this is with clothing choices and hairstyles that flatter you. Don't choose a longer fluffy haircut that will make you look boyish. Choose something short on the sides and longer on the top, maybe with a fade but definitely with clippers. You can get this cut at any barbershop or salon - it's the first kind of haircut for men that they teach. Avoid unnatural colors in your hair. You can spice it up with coloring your hair for sure but I wouldn't go for bright pink or blue. (This was sad to give up for me but damn near a necessity if you want to pass. I am however just as happy with black hair with a blonde streak.)

High emphasis on the haircut. I see so many trans men get extremely feminine cuts and colors and then complain that they don't pass. Your hair is very important in how people perceive your gender. Study the difference between a pixie and a men's cut and don't dance the line. Avoid shaving your head bald - it exposes your whole face and skull shape which is also something people look at to determine gender. Get something short and masculine, think square not round shapes.

Just don't wear makeup. I know you think it helps to contour and darken your eyebrows but it doesn't. Everyone can tell it isn't natural and men rarely ever wear makeup. You may be able to get away with it in a setting like mine (cosmetology school or being a literal makeup artist) but otherwise it's only hindering your ability to pass. If you want darker eyebrows/facial hair consider dyeing it with just for men facial dye.

If you can grow facial hair, do. It's a game changer in passing. People will very rarely see someone with a mustache and think "woman." (Not to say this doesn't happen, it does, but less.) If you can't grow facial hair, don't draw it on for the love of god. I made this mistake for a while of putting makeup on the vellus hair above my lip to make it appear like a mustache and that shit looks ridiculous. Just shave it clean if it's not full enough to be an actual mustache. I myself have a really thin mustache but it's enough that it immediately signals to others that I'm a man. You can use rogaine on the face to grow more facial hair - I did this and can attest that it works. (Just be careful if you have cats, it's toxic to them.)

Last thing I'll say, is be wary of your clothing choices. You can wear some feminine things if you make up for them in other ways. For example, I love high waisted pants. I refuse to wear other pants. Therefore my pants are usually found from the women's section or I wear oversized men's pants at the waist instead of at the hip. This creates a feminine silhouette but I counteract it by wearing a baggy top that falls over the waist, covering it, OR tucking the shirt in and allowing it to be loose at the point where it tucks in (if that makes sense?) Basically think rectangle and triangle shapes instead of curvy round ones for clothes. Try to create a silhouette that slims the hips down. Also, wear clothes that fit! Don't oversize everything (I'm guilty of this sometimes but try to balance out the bottom and top halves). Oversized clothing is still better than very tight clothing that will show everything but it makes you look shorter and more round and we're trying to achieve rectangle/triangle. When I gained 40 lbs I had to really deep dive into plus size men's fashion and find all new ways to dress myself bc I was so used to being skinny and being able to wear anything I wanted while still looking masculine bc I had no curves lol. T has changed my fat distribution a Little Bit, but I still very much have hips and an ass on me and I combat this with loose, straight leg pants and a shirt that falls over the top of the butt (aka don't wear crop tops, they aren't helping you.) But yeah! You'd be surprised at how much you can do with masculine clothing. People often say masc style is "boring" but it's totally not! I love Pinterest for finding outfit inspo. You can also incorporate feminine pieces into an overall masculine outfit and get away with it if you know what you're doing.

So yeah!! Those are my tips. Hope they help someone :') I'm new to living stealth and it's kinda scary at first, you do have to subtly lie about your life sometimes. But overall I'm much happier this way and my dysphoria has drastically decreased.

[rianafying]

this is not necessarily a happy journal entry but

i’ve had a lot of happy moments lately. and relief. also chaos but that’s nothing unusual, the happiness is. noticed something that made me upset just now. also opened bumble god knows why. i know fully well i don’t want to date, and yet, i opened bumble. it’s not like i have time to kill. in fact, i have no time. there’s so much stuff i’m meant to be doing. i just added a whole bunch of stuff to my master to do list. here comes the hyperventilation. i prayed the other day. i felt so bad that i prayed. can yall imagine how much anxiety it takes to get to a point where i genuinely broke down enough to beg god for help? but it means something. it means i have hope. it means i want things to get better. it means i feel it’s worth it. this is a start contrast to my indifference and disinterest in living last year. things are different now. i am different. nothing changes. everything changes. it feels like a cycle but also there’s something new about it. everytime i regain my will to life. you can’t force these things. it has a mind of its own. also going back to bumble, it’s such a waste of time for me and also it makes me feel a few things: 1) like dating is so strange, i don’t have it in me to do the whole ritual, it’s not organic, it feels forced, and superficial, it’s not for me, not for who i am right now. 2) it makes me think about aspects of myself that i have struggled a lot to make peace with, such as my appearance, my personality etc through the lens of others, like why would i ever subject myself to such torment, when i know i hate being perceived 3) i am too impatient and disinterested to send the first message or to wait for a response and then to carry on a conversation. there’s more points but ill just keep rambling for eternity. why am i even saying all this, why am i thinking so much about it, clearly this has struck something in me, since i feel so strongly about it and am desperately trying to make sense of it. the thing is. i like who i am. i like how things are going. that is not something i can say like ever. but can now. and i’m doing fine. and i do have the time. to be silly. to waste some. i don’t actually have to do the things, i just want to do them. and a break is never long enough to do everything i ever wanted to do. instead i’ll focus on the progress i’ve made, which is anything but little. i should be and i am extremely proud of myself. oh funny thing happened the other day, i accidentally splashed boiling water onto my face and chest when trying to break a bone in my stockpot. and i gave myself a pretty nasty burn that covers more than half my face. the left side. my left. your right. the side with the mole. anyway, so i dealt with it, i’ve been told to avoid exposing my face to the sun or heat in general. so ive been eating a lot of cold foods. and coincidentally watching that episode on gilmore girls where the dragonfly inn catches fire, and sookie can’t use the stoves until the insurance company pays for the contractor to fix them and she lists cold foods, all types of salads and carpaccios. i don’t eat raw meat/fish and i’m over my salad craze. i’m craving a hot roast chicken sandwich with cold tomatoes and zesty mayo on toasted brioche buns. the way i make it. i’m rlly hungry. and there is this lingering melancholy that just grows if i don’t address it every now and then.

for someone who is absolutely terrible at writing, i sure do write a lot. and this is technically writing. right?

even though things are better, i’m not yet okay. my mind still spins too fast. nothing sticks. i’m in distress because my friends are distress. how can we actually be happy if the ones we love are not. so many people so many attachments. it’s been a while since i’ve even had the mental capacity to care for others. i’m hungry as fuck. something is off, something feels bad. is it my hunger. is it my messed up sleep schedule. is it my perpetually cluttered room. is it the pressure of expectations. is it my godawful health, mental or physical. is it eternal.

i can’t fix everything. i can’t fix anything really. i can’t fix things at a rate fast enough to keep up with the pace of destruction. in this life there is too much to fight against. but also too much to fight for. at least i can take solace in the fact that it ends. which is not so much a fact to me as it is a hope. god forbid the heavens exist. i couldn’t take another minute of being, after i have been so relentlessly my whole life. i’m hungry. i’m scared. i’m hopeful. i’m apprehensive. always anticipating danger but never quite ready for it. nothing is ever right enough. except when i find a bit of poetry that changes the fabric of my being. maybe i just need to be receptive in case some poetry finds its way to little old me.

[irontinystar]

‘She’s beautiful, isn’t she?’ the voice makes Steve startle, even though he is the one surprising Tony.

He approaches the other man with careful steps, so not to make his movements unexpected.

Tony lets out a chuckle. ‘Quit the bullshit, Rogers, I’m not gonna jump.

He’s sitting on the rooftop, legs swinging on the other side of the railing, grip tight around a bottle of cognac, the other hand, meant to keep him balanced, less steady by his side.

Steve takes a deep breath, but stills on his feet. ‘Tony’ he calls. It’s the first time he uses his first name, but to call him ‘Stark’ doesn’t seem to fit the situation.

Tony notices the change of formality. ‘Wow! On a first name base?’ he teases. ‘Already?’

He huffs, before taking another sip. ‘Next step you’re gonna get in my pants.’

Steve ignores the bad joke, but doesn’t get closer. He’s a little scared his movements could surprise Tony. He didn’t know the man had suicidal thoughts.

He sees him looking down, over New York, bright in its sleepless night. Tony’s grim face is painted with weird shadows.

‘Who’s beautiful?’ Steve asks, trying to keep Tony’s attention on him rather than on the edge.

Tony turns his head a little bit, just to throw him a glance. ‘The moon’ he babbles. He looks up at the sky, points his finger at the bright sphere towering over them.

‘How do you know it’s a she?’ Steve asks. He maintains his voice light, but his heart is racing miles, his mind working to find a way to get a backup, someone who can help him get Tony down on the ground.

Tony laughs again, clear in the cold night. ‘The greeks’ he replies with an obvious tone. ‘They believed it was a she. Selene, they would call her. Beautiful woman, pale, dressed in white.’

‘Tell me more’ Steve urges, once again keeping his voice reassuring.

Tony raises an eyebrow, but he goes on anyway. ‘She’s a mother’ he mutters. ‘Linked to childhood, family’ he scoffs at his own words, a bitter chuckle.

He points his eyes at the moon, and his whole face is now lit by the pale light. ‘They say- she symbolises the human psychic. It’s how we remember our past, how we perceive our present, and how we imagine our future’ he takes a mouthful of cognac. ‘Bullshit’ he mumbles.

‘Tony!’ a high pitched voice calls, concern palpable in it, and Steve turns around to see a fumble of red hair, and the sound of high heels approaching the edge of the rooftop.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Pep’ Tony laughs hysterically. ‘I would never leave without saying goodbye first.’

Pepper’s face is covered with tears and smudged makeup, as she holds Tony’s hand to help him step down, and she’s immediately joined by Happy, his strong arms picking up Tony and putting him on the ground.

‘Gimme that’ Happy orders, taking the bottle away from Tony’s reluctant hands.

Tony laughs again. ‘That’s a way to ruin a party, am I right, Cap?’ he asks.

He sets his dark eyes on him, his lips still quirked up in a smirk, and Steve feels so cold, like he’s choking on ice all over again.

‘Come inside, Tony. Let’s go home’ Pepper murmurs with a sweet voice, and the three of them head to the fire escapes, leaving Steve behind.

He inhales deeply in the air of February, the city is still in its beauty, the moon almost mocks him over his head.

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