#tbh i had planned this to be my final piece for the month

[morningnoodles]

for grief only exists where love lived first - franchesca cox

bagginshieldtober day 22: grief // words from "my love mine all mine" by mitski

[nonstoplover]

all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader

summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father

words: 2K

warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh

a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.

A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.

As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.

Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.

God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.

They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.

Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.

Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.

With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.

When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.

She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.

Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."

"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.

"I can feel it in my bones."

He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.

Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.

What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?

He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.

This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.

Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.

How did he deserve her?

As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.

I hope the baby looks like her.

Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.

Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.

Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.

Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.

In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.

"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.

Son?

His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.

"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.

"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.

The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.

Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.

She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.

Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.

Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.

The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.

"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.

She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."

Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.

She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.

"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.

"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.

They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.

"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.

With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.

She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.

A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.

a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

[mistydeyes]

Hey, Hope you're having a good day or night wherever you are.

Can I request a headcanon about 141 with a female reader who likes to draw and sketch a lot? Platonic ofc.

thanks anon, hope you have a good ____ as well <3 i used to be a sketch/artist girl so this was so cute to write :)

an artist’s touch

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

summary: When you aren’t on the field, you are an avid artist of multiple mediums. It isn’t brought up much but once it is, the 141 has plenty of questions (and even some requests).

pairing: Taskforce 141 x platonic!fem!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of blood/violence

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

tbh when you first joined, they didn’t know much about your hobby (being part of a specialized task force is busy yk?)

but it was revealed when you finally were granted leave and you discussed your plan upon your return home

“my first stop is going to be to cass art :)”

immediate cacophony of “you draw?” “you’re an artist?” “have you ever drawn us before!”

after a few minutes you quelled all of their questions (“yes, yes, and i literally joined 4 months ago and haven’t had access to a pencil”)

ghost comments, “make sense why you’re so good at stabbing people”

“god you’re so morbid ghost”

when back on base, you were shy to show you’re talents but you eventually relaxed the more you were with your teammates

eventually you began to bring out your sketchbook or paints out when you were relaxing after a mission or training session

once in a while, someone will tell you your work is amazing but if you’re in the zone, they’ll leave you alone

one time price accidentally left his mug too close to your paint cup and you ended up swirling your brush into it

queue a long lecture about how you should pay more attention (but who am i kidding that coffee is so strong he probably didn’t notice)

you humored soap and drew what you thought the real simon riley looked like

ghost snuck a peek and one of the drawings was surprisingly accurate

speaking of which, you may or may not have used your teammates as drawing references but you’ll never tell

gaz just has such angular features which makes drawing his figure so easy

mans looks like a walking drawing figure

it’s relaxing to let your mind wander and hands do the work as you fill a page or canvas

painting at home in your studio helps you to unwind from the grueling job

once, you sketched a few designs for gaz when he mentioned wanting to get a tattoo

“i don’t know gaz this is permanent” “i’ve seen your sketches and they’re amazing! just send me a few designs”

he landed on a cool watercolor piece you had made months ago

after your design, you would all joke about how you would redesign ghost’s tattoo

“Lt. that shit is heinous, just let me draw you a coverup” “no.”

while you don’t accept commissions anymore, you did gift your captain a painting of his favorite secluded lake scenery

he has it hanging in the foyer of his elegant flat

while you don’t really exchange gifts, everyone knows what they would get you

ghost has taken special attention to the brand of pencil you use and the gouache paintings that litter your quarters

everyone likes to joke w you on the comms

“hey do you think you could paint a picture with the blood of your enemies?” “jesus! soap…but yes i could”

[leclercstars]

Love the Rockstar fics so far, something kinda related, do you think you could do something where the reader has boobs on the smaller side and is a bit insecure about them and her bf is rambling how much he loves them and doesn’t care about the size?

Love your account btw

FIRST REQUEST FIC YAY!!

bali blues. 🌊

Lando Norris x Reader

Warnings: not many it’s mostly fluff tbh, some cursing, mentions of sexual scenarios.

*full disclosure this one was a little hard to write since I have like need a breast reduction sized boobs but i tried my best!*

“Honey, i’m home!” you giggled as you bounced through the door of your apartment. Shopping bags lined every inch of your arms as you stepped into your bedroom where Lando was impatiently waiting.

“Finally!” he beamed at you.

You two had been planning your first couples trip to Bali for months now, and you had just gone on a massive shopping spree in search of the perfect swimsuits to flaunt around in.

“Please try them on for me I have been waiting ages for this moment!” Lando was bouncing excitedly, eyes wide as he waited for you to strip down.

“Okay okay! Don’t sound so desperate!” you laughed at him.

You turned and faced the wall to take off your clothes, slipping into the first suit, a high cut one piece that accentuated your toned figure.

You turned back around- doing a cutesy little spin to show off for Lando.

“You are PERFECT, y/n.” his jaw was damn near to the floor.

“Need to see the next one immediately.”

You blushed and went to strip down- but in the middle of taking the suit off Lando interrupted.

“Why aren’t you facing me? You know how I love admiring every inch of what’s mine,” he said.

You cringed. Suddenly everything felt very hot, and there was an awkward tension hanging in the room.

“You know i’m insecure about them,” you whispered.

“About what?” Lando’s innocent confusion was charming- but it certainly wasn’t helping you in the moment.

“My tits!” you yelled at the wall.

You were barely an A-cup, and ever since you started dating Lando you had noticed all the comments online about the way you were built. Flat, boyish, a whole host of other jabs making fun of your lack of womanly curves. Lando had never made you feel like he didn’t like your figure- and he damn near worshipped your tits during sex despite their size- but it felt so much different when you were just changing in front of him.

“Baby, please look at me.” he said in a gentle tone. His eyes softened as you turned towards him- the swimsuit now around your ankles- as you crossed your hands over your bare chest.

He placed you gently on his lap- and it was like he was baring into your soul. He moved your hands away from your boobs- gently and cautiously- as you now sat fully exposed on top of him.

“You are absolutely perfect in every way- and I especially love your tits. The way they look perfect in every outfit you wear- god especially those tiny going out tops- and how they fit so wonderfully in the palms of my hands. I love how they look during sex, after you get out of the shower, or when you’re just lying around the apartment naked. You look like a goddess every time I lay eyes on you.”

He was melting your insecurities away with each word that trickled out of his lips.

“What do they call it? The Itty Bitty Titty Committee? I’m the president of the fan club” he grinned at you.

You laughed sheepishly at his remark, and nuzzled your head into his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. Bali won’t be so bad after all.

[crescencestudio]

๋࣭⭑ Devlog #41 | 5.28.24 ๋࣭⭑

It's hot girl (/gender neutral) summer season

HAPPY MAY!!

Hope you're all doing well <3 We're already getting into summer, which is a little crazy to me. The year is flying by! Before I get into what we actually did this month, it wouldn't be a May devlog without our annual Mermay celebration!

Look at those locks. His Ariel/Rapunzel era fr

Since I already had updated Mermay pieces for the Alaris LIs, I decided to do one for our beloved Van this year ^^ Hope you all like it!

For writing this month, I spent a lot of it catching up on Etza edits. Being totally transparent, I wasn't Completely Happy with their route when their draft was finished. But now that I've started the editing process with Wudgey, I'm really excited to see how their route is shaping up!!! We've been fleshing a lot of little interactions out with their route, and I can already see Etza's character really starting to shine with these edits ^^

I've also been chipping away at Kuna'a's route! While it's nowhere near finished, I'm hopeful that this upcoming month will be the month of Kuna'a now that I don't have a bunch of releases I'm trying to balance. His route is also one of the ones whose outline is more fleshed out (Druk and Etza I would say were the least fleshed out, which might be why they also took a bit longer). So I'd love to see Kuna'a's first draft complete/almost complete by the next devlog!

This month, I had to dust off my art skills tbh LMFAOIJSDF. It's been.... a WHILE since I've made CGs since I've been in the writing and coding dungeon for so long. So most of this month's art updates are me getting tilted from redrawing an ugly sketch over and over.

I DID manage to get the Van Mermay piece out. And I also was able to sketch out Kayn's Tragic End CG; that leaves only one CG that has to be sketched out! Currently, six of their CGs are finished, two need to be rendered, and one needs to be drawn still.

And since Kayn's CGs are mostly done, I've started drawing Fenir's. I was actually able to finish one because I basically Locked In when I made it, so here is a sneak peek!

Kisses his little pink nose

You might notice there's not toooo many updates on this month's devlog. The reason for that is because this month, I spent a lot of it recovering both mentally and physically. April shenanigans and those back-to-back releases took a lot out of me, and after going full speed basically since this year started, I learned I REALLY needed a break. That coupled with the concussion I got made it so that most of this month was focused on recovering and then getting back into the groove of things.

Another thing I tried to focus on this month was finding a balance in my workflow. Going into this month, I felt like I was on the verge of a mental breakdown almost every day, in large part because I have a lot of big things I'm trying to accomplish this year. Between finishing my dissertation, Alaris, and a personal big event that I have to plan, I have a lot on my plate this year, and it's made it easy to get overwhelmed as the months pass by. So I wanted to find a balance between all three that didn't make me feel like I was also falling into insanity. After talking to beloved Wudgey of @herotome fame, I've started adopting a schedule that gives me enough structure and flexibility to feel like I'm making progress without going crazy and getting lost in the sauce.

While it's still early in the process, I'm really happy with the balance I've hit, and I'm feeling much more like myself now compared to a month ago!

I caught up on quite a few things in my backlog this month, which made me happy ^^ I always like to learn from and support other devs, so finally being able to return to that helped with the recovery process <3

I don't have any actual fanart pieces, but there are a couple of games I'd like to highlight!

First of all, of course I must talk about our hot girl (/gender neutral) summer cross-promo. If you haven't checked out these games, I can't recommend them enough!!

Links to each game can be found on the Alaris Game page under the magic and mystery otome section!

Specifically, Save the Villainess, The Good People, and Thorn for the Villain are amazing games if you're into thriller/political games layered with mystery

The Silent Kingdom (which I played recently and is AMAZING) and Dual Chroma (Otojam 2023 ALLY) have added mechanics of RPG for exciting action-adventure fantasy stories

Lost in Limbo, Obscura, and Snow White Ashes are BEAUTIFUL dark fantasy games. I've played all three of these and they have some of the most beautiful writing and visuals... BIG FAN OF ALL OF THEM.

Mask Beyond Lies and Sigh of the Abyss have that epic fantasy adventure appeal to them, in a way that I think is similar to Alaris! And Pearlglow Cafe (another Otojam 2023 ALLY) is a very lighthearted and charming game for those of you who like the comfy vibe that most of my stories have!!

Some other games that I played are Favor (@favorvn) by beloved @concreteparasite which is SOOOOO stylish. If you've played Binary Star Hero by Connie, you can expect that same stylish, dark, sultry vibe from Favor. If you haven't checked out either of those games by Connie, I can't recommend them enough, especially if you like yanderes. There is so much aesthetic and atmosphere to them!

I also played Where Winter Crows Go by @prikarin who is a VERY talented developer (and one I'm sure many are familiar with). I had a lot of fun romancing Crowe and both the MC and him have such strong personalities, it was so fun seeing their dynamic!!!! The CGs were also made by anta, who is the dev behind Thorn for the Villain, and they're BEAUTIFULLLLL. Each one has so much style and rly has a professional look to them. Can't recommend enough if you haven't played already ((heads up that it is another yandere game for those who can't do yandere!))

Okay I've yapped enough. If you've made it this far, you are god's strongest soldier LFMASLDIFJ. See you all next month with hopefully some exciting progress!

[fiapartridge]

REQUEST tbh idk how ur request work but I have an idea

Going to one of Luke’s games but it’s Toronto vs NJ and wearing a maple lefes jersey

And luke sees her and is banging on the glass to get ur attention and is like “off now”

Idk this idea popped in my head lmao

R U Mine? | luke hughes

"all i ever wanna say is, 'are you mine?'"

luke hughes x reader

summary: you wear a toronto maple leafs jersey to luke’s game and he can't help but wish you were wearing his...

warning(s): cursing

hiii @bibella8swan <3 hope u like mitch marner, if not, just imagine someone else LMAO + i really need to make a navigation with like a proper request/prompt system, im tryna be a pro tumblr writer gal

You loved Mitch Marner, like loved him. 

Having grown up in Toronto, your family loved hockey just as much as the next family— which was a lot. They watched every single Leafs game, went to every single Leafs signing, and they even had a shrine of Leafs memorabilia in your parents’ home office. To say they liked the Leafs was an understatement (honestly, they would probably tackle you if you said that)— they were obsessed. 

Luke knew you loved the Leafs. I mean, he lived next door to you for a good chunk of his life, how could he not know? It wasn’t like you were sporting all things Leafs whenever you were with him, but Luke paid enough attention to notice your dedicated Mitch Marner Pinterest boards and your number 16 lockscreen. Though you rarely ever said it out loud (honestly, I don’t think you’ve ever told Luke, let alone anyone else, about your love for Mitch), Luke knew— because Luke knew you. He noticed the little things, like the way you always needed to carry around a lint roller in your bag because you just knew there would be unwanted lint wherever you end up going, or the way you laughed at everything, even bad jokes, because you hated silence even more. 

When he moved to Michigan, you were scared that things were going to change between the two of you, but it never did. He was still your best friend, and you were still his. When he found out you were moving to New Jersey for college, he was ecstatic given that he had just gotten drafted to the Devils. 

Getting to spend more time with his best friend? It was the best news he had ever been given. Luke started planning out your guys’ lives in New Jersey the second you told him about your plans. Maybe you guys could share an apartment instead of him sharing one with Jack, and maybe you could go to all of his home games and cheer him on in the stands? 

Luke moved to New Jersey after Michigan’s loss in the Frozen Four, and while it was a bitter moment, knowing that he was finally going to see you made it not so terrible. 

When Luke arrived in New Jersey, it was like nothing had changed. The two of you spent every single day together, and there wasn’t a single moment when you guys weren’t laughing, or making fun of each other while laughing. You even got an apartment with him, just like he had planned. It was perfect. Maybe that was when Luke understood that his love for you was way beyond just friendship. Luke loved you. Quinn said that Luke had fallen in love with you the moment he saw you, but he just wasn’t bright enough to see it— I guess college did teach him a couple of things. 

After a few more months of living together, Jack had finally managed to slap some sense into the both of you after finding out that you were both going on Tinder dates and that none of you were happy. In fact, you two were miserable. Every single time you watched the other person walk out that front door in nice clothes and high expectations, you felt some part of yourself crumble to pieces. 

You hated the thought of someone getting to hold Luke’s hand or cuddle into his side, or even get the chance to kiss him. You had known Luke your entire life and some random girl from some stupid app that he had known for, what? An hour? Got to get closer to him than you? You hated that, and little did you know, Luke hated that, too.

Which brought you to where you were now: at Luke’s game against the Toronto Maple Leafs. 

You slipped into the front row, sitting beside Ryleigh and Brooke, as you got the most perfect view of Luke as he and the rest of the Devils skated onto the ice for warmups before the game. You were engaged in conversation with Brooke when you felt Ryleigh tap your shoulder repeatedly. Whipping your head in her direction, she pointed to the glass and said, “I think someone’s trying to get your attention,” she laughed. 

When you looked toward the glass, you saw Luke banging against the clear pane. You were confused, to say the least. It wasn’t unusual for Luke to give you some sort of attention during warmups, like a simple wave, or a small smile, but for him to be banging on the glass? It had to be important. 

“Off," he nodded his head at you. "Now.”

You furrowed your brows. What was he talking about? You squinted your eyes, signaling that you had no idea as to what he was referring to. 

Luke pinched his jersey, pulling it up and down, and you immediately knew what it was. You were wearing a Marner jersey. What did he think was going to happen? The love of your life was on that ice— of course you were going to wear his jersey! But then again, the love of your life was banging on the glass, getting a million stares from Devils fans and Leafs fans alike, just so he could gain some comfort knowing that you were in that crowd, wearing his jersey. 

You didn’t quite understand that, though. You wondered why it was so important to Luke. I mean, you wore his jersey to every single home game. It was one game against a team you loved. What was the big deal?

You shrugged him off, shooing him to go back to the others when you heard the siren go off, signaling that it was time for the game to start. He shook his head and skated off to the Devils’ bench. 

The first period was… definitely something.

Luke got the puck a lot, but he also missed the puck… a lot. He skated around the ice like a lost puppy, and you bit your nails, wondering if it really was the jersey that was bothering him. It didn’t seem like a big deal to you. You’ve loved Mitch Marner since the concept of crushes even came to you. The Maple Leafs were your team. What was so wrong with that?

During the intermission, you sprang out of your seat and marched over to the direction of the locker rooms. The Rock was like a second home to you. You knew the place like the back of your hand which made it so much easier to get to Luke— because you needed to get to Luke before the second period started. You needed to know why it was taking such a toll on him. 

When you walked towards the hall of the locker rooms, your eyes met Luke’s and he immediately ran over to you, or rather hobbled to you, on his skates. On his way over, his right hand fished for the bottom of his jersey as he pulled it over his head in one clean motion. God, it was the hottest thing you had ever seen. 

“Take this,” he said, still out of breath from the game. 

You shook your head. “That thing is full of sweat, Luke.”

“Then let me grab you a clean one from my stall,” he suggested before turning around.

You scoffed, grabbing his wrist and swiveling him back towards you. “What’s going on?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

You rolled your eyes. “The last time you said that, you were pissed off that Jack got the last slice of pizza and the next time you got pizza, you added olives because you knew Jack hated them. It’s not nothing, Luke.”

He looked everywhere but you, because he knew you’d read him like a magazine. He knew that he could never hide a single thing from you, because just as he had paid attention to you, you had paid attention to him. You knew him, and deep down, you knew why the jersey was such a big deal to Luke, but you wanted to hear him say it. 

You wanted Luke to call you his. 

His shoulders relaxed for the first time since intermission started, and his eyes finally met yours. “I know you love Mitch. You always have, and that’s never been a problem, and it never will be, but… I wanted you to pick me.”

You narrowed your brows, stepped closer to the boy you loved so much, and you whispered almost tauntingly, “Why should I pick you?”

He bent down, held the sides of your face, and crinkled his eyes in nothing but cringe. “Are you really gonna make me say it?”

“Gosh, I think Mitch is calling my name,” you frowned. 

He shook his head, a playful smile dancing on his lips. “For some fucking reason, I love you, Y/N, and I want you to wear my jersey, I’m begging you to wear my jersey, because as selfish as this sounds, I need to know that you’re not Marner’s, and you’re not the Leafs’ — you’re mine. I want you… to be mine.”

Your face broke into a bright smile. “Fucking finally,” you laughed, pushing him off of you and towards the locker room. “Give me the damn jersey, Hughes, intermission ends in seven! Also,” you pulled him back. “I love you, too.”

[cherri-balms]

♡﹕𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓, 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓! — PROLOGUE

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A/N﹕YAY I FINALLY FINISHED THE PROLOGUE FOR MY FIRST SERIES!

This is the first full fledged fanfic I have written in a long time, I hope anyone who finds this finds it enjoyable, I had a fun time writing this prologue chapter and I currently have around a 10-12 chapter vision for this series as it stands, but if this proves to be something you guys like I will be happy to extend the series! I do plan to create a tag list, if you would like to be added shoot me a DM and I will add you to the list! As always any replies will be made through our main acc @caravan-mad!

This prologue pretty much gives most if not all the information about the reader aside from important plot details. I wanted the reader's demon form and time period to be as ambiguous as possible and limit the use of Y/N, the reader in this story has allegories to butterflies.

Not all chapters will have warnings nor does this one, however the full fic will contain dark content and will be under the dead dove do not eat tag.

Some content will include but are not limited to: Unhealthy relationship dynamics, N.SFW, Unrequited love, Yandere themes, Dubcon, and pretty much any tag youd find listed in Hazbin Hotel tbh

𝐄 × 𝐌/𝐅 × 𝟐.𝟔𝐤 × 𝐎𝐧𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 × 𝐀𝐎𝟑

♡﹕Bored at work performing repetitive choreography and pleasing faceless demons, you find yourself reminiscing on life, death, and limbo.

♫ envy baby ~ ♫

“Lights clear? Sounds clear?” 

“We’ve been fucking over this Steven! We’ll know it’s clear when they finally stop tuning our shit-” 

“Anne chill, we still have six minutes till airing. Don’t waste all your energy on the roadie.” 

“That crowd doesn’t seem to be getting any quieter does it…” The little imp’s observations were now only being met by eyerolls and silent treatment by the two drummer girls as the completed instruments silenced in countdown. 

Lights crew above, sounds crew from behind, and effects team surround. The way every single backstage member of your cast would run and scurry around you to get their various tasks done always made you think of little mice, rats even, so worked up making sure everything was in perfect position before those curtains had a chance to stop separating you, from them.

It was cute enough to make you laugh as though you were still a highschool girl.

“Broadcasting live in 60 seconds!” Dark blue scene lighting begins to fade your entire surrounding to a pitch black, and among doing so freezes your little mice into statues all around. Only the tiniest crack in the fabric ahead illuminated the space with a sharp vertical line down the curves of the figure that stands as the adorning center piece of this particular attraction. Roaring bass brings about a quake to the stage beneath your feet, queuing time for you to give your puppies a treat.

“Awwwe~ Did we leave you waiting long?” The volume of pure passionate devotion always rang to your ears louder than any electrical speaker could achieve. 

The wave of the new future adorned in electrical inventions was something you’ve always been prepared to face; why even in the faint blur of the overworld it was all the grown ups could ever yap enough of! No, that wasn’t where that bitter taste came from.

In the full truth of things, you just never knew you’d stick around long enough to bear full witness to its infection of mankind.

Oh come on. Who are we kidding right now?

“Hi. I wanna people save, all right? ”

You’ve never been more liberated.

“You’re in m-my way!!”

Your eyes have but a second to adjust to the flood of bright neon before life hits play once again. The choreography you, and and the other 4 devils fanned out beside you have programmed into your bodies for the past months flow across the stage with ease. among the camera men you can make out the mass of waving pen lights stirred ablaze after the long anticipation, oh how you love they always use the color dearest to your heart…

“The tightrope falls, broken by others”

Once you felt the rushing high of the stage the first time around tolerance for it subsided immediately after. You’ve seen the looks on those poor saps down in the front row, each one hyper fixated on every movement you make wishing they could be you, or be up here with you.

And of course, you all flash them bright smiles, longing gazes and praise them with verses of purity more fitting for the angelic souls looming up above. Customer service is the utmost desired, as they say!

“What a lady, she’s gonna jump

towards the light and shatter humiliatingly”

Actually, can you even remember when your first performance was? How old were you even? All of this came from a cheap shot of gaining a few quick pennies back in the day. Landing yourself a handsome and rich husband with the filth you wore on your back was the first childhood dream you found dead on arrival, but what you were cursed in status you were blessed with the cuteness that made kittens hiss in envy. To say you had “the voice of a goddess” would mayhaps be a bit too presumptuous, but who were you to refute the compliment when it came your way?

Well, maybe trying to parse through finding the day your career debuted or took off was a fool's errand, but the moment it ended certainly still remains as a burned film stuck to your mind. You stopped caring about the “Oh woes me~ what did I do to deserve this~” a long time ago. Still, the punishment you received in death far exceeded what you ever did to earn in your eyes, more so than your sentencing of eternal damnation.

“High and without care I’m lonely, lonely”

Right on que, as always every time you reach exactly 32 seconds into your first song the intrusive memory flashes the same images of the past over your current reality it almost feels as if you were stuck suffering that fate again each time.

You wish there was more to say on the matter of your demise, but there’s only a brief two second window between staring down some heckling loud mouth making a scene in the crowd and a bomb beneath the stage going off before your soul is falling down under the earth’s crust as a blazing comet onto the asphalt below.

And two days before your 21st birthday too are you serious?! UN-Fucking believable!

“From their idle words, the clown becomes a prisoner”

The only thing you wanted to do was scream in the immense burning agony you were suffering until the whole world knew the kind of pain you were in, but each time you cried not even a croak could get past your scorched throat

Even after the blazes subsided and your charred cocoon was all that was left behind, the inferno decided your vocal chords were going to be its payment.

…. That was it?

This was your payout…

And after all that work…

“It’s the same love as always, no way I’d have regrets”

Surreal didn’t even begin to describe what became of the following weeks, months, you haven’t a clue. The construct of night and day seemed to mean jack in the bizzare wonderland of maddness holding you, only so much telling what shade of putrid red in the sky was darker than the same shade of fucking red from two hours ago! What a productive way to spend your newfound endless time!

Every aspect of this place made you absolutely sick, enough so to have you still praying you just were drugged and having the worst trip of your fucking life, but the horror in maddness is the consistency that lies between the lines. You’re certain that damned illuminated “WELCOME TO HELL!” sign and the stranger you befriended in the mirror was that line that made you finally cave.

“Hey, it's a amazing.”

Honestly, you couldn’t say what specifically led you into the epiphany you had, all of a sudden one day you heard a sudden snapping sound in your conscience, and like that everything made sense to you. Why your life was snuffed before you could emerge from your cocoon, why your makers deemed this your new home, and why that bomb taking your life just wasn’t enough to deem your afterlife a hell.

There was a certain liberation that came with hell that you were never going to get being the glowing little diamond you were in human society, through terrorism, cannibalism and bloodshed one thing would remain a constant throughout devil society. No one would ever give a damn about anything.

Hell became your fucking playground by the time your first extermination came around, and keeping on the move while broke as shit was a cakewalk this time around, but your first encounter with an overlord after catching your foot in the grave in the casino humbled your inflating ego. Chaos for society did not necessarily mean chaos without hierarchy, and going without a voice to call your own put you at an extreme disadvantage.

“LA-LA-LA!”

The crescendo of the opener is right around the corner, for the leading front and center of your group your vocals and choreography had primarily remained reserved for backup. The primary color of lights among the crowd made the obvious clear with who the majority of these demons were here to see, your manager was aware of this more than anyone else.

Your fans tended to be aware of this for a majority of your shows, your parts in particular tended to stand out even as mere background vocals.

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand. 

Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

Sinners rejoice once the solo everyone was edging towards drops with the bass of the loudspeakers and the flares of the strobes above. The pitches your vocals were now capable of hitting and the frequency you were able to synthesize between notes wasn’t just inhuman, it was impossible for any singer whose notes carried on oxygen.

Your manager always made it a note in the writing room or when creating your setlists that overfeeding wolves with delicious treats would dull the taste over time, your solo singles often did well enough to prove this didn’t need to always be the case, but whenever it came to the business decisions you always put your full trust in him. Where you are standing right now is more than enough proof in your eyes that he knew exactly where and when to move his pawns, and in doing so he turned you into a valiant queen.

“Ah! I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two 

Lie-lie loving you, such words 

and doing such things, you’re in m-my way!”

Survival was of the least of your concerns after so much time had passed, but survival was all you could find yourself able to do in your forced retirement. Where you yearn for character in sound you were able to temporarily find when turning to radio, but living vicariously only quenches so much before greed starts cozying up within.

Plausible excuses for your laziness were wearing thinner by the day, even the last sane smolder of human morality trying to keep itself sparked wanted nothing more than to argue you weren’t supposed to be living to the fullest in hell, but the mute silence in your throat was beginning to phase your memory of the voice your inner conscience called its own too, and you'd sooner go mad trying than wither away again a fucking waste.

“Here comes the love maniac who never misses,

Stack up all the whining,

Fall in a high-fi love lie-ai-a!”

Overlords were still beings that had you nauseous upon first glance, your first meeting of one of these overlords had you vowing to never end up in the claws of one again, should you find yourself in a deal you can’t unbind yourself out of. Pride stuck thick to the roof of your mouth and there was nothing more you wanted to do than stick to your morals and prove use on your own, but reality had pelted you with stones throughout your entire afterlife.

You were going to need to write out a loan before you’d find yourself with any ounce of power to call your own, not like you didn’t have options for whom to choose! Even so, you needed to keep a steady head and an even sharper nose. In your ponderance you'd come to realize there was only really one option for you to go to this whole time. Maybe that gambling kitty taught you a valuable lesson on staking bets in the long run.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

A bet on the future was what you were going to stake it all on.

“Copy their acting and keep the truth hidden

Stacking three and lonely, lonely 

You’re surely a clown, a prisoner”

Everything about how the world operated changed so rapidly from the days walking in the sunlight to your eternal party in the redlight, the wave of the future had finally hit with the promise for a solution to everyones problems. There couldn’t have been any better timing, if technology was going to be the way of the future, who's to say you couldn’t prove what was achievable? Like that, you had your sales pitch. The hardest part on your end was complete.

“Hey, it's a amazing.

LA-LA-LA!”

“So you were a singer in life and lost your voice in death, and just what the fuck made you think I was the man to go to for this?” Those were the magic words you were waiting for, with his composure shaken it wasn’t long before he was the one asking the questions and allowing the ball to move into your court. Your fingers dance on the illuminated tablet laying on the table once again before you flip it over toward his direction.

~Have your inventions not made it to that level of advancement yet?

Hook, line, and sinker. You had a hunch a passive aggressive challenge toward the ego would be what ultimately won you over with any overlord you chose, but the speed in which he stood from his desk and held out his hand, it felt almost too easy.

“If it’s a new voice you wish to invest in, consider your stocks opened, Monarch!” Finally…

“I’m ready for this this lover baby! 

My garden of love is in danger from a drawing hand.”

“Now for what you have to offer me,” You don’t care. “I hope you weren’t planning on extorting me out of a generous gift and then making the big bucks with it, hm?” These overlords just love to hear themselves go on.

“Truly, this this lover’s crazy! 

In the garden of harm, the bud of a human is a lie-ai-a!”

“I suppose I could just issue a royalty for your voice, after all you wouldn’t be making a sound without my tech. Lucky for you, I’ve been having fleeting thoughts of entering the music industry. So why not invest in each other instead~”

“Ah I love you and even things about you I probably shouldn’t love 

I love you too much, on a count of one and two”

Being owned by an overlord in the end wasn’t so bad, or maybe this is the fated “stockholm syndrome” everyone seems to be crying about these days. Either way, the biggest price you had to pay in the end was just having someone else do all the “business” part in show business.

Naive maybe, but rosey eyed you weren't. For all that he’s done you still fail to see how your end of the deal has in any way repaid what’s given, which can only lead to one thing down the line. You were going to have to give him your everything.

… Yet, how could you find yourself ungrateful to someone who fulfilled your afterlife dream and still continued to provide for you?

“Lie-lie loving you, such words and even such things, they’re in m-my way!”

The audience went absolutely ballistic at the final group pose signifying the end of your opening set, some of the really hardcore fans in the front row you swore passed out the second eye contact was made.

Yet when you turn your chin upward to the VIP section after performing your tricks so well, all you’re met with is a turned back and a schmoozed up producer instead of a tasty bone.

“Thank each and every one of you for coming to see us tonight!!” No, you only wanted him to come out to see you.

Only you.

Hey, Vox?

Can you just turn your stupid flat head this way?

[loviatarsluv]

Would That I (2)

“True that love in withdrawal was the weeping of me

That the sound of the saw must be known by the tree

Must be felled for to fight the cold”

(all credits to the op of this gorgeous pic of my wizard <3)

pairing: Gale x f!tav (my own oc, Elara)

(takes place in an AU where the absolute and the cult basically don't exist so this is non-canon compliant, I guess)

rating: sfw, this one is pretty much purely fluff and angst

CW: yearning and pining, gale being very sweet and the gentleman he is, nasty drunk man saying nasty things, slight s*xual harassment, hurt/comfort, gale being protective, tara being tara

in summary: Elara and Gale plan to go to the market and spend the day together, which is cut short unexpectedly. nothing is ever easy for the two of them, it seems.

a/n: I’m torturing myself with this tbh I love a slow burn but GOD I just wanna write sweet romantic smut about the wizard already!!!

word count: 7.8k

Springtime in Waterdeep had to be one of the most breathtaking things she’d ever seen. 

The way the dogwood trees bloomed and blossomed in gorgeous shades of pink and pastel hues, the way the flowers that had been dormant during the colder months were now full of life and bursting with color, the way the sun shone so much brighter and the breeze felt like a warm but gentle embrace. 

Everything seemed to come alive with a brand new vigor— the streets were full again, the sounds of children running and playing as well as the Waterdhavian locals just existing and enjoying the sunshine for the first time in months echoed off the sides of the stone buildings that lined the streets. The faint melodic strumming of a lyre could be heard not too far from the Dekarios residence, as a bard occupied a spot just outside one of the nearby taverns and busked for coins throughout the day. 

She caught the end of a familiar tune as she approached the large window in her bedroom— a song that she remembered her mother singing to her before bed. One of the last vivid memories she had left of her. 

Elara hoped maybe they would pass the bard on their way to the market so she could toss them a few gold pieces. 

She gazed out over the expanse of the ocean and hummed along to the song until its eventual end, smiling somberly to herself and adjusting her dress to ensure it was perfect, before pulling on her boots and grabbing the basket she uses to gather fruits and vegetables at the market. 

It had been quite a while since she’d been able to wear her favorite dress, and today was the perfect weather, the perfect day, for her to finally bring it out again. She paces past the full length mirror in the corner of the room, stopping briefly and double checking her reflection. Her hair was mostly loose, half of her dark waves flowing along her shoulders and back and half of it tied back with a silver pin that adorned the shape of a mermaid, to keep it out of her eyes. Her dress fell right around her knees, the light blue fabric having small golden flecks throughout it as if stars were scattered across it. The neckline was low but not incredibly revealing, and it fit her waist and shoulders perfectly. She always felt so beautiful in this dress. It was her mother’s before she passed. One of her only other memories of her mother was seeing her twirling in the mirror as she tried the dress on for the first time. 

She always hoped that she could be as beautiful as her mother was when she got older. She wished that she could’ve been around to see her in it as she wore it now, but somehow whenever she put it on, she could feel her presence in the room. She could almost still smell the roses and sandalwood that used to linger on the collar of the dress.

Gale waited patiently for her downstairs as she got ready for their outing, busying himself by sitting at the table and reading the local news. He had to admit that he was quite elated to be accompanying her to the market today— feeling a sense of relief when she said yes when he asked her the day prior after her previous denial of his last invitation for an outing. He hoped she wasn’t doing it out of pity, but figured if she truly didn’t want to go that she would’ve just said so or made another excuse. 

He essentially jumps at the sound of her footsteps bounding down the stairs, standing quickly and straightening his clothes before she appears from the staircase, adjusting himself and ensuring nothing was askew or out of place. He smooths his hair, tucking a strand behind his ear and adjusts his sleeves just before she emerges from the staircase. 

He had to remind himself many times that this excursion was nothing more than a quick trip to the market— but it did little to quell the sweat beads rising in his palm and the buzzing in his stomach. He hadn’t spent a lot of time with her that felt like they were both choosing to. It almost always felt like they just happened to end up in the same room as each other by chance, rather than choosing to be in whatever room the other occupied just to be near them. If it were up to him, he would remain at her side every moment that her eyes were open and even while they were closed. But it wasn’t up to him. Not entirely, at least. 

He was only waiting for the right moment, or any sort of notion that she was even slightly interested— then, he would— well, do something. He hadn’t really thought that far yet. 

Now may be an apt time to start, though.

“Sorry I took so long, I had to make sure I had everything so we can stock up and last us a little longer.” She says, gesturing to the two wicker baskets draped over her arms. 

So this is what bards sing about so wistfully. This is what the love-stricken authors had in mind whilst they wrote hundreds of pages of longing and languishing— the beautiful girl that could make an entire room full of people’s heads turn in her direction just upon her entry, with long silken hair and stars in her eyes and on her dress. 

He’s rendered completely speechless, which was not a common occurrence for Gale. His heart flutters and pounds as she smiles at him expectantly, awaiting him to let her know that he was ready to leave as well. 

She notices him staring and glances down at herself, frowning. “Is it too much? It’s just so nice out, I thought, what better day for my favorite dress?” 

He’s completely transfixed by her, he almost doesn’t catch her words before he finally returns to reality after soaring through the clouds. He shakes his head almost in disbelief. 

“Not at all. You look… radiant, Elara.” He says, his voice low and reverent, as if he were admiring a painting hung in a gallery. 

A blush rises to her cheeks as she tries to fight off the widest smile she’d probably ever smiled. “Thank you. You look… handsome.” She replies, mimicking his phrasing and making him chuckle quietly.

“Why, thank you, my lady,” he says with a bow, then holds his hand out as an invitation for hers. She timidly places her hand in his, and he presses a gentle kiss to her knuckles. “Shall we?” 

She’s taken aback by the gesture, her already intense blush only becoming ever more prominent and persistent, the heat in her cheeks beginning to feel as though she may burn up before they even make it outside. 

She nods slowly, then follows his lead out the door, her hand lingering in his until they reach the front door steps. She takes a few steps ahead of him and tries to steady her breathing, as he quickly casts Arcane Lock on the door before rejoining her. 

They walk side by side in silence for a little while, both of them happily drinking in the sights surrounding them. Elara is still buzzing from Gale’s earlier comment and the sensation of his lips against her skin lingered on the back of her hand— they were so soft. Like rose petals. She could hardly focus on anything but their softness, even while the scratch of his beard tickled her skin. 

Radiant. He’d never complimented her like that before. In fact, she wasn’t sure anybody ever had. Not anyone that ever mattered enough to remember at least. 

But Gale— gods, she’d write it in the stars if she could. She would paint the night sky with each syllable in only the most dazzling of stars, the brightest she could find— so that every night she could remember the way it sounded dripping from his tongue like honey. 

A single word had never filled her entire body with a warmth that the sun could never provide. She felt as though she could fly if she really wanted to. 

Radiant.

“I’m not sure if I’ve ever asked you, but how have you enjoyed Waterdeep?” He asks, slowing his pace slightly to accommodate her, her legs being shorter than his so her shorter strides made her fall behind. 

He had asked, a few times. But that was months ago when it was all still new. Plus— her answer had changed considerably since the last time he asked. 

“I love it. It is so beautiful here. I certainly don’t miss Rivington.” She jokes, a soft melodic giggle following. Gale’s heart flutters. 

“There’s nothing quite like witnessing the changing of the seasons in Waterdeep. I’m happy to provide that experience for you, even under somewhat strange circumstances.” He replies, gesturing to the air around them. 

She smiles sheepishly and averts her gaze to the cobblestone beneath her feet as they continue to walk. “Thank you, for that, by the way. For… letting me stay with you. I know it’s not ideal, to have essentially a stranger in your home, and I don’t know if I’ve ever properly thanked you for it before, so,” she rambles, trying with everything in her not to look at his face out of fear of what she might see. 

He places a soothing hand on her arm, his fingertips featherlight against her flesh as she slowly runs them along the length of her bicep before returning to his side. 

“No need to thank me. Your presence has been a delightful change around here, one that was unexpected, but welcome nonetheless.” 

When she finally breaks and looks up at him, the warm and mirthful smile on his face nearly turns her legs to jelly, but she would happily melt under the sunshine that was his gaze. 

Before she can attempt to craft a response to him, a commotion is heard ahead, and both of their attention snaps to it. A crowd has begun to form near the front of the nearby tavern, and not a single intelligible word could be made out of the raucous whooping within the crowd of presumably day drunk patrons and bystanders craning their necks to watch whatever was taking place in the center of it. She furrows her brows, suddenly remembering the bard she heard that morning, and hoping they’d been able to avoid the commotion. She watches closely for a moment before she feels Gale’s guiding hand on her back, urging her to go in a different direction, any other direction. 

“Come, let’s push on. Tara will be waiting for us, and trust me when I say she is not the most pleasant when she’s been kept waiting,” he says, his voice low next to her ear. It was a throwaway excuse to pull her away from the ruckus and to safety to avoid potentially getting swept into a hysteria she needn’t get swept into. 

If her mind hadn’t been so preoccupied by whatever was happening in front of them, she’d have been blushing furiously at the position of his hand, just above the small of her back. Something to try not to think too much about later. 

Her eyes flick to him for an instant before she hears what sounded like a lyre being smashed against the side of the bricked building. Her head snaps in that direction, and the crowd parts in just the right way for her to see a young tiefling crumpled to the ground with his face in his hands, and an older human man above mocking him, gripping part of the smashed instrument in one of his fists. 

Her face twists to a deep grimace, and before she can stop herself her feet are carrying her forward, her pace quickening. Gale calls to her from behind, his voice distant and nearly inaudible over the loud pounding and drumming of her heart in her ears. The crowd has begun to disperse only slightly, but a handful of people still linger and are either cheering on the older man or encouraging the tiefling to stand and fight. The tiefling’s shoulders shake and tremble as he cowers away from the inebriated brute towering over him, bellowing nonsense.

The man stands above what she can now see is merely a child, no older than thirteen, shouting taunts of profanity and cruelty that she tries her damnedest to disregard so as to not use her very limited knowledge of magic to send him onto his ass as she approaches the child, kneeling before him. 

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft so as to not startle him. She places a gentle hand on his arm, coaxing him into looking up at her. “Are you okay?” 

Before he can respond, the booming of the perpetrator’s slurred mockery echoing throughout the small alleyway interrupts them both. 

“Oi, missy! Careful, the little foulblood’ll snatch yer coin purse when ye ain’t lookin’!” 

He looks at her with desperate eyes, his yellow tinted irises beginning to gloss over again as new sobs begin to wrack through his fragile looking body. “I didn’t— I swear, I didn’t do a-anything.” 

She searches his face for any sign of deceit, noticing the faint scar that ran along his cheek from his eye to the corner of his lip that looked like it had only healed somewhat recently. His body language resembles that of a frightened pup in a cage and his tears seem genuine, so she offers him a reassuring smile. “I believe you.” 

“‘M talkin’ ta ye, missy! Ye got shit for manners too?” The man yells again, the sound of the broken instrument clattering to the ground following it. 

She continues to ignore him, her stubborn nature refusing to let this drunkard intimidate her as she assumes that’s exactly what he wants, he wants to feel bigger than himself, and thus why he was picking on a child and a woman— easy targets for his drunken tirade. 

Her ignorance sets the man off into a blind rage, and she barely has a second to comprehend the situation before she hears a grunt of fury and large hands crash into the side of her body, surely bruising her ribs with the force it took to shove her to the ground, nearly knocking the breath from her lungs. She yelps as stone scrapes across her bare arm and the side of her head collides with the ground. The tiefling jumps backward and out of the line of fire of the older man’s warpath, eyes wide and boring into hers in terror. 

“Elara!” Gale calls out, pushing through the now dense crowd frantically. 

He finally makes it through, and the very second his eyes lock on her as she attempts to sit up, blood running down the side of her forearm and one hand clutching her ribs as the other presses over the tender spot where her skull met stone, fire burns through his veins. He’s at her side in an instant, gathering her up into his arms and holding on to her tightly. 

“Are you alright?” He asks her, his voice cracking with concern. 

She nods, then glances between him and the child backed against the wall, her main focus still on ensuring his safety. She motions to the child for him to stand with her, and Gale steps in front of them both protectively as he turns to face the drunkard. 

“‘S that yer boyfriend, eh, girly? Wanna know how it feels t’ be with a real man?” The man cackles, stumbling forward as he belly laughs at his own vile taunts. 

Gale’s composure is slipping and he feels heat in the center of his palm as it begins to emit a faint and crackling orange glow. His fingers twitch against the effort it takes not to hurl a fire bolt right at the bastard’s cocky face, but it seemed he wouldn’t have to as the man notices the faint glow of fire in Gale’s palm and begins to back away, fear etching into his weathered and sunburnt features. 

He raises his hands in surrender, then quickly rounds the corner and dashes down the alley without another word, and the wizard relaxes his hand, dispelling the cantrip from his palm. 

The air is still crackling with tension as the three of them try to steady their breathing, Gale in particular finding it difficult as the sight of her on the ground and her sweet face that, prior to this entire encounter, had been adorned with a smile that could stop a charging Minotaur in its tracks, twisted in pain and a gash on her arm. Not to mention the disgusting comment that foul—

Deep breaths. 

The crowd slowly begins to disperse, some eyeing Gale wearily as they begin to back away, some pointing at him and whispering to their counterparts, no doubt recognizing him as the great Gale of Waterdeep. Eventually they, too, depart, leaving only two of them and the tiefling who was still cowering behind Elara, gripping the back of her dress as if he would fall through a crack in the ground without her anchoring him. 

Gale spins around and cups Elara’s face gently, his umber eyes teeming with distress and a bit of anger as they scan her face for any further signs of injury or harm. Her icy blue eyes were glossy but he could see the restraint as she held back any tears from actually spilling. 

Gods, she has the most beautiful eyes. 

“Are you well? Did he hurt you? Is your head okay?” He asks frantically, the words tumbling from his lips in rapid succession as he gently turns her head to check each side of her face. 

She swallows hard and tries not to get lost in the way his strong but elegant hands feel on her skin as he fusses over her, and places her hand over one of his in an attempt at calming his distraught babbling. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” she shushes him, placing her other hand on his arm. “Everything is fine.” 

Gale frowns. “It is most certainly not fine, you hit your head and you’re bleeding. We should head back and clean that up, I’ll just run to the market tomorrow—”

“Gale.” She coos, cutting his rambling short.

He stops, his entire body stilling and a heat creeping to his cheeks. Reality washes over him again as he blinks out of his worrisome daze, and realizes his hands still on her cheeks, and her hand over his— oh, hells, her hands are so soft, so warm— and slowly begins to pull away. She nods her head in the direction of the child attached to her hip, reminding him that they had company still. He takes a deep breath and glances around, likely looking to see if he catches a glimpse of that bastard and hoping that he was still within range for him to send a witch bolt his way. He’s unable to hide his disappointment when his search is fruitless. 

The child’s eyes widen when Gale turns once again to face them and sighs deeply, his shoulders sinking low when all of the air exits his lungs, his body seeming to shrink with his posture. He slams his eyes shut tight, pinching the bridge of his nose and taking slow and steady breaths to calm himself. 

“Mystra, give me strength.” He murmurs under his breath.

Elara ignores the disgruntled wizard at her side, leaning down slightly to be closer to the smaller tiefling’s height. 

Elara smiles reassuringly and places her hands on his shoulders. “I’m so sorry about that. Are you okay?” 

The child stares up at her, his eyes darting back and forth between her and the man brooding behind her. 

“He’s with me, it’s alright.” She says, making her best attempt at a soothing and calm tone despite her voice wavering. 

The tiefling’s eyes dart to the wreckage that is left of what was once his instrument, and his frown deepens. “My lyre…” 

She follows his gaze, wincing when she sees the extensive damage. She could tell instantly upon inspection even from a distance that there was no repairing it, and it would simply need to be replaced. She offers him a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder. What was once what appeared to be a beautiful instrument, was now shattered into several jagged pieces, sprawling across the ground around them. She frowns, feeling regretful for its owner but also for herself— an echo of a memory from this morning when she heard her favorite song being strummed by it reverberating in her mind. 

“What’s your name?” She asks him. 

He bounces back and forth heel to toe, his hand behind his back timidly. His peach-tinted skin contrasts the dark mop of curls atop his head, with two small horns peeking out of them. He’s quite slender, but still has the tiny bit of pudge that a prepubescent child would have, his cheeks round and youthful. He reminds her of one of her adoptive cousins that she’d only seen occasionally when her aunt would make an all too rare appearance— she hadn’t seen the rest of her family since she was around his age. 

“Dex.” He says meekly, his face downcast and defeated as if he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Dex. I’m Elara, and this—” she motions to the man behind her. “is Gale.”

Gale’s attention snaps to her at the sound of his own name, clearly having been mentally elsewhere during the entire exchange. He meets the uncertain gaze of the child, and bows slightly, offering a warm smile. Dex smiles back, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the gesture. 

“Thank you, for helping me. I’m s-sorry you got hurt,” he points to her bloodied elbow and forearm, reminding her of the stinging sensation biting at her nerves shallowly within her skin. She winces but tries her best to disregard it. 

“I think I’ll live. I’m sorry about your lyre.” She says, motioning to the scattered wooden debris and frayed strings. 

He shrugs. “I’ll live.” 

She chuckles, her smile widening. Gale watches her with this unfamiliar child that she had no real reason to be so kind to, other than just out of the boundless kindness of her heart, and feels that warm twinge in his chest he’d grown all too familiar with since she made her grand entrance in his life. His heart skips several beats and the urge to whisk her away and kiss her on the stoop like he’d previously imagined becomes harder and harder to resist each passing second.

“Well, Dex. I think you’d best get going home. It’ll be dark before too long and I’m sure your parents will be worried. Hm?” She tries on her best schoolteacher voice, placing her hands on her hips. 

Dex sighs, his entire body shrinking at the mention of his parents. “I don’t want to go home without my lyre… they’ll be furious at me.”

She pauses for a moment, then shoots Gale a pleading glance, hoping he has any bright ideas that could magically fix everything for this poor child. She looked at him as if the child were a lost kitten that she was begging him to let her bring home. 

He looks toward the sky pensively for a moment, appearing as if he were doing calculations in his head, then wordlessly and effortlessly waves his hand in a flourish, whispering an incantation that reassembles the lyre with a purple hued fog of weave. 

Dex’s widened eyes sparkle with glee as each of the fractured pieces of the instrument rejoin as if they’d never been apart to begin with. The lyre floats toward the child, basked in violet and sapphire light, landing gently into his still shaky grasp. Gale smiles and nods at the boy as the light fades, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride. 

“Weeping bleeding hells! How did you do that?!” He chirps, turning the lyre in his hands and inspecting each and every inch of it in search of any cracks or imperfections, then smiling a wide toothy grin, his pointed teeth peeking over his lips when there is not a single dent or scratch to be found. 

Gale chuckles, then pats the boy on the shoulder. “Stay out of trouble, young man. Hopefully next time we see you will be under better circumstances.” 

The young tiefling glances back to Elara, the exuberant expression on his face contrasting the tear stains still present on his cheeks. Before she or Gale have any time to react, he throws his body between them, wrapping his tiny arms around the both of them as best as he could manage, and nuzzling his face into Elara’s arm. 

“Thank you! Thank you so much!” He says as he pulls away and turns to leave, glancing over his shoulder and waving to them one last time before scurrying off. 

She watches the boy disappear into the distance, skipping along the cobblestone streets with a childish glee that fills her with a wistful sensation— to be that young and for everything to be so new, for something as simple as a fixed lyre to make her completely forget any hurt or pain that had befallen her. She envies him, silently, as she watches him run home to his parents surely to regale everything that happened to him today, just as she wished she’d been able to every time something exciting happened to her during the day. 

Gale notices her sudden shift in demeanor, then places a hand placatingly on her uninjured arm. 

“Elara?” His voice is gentle and tepid, cautious. “Allow me to help you with this,” he says, motioning to the still leaking wound on her arm. “Let’s head back.” 

She sighs, turning to him but unable to muster a genuine smile, still taken by real memories and those that never came to pass. Her lips curl, but her eyes remain glossy and sullen. She nods, the motion small and nearly imperceptible. Without another word, they head back to the tower, her arm never leaving the comfort of Gale’s hand as they walk. 

Something so simple, something that could mean nothing. But to her, it meant everything. 

~

The scent of balsam and sandalwood fills the room as Gale’s adept fingers gently clean the scrape on her arm, his eyes narrowed and his brows knitted together in deep focus. He pestered her until he could coax her into sitting right in this seat where he could tend to her, much to her protest as she insisted she could do it herself and that he needn’t worry about her. 

Stubborn wizard, she grunted as he gently guided her to sit. He did not regard any of her disgruntled murmurs, her insistence that she was fine and not to worry. 

Just as she’d helped that boy on the street, he felt the least he could do is take gentle care of her the way she would anyone else. He wondered if anyone aside from Alastor had ever done so for her, her insistence on taking care of it herself giving him pause. Had she always had to pick herself up? Had no one ever swept in and dusted her off when she fell? 

He would. From now forward. Even if it were something as small and simple as rubbing balsam on the angry and gashed skin of her arm and wrapping it with the softest cloth he could find. He would be that for her. He would be anything for her, should she ask. 

It wasn’t lost on him how intimate of a gesture it was, to treat another’s wounds, either— he couldn’t deny that he simply just wanted to care for her in a way that felt deeper than just feeding her and providing a bed for her to sleep in. 

“That was incredibly admirable of you, back there. Stepping in like that. That boy won’t soon forget what you’ve done for him.” He says, his tone reverent and almost thankful. 

She smiles a soft smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “He seemed like a sweet kid. And I would hope someone would do the same if it were me, in his shoes.” 

She says it, but she realizes that Gale sort of had done the same for her— the way he stepped in and made the man back off. The way he stood in front of them protectively, blocking them with his body as if he were willing and ready to take whatever blows aimed at her in her place. 

“He’ll remember you, too,” she continues, her breath slightly catching as he begins to wrap the cloth around her arm, and wincing as the fabric brushes against the tender skin. “You kind of saved him twice. Saved him from a drunkard and an angry lecture from his parents.” 

He chuckles, shaking his head causing a stray strand of hair to fall into his eyes as he does. “I suppose so. You took care of all the heavy lifting, though. I just helped with the clean up.” 

She fights herself and her need to push that hair out of his eyes. Would that be too intimate? Would that push things too far? 

Her eyes lock on the strand as she speaks. “You did your own heavy lifting, for my sake. Thank you. For stepping in. And for this,” she motions to where his hands are gently tying off the ends of the cloth. “Even though you didn’t have to.” 

He finishes tying a very delicate but sturdy bow, then sits back slightly, still close enough to see every detail of her face as clearly as he could see his own in a mirror when he was close enough, and eyes her for a moment, a smile ghosting on the edges of his lips. 

“To do something for someone doesn’t always have to be borne of necessity or desire for reciprocity. I wanted to.” 

His face was so close, she could nearly feel his breath whispering across the flushed skin of her cheeks. She wants to say thank you again, but finds that every single word in her vocabulary has escaped her as she basks in this closeness and the way she can see the reflection of the flickering candle beside her in his dark eyes that still managed to seem so bright with the way they twinkled as he looked at her. 

Had he always looked at her this way? Why did this feel so different? 

“Can I ask you something?” He breaks the silence but not the tension as their gazes stay locked. 

She nods, still trapped in the daze of the intimacy of the moment. 

“Earlier, I couldn’t help but notice— and feel free to disregard my asking, if I’m overstepping— you seemed a little… off. When the boy ran off. You looked pensive.” 

She swallows hard despite her throat feeling dry, her entire body tensing at his questioning. The emotions of the day had fluctuated so immensely and the mention of the culmination of it all in that moment only serves to bid them to return in full force. A pit forms in her stomach and she feels the urge to retreat. 

“Perhaps a story for another time. I’m… it’s alright.” She tries to maintain composure, despite her words wavering upon delivery. She offers Gale that same smile from before— the one that never quite reached her eyes. He frowns, but nods. 

“Understood.” He says simply, their faces still dangerously close. He moves one hand to comfortingly cover hers as it rests on her knee, patting it gently. “I'm always here to offer an ear, whenever you need.” 

The warmth of his hand and his words radiates throughout her entire body, down to her bones. She notices the strand is still hanging in front of his eyes. She doesn’t hold herself back from brushing it away this time, her fingertips lightly graze his forehead as she tucks it behind his ear. Her hand lingers near his face for a while, but not nearly long enough, before she drops it back to her side. 

Gale looks taken aback by the gesture, quick fire flickers of shock, trepidation, then elation flashing across his expression. He smiles a smile that sends a shiver through her, his eyes dropping to her lips and the gap between them suddenly seeming so much smaller. 

Oh. 

It was getting smaller, as she realized that the magnetic pull between their lips was getting stronger as they both began to lean in, her body taking the reins as her mind tried to make sense of what was happening and determine if she were dreaming or not— was this just an infatuation induced hallucination? Had she finally lost it? 

“Mr. Dekarios?”

The sound of Tara’s voice calling from down the hall cuts the moment short, both of their heads snapping in the direction of the sudden intrusion. Gale sighs, his head falling in evident disappointment. He glances at her, her eyes wide and her cheeks a bright rosy red that makes his heart flutter. 

“To be continued, perhaps. I should—“ 

“No worries, go ahead. I’m going to go rest, my head is killing me.” She waves him off, attempting to hide her own disappointment and slight shock. 

Gale stares at her for a moment, the desire to kiss her still lingering but ebbing as he sees her pulling away, suddenly feeling as though he’d done something wrong. He opens his mouth to ask, but before he can she’s standing and quickly darting across the room and into the hall, stopping just at the doorway and peering at him over her shoulder. 

She sighs, placing a hand on the doorway and using it for support, her legs feeling as though they may give out on the spot. “Thank you, again.” 

He watches helplessly as she disappears into the hall and the sounds of her footsteps fade slowly, preceded by the sound of a  bedroom door clicking shut. His eyes pinch shut so tightly that it nearly hurts, and he sinks back into his chair, wishing a blackhole would form underneath him and swallow him. He could conjure one, if he wanted. 

He heavily considered it. 

“Mr. Dekarios, fix your posture! Your back already aches enough as it is,” Tara remarks as she strolls into the room, blissfully unaware of the havoc she’d just wreaked on his sanity. 

As per usual. 

~

There were a surprising amount of cracks in the ceiling above the bed in the room that she stayed in. 

Everything else in this tower seemed nearly pristine aside from appearing well lived in and well loved, Gale evidently cared greatly about his surroundings. The home was cluttered but organized to his exact liking, perfectly tidy but still cozy and comfortable. Anyone who entered would feel at home. 

She felt at home, more than she wanted to admit to herself. She tried to continue to remind herself that at some point she would have to leave and move on. But as she lay in this bed— this large, ever so comfortable bed— gaze trailing along the strangely cracked ceiling of her bedroom, she wondered what the ceiling of his bedroom looked like. 

She was certain there were no cracks in his bedroom ceiling. There couldn’t be. 

Today had been immensely overwhelming in terms of her feelings toward Gale that had been simply burning embers and were now alight in full force— him having stoked the fires tenfold with his seemingly innocent touches and his evident care for her that he put on full display multiple times throughout the day, all culminating in an almost-kiss. 

They almost kissed. He almost kissed her.

They were so close. She could still feel the heat of his breath against her cheeks and the skin of the back of her hand tingled with the sensation as if his hand remained there still, his thumb rubbing languid circles against her wrist. In fact, every part of her skin that he’d touched today still felt as if it had been electrically charged, still buzzing, and her stomach aching. She missed the feeling of him already and it was only a mere whisper of a taste rather than an entire bite. 

It wasn’t entirely her fault, obviously, that it never came to pass— Tara had a way of having serendipitously terrible timing. She wasn’t always sure that Tara didn’t know exactly what she was doing, and she wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case this time. 

It was endearing, most of the time. 

But even if Tara hadn’t interrupted— would she have really kissed him? Would he have really kissed her? Or would some other force of nature and horrible timing pluck them out of each other's grasps yet again? 

She thinks maybe he would have. She hopes. 

Now, she’s not sure she’ll ever get the chance to. 

Guilt began to gnaw and claw at her insides furiously as she remembered the way she’d exited the study— hurried and curtly— and the way hurt and confusion etched into his features as he watched her leave. She couldn’t explain why she left that way, she truly didn’t know. She wished she did. She wished she understood why she ever ran away from Gale in the moments when they felt the closest. The moments she had longed for for so long— so why wouldn’t she let herself enjoy them? 

It wasn’t that she was inexperienced in the romance department— she’d had a few partners here and there, mostly in school, and one since then that lasted a couple years but ultimately just didn’t work out— and if she’s being honest, she’d never been nervous around another person the way she was around him. 

And strangely enough, she felt very comfortable with him most of the time— aside from the occasional flips her gut did when she glanced up to see him at his desk, deep in thought and quill in hand, glasses perched just on the end of his nose as he read whatever scroll or tome he was fixated on.

He’s an easy person to just exist with. That is, if you aren’t hopelessly enamored with him. 

Gods. 

She clenches her eyes shut and pinches the bridge of her nose— another habit of Gale’s that she’d picked up— wishing the large quilt and plush mattress beneath her would just swallow her. Just take her away from it all and save her from having to deal with the consequences of her own idiocy. 

Knock knock. 

“Elara?” 

The sound of Gale’s voice on the other side of her door lurches her from her thoughts and her body up from the mattress. She quickly hops off of the bed and approaches the door, her hand hovering over the handle. 

“Yes?” She asks, turning her head so her voice appears further away than it actually was. 

She hears what sounds like feet shuffling aside from a brief pause, before hearing a long and defeated sigh. 

“Can we talk?” Is all he manages, dejection evident in his tone. 

She reaches for the handle again, turning it slowly and pulling the door just enough to see him through the crack. 

He looked the way he did when something was weighing heavily on his mind or vexing him— she could tell he’d been raking his fingers frantically through his hair as it was uncharacteristically messy and unkempt, his robes were nowhere to be seen, and he stood only in his white wrap shirt and his breeches. 

Not now, brain. Not now. 

“Everything alright?” She asks, trying to hide the sound of her swallowing the massive lump in her throat. 

He shakes his head, placing his hand against the wood grain and gently pushing it, opening it further. 

“The very question I came to ask you,” he retorts. “May I?” 

She nods, backing away from the door to give him enough room to push it the rest of the way open, her heart thudding a million a minute. He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame, his expression nearly unreadable. For as expressive as his eyes were, she had such a hard time understanding him or trying to sort out what mental storm was brewing in his head. 

“I could not bear resting my head upon my pillow and or fathom sleeping a wink tonight without knowing whether I’ve done something to upset you or not. If I crossed any lines today, please do tell me, and allow me to offer my most sincere of apologies for—“

What? 

“Gale—“ 

“—ever making you feel uncomfortable or uneasy in any way, I would never want to jeopardize the friendship that I feel we have formed over the course of your time here—”

“Gale, hold on—“ 

“—if I’ve done something to potentially sour anything, just know it was never my intention—“ 

“Gale!” She raises her voice in a final attempt to catch the rambling wizard’s attention, crossing the space between them and placing her hands on his shoulders. 

He takes a deep breath, his shoulders tense and she can feel the way his body trembles slightly. 

“Relax, please. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable. Ever.” She coos, rubbing circles with her thumb into his shoulder. 

A few days ago, a gesture like this would’ve made her entire being feel as though she were on fire— but after today, it felt right. After receiving such care and comfort from him, the least she felt she could do was to return it in kind. 

He stares at her incredulously, as if he simply just doesn’t believe a word she’s saying. 

“You don’t have to spare me, Elara. I saw the way you looked when you left the study. I never want to make you feel that way, ever again.” His face softens as he speaks, the pain of potentially slighting her in some way weighing heavily on his chest. 

She blinks a few times, then that gnawing guilt returns with even sharper teeth, maybe some claws too. She pinches her eyes shut and releases a long breath from her nose. 

“It wasn’t you. Truly. I just— there is a lot on my mind right now, and I don’t want to burden you with any of it. It’s okay, really.” 

It wasn’t a lie, at least not entirely. There was a lot on her mind— even if most of it was that of a certain brown eyed wizard who happened to be standing in her doorway, looking like that. 

A great portion of it was her family, though. How much she missed them all. Her uncle, she had begun to miss terribly. She wondered what antics he was up to, as his vague letters did little to quench her curiosity. She hoped he was safe, wherever he ended up or wherever he was heading to. 

She wanted nothing more than to curl up in her mother’s lap and tell her all about Waterdeep and her lovely tour guide and everything she’d done since she left Rivington. She wanted to hear her father go on and on about how he must meet this man that occupies his most precious and only daughter’s thoughts. She wanted to introduce him to them. They’d love him, she thinks.

No, she knows they would. 

His eyes find hers in the dim candlelight, searching them for something, anything that could answer at least one of the myriad of questions he wanted to but couldn’t find the nerve to ask. The pale blue moonlight filters in through the large window on the other side of the room, almost haloing her and basking her in an ethereal glow. 

“It’s not a burden if it’s taken on willingly,” he retorts. “I care for you, Elara. Allow me to lighten your load.” 

If the room had been any quieter, she swears the sound of her heart booming through the smaller space would be deafening. “It’s not important. You have many other things to concern yourself with, I don’t expect you to—”

“The only thing concerning me presently is—” he pauses. You, is what he wants to say, but can’t seem to wrench it out of himself. “What is important to you is important to me. I meant it when I told you that I would be here for you, no matter the situation.” 

How this man has not been wed yet, is beyond madness to her.

“Gale…” it comes out more as a plea, as she feels her resolve to maintain composure weakening bit by bit as the conversation continues. She was exhausted, physically and mentally. And really, she felt now really wasn’t a very opportune time for an orphan sob story. Not exactly the most pleasant thoughts to have to sleep on. She knew from experience. 

His shoulders sink. This was one of several attempts now that he’d made to break down the walls she had built up, and he was beginning to feel like the villain rather than the hero coming to rescue the trapped maiden from her tower. 

“I do apologize. I fear I’m overstepping once again. Here may be a good place to leave this conversation for now. I’ll let you rest.” He resigns, his words betraying the sullen expression he held. 

“Gale, no, I didn’t mean—” 

He holds his hand up to stop her. “It’s quite alright. Get some rest. Goodnight, Elara.” 

Before she can stop him, he turns to leave, pulling the door shut behind him. 

The room suddenly feels several degrees colder than it had prior to what had just occurred. She feels as though all of the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs and every bit of strength had been sapped from her body within a split second— emotional fortitude included, as tears that had been begging to be shed that she had been neglecting for longer than she could confidently say finally began to fall, slipping down her cheeks and wetting the collar of her night shirt. 

Her head falls back as she makes eye contact with the ceiling once again, gaze finding a large crack just above where she stood. It looked fresh, almost. Like it had occurred within the last day or so. 

She wondered if he noticed it while he stood in the doorway. 

She wondered if he was in his room, staring at the ceiling of his own bedroom, checking for cracks.

“Goodnight, Gale.” She whispers into the darkness of the night. 

tags: @goddess-bound @mirandpeglell @celestialowlbear 🩷 (thank u guys for ur love I hope u like this chapter!!!!)

this is part two of a series - ✧ (chapter 1)

[siriuslysatorusimping]

HAVE U READ THE NEW JJK LEAKS

"(ง'̀-'́)ง

MY SWEET FIGHTING ANON, HOW ARE YOU??

I’ve seen a few lil snippets but I’d stopped really keeping up with the leaks. I will say I LOVE that some of you immediately messaged me upon seeing the leaks 🥹😂 it made my morning to see messages in my inbox 💕 (this is my not subtle nudge to everyone that I love hearing from you guys, even if it’s just life updates or random shit. Pls, I get lonely 🥺)

Side note for the other sweet anon who messaged, I can’t answer that ask rn bc of obvious reasons, but I SEE YOU AND THINK OF THIS AS MY RESPONSE TO YOU AS WELL!!! IT MADE ME SO HAPPY INSIDE THAT YOU CALLED ME 'LOVE,' BTW. MY HEART DID A LIL JUMPY. 🥹💕

As for the leaks?

Me @ everyone losing their shit:

Spoilers for JJK 260 and a huge fucking Kiko rant below the cut.

I’ll believe it when it’s really confirmed. From what I saw, it was the last panel and there’s speculation on whether it’s really him or if Sukuna is seeing shit as he dies or any of the crazy possibilities.

That being said, if Gojo really is back, WELCOME BACK, YOU WONDERFUL, TRAUMATIZED BLUE-EYED BEAN OF A MAN. WE MISSED YOU SO MUCH.

And now my rant begins…

I’m on the fence. In all honesty, I think I’d finally accepted his death tbh. Because I remembered something that’s actually really interesting: some of the very best stories have stakes. They have death because it’s unfortunately a part of life. Gojo isn’t the MC of JJK, even though he’s an incredible character and I adore him and I still hate how he went out.

But while I still hate how that played out, I was actually thinking recently about how much credit we really don’t give Akutami. Writing is hard. World-building is hard. And he’s created a universe that’s truly incredible. The countless number of cursed techniques he’s written into the story, the number of characters he’s given depth possible without even meaning to? Genuinely incredible. He’s done something amazing. I had a ‘come to Jesus’ moment of realization that he’s actually an incredible story-teller. The story he’s built in his mind is amazing and I’m so glad he’s decided to share it with us. We’ve questioned him because we didn’t have all the pieces he has, but he’s said time and time again that he has things planned and he’s had things planned since the beginning. The medium he’s using to tell the story necessitates it being a bit choppy because he can’t explain every little thing every single time. There will be holes and gaps and things he reveals over time for the sake of the story he’s planned, and I know I forgot that fact when I was angry and grieving. (I’ve also been just losing my shit lately at how stupid some people are saying Akutami hates anime fans just because he killed Choso off. The number of comments I’ve seen about ‘hot characters aren’t allowed to die’ is just… these characters are more than eye candy. They have a purpose and emotional value in the story, specifically Choso as a big brother figure for Yuuji.) okay, fun lil side rant over lol

I think we forget that this is a shonen manga. Shonen are notorious for killing characters. I think of Hunter x Hunter, which Akutami has said is a big inspiration for him, the Chimera Ant Arc seemingly killed over half the cast. I’ve also seen a lot of anger at Akutami for him saying that he doesn’t care how many characters die as long as it’s a good story, and I think people missed the point because they were angry their favorite character died. But the thing is, he has a point. If the character deaths push the story forward, then it works. Yuuji has clearly had a power up that wouldn’t have happened if Gojo hadn’t died. On top of that, we criticized the month-long time skip, but these big reveals couldn’t have happened without it. So while it felt jarring, and it still doesn’t sit quite right with me, I understand why Akutami’s logic now. Again, I think of Hunter x Hunter’s chimera arc and how Gon had to watch Kite die and then fight his puppet corpse. Talk about traumatizing a fucking twelve year old. And adding to that, Akutami has literally said that this is meant for adults. He’s writing with an adult, predominantly male, audience in mind because that’s been the primary demographic for shonen for decades. So no, he isn’t writing with the female audience, or the young female audience, in mind because that’s not the genre he’s targeting. It just so happens that there’s been a huge surge in American teenagers obsessively consuming Asian media in the past few years and now it’s wildly popular among that demographic.

Basically what I’m saying is that gen z has developed the female counterpart for the fedora-wearing weirdos with waifu pillows in the obsession with hot guys in manga/anime. The difference is that they’re raging about a story following its chosen genre. But this is me generalizing things a lot and it obviously doesn’t apply to the majority of fans. I’m pretty sure a large part of our lil corner here is on the older end of gen z or younger millennial, but I could be wrong. Actually, I’d love to know what that split is 🤔 maybe I’ll do a poll.

ANYWAY, SORRY FOR THE RANT. IT WAS ME WORD-VOMITING TO START THE DAY. I HOPE YOU HAVE A LOVELY DAY OR AFTERNOON OR NIGHT!

[galvanizedfriend]

Hi Yokan 👋

I have questions

First question - how’re you doing? Hope life hasn’t been too stressful for you!

Second question - have you been reading anything that has really resonated with you in the last couple of weeks/months.

Third (and most weird) question - if you could choose a superpower what would you choose? (Dumb question I know😂)

Fourth question - most proud moment in your writing career.

And final question - how’s writing going with the Wolf? Hope you’ve not struggled too much in starting it!

hope your doing okay! ❤️

Hi, friend! How's it going?

Can I just say, it's so lovely to get all these questions! ✨ I love this so much, thank you! 💝

First: I'm ok! Work is always stressful these days, I don't think it's going to give me a break until at least September. 😂 But it's not the worst right now. Tomorrow is my birthday and I just the best piece of chocolate cake humanity has to offer, so I'm cool right now. 😇 Just wish tomorrow wasn't Monday. 🥲

Second: I have read 7 books this year so far, but nothing that's stood out as being great, sadly. :( Still haven't had a 5 stars. I finished a thriller called None of This is True by Lisa Jewell which was pretty good, if you're into thrillers. 4 stars, maybe.

In terms of fanfiction, I've have been reading random pieces of non-Kc fic, as per usual 😂 But I have also read The Little Wolf by @morningstargirl666, which is absolutely fantastic, if you haven't read it yet. It's a retelling of the show's canon about the Original family and how they were turned into vampires, with special focus on Klaus' werewolf heritage, and it's so, so, so good! And so much better than canon! It actually gives depth to the siblings' relationships, and it has so many little nods to what we know of them in the future. Beautifully woven! I have also read Till I Tasted You by @kirythestitchwitch, which is a canon divergent AU where a spell goes wrong and Caroline ends up finding out Klaus is her soulmate. It's hot, it has absolutely nom-nom-able dialogues and A+++ interactions between KC, it features Damon getting his ass kicked! I don't know, it's just the whole package. 🤌

Third: This would be a very weird question if I hadn't spent an irrational amount of time thinking about that. 😂 I guess it really depends on what kind of universe you mean, because it varies. But I would very much like to have telekinesis like Prue in Charmed.

Fourth: That's a tough one. I'm an extremely critical person of my own writing, so it's hard for me to feel proud of stuff I've done tbh. 😂 But I think I was pretty proud when I finished The Wolf 2. It's not my personal favorite thing I've ever written, but I think it's probably my best written story. I really like the final part of that story, the way I managed to tie it back to TVD, I think it was very full circle and made the story a lot more unique. I also had a lot of fun writing the Mikaelsons and Caroline back in Mystic Falls after the time they spent in Nola. 😂 So maybe that.

Final: It's... going. 🥲 I took a pause after writing two chapters back to back, tried to work on some other stuff, and then I circled back to it. I've actually just started the next chapter, have a couple of scenes. I don't think this first chapter will be a long one, but I think it will take a lot of editing tbh. 😂 I haven't been at most inspired right now, so not sure how much of what I've written will stand the test of a re-read. I had plans to get a chapter out before the end of the month, but I'm not sure I'll manage it. 🥲 We'll see how this week goes. Pray for me.

Thanks for the questions, friend! I hope you have a wonderful week! ✨

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

blurple time.

finally finished this~ months after he appeared 😅

you can tell there's a bit of a punk/industrial vibe infusing the whole design. i also drew from various details in the comics, and other random things like bulletproof leather jackets.

closeups, ramblings, (and a version with a cape) under the cut:

i was originally not planning to add a cape cause i wasn't sure if i could make it work and tbh. still not sure. i like the way the purple cape looks from behind but the inside is like. idk. if it's purple then it looks weird, but the black feels off to me too... I don't think any of the other colors would work.

oh also i decided this glows in the dark (predictable as always)

Helmet's been through some sketches and stuff, spent a while figuring out the mechanisms and so on and settled on this design in the end.

Obviously you can see here the top is leather, it's based on a combo of a motorcycle cowl (with an angled zip you can just see there, and then the shoulders from an armored motorcycle jacket i was looking at. then the blue is meant to be a (heavily) modified like, boilersuit or whatever those are. mechanic's jumpsuit.

Plus all the spikes. Obviously there's no spider-punk in this setting but I like the aesthetics, and I like giving Hobie like a little thing of his own in terms of hobbies/interests so I thought adding that punk aspect would be fun, esp as it ties into his whole thing with being unsure of himself and being a little different and so on.

the lenses are one piece each, just with different colors of film on them, like you see on a variety of custom motorcycle visors. used chrome silver for the white "eyes," which i think would look cool and matches the metal hardware. very reflective. hobie prob won't be the only design with chrome/mirrored lenses for reflective purposes (thinking about the hobgoblin) (well. technically peter will also have aluminized lenses at one point but that's a spare mask for fires, not a main look)

earlier concept which i drew on my phone actually lol. some of this i obv jus copy-pasted cause it was fine as is, other stuff got tweaked, like i ended up changing the lens shape to look a little more like the comics and i did end up scrapping that shape for the faceplate/chin.

and you can see there i edited a pic from the comics playing with what colors i wanted to use. i liked the steel blue that showed up in some of the older painted art from the Prowler's earliest appearances, and I felt like I wanted to give him a color other than purple and green, though I didn't wanna ditch the purple either, so I ended up with this kind of neon blurple + navy combo that I liked a lot. And the silver too.

back of the jacket and helmet. Didn't originally plan on adding all those spikes but then I was sketching this out and I was like, oh... that would look cool... so i committed!! i like how it looks.

Originally I also had no logo/symbol on the front of the chest so I decided to put one on the back. Then I ended up adding that flat panel to the chest and added the symbol there too, and decided to keep the back one as well. i can def see a 19 year old being like, hell yeah... sick... people will definitely take me seriously now. and you know what. he's right.

i will admit i ended up a little dissatisfied with the story i told involving the Prowler in the linked fic, but... I also probably shouldn't have tried to wedge it between like five warring subplots. But it was like, the spot that made the most sense. If this was a cartoon I think it would be a like... 1-2 issue special focused more on him. And also peter would jump out the window. (The real tragedy that I didn't include cause it's hilarious, poor Hobie XD)

Anywho. Is this mechanism needlessly complex? Perhaps. I tried to simplify it at one point but then the more I thought about it the less the simplified version worked so I stuck with the OG idea here. I mean, i guess I could have ditched the locking mechanism entirely but i thought it would be fun if the helmet was self-locking! I also wanted a way for it to rotate/go visor up even with the spikes, thus it being a pretty large rotating faceplate with the spikes on it instead of elsewhere. not that he ever puts it up in the fic. peter just takes hobie's helmet off there 😂

He's also wearing a balaclava under there which I didn't bother really drawing, mostly to protect his hair (which I put in twists for related reasons of helmet-wearing) (I briefly had been considering braids but then, well, ATSV and Miles G. happened and I said, well now I cannot do that XD) (I mean I COULD have but I wanted to do something else here lol) Anyway. The idea here is that it's a kind of slide lock with a spring-loaded peg that slots into the holes, and the square hole with the square peg locks the faceplate in place and prevents it from rotating, but when the square peg is in the round hole, the faceplate can rotate freely. The only wrinkle here would be that Hobie has to pull on both locks simultaneously or as close to it as possible or he'd risk cracking the helmet (i assume? stress and pressure etc.)

Sliding the lock forward also slides the whole plate forward, which lets me (in theory) have a flush, smooth silhouette while still allowing it to come forward enough to push up. It's not vacuum sealed or anything though. But it does have like... air filters and a voice modulator and some other things. MOST of the suit is super low tech and doesn't require electricity but the helmet probably has batteries or something. (peter's new webshooters at this point are also battery powered lol)

Helmet is pretty typical fiberglass construction with foam pads inside. Idea there is that Hobie made a lot of this stuff using campus workshop resources like autobody or machining shop on campus, for stuff like getting fiberglass, having a space to work in, making polycarbonate lenses etc. Though it's totally possible to do fiberglass work at home too. (peter also uses campus resources for his lenses specifically btw)

Gauntlets!!! Uhhhh ngl very difficult. Trying to design armored gauntlets that don't look like knightly armor is very hard for me cause I always just google reference pics of knightly armor. LOL. I think these came out alright. There's a hint of motocross influence there too (though really even in modern days armor is armor so there end up being shared traits) The gloves ended up being mostly leather with some armored parts, though there is probably some inner armor which is not visible. The claws I left bare since you would not be able to sharpen claws coated in plasti dip—

oh yeah the purple color on all the hard parts is plasti dip, which is basically rubber paint.

The wrist gauntlets are very very very loosely based on a guy's grappling rope web-shooter thing which you can see in this youtube video: link. though i didn't wanna just rip him off so i mostly just said, alright, tubes and a harness—which the prowler already has in the comics anyway, albeit smaller. so really it's pretty much like the comics anyway.

Right wrist has the green laser dazzler, both have grapples, left wrist has EMP (not pictured) which Hobie uses in the scene I have him and Peter fight except then I realized recently I didn't actually explain what that was or how it was working 😂 I probably should have done that scene from Hobie's POV in retrospect. It's an EMP though and it scrambles Peter's spidey sense via interference/signal noise.

(electromagnetic signals being responsible for several cases of irl "hauntings" —> spider-man's haunted)

waist utility belt... I like the way the silver belt on the old art looks! So I decided to make these hard silver hinged cases instead of soft pouches (originally were soft but I changed my mind while coloring) — IDK if these really are metal or if they're just fiberglass with chrome paint lol but either way, shiny chromey, hinged to open, the insides are probably padded... buckle is actually metal though.

Boots—modified snow boots. These are loosely based off of a real thing btw: link to blog post

The silver things are the magnets. Gauntlets are probably also magnetic but those are not visible like the boot ones. I also read some comments saying certain kinds of electromagnets would be preferable for something like boots but ultimately, IDK how to draw that, so I just drew it like they look in jen foxbot's prototype.

There was some other stuff I initially planned on including that didn't make the cut, aside from the cape. I was toying with stuff like a jetpack (or really, a jump jet), gliding/wingsuit, etc. but... I didn't use any of those. Kept it simple and streamlined for the most part. so no gliding for this Prowler, but hey, he's got magnet boots.

maybe in the future if Hobie ends up with an Iron Man-esque collapsible suit, perhaps he'll be able to fly, but for now, he's a college student making a supervillain persona so he can keep himself from getting evicted...

And his face!!! cutie :3 loosely inspired by Greg Eagles' face (the voice actor for grimm from billy and mandy) Not that ATSV had no impact on this design but that was the main thing. Twists to keep his hair protected in the helmet under the balaclava etc. and something he can do himself, and then a twist out afterward.

plus you can see the nose rings I mention in Creep here.

[solitaireships]

❓️ for the prompt meme (one of my favorite emojis tbh) - effiesaude

Emoji prompts: ❓ - “is this what you want?”

This prompt is now officially the longest thing I've written for on here, so thank you for the suggestion @orlz! I ended up going with Alexander for this, tho I did consider using Bruce for a bit bcs I associate that emoji with him a lot lol

Rating: G

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2033 words

Content warning: Mentions of plagues/epidemics

Divider by newlips (who apparently deactivated, but I have the link to the post with the dividers)

The sound of a bell ringing draw’s Xenia’s attention away from the monotony of reviewing shipping details at the counter of her bookshop. The work day is drawing to an end, and with that there always seems to be fewer people stopping by the bookshop. She doesn’t mind the break— there are always plenty of customers around lunch. But as her shift draws closer and closer to ending, a final push to keep herself from getting too tired is appreciated.

And it’s even more appreciated when she sees none other than Alexander walking in.

“General,” Xenia greets with a nod.

“Detective,” he replies. 

“Give me just ten more minutes.”

“Take all the time you need.”

He says that, but Xenia knows that time is a precious commodity. For the two of them, she would argue that it’s even more precious.

Xenia had thought that Alexander and his troops would leave after the Polyhedron fell. They had only come here to help deal with the Sand Pest. She had expected that they would leave after it had been dealt with, going off towards another military campaign. Especially with the commander at their head— everyone knows about Alexander Block, how he rose through the ranks to become a general younger than anyone had before. Big things were supposed to be ahead of him.

And yet he got sent to a dying town. He was sent to a village ravaged by a plague, with no medical team sent along with him to lend a hand. Sent with troops who planned a mutiny against him, left to solve a problem with no clear solution. It feels like too much of an oversight to have been an actual mistake, but as much as Xenia loves to pull at the threads of a mystery, trying to prove some grand conspiracy is beyond the scope of her amateur detective work.

Regardless, Alexander’s time in the Town-on-Gorkhon is far from what anyone could have expected it to be. With it already being outside of what’s expected, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the general decided to stay in town after the Polyhedron came down.

He’s kinder than Xenia would have expected from a man nicknamed General Ashes. He didn’t want to leave the town to heal on its own, left to pick up the pieces after an unimaginable tragedy. Not all of his troops were happy about the decision to stay in town, and neither were all of the town’s citizens. 

But at the end of the day, Xenia thinks that this will be for the best. When someone’s recovering from a sickness, others can help with the healing process. She doesn’t see a reason why things should be different for a town recovering from an illness. 

Though she might be biased in wanting Alexander to stay here. That was another surprising thing that came from him staying in town these past couple of months. 

Xenia had expected a lot of things from Alexander, but the last thing that she had expected was that she would start dating him. And for once not being able to predict things isn’t terrifying. Caring for him is one surprise she doesn’t dislike. 

Xenia finishes putting the store’s earnings away for the day, locking it up in a vault built into the floor behind her counter. When she gets back up, Alexander is standing by the shop’s door like he’s keeping guard, making sure that no one can come in to interrupt the closing process.

He’s affectionate in his own way. Xenia can appreciate that. She knows she doesn’t show she cares in the most traditional ways either. 

“I should be ready to go when you are,” Xenia says.

“You’re getting faster at that,” Alexander notes as she makes her way over to join him by the door.

“I’m trying to make the best of my time,” she says. 

After all, her time with Alexander is limited. The Powers That Be will always demand more of him, and the Capital will always find a way to keep him busy. He can’t be the town’s guardian forever.

Xenia and Alexander have about a month left together. Twenty-seven days including today— Xenia has been keeping track. She has to make sure she savors every moment she has with him. 

Xenia has never had much experience with relationships. She’s not the best with people in general. She’s good at studying them— figuring out how they work from a distance. But when it comes to getting close to them, she’s always struggled. 

And yet she managed to grow close to Alexander over the course of these last few months. Closer than she has been with anyone, really. She’s dated people twice before, but it wasn’t like this. She’s never fallen this hard or fast before.  

Xenia hates that she finally found someone she could see herself spending the rest of her life with, and things between them could end so soon. Maybe they can try to make things work even while he’s away. She’s always been a problem solver first and foremost, and she’s come up with a couple of ideas for how they could keep their relationship alive while they’re apart. 

But she’ll make the time she has left with Alexander last. 

Xenia will miss getting to go on walks with him like this though. Usually they talk, but today they’re quiet. Still they match steps with each other, the cold winter air from the steppe making Xenia wish she still had a face mask on her. But without that to provide any warmth she inches closer to Alexander so their arms brush against each other. 

Neither of them usually like public displays of affection. It feels awkward to know people could see them being close like this. The town knowing that they’re in a relationship is different from being able to see it, so they try not to do any more than hold hands in public. 

But Alexander doesn’t shy away from Xenia now. He wraps his arm around her shoulder, keeping her close. It’s sweet, something that’s usually reserved for private moments between the two of them.

“You’re warm,” Xenia compliments.

“Thank you,” Alexander says.

They keep going in silence for a while. The streets of the town are confusing to most, but Xenia’s memorized the flow of them. They’re curving and uneven, cutting odd paths more like something you’d see in biology than city planning. But there’s something about them that helps Xenia to think.

Mainly she tends to think about the future. The things she thinks of now aren’t as bleak as they used to be. But she keeps having thoughts of Alexander being there with her— maybe one day moving in, staying with her and being there for her like no one has before. Through birthdays and holidays and all of the unpleasant things that inevitably come with the passage of time. 

Things won’t work out that well. They don’t usually for her. But Xenia can’t stop thinking about staying with Alexander, about him staying a part of her life for as long as possible.

They need to talk about things. Xenia hates doing that. But they need to.

“You leave at the end of the month,” Xenia says. It sounds too sudden, but it’s a good enough start to the conversation.

Alexander nods. “I do.”

“We should talk about that.” 

Xenia doesn’t like the thought of looking at Alexander right now, so she focuses on the streets ahead of her. They’re winding with uneven cobblestones, and along the path she sees some twyre growing, somehow persisting despite it being out of season.

“What do you want to do?” she asks.

“What I’d like would be to continue dating you. But the distance makes things complicated. I don’t want to subject you to that,” Alexander says. 

“Right.”

At least it’s nice to know that he wishes they could stay together too. It doesn’t stop the ache in Xenia’s chest at the thought that this conversation may lead to them breaking up. 

Maybe she should give up. But she’s never been good at doing that. She’s always been desperate to find a way to make things work with everything. 

“But maybe first we could see how things go while you’re away,” Xenia says, glancing towards Alexander out of the corner of her eyes. 

“As in?” he questions. 

“As in we don’t break things off and try to make things work from a long distance,” she says. 

Alexander frowns. It’s hard to tell if he thinks the idea is bad or if he’s worried that Xenia’s just saying that because it’s what he’d want to hear. She’s pretty sure it’s the latter. 

“Is this what you want?” Alexander asks after a moment. “I’ll be away for months.”

“I know.” 

And that’s a thought that Xenia hates. She wishes that she could keep him here with her. The town is safer than any battlefield would be, and she’d be able to see his pretty face everyday. 

Alexander has responsibilities. Xenia knows that. She can’t be selfish and demand he stay. But she wishes she didn’t have to lose him. Not when she’s finally found a relationship that she thinks could last. 

“But I still want to be with you,” Xenia says. “We can write letters until you’re able to visit on leave. If you want to come here anyway.”

“I would like that. Though I’m not sure that I’m as gifted as you are with letter writing,” Alexander says. 

“You can’t be that bad. And either way, I’ll like hearing from you.” 

And, most importantly, getting letters from him will reassure her that he’s safe and alive. 

“I’ll like hearing from you too,” Alexander says. “I like you a lot, angel.”

It takes Xenia a second to process that he said the last part in English. His words are a little awkward and stilted— he’s clearly still getting the hang of the language.

“You— that was English,” Xenia manages to force out when she remembers she should speak. 

“It needs some work,” Alexander admits. “But you’ve always spoken to me in my native tongue. I thought you’d appreciate it if someone learned yours.”

Xenia struggles to find her words more now than she did when she thought they were going to break up. This might be the kindest thing someone has ever done for her, and she doesn’t think that Alexander even realizes how important this is. They haven’t said I love you to each other yet, but this conveys the idea just with different words. It feels like a commitment, like he’s saying he’s here for the long haul. Like maybe the thoughts Xenia had of settling down together in the future might be possible. 

“Thank you,” Xenia says. “I— how much have you learned?”

“Not much. I’ve been practicing for a week. Mostly more, ah, romantic phrases. I hoped to surprise you,” Alexander says. 

Xenia rests her hand on his back. “It was a really good surprise. Would you understand me if I said, you’re the handsomest man I’ve ever met?”

“I… understood the end.”

Xenia supposes she should have guessed he was more focused on learning ways to compliment her than to respond to her own flirtations. 

“How about you’re very pretty?” she tries. 

Alexander’s cheeks redden and Xenia’s pretty sure it’s not just from the cold. “Thank you.”

“You have a cute accent,” Xenia says with a laugh, leaning closer into him. 

“Your accent speaking Russian is very cute,” he replies, quick as ever to try to turn the compliment back on to her. 

“Thank you. I could help teach you more English if you wanted. Maybe I can give you some lessons in our letters.”

“I would appreciate it,” Alexander says. He holds her even closer with his arm as they turn down a narrower street, like he's trying to keep her fused to his side. “I really do like you a lot.”

“I like you a lot too,” Xenia promises. It’s not quite an I love you, but it’s close enough. And for once it’s easy to think that she could stay like this, feeling happy and loved, forever.

[airbrushfather]

@paz-45 asked so here are my 5 ee tattoos lmao (warning for me just rambling absolute shit under the cut)

my first ever tattoo - jon's handwriting and a wild wave because i love violent sun so much. looking back the handwriting tattoo isn't something i'd do today but it's what got me started on getting tats at all and i had a very positive experience (both w getting it and w asking jon for the writing lmao)

the teeth are not related, for the record. writing is about 6 months healed in this pic and almost 18 months healed now. also i know no one asked but since i love talking about tattoos - this is on the outside of my forearm and the pain was about a 3/10. super easy placement if you want somewhere to put a first tattoo that won't kill you off immediately.

classic lil gth hand. i always forget i have this because it's on the back of my arm (hence the bad photo too, say hello to my ear) but i do rlly love it, my artist did a very good job. it's about 5 months healed in this pic and just under 18 months healed now. this is on the back of my upper arm, the pain was probably a 4/10. a little spicy towards the inside but nowhere near the worst, certainly less painful than the inside of the bicep for instance. i also never find colour that bad (lines are worse imo) but i know some people do, so i guess if you came to this post looking for genuine tattoo advice, take that into consideration

these eyes are, technically, ee related - and please excuse this horrible photo, they're really hard to get a pic of! but me and my artist designed them together based on put me together's bridge - 'is it the darkest night/or is that dawn in your eyes?' it's a very important song to me and i love these tattoos, especially the dawn one with all the little details. it actually looks a little better now it's healed, it's settled into itself a lot more. they're super fresh in this pic (less than a month each, i got them within about a week of each other) and about a year healed now

pain wise this is a rough placement. the bottom one especially was one of my most painful tattoos - probably an 8/10. it proved i could never tattoo my actual knee because i genuinely had a terrible time of it. though weirdly the top one was really easy, probably a 6/10

i find this one incredibly hard to photograph bc of the way it wraps but my favourite line from final form (i stole the idea from someone in atb but it's one of my favourite sentiments, as in, this is my first body so i will make mistakes, and it is my last body so i will look after it). i broke one of my only tattoo rules for this too, which was No Words. i doubt i'll get any more words after this bc i don't think they'd really fit very well w the rest of mine, but i thought this was a really nice way to cuff my patchwork arm.

it's about 6 months healed in this video (from today). pain was probably another 8/10, wrist is a very spicy placement but not the worst one by any stretch. the outside (first body) was easier than the inside (last body) and it was definitely tolerable, tbh it was almost more annoying to heal than it was to get

i do have plans for more ee related tattoos (i want to get one from each album, so i have arc and rdf left to conquer) but atm i can't get anything because i have serious trust issies w new tattooists (and i love my artists who i know already) and my shop is currently 200 miles away. i'll probably get one in summertime if i have the money. i really like that for the most part they're not super obvious what they are, even the hand isn't bam in your face this is album artwork unless you're in the know. no hate to those kind of tattoos (ive seen some sick tattoos of the whole gth cover or at least the entire guy) it's just not my kind of thing, i like to be mysterious.

sorry for talking so much, but getting tattoos is my only personality trait. i could and would literally speak about it all day. consider this your formal piece of danny's tattoo advice. none of these are my most painful placements and none were my most painful tattoos, but everybody is different so if you genuinely do want this advice, take it with a grain of salt. and if anyone wants more of my advice/further tattoo tours, feel free to ask (idk why you'd want advice from me but i have probably about 40 tattoos at this point and i want to talk about it. because i'm boring and inufferable. i'm A Tattoo Person. this is my coming out </3)

cheers for looking x

[speedofsoundsketches]

I like you’re shadow and jolt comic giving me insperstion to create my own comic with my oc and shadow tbh I pictured my oc and shadow doing the same as shadow and jolt which is giving me courage to do my own comic with them fancomic obviously but do you have any tips on how development of a comic would work how long did it take for you to plan the comic

I've been working on this comic for about five years this coming November. From the start of developing the story to when the first comics were posted, it was about a three or four month long period of early development.

To be honest, I'm never NOT developing the comic. Each update is sort of treated as a self-contained session and while I have a plan of how everything connects, you don't really know how it'll actually work out until you're making the pages themselves and piecing the puzzle pieces together to make it all coherent. If you go to my Patreon, you'll see all the raw, first drafts of my comics and how much they changed in the final pages.

The following are my personal tips but I highly recommend also reading this post by the creator of Lackadaisy on the same subject. I followed her example for my work a lot and thankfully she's open about her secrets. :)

Tip #1: Know what your End Goal is for your comic

A lot of eager hopefuls start with a strong passion for their stories and it seems clear in your head how it will pan out. Over time, your interest starts to dwindle, passion is replaced with procrastination, writer's block occurs and you wonder why this thing you loved so much has become a total chore.

This is often due to not knowing the overall POINT to making your comic at all. What's the theme? The message? What do you and your audience GET out of it?

Shadow and Jolt has a clear progression and ending in mind that all relates to the Themes and Messages I want to impart to my readers. Try dissecting your favorite Sonic stories (or any story in general) and analyze why you like them and what made them impactful to you. Determine their themes and messages then observe how each part of the story, character arcs and such were written to serve them. What were the creators trying to tell you or make you experience?

That's the difference between a story with intention versus one that's confused or directionless. Because even during writer's block, if you know what message you're trying to tell, it gives you a lighthouse to paddle towards and keep you from getting lost in the ocean of vague notions.

Tip #2: Script It Out!

Before I ever drew a single comic for Shadow and Jolt, the first thing I did to help me develop a more solid plan was to write scripts. Some were fully realized with dialogue and action sequences. Others were outlines to help me see the full picture from beginning to end.

I've written over 30 different scripts. Many are just a few pages each but some are about 50+ pages.

And guess what? Every single one of them STINK.

These are not my best work because they don't need to be. They're meant for playing around with character dialogues, motivations, relationships and manner of speech. If a script resonates with me enough, I'll try doing a draft of it in comic form to see how it feels on paper and continue tweaking things from there. It was such a horribly cliche story at first but it's ok because to determine what's wrong, I need to see it actually in front of me and not as some ethereal mess of images in my mind.

Tip #3: Gather, Research and Conceptualize

I cannot stress enough how much doing this has helped with this project.

References I used included the games I liked the most, their production history, interviews with Sonic Team, compiled images/inspirations I found around the internet, etc. I used all this material to strengthen the ideas I had so I could start drawing concepts.

Characters, vehicles, environments.... everything and anything gets concepts. Lots of sketches, sometimes with color. I've possibly gone through almost 10+ sketchbooks for just Shadow and Jolt alone. There were a lot of things that needed testing and fleshing out, especially because it's such a big project. (and I'm just one little ol' me ;-;)

From the beginning, the plan was that Shadow and Jolt would be based on the games so my research was spent digging into the entire timeline and reminding myself of what the games are about and how to capture their essence as close as I can. I'm not sure what setting you plan to base this story on but you'll have a different set of research to do if you plan to include things from something else like Archie, Boom or whatever.

Tip #4: BEWARE SCOPE CREEP

In game development, teams start by deciding on the full scope of the project and settle on what's going to be in the game. The team makes projections on how long it'll take to complete it, set deadlines and then move to act on it.

A few weeks into production, maybe you decide to add a new animated action for the main character. Maybe then you add in a new weapon that will require another full move set to program and animate. Maybe you want to add a new character that you came up with during lunch. Maybe you have a whole extra side quest that adds a whole new plot point that adds even MORE characters who all have unique functions and animations you'll have to make-

See how quickly that can happen? That's scope creep. You start adding way more than was initially planned, thus it ends up extending the time it takes to actually finish the project.

Obviously, it's less dire than a product meant for sale but the lessons are the same. With any changes you make, be mindful of how that's going to effect you getting the story done and if it even really adds anything to your End Goal.

Remember, you only have so much energy in a given day to dedicate to your comic. Manage it wisely!

Tip #5: Live life!

This is a bit of an odd one maybe but for me at least, it's super valuable.

I've mentioned in previous posts how real world experiences helped inspire my comic. Part of what makes Sonic's world feel so lived in is the dedication the team put into making each level feel that way! Sonic Unleashed is maybe the best example of this point. I feel that Sonic was made by people who not only wanted to make a fun game series but who use it to celebrate the actual act of adventure. Living life, seeing new sights, meeting new people, eating unique cuisine, you catch my drift!

Some of my best ideas came from having a lived experience. You won't be able to write authentic stories staying in a bubble of your own making. Outside of my fancomic, I like going on long walks, exploring places or simply hanging out with my friends. So my final suggestion for you is to live a full life and be inspired by it! Nothing beats reality anyway. :)

[dilatorywriting]

hello ~ hello ~

Hope you're feeling better! I, personally, have been a bit dead to the world since late April. This past May was kinda odd, honestly. I think everyone I know and know of just. died for the month. Collectively. At once.

I actually wanted to slide in here and pick your brain about your ongoing Monster Mayhem stuff, if you're up for it? Just like a general status overview question, since I feel kinda out of the loop 😭 And also because I know that I tend to like talking about my feelings on my current wips, so I figured maybe you might too? If not, dw!

I'll put these in bullet points since it's kinda easier for me to organize my thoughts that way

Jack: I remember you saying awhile back that you expect Part 2 to be the final part. Is that still holding up, or does it feel like it'll be longer?

Rook: From the pacing, I'm getting the vibe that this one might be another 4 part story? mayhaps? Or maybe Rook isn't like the other girls TM and gets something different.

Vil: I haven't read this one yet, but I'm excited to sit down with it soon! What's the overall length/number of parts you're planning for at the moment?

I'm pretty sure this was asked at some point before, but what's your stance on epilogues? There has been... discussion. about a Leona epilogue before, I recall, but are you considering epilogues for all of them, or only specific characters?

What's like. your vibe, rn? With each of the stories? Like in terms of "I'm really feeling this, so I'm working on it and it might be posted in the nearish future, assuming no disasters" to like "I plan to continue this, but not rn. I've got a different worm chewing on the brain lettuce atm". Ik you literally just answered an ask similar to this, and said Leona part 4 & Vil part 2 are the one's you're focused on, so I guess this is more so geared towards the Jack and Rook ones? Or other stuff you're secretly planning. I have a vague memory of a "forgot your birthday" scenario that was on a poll a few months back

I'm honestly just curious, really. Back from the dead and wanted to catch up

Also I. have a third Monster Mayhem Azul brainrot. It's not a fluffy one. If I can wrangle it into something more coherent, I may send it your way. Not dissimilar to the fashion of throwing a pebble at someone's window to get their attention, but accidentally putting a hole through the glass, and taking off running.

-Reaper

I'm gonna put this all under a little cut thing just because I feel like there's quite a lot! So here we go~

Jack -- It would still only be two parts I think! I only had short plans for that going forward, and it's currently at the bottom of my bucket list so to speak, not for any big reason just because Jack isn't one of my favorites so he falls behind on what I actually want to write.

Rook -- Was a bit more up in the air in terms of what I wanted to do. Had started writing a third part for it, but Rook's in particular felt very like, episodic? If that makes sense? Rather than an overarching cohesive arc. So I could write so much more little random side stories! But aside from a bit I had sort of planned regarding Riddle, there wasn't too much specific I had in mind.

Vil -- Probably one or two more parts to wrap up what I wanted with him; most likely one of the same length as the first. But that one of all of them may get a separate little piece because I am such a sucker for mermaids/sirens soooo that may get some special love

Epilogues -- bit of a mish mash. Really depends how I'm feeling tbh. If I want to write something, I'll word vomit like no one's business, but if I'm not overly invested then I probably won't bother writing one. But again

Vibe Check -- I’m absolutely wiped. Not with these stories, because I do genuinely love them. But like, back to back tough placements on top of illness is a trip. So I’m a bit more tired and less motivated than I normally am, just because most of my brain is chewing on actual school work and case reports and trying to not make myself look like an idiot every time I’m asked for a diagnosis list and go “uuuuhhhhhhhh.” But! I have some brain worms. Right now — big thing I’m working on is the second half of a very long commission. Which is loads of fun but also there’s so much to chew over there, so that takes a lot of my brain. On the side, I was really also writing my Vil Siren Part 2. Because that’s also a lot on the brain and it’s very different Vibe to the commission, so like it’s a good one to go back and forth between depending on what mood I’m in. Jamil is also very On My Brain right now oddly enough. I think because I read a short little Naga piece a while ago and it reminded me how much I love them. So that's on my brain a lot. As for the others, Jack has sorta fallen to the wayside admittedly. Mostly because I adore him as a Bro, but he’d just not usually a character my brain swoons over, so he’s sort of just… existing. I also wasn’t entirely sure where I wanted to go with that other than just “oh wow we fixed it together!” And that’s a factor too. As for other things, the birthday one comes back and forth depending on my mood, but idk if that’ll ever go up. I have lots of it written, but not enough to post or really toss together straight away. If that makes sense

[wetcatspellcaster]

20 Q's for Fic Writers

Thanks @redrocketpanda for tagging me ^_^

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

11! 9 completed, 2 WIPs.

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

:)))))))) 831,063 :)))))))))) I don't wanna talk about it.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I am a fantasy videogames girlie, with a brief foray into Darklina sickness. I have written for BG3, Dragon Age, and Shadow and Bone.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? 

Party Favours at 1,804

The Stars Don't Shine They Burn at 1,196

A Bleeding Heart at 1,133

Pieces Still Stuck in Your Teeth at 1,026

Eye of the Storm at 645

Before this year I had no fics over 1,000 kudos, so that was a cool development in 2023!

5. Do you respond to comments?

I try to reply to everything, unless I am crippled by depression (or crippled by illness)

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That goes to!!! Sunblindness!!! The only time I've foregone 'I can fix him' for 'I can make him worse (and I deserve to, as a treat)'.

I was actually planning to end that fic with a major character death and then a close friend was like "jfc this is what people read for fun Emma, chill the fuck out"

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

The happiest ending is probably Party Favours? But I also think Stars Don't Shine They Burn with the 'I can't fix him I can make him fix himself, but at my end, I can also make us immortal soulmates' tied up pretty neatly, and I was very proud of it at the time.

(Also shout out to A Man's Word is His Bond for being the final chapter I'm happiest with.)

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope, not yet! I've had some entitled comments and a few mansplainers, and if anyone sends a WRITE MOAR comment when I have 9 completed fics and over 800k for people to read if they want to, I'll likely become pissed. But no hate!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Queen of the Fade to Black, the moment anyone touches anything racier than a waist when I'm the one behind the keyboard I start blushing :')))))))))

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have written one whole crossover, my darklina Shadow and Bone/Stardust AU, and tbh it sent me pretty feral at the time.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes :-) twice I think. it's fine.

12. There was no question 12 so I'll make one up myself: What's the longest you've ever spent working on one fic? And the shortest?

Screaming, crying, throwing up. I remember the Emma who used to only post fics once they were fully drafted. I remember writing a Zevran/Warden fic in a week in the height of living alone in lockdown. I also remember writing A Bleeding Heart in a worryingly brief 3-week period.

Then I got hit with the crippling depression. The longest I've spent working on a fic is 19 months for Sunblindness when I got the Big Sads.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nope! Not a group projects girlie. I'm here to cater to me and me alone.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Lol. Of the ones I've written for, it's a tie between Zevran/Surana and Astarion/Tav, as their dynamics were the funnest (seems rogue/mage is my jam). Of all time, it's Spike/Buffy - I have no need to write for them bc I am already well fed.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I have a Darklina Wintersmith AU that I have 2 out of 3 chapters down for and then BG3 full release happened. But the depressing answer to this question is 'original fiction projects' - I want to try and write something original but my confidence always fails me. I'm trying to transfer the things I enjoy about fic to original stuff to combat it but I'm not there yet!

16. What are your writing strengths?

Idk man, who could say? I think I'm good at dialogue/banter bc that's the compliment I receive most often in comments. I also think that if I've got a plot-twist in mind from the very beginning, I usually land it? The rest of the plot might be squiggly and messy as fuck, but if a scene was there when the fic was dreamt up (the ending of Sunblindness, the stag scene in my Stardust!AU, the agoraphobia reveal in A Bleeding Heart, the study scene in Pieces, etc.) then it usually ends up being received well and being exactly the way I pictured it in my head.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Can't write smut!!! It's the only thing holding me back!!!

(also if I have the choice between describing something in a sentence or in 3 paragraphs, I usually pick 3 paragraphs. Sometimes this is good, sometimes this is a fucking travesty. See answer to question 2!)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Amazing and encouraged but not something I can do, as I am bad at languages so it would just end up being a colonial hate crime facilitated by google translate.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age: Inquisition!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Despite the way that Full Access recontextualises it, my favourite fic is absolutely A Bleeding Heart. It was so much fun to write, it was my first time doing unreliable narration, and I was really proud of the plot twist in the final chapter. Also for someone who doesn't write smut, the fact that I got a friend to walk out of their house with the hair-pulling scene made me very smug tbh.

Tagging anyone who wants to do this!! I have made a bunch of new friends and mutuals lately, so if you're a writer and you want to answer these qus please do this so I can see your answers.