#this is going to end up being a long one...hopefully it doesn't take me forever.

[chaoticstrata]

WIP....just missed Wednesday...

by and hour. >.< Oh well, close enough.

I have more rookcanis for ya'll! This is a follow up to the fic I posted the other day. Enjoy this longer than normal tidbit! :)

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Rook bolted upright as he woke with a scream on his lips and a cold sweat on his skin. He breathed heavily, eyes darting around his room while he clenched his bed sheets. After a moment of realizing where he was he released the sheets and checked his hands, turning them over in front of him. They were fine, perfectly normal, save for the shaking he couldn’t stop. A soft, relieved sigh escaped Rook’s lips. 

Just a nightmare.

It was only a nightmare.

He swore he could hear faint laughter in the back of his mind as he repeated that mantra. Closing his eyes, he shook his head against it, as if trying to dislodge it from his waking mind. Letting out a long tired sigh, he scooted to the edge of the bed and slid off. Rook looked down at his hands again, they were still shaking and didn’t feel like they would stop any time soon. Frowning, he grabbed a loose shirt and slipped on his slippers before exiting his room into the small lounge with the aquarium. Rummaging through his pack, he pulled out a small tea tin and checked the contents--which was harder to do with the shaking. 

Just enough for one or two more cups.

Closing it, he stood and made his way over to the dinner hall. He frowned at the bright sky of the Fade, wishing not for the first time that it followed real world rules, at least in regards to day and night cycles. He’d kill for a starry night sky…but he guessed he couldn’t complain since the Lighthouse did provide them with a safe haven from the Gods.

At the door to the hall, he hesitated.

Rook knew his fellow Crow was most likely awake. He usually preferred to avoid people after waking from this particular nightmare, mostly to avoid the questions. However, trying to get back to sleep without the aid of the tea would be…difficult. Maybe if he stayed as quiet as possible, he could stealthy make his drink and leave without notice. Steeling himself, he entered the hall as quietly as he could and removed his slippers so he could walk around on silent bare feet. The floor was cold, but leagues better than the polished wood floor of his home back in Terviso.

Working quickly and quietly, he got some water boiling for his tea. He then set about getting the tea ready to steep, pulling out an empty sachet and opening the tin again.  Soft cursing escaped his lips as his trembling hands made the task more difficult than it should have been.

“Rook?”

The all too familiar voice suddenly behind him nearly had him flinging the tin at his fellow assassin. Rook spun around to face the confused man standing a few feet behind him.

“Maker, Lucanis! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he chided.

A dark brow rose as bemusement bled into amusement.

“Sneak? I simply walked from my seat to you,” Lucanis responded, motioning to the cozy corner. He shifted to one foot, arms crossed as he balanced his cup in the palm of his hand.

“Of course you did,” Rook sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Rook…” There was a tone shift in the other assassin’s voice, one of concern. “Are you alright?”

Rook’s eyes popped open, where he noticed his shaking hand was on full display with what he was doing. He quickly lowered it, fist clenching to hide the trembling--not that it would help at this point. Looking away for a moment he plastered on a grin and replied, “Yeah, just fine.”

“....” Lucanis gave him a look that read he wasn’t buying Rook’s shit. “For a Crow, you’re a terrible liar.”

The mage actually laughed at that. 

“I’m a perfectly fine liar, actually…I just have trouble lying to those I care about,” he countered, giving Lucanis a rueful grin. Rook held out his hands to show the other man their shaking. “I am fine…really. It’s just a bad nightmare stirring up old fears.”

Rook expected little more than an awkward ‘Oh, sorry’ and silence to follow, so color him surprised when Lucanis set down his cup and took Rook’s hands. Calloused thumbs gently rubbing over palms briefly before the other Crow pulled him towards the table.

“Sit,” Lucanis murmured, “I’ll get your tea ready.”

“You don’t have-”

“Sit,” the older Crow repeated, placing firm hands on his shoulders to guide him into the chair at the end of the table.

“You really are stubborn aren’t you?” Rook laughed as he sat down.

Lucanis flashed him a crooked grin, eyes creased with crows feet. “Pot, kettle.”

“Fair,” the younger man laughed, sitting back in the chair as Lucanis returned to the small beverage station. He watched the older Crow fill the sachet with careful, steady hands and tie it off before closing the tin. The kettle was already boiling at that point and Lucanis retrieved it, pouring its steaming contents into the cup he pulled--one of his cups with the nice silver and purple. Rook felt a small giddy rush surge through him when he saw it.

“How do you like your tea?” Lucanis asked as he placed the sachet in the water and placed a saucer over it.

“For that one? Don’t add anything to it, sugar and cream would defeat the point,” Rook replied, chuckling softly. His tone turned a bit teasing when Lucanis brought over the cup and set it next to him. “I have to admit…I didn’t think you’d be so adept at making tea.”

Lucanis grinned as he took the seat next to him. “I may not care for it, but there are those I care about who do love their tea.”

“And you enjoy making it for them. Makes sense,” Rook chuckled, secretly hoping he might be among those people--even if his preferred drink was coffee as well. They exchanged a bit more small talk--mainly about their favorite roast--until the tea had steeped long enough. Rook took the saucer off the cup, frowning as it shook with his hand. He placed the tea bag on it before lifting the cup as carefully as he could. Which was difficult with the tremors. From under his breath he let out a few choice words in Antivan and Elven.

"Here," the older man said.

A soft gasp escaped Rook when Lucanis gently cupped his hands around his own, steadying them and the tea.

“What are-”

“Let me help,” Lucanis murmured, guiding Rook’s hands closer to his face, “I can’t imagine spilling hot tea on yourself will help matters.”

“No, it probably wouldn’t,” the younger man said quietly. His cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as he leaned forward and brought the cup to his lips with Lucanis’ help. Lightly, he blew on the tea to cool it a little before taking a long sip. He made a face at the flavor--it never was one of his favorites--to which Lucanis chuckled softly. He felt his cheeks flush again as he lowered the cup, holding it with his hands in his lap. Surprisingly, Lucanis didn’t let go. Instead, calloused thumbs ran over Rook’s, causing the younger man to shiver at the contact. Rook licked his lips and cleared his throat.

“Thank you,” he responded softly, “for the help.”

“My pleasure,” Lucanis replied, watching him carefully. After a moment, the man tilted his head like a curious bird.

“What?” Rook asked with a nervous laugh. “Did I get something on my face?”

“Would you like to talk about it?” Lucanis asked after a moment, “Your nightmare.”

The younger Crow looked at him in surprise, eyes widening slightly. No one had ever asked him to talk about his nightmares, save for his mother and father. Most paid no mind, if only because everyone had nightmares in their line of work. There were few who didn’t and those were ones most gave a wide berth to out of fear.

Rook hesitated. Did he want to talk about it with Lucanis? This wasn’t the typical one off nightmare, nor would it be easily explained without context. Not only that, it also involved Rook’s greatest fear--one that he was worried would affect the other man…He looked down at their hands, his cradle between Lucanis’ so tenderly. For whatever reason, the contact made Rook feel safe. Just being near Lucanis made him feel safe.

So he supposed he had his answer. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. “Lucanis, I-”

“You don’t have to,” the older man interrupted, hands gently squeezing his own. Rook looked up and found Lucanis looking away, a small self-deprecation grin on his lips. “I understand the desire to keep one's demon’s secret.”

“Fair,” Rook chuckled, giving the other Crow a grin when he looked back, “But I was going to say I didn’t know where to start.”

It was truly adorable, the way the Demon of Vyrantium blushed.

[hangup119]

don't get the deal | h. taesan (TEASER)

being the shoulder to cry on is no easy task - especially not for han taesan, who has lived almost half of his life painfully smitten over someone he is confident would never, ever think of wanting him as more than just a friend. he wonders if he will ever get out of this so-called "friend zone," or maybe he just doesn't get the deal at all.

pairing. han taesan x fem. reader

genres + warnings. friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, one-sided pining, eventual happy ending, slight angst + profanity, taesan is bad at feelings, reader is even worse

playlist. don't get the deal by beabadoobee; but i like you by boy next door; somethin' stupid by frank sinatra; about a girl by nirvana; disasterology by pierce the veil; if i'm james dean, you're audrey hepburn by sleeping with sirens

expected word count. 7k-10k words | teaser word count. 1.3k words

author's note. hey goisss... ive had this in the drafts for so so long but for some reason i started working on it again and im nearing the end so hopefully this will be out very soon !!! dont quote me on that tho live laugh love user hangup119's work ethic <3 ALSO btw this teaser is like a flashback kinda thing but the real story actually takes place in their college days

@onedoornet | reblogs appreciated!

IT WAS HIGH SCHOOL WHEN YOU RUINED TAESAN'S LIFE FOREVER.

To be more specific, it was during your last year of high school when he realized that there was simply no way he was ever going to win you over. Not now, and certainly not ever.

Because here’s the thing: Taesan was not a bad-looking guy, he’s far from it, actually. In fact, he had enough business cards from agency recruiters that could fit a whole shoe box, so his looks clearly were never the problem here. Was it his personality, then? Probably not that, either. He was pretty chill most of the time, and he had never really acted up around anyone unless it truly called for it. He always made sure that he wasn’t making a fool out of himself around you, and there were never really incidents that could have painted him in a bad light in your eyes. He had decent grades, so he wasn’t stupid either, which was one of your major turn-offs. And he was sporty—he participated in the school’s soccer team, and he even had a bunch of fans giggling over him whenever he so much as passed them by while chasing after the ball, so his popularity was pretty decent too.

Was he simply not… your type? But that couldn’t be—you were always making heart eyes at Park Sunghoon who was two grades above, and he was told all the time that he was basically a lookalike of the guy! Not to mention you were always at Jung Sungchan’s games, cheering his name even when the guy was literally being benched. Taesan never got benched. He was the star player of his soccer team. You fawned over Park Wonbin when he performed at the school’s talent show, but Taesan could also sing and play the electric guitar just as well. You squealed over Lee Sohee because he was sooo cute! but Taesan knew how to get real fucking adorable, too! He practically had all of their qualities combined into one, and not once did you ever look back at him. 

And that’s when it hit him. 

It was prom that night, and he was off at the corner drinking from a cup of water instead of jumping along with the fray and bouncing up and down to some Drake song when his friend, Kim Leehan, approached him. 

“I’m not slow-dancing with you, Leehan,” he muttered, taking another sip of his bland water. “Piss off.”

Leehan raised his arms in response, smiling in a way that was just so Leehan-like of him. “Woah, woah, I get it. Someone pissed in your cup, or something? Literally and figuratively,” he laughed, leaning against the wall next to him. “Lighten up for once, ‘san. It’s your first and last prom, you know?” 

Taesan only grunted in return. 

“Look at you; so emo tonight,” Leehan said, defeated. He followed the other’s gaze towards the dance floor, where everyone is packed together like a can of sardines. “But you’re always so normal around Y/N.” 

Taesan paused.

Leehan laughed again. “Hm, maybe not?” 

Sometimes, it was both a blessing and a curse to be friends with someone like Kim Leehan. 

“Stop talking about things you already know,” Taesan murmured, chucking the water cup into the trash can a few meters away. He placed his hands inside his pockets, looking straight ahead amidst the dizzying lights and the dispersed crowd now that a slow song started playing.

“Why don’t you go ask her for a dance?” Leehan suggested, signaling towards the dance floor. 

“She’s literally holding hands with Yang Jungwon right now,” Taesan deadpanned. “Are you kidding me? How’d she get him of all people as her prom date?” 

Scoring the smartest and the most popular student in your school has got to be the biggest flex of your high school career. Taesan had almost no complaints except for the fact that Yang Jungwon was your date instead of—him! Any moment now and he’d be losing his mind. Actually, scratch that, he probably already was. 

Leehan hummed. 

“Do you think,” he began, slowly, darting his line of sight between you who’s giggling at something Yang Jungwon said, before turning back to Taesan, the angstiest kid he’s ever known. “That, maybe, if you had just asked her out to prom with you… then maybe she’d have said yes?” 

Finally, the gears inside Taesan’s head started to turn. Leehan smiled at the sight.

Taesan quickly scoffed. “No way,” he denied, crossing his arms. “Why would she go with me when she’s got Yang Jungwon as her date? It’d only happen in my dreams.” 

He figured it out anyway. It wasn’t because he wasn’t as handsome as Park Sunghoon, or as sporty as Jung Sungchan, or as musically talented as Park Wonbin (though he’d beg to differ), or as cute as Lee Sohee. Heck, it wasn’t even because he wasn’t as smart or as popular as Yang Jungwon. 

Maybe it was never because of those things that made you look at them instead of him. 

Maybe you were just never interested in him at all. 

And Taesan will have no other choice but to live with that fact forever. 

Leehan’s smile dropped, and he peeled himself away from the wall. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a second just to say: “You’re so—stubborn.” 

Taesan looked at him indignantly. “...What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Leehan shrugged, finally walking away. “You tell me, dude.” 

And then he was gone, rushing off to join the rest of their friends while Taesan stayed in the back, alone and miserable all because of his newfound epiphany. Though he supposed he was already miserable the moment you entered the venue with Yang Jungwon right beside you. 

It was a time of new beginnings for Taesan; a time to finally move on from you. 

Though, if only it was that easy.

Two weeks later, when you were working on a final project with him, you unexpectedly dropped the news that you and Jungwon have broken up. Because Jungwon was going to some Ivy League, and you were decidedly… not. You couldn’t handle the thought of being long-distance, so you decided to just cut things off with him since it can’t be helped, you know? And then you proceeded to laugh it off with that huge, idiotic smile of yours before continuing on with the project. Taesan didn’t know what was so funny.

Eventually, he had to share his water with you when you started sobbing hysterically inside of the library, hiccuping and all. 

He admittedly felt awful seeing you cry over Yang Jungwon, your high school boyfriend of probably only two months, but most importantly, he felt awful because of the relief that suddenly washed over him. 

…And what did that make Taesan?

So, really, maybe it was for the better that you would never look at Taesan the way he wished you would. That no matter how many times he has lent you an ear to talk to or a shoulder to cry on, you never bothered to stop for a moment and think that hey, maybe this guy likes me to some capacity, and maybe I should give him a chance. Because what kind of friend is he to feel relieved at the fact that you had gotten dumped by your boyfriend? That when your heart was broken, he could only rejoice at the fact that he now has a higher chance of getting with you once again even when it is so clear that he never once did? 

How could he sit next to you and think such thoughts? 

And yet, even when you keep jumping from one person to another, falling for someone, crying over another—Taesan will always be there for you when it all comes crashing down. A friend to cheer you on, to lift you up, to steady you—because that’s all he’ll ever be to you. 

Han Taesan was only seventeen years old when you ruined his life. 

And for what it is worth, he is still in love with you.

story by hangup119. do not steal.

[hard-core-super-star]

Hey rubix!! I just watched the marvels and I LOVED it!!! I was wondering if you could do a carol x reader fic where Carol is introducing her gf to Monica and Kamala and they just click really quickly and bond 😭

I’m going on a carol rampage atm bc she just looked too GOOD 🤭

- ✨

if forever will have me [C.Danvers]

paring: carol danvers x reader

summary: your girlfriend brings two stowaways on board after a rough mission, you welcome them with open arms while carol tries to adjust.

warnings: none?; fluff with minimal plot; carol's a dorky mess and we love her for it; brief emotional moments but nothing too drastic; R's a mom friend in this one frfr; not proofread; i still suck at endings

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: I AM SO SORRY FOR TAKING OVER A YEAR TO WRITE THIS 😭 you deserved so much better, lovely anon, please forgive me. in an effort to make it up to you, i turned this into a longer fic than i originally planned, and sort of tweaked the movie plot a little because i felt it was missing a few scenes like this. i really hope you enjoy (and that i didn't totally forget how to write for carol) and once again, i'm so sorry for taking so long to write this. hopefully, there'll be more carol fic in the making soon <3

* * * * * * *

To say you were worried about Carol would be an understatement. 

While it wasn't completely unusual to go a few days without hearing from her, thanks to how chaotic her job could get, she always made sure to update you as soon as possible. Especially when you were staying in her spaceship catsitting.

Truth be told, Goose didn't really need babysitting. Mainly because more often than not, Carol just took the alien cat with her, both for comfort and companionship. However, it gave the blonde the perfect excuse to convince you to join her.

Again, you didn't really need convincing, but it made your girlfriend feel better when you were brought on board as part of her team. Her "team" being you and her...and Goose...and the occasional call from Nick Fury...and King Valkyrie. As much as the blonde insisted she preferred working alone, she was surrounded by a pretty badass support system.

Said support system wasn't enough to help her with her newest problem, though.

A problem that even you weren't qualified to help her with.

Ship full of homeless Skrulls and emotional visit from the King of Asgard aside, it was nice to have other people aboard. Even if one of those people was Carol's sort of adopted (and abandoned) daughter and the other one was a teenage girl who was quite literally Captain Marvel's biggest fan. They might not have been your first choice of companions, but you were nothing if not a welcoming host.

As soon as King Valkyrie transported the Skrull refugees back to Asgard with her, you made your way to your girlfriend's side.

"Hey," you say, you hand reaching out to take hers. "Rough day?"

Your words make her chuckle despite herself. "That's an understatement."

"What do you need from me?"

"Just...don't let go."

Her arms envelop you before you can even try to question her. You happily return her embrace, allowing her to bury her face against your shoulder and let out the heaviest sigh you've heard in a while. She doesn't have to say anything for you to known she's trying to decompress after the shit show that's gone down.

You hold the blonde close as you run your hand up and down her back, eyes bouncing back and forth between Monica and Carol's biggest fan. As awkward as it is for you, you can't imagine it's any easier for them so, you break the silence.

"Cool ship, right?"

They both nod, although the older of the two looks anywhere but you. You can't really blame her considering her history with Carol and how weird the whole situation is. A situation you still don't know any details of.

"Is, uh, is she okay?" The younger brunette ask.

"Oh, yeah, she's just...recharging."

Your girlfriend grumbles something in response, but you don't pay her any mind. It's not your fault she's literally a human lamp.

You sidestep the two of you until you're out of sight. It's not like you want to be secretive or anything, there's just a higher chance the blonde will tell you what's wrong if it's just the two of you.

"Hey, babe," you murmur.

She grumbles once more, slowly detaching herself from your neck. The glassiness of her eyes instantly makes alarms ring in your head.

"Carol-"

Your girlfriend instantly shrugs you off. "I'm fine, I just...need some time."

As badly as you want to argue with her, the last thing she needs right now is more difficulties.

"So, you're just going to leave me here with your new friends?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"You'll be fine, it's not like they're too happy with me either right now."

She tries to laugh it off, but you're no fool. You can see the heaviness on her shoulders, the far-away look in her eye that can't mean anything good. As badly as you want to go with her, you know she needs some time to catch her breath on her own.

So, you let her go, leaving you alone with the newest members of your unofficial team.

Not even five seconds go by before the silence is interrupted by the young brunette. "I didn't know Captain Marvel had a girlfriend."

"Does that mean no one talks about me in the fan forums?"

"That's probably for the best."

You cross the small space until you're in front of them, offering them the warmest smile you can muster. "Listen, I know this situation isn't ideal, but it's nice to have other people on the ship."

Monica gives you the smallest of smiles in response, which might not be much, but it's a start. A start you're not about to waste.

"Let's start over, yeah?" You say, somewhat aware of how shitty they must be feeling too, if Carol's barely hidden emotions are anything to go by. "I'm y/n, this ship's second captain."

"Kamala." She eagerly shakes your hand. "This ship's nice. Actually, it's really awesome."

"I know," you whisper in response, earning yourself a brighter smile.

Once Kamala finally releases your hand, you turn to face the older brunette. The soft look in her eyes does little to soothe your nervousness. You'd imagined meeting her many times before, although under much better circumstances.

"Oh, I'm Monica, but I'm assuming you already knew that."

"Yeah, it's really nice to meet you."

The sincerity in your voice seems to catch her off-guard, but she recovers before you can call her out on it. And by recover, all she really does is sidestep the conversation you need to have.

"Do you think Carol needs help?" She asks.

"Oh, she needs a lot of help but good luck getting through to her," you reply with an affectionate roll of your eyes.

Kamala barely stifles a laugh at your words, clearly enjoying the dynamic you're starting to form with them. While Carol wasn't exactly hard to read, she could be a little rough around the edges at first, especially when placed in stressful situations she feels responsible for.

Monica, on the other hand, lets out a long sigh. "I meant with the ship."

"Oh, yeah, probably. Just know she'll say no if you ask her."

"Yeah, I had a feeling."

 There's an edge of nostalgia to her words that you understand all too well. As badly as you want to talk to her about it, to reassure her that what happened wasn't her fault, that Carol still cares, you know it's not your place.

Unfortunately, you're also aware of how awkward your girlfriend can be. It's as endearing as it is frustrating.

While Monica goes down to the ship's engine room to talk to Carol, you stay with Kamala. 

You let her admire the place for a few moments before you speak up again. "Hey, you okay? Want to talk about what happened?"

Her eyes remain glued to Goose, busying herself with petting her even while she responds to your question. "You mean how I totally got scolded by my idol?"

You honestly have no idea what she's talking about, but you want her to feel supported, so you nod anyway. "Sure, if you want to."

The only response you get for a few seconds is a heavy sigh. You can see her shoulders slumping forward as she allows herself to finally accept how she's feeling. "I really didn't think our first meeting would go like this. It was supposed to be cooler, y'know? Full of bonding and really funny jokes and me getting to show off my awesome powers. Instead, I just messed up and made THE Captain Marvel mad."

You do your best to stifle the laughter that threatens to bubble up inside your throat. The last thing you want to do is invalidate her feelings but...you can't deny how amusing her rambling is.

"Sweetheart, I promise you Carol's not mad at you and I don't even know what happened. She's just protective. And really stubborn. And not the best team player."

Your words seem to bring little comfort to her. "I just...I don't want to disappoint her."

Kamala's voice breaks at the end, leading you to spring into action faster than you can even process. Even though you're not exactly sure how to comfort her, you know you have to do something. At least until Carol comes back.

"Hey," you say as you walk over to her, your arms wide open for her. "You won't. You're not going to disappoint anyone, okay? I guarantee you Carol's beating herself up for yelling at you. She's a captain, not a tyrant."

Your words make her chuckle even as she accepts the hug offer. She might not fully believe you right now, but that's okay. All that matters to you is that she doesn't feel like an outsider. Because as weird as it might be, you're all in this together now and that means being there for each other.

A few seconds go by before she speaks up again.

"Hey, um...is there somewhere I could shower?"

"Yeah, let me show you."

You show Kamala to the bathroom, helping her figure out how the shower works and giving her some of Carol's oversized clothes to wear. It's a small thing, but you hope it'll help her feel a little more at home in your large spaceship. It'd taken you a long time to get used to the whole being in space thing too.

Once you get back to the main area, you find Monica again, a thin layer of tears making her brown eyes sparkle. You're not exactly sure how to approach her, or if she even wants to be approached, but you know you have to do something. As much as you love Carol, you don't trust she didn't accidentally stick her foot in her mouth.

Monica watches you approach, silently analyzing your next move.

As much as you want to simply walk away, you can't. Not when you know how hard your girlfriend has been on herself about what happened with Monica and her mom.

"It's been hard for her too, y'know?" You say with a soft smile.

She blinks a few times, seemingly trying to hide how affected she is. "Oh, I don't...I'm fine."

Maybe you should leave it alone, it's technically none of your business, and yet...you can't stop yourself from prying a little. Mainly since you're also acutely aware of the team-up situation they find themselves in. The last thing they needis to be at each other's throats because of their past.

"Yeah? Is that why you can't look at Carol for more than five seconds?"

Her jaw clenches at that, but you stand firm. Or as firm as you can be when you're staring down the barrel of a loaded gun. The gun in question being Monica's exasperated expression.

"You have no idea what you're talking about."

Despite her attempt at sounding mad, the way her voice cracks reveals the true feelings lingering under the surface. The ones she's been pushing down for who knows how long.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But I know she's been beating herself up for not coming back sooner. I know she spent the majority of the last five years talking about your mom. About you. You're her family. The only one she has left."

Monica tries her hardest to appear unaffected, but the change in her expression says it all. Her eyes soften as her jaw unclenches, her bottom lip trembling just the slightest bit to let you know you've cracked her defenses.

"She has you."

Her words are soft. Not really a complaint or an argument. Simply a statement. One that makes your face flush despite your hardest efforts.

"That's not...you know what I mean."

For once, she drops the cool act. "I do, but my point still stands. You're her family too. And honestly? I think she needs you more than I do right now."

You let out a soft chucke. "Yeah, I can't argue with that. You'll be okay?"

The question is far more loaded than you realize and yet, she nods. "Yeah, I think so."

With that, you make your way back to Carol, not at all surprised to find her muttering under her breath as she paces back and forth. "Everything okay, Captain?"

She stops in her tracks the second she hears your voice. "Something like that. It's been a long day."

"Tell me about it, it seems you've brought out some strong emotions in everyone."

"Yeah." The blonde does her best to glue a smirk onto her face, but she fails miserably. If anything, her smile comes off more like a grimace than anything.

You cross the space between you in an instant. "How are you holding up?"

She answers your question with one of her own. "How's Kamala doing? I shouldn't have yelled at her earlier."

As much as you hate her tendency to side-step talking about how she's feeling, you allow it. Clearly, you're not the only one who's gotten attached to the young girl. "She's okay, maybe a little upset, but nothing a warm shower can't fix."

A long sigh escapes her and even though you want nothing more than you wrap her up in your arms, you hold back. As difficult as it is, you wait for her to show you what she needs. "This is why I don't work with a team. I'm awful at it."

You can't stop yourself from poking fun at her. "You're literally a captain, though."

This time, the smile that crosses her face looks warmer. Real in a way you're used to. "That's not funny."

"I thought it was hilarious."

You wrap your arms around her neck before she can complain about your shitty jokes, pulling her closer. She catches on pretty quickly and wraps her arms around your waist before she leans in to capture your lips in a slow kiss.

The moment ends far too quickly for your liking.

Her forehead rests against your own, her blue eyes sparkling with emotions you know she can't fully put into words. Not that you'd ever force her.

That being said, you wish you didn't know exactly where things were going.

"You're not going to tell me what's going on, are you?" You ask even though you already know the answer.

"Nope." She pecks your lips before you can protest. "I have enough to worry about, I can't put you in the line of fire too."

"You know I don't mind. I want to be here for you."

Her hand leaves your waist to trail her finger up your arm. She grips your wrist and slowly brings it away from her neck and toward her chest. "I know, princess, but I have to do this on my own. I have to fix my mistakes."

You find yourself huffing in response. "I hate it when you get all serious like that."

She chuckles, bringing your wrist up to her lips for a few lingering kisses. "I'll come back to you before you know it. Promise."

"I'll be waiting, Captain."

You pull her back in without another word, knowing full well you'll both keep to your promises.

[mimiri22-6]

Ok so, something's been driving me crazy for the past 2-3 days now; I can't find one fanfic!

-its a stranger things fic

-eddie still dies

-Steve visit his grave regularly

-wayne visits the grave to clean graffiti off it...or Steve does that, I can't remember now

-wayne talks to Steve about Eddie

-Steve slowly falls in love with these stories of Eddie and mourns never knowing him

-the kids graduate and are semi scattered around out of hawkins...or just spend A Lot less time with Steve nowI CAN'T FUCKING REMEMBE-

-leaving Steve and Wayne to themselves

-Steve and Wayne move in together/Wayne moves into the Harrington house because they are both just so sad

-meanwhile Eddie is slowly helped back to his body my El being directed by some gov/lab people

-its a success, and her and Eddie get along. I think.

-eddie still has to recover because he was comatose/dead for the past year(s?)(maybe the kids didn't graduate yet?????IDFK)

-El did all of this in secret without telling anyone, but since she would be gone for a long while she told a lie or something? Or she told the truth that she was going to the gov again, but didn't say why? I forget exactly how she loopholed her way out of not lying about where she was going

-El brings Eddie back while Steve is visiting Eddie's grave again and gets whiplash when Eddie speaks up behind him

-one of the gov guys, maybe the main one, was with and says something along the lines of'this is compensation, we found him and said 'we can use this'' he doesn't Really say that, but that's the vibe

-it was originally on Tumblr in multiple linked parts, I'm pretty sure, but it eventually got put on AO3 too? Maybe? Hopefully

-I Rb'd it but I stopped religiously adding tags forever ago when I Still couldn't find anything

-multiple povs, obviously, but specifically Wayne, Steve, Eddie, and El I'm pretty sure.

-i think I was looking for 'wayne munson major character death, or something' at the time and now I've exhausted all avenues and it's taking prescious time out of my homework hours because I can't stop thinking about it.

OH

-im pretty sure I read it back in 2023, if not, I 1000000% didn't read it this year and I Really think I didn't read it last year, aka 2024. So date published is narrowed down two, BUT I STILL COULDN'T PIN IT DOWN-

-Edit: Timeline for when I most likely read it is ACTUALLY February 3rd 2023-late June 2023 AT IT'S MOST NARROWED, CURRENTLY. I've gone backwards in my post history, and now I'm using the tumblr mass edit tool to try and find it. wish me luck o7

-it could be tagged steddie, but I was thinking it might have been one of those'i wrote this platonically but you can interpret this anyway you want' fics and that's another reason why I'm so unsure about this fucking thing

-there was absolutely no sign of the author bringing Eddie back in the first part/chapter until Eddie gave Steve whiplash

-the pov after Steve was Wayne and then maybe El and then Eddie? But the first 2 I'm pretty positive of

-i have no clue if there was a prologue, but they do bring the party back together to surprise them with Eddie and I Think that's where it ends

-it felt like a long read, but I could be wrong, it definitely wasn't short though

I was doing the search again this morning and I still haven't eaten and the cats haven't eaten, and I still have to read/consume material before class today and and💥(I'm legit going a little mad looking for this thing, I haven't been able to sleep a full night)

[hyperthusiast]

To celebrate the completion of my longest fic yet (115,106 words - how the fuck did that happen???), I thought I'd share all my current Hazbin Hotel fic plans! (Yeah, this is partially so I have a written list, cause I keep adding more.)

Red with Envy

Obviously, this is still my AppleMedia WIP, and I have no idea how long it's going to end up being. I have a rough idea of the next 5-6 chapters, but I'll be honest, I don't know where it's going after that. (And no, that is NOT a good ending point; there is a very big issue that will need to be solved, I just currently have no idea how that will be done.)

Cherri Bang Fic

I'm writing a fic for @cherribangevent but I can't share much about it. All I can say is that it will be StaticApple.

A Killer Internship (working title)

This will be another long RadioStatic fic, that will start when they're alive and go into post-Season 1. In life, Vox (then Victor) interns at a radio station under Alastor, but his eyes are set on the prize money for catching the local serial killer. The two men become close, and Victor struggles with some of the things he's feeling for his boss (it's the 20s, so yeah, we're getting internalized homophobia from Mr. Gotta-Be-the-Perfect-Son - daddy issues thrown in for free!), but eventually the shoe drops, and Alastor realizes that Victor's gotten too close to learning the truth and their goals are not compatible. Years later, the old friends reunite in Hell, and Vox is determined that things will be different this time when he approaches his old mentor for an internship under a new name. It's a fresh start, and it has to go better than how things went on Earth - right?

Virgin Sacrifice

This is a StaticApple fic that also takes place when Vox was alive, and it's not as smutty as the title makes it sound. Vox is the leader of a devil-worshipping cult, and he's decided to attempt a summoning. It may be risky, but he has several virgin followers that he's convinced to offer themselves as a sacrifice. Except when Lucifer appears before them, he's not interested in any of them. He's only interested in Vox, and he's... not what Vox expected. And now there's a risk that Vox hadn't anticipated - that he might actually be falling for the devil. Side note: This fic has the potential for a sequel, depending on demand, which would take place with Vox and Lucifer meeting again after Season 1. But there would be a strong possibility for that going in an AppleMedia direction cause Alastor is demanding, and he'd have to be involved.

Cruel Mercy

This is another long AppleMedia fic, and is the one I have the least planned for currently. Vox miscalculated when he attacked the Hazbin Hotel. He'd thought he'd be able to destroy Alastor and his little pet project once and for all, but instead he's ended up at the wrong end of an angelic spear. Except, Little Miss Bleeding Heart wants to offer him a chance, all he has to do is join the Hazbin Hotel. It's the last thing that Vox wants - or perhaps the second to last thing because he also doesn't want to die. So, he agrees. Vox joins the Hazbin Hotel under the constant supervision of both Alastor and Lucifer, and if this is what mercy feels like, it's suspiciously similar to torture.

And that's all I have right now! (Hopefully all I'll have for a while, cause it'll take me forever to get through all of these.) Right now, I'm just focusing on Red with Envy and my Cherri Bang fic, but I'm so excited for all of these.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Bless you for creating this blog, because I need to VENT

(obligatory not all Zutarians who want to enjoy their fics and arts in peace. you guys are cool and chill.)

Isn't it so interesting transparent and sad that every Zutarian critical analysis about "making the show better" is just about making Aang suffer more, and Zuko look good?

Katara should have kept her burn scars, because Aang needed to understand the consequences of his actions!

Right. Because immediately apologising, and becoming so guilty he doesn't fire bend for 2 seasons doesn't show remorse.

Aang should have given up his attachment to Katara to become a fully realised Avatar, otherwise he doesn't sacrifice anything! That would have been narratively satisfying!

Right. Because LOSING HIS ENTIRE CULTURE AND EVERYONE HE EVER LOVED isn't a "sacrifice". Which he will never get back. He'll have to live with the tragedy of being the last Airbender forever.

It's SO interesting how Zuko literally gets everything he wanted- locking up Ozai forever, getting a new father figure in Iroh, becoming Firelord, being with the woman he loves, finding his mother, even finding a new sister who adores him. His ONE tragedy is Azula, and even then she's hopefully on a journey of redemption.

But somehow that's not the "perfect ending" for Zuko. Nope, the only narratively satisfying ending is if Katara falls over to suck Zuko's dick.

So Zuko doesn't sacrifice anything permanently, and he literally gets everything he ever wanted. Aang will never get back what he lost, but apparently he has to give up Katara too. Funny how that works. Can you make your seething resentment any more obvious?

It's also amazing to me that so called Katara stans NEVER think about how KATARA would feel if Aang lost his romantic attachment to her. Girl hugged him several times, kissed him on the cheek and lips, blushed around him, threatened to murder Zuko if he hurt Aang...she was not subtle. But apparently no one cares about Katara's feelings.

Also, how GUILTY would Katara feel if Aang had to sacrifice his romantic attachment to become the Avatar? Do you think she'd be happy he had to sacrifice love for duty? Which BEST FRIEND would be okay with this situation? Even Sokka and Toph would be outraged.

If my best friend and fellow genocide survivor had to sacrifice his romantic attachment for duty, I'd be so mad I would murder Ozai myself. Yes, even if I didn't love him back, because HE'S MY BEST FRIEND. Nobody would even be able to find the body.

Katara and Zuko should have gotten together, that would have fully represented the themes of balance and redemption in the show!

FFS THERE IS A RELATIONSHIP THAT REPRESENTS THESE THEMES! IT'S ZUKAANG! SORRY YOU WERE TOO STUPID TO UNDERSTAND THE SHOW!

Sorry, Sokka. Your relationship with Suki is toxic, because she's from the Earth Nation. You need to break up immediately. Better go find a nice firebender to have children with! Zukka anyone??

Did they miss the part when Uncle Iroh said, "Understanding others, the other elements, and the other nations will help you become whole."

Or the Guru when he said, " Even the separation of the four elements is an illusion. If you open your mind, you will see that all the elements are one. Four parts of the same whole. "

AKA "balance" is when we learn from all 4 elements and grow as a person!!! It's got nothing to do with love!

BECAUSE PEOPLE CAN'T BE REDUCED TO THEIR ELEMENTS! THAT'S THE THEME OF THE SHOW!

Sorry, Katara. You represent water, and Zuko represents fire, so you have to marry each other for "balance". It's in the rules. How convenient.

Even though Aang is ALSO a fire bender, so marrying him would also represent "balance". But he doesn't count because he's not hot and sexy like Zuko with his anime hair.

sidenote - Aang is so hot. With his muscles , grey eyes, and his off-shoulder fit? Divine. Zutarians who think Aang isn't sexy have no taste.

sorry for the extremely long rant. I just couldn't take Zutarians and their "atla-critical" analysis anymore. It's the self-righteousness that gets me.

They can't just say, I love Zutara together because I like their dynamic. Instead they have to write long metas justifying why their ship is the "only one that strenghens the themes of the show" and Kataang / Maiko "weakens the narrative" and other bs.

thanks for this space, this was cathartic.

You're welcome, anon 💖

[avoicebehindthestars]

Why 90 minutes are not enough

As a hyperfixated fan, I will never believe 90 minutes will do Good Omens 3 justice.

The Second Coming storyline was intended as something of similar complexity to the Armageddon - and that took 5 hour-long episodes to tell. People who claim that many good films only take 90 minutes should consider that those production were always intended to last 90 minutes - that's the way they were plotted. Frankly, I can't think of a single satisfactory book-to-screen adaptation that would fit into this time restriction. Other STP books adaptations (Colour of Magic, Hogfather, Going Postal) are over 3hr long each. Stardust is over 2hr, and has a much simpler plot.

Added to that is the entire Aziracrow storyline that - let's be fair - is the main thing we all want to see done well. I'm afraid I'm not in the "just kiss and fuck off to South Downs" camp. That ending never held much meaning for me, because we all know how it ends. What I cared for was the path there - healing the heartbreak, becoming an "us". A simple apology dance, or "whatever let's just stop the world from ending" won't cut it. They're lovestory has so far been told through the fluffy, casual, seemingly unimportant details. The kiss isn't evidence of their love. It's the "don't go unscrewing the cap", "three tones of voice", "our car/our bookshop", it's the way Aziraphale's hand remains upright when Crowley's almost wraps over it, or how Crowley gives up the whole argument the moment he learns Aziraphale might be in danger. And through the flashbacks and minisodes now almost certainly lost.

And then there's the whole intellectual side of Good Omens. The show is often praised for being a wonderful queer representation, but not enough is said about it being autistic representation. Most ethereal and occult characters on GO are autistic-coded, but contrary to such productions as House MD, Sherlock, or Atypical, the plot doesn't revolve around them being ND. Instead, we, the neurodivergent recognise ourselves in tiny details - when Shax suddenly asks about hot water, when Muriel doesn't realise the Metatron has just offended them. But that isn't all. We, the ND people are drawn to the whole meta side of the show. The tarot card parallels, the mirror structure, the bloody camera filters! We are treated while being represented - this show is about us and for us. Have you read any of the mindblowing metas on tumblr…? Many people say that Good Omens is full of fillers that are easily omitted, but those parts are simply the ones whose significance the less invested audience didn't recognise.

Nothing of that will be left in 90 minutes. It can be a pleasant experience, an entertaining narrative of stopping the end of the world with, hopefully, a few sweet moments stolen away by Aziraphale and Crowley. And that's all. No nuance or riddles to be tracked over the next years, no grandeur of an epic story told with patience and no compromise. No narrative legacy to leave a mark in contemporary storytelling, the way season 1 did. No satisfying return on everything season 2 discreetly hinted (and how ridiculous that what was basically a backdoor prologue to the final arc will now be 3 times longer than the story itself!). And, above all, no carefully planned and slowly delivered healing.

Just. A 1.5h fantasy comedy to consume on a winter evening before moving on when they're gone forever.

[muninnhuginn]

Episode 2 To Be Hero X Liveblog

For context on my knowledge going into the show, check here. The gist is I'm going in relatively blind minus a few specific points.

Now, onwards

Oh, okay, the pre-credits has a lot of info in the space of maybe five seconds

aha. The Incident. we meet again.

New person framed between Nice and Moon as it talks of their relationship. Empty cans to the forefront, the healthiest of character intros. That mole on the face should hopefully help me identify them anyway (I say as though this show doesn't have people change physical traits).

"If I can't have something, neither can anyone else." alright, yandere type.

2d backstory this time resembles a kid's comic. Thinking stuff like the start of Look Back, aspects of TBH. Fantasy-like, essentially. Annnd swivels into the 3d as 'reality' hits.

"Thank goodness. Everything's okay." x doubt.

Distance!

oh- you know, I was going to keep screenshotting the distance between them but I think if I do that, I'll have to capture the entire episode

Marketing + branding again. Power is gained through it, as we already knew. The influencer backstory to Moon just backs that up. Being seen as a commodity rather than a person. Moon being saddled as the girlfriend role against her will. The fact she was glad Nice was dead (unclear at this stage whether it was because og Nice sucked or if it was simply a case of two people being forced to be together creating resentment).

"So we have to make sure Nice exists forever, no matter what." Hm, okay, horrifying. That tracks.

"I'll give you some time to think it over." <- well now that's just sus-- oh she's locking them in until they agree. Fair enough

The music can't be the same but why does the background music here whilst LL is blushing sound like that Squid Game OST.

Wasn't warned about the crimes against pianos. I can't look :pensive:

"He can't stand any imperfections or uncleanliness." Noting down for if/when Lin Ling goes that way--

"You're you. Why must you become him?" <- themes

Thinking of the choice of fruits being red on their white clothes + the flash of Moon's body with blood on it.

My guess about her being unable to portal away had been that she had lost the ability as her fame became more attached to Nice's. That she became sidelined as she became only known in association with. The actual answer is... well, the logic follows, but the end result is worse than I'd considered.

Whoa, one month. Didn't think they'd let it take that long considering you'd presumably want to keep content being created for them to not lose their Trust etc.

Not sure what I make of this in the context of og Nice committing suicide.

"It was my job to turn black into white. To make the impossible possible."

....

Oof, everyone on their phones streaming/taking photos and the prominent drone. Really capturing the whole aspect of them putting on a show.

Wreck as a parasocial fan, I see. Okay, so the whole "I object" thing being an act makes sense, but Wreck said the same thing as the start of the episode about "if I can't have something then no one can" so... same person or no? The villains are also cast by the same people as the heroes, makes sense, given it's all a marketing thing. You only get strong heroes with strong villains.

"Speak. Where is Nice?" So the ramble about not answering messages etc was legit then :V. Mask off, yes, same guy as pre-credits.

"What's going on with him?" I wonder :V.

Into 2d as Lin Ling quotes a thing that was never said to him about making the impossible possible. 2d is indeed fantasy/the 'idealistic' world.

Finger tutting.... wait, sorry, getting distracted. But yeah, wanting an excuse to see Nice so badly that he'll fight him if it means he gets to see him.

Neither Lin Ling nor Moon fully recognising why they're sad because she's not "dead" so why should they be? It's the fact they're parting that's upsetting.

Also yiiikes, everyone back with their phones out, part of what is ostensibly a private moment, and yet, it never would be.

Back to distance between them, with Nice in the middle, immediately followed by the news confirming Lin Ling is in it for the long run. Yay visual metaphors ig.

"People will only believe things they want to believe, even if it's a lie."

People can't lie to themselves about fear -> trust vs fear back on the menu. See, I'm presuming for now that Spotlight's actually a different organisation from Nice's, but at the same time, I don't want to rule out that they're secretly the same given we already have one confirmed 'setup villain'. That said, Fear breaking Trust would presumably take down the Trust system, so in theory, there's no motivation for Lin Ling's marketing body to want this. Will keep them as an outside organisation, then. Though, possibly involving former heroes/villains who've turned against the system due to their own experiences.

Misc:

This is the first time I've realised the ending song is actually supposed to be in full English. I always presumed it was just specific lines until I saw the subs there, oops.

We never actually got an explanation for Moon's body covered in blood. I know Lin Ling thought it was a dream, but if that is the case, it's a pretty weird one to have.

Also, wondering when we'll get more crumbs about the Incident. Both episodes have referenced it thus far as a turning point for Nice.

Genuinely surprised the final shot of Lin Ling before we turned to the arc plot wasn't him looking small in the midst of the huge room. Shows love to do that stuff

[odetoalostpairofkeys]

Trix, Pix, and Flix meeting Purple for the first time!

Read it on AO3 here! Or under the cut below (Pretty long, 4,138 words)

Lost and Found Treasures

Ah. You're back. Should I be suspicious? Once may be a coincidence, and twice is fate, but three times is on purpose and four times is a sign of a stalker. Now, don't get offended, I just think it's funny how I avoid this place for a few weeks and the day I come back, well.

You show up.

And right before I was going to… do some stuff.

I asked around, you know. None of the sky kids who know about this place knew you. And forgive me for being cautious, but this place isn’t really one you stumble upon by accident. And you only showed up when I was here. Trust me, I’d know if you showed up when I wasn't.

I suppose it doesn't matter. Not too much. We're still at the fate stage, and I hold way more secrets than you do.

You've come for another story? Hopefully you did, because there's nothing else here for you. Come, sit down. Have some bread- wait actually, don't, not that bread. That's the bread that Izzi made me to try to kidnap me — long story, and not the story for this time. And I want to use it to trick- to trick someone else. I don't think I have any other treats here, so I guess you can just sit down.

You remember Flix, Pix, and Trix? Well, here's another story about them, and my most favorite sky kid ever besides Fortissimo. This story was pretty recent, actually. Way more recent than the last one, which was… what, right before the Season of Performance? Around then. So yeah, a couple seasons ago. Maybe even older than you.

Did you think they were still butterflies? They're all full veterans now! Though, they haven't changed that much, to be honest. They're still inseparable, except when going into Eden of course. They've all joined Lethe's new project thing too. You know, the thing that all the spirits have talked about forever? If you go to Grandma, she won't shut up about it, and all of the spirit guides will tell anyone with enough Connection about it. Lethe offered me an invitation to join, but I decided I would rather just keep bothering them instead.

Maybe that'll be the story for next time. Right now, listen to this story.

There was a moth. And they were horribly lost. They had been here for a good amount of time, judging by the purple scribbles marking one part of the wall matching the smears all over their hands and arms. They clutched a small purple piece of chalk in one hand, and the other they kept on the wall, following the three lines that got them into this mess. They had tried everything they could think of to get out besides giving up and going Home. They couldn’t go Home yet, they weren’t that desperate. They needed to find their way back to the Guide to ask where they could find more treasures like the one in their hand. If they went Home, it would take forever to find this place again.

It wasn’t their fault they were lost. After all, the Wasteland is a very confusing place.

They had gone there looking for Winged Lights and the spirits they had missed on their first journey. Of course, they had tried to find someone to guide them, but no one offered any help even though they had sat at both benches until the white candles each burned out. Only three other sky kids had approached them. A moth on their first journey who wandered off after only exchanging a few words, too drawn towards Eden’s Call, then a sky kid who, after lighting them up, bowed and backed away without even sitting down. The third chatted with them for a bit but refused to help them, instead suggesting they wait for someone called White Lotus to help.

So, of course, they had decided to come down on their own, determined to get the winged light.

Too much sand, a cast of crabs, two dark dragons, another cast of crabs resulting in the loss of two winged light, more sand, finally a small lantern to restore their light, and then a boat ride and another krill later, they had ended up at a broken boat. A Spirit Guide greeted them and said something about colors and red, but the moth was distracted by a winged light they spent forever trying to get to, and then a spirit leading them into the caves, and then running away from more crabs. Luckily most of the crabs were flipped, and there was enough wax around to keep their light full.

So really, they had been lost long before they found the three lines. They had no reason to blame the three lines for getting them lost. Of course, they still did.

Don’t laugh at them! They’re trying their best. Weren’t the Realms so big and confusing when you were a moth, too? It’s only with familiarity that it becomes so small. There’s only a few places that feel endlessly big now.

Isn’t that a bit sad? I remember getting lost in the Wind Isles, or wandering through the Forest aimlessly, or feeling like the race down the mountain in Valley could last forever. There’s a strange sort of peace in getting lost, and a strange sort of thrill from not knowing where the next step will bring you. Don’t you ever wish you could experience it all new again, like a moth?

Ah, you’ve caught me monologuing instead of storytelling. My apologies.

It was in these caves that they found the first line. A yellow line, drawn near the floor as if from a crab. It wasn't like the lines that made up the murals, it was flat and dull, refusing to give off any light. It seemed out of place, which is what caught the moth’s attention.

They had followed it through the caves until another line joined it. A green one, just as flat and dull as the other. And yet… it seemed to call to them. Another line joined the two a few steps later, a bright red. It spun through the caves, leading to a small crack. The end was too far away to see.

The moth had decided then that they would follow the lines, too curious to turn back now. They had slid into the crack, their cape scraping against the stone. It was longer than they expected, and they almost turned around—

And then there was nothing underneath their foot.

They had tumbled forward, falling a short distance before hitting the ground with an oomph. I’m sure they were regretting following the lines in that moment, but the next had made everything else worth it. As they had pushed themself up, pulling out their candle to better light the dark cavern, their eyes caught on the wall next to them.

They had never paid much attention to the murals scattered around the realms. On their first journey, they couldn’t. Not with the way the mountain in the distance sang in their ears. Back then, they had often wondered how others could stand still or spend too long messing around or even going in the opposite direction from Eden’s Call. Now, after their first journey, they could understand. But even then the murals still were boring to them. They were just flat pictures from ages ago, why would they focus on those instead of the butterflies dancing around, or the playful mantas singing their songs, or the birds following the breeze? Why would they stop to look at the murals when there were entirely new areas to explore? Why would they pause when there were so many other things?

And yet… they had found themself staring at the mural in front of them. It wasn’t like the other murals they had only glanced at before, there was something about it that caught their attention. Perhaps it was the way it didn't glow but instead seemed alive with colors, greens and blue and reds and yellows. Perhaps it was the way it filled up all the space, instead of leaving gaps. Perhaps it was the way it seemed centered around three sky kids.

A yellow one with tassels on their cape. A green one with a witch's hat. A red one with a bow on their head. Yellow, green, red. Just like the lines. And right beneath the mural, were the three lines.

The moth had reached up, touching the mural. The three sky kids were flying above grassy fields, mantas diving through the air next to them. That was something the moth had seen others do so many times before. They had tried to join some once, but they didn't have enough light to be able to keep up with them.

They had decided to follow the lines again. They were this far in, so why not continue? Only a few steps away, another mural was revealed. It showed the same three sky kids, this time sitting under a bright yellow mushroom to avoid the rain. A small creature was with them now, an orange fox. How many times had the moth hurried under the mushrooms as the rain sapped their light away?

The lines led on. The next mural had the three sky kids and the orange fox sitting at a campfire with a huge moon above them. Probably laughing and chatting with each other. Was that how they had met? Had one sat at a bonfire and the others came to sit next to them?

The next mural showed the three sky kids stacked on top of each other, the yellow one leading through Wasteland. A krill was drawn above, and crabs all around. The moth glanced away. Sitting and waiting at the benches hadn't worked for them, and they had no guide. Maybe if these sky kids had been around they could have joined them? They felt... longing, though they didn't know the name of the emotion. They were, of course, only a moth.

They moved on. The lines were still going. The moth walked forward, looking for the next mural, when they found their treasure.

Or, rather, they kicked it, and it left a long streak of purple across the floor. That caught their attention immediately.

They picked it up, turning it over in their hands. It was unassuming, just a soft purple rock, but it left their hands purple. They looked down at the line it left on the floor, then up at the three lines on the wall. Then, hesitantly, they put the rock to the wall and dragged it across, letting a purple line join the other three. It fit right in.

They made some more lines, just to experiment. Then a circle, with a smaller circle inside, and then a bigger circle around it. They drew spiraling shapes, like the shells in Isle that they had tried to collect before Eden's Call drew them away. Short little lines, then a big box entirely filled in with purple. They used their cape to draw several lines reaching from the ceiling all the way to the ground. Dots of purple growing into overlapping circles like the scales on the fish they had watched in Daylight Prairie.

Finally, when their treasure had been shortened to only a fourth of what it had been, they stepped back. They didn't dare use it all up before they could find more. Hadn't the Guide outside said something about colors? Could they find more from them? They just had to find their way back to them, but they should be able to just follow the lines back out. Right now, though, the lines were still leading forward.

The moth came to the next mural, pausing to admire it. The three sky kids, yellow, green, and red, were sitting on purple sands, watching a meteor shower. The moth wished they knew where that was. It seemed beautiful. Or maybe they just wished they could have someone they could see it with. They almost turned away from the mural before an idea struck them.

They hesitantly put their treasure against the wall. It almost felt like they were doing something wrong, something against the rules, but no one else was here. And maybe it would make it come true. They drew a fourth figure, all in purple, watching the meteor shower too. It was... a wish, though they didn’t know that word.

They stepped away. They needed to go find more of their treasure, then they would come back. The moth turned around to go back the other way. They left the meteor shower and passed their mural, the Wasteland one, the bonfire, the one under a mushroom, and finally the first one, the sky kids flying high above the grass. And then they passed the meteor shower. And their mural. And the Wasteland, the bonfire, the mushroom, the green fields. And then the meteor shower.

This is when they realized they might be wandering in circles, which made no sense to them. The lines had led them in here, so how could they just be leading them in circles now? There had been a start, so how could they not find it? There had been a point with only one line, just the yellow one, and then the green and the red joined it later, but they couldn't find that spot anymore. Where had it gone?

They let out a chirp, listening for Eden's Call, but it just led them to a wall. They didn't dare go Home yet, how would they be able to find their way back? They didn't have any light in their cape, they had used it all to reach the higher spots to draw.

And here we are.

There was a moth. And they were horribly lost. Purple dust decorated their hands from drawing on the wall with their treasure. They had tried everything short of giving up and going Home. It wasn't their fault they were lost. Everyone gets lost once in a while. And the world is so big to a small moth, so many wonders to explore and things to learn and colors to see. So many sky kids to meet. So many stories to tell.

The moth continued walking, one hand tracing the three lines, hoping that they would bring them back to the start even though they hadn't yet, the other clutching their treasure. Walking in circles in the dark cave, the only light their own... and from a crack in the ceiling?

The moth froze, staring at the crack. They hadn't been able to see it before, but now it was lit by a warm glow. Too warm to be from the sky, not red or blue like a krill's spotlight. Not the same pale blue of a spirit either, so it had to be a sky kid. They could help them get out!

Out of the crack dropped one grey sky kid, then another, and another. All short, less than half the moth's height. The moth hurried up to them, holding out their candle, silently begging them to share light. They at least needed a little bit of light, so even if these sky kids wouldn't help them they might be able to fly out.

After a moment, one finally pulled out their candle. The grey hiding their features faded, revealing a red-caped sky kid with a large red bow on their head. Just like the murals. The next one to pull out their candle had a yellow cape with tassels bouncing around with every movement. They held a plush fox in their other hand. The third, once they pulled out their candle, had a dark green cape with a black hat on their head.

It was Yellow, Green, and Red from the murals. It had to be. They even had the orange fox! They bowed to the moth, and the moth scrambled to bow back. It was them!

Wait. They would see that they had doodled all over the wall. And they had even drawn over one of the murals! They must've been the ones to make the murals, but the moth had gone and ruined one. Oh, and now Green was pulling out a round lantern on a stick, and Red was walking over to where they had scribbled all over with purple. In the brighter light, it seemed less like a masterpiece and more like random lines. Nothing like the murals. The moth could only watch as Red called the other two over, pointing at it. They couldn't tell what they were thinking, though they could probably guess. Yellow came up to them, honking inquisitively and pointing at it.

The moth stared at them, trying to figure out what they were trying to say. Yellow paused, tilting their head, and then slowly pointed from the moth to the mural. The moth continued to stare, then it finally hit them. They wanted the treasure back. Which... well, it hadn't been theirs in the first place, and they would be able to find more, right? Now that they knew it existed, they could get more. The moth slowly opened their hand, and forced themself to offer the treasure to Yellow. It looked pitiful now, a small rock instead of the long one it had been before the moth had used it.

Yellow shook their head, pushing the treasure back towards the moth. They clapped their hands and gave them a burst of confetti, then turned back towards the other two, leaving the moth completely confused. At least they got to keep their treasure? But what had Yellow been asking about then? Or maybe they had been disappointed that they had used almost all of it. The moth watched nervously as the three sky kids walked along the three lines, leading to the meteor shower mural with the fourth sky kid scribbled on top. Would they be offended? Would they be mad?

They seemed... curious. Not mad. They weren't stomping like the Pouty Porter, weren't shaking their finger or waving their fists at them like they had seen some others do. Instead, they just seemed to glance between the mural and them. The moth gripped their treasure in their hand, though that didn't do much to hide the evidence. Yellow had already seen it, and even if they hadn't, the moth had purple dust all over their hands and arms.

Green took a step towards them. They pointed at them, then to the purple figure in the mural. Unsure and uncertain about what they were trying to say, the moth bowed to them. Green nodded slowly, looking back at the mural.

Before they could regret it, the moth pulled out a Connection Candle. It lit up the space even more, revealing it to be much smaller than they had thought. They knelt, offering it to Green.

Green stared at it, then glanced back at Yellow and Red. They didn't do anything, though Red turned away a little. Were they going to accept it? Would they let them join their journeys, make murals with them? Or had the moth screwed up when they stole the treasure and drew over their mural? There was a beat of silence, then another, and another, almost unbearable, and finally the moth prepared to stand up and dismiss the candle—

Green accepted it. Connection flowed between the two, warm and comforting. Before it could even fully settle between them, the moth turned to Yellow and offered another candle. They accepted it easily, and the moth turned to Red. Red hesitated a bit, glancing between Yellow and Green, but finally accepted.

Yellow pulled something out of their inventory suddenly, a glass bottle that light streamed out of in bubbles as they opened it. A spell, the moth had seen others use them before. A table formed out of light in the cave. Yellow hopped into one of the seats, gesturing for the moth to do the same.

Once they climbed into one, the Connection flowed loosely around them.

“Hello, moth.” Yellow said as Green and Red climbed into the other seats.

“Hello,”  the moth responded, hesitating before adding on, “Yellow.”

Yellow laughed, then turned to poke Green, who swatted their hand away. Green turned to the moth. “Do you have a name, moth?”

The moth hesitated. They had thought their name was moth for a bit, since that was what everyone had called them, but someone had explained that that was more of a title, than a name. They were a moth because they were young. Those with brown capes were moths. “No, Green.”

Yellow laughed again. “Are those our names?”

Were they? They had to be. They matched the sky kids in the murals, and they each had a line to go with them, and each line was a color. Of course they were their names. “Yes, Yellow.”

“Alright. I suppose they are.” Green giggled softly. “Does that make your name Purple?”

The moth glanced down at their treasure. Purple. They had drawn their entire mural purple. And there was a short section of purple line joining the other three. They had drawn a purple figure joining the sky kids in the last mural. They had drawn over it, messing it up, but Green, Yellow, and Red weren't mad. They had accepted their candles. The moth rolled their treasure in their hands, thinking. They... would like that name. Purple.

“Yes. I think it does,” Green decided. “Hello, Purple.”

Purple. That was their name. And it matched the others!

“Purple, have you finished your first journey?” Red asked.

“Yes, Red.” Purple responded proudly.

There was silence, before Yellow nudged Green again. Green glanced at them, confused, and Yellow gestured towards Purple. Purple watched confused as the two gestured at each other. Green finally seemed to get the message, turning towards Purple. “Would you like to go on a candle run with us? We're going to go through Wasteland and then to the Starlight Desert, then to the top of the Vault.”

Purple nodded eagerly. Oh, this was perfect! This was what they came here for anyway, and now they were leaving with their treasure and three new friends! “Can we also get the Winged Light, Green?”

Green glanced at Yellow. “Yeah, that'd be easy enough,”  Yellow said. “Ready to go, then?”

“Yes!”

And so Purple left that day with their purple treasure, a new name, and three new friends. It’s quite funny actually, I think both Flix and Pix consider Purple to be Trix’s moth, since she accepted their candle first, and I don’t think Trix knows this. It doesn’t matter that much, since they’re together all the time anyway, but Flix always pushes for Trix to take charge more often around Purple, which has done wonders for her self-confidence. Of course, Purple somewhat became the Messenger Moth once she brought them to the Wind Isles.

Trix bringing Purple to the Wind Isles is the best thing that has ever happened here. You see, when Lethe organized the Messengers, none of the others really knew each other. Kyrie and Coyote hated each other at first glance. Trix, Pix, and Flix kept to themselves, and Storm and Ember were the same way. Rome was intimidating everyone else, and Clef only had eyes for Rome, that lovestruck idiot. Jam was only there for Kyrie, and avoided Lethe as much as possible. And there was only so much I could do, trying to trick them all into conversation and pulling pranks to get them to get along better. 

Purple brought everyone together. They soon brought chalk to the Wind Paths, making everywhere you looked colorful. Truly, nothing brings sky kids together more than a moth wandering around drawing on everything. They would drag sky kids around to look at their latest masterpiece, not caring about the different little groups because they just saw them all as friends. And it worked! For the most part. Lethe and Jam still tend to avoid each other, but they can actually hold a conversation and I think they apologized. Rome still won’t talk to most of the others, but that’s because of different reasons, and the others enjoy talking to her because it’s hard to be intimidating when a moth has insisted on drawing flowers all over your arms and face. And Coyote and Kyrie only say they hate each other now!

Anyway, that’s all I have for you. Now shoo. I need to do what I came here to do in the first place. 

Come back another time, if you wish. Based on the patterns so far, you’ll somehow manage to show up while I’m here. I’ll tell you another story.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

I Should Hate You

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ confrontation, implied trauma/abuse, talks of death, ANGST, blood drinking, fighting (verbal), astarion being rough (physical), threats of violence against self, crying, tenderness, exes getting back together, dubcon, implied lack of control during sex, oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), disassociation

Tired of living in constant vigilance and fear, Tav has to confront the Vampire Lord. Even if it means her end. What she doesn't expect is the Ascendant doesn't want her dead at all...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

-

"This is a bad idea, Tav."

"I know."

"Then don't go."

Shadowheart's wide green eyes stared deep into her. Hands cupped around her face.

"I cant-" Tav sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't live in fear anymore. Of him. Of what he might do when he finds me."

"We can leave the Sword Coast, we can go. Forever."

"That's not the point. And I wouldn't ask that of you."

"You could." Shadowheart's voice caught, planting soft kisses on her mouth. "You could ask me for anything."

"I know." Tav smiled warmly, leaning into her. Pressing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

They both knew what this meant. A life would be taken. Either her's, his, or both. She couldn't see an outcome without death either way. That made her heart ache but she couldn't go on this way.

Always in the shadows, skirting around the edge of society. How ironic, that she had refused his blood, his vampirism, but still lived like one. Even months on, walking with a hood on. Shrouded. Eyes down. Never looking at faces too long.

Who knew there was so much shame in freedom?

No it had to be this way. The last thread he had tied to her wrist must be severed.

She was not afraid to die. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. It wouldn't do any good to start now.

The streets looked as angelic in the soft lamplight as she had remembered. Cobblestones and passersby's. Hushed chatter from corners where couples stood. Rich as an oil painting.

Standing in shadow she took long deep breaths. Committing this view, this feeling to memory. Peace. The perfect intimacy of night.

Took a long steadying breath out.

Okay.

She lifted the hood off of her head, walking out into the soft light. Stood in it for one reverent moment. Knew it wouldn't take long. He had eyes everywhere.

She made a pointed look out, at the faces of men and animals alike. Come get me.

Walked on sure feet into the Elfsong.

"What can I do you fo-"

"Wait. It's you! Our hero! Welcome back, love!"

She smiled sheepishly. Reaching for her coinpurse.

"Ah, come on. I'm just a patron for tonight. One room, please."

"Come off it! No charge for you. I wish I could rent you your old lodgings but we've got a great room for you otherwise. Top floor!"

She smiled. Hopefully, they wouldn't have too much blood to clean up. "That sounds perfect, thank you Alan."

They chatted amicably as he led her up. Handing her the keys with a friendly clasp over her hands.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Truly don't hesitate."

The door closed solidly behind her, she kicked off her shoes. Lighting an oil lamp. Hanging her cloak.

Knew he was waiting, could feel it on the air.

If she was going to die she could at least be comfortable. Slipping into a long silk night shirt.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Okay.

She opened the window, the night air sweet and promising. Billowing the curtains gently. Turned to the vanity and sat down. Eyes closed.

The presence behind her was unmistakable.

Fingers caressing along her collarbone. Picking up the cut ends of her hair.

She shivered, eyes still closed.

"You know, you still feel like him." She hushed, wonder and sadness melded in her voice. "That's the cruelest part. If I could just pretend..."

She opened her eyes, his torso reflected in the mirror. "But I can see you."

"You always could, darling."

She laughed solemnly. "I think I was always pretending, wasn't I? Pretending that you loved me."

"Look at me, Tav."

"Why?" She asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "What good would that do? We both know why you're here." Her eyes steady on his body reflected behind her.

Felt him move before his reflection caught up with him.

Fingers rough on her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, full of contempt.

He looked... bad. Still perfectly manicured, of course, but with dark purple circles marred under his eyes. Skin pallid. Twitchy. An air of something barely controlled.

"You really did kill everyone, didn't you?" She hushed, jaw clenching under his hold.

He stared down at her, eyes scanning. Dark around his shrunken pupils, that deep red when he hadn't fed in a while.

"Where have you been?"

She stood, his fingers still on her chin. Reached up and held onto his forearm. Not pulling away but not leaning in.

"Away."

He laughed coldly. "Away. Right."

"Why are you here, Lord Ancunin?"

His eyes cut deadly to hers then. Stepping closer.

She stood her ground, feet spread.

Their eyes level with each other.

"I'm here to take back what is mine."

"You still think I'm your spawn, don't you? Didn't you have enough courtesan's to fuck and bleed? Or did you kill them too?"

His hand snapped down around her throat. Breathing hard through his nose.

She stared back, unflinching.

"I'm not afraid of you." She whispered. Aware those words could be her last.

His eyes flared, the muscle in his jaw popping.

His hand flashed forward and ripped the hidden dagger tied to her thigh away. Throwing it across the room.

"I want you back." His voice low, dangerous. Strained.

"I tried to replace you." He lifted her onto the vanity. The bottles crashing to the floor. "None of them. None of them were enough."

She stared up at him, trying to hide the shock in her face. Why was he saying this?

"Tav," He moaned, leaning into her neck. Fingers twisting her hair. Pushing between her legs.

Her body betrayed her then. It felt like him. Smelled like him. Her eyes falling closed.

"Oh Gods, Tav." He groaned, gripping her waist. Licking a hot line up her neck.

"It's not you." She said quietly to herself. Trying to break the spell. "You're not my love."

"Please, Tav." He moaned, hiking her nightgown up over her thigh. "Please, I'm so hungry." The bare need in his voice making her belly flip.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her eyes prickled with angry tears. Gripping him tighter to her.

"I want you. I need you." His mouth pushed against her throat. "Please don't make me beg."

She was lost. Why was he asking for permission? Why was he asking at all?

This was not what she had envisioned. She had planned for everything but this.

And still, his hands, shaking and needful, pulled at her. How could this stranger pantomime him so well?

Before the words even left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Starlight?"

He pressed his head into her, moaning low. Biting down desperately.

Fuck.

She gripped his arm, gasping. The familiar ice piercing her neck. The stark realization that she was now the meal of a starving animal. He was going to bleed her to her last drop.

Her mind raced as the gentle euphoria tried to take her. Something she used to treasure now lulling her into a false safety. She had fallen into a bear trap, neck first.

He was going to bleed her dry and change her. Make her his property, his puppet. She had to think fast.

She clenched her hand into a fist and arced it back as hard as she could, the mirror shattering against her back.

He was slow, lost in her throat. Only reacting when she held a shard of glass between them. Pressed to the other side of her neck.

"Release." She warned.

He paused, still latched on. Eyes moving fast between her hand, clamped down around the shard, blood dripping onto her nightgown. Her neck. Her eyes. Calculating.

"You know I'll do it. Release." She pressed the shard hard into her skin. The bite of the glass against her jugular.

He unlatched with a growl, lifting her off of the vanity and throwing her on the bed with inhuman strength. Catching her wrist tightly and throwing the shard hard against the wall. Shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There he is." She hissed. "The Lord Ancunin."

"You are coming back with me."

"You may take my body. You can hurt me, fuck me till I bleed, I don't care. You've done worse. But you will not have me." She laughed coldly. "My heart died with you years ago. But my will is mine."

She sat up on knees, eyes level with his again. Filled with fury. That same fury before she fell.

"You have killed me a thousand times, in little cuts you bled me. Of my hope. My love. It is spilled everywhere in that castle."

Her voice rising. "I have loved you through every tortuous night. Praying and PLEADING to every god that you could love me back. You were my everything. And you tricked me. Tricked me into thinking you could hold me above anything more than a fucking plaything! How dare you come to me and ask for more!"

Tears streaming angry down her face, holding her already bruising wrists up in a mock tie.

"Go on! Take! Take more from me! That's all you have for me, right?! That's our future! Take until I am NOTHING Astarion!"

Their joined breath was heavy in the tense silence as her words cracked through the air.

He stared at her, huffing hard. His chest rising and falling.

"If you force me, I will kill us both and burn that castle to ashes. I swear it." Closing her eyes, the old pain rocking through her again. Her wrists phantom stinging. "Don't make me do this, Astarion. I dont want to hurt you. Please dont make me."

Gripping at his arms, the grief poured out of her in a flood. Her face turning away from his in shame. "Why? Why couldn't it be different with me? You told me you loved me. I could have hated you. It would have been so much kinder to let me hate you. Why did you tell me you loved me?"

Her eyes opened and stared at him through thick water. Demanding an answer. "Did I not do enough? Did I not love you enough? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stared at her, bloody tears leaking from his eyes. Face cold as marble.

His warm hand cupped her cheek. Thumb wiping gingerly at the stream of grief.

"What have I done to you, my sweet?"

She flinched away from his touch on instinct.

His other hand came to cup her face.

"Please don't do that." He whispered, a vein of agony in his voice.

She could not trust this touch. Yet she yearned so desperately to be held by him again.

"Why are you being kind to me?" She laced her fingers through his, still pressed to her cheek.

"Because I-," He started, a hollow pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut painfully. "No. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, my love."

She choked back a sob. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

She kissed him to silence him. Gasping against his frightfully warm mouth. This wasn't him. She chanted in her mind. This wasn't him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, those familiar lips sliding against hers.

Why did he taste the same, feel the same? Those curls still soft against her seeking hands.

A new stream of tears flowing from her closed eyes. How cruel, for him to be as he was.

"Please, I want to pretend again." She urged, pulling at his doublet, the buttons giving in to her need. "Be sweet to me just one more time, Starlight."

He moaned out a mournful cry into her mouth. Hands pulling her nightgown over her head. "I will do anything for you, my treasure." Laying her back against the sheets. "Please let me show you."

She felt traitorous shivers go up her spine. He was still too beautiful. The silks and pressed linens of his doublet open, revealing the pale plane of his chest. Eyes so strikingly red, lashes long. Irises coursing with her ruby blood. Lips full and pouted. That soft pleading in his eyes.

"Yes, Star." Blinking away tears. "Let me believe you love me." She hushed, her lip trembling.

He kissed down her neck, hands drinking her in. Leaning his pelvis into her spread legs. The hard of his clothed length rubbing against her center.

She was lost in him again, eyes closing. Tight with tears. It had been so long.

His touch intoxicating, pulling the silk of need from her. Tongue crushed velvet against her writhing torso.

"Yes," She urged, head thrown back.

He ran his hot tongue down the sensitive skin inside her thigh, lidded eyes meeting hers. Snapping his doublet open with quick fingers and pulling it fluidly over his head.

"I need you." She whispered. It was never fair, what he did to her.

His eyes suddenly burned out red from the pupil, glowing hot crimson. Mouth falling open, fangs elongating. A rattling in the back of his chest. She realized he had stopped breathing entirely.

A strike of fear pulsed with her arousal. No, this wasn't him. This wasn't a man at all.

"Astarion," She called softly, trying to bring him back.

But he was gone.

His burning eyes darted down to her cunt. Fingernails lengthening into sharp points.

At inhuman speed he dove onto her. Laving hard stripes up and down her center.

She cried out, gripping the sheets. "Fuck," She yelped, already seeing stars.

The onslaught was vicious, his tongue pulsing fast and greedy. Face fully buried in her. Nose pushing up into her clit as he crushed his tongue into her.

Her hips continued to rise in an effort to get away and he only followed, head pushing higher.

"Oh my Gods," She nearly shrieked, the pleasure so intense her body tried to twist away.

He grabbed around her hips and stood on his knees, his ascended strength lifting her entire pelvis up with ease. Her legs falling forward over her chest. Only her shoulder blades still on the bed.

In this new position, he steered her back into his mouth. Burning red eyes glazed over, sharp nails digging into her ass hard enough to break skin. Ten drops of blood dripping down her back.

She clenched her legs together, whimpering loudly. Needing it to stop but her traitor body hungry for more.

He zeroed in on her clit, eyes focusing on her again. Two glowing points in the dim light. That rattling in his chest scaring her and striking a flint of heat through her core.

He clamped down and sucked hard, tongue pulling fast pulses against her engorged clit.

She writhed helplessly, moaning out prey cries. A rabbit caught.

"Please, please, I cant take it-" She whimpered loudly, her limbs tingling hot in warning. The ache in her pelvis nearly breaching.

Her vision went white as it hit her. Shrieking out as a perfect agony thrashed her against the stones. Drowning in the pleasure of his violence. Her body wrenching in a tortuous rhythm. Fucked to oblivion. Arching up, head hanging as he lifted her even higher. The blood rushing to her head threatening black stars in her vision.

"Stop," She gasped as his mouth continued to devour her. "Please, enough."

"Astarion, STOP!"

His eyes dimmed again, the red pulling away he let her drop, blinking. "Oh, oh my treasure. I-"

She curled onto her side. Pulling her legs hard into her body. Shaking and closing her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of him speaking above her but she was gone. Drifting away from her body. Seeing the room from far, far above herself. The world narrowing to a small point.

His hands shaking her brought her crashing back.

"Tav," He urged, looking deep in her eyes. "Tav, please speak to me."

"I want you to go." She whispered, looking foreign at him. "Please, go."

"No, please. I dont know what-"

"If you care as much as you pretend to, then please go."

He bit his lip, eyes scanning her face.

"I will find you again. I will make this right."

She layed her head back down, curling back into herself.

He pulled the sheets and blankets up over her. Pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I will see you again, my treasure."

And he was gone, whipping up into the wind, out the open window.

Left with the silence of the night, she let the slow tears leak down the side of her face.

What had she started?

~

Part 5

[honeyhonest]

ahem ahem brainrot anon at the mic imagine taking a bath with idia and like it starts all wholesome and cute, blowing bubbles, putting foam on each others' heads idfk how idias hair would work but whatever ig its charcoal or smth who knows maybe he gets bald giggling and shi and then you look at each other and lips and stuff and then turns out idia has a boner like "dude im not even gonna lie im horny asf rn like im in an otome and this is the sex scene" ohhhh. man. sloppy wet sex ensues or imagine first time with idia both for you and him being fucking awkward like where do i put it in. sorry i ccant. oh wait there it is sheesh. being like am i supposed to moan rn or what its not porn is it. and at some point it gets very genuine loses the weird awkwardness and becomes just sensual like im glad we could experience this together typa shi <\\3 gentle and maybe a lil stiff but loving and caring nonetheless very careful and attentive. like. hey youre actually gorgeous asf. the same goes to you.........sob or sleeping next to each other. "are you sleeping" "no" "same" "insomnia sucks" "fr" "hey do you wanna have sex maybe" "....why the hell not" sex feels soooo right with idia.......hes such a comfort loser character i love him he just like me fr except im not a genius im just stupid <3 he could fix me but not like in a change way but in a i might feel comfortable in my body and mind way.... oh i love him

baldia...

I am going to be so honest with you all. sometimes you send me asks that make even me- yes, me, tumblr user honeyhonest- flustered. I have to put them back in the inbox and let them sit for a few days so I can collect myself long enough to read them again

listen. I really. REALLY like friends to lovers. it's my favorite fanfiction-y trope ever. my favorite relationship dynamic. and yknow what. it's sexy!!!!!! the longing, the discomfort, the fear, the GUILT. HOT!!! it's really good with idia too. ofc slowburn is great but something about these- this- this "we should have sex" thing always really get to me. the implications. the impies. the trepidation and fear of rejection so he frames it as a joke, just a silly suggestion, maybe he can pass it off as a magicam meme or something. you going "...yeah, okay" and the complete awkwardness that ensues. not really knowing how to kiss even though you've imagined it 10,000 times (so many more points if someone's a virgin) bonking your heads together or scraping your teeth or something unpleasant that makes him sharply pull back. he probably has to take a breather before you can continue. it's nothing like his hentai games or even the normie porn he watched to prepare himself for this. it's suddenly So Real and no one knows what they're doing and he's afraid he's going to gross you out or scare you off and so he's being very slow and careful. THE IMPIES!!! what does it mean??? you don't talk about dating but there's a sort of unspoken understanding that you're not going to fuck anyone else after this, This is It. of course he's lowkey panicking because oh my god sex is scary. where DOES he put it in. and he's supposed to be ready but he isn't!!! he so isn't. if you have it in you he might appreciate you riding him so he doesn't freak out about being on top and messing something up U_U he'd end up stopping to pull out and cum on you and then he'd do his corny ass laugh and go "just like in hentai!!!!"

one good casual-friends-to-lovers I like is when two virgins decide they want to lose their virginity (not for any special reason, just so they're not virgins forever and can hopefully move on to be more experienced in future relationships) and since they're Right There with each other... yknow

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

🖌️ 🩹 if you want? I always need more Joshua content (and the poor man is going to beat the lice-having allegations someday I swear)

Old Houses and Forever Homes - Joshua Whitmore/Reader

Warnings: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N.

Wordcount: 6256

Summary: You've done it, you bought a house with the mysterious artist who captured your attention in a hospital parking lot, and you're more than ready to start this new chapter of your life with him as he builds the place up for you.

Notes: Lice check secure, he is all clear 👍 this ended up changing from my initial idea as I wrote this time, usually my ideas don't stray too much when it comes to readers unless they get away from me and become super long, but hey, that just means I can always write more for him hehe hope you like it, my fellow Joshua lover 😊🤝🖌️🤝😊

The house is everything you’ve ever wanted in a Forever Home, even if it did need some work done. Joshua was again proven wrong as you'd toured it together, the photos on the realty site had been old, due to the fact that the owners had been hiring someone to fix it up so they could update everything for the new year and hopefully bring in some buyers. Because of this, half the work had already been secretly done with everyone thinking it was still a dump, so they’d been able to work in peace for months while looking forward to being able to ask for more when it was finished. This makes him surprisingly happy as he checks everything out, rushing ahead of you to claim his new, larger studio with a view he could actually enjoy when he feels like it, and you fall even more in love when you join him as he talks to himself about where everything would go.

He’s so vocal now because he doesn't need to hide, and you decide that you love the sound of his voice even when he’s being completely insufferable as you wrap your arms around his waist and just listen and picture what he’s saying.

You let your landlord know of your upcoming move and thank him for everything, and while he’s sad to lose out on such a good tennant, you know that he’s no doubt relieved now that people wouldn’t be flocking to his property the moment you and Joshua leave for work to get a glimpse of his art. It’ll be nice to not have to worry about that, and you make sure to ask him where he bought your tub as you sign off on your final month to make sure there’s time to pack everything up. The house is still being repaired, but Joshua keeps insisting that he wants to do the rest himself, to know that him getting out a hammer would be to build things up, not to tear them down so he had a place to sleep, and you can’t argue with that, even if you still have no resume of that kind of work by him yet.

That week, you finally meet and come to a wonderful deal with the elderly couple who’re selling. They take one look at the two of you, young and in love and ready to take this step together, and talk fondly about how they see their own children, their growing grandkids. Immediately they know that you are the ones who have to be the new owners, it just feels right, and it makes you so happy to think about the idea of starting this journey with Joshua. 

Of course he just rolls his eyes at that, he’s very much done with talk of fate and other miracles to last him a lifetime, but they’re happy and old and don't even notice as you shake their hands and accept their hugs and offers of some of the candy she has in her purse for her grandkids.

You waste no time on moving your stuff over once the paperwork is finalized and the locks are changed again for his peace of mind. The floors and walls have already been fixed up so they could proceed with the rest, and he gladly takes it all on himself as each room is slowly completed so they can be filled one by one. You still have the rest of the month in your apartment so there's no rush, and your landlord is nice enough to give you an extra week or two, free of charge, if need be since you’re doing this all by yourselves, but it seems like he can't get there fast enough now that the deal has been made. You know it's for purely selfish reasons, he was so ready to turn this place down until he saw what it could offer him, but again, he was so used to taking whatever he could get, so you'll gladly let him think this was all his idea while the mood is still high.

You're spending your weekend off work moving the last of his studio into place since it’s the easiest room to finish, his completed paintings since he’d returned from New York now decorating every room and adding colour to the walls while he fixes up the kitchen, he truly wasn't lying about being a handyman in one of his old jobs; the patio doors are open wide as he measures, cuts, and paints the new cabinets so they fit the old frame, and a big bag of handles and their screws is resting on the ‘new’ stove the elderly couple so kindly donated since they'd wanted to upgrade theirs, or so they said. 

He doesn't turn it down, it's a few years old but it's in great shape and that's several hundred that you don't have to spend, and he installs it himself until you need to step in and finish the job when he can't get it to work and you start fearing about the house blowing up.

You keep taking peeks at his progress between each trip back to the apartment for more, you can only bring so much at a time, but you don’t complain even though it seems like his things are endless. It allows you to enjoy the nice weather before the fall chill can start to take over soon, and you can't wait to start enjoying those cold nights with him curled up with you. It's been months but the thought of him sleeping alone with nothing but his sleeping bag and backpack still makes you pause when you think about how he is now, what he has because you'd been unable to let him go. 

He's so different from the man you met in that hospital room, that man was still there of course, but now he’s happier, more lively, ready to finally live again instead of just run and survive in order to keep himself. You're so glad that you were the one to give that to him when no one else could, that your curiosity had been so strong that you couldn't stay away to the point that you'd inserted himself into his life when he'd wanted nothing more than to continue on as he was forever, and now his forever was currently being spent drilling cupboard doors that he'd built himself into place.

You grin wide as you wait at the stoplights, your backseat and trunk full of the final boxes of his art to mount to the walls along with the smaller miscellaneous things you’d left for last, and by the time you get back to him he's moved onto the big pantry next to the fridge, everything else done. ‘At this rate you'll be able to finish off the bathroom too,’ you say as you walk in with another box of art to place by the door, and when he looks up at you he looks very tired, but content. 

‘You work me harder than Bryant,’ he jokes as he wipes off his forehead, and he falls back so he can sit, take a moment to rest his weary limbs, and watch you carry in the next box. ‘Were you able to get the rest of it this time?’

‘Yeah, last box is all your brushes,’ you tell him as you set down another box, the sweat gathering on your own forehead with each trip. When you carry in said brushes along with the rest of his tools you set it down and sit next to him so you can catch your own breath, and he glances at you before leaning against your arm.

‘I forgot how nice it was to do this kinda stuff, to create other things even though art will always be my passion, to make something for myself,’ he says almost to himself as he looks at what he built, the two of you no doubt already sorting the dishes still at the apartment into the many available spaces he'd been working on all day. 

‘You're good at it, why'd you quit?’ you ask as you mentally stack all your plates, and he gives a small shrug and itches at his ear until you make him stop.

‘It was a job, something to do so I could keep going after a couple months, I don't think I could've been happy doing it everyday, not like when I paint,’ he explains as he draws a design in the air with his finger, and you lean over more to see that he was planning something for the cupboard door above him.

‘Well, we still have that hole in the roof to deal with before it starts wrecking stuff down here, so when the bathroom is done you can fix that up and be free to go back to your painting, Mr. Whitmore,’ you tell him as you look up at the ceiling, and his eyes follow yours as the final task looms overhead. ‘I mean, I get why they didn't tackle it first since they wanted to be as discreet as possible, but I feel like they really should've at least started on it, right?’

‘If it's there then they could get more in the end by making the house look undesirable until they can start on the outside, if the place gets bought before everything's done then they only lose out on a lemon,’ he figures with a frown, his eyes then trailing over the room. ‘There has to be a way up there, we've been here so many times already but I can't find it, I don't wanna scale the outside just to jump into the attic.’

‘Well, let's take a break and find it, who's gunna stop us?’ you suggest before standing, and you offer your hands to him to help him up before you take one side of the house while he takes the other. You search every ceiling, every closet, every single room for a way into the small attic above, because there had to be some way even if it was too rundown to have a use, but come up with nothing until you lean against the wall in defeat and hear a faint thud of hollowness echoing behind you. ‘Hey, Joshua?’ you call out to him as you jump away like it'll break under your weight, and he rushes over like he's worried you're in danger. ‘Check out this wall, am I crazy or does it not sound… solid?’

He comes over and knocks on it, his ear pressed to it to listen, and he comes to the same conclusion as you before rushing outside to grab his tools. He comes back with a hammer and a crowbar, practiced hands carefully tapping until he finds the seam hidden under the new paint and putty, and you give him space as he jams the end of the crowbar into the wall and starts to break it all down again. You're thankful that your furniture is still back at the apartment as the floor gets decorated with bits and pieces of wall, and he doesn't stop until he's torn it all away to reveal an old door hidden behind the new drywall.

‘Okay, I'm starting to regret signing the deed so fast,’ you try to joke as every horror movie you've ever seen suddenly comes back to you at once, but he isn't afraid, he's been living in places like this for years, and he shows you how unafraid he is as he quickly locates a flashlight and walks right in. ‘Wait! Don't- christ, don't go without me, if you fall through the ceiling and break your neck I'll never forgive myself,’ you nearly stutter as you file in the thin hallway behind him, and your hands cling to the back of his shirt as he shakes his head at you and presses on. The hallway is very short, less than the length of the rooms on either side so it could fit the stairs up, and you almost comically loudly gulp as your wonderful Forever Home slowly turns into a haunted house before your very eyes.

‘It's okay, just take my hand, the railing needs to be replaced,’ he tells you as he starts to go up, and you can see the light from the flashlight mix with the sunlight coming through the hole in the roof as your eyes readjust. He doesn't let you go as you go up together, and when he reaches the top of the stairs he brushes off a place to sit before taking up the landing and helping you cross that final threshold; your eyes are shut tight as you expect a horrorshow to be awaiting you up there, but at the gentle touch on your cheek you crack open an eye and see that it's surprisingly not as bad, just as the downstairs had been. It's still bad, the hole in the roof is very much creating an entire ecosystem up there, but you can feel how excited he is at how big the place is, how much extra space this will surely give him.

‘This room is mine,’ he tells you before you can even offer it to him, and you lean your cheek against his thigh with a smile as he starts talking about all the work he has yet to do.

He switches gears to start on the attic now that the way up has been discovered, and together you guess about why it was closed off to that extent as you help him measure and cut and paint. You provide all the horror ideas, all borrowed from movies you've seen while he counters them with more realistic ideas; for a person who loves to create he always gets so literal about these kinds of things, and you just listen fondly as he spouts of very plausible options of them just not wanting to climb the stairs anymore, or not needing the space and eventually forgetting it was even there after they walled it off.

You decide that the whole thing should be left open since it was hidden between the open living room and his closed off studio, and the door to the latter ends up moving from the far wall to right next to the stairs with a bit of fanagalling. You do need to end up hiring some men to help open up the wall so a new bannister could be added, and to rebuild the stairs so they were a bit wider, even though Joshua could've done it and he lets you know that repeatedly the moment they leave after doing their initial diagnosis and measurements for tomorrow. You just kiss him until he falls silent again, many promises that they won't touch the attic so it can be all his enough to satisfy him now that he's fully in building mode. 

With the added help it’s enough of a push to make you start moving in all the furniture to the bedroom since the living room was now being taken over by their equipment, and the only additional hiring he allows is the small trailer you rent so the bed and dresser can be easily relocated. He's so protective over his space you start to notice as he shoulders most of the heavy lifting, he'd always been almost territorial in a way once he'd moved in with you, but now you were seeing that it extended to the whole house as well. 

He doesn't want anyone to come in, to invade his space where he felt safe with you, and you feel a twinge of residual guilt at not keeping them out the last time. He doesn't blame you for it, you'd been charged at after all, no one could stop an entire group on their own, but you still feel bad as he avoids the eyes of the men who’re now working on the stairs and sticks to moving his door and fixing the new hole in the wall where it used to be. 

Thankfully, if they recognize him from the news they never say anything to either of you, and you slowly fill the kitchen with dishes and other cookware as they screw the new bannister into place so he’ll be able to easily get to his second studio.

He starts working on the attic alone once they're done, and you only bother him to move the heavy things as you handle everything else by yourself. It's good, hearty work to make sure he feels like this place won't be swarmed with the press and old bosses again, you haven't even told anyone at work that you've moved just for that extra bit of security until he's completely certain that this place will be what he needs in his own Forever Home. 

You'd set up the bed alone before, dragged your dresser into place with a broken back, unpacked everything you owned into that apartment, and you have to admit that it feels nice to be able to yell up the stairs for him whenever it becomes too much, which it thankfully rarely is. You can tell where he is above you as you stuff your clothes back into the dresser and new walk-in closet that he gave all to you, he still doesn't have enough to take up more than a drawer in your expansive dresser. With the size of the place you can easily fit in a second for when he was ready to buy more, art supplies always take priority when his few outfits still work for him just fine, and you make sure to leave space for it as you finish off the room.

You hang up his hoodie on the hook by the door next to your fall jackets when you get to it, it's so nice to have that sight back again in this new place, and you're in the middle of folding up the now empty box when you hear a shout and a clatter. You race upstairs, the place doesn't feel haunted to you anymore so this is easy, and find him on the ground as he sucks his finger into his mouth, the fallen hammer laying by his feet. He looks positively sour, he'd smacked his finger in the dimming light of the setting sun, and you walk over to check it out and access the damage; the nail is miraculously saved but it's still bleeding something awful, and he hisses between his teeth as you decide that he's done for the day, time to come downstairs and decide on dinner, you don’t have the energy to cook anything.

‘I'm almost done, just hold the light for me so I can finish this, then I can tile tomorrow,’ he frowns as he yanks his hand back when you try to make him stand, and you scoff and look at what he's done today.

‘You are, but I've got the bedroom done now, so I can help you finish this up tomorrow, I'll take the day off before the rain hits this week,’ you promise him, but now that the stairs are open it's a perfect doorway for creatures to pry past the plastic and creep inside, and he knows what it's like to wake up to raccoons and possums digging through his things. 

‘The faster it gets done the better, you won't be so ready to sleep when the wind blows the staples out and we get bats,’ he mutters as he tries to go back to it, but the sun is setting faster thanks to the late month, if you let him keep at it then he'll forget to eat and even sleep just the same way he does when he paints, so you have to forcefully drag him away until he stops fighting you. He goes quiet as you check out the takeout menus you brought over now that almost everything is there, you can eat without having to drive home officially, and it takes you until you hold them up for him to decide on what he wants before it hits you that he's upset.

‘Joshua, I'd really like it if you got cleaned up and ate something before you go back to it, I'll help you, you don't have to do this alone,’ you give in at the sight of his expression, and he picks at his nail with a wince until you make him stop that too.

‘I thought I'd been doing better with this, so you don't have to worry about me like before after everything,’ he mutters so softly that you almost miss it, and you pull him against you as you lean back against the counter.

‘You have been, and you are, I can't tell you how proud I am of you for it,’ you tell him with a kiss to his forehead, and you taste the fallen dust and various hazards that’d stuck to his skin over the day before you quickly spit into the sink. ‘Sorry, I got too eager, we need to remember to put in a window once the roof is fixed, otherwise you'll never be able to paint up there,’ you point out after rinsing out your mouth, and he looks at his caked arms between the clean patches thanks to his sleeves and gloves.

‘Proper ventilation is vital for any painting space, otherwise I'll risk slight suffocation as well as possibly getting too high to focus off the fumes, I also got ahead of myself,’ he admits as it hits him that he was so determined to close everything off that he would be keeping all the toxins in, and you tap where you kissed with a slight grin.

‘And we can't have that, can we?’ you tease him, and it eases him enough despite looking upset about relapsing back into old habits. ‘C’mon, the tub might not be what we had, but I can still wash your hair for you before you get sick of how cramped it is, gotta make sure you don't bring any friends to bed with you tonight after being up there all day.’

‘Friends?’ he asks as you lead the way, and your face flushes as you open the door at needing to explain the joke.

‘Y'know, lice and other creepy crawlies, who knows what's been living up there?’ you whisper as he frowns again, and he glances at himself in the mirror before really leaning in.

‘More likely to get fleas, but I should be fine, spiders never bother with me,’ he says as he determines that he's still safe, but now the thought of the man you're about to hug might really having some guests hanging on makes you jump back before you can touch him. ‘You'd never last a night in any of the places I've been in, here.’ He quickly strips everything off and tosses it into the washing machine, and you eye it just to see if anything will run out before he's the one chuckling at you. He strips you down next, tosses your clothes in with his before immediately starting it up to prove to you that it was fine, but you're no longer as eager to leave the attic open until you both can go through and finish cleaning up every corner now that the floor was laid and the roof was almost done. 

He's the one to guide you to the normal-sized bath and shower combo, no large jacuzzi until you could save up and get a similar one so this place could truly be a home, and it's very cramped as he pulls the curtain closed and reaches past you to get to the tap. The water that sprays out is so cold it makes you yelp, and he laughs a little louder before adjusting it to your usual comfortable temperature and locates the body wash sitting on the corner shelf. 

‘Never done this before, can't say I prefer it to the baths,’ you confess even though being so close to him is still nice, and he makes you turn around so he can start cleaning away the sweat you'd worked up over the day.

‘It’s not as nice, but I'm glad we can still do this much together, you've honestly made me hate showering alone, since we met,’ he says as he washes, carefully lathers up every dip and curve to the body he's memorized better than a paintbrush, a canvas, the same painting he tried over and over to perfect. 

‘I'm glad the room is big, there'll be just enough space for it once everything else is taken care of, maybe for Black Friday we can find one on sale,’ you plan ahead, and at the sound of his sigh you know you've just found another thing he hates.

‘Consumerism at its best, people literally killing themselves for a better deal, each store marketing themselves more than ever before to bring in more dollars than they'd make even with the slashed prices, I'm not surprised you bought into it,’ he groans as he reaches for the shampoo next, and you're not offended as you silently urge him to continue. ‘Even before I left New York I'd see it, before I realized how much each year was offering more and more distractions to take everyone away, how everyone would nearly freeze themselves to death out there in their lines, like cattle naively lining up for a slaughterhouse, and the butcher's knives were the products they wasted all their hard earned money on. Things they didn't need, just because it was there and cheap, just one more distraction or pill to swallow to make them forget that we're all one step closer to the grave.

‘Now it's all electronics, flashing distractions that can kill time for longer, to teach their kids for them, to make life a little easier when really it's just turning them all into zombies at the push of a button, all for an easily affordable price if you can get to it before that kindly old lady over there breaks your jaw trying to get it first,’ he grumbles as he washes your hair for you, but even with him being angry he never tugs or tangles, his hands still gentle as he runs his fingers through the bubbles to make sure there's no knots.

‘Wow, you really think you're better than everyone, don't you?’ you say as you turn to face him, the suds instantly getting in your eyes like karma as the both of you then quickly rinse them out again. ‘I don't- ugh, ow- I don't mean it like, you're playing up the pretentious artist looking down on all of humanity schtick or anything, it's just that we've been together almost four months now and you haven't run out of things to say, there has to be something in there that you don't feel this way about.’

He thinks about it before leaning under the water to wet his hair, and when he pushes it back he looks like the man you saw on stage before it fades back to him, from Mr. Whitmore back to Joshua. ‘I don't feel this way about you, even though you keep repeatedly falling into every single society trap that ruins people,’ he says as he brushes your own hair back, and he thinks some more before leaning down, plugging the drain so the tub can fill, and shutting off the shower head so the water can run freely from the tap instead. ‘You do, but it's never ruined you, I've seen it affect so many people over the years that it made me do nothing but hate, but not you.’ He guides you down until you're kneeling, and with a bit of trouble he spins so his back is to you so he can be cleaned next, just like you always did back at your apartment. ‘Maybe miracles do exist…’

‘I think they do, I mean, if I hadn't left early that day I never would've seen you, never would've wanted to meet you, then we wouldn't be here.’ You hold him as the water rises, your chin on his shoulder as he slides forward so his joints can rest more comfortably even though he can’t stretch out fully in here with you behind him. ‘I'd still be alone back at that apartment, and you'd-’

‘Still be out there, probably switching states because those kids told someone where I was,’ he finishes for you, and you don't want to picture him sleeping on the floor after a long day of painting in another empty house instead of fixing up his first home in years. ‘I never wanted to admit it, because I didn't know when I'd move on again, but this whole time I've been waiting for the dream to end, for me to get sick of you the way I did the others because I still didn't know how to love, or for you to cash in on me and sell me out when you got tired of me like everyone else.’

Your eyes go wide as you look at the back of his head, and he visibly shrinks as he voices not his fears but his expectations. ‘Joshua, I would never,’ you swear to him without mentioning the first part, because, if you were honest, you still don’t know why you’ve been the only exception to his frustrations over everything even when you keep offering him more and more reasons to toss you in with the rest.

‘I know that now, I started believing it when you came to get me, and don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you keep trying to hide us from everyone even during all this, so they won’t find me again,’ he admits, but he’s still tense, something is still eating at him. ‘And before you say it, yeah, there’s been a time or two where I thought that all of this was too much, just too much work, too much stress, too much that was different between us for this to work out just like the last person I was with.

‘Between you coming around at the hospital like all the nosy reporters I’ve ever avoided, to you hounding me to make sure I took care of myself, and then you constantly insisting that you didn’t hate me even though I’ve brought nothing but trouble into your life since we met, I was truthfully going to end it when you looked at this place and actually wanted me to be here with you in it, like you saw all of the bullshit I put you through just because I’m me and still wanted to keep spending time with me and waking up to me and watching me paint not because I could offer you something in return, but because you- because you…’

‘I love you.’ You stand up and carefully step around him, your legs forcing his together as you find a new place in his lap, and he avoids your eye but has nowhere to go in a tub this small. ‘You’re insufferable, you talk like you know everything about everything when in reality, you’d gone for so long without being around technology that you couldn’t tell a goddamn iPod from a tape recorder. You’re pretentious about things, you lose yourself in your work until you make yourself sick and I have to take care of you, you talk shit through all my movies about how much you hate TV, but you’ve got nothing to say about that when it’s time for you to show me your own favourites.

‘You ignore your own needs because you don’t want to be a bother to me, you keep insulting where I work because it’s a boring desk job instead of something I can be passionate about, you make me feel guilty because I drive places instead of walk if the destination is far even when I need to get groceries. You keep telling me that you don’t know how to love even though being with you is the happiest I’ve ever been, and sometimes you act like I’d be better off if you’d just disappeared even though you know that living through that exact situation broke my heart,’ you list off relentlessly at him, and with each one he shrinks more and more until the water running down his cheek isn’t from the turned off shower. ‘You do all of that, and you still don’t get that I want to live here with you because I love you so much despite it all, despite everything that drives me absolutely insane day in and day out, because it’s you that’s doing it.’

He meets your eye when you touch his cheek, brush away his tear with your thumb, and you kiss his forehead again before pressing your chest to his so he can feel the way your heart is beating behind your cooling skin.

‘I went to New York because I can’t live without you, so of course I wanna move into my dream home with you, that won’t ever change no matter how many times you remind me that technology is splitting people apart and that the world is a scary place. I never have and never will want to take anything from you, I want to create a new life here with you, and whether that be through rebuilding this house or… or starting a family, hell, even by buying some fish or something, I want that, so as long as you don’t get sick of me, then can you maybe stop trying to convince yourself that I’ll get sick of you?’

You don’t realize that you’ve also started crying until he kisses the wetness from your cheek, and you just hold each other in the tub until the water gets too high in your distraction and starts to overflow. You quickly shut it off as the two of you scramble for the towels and make an even bigger mess in the process, the tub really is too small after all with how fast it filled, but cleaning up the mess and protecting his new cupboards is just a comfortable closer on the knowledge that you’d both gotten some bottled things out and worked through them without having to catch a plane to a different state to make it come out. 

You steal glances at him as you try and get the water that spilled under the washer and dryer while he soaks up the main mess with every other towel you own, the both of you completely naked and shivering and covered in goosebumps, and when he meets your eye you can’t help but laugh at the pleasant absurdity that your lives have become, which makes him do the same. So much has happened since you met him, and yeah, maybe buying a house together after a few months was moving pretty fast, but once you’d had to watch him drive away, and then felt that pain of being alone, you’d known that you could only ever be with him, and this just solidifies it as he drains the tub so it’s usable again and tosses the wet lump of fabric into the washing machine with your clothes.

‘I never wanted to start thinking about you getting tired of me,’ he finally says after getting back into the tub with you, and the water is much lower as you start washing him like you’d both gotten so used to. ‘It’s just hard, not to go to that, after everything else I’ve been through since I started being more public with my work.’

‘I know, you’ve lived through more than I probably ever will, but I want to make sure that the rest of your life is everything you deserve, starting with a warm bed, your own studio far away from prying eyes, and hot food made by someone who loves you,’ you whisper as you wash off the soap and start lathering up his hair. He hums to himself, he truly likes the sound of that, and he’s ready to fully let himself enjoy it as he leans into your touch until you’re washing it all away, no creepy crawlies would be joining you tonight when you get into bed with him for the first time in this place.

‘I didn’t know the pizza guy loved me,’ he jokes once his hair is rinsed, and you gently shove him with a snicker as he lets himself laugh at the joke.

‘You’re absolutely insufferable,’ you groan as you squeeze the water from his hair as much as you can now that you have no towels to dry off with, looks like you’d need to settle for dish towels for tonight if you wanted to answer the door in about a half hour’s time.

‘And you love me for it,’ he says softly like he’s not only teasing you but also finally accepting it now that he’s said it out loud.

‘And I love you for it,’ you agree, and you kiss him as the drain swallows all the proof of your shared hard work for the day so you can eat, finish the roof together so you could avoid those visiting bats, and then wash it all away again before bed.

[theliterarywolf]

Hazbin Hotel

The little pilot that could, the runaway hit with the simple premise of 'What if Sinners Could Be Redeemed, What Kind of People Would Want That, and What Kind of People Would Oppose?', now turned into an Amazon Original Animated Series. Sharing the same platform as Invincible and...

Uh...

Hm.

Anyway, this series has been a long, long, LONG time coming. To the point that we had people theorizing that the whole thing was a scam or that it would never come out.

I feel like those people could use a lesson on how time-consuming animation is, but I digress.

The point is, the series is out at last: debuting with four episodes on Amazon Prime with the rest of the season scheduled to come out weekly.

And what is there to say? Was the premiere worth the wait? Are these sinners doomed to burn in obscurity? Was watching these first four episodes a Helluva chore?

While it would be easy for me, as someone who has followed the 'Hellaverse' since the premiere of the original Hazbin Hotel pilot all those years ago, to just gush over the fact that all of these beloved characters have transcended the online space to mainstream screens, such flippant praise would be a disservice to my fellow creators.

Thus, to go about things in a bit more of a refined approach:

Hazbin Hotel (the series) takes the conventions of what was established in the pilot and refines them down into a more serialized story. The core premise is still the same: Charlie Morningstar, the idealistic Princess of Hell, daughter to fallen angel Lucifer and Adam's original wife Lilith, is taking it upon herself to end the qualms of Hell being both overpopulated and a target of Heaven's yearly extermination bloodbath by establishing a sanctuary for sinners to redeem themselves. The titular 'Hazbin Hotel' (originally the 'Happy Hotel').

Of course, such a premise in a literal den of sin and inequity is easier said than done and, so far, the series is doing a good job of showing Charlie learning that redemption isn't as easy as singing songs and making nice.

Though, rest assured, there is plenty of singing to bear witness to. Of course, with a cast of Broadway's finest, it's to be expected that the musical accompaniments will be just as much as a feast for the eyes as the colorful, unique character-designs.

Though, sometimes, those character-designs aren't able to shine as much as they should, which leads into my first critique. Which, considering there are only two, stands as a testament to the work Spindlehorse and BentoBox have accomplished her.

In the first two episodes (this issue seemed to have been fixed in episodes 3 and 4), there are countless instances of characters having odd shadowing. It has the unfortunate consequence of the characters moving like they aren't a part of their environment. Of course, again, this seemed to have been fixed for later episodes, so hopefully it doesn't show up again.

Back to the music: standout pieces, thus far, are Adam's taunting "Hell is Forever (Whether You Like it Or Not)", "It Starts With Sorry", "You're a Loser, Baby"... I'd also point out the bombastic duet between young upstart overlord Velvette and arms-dealer overlord Carmilla Carmine, but I forgot the name of it.

However, this leads into my second critique. During "Happy Day in Hell", Charlie's 'I Want' song (because every princess needs one), her girlfriend and main confidante Vaggie is back at the hotel singing her own additions to it. And everytime she sang, I just wanted to scream 'Can someone PLEASE tell this bitch to emote?!' Let it be understood that I know what the direction was: Charlie is being bombastic and bright and happy singing out her dreams and goals while Vaggie is lower, more realistic, and deadpan.

However, its the way that they had her new VA execute that direction that could have been a bit better because it doesn't stand out in the best way. Which is a shame, because later on when we hear Vaggie in both her duets with Carmilla and her love ballad to Charlie, her voice does wonders. Though, I have seen some people say that it might not be the same VA, which would be weird: why would you hire a Broadway VA and then just swap them out?

Other elements of note: Episode 4 is definitely my favorite so far, I gushed about the direction and delivery of the "Poison" sequence here, Zestial is one of my new favorite Hellaverse characters, I need merch of him pronto, and...

Oh! One final note:

Back when the original HH (the series) trailer and promo material was coming out, I had a slew of anons in my inbox bemoaning how the series is yet another 'Heaven is actually evil' plot. Yet, after watching these four episodes (episodes 1-2 three times each, twice since I had early-access and once more when the series premiered proper), the series narrative is less 'Heaven is evil and Hell is just misunderstood' and more 'Angels are fallible, demons are fallible, the notion of a status-quo is as fickle as rice paper but you have to do more to change it than sing about good vibes'.

Final Rating: 8/10

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

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🦇 The View From the Top Book Review 🦇

❓ #QOTD What's the last risk you took OR have you ever gone hiking? ❓ 🦇 Emily Janssen prefers playing it safe, still working at the inn her grandmothers own while dreaming of a day she can fully support herself with her art. Ambitious Diana Devlin is ready to take over as CEO of her family’s hotel chain when her father retires. Everything is going to plan until an unexpected run-in with an alluring artist on a mountainside throws Diana off course, resulting in one of the hottest nights either she or Emily have ever experienced. When Diana's plan goes off the rails, leading her to start her own company and buy Emily's grandmother's beloved inn, neither can forget their memorable—and steamy—night together, even when they're forced to play it professional. Will the view from the top be worth the climb, or will they both have farther to fall?

💜 Rachel Lacey always develops such well-balanced sapphic ships and realistic female protagonists. Emily and Diana are no exception. While Emily has fallen into a comfort zone (unknowingly allowing fears to take lead), Diana pushes past fear, allowing her goal-oriented mindset to take lead. While Emily has built a found family for herself, despite the lack of blood relatives, Diana is surrounded by blood yet still feels alone. Lacey also excels at creating queer found families in her novels. The Adventurers group is sweet, supportive, and gives Lacey the opportunity to expand this single story into a series for each member of their queer rainbow. Diana's relationship with her nephew is heartwarming and precious (hopefully he gets his own story in the future). I especially adored the contrast between Diana's ambitious mindset and anxiety, proving that we never really know how much a person is struggling (especially when they're so good at hiding it). The fall festival chapters make this a comforting read for autumn--I could have lived in those chapters (with a mug full of cider) forever.

💙 Crescent Falls, Vermont seems like the perfect setting for a small-town romance, and it IS. Unfortunately, we don't get to fall into the setting through descriptive language as much as I'd hoped. Even when Emily is painting the rich scenery around her or Diana is immersing herself in this new, charming town, the prose fails to draw us in so we're walking alongside them. That lackluster word choice fails to create the emotional entanglements and tension Rachel Lacey excels at in Stars Collide. Given that the author was sick with COVID and took a break while writing this, it's understandable. That emotion-based writing usually builds and builds until the FMCs can't contain themselves; until NOT touching is torturous. Unfortunately, there's a long stretch where the two FMCs are apart, which causes the story to stall. There's some longing, yes, but it doesn't grow to the point of impatience. I'm also a little disappointed that the characters didn't see the solution to their long-distance relationship sooner, though I do agree it presents a perfect ending. Also, the epilogue gave me total Schitt's Creek vibes, which I LOVED for them!

🦇 Recommended for fans of Alexandria Bellefleur and Ashley Herring Blake.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🍁 Forced Proximity Small-Town Romance ⛰ Queer Community 🪴 Found Family 🩷 Sapphic Romance 🎨 Mental Health Rep ⛰ Lesbian & Bisexual FMCs 🍁 Third Act Breakup?

🦇 Major thanks to the author @rachelslacey and publisher for providing an ARC of this book. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #TheViewFromtheTop

💬 Quotes ❝ Somehow she managed to look as sweet as the flowers she painted while simultaneously being one of the sexiest women Diana had ever seen. ❞ ❝ I’m damn good at wish fulfillment. ❞ ❝ “Feel the fear and do it anyway.” ❞ ❝ She was trying so damn hard to keep her attraction under wraps, and if she got tipsy and stumbled around a darkened pumpkin patch with Emily… well, she’d probably either end up kissing her or having a panic attack. ❞ ❝ "I see you weren’t only admiring my flannel for sapphic reasons." ❞ ❝ "Take a risk. Aim big. Fuck fear. What do you say?” ❞ ❝ Maybe she’d stood in one place for so long, she’d become rooted to the ground. She was terrified of what might happen if she set herself free. ❞ ❝ "Yesterday, I wanted someone to pick me for once. I wanted you to pick me." ❞ ❝ "You’re the first person to show me that I can let my guard down, I can be vulnerable, and you won’t take advantage. You let me be myself and appreciate me for exactly who I am— flaws and all— and I… I didn’t know how much I needed that until I found it.” ❞

[tired-of-being-nice]

day 3: pinned down

sliding in riiiight under the wire with my second ever first ever febuwhump post! hopefully this won't be a pattern (it will be)

i thought it'd be fun to do a sort of sequel to my actual first ever febuwhump post :) the guys. the lore has become more coherent since i wrote that so sorry if theres inconsistencies

cws: restraint, referenced blood & injury, referenced torture, amnesia (unbeknownst to pov character)

This is not the worst night Coren's had in recent memory, but it's pretty damn bad. Too many people to catch, too many of them fought back— Coren hates it when they do that, it always ends up leaving everyone worse off, they've tried to explain this to their quarries but they never seem to get it. They're technically supposed to be on patrol for the next few hours, but things had finally calmed down, and they thought maybe a couple minutes' rest couldn't hurt. A couple minutes turned into... more than that, and now they're lying on the ground curled up in a ball, trying to breathe as deeply as they can without hurting their probably bruised ribs. Most of them feels bruised. Their lip is split, and it's gonna take forever to wash all the blood off once they get back home...

Someone kicks them in the ribs, and Coren hisses in pain—yup, definitely bruised now—and curls up tighter. "Back off," it says, trying to sound as intimidating as it usually is. "I'm- 'm very dangerous, and I've had a bad night, so you..."

"Yeah, I can tell," an all-too-familiar voice says. "Hey, Coren."

Coren groans and tries to roll over to face away from them, but has to stop halfway due to a protest from their shoulder (dislocated?). "Ugh. Not you."

"Oh, yes, it's me," Milo says cheerily. "Hm. Now, what to do with you..."

"You could leave me alone," Coren suggests, without any real hope. Maybe if they try really hard, they can get to their feet long enough to get over to a wall, and then they can...

Milo grips their wrists, and Coren yelps in shock as they are abruptly pulled out of their curled-up position and laid flat on the ground, staring up at Milo. Their instincts, belatedly kicking in, tell them to try and pull away, but Milo's grip is surprisingly strong. They have it firmly pinned in place, and as this realization sinks in, Coren tries increasingly hard to struggle free, panic temporarily overriding pain.

It doesn't work—they're not strong enough like this and they're not thinking straight—and Coren finally stops and goes limp. Even that trick doesn't break Milo's grip; they're still holding it firmly in place, staring at it with an unfathomable expression.

"Well?" Coren says with a huff. "Gonna kill me, or what?"

"Kill you?" Milo says, sounding genuinely shocked. "Of course no— why would I kill you? That would defeat the whole point!"

"The whole...point?" Coren says, blinking.

"You know. Interrogating you."

"Oh," Coren says, closing their eyes. So that's the game, is it? "Alright. Go ahead." Best to get it over with.

Milo seems thrown by this for a minute, but recovers quickly. "Okay. Uh. Who am I?"

Coren opens its eyes again and squints at Milo. "...Is this a trick question?"

"No, I mean..." Milo hesitates. "Like, what do you know about me?"

"Uh." This still feels like a trick question. "You're Milo. You work for one of my company's main rivals. You're kind of weird."

"Have we met before?"

"Yeah, a couple times. We met at this function thing when our bosses were trying to pretend to get along and you made a weird face at me. Then I saw you a couple times after that. You threw rocks at me one time. You're not the only one," they add hastily, "I'm not holding a grudge, don't worry. But it was kind of weird, because I wasn't even chasing you or anything. So like, what did I even do to you?"

Milo half-laughs. "You have no idea."

"I guess not, no," Coren agrees. They wait politely for a couple minutes. Milo is just kind of staring at them with an incomprehensible expression on their face. They're being bizarrely gentle— Coren's wrists barely even hurt. 

"Are you going to ask me anything else?" Coren says eventually. 

Milo startles, as if they somehow forgot that Coren was there while looking right at it. "Uh. No. I guess not."

They don't let go of it.

Coren sighs. "You're really weird." Torture would have made sense. This is worse; it's confusing. They think they feel a headache coming on.

"It's alright," Milo says with a sad smile. "You probably won't remember this conversation in a couple days, anyway."

"Of course I will," Coren mumbles. "Don't know what you're talking about." It closes its eyes and resolves to ignore anything else Milo says. It's too tired to bother talking to people who don't make any sense.

taglist (sorry i forgot to use it for like all of whumptober): @whumpsoda @snakebites-and-ink @cepheusgalaxy

[shootforthestars-28]

How we are with this season finale of Chicago pd...

What the future hold??

I have *so* many feelings post-finale! 😅

My thoughts are below the cut so, for those of you who haven't seen it yet, there are spoilers below.

Firstly, I'm truly gutted that we're losing Tracy from the cast but at least she got a better, more believable send-off than Jesse did. I still can't get my head around how they thought it was appropriate to have Jay simply up and leave Hailey after everything they had been through up until that point. It really just doesn't sit right with me!

Secondly, why the fuck was Chapman the one to sidle up to his gurney before he got loaded into the back of the ambulance?! I swear to God, if she becomes his love interest in Season 12, I'm rioting! 😅 While I do agree that perhaps the events of the finale might be the start of Hank opening up to someone, I really don't think it can be her. The dynamic of him being in a meaningful relationship with someone who, professionally, would go over his head at the drop of a hat, I don't think would work. He values trust and loyalty too much to let that happen.

Speaking of trust and loyalty...Alvin!! 🥹 How I loved seeing those to share the screen once more. Watching that scene, I found myself feeling really nostalgic for the older seasons when we got to see a more comedic Hank... mainly because it was Alvin with whom he shared those moments with. But this was an excellent little addition to the episode that was well written, well directed and superbly portrayed.

I thought the father/daughter arc was a sweet angle to take on Hailey's departure, albeit very similar to that of Erin's. I'm pleased to see that the door for both Jay and Hailey is very much open but it was evident to see that it wasn't Hank and Hailey on screen in the last few moments of the episode - that was very much Jason and Tracy.

Upton fans have been really vocal on socials this year on how afraid Tracy is of Jason and how intimidating he is on set when the evidence to the contrary is so overwhelming it's almost amusing! There is clearly a lot of love, respect and affection between all of the cast members which is seen in the plethora of behind the scenes photos and videos we get from the cast and crew. Having visited the set a few times myself, I can verify that first hand.

I have watched and re-watched the video posted on social media of Jason 'yelling' and 'swearing' at Director Jesse on set when, in actual fact, they were running through a scene and Jason asks Jesse "why are all the fucking cameras over here?". Jesse replies and Jason says "oh, okay" and runs the scene again. Anyone who knows even the smallest amount about Jason knows that he's a swearer. I'm not saying that's the right or wrong way to behave but after spending nigh-on a decade around him, from what I can see, neither Tracy nor Jesse seem to be phased at all.

Overall, I think it was a fitting way to end the season.

In terms of what's next, well the unit is now down to four so I suspect we're going to need to more hands on deck! Whether Petrovic will decide to stay or not, I'm not sure but one thing we definitely need is more Detectives! Hopefully the time has finally come for Officers Burgess, Ruzek and Atwater to finally pass their Detectives exams!

We're also due a Burzek wedding which I'm hoping to God Trudy Platt is heavily involved in!

And I'd love to see a happier Hank. With all the loss he's experienced, I'm hoping he can find something/ someone that makes fighting to live in the finale worthwhile... just as long as it's not Chapman 😂 He needs a Det. Katherine Meadows in his life 😉

I could go on forever but thank you for asking my opinion 💛