#I thought like eyyyy

[aniraklova]

PYRAMID HEAD

[spacebubblehomebase]

Not art this time but...

Headcanon: Lucifer visits Earth every decade or so as a part of his job as the ruler of Hell. He does it to learn about new sins as "subtly" as he could.

Lucifer: What is ray-sings-sims? Raising-sims? Raisins? Rain-Race-sin? R-Racisms? YES! That! Is it the one where people hate on the opposite sex for absolutely no reason even though humans were all made of the same cosmic dust?

Black woman: (Looking amused at the most stereotypical rich white guy she's ever met asking about sexism and racism.)

Lucifer: Yeah. This cocaine thing is doing absolutely nothing for me. I don't really get it, but this is a sin too. So marking that off the list! Thanks for letting me have a go at this, uh, Mr. Dealer? That's your last name, right? Oh man. I'm really bad at remembering names, but have this as a token of my appreciation. (Gives him a thousand dollars which is basically worth even more at the time.)

Drug dealer: (Gobsmacked the guy was still able to keep walking after practically inhaling every drug in existence back then in one go.)

Lucifer: So this, um, cult thing? How did it get assigned to our department again? It sounds just like what Heaven does to me. Huh. Ah well. I guess I'll just roll with it like everyone else here. (Shrugs.) Yay, cult! Sooo do I get to keep the robe? It's kinda comfy- Aw wait there's murder? One died a-and another... Oh... OH... Ooooh boy. Oof. Yikes... So this means I can DEFINITELY keep the robe, right?

Lucifer: Ah yes. Burning the witch. Time to list down all the sorry souls who threw their life into the flame by believing in the occult arts. (Lists down everyone in the crowd who burned said "witch.") And as for Ms. Agnes The Witch here... Hmm. Well, that's for Heaven to worry about! Toodles~! Or, uh, Tickety-Boo!

(Needless to say, dear Luci has been an accidental charmer back on Earth. ^v^ Specially to sinners and people who were just unjustly treated during those times. He just had to see what every sin was for himself and try them out from time to time, but he didn't know he's been perceived as acting with the manners and traditions he gathered from the LAST decade he was on Earth so to everyone who's long gone pass those times, he comes off as a polite old-school rich white man. Naive yet surprisingly non-judgemental.)

-Bubbly💙

[punsandburningroses]

I guess I understand logging out of one's ao3 to kudos/comment on "problematic" fic so that you don't get cancelled but at the same time...

If someone comes after me for leaving my kudos/comments under my username and tries to cancel me it's like "mhm mhm and what were you doing reading that fic? Because you wouldn't have seen my name on it at all if you hadn't made it to the end."

Just food for thought idk

[vladilife]

olivia rodrigo - bad idea, right? ft. verivery

[crackedpumpkin]

|| ʙʟᴀɴᴋ ᴄᴀɴᴠᴀꜱ || ᴘᴛ. ᴛᴡᴏ ||

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The sun is annoying, and the world can survive without vegetables.

This is the conclusion you’ve drawn after waking up to warm, yellow rays that shine directly onto your closed eyes. You blink groggily, rubbing your tired eyes with a free hand while the other brushes your teeth. 

“Honey, you’re gonna be late!” 

You mumble out an incoherent reply to your mom from the bathroom, quickly tossing on a thin cardigan after rinsing your mouth to rid the intense menthol sting that lingers on your lips. Entering the kitchen once done, however, provides you with a delicious reminder of how amazing of a cook your mom is. 

You grab a fork, devouring the scrambled eggs on toast. Sriracha stains the plate as a result of your messy eating habits, placing the now-empty plate in the basin with a satisfied hum. “Thanks, Mama!” You grab your school bag and rush to the door. You pause at the small alcove before the door, stepping down and slipping on your shoes. 

“Bye, Mama! See you later!” You call out before shutting the door behind you. The walk to school is as usual, with loud car horns being beeped as people rush to work while you stroll past graffiti-filled walls on the side of buildings. The street outside your school is already crowded with various cliques chatting away, and you enthusiastically greet some of them with nods and half-smiles as you enter through the main gate.

You polish off your taco, throwing away your napkin after using it to wipe your lips of any grease stuck on them. You look up at the sound of your name being called, grinning once you see a short brunette walking down the hallway. “Morning,” You greet Nicole cheerfully, opening your locker and pulling out the textbooks and notebooks you need for the day.

“What’s with you today?” 

You hum at her question, glancing at her with a quick shrug as she scrolls through Instagram. Nicole’s the first friend you made here in Brooklyn High School after transferring here four months ago. She had been the first to approach you, asking to borrow a pencil after she forgot to bring hers to class. 

Like any other teenager being forced to move cities to somewhere completely new, you stick to her like glue after that, eventually infiltrating your way into her friend group. 

“You know me, studious and independent’s the vibe I got goin’ on,” You grin at Nicole, draping an arm around her shoulder and giving her an affectionate squeeze. She looks up from her phone with a frown, using her finger to push up her glasses which had slid down slightly from their usual perch on her nose.

“Don’t be so uptight,” You chuckle, nudging her side. She sighs, rolling her eyes in amusement instead. You’re interrupted from your conversation on where to hang out this weekend at your name being yelled out from a distance away. 

“Eyyyy, que pasa!” You laugh at Michael’s greeting as he comes up to you with an outstretched fist, bumping it gently after removing your arm from where it was resting around Nicole’s shoulders. “Have you studied for the quiz today?” He asks, slinging a casual arm around your shoulders while you walk down the hall with Nicole beside you. 

You hum with a quick shrug. “Think so?”

“Man, you gotta get your head down from the clouds, bro.” He chuckles, trying to move sneakily to stand beside Nicole, who simply holds up her hand, stopping him from coming any closer with a glare. He retracts the arm he’s about to sling around her shoulders with a sheepish grin, holding it up in surrender.

“Anyway,” He brushes off her clear rejection, focusing back on you, “I’m planning a hangout with a few friends to celebrate the end of exam season. You in?” You immediately nod with a wide grin, already excited at the thought of goofing around with your friends. 

“Of course, you’re invited too. Maybe we can have our own little hangout-” 

“I’d rather stab my right arm.” Nicole cuts him off with an angelic smile, though her venom-filled words elicit an amused laugh from Michael. “Ah, how I love that icy nature of yours,” He sighs with a shake of his head.

“Who’s coming?’ You ask absentmindedly, adjusting the two notebooks in your arms. 

“Jeremy, Ally, Geoff, Tiff, Miles…”

“Miles? As in, Miles Morales?” Nicole finally speaks, eyes wide in surprise.

“Who’s that?” You don’t recognise the name. The rest you’re familiar with, though. They’re all in Brooklyn High, just in different classes. You’d seen them in passing around the school, and they recognised you in turn as one of Michael’s friends. 

“Right, you don’t know him. He transferred a while before you joined. He’s in Brooklyn Visions now. Here,” Nicole holds up her phone to your face, and you squint at the picture on her screen. Huh. He’s kinda cute, you suppose.

“Cool. Guess we’ll meet during the hangout then.” You sit down at your desk, Michael sitting at the desk beside you while she takes her seat in front of you.

“Wait, how do you know Miles?” Nicole rolls her eyes as she turns around in her chair, placing her elbow on your desk as she leans on her palm. 

“He helped me out a couple of times.” She answers simply. Michael frowns slightly. “Were you two….?”

“Why? Are you going to be devastated if I say yes?” Nicole smirks. “Unfortunately, it’s actually because our moms knew each other.” She sighs, holding up her free hand to observe her nails.

Before Michael can respond, the bell rings to signal the start of classes. They pass by in a flash, and all too soon, you’re outside the door to the art classroom. You’re hesitant to enter, eyeing the doorknob as if it’d burn you as soon as you touch it. 

“Well? Will you stay outside collecting dust, or will you enter?” You flinch at the sudden voice, looking up to see Miss Dawson looking at you with an expectant gaze. Her arms are crossed, waiting for you to go inside. 

“Y-yeah, I was just about to, but then I realised I forgot my…. brushes?” 

“You stored them in my desk drawer last week because they were too heavy to carry home with you.” 

Damn it. You purse your lips, huffing at your forgetfulness. “Fine,” You mutter, grabbing the doorknob and turning it, walking to your usual corner of the room. You pull out your sketchbook and pencil case, leaning back in your chair and waiting for Miss Dawson to start her lesson.

“Today, I’ll be assigning you a task for your end-of-year exams. I know some of you are interested in building up your portfolio to apply for the Brooklyn Academy of Fine Arts or maybe even to other schools in different states.” You perk up slightly at the mention of art school, placing your hands on your sketchbook. Miss Dawson speaks slowly yet surely, looking at each student with pure conviction. When her gaze lands on you, you’re a hundred percent sure she can see every thought that crosses your mind, each doubt that lingers in your heart. 

“Your topic is, Your Favourite Scenery.”

Murmurs spread through the class, everyone looking at each other with worry. You bite your bottom lip, chewing on it in thought as you furrow your brows. Sure, the topic might seem simple enough on the surface, but the fact that it’s so broad is exactly what unnerves you.

Having a chosen topic is good as a guideline, even more so when you know precisely what your favourite scenery is. With the addition of inspiration and motivation, it’d be a breeze to complete.

The problem is, you have none of the above.

You’re not sure what scenery you enjoy, much less have a favourite. Sure, sunsets are pretty, and skyscrapers are cool, but not much really struck you as deeply. You’re made aware of Miss Dawson gesturing for you to come over to her desk, hesitantly standing up and walking there while everyone else is discussing among themselves about the topic given.

You part your lips to greet her, only to be cut off when she holds out her hand expectantly. You huff, handing her your sketchbook. She flips through the pages, frowning slightly when she sees the random doodles and mindless sketches until she stops on a specific one.

She hums, taking in whatever’s on the page. You can’t remember what you’ve drawn, but you’re more than reluctant to admit how much of a slump you’ve been in lately. It’s not like you can come into class, declaring your lack of talent whilst waving your hands in the air.

You focus on Miss Dawson's makeshift jar of pencils on her desk, recalling someone else gifting it to her for Teacher’s Day. The blunt nibs are a testament to how much she uses them, a bedazzled one drawing your attention. You pick it up, observing the tiny sequins firmly glued to the wood with a fascinated gaze. 

You flinch when Miss Dawson suddenly clears her throat, automatically moving your hands behind your back and focusing your attention back on her. “So, I assume you had an encounter with our city’s local hero?”

“How’d you know?” You ask, eyes wide in surprise. 

She simply turns the sketchbook around to face you, the sketch you’d made last night of Spiderman clear as day. Your cheeks warm, the drawing having slipped your mind. “Looking through your sketchbook, it’s obvious that you’ve been in a slump, honey. But this sketch…This is really good, maybe even one of the better ones you’ve done.”

“Thank you?” You’re not sure if she just complimented or insulted you. 

“Seeing him must have helped your inspiration somewhat, didn’t it?”

“I guess so. I dunno, it’s not like a switch I can turn on and off anytime I want.”

“Well, you’ll have to learn how to keep it on. And for this assignment in particular, I want you to focus not just on your favourite scenery. I want you to focus on what exactly makes it your favourite.” Miss Dawson hands the sketchbook back to you with a knowing smile, and you take it from her unsurely.

“Right…” You return to your desk with one dismissive wave from her hand, sitting back down with a defeated groan. You prop your chin onto your hand, staring at the sketch blankly.

An art slump is the worst. Besides, it’s just a drawing of Spiderman; although it is admittedly some of your best work, it’s not like you can just channel that again at the snap of your fingers.

You need inspiration. You need motivation. You need….a muse, which can only mean one thing.

You’re gonna attempt to find Spiderman.

Attempt #1: Have a friendly run-in!

“This is such a bad idea; why am I even trying to find a superhero? I’m literally just going to ask him to be my muse and he’s gonna say no, which is gonna be so embarrassing and I’ll never be able to show my face around here again and what if next time I’m being robbed he turns away because it’s me??”

“Okay, calm down. He’s not going to turn away because he rejected you, or he wouldn’t be a superhero. Also, you’re literally being paranoid because I’m not there with you.” 

You frown, pulling your phone away from your ear to check if it really is Nicole you’re calling. “That’s not true.”

“I know when you’re lying.”

“Okay, maybe I’m being slightly paranoid, but for good reason! Why can’t you just come with me? You’re good at getting people to do what you want.” 

Nicole’s soft chuckle somewhat relieves you, knowing she took it as a compliment. “I’d come over, but I have to help plan the outing with the group, remember? And I’m not the one with a ride to an Art Academy on the line - you are.”

“Wait, outing?”

“Yeah, remember this morning? You’ll meet Miles then; I think you’d get along. Anyway, you’ll do fine. Michael told me Spidey swings by the hotdog cart every Tuesday, so I guess it’s reliable information.” Nicole reassures you, though her last few emotions are filled with a tinge of doubt. She pulls the phone away to mumble something to someone, and you’re sure it’s an insult based on the irritated bite in her voice when she returns to the phone.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow then…” You say reluctantly, unwilling to hang up the phone.

“Yeah, bye.”

The monotonous dial tone greets your ears after Nicole’s curt goodbye. You shut off your phone, flipping your sketchbook to an empty page with a sigh. You rifle through your pencil case, picking up the sequined pencil you’d accidentally taken from Miss Dawson and tapping it against the blank paper.

Draw your favourite scenery.

You look around, taking in the vibrant green trees and serene lake, the joyful laughter of children and parents filling the air. It’s peaceful. Dogs wander around, some leashed and some set loose. One approaches you, but you wave it away, flinching when it gets too close for comfort. It’s no longer peaceful.

“You can go away now…” You mumble, poking its side to hopefully urge it to move away from you. Your legs automatically move up to the bench, drawing your knees close to your chest. “Shoo, bad dog! Where’s your owner?” You glance up to check if their owner is nearby, only for your bedazzled pencil to be snatched out of your hands.

“Hey!” You exclaim angrily, reaching out to grab it from the dog’s mouth. You hesitate when you see the dog drool dripping onto the end of the pencil, eyeing it with a shudder. You take a moment to steel yourself, grabbing the slimy end with as much force as possible, trying to yank it free from its mouth. 

“Let go of my stuff! That’s not yours! I have to return it to Miss Dawson, you stupid dog!” Your grip slips, and you land on the ground with a yelp, wincing when your knee gets scraped by the coarse dirt through your ripped jeans. 

“Give it back!” You demand, lurching yourself forward and grabbing the pencil again. However, the dog growls playfully, thinking of it as nothing more than a game for entertainment. “This is why,” You grunt between shallow breaths, “I prefer cats!”

Your sketchbook had fallen beside you, the beautiful cover now stained with dirt. You narrow your eyes into a glare, scowling at the dog. “Let go!” 

It finally does, maybe because it sensed that you wouldn’t be playing with it. You fall back once more, your back hitting the ground harshly. The breath is instantly knocked out of your chest, and you inhale deeply, trying to force more air back into your lungs with a choked gasp. 

You sit back up, holding the pencil up victoriously until you remember that there’s dog drool all over your hand. You groan in disgust, searching for a tissue to wipe it off. Wait. Your sketchbook is missing. 

You look around frantically, only to see the exact same dog from earlier now burying a half-open sketchbook into the dirt. Your sketchbook. A strangled yell rips itself from your throat, practically throwing yourself at it with a glare that could rival even Karen herself. You push the dog away, scrabbling at the dirt to uncover your almost completely buried sketchbook. 

“Bye, Spiderman!” Your head instantly turns at the sentence, spotting the familiar black silhouette nodding his thanks to the hotdog cart owner, his hotdog securely held in his hand. He flicks his free hand and shoots a web onto the side of a building, beginning to leave.

“Wait! I have a ques-” 

He swings off into the distance, already blocks away in the span of a few seconds without hearing your cry. Your arm falls to your side, collapsing back onto the ground to catch your breath while your sketchbook lies buried in the dirt. 

Damn it.

Attempt #2: Get Mugged!

“God, I hope this works,” You mumble. The streets around you are dimly lit, and you’re armed with nothing more than your bulky pencil case and a whistle, both stored in the deep pockets of your hoodie. The handbag containing your wallet and phone bumps against your waist, the strap loosely slung across your shoulder.

You’re the perfect walking target to be mugged.

Granted, this is probably one of the worst ideas you’ve had in the history of bad ideas. The chilly Brooklyn night breeze tickles your ears with an icy breath, and your body gives an involuntary shiver. You scan the empty streets hopefully. When was Spiderman – or better yet, a robber, going to show up?

Whether it was desperation or pure adrenaline driving you forward at this point, you couldn’t tell.

But you’re here, and you’re determined to see things through.

Minutes pass of you wandering the dark streets like a fool, and you’re just about to head back home when you sense that something’s off. Your steps slow, and you hear someone else’s shoes scuffle a short distance behind you. 

You start to speed up, fingers gripping the heavy pencil case in your pocket. You’d been hit by it before by accident and did not get away unscathed by any means. Your heartbeat quicks its pace in your chest, sensing them get closer with each step. 

There he is.

You finally spot Spiderman chilling on the roof of a nearby apartment building, breaking into a run. The mugger behind you grunts in surprise, and you hear him start to run as well. Your breaths are short and ragged, and you finally reach just below the building. 

“Stop right there, missy!” Looking up from where you’ve bent over to catch your breath, you see the sharp knife blade held up at you. The robber is slouching, just as out of breath as you are. However, he straightens his back and flashes you a yellow-toothed smirk from under his cap, and you shudder at the bits of dirt clearly seen in his beard. 

You hold your arms up in surrender, risking a quick glance up, only for Spiderman to jump down and land smoothly right in front of you. “Hey man, didn’t your mother ever tell you not to play around with sharp objects?” He tuts, shaking his head as he uses his web shooter to tug the knife away from the robber.

The knife lands in his hands with ease, the robber immediately turning to flee. “I don’t like doing this bit, but you leave me no choice!” Spiderman does a quick frontflip and lands before the robber, grabbing his shoulder and tilting his head. “You should’ve known better,” You hear him scold, and spot a light blue electric current flowing from his fingers to the robber, knocking him unconscious. 

Spiderman lets go, taking a surprised step back as the robber falls to the floor, unconscious. He winces, dusting off his hands and walking toward you. “You shouldn’t come out here during the night,” He chides playfully, grabbing the knife that had fallen to the floor when he caught the mugger. “You’d be in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t here.”

“Yeah, thank you. Actually, I wanted to ask-”

“Whoop.” He cuts you off, glancing at his watch, “I’d love to stay and chat, but duty calls! You’re gonna want to take a right down here, another left, and then one more right and you’ll be at the main street. Stay safe!” He gestures down to a more brightly lit street, patting your back before shooting his web shooter at a nearby building.

“Wait- Ugh,” You groan in defeat, watching him swing off again without hearing your question. Your arm is outstretched, fingers barely brushing against his arm before he leaves. 

DAMN IT.

Attempt #3: If he doesn’t stop and listen to the goddamn question, you’re going to lose it.

“Calm down, pinto.”

“I spilt pinto beans on myself, one time, people. One. Time.” You frown, crossing your arms. Nicole smirks, shrugging nonchalantly in response. 

“Yeah, yeah. Michael told me that he saw your Spidey boy swing around the taco truck down the street a couple times every Thursday, so we should keep a lookout. Don’t want your sketchbook taken away from you again, do we?” 

“How does Michael even know all this?” You mumble. 

“Look, we don’t ask him questions, and he doesn’t ask us any. It’s a two-way street, pinto. Use those brains of yours.” You shove Nicole lightly with a roll of your eyes. Falling back, she leans against a wall, immediately pulling out her phone and scrolling through it. 

God, she has a serious internet addiction. You choose to scan the crowd instead, your gaze sweeping over the kids from the Brooklyn Visions Academy filling the street, having just gotten out of their clubs. You look somewhat out of place with your own uniform, shuffling your feet slightly when they glance over with confused gazes. 

You raise your brows in response to a few of them, and they leave with a haughty scoff. You roll your eyes. Stuck up snobs, the lot of them. Hopefully, the information Michael provided is accurate, though you’re sure you’ll never know where he gets it from. 

“Hey, is the bowling alley chill with you for the hangout? Miles sucks at bowling, so we can team up to obliterate the boys.” 

“Sure,” You reply absentmindedly, only to pause and turn to face her. “Is he not free to meet up before, though? I’d like to get to know him first, so it won’t be as awkward.” 

“Nah,” Nicole frowns at her screen, “He’s busy on all the days I suggested. Something about homework and stuff. Maybe he’s turned into one of the snobs.” She puts her phone away with a snort. “Also, there’s your Spidey-guy.”

“What?” True enough, he’s at the taco truck right now, ordering a taco and waiting patiently. Spiderman has to have lunch breaks too, you suppose. You watch him tap his fingers against the metal table, bobbing his head along to a beat playing in his mind.

You grit your teeth, grab your bag and keep your now clean sketchbook, having wiped off all the dirt with a cloth and the best surface cleaner you own back home. Your eyes shine with a determined glint, practically marching through the crowd to him.

“Hey!” You stumble back, looking down at the bright yellow mustard on your pristine white shirt. “Are you kidding me?” You growl in frustration, looking up to see a girl dressed in the Brooklyn Visions uniform holding up her ruined basket of fries, the small toppled tub now on its side and most of the sauce on you.

“Watch where you’re going!” She huffs, looking at you with pure disdain. 

“Watch where I’m going? Watch where you’re going!” 

Oh God, please let him still be there-

Spiderman is holding his taco now, trying to slip away through the crowd. Your eyes narrow into a glare, pushing past the girl with a muttered apology, running as fast as possible to catch up to the superhero.

You spot him jogging into an alleyway, following suit. You stop, however, when you see that it’s empty. “What?” You mumble, looking around frantically for him. You hear a loud coo, looking up to see the very hero you’re looking for crawling along the wall of the Academy dorms. 

“Wha-?” Now you’re baffled. You watch him reach a specific window, using an arm to open it and enter before sliding it shut behind him. Three floors up and the last one down the hall. Got it. You run to the entrance, only to be stopped by a security guard.

“Woah, woah, woah. Only students of Brooklyn Visions Academy are allowed inside.” He chuckles, holding a hand in front of you to stop you from entering. 

“No, you don’t understand! I need to talk to someone inside.” You try to plead, but he merely raises his brows. 

“Okay, what’s their name?”

“W-well. You see, here’s the thing.” You laugh nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. 

“Mmhm. Come back when you have their name, and I’ll call them down for you, okay?” He dismisses you, using his hands to turn your shoulders around. He pats your back slightly, sending you on your way.

You frown, brows furrowing in thought for a way to get in. Maybe Nicole would have an idea. She’s eerily good at stuff like this. Your feet pound against the pavement in a steady rhythm as you run back to where you had left her waiting.

“Nic!” You call out, panting heavily once you reach the girl who’s still in the same position as when you left. “I need help; I gotta sneak into the dorms of the snob school.” You say through your gulps for air, your lungs screaming for more oxygen.

“You need to sneak in?” She asks, looking up from her phone with raised brows.

“Yeah. I can’t explain right now, but I really need your help.” You confirm breathlessly.

She mulls over your plea for a moment before shrugging, moving away from the wall and pocketing her phone. She stretches her arm above her head momentarily. “Stay here.” She orders before stepping out of the alleyway and out of your sight. 

You wait, albeit impatiently, tapping your foot as urgency consumes you. Nicole soon returns with the Academy’s blazer in her hands, tossing it at you with a grin. “Got it for free; you can keep it. I gotta go for a study session. Will you be okay on your own?”

“Yeah, thanks, Nic.” She never fails to impress you every time. You thank her quickly before returning to the dorm entrance, wearing the blazer on the way. You halt once you reach it, keeping your head down and fastening the buttons securely, hiding the bright yellow stain on your shirt. 

God, it’s probably going to get onto the blazer too, you wince. Spotting a group of girls walking into the entrance, you jog over and stick close to them, walking past the security guard from earlier. 

Once you’re inside, your tense shoulders sag with relief, a massive weight being lifted off your chest. The atrium is pretty cool, but you don’t have time to admire any architecture right now. You glance at the two winding staircases, signs directing the students to the boys' or girls' side.

You recall the window being on the right side of the building, walking up the respective staircase. Luckily, not many students are around. Most of them have gone out. 

Third floor, last room down the hall.

You take the lift up, exchanging an awkward smile with another girl who’s clearly sneaking in as well. She gets off at the second floor, and you spam the button to close the lift doors. As soon as they close, you practically collapse against the wall with a long, drawn-out sigh of relief.

The lift doors open to the third floor. You peek your head out, looking around. Good, there’s no one.

Stepping out of the lift, you pause. Do you go right, left, or straight? From what you recall of the exterior structure, you’re pretty sure it’s the hall on your left. Steeling your resolve, you walk down the carpeted floor, your footsteps muffled. 

There it is, the room at the end of the hallway. You raise your hand, knocking on the hard wood once, twice, three times.

Silence is all that greets you.

“Is anyone there?” You call out softly. When no one responds, you grip the doorknob just to check. To your surprise, however, the door swings open with a single push, revealing the room inside. 

It wasn’t locked.

“Pardon my intrusion….” 

You step over a pile of clothes on the floor, your nose scrunching at the smell. Deodorant and musk fill the air. A picture frame sits on a desk to your left, with a photo of a short boy.

That can’t be him; his stature is too different.

Another picture sits on a small nightstand, and you pick it up to see a familiar face. The boy in the picture with his family is tall, with chocolate brown eyes and raven-black hair. You frown, tilting your head. Where had you seen him before…?

A soft thud draws your attention. Something had fallen to the floor from where it was squashed between the bedframe of the bunk bed and another piece of furniture. You bend down, picking it up. 

Spiderman’s mask hangs loosely in your grasp.

You look multiple times from the mask and the poorly-hidden suit to the picture, finally connecting the dots. You pull out your phone, hurriedly texting the one person who could confirm your surefire theory.

yo, Nic. send me the picture of the guy - Miles, i think? - Read, 2pm

Sure ig. dont go stalking him tho - Nicole, 2pm.

The strong vibration of your phone alerts you to a new text. You look down, thankful for Nicole’s fast reply. Opening the text, an image of the ever-so-elusive Miles Morales fills your screen. 

Oh my god.

Your eyes widen, your suspicions confirmed.

It can't be.

But it's the only explanation that makes sense. 

Miles Morales is Spiderman. Spiderman is Miles Morales.

You hide the mask back where it's dropped out of its hiding place, swallowing thickly when you hear the lift ding, making your swift exit.

Rushing down the hall, the last thing you expect is to bump against the very boy you’ve been looking for. You don’t dare risk a glance, recognising him just by his shoes alone. Ignoring his apology, you run off, making your exit.

Once you exit the dorm entrance, most of the tension leaves your body. Making your way back home, your mind reels from the discovery.

Miles Morales is Spiderman.

While you slip away from his notice, Miles spots something in his peripheral vision. His suit had fallen slightly out of his hiding place. Thinking nothing of it, he goes to stuff it back in when he sees a small spot of yellow on the side of his mask.

Yellow?

He brings the mask up to his nose and takes a sniff. His brows furrow at the familiar scent.

...Mustard?

He wipes it off with a shrug.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Birthday Shenanigans

Stephen King: boy, looks like that bungler elon musk really bungled it again! King: another rocket exploded! boy! Elon Musk: [appearing from ushes] eyyy Stephano king Musk: you thinka you so smart? Musk: whatsa matta for you?? Musk: i breaka you face!!!

Musk: checka dis out [Elon posts an AI image, again it is unclear what it is supposed to be] King: oh yeah uh King: i still don't know what that is King: joe what is that Joe Hill: i can't help you this time, dad

Musk: eyyyy brazil, you thinka you can enforca laws? Musk: checka dis out! [elon posts poop emoji, Brazil bans twitter] Musk: mama mia!!! Musk: dissa spicy meatball!!

Musk: dissa take ALLA my genius brainapower to meme outta dis one! Musk: [takes extra big bump of ketamine]

King: whoa elon i don't think a person is supposed to take that much ketamine Musk: shut uppa you face Stephano king! Musk: you thinka you know about takinga too many drugs? King: King: yeah i kinda think i do

Mary Shelley: sup fuckers? Poe: oh mary it's you Poe: steve is talking to his friend elon again King: for the last time, we're not friends! Shelley: you want me to take care of this, steve? Shelley: i can make it look like an accident

Poe: now mary there's no need for violence Shelley: i didn't say i need to do violence Shelley: i said i want to do violence Shelley: its my fuckin birthday Shelley: so i get a fuckin treat, okay?

Barker: wasn't your birthday yesterday? Shelley: yeah and what did you all get me? Poe: Barker: king: Lovecraft: Koontz: i drew you this picture of Frankendog

Koontz: he's like Frankenstein but a dog Koontz: i thought he would be better as a dog :) Shelley: yes dean i remember Shelley: that was real nice Shelley: so for that, you're exempt from paying the penalty

Poe: the penalty? Shelley: yeah since you all forgot my birthday Shelley: i get to punch each of you Shelley: in the dick Poe: now come on mary Barker: don't argue with her edgar, we're getting off easy

Shelley: step right up, who's goin first? Shelley: how but you, 2 gun bob? you think you got some brass ones? Howard: now hold on thar, parda- [Shelley punches Robert E Howard, he doubles over] Poe: oh no! 2 Gun Bob! Lovecraft: 2 Gun Bob! Barker: 2 gun Bob! King: 2 Gun Bob!

Shelley: who's next eh? i ain't got all day! Barker: how about jack? Jack Ketchum: Shelley: Ketchum: Shelley: Ketchum: Shelley: yeah i'll pass on that Ketchum: smart choice

[serickswrites]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait V

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Warnings: referenced captivity, referenced torture, referenced blood, referenced wounds, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee's awareness returned slowly. First they were aware of their body. And that they weren't in any pain. They were blissfully not in any pain. That in and of itself was a miracle. So much of their last moments had been full of pain they were sure they would feel pain when they awoke in the after life.

They next became aware of the sounds and smells around them. Everything smelt clean. There was a steady beeping sound that came in and out. They could hear the hushed murmurs of people around them.

Is this what the afterlife was like?

But as Whumpee tried to open their eyes, they realized they weren't dead. Caretaker. Caretaker had saved them.

"There you are, darling," Caretaker's soft voice came as Whumpee finally managed to open their eyes.

"'eyyyy," Whumpee finally managed to say. That was all they could manage. And they were exhausted by it.

"I'm so glad you're here, darling." Caretaker squeezed Whumpee's hand in theirs. "I....I thought I was too late."

Whumpee wanted to reassure Caretaker that they weren't. Wanted to tell Caretaker they were grateful. But they only had the energy to keep their eyes open. They weakly squeezed Caretaker's fingers back, wincing as they felt the pressure on the wound in their hand.

"How bad is the pain, darling?" Caretaker's brows pulled tight with worry.

Whumpee didn't want to worry Caretaker. But the longer they were awake, the more aware they were of the burning pain deep in their chest. The ache in their shoulders.

"Don't worry, they can give you some more. You just need to rest, Whumpee. Rest and heal. You and I have all the time in the world."

And though Whumpee would have very much liked to stay awake. To talk to Caretaker. The pain was becoming unbearable. They gave a nod and Caretaker pressed the call button. Soon enough, Whumpee was floating again. They were floating away, but they knew that Caretaker would keep them tethered. Keep them tethered and be there when they woke again.

Because Whumpee would wake again. Caretaker had found them. Caretaker had saved them. That in and of itself was the miracle that filled Whumpee to the brim with joy. They would get to live with Caretaker. They would get to live.

Tags: @theelvishcowgirl@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees@lil-klaus @defire @eyehartart

@lthrboy @whump-is-love-whump-is-life @whumpitywhumpwhump @noisilyeclecticmilkshake @painsthegame

@mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @whumpitisthen

@tender-traps @demetercabingreen-thumb @artisticdemon @noisilyeclecticmilkshake @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

[skeleboiii84]

Yer just...Beautiful ❤

a Mafiafell Sans X female reader

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

It was a dark stormy night..you were working at your desk quietly with your headphones in as the storm raged and thundered outside. You glanced to the window once or twice with a soft sigh gently escaping your lips.

I hope he's ok..; you thought as a shock of bright blue lightning fell from the sky lighting up the room momentarily making you jump a little. You'd been thinking about butch all day mostly, you just didn't want him out in that weather. You were worried yet you somehow got a feeling he'd be just fine.

You sighed once more to yourself as you let the music fill your head. You had a lot on your mind..you couldn't help but think of so many different things at once. The past few years had been rough, work wise was just stressing you out..as well as fake friends and fake past love. Everything was getting under your skin, you were just glad that Butch was there to hold you through your tears. And boy did you miss him right now.

As you lost yourself in your thoughts you felt a firm yet gentle hand on your shoulders. Was it? Who were you kidding you knew who it was and you immediately felt a warm smile spread across your face.

"Heya babydoll~ whatcha doin?" You chuckled as you took out your headphones and turned to face him. You were stared back at, as his red eye light created a soft red glow against your work desk. "Nothing..i was just thinking about you though"

He smiled, clearly happy with that response as you felt his thumb rub soothing circles on your back that gave you the good goosebumps. "Heh, glad to hear i—" he was cut off by a loud bang of thunder that made you squeal.

"Eyyyy..woah woahhh babyyyy, babyyy slow down aight? Take it easyyy C'mere.." He chuckled as he sat up on the bed with a smile welcoming you to his embrace. "Mm..ok.." You mumbled and climbed into his lap and hugged him closely, as his big strong arms around you making you feel safe.

You heard a gentle chuckle and looked up at him, "what?.." You mumbled. "Nothin..yer just...Beautiful" he whispered thumbing your cheek softly. You hummed and let him do so.

"I love you.." You whispered, he hummed and kissed your temple only saying "sleep.." In a low gruff tone. His hands wandered up your jumper and scratched your back and kissed you cheek, humming in a tone that slowly lulled you to sleep.

And with that you both fell asleep, forgetting about the storm and the only thing that mattered to you both was that you were alone...together..in each other's arms. Cuddling sweetly and warmed laying against each other and damn there was no place you'd rather be..

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

Hellloooooo my darlings~ sorry I've been away so long TVT I've been so busy recently and haven't had much time also we hit ✨400✨ Followers!! Thank you all so so much 😭😭 it feels like only yesterday I just hit 100 you are all so kind and lovely❤

Well Enjoy some Mafiafell food for dinner~✨ see you soon darlings!

[plumadot]

eyyyy paladin Martyn in your dnd au we're twinning :D ive also got a (loosely) dnd au w Martyn as a paladin it's such a good class for him so im always excited to see other ppl use it in their aus. and oath of the crown w Ren is so good i love that

if you don't mind me asking, you have any more thoughts for Ren and Martyn?

-liloinkoink (on anon bc it's a sideblog)

YEAH!!!!!! idk i think paladins can be sneaky little shits if they want to. as a treat :D

ok so i've done a little thinking about this (please don't expect much, literally all of my thinking is "little")

so like. i'm still not 100% on this but i think i want martyn to be a triton to keep the mean gills energy alive (even though scott and him aren't REALLY connected (yet? can my brain make this happen simply because i like it? idk))

ANYWAY i've been thinking he was raised by clerics of the listener (a group bigb is also a part of) and assigned as a holy knight to noble ren at a pretty young age. their bond has always been kinda different in that ren doesn't only fully trust martyn but also treats him with the respect he'd afford a friend, despite them having very different statuses. they spend almost all of their time together :) and once ren dives more into his family's past and uncovers hidden ties to the infamous red king, martyn's the first person he tells about it!! and of course martyn wants nothing more than for ren to become the powerful and benevolent ruler he knows he's meant to be ~ <3

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: In the House of Tom Bombadil

BEHOLD! ANOTHER CHAPTER! We’re making it at a magnificent clip nowadays

Eyyyy it’s Goldberry!

Frodo surprising himself with the poem that springs out of his mouth when he sees Goldberry will never not be hilarious and adorable

It does beg the question of where the heck that came from. Does Goldberry just have that effect on people? Does it have serving to do with Elf magic, like she implies? Does Frodo just have that accidental rizz?? Who knows!

Frodo: “Who is Tom Bombadil?” Goldberry: “Well, he is, of course, silly :-D”

Mighty convenient that Tom has exactly four beds for the four travelers

They DO take a bath before supper >8-D (Don’t mind me, just a comic idea percolating in my head. Some of you know what I’m talking about.)

Tom was waiting for them. Tom was waiting for them. He’d heard word that the hobbits were coming. He wasn’t actively trying to find them, but he wasn’t surprised when he did. I don’t know why that enchants me so much.

Merry and Pippin like “AAAHH NO DON’T TALK ABOUT THE WILLOW TREE” is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking depending on how you look at it

Heeheehee nightmare time

Frodo has a dream about Gandalf and Black Riders. Hmm, pity. You’d think he’d have a nightmare about water, given his near-drowning and the way his parents died…but I guess this is important for foreshadowing purposes.

Pippin has a dream about being inside the tree. He feels surrounded and afraid. Understandable.

MERRY has the dream about water and drowning?? Shut up!! If I were him, I’d be way more disturbed that a freaking tree was IN MY HEAD and threatening to kill me!!

“Sam slept through the night in deep content, if logs are contented.” Hilarious 🤣

Much apologies to my girlies on the server who headcanon the hobbits with phobias corresponding to the four elements; sadly, Tolkien is not on the same page as us this time.

Tom: “You’d better not be late to breakfast, or you’ll get nothing but grass and water!”

See, Frodo gets it. Rainy days are awesome. They are beautiful and force you to slow down and admire the world.

“The trees were here before you, mind, and they don’t much care for your shenanigans!”

Ooh, so the Barrow-wights are the ghosts of dead kings that the Nazgul woke up. Fascinating.

Nothing makes the world of Middle Earth feel old and rich in history more than Tom’s stories

Goldberry’s hand being partly translucent is such a vibe

WAIT. Tom and Goldberry. Differences. Tall and short. Blonde and brown. One graceful and ethereal, the other down to earth and joyful. Working together, not in competition. Frodo and Sam. SHUT UP GUYS I’VE CRACKED THE CODE—

Tom is friends with Farmer Maggot!!

FARMER MAGGOT HAS SPOKEN TO GILDOR

Dang where’s my fantasy epic about Farmer Maggot you guys

And this is the part where Tom puts the Ring on his finger and doesn’t disappear, and if they’d ever included this in the movies it would’ve destroyed the gravity and mystique of the Ring altogether

Merry having to bite back a yell like “HOLY CRAP FRODO’S GONE” 🤣

WAIT I CAN MAKE THAT ANGSTY TOO aw heck the brainrot is setting in

“Frodo laughed (trying to feel pleased)…” Relatable, Frodo, relatable

Tom: “And remember, DON’T GO NEAR THE BARROW-DOWNS!” Meanwhile, the hobbits, in the very next chapter:

[mewtwoandme]

Hiya, so sorry if this is rude but I just wanted to see whatcha thought of my mimikyu-mewtwo fusion X3

His name is Oreo and he was drawn by a friend of mine

Nah, you're fine, nothing rude about it. Eyyyy look at this boy! I like em'! ^^

[desultory-novice]

EYYYY IM BACK-

okay in all seriousness. I’ve grown curious. So I apologize (hehe) in advance.

Has the sword ever saved you from something? Or like.. Prevented something BAD from happening? Again, touchy subject- I’m sorry.

-

I hope that bitch on the radio's lying in a ditch somewhere...

...Sorry about your luck, kid, but it's take or be taken here.

Shit! You're awake?! Thought that'd be enough for two little kids...!

I think I've located the experi...Hello there, son. Can I help you?

She deserved it! She's creepy! You BOTH are!

Yeah, I robbed them. So? Surprised you didn't think to try.

That little girl needs a real family. She should come with us!

We'll all be dead soon enough. W-Why not have...a little fun...?

Where have I heard that name before...? Wait, you're...!

That your sister there? And how old did you say you were...?

Hey?! You can't be in here...!!

-

...Fontaine...? You came back... I had a feeling you would...

-

-

-

"...Keep it a secret, okay, Addie?"

"Okay!"

(secret?)

".......What were you talking to Adeleine about...?"

(what-secret?)

"Girl's talk!"

"......"

(why-won't-she-give-you-a-straight-answer? what-does-she-want-with-your-little-sister? is-she-trying-to-separate-you-two? or-is-this-just-LIKE-WHEN-...)

"Noir. Are you okay...?"

"I'm fine."

(because-you-can-protect-yourself now. finally. you're-well-and-truly-safe. it's.so.easy-too. you-can-silence-them-all-with-a-thought. or-you-can-draw-it-out. it's-too-bad-humans-bleed-out-because-you-could-have-made-HIM-suffer-for...)

"...Hmm? What's that on your nails?"

"...!!"

(what-will-she-think-when-she-sees-the-blood?! will-she-recognize-it?)

"They don't have you doing sewer work now, do they?" "Kidding! You smell too good for that!"

(she-is-too-observant.)

"It's...just some dirt..."

(she-knows-other-things-too. things-Adeleine-mustn't-know. to-protect-her.)

"...Listen, Noir. Think we could talk some later?"

"Yeah, sure."

(...yes.)

"And...in private, maybe?"

(eye-think-we-should.)

"...I think we should."

-

Noir's Field Trip Masterpost

@kirbyoctournament

-

[ratgrinders]

3, 7 and 13 for little miss kipperlilly for the character questions!!!

EYYYY KIPPERLILLY MY BELOVED

3. Least favorite canon thing about this character?

Okay this FEELS like a cop-out answer but my first genuine thought is how little screentime we get of her! I think as one of the season's major villains I would have loved for her to show up more than like 4 times so we can get a better read on who she is. Props to Fig with the Wanda Childa bit, I think no other Bad Kid has rly doubled down on the "narrative foil" potential of the Rat Grinders.

It's hard to come up with an answer because even the shitty things she does only make her a more entertaining villain to me, but I think I also want more information on how she got fixated on Riz Gukgak in the first place? We know she's envious of his tragedy, but why specifically him and not any of the other Bad Kids who have had magical hardship? Is it because they're both rogues? I need to knowwwwwww

7. What's something the fandom does when it comes to this character that you like?

I LOVE LOVE LOVE all the great art, meta posts, fics, etc. abt her!!!!! I think my fave was after ep. 15 when all the cool true-sight/Buddy murder art was being drawn. I also RLY like people allowing her to be unhinged <3 my girl has an iron vice grip on herself at all times otherwise she'd start stabbing people and im glad ppl recognize that.

13. What's an emoji, an emoticon and/or any symbol that reminds you of this character or you think the character would use a lot?

I think Kipperlilly would LOVE using passive aggressive smileys in text. "Whoever left their dirty laundry out on the floor, pick it up. I thought I was living with people, not pigs : )." "Ruben, turn down your music, we can hear it throughout the entire fucking house : )." "Stop touching my computer or I will FUCKING kill you : ) : ) : )."

[antoinettedoodles]

Hi!!💞💕💞💕 I really love your art😭😭😭

Can I ask you to come up with a baby for them please?🥺👉👈 My Shishio and Epel! Ofc, if it is comfortable for you!!💗💗💗

Take care of your time~ I hope you have a wonderful day🥰🥰🥰

EYYYY HELLO, OYA— Nice to see Shioshio in my ask box 🤭 I was so excited to get into this because I had an amazing idea for ShiPel/EpeHio already- Hope you like it!

Ask Box

Yuusona x Canon Character Child

Meet Kitsu!

Shioshio x Epel Felmier

Personal Thoughts: O r a n g e

If Epel is an Apple, Kitsu is an orange, I dont make the rules and thus, made Kitsu everything orange like Papa Shio! And even chose a Japanese name for him! (Which literally means orange/tangerine), originally, I wanted Clementine but honestly, that can go to another ShiPel sibling (I know damn well Epel is gonna have a big family)

In terms of Dormitory, I cant decide whether I wanted Kitsu in Pomefiore or Heartslabyul but I like seeing him in red, so Heartslabyul it is!

˳೫˚∗ Please give a heart and follow if you like my work!

[tatekane]

I've been reading the comments on reddit about the megabases and burnout, and the take that megabases are "facades", just there to look pretty with no function. Read that continuously it gets exhausting.

I don't know how to form my thoughts I'll just dump it all here:

First eyyyy Scar giving props again to Pearl and Bdubs that they aren't MC builders anymore they've ascended to great artists.

That leads me to the thought of megabases, there are ppl in HC who treats MC as a canvas, they genuinely enjoy building and if making megabases is their thing let em, no need to harp on that it has no function, yes it does it's their outlet and most importantly their art. If someone is building something big just to follow an imagined template in HC that's their misconception and if a viewer is complaining about this, there are hermits they can watch that has a different take, like Zed (have you seen the zedvancements?! amazing), Joe (tho he was building the massive pinball machine this season, it was a passion project for him), Etho, xB, Beef (his maps were mega xD, he loves doing it tho).

I remember Bdubs in s7 he was building his wonderful town and Grian told him it wasn't a megabase so he built his mountain and massive castle (btw is this why ppl thinking HC is about megabases?) Bdubs never appears to burnout when he's building. His solo series "Building with Bdubs" he's even challenging himself to build massive... my point is, there are ppl who geniunely likes building and ppl thumbing their nose at it are hurting the builders of HC.

Grian is the most prominent one who has megabase burnout, he always enjoy building when they are novel or is tied with lore. Grumbot, his bottle under the ocean, his stores, treesa, Cherry Tree in a pot, etc. Maybe stick with that (these are mostly relatively smaller builds).

The burnout comes from self-inflicted "rules" like megabases and what "content" will make the viewers engaged. Content is something they have to deal with because it's their job... they just need to do content that they enjoy. I'm pretty sure the hermits are brainstorming in their meetings. They will come up with something good.

AND I see this a lot too on reddit, ppl who are asking "Isn't HC vanilla?" passive-aggressively pointing at DO2's doors, cards, keys etc. now if you made Tango do those too in map form or have him make more farms for unique items for the treasure/shards, imagine the restocking... Tango would definitely burnout especially with how much those doors/custom items made him happy. He has done A LOOOOT for season 9. It irks me when ppl question if they are vanilla.

Let the hermits have their custom item models for their hats/elytra/weapons it adds something to their content and those simple things invigorates them and we enjoy their silliness with it.

*cue Bdubs gasping* "but we're vanilla!" when they requested for rain/snow to be shut off when they were ice racing.

[blackjackkent]

Fic request, BG3: Karlach/fem Tav, where Tav has died. After the reserection scroll is used, Karlach goes to pieces. Hurt/comfort.

Eyyyy, ty for the prompt! Sorry this took me a little while to turn around. :D Was fun to write, though; I do love me some Karlach romance and some hurt/comfort. <3 I hope you like!

-----

“You hear that?” Tav asks. The half-elf’s eyes narrow, glinting in the pale light of the moonlantern that is all that protects them from the cursed shadows. “Hold on a sec.”

Karlach halts obediently with the others and listens intently. Her head tips slowly to one side like a dog pricking up its ears, and her eyes drift half-closed in focus. But there's nothing. 

The shadow-cursed lands are, in fact, eerily quiet. The place is not only devoid of civilization but life - there's no sound of birdsong, no creatures creeping through underbrush, no leaves or plants of any kind. There's not even a stirring of breeze to knock together the dried branches of the long-dead trees. 

Karlach hates it. It reminds her too fucking much of the desolation of the Hells, dead and dry and full of dangers. Not nearly as hot as Avernus, she'll say that much for it, and dark as the inside of her boot. But still a little too close for comfort. 

“Don't hear anything, Soldier,” she says in a low voice. Astarion and Shadowheart both shake their heads as well. Then Karlach grins, an automatic reaction to the brief moment of tension. “Must've been my heart pounding, eh?” 

Astarion rolls his eyes. “Ugh. Gods,” he murmurs tauntingly. “Is that what passes for smooth in Zariel's army?”

Tav grins. “Shut up, Astarion,” she says, giving him a casual punch in the shoulder. 

“I'm just saying,” Astarion quips, “if we're going to have to watch the two of you give each other cow eyes every day of the week, you're going to have to come up with some better material.”

Karlach sticks her tongue out at him. “No one asked you, Fangs,” she shoots back. But she's laughing. It's really hard not to laugh these days, in spite of all the terrible shit happening to them. Astarion can mock all he wants - but she's in love, real love, for the first time in ten years. The first time maybe ever, truth told, because she can't remember any quick fuck back in the Gate that ever made her feel like Tav does. 

Tav is… gentle. Kind. When she touches Karlach it feels like the whole world is opening up to her, a feeling of hope like everything is gonna be okay. So yeah, Astarion can laugh all he wants, if it makes him feel better. Karlach really couldn't give less of a shit. 

She's happy. 

Too happy, as it turns out, because she's so lost in thinking these thoughts and watching the way Tav's smile looks in the lanternlight that she doesn't notice the first arrow coming in. 

-----

Tav’s scream is like a knife. Blood spatters across the dark ground as the arrow punctures her shoulder. 

A lithe, pale figure darts out of the shadows with a high-pitched giggle and throws something around Tav’s neck. Then in an instant she’s gone, vanished with the creature into thin air.

“Tav!” Karlach starts to shout - but it's choked off as another garrote bites sharply under her jaw and she's yanked backwards into the dark. 

It’s a horrific battle, one of the worst they’ve faced since the nautiloid. The meazels - little shits, every one of them - are quick and cunning, separating the party out into the searing darkness, silencing spells, bleeding them dry. Karlach doesn’t need spells, though, and her usual battle-rage is bolstered by a stunning degree of pain and an entirely unexpected violent panic. 

She wrenches her axe from the corpse of the meazel that grabbed her and tears off through the dark. Unheeding of both the blood pouring from her neck and the necrotic energy chewing into her skin, uncaring of what other enemies might hear her, she bellows at the top of her lungs. “Tav! TAV!”

“She’s here!” That’s Shadowheart, her voice weak. “Karlach, over here!”

Karlach almost trips, so quickly does she change direction towards the cleric’s call. Like a rothe maddened with fear, she leaves the path and crashes directly through the desiccated underbrush, dead plants shattering apart around her with every step.

Tav is dead when she gets there. 

Shadowheart is crouched over her, a useless healing spell in the process of drifting off her fingers. Astarion, blood dripping from his lips, crawls from the darkness opposite her. But Karlach’s eyes are locked on the form of Tav’s body in the dim light from her torch, the eyes blank and staring, the garrote wound flowing freely.

“Oh, no,” she whispers. “No, no, no, no--”

“It’s all right.” Shadowheart’s voice feels oddly far away. “I have a scroll, I’ll revive her-- Karlach, for gods’ sake, breathe!”

She is breathing - too fast, too shallow. The cut at her own throat throbs with each pulse of her heart. She drops the axe with a clang onto the ground and she falls on her knees at Tav’s side, grabbing the smaller woman’s hand and holding it between both of hers. “No, darling, no…” she mumbles. “Gods, don’t-- don’t look at me like that…”

How many dead people has she seen in her life? Could fill a library writing all their names down… But none of them have been her… those blank eyes are so wrong in her face which is always so full of life and humor and warmth… nothing like Karlach’s inferno heat but warmth and safety and home…

“Bring her back…” she rasps out desperately. “Please…”

The magic of the revivify scroll swirls around them as Shadowheart murmurs the words. There’s an achingly long pause during which Karlach finds herself reviewing every single moment of their brief time together and passing through every stage of grief in order; she’s just about reached “depression” when Tav’s eyes flicker open.

“K-Karlach?” she whispers, and then her body spasms around a sudden fit of coughing as she gasps for breath. 

“Oh, gods.” Karlach’s whole body sags with a relief as overwhelming as the grief was. Without thinking, she reaches out and pulls Tav up and into her arms, tight against the heat of her chest. “Oh, fuck… Soldier… Tav… shit…”

The words tumble out, one after the other, and she’s startled to realize that each of them is a sob, raggedly dragging out of her throat between hiccuped, jerky breaths. She’s alive. It’s not over. It’s not over. Oh, thank the gods…

“Hey. Ow. Hey…” Tav mumbles. It’s muffled from how Karlach has her pulled close; her face is sort of squished into Karlach’s shoulder. “It’s all right. Darling, it’s all right, but I can’t breathe.”

“Oh. Right.” She forces herself to loosen her embrace enough for Tav to draw her head back. “You-- sorry. Fuck. You scared me. I thought… I thought…” She can’t say it out loud. The words don’t come out.

“You’re hurt.” Tav gently touches the garotte wound in Karlach’s neck, wiping at the blood there.

“You died!” Karlach says with a sudden, hysterical laugh, flinching backwards. “Don’t worry about me! Just… you just sit there and… and breathe, or whatever, and… oh gods…” The tears blind her.

“Karlach…” Tav sits up in her lap. She’s unsteady, of course, because revivification is a brutal process at the best of times, but her eyes are clear. That hideous blankness is gone from them and they’re full again with the light that drew Karlach to her first. “Shhh.” She cups Karlach’s face gently with both hands and kisses her. “It’s all right… I promise. I’m here. All limbs attached, everything accounted for. And heart very much beating.”

Karlach gives her a watery smile, tries and fails to quiet her choked breathing into something manageable. “I just-- I saw you there… like that… and I suddenly realized… how much shit has gone wrong in my life… how it all changes so fast… but you’ve been good… you’ve been so fucking good, Tav…”

“I’m here. I’m here…” Tav presses her forehead to Karlach’s and draws a slow, shaky breath. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I promise…”

Slowly Karlach begins to settle again, feeling the gentle brush of Tav’s breath on her lips. It’s not over. “You’d better not,” she mumbles.

She realizes suddenly that they’re alone. Shadowheart has taken one of the torches and bodily dragged Astarion off some distance away, leaving them more or less in private. Karlach’s grateful for that; she’s not sure she could handle Astarion’s acerbic wit right at this moment.

“Fuck,” she whispers after a short pause, a little more calmly now. “Sorry, I--”

“Hey. Don’t you ever apologize for anything,” Tav says softly. “Least of all for loving me. You don’t get to say sorry for that.” She kisses Karlach again gently. “You ready to get Shadowheart to clean up that cut?”

“I… yeah. Yeah.” But it takes her a moment to loosen her arms and let Tav out of her embrace. “I do love you,” she says quietly. “So much. And I just got scared as shit about it.”

Tav smiles. “Best kind of scared I know,” she says.