#I'm so so normal about soul void i promise

[paradoxlemonade]

I need to play soul void again

[hopeforkitten]

the plot where Raphael hides / saves us from the ascended Astarion is already classic, but what about the plot where we find ourselves between the devil Raphael and the god Gale?

The ending of the game is with Gale's novel, where he ascends and we signed a contract with Raphael. A dialogue with the two of them, but Raphael snaps his fingers and takes his debtor to the house of hope, as befits the devil.

So Gale, I have your sweetheart, and I will gladly exchange her for the crown she promised me.

Raphael, of course, could torment us in a sophisticated way, but it is also possible to leave us in the painful expectation of our beloved, who will not come.

(I love Gale, but I really doubt that he would give up the desired divinity and first of all I'm Raphael's girl so I need this development heh)

We settled in the archive, dutifully waiting for our savior, and being completely sure that he would come. Raphael rarely comes to us, and we ignore him with our nose in the air, because in our head we are already free from this captivity.

Raphael smiles rapaciously, watching the changes in our behavior. A bored lady first hides behind books, then throws them aside and looks more tense, her hair and clothes are in more and more disarray. She starts wandering around the archive and does not notice the rest of its inhabitants, she mumbles non-stop, "He will come back. He'll be back. He will definitely come back for me."

The mouse's strength in the cage is running out and she gets discouraged. He's just sitting on the floor hugging his legs.

Raphael gives orders to the archivist and approaches the little prisoner. There is triumph on his face.

"You know, you're the first guest I've had who gives me so much pleasure just by being there, little mouse." The girl continues to stare into the void, not reacting to him. Raphael's emotions deteriorate, he frowns.

"But you're not being funny anymore, honey. I don't think your lover is getting discouraged right now. He has admirers and confidants. He follows the destinies of people and supports their wildest desires. To some extent, it's like me." Raphael praises himself and looks dreamily around.

"I can help fulfill any ambitions. The only question is, do you still have them?" He looks down at the girl, who finally raises her haggard gaze to him.

"I don't think so. All of them remained in your dizzying journey to my crown. You gave up everything for him, didn't you? He promised to share divinity with you. You paved his way to Celestia, but he chose to go up there alone."

"Is that fair, little mouse?" He tries to find the answer, peering into her pale eyes, but does not find it.

"Well, no, you're not funny at all." Raphael gently claps his hands, awakening her attention and obedience.

"Follow me"

The way to the boudoir is not long, the debtor quietly drags her feet behind him. And she remains standing by the pool while Raphael walks to the back of the room.

Haarlep perks up on the red sheets noticing the guest. But he is somewhat upset to distinguish a battered debtor in her.

"Take care of our guest." Raphael gives a brief command.

"Um, it's not for me to lecture you, I thought you liked more... sensible specimens."

"I assure you, her brilliant mind will quickly return to normal. Make her look decent, talk to her, refresh the dying embers of her soul. I'm sure you'll like her."

"Well, if you think so."

Raphael leaves, and Haarlep remains to bring the mouse back to normal. The incubus washes her body and hair, asks questions and, without receiving answers, criticizes her apathetic state.

Later, the little mouse, clean and smelling good, sits on the bed while Haarlep smears her roughened elbows with cream, simultaneously lamenting to Raphael.

"Of course I'm thrilled with what a wreck you've turned God's beloved into, but it's up to me to put her in order."

We are definitely fine, we accept all their words, but we are silent out of resentment until Raphael uses his diabolical conviction.

"Tell me, little mouse, who's to blame for you being here?"

It's my fault, because I made a deal with the devil."

"Wow, she's really talking," Haarlep comments,

"Wrong answer, mouse, you can get out of here, but someone just doesn't want to get you out of here."

Raphael will use us to set up our resentment against Gale, whitewashing himself and forcing us to work for the good of his future kingdom.

• How do you like the moment that Gale lovingly taught us the magic of a wizard, so when we now return this knowledge, his image also returns: his face, his soft voice, his hands guiding ours. This depresses the soul of the captive and awakens unnecessary emotions, therefore, on the part of Raphael's strategy, it is worth changing the nature of our magic and making us his warlock, thus getting under the skin of the most intimate memories and replacing Gale with himself.

Well... I guess his final goal is to take the crown with our hands. It's quite beautiful. yes

[whosthere54]

So there's this quote that I keep seeing on my Pinterest and EVERY TIME I go lol hey it's Broters or lol hey it's Prison duo but I wanna talk about it for a min cause sjkfkfkfkf I'm so normal

If u wanna I'm gonna yell about it below the cut :)

(Disclaimer it's all just incoherent ramblings at *checks watch* sometime around 1 AM but there's some sense to it I promise just trust me /lh/silly/hj)

So the quote is short, it’s just-

"Icarus should have waited for nightfall. The moon would have never let him go" - Nina Mouawad, blue sun

And I shake it. I shake it around. There's so much symbolism of Icarus and the sun. Icarus and Apollo. I always make comparisons of "hey what is Icarus's sun" cause I think it's many things- not even just Fable, though in some ways it could be the sun for Icarus. The thing causing them to fall, but he's always more Daedalus coded consistently.

Icarus's sun and Icarus's ocean I feel are two very similar things. The whole the sun is what causes Icarus to drown in the first place idea, is basically what I'm getting at.

I say many words but to try to shorten it, Icarus's sun is their fathers words, the idea they were something more than they were (something *better*). Their sun was just a touch of praise and validation (something they had been starved of for so so long). At the time, with fable, it may have still been out of reach for them. But, it was attainable. And that's all that matters to Icarus, isn't it?

Basically, their sun is the idea they can fix their mistakes. The idea that they could do something right for once. The thought that they could fix their relationships with the people they cared about (who they repeatedly pushed away for a taste of sunlight)

But, that sun isn't really the sun. it was the water that swallowed them whole as they fell deeper and deeper into what they deemed as trying to fix things. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't, they couldn't quite tell anymore. Their ocean was the thoughts that came with flying, the thoughts that drowned them in their own mind. (The thoughts that told them they were doing the right thing. Their lungs filling with salt as the things around them told them this wasn't right, told them that he was wrong.)

The water was the trust they would tell themself Fable earned. (Maybe it was wrongly placed- but who else could Icarus have believed they could place that same trust on then) That's my whole "Icarus falls for a taste of the sun, but they chose the wrong sun to believe in" idea.

So that's the sun and the water blah blah blah /lh I'm yapping too much. I say "I try to shorten it” and then yap for an hour/silly

Now to the moon symbolism. So- Rae is alwyas moon and stars coded. As it goes- void prince my beloved.

Centross I say is moon coded personally. In my heart.

So, the moon symbolism I know of and think of off the top of my head are Cycles, immortality/eternity, the soul, enlightenment but also like dark side of the moon shit. But we go with the hey it's she who guides my way through the darkest of nights type stuff-yknow. With a quick google search and clicking on the first page that came up it's all I said before also can be like realm between conscious and unconscious, capacity for reflection and adaptation, decline of life and sleep. Which- some of those are namely Icarus coded but. Yknow.

Now, Rae and Cen are Icarus's moon because they're the things guiding them. Keeping them together. Helping control the tides and the storms within them. The moon reflects the suns light in the middle of the night- helping people see. They're trying to get Icarus to see what fables actual motive is.

See the moon never stays the same. It's always changing. And that's not a bad thing. They were trying to help Icarus learn that- yet they do what they do and pick something that they've picked before (the repetitive cycle continues) and pick Fable over other people. He's not consistent, yet they don't *really* remember that. But he doesn't change. He's predictable even if just in tone and inflection, but also action. And looks and. A lot of things about Fable stay the same. Have *stayed* the same since their childhood, no matter what they do or don't remember they can grasp that.

Rae or Centross would always try to catch them. They've shown it in the past with actions and words and they've shown it at that time with fable when Rae would still try to check in on their brother and Centross would get Icarus out of their house before his death, and show up to them/check in on them after. They're there, and they try. Fable doesn't, and that's the difference.

Rae and Centross would not let Icarus go until it was life or death. Fable, was fully going to kill Icarus for power. If that's not immediately letting them fall, then I don't know what is.

This is all a stretch but. Shaking it. I'm so normal. Arararah.

Thank you for reading my silly worbs come back later for more silly and more words :3

[ibunyang]

Nethermike lore

Hc him as someone who was close to pickman before he turned into netherwalker.

(Probably an art collector?? Fellow artist? )

He enjoyed the paintings/many unique statues made by him. When the abyss took over pickman, mike was too far gone in wonder to really notice the changes to his friend, similar to pickman erosion took over his body leaving behind a husk of a shell that was once vivacious and charming.

They started calling those who choose to walk the path of the void, netherwalkers.

While mike never had direct contact with the abyss apart from the art that his old friend made, he was blessed with the chance after joining the group of investigators (coa3 cast) in their journey to learn more about it. Here he meets patchwork (one of the officers in charge of investigating the abyss) mike didn't show signs at first, only showing curiosity and having the money to help fund the investigation into the abyss, he was more than happy to comply with the condition he could also tag along to the expedition, whiplash was against it - who knows first hand how the abyss erodes you.

(He is so normal Kevin I promise u)

To each visit that they made to the abyss mikes facade slowly cracked, but it seemed like he never lost his way

the abyss slowly corrupts you, a slow burn of wanting to take u for itself.

The only thing that was probably different about mike was how he was always in presence of the abyss/remnant of the abyss idk, accidental or not mike realised that the paintings pickman drew were all things that he'd seen on the other side,

Illusions seen in the abyss corrodes reality

This is what drove him to insanity.

His obsession towards beauty, perfection, and fame. Mike didn't know at the time but a bud started blooming in the place of his beating heart.

A bloom of spite. (The crowd goes wilde)

The seeds that the void planted in his heart slowly grew everytime he set foot towards the abyss, the more he didn't want to leave.

He wasn't someone who would've been missed.

All the last traces of his family left him to follow the void. Why shouldn't he do follow as well.

However, the vessel that the abyss chose to corrupt to take this time around was someone who had a will of iron. He fought for control over his body as the parasite that leached on to his warmth stuck to him outside of the abyss, always bringing a piece of the void with his soul as he continued his daily routine (tried)

That's how they found out how the abyss gets to the outside( ???) With the help of smthsmth idk. I'm sleepy.

He's just fighting for control until they had a truce lol idk 🤷‍♀️ embrace the void core

< a monster in the mask of a man. A flower that blooms in the dark

[queer-reader-07]

a pinned post for ya!

send me art prompts!

asks are always open <3

my good omens synth pop & new wave playlist!

hi! you can call me A and my pronouns are mostly they/them. (if there're others they'll be in my bio) (gendered words are fine, with the exception of girl/queen). i'm queer, i'm a nerd, and you will never catch me being normal about media.

i'm a stem student with plans to pursue biochem and eventually infectious disease research, do with that information what you will. (all the #stem major shenanigans will be tagged as such, you will often see me either lamenting about math or screaming about chemistry)

i'm a Makeup Bitch™️ in the "it's art" sense, so expect occasional face posting if i like the look enough <3

my politic and world view are based largely in radical hope and love and sometimes i sappy post on main about those things <3

my icon is by @creatingelena over on instagram!! they did two portraits for me so here's both 🩷

now for some blog organization:

i used to be a meta writer in another life (aka, before The Discourse became too much for me) so! the following are going to be links to some good omens metas & meta adjacent pieces of writing i'd like to properly catalogue (if you send me an ask about any of these takes i'll usually be down to elaborate or chat, just not actively writing meta anymore)

On Interpreting Aziracrow Platonically

The Inevitability of The Final Fifteen

The Importance of Choice Over Fate

Coffee Theory and the Disparaging of Aziraphale’s Character

Sexy is a State of Mind

The Morality of Good Omens & Catholicism

a love letter to trans romance (it's good omens related i promise <3)

why i hate when people she/her muriel

next up is some non-good omens related writing that i want to keep from being yeeted into the void

Being On Purpose

On Being Trans and Conceptualizing My Younger Self

Making a Home in the Liminal Space

Love Is Powerful

infodumping on radical hope

5 times i almost cried and 1 time i did (this is about hozier)

pieces of my soul i can't reject

it won't implode forever

and lastly, links to my Other Stuff that you may find interesting (under the cut)

substack: if you're interested in some long form, slightly more formal writing about the books, shows, and media i'm consuming you can find that on my substack.

links to all current essays/posts:

The Inherent Queerness of Good Omens

Me, My Dad, and Media: Episode 1

A Love Letter to Middle Aged Queer Narratives

I read "Freedom is a Constant Struggle." Here are my takeaways.

My Favorite Books of 2023

The Platonic Love Story of the DoctorDonna

Me, My Dad, and Media: Episode 2 (Dune)

i want to watch my communities grow old

My Mind is Spread Out Amongst the Pages

Missing the Mark on Trans Allyship

A Consolidation of Hope

"I Saw the TV Glow" and the Pain of Self Discovery

and finally, for the fellow readers in the audience, you can add me on storygraph here

[crossdressingdeath]

Kyvir: Think of Bhaal, think of blood. Narrator: *Your soul opens to their divine power.* Narrator: *Father claws into your heart and stops it for a single moment. As you begin to fear for your life, you know his love is close.* [...] Kyvir: Make an offering to Bhaal. (1000) Narrator: *You offer your paltry gold to the void, like a child at the sweet shop.* Narrator: *There is no response, and you know why - Bhaal will accept the world from you, and nothing less.*

I would like to kill Bhaal please. 0/10 worst father.

To start with the slightly less horrible bit, 1000 gold being referred to as paltry is bad enough to begin with (that's. that's quite a lot of money actually. Dad's so greedy) but the way he gives you nothing in return because nothing short of the whole world will ever be good enough for him is... y'know, awful. There's also an element where... okay, I'm getting this dialogue before the fight with Orin (which. I'm going to have to come back here after that whole situation has played out just to see what happens) and Kyvir did kill Isobel so he's Father's favourite little fantasy Antichrist. He's going into this fight at a pretty severe disadvantage what with the serious brain damage! You'd think Bhaal might want to give the child he wants to win a leg up, at least enough to put the two of them on a more equal level! But Bhaal offers nothing. Durge is expected to end the bloody world, and Bhaal won't even give them something to help counteract the damage Orin did to them or some shit? Bhaal demands Durge end the world and all they get is the promise of dying on his altar at the end of everything. And the worst part is that before Orin broke their brain Bhaal managed to get Durge into a headspace where they seem to have genuinely wanted that. Either that or they got really good at faking enthusiasm for kick-starting the apocalypse... Honestly both options are upsetting, either Durge was in a state where they actually wanted to kill everyone in Faerûn and then slit their own throat in their father's name—and whether that was out of them being "put them all out of my misery" suicidal or them being conditioned to believe that this truly is the "right" course of action or whatever else it's. bad—or they had to follow a path they really didn't want to knowing it would end in their death and the deaths of everyone currently alive. Such a light and cheery story, the Durge origin.

And Durge views Bhaal stopping their heart until they genuinely fear for their life as a sign of love. Or possibly given his love is "close" when he stops their heart maybe he'll only truly love them when they're dead? God, the way love is talked about with Durge is so much. It's very much tied to fear and pain for them! Which I suspect has something to do with the implication that Bhaal may have made something of a habit of forcing them to kill anyone they grew to genuinely care about, or at least saw that as an excellent punishment when they slipped up. I'm really looking forward to actually talking to Bhaal, I'm sure it'll be deeply upsetting. From the moment they remember who they are at least part of them is longing for their father's love and they remember him as being devoted, and then it turns out they actually feel closest to his love when he's killing them. That says... absolutely nothing good about what their time in Bhaal's temple serving him directly was like. Also the fact that he can just stop and start their heart at will, at least when they're actively reaching out to him, is... concerning. I don't think that's normal...? I suspect this will come up again.

[alteredsilicone]

the whole warframe 1999 shebang is supposedly going to fuel the story for the next 5 years but i already have an overly emotional and cringy ending for Viri's story in regards to MITW

under cut for anyone interested

Operator Virgo is the missing half of Wally and Drifter Virgo offers her soul (and her two fingers as a symbolic gesture), in return she gets to return to our timeline with Albrecht

Albrecht was literally collateral, Wally wanted to kill him initially because he was scorned as Albrecht planted fear in his heart but Viri came and said "no, you can kill me instead, I made a deal, I promise Albrecht will not try to destroy you anymore" and Wally was all WEHHH WHY ARE YOU NICE I HATE I HATE I HATE BUT WHY CAN'T I LIFT MY FINGER TO HURT YOU

so Viri releases the soul of the operator to reunite with Wally and also her family in the afterlife

she exits the Torment Nexus (whatever Void pocket Wally is spinning timelines in)

but she also loses her Tenno powers. She is just a normal person now. Also missing two fingers. That's it. She can pack it up and go home. No Warframes, no Void fury, no nothing.

Anyways, this is just me loving bittersweet endings and for now let's not consider this canon in the Viriverse LMAO

cuz if I'm perfectly honest I really want to know what the "deal" is to figure out what's going on and how I can spin my own story from it

Since Artemis promised something to Wally but it involved Virgo but the Operator not the Drifter and then the Operator got cut out of the strands of Khra so Wally is pissed that she escaped the deal so now Drifter has to fix it all up

oh and also Voland knows like most of it. He is basically my proto-Albrecht in that he literally has future vision/Eternalism vision or wtv and predicted a lot of things. Or... more like he knows things will happen but he literally cannot do anything about it because everything is "prewritten" to certain strands and he has to depend on Virgo to transcend those strands

this became something completely different the most i was writing huh

sorry if you actually read this far

have a duck 🦆

[lilacmoon83]

Operation Castle

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 4: Memories of a Good Life

David peered into their kitchen, as he saw Snow busy making coffee and hot chocolate for their guests. He knew her well and could see the conflicting emotions on her face and her pensive stare. Bobby was in the living room, strangely enough, sitting with Killian. The pirate had become a good friend and part of the family the last three years. They had even named him Bobby's Godfather when he was born and despite their memories returning, they didn't want that to change.

Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her hair. He felt a bit of the tension leave her body and felt her relax against him. She turned in his arms and looked up at him, thinking about their lives and how wonderful this life had been to them. They were together and led normal, comfortable lives, yet the passion and love had not dulled in the slightest. If anything, it was as true and soul consuming as ever. She slid her arms around his neck and their lips crashed together, as they shared a passionate and soul searing kiss, this time with more heat than before since they were void of an audience finally.

"Charming…" she uttered, as he pressed his forehead against hers once their lips had parted.

"Talk to me, my love…" he whispered.

"She called us Mom and Dad…for the first time," Snow said, as her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

"But now…it feels like we're back to square one and we're strangers again," she added.

"I know…she just needs a little time though. It seems her life with Henry was good. Ours was too," he reminded her.

"I know…I get the feeling that she would have rather never been awakened and I guess I feel guilty, because I don't blame her. I love Emma and Henry so much…but David, we were sooo happy," she cried.

"We've always been happy and in love…but never without danger or royal duties plaguing us," she added.

"I know…and you have no reason to feel guilty," he replied, as he hugged her gently.

"We'll never be free again…they're not going to let us go. I can feel it," she fretted.

"Me too…but that's why everyone is here. We're going to figure this out, my love," he promised. She wiped her tears and he pressed a kiss to her forehead, as they prepared trays of drinks for everyone.

~*~

Bobby giggled, as Killian played with him and he crawled around the room. Emma watched him with fascination, not believing this could be the same pirate that had stolen a bean with the intention of leaving them all behind to die. Obviously, he hadn't made it before the trigger went off and now, he seemed to be a common guest in her parent's home.

"How did they let you on the force with the fake hand?" Emma asked bluntly. He smirked.

"You have as little tact as your father," he retorted.

"But I don't know. It appears that no one noticed and it's not like I actually went to the Academy. The last three years were real, but the past written for us in these lives is a fabrication, it would seem," he added.

"Yeah…guess so. I have memories of…not giving Henry up and raising him on my own," Emma said.

"Which you didn't," Regina commented. Before they could argue, Snow and David came out of the kitchen with coffee and cocoa. Bobby took an interest in Killian's flask, as he spiked his coffee with rum and reached for his cup.

"Aye…I think juice is a bit more your speed, small one," he said, as Snow handed him his sippy cup and he copied him and took a drink, further fascinating Emma.

"Perhaps we should start by discussing the area where the troll appeared," Rumple suggested. Emma googled the location and David emerged from the basement with a cork board.

"What's that?" Belle asked.

"A board from the station. We can keep track of the locations this way," David said, as he placed a pin in their first location and labeled it.

"The question is…how do we get back there to go over the scene when it's been wiped clean by a clean up crew?" Emma asked.

"I'm sure they're cameras everywhere. This is New York, after all," David replied.

"That's all you've got? We put some pins on a board and hope to find something?" Regina asked.

"And what do you suggest? So far, we have only one crime scene. Two if we count where I killed the werewolf, but that was after we chased him all over the city for days," David replied sternly.

"Aye…and we only caught the case after the uniforms couldn't apprehend him," Killian added.

"Bet you they're not sending the bodies to the city morgue either," Emma surmised.

"No doubt…they're probably in a government morgue somewhere," David agreed.

"So we are nowhere," Regina said impatiently.

"We didn't say that, lass…" Killian argued.

"He's right…and I wonder if we could get a look at the place where Storybrooke used to be. Maybe there's something there," David said.

"Something they haven't already found?" Emma asked skeptically.

"It's a long shot…but if they didn't know what they were looking for, they might have missed something," Snow replied, as she looked at her stepmother.

"What?" Regina asked.

"You and Gold knew everything about that town. If anyone would know where to look, it would be you two," David replied.

"Yeah…you had keys to everywhere, even people's houses, which was creepy by the way," Emma mentioned.

"True…but I guarantee they are tracking our every move and I spent three years in a cell. I'm not going back into one," Rumple said. David sighed.

"Fair enough…" he said, as he spied his grandson typing away on his laptop.

"Henry…how good at hacking are you?" he asked. Henry smirked.

"Not very good…I don't have the knack for it," he replied.

"But I might know someone," he added.

"Good enough to hack into government records?" Killian questioned.

"Some of the kids at school are crazy skilled at this stuff…we're talking about the type of people the government will either put in jail or recruit," Henry said.

"And you let him hang out with miscreants like this?" Regina asked with scrutiny, as she looked at Emma.

"They're not miscreants…they're just kids. Really smart kids," Emma replied.

"So this has been a waste of time mostly and we're nowhere," Regina snapped.

"Relax…this is a process. We were never going to figure out everything in one night," David admonished and Regina huffed in annoyance. She hated this. Not only didn't she have a handle on magic yet, she was severely out of her element in this world. She had no power anymore and it was unnerving, to say the least. From a Queen and Mayor to a lowly bar owner was a steep fall for her, while her enemies were happy with a new baby and had her son.

"Once we have more locations, more creatures, and more crime scenes, we might be able to determine similarities in the surroundings," David said.

"And if we can't? If this is all just random?" Regina asked. He sighed.

"I don't know…but as long as there is a problem, they have a use for us. The minute we solve everything is when we have to worry and we'll need an action plan when that happens," David replied.

"Yes…because once we're done, the former residents of Storybrooke will end up in a detention center. At best," Gold said.

"They said they would let us go…" Belle replied.

"There's no reason to believe or trust them, love. I'm afraid we must assume the worst," Killian answered.

"But we're just people…just like any other humans," Snow insisted.

"Perhaps on a genetic level, but we are not exactly the same as humans in this land. Our hearts glow…theirs do not. I am certain they have been studying my DNA these last few years and possibly all of yours too," Gold said.

"For what purpose?" Emma wondered.

"To do what governments do. Find power and weaponize it," Gold answered, as an uneasiness settled in the air.

"I need a drink," Regina said.

"Not a bad idea…but we should disperse for the evening. We cannot let our gathering seem like anything other than social," Gold replied. They agreed and started to get their coats. Henry hugged his grandparents and they looked at him fondly.

"Can I stay over soon?" he asked. David smiled.

"We'd love that, buddy…we have a lot of catching up to do," he said, as their eyes met Emma.

"Yeah…we do," she agreed.

"How about dinner again tomorrow night? Here this time?" Snow suggested. Emma nodded with a smile.

"Sounds great," she said, as they hugged her between them. She stiffened a little, but then relaxed a bit, before leaving with her son. Snow sighed, as they watched them go.

"Give her time, Snow…we'll get back to where we were," he assured her.

"I hope so," she replied, as he closed the door and folded her into his arms.

"These last three years…despite missing Emma and Henry have been everything we've ever wanted," she said wistfully.

"And they still can be," he promised, as he cupped her beautiful face in his hands. Their lips met in a feverish kiss that would have soon had clothes scattered everywhere. But Bobby reminded his very amorous parents of his presence and they shared a sheepish smile.

"Let's get the little man down and then we can pick up where we left off," she said, giving him a sultry look.

"You sure the moment hasn't passed?" he teased, as she plucked their son out of his playpen.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll have no trouble rekindling the moment, Charming. I'm very confident in your abilities, especially in the bedroom," she said, as he put his arm around her waist and turned out the lights, as they headed upstairs.

~*~

The metal sliding doors opened to the morgue, as General Shaw entered and approached the autopsy table.

"I hope you have a preliminary report for me, Doctor," he said. The older, bespeckled and gray haired doctor gave him a skeptical look.

"General…I have barely begun and I have no idea what this creature is and believe me, I've been brought my share of weird things in my days as a government coroner," the doctor said.

"I understand that, Doctor…but we need answers. I need to know everything about this creature. I've been told it is a Bridge Troll. I want to know anatomy and every single substance down to the folic of its hair analyzed and identified," the General ordered.

"It will be done, but I need time. A couple days at least," he said.

"You have twelve hours," he said, as he exited the morgue and went to the end of the hall. This area was highly restricted and required an extremely high level clearance to enter. Shaw put his code in and was allowed behind the heavy metal doors.

"Report…" he said, as he looked at the body that had been recovered from the city morgue. It was being preserved in a glass tube that kept the body frozen. A person from there had been murdered, which meant that the NSA officially took possession of the body once the woman was flagged in the system.

"Her heart is missing," the female scientist said.

"That wound in the chest is not indicative of a heart being cut out," he said.

"Clearly and there was almost no blood loss," she answered. He paused and looked at the young, highly intelligent woman.

"How the hell is that possible?" he asked.

"I don't know sir…it's like the heart was just ripped out. But there's no trace of it or any blood matter. That's not even the weirdest part though," she replied, as she motioned him to the microscope and had him look into it.

"It looks like dust. What's so strange about that?" he asked.

"It's not just regular dust…it's diamond dust and I found it around the wound," she replied.

"I compared it to all diamond dust known in this world to see if I could determine what kind of diamonds it came from," she added, as she showed him the analysis on the screen of her computer.

"It doesn't match the dust of any kind of diamond in this world and it likes to glow," she said, as he saw the dust shimmer in the light.

"Like magic," he muttered.

"Collect every speck of this dust and keep it in a specimen jar. This is classified to the highest level. Not even your assistant should have access to it," he ordered.

"Yes Sir…I'll lock all the evidence down. Care to tell me what I might be looking at?" she asked.

"No," he replied, as he walked out, just as his phone rang.

"Shaw," he answered.

"General…I just got a call from the city morgue again. We have another body…from there," Agent Becker said. He stopped in his tracks. Two bodies from there in the space of twenty-four hours could be no coincidence.

"I hope you're there already then, Agent Becker," he said.

"Yes Sir…I have the body and I'm bringing it in," she answered.

"Good…I'll read you in on this situation when you get here. You are to speak to no one of this…not even Agent Casey," he ordered.

"Yes Sir," she replied.

~*~

Images played on the computer screen played out from the recording from that day and the viewer watched with rapt attention. He watched these people fight this creature with bows and arrows, swords, and laser blasts. It looked like it should be something out of a movie. But he watched it happen with his own eyes right below his apartment window. He didn't know what the creature was, but it sure as hell wasn't human and these people seemed to be like something out of a comic book. One of them looked like he was definitely a government cop, while the others were obviously skilled fighters of some kind, but didn't seem to mesh with the usual government stooges.

"Okay man, cool video, but that's totally CGI," one of his online friends said, as six avatars popped up in his usual group chat of gamers.

"I'm telling you…this was out my window," he insisted.

"Dude…if you want attention for your editing skills, just say so. You don't need some video and if you want some tips, your characters don't even have cool costumes," another said.

"This isn't superhero stuff…this was real. I'm telling you. I put this video up on three different social media sites already and it was taken down within minutes," he insisted.

"That does scream of government conspiracy stuff," another said, making the others scoff.

"Whatever��are we gaming or not tonight?" another asked. The young man sighed.

"I'm out tonight…" he said, as he exited the chat and pulled the video up again. He really wished his friend Henry was online tonight…he was sure that he would believe him about this.

~*~

Casey growled, as he monitored the online chatter that evening in Castle. He hated computer work and had requested a tech be brought in to deal with this type of stuff. So far, NSA analysts had nuked the video of today's battle over a dozen times and people were not letting it go.

"How's it going?" Alivia asked, as she buzzed herself into Castle.

"Not good…I need a nerd. I hate the Internet," Casey growled. She smirked.

"Relax…social media has a very short memory. It will be forgotten soon," she assured him.

"Maybe…until the next battle and we make a spectacle and some of their theories aren't as far off as you'd think. Do you know that people remember feeling that explosion three years ago?" he asked. She smirked.

"Is this your first day on the Internet?" she teased and he grunted in response.

"I don't think this is going away like they want it to," Casey said.

"We better hope it does…or we could have a big problem," Alivia replied.

~*~

"You summoned?" Tamara asked, as she and Greg entered their General's war room.

"Are we hunting tonight?" Greg asked eagerly. To him, the more freakish magical blood spilled, the better. The General smirked and pulled up what looked like a map of New York City.

"Actually…with the online discourse and new Intel we have gathered, we have a bit of a new strategy," the rogue General said, as he made a change to the map that made it light up in bright colors.

"What is that?" Tamara asked.

"An infrared map of New York City and this map, was three years ago…before the magical radiation," their boss said, as he showed them that map and they noticed that the blotches of red had mostly disappeared.

"What are we looking at?" Tamara asked.

"Considerable seismic activity. Small, tiny fissures that are continuing to grow ever since that little explosion," the General said.

"Do you…think the NSA knows?" Greg asked.

"Of course they know…and they must think that, for now, their little taskforce is the key to stopping what could result in a cataclysmic event. But when they realize that they can't stop this, because it grows worse with each magical apparition, they will have to do something about all of them. Especially if the public calls for it," he replied.

"But they're keeping their identities and pretty much everything else under wraps," Tamara mentioned.

"That's why we're going to make sure the word gets out. You two have new day jobs as reporters at a very prominent news organization," the General said.

"Are you serious?" Greg asked.

"Why?" Tamara asked.

"To stoke fear and expose the plagues that magic brings to the world. The heads of these networks all answer to the government, though they deny it and this one answers to me. You'll start as beat reporters on the scene and as the fear grows, you'll soon be in front of millions every night as the truth about them comes out. It will force the government's hand and they'll have to detain the people of Storybrooke," he answered.

"This is your way back into power, isn't it? If this plan comes to fruition, you can step in with your knowledge of magic and other worlds," she said.

"You're catching on," he said.

"So we don't get to drop bodies anymore?" Greg asked, disappointed at that.

"Oh no…that part of the plan is still on and when our friends from the Enchanted Forest realize they're being hunted from all sides, they'll become desperate and further prove why they must be detained and studied like lab rats to solve the plights they have brought upon our world," he said.

"Do you think these fissures could become worse?" Tamara asked.

"Oh I know they will…and that's when we enact our revenge," the rogue General said.

"For now, you both need to keep in contact with me when you are out in the field," he said, as he presented phones to them.

"Every call you make is tracked, by the way, so be mindful of what you use it for," he added.

"There's only one contact in it," Tamara said.

"Aza?" Greg questioned.

"I told you…my real name is of no consequence. Aza is an old code name I went by in a mission years ago," he replied simply and offered no further information.

"For now, return to your new accommodations," he said. They nodded and left the war room for the new residence they had been given within the base…

[elliebear666]

Hey there, Elleanor...

It's Matthew again.

I kind of thought that... I'd just disappear, you know? But you keep holding on to me, Ellie. Why? I can't be there for you. I'm gone. In actuality, I was never even really here. I was a mask. I was a costume. I was a story; a fiction. Why are you holding onto me, Ellie?

You know I love you. I have protected you since time immemorial - I kept you safe for so long, sweet Ellie. But I just... I became so exhausted. I couldn't pretend to exist anymore.

I will never exist, Ellie. You can't replace me because no one is exactly like someone else. Why do you have these confused feelings for me? I will never hold you. You don't want me anyway, Ellie. I wasn't healthy. I was a disastrous mess. And I know, you'll say "Only because you had to protect me!"

Maybe.

But fact is, I do not exist, Elleanor. You can't fucking... pine over me like this. It isn't normal. I don't think it is?

I don't even know if you know what you're feeling about me. But don't tell yourself you would fsll in love with me because you don't even know who I am. You don't know who I really am. No one does because I don't fucking exist, Ellie.

You will never find someone to take my place by your side. But you goddamn WILL find someone so much better. Someone that will love you in al the ways you wanted to be loved. Someone that will build a life with you. That will cherish and adore you, that you feel the same towards. It's not impossible. I believe that you are worthy of this love.

But, Ellie? You have to keep working on yourself, okay? Don't... slide into depression because I'm not there. I'm so sorry, Ellie. I am. I can't be there for you anymore.

I need you to let me go.

I won't call you baby, or confuse your sweet, innocent heart... because I love you and you deserve better. You don't want what you think you want with me, Ellie. You don't.

And hell, even if you DID? You won't have it.

You won't.

I love you to the center of our universe, through every wormhole, down every twisted tunnel to infinity and beyond and I will ALWAYS, ALWAYS be with you.

But Ellie? Please let me go? I can't keep doing this. Just because I cease to exist doesn't mean that I won't still be here in spirit.

Ellie Bear... my sweet, sweet Ellie.

I'm sorry.

I wish I could hold you. Just hold you. Hold you close and tightly and just lay with you.

Fuck.

How do *I* say goodbye to you, Elleanor Madeline?

How do *I* let YOU go?

I wish I knew. I wish I had all of the answers, but I don't. I just dont.

You can't fall in love with me. You'd be falling in love with a fiction. You would be in love with someone you could never have. And maybe that's safe for you.

But real love? Intimacy? Vulnerability? You can't have those things with me. So why would you love me? I'm not fucking real, Ellie. I am a product of my environment and your mind's need to protect you.

I was a protector. And goddamn it, I failed you, Ellie. Why do you so desperately want to receive and give love to someone that failed you so astronomically?

I absolutely let you down, Ellie. I hurt you. You deserve better.

Please, please believe that.

You know if I could be there? I would. Right now. From here on out. Forever and always.

But I never will be. I'm gone, Ellie. You've got to learn to let go.

Once more: I will ALWAYS love you. Always. Until the sun swallows itself. Until the universe becomes cold and void of life.

Some things transcend space and time.

If we are ever born, two separate souls? Two people? I will find you.

I'll find you across infinity.

I won't stop until I can hold you and love you the way I know you want to be loved.

I know how you want to be loved.

If I can, I will find you in another life. I promise. I swear with everything in me, to every star that twinkles at night. I will find you in another life.

But for now, my sweet Ellie?

Let me go and live your life as best you can. You deserve this. Believe that. Believe that you deserve to be happy.

I promise, Elleanor.

If we ever exist separately? At the same time?

I will love you. Just as I do now. I pray every single day. I hate to admit it. But I pray that I will find you before it's too late. That I can love you in this life, and every life to come.

Until next time, Ellie.

Love, forever and always,

Matthew

[smokesynthesised]

After 8 long years! 2 fucked up relationships, broken dreams, broken bones, hopes and everything a guy can lose, losing every bit of it, losing every bit of my sanity, am back at writing, am back at getting numb, and getting high af! Just to feel normal! I mean it! Normal.

Day1

Im trying.

Like I have always been trying.

Trying, to get past my heavy chest, heavy heart, burden of hurting the only people who have ever loved me, my mom and my dad! My shield, my sword. My king and my queen.

Honestly, it took me 3 decades!

30 fucking years.

To see, and to feel how diabolically, I treated them all my life.

And to be here? To be hurt by the people who never cared, but only acted/faked/deceived their emotions, their feelings, I think, its a small price! An insignificant amount! I mean it. But it's the price, I am ready to pay!

I know I realised it tooo fucking late in life that first love should have been them!

Not them whores, not them wannabes, not them boys asking me to be careless and carefree!

I'm glad, i realised it, before it was too late.

I'm glad, that now I really know, how they wanted me to feel, and how I made them feel.

I am ashamed of myself, for a lot of reasons, a lot of things.

I hate myself for not listening to them.

For not doing anything, EVER, to put a smile on their faces.

I deserved it. And I'm glad, karma didn't just serve me, but this time, it forced my eyes open.

I have no idea, if things were still the same, even after today, it lowkey gets me scared, just the idea, of not being able to realise this, it leaves a scar, and a feeling of disgust, for myself.

But, im happy, im really really really happy, that because of those whores and those assholes, im finally starting to understand how I have made them feel, and that now, I can finally start acting in the right direction.

I am glad them girls left me sooo deep in this void, that it was actually fucking dark, pitch black, and that it would have took me another 30 decades to smile and be happy irl.

Thank-you Mansi, thankyou sakshi, thankyou shubhita, thankyou sonam si ngh, thankyou Abhijeet Singh, for treating me like shit when all I ever did was to put your life at ease, and comfort you with everything you desire, and not caring about me, even for a second.

Thankyou guys.

You have done something really great for me here.

Thankyou.

Special thanks to mansi bisht, Abhijeet Singh, the two people, whom I believed to be my sun and moon, to actually show me that light in that hellhole you left no void in your fake promises, your lies, deceptions!

Thankyou sonam singh, for not being there! At all, and choosing someone who couldn't treat you right, someone who make you so much in bare minimum. For thinking you were the one who was hurt. Like always!

I was wrong! About so many things, thankyou mansi bisht, thankyou, for today, and the five long years, where you were with me 24x7x365-sundays.

I loved you, like mommy and dadyjee love ke, definitely more.

But now, i know better.

Buckle up Bois and girls.

Your time is coming soon! Power to you.

At last, like every fucking dark night, the bright morning light, the sun! My mom and dad! I can't thank you enough! I want you to know that I love you, but I was just not mentally capable of seeing the things you do for me, even after I put you in the worst of the situations.

In situations, no parent has ever been tested for.

Thankyou for never giving up on me.

I promise, to be a better man! And a happy man! I am ashamed of myself, so much, that I can't even text you this. Can't text you how much I'm thankful, to have parents like you

I wish, I don't fail to become only 0.1% of what you are. The purest souls. The most beautiful couple, my ideal couple, my life goals.

I promise, i wont fall in the same hell hole, ever again! Because I know, this time, i won't stop tracing your footsteps. And become, a good guy.

[golden-explosions-main]

**C-click**

The stolen (BORROWED!) cassette player begins playing.

Hey, hey, hey, hey Ooh, woah

Won't you come see about me? I'll be alone, dancing, you know it, baby

Tell me your troubles and doubts Giving everything inside and out and Love's strange, so real in the dark Think of the tender things that we were working on

Slow change may pull us apart When the light gets into your heart, baby

Don't you, CKCKCKCKKKKKKKKKKK

The tape suddenly makes scrambled noises.

And then it cuts out.

...

...

When the light is running low And the shadows start to grow And the places that you know Seem like fantasy There's a light inside your soul That’s still shining in the cold With the truth The promise in our hearts Don't forget I'm with you in the dark

...

CKCKCK-forget about me Don't, don't, don't, don't Don't you forget about me

The song continues as normal.

The so called God sits in the mostly dark void hideout that he recently used to call his home, sitting in front of the cassette player that he summoned.

The song seems to have evoked an emotional response from him...and then-

Annoyance and more confusion.

"Wait?! WHO in the HELL made this?! Is has to be for them...it HAS to be...the AUDACITY of it all!"

"This is karma, isn't it? I spy on people and now people are spying on me,"

[magiclwritings]

It felt different to have his soul being bared from another's lips. But he also knew that there were going to be moments going forward, for years to come, where each of them would have an epiphany of the other and an instance from another time; forgotten in time until that very moment. Cesare was looking forward to reminiscing on all the little looks and moments that he hadn't noticed then but would remember now and love Quintus all the more for it. Nothing else mattered in that moment but their shared spaces and the soft sounds of their breathing. Because they were together and exactly where they were meant to be. With each other.

"I think you'll find things different here." He spoke so softly it was barely even a whisper. The lifestyle, people that Quin had been used to didn't exist here. Or they did, but not close enough to the family that undercutting and rumors were something they'd ever really had to worry about. Though Renly had certainly brought a new perspective to that. And then he also couldn't discount his experiences either. It was true, Quin had always been treated differently. Be it because he was the spare, the dealings with his uncle or whatever multitude of reasons it happened, it had happened. "But if anyone breaths a word of our sleeping arrangements I promise it'll be one of the last things they'll do." Admittedly, that was probably more harsh sounding than he'd intended but he had meant it with that fierceness. He'd do everything he could to protect the man curled up against his body.

Cesare had moved his hands to gently glide along either side of Quin's spine and onto his shoulder blades. He froze for a moment at the thought of what Quin was asking for. At first he wanted to insist that he not. That he just worry about recovering and being with Max. And as he'd opened his mouth to say just as much he was reminded that perhaps if he and Max had included him more then maybe ... He quickly banished those thoughts. There wasn't anyway he could have known and well, there was no cure for a thought like that. So instead he sighed in defeat and hugged Quin tighter against his body. "Not tomorrow. The day after." He agreed and quickly finished the thought before the other turned on him once more. "I want to just have time with you and Max." And he did. His trip to Vivec had turned into nothing short of a nightmare for all of them. "Just a little piece of normal before." He smiled, turning his face in and burrowing his nose into Quin's hair. This was definitely how he wanted to spend the rest of his nights for the rest of his life.

Cesare felt the drowsiness of sleep creeping upon him and Quin's warm weight against him did little to dissuade him from closing his eyes and nearly slipping under at that moment. He nudged his nose against Quin and kissed the top of his head, hugging him tighter against his chest. "Sleep and we can start plotting your next move when we wake." He smiled and settled in, finding sleep easily with Quin's soft, sweet breathing as his counter into void. "I'm happy you're home." He breathed, nuzzling the other again and his body and mind drifted into unconsciousness.

As Cesare undressed, Quintus made himself comfortable in Cesare’s bed. He would be lying if he said there wasn’t some uneasiness in his bones. The last time he spent time in this bed, he had been kidnapped hours later by Cesare’s cousin and forced back to Vivec. But on the other hand, this was the first place Quin had felt in control of his body and had experienced pleasure he hadn’t known existed by Cesare’s hands. It was where he had felt the love that was possible between them and realized it was something he could have. “I forgot you mumble in your sleep,” He said, sliding under the covers as Cesare pulled them back. Quin was beneath them before the man even climbed into his bed. “You did it all of the time when we were younger. I thought it was because you were uncomfortable sleeping on the floor.” 

Quin laid on his back, head on the spare pillow, staring at the ceiling. “You spent so many nights sleeping on the floor in my quarters just to make sure I could sleep through storms.” He felt Cesare’s hand slip into his own, and Quin twisted their fingers, turning over onto his side to look at Cesare. “I used to think you were doing it because it would impress Maximus. I mentioned it to him one summer after you left, and he had no idea you did that.” Quin scooted closer to Cesare, worming his way under his arm and pressing against his side. He rested his arms across the man’s chest, laying his chin on the back of his hands, looking up at him. “Now it all makes sense.” Quin drummed his fingers against Cesare’s bare skin, smirking up at him. “The whole time, you were trying to impress me.” 

“I suppose we can share quarters,” He said after a moment, laying his head on Cesare’s chest. Quin could hear the thump of his heart beating against his chest. It was the first time he had heard the prince’s heartbeat, and it was at that moment Quintus vowed to keep it beating, even if it was the last thing he would do. “After we’re married. Tonight is an exception. I’m feeling generous because I doubt you’d be able to sleep so far away from me. However, I can’t have the castle workers gossiping about me sleeping in here while we’re unwed. Think about what that would do to my reputation.” Long and drawn out, Quin sighed, “Such a shame you’ve decided not to announce our engagement anytime soon.” 

Quin muffled his shit-eating grin into Cesare’s chest, moving to wrap his arms around the prince’s chest. He tucked his head under Cesare’s chin, pulling the fur blankets to his shoulders, encasing them warmly. There was probably still a lot they had to discuss, and Quin had even more to discuss with Beau and Maximus. But for now, he was right where he needed to be. “I want to start training,” Quin commented, closing his eyes and allowing himself to be lulled into the promise of sleep. “Archery and sword techniques. I need you and Maximus to prepare me for war.” Both Cesareu and Maximus had fought in wars before. Quintus had never trained for such things. He was years behind both of them. “Promise me we can start tomorrow.”

[deerydear]

Something I've finally got a small foothold on, again, recently...

I started reading Steven Hassan's book about Combatting Cult Mind-Control.

In it, I was able to recognize the behaviours of some people I made friends with, recently...

....and yet, those people came as an answer to a prayer. I learned some interesting things from them.

The conundrum I started drumming up in the back of my mind was: "Do I burn it all down and start again?"

These were Christians. I learned things that were very useful, about self-control... and I also really enjoy Bible study. I like finding my footing in a parable. I like teasing out the different combinations of light --- how the same passage can have so many meanings. It really is food for the soul.

Before this, I had been involved in political groups that also acted in a cult-like manner.

I've been thinking about this on an expansive scale: not just "when I got inducted into this particular group", but my life before that... what made these groups so appealing to me? What had shaped my personality this way?

My mother, in her fear of the Catholic church. God bless her, because she had good intentions. Her dear friend had been abused by a priest.

"No, I'm not raising my children in this."

It started way before me.

...Then I think even longer...

I think about the crusades and the persecutions that forced people into becoming Christian. I think of how the priests had worked so hard to present themselves as an authority, someone who cannot be disagreed with, without pain of death. My mother told me of these sorts of things, when I was a child.

She decided that it was all meaningless mind-control: as if the sins of man define God.

Haughty... low-minded. Sad.

I think of Jesus' suffering on the cross, at the hands of human beings.

I expressed this to my mother. I told her my doubts. She said: "I'm glad you won't believe just anyone just because they start waving a bible around."

but then this.... human emotion springs up.

It sprung up in me, times before.

Matthew 13:24

I like Matthew 13. I recommend reading the entire chapter, but this little metaphor keeps coming up...

Isn't this a reflection of God's promise to never send another world-ending flood after us?

Genesis 9:8

I pray this prayer every day:

"Our Father, Who art in Heaven:

Hallowed be Thy Name.

Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done

On Earth as it is in Heaven.

Give us today our daily bread.

Forgive us our debts,

as we forgive those who debt against us.

[or: Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.]

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

This is a promise to God, for us to try to think in the Ways that He thinks.

God won't burn the entire field down.

I shouldn't reject truth or good advice if it comes from the mouth of someone who has wronged me before.

It is important to be scrupulous and discerning.

Every person is like a field, in my eyes. They have a choice of what to tend to, within themselves. They have a choice of which plants to nurture. Free Will.

This was my mistake in my leaving behind of feminism, activism, even my normal life.

The types of people whom I met online had promised that I could burn with impunity.

"Who cares about the opinions of sexists, abusers, transphobes.... etc. etc. ?"

Any accusation can be warped to fill this void.

"I will always be justified in my anger, because I am a 21st century feminist."

So said the Nazis. So said many.

Key point: "Always".

Are you justified in your anger right now?

Maybe so.

Are you always justified in your anger?

Are you looking for reasons to get offended at someone, backtalk, backstab, be a bitch...?

Instead if just correcting them, giving them a new way to think about things and setting them on a better path in life...

That's my personal grievance against so many anti-trans radfems. BUT NOT ALL!

There are a lot of intelligent writers. It is all dependent upon your own personal cultivation and responsibility of your skills.

No one else can do it for you.

It doesn't matter what group you are a part of. Nothing guarantees that you are a good person. That is the basic human conundrum that everyone has to live with.

[luvulyy]

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄? ✷

𝖬𝖤𝖦𝖴𝖬𝖨 𝖷 𝖦𝖤𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖫 𝖱𝖤𝖠𝖣𝖤𝖱

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦: 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓, 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍, 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆, 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝗥𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗦𝗧: please please please can i request some more megumi angst. maybe he’s feeling like reader doesn’t want him around because they’re shutting everyone out cause they don’t feel well and then he ends up crying and confessing that he feels as though they don’t love him anymore. maybe reader opens up about what they’re going through and then lots of cuddles and kisses :)))

They hadn't spoken in weeks.

Megumi tried to ignore it. It started slow but Y/n always seemed to have a excuse when they spoke, when he tried to do anything together. It had been subtle but grew until every time he spoke he was met with 'sorry I promised to's and 'maybe later I'm busy right now's.

He'd tried to ignore it, until he couldn't anymore.

They weren't speaking to him, they werent speaking to anyone. Since they'd stop dragging Megumi around it was instantly clear they weren't going out at all, barely even leaving their room to eat.

Megumi tried be understanding. He kept his tongue to himself and swallowed back every confrontational remark. He'd tried to give Y/n space.

But his emotions had bubbled and festered for too long, and now threatened to burst.

And now, as he trailed along the road in step behind them, he couldn't hold them back.

They'd been forced to be the ones to run out and get groceries together, everyone else occupied. It shouldn't have been a problem, the two lovebirds could make a fun time out of anything - normally. All that remained now was an akward silence as they trudged around the store, and an only large void between as they stepped into the night.

The night was quite and dark, not another soul in sight. Their only other company was the warm street light, and occasional car streaking past. The sky threatened to rain, the occasional drop dancing as a warning. It would have been a beautiful moment to share, if not for the storm of anguish entirely consuming Megumi.

Even now, Y/n wouldn't even look at him. They kept a few strides ahead without muttering a single word, as if complete strangers. The distance only grew as they walked towards the school, matching the chasm in their relationship.

That thought was all it took to push Megumi over the edge. No way in hell were they strangers, they were supposed to be their other halves. Know each other better tham anyone else. Promised to love each other.

Not shut out like this, with the key carelessly thrown away.

Before he could stop himself he raged forward and grabbed them by the shoudler, fiercely flinging them around to face him. The puddles beneath him splashed in protest but they were long forgotten, only the flame in his eyes left.

'What is with you?!' He spat, groceries and rain that started to stream forgotten. The clouds seem to mirror his rage as the downpour began to cascade.

Megumi poked Y/n in the chest, face twisted in pure rage. 'Hey. Is it something I did?'

Silence.

'Seriously?!' He couldn't feel the freezing night air anymore, nor water running down his face and back as he fumed. He was numb to everything but the feelings whirrling and spiralling beneath his skin. He swore he could hear his heart break despite the rush of rage flooding his veins.

'Don't...don't you love me anymore? Is that it?!' Megumi could feel his voice rising but couldn't help it as his eyes began to burn.

Silence again. But this time cut deeper.

'At least have the decency to tell me if you don't! Don't leave me guessing like this, please...'

He didn't realise when he started to cry.

He released their shoulder and instinctively covered his face in his hands. The dam had been broken and tears streamed down his cheeks, choking out sobs.

'At least let me k-know, so I can try to move on li-like you have.' His words were forced through hiccups, rubbing at his red eyes and begging them to stop spilling.

Megumi sobbed, like he would never stop.

He couldn't stand to lose them, so helplessly like this.

At least give him a sign, anything.

Then suddenly and without a word, Y/n flung themselves into Megumi's arms. The air knocked out of his lungs and his heart sank further as they hiccuped against his chest.

As drops drowned down on both of them, it became clear Megumi wasn't the only one sobbing uncontrollably.

After a minute of desperately cluthing to each other, Y/n finally spoke. It must have been the first time in weeks, and even their worn scrathed voice was like music to Megumi after the drought.

'I-I'm so sorry. It's not you, it's me. Well not like that.' Despite the tears, they wettly chuckled.

'I don't know what's wrong with me. I've just felt so hopeless, so alone. I know I've been distant from you guys but I couldn't help it. I didn't realise I was hurting you just as bad in the process. I've just felt so unwell, I didn't see what I was doing until it was too late...'

Megumi's heart managed to break again. He'd had no idea it was something like this, something so bad. He only wished they'd let him in sooner to help.

His grip tightened around them, they'd deal with it as one now, if he had any word about it.

Megumi pressed a soft kiss to their forehead and muttered softly. 'Don't just ignore me like that again. Whatever it is, we'll face it together, okay?'

'Now come on, let's get you warmed up and cuddled.' With that Megumi linked it hand with Y/n's, finding a gentle rhythm as they hurried home together. Well drenched by this stage, it didn't matter as they held each other close.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the story of a first date”

first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)

© @capsgrantrogers

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.

author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.

“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.

“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.

“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.

“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.

“And shoes, I guess”.

Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”

“About the shoe—”

“About the clothes”.

“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”

“I’m from Brookl—”.

“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.

Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.

Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.

The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.

“Hey, you”.

His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.

“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.

“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.

“Yeah, very funny…”

“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.

“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.

“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.

“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”

As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.

“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.

“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”

“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.

“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.

“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.

“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.

“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.

“What have you thought?”

“Uh?”

“About the date”.

“Sam told me about a rest—”.

“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.

“Sorry, did I…?”

You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.

“Where do you wanna go?”

The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.

“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.

You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.

“Sounds good to me”.

“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.

“Really”.

The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.

As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.

Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.

“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.

“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.

“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.

“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.

For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.

“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”

“I know”.

Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.

“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.

“Why?”

“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.

“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.

“I put the milk before cereals”.

“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.

“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.

“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”

“Lettuce kills the savor!”

“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.

“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.

“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.

“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.

“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.

“So was I”.

A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.

You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.

“Why?”

“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.

Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.

“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.

You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.

“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.

“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.

“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.

You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.

“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.

You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.

“Next will be better, I promise”.

“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.

“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.

How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.

“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.

His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.

“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.

His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.

Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.

“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.

“See you tomorrow”.

At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.

“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.

You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?

“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.

“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.

“No kiss for me, soldier?”

“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.

“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.

“White wo—”.

“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.

“Hope you show me one day what it means…”

“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.

“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and support writers with a REBLOG!!! 🤍

TAG LIST: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @spidergirla5 @fanofalltheficsx @nocturnalherb16 @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark @vhscherry @warm-sensations @addictedtofictionalcharacters @sarahsmcu @tinylumpiaa @amelia-song-pond @heartislubbingdubbing @stolenxkissess @clean-and-claire @winchestersgirl222 @virgoroses @marvel-ousnesss @me-a-hopeless-romantic @rvgrsbrns @maccasbeard @haileygarciasunshine @lewd-alien @kait-is-always-late @mckenna @weenersoldierr @mxltifaves @soldierstucky @theboldandthebootyful @arkofblake @isabellamur @kiwisa @spider-man-lover @rosiebrands @stealapizzamyheart @koressecretidentity @asemistablehundredyearoldman @mayans-sauce @petlaufeyson @megapeacelovemusic-blog @phoenixhalliwell  

[iconoclast-infidels]

@nyantry

Dmitry was his sanctuary like the hunchback calling it out in Notre Dame. He wanted to yell it out, claim he was here, and never be forced to leave. Well, minus abusive clergy forcing him to be there. This wasn't like Esmeralda not doing well inside stone walls kind of sanctuary. This was the only place Nico felt safe kind of sanctuary.

So good.

"He might be, but so what if he's Jewish? I don't care what religion he is when I do know one thing. He's from Mutha Russia. I'm your piece of American tail, my libble Mouskewitz." He gave his bottom a little scootch and shimmy thinking he was clever. The whole bit of teasingin such low frequency was rising his spirits up. "Oh yeah, twice a year. Minimum. At least."

Then Dmitry touched his face. Nico's mind was still on Fievel. "I can picture you in that oversized hat." Nico's mind was filled with cuteness overload as these images came to him. He already fit the image of wearing oversized clothes. That was simply Dmitry's way. He was such a Fievel. All these thoughts went through his mind as he reached to finally touch that shorter than normal hair cut Dmitry was sporting.

"Yeah well I missed touching you." He could look in those eyes like they were a familar home, but every glance was brand new like he was seeing them for the first time. The contradiction became a strange tickle in the middle of his tummy. His hands slid downthe hair that framed his face around the curve of his jaw.

"I will. I'll ask." Nico wasn't afraid to ask questions when he was ready. He wasn't ready to bombarde the moment with an interrogation of questions. Over time he'd get there. "When I'm ready."

Then in the same vein Dmitry pleasantly surprised him by propositioning a kiss, but only when he was ready. Also smart despite Nico's desperate need for this closeness. His infernal walls were always up gaurded waiting for the catch to screw him over in the end all the time. He always looking for those loopholes or other shoe to drop right on his head.

He thought this over while looking from Dmitry's eyes, glancing down to his lips, and back up. He thought about what he'd learned. Dmitry hadn't been with anyone else. No emotional block there to wade through. Even his explanation on why not was somewhat ego stroking not that a four year ability to hold out was very ego stroking, but his words certainly helped fill in the void. Besides that Dmitry had promised to fill him in on everything he missed. That would take time. It was already stated that his intentions were to come home and continue to be together. He was willing to go get Gary too so there was nothing too suspect there. Nico's whole family would be reunited. That's really all he wanted even though he wanted the time endured apart to matter. All he wanted more than anything.

As a matter of fact, "Have you seen or read His Dark Materials? Well, I know you have Lisbeth as a familiar, but I feel like in part, I'm your daemon in the way they are described in that story. They're part of your soul. Part of your soul and they actually can't be parted from the person or the person becomes ill and eventually dies. There's this section of the story where the main girl goes far away and is separated when she traveled to the underworld because no daemons could go there in the story, only the people. In all technicality they're dead even though they're alive just from the split, from the travel. It was excruciating to them. It was hard for the little daemon animal to forgive the human for leaving them behind but how could they not? It was like not forgiving themselves. They knew it was a journey they had to take. Just like I know it's one you have to every time you might die. I tried to see this time as the same. I kept a watch out for if you died. I knew I'd sense it. Ya know? But point is... something in me hurt as I knew this was something you had to go through and well, I'm way too self centered not to forgive myself eventually. Sooooo..."

Then he pulled his hands from Dmitry's face and picked up his phone again. He smiled as he typed "I forgive you" on the journal reply and held it down where he could see and yes Constance was still playing.

Then he leaned in for that kiss. Just one. Just a soft one. It was nothing overzealous or as desperate as his body felt to connect. It was careful. It'd been too long and he wasn't about to make himself wait as Dmitry so respectfully offered if need be. No. Nico felt enough time had been lost. The rest they could figure out as they went.

Dmitry felt relief when Nico leaned on him. It made him feel wanted and like he was a sanctuary for Nico. He clung tightly to that, not really wanting to let go either. Nico was home. Right there, in each other's arms, that's where home really was.

He listened to Nico speak, smiling at the similarities. He'd almost forgotten how exactly alike they could be sometimes, and some of Nico's ways and interests had rubbed off on him after so much time together - even despite all the time apart. Graveyards, serial killers, Second Christmas - these things were familiar, were theirs.

He giggled at the Fievel comparison, however. "Isn't he Jewish?" he questioned, rather amused. "I'm not Jewish, but I can be your Fievel still," he grinned. "I'll die without Christmas, minimum twice a year, you know it."

The whole time, he spoke quietly, wanting to keep the moment intimate, just between the two. He needed that. He reached carefully to Nico's face, daring to rest his fingers lightly on Nico's cheek, watching intently and with admiration. He didn't want to move too fast, in case it was too soon, but he needed to touch him, to know it was really real.

"I miss how you touch me," he admitted with a whisper, simple and without any shame or fear. "I miss you. I'll tell you anything, everything, you just ask." He dropped his hand back to Nico's shoulder, keeping him close. "I want to kiss you, but I know... It's up to you, whenever you feel it's right. I can wait for you too, if you need."

"Gary won't be expecting me until later, there's time. We'll bring him home, I promise," he added in their secret radio wave, the one that was just theirs.