#and there was like. no timeline for any of this shit. no real job description for this position they created for me that they could give me

[gobbluthbutagirl]

i don’t know if this is going to be a positive thing to hear or what but i am obsessed with your worlds worst target odyssey and i hope you continue sharing its all insane and incredible. have a good day and stuff

well see the thing is i quit like 4 months ago. so there’s not really anything new to share and there won’t be until i move back to california and pay that beast a visit to see if it’s still standing. but it’s all tagged with “#my job wrapped” if you’re feeling so inclined to take a horrible journey

[verai-marcel]

Rough and Tumble (BG3 Fanfic, Astarion x GN!Reader / Halsin x GN!Reader, 18+)

Of course. Of course it was bound to happen. Me? Write smut for a new fandom? You knew I couldn't stay away.

Summary: You thought Astarion had rejected you, so you went elsewhere for pleasure. Turns out, you just hadn’t piqued his interest yet.

Author’s Notes: Have I beaten the game? No, when I wrote this fic, I was barely in the middle of Act 2. Am I romancing either Astarion or Halsin in my save file? Nope, I went for Gale. Am I making shit up about these characters just because I want to get railed by both? Fuck yes, absolutely. Buckle in for some wild, made-up characterization, all because I want to write super horny fanfic. (And because certain people have bullied me into writing this…) For the timeline, this takes place during the tiefling party in Act I, but forget the real timeline of character romances and just play along. Also, if you’re not familiar with my writing, I try to be as vague as possible about reader description in my gender neutral fics so that anyone can enjoy them. However, I do have a size kink in this one, so imagine you’re a smaller hero this time around. 

Tags: gender neutral reader, halsin x reader, size kink, rough sex, doggy style, gentle dom, some after care, astarion x reader, humiliation, degradation, name calling, sloppy seconds, cock gagging

Word Count: 4,545

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

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“It’s not you, you understand, it’s me.” A pause. “I have standards.”

Having been shut down so brutally, you shrugged and walked away, unwilling to partake in any further conversation with the infuriatingly attractive vampire.

It’s not like you even said anything about sleeping with him. He just kept talking, like he does, as if he didn’t want to listen to you. You wondered why you had let him bite you the first time, and the second, and the third time. You cursed your weakness to his not-so-subtle glances. 

He’d look over at you, his lips twitching as if he was stopping himself from saying something. So you would ask if he was hungry. And he’d give you this look. ‘No no, I’m fine,’ he’d say, looking away and frowning, making it apparent that he was not fine. You, in your infinite dumbassery, would immediately cave in and offer up your neck. Was it your need to take care of anyone you took under your wing? Was it your stupid bleeding heart?

You knew your little motley crew only shared one thing in common: a need to get the tadpole out of your skulls. But if anything brought people together, it was facing a common obstacle.

Except that not everyone shared your need to do the greater good. You had been making a name for yourself as an honorable mercenary, taking only the jobs that aligned with your sense of morality. Not everyone liked that, especially with the number of assassins that had been sent after you. But that was before you were taken captive aboard the mind flayer ship. Wrong place, wrong time.

Nothing you could do about that now. Face forward and carry on, that has always been your way. There was no reason to change that.

You found yourself walking towards Halsin, standing tall on the outskirts of the camp. He was quietly enjoying himself, a mug in his large hand. He called out your name gently as you approached.

“You do not look as cheerful as I expected on a night like this,” he said, his eyes roving over your face. “What is the matter?”

You sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“It must be something if it is making you frown so.” He stepped closer and put a hand on your shoulder. “Come, let us walk for a bit. Nature will bring perspective.”

You followed him quietly away from camp, away from the crowd and into the forest. Soon, only the peaceful sound of the trees rustling in the wind and insects chirping into the night surrounded you, the party far away. Halsin’s hand wandered from your shoulder to your back, his thumb rubbing slow circles. It was a soothing feeling, and you leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, even if you didn’t need it on this balmy summer night.

“I don’t know what goes on in his head,” you blather suddenly. “I thought he was coming onto me, but then he wasn’t, and while I was trying to figure out what he wanted, he said I was below his standards…”

You hadn't realized that you had stopped walking until you felt Halsin’s touch on your temples, gently massaging your headache away.

“Sounds like he didn’t know what to do with a gift like you,” he said casually.

Your eyes darted up to meet his. You were surprised, but pleasantly so, by the veneration in his gaze. A slight shift, and he was closer to you than he had ever come, the heat from his body radiating like a warm campfire. Cozy and safe, you had a sudden urge to lay your head on his chest and cuddle up to the big druid.

His fingers slowly traced the curve of your ears. “If there is anything, anything at all, that I can do for you, I will gladly do so.”

I want you to crush me—

You shook your head. “I’m alright. I just needed… this.” Leaning your head against his chest, you took a deep breath. He smelled of the forest, of the earth, of nature itself. Your nose twitched. There was a hint of something more, something primal in his scent that stirred you.

Halsin called out your name again. You looked up, and he looked at you with concern this time.

“I’m alright,” you repeated. You thought back to what he said. “What do you mean, didn’t know what to do with me?”

He smiled. “Perhaps he is flustered. Internally, of course. Gods forbid he show it. So he pushed you away once he felt conflicted.”

“Conflicted about what?”

“About manipulating you, of course.”

You frowned.

Halsin touched the two most recent little scars on your neck. Astarion had a tendency to bite a different spot every time, to prevent permanent scarring, he had said.

“I’m not…” you trailed off. Yes, you knew he had manipulated you into letting him bite you the first and second time. The third time… part of you had wanted it too. That time, he had snuck into your bedroll, holding you from behind. You could feel his fangs skim across the skin of your shoulder before he bit into the soft flesh behind your clavicle. His hand was wrapped around your mouth, stifling your groan as he fed, and much to your shame, you had felt the beginning of pleasure warming your lower body. You broke away from him before he could finish, turning back to him to apologize. But he was already getting up, walking away without a single word. You had caught him giving you one last look, a regretful frown, and you had assumed that he lamented having his meal cut short.

“Alright, maybe he is a little manipulative," you conceded. "But I know that."

"And yet you keep giving into him," Halsin said, without any judgment. 

You hung your head. "Yes."

Halsin tipped your chin with two fingers until you were looking up at him. His smile was understanding and tender. "It's alright to care for someone and give into their needs, as long as you take care of your own as well."

You blinked. "But I want…" Trailing off, your cheeks warmed with embarrassment. Like it or not, you had been thrust into the role of the unwilling leader of this ragtag band. What you needed didn’t exactly align with what the team needed from you. What the others needed you to be was a commander, controlling the situation ahead of you.

But what you wanted, needed, was someone to command you, just for a little while, so you didn’t have to constantly think three steps ahead. You looked up at Halsin and felt a sense of trust. He was older, wiser, and most importantly, willing.

"Go on," he coaxed. 

Swallowing, you pushed down your fear and spoke your true desires. "I want to let someone else be in control, just for a little while. I want…" You paused, taking a deep breath, drawing in the courage to continue. "I need to be fucked. Not made love to, not a gentle roll in the sack. I need something… more."

Looking up, you saw a desirous glow in Halsin's gaze. He considered your vague request for a moment before giving you a soft smile. "Is this something you'd like me to do for you?" 

You thought of the large druid holding you down, his hands around your wrists beside your head as he fucked you from behind like a wild animal, growling into your ear. His voice rumbled through your body. Take all of me, little one. Give me your pleasure until it overwhelms your luscious body. 

You blinked and the mental image vanished, but not the desire. "Yes," you answered breathlessly. "Please."

Halsin gently stroked your cheek. “Of course.” He leaned in, nuzzling your temple with his nose. He softly whispered, “if I get too rough, say ‘honey wine’, and I’ll stop.” He pulled away to look you in the eyes. “Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you said.

He gave you one last tender smile before he straightened his stance and took a step back. “Good,” he said in his arch druid voice, powerful, commanding. “Now, strip for me.”

You swallowed and began to take off all of your clothes at a languid pace, letting him enjoy the moment as each article of clothing came off your body. He circled around you, a small smile on his lips as his eyes roved up and down your body.

As you finally stepped out of your underwear and kicked it aside, you felt strangely free. Anyone could walk up and find you two. Yet he was fully clothed, while you were naked to the elements.

And it felt good.

Halsin placed his fingers on your belly and walked around you, his touch leaving a warm trail along your skin. When he was behind you, he stopped. His hand splayed across your lower abdomen and pulled you close.

You gasped at the feeling of his bulge against your bare ass. His leather breeches rubbed against your skin. His chest, though covered in his druid clothes, was warm and comforting. And because he towered over you, he could easily kiss the top of your head.

Taking one of your hands with his free one, he brought your fingers to his lips and kissed them. 

“Show me how you pleasure yourself,” he said, letting go of your hand. He kept you tight against his chest.

With your hands, you began to touch yourself how you liked, teasing yourself at first before pleasuring yourself, harder and faster, until you were panting, your head lolling back against his shoulder. Your knees were beginning to wobble, and you grabbed his thigh for support. Gods, he was like a tree trunk, thick and solid. Your moans were growing louder, and you covered your own mouth in shame as you continued to touch yourself. Your hand was slick from your arousal, the wet sounds echoing around you. Just a little more…

“Stop.”

You whined, but did as he bade.

He suddenly let you go, and you nearly fell to your knees if not for him grabbing your arm and keeping you upright. You could hear him undoing the laces of his breeches.

Then you felt him rest his shaft against the curve of your ass. He pulled on your hand and wrapped it around him, smearing the slick from your palm.

“That’s it. Stroke me.” His voice had taken on a deeper timbre. The voice of command.

You did as he said, running your hand up and down his cock. It was hot, hard as iron, yet felt like velvet to the touch. And so girthy as well. You could not wait to take him inside of you.

So focused on pleasuring him, you barely noticed when he began to prepare you, one finger slicked up and sliding in and out of you. He added a second, and a third, all the while caressing your body with his other hand, his lips never far from your skin. You stroked him faster, gripped him harder, but he touched your wrist and slowed you down. 

“Patience, little one,” he murmured. “Don’t end this before we begin.”

You nodded. 

“Good.” He placed a hand on your back and gently bent you over. “Hands behind your back. Grip your forearms.”

You did so, and he grabbed your arms like the reins of a horse. He pulled his fingers from you, and you whimpered, but soon they were replaced by the tip of his cock.

Halsin grunted, and his hips shot forward, filling you full of him in one hard stroke.

Before you could scream, his hand was over your mouth. 

“You don’t want everyone knowing how well you submit, do you?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“Good. I’m going to let go of your mouth now. But stay quiet.” He gripped your arms with both hands now and began to move his hips. The first few strokes were slow and steady as he gauged how well you were opening up to his invasion. Then he sped up, dominating you with his strength, his hips slapping against your ass.

You couldn’t help yourself, you moaned and whimpered with each thrust.

“Can’t stay quiet, can you?” he gritted out, slowing his pistoning. Pulling out of you, he waved his hand and a soft bed of moss appeared on the ground. “On your hands and knees.”

As soon as you fell into position, he climbed over you, his chest against your back, one arm wrapped around your shoulder. He stuffed his cock inside of you once more with a deep growl, almost… bear-like?

You turned your head to look back at him.

His eyes were glowing a fiery yellow, a feral snarl on his face. 

“Halsin,” you whispered in awe, lust, tinged with a bit of fear.

He picked up on it immediately, the caring elf that he was. He took a breath, and the glow in his eyes began to fade.

“No, no!” you panicked, grabbing onto him and clutching at him like he was a life preserver in an icy cold ocean. You didn’t want him to go easy on you, didn’t want him to simmer down just because you were a little bit shocked. You wanted all of him, all that he could give. “Take me, please!”

The glow stopped fading. “Take you, little one?”

“Yes, please,” you begged. “Please.”

His only response was a low growl as his eyes glowed once more and his hips moved in a measured rhythm, his pace steadily increasing until you could barely draw a breath between each stroke.

“Such a good little lover,” he murmured. His lips caressed the shell of your ear as he rutted into you, the dichotomy of his soft moans to his hard thrusts making you lose yourself to this heavenly euphoria. The fevered trance of being fucked without having to think about anything at all was so freeing. You devolved into a mass of writhing and moaning, unable to control your volume any longer. The coil of desire within you was growing tighter, wound up with every thrust, every low, beastly grunt that Halsin gave.

You felt your hands and arms buckle, and you sank your chest into the soft moss beneath you, your ass still up in the air. The cool vegetation against your skin contrasted with the heat from the druid pounding into you from behind.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Finish what you started before.”

Gleefully you reached down and stroked yourself eagerly, your body tensing as the ecstasy built higher and higher. You clenched around Halsin’s thick cock, and he rumbled with satisfaction. He sped up, driving himself into your body with wild abandon.

Your climax ran through you like lightning. One moment, you were at the top of the mountain. The next, you were free falling, pleasure guiding your wings as you soared with rapture. You spasmed below the large man, crying out into his arm. He held you tighter as he fucked you through your orgasm until your knees gave way and you collapsed onto the ground.

You felt like a blissful ooze, boneless and relaxed, but Halsin was speeding up, his breath hitching, his moans becoming deeper, more… animalistic.

“Do you want my seed within you?” he asked in nearly a growl.

“Fuck yes,” you breathed, excited by the prospect. “Give me every last drop.”

He roared and pinned you to the ground, his hips jerking against your backside as he poured his essence into you. With one last push, he stayed inside of you for as long as he could, keeping part of his weight off you with one arm so he didn’t crush you. But the warmth, the comfort of his body felt so very nice. Like he was shielding you from the rest of the world for just this one moment, and you desperately needed it.

Halsin groaned, and he pulled away from you. Turning over, you looked to see him holding his arms, taking a deep breath.

“Halsin?”

“It’s alright. When my blood runs hot, my wildform… is harder to control.” He backed away. “I need to run around for a bit, until I’ve calmed down.” He looked up at you. “But I will wait until you are ready to return.”

You smiled. He was kind, thinking that you, an adventurer in your own right, savior of the grove, needed a guard. But it was sweet of him to be so considerate. “I’ll be alright.” You reached up and touched his arm. “Go, run wild. I’ll see you back in camp.”

You watched as Halsin transformed. No matter how many times you saw his bear form, it always took your breath away. The power, the pure might behind that fur. You had seen him tear goblins limb from limb with that power. But right now, he gently nuzzled your face before bounding away, his mighty roar echoing in the night. He exuded elation as he loped into the forest, and you couldn’t help but chuckle. It was cute.

Walking back to your pile of clothes, you leaned over to pick them up. Just as your hand gripped the fabric, you sensed something, or someone, in the trees. You let go of your clothes and grabbed a pebble nearby. With effortless speed, you flung the pebble into a nearby tree.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“Get down here, Astarion.”

The pale elf gracefully leapt down from the tree and casually sauntered towards you. The only thing giving away his nonchalant look was the fact that the front of his pants looked a bit stretched.

He gave you a withering look as his gaze wandered up and down your naked body. He paid particular attention to the trail of Halsin’s seed dripping down your thighs.

“I never took you to be so… docile,” he said, a sly smirk on his lips. “Who knew you had it in you.”

You crossed your arms. “Had what in me?”

“Well, another man’s seed, for one.” He chuckled at his own comment. “But I was more impressed by your… willingness… to submit.”

His eyes flashed with a beguiling look and he stepped closer. Standing your ground, you ignored the flush of heat in your nether region as you stared back at him defiantly, until he was face to face with you. Damn his height, forcing you to tilt your head up.

“You should have told me what you needed, darling,” he purred. “I would have indulged you… for a price.”

You glared at him.

“Come now, don’t be offended. You’ve already given yourself to me for free. It would be gauche of me not to return the favor.”

Blood. He wanted to feed. The small puncture marks on your neck pulsed. And so did lower parts of you. But your annoyance with him made its way to your mouth first.

“I thought you had standards, Astarion.”

“Oh, but I do. However, I don’t mind lowering them for a little fun.”

You seethed for a moment. “Did it occur to you that maybe you’re below my standards?”

His eyes widened a bit at your vicious banter. Then he smiled knowingly and your stomach dropped. You knew from his look that he had something on you. He leaned in until his lips were a mere breath away from yours. “You think I didn’t notice the scent of your arousal the last time I bit you?”

You swallowed. Shit, he knew.

His eyes glanced down at his last bite mark. “You’ve already proven yourself to be my little fang slut. Why don’t you become my whore as well? I’ll pay for my meal with your pleasure.”

You should have been offended. Insulted. Outraged.

However, your body, relaxed after having been thoroughly fucked, betrayed you in the worst way. You flushed with carnal heat, your eyes dilated, and your breath hitched. And Astarion picked up on every last iota of your reaction.

“Well, looks like your body is much more honest,” he said in a low voice. His eyes glanced down at your lips for a moment before meeting your gaze. His lips grazed yours, so light that you barely felt it.

“Kneel.” His command, in a voice so low that you felt it as a rumble from his lips to yours.

You obeyed immediately, your eyes remaining locked with his.

He patted your head condescendingly. “Good little pet,” he purred. With one hand, he deftly freed himself from his pants.

As you began to lean forward, he tutted at you. “Stay still.”

You froze.

He smirked, a little bit of fang showing as he placed his hand on your head and tilted it up slightly. “Give me your hand,” he commanded, holding out his.

You put your smaller hand in his, and he placed it at the base of his cock. It grew slightly from your touch.

“Open your mouth,” he said softly. When you did so, he guided your head to him until you had engulfed him.

“Now you may move,” he said magnanimously, and you began to pleasure him as best as you could with your limited knowledge. Your eyes went up to his for a moment before you closed them, savoring the feeling of him growing larger and harder in your mouth.

“Look at me.”

Your eyes shot open again and you looked up at him. He gazed at you fondly, similar to how one would look at a beloved pet.

Then he shoved his cock down your throat.

You gagged and tried to push away, but the hand holding your head in place would not budge. Your eyes watered and you began to choke a bit.

“Relax your throat, darling. Breathe through your nose.”

You did as he said, and began to feel a bit better, but it was still difficult, controlling your gag reflex. Soon he released you, and you coughed, bringing your hand to your throat.

“Not ready for that, I suppose,” he said as he caressed your head and looked down at you, appraising you with one long look. His eyes lingered between your legs and his nostrils flared. You turned your head away, knowing that he could smell how aroused you were, and felt a bit of shame well up in your chest.

He held his hand out to you, as if to help you stand. You didn’t question why he wanted you to do so, you just took his hand and stood, somewhat shakily.

Leisurely, he circled around you until he was behind you. His hand went up to your throat, gently stroking it up and down, slowly, a whisper of a caress punctuated by moments of pressure in your most vulnerable points. He stepped forward, his chest to your back, and took a deep breath at your neck. He let his lips linger on your skin where your blood, sped up by his touch, lay closest to the skin.

“I can feel your pulse against my lips,” he murmured against your neck. “For some reason, I keep coming back to you.” His other hand caressed your bare backside for a moment before you felt him nudging himself between your legs. He pushed slightly, spreading you open. Your body accepted him easily, as if it was waiting for him.

“My filthy little pet,” he teased. “Any normal being would be resting by now.” He slid further inside of you, making you gasp. “But you’re anything but normal, are you?”

You wanted to snap back at him, but then he gripped your hip, anchoring you in place as he pushed himself into you, all the way to the hilt. Your voice cracked, your comeback dying on your lips. You could only let out a wordless cry of surrender.

Astarion’s dark chuckle filled your ears. “Who would have guessed?” He pulled his hips back, leaving only the head inside, just to tease you. “The hero of the grove.”

He slammed back into you, chasing away your breath once more. “You’re just a deviant, aren’t you?” His words were punctuated by his thrusts, reducing you to nothing more than a quivering mess, slave to his touch. 

Your mind began to blank, and though the logical part of you screamed to keep your wits about you, another part of you screamed back: you were tired. You just wanted to be. And the pleasure he was giving you, despite his cruel words, or perhaps, because of them, was overwhelmingly good.

The grip on your throat tightened just a bit. Not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that he was in command. He could end you with one snap. You were foolish to let him have you in such a compromising position.

The light scrap of his fangs on your skin made you gasp, your heart rate skyrocketing. Instinctively, your body knew he was a predator, and you were his prey. His tongue flicked out to lick your pulse. He trapped your arms behind your back, his arm looped at your elbows, forcing you to arch your back.

“How will your blood taste, tinged with ecstasy, I wonder,” he mused, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard him. He gripped your jaw and forced you to look up at him, His eyes, scarlet like the blood moon and twice as hypnotizing, were dilated with need. 

“Come for me, pet.”

You had no choice. You simply did as he wanted, moving your hips shamelessly, sinking down on his cock over and over until you began to feel your climax spinning towards you.

Just as that blissful tide came rising up within you, a sharp pain came down on your neck. Your brain, addled with so many things, couldn’t handle it. The sting melted into the euphoria until you couldn’t tell one from the other. 

“Astarion!” you cried, whether to beg for mercy or to beg for more, you weren’t sure.

His hips slammed into you harder and you felt him empty himself inside of you, just as he moaned against your neck.

You felt yourself falling, and wondered if it was you, or the afterglow.

Slowly, too slowly, you realized it was your body, and you braced for impact.

But it never came.

With a surprising amount of strength, Astarion held you, carefully letting you sit down on the ground. He knelt down with you, and without thinking, you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

He froze for a moment before awkwardly patting your back.

That was… strangely not like him, you thought. Looking up at him, you were met with a curious expression on his face. 

“Astarion?”

He blinked, and the expression was gone, replaced by his usual rakish smirk. You felt a little sad that he had put his mask back on.

“Darling. We’ll have to try that again sometime,” he said, licking the corner of his lips to catch the last drop of your blood.

You cocked your head. “Was… was it that good?”

“I’m not sure,” he said mischievously. “I’ll need another…taste… to find out.”

You closed your eyes and smiled. You knew what he meant.

I’d like to do this again.

“Any time,” you replied.

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End Notes: Throughout my writing this, I ended up doing a tiny bit of research (and by research, I mean I looked up the sex scenes on pornhub), so I hope this was at least somewhat hot for some of you. Thanks for reading!

[miniscrew-anon]

Merry Whumpmas - Day 4 "Chills"

Okay now I'm really getting into the meat of Shadows backstory. Because of who he is as a person I fully believe he was a little shithead for his whole life. Not necessarily because he wanted to be but because that's what life handed him.

Trigger warnings for mentions of human trafficking

It was another special order. Delivered word of mouth, as usual. 

Tween, pale, male. Under four feet and 100 lbs. Dark hair, purple eyes. Park Twili. Unused, perfect condition.

Shadow mentally filters through his memories for someone to fit that description and comes up empty handed. He’ll have to go outside his usual search radius to find someone that specific. Twili aren’t common in Hyrule, and certainly not this far South. 

He clicks his tongue and strolls away from the meeting house, annoyed. It’s unlikely he’ll find someone that matches. So he can kiss that commission goodbye. Still, there are other jobs. Routing cops and spotting Sheika aren’t necessarily easy but it’ll tide him over, for a little while. 

Until another special order comes through. Those, he’s learned, are the real money makers. 

Young, teen, Brunette, blonde. Green eyes, blue eyes. Goron, Zora, Gerudo - Vaati liked to pride himself on customer satisfaction and filling orders to a T. No customer of Vaati’s ever had to settle for second rate wares. High quality, he liked to say, nothing worn or used. No diseases, no defects, no behavioral issues. A perfectly healthy stock. 

In other words - free range.

Vaati often uses his network of young eyes to find potential… merchandise. Their homes, patterns, and ideal pick up locations were all reported to higher ups and left to bagmen, who’d secure and ship out the goods. 

It was a much more risky business than the run of the mill trafficking that relied on easy prey. It meant fewer lost souls from the gutter that no one would miss and more from nice homes and happy families. But the value far outweighed the cost; Shadow isn't sure how much a single person is worth to Vaati’s clientele, but they must be willing to pay exorbitant fees to have their every demand met. 

Sometimes, when Shadow finds himself in a strange mood, he finds himself thinking about what might have happened to the poor bastards he reported on. What kind of life they were living, if they still were. It always made his spine tingle.

But he never lingers on it long. And why should he? It’s not like he’s really responsible for anything that happens. All he does is search out someone who fits the description and tell someone else about it. Not like he does any smashing or grabbing. He never laid a hand on anyone.

And besides, if it wasn’t Shadow doing it, it would be some other kid selling out someone for a handful of cash. This cog turns with or without him. No point in holding onto dumb ideas of morality when the alternative is starving in the streets, or falling in with some gang where he’d end up killing someone anyway. 

No, there wasn’t any point in trying to take the high road. Shadow knows from experience that that kind of shit is for TV - the real world isn’t going to change because someone decides to be a good person. It won’t make a difference anyway. There’s always going to be another asshole ready to step in and take his place, so why give up his spot? 

Better to be scum with a full belly and a roof than to be scum wasting away on the side of the road.

------

I don't think Shadow is an innocent at the end of the day. I think that just like Dark, he was kind of forced to take what was available to him and do what he needed to to survive. He's going to justify it any way he can, but deep down he knows what he's doing is fucked up. But fuck if he's going to acknowledge it.

Idk what the full timeline of events are but I'm going off the assumption that the Dragmire Empire has just been toppled about a year or two ago, Dark is currently in prison and the hold that Ganon had over Hyrules underbelly is basically dissolved. Vaati is just one of many smaller time guys who rose through the ranks and gained a shit ton of power. And his particular domain is the human trafficking going on in Hyrule.

[seokiloquy]

Game Cartridges - Kenma Kozume

Au: Regular/Gaming

Requested

Tags/Warnings:  GN! Reader, short and fluffy, Time Skip spoilers

Word Count: 2.1k+

"Lev, are you almost done?"

A deep raspy voice echoed into the gym, loud and authoritative, startling the volleyball players. Once all eyes turned your way, you laughed, letting your natural voice still the silent atmosphere. Your hand smacked the metal door as you hunched over, gasping for air between each series of laughs. 

Lev, who had just landed from a spike, opened his mouth in a loud cheer at the sight of your slumped form in the door. “(Y/N)!”

You straightened your spine, sighing as you watched Lev’s nose get caught on the mesh net as he tried to limbo under it. He looked like a pig for a moment, before the bottom of the net snapped and Lev ungracefully fell on his face.

“Ow.”

As he laid flatly on the gym floor, Kuroo —who you managed to identify based on Lev’s description (though you did expect a comical beak to be attached to his muzzle)— walked over, thumbs playing with the waistband of his shorts. Before he started to talk, you leaned over, looking behind him to see a partially blond boy dig the toe of his shoe into your tall friend’s side. Kozume Kenma.

The rooster in front of you started to speak. “You sure gave us all a shock. Thought you were a janitor coming to kick us out,” he chuckled, lifting a hand off his hip to scratch the back of his head.

“Ya sorry, Lev just finds that voice creepy so I use it every now and then to scare him.”

Kuroo sidestepped as his hand moved to gesture you inside. “So, you’re a voice actor?”

“That’s the plan at least.” You bowed and walked to the bench that was pressed against the wall, a small bag swinging over your shoulder. The old man, Nekomata, gave you a wrinkly grin as you sat next to him, watching your hands as you pulled out a DS from your small bag.

Kuroo smiled, snapping his head to the clock before looking over his teammates.“Nekomata, should we start cleaning up?”

The couch hummed thoughtfully, turning his attention away from you and onto the team captain. “We still have a half-hour before our practice is officially over. How about we do 3 vs 3, to, ah, 7 points?” He then turned his attention to Lev, who was rubbing his nose as he got to his feet. “Pair up evenly for the beginning, the odd player out will be keeping track of scores and rotate into the next team. Got it?”

Lev raised his hand. “Can you explain the rotation again?”

You looked up from your handheld console to give your friend a deadpan look. Nekomata laughed before answering, “The odd player will take out a player of the next team and so on to keep teams fresh. Got it?”

The Silver hair boy hummed, standing to his full height. “Got it.”

As players dispersed randomly, not selecting any teammates, in particular, to play with, you were vaguely aware of the new bodies that came to sit alongside you on the bench. Instead of looking up to whichever boy had chosen to take the spot next to you, you kept your head down as you played on your DS.

“Ah.” Quiet

“Um.” Again.

Sighing you turned your head on a swivel to the blond boy who sat next to you. His head was downcast but through the dyed strands, you could see his eyes flicker from his fidgeting fingers to the device in your hands. His eyes shot up to meet yours before quickly turning away.

You wore a kind smirk. “Need something?”

Kozume turned his head slowly, pointing to your small bag that was laid open, exposing the variety of games you owned. In a calm voice, “You have lots of games, why are you playing Nintendogs?”

You laughed looking back down at your small virtual pet. “Well, a lot of those I haven’t started yet, Lev gave them to me yesterday as a gift. And well, I’m only going to be waiting for about 30 minutes for you guys to finish before we leave, so I don’t really want to start something new.”

You heard the clicking of the plastic game cartridges as Kozume riffled through them. He pulled out one, a Pokemon game you had yet to touch. “Play this.”

“But my dogs.” 

“They aren’t real. Play this, it’s fun.”

Nekoma called for the teams to switch. Kozume stood up but waited for you to take the game out of his hand before he left for the court.

You sighed, pulling Nintendogs out of the DS and putting the Pokemon game in, Pearl, apparently. 

“Your name is (Y/N), right?”

“(L/N) (Y/N), ya.”

Kozume hummed, before stepping onto the court, letting a sweaty Lev fall into the spot he had previously occupied.

Another day, another practice and you were back to sitting next to Nekomata, waiting. Occasionally, you looked up from your DS to see the two setters toss a ball up for the players to hit, watching as the players ducked under the net to collect their balls. 

Once their final water break came around, Kozume, who had been eyeing your DS since you sat down, shuffled to sit beside you. “Ah, use the water attack.”

“Are you sure?” you asked, head tilting as you showed him your progress.

“Hmm, gym battles are mostly element-based, you want to use mostly water attacks for this one.”

Nodding, you clicked the option Kozume had so helpfully pointed out. “I know nothing about how to play this.” The battle ended, giving you a pretty badge, to which you realized there were more empty slots to fill. “Damn it.” You turned to see partially bleached blond chugging back his water. “Kozume, could you help me with the other gyms?”

“Kenma is fine. And I could, but you’d probably have to be here for that, you have to find the other gyms after all.”

The wince you wore caught his attention. Hissing you dropped your hands into your lap, still holding the sides of your plastic game. “I’m not sure how possible that would be. My luck is just running out isn’t it.” He kept watching, half-listening to Nekomata as he explained the cooldown drill before practice ended. You pulled out your little red flip phone from the side pocket of your back. “Put in your email. I’ll message you and give you my contact.”

Taking the device from your hand he quickly typed out his address before dropping it unceremoniously into your bag and running onto the court with his teammates. You smiled at the sight of his hair bouncing before your smile dropped and your head lowered to look back down at the game in your lap. The colours on the screen seemed a bit dimmer.

Where did the Pokemon go?

Kenma had quickly become your go-to Pokemon consultant. Always there in your time of need.

Which one?

He responded quickly, which helped.

Uh, one of the three ones? I was trying to catch it but it’s not there anymore. I tried dropping revival items and stuff but it’s not there.

(Y/N) did you kill it?

….Maybe?

Reload the game.

I’ve done that.

Did you save after you defeated it?

Messages with Kenma typically surrounded classes and videogames, more so the latter. With that though, came a sense of consistency with messages outside of active school hours and giving your mind a constant timeline to follow throughout the chaos that surrounded you.

Ya, I had to save my progress.

It took a minute for him to respond, but you could feel the sorrow radiating off him through the screen.

You’re going to need to restart the game if you want to continue.

Shit. Well then, got any other recommended games? Ideally RPGs.

Plenty.

After many practices with your presence sitting silently against the wall, Kenma was surprised when the end of practice came around, and you were nowhere in sight. Kenma pushed the rolling basket of volleyballs up next to Lev as they gathered up all the equipment.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” he asked, crouching down to pick up a stray ball.

Lev lowered his chin to see the setter clearly. He hummed, “Ah, I think it was called, New York?”

Kenma paused, dropping the volleyball into the basket with cold hands. “What?”

“They moved to the USA. I don’t think that they’re going to be there forever though. But Mr. (L/N) got a job there from what I remember. They were staying with my family before they moved.”

Kenma’s nose scrunched. “Why did I have to make friends with someone who was moving away? You’re terrible, Lev.” He gripped the blue fabric of the basket a bit tighter and began pushing it into the storage closet, grumbling.

“What did I do?”

After practice, Kenma quickly got to his phone, typing away as he walked home alongside Kuroo.

Your response, despite being in a different time zone, was quick.

IM SO SORRY I TOTALLY FORGOT!!! I just liked talking to you and it slipped my mind whenever you were around

Kenma sighed, washing away the anxious feeling in his chest. 

Another email came through.

I’m only going to be here for a couple years, then I’m going to come back. Messages may be slow because of time and all, but I’ll always respond.

You didn’t lie that day. You were always quick to send a message back, but over time those messages stopped coming and you didn’t have the heart to send anything in return.

You’d ponder on it occasionally, hoping that all it was, was forgetfulness, or a changed contact. But after a couple years, it was easier not to think about it, and go on with life and pursuing your passion.

“Stop spamming the chat guys, please,” Kenma grumbled, wincing at the repetitive notifications that rang in his ear. Turning to look at the live responses, he paused the stream of messages to read over a few. “You’ll stop once I start playing? Fine, fine. Let me get it booted up.”

As he pulled up the Japan-made open-world RPG that had been released for Beta earlier that week, the chat went into a flurry of excitement, with various images and repetitive cheers rolling by.

Kenma turned to face his main screen as The main intro to the game played with a flurry of colour. The chat increased in speed as the two-player options appeared on screen, ready to be selected. When his mouth moved over one of the characters they moved, reciting a line.

“Oh they’re voices are nice.”

The chat exploded again.

(Y/N)

(Y/N)’s voice is great!

They do both of the MCs voices

All the talent 

Selecting the male character, Kenma listened to the boyish tone, furrowing his boy as he caught sight of the name being repeated over and over again in the chat.

“(Y/N)? That sounds familiar, are they in an anime?”

The chat responded with a list. 

Tilting his head, Kenma pulled out his phone as the game began to load, talking out loud for the viewers of his stream.

“(Y/N). that sounds familiar.” He entered the search for the game’s voice cast. Immediately seeing a familiar portrait at the top of the list.

The chat quickly caught on to Kenma’s look of surprise and started spamming again.

“(Y/N)?! Ah! I know them! It’s been years!”

Ignoring the chat and fully loaded game for a moment, Kenma smiled at the image of an older you on his phone screen. Putting down his phone and sitting straighter, he looked at the camera that was focused on his face.

“Hmm, this makes me want to play Pokemon. Maybe later. Time to start this.”

I was going to write a full-length fic with this au but…. You know how it goes.

Short and fluffy cause I have to get back into the groove of writing after 2 months. Ahaha. I finished all of One Piece this week (when I wrote this), 966(now 971) episodes thus far and all the movies. Makes me want to write for it. Maybe If Kiwi watches it I will. 

….If I do, it’ll probably go on Ao3… but if you’re reading this and want me to…. Let me know… I’m tempted.

Kiwi. Watch One Piece so you can edit One Piece fanfiction that I’ll probably never write…. Unless. - Bacon

Maybeeee I can still edit without watching it thoughhhh. I’d edit whatever you’d me too - Kiwi

Unless!- Bacon

Posted: 25/04/2021

[melyaliz]

Remember Me 11

Master List

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Pairing: Bakugo Katsuki x OC

Notes: Been trying to get more writing in. Pushing myself to be creative again because I feel like this energy is getting pent up and needs to go somewhere.

All Masterlists @melyalizarchive​

Connect with me! AO3 / Instagram / Pinterest / Newsletter

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Check out my published work.

--------Olive---------

“Eliott the craziest thing happened to me today!” Her boyfriend looked up from his computer where he was editing photos he had taken the week prior. Flopped down on the couch dramatically down next to him, Olive kissed him quickly before continuing with the craziest thing ever.

“So you know how I was writing short stories online? Well, some dude asked me to ghostwrite for them.”

Eliott moved his laptop away so he could focus on Olive, “no way, that’s great! Wait, is he paying you?”

“Yeah, it’s not a ton but it’s a start.” Olive glanced down at her phone again reading over the person’s suggestions again, “Maybe I could make a little extra from this? Could be really fun to actually make money from my writing.”

“Yeah I mean if it makes you happy do it,” Eliott said, getting up from the couch walking toward their small kitchen where dinner was slowly simmering on the stove. “But also, come try this sauce I made.”

Getting up to follow her boyfriend Olive took the spoon he was  holding out, “Oh that’s good.” she hummed approvingly

“I know right?”

“I need to wife you up so you can cook like this all the time,” Olive said putting the spoon back in the pot.

“I will only say yes to a princess cut,” Eliott teased stirring the pot a few times before putting the lid back on. “Are you done getting story propositions? Want to watch a movie?”

“Let’s do a movie.”

“Roadhouse?”

“Pain don’t hurt”

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

“So the police had been keeping an eye on airlines out of Tokyo but for American passports but we haven’t found anyone who matches the description the robbers gave us” Kirishima sighed, rubbing his forehead as Bakugou growled and threw the reports on his assistant’s desk. His poor assistant quickly gathered up the paperwork putting it back in order. After working for Bakugou for this long she knew better than to leave any mess

“The police are useless! They can’t find one guy”

“I guess it could be possible this guy is erasing the memories of the people who see him.” Kirishima offered as Bakugou grabbed his gauntlets getting ready for patrol.

“He’s such a coward, just face me like a man!” Bakuogu snapped at no one in particular, feeling his hands growing more sweaty at his anger. The feeling of Olive sobbing on his chest from a week ago still so fresh in his memory. Luckily for him - and her - it was as if she had gotten it all out. Since that night she had started finding a routine. She had started writing again and yesterday he even caught her smiling at her screen laughing to herself over some crazy plot idea she was coming up with. The sight had been such a beautiful one Bakugou had been scared to move in case he broke the spell.

That morning after Bakugou had made breakfast for them Olive had informed him that she was working on her unfinished story and planned to reach out to her editor that day. She even opened up about trying to figure out if it was better to continue on or start something new since she only had her outlines and notes to go off of. She had looked so determined and happy it was as if he had gotten the old Olive back.

While it was an improvement she still wasn’t his Olive yet and he wasn't going to settle until she was.

As they walked down the streets he could hear people getting excited to see the number 1 hero walking the streets next to the number 5. Kirishima had his own very loyal fan base that Olive had started to call his Shimanights. It also helped that Kirishima was basically the top hero who was still single.

Lots of girls flocked to them asking for pictures. Bakugou hated this part of the job. It had only been recently that he had actually started letting them shoot pictures of him. Before he would just ignore the cries of fans continuing to walk by.

Although today he was a bit on edge.

Or more than normal.

“You know,” Kirishima said, walking up behind Bakugou after snapping a few pictures with some high school girls. “I know you are dealing with a lot with Olive’s emotions and stuff but… Do you remember that time you were tracking that villain and disappeared in the mountains for over a week?

“Yeah, why?”

“You were engaged to Olive at the time and she had just officially moved here to Japan.” Kirishima sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. That week had been the longest week in his and Olive’s life. “When I went to go tell her what had happened I thought she was going to pass out. She kept saying you couldn’t die over and over again. I just” he paused again trying to find the right words.

“I know she’s upset about Eliott right now” Kirishima continued, “but she does love you just as much. How she’s acting now, is like how she was when you were gone.” Kirishima concluded. He knew when Bakugou had found out Olive had been married before the blonde had been upset. As if he was the second all over again. While it hadn’t stopped him in the long run, there was always these remnants of a scar that you can only see if you really look. That Bakugou was worried he would always be second in Olive’s life.

Bakugou looked away, lost in his own memories of that week. Coming back and seeing her in the hospital waiting for him. Her large hazel eyes filled with tears trying so hard not to cry. He had pulled her into his arms much like he had last night. She had told him over and over he couldn’t leave her. It was the only time she had ever said that. Olive had known that him being a hero was the most important thing to him and she never tried to get in his way.

But that night she wouldn’t leave his side. Holding onto him as if he would turn into dust and blow away if she so much as loosened her grip.

That had been over 2 years ago and he hadn’t thought about that in so long. It had never occurred to him that she had thought he may have been killed. Suddenly everything seemed to have a different hue on the past few weeks. As if he was seeing it all through different eyes.

“I guess” was Bakugou’s simple response as he continued walking down the street.

Suddenly all he wanted was to go home and see her. Remind her he would never leave her, he would never make her feel this way because of him.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Oive was deep in stories. Piecing them together was like a puzzle. Part of it felt like an old mussel she hadn’t worked out in a while. A bit stiff but it felt great. Getting back into the swing of things, coming up with ideas and planning stuff. Her editor had suggested she maybe look into a new idea or maybe something she had put away for a long time instead of jumping into the story she had been working on.

So laying on the floor of the living room that was exactly what she was doing. She had this one idea about a modern Esther story except for the king she has to marry is a Dragon king and she’s a unicorn only he doesn’t know that. She already had so many spicey ideas and the secret unicorn idea just had this… hidden comedy that made her smile.

A ping on her phone cut her off from her writing making her look down.

Lily: ‘Look what came up on my timeline.

As if on cue text opened up in Olive’s group chat from Lily. It was an image of Olive holding a little baby wrapped in a pink blanket. Leaning over Olive’s shoulder was Bakugou looking down at the small baby. His normally harsh features were much softer.

Lily: “That was when your goddaughter was born”

Clare instantly replied to another image, This one of Olive hanging off of Bakugo’s arm which he was flexing. That ‘I’m not annoyed but I’m trying to look it ’ scowl on his face that she was starting to realize was a signature of his.

The picture was followed up by a video from the same night. Bakugou was lifting up his arm as Olive hung on. Her body slowly lifting off the ground as she clung to his bicep. Giggling so hard she almost slipped several times.

“Stop laughing or you are going to lose your grip.” Bakugou’s voice said from the video as he watched her struggle to pull her legs up to her chest further off the ground.

“I can’t believe he’s doing that,” Clare’s voice said behind the camera

“He’s so proud of himself, show off” Lily laughed as the camera zoomed in on Bakugou’s face as he smiled down at Olive who was looking up at him still laughing.

“You are going to fall” he chastised

“I’m not!”

As if on cue her grip slipped, or maybe it had been her powers. Olive’s ass was suddenly on the floor, looking up at Bakugou blinking in shock.

“I told you, idiot,” Bakugou said, shaking his head, no real bite behind his voice.

Lily: ‘Pretty sure this one is Nate’s fav’

Another video popped up. Bakugou looking totally put out sitting on a white couch, arms crossed over his chest.

“I’m serious, why would you make me watch this utter horse shit! Vampires don’t bounce like that and what even was that robot?” Bakugou was yelling at an Olive who was laughing so hard she couldn’t breathe. The camera was pretty shaky; it was clear Lily was laughing as well.

“Katsuki is mad at us for showing him Robo Vampire.” Lilly’s voice narrated.

“More like mad at Olive, we are just enjoying the show” Nate, Lily’s husband said as the camera turned to him for a , an amused smile on his face.

“Oh my… I can’t stop… breath” Olive gasped from the seat next to Bakugou as he continued to rant at her.

“Seriously, how do you people enjoy that? What is actually wrong with you?”

“But look at how much fun we are having now,” she giggled, leaning forward a huge smile on her face. He studied her for a moment before pushing her face back, rolling his eyes. But there was just a hint of a smile on his scowling face. It was an impressive feat that only Bakugou could pull off.

Clare : This one is my favorite video.

It was a link to a youtube video of Olive sitting in the office of their apartment. She recognized her pink chair and pictures behind her.

In the video, she was answering some of her fan’s questions. Everything from what books inspired her at the moment, to her favorite drink to… her second marriage.

Past Olive had chuckled looking at the question for a moment before looking back up at the camera. Her eyes lighting up slightly, it was clear that whatever the question said sparked a deep joy inside that woman on the other side of the camera.

“So yes, as many of you have realized by now I am in a relationship with Hero DynaMight, Katsuki Bakugou. We met when he was in the US and have been together for over a year.” she paused the diamond on her hand catching the light as she ran her fingers through the turquoise and blue hair she now had. The one constant in her life, the ever-changing shades of her hair.

“So I know when Eliott died three years ago I had said I had gotten the love of my life and I didn’t think I could ever find another like that and I was at peace with it.” she bit her lip eyes darting off-screen for a moment trying to find the right words. “And I meant it. But… Katsuki just kind of came into my life and gave me something totally new.”

Past Olive laughed lightly for a moment at some memory that Present Olive wished she could remember. It looked like a happy one.

“They are two totally different people and there is no way to compare them. Eliott was this calm funny guy who taught me how to be comfortable in my own skin. He encouraged me to do what made me happy. Katsuki…” she paused a soft smile playing on her lips, her eyes lighting up at the memories.

“Katsuki showed me that second life keeps going and that nothing is impossible. That there is such a thing as a second chance. He…” she laughed, her hand covering her mouth for a moment that beautiful diamond that present Olive was still not used to, glinted in the light as if laughing with her, “He inspires me every day and has given me so much hope in the future.”

Olive couldn’t take her eyes off the girl on the screen. It was like seeing yourself in a fun mirror. Someone you didn’t recognize but your brain told you was you. That this woman who was smiling and so in love was the same girl as Olive. That this life this woman was talking about was hers.

As past Olive moved on to the next question - something about her upcoming book - Present Olive was caught up in her own thoughts. It wasn’t unbelievable that she could have been that happy and inlove with Bakugou. In fact she felt herself slowly falling for him more and more each day.

The door to their apartment opened, making Olive look up a huge smile on her face as the man from the videos was walking into the living room where she was sitting. When he saw her smiling face he paused, studying her. As if unsure what to do with her happiness.

Made sense. Poor guy.

“How was work?” she asked

“Fine,” was his simple reply as he took a seat on the couch. She scooted over so she could look up at him from her spot on the floor.

“So I have been thinking…” she said, scooting closer to him. He watched her, unsure how to react to this shift in her emotion. It was different from her normal forced happy, almost as if the old Olive was slowly peeking through the cracks. “Since I can’t remember anything you could basically take me to all my favorite places and it would be a new experience.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So do you have dinner plans?”

“No” He didn’t bother to point out that his plans were to eat with her because obviously, she was getting to a point.

She gently placed her hand on his knee sending shivers up his spine. The whole, touch-starved thing getting worse by the day. Suddenly he didn’t want to have dinner plans. He wanted to take her in his arms and eat her out instead.

“So what sorts of places would we go to eat? Besides that Ramen place you took me.”

“Normally I would cook but if you want to go out we can go get street food. You were obsessed with it.”

Her eyes grew wide leaning forward getting up onto her knees so she was now leaning over his legs excitedly. The position was not helping the subtle throbbing that was going on in Bakugou’s pants. His face flushed slightly as he tried to keep his composure.

“Oh that sounds like so much fun!”

“Ok let me shower and we can go.”

And it was fun. Olive practiced her Japanese ordering so much food Bakugou felt like he would never need to eat again. They even did some shopping which resulted in a new floppy sun hat that Olive kept moving her head to make flop around, that large smile that had been on her face in the apartment never leaving.

Several hours later and a cone of ice cream each they headed back to their apartment.

“Honestly, I don’t get it,” Olive said, turning to him, “I know we have touched on this topic a few times… but...”

“If you ask me again why we are together…”

“It’s just so weird.” she laughed nudging him with her arm leaning close her body pressed against his. “You’re like model hot and I’m like maybe a 5,” she said, pulling away, both of them feeling the loss of the other. “Number 1 Hero, beloved by all, super-rich,” she ticked off each reason as she spun away from him.

He reached out grabbing her arm causing her to stop, his callus hand enveloping her much smaller one. Her hazel eyes met his that mischievous look he had not seen in months. She used to give him so much shit, the old Olive never let him get away with anything.  Always laughing and joking about everything with a wit that could cut down even the most stoic of heroes.

Olive in turn felt like her feet had been melted into the concrete below her by the look her husband was giving her. So intense it felt like his red eyes were burning holes into her very soul. Peeling her raw down into someone else. The Olive she had seen on youtube video.

They stood there for a moment just looking at each other both totally lost in their own thoughts.

“Whatever we are ok!” he finally snapped, letting go of her hand breaking the tension that was as thick as the humidity of the summer night. Noticing a bit of ice cream on her nose, without thinking he brushed it away. “You also eat like a child.”

Giggling, she wiped the back of her face with her sleeve. Her cheeks flushing. “Yeah, yeah let’s just add it to the list of reasons why it’s weird you married me.”

“Oh shut up” he mumbled leaning forward kissing her, her lips were cold from the ice cream. She smiled against his lips deepening the kiss letting his tongue explore the cool sweet taste of her mouth.

Letting out a soft growl, Bakugou’s teeth dragged over her supple bottom lip. His free arm snaking around her waist pulling her closer so that she was flush against his body. He craved her more than anything else and even with them both fully clothed in the middle of a busy street he could only think about how badly he wanted her.

And then she sighed against his mouth and that was it.

“Let’s get back,” he said, looking down at her as she blinked up at him. His comment was more of a question than a statement. So much meaning laced behind those words. Thick and heavy “Please?”

She nodded softly, her large hat flopping with her. “ I would like to go back to our place. ”

His heart could have stopped in his chest. His whole body lighting up tingling at the tips. It was like when he blasted himself into the air. Light and weightless as if he could do anything. The feeling of the fire licking at his palms sending sparks running through his hand and up his fingers.

Grabbing her arm he started pulling her down the street only to pause to stop again to kiss her again before once again leading her towards their place.

Our place

She had called it our place.

- GET TAGGED -

Master List

Story Tag: @0hmydeku @inumorph @it-jinxed-us @myraticm @sizzlingdonutturtlemuffin

[regalrain]

On His Mind

Warnings in tags.

They were always a funky thing to Illinois, thinking on the different dimensions there were. The different timelines. How just one step can produce a catastrophic outcome, or the most beautiful of one. There’s so many hims out there, he knows it, he’s seen it, encountering a handful of rather pleasant, and unpleasant, fellow hims.

Some of which are so close to the him that is him, bleeding over in his head when he so much as falters for a second. Realities mixing like it’s all on a painters easel, the yellows and tans and weirdly enough some purples and blues and just— all these colors mixing on his canvas instead of it being separated as it should be. He was a tan. Champagne. He wasn’t any of these other colors, and he didn’t want to be.

His mindscape isn’t even like a canvas, nonetheless envisioned atop an easel. He’s not an artistic person by any means, but that seems to be a more apt description in his opinion when it comes to this— bleeding of his mind. Rather then how his mind sometimes gets flowers that aren’t his in the meadow beside his forest, how sometimes trees flop and other things form in their place. Like those spires, or even whole on places and things, before they get pushed back to whichever version of him head’s they belong to. He shouldn’t even be aware of his mindscape, such a sacred place in the mind it is. Meant for the unconsciousness, and projections of the self to dwell. But like everything else, something always happens that makes him know it’s there. Too much messing with the gods and fate, perhaps, too many brush of his lips against deaths own before winking and sauntering away. A curse. A blessing. Hell if he knows.

Sometimes he gets more tunnels in his... his cave... the darkest part of his mind. Block offs that shouldn’t of been there, and fully formed caverns that have him screaming in the real world, unknowing why he suddenly feels scared of someone he didn’t, or like he’s not even where he’s supposed to be. His cave should mostly be caved in, repressed memories and feelings he never been taught to deal with. Things even if he was taught, he’d never want to. Not with... with all the blood, torture, betrayals, death-

The worst will always be the reactions though, that overrides his own confident smirk even as he’s getting the shit beat out of him, that keeps his silver tongue at bay. Instead having him... crumple, begging for mercy when there is no harm to be found. Pleading to be used, or pet, or put in his place. Groveling like he had no pride, unable to fully understand why. Only knowing that his head throbbed, and his heart was in his throat, tearing even more. It was a wonder he had any grip on his sanity left, when he sorted what was his own mind once again. Peeling himself up and off the ground, grinning and laughing it all off, rubbing his head.

His head that was always throbbing. Throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, throbbing, throbbing.

An ever constant presence of pressure, that had him sagging against a wall sometimes, when he thought no one could see. Rubbing at it, trying to just relieve some of that overwhelming pressure, so much as even a fraction in order to give him some peace. Not like that was ever coming soon, even without all these timelines that came ever since the cursed monkey incident with them, even without all the dimensions, and the knowledge that maybe somewhere in them he wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t so strange, he’d still have the pressure. From the expectations placed upon him, how to be, how to act, what is acceptable to enjoy - his work being one of the few, it’s why he got a job in the field when he didn’t even need the money it offered - and what isn’t.

The anxiety that’s lived with him since he could remember would still keep some of that pressure, no matter how much he tries to cover it up to the point he’s so cocky he believes his cockiness. Everything from how he still doesn’t understand some things that just seem to click for others, all these social cues, to his issues with his senses he tries to push through. Touch, taste, sight, sound, all overwhelming him to the point he has to try to excuse himself without letting it on how it’s affecting him, when he can’t just push through. Wiping away tears and curling up somewhere, a different throbbing hurting his head and making him wish all these senses would just stop.

But he was Illinois. This all didn’t matter~ He’ll just keep going through the days as he always does. A smirk on his face, a tilt to his hat, and a sway to his step~ He was among the best after all. The best doesn’t need any help~

The best has no help.

[yikesharringrove]

maybe? 👉👈 steve taking a really long time with college (like on one year and off one yours year, on, off, on, off) and he still doesn't really know what he wants to do and he gets really frustrated bc billy just did college all in one go and steve is taking forever and he feels down on himself? idk im feeling the whump rn???

Steve had left high school having no idea what he wanted from the rest of his life.

That’s not true, he had some idea.

He knew he wanted to leave Hawkins, follow Billy wherever he was going. He knew he wanted to be with Billy for the rest of his life, he knew he wanted to leave the past behind and make new friends, people who were kind, and fun, and didn’t bat an eye when Billy pulled him into his lap.

But that’s about it.

So when Billy graduates high school, and gets a full ride to UC Berkeley, and they move into a cheap apartment in downtown Oakland, Steve is so happy that he got out.

He gets a job waiting tables at a restaurant down the street, pays half the rent and buys the groceries while Billy’s in class.

But then two years pass, and Billy’s soaring through college, working to his degrees, plural, because he just couldn’t decide between studying English Literature or Biology with a focus in research.

So he’s majoring in both and getting a minor in Italian because then I’ll know what you’re sayin’ when you start horny babblin’.

And Steve was at the same restaurant.

True, he was assistant manager now, and it came with a pretty okay raise, and he even gets dental insurance, but he feels so stuck.

So he enrolls in community college.

He starts with some general classes, still completely unsure of what he wants to study.

Billy said it was okay to just rule out things you don’t want to study, to nearly fail a math course and know that accounting is not for you.

So when Steve finishes his first year, he at least knows what he doesn’t want to pursue.

Meanwhile Billy has an internship at a lab through Kaiser Permanente. And he can read and write Italian than Steve can.

Steve is walking home from his job at the restaurant when it happens. He’s crossing the street, and gets hit by a car.

He’s taken to the hospital, where he’s informed of a fractured spine and another concussion.

He’s told his injury could’ve been much more severe, that he will not experience paralysis, but he needs physical therapy and walking will be difficult for a while.

Their finances take a big hit.

Billy’s internship doesn’t pay super well, and with Steve being unable to work for the foreseeable future, he’s fired.

Billy has insurance through the school, but because on paper, he and Steve have no real relation, Steve’s medical bills come out of pocket.

So Steve is bedridden for months. He can’t work or get groceries, or do fucking anything but lay there.

They can’t afford physical therapy.

But Billy has a friend studying to be a PT, and she comes over every Saturday, and practices her technique on him in exchange for ten bucks and a few beers.

And so the money Steve tucked away for school is rapidly diminishing.

By the time Billy graduates, Steve is a year into recovery. He still gets dizzy at odd intervals, and his back gets stiff when it rains, but Billy gets a job right away, doing research on flu vaccines.

And Steve goes back to work.

He gets a desk job, something he won’t have to be on his feet all day for. He works reception for a message therapist, which comes with free massages, which work wonders on his back.

So in the fall, he decides to give his education another shot.

He learns that history is not for him, and that his nutrition course was fine until they began looking into how the body processes nutrients, and he was fucking lost. He takes a few business classes, thinking, hoping genetics would take over and this is something he could do.

But his dad was right to take away the job opportunity at his own firm. Steve was not cut out for this.

After a year of research, Billy is promoted three times. He ends up working on some extremely important study that Steve does not understand for the fucking life of him.

But he sits and listens every time Billy explains what he did that day, even though Steve gets so sad when Billy mentions having to kill the lab mice to study their bodies.

So Steve is two years into community college, five years into living in Oakland with Billy, and he still is lost.

He takes a semester off, working more hours, trying to save up some money.

Because Billy is beginning to think about grad school, and that shit’s not cheap.

But Billy decides to postpone that, work for a few more years, and besides, he’s caught between studying something to put him in a research field, or just straight up going to medical school to study infectious disease.

Because Billy could. He’s smart enough for medical school, smart enough to research and be a doctor.

And Steve has a smushy spine and half a degree in nothing.

A semester off turns into a year.

A year and a semester.

Two years.

They’ve been in California for seven years, and Billy gets into grad school in San Diego. They move south and Billy spends late nights pursuing a Masters in Immunology.

And Steve works the front desk at a pediatrician’s office.

He’s flipping through a course catalog from the San Diego Community College when Billy comes home from his new job, the position he got after applying to only three labs.

He kissed the top of Steve’s head, moving to grab himself a beer from the fridge.

“You thinkin’ of going back?”

“I don’t know.” Steve slid the catalog closed. “Is it even worth it?”

“That’s something you have to decide.” Billy sat down, sliding the catalog towards him. Steve had crossed off the classes he had already taken, the ones he new he wouldn’t like.  “And you know, going to school isn’t the only option. You could get an apprenticeship, master a trade.”

“I can’t do anything where I need to bend over for really any length of time. So that rules out plumber, and car mechanic, and anything physical like construction, or landscaping or even general contracting is right out.”

Steve could feel the old shame, the doubt and the self hatred crawling up his spine.

“I have nothing to offer. I have no discerning skills, and in seven years I’ve only made it through two years of goddamn community college, and here you are, ripping through grad school like a fourth degree is easy.”

“Stevie, you’ve got a lot to offer. We just gotta find something that suits you.” He took Steve’s pen, turning to the back page of the catalog. “Okay, we’re gonna write down all of you strengths, and think of career paths that could fit those. I’ll go first, you’re extremely caring. You’d be good at any career where you care for people.”

“But I can’t study nursing or something, I barely understood my biology 101 course. Plus, nurses are strong. I can’t lift more than like, thirty pounds.”

“There’re way more caring fields than nursing, Pretty Boy. Although I would love if you were my nurse.” Billy smirked at him, leaning in to plant a sloppy kiss to Steve’s cheek as he rolled his eyes. “Another strength: your emotional intelligence is through the fucking roof.” He wrote it down. “Okay, I’ve said tow, so you say one.”

“Um, I think that I’m good at making people laugh?”

“Yes! You are. Perfect.” Billy scribbled it down. “You’re a good leader.”

“I’m pretty good at reading people.” Billy wrote Intuitive, can smell a douchebag from a mile away.

“You’re good under pressure.”

“Sometimes.”

“Every time I’ve seen. You’re good at keeping calm and keeping others calm.”

“I guess.”

“Nah, Stevie. Positives only. Say a strength.”

“I’m, uh, I’m good at, bilingual?” Billy stared at him. “Like, I’m bilingual.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think that was English, even.” Steve slapped his chest, Billy laughed. “I’m joking. You are bilingual. You’re also really good at making others feel safe.”

“I was always pretty alright at public speaking.”

“You’ve got a great eye for detail.”

“I’m good at teamwork, and delegating.”

“You’re really compassionate, too.” Billy drew a line under the strengths side. “Okay, so now we’ve got some of your strengths, think about what you’d want in a job, and we can match everything up and think about some careers that could fit.” Steve nodded, racking his brain.

“Um, I would want to work with kind people, I would kind of like to do something, you know, worthwhile. I’d like to be in charge of something. Like it’s fine if I have a boss to answer to, but I’d like to be fairly independent.”

“I already have so many ideas.”

“Lay ‘em on me.” Steve sat back, closing his eyes to try and picture everything Billy threw out.

“I’ve actually always thought you’d be a really good teacher. Especially if you did like, kindergarten. Just got to be around little kids all day.” Steve could actually see it. “I also think you’d be a could social worker, like to work with Child Protective Services, or something. Um, you’d be good at even planning. Or I think you’d be really good working at a nonprofit of some kind. Maybe you could be the event planner for a nonprofit.”

And Steve was sitting there, and suddenly, he had four career paths, just sitting right in front of him. Four super attainable career paths.

“Wait, wait those make sense.” Billy beamed at him.

“Yeah, that’s because I know you, Pretty Boy.” Billy opened the catalog. “So, I think if you choose to enroll, you should pick a few classes, like, Intro to Social Work, Early Childhood Education 100, and maybe like, Sociology, and see from there.”

Steve stared at the course descriptions for what Billy circled.

“Thank you for helping me. I’m sorry this has taken me so long.”

“It’s okay. Everyone is on a different timeline. And it’s not like you got to explore options in high school. You were told business until your dad decided that nevermind. So it’s understandable that this took you a minute. Plus, you went through hell with your back.”

Steve sat up straight, stretching out his back.

“But, I mean, the back thing kinda happened to you too, and you still made it through all your schooling.”

“Sure, I watched you go through it, but I was not in the pain you were. And like, emotionally, it fucking sucked to watch the love of my goddamn life go through something, and I couldn’t even afford therapy. Like, I felt so helpless, but that’s nothing to what you went through literally experiencing it.” Steve took Billy’s hand, linking their fingers together, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

“You did the best you could. Everything was shit for like, that whole year.”

“I cannot telly you how many times I would go into an individual study room in the library and just like, sob for a while.And then I’d get so mad at myself, thinking of you at home, hurting and not even able to get yourself out of bed, and I’d race home feeling like shit.”

Steve scrubbed his fingers through Billy’s hair. He had cut it a while ago, kept it short these days.

“You were doing everything you could for me. I would just sit in bed all day, and think about how amazing you are. Like I would just think about all the good times we’ve had together, and how much I love you.”

“That explains why we didn’t fight for like, that whole year.” Steve laughed. Billy leaned to kiss him softly.

“And you know, even now we’ve done this, there’s still no rush on you. You don’t have to go back to school this year, of this decade, or anytime until you’re ready. Until you want to.”

“Well now, I feel like there’s a fucking light at the end of the tunnel. I’m almost, excited. Is this how you feel? Excited to go to school?”

“Welcome to the nerd life, Sweet Thing.” Billy drained the last of his beer. “You wanna go out tonight? Celebrate?”

“Like, go out to dinner, or go out?”

“Oh, just like dinner. Be home by eight thirty, in bed by nine, missionary with the lights off, and asleep by nine fifteen.”

“Sign me the fuck up.”

[ikementally-deficient]

Advanced Entomology - Chapter 7: Metamorphosis

Fandom: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice/Love and Producer

Rating: Carolina Reaper (See Masterlist for rating descriptions)

Warnings: dubious/uninformed consent, see masterpost A/N

Due to the nature of the questionable consent in this fic, if you enjoy this story enough to reblog it, please reblog the masterpost rather than individual chapters.

Author’s Note: Holy shit it’s finished! This last chapter was like pulling teeth, and it got both more emotional and less smutty (though still pretty smutty) than I intended. Tangential spoilers for chapters 14-18, although this has departed from canon pretty heavily so you probably won’t get too spoiled if you haven’t read those yet. 

Thank you to everyone who liked, reblogged, and spoke to me on discord and AO3, this never would have been completed without that encouragement.

********************************

He follows her up the stairs. It would almost be boring, if it weren’t for his knowledge of what awaits them at the top.

They climb in silence, Lucien watching the sway of her skirt ahead of him. He focuses on the pleats fluttering around her knees, her slender calves flexing as she climbs. He’s tempted to reach out and grasp her delicate ankle and pull her back, wrapping her limbs around him, ignoring his mission in favour of burying himself in her.

He’s pulled from his reverie by the sound of her shoes scraping to a halt. 

“We’re here.” She places her hand on the bar of the door, preparing to step out on to the roof of the tower. He’s still amazed at how easy it was to lead her here, pretending to follow the trail of clues he’d littered for her to find. He smiles fondly as she looks back at him, amber eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you ready, Lucien?”

“I’m ready,” he purrs, stifling his anxiety about what lies before them. He’s done his job well. The Queen will trust him, just as his butterfly does. There is nothing to fear. He places his hand over hers on the crash bar.

The roof of the tower is disappointingly prosaic: an open square covered in gravel, with a steel pylon supporting an antenna. The only sound is the faint rush of traffic many stories below them. It’s hardly a worthy setting for the portentous event about to take place.

She leads him across the roof to the pylon and stares up at it. “Is this it? Is this what’s causing everyone’s Evols to go out of control?”

“All evidence seems to point that way.” He stares up, squinting against the sun’s glare. “The antenna is centrally placed, and high enough to reach most of the city.”

“How do we shut it off?”

Lucien holds his breath as she circles the pylon slowly, homing in on the red switch box. He follows her, coming to stand behind her as her hand caresses the switch. 

“Are you ready?” she asks. Her tone is faint, eyes absent. She might be talking to him, or herself, or the world. He casts one last glance up at the silent pylon.

Silly girl.

The switch clunks across its hinge. For a moment nothing happens, and Lucien begins to wonder if he’s miscalculated somehow. Then the pylon hums to life, and he feels the powerful amplification field spring up around them. 

“What --?” She’s shocked, looking up in disbelief. “It was already off?” He places his hands on her shoulders and she whirls to face him. “Lucien, what’s going on?”

“It’s been waiting for you, butterfly. Can’t you feel it working?” He can feel his own Evols responding to the field, but he’s been exposing himself to it off and on for nearly a year. Maintaining control is easy. Not so for her; suddenly dropped into the center of the field, she’s overwhelmed. Her eyes are wide and staring. He knows she’s being assaulted by images, possibilities, quantum futures, and it’s too much for her. With a shuddering sigh, she collapses against him. He gathers her unconscious form into a bridal carry and sits against the waist-high wall, waiting to see who awakens.

*************************************

A faint whimper alerts him before her eyes flick open. Her pupils are so dilated the irises are nearly invisible, just a thin amber border around black pupils. She stares up at him with lips parted, and he is struck by the memory of her pinned to his living room floor, pupils blown wide with wanting.

“Hello,” he breathes.

She blinks a few times, pupils slowly contracting against the afternoon light. “Lucien?” Her voice is faint. He waits, and is rewarded. “Ares.”

“Yes, my Queen.”

She pushes away from him, climbing out of his lap and standing on her own. He rises to stand beside her, ready to guide her back to the stairs, back to Black Swan. He touches her elbow, but suddenly his fragile butterfly is a steel cable under his hand, immoveable.

“You didn’t need to awaken me,” she states flatly. He stares at her. She stares back, inscrutable. “You’d already headed off Zeus and Hades’ foolishness with the virus. You don’t need me here.” She looks around, dismissing him as unimportant for the moment. 

“I needed to complete my mission, my Queen.” 

“Your mission was a waste of time. Black Swan will never have me.” He watches her stalk to the switch box and flip it back to the off position. The hum of electricity dies, and he can feel all his hopes die with it. Her body language is alien, strong and certain and unquestioning and nothing at all like the butterfly he’s tamed. His heart feels cold. 

She glances back at him.

“She’s still here, Ares.” The Queen turns and walks to him, reaching up to cup his cheek. “She couldn’t leave.” He gapes down at her. “Idiot. Did you think neither of us would realise?”

“Realise what?”

“That you love her.”

It’s reflex that has him blurting out a denial of sorts. “I’m not allowed --”

She’s having none of it. “But you do. And so does she.”

“She shouldn’t.”

“Oh, I know. And so does she, now. We’ve seen everything.” Her hand slides down his neck to stroke his tie. “Every possibility. Every way this played out. Every betrayal,” she grabs his tie, nails scoring the silk, “And she still loves you, Ares.”

Lucien gapes down at her, at a complete loss. His mouth works for a moment before he can find words. “Why?”

The Queen smiles up at him, a self-assured Cheshire Cat curl. “Because even when you betray her, you protect her. As much as you can. It’s rather sweet, actually.” Her grip on his tie tightens as she begins to pull him down, a slow steady drag.

“I don’t -- I don’t understand,” he stammers desperately.

“Lucien.” It’s her voice again, the delicate butterfly’s sweet tone. “It’s alright.” She presses a gentle kiss to his lips and he’s back in the art gallery, so many months ago. He raises his hands to cup her face, losing himself in her soft mouth. 

At last they part, and he stares down at her in wonder. “I still don’t understand.”

She gives him a tremulous smile, and he can still see the Queen lurking in her eyes, but the smile is all her. “None of it matters, Lucien. No matter how all of this ends, you always love me.” Her cheeks bloom with the same blush he remembers evoking as they stood in echo of Klimt’s kiss. “And I love you.” She reaches up to clasp her hands around the nape of his neck. “Please, Lucien, take me home,” she leans in, pressing against him with an assertiveness he’s never dared dream of, “And take me.”

The idea of descending the stairs and taking a bus or a taxi never occurs to him. He slides his arms around her waist and steps backwards into her bedroom. His heel hits the foot of the bed and he’s falling backwards onto the duvet, pulling her down on top of him. She lands clumsily, straddling his hips with her hands planted next to his ears. 

“Are you sure?” Lucien’s voice is hoarse. It seems absurd to ask now, of all times, after months of practically forcing her to want him, but the mission is blown, the Queen autonomous, and he desperately wants something real to make up for everything he’s repressed in the name of Black Swan. 

She giggles and his heart lightens when she dips her head to dust kisses across his forehead and down his nose. Her lips trace a sweet path across his mouth and along his jaw, coming to rest next to his ear. A puff of warm breath accompanies her answer.

“I’m positive, Lucien.” Her kisses continue down his neck and into the gap of his collar, before she pulls back to start undoing his tie with an adorably focused expression. At last she pulls the silk out of his collar and eyes him contemplatively. 

“You know,” she says, and even in the dim light he can see both of them in her eyes. “You’ve worked so hard over the last few months to make me feel good.” She takes his wrists and tugs until he lets her lift his arms over his head, and starts to wind the tie around them. “I have the feeling you won’t believe any of this is real until I’ve had the chance to return the favour a little.” She leans over him, the fabric of her shirt brushing against his nose. He can feel the tug of the tie against his wrists until his hands are resting against the headboard. He twitches experimentally and realises she’s tied him to the bed.

“What are you doing?”

She crawls backwards down his torso until they’re nose to nose. “I’ve seen everything you’ve done to me, Lucien.” Her forehead gently bumps against his before she’s moving down again, undoing each button of his shirt and kissing the skin behind it before proceeding to the next one. “More importantly, I’ve seen everything you haven’t done, everything you could have done, everything you did somewhere else but not here.” Her lips brush his navel and Lucien can feel his abdominal muscles flinch when she trails her tongue across them. 

“Do you know,” she continues conversationally as her fingers make short work of his belt buckle. “You’ve done this in other places -- other timelines?” She looks off in the distance for a moment before shrugging. “Taken me to bed. Conditioned me.” The belt falls open and the zipper of his trousers follows suit. “But you always hold yourself back.” She smirks a little and he flushes, remembering the afternoon in front of the mirror. “Well, nearly always. It’s never been about you.”

Her fingers slide under the waistband of his shorts, and slowly pull until his erection springs free, hard and hot. She leans in and he shivers as her hair tickles his skin. “I’ve been wanting this for a long time.” She rubs her cheek along the length of him. “This is about you.”

His heart nearly hammers out of his chest when she takes the head of his cock into her mouth. Her mouth is hot and wet and the slide of her tongue has him gritting his teeth. At the sound of his groan she sucks hard and the headboard creaks as his hands are stymied in their effort to grab her. 

She slides off him with a quiet pop and grins. “Do you like that, Lucien?” Sucking him back in, she pulls his trousers and shorts down to his knees and nudges him to pull his legs free. He’s splayed in front of her, his only clothing the shirt hanging from his bound forearms. His hips flex, yearning to thrust into her mouth.

Lucien forces his arms to relax against the tie. “I do.” His body is aching to hold her. “But --” his voice falters.

“But what?” She waits patiently, crouched over him, breathing warmly against him as he tries to figure out how to just ask for something. Lucien represses everything for his mission. Ares takes what is necessary. But now, he has the opportunity to request his deepest desire and receive it, freely given, knowingly given.

“I want . . . “ He trails off, then sucks in a steadying breath and starts again. “I want to hold you.”

She blinks up at him. 

“Everything I’ve done up to now has been for someone else’s goals.” He licks his lips, mesmerised by the gleam of her eyes. “I just want to hold you. For myself.”

The catch of her breath is audible. They stare at each other in silence for a moment, Lucien painfully aware that neither his blush nor his erection are fading. Then suddenly she is slithering back up his torso until her mouth meets his in a desperate, hungry kiss while her hands work at the knot in the tie. The instant his hands are free he sheds the shirt and wraps his arms around her, one hand clutching her waist and the other buried in her hair. They spend several minutes in this pose, drinking each other in, bodies grinding against each other. Lucien feels like the hormonal teenager he once disclaimed to Zeus as he moans into her. 

Finally, the feeling of her clothing against his skin is too much. “Please,” he begs. “Let me undress you.”

She presses away from him, hands on his shoulders. “No, I don’t think so.” He can feel himself shrivel as she crawls off of him. Her hands move to the bow of her sash and his heart stops. “We’re done with you doing things to me, Lucien.” The sash falls loose and she slides the dress over her head and sits back on her knees, all pale pink flesh and white cotton underthings. She reaches up to touch the clasp of her bra and meets his eyes. “I’m doing this now.” She shrugs the bra away as the clasp slips open and shimmies out of her panties. A beautiful flush warms her breasts as she comes back to him and settles in his arms. “Do you understand?”

The emotional whiplash is wiped away by the feeling of her soft hair curling along his cock, recovered and straining against her. He holds her close again, waiting for her to make the first move. Patience is rewarded; she gathers herself to slide wetly over his cock, teasing him with her arousal. Long minutes of this and they’re both panting heavily. Each flex of her hips is slower, tantalizing him with the rub and gentle catch of her clitoris against the head of his erection. Finally, she raises her hips enough to angle him against her entrance and pauses, teasing.

“Are you ready?” she asks, that Cheshire cat smile on her swollen mouth. Lucien’s mouth is dry, but he forces the sound from his throat.

“Yes --” and she’s engulfing him, moist heat and delicious pressure and it’s so different from that day of the mirror because she’s in charge and letting him be inside her. All the muscles from his diaphragm to his thighs clench tight and spasm as she rides him, leaning back and dragging his hands up her torso. He follows and brings his mouth to her breasts, sucking desperately at her nipples as his hands clutch her hips hard enough to bruise.

She gasps as his teeth scrape across her and he can see her hand sliding down her own stomach in his peripheral vision. She tightens around him as her fingers rub desperately at her clit, and he loses all sense of control. His face is buried between her breasts as her orgasm shudders around him and he can no longer hold off his own, spilling into her and feeling all his discipline evaporate. They fall back into the sheets, still twitching around each other. Her mouth lands on his clavicle and she presses open kisses to it, each own mirrored by a shivering aftershock around his softening cock. 

“This is how it is from now on, Lucien.” Her voice is a hoarse whisper, but still sweet. “Can you accept that?”

He considers, long enough for his cock to slide out of her and the sweat on his chest and forehead to cool and dry. He’s not in charge anymore, and she’s not quite the butterfly he tamed. Black Swan will still need to be dealt with; the Queen is a threat to them now, and a rogue Olympian can’t be left alone. But -- 

He looks down at her and smiles. It’s not one of his practiced smiles, trotted out for appropriate reactions to appropriate occasions, and he has no idea what it looks like.

“I can, and I will . . . my Monarch.”

All things considered, the situation could be much worse.

[hydrospanners]

fic masterlist: swtor

at the request of literally no one, i’ve created a masterlist of all my swtor fic. first is a chronological collection of all the swtor fic i’ve written in my “canon”. it’s broken up into snippets of time relative to the events of swtor. aus and gift fics are at the end. this is more for me than anything else, but if you have a bunch of time on your hands and want to read some fic--enjoy!!!

i am the most self-indulgent author known to man so there are numerous fics that don’t feature any canon characters in any significant way. i’m not sorry, but i did mark them with an asterisk for everyone’s edification. i also wrote actually vaguely descriptive descriptions instead of whatever bullshit i put in the descriptions on ao3. all links go to ao3 because tumblr was not designed for reading and it shows.

53 fics below the cut... what a trip, y’all.

backstory these fics are about things that happened before the opening of the class story. 

* a very velaran life day - snippets of different life days in the velaran family history. no canon characters in it yet, but maybe this christmas i’ll get to some fics that aren’t solely about my own ocs.

* the shape of things to come - the story about how rea finally joined the jedi at the ripe old age of sixteen.

* a dimming star - the first steps on rea’s jedi path. they aren’t fun ones, lads!

* necessary sacrifice - like three years down the timeline and still no canon characters! rea continues to struggle with this whole being a jedi thing, and it continues to struggle with her! this one features a haircut as a symbol of a turning point in the story.

bars and stripes - canon characters??? in my fic????? its more likely than you think. this is a shameless ripoff of an episode of m*a*s*h masquerading as doc backstory. does it have cameos and/or mentions of other healer companions? maybe!!!

prelude these are fics set during the prologue of the class stories, everything that happens between the start and completing the capital planet missions. 

* memories - rhese? do you finally get a say in all this??? this is the moment rhese and rea finally see each other for the first time since they were recruited to the jedi, set at the very start of the class story.

attachments - kira and rea talk about rhese. that’s it. that’s the fic.

act one all the stories set between killing tarnis and beginning preparations to capture the emperor (everything after coruscant ending and pubside balmorra starting). rip orgus. one day ill finish all those wips about how sad it was when he bit it. in the mean time, can i interest you in some gifsets?

lessons - now rea’s padawan, kira reflects on how bad rea is at teaching, though maybe without as much clarity as i just implied.

a tangled web - so stupid it’s basically crack, kira has to rescue rea from an embarrassing situation.

of flowers, failure, and the virtues of friendship - kira and rhese start to bond over the shared torment of having to be around rea. rivals to friends (one day i’ll write the “to lovers” part that comes after).

act two all the stories during the time when the knight is prepping for the assault on the emperor’s fortress and then assaulting it. everything between pubside balmorra starting and breaking free from the emperor’s fortress after that super successful plan to bring him in alive. great job jedi!

filling the table - is that shipfic????? the reason i started writing swtor fic in the first place??? this is rea being thirsty disguised as me sewing seeds for the eventual doc x rea romance. pazaak themed for some reason? (doc x rea)

when the wicked play - this is me being obsessed with the translation of video game violence to vaguely realistic circumstances posing as doc feeling some kind of way about rea murdering a whole bunch of dudes who wanted to hurt her but weren’t powerful enough. not primarily romantic but definitely some setup for their relationship.

night shift -  everything is doc x rea and nothing hurts. rea’s got work to do but who can work when there’s a horny mustachio’d doctor trying to persuade her back to bed??? it’s not love it’s just good sex!!!!! honest!!!!(doc x rea)

these nights never seem to go to plan - rea isn’t yearning for affection, she’s just too tired to get out of doc’s bed after so much boning. okay maybe this is about slightly more than good sex after all... doc x rea TENDERNESS.

somewhere we’ve not been before - this is the good shit lads!!!! doc x rea!!! first dates!!!! shenanigans!!!! honest to goodness falling in love between all that fucking that do!!!!!!!!!!!! (doc x rea)

no better taste - a sequel to the last fic featuring the morning after!!! some post-horniness introspection!! tenderness!!!!!! hints of yearning!!! god i miss the days before the mind control and the carbonite when the problems were normal things like commitment and abandonment issues. (doc x rea)

heart - rea sends doc a rocking “thanks for the great sex” gift!! rhese is disgusted by every part of it! this is comedy folks!!!! (doc x rea... i guess)

interruptions - rea takes a work call while she’s boning doc. that’s the whole fic. i think this was my first spicy fic?? i can’t remember. (doc x rea)

* where you go to rest your bones - sibling tenderness!!!! their relationship is super complicated, but rhese is reminded that underneath all the bullshit rea really does love him a lot.... it’s both sad and not sad at the same time. schroedinger’s sadness.

gifts - the crew tries to plan a gift for rea, but what do you get for the woman who’s banned from everything?? so dumb it’s basically crack and i’m not sorry for it.

crapshoot - the crew takes bets on what rea’s next Bad Idea TM will be. she shows them you can’t predict chaos. basically crack but i don’t care.

spoonful of sugar - vignettes about the jedi knight crew dealing with sickness. almost entirely comedy and/or fluff. doc x rea content is present and rhese x kira content is suggested.

a little eggstra - grocery shopping gone awry, based on an old tumblr text post. hella stupid, yet hella fun. doc x rea is in the background.

to break our bones for kindling - you thought we were just having good times??? you’re a fool. doc’s job is to heal people and rea’s job is to break them. sometimes they have work-related disagreements!!! be sad with me. doc x rea.

* when a problem comes along, you must whip it - i can only stop being stupid for so long, so here’s the story about how rea came to possess her lightwhip, the stupidest weapon known to man. these events do not go well for rhese.

things unsaid - a dumb doc x rea drabble about stupid shit rea says when she’s been mortally wounded. if doc were to just let her die, no one would blame him.

* the things you do for love are gonna come back to you one by one - a bit of a character/relationship study about what rhese is willing to sacrifice for love of his sister, no matter how complicated things are between them. a second chapter about what rea sacrifices for rhese is in my wips and will be completed... .eventually. 

lovesick - doc x rea ship content. my interpretation of that one conversation where doc’s like “hey would your jedi powers tell me if im going crazy also do you love me? check yes or no. i will not elaborate.”

* the things we left behind - oh no lads.... we’re building up to the fortress shit.... our good times are over. rea does some underhanded shit to make sure her brother doesn’t go on this mission to capture the emperor cause the plan does not seem like a great one.

act three wow wasn’t act two fun??? so much silly nonsense and love. now get a drink assholes it’s Time To Be Sad. act three covers everything in the class stories after coming back from that super successful assault on the emperor’s fortress (great job jedi!) to finally stabbing the bastard in the dark fortress and hoping that gets the job done at last. (spoilers: it doesn’t!!!!!) aka stories from belsavis to the final assault on dromund kaas.

everything we left there - it’s trauma time!!! rea’s fucked up from the fortress and feeling the pressure (thanks for the prophecy scourge!!! love that!!!!) so she hurts people she cares about to protect them. it’s her signature move!

the only thing that’s real - rea continues to be fucked up from what happened on the fortress but hey... at least she isn’t fucked up alone??? sad doc x rea content.

into the jungle - the gang is on belsavis and no one is having a good time! since rea isn’t herself, doc tries to pick up the slack and reassure kira that it’ll all be okay! it goes about as well as you’d expect.

interlude now that i’m looking at it, there are some serious gaps in my fic coverage. anyway, sad hours are over, the emperor is (kind of but not really) dead and there may still be a war on but things are looking up! this covers everything between the emperor’s death and the beginning of kotfe, including forged alliances and the shadow of revan.

hands too hungry - doc finally takes rea on that honeymoon she didn’t really care about in the first place! tragically, rea is way too horny to be impressed by what an amazing vacation he planned for himself them. peak rea x doc content.

no kind of romantic - it’s doc and rea’s one year anniversary but they are both working on opposite sides of the galaxy. sad! it’s doc x rea fluff disguised as angst.

a little help from a friend - rea and theron are worst/best friends and i recycle romance tropes into annoying friendship ones. this is the least sexy sharing body heat fic you’ve ever (not?) read. bite me.

retirement - rea has some feelings about her very violent, stressful job and how it interferes with her husband doing things that actually help and heal. doc x rea content.

the dreaded kotfe content these are sad hours!!! this is everything from arcann’s invasion on, cause i’m not breaking it up by post-carbonite storyline you bastards. i don’t know why i’m being so hostile no one asked me to do this.

every doubt we had - after watching what may have been his sister’s death by exploding starship, rhese is having trouble sleeping. no one is more surprised than him when seeks out doc for comfort! doc & rhese brothers by marriage solidarity. carbonite angst...

love is a waiting game - rea’s been MIA for six months since the ship she was on bit it and her crew is finally making some changes. doc is sad about it. doc & rhese brothers by marriage solidarity again. doc x rea angst.

waiting - some time has passed and now rhese is the sad one again!!! grief is so funny isn’t it??? hahahaha haha hahahaha why is no one else laughing? doc & rhese brothers by marriage solidarity yet again.

the greatest distance - rea’s back baby!!!! oh but this isn’t a celebration. she’s taking a tour of her long lost ship now that all the people she loved aren’t in it. it’s a sad one, fellas. 

* when the stars are the only thing we share - rea tracks down some people from her past to help her track down her brother since he went missing while she was having a nap. no canon characters were used in the making of this fic.

leave her sleeping a little longer - rea has a dream and wakes up missing doc even more than she was before. sad hours. doc x rea angst.

take back what the kingdom stole - after theron pulls some Shenanigans (you know the ones) his friendship with rea is in peril. they both break character and actually talk shit out for once.

a wish your heart makes - rea dreams a dream. so does doc. it’s a wet one. this makes it sound lighthearted but actually it’s angst with a side of porn. doc x rea supreme spicy/sad content.

overserved - back to crack baby!! rea gets drunk and acts a fool based on a joke made in a discord server. this is the best shit i’ve ever written.

thrusting back into my skin i feel anew - the band is back together again and everything is fine!!!! just kidding -- actually people change a lot in six years and rea and doc are having some trouble fitting back into the marriage they had back then. doc x rea angst but with a hopeful ending!

non-canon fics i’ve written a couple of things with my dumb characters that are too stupid even for me to put into their canon story or are otherwise aus. these are them, listed in no particular order.

the lies we tell ourselves - a sadder (yet possibly more realistic) take on the ossus reunion and what follows. a bit experimental. doc x rea angst au.

archiban frodrick’s kennel - a romance au where doc is a vet and rea has a pet with a health issue, inspired by my own stupid dog whom i love very much. doc x rea. spiciness suggested but not detailed; sorry horndogs.

fallen - a fun au where rea’s shittiness as a teacher and everything being bad leads to kira falling to the dark side... its angst lads.

the new recruit - rusk’s squad adopts a kitten. that’s the fic.

cruel - ever wonder how things would have turned out if rea was never smuggled off eriadu and got plucked up by the sith?? no??? well i have and i wrote about it. the self-indulgence never ends.

fill my lungs with sweetness - a gift fic for @hoiist; flower-themed vignettes about doc expressing his love for hoiist’s knight, vii. this is some real soft shit, lads.

remember me, love - another gift fic for @hoiist; this time some ossus-flavored angst about doc seeing through vii’s eyes in his dreams. what he sees is not comforting!!! all aboard the angst train--choo choo!!

[druid-for-hire]

SO, this is PART 2 of that AU i have going where Orpheus gets locked up in the deepest & most remote part of Hadestown! i’ve decided to flesh out some more about orpheus and eurydice’s experiences before eurydice locates and rescues him ;)

(part i) (part ii) (you are here) (part iii) (part iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

OK

hadestown (the place not the musical) fucking sucks and because this place is even worse i don’t feel bad about kicking orpheus around

the pit has a real name now! thank you @fauxtoshop for suggesting The Great Beyond, and i’ll be abbreviating it to the Beyond. can’t believe i didn’t think of this but ur wonderful

and the AU itself has a name! thank u @signorbenedick for inspiring “unswayed au”

and thank you to @unholy-boi for providing me a clear vision of orpheus’ failure in what should have been epic iii

AIGHT? AIGHT. LETS GO

we put so much trust and faith in orpheus’ abilities that we forget what unbelievable stakes he was up against when he sang to the king of the underworld. there was no room for even a feather-light mistake in music’s unforgiving mathematical certainty.

and god how lucky he was to step exactly where he had to in the normal canon timeline

unholy-boi wrote me a beautiful passage of orpheus’ banishment:

For a moment, as Hades delivers the sentence, his voice shakes. If Orpheus were not so in-tune to voices and tones, he wouldn’t have noticed. He barely catches it, even then. The boy’s head sticks to the ground, and his heart feels like it might drop through the center of his chest. One off note, one faltered line, one stumble, is all it takes. A song that just barely fails, and a rumor that teases the God’s ears and taints the mortal’s reputation.

Despite Hades’ momentary tremble, he proceeds. He makes good on his hateful promise, the one soaked in rage, and the shackles materialize around Orpheus’ wrists. Hadestown is silent. All eyes are on the event. Hades can’t meet any of them, especially not Persephone’s. He keeps his stare on Orpheus. Orpheus, who has the audacity to lift his head up, and give a shaking “Wait”, as though to start one more song, before those shackles pull him through the ground. Hades turns his eyes away.

Hades turns, and he walks away, and he locks the doors behind him. And Hadestown falls back into its wretched rhythm.

they’ve given me permission to make a minor tweak for this au:

the chains don’t just materialize. orpheus’ voice fails, and hades’ eyes narrow, and the workers’ hearts break, and they step forward to shackle him wrist to wrist to be dragged into the depths of the earth.

they have to.

everyone give unholy-boi a hand! this is honestly a pretty beautiful passage

thank you to @strawberrieskies for helping me out w this bit:

orpheus’ imprisonment/banishment/whatever is a devastating blow to not only the people of hadestown but also persephone and hades’ relationship

persephone, enraged and heartbroken and This Close to completely walking out on her husband, does her absolute damndest to help the unfortunate lovers

even she doesn’t know where orpheus has gone. but: she catches shreds of his voice from the walls echoing his songs in the most distant parts of central hadestown

she catches these dying dregs, sends them on a spring wind to eurydice’s ears

eurydice is fueled by the two hopes of the surface world and orpheus’ song. persephone makes sure she does not forget to look for him. 

she hears him calling where orpheus failed to hear her

persephone’s meanwhile rampage—created and spurred on by orpheus’ imprisonment—has its own effect on hadestown. the speakeasy keeps its attendance, but she rages through the factories and causes upheavals with the foremen, and her determined absence from hades’ side gives him grief. hades takes this out on his workers.

how that manifests, i’m not entirely sure; i’m inclined to think he pushes the workers harder, which in turn enrages persephone even more, and it’s kind of a cycle

initially, when she’s asking around and searching through places where normally nobody goes, eurydice gets a lot of suspicion and weird looks, refusals for aid

but she still finds kind souls. ones who can’t give her directions or info but offer a place to stay because the way back to where she bunks is so far. an extra coin. spare food.

as eurydice keeps searching, word of her spreads

more folks are willing to take care of her

more doors open to her

more hands are willing to help

more ears are willing to listen

more eyes are willing to look

more heads are willing to question

and eurydice is sowing persephone’s seed for riot

there’s reason why Orpheus can’t sing his way out, and that reason is the forewoman/guard of the Beyond

the guard and forewoman is a vicious lady, whose loyal hounds always follow at her feet, armed with a pistol to scare em straight, brass knuckles on one hand and two decorative claws on the other.

she's oldest living thing in the underground. she’s older than even hades or persephone. she used to be a prison warden before she was the forewoman of the pit, but lbr the job description’s hardly changed

and she's deaf. the reactions of her dogs make up for detecting sounds, which certainly means she knows when orpheus is trying to run for it. and him trying to charm the dogs will definitely get her attention. 

and orpheus can sing nothing to sway her 

her name is kampê, who was, in the myths, the guard of the imprisoned Cyclopes and Hekatonkheires in Tartarus (deep abyss and prison for the wicked) in the beginning of the world, long before the gods were born

yeah all of u calling this place tartarus... u feel me

Orpheus definitely makes repeat attempts at escape, which definitely means she kicks his ass more than once

the Beyond has a clinic, actually, but it’s small and only enough to keep the workers going when they get injured. it treats the basic things and can only do so much

orpheus ends up there multiple times for relatively minor things and one time after a particularly nasty slash on his arm from kampê 

(that’s the injury eurydice spots)

and part of the reason the Beyond is so outdated is just... it’s so fucking far away for one, two, hardly anybody actually knows where it is and it’s practically on its own, cut off from the rest of hadestown aside from the occasional ferry of materials/supplies, and the “road” to and fro is hardly a road at all

the newest thing is a set of power lines that are dangerously decrepit, despite the workers’ best efforts of keeping them in top notch order

the workers do occasionally alternate jobs

orpheus has been on the power lines before and hooooly shit it is... dangerous and frightening

he had the lovely privilege of being traumatized when he saw someone get shocked and fall from the lines

it was a loud pop, a taser’s sizzle times thousandfold, an explosion of light and acrid flesh-smoke

and they fell

the other few workers just... turned their heads away, maybe one or two took them out to the clinic to see if they can do anything. otherwise the others on the lines just kept going like nothing happened. 

so orpheus too.

(if you want to keep your head)

oh and speaking of: the other workers, obviously there to overhear every time orpheus scampers off to sing for help, are there to bear witness as his voice slowly fails him. it’s a little soul-crushing and a reminder that this place sucks the life out of anything that dares to try to grow past the cracks of the concrete, to speak in metaphors

orpheus probably sings his own reprise of Flowers, having forgotten Eurydice as much as she once forgot him

with the nature of his heart and soul, it’s taking a long and longer time to break his spirit and his back, but he still erodes, and that’s enough. his eyes start to fade. he forgets his name. his melodies slip from his lips

(but sometimes, sometimes, a measure of a forgotten song will appear again, and if he follows it, his muscle memory knows how to pick it up from there)

there’s a point where he’s practically forgotten everything besides the love motif (the la la la la la la la) so that’s all he’s singing when he’s singing for help

and suddenly eurydice hears a wrong note, sung like a question

and suddenly he’s forgetting that too

tune in next time for part three! 

(part i) (part ii) (you are here) (part iii) (part iv) (pt. v) (epilogue) (askblog)

[im-a-writer-sometimes]

A Thousand Years (Part 2)

Part 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warnings: language, mentions of depression, death

Description: Basically the events of IW and Endgame, but so much angstier

---

2023

"And remember, you need to bring back the stones exactly where they were taken, otherwise you'll open up a bunch of nasty alternate timelines."

Steve nodded in understanding, looking to where Bucky and I stood. I offered him a small smile, and he made his way over to us.

He pulled me into an embrace, pressing a soft kiss on my hair. He turned to Bucky and smiled sadly. It seemed as though they knew something I didn’t.

“Don’t do anything stupid until I get back,” Steve quipped.

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you,” Bucky responded, but there wasn’t a hint of humor in his tone.

They pulled each other into a hug, and Steve said something to Bucky that I didn’t catch.

And then Steve was standing on the platform, and Bruce was flicking the switch, and Steve was gone.

"And bringing him back in 3... 2... 1..."

Nothing happened. Bruce pressed a few more buttons, but Steve wasn’t returning.

I felt Bucky grab onto my hand and I look up at him confused. He just smiled sadly and pulled me into his side, wrapping an arm around me.

“Bring him back!” I heard Sam bark at Bruce, but the scientist seemed utterly clueless of what had happened.

Bucky made his way over to Sam, trailing me behind him. I followed his gaze as he pointed to a man sitting beside the lake. As soon as my eyes fell on the man, I understood what Steve had done. My heart sank, but I understood his decision. I wrapped my arms around Bucky’s waist as Sam walked over to Steve, squeezing him comfortingly.

---

2018

“Bucky, one of your goats is eating our lunch!” I said, turning to look at the picnic we had abandoned.

“Shit!” He said, jogging towards the picnic blanket. I just laughed. We had been on a picnic when we decided on an impromptu game of soccer. Clearly that was a poor decision.

I watched in amusement as he shooed the goat away, cleaning up what remained of our lunch. He caught my gaze and frowned.

“You think this is funny?”

“No, of course not, babe,” I assured, walking towards him to help. “I think this is fucking hilarious.”

“Ha. Ha.” He said, dryly, but I could hear a hint of amusement in his tone.

I looked down at my Kimoyo beads, pulling up the time.

“Hey, if we hurry, we could probably have lunch with Shuri. She usually takes a lunch break around now.”

Bucky packed up the trash into the picnic basket, and nodded. I intertwined my fingers with his as we made our way towards the palace.

Being in Wakanda with Bucky was a dream come true. While he was in Cryo, I stayed with Steve, Sam, and Nat. But now that he was back, I didn’t want to be anywhere else.

Before we could make it back, we caught sight of T’Challa and Okoye walking towards us. We passed Buck’s cottage, coming to meet them just outside the front door.

T’Challa set down a case, opening up to reveal a metal arm, black with gold accents, undoubtedly made by Shuri. Bucky’s eyes closed briefly.

“Where’s the fight?”

T’Challa sighed, looking between us.

“On its way.”

---

We turned to see Thanos appear, stepping out of a portal.

Shit.

I turned to look at Wanda, heart breaking for her. She knew what she would have to do. It was our job to hold of the Titan until she did.

Thanos had no problem taking each of us down; it was like child’s play to him. But it stalled him enough that Wanda had time to destroy the stone. I breathed out a sigh of relief from where I lay on the ground, watching as the stone shattered.

I reached for Bucky who was collapsed next to me, grasping his hand. My exhaustion had finally caught up to me.

“No…” Bucky muttered, and I turned to look at Thanos, who was rewinding the stone’s destruction, thanks to the Time Stone.

Wanda cried out just as Vision was brought back to life. Before any of us could stop him, he wrenched the stone out of Vision’s forehead, placing the final piece on his gauntlet.

“No!” I scrambled to my feet, and rushed in his direction, entirely unsure of what the hell I was going to do. Before I made it to him, he was hit with a blast of lightning. I stopped in my tracks, and looked up as Thor hurled Stormbreaker directly into Thanos’ chest. I collapsed to my knees, watching as the god pressed the weapon deeper into the Titan’s torso.

“You should have gone for the head.”

I heard those words leave his mouth and saw him lift his arm, and screamed.

Everything went white. A blast of energy knocked me on my ass. By the time my vision cleared, Thanos has disappeared.

“Y/N?”

I turned and scrambled to my feet as Bucky approached me. He stumbled slightly and I caught him.

“Buck, what’s wrong. Bucky?”

His eyes locked on mine, as his left arm started to turn to dust.

“No.”

I desperately grasped onto him, but I was left with nothing but air as he drifted away.

“No, no, no, no. No!”

I fell onto my knees, shaking hands touching the pile of dust left on the ground. It continued to happen all around me; my friends turning into dust. But I couldn’t look up. My eyes remained glued to the ground.

I screamed, wrenching my eyes shut and wrapping my hands around myself. And I sobbed. This wasn’t real. This couldn’t be real. I’d already lost him once; this couldn’t be happening again. Over my sobs, I heard Steve’s quiet voice.

“Oh my god.”

---

“It’s been twenty-one days since the snap…”

Rhodey’s voice drifted off as my mind wandered. I stared at nothing in particular. I should’ve been paying attention, helping the team figure something out, but I couldn’t. He was gone. Again. My mind flashed back to the day he fell off the train, the day I thought I had lost him. My heart had broken in half, but then I found him once more, and he fixed it. Now, it had broken all over again, and something in me knew it would stay that way.

There was no going back. There was no rewinding the clock. I shut my eyes as the image of him turning to dust resurfaced. I quiet sob escaped my lips and the team turned to look at me. I got up without a word, and walked out of that room. I couldn’t stand being in there for another moment. 

“Y/N.” I heard Steve’s voice behind me.

“Don’t, Steve. Don’t tell me we’re going to bring them back. Don’t lie to me! They’re gone. They’re gone. He’s… he’s gone, Steve. What’s the point in fucking trying? There isn’t a point, okay? So, just do whatever the hell you want. Pretend you can bring them back, but leave me out of it, because I don’t think I can stand my heart breaking anymore.”

And I kept walking, going back to my room to sleep.

Steve turned to look at Nat, who had also followed me out, his shoulders sinking.

“She just needs time, Steve.”

He turned to look in the direction I had gone in, nodding slightly.

---

The next five years were hell. I barely ate. I slept most of the day. I only interacted with Steve, Sam, and Nat, and only when they interacted with me first. I was miserable. It was hard finding a reason to wake up in the morning. So, I stayed in bed. And cried. 

Every now and then, Steve would manage to drag me out of my room. And for a few moments, I would forget. But then I’d go to bed, and feel the cold sheets next to me, and it all would come crashing back in. 

But then Tony came to compound, and he had figured it out. Time travel. He had a way to turn back the clock. To bring them back. To bring him back. At first, I hated it. That familiar, dreaded feeling of hope filled my gut and I wanted it gone. Hope had been slowly killing me for the past five years. But then I thought, there was a chance. A small one, but a chance nonetheless. The thought of feeling his arms around me again was enough to agree to help. I imagined looking into those pale blue eyes again, and I didn’t have an option.

I stood on the platform, in between Nat and Clint, grasping Nat’s hand as Bruce flipped the switch. And then we were traveling back in time, and into space. And we were on Vormir. We thought it was going to be easy. That we would pick up the stone and leave, but it wasn’t that simple.

“An everlasting exchange. A soul for a soul.”

The words echoed in my head. I sat next to Nat as Clint paced, none of us saying a word. I took in a breath, standing up.

“I think you both know who it has to be,” I said, running my sweating palms along my pants. They both nodded.

“I think we do,” Nat agreed.

She took my hand into hers, grabbing Clint’s as well.

“I’m starting to think we mean different people here,” Clint commented.

I smiled, looking down at the ground. I pushed past them, but Clint grabbed my arm.

“It’s not gonna be you, kid.”

“I’ve spent the last five years imagining this. I never thought we would come this close. But now we’re here.”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice your life to bring him back, only for you to never see him again.”

I turned to look at Nat, squeezing her hand.

“And so I’m supposed to let you die? No. I’m not letting that happen. Neither of you are dying.”

“It’s gotta be me,” Clint said, and we both turned to look at him. “You know what I’ve become.” “Well, I don’t judge people on their worst mistakes,” Nat countered.

“Maybe you should.”

“You didn’t.”

While they were distracted, I stuck my leg out, knocking their feet out from under them. 

“Tell Bucky I love him,” I said, rushing towards the cliff’s edge.

I fell as I was hit in the back with a Widow’s Bite. Nat came into my line of vision, stopping briefly.

“Tell him yourself.”

I rushed after her, pulling her to the ground. I stood up, but Clint fired an explosive arrow to my left, sending me to the ground. He started running and I watched in horror as she launched herself after him.

“NO!” I screamed as both my friend’s went over the cliff’s edge.

I crawled to the ledge and breathed out a sigh of relief as I saw they hadn’t fallen, but were suspended, Clint holding onto Nat. I was about to haul them both up when Nat pushed her feet against the rock, letting go of Clint’s hand.

I screamed as she hit the ground. I felt utterly helpless. It’s like I was there just to watch.

A broken sob fell from my lips, but before I could properly grieve, I was suddenly somewhere else. Kneeling in a pool of water next to Clint. I watched as he opened his hand. 

And there it was. The soul stone.

---

By the time we made it back to the compound, Clint was holding me as I sobbed. Everyone else watched as Clint and I stayed on the ground.

“Where’s Nat?” Bruce asked. 

Neither of us answered. Neither of us needed to. I started sobbing harder as everyone else around us realized what had happened.

She was gone.

Nat was gone.

---

I watched in quiet anticipation as Bruce put on the gauntlet. I abruptly stood up as he cried out, the energy from the stones coursing through his body.

“Take it off!” Thor yelled, but Steve stopped him before he could do anything.

“Wait, Bruce are you okay?”

Bruce nodded, falling to his knees. I held my breath as his middle finger and his thumb drew closer. And then he snapped. 

We all rushed towards him as he collapsed, but he was okay. Without injury? No. But alive? Yes. I let out a breath, turning to see Scott staring out the window.

“Guys, I think it worked.”

And then it all went to shit.

We brought them back, just in time for Thanos and his army to show up. How? I don’t know. But that ugly-ass grape seems to ruin fucking everything.

I stood beside Steve, facing the army ready to march against us. If this was how I was going to go, I was fine with that. At least I had Steve by my side. I held out my hand, and he met my gaze, taking a firm hold of it. We were ready.

“On your left.”

My heart nearly stopped at the voice that sounded through the comms. We both turned to see a yellow ring of light appearing. My breath caught in my throat as I saw Okoye, T’Challa, and Shuri emerge. And then Sam flew over them, and I fell to my knees. This was too good to be true.

I watched in awe as more rings appeared, Avengers stepping through. Everyone we had lost, suddenly there again. I stood up, looking at Steve, before frantically searching through the crowd that was forming. More and more rings were appearing and he had to be somewhere. I ran, in no one direction, approaching the different rings, searching for his face. I came to a stop when I finally saw him. 

There he was.

Exactly as he had been five years ago. Marching through one of the portals. When he caught my gaze, I took off. He dropped his gun as I launched myself into his arms. I was sobbing, tears wetting his jacket. I let him hold me, and I realized I’d forgotten how amazing it was to be held by him.

“I missed you,” I managed through the tears. “So fucking much.”

“I know, doll,” he said, and I let out another cry at the sound of his voice. The voice I hadn’t heard in five years. “I know.”

I pulled away, holding his face in my hands. My face broke out into a tearful smile, and I laughed. He smiled back, leaning down and pressing a kiss on my forehead.

“Well, that was a touching reunion.” We turned our head to see Rocket, arms crossed. “But if you don’t mind, we have an army to fight.”

“Right,” I muttered, turning to look back at Bucky. “Together?”

He nodded.

“Together.”

---

“He told you what he was gonna do, didn’t he?” I asked as we walked away.

Bucky nodded, smiling at me sadly.

“And you were okay with it?”

He sighed, staring off into the distance.

“At first, no. The thought of him leaving me, it honestly made me mad, you know? But then I remembered that I wouldn’t be alone.”

I smiled at this.

“I’ll always have Sam.”

I slapped his arm and he laughed.

“I didn’t miss that,” I said.

“What?”

“Your shitty jokes.”

“Yeah, you did,” he chuckled.

I shook my head at him.

“Yeah… I did.”

We continued walking, hands interlaced. I rested my head against his arm, smiling at the feeling of having him close again. Suddenly, he stopped, turning to face me.

“So, how are we gonna do this, huh?” He asked.

“What?”

“I don’t know. All of it. I mean, we’ve always had Steve, and now we’re… alone. And clueless.”

“We’ll do it how we’ve always done it.”

“And how’s that?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.

I stood on my tiptoes, placing a soft peck on his lips.

“Together.”

[readbythestarlight]

c2e85

Ohhhh boy here we go guys

Liam...?

I don’t

Ah

Ricky and Morty

“The chained oblivion, no big deal” Matt Plz

A dark elf floating six or seven inches from the ground. I don’t like how familiar that sounds.

[[MORE]]

28. Christ.

YOOOOO Pumats gonna fight!

BE SAFE PUMATS

or... not? xD

lol gets up on the counter because the rest of them are

He gonna heal??

He gonna... make them invisible?

NICE made my boy Cad invisible but he had still fight

Pumat looking after his fellow firbolg

I love when they panick go invisible xD

Gonna hide on the bookshelf lol Nott

Ooooo bola shot I like that

Yay bane!

This is gonna be a long slow fight

Nice job Cad, canceling that crit

Ffffuck didn’t cancel the crit fuck

93?! FUCK

NO

MATTHEW

YOU CANNOT KILL NOTT AGAIN

JFC

Oh my GOD I hate everything

Cad getting Nott back up yay!

STUNNED YEAHHHH

Not hang on Matthew STUNNED

Okay okay okay this isn’t as bad as it could be...

Banishing smite?

Oh fuck her

YAAAAS FJORD

BANISH HER TO HER HOME plane

bitch slapped her onto another plane lol

I like Cad’s little defensive stuff. He’s such an excellent support.

Also okay so aside from her high damage attacks this assassin doesn’t seem as terrible as I feared so... what’s the catch? Because something awful is def gonna happen.

PS: “that doesn’t happen every day”

Cad: “it does to us”

I’m glad she left but I do NOT like that she can just sneak up on them at any time

PS: “And now they know where I live...”

N: “You could burn down the store, start fresh?”

PS: “I like where you’re going with that, but I might wanna save that for a last option.”

Pumat has some kind of knowledge about

Pumat can MIND CONTROL?

PUMAT GONNA HELP THEM FREE HER MAYBE?

Poor Laura :(

PS: “not like you burned it down or anything.”

Free shield, nice!

Pumat is a sweet guy I love him and I’ve missed him

Freeloading their way into a short rest lol

Jester for the love of the Traveler do NOT go in there as your mom

FJORD do not encourage this

Beau assuring Jester that she supports HER just not the idea is SO sweet

JESTER oh my god

WHISPERS

Cad’s gonna know before Jester does

Ooh dear their description has gotten back to the other side of the mountains

MOAR WHISPERS

I like how they’re pulling literally everyone they know, pretty much every ally they’ve ever made into this

I’m honestly glad The Gentleman isn’t interested in getting involved. It suits his character well.

EVEN MOAR WHISPERS

Jester’s real sad

Like she really was hoping it was him

(And it still could be, we don’t know what Cad perceived)

Oh god Jester

Oh honey

Poor Jester

xD the Tal’dorea council question strikes again

Aw Jester :(

J: “but if he doesn’t want me then I don’t want him it’s fine.”

F: “....we’re glad to have you.”

J: “I’m glad to be here.”

B: “Sometimes found family is better anyway.”

Shit wait fuck

“You should tell her”

IS HE ACTUALLY HER DAD??

holy shit y’all

oh lord Nott had a crush on Caleb??

HOLY SHIT

BEAU ADMITTED SHE HAS A CRUSH ON JESTER

Oh shit the BeauJester fans have been fed tonight

Laura is laying there giggling lol

That’s super sweet that Beau is crushing on her man

I mean I’m still so BeauYasha but

Oh boy okay who is this

Oh it’s him

Oh my GOD

here we go oh god

Also what if he’s her uncle not her dad? He mentioned having a brother...

Oh my GOD HE IS HER DAD

I CANNOT BELIEVE

GENTLEMAN BACKSTORY

I can’t believe I’m having Gentleman feelings

I wanna hug him

Oh god that’s so SAD

He sounds like he still kinda loves her too HELP ME

I’m CRRYYYYING

I’m really sad man

“She loves you. You should have trusted her. I don’t know... I don’t know how you guys could make it work or anything, but... [missed]. She’s never loved anyone since. Just you.”

Operation: Get Marion and the Gentleman Back Together.

TG: “Jester I’m not your father. Any man can have a child. Any man who isn’t around to help raise them doesn’t get to call themself a father.” Owww.

I think you should tell Marion and let her decide. She hasn’t had any say in all of this, I think it’s time she did.

I cannot believe I’m so emotional about the Gentleman.

Jester has this perfect little fairy tale for her parents and I’m literally just sitting here crying you guys

J: “Hey dad, next time I’m in town? Let’s play some Uno.” Crying and laughing and crying.

I stg if he and Marion don’t get their happy ending I’m gonna be SAD

Time to go after Yasha?

Oh dear...

Okay though if it’s addressed to Nott the Brave it’s not from Astrid

Maybe it’s from Caliana or someone again

The looks all the others are wearing

Like Beau’s face

This recording thing couldn’t possibly backfire at all xD

These hijinks omg

I can’t handle it first I’m worried then I’m emotional/crying about Jester and now I’m cracking up

Oh no oh god

Don’t hurt Pumat Sol Matthew I will not forgive you

oh my GOD MATT that PAUSE

Oh my god wait their lie somehow WORKED??

So she lives in Trent’s little compound essentially.

“Oh god it’s her” lol oh Pumat

I love him man he’s a soft boy

Oh dear...

Caleb getting overwhelmed mid trying to plan was excellent I love that call Liam

WHAT

PUMAT IS GONNA TRAVEL WITH THEM?

No no no what if he dies??

DO NOT GET MY COW MAN KILLED

it’s so sweet that he offered I ADORE HIM

I can’t believe he just straight up planned to come with them he was already packed

Like all these othe powerful allies are like “I’ll look into things while y’all do the actual dangerous work” and Pumat Sol is the one who decides he’s going to come and help

We stan two (2) cow men and they are Caduceus Clay and Pumat Sol

I’m really nervous about this though like heading to Rexentrum? Are they ready for this? Is CALEB ready for this??

Oh no Krynn attack that’s bad

I hope it’s not the Krynn

Call Essek find out

Oh god if they help stop the Krynn tho and it gets back to Xhorhas somehow

They’ll never see Essek again and I will CRY

I’m suuuuuper worried about Caleb

Like SUPER concerned look at his face he’s not at all prepared for this

This is definitely a false alarm there are no Krynn

Oh fuck what if Obann is coming for this Colbalt Soul

I am anxious

Go back down Caleb!

Why would you not go back up with the others

Nott, Nott HONEY

Not now!

It’s not the Krynn I will eat my hat if it’s really the Krynn

“Angel’s Eye” oh no

Cardinal Respa?

How far does this conspiracy spread I wonder

“The thing below and the path to it” fuck

“Diversions are already in place” knew it

Oh fuck

Pelor, the temple of the dawn father?

Oh shit they spent so much time in the happy fun ball that the timeline is messed up and this is happening NOW

Fuuuuuck

Oh god they are in it now

Like man even having warned so many allies it’s too late it’s happening NOW

I thought I was stressed last week but nope

Love you too Matt

IS IT NEXT THURSDAY YET?!

This episode in a nutshell: fighting an (immortal?) assassin; Jester’s dad; mail hijinks; TIME TO STOP THE END OF THE FUCKING WORLD

[carnivalsoration]

Cronus Gets Tortured, and then Learns Some Stuff about Boundaries and Identity

I’m going to start all this off with an ooc description of things, because this gets pretty intense in bits. A tldr with added trigger warning, if you will. 

Ringleader messages Cronus about being an insensitive prick regarding the ‘gutterblood rights’ post, then the conversation moves on to lusus death (a la, what was going on with Meulin at the time, though she’s not mentioned directly at all), how wasteful Alternia is, and then on to torture. During that talk, there’s a lot of mentions of parent/animal death, then referring to people as objects that can be disposed of, in an abstract sense, and then obviously, Harming and Killing people, for Fun and Dubious Amounts of Profit. 

Ringleader convinces Cronus it would be no big deal to torture him for a bit, and doesn’t take no for an answer. (Manipulation, coercing, lack of respect for boundaries.) And then they meet up! Cronus is waterboarded, Ringleader is way lighter about it than he really should be, primarily in the confession he forces Cronus to make, and then they make out! Weird, but these two are who they are.

Cronus presses more, hoping for sex to happen. Ringleader says no. Cronus says ‘but whyyyy’ and Ringleader gets pissed about it. A conversation about consent and rape occurs, that leads into highblood standards, respect, and who Cronus wants to be and what he values. 

This is a Very dense log, y'all, with a lotta intense stuff. Two kinda shitty people meeting, and one of them trying to make the other Less shitty, with some admittedly poor judgement. Overall, a Dubiously happy, or at least thought provoking, ending.

Anyway! If that sounds like you would enjoy reading it, read on! If not, you now know a general plot synopsis and can avoid reading it while still knowing all relevant details! If the chat log appeals to you but the roleplay itself doesn’t, you can read that too! 

carnivalsoration honk

vwarlordvwanderlust hey there, babe!

carnivalsoration :o)

vwarlordvwanderlust vwhat's up?

carnivalsoration i will make out with you if you promise not to reblog that gutterblood pride post again.

vwarlordvwanderlust see, THIS is a bold and innovwativwe method more people should try.

carnivalsoration hahahahaha is that a yes

vwarlordvwanderlust you also could'vwe just asked. but too late, no take backs. hell yeah.

carnivalsoration hahahahahahahaha

vwarlordvwanderlust (also that's a joke. there are take backs. it's all just jokes. )

carnivalsoration good boy, thats a good ad on

vwarlordvwanderlust haha. i do my best.

carnivalsoration :o) i could explain why i don't want you to say it, if ya wanna hear it or you could guess, since i'm kinda curious

vwarlordvwanderlust i just figured it vwas annoying. you specified that particular post, and not the vword, is it the vword.

carnivalsoration it's the word and the implication it's. it's just the whole thing, brother the whole damn thing

vwarlordvwanderlust yeah? vwhat implication?

carnivalsoration for you this is an inconvenience for a bit. for other people, this is their life. you don't earn the right ta use that word by your glorified lowblood tourism

vwarlordvwanderlust huh.

> So he's not *that* Alternian. 🤔

carnivalsoration > Ooo motherfucker.

do ya get what i mean? you can't have pride about somethin that you're not even really a part of.

vwarlordvwanderlust it vwas a joke. but yeah for sure, OBVWIOUSLY.

carnivalsoration and what about it is funny? like, can you just explain it to me?

vwarlordvwanderlust it's okay to not get jokes.

carnivalsoration no, i wanna get it.

vwarlordvwanderlust it's just a dumb lowvblood thing people say, you knowv, that i'm saying, because i'm kinda a lowvblood, for nowv.

carnivalsoration huh. and that's... funny?

vwarlordvwanderlust > This is the worst thing that's ever happened.

i mean. it's just one of those things.

carnivalsoration aight.

vwarlordvwanderlust look they can't all be vwinners!!!!!!!!

carnivalsoration you reblogged it though, you thought it was pretty good

vwarlordvwanderlust vwe all havwe different tastes. anyvways.

carnivalsoration yeah. what would you do if ya lusus died?

vwarlordvwanderlust > Weird foreplay but okay. > Clowns.

be sad.

did you vwant a longer ansvwer, or did you just leavwe.

carnivalsoration oh, oops. i got distracted. but like. how much would it change your life

vwarlordvwanderlust a lot. but i mean. i'll need to leavwe him anyvways.

carnivalsoration fun fact. i killed my lusus

vwarlordvwanderlust oh. vwhy?

carnivalsoration cuz that was the tradition at the time. indigos wouldn't get orphaned before adulthood on the condition that when they became a subjug, they'd kill their lusus themselves. and so that's what happened. i hella slaughtered him. it was a mess hahaha

vwarlordvwanderlust haha. yeah.

carnivalsoration i'm just talkin at this point

vwarlordvwanderlust vwhy? i mean don't get me vwrong. i lovwe our talks.

carnivalsoration i just ponder things sometimes. i'm old, i got a lotta memories to peruse what's your alternia like?

vwarlordvwanderlust big question, chief. dunno howv to ansvwer that.

carnivalsoration how often do people murder their lusus

vwarlordvwanderlust i don't knowv. probably not a ton. seems like a vwaste.

carnivalsoration hahaha remember what i said the other night? alternia likes nothin quite so much as waste

vwarlordvwanderlust alternia is cutthroat and efficient. may not alvways be pretty, but hey. it gets the job done.

carnivalsoration hahahaha. wrong. healthcare that involves replacing limbs instead of mending. killin people for any old thing and raisin all new people, like i said. you coulda imprisoned them and got free labor. killin reproductive failures. because you can still make THEM work. that ain't efficiency.

vwarlordvwanderlust that's efficient! you don't need to deal vwith upkeep if you toss a thing in the garbage vwhen it breaks, same vwith people. mm.

carnivalsoration efficiency is using a tool as long as it's useful. killin other planets rather than enslaving them. using lowbloods as fodder in just the stupidest ways. you could have them maneuver big heavy things or control animals at the front line or whatever. also. mechanical limbs cost a lot in upkeep too, just as a bonus destroying rather than fixing is just a thing. it's all brute force casual sadism, gloating over enemies rather than just offin em. imagine all the hot babes that were offed cuz they broke an ankle. or cuz they were kinda stupid once or they puked killin somethin the first time, which is another way alternia wastes life. beaurocracy is a HUGE waste of time plus it makes ya wanna beat your brains out with the stack of paperwork ya have to do land and sea trolls in competition, which wastes highblood life on dumbass feuds underfeedin slaves and workin them to death way before their natural lifespan. food ain't that expensive

vwarlordvwanderlust evwery system has SOME flawvs.

carnivalsoration yeah, but alternia's is that it just loves waste it fuckin can't get enough of it fuck, i tortured and killed thousands of people when i coulda tortured them and then put them to work .... probably hundreds of thousands.... i wonder if i broke a million

vwarlordvwanderlust vwell. i assumed that vwas, you knowv. pleasure, not business. but vwe all havwe flavws.

carnivalsoration oh, it's both. the fact i did it for fun doesn't change the fact i was definitely expected to do it

vwarlordvwanderlust vwell the system gets stuff done.

carnivalsoration oh, the number of troll screams i heard... the number of crimes confessed.... so many confessed to crimes that we found out they didn't even commit! just to make the agony stop

vwarlordvwanderlust the probability of false confessions is actually ovwerplayed by certain rebellious type groups, it's still mostly good intel.

> You should know, you consume imperial propaganda religiously!

carnivalsoration .... i .......... i tortured them myself all the time three a night, at least for centuries there is a LOT of false confessions a LOT of time wasted researching the falsities

vwarlordvwanderlust is it most of them?

carnivalsoration oh yeah. like 70% of the info you get from any one person is likely to be false. sometimes more, sometimes less, and about 90% of the time, the truths they do tell aren't worth your time to even pursue

vwarlordvwanderlust so vwe need to be more selectivwe in vwho vwe torture and vwhat vwe ask.

> Bold of you to say we, there.

carnivalsoration i'm kinda curious where you got the info about how false confessions are overplayed OH SHIT. I SHOULD HELP YOU GET USED TO TORTURE SOUNDS

vwarlordvwanderlust okay the tone of those tvwo messages is vwildly different.

carnivalsoration i just get excited sometimes

vwarlordvwanderlust it's pretty common knowvledge used to counter rebel propaganda. the real number is like 1%. ...here, i mean. i'm not accusing you of lying. hey, maybe our timelines are different.

carnivalsoration hey, if you're so sure, i bet i could do non-destructive torture on you and get you to confess to something that isn't true.

vwarlordvwanderlust that sounds bad and not fun!

carnivalsoration one hour. it isn't even that long. plus imagine how impressed people would be to know you can withstand torture

vwarlordvwanderlust > You start typing: "okay this is vwhy evweryone assumed you're a serial k" > Hm. That last one is a good message, though.

you don't think i can.

carnivalsoration i don't think you can

vwarlordvwanderlust you're the expert, i guess.

> God it would be so fucking impressive though.

carnivalsoration but i don't know for sure, since timeline differences. i don't wanna spread false information, specially if it helps rebels

vwarlordvwanderlust > GOD THAT'S SUCH A GOOD POINT.

okay but it's gotta vwait six nights.

carnivalsoration how come?

vwarlordvwanderlust not because i'm putting it off or anything, because i'm in a rustie body.

carnivalsoration why does that matter? the people most frequently tortured are lowbloods and i did say i wouldn't damage you. no knives, no electricity, nothin

vwarlordvwanderlust huh. yeah, i guess so. vwhat'll you do?

carnivalsoration waterboard

vwarlordvwanderlust so not to be ovwerly critical but like.

are you going to cause BRAIN DAMAGE. this seems vwild.

carnivalsoration i'm an expert, would i cause brain damage in one of my friends just for kicks? look up how long the average rustblood can hold their breath. gimme that long. not even an hour, just a little bit

vwarlordvwanderlust one to tvwo minutes... vwe'll say tvwo. or three or vwhatevwer idc. you think this is THAT bad???

carnivalsoration yeah

vwarlordvwanderlust > If this guy ends up torturing you to death, even the like one person who'd care, wouldn't care after reading this conversation. This would be a dumb fucking decision. This is so stupid, you'd absolutely regret this, there's only one answer you could plausibly give.

yeah, okay.

carnivalsoration aight. i'll give ya new coordinates

vwarlordvwanderlust not gonna be a cool outdoorsy forest vwibe for this torture sesh? hahaha

carnivalsoration we could move it to inside in my block and then make out

vwarlordvwanderlust nice!

carnivalsoration right?? you get tortured, come out fine, and then get to make out. what a fuckin nice night, right?

vwarlordvwanderlust okay it's not the night you think vwill happen though. you're just humoring me. but you're vwrong, so

carnivalsoration i'll make out with you either way

vwarlordvwanderlust it vwon't come up, haha.

carnivalsoration :o* [coords.txt]

vwarlordvwanderlust > Swoon.

😘❗

vwait.

carnivalsoration :o?

vwarlordvwanderlust okay no this isn't me pussying out i promise it's just. my transportalizer pass is for like. me. so is my id. saness and mituna and people just like. got here, though.

carnivalsoration mmmm. aight, what's ya coords? also tell me where a big bathtub is

vwarlordvwanderlust okay, sorry to be all annoying. oh uh. okay yeah.

carnivalsoration chill out, i ain't fussed

vwarlordvwanderlust > This is rough, on account of, you know. Being kicked out of your hive. But it's probably best not to do it there anyways, so off you go, trespassing on abandoned properties to scope out the bathrooms. Eventually you find something good enough, fairly recently vacated, and send coordinates.

> This is going to be cool.

carnivalsoration > Fucking Arrive! You are trying not to be too excited about being able to torture someone, but you're still pretty hype. You have all the things you'll need. Plenty of water to waste, a cloth to wrap around his face, your recording app open on your phone to record when he isn't looking.

vwarlordvwanderlust > You're only about as nervous as you were before you went hunting (and that turned out so great).

> You grin and wave. This time, you lack any purple in your outfit, and your eyes are red, and you don't have fins, but you look basically the same.

"Hey there, doll. Howv's it going?"

> It's not stalling if it's just a little bit.

carnivalsoration "Pretty damn good so far. You aight gettin your clothes wet, or should we take em off?" You raise eyebrows at him a few times. Waggle.

> Don't be too eager, Makara.

vwarlordvwanderlust > You pull on your shirt, thinking about no just kidding it's always good to take off your shirt. You're vulnerable enough without taking off your pants, though.

"This alright vwith you, doll?"

> You can eyebrow waggle with the best of them. Hitting on people is good.

carnivalsoration > Touch a tit. "Nice." Hitting on people Is good.

> You pull out a scrap of fabric and smile. "Lemme blindfold ya, brother." You're thinking about things that are ridiculous enough that it'll make it funny to confess to but that he won't be offended about later.

vwarlordvwanderlust > Nice.

> See, the thing is that this is such a good and valid sexy scenario if you forget about the torture that's definitely going to happen.

"Sure, yeah."

> You cooperate with a nervous laugh.

carnivalsoration > Blindfold: On. You make sure to adjust it just right, so he can't see you. "I'm going to lead you to the tub now," you say, softly.

> And you do, gently, and telling him to mind the ledge. All you really need is a drain. And water, of course. But you've got that.

vwarlordvwanderlust "Gotcha."

> It's surprisingly disorienting, being led around a fairly unfamiliar environment blindfolded, even for such a short distance. You're already feeling a little nervous about this.

> Maybe the professional torture guy who got people to say stuff that went against their own interests knows what he's talking about with regards to torture?

> But maybe you're just an unstoppable badass. Probably that second one.

carnivalsoration > You lead him in and direct him to lay down. You're very calm and reassuring.

> And then you try to place your camera on a ledge so it peers down at Cronus, get in the tub on top of him to pin him down. You'll try to grab his wrists, place them above his head, grab them with one hand. And one of his horns too. You'll narrate your actions the whole time.

> Damn, indigos are strong when you're a rustblood, him actually resisting you is a bit like him resisting really fleshy iron.

vwarlordvwanderlust > You cooperate, maybe metaphorically dragging your heels a bit, but, oh, no you aren't, fuck this dude is strong.

> FUCK this would be hot if it wasn't for this.

> You're a little wiggly, but not like you're necessarily trying to get away (not that you could), more like you keep wanting to look around.

> It's a lot harder to keep your face casual without the reminder of eye contact, for some reason.

> It's just a couple of minutes, though! It's fine! You Have Never Been Calmer.

> (It'd be really funny if your light hyperventilating made you pass out before he did anything. Funny for some people, at least.)

carnivalsoration > Oh how fucking precious that is. He's so cute, and he doesn't even verbally object. Plausible deniability!

> You grin a little bit where he can't see. "Your three minutes starts now."

> You pull out a gallon jug of water from your dex and start pouring it over his nose and mouth. It looks so ridiculous for being as effective as it is, considering it quickly starts to feel like he's barely keeping his head above water.

"Cronus, did you make me a cookie?" You ask down sternly at him. Not loud, not aggressive per se, but definitely authoritarian.

vwarlordvwanderlust > Blblbr?!?

> Okay this is bad actually.

> You thrash a little, reflexively, but don't get far. You try to shake your head but, uh, can't.

"No--?"

> Boy the water sure just keeps happening. It's a good thing your body inherited reflexes to not breathe water, or this would have been over very fast, since you'd already be coughing it up onto the floor.

> This is a really bad thing but it's not for very long. It's fine!

> The nice thing about being tortured is you're too distracted to worry about keeping a straight face.

> The bad thing about being tortured is all the other stuff. :(

carnivalsoration > Oh, hey, he didn't immediately submit. That's fine. Patience is all you need. The water keeps up in a steady stream. "You did, didn't you. Don't lie to me, you did make me a cookie. Didn't you?!"

> A forceful tone of voice and persistence is all you need. Soon he'll be too disoriented to do much more than choke and agree with you.

vwarlordvwanderlust ==> Cronus: choke and agree with him.

> This was a terrible idea!

> (Wow, Cronus, if only there was any way of knowing that.)

> Your panicked failing gets a little more forceful, but not any more effective.

"Stop, yes--"

> You're dying, he's killing you, you're going to drown here and nobody will ever know what happened.

carnivalsoration "And just what happened to that cookie, Cronus?" You accuse. "Did you fucking eated it??" Oh messiahs bless, saying that with a straight face is so funny. So hard.

"Don't you dare fucking lie, did you Eated my Cookie?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > You already said yes! You really will definitely die at his hands. AaaaaaAAAAAAAAAA

"Yes, I did, stop,"

> Your lungs don't feel right, but you don't know if there's actually water in there or if you're just freaking the fuck out without haviing gills, so it feels different.

> Glub glub,

> When you get back in your right mind, you'll be mad. This is the dumbest thing imaginable

carnivalsoration > Okay, now to get to the aftercare portion so no one thinks you're evil or whatever.

> You stop pouring water, captchalogue the jug, and get out of the tub. Then you help him sit up, lean forward. "Alright, now. Cough. Get it all outta ya."

> ..... Grab your phone. Fuck you hope that recorded the right angle.

vwarlordvwanderlust > Water, water everywhere, the last thing you're ever going to feel is water-- no water.

> You're shivering, and coughing weird-- you don't know enough about this to know if it's normal for torture weird, though.

> When he gets you into a better position, you cough up a little more water than might be expected for someone else who this happened to. Probably you just tried to breathe a little more than most people.

> When you're a little less full of water, you   go for the blindfold, if he hasn't taken care of it already. Seeing is good.

carnivalsoration > Oh shit blindfold, better hide the phone! Captchaloguing is so convenient for slight of hand stuff.

> you help him with the blindfold, very helpfully, with no ulterior motives whatsoever, and then give him a little pat on the back.

"You did pretty well! Didn't beg, don't think you cried. Still definitely confessed though."

vwarlordvwanderlust > You're tearing up a little bit now, but it's probably just the coughing, because you don't feel anything about this. It's basically no big deal.

> You glare at him, looking about as threatening as a half drowned kitten.

"You tried to kill me!"

> You sound vaguely hysterical.

carnivalsoration "Nope, you weren't even close to death. If i had tried to kill you, i got a billion other different ways to do it and there'd be no try about it."

> Pat him a little more. Its okay dear Cronus, it's all okay.

vwarlordvwanderlust > Rub at your eyes with one hand and try to take deep breaths, the way you were taught to instruct a charge to do if they flipped out.

> If you actually thought it was an attempt on your life, you'd be running, for all the good it'd do you. You still think it got closer than he's saying, but.

"I'vwe gotta stop givwing myself chances to look like an idiot in front of you."

> You sound calmer, but not, you know. Calm.

carnivalsoration > You laugh a bit, waggle your brows. "I like idiots, if that helps." It probably won't. "Anyway, my respect for people ain't based on the sorta thing that you seem so down on yourself about, so you're basically in the clear on that front."

> Not on several other things, but what can ya do. If you're ringleader, try to be nice anyway.

vwarlordvwanderlust > 'You didn't look like an idiot, Cronus', would have been the correct response, but he tried.

> Hhhhhhh.

> You haul yourself shakily out of the tub.

"Thanks, babe. Good looking out. Excellent. Appreciate it."

> You look at your hands, remembering the ineffectual struggling, and shiver. But in like, a cool and nonchalant way, totally.

"Man. Rusties are, uh. Vweak, huh?"

> Not that you could necessarily beat twelve feet of clown in an arm wrestling match normally, but still.

carnivalsoration > Oh good, he actually got that little bit of empathy you tried to make happen. Yes, he is weak as a rusty, and that's how they feel all the time!

"Yeah. Bones are more fragile too. Pretty nuts, ain't it? I barely even felt you struggling."

> How much can you hammer things home before you make it obvious? .... Let's give it a try.

"Browns and yellows ain't much better, ya know. They kinda have to do whatever we want em to, one on one, unless they got real good psionic control." Which means Mituna can't easily say no to what you do, Fuckwit. .... If only you could say those words out loud. Can't seem too sympathetic, though, you're supposed to be a mean Alternian who is being nice to him for some reason.

> Plus or minus some waterboarding.

vwarlordvwanderlust "Haha, better to be on the other side of that one, I'vwe gotta say."

> Lowbloods are weak and it's funny. Not that you sound all that amused right this particular instant, but you'll be back to normal soon enough.

"Not an especially controvwersial opinion,  I knowv. Anyvways! That's good, I guess. Makes things easier to handle."

> Now you're into the fucking with your hair stage of emotional recovery, because it definitely got all messed up.

carnivalsoration > Hahaha yeah, better to be a coolblood, outnumbered a hundred to one. That's a good side to be on. Ha. Ha. Ha.

> You watch him fix his hair for several moments before you proceed to just. Fuck it up again. Ruffle ruffle ruffle.

"I won the bet. What do i get as a prize?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > Pout at him.

"C'mon, boss, vwhy you gotta be like that?"

> It's pretty fucking wild how this guy actually literally tortured you, admittedly at your request, but you're so willing to be his friend.

> You smile tentatively at the question, a far cry from your typical cocky smirk.

"I dunno, big guy. Vwhat do you vwant?"

> It COULD not be a come on, except that you kinda. Lick your lips and waggle your eyebrows. Just a little. A smidge. It's probably really casual.

carnivalsoration > You like teasing him, and you laugh when he pouts. "Ain't my fault you look cute with mussed hair."

> And then he licks his lips and waggles his brows in a way that reminds you of yourself, except that you like to go overboard with it like it's a joke so that people can brush it off without the whole thing being hella awkward.

> You chuckle a little more, tap his nose. "I'll save my spoils for another time, hmm? In the meantime, though."

> Bend over, pick him up by the ass, and just give him a big ol kiss on his lips.

vwarlordvwanderlust "Yeah, you really think it looks alright?"

> Preen. You're incredibly fucking vain, which is pretty obvious considering your everything about you, and you appreciate being called cute. Even if tough would be preferable.

> OH THIS IS A VERY GOOD THING!

> Kiss back with just a little more enthusiasm than technique, though it isn't like you're terrible. This is a good night. You should probably put your shirt back on eventually, but it's not a particularly high priority at the moment.

carnivalsoration > Oh, boi, you're always the teacher and the experienced one. Otherwise you might be annoyed to be in such a position yet again.

> .... Grope his ass, tho, check if its doin alright, and see how quick he is to learn how to make out good.

vwarlordvwanderlust > You relax into it before too long, less tongue aggression can only improve things.

> You're basically only alright.

> You nip at his lips with lowblood-dull teeth, and grin when he gropes you. You don't want to take your arms away from their position over his shoulders, or you'd return the favor.

> Nothing bad has ever happened to you and everything is great.

carnivalsoration > Oh, teeth always get a good reaction out of you, inexperienced or no. Son of a bitch, you didn't want him to actually have Power over you.

> .... Whatever.

> How long can you keep him entertained with just. A lot of making out.

vwarlordvwanderlust > :D

> Cronus Will Remember That.

> Who doesn't like teeth, though, really.

> Oh, so fucking long. For all that you claimed to be all about the orgasms earlier, you sure are happy to keep doing this!

carnivalsoration > You'll keep going for at least like five minutes. He's getting so into it, you half expect to feel something wiggling against your chest.

vwarlordvwanderlust > YOU'RE getting a little squirmy, but at least you're not an adolescent anymore, so nothing's happening downstairs. That he can feel, at least.

> ... This is really good but like. Maybe. You don't need both hands to hold yourself up.

> You try and reach for his crotch, but don't stop making out.

carnivalsoration > Your eyebrows actually raise at his bold move, and you pull away a couple so you can look at him. And look down at the reaching hand.

> Your bulge is Definitely not out.

"Lookin ta escalate, brother?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > You didn't think it would be, neither is yours, but this is how you get stuff to happen! You do it!

> You stare blankly at him.

"No, vwhy do you ask?"

> You may make some questionable "jokes" about lowbloods, but your deadpan delivery is pretty good.

carnivalsoration "Cuz I'm not!" You say, with a smile and a single fingergun.

> For quite a few reasons. One of which is that you're not really In The Mood. Another, you have to ask Saness for permission.

> But, most importantly, you want to hold that particular bit of encouragement for later.

vwarlordvwanderlust > ?????????????????????????

> You look a little crestfallen, but mostly baffled.

> Maybe being tortured and then crying about it and coughing up water at someone isn't overwhelmingly sexy.

> No, that's probably not it.

> You roll your eyes, but withdraw your hand, and prepare to go back to making out.

carnivalsoration > That's fine. You are gonna just make out a while and think ya thoughts.

> How long can he even go at this before he gets bored...

vwarlordvwanderlust > Not THAT long, as it turns out. A couple minutes later, you pull back.

"Okay but are you sure?"

carnivalsoration > Bitch.

"Would I say it if I wasn't sure?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "Maybe?"

> Your wide eyed innocent look isn't nearly as cute as you'd like to think, especially when it's about wanting to get in someone's pants.

"I'm just making sure, you knowv, people can change their minds, and that's okay if you ask me."

carnivalsoration "If I want to fuck you, you'll know. Because I will tell you, and then I will do it."

> Your voice isn't so friendly now.

vwarlordvwanderlust > Jeez, some people are so touchy. You'd raise your hands in surrender, but you're still a little worried that he'll drop you.

"Yeah, got it, good to knowv! It's good to be clear on stuff."

> ...Hm. Are makeouts even really the mood anymore? Why do actions have consequences???

carnivalsoration > You sigh, roll your eyes. "If you say no, what the fuck do you expect people to do? Ask you again, just to make sure?"

> Time to put the boi down. Things aren't that fun and he ruined it by being a shitheel.

vwarlordvwanderlust > :(

> This sucks.

> You pout, and the whine in your voice is definitely really cool and adult.

"I mean, I vwouldn't expect it, necessarily, but I vwouldn't make it a big deal..."

carnivalsoration > How fiercely do you have to glare to give him the full picture of the disdain you have for that whine and those words? You give it a shot for fucking sure. That is a hell of a nasty look.

"You think I'm makin a big deal out of it? I could be so much more overt with my anger and annoyance, motherfucker, I could make a real big deal outta it. My body is mine, my consent is mine, and I can do with it as little or as much as I mother fuckin please, do you understand me?"

> You step up on him with that last little bit, to loom over him. You are not pleased.

vwarlordvwanderlust > HhhhhhhHHHHHHH MAN IT'S NOT AS SEXY THAT HE'S BIG ANYMORE ACTUALLY.

> Wilt under the weight of that glare+loom combo, abruptly stepping back, hands up appeasingly.

"Hey hey, yeah, I get it."

> What's that last part you always forget? Oh, right.

"Sorry!"

> God this bastard is scary. You just want him to like you, this shouldn't be so hard!

carnivalsoration "What do you get? Tell me the lesson you learned. Don't just repeat after me, tell me why what you just said was fucked up."

> you are still looming.

vwarlordvwanderlust "You'd vwin,"

> Not probably a particularly promising start, but goddamn, this sure is the guy who tortured you VERY RECENTLY, huh.

"I get it, you can do vwhatevwer you vwant, I got it, that one vwas my bad."

> You may be the seadweller, but he's still more experienced than you, and four fucking feet taller. You stumble back another step, grinning nervously.

carnivalsoration > Ooh this motherfucker

"That ain't the POINT," you growl. "Try again. I got faith you can get this lesson. It ain't about me, it's about you."

vwarlordvwanderlust > It's not like he's pursuing you, and you feel like if you keep backing up you'll hit wall, which would really not help with the feeling safe thing, so you stop. Even though he growls, and it's fucking terrifying.

"I vwas annoying and pushy? And shouldn't be?"

> Your rising inflection makes it clear that you're definitely guessing, but at least it's an educated guess.

carnivalsoration "There's more to it than annoying." But you seem a little satisfied by that answer. "There's a lot fuckin more to it. You were pushy. People don't like bein round pushy people who don't respect their decisions. And that's the fuckin problem. You didn't respect my decision."

> How do you really drill this into him, you wonder...

vwarlordvwanderlust > Now you're a little defensive.

"I respected your decision! Look, I'm not doing anything nowv, am I?"

> Everyone always assumes the worst of you just because of all the things you do and say, and the person who you are.

carnivalsoration > Your expression gets tight and angry before you sit on the edge of the tub and put your head in your hands for half a second.

"Cronus Ampora," you say, softly. "Have you ever met someone who's been raped?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > What's. Your head snaps up to look at him, and you flush maroon, suddenly angry and upset, but still nervous. Off balance.

"I didn't-- I don't-- that doesn't havwe ANYTHING to do vwith this!"

carnivalsoration "Why not? Haven't you heard about all the people who said no, and then said yes reluctantly because they felt there would be consequences after. Or because they were pressured? And then they got fucked. When they didn't want to be. Someone's hands defiled their body and someone's bulge made them hate themselves. Have you never heard of that?"

> You look at him with deadly seriousness.

"So. Tell me. Have you ever met someone. Who has been sexually violated?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "... No. I mean, not. I don't think that's. That doesn't *happen* here."

> That kind of... crime? It's probably a crime sometimes. But it's not a Beforan thing.

> That's one of those big scary Alternian things.

> You've never heard of anything with a yes involved being called rape, though.

> You fuck with your hair more, no longer meeting his gaze.

carnivalsoration > You reach over, grab him, tug him towards you to make sure he looks you in the eyes.

"It happens everywhere. Everywhere anyone wants to have power over anyone else, or everywhere anyone feels they don't have to pay attention to the wants of anyone else."

> You look at him for two long moments of silence.

"If you ever want to meet a rape victim, keep doing what you did there. You'll make one. Violence doesn't have to be bloody or involve kicking and screaming to happen. Don't let it happen while you're not paying attention."

vwarlordvwanderlust "That's not..."

> You trail off kind of weakly.

"I vwouldn't make people do any-- I vwouldn't make people do that."

> You are, in fact, processing what he's saying, but it doesn't really sound like it, maybe.

"I'm not-- I'm a good guy!"

> The looming sensation of realizing the consequences of your past actions threatens to encroach on your feelings, but you beat that shit back with a stick. This was a rough enough night already, he doesnt need to basically call you a terrible person.

> Your voice is small and tentative when you speak next.

"Isn't it like. Important. For highbloods to, uh. Take things. If they vwant them, and they're tough and can havwe them?"

> You sound like you're trying to remember something from class, not like you're actually making an argument.

carnivalsoration > You watch him, watch expressions flit over his face as you let your words sink in. His question is an important one to figure out how to answer, you can't just say whatever comes to mind.

> It's a few moments before you respond.

"Taking things from others because you have the ability to doesn't change that it's stealing. Fucking someone because you can doesn't automatically make it consentual on their part. Conquest for someone is still torture for someone else. You can't be a good person and a victorious person at the same time, if you hurt someone to get there. People don't like someone and fear someone at the same time."

> You look at him seriously. You can't treat him like a kid, you can't treat him like a dick who doesn't matter. He's an adult who can make his own choices, and they are choices that will define him.

"You choose who you want to be. What you want to do with your power. Every choice you make opens some doors and closes others. You have more doors you can go through than lowbloods do, but but inevitably, you will define yourself by your actions. And you will define the opinions others have of you by them, and by what you do with the choices you have and the results that come of them."

> You hope he's getting the full power of your words. You definitely phrase them like they're important.

"You can take whatever you get your hands on. But shit like 'respect', like 'fondness', like bein liked, cannot be taken by force. It cannot just happen. You put effort into it, into the thoughts of feelings of others. Fear is easy to win. Disgust is easy to win. Easy to keep. Trust is what's hard to win, hard to keep. And, to me, hard things are generally worth earning."

vwarlordvwanderlust > He had you going for a second there. A while, even. You were listening with rapt attention, wide eyed, but.

> As persuasive as he is, as smart as he seems, there's an obvious hole in his argument, and he can't have missed it.

"People lovwe and fear the empress. Evweryone does. She vwants it all and she takes it, and she has it! I'm not trying to put myself on her levwel, but she's the trollish ideal."

> God, but you want to be liked.

"Do you... really believwe all this stuff?"

> You don't know what his motivations would be if he didn't, but.

carnivalsoration > You nod gravely at his question. "I speak the truth I've discovered through pain and trials, and I mean every word of it. Now, I want you to tell me something, and I want you to be thinkin real hard about yourself and about all those people you hang with."

> You raise a wry eyebrow. "Do you, personally, love the empress? Like you do, say, yourself. Or your lusus. Do you think all of your friends do? Go through em one by one, in your mind, see if you can find one that you think might not. You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. But I want you to be true to yourself, at the very fuckin least."

> You'll let that sink in for a moment, while you watch him.

vwarlordvwanderlust > You think about Mituna, broken and shoved into a padded cage by her policies, and grimace. . Other examples filter up through your mind more gradually, but his is the most salient.

"Vwell... evweryone respects--"

> You think about the fact that he was even broken in the first place because he was protesting her policies, biting the jeweled hand that fed him. He got what was coming to him, though...

> Your mouth settles into a stubborn line

"...Evweryone SHOULD respect the empress, if they're decent. Right?"

> Making such a tentative, heavily conditional statement at all in an argument, let alone then asking for confirmation, should probably be a sign that you're not really feeling it.

carnivalsoration "What is the difference, I wonder, between respect of somethin dangerous, like not playin with fire, and respect of someone's opinions because you value their input and believe they would value yours."

> He's so stubborn and so panwashed by all that propaganda, but he's slowly coming to important realizations that will shape him. And you're proud of him for it, it's sure not an easy thing to do.

"Decency is subjective. You gotta ask yourself what you think is decent. Gotta come to the conclusion, yourself, what you value in a person. Convictions are personal. I want to know what yours are, when you think about what you value most in a person."

vwarlordvwanderlust "You don't need to believwe someone vwould vwalue your input to respect their opinions. Eridan doesn't givwe a shit about anything I say, but he's a good kid and he knowvs lots of stuff."

> Mmm. You feel weird about all this. It's another elaborate test, and you've failed every single one he's given you before it.

"Vwhy do you vwant to knowv?"

carnivalsoration "Oh, but tell me if that makes you less likely to have meaningful conversations with him. Like the one we're having right now."

> Feeling weird is a normal part of this process. It sucks though. You don't like it either.

> You give him a wry smile at his next little question.

"Because I want to respect you, for your own sake."

vwarlordvwanderlust "Sure, I guess."

> Not that that proves anything.

> Hm. You look at him, really look at him, trying to gauge his sincerity.

> You continue to suck at that. Fortunately, you just assume he's sincere.

"I guess... Loyalty. Passion. Honor. Ambition, and uh, success too. It doesn't matter if you don't succeed, haha. Bravwery. The usual?"

> You don't sound especially certain, but then, it's not a question you've had cause to think about much. Not explicitly, at least.

carnivalsoration "I don't wanna hear about the usual. The expected answers. Those are buzzwords, words everyone likes and likes to think about themself. I want to hear somethin that could be individual to you. You ain't everyone. You're you. You got your own shit to bring to the table and I wanna hear what Cronus Ampora, specifically, values."

vwarlordvwanderlust "I don't..."

> This is a Big Question. Him first.

"Vwhat vwould you say, someone asked you that?"

> You have literally no clue. Maybe his answer will be inspiring.

carnivalsoration "I value people who have conviction but are open to change. I value people who respect thoughts different than their own, and can learn from things they don't experience. I like people who will hear me talk about my gods and not dismiss everythin I say. I like people who are thoughtful about their enemies as well as their friends. I like people who get angry. And I like people who can control their anger. I respect people who have knowledge but don't assume they know everything. I respect people who have been through shit but still know not to apply what they know universally, without context. I like people who are different from me."

vwarlordvwanderlust > Well, at the very least, you sure get angry.

"Vwowv, that's. A lot."

> You jam your hands in your pockets and look to the side.

"I dunno. I just. Like people vwho like me."

> That's the dumbest and truest thing you've ever said.

carnivalsoration > Welp, that didn't Quite work.

"What makes you dislike people?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "I guess I don't like it vwhen people..."

> 'Are mean to me'. Shit. You need a different one.

> Kick at the ground. This is so complicated.

"It's obnoxious vwhen people don't care about anything at all. There's so much *stuff*, and some people can't be bothered to pay attention to any of it. This is vworse than the torture, because it's making me face howv boring I am. "

> (Just kidding, you won't actually face that for a good while yet.)

carnivalsoration > You hum, consider him. "You're not boring. Not really. You're just... Not finished. You're like an artist and your canvas. And you've got all your outlines set up, but there ain't any color yet."

> Better continue on before he gets offended, delicate little shit. "Still, that's important, that thing you just said. You don't like people who don't care. So it follows that you're drawn to people who do care. Does it matter, to you, what they care about?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > Rude.

> But yeah, it turns out dicking around on a guitar all night and fantasizing about killing aliens doesn't actually lead to much growth as a person.

"Yeah, passion, like I said."

> You think for a second.

"I guess... I mean, it's best if they care about shit that's interesting. I mean, I don't vwanna hear some nerd go on about model trains for hours. But I think caring about something enough to dedicate yourself to it is cool."

> You're kind of opening up again, even though this isn't exactly something you're used to talking about. You don't feel like you're on the edge of a wrong answer, though.

"Art, especially, though. Art is so..."

> Useful? Important? Nah. You fold back into yourself a little.

"It's neat, at least. I guess being interested in something practical is better."

carnivalsoration > You like that, like that he can see the value in giving a shit about things he doesn't care a lick about. Your expression has been steadily softening, and now you smile a little at his words. He's doing great. Keep going, Cronus.

> And then he says something a bit down again, a bit Alternian Standard, and you have to reach back for what he was so close to expressing. Something genuine about Himself.

"No, tell me more about art, brother. I wanna hear your thoughts. What excites you about art, about music?"

vwarlordvwanderlust > You laugh a little.

"You're biased because you're a clowvn, but yeah, sure."

> You fall back into the subject with little encouragement, seemingly forgetting that this is the Big Scary Alternian Mentor Guy.

"Art is... Good art, to clarify, because there's a lot of shit out there. But art is beautiful evwen vwhen it's ugly, because art is honest evwen vwhen it's fake. All art tells a truth about the artist, y'knowv?"

carnivalsoration "I do know. I like that about art, I like knowin about people through what they do and how they do it."

> You don't mind the clown stereotyping. Just this once. It's true enough anyway.

"And what do you think your art says about you?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "Vwell, if you havwe to ask, it must not havwe been saying vwery vwell!"

> You take that in good humor, though.

"I guess my public stuff, the newv music, is mostly about me being cool and tough and a loyal citizen. But subject isn't the same as message... It probably mostly says howv self centered I am."

> Candor!

> You do talk a lot about yourself in your songs.

carnivalsoration > You laugh a bit as well. "Well, the message I get and the message you intend can be two separate things. Art is individual even to the observers of it. But I think that comes across pretty well."

> You think it comes across that he's lonely and desperate.

"What about your private stuff, then? The stuff where you are the artist and the intended audience?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "Vwell, I mean, that stuff's privwate."

> So's your vent blog, but this guy has that too.

> You stare off into the middle distance, because it makes you look cool and deep.

"I guess it mostly just says that I'm sensitivwe. Major character flawv, but sometimes the babes lovwe it, so it's a mixed bag. It's all about heartbreak and abandonment or vwhatevwer."

carnivalsoration > Oh fuck. Oh fuck it's so hard to not laugh at him sometimes.

> You keep back the chuckles and feel glad that he's staring off into the distance like a nerd.

"So you feel abandoned? Misunderstood?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "Sure, yeah. I mean, it's not like people stick around."

> For Some Reason.

"Nobody really gets me, and nobody really cares to try. I guess you do, and San."

carnivalsoration > .... And That's about all the focus you're willing to have with this conversation.

"Well, me and saness are gonna do our best. So. Ya know. Try not to make it too hard on us."

vwarlordvwanderlust "I'll do my best."

> Grin, setting aside your Dramatic Melancholy for later.

"I like you guys, you're great. Vweird, but hey, vwho isn't?"

carnivalsoration "Who knows. No one I wanna chill with."

> A few seconds of looking at him.

"Hey I got shit to do and I can't really do it in this busted up hive."

vwarlordvwanderlust "No, yeah, I vwas just about to ask if you vwere ready to dip."

> It's time for lots of introspection, followed by promptly discarding all the conclusions you come to that feel bad.

> This was. Something. Lots of things.

"Do you havwe your owvn vway back? San did."

carnivalsoration > You're not sure he actually was. You're just a little tired of dealing with a wiggler.

"Yeah," you motion to a bracer very similar to hers. "I'm pretty good on transport. Catch ya later?"

vwarlordvwanderlust "Seeya around, boss."

> Fingerguns and wink. God you're charming. Time to go.

carnivalsoration > You disappear! Bye bitch.

[charlottedabookworm]

Regarding: That Sad Idea you had a little while ago, about Nyx meeting the younger version of his dad? I think - I think it would work best if it wasn't TimeIsCruel Nyx. Not!TimeIsCruel Nyx, being *somehow* transported back to the past and meeting the younger version of his father - who is /thrilled/ to meet his future son. ("I have a son! I have a son! Hello random person, I have a son!") The magic that brought Nyx here doesn't let him do or say anything to alter the timeline (cont)

(cont) And it’s - heartbreaking and wonderful and strange all in one to meet this version of his father, one happier and lighter and /free/. And maybe Nyx can’t alter time (he’s going to get yanked back to his own time automatically eventually) - but, well, he takes advantage of it to /punch Somnus in the FACE/. (“Trust me, he deserves it.”) And just - think how heartbroken past!Ardyn must have been, when the Scourge and the Curse took him - (cont)

 (cont) He probably thought that he’d invalidated Nyx’s existence somehow; he was pretty sure he’d been rendered sterile by the Scourge/Curse etc. Except. Two thousand years later. He has a son. And he looks at Nyx and - Nyx is proof. That not everything he lost. He has a /son/. 

You, my friend, are a giant enabler. You are also right. It is so much more heartbreaking with a Nyx that didn’t know his father as he was - because it’s so much easier for him to notice the differences. When he gets back Nyx is gonna take like, a month off just to hug his dad and never let him go. Ardyn is totally fine with this, he’s spent 2000 years stressing over whetehr or not his son would be born. (Becuase he noticed how sometimes Nyx looked at him like he wanted to cry, how Nyx looked at Somnus as though he was an enemy. He didn’t think much of it at the time - because he was too focused on meeting Nyx - but after the curse, after Somnus’ betrayal? Well, lets say some things make a little more sense)

Have a snippet (hah, snippet I say, it’s over a 1000 words) from Nyx’s POV under the cut. I really want to write the next bit from Ardyns POV but I’m also meant to be packing and writing the next Our Past chapter so gods know when I’ll get round to it.

It happens while he’s on a mission, because of course it does.Nyx had been feeling out of sorts all day – nothing big, nothing even worth mentioning, but enough that he was just twitchy. Just odd enough for him to notice and for it to irritate him. Which, well, was annoying – but not world ending, even though it meant that he was looking forward to the mission and a chance to destroy things.And the mission started out well enough – it was just a standard guard and destroy mission (affectionally titled the “Hold your ground and Fuck Shit Up” missions in glaive reports – there was a reason that Drautos despaired of the lot of them) against the Nif and the Daemons that they’d brought with them. Nothing particularly difficult, nothing they hadn’t done before, nothing that would take all that long – it was a milk run, really, meant so that the younger glaives could build up some experience.Nyx was only there because he had volunteered when Drautos had asked for a couple older glaives to go to keep an eye on the kids. Because he had been desperate to get out of the city and just kill something – to try and work off all of this excess energy that he had.He had regretted that, pretty much the moment that they arrived at the site. Because Nyx had spent a lot of time fighting in ruins – it practically came in the job description and the Nifs spent a lot of time targeting populated areas. But nobody had told him that they were going to be fighting in the ruins of Old Solheim. Hells, maybe they didn’t even know. One set of ruins looked a lot like another, and they weren’t exactly anywhere near where Solheim used to be – Lucis and Niflheim probably didn’t even know what these ruins used to be.But Nyx could feel it – could feel the land reaching out to him, tasting his magic, could feel the magic of the land embracing him, recognising him. (His father was a King. Ardyn was Solheim’s King, bound to the land in a way that the Lucian kings would never understand. The land recognised him, whispered things to him, was a part of him in a way that Somnus had never known.And his father had recognised him as a Prince, had confirmed him as his heir. The land recognised that decision, accepted that decision. The land had chosen Nyx as it’s Prince, just like Ardyn had, and this was proof)Which made it really fucking hard to concentrate on the battle a hand, what with the way that his blood and magic were basically singing contentment and home and soon at him. Thankfully, the kids didn’t actually need his help – and Nyx only had to step in at the end when a couple of them had drawn the attention of a daemon that was a little too strong for them, Pelna having taken care of pretty much everything else.Fighting off a daemon with just his blades doesn’t really help him burn off any of the excess energy that’s because of his magic, but that’s probably a good thing honestly – with the way he feels right now, with the way his magic was right now, he’d probably end up blowing the entire place sky high.The battle ends pretty quickly, with no real injuries outside of some cuts and bruises caused by shrapnel, and they’re just cleaning up when it happens.Nyx, startled by a sudden change in the lands magic, stumbles – brushing a slightly bloody hand against some runes that he hadn’t bothered to translate.There’s a surge of magic - eager and joyous and excitable and powerful and old - that rushes around him, reaching for him, and Nyx barely has time to curse before the world goes white.He wakes up to a man poking him in the face, a man that his magic instinctively recognises, and his fist is flying towards the mans face without a second thought. For a moment he feels slightly guilty – really, the man had brought it on himself but he might have possibly been a bit violent – before he realises what his magic, what the land, is whispering to him (brother of the King, blood-kin, Bahamut’s blade, Somnus) and then all he feels is proud of the way that his nose had cracked, and slightly sad that he hadn’t managed to do more.And then his eyes land on the second man, who was standing slightly behind the first, and he freezes.(That’s his dad. He knows that that’s his dad – his magic had reached for him the way that it always did, and his dad’s magic had reached back. But.It was so odd to see his father without the weight of millennia on his shoulders. It was odd to see the man without the lines of betrayal on his face, without the taint of the scourge in his magic, without the air of age that always surrounded him, without the endless shadows in his eyes and the constant battle for control against the daemons housed within his body.This was the healer, the King of Solheim. This was a man who hadn’t yet taken too much of the Scourge into himself trying to heal others, who hadn’t yet been betrayed by those closest to him, who hadn’t had his people stolen from him, who hadn’t faced his own execution at the hands of his family, who hadn’t been cursed by a God that he had once followed, who hadn’t had to live for 2000 years trying to find a way to die. This was Ardyn before he was broken, this was his father as he should have been.And that broke his heart.Because this man, the man in front of him, was young. Young in a way that Nyx found hard to reconcile with his father.He was young and happy and free, and it made Nyx want to kill something and cry and break down. Because Nyx knew exactly what happened to this man, to turn him into the father that Nyx knew – Nyx knew what was in this man’s future, and he hated himself for it)“What the fuck is my luck?” He said mournfully, tipping his head briefly back to stare at the sky. Why was it always him?A noise brought his attention back to his father, who was standing half-in half-out a defence stance, obviously confused at what his magic was telling him about Nyx. Well, might as well prove that he’s his father’s son.“Hey dad, lovely weather we’re having right?”

[thedeaditeslayer]

Ray Santiago On the End of Ash and the Future of Evil Dead.

Ash vs. Evil Dead was a beautiful, disgusting, hilarious and horrifying show that deserved a much bigger audience. With Bruce Campbell reprising the role of Ash Williams for what would turn out to be the last time, the show followed an aging has-been stumbling his way through a demonic assault on Earth. Along the way, he and his companions covered in blood, guts and pretty much any other fluid you can think of. If you haven’t been watching this show, you’ve been missing out. And hey, now’s the perfect time to fix that. With the first two seasons on Netflix and the third out on blu-ray and DVD today, you don’t even have to have a Starz subscription to see the whole thing.

Though Bruce Campbell was the biggest star of the show, Ray Santiago’s Pablo is the heart. Over the course of three seasons, you get to watch him grow from a nervous, directionless kid into a full-fledged horror-action hero. Santiago talked to us about his character’s growth and how he looks back at the show now that it’s all over.

“Overall, I’m just so happy that everybody sort of welcomed me into the franchise, and that Pablo made such an impact on the story,” he said. “He started as this naive loyal sidekick, and we got to really see him evolve and become his own hero. And in a weird way, it’s all because of him following Ash and idolizing this bogus guy.”

On the show, Pablo grows into a hero because he follows Ash. Things weren’t that different on set between Campbell and Santiago. The difference is real-life Campbell sounds like a much nicer guy than Ash. If you’ve ever seen Campbell speak in an interview or at a comic con, you know he always brings a show. His bombastic personality fills the stage, and it’s almost enough to make you believe he is Ash. When you work with him, Santiago says, that’s not so much the case.

“Bruce tends to amp up the personality when he’s doing the cons and interviews. He is that way, but he’s also such a warm father figure, and such a great leader. He took such good care of us, and I learned so much from him,” he said. Campbell taught Santiago technical things, like how to hit his mark so the camera could pick up what he was doing, as well as some general acting advice. “Little things like if you’re not having fun, then you’re doing it wrong. I’m so glad I got to work with Bruce on this TV cult classic.”

Santiago clearly loved being part of this show. He described filming with the rest of the cast and crew in New Zealand as feeling like being at camp. He learned not to take horror too seriously and, as we all did after the show’s sudden cancellation, that nothing good lasts forever. Playing a character like Pablo, and growing into a hero, also meant a lot to Santiago.

“As a kid, I grew up watching horror films, and I wanted to be the person being chased by the monster, and I wanted to save the world from evil. On Ash vs. Evil Dead with Pablo, we got a chance to see me become my own superhero. As a latino actor, and Pablo being an illegal immigrant, we got to see… well, I feel like both of them are heroes in their own special way,” Santiago said. “I was really happy to have that, Pablo in general, having him out there so somebody who’s younger could turn to the show, as fun as it is, and see somewhat of a role model. See that it doesn’t matter where you come from, how naive or vulnerable you might be, you might be able to save the world one day. If you believe in yourself.”

And that all comes after the show subjected Santiago to some pretty disgusting stuff. For him, nothing was quite as gross as something that happened all the way back in Season One. “I birthed demons out of my mouth,” he said.

I’ll give you a second to let that image fully form in your head. Got it? Good, because Santiago went on to describe exactly what that scene entailed. “So… never in my life did I think I’d call my mom and say, ‘hey mom I just finished doing my birthing scene.’ But on Ash, we did. And the way that it went down, they were like ‘OK, sooo your mouth’s a portal for the demons, the baby demons, and we need you to put this in your mouth, and we need you to spit it out slowly.’ And I was like, ‘What? That was definitely not in my job description, but uh OK?”

Despite all the gross things that happened to him, Santiago says he had the most fun doing all of it. Including the time he was a Deadite and they took his fingers away. “It takes about an hour to put each hand on, so once they put those hands on, you’re not going to the bathroom,” he said. Santiago didn’t even get the worst of it. Though he feels like everyone got their share of blood and “gross torture” on the show, nothing really topped Bruce’s morgue scene in Season Two.

“Bruce was covered in shit and cum, so you can’t really beat that, can you? I almost didn’t say it, but it’s the truth! You know what? Season two, shit happens and Season Three, we blew our load.”

SPOILERS

If you’ve seen the show, you know it has a very Army of Darkness-like ending. Spoilers from here on out, so be warned. Ash ends the season by waking up in a post-apocalyptic world. Sadly we won’t get to see what Season 4 would have done with it, but Santiago told me what he was envisioning. First of all, yes, Pablo is still alive. Santiago said IO was the second person to ask, and his first reaction is “Why wouldn’t he be?” He explained what he meant.

“I think Pablo and Kelly are definitely still alive. I think what you saw was Bruce (Ash) has been taken to the future, but I still think that we exist in the present day or the past. What you would have seen in Season Four would have been the journey to get back to the same time zone. Whether it’s Bruce coming back to save us or us trying to find him,” he said.

Santiago said we’d see Pablo trying to fill Ash’s role, which would have made for great TV. “I think there would have been two parallel universes going on. You would have seen Pablo leading the Ghost Beaters in his own way, trying to keep what Ash taught him alive and doing his own thing.” He also hinted at where the love story would go, which I’m always a sucker for. “And maybe you might have seen a little Pablo and Kelly baby with, like, Pablo hair and Kelly’s voice.” That would have most likely happened in the future timeline. Man, why did Starz have to deprive us of that?

Their ideas for Season 4 got real weird too. If you wondered what Pablo would have looked like in the post-apocalypse, Santiago has an answer. “We had this idea of me in a glass case. It would just be my head and hair in a glass case. And I was like, ‘uhhhh… OK, that sounds fun.'”

It’s not quite the post-apocalyptic Mad Max version of Pablo I envisioned, but when I mentioned that, Santiago appeared to have given the matter some thought as well. “We could have gone so many different ways. In the future when we see Bruce, he could get in his car, drive somewhere and then we’re there. And we could explain how we got there, so you might have seen a Mad Max version of Pablo.” Santiago even knows exactly what that would have looked like. “In my head, if that were to happen, I would have completely shaved my head and gone full blown warrior mode. Shed the young, innocent version of Pablo and be more, sort of, kick ass.”

SPOILERS END

While the show is ending though, Santiago doesn’t necessarily think it’ll be the end for the Evil Dead franchise. “It’s been really nice to be part of a franchise that will live forever. It’s been 30-something years, and I think that we’ll, you never know, we’ll be wheeling Bruce out in 30 more years. You never know what will happen.”

Though Bruce Campbell is retiring the character of Ash, that doesn’t mean the end of Evil Dead. As the excellent 2013 remake proved, Evil Dead can (and probably will) continue on without him. “[Bruce retiring Ash] doesn’t rule out Dana and I, and the Fede Alvarez version with all the people in the remake,” Santiago said. “You never know. I think what’s going on right now is basically what happens in the Evil Dead franchise all the time. Which is giving it some time to breathe and then something will definitely be coming your way soon enough. No one’s ever truly dead in this franchise, and the franchise itself is never truly dead. I would say keep your eyes open for another version of what you might want out there.”

As far as a spinoff goes, it’s definitely a possibility. The show has been performing well on Netflix, and we know how much they like to bring back shows with dedicated cult followings. Santiago says Campbell, though he wouldn’t be in it, is all for the idea. Bruce has given us his blessing to move forward and do a spinoff if we want. I think right now, I’m working on another show and I’m working on two films. It’s nice to sort of do a different thing, but I do miss Pablo… If the offer came in for me to revive the Ghost Beaters on Netflix, I’d have a really hard time saying no,” he said.

For now, you’ll be able to catch Santiago on a new Hulu show from horror production studio Blumhouse called Into the Dark. Santiago describes it as an anthology series where every episode is basically a horror movie, each one with a different cast. Santiago is one of the leads in the first episode which premiers October 5. Despite it being a very different character from Pablo, Santiago couldn’t help bringing some of his Evil Dead mindset with him.

“I was on set and I was like, ‘We need more blood, this isn’t enough blood,’ and they were like, ‘this isn’t Evil Dead man,’ and I was like ‘yeah, but still we need more blood.’ So I’m still traumatized, and I’ve become very masochistic with blood,” he said.

Ash vs. Evil Dead may be gone, but its spirit isn’t going away anytime soon. Season Three was the wildest season of a show that went all the way from the very beginning. If you missed out, or if you just want to watch it again, it’s available on Blu-Ray and DVD August 21.

[agentsokka]

Davekat Fic Recs [P2]

Continuation of my Davekat fic rec list from ye old 2016. An absolute metric shit ton of Damn Good Fics™ have dropped since then, and it’s criminal I haven’t updated that original list in so long. 

As per usual with these things, you won’t find much luck here with smut content. Some stories feature scenes, but for the most part, the fics themselves aren’t exclusively about such.

Cheers!

[Oneshots]

English is Full of Really Shitty Metaphors: You knew you probably shouldn't stay on a planet mostly inhabited by trolls once you finished your adult pupation and your blood color became more apparent. You also knew that you should learn a couple of other languages so that your weren't floundering around like an idiot when you eventually did move. Talking to random aliens on the internet seemed like a really good way to practice.

Fatalistic Humor, or, Jokes to Make Post-Mortem: ‘Head over heels’ is an appropriate turn of phrase because falling in love is exactly like throwing yourself down an endless staircase of inconvenient emotion.

i’m at the combination dunkin donuts & urgent care: Karkat Vantas is convinced beyond a doubt that his neighbor is some variety of murderer, until they actually meet in person. Highlights include blood at the laundromat, Dave's weird obsession with candles, and a box of shitty swords.

In Which a Loser is Sick: IN WHICH A LOSER IS SICK AND TRIES TO DENY IT, A TROLL IS ALSO A LOSER AND TRIES TO DENY IT, PISSING PANTS IS DISCUSSED IN THE SAME LINE OF CONVERSATION AS CALMING DOWN, VRISKA IS MENTIONED BECAUSE OF COURSE SHE IS, SOUP IS MADE AND SUBSEQUENTLY IGNORED, AND AN ACT OF AFFECTION IS REPAID BY THE WEAKENING OF AN IMMUNE SYSTEM. Dave gets sick and Karkat takes care of him.

Pretty Friggin’ MATRIMONIAL: Karkat is planning the proposal to end all proposals, but a clueless Dave has plans of his own.

Rumination: Dave and Karkat do some thinking, talking, kissing, and cuddling. Not necessarily in that order.

Self Sabotage and Other Symptoms of a Damaged Soul: Ok so everyone knows Dave and Dirk had a long amazing talk that presumably ended with Dave asking him for advice on the Being Not Straight stuff. My problem is, Dave also spent three years with his gloriously gay twin sister on a fucking space rock while he was right in the middle of coming to terms with all this stuff. So I wrote this mostly to reconcile the gap I think exists there, with a bunch of other Dave centric stuff thrown in with it.

Shitty Punchlines are the Purest Form of Self-Deprecation: Laying somewhere solidly post-credits and wondering, when do we start feeling like winners? Or is that not part of the package? Where's our fucking GameFAQs guide to navigating these stupid first steps into an eternity processing whatever the FUCK just happened, here? Going through that door was supposed to fix everything. Wasn't it? What's it going to take to fix ourselves?

Sleepwalk: Dave has unfortunate nocturnal habits. Karkat handles them better than anyone might've expected.

Start at the Beginning: Don't stop until eternity. And even then. (Davekat, meteor to can land to earth c and on. Happy anniversary.)

Sweatertown - Population: Two: Dave's cape gets hijacked, but Karkat knows what to do about it.

Tested: Dave and Karkat want to escape Aperture Science Laboratories.

That Cultural Divide: “Dave,” says Karkat neutrally, “why are they beating him up?” And your mouth runs dry.

Valentine’s Day: Valentine's Day through the three years on the meteor.

What to do When Your Boyfriend is Too Hot: Moving to a new universe and a new paradigm brings a lot of changes. And Dave kind of likes the way things were before, back on the Meteor, when he had Karkat all to himself and didn't spend sleepless nights waiting for the shoe to fall.

[Multichap]

About a Time I Failed: A doomed timeline AU. Instead of trolling John, Karkat finds himself scrolling through Dave's entire timeline. He is horrified by what he finds, and ends up in a pseudo-friendship with somewhat reluctant Dave. The story spans the rest of this timeline- Dave and Karkat's budding internet romance, the beta kids becoming friends, the start of SBURB, and, eventually, all of them realizing that Dave and Karkat's diversion from the Alpha Timeline has doomed them all. [Incomplete]

And it’s a Downward Spiral from There: One day, the whole world is going to acknowledge you as that one guy who finally made contact with aliens, but if you had known that getting drunk was going to lead up to abduction, a potential probing, and becoming the worst cult sacrifice this side of the galaxy, you probably would have just stayed at home. [Ongoing]

Astronomy in Reverse: Dave and Karkat are intergalactic pen pals, originally paired together for an extra credit school outreach project. Now, three years of correspondence later, they're best friends... and Karkat is finally immigrating to Earth. [Ongoing]

Breathe: Your name is Dave Strider, and there's nothing good about John and Rose changing schools. Without your twin sister and best friend, you've been left socially crippled at school, and barely coping at home. You're nearly certain that your mental health has been slowly spiraling downhill. You have no clue how you'll last the year to high school graduation. In all this, there's just one single ray of light. Your name is Dave Strider, and there's nothing good about John and Rose changing schools. Except for meeting Karkat Vantas. [Ongoing]

**The Calm is Terrifying When the Storm is All You’ve Known**: There were two kinds of trolls who went to Earth: rich shitheads with too much money and free time, and desperate assholes who couldn’t survive on Alternia, even with the best efforts of the young Condesce. Karkat hated the planet almost immediately, but with his home planet too dangerous for mutants, he really didn’t have any choice but to hide out on this weird little diurnal planet. At least he’d be safe. Or so he thought, right before blundering his way into an accidental friendship with the son of an anti-troll terrorist. Slow burn, shifting perspectives; romance really isn't the focus here but it'll still play a significant part; extra content warnings will be posted with each relevant chapter. [Ongoing] [y’all I’m serious read it it’ll water your crops and clear your chakras it’s Good Shit]

cold desert: Curiosity killed the cat. It probably just wasn't as good at being nosy as Dave is. [Ongoing]

Demon Eyes: In which Dave goes in to kill a demon for his bro, and things...don't exactly go as planned. [Ongoing]

Doc Scratch’s School for Supernaturally Gifted Adolescents: One minute you get a mysterious message from a man who types all in white like a jackass, and then the next thing you know you're being whisked away to a mystical school for kids with superpowers. If you weren't Dave fucking Strider, this sort of thing might bother you. [Ongoing]

Fortuitous: Dave and Karkat build a pillow fort and an unexpected chain of events occurs. [Ongoing]

If I Lose Everything in the Fire: The Kaiju - or Horrorterrors, as the trolls call them - first invaded Earth through a transdimensional rift at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. Serving the Condesce in her quest to add Earth to the Alternian Empire, these monsters have terrorized humanity for twelve years. With the help of rebel troll factions and the adaptation of Alternian mind integration technology - The Drift - the Interspecies Defense Program has fought back as the last line of defense between the Kaiju and Earth. Karkat Vantas was a Jaeger pilot, fought for freedom in the Assault on the Breach that brought trolls to Earth. The loss of his co-pilot left him bitter and full of rage, but desperate times have lead to him being recruited to join the fray once more. Dave Strider is the best and brightest the Interspec program has to offer. Jaeger Restoration Project Head, highest simulation score on record, and younger brother of the Deputy Marshal - except he's not allowed in a Jaeger. Nobody expects them to be Drift Compatible. [Ongoing]

i'm sick of the things i do when i'm nervous: Two idiots poke at recovery with a stick. [Complete]

IN WHICH TWO SETS OF HUMAN BROTHERLY BONDS ARE ESTABLISHED, SEVERAL CORRUPT INSTITUTIONS OF MORALITY ARE IDEOLOGICALY DEMOLISHED, A DOG WITCH USES GOD POWERS TO MESS WITH EXQUISTELY CAREFULLY PLANNED INFRASTRUCTURE PLANS FOR SOME TREES LIKE A JACKASS--: --APPROXIMATELY A BILLION FUCKING CONSORTS AND CHESS PEOPLE, ALONG WITH A LOT OF USELESS GOD MODED LAYABOUTS ARE LEAD TO SUCCESSFUL COLONIZATION AND ESTABLISHMENT BY A SUCCESSFUL AND COMPASSIONATE LEADER, AND LONG-SUNDERED SOULMATES TORN APART BY FEAR AND DEVASTATING, MIND-BOGGLING STUPIDITY ARE REUNITED AT LAST BY A WISE, COMPASSIONATE BOSS / GUIDANCE FIGURE AND HIS LOYAL, EFFICIENT RIGHT-HAND MAN. THERE ARE AT LEAST THREE CRYING SCENES, TWO KISSES, AND OVER TEN TOTAL MINUTES OF REAL-TIME DESCRIPTION OF LONGING GAZES AND TENDER HUGS. 2 RESOUNDING ENDORSEMENTS OF BELOVED MUNICIPAL OFFICIALS. PRIMERS ON HUMAN/TROLL INTERSPECIES ROMANCE. THIS TEXT IS SUGGESTED SCHOOLFEEDING MATERIAL FOR ALL REASONABLY GROWN HATCHLINGS GAZING OUT ON THE BLIGHTED WASTELAND OF THEIR PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS, WISHING THEY WERE DEAD, AND DESPERATELY YEARNING SOMEONE WOULD CLUE THEM IN ON JUST WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON. RATED 8(17)+ AND UP. [Complete]

M.C. Escher that's My Favorite MC [It’s the End of the World as We Know It]: Dirk has a plan, when he's 18 he's going to take Dave and get him the fuck out of their terrible lives and start over. Until then being the barrier between Dave and Bro is his only job, his soulmate is just going to have to wait goddamnit. Dave has a plan, it involves getting internet famous and not going gay, easy right? Karkat also has a plan, to repeatedly track down his dumb as rocks soulmate and get him to actually talk to him for fuck's sake. [Ongoing]

Midnight’s Son: Dave Strider's father, a prominent detective, is tasked with infiltrating the Midnight Crew. Dave, worried about his father's safety, decides to do a little undercover work of his own and tries to befriend the boss's son, Karkat Vantas. [Complete]

Nothing Risked, Nothing Lost: Try as he might, Dave remembered nothing from the first four years of his life. There were three signs of imminent upheaval. First, the King of Derse disappeared without a trace. Second, the Queen of Prospit dropped dead. The third sign was the return of long-lost royalty. Not like any of this was Dave's concern. Not the war between Prospit and Derse, not the horrorterrors of the Furthest Ring, not the failings of some dumb monarchs. He was a nobody. Not like Rose, a bona fide Seer of Light. He wasn't sure why she wanted them to go to Derse, but he followed her, anyway. Like he always did. [Hiatus]

Off Court: Your name is Dave Strider, and a hospital wasn’t the setting you had imagined when you thought of seeing your twin again. Your name is Karkat Vantas, and having Terezi drag you around her weird human legislacerator training probably wasn’t the worst way you could spend the rest of your sweeps. And then you meet him. [Ongoing]

Palisades, Palisades: In your memories, you see Dave Strider, fourteen-years-old and made up of lean muscle and awkward limbs that he would still need a few years to grow into fully. Crows surround him, all cawing impatiently, vying for the chicken sandwich in his backpack. He swears loudly as he swings a stick at them, trying to get them to leave him the fuck alone. “Stupid feathery assholes,” he’d always complain once he finally shooed them away. You tear yourself out of the memory. You miss him, and you hate yourself for it. [Complete]

The Red Thing: The first time you ever realised there was something wrong with you, you were two sweeps old. You still remember it like it was just yesterday. You were at the playground in your then-community, which you had long since moved from. You’d been playing ‘tag’ with some of the other young trolls, but had tripped and scraped your knees. One of the other troll’s custodial guardians had noticed what had happened, and wandered over to make sure you were alright. You don’t think you’ll ever forget the look on her face when she picked you up and saw the mutant-red seeping through the knees of your pants. Things spiraled downhill quickly after that. You’d never quite understood what was happening when you were young, but you’d known that you’d become an outcast. Other trolls around you started to avoid you. Sometimes they’d throw things at you – food, stones, anything that might hurt you. Other times, they’d call you names – mistake, mutant, freak. You preferred when they tried to hurt you. At least then you could fight back. [Ongoing]

space cowboy disaster zone: Your name is Karkat Vantas, and these nights you eke out a quiet living on Antoren-3, helping around the Caltira Inn or scavenging out in the rust plains. It’s a simple life, and the only excitement you get for the most part is from the stories of other scavengers, a handful of bar fights, and the occasional salvageable wreck. Fresh wrecks, you’ve only seen a handful of times, and when John spots the telltale streak of light from a distant crash in the middle of a rust storm, you’re eager to get first dibs on whatever it might contain, the elements be damned. You don’t expect a survivor. [Ongoing]

Stepping Stones: A series of vignettes concerning the evolution of the relationship between Karkat Vantas and Dave Strider. Or, the troll title: IN WHICH DAVE AND KARKAT DISCUSS THE VARIOUS DIFFERENCES BETWEEN HUMAN AND TROLL GENITALS, THERE IS AN AWKWARD CONFESSION OF EMOTIONS, DAVE AND DIRK FINISH THEIR CONVERSATION ON THE ROOFTOP, DAVE GETS SOME ADVICE FROM A FEW OF THE LADIES IN HIS LIFE, AND THERE IS A SMUTTY EPILOGUE. [Complete]

The Stories We Tell Ourselves: Dave was silent. YES. YOU. The voice answered him before he even had a chance to speak up and voice his confusion or curiosity with a lack of delicacy only a child was capable of. It had a harsh way of speaking, brash enough to be rude and so loud the sound of his voice practically echoed off his skull. In it he could feel the rich, crimson flow of blood, the drip, drip, of molten lava degrading stone so ancient not even the gods of old would have lived to see it form. A being so old, so vast, that even to speak his name would grant one with immeasurable power. It made him shudder, little hands clenching into fists against rough stone. HUMAN CHILD. In which Dave is alone and Dragons exist. Shenanigans ensue. [Ongoing]

Stow Away: Calm and collected, that's Dave Strider. The docking station around him is chaotic and loud but he is like ice, cool and clear. None of that is true of course, but nobody is looking closely enough to notice the way his hands shake and his eyes dart around underneath the opaque plastic of his vintage sunglasses. Dave Strider sneaks on board an Alternian ship in an attempt to flee his shitty situation on Earth. This is the first of many questionable decisions. [Complete]

Time Displacement: Side A: After the events of the game, Dave wakes up in a universe that is familiarly unfamiliar. Sburb didn't happen, all their guardians are alive, and Bro is...different. [Ongoing]

Transcend: Dave doesn't get troll romance, but that's okay because Karkat is bad at it anyway. A journey through all four quadrants and a bit more. [Complete]