#bless escape for letting us see some details

[ukenceto]

it's Major Paduk loving hours x2

[just-a-ghost00]

Who is your future spouse?

I'll be trying to get significant details about your spouse using 3 different decks. I'm not asking any specific question about looks or personality but rather just letting spirit guide us towards any detail they deem worthy of our attention. As this is a general reading, you may not resonate with every single detail but the general picture or overall vibe may speak to you to some level. For once, I decided to do 4 groups instead of 3.

Group 1

"I see grace and possibility in all of life's challenges." "There's no such thing as mistakes. Everything happens in divine order. I am being guided to learn and grow." "I accept the gifts I've been given as a high service to the world."

White Numen tarot : Queen of cups, 5 of swords, The Fool, knight of pentacles, 6 of cups

I don't care oracle : Take care of yourself, Close your curtains close your eyes sleep, Got a drink? Cheers! , Box with the pillow

Starting with the image you picked, I'm getting a strong message of using music and art in general as a form of escapism but also a mean of harmless self expression. Your FS may be struggling with a sense of loneliness that they are fighting off through a strong interest in any form of artistic expression. The bunny makes me think of innocence and creativity. The fact that it's a plushy makes me think of childhood and frailty. This passion that they have is something that stems from childhood and that has allowed them to hold on through hard times. I can't help but to be reminded of Stray Kids Lee Know when I look at this image. So maybe your FS has a similar personality or background to Lee Know's. Your FS could be a Kpop enthusiast. They could be an artist or enjoy doing art as their hobby. They are a rather sensitive and soft individual. They have a very comforting presence. There's a sadness to them that feels a little bittersweet.

They've been through a lot, not only romantic wise but also just on a personal level. Despite everything they've been through, they still have a lot of faith in the Universe and in mankind. With time, they've chosen to see their struggles as opportunities for growth and to cherish every experience that they get to live, even though some of them are uncomfortable because they're aware that in everything lies a blessing in disguise. They are very spiritual and they have a strong mindset gained through years of pain and struggle. They're an old soul and chances are that they have a lot of interesting stories to tell about their past.

Speaking of the past, you may share several past lives with this person. If you don't believe in this concept, you just may feel like you've known this person before when you've just barely met because they are so genuine and empathetic that it feels like they know you at your very core. For some of you, they could be a childhood friend. This person could also work with children or just be very popular with babies and kids. Another thing I am picking up on is that though this person is very mature and has gone through a lot, they look very innocent and youthful. Many people underestimate this person's age because of how childlike they may appear physically. Like, their skin is very soft and supple, they have no grey hair nor do they have wrinkles, they may be quite petite compared to other people of their age.

They've struggled with their mental health quite a lot. They're constantly thinking and bickering with their own self. They may be neurodivergent or struggle with a form of mental disorder. Another thing is that they have a very striking effect on people because they're hard to grasp. Their personality and the way they show up is so unique that they can't be categorized, "put into a box". This person just takes pride in not fitting, not conforming to any standard or norm. They don't like to be trapped in outdated perceptions of life and society. They are very protective of their freedom of expression. So chances are they have a very particular sense of style, a very specific way of expressing themselves in public, a particular posture that makes them stand out from other people. Like for example, they're the only person in their family that doesn't conform to gender norms. Actually I feel like the notion of gender isn't relevent to this person. However, they appear as quite feminine in their energy.

One thing that is very striking about them is how detached about material life they are. They do not care about possessions, wealth. This person is very generous and humble. They could give away their own clothes on a whim just to help someone else, buy a random person a meal just for the sake of making a good deed. They do random acts of kindness, not just with people they know but with anyone they come across. They give to charities, they leave food on the street for the homeless or for stray animals,they share important information on their socials in case it may be useful to someone. They're just really selfless. The reason behind that is because this person comes from a rather "poor" background. They know what it's like to be lacking something and they believe that any good deed done will come back to them. They have this mentality of not doing to others what they wouldn't appreciate themselves. So they're definitely not the kind to look down on other people or to hate on others.

This generosity can also be shown in their emotions and how they express themselves. They do not shy away from telling people they love them. They are very demonstrative and openly communicate their feelings, even though it makes them vulnerable. They wear their heart on their sleeve. They're incapable of lying. In connections, this person pours their heart out and they give their all. They're incredibly loving, kind, compassionate and patient. They show a lot of empathy and understanding towards others but they tend to be extremely harsh on themselves.

They struggle with a lot of anger issues as well as overthinking. They tend to burn themselves out thinking and worrying about others, helping other people to the detriment of their own health. They're in desperate need of love and rest and they have a hard time slowing down to focus on themselves. This person is not used to receiving and giving themselves the love that they willingly and selflessly give to others.

They're a cat lover. They may or may not own a pet cat. They have a cat like personality. They're more of an introvert but they tend to put on an extrovert façade to please others, especially their family and friends.

This person can be quite easily sociable with people however there aren't many people that they feel close to. In social settings, they tend to stay aside and only interact with the crowd here and there, out of politeness. They may struggle with the feeling of not belonging. They may feel like they do not fit in because of their unique sense of self and their strong morals. Again, I get strong neurodivergent vibes from this person but I also get a theme of cultural differences. This person may have grown in an environment where only a specific demographic was represented and they were the only source of diversity. Now that could mean all kinds of things but to give you an example maybe they grew up in a city where most people had fair skin and they were the only child with a different skin color. Or like maybe when they were a kid they were the only boy/girl when all the other kids were of the opposite biological sex.

Speaking of cultural differences, at the beginning of your reading, I had the impression that they lived in a different country than yours and that feeling is further confirmed with the spread. They could possibly have a similar background to yours but the only difference is that they grew up in a different setting. Like for instance, imagine two people that are both of European descent but one of them grew up in Spain while the other spent on the other side of the globe for some reason. Another thing I was picking up on was two people being born from two different ethnicities. So I feel like you and your future spouse will have a lot in common in the sense that you may have been through similar hardships in your life though you come from completely different areas of the globe. You could bond over things like : being the "black sheep" of the family, being the "generational curse breaker", being the "weird child" or the "rebellious child", being bullied in school because of your looks/sexual preferences/culture/religion or any form of difference that made you stand out, feeling like you don't belong, wanting to be someone else or somewhere else, feeling like you're not from this planet, having a weird interest in astrology and space facts, believing in ghosts and/or UFOs.

Group 2

"I communicate with ease and grace. People are willing to embrace what I have to say." "I welcome healthy, loving relationships." "I celebrate my progress. Awareness, not perfection, is the goal."

White Numen tarot : The Magician, 8 of wands, Queen of cups, King of wands, Ace of cups

I don't care oracle : Sorry not sorry, Spread the love, Yes! , Smile smile more even more!, You are not your emotions

This person is very chatty and an excellent communicator. They have a very eloquent speech and a beautiful voice that may be envied by many. They enjoy singing and whistling. They can easily talk anyone through anything. They have a bit of a snake charmer vibe. They're a smooth talker and many times got out of trouble because of that. They have a fascination for birds and/or their nickname revolves around a bird. I'm thinking of Woody Woodpecker, Tweety, Daffy and Donald Duck, Zazu, Iago. Like either that or they are named after a bird or compared to a specific bird. Specifically, there are peacock feathers depicted on the relationships card from the Spirit Junkie oracle. So peacocks could be relevant to this connection somehow. Either they get compared to a peacock because they tend to show off around potential partners or because they have a really flamboyant nature and attidude. They also could be compared to parots or phoenix.

This person exudes a lot of masculine energy. They may be depicted by other people as a playboy/playgirl, as a macho if they're perceived as a man or if they're perceived as a woman their feminism may not be well perceived by their peers. I feel like they get a lot of backlash from others and get wrongly accused of being so many things because of how unapologetically themselves they are. This person has a lot of self confidence and they have strong values. They draw a lot of attention but also a lot of envy and jealousy. They may be in the public eye.

They are extremely harsh with themselves and have perfectionist tendencies. They're a workaholic. They're extremely prideful and take a lot of pride in their accomplishments, especially on a professional level. They are the type to never regret a choice they make, even though people do not share their opinion on the matter because once they've set their mind on something it is very hard for them to change their perspective. They are incredibly stubborn but also incredibly resilient.

They are very popular and sociable, however they just don't let anybody in their close circle. This person has strong boundaries and they do not hold their tongue. They've put themselves in trouble more times than they can count because of their blunt approach. People around them may say that they are haughty or that they have no respect for their elders, that they do not take criticism well or that they are full of themselves. But the truth is this person is just very protective of their own space and they were raised in a background that taught them to always speak their mind when something doesn't feel right. They cannot stand injustice and you can be sure that this person will always stand up for what is right, no matter their differences with the people involved.

They have climbed the ladders of society through their hard work. They "came from nothing" and "became somebody" because of how dedicated they were to their craft. This earned them a lot of respect but also a lot of advantages and money. This person is now wealthy and leaving very comfortably but this wasn't the case when they were a child. They became so succesful that they may now be their own boss. They earned enough money to be able to open their own business or work independantly. If this person is an artist for instance, they fund their own work with their own money. They may own their own label or they're just a solo artist because they've gained enough of an audience and enough resources to be able to do so. This is just one example among many. They could be working freelance on different projects or own a brand of some sort. It could be anything really. If not that, then they have a higher status within their work environment compared to when they started.

For most of you, I feel like your FS is older than you. There's a stark contrast between you not only because of your age but also because of your maturity and life experience. I feel like you would be very intimidated by this person at first but also, because of everything I mentioned before, you may start off with a bad impression of them because of how other people depict them or gossip you may have heard. You could start off as rivals or "ennemies" so to speak. Also, I get the feeling that when you first meet them, you will think that they are disinterested in you or that they don't like you.

Despite their intimidating façade, this person is actually incredibly kind and loving. They are very sweet and sensitive, but they don't show that aspect of themselves to a lot of people. They have huge trust issues and they struggle with intimacy. They are hyper independant and they tend to repress their emotions, especially their sadness, through humor. They're the type of person that will act like a clown and make jokes to distract themselves and others from the fact that they are not okay. If you talk with this person and start to get deep by bringing up intimate subjects, they are likely to swiftly change the subject or disguise the truth by joking around. They may exagerate certain traits to make themselves appear stronger or cooler and take away the vulnerable aspects of the story. Let's say this person got into a fight and was hurt in the process. Maybe the true reason why they got into this fight was because they were drunk after breaking up with their past lover and a person's attitude didn't sit right with them in that specific setting. When they tell you the story, they may omit the fact they were at their lowest and emphasize how brave they were to stand up and interfere because a person twice their size was bothering another customer. That kind of thing.

This person has a problem with expressing their feminine side and showing emotion. They do not talk about themselves much or if they do, they always make sure it isn't too personal. They tend to mask a lot of their pain, a lot of their fears. They hide behind a mask to cover up for the fact that they are in truth really sensitive and insecure about themselves. I get the message that this person struggles with their feminine side because of a masculine figure in their life. Growing up, they were taught that they shouldn't cry or let people see their "weakness". They were taught that showing affection wasn't safe. They were criticized for their soft nature and had to become tougher with time to be able to make it through. Again, I get a neurodivergent vibe from this person, which is similar to group 1. Maybe you felt drawn to that group as well.

They are very passionate and invested in whatever is going on around them. I feel like they are very active political wise and that ties down to their issues with injustice. This person either does a lot of community work or advocates for a lot of causes. They may use their influence and means of communication to raise awareness around certain subjects. I'm specifically picking up on mental health issues and struggles surrounding one's body image, speaking up against racism, bullying, sexual harassment at work. They have a lot of love to give and a sensitive side to them that they don't get to express very often but when they are in such setting that is when they can truly be themselves and wear their heart on their sleeve. You may see this person's gaze light up when they talk about subjects that interest them, things that are dear to their heart. I see this person doing a lot of random acts of kindness but on the lowkey. Things that would go unnoticed or that wouldn't seem that grand but that actually matters. Like putting flowers on someone's grave even though they didn't know them as a proof that someone cares about their passing. Leaving anonymous positive notes in books that they borrow from the library so that the next person is comforted and knows that they matter. Silently watching over children on the streets to ensure that they are safe and no one bothers them. Taking away an object that may be a source of danger for others. Giving away personal belongings by living them in random spots for other people to find them. Pretending like they're clumsy to get two people that like each other to be physically closer in the hopes that it will get things started.

I feel like this person's main love language is acts of services but sometimes they may also express their love in funny/quirky ways or unusual ways. Here are some specific things I am picking up on : making a list of all the things you like so that they know what to do when you feel down or how to surprise you on a specific event, using your go-to words or catch phrases on you to make you smile or laugh, taking interest in the things you like and trying them out to the point of being very specific about it and knowing every detail of it so you don't feel like you're alone and they can better understand you even if it makes them uncomfortable, including you in the things they do by leaving very specific tasks up to you even though they are perfectly capable of doing it on their own because they know it makes you happy, anticipating your needs in ways you wouldn't expect by keeping certain tools or products in close vicinity just in case, mimicking your stance/ your walking pace or any trait that you may be feeling insecure about so that you feel less insecure about it, making sure that you are not being left out during any social interaction and bringing the focus back to you in case you were interupted, countering your every self criticism with a reason why that exact thing is actually a good thing, expressing their opinion of you and how they feel for you in indirect ways by talking about things you remind them of (characters in movies, songs, things that are meaningful to them like a loved one for instance).

Looking at the picture you picked, I get the message that this person values beauty and the aesthetic of things and people. They give a lot of importance to appearances. They could be into home decor and interior design. They could also be into fashion. They may collect a lot of objects because of their aspect. Especially statues, paintings, traditional objects from different countries, floral ornaments. They like scented candles and incense. There is a specific flower that this person likes or they could have been named after a flower. Or they could be born on Flower Day (May 20), Rose Day (February 7), Valentine's Day (February 14), Yellow rose day (May 14 in Korea). Or overall as most flowers bloom during Spring, this season may be their favorite or may have some significance to your connection. I'm not sure what the flower on the picture is, but its shape and color reminded me of blue Hydrangeas.

Group 3

"I release my need to be right. I am defenseless and at peace." "When I lead from a place of love people respect me." " I bring peace wherever I go." White Numen Tarot : Magician, queen of wands, Judgement, Sun, 3 of swords

I don't care oracle : Close your curtains close your eyes sleep, Stop doing so much, Infinity x Infinity , I'm not okay, I am always a child

This person loves animals. They are very popular with animals. They may want to own a pet but they may be allergic to pet fur or they just don't have the opportunity to have one because of their lifestyle. They can both embody a cat like and a puppy like energy. They are very balanced and can both embody feminine and masculine energy very well because they've done a lot of shadow work.

They grew up in an abusive household and/or have dealt with a lot of abuse in their life. This lead them to becoming "mature" too soon for their age. They had to parent themselves and now as an adult they may be described as immature by others because they didn't have the opportunity to do what other children usually do growing up. They had to deal with many responsibilities very early on in their life, either because their parents didn't show up the way they should have or because they left home pretty early on for various reasons. Because of that, they have a hard time letting go of the need to control and asking for help.

One of the ways this person copes with whatever issues they have is by being active. They have a lot of various interests and they look like they never rest. This person's schedule is packed and timed perfectly. They always got something to do, someone to talk to, something to work on. They may struggle with insomnia. One of the reasons why they keep themselves so busy is to cover up for the fact that they feel lonely and scared on their own.

This person looks for meaningful and deep connections. When they feel comfortable with people, they can rant for days about the things that they like and be very quirky but if they do not have a good impression of you they'll remain as cold as an iceberg and you'll never get to see their depth. One of the ways you will be able to tell that your FS likes you is that they will act differently depending on whether they're with you or someone else. They'll do things with you that they wouldn't do with others. Show you sides of themselves that no one has seen. This person including you in their bubble will be a huge sign of their affection and trust. Especially, you meeting their family will be a huge thing because I feel like no one has gotten that opportunity before.

They are very confident in themselves, especially when it comes to their work and studies. They can ace anything you leave up to them as long as they know they've got your trust and things are explicit. However, if they feel like you're being shady or that you doubt them, this person's productivity will be affected dramatically. They struggle with impostor syndrom. They're also very quick to judge characters and they tend to have a strong intuition. So whenever this person tells you that they have a bad feeling about something, they are likely to be right.

They do not realize it bu they hold more power than they think and they are more popular than what they expect. This person is so humble that it would never cross their mind to put themselves forward and talk about their accomplishments. This is because of their upbringing. This person was lead to believe that they were not important and that no matter their achievements or efforts, they would never be enough to be taken seriously. Honestly this person has been through so much in their life that it's a miracle they still find the drive to carry on with a smile on their face. They are incredibly strong and admirable but they would never think that of themselves. They are their own worst enemy and critic. They don't like to be the center of attention but no matter what they do they just cannot escape it.

I feel like right away in your connection, you will intuitively feel very drawn to this person and very early on realize that they are your FS. Their will be something about their eyes that will immediately spark your interest. And everytime you will look into this person's eyes, you will not be able to hold their gaze because of the intensity of what you feel when looking at them. This may be something that they tease you about later on in your connection. I also pick up on a setting or an action that is unusual when you meet them. There will be something that will set you off about this person or maybe you will do something that they are not used to. And that will be the spark that ignites the whole thing. The reason I am saying that is because on the "I am always a child" card, the character depicted is walking barefoot on the street and one of their foot is in the mud. They are very neetly dressed and yet, without a care in the world, they are risking getting all dirty and being laughed at. It looks a bit out of place or out of the ordinary. Here are some things I am picking up on that maybe will speak to you : being the only person that didn't follow the dresscode at a party, walking up the stairs with a bunch of heavy grocery bags when you could have used the elevator, being the only person in the gym that sings to their workout playlist and gets hyped up while everyone else is just quietly sweating it out, being the only person that dares to talk back to the other or makes a comment about a specific touchy subject, being the only person to actually be educated about a specific topic that they're interested into while the others just have a surface level understanding of it, not showing them any sign of interest when other people are desperately trying to get their attention.

Looking at the picture you chose, this person could live by an important body of water. This could also be a sign that they are a very emotional individual. They may be into water sports like surfing, swimming, scuba diving. They could enjoy fishing. They may eat a lot of sea food. When travelling, they may prefer warm places such as islands over the country side or places like mountains. They may prefer Summer over other seasons.

Group 4

"My high vibe thoughts create health in my body, peace in my mind and love in my heart." "Let me be still today and listen to the truth in silence." "The more I honor my inner light the more I brighten the world. I choose to shine."

White Numen tarot : King of wands, 9 of wands, 7 of wands, knight of pentacles, 5 of pentacles

Sorry not sorry, Turn your tongue 7 times in your mouth before you speak, I've got super powers, Tomorrow is another day, Don't be fooled by my appearance my soul is resplendent

Based on your picture, the first thing I pick up on is that you may firstly interact with this person at a distance, either being penpals or through social media/dating apps. The picture also gives me a feeling of nostalgia. This may be someone that you reconnect with after a long time being a part. Daisies is the birth flower of people born in April. So it could be your or their birth month, or you could meet during this month. This person could be a childhood friend or your relationship could start of as friends and evolve into something more over time. I also can't help but to think of Disney's Daisy and Princess Daisy from the Mario lore. So your person gives off a very innocent vibe upon first glance but they turn out to be stronger and smarter than they appear. Though people may think of them as superficial, frail or shallow they are actually have a lot more depth and are very sensitive. This person may tend to be underestimated or overlooked, people may wrongly assume their character because of the way they look. Which feels a bit similar to group 2's person's energy so maybe you felt drawn to that group as well.

Your FS is a very spiritual person and they developped that spirituality through hardships and adversity. They possibly dealt with bullying as a child. This person was lead to believe that they didn't deserve affection, care, help. They spent most of their life being on their own and having to protect themselves because the adults around them where not creating a safe space for them. They have huge trust issues and are hyper independent. They do not know how to ask for help and do everything by themselves. They're the type of person that wants to be recognized solely for their skills and hard work. If someone were to help them or gift them something, they would think that they are not worthy of it because they haven't worked for it or earned it. Their notion of value is distorted because of the way they were raised as a child.

They are originally a very bright and cheerful person but life turned them into a bitter and cold person. Many times in their life, they were shown aspects of humanity that made them lose faith and hope. They were constantly lied to, disregarded, manipulated. People abused their kindness and generosity, treated them badly under the disguise of friendship or love. This person grew to believe that love wasn't meant for them. So when you meet them, they'll likely avoid you and run away from you at first. They'll have a hard time believing that your feelings for them are genuine and they may keep you at arms length for quite a while.

They fear intimacy. This will show in their distate for physical touch and public displays of affection. In their constant need for space and independance, for control within the relationship. Ironically, though they need a lot of space and free range of action, they will show a lot of possessiveness and jealousy especially if you are separated. This connection really gives me ennemies to lovers vibe. They will hate to love you and love to hate you. The beginning stages of your relationship may be quite rocky because of this person's fears and issues. However, because they will be very attached to you and protective over you they will understand the need for them to heal those aspects of their personality for you connection to be healthy and lasting. This is also because they have a strong sense of responsibility and want to be perceived in a good light by their loved ones.

This person is very charismatic and sensual. Chances are that a lot of eyes will be on them and a lot of people will want to pursue them, even while you are dating. They face a lot of envy and jealousy generally speaking but they will face even more adversity once they are with you. Which could interfere in your connection. There will be a lot of gossip about you, especially career wise. People in their work sphere specifically will not understand why your dynamic is working when you seem so different from one another. This will stem mostly from a lack mindset. Even their family could get involved in the drama. Since this person is very popular and likely succesful in their work, people may say things like you could be a threat to their reputation or question your motives for dating this person.

Even though their attraction for you will be very clear and obvious, this person will do everything in their power to ignore it and resist the pull to the point where it may look completely crazy to you and ridiculous. You may think "why is such a mature person acting in such a childish way, this is so unlike them". They'll make choices and actions that you will not understand and could attempt to sabotage the connection. But the more they will try to run away from you the closer they're gonna get because the Universe will not be having any of their BS and you won't either. Every time they will try to ignore or avoid you, they will be reminded of you or forced to face you in some type of way. This person could be trying to flirt with other people to forget about you, they may even straight up date another person thinking that you would disappear from their life. But the people they will interact with will be very similar to you or coincidentally they will be in your circle. If this person is working in a similar occupation, circumstances will have them working with you. They could choose to move out in a new location thinking they would avoid you but it turns out that you frequently go to that place because a family member lives nearby or your doctor's office is located in the same street. If you are a parent, maybe their kid goes to the same school as yours. And so on and so forth. Every time they turn on the radio, they'll hear songs that remind them of you. They'll see or hear your name quite often or will be confronted with something you like every day.

Specifically, I pick up that this person could be a coffee addict but maybe the way they like their coffee is very different to yours and this may be something you passionately debated on. They also have a thing for plants and flowers. They wear glasses or they have a bad eyesight. You could have "argued" about being too blunt and not knowing how to read the room. I don't know why I keep writing in past tense. Maybe for some of you that's a confirmation you already know this person. If that isn't your case, maybe this will be something that happens later on in your connection. I really get the feeling that something about this person will just get on your nerves when you first meet. Like the way they talk or how they dress. Maybe the setting in which you meet will give you a wrong impression of this person. Especially if a lot of people are badmouthing them and spreading false rumors about them.

This person is a loner. They spend most of their time alone, either at work or in their personal life. They are very guarded and introverted. They barely leave their home unless it's very important. They may have a fear of crowds and enclosed spaces. However, when they are able to trust someone they are very kind and giving, a total opposite of what people may depict them as. They have a very healing presence that stems from all the hardships they faced over time. This person uses their own experience to help people heal and expand. They could be a therapist, a reiki practitioner, someone that uses alternative medicine like herbology, crystal healing and such.

They have a lot on their plate. They struggle with mental health issues and it isn't something they openly talk about with anyone. However, if this person sees someone going through hardships, they will be the first one to reach out and provide help and support. This person believes in the law of attraction and also in fate. They know when to pay attention to the details which could also explain why they are so succesful in life but people may not see that side of them and just belive that your FS has it easy because of their wealth, their background, their looks. When in reality, this person is the most hardworking individual you'll ever know. And when you get to see that side of them, you will really admire and respect them.

[charkoal]

Thinking about the parallels in this show even within the episode ordering of both seasons and the small details mirrored across them.

Episode 1 - Starts with a historic tragedy in a city (the bridge for Zaun, the council bombing for Piltover) and showing the devastating loss of a parent as consequence

Episode 2 - After being focused on the characters in the original setting, we shift focus to the sister city and it's inhabitants

Episode 3 - Vi loses everyone she loves and is left alone. Someone hitting their loved one in the heat of the moment (Vi hitting Powder, Caitlyn hitting Vi). At the end we see a change in authority, the rise of a new, darker leader for the cities (Silco for Zaun, Caitlyn for Piltover) and the beginning of the villain arc for a blue-haired character (Powder/Jinx in S1, Caitlyn in S2)

Episode 4 - Vi is not shown at all during the episode (except at the very end for S1). Jinx ventures topside to wreak havoc

Episode 5 - Vi has to learn how to work with someone she perceives as an enemy (Caitlyn in S1, Jinx in S2)

Episode 6 - Caitlyn and Vi begin to trust (or learn how to again) each other. Vi returns to her childhood home (taken there by Caitlyn after being stabbed in S1, shown kneeling by the same pillar used to mark her and Jinx's heights in S2). By the end of the episode, things look promising (Vi finding Jinx in S1, the family being together in S2) only for everything to be torn away (Jinx seeing Cait and losing it before the Firelights separate them, Jayce-although I understand why now-killing Viktor and triggering the collapse and Isha sacrificing herself). Also Caitlyn supporting Vi's weight after she's been injured.

Episode 7 - Ekko finally makes a reappearance after being gone for all of Act II, Ekko and Jinx centered, Ekko seeing a glimpse of Powder before losing her again, painful all around but beautifully done

Episode 8 - Vi and Caitlyn have a moment (break up in S1, sex™ in S2), someone pleading for a cause in the council room (Vi for Piltover's support against Silco, Jayce for Zaun's support against Viktor), Jinx solidifying her hate for Caitlyn in S1 with her shimmer hallucinations vs giving Vi her blessing to be with her in S2. Also Caitlyn is naked in both episodes just saying (shower scene in S1 and the™ scene in S2)

Episode 9 - Vi loses her sister, but she isn't truly lost (she becomes Jinx in S1 but we see in later episodes that she can still be good, she dies in S2 but we see at the end that she probably escaped through the air ducts), Caitlyn's life is changed forever because of what she chose to do in the season (losing her mom in S1 because she chose to investigate deeper, losing her eye in S2 because she let herself be manipulated by Ambessa). Jayce and Viktor's fates are left to speculation again (did they survive the explosion in S1, where are they or did they die in S2). Jinx ends up alone again, but instead of killing someone she loved (Silco), she saved someone she loved (Vi). She also saves Vi in both finales by killing her father (Silco, who was going to shoot Vi, and Vander who was going to shred her to pieces). The S2 ending is happier than S1 but it doesn't necessarily feel good, still bittersweet and melancholy. Caitlyn and Vi leaning on each other (out of necessity in S1 and out of love in S2) as their last appearances of the season

The list goes on and on, but despite some of the things I think that could've been executed better or paced differently this season, I still think the care and attention to detail put into this show is unmatched and I've loved every second of watching Arcane in its entirety.

[toxintouch]

Started out as an elaborate “draw me like one of your French girls” joke and spiraled outta control from there... @lu-dao-writes posted the same scenario in their Kinktober 2024 and they were kind enough to give me their blessing to post my take! Please check out their fics as well!  If this scenario in particular interests you, I rec you this post! :3

Further details below the cut so that the above the cut stays safe for anyone who is just scrolling through!

18+ Content MDNI || VERE x AIS x Reader

PROMPT/KINK(S): Dom!Vere, Dacryphilia (Tears)* + Cockwarming + Size Difference + Consensual Voyeurism. Power Play. (Some feral monsterfucking spice sprinkled v lightly on top.) [*original challenge prompt, randomizer used.]

OTHER INFO: “You” pronouns used for MC/Reader. Unspecified genitalia for both POV Character and Vere but Ais has a dick. Reader is the receiving partner in penetrative sex.

“Hmm, hold that pose,” Vere purrs.

Ais huffs a hot breath into your face as he freezes above you.  His brows furrow, mouth twisting into a determined grimace as he grits his teeth.  His forearms tense hard where they are resting on either side of you, fingers flexing against the silken sheets.

You can feel him pulsing inside of you.  A hot, insistent ache.

You try to relax, try to breathe through it but the lack of movement makes you hyper aware of every inch, the raw feeling of him stretching you open, the way your body twitches so sickly-sweet with the effort.  You inhale a slow, shaking breath, chest trembling, and shut your eyes in an attempt to block out some of the sensations—the clawing need gnawing at your core.

“Eyes open, darling,” Vere corrects you, tone somewhere firmly between scolding and teasing.  “And turn your face back towards Ais.  I’m trying to capture the moment .”  Your heart is pounding in your ears but you can hear Vere’s smooth, sly voice with perfect clarity.  Ais is an overwhelming force but Vere is a magnetic presence; no matter how caught up in each other you and Ais can get, Vere will always command attention without effort.

You turn your chin as requested, only to be caught in Ais’ gaze

(Caught and breathless–the same way you were when he was bullying his thick length into your hole, thrusting sharply and sighing in satisfaction, his fingers still at work massaging and pressing and stroking as he sunk into you inch by inch; he'd prepared you until your entrance was puffy and swollen, sopping with thick, medicinal smelling lube and he still had to take his time.  Fucking you slowly until you could take all of him.  And then, the moment you finally could...)

“Hmm, that's better.  Stay just like that.  Let me see those pretty expressions.”  You hear Vere adjusting his heavy vellum paper.  The glide of quick, clever lines being drawn.

You maintain eye contact with Ais, drunk off his breath, his body, the very essence of him, hovering so close above you, and are utterly unprepared to meet his intensity.  The way he looks at you like he’s seconds from devouring you, barely held in check by the challenge that Vere has laid before him.  Before both of you.

You bite into your lower lip as you shift involuntarily, oversensitive nerves still riding the throbbing of Ais’ dick.  He’s so fucking thick and girthy that he presses at the soft spot inside you without even trying. The angry pulse of him is a gratifying thrum, stoking your aching heat by way of mere burgeoning contact.

His cock gives another strong twitch and your insides clench around him.  He feels so fucking good–you almost think you might be able to come like this, if you can get your body to keep on clenching like that. 

—Almost.

Your next breath comes out as a sob.  There’s a high pitched whine building at the base of your throat and your lashes are wet when you blink.

A monstrous snarl escapes Ais’ lips, one that you can feel even more than you can hear, the vibration of it echoing through your body everywhere you're pressed against him.  The pinnacle between your thighs pulses with it, and your toes curl involuntarily as an errant tear runs down your cheek.  Ais is shaking, sweat dampening his face, his pupils expanding and contracting rapidly, his eyes locked on you as he barely holds himself back.  “Sparrow,” he says, gravel in his tone. 

You say his name in return, your head tipping involuntarily, bearing the softness of your throat, faded marks from both your lovers decorating your skin.  You hear the sheets rip below you, torn into shreds where Ais’ nails have dug into them.

Vere sighs pointedly.  You hear him stop his work, tap his charcoal against the paper as if he’s not entirely satisfied with the scene in front of him.  He pauses for a long time, leaving you both in limbo.

When he moves, it’s to stand.  To saunter over to you both.  You’re pinned beneath Ais, unable to look away, but you can feel Vere’s shadow fall over you just before his hand touches your face, forcing your eyes to his as he catches a crystalline tear with his index finger.

“Shame,” he says, dipping his fingers into his mouth, his tongue lapping up the taste of your tears, lavishing the digits with his tongue.  You whine out a desperate, quiet note just from watching his tongue at work and he basks knowingly in the attention.  “I really thought I could get you both crying.”  He smiles dangerously once his fingers have left his mouth. 

He uses them to drag a wet path down Ais' spine.  “Oh, but the night is still young.  Perhaps I may still think of something that will do the trick...”

18+ Master List | SFW Master List ✦"Kinktober Speedrun & Other Gratuitous (TOUCHSTARVED) Smut" on Ao3

[pupkou]

✧ Blood and Darkness ✧

✦ Zagreus (Hades 2018) x Gender Neutral Reader. ✦ Warnings: slight mentions of gore (no details; in the game, Zagreus is killed over and over and is often covered in blood), head injury (reader is hurt, non-fatally, and is knocked out by hitting their head), mentions of Zagreus’ sexual escapades (no descriptions), reader is a servant of the house of Hades and is described as a shade, no smut (😞)... yet (😏). ✦ Word Count: 2.2K. ✦ Read on AO3. ✦ Part 1 / ?

You've heard rumors about Hades' son.

They say he's not in possession of a particularly impressive stature; he's of average height, with dark hair, and he's quite thin, really, for a God. That's what he is, after all, just a God of the Underworld. One of many. And one who looks like he's not indulging himself in ambrosia and nectar as much as he should be at that, it almost seems like he's ungrateful for all the blessings and curses that come along with being the Prince of the Underworld.

They describe him as far smaller and more pathetic than Achilles, their blush showing on their ghostly complexions as they describe how his hair is cropped close to his neck and black and unflowing, not at all like the golden locks that fall around Achilles' nape.

Oh, Achilles, why must you torture us with your divine beauty and arrogant sneer? We know our ghastly, hellish faces are unworthy of your gaze, but a small, simple kindness-- in the form of a smile from your handsome face-- would satisfy us for eternities to come. By Achilles, by Thetis, and by Zeus, please let him stroll by and be pleased by something enough to smile for us, even if his pleasure comes from our misery. Surely, one of us can think of something to poke fun at Hector... much like the spear of Achilles' poked at his neck... surely so, surely so...

They... say a lot of things, but they always call him Zagreus, which means 'great hunter'. But by the rumors you've heard, it... doesn't seem like Zagreus' name fits him very well. In Tartarus' maze, everything becomes prey to those that inhabit the different levels of death and despair that come before you feel the sun's warm embrace, or so you've heard. You've never actually felt the sun, but you have heard Achilles brag about it to Hades, reminding the king of his very eventful life on earth. The sun doesn't reach this far down, though, and is unable to illuminate the depths of Hades' realm or comfort those who call it home. Here, predators lurk around every moss-covered turn, under every magma-concealing rock, behind every skullified hero's dug-up grave, and even amongst the distinguished guests that frequent the house of Hades.

From the whispers you've strained to hear, it seems like Zagreus wants out of this place-- the Underworld, that is. The shades, your main source of information on Zagreus and the other residents of the house, love to gossip, and they say he's still not been successful in escaping the darkness that has consumed him since he was born. Some root for him, hoping that one day his laurels will know what it feels like to soak in the blazing sun like the blessed olive trees they were harvested from, while others laugh at his failure, joining Hypnos' chorus of dramatic mocking, when they see him rise from the blood once again.

He's always covered in it, head to toe, deep red and maroon coating his limbs and soaking from his limbs as if it were his own. Much of it is, considering the amount of times he's died, but that doesn't make it any less pitiful to see the Prince rise from the fluid of life (and death), unrelenting in his attempts to escape his home. He'd hardly call it that, of course, as you've heard him say as he climbs the marble steps leading from the pool of blood, wiping his glowing feet on the carpet that you think was one of Arachne's (hence its purpose being for Zagreus to wipe his bloody feet on.)

The thing about marble-- what the house of Hades is made out of-- is that it doesn't absorb sound in the slightest. It's a curse for embarrassed shades trying to quietly explain how they arrived in Tartarus early because their pet goat rammed them in the stomach, but a blessing for beings like you who get most of their daily excitement from the things that they hear refracted off of the cool stone walls.

Marble also doesn't quickly absorb any liquid poured onto its surface, despite being a porous stone, which means that you, one of the poor shades tasked with cleaning, have a lot of work to do. Guests in the house get rowdy at the kitchen bar sometimes, drinking too much ambrosia and leaving various liquids behind. Sometimes water from the river Styx drips from cracks in the ceiling, pooling and causing problems for anyone whose flesh comes in contact with the liquid. And on the worst days, the most stubborn of fluid comes in contact with the objects you're in charge of keeping tidy.

One of Cerberus' heads is a particularly messy eater, which means that sometimes droplets of blood from a cut of meat (or carcass) he's eating are flung onto precious objects. Another guest, who is said to be armed with a barbed whip, has been said to make her victims cry blood on occasion, staining the good dinner napkins and frustrating you profusely. But by far, the being who makes the worst, bloody messes, is Zagreus himself.

Despite him wiping his feet on the carpet and despite your polite suggestion to him-- a sheet for him to dry off with laid over the marble railing, Zagreus continuously trails blood all over the house. And it doesn't help that the Prince behaves like a dog, prodding at his ears when they're clogged with blood and scratching at his head to dislodge it from his scalp. He's even shook like a filthy mutt before, letting drops of blood fly from his dark hair and unknowingly creating hours of cleanup for you. You've always been forgiving, though, considering that for one, you don't have much of a choice, and two, that you've never actually spoken to Zagreus in all of your years working for the house. You've heard his name boomed in anger from Hades' decision chamber, whispered by a loose-lipped shade with an audience to entertain, and uttered during more private affairs when you shouldn't have been pressing an ear to the dark wood of his bedchamber.

But things happen. And you've never met him, so you don't feel too bad or worry too much about ever being in his presence. He's always gone anyway, wooing an undead maiden when he's not fighting to flee the house, you presume. So when you enter his bedroom dust off his belongings and collect his blood and gut soiled robes, you pay little attention to your surroundings.

You've been in his sleeping chambers many times since you've been trusted with entry, something the other cleaning shades consider a privilege. You scoff at the idea that cleaning up the Prince's dirty laundry, various collected knickknacks, and... bodily fluids is at all a privilege, but you do as you're told anyway because admittedly, it is interesting to be provided with such an intimate view of someone you've never met. There's so much to be told by someone's bedroom, or in Zagreus' case, the state of someone's sheets (his always are in various stages of disarray from his frequent activities held within the bedchamber), and you don't at all mind the exclusive perspective on the Prince.

You do, however, mind that he tracks blood everywhere. Usually, you're more aware of it, considering how much of your life you spend cleaning it up, but this time, you're not so lucky as to notice its presence. Abnormally, the carpet that cushions the foot of Zagreus' bed is kicked up in one spot so that when you move to straighten the books on his bookshelf, not only do you trip on the carpet, but you slip in a pool of blood, streaking it across the tile as you fall hard onto the floor. The force with which your head hits the hard, stone floor would surely have killed you had you not died ages ago, but in this extended lifetime, all it does is send the lower half of your body into the bookshelf's feet, knocking books, scrolls, and what are surely precious artifacts from Zagreus' journeys flying to the floor in a great crash that shakes and echoes through the room.

Although you're thoroughly disoriented and on the verge of passing out, you still hear a gravelly, skeletal voice in the distance say, "Maybe you'd better investigate that, boyo. Unless you don't got the guts! I sure don't! Ha ha ha!" before your eyes close and your mind descends to darkness.

✧✧✧

Rest, even when injury is involved, is rare for a servant of Hades like you, and it feels like only a moment has passed before your eyes are opening again, drowsy and weak as the lids flutter open. While you can't quite understand why yet, you notice that you're lying on a bed softer than a cloud and warmer than the sun (as you imagine it), and that soft voices are speaking in hushed tones nearby. One is older than the other, and commands the other to be more quiet as he worries, as though he's fretting about you.

Your sight comes back to you gradually, and you see that a red blanket with golden lining is draped over your legs and midsection comfortably, keeping you warm and still as the shocks of the pain from your head pulse through your body. Your neck hurts too, but it retains just enough of its strength that you're able to lift your hurting head and see the two forms hovering at the bedside, far enough to indicate that they were worried you might spring up like an undead warrior looking for revenge, but concerned enough that they needed to stay close.

The one on the left, who's farther from you, is a reanimated human's skeleton. A Bloodless, as they're called, was once a mortal warrior that did not receive a proper burial, and is now forced to roam the Underworld aimlessly, looking for a fight that might bring them eternal peace. It's a foolish game to play, of course, as all wise men know that no war will ever bring peace. This Bloodless doesn't seem mindless like the others though, and is able to make eye contact with his bright red irises, although he seems uncomfortable doing so. He looks at his partner when you meet his gaze.

His partner stands closer to you, his face full of concern as it points at you, studying you. He's not very tall, but he's muscular as if he uses his body more than the average God trapped in Tartarus for all of eternity, and the half of his torso that's revealed lacks scarring-- in the dimness of the room, it's almost like his skin is glowing faintly. His face is kind and handsome, unlike anyone you've ever seen before. On top of his short, dark hair rests a loop of multi-colored laurels whose crimson color fades into red, which fades into copper, which fades into gold.

It sits on his head like a crown, much like the dark-haired child in the portrait of Cerberus that hangs in the great hall wore, you think. Identical to it, even. You've never actually stopped to read the plaque that hangs beneath the masterpiece, so you're not sure who the child or his companions are or what their names could be-- you just know that he is of the utmost importance to Hades considering he is the center of a few artistic representations, which Hades isn't often fond of. But before you can begin your quest to discover the identity of the child in the portrait, he speaks.

"Hello, dear friend," he says softly. "Can you hear me?"

You swallow, hoping your voice still works, and say, "Yes."

"Woah! This one's got no respect for royalty! They just employ any- body these days! Ha!" the Bloodless jokes, elbowing his partner in the ribs humorously. Unfortunately for him, his partner doesn't laugh, he just keeps his attention steady on you, his heterochromatic eyes caring as they watch you. In any other case, he would push the Bloodless over and reduce him (temporarily) to a scattered pile of bones, but there are things more important to worry about than someone’s mistimed joke. 

At the skeleton’s words, your stomach drops as all the blood rushes to your head all at once, and your heart starts beating so hard you can hear it in your ears, a pounding rhythm usually reserved for life-or-death situations. Suddenly, the room becomes familiar again-- the picture frames you've dusted and the knickknacks you've arranged and the blankets you've straightened thousands of times become clear to you.

You're in Zagreus' bedroom.

Prince Zagreus' bedroom.

And you're lying in his bed.

And the man, who was once a baby with a crown of laurels forced (by magic) to sit still for a portrait, is right in front of you.

The one person in the house of Hades who you've never come in contact with is standing at your bedside because you slipped in his blood.

You are so extremely damned. Somehow, even more than the first time you got damned to Tartarus for all eternity.

Blood and darkness.

✧✧✧

tagging people I think might like this <3

@vampireloverz @allright @transchainsawman @moonsong1027 <3

[cappulcino]

hi!! saw your requests were open!! I dont have anything super specific in mind but an enemies to lovers plot with a lucifer x angel reader would be very cool!

Sure! I was originally going to write the whole thing and post it as a one-shot here, but I got overexcited with this idea and couldn't resist turning this into multiple short chapters and already giving you the first one (idk, let me know if you'd rather have the whole thing when it's done).

Seven Days Til Fall (Part 1)

Part 1 – Part 2 – Part 3 – Part 4 – Part 5 – Part 6 – Part 7

Read on AO3

Words: 2,185

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader

Summary: You're an angel sent on a divine mission to retrieve a powerful relic that has been stolen from Heaven. The orders are clear: gain an audience with the Devil, make deals with them if necessary, anything to return that object to the Silver City. But Hell is not quite what you expected, and neither is Lucifer.

Trigger warnings: None in this chapter (let me know if you think I should add some)

In the beginning, this assembly had seemed no different from the other monotonous celestial meetings the Divine Council liked to conduct. The session was strictly organised and full of unnecessary details, as per usual, golden light shone through the large windows, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the Silver City –routine, in short.

But now the Archangel Michael was calling your name, and you weren't so sure this would be your typical angelic meeting any more. Nobody ever called your name, it wasn't among those that mattered. Why was he calling your name?

Straightening your slouched back and wings, you answered with uncertainty. "Y-Yes?"

Michael offered a fake smile before returning to his bureaucratic demeanour, his hands joined only by the fingertips on the table.

"As you know, the Cup of Eternal Grace has been missing for quite some time now."

"The… Cup of Eternal Grace. Missing. Yes."

You had forgotten about that –your mind had surely deemed that to be another 'unnecessary detail' from one of the previous assemblies. But it was coming back to you now. The chalice, made of celestial metals and inlaid with precious stones had the power to bestow divine grace upon those who drank from it, offering visions, blessings, and, for humans, even limited immortality. And indeed, the artefact had been lost for a while.

Michael's eyes narrowed at your hesitation, but he continued.

"One of our emissaries on Earth had found a lead on the Cup tracing back to some… obscure cult. Unfortunately, by the time he got there, the humans had traded with a demon –they do like to do this for a reason that escapes me. We now have cause to believe the Cup is in Hell."

"I see," you said slowly after a short silence. You weren't sure why this had anything to do with you.

"Its presence in Hell could easily disrupt order or worse, be used to bargain with divine entities. It cannot stay there. We need someone to retrieve it," Michael replied as if annoyed to have to spell out the evidence for you.

Ah, now you understood.

"Me?"

"Yes. You."

That Heaven could have so foolishly lost an object that had the potential to tip the balance of the entire universe when in the wrong hands was already astonishing to you. But to entrust you with the task of going to Hell, assuredly face its ruler, and retrieve the Cup? That was hardly believable, and for an angel like you, who had to Believe, that said something. Why didn't Michael go himself?

"I… don't understand. I'm merely a Dominion, and the Morningstar is Your sibling, Your Grace."

"Yes, so that's your job."

That was Gabriel talking down to you as if you had just uttered the most unintelligent thing in front of the whole congregation.

"Besides, we're not going to waste our time when others have been designated for that kind of risky stuff. That would be…" He let out an inelegant snort-laugh.

"What Gabriel means," Uriel intervened in their usual soft-spoken voice, "is that angels among the higher ranks have other matters to attend to, but we cannot ask this of anyone with lesser powers. And well, it is your function to execute divine orders." Uriel paused, scrutinizing your expression. "Would we be making a mistake by putting our faith in you?"

You gulped.

"N-No."

"Good."

Plans had been made, and you were now approaching the gates of Hell. Protocol required that you banged a sort of gong by the entrance, and a dead mortal fused into the wall handed you a mallet. You had read somewhere once that the Damned made Hell what it was. At the time, you hadn't understood that meant this realm was literally made of the Damned. You winced and then, forcing the politeness out of your angelic mouth with a small "Thank you", you grabbed the tool.

The gong's echo made the other souls trapped around the gates scream and then, accompanying heavy steps, a deep voice growled.

"There's one at the door. At the gate of damnation. Is it thief, thug or–"

Squatterbloat, the gatekeeper suddenly froze in his speech when his gaze landed upon you. An angel, in Hell. Quite the unusual sight.

"Whore?"

"Peace be upon you, demon."

As you uttered them, you realised how ironic your words sounded. Squatterbloat chuckled.

"We don't accept holy brochures."

His sense of humour compensated for his dreadful looks, and you managed to stop your wings from shuddering.

"That is not why I'm here."

"Then state that business of yours."

"I seek an audience with your sovereign."

"Do you now, little cloud-hopper? I fear the Devil doesn't have time for your affairs."

You approached the gate, your wings spreading in a foolish attempt to appear menacing, your tone still polite but steely.

"I am an envoy of Heaven, and the matter is urgent. Even you cannot go against God's will, demon. Take me to your master."

Squatterbloat's eyes remained fixated on yours for an instant, and then, his keys jangled.

"Mmh. Right this way… If you dare."

"Oh, what a joyous day," Lucifer purred with a faint smile before relaxing on their throne with a sigh. "Can you feel it, Mazikeen? The innocence? So pure."

"Shall I ask for more guards to stand by Your side?"

"That will not be necessary. That little angel is no threat to Us."

You were certain the ruler of Hell had sensed your arrival –how could they not?– and your suspicions were immediately confirmed when you entered the room. Sitting regally on their throne, the Lightbringer did not even bat an eye as they eyed you and the heavenly glow that surrounded your body. If anything, they seemed… amused.

You had heard many stories about them –though most of those tales still spoke of a Samael– but you had never seen them. Imagery was forbidden in Heaven, of the Devil more than anyone else, and you had never been down to Earth to look at the various depictions humans had made of them either. Therefore, you took a moment to marvel at their appearance, so foreign and yet so familiar, and as your gaze roamed over their leathery wings, you wondered if that was what became of angels' wings after the Fall.

In fact, you wondered about so many things at once that you almost forgot your manners. But Mazikeen's insistent look quickly pulled you out of your reverie.

"Uh, yes. Apologies. Peace be upon You, Lucifer Morningstar," you greeted with a slight bow of your head. "And upon you, Mazikeen of the Lillim." It sounded even sillier than when you had said it to Squatterbloat.

Lucifer let out a small chuckle then and exchanged looks with Mazikeen. Then, as they turned to face you again, they smiled.

"It is unusual for Our Father to send His subjects down here. Almost an event, We might say. To what do We owe the pleasure?"

Lucifer's words dripped from their mouth like honey, and you weren't sure whether you found it more captivating or terrifying.

"Well?"

You shook your head and straightened your back some more to give yourself a semblance of presence, and undertook to explain why Michael had sent you here.

"Our dear brother has never liked getting his pristine hands dirty," Lucifer remarked once you were done.

They stood up, took a few slow steps in your direction with a thoughtful expression, and then stopped a mere yard away from you. The way they towered over you and the power they radiated felt overwhelming, and a shiver ran through the feathers of your wings.

"It is not a task fit for his rank," you said. And for a brief moment, you almost convinced yourself of what Gabriel had told you earlier today. Almost.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow as if seeing right through you and perfectly understanding the lack of conviction in your own words. A doubtful angel. Oh, this day could not get any better.

"Tell Us," they said, now pacing through their throne room. "What do We gain from helping you?"

The question startled you. What did the Devil gain from obeying God for once? Not another divine punishment, that's what.

"Excuse me?"

"We said, what do We gain from helping you with your task? We sure hope you did not come all the way to Our domain expecting a pretty smile to be sufficient to convince Us."

That… serpent. You clenched your jaw, resisting a sudden urge to speak from your heart while Lucifer kept on smirking devilishly.

Taking a deep breath, you chose to show yourself open to discussion instead.

"What is it You wish for, Lightbringer?"

Lucifer pretended to think about it, gazing into the vastness of their realm, and then spoke firmly.

"A single visit to the Silver City."

Your heart stopped.

"And open the gates for You to terrorise us or attack the Creator? Absolutely not."

"Then forget about the chalice."

"The Morningstar may believe angels are foolish, naive creatures, but I assure You I'm not that stupid."

Your defiance intrigued Lucifer, who gauged you for a second.

"No…" they eventually said. "Indeed. Which is why We are fairly certain you will know how to convince the Divine Council. Tell them We have no intentions of wreaking havoc in their home if that is what they are so worried about."

"Then why?" you asked somewhat harshly.

"You would not understand."

"Your Majesty, I–"

"There will be no need for further discussion, little angel. Either you manage to get Us what We want and We will do everything in Our power to help you, or the Cup of Eternal Grace remains in Hell. In which case, do not even bother coming back."

"They said what?"

"The Morningstar wishes to be able to visit the Silver City, Your Grace. Just once."

You were now standing in the bright room where the heavenly meeting that had got you sent to Hell had been held a few hours ago, alone in front of the five members of the Divine Council. You felt small, but not as small as you had felt in front of the ruler of Hell.

"Yes, we heard that part," Azrael replied rather angrily.

Somehow, their tone managed to make you feel as if you had already failed your mission, and it took a lot of self-persuasion to stand your ground. You were only repeating what you had been told, after all.

"They, uh…" You cleared your throat and tried again. "They said they had no intentions of attacking Heaven, and I think their words were genuine."

"Hello, this is Satan we're talking about," Gabriel said, exaggerating their diction as if you were mentally impaired.

"My sibling does not lie, Gabriel," Michael reminded him. The other Archangel sighed. "If you will excuse us, the Council needs to consider Lucifer's offer."

Taking the hint, you bowed and promptly left the room to find refuge in the closest chapel. Once there, you dropped to your knees for the Almighty and clasped your trembling hands so tight your knuckles turned white.

"Forgive me Father for I have sinned…"

You started repenting because you couldn't help but feel as if it would be your fault if Heaven ended up needing to make a deal with the Devil. You should have resisted and told Lucifer that they deserved their banishment from the Silver City and that never would they be welcome here again. You should have fought them if needed, though you would have been doomed –you would have died a martyr, and maybe for once your name would have mattered in Heaven. But you hadn't.

Deep down, you also prayed for the Council to give up on the Cup of Eternal Grace. Hell was a terrible place, and Lucifer a dangerous monster, your sworn enemy. You didn't want to go back to Hell. Not for a stupid goblet.

But as soon as you came out of the chapel, Gabriel was standing in front of you, his hands behind his back. As God's messenger, you knew he was here to pass on the Divine Council's decision.

"So. We have deliberated and we want you to carry on with the mission. You will go down to Hell every day, do whatever you need to do, and come back up every evening to report before compline until you find the Cup. Okay?"

You opened your mouth to answer but only managed a weak, strangled sound. Gabriel didn't give you enough time to speak anyway.

"Great!" he exclaimed as he slapped your shoulder. Then he pointed at the chapel. "Is this free?" Again, you tried to answer, but he was already gone.

Feeling an irrational anger rising inside, you decided you needed a break, some time alone spent in silence, not even in prayer. Angels, like other immortal beings, didn't need to sleep, but you wanted to forget about the world for a while. So you flew back to the Dominions' quarters to lay on your soft bed.

And there was evening, and there was morning –the first day.

[z-moves]

Hello,

I hope this message finds you all in good health and spirits. I’m reaching out to ask for your help with a matter close to my heart involving my family who is suffering due to the current situation in Gaza. 💔😢

I have shared a post detailing my family’s story, including some photos and a link to my campaign . 🎗️ The goal of the campaign is to raise funds to support my family and help them through these difficult times.

I kindly ask you to repost this message on your accounts so it can reach as many people as possible and assist my family during this critical period. 🗣️📢

Your support and cooperation mean a lot to us, and we hope you can help spread this message so we can reach more people who might be able to offer support. 🙏💖

Can you reblog my pinned post from my account?🍉💖

Thank you very much for your time and consideration. May you all be blessed. 🌻

https://gofund.me/f575df23

hello, Maryam! i hope your child, Janna, will be able to escape danger and undergo treatment. i will share this so that others will also see it.

$3,611 USD / $15K

this fundraiser is low on funds!

Maryam's pinned post has more info. [ link to post ]

this fundraiser is #115 on @/gazavetters's list of vetted fundraisers. [ link to Google Sheets ]

tags for reach (please let me know if you don't want to get tagged):

@heritageposts @nabulsi @appsa @feluka @timetravellingkitty @rhubarbspring @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @aristotels @komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @ot3 @amygdalae @ankle-beez @dykesbat @watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq

[typicalopposite]

we almost had it all

rated T | Trigger warnings: mpreg, blood, miscarriage

part one | read on ao3

Buck stirs; and the movement, coupled with a pained groan, is enough to wake Tommy out of the already restless sleep he was barely managing. He straightens himself in his hospital chair and waits for Buck to fully become conscious. “Hey,” he says softly when those gorgeous baby blues finally flutter open. Buck blinks a few times, taking in his surroundings, and tries to move; a deep, guttural noise escapes him immediately and he screws his eyes shut. “Easy there,” Tommy laughs, leaning forward to rest a hand on his shoulder, to ease him back down on the mattress. “You— you’re pretty banged up, Buck. Don’t move.” 

“Mmm…” he hums in response, shaking his head back and forth. “‘Vn… ‘vn!!” He furrows his brow and looks at Tommy, eyes sad and pleading; clears his throat and says… very intently. “Evan.”

Tommy stares at him, and feels his lips twitch, curling up ever so slightly, and he nods. “Okay, okay… Evan.”

As bright as the sun when it’s at its peak in the sky, with not a single cloud to hide its rays, Evan smiles. 

For now— at least for just a moment— it’s enough. Enough to take Tommy’s mind off the cramps the doctor in the ER said would probably last for a few more days. Enough for Tommy to appreciate what is here in front of him; what he can see and touch, that has a heartbeat and life… and not dwell on what has been lost. Enough to pretend— for just this blessed little moment— everything is going to be okay. 

*

Tommy explains the details of the accident to Evan. He tells him how the semi had run the light, and the side of the engine he was sitting on took the most impact. He tells him how the call came in and how he was prepared to fight someone if they didn’t let him fly to the scene. “My hero,” Evan laughs.

“Hardly,” Tommy rebuts, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I didn’t do much…” He didn’t do enough. He didn’t do the most important thing he was supposed to do. He didn’t keep their child safe. “B- But you’re safe… I’m so happy you’re okay…” 

At some point Tommy’s hand ends up in Evan’s. He holds it gingerly, like it’s a precious fragile thing he can break— he has broken enough of Evan already. He runs his calloused thumbs over the knuckles, and after a few moments teetering on the uncertainty of whether this is acceptable or not Evan finally splays out his fingers and intertwines them with Tommy’s. With that… Tommy carefully brings the hand up and kisses it— Evan uses the hold to pull Tommy forward into an actual kiss. 

He sighs against Tommy’s lips, and lingers there so long Tommy thinks he might have nodded off again until he finally hums like he’s content and Tommy pulls back to look into his eyes. “I’m so sorry, baby…” he says. 

“It’s okay…” Evan replies, and it’s really not… Tommy knows it’s not… nothing is okay. Not with the breakup, or Tommy running— Evan doesn’t even know the full extent of how not okay things are; would he be so forgiving if he did? He considers protesting, but Evan’s forehead is pressing against his and he seems so content with just being— Tommy can do that too, at least for the moment.

*

The moment proves to be short lived, and Bobby catches Tommy out in the lobby while Maddie is in with Buck, making her own fuss over him. “I talked to Lucy,” he says, eyes soft… and all too knowing. Tommy feels his throat tighten; he can’t even squeeze out a lame attempt at bitchiness towards her for blabbing his business. Somehow Bobby’s expression softens even more, as he reaches out and lays a hand gently on Tommy’s shoulder. “I am so terribly sorry, Tommy… If there is anything I can do— If there is anything you need… my door is always open, okay?” 

For a second Tommy feels that connection he’d felt way back when he was still at the 118. That strange powerful pull towards the new captain— something that was almost akin to how he suspected he should feel around his own father— that he never quite got the full experience of before his transfer. Tommy blinks at him, the lump in his throat too big, too wedged in tight to speak around, and he nods. 

“So is- is everything— are- are you…” Bobby sighs at himself, not seeming to know what to say. “How are you, considering…” 

Tommy shifts on his feet, and tries desperately to find his voice so he can lie his way out of trauma-dumping the past day and a half onto his former captain. 

He doesn’t want to talk about the miscarriage… He doesn’t want to talk about how, after the staff came out and learned what was happening, they rushed him inside, got him in a room— how they told him to try his best to relax; that his body should do the work… but if it didn’t they would have to intervene. 

Eight hours later… they had to intervene. 

He doesn’t want to talk about how he spent the entirety he was cohesive enough to think clearly… thinking about how Evan might be dying just a floor above while they scraped their child out of him. 

He doesn’t want to talk about how he felt so numb when they released him— how he winded up in the ICU asking for Evan Buckley, instead of going home. He doesn’t want to talk about how he took advantage of Evan's unconscious state to take in every aspect of his being: every dimple in his skin, every mole and freckle, every perfection and the imperfections, too. He is so beautiful and their child would have been so beautiful too. 

He doesn’t want to talk about it, or think about it… but he tells Bobby everything, anyway. He doesn’t even know why. He just starts talking and he can’t stop, and eventually he is talking and crying… and Bobby is just standing there listening; he lets Tommy have the floor, until he has said his piece. 

Then, without a word, he pulls him into a hug. 

And Tommy cries harder. 

He apologizes profusely, because he didn’t mean to cry all over Bobby, just like he hadn’t meant to cry all over Lucy— and like Lucy, Bobby assures him it is absolutely no problem. 

“Please don’t tell him…” Tommy finally manages to get out. 

“I didn’t plan on it,” Bobby says softly, rubbing a hand over Tommy’s back as his sobs, turn to cries, turn to just some shaky breath and sniffling. “But…” he continues once Tommy is calm. “I do believe you should. I think it would help with your grieving process. And I know that Buck would want to be a part of that with you.” 

Tommy feels his face crumpling again. “I know that, I just—” Tommy looks back towards the room. “I just got him back. I can’t— I can’t lose him again…” 

“You think you’ll lose him?”

“I lost his child…”

That’s enough for Bobby to pull back and give him a stern— but sympathetic— look. “That was not your fault, Tommy.” He stares at Tommy; Tommy knows he looks doubtful. He sighs. “Buck would never blame you for this loss… he’d more likely blame himself for causing it.” Tommy’s eyes go wide and he’s about to protest, but Bobby stops him. “That’s just Buck, he will find a way to shoulder the blame no matter what… but he would blame himself so much more if he knows you went through this pain alone. So I definitely think you should tell him.” 

*

Tommy waits until the visitors die down. 

He slips into the room after Eddie and Chris have left and gently pushes it closed behind him. It must be written all over his face because Evan immediately asks him if he’s okay. “No,” Tommy says, quietly, dreading this conversation already. 

“W- What wrong…” 

Tommy crosses the room and drops down into his chair, taking Evan’s hand between both of his. He licks his lips, but his throat is so dry it doesn’t help much. Words are nonexistent, his nerves are frayed. “I- I, uhm…” Evan is looking more panicked by the second and Tommy is starting to regret choosing this while he was still in the hospital, recovering. The bulky feeling of the massive pad the hospital provided reminds him he is also recovering and Bobby’s voice is in his ear encouraging him to go on. He laces their fingers together, and the first tear falls as he realizes— “I was going to tell you today anyway…” 

His voice is so small, he is surprised Evan hears him, but he does. “Tell me what?”

“That- That I was… pregnant.” 

It takes a couple seconds for Evan to register what he said. “You- You… what?” Another beat and he realizes the tense. “Wait… was?” Tommy swipes away at the tears, and nods. “You- You had a—” He quickly nods again before he has to hear Evan say it out loud. Now tears are filling Evan’s eyes, and he shifts himself towards Tommy. “W- was it because of— of…” 

“I guess the stress… and I- I probably should have never been the one to fly to the scene… I’m- I’m so sorry, Evan.”

“Wha— No… Tommy, no, it’s- it’s not your fault.” Evan squeezes Tommy’s hand, pulling him closer so he can reach up and caress Tommy’s cheek, running his thumb under Tommy's eye to catch the tears. “You should have never been put in that situation… I’m sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to apologize for either…” Tommy says, reaching up to hold onto Evan’s wrists; his lips tremble despite his best efforts to control it and his breathing is so shaky.

Evan nods. He moves over on the bed as far as he can and releases Tommy’s face to lower his guard rail. “Come here,” he says, holding his arms out to Tommy. 

“I’m not getting in your bed, Evan…” Tommy says, forcing a laugh. 

“I want to— I n- need to hold you,” Evan says, softly. “Please come here…” 

Tommy doesn’t fight that— honestly he’d love nothing more than to be held by Evan. He carefully climbs onto the bed, avoiding wires and Evan’s injuries, and eases himself up against Evan’s side. He feels the most at ease in Evan’s arms, that he has since- since the break up really… He lets his head fall to Evan’s chest and exhales; with it comes a sob, then another, and another. Evan’s body is trembling too, and he feels a tear fall from above him and land on his forehead. 

He carefully wraps an arm around Evan’s body, holding him close as they grieve what they’ve lost. 

They cry until they can’t cry anymore, and then they just lie there in silence, until Tommy thinks maybe Evan has fallen asleep. “I missed you so much,” Evan says, disproving the thought. His face is buried in Tommy’s curls and he presses a kiss against them. “I don’t want to miss you anymore…”

Tommy gently shifts so he can look up at Evan. “Me neither,” he says, and pushes up enough to capture Evan’s lips. He brings a hand up to hold Evan’s face while he kisses him, and he knows there is so much more to say— so much more to be sorry about, and work through. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. 

He hates that this is what brought them back together. He hates that they might come out of this stronger than before, but at such a great cost. He hates that they will never meet their child… 

But he has been given a second chance at a future with Evan… and with that, maybe, he can hope for a second chance at a family with Evan as well.

[aliciavance4228]

Now that the musical is officially complete, what are your thoughts on Epic? I’m curious to see your analysis.

I didn't prepare any essay, therefore I will try to verbalize my thoughts and organize them in the best way possible.

Epic's Odysseus is completely different compared to Homer's Odysseus. Jorge explained in one of his videos that throughout his journey Odysseus has to learn that ruthlessness is necessary if he wants to see his wife and son again. Odysseus from the Iliad and Odyssey never really puts himself morality questions or has an inner conflict with himself. He commited war crimes, enslaved people (and consequently killed them), murdered a baby he wasn't even forced to kill in the first place etc. Eventually you could say that the ten years journey "humbled" him and made him a better person, and even this idea is headscratching.

There are two aspects from the entire Album which dissapointed me and I would gladly change them:

a) The moment when he tells Circe that he cannot sleep with her because he loves his wife too much, and she's like "Okay, then let me help you!" Circe was the daughter of Helios and a powerful goddess, not just some ordinary chick he could've avoided whenever he wanted to. The moment he arrives on her island he finds himself in a position of inferiority, and is treated in a similar way a woman or a slave from where he comes would be treated. He cannot simply refuse her nor do anything against her without consequences, and yet the album failed to show the power imbalance between them two and made it look as if Odysseus from the original ancient poems could've simply said no and that's it. The subject becomes way more complicated when you think about male victims, and how rape or SA towards them still isn't taken seriously.

2) The moment he fought with Poseidon. A mortal cannot physically fight with a god and win unless they receive divine intervention. Diomedes was helped by Athena when he fought Ares. Perseus received Hera's blessing when he fought Dionysus. The only guy who managed to effortlessly wrestle a god was Heracles, because dude was basically steroids on legs. Not to mention that physical strenght wasn't Odysseus' most helpful, distinctive trait, but his intelligence, cunning and ability to lie. It would've been way more realistic if he would've outsmarted Poseidon, whereas Athena and Hermes would've helped him escape and go back to Ithaca.

There are also other small details, such the fact that they chose the roman version of Scylla's background story, or that they depicted sirens with fish tails instead of bird wings.

Overall I enjoyed the entire musical. I know that adapting an entire epic poem into an album isn't easy and I appreciate the fact that Jorge talked about the differences between EPIC and the Odyssey, as well as explaining why he decided to make them and pointing out that his album shouldn't be used as a source of information at school. There are the small details though that could've made it a compelling adaptation rather than just a good one. 7.5/10.

[ifearzombies]

The Little ‘I Love Yous’ Part 2

Simeon:

- He gives you little blessings without thinking. Your tea is the perfect temperature. You find the perfect chair to sit in when your feet are tired. Little things to make you smile and you wonder why you’re so blessed; only to remember you are loved by an angel. - He wrote a little short story about your adventures in the Devildom. It’s a children’s book series about a little sheep living with seven black rams and how the sheep helped the seven angry rams be better brothers. There’s little side adventures of the sheep meeting with some doves. You have the signed first edition from ‘Christopher Peugeot’. Levi is still trying to figure out how you got it. - He noticed when you visit PH you have a favorite seat. He’s made a little pillow with your name on it and put it there showing it’s reserved for you.

Solomon:

- He hears about magic spells you’ve seen in games or movies and finds a way to make that a spell you can actually learn. Or tries to. He’s only succeeded on one spell, but the little token he gave you that lets you cast ‘featherfall’ lets you give into a few of your more risky intrusive thoughts. Or it lets you escape the brothers’ arguing if you’re not on the first floor and a window is nearby. - He explained that humans require sunlight to Diavolo so that every other weekend you two can go to the human world and enjoy the sunshine and visit your family up there. - You’re the first to see a new spell or potion or rune he makes. Normally it’d be several of the demons he’s pacted with- but since you’re learning magic too he makes a point to show you the spectacle once it’s perfected.

Barbatos:

- He’s requested a day off of work with Diavolo to spend the day with you. It’s a rare occurrence, and you can’t help but be touched he’d leave Diavolo’s side to be with yours for even a minute let alone a day. - Your favorite meals are on the menu when you and the brothers visit for dinner. And there’s an extra little heart shaped chocolate on your plate that Barbatos will tell everyone he doesn’t know how it got there as he winks at you. - Sometimes you find random notes in your things at RAD. They’re all in the most exquisite calligraphy you’ve ever seen and it’s detailing something nice about you today. Your outfit, the way you did your hair, a kind act he saw. You know who puts these in your things and you treasure each one.

Diavolo-

- He tries every hobby you try with you so that you’re not alone. Plus it teaches him about the human world and how to have the Devildom be more welcoming for when his dream hopefully comes true. - He asks you a lot about the human world and what you like and dislike about it. it. He assures you it���s for his passion project, but when you mention things you like about the human world they somehow end up part of the Devildom (though you are not about to object now that the Devildom has started selling Kinder Eggs) - Kabedons you when only Barbatos is there. And when you blush he playfully asks if he did it right this time. You tell him no just so he’ll do it again later and he knows you’re lying.

----------------------------------------------------------

MC:

- You help Simeon use his computer any time he needs to use it and is too scared he’ll break it. Lots of things are harder to find without use of the internet and he needs to be able to do research for writing and you’re always willing to help. He does credit you with a pen name, but you tell him he doesn’t have to.

- You try Solomon’s cooking. The RARE occasions Luke and Simeon can’t stop him from using the kitchen he always tries to make something for you and you always try it. Even when you’re honest and tell him it’s bad after, he still tries to make things for you and you try it because he smiles wide just because you were willing to try it.

- You occasionally spend a day helping Barbatos with his duties. The first time you decided to do it you went in not knowing how much the butler does but now you wonder how he ever manages to make it one day without falling asleep before noon. The days you offer to help him are his favorite days and you can tell by the smile on his face when you show up in a butler/maid uniform to help.

- Being the heir to the throne is not easy. And for as busy as Lucifer and Barbatos are, you realize Diavolo works the hardest. You ask for a day or two here or there to spend the night with him- not even just for sex. No. You hold him and run a hand through his hair and tell him that it’s OK to rest. You give him a massage and let him rest. There’s been times he’s cried that you never speak of. Times he tells you he worries that his dream will fall apart if Michael and the other angels don’t support this. That you and Solomon and Simeon and Luke will be taken from him if he fails. You tell him it’ll be OK. That you’ll find a way back to him and the others if that happens. You won’t let anyone take him and the others away from you because you love him and the others.

[rosypenguins]

❤️Bridges (Pt. 1)🖤

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Synopsis: Drew spends most of his time suspended ignoring phone calls and withering away on the floor, until a certain someone decides to show up at his doorstep in hopes of changing that.

A/N: It has been a hot minute since I’ve posted a Drew fic, so for anyone who’s kinda forgotten the timeline: Drew and Jake got into a fight resulting in the both of them being suspended. Drew keeps ignoring Liam anytime he tries to help and is only spiraling further. And fun fact! This is arguably the softer of the two fics! (I hope I portrayed Drew’s worries properly.)

Contains Swearing, Arguments.

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Unsurprisingly, Drew received a two-week suspension from school for his fight with Jake. Which honestly seemed more like a blessing than anything. He wouldn’t have to deal with anyone for a full week. He could finally just… do nothing.

Countless messages remained unanswered. Nights passed without an ounce of sleep. And it felt…

Well, he wanted to say nice, but it was hard to feel anything anymore. Anything positive, at least. All he felt was exhaustion.

He found himself on the floor one quiet evening, once again ignoring Liam’s messages as he watched a video someone had taken of his fight with Jake. He didn’t know who had posted it, nor did he bother to check how long it’d been up for. But, he found himself drawn to it, watching it over and over again, focusing on the same part every time: the moment he’d snapped.

His own voice rang through the phone, sounding almost scratchy due to the poor audio quality. But that wasn’t something he found himself paying much attention to.

Instead, his eyes were drawn to Jake, soaking in every detail of the blonde’s expression. The subtle twitch of his brow, the slight tremble of his bottom lip, the faint red hue tainting his eyes as they began to grow watery.

It didn’t make sense… Why did he look so hurt?

He deserved this… he deserved to hurt. He deserved to feel this betrayal… to feel even a fraction of Drew’s pain.

Yet Drew could feel knives digging deep into his chest, piercing his heart, his lungs. It was hard to breathe. It was hard to want to stay alive…

And every time he rewound the video, the knives twisted further. Yet some sick part of him wanted to keep watching… to keep enduring the pain…

He deserves this… He deserves this… Stop feeling guilty…

It’s not your fault.

Suddenly, Drew’s phone began to ring, and the sound startled him so badly he nearly dropped it on his face.

He took a breath to compose himself, before glancing up at his phone screen to find Liam’s contact photo staring back at him.

With another breath, Drew hit declined. He wasn’t sure how many times Liam had tried to reach out to him, yet Drew made sure he never got through.

You think he would’ve figured out I don’t want to talk to him right now. Drew thought, almost instinctively declining Liam’s second call.

But in typical Liam fashion, he called a third time, and a fourth time. And in typical Drew fashion, he declined every one, before eventually deciding to power off his phone all together, tossing it to the side and likely adding to the collection of cracks taking up his phone screen.

He let out a sigh, glancing up towards the sunroof to see a silver half-moon hanging high in the sky, partially obscured by dark grey clouds.

And as he watched them drift through the sky, he began to think back to the start of Junior Year. How different he was back then.

How he was once a person who couldn’t stand the idea of being alone, terrified of the silence that came with it. How he used to do everything in his power to escape it, chasing distraction after distraction like the pathetic coward he was.

And how a distraction was what ended up hurting him the most in the end…

…Maybe that’s why he stopped running from the silence. Because it was the only thing that could never hurt him.

It was constant. It would never leave him, no matter how much he ran. At first, he thought it was a curse. But maybe it was more of a blessing. In one form or another, it always came back…

And it’s not like I could ever hurt it either…

Drew shoved the thought to the back of his mind. Damn Jake. Why’d I let him put that stupid idea in my head?

Drew rolled onto his side, wondering if he should get off the floor now. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he’d been down there. Probably too long.

But something didn’t exactly feel right about sitting in bed right now either. It felt more… fitting, to stay here. On the cold, hard ground.

Drew nearly jumped when he heard the doorbell ring. What the hell?! Who’d be at the door this time of night?!

The doorbell rang again, and again, over and over, so many times, and Drew didn’t even need to get up to figure out who was at his door.

“Christ, I’m gonna kill myself.” He mumbled to himself, dragging himself off the floor. He made his way downstairs, pulling the door open to reveal none other than Liam himself. Figures.

“Hey-” Liam’s usual greeting was interrupted the moment Drew came into view, and his eyes briefly glanced him over. “Damn. How come you always look like shit when I come over?” Drew rolled his eyes, biting back a groan. Thanks for the reminder, idiot.

“I wasn’t exactly expecting you.” He remarked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Have you even been outside? Like, at all?” Liam asked, completely ignoring Drew’s prior question.

“Why the fuck would I go outside?” He grumbled, dragging a hand down his face.

“Because it’s healthy? Or something like that?”

“Yeah, I think I’m good.”

“Well, what have you been doing?” Liam questioned, and Drew couldn’t think of an honest answer that didn’t sound insane.

“Liam, I’m really not in the mood for this today. Leave me alone.”

“You’re really just gonna send me away? After I drove all this way for you?”

“You drove 10 minutes-”

“15, actually.” Liam corrected, and Drew rolled his eyes again. He was about to reach for the doorknob and close the door, but before he could, Liam grabbed his wrist.

“Drew, please.” The shorter man blinked, surprised by the sudden desperation in Liam’s voice. Liam seemed a little taken aback himself, and he was quick to mask it with a soft chuckle. “Seriously, I…” He paused for a moment, as if unsure what to do. “It’s not healthy to stay in your room all day and not talk to anyone. It’s- it’s gonna drive you insane.”

Why do you care? Drew wanted to ask. The words were on the tip of his tongue, yet his lips remained sealed.

He could feel Liam’s thumb rub his wrist gently, and his deep crimson eyes looked up to meet Drew’s.

“How ‘bout we go on a walk?” He suggested, his voice regaining its usual cheerful tone.

“Really?” Liam nodded. “Do I get a choice?”

“Not at all! You go back inside, I’ll just throw rocks at your window, all Romeo and Juliet style.”

“Oh, God, please don’t.” Drew groaned, and Liam slid a little closer.

“I’ll even recite some love poems too. I’ll be on my knees crying ‘Oh Romeo! Where thou art Romeo?!’ And make it look super gay.” Drew pulled his hand away.

“Fucking gross.”

“Then put your shoes on! And- maybe grab a jacket, too. It’s pretty cold.”

“Fine. Give me like, 5 minutes.” Liam smiled, and settled himself down on the front step.

“Alright, Romeo!”

“Fucking kill yourself.” Drew mumbled, closing the door behind him before letting out a low sigh. Why does he always pull shit like this? He wondered, throwing on the pair of shoe he’d left by the door.

And why do I always go along with it?

Making his way over to the couch, Drew grabbed a jacket he’d left lying on the back, throwing it on and checking the pockets to find his keys still inside.

…Liam doesn’t care. He’s lying, remember? It’s all a lie…

…

Before Drew knew it, he was out the door again.

Liam was in the same position Drew had left him in, and he glanced up when he’d heard the door creak.

“That was fast.” The taller man commented. “Sure you got everything?”

“Yeah.” Drew replied, and Liam stood up.

“Awesome. Let’s go, then.” He said, motioning with his head for Drew to follow him.

“Where are we going?” He asked once they’d reached the sidewalk. Liam shrugged.

“Dunno. Wherever, I guess?” What did I expect?

Drew didn’t respond, instead following Liam down the street in relative silence.

And despite the time, the surroundings weren’t all that dark. Street lamps lined the sidewalks, providing a gentle glow for the two to follow. The half-moon shined brightly overhead, with only a few clouds dotting the sky.

The breeze was cool and gentle, and it felt nice against Drew’s cheek. Everything was quiet. Peaceful, almost.

But Drew couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.

Why is Liam doing this? After everything, he still won’t tell me what he wants. Does he… genuinely just want to help me?

…That’s what Jake had said, too. But Jake lied…

And Liam has Henry, so… why does he want me? If not to use me, too?

Drew shoved his hands in his pockets, his gaze drifting down to the sidewalk. And he suddenly realize Liam had yet to ask him about-

“So… how's it been, being suspended and all?” There it is. Drew shrugged.

“Fine, I guess? It’s been a nice break from everything.” Liam nodded.

“Have your parents found out yet?”

“If they have, they haven’t said anything.” He mumbled. “And even if they're mad, what are they gonna do? They’re out of town for another week.”

“Lucky.” Drew glanced up at him.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I mean, having your parents out of town all the time and being able to get away with whatever you want.” Drew bit the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah.”

“If I had that kind of power, I’d-” Liam paused. “Probably get arrested, honestly.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot.” Drew commented, and Liam elbowed him in his side.

“Ass.” Drew’s lips twitched slightly, a soft hint of a smile appearing on his face.

He’s lying. He doesn’t care about you.

A familiar frown tugged at Drew’s lips, and the two fell silent once more.

“…You picked a pretty good week to get suspended.” Liam said after a while. “Pretty much nothing’s been happening at school. Just a bunch of review and shit.” Drew nodded.

“It’s like, the opposite of the whole ‘only cool stuff happens when you’re absent’ thing. You know?” Liam added, and Drew shrugged.

“Maybe because I’m suspended, not absent.”

“Heh, true.”

He doesn’t care about you.

Liam’s pace slowed they passed beneath another street lamp, and he took a deep breath before coming to a halt.

“Okay, I can’t keep ignoring this.” He mumbled, and glanced over his shoulder to look back at Drew. “Can we please talk about it now?”

“…Talk about what?”

“You know what! The reason you were even suspended in the first place?” Drew blinked, before letting out a groan.

“That’s none of your business, Liam.” He stated, brushing past him and leaving him alone in the light.

“It absolutely is my business.” Liam claimed as he followed him. “You’re my friend, and Jake- well…” He thought for a moment. “Whatever. Point is, I saw the video, and I want to know what happened. What- what led up to that?” Drew thought a moment before he spoke.

“That freak thought he could try to use me again.” He answered. “He got what he deserved.”

“…Are you serious?” Drew turned to face him. “You can’t actually think that. I mean, you got way too personal towards the end there. Hell, half the shit you said even Henry and I didn’t know about. And now the whole school’s-

“Oh, so he’s allowed to break my trust, but I can’t break his?!” Drew snapped, taking note of the way Liam flinched. “He hurt all of us with his lies! And now, he’s paying the price for that.”

“I… guess. But still, it’s just- I don’t know.”

Liam slowed when the two came across a bridge, and he glanced down at the still waters below. He paused for a moment, before resting his arms along the railing.

“Don’t tell me you still care about him?” Drew ventured, leaning against the railing beside him.

“I don’t know, honestly. Henry keeps telling me how he thinks there’s more Jake isn’t telling us. Maybe there’s a chance he still-”

“Of course Henry’s still trying to be optimistic about this whole thing.” Drew mumbled. “Jake chose his side, he’s-”

“What is it with you and sides, Drew?” Drew stiffened at the question. “Seriously. You’re always talking about them, and you’re always acting like someone can’t have-”

“Would you want to be someone’s second pick?” He asked, and Liam thought for a moment.

“Better than third, right?”

“I’m being serious, Liam. If you're not first, you’re not important. You’re… replaceable.”

He’s gonna use this against you…

“You’ll never mean as much to them as someone else does. And then all you can do is watch as they chase after that person, that somehow did everything better than you ever could.”

Shut up. Shut up.

Drew’s nails dug into the fabric of his sleeves, only to feel Liam’s hand rest against his shoulder.

“Did… you ever try talking about this with Jake?” He asked, and Drew could feel his shoulders tense.

“I- what?! Liam, this has nothing to do with Jake-!”

“Oh, come on. This has everything to do with Jake! It’s obvious you miss him, too!”

Drew fell silent, and that ever-familiar flame began to flicker in his chest. Quickly, he smacked Liam’s hand away.

“Don’t assume shit about me!” He suddenly shouted, turning to face him. “I hate how you do that!”

“Then what am I supposed to do?!” Liam yelled back, which caught Drew off guard. “You don’t tell me anything, and you don’t ask me for anything so I’m left playing this stupid guessing game trying to figure out what you need! If you don’t want me to assume, Drew, just talk to me! Tell me what’s going on, or just- tell me what I can do to help! I want to help you!”

Liar. Liar. Liar. The smoke in his mind was growing heavy.

“I don’t want your help! I don’t want to talk to you about this! I’m fine!”

“For Luni’s sake, Drew! What are you so afraid of?!” He yelled. And Drew could feel his breath catch in his throat.

…What am I so afraid of..?

Drew took in a slow, shaky breath, his eyes finally meeting Liam’s.

“You know what I need, Liam? I need you, to take a fucking hint for once in your life and leave me the hell alone!”

Liam took a step back, but Drew moved closer,

“You think I like having my phone blown up 24/7?! You think I like it when you break into my house in the middle of the night and force me to go along with all your stupid ideas?! You keeping saying you want to help me, but all you do is drive me up a fucking wall!”

Crimson eyes glistened. Coffee eyes burned.

“All you fucking do is lie to me! You think I’m stupid or something?! You think I don’t see through your bullshit?! You already lied to me about Zoey, you lied about having my back and I wouldn’t be surprised if you lied about Jake this whole time, too! Because everyone fucking lies to me, and I know you’re no different. I know you’re nothing but a conniving little bitch who’s gonna leave me the second you get what you want, just like everyone else!!”

…Drew could feel his throat tighten, his eyes stinging from… something.

“So, if you want to something ‘helpful’ for once in your pathetic little life, you’ll stop pretending like you care about me, and you’ll finally leave me the fuck alone!!”

…Drew could barely breathe. His chest was heaving from how loudly he was yelling. Half the neighborhood must’ve been woken up from it. But Liam didn’t say anything, and his gaze dropped to his feet.

“Oh…” He whispered after a while, only to choke out a laugh. “I see, so… everything I ever did to try and help you… that meant nothing to you?”

Drew could feel the corners of his lips curve into a twisted smile. His eyes darkening as he took another step closer.

“It’s about time you got the hint!”

“Wow! Okay. Nice to know that-” He paused, and Drew finally caught glimpse of the tears forming in his eyes. “Nice to know that I’m nothing more than a ‘conniving bitch’ to you.”

And it felt as if a knife had pierced through his stomach, cutting through the flames and causing his heart to miss a beat.

“Liam-?”

“Sorry for trying to help you too much!” The taller shouted, before storming off in the opposite direction.

“Where do you think you’re going?!” Drew called, but Liam didn’t look back.

“I’m leaving!”

“And you’re just gonna leave your mom’s car in my driveway?!”

Liam stopped, before letting out a low sigh.

“Fuck.” He whispered, before turning back around.

“Don’t try to follow me.” He murmured as he passed Drew by, and the shorter scoffed.

“You’ve got to be insane if you think I’d want to see you at all after this! Just get the hell out of here, and stay the hell out of my life!”

And Liam didn’t respond.

[slyvester101]

Fuck it, I’m posting the first part while I finish the rest take it

Here’s God!Tucker au: Part 1

+++

Wash found Tucker by accident.

He had been traveling, trying to get back to Armonia in time for the peace talks, but he’d gotten sidetracked helping out a town with some trouble makers and then was delayed when the bridge that marked the border crossing into Chorus broke down, forcing him to go all the way around.

And then the storm rolled in.

By the time he found shelter in an abandoned temple, he was soaked to his bones, armor completely ruined by the wet that seeped into them. He guided his trusty steed in, mumbling a quick prayer of thanks for the shelter and please don’t strike me down for bringing my horse in here. I really don’t want to leave her outside in the rain.

Wash gasps when he enters, gazing in awe as he looks at the scenery around him.

The temple is large and open, beautiful columns of stone lining the whole room. Even with the flora that has seeped in, vines winding around pillars and across the ceiling, flowers blooming from their bushes, branches of a large unkempt tree escaping into the ceiling, it all has an air of elegance that has Wash holding his breath, like it’d be disrespectful to let the air from his lungs taint the marble and stone.

But the most glorious thing about this place, the thing that has Wash making his way deeper into the temple, is the giant sculpted statue on the back wall. It almost reaches the ceiling, the figure depicted kneeling as he reaches out with his hands cupped. Rain water fills it now, but Wash sees the glisten of gold coins as an offering sunken at the bottom.

The figure is surrounded by decaying gifts, bouquets that have long since eroded, food that is barely identifiable, and trinkets made of the finest metal and gems rusted and broken after years of neglect.

Wash thinks he understands why this god was so well-loved. His face is soft and kind, the curl of his lip happy and maybe a little mischievous, long locs fall over his shoulder and down his back, gold making up the beads of his lovingly carved hair. He looks like a dream, a figure Wash would’ve been more than happy to worship just to look at him.

He steps in front of the statue, carefully observing every detail. On the back wall, right above the figure, a single line of carved text reads:

Long live the god of giving

God of giving, huh?

Something rises in his gut when he realizes the name of this god has been left out, not a trace of it written anywhere on the walls or on the trinkets left behind.

It dawns rather suddenly on him as he tries to name the feeling, something oddly familiar about the situation of a god so beloved also being so quickly forgotten.

This wasn’t a god the people worshiped, this was a god the people used.

The decaying gifts ring hollow under Wash’s revelation, the statue, while still beautiful, humming with a new sense of entrapment and sadness. By the state of the temple, it seems like this god ran out of things to give, abused and rung out for all he was worth until he stopped being useful.

Wash has seen it before, watched people beg for favors, for miracles, for the impossible, only to ditch their god the minute they receive their blessing, never even giving thanks, only ever coming back to ask for something else. He’s seen temples be built, be full and then be torn down and left for ruin in a matter of months.

He usually doesn’t care, doesn’t pay enough mind to all the new gods coming and going. He really only prays and worships out of habit, a polite set of manners that have been engraved into his soul (and he doesn’t have a death wish. There are certain gods willing to kill if you disrespect their temple or their people).

But there’s something about this statue, about this god of giving, that makes Wash wonder if maybe he’s a spiritual man after all.

“I would’ve never stopped worshiping you.” He whispers to himself, slowly getting on his knees and reaching up to cradle the underside of the statue's hand.

“I would’ve given you everything. Lose myself by offering you all I am. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re gone because…

Because I think I would’ve given you all my love.”

“Is that a promise?”

Wash turns to face the voice, his sword already unsheathed and ready to cut down the intruder—

Oh. Oh shit.

“You— You’re—“

“Lavernius Tucker, god of giving. Pleasure to meet you.” The man smiles brightly, the same warm and mischievous one depicted on his statue.

Wash eyes widen as he snaps to look back and forth from the man and the statue and—

Holy shit.

He’s… smaller than Wash was imagining, not the same plump and soft figured man they carved into the stone. He’s got more angles to him, lean and thin without much mass covering his body. There’s a tired droop in his shoulders, eyes weary and slanted. Wash thinks he’s leaning on a pillar more for support than for seduction.

“Are you alright?” Wash snaps out of his daze, shaking off the shock as his blood bred need to help takes over. He steps towards him, dropping his sword without a second thought in case the god keels over suddenly.

The man—Tucker—seems surprised at the question, standing a little taller as Wash comes forward with the same energy as a mother hen. He lets Wash crowd him, his hands gently skimming over his body for injuries.

“Uh, yeah. I’m okay. Just been a while since anyone has come here, especially someone as… sweetly devoted as you are.” He sways forward into Wash’s touch, his eyes fluttering as he soaks up the blessed affection.

Wash shuffles in his feet but doesn’t pull away. He’s never really met a god before, so he’s not sure what the proper reaction to a god showing favor is. It certainly doesn’t feel right since Wash just got here. “I— I haven’t

even worshiped you before.”

“Mmm, but I can practically taste it off you.” Tucker traces his hands over Wash’s chest until they hang gently on his shoulders, the touch sending shivers up Wash’s spine. “You may have stayed here to hide from the rain, but you didn’t need to say anything to me, didn’t need to pray or give thanks. But you did. You did and now I’m bound to you, my loyal little devotee.”

“Bound to me?”

He nods, giggling as he pushes himself closer to Wash to clasp his hands behind his neck. “You’re my only follower now, silly. You’re the one whose belief gives me power and with power…” He nudges his nose into Wash’s cheek and Wash can’t help but drop his head to meet him there, something deep in his bones singing as this gorgeous god seeks out his attention.

Tucker practically whimpers at him, resting their foreheads together as Wash moves to place his hands respectfully on his waist. He’s shaking, Wash notes, possibly from years left neglected and bound to this fragmented temple.

He breathes in deep and slow, savoring the feeling of being so carefully worshiped, something he’s never had in all his centuries of existence.

“With power,” He continues, “I can give you anything you want, just say the word.”

Right, god of giving. Probably thinks that Wash’s affections are an offering in turn for a wish or a miracle. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, but he doesn’t want to seem rude or ungrateful to this fragile looking god. He deserves to be worshiped, to be loved and respected, his name sung in glory by all those who follow him.

Wash makes his choice.

“What if I just want you?”

Tucker startles at that, shock evident on his face. Wash keeps his face serious, not a single bit of doubt or hesitation to be found. He wants this, wants him, whatever that means.

His god seems to drop at that, like a puppet without its strings. He practically glows when he smiles again, something so much more genuine and happy then the one he had before, the one that’s immortalized on his statue.

Wash thinks that this is the Tucker that they should've worshiped all those years ago. Tucker kisses his cheek, a submissive little thing that has Wash heating from his cheeks to his shoulders, and proudly proclaims to Wash—

“Then I’m yours.”

Part 2

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Evening Quiet

A Curtis x Honey Drabble.

1.5k What makes a house a home? The people.

Warnings- mention of sexual activity.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist

Yes you were glad to be home. 

Vacationing was always nice, getting away to see someplace new was always exciting. Florida proved to be just what was needed to battle the winter chill with its sandy beaches and endless amounts of sunshine that for you and Curtis seemed a blessing. 

After battling the freezing ice and snow of Duluth, Florida’s weather seemed like summertime to the two of you. 

There were nights of firepit and beers in the backyard, lazing around on a yacht that Frank was currently working on, some shopping to be had, and the food, you were greatly missing the taco truck right about now. 

But all that said, you were glad to be home. Right now home wasn’t your third-floor apartment in downtown Duluth. It was curled up on Curtis' couch, watching a television documentary about a haunted house in Pennsylvania where the ghost team started talking about the history associated with the residence. Outside, big heavy flakes slammed against the window like they were trying to escape the cold too, but the clear glass on the picture window was keeping you and Curtis safe. 

Wrapped around your legs was the afghan off the back of the couch, Curtis’s hand was resting on the curve of your waist, his fingertips lightly grazing the bit of skin peeping from your pajamas you had spent most of the day wearing and nearby the small wood stove he used for the first floor chill was popping once in a while as the wood provided them with sleep inducing warmth. 

Your head was laid down on his thigh, the very motion of his fingers and the warmth under the blanket making your eyes slip close once in a while in complete blissful calm. 

It was settling in the way that this felt like where you were supposed to be at the end of your day. You didn’t even realize that the simple motion of letting your eyes close and give in to that feeling would make your breathing grow heavier and you completely lost track of the show. 

Curtis noticed though, because that last bit of tension seeped from you and finally you let yourself sink into his lap. He could feel the warmth of your breath’s sink into the fabric of his black jeans while sleep seemed to sneak up on you. 

He couldn’t resist letting his fingers slip further down, without any intentions other than to rub at your hip, the soothing sensation making you stretch a bit in a moan at the comforting touch he provided. His gaze stayed on the tv for the most part, being interested in the findings and history of the old homestead that actually reminded him of his own home. 

He wondered where his house's ghosts were wandering around tonight. He had heard a few creaks earlier on the stairs, which might be from the cold snapping the house's old bones outside, but it was easier to let himself think it was Wilford and Lillian appreciating what he was doing with their loved home. 

It certainly has all come back to life since you came into the picture. His weekends no longer consisted of him all alone, but you were there with your endless amounts of sewing projects and script rewrites for your drama club, working on your next science-themed project for your classroom, the scattering of your books from the living room to the upstairs nightstand where you never seemed to bring them home to finish reading and he never mentioned it simply because he liked to read them too before going to sleep. His little Honey had some erotic reading tastes that he fully intended to use on you. 

Like the recent chapter, he read the other night while you were back at your apartment gave a very detailed description of using paints in foreplay. He chuckled softly to himself imagining the painting the two of you would make, hung up for no one to know. 

His amusement with his thoughts must have woken you, cause you stirred just a bit, shifting to roll to your back and look up at him, blinking sleepily at him for a moment. “What’s funny?” 

“Oh, just thinking about how good you would look covered in paint while I was having my way with you.” Curtis said matter of factly while watching the ending of the show with his eyes half shut like he was also starting to fall asleep. 

You blinked at him a moment while his gaze drifted almost lazily down to where you were laid on his lap, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes giving away his amusement at the way your face heated up. Your brows twisted for a moment in thought as you clearly recalled reading something very similar. “Did you read my book?” 

A grin cracked on his face with a suggestive arch of his brows that said he clearly did and you gasped when he swooped down to steal a kiss from you. “Honey, you want me to kiss and tell?” 

You gave a teasing little snort as you went cross eyed staring up at him. “They are for educational purposes.” 

Curtis straightened back to a sit, his fingers dancing along your neck and massaging into your hair at the base of your scalp, it felt so good that you let yourself get slightly distracted by it. “Oh I know you are getting quite the education from it. I can’t wait to reap the benefits.” 

You again felt your face heating up, knowing exactly what things he read in your books. All the kinky little smut fests that had supposed plot lines leading up to all of them. Your hands covered your face with a groan, peeking up between your fingers. “You weren’t supposed to learn my dirty secret.” 

Curtis clicked the tv off, his features turning thoughtful at your words. “Why is that, were they something you didn’t want me to see Honey?” 

“No, no, I don’t care. I’m just shocked you even took an interest in my pile.” You gave a little shrug while giving a yawn and cuddling in closer, enjoying the quiet of the wood crackling in the nearby stove and the snow gently hitting on the glass. “But…” You went a bit quiet, trying to sort through the masquerade of feelings it brought up in you that Curtis wasn’t making some snide remark about your ‘porn’. If anything, he seemed to enjoy it if he was mentally filing away scenes from it. Curtis as usual was patient, not rushing you to spit out what you were trying to say. “I like that you saw them and you’re okay with them?” 

Curtis already knew what was on your mind, you had questioned him a few times about things that he honestly never would have thought about. That your ex was such a controlling asshole to you that you still worried about him actually being mad if you did something you thought he wouldn’t care for. His features softened towards you. “Honey, I am always going to be okay with whatever you choose to read and want you to. You don’t ever have to hide them from me. It’s like the toys, I encourage it.” 

Any apprehension seemed to melt away when you got that confirmation from him, moving to ease yourself up. Curtis's arms shot up in a stretch while giving a yawn. “But tonight, I’m crashing early so no smut reading for me. Gotta do snow cleanup before leaving for the yard in the morning.” 

Your hand reached out for his, helping him off the couch. “Meet you upstairs?” 

“Go on up, I'm just gonna tend this fire and make sure the house is closed up for the night.” He tugged you in close for a second to steal a kiss and then released you towards the stairs. 

As you started up the old creaky stairs, with the various pieces of artwork and old photographs of his family hanging along the hallway leading towards Curtis’s bedroom, your pile of sewing materials piled on the bottom step amid some of Curtis's clothes that needed patching, to the kitchen where you could hear Curtis opening the cupboard above the stove that held all your teas and honey, out of the corner of your eye you saw the cover of one of your books on the coffee table your boyfriend takes sneak peeks at as well as his reading glasses perched atop of the cover, this old house with its stories that you were starting to become a part of and the man who would follow right behind you because he always tried to do what he said he was going to do, these things were starting to feel like home more then that drafty old apartment you had crashed landed in after you restart your life to get away from your ex. 

This was becoming where your heart belonged.

[baldursfate]

All Comes Crashing Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Her dreams were haunted by the urges, yet even those were clouded by a vision of ebony and gold. A gauntlet, warmed from clenched fists, pressed into her cheek. Messy hair tickled her sweat drenched skin, full lips meeting hers in a rushed kiss, full of teeth and adrenaline and vigor of a battle well-fought. Breaking away from the union, her dream self looked down at her hand. She was clutching a crown of sorts, though it hummed with an arcane energy. The fires of the hells burned hot around them, yet the metal of the crown was cool to the touch, the details of its making unknown to her. She looked up once more into the eyes of her lover, but found nothing. The memory of this man escaped her yet.

It was some time later before Tav awoke, chained to a crude imitation of a healer's table. She noticed she had been stripped of her equipment, left only in her undergarments. She observed with relief that her body was in tact. The stone slab was cold against her skin, and covered in the life blood and body fluids of countless other creatures. Fragments of bone shard littered the area, the edges uneven as if they had been smashed. A glance to her left revealed a stone bench with a multitude of surgeons tools, not unlike those she saw in the hands of Malus Thorm's apprentices. They were rusting, dull things, and sure to cause insurmountable pain. She shivered involuntarily, and for the first time since the nautiloid, she felt terrified.

As she took in her surroundings, more memories resurfaced. Pain, blood, her dark urges, a call to a father to not abandon his daughter, for her lover to save her. The memories were fragmented still, and along with the dream left a mounting ache in her temples. She knew for certain that she had been here before. Moonrise held the secrets to her past. She focused on the visions, hoping to claw her way deeper into her ruined mind, to find some sort of clue as to how to escape. She needed to act and fast. A whole lifetime had been taken from her, and Tav could not shake the feeling that the perpetrators wanted more.

The sound of footsteps interrupted Tav's quarry. She closed her eyes and evened her breathing, perhaps she could convince the cultists that she was still unconscious. She hoped that they preferred their prey awake and aware. The woman from before strolled up to the table, before roughly prodding Tav in the head. "Wake up, pet. Our games will have to wait. The chosen have congregated at the morphic pool, and our Lady has requested your presence." When Tav didn't respond, the woman grabbed one of the rusty scalpels. Tav felt a burning sensation, and a scream ripped it way out of her throat, her skin torn apart. Her eyes flew open, just in time to see the woman pull the instrument from her torso, and send it into her leg. Tears ran down Tav's face as she struggled in her restraints. "It seems like you've been a stray for much too long, pet. I shall have to domesticate you once more. When I speak, you shall reply, is that understood?" Humiliated and bound without a clear plan of escape, Tav nodded. "Wonderful, then let's get you ready to meet with the Lady. The Absolute blesses us this day, not many get an audience with her chosen."

Rusty shackles were clasped onto Tav's neck, wrists, and ankles before she was roughly pulled to her feet by a chain. A fresh rush of blood poured onto the floor, and she noted that the cut must have been deep. Hopefully, her companions would notice her being transported and intervene. Then Shadowheart could heal her. She limped behind the woman, being pulled at a pace much too quick for her wounded body. Three other cultists emerged from small rooms within the chamber, but were waved away by the woman. This was her pet, and she would be the soul recipient of the Chosen's blessing.

Tav followed the women throughout alleys of undulating flesh before coming to a transport of sorts. Working the cartiligenous controls, it began to move deeper into the colony. As the plate steadied, she was roughly shoved off by the woman and directed down another path.

Eventually, the pair emerged into a large room filled partially with morphic brine, and teeming with necromites. In the middle of the room was a raised platform, and Tav could see the silhouettes of three people. She recognized the tallest one as Ketheric. Tav caught sight of Dame Aylin, secured once again by arcanic shackles. The woman continued to lead Tav further into the room, and as they approached the platform, Tav caught sight of her companions. They were hidden, out of sight of the chosen, and the woman was too focused on her task to notice them. They all stared, wide eyed and horrified as their friend was led past. Tav felt a sense of relief. Although it was not in preferred circumstances, she had been reunited with her companions once more, and now had a fair chance of survival. Feeling more confident, she squared her shoulders and stood as straight as her broken body could, readying herself to face the chosen.

[amethysts-tavern]

This is a pseudo-true story, of course not about Gale, but someone who I thought completely out of my league at the time. I really enjoyed remembering this night.

_____________________

#14: Use a song.

“When you think I've loved you all I can

I'm gonna love you a little bit more”

-A Little Bit More, Dr. Hook

Camp is quiet tonight. Many of your companions have retired early. Just a few of you remain around the fire chatting about this and that, just enjoying each other’s company. You find yourself next to Gale, which delights you more than you’re willing to let on. He’s regaling you with tales of his travels, books he’s read, his antics in school. You are rapt with attention, staring into his eyes as he speaks to you just above a whisper. His tales tonight are just for you. You turn your body to lean in and face him, unintentionally shutting out the rest of your companions.

You’re not even sure how it happened, but his hand is in yours. You feel the weight of it resting in your lap while you trace the lines of his palm as he talks. Every so often a small whimper or sigh escapes his lips as you gently dance your fingertips over his palm. Something about tonight is special, whether it’s the wine or the connection between you two, you’re not entirely sure. 

The closeness between you two tonight is new. You’d been harboring these feelings for him for a while, but had dared not mention it to anyone, not sure how he felt about you. After all, his last lover had been a literal goddess. But here you are tonight, closer than close, sharing intimate details about love, life, and happiness. 

He mentions one of your favorite books as you talk. You didn’t know that he had enjoyed that genre or had even read that particular book and in that moment your heart beats just a bit faster for the wizard. I think I might just love him a little bit more, if that was even possible, you say to yourself.

But the evening has to come to an end at some point. Your companions have already started making their way back to their tents, leaving you alone with Gale to say good night.

“I really enjoyed our time together tonight,” you say softly, not sure how to draw to a close an evening that you really didn’t want to end.

“Me too,” Gale replies, his lack of words a first for him.

You open your arms to him for an embrace. He steps into you, placing his hands around the small of your back and drawing you near. And you hold there for a blessed moment. If anyone had been around to see, they might have thought it a bit too long for two who were just friends. He turns his head, mumbling something into the crook of your neck. You feel his soft lips kiss the sensitive skin of your neck, the warmth of his breath giving you goosebumps. You can feel the bristles of his beard on your exposed skin. Your head spins and your breath catches. Your heart takes a deep dive into your stomach at this simple touch.  

But alas, he takes a step back, catching your hands in his to give you a long, intense look. “Sweet dreams,” he says softly, a gentle smile on his lips. And he starts a slow walk back to his tent. Just before he disappears into the folds of the canvas, he glances back at you and beams.

[thanx-files]

Season 3 Wrap-Up

Let’s skip the boring part. We know the routine by now, and I have a lotttt to say this time around. Thoughts on Talitha Cumi and S3 below the cut.

Talitha Cumi

My least favorite season finale so far, if I’m honest. It’s not that the stakes weren’t high enough, it’s that I was confused for a lot of this episode. I, like Mulder, have precious little patience for Cancer Man and his musings, and there were a LOT of musings in this episode. I’m going to have to read the Wikipedia plot summary for this one. Also, not enough Scully.

Season 3

My favorite season so far. I know, I know “Thanx, you’ve said that every season!” If you’ll recall, I was on the fence about season 2 being better than season 1 (Pilot my beloved) because I feared recency bias. But I feel very strongly that S3 beats out both S1 and S2 pretty handily, recency notwithstanding. Why? Because it’s fun, in a way. The first handful of episodes are less so, but as the season finds a rhythm, there are these brilliant little character moments. Skinner gains a lot of depth this season, for example, but he also has some killer one-liners that tell us he is playing this game for better or for worse.

And as for Mulder and Scully? If there is one thing these two will do, it’s talk on the phone. Those were some of my favorite details this season. The classic “it’s me,” but also the way they can’t stay off the phone in Coprophages. The way Mulder knows Scully will stay on the line to eavesdrop in Avatar. Mulder, our “ticking time-bomb of insanity” starts to show his Captain Ahab side more (hello, Grotesque???). And Scully gets to call him on it! More importantly, the moment I’ve been waiting for: they finally let Scully be so so Catholic.

This season just went crazy, I don’t know what to tell you. There are some seriously unhinged episode progressions — and I’m not even talking about the two-parters. Coprophages to Syzygy to Grotesque (just two eps before Pusher)? Quagmire to Wetwired? Stop it.

5 fave eps (now with more musing!):

Revelations - I told y’all I wanted more Catholic Scully, and this episode really delivered. I love that our skeptic is religious, however remotely. I love Scully. I love that there is this part of her which the X-Files never seem to touch — until they do.

War of the Coprophages - The way they can’t stay off the phone with each other. The way Fox Mulder just HAPPENS to be in the cockroach town during the cockroach uprising. The bug that crawls across the screen. The way Mulder is eating chocolate cake while writing his report about how he narrowly escaped an exploding shit lab. The inexplicably exotic bug he squishes without hesitation.

Pusher - Fuck all the way off. The paper that just says “Pass.” “Smile, Scully.” Russian roulette. Russian roulette!!! I don’t need to tell you all about this. You already know. Plus, there’s this deeply unwell post I already made.

Jose Chung from Outer Space - I also already posted about this one, but the TL;DR is that this sitcom fanatic loves a frame story and a series of Events Which Probably Didn’t Happen Like That.

Quagmire - I KNOW I KNOW it was between this and Wetwired. But when it comes down to it, the Captain Ahab conversation is just too fucking good. Also, I feel I should honor the memory of Queequeg, who deserved better.

5 least fave eps:

The Blessing Way - It’s not that it’s a bad ep, it’s just not for me. I’ve never been much for the metaphysical “between life and death” thing where you talk to your dead dad and he tells you to keep living. This is because my heart is made of rocks.

The List - I’ve come to the conclusion that I just don’t like prison eps.

Piper Maru & Apocrypha - I just got lost. Glad to see Krycek again tho!

Talitha Cumi - See above.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to buckle my seatbelt for the [REDACTED] [REDACTED] arc. Maybe I’ll also rewatch the pilot just for kicks.