#bones is so horribly selfless

[dustykneed]

warning for bones whump ahead!! (last two images) not specific to any canon moment btw i just wanted to do some emotion/expressive lighting studies (no refs bc i like to be lazy oh wait jk its the adhd paralysis)

!!! whump below

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[imaslutforwritingshit]

Edward Cullen Imagine (XF!READER)

PART TWO

Warnings- smut, p in v, cunnilingus, faint jealousy (Jacob), passionate (lovey) sex

P.S I’ve actually never made smut where the characters actually loved each other😭 it’s mostly just desire. So this is actually kinda well written , just a foreword to the poetic shit she says.

Read PART ONE here ;)

I didn’t understand what he meant when he said that. I didn’t understand, until his cold fingers snakes down the bones of my hips, and he covered me with his strong body, like the crevices in my pelvic bone were made solely for his hands.

“You,” Edward strained, his voice gravely, unlike the normal smooth charisma he embodied. As he spoke in my ear, he pushed my shorts down with his thumbs, the cheeky underwear I had picked out this morning on a whim now on full display to him.

When Edward let his fingers graze the shape of my ass, his hand wavered on my skin, like every movement was delicate- and yet something he couldn’t contain. “You are making me lose myself. The way you sound, look, smell,” Edward inhaled sharply, grinding his hard cock across the sheer fabric of my underwear. The feeling sent shivers and tingles down the nerves of my stomach.

I wanted more. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I wanted this. His voice was amplifying my desire for him, each rough syllable a new jolt of electricity through my body.

Edward groaned as my panties rose up, his dick deeper in the planes of my ass. I could practically feel the veins of his body sliding on the skin of my ass cheeks.

He finished his sentence in a husky tone, each word getting harder for him to speak. “You make me want to do horrible things, Calypso. I want to be selfish with you. To you.” The lowness of his voice, if I didn’t know him as my boyfriend, would be straight up deadly- and terrifying.

My heart melted at the thought of Edward getting what he wanted, a strange mixture of lustful hormones and admiration for the words. Everything Edward has always been was good, and gentleman-like, and selfless.

So, yeah. I want him to be selfish. I want him to have what he wants, just for this evening.

I arched my back, pressing my entire ass against his erection. “I need you to be selfish, Edward. I want to see you lose control.”

Edward stopped moving for a second, breathing heavily over my body. I could feel his cock twitching on my underwear, and I bucked my hips backwards, urging him to keep going. He stopped my movement with a rough push on my hips, bringing my entire body to the cushion.

“Callie, Callie. I will never lose control.” he felt my body up, each grope electrifying my senses. “I desire ruining you. My body begs to. The amount of times I fantasized of killing you when I met you…You drive me insane, beautiful.” He paused, and I could almost feel a smile on his face. “But I’m not a dog. I wouldn’t eat you alive the first chance I get, for my own filthy benefit.” Edward bit his lip, tilting his head in a dangerously playful motion. “Unless, of course, you would prefer that. Canines?”

Realization dawned on me. Jacob. He was mocking me about Jacob. Where was this coming from?

“Edward, I don’t care about him. I want you.”

Edward draped his head by mine, the graceful stands of his hair falling on my cheek. “I don’t know why you enjoy that so much, Calypso. The thought of being weak. Under Jacob’s ruthless control.”

The words were true, but still irritating. I could only assume this fire of emotion was coming from his episode of lust, but my body was getting too many mixed emotions to understand how to feel about it.

Edward thumbed my panties now, sliding the strings down in a slow, taunting manner. “I know that animal would love to see you like that. Begging.” He snarled quietly at that, and took a quick breath as my underwear slid off my ass. “To see you asking him, pleading him to take control from you.”

I whimpered, a strange thrill coming from the anger in his voice. He was jealous- because he wanted me.

Maybe I’m sick for that having fueled my desire more.

But then again, maybe I’m sick for loving a vampire.

He kissed my shoulder blade, a soft contrast to the hardness of his words. “I’ve thought about tasting you for a long time.”

My blood.

A strange, unusual spike of fear entered my heart.

This was Edward. But he’s different now- fueled by emotions, unpredictable.

Is he gonna hurt me?

Edward kissed the small of my back, dragging his hands to my waist.

“I’ve thought about tasting you, Calypso. I just never said how.”

Edward grabbed my side, rolling me to be on my back. I stared at his eyes, animalistic and wild, blending in with the dark of the forest behind him.

“Spread your legs, my dove.”

My heart was pounding so fast, I could feel the pulse all over my body. Specifically throbbing in the area between my thighs, which I spread out per his orders.

Edward sucked in a breath in his teeth, the fangs in his mouth sticking out in a predatory manner. Only staring at my naked body, like the very sight was granting him vitality. He didn’t drop his frighteningly focused stare, and instead leaned over me, kissing my thighs. Each touch was tipping me over, teasing me in a painful way.

I remember what Edward had told me a month ago.

“So the lion fell in love with the lamb.”

I was indeed, a stupid lamb.

He grazed the skin below my stomach with his lips, tracing the lines of my hips with a trail of burning kisses. I was practically rocking my hips, a silent beg for more.

Edward pushed his cold, comforting hands on my hips again, forcing me down.

God, I could live in this moment forever.

This is my life now. He is my life now. I can’t see anything farther than this.

This is my past, my present, my future all encapsulated in one small, fleeting moment.

Edward stared at me, with intense, hot eyes, dragging on my breasts, my hips, and the slow trail to my clit. It would embarrass me- the heavy eye contact, with anyone else.

But Edward’s not like anyone else.

So I kept my gaze on him, as he kept his eyes on me, and let his warm tongue heat the area between my folds. I shivered from his godlike touch, unable to tear my eyes from the beautiful scene of his mouth on my body. He grasped my thighs harder, tracing circles with the perfect pressure on my clit.

As if he couldn’t control the quick movement, he snaked his tongue down to my wet opening, rolling movements inside of me. I mewled, gripping the sheets with white knuckles. My toes were already curling from the very idea of him touching me like this.

Edward bite down a little harder on the top of my pussy, licking my body like I was his last meal. Every touch was strategic, but am I surprised? He had 104 years of experience.

Orgasm was rising to my surface too quickly. I grabbed his hair, increasing the screaming thoughts of my mind, hoping he’ll understand. But the desire took over him- and he began flicking his wet tongue more, causing me to jerk my head backwards, clasping my thighs over his head.

“Please, Edward.” My gasps were filling the empty space, all of his movements sickeningly perfect.

He let go of me, the warm tongue exiting my folds, and I clenched my thighs together harder as he kneeled over me, his breath ragged and heavy. His lips were sleek with my fluid, and I felt my ears go red.

He was looking at me like I was the most beautiful thing to exist. He watched me, so intense that I could cower from his breathtaking gaze. Edward pulled his shirt over his head, the pale, shimmering color of his skin mesmerizing me.

The sun was out. Fading over the large pine trees of Forks- as if the universe had some perfectly divine idea of the first connection of our bodies.

His eyes were light brown in the sunlight, the lines of his abs sparkling in the warm orange of the sun.

“I’m crazy about you.” My confession was soft, so soft I wasn’t sure he heard it.

Edward slowly shook his head, but all I could focus on was the color of his eyes. It was the only thing tethering me from heaven.

He was a fallen angel, looking at me like I was the cure to his sin.

“Calypso. You are my destruction.” His breath quickened, his lean chest rising and falling with the pace of my own.

Edward’s mouth met mine one more time, one more soft, passionate time. I grazed my fingers over the muscles of his back, memorizing every part of this moment. Solidifying it in my nimble, mortal mind.

He let the tip of his dick slide on my wet pussy, staring at me with lustful eyes, eyes waiting for confirmation.

I nodded, biting my lip in preparation.

Edward let his thick shaft slide in my cunt, and I yelped, clenching his thick shoulders.

It hurt. His dick was so big, I was hardly prepared for it. But Edward, with the last remaining piece of willpower he had, slowed his movements, his hard body meeting the spongey, untouched area inside of me.

He hissed, dropping his body on mine, and he grazed his fingers through my hair, each thrust getting more powerful.

With that, I realized something.

Edward is a vampire.

A vampire with exceeding amounts of supernatural strength, and… stamina.

He showed no signs of reaching climax as he warmed my body with his cock, each stroke inside of me causing pleasure to shoot to my stomach.

I could faintly hear my reaction- unreal, loud moans that I assume the deers of the forest could hear. I mewled as he slowed down, pushing his forearms into the cushion. Edward let out a soft groan, stroking my face with his thumb. He repositioned his position, pushing his dick back in, and reaching new lengths of pleasure in my insides. I moaned, shamelessly, letting my fingers dig into his back.

The warm ball of nerves were heating at my core, a sign that I was reaching climax. Edward’s mouth dropped to my collarbones, sucking sharp hickeys as he thrusted inside of me, each movement rolling my eyes back.

I whimpered, stammering from the euphoria shaking my legs. “I’m-close…”

Edward moaned, a sound so beautiful I could’ve just watched him now, an artist and a masterpiece. He ground his hips to mine, hissing with the feeling of his body completely in mine. I let my hands fall over my head, closing my eyes to try to preserve the orgasm rising in my gut.

“No.” Edward’s voice was strained, the softness of his movements gone. Each thrust inside of me was hard, rough, matching his untainted desire. “Don’t close your eyes. I need to see you.”

I need to see you.

How could I love someone so much it hurt?

I opened my eyes weakly, meeting the heavy lidded, black pits of Edward’s. His abs clenched as he pushed inside of me, his hips bucking with a renounced speed. I gasped at the feeling of his dick hitting my cervix, trying to focus on his face, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Please,” I begged one more time, the need for my climax forcing my legs to shake on his.

Edward managed a smile, and dropped his body again, fully covering mine. He rocked into me, and I whimpered in his ear, letting my hands drop over his neck.

Nothing has ever felt this good. Nothing will ever feel this good.

Edward groaned, the thrusts getting so hard it began to hurt again, with a strange, overwhelming pleasure that came with the pain.

“Callie…” His voice was soft for the jerk of his hips, a warm sensation rolling over my body.

“Edward!” I squirmed, peak taking over my nerves.

“I know, love.” Edward’s breaths were fast in my ear, the jerk of his hips creating the sounds of skin slapping throughout the room. He let a heavy groan slip from his lips, and I felt the leak of precum making the inside of my pussy even more liquid.

“I’m going to-” Edward’s voice was nothing more then a raspy groan in my ear.

“Please, please!” I whimpered again, clenching my legs around his abdomen to avoid the painful desire of climax. He had edged me on for so long, I don’t think I could’ve waited anymore.

Edward’s movements turned hard, fast, a ripple of sensation arousing my body again. He growled, our skin smacking together with new volume, and orgasm blinded my vision, making me roll my eyes back, and arch my back until my clit touched the root of his cock. I screamed, scraping my nails on his back until I could’ve been sure there was blood.

Edward didn’t protest; in fact, he thrust harder with that, each movement causing him to heave breaths, the warm air hitting my ear. He moaned, a vibration in the mess of my hair, and quickly pulled his warm, wet body from my own, shooting strings of hot white on the base of my stomach, dripping down my sensitive cunt.

Edward rolled off of me slowly, collapsing on the small couch, both of our bodies reeling the affects of the tiresome fuck. I attempted to catch my breath, feeling my heart beating so fast I couldn’t hear the birds chirping anymore. Hesitantly, I turned my body to meet his, but Edward was already staring at me, the warmth of his expression a relief to me. He bit his lip, his chest rising the similar pattern mine was.

I processed everything, opening my mouth to speak, but not understanding how to phrase it.

“Edward?”

He smiled, the soft, mesmerizing action in my peripheral. “Yes?” The melody of his voice still left me catching my breath.

I couldn’t say the words. They rung in my mind, an untamable message dancing through my heart.

Three words.

I love you.

Edward let his eyes fall on mine, hearing the silent plea of my mind.

“I love you too, Callie.” His mouth was parted, and his lips were red from before, and he read my mind and read those words. I couldn’t help it when I draped over his body, kissing him like it was the first time all over again.

He snaked his arms over my bare body, his smooth knuckles tickling my spine. His lips draped over mine as if we were two puzzle pieces, separated for too long, and now here, and alive, and in love.

I loved Edward Cullen. I had the very first day I met him. And even if I die a mortal, holding the hand of the boy who will exist forever, I know I’ll live until the day he ceases to.

I’ll live in Edward’s heart,

And he’ll live in mine.

Because that’s what love is, right? A taste of forever.

And we were forever.

Okay that’s it byeeee

I am super open to constructive criticism and feedback, as well as recs. Thanks for reading ! :> <333

[nynyhaha]

Neon Nostrade and the naivety of evil

Neon is hated on by both Chrollos and Kurapikas stans.And I never really liked her as well,tho I don’t think she deserves the hate.As a character,she’s actually brilliant!

She sure is naive.But she’s not evil.She actually shows a wish to help people.I wonder if she’s aware what kind of people she’s helping with her ability,but I doubt it.

As someone who loves finding bones in the wild and making necklaces from them,who is interested in the way human remains look,I have to remind myself not to be like neon.

Because to her,the scarlet eyes are just a fun accessory.A part of the yorknew arc I overlooked when first watching HxH was the way her whole essence affects Kurapika distructively.

Kurapika is breaking his moral compass as he allies himself with such a brutal organisation as the Nostrade family.Yet his job is rather harmless:protecting the Bosses teenage daughter.

Someone who is naive,spoiled and throws tantrums,but not someone who’s a bad person.I believe that Kurapika really wanted to protect her and keep her safe.

But she’s the customer. She is on the demand end,Chrollo does the supply,and Kurapikas family is the product

I don’t know why the troupe murdered the Kurta clan.But I know they sold their eyes because there were people willing to buy them.If not for people like her,the Kurta eyes wouldn’t even be on the black market.People who harvest human eyes and sell them are worthy of Kurapikas wrath,but people who buy those eyes and create the demand should be too.

Remember how Kurapika and Melody had to obtain body parts so they would be hired?Well,how do we know those body parts were ethically sourced?

What gives Neon the confidence,that the eyes aren’t from someone who was killed for them? But she doesn’t ask that question.

I doubt she knows how they were gathered,but she doesn’t know because she doesn’t even THINK about it.

That is sociopathic behaviour,but just like it’s normalised to eat meat in our society without thinking much where it comes from(I am myself guilty of that but I don’t feel guilt)in the world Neon grew up in,the history behind the desired treasure is not relevant.

This is also so interesting because out of Kurapika,Chrollo and Neon,Neon is the most innocent.

Kurapika is going down a dark path of working with the Mafia such as Neons father and actually killing someone.Chrollo is the reason for that.And who is on the other end of Kurapikas loss and Chrollo’s crimes?

A cute little girl.She hasn’t ever killed anybody.She’s valued by her father just for her ability.She wants some independence so she goes out and talks to Chrollo.

The phantom troupe turns out to be more human than Kurapika could’ve ever imagined.That results in him questioning his worldview where only the most evil psychopaths could do what the troupe did,but the troupe doesn’t consist of psychopaths.

And what about Neon?Shes not only a human with feelings,but she doesn’t even have bad intentions.She is not even a bad person.

Tserri is.And we would all expect someone like him to be on the demand end of the pipeline.

But there’s another type of person happy to have kurta eyes,someone who is looking at them with genuine,childlike wonder.

The phantom troupe teaches us that people can do unspeakable things while still having the ability to care about their friends,still having family like bonds with others.It’s possible to be a ruthless criminal who is selfless enough to sacrifice oneself for a loved one.

But Neon is the opposite of that.You can be a cheerful,delusional rich girl who doesn’t what to hurt anybody ,and yet be part of something as horrible as the body part market.

If the phantom troupe are monsters with feelings,Neon isn’t a monster at all.That’s what makes her even more terrifying.

Rather than ending up as Kurapikas or Chrollos,it seems that we are most likely to end up as a Neon.Because we are not required to kill to be affiliated with evil

[enderwoah]

im so unwell about q!pac no its not even funny anymore i need to put him in a terrarium up on a shelf and keep him safe up there. he doesn't deserve any bad thing, ever. i don't even care about "having a good story" or "giving your character a conflict" anymore, nah, no, if ONE (1) MORE BAD THING HAPPENS TO HIM IM GONNA LOSE IT!! IM GONNA START BREAKING THINGS!!!

he's so. sad. hes such a sad character. his insecurities about being useless to everyone are so real and so painful because he's not, all of us know that he's not, but we also completely understand why he feels that way because he's had everyone he loves ripped away from him and he hasn't been able to lift a finger to stop any of it. he's just left to sit in the ruins without any help. he's collateral to all the tragedy surrounding him and the favela 5 in general and he's. tired. not in the way that cellbit is tired (though that works, too). he's exhausted of feeling sad all the time. of crying all the time. of feeling that loneliness that gnaws holes into his bones and settles in the marrow and never leaves, not when richas' bed is empty, not when mike's bedroom has started to collect dust, not when he can't see a real, tangible presence in forever's dilated eyes. the only person he has is cellbit, and he could never ask cellbit to give up what he still has when pac has nothing to lose (and god, how selfless, how kind is that?), so when he figures the only way to get an antidote to the drug is to have the drug itself, why wouldn't he offer himself up? and if that wasn't the only reason he tried to get his hands on it, who could blame him?

maybe he took it first to just feel the effects and understand the angle it took in affecting his mind. maybe he just took it for research. do you think he had slipped by the second time? do you think he took it once and, for a short thirty minutes, found that he could forget about all the sorrow lining his lungs and breathe? do you think reality crashed back onto him after that first try? do you think he was scrambling to take it again, to go back to that...maybe it wasn't blissful ignorance, per se, but willful disregard? do you think he couldn't wait to be submerged so deep that he couldn't think one more time? do you think he was hesitant? do you think he kept promising himself, one more, one more, one more...

god he is so. so sad. i was watching phil's pov, so everything was like a neat little movie for me, and just. cellbit and forever arguing while pac was just sobbing in the background was AWFUL. just. awful. it hurt. (cc!pac was damn good at acting, too, and that DID NOT HELP.) the moment he stepped on the trap i felt like i was hit with a brick. like no, of COURSE we should NOT be putting PAC in a CONFINED JAIL CELL. ALONE. and i know it was for his own good but i still felt so so so sick. the way he immediately curled up in the corner. the way he was crying to himself. the way he instantly answered richas' birthday the moment bad asked for it. the way he got visibly more upset and terrified when cellbit started shouting at forever. what the hell. no seriously what the HELL.

and, like, oh my god, making him the one to solve the antidote? proving that even though he may have fallen to the drug (the drug which was basically created by GODS, by the way, lets be real, the federation is nawt normal), he's still so useful. he's still such an asset. he's smart and he's kind and he's charismatic and he's trusting and he's so so selfless and so so brave and so strong. tubbo put it perfectly. the fact that he's gone through all the horrible awful stuff he's gone through and he's still standing just proves how capable he is. how tough he is. cellbit calling him "my dear." pointing out the fact that he sacrificed himself without knowing he was going to come back. "i'm only afraid of being sad again." "you will be sad again. but you won't be alone." he's so. he's just. he's. im frothing at the mouth. he gave himself up to save the rest of the island from this plague that took one of his best friends and might've taken the entire island if he didn't do anything. under that stress. experiencing that level of loss.

pac is one of the toughest goddamn people on the island and if anyone on that server even dares try to imply otherwise i will do heinous heinous things, mark my WORDS.

[lokiified]

a world with you

summary: when you get back from a mission, and Ethan isn't there.

pairing: ethan hunt x f!agent!reader

word count: 2.8k

author's notes: descriptions of injury, mention of a python snake, anxiety over major character death, flirty banter and some suggestive stuff, reference to a Jason Mraz song, so angsty for a bit but sweet fluff i promise, established relationship, no use of y/n, taking care of ethan bc he deserves it, i imagined this with mi2 ethan bc that look is just unmatched so this takes place in like 2007

The innocent mumble of traffic below the window was starting to give you a headache. Your ears had been strained, pricked-up to the slightest of noises, for what felt like ages.

Battered and bruised from the mission, you’d stumbled into the safehouse a mere hour ago. You were running on only adrenaline and Ethan’s training playing on loop in your brain as you instinctively started undressing to clean your wounds. The haze in your mind mercifully numbed the burn of rubbing alcohol and the aches in your bones, and when you finally came-to you’d showered and changed into a clean set of clothes. It was then that you realized that you didn’t know where Ethan was.

“If I don’t make it back, please don’t come looking for me,” he’d always said, brushing gentle lines across your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb, “keep yourself safe first.” He would press a soft kiss to your forehead, as if it would seal his words into your mind.

But now, now that he really wasn’t here, now that it was the fear of a dreaded possibility coming true that was clawing it’s way done your spine, it took more strength than any mission to keep yourself from throwing on your jacket and boots and marching back into the world, exhausted as you were, to find him.

The mission was simple: get in, plant a trace on a necklace in the hotel’s vault, and get out. You’d both been expecting the security in the back hallways of the hotel, but what you hadn’t prepared for was that one of the goons was an ex-agent, defected and gone rogue a few years prior; he recognized the two of you immediately. In the midst of the struggle, you’d been separated from Ethan.

Now, hands trembling as they fidgeted in your lap, you were waiting. The window in the living room was open and the apartment was dark, depriving every other sense to focus all of your attention on listening, waiting for Ethan to come back. Surely he was going to come back?

But the men were big and there were at least a dozen of them, and the memory was pierced with the crack of gunshots beneath the haze of adrenaline as you made a break for it.

You… made a break for it? Why did you run? Why didn’t you stay and fight like Ethan probably did? You were such a coward. How could you leave him there to fend for himself? Of course he’s can take care of himself, but what if he’s dead?

Then it would be your fault.

The guilt suddenly choked your lungs like a python with its prey, stifled sobs wreaking silent havoc on your body as you pulled your legs up to your chest and hugged yourself, burying your face into your knees. He was dead and it was your fault, all your fault. He had always been so selfless, so brave and so willing to do anything for you, even back when he barely knew you. You were a horrible person. You could never face Luther again; not with the knowledge that it was your fault Ethan was dead, that you had killed him—

“Agent?”

Your head snapped up from your knees, eyes locking onto the figure that had appeared in the window’s reflection. The sudden roar of blood pounding in your ears made you dizzy, and you squinted into the inky black night as you stumbled through the fog in your brain: he certainly looked like your Ethan, although the silhouette of his hair falling around his shoulders was the only detail you could make out in the darkness, but it seem impossible. He couldn’t be here. You’d left him behind, he was dead and it was all your fault. But then who was this man that had the key to the safehouse? Should you run? Suddenly the reflection was moving, then there was movement in your peripheral, and a figure that looked a whole lot like the Ethan you loved came and crouched in front of you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “I’m right here.”

His hands reached your waist but you jumped back at his touch and scrambled into the cushions, half expecting this to all be a hallucination. His hands recoiled and quickly raised in surrender, his brows twitching together with worry as he watched you, your chest beginning to heave in panic. Your heart longed to believe it was Ethan, wanted nothing more than to melt into his touch, but it didn’t make sense for him to be here.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on yours as he slowly lowered a hand. You eyed the gun on the holster around his shoulders, but he moved past it and found the buttons of his shirt, undoing each one slowly and moving to slide the shirt over his shoulders. He quickly dropped it on the floor and brought his hands up again.

“It’s me, okay? I promise. You can check, I promise it’s me.”

You inspected him from afar, noting the smattering of bruises across his ribs and the graze of a bullet on the underside of his right arm, crusted over with blood. His skin was covered with a thin sheen of sweat and grime, but nowhere could you find any seams or signs of deception. You moved closer to him.

“Tell me something only my Ethan would know about me,” you said, your voice wavering in the aftermath of your panic. Ethan smiled, warming your heart with his radiance.

“Our first date was two years ago, in Rome, when our mission got called off after we’d already landed. I took you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant that overlooked the city, and we danced to that Jason Mraz song you love so much-“

“A World With You,” you finished with him, slipping off the cushion and into his open arms on the floor. His arms encircled you and squeezed gently, and your tears came spilling out of you at the comfort of his touch. He moved so his back was against the couch and you were cradled in his arms, his head resting atop yours as he stroked your arms to soothe you.

“I thought you were dead, I thought they killed you… I thought you were dead and it was my fault because I left you there, how could I leave you there?” The words tumbled out of you between sobs, your mind and body expelling all of your fears into his warm embrace.

“No, hey, I told you to run, remember?” He said, bringing a hand to lift your face and look at him. “I told you to run as soon as the guard recognized us, remember?” You shook your head, trying to recall his voice but all you could hear was the sound of gunshots and shouting fading behind you as you raced through the halls.

“I promise I told you to run, okay?” He brushed away the trail of tears on your cheeks and moved the hair out of your face as he spoke. “You were just following orders, you did the right thing.” His voice was like a balm to your wounds, soothing the guilt that gripped your chest. The rest of the night was coming back to you; Ethan’s frantic shout when he realized the situation with the guard, his promise to come find you. Your breathing evened out. You became aware of his own heart beating solidly beneath your weight, of the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Yeah… yeah okay,” you whispered, resting your head against his chest again. You focused on breathing, on the steady thumping of Ethan’s heart, the proof that he was alive here with you.

“We should really get you cleaned up,” you said after a while, and he sighed.

“I missed you,” he replied as he squeezed you tighter.

“I missed you too, but that doesn’t change the fact that you desperately need a shower.” His head sprung away from resting atop yours and he looked at you in disbelief.

“What are you saying, Agent?”

You pecked a kiss on his nose and grinned, “you stink.”

He broke into a grin and leaned closer to you, placing a hand on the back of your head and capturing your lips in a kiss. You moved in perfect tandem with each other, the anxieties of the day fading into the background as you poured your heart into this moment, this single moment where nothing else exists besides the two of you, kissing in the dark like two teenagers on stolen time.

Your arms draped over his shoulders and your hands moved to tangle in his hair, pressing your body against his as if you could get any closer to him. His hands moved between cupping your face and gripping your waist like he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you more. His teeth caught your lower lip and you released a breathy moan, and you felt his lips curl into a smile at the sound. He broke away with heavy breathing, pushing your hair out of your face.

“I thought I smelled bad” he whispered with a smile as you caught your breath.

“Oh you do.” Ethan leaned in to kiss you again, but you pulled away and stood to your feet. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” His face melted into a pout and you laughed, causing his lips to twitch up into a smile and betray his feigned offence. You reached your hands out to him and he accepted your help, standing up slowly. You noted the way he grimaced as he stood and your eyes flicked across his body in search of the source of his pain.

“Do you need help walking to the bathroom?” you asked, then rolled your eyes when he quickly shook his head. “Let me rephrase that: I’m going to help you walk to the bathroom.” Ethan grinned at you and accepted your aid, slinging an arm around your shoulder and lending you some of his weight. Slowly, the two of you made it to the bathroom where you set him down on the closed toilet seat. His shirt stayed behind on the floor of the living room, and in the dim light and sweet aroma of the candles you found in the cupboard you helped Ethan peel off the rest of his clothes and expose the wounds underneath. Mercifully, there were no major gashes besides the bullet graze on his arm.

“Are you injured at all?”

You gave him a stern look, “you’re not allowed to ask that until I’m done taking care of you.” You finished wrapping his arm and stepped back to inspect the rest of him, then walked over to the tub and started running the hot water.

You noticed the way his eyes followed you wherever you went, his gaze warm and filled with longing, like you were the most important thing in the world.

As the tub filled up you helped Ethan to his feet and into the now ankle-deep water. You pulled two towels and a facecloth from the shelf and put them on the mat in front of the tub. You’d showered earlier, but you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to pamper Ethan after a hard day. Goodness knows he deserves it.

You shut off the water and slid out of your sweats and t-shirt, the chill of the darkened apartment hitting you suddenly before you dipped your toes in the water. It was the perfect temperature, and warmed you instantly as you submitted yourself further into its embrace. You both sat facing each other, knees to your chests, the steam of the water rising up to color your cheeks and twist Ethan’s hair into curls.

Allowing the silence to linger like the steam in the air, you motioned for Ethan to turn around so his back was to you. You cupped your hands and brought water up to his head, soaking his hair through. You smiled to yourself as you reached for the shampoo, grateful that Ethan had remembered to bring his own products. He was very passionate about his precious hair, and the IMF’s safehouse supplies were never up to his standards.

You massaged the product into his scalp, the tension that remained in his neck melting away with every press of your fingers. His head rolled back and his shoulders dropped, and you caught a glimpse of his small smile, eyes closed in bliss. I should do this more often, you thought to yourself.

When you were done with his hair you pulled the showerhead from its hook on the wall and rinsed his head, combing your fingers through the strands as you went. Once the last of the shampoo was rinsed out you took the facecloth and lathered it up with soap. Gently, you scrubbed away the sweat and grime from the day, kneading the sore muscles beneath Ethan’s battered skin.

“I remember this one,” you whispered, so as not to startle him in the sacred stillness that had settled over the room. Your ministrations had paused at a long white scar, poorly healed and puckered. You dragged your finger down it, from the top of his right shoulder blade to his waist. “You got it in Malasia, back in ’04.” Ethan turned around to face you, a serious look set into his features.

“I remember,” he said, and you could see him flipping through the memories in his head. “You were captured. I disobeyed direct orders and went to rescue you.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile; he had saved your life that day.

“That was the day I realized I loved you.”

The sound of limbs wading through water wafted up your ears in the steam as you watched Ethan’s face, his hand coming up from the water to cup your face and his head leaning forward to rest against yours. You closed your eyes, feeling the heat radiating from his body and the dew that was rising on his skin from the heat of the water.

You’d always found a way back to each other, even before everything.

After a few minutes he pulled away and pressed a kiss to the edge of your hair, inhaling to smell your shampoo and smiling against your skin. You raised yourself out of the water and his eyes grazed over your body, a hint of his playboy smirk surfacing but he seemed to think better of it; it had been a long, tiring day for the both of you. Instead of whatever had crossed his mind, he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on the front of each of your thighs. When you were both dried off, you pulled on your clothes from earlier.

“Let me go get you something, I’ll be right back.”

You returned with a soft cotton t-shirt, a deep green that complimented his tanned skin and chestnut hair beautifully, and his favorite pair of sweatpants. The sight of him in such comfortable clothes, a cheeky smile on his face, made your heart soar with joy. He deserved every comfort you could ever bring him. His hands were warm when they reached yours, fingers intertwining as you lead him into the darkened bedroom, the moon and city lights casting a gentle blue glow onto the bed.

You fell asleep almost instantly, but Ethan laid awake for hours. Despite the exhaustions of the day, he didn’t feel like he could sleep yet. He had been worried about you too; worried he would come back to the safehouse and find it empty, void of your presence which he so desperately needed. He always needed you, but after days like today he felt like he might die without you. There was no one else he felt safe enough to surrender to; no one else he could give his weakness and pain to and trust them to handle it with care.

The gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath his arm was continuously drawing him closer to sleep, but he felt the need to reflect on your time together and make sure he hasn’t taken anything for granted after being half-convinced he had lost you today.

He thought of Rome, of the way your face shone in the glow of the city lights beneath the rooftop where you danced with him. He thought of waking up beside you in countless countries that the average person could never name. He thought of the day he told you he loved you, hiding in a Russian forest while hiding for your lives. He thought of the day you were assigned to his team, your sweet and innocent face immediately lighting up his world despite the darkness that haunts him.

With your hands intertwined, your bodies as close as physically possible, and his mind filled with memories of a world with you, Ethan finally submitted himself to rest.

[ournachojesus]

Dead plate talk (part 2)

Why do people ship Vincent and Rody?

If you didn’t see the last post then you may not get what I’m saying entirely but I’ll try to provide context.

Last time I said that they are the different sides of the same coin. Cat and dog. Selfish and selfless. Dark and bright. People hater and people pleaser. So different but connect in so many ways. People like when opposing sides are attracted to one another. When their souls are far more intertwined than they themselves know. Both fools, chasing after happiness with methods that lead to nothing. Rody is offering his everything on a plate for others to eat and Vincent is a gluten that’ll not even leave bones behind.

Vincent was the first to go mad. Since he and Rody are so similar, do you think Rody would have done something horrible as well? Vincent was closer to the edge than Rody so does that mean with just a little push he would be there too? That edge might have been one of the endings. To be consumed? To be (supposedly) left by someone you love? To find your loved one taken? Really up to you. What happened with Rody after?

Spiraling down slowly till they went hand in hand in a sudden drop. What happens when the selfish and selfless finally sees what the other has? When it’s that extremes. It can be quite chaotic.

Also people like to pair those they find attractive together.

messed up little guys that suffer chose extreme actions to try and find happiness. Once they meet they drive the other or both a little (lot) insane. Then you just smush them together like dolls and say “now kiss”.

Aka - Opposites attract but fucked up and with cannibalism

[sky-kiss]

Ok. So, it was mentioned that it’s possible that Raphael could be reborn as a lemure and, now fully integrated into Hells’ system, he would work his way up as an actual devil. It was requested that Tav/Durge find them as a lemure and protect him as he worked his way through this system. 

It’s a fascinating idea. I’m so pro this happening. However, after sitting with the idea for a bit, I don’t think I could do it as a small fic, and I don’t currently have the time to work on it as a long story. So, I’m going to sketch out what I roughly see happening. Someone else can use it, or I’ll develop it later. 

Most of this has the vibe of a like, rolling an alt character in an MMO and getting your max-level geared friend to sherpa you through the game. I refer to Tav/Durge as Targe because it’s just an unpleasant name. 

LEVEL GRINDING RAPHAEL: THE STORY

After getting Chronos’d by his dad, the essence of Raphael’s soul is reborn as a lemure in Avernus. Notably, being a disgusting, amorphous, suffering, horrible flesh blob is not as appealing as being a sexy man. 

Tav/Durge goes to hell and entreats Asmodeus (who should not meet with them, but hey. Targe is a freak punching way above their weight class). 

Asmodeus agrees to direct Targe to Rapahel’s soul; in exchange, Asmodeus has a claim to Targe’s soul. They will also agree to bring Raphael to him once he’s leveled. 

Targe spends the next century or so sherpa’ing Raphael. They kill demons for him, so he gets the XP/soul energy. Eventually, he’s able to go through the ritual.

Targe brings the horrible flesh blob to Asmodeus. The Lord of the Ninth genuinely finds the whole situation hilarious.

Asmodeus pledges Raphael to his service. He promotes him to an imp.

And because it’d be even funnier, he touches Imp!Phael’s forehead and gives him back all of his prior life memories.

This is not ideal. Raphael now very clearly remembers Targe betraying/killing him.

But he is an imp. And very small. With very few outlets for his rage.

Targe and Imp!Phael proceeded to go on a massive killing spree through the Hells. Potentially, while running side-quests for Asmodeus for extra XP gain. 

Targe is very apologetic about the entire situation and mentions how much they ended up missing Raphael. He is a petty little bitch about all of this. But. Targe doesn’t leave him.

Over the next few centuries, Targe continues to help him progress through the system. Raphael watches them age and feels…melancholy. He’s a full devil now, but some of his memories of his life soften him a touch towards his companion. 

 I offer you the image of bone or horn devil Raphael curled up around his wizened guardian.

At this point, he is pretty well self-sufficient. He’s brutally cunning. He has street cred. He’s reasonably well-geared. Targe could go home. They refuse.

Now, for story fun, we know that Raphael will work/kill his way to being a duke. It’s going to take him a few thousand years, but he’s going to get there. And Targe is going to be long-dead at that point.

 And so I posit: Raphael, in his one selfless act, draws up a contract or pledges to find Tav when they are reborn in the lemure pit. 

And the cycle begins again. 

[im-not-dare-devil]

Home

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Bucky’s heart beat against his rib cage, as he laid, motionless on the floor. His chest ached as the pressure in his sternum grew with each beat of his exhausted heart. For the first time in a long time, Bucky wished to go home. But the janky stairwell and smell of Mrs. Norsburg’s perfume and Steve’s crooked smile broken by some bigger guy’s fist wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t wish for the bed he had shared with his sister. He didn’t wish for the comfort of people who knew his name, not his face. 

No, Bucky wanted to go home.  

Home where redheaded assassins ranted about annoying Sitcom characters. Home where Wakandian warriors often broke in to glare at his messy kitchen and offer frozen Toaster Strudel. Home where ex-fly boys smiled pretty and bright, just for Bucky. Home where Friday nights were booked for movie binging, and no one judged when Bucky asked to watch something a little older. Home where it was okay if he had bad days, and his missing arm flared as his confused brain tried to use it. Home where nagging therapists weren’t expecting something that, if they looked just a little closer – if they took one second to understand one thing outside of themselves, they’d never find it. 

Bucky wanted to go home where he had someone to call  baby and doll and sweetheart. Bucky wanted to go home where he could fall into bed next to his best friend and ask him how his day was. 

“Great,” Sam would say on some days. 

“Horrible,” Sam would say on others. And Bucky would paw at his shoulder, until he rolled into Bucky’s chest, planting his face in its place between Bucky’s chin and collar bone.

Bucky had wished for that peace; yearned for it since he was a boy. Since he was ten and confused on why he wanted Mrs. Norsburg’s son to notice him so much more than he wanted her daughter, too. 

What would your mother think, James? A voice that sounded too eerily like some distorted, controlling, disapproving version of himself. 

“You’re too hard on yourself.” A voice sounding like Natasha.

“No one else’s opinion matters.” A voice sounding like Ayo.

“Hang in there, buddy.” The cat poster hanging in the government designated therapeutic service office read. 

Bucky wanted to go home, the ache in his chest subsiding as he regained his breath and pushed himself off the ground. He had been selfless for so long, fighting for some war he didn’t fucking believe in; for some institution who wouldn’t jump to give it’s life for him in the same way he had been trained to give his for it. 

He wanted to go home to his Sweetheart; his Love; his Sam.

[pansexualkiba]

Hi If I may ask could you take this small idea for me.

All for one shows up just as bakugo comes back alive Izuku realizing something doesn’t reach to grab bakugo hand but runs to embrace All for one. From Izuku side he has woken up his own version of AFO and Comes up with the selfless plan to hug All for one (Who is pretty frozen that his kid is hugging him but in return feels quirks being taken and pulling one for all away) and take a few of his quirks until he feels his body has taken enough but slowly start crack down and AFtomura isn’t having it (more so he is lost a what to-do)

This is all I have I can’t think of anymore I’d like you to make something of it for me please and thanks -🍪 cookie for your troubles

This may not be exactly what you wanted but this is what I was able to come up with - I'm not used to doing requests, haha ^^; @doubleheaded-angel

"Your final boss..." Bakugou grinned manically. "IS ME! DUMBASS!"

"You..." All for One growled. "I thought I'd seen the last of that stupid little mongrel who stole my baby brother from me-"

"WAIT!"

All for One, Bakugou, and All Might's prone maybe-corpse all froze and turned towards the sound. It was......... Midoriya Izuku!

"DEKU?!" Bakugou shouted. "WHEN DID- Fucking, GO TAKE CARE OF SHIGARAKI, I'M STEPPING IN LIKE WE AGREED!"

"Young Midoriya!" All Might coughed out, "You need to prioritize-"

"So." All for One coolly interrupted All Might, "One for All has come to return to me once more-"

"I am here!" Midoriya completely bulldozed over All for One, "And I'm going to do one thing!"

Midoriya sped towards the battlefield.

"I'M GOING TO HUG MY DAD!" Midoriya declared manically.

"HAAH?!" Bakugou's eyes bulged out of their sockets.

"Y-Young Midoriya!" All Might protested. "Not that I do not appreciate your concern, but there is a time and a place, and besides, I haven't even talked to your mother about such things-"

Midoriya tackle-hugged All for One, who was frozen in disbelief.

"Ah." All Might grimaced. Blood began pouring out of his mouth. "I see."

"THAT L.E.D. SON OF A BITCH IS YOUR DEADBEAT DAD?!" Bakugou demanded.

"All for One has a son?!" Edgeshot reacted in shock.

"Why are you still here?" Bakugou wondered.

All for One... No, Hisashi slowly began to return Midoriya's embrace. "How did... You know? Izukkun?"

"You look exactly how you do in that wedding photo mom tried to shred in the garbage disposal." Midoriya explained.

"Ah." Hisashi grimaced. "That wouldn't happen to be the one from the photo album I treated with Teflon Spray x2, Induced Impenetrability, and Flameproof Object x3, would it?"

"The one with the green cover."

"Yeah, that's the one. She was that mad?"

"You vanished without even paying child support." Midoriya explained blithely. "Anyone'd be mad. Kacchan doesn't call you a deadbeat for nothing."

"AND I'M RIGHT."

They didn't acknowledge Bakugou. Instead, father and son stood there, embracing for what felt like an eternity. The fighting had drawn to a complete halt, as everyone slowly became uncomfortable with this ridiculously private family moment.

Kilometers away, Todoroki Shouto's eyes snapped open.

"Shouto?!" Fuyumi startled.

"Fuyumi-nee." Shouto wheezed. "Something is horribly wrong."

Back with the Midoriyas, Hisashi made to let go of his son, perhaps to ask politely for One for All, but Izuku did not let go. "Um, Izukkun?"

Midoriya began to clutch harder.

Hisashi felt something in him jump. This was not a good thing, as what had jumped was Hair Manipulation Quirk number twelve.

"Izukkun?" Hisashi asked again, a bit more panicked.

Another Quirk, Flame Feet number four. Then Spider Thread number six. Then Spearlike Bones, then Pinkie Promise, then Noise, then Search - all of Hisashi's stockpiled Quirks had begun to revolt within him.

"What is this?!" Hisashi, no, All for One demanded. "What are you doing, Midoriya Izuku?!"

"When you gave Stamina Stockpile to Uncle Yoichi," Midoriya muttered, "You didn't check to see if he had another Quirk. Inheritance fused with Stockpile to create One for All, and that's what I've now inherited from All Might."

All for One's breath caught in his throat - or perhaps that was Prehensile Tongue Quirk number two.

"It looks like," Midoriya continued, slowly gaining confidence, "You should have checked yourself to see if I had a Quirk or not instead of relying on reports from your doctor. Because now that One for All has been passed on to me, it's fused with the actual Quirk I had this whole time."

Midoriya's head snapped upwards to stare his mortified father in the face.

"Tell me!" Midoriya grinned rebelliously, "What kind of Quirk would be born from an Attraction Quirk and a Quirk to take other Quirks!"

All for One immediately began to cycle through possibilities, coming up with two most likely candidates. Foremost, a long-range version of his own was certainly on the table, but then his own son wouldn't be latched onto him like a limpet if that was the case. But the other idea was a Quirk that attracted other Quirks, but didn't keep them. An infinitely weaker variation of his own-

Just like Inheritance had been.

"One for All: Quirk Attraction!" Midoriya declared, proving All for One correct. "Sorry, dad, but consider this child support!"

"You-" All for One grimaced as blood began to mingle with his saliva. He could feel the Quirks leave his body, absorbed into his son's own stockpile. "You insolent brat!"

"That's no way to talk to your son." All Might chuckled from his position on the ground. "What would Inko think?"

"DON'T YOU DARE TALK ABOUT MY WIFE, ALL MIGHT!" All for One screamed, but his body slowly began to shrivel like a juice pouch as several vitality-based Quirks left him at once. I need to escape! All for One realized. What my foolish progeny has yet to realize is I still have my Mental Ejection Quirk! Times five! Backup, here I come!

Shigaraki startled as All for One entered his brain. "Aw, fuck, I thought I got rid of you." Shigaraki grumbled.

"Wait, hold on," Hisamura frowned. "Why are you here?"

"Our son." Hisashi explained. "That's twice now we've failed to account for our most precious having some invisible Quirk."

"Ah," Hisamura grimaced. "Well, in that event, you are more than welcome to help me eliminate what yet remains of Young Tomura's mind."

"Yeah, no." Shigaraki grimaced. "I'm still going to evict both of you. In fact..." Shigaraki manifested in his brain space and kicked Hisamura into Hisashi, effectively merging the two into one being. "There, that's less confusing."

"Foolish Tomura." All for One grinned. "Don't you realize th- Hrk- What?"

All for One's stomach began to cave in, and then hundreds of hands reached out of the darkness of Shigaraki's mind and grasped at All for One.

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!" All for One demanded.

"It was my final request for Iguchi." Shigaraki smirked. "In the event of my body getting somehow possessed, I wanted him to spike my pre-pep rally energy drink with that weird hippie tea that makes your third eye prolapse or whatever." Shigaraki became concerned. "I hope he's doing alright..."

"WHY?!" All for One seethed as the hands slowly began to break him apart.

Shigaraki shrugged.

"THIS IS WHY I DIDN'T WANT KIIIIIIIIIIIIIDS-" All for One screeched as he was pulled into the vortex of Midoriya's own version of All for One, having effectively been created by the fusion of One for All and an unrelated, incredibly weak Quirk.

All for One, in the real world, slumped over, dead.

Midoriya huffed and puffed. "Now..." Midoriya heaved, "Now All Might's my dad... You goddamn son of a bitch..."

Kilometers away, Todoroki Shouto closed his eyes. "I am now at peace. Take me home, Touya-nii."

"SHOUTO! NO!" Natsuo begged, "DON'T GO TOWARDS THE LIGHT!"

[gaunt-and-hungry]

Guilty pleasure of mine when I read about other people's OCs:

Very disfigured or disabled in some way. Preferably by struggle or strife but disfigured and disabled for the win. Give me ugly people that are half walking corpse or facially damaged and crippled. I love OCs that are scarred horribly and branded by tides that were absolutely not in their favour. I don't hate Immaculate characters. Like Flawless skin. Pretty eyes. Neat clothes. Nice complexion. It's... fine. But Life is brutal. Hideous. I mean I want: "This has crippled me in a way and I drug myself out of this situation barely alive and hooo-boy is my body threatening to fall apart. I shouldn't be able to see that much of my bone." I am such a sucker for this. And yet they recover and must live with the results of their disfigurement or disabled body. I want characters that, when they remove their clothes in front of someone that they trust they earn a gasp or a stunned look and that person looks down and away, shameful or horrified and thinks that they have been made privy to something that is very very private and they cherish that trust shown to them. And then the mangled character goes: "Oh. Yeah. That. I forgot about those a little. Hard to see them. Unsightly things, aren't they?" Or give me characters that are so ashamed of the hideous nature of their physical body that they fear they are not as pretty or pleasant to look at. Like there's people out there that are easier on the eyes. Who wants used goods like they are, even? Why would anyone want to be with such damaged goods? They're disfigured by an unkind life or through hardship or sacrifice or even just by birth and have had to learn to cope and deal with it. Perhaps they are sensitive to temperature because of burns or frostbite scars or they struggle to handle certain objects because of damaged hands or fingers or they struggle on certain terrain because they have crippled legs or weak limbs or missing parts. Perhaps they have to learn to use their non dominant side. Either an eye that isn't their aiming eye. Or to write with their non-dominant hand. Perhaps they struggle to dress themselves at first and strive to remain staunchly independent and find shame in letting someone button their own trousers for them. The flush of shame that they get but the person they are pining after doesn't mind and, in fact, they like to be able to do something so personal and yet simple. I have such a guilty pleasure for those that have survived the worst odds and yet are still hobbling along and have made the best out of their mangled and chewed up bodies and then someone they care deeply for finding them beautiful and magnificent or brave and incredible as if they are a testimony to how strong and indominable or passionate and selfless that they are. I Love Love Love this sort of thing. And it's a huge weakness of mine. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[alcetryx]

I’m back to be horrible at 4am again

Astarion watching tav grow old

Tav so feeble they can’t leave bed or walk without assistance

Tav’s memories slipping, they constantly talk about how they were a mighty warrior with their friends fighting alongside them

Tav only remembering Astarion a few times a week

Astarion not wanting to face reality and thinks “surely tav will recover from this momentary forgetfulness”

Tav getting sick and teasing astarion “You take care of me a lot young man, I might think you are into older folk”

“Actually, my sweet, you’re quite young for me.”

Tav doesn’t recover and Astarion watches the love of his life slowly forget him and slowly pass away from illness.

“You survived tadpoles, broken bones, hags, our MANY misadventures. Our dhampirs. But you couldn’t survive aging. Why must you leave me? Why, after all of this time, do you decide NOW to go away from this place? OUR place. Our home. You should have loved me more than your mortality. I get to love you eternally and you aren’t here! You left me. You stupid, sad oaf. Gods. I love you. Come back to me… please.”

A note in shaky, barely legible writing on the beside table that reads:

“I did not mean to go. I did not mean to wreck you. I am tired, my love. Forgive me.

Yours forevermore,

Darling”

ugh this reminds me of that beautiful piece of fanart going around that made me ugly cry where Tav dies next to him smiling and he sits with them watching one last sunrise, waiting for it to take him. More sadness under the break -

I think about this horrible scenario a lot and it makes spawn astarion so tragic.

I think a worse version of himself could come out and start seeking desperate answers to try to extend/alter Tav's lifespan.

Want EXTRA pain? He finally finds a way to extend their lifespan but not reverse the process of the aging that's already happened. Tav is already deep in the cognitive/physical downswing - perhaps in their final months, but Astarion isn't ready to let go of his love yet.

They go on like that for years. Some days are better than others. Every time that he thinks he's made a mistake and feels an inkling of regret, Tav has a pretty good day and he's encouraged, willfully ignoring the fact that the bad days far outnumber the good. He is a selfless caretaker, he doesn't mind.

Most days Tav has no idea what's going on anymore. He thinks that maybe there's a cure for their health decline too, but even a devil won't make a bargain for such a thing, laughing in his face. Eventually he is forced to face the the consequences of his selfish decision when Tav starts having episodes where they forget who he is, but not what he is, which leads to some pretty harrowing experiences as the distressed, now elderly Tav tries to flee him in their own home. He has to keep the door locked in the daytime, afraid they'll run out and hurt themselves or go missing with no way to follow them.

One day, in a brief moment of clarity, Tav looks him in the eyes, remarkably conscious. "Please, darling. I can't live like this anymore. Please let me go."

[sweetswesf]

AfroTech & My 10 Year College Reunion

Hey, Y’all!

A few things have happened in the past few weeks I’d love to catch yall up on…

Still onboarding. Everyday I’ve been waiting for them to throw something on my plate that would catch me off guard or expose me for not being as far into the exploration as I want to be. I have been working, but I have also been getting chores done. I haven’t been working as hard as I have in the past, but I be active.

It has made me feel guilty collecting a check some weeks, especially when I know unemployed people working so damn hard right now, but I have to remind myself to stop feeling guilty, I AM onboarding, I am working, I DO deserve this, I have worked hard, and I don’t always have to be losing sleep and working 12 hours days to earn a check. They’ve reminded me time and time again that they want to bring normalcy to my onboarding and because I’m so used to toxic work environments, I have to trust that I will get there when it’s time and trust them when they say I actually am doing a good job, despite hearing that on my past team and having that narrative flip on me when my manager was on one of his tizzies.

I went to AfroTech. I didn’t have as much fun this time. It was in Houston where some family members are and I spent most of my time exploring Houston with them. That was fun. I visited the space center and learned a bit more about the selection process and training for astronauts. If I was my most confident self, I would apply, but the claustrophobia and fear of getting lost in space, freezing to death, blowing up on launch, or losing so much bone density upon return has me like yeah, nah, I’m cool…

I learned my baby cousin who’s a little less than 10 years younger than me was abused, unemployed, and identifies as trans and goes by another name now. It was his birthday that weekend so I took him mini golfing, out to lunch, dessert, and put some money in his pocket. He helps my other cousin (his aunt) in taking care of her mother (his grandmother). My family can be weird and I reminded him that he can always trust and talk to me when he wants. He felt comfortable and grateful. I felt horrible he had gone through all that hardship and I had no clue about it…I was also just more frustrated at my family for the abuse and the way they’ve been treating him in the aftermath. I give a LOT of respect to caretakers, especially young ones. They didn’t ask for that life almost often and they’re mostly so selfless, a quality I aspire to embody.

I met a dude at the conference. He was cute, but sooo young. I had to ask him why 5 minutes into the convo he hadn’t even asked me my name yet. 🙄

I went to AfroTech missing my old guy so badly, but I stayed hopeful that I would meet someone I was really interested or impressed by. It really has never happened at that conference, but I always stay open to the possibility. I also attended a few company happy hours.

Houston is nice but I never have to go back again…no shade…but at least now I know. I also want to shout out ChopnBlock which is a BOMB ASS West African restaraunt. That drank was FIRE and the food was delicious! I would have finished it all but I literally left it to go to another conference.

I met JPrince’s brother in Oakland a few weeks before. He told me to hit him up so I did and got no response. I would have loved to be a Houston rapper groupie a little bit, but that didn’t really happen. The party I went to, the music was cool, but dudes I wasn’t interested in kept talking to me when my songs came on!! I kept trying to pass the hint that I wasn’t trying to talk and just wanted to party at those moments by mouthing the words to the songs and saying “Sorry, I didn’t hear you. This is my song!” But they weren’t catching no hints.

I left the club, packed, then hopped on another plane to LA for my 10 year college reunion & homecoming. There’s a lot of people from college that didn’t like me because I was cute, had my ish together, and was confident enough to not need a clique. One classmate though, she let me stay with her last minute for Coachella maybe about 6 or 7 years ago, and didn’t mention anything about price. Almost a month if not a month or more later on Snapchat she randomly asked me to pay $400 for the stay. I told her I could give her some but not all of that. I wouldn’t do that today. I would have asked how much way ahead of saying yes AND paid a little extra if I needed to share today, but I was an opportunist back then and honestly didn’t think she paid for it herself. She also never mentioned price and she was going to have all that space and no one to split the cost with regardless because she got the place well before I even knew she was going or knew I could have stayed with her. I would have never stayed if I knew she would have asked for that much! Anyway our last convo she called me cheap. Fair. I thought she’d be there with friends ready to fight, because I know her to do that, but that didn’t happen.

Some people acted like they didn’t know me while others were so excited to see me. Including a guy friend who never wanted to accept me as just his friend. I was not attracted and thought of him as a really close friend but he really wanted to be with me. I even invited him to my baptism and 21st birthday in NY and he was there for both! I knew his family. All our friends knew he liked me. So when he got married and had a kid and never said anything to me about any of it, I was really hurt. In retrospect, he WASN’T a good friend and was just waiting to win me over. Well he came up to me, gave me a hug, said I was good to see me, etc. I had to ask to meet his wife and kid. My heart almost dropped out of my chest. I have friends with kids (some have 3 now!!) but this one hit differently…

He told me when we chatted on the side that he had been sending me texts wishing me happy birthday two years straight but to my old number. He wasn’t sure if I was just ignoring him. I felt sad about that…

Towards the end he wanted to exchange numbers and his wife yelled for him to come over. Awkward. I tried to be friendly with her later, but she wasn’t feeling it. I got a feeling she know we were close but she’s never met me so she don’t know the extent, but the silence from our group of friends when we hugged probably told her something. I don’t want him girl!!! We texted and plan to catch up in a few weeks. A convo would be cool but considering he wasn’t a good friend and he’s married now, I don’t really care to have that convo, but w/e…

Being around my old college “friends” who I’ve tried to maintain contact with but that effort wasn’t reciprocated reminded me that moving away was the best decision. Yes starting over and making friends was lonely, but I’ve grown so confident, have accomplished so much, and don’t have to worry about the same BS I used to worry about like image that they stuck in LA still worry about so much. The Bay is about what you do and where you work and LA is about what you look like and who you know. Pros & cons to both cities, but I’m grateful for the Bay for helping me ditch my image obsession. From it, I’m healthier physically and mentally and that trumps any makeup or material things.

Speaking of, praise God again that all my blood work and STD and vision tests came back normal. No pregnancy either. I feel I talked about this in a previous post, but I’m grateful to God again that I ain’t got to worry about my health and that God has mercy on me despite my past disobedience with these guys who don’t give a damn about me…

[roaringflamesyt]

The Berserk Awakens

A Heroine's soul split in two.

lore:

During a battle between Charlie's team and a mysterious individual, Charlie was hit with an even more mysterious spell that didn't seem to do anything...... at least that's what they thought.....

over the next few weeks, Charlie's team seems to notice that something isn't right. Charlie's fur becomes more grey and dark. She starts to have random bursts of fighting more violently for short instances. She even starts to slow down, lose fights more often, and even cough up blood!

Then one day, one of Morthress' henchmen knocks her down. She pukes up more blood. Morthress and his henchmen laugh. suddenly a voice, inside Charlie's head, tells her to get up and fight back. She does get up effortlessly.... as if all her pain and feeling like she was dying just left her body.... when the henchman, the one that knocked her down, turns around and taunts her, She impales him through the stomach. the henchman hits the ground. Everyone is in shock!

When Charlie snaps out of it, She realizes what she's done..... and that her worst fear has come true...... She screams out in pain and agony..... then suddenly the mysterious individual from before comes back and activates the corruption to take over..... Charlie is consumed by the flames.... moments later, Berserk bursts out of the flames and goes out on the attack! also here's the subtitles for the audio:

And here we are….

The darkness finally taking hold….. The corruption is now complete….

The final curtain call for our heroine… She will never be the same again….

what was once a hero loved by all….. a legend amongst her peers….. One who had a kind heart…… who was down to earth…..and a selfless hero who'd help those suffering… so they didn't have to suffer as she did… because of her father….

a horrible and selfish man…….

fueled by the hatred and contempt… he felt for his daughter….

He enlisted the help of an ominous and dark individual… an Individual to inflict a DEADLY corruption upon our hero…..

Within a few weeks, The corruption weakened her…… took hold of her….. made her feel like she was DYING…..

but most of all. The corruption took over her mind…..

it helped her……… helped her take the first step…….. and take her first life….. [sound of Charlie impaling a dude. hehe death] impaled with her sickle…. straight through the dead man's stomach……

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAHA

[sounds of Charlie screaming] Listen to her screams of AGONY AND PAIN……

Watch as she gets consumed by the flames….. [sounds of flames]

And burst out of them now reborn…..

[sounds of Berserk landing on the ground]

her soul now split in two…..

one half….. a goddess of rage and destruction going berserk

the other half of her soul trapped and pleading for freedom……

…..

Go forth, Berserk!!!!

Bring them all to their knees.

BURN THEM ALL STRAIGHT DOWN TO HELL

[Berserk roaring] [also cool music at the end is Beautiful is Boring by Bones UK]

[princess-of-purple-prose]

[ID: A poem that reads:

I.

The rope swings back and forth like a pendulum. Your sister said I could never tell if I thought you selfless or horribly selfish, and I loathe you either way but the voice of the rope around your neck says creak-creak-creak. You listen to neither. Instead, you focus on the sensation of slowly dimming light in the corner of your eyes. It flickers like a candle's edge, and warmth retreats from your palm as your blood rushes upwards. Hard fibers itch and scrape but do not break the skin of your neck. It is still unbruised, unblemished, and will remain until he stumbles to your corpse and heaves you into the storm like he did many years ago. 

But this story is not about him. This story is about the sound your bones make as they are wretched apart, clavicle, neck, and skull no longer conjoined.  

II.

It wells in your throat like an itch. The ice spreads and licks through your veins, and all you can think of is the childhood rhyme you sang what feels like so many years ago.  It goes like this:

Lips & necks & hips & hands,

Sister, loving you is a funeral band.

III.

As they lead her up the stairs, her footfalls land gently--so obscenely gently--like a pebble in water or a dove on a moonbeam. What she is now is what she always has been: by vocation, an angel and martyr, patron saint of I love you according to our bond, no more and no less. Queen and daughter, sister and wife come second to honesty. She stands there, silent as they prepare the noose, the knots beaded around her little neck. You try to think of anything except the smell of her head in infancy as you slept warm beside each other, but you cannot. You can feel the drummer's beat of her heart pattering away in the pulse of your hand, like you are holding a deer mouse cupped in your palms, breathing, but barely. 

The platform falls. 

Her feet don't touch the ground now. She hovers, she floats, with wings of a string from small to sky. Her breath warbles in time with your voice as you call out to her. 

You say:

Why did you do this to us all? What was this all for? Why couldn’t you have at least pretended to play the game we were all forced to play?  I’m sorry. Things were never supposed to turn out this way. But all you had to do was say something. Anything at all. 

In response, she says the only thing she knows how:

She says nothing. End ID]

the king lear triptych

[gffa]

https://c.tenor.com/sw1jtE5B4FMAAAAC/jedi-ghost.gif

the reason obi wanted luke to kill darth vader is because.Obi knew that was the only way his anakin could come back.

he always loved anakin

Obi Wan wanted to die to save Anakin.

that was Obi Wans plan in the old comics.

I read that in the 80s comics .

I am 43--I am the oldest obikin shipper on tumblr

sorry my english is bad.

this is my first day on tumblr

Hi! Welcome to tumblr! I get why you like the above idea so much, there's a lot to explore in that and some really good pining material, however you interpret their relationship! For me, though, I'm with George Lucas on Obi-Wan's motivations with what he told Luke about why not killing Vader was problematic and why:

“The mission isn’t for Luke to go out and kill his father and get rid of him.  The issue is, if he confronts his father again, he may, in defending himself, have to kill him, because his father will try to kill him.  This is the state of affairs that Yoda should refer to.” --George Lucas, The Making of Return of the Jedi It's not that Obi-Wan and Yoda were trying to get Luke to kill Vader, but that he had to be ready for the possibility that Vader would force them into that scenario by trying to kill Luke and Luke's inability to accept that possibility could have ended very badly. I don't see either side as wrong here, that Luke's faith is correct and he achieved what seemed impossible, after all the times Vader had turned away from them before. Because Vader has had many, many chances to turn back for people that love him. For me, in a lot of ways, I see Obi-Wan's view of him as strengthening the Obi-Wan & Anakin relationship in the bigger picture, that the reason Anakin could accept Luke's faith in him was because they don't know each other as deeply, that theirs was a fresh start, that their relationship wasn't about the past, that Luke could teach Anakin compassion because you give up your own wants and desires when it comes to what your child needs from you, that allowed Anakin to be selfless once again. Their relationship was ultimately about being able to finally let go because you stopped caring about what happens to you in that relationship. I don't think he could ever do that with Obi-Wan, because there was too much there. He can't return for Obi-Wan because it cuts too deeply into him, that he would have to admit that he did those horrible things, that he would always look at Obi-Wan and see Obi-Wan looking back knowing him, down to the bone. The thought terrified Anakin because it was too much for him. With Luke, it's something new, it's purely about the future, that Anakin can let go of the past because that's not what Luke represents to him. Even when Obi-Wan is part of his future, because they came back together as Force Ghosts, even when Obi-Wan is part of his present, because Obi-Wan is there and he helps Anakin over to the other side (says George Lucas), he is also Anakin's past. He will always know Anakin far more than anyone else and Anakin can only accept that once he's let go of everything for Luke. I believe that Obi-Wan thinks Anakin could come back, just that he won't. And Obi-Wan's got a lot of really good reasons for that, because he does know Anakin on a level that Luke doesn't. But that's not what Anakin needed to come back, he needed someone who only saw good in him, not someone who remembered him as the murderer of children that they'd known. I don't believe that Obi-Wan thought Anakin would come back, because their history seemed too weighted against it and everything Anakin had done for twenty years indicated that he was refusing the choice. But that's what makes the relationship dynamic so much more engaging and fruitful for me, because it's far more complicated than anything straightforward, that there's too much between them that has such a rich history and impact on both their lives, that they have shaped each other through their feelings about each other every step of their lives. All the times they hurt each other, all the painful things they've witnessed between each other, all the suffering between them, that comes from because they loved each other so much.  The fight in Revenge of the Sith on Mustafar is such an epic one precisely because they loved each other.  Vader's cruelty towards Obi-Wan is so brutal because they loved each other. Vader is obsessed with Obi-Wan throughout the post-ROTS years and into the OT because they loved each other. And that's why I like their dynamic so much, because it's not pure or simple, it's complicated and painful and thorny, it's a long history and they cannot untangle themselves from each other, they will always be entwined with each others' lives in both the good and the bad. All the bad stuff isn't a road block for them, it is their relationship, it's what keeps them connected throughout all their lives, along with all the good there, too. And sometimes that means having to let go of hope for the other person, because the relationship passes the point of something that can be carried for a Jedi, that it becomes attachment, where the fear of letting go of that person drags you down, that’s what attachment is in Star Wars and to the Jedi, the fear = attachment, because that’s exactly what Obi-Wan is doing, he’s so unable to live without his grief for Anakin that it’s destroying him.  His inability to believe that Anakin will come back isn’t just that they no longer care about each other, it’s because they’re too much to each other and that’s the angst I am here for.

[skzfelixity]

Save Me | Cha Hyunsoo [Sweet Home]

Hyunsoo x Reader

Summary: Hyunsoo is about to end it all but the thought of you stops him.

Warnings: suicide attempt, mentions of violence, self harm and depression

Hyunsoo found himself entering the first building he saw, he was tired. He was sick and tired of life. Every time he went to sleep, he wished he never woke up. He wanted to end his miserable life. He was good for nothing and always disappointed everyone around him. He just wanted to be a better person but he ended up hating himself.

He stood at the edge of the building’s rooftop, staring at the ground. If he jumped he wouldn’t be able to survive. That’s what he wanted, right? That’s what everyone wanted, right? Not you, you didn’t want him to die and he knew it. He shook the thought of you. He wouldn’t be able to do it if you stayed on his mind longer.

Instead, he reminded himself of all the times he got beaten up for literally nothing, all the times his sister was embarassed to be related to him and the fact that his parents knew what he was going through but never helped him. All these made scars in his heart, him making them visible on his arm. Every time he made another mistake or felt horrible, he would add another one. Tears flowed down his cheeks at the memories.

Why did everyone hate him? It didn’t make sense to him, maybe he was that bad of a person. But then again, you always reminded him that you were thankful he was still here and how proud you were of him. He didn’t understand why, he did nothing to make you proud of him.

He started sobbing while taking a few steps back, why are you so happy every time you hang out together? Why did you show him your brightest smiles? You couldn’t be faking it, it was too much work to do. No one cared for him so why did you? What did you see in him?

He sat on the ground, knees close to his chest. He didn’t stop crying, his sobs got louder as random happy memories of you two flashed through his mind. Like that day when you started playing games with him just because it was the only thing he was intrested in. You bringing him food once in a while, scolding him for not eating for days. The way you held him in your arms whenever he was down, sad or troubled.

He liked what he felt during these moments, they made him want to keep on living. He pulled out his phone, a few tears dropping on the black screen. Did he really deserve someone like you? You were the best thing that happened to him, you were too kind to someone like him. 

He dialed your number, placing the speaker on his ear with shaking hands. He didn’t know what came over him but he needed to hear your voice. “Hi Hyunsoo, what-”

“Save me.”

You froze for a few seconds, he sounded too calm to be in danger. “What’s the matter, Hyun?”

He bit his bottom lip to prevent more tears from falling. He didn’t like being vulnerable in front of you, “C-can you meet me?”

“Yes of couse, just tell me where you are and I’ll come find you,” immediately on your feet, you ran to the location he told you. On the roof? You got so scared, did he try to jump? You couldn’t lose him, you didn’t want to.

Your ankles hurt from running but you didn’t stop, you needed to see him as soon as possible and make sure he was okay, physically at least. You opened the door to the rooftop, not seeing him anywhere. He couldn’t have left, he called you here after all.

He waited for you to notice him on the other corner of the roof, too afraid and ashamed to call you over. When you did, your heat felt at ease again. Hyunsoo’s heart feeling the same as you run to him. You gave him a bone crushing hug, he knew he must have scared you. He wished he hadn’t, all he could do to make you feel better was hug you back.

You didn’t know how to start. Ask him how he felt? Ask him if he was about to jump? Nothing felt right to say.

“I’m sorry, I must have scared you. Are you okay?” He was the first one to speak. He was so selfless it hurt your soul. He always cared for everyone around him but never got acknowledged nor praised for it.

“Stop asking about me! You’re the one who is hurting right now, why can’t you just say it?!” You pulled away from the hug to look into his eyes, which held so much pain. He sighed, it wasn’t easy for him to talk about his feelings but he had to since he called you here.

“Why are you proud of me?” He looked down at his feet, “I haven’t done anything that can make you proud of me.”

His words hurt you. He didn’t value himself enough, not at all to be exact. You cupped his cheeks to make him look at you. “I am proud of you because you are here today. Holding on for another 24 hours is not easy and I am so thankful I get to talk to you every day.” He started tearing up again, he knew you meant what you said and it made him feel a lot better. “You don’t see it but you are actually a very good person. The world is just bad.”

You wanted to cry too, the world was so unfair to him and it hurt to witness it. Hyunsoo felt acknowlegded for once, he wanted to be a better person and you just told him you saw him as one. He could trust you and believe your words. If such a genuine person thought he was a good person then it must be true. Moments with you was what he lived for, “I love you, Y/N. I am sorry for scaring you.”

“I love you too, Hyunsoo. Thank you for making me happy,” you embarced him in a tight hug. He did make you happy, you didn’t lie to make him feel better. He was pretty fun to be around, esepcially when it came to playing video games and having deep talks.

“I make you happy?” he mumbled into your neck, putting his arms around you. Hearing it would make him believe it completely, his brain and anxiety would accept the fact that he made someone happy in this miserable world of his.

“You make me happy, Cha Hyunsoo.” You ran your fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp. He hugged you tighter, enjoying your fingers on his hair. Affection is needed from time to time and you never missed the chance to show it to him.

“Then I will continue to make you happy so stay by my side,” he whispered, too tired and relaxed to speak louder. You smiled at his words, “Forever and always.”