#goodbye I need a break

[starlitwishes]

((Why is making icons hell?!?!?! I only just now finished going through the fanart for Evan and Venti!!! Now I have to do that all over again for Scaramouche/Kabukimono/Wanderer!!!! Ahhhh!!!!))

[pharawee]

—Don't fall out of love with me. —I promise.

[buggitino]

more headcanons about sebastian solace from the hit game pressure roblox

back on my bullshit and i promise i only talk about The Situation a little bit

☆ his third arm is more sensitive than the other two (i'm thinking that either the USHD doctors fucked something up during the operation OR it grew in wrong, nerve endings closer to the epidermis and whatnot, something like that)

☆ just hates being touched in general, he’d rather initiate that contact (need an update where he gently —> not very gently shakes expendables off (depending on whether and how much they’ve annoyed/flashbanged him) when they climb him) ☆☆ part of this is due to trauma, he cant trust anyone to touch him without hurting him ☆☆ the other part is that he’s got that fucking dawg in him (i’ll get to this in a second)

☆ unlike what his new voice lines are starting to suggest about his character (i’m not gonna talk about zerum again because i think everyone knows what's happening at this point and ive already thrown in my two cents) he does NOT hate the expendables. literally his first line upon meeting him in his shop has him calling himself your friend (as strained of a connection as it may be, he could very easily not offer items, not share documentation/info, and just take the expendables data and hoard anything he picks up to make it harder for them to get to the crystal) (like yes, it's a mutually beneficial relationship but if sebastian didn't care about or sympathize with the expendables to some extent, it wouldn't be). i really do think he just has a short fuse (i'm not going to bring up trauma again, however-) and says things he doesn't mean (e.g. “they deserved it. and frankly so do the rest of you.” (im coping with the mischaracterization of these new lines leave me alone)) as a means of protecting himself and pushing the expendables further away (both physically and emotionally)

☆ he’ll act like a brat once they’re done, but he lets younger expendables sleep in his shop (he cares about them but would never in a million years let them know that) ☆☆ if a younger one comes in with a bunch of adult expendables, he’ll treat them all the same but will secretly slip the younger one some extra batteries, gauze, something unnoticeable (he feels especially responsible for the younger male expendables cause they remind him of his little brother)

☆ sometimes he thinks he can hear his family's voices on the radio, just under all the static, calling out for him like a search party would. he used to cry over this but he almost got caught once by an expendable coming into the shop so he does his best to tune it out. it’s hard. guilt pulls at his stomach every time he hears a clip of his family, begging for him to come home, to respond, something, anything, and he ignores it.

☆ autism (cause i said so) - i'm including this one for the sole reason that he does the dinosaur thing with his third arm and generally keeps his hands clasped together in the secret dinosaur position (he just like me fr) ☆☆ hates bright lights (the only light he uses/allows in his shop is the one he emits) (its a very soft/warm hue as opposed to the bright fluorescents throughout the rest of the facility) (not to bring up the flash beacon, obviously nobody likes getting flashbanged and he's got angler eyes but sTILL)

☆ he used to hate eating fish (pre-op) and now he’s pissed cause it’s all he has available and the DNA changes made it so fish is the yummiest tastiest thing in the world (i like imagining him actively fighting the urge to eat whatever fish he’s cooked in one bite cause he refuses to acknowledge that he's changed on a level that isn't physical/appearance-based)

☆ calls grown adults “kiddo” (even the ones that are older than him) ☆☆ he gets a certain kind of joy from seeing the 40/50/60 year old expendables try to figure out just how old he is after they get called “kiddo”. it’s extra fun for him when they’ve clearly already heard the rumors and/or gotten a glimpse of his file

☆ the ring is just an accessory, a bracelet on the floor or in a locker he found and liked. assumed nobody was gonna claim it and kept it (shoutout to @/lotus.eaterr on tik tok for this one!!!!)

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[hellomagicalsouls]

who gave Robert Sheehan the right to look that broken. I'm watching the bus scene again cause I hate myself rn and now it's just his lip quiver

i literally, seriously, honestly cannot watch that scene again. he just looks so broken and torn inside and everyone just ignoring him as he's on the floor

stop im gonna cry. won't include a picture to save you the heartbreak

poor Klaus man I just want him to be okay. love u

[quietwingsinthesky]

of ten’s companions, if the doctor couldn’t handle losing them and crossed his own timeline to trick them into traveling with future!him instead of past!him so that he’d have a little more time with them:

rose would do it. first because bless her but she has the situational awareness of a rock, and legitimately would not realize this isn’t her doctor until his facade starts to break down and he starts bleeding grief-laced love for her at every turn. but once she does realize it, she’s both deeply sympathetic and a little scared that she could make him into this. it’s a lot to be confronted with having that much power over someone, to break them so thoroughly. rose would try to get back to her doctor, but while she’s with the future version, she tries to do what she can to ease his pain. (she also tries to figure out a way to subvert her fate. she fails.)

i think martha would be harder to trick. she can smell desperation on the doctor like a bloodhound. she is so tapped into the fact that this man wants to off himself so bad and that she’s 90% of his self-restraint, so present her with a doctor who is lacking that and she’s onto him immediately. however, assuming he gets her to come with him, explains why he’s doing this, there’s like. a minute where she’s kind of. not flattered exactly, but surprised, giddy with the realization that he’d come back for a little more time with her, especially if this is early season 3 martha. which would all come crashing down around the time that he reveals that he wasn’t pushed to this by losing her to some tragedy or her death or anything- but that she chose to leave. that is the point at which martha goes ‘oh i need to get the fuck off of this tardis right now’ and ghosts the past!doctor that she was also traveling with because holy shit, man.

donna, like rose, is easily bamboozled into following the wrong doctor home, provided that he shuffles her along into his tardis too fast for her to argue. but she catches on far quicker than rose does. like, three minutes tops of watching the doctor move through the tardis in a way that’s definitely not enthusiastic piloting and looks more like guilty panic. and then she yells at him for lying to her. and she yells at him for kidnapping her. and then she stops yelling because he’s gone sort of still and quiet and his eyes are just broken. and he doesn’t explain himself, he confesses. donna is going to try to stay with him after this btw. because how do you go back to looking your best friend in the eyes when you know he’d take everything you’ve become away from you, even to save your life? and this is still the doctor, he still did that to her, but he regrets it. regrets it so much that he can’t live with it, he’s breaking time and space just to hear her say his name again. and donna doesn’t want to lose him anymore than he wanted to lose her.

[pastelpousay]

BYE THIS IS SO UGLY 💀

My goofy ahh art!!

Edit I forced my friend kindly made for me 🥺

HELP THE PIC STILL HAS ME LAUGHING HELP ME LOVE YOU POOKIE IK YOU SAID YOU DIDNT WANN BE CREDITED FOR THIS BS SO 😭💀 YEA HELP LMAAOO HELP HADES LOOKS SO DEVIOUS

Art taglist: do yall really wanna be @‘d for this bs 💀😭 oh well 🐺

@re3tro0 (hi 🐺) @delicatestringbean @persephoneflowerpetals @maddieinheaven @optizcool @dreamwinged

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Augusnippets Day 22: Tearful Goodbye

cw: past torture, captivity

previous // Riot Kings AU Masterlist //

for the @augusnippets challenge // word count: 581

=~=~=

They cuffed his hands in front of him when he asked, and it's honestly more than Dan hoped for. He has five minutes alone, the pair of guards that will escort him to Mainfleet barricading the medbay door to prevent him from running.

He won't. He can't.

Wes has drifted in and out of consciousness for the past week; Swift had seen him to the brink of death, but he's held on. It shows on both counts. Bandages or bruises cover most of his skin, and one of the medics had shaved off his matted hair to get at some nasty head wounds.

That last bit may be the most gut-wrenching. Wes has had his hair dyed since they joined the Riot Kings; he's always taken care of it, always taken the time to re-color it when the brown started to creep through. The loss of it makes him look hollow somehow. Less alive.

Dan feels about as empty as Wes looks. The only reason he's on his feet at all is because he needs to be, because if he would've given in to the pain and exhaustion both of them would be doomed. He hasn't allowed himself a second to process much of anything yet. What he escaped, what he's resigned to, what he's left with.

Five minutes.

He's putting this off. If he thinks about it, he’s afraid he'll break down, have to be dragged away weeping. Dan tries to swallow the lump in his throat, and moves to the bed, cupping Wes’s cheek with a chained hand.

“Hey.”

When Wes’s eyes open, there's a clarity there, and Dan is glad. He doesn't think he could do this if Wes were locked in delirium. He reaches up to lay a hand over Dan’s.

“Hey,” he croaks, then frowns. “Wh’s wrong?”

They haven't been left alone together since day one, always a guard or a medic, or both. Or maybe Wes just sees it on his face.

“I'm..” He swallows again. The lump won't go away. “They're taking me today. “ I don't know if I'll see you again.

“What? Where?”

He's not going to sugarcoat it. “Prison, probably.” But he's not above lying. “I'll be okay.”

“Dan… th-they can't—”

“I don't have a choice.” He won't fight, won't run. He'll comply to the best of his ability. He squeezes Wes's hand, silent for a moment. “They're sending you home.”

“They're… no, Dan—”

“You'll be safe. I've been talking to the captain. As long as I comply—”

“Why would you—?”

“This is the only way.” If Wes is sent to prison, he will die. On Arrow, he'll be free. Monitored, but taken care of. 

One of the guards raps on the door, and a pang runs through him. Not now, not yet, don't—

His eyes sting, and he hurries to wipe away any tears. “It's time. I have to go.”

“Please. Please, Danny, please don't do this.” His fingers curl around Dan's, refusing to let him go.

“Promise me you'll stay out of trouble,” he says, like he's only going away for a little while, like he'll be right back.

He won't. He'll never…

The guard knocks again, but Dan ignores it, bending over the bed to embrace Wes, trying not to hold him too tight as the other man sobs into his shoulder.

“I'm sorry,” he breathes against Wes's ear. “I'm sorry.”

“Please don't die. Please… I need you to come back.”

“I will. I promise.”

He's not above lying.

[belly-bits]

Rather than immediately delving back into the Underdark I’m picturing a spawn romanced Astarion ending with the handful of companions who have nowhere else to go start traveling together again.

First to Waterdeep, to make sure Gale’s home is still in one piece and that his mother is safe. But after that I can see Shadowheart, Gale, Tav, and Astarion sticking out to try and find a way for Astarion to walk in the sun again.

Traveling up as north as they can get, chasing the seasons and falling in love with winter and it’s long nights with short days. Maybe even somewhere up in Damara, above the Moonsea and Cormathor, where Glaciers start to form and months can pass without the sun peaking above the horizon.

It would be a semipermanent twilight, little to no direct sunlight for over half the year so close to the Pole. It helps that Astarion looks so nice in winter furs. When winter finally comes back to the Sword coast they move camp again closer to Baldurs Gate to visit Jahiera and her kids.

They’re able to travel back into what used to be the shadowlands now slowly blooming with Thaniels help. It’s the first time either Tav or Astarion see Halsin since the Druid broke off their tentative relationship and left when they stopped the apocalypse.

I can see the remaining party searching for purpose, searching for freedom, and moving with the cold caress of winter to herald them wherever they land to set camp for a season. There’s so much potential and I think trying to settle down would only lead to stagnation.

[dirtytransmasc]

I hope we get a scene of Alicent with Aegon's body. If her son is damned to die, if she is damned to spiral into insanity, if she is to lose her life too the grief, let me see her with his body.

let her hold her baby in her arms one more time. let her wipe the blood that poured from his mouth and nose as he died. let her run her fingers over the viscous burns that adorn his skin. let her fix his hair. let her bathe him with a cloth as she had when he was a babe. let her kiss his cheek, his forehead, his hair, his hands. let her lay her head against him, hugging him like she had failed to do for years.

he was her firstborn and yet, her heart was still beating and his was not, she was not yet cold in her grave, no, no her son was cold, her flesh was warm, too warm. he was her baby, her son, the boy she tried so hard to protect, who had loved even when it hurt, who she had stood in front of a dragon for. she loved him, the very bones of him, and now he was dead.

let her lose her mind right there, in that room, still clinging to her body, one that's too cold, too still, too quiet. let her scream out to the gods, damning them, cursing them for taking her eldest son, amongst everything else in her life.

I want her to drive away anyone who tries to take him from her, forcing the silent sisters or whoever would be left to deal with his body at that point. let her curse and spit and claw at anyone who comes too close.

she would stay there for hours, reflecting on her memories of him. maybe she talks to him or hums a lullaby until she finally loses her battle with what remains of her consciousness and sanity, falling still against the table.

she dreams of Aegon, she dreams of the life she wish she could have provided, the life she had tried so hard to give him. a life where he was safe, a life where she had been a better mother, a life where she didn't need to live in and impose fear up on her children. maybe if she had tried hard enough he would still be alive, she'll think as she floats in the space between consciousness and unconsciousness.

she'll wake in plain chambers she only partly recognizes, she'll learn of her sons lackluster and sparsly accompanied burning, she'll learn her son was gone and she was alone. there won't be much of her left to care. she just continues dreaming, dreaming of her dead children and spiraling to madness until her broken heart finally gives out.

[my previous post inspired this, cause all I can think about now is Alicent mourning her son and its gonna put me in an early grave]

[springs-hurts]

how do you balance it then? Magic and might. One person who's most powerful sorcerer to walk on the earth and the other who is The best warrior and a powerful king.

The prophecy was about Arthur, you can't deny it. Merlin was part of the prophecy, yes, but essentially it's Arthur who'll bring magic back, it's Arthur who's supposed to unite the whole Albion and become her High king. Merlin was supposed to protect him and help him reach that goal.

How it works then? I don't know if I'm making any sense because fuck if that whole fucking show made any sense. Cause, like baby I love you buf wtf you were trying to cook? The whole thing was a disaster recipe. The one person who's supposed to be a prophesied figure, who's supposed to bring magic back and all that.. That man isn't aware of his own destiny, like how fucked up is that?

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

I didn't write at all over the weekend. I didn't even look at my wips and it actually felt good. It felt good not stress over whether or not I was writing fast enough or if what I was writing was good enough. I didn't have the feeling like I was wasting my time.

I feel guilty for feeling that way though. Writing is such a huge part of who I am but recently it's been a part of me that's been causing more harm than good. It's stopped being fun.

I don't think I'll ever stop writing and posting here for that matter, but I think I need to take a real, proper break.

I'm not going to write for the rest of this month. I'm not entirely sure if I'll write next month (except for school work unfortunately) but I'll cross that bridge when I get there.

I've burnt myself out trying to live up to impossible expectations set by myself and it's ruined something that I love. I know it'll be a disappointment to a lot of you, I completely get it, and I hope you can forgive me. I just can't do it anymore right now.

I'll probably still be around on tumblr, I'll end up reblogging a shit ton of stuff and maybe I'll post something occasionally but it won't be any wips or drabbles or anything like that.

Thank you to my followers, I love you guys and thank you for being so patient with me.

Thank you to my mutuals. I love you guys so much you guys really help me when I need it and I cannot express the gratitude that I have for each and every one of you.

Writing will have to continue another day

[k-ky]

muack

[hechose]

how do you need to be touched?

gently.

you need to be held as though you're going to break. you need someone to trace your scars like cracks in a wall, crumbling. their touch is almost painful; you've been without it for too long, without someone to hold you. but, you cannot bring yourself to pull away.

TAGGED BY: @operahouses TAGGING: literally anyone that sees this & hasn't done it <33

[mathsbian]

God I need friends…

[songsforthedeaf2002]

it's me and my 48 year old french rym mutual against the world