#grieving and moping together

[trashpocket]

platonic!stobin and what if: steve died in s3 and became a ghost to haunt robbie (and eddie can sometimes see n hear him too)

[one-strugling-bean]

No but ure so right

Thinking abt Hater n Peeps...

thinking about how they probably started out as friends with similar interests. Two losers with a damaged heart and a need to feel respected (and loved) meet and decide to conquer the world that wronged them before together

Thinking how at first they probably saw each other as more of a means to an end: ill make him do all the boring paperwork stuff while I actually conquer everything vs ill let him believe he's the number one and show his face while I pull the strings from behind type of shit. but eventually grew to appreciate each other's company, found interests in common, and went through shit that forced them to grow closer

(especially since they were probably each other's first friend. I imagine the giddiness over finding someone you just click with was even greater between these two at the start)

thinking bout how much hater must have soaked in and appreciated peeps praise from the start. Peepers being the 1st person to have ever called him cool. to support his dreams. even if hater hides it under a "sure you can tag along, if you do everything I say" kind of facade, he actually becomes super addicted to (and dependent on) peeps right from the get-go

Thinking bout how peepers must have been the opposite. He sees the potential hater has from the start, but for all the praise and admiration to become more than a way of manipulation it takes a bit. Still, it's only a small matter of time before peeps drowns in all the charisma and power being with hater brings. besides, he's found in Hater companionship the likes of he'd never felt before with anyone.

When he decides to make Hater the nº1 villain in all the galaxy, he knows he's sealing his fate - but he doesn't regret it one bit.

They essentially become best friends (also 1st and only friends), even if they never properly talk about it because ew feelings, and they're supposed to be villains, and villains aren't "friends". but they still see each other as friends and act accordingly

but then their pipe dream actually starts looking like it could work, and what before sounded like a make-belief game the two played with each other while they travelled the galaxy together, starts looking like a reality

They are ecstatic. they buy a customized ship. peepers convinces his people to fight for their cause and suddenly they have an army as well! hater steadily learns how to behave like a terrifying overlord instead of an edgy teen, and suddenly their fame is spreading everywhere!

they're unstoppable! hater is on his way to becoming the biggest threat to the galaxy and peepers is the 2nd in command that made it all happen! everything is perfect!

then, hater hurts peepers with his powers for the first time and things are... different.

They're both shocked that 1st time. hater has hurt many people by that point, but he never lost control on someone close to him. even if he was upset... peepers is also shocked because by that point he trusted hater with his life. he saw himself as a valuable part of their team - their partnership, and it felt like a betrayal. to both of them actually

but they don't talk about it, just like they never talked about whether they were friends before, so separately, they start making excuses. Hater is the leader - the Villain! Of course he shouldn't spare anyone! And Peepers is just an assistant, if he makes a mistake, of course he should be punished! they were always using each other for their own goals. there can't exist a betrayal of something that never existed, right?

and slowly, these excuses become the reality. hater hurting peepers physically and verbally becomes the norm, and perhaps in an unconscious bout of retaliation, peepers becomes hater's biggest critic, just as he is his biggest fan. He's the first to point out hater's flaws and mistakes (under whats acceptable of him) knowing exactly where to press on his insecurities to make it hurt more

they stop hanging out informally as much because "they're not friends it's just a mutual partnership". they still do hang out sometimes, because they're still lonely and have no other friends but its less... carefree

time passes and the empire grows. the more it does, the more they fall into their make-believe roles - the evil villain and his assistant. hater becomes crueler, peepers becomes more obsessed with his work (and crueler) and slowly they lose that spark that started them out in the 1st place

Then wander and sylvia come around and the make-belief starts to crack.

things start getting out of control. Hater's cruelty doesn't kill the enemies. peepers work isn't efficient enough. the two are once more thrown into unlikely situations together that force them to be closer, and the occasional chaos breaks the carefully crafted characters they'd built over themselves for so long.

they start being seen as jokes again. the empire is losing its edge and so are they. all the while, they start losing that shadow of subordination that had been controlling their relationship for so long

but many wounds and misunderstandings have been piling up for years, and there's only so much "casually hanging out with my friend-turned-toxic workplace relationship-turned-sorta friend again" they can do before something gives

and by the end of season 2, hater's fate seems inevitable - he'll let go of villainy sooner or later. but what about peepers? the other half of the same pipe dream, the other half of the same messy relationship.

Was he gonna be able to let go of it too? What was going to weigh heavier in the end? The fractured friendship? or the pipe dream?

were they meant to be able to solve their issues and regain that initial connection that drove them to conquer the stars together in the first place? Or just... break apart, for good.

...god i rly want a season 3

[alexlwrites]

𝑭𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where everytime you get dumped you pretend that you never met the guy before to mess with their heads. To the point that if you run into them somewhere you reintroduce yourself and act like you’ve never seen each other before.

Enters fuckboy Jungkook who disappears after your night together, not knowing how much he was about to regret that choice.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I’m truly sorry for this sad excuse of an update.

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨 - 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐲, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬

(<<< part one)

“I can’t believe you’re doing this again” Jane’s voice rang through the phone as you walked down the streets towards your desired coffee spot.

You also couldn’t believe you were doing that again. You tried your best to live your life with no regrets, but men made it very hard.

“Have you seen him since he fled the crime scene?”

“Stop calling it a crime scene” you snapped.

“Well, have you?”

Your silence was enough of an answer. No, you had not seen or heard from Jungkook since he ran away from your bedroom in the dead of night, leaving behind only the smell of cologne and, funnily enough, a single sock. When you woke up that day to an empty bed, sheets crumbled and a mattress indented on the side where he had slept, all you could muster was a tired sigh of disappointment. 

And to be completely honest, you were disappointed with yourself, not Jungkook. You expected nothing less than a quick escape of him. But you should’ve known better than to hope for anything. Despite everything, you were still an idealist at heart and you thought that maybe just this once…

You shook your head obstinately. You had learned early on that no good would come from moping around for men who would never once feel any regret for their thoughtless actions and if your pain were to be always one sided, then it was better not to feel any at all. Not to dwell on it, move on, learn from it and be better. Or be worse, sometimes, as self-improvement was not always your goal.

Sometimes, you chose to listen to the tiny revengeful angel on your shoulder - who kind of sounded like Taylor Swift - that screamed for violence and vindication.

As your failed relationships started to pile up, you did reach a point where you had to wonder if you were the problem, as it was the canonical event of all 20 something women. But observation, therapy, critical thinking and hereditary pettiness brought you to the decision that it was not, in fact, your fault. At least not all of it. 

With that in mind, you left only the smallest of time slots in your booked and busy schedule to ponder and grieve over the fickle nature of boys’ interests. You had better, more important things to do, such as mindlessly scroll through Minecraft/AITA videos and save pilates routines that you were never gonna do. 

Still, in an experience intrinsically feminine, you allowed yourself a little treat to cope with the slight burn of despondency in the back of your mind. 

And so you directed yourself to the bougie coffee house near campus, hoping to drown your sorrows with an aggressively sweet and overly caffeinated drink. 

“You should slash his tires”

“Jane, please, we have talked about this.”

“You should totally slash his fucking tires!"

"Saying it louder is not gonna make me agree with you! Jane…"

Suddenly your eyes found Jungkook's across the room filled to the brim with depressed, financially irresponsible students, making you pause and hold back the urge to curl your lips in distaste. It bothered you that even with scared eyes as big as saucers and hunched shoulders to appear smaller, Jungkook still managed to look good. 

But you knew better than to let him know how much his presence and pretty face annoyed you. Boys like Jungkook only cared about having an impact on people’s life, very rarely caring if it was good or bad. He wanted a reaction out of you and you learned better than to give those away so carelessly.

So you frowned and looked away, the words practiced on your lips as you said “Some guy is staring at me.”

Jane laughed loudly on the phone “You’re a psycho, you know that?”

“I don’t know who it is, Jane, some dude” you stole a quick glance at him, finding vengeful glee at his shocked expression.

“Send me a pic of his reaction, I’m posting it on TikTok.”

You continued playing your part, ignoring your sister’s interruptions as you usually did “Of course I’m carrying a taser, Jane, I’m not an animal…”

“I’ll give you 5 bucks to tase him.”

“You know what, this coffee is not even worth the visual harassment, God I hate men…”

You walked out of the coffee house, hand empty but with a fulfilled sick sense of accomplishment as you stepped out into the street with a shit-eating grin.

“I hope you know what you’re doing” Jane said and you could hear the smile in her voice. Out of your two sisters, Jane was never the one to tell you to not do something, preferring to let you make your own mistakes.

And boy, did you. 

You left your big, beautiful, tattooed mistake behind you, ready to move on to something less prone to disappointment, such as fictional men and your Stardew Valley husband “Dont worry” you told your sister “I don’t.”.

—

“What are you doing?” Jungkook asked, left eye twitching slightly at your unbothered expression.

After your confusing exit from the coffee shop and a good amount of jabs from his friends, Jungkook had to hunt you down across campus, finding you sitting under a tree with a book in your hands, looking way too peaceful for someone who just had humiliated him.

You looked down at your book with an arched eyebrow “Kegels, clearly. Why?”

“No, I mean…” Jungkook’s frustration was rising by the second, the vein on his neck jumping out “Why are you acting like you don’t know me?”

You frowned.

 “Do I know you?” you asked, face doubtful.

“We have classes together?”

You blinked, impassive.

“We went on a date?”

A head shake.

“We slept together!”

“Nope, can’t say it rings any bells.”

That’s it. Jungkook was actually convinced you were clinically insane. 

“How can you not remember?”

“How can I remember something that never happened?”

“But it did! You’re crazy! I chased you for weeks!”

You smiled, a trap.

“So, you're, like, in love with me?” you ask, tone condescending. 

Jungkook scoffed and you weren’t sure if it was at the idea of love or loving you. “No, of course not.”

“So in this dream scenario of yours, we had sex but we weren’t together?”

“Trust me, this” he gestured between the two of you “is no dream scenario.”

“Well, aren’t you a charmer” you crossed your arms in front you, defensive “Let me get this straight. You, allegedly, chased me for weeks, but don’t really like me. Then, we had casual, out-of-relationship sex and then what? You banged my head against the headboard so hard I completely forgot about it? Your story is full of holes, my dude.”

You had to fight back the urge to smirk, energy spiking from feeding off of Jungkook’s stupefied confusion.

Nail in the coffin, you shrugged, turning your eyes back to your book “Maybe you weren’t that memorable and my mind deleted you like a childhood trauma.”

A slight left eye spasm was all the reaction you got at first, evolving to the pursing of pouty lips and the clenching of fists.

“You are insane” he said at last after seconds of turning clogs in his barely filled mind.

“Finally you said something true.”

Jungkook was equally bewildered and furious. He didn’t know what your deal was or what you were getting out of this, but your refusal to admit you had sex pissed him off deeply considering how much time and effort he put into getting you together.

“Also, I have to ask” you continued, clearly not done with your pursuit of driving him up the wall “what was your goal with this conversation? Chasing me for weeks to then sleep with me and then come here and tell me you’re not actually interested in me, but being upset when I don’t remember something that didn’t happen… What’s the point?”

Jungkook paused. Truly, he didn’t have much of an end goal in mind, actions fueled only by a bruised ego and a childish, borderline pathological need to prove himself.

When he didn’t answer, you stood up and gathered your things, keeping your head down to hide your poorly concealed satisfaction “I’ll let you ponder on that” you said “Don’t worry about reaching out with an answer, though.”

Finally, you looked up at him, face masked with faux awkwardness. “Anyway. Nice to meet you, I guess? No, actually, not really, this was weird as shit. You seem to have some things to figure out. Get help and take care, my dude.”

And so you left, leaving behind only a cloud of your bergamot perfume and a perplexed Jungkook blinking owlishly. 

There was a sudden influx of thoughts rushing through his usually much less busy mind, the general tone of confusion ringing amongst humiliation and frustration.

When Jungkook first set his greedy eyes on you, he had an inkling that you’d be a handful and in the beginning, you truly were. You took pleasure in making everything much more difficult for him, running from his presence like the plague and approaching the whole subject of him like one would the subject of warts - reluctantly and with caution.

And if he were honest, he wasn’t too sure on why he insisted, but one would be surprised at how far Jungkook would escalate things out of spite and resentment.

It was that same sick combination of flavors that drove him insane for weeks, moving him to pester you until you gave him a chance. And he took it, lord, did he take it.

That night, he made every possible effort to please you, cloaked in his best, non-ranch stained clothes and best non-arrogant behavior.

And when morning came and he opened up his eyes before you did, tired out from the epitome of his bestest behavior, there was a moment of quiet as he watched you eyelids flutter delicately, soft arm draped lightly over his waist.

The night before had been… Fun, he thought, even before you had reached your bedroom. You were weird and used a bunch of words he didn’t know, but you also made him laugh and listened to him babbling about his interest without once looking bored, even going as far as asking questions about his farfetched MCU theories.

And despite your many (too many to count, insurmountable really) differences, you had… Chemistry, one could call it. Thick chemistry, palpable tension, pushing you towards each other despite your previous attempts to go the other way.

But no amount of chemistry could break Jungkook’s routine as inertia pushed him out of your bed, practiced steps light as feathers as he escaped your apartment with one last look to your sleeping form and somehow one less sock on his feet.

And as he left, there was an undiagnosed pounding in his heart he tried to chalk off as the result of his Dorito and monster drink based diet, but his eyes kept flashing back to where you rested even when he was miles away.

He tried to make sense of your persistent presence in the back of his mind. You were cool, he’d give you that. Hot too. But it didn’t matter how your body fit his like they were manufactured together or how your passive aggressive way of flirting (or insulting, he had a hard time telling them apart with you) never failed to steal a snort from his lips. And yeah, it was kind of nice when you called him cute everytime he didn’t understand something you said. It brought a blush to his cheeks and wild butterflies to his stomach, because… Well, no one had ever called him cute after middle school. Hot? Yes. Sexy? Once a week. Biggest dick ever? Yes, both meanings.

But not cute. And deep down, under layers of aggressively oversized shirts and muscles… Jungkook kind of liked being cute.

Jungkook shook that thought away. Despite all that, you were a point he had to make.

And he did! Point proven and undisputed, up until you looked at him like he was a silly little kid throwing a tantrum (which he kind of was) and questioned him and his sanity,

But Jungkook was obstinate and, even more, the sorest of losers. He had proven himself once and would again! He was a man on a mission, he decided, watching you walk away from him while mouthing the words “I’ll pray for you!”. And the mission was to either send you into a psychiatric hospital or get you back into his bed.

And if the butterflies in his stomach fluttered excitedly at that second prospect, he didn’t allow himself to ponder on it for a single second.

°•. ✿ .•°

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[lovielied]

mine, all mine ♡ toji fushiguro x reader

୨ summary ୧ : three weeks after a messy breakup with your ex-boyfriend, toji fushiguro, you decide to go out in hopes of finding someone new. as if he'd let it be that easy.

** this was initially posted on my ao3, lovelied. **

wc: 3.4k

It’d been just shy of three weeks since you’d broken up with your ex-boyfriend, Toji Fushiguro. As you’d told your friends time and time again, it’d be easier to list what he’d done right as opposed to what he’d done wrong. If you were to go on about how much of a deadbeat asshole he was, you wouldn’t be finished for hours. 

Despite the fact that he was flakey and overall a bad person, you weren’t the type to refrain from giving credit where it was due. After all, there were a few things that were good about him.

Well, one thing— his dick, if you were to be blunt.

Even you had to admit that it would be hard to compare to him in that regard while exploring the dating pool. He knew how to use it, and he was certainly aware of that fact. You weren’t a good girl by any means, yet you had your dignity. No matter how good his dick was, you refused to let him laze around and expect you to take care of everything in the relationship. 

So, you left. 

Toji didn’t put up most of a fight, in fact he seemed almost amused that you’d suggest such a thing in the first place. But you were serious, and he’d soon realize that when he returned to your apartment the next morning to see messily stuffed bags of his personal belongings strewn along the porch. 

To your dismay, the first few days without him were actually difficult to get through. You missed him more than you’d care to admit, though you’d profusely deny that fact to your concerned friends. You had found yourself in a depressive episode, flaking on plans and hardly ever leaving the confines of your bedroom.

He was an asshole, but there were times when his presence had been comforting to you. You would never admit it, but you missed the feeling of being cradled in his strong arms while you fell asleep against his chest, or the teasing grin that would tug on his lips before he’d kiss you. You missed the way his cologne smelled, the way he fit perfectly on your couch when he stretched. 

And, perhaps most of all, you missed how expertly he would fuck you. 

Toji probably knew your body better than you did. He’d make you cum every time without fail, working you perfectly no matter what he was using— his hands, his mouth, his cock, even one of his (far too many) toys that he’d purchased solely with you in mind. You’d scolded him more times than you could count about the fact that he’d blow an entire paycheck on dildos and vibrators, despite the extent of his already existing collection.

Not that he cared, of course. He easily silenced your protests when it came time to put them to use. 

In the weeks following your breakup, you found yourself missing his body more than you did him. Was it selfish? Absolutely. But he hadn’t necessarily been any better of a person even when you were together. It wasn’t like you wanted to miss him, either. 

But during nights when you were alone in your bed, desperately chasing relief with your fingers even though you knew Toji would have brought you there within seconds— what were you to do but miss him?

It wasn’t really your fault.

After nearly 3 weeks of moping around, you decided that he wasn’t worth the heartache. Why should you stay inside and grieve what could have been? Determined to start getting over him, you’d decided to go out for drinks after work on Friday evening.

When it came time to actually follow up with this decision, however, you had a few reservations. It wasn't going to make you feel any better about what happened, you figured. 

Nevertheless, you argued with yourself to the point that you had practically forced yourself into going.

Squeezing into the skimpiest dress you could find, you dragged yourself to a quaint, sleazy bar on the corner of the street. It was the only bar you knew of, and most likely the only one in town. You hadn’t been inside since long before you had begun to date Toji, and your memories of the place were fuzzy. All you remembered was that your roommate in college spoke highly of it, and apparently it had been good enough to get you both drunk that night.

Not like that’d take much effort, of course.

The smell of alcohol and sweat slammed into you like a brick as soon as you stepped inside. Immediately, you began to regret even considering the idea to leave your apartment, but you couldn’t find it within you to turn around and make the walk of shame back to your battered mustang. 

For the first few hours, it wasn’t too bad. You adjusted to the smell quite quickly, and loosened up once you got a few drinks in. You’d even managed to catch the attention of one of the patrons, a decent looking man with a nice smile. He offered to pay for your next round, so it wasn’t hard to make small talk and enjoy the company he provided. Apart from a few short calls from your friends throughout the weeks, he was the first person you’d spoken to since the breakup. 

As the night stretched well past the midnight mark, you began to notice the bar getting more lively. An increase of people were coming and going, the music was growing louder, the lights dimmer. The ambiance of the place had changed drastically since you’d arrived earlier that evening.

However, you were comfortable enough with the man you’d met, finding it easier and less overstimulating to focus on him and not the people around you. He made good conversation, you’d realize— his ability to make you laugh so easily was almost relieving, especially so when your laughter had been so persistent that it generated the urge for you to use the restroom.

You excused yourself apologetically from him before slipping past a large group of people, navigating the crowded room until you found the bathroom.

It was unisex, you noticed. Stupid idea for a bar, you thought to yourself before pressing open one of the double doors. By the time you've taken four steps into the bathroom, you freeze in your tracks.

No fucking way.

An all too familiar chuckle fills the small space of the restroom as you swivel on your heel to turn around, yet before you’re able to reach back up for the door, a large palm is wrapped around the base of your wrist, tugging you back inside.

“Well, well.” Toji purrs, his grip on you only seeming to get tighter as he grins down at you with amusement. 

“Let go, Toji.” you huff, refusing to even look him in the eyes. You knew you shouldn’t have left your stupid apartment! 

“Why?” he drawls, snaking his hand further up your arm as he cocks his head. “So you can get back to your new boy toy out there?” 

“Bingo.” The syllables are dripping with sarcasm, your face just as unamused. 

“Not gonna happen. Been meaning to talk to you, anyway.” 

You have to force yourself not to groan, a roll of your eyes emphasizing your annoyance as you attempt to tug your arm out of his grasp— to no avail, of course. “Not interested.”

“Sure you are.” he taunts with a smirk.

“I’m not, I assure you.”

He cocks his eyebrow and releases your arm, folding his own arms over his chest as he takes a step back from you. His eyes sweep over your frame, and the hunger that’s visible within them makes you squirm. 

After a minute of agonizing silence, he clears his throat expectantly. “For someone who isn’t interested, you’re hanging around an awfully long time, aren’t you?” 

You feel your face heat up, shooting a half-hearted glare at him. “Just talk, asshole.” 

Pleased that he’d called your bluff, he chuckles heartily, leaning casually against the bathroom wall. “That’s what I thought.”

“You don’t even like alcohol. Why are you here?” you spat at him, still refraining from looking him in the eyes.

“Figured you’d show up around this hellhole eventually.”

“You’re fucking crazy.”

“Didn’t have much of a choice, did I? Someone decided to dodge all my calls.” he points out, tapping the prominent muscle of his arm idly. 

“Blocked you, actually.” you clarify with a mumble. 

He runs a hand through his hair with a worn sigh, giving you a look of annoyance as it falls down to his hip. “Quit being difficult, will you?”

“You know a lot about that, I bet.” you retort, refusing to let him get the satisfaction of talking down at you.

You were frustrated that he was here in the first place, but even more so that he had apparently been here every day waiting for you to come. There were certainly downsides to living in a small town where every recreational spot was well known. He knew you liked to drink, so it was a no-brainer that you’d go to the only bar in town eventually. It was truly a shame that he wasn’t as stupid as you thought he was.

Lost in thought, you hardly recognized that he hadn’t responded to your little remark, his body language making it clear that he wasn’t very amused by it. However, as you finally looked up at his eyes, you’d notice that they were fixed directly to your chest. 

Face growing hot, you self-consciously tug your dress up, shooting him another glare. 

“Pervert.” you scoff at him.

He remains silent, his eyes grudgingly dragging up from the flesh of your breasts to meet yours. 

“Wouldn’t have to be if you weren’t dressed like a whore.” he retorts, his voice thickly laced with sarcasm, though you knew he wasn’t quite lying.

You had intentionally picked out the most risqué dress you could, in hope of attracting a decent amount of male attention. It wasn’t like he could blame you, though. You hadn’t had sex since you broke up with Toji, and the thought of masturbation hadn’t even crossed your mind. While dating him, you didn’t ever need to masturbate. He made you feel better than you ever could by yourself, it was almost underwhelming to do so when you had him easily ready to satisfy you. 

Toji knew this, of course. You had made it quite obvious during your relationship just how much of a slut you could be for him, so malleable and compliant to him. How could you not be? With the way he had you feeling, you were more than willing to allow him to do as he pleased with you.

Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t subtle about the way he looked at you, or why he seemed so amused that you didn’t leave when he released your arm. 

He knew he’d fucked up, but he also knew that you’d come around. Your facade of annoyance would dwindle, he just had to ease it from you.

“How I’m dressed is none of your concern.” you hiss under your breath, heat spreading throughout the bridge of your nose and the flesh of your cheeks.

“Really? Whose concern is it, then? The scrawny little prick you left waiting out there?”

Your palms curl into fists at your sides, the frustration radiating from you as you glare up at him. “It’s not your problem.” 

“Mhm. Hoping he’ll dick you down half as good as I can?” 

Blinking rapidly, you can feel your breath catch in the canal of your throat. The statement is so blunt, it’s almost enough to make you forget your frustration. But you don’t, your brows furrowing into a frown as you scowl at him.

“He’d probably do it better.” you knew that wasn’t true, but you’d rather die than admit it to him. 

Though, the statement didn’t offend him as you intended it to. In fact, it had the opposite effect— an obnoxious guffaw rumbling in his chest. He was.. laughing at you.

You felt your face get hotter. 

“You’re an awful liar, baby.” 

And hotter. “Don’t call me that.”

Toji’s laugh dies down, though he has the audacity to clutch his hand against his abdomen as if the laughter had been hurting him. 

Hopefully it’d kill him..

“Come on, who are you fooling here?” he manages between chuckles, pushing himself out of the casual lean he’d maintained against the wall as he took a few steps towards you. 

You took equal steps away from him, backing toward the wall opposite to him. “I’m serious.” You lie, your wobbly tone a spotlighted contradiction.

He’s unfazed by your movements, continuing to walk in your direction with an amused expression. “I think we both know that you’re not.”

Admittedly, he adored the subtle reactions he so easily drew out of you. He loved the way you nervously dragged your gaze away, wedging your pouty lip between your teeth as you backed into the wall behind you. Toji mirrored you, moving in closer until he was mere inches away.

“I am.” you squeak out again, the sound of your voice shrinking as he grows larger in size the closer he wanders towards you. 

Your knees felt weak below you. It was almost surreal how easily he rendered you so helpless, all you were able to focus on was the feeling of your heartbeat ramming repeatedly into the inner lining of your chest. 

“Yeah?” he whispers, the heat radiating off of his immense physique suffocating you. The smell of his faint cologne filled your nose, and that scent alone was nearly enough to drive you crazy. Knowing him, he’d intentionally worn it to have this very effect on you, to have you gazing up at him so desperately while maintaining that stubborn look in your eyes. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, nervously chewing at the plush of your bottom lip without even realizing it. The gleam in his hungry gaze had you weak, his proximity causing you to feel small. He caged you against the wall with his arms at either side of you, his head dipping down so he could observe your reaction. The black strands of his hair fell synchronously, yet they didn’t shield his piercing eyes from you.

“You’re serious, right?” he mumbles, the warmth of his breath fanning against the flesh of your neck making you painfully aware of just how close he was to you.

You nod, almost helplessly. You were most definitely not serious, and he knew that. He knew it by the way your thighs pressed together, a sign he easily recognized as an effort to prevent your heat from spreading from the confines of the space between them.

“Stop me, then.” Toji whispers, lowering his head further and pressing his lips against yours. 

The little gasp you let out allows him to slide his tongue into your mouth, prodding it against your own wet muscle with ease. A calloused hand slides down from the wall and hooks against the fleshy handle of your hips, tugging your melting frame into him. His knee easily parts your latched legs, a soft and surprised whimper filling his mouth as the cap of it presses easily up your dress and against your clothed cunt.

He’s kissing you lazily, his mouth uncharacteristically languid as it pressed against yours. You were overwhelmed by his taste, the prominence of his tongue fulfilling an ache you didn’t even know that you had. So overwhelmed, in fact, that you almost whined out in protest when he withdrew for a short instance to catch his breath. 

“Stop me.” he repeats with a whisper, the warm sensation of his breath grazing your lips. Without giving you a moment to protest, his mouth is gravitating back into yours, a low grunt of satisfaction rumbling in his throat.

Despite your stubborn reservations, you knew you didn’t want him to stop. He always knew exactly how to work you up, and it’d be outrageous to pretend that there wasn’t a part of you that’d missed him for that very reason.

Toji uproots his wet lips from your mouth, pressing them instead against the sensitive flesh of your throat. Easily locating your pulse point, he nips at the skin, the sound of your whiny little moan making his cock twitch. 

“You want me to stop?” he taunts, his tongue prodding into the dull bite marks he’d created.

Your response is evident, a desperate back and forth tugging of your head.

His mouth, which had been moving in tune with your whimpers, slowed expectantly as he felt you shaking your head so frantically. “Didn’t hear you.” he grunts, threatening you with the possibility of his departure.

“Don’t stop..” you plead with him in a broken voice, your eyelids heavy with arousal as you felt his knee teasingly dig a little harder against your heat. 

He smirks against your throat. “You gonna quit whining and be a good girl?” 

“I will.” you assure him, the desperation in your voice leaving no room for doubt that you were more than willing to submit to him once again. 

“Say it.” he urges, his knee digging further up between your legs as he tauntingly dragged the cap of it against your clothed heat.

“I’ll- ah! … be a good girl!” you huff out in a soft hiss, your thighs squeezing around his leg as you pant out from the contact. 

You hadn’t even realized just how much you had missed him. 

With a groan of acknowledgement, Toji suddenly pulls away from you. You cry out softly in protest, slightly lifting your head up to reveal your pleading eyes to him. You’d promised to be good, hadn’t you? Why did he stop? He’d taken a step away from you, dragging his knee out from where it’d been wedged between your legs and giving you space to move from the bathroom wall. 

You whine out his name in a breathless whimper, subtly poking your lip out in a pout. 

“Not here.” He huffs out, motioning to your surroundings. Given how crowded the bar was in the first place, you were lucky someone hadn’t entered the bathroom sooner.

“Who cares?” You huff, unable to disguise the impatience in your tone as a familiar cork of arousal winds deep within your gut. He was the one who’d gotten you like this in the first place, anyway.

Toji lazily weaves his hand into your hair the next moment, a sharp tug of his wrist pulling you forward before you could process it. A gasp of pain flutters past your lips, but you’re too stunned to protest as he lowers his mouth down to whisper into your ear.

“I don’t want to hear you complain.” He murmurs, his voice low with warning as he gauges your reaction. 

Your lips parted as you prepared to protest, but the creak of the door swinging open immediately had you pressing them closed as you straightened your posture. 

He doesn’t seem nearly as bothered as a tall woman struts in, the sound of her heels clicking on the tile overbearing the awkward silence that filled the bathroom. 

“Excuse us.” He purrs, allowing his hand to fall from its original position in your hair to instead lock around your waist. “We were just leaving.” 

The woman’s petrified expression immediately reminded you of your disheveled state— your slightly unkempt hair and the crumpled dress that’d been rolled up above your thighs. You scuffle to rearrange the clothing, your face hot as you shoot her an apologetic look. 

Toji notices the silent interaction, however, and doesn’t hesitate to butt in with a smirk. “Sorry about that.” his tone was sincere, yet he was unable to mask the amusement in his expression. “She had too much to drink. Couldn’t hold herself together.” 

You bite your tongue, forcing yourself not to shout at him as you give the woman a sickeningly innocent smile. 

“She’s very sorry, isn’t she?” He continues, to your horror. His eyes travel back down to you, a taunting gaze within them as he squeezes your waist. 

“Yes, I’m sorry.” you mumble through gritted teeth. 

The woman waves her hands dismissively and hurries to an open stall, not a word from her. Embarrassed beyond belief, you swat Toji’s leg as hard as you can, tugging free of his grasp as you scurry out of the bathroom. 

“You’re such an asshole!” you hiss at him, huffing out in frustration as he wraps his arm around your waist again. 

His stupid grin only widens as he navigates the crowded room, assumingly headed for the exit. “And you’re still leaving with me.”

[crushedsweets]

How would the other pastas/proxies react if Toby died during a mission?

Writing on my phone in the car 10 mins before my shift forgive me… finished during my lunch break…

Tim would try really really fucking hard to pretend he doesn’t care all that much. He’s already lost plenty of friends/colleagues (directly or indirectly) to the operator and slenderman, and he always treated Toby like he was a pain in the ass, but like. Him and Brian took Toby in when he was just 17-18, he tried to make him a better man, the two of them have done abhorrent shit together and had to return to the cabin like nothing happened. He’d cry, spend long hours thinking about Toby, thinking about how much of a dick he was to the kid. But he’s strong . Kinda

Brian wouldn’t try to pretend he doesn’t care, although he is in a very similar boat to Tim. Took him in, guided him, hurt him - he would probably be the one to set up a grave of some sort for Toby, whether or not they even have his body to bury. The rest of them wouldn’t be able to do it

It’s possible that Kate wouldn’t even find out for a long fucking while. But she would cry, and mourn, and she would start going back to the cabin and she would sleep in the attic (Toby’s room) and it would be shitty. Toby was the only proxy to treat her like a person and they were both outcasts in their own right, both being the closest to perfect vessels slenderman/the operator could get . So it would suck ass.

I think Natalie would just die too. Ok not really but he was the first person to really just. Take care of her. And she really trusted that he would never ever leave her, not like everyone else . She would be angry, pissed beyond belief and she would cry and scream and throw around any of the gifts he’s ever gotten her and smash some shit he’s made her - and it wouldn’t be fair, and she would regret it, and hopefully someone would be there to pull her back before she legitimately fucks it all up, but she can’t get rid of that anger. Like Kate, she would go to the cabin. Being there too long gets her really bad slender sickness, she’s not immune like the others, but she doesn’t really care. Everything hurt so bad anyway, the screaming and crying already brought her nausea and migraines. Her and Kate would just silently lounge around his bedroom for hours everyday. Natalie is a tattoo artist with little to no tattoos bc commitment issues is a big thing for her, but she would get a little something to honor Toby

Jack would mourn . Toby used to bring flowers to his mom for Mother’s Day, because Jack couldn’t bare to be in a 10 mile radius of his family. He would try to host something for people, just invite them over and make some food and try to talk and have comfort. Only Natalie and Nina would come by choice, not because the rest don’t care but it’s just something they can’t handle to do. Kate might get dragged along. It would be painful and uncomfortable and probably just result in an argument of sorts, depending on how far along Natalie is in the grieving process . He would visit the grave Brian made for toby quite often.

Nina would be constantly crying, all the time. She’s had shitty men after shitty men in her life, the only good guys she’s had were her father and brother and she went ahead and left them behind to go seek out Jeff - but Toby was good(to a point, obviously). He was rough around the edges but he was protective, he took care of her, he defended her even if she didn’t deserve it. She and Natalie would probably have a few intense arguments because they’re two sides of the same coin in their grieving , with Natalie having constant explosive anger and Nina having long, drawn out grieving and sobbing. It would be a bit much for both of them. She would mope around her apartment for a long while.

BEN would also be pretty sad, but not nearly as much as the rest. He would talk it out with Jeff but wouldn’t cry, wouldn’t mourn , would just keep going. Jeff wouldn’t give a shit, would say it was bound to happen and to move on

Ann and Lulu would be pretty bummed out too, but Ann moves on pretty quickly. For Ann it’s more so a sad “Aw but he was fun”… lulu is too lost in her own head to spend too much time on it, but she’s undeniably sad when she’s reminded

Sally would also be sad, but similarly to BEN, she would move on. Cry to Jane about it and cope. Jane would think it’s sad, but she wouldn’t dwell on it either - she wasn’t close to him, she only knew him in passing whenever Sally got lost in the forest.

Liu doesn’t know Toby well so he wouldn’t think much, but Nina would cry to Liu about it a lot and it would be pretty depressing for him too. Just by watching how it affects Nina

[localcanadiancreature62]

Stan's Breakup Recovery,Fiddlestan au

This au again cuz i now have the Fiddlestan brainworms. Enjoy.

I just realized that Stan remembering their relationship while Fidds doesn't is actually the most horrific part of this au. Like imagine seeing your ex every single day with no way of talking to him about what happened because of his mind being too shattered for him to have a proper conversation. Imagine grieving a man who's already too long gone. Also these are mostly set in the 80s during Stan's early Mr. Mystery years.

Stan tries really hard to not think about what happened between him and the southern nerd,but that's a difficult task considering that he refuses to throw away the man's banjo and his various notes on his dumb killer robots despite how many times he tells himself to forget about Fiddleford and finally get rid of all evidence of him.

Fidds often sung to Stan,which is why he catches himself humming upbeat country folk songs without realizing it and he cries as he knows that he will never hear his southerner's high pitched,shrill singing ever again.

Stan considered on using Fidds' computermajigs and his various other gadgetry as attractions as a way to spite the hillbilly for leaving him,but he can't even think about the southerner in a spiteful way because of how much it pains him to be reminded of what they had.

Stan spent half of his life thinking that it was his fault that Fidds went insane,that HE was the reason why the man decided to destroy himself with that memory gun even when deep down he knew that neither of them could've expected that. The con man spent weeks watching his nerd lose himself in real time while not being able to do ANYTHING about it when he held onto the camera for Fidds' "experiment" while not knowing that it would eventually lead to the southerner forgetting to the point of losing his entire identity. He thought that if he caught onto the man's instability sooner,if he didn't press his own problems on the poor man,then he would still be stable. Old Man Mcgucket would still be his Fiddleford.

Fiddleford was the one thing that Stan never failed. Every other romance he had went horribly in one way or another,plus he somehow managed to NOT screw something up for once when he got into a relationship with the hillbilly nerd. Stan could proudly call something his,and be seen as worthy rather than people favoring his brother. But even with how happy he was with Fidds,he still screwed it up in the end. The man went insane,and he had to work on the portal alone.

Stan couldn't sleep during the first few weeks of Fidds leaving him and quitting the project again after that car crash. He was so angry and depressed and hurt by what the man did,even after everything they've been through together. He only got 2 hours of sleep at best,because if he wasn't thinking about fixing the portal and agonizing over not being able to activate it despite the various quantum mechanics lessons that the nerd drilled into him,he was thinking about Fiddleford. Of how they used to be so happy together,of the reason why he left. Of how ANGRY he is about his steadfast love and support being taken for granted,again (Ford was the first to do this). But even then,he kept going,as moping around about his hillbilly ex wasn't going to fix Fiddleford nor bring Ford back.

[a-dam-leo-valdez-lover]

Reunion

Leo Valdez x Fem reader

This takes place after the events of the second great prophecy, Y/N was on the Argo II with the 7 and is a daughter of Apollo but really could be anyone. Y/N is mourning the loss of her best friend and crush Leo and when everyone gathers for the memorial of his death things change. Don’t judge me too hard its been a few years since I wrote anything and had to start my blog fresh. Not entirely following cannon and while calypso is mention she isn’t actually a part of the story.

It took 3 days of searching before Chiron decided they were never going to find Leo’s body, to declare him dead. It took 2 weeks for Frank and Hazel to go back to Camp Jupiter after Leo’s funeral, Jason followed them a few days later promising he’d iris message Piper everyday. After a month Annabeth and Percy needed to go back to school, it turns out going on a quest really messed up a demigod's grades and makes getting into New Rome university way harder. A week after Percy and Annabeth left camp, Piper went out to visit her dad and for the first time since the quest began, Y/n found herself completely alone.

At first she struggled to find a way to spend her days. Unlike her siblings she lacked any all all skills in archery and Y/ns musical abilities left much to be desired. It was winter at camp so there wasn’t as much going on, most days she spent alone. The snow covered camp was beautiful, quieter than normal it seemed, except for the occasional bit of laughter from the other year round campers. She tried to iris message the others occasionally, shed promised Piper that she would call everyday, but it was never enough. She spent time with will, practicing in the infirmary and getting to know Nico since they were basically joint at the hip these days. It was good to see them happy, but it made her feel more alone. Sure her and Leo were never together, but he was her world, her partner in crime. She never got to tell him she loved him.

Over time though, it became easier. It turns out crushes feel less strong when the one you like is gone, and while Y/n may suck at archery and music it turns out she had a real knack for pegasus training. Plus with all the time in the world to practice she was pretty good with a sword too. Eventually she spent less time moping and being lonely and more time focused on build relationships with her sibilings, especially Will. The two of them would talk for hours on and end and his southern accent, while not quiet like Leo’s was comforting on the night where she had nightmares that kept her up. By default she became close with Nico too, sure they’d spoken on occasion before the quest and became a bit closer while trapped together on a ship for a few weeks, but this was new. He was quiet and didn’t ask too may questions, but he understood her grief better than anybody else.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Nico knew she wasn’t he only one still grieving Leo. He’d spoken to Percy and Hazel a few times and heard through the grape vine how Frank, Annabeth, Jason, and Piper were doing. He could see the sadness that lingered in their eyes, the lack of sleep was obvious, and he knew he had to do something. So it took it upon himself to plan a memorial for Leo.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

6 months after Leo’s death, everyone came back for the memorial. It was weird, awkward almost to all be together again. On one hand they all knew each other like the back of their hand, but at the same time things had changed, they weren’t in any real danger for once and its almost like they didn’t know how to interact without a monster lurking or the impending end of the world to lead the conversation. Thank gods for Piper, she always knew how to get everyone talking.

"Remember the time Leo pranked Chiron by programming his wheelchair to go backwards only? Or that time he made that robot spider to scare the Athena cabin during capture the flag," she reminisced, a bittersweet smile on her face.

Percy chuckled, "I swore Annabeth was going to kill him for that, i swear she screamed so loud my mom could hear it."

”Rude,” Annabeth tried to be mad but even she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, “but yeah, I was planning my revenge”

She paused, everybody knew what she wanted to say, he died before she got the chance. The room was heavy for a moment before y/n changed the subject.

”You know what I was thinking about the other day, the time he 'accidentally' set the strawberry fields on fire while upgrading Festus's flame system.”

It worked like a charm. The room echoed with laughter and shared stories about the metal dragon and the boy who built it. Y/N listened as everyone talked, but her attention began to drift as she gazed into the sky, captivated by a mysterious glimmer.

Annabeth noticed her distraction, especially because the conversation had shifted a while ago, and asked, "Y/N, do you even know what we're talking about?"

"Festus," Y/N replied absentmindedly, her eyes still lingering on the shiny object.

Annabeth sighed, "No, we're discussing college plans, Y/N have you even heard a word we said?."

Before Annabeth could get into a lecture about how important having a plan is, Y/N's eyes widened.

"It's Festus," She whispered, so quiet almost anybody could miss it She rose quickly from her seat staring at the shiny object in the sky, her heart pounding with a mix of hope and disbelief. The group followed her gaze, their expressions changing from confusion to surprise. A metallic dragon, catching the sunlight, soared across the sky. The sight left them momentarily speechless. Then, realization dawned, and their faces mirrored Y/N's astonishment.

She ran out as fast as she could to the beach where the dragon was landing, when she saw him. Leo Valdez, presumed dead, had returned in the most Leo way possible. The daylight seemed to cast a spotlight on him as he stood there with a stupid smirk on his face. The poor boy had hardly a moment to prepare himself before Y/N jumped into his arms wrapping him a hug.

"What are you—how, I mean..." Y/N stuttered, her voice a mix of confusion and elation.

Leo, with his trademark smirk, simply said, "Surprise."

"Surprise? Surprise? What the heck, Leo!" Y/N's confusion turned into a whirlwind of emotions. "You died. I watched you die. We never found your body, but you were gone. I spoke at your funeral, and now you're back, and all you have to say is 'surprise'? Gods, what is—"

Leo's laughter cut through her words. "Hey, I had to make a grand entrance, right? Can't just show up without a little flair."

Y/N's frustration shifted to a mixture of relief and exasperation. "Flair? Leo, you had us all convinced you were gone. What happened? How are you here?"

Leo scratched his head, a habit that hadn't changed. "Long story short, Festus and I took a detour in the labyrinth. Ended up in Ogygia. You know, Calypso's island? Time flows differently there, and by the time we found a way out, well, time had moved a bit faster here."

"Ogygia? Calypso? Time travel?" Y/N's head spun with the unexpected twists.

"Yeah, yeah. I've got a lot to catch you up on," Leo grinned. "But one thing's for sure, I'm back, and we've got some serious catching up to do."

Y/N's initial shock transformed into a grin. "You have no idea how much we've missed you, Leo Valdez."

As they walked back to camp together, the reunion echoed with laughter, questions, and the comforting feeling of having a friend thought to be lost returned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that night as the campfire crackled, casting a warm glow on the faces of the reunited demigods the Apollo cabin led the campers in a a few songs and Leo entertained the crowd with his tales of defying death. The atmosphere was one of joy and celebration, as the group sat together, reveling in the miraculous return of their comrade.

As the night unfolded, the campfire stories wove a tapestry of memories, both old and new. Y/N, caught up in the camaraderie, joined in the laughter and shared anecdotes. However, amidst the festivities, a moment of quiet reflection struck her. As she looked at the boy in front of her smiling and laughing her heart suddenly felt like it was being pulled in a few directions. He was really back. Maybe it was the days excitement or too much smoke inhalation or a combination of the two, but Y/N couldn’t breathe.

Pulling away from the group, Y/N wandered to the edge of the camp, her thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. The gravity of Leo's return, the mourning that had transpired, and the overwhelming joy of having him back weighed on her. It was all too much. Not to mention him being alive meant she’d have to deal with the whole unrequited crush thing. Not that she could even think about it right then, because Leo, sensing her retreat, followed her to the quiet corner.

"Hey, Y/N, everything okay?" he asked, concern etched on his face.

She hesitated, then sighed. "It's just... Leo, I thought you were gone. We all did. Losing you was... I can't put it into words. And now you're back, and it's so much to process."

Leo nodded understandingly, pulling her into a comforting hug. "I get it, Y/N. It's a lot. But I could never leave you behind, you know? We're in this together."

His words resonated with Y/N, and as Leo held her, she felt a mix of emotions pouring out. The weight of grief mingled with the joy of reunion overwhelmed her, and tears flowed freely. Leo just held her, it was almost enough to make her feel better on the spot. As the two stood apart the rest of their friends watched them whispering to one another.

”So when are the two of them going to admit they’re in love” Frank joked.

”Y/n talking about her feelings? It’s never going to happen” Jason laughed receiving a slap in the arm from Piper.

”I wouldn't say never,” Nico said , “she thought she missed her chance once she won’t let it happened again”

”Well lets just hope its soon, because I cannot hear about how ‘y/n does like me like that’ from Leo again when its so obvious to everyone else she does' Piper laughed looking at her two friends.

This is the first thing I’ve written in a long time but hopefully it’ll get better. Requests are open and please let me know if you want a sequel to this or anything else. Also lmk if you want to be tagged in the next one!

[bumblesimagines]

A not so brief summary on my thoughts on House of The Dragon S2:

This finale makes me want to go outside and reconnect with nature 'cause why the hell did they make us wait so long just for a bunch of filler episodes and what was basically a trailer for season 3?

Spoilers for the show AND book which includes the deaths of characters and the arcs they had in the book.

Right off the bat, I'm just going to say that this post, this post, and this post sum up some of my thoughts. It truly feels like Ryan Condal (as well as others in production) had someone else give him a rundown of what happened in the book and just went off on that alone. I admit, I like some changes made from the book specifically with Alicent being Rhaenyra's childhood friend but at some point it just diverged from an adaptation to a fanfiction.

I know people whine and complain that it's 'nOt GoNnA bE eXaCtLy LiKe ThE bOoK' but if that's the case, stop calling it an adaptation and start saying it's based off the book. Of course, people are going to be annoyed when changes are made when they step in with the expectation/hope it'll be like the first few seasons of GoT.

Season 1 was good but rushed and had far too many timeskips that skipped needed character development. We never got to see Rhaenyra shift away from 'I don't want children' to learning of her first pregnancy. We never got to see Alicent fully turn away from Rhaenyra and stew in her resentment over being stuck in a marriage she never wanted while watching Rhaenyra be free enough to have multiple sons with a man who wasn't her husband. Laena, Laenor, and Harwin had little impact because we saw so little of them. We never got to see if Rhaenyra loved Harwin or if she saw him as a fwb.

It was rushed but the characters felt alright.

And then in comes season 2 and we can see that they were too afraid of being called out to write proper female characters. I've said this before when answering an ask but HOTD only has two types of women: rebellious, headstrong, stubborn, warrior girls and sensitive, withdrawn, submissive, rule followers. This is Arya vs Sansa all over again. Women can be multiple things at once. Not every Team Black girl has to be a fighter, not every Team Green girl has to be quiet and faithful.

Why wasn't Rhaenyra angry about Luke's death? She left S1 looking enraged and started S2 off strong in her grief but then Luke was never mentioned by name ever again. I understand burying down the grief and anger to rule but we should've seen her continue to break down in private throughout the season. Her SON was MURDERED and you're telling me she's not going to continue grieving him when she didn't even do anything for half the season? All she did was run off leaving Jace and the Council scrambling to stay together or get consistently spoken over again and again and again. And now suddenly Ryan wants her to be this calculated meticulous cult leader? Rhaenyra's downfall is descending into paranoia and letting her emotions and worries get the best of her (WHICH NETTLES WAS A BIG PART OF). She loses and flees King's Landing because of it.

Why was Alicent's plot mostly revolving around Cole? Why did they choose to have her sleeping with him while B&C happened? In the book, Alicent is essentially taken hostage because B&C knew Helaena took her children to visit their grandmother and say goodnight. She watches her daughter be forced to choose between her two sons only for the son she chose to save be killed. Instead of feeling grief for her grandson's death, she feels guilty for... having slept with Cole. No real thoughts or feelings over her GRANDCHILD being MURDERED. Look, I love the Rhaenyra x Alicent ship but it was doomed from the start. Instead of trying to make it seem like there's a chance, complicate it more! The complexities is what makes the ship good! But no, let's have Alicent, mother of the king and a big part of what started the war, mope around and fuck this dude. Hello?? Are they also setting her up to poison Aegon at the end when she spent half of season 1 saying she needed to protect her children from Rhaenyra???

Why did Helaena mourn her son for an episode and then move on? Are ya'll seeing this pattern or am I crazy? Helaena is supposed to descend into madness over her grief and guilt. She can't look her remaining son in the face because she'd chosen him to die. She's so consumed by this that she ends up impaling herself in spikes after throwing herself from a window. Are they setting her up to be murdered? To do it just because? And what do you mean 'Helaena doesn't ride. She has no taste for it'? Helaena LOVED to ride. Her love for her dragon is the reason Dreamfyre breaks free from her chains in the Dragonpit when she senses Helaena has died. But of course, Helaena is a Team Green girl and only warrior girls ride dragons, right Ryan? And she's Team Green so obviously unlike in the books, the smallfolk despise her as much as the others? They took the devastating choice of B&C and gave it to Alicent in the last episode which makes the death of Helaena's son's absolutely meaningless and unneeded as well as her own death. And also? all of a sudden Helaena can now understand her prophecies and speak them clearly? So why didn't she tell anyone of B&C? Surely a mother would try to break away from fate to save her children?

Aemond, Aegon, Cole, and even Daemon were given more complexities and plotlines than the main women, Alicent and Rhaenyra, were lmao. While the faces of the war were cast aside to be one stereotype or the other, we got to see the men be messy and chaotic and full of emotions. Aegon got to be angry and defensive over his son's death but not Rhaenyra. Cole got to be conflicted over his doings but Alicent was just meh about it. Daemon had so much unnecessary hallucinations lmao. Was it even character development if after every hallucination he still beat his chest and called himself king? He learned nothing but suddenly he sees a horribly CGI put together vision of GoT and he's fine putting away what he's been saying all season long? Come on now.

Jace, Baela, and Rhaena were massively underused. In the posts I linked, it explains my issue with Rhaena taking over Nettles. It's stupid and unneeded. We get to sympathize with Hugh and watch Daemon bang his mom but there's no need for the ONLY WOC IN THE BOOK to be seen? Not even his clear bias for Team Black will allow him to bring in Nettles and let Rhaena be one of the few Team Black girls who isn't a fighter and a Strong Female Lead? Okay.

Jace and Baela were. there. I guess. We could've cut back a lot more of Daemon to show Jace in the North winning over Cregan or even having him return mid-season. He did nothing but serve face and have a few lines of being annoyed. And, it was his idea for the dragonseeds, both highborn and lowborn. And Baela was just there to be his voice of reason. The rational girlfriend who pulls her boyfriend out of his head. She had one good scene where she wasn't just Daemon's daughter or Jace's love interest (they never even did or say anything remotely romantic. They feel like friends over two people in love) and then she just. existed to be there for Jace.

The dragons were great and I loved their designs. I loved that their dancing is based on the birds of prey death drop(?) and I clocked it instantly when I watched Rook's Nest. However, I really hope Aegon belives Sunfyre is dead because of a weakened bond and not that he's actually dead considering Sunfyre burns and eats Rhaenyra alive?? That's his whole thing??

I did not care for Tyland and the pirate chick. We had a full fledged BATTLE be offscreen but we had to see Tyland get tossed around in mud? Okay. Sure. Uh huh.

Like... what was this? It was like hours long filler episode. 'It's setting up for season three!! that's why it sucked!!' but we still had needed action and characters that were brushed over? We could've had the battle between the Blackwoods and the other idiots, we could've had Nettles taming Sheepstealer, we could've had the women feel like real people instead of being one dimensional characters, we COULD'VE HAD RHAENYS HAVE EMOTIONAL SCENES WITH HER BELOVED GRANDDAUGHTER(S) BEFORE FLYING OFF TO BATTLE.

Anyways, honestly, 4 or 5 out of 10 for this season. I was bored for most of it and it was massively underwhelming. I expected this season to end with the Gullet and Jace's death being the straw that finally broke the camals back in Rhaenyra which would've had her take King's Landing in a fit of rage and grief. I also expected Daeron to at least have some sort of appearance? He gets mentioned twice and we see Tessarion briefly but no sign of the missing TargTower son and no Maelor? Okay. Sure. Let's just call this House of The Dragon: The Poorly Written Fix It Fic Brought To Life Instead Of Being Left On AO3. No wonder GRRM isn't going to be involved anymore.

This doesn't read like an adaptation brought to life by a passionate fan. It reads like an adaptation created purely to reach Game of Thrones level of fame and popularity. GoT earned it's popularity in the first few seasons. HOTD is merely piggybacking off it's success and failing at being anything other than a boring high budget show that happens to have dragons.

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 46

Burdockcreek died of greencough.

[Image ID: Clammask, Rustshade, and Weedfoot stand together, each with + CONDITION: GRIEVING underneath them. The ghosts of Twinekit, Burdockcreek, and Locustseeker stand above them.]

Fennelspot asked that Burdockcreek’s loved ones say goodbye to him before he passed. He was asleep, his breath strangled by mucus, but Fennelspot assured everyone that he would be able to hear them. He and Troutpaw moved Wildclaw back into the medicine den to give each member of the Clan their moment alone with the young historian. 

Oilstripe asked to go first and quietly stepped into the quarantine den. Burdockcreek laid curled up in his nest, the symptoms of his deadly condition draining down his face. Oilstripe took a quiet spot beside him.

“Is it okay that I don’t feel too heartbroken?” Oilstripe asked. “I don’t want you to go, of course. You’re my brother. I trained you. I don’t think I’m as close to you as Clammask or Dad, but I’m still your older sister. It’s just that… did you know Twinekit joins you on patrol some days? And Locustseeker watches us when we’re studying the world and telling stories to the kits. I still haven’t seen our mom after so many moons, but our siblings visit so much, it’s like they never left. I forget that’s not how it is for other people.

“What I mean to say is, Twinekit and Locustseeker are in the den with us. Twinekit insists that she’ll be the Fetcher for all of her littermates, it’s rather cute. It’s true, Twinekit! You’re perpetually cute. If you wanted to be taken seriously, you could have waited to die. Locustseeker’s here for moral support, Burdock. They’re excited to talk to you again. You’ll have a good time in StarClan. I’ll see you soon, little brother.” Oilstripe ran her tail over Burdockcreek’s feverish head and left her brother behind.

Weedfoot came in next. Her belly was swollen with her second litter, making her waddle into the den. She pressed her muzzle into Burdockcreek’s neck.

“You were as much my apprentice as Oilstripe’s,” she muttered. “You shouldn’t be leaving before I do. I’m sorry.” Weedfoot lingered in Burdockcreek’s unconscious embrace, unafraid of catching his disease. She only looked up when Clammask’s soft paws padded in.

“I’m sorry,” Weedfoot gulped, sitting up and clearing her throat. “I forgot this wasn’t his vigil yet. I’m taking up your time.”

“No, don’t leave,” Clammask croaked, stepping in front of Weedfoot when she moved to go. “I don’t want to say goodbye alone.” Weedfoot welcomed Clammask into her embrace, letting the golden molly rest her head under her chin. Weedfoot’s warmth covered Clammask. The deputy gently licked Clammask’s ear until she was ready to talk.

“Do you remember the last Harvest Moon,” Clammask mumbled, “when Burdockcreek challenged the LynxClan historians to a climbing competition? StarClan, he lost so bad, he moped behind the Leader’s Stone for… for… I can’t do this. I can’t remember my brother like this.” Clammask turned away from her dying brother. Weedfoot waddled to her side and walked her out of the den.

Rustshade came in a short while later. He stared at Burdockcreek, whose breathing had grown slow in the moments since Clammask left. Rustshade couldn’t keep his claws seathed.

“Are you here, StarClan?” Rustshade growled, looking up into the ceiling of the shipwreck. “You can’t take him. Why do you think you can take another of my kits from me? You don’t get Burdockcreek. You can’t have him.” Rustshade slipped beside his son. He closed his eyes, willing Burdockcreek to claw back from the edge and stay by his side.

Burdockcreek stopped breathing shortly after.

(Burdockcreek: 40, male, historian, competitive, lore keeper)

(Oilstripe: 50, female, historian, charismatic, ghost sight)

(Weedfoot: 95, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Clammask: 40, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Rustshade: 90, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

Puddlepaw and Ripplepaw are the first of their litter to earn their names. Ripplefern gets moth wings from Downstar as a gift for graduating.

[Image ID: Puddlewhisper and Ripplefern stand as adults. Ripplefern has moth wings tucked behind her ear. Above Puddlewhisper, it says LEVEL UP! PUDDLEPAW -> PUDDLEWHISPER, ODDLY OBSERVANT -> NATURAL INTUITION, MORBID CURIOSITY -> GHOST SENSE. Above Ripplefern, it says LEVEL UP! RIPPLEPAW -> RIPPLEFERN, AVID PLAY-FIGHTER -> GOOD FIGHTER, SPLASHES IN PUDDLES -> TALENTED SWIMMER, + ACCESSORY: MOTH WINGS.]

(Puddlewhisper: 12, trans female, codekeeper, righteous, natural intuition, ghost sense)

(Ripplefern: 12, female, historian, charismatic, good fighter, talented swimmer)

The AshClan cleric, Newtstream, asks for spare thyme. Fennelspot hands some over.

[Image ID: Fennelspot and Darkkick face Newtstream, who says “I really am glad you’re alive, Darkkick.” Darkkick responds, “Where was this concern when you let Autumnstar exile me?”]

---

Newtstream was there. She was there, in RippleClan’s camp, speaking with Fennelspot and Spikecrash like it was the most natural thing in the world. And she would notice Darkkick any second.

With his tail as tended-to as it would be for now, Parsley and Carnationspeckle offered to take Darkkick on a tour of the territory. It was strange to walk through land that Darkkick knew in passing, knowing that it may soon become as familiar to him as AshClan territory once was. With spring weather bringing life to the territory, Darkkick had a lot to say on how the caretakers were managing their gardens and utilizing the ocean. He couldn’t lie, when he had been AshClan’s clerics, he dreamed of the days when he’d lead a patrol to the ocean to collect rare salt, but now, once his tail was healed, he would be able to swim in that glistening water whenever he wanted. Perhaps he should have joined RippleClan earlier.

That simple joy crumbled when Darkkick’s tour group returned to camp near sunset and saw Newtstream sitting in the sand. Darkkick kept his face still as his former apprentice noticed him. As soon as her brown eyes widened, Darkkick strolled across the clearing, ignoring how his tail ached when he held it high.

“The rumors are true then,” Newtstream said softly, studying Darkkick. “You’ve returned to the Clans.”

“So I have,” Darkkick huffed. He refused to break eye contact with Newtstream. He would not break first. From the corner of his eye, Darkkick could see Spikecrash get ready to interject, but Fennelspot put his tail on her worn splint.

“I don’t see any reason AshClan can’t use some of RippleClan’s thyme incense,” Fennelspot said. A movement of his paw broke Newtstream’s stare. Fennelspot rolled an incense stick to Newtstream’s paws. “This bowl is a beautiful offering.” He placed his paw on the lip of a well-carved wooden bowl, perfect for ceremonies or meals for honored guests.

“AshClan thanks you, Fennelspot,” Newtstream said, bowing. “And it was good to meet you, Mediator Spikecrash. I hope your recovery continues as expected.”

“Thank you,” Spikecrash gulped, casting a glance at Darkkick. “It… will be nice to see you and your Clan’s mediators at my first Gathering. With the way my healing is progressing, Fennelspot says I’ll be better by the end of the season!” Spikecrash flexed her back paws. It seemed Fennelspot had done a good job.

“If you’ll speak to Halibutdusk over there,” Fennelspot explained, nodding to Halibutdusk by the oven, “he can escort you back to AshClan.”

“May StarClan watch over you, Fennelspot,” Newtstream said. She reached down for the incense, but paused. She stood back up and looked at Darkkick, her whiskers drooping. “I really am glad you’re alive, Darkkick.”

“Where was this concern when you let Autumnstar exile me?” Darkkick spat. His spit flew onto the incense. Newtstream closed her eyes for a moment. Then she picked up the incense and walked toward Halibutdusk.

“Spikecrash,” Fennelspot sighed, “it’s probably better that you not mention your relationship to Darkkick around other Clans. They may not take it well.”

“Because he was a cleric?” Spikecrash asked.

“Because she’s the reason I’m not one anymore,” Darkkick growled, cocking his head at Newtstream as she left camp. “StarClan told all the clerics that RippleClan was to be founded, and when I told Autumnstar, he called me a liar and exiled me. Newtstream was my apprentice. She said nothing in my defense, even though she saw the same things I did!” He yowled in the direction of the exit, knowing full well that Newtstream would be able to hear him.

“Darkkick may not be a cleric anymore,” Fennelspot explained, rubbing against Darkkick to soothe his shaking pelt, “but it’s better if the Clans get used to the idea of his return before hearing that he stopped keeping his oath.”

“That oath stopped bearing weight when I followed StarClan’s will and they did nothing to protect me,” Darkkick growled.

(Darkkick: 106, male, warrior, lonesome, talented swimmer, understands nature)

(Fennelspot: 103, male, cleric, insecure, trusted advisor, incredible runner)

(Spikecrash: 21, female, mediator, wise, good speaker, lore keeper)

[atopvisenyashill]

alright things i liked

baela pointing out that jace is not the first bastard to inherit a seat that isn’t his by blood. that was a fun convo and i loved the back and forth and i love that she comes at it like “why are you moping do you think you’re the only bastard in the fucking world” and jace is like barely able to argue his point that LIVING that reality is so much more draining than she realizes, he’s too busy daydreaming about strangling ulf to death over the kitchen table.

everything helaena did. sensing daemon is having a dragon dream and using it to get him back to rhaenyra’s side, the way she really was listening to alicent’s idea about running away to essos together, letting her mother speak her piece in her defense, then going out onto the balcony knowing aemond is going to corner her and giving him the dressing down of his LIFE while he cries, all very good.

abigail thorne. omg. am i mad she’s not sabitha frey? yes. was she still hilarious? also yes.

ESSOSI OUTFITS THAT LOOK GOOD. WE GOT BLUE HAIR FOLKS!!!!

ulf and hugh and addam. trying to find their place, trying to bond with their dragons and each other, unsure of their footing. addam looked ready to turn to goo in his chair. hugh wincing at every “lowborn” quirk ulf has. ulf going ham on acting like ulf bc he’s nervous & telling jokes to cover it. loved it.

alys alys alys. crying at daemon’s bedside at what’s to come, at what she’s going to face next. do you think she saw simon’s death and wept for her silly uncle. does she grieve her cousins before they have even died. does she weep at daemons bedside knowing she’s leading him to his end.

larys and aegon. the whole scene was so good, the way larys is really trying to convince aegon to leave & fight another day and he has like a VERY solid plan but aegon is so completely shaken up bc he just had no idea aemond hated him that much, this is just what love is to him, is this constant push pull of humiliation and abuse that hes still as blind as he was when he was a child to the way his actions affect aemond.

alfred brune just nervously disappearing into the crowd after Daemon gets everyone singing “god save the queen” is so fucking funny. man is like “oh i misread that one HARDCORE i am about to get ate by a fucjing DRAGON while those two watch and fuck nasty” his ass is GRASS lmao

things that were booty, ass even

every single scene helaena had should have come earlier in the season. there’s no reason alicent & helaena couldn’t have had this convo in the last episode instead of alicent fucking off to the godswood for a swim.

i think it’s fine In Theory that alicent goes to rhaenyra and basically surrenders. she’s been shut out of power, she’s lost control of aemond, she’s terrified for helaena’s safety, and otto who was her rock & partner in all things has been gone for a long while. she’s floundering, her shitty boyfriends have abandoned her, she thinks her only shot is to work out a surrender with rhaenyra. COMMA BUT. caving to rhaenyra saying “i’m gonna have to execute aegon” was dumb & ooc. i’m tired of all these little trips between KL and dragonstone. i think that confrontation lacked a lot of punch, alicent was FAR too calm. idek what they’re doing w alicent’s reactions half the time tbh, this feels once again like being unable to let an actress just look ugly for a minute. even during a scene where she should ostensibly be nervous and freaking out, she looks immaculate & prettily distressed. i’m very much over it esp with how often we’ve seen rhaenyra look banged up or windswept or tired or whatever this season.

officially fridging marilda just takes so much intrigue out of the hull boys & alyn specifically. marilda is the only baseborn or lowborn character we get in the book that isn’t shit talked and this is likely due to alyn making SURE his mother is respected. to cut all of that for….what? more manpain? unacceptable.

pls tell me why tyland gets more haha jokey scenes than baela and rhaena get for any scenes at all. baela fights and SURVIVES the last dragon battle in westeros. rhaena is the last dragon rider until dany. they are powerful political forces just as their grandparents and parents. but they just do NOTHING it is so FRUSTRATING.

in theory i’m fine with aegon thinking sunfyre is dead and then finding out he’s alive bc sunfyre has come to rescue him from something. but if sunfyre doesn’t show up WAY EARLIER than the swan dive, if they CUT SOMEHOW THE SWAN DIVE and we don’t get to see aegon snot-crying and screaming as he holds baela’s burnt open face against a headstone and screams that he’s going to kill her for killing sunfyre while she’s glaring and daring him to fucking do it then, you all will never know peace from me. i will literally never stop bitching i will become the most annoying poster on this website i will find condal and hess and i will-

all build up and for WHAT. did they forget that even tho s6 ended with a bunch of shots of people’s armies moving there was an entire fucking battle that happened and then cersei committed religious terrorism??!!!

OH SO WE KEEP YAPPIN ABOUT DAERON ALL FUCKING SEASON JUST THIS RANDOM ASS FOURTH CHILD THAT WE DIDNT HEAR ABOUT ONCE LAST SEASON, AND ALL WE SAW WAS THAT TWO SECOND SCENE OF TESSARION FROM THE TEASER??

AND WE DONT EVEN SEE DREAMFYRE??

[sipsteainanxiety]

when the night calls...

...do you answer back?

pairing: bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 2.7k+

mentions: no pronouns mentioned, char death (bkg) but not reaaalllyyy, aged up chars (25+), supernatural elements in a pro-hero au, grief/mourning, horror-esque but it's romantic i promise, hurt/comfort, lowercase, part of the dark chocolates teahouse collab.

you thought katsuki was gone—that he had abandoned you in this life to move on to the next. you saw his body—lifeless, cold, still. saw him get lowered into the ground in his dark casket enveloped in his hero colors. you stayed, for hours after the funeral, at his grave. wondering why he had to leave—why he had to break the promise he whispered to you on the night you both said your vows.

you thought he was dead. that he'd left you alone.

you were wrong.

the shadows seemed to long for your touch.

they lingered just out of the corner of your vision, always appearing closer than they actually were. you'd turn to see them stretching in your direction in ways that did not align with the light. you played it off as your mind playing tricks on you—as your grief warping your perception. but it was so hard to ignore, so hard to simply shrug off.

they crept over your shoulder—a chill running up and down your spine. they followed along as you walked home after a long day at work. they wrapped around you as you slept. you found yourself lingering in the darkness, not quite understanding why you just—never felt like you were alone. not truly alone, anyways. it was slightly unsettling, but you learned to ignore it.

you weren't scared, not particularly. it was just—cold. it made you feel isolated, at times. like the world was trying to shroud you in this darkness to remind you of what you'd lost.

you needed time by yourself, that was all. you told your friends the same stilted words again and again. i'll be fine, you'd say with a smile, just give me time. you lay in bed—that too large bed with too many pillows—and twisted the silver ring on your finger. staring up at the ceiling swathed in the milky lighting of the moon. the shadows appeared to move before you. your mind did not relent in your exhaustion.

with each passing day the ache in your heart only seemed to grow deeper. you wondered if it would ever end. you wondered if you would ever heal.

it was hard, being at home. traces of katsuki lingered everywhere you went. he was in the large boots that rested neatly by the door. in the lingering smell of burnt caramel that plagued your sheets and clothes. in the worn handle of his favorite spatula. it felt like you were suffocating, surrounded by so much of him. it was only natural for you to want to escape—to breathe. but it wasn’t that simple, and stepping outside just made everything worse.

he was on the t.v. screens in stores as japan still grieved, his face on every news channel. plastered to every pole, every brick wall. memorials were scattered around musutafu. candle stubs lined the streets. they were constructing a statue dedicated to him in front of the agency he’d co-owned with eijiro. you did not let your gaze wander for long. you were torn—drowning in your own sorrows and the sorrows of the people who surrounded you.

moping around would do you no good, you came to realize one day as you stared at a framed picture in your bedroom. it was the two of you on your wedding day, fingers intertwined tightly—two threads woven together expertly. the setting sun cast long shadows around the room from the open window that seemed to latch onto you. holding on for dear life. you ran a finger down katsuki’s face in the picture—the gentle smile he’d graced you with. only ever shown in your presence. you set the frame down and sighed—longing.

it took a few days for you to clean the entire apartment. deep scrubbing it and dousing it in a freshener to get rid of the bits of katsuki that lingered in the air. you hoped—so desperately—that it would alleviate some of the pain you felt in your chest. but as you stood in your darkened living room that smelled like citrus, you only felt emptier, it seemed. you ran a weary hand down your face.

you couldn’t… quite bring yourself to pack his things away just yet, either. so you sat on your couch as the moon peaked at you through the slightly drawn curtains, a single candle lit on the coffee table before you. it was lavender scented. you slumped forward to knead your fingers into your temples. you were exhausted. you missed him, so much that it hurt.

you stared at the flickering tangerine flame as it gleamed across your corneas.

something whispered your name.

it was soft—faint like a breath of air—yet it echoed so loudly in your ears because of how quiet your apartment was. your eyes darted up and to the side, wide and searching in the dark. you were alone. you couldn't see much beyond the couch you were sat upon. you swallowed heavily and waited, straining your ears in case you heard your name again. but you didn't.

you wondered if your grief was driving you insane.

you pursed your lips and stood up so you could slowly make your way to your bedroom to retire for the night. the shadows around you grew deeper with every step you took.

behind you, the candle went out.

you felt as though you were being watched.

it happened out of nowhere, the feeling of eyes on you as you went about your day. at first you chalked it up to your nerves, maybe the fatigue that weighed heavily on your shoulders. but it persisted. the feeling was stronger at night, you noticed, when you were surrounded by the dark. or at least, you weren't as aware of it whilst you were bathed in daylight.

it grew harder and harder to ignore as time passed. in other circumstances, you wouldn't have let it affect you so much. you wouldn't have had such difficulty with proceeding on with your daily routine. but you were troubled by the weight of the stare and the voices that whispered your name at night—when you were at your lowest, sitting in that too cold, too wide living room that smelled like a mix of citrus and lavender.

what really shook you, however, happened one evening after the sun had set and a gloomy dusk settled across the navy sky. you were sitting on the couch in your living room as you read a book, the lamp in the corner turned on to swathe everything in a warm honey glow. after what felt like hours, you eventually got up to grab a glass of water from the kitchen. it was then that you felt your foot get caught on something.

at first you thought you'd fallen victim to the blanket that spilled over the arm of the couch like a lazy waterfall. but when you looked down at your foot, you realized it wasn't stuck on anything. in fact, there was nothing wrong with it. you blinked down at your foot slowly, not comprehending what exactly was going on. it felt as though something had wrapped around it, gripping tightly at your ankle. something you couldn't see.

you gave a halfhearted tug at it, noticing how it was in the shadow of the couch from the lamp's light. but it didn't budge—not one bit. something in your stomach seemed to sink and grow deeper as you tried to pull your foot free from whatever held onto it. you swallowed heavily and—with all the strength in your body—wrenched your foot free. out of the deep shadow it was encased in.

the force you used made you stumble back until you hit the floor roughly on your backside. you immediately tugged your legs closer to your body, staring wide-eyed at the spot your foot had been stuck in before. there was nothing there. the skin around your ankle seemed to buzz. a shiver crawled up your spine.

something had changed, that evening.

you started drawing your curtains wide open, letting in the sun's light during the day and the moon's at night. you kept the lights on in every room you were in, chasing away every last remnant of the shadows. you were driving up your electricity bill, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. anything to make you feel safe—in a place where you once thought you could not be harmed.

it made you jumpy—set your attentiveness on fire. it had gotten to the point where your friends had started to notice something was wrong.

"are you... okay?" mina asked you tentatively one day as you met with her for a late lunch. your eyes darted over to look at her from where they'd been lingering on the shadows splayed across the table. "you seem... nervous."

"i'm fine," you assured her quickly, clearing your throat. your fingers tapped at the laminated menu before you. "i just... ah... have a lot on my mind, is all."

mina hummed, but it didn't seem like she really believed you. "if you say so..." her dark eyes looked down at her own menu, then back up at your own with a newfound sincerity to them. "you know we're here for you, right? i know it's... hard. for you."

you looked at her—really looked at her. she looked as tired as you felt, though where she covered her fatigue up with makeup, you didn't. and you were reminded, just then, that katsuki had been her friend, too.

you reached over so you could give her pink hand a gentle squeeze. "yeah"—you gave her a soft smile that she reciprocated—"i know."

you found yourself, one saturday evening, sitting on the floor in the middle of your brightly lit living room as you shuffled through a cardboard box. in it, were photo albums that mitsuki had gifted you so long ago. they were filled to the brim with childhood photos of katsuki—from the moment he was born, to the moment he and you had finally moved in together. you weren’t sure why, exactly, you were compelled to crack open this box, but you did. and it was simultaneously the best and the worst decision you’d made since his death.

you smiled wetly as your fingers flipped page after page, trailed down picture after picture of katsuki. him when he was five, his palms popping like sparklers. him when he was sixteen, grumpily standing with eijiro outside u.a. him when he was twenty-four, an arm wrapped around your shoulders as he scowled off into the distance. you thought everything would get easier—you hoped and dreamed. but it didn’t. at least, not yet.

you sighed and shut the thick album gently. then you hugged it to your chest, closing your eyes as you reminisced.

you breathed in, deep.

there was the smell of burnt caramel in the air—faint.

your eyes snapped open just as the lights went out around you, plunging you into darkness.

for a moment, your breaths stilled. you blinked, your eyes wide as they adjusted to the sudden change. the open window allowed pale blue moonlight to reach into the room, but it wasn’t enough. you glanced around, wondering what had happened. power outage? you glanced at the t.v. stand, where the cable box on the shelf within it still blinked red numbers at you to tell you the time. that was odd. you frowned and slowly picked yourself off the ground.

the moment you moved, you immediately felt the weight of a foreboding, familiar stare. that bore straight through you and set each and every hair on your arms and neck straight. you froze and let your eyes trail around you, cataloging every piece of furniture, every dark shadow that stretched towards you.

and that was when you noticed it. 

in the deepest, darkest corner of your living room. 

there was something. something that seemed to draw in the darkness around it. that writhed and dripped as it pulled itself up from the ground. no, not from the ground, you discovered. from the shadows. it was large. it was tenebrous. and it terrified you. 

but you couldn’t get yourself to run away. no matter how much you willed your legs to move, it seemed like you were rooted to one spot. you watched as this thing slammed a large, clawed hand on the floor—midnight like the shadows around it—and scratched its nails deep into the wood. it coalesced into what looked like a head and shoulders—a torso that moved in a way that was inhumane.

you took in a sharp breath of air when it rasped out something deep. that grated at your ears and made you feel the sudden urge to run. two crimson dots peered at you—bright like smoldering pieces of coal. and you realized you were looking right into its eyes.

it was difficult to decipher where the thing started and where it ended, with how wrapped into the shadows it was. you felt your heart leap up into your throat when it rasped that same word again—that you soon realized wasn't just any normal word. it was your name. and maybe that realization was all it took to jar you into movement.

you stumbled backwards, your instincts screaming at you to get away—run as fast as you could. it wasn't safe here anymore, it wasn't safe. you spun around and lunged for the front door, hoping, perhaps, that once you left your apartment, you would be okay. you could get help.

but you didn't make it too far.

something latched onto your leg, crawled up your body until you were twirled back around and forced into one spot. the thing wrapped its murky limbs around you, looming over you until all you could see was its strange, dark body. it pinned your arms to your sides and gripped at your chin to make you look up at it.

it said your name again—in a voice, you noticed, was familiar, somehow. with an undertone of this desperation. that gripped at your heart and caused you to look into its crimson eyes once more. really look at them. and what you saw reflected against them made you stop struggling. the pale moonlight backlit its features that slowly took on a shape you could recognize. you swallowed heavily.

"katsuki?" you whispered hesitantly. its grip loosened slightly at your voice. and suddenly you were burning up from the inside as the last bits of shadow slipped from its face and revealed one you knew all too well—that plagued you in your dreams and your nightmares. you slipped a hand out of his hold so you could reach up with shaky fingers and lightly touch at the curve of his cheek. his eyes closed.

"how are—" you choked out, your voice thick with emotions you couldn't even begin to decipher. your eyes frantically darted across his features, taking them in—memorizing them as though it was the last time you would ever see them again. he looked like himself, like your katsuki. but there was his underlying feeling that something was wrong. inhuman in the paleness of his skin and the way this darkness seemed to cling to him, unrelenting. "how are you—"

"i fought through hell," katsuki rasped out in a voice that seemed to echo in your ears, "to get back to you."

"you—" something seemed to lodge itself in your throat, just then. and all you could do was lean forward and wrap your arms around his shoulders. pulling him closer so you could rest your ear against his chest and listen to the thrumming of his heart. alive.

"it was hard"—he swallowed thickly—"i tried so fuckin' hard to let y'know i was here. but i was so fuckin' weak. couldn't do shit other than mess with the lights."

"all that time," you breathed as you turned your gaze to look up at him, "it was you?" he only grunted and held you closer. you bit at the inside of your bottom lip to keep it from trembling and buried your face into his dark chest. his body seemed to waver—shake, almost—like it could fall apart at any second. and that terrified you.

"what... happened to you?" you asked in a stifled voice, talking into his sternum. "please tell me you can stay."

"don't think 'bout that," he told you as one of his clawed hands came up to cradle the back of your head. you sunk deeper into his hold, unwilling to let go. "'m here now, yeah?"

you held him tighter—as though you could absorb him directly into your body. it was true, he was back. he was here as this tumultuous being of the night. that had clawed his way back to you—defying death as you knew it.

but at a cost you knew would never be repaid.

[deepdeanvsweston]

ik you’ve mentioned that DSS is your least fav book in the series and i’m wondering what you would change about it?

im not the biggest fan of it either tbh :)

Oh SO many things buckle in team. Ok so roughly in keeping with canon:

- first, Hazel wouldn't mention that Daisy was dead in the first chapter, nor would it mention it on the blurb

- for me it took the shock out of it so much that I wasn't even surprised she came back

- so it would be this secret until. Well. She actually throws herself in and then the Grief Pages

- just as a side note, when I first read the chapters where Hazel was grieving, I remember thinking 'surely Hazel should be sadder?' because emotions always tend to come through really nicely when Robin writes her. I like to think that Hazel was telling herself 'Daisy wouldn't like me moping about and wailing in the casebook about it'

- anyway

- I'm ALWAYS sitting on the fence about whether I like the moment they reveal themselves as detectives/police officers (I can't quite remember what they call themselves)

- first read I hated it I was like 'what are you doing!!!' but on a re-read I did think 'oh this is very fifteen year old behaviour'

- I really enjoyed the 'theyre 1930s teenage girls so have to be covert in their operations' aspect of MMU, so when they did reveal themselves as 'police officers' and were conducting interviews I did miss those vibes

- so I'd possibly change that bit, I'm not sure what to though

- I'd change how the Damina kiss played out

- I think it was too on the fly personally

- I would have written as Daisy goes to Amina's room for something. And then when she comes back, Hazel describes her as pink and distracted and how she keeps touching her lips. And Hazel writes in her casebook how 'Daisy has lipstick on her lips that wasn't there before but knew Daisy wouldn't appreciate her pointing it out' sort of thing

- I'd change nearly the whole ending

- it's always always bugged me (and made me sad if I'm being honest) how everyone was paired up at the end. I've spoken about this before, but just to reiterate, I think it was bad that a series aimed at 9-12 had all the characters pair up at the end of the series, as if all happy endings included a partner, and especially considering the speed at which it was done

- Halexander I get, it'd been building for a while. Damina, for the same reason, though I would have liked more development. But George and Lavinia I actually had to put the book down because I was speechless

- so yeah I'd do away with George and Lavinia completely (apologies George/Lavinia shippers 💔)

- as for Halexander like I said I get it it had been building

- but what I'd have liked to had seen is the bit where George is like 'has Alex really not said anything?' I would have somehow implied that he was being respectful of Hazel's grief, rather than just being nervous to confess

- and then Hazel would go seek him out instead, and ask him, and ofc he'd say yes

- but then Hazel would tell him 'i can't do this, not right now' and I like to think it would be a sweet moment where they agree to be 'friends for the foreseeable future'

- the whole 'Daisy reveal' thing bugs me too, I just didn't enjoy the way it was done. I'm possibly biased and pinning more on these relationships than there actually is, but I think Bertie and Hazel should have got to see Daisy alive together

- No do you know what I just didn't like the way Daisy actually 'died' either. If we're keeping with canon, she had to die because of the Grief Pages, but maybe I would have had Daisy pulled overboard secretly at night without Hazel realising, maybe about halfway through the book (so earlier than in canon)

- and so Hazel still has this glimmer of hope that Daisy is out there and takes charge and perseveres to solve the case with George, Alex and Amina

- which in my professional opinion would have made the 'madam president' and Hazel telling Daisy she made herself president more meaningful

[ghostwise]

ZevWarden Week 2023 - Day 2, Secrets Kept and Told

🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿🌿

Death From Head to Foot :: 721 words tags: guilt, ptsd, canon-typical violence, zevran arainai/male mahariel

It was bound to happen eventually.

Zevran does not know the man, but the man knows him, and that is his own error. An Antivan Crow never blows his cover. A Crow should strike from the shadows, vanishing after a swift and lethal blow with none the wiser. No witnesses. But here he is, and here the grieving stranger, bent on his destruction.

Had he not come to this city, Zevran would have never known that this particular iteration of Vengeance stalked the world, with his name upon its lips.

Worse still, Hamal meets his would be assailant first.

Damn it all.

"Do you regret his death?" Hamal asks him, days after the fact.

An easy question. Zevran is alive and his attacker is dead. The Warden is safe and unharmed. All should be well. And yet…

Zevran gives a terse shake of his head. "It was him or me. And you were quicker in dispatching him than I would have been."

Hamal observes him for a moment. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't immediately reply.

It's true that the incident bothers him still. It does him no good to brood over it, however; he should have put it from his mind straight away. Such childish moping helps no one. Now Hamal is concerned, and Zevran knows better than to try to insist everything's fine.

Experience has taught both of them how to navigate these fraught moments of conversation. So he gives.

"It was his right," he says sharply. "I killed someone dear to him. He reacted accordingly."

"As did I," Hamal returns, carefully.

"I know that," Zevran says. "Thank you, by the way."

Hamal's brow furrows. "Creators, now I am worried. Zevran, what's the matter?"

"It is going to happen again."

In the resulting silence, Zevran lets out a sigh, and explains.

"In all of our travels together," Zevran gestures in a wide arc at their surroundings, "How many times do you think we have passed through a city or town where I have killed someone? In truth, it happens more often than I care to comment on."

Hamal hesitates before answering. "This troubles you."

"No, in fact," Zevran replies. "What troubles me is that you cannot understand how much I am guilty of. Not because I would ever keep it from you—but because if I listed off my every sin we would never have time to discuss anything else! And then things like this happen without warning, and it—damn it all. How can I expect you to answer for so much?"

Perhaps it is a testament to how long they have been together, that Zevran no longer glosses over his emotions, his anger, his sadness. He doesn't need to. Not with him.

Hamal looks away for a moment. Through the muddle, it clicks.

"You wanted to kill him yourself," he says gently.

"I was the target. I should have handled it."

"How is this different from any other time you have killed to protect me? Or I you, for that matter?"

The question knocks a bitter laugh out of Zevran. He looks away. Worse still, he realizes that Hamal is right; this was different. And now Zevran can only remember every stupid, cruel decision he made when he was an angry and lost young man.

It had not been a contracted killing.

It had been a simple murder. A common fight gone wrong, bravado and his cunning Taliesen egging him on. A version of himself Zevran cannot think about without his stomach turning. No wonder the man had been so bent on killing him. No wonder.

"Shit," Hamal murmurs, and sets a warm hand on his shoulder. "Zev, you do not need to talk about it if you do not want to. I don't mean to pry. Just tell me what I can do to help you right now."

In an instant, the feeling swells and fades. Zevran shuts his eyes. His shoulders slump minutely; he is grateful for the escape.

"Just… forget I said anything," he says. "Please, amor, forgive my bad mood. I will be fine. Really."

And I will tell you later, he thinks, as Hamal gives him a reassuring squeeze, what a horror it is you have married; and you will love me all the same, I know; and I you, more and more all the time…

[sukibenders]

(2) Instead we see laena feeling like a consolation prize (imo not even 2nd best) and trying to make peace with that, probably thinking she's lucky because considering the world they live in, 'it could've been worse'. She misses her family and has to comfort a daughter who thinks her dad doesn't love her for being dragonless, but when she tries to talk to daemon about how she feels he dismisses it, all because he's moping about rhaenyra. Don't get me started on how he laughed at her funeral, idc the reason, you bet he wouldn't have even thought of doing that if it were viserys or rhaenyra's funeral. He spent the day with his eyes glued to rhaenyra, his daughters abandoned in a corner (thank god for rhaenys) and finally he has sex with the woman whose shadow laena had to live under all those years. At laena's funeral, in her house, while her family is grieving for her. Daemon didn't show any respect for her; he might've been fond of her but did he love her? Idk, he definitely wasn't in love with her. Tbh i don't know if laena loved him either.

Imo they also missed a chance to show how alike daemon and laena were but only if we consider daemon's better character traits and when he's in his best behaviour. I guess you could say laena was a kindred spirit to daemon's better side, which can be compared to how he behaves around rhaenyra and in which ways those two are alike. Laena obviously didn't change daemon, she didn't make him better. But i think that in a way daemon's worst instincts were dormant around her (granted, in the book they were together only a few years and there were no external factors that brought daemon's bad side out). It even makes me think of laena's bond with vhagar, an ancient war machine who was drawn to darker characters than laena but was drawn to this spirited girl and spent their time together taking laena out for joyrides. It didn't last long and sadly vhagar went back to bonding with a darker character that rode her to war again.

Definitely, show Laena does give off the vibe of "could have been worse" in terms of her just "accepting" how her relationship with Daemon is (probably from having dodged the bullet of marrying Viserys in her mind) and, added on to the stress of her current pregnancy, probably was too tired to fight him and expected to do so after the birth (which we know didn't happen). It's sad because you can how alone she feels as taken from her family and can't even share her childhood home with her daughters (I fully believe that had she been able to return home, maybe even survived her pregnancy, she would have stayed back on Driftmark and never thought of leaving permanently again). It really boils my blood how we have Rhaena being ignored by her father for being dragonless when he loved her in the books. He would not do that. Him laughing at Laena's funeral would not have happened had it been Viserys or Rhaenyra, as you said, as he would have killed someone then and there had they done so. And him spending the day staring at Rhaenyra all throughout the funeral (not even hiding it because other people noticed) and leaving his daughters was so disrespectful, making matters worse when he sleeps with Rhaenyra (who was wrong for that too). Laena hadn't even reached the bottom of the ocean before they moved on. In context of the show, I'm not sure there was even respect for Laena after she died because if you respect someone then you definitely wouldn't of have done that at her funeral (not even including his treatment of her during their marriage as well).

Thank god for Rhaenys too, as you said, but even some of her character kind of has flaws when it has to center Daemyra (or just Rhaenyra). Because the pair [Daemyra] were not very smart to have gotten married literally, not only, after Laena was just put into the sea but Laenor was presumed dead as well with Rhaenys and Corlys discovering the body (that scene was wrong as hell too). It sends a very bad look and Rhaenys definitely was not feeling Rhaenyra after that. I also wished there was more anger from her towards Daemon because she would know fully well that the only thing stopping Laena from coming home, from bringing her daughters with her, would have been Daemon. And you know that if she caught wind of him ignoring Rhaena she would have swept her off to Driftmark with her sister in a heartbeat.

But back to another point that you said, op, that really got me thinking: both Laena and Rhaenyra bring out sides in Daemon that influence his character. Now, from what I've heard about her book characteristics, Rhaenyra is very different from her show counterpart and doesn't flinch at getting her hands dirty, for a lack of better words. In the show, while not the same, I do feel as though she brings out a side of Daemon that makes him brash and fiery. I saw a gifset edit of them standing side by side with her casually nodding to him before he does something reckless (she definitely nodded at him before he cut Vaemond in half) and that would have been even more interesting had we been given more scenes with Laena to parallel this. In the books, Laena doesn't seem to hold that darker energy as Rhaenyra, and this would contrast her well with Daemon. I see her holding him back from acting out violently, which is very smart in my opinion because having Rhaenyra be okay with his violent acts towards others doesn't seem very smart if you want people to back your claim for the throne. I see Laena calming the fire within Daemon without trying to smother it, but I also see him being surprised by her own (or, since the Velaryons are of the sea have him describe her with sea connotations like "she was as calm as the sea on a peaceful day, but don't let that overshadow how she could rage as it during the storm", like the sea is a force to be reckoned with too HOTD!) This could correlate well with what you had said about Laena's relationship with Vhagar, a dragon from a time period of huge war in not only Targaryen, but Westerosi history. A dragon known for her darker riders (eg. Visenya and Aemond) but allows Laena, who definitely isn't like them, to claim her. That within itself is a feat, but to have mentions of her being like the sea, as said earlier, it would have added more context. I kind of imagine it as those character dynamic drawing with three people where two have "look like they could kill you and would" being for Visenya and Aemond and then the third, in the middle, being "looks like a cinnamon roll but would actually kill you" for Laena. Like it also would have sweet to see how she and Vhagar interacted because, in comparison to her past and future rider, I feel like Laena's kindred spirit would have been a nice break for Vhagar.

While there isn't much to go on from their relationship in comparison to Daemyra's in the books, I think that could also work for their benefit. Granted, there wasn't a war happening, but if Laena didn't help ease his fire then I'm fairly certain there would have been insistent involving him during their time together aside from him killing Bravos. But that's just me personally.

Another thing that annoys me is how some in the fandom use the possibility of Laena and Rhaenyra being in love for the wrong reasons. Hear me out, I think the pair would be cute and I wouldn't mind Daemon's inclusion as long as Laena is cared for as well, but some in the fandom use this ship just as an excuse to hate Rhaenicent all the while not even caring about Laena (same with it just being Laena and Rhaenyra). Like they use Laena as a prop (and sometimes target for some toxic Rhaenicent stans) and it does her character and the actresses a disservice (sometimes harm because I know the hate actors and actresses can receive from ship wars especially if they are a woc).

[thelavendercatalogue]

Malta and Jigen were the same in many ways

old souls in young bodies however there was a difference between them

Where Malta embraced her age and all that came with it Jigen tried to hide it to mask it. Both Jigen and Malta got gray hairs early on in life, but while Jigen tries to cover them up and dye them, Malta embraced them.

Despite that Malta liked to poke fun at his age, taking jabs by referring to him as a old softie. Old soul, old softie…looks and acts like some old grizzled lone wolf, she often called him a old hound when she played with the grey hairs in his beard, and he often grumbled how he was not old, but deep down he was immensely pleased by her compliment's, especially when she teased that he's already turning into a fine silver fox at such a young age

Following their time together, Lupin actually began to notice that ever since the two of them (Malta and Jigen) started dating, Jigen didn't cover up his grays anymore and Lupin often grumped about it because oh but when I tell you they make you look nice ya don’t believe me. . . But when SHE does it

Jigen just laughed because it was almost comical to see Lupin moping around like that, now he knew how Jigen feels when he brings a new girl home. He always claimed that, with Lu anyways, well part of it was to keep their ability to disguise and blend in. He doesn't mind Lupin acting jealous. In fact, it's almost kinda fun when he gets extra sweet on him for a little bit, being all clingy and missing him and a just a little possessive

If anything its fun for Jigen to watch Lupin be in his shoes for a moment or two

. . . Jigen started to once again cover up his grays again after Malta's passing shortly afterwards

Following Jigen's killing of Malta's manager upon learning of his hand in her death. . .Lupin began to notice that he couldn't see any of the grays in his beard or his hair one day and as it turns out Jigen started dying his hair once again not long after she passed away.

Lupin didn't question him about it or anything He wont Jigen was grieving, it was best to leave him be. . . .

[tumblingxelian]

The next verse the same as the first because defenses I've seen for Tai have been very poor and they pretty much all say the same thing. 

"He loves his daughters, so Yang's neglect and parentification can't have been abusive."

Like, no sorry, that's exactly what it was, you can love someone till the moon and back and genuinely not mean them any harm and still do incredible harm. Speaking from personal experience it doesn’t have to have been intentional to have been abusive, just like Parentification.

I would also note that Willow Schnee certainly doesn't get any "She loves her kids" considerations for her neglect, which is the exact same type of abuse Tai put Yang and Ruby through regardless of whether he meant to or not.

Tai can love his daughters and still have done harm to them and frankly I think its rather important to remember that abuse comes in many forms and from many types of people, not all of them someone whose consciously trying to do harm.

So yeah, neglecting your children to the point where the eldest has to take on the duties of raising the younger one and keeping the family together? An abusive situation no matter how much love is there, cos love isn't the same thing as actually parenting.

Oh and the other excuse is "He was grieving, be nice" and like, grief isn’t an excuse, Tai doesn’t consider it an excuse, dismissing Yang’s trauma & depression as moping. Only promising to give Yang support when she stops doing it. Oh and for all the ‘Tai was grieving' defenses, so were his two very young children!