#he always felt bad but figured it would be easier to pretend it didnt even happen

[thwackk]

Could you give more lore about your Lego movie au? Sorry I just have brainrot over your doodles, I love your designs so much

I dont rlly have any lore, it was just a dream I had where everyone was there and it played out almost like a movie. It was silly, as a lego movie should be.

But there was also a main focus on batman and superman’s relationship specifically where superman is still pissed and personally hurt abt something bruce did years ago (I have no idea what he did, the dream withheld that info from me) and so bruce, suddenly deciding to be a part of the league and try to be friends with everyone and act like the past never happened, (im gonna say this takes place probably uuhhh a month after the events of the lego batman movie so bruce is in the process of changing for the better) made clark a little salty.

With him being the generally kind and understanding man he is, he tries not to make a big deal abt it and acts (mostly) normal to Bruce, but he does and says alot of subtle passive agressive things to bruce throughout, and they kinda buttheads with each other for most of the film (can I even call it a film??) This plays out in, 90% of the time, a comedic fashion because it’s just legos LMAO.

Flash and Green Lantern were there and were already a pre-established couple because of course they were, it’s MY subconscious we’re talkin abt here and it rlly likes to yell at me “WHAT IF THEY KISSED” when it comes to those two. Diana was there and so was Aquaman but i’ve never given him a design for this, (sorry) maybe i will someday. They were like the team mom and dad just a little bit, they were kinda the middlemen, break up the fights, Diana made them get along through threats and being scary, that kind of thing.

Hal and Barry (mostly Hal) were that annoying couple that like to give advice, or like everytime bruce and clark started ‘yelling’ (more like just aggressive talking) at each other he’d lean over to barry and say smthn like “see, now this is when they kiss” idk I just remember weird little specifics, I can’t remember the whole dream like plot stuff and what happens, i just remember this dream was LONG and VERY specific. Part of me thinks it was my subconscious way of yelling at Batman because he makes me so mad sometimes

[bloodycassian]

Branded - Az x no gender reader

Reader helps Az figure out where an artifact came from. No smut. 

Putrid stale air rose from the island off the spring court coast. The Illyirans all glanced at each other nervously. 

The rebellion when Tamlin had found out about Nyx had been...subtle. He began with calling a meeting, the first in his court in several years. Where he then proceeded to inform the rest of the courts about Nyx and his paranoia of the night court wanting total control of Prythian.

 “No different than the king that the drunk hellcat slew.” He had grimaced, leaning back in his chair at the head of the table. Cassian tensed, jaw clenching at the mention of his mate. Rhys shot him a look that had his general stay in place. The  meeting would not last long if Tamlin made many more remarks like that.

“The king that you allied yourself with, Tam?” Lucien cut, crossing his arms over his chest. His metal eye clicked - narrowing at his once friend and ally. 

Tamlin bared his teeth, the rage plain on his face. Rhys had no idea how deep the rage and pain went however. He shuddered as he circled lower with his brothers. The smell was getting worse. Rage and love were blinding effects to the mind but...enough to..torture people? To what end? 

The shanties and tents among the dead island were somehow in worse condition than the Illyrian camps. And the bodies… Azriel felt his stomach churn at the sight of the malnourished figures laying among piles of blankets. 

Trying to stay warm from the cool sea air. Tamlin never spelled the area to withstand more intense weather conditions. He had wanted them to suffer. Cassian was scouting ahead for any survivors. Azriel and Rhys walked up the creaky wooden steps to the biggest cottage in the makeshift town.

 “Mother above…” Rhys breathed as the door swung open into darkness. Azriel was next to him in an instant, letting his shadows take him over the steps. Quiet as the wind. 

His heart fell out of his body at the sight before him. Scattered in the dark room were pieces of bodies, tattered linens and blood. Cauldron, blood was everywhere. But that wasn’t what knocked the air from his lungs. In the center of the room, supported only by spikes and spears was the body of a horned wolf. Golden fur turned a dark brown from crusted blood. 

Tamlin was dead. 

Rhys was backing up, knocking into Azriel’s shoulder. Shock weighed both of them, making them numb. Rhys kept backing, down the steps until he fell on his ass into the mud next to a pile of dirty blankets. 

“Rhys-” 

“No, I dont… No.” His hands combed through his hair, pulling slightly. 

Cassian arrived then, his face a bit pale. “What-” His eyes went blank for a moment and his jaw dropped. He ran to the cottage to check for himself. Rhys couldnt even speak to him. Azriel took a breath, cracked his knuckles and grabbed Rhys’ arm. 

“Go back to her. Tell Elain-Nesta, whoever to watch Nyx and tell Feyre. She needs to know.” Azriel forced his high lord to make eye contact. His eyes were muted, but he nodded numbly. Azriel turned to follow Cassian to the bloody room. His shadows whispered to him that Rhys had gone. He breathed easier knowing Rhys was at least listening.

“Az, you see this?” Cassian called. 

He approached the wolf body apprehensively. He had never liked Tamlin, not since what he did to his almost-mother. Rhys’ mother. His head was spinning with the politics of other courts learning that Spring was now barren of a high lord. He prayed to the Cauldron that none would find it suspicious that the night court had found Tamlin. 

Cassian was pointing to the shoulder of the beast. The brand almost looked like a stamp with how deep it cut. An image of a lit torch, blood dripping from the edges of it. He didnt know if the blood was the design or if it was from the wound. 

“That’s not an insignia i know.” Azriel murmured. 

“The queens maybe?” Cassian wiped his hands on his trousers, fingers lingering towards his dagger for safety. 

“I think I know someone who may be able to help.” Azriel sent out his shadows, searching as far as he could. He would find what kind of metal made this.

+

“It’s Torvakian. Not rare but uncommon even on the continent.” You explained, weighing the metal in your hands. Azriel had it brought to you by his dark shadows before he had even arrived. 

By the time he did you were able to glean a sample of the piece and compare it to ones similar. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means it’s from even further east than Rask. You’ll have to be more specific about what you’re asking.” You tossed the branding iron back to him. He wasn’t his normal… neutral self today. He was almost mad.

“Shouldnt you know this, being a spymaster and all?” You chided, turning from him and pulling another dark iron from the wall. It was similar to the piece he had brought you, but the forging was different. Like it was carved from an entire stone instead of being put together. 

He sighed and ignored you. “Do you know anything about the insignia? Are there other courts that this represents?” He was definitely in a  bad mood. You wished you could offer him a drink, but he had been non stop questioning the entire time. Really, Rhys should pay you as well. Being the go to mystery metal solver whenever any foreign courts tried attacking… it was job security you supposed. 

“I’ve never seen the insignia. Maybe you should go ask Clotho-” He cringed, his shadows gathering around his shoulders. “or maybe Gwyn, shadowsinger. She’s trained enough with the scholars to know” You clipped, knowing it would shake him. 

If he was going to be grumpy then you could be too. You knew about his late talks with the Valkyrie, yet he was always spending unnecessary amounts of time just around you. Joking, sharing lunch and stories from the continent. You had even roughly planned a ‘dream trip’ with him there. All theoretically, of course. 

His eyes smoldered, cheeks deepening in color. You felt yourself flush red and turned from him. Pretending to inspect a sword on the wall, you felt his presence shift. You knew where he would be before you turned. You swallowed. He was right beside you, not a word spoken.

“I dont want Gwyn-” He breathed, placing a scarred hand on your wrist gently. “I want you.”

He lowered your hand and his fingers slowly slid over the back of yours. The texture of his was interesting, firm but soft as well. His fingers interlaced with yours, as if asking permission. He was slow, so damned slow with this. As if you were going to run away. 

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed lightly. 

[cassyapper]

bless you @bisexyofficial

i’ll put a cut so ppl who dont wanna see it dont have to wade through my ramblings but

jonathan joestar’s whole life was a tragedy nd im tired of pretending it’s not

tw suicide btw

i have been thinking abt this for so long and i only recently figured out how to word it so let’s go

first things first;;; he’s in a carriage accident as a child, in which his mother dies while protecting him from the brunt of impact. i have no doubt in my MIND george kinda blames jonathan for his wife’s death because of this (ill get back to why i think so in a minute). but even if george didn’t, it seems like it’s in jonathan’s nature to blame himself as well

i think that’s why he tries so hard to be the hero (for example, when he steps in to help erina even though he was no match at all for the bullies). he wants to pay it forward if you will; he thinks he’s living on borrowed time, and he doesn’t want to carry that debt longer than he must, which in this case would mean...dying for the good of someone else asap. not good!

so frankly already i think he was never in the best place mentally but he was like okay relative to how bad it would get.

but then dio ~the invader~

dio comes in with the life mission of making jonathan so miserable he kills himself so that he can have all the joestar inheritance. jonathan no doubt picked up on this, considering dio was never subtle about it lol

i think the only reason he didnt go along with it is because, especially in western christain culture at the time, suicide was seen as the easy way out/a sin/something selfish, which wasnt how jonathan wanted to go. he wanted to kill himself sure but he wanted the benefit of the doubt regarding it and he wanted it to be because he was saving someone else

my proof of this line of thinking is all very subtle but it is there and it’s all in the fact that jonathan does nothing to stop dio from tormenting HIM. when he lashes out a dio, it’s only when dio drags others into their feud, like erina and danny and later george and eventually windknights lot. but when it was just him? jonathan took it and swallowed it and did nothing in retaliation. because he though he deserved it

this lack of action is echoed in how he just takes his father’s abuse as well; george jumped on the opportunity to belittle jonathan (such as the dinner table manners bs/otherwise always comparing jonathan to dio in a way “why cant you be more like him” way) and always believed dio over jonathan when they squabbled bc, as mentioned earlier, he blames jonathan for his wife’s death and he loves having some reason to be mad at jonathan. jonathan just takes it and accepts the unfair punishments (such as when george literally STARVED HIM, A GROWING PRETEEN BOY) because again, he believes he deserves it. he believes he is inherently bad

this line of thinking would also explain why he never tries to reconnect with erina until theyre adults and erina initiates it; he doesnt want her to be targeted because of HIM again. he wont drag her back into his messes for the selfish reason of him wanting her company

so. jonathan doesnt like himself. he is perfectly fine with others using him as their emotional/physical punching bag but he will get upset if others get involved

jonathan is selfless to a fault and it really really hurts, u guys. it’s born out of love for others but also a disdain for himself and that hurts

but anyway

then george dies when jonathan is only 19 and even though george was abusive to jonathan, jonathan still mourns him because he felt like he deserved that abuse. and to add salt to the wound, george dies in jonathan’s place iirc so jonathan just feels. awful. fuck god fuck. especially bc he died cause dio got obsessed with a mask JONATHAN left where he could find. obviously it’s not jonathan’s fault for real but this man will perform mental gymnastics to make himself out to be the one to blame because it’s how he’s lived his whole life and it’s how he stomached pain his whole life. it’s easier to take things if u think u deserve them

anyway anyway then part 1 main events. zeppeli, the only real father figure in jonathan’s life, dies, also in place of jonathan. i have no doubt in my mind jonathan feels like he’s a curse onto his loved ones at this point, if he hadn’t thought so earlier; a bad luck charm. after all, the later generations of joestar gotta get it from somewhere-

anyway this death does fuel jonathan enough to kill dio rather than any notions he mightve had of just dying heroically in the fight. esp because dio was gonna continue hurting people if he wasn’t stopped. so jonathan kills him rather than falling into a self-destructive fate

we see, when jonathan weeps over dio’s “death”, that he is sad over this death. most of this is bc dio was a brother in some measure to him since dio changed tactics of how he’d swipe the joestar fortune and became a little more amicable toward jonathan for a handful of years, as well as the fact that he now had time to properly mourn zeppeli/his father now. but i feel like another death he was mourning in this instance was less dio/his father/zeppeli, and more the death of his self-blame line of thought

 killing dio, a man who had become a symbol for jonathan’s self-blame and self-disdain, was a big stepping stone in jonathan’s healing i feel like. he’s gotta work on it obviously but i think at this point, when he had the guts to kill dio while also being self-preservative, he was ready to start trying to live for himself in addition to his loved ones. he was ready to unshoulder the guilt he had felt his whole life. he was ready to heal, because erina, speedwagon, and zeppeli showed him he had something inside him that was worth loving. and he might not have gotten it then but with time...maybe he would

he finally starts piecing a life together, a real life. he marries erina, he’s besties with speedwagon, he gets a new home, it’s good, it’s good, he is starting to become happy in life and happy he’s alive for the first time since he can remember

but then it turns out dio is not actually dead and he infiltrated jonathan’s honeymoon ship specifically because it was jonathan’s and he kills almost everyone on board while he’s there. erina is in danger again. a child is in danger. and much like dio was never actually dead, neither was his tendency to shoulder blame and self-disdain

basically, as a result of this jarring situation on a day that was supposed to be one of the happiest of his life, jonathan is thrown back to his 12 year old mindset; it was fine if it was just him. he can die heroically via fighting someone as vile as dio (which in my opinion is why dio even got the jump on him via the laser eyes in the first place; jonathan shouldve been able to dodge that........but w/e). but he can’t let this happen to the world. he can’t let this happen to erina. he needs her to get away from him and thus, the danger

and well, we know how part one ends. jonathan gets his wish. he dies alone with the person he hates most, having relapsed all the healing he had done. he dies a heroic death rather than a “shameful” one of suicide. he dies blaming himself for this mess, just how he had lived most of his life

jonathan is a tragedy. he is shouldered blame unfairly given to him from his father, dio, and he himself his whole fucking life. when he finally, finally has the chance to start healing and making peace with himself, dio kills him, and in addition to that, jonathan’s last acts are the results of a mental rebound from a healthier mindset to a unhealthy one, that culminates in his death. he is alone with the person who is representative of all that made his life shit when he dies

and dawg...it hurts so bad. fucking jonathan joestar

anyway this is why comments abt how nice he is make me so sad sumtimes, especially when it’s re how forgiving/”gentlemanly” he is. it’s bc he felt he deserved that hurt in the first place so of course he wouldn’t hold it against them. he’s kinda shocked someone would feel guilty over it in the first place, but he’s happy to forgive because he doesnt think a slight occured because he thinks he deserved it, which we can see in speedwagon’s introduction

anyway jonathan is as much of a tragedy as the rest of the joestars i need people to acknowledge this. im in tears

[normal-thoughts-official]

The world keeps spinning (it really shouldn't)

Vance did it. He defeated Josephine, saved his grandpa and Elliot, and saved the town. Everything's fixed.

No. Everything is awful. He failed, and now his friend- now Tom is gone.

And he'd rather fight Josephine all over again, because it'd be easier than what he has to do now- tell Andy about it.

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Relationships: Andy Kang/Tom Sato, Danni Asturias/Imogen Wescott, (dannimogen is background and very brief but i couldn't resist), Andy Kang & Ava Cunningham & Lucas Thomas & Lily Ortiz

Additional Tags: tom dies and everything is awful, Angst, Grief/Mourning, Friendship, for basic context im going with the version of ILITW that i got, which is that everyone survived and noah took jane's place, and then for ILB i did the version where tom dies obviously, (which is not the version i got), (everyone survived), (i feel the need to say this for my own ego), but anyway i was like what if tho. andy would be devastated, and then... this happened?, only difference from canon is that ILITW MC told everyone about noah a lot before, also like. imma be real with yall, im physically uncapable of giving my MCs serious names, so ILB MC was named That Bitch and i didnt want to give him a real name, cuz it felt like betrayal, so im just calling him vance for this one, is it his nickname? is he called vance vance? dont worry about it, Anyway that's it, Pining, you know. before the death part. it's mentioned, also we're ignoring the whole richard tries to murder MC thing, cuz i dont have time for that, so pretend ILB ended on chapter 17, Hopeful Ending, considering the theme i mean

Read it on Ao3

The city of Westchester looks exactly the same, but somehow feels a lot less wholesome, now. Vance walks in it and feels like a corpse among the living, like a ghost screaming to everyone that something's wrong. And being ignored.

It shouldn't look the same, without Tom.

But no one knows, yet.

He swallows, running a hand behind the nape of his neck. That's why he's here, anyway - they should know, they deserve to know, and he doesn't want to have the funeral without Tom's friends there.

Which is why he's going to tell Andy. Himself, in person. Because he might not know him very well, but he wants to do the right thing, and that's the least Andy deserves. He knows there's no one Tom loved like he did Andy, and from what he's seen of them together, the feeling was mutual.

He has to do this. But he feels sick, just thinking about that bond, and how it was ruined.

How could he let this happen to them?

He was so cocky, so stupid, so reckless... He thought everything would turn out okay. Assumed it would, even, because it kept getting him through it, to think that everything would turn out fine.

God. What a joke.

He walks into the little diner Andy had recommended. I'm sure you've heard of that place, Tom loves it, he had texted. We always went there to celebrate our wins back in high school. His stomach had churned, but he didn't say anything, because he wasn't going to tell Andy via text. He has to do this right. It's the least he owes him.

So he pretended that everything was fine, and agreed to meet him there. Woke up, and dragged himself to the place, trying to muster up the courage to face the world that seemed to not even care about his mistakes.

When he gets to the diner's door, he takes a deep breath, trying to ground himself for what he's about to do. Face his own mistakes. Face the pain he caused when he failed them both.

He walks in, and to his relief, and despair, Andy is already there. He smiles brightly when he sees Vance, and Vance wants to disappear.

"Vance! Nice to see you, dude. I heard about what went down in Pine Springs, glad you're okay," he says, not giving time for Vance to answer before continuing, this weird sense of calm and sympathy about him. "So, I assume you still need help with that ghost? From what I've seen in the news, it seemed like you handled it pretty well, but it's not like they are giving us supernatural updates or anything, so I figured there were still some loose ends to tie. Are the other guys coming? Where's Tom?" he looks over behind Vance, and Vance wants to die at the question. God, how is he going to tell him? He didn't really think about that, beyond the part where he has to. "I kind of thought you'd come together again. Bad move to come separated, Tom is always late to everything, I swear if it weren't for me he'd have been kicked out of the team for missing practice too many times. And I'm not the most punctual guy in the world, mind you, but I still had to drag his ass there so he'd be on time- is everything okay?"

Vance is a little shocked by the question. It's not, but what is he supposed to answer? "Andy," he says, a little careful, "things… went a little wrong, back there."

"Oh, shoot," he says, "I'm sorry, man, I kinda assumed, when I heard about how the flooding and the animal attacks were in full swing and then just stopped suddenly, that that was when you got rid of the ghost, you know? And seeing you all in one piece… I thought it was over already. Do you need help? I can round up the guys, and we can go-"

"No, Andy," Vance says, "the ghost is gone."

Andy looks at him, confused. "Then what's the problem?"

"Tom," he says, then winces when he sees all the color drain from Andy's face.

Andy waits for barely a second, then breaks into anxious questioning. "Tom? Why? What do you mean? Is he hurt? How bad is it? Did he have to go to the hospital? Where is he?"

Vance wants to cry. God. God. He can't do this. "Andy..."

Andy just looks at him, eyes wild, terrified, and it hasn't even hit him yet. "Vance. Vance. Please. What happened? Does Tom need me? Because if so, we need to go-"

"Tom's gone," he says, and it leaves him in a rush, a whisper, taking with it the last of his energy. He's empty, and somehow, it's still awful. "He's… he's dead, Andy."

Andy looks at him, eyes wide, unfocused, lost. "This isn't funny," he says. "If Tom put you up to this, knock it off right now. Tell him not to ever joke about-"

"Andy," Vance says, then swallows. "Tom wouldn't joke about that. You know that."

"No, he wouldn't, but..." His eyes begin to water, panic settling in, gaze darting across the room as if searching for him, "But… No. No. No, knock it off."

Vance starts crying before Andy does. "I'm sorry, Andy."

--------

Andy is in shock. He freezes in place, mouth hanging open, everything about him completely still except for his eyes, still so damn wide, still searching the place, searching Vance, begging for something, anything. Vance sits him back down on the table, gently, and Andy lets himself be handled back, eyes still not settling on him.

"I'm sorry," Vance says. "I… I promised you that I would take care of him. I tried, but… I'm so sorry."

"How?" he asks, "how could this happen? This isn't… After Redfield, when everyone survived, I just… I didn't think any of us could lose to another monster, I..." He shakes his head, vigorously, desperately. "This was supposed to be over. We were done, we were free, it was supposed to be over, we were all supposed to be safe, it shouldn't..."

"I'm sorry. It all happened so fast, I… If I had been faster, maybe..."

"Well, it's a bit late for that now," Andy snaps, and Vance bites his lip, not recoiling, because he deserves it. Then Andy stops, as if realizing what he had said, and for a second, his eyes seem clear again. He shakes his head. "No. I'm sorry. I… If there's anything I've learnt from everything that happened, it's that we can't point fingers when things get hard." He finally looks up at Vance, shaking, eerily still, nothing like the guy he was just seconds ago. He's wrecked, Vance thinks, and he wants to tear at himself in guilt. "What happened? Did he- did he drown, or… Did the ghost..."

"We were fighting monsters," Vance explains. "There were just… So many of them, and it all happened so fast, I..." he looks away, not daring to look back at the memory, not daring to remember the awful scene. As if he has to. Everytime he closes his eyes, it's back, punishing him. "We got his body," he explains. "Pine Springs is taking the victims to mass graves, but we wanted to give him a proper burial. I thought… You'd want to come."

Andy seems surprised, like that hadn't crossed his mind. "You haven't buried him yet?"

Vance bites his lip. "No. We're doing it tonight. We didn't have the time before, and… Well, I thought you'd want to be there. And I think he'd have wanted his body to be in Westchester, so..." He trails off.

Andy looks at him, hesitant. He bites his lip, looks away, then back at him. "Can I see the body?"

Vance does recoil, this time. He wasn't expecting this question. "I… You won't want to."

"What do you mean, I won't want to? I need to say goodbye to him, I-"

"Andy," he says, as gently as possible, because he deserves Andy's anger, all of it, but he won't let him do that to himself. "You won't want to remember him like that. His body…" He looks at Andy's eyes. He's still furious, livid, shaking, and he's lost, and Vance realizes that he doesn't get it, doesn't understand what Vance is saying, and this might be even worse than having to tell him Tom is dead. "It's torn to pieces, Andy. There's not much for you to see."

Andy freezes, for the second time that day. "Was he- oh, god," he looks at his own shaky hands, somehow even more in shock than before. "Was it… At least, was it quick?"

Vance starts crying again. He opens his mouth to answer. He can't. He chokes on the words, on his guilt, on his uselessness. "I'm so sorry, Andy."

------

Andy throws up. Once, twice. He doesn't insist on looking at the body. Obviously, he can't. Just imagining it- it's too much.

He tries to comfort Vance, because he- he's trying to do better, with his anger, with his impulsiveness, but all he can think about is how much he wants to destroy something, and honestly, the whole conversation is a blur. He punches the wall instead, once he gets home. And throws up. Again and again. Sends his friends a message, letting them know about the funeral. Cries. Punches the wall again. And again, and again, hoping that his hands will start to bleed, that he'll tear himself apart. His mom asks what's got him so angry, and he yells, "Tom is dead!". Her face twists in shock, and he can't look at it. He runs away.

Being back outside is almost worse. Everything- it should be in shambles. The whole town, the whole world should be on fire, fizzling, filled with screams and despair, like Andy is. He's never lived in a world without Tom before, never been away from him his whole life, and it shouldn't look like it's just the same. Everything should be gone, destroyed. And it is, but it doesn't look that way, and Andy wants to tear it all apart until it makes sense, at least.

He hates Westchester now. He hates it. God damn the stupid woods, and the stupid cult, and the fucking Power! God damn Andy for telling Tom about it, for letting him become this sort of- monster hunter, for believing that just because they overcame a ghost once, it would keep happening if they pushed their luck.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Tom can't be dead. It's impossible.

How can Andy still be standing, if Tom isn't here?

---------

He wanders like that the rest of the day, not noticing the hunger that builds up after going a whole day without eating, not noticing the passersby looking at him worriedly, not noticing the thousands of missed calls from his mom, not noticing anything but this awful despair. He knows the feeling of wanting to claw his chest off intimately well, but it's never been like that before. He wants to carve himself hollow. He wants to scream. He wants to run. And he runs from the all-encompassing nothingness, even though he has nowhere to go.

He goes from angry to empty, and then back to angry, all day long, and the day passes in a blur.

--------

Andy meets up with Vance and two girls from their crew. Their group was pretty small, he realizes. A lot smaller than Andy's was, all those years ago. Three years ago. Forever ago. Another lifetime. Just yesterday.

The cemetery is empty, but there's a grave with a black casket they're standing next to. "I thought all the cemetery crew was helping Pine Springs," he says, like he cares. Honestly, he hadn't thought about the logistics of this at all.

"They are," Vance confirms, serious. "You, uh… You know about Noah, right…?"

Andy nods. "Yeah, we, uh, reintroduced ourselves to him a little after you guys left." It was weird, to say the least. All that anger, all that betrayal, bubbling up again right when they had all started to move on from what had happened, to think that it was over… The urge to scream at him, demand answers… And then seeing all the hurt, and the confusion, and remembering that they had loved Noah, once, most of their lives, and that at the end of the day, the only one who had suffered from his actions was himself.

It wasn't easy to forgive. Not to Andy. Or Stacy. Or Ava. But they had been working on it. Maybe they couldn't forgive, much less forget, but at the same time, they couldn't get rid of that bond, either.

Still… "What does this have to do with… With Tom?" If Noah had anything to do with his death, Andy would kill him all over again. He doesn't care about his freaky powers, he'll die if he has to, but Noah will pay.

"He, uh, helped. Dig the grave and, uh, get a casket. That's how we got everything ready."

Oh. "I… I see," he says. "Is he here?"

"No. I told him you guys were coming, and he said it was better if he left."

"Oh," Andy answers. "I guess that's… Yeah. Still..." he raises his voice a little bit, in the direction of the woods. "Thank you, Noah."

He doesn't see or hear anything, not really, but still, somehow, he can tell that Noah is pleased. He can picture Noah's smile and that fragile little "friendsss..."

He sighs, suddenly exhausted.

Vance seems to notice, god bless his soul. "Are the others coming?", he asks, gently.

"Lily, Lucas, and Ava are," Andy replies. "The rest were out of town, and they… They won't make it."

"I'm sorry."

Andy kicks a pebble. "It's fine," he says. It's the kind of lie that's so absurd that it becomes true. Nothing is fine. It'll never be fine. So it doesn't matter at all, and it ends up being fine.

Vance seems to realize what's going through his head, somehow, because he looks unsure of what to say. Finally, he settles on, "uh, Andy. These are Danni, and Imogen," he says, gesturing to each of them, and Andy musters up enough energy to look at their faces while he does that, at least. Then, his eyes widen for a second, finally taking in what they look like.

"Wait, you're Imogen Wescott?" he says, a little dumbfounded. "When I heard that name, I kinda expected you to be, you know..."

"White and insufferable?" Imogen asks, a little smile directed at him, so gentle he can barely handle it. "Yeah. That's why I'd rather go by Genny, usually."

Danni frowns at her, slightly troubled. "You never told me that."

Imogen's smile turns a little brighter. "Oh, no, not for you, Danni. For you, I'd rather go by 'babe'".

Danni also smiles at her, and they squeeze each other's hands, and the edges of grief seem to turn just a little softer for them both. Andy can tell that things get just a little easier for them, just a little less grim, because they have each other. And he needs to look away, wants to run, because he and Tom… They could've… In a way, they were...

He feels like he's ready to run again. God, he fucked up so bad. What was he supposed to do now, how could he get better when the one thing in the world that always made him feel better was Tom? He lost him, he's gone, it's over, and somehow it hadn't hit quite the way it did at that moment, looking at that connection, that love that showed through grief. He averts his eyes, feeling wild and cornered, and turns back right in time to almost run into Lily - who looks devastated, and reaches out to touch his arm. Which feels crazy, because Andy is raw, and his whole body is bleeding, and rotting away, and who would touch him-

"I'm so sorry, Andy." She says, and Andy finds himself hugging her tight, and he feels like she should wither, die at his touch, suffocate, but she just hugs him back and pats him and Andy cries on her shoulder, and he's never cried in front of her before, much less like this. But he can't stop, he can't do anything, he's so heavy and dizzy and lost-

And Lily is stronger than they give her credit for, because she holds him, this endless weight that is him, even when he shakes and stains her sweater with tears, like it's nothing. She feels so solid, right then, the only solid thing in the world. She's got him, Andy knows, and it's like finally he ran into something he can take shelter in. He takes a deep breath, then another, and holds on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," is the first thing he says, maybe the only thing he knows how to say right now. Maybe this is how Jane felt, in the end - this endless spectre of regret, bigger than everything, than everyone, encompassing her and drowning her until it ate her whole and left her empty, with only the Power and its evil inside her.

He's so tired, but he's not empty, not yet.

He almost wants to be.

"Don't apologize," Lily says, so sad and sympathetic, and it takes Andy a moment to realize what she's even talking about. "I'm really sorry, I..."

It's only then that Andy's eyes focus enough to see Ava and Lucas standing a little after her, their faces twisted with sadness and bodies frozen in place. At times like this, it really is obvious that Lily is the bravest out of all of them, by far. Andy doesn't think he's ever cried in front of any of them, and Lucas and Ava look- completely lost.

Lucas is the first to talk, out of them both. His voice is very soft. "Andy, if there's anything you need..."

Ava interrupts, words leaving her way too fast. "We'll be staying with you tonight." She blinks for a second, frowning at Lucas. "Sorry, I, uh, hadn't realized you were talking." She looks like she just came out of a daze. She probably had been running that in her head for a while. Lucas puts his hand on her shoulder, and Ava runs a head on her neck, embarrassed.

"It's okay," Andy answers, even though her apology wasn't directed at him. "You don't have to, you know, watch over me or..." He trails off.

"We're not leaving you alone," Ava says, resolute. "You know the others couldn't come, but we all agreed that we should be… You know..."

Andy chokes on something he can't quite feel. He looks down at his feet, and he hasn't felt this small in years. "I… Okay."

Ava reaches out to him, hesitant, and gives him a little pat on the shoulder. Lucas starts rubbing his back soothingly, and, very awkwardly, they gravitate into a group hug. Andy can see the nervousness in Ava's eyes, the worry that she's doing this wrong somehow, like a hug is the most complex thing in the world, and he tries to muster up a little smile of encouragement to her, but he's forgotten how to do that. He doesn't know how to do anything, anymore.

Slowly, they separate, and all three of them still keep some sort of touch with Andy - even Ava, with her hand close to his shoulder - like they're trying to anchor him, but he drifts away anyway, lost in whatever it is that's left of himself.

Vance looks down at him for a moment, as if waiting for a signal, but Andy doesn't know for what, so he waits for Vance to figure it out. Finally, he says, "should we start?"

Andy frowns. "Wasn't there some other guy with you? Pork something?"

Vance, Imogen, and Danni all look at each other, uncertain, surprised, for a moment. It's Imogen who speaks up. "He… He left us."

Ava swallows. "Did he also..."

"No," she says, shaking her head, sadly. "He, uh, deserted the group."

"He what?" Someone asks, shocked, almost outraged, and when Andy sees the looks in everyone's faces, he realizes that it was him.

"He couldn't take it," Vance says, face twisted with sadness. "All the fighting, the monsters… He left."

Andy is shaking. Falling apart. About to explode. "When?"

Vance doesn't look at him. "Right before the final battle."

"He abandoned you when you were going up against the evil ghost?"

"He..." Vance begins, then finds that he has nothing else to say. "Yeah."

"How…" Andy begins, lost for words, and then it happens. He explodes. "How dare he!" He screams. "Tom was counting on him, he trusted him, he needed him, and he just left? He should have been there! He should have been there, he should," Andy looks at his own hands, in shock, watching them tremble and go out of focus, like there are tears blocking his vision, and he feels sick, on the verge of death, and he realizes that he's not talking about that guy at all. "He should have been there!" He slips from his own control, falling to his knees, covering his face, feeling shame, shame, shame, hatred, disgust. "He should… I should�� Oh God, I just let him go alone..."

"Andy..." Someone says. Maybe Lucas. Maybe Lily. Maybe the Imogen girl. It sounds so sympathetic. He wants to claw at his own skin and hide.

"I should have been there, I shouldn't… I had experience, what was I thinking..."

"Tom didn't want you to go," someone else says, gently. "I was there when you talked, remember? You didn't abandon him. You said you were going to come, and he told you not to."

"Tom.. Tom is not my damn boss," Andy answers, still covering his face, feeling the tears stop spilling and start to drown him from the inside, and god damn T, the least Tom deserves is for him to be able to cry properly- "I-I should have… gone," he chokes, shaking.

The next one who speaks is Ava. "He wouldn't have wanted you to be at risk, Andy."

"I don't care. I don't care. I'm selfish like that, I'd rather it was me. I could have helped him, I could have saved him, even if I had to- to take his place..."

"Andy..." is all Ava says, sounding shaken, devastated.

"Fuck!" He screams, punching the ground beneath him as if trying to punish the earth for taking Tom. "He would have never left me like that, I could always count on Tom, I could always..." he feels his chest constrict, or maybe burst, with all the tears and horror inside of him, like he's cracking from the inside. "Always..." he can't form the words, can't find the air, and he falls in on himself, more, more, more, closing in, suffocating, "always..." he can't breathe. He can't breathe. He tries to draw it in, to keep himself steady, but every time he tries to bring it in, the air escapes from him again, further, abandoning him, and he wheezes, again, again, closing in further, suffocating, oh God, he's going to die…

"It's a panic attack!" Someone screams, then kneels beside him, putting their hands on his shoulders. "Andy. Andy. Focus on me. You need to breathe. Deep lungfuls. Come on. I'll count to four. Keep breathing in. 1… 2..."

"Can't," he wheezes. It's too strong, like there's something… Something constricting his chest, inside and outside, and then he realizes… "Binder." He sits down straighter, no longer closing in on himself, and that awful vulnerability gets even worse, but it's easier to breathe. He follows the person's counts… 1, 2, 3, 4… Then up to five, then to six, then to seven, then eight… Until finally he doesn't need help, and he opens his eyes and contemplates the absolute mess that he is, and Imogen's kind, relieved face just inches from him.

"Good, Andy, you did well… I have these sometimes, too, I know how scary they are, you were so brave..." Imogen keeps on saying, painfully understanding, and he nods, a bit exhausted to explain. He didn't take his binder off all day, didn't remember… And if he wears it for too long, he's more prone to hyperventilating, especially if he's stressed. Tom knew that. Tom would have known what was going on. Tom… Fuck.

"I'm sorry," he says, to everyone, and no one in particular.

"Don't apologize. We're all glad you're okay," Lily says, and he realizes that, somehow, she had also kneeled beside him and brought him into another hug. He hides his face on her shoulder, shaking his head, trying to breathe. Breathing. She pets his head, a little bit, and he can feel some more touch, too - little pats on his shoulder and back, all gentle, not crowding him, like he's some sort of wild animal they're trying to calm down.

God, what a mess.

He holds Lily tighter, wanting to hide from the world. She lets him, because it's the kind of person Lily is. He feels himself drift away, for a while, but Lily's still petting his head and he can't lose himself completely. He shakes his head, wanting to fight it, almost wanting to get away from Lily, but he can't escape the gentleness in her embrace. He still can't cry, but he feels his eyes water and burn anyway, and he shakes his head against Lily's shoulder. He just wants this to be over. Please, he's so exhausted.

His breaths even, despite himself, but Andy keeps shaking, and he keeps shaking his head slightly against Lily. He wants this to end, it has- has to be a nightmare…

"Shh, Andy, don't hold it in, it's okay," Lily says, slowly, sadly, and Andy shakes his head more vigorously. No. He can't be weak right now, it's only going to make it last longer. He needs to end it, can't be done with this until Tom has gotten his goodbyes.

It's the least Andy owes him, now that there's nothing else he can do.

So, he speaks up.

"We should go on," he says, suddenly feeling resolute. It's easier to do this if he has something to focus on. He needs to see this through the end, for Tom. If he thinks only about that...

"Are you sure?" Vance asks, hesitant.

Andy nods, forcing his vision to focus. "He needs to rest."

----------

Everyone's speeches go by in a blur. Vance talks about how good Tom's heart was, how he was willing to drop everything to go help a bunch of strangers, how everyone could always count on him. He cries, and he says he's sorry, and the girls put their arms around him, tell him that he did his best. Imogen brings up how kind he was, and Danni talks about his strength. They really loved him, Andy notices, and feels his heart settle just a little bit. He was loved till the end. Of course he was.

Lucas talks about how supportive Tom was, how he was always uplifting everyone around him and would let Lucas babble on about conservation for hours. Lily brings up how much he believed in her and supported her when she was making her videogames. Ava says that Tom was the only one who ever saw her looking up Westchester's history and cults and just… Sat down with her and helped, understanding that she needed this to feel safe, to feel ready, and sharing that burden of getting ready for a disgrace, just a little bit. Andy never knew that Tom had been joining Ava for research. He could've helped with that, too. He could have done a lot of things, if he had paid more attention.

He's left for last, and a part of him wants to be a coward, to stay silent, but that was never his style.

"When Tom had turned into a zombie," he begins, "Redfi- Jane made him hurt me. And I wasn't worried for myself. I was worried for him. I wanted him back, no matter what it took, no matter what happened to me," he begins, not looking at anyone in particular, because he knows most of them already know this story, but he's not going to- he's not going to deny Tom the chance to know how he felt about him, before he rests. It's the least Andy owes him.

So, he takes a deep breath and goes on, pushing himself into saying something that matters.

"Then our friends showed up, and they said that Tom was still there. That I had to reach out to him. So I tried. I talked to him about our childhood. About how much he had been supporting me… How he was my best friend. He was hesitant, but so… Scared. I didn't know what to do. Tom and I always got each other..." He loses himself a little, shaking his head, purging the thoughts that were keeping him from going on, "And then someone said, 'Andy's hurt. H-he needs help'." He loses focus for a second, and that can't happen. He takes a breath, tries to make himself talk. "And just like that… Tom came back.

"He extended his hand to me, and helped me to my feet, and suddenly there was color in his face again, and for a second he wasn't even confused as to what the hell was going on, he just wanted to make sure I was okay. He came back because I needed him. Because he couldn't bear to hurt me. He was always there for me, and I… I don't think I ever needed him more than right now."

He stops a minute, to look at the faces surrounding him. There's a grief in them that looks almost like… Pity.

And Andy isn't even mad about it. He feels pitiful.

"I'm not the best guy with words," he admits, "so I don't know how to express how much this meant to me, or how much Tom meant to me. No one understood me like him. Tom is… Was… No, is a part of me. Maybe the best part of me, because I loved him more than anything else about myself. I'll miss him for the rest of my life." He looks down at Tom's grave, carved out of anything else to say. "I love you, buddy."

It's not the greatest speech that's ever been given, but it's what he can say, and at least he's done it. He'll be able to do better, later. He'll come back to talk to him again. As many times as he can, for as long as he can. He swears on that.

Andy steps back from the grave, and doesn't look as they slowly fill it, covering the closed casket with dirt. He finally allows himself to let the exhaustion catch up with him, and is overcome by that blissful, blissful emptiness.

---------

He's fully expecting himself to drop asleep as soon as they get to Ava's place. They decided to stay there for the night, because Andy still doesn't want to face his mom, to see that same grief in her, for her to want to talk to him, to tell him that everything would be fine. He can't do that, not today. At least Lucas had enough foresight to warn her of where they are, so she should leave him alone for now. Lucas is very reliable in a crisis, Andy thinks, making a note to himself to thank him properly later.

But he can't sleep. He's too exhausted to even rest. And for some reason, even though he doesn't want to talk, that's exactly what he found himself doing for the past few hours. Vomiting up all sorts of memories and thoughts, ranging from funny moments he had with Tom to all of his regrets, and Andy's always been kind of a stress-talker, but it's never been like this. He feels like he's been skinned alive; there's nothing to hold himself together, to hold anything at all in.

He cries all the tears he didn't think he had left in him anymore, and he curses himself, and the guy who left them in the end, and Noah, and the Power, and the cult, and himself again. He scratches his own skin until Lucas gently takes his hands in his, stopping him from doing more of it. And he talks, through all of that. Talks and talks and talks.

The words make him drift through memories, through states of mind, and he knows he's so damn volatile today, it's like he can't anchor himself to a feeling, but his friends put up with him anyway.

Finally, he starts to settle into this sort of… Slowness, like his mind is clear, or maybe blank, even as he keeps on thinking. And he keeps talking through it, letting all the minor regrets have their turn after he's too damn done to keep dealing with the worst parts.

"I never told him I was in love with him," Andy says, staring at the three empty mattresses in front of him, because it's easier than looking at any of his friends, who are currently sitting right beside him, as he babbles on. "I was going to, you know? After R- Jane. I had almost died, so I figured, you know- yolo, and all that. And then I told myself, 'I'll wait until I'm out of the hospital.' And then I started to think… What if he didn't feel the same way? What if things got weird? What if I end up losing him? And I never told him," he looks at his own feet, "and now I lost him anyway."

They all just look at him. They used up all the "I'm sorry, Andy"s left in them a long time ago, he thinks. There's only so many platitudes you can muster up when you know they're worthless, when you're just repeating yourself.

God bless them for trying, though. They're sticking with him through their own- everyone's inadequacy to deal with what's going on. Andy can't thank them enough for that.

"He knew you loved him," Ava says, serious, and Andy frowns at her, doubtful. "He might not have known you were in love with him, but… He knew how much he meant to you. I'm sure of it."

Andy laughs, humorless, "did you finally get those mind reading powers you wanted?" he says. It falls flat, but they pretend it doesn't, for his sake.

Ava rolls her eyes. "Don't be an ass, Kang," she says. "No. I just… I can tell. Anyone can."

Andy bites his lip, looking away.

She presses on, as gently as she can. "Besides, you also know, don't you? Regardless of anything else… Tom loved you, just as much as you loved him."

"I still love him," Andy says, before he can think about it, and a weird kind of shame creeps up on him - for saying it, for not saying it sooner, for realizing that this… It'll probably never go away, even now that it's completely pointless, that it's just proof of his cowardice.

"That's… Normal," Lily says, fiddling a little with her sweater. "You don't forget someone just like that, just because something happened. I mean, look at me and Britney. It took me years to get over her, and even then, I had to have supernatural forces show me exactly who she was, first."

"She didn't deserve you," Ava says.

"Maybe not. It doesn't matter now," Lily says. "The point is… It's okay to still love him."

Andy hugs his knees. "I don't think anything is okay, right now."

"That's okay, too."

They stay in silence for a moment, and then Lucas speaks up. "I know 'it gets better' stories don't really help at times like these," he says, "so I won't tell you that, but… I know what it's like, to feel like nothing will ever be okay, ever be enough. So… At least you're not alone, in that feeling."

Andy's mouth does something. It's not a smile, but it's what it can do right now. "Yeah. At least it's not like last time," he says. "With Jane. We all fell apart, and… It felt really lonely, even though..." He chokes up. "I had Tom."

Lucas rubs at Andy's shoulder sadly, and Andy shakes his head.

"It's just that he didn't get it, you know? And I couldn't tell him, about what happened," he says, instead of thinking about how much worse this is, no matter how many friends he has by his side right now. "So I… Missed you guys." He finishes, ashamed.

"We get it," Ava says, solemn. "And we're sticking with you, this time around."

"Yeah," Lucas agrees.

"Yeah," Lily adds.

"Okay," Andy answers. "I… Thanks."

They hug him tighter. It's all they have to say.

[uncertaininnit]

Clingy duo headcanons for my dear anon Stella and also for me and my sanity and everyone else who wants them. P sure like none of these are completely original but like. I put my own brain into this. (Also I am listening to my huge amalgamation playlist of like every song I’ve likes since like 6th grade on shuffle so the tone of this may or my not be all over the fucking place) It’s important to remember I’m not a writer and so this is gonna sound awkward as FUCK. So.

My VERY FAVORITE Clingy duo headcanon to ever exist is the idea that they are very physical in their affection. Sometimes it just bubbles up in my mind randomly and I just grin stupidly. So here’s this.

(HOLY FUCK WHY AM I SO BAD AT DIALOUGE. GOOD STORIES HAVE DIOLOUGE AND I HUST FUCKING CANT)

I think maybe Tommy and Tubbo had met before this time?But idk so lets pretend not k-

(irl headcanon) When Tommy and Tubbo met for the first time, the hugged. Just a long hug. It was nice. They had known each other for YEARS, and were finally meeting in person. It was weird, seeing each other in person. Very awkward at first. But then Tubbo smiled his smile, the smile of Tommy’s best friend/ Tommy is put at ease, and practically lifted Tubbo up when he enveloped him in a hug. 

(Jesus fuck, am I not a good writer this is so awkward um anyways)

Before Tommy asked Tubbo if he could stream on his computer, “for the vlog!”, they just talked. Tommy met Teagan and Lani, which was slightly awkward, and Tubbo ushered him into his room. They talked. Just about anything they would talk about normally. It was still weird at first, but as they slipped into the rhythm of their normal conversations, it felt the same. They were the same people.

(What even happened to physical affection lmao its harder to write it into irl ill do more when i say my shit for dsmp!clingyduo)

After Tommy kicked Tubbo’s PC and accidentally fucked up his stream, he felt terrible. He didn’t mean to fucking KICK Tubbo’s computer! He hadn’t wanted to make his first impression on Tubbo’s parents ‘the kid who broke their kid’s computer’! But the computer was fine. Tommy kept apologizing while they were trying to get it to turn on, worried about what Tubbo would think of him. 

But of course, Tubbo is very very nice and forgiving and understanding. He put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Hey- Tommy,” he said, snapping Tommy out of his panicked spiral. “It’s fine! Why don’t we go to the beach or something? For the content?” He adds, nudging Tommy with a grin on his face. Tommy lets a relieved smile spread across his face as he grabs his phone, “Sure, big man.”

damn. that was bad. i cant write dialouge for the life of me. isnt this supposed to be headcanons? why dont i just write them like, i dunno, headcanons? anyway. dsmp time. maybe there wi;; actually be physical affection involved??? i really meant to write in shit i wanted but it didnt make sense like narrative wise

i dunno what the family dynamic is going to be? so i’ll vary. also cant fucking do bullet points on browser. fucking tumblr. anyways

the idea that tommy just found tubbo. playing in the park, in a box by the side of the road, chasing bees in a feild. he saw him and went ‘that boy looks like someone i want to go through EVERYTHING with. i want him.’ and just takes him as his own. 

they are like 6 or something because baby duo awwwwwwe

“THIS BOY,” he grabs the boy in question’s hand, “IS WITH ME NOW.” He turns to beam at him and introduces himself. “HI! I’m Tommy!” Without missing a beat, the other boy introduces himself right back. “Hello! I’m Tubbo!” 

He appeared to accept his fate as Tommy’s new best friend as he unlaced their fingers and went back to chasing around the bees. (I guess I took the idea of a field and ran w/ it lmao) Tommy furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why Tubbo wasn’t scared. Wilbur taught him to never provoke the bees, they could hurt him if he wasn’t careful. Normally he’s happy to jump into danger but he always listens to Wilbur when he’s serious. (hahahhaha sneaked some v sweet big bro wilbur into this)

“TUBBO?” Tommy yelled, “What are you doing?” 

Tubbo ran back over, smiling. “Playing with the bees! I love bees.” 

“But... can’t they sting you, with they asses? Aren’t you worried?”

Tubbo smiled, grabbing Tommy’s hand again. “They never sting me!” He giggled, dragging Tommy through the field. “Come on!”

Despite his former skepticism, Tommy lightened up and ran with Tubbo, as Wilbur, who had been giving slight supervision, grew worried. Eventually he was satisfied and got back to his book. 

Tommy and Tubbo finally ran out of breath and tried to catch breaths through their fits of giggles. Tommy released Tubbo’s hand and INSATANTLY got stung by a bee. FUCK WAIT IN SATAN LY I FUCKING CANT SHDGJDBSBGD anyway

INSATANLYSHGF

As soon as Tommy released Tubbo’s hand a bee landed on him and just drove that pointed ass into his arm. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?????!?!?!???!?!!!?!??!?!” He yelled before bursting into tears.

Wilbur, suddenly alert as fuck, sprints over with his long-ass legs and bends down to comfort Tommy, only to find him buried in the arms of another little boy. The one he had been running with a minute ago. Tommy sobbed into the boy’s shirt and yelled, “WHAT THE FUCK! I THOUGHT YOU SAID THEY WOULDN’T STING!”

“I said they never stung ME before. I don’t know why they stung you. Does it hurt that badly?” Tubbo replied as Tommy hugged him tighter.

(the pov really said ---------------^^^^^^^^^^^^^--------, the ^ being a weird-ass change. we didnt need a singular paragraph from wilbur’s pov but oh well)

Wilbur kneeled down, “Oh come on, Tommy. It doesn’t hurt that bad. You’re just a fucking dramatic little bitch. Come on.” Wilbur grinned out an apology to Tubbo as he reached out to grab Tommy to try and get him home and composed. 

Tommy ducked away, holding on to Tubbo tightly, and Tubbo giggled again and smiled up at Wilbur. “Can I come?” 

“YEAH!” Tommy jumped up in excitement, “I WANT TUBBO TO COME WITH ME!” 

Wilbur looked around, not seeing anyone who appeared to be in charge of Tubbo. It looked like he wasn’t going to be able to get Tommy to budge without bringing Tubbo along. He sighed.

Tommy and Tubbo linked arms and sang and they walked home. Tommy forgot almost instantly that he was ever stung, much to Wilbur’s annoyance. 

adbhvejw they are so sweet. glad i figured out to write link halfway through. maybe its easier to write babyinnit and babybo. idk. anyway sorry this took so FUCKING long and here it is

[shuatoyou]

Can I request a seungcheol breakup 🥺 but like a “cut off ties on both ends” breakup

this one made me cry a bit... y/n i got ur back. i hope u like this i didnt mean to make it as emotional hahaaa *awkward laughs*

seungcheol x reader

angst

warnings; none

wc; 968

a/n; i wrote this one with correct grammar rather than making it lowercase like i usually do... i wonder how it looks.

How do two people go from promising to spend an eternity together, how can certain feelings fade away so quickly. How does that work? Do you ever stop thinking about him when he’s sat right across from you at a restaurant your friends dragged everyone out to?

It gets easier.

“I don't want to hurt her though.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

The words muffled behind the door but you were certain of one thing, you were the subject of the conversation and your boyfriend Seungcheol was the speaker. You stepped away from the door, you weren't a fan of eavesdropping and you felt hypocritical right in this moment.

The door opened causing you to jump as well as revealing a shocked Seungcheol.

“Y/n..” he called out softly worried in case you had heard anything earlier than he intended you to.

“Hey, I'm going out to do some grocery shopping” you quickly revert your expression back into a smile however Seungcheol’s sigh of relief doesn't go unnoticed.

“I’ll come with you” he walks past to put on his shoes so you follow to do the same, it's bad enough  your hands bumped into his as you both reached for the pairs of shoes that were coincidentally right next to each other but it was worse when you realised the air was awkward. It would've been something you guys would have laughed off and joked about before but things were changing slowly.

The walk to the store was the exact same except he had been trying to start up a conversation asking about your day which you replied to with short answers. Another thing that would've processed as a lighthearted conversation before. You were sad. He was sad. Over how much time did everything fall out of place. Things were not the same and Seungcheol was in the same boat as you emotionally. The two of you were aware of the changes to your relationship, if it could even be called that anymore.

Shopping got frustrating quick because you two were just bickering over the smallest most irrelevant things like what kinda coffee the other liked better because suddenly him and you were both hellbent on proving you knew the most about each other. Paying was another issue as you held up the cashier with your back and forth about who would pay (he did in the end).

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol begins first again, something he’s been doing a lot.

You look up at his taller figure in confusion. Before sighing and looking forward again, “Are you?”

“I don’t know” he shrugs

“Yeah me too”

It's silent for a bit but not the comfortable silence you would have treasured back then till you decide to speak up about the one thing lingering around in your mind.

“Who were you talking to earlier?” you inquire and Seungcheol comes to a halt so you stop with him. “It was about me wasn't it?”

“Yeah.” he admits.

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Here?” He pointed out the obvious which was being in the middle of the road.

You shrug. “There's a bench right there.” you speak out walking to sit down on said bench with him proceeding to do the same

“So..” you look around, almost as an excuse because you didn't want to meet his eyes.

“Do you remember when we first met?” he blurts out almost catching you off guard with his sudden need to reminisce.

He needed to know you were aware there were happier moments.

“Who could forget the day Chan ended up in the hospital with a broken foot and we had to pretend to be his very young parents.” you giggle, shaking your head at the memory and hearing the other beside you laugh too. That was probably the first time you had both heard each other laughs in a while.

“Things were so much more different back then,” he whispers.

Both of you kept your gazes locked on the hazy sunset, good for you because you were sure one look at the boy and the tears would run free.

“I don't want to hurt you Y/n”

His words finally direct your gaze to his closed eyes.

“You could never hurt me Cheol.”

He opens his eyes and finally faces you too.

The two of you search eachothers eyes and expressions secretly hoping for something to hold on to what was the point?

“Change is inevitable” you sighed as his hand reached out to hold yours and you simply allowed it.

“At some point we all realise people stay in our hearts but not our lives. I'm grateful to have had your heart until now. But we both know it's not the same anymore” he's smiling at you painfully waiting for you to finish your words almost aching to pull you into his embrace

“I can’t believe we’re about to break up on a bench with bags of kimchi next to me.”

You laugh at his words, a few tears escaping your eyes that you’re way past wiping.

“It wouldn't be a SeungY/n break up if we didn't go out with a bang.” you exclaim.

“I know…i'm going to need some time and i know you will too” you squeeze his hand before letting go, heart aching at the thought of this being the last time you would be able to do any of this.

“I’ll always be there for you y/n”

The words play in your head like a broken tape. I’ll always be there for you but suddenly we’re strangers.

Truthfully, it wasn't the break up that hurt, it was the constant wave of flashbacks reminding you both how happy you once were.

Like you said. “Change is inevitable.”

[kpurereactions]

May a request monsta x and/or ateez reaction? When they have a crush on you but don't know? Like... would they make it obvious or just be shy and do nothing.. idk.. something like that 😆

(keep an eye out for Monsta X :))

Hongjoong:

It would be hard to tell when his feelings flip since he’s such a big hearted person. He wouldn't tell you at first, hed want to create memories for you of him that would linger so when he finally did tell you how he felt you're feelings towards him would all be fond. Hed start with simple yet thoughtful things; Bringing you food, texting you goodnight, visiting you when he sensed something was wrong ect. Hed slowly get more bold, getting you flowers, waiting for you outside so he could open doors for you ya ya ya. He’d start inviting you to more things and would try to whine cutely to make you feel bad after you had said you were busy. It would feel like all his focus was on you, but never would it feel over bearing. When he finally did confess to you you would already be head over heels for him. 

Seonghwa:

He would probably try to hide his feelings for as long as possible as rejection from you would be the last thing hed want. Hed grow shy around you, blushing harsher at your jokes and getting nervous when you chose to sit next to him instead of another member. Hed be the exact opposite when you weren't around, though. If you were FaceTiming another member, eating with another guy or anything that didnt involve him directly hed grow sulky and would even go as far as to snap at his friends. Hed finally confess out of frustration over something you ‘did’. Lets say you went out with your friends, he would wait up all night and once he thought it was too late and too dangerous for you to stay out hed blow your phone up. When you'd confront him hed say “Its because I Love you okay!?” like you were supposed to know that. 

Yunho:

Hed make it so obvious he liked you. Hed follow you around and not think twice about it. Hed try his hardest to make you laugh as hard as you could and would always praise and support little thing you did. When you were sad would be when he would show it the most, though. Hed show up randomly, hug you tight, bring you something to make you smile and when you were feeling better he would touch you gently while smiling with kind eyes. Hed make you feel safe and happy with out even really trying to cause that reaction. Hed become a rock for you without you even realizing why, and you'd realize he would never have to tell you he liked you because his actions would do that for him. 

Yeosang:

Hed grow so shy it would become unmanageable for you as in you would notice something right away. You would try to figure out why he was acting so weird but it would eventually cause a little bit of distance to form between the two of you. You would think he all of the sudden started to hate you and vice versa. Even though this was happening he would still do little things to make your life a little easier. Hed do things like put your keys in a place he knew you wouldnt forget them, plug your phone in if he noticed it was dying, and leave you more to eat if you seemed hungry. The two of you would eventually have to half a talk, which would probably be initiated by you, and as soon as you pressed hed answer you with ‘I was just so nerveous about how much ive grown to love you’. Oh and yeah, he would ramble so you would get to shut him up with a kiss. 

San:

A lot like Hongjoong, San would make you fall in love with him. His constant attention and flirty things he would do at first would seem like a gag, as if to play a game. Hed be one to be super flirty at first, but the more you seemed to accept his gestures and not laugh them off the shyer he would get. Like when he stuck his face close to yours and tucked your hair behind your ear he would grow quiet and lean back with a slow smile when he noticed you blushing instead of pretending like you hated him touching you. The game would start as him getting you to like him, but would end with him just falling deeply and madly in love with you and all the cute little things you do. 

Mingi:

He wouldnt even think to keep the secret of him developing a crush on you a secret. He would start saying things like “Why? because I like you thats why.” and “What do you mean! You're perfect for me!” But because it was Mingi you wouldnt take him seriously, and he knew that. There would be a point, though, and I cant decide if its when something sad happens or when something happy happens but he would just go for it. Hed kiss you before telling you and when he confessed he would have a mental list of not only the reasons why he likes you but the reasons why you should like him back. 

Wooyoung:

He would start doing more just so you would notice him, becuase even though hes confident he wanted to just really make sure you saw him. He would start doing things a little bit louder, funnier and yes, sexier than the other members just so you would notice that he was all around the best fit for you, as if it was a competition. The thing about Wooyoung though, and it would probably take a while to catch the hint to do this, but if you ask him if he liked you he wouldnt try to lie and play it off. Even if you were around other members he would confess as soon as you asked because to him, even though he might get made fun of, you were more important than the teasing and he really wouldnt know how to tell you any other way. 

Jongho:

Jongho would be pretty honest with his feelings. He would tell you you were pretty, that you look nice so on and so fourth once he realied how fond he had grown of you. He wouldnt be afraid to hell his hyungs he liked you either, be he wouldnt do it to get advice, he would only do it to let them know he liked you. He would start getting more playful with you too, hed chase you around and catch you by the waist, poke your sides out of no where and sit there like he didnt do anything and make ugly faces at you when you were trying to do something serious. He would wait for the right time to tell you he liked you, but it wouldnt take that long since all he felt like he had to do was catch you right before you decided to leave. 

Kitty

[rockets-and-raccoons]

My mum knew when I was really young that I wasnt straight. Not that she consciously recognised it. I was the child she constantly told that love was love. I could love whoever I wanted and that was okay. I was the child that was constantly told by my parents that gays deserved rights and that they would always love me no matter what. I was the child they excitedly told when gay marriage finally became legal.

I grew up repressed with severe internalized homophobia issues. To the point where to this day I still severely struggle with it.

My grandad doesnt believe in gay rights. He thinks it's a phase. That these people are ill. The village I grew up in was very Christian. Being gay was wrong. It was disgusting. Gay people needed serious mental help (ironically half the people my age that grew up there have turned out to be part of the lgbtq+ community).

I went to high school in the neighbouring city. Where everyone around me talked about how disgusting being gay is. The fear of a gay person in the changing rooms was talking about constantly. Gay adoption and marriage was considered wrong. Liking people of the same sex was considered disgusting and uncomfortable.

I was terrified everytime I had to get changed for pe. I was terrified to just look at other girls. And it didnt help that the majority of my friends were boys. I didnt spend much time with girls. The one girl I was good friends with- was suddenly the source of rumours. Everyone at school knew before I did. Talked about if before I accepted it.

She's gay.

I denied it. I didn't believe I was for a second. Did everything I possibly could to prove I wasn't. And yet for my last 2 years at school everyone made jokes about my sexuality. Told me I was gay and in love with my friend. (Maybe I was. Maybe I wasn't. I refused to process my emotions properly back then.) They joked about how I was only straight until I was horny. That I was so obviously gay. But it was a joke. A mocking thing that made me feel so horrific that I did awful, horrific things to prove everyone wrong. Things I have to live with, that i hate myself for. Just becaus every time someone suggested I might be gay, all I could think of was 'it's so wrong.' 'Its disgusting' 'its cruel to children to be raised by gay parents' '1 in 5 people are gay, I sure as hell hope it's never going to be me' 'nobody wants to be gay, it's an illness.' 'I cant be around gay people, they make me uncomfortable' 'they'll stare at you in the changing rooms' 'they'll force themselves on you'

I still cant share a bed with another girl without being terrified. I cant be in the same room as another woman getting changed - I havent had to deal with PE in a decade. Havent heard those whispers in a decade.

Every time I become friends with another girl I'm terrified of what will happen when they find out I'm gay. I can't connect with them properly.

And sometimes. Sometimes I just truly hate myself. I hate the fact I find women attractive. That I'd rather spend the rest of my life with a woman rather than a man. Sometimes, often, I still find that disgust curling up in my stomach.

It doesnt matter that I dont live there anymore. That I now live somewhere so open and so easy to accept everyone and anyone. It doesnt matter that I've admitted it to myself, my family, and my friends. That I tell people so easily, I'm gay.

I'm still terrified of what would happen if people from my home found out. I still hear their conversations. Their mocking words. I still feel the effects of their homophobia. And sometimes I still wish I could pretend I was straight.

I was lucky to be born into such an open and accepting family. But by god, I wish I'd been brought up where I live now. I wish I didnt lie in bed hating myself so much at times. I wish I could be at peace with who I am. Rather than wishing I could go back in time and somehow change myself.

I remember telling my mum I was gay, and her not understanding why I was so distraught. Because 'you should know by now I love you no matter what' - and I didnt know how to tell her society, my friends, our community, were all going to despise me. Hate me. Tell me I told you so. I told my dad minutes after he said he wished his daughters were gay bc he hated dealing with the heterosexual drama and boyfriends. He couldn't understand why I was crying, because he wanted gay children. He had told me my whole life he would always love me no matter what. I was free to love whoever I wanted. And I didnt know how to tell him the world made me feel like I was disgusting and wrong and my existence was even worse than that of rapists.

And my grandpa, who I dont get on with, who doesnt really like me, who I was sure hated the gay community (and he has since admitted that if it was years prior he would have disowned me over sexuality) emailed me to tell me he was proud of me, that being gay wasnt wrong and he had been wrong about how he felt about the lgbtq+ community.

My grandad still thinks I'm going through a phase.

My best friend came out to me in tears, telling me he wished he had known we were both struggling, so we could have at least had each other.

When I finally told my other friends. There was no 'I told you so's' suddenly talking about sexuality wasnt a thing. It was a taboo topic nobody wanted to deal with. The girl everyone joked I was in love with, slowly disappeared from my life.

It's funny until it's true. And that's when you really realise the jokes were really, truly jokes. They didnt believe what they were saying. They just enjoyed the rise they got out of you.

And when I think about being a teenager. Despite the fact its ten years long. The only thing I can truly remember is the internal and external homophobia. Everything else feels hazy. The good times. The bad. It's all a fog that's over-taken by the self-loathing that I still carry.

I wish I could tell my teenage self that it gets better.

I wish my parents would believe me when I tell them I dont blame them for living where they did. We couldn't afford to move. They loved me, they love me, and that's what matters.

I wish I hadnt spent so long chanting 'I'm not gay' before bed. Because I knew from the age of 13, and spent the rest of my teen years in denial. Telling myself I was wrong.

But then I see my sister. My sister who is 10 years younger than me. Who had a big sister come out when she was just 8 years old (I came out at 18, yet spent a further 2 years trying to prove I wasnt. I came out too early. But I figured myself out. Accepted myself more, with the help of my family, and my best friend). She has grown up with more progressive media. Has moved to a more progressive place. Hell, her school has an lgbtq+ club. She has one (1) straight friend. She came out as bisexual at 12. But the older shes getting she thinks that her male crushes were caused by heteronormality and she thinks she might be gay. And shes open. Shes proud. Shes unapologetic in who and what she is.

I think about my self hatred. My self-loathing. About my internalised homophobia. I think of every night I spent lying in bed thinking 'One in five people is gay, it's not me. It won't be me. I'm not gay.' And I look at my little, wonderfully, unapologetically herself, little sister. And I think, that every struggle I've ever been through is worth it. If she gets to feel proud of herself because I've come out. Because my parents had to move bc of me. Because I've done everything I can to support her. To love her. To pretend to love myself for who I am in front of her.

Every day I struggle, I think to myself she doesnt have to. I'm one of the last millennials. She's gen z. And shes not my kid. But theres such a large age gap that I feel that generational difference. And I can't have children of my own. And suddenly, I find myself understand what my parents mean when they say that their suffering was worth it whenever they see us gain something out of it. Making things easier for someone you love, for someone so young, it makes it almost feel like it was worth it.

That trauma is going to stay with me. But my coming out too early, is what had my sister questioning her own sexuality. And it happened early enough in her life. She was questioning it before she hit her teens. She told me she knew she liked girls before she hit ten. But she wasnt too sure what that meant. And she wa worried because biphobia in our family is bad. But the we moved away. And she was watching adventure time and steven universe. And I was suddenly openly accepting myself and flirting with girls. And making jokes about my sexuality. And she came out. So young. So proud. And my parents were accepting of her bisexuality (albeit worried about how the rest of the family would react). And I did what I could to support her. Buying badges and flags and taking her to pride. And now shes come out as fully gay and I'm so happy and hoe safe she felt her journey has been. That at 15 she isnt scared to tell her friends (and they're not afraid to tell her). At 15 she might actually have a girlfriend. And shes been to pride. Goes to pride.

And I am so, so proud of her.

I would love to go back in time and tell myself that it's okay to accept who I am. But I cant.

But my sister grew up knowing it was okay to accept who she was. And my coming out helped my best friend accept who he was.

I didnt have any lgbtq+ friends growing up (that I knew about). There were no clubs. No tv shows. My only support was my mum and my dad.

My sister has a club. She has our family. Her friends. Her school (no awful changing room comments. No snide remarks) She has an open and accepting community. I feel so relieved that she'll (hopefully, pls universe, be kind to her) never have the same experiences I did.

[zachsgamejournal]

PLAYING: Thief Gold

Alright, making progress. I hate the Tomb Raider levels. They're not bad, I just want to rob houses, not wander confusing caverns and dodge fireball monsters. I'm sad I haven't experimented with the tools more, they've proven useful and could have saved some heart ache before.

The Haunted Cathedral is exactly the kinda of level I'm not wanting to play in Thief. It was like Down in the Boneyard...kinda. It was confusing and maze like. Plus there's zombies. You can't knock out zombies. While the level is interesting, and a good design for a game about exploring ruins--that's not what I want to do.

Much of the game has reminded me of GoldenEye 64. Mostly that each mission has multiple objectives and those objectives change based on the difficulty. Actually, the that fact has made me feel like playing on normal is causing me to "miss" things about the game. BUT, the levels are so long at the moment, I may save Expert difficulty for when I inevitably play this again. Anyway, GoldenEye similarities. The Haunted Cathedral felt alot like Statue Park. It's filled with rubble and non-sense. I kinda hate that level in GoldenEye, just as I didn't like this one.

Weird stuff in Haunted Cathedral. There was a lobster man with pincher hands. He was down in the sewers. So I stayed out of the sewers. There's also ghost mages, or something. They whisper weird sounds, and it's freaky as hell. I got a little confused about what to do at the end...so I looked up a guide. The level had taken me awhile...

Mage Towers were a bit easier. At least, getting around. While it's a large level of four towers and middle strongholde, it's not that confusing. Plenty of places to hide, and the guards didn't mind walking through the dark all that much. BUT, I got a little confused about how to proceed. Apparently the water tower was unlocked, but the only clue I saw to that was in a note found in a locked tower, accessible only post water tower. Hmm...

Once in the towers, it was pretty easy to figure things out. Some interesting platforming elements. Supports my feelings that platforming always makes games better. I wasn't sure how to escape through the sewers. Apparently I forgot to check the guards for keys.

Learned some new things: Jumping is faster than walking/running. And every sequential jump in the same direction boosts speed. Clearly a bug, but a useful bug. I learned the parchments I've been picking up are actually letters and notes that can be read. Wonder how much I've missed? And I also learned that when I get an object from a chest or box, the game doesn't show me what I get--including key items. All this caused some confusion.

I gotta say it. I wish this was open world. It would work much better if it was open world. ;p

Next mission, The Lost City, once again doing exactly what I don't want. Exploring confusing environments with a near worthless map. The above ground city area was kind of nice. It's interesting to let you start there, emphasizing that this forgotten city is right under a populated urban center.

There's actually some interesting platforming, but it's confusing with multiple paths leading to the same places...but different parts of the same places. To my surprise, I was able to find the Talisman. it did REQUIRE a rope arrow. By the way, rope arrows are cool. But because the level is so freaking confusing, I spent an hour going in circles trying to get out. I had to watch a playthrough so I'd know where to go. This is why good maps are important.

Then came the Song of the Caverns. Immediately I was immediately depressed. But the map was actually quite linear. Could..could they actually be taking it easy on me? I ran into more Pincher-Lobster men, but they can be knocked out via Black Jack! It took no time at all to find then Talisman's hiding place.

But it was gone...

It wasn't a hard level, but it took forever to explore, and the upper levels were filled with guards and loud floors. I hadn't even explored the while level and lost interest. I tried reading a guide, but it also was confusing.

They weren't taking it easy on me, they were tricking me. Jerks. Wandering through the cave I find a crazy dude. He was saying non-sense so I knocked him out and climbed out the caverns. Now I'm on the streets and I have to break into a theater. Interesting concept--but jeezus, this place is huge! And semetrical. It took forever to explore, plus there were tons of guards, like waaay too many guards, like...it's a theater where people watch people pretend to be other people, why are there so many swords??

I decided to just run around randomly, seeing what I could see. I found locked double doors, guarding by two doors. I was also being chased by 8 guards at the time, so they killed me quickly. But I decided this is where I needed to be.

I quickly made it back to the double doors, but getting the guards to move away so I could knock em out took forever. These guards really didnt want to leave their post, and they seem extra sensitive to my presence. For the first time, I decided to use flash bombs. After a few failed attempts (often blinding myself) I figured out how to best utilize the flash bombs and get in. I really regret not using the tools at my disposal more.

So I found the thing, but I couldn't remember how to get out. I found myself in a whole new area. WHY IS THIS PLACE AO BIG! I fell out a second story window and lost 65% of my health. Ah well that was enough. I completed the level.

[limbodouman]

⟨ WONG KAHEI. CIS FEMALE. SHE/HER. ⟩ though the mist might prevent some from seeing it, LIXUE KARISMA LIU is actually a descendent of H E P H A E S T U S. it’s still a question of whether or not the TWENTY-TWO year old BIOMEDICAL ENGINEERING MAJOR from SHENZHIEN, HONG KONG has taken after their godly parent completely, but the demigod is still known to be quite CHARASMATIC & INTENSE.

Yeah its Min with the second character. This time Ill try to keep it short and sweet 

CHARACTER BASICS

Full Name: Lixue Karisma Liu

Nickname: Karisma, XueXue, Little Liu

Age: 22

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Ethnicity: Chinese

Nationality:Hong Konger

Education: High School Diploma,

Hometown:ShenZhien

Divine Parentage: Hephaestus

Written Aesthetics: Hands covered in ink and grease, poprocks sparking in ones mouth, the sight of a small light frame,a loud scream from atop a carousel, An angry face clutching a thread bare teddy bear 

CHARACTER APPEARANCE

Face Claim: Wong Kahei

Height: 5′3

Hair Colour: Varies

Eye Colour: Brown

Dominant Hand: Ambextrixious 

Distinguishing Features: Cleft Lip and scarred eyebrows

BIOGRAPHY (bullying tw) 

It was quick and whirlwind, the romance that it is. Karisma’s mom has been a nursing playing pool she whispered some tricks to help the god win. She didnt think much of it. He was nt half bad to her. 

She did get pregnant and headed on maternity leave. Somehow by luck she met a fellow doctor during her pregnancy, he fell for her and was willing to take care of the kid

That would be easier said then done as the kid was more rambunxious then intended. Always running around and piecing things back together. They thought it was the terrible twos but little did they know it was much more

 (Tw)They enrolled Karisma in private school, hoping that a quality education would help her find her way through life, sadly she did get made fun of for any little thing. One school mate even asked why she smiled so oddly. 

She buried herself in other hobies manly robotics and metal music. She was able to find a few friends but she was well aware she wasn’t liked by many. Even her friends admit that sometimes she seems a bit too strange (Tw end)  

All that would change when she as trapped by a monster. She experience her senses flaring up as they never had before. Karisma was struggling in her net when the figure snarled at her and muttered the words I got you little demigoddess. And why was her smile so crooked, just like her father 

Thats all it took for her to set the net on fire. There was white hot flames she herself never experience. She just remembered setting the monster aflame before running. She remembered running fast and heading home. The subway only made her ruinmante. 

Karisma was angry, confused, and scared. She started crying to her father as she confessed the events. It was her mother that finally came clean with the truth. The man she knew all her lief wasnt her father but someone else. When Karisma asked for his name, her mother admitted he only went by H and hasnt contected her since.Only a satryr intruppted her line of questioning.

The satry tried to explain better than her parents about the demigod hood but she was placated enough to come with him. Karisma looked at her parents in disappointment- she really wished they told her soooner. 

Camp Halfblood was diffrent though. There was something that contrasted against the colder private school she went too. The minute she entered the gates the ends of her pigtails set aflame in excitement. She was able to talk to more people without judgment. Tough the question remained who her father was,

The claim just happened, seeing the iron hammer over her head. She felt a lot of emotions but anger being one of them. She as secretly hoping for Hermes or Apollo but she got the one with the temper. One that she didnt realize she had. Sure she was to get close to them but the first night she slammed the door and hid under her covers screaming. 

She grew to realize that Heph was her father and that maybe he had reasons to not tell her. In a very strongly worded letter she asked why, her father replied a year later. For your protection. Please understand. Se was hesitant to write back since. 

Of course she went on quests. the heph id with the flaming hair and sharper tongue. She liked them but wanted to be a leader instead of a big three kid. 

Now that shes in college she accepted some things to a degree. Though she found a new outlet to get her anger out: Metal Music 

PERSONALITY

Appears very eccentric but is actually a no nonsense type. She is very blunt and genuine with her feelings. A scary critic especially when it comes to obscure music genre and mechanics. However she will help you out, just don’t expect a smile on her face. Very few people have seen her smile due to past instances of being ridiculed, and opts for a half smile.  Is self-conscious to a degree, but not to the point she won’t show her face. Pretends she knows what she wants in life despite the reality she’s just as confused as everyone else. Overcompensates. To those that dont know her she can look very tough or even haughty, but she doesnt care due to judgement. She knows shes a Heph kid and proud of it, it doesnt mean she wont try her other pursuits before she graduates.

POWERS

Pyrokenesis - this is fire strongest power yet its very emotional based. With Karisma’s application, she has used for thermal, melding, and sometimes destructive purposes. She has also used it the way of effects during her performances with her Experimental Metal Group- The Demi-Disasters Hence her Stage name Red Hot Karisma . Primary weakness however would involve the water and freezing point.

Trap Sensing - This is her second most strongest abilities. She can sense and disable traps within a mile distance. She developed this at a younger age, when she was walking through the subway and the capital city. She can’t sense every trap such as those blessed with other god abilities.

Techenkenis - Very limited due to her personal lack of discipline and patience. She can communicate with her own devices, but other peoples devices takes days even months to figure. Rather than use her own power she prefers to use her own instincts.

Enhanced Combat - Very defense like and agility like tactics. Can be on the offense but makes her feel odd doing it. Has some informal training on weak points of the body courtesy of her mother.

OPTIONAL INFO

Extracirculars:

TBD 

Housing:

Hephaestus hous

Connections:

Half siblings 

best friend

course mates

rivals 

Members for her group the Dem-Disasters

People to debate and argue

ees and ohs the whole shebang 

More stuff coming soon

[unicyclehippo]

I'd love to see 31 in that prompt list you just reblogged with beaujester!

oh i bet u would What A Surprise

31. “Can I kiss you?”

//

she’s been thinking about it for a long time. since it happened, really, and constantly for a while after that. and then, at some point she can’t quite place...she had thought less and less about fjord kissing her.

saving her life?

saving her life via kiss.

the thought had come back in a big way for reasons she’s not ready to think about yet so here she is—standing with burning cheeks and trembling hands in fjord’s room, waiting for his answer.

he was clearly polishing his sword—not a euphemism, though now that she thinks about it she giggles. the laugh takes on a hysterical note and that’s what gets fjord up on his feet, breaking out of the stunned fish look. with a flick of his wrist, the new sword is gone and he crosses the room in a few long strides. hesitates for a second before settling his hands on her shoulders.

‘hey,’ he says, so gently, so kind, in the way he always is when it is just the two of them, ‘what’s wrong?’

she shakes her head. ‘nothing. just—you can say no, if you want, i just thought—‘

‘jester,’ why does he sound sorry? pitying? is she pitiful for asking? his hands are calloused, warm, as he lifts them to her cheeks. ‘you have to give me a second to catch up. you want—‘ he flushed a little. ‘you want me to kiss you?’

‘i—‘ she leans forward until her forehead knocks against his sternum. enjoys the way his arms settle around her shoulders, hug her. there’s something not quite right about it, he’s being too careful about it like he’s not sure he’s doing it right, or that he should be, and it makes jester itch all over. is it too much to ask that she can be held? hugged? kissed? why does it never feel right? ‘you saved me,’ she says. it’s easier when she can’t see his face. ‘you kissed me.’

‘i—yeah. i did.’

‘were you just saving my life? or were you kissing me?’

she can almost hear his heart, beating away steadily beneath new muscles. maybe that’s why it feels wrong. she knew him, met him, when he was slimmer, less muscular, and she wonders if that’s why it doesn’t feel quite right. if it’s something she has to get used to again.

‘i was saving you,’ fjord says. ‘i couldn’t let you drown. you—we’ve been a team from the start, jes, i couldn’t.’

jester nods.

fjord’s hold lightens a little as though he expects her to leave. when she doesn’t, he hugs her a little tighter and that feels better. more comfortable. she shifts so her cheek is pillowed on his shoulder and sighs.

‘i think...i knew that.’

‘are you upset?’ he asks quietly.

‘a little, maybe.’

‘okay. can i...do something?’

‘answer a question?’

fjord’s hold tightens a moment, then relaxes. ‘yeah. anything,’ he says, and he sounds like he means it. really means it. it can be hard to tell with fjord but even as jester thinks that, she realises that she trusts him with the deep, unshakeable faith she allows for very few people.

‘do you want to kiss me? do you want—‘

‘do i want you?’ fjord asks. she knows what the wildmother sees in him; the warm, the gentleness of the waves on the beach. the sting of salt in a wound. ‘not like that. i love you, jester, i��i hope you know that, i hope i’ve done well enough to show that. but no. i’m sorry.’

she has a lot of questions but mostly they boil down to: do you want someone else? or do you just not want me? but she hasn’t the energy to ask it, hasn’t the fortitude now to hear the answer. it isn’t that she’s upset that fjord doesn’t want her—which is new and novel of a thought, because she was sure, sure that she loved fjord in those big grand romantic ways and to feel very little more than disappointment is...confusing. she’s just tired. tired of not being wanted.

‘okay,’ she says, and hugs him tighter.

‘okay?’

‘yeah. okay.’

it takes a little while but eventually the tension runs out of fjord like a tide, pulling away bit by bit until it reveals the covered shore and she thinks despite the faint hurt and disappointment she might be happy with what she has found in its place. happy with the fjord that hugs her tight and presses a kiss to her hairline, gentle and full of a love jester thinks she’ll always need.

eventually, she steps back. wipes at her cheeks where a few tears have spilled over. fjord offers her a handkerchief—‘such a gentleman,’ she teases, and accepts it.

‘you want...tea? or a nap? or...’

jester smiles, not quite her typical brilliant smile but a good one nonetheless. ‘no, it’s okay. i’m gonna...i’m gonna go read under the tree or something. draw something for the traveller.’

‘okay.’ fjord opens the door for her, walks her out to the landing. he starts down, toward the kitchen, before stopping a few steps lower than her. ‘jes?’

‘mhm?’

‘what—made you come to me? and ask?’

can i kiss you? jester remembers saying to him, almost frantic with the request. it had felt like life or death in that moment, like she was chasing after something vital, something she needed.

jester’s eyes slide down past him, down to the room where she had been before. the training room, packed down hard with sand, and the training dummies. where she had been watching beau fight with potent focus, where she had sat beside her friend, and where they had somehow been drawn closer and closer on the bench as they spoke and plotted how to prank nott or maybe caduceus, he’s a solid good sort, in an effort to get yasha to laugh—or maybe smile, jessie, beau had said, with an awkward tilt of her head, seeing as laughter might be like a second step or something. break the proverbial emotional ice with some light smiles first. the smile beau had offered up was small and sweet and ripe with mischief as she talked about what a really bad fucking idea it’d be to prank caleb, and jester hadn’t been able to look away. how had she not noticed—

‘jes? did something happen?’

jester’s attention darts back to fjord, looking like he’s about to climb back up to her.

‘nothing bad,’ she tells him. ‘i don’t think.’

‘do you wanna talk about it?’ he offers, scratching at the back of his neck. ���i don’t know if i’m the right person for it but—‘

‘would you be upset if i asked someone else?’

fjord’s expression shifts quickly—the concern washed away by surprise, and then a momentary dark glimpse of something she can’t place, so quick that jester thinks it hardly belonged to him at all. finally, calm settles and she can see nothing but curiosity glinting in dark eyes, like light off capped waves. he smiles a crooked smile, the tip of a tusk peeking above his lip.

‘someone got you in a tizzy,’ he deduces. ‘and you came to me.’

guilt hits her like a tidal wave and jester grips onto the bannister, pulls her bottom lip into her mouth to worry at it.

‘i—yes, but i didnt know, i didn’t realise—i wasn’t using you, fjord, i wasn’t—‘

‘jester,’ he cuts her off, ‘i know.’ he loves her too. she can see it. the deep affection, the adoration, has never been more obvious. ‘i don’t think you’re capable of that. nah, that’s not true. you could do anything you wanted. but i reckon you’d never do it.’ he appraises her silently, then adds, ‘i’m here for you. whatever happens.’

jester smiles, this one trembling. ‘thanks,’ she says, a little choked.

//

she gets a peaceful half hour or so in the garden before someone raps on the door, presses it slowly open. she’s only a little surprised to find that it is beau peeking into the space, blue eyes lighting up when she spies jester seated by the traveller’s shrine cad had made for her.

‘hey. missed you at dinner. fjord told us you were up here, didn’t want to be disturbed.’ she steps in cautiously, ready to leave the instant jester asks her to. ‘i brought up something—just some stew, it’s weirdly good, cad’s a great cook. and,’ with a flourish she produces something that looks like a blueberry but is the size of an eyeball. ‘xhorhassian sweet. it’s a berry, i think.’ she looks at it a little nervously, before shrugging. ‘i’d offer to try it first, but i’m immune to poison and shit like that. i can make nott eat one first, if you want.’

jester laughs. ‘i’ll risk it,’ she says, and beckons beau over. it only occurs to her when beau is approaching that maybe it isn’t a good idea when everything is so close to the surface of her thoughts. but beau is already sitting and handing her the bowl. she lays down next to jester, easy and relaxed, folds her hands behind her head and stretches her legs out long, sighs happily.

‘i love these lights,’ she admits. ‘they’re beautiful. and not just because everyone else around here can’t figure out what the fuck we were on when we grew a tree outta the top of the house.’

jester grins. ‘yeah.’ she glances down, eyes flicking over the play of the light over beau, over her oddly serene face, over her lovely brown skin, the shining flicks of brocade to her new uniform. ‘beautiful.’

beau tenses.

jester lifts her eyes to see her friend watching her intently, but though the tension doesn’t ease, beau says nothing.

jester eats. pretends to doodle in her journal, trying to decipher the warmth in her gut at feeling beau beside her, the warmth of her skin, the slow even breathing, the occasional odd murmur as she shifts, pulls an annoying pebble out from under her back.

‘can i kiss you?’ jester blurts out after she has finished her dinner and set it aside.

beau’s knee jerks in her surprise and then her abs are bunching and she’s sitting bolt upright. she opens and closes her mouth a few times and then says simply, ‘yeah.’

‘yeah?’

‘if that’s what you want.’

jester frowns. ‘what do you want?’

beau looks like she doesn’t know what to say again. her shoulders press back—less of a shrug than a nervous shift. ‘i want...you to be happy.’

‘beau.’

‘i’m serious. i’d—do a lot to make you happy, jes.’

jester ducks her head, unsure of what exactly she’s feeling. happy that she got a yes, but everything else beau says makes her wary of taking it. it isn’t quite appeasement, but...

‘i’m not good at talking,’ beau says. shifts not closer but so she’s turned toward jester. ‘i’m—not great with wanting things. i’m kinda...a selfish asshole.’

‘beau, that is not true,’

‘i mean, it kinda is though.’ beau puts her hand over jester’s mouth so she can’t disagree. it’s silly but all jester can think is that even this small contact is right, is good, is terrifying but in this weird, nice, bigger-than-nice, fizzing, and did she mention terrifying kind of way. ‘hold on, i’m trying,’ she continues, and jester forces herself to settle. beau kinda looks like she’s going to puke, or maybe panic. ‘i’m—fuck, okay, i guess we’re doing this—i’m into you, jes. in a big way. and i’m okay with having that in, in whatever way you want. i’ll be your best friend, your roommate, your—protector,’ she says in an oddly stilted, awkward way jester realises is shy. it makes jester want to scream all of a sudden because she doesnt know what this is, where all of this is coming from, how she didn’t know that beau could be like this, be so endearing and warm and noble. she wants to scream because it feels like too much and too little all at once—beau is right there but it feels like she’s too far away, like there is this great yawning chasm between them and jester doesn’t know how to close it, how to cross it.

jester reaches up, slowly, and peels beau’s hand from over her mouth. turns so they’re seated alike, cross legged, knees to knees.

beau looks like she’d rather be anywhere else, holding herself so firmly in place that she’s buzzing with the effort of it. she looks peaceful and terrified, and it’s strange to see her own feelings reflected in beau, who sometimes seems entirely alien—brave and strong and brash and, and lovely.

‘i don’t know everything i’m feeling,’ jester whispers.

beau nods quickly. ‘yeah, yeah, of course, it’s fine, i’m okay with—‘

jester doesn’t know what she’s okay with because she sets her own hand over beau’s mouth. ‘i’m not finished.’

beau rolls her eyes. settles. ‘that’s fair,’ she says, words muffled.

‘i don’t want—‘ jester gulps. ‘to ruin anything.’ she thinks about the chaos crew and girls night and late nights with beau in their room and reading her romance novels together and shopping and thinks about fjord and— ‘can i kiss you anyway?’ she asks, feeling the bite of being selfish instantly, and beau’s eyes lose that little bit of tension in the corners, go sky blue with warmth.

jester’s breath catches in her throat as beau lifts a hand and instead of taking jester’s hand away as she had done, beau holds it close for a moment, kissing jester’s palm before she lifts it away. the touch of it feels like a burning brand, like somehow her hand is buzzing with life, with energy, like beau has made it—jester’s brain stutters over the analogy for a second, because it’s too big and too much, surely, but the words come anyway. beau’s kiss makes her feel divine, worshipped.

jester is still trying to wrap her head around that when beau leans in, traces her fingers down jester’s cheek.

‘yeah?’ she asks, holding back.

jester nods. closes the distance. so that’s how she does it, she thinks, and then she is kissing beau—beau is kissing her—and this, this feels... this feels. she can’t say right, she can’t say too much, she has nothing to compare it to, the way her heart feels to beat too fast and stop altogether, both at the same time. the way she goes hot and cold, and all her world closes down into where she is touching beau and being touched by beau. a hand on her cheek, the still-burning kiss on her hand, her own hand on beau’s neck, the skin so soft and the short wispy hairs that escape from her top knot tickling against her fingers, and beau is kissing her.

[delicioustrashlove]

To me : a honest open letter to my self. deep breath and open up and express 

What do you know . You went back there again and all though you held on super tight you couldn’t keep him could you? Of course not. You’ve lost your self every-time chasing him and you’ve never been able to catch him.

I thought I wouldn’t survive this one. I thought honestly I was not going to make something of my self . I whole heartedly was ready to give up . What ever happened happened and I could care less it’ll never be as bad as losing you. And I truthfully connived my self that my happiness only lied in your arms.

It took me so long to cry . Once I got back Colorado the reality of my new home, it was such a blur . For a while I pretended you died. To some how help my heart forget you. And thats all I wanted was to forget you. I deleted every picture and every single video .I blocked you on everything I could think of that youd have access to talking to me through . And for what . Just to black out once a week and tell you how much  I miss you and that I love you . I drank my self silly . I mean every event every party every outing I had to be there I had to be anywhere but in reality . Because reality meant no you. It meant what once was and will never be again,, reality meant excepting my feelings. And I wanted so badly to be tough and strong. I’ve gotten my heart shattered a million times by you , you’d think I would get easier . It didnt it was worse . I was so fully invested in you that life didnt exist with out you in it . I didnt know what that felt like anymore . I was so wrapped up In you so blind to reality . Loving you meant losing my self . I lost my self 4 times a year for 5 years trying to keep your heart. I broke my own heart letting you back in to my life so many times . I knew better . But the love I had for you was so much stronger . I couldn’t stay away . I also revolved my entire world around you , so when you where gone I felt so literally like the world was ending . I lost my whole life . I realize now thats not healthy . You have to always prioritize your health and well being before anyone . You have to love you before you love anyone. So wed break up id self destruct then Id put all my pieces back together the ones you broke. Id fix my self and I would get back on track I was moving on I was happy then just like that . One phone call at 10pm where you clearly to drunk to remember the conversation id be on a plane. Drop my job my home my family My friends … quite literally everything just to be with you . Just to love you. All I ever did in this world was so unconditionally love you. I thought I could hate you I did for a while . But I dont anymore . You where apart of my journey and it almost killed losing you but it was supposed to happen . It was part of the plan that god has for me. You coming int o my life brought so much love and bond that ill never feel with anyone else . I will never love someone the way I let my self love you. And when the lesson has finally been learned only then I can move forward to the next chapter. And your purpose in my life was love and lots of lessons and lots of growing . You think god doest hear your heart crying you think he gave up on you ya know , but he never did. In the end you’ll see there was such bigger picture. 5 years I spent going back to you and leaving you. Why did I always go back ? Because loved you but I clearly wasn’t seeing what god prepared for me. He wouldn’t believe his lessons or fallow his guidance so he kept bring ing me back to you so I could relearn and remember why I left and well you might be my soulmate your not meant to be in my story forever . Only a couple chapters . And once you’ve served your purpose to my life that god wants me to have experienced and learned I will be able to move forward. I first must let you go . And I finally am starting to. I got so unhealthy and so sad and so stuck and caused so many health problems to my body . So much that was almost to much to prepare. But I made a choice one day . I chose my self , and not you. I chose to love me and not love you anymore. I commented intently to my family and I mean really gave it my all. I learned that no matter what my parents wouldn’t never leave mom behind .and im going to everything in my power to be a good girl to them and build our love and our relationship . And I think that was gods purpose all along. You cant keep whats not for you . And I didnt understand that when we parted ways. I accept that now . And I know as I continue to stay on the right path god has such beauty waiting ahead for me… look how much I loved you and all I did for you imagine how much I will love the right man. I did alot. Every time we break up I have to fix my self . But I know now its all apart of the journey . All those trials with you just made me stronger it made me braver it made me wiser and it made men grateful for the good ones.  You breaking my heart was one of the best things to happen to me in the end. Because I never would stopped loving you I never would have left you behind. I would have always been your biggest fan and continued to love you till I ended up hating my self. You have the courage to set me free was the kindest thing you ever did for me. At the time I didnt get it but who I am now and what I ve accomplished for my self and how when you try really hard to be better and I mean really hard things kind of fall in to place. God smiles and says okay you deserve this you’ve learned you’ve grown . I manaaged to accomplish that goal of being close to my family . We are so close and we love trust and respect eachother so much . Our bond is very very strong . I managed to get my self too a doctor , I found out I complete sabotaged my health . And oh ya I have 14 allergies !!!!  And some of the effects of those allergies after time has caused a harmful build up to where I was 3 years away form being diabetic , my thyroid completely stopped working . Amplifying my anxiety and my depression . The last month. I was in az i would get sick a lot . Id eat something and get sick . The problem was I was so fuxking drunk all the time I didnt ever thing anything of it. I’ve destroyed my guy and its a blessing that wildly and randomly this doctor asked if she could test me . And we found a lot of issues and also got a lot of answers to a lot of my health issues. Im starting treatment for that . Ill be injecting my self every other day with medicine to help my body repair the damages I have done and it will also help fight allergic reaction and build immunity so this doesnt happen again . I also !!! Am taking my meds again . Different ones but im glad I chose to take this chance on them again . I figured if im going to  put my health and happiness first I dotn need to be drinking and If im not drinking a lot fo stuff is going to come to the surface and I don know how well ill be able to handle that reality. I also like I said thought. Was going to kill my self. I was so heartbroken so so so sad. I knew I needed help and I reached out and got. Now im happy and stable and I get out of bed and I have energy and im so present and to active. I work out everyday . I eat healthy and I lost some weight . My highest weigh t was 168 before our florida trip I got down to 147 , when worked for Linx I was 145 then after being with tj again my mental health went hay wire and I lost my self again . Completely lost. And when I got back to co I was 153 pounds …. I would shift from 145 to 147 … then I just stopped worrying about it and started doing something about it. I channeled all my sadness in to exercise . Im sad go work out im bored go work out im happy hey go work out get that good flow !!  Your angry you miss him what ever it was I worked out then it became all I could focus on cus I learned to love it so Much . I took on running again I put in the work . Things finally where falling into place . I was getting my self back and this time it was better then ever . Better then ever before . I unlocked this door and its been so beautiful. I one day weighed my self just to see assuming id be 145 I was 137 !!!! Wow !!! A week later I was 135 and today I am 133!!!!! Its so cool and feels so good to not be depressed not feel pretty in my clothes. And iliv Amy self. So much . I hope I start working at hooters soon and continue to have a great life. I finally got approved for unemployment and ally back pay and also and extra 13 weeks after mine runs out. Things are just happening . I wasn’t going to get any hadn’t outs . But I was at the bottom thats for sure and you know who was there ? Not tj not the guy you literally did everything for no not him . My mom and my step dad and my brother . They took me in . And it was hard and uncomfterable , but I just stopped going out stopped drinking as much . And did things for them no matter if they where mad at me or if it was awkward.i committed to being good fo them . And I knew it would take time . But little by little ive managed to accomplish all my goals . When I used to be the queen of quitting. I cant wait to see even more of what god has in store for me. And who I become . My skins cleaning up my body is losing weight I more active im healthy and im very in touch with my desires and my well being . I care and love and respect my self so so much. Its like a huge spiritual awakening. I love being alone . I dont feel like alone deserves me right now to be honest .Its gong to take a lot for me to love again but its okay . Not everyone deserves that form me anyway. I worked so hard to me this . To be who I am right now and I won’t let anyone take that away form me. You cause harm to my heart my well being just by !! If you disappoint me disrespect me or hurt me its done . You lost you dot meet my needs your not benefiting and there’s to many many and women on this planet . Ill never waist my time on the wrong one . Ever again. I respect my self to much to put someone over me! And I stand by that now and forever!!!  The new be is bette then ever and its gong to take a hell of a person to change my relationship status . And that cool im honestly not even interested . I dont care to date or hang out or hook up or even have sexual contact with anyone . Im so content with me myself and this beautiful transition im goin through I just want to focus on me and my family and my health. Because this is what its all about. This is what living is. this is life. This is beauty . This is whats important. I feel like im living . And im happy and im only going to get better and better. Thank you god for this life and thank you for giving me the strength to turn the page and start a new chapter on life. I fully trust you and the processs. And that brings me back to “god will never leave you behind” I needed to learn all those things that all may mistakes have taught me . And god has a way of constantly bringing things back Into your life if it has not yet served its purpose or taught you what you needed to learn.  I see that now. Positive mind set is very powerful . Loving your self is amazing and living through god is the best thing you can do . I will always you tj and I will always in some way wish there was a me and you forever .but I cant ever betray my self like that again. That door is officially closed.  See I thought my life was over when you said our relationship was over. But really it had just begun. Everything happened for a reason exactly how its meant to happen . Losing you meant I could finally find my self. It just lit up the path .  God bless <3 no angry  im happy and im I accept this and I forgive my self and you . Life is so Beautiful .

Some one very wise once said … -Life is not about how much you hurt its about how much your willing to suffer. ~VP

Im not willing to suffer any longer.  Except it feel it and then forgive and move forward.

[stillwooozy]

well my mom is having heart surgery, or idk a stent put in her heart - isnt that heart survery? Anyways shes getting better so thats good.

Ive been playing chess w/ my dad but my 10 yr old brother can beat us both so my dad isnt pissed at me anymore. He lost to my brother so he yelled at HIM for “having an attitude” and i felt bad. sore loser much? I’m competitive as hell, but only for things i know im objectively good at. He admits he isnt good at chess. I’m kinda surprised cuz ngl my dad is smart and my 10 yr old brother is..... 10. But i guess my dads intellect manifests as writing ability and my brother is advanced in math sooo... maybe chess = math? Idk. They are still forced to quaratine cuz they have covid, i doubt i’ll get it but i’ll get tested when they do again. My dogs are going crazy cuz i cant take them to the park.

My mom will come home in a few days. I’m actually excited/relieved. Usually i dread seeing her cuz she always finds something to critize me about but now im just happy she isnt dead. Haha hashtag-compassion. Shes on a bunch of drugs but shes off a venilator and sounds okay. she tested negative for covid so shes done with that im pretty sure. Shes getting a stent put in. I tried to talk to a doctor cuz she was being vague but he wouldnt tell me anything and im like :/ i get it but... i wish they would make my life easier, im the last person who should act as a husband/parent figure but here i am. My dad is pissing me off - if he cant control a situation he gets angry & ignores it. Straight up. I WISH i could do that but i have a guilty complex instilled by my very own mother.

One of my brothers i watching attack on titan so thats pretty interesting. he’s 12 and i was like... um isnt that too young? But i was 13 when i watched it so i guess not

My mom told me if i picked up her meds after i pick her up from the hospital she’ll give me half her painkillers and was like “but dont OD”. I mean im not going to turn them down. Me - turning down tramadol? What reality would that be. she’s a weird woman. I feel bad for her, she blames everyone else for her problems including me but ik she loves me. even if she hates part of me at the same time. A part of me is convinced that ill die by drugs if i never manage to kick the habit but i’d also feel really bad knowing she’d blame herself. I mean its almost comedic how dysfunctional my family is. She goes full Karen begging for opioids, then gives her mentally ill son half the pills as a reward. hey - positive reinforcement i guess? Good for her. Dont hit ur kids - just give them drugs when they are being a good little boy.

I think i’ll watch AoT w/ my brother. Hes the sibling i probably ignore most. him and my 10 yr old brother. I like my 6 yr old brother and my 19 yr old sister. I mean i love all my siblings but come on..... 9-15 yr old boys are batshit. i say this from personal experience.

I asked him if he liked Eren x Mikasa cuz idk. Isnt that what most basic shonen preteen boys are into? I forced myself to read eremika hentai when i was about his age. He’s a nice jewish boy too, so 50/50 chance he has an east asian fetish. You want to know his reply??? “No I don’t see anyone as a couple they all seem gay to me - no offense”. None taken brother ... i have to agree

i was flirting w/ 2 girls on tinder - no worries im not going to spread covid i promise - and i’ve come to the realization that....... why do most “alt” girls SAY they want a bi boy to “peg” but...... get uncomfortable when that bi twink actually gets fucked by men. like what??????? they just want a boy who wears flowery blouses and eyeshadow. sorry hun i’m not that person. I look like mac demarco if he was a twink in the worst way possible. I hate this trend cuz its insincere or maybe im just self concious cuz im gross. its just....... u cant ask for a bi bf...... but not really want them to ever have fucked a man????????? Grindr is disgusting but damn tinder girls are judgemental. I look like david dobrick if he was gay & mentally ill - what do u expect of me? I just miss my ex. She was unusal and im just fully appreciating that. She was the only person (beside my ex who pulled a lil peep before it was cool) who matched my type of crazy. Unfortunately 2 crazy ppl can’t last long.

To clarify i dont tell ppl, i never will, that she was “my crazy gf” or “crazy ex”. I dont mean it as a fully bad thing - i mean im the one on antipsychs (she was on lithium.. what a romance amiright). I miss her so badly. I think about texting or calling her everyday. Honestly idk if she would answer. Maybe she has moved on. We both have a minimal (public) social media presence so i cant stalk her online. she just posts memes & social justice stuff on her sc. she didnt block me from any platform. I pretend she found this blog and can stalk me & i hope she feels bad for me - pathetic right? It wasnt even a bad breakup. We were never on the “same page”, not that type of couple or chemistry, but we enjoyed being together and i miss that cuz atm i have no one but my mentally ill family. jk my siblings are surprisingly sane. I mean the younger ones have time.

[weareallfallengods]

Flight from Grace Chapter 1 - A small stumble

The long-awaited complete 1st chapter of my WIP novel! I started this over 6 months ago and I’m finally getting into the swing of it.

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm. 

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, and she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit.

===================================================

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn't going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so... ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don't need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my 'attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn't have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn't actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn't dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don't seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn't too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn't sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don't know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don't mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can't quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

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

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don't see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I'm so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it. 

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don't even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don't worry! Neither do I! ”

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

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could. 

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway. 

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don't look behind us!" 

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I'd be used to it by now. 

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don't get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually. 

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm. 

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound. 

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of. 

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did. 

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure. 

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about...that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night. 

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise. 

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck. 

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?"

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn't fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it's postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it's whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too. 

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It's thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore. 

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage. 

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn. 

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again. 

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important. 

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?” 

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me. 

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first. 

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart. 

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long. 

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives. 

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in. 

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again. 

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still. 

“What the hell is it doing?” 

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just...stop like that. It didn't make sense. 

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet. 

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”   

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. . 

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down. 

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused. 

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

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

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

"It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll do for now. It's kinda cold- I don't think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least."

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

"That was...was that...I don't even know where to start. My brain's been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?"

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh. 

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now. 

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a...sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen. 

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much. 

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals...see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see...something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it. 

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for...what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent. 

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was. 

=============================================

Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @Neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @Alice-and-Cheshire-cat @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaidiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command. 

[kiruuuuu]

Doc/Lion oneshot in which Lion absolutely can’t get enough of Doc. (Rating E, pure filth + fluff, ~4k words) - written for the ever so wonderful 1ce_09 on twitter ♥♥ Everyone who hasn’t already, check them out for beautiful Siege art! Thank you so much for commissioning me, I enjoyed myself :)

.

If anyone had asked Lion a year – hell, months – ago which part of the day was his least favourite, he would’ve said waking up. Throughout his life, the only consistently good thing staying with him has been how easily he falls asleep and his ability to only wake up once fully rested; he sometimes thinks it’s a genuine blessing he received, a rare show of mercy of which he’s ultimately undeserving. Even when his mind worked overtime, even when there was an oppressive weight on his soul, even when there was no reason to get up in the morning, he drifted off like a lazy, oversized house cat napping in the sun. In rare moments, he idly wonders whether this ability hasn’t saved his life at some point, granted him this little bit of energy he needed to get through the day, gave him enough hope to trudge on and eventually sparked his endeavour to make it up to those he wronged.

And then there are his dreams. They’ve always been vivid, abstract, hard to grasp, but as a child he could always pinpoint at least a location or a person, something concrete which gave him an indication of what was on his mind at the time. After – after Claire, after colourful pills and pieces of paper with cartoon characters on them and a few other things, his nightly visions became even more obscure, swirls of colour, evoking emotions whose vibrancy stays with him in this twilight between waking and sleeping, a half-doze in which he’s disembodied yet conscious. He enjoys their embrace and despised nothing more than the afterimages being violently ripped away from him by a shrill alarm.

These days, he doesn’t mind it so much. The reason for his change of mind is as fortunate as it is unbelievable because of all its facets no one could’ve predicted, especially not him: It’s someone he loves (and he’d given up on this particular idea a while ago). It’s a man (and while he’s fooled around with some of his friends before, it was largely born from spite and the thrill of the forbidden). And of all people, it’s Doc.

It took him months to come to terms with the realisation that his infuriating colleague never really left his thoughts because of a fierce desire to impress him, not because of personal dislike. Doc is revered wherever he treads and when Lion earned his ire, it was much easier to pretend the negativity dictating Lion’s remorseless remarks and actions towards the other man stemmed from disdain and not disappointment in himself, not from a knee-jerk reaction to the realisation that Doc would never see him as an equal now.

It took him even longer to finally act on it too, reach out and attempt to rebuild the bridge Doc had destabilised and which Lion had spitefully burned in response; it required endless conversations with Bertrand as well as the rest of the GIGN, a worrisome amount of self-reflection, and uncomfortable, tough admissions.

But he managed. Looking back, it’s amazing how much he turned his life around, how much he achieved with the help of those around him and indubitably help from above, and he’s humble enough to try and let his gratitude shine through in everything he does these days.

He even learnt to enjoy waking up. Though admittedly it wasn’t difficult, no, not at all, not when he knows he’ll have company, be greeted with a smile and a kiss, a brief update on global events, a cup of coffee just how he likes it. And so instead of hitting the snooze button on his phone several times, tossing and turning, dreading the beginning of yet another day, he wakes with a serenity he never thought he could achieve.

This morning, his heart feels even lighter than normal and it doesn’t take long to figure out why: there’s a warm body next to his. Doc prefers getting up early, always prefers being prepared no matter what and possesses the inhuman ability to sleep without an alarm and be on time anyway – but rarely, on one of their days off, he allows himself to sleep in, much to Lion’s delight.

Smiling to himself, he rolls on his side to dazedly blink at the spectacular view in front of him and really, Doc has no business being this gorgeous this early in the day. He’s stretched out on his stomach – and he’s the only person Lion has met who sleeps this way –, head turned away from Lion, explaining his constant neck pains, and smooth skin illuminated by the rays falling in through the blinds, painting long stripes on his naked back.

Lion doesn’t want to disturb the image yet reaches out regardless, runs his fingertips over shoulder blades jutting out, the dip of his lower back, relaxed muscles, and reaches the blanket covering Doc from the hips downwards. He should let him sleep. Really, he should, but with every centimetre more that’s revealed, Lion’s interest rises. He takes his time, pauses when he hears his lover take a deep breath and proceeds when it evens out again. Slowly, surely, he reveals plump curves and more soft skin, and then his gaze falls on the discoloured spots on the back of Doc’s thighs and the almost languorous desire playfully swaying in the back of his mind suddenly gets shoved to the very forefront, makes his heart skip a beat and his crotch throb.

Memories from the previous evening come flooding back, the end of a tedious work day necessitating some kind of release – they’d started as soon as they set foot into their apartment, Lion crowding his lover against the door and licking every bit of composure off his tongue, then wandering deeper with his hungry mouth and swallowing him whole, something he’s come to love, provided he can watch Doc’s features dissolve into helpless want while sucking on him, hard. He took his time, did so for the rest too, left Doc aching and fingered him open over the couch until he was flushed and flustered and even more beautiful, took him standing up until his legs gave in, relocated to the kitchen table, eventually landed in bed where he finished them both off with merciless snaps of his hips, listening to Doc’s desperate whines and floating on pure ecstasy.

The bruises are remnants, and now he also feels the scratches on his back again which he didn’t let the other man see, angled his body so he wouldn’t notice the damage he’s done – he usually feels bad about leaving marks though Lion can never get enough. It’s one of the many small disagreements about which they half-heartedly argue and neither of them is ready to budge, but more often than not they end with a hand in someone’s hair or quick kisses. There’s more, now that he knows where to look, Doc’s ass cheeks themselves are still tinted red and the lovebites Lion sucked onto his ribs remain perfectly visible as well.

Maybe he should add a few.

Moving carefully, he removes the blanket entirely, admires Doc’s shapely legs for a moment and then kneels between them, intending no more than to touch the sleeping beauty a little, but as soon as his palms come to rest on firm flesh, a different thought makes his cock twitch in anticipation. Doc is perfectly on display like this, the hills and valleys of his body enticing in a way that Lion wants nothing more than mould himself around them, and he decides to appreciate it all by waking Doc with something more… personal than simply covering him in hickeys.

Thumbs pull the cheeks apart a little, exposing a pink hole which looks overwhelmingly inviting to Lion, a hole he abused to his heart’s content the previous evening and so it’s only appropriate for him to make up for the rough treatment, isn’t it? He leans forward and gingerly circles the rim with the tip of his tongue, starting feather-light and increasing the intensity slowly, intersperses it with broad laps and has to suppress a moan when he feels the ring of muscle pulsing in response. He’s felt similar contractions around his shaft so many times before and the association is all he needed for a full, heavy erection – especially when he remembers Doc’s usual, elated expression whenever he climaxes.

The hips beneath his hands shift a little, and a foot lifts, powerless, and when he pushes the tip of his tongue inside, Doc lets out a sleepy groan. “Really?”, he mumbles into the sheets but makes no move to stop Lion. “Didn’t we do enough yesterday?”

He grins and forces himself a little deeper, eliciting a weak moan, before withdrawing for a reply: “Gustave, I can never have enough of you.” And to cut off any smart remark, he wiggles his tongue back inside and turns all of Doc’s protests into small, appreciative noises. Though his lover appears to be the voice of reason more often than not, he allows himself to get swept up by Lion’s passion all the time, mentioning work but riding him with abandon ten minutes later, scolding him for only thinking about one thing but asking him to come on his face the same day. Lion never minds initiating, not when this is the result: an increasingly aroused Doc meeting his mouth with subtle grinding, fisting the sheets and not even fully awake yet.

A curious finger proves Doc to be more than loose enough a few minutes later, and by this point they’re both panting and dizzy – and besides, Lion has always been more of a ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ type, so he wastes no time in grabbing the lube strategically placed on the bedside table to pour a generous amount on his stiff cock, wincing a little at the cool, viscous liquid. A few strokes for good measure coat it sufficiently and the next moment he’s rubbing his tip over the very hole he licked open just now, felt it quiver around his tongue. The touch is electrifying and the fierce need pulsing through him urges him to give in, take what’s his, ensure his own pleasure.

But he waits. Bites his lip in impatience, pushes slightly against the entrance and shivers when he feels it give way a little, squeezes one of the buttcheeks he maltreated in the sweetest way possible last night – but he waits.

And then Doc meets him, lifts his hips to allow the head to slip inside and both of them gasp at the sudden surge of pleasure. Lion accepts this signal for what it is and begins the slow slide, pushes deeper and deeper into deliciously tight heat, feels Doc’s walls contract around his dick and only stops once he’s bottoms out. Since his lover usually requires a moment to adjust, Lion uses this time to not only focus on how fucking good he feels, but also to straddle the other man properly and lean down, cover him with his own body and place a few loving kisses on the top of his head.

“Other people wake their boyfriends with breakfast in bed”, Doc grumbles under him, now less bleary than before, but the hand he places next to Lion’s contradicts his words. He spreads his fingers and Lion interlaces them with his own, holds on tight and makes no move to suppress the smile stretching his lips at the gesture.

“Their boyfriends are definitely not as erotic as mine then”, he purrs into Doc’s hair. His limbs are possessively caging the other man in and even then, it hardly suffices to sate his need to be as close to Doc as possible, feel all of him.

“What you mean to say is they have more than just a shred of self-control.” And oh, he’s going to make Doc eat those words.

Slowly, he begins grinding down, impatient erection twitching eagerly inside and rubbing against all the right places if Doc’s startled gasp is anything to go by. He loves it deep and Lion knows it, rolls his hips against his lover’s perfect ass and makes him feel every centimetre keenly. For good measure, he bows his head to latch onto that spot right below Doc’s ear which he knows drives him wild, tongues at it wetly before sucking and relishes the unrestrained moan he earns for his trouble. Over time, he’s memorised all of Doc’s weakspots and exploits this knowledge now shamelessly, bites at his earlobe and trails his lips over soft skin to the back of Doc’s neck where he nibbles, his lazy motions emphasising his ministrations.

By now, Doc is trembling against him, the deep grind stealing his breath and causing him to jerk his hips up in search of more thorough stimulation than this merciless teasing, trying to fuck himself on Lion’s cock but failing. Frustrated huffs join the quiet panting, his grip involuntarily tightening parallel to him clenching desperately around Lion’s hard shaft and it’s mesmerising to behold how his mock crossness melts away into pure lust.

Doc’s other hand reaches back and digs into Lion’s ass, tries to get him to move more, faster, anything, but when that fails as well, he pleads: “Come on, just fuck me, Olivier.”

He knows how this goes. Grinning to himself, Lion tenses his muscles to make his dick throb inside additionally to the tantalising motions and decides to have even more fun. “You look so pretty, impaled on my cock”, he whispers and throws Doc a bone, withdraws all the way and slowly slides back in, keeps this torturous pace and sighs contentedly every time Doc’s hole allows him back in, stretches around him. He meant his words – he really can never get enough of this.

Uneven breaths have turned into whines now. “Olivier, please -”

“I could fuck you, pump you full of come and then leave you, dripping and begging for it”, he continues and concentrates on the steady build of pleasure – a slow climb but oh so satisfying. Doc feels wonderful around him. “Could do that the entire day. Every time you suck me until I’m hard again, I shoot inside but you’re not allowed to come. You can ride my cock all day, Gustave.” The thought is dazzling and he probably never fantasised about someone while being balls deep inside that very person, yet he can’t help but picture Doc all powerless, frenzied, obeying him fully. He knows Doc is too proud to actually agree to anything like it, though the throaty moan Doc lets out in response tells Lion unambiguously that he’s imagining it – and actually enjoys the thought. Still, Lion’s thumb strokes reassuringly over the hand he’s still holding.

“Please, I want you, go faster -” Doc’s impatience has reached its peak now, he shoves himself onto Lion’s member in one go and pushes against him, whimpers when Lion gnaws at his neck in retaliation and rises nonetheless, lifting his lover’s body with him. The teasing has left him frantic and exactly how Lion likes it, cheeks red and gaze almost defiant when he glares at the larger man over his shoulder. Lion could spend all day marvelling at the state of him.

Instead, he relents, guides Doc onto his hands and knees and grabs his hips to steady him, fingers brushing over the bruises on Doc’s thigh, the faint purplish tinge an expression of his devotion. “You want it hard?”, he asks and is almost surprised at how breathy his own voice is. Unbridled want is pulsing through him, vicious and blinding, making his digits itch and cock ache.

Doc nods wordlessly and it’s probably good he can’t see the pure joy on Lion’s face over the admission. Even now, even with how familiar they are with each other, every confirmation of the passion, respect and love they share sparks delight.

A sharp snap of Lion’s hips later and his focus is elsewhere again. Now he’s getting serious, drives into Doc at a fast tempo, watches as his entire erection disappears inside him and tries his best not to come on the spot. The abrupt stimulation is almost too much but he keeps going through the discomfort paired with blunt need until he hears himself moan loudly in pleasure, dig his fingertips into Doc’s flesh. He’s not going to last long, that much is clear, but he’s going to make it good regardless.

A few pointed thrusts elicit more dazed whimpering from his lover, a picturesque arch of his back to allow Lion to penetrate him all the way and even another, decidedly more heated glance back at him. They’re both equally into it, tensing and moving against each other amid the sound of skin slapping against skin, the rustling of sheets as Doc desperately seeks support, leverage, anything to hold on to – and Lion shares the sentiment of feeling wholly lost yet not wanting to be found. Ruthlessly, he slams into his lover, chasing his pleasure, helping Doc pursue his own, and makes no effort to hide his enjoyment.

A sudden spike almost pushes him over the edge when Doc’s arms give in, accompanied by something that sounds suspiciously like a keen, and now he’s really pounding him into the mattress, showing him just how deep his desire runs, how comprehensive his attraction is. He can’t even pinpoint which part it is exactly about Doc that drives him this wild, fills him with the urge to claim, mark, embrace and never let go; and he revels in the knowledge of being able to make this otherwise so poised, dignified and professional man fall apart, provoke emotions from him he displays for no one else.

“Come for me”, Lion gasps in between the creaking of the bed, “do it. Come on, amour, Gustave, I want to feel it.” And the sounds he wrenches from Doc’s throat with every thrust get impossibly louder when his lover reaches for his dick, probably not able to keep up with the merciless rhythm with which Lion is driving into him but still good enough. He gets tighter, even more so when Lion’s breath hitches, followed by a growl. He’s getting closer by the second, Doc’s noises and velvety heat making up the perfect catalyst -

And then Doc orgasms, surprisingly quickly for how little he stroked himself, he must’ve been primed, possibly dreamt of Lion and this thought is a whole other turn-on he shelves away for later. Right now, he watches, utterly transfixed, as Doc spasms under him, hips rolling futilely to either increase the intensity or shy away from it as he shoots his sperm in short bursts in between the hard thrusts. Lion fucks him through it, runs one of his palms over the dancing muscles of Doc’s back and shudders at the violent contractions around his throbbing cock; fucks him through the aftershocks, too, tiny jolts which speak of a very satisfying climax. Lion isn’t there yet, however, not fully, teetering on the edge, carefully controlling himself so he can take all of Doc in and -

“Finish inside, Olivier”, Doc demands, voice shaky, and he’s gone.

His abs tense with a delicious kind of pain at the first wave of blissful release washing through him. He buries himself deep inside his lover and moans in disbelief over how abruptly pleasure explodes behind his eyelids and nearly folds in half at the intensity, gasping for air as his cock twitches and probably adding a few bruises to the existing ones. Momentary blindness allows him to be wholly aware of Doc moving against him to milk him for every drop, of overwhelming relief encompassing his entire being as he orgasms, surrounded by scorching heat and momentarily losing all sense of reality.

Coming down is a slow, gradual affair, both of them slumping a little and Lion bending so he can rest his forehead on Doc’s shoulder blade as they both catch their breath, bask in the afterglow and enjoy the feel of shared body heat, companionship and sweet exhaustion. Lion peppers his boyfriend’s shoulder with kisses once he can see straight again, withdraws tentatively and sits up to examine the masterpiece he just fucked into existence in all its glory: shiny skin, reddened cheeks, a gaping hole, dark marks and lovebites, and, after a few seconds, a thin stream of white leaking out.

Lion is definitely unable to get hard immediately after a climax this exquisite but his dick gives a feeble jump at the sight nonetheless. He reaches out and catches the droplets with a fingertip, pushes them back to where they came from, pushes them back inside and earns a quiet moan. Adding another digit, he tries to finger the semen as deep as he can and only pauses when Doc kicks him lightly.

“I’m sore enough as it is”, he complains and rolls to the side when Lion withdraws mournfully, yet there’s a bright smile adorning his face when their eyes meet.

With weak knees, Lion stalks back and forth to get them cleaned up (and is actually amazed Doc doesn’t mention the scratches he himself inflicted) but insists on doing one thing by himself: once he’s taken his rightful place by Doc’s side, entangled their legs and exchanged a few loving kisses, he catches Doc’s wrist to lift it to his face and starts to lick his palm clean.

“You’re like a dog”, his lover murmurs fondly and readily spreads his fingers to allow for better access. “They should’ve called you Husky, not Lion – they’re just as noisy and stubborn.”

Lion shoots him a good-natured grin. “Then you should be called Bunny. What was that about self-control?”

“Oh please, you’re the eternally horny one, mon amour.”

“And yet you never say no.” Their lips meet once more in a long, thorough kiss, with Doc climbing on top of Lion halfway through, ending up straddling him and stroking his face affectionately until Lion mouths at his palm while keeping eye contact.

“You really love my hands”, Doc points out quietly.

It’s true, he does – he loves how steady they are on the job, never making a mistake, never causing harm; loves how they’re calloused and scarred, lots of specks and lines lighter in colour telling tales of hard work; loves how they worship him, how gently they treat him, how warm they are when they touch him.

“I also really love you”, Lion says instead of the million other things he could say instead which would amount to the same thing. He’s learnt his lesson about being honest with himself and others and can’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when his admissions make Doc’s face light up like a Christmas tree. “And your hands do good. They’re your most important tools and I’m thankful every time I feel them.” There’s so much more for which he’s grateful that making a list would take him several days, so he tries to convey all which he’s not divulging explicitly with a heartfelt: “Thank you, Gustave.”

Doc’s features soften and he accepts the notion with one last kiss before getting up. “I’m going to brew us some coffee”, he announces, yet pauses by the bedroom door to catch Lion’s gaze and add, softly: “I love you too, Olivier.”

And while Lion remains in bed for a minute longer, stretched out and encased in soothing warmth coming from within, a distracted smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and most of his body tingling pleasantly, he thinks back to his life no more than a year ago. How unthinkable it was that waking up would become his favourite part of the day. But sometimes, the unthinkable happens all the same.

[bladekindeyewear]

Boots Reads Homestuck Epilogue(s) Part 15 - Candy Page 34

==>

John finally decides to let the relevance of his story end, and enjoy that he’s made at least some of his other friends happy with his choice.  Time to read Page 34...

VRISKA: Pfft, yeah, wh8tever. I’m basically Immortal, bitch.

Preeeetty sure you’re confusing yourself with one of your parents.

Pff, actual healthy kismesis with a Tavros?  Wow, we’re getting all sorts of redemption by not-really-Vriska proxy here.

HARRY ANDERSON: he’s always getting all weepy whenever i talk to him anyway. HARRY ANDERSON: i don’t think i could have taken another round of him choking back tears while apologizing to me about “what happened with me and your mother, harry.” HARRY ANDERSON: i mean, god. he’s not even fucking DRUNK when he does this. HARRY ANDERSON: that might actually be the most embarrassing part.

.......

Okay, having grown up with a father who suffered from serious depression and would break into tears embarrassingly easily, uh.  I can relate?  But also fuck you, that’s inconsiderate.

--Dammit, new Vriska is catching wind of old Vriska.

Vriska and (Vriska) both start shrieking at a pitch John’s only ever heard one time before. It was a sound that once accompanied the end of everything. A sound once heard the night he dreamt in anime.

Oh that’s brilliant.  If the entire Candy arc ended here it’d be great, though I know it’s not quite over yet.

==>

...Oh shit, we actually get to see what happens immediately next.

Interesting introspective thoughts!  Or, trying her best NOT to be introspective and failing.

Oh my god, SHUT UP Gamzee.  Vriska, just kill him already??

PFFF HE SENT A PIC OF IT TO KARKAT :D

Pfff.  Yeah, Vriska, TRY and ignore what just happened and how it was almost entirely your idea.

(Vriska) is so furious, she has no way of pinpointing the exact moment her intent stopped being intimidating him into silence and started being guaranteeing his silence, forever.

Thank FUCKING goodness, PLEASE kill him.

YAY he’s dead! :D  (Even though he’ll probably revive anyway because bullshit.)

Heheh. NOW we get a cross-Vriska heart to heart.

==>

Alright, a bit more John moping.  Man... this Candy section is a whole lot easier to swallow AFTER Meat than I imagine it would have been before.

.....heck.  EITHER of these epilogue branches are really fucking hard to swallow the first time around without the other’s context.

Oh huh, it’s his house from the Medium then?  Relocated and stuff?

Jake, hm.  Is Jake going to try and leave his son with John like that failed kidnapping in reverse or?

Jake snaps the elastic on his pair of red underpants. It’s the only thing he’s wearing.

Oooookay then.

JAKE: She had a certain way she liked me kipped out and well, i didnt want to bring anything that belonged to her when i left. Nothing she er, might miss. TAVROS: You took me,

Jake winces.

TAVROS: And,,, you took you,

Jake’s wince deepens.

Oh, so that’s what this is!  Jake fleeing with his son from an abusive relationship.  About gosh darn time.  .....geez, how bad did it get for JAKE to finally muster the gumption to do that himself after all these years???

Jake is one whole wince now

I know THAT feeling.  Or at least feel like I do.

John you dedicate your life to keeping this child happy

JOHN: it’s just been kind of a rough forever.

:C

JAKE: Maybe you should blame me? JAKE: Maybe i need someone to blame me. For once. JOHN: ...huh? JAKE: I think im starting to realize that ive been going through life with the mindset that nothing has ever really been within my control.

YES.

This is how Vriska broke Tavros way back in the comic, by constantly denying him agency.  Jake’s been battered down the same way too, and it’s not too late to pick up the reins.  He’s already DONE that by finally leaving his genocidal wife.

There’s a bit of Page of Hope-yness to this whole disastrous Candy timeline, come to think of it?  People fulfilling others’ desires out of obligation constantly, doing what they think others want?  Roxy, Jake, Dave and Karkat... all fucked over at the aggressive whims of more active folk, rolling over when they really shouldn’t have?  Or in Roxy’s case, her CHARACTER basically SHOULD NOT HAVE IN THE SLIGHTEST?

JAKE: Havent you ever wanted to let someone make the tough choices for you?

Huh.

Or maybe he is doing exactly what Jake has always done. In a certain light, isn’t ascribing all this mess to some unconscious influence he might have had over the metaphysical shape of reality just a way to brush off his simpler failures as a man and a father?

Yes.  You can act and change this too, John.  You almost did with the kidnapping before!  Go and take down the new Batterwitch.

Hm, Hopey thing?

JAKE: John. JOHN: yeah? JAKE: Take my hand. JOHN: what? why?

Oh shit.  Are they going to be able to FIX some of this BS with some sort of hopey thing??? :D  Probably too much to hope for but still!

Being flung from Jake’s orbit of Hope and Change

Pffff.  Had to throw in an Obama didn’t you.

...Oh.  Oh wow.  Oh we get to figure out what the fuck was up with Roxy all this time.  Oh boy.

JAKE: So what if it doesnt change anything? Wont it matter to your family to see you care? JAKE: Wont it make you feel better to try?

:D

Heheh, Hope aspecty stuff.  The ability to believe that something matters even when you “know” it doesn’t.

==>

...Yeah, it’s pretty easy to relax on a dead Gamzee.

Oh cool.  These Vriskas are alike enough to bond!  New Vriska is still in her teenage unbalanced go-for-it stage, and old Vriska has been knocked down a peg by the clown incident, putting them on a close enough level to not want to instantly disown each other, unlike old Vriska and ghost Vriska.

VRISKA: The Mayor’s dead, dude.

HOW did the Mayor die?!??  Did I just FORGET that from the end of Homestuck or something??

(I mean, probably.)

Callback to the clouds in that first Jade dream John had.

(VRISKA): Or may8e the truth just makes me kind of nervous. VRISKA: What “Truth”? (VRISKA): Don’t tell him I said this, 8ut, I think John is just an extremely powerful 8eing. Even when he sucks. (VRISKA): And he certainly does appear to suck in this reality. (VRISKA): And yet, the uneasy feeling is there. (VRISKA): It’s a vague feeling I’ve had in the 8ack of my mind for a long time, 8ut it really hit me when I was talking to him earlier. (VRISKA): It’s distur8ing to think a8out that much power 8ottled up in one stupid nerd who’ll never understand it. VRISKA: What Power are you even talking a8out? VRISKA: Like, lame Wind Powers? (VRISKA): No, I mean... (VRISKA): The power to shape reality. Even without intending to.

FUCK did he really cause all this??? Even the Roxy shit?!???  D:  D:  D:

It’s being left vague but it IS sounding like John was actually RIGHT about all that stuff.  FUCK, if the “villain” who messed up Roxy is actually just John’s subconscious...  :C

Even if the epilogue ends right here, though, with John about to call Roxy, I can imagine it working out, though.  It’s on a right enough track there.

(VRISKA): I’ve spent so long caring so much a8out what other people thought of me. Mainly that they saw me as important, or making a “difference.”

Mhmm mhmm.  Light n stuff.

Yeah, realizing that importance isn’t ALL that’s “important” is really, um.  Important.  Ahem.

Hm, other Vriska, that smile had seven pairs of dots, not eight.  :?

(VRISKA): The POINT is, I was so mad at her. (VRISKA): That happy ghost version of myself, who was free of everything. (VRISKA): I was pro8a8ly mad 8ecause she got to 8e who she really was, without stressing a8out it, which is something I never felt like I was allowed to have.

Indeed.

(VRISKA): I guess I mean there’s someone specifically I fell out of touch with, who it feels like I’ll never see again.

Too bad, only ghost Vriska got her reunite with ‘Rezi.  :P

(VRISKA): On some level I knew she was right. She was happy and honest with herself. And that’s what made her... (VRISKA): A version of myself who was actually worthy of someone I cared a8out.

Yyyep.  As I said.  :)

VRISKA: You’re just talking a8out The Girl You 8linded that one time, aren’t you? (VRISKA): Ummmmmmmm.

Heheh.  Yeah, you’re not going to hide that sort of thing from your sharp near-clone.

Oh cool!  She gets to see all those messages and feel turboguilt or something.

...oh shit.  Is a message going to actually get to her?  It-- oh shit.  Didn’t Terezi have her phone buzzing in her pocket and ignored it in the end of Meat or something?  Or at SOMEONE did and I thought it conspicuous but it didn’t get addressed in that side of the story and-- FFFFuck is she eventually going to see it or??!  D:

She’s GOT to have seen it before running all the way off with villain Dirk, right?? D:

==>

Okay.  You seem to be thinking clearly, Roxy.  What’s going through your head? Give us some answers.  Don’t fuck this up too much, John.

but she knows by now that it’s not her job to make him happy. That was something she gave up on years ago. But wanting to? That feeling is still as fresh as it always was.

FUCK was this all just a placid feeling of obligation to make John happy for all he did to ensure victory or something??? D: D: D:

She’s still working through what she feels about distancing herself from Jane

Yesssss

If he’s truly about to be real with her for the first time in forever,

Gosh fucking DARNIT John, you could have fixed all this DECADES AGO if you had a real talk with her ONCE!!!!!

ROXY: the more i thought abt it the more i figured holdin on to that one thing made me lose out on some other shit ROXY: u might relate JOHN: haha, you got me there i guess.

:c

JOHN: i’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how things got to be like they are. JOHN: i guess i’ll just come out and say it. JOHN: i completed fucked up your entire life. JOHN: i’m not going to pretend like there are two sides here. it’s my bad, totally. JOHN: like, not just what happened to our marriage, though it’s also true that that’s completely my fault. JOHN: but even before that... JOHN: i think i fucked up on just this massive, fundamental level, and it’s what i did— JOHN: or, well, what i didn’t do— JOHN: that caused every stupid bullshit thing about the way this world is.

...Huh.

That may not actually be true, and Roxy might be about to prove how self-absorbedly reductive that is.

ROXY: oh nah ill stop u rite there my man

Okay YES.  If this wasn’t him, then SET HIM THE FUCK STRAIGHT.  :D

She knows more than he does, and she doesn’t need to hear it.

TELL US TELL US TELL US

YES TEAR INTO HIM he’s wanted that for so long stand up for yourself and tell us what the fuck happened and why

He’s been looking at her, really looking at her, and she doesn’t want to blink, just in case that shatters it.

Yes because he was looking for the real Roxy that would call out his BS

JOHN: i used to be so angry that you wouldn’t tell me what you really thought, before. JOHN: not like i wanted to FIGHT fight, but like. JOHN: i’m just not used to this flavor of roxy. ROXY: hm ROXY: sounds to me like u just disproved ur own hotshot theory then genius JOHN: huh? ROXY: you wished i was one way the whole time we were married ROXY: but i wasnt

YES!!! Yes his theory’s disproven!  He never WANTED Roxy to just act that way, he wasn’t the cause of this, I was hoping for that!  :D

ROXY: i was bad at standin up for myself then and im learnin to be good at it now

D:

That’s....... sad, if that’s the explanation.  But it’s better than mind control I guess.  :(

JOHN: but... JOHN: you were never like that before i... ROXY: dude ROXY: where tf do u get off trying to decide what is or isnt me being “like me” enuff ROXY: do u think ppl stay the same their whole damn lives or what

Oh wow.  Now Andrew’s slamming SLAMMING of fanfics.  He’s saying “who are you to know for SURE that they wouldn’t act that way”??  That’s pretty good.

ROXY: i like the way things turned out just fuckin fine ROXY: so maybe u could stop wastin precious eternity thinkin ur so special that its ur fault everyones not perfectly happy

:’)

Mhmm, and they’re free from the heroic design arcs or what have you.  Or... were, until Dirk tore them back in again.  Tossed aside their fucking victory with his selfish... ugh.

Mhmm, Roxy’s the perfect person to explain that not being in a canon, Light-filled timeline isn’t really a bad thing.

ROXY: i just do things the best way i think to do em and then shrug n hope it works out?

Roxy thinks about time and the spirals of choice that hang just outside her periphery, and the vertigo grows.

Good advice, and hm.  Maybe there’s some Void sight kind of playing into this as well, making it easy for her to get paralyzed by indecision and she’s had to learn to work through it.

...Ooh, that was a really cool non-binary gender diatribe in the narrative text.  That’s some nice stuff.  I felt like that was missing from the Meat side, glad we got it here at least.  :D

JOHN: there’s literally nothing to do but keep moving forward. JOHN: i may as well not be a big fucking downer about it if i don’t have to be.

Thank goodness.

YES, JOHN SHOWING HIMSELF STRAIGHT-BACKED FOR HIS SON!!! :D

Man, I wish my dad had done that instead of all the other shit he did.  At least he’s dead.  :)

(Here’s a hint in case you’re wondering why I was relieved when my Dad offed himself.)

But that’s off topic.  Let’s wrap up this epilogue already!!

==>

Page 39... only three or so pages left, right?

Pff, Karkat’s keeping them safe.

Heheh, more shitty Liberty statues.

Heheh, using them for weapons caches.

Gosh I hope they actually love each other and are mostly happy.  Jade seems happy, at least.  :(

Dammit, there go the doubts.  He wouldn’t have had those doubts with Karkat. :C

He’s standing in the Oval Office of the White House.

Oh heck yes.  Please tell me...

And over there... is something he doesn’t quite recognize. It doesn’t seem to fit in. He steps closer to investigate, wiping away at the layers of moss and dirt to reveal a surface he most certainly does recognize. It’s a transportalizer.

YES

Dave doesn’t waste any time. You don’t find something like this in the Oval Office and start agonizing over whether or not to use it. He steps on the platform, and in a blink his surroundings are completely different. The centuries of overgrowth are gone, and he appears to be in some sort of crypt, boxed in by walls of smooth, golden stone. At the far side of the room, something is hanging on the wall, encased in a sort of display. It’s a mounted god tier costume, about the size an adult male would wear. He recognizes the symbol. It’s the same one Jake used to wear when they were teens. It is the symbol for Hope.

HELL FUCKING YES

YES OBAMA

OBAMA: Hello, Mr. Strider. OBAMA: I’ve been waiting a long time for you to show up.

Dave’s jaw hangs open. The legends have been confirmed. As well as several key headcanons of his. Without thinking, he drops to one knee and bows his head.

DAVE: m... mr president DAVE: its an honor sir

Man, forget my past stomach clenching.  Forget my hesitations, my turbulent emotions, all the ups and downs the various facets of these Epilogue chapters have given me.  THIS is the best.  THIS makes it all worth it.  This is the best thing to have ever happened, and if I ever feel any regrets about ANYTHING that transpired in the Epilogues, I’ll feel infinitely better the moment I remember it gave us THIS.

The most beautiful scene I’ve ever witnessed.  All my liberal, economy-ranting hopes and dreams confirmed.  It’s glorious.

OBAMA: Come on now, Dave. We can’t be having that. OBAMA: I’m nobody’s king. I’m a democratically elected representative who took an oath to serve his country and his people. People like you, Dave. OBAMA: If anything, I should be the one bowing.

OBAMA.  I MISSED YOU OBAMA.  I CAN HEAR YOUR VOICE THROUGH YOUR TEXT AND ITS SO COMFORTING AND UPLIFTING

DAVE: mr president what i mean is im a huge fan of yours and i hope this doesnt sound fucked up but on some level i feel like ive been waiting my whole life for this moment?? OBAMA: I know, Dave.

Yes, yes you have.  Yes, we can.

OBAMA: Most people thought I was gone. But I was keeping an eye on events. OBAMA: Wouldn’t miss it for anything.

I, too, would like to have the feeling that Obama is still out there, keeping an eye on things.  Watching, smiling... providing some last background of Hope as things seem so temporarily sour.  That feeling would be amazing.

...I mean he’s still alive IRL, sure, but not Obama watermark smiling lovingly from the sky or anything like it should be.

Yes, back to reading.  Back to this glorious, definitely canon moment.  The moment we learned that Obama was with us the whole time.  :’)

DAVE: sorry if this is nosy but if you didnt die when you disappeared then how did you die OBAMA: Most of that is classified, Dave.

Pfffffff  :D

OBAMA: When I was a boy living in Hawaii, on my thirteenth birthday I was visited by a mysterious stranger. OBAMA: He was an older man with a mustache. Kind of a corny, old-fashioned, adventuring type. He tried to convince me we were related. Of course, I thought he was full of shit. OBAMA: To this day, I’m not sure about that. Maybe he was. I didn’t think much of his tall tale at the time, but what did pique my interest was his story. OBAMA: He was voyaging all over the Pacific looking for a mysterious island, which supposedly had all the answers he’d spent his whole life searching for. OBAMA: During his travels, he set up outposts all over the ocean to help with his search. Such as one near where I lived as a boy. The outpost had a laboratory, an archeological dig site, a network of underground tunnels, the works. OBAMA: One time, I snuck in there and did some exploration of my own. Somewhere in the maze of underground ruins, I found a transporter pad, just like the one that brought you here. OBAMA: It sent me to a new realm. A place they called the Medium.

Grandpa Jake of Earth A, thank you SO much for bringing us this gift.  The gift of Obama.

OBAMA: Hey, why don’t we take a walk. You’ll have a chance to collect yourself. And there’s something I’d like you to see.

:O :O :O

I am shivering with anticipation.

Ah, leave it to Obama to help Dave with the final steps of his character arc.

OBAMA: Are you sure that’s all he is, Dave?

FIX THINGS OBAMA!!!! :D :D :D

Wait, what if Obama can turn things into an actually legitimate DaveKatJade?  That would be a miracle only a god of Hope could pull off.

OBAMA: I’ve had my share of doubts about all that, just like any other man. OBAMA: And I’ve had plenty of the same kind of struggles as you, Dave. DAVE: wait DAVE: you...

Obama nods, smiles wistfully. Dave arches his eyebrows high above his shades. They stare at each other, and in the look they exchange, they seem to say all that needs to be said between two grown men on the matter.

:’)

OBAMA: Believing is the key to understanding the truth underlying the words, the truth underlying the ideas they represent, and the truth underlying who we are as individuals. OBAMA: The power of belief, the power of Hope, that’s what endows that which is intangible, ephemeral, or uncertain with a sense of reality. OBAMA: It brings focus to the insubstantial, the mirages of the mind, the multiplicity of what is possible, of what could be, and isolates it—concentrates it—to turn it into that which is. OBAMA: And the result of that, Dave, is what we call truth.

I didn’t think we’d be learning more about the Hope aspect straight from the mouth of Barack Obama.

OBAMA: He taught me about many things. Combat, philosophy, life, love... DAVE: love??? DAVE: hold on are you saying DAVE: that...

PFFFFFFFF :D :D :D

OBAMA: She’s settled happily into the specific. That’s her path now. OBAMA: All of you have embraced that life, in this safely sequestered version of planet Earth. OBAMA: All of you until now, Dave. OBAMA: This is why you’re here. OBAMA: I believe you’re ready to wake up. DAVE: ...

:O

...this is suddenly possibly going to be getting slightly sad isn’t it.  D:

--Oh shit, so THIS is where Davebot came from.

How is he going to break things off with Jade though???  D: D: D:

...Oh my GOSH he’s just going to suddenly vanish and abandon her isn’t he.  D:

...alright, merging with his other selves, et cetera...

It defers to its greatest knight, risen anew.

Yeah that’s nice but am I supposed to pretend you’re going to say goodbye to Jade offscreen or

--ah that’s why the bot didn’t have shades, gotta use the genuine Stiller ones

==>

Page 40, and the start of this sounds a lot like the Postscript.  But we’re getting more this time, thank god.

ARADIA: when i watched as everything broke apart ARADIA: and got swallowed up by the black hole ARADIA: which is where i ended up too ARADIA: that black hole... ARADIA: thats basically you right JADE: yes. ARADIA: and when you speak of your brother ARADIA: thats lord english JADE: yes. ARADIA: and hes dead JADE: not just yet.

Oh shit.  John’s final blow didn’t kill Lord English did it.  Alt!Callie is going to strike the very last killing blow herself isn’t she.

JADE: lesser beings have so much trouble perceiving divinity in the uncanny.

Divinity?  Like, Lollipop-style divinity?  I mean, I guess this IS the Candy branch...?  But what made this so “perfect” to begin with?

JADE: this world, unlike the canonical horrors from which it is hermetically insulated, will always fail to meet the combined criteria for truth, relevance, and essentiality that would endow this realm with any real gravity. JADE: its own naturally occurring supply of gravity, rather than the artificial supply i have given it. JADE: as such, what transpires here is characterized by experiential frivolity. JADE: physically, it is cordoned off by the black hole’s event horizon. it is safe. untouchable. JADE: inescapable. ARADIA: that sounds ominous

Oh.  So this outside-of-canon timeline-verse whatever that Candy takes place in is like a trap?  For Lord English to be trapped in forever, inside not just his OWN story like we thought before but into a place where he’ll be forever irrelevant, while, like... the “Prince” and others following him for pursuit or camaraderie reasons manage to escape somewhere even different?  --No wait those people are OUTSIDE this place, in the “real” timeline/universe of Earth C. So Dirk’s destination is somewhere completely different; oh, and alt!Callie is the only one with the power to escape the black hole, to bring Davebot and Aradia with her back to quote-unquote “canon” or the closest thing to it to bring bastard Dirkbro down.

Or... something.

JADE: one could describe it as a phantasmal projection confined within my horizon. JADE: it was created by a choice that made it possible for that horizon to expand infinitely, to consume infinitely. JADE: and since that choice could not coexist with canon events, this place manifested to here to support its consequences. JADE: if this world were capable of anything either essential, relevant, or true in some stable combination, then it would perpetuate a corrosive paradox. JADE: as such, insulation from what is out there, and the inescapable well it rests in, is what protects all it holds inside. JADE: and since i am the embodiment of the black hole in which it rests, JADE: i am the one protecting this world.

Oh huh.  So when we saw alt!Callie creating the black hole out of the Sun, she was actually using John’s “choice” and his timeline split to engineer the paradox that drove that singularity’s expansion?  And so she’s going to be the lord and safeguard of all that is Non-Canon, and also seek to guide the heroes trying to save what IS Canon?

Hm!

JADE: physical destruction is one thing. JADE: obliteration of the entire canvas for all of reality over a given cosmic span is another. JADE: and yet there are even more insidious forms of destruction and subversion of life to consider. JADE: methods that are difficult to grasp for those on your plane.

Yep, destroying Heart.  Destroying Soul.  Destroying the uniqueness that drives individual agency and choices, and suborning people completely to your will and ideals without their consent or choice.

Hmm....

JADE: but longer stories have the power to draw consciousness into them. they possess arresting and hypnotic qualities which can be used by their tellers to alter the awareness of the listener.

Yep, like a biased narrator with their claws on the > prompt for characters.

JADE: i brought to your attention that the story you were listening to had a speaker with a specific identity. JADE: and where there is an identity, there can also be an agenda.

Yep yep.  And by commandeering the story to his own agenda, Dirk’s been robbing everyone of a fundamental right to their own existences.

JADE: this is the sort of corruption i now must dedicate my existence in this new body to ending once and for all.

Heck Yes; returning the narrative to as objective a speakerless-ness as can be attained or simulated, and divesting the bias from agenda’d narrators that can wrest all control from the participants in a story, enslaving them and making them the author’s puppets instead of true to themselves as characters, people, etc.

--Oh my GOSH, was Dead!Jade eating the remains of Lord English at the end of that Postscript???  She was, wasn’t she?  :D :D :D

That’s pretty fucking awesome.  And a pretty fucking fair fate for him to get cannibalized by his sister.

JADE: consume his body. JADE: absorb his essence. JADE: and then using this host, i will generate enough power to move beyond the staggering pull of the event horizon encasing this world. JADE: a prison of my own making, which can be escaped only through the supreme unification with my other half. JADE: it is crucial to the cosmos that i succeed. JADE: the prince of heart has to be stopped.

:D :D :D :D :D

Pretty awesome!  A decent setup to a story that probably shouldn’t be told, the implied sequel that Meat invites up or whatever.  And... oh phew.

Oh PHEW.

OH FUCKING PHEW. HOLD ON.

So.  The very last line of the epilogue, the last bit:

The hole leaves behind an absence in the sky so calm that continuing to call it a sky wouldn’t seem to do it justice. It’s a perfectly neutral expanse into which anything one can imagine might be summoned. And for a while, anything was. But not anymore. Where the hole gaped just moments ago, there now exists an imaginary line.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Okay!  :D :D :D

So, when I read that last line, I was INCREDIBLY disheartened.  I thought that Andrew was declaring that canon would never interfere with anything again, that this was the FINAL WORD on Homestuck and everything to do with it as far as canon was concerned, and that Dirk’s crimes and such would forever go unresolved and left to the imagination.

But that’s not what the line meant.

What’s INSIDE the singularity, and thus “under” the imaginary line, is everything non-canon, all the possibility and fanfiction and dead ghosts and such who are trapped in this safeguarded realm alt!Callie created to protect them, away from the influence of any future plot danger beyond the mundane issues they create for themselves.

And what’s OUTSIDE the singularity, above the line, is canon.  A canon which actually continues, and which this line doesn’t necessarily cut short.

I don’t know if Andrew will ever continue this nonsense, maybe to show me a Rose who’s actually happy as a robot or something?  But... er, that’s not the point.  The point is that even though the story “isn’t over”, it’s left so it CAN continue, so that the final state of these ISN’T a permanent cliffhanger to be left forever unfulfilled intentionally.  I’ll still be traumatized by the state some of these characters are left in, until Andrew maybe possibly chooses to resolve some of this nonsense with later content, which he probably won’t.  Heck, this actually might be easier for him to create a new work with, given how much baggage has been left behind on old Earth and in the singularity, so all you have is a much relatively smaller cast of characters on a chase to wherever Dirk is planning to go?  But, like.  When I read that Postscript, I stopped believing anyone I saw suggesting we’d get anything after this.  Any sort of work of... you know... continuing, er, Homestuckiness from Andrew, no matter what it was.  But even just... leaving it open even if he isn’t going to DO anything about it, and having that final line NOT be an aggressive cutoff?  Is just nice.  Nicer, anyway.

And this singularity is kept safe for us to enjoy ALL of the old stuff, the multitude of possibility that the in-singularity version of Roxy glimpses out of the side of her eye.  That--

Oh my Gosh.  THAT’S also what the final line means.

Above this line resides all that matters. Below exists all else. Never again the twain shall meet.

Homestuck fanfiction is now COMPLETELY FREE FROM CANON.

Within this singularity, nothing has to stay true to absolutely every underpinning of the earlier comic.  Nothing has to make sense.  Nothing has to be narratively consistent with anything else, though it’s obviously more enjoyable if it is.  Truth, essentiality, and relevance may all be FLEXED as much as any individual fanfic writer needs to!  And... and earlier, before this epilogue.  When we would get Snapchat stuff of the story on Earth C.  And even before that when all we had was the ending flash.  There was still a FEAR on many parts that there was more to canon that Andrew wasn’t telling us, that whatever was in our imaginations about what may have happened was “wrong”, that any fanfic you wrote was liable to be disproven formally.  But that’s not the case anymore.  Because with that line, with alt!Callie sealing off this realm and taking just a last few soon-to-be canon-impactors out of one of its timelines, Andrew has left ALL of the earlier trappings of Homestuck, of Earth, of all these characters and ghosts and fragmented possibilities, permanently free from canon influence from the rest of time.  Meaning no Homestuck fanfic that takes place in this singularity-granted realm may EVER be busted by Andrew’s future work.  He’s done what he first aspired to do when he declared all fantrolls in existence canon.  He’s finally “killed the author”.  He’s made the very FACT of an author an enemy, to be pursued in its own canon story outside of all this.  He’s set EVERYTHING free.

Wow.  So that’s what all the point of all this was, huh?  :D

Let me read the last few pages of Candy anyway.  Where was I again?

Oh, about to click the last page.  ==>

Oh my GOD.  This Postscript is about the end of MEAT, where the Meat Postscript showed us the end of CANDY!!!  :D

Let’s hear where this shit is all going!  I’ve been wondering what realm Dirk is actually heading towards to try and start fucking up.  Reading...

...Oh, okay.  I thought I glimpsed someone mentioning something about Rose “doing Dirk’s laundry”, and I thought I just missed some narrative comment on laundry made when Dirk took Rose out of the apartment on that final trip out to Jake’s for a spaceship?  But I guess this was the scene they were talking about.  Fuck you, Dirk.

One of her more reckless shipmates chipped a tooth trying one, despite repeated warnings to stay away from the stuff.

So Terezi IS there?  And probably received that final message from Vriska to think about.

It’s a stray ruby slipper. The other is about ten feet away, down the hall. No sign of their owner anywhere.

Yep, that’s definitely Terezi.

...Oh cool, Rose’s body isn’t quite dead?  She could be returned to it or a souped-up version of it if she’s ever brought to her senses outside Dirk’s corrosive influence.

A new planet is within sensor range. She studies the millions of statistics all pouring in at once.

They’re heading for a planet?  Somewhere else in Universe C?

It’s an M-Class planet. The right size, right age, right distance from the sun. There’s no advanced life yet. It’s exactly what they’ve been looking for all these years.

Shit, a NEW planet?  For all this shit to go down on?  Maybe I don’t need to see what happens next, that sounds potentially a little boring.  The future adventure this story entails COULD just be implied and never followed up on.

Once the new race has established

What race??? Human, hybrid?? It’s not TROLL, y’all would have brought Aradia if that was the case, right?  Or is this why there are tons of trolls in Universe C that Caliborn and Calliope’s parent trolls got to incinerate ages later, seeded across planets by these assholes?

The ones who get the chance to play what will arguably be the most important session in the history of Sburb?

Ahhh.  Okay.  So this may INDEED be something interesting, something worth seeing.  A new session, one where Dirk is the villain, Rosebot is enthralled, and old heroes are on their way to help see him thwarted.  Along with the mystery participants of a session we’ve yet to see.

Enough time goes by that she begins to wonder if he’s asleep. But no. It’s just the irritated silence of a man who knows he isn’t currently dressed well enough to attend to something important.

DIRK: Are my fucking pantaloons ready yet?

Yeah, fuck you and your anime pantaloons straight in the Yaois, Dirk Smartass.

Okay!

So that’s the end of the epilogue.  BOTH epilogues.  And... I like it.

I don’t know why.  I mean it was all excellent before, and my stomach’s still a BIT clenchy, but I like it now.  I misinterpreted things from the Meat ending, and now everything... everything makes a little more sense.  Some things seem resolved, others earned...

And... in a way I feel like I could actually oddly accept, even if there’s never anything that touches on this ever again...

It doesn’t seem “over”.  :)