#holy shit he did so much damage. and he was focused ONLY ON ME.......

[orcelito]

My druid has "fuckboy" written all over her

[tossawary]

The visible camp and sleeping setups in Baldur's Gate 3 make no sense for many reasons, but the one I'm focused on now is... where did all of this stuff COME from?

Presumably there's some in-universe explanation about fully furnished tents that you can summon or a magical bag or whatever, but I don't particularly care, honestly. Handwaving the exact mechanics in favor of fun fic ideas.

It doesn't make much sense for all of the characters to have even magical camping gear at the ready, especially at the beginning of the game: Lae'zel was part of a larger force and may not have been in charge of supplies in any fashion, and Astarion is a city boy. As far as I can remember and understand it, Gale and Shadowheart are the magical ones, and Shadowheart is the only one between them who was actually intentionally traveling on a quest. Wyll and Karlach having camping gear, yes, I buy that (although it easily could have been wrecked by or lost during all the shit that they've been through), but you also meet them both a little later than the others.

It is FAR funnier to me to imagine the party, post-crash at the beginning, being absolutely WRECKED. Everyone is covered in mind flayer ship slime, blood, and ash. Shadowheart's eyeliner is dripping down her face and there are guts in her hair. Astarion when you first meet him is a MESS who tried to fix himself up after tripping into a river. Lae'zel is missing half her clothes, perhaps, due to the fighting on the ship earlier, and she's making the awkwardness everyone else's problem.

They have no food (Lae'zel suggested cannibalism as a joke, but no one could tell that it was a joke) and one water skin. Their armor and weapons are damaged or stolen. Everyone is resigned to sleeping in the dirt, because the only other option is sharing Shadowheart's ONE single-person tent and bedroll between them all. A cuddle pile seems like a potentially deadly option.

And then they all meet Gale. And I know that he's Mr. Stay In My House For A Year Post-Break-Up, so he doesn't really seem like a camping guy, but it's really funny to me to imagine everyone being Not Very Happy to have Gale joining them (his robes are actually cleanish somehow, what the fuck, that's not fair, fucking wizards), until he starts summoning plush furniture and cooking pots out of some pocket dimension and heating water for people so they can wash their hair. And he COOKS. Holy shit. Everyone's favorite party member immediately.

Yes, it is revealed later on all of the (possibly dubiously real) tents and luxurious cushions and blankets and mirrors and atmospheric magical torches that Gale is summoning WERE all part of former magical romantic fuck-pads from his days with Mystra, so there is a non-zero chance that Gale fucked or got fucked by a goddess on every single piece of furniture in the camp. ("They're CLEAN!" Gale insists. "I WASHED THEM.") But at that point no one is willing to give up their throw pillows or sexy furs or the bathtub that could fit two people, so they all just live with it.

[sepulchralsmile]

give me your watchword, give me whatever you like

my harringrove relay race contribution following @kaizenkhaos! hope you all like!!

Well, it’s official. Steve has finally lost it.

And he thought he was doing so well, too. 

Forget all the probable brain damage from concussions over the years, all the times he’s dealt with the supernatural and alternate universes, every nightmare he’s had since junior year of high school. Sure, it wasn’t great, but he was still able to trust his own sanity, of all things.

At least until now.

Right now he’s almost completely certain he’s hallucinating. Because there is no way in hell he sees Billy fucking Hargrove on the dance floor at the gay bar he and Robin are in; shirtless and sweating and dancing. 

And like, the last time Steve saw Billy was right after Starcourt, when he was stuck in the government hospital all the way in Indianapolis. He’d driven Max there a couple times, when her step mom wasn’t feeling up to it, and had popped into Billy’s room maybe three times in total. Each time he went Billy was the same: quiet, pale, and looking entirely too fragile in the hospital bed. Not like the loud, boisterous, larger-than-life Billy Hargrove that he’d thought he’d known. They’d had a couple of stilted conversations— most of which consisted of Billy just staring at him— and that was pretty much the end of their interactions. About a month later he was transferred to Chicago, and then the only one to see him after that was just Max.

But he’d figured Billy would probably leave Chicago the second he was cleared and book it back home to California. Max was there with Lucas. Apparently, he’d stayed.

And apparently, he was at the same bar the exact same night Steve and Robin went. The same gay bar.

So, yeah. He’s officially lost his marbles. Sucks that it has to be now, like, right at this moment. But it was probably inevitable, to be honest.

“Hey!” Robin screams in his ear, leaning close and shoving a shot into his clammy palms. She’s been up at the bar for the last ten minutes, fighting against the crowd to get them drinks. She furrows her brows at whatever’s on his face. “What’s wrong? What’s with the look?”

Instead of answering right away, he throws the drink back first. Resists the instinct to ralph it back up immediately, focusing instead on swallowing through the burn down his throat. Fuck. He has to screw his eyes shut for a second and try to breathe through his nose. It’s been a while since he’s had tequila, but Robin’s been pushing him all night to just relax, so it figures that this is what she would poison him with.

It at least helps soften the edges of everything, so when he finally opens his eyes and blinks past the burn of alcohol, he’s brave enough to point across the room. “Tell me what you see, please. And be honest. Even if there’s no one there.”

Robin’s head swivels in the direction that he’s pointing, and her mouth immediately drops open, while his stomach sinks into his gut. No way. No fucking way.

“Holy fucking shit!” Robin screams, punching him in the shoulder, “That’s fucking Hargrove!”

“So you see him too?” He asks weakly, mouth clicking on a dry swallow. 

“Um, it’s kinda hard not to,” Robin rolls her eyes at him, shoving him in the chest this time. “I mean— just look at him.”

He is. Steve’s been staring at him this entire time. Billy’s still in the middle of the floor, just moving with the music, dancing with no one in particular. He’s completely shirtless; scars on full display but not looking like that’s bothering him in the slightest. He’s grinning to himself. There’s perspiration on his chest, making it shine when the strobe lights beat down on him. 

He looks the same as he did in high school but… bigger. So much bigger. No longer suffering from the extreme weight loss and muscle atrophy from Starcourt. His hair is glossy and shiny, reflecting the colors of the lights strobing around him. He looks so healthy, too, it’s like he’s practically glowing. Which could be the effect from the club’s lights— but he’s not entirely convinced. There’s no doubt about it: Billy looks good.

It’s all just making Steve hot under the collar, but it’s like he can’t look away. It’s just… fucking insane. That’s why he can’t stop looking. No other reason, at all.

When he turns back, Robin is watching him now— eyes narrowed in a way that only spells trouble for him. She opens her mouth, ready to say something that’s probably about to completely disrupt his entire existence and peace as he knows it.

“Do you think he knows it’s a gay bar?” Steve blurts before he can think better, screaming over the bass. Fuck, that shot is getting to him. His cheeks go warm.

Now Robin is looking at him like he’s the craziest thing in here. “Uh, yeah Steve. I’d say he probably knows this is a gay bar.” Her eyes narrow into slits and she leans in closer. “Why are you acting so weird?”

“Me?” 

“Yes, you!”

“He’s— he’s in a fucking gay bar!” He gestures towards Billy’s direction, verging on hysterical. Robin doesn’t seem to understand how fucking crazy this information is, though, laughing at him outright.

“I hate to point this out, honey— but we’re in a gay bar, too.”

“Yeah, but we’re—” he waves a hand in between them, “you know.”

She quirks a brow. “And what if he’s ‘you know’ too?”

He scoffs, shrugging her off. Refuses to even let himself start thinking in that direction. “No way.”

“Steve, he is literally in a gay bar,” she looks over his shoulder and her eyes get big and wide, “and he’s also coming this way, so. Look alive!”

He wheels around and— sure enough, there’s Hargrove. Making his way towards them, eyes pinned directly on Steve. Slinking over to them, smooth and deadly like a big cat; prowling like he’s just seen a tasty cut of meat. He doesn’t look mad, or anything, but the intensity is enough to have Steve backing into Robin. 

“We gotta go,” he hisses out the corner of his mouth, hand reaching behind him to find her.

But Robin, the fucking traitor, pushes him forward hard enough that he goes stumbling right into— oh, yep. That’s Billy’s chest. His naked chest. The one that’s hard as a rock with packed muscle. The sweaty one. And yeah, that’s definitely Billy holding him by the forearms and straightening him out. Oh, Christ. He’s so warm. This is so bad.

“Harrington,”  Billy drawls, grinning like the cat who got the canary. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Steve flaps his mouth open and shut for a couple seconds, desperately trying to find something to say that isn’t just holy shit holy shit holy shit. His voice is deeper than it was in high school. It’s currently Doing Things to Steve, right now. Billy just quirks the corner of his mouth up, amused, eyes roving over Steve’s face before settling on Robin behind him.

“Hey, Buckley,” he greets, like it’s no big deal, like they see each other every Tuesday, or some shit. “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good; just living life, all that jazz,” Robin babbles from behind him. Steve’s expecting the light push on his back this time, firmly fighting against it and staying in place instead of stumbling into Billy again. Gritting his teeth and trying to think past the pounding pulse in his neck.

“Good to hear,” Billy nods, eyes flicking to Steve to give him a full-body once over before shifting back to her. “Cat got Harrington’s tongue or something? I’ve been told I can make people speechless.” He tosses a wink her way, and Steve can hear her gagging audibly over the pounding bass.

“Are you gay?” he blurts out before he can stop himself. The second the words are out of his mouth he clamps his jaw shut, wishing there was some way he could wire it closed before he says mortifying shit like that. It’s just that… he has to know. He has to. Like, it’s not enough that Billy’s here— but he’s gotta hear the words too, like an extra form of assurance.

Turns out whatever he was worried for was all for nothing, though, because Billy just tosses his head back and laughs. A full on belly laugh, too, like this is the funniest shit he’s heard all week. Which, you know, is fair. And he’s not ashamed to admit it’s an attractive laugh, so.  Steve’s cheeks go even hotter, if it’s possible.

“Holy shit,” Billy wipes a tear from his eye, still giggling a little. Steve desperately tries not to hone in on that sound. “Damn, I needed that. Yeah, Harrington, I am. Which is why I’m celebrating my birthday in a gay bar.”

“It’s your birthday?” Steve latches on to the most random part of the statement, trying to get his head to stop spinning about the fact that Billy just came out like it was nothing. Like it’s not throwing his mind through an absolute loop. Completely erasing the previously formed perception of the macho, straight Billy Hargrove that he knew in high school. Upending his idea of reality as he knows it.

Billy’s grin is softer, now. It looks really good on him, Steve finds himself noticing. “Yeah, pretty boy, it is.” 

And— oh god, he hasn’t heard that in so long. That’s the only reason why he gets a full body shiver at the nickname.

Of course Billy notices, though, because his smile sharpens into something more deadly. He leans into Steve’s space, and it takes all of his self control not to pant like a dog at the combined scent of Billy’s sweat and cologne. It’s heady and overwhelming; making his nerves light on fire while his mouth gets wet. Fuck, this is bad. This is way bad. Billy’s canines look sharper in the pulsing overhead lights.

“So, Harrington,” he purrs, so close now it’s impossible not to hear him over the thumping bass. A shiver runs down Steve’s spine. “You gonna give me a birthday dance? A little present just for me?”

He’s pretty sure he short-circuits then. Just, like, goes completely offline while he stares at Billy, mouth hanging open like he’s trying to catch flies, or something. Of all the things he expected— it wasn’t that.

Billy just watches with an easy grin, one eyebrow going up as he glances over Steve’s shoulder.

“Should I take that as a no?” He asks Robin, teasing, “Or is going speechless a good sign?”

“A good sign!” Robin yells over his shoulder, before she leans forward into his ear and grabs him tightly around the biceps, “Say something, you idiot,” she hisses in his ear.

He fucking would if he could, okay? As it is, he’s having trouble even taking in air without choking and hacking on it like he’s deranged, or something. Billy Hargrove is offering him a dance. Scratch that: a gay, shirtless, indecently sweaty Billy Hargrove is offering him a dance.

Billy waggles his eyebrows. “Well?” One of his hands sweeps along Steve’s side, grazing his arm on the way down before landing on his waist. All the hairs on his body stand up, like he’s been electrified. “C’mon, pretty boy, don’t leave me hanging.”

And, like. God. That old nickname is really doing something for him. Makes him go hot all over, cheeks heating up under Billy’s gaze. Erasing any and all forms of higher thinking in his brain. It’s enough to make him nod at Billy, like he’s in a trance. Mouth going as dry as cotton and clicking with every swallow.

Luckily, Billy doesn’t seem to mind the fact that he’s gone nonverbal. He just flashes another smile at Robin with gleaming white teeth— something shark-like about it— and tugs on the hem of Steve’s shirt, dragging him out onto the dance floor.

Steve follows him, mouth still dry as dust and heart rabbiting in his chest. Trying to keep his breathing calm and steady. There’s so many bodies that they’re practically pressed together as they weave through the crowd, settling some place between the center of the dance floor and where Robin is standing on the outskirts, sending him a quick thumbs up when his anxious gaze catches hers across the room. Good luck! she mouths, making big eyes at him. Steve just swallows down his nerves and turns back to Billy.

Jesus, he used to be smooth. Once upon a time he was a real lady-killer with a silver tongue and an endless vat of confidence. Now he feels like a deer in headlights, waiting for Billy to make the first move.

And he does. One second he’s staring at Billy, motionless and tethered to the spot. Holding his breath in anticipation and waiting for whatever happens next. The next moment, Billy’s using his grip on Steve’s shirt to twist him around, so his back is plastered to Billy’s chest. Billy’s sweaty, naked chest. It’s like a firm brick wall behind him, making him shockingly aware of how easy it is to manhandle him around— also making him fucking salivate. Billy’s so goddamn strong, it feels like his head is spinning.

Before Steve can start fucking hyperventilating, Billy’s other hand falls to his hip. Both hands grip him tight, slipping under his t-shirt to touch his waist, skimming his fingers along the skin underneath lightly. His hands are so warm Steve’s pretty sure he’s about to spontaneously combust, or something. Deep breaths, he tries to tell himself, just keep taking deep breaths.

When Billy starts nudging him a little to move his hips, Steve goes with the movement. Sort of. He tries to sway to the beat, but he can barely hear past the roar of blood rushing in his ears. Can’t even hear the music playing. Trying not to seem like a robot, even though he’s shifting all stilted and weird like he’s never danced a day in his life before.

He’s just having a hard time getting out of his head, is the thing. It’s throwing him through fucking loop, trying to reconcile the image of Billy he’d had up until this point— and the knowledge that he’s been dead wrong probably this entire time. All he can think is a constant loop of holy shit, I’m dancing with Billy Hargrove in a gay bar. 

Behind him, Billy huffs into his ear. His hot breath ghosts down Steve’s nape, sending another round of goosebumps breaking out over his skin. “You okay, baby? Need some help?”

And. Wow, um. Okay.

He’s so caught off guard by the sheer wave of want lurching through his gut that he doesn’t even reply, just nods desperately and pushes himself closer to into Billy’s chest. Relishing the way Billy tightens his grip even more, moving his hips into a smooth, steady grind. Grumbling low and deep behind him, like he’s satisfied.

Steve should probably be ashamed of panting openly in the club, eyes shutting tightly as his jaw hangs loose. He can’t find it in himself to give a shit, though, especially when he can feel Billy’s ragged breaths on the back of his neck. Billy’s hands go from clenching the sides of his hips to smoothing down, lowering closer to his center, holding him around the front of his hip bones. Dragging fingers across his stomach in a way that makes Steve shake where he stands. Still firm and unyielding, physically dragging Steve back into the clutch of his hips as the bass around them pounds relentlessly.

He feels the light imprint of lips on the back of his neck, followed by the quick, darting lick of a tanuge.The frisson of white-hot heat that’s been building in his gut feels like it bursts through his stomach and spreads across the rest of his skin, making him shiver back into Billy’s grip and desperately scrabble at something to hold onto; eventually gripping Billy’s forearms and feeling the cord of muscle tighten under his fingers with each movement. 

Billy makes a choked noise behind him, right in Steve’s ear, making him feel wild. He can’t help but laugh out loud in disbelief as he recognizes the scene he’s currently in: pressed up against Billy Hargrove in a gay club grinding with his mouth open, looking all sorts of wanton. He doesn’t even wanna think if Robin’s still watching at this point. He’s almost close to no shame, pushing back into Billy’s grip and turning his head so their mouths are closer.

“Harrington,” Billy grounds out, and Steve hates how much he already misses pretty boy instead, “you’re driving me crazy, pressed up against me like that.”

“Yeah?” Steve’s breathless, feeling a little manic. Shoves his hips back into Billy’s while giggling all high and desperate. Trying to maybe get those lips on the back of his neck again. Or somewhere else. Can barely even recognize himself when he asks, “You gonna do something about it?”

Billy makes a low noise behind him, fingers tightening enough to bruise as he drags Steve back towards him again, breathing hot down his neck. Steve jumps at the cold press of Billy’s nose to the side of his throat, but calms down a second later when he feels warm breath fan out over his nape. 

“You saying I should?” Billy grits out roughly. The vibration against his neck has Steve fighting back a gasp, squirming in his hold and digging his fingers in the meat of Billy’s forearms. He feels like he’s about to catch on fire in the middle of the club. 

It feels like he’s been possessed or something; scooped out of his own body and replaced with a pod person. It’s the only way he can explain the hot rush that spreads like a wave through his body. It’s also the only way he can justify tilting his head to the side. Asking without really asking. Hoping that maybe Bilyy understands what he wants, even if he doesn’t say it out loud.

They lock eyes over Steve’s shoulder. Billy’s eyes are bright and magnetic, fixed on Steve’s face with a sort of hunger he’s pretty sure he’s never seen actually directed towards him. Billy looks like he’s burning up too; sweaty and seeming just as desperate as Steve feels.

“Lemme taste you, pretty boy,” Billy practically begs into his ear, breathing gone harsh and choppy. Steve feels all the air leave his body at once as a hot rush of a tidal wave knocks him down, raising his temperature by a couple thousand degrees. “C’mon, baby, just wanna get my mouth on you.”

God. He just. Can’t help but shiver at pretty boy and baby.

And it’s Billy’s birthday, okay? Who is he to resist the wishes of the birthday boy? What kind of a person would he be? It’s pretty flimsy reasoning, he’s aware, but it’s the final hurdle he clears before he’s nodding in response, tilting his head back just another inch so Billy can lean in and finally close the distance. He screws his eyes shut and holds his breath, waiting for Billy to pounce.

And he does. Without waiting another second, he swoops in; twisting Steve so they’re facing each other head on. There’s barely a second for Steve to get startled by the abrupt change in movement before Billy’s leaning forward, licking into his mouth without any other preamble. The first kiss is more like a chaotic frenzy: teeth clacking together as they pant into each other’s mouths, Billy licking behind his gums and going straight up to the roof of his mouth. Trying to taste every inch of Steve’s mouth, it feels like. Steve’s hands scrabbling for purchase on his biceps. Before long, though, it peters into something less harried and desperate, and more into something wide and enveloping. Without a second thought he’s winding his arms around Billy’s neck; one hand gripping onto his sweaty shoulder while the other wanders up to his hair, digging his fingers into the curls at the root. At that, Billy makes a low noise, and pushes into him further.

It feels like he’s losing his mind. Losing time too, for sure, because at this point it feels like they've been kissing in the middle of the dance floor for hours. He kisses Steve in a way he’s never been kissed before: pure want and need  practically pouring from him in every movement. Steve breaks away to take in a gasp of air, head spinning, and Billy quickly draws him back in with a hand on his jaw. His fingers grip tight enough to make Steve open his mouth a little more, and he nearly collapses when Billy immediately licks behind his teeth, holding him there firm as he gets a thorough tour of Steve’s mouth. The last time he made out with someone was like three months ago, and it was nothing compared to this. No kiss he’s had has ever been something like this. Something that makes him feel so desperate he’s gonna die if he doesn’t get more.

Billy finally takes pity on his mental state by gradually lightening up on the pressure, slowing down until he’s just sucking wet kisses to the side of Steve’s mouth and jawline as he tries to get his breathing back under control, staring blankly at the jumble of bodies ahead of him as he tries to get oxygen back up to his brain.

Holy shit. He can’t help but shake in Billy’s arms a little, wrecked from the continuous attention, squirming at the kisses pressing down from his jawline to the side of his neck. His fingers tighten in Billy’s hair involuntarily, and the huff he gets against his neck in response almost has him dragging Billy back up to his mouth. He resists. Barely.

Billy finally pulls back from his neck with an audible pop! and eyes that look just as dazed as Steve’s probably do. Steve can only watch, entranced, as Billy licks a line of spit from his shiny red mouth. Lips swollen from practically mauling Steve’s face just a minute ago. Billy’s eyes never leave his. Steve’s panting like he just ran a marathon, and his arms shake where they’re tightly wound around Billy.

“Woah,” he breathes, and then immediately wants to smack himself after. Woah? That’s all he can say? After Billy Hargrove just tongue-fucked him for like ten minutes straight in the middle of the club?

Billy lets out a breathy laugh, hands smoothly moving down from his waist to dig into his back pockets. Steve stops breathing for a second. Billy flexes his fingers in the pockets, cupping Steve’s ass through the denim. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

Steve blinks back at him, thrown. His mouth drops open a little. “Really?” 

He’d honestly thought it was the fluke of the century; making out with Billy Hargrove in a gay club kind of seemed like a serendipitous anomaly that the universe chugged out maybe once every ten thousand years. One of those things that made sense at the time and with the circumstances, but if he’d actually heard it he would never believe it. Finding out that Billy actually wanted to kiss him? And it apparently wasn’t the first time he wanted to do it? Steve was pretty sure his brain was melting in between his ears, trying to make sense of the whole thing. It takes him a minute to blink past the confusion so he can ask, “For how long?”

Billy throws his head back and laughs the second time that evening. Steve can’t help but admire the lines that crinkle around his mouth and eyes. Somehow, Billy even makes wrinkles look good. He tightens his grip around Billy when he notices others admiring, too.

“For-fucking-ever, babe,” Billy finally gets out, eyes roaming over Steve’s face. Looking intense and searching as he bites his lip. Steve’s eyes track the movement, and he feels his own mouth go dry. Making him feel breathless and squirming as Billy keeps on looking. “If I could’ve had you that first day, I would’ve.”

And— what?

He can’t keep the surprise off his face even as Billy lets out another bray of laughter. He’s too busy trying to comprehend a reality where Billy apparently wanted him this whole time and— “What the fuck?”

Billy at least has the decency to look sheepish, peering at Steve from under his thick lashes. Knowing exactly what that look is doing to him. “I never said I was smart about it. I wanted you so fucking bad, I couldn’t even think.”

Steve has to shut his eyes. Shake his head past the disbelief and utter shock he’s experiencing right now. “Fuck, Billy, I—”

“Why do you think I was always on you, huh?” Billy’s voice is right in his ear again, deep and smooth. Making Steve’s hands drop to his shoulders and grapple for purchase. “Had to always have your eyes on me, no matter what. Couldn’t help myself.”

And, okay. Yeah. Now that he says it like that, Steve has a way easier time believing that Billy’s actually wanted him for this long. All at once his mind brings up every interaction they had in high school, rolling down through the words and images and lighting up with understanding— followed by embarrassment at somehow not seeing it before. Jesus, Billy was obvious in high school, now that he actually thinks about it. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah, it was pretty fuckin’ embarrassing,” Billy laughs, shrugging his shoulders. Squeezes Steve’s ass again, making his head spin. He leans closer, and Steve feels the air between them ignite. “But I have your eyes on me now, don’t I?”

When Steve doesn’t answer at first, still too overcome by everything, Billy tightens the grip on his ass through his back pockets, digging his fingers into the meat of his cheeks. Tugging and kneading so rough that Steve gasps wetly, writhing in Billy’s grip and pressing himself forward. “Don’t I?”

“Yes,” Steve practically sobs, fingers straightening and curling over Billy’s sweaty skin, fingers slipping as he tries to regain balance and control. He can feel it slipping fast; the scales tilting into further desperation as Billy holds him close, whispering hot into his ear.

“You gonna let me take you home?” Billy practically purrs now, one hand reaching up to cup his jaw again. Pulling him back a little so they’re looking into each other’s eyes. His grip is tight, but his gaze is warm as he asks again, “You gonna let me treat you right, pretty boy? Show you what I wanted to do to you in high school?”

“Yes, fuck, yes,” He blabbers back, not able to say yes fast enough. Maybe there’s a part of him that should feel ashamed at how eagerly he accepts, but it’s easy to ignore when Billy keeps staring at him like how he is now: utterly obsessed. Looking like he’s about to devour Steve right there in the middle of the club, and— oh fuck. “Wait,” it’s a conscious effort to fight past the cobwebs clinging to his brain, “Robin.”

Billy snorts, nodding at something over his shoulder. “Pretty sure she’ll be fine for the night, baby.”

When Steve cranes his head over his shoulder he sees Robin hovering by the bar, engaged in an animated conversation with a girl that involves way too many hand gestures. Still, she looks like she’s holding her own. And it’s kind of reassuring to know that she wasn’t just, like, staring at him making out with Billy for the last ten minutes. Even out of morbid curiosity.

Feeling bold because of the kiss, and more brazen than he’s ever felt in a while, Steve turns back to Billy. Slides his hands up his chest, resting over his pecs. Thumbing at his nipples, getting his fill of warm, sweaty skin beneath his palms. Reveling in the way Billy shivers beneath his touch, gripping him even tighter. “Okay, birthday boy: take me back to yours. Rock my world.”

He feels a little shaky saying it, but the answering grin he gets from Billy is worth it for the trouble. One of Billy’s hands leaves his back pocket to hold his hand, fingers intertwining with Steve’s in a way that has his brain melting even further. Oh, god. How is hand holding the thing that’s fucking him up the most?

“C’mon, pretty boy,” Billy tugs at their tangled fingers, “let’s get outta here.”

Billy pulls and Steve stumbles after him, sending one quick wave Robin’s way before he follows; cheeks red and eyes bright. When Billy turns to glance behind him he just gives him a smile. Billy squeezes their hands once before turning back around. Steve lets himself be tugged, running a free hand through his hair as he lets the goofy grin spill across his face. Jesus. He’s probably about to be fucked by Billy Hargrove tonight. And he’s excited about it. Whew. High school Steve wouldn’t know what hit him.But high school Steve apparently affected Billy a lot, so— he squeezes his own fingers around Billy, going breathless and smiling back softly when Billy tosses a fond look over his shoulder. Yeah, tonight’s gonna be good.

~~~

i hope you all liked it, i'll be posting it on ao3 as well later :) next in the race is @writer-in-theory!!

[verdemoun]

feels like a very dumb ask as its not related to your timewarp au but do you have any darragh and sean headcanons😔

catch me jumping through the inbox seeing darragh and just jumping ahead through my queue i promise fellas i am working through it

it was only ever sean and darragh. sean never really asked because he knew that lots of boys didn't grow up with mothers and he was so lucky that darragh tried so hard to make sure he had everything he needed instead of sending him to the workhouse

... sean's mother was actually the daughter of one of darragh's political opponents who happened to be a unionist sympathizer. while she was never going to be mrs macguire, when she realized she was pregnant she very merrily followed her father's wishes to go to a mother's home but used every ounce of influence being upper class to tell darragh he was a father and he was absolutely not letting his son fall into an adoption scheme or left to die of neglect

sean absolutely never learned this because the implication is his mother was in fact at least partly english. he is not the pure irish terrier he assumes and that would probably kill him -150% max hp in psychological damage

darragh macguire, the ever complex articulate highwayman who could also run circles around politicians and protestants in civil debate vanished entirely from public eye for the first two years of sean's life. there was no parenting courses let alone fathering courses and while his gang were an extension of his family much like the VDLs he did not tell a single one of them he was a parent because he knew they would see having a child as a distraction from the cause.

he didn't know how to change a diaper or look after a baby. learning to bottle feed a baby was his personal nightmare. sean absolutely had a murder bottle. darragh absolutely put a touch of whiskey or opium medicines on the nipple almost daily to get sean to settle for a few minutes of peace.

he lost days worth of sleep watching sean wondering what the holy hell he was doing trying to look after a baby and sometimes convincing himself in a 'i'm not a bad person wishing my son dead but the fact is most (80% holy hell) babies do not make it to two years old'. he kept the cash on hand to pay for a funeral at all times even if it meant them both going without necessities

he only figured out supporting a baby's head because thankfully sean was as vocal as a baby as he was as an adult and basically became his own life alert.

it wasn't until sean was approaching two, already in the full throws of the terrible twos running around the house squealing his favorite word being screaming NO!!! in response to any question and a hurricane of energy and bad choices climbing up furniture and the walls, while darragh is trying to sit and read hiding his coping beverage behind the paper, that darragh actually realized oh shit i am a da. this thing is not leaving my house and oh no i love him

any conversation with sean was the classic trying to tell a story while jingling keys in an attempt to keep him focused but once finally darragh accepted he was in fact the sole parent of this bundle of constant self-inflicted bruises from his own clumsy recklessness he very much embraced it

yes sean did his absolute head in: trying to plan a heist as he refound his outlawing roots while kid is tugging on his pants asking a million questions and demanding his attention to show him cool rock/bug/glass bottle/DA LOOK A KNIFE :D

darragh would regularly forget sean was a child and not in fact bulletproof. throwing sean too high in the air accidentally dropping him and sean lands on the ground peter griffin style only to bounce up with a blood nose screaming again again again!!

sean was only four the first time darragh took him out on gang activities instead of leaving him in the care of a trusted neighbor and it was a core memory. he held his son simba style and let him throw the match that proceeded to set a landowner's fields ablaze

darragh was a goofy parent being a responsible adult was not natural to him like imagine young john if john actually cared levels of stupid. sean could say the dumbest thing and darragh just nods thoughtfully yes let's we absolutely should go sling rocks through windows and run away, yeah i reckon if you flick a spoonful of mash potato at me i can catch it in my mouth let's try it

bedtime stories were just darragh reading unionist handouts with voices and the pacing of a picture book 'the poor irish boy was so hungry his raggedy clothes fell off because they were too big for his scrawny shoulders but the big nasty fat englishman still said he needed the food more!!' sean was indoctrinated into anti-british sentiment before he could even write his name.

[fandomworld9728]

Lucifer's Magic Outing Him Chapter 1 - Charlie (Goat):

After the hotel had been rebuilt, Lucifer had been invited to stay and help out. Which, of course he agreed to instantly. He wasn't going to pass up the chance to make things up to his darling daughter and start to truly mend their relationship. So, imagine his delight when she asked for his help in taking care of her hooves when she got herself too busy to tend to them herself or she just forgot to do it.

Deciding to make it a learning experience, Lucifer set up everything he needed in the foyer where him, Charlie, and Vaggie were sitting. What kind of dad would he be if he didn't teach his daughter's girlfriend how to properly take care of her for when he wasn't around? Though, it seemed their little lesson had gotten the attention of the rest of the residents of the hotel. Not that he minded. He was too focused on carefully cleaning and filing the poor neglected hoof in his hand. 

"I didn't think ya actually had hooves. What animal do they belong ta?"

"Goat. Me and my dad are goats." 

All eyes turned to Lucifer, making him pause mid reach for the special polish he needed to apply. "...What?" 

Angel was the first one to break the silence with a big, mischievous grin on his face. "Show us."

"Uh... I-I don't think that's- I'd rather not." Oh. But he did need his own hooves done and it would be so much easier getting it done right here where the stuff is already out. But his self-consciousness won out against his comfort yet again.

Sensing this, Charlie smiled and pulled Vaggie close to her. "How about Vaggie and I tend to your hooves for you? Please dad? No one here is going to judge you for your legs or hooves."

"Yeah. Just look at Angel Dust. He's a spider covered in pink fur."

Lucifer thought about it while he applied the polish to his daughter's hooves. He couldn't just turn down a request from her. Especially one like this. And his own hooves really did need tending to... Alright. Just get it over with as quick as possible. Removing his boots and pulling up his pant legs, he tried to ignore the happy cheering when he finally agreed and the intense, curious staring. 

"Okay. Here they are." He tried his best to relax as he leaned back on the couch and let the two girls tend to his wore down and damaged feet. "Don't worry about the wear and tear. Once you get going, they'll heal on their own."

"Holy shit. For someone who don't really take care of their self, ya got some soft fur." Angel commented, petting the blonde and almost silky, thick fur on his legs. "Got some tangles but that seems about it. Oh! You gotta a comb or something? I can take care of them for ya."

"What?" 

"Angel. Grooming is very intimate. Usually only reserved for family and lovers. You shouldn't just go around offering that kind of care."

"Oh, shit. I'm sorry-"

Shaking off his shock, Lucifer couldn't keep the flustered smile off his face. "N-no it's fine! Really. I appreciate the offer. Vaggie is right that it's meant for the people closest to you. So... honestly, I'm really happy."

"Aww~ See dad? I told you; you're a part of our little family here."

"Yeah. I guess I don't have to worry about that anymore, huh?" Handing over the comb to the spider demon, Lucifer watched how careful he was being. Starting at the fur at his ankles and detangling the knots in small sections and slowly moving up to where the fur started just above his knees. He couldn't believe how lucky he was.

He would definitely have to do something for the three of them as a way to thank them.

Next >

[blackjackkent]

"The brain is weakened!" Orpheus howls over the dreadful noise of the Netherbrain's screaming and the mechanical whine of the nautiloid "This is our chance!"

A portal has been ripped open in space by the Netherstones, a path into that strange blood-red realm where the brain's true form resides.

Its dark eyes peer out at Hector, seeming to see through him despite the distance.

"--cannot- --WILL NOT-- submit--"

Narrator: Even bound, its will is stronger than anything you've ever felt. The chains shake, threatening to break at any moment.

"It's vulnerable but not defeated!" Orpheus calls. "Use the portal; we will bring it down together!"

He suits the action to the word, clambering through the portal himself, not checking to see that the others are following.

"--absolute-- ---WILL--- ABSOLUTE-- FREEDOM------"

The brain screams, resonating through them all like an electric shock.

Oh, gods. Here we go.

-----

This is definitely one of those scenarios where having our whole party focused around close-range damage is a little stressful. However, the thing has less HP than the dragon did, so theoretically this shouldn't be too terrible.

ROUND 1!

The platforms are all targetable, which is concerning and leads me to worry some of them could get swatted out from under us.

This feels like a good time to bust out Isobel's giant healing ability since everyone is looking a little rough going into this new fight.

I thought the enemy dream guardian was dead. She wasn't, but she did prove her worth by casting "Command: Flee" on Jaheira's Grasping Vine, which cannot, in fact, move.

I initially thought the brain straight up didn't do anything but shout on its turn, but then I looked at the combat log:

That seems bad.

Sent everyone through the portal; indeed some of the platforms are lit up and about to be exploded, including one that Orpheus is standing on. Everyone else can't quite get near the thing, but I have Karlach give it a shot from range and it doesn't seem to like that much.

Holy shit. It can only do it once a turn though (I think? Theoretically? I have Jaheira throw an ice knife at it and it doesn't do it again, so hopefully.) So we need to get everyone close to it and do as much damage on a turn as possible.

Hector's the last one in, and with his tremendous movement speed is actually able to get close enough to get some hits in. He whiffs one but still manages to get the brain down below 200HP.

Orpheus gets out of the way of the explody orb and gets close enough to cast his Potent Concentrated Blast.

The brain's second turn marks most of the remaining platforms for negation, which is... concerning. Annoyingly, the effect is hard to discern also which makes it very stressful.

Karlach manages to get to a safe place and slams another 65 points off. We're down under 100 HP, and Hector's up! Hector eats 100HP characters for breakfast!

HECTOR GETS THE FINAL BLOW!!!!!!!

[idk6123]

A Fellow Journalist (Frank West X Male Reader)

And so, his quest for searching the truth continues. Just arriving at Paradise Plaza, Frank heads to his next objectives. Between the important missions, trying not to die to the zombies and psychopaths and rescuing any survivor, Frank has been stressing way too much. And so, he’s on edge 24/7. Because of it, he’s on high alert. And so, he hears something that doesn’t sound normal. Photo’s being made, as well as footsteps only alive people can make, however as Frank tries to sneakily look what’s going on, he doesn’t see anyone.

Thus, he quickly thought up a plan. One where he can confront however is following him. He heads to the back of the plaza, pass the toilets and to the staircase. He uses it to get to the next floor, and arrive at hallway, hiding against the wall to jump on however it is. He focuses on the entry way, waiting for a few seconds. He hears quiet footsteps that comes closer. Soon enough, a man enters the hallway, not aware of Frank’s presence, who is behind him.

“Hey-”

The man jumps and let out a scream. Within an instance, he grabs his taser from his belt and begin using it on Frank. However he soon stops, though the damage has been done, with the journalist spacing around and falling on the ground.

“Holy shit! Why did you do that?”

Frank glares up to the stranger, still recovering from the attack. “I can say the s-same about you.” He can still feel the electricity through his body.

The stranger puts his taser back and offers a hand, one that Frank accepts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stun you.”

“But stalking is?”

“I wasn’t stalking.” The stranger defends himself. “I was just doing my job, just like you West.”

Frank didn’t expect him to know him. “You know me?”

“Yeah. We’re colleagues after all, and you got quiet a reputation.” The man offers a hand for Frank to shake. “Name is Y/N L/N. Independent journalist.”

Frank accepts his hand but is still cautious about him. “Nice to meet you, but you forgot to tell me why you were following me.”

“Well, like you, I’m searching for the truth. I look around the place for any clue, only to discover you. Since I just arrived, I expected you to have a better idea what’s going on. So I just follow you and if there was a chance you were going to die and grabbing the left over scraps and continue searching.” Y/N explains, feeling no remorse for his actions.

“In other words, you’re a vulture?” Frank gives him a tired look.

“Isn’t that how life works? Someone dies, and someone else pick up the leftover pieces.”

Frank let out a sigh. “I can tell you’re going to be a hassle.”

“I won’t.” Y/N respond. “I got enough self-defense training. I killed plenty zombies. Speaking of which, before entering the mall, I did research into them.”

These intrigues Frank. “Anything useful?”

 “Some. But you gotta give me credits.” Y/N demands. He’s quick to grab his notepad to look at his notes. “Let’s see. They love eating human meat.”

“Wow. What a revelation.” Frank says without a joy.

“They look like they don’t have pain. The brain is the weakest parts. Any amputation doesn’t seem to be bothering them. Oh! And they have these insects in them.” Y/N grabs a glass jar from his pocket, showing the parasite alive, making Frank uncomfortable. “I think these little guys are the source of the zombies. Not sure how though. If only I could test on people…”

Y/N gives an interested look to Frank, who look deadpanned at him. “No.”

“Well, I won’t force you.” Y/N shrugs and continues to look at the parasite. “Maybe another time Mr. Wexler.”

“You give it a name…?”

“Yep. I’m constantly under stress, and I learned to look things at the bright side. Might as well have some fun with the little things.”

Frank sighs. “This man…” He put his hand on his temple, only to remove it and look back at his colleague. “Look, maybe it’s better if-” He stops talking as Y/N continues focusing on the wasp. “Put that thing away.” Without question, Y/N did so. “Look, whatever you heard about me, you can’t compare it to whatever is going on here. And I’m not sure you’re a fan, or just a guy doing his job, but you can’t expect me to know how to properly handle this. So I give you two options, although I know you chose a certain one. First, I bring you to the safehouse, where your safe and bring you info.”

“And where I can’t do my job. I take the second option.”

“You don’t even know what it is.” Frank argues back.

“And?”

Frank let out a tired sigh. “Or you come with me, watch each other’s back and get the scoops together.” He put out his hand. “I’m guessing you take the second offer. So, you’re in?”

With a wide smile without any hint of fear, Y/N accepts his hand. “I sure am.”

-

Somehow, to Frank’s surprise, he managed to work well with Y/N. He’s not as incompetent as his odd character seem to be. With his help, he manages to find the truth about the outbreak of Willamette. If only they knew they were going to it again, 5 years later at a place they didn’t expect it to be, Fortune City in Nevada.

And so, now without his buddy at his side, Frank investigates whoever caused this outbreak, entering Uranus Zone. From the camera’s, he saw together with Stacey one of her fellow CURE members, going to the bathroom with a captive. And so, once he enters the zone, he’s ready to push his way through the zombies and towards Brandon, though what he didn’t expect to see an old face he hasn’t seen in years.

“Y/N?” Frank enters a militances room, seeing the other journalist stich something up together.

The man looks back to see him. He instantly smiles. “Frankie! It’s good to see you.”

“You too, even if it’s again in an outbreak.” Frank tiredly adds the later parts. “You’re here to investigate this whole ordeal?”

“Yep. You?”

“Well, I originally went here for vacation, but plans changed.” Frank let out a huff. “Speaking of, last time we made a pretty sweet duo. Ready for a second time?”

“Depends.” Y/N answers. “What’s up with that clip Channel 6 showed?”

“It’s fake.” Frank replies, still mad that however behind this would smear his reputation.

“I know. I just wanted to hear it from you.” The journalist shows a shit-eating grin. “And it was pretty obvious. By the way the face has been covered, to the body type. They could’ve just give the outfit to someone larger.”

“Gee, thanks for the complements.” Frank scoffs, though he doesn’t sound offended since he doesn’t care much.

“Hey, I don’t meant it as an insult. I still think you look handsome, even if you have a bit more to love.” Y/N defends himself, but it doesn’t help.

“I rather want you to call me fat than ‘more to love’. And can we get pass about my appearance. There are better things we can do.”

“Oh yeah.” Y/N is easy to shrug off the small discussion. “Wait, what we’re talking about?”

Frank knows he’s doing this on purpose. “Us teaming up. Remember?”

“Yeah. That sounds good.” Y/N agrees to the idea. “I almost got shredded by a tiger and killed by an alcoholic biker. It appears psychos are here as well, sadly. And I prefer not dying anytime soon.”

“Sure thing. I’m not going to let you die anything soon.” Frank assures. “Now, are we going to go? Or do you want to comment about my appearance again?”

“Sure. I think you looked pretty cute back at Willamette, but you looked like you aged 20 years or something.” Frank looks deadpanned at Y/N, who continues talking. “I know a great therapist. We can go together after we’re done. Sounds fun, doesn’t?”

Frank sighs. “I should’ve seen this coming.”

-

After several hours and days later, and the truth behind the Fortune City outbreak has been uncovered, with the discovery that Phenotrans and Tyrone King was behind it all. With their motivation creating more Zombrex and money.

After the discovery and the death of their member, Stacey Forsythe, Phenotrans will be dealt with after the journalists exposes the truth. That leaves TK, however as Frank arrived back at the safehouse, he discovers that the culprit is gone. However, what he soon discovers that he escaped and kidnapped Y/N. In order to save him, he needs to do many tedious tasks just to please TK.

After collecting everything, he headed to the arena, only to get knocked out and get put in an arena, with his opponent, TK. Even without his weapons, Frank could beat him easily. However, there is a twist. Y/N life is on the line, as he’s dangling on the rope that slowly descends to the zombie filled ground.

During the fight, Y/N felt anxious that his life would end, as he continues to go down, only to be lifted up, and then again go down. He can only ears the fighting that is going up the platform, but the journalist has no idea who’s winning.

That’s when he hears screaming. He quickly snaps his view upon however makes the sound. That’s when he sees TK falling with vast speed, as he saw him alive on one point, only to splatter dead by the other second. Y/N immediately feels relieved as he knows Frank won, and as Y/N almost reached the zombies, he gets lifted up.

After a few seconds, Y/N sees Frank lifting up the crane and once he’s safe, the journalist swiftly gets to him to help him get out. Once he’s freed, the odd reporter is quick to give a thankful hug towards the older man. Frank looks surprised at first, only to hug him back.

“It’s alright. It’s over.”

Y/N continues to hug him tightly. “Thank you, Frank.”

“You’re alright?”

“Besides the new trauma, I’m fine.” Y/N cracks up a forced joke. The two stops hugging to talk further. “I owe you my life.”

“Don’t sweat about it. I’m just glad that bastard didn’t kill you.” If TK did so, then Frank would sure give him a death worse than he got.

Y/N smiles happily. “We’re done here, right?”

“Yes. We got all the evidence we need to put out the truth to the world, again.” Frank answers. “I’m not sure what to do next to be honest. Guess I’m back to life out my crappy celebrity life.” He says with disdain in his voice.

“Wow, it sounds like you got a rough 5 years.”

“Feels like a decade to be honest.” He tiredly says.

“I just know what you need. Get away from the zombie life and do something fun.”

“Such as?”

“Dunno. Getting a date.”

Frank chuckles. “Dunno. I think it’s pass my time to find a genuine relationship.”

“Nonsense.” Y/N disagrees. “You just think that way just because you’re depressed.” Frank can’t help but laugh, though knowing it’s partly true. “You just need to find the right person. Hell, I can be the right person.”

“You think we should date?” Frank questions.

“Yeah, why not? We’re both around the same age. Got the same job. We get along well and whenever you feel down about the past, I will always get you, since I has been there with you.”

Frank thinks about it, only to smirk. “Why the hell not?” He holds his hand out to allow Y/N to grab it. “I know a five-star restaurant we can go to, my pay.”

“Sweet.” Y/N accepts his hand. Both men begin walking towards the exit and their way to escape Fortune City. “We’re going to be a great couple. I know so many things we can do together.”

“Like?”

“I like to gamble without the zombies one time.” “How romantic.” Frank sarcastically responds. “Maybe dating some weirdo like you would do something good to my health.”

[impishtubist]

okay this can go very wrong but jegulus (and i'm throwing in a trope just because) raising harry and #5✨

hoooooooooooooooo boy.

I cannot apologize enough for this.

The fifth song on my Spotify Wrapped playlist is “Teo Torriatte”, and that is no excuse for this, holy shit.

CWs: Illness, terminal illness, imminent death of a parent, imminent death of a spouse, grief, no one actually dies in this but it’s still sad. 

Regulus is already awake when Juliette starts fussing, so he gets out of bed and pads across the hall to Sirius and Remus’s room. Both men are stirring, but Regulus lifts the newborn from her bassinet and whispers, “I’ve got her.” 

Sirius only gives a half-hearted protest, while Remus merely rolls over and goes back to sleep. He’s earned it, Regulus thinks, having brought this baby into the world a week ago with only Regulus and Sirius for help. James had shouted encouragement from across the hall, while Harry Flooed to St. Mungo’s for a Healer who didn’t arrive in time. 

The baby’s hungry, so Regulus heats a bottle in the kitchen downstairs, and then carries her back up to their room. 

James has managed to work himself into a sitting position, and he holds out his arms for the baby. Regulus transfers her to his husband, and then hands him the bottle before settling on the bed. James’s arms are skeletal these days, but right now, they’re strong and steady as he cradles his goddaughter.

“She’s beautiful,” he murmurs, which is what he says every time he holds her. It’s true, though.

“Remus’s genes,” Regulus says, and James laughs. Merlin, Regulus is going to miss that laugh. 

James gazes down at their niece and goddaughter, a bit of color returning to his face as a smile touches his lips, his eyes full of adoration. For a moment, and only for a moment, Regulus can look at him and forget that he’s dying.

The spell damage that killed Lily in a matter of days has taken almost sixteen years for James. Though they’ve always known this is how it would end, his rapid deterioration has taken them all off-guard. James went from relatively healthy to bed-bound in a matter of months. Sirius and Remus moved into Potter Manor when Remus was five months along, unwilling to be very far from James during this final chapter of his life. Harry pulled out of Hogwarts, and they’ve all taken turns tutoring him. Mostly, though, they’re focused on spending time together.

All of them are circling the drain, waiting and waiting and waiting for it to end.

Regulus hates it. 

“You’ll get her her first broomstick,” James murmurs. 

“‘Course I will,” Regulus says, forcing the words past the stone in his chest. 

“And you’ll teach her how to fly, because Merlin knows her dads won’t,” James goes on. Juliette stares up at him with big grey eyes as she suckles at the bottle, eyes she got from Sirius. “And she’ll be the best Chaser on the Gryffindor team, won’t you, darling?”

“She’s obviously going to be a Seeker for Slytherin,” Regulus retorts. 

“You’ll spoil her rotten at every Christmas and Hanukkah and birthday, like Sirius did when Harry was a baby.”

“Yes. Obviously.”

“You’ll tell her about me.” The smile slips from James’s emaciated face. “When I’m gone, you’ll tell her everything about her Uncle James.”

Regulus gives a choked laugh. “I won’t shut up about you.”

“About how much I love her, and how much I wanted to see her grow up.”

“Yes, and about how she was so eager to meet you, she arrived almost a month early.” 

Juliette finishes the bottle, and James doesn’t have the strength to lift her to his shoulder. Regulus takes her and burps her, and then returns her to James’s arms so he can rock her to sleep. Once she’s fully under, Regulus takes her back across the hall and tucks her in, and then resets the baby monitor charms that will go off in both their rooms if she wakes up again. 

James and Regulus are settling back into bed when their door creaks open.

“Dads?” Harry ventures tentatively into the room. 

“Come here, love,” James says, and Harry comes over to the bed, bending to hug him gently. “Join us.” 

Harry crawls into bed and settles between them like he’s six, not sixteen. “Something wrong?”

“No. The baby wanted a bottle, and your uncles are exhausted.” Regulus runs his fingers through Harry’s hair, as unruly as his father’s. “Why don’t you stay with us tonight?”

“Okay,” Harry agrees, burrowing under the blankets. Regulus knows he’s going to wake up with an elbow in his face and a knee in his stomach, also like when Harry was six. Harry’s probably going to steal all the blankets, too. He rolls over and kisses James’s cheek, then rests his head on James’s shoulder. “Love you, Dad.” 

“Love you, too, baby.” James reaches across Harry to clasp Regulus’s hand. “Love you both so much.”

----

[valentijnsstuff]

This has been such a volatile week, this is mostly for myself to recount events but holy shit

Me almost making an attempt last sunday evening and then finding out there actually IS accessible help for my suicide issues after scrambling to find any for weeks

being able to sit and eat pizza on a busy terrace with a friend on monday

starting the tuesday with the most insanely tense session with two therapists where I could barely speak but HAD to tell them that they were just not helping, hanging out at a besties house to calm down, reaching out to my ex out of desperation, going to sleep in the haunted house

waking up wednesday feeling like shit and to a check in from my dad, who doesn't know what to say to my worsening depression, feeling sick and spiraling the rest of the day from medication side effects, to the point of not being able to eat and sleep and having to call a medical professional for a panic attack

Calling the docters office thursday morning because I felt so sick I wasn't sure I could drive myself to the doctors, being completely out and in an intense panic in front of a doctor that I don't quite trust, but miraculously being able to get a prescription for sleep medication, having my mental coach look at me with a very focused concerned face for a whole hour as I try to explain how bad the situation has gotten inbetween sobbing, her being actually helpful in telling me how to carry my pain, having a long conversation with a 113 professional when I come home, crying uncontrolably in a way I thought only children could, meeting up with my ex to ask him for help, having to sit and listen to him boast how good he is doing now he is finally making his own life choices, getting told by him 'count your blessings', having to sleep over at the besties house to calm down again after dragging myself through all that, gathering enough courage to cancel a date that I clearly couldn't go on in this state

Rushing home friday to have my sister come eat brunch, calling my ex to tell him that some of the things he said didn't sit right with me, bring my sister to her therapy meeting, get called by my ex that he wants an apology for hurting him before he considers helping me, being forced to have the conversation in what ways I was actually hurt by him in the middle of a busy street, having my intake for a suicidal prevention counseling right after, having a good time chilling out with my sister and going swimming with her and her bestie, not being able to focus on the swimming because of all the anger and hurt caused by my ex's treatment flooding back, being on the phone with him for an infuriating half hour, being told 'this is the last time we're talking', I could barely start to tell him what he did to make me as broken as I am, crying in the hallway of the swimmingpool, calling my friends to tell them I made the mistake of trying to trust my ex

Being in company of a bestie on saturday all day, driving 5 cities over to keep an eye on the expo there and being exhausted the whole time, slipping away to have a scream crying session in my car because of how much hurt my inner child still feels from the shit my ex pulled on me, finally being able to aknowledge how conditional his love was, having to stop by the haunted house with my bestie on the way back bc I left a roof window open, having to manage the water damage bc of said window, eating kfc in the parking lot absolutely knackered together, panic planning how to convert my car into a mini camper bc of how anxious I felt at going back to my house alone

Being able to go on a shopping tour to big stores with another bestie today, but having a meltdown at the busy restaurant, spiraling about how I will never be able to live in my home by myself because the weird cptsd that is connected to the place, my bestie inviting me over for sleepover to calm me down and help me trough another night

As I'm writing this I'm noticing so many patterns, I constantly need to be affirmed that there will be a way out of being alone, my medication is definitely starting to work and I can finally handle more situations, but the sleeping in my own home by myself is too triggering, I would rather sleep in my car in this point than be home by myself

[clanoffelidae]

sorry if this is invasive, and feel free to ignore this, but I've seen a few of your posts stating you're working on a threegado human au fic? I have no clue how old these posts are, so I just wanted to ask: "Is it finished? Is it still in the WIP phase? Did you abandon it? (No shame in that I've abandoned hundreds of WIPs) It sounds so good the way you describe it in your posts, and I would love to read it. Best of days to you!

i… literally don’t remember seeing this ask??? this says it was sent in on april 30th but holy shit i have absolutely 0 memory of seeing this before now. usually i spot something in my inbox and adhd brain forgets about it only to later go ‘OH SHI-‘ but i genuinely don’t recall ever seeing this, oh my god i am so sorry for not answering this until now, the notification must’ve gotten eaten or something and i rarely get asks so don’t think to check my inbox. i’m so sorry for taking so long man it wasn’t intentional

and to answer your question it is not abandoned at all but it is still in the wip phase right now yes! it wound up slipping my mind when i got sick and then i’ve been focused on some wips for another fandom lately, but it is very much not abandoned! if you want to come off anon i’d be more than happy to share what i’ve got so far if you like :) i actually made a list a few weeks ago of the wips i wanted to focus on right now and it was on the list, so hopefully i’ll get back around to it soon! ❤️

it’s about little baby jo (like. 4.) meeting these two weird homosexuals at the park and roping them into playing princess knights and dragons with her. here’s a little bit of dialogue that will be included (john smith and victor smith nee magister):

baby jo to her mom: this is victor! he’s an evil mastermind 😳

john: he’s a physics professor

victor: no my phd students agree

(since i presume you probably wouldn’t know anon - i came down with severe covid last christmas that i was very slow to recover from and has left me with some long term damage that i’ve been fighting through, so as you can imagine for a while there fanfiction was the LEAST of my priorities lol. but it’s not as bad as it could’ve been and i survived so i’m thankful for the health i have and there’s no need to worry! it just rather knocked any and all fandom content clear out of my head for a good few months lol)

[mbb-project-entity]

Chapter 8

The next day, my wife had already left for work by the time I was up and showChloeg. I chose my clothes out of my dresser, but then remembered the doctor’s orders and walked over to my wife’s dresser and picked out the girliest pair of panties I could find. For a moment, as I held them, I thought how disgusting it was for a grown man to be stealing and wearing his wife’s panties, but again almost immediately it dawned on me that wearing lacy panties like a sissy really turned me on. My cock got hard in my pajamas. I couldn’t wait to slide the sheer silky panties over my hard shaft, with my cock head still sticking out the top all day. I almost put them down to go shower, but then I realized, Dr. Gibson’s dried cum from the day before was still clinging to my face, and my crotch still smelled like my load, and realizing that only a real queer sissy would go to work unshowered with another man’s dried cum on his face, I just slipped into the panties, threw on a suit over it, and got to work.

Midday, I went to use the men’s room, and walked up to the urinals only to see Doug Kempley standing at the one right next to me. Doug and I did not get along. We were peers, and constant rivals, but Doug was a bit of a sleazebag, not at all above doctoring his numbers to look like he was getting more done than he really was. I didn’t have much respect for him at all. But I was so focused on thinking how much I disliked him that I didn’t notice him glance quickly over the urinal divider and give a start when I pulled down my pants to piss in the urinal.

“What the hell? Is that… pink? Are you wearing pink underwear?”

I hurriedly adjusted my pants so he couldn’t see any more, but the damage was done.

“Well? Are they? Is your underwear pink?”

I was beginning to blush pink at this point, but I tried to defend myself. “No, that’s crazy, Doug, they’re not pink.”

“I saw pink. So if you say I’m seeing things, you gotta prove it. Or else everyone’ll hear about your girly pink underwear.”

I blushed an even deeper red but sheepishly bowed my head and slid my suit pants back a bit, revealing my wife’s lacy pink panties, barely able to contain my throbbing hardon.

“What the fuck? Holy shit, Doug, are you a faggot?”

My blushing only got darker. I was pretty sure it was crimson by then.

“Come on, man, are you? Are you a faggot?” Doug stared me in the eyes and asked the question, pointed, aggressive, triumphant.

Even as I opened my lips to speak I knew no good would come of it, but I even startled myself when I blurted out, in the mock voice of a young girl, “I’m a thithy.”

Doug’s eyes went wide and his mouth curled into a wide grin. “Oh my God, I should have known! You, a total fucking perv queer. Well, glad to find out now. Guess my troubles with you are over. From now on you’ll answer to me—if not in the office, then certainly here in the bathroom. Get down on your knees, sissy.”

I was beet red with embarrassment but my cock was throbbing like a drum in time with my heartbeat as Doug ordered me around. I sank to my knees and he turned to face me.

“For starters, you can finish this off,” he said. He drove his soft cock into my mouth and abruptly let loose with a torrent of piss. It filled my mouth and ran out the sides and out of my nose as I sputtered and coughed. “No, no, drink it, you fucking fag! Drink it all, don’t waste any!” I tried to gulp it down but it still spilled a bit. My white dress shirt was stained an obvious yellow where the piss ran onto it.

Then Doug grabbed his drained cock in one fist and started pumping. “Tell me that again,” he said.

I knew what he wanted. I stayed on my knees and continued blushing and said, quietly, “I’m a thithy.”

“Louder!”

“I’m a thithy!”

It didn’t take long for Doug to spurt up a big load of jizz all over my face. I thought about stopping to use his bathroom on the way out to wash the cum off my face and clean it out of my pants as best I could, but suddenly it occurred to me how hot it was to have my face and crotch soaked in cum just like a real sissy. But then He told me not to clean it off, and if anyone asked, to tell them exactly what it was. I was so humiliated. I got hard again as I walked straight to my car and drove home.

I went back to my desk, beet red with shame, and along the way I got some pretty strange looks, but fortunately nobody spoke to me. I wanted to go wash my face but something was wrong, I just hid at my desk for the rest of the day, even though I really needed to piss by the end of the day, I just ran all the way to Paiges home.

My wife was home from work and cooking when I got there. I tried to sneak in and change, but she caught me on the way in and leaned in for a kiss. She spotted the dried jizz on my face, though, and stopped and gave me a strange look.

“Honey, what is that?” she asked.

I didn’t even have time to think before my mouth opened. “It’s Doug’s cum.”

She stopped, stunned. “… What??!”

“It’s Doug’s cum. And mine’s in my pants. And that’s his piss on my shirt collar, what leaked out of my mouth before I could drink it.” I spoke the words calmly but inside I was panicking.

My wife just stood there in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!?”

“I’m a big thithy.”

“Did you just say you’re a sissy? Did you just lisp that you’re a sissy?”

“Mmm-hmm, I’m a thithy queerboy.” Even as I spoke the words aloud I noticed I was rubbing my crotch with one hand, and my cock was getting pretty hard. I was so mortified, but I couldn’t help myself. Fucking Dr. Gibson and his reprogramming. I was a straight man with a wife!

“What?? What is happening? Is this something that therapist put in your head? Why are you doing this?” My wife was shaking and looked on the verge of tears, confused and shocked.

“Yeth. Dr. Gibthon showed me what a thithy faggot I am.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God. What is happening to you? We’re going over there right now.” She grabbed my arm and over my protests dragged me to the car and shoved me in. I told her his office address and she sped over like a madwoman. I was terrified and hoping he wouldn’t be there, not knowing what I was going to do in any case. But when we arrived, his light was on. She yanked me from the car and strode, furiously, to his office door and began pounding on it frantically, in a total rage.

Dr. Gibson opened the door and she just started screaming at him. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE YOU FUCKING PSYCHO TO MY HUSBAND, YOU BETTER FUCKING EXPLAIN YOURSELF TO ME RIGHT—”

And then Dr. Gibson, smiling, quickly gave her a small shot in the neck, and my wife crumpled to the floor.

“I thought you might be here tonight. Come in,” he said, and like a big dumb puppet I obeyed.

“I have a little program for your wife, too,” he said, with a wink, as he dragged her unconscious body through a nearby door. I stood still, immobile, as I heard some thumping, a few thuds, and then a few clicks, and Dr. Gibson reappeared.

“She’ll be alright in no time. Now, while you’re here, let’s go ahead and do a little work. What’s that on your face?”

“It’th Doug’th cum,” I said, now apparently unable to do anything but lisp gaily.

“Oh? And who’s Doug?”

“I work with Doug, and I hate him, but he thaw my pantieth in the bathroom and pithed in my mouth and jerked off on my fathe.”

“Is that his piss on your collar?”

“Yeth.”

“Very good. I see the lisp is really taking. Let’s work on some other mannerisms.”

She began talking in a soothing voice.

“You want to be the best sissy faggot you can, so you’ll do everything you can to seem as faggy as possible. Let your wrists go permanently limp. Swish your hips when you walk. Let your lower back dive inwards so your butt sticks out. Exaggerate it. I want you to be like a comic book character, a caricature, the sissiest little fag anyone’s ever seen.”

I felt that same stretched-open sensation, like he had opened up my skull and was pouring his words right into my brain. I tried to fight them but they were stronger than I was, louder than any other thoughts I could muster. I felt them sink in. I felt my wrists go limp. I felt myself rub my ass against the couch. “A real sissy knows his holes are for real men to stuff full as they see fit,” he said to me, and like melting butter on bread it oozed into my brain, and within seconds it seemed I had always known it to be true. I frantically tried to hold onto my identity, but I couldn’t even remember what that was. Of course I was a sissy, and of course that meant my holes were there to be filled. I began to feel empty.

And just as I did, I felt Dr. Gibson’s finger slip out of my hole and felt the head of his cock pressing against it instead. I gasped as he plunged his cock into me, and I felt his balls slap against my ass as he drove it all the way in. It hurt a lot, but the pain only made me horny. I was a sissy, I heard myself say.

“Oooh,” I cried out, “Yeth, thlip that big man cock into my thithy butt hole!” Dr. Gibson laughed, pulled it out, and slammed it in again.

“That’s right, look what a fucking fairy you are. I knew the moment you stepped in here, this was what you really were. I’m doing you a favor by unlocking it in you. I think you should thank me.”

Deep down something was screaming in me with anger and terror that no, I shouldn’t thank him, something was very wrong, but I couldn’t really remember what. As the doc pounded his big cock into my ass over and over I smiled. “Thank you, doctor, for showing me what a thithy fairy boy I am.”

As I thanked him, he drove himself all the way in and stopped. I assumed he was going to fill my ass with cum, but when I felt the warmth begin inside me and the pressure start to build I realized he wasn’t cumming at all, he was pissing.

“Sissies love being used like the dirty fags they are,” he said, while he inflated my colon with a giant load of piss. “That’s what you want, to be abused and treated like a filthy slut.”

“Yeth, doctor, fill me up, I want my butt so full of your pith I feel it sloshing around when I walk!”

Dr. Gibson laughed, and as he finished pissing, gave me one or two more thrusts, these ones pretty painful as his urine washed away any lubrication, and gave one quick shout as he pumped a big load of cum into the ocean of piss already inside me.

“Hold your hole closed when I pull out, don’t let any drip,” he ordered. I did as he said, and I felt him replace his cock with something much bigger. I screamed in pain as he drove it in, but I felt my butt suck it the rest of the way in once it passed the biggest part, and while I was still stretched wide open, it was lodged in there and not about to fall out.

“A sissy fag like you, a real whore, needs a nice loose snatch. Wear this plug every day to stretch out your pussy hole so real men can fuck it more easily.”

Again, I heard his loathsome and twisted orders and tried to resist them, tried to deny them to myself, but beyond my control I just felt them slip right through my grasp and bury themselves deep inside my mind. I was suddenly ashamed at how tight my asshole was. I suddenly wanted very badly to turn it into a wide-open boy-cunt for real men to fuck.

[pagesfromthevoid]

Hey! How are you, honey? I can think of some scene with Adrian confessing his feelings thinking you are dead/asleep, in case you want to write it <3

Don’t Die | a.c.

Adrian Chase x reader

Warnings: Blood and violence. Language.

Note: I’m really good!! Tired. But I hope you like it <3

Send me your thots!

———

There wasn’t a lot of thought behind his words as they spilled off his tongue. All he could focus on was you —your suit torn at its sides, blood soaking through the parts that remained intact. He had heard the gunshots; taken the fuckers out himself. But the damage was done; you were struck several times, dropping without so much as a scream as blood pooled in your mouth.

Feelings were hard for the crime fighter. He didn’t know how or when to express them. And when he did, they came off wrong or uncomfortable. But seeing you, bleeding out and barely breathing, made something inside him break. And not in the “I’m going to kill everyone and anyone around me” kind of break. But the…“I think I’m about to cry for the next five hours” break.

“Please don’t die,” he begged, dropping to his knees beside you. His sword fell in the grass at his side. “You’re the only person who laughs at my jokes and means it.”

The others were running towards the two of you but he couldn’t hear anything they said. He was too focused on pressing his hands into your wounds, trying to stop the blood. But there was so much of it, and for the first in his life, the sight of it didn’t excite him. He felt sick; bile rising in his throat as he felt himself start to cry.

Adrian Chase didn’t really…cry. Not often. Not that he could remember, either. But there he sat, holding you in his arms as he tried to stop the blood. Tears spilling just as fast as his words.

“You can’t die on me,” he begged again, wiping his eyes. Though that smeared your blood across his cheeks. “I-I can’t live without you.” His hand found your cheek, trying to tap you awake. But your breathing was labored, barely even there. “I don’t know what you did to make me like this; all fucking mushy and in love and shit but god. Please wake up and show me what you did because I don’t want to lose it. I just got you.”

As the group finally stopped a few feet away, each realized what was happening. Adrian couldn’t even look at them, closing his eyes as he pulled you into his chest and hugged you as hard as he could. If Chris could pray that Eagly lived, maybe he could do the same. Maybe he could pray and you’d wake up and everything would be okay.

“Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll even stop killing people.” There was a pause then he had to really amend that promise. “I’ll stop killing lesser criminals. I have to kill the bad guys but I-I’ll stop killing people who do graffiti and shit.”

There was a soft, very weak laugh. “N-no you won’t.”

Suddenly it was like the world stopped as Adrian clung to you. His heart felt like it was going to explode.

“You’re…you’re alive,” he whispered as he pulled back, looking down at you with tear stained cheeks. “It worked. Oh my fucking god it worked —Holy fuck —“

“Adi,” you managed to whisper. “I love you too, okay? But I need a doctor —“

“Shit, fuck, yeah you do,” he took a breath then hoisted you up into his arms. You hissed from the pain but relaxed into his arms. “You really love me?”

“‘Course I do. Why else would I laugh at your shitty jokes?”

[mikelogan]

JDox Reclist (2022)

Previous JDox reclists can be found here

Up In Our Bedroom (After The War) by darknessandrageandkittens

Summary:  How DID Perry get his name, anyway?  JD’s curious, and for once, his lover opens up Rating: M Word Count: 909 My Thoughts: Everybody’s trans, we love to see it

A Study in Unconventionality by dashwood

Summary: “Well, you see…” JD trailed off, suddenly unsure of himself.  Just an hour ago, it had seemed like a brilliant idea.  He had even forfeited a round of ‘Find the Saltine’ to rush to the newspaper stand next door, proudly declaring, “Where’s the porn? It’s a matter of life and death. Trust me, I’m a doctor.” Rating: E Word Count: 7491 My Thoughts: This 3-part smut series is so good. Basically, Perry is a patient and JD needs to rule out conditions by testing whether or not Perry can… you know…

Pink in the Night by orphan_account

Summary: The music and din of the rag tag team was very pleasant if JD lingered on it. Which he was, by the way, lingering, in the kitchen and watching Elliot make that are-you-actually-this-sexist face as Kelso regales her with some ER story while the chief of medicine steadfastly gulps the spiked eggnog. Rating: M Word Count: 3601 My Thoughts: Christmas JDox? Yes please.

My New Schedule by backroombull (chinashopbull)

Summary:  The one where Dr. Cox sort-of-accidentally makes JD piss his scrubs, and of all the things, this is what leads to them boning for the first time. Rating: E Word Count: 24,942 My Thoughts: While this fic probably isn’t for everyone, the second chapter really Does It for me. Also brilliantly written. Daddy kink!

My Captive Audience by RumCove

Summary: JD has been told that he gets too involved.  He didn’t listen. He’s regretting it. Rating: M/E Word Count: 219,120 My Thoughts: Holy shit. Just. Holy. Shit. Absolutely heed the tags going into this series, but if you’ve followed me for more than like, a second, you’ll know how highly I recommend this author.  I will admit that I put reading MCA off for quite a while because the noncon part of it put me off, and while those parts are very difficult to get through, I cannot think of anyone better suited for navigating the trauma JD goes through than Rum. The second work, My Caged Performer, is even better than the first, in my opinion. Probably because it’s much more focused on JD and Perry together, but you really can’t read it without reading MCA first. The final installment made me cry so hard (in a good way) – like almost Cancer levels of crying, just without all the pain and long-term emotional damage.

Relativity by nikogio

Summary: A rewrite/post-episode fic for 3x14 My Screwup. Rating: E Word Count: 24,747 My Thoughts: NEWBIE, IT’S THE SPRINKLES! Okay, for real though, amazing series by this author. It’s so well-written and has the perfect amount of angst, fluff, and smut!

My Unorthodox Treatment by RumCove

Summary: Perry Cox finds being an alpha doctor working in the hellhole that is Sacred Heart something of a headache. Not as much of a headache as he finds his self-appointed beta “protégé” constantly trying to get his attention and some sort of goddamn hug all the time, of course, but neither are great.  Particularly not when deep down he really doesn’t find Newbie that bad.  At all.  And it just gets even more of a crazy, annoying headache when he finds out something that he really didn’t want to find out and can never not know again after a bad day in the ER. JD finds his entire existence something of a headache, when it all boils down to it.  And now his crazy, terrifying boss knows the one thing that he’s kept from everyone since he went to college.  This can only end badly, right? An alpha/beta/omega fic set in the Scrubs universe. Rating: E Word Count: 539,003 My Thoughts: This was my first foray into the world of A/B/O (I know, sweet summer child) and boy, do I love it. As stated above, I adore RumCove’s works, and obviously this is no different, but I also love her OCs and how they often make appearances in other works.  I’d die for Io, no questions asked. But anyway, if you already like A/B/O or you’re curious about it, this is the (and probably only) Scrubs series for you! 

My Thin Ice by RumCove

Summary: To Dr. Cox’s horror, the staff of internal medicine are being sent on a staff team building event.  In Alaska.  In goddamn Alaska. JD’s going through a personal crisis and maybe some time away will get his mind off it.  Or maybe not. Then when things take a more serious turn it’s suddenly a case of life or death. Snow! Ice! Cold! A rec room! It’s sort of Christmassy… Rating: E Word Count: 26,529 My Thoughts: I knew it was gonna happen, but damn it all if this reclist isn’t just turning into one big ad for Rum’s fics. But there’s a reason! They’re all so good, and well, she’s certainly prolific!

His Secret Santa by This_Desk_Set_Wants_To_Fly

Summary: For Christmas, Carla holds Sacred Heart’s annual Secret Santa, and, after drawing a name, Perry struggles to find the right gift for his recipient. Rating: M Word Count: 2884 My Thoughts: Sweet, fluffy Christmas oneshot? I don’t care if it is July, go read it!

Run Right into You by nikogio

Summary: “You know, Newbie, the harder you fight against quicksand, the faster you sink.” “I know,” I nod, aware of the fact, though not quite sure of the point. “I suppose that’s why I keep letting you in.” Rating: E Word Count: 2319 My Thoughts:  “He knows that he is home with me, and I know that I am sheltered wherever he is.”  BRB, screaming crying throwing up

Turning Points by tyrionsoftywin

Summary: We’re strangers, the thought hits me as he turns slowly to look at me, a small, sad smile on his face and I know he’s going to read in my face all the questions I’m not daring to ask him. Rating: G/T Word Count: 5167 My Thoughts: A series of four, kind of bittersweet oneshots. I really love the idea of exploring them at this later point in their lives, after the show.

Meant To Be (Hand In Hand) by DobbyRocksSocks

Summary: Post EP 05x21 My Fallen Idol: Perry really only needed to hear from one person. They got there in the end. Rating: T Word Count: 2943 My Thoughts: The noise I made while rereading this and then literally went, out loud, to myself and my cats, “Boys!”

My Puzzling Jewelry by RumCove

Summary: When JD discovers something unexpected about Dr. Cox he gets curious. Curiosity killed the Newbie. Or is in danger of killing him anyway. Rating: E Word Count: 8350 My Thoughts: Besties, I love this fic so much. We all need some PWP every once in a while, am I right?

Canoodle With Me by DobbyRocksSocks

Summary:  JD is exhausted.  Perry wants to know why. Rating: T Word Count: 2337 My Thoughts: I’ll take “Perry taking care of JD” for 1000, Alex.

Hospital Nonsense by Chaoskitten

Summary: A place for my various JDox oneshots and anything else in the Scrubs fandom Rating: G/T Word Count: 11,341 My Thoughts: I love these two idiots so much and these oneshots are so great!

you look like mine when you wear my clothes by DobbyRocksSocks

Summary: Perry has a rather… primal reaction to JD wearing his clothes. Rating: T Word Count: 1106 My Thoughts: That sound you’re hearing? It’s me REEEEEEEing into oblivion.

Lay A Claim by DobbyRocksSocks

Summary: They’re away at a conference, and there’s only one bed.  But… it was only three nights.  Nothing would change between them, right? Rating: Not Rated Word Count: 3250 My Thoughts: Hi, welcome to the DobbyRocksSocks appreciation hour.  Please take a seat and screech with me. Okay seriously though, this might be my favorite fic from them, and while I would put every single one of their JDox works on here, I’ll save you the scrolling and just tell you to check out their AO3 page.

My Mentor’s Fugue by suedepony

Summary: A canon rewrite of JD and Dr. Cox’s interactions during S03E14, “My Screw Up,” from JD’s point of view. Rating: E Word Count: 3958 My Thoughts: Angsty smut? Hi yes hello, table for me and the 3 other living members of the Scrubs fandom

See Through My Beautiful by JusteAmusant

Summary: My little newbie is either hella scared of the consequences of his being late, or he’s off in a daydream that not even he can find.  He has yet to look me in the eyes, he looks like he hasn’t slept since I last saw him, and one of his shoes is untied.  “Hey.”  I give a sharp double whistle.  My chest tightens at how long it takes JD to look up at me.  “Anything you wanna tell me, Newbie?” JD shakes his head.  “No, sir.” Rating: M Word Count: 9590 My Thoughts: Another one that you’ll want to heed the tags on before reading, but protective Perry is one of my favorite Perrys.

(But I Want) To Go Home by JusteAmusant

Summary: “Newbie, finish that sentence and I swear to all the types of gods I’ll have you flat on your ass before you can say ‘Carla please come save me,’ capice?” “Flat on my ass that you want to spank,” I snicker. Dead silence next to me has me turning to face him, eyes wide.  “I… I mean um–” Dr. Cox’s face splits into a grin that has me unsure whether to laugh or run.  “See, Newbie?  Now you’re getting it.” That’s the scariest thing about Dr. Cox.  You never know when he’s messing with you, and when he’s dead serious on following through… Rating: M Word Count: 5986 My Thoughts: In the wise words of those kids in that one AT&T commercial: “WE WANT MORE, WE WANT MORE.” DADDY KINK Y’ALL

My talent, her bet, his awakened interest by BeyondMadness

Summary: Being a fourth year resident about to become a fully fledged doctor brings about a certain cockiness in JD that’s beginning to really irk those he works closely with.  Unfortunately for him the tables get tipped out of his favor which results in what is likely to be one of the most humiliating experiences of his life.  Or perhaps he should have done this years ago. Rating: E Word Count: 17,282 My Thoughts: Yeah, hi, so when I saw this get posted earlier this year I was a little skeptical because burlesque? Crossdressing? Perhaps not my typical cup of tea, but it ended up being so good and I feel bad that I was so doubtful at first!

My Ill-Advised Road Trip by lunarqueens

Summary: Perry Cox finds himself, yet again, reluctantly roped into what some might call a situation.  Except this time he’s on the road, in an RV, stuck in close confines with the world’s most annoying doctors.  One of whom he might, possibly, unfortunately be a little bit in love with. What could possibly go wrong, right? Rating: T Word Count: 11,397 My Thoughts: Still holding out hope that this one eventually gets completed some day!  I love this author and you’ll find a few works from them on my previous reclist from 2018.  So yeah, if you didn’t gather already, this one is unfinished at 2 out of 3 chapters posted, but it’s honestly still worth the read for the road trip shenanigans.

My Hypocritical Hippocrates by RumCove

Summary: JD makes a mistake.  A really big mistake.  A really dumb one that he should have absolutely avoided. Dr. Cox is, as usual, livid.  But for different reasons than usual and this one might just push him over the edge. Rating: E Word Count: 54,845 My Thoughts: A series of 4 works that are legit so good, I’ve literally lost track of how many times I’ve reread them.  The smut is also chef’s kiss along with everything else.

My Empty Rulebook (Working Title) by nikogio

Summary: I’m not really someone who lives by any particular rules.  In fact, I seem to have a basic aversion to most of them.  But there’s one rule I’ve long upheld, which, as long as I’ve had it, has been one hundred percent ironclad: No sex in the Porsche. Rating: M Word Count: 4311 My Thoughts: PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NIKOGIO, IF YOU SEE THIS, PLEASE FINISH THIS FIC, I’M BEGGING

My Dirty Imbecile by theOther_Will_Grayson

Summary: “Top surgery?” “You know, the titty chop.”  John does an exaggerated karate chop, paired with an uncoordinated kick.  “Whacha!” Turk doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry.  “Dude,” he says, more dead serious than he’s ever been in his life.  “I think we might be soulmates.” Rating: Not Rated Word Count: 7963 My Thoughts: It’s me, ya girl, back at it again with yet ANOTHER unfinished fic rec!! But trans JD is life and I’ll take anything I can get. Love that boy so much it’s stupid. This fic has actually been recently updated so there’s hope for us yet!

My New Perspective by RumCove

Summary: After a terrible accident, a doctor wakes up in Sacred Heart with no memory of who he is, who anyone else is or even why he’s the way he is.  Which is – basically – an asshole. And, since he doesn’t remember who anyone else is, why the hell is he so fixated on his annoying, whiny, girly doctor? Rating: E Word Count: 51,423 My Thoughts: Hello, I’d like to talk to you today about our lord and savior, RumCove.  Oh, you’ve heard of her?  What’s that?  I’ve recced literally all her other fics in this reclist?  Well, this time it’s an amnesia fic that hurts so good, so go read it right now immediately.

And now we’ve arrived at my favorite part of the reclist: shameless self-promotion!

My Leap of Faith by pcrrycox

Summary: JD, in his final semester of med school and preparing for his internship, signs up for an online dating site with the goal of finding friendship – or something more. Perry, recently divorced and being incessantly bullied by one of his best friends, also signs up for an online dating site with the goal of appeasing his aforementioned annoying best friend.  If anything else happens along the way, so be it. OR Two idiots fall for each other, all without ever having met in person. Rating: E Word Count: 42,659+ My Thoughts: This is my most current fic that I’m working on. Online dating AU, trans JD, smut, fluff, and angst?  What more could you want?  JK, but I do really love this one and the last chapter is going up on Sunday!

My Heavy Meddle by pcrrycox

Summary: In the midst of a breakdown, Perry goes to the only person who will listen.  It turns out to be the best decision he ever made. AKA: The boys get together and are blissfully happy until someone has to open their big mouth and ruin it. Rating: E Word Count: 23,475 My Thoughts: This puppy had been sitting on my old laptop since 2017, and I recently resurrected it, changed it way up, and made it into an actual story instead of just a oneshot.  It’s very different from what normally happens in a JDox getting-together fic, at least in terms of who presents a roadblock.

I’d Rather Be With You by pcrrycox

Summary: JD receives shocking news and the least likely person he expects to help him get through it turns out to be the perfect man for the job: Dr. Cox.  But between navigating missed signals, inopportune timing, and other very annoying complications, things don’t exactly go as planned for the two of them. Rating: T Word Count: 21,162 My Thoughts: Heed the tags, but also I immensely enjoyed writing this one.

What A Feeling by pcrrycox

Summary: Perry doesn’t do weddings and he definitely doesn’t do receptions.  Unless, of course, they involve an open bar and one slightly lost-looking Newbie. Rating: G Word Count: 2781 My Thoughts: I know I’m biased, but I feel like this is one of the cutest/sweetest lil fics I’ve ever written for these dumbasses.  I love them so much!

Matters of the Heart by pcrrycox

Summary: When JD suddenly suffers a cardiac arrest, it changes his and Perry’s lives forever. Rating: M Word Count: 17,200 My Thoughts: Okay, I realize I keep saying how much I enjoyed writing these fics, but this is one that I routinely go back to and can say, wow, I’m really proud of this.

Warm Blood by pcrrycox

Summary: Revenge is a powerful thing and exacting it can have grave consequences.  The supernatural was something JD never even thought to believe in – until it was too late not to believe. Rating: M Word Count: 20,934 My Thoughts: VAMPIRE AU VAMPIRE AU VAMPIRE AU

Everybody Wants Something From Me, You Just Want Me by pcrrycox

Summary: When Perry is getting pulled in every direction, he realizes that the only person who doesn’t want something from him has been right in front the whole time. Rating: G Word Count: 2783 My Thoughts: The things this Adele song did to me when I first heard it! I went back and reread this the other day and like. I’m really really happy with my characterization of Perry and his thoughts.

And before I go, here are some fics I have in the works! Let me know which one you’re most excited about!

An absolutely massive Ben x Perry fic that I’ve been slowly working on since December 2020

An established!JDox fic in which they’ve been having problems, but Perry finds JD in a horrible situation

Another established!JDox fic where JD gets in a car accident just days before their wedding

A Ben x JD x Perry angst!fic

A very basic idea for a sequel to my vampire!AU

A Neighbors!AU

A getting-together fic in which Perry has a heart attack

A fake relationship Ben x Perry fic

And an absolutely massive doc with even more fic/oneshot ideas (lots of smut lmao)

All of these are in various states of WIP-ness, from literally just a couple sentences of an idea to multiple written chapters.  Anyway, I just want to say a huge thank you to everyone who’s still helping to keep this tiny little fandom alive, whether that’s by writing fic, reading/commenting/leaving kudos, yelling at me on anon, or putting up with my various manic reblog-sessions!

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

psa: trent ikithon is not as competent and powerful as he makes himself seem.

(cw: discussion of abuse)

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i'm not sure how to get into this in a way that's natural, so i hope you don't mind if i go for the straightforward route.

trent ikithon is an abuser. that means his tactics all center around—and rely upon—making vulnerable people believe that he has far more power than he actually does. and when it comes to our pov, the m9's pov, ikithon is trying his damnedest to accomplish the same.

now, i don't know everything that's in matt mercer's head when he has played or characterized trent ikithon. i'm sure there's some depth to his motivations and intelligence, and i don't doubt that ikithon ideologically believes in strengthening the empire. but this is not relevant to the abuse tactics i want to discuss.

because the reality is this: abusers do what they do because they enjoy victimizing and controlling the vulnerable.

that's why you get abusers like archivist zeenoth who are attracted to positions of authority. those positions facilitate structural imbalances of power between them and their potential victims. trent ikithon, too, is doing the same thing—as an archmage of the cerberus assembly, he is exploiting the authority of his position to gain victims for abusing. he is not doing what he does because he's a brilliant mastermind focused on a goal. if he was, he wouldn't abuse his students.

think about it in terms of effectiveness. no matter what people like ikithon try to assert, his volstrucker are not in any way stronger or more capable from his 'tutelage'. caduceus clay roasted the man in his own dining room for this lie. what the volstrucker are are an organization of ruthless, skilled spies built from deeply abused and damaged people. they aren't healthy; they aren't stable. caleb widogast spent eleven years in a sanatorium because he was one of many recruits who broke under the abuse (see EGtW), and then five years as a solitary, paranoia-ridden mess in a filthy coat. he spent months trying not to self-sabotage his growing friendships and had a panic attack as soon as he left ophelia mardun's mansion in shadycreek (e27, 2:55:21). he has ptsd from using fire magic to burn people to death—considering his statement on executing traitors to the empire as a trainee (e18, 2:48:12), it was probably an everyday part of the job.

even the minority of volstrucker that do get through the training stage aren’t functioning well. only a few episodes ago, we watched astrid finish a conversation with caleb and then duck into an alleyway so she could curl up and have a five-minute breakdown before putting the composed mask back on (e126, 1:50:47). abuse makes being alive harder; good luck being a sustainable espionage program at that point.

so that's one lie. how about another?

at the dinner in ikithon's tower, ikithon implied that he has guided every step of caleb's path to recovery and ever-growing power. that caleb's plans to murder ikithon are exactly what he wants; that he even arranged his escape from the vergessen sanatorium (e110, 2:52:58).

i think enough people have recognized that ikithon's first claim is utter bullshit, considering that caleb and the m9 had just arrived from a random island on which they hosted a cult gathering festooned with phalluses. but the implication that he arranged for caleb's escape from the sanatorium was just that: an implication. he never says outright that he did so. he only couched what he knew in gaslighting platitudes and handed over the holy symbol of the cleric that healed him. you won't sense a lie that hasn't been spoken. he let caleb and the m9 make their assumptions, and the assumption worked in his favor.

let's consider the actual circumstances of caleb's escape (e18, beginning 2:51:54). a fellow inmate of the sanatorium who was a cleric suddenly grabbed him and healed him of his madness before returning to her own ravings. caleb then pretended he was still insane for two weeks before killing a guard, stealing the amulet that kept him hidden, and fleeing. how would any of these events work in trent ikithon's favor? the number of absurd assumptions here are off the charts.

first, you would have to believe that a cleric could permanently heal a man who'd been insane and probably experimented on for eleven years.

second, you would have to assume that this man would still be competent enough to pass general scrutiny and break out.

third, you would have to believe that he'd totally survive on his own without any resources whatsoever,

after eleven years of being institutionalized,

while first beginning deep in the pearlbow wilderness—

all without raising the suspicion of this apparently still hypercompetent ex-patient that his escape was too easy.

and fourth, you would have to believe that this man would actually accomplish something in your interests instead of, say, dying or remaining a vagrant beggar forever.

if this was all on purpose, then trent ikithon is really an idiot.

another truth: caleb was not special. both liam and caleb have said so (talks for e88, beginning 28:00; & e110, 29:06), with the examples of other volstrucker supporting this. all of them are talented mages and good at spycraft! they have to be to graduate in the first place! ikithon's assertions that caleb was extra special (e110, 2:52:11)? also a lie—specifically, a great tactic for convincing a victim of abuse not to think about it further. of course they're being hurt again. of course they're being targeted again. not to mention how abusers selectively compliment in order to confuse the people they’re hurting (relevant here: e88, 3:28:25). caleb having an unhealthy amount of hubris and thus open to being diagnosed with protagonist disease doesn’t help.

ikithon would have easily deduced the details of what happened and obtained the holy symbol after an investigation of the break-out. not too hard to piece things together if you simply ask about unusual events prior to the escape and learn that he'd had an altercation with another patient two weeks ago—and oh yes, that patient used to be a blasphemous cleric.

caleb widogast basically reappeared next door healthier, much more powerful, and more capable than ever. ikithon doesn’t have control over caleb’s entire past and future—but he wants him to believe he does. it’s a gaslighting attempt to make caleb question his own accomplishments and attribute them to ikithon so that ikithon can regain some control over his ex-student.

another truth: trent ikithon is already on thin fucking ice. no one in the cerberus assembly likes each other, of course, but a consistent point was made again and again that everyone deeply dislikes ikithon. he's stayed because he made himself useful, but he could and would get taken care of should he be a detriment instead (see e88, 3:19:27; & e97, 3:19:32).

any sort of thorough investigation into the volstrucker and the vergessen sanatorium would reveal exactly how fragile all of his agents are and how frequently he fails in conditioning his recruits. ikithon gets the pick of the crop when it comes to nationalistic, talented students that enter the soltryce academy. to find out that he drives a significant number of them insane? well, that's a pure waste of unrealized potential. and for what—a program of spies who are paranoid enough and opportunistic enough to turn on each other if prodded the right way?

and now... trent ikithon, as part of the traitorous beacon research, has been under heavy investigation from two fronts: the augen trust and the cobalt soul (e125, 2:31:10). and he has been getting very nervous recently (e125, 2:41:42).

the final truth i want to point out: trent ikithon is just as control-obsessed as any other abuser. we got the most obvious example of this yet from e128—his pursuit of the m9 to nicodranas and tidepeak tower. think about the circumstances again.

he was apparently so curious and so annoyed by caleb rebuffing all of his attempts at ‘conversation’ that he made his excuses before teleporting directly to nicodranas,

through a circle implied to be arranged diplomatically between the empire and the clovis concord,

with a plan to break into the lavish chateau, one of the most high-profile locations of the city, to potentially kidnap or kill everyone,

including the famous and beloved ruby of the sea.

he then chased the m9 and their families to the equally high-profile tidepeak tower on the open quay, all of which is owned by yussa errenis, an archmage himself who’s learned far more about local politics than he ever wanted to know,

intimidated his “man”servant,

and broke in.

and they did all of this possibly with some very confused members of the zhelezo following right behind them.

other people have gone through the potential political consequences of this more thoroughly than me, so suffice to say that trent ikithon has gotten himself into some deep shit. you can’t negotiate or magic yourself out of being witnessed by hundreds of people breaking into the tower of an archmage who is infamous among the locals for being a bitchy recluse.

if he was smart, and clever, and a brilliant mastermind, he wouldn’t have done any of that. what he could have done: continue to handle caleb from an ominous distance through spells like sending. allege to the cerberus assembly and king dwendal that the break-in was an underhanded cobalt soul mission because of beauregard’s association with the m9. or just straight-up say that the m9 broke into his facilities because they have a vendetta against him and have them at least investigated the next time the empire can hold onto them for a second.

but he didn’t do any of those much more clever possibilities. he acted impulsively and rashly and may well be on the way to a lot of trouble now. all because ikithon just could not handle caleb being saucy.

with all this in mind, i want to go back to one last detail: astrid and eadwulf. because these two would suffer terrible consequences if they ran away—allegedly.

because i want to ask... what exactly could ikithon do to them?

they’ve already killed their own parents. so far, we’ve had no sign either that they have anyone else important to them in his reach besides each other. they have nothing tying themselves to him besides years of abuse and the crimes they’ve committed as volstrucker. they might want some power of their own, sure, perhaps they want to kill him while they’re still close. but we certainly know that eadwulf and astrid are not invested in the volstruckers as it stands. they doubt ikithon. and they already have their own amulets.

so what else could make them so terrified by the idea of leaving with the m9 except the way that trent ikithon has abused them and convinced them that he’s powerful enough and capable enough to catch up to them?

don’t be fooled. he hosted the most embarrassing excuse for a dining-with-the-enemy scene (seriously, i hope someone reading this cringed the entire time as well from all the long pauses and terrible topic transitions) and then teleported away to flee caduceus clay’s scalding tea. no retort, no blackmail. he acted recklessly in nicodranas and appropriately pushed two of his own volstrucker to betray him, losing his one opportunity to capture the m9′s family there. and now ikithon is between a rock and a hard place in terms of political standing, with a spy network he has openly encouraged to turn against him.

there is no terror waiting in the wings anymore, no more strings he can pull. just an abuser playing up his own grandeur. at this point, the only thing he hasn’t reached his limit in yet is his high-level spell slots.

[shitty17]

Rating every Gordon Freeman

Half life 1 gordon

Beloved and classic. Cannot beat the original! You gotta respect your roots. The man who started it all. He’s a tough quiet little redhead with a fun little pony tail. Fascinating design choices lead him to be a regular blank slate character who you can still pick out of the mass of similar ones by his iconic goatee and glasses. The early 90s art did a good job of showing you “this isn’t a giant beast of a killer man, this is your 40 something geometry teacher in a microwave with a gun” and that set the WHOLE precedent for Gordon’s character for me. The glasses, goatee, and defined cheek lines that seemed to be in every half life model at the time age him a touch more than 27, but if you stare at him long enough you can believe it. Plus, not a lot of detail to glean from a low poly model anyhow. His expression shows him as cool, level headed, and focused. He’s so fucking ORANGE holy shit. This is our very first Gordon! The fucking sexy SNATCHED little waist and chicken neck give him extra points for being a shitty little skinny legend. The metal diaper and looking like he’s about to give me detention because I spoke too loud in class docks tho.

9/10 Beloved classic Gordon who’s flaws can easily be waved away with “it was our first try”, and yet also make him a fun original stand out character.

Half life 2 Gordon

He is no longer my pain in the ass highschool teacher, he is now my bitchy gay college TA who rolls his eyes when the professor says some dumb shit and looks WAY too much like House MD if you get too close. Props for consistencey, this really is just a dolled up version of low poly Gordon. Still got his heavy brow and aged face creases so he looks more like a 30 something dad than a 27 y/o scientist, but that can be blamed on all the stress. Hes got bigger prettier eyes now. He’s still remaining cool and focused, but he’s getting upset. He’s getting distracted. He’s had enough already. And yet, he still finds it in himself to keep going. The new HEV is a VERY sexy little upgrade, maintaining core features such as keeping that waist cinched, and supporting his skinny chicken neck. Finally got RID of that diaper and replaced it with a stylish yet flirty dragon underbelly scale set. It do kinda give the vibe that his dick out tho, which is both hilarious and also pretty ballsy, pun not intended. The colors are not so orange now, which is good! Balanced it out with a lot of grey. Makes him easier to look at, but a little easier to glaze over. Everyone from my generation will know Gordon Freeman by these images, they’re iconic. A good medium between “a regular guy” and “rough tough white mchandsome fps protagonist”. Hairs a lil more of a pretty chestnut brown and still got that nice warm red tone to it. I can’t tell if these images are so iconic that it’s seen as the norm, or if I’ve seen this guys face so much that I’m used to it by now, but he does give off “just kinda of a mediocre guy design wise”. I like that about him. Gordon Freeman just being a regular dude is huge and important to his character. He’s been upgraded to be sleeker and cooler and that’s got him serious traction amongst fans but he falls a bit more to the “generic badass” bin with this. Still, a lot to love.

8/10: Brilliant, iconic, handsome, sleek, and cool to look at, but making him easy to sell action figures of detracts from his character. An upgrade visually but has yet to convince me that he really is as cool as he looks.

Half-life: Alyx

Sweet holy mother of Jesus Christ our lord.

Like. Where do I start. Okay I’ll start with the obvious. He’s cute now. He’s super fucking cute now. He no longer looks like Walter white. He looks like a young man. He looks like a barista you would get at Starbucks who’s voice has deepened from 5 years of T and he tells you to “have a nice day :)” in the sweetest of tones and you really do have a nice day because of it. He’s got big ole peepers now. His old man wrinkles have smoothed out. He’s got noticable birthmarks and freckles. His cranium is regular sized now instead of cartoonishly massive, making his hairline look less like it’s receding.

But also? The most important part? Even when he looks angry, even when he puts back on the cool focused serious look? Even when he tries to put on his classic badass look? It’s not convincing anyone any more. We know now. We know this is just a young man in a HEV suit. He’s not indestructible, he’s scared. Look at him. He clings to these weapons because they’re the only thing stopping everything else in the world from killing him. His brows are furrowed not because he’s pissed with blind rage, but because he has to focus and think and be careful or else he will get dropped. He’s hurt. He has taken damage to his suit. He is not indestructible unstoppable badass or the idol of freedom he’s been made out to be, he’s been sold as. This is a man. This is your friend. He needs your help as much as you need his. This in particular reflects the plight of society nowadays. In 2020, we have less and less faith in our governments and ruling classes, and the only faith we have left is feeling vulnerable and asking for help. This Gordon is relatable. This Gordon shows pain. This Gordon needs his family as much as they need him. This Gordon is being pushed too far, but he still says he can take it. This Gordon is way more badass.

They fucking nailed it. They made a perfect Gordon Freeman. I straight up could look at this dude for hours. He’s so cute I need to give him a bowl of soup and a kiss.

10/10. Unreal.

Bonus!

10000/10 if you squint Lamarrs eyes can look like Gordon’s eyebrows.

[anruraiocht]

marigold & willow (psychic damage)

botanical headcanons

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  & willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ? ha ha funny that you, nanna mun, would send this :)

The short answer is yes, Miranda is extremely prone to jealousy. In particular, she’s jealous of Nanna, because Nanna stands for everything she wishes she had.

MARIGOLD POINT 1: KINDNESS

When Miranda talks about her father, her focus is entirely on how kind her father was, not his competency as a ruler.

“It all started when you fled from Leonster. My father was a kind man who loved peace. He had no reason to go against the Empire… But…but…!” (Thracia 776 Chapter 16B) 

“Father abhorred fighting and was unfailingly kind... And he paid a terrible price for his kindness!” (Fire Emblem Heroes, castle quote)

We find out through Dryas reprimanding Miranda that her father was a weak ruler that refused to involve himself in conflicts and even further, the light novel implies that it was Ethnia, not the king, who decided to take in Leif and co. By all means, someone as single-mindedly focused on restoring Ulster as Miranda should be mad at her father for being a poor ruler. But Miranda instead clings to the memory of her father as a kind man. 

Kindness is a trait that Miranda values, because she feels like she can’t let herself be kind. Compare Nanna’s ending, where her “sweetness and generosity” is stressed, to Miranda’s ending, where her “short temper and (proclivity) to misunderstandings” is what’s stressed. Even from a gameplay perspective, Nanna uses swords and staves and her personal skill boosts hit/avoid for allies. It’s a support based kit. Miranda uses magic (and swords upon promotion) and her personal skill guarantees a crit if the enemy attacks her first. It’s a purely offensive, selfish kit.

MARIGOLD POINT 2: LEIF (DEROGATORY)

Much like most things in Miranda’s life, it all comes back to Leif. Whereas Leif will always goes after Nanna, Leif will always leave Miranda behind. The most poignant example of the difference between the way Leif treats Nanna and Miranda is the scene after the final chapter of Thracia 776.

Miranda: “Well, yes, but… The people want more than that. My advisors are urging me to marry you so that we can unite with Leonster. They think they can just tell me what to do because I’m a girl…”

Leif: “Well, you and I are the only heirs that survived this turmoil. What your advisors are saying only makes sense. But I’m not sure…”

Miranda: “Do you not like me? That’s okay, but…”

Leif: “No, that’s not it. I still have things to do. We still have the Granvalle Empire and other divisions of the Loptr Church to deal with, and we also have to defend Northern Thracia from invaders. There’s just too much on my mind to be thinking about whether I love someone or not…”

... Leif: “Yes, you did. We grew up like brother and sister, but you were always the one helping me. I was able to come this far because you were always there for me, to support me and cheer me up. Nanna, once this war ends, I’ll go look for Lachesis as well. And when I find her, I’m going to ask her directly…for your hand, Nanna…”

These aren’t different scenes, by the way. The background doesn’t change. These interactions are only minutes between each other. Holy shit, Leif. To make matters worse, Miranda’s ending implies that if she hadn’t fallen in love with someone else, she would have waited forever for an answer that Nanna got immediately.

WILLOW

Miranda handles sadness through anger; I find it extremely apt that her personal skill is Wrath lol. She’s prideful and bares her teeth at the slightest provocation, because her anger is the only thing keeping her from falling into despair. She watched despair steal away her parents from her, she vows to avenge them, even if it means trying to kill Leif herself (in the LN). She uses anger as a shield, because it’s the only thing keeping her going.