#honestly writing the tags in that post helped me sort out my thoughts on why that specific comment bothered me so much

[chaoticrystal]

I’m so sorry to bother you, but you left some tags about someone telling you to go run without knowing you and your health problems. 1. Totally understand as a wheelchair user myself but 2. I feel like maybe reframing this for yourself would be more helpful, like if the person does not know you have invisible disabilities, they could just be offering advice that has helped them non-maliciously. You can just chose to note that it probably wouldn’t be good for you bc of XYZ reason they don’t know and move on. Sometimes people aren’t trying to be ableist and malicious, especially since you say you hike.

I think noting how much someone actually knows about your illness can help Re-frame the outlook on the situation. That person probably just wanted to help if they said it that way in that context ! Not everyone wants to hurt you, even if some people do!

ah thank you! In this case I think it was an ableist remark by the tone and the other contents of what they said. I appreciate this ask though! Unfortunately some people just... aren't kind about such things. They did try to argue with me after I brought up a reason I can't and I quickly shut that down. It ended up bothering me way more than it should have and is still pretty fresh in my mind as it happened only yesterday.

I'm grateful that I'm surrounded by people who do genuinely understand and do give good advice! And because my disabilities are mostly invisible, it rarely happens that people outside of my group make any comment at all about them. It's just... unfortunate when they do. Most "advice" I've been given by strangers throughout my life has been thinly veiled to just straight-up unsolicited and disparaging comments about me or my parents for "letting me be disabled" (when in reality they've only done their best over the years to help me succeed as a person despite the struggles they had too.)

Adding disabilities into the equation doesn't negate the respect and decency you deserve... It is my firm belief that everyone, despite their personal situations, should be treated with kindness, and that wasn't even afforded to me by those select few, just because I'm slightly off of what they view as acceptable. It adds insult to injury that they were trying to frame it as "being helpful" in those situations.

In the end, it doesn't matter that I do take care of myself, that I hike, or that I look physically "healthy", there are still people with pre-concieved ableist notions that are apparent when you tell them you have "health problems." People should be afforded decency no matter their problems and that decency should be reflected in what they chose to say to you. After all is said and done, those negative interactions will never be as important to me as the generous and genuine advice that I've been given by those (strangers and friends alike) who were kind to me.

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

[miharuhebinata]

do you mean twilight princess, in which she held a sword exactly once in a flashback and pretty much immediately dropped it in surrender? or wind waker, where she forgets how to use a sword the second she turns into princess zelda until literally the final battle 🤔? and i genuinely can't think of whatever other time you're referring to that she apparently uses a sword. spirit tracks? ok i'll give you that one, i guess, because phantom zelda is pretty badass, but other than that.........??

"ummm actually it's a good thing that zelda plays differently from link, because link has the triforce of courage so of course he fights and uses swords! meanwhile zelda has the triforce of wisdom, so obviously she's going to find more clever ways to solve her problems teehee ;)" hey did you guys know you can still be excited for the game while also acknowledging it's pretty fucking shitty of nintendo to act like zelda is incapable of picking up a sword in a mainline game.

[aroaceleovaldez]

random question but i came across a post of yours where you talked about how mark oshiro sort of erased an aspect of nico's ADHD by making a joke about how he only liked mythomagic cards because he's gay and there are hot guys on the cards, and then TSATS also seemed to really downplay the themes of neurodivergence in the series. and it made me wonder if you have any thoughts on how the show has portrayed the demigods' ADHD and dyslexia so far? i've seen some people say that the show also downplayed it a lot, and i'm inclined to agree... which feels really weird considering that rick's own son's neurodivergence was specifically a major inspiration for him writing the series. but if i recall correctly a lot of scenes showcasing that in the first book were taken out of the show.

Oh absolutely, a lot of scenes and general discussion about adhd/dyslexia were removed in the show (and some of the disability-coding in general - i appreciate the change they made with making Chiron disabled based on his mythos rather than just using a wheelchair as a disguise, but i wish they had kept Grover's crutches in a similar manner honestly) - I've made a couple of posts discussing it: here, here, and this reblog is relevant to my opinions about the matter. There's probably some other stuff in my pjo tv crit tag.

I think the main sentiment i have regarding it - which i've seen a couple of other people mention as well - is how much the show ignores or outright removes and downplays Percy's personal struggles with his disabilities to instead emphasize Sally's experiences instead, particularly in manners of her taking out her stress on Percy - which alongside being completely antithetical to Sally's role in the books, is pretty ableist and why I continually compare show!Sally to Autism Speaks Parents. Autism Speaks tends to make an emphasis on the struggles of the parents of autistic children rather than treating autistic individuals like a person experiencing their own struggles. One of the major points of Sally's character (and later Paul) in the books is that she's an incredibly accommodating parent and works hard to make sure Percy is supported when he's struggling with his disabilities, because he's not been able to find that accommodation elsewhere. That's part of why Sally is such a great mom in particular, and is intentionally supposed to directly contrast Annabeth's home life struggles with her parents having difficulty navigating how to provide that same level of accommodation to help support her (and how Annabeth finds that accommodation at CHB instead, because that's the metaphor that CHB is supposed to represent - an appropriately accommodating system they can rely on, and then exploring how that's still a flawed system and looking at how disabled kids/demigods fall through the cracks and how to change the system to better support them).

The show also almost completely ignores Percy's ADHD/dyslexia experiences in general after the first episode. I was honestly really happy with, in the first episode, how clearly Percy's poor experiences in the American education system, particularly relating to his neurodivergence, have informed his reaction to situations such as people trying to tell him he's a demigod in coded language. It was essentially the perfect update to something i've discussed in the past here, about how the original "all demigods have adhd/dyslexia because it's secretly SUPERPOWERS" thing was presented as the basis for the series and why that teaching/parenting style fell out of favor. We see Percy in e1 acknowledge how dismissive of his struggles it is to constantly just be told he's "special" - and we even get explicit acknowledgement of how that description is used aggressively and for ostracization (from Nancy), which is extremely true to the experiences of kids who grew up with that teaching/parenting structure. But then we get to episode 2 and... all the acknowledgement of ADHD/dyslexia/etc is gone. We get at most a one-off acknowledgement from Luke that demigods are all neurodivergent and that's it. Pretty much nothing else for the entire rest of the season, save for flashback scenes that only emphasize Sally's experiences, not acknowledge Percy's. No further acknowledgement of Percy's dyslexia, or Annabeth's, or anything about their ADHD, or even Percy's completely removed PTSD (which we know for sure because of both writer commentary [see: that second post i linked about the LA Times article] and Percy's total lack of reaction to Mr. D). Nothing.

It was extremely disheartening to say the least, having such a strong start and it evaporating completely, and I fully agree with you.

[yuri-is-online]

TD anon here, I do feel you on the "torture" scene with Taiga, I didn't want my last ask getting any longer lmao.

While the scene definitely made me squeal, for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after with Romeo lmao. It's exactly how I felt with Frostheim too, being excited over the dance with Jin, and then immediately after we get the cigarette kiss scene with Jin and Tohma LOL. But it only makes sense, MC has only just showed up at the school, not enough time to bond, and honestly with these kinds of joseimuke games I don't have much expectations of interactions between the cast and MC so in TD she's already much more involved with the whole comic thing anyways.

Eating the Like Dove raw... was really a raw scene lol. He seems to be attracted to blood for some reason? Since he paused when MC's cut started bleeding, I think he was about to lick the blood tbh.

And yeah I do wonder if his shoddy memory has anything to do with his deal's cost. Another vibe theory time, I feel like his fear of the Like Dove might've been... ingrained in him somehow? Maybe he had a run-in before but can't remember it. The reason why I think this is because when MC met him alone, when she reminded him that she was the Honor student, his response was "Oh no wonder I didn't kill you on the spot", he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill.... if that makes sense?

He feels like an even bigger enigma than Towa, I'm curious to know what's going on in his head in the moments he goes eerily quiet. Not to mention he's the poster boy of the game, has to be a reason. Luca feels more in line to be the poster boy but it's Taiga...

I enjoyed Haru's drunk spiel about how helpful MC is lol. Also my eyes going wide when Rui said he wants to know what she's made of too... what does that mean....... I need more Rui content, I love his blatant flirtations lol. I got a campus event with Rui, Haru and Romeo in the bar before I even read the chapter, their unexpected friendship is very cute ngl.

(sorry in case this is sent repeatedly, smth wrong with my net atm)

Generally speaking I have found tumblr doesn't post or send things twice but it sure as hell reblogs them with the same tags 42 times making me look like some sort of freak

for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after

Yeah I get this. The cigarette kiss with Tohma and Jin took me off guard, but that was mostly because I thought this was an otome game? Come to think of it I don't think we've had confirmation of the whole joseimuke v otome game thing beyond the existence of the like dove and individual character affinity... Well and that when this was announced it was supposed to be an otome game. I know that the otome games subreddit has been having some, shall we say spirited? Discussions lately about how players feel about ros getting into relationships with each other. The general opinion was that a lot of times the ro x ro relationships feel more fleshed out that the ro x mc ones, and I agree. I actually stopped writing something I wanted to be an otome game because the story started shaping up to be more about the mc's mentor than them, and I personally do not think that is very fun. People do like laid back mcs, they do not like mcs who have no place in the narrative, and some writers aren't good at balancing that. TDB mc is doing pretty well when it comes to interactions with the main cast compared to something like Twisted Wonderland if what you want is explicit romance, so far it feels like Season 1 of og Obey Me! from what I remember of that game, so we'll see.

I didn't get the same level of intimacy from Romeo and Taiga as I did Jin and Tohma? But I think that's because in both cases I thought the like dove had appeared before Romeo got there and was talking to Taiga and the second scene made me think Taiga was angry at him for interrupting his "fun." Whatever that "fun" was going to wind up being because yeeeeeah he seems like he has a blood kink of some sort. I think he was going to suck on it and bite her a bit, but licking seems like a logical first step and less influenced by what's wrong with me. Like I said over here the scene with the Like Dove fascinates me... it says more about Taiga than any other character in the game that we get to see the dove twice and that when given the chance he shoots and eats it... if that isn't a metaphor for denial and emotional repression then I am not sure what is.

he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill…. if that makes sense?

YES. I wanted to talk about this but it sort of got into conspiracy theory territory and my answer was getting long. I don't know if anyone remembers, but waaaay back in Book 1 when mc tries to escape the school she isn't able to get anyone's attention. It's like they don't see her, is that because of her curse or is it because of preventative measures put in place by the school? I want to lean towards the latter because it makes more sense BUT I also want to be delusional and say that it's part of mc's curse. There's something about Taiga's instinctual fear of the Like Dove and his comments to the mc that make me think his body knows her but his paranoia and memory issues keep him from knowing it.

This is just me writing fan fic... but Taiga is technically the first ghoul you meet. He is the poster boy of the game, he is the first person to bring mc into the main loop and tell her there's a spy. I want so badly for him to have known her at some point but to have been robbed of his memories... Romeo seems to think he is trying to forget stuff on purpose "gone off the deep end" and "escape reality" are both things he says to describe him though granted that last one was due to a misunderstanding about what Taiga was trying to do with the anomaly. Something real bad happened last year, something I feel like Taiga doesn't want to acknowledge unless he can get revenge on whoever caused it. I mentioned in another post, but I sort of want MC to have something to do with Clementia and that's why she's there at the dorm beyond it just being empty due to the clash. (I do get why Luca isn't the poster boy; he's not a dorm captain and those seem to be what the game wants to push. well them and towa lol)

Haru and Rui

Rui is a bar tender who is described as being "popular with the female students" probably because of how flirty he is ha. I love his dynamic with Haru and Romeo, just a barman and his two favorite customers shooting the shit and trying to relax. Rui is cursed to kill whoever he touches, so I think he wants to talk with MC more because he can relate to her in a very unique way. And he got gate kept from doing so by Haku in book one so he's extra curious now. I have his SR so I'll put him on my homescreen for a bit and see what voice lines I can shake out of him. For the little bit I did have him there he called him and mc "curse twins" which I thought was very cute. In a dark sort of way. The entire section at the Obscuary bar endeared me to all three of those idiots.

But especially Haru. He called Peekaboo his child this chapter too ;-; he's such a good dad. I wonder if he is going to show up next books at all? Or if it's going to be like the previous books and we'll instead see Taiga and maaaaybe Towa? Since he's friends with Zenji. Nothing to do but wait for May 0-0

[steviewashere]

Loving Who You Are, Not What You Offer

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Referenced Rape/Non-Con (Not Between Main Pairing), Panic Attack (Sort of) Tags: Post Season 4, Post Canon, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Asexual Steve Harrington, Coming Out, Protective Eddie Munson, Patient Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Has Sexual Trauma, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Slight Comphet Steve Harrington, Dialogue Heavy

Okay, honestly, this one comes from a more personal place. So I'm gonna have to ask y'all to be kind about this one. I've recently come to terms that I'm somewhere on the asexual spectrum and I just needed to apply that somewhere, so. Also, writing from Eddie's point of view rather than Steve's helps me, so I don't wanna hear shit about it.

Read the content warning one more time before you continue and let me know if I missed anything <3

🩵—————🩵 There was an uncovered layer to Steve Harrington, that much Eddie has deduced.

It’s a subtle, blink and you wouldn’t notice, kind of thing. But even this uncovered layer had layers. And he’s not sure if anybody else has caught on. He was able to catalog several odd things about Steve that just…didn’t match his character. Not at all. Which has led, though it started casually and accidentally, to Eddie making a whole new doctrine.

The Odd Steve Behavior Doctrine. With a few noticeable bullet points:

-Don’t touch him without asking -Don’t ask him about his sex life -Don’t talk about sex around him, at all -He especially doesn’t like casual intimacy -Earning Steve’s trust is like climbing up a rocky mountain

He follows these rules he’s made for himself. Tries to keep himself casual and known in Steve’s presence. And hopes that it’s enough to get Steve to crack, even the slightest. Maybe he’ll say why these things bother him, Eddie initially thought.

Maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and let Steve come to me in his own time, he eventually noted. Because he doesn’t need to be in everybody’s business all the time, which is a typical thing for Eddie. He likes being nosy and involved with the lives of people around him. He likes to think of himself as the person his friends can come to, no matter the reason or the intensity of their need. And maybe part of it is selfish, too. He can admit that to himself. That he, in turn, wants to be everything Steve needs at the end of the day. Bearing the brunt of all that Steve has going wrong or right in his life.

Things come to Eddie little by little from Steve’s mouth. None that answer to any of the bullets in his doctrine, but things that are important, too. Like confessions, moments that Steve saw as flaws.

“I called Jonathan Byers a queer in 1983. That’s why he beat me up. I deserved it,” he told Eddie one day. Casually, complete nonchalance, as easy as discussing the weather. Steve had been cradling a mug of coffee at their local diner. Picked at the pancake platter he ordered all for himself. And, at Eddie’s coming out (“I’m gay, Steve,” Eddie admitted quietly mere moments before. He brought up love lives. Was poking around what was going on with Steve’s. And casually, he realizes, it just came up.), Steve took a sharp inhale. Confessed this bomb of a statement. Grimaced at the memory that must’ve played out behind his eyes. Then, murmured, “But thank you for trusting me with that, Eddie. I just need you to know that I was somebody you wouldn’t before. In case that…In case maybe you wanna take back that trust. Wouldn’t blame you, that’s all I’m saying.”

Eddie sat in that for a good several moments. As they slurped at their room temperature, rather mediocre mugs of Joe. “I still trust you,” he eventually said, “You don’t have to keep proving yourself to me, you know?” Steve merely shrugged. And that was confessional number one.

Following that, Steve mentioned being tortured by Russians. Which, Eddie thought that was reason for him not liking touch. It may be part of the reason, but there was something to Steve’s eyes that told him that couldn’t be farther from the truth. Eddie didn’t ask. Steve didn’t elaborate. Tortured by Russians, beat up by his peers, chewed up like a dog toy, the list in Eddie’s mind of All the Bad Things That Happened to Steve was growing longer and longer by the day. But Steve was telling him things, letting him in. It was a start.

So, Eddie had two catalogs all about Steve to keep up with in his mind. All the Bad Things and The Do’s and Don’ts of Steve Harrington.

Being his friend was an earned thing and it was a pleasant thing, but it also broke Eddie’s heart bit by bit. He’d never admit to this, but he had to realize that at some point. He wondered if Robin ever felt the same. Maybe even Nancy. But he wasn’t going to ask. Because who asks something like that? Eddie won’t be the first, but it won’t be the last somebody thinks that, he’s sure.

Even though Steve was breaking through his own mold, cracking his mask, shattering mirrors of who he was, none of it actually answered any of Eddie’s don’ts regarding him. None of it eased him. None of it lended itself in any sort of way. If anything, all of these other greater things only added to the incessant itch that couldn’t be scratched under Eddie’s skin.

Who are you really, Steve, Eddie asked himself all too much.

He doesn’t want to upset the poor guy.

But he’ll never know, he’s coming to realize. It’s just not in the cards.

———

It comes to a head, because of course it does. And he didn’t mean for it to, but it just happens.

They’re hanging out at Steve’s new-ish apartment. Lounging around on his, frankly, ugly floral second-hand couch. It’s musty and not all that soft on the cushions, lumpy and shifting. But they make do with it as they have a movie marathon. Steve is sprawled between the far right and middle cushion, Eddie is leaning against the left arm rest, legs crossed one over the other, head in his hand. Then, his stomach grumbles all too loudly in a room full of droning noise.

He leans into Steve’s space slightly. Reaches out a hand and places it on his thigh. Squeezes Steve’s leg and opens his mouth to ask if he’s hungry. But, for some reason, Steve tenses to the extremes underneath his touch. His hands grip harshly to the back of the couch and the throw pillow near his head. Legs going taut and straining against Eddie’s touch.

“Steve?” Eddie calls softly.

“Stop,” musters from Steve. It’s tiny. Cracking in half. Brings tears to his eyes immediately.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, though. “What?” He asks. “What am I doing?” There’s a thrum in his chest. Something unsettling and obtuse. It pulsates and shifts and bitters his throat the way acidic bile does.

With force Eddie’s only seen in the Upside Down, Steve latches onto Eddie’s wrist. Tight enough that Eddie has to bite back a yelp of pure and unadulterated pain. Nearly enough to break the bone that Steve’s thumb digs into. He shoves Eddie away with just his grip. Scrambles to the far corner of the couch, legs tucked in close to his chest, knees colliding with his chin. He wraps his arms around himself.

And then, the softest noise breaks through between them. It’s quiet, yet somehow louder than the tape playing. It works its way under Eddie’s skin. Into his stomach, through his throat, and into his brain. Steve’s gentle, manufactured cries. Stifled behind his lips. In real time, Eddie watches him shatter. The way his eyes gloss over, his cheeks going splotchy with the sounds, his shoulders shake.

“Woah, hey,” Eddie whispers, reaching out again. He wants to ground him. Wants to comfort the way he knows how. How he soothes Wayne’s panic episodes. And how he calms Dustin down from lashing out. Or when Robin talks herself in circles. Wants to just…be there. “Hey, Steve, are you—“

“Don’t touch me,” Steve bites out, “I don’t have anything—You—I don’t want to.”

Immediately, Eddie drops his hand to the now unoccupied middle cushion. The fabric meeting his palm. Going cold. Warm where Steve had just been relaxed. And Eddie—he may be a dastardly fool most days, dumb as rock the others, three time senior—knows exactly what he did, now that he’s focused on every small movement he makes. He’s perceptive to the way Steve is leaning as far away as possible. How crumpled he makes his body. Eddie notices how much space has been created and where his hands lie.

I’m so stupid, he thinks, that’s like rule one. 

Don’t touch him without asking.

“Fuck,” Eddie softly curses. He pulls himself away. To his own corner of the sofa. And swallows the bit of panic that rises in him. His eyes drift away from Steve’s fearful face, to his own hands. Twitches them in his lap, against his knees. Wants to cut them off. Throw them into a blender. Feed them to the birds. Something. But he forces himself to look back up.

Steve trembles against the couch. In a way that is not the Steve Harrington that Eddie met when fighting other worldly creatures. That dismantles everything and anything he once knew.

“Shit. I—Steve, I’m so sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “I’m sorry. I know that you don’t like that unless people ask. And I just—I wasn’t thinking, I promise. It was just—You know, I’m touchy with all my friends and I was just going to see if you wanted me to make some dinner or order some food. I was just trying to get your attention, y’know, and I didn’t mean anything by it. I promise, I swear. I swear on my mom, Steve. I would never—“ He takes a deep, gasping breath. Coughing on the inhale. His hands shake, now. And he doesn’t think he’s ever seen fear paint itself so clear and bright on a person’s face, but he’s looking into it. Steve’s pallor and yet still red cheeks. And his all consuming, though far away eyes. His built body, yet childlike hold.

A part of Eddie wants to cry, too. I’ve fucked up, he panics internally, I’ve fucked everything up and now he’s not going to be my friend and he was such a good friend, too. Why did I have to do that? I just wanted to make sure he was fed, too. That’s it. He’s such a good friend and now I’ve fucked it and I just—I—

“You wanted to make me food?” Steve quietly croaks.

Eddie, in an instant, nods. “Yes!” He exclaims in his own panic. “Yes, I swear, Steve. I wasn’t thinking when I touched your thigh. And I—What do you want to eat, Stevie? Say the word, I’ll find a way to make it or…something.”

His hands twitch in his lap once more. Thumbs catching on the ripped holes of his jeans. The threads soft and wearing away under his skin. The scratchy, dry bit of skin that peers through. He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t think he breathes. Just makes eye contact with Steve. Which, surely, is overbearing and unnecessary and…I’m probably freaking him out more, calm down. He takes a deep breath, blows it away from him, and lowers his shoulders from where he didn’t know they were hiking.

“It was nothing more than to check-in. I promise,” he reiterates, murmuring.

Steve, finally, draws away from himself. With his own breath. He unravels his legs, stretching them out to their full length onto the middle cushion. Arms going limp at his sides. Hands resting against his thighs. His eyes dart—left and right and left and right—between Eddie’s. Nods once. “Okay,” he meekly musters. “Okay, Eds. Can…We can order pizza. There should be a menu on the kitchen counter. I’ll—“

Eddie stands from his own cushion before Steve gets the chance to. “Nope, don’t worry about it. Just try and relax, yeah? I’ll go put in an order, pay for it. You…Pepperoni pizza?” Steve just nods, tentative and surprised. “Cool,” Eddie states, “I’ll be right back.”

The phone call goes by quick and he easily sets the money out for when the driver gets there. But he’s not entirely sure his presence is going to be a warm welcome in the living room again. He gets a glass of water anyway because, surely, Steve will tell him to go if he isn’t wanted.

Steve’s in the same position as when Eddie left. Though, his gaze isn’t entirely there. Somewhere beyond Eddie’s shoulder. But there’s a gleam, a little shine that tells him that Steve isn’t gone from himself, not yet at least. He sits back down in his own cushion. Glass on the coffee table. And turns, keeping himself tight to his own body.

“Hey, Steve?” He calls out, watching as Steve blinks sluggishly back into his body. “I—uh—I got you some water, if you want it. Drinking water usually helps me feel better after…After a down moment, y’know?”

Next to him, Steve hums. He sighs. “Can I trust you with something?” He asks, forgoing the water entirely.

Eddie nods in haste. “Of course, Steve. If you have something you have to tell me, I can keep things to myself,” he states. Which is one hundred percent true. He may be a loud guy, screaming and yelling when need be. May be somebody that fills a room with noise, if only so he doesn’t succumb to the silence. But he knows how to keep a secret. It’s sort of a survival tactic, is what he’d say if somebody asked him about it. He’s kept secrets about his parents, things behind lock and key in his ribcage. Granted, he may forget, but he won’t say a damn thing. And he surely won’t spill Steve’s beans, especially with the way he looks to him in open earnest.

“Okay,” Steve responds. His legs fall away from the couch and he rights himself into being completely upright. Ramrod straight. On the far right cushion. Mirroring Eddie’s tight pose. Feet flat to the floor. His eyes trace something on the coffee table, cracks probably, but Eddie can’t exactly tell. “Okay. I…You’re going to be the second person I’ve ever told this to, alright? And I—I figured that it would come out sooner or later, but you’re gonna need an explanation for whatever the fuck just happened. And I don’t know how else to talk about it without just going all-in. So…I just need you to listen. Can you do that?”

“Yeah,” Eddie murmurs, “you have the floor, Stevie. My mouth is shut.”

Steve nods slow, a ghost of a smile on his face. Breathes in through his nose, it traps in his chest and comes out as one gentle gust. He swallows heavily, words seemingly rising in his throat. And that smile falls away just as it sprung.

“In middle school, before I was popular and whatever, I had a group of friends that I ran with. We were all nerds, I won’t deny that. And—And I would involve myself with some of their interests, if only because I wanted to fit in,” Steve explains first. His eyes roam again. Not picking a spot, but Eddie won’t fault him for it. He continues, voice fracturing, “One of the guys I was closer to, we’ll call him R, he was interested in this club. It was kind of like a tech club? Focused on radios and channels and math and…Things that I was actually kind of good with, but needed a better understanding on. So, I figured, I’d sign up for this club. Go with my…friend.”

Before he goes on to say more, he leans over for the glass of water on the table. Holds it gently between his hands. Doesn’t take any sips. The condensation droplets roll down his fingers. Cold most likely keeping him grounded to the room.

Eddie can already tell he’s not going to like wherever this part of Steve’s past leads him. How Steve has to take breaks, it upsets Eddie greatly. He’s not sure he’s entirely prepared for whatever confession comes from Steve this time, but he’ll digest it. Get through this with the guy and figure out all he needs to.

Another steadying breath. And Steve’s voice is like gravel, but he keeps talking.

“It was a weekly thing. And we’d go in. Be taught about gadgets and whats-its and whatnot. R was there, though. He was always there. We’d talk, laugh, shoot the shit. Normal friend bullshit.

“One day, though. One day, something was…different. He looked at me. There was a sense of hunger. Want. A drive to him that I’d never seen before. He’d lean more into my space, drop his voice lower, whisper right into my ear.” Steve blinks in rapid succession. His breath keeps stuttering. And something in Eddie’s stomach sours. He goes, though. Pushing through. “I told him to stop. To knock it off. Kept telling him that I was trying to learn. That I wanted to focus. And he just…He wouldn’t,” he explains.

Eddie spikes with great unease and anger. Never at Steve. But whoever this so called ‘friend’ is, Eddie wants to maybe kill him. He keeps quiet, though. Steve wanted to share and he needs this out. And Eddie can listen. He can, even if it makes him want to cry, too.

“I thought that’s all it would be,” Steve speaks quietly, “Just him talking to me in this new tone. With this new level to his voice. But…I’m kind of stupid, I guess, so of course that’s not all he’d do. The next week at our club meeting, he got closer than before. He began to…” Steve stops and swallows. A single, silent tear crawls down his face. It doesn’t even phase him, the way crying usually does. It’s just background at this point. “…He began to—to touch me in ways I’d never been. And I—I told him to stop, I remember doing that. I remember putting distance between us. And saying no and saying stop and shoving his hands off me. But he just—“ A broken little sob. “—He was supposed to be my friend,” he states, small as a child.

The sobs rack Steve in such a way that his whole body is jolting with it. Nearly toppling off the couch. He chugs the water between cries, but doesn’t move from his spot. Tight and closed off within his own body.

“I wanted him to just be my friend,” Steve continues a moment later, nasally and choked. “But he didn’t want that. He kept overpowering every single decision I made. His breath on my earlobe. And his hands on my thigh, on my…He fucking touched my crotch. Tried to coerce me into having sex,” he spits. “That guy…He made me feel fucking disgusting. About my own body. About things I loved. About sex,” Steve growls, “Made me sort of dislike all those things, too.”

Eddie, for how loud he can be, is completely silent for once. Unable to form words. Not sure how to comfort. And if he could comfort, isn’t sure if that’s something he can do the way he wants to. He can’t touch. Can’t do what he’d normally do. And his body aches to take care of Steve or to simply hold him. To be…well, to be a friend. But that’s not something Steve can exactly trust.

He feels sick to his stomach.

The last bit of water is sipped at slowly, as Steve comes down. Then, he turns to face Eddie. Making direct and purposeful eye contact. “It’s not your fault, that I reacted like I did,” he states lowly. “And it’s not your fault that I close up when you want to talk about sex. Or you wanna talk about all that intimate shit. It’s something with me. Like something’s broken. It’s like a deep crack in me, Eddie.

“And I just wanted to clear up all that. Explain what I can, I guess.” He snakes out a tentative hand. It’s shaking and hesitant, but it still lands softly on the back of Eddie’s right. Squeezes. “But thank you for taking notice. And being concerned. And for apologizing. I feel safe with you, Eddie. I trust you a lot. Which is like—That’s probably highest honors you could earn with me.” And he chuckles slightly. It’s not a humorous thing, but it’s not exactly humorless either.

Eddie lets himself soak in this, though. Smiling warmly back at Steve. Because he needs it. They both need it. He murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me with that, Steve. That wasn’t easy and I’m proud of you for speaking up about it. I’m glad to be somebody you can trust.”

With another exhale, Steve relaxes back into the couch. His hand doesn’t move from Eddie’s. “I also want to say that you’re allowed to talk about your relationships with dudes,” he states quietly. “Seriously, I don’t mind. But just…Just check in with me? Before you do?”

“Of course,” he agrees instantly. “I’ll keep that in my noggin, promise, Stevie.”

Ghost of a smile on Steve’s face again. “Thanks,” he whispers.

A lull floats in the conversation. Steve removes his hand, watching as his fingers twitch, and there’s a little uptick to the corners of his mouth. Something pleased and almost…reverent at the way he looks at his hand.

Before Eddie can get up to change out the movie, he heaves a little sigh. And says, “Y’know, if you ever need any sort of physical comfort, need to talk about this, or you just need somebody to tell you that you’re okay, you can lean on me. Don’t even need to ask, really. I’m all arms.”

“I’ll think about it, Eds. This has been enough for me."

——— Steve comes out to him at the same diner Eddie did only a few years later.

It’s 1990, Eddie’s twenty-four and Steve’s freshly twenty-three. He has a certain spark to him. A sparkle to his smile and a pep in his step. And Eddie’s happy to see him happy.

Happy to eventually call their relationship romantic. Happy to share spots on the couch, curled around each other. Happy to kiss him slow and sweet or not at all, just able to gaze over coffee mugs and across the room and when Steve thinks he can’t be seen.

Eddie’s just happy to be allowed this love that fills his chest and in the colder, vacant spots of their lives.

But he realizes he still hasn’t heard everything about Steve. He gives it time, though. Because the second most important thing to Steve—first just being there for him—is patience.

The next of their chats happens when things get heated on the couch.

Soft kisses turn hungry, carnivorous. Hands wander over heated skin. Steve’s fingers against the hem of Eddie’s t-shirt. But his hands shake. And Eddie places his own hands off to the sides of the couch, pulling himself away before things can get any farther than they already are.

“Hey,” he softly speaks, “Steve, we don’t—I’m okay with just kissing right now. We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

Steve stops next to him. Tensing up only slightly. “Are you—You’re sure about that?” His voice is so tiny, so unlike him. And though Eddie’s heard this tone before, it still breaks him.

He says easily, “I don’t want you to be scared of our first time, baby. It’s okay if we need to take things slow.”

He watches as Steve heavily swallows. “And if I asked if we never had sex?”

Eddie eyes him for a moment. Not wearily. With something like subtle pride. “Is that what you want?” He asks in turn. “Would that make you more comfortable?”

Subtly, Steve nods. “I—“ He sighs sadly. ���I’ve been thinking about how to talk to you about it. With girls, I never even liked it. I just did it because it…There was something to say about a guy who could have sex with anybody he wants. But I also…I don’t know.” He shrugs as if trying to dismiss it, but Eddie doesn’t like that.

He sets a hesitant, soft hand on Steve’s shoulder. Squeezes when he doesn’t move away. “If you never want to have sex again, I’d be okay with that. I’d be more than okay with that,” he states assuringly. “You being happy and comfortable is what matters most to me. Not sex. I don’t give a shit about sex, not when I get to see you every day, smile on your face, and your eyes shiny and beautiful.”

Steve gives another small sigh, but the smile he has doesn’t waver. “Okay. I—Eddie, I don’t think I want to have sex,” he admits quietly. It shakes from his throat, but it’s still confident the way it lands between them. “It just doesn’t feel good to me. And I—I don’t want to force myself to do it. And it wouldn’t be fair to you, either.”

Another affirmative squeeze to Steve’s shoulder. “Alright, baby. Then we don’t have sex,” he agrees softly. “And if you ever change your mind—not that I’m forcing you to—then I’m okay with what you want.” He scoots himself closer so that their bodies are one single line, warm against each other. Reiterating, “Your happiness and comfort matter the most to me.”

With both of his hands, Steve wraps Eddie’s free one. Traces the veins on the back of his hand. Toys with his fingers. “We can still kiss, though,” he states quietly. “Maybe I want a kiss.”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mhm,” Steve hums. So, he closes the gap. A wet peck to Eddie’s lips. Soft and venturing. One that last only a few seconds. He draws back with the softest smile adorned on his features. Murmurs, “Thank you for hearing me out on this. And for understanding. And for accepting this.”

“I love you, Steve. Just for you. Not the sex or touch. We could never do anything except sit next to each other and talk, and I’d still love you,” Eddie swears.

Steve sniffs something wet. Shoves himself a little closer, cuddling into Eddie’s chest. To which Eddie wraps his arms around his back in response. And he sighs, but it’s a sound of long awaited relief. “I love you, too, Eddie. God, I love you.”

The conversations are tough and they are stomach turning, but after it all, Eddie gets to have Steve. How he is. How he wants to be. And that’s all Eddie could hope for.

He kisses the top of Steve’s head and relaxes back into the couch. “I’m proud of you, Steve,” he murmurs, “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for being patient. Being here.”

Eddie squeezes them together even tighter. Warm in his chest at the content noise that draws itself from Steve. This could be all that they do forever and Eddie would never ask for more.

🩵—————🩵

[ladykailitha]

Fucking hell, Tumblr!

Seriously this is such a fucking problem and every time I think I have the tagging sorted so people see my works, Tumblr comes along and fucks with something so that people don't see them.

Yesterday's chapter of Not All That Glitters is Gold isn't even showing up in my #ladykailitha writes tag at all. Actually none of the story is. And I'm betting I know the why on that one. The whole sex worker aspect of it all. (God, I hate purity culture so fucking bad.)

But a lot of my most recent posts for longer stories is barely hitting 80 notes when previous chapters did at least 140+.

Well Met By Moonlight and Never Hold Back Your Step (Werewolf Steve and Boy w/a Bat respectively) in particular are hardest hit. The majority of the people liking and reblogging aren't those being tagged, they're people who have seen it on their dash or even the steddie tag and liked.

So I guess this is my check in with you all:

Are you seeing my stories when I tag you? When I tag #ladykailtiha writes?

Is it when I post that makes it so hard to interact with? I post 10am EST if that's not a good time, let me know and I'll change it.

I thought it was because I was posting so often but my last two standalone stories both hit over 400 notes. Both The Rockstar and the Teacher and Musical Genius Steve did high numbers fast.

So is it posting fatigue? Am I posting too much, too fast? Are you just tired of the stories I'm writing?

This isn't a "YOU HAVE TO INTERACT WITH MY STORIES BY REBLOGGING AND COMMENTING ROARRRR!!!" post. I'm just seeing a huge drop in numbers for a lot of people honestly. Even the insanely popular steddie writers aren't getting the numbers they used to get (I stalk the steddie tag, so sue me).

So what's scaring people off? It is just a busy time for people? Help an anxious writer out here.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @danili666

@goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

@justforthedead89 @vecnuthy @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination @dragonmama76 @scheodingers-muppet @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

@useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

[oddballwriter]

The Second

Summary: After going on an unplanned adventure with your best friend and crush, his host, and his host's wife to stop the end of the world, and ending up in an accidental love triangle... square...whatever shape it is, you go back to your hometown to clear your mind. It's a great success for you, helping you reconnect with your childhood friend and even bring him back to continue the fun and show him your life in London. But unbeknownst to you, it seems like it might just cause a rift that is born on one side of the triangle.

Warnings: Love triangle and unrequited feelings. The reader is referred to using she/her. Angst, it's soft but it's there. Third-wheeling. I can't think of anything else but I feel like there's more, if there is just tell me. 

Author’s Snip: This is sort of a pilot for a series idea that I have that involves all kinds of love shape situations, rivalry, and dragging friends into all kinds of avatar shenanigans on accident. So if you guys like this, let me know so that I can prep and have it ready for writing and planning.

Notes: This is not proofread before posting, if there are errors blame Grammarly for not catching it. I might fix them later.  

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 2,892

Tag List: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

What an adventure you just went on. It all feels so unreal when you even try and think about it. Even as you stare up at the ceiling above your bed you find it hard to really digest fully.

Your good friend Steven turned out to be an alter for a person with DID who's named Marc Spector, whom you had not met, ever, throughout you and Steven's close friendship. In which Marc is the avatar and fist of justice for the Egyptian god Khonshu and was living his life while Steven was not fronting, unbeknownst to Steven, and has been playing a game of keep-away with a cult and their leader for a scarab. And you ended up finding all that out when some members of the cult kidnapped you to intimidate Steven and Marc. By the way, Marc is married and has been married, to a woman named Layla. And so you had to go on this whole adventure with all three of them to stop the end of the world, or something, nearly dying on several occasions, and now it's done apparently. Crisis averted. Also, there is a fucking third one.

You're sure that if you told someone outside of your journal and your new group of friends about this, then you would be thrown into a psychiatric hospital in record time.

And that isn't even mentioning all the complicated feelings you're having right now about the love triangle, that only you are aware of. Because of course, you're in a love triangle that the two other people have no idea exists. It's complicated. It was a little complicated at the start, and now it's so much more complicated because now there's another person involved.

Scratch that, four people involved. This is a love square.

Fuck it, now that Jake's here it might actually be a love pentagon now!

Either way, it all has to do with your feelings towards Steven. You had developed them pretty early on in your friendship with Steven because you just so happened to fall into your type. Dork, sweet, funny, and polite guys were your weakness. You tried to fight them off, not wanting to ruin the friendship that you honestly valued with Steven. But he just had this aura and energy that had your heart like a moth to a flame. Some might call it a slow burn. You'd say that it all was fast. But the warmth went to heat that got painful when you found out about Marc and Layla, and thus Steven and Layla.

You're not mad at Layla. Of course not! Why would you? She was there first, technically. It feels bad to say that. Both because you'd have to try and snuff out the feelings that you have, but also because it sounds wrong. It sounds like Steven's an object to be won instead of a person with his own thoughts and feelings. And you never once saw him like that. He was Steven. Nice, sweet, funny Steven.

You knew you needed to move on, even if it hurt. You know you don't have the guts and nerve to be 'the other person' even if you got the chance to be. It would be disrespectful to Layla, and Layla's a great woman. You settle on going back home, to your hometown, to see family and friends in hopes that it'll distract you, maybe even help you get over it if you're lucky. You call up your family who gladly accept the idea and will set up the room that you'll stay in by the time you get there. With that, you pack your bags, get ready for the trip, and head off.

You don't tell Steven that you're leaving to anywhere at first until you're just about to leave, figuring that if he tries to visit you and you're not there he'll assume someone else has kidnapped you and panic. You just send him a simple "As a heads up I'll be out of town for a while. I need a break.", at some point in your trip heading towards your hometown he texts you back with a single "Okay. Sounds nice.".

As it turns out, going around old loved ones really does help your blues. Matter of fact it seems like everyone from your life here heard the news that you'd be spending a few weeks in town and all got together to see you. Your uncle and dad actually threw a little family cookout so that everyone can come say hi to you.

Everyone had questions for you. What's London like? What have you been doing? How's life going over there?

Of course, you can't tell them about all the recent events and you also don't want to ruin your good mood by talking about Steven like you probably would have if this were a trip not spawned from him, in a sense. Overall, everyone's just happy you're back regardless.

You meet a really old face amidst the crowd of family and friends who've assembled. Samson. Sammy. God, you'd know his face anywhere and you know he'd know yours too. You and Sammy have been best friends since diapers. Your moms were friends. Apparently, the story goes that your mom and dad were at the courthouse waiting in line to sign the marriage papers and so were Sammy's mom and dad. Your mothers started talking and it turns out they have a lot in common. By the time both parties left the courthouse, they were in each other's weddings, to which they then found out that they both would be moving into the same area to settle down. Your moms swear that you and Sammy being close in age was just a coincidence but you always joked that it wasn't.

Sammy is hard to put into words. How do you describe the person who's been your best friend since both of you were coloring with crayons and all the way to high school graduations and beyond? The number one person you would talk to about things outside of your parents and through all of the other friends you've both had throughout your lives, the one that has always been the same. Sammy is just Sammy to you, in the most sincere way possible.

After seeing each other at the cookout you catch up on just about everything. What you've been up to, any life milestones you've gotten to while apart. You tell him about London and he tells you about his life here in town. Sammy's gotten up to a few things, had a few girlfriends, and apparently, he's developed his own business. Turns out he's a handyman and locksmith now and makes great money. Gets to make his own hours, so he says. Sammy teases you a bit and asks if you've been collecting British boyfriends. You know it's just a tease but it plucks at the still tender parts of your heart a little. You brush it off and say no.

"No?" Sammy questions, "Come on. Someone like you over there? You're kidding me. You've got to have some guys waiting like a dog for you to come back." he says. You decide to play along in the banter.

"Maybe I do. What of it, Sam-I-Am." you shrug, pretending like he's trying to compete and also pulling out old childhood nicknames. Sammy cringes and the nickname, "Oof, not the Sam-I-Am from kindergarten. You know only my dad called me that until you said it in class. Then everyone started calling me that till fifth grade." Sammy laughs. "Not you doing your shitty British accents when I said I had a thing for British boys back in seventh grade." you reference and make a call back of your own. "It made you laugh and that was my goal." Sammy playfully defended.

For a good half of your stay, Sammy was there, like always, and you would be talking about the old days. Referencing various moments and laughing or cringing together. It felt so nostalgic and good to just feel that bond again, have someone who knows all your little inside jokes and references because they were there when it was formed, and you both didn't want it to stop.

So when the day that you were to go back to London you threw out the idea that Sammy come back with you and continue the fun there. Show him what you've been doing and show him the little life you've created there.

Even though you live in a one-bedroom apartment you managed to accommodate your guest pretty well. You always knew that the pull-out bed extension of your couch that you bought second-hand would have a use someday. You two settled on rules and bases, along with where various things are in case they're needed.

After that, it was just more talking that made the time go by so fast and other things seem so minuscule. You hadn't really paid attention to the fact that you had a brief text conversation with Steven when you got back basically just telling him that you were back and what you're up to right now. It wasn't until he texted you something that sort of snapped you out of it.

You: I'm not really doing anything but my friend came back with me and will be here for a bit.

Steven: Oh that's nice

Steven: Can I meet them maybe?

You weren't sure how long you spent looking at that message, but it was long enough that Sammy noticed. "Something wrong?" he asks. "No," you reply, "Just one of my friends. He says he wants to meet you... if you're okay with that," you explain but hesitate slightly at the end, not really liking the sound of having Steven over right now after being able to get him off your mind. "Sure! I'd love to meet one of your friends here." Sammy responds, "If that's alright with you of course." he adds.

You take a second to weigh it out in your mind. On one hand, having the guy that you have feelings for over after you went on a whole vacation partially because he doesn't feel that way towards you doesn't sound like the best idea. But maybe having Sammy here will reduce that feeling of awkwardness since it can just be having your friends meet each other.

Taking the gamble, you tell Steven that he's good to come over.

The next few minutes are spent continuing to talk to Sammy, making jokes and having banter. When you hear the knock at your door you and a text from Steven that announces that he's arrived. You get up from the couch and make your way to the door, unlocking it and opening it up. And there he is, smiling at you and giving you his usual polite little "hello". You greet him back before stepping out of the way so that he can come in.

Sammy gets up from his seat on the couch and comes to shake Steven's hand. You see Steven hesitate briefly and sort of freeze up before taking the hand shake. You step in between them.

"Steven, this is my childhood friend, Samson. Samson, this is my friend Steven." you introduce them to each other and gesture to them respectively. "Nice to meet you!" Sammy comments. "Likewise," Steven responds.

You all take a seat, you and Sammy back on the couch while Steven takes a chair from your little dining table set. Sammy and Steven have some good small talk back and forth, talking the usual stuff when you meet new people. You can see Steven being a little fidgety, picking at his sweater sleeve, nodding along but having a small crease between his brows. All things that he does when he's nervous or concerned with something, you take it as Steven being shy about meeting and talking to new people like he usually is. You take it upon yourself to sort of help him by bringing up subjects that you know he's good at talking about.

"Steven loves Ancient Egypt and mythos. He knows pretty much everything," you mention. Sammy raises his brows in interest, "Really?" he questions. "Oh yeah," Steven confirms, "I would have made a bloody good tour guide if my superior wasn't out to get me." Steven remarks. You see Sammy hold back a laugh in the corner of your vision, you turn to him and light-heartedly scold him with a "Stop it.". Sammy looks towards you, his smile growing to a shit-eating grin. "Stop it," you repeat, "Behave. I told you not to laugh," you say as you struggle to keep your own laughter in. "He said the thing." Sammy squeaks out before letting a few laughs leave him. You lean in and bap him on the shoulder playfully, "Stop," you warn as you give him a few baps.

Steven lets out a small laugh that only you can tell is his fake trying-to-pretend-I-get-it laugh. "I'm sorry, Steven." you apologize, "Not even 24 hours in and he doesn't know how to act," you say as you look back to Sammy and give him a playful shake. "I'm sorry." Sammy says to Steven, "There's an inside joke to it I swear." he says.

"What's the joke?" Steven inquires. Your face drops, knowing what Sammy is going to say. "Don't you dare," you warn Sammy as you try to cover his mouth, but Sammy already knew that you are going to stop him and is ready to block your hand. You both spend a few seconds lightly wrestling as you try to cover his mouth and he blocks you in some way. "It has something to do with her-" Sammy says before you interrupt him with a "No!" in objection, "British boyfriend!" Sammy announces. "I don't have a British boyfriend!" you object through laughs as you hit him with a couch pillow. You both spend a few moments laughing. When you finally calm down you find Steven looking at the two of you like you've grown and extra head.

You sigh and look to Sammy, "Why don't you explain 'British boyfriend' to him since you want to talk about it so much?". "Okay, okay," Sammy submits. "This one," Sammy says pointing at you, "Had a thing for this one kid who was visiting family for the summer in our home neighborhood back in seventh grade, or seventh year, whatever it's called here. And so we have this joke that he was her British boyfriend. And I used to do a really bad accent to make her laugh and get all embarrassed.", Sammy looks at you and reassures, "I'm not going to do it, don't worry.".

The conversation goes on but you and Sammy can't help but say more jokes that you then need to explain to Steven, which leads to other stories and laughing fits between the two of you. You try to do the same with Steven in case he references something between the two of you, but you find that Steven just seems to sit there and listen, nodding along. You want to try and prompt something but at some point, you're able to sense this weird tension in the air whenever you do.

You aren't too sure what to do. You don't want to shoo Steven out since you've always said that Steven was always welcomed at your place, but the atmosphere is strange between the two of you for some reason. It isn't until Sammy gives something that would get the job done.

"You know, it's really nice to meet you, Steven. But I think the traveling is starting to catch up with me." Sammy says as he stretches his arms out. "Oh, no worry. I was actually thinking of getting out of your hair. You know..." Steven responds, "Since you guys probably had to get out early to get back here." he clarifies. Steven was already getting up to leave by the time he even started talking.

Sammy and you get up also, and you go in for the usual goodbye hug that you and Steven do when parting ways, Sammy shakes Steven's hand again and says his goodbyes.

Once Steven leaves, you and Sammy set up the couch so that Sammy can nap for a bit. You head to your room so that you can take one for yourself and reflect on the meeting. You still have a bit of that feeling of weird tension but figure that maybe Steven wasn't prepared for all the energy that you and Sammy created and all the inside jokes. Maybe a second get-together could help with that. After all, it might be great to have two best friends also be best friends with each other.

Meanwhile, Steven walks back, sitting in his thoughts quietly as he walks until Marc appears in a reflection along the walk. "What's with the long face?" Marc asks. Steven glances at Marc for a moment, "Nothing, it's just that..." Steven opens up with, "I felt like a bit of a third wheel over there." he admits. Marc shrugs, "Well it is her friend from her hometown, isn't it? I'm sure they'd be all chatty with each other.".

"Yeah, I suppose so." Steven replies, "It just felt a bit... off." Steven remarks.

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

[insert-witty-user-name-here]

WIP Wednesday

Hello, it’s me- the angst fairy- back again with something needlessly angsty. I was reminded recently about a scene I’d deleted from an old fic of mine. No regrets about deleting, it was the right decision, but I was sad to cut it. B-15 deserves more character analysis. So sharing it now.

Tagging just a few folks who I don’t think will mind the angst but anyone else who sees this and wants to participate in sharing their art or writing- please do! 💚 (And please tag me in your posts so I don’t miss it) @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lgwilt @dewdropreader

Deleted scene from a fic where Mobius is trying to ignore his trauma but the memories of those he’s pruned keep on coming. B-15 helps him through it. (I noticed on B-15’s Funko Pop that she tracked her kills on her helmet and decided, as I do, there’s an angsty story there.)

Verity stopped and opened a small door to their left, pulling Mobius inside an empty room.

“I thought you said we were running late to another meeting?”

“There’s no meeting,” she said. “Just looked like you needed a break from the briefing. Take a minute.”

Mobius nodded and let his head fall against the door behind him, relishing the feeling of cool metal against his skin. It was quiet. There were no glaring lights, no beeping machines, no questions he didn’t know the answer to. Mobius took a few steady breaths until the headache pounding in his head subsided. He opened his eyes to find Verity watching him closely.

“Thanks,” Mobius said, pushing himself from the door and straightening his tie. “I feel better. Don’t tell Loki he was right. He warned me that a meeting on numerical code methodology for new timelines would put me to sleep.”

He turned to share a laugh with Verity but her face didn’t show any amusement. Instead, she looked concerned.

“I don’t think this was as simple as you falling asleep in a meeting,” she said carefully.

Mobius stilled. He had hoped his episodes weren’t noticeable but he should have known he wouldn’t be able to keep them from Verity. She was smart. It’s why he named her Deputy Director.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

Flashes of a park on a sunny day, a couple laughing, a timestick in his hand, a scream of terror, and a case file— variants eliminated— sped through Mobius’ mind before they were gone.

“No… I don’t remember what I was thinking about,” Mobius answered honestly. It was probably for the best he didn’t remember.

Verity frowned. “You shouldn’t repress your memories.”

Mobius slumped back against the door with a groan. She was right. While they still didn’t quite understand what the TVA had done to them, they were beginning to understand how they could heal their broken minds. Mobius knew the steps a TVA worker should take when they felt their memories resurface —he’d help write the protocol— but it was time consuming. For an organization that existed outside time, Mobius sure felt they were constantly running out of it. He didn’t have time to practice the techniques he’d taught others.

“There are too many cases that need my attention right now,” Mobius said.

“You need to offload some of those. I keep telling you-”

“I know, I know. I will. I just need to get through this Mandarin case first.”

“And then?” Verity pressed.

“And then I’ll take a few days off and sort through some of this… stuff.

Verity gave a disbelieving huff.

“I will.”

A heavy silence fell between the two agents and Mobius looked at the room around them. They were in one of the storage rooms that used to hold confiscated variants’ possessions. Without the stolen artifacts filling the shelves, the room seemed hollow. Purposeless. Mobius didn’t know what he was supposed to do with it in the reallocation.

“You’re not the only one who’s struggling,” Verity whispered. Her voice was soft, so soft that even in the silence of the abandoned room Mobius hardly heard her. At first, he wasn’t sure she intended to speak the words out loud.

“That’s how I knew you were having an episode,” she continued, twiddling with the cufflinks on her new suit in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. “I get these… headaches sometimes. Everything blurs together and I can’t remember where or when I am. It’s like I’m lost in my memories or, no, it’s like I’m trapped… trapped by him again… like we never escaped.”

Verity clenched her eyes shut with a sharp inhale of breath as if she were trapped inside a memory right now and Mobius reached out, taking her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. He knew how terrifying it was to be stuck in your memories, to feel like you were back under his control. They may have defeated He Who Remains but he was still here. He always would be. There was no amount of running they could do to escape him entirely. It made Mobius feel weak. He hated thinking Verity felt the same.

“Did you know I used to track kills on my helmet?” Verity asked.

Mobius nodded. He remembered. His memories might be splintered but he remembered enough. He remembered what they were a part of.

“I hated that thing,” she scowled. “I hated that number printed on the side. The paint was fresh when I started but sometimes I swore I could see the etchings of another number. The number of whoever I replaced when they were deemed ineffective. I wondered how long it would be before they replaced me.

“I thought if I marked my helmet as my own, if I made it look different, I would feel better. They wouldn’t paint over it so easy. I thought if I pruned more than anyone else, I could prove to the Timekeepers that I was better than everyone else in my unit. That I would feel useful, good, like what I was doing mattered but-” Verity’s voice cracked and Mobius squeezed her hand tighter. “I only ever felt more angry. So, I pruned more hoping that feeling would go away. It never did. It just kept getting worse and worse and worse until…” Verity trailed off.

“Until Sylvie,” Mobius finished.

“Until Sylvie,” Verity agreed, wiping her eyes and pulling back with a soft smile on her face. “Sylvie showed me everything I lost and suddenly it all made sense. I knew why I hated that number. I knew why I woke up furious at the world, looking to punish anyone who got in my way. It’s because that number wasn’t my name. Who they made me wasn’t me.

“They took everything from us and while we can’t travel back in time and change what was done, we can change our future. We have the opportunity to fight for something we believe in now. Sylvie and Loki gave us that.”

Warmth spread through Mobius as the mention of Loki’s name. He looked down at the ring on his left hand and smiled, running his finger along the band again. He would never understand how he’d gotten so lucky; he would do everything in his power to be the man Loki believed him to be.

“You gave us this opportunity too,” Verity added. “When we burnt down our old TVA, you built a new one and you didn’t dictate a new purpose but rather showed us what a new purpose could be. We chose to follow you. We choose this life. And…” Mobius felt Verity give his hands a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to carry it alone. We want to help you.”

Mobius carefully untangled his hands from Verity’s and took a step backwards. “I know.”

“Good,” Verity nodded with an air of finality. “At least let Loki help you. I don’t know what’s going on between you two but he’s started helping me with my cases.”

Mobius snorted. He could only imagine how that was going.

“It’s not funny, Mobius. He’s driving me nuts. You need to let him return to smothering you otherwise I might just send him to the Void without his TemPad.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Mobius chuckled at Verity’s hollow threat. “I’ll talk to him. Now, come on. I think we both deserve a little treat after all this. Let’s see what Processing confiscated today.”

Verity hesitated. “Mobius, I don’t care how many different variations you force me to try, I’m not going to like any timeline’s Josta.”

“What?? After all that talk about hope and change. One day I am going to find you a Josta you like. But no, I actually wasn’t talking about Josta this time. I heard Processing just got back with a case full of strawberry margarita mix. If that interests you.”

Verity’s face lit up in a brilliant smile. “Now, you’re speaking my language. Lead the way, Director. Josta aside, I’ll follow you anywhere.”

I’ll follow you anywhere.

Mobius’ steps faltered as he swallowed over the lump of fear in his throat at the words. Verity and the entire TVA would follow him. They were depending on him to show them the way, to fix things and Mobius couldn’t let them down. He wouldn’t.

Okay, I’ll write something fluffy and cute for next time. I promise I do know how to write sweet things 😅

[ashensgrotto]

Protective (Part 2 of 'Am I Feeling Love')

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x F!Reader

Word Count: 5,328

Part 1 Part 2 (You Are Here) Part 3a Part 3b

I had someone ask if I was going to do a continuation of ‘Am I Feeling Love?’ that was orinally written on my main blog @kiy-anna after I rewrote the story to fit the tags better. I was mulling over the idea and my poor sea-rotted brain decided “Screw it, Mari! Just write the damn thing!”

It took a bit to figure out how I wanted to execute the process, but I’m honestly more curious to see what you guys think as well. Also, don’t forget, I have a poll that ends in a few days that will help me decide what sort of fanfiction I will be posting going forward, so please vote! It ends on Wednesday!

Warnings: yandere behavior, beatings, manipulative behavior, and foul language

***

The world is cruel, the world is wicked

It’s I alone whom you can trust in this whole city, I am your only friend

How can I protect you, girl, unless you always stay in here

Away in here…

***

Azul tapped the desk he sat behind impatiently. 

For the past hour, he had been cooped up in the VIP Room of the Mostro Lounge dealing with those poor unfortunate souls that sought him out - the pathetic fools making deals with the octomer as his patience thinned by the minute. All he wanted at this point was to get out of his office and watch you.

You, the magicless guest of Octavinelle, had been living in the guest rooms of the dorm for a little over two months and were working within the Mostro Lounge to pay for said room - not that you needed to, it was merely a lie so Azul could keep tabs on you. The other students of the Octavinelle dorm did not completely understand his reasoning; some thought that he was merely being a nice housewarden to a poor soul with no one else to turn to, others that knew the housewarden too well thought that he was using you as a way to lure in unsuspecting victims for his contracts. 

Whatever their thinking was, only Azul and his vice-warden, Jade, along with the problem twin, Floyd, knew the real reason as to why you were kept close by. 

Soulmates were rare and finding that ‘other half’ is like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Many times, people - humans, fae, and merfolk alike - often settle for someone they are content and happy with, someone that isn’t their other half. Azul, at the time he first learned about soulmates, wanted nothing more in the world than to find them - to have that one person who would see him for himself and not the pathetic octo-twerp he had been called during his youth; thus, he began working on himself, his powers increasing as he lured his victims in and stole away their most treasured gifts - a beautiful singing voice, powerful magic… all of it. 

But even with the changes and his new found strength, Azul had no luck in finding the other part of his soul - that was until about two months ago when you first appeared in Twisted Wonderland.

Azul had been ecstatic the first few weeks after you had taken up residence in his dorm; consistently coming to check on you, making sure you weren’t too tired, asked if you had eaten… and sometimes just watching you from the darkness of the lounge as you shifted from table to table, taking orders and bringing food and drinks to the guests. Nearly two weeks into working at the lounge, the clientele number increased slightly - making Azul at first wonder what had happened. 

Turns out, some of the students who had frequented the lounge had made mention of you in passing and how you were nicer compared to the other staff members - hence the students came to the lounge to, not just get a glimpse of you, but to also shoot a chance at getting you as their waitress. Jade and Floyd, who were consistently in the lounge and operated as Azul’s eyes and ears - especially when it came to you - informed Azul of what was going on. Hence, Azul decided to restrict your hours to only working when he, Jade, or Floyd was. When you asked if you had done something wrong, Azul merely rested a hand on your shoulder, eyes shining with a possessive kindness, as he explained there were certain students who had been watching you - and he was only doing this for your protection. After all, it wasn’t like he could monitor you twenty-four-seven - he still had his grades to keep up and you weren’t a student, technically.

It worked momentarily, but then Azul was back to the drawing board again when Jade had mentioned Riddle Roseheart’s overblot in passing.

Turns out, you had asked Azul for a day off the same day Riddle went berserk. Azul had asked what for, but you merely said you wanted to explore the school grounds, specifically the rose gardens that surrounded Heartslabyul. He knew that you had ‘made friends’ with two freshmen from the dorm - Deuce Spade and Ace Trappola, both who had been collared by Riddle because of their bad behavior. If Azul could work his will, he would have locked you up in his own room and thrown away the key to prevent anyone from looking at you or speaking to you - but he couldn’t find the strength to do so. Even so, he had agreed, allowing you to go to the unbirthday party that was randomly held on different days during the year, with the promise that you would come back as soon as it was over and not a minute later.

Turns out, the ‘unbirthday party’ had been a lie since Deuce and Ace both had challenged Riddle for his position as headwarden and you wanted to go to support them in their fight. However, Ace made a valid point about the rules that had been pressed upon the students of Heartslabyul and practically turned the whole dorm against Riddle - which caused his temper to flare up and the overblot to happen. Luckily, you didn’t get hurt during the fight between Riddle, Deuce, Ace, Trey, Cater, Crowley, and the pyromaniac demon cat-weasel, Grim - but you had been the one to smack sense back into Riddle with a slap to the face when he had gone after you next. 

And it was because of that slap and knocking some sense back into the headwarden of Heartslabyul that those who heard about what happened began to flock to the Mostro Lounge in search of you once more.

Azul pressed his face to hands and rubbed at his skin hard enough to turn it red as he thought and thought. What was he going to do? He couldn’t let anyone else get close to you! You were his! His soulmate! You should be putting your entire focus on him and him alone! Was that too much to ask?!

“What’s with the face?” the unwelcomed voice of Leona reached Azul’s ears as the octomer sat up and righted himself.

“What’s it to you? Nevermind, I’m busy at the moment, Leona. If you wish to speak with me, you have to make an appointment…”

“I already did, did you forget?” The beastman prince strolled into the room and plopped on the couch, arms dangling behind the rest and feet landing on the table before him, “I need to make a contract with you for a potion.”

Azul shifted his glasses into place before reaching into his desk and pulling out the familiar golden paper he used for his contracts, his pen twirling in his fingers as it shifted into a fishbone and began to write, “What sort of potion?”

“An enhancement potion,” Leona answered, side eyeing the Octavinelle headwarden before explaining, “With the Spelldrive Tournament coming up in a few weeks, and with all of these little mishaps that have been going around the campus lately, it would be a shame if something were to befall a particular headwarden we know too well.”

Azul did not need Leona to explain any further nor to question who he was referring to.

It was no secret that the Diasomia dorm had taken first place in the Spelldrive Tournament for the past two years straight - practically overrunning Savanaclaw who usually held that spot. The dorm’s success had been due to the new headwarden - Malleus Draconia - who had taken up the position the year before Azul arrived at Night Raven. Malleus was a dragon fae and one of the top ranking mages in Twisted Wonderland - so powerful that he alone was the reason for Diasomia’s success, making ninety percent of the scores by the dorm’s team. He probably would be the only player if Crowley had allowed it. 

Many of the other headwardens were disgusted by the losses and damage that had been dealt to their teams over the course of the past two years - even Azul had been winded by Draconia once and had no desire to be the dragon’s dinner again; due to this, the headmage had made the offer to place Draconia in the hall of fame, which would prevent him from participating in any more of the Spelldrive matches this year and next year. At first, all of the headwardens were in agreement - but Leona argued that it wasn’t a fair fight, claiming that they were acting like a bunch of cubs. Azul had twitched at that remark, but agreed that the fight wasn’t fair - as much as he hated it, he agreed that Leona did have a point about allowing Draconia to continue; he wanted to prove that Draconia wasn’t invincible nor was he immune, he wanted to prove that anyone could beat the Diasomia headwarden - even if it was just another individual.

Azul adjusted himself in his chair, thoroughly invested in the deal now, “If we’re thinking the same thing, Leona, you must be willing to offer something in agreement of equal price. How about that speciality spell you’re so fond of? You barely use it.”

“‘King’s Roar’?” Leona arched a brow in his direction, “I may not use it, but it does come in handy from time to time. How about my nephew instead?”

Azul twisted his features in disgust, “No thank you. I’m not Rumplestiltskin, nor a babysitter.”

Leona laughed, his voice shaking the settee for a moment, “I was only joking, Faleena would never allow me to hear the end of it. Well, then… perhaps a little advice on that soulmate of yours?”

Azul nearly dropped his pen, surprise appearing on his normally calm face before his pale blue eyes narrowed at Leona menacingly, “What do you know about that?”

“It’s not a surprise given your behavior as of late,” Leona curled his fingers inward as his gaze shifted toward them as if to inspect his nails, “Besides, I heard from a few of my dorm members that frequent here that you’ve been keeping a pretty close eye on our magicless guest.”

‘The sneaky lionfish,’ Azul sneered at Leona, feeling his temperature rising as his gloved hands curled inward.

“Personally, I have nothing against wanting to keep (Y/N) close,” Savanaclaw’s headwarden continued, “She’s cute and pretty, nevermind that fact that she’s a hard worker and kind - sucks big time that she’s a female. She probably would’ve done well in Night Raven if she was a boy.”

“What’s the point you’re getting at?” Azul seethed.

“Merely that everywhere she goes, she is welcomed. (Y/N) has made a few friends without your knowledge by working the floors of the Mostro Lounge. Every time she shares a smile, a laugh, or anything - someone undoubtedly falls for her charm.”

Azul leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his chin in thought. Leona had a point - (Y/N) may have been his precious pearl, his soulmate, but she was also well liked by any and all who encountered her. Deuce, Ace, and Grim were just the stepping stones, Cater, Trey, and Riddle also fell in line with her presence and kind words - and even many of the Octavinelle dorm that worked alongside her in the lounge had gotten close with the magicless guest. However, the students of the Octavinelle dorm knew that Azul had marked (Y/N) as his - those that did not understand the process, such as the humans of Heartslabyul, would always be a threat to the octomer’s happiness; they might even go as far as to ask the headmage to allow (Y/N) to stay in their dorm!

Azul clenched his hand tighter at the thought, ‘No! She’s mine! I will not allow anyone to touch nor taint her perfection or soul.’

The headwarden of Octavinelle leaned forward, fingers crossing together as his elbows rested on the desk and his chin on his folded hands, “I’m willing to make a deal with you, Kingscholar.”

Leona arched a brow as Azul continued in a dark voice, “(Y/N) is very important to me, the other half of my soul - as you know. Her recent encounter with Riddle Rosehearts’ overblot has left me worried that she might attempt to leave Octavinelle. I know that I promised I would help her return home, but I need to keep her close by in order to do so. Soulmates are rare - whether they are humans, beastmen, faes, or mers - and they need to be kept close to each other. I do not want to put (Y/N) on a leash nor lock her up, but she is far too free for my liking. I will create the spell enhancement potion for you in exchange for your help with (Y/N)’s freedom.”

“What is it you have in mind?”

“... Merely a little scare that will show her how cruel and twisted this world can be.”

***

It was a few days later when the plan was set in motion.

You had been helping with the set up for the vendors surrounding the colosseum where the Spelldrive tournament was set to take place in a few days; setting up tents and tables, covering areas with cloths and helping move heavy objects. You wiped at your brow as a bit of sweat dribbled down before a cloth was pressed to your face.

“You’re working too hard,” the familiar voice of your employer pulled your attention to him, a smile appearing on your face as Azul’s lips quirked into a grin.

He was dressed in the headwarden’s dorm uniform - a black tuxedo with a white dress shirt and purple tie and the dorm’s scarf hanging loosely around his neck, a pale gray overcoat that hung on his shoulders, and a black fedora perched on his head. He was leaning against the silver tipped cane with the large octopus on the handle - the mage stone held securely between its silver tentacles. It was strange to see for someone who was working on setting things up, but Azul was in charge of overseeing everything and making sure everything was where it needed to be and making changes as needed, using maps and planograms as reference points. 

“Well, I always believed in the phrase ‘working hard or hardly working,’” you answer, taking the offered handkerchief and wiping away the sweat and grime from your features.

“Quite an interesting phrase,” Azul nodded, resting his hands on his hips, “Care to enlighten me on the meaning?”

You shrug, “I’m not really sure, honestly. People in my world use it for small talk or to point out a person’s laziness. For example, if someone wasn’t doing anything, someone might ask ‘working hard or hardly working?’”

Azul hummed in thought, “I suppose it is a good phrase to use - maybe it might actually get Floyd to do something for a change… however, as I’m sure you know, that eel will whatever whenever he wants to, regardless of what I tell him.”

I giggle, nodding in agreement, “Yes, and half the time he dumps his work on his twin - poor Jade.”

“Jade’s used to it,” Azul waved his hand dismissively, “but speaking of ‘dumping things onto others,’ I hate to ask this of you, but I do need you to do something for me.”

“Hmm? What is it, Azul?”

“I have an order waiting to be picked up at the school store. You’re familiar with Mr. S’s mystery shop, yes?”

You nod with a smile, “Yep, I’ve been there a few times.”

“Good, I need to go there and get the parcel. It has a few items that we’ll need for the Lounge and for the tournament. I would get it myself, but I have to keep things going here and Jade and Floyd are working on their own projects for the tournament. Would you be willing to go pick it up for me?”

“Why not have it delivered to the dorm?”

“It’s easier to travel to the store instead of going to the dorm and back. I had intended on getting it earlier, but it completely slipped my mind until now.”

You frowned a bit as something crawled up your back and tingled behind your head, a feeling that something didn’t sit right with the whole situation. However, Azul had slipped to your side as his arm came around your shoulders and pulled you close enough for you to smell the expensive cologne he always wore.

“Please, (Y/N), it’s very important that you do this for me. I’ll reward you, too, for your efforts - a drink of your choice from Mr. S’s shop or from the Mostro Lounge, on the house. Besides, you’ve been working so hard as of late that you need a little bit of a break. Take this as an opportunity to stretch your legs and cool down a bit.”

A refreshing beverage was starting to sound good. You had been working in the sun for a while like everyone else that was part of the setting up, never mind that your bottle of water had been drained a while ago and you had yet the opportunity to refill it. Perhaps just going to get the parcel for Azul as well as a small drink wouldn’t be so bad.

“Ok, do you mind if I finish up here?”

“Of course,” Azul pulled away before resting a hand on your head and messing your hair, “but as soon as you finish, please go and get the package. I need it as soon as possible.”

You nodded in understanding before turning back to your tasks as Azul walked away.

***

The parcel wasn’t big, thankfully, but it was awkward - an odd shape that looked spherical, but was flat with pointed edges. 

‘I wonder what’s on here?’ you shake the package gently as you walk away from Sam’s shop, heading back toward the colosseum. You discard the thought, tucking it under your arm and taking your time, enjoying the shade the trees provided and the gentle cool breeze of autumn ruffling the changing leaves of the school campus and pulling some off and away from their homes. The colors reminded you of home - how the trees in the parks would shift from greens to yellows, reds, and oranges before fading into dark browns. It was strange to see all the trees do the same thing here - it made you wonder if Twisted Wonderland celebrated holidays like your world did.

You were so busy admiring the colors and deep in thought that you didn’t see where you were going and ran into the back of a very large student.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you smile apologetically, “I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“Well, then, watch it,” the student growled.

“Hey man, look what she did to your jacket,” another student pointed at the sleeve of his uniform’s coat.

The charcoal gray coat that all of the students were required to wear was typically a heavy cotton and ridiculously hard to damage - however, low and behold, one of the pointed ends of Azul’s mystery order had put a decently sized tear in the student’s coat. The tear revealed the golden yellow of the student’s vest, traveling from his mid back to just the top of his waist. You covered your mouth in shock as the student took his jacket off and examined the tear, rage budding on his features.

“You stupid - look what you did!”

“I’m sorry! It was an accident -” you try to explain.

“Do you know how much this cost?” the student shook the coat at you, “Now I have to buy a whole new one!”

“Just make her pay for it,” another student spoke up, crossing his arms over his chest.

“P-Pay?”

“You damaged it, didn’t you? So, you’re the one who's going to buy me a new replacement.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money…” you bit your lip as you felt your heart rate jump up, clutching Azul’s package close to you, “I-If you give me a moment, I’ll go talk to my employer and see-”

“Oh, no way,” the student grabbed the front of your borrowed button down shirt, “You’re going to pay for the jacket one way or another.”

Something within you snapped, you had tried to be reasonable with these three and had apologized for the trouble; however, it seemed now that you could only run and hope that you got to Azul before these guys did something to you. Your face hardened as you gave the student holding you a kick to the groin with your knee, the student releasing you as he groaned in pain at the sudden attack. Once you were out of his clutches, you took off in the opposite direction as the three students shouted at you and chased after.

You clutched the package close to your chest as you bolted into the school and down a corridor, staying close to the windows, hoping for someone to see you as you shouted out for help. Your cries echoed off the high ceiling, alerting a few students and staff members - but it seemed everyone elected to ignore your screams for help as the three pursuers gradually came closer and closer. 

You threw yourself around a corner which led out into the courtyard to throw them off.

Unfortunately, an uneven stone caught on your shoe, causing you to stumble forward and land on the ground, Azul’s package flying from your hands and landing with a sickening crack against the side of the wishing well. You tried to stand to move, but something heavy came down on your ankle, a loud snapping sound and a cry of agony echoing across the lawn. 

“You stupid bitch! All you had to do was pay up,” the student’s voice from earlier came in your ear as a large fist grabbed a handful of your (h/c) hair, pulling your head up to look into his rage filled eyes, “but nooo, you just had to kick me then run and tried getting help.”

“I think punishment is in order - after all, what can someone without magic and a broken ankle do now?”

Something heavy collided with your face as tears welled up from the punch, the pain coming again from the opposite side. Your hair was released before you felt a heavy boot collide with your stomach as you were kicked across the lawn like a football, landing a few feet away from the wishing well. You tried to sit up with a groan, your arm coming around to clutch your side as you spat out blood. Your entire body was shaking and was sore - you were beginning to wonder if they had hit any vital organs. A large hand came forward and grabbed at your hair again, pulling you up as you cried out.

“Piece of fuckin’ shit, you don’t know when to give up, do you?”

You bit your lip, fighting to hold onto consciousness and the tears that were slowly slipping from your eyes. You were scared and were still wishing beyond a doubt that someone would find you and stop these three from beating you up more. However, the wish was short lived when you were dropped to the ground, causing you to wince as more pain came from your side. 

“Time to say good-bye,” your eyes widened as you pulled your arms up toward your face, the student rearing his foot back with his aim clear in his dangerous eyes.

“Care to explain yourselves?” a familiar voice asked, stopping the students as their eyes widened in fear.

You peered out between your fingertips as the familiar figure of Azul came forward, his dorm overcoat fluttering behind him in the breeze as his walking cane tapped against the dirt. His face looked difficult to read as he came forward, eyes sharp and filled with rage.

“H-Headwarden Azul,” the student put his foot down and backed away from you, “W-We thought you were over by the colosseum.”

“I was - I was looking for my errand runner,” Azul’s gaze shifted between you and the three students before repeating, “Care to explain yourselves?”

“I-It’s nothing, honestly,” one of the students visibly shuddered.

“Y-yeah, just a m-misunderstanding is all!” the third student smiled wobbly.

“A misunderstanding, hm?” Azul cocked a brow, eyeing the students, before lifting his walking stick and tapping the head against his gloved palm like a baseball player would, “I will only ask one last time. What. Did. You. Do.”

“S-she destroyed my jacket!” the first student tried to explain, “She wouldn’t pay up for a replacement so-”

“So you decided to attack a defenseless angelfish who is under my protection?” Azul snickered, “How very foolish and pathetic…”

He snapped his fingers as Jade and Floyd appeared before the students. Azul came over and lifted you into his arms, “I’m taking her to the infirmary to get patched up - Jade, Floyd, have some fun.”

You ducked your head close to Azul’s chest, a headache slowly forming as he carried you away. You swallowed and began to open your mouth to speak, but Azul hushed you.

“Rest, (Y/N). You’re safe - there is nothing to be said nor to say. Just relax - I won’t let anything harm you.”

***

You must have fallen asleep because when you opened your eyes, you were in your room back in Octavinelle’s dorms. Azul was there, resting in a chair beside your bed with his arms folded over his chest and eyes closed. You shifted slightly, which caused the octomer to open his eyes - blinking rapidly before they fell on you as a smile crossed his face.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, standing and coming to sit beside you.

“Sore, tired,” you answered.

“That is typical after a fight,” Azul nodded, handing you a glass of water that had been perched on your bedside table, helping you to drink the cool liquid.

You smiled as he returned the glass to its spot before your face fell, “I’m so so sorry, Azul.”

“Whatever for, (Y/N)? You did nothing wrong.”

“Your package - you entrusted me to get it, but it probably got broken after that fight…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Azul’s fingertips curled under your chin, lifting it up to force you to look at him, “I’m not going to be concerned about a package that was damaged when you - someone I’ve been tasked to keep an eye on - was hurt severely. You’re very lucky. But, I do need to ask, what in the world happened? What did you do?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. I… I accidentally ran into him because I was taking my time and admiring the changing colors of autumn, not paying attention to where I was going. When I ran into him, one of the parcel’s sharp points must’ve caught onto his coat and when I pulled away, it tore it.”

“NRC’s required suits are relatively expensive, so I can see why he was upset,” Azul nodded thoughtfully, “However, why did he attack you? You could’ve come to me and explained you needed money for a replacement jacket - ”

“I tried telling him that, but he wouldn’t listen and grabbed me. I kicked him so I could get away and was intending on going straight to you, but he…” you didn’t want to say anymore, the memory of what happened only a few hours ago was still painful in your mind.

Sensing your distress, Azul cooed to you, pulling you into his arms as his head landed on top of your head, hands running up and down your spine gently. You sniffled into his suit coat, hand coming up and gripping the back of his jacket, feeling the familiar warmth and comfort that was  Azul Ashengrotto.

“Shh… it’s alright, (Y/N)... you’re safe now,” Azul murmured, his voice soft and soothing in your ear, “I know, I know… I can only imagine how afraid you were…”

You nod as you sniffle more.

“It’s alright, though… I’m right here beside you. Those monsters can never touch you again… but you have to promise me something.”

You look up at him as his eyes shine with pain and… something else.

“This world is cruel and wicked, (Y/N),” Azul reached up, resting a gloved hand against your cheek and wiping away the tears that gathered in your eyes, “It’s only I you can trust in this place - Jade and Floyd as well - your only friends. We can’t protect you if you are away from our sight, so you must stay here in Octavinelle - where we can always be within an arm’s reach.”

“B-But, what about the others? Deuce? Ace? Grim? Surely they…”

“(Y/N)... did they come to help you during your darkest hour? Who was there when you were getting beaten by those mongrels?” Azul asked, eyes narrowing slightly, “I did not see Deuce or Ace. Nor did I see Grim or Trey… the twins did not see any of them nor Riddle or Cater either. Who came for you?”

“...You did.”

“Exactly,” Azul nodded, “I will always be there for you. Jade will always be there. Floyd, as strange as it may seem, will also always be there.”

You nod slowly, tucking yourself against his chest as you realize the dark truth. They had abandoned you, left you to fend for yourself while you were getting hurt - it was Azul that came and found you and it was Jade and Floyd that put the trio in their place. The three of them were the only ones who cared about it - showing you love and support through these last two months in this strange, dark, twisted world. Tears fell faster as you sniffled under the calming strokes of Azul’s fingertips.

If you had happened to look up at that point, you would have seen the octomer grinning devilishly down at you, his eyes of pale blue filled with possessive love and adoration. 

***

Azul ventured out later after you had fallen asleep with the twins in tow. The trio met with Leona in the lounge of Savanaclaw’s dorm, the octomer pulling out a vial of strange green liquid.

“As promised,” the headwarden of Octavinelle presented the vial to Leona, “for services well rendered.”

“This is it?” Leona snatched the vial, inspecting it closely, “I thought there’d be more.”

“Too much and the power will cause the user to overblot,” Jade explained, “We don’t want a repeat incident.”

Leona hummed in agreement, looking back toward the trio, “Speaking of which, what do you intend on doing since you hurt three of my best players with that little incident?”

“If anything, it’s compensation for us after what you did to three of our best players,” Azul let out a shrug, “but remember, Leona - there’s a much bigger fish to fry in the ocean that has nothing to do with me or the twins nor anyone in Octavinelle.”

Leona grumbled, turning his head, “Ruggie!”

The hyena appeared out of nowhere, landing next to Leona with a soft thump, “You called?”

“Take this,” Leona handed the vial to him, “On the day of the Tournament, you know what to do.”

Ruggie snickered with a nod.

“Well, we’ll be going,” Azul smiled, turning away, “pleasure doing business with you, Kingscholar.”

“And I hope that you live a long life with that soulmate of yours.”

“Oh, after that little incident - I doubt she’ll be going anywhere… at least for a while.” 

***

You do not comprehend (You are my one defender)

Why invite their calumny and consternation, stay in here

Be faithful to me, grateful to me

Do as I say, obey

And stay in here…

[cosmicallylyss]

Blue Lock Baseball AU

Hello everyone I am a baseball/softball enjoyer and would like to share my thoughts about what positions I think the Blue Lock boys would play! This will be multipart as ideas will come to me sporadically, with analysis under the cut.

Characters included in this part are: Egoist 4, Raichi, Barou, Aryu, & Aiku

Isagi Yoichi:

Left fielder. Now you might be saying "lyss why are you putting the protagonist in the outfield??" and to that I say 1) this is baseball not soccer 2) if you don't think this position is important you don't know the sport. If a ball is headed for the outfield it's most likely headed somewhere between LF/CF and those players will need good communication in order to coordinate who's going for what. Despite Isagi being a beast on the field to his rivals, we know he can do teamwork exceptionally well. Left field also requires great knowledge of the game, and his meta-vision being able to predict what the runners will do will be able to help him by making the perfect throws to the infield for a given situation. He's got a great view of the entire field and although he probably won't be making any outs aside from outfield catches (which he can make a lot of!!!) he is indispensable when it comes to holding off the runners from advancing.

Bachira Meguru:

I want to put him at second base. The middle infield has him bouncing around a lot, as he'll have to cover both second and first base depending on which way the ball is hit, and I am solid in my belief that Bachira can handle that. As a technical player, I really like putting him in this position as I imagine him getting a lot of contact with the ball and being a playmaker for the team. Tagging runners, getting a cut from the outfield, and just generally getting a read of the field by being in the middle of it has me solid that he'll be able to make great plays from this position. I imagine that Bachira's monster/instinct has him making a lot of double plays. He'll be able to get someone out at second and then make a great, yet unexpected throw to first or home for another out.

Chigiri Hyoma:

He's so centerfielder to me. With how well he's performing in Manshine right now it makes sense to me to give him a sort of "leadership role" in the outfield. He'd definitely be the player in the outfield who has to move around the most and I think his speed would be best utilized here. Whether its for making amazing running/diving catches or running in to pick up a ground ball that manages to slip past second and short, I think putting Chigiri in centerfield gives him the opportunity to use a lot of his potential. Of course pinch runner Chigiri would be fun to see as well, maybe he's not in the batting lineup but when the pitcher or catcher gets on base he subs in for them to run the bases. Honestly thinking about CF Chigiri was what got me wanting to write this whole thing, he means so so much to me.

Kunigami Rensuke:

Third baseman. Yes I'm foaming at the mouth about this thought. Sue me. Not only does Kunigami's strength make him a great person to put here because of his ability to make great throws to both first and home, I think it's best to have your more physically dominant players toward the last bases. As the opponent progresses along the bases, it becomes more and more vital to get them out before they can make it home (duh). I think Kunigami, especially post-wildcard would be really aggressive on the base (occasionally to his detriment), enjoying tagging out players rather than going with an easier route of just stepping on the bag. He's probably also a clean-up hitter or at least close to the top of the lineup. I want to imagine he's also a lefty batter, maybe he's a slap hitter and it annoys everyone else. But yeah I really want to see him dominating third base and the whole foul line honestly.

Raichi Jingo:

He would be such a great shortstop okay just listen to me. The nature of middle infield is running around a lot (covering third, covering second, backing up second) and although it's not a lot of distance to cover, you're alternating between these positions a lot and Raichi definitely has the stamina to keep up with the demands of middle infield. We've seen it. I also think his tenacity is great for making him an awesome shortstop. He'll fully throw himself in front of a line drive to catch it (this works most of the time), ignoring the sting in his hand. I also imagine if a runner is about to steal third and Raichi is in possession of the ball, he'll charge at the runner to fully scare them back into staying at second before getting the ball back to the pitcher.

Barou Shouei:

The most egotistical pitcher you will ever meet dear god. His whole king shtick with the whole field revolving around his playstyle??? You literally can not put him in any other position. He's a menace on the field, trash talk both to his team and his opponent, but his money is where his mouth is. His great physicality would lend itself to fast, accurate pitches, but I imagine pre-development his short temper would lead to a lot of outbursts that affect his accuracy. He will get angry every time he doesn't pitch a no-hitter. Every time he's reminded that he has a whole team behind him to back him up if the batters hit, he'll bark that it's just him versus the batters and he will strike them out. Barou is the guy you don't wanna hit against, because he's good and he's annoying about it.

Aryu Jyubei:

This is a first baseman. Hear me out. First base gets quite a bit of action so Aryu's got the opportunity to be flashy and get a lot of notice, but that's like 10% of why I'm putting him here. Functionally, we see him dominate in air battles and with his long limbs it makes the most sense to put him on such a pivotal base. He's gonna get thrown to a lot, and it's undeniable that some shitty throws will be sent his way. His height/limbs will allow him to still catch virtually any ball sent his way even if it's far from the bag/overthrown while still keeping a foot on the bag to hopefully get an out. He's got the bag on lockdown but also a good few-foot radius around it.

Aiku Oliver:

Alright everybody act surprised when I say catcher. I know it's the obvious choice but that's because it makes so much sense. Obviously whenever your team isn't at bat you're on defense, but catcher is definitely the most defensive position one can think of, and that's where Aiku excels. I think his strength will be an asset behind the plate, as it'll be easy for him to throw to any base necessary, and he could also be a pretty formidable player to run toward for any opponent trying to steal home. I think his leadership that shines as captain of the U-20 team would also allow him to sync nicely with whatever pitcher he's teamed up with, and I also think his game sense will allow him to make quick decisions on where to throw the ball if he doesn't try to throw out someone stealing and just send the ball back to the pitcher.

[you-remind-me-of-the-babe]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIPs

Thank you for tagging me @ic3-que3n @theearlgreymage @wellbelesbian @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @youarenevertooold @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @cutestkilla @aristocratic-otter @monbons @emeryhall @valeffelees (wow everyone is out here playing huh?)

🦈Tell us the name of your / one of your WIP(s)

As of right now, I’m going with Back and Back and Back but that may change.

🍄Decscribe your wip / one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Past flashbacks in which Baz grows up being visited by an older Simon in the woods outside his house in Hampshire + current 7th year Simon suddenly finds himself traveling back in time to visit young Baz = both Simon and Baz trying to figure out what’s happening in the present, resulting in them falling in love in a mesh of past and present

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Soulmates, time travel, canon divergent, Watford-era, angst with a happy ending, kid!Baz, lightly inspired by Time Traveler’s Wife.

🧭An alternative title to your / one of your WIP(s)?

I mentioned this last week, but I quite like Start at the End, even though I don’t think it technically is accurate or describes the fic.

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

Idk, this one will be quite long, but everything else in my WIP folder are just attempts at starting a premise I liked, but none of them have gotten much traction, so probably this one? Hopefully?

💾What is your document of your wip / a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Time Travel AU

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

He whistles, looking around and finally taking the time to fully appreciate the tree house.

“Did you make this?”

“With help,” I explain. “Some from Father. Mostly from you.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise. That’s one thing I’ve yet to figure out, why he forgets. Sometimes, he remembers our past visits with more detail than I do. As if they’d just happened the day before instead of years ago. Other times, he can’t remember something as big as building a treehouse with me. He reminds me of my grandmother, when her dementia had its grips on her. She’d recall something from her childhood so clearly, and the next minute, she’d forget my name.

Father didn’t want me to call attention to it in front of her. He said it would only make her more confused. So I don’t mention it to him, either. We just sort of…dance around it, without mentioning it outright. (He’d fit right in with my family, honestly.) I just clarify things and then we move on.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

I was thinking about having the Humdrum be a time traveling younger Simon, or something like that, in addition to current Simon being a time traveler. Like, they discover there’s another version of him traveling, but I thought that would be too confusing. So instead, he’s just the regular ol’ Humdrum.

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I have a lil Drabble in my head about Baz being sad while his wedding ring is getting fixed by the jewelers for a week so Simon has to cheer him up. (It me. Rubbing my empty ring finger all week while it’s getting fixed and I hate it not being there.)

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

Actively? I think just this one right now. There are about 4 other half starts from earlier this year when I was just throwing spaghetti noodles at the wall to see what stuck. Some of them I may come back to if I get a burst of inspiration or something.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

(One of) the big reveals because the scene carries a lot of emotional weight, and I want to do it right.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

And kudos to anyone who read this far!

Anyone else want to play? @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @blackberrysummerblog @run-for-chamo-miles @mooncello @angelsfalling16 @artsyunderstudy and anyone else interested! 💜

[cellsshapedlikestars]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @hilarychuff

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

honestly, I'm sometimes embarrassed by how much I've written in the 3 1/2 years since I started posting. Currently 66

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,350,298. yikes.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

at this point, Jonsa. we do not talk about The Prior Fandom

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

a fairytale ending (by a WIDE margin)

the mating game

take me out

moth's wings

ever fallen in love (on national TV)

(shocker, it's all my romcoms lmao. also, let's not talk about how the top 4 are all fake dating fics. I can't help myself)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to. I used to do it on all fics, but as discussed above, I'm a wordy bitch and at points responding to all comments on, for example, one shot event fics that I would post back-to-back got overwhelming. So I allowed myself to stop responding to comments on one shots. Recently I had quite the mental health dip and didn't respond to any for a while, but I think I'm back.

Part of the reason I like fandom is the sense of community. I started responding to comments on my first fic because I hadn't resurrected my tumblr from the grave yet, so it was the only way to interact with the fandom. Then I continued to because I appreciated the comments, even if they were simple and I had nothing else to say except thank you. I still try to on chaptered fics because, let's face it, without comments and without community, I wouldn't be posting my stories.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably my WWI one-shot

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I try to write at least *hopeful* endings for all my fics. I don't know if I can quantify "happiest", because I think that's different for everyone.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

of course. I feel like it's a rite of passage on ao3 to get some shitty hate comments

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

*through clenched teeth* I sure do

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I'm not really a fan of crossovers tbh

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I'm aware of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

not that I'm aware of

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope! I don't think I could tbh. I'm sort of a control freak and I even have problems letting people pre-read things, I have no idea why. I think the only people I've let pre-read anything are @hilarychuff (who is my brainstorm buddy) and @greenhikingboots (who is the reason the last chapter of the ghost inside made any coherent sense)

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

I mean, Jonsa. I honestly don't ship that often

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

sigh. white knuckles.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I'm very fast at it lmao. Like, seriously. I type very fast. I'm also somehow really good at starting a fic off with only an inciting incident, no other real plans, and somehow coming up with a full plot/ending that I'm satisfied with, while posting it as I develop the story

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

outlines. smut.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I can barely handle English my guy

19. First fandom you wrote for?

hmmm that depends on what the criteria is. First fandom I wrote for was Sailor Moon, I just never posted it anywhere. Harry Potter was technically the first fandom I posted for, but it was one chapter and I never continued it and I genuinely can't even remember what it was called, all I remember is Harry melted Voldemort with a bucket of soapy water like in the Enchanted Forest Chronicles.

The first fandom I was actually active in and wrote more than just a chapter was... A secret. I'm actually a little embarrassed about it and my fics are still floating around out there and some of them make me cringe sooooo hard. I don't think I've ever admitted to it here on tumblr dot com and I don't think I will now

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

help me out of the shape I'm in

I'm always so anxious about tagging people and leaving people out and making them feel bad, but I'll try to do it anyway. @greenhikingboots @sibyldisobedience @thewolvescalledmehome @esther-dot @periwinkle39 @eruherdiriel and anyone else who wants to do this! (also, no pressure to anyone I did tag lol)

[ananke-xiii]

I've finally organized (the majority of) my posts with the proper tags! I'm so proud of myself, I genuinely thought I was never gonna do it but hey, miracles do happen after all!

It took me almost one year but now I've fully realized the importance of tags, this is what I call progress...

It was actually quite a helpful thing to do because I've identified what my major themes are and well, turns out I do write about a lot of stuff, don't I?

I'm sad to report that not all tags work for all posts, I don't know why this is happening and, honestly, I don't care right now. Things will sort themselves out... somehow... magically... in the future.... lol.

I like some of the names I've chosen, some others are too prosaic, what can I say? Inspiration comes and goes.

#myths we live by: general observations and/or criticism about the underlying myths that are prominent/popular in the stories I consume and that therefore play a part in my understanding of the world.

#movies in spn: it's not shocking news to anyone but once I've personally realized the depth to which movies in SPN are not just used as references but as foundational structures to write episodes on it was over for me.

#destiel and betrayal: dean and cas relationship as a marriage of (con)sorts based on betrayal.

#on resurrection: I see resurrections as rebellions against Time, a way to keep the past forever alive, which is the ultimate undead that must rise to be faced etc. And I use Supernatural to explore my obsession, thank you very much.

#billie won theory: I think Billie won because the weight of the role of Death in the narrative was eventually re-established. On one hand, it's a postive thing because Death is too much of a powerful symbol to be discarded the way it was in S10, it was bound to re-emerge. On the other, the way it was re-framed is quite... bad because it gives a problematic and conservative flavor to the finale where Death is glorified and romanticized. After all, let's all go back to the jolly old times that never were jolly, instead they're just old, and be content that there will be happiness in the after-life, yeah! No thank yewwwwww.

#phd in spn s12: I have a fascination with s12 which I can't really explain to be honest. I don't even like the BMOL storyline! But I love Mary and I LOOOOVE. LOOOOOOOOOOVE Kelly Kline so, you know. Maybe that's it.

#time travels in spn: I have a lot to say about time travels but I never manage to write down what I want the way I want so there's not so much in here for now. But maybe... somehow... magically... in the future... I'll be able to write coherently so that people can actually understand me etc.

#spn angels: I have. A.LOT.to say about them. I love them, they're the ultimate dysfunctional family. Apart from Cas, Metatron is my fave, be warned.

#spn s9 is complicated: well, nothing more to add. It is what it is. BUT, ALSO. S9 is kinda good, like... the episodes are, like, not bad at all. And the plot more or less makes sense which is a huge compliment for Supernatural.

#super-m/Others: mothers in SPN are my favorite thing. I mean, I know this is supposed to be THEE show about absent fathers but I honestly don't care, SPN mothers are wild and most of them are also dead. Lot to think about.

#spn lines: some lines that I like or that I want to analyze.

#jack the puer: I have this theory, you know, and it's about Jack and how he perfectly fits the Junghian archetype of the "Puer Aeternus" and one day I'll write more about it, hence the tag. It's like a promise to myself.

#b/w spn: this is about how SPN is a show about dichotomies and how sometimes the lines between polarities get blurred and some other times (too many times) are reinforced much to my chagrin.

Okay, soooooo, finally.... Order in my land of Chaos! Hope you enjoy it! <3

[tavyliasin]

Pfp and blog header image by Juiciebox_art also here: @juicieboxart

Welcome to Tavylia Sin's Tumblr

This is your guide to my content and links to all of my most relevant posts and content! Please peruse at your leisure~

I'm going to keep updated links here to my posts, sorted by topic, which honestly it's 50% just for me so I stop forgetting what I've done! Please be aware that most of my content is unsuitable for minors, but I will be marking posts as SFW or NSFW as well as even those 18+ may prefer to filter content which is completely valid, so I'd like to give you that choice. Please use the titles to skim down to what you're looking for! The list in order of appearance: - Abdirak Cameo for Chronic Pain Pals - Essays and Fandom Discussions - Community Posts and Events - AO3 FanFic Directory and About Me - Character Comfort Shorts - Drabbles and Short Fics on Tumblr - Full Chapter FanFic on Tumblr - Ask Box Responses - Other Posts/Misc Side Blogs If you'd prefer reblogs of the works grouped into types: @atavsguide has all of the ongoing longfic ATG, A Tav's Guide. @tavyliaonlyfics is home to all other fanfic and one shots. @tavyliasinessays hosts the essays and thought pieces. @sins-of-the-dragon will house any Dragon Age posts I make (less common but I love DA too) @lostplotbunniesbg3 is a place to send all of your loose fic ideas to find new homes, or to find new ideas to write your own fics.

The Declan/Abdirak Cameo for Everyone Who Suffers Chronic Pain (SFW)

This one was crowd funded by a few Abdirak fans, who tend to have a deeper understanding of pain. Please feel free to share this post to anyone who might need to hear it.

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Essays and Discussions Around Characters and Fandom

These are all deeper examinations on characters, story, fandom, and the ways we connect to those characters~

The Abdirak Essay - Fandom, Pain, and Loviatar's Love (Some Mild NSFW References)

A discussion around how Abdirak helps us to relate to pain, chronic pain, and each other, with a vague discussion around why pain can be pleasurable in kink.

Raphael - Archduke of Asexuals (Mostly SFW)

A look at how Raphael is actually a potential representative of Asexuality in the game, and how those under the Asexual umbrella relate to him - and each other - through this representation.

Villain-Fucker Angst Hours aka The Appeal of Raphael and Villains in General (Some NSFW References)

A general examination of the appeal of villains as romance options, with a focus on Raphael in particular.

The Highs and Lows of Being A Fandom Creative (SFW)

How our moods and confidence levels follow the same cycle, from starting a new work, to posting it, to feedback, and how to deal with those low points when a lack of feedback feels too painful to bear. Not BG3 exclusive, covers all kinds of creative things in any fandom.

Body Positivity and Representation in BG3 and Fandom (SFW)

A discussion - very much open to other experiences and backgrounds - around the importance of representation and the positivity that can be found in fan creations and in the game itself.

Tagging and Censoring FanWorks (NSFW)

A look at what kinds of content needs tagging and why we tag content in the first place. Also a brief discussion on censoring topics.

Curating Fandom Experience Online (Mostly SFW)

An overview of the online spaces we have access to for fandom, and how we can best look out for ourselves and each other when using them.

Beta Reading Guide for Readers and Writers (SFW)

A guide for new beta readers and writers to seek and give useful feedback in order to make fic writing the best it can be.

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Community Posts and Events

This is where you'll find events that I am hosting, or have hosted in the past.

Discord Server I own and run the creative focused fandom server: The House of Hopeful Sinners - see link post for details

Advice on setting up a Discord Server for Fandom (Based on HOHS layout and tools)

Redbubble Shop - silly items for silly people, with only 2-5% markup to keep the prices lower for you~

Active No Active Events

Past Events and Collections

April Foolishness - Comedy Smut Event (NSFW) Baldur's Date Collection NSFW (NSFW) Baldur's Date Collection SFW (SFW) TaValentine's Day Collection (NSFW) GaleCord - Gale-ntines Collection (NSFW)

GaleCord Secret Santa Collection (NFSW)

Baldur's Date Open Creative Challenge! Artists, Writers, Creators of All Kinds! (18+ Only) (But there is an SFW side of the event)

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AO3 FanFic Directory & About The Author

This has a whole lot about me, what I do, and what I aim to write, but if you'd just like the Works Directory then these are the links you need Each directory contains links to the individual works on AO3 as well as a brief summary of the piece and word count.

Carrd - Main Page and Contacts (General links and info) Carrd - Ongoing Series Directory (ATG and Scent of Cinnamon) Carrd - One Shot Directory (Standalone Stories)

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Character Comfort Shorts

Short fanfiction pieces designed to feel comforting to a reader in some way or another. Some are specific to pains (eg, Migraine) but others are more general for any suffering (physical or psychological). They're generally written in 2nd person (you/your pronouns) and are gender neutral.

Abdirak - Migraine Comfort Yurgir - Migraine Comfort Tav - General Comfort, with Audio Multi-Character Comfort Drabbles (Astarion, Halsin, Abdirak, Raphael, Haarlep, bonus from Tavylia)

Please feel free to make requests for these in my ask box, and I will add more as I write more too.

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Drabbles and Short Fics on Tumblr

A selection of short fanfic pieces, each of these is the full piece on Tumblr.

Raphael and/or Haarlep Brat Raphael and Haarlep (NSFW) Haarlep x Non-Gendered Reader/Writer (Mild NSFW) Haarlep x f!Tav x Brat Raphael (NSFW) "Raphael is Bad in Bed" Raphael x f!Tav (NSFW) Haarlep x Raphael x f!Tav (NSFW) Haarlep x Non-Gendered Writer 2 (2nd Person, mild NSFW) Haarlep Won't Let Lia Sleep (SFW, mostly.) Raphael is a Party Favour (NSFW) Raphael and Haarlep on Fiendmas Eve (NSFW) Raphael and Haarlep Drabbles (NSFW) Haarlep x m!OC Soft Drabble (Mild NSFW) Dom and Sub Raphael (NSFW) Falling for You - Soft Raphael/Haarlep (Mild NSFW) Forbidden Papers - Raphael/Haarlep (Mild NSFW) Devil Gets His Due - DomBottom Raphael/m!Tav (NSFW) Haarlep Angst Short - The Price Of You (Mild NSFW) Raph/Haarl Angst Short - All That We Hide (NSFW) Haarlep x GN Tav - Speak of the Devil... (NSFW)

Gale Dom!Gale x f!Tav (NSFW) Dom Professor Gale x AFAB Reader (2nd Person, NSFW) Dom!Gale x Non-Gendered Reader (Mild NSFW) Dom!Gale x Non-Gendered Reader 2 (Mild NSFW) Switch!Professor Gale x Non-Gendered Assistant (NSFW) God!Gale Angst (Mostly SFW)

Halsin Halsin x Reader (2nd Person Short, Not Gendered, SFW) Dom!Halsin x f!Tav (NSFW) Halsin x GN Reader - Flu Comfort (SFW)

Others Volo x Tav (Cursed, NSFW, Non-Gendered Tav) Shadowheart x AFAB NonBinary Tav (NSFW) Daggers and Gods, Shadowheart x Lae'zel (mild NSFW) Drabble Selection Assorted Characters (NSFW) Durgetash Trans Gortash x NonBinary Durge (NSFW) Gortash x m!Tav (NSFW)

These pieces are often warmups, and sometimes from prompts. I use them as a fun exercise to get going before working on longer chapter pieces.

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Full Chapter FanFiction on Tumblr

Complete FanFics available to read in their entirety on Tumblr, no need to go to any external links! Series titles are links to the AO3 collections for the series, individual works chapters link only to those works.

ATG Chapters are reposted on @atavsguide Nothing else is on that side blog just FULL chapters of ATG so I won't list them here too.

The Book Of Loviatar

This series centres on Abdirak and He Who Was. It started as a single one shot that got out of hand, and became so much more. This is the heavy BDSM series so please do not go in expecting only some cuffs and a light whipping. Every chapter has the CWs.

Pain and Penance (NSFW) Suffering and Serenity (NSFW) Agony and Adoration (NSFW)

The Scent of Cinnamon

A series focusing on the relationship between Raphael and Haarlep from the time they first met up to the events of the game.

The Scent of Cinnamon Tumblr Masterlist (NSFW)

Coming Soon

BG3 FicFeb Challenges (some SFW some NSFW)

Daily writing prompts, posted on AO3 and on my main Tumblr here. I will make a link summary compilation post later to go here~

One Shot Fics

A Feast Fit For A Fiend (NSFW) Raphael, Haarlep, and Tav

Iron Flowers Never Wilt (SFW) Barcus Wroot and Zevlor

Above Him, Down Below (NSFW) Yurgir and Gender Neutral Reader

All We Cannot Have (Mostly SFW) Halsin x f!Tav, Angst/Emotional

The Meaning of Pain (Mostly SFW) Wyll and Abdirak discuss pain's purposes.

Learning to Dance on Hot Coals (NSFW) Wyll x Haarlep

More Coming Soon

Current WIPS:

Yurgir x Halsin "The Bear Hunt" (working title)

Planned Fics and Upcoming

God!Gale x Raphael FanZine Works ATG 16 Scent of Cinnamon 7 Barcus Wroot Collab (on hold, release tbc)

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Ask Box Responses

A collection of responses to things that have landed in my Ask inbox! Please feel free to send some in if you like~

NSFW Alphabet - Raphael and Haarlep (NSFW, Obviously) Raphael and Haarlep Works (Nov 2023, NSFW) Raphael and Haarlep Turn On/Offs (NSFW) Raphael, Haarlep, and Jealousy (Headcanons, NSFW) Raphael and Haarlep Modern AU (Headcanons, NSFW) Why isn't Raphael at The Druid Camp (Headcanons, SFW) Raphael Jealous of Tav and Yurgir? (NSFW) Raphael Jealous of Tav and Yurgir? Pt2 (NSFW)

I'll try to get to these relatively quickly if I can!

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Other Posts

Headcanons and Misc that don't fit anywhere else~

A Little Art (Mostly SFW) Tavylia's Raphael/Haarlep Headcanons (NSFW) Fandom Positivity Discussion (SFW) Cerudinae's Art of The Halloween Special (NSFW) Prequel Sample and Haarlep's "True" Form (Mild NSFW) Festive Cards from the BG3 Characters (Mild NSFW) Raphael and Haarlep Lia Fic Links Jan 2024 (NSFW) Tavylia's Top Ten Writing Tunes (SFW) Lia's New PFP by JuicieBox (SFW) Haarlep vs Harleep - A Silly Look At Spelling (SFW)

So there's a nice little mix of things, and more will be added! I didn't link every reblog or short post, just the more interesting ones.

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This list will be pinned and updated with new posts to keep a good log because Lia has such bad memory she can't remember half of what she has written or where~