#i absolutely Must talk about these things before they eat me alive

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐕𝐈 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

She’s the sweetest of sweet girls, I just wanna hug her >_<

Warnings: Intimacy but not anything explicit | set post season 2 |

A/N: Photos by Foggy Master on Pinterest

She’s never really had anyone to talk to about her problems, so she doesn’t. All her life she’s been protecting others, yet no one was able to do the same for her. She felt like a bother for any small thing she did and it would eat her alive. But after seeing how much you truly care, that you were willing to be there at her worst; she knew it was time.

Settling down is hard, she’s been fighting since she was a child, being able to finally live is something she never thought was possible.

She looked into the fireplace, watching small sparks fly out and disperse into the surrounding wood. A hand creeped onto her shoulder, it was yours, she’s always recognized it. Her head fell back onto your stomach as she looked up, seeing the face she loved so much. “You okay?” You leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead. She didn’t immediately give an answer, thinking back to the horrid events that took place in the war. The loss. Powder-blue eyes stared within yours, a thin lipped smile on her face. “No, it’ll take a while for me to be but…I will eventually.”

Is big on eye contact, especially when opening up. She’ll look you in the eye whenever you’re talking, doing remotely anything.

Loves to read; her favorite genre is fantasy or mystery. After she finishes a book, she’ll talk to you for hours about the entire thing.

“He couldn’t find her during like—the entire duration of the book but then suddenly she pops out at the end and it’s just so crazy! And then—“ she rambled on until her eyes saw your face. You were smiling, expression filled with nothing but adoration; you were listening. Not a single speckle of boredom present. “Then what else?” You tilted your head. A smile began to twitch at her lips before she continued on.

Gets creative with nicknames; anything food related, honestly. You were starting to think it’s because she’s hungry all the time but she has interesting reasons.

“You sure, cheesecake? I heard it’s—“”Wait, wait, what did you call me?” You interrupted her with a confused laugh. “Cheesecake? What’s wrong with it, you’re soft and sweet, like cheesecake.” She leaned her head on the palm of her hand. You simply shook your head at the her, “You sure have a way with words.”

One of the sweetest in a batch of bad people. She is not at all flawless, she’s made her mistakes, but her caring nature is undeniable.

When the two of you get intimate she’s always soft, can’t see her being rough or mean.

She placed light kisses on your neck, calloused hands gliding down your body. They felt rough, yet her motions were gentle—handling you like royalty. She worships you, from your head to your toes.

Absolutely touch starved, no arguements. Even if it’s the smallest touch from you, it’ll have her melting like ice cream on a sunny day.

Playing with her hair is an absolute must; your fingers smoothing over pink strands that’d stick up.

Gives the best hugs ever, she’ll squeeze you tight, wanting to provide security.

Occasionally drools in her sleep—imagine waking up and seeing it dribbling down her chin. It’s a sign that she’s comfortable.

[lovelettersforthedamned]

I just read this and 🥹🥹

https://www.tumblr.com/lovelettersforthedamned/736383346194694144/okay-this-request-might-be-a-little-specific-and

Could you do a part two?? Where Peter finally knows from her telling him because he’s still worried something is wrong between?

The Parkers

--genre: FLUFF, slight angst

--pairing: husband!tasm!peter parker x pregnant!wife!reader

--word count: 0.9k

--warnings: language, reader is pregnant, anxiety, one mention of nausea, FLUFF, peter loves his wife and her overthinking so much.

lowkey was waiting for someone to ask for a part two because i love this fic so much...

It was half past nine when you and Peter decided to head back home. The party was winding down, and after a cleaning up, May seemed like she was ready to hit the hay as well. With one last hug for everyone left in the living room, Peter leads you out the front door. 

As soon as the two of you stepped into the night, a shiver ran up both of your spines. A quick glance at each other signaled that it was absolutely freezing. Peter immediately pulls you into his side and starts to rub his hand along your arm at a fast pace, a simple attempt at trying to warm you up. You giggle at his action, looking up at him and his now rosy cheeks, admiring your husband. 

You must have not noticed how long you were silent, Peter broke it, “You sure you’re alright, bug?” Peter still thinks that there’s something wrong between the two of you. The thought was eating him alive as you’ve been silent the entire walk home. 

Your body tenses at his question, and with you still pulled into his side, he felt it too. May’s get-together was a good distraction from the very real situation you’ve found yourself in, and Peter's question brought back all the anxiety you felt earlier today. The hairs on his arms raised at the sudden nervousness radiating off of you. Even though your anxiety is urging him to speak, he allows you the time to respond. “Oh–um…Yeah, everything’s alright. I just need to talk to you about something,” your voice wavering, didn’t help either your or Peter’s feelings right now. 

Peter clears his throat, “Yeah, what’s going on?”

All of a sudden, you feel hot. Even a thin sheen of sweat appears on your brow, but the last thing you want is for Peter to let go of you. Your pace slows as you muster up the courage to tell him about everything, the test, the nausea, the conversation with Miriam, all of it. “Peter, I-I’m,” you take a sharp and deep breath, not daring to look anywhere but the pavement, “I’m pregnant.”

And still, with the words leaving the tightness of your throat, you still don’t feel any better. As you wait for any sort of response from Peter, you feel worse. 

You finally pry your eyes away from the gray cement and to the warm brown eyes of your husband. You two look at each other for a prolonged moment. You’re so nervous, but you can’t bear to pull yourself out of the trance of Peter’s eyes. 

You sigh, as you begin to speak, more like ramble, again, “Fuck, I know I should have told you as soon as I found out this morning, but I was, still am, nervous. And I also know I have no reason to be nervous, especially around you, but everything about this scares the shit out of me, but it also makes me so excited? I just have a lot of emotions right now, and I don’t know how to–.”

You're quickly enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, Peter rocking you two back and forth. He lets go of you as he brings both of his hands up to your face, “I’m gonna be a dad?” 

His entire reaction throws you off guard as you look at his features, “Uh…yeah, Pete. You’re gonna be a dad.”

A little giggle leaves his mouth before he leans his head down to kiss you softly, but passionately. The tenseness in your shoulders dissolves as you kiss him back. You two probably look crazy to others walking or driving down the street, but neither of you cared for them. 

With one last peck, Peter pulls away from your lips with a wide smile on his face. He brushes a stray hair that fell into your face behind your ear as his eyebrows furrow, “Why were you so nervous baby?”

“I don’t know,” you start, “I know that we’ve talked about kids before, but now, it’s real and I didn’t know how you were going to react.”

“Oh, bug. I will always stand by you and with you through whatever life throws at us. This is pretty big, but I fully believe that you’re capable of amazing things like being a mother, and with me, raising a family. I love you so so much (Y/N). Forever and ever.”

Peter always can bring a tear to your eye just off the way he loves you. You never knew how much you could love someone until you met Peter, and you were silly for ever thinking that his love for you would dull due to something like this. 

“You know, Miriam caught onto me earlier today?”

He leads you into a casual stroll as he recoils in disbelief, “No way. You just found out, how could she know?”

You shrug, “Said she could ‘see it in my face’.”

Peter laughs, grabbing ahold of your hand, and giving it a soft squeeze, “Maybe she’s magic…You know, May said that she once knew if her patient’s baby was a boy or a girl. And she was right.”

“Well,” you look at your husband, “we know who we need to go to when one of us wants to buy a lottery ticket!”

--author's note: EEEKKK!!! YAY A PART TWOOOO!!!!! peter loves reader so much omg its sickening. i need to write dad!peter more bc damn, i need him. be sure to like, comment, and reblog if you love what you see. my asks/inbox is open to send requests!!! ok, bye ily<3333

[lichanicksstuff]

I started watching doctor who for the first time like two weeks ago (I'm only on season two so please don't spoil anything). But only now have I started to wonder what would a crossover between the sandman and doctor who look like. (I don't know everything about doctor who universe, so excuse me).

I think it would be funny, if Doctor and Hob met in like early 1700s, became friends for like a day and stuff. But then they would meet again. 200 years later.

Hob would probably not be so shocked, because he's aware of the fact that there are other immortals out there, so he just asks what is the Doctor doing here. But Doctor on the other hand is absolutely flabbergasted because what the hell is this guy doing here, looking the same?! He's a human after all, why is he still alive?!

But then Hob asks if he was also given immortality by the strange man. He starts to describe Dream, because he still doesn't know said guy's name: "You know, the black hair, black eyes, black clothes, black pants, black boots and pale white skin guy!" And after a longer second the Doctor does realise that Hob is talking about Morpheus.

The thing is: Morpheus hates the Doctor. He's just walking around, playing with the realm of his father who somehow still allowes that. So if Dream finds out the Doctor is fraternizing with his friend (Hob called him that, so they must be close, even if he doesn't know Dream's name. He's a private anthropomorphic personification of dreams. Forgive him) even if Dream very clearly told him to stay away from everything and that he won't hesitate if the Doctor does not obey... Well, things might get a little complicated for the man who dares to call himself Time Lord. Very complicated even. Very, very complicated. Meeting with Death forever level of complicated.

But it turnes out that Hob is pretty helpful: he knows all about Earth and what's happening, what year is it, why are people walking in this weird kind of way- oh no, they're tap dancing. And Hob always buys him a drink, who would say no to this?

So Hob and the Doctor meet all across the centuries, sometimes people die, but Hob does not because he's immortal. It's nice for the Doctor to have a friend who's not dead after a glimpse of time.

But then the Doctor accidentally interrupts the 19th meeting between Mr. Gadling and Dream of the fucking Endless. Doctor is a little nervous by the fact that he might die any second, but Hob in all his sweetness and being his oblivious self; introduces the Doctor to Dream.

Dream is pretty angry, a little furious, a bit rabit, and it only makes the Doctor sweat more and more. But he has no heart to tell Hob, he has to get out of here before his dear friend will end his 900 years old of existence. So he sats down at the table, and all of them eat a dinner in the most uncomfortable and lethal atmosphere the Doctors felt in his life.

[envythemouse]

Best amnesiac Hannibal fics

Emergency Contact by mouemouth

Summary: Takes place somewhere in S2 but the timeline is fluid and has been altered to suit my purposes. Basically Hannibal has amnesia and forgets he's a cannibal and falls in love with Will at first sight, again.

Envy’s notes: The code to Hannibal’s phone is the day he met Will and that’s so romantic I just can’t-

“What- what about that church in Italy?”

“The Norman Chapel? Unlikely.” Hannibal laced his fingers together and looked up at Will who had come to hover over his shoulder while he sat at the desk attempting to unlock his phone. He likes Will being close like this. Hannibal smiles, “Please, Will,” he tries again, “What was the date when we first met?”

Will bit his lip nervously, did he really want to hinge his only chance at procuring hard evidence against the Chesapeake Ripper on an amnesiac’s guess? Only one way to find out.

Will sighed heavily, “April 4th.”

I shouldn't feel lonely when you're gone by Angelic_Disaster

Summary: The heart monitor connected to Hannibal makes a sudden, unrhythmical beep the moment Will enters through the door.

"You must forgive me for my bluntness, but are we in a romantic relationship?" Hannibal asks and Will isn't exactly sure how to answer that. He can't technically say no, but honestly, bloody courtship may be a more proper name for it.

While Hannibal suffers from a case of amnesia, Will puts a stop to the honey-trap plan to take care of him.

Envy’s notes: This is the first thing Hannibal says to Will when seeing him and it got me hooked. Why is Hannibal so romantic when he’s got amnesia? Why can’t he be like this all the time??

“Your aftershave is atrocious.”

And Will, because he already has given up on grasping a single scrap of normalcy in his fucked up life, laughs. 

“It’s not–” Will chuckles, covering his smile with his hand, breathing, trying to center himself. “It’s not the first time you tell me that.” 

“For as terrible as your aftershave is,” Dr. Lecter pauses. His breathing is heavier than usual and he lowers his gaze to the floor for a second, taking the time to recover before locking his eyes with Will’s again. “I find it impossibly endearing.” 

Also, Will buys Hannibal expensive food and takes it to the hospital and then Hannibal shares the food with him because he gets the feeling Will won’t eat otherwise. How sweet is that?

Empty slot by dancey94

Summary: What if Hannibal forgot he was a cannibalistic serial killer?

Envy’s notes: Takes place early in the series, before Hannibal kills Tobias. Hannibal tells Will he has encephalitis (it takes Hannibal losing his memory to be a decent friend, I guess XD).

Lecter looks at the man and his nostrils sense a sweet feverish scent. He knows he smelt it before. And it’s a bad sign, a symptom of…

“Encephalitis” Hannibal murmurs.

“You need to see a doctor, a neurologist. Your brain is inflamed”

“How do you…?” Will massages his temples “Do you remember all this or…?”

Can you imagine what Bedelia is thinking here? Loses his memory and still, all he can talk about is Will Graham.

“Have I ever mentioned Will Graham to you?” he asks nevertheless; he’s too curious to resist.

She smiles in a way he knows he has. Can he simply ask what he’s told her about the man?

“How would you…describe my feelings about him?”

You may be a sinner, but your innocence is mine by multifandom_fanfic_writer

Summary: “Hello,” Will said. He wanted to say something else, something to convey his relief at Hannibal being alive, being okay, but he didn’t know what to say.

“Hello,” Hannibal responded. His eyes were bright. “You are very beautiful.”

Envy’s notes: Hannibal assumes Will is his husband and is absolutely smitten.

“Are you my husband?”

Will chocked on thin air. “What makes you say that?”

Hannibal hummed. “You’ve brought me food,” the doctor said, “from a medium to high-quality restaurant, if my sense of smell is accurate. This implies you know me well enough to know of my dislikes, and care enough to go through the effort of obtaining it for me. Your scent is familiar – you were here, before. You are an attractive man–”

[receival]

castlevania, season 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from the netflix original, castlevania.

oh, my god. i am losing my mind.

it’s only been a month. i think.

i think it might actually be a nice night, for once.

do you think we’ll make the next town before we lose the last of the light?

do we need to make more noise?

they need to hurry up. i’m hungry.

let them get in close and get confident.

oh, god, not this again.

i am certainly doomed. doomed, i say! i am defenseless and frozen to my seat with fear!

laying it on a little thick, aren’t you, (name)?

this will all be over in a minute.

what if i said i was sorry?

i’ve been promoted from “brain - damaged servant”, then.

it’s absolutely bloody chaos out there!

i want to get in a bath, for at least a day.

the plan couldn’t have gone more wrong.

you’ll be wanting a drink, then.

you do still love me!

it’s us against the world, (name).

has there been some apocalyptic development that i somehow slept through in the meantime?

time absolutely does move on, and, sadly, none of us is master or mistress of it.

they are somewhat, uh, broken.

did you kill it?

how do you know this?

they said they felt his death.

does that offend you?

it’s time for you and yours to move along now, (name).

what the hell was that?

oh, dear. what a shame.

not until i feel a little safer here.

you killed that bastard thing. you get one free.

that is better than sex.

i do hope you sleep well tonight, with my tiny, icy foot shoved all the way up your —

and you know the smell of hell?

are you breathing, betrayer?

i was spoiled by a single act of kindness in this city. and so i attempted to be reasonable, honest, and peaceful. this was against my better nature.

it was stupid to expect anything other than hate from you.

i keep making the same mistake. i should know better.

then why are still talking to me?

do you know what annoys me about it the most? it’s a really good idea.

maybe we could just torture him until he does what he’s told.

i suppose i’m awake now.

good boy.

what a formidable beast you are.

uh … who the hell are you?

you are practically the jesus of murder.

i have no idea what’s happening right now.

and … what do you want in return?

what interests you so much about hell?

i will not be hunted.

if i wanted him dead, i would have aimed higher.

i am not “the” anything.

you’re better than i thought.

you will have to unlearn much of what you know about the world and take on more than you ever imagined.

i think my mother would approve.

now we are not alone.

i suppose we could take a break.

ah, you’ve gone insane.

you could have told me that yesterday.

well, now i want to know how you’re even alive.

the place is apparently full of lunatics.

what do you need to know?

they just looked … well. broken.

i’m not looking at you, (name).

you like looking at me.

do you partake of alcohol?

it’s not pain as you understand it.

i’m too angry. i cannot find myself.

i cannot pray. i cannot see god.

he was confused. he was grieving.

it is a skill, learned over many years.

through my hand, god lifts the damned from hell in his mercy to enact their penance on the earth as my soldiers.

well after you’ve had your blood, what will you do then?

i’ve been cruel. it’s a cruel world. maybe we do all deserve to die — but maybe we could be better, too.

revenge is good. bastards need punishing.

vampires. you like to play with your food.

sorry. it must look like blood, mustn’t it?

i seem to have some roasted chicken in here. i’m afraid there are no maggots on it — i can call the guard and ask him to get you some sprinkles.

we enjoy all the good things of life. it’d be silly not to, wouldn’t it? otherwise, well, why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

why live forever, if you’re not going to live well?

it’s alright. i’m not here to cause you any more harm.

let’s just have something to eat, and talk.

well! wasn’t that fun!

i’m a diplomat, (name). i make peace. and because of that, people think i’m soft. people think i’m weak. you won’t make that mistake again, will you?

fetch!

don’t look at those.

how long have you been here on your own?

tell me i’m wrong.

i admit it, alright? it’s been amazing. but i also remember how hard it was to get here.

i wish you’d stop talking to me like i’m insane, (name).

we wear the mark of hell?

i confess i had doubts about you.

enough. move away.

quietly confident people are competent and careful. nervous people make mistakes.

i’d rather they were nervous than happy in their work.

stop pretending that this is anything other than what it is.

it’s not poisoned.

let’s talk about what you would like.

i — i don’t understand the question.

i wasn’t necessarily looking for a reward.

so, you would have died with your boots on.

but what if you’re lying to me?

oh, i don’t have to lie to you. i have no interest in faith. faith makes for terrible diplomacy.

i like the sound of your voice.

i mean, look at you. beaten down a dozen different ways, and you don’t give up on yourself.

what a monster i have become.

i cannot believe this is happening again.

why do i keep doing the same thing and expecting a different result?

am i mad?

what the hell are you doing with your life?

what the actual hell are you thinking?

you weren’t following me, were you?

somebody always needs something.

places have a strange way of catching back up with you.

and you know it wasn’t there yesterday?

oh. that’s worrying,

i want to see how good you are when it comes down to a blade.

i’m developing a taste for the rougher things in life.

i do not trust people, generally.

who did you lose?

a bird might think your penis was a twig and fly off with it.

good boy.

the thing is, (name), humans forget things. vampires don’t.

you have a lot to learn.

so dramatic. relax and enjoy the night.

alright, i admit it. that’s fantastic.

is this a trick? am i dreaming?

i had a feeling you might find it interesting.

can i see you tomorrow night?

that’s a depressing thought.

i hope i love long enough to find out how it ends.

we — we shouldn’t be … here.

take my hand! please!

i’m sure there must have been a time when i had nice dreams.

do you remember who you were?

i think it was a long time ago.

i gave up others so that i may live.

thank you for my second life.

it will take a very long time, and there are more important things to do.

i’m not going anywhere, (name).

it’s a little more complicated than that.

not an obvious thing to find in a church.

i don’t see why this would excite you so.

i fail to see why this should interest me.

you’re alone here?

i smell you.

i see you.

i’m just not as strong as i was.

there are worse things than betrayal.

i’m a simple man with simple pleasures.

oh, i do like meeting a professional killer.

keep a civil fucking tongue in your head when you’re addressing me, (name).

you can’t keep me here.

i can’t believe i tried to be nice to you.

why are you still awake?

can you not keep it down?

well, now i definitely need a drink.

he’s holding things back from us.

can it be after i’ve had a nap?

i’m not lazy. i conserve my resources for important

efforts.

i feel as if i’ve been led here.

we’re doomed.

i don’t have enough information yet.

i seem to have missed that epic part of your plan.

you’re being … kind.

alright, alright. no need to make a production out of it.

i’m simply not used to people being kind to me for no reason.

there’s not something you’re not telling me?

has night fallen already?

you didn’t hear me enter.

i’m presuming there’s some disturbing reason for that and i will regret asking.

so now we’re not all monsters?

diplomacy is compromise.

i get something, you get something.

i have all the power, and you’re a pretty man in a box.

i’m — i’m pretty?

i’ve been awake all day thinking about it.

i want to be let out.

that would be a direct betrayal.

you’d survive less than a day on your own.

i would die almost immediately.

uh, that wasn’t what i was expecting to hear.

i think we’ve made a terrible mistake.

god is no longer in that house.

sleep, you idiot.

maybe i should get a coffin to sleep in.

tell me you’re mine.

i’m yours.

tell me you belong to me.

i belong to you.

what the fuck is that?

i may have been on my own for too long.

another hopeful idea that died in its sleep.

(name), do you have my back?

you’re already dead.

why? why would you tell me this?

all this death and horror for that leech?

show me what i want to see, you fucking bastard!

i gave you everything.

the world is not against you.

i am not against you.

i never lied to you.

i just want to know what’s behind that door.

this could not have gone more wrong.

[thalwhore]

Intermission

A little Tally fic to get down my thoughts on their turbulent dynamic. Set in a universe where Eira (oc) is the Dragonborn and Sulba (oc) is one of her followers. As always Taliesin belongs to @dynamite124 (go install his mod if you're on pc 🔫 he's so fun and worth it)

.

"You know, the only reason you're alive right now is because of Eira." The Redguard snarks, eyes focused on the opposite end of the room- anywhere but at him.

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of that fact. If not for her I'd have probably bled out back then." Taliesin replies, still dutifully bandaging his comrades wound. "It's a miracle really, that she even stumbled across me. I can't say I'm not grateful."

Sulba growls. "Not what I meant."

"What do you mean then?"

"That I'd have killed you by now if it weren't for her."

Taliesin can't help but bark a laugh. "Oh dear, something tells me you're in no position to fight at the moment. We barely got you here, I sincerely doubt you'd have held up against a single bandit."

"I could kill you in your sleep."

"But you won't."

The Redguard looks annoyed, scowling at Taliesin before returning to glaring a hole into the wall opposite her.

With a sigh, her Altmer companion snips the remainder of the bandage, securing it to her arm before packing the supplies away. "I'd recommend against magic until she comes back with a potion for you, believe me- its not pleasant to fight with."

"You're not pleasant to fight with."

"Will you please stop acting like a petulant child!" Taliesin snaps, rising to his feet. "I understand that you have issues with the Thalmor, but that's no reason for you to be so hostile to me when I've very clearly left them!"

He turns away from her, packing the medical supplies away in one of the parks Eira had given them. Ear twitching as Sulba mutters something under her breath.

"If you're going to shit-talk me, at least have the guts to say it to my face."

"I asked why I should believe you."

It gives the Altmer pause, securing the straps in silence. "Honestly? You shouldn't. We're trained in subterfuge, anyone who knows anything about the Thalmor is right to be wary."

He expected Sulba to be happy with the statement, to look at him with a shit-eating grin that says 'I got you'. But she doesn't. Instead she's staring down at her shaking palms.

"What, have I upset you?"

"Your existence upsets me."

"You- Oh not again! We're talking in absolute circles! If you're going to hate me for having the audacity to exist, at least be creative about it. Or better yet- tell me why."

"You really want to know? You want to live with that knowledge?"

"I assure you, it can't be worse than anything I learned or saw during the war. Whatever the Thalmor put you through, I probably had to participate in enacting in thricefold."

She hesitates a moment, holding one hand in the other. "Thalmor killed my parents."

Taliesin scoffs. "Hardly a unique tale of woe these days, there must be more than that."

"And I watched."

"...Now we're getting somewhere. Go on, what horrors have been burned into your memory to make you hate me?" He asks, rather flippant about the whole thing.

It receives a brief scowl from Sulba, but that expression is quickly overtaken with grief. "I...I was only eight. You already know this, but Hammerfell has always opposed Dominion rule, thanks in large part to its people. My parents were such people." She starts.

Taliesin winces. "Yes, I also know Thalmor actions there can't exactly be described as legal, even in wartime."

She nods. "My parents saw the colours of the uniform, had me hide in a crawlspace built into the home in case of such a thing. They..." there's hesitation, a shaky inhale of breath to steady her nerves. "They were both burned. A flame spell, no matter what they did they couldn't put eachother out- try as they may. And the Thalmor soldiers...they just watched, seemed to enjoy it, even."

She hiccups a sob, pressing a hand to her mouth to stifle it. "The fire spread but they didn't leave- I thought I was going to burn to death with the home. By the time they left i- I was choking on the smoke, I barely managed to get out before the building collapsed on top of me."

Sulba takes a moment to steady herself, Taliesin sitting patiently all the while.

"I passed out after it, some researchers found me near the still smoldering ashes- took me with them to Skyrim. They figured I'd be safer with them here."

It's then that Taliesin finally speaks up. "I'm...I'm sorry. I know that won't mean anything to you, but I truly am. Nobody should have to suffer that, least of all a child."

She looks blankly at the robes he's still wearing. "Even just the sight of those gives me nightmares, I can still smell the smoke now, the burning flesh. Its very distinct, you know? No other scent like it."

In the morning he'd wear robes more typical of a Skyrim mage, in blue and white, a far cry from that of the Thalmor colours.

She'd nod a silent thanks, and their previous discussion remained between them alone while her general anger at his presence seemed to lessen.

A shaky bridge formed, but a bridge nonetheless.

[dolly-on-the-dotted-line]

Interlude: Solicitation

Solicitation: The act of asking for or trying to obtain something from someone.

Rating: 18+ (for consistency)

Warnings: Dazzling sincerity, Touches of Heartbreak, Reckless Erections.

A/N: So I leave for *checks watch* 8 months and there are now SO many of you 🥺 thank you to everyone who has found, loved, and shared this story, especially while I've been absent getting my new life together. It absolutely astounds me. I've had this little snippet in my back pocket for a while and now feel ready to post it as I start to get back into the swing of things. Think of it as a reparation for being gone for much longer than I intended and a placeholder while I pick up the threads of the story again. This interlude tells the story of the last NYE they spent together which Bug refers to after Stella's wedding and the 'agreement in Michigan' that Javi talks about. It's fun filling in the gaps and giving context to these moments that happen between the chapters. I love them.

Ann Arbor, New Year, Age 24: Solicitation 

'The last time you had danced together must have been Christmas time, the final stint of your year ‘together’. It was new years eve, you think. Everyone had left the small get-together you’d thrown and instead of washing up glasses at 3am, you’d stood in the kitchen and swayed listlessly, bone-weary and half sober listening to Eric Carmen. You don’t think you can recall ever being as happy as you were at that moment. It was the end of the best year of your life.'

You fucking loved it here. Michigan was the one place in your life you couldn’t bear to leave.

You knew it was the new year making you dramatic, with another twelve months on the lease, at least, guaranteed. But you also knew it was often the things you wanted to hold on to the most that had the greatest tendency of slipping away.

If you pretended you weren't looking, perhaps things would stay exactly where they were. Despite your best efforts, you knew the likelihood of that happening was slim to none.

Instead of ruminating, you pour yourself another drink and go back to the party. 

“So what do you do, Javier?” was all you’d heard in your peripheral all evening.

You shouldn’t be surprised, you suppose. He was actually new here. This was the first time he’d been wheeled out for the benefit of your college friends, spruced up for the occasion, featuring all the bells and whistles.

You’d returned the favour of your own trip to Fairfax in second year, finally inviting him to see the most sacred part of your life - your home away from home.

But for all the secrets you kept hidden here, Javi wasn’t one of them.

Everyone was gagging to meet him, and from the way you’d spoken of him over the last four years, you couldn’t exactly blame them, either. Golden by name, golden by nature. They'd been eating him alive since 6pm.

“I’m DEA. Or, I will be, soon," comes his automatic reply. The humble addition at the end of the statement makes you smile for the tenth time tonight. 'He was going to be a big deal soon, he promised.'

“That’s cool!” replies Sylvia, echoing the similar sounds of pleasant surprise your other friends had all mustered in turn as the evening had gone on. They were right, it was cool.

“Is that close to here, or home?”

You see the way he weighs it up in his head, clearly caught off guard by a question he didn’t have a rehearsed answer for.

“Uh, neither, actually. Quantico, have you heard of it?” 

Bless your friends and their small talk and their well-meaning nosiness. He'd been a broken record all evening, happily filling in the details, but that one had got him.

Discussions of things like ‘how far’ and ‘how long' had been generally forbidden between the two of you for a long time. You blame the new year once again for the sudden uptick in temporal awareness.

Midnight comes and goes. People kiss, dance, laugh. Javi holds you close and nobody bats an eyelid. The early morning kicks in before anyone has the chance to realise. He's stolen away by another group of your friends, eager to make up for years worth of your hiding him away.

When he manages to excuse himself from the crowd no less than an hour later, he's immediately on a mission to seek you out. Clearly there was a limit to how many times he could run his spiel on demand. He finds you in the kitchen, collecting the glasses and trying to fit them in the basin.

He's on you in a second, grabbing you by the waist, curling you into his arms, and kissing your cheek sweetly. 

"I haven't seen you for hours," he laments sarcastically.

“Well, I guess it’s you that no one knows this time.”

“I can see why you enjoyed it, it’s weirdly liberating. No expectations.”

“The expectations are only so high because you made them that way. You're also probably not helping by talking yourself up so much.”

He ignores you with a throwaway grunt and nuzzles into you further.

“You’re so… popular,” he muses, watching the way your hands pass over the glasses, “I've barely been able to say a word to you. It’s nice, everyone's really nice.” 

“It’s been a very good time for me… living here. Despite not having you so close. I’ll be sad to see the back of it at the end of the year.” 

You lean over the sink and attempt to start the washing up while people pace to and from the room, collecting their belongings, singing drunken goodbyes and blowing sloppy kisses. But when you try to turn to gather the rest of the dishes, Javi holds on to you incessantly.

“Don’t move,” he whispers in your ear. 

“What?”

“Please, just… don’t move.”

He crowds up behind you closer, and you immediately feel the weight of his erection pressing against your backside. 

“Are you hard?” you snort quizically.

“Devastatingly. Now please just do me a favour and don’t move.”

You laugh quietly for his own discretion, both at his candid begging and his flagrant arousal.

“What is that about?” 

“I just can’t stop looking at you. Been looking at you from across the room all night. Now can you stop doing the damn dishes and just kiss me, please?” 

You take one small look over his shoulder to see if the room is clear, but in reality, you couldn't care less if anyone saw you. This was your apartment, these people were your friends, and you were quite sure everyone had either left or passed out anyway. Turning to face him, you let him gather you up eagerly, press your back against the counter, and kiss you.

“You know, people are going to catch on eventually if we continue surreptitiously not seeing other people. Especially when you go away. They can spin a rumour about me being gay, but I’m not so sure you’ll get away with that one.”

“Do you want them to?" he murmurs as he kisses tenderly along your jaw. "Catch on, I mean.”

“I’m not sure. Maybe. I never expected things to be like this, let alone for so long. I’ve had plenty of difficult thoughts about this whole thing but that was never one of them. Like I said, my life here is… different.”

“Difficult thoughts?” he queries, catching on to that phrase in a heartbeat, his kisses faltering quickly.

“Yeah. A few.” 

“About me?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, suddenly overwhelmed with emotion.

He looks at you, brows raised but not accusatory, waiting for your explanation. When he sees your lip quiver, his own pops out in a disheartened pout. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing. I’m just, happy.” 

“It doesn’t look like you’re happy,” he panders, digging his fingers into your waist tighter to hold you more firmly, as if you’ll slip away given the chance. 

“I’m sad because I’m happy. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy.”

“But why does that make you sad?” he chuckles, confusion plain on his shining face. 

“Because I never expected to be this happy, ever. And now I am. And now I know what it will feel like to not be this happy maybe ever again.”

You stare at him lovingly, silent tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re leaving,” you say simply, sadly, “and I don’t think you realise just how far gone you’re going to be.”

You feel your eyes glass over even more, your sinuses heavy as you bite your lip to detract from the sensation.

“Javi, I-”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You don’t have to say it. I know. Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll try my best.”

You take a deep breath and make a choice, one you’ve known has been coming for a while now. But the preparation doesn't make it hurt any less.

“I just want you to do what’s right for you. And I’ll do the same. And if those things happen to meet in the middle eventually, like they have done until now, then maybe I’ll get to be this happy again. And if not, then at least I’ll be glad that you’ve kept your promise.” 

He understands where you're going with this immediately. He knows you’ll have had a plan, marked out your borders the moment he’d signed his new contract. You needed to know where this was going or where it wasn’t. You needed to minimise the damage wherever possible. 

“You wouldn’t ask me to stay?”

“Never.”

“Why?”

“Because you might say yes. And I could never be the thing to keep you somewhere. Not if it wasn't where you wanted to be.” 

He laughs again at your frankness, your ability to surmise exactly the problem at hand, so entirely unique to the two of you. But the look in his eye is sad now, struggling to chase off the disappointment at hand. 

“I want you to promise that we’ll never be the thing that holds the other one back,” you continue, showing your brave face as you look him right in the eye, despite the fact it feels as though you’re being stabbed. 

“That’s what I want from you. This will be… whatever it will be, and that’s fine. But everything’s changing, for real. I can just feel it. And even though I’m sad about it, I won’t let it stop you. And you just promise me that when it’s my turn, you’ll do the same.” 

“So what, we’re both just too stubborn to do the right thing?”

“Because we’re stubborn we’re doing the right thing. There’s a reason this was never going to be simple. We know each other too well. We both want more than we can have.” 

“And what if it does work out? Eventually?” he asks tentatively, raising an eyebrow ever so slowly.

“Then you just let me know. And I’ll be there. I’ll be there in a heartbeat. Just don’t expect it to be soon. We both have a lot to prove in the meantime.” 

He collapses into you with a huff, unable to query a word, and grateful that he didn't have to be the one to say it. It's all there in the way that he holds you; the gentle rub of his thumb against your ribs, the press of his nose against your shoulder, the way his foot rests plainly against yours.

"When accounting for the line at infinity, even parallel lines intersect eventually. Or so they say."

"They don't teach projective geometry in school for a reason," he quips, pinching at your side teasingly.

“I’m so lucky to have had you like this. This year and the one before it. I’m lucky to have had you like this at all.” 

“It’s been a very good year,” you sigh, falling into him with equal enthusiasm.

“Now make love to me in this kitchen and we’ll hope and pray that the next one is even half as good.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he growls tenderly, and gets down on his knees. 

Playlist Recommendation

Taglist

@furious-rogue-stuff

@athalien

@sara-alonso

@vanemando15

@chronic-nosebleed

@mashomasho

@hnt-escape

@kirsteng42

@in-for-a-pennyx

[chaotic-archaeologist]

hey reid, hope you don't mind if i come for some advice, i love your blog and it has motivated me to pursue my academic goals.

i'm currently in my first semester of my graduate program and while i like my peers, professors and everything i can't help but feel crushingly depressed and alone lol. i'm managing grad work fine (i think) but my advisor will check in on how i'm doing overall and i don't think i can really say i've mentally been in a bad place if it's even relevant to bring up. i don't want it to get to the point of it affecting my work, though i don't want to be dishonest.

Okay, so the good news and the bad news is that what you're experiencing is a totally normal part of grad school. Everyone goes through this to a certain degree. You've just moved to a new place and started a massively imposing endeavor—it makes sense that you're lonely and depressed. There's nothing wrong with you for feeling this way.

Also, you said it yourself: you're in your first semester of your graduate program! Nobody is expecting you to have done anything monumental yet. Walk before you try to run. If you can go to a conference and apply for some funding by the end of the year, I would call that a win.

I bet you're probably used to being in the top of your undergraduate classes, and now in grad school you're thrown in with a bunch of other people who were also overachievers. It's intimidating. There's the temptation to look around at your peers and feel inadequate. Do not let yourself do this. That way, madness lies. I guarantee you that everyone else around you is feeling a similar panic about what they haven't done.

I would actually encourage you to talk with your advisor. You don't have to open up about your feelings. Instead, frame it around what you hope to accomplish, and check to see if they think that's reasonable. Last year around this time (when I was in my first semester) I sat down my advisor and we sketched out a rough two year plan. That included what classes I was going to take each semester, how I would spend my time in the summer, and opportunities I wanted to go after. If that kind of structure might help you, definitely do something similar.

Now here's my one piece of absolutely critical advice: you must find something that affirms your sense of self your outside of school. For me, it's volunteering with Big Brothers Big Sisters. One of my friends takes dance classes. Another does community organizing. Cooking. Roller derby. Anything that you can enjoy. The benefits to these sorts of activities are twofold.

First, they give you something to feel good about even when you're struggling academically. If your whole life is tied up in one thing, it can feel like the end of the world when you hit a rough patch. Spread your eggs out into other baskets. This is a form of self care.

Second, these activities introduce you to other people. A big part of making friends is just showing up at the same place as other people, and continuing to spend time with them. Grad school makes that difficult, but I promise you, your life will be so much better if you carve out some time for yourself.

Doing things with other students is also good! I took a bunch of my cohort to hockey games last year, and I'm planning on doing the same thing again. It can be a craft night, or a potluck—whatever you want. Build up some camaraderie! You don't have to be best friends with your fellow students, but it helps to have a friendly face around the department.

The thing about grad school is that you gotta spark your own joy, otherwise it'll eat you alive. Pull your nose back from the grindstone, take a breath, and do something to remind yourself that the world is beautiful and life is worth living.

-Reid

[gardensgatekeeper]

Angel Straight from Hell - Part 2

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Warnings: Language, fluff, mentions of infidelity, jealousy, angst, fingering, (slight) overstimulation, degradation. Pure filth. As always, let me know if I missed any!

If you haven't already, make sure to read Part 1!

Update: All parts of this story have been combined and posted here!

As soon as the two of you got home, Jake dropped his keys in the bowl by the front door before heading upstairs. Of course, you followed hot on his trail, still trying to explain yourself but all you were met with was a soft, emotionless, “I don’t want to talk about it tonight Y/N.” The way he said your name instead of the way he always used some version of a pet name stung worse than it should have. You knew he had to be feeling something – anger, jealousy, sadness – but he was just calm. He entered the bathroom attached to the bedroom, locking himself in for a few minutes to get ready for bed. You paced outside the door, wondering if you had completely ruined the only good thing in your life. Had you selfishly thrown away a perfectly good relationship for one night of pleasure?

Jake soon emerged and walked past you as he made his way to the bed, setting his phone on the charger on the nightstand. “Jake.” you whispered out again, “Please talk to me.” This time, he did, turning towards you ever so slightly, which got your hopes up just a little. Truthfully, you’d take him yelling and throwing things over this deafening silence any day. “Goodnight Y/N.” He said as he flipped the light off, leaving you standing in the now dark room. Your heart sank to the floor as the tears began to stream down your face. How were you going to fix this?

Your head hung low as you walked out into the hallway, opting to sleep on the couch tonight because the thought of sleeping next to someone who wants absolutely nothing to do with you was just too painful to bear. Luckily, you had just done laundry earlier that day, so you headed back downstairs to grab a change of clothes before making your way to your makeshift bed for the evening.

You heard your phone ding nearby, only then remembering dropping it in the bowl with Jake’s keys earlier. When you checked the notification, you saw a text from an unsaved number.

Unknown: Hey it’s Danny. Got your number from Josh. How are things?

You: He won’t talk to me. I really fucked up. I shouldn’t have done it and I don’t know how I’m gonna fix it.

Danny: It was a mutual decision Y/N, we were both in the wrong. Just let him sleep it off. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Get some rest.

You sighed, dropping your phone back on the entryway table before dropping face first on the couch. The guilt and regret was eating you alive as you cried yourself to sleep, wishing there was any way you could go back in time and fix things.

---

The next morning, you woke up confused as you were no longer on the couch, but back in your bed. Your heart panged a bit as you turned to find the empty spot next to you neatly made up. As your senses began to wake up, you smelled coffee brewing, immediately hopping out of bed to find Jake standing in front of the bay window watching the sun slowly peek over the trees in the backyard. He must have heard you come downstairs as he gently spoke up, his voice almost sounding foreign as you hadn’t heard it in so long. “Poured you a cup. Two sugars and a dash of creamer, just how you like it.” You muttered a “Thank you.” before finding the mug sitting on the counter by the coffee pot.

Walking over to him, you sat your mug down on the side table before turning to him. “Jake, about last night…” You started. “Am I not good enough for you anymore?” He whispered out, his words stabbing through your heart like a sword. “Jake, no. No, that’s not it at all. I just, I don’t know, I was drunk and I know that’s not an excuse but you were busy and it just happened. I’m sorry Jake, I wish I could take it back, I really do. I fucked up and I shouldn’t have done it. I’m sorry.”

He was silent for a moment as if taking in your words to determine his next response. “Is that what you really wanted though? With Danny?” an unknown tone lacing his words.

“It’s not something I planned on happening, but it just did.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. Did you enjoy it?” He asked.

Oh. Unsure of exactly what he was getting at, you decided to tread lightly to test the waters. “I mean it was good, but nothing compared to you Jake. Nobody could ever make me feel as good as you do.” You replied honestly.

He shifted towards you, setting his coffee mug beside yours. You held your breath as you had no idea what his next move was going to be. Taking you completely off guard, Jake moved his hand to ghost ever so slightly over the top of the waistband of your shorts. His hands worked their way in, sliding his fingers over your core as you shuddered against his touch. Without warning, he slipped a finger in, a shaky gasp leaving your lips.

“Like this?” Your eyes were screwed shut but you could still sense the smirk on his face. “Jake.” you quietly moaned out, gripping his arm for support. Knowing he had you under his spell, he inserted another finger and your knees almost buckled when he began to curl them inwards. “Fuck!”

“I bet he doesn’t know all your favorite spots like I do.” Taking his other free hand, he lifted up your shirt before taking your left exposed nipple in his hand, twisting and pulling it until they were rock hard. You gasped out in a mix of pain and pleasure when he latched on, gently biting down on the sensitive bud for a moment before his lips ghosted your ear. “Doesn’t know that you’re an absolute whore for me. For my fingers. Isn’t that right?” You could hear the snarky tone that laced his words. Is he jealous?

“Only for you Jake. Please don’t stop.” You begged, already feeling the familiar pressure building in your core. “Oh trust me angel, you’ll be begging me to stop soon enough.” He continued curling his fingers around your bundle of nerves until cried out as you reached your high. But he kept going, teetering you on the edge of overstimulation. “C’mon, give me another one. Show me how sorry you are. Cum for me again like the desperate whore you are.” He demanded, not slowing down. Moments later you were gasping out as another orgasm ripped through you. “I can’t…Jake…” You failed to formulate a full sentence, but he knew. He withdrew his fingers, a quiet whimper escaping your mouth from the empty feeling. You were still holding on to his arm, barely able to keep yourself up as your legs felt like jelly.

You looked up at Jake as he brought his hand up to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean of your release. “Tastes like heaven.” Your mind clouded with thoughts as you immediately remembered the same words muttered by his best friend and bandmate just the night before.

Snap out of it Y/N, that’s what got you in trouble in the first place!

“Let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” He smirked as he scooped you in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom upstairs, running a warm bath with your favorite lavender soaks. You sighed in complete relaxation from the warm water but also feeling like things were okay again with Jake. He sat beside you, the two of you just enjoying each other's company without needing to speak. You noticed he was checking his phone quite a bit, assuming it was probably one of the guys since they had a shared group chat to discuss all things band related. Or by the smirk on his face, maybe one of them sent something funny? Whatever the reason was, you decided to shut your eyes and just relax for a few more minutes.

That was, until he spoke up again. "By the way, we're having company tonight."

✶ ✶ ✶

Taglist:

@jannysarcher @jamiek05

[leftoverbriocheloaf]

Dramatic ahh siren au sounds awfully intriguing

" “Would you like me to tell you a story?” Yosano asked softly. Ranpo wasn’t a child, he almost said. He was nearly old enough to rule—there was no need to coddle him. But the worry in her eyes was palpable, and he couldn’t bring himself to say no– not when it was his nightmare that had woken her in the first place. He nodded.

“Well,” she started, “I assume you know about the people who’ve gone missing recently.”

Ranpo didn’t see how this was supposed to help him sleep, but he nodded anyway.

“There are rumors going around about the cause. Some people say it’s a serial killer, or a political statement, but no bodies have been found. Not until yesterday.”

He raised an eyebrow. Fukazawa had told him that under no circumstance may he investigate the case, saying nothing but that it was too dangerous for him. He hadn’t realized there had been any developments.

“It wasn’t a body, exactly. He was still alive. He was in a panic, talking about a creature with the mind of a human. He sounded delirious at first, but people have been giving his words more and more credit. The man said he had been drawn to it, and he hadn’t questioned when the creature offered a battle of wits.”

“Wits?”

Yosano nodded quickly, “And then we realized that everyone who has gone missing has been a scholar of some sort. Or just smart. And usually, they were annoying about it.”

Ranpo hummed. It sounded like a story that a parent would tell their child to encourage them not to boast, but Yosano was clearly interested, so he held his tongue.

“And the man said that he’d been confident, because how would a creature who lived in the sea– that’s right, he mentioned the creature had been in a cave half-filled with water– know more than him? But he couldn’t win. And the original agreement had been for wishes– if the man won, the creature would grant him a wish. If he didn’t, the creature would kill him.”

“And he thought it would be able to grant anything?” Ranpo scoffed. It sounded more like a hallucination than anything else.

“I guess... But still!” Yosano pouted, “It’s strange, isn’t it?”

“He’s clearly making things up,” Ranpo rolled his eyes, “How did he expect anyone to believe him if he came back alive after losing?”

She sighed, “He wouldn’t say how he returned. Just that the creature was dangerous. He disappeared again today, and no one can find him.”

That was unexpected.

“He wasn’t held for questioning?”

“He was,” she nodded, “But he escaped. Almost killed the guard watching him.”

The case was… almost interesting. That was strange. Especially considering the likelihood that the man was simply drugged out of his mind. Or lying for the hell of it.

But Ranpo had a gut feeling that wasn’t right. "

And a bit later in the story:

" It flashed a grin when Ranpo sat only a few feet away, “Self-preservation isn’t taught to royals? One would think they’d be more careful.” 

“Please,” Ranpo scoffed, “You have too much pride to kill me before you attempt to prove your intellect. I’m in no danger.”

“Must I prove it?” the creature asked, “You’re already here. You wouldn’t make the adventure alone for mere trivia.”

“How do you know I’m alone?”

“Do you truly think your father would provide you with guards to challenge a siren?” it laughed, and it was mocking and grating, “You came alone, and you will die alone.”

“A siren?” Ranpo frowned. He was told they’d all gone extinct centuries ago. Even then, “Aren’t you supposed to sing me to death?”

“A human? Aren’t you supposed to procreate and die?” it bit back, clearly peeved, and Ranpo barely resisted the urge to snort.

“So, then, do you eat the people you kill?”

The creature– The siren’s face morphed to a grimace, “Absolutely not. All humans think they taste better than they do. You lot really aren’t that appealing.”

“So you eat fish then? Isn’t that kind of cannibalism?”

“If you believe I am a fish, then I suppose so. Though I believe cannibalism is frowned upon in human society, so maybe I will say no.”

Ranpo grinned, “For the most part it is, yeah. But why kill, then?”

“Aren’t you supposed to figure that out yourself?” it leered, mimicking his earlier words with an imitation that was just a bit too squeaky for Ranpo’s taste. Rude. As soon as he put the pieces together, he rolled his eyes.

“Killing for the crime of being annoying is a bit much, isn’t it?”

The siren looked surprised for barely a moment before stilling itself, “Humans often kill for far less.”

“I can’t argue with you there.”

“Are you finished with your questions, then?” the siren asked, “If you have a death wish, then who am I to stop you?”

Ranpo smiled wide, relishing in the siren’s palpable frustration. Frustration with his attitude, yes, but also his frustration at unintentionally falling into some sort of banter. Ranpo had to admit he was guilty of the same crime. “For now. Are you going to quiz me?”

“No,” it sat straighter against the rock, running its hand over some of its scales. Ranpo wanted to do the same. “I will tell you a story.” "

Something something cannibalism as a metaphor for love something something Ranpo gets a hot fish boyfriend somethi

Ok but. This is a magical au where Ranpo is a prince and hears about a creature that has been killing ppl after an offer for a battle of wits. When Fukazawa specifically tells him not to investigate, he goes whoop whoop and goes and finds it himself. It disappears after their meeting and Ranpo spends the next 6 years being like wtf was that but whyd it leave :( before hearing another rumor about a creature offering a battle of wits just high tailing it there lmfao

[megidonitram]

Everyone's Running From Something

(ch. 5)

A Baldur's Gate 3 University Professor AU

Rating: M

Quick Summary: Astarion and Gale are two University English professors precariously mentoring a troubled 19-year-old and falling in love.

💖Main Pairing : BloodWeave,(Astarion/Gale) 💕Side Pairings: Shadowheart/Nocturne, Karlach/Dammon, Wyll/The Dark Urge, Tav/Tav 💔Past Pairings: Gale/Mystra, Astarion/Sebastian, Astarion/Tav

<=Previous Chapter | Master List | Ao3 | Next Chapter =>

**Please see Master List Entry for Full Content Warnings**

⏰Chapter Warning⏰

Mentions of Child Abuse | Discussion of a Past Suicide Attempt | Implied Eating Disorder

The first day of class was overcast. Astarion woke up at 5:30 am and ran through his usual morning routine: make the bed, hot shower, work out- Mondays were endurance days: planks, crunches, lunges, and a 2-mile run-, cold shower, get dressed, morning coffee- one sugar, one stevia, no cream.

The mornings were when Astarion missed Lydia the most- not necessarily the banal domestic conversation, but the commotion of her in his house. Her inscrutable taste in music and the sound of her knocking around in the kitchen filled the void of silence in a far more alive way than the soft whisper-drone of NPR. It was also harder to fall back into old habits when someone else was there watching him.

His phone buzzed as he was finishing his coffee.

Speak of the devil, and she shall appear.

L: Hey, probably a stupid question.

Her name was still in his phone the way she’d saved it when they first met, as ‘Lydia 🖤😈’ and Astarion thought, as he did every time she reached out for something, that he should probably change that before the wrong person saw it.

L: Is there a purple and white cabochon earring lying around your bedroom somewhere? L: The last time I can remember wearing them I ended up at yours.

Astarion picked up his phone and typed a reply.

A: I know I have one of your earrings in my car cupholder.

A: I keep meaning to get it back to you. I’ll send it along with Wyll if you’d like.

She replied a few minutes later.

L: Absolutely do not do that. L: I’ll just run by your office L: God. L: You’re going to make the kids think I’m having an affair.

 Astarion read the text and put his phone down, intending to end the conversation, but then something clicked in his mind.

A: Hey. A: You worked at a DSS to put yourself through medical school, didn’t you?

L: ooOOOoo

L: You must REALLY need something if you’re willing to admit that sports medicine is real medicine😏😏😏

A: Answer the question, Silverwarden. L: I did. L: But I was an admin not a coordinator, so my knowledge is limited L: You might be better off talking to Isobel

L: She’s very nice! I can introduce you if you’ve never met! A: I’m an English professor, I’ve met the ADA coordinator. A: I need your discretion. A: Can you tell me why a student’s mental health deferment might get rejected? L: Is this about Xenia? L: It’ll be easier to explain if you call me.

Astarion checked his watch before he clicked on her contact information to call her. The phone rang a few times before she picked up. He heard a squawking toddler and the last snatch of her previous conversation: ‘…It’s just a student thing… Alright, see you tonight. I love you.��

“Hello, Mr. Goodman! Are you going to Vemo me a dollar, or shall I?” Lydia had an unhurried lilting voice, with a touch of a southern accent that made her swallow her ‘o’s and ‘t’s.

“What?”

“It’s a- never mind!” she huffed. “Have you consumed a single piece of media produced in this century? You fucking crypt keeper.”

 “Sometimes I have to review Jenevelle’s assigned reading choices for appropriateness.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He could tell she was nodding the way she did when he missed her point. “‘And so I Anal Douche While Kesha’s ‘Praying’ Plays From My iPhone on Repeat,’ I remember. She scandalized half the football team with that one.”

“The American Football team could stand to get scandalized more,” Astarion replied. “How are your little brats doing?”

As if on cue, there was another toddler squeal in the background. “Ruby took her first steps last fall, and Clem’s learning how to crawl exceptionally early, but I suspect you don’t actually care.”

He didn’t dignify that with a response. “Why would the DSS reject Xenia’s deferment?”

“So that’s the thing: They wouldn’t. The DSS covers ADA accommodations for students with documented disabilities; a sudden injury would not be under their purview,” Lydia explained, putting on her lecture voice. “The decision to defer a student’s financial aid awards would go to the university’s finance board—I think? It may go to the board of directors.”

“That’s not what Raphael told me.” Astarion pressed his tongue against his canine until it started to sting.

“I know you're not going to like to hear this, but Raphael may genuinely not know,” and she was quite right; Astraion was going to be pissed if he found out he'd been bluffed into his current predicament. “Disability services is an incredibly complex field- both necessarily and unnecessarily so. It’s still pretty unusual for a student’s medical deferment to get rejected… Can I ask what your interest in this is?”

“I’ve found a channel to contest the decision, but I want to make sure it’s at least a somewhat viable option before I drag Xenia into more bureaucracy.”

“hmm… I knew you two would get along.” Lydia replied, quite satisfied with herself. “You have a very similar energy.”

Astarion sighed. He knew someone had referred Xenia to his sophomore survey class last semester; he'd just never figured out who. “I suppose we both have that ‘father used to beat me’ twinkle in our eyes.”

“Don’t put those words in my mouth!” Lydia exclaimed. “I meant you both have a similar…” She groped for the right words, “…surviverly quality about yourselves.”

“Will to survive?” Astarion corrected her.

“Whatever!” She snapped.

“Do you know why Xenia might have been rejected?”

“Speculatively?” Lydia asked.

“No, I’m asking you to read someone’s mind.” Astarion quipped.

“I answered your call in front of my husband for this, you know?”

Astarion sighed again. “If he’s not comfortable with you talking to your exes, he probably should not have married someone who fucked their coworker.”

“Do you want my help, or did you call me just to snipe?”

“Fine… please speculate. Why would someone’s medical deferment be rejected?”

“Well, if I had to guess… Xenia was sort of a high-profile get for the university. And given her history, I think it’s pretty safe to say that incident-” she paused as if she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say the next part. “-I think that incident last fall was probably a suicide attempt.”

There was a beat of grim silence. When the news came down, everyone had made that assumption, but no one was brave enough to put words to the thought.

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment. “So, you think the school rejected her medical deferment over bad publicity?”

“I think it would turn into a massive media circus if that got out, yes,” Lydia replied. “They may be trying to push her into dropping out.”

“Do you think it’s worth it to challenge?” Astarion asked.

“I don’t know,” Lydia sighed. “At the very least, it would probably be good to have as a precedent if she ends up having to sue the school… You could always just ask her what she wants to do. Poor kid might be too tired for all of this.” 

“Fair.” Astarion pondered her words for a moment.

“Can I help you with anything else?” She asked.

“That’s all for now,” Astarion replied. “…Thank you, by the way. You don’t have to stick your neck out for me anymore, you know?”

“I know,” Lydia replied. “I did this because I wanted to. You’re still my friend -despite everything, I care about you.”

She hung up. Astarion’s phone screen went black. The house was silent again.

***

Gale got stuck in horrible traffic on his first day and ended up arriving 30 minutes late for his morning office hours. He skipped past dropping his lunch off in the breakroom fridge and rushed straight to the office, absolutely mortified that he was so late for his first proper day of class. He was so frazzled he had to double back to grab his coffee from the car.

It wasn’t like there would be anyone there waiting on him- a grand total of one student who knew who he was-, but it certainly made a bad impression to show up late on the first day of class.

Astarion was both bemused and incredibly entertained as he watched Gale flit around their office like a very flustered tornado, trying to cram one hour of planning into the thirty minutes he had remaining.

“You’re going to be fine.” Astarion had assured him. “It’s syllabus week, no one’s expecting Judith Buttler.”

Gale still left for his class 10 minutes early -just in case his classroom had teleported to a different dimension since he last visited it. It hadn’t. It turned out the room was exactly where he’d left it at the end of a strange little corridor in the library, and in fact, there were already two students waiting for him.

Xenia sat near the back of the classroom, wearing the facial expression of a kitten that was being petted too hard, as a pinch-faced, red-headed young woman combed her fingers through the knots in her hair.

“I can’t believe you’re not embarrassed to go out in public looking like this.” The pinch-faced woman scolded.

“It’s ha-ard to brush my hair with my non-dominant hand…” Xenia’s eyes bulged out of her head as the woman pulled her fingers through a particularly difficult knot.

“Chk. I’ll put it in a braid then, so you aren’t struggling to brush it.”  She started dividing Xenia’s dark hair into sections no more gently than she’d detangled it.

“Hello Xenia, It’s good to see you again. How are you doing?” Gale asked as he set his satchel down behind the podium.

“Oh, I’ve been worse… I’ve also been better- Lae’zel, that hurts!”  She squealed as the pinched-faced woman, Lae’zel apparently, tugged the braid tight.

“Then sit still so it will end faster.” Lae’zel scolded her. “I have younger siblings that squirm less than you, and they’re still in diapers.”

“I guess you’ll have to work on instilling more terror in my heart then,” Xenia replied. She gripped the edges of her desk with white knuckles as Lae’zel wrenched her head back.

Lae’zel hummed as if that was a legitimate suggestion. “Yes, I think we would have a much stronger working relationship if you feared me just a little more…”

Lae’zel finally let go of Xenia, who let out a breath like she’d narrowly avoided being hit by a bus as she pulled a few face-framing pieces from the clutches of her new French braid. Lae'zel turned her sights on Gale- though he desperately hoped it wasn't because she was planning on braiding his hair, too. “You must be the new English adjunct.”

“Yes, I’m Dr. Dekarios!” Gale replied. “You must be Lae’zel? The athletic director speaks very highly of you.”

“As he should.” Lae’zel nodded like he’d just given her the correct answer in an oral exam. “You should know that I designed to take this course this semester because I thought it would be taught by Dr. Ancunín rather than Dr. Shadowheart. I will be quite displeased with you if your teaching methods are as frivolous and unstructured as Shadowheart’s.”

Xenia’s eyes went wide, and her mouth formed a silent ‘Oh’ sound as she looked back and forth between Gale and Lae’zel.

“I can’t say that I’ve ever had the pleasure of watching Dr. Shadowheart teach, so I don't know how our teaching methods compare, but I will not deign to be frivolous or unstructured.” Gale laughed nervously.

“I think she is perfectly competent as a professor of literature, but she does quite poorly with the more structured elements of the genera. Dr. Ancunín does not fare much better, but he is preferable to Shadowheart.” Lae’zel explained as if Gale had genuinely asked her option. “You should know that thus far, you have not made a positive impression on me… you were quite late posting the syllabus.”

“My apologies, Lae’zel,” Gale replied, hand on heart. “I got let into my faculty account one week before the semester began.”

“Hm, yes.” Lae’zel considered his response. “This school does have abysmal technical support, so I shall let it slide this time.”

By that time, a few more students had filed in, and it was about time for class to start- or Gale was desperate not to hear any more unsolicited criticism of his colleagues. Astarion was right. The class went perfectly fine. He explained the structure of the course, and had everyone introduce themselves and state their major (he found out Xenia was there because she was a phycology major), before he explained the purpose of taking an upper level grammar and style.

“The purpose of learning advanced grammar is not to improve your everyday language… If the person you are talking to understands what you are saying, then there is nothing wrong with your grammar… Language should evolve to fit the speaker, the speaker should not evolve to fit the language… However, if you are going into a field like law or communication where you’ll be expected to use very precise language…”

It went by in a flash, and Gale could hardly remember if he got everything that he needed to into the lecture by the time class ended, but if anyone was unclear about anything, they didn’t let him know at the moment. He barely registers Xenia darting out of the room before he finishes saying, “Have a nice rest of your day.” A few people lingered to give him the heads up about things in their personal lives that might interfere with class, and one student wanted to know if he’d receive their letter of accommodation, but before long, there was a small congregation of people forming at the door waiting for Gale to leave so the next class can take over the space.

He walked back to his office with a spring in his step. He didn’t even mind that much when it started to pour rain, and he realized he had forgotten his umbrella in the car.

***

It wasn’t much dryer in the humanities building. Gale dodged around liner-less trash bins set up under bulging ceiling tiles dotting the hallway. In the break room, Karlach was holding a bookcase steady so Shadowheart could climb on top of it.

Gale paused and walked back to the breakroom to make sure he saw that right.

He did.

“Do you… need help with something?” he asked sheepishly.

“Nope, I think we’ve got it!” Karlach replied, ducking out of the way of one of Shadowheart’s heels. “Water pools in AC vents when it rains, so we have to bang on them a couple of times to make sure it doesn’t collapse.”

“O-oh?” Gale looked up and realized one of the panels of the overhead duct was swelling dangerously. “Shouldn’t we put in a work order?”

“Be my guest,” Shadowheart said. She precariously balanced on her knees, and Gale held his breath as the bookshelf wobbled underneath her. “But maintenance won’t get to it before the break room floods.”

She reached up and banged on the ductwork above her head, and the vent in the middle of the room started dribbling yellowish-brown water. Suddenly, there was a strange gurgling noise, then a thunk! as the panel popped back into proper shape.

“Great work, Jen!” Karlach whooped, holding out a hand to help Shadowheart jump down. They high-fived, and Shadowheart went about smoothing out her clothes, grumbling under her breath when she realized there was a massive run in her tights.

“This kind of thing happen often?” Gale asked.

“Only when it rains!” Karlach chirped. She checked her watch and immediately started towards the door. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to get to my day job.” She gave Gale a friendly pat on the shoulder as she passed him. “If the vents start to flood again, it’s your and fancy pants’ turn to fix it!”

“I don’t know if that bookshelf will support either of our weights…” Gale balked.

“Not with that attitude, soldier!” Karlach called as the stairwell door swung closed behind her.

“You can poke it with a handle broom until it corrects; it just takes longer,” Shadowheart assured him. “I’ve got to go switch tights before I get to my next class. I don’t know if you’ve had the displeasure of meeting her yet, but God forbid Lae’zel catches me with a run in my pantyhose.”

“Oh, so she does talk like that to your face then?” Gale replied. “I didn’t know if I should-”

“Talks like what- never mind, don’t tell me!” Shadowheart huffed. “I swear, after everything I’ve done for that girl- I’ll talk to you later!” She turned on her heels and followed Karlach up the stairs.

Gale sighed in relief, ready to hold up in his office for a little while. He reached into the front pocket of his satchel for his keys only to find it empty. Cursing under his breath, he thumbed through the things in the main pocket, hoping he’d accidentally mixed them in with everything else- nothing. Finally, he pulled out his phone only to find a series of texts from Astarion.

A: You left your keys.

Then, a little while later.

A: I’m going to be out of office when you get back. A: Ask Mizora on the second floor for the spare key, good luck.

[lizzylucky]

Thoughts and Observations From The Movie, Part 2/4

Welcome to part two of the silly things and fun details I picked out from the Rise movie!

My sister and I often pause the movie here to reread the options on this whiteboard for destroying the key, and it never fails to make us laugh. My one question: when and how did they test Donnie’s stomach? He wasn’t even there!

Also, feels like a callback to TummyTello, somehow. It also leaves me wondering why Donnie’s Stomach was an actual idea for destruction, regardless of whether it involves TummyTello. Guy must eat some crazy stuff XD

Further content below the cut!

“So… You’re Running Out of Ideas.” by Syr E. Piphany.

Okay, okay, bear with me- I actually have a little theory for this one.  This is a screenshot from when Leo asks Donnie to locate Raph. Donnie tells him that Raph is practically- and then that he actually IS- on top of them. What I noticed here is that on this visual locator he has, none of the little character icons are oriented the same way their real life counterparts are. All six characters are in the same area and standing pretty close to each other, and I would assume that, kinda like google location sharing or snapchat location maps, you have to zoom in further on the map to get more specific locations.

This kinda sounds like it’s going nowhere, but what I’m getting at is the idea that when multiple people are in the same location, given that we know the icons will not be oriented perfectly to the people they represent, they’ll probably appear in the same orientation every time. 

Which would mean!! that Donnie has intentionally designed his tracker app to have icons show up with this orientation when people are close together, furthermore meaning that he chose to put his big brother in the center of them all on purpose. As an artist myself, this could be coincidental, but very rarely are things like this done without purpose, and I like to imagine it’s a subtle way to represent Donnie thinking the absolute world of his big brother; that he would turn to Raph for guidance even before Splinter, whose icon is on the other side of the circle from Donnie’s. 

I also love that the icons for Donnie’s best friend and Donnie’s “twin” are on either side of his.

And, as one last afterthought, I think this could also be a subtle nod to how Raph’s krangification becomes the center of the story and main motivator for all the characters for a huge chunk of the movie.

Does ANYONE ELSE SEE THIS?????

That absolutely looks like a masked face in the biogrowth at the top of this building. In truth, it actually looks a lot more like one of the paper ninjas than it does the Shredder, but the similarities are still there, and it works as further evidence that the Shredder and the goals of the Foot Clan were all hinged around the Krang.

Is anyone else floored by the size of this skull that Krang 1 or whatever is sitting on? I always would forget about it pretty immediately given Leo’s cheeky “surprise!” here, but this thing looks like the head of a freakin’ dragon or something. I wonder what it is? And how it got to, let alone died in, the technodrome.

 One genuinely non-serious theory my sister and I occasionally talk about is the idea that the technodrome is actually a massive egg, and this was the incomplete embryo of whatever it would have become. Further non-serious evidence, which can be seen in the next images, is that the technodrome, in spite of being extremely technologically advanced, is clearly… alive, not just pure tech. Actually, everything the Krang use seems to be bio-mechanical in nature, to some degree.

It will probably be made pretty clear here that Donnie is my favourite character, just a fair warning XD But man I love this scene- one, because of the Autism-ADHD solidarity shown between PB&J immediately previous, and, two, because it’s actually a seriously incredible show of strength from Donnie. 

Many fans of Rise, and of Donnie especially, also have Autism (like Donnie is confirmed to have) and/or ADHD (including myself) and understand that sensory issues mixed with New Things You Don’t Understand can be absolute hell. Like, ruins your day, renders you inactive, unfocused, nonverbal, made to be a shaking ball of anxiety, hell. Not always, but the point still stands.

Additionally, and as much as I am all for Donnie’s softshell not being seen as a big weakness because it’s natural and still more protection than any normal person has (not to mention the advantages it offers him in terms of swimming and flexibility (also probably feels really nice for scritches and sleep piles)), it actually does seem a relevant point here that this is, technically speaking, the most vulnerable part of Donnie’s body. So actively choosing to expose it to an unfamiliar and highly advanced, invasive and living technology on top of the difficulties that come with the above described neurodivergent tendencies goes against his nature in so, so many ways, but he does it anyway. 

Mikey being worried about his vulnerability here, in spite of feeling out of place before, makes a lot more sense from this perspective. Knowing all that, honestly-- it just never fails to impress me.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[lostinfantasyworlds]

For the writers truth and dare game 😁

🪲,🍄,🪐

Hi Liz!!! Thank you so much for the asks!!! ❤️ 😁 🥰

🪲 ⇢ add 50 words to your current wip and share the paragraph here

I'm so bad at coming up with stuff on the spot so I'm going to cheat a little and use something I jotted down last night (which is probably more than 50 words 😆). This is for my main WIP, which I have talked about before but am not going to name so I can be all secretive and mysterious🤣: ------- "Do you have any informants in Hawaii?" Inuyasha asked.

Miroku seemed taken aback, but recovered quickly. "Actually, yes. One of my oldest confidants, Hachi, spends most of his time island-hopping. Why?"

"Could you -- Is there any chance he could -- Or you could ask --"

"Aw, are you trying to ask me for a favor?" His stupid blue eyes lit up like a child, and Inuyasha's hands balled into fists. "This must be important. You can do it, use your words."

Fuming, Inuyasha's cheeks burned, which he covered up by punching his annoying partner in the arm. He so badly wanted to tell him to forget it, since Miroku was pretty much insufferable when gloating. But since this was likely his only shot to help Kagome while they were gone, he took a deep breath and swallowed his pride.

"Do you think you could ask him to keep an eye on someone for me?"

"Stalking, huh? I didn't take you as the type."

"Fucking what -- no! I just...need to know she's safe. Alive. Nothing more than that."

"Oooh...she? This keeps getting better!"

Inuyasha's eye twitched, calling on every last bit of restraint he possessed not to knock the shit-eating grin off of Miroku's stupid face.

"Can you do that for me or not?" he ground out.

Miroku seemed to realize just how close he was to getting his ass beat, because his expression turned serious. "You just want a visual confirmation of safety?" Inuyasha nodded. "How often?"

"Whenever he can manage it...once a week, every few days, whatever."

"I believe that can be arranged. I'll ask him...on one condition."

"For fuck's sake, what?"

"That you tell me what the deal is with you and this woman."

Inuyasha rolled his eyes. "Why are you like this?"

🍄 ⇢ share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

I feel like Inuyasha and Kagome would probably move pretty fast in their relationship once she returned through the well. I imagine them being engaged and making out all over the place within the first few weeks. After all that time apart thinking they'd never see each other again, and since Kagome's decision to return is the ultimate show of commitment anyways, I think they'd want to make up for lost time and just go for it. That being said, I don't imagine them having sex the same day she comes through the well or anything like that. But I also don't think it'd take them a really long time to cross all of those milestones off their list. Somewhere in the middle, like a few weeks to maybe a couple months. I love reading fics that explore all of the different possibilities though, and can get behind almost any explanation/head canon.

🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

Work is slower than it's ever been at the moment, to the point where I have had days and days of absolutely nothing to do while working at home and still getting paid (I'm salaried). My bosses have shockingly not tried to give me any busy work (there really isn't much else to do since our work is entirely project-based), so I've had a lot of time to catch up on my life and do fun things lately. It is the ultimate luxury and very rare, so I'm soaking it up while I can because once things get busy again my entire life will go back to revolving around my stupid job.

My mental health has finally reached a stable place, and I've been feeling pretty good overall. After years of depression and anxiety, it's a huge relief to feel back on solid ground again.

Our house is coming together slowly but surely. We are just about to paint the room we're currently renovating, and then just have to do flooring and we'll have another space finished and ready to use!

I have a lot to be grateful for right now, things are good 🥰

Thank you again for the asks!

From the Writer's Truth & Dare Ask Game

[frogofalltime]

10.02.2024

despite going to bed at 5:30am after dancing all night with my friends, i woke up at 11:30am feeling pretty normal and alive, i didn't have a headache and even my legs didn't hurt much even after so much jumping around ?? so that was really good and unexpected !! maybe i am built for the Normal Young Person Lifestyle after all (lying)

i wasted time on my phone for a while, then made myself some food and ate it, got washed and dressed, did my prayers, etc.

by now i was very tired so i wanted to take a nap. but my brain kept asking weird questions which led to me having a conversation with robin because i could not sleep until i knew the answers lmao

my friends were going to go to ikea in the evening and i wanted to join them just because ikea is fun, but in the end they didn't go, which was fine because i needed to do my grocery shopping anyway. i was hungry so i made myself some dinner and ate it while watching youtube.

then i got a call from my mother. in the beginning i assumed she just wanted to chat because my dad had gone out with his brother and she was home alone and bored. but then she started talking about how one of my aunts saw an instagram post i made for me and @etherealspacejelly 's anniversary and started asking questions and now everyone thinks i'm a lesbian (i haven't come out as aroace or trans to anyone in my family except for a different aunt and also my brother and cousins. so i guess to everyone else it does look that way, in hindsight. but i had completely forgotten they followed me because i have been in a bubble of queer / supportive friends and i guess i forgot that the real world and especially my family is very homophobic)

i reassured my mother that i am definitely not a lesbian and our relationship is absolutely a platonic one and she said she can understand that but she is sure my family will not, especially if the news reaches my dad, because he "sees everything in black and white" and will "go mad" and "blame it all on me for not raising you properly". i suggested that i could message my aunts and explain but she told me not to do that unless any of them explicitly asked me about it. but she said i must be careful in the future because this kind of thing is a huge taboo in my family and our religion.

she also kept saying that my dad loves me and that i mean the world to him and he just doesn't know how to show it because he goes into Parent Mode around me and my brother so whenever we see him the atmosphere is super aggressive and tense. and i know i can't blame him for being like that, im sure he's neurodivergent since i mustve inherited autism and adhd from somewhere, but it's still annoying that she brought that up straight after saying what basically felt like a threat that i have to hide everything from my dad forever otherwise the world will explode :/

i got very upset and cried for a while and asked robin for advice. then i forced myself to get out of my room and go grocery shopping before the store closed at 10pm, and i blasted my ears with emo music because that helps whenever i have Family Drama lmao (yea i'm cringe this is tumblr what did you expect)

i put my groceries away and brought robin the stuff i had picked up at the store for him. then we hung out for a bit, some of our other friends were there too for a while, i enjoyed listening to robin talk about star trek and queer anthems, and by the time i went home i was feeling much better.

unfortunately when i got back to my room i realised i had started my period and this always makes me very dysphoric (as well as being physically painful and making my emotions much more intense). but i dealt with it, and made myself a nice snack to eat before bed, because i was very hungry, i hadn't eaten much today, and i deserved it.

i'm going to try to get to bed earlier than 5:30am tonight, it's already almost 1am though so wish me luck lol :')

[survival-and-magic]

Dear Winifred

Dear Winifred, the letter started.

I want to preface this letter with the assertion that having you as my lab assistant has been a greater success than even I’d anticipated when I’d offered you the position. You have been an asset to this household and to my pursuit of science. I tell you this - which you surely already know - to make clear that my motivations were never to deceive you, and that your company here would be sorely missed should you ever decide to pursue employment elsewhere.

However, I have not been entirely truthful with you, and I find it difficult to admit this. The longer you stay under my employ, the more I fear my confession will feel backhanded. This is not my intention.

You told me things, caught up in the fever of the shadows in that wretched world, that you may not remember - things that I have shamefully neglected to confront you about for fear you would have rather me not known of your old life. 

Despite your reluctance to talk about that time, I know about Salem, and your previous home there, and the witch hunt. I understand the time you’ve come from and the time you ended up in are very different. I assure you, Miss Winifred, that when I offered you the position, it was from a genuine place of wanting you to have some place to call home, even just for a transient period. I never meant to take advantage of your delirium for this long, and my offer was not made out of an obligation of pity.

Despite this transgression of mine, I must stress that you’ve achieved what I once thought impossible and impractical, and have become an essential fixture of the Higgsbury household. I would be immensely disconsolate if you should choose to leave due to these new circumstances.

Yours,

Wilson P. Higgsbury.

He read over the letter one last time. That was really as good as it was going to get, wasn’t it, he thought miserably. He’d been holed up in the attic for hours, trying to pen a respectable letter that might manage to communicate the nuances of his absolutely crippling embarrassment. He’d let this go on for far too long, keeping secrets from her like this, and now that he’d finally decided to bite the bullet and tell her, he was finding it immensely difficult.

With a dissatisfied little grumble, Wilson crumpled up this newest draft of his letter, watching it patter innocently across his workbench as he tossed it down. It just sat there, mocking him.

The worst of it was knowing it was all his own damn fault - he’d waited far too long to face the music. He should have told her before they even left that wretched world. He remembered asking her if she remembered what it was she’d told him, and she’d said she hadn’t a clue.

“I hope it wasn’t anything too terribly important,” she’d told him.

“No, I wouldn’t say it was,” he’d lied. 

And now here he was, paying the price for it. There was no precise formula of words that would make his offer of her position seem genuine - nothing he could say that would assuage the frustration and betrayal she would rightfully feel. He’d kept it such a secret all this time because he didn’t want her to feel that he’d brought her in like some stray animal. She was his compatriot! They’d weathered the misery of Maxwell’s world together, they’d escaped together, and he would be a poor excuse for a friend and a gentleman if he’d turned her out knowing full well she’d had nowhere to go. 

He pushed himself away from his desk, sighing heavily as he contemplated the rather sticky situation he’d gotten himself in. He could just keep his mouth shut - but she was so earnest, and he was doing her a great disservice by keeping this secret to himself. Quite frankly, it had been eating him alive since the moment the offer of the position had tumbled out of his mouth. For someone so smart, that had been an incredibly stupid, foolish, impulsive thing to do.

But he’d do it again.

Hesitant hands clicked off the electric lamp that illuminated his desk. Winnie was probably already asleep downstairs, and despite the stress gnawing at the back of his mind, he figured it was about time for him to retire as well. Maybe a good night’s sleep would help him figure out this mess. He would sleep on it, and decide in the morning when he returned from town.

As benign darkness consumed his attic laboratory, Wilson eased himself down the ladder and into the hallway of the second floor of their old, remote home in the woods.

Maybe he would bring Winnie home something for her garden, tomorrow. Just, you know... as insurance. A little gift, to soften the blow of his lengthy and calculated betrayal.

Right.

“Mr. Higgsbury!” Winnie called, scaling the ladder to the upstairs laboratory that he so often squirreled himself away in; more than one quiet morning she’d found him up here. It wasn’t unusual for him to have worked through the night or woken up in the wee small hours of the morning to power through to his next great scientific break through. “Breakfast’s on, sir - your eggs are going to get cold if... you... ah, blast,” she muttered, cresting the top of the ladder.

Looks like her scientist had slipped out early this morning.

The witch hoisted herself up past the last rung, exiting the little trap door set in the floor, and dusting off her apron as she tsked. He always left such a mess when he was working in a frenzy. He called it organized chaos, but Winnie was of the mind that if your organized chaos couldn’t stay organized, then it was just chaos.

He must have been working on some theoreticals, she thought to herself. The floor was littered with discarded papers, each one balled up into a frustrated wad of parchment. She snatched up the waste bin and began collecting them one by one from the floor around his work desk. No wonder he’d taken off so early that morning - he was probably frustrated with something or other he was working on, eager to get into town, get back, and figure out whatever scientific conundrum was puzzling him.

With the papers picked up and the workspace tidied up a bit, Winifred placed the waste bin on top of his desk, reaching for the last crumpled paper. She felt she never would really understand Mr. Higgsbury’s science, but that never stopped her from taking a genuine interest in his work. She didn’t understand a lick of what he tried to explain to her, but just watching his enthusiasm was more than enough for her.

She smiled gently at the thought of the countless times he’s begged her audience in the attic, rattling on about something she didn’t understand in the slightest, and smoothed out the last crumpled paper he’d discarded in hopes of gleaning some meaning she could use to impress him once he finally shared his breakthrough with her.

Winifred stood there in the still silence of the attic lit by morning light, and read his discarded work.

Wilson arrived back home at half-past four that afternoon, marveling at just how long his trip into town had taken him this week, and quietly ignoring the very obvious fact that he’d intentionally dragged it out as long as his dignity would allow him.

It was their usual fanfare when he returned home; Winifred would greet him cheerfully, telling him he was just in time for tea. She would sit him down and busy herself with cups and spoons and sugar while she asked if anything interesting happened.

“As it happens,” he said, trying to quell the nervous quiver to his voice. She would surely notice that something was amiss. He cleared his throat, and produced an odd package that looked a little like an egg carton. It smelled strongly of earth - good quality soil and the rich scent of new life within. “I did meet a fellow this morning who was selling some beautiful specimens. I believe you... mentioned having a garden, back home?” He tested the waters, watching her expression for any hint of sourness or discomfort. There didn’t seem to be anything amiss; she simply poured his tea, listening with a pleasant, perfect smile. “They’re red tulips,” he managed, nervously. “Or, so I’m told, at least.”

She set the tea tray on the table before him, peering over his shoulder at the six bulbs neatly arranged in their casing. A hand lighted upon his shoulder, and he felt a cold dread spill through him. He had to tell her. He had to. His leg bounced underneath the table as she examined the bulbs.

“Oh, they’re lovely, Mr. Higgsbury,” she beams, “I’ve always loved the tulips - this is just the thing to brighten our garden out back! I ought to get these in the dirt proper, sir,” she told him, scooping up the carton.

Wilson caught her by the arm - another poor, impulsive choice, as it nearly sent her new bulbs tumbling to the floor with the sudden jolt he gave her. “Actually, Winnie - Winnie, Winifred,” he said sharply, hoping the use of her full name would catch her attention. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to speak to you about - if you have a minute.”

Winnie didn’t have much of a choice but to stop, with the grip he’d gabbed her with. She turned towards him, looking quizzically down at the nervy, jumpy man who had once faced death and dark forces, and who had finally gathered up the courage to set the record straight on a little white lie he’d told years ago.

“My duzzy scientist,” she chuckled, shaking her head with a soft, bemused smile. She leaned forward and pressed a reassuring little kiss to his forehead. “I already know. Now drink your tea, sir, before it goes cold.” 

He sat there, struck as she took the bulbs to go plant out back, humming a delicate melody as she went. His throat was terribly dry, and he was so clammy it felt like a fever was trying to wrack his body. He turned his gaze back to the cup of tea she had poured for him, his breath leaving him at the sight.

Tucked beneath his teacup was a slip of paper. And despite the care that Winnie had clearly gone through to fold it nicely, he could still see the creases from where he’d crumpled it up the night before. 

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Rivals - 5

Writer: Akira

Season: Winter

Characters: Hiyori, Jun

Proofreading: moricchiichan (JP) & hyenahunt (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Jun: And y'know, it makes me wonder... is it really okay for me to be so lucky?

Location: Reimei Academy Dormitory

Time: That evening, the same day

Hiyori: Jun-kun, I'm home!

Would you just listen to this~! Goodness knows when, but at some point they set a rule that residents are to wear standardised roomwear while in our dorms!

I took all that trouble to dress up and everything, but they forced me to change!

Those high-and-mighty bigshots certainly love enforcing such pointless rules, don't they~ Perhaps they can’t quite relax unless they have us children bound up in their regulations.

Hiyori: ...Whoopsy-daisy! Ahaha, hello to you too, Bloody Mary ☆

Come, come, come to me! What a spoiled little pup you are, my sweet, blood-stained Mary!

Fufufu~ Jun-kun, perhaps you should learn a thing or two about being loveable from her!

Jun: ......

Hiyori: What's this, have you nothing to say?

Any other time, you'd be all, "Don't call her name so loudly, she's supposed to be a secret!" or like, "Just where have you been off to until this time of night?" So on and so forth.

It's starting to make you sound rather like a possessive husband, you know?

Jun: ......

Hiyori: Whoa, what’s the matter, Mary? You won't find a scrap of food inside this paper bag, so don’t go poking your nose in!

Jun-kuuun, don’t tell me you’ve forgotten to present our dearest Queen with her most scrumptious feast?

What an absolute goose you are! Oh, my poor, poor Mary! I’ll fill your bowl to the brim right away~♪

Jun: ... I just fed her 'bout an hour ago, so please don’t give her any more food, ‘kay~?

Dogs will eat every last crumb they're fed, so we’ve gotta take care of just how much food we give ‘em.

Hiyori: Ah, alive, were you? Then you should have at least said something — It isn't as though I'm asking you to wag your tail ♪

Jun: ... Sorry. As you can see, it's a lil' hard to talk in this state.

Hiyori: Nn? I had no idea as my eyes were on our lovely little Mary this entire time, but what are you doing, Jun-kun? A new religious ritual of sorts?

Jun: ... Sit-ups.

Hiyori: Whatever for? Jun-kun, you’re almost excessively buff the way you are already. Wouldn’t gaining any more muscle only work against you by slowing your movements?

People tend to expect femininity out of us as Eve, so I do believe it’s undesirable to bulk out our bodies too much.

Don’t you agree, Mary~? Kiss, kiss ♪

Jun: ... Couldja brush your teeth before kissing her? Mary's gonna catch something from you.

Hiyori: Ah, that's the most hurtful comment of the century! I’ve already taken care of my teeth and all other cleanliness matters before I got here, so I'd rather you refrain from any statements implying I'm dirty, yes?

But well, Mary is indeed rather frail... We truly must treat her with care.

Yes, yes, how it delights me so to know you cherish her in your own way, Jun-kun.

Jun: Well, I gotta fulfill my duties as one of her owners, yeah~? And we've got a little bond going on by being in the care of the same dumbass... Whew.

Huff. I tripled my workout routine just ‘cause today’s a day-off, but that might’ve been a kinda dumbass move.

I've strained my muscles and now I'm sore all over~ Well, I've got no one to blame but myself.

Hiyori: You've got that right. I do wish you’d stop training inside our room — you stink it right up with your sweat.

Jun: And you keep filling the room up with fragrances without asking me, so we're even.

On that note, didn’t we agree to not complain 'bout any inevitable sounds or smells from each other?

Hiyori: True, but you ought to let me complain, at the very least. That’s the secret to stress-free room-sharing.

There is nothing good about letting frustrations grow pent-up, really.

Jun: You've got a comeback for everything, huh... Geez, I just can’t win any argument with you.

Hiyori: Ahaha. In fact, is there anything in which you can win against me?

Jun: Um, whuh~? How much muscle I've got, I guess...?

Hiyori: Is there nothing else you have to be proud of? Wait, don't tell me... did you spend our long-awaited day-off just shutting yourself in, Jun-kun?

Hiyori: No, no, that simply won't do! You must soak up a little more sunshine! I mean, you’ve been so gloomy lately, Jun-kun — at this rate, you’ll wake up being covered in moss one day!

Jun: Hmph. I can’t run around grinning my head off all day long the way you can, y’know~?

Hiyori: Anyone and everyone can still put on a smile at any time, no? That's the strength of humanity, and precisely what makes it so precious.

Well, I can certainly understand why you’d be frowning, of course.

After all, you're soon to finally realize your greatest wish, of facing off against your arch-nemesis... Sagami-sensei.

But that being said, it's not like you're out to kill each other, either — if you don't soften your features a little you'll scare our fans, you see! Everything depends on your pretty smile when you're an idol... ☆

Jun: ... that’s actually not the reason I’m looking glum. In fact, I’m feeling more happy and refreshed than anything else over getting to fight Sagami Jin.

But things’ve been looking pretty dark around CosPro recently, y’know?

Some of my old peers have quit, and they're the ones who strived together with me back when I was at the bottom of the barrel with them.

Yet I'm the only one who gets to grasp glory in comfort as a member of Eden — and now, I'm even getting the chance to face off against the target of my revenge...

Jun: And y'know, it makes me wonder... is it really okay for me to be so lucky?

Hiyori: Fufu. There’s no need to feel guilty over the blessings and happiness you have.

In fact, if you've come to realize what a fortunate position you're in, you ought to offer a loving hand of kindness to those in trouble and hardships.

Jun: Seriously? Is that the noblesse oblige thing you love going on about~?

Hiyori: It is indeed. Love and happiness are the sweetest of fruits that one can never get enough of, but if you feel you’ve been bestowed with too many, then you can share them with others.

We can’t do anything about those who've lost hope and quit, but there are still people suffering a living hell, unable to escape from CosPro no matter how much they may wish for it.

And as Eden, there must be something we can do for them.

After all, Ibara has been replacing the executives as he steadily comes to power, and we’re becoming the face of CosPro both in name and reality.

If our people are tormented and struggling through such painful hardships, then it is the duty of us nobles to show them compassion and guide them to salvation. No — we have the duty to protect them...

It is for that reason they pay the taxes that allow us our comfortable lives, after all.

If exploiting the people is all we’re good for then, why, our heads ought to roll. But being idols is our life's calling... so we can’t just let things end here, can we?

No, it is far too soon for us to ascend to Heaven where our God resides ♪

✦✦✦✦✦

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