#i’ll just be down here

[cookiescribble]

I’m The Only One Who Touches You

A/N: This one kinda got away from me, ngl 😅 I’ve been sitting on it for a while. enjoy anyway, though! sorry we've kinda been on hiatus <3 - Mod Ghost

Summary: You and Spencer had decided some quality time with the team could do you both some good, but some jerk has other ideas

TW: sexual harassment, alcohol/drinking, pre-T/ top or bottom surgery body, misgendering

After some discussion between us and the team, Spencer and I agreed to go out that night with the rest of the team to a bar that Rossi wanted to show us.

“Do we really have to go? I…I really don’t want to be inside of a bar tonight, let alone at all,” Spence asked softly, coming up behind me as I brushed my teeth and wrapped his arms around my waist as he dropped his head on top of mine. He looked into my eyes in the mirror, and I could see the puppy dog pout that he had on.

“We already agreed to go, and we won’t have to be there for long. Just enough to say hello and make it seem like we’re personable people.” I spit into the sink then turn around in his arms to hug him back as I speak, rubbing his back. “Plus, if it gets really bad, we can have a secret signal. Just for you to say ‘hey, I hate it here, let’s leave please.’ Okay? While we’re there, you can just tap my elbow three times. Like this.” I reach around and tap his elbow three times to show him then he nods.

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s head out then, the rest of the team should either already be there or will be there soon.” Spence chuckled softly, taking my hand and leading me out of the bathroom then out of the apartment.

Once we got there, Spencer seemed to be a bit more at ease, comfortable in his own skin. He was talking with JJ and Garcia as I was getting some more drinks, soda for Spence and myself while the girls were getting alcohol.

“Another of whatever this pretty lady is getting for me, please.” A man spoke up from next to me, putting his hand on my shoulder.

The bartender went about making all the drinks as I looked at this mystery man. He was taller than me and was looking at me with a rather smug face.

“I’m not sure who you think you’re talking to, or why you’d want four drinks for yourself.” I tried to move his hand off my shoulder but he kept it there, which made my discomfort levels skyrocket. I looked around for Spencer but couldn’t see him, which is when this guy finally moved his hand, but he grabbed my chin instead of keeping it away as if he was trying to get my attention back.

“You bought four drinks, huh? Someone’s got a bit of an alcohol problem,” he said with a cocky sneer, leaning in closer so I could smell all the alcohol he’d been drinking.

“You have about 5 seconds to get off me before I make you,” I threatened, trying to pull away from him which only made him yank me closer with his hand trailing down my side. “Hey—“

All I felt was this guy suddenly getting dragged off of me and before I knew what was happening, he was pinned down against the bar.

“When my boyfriend tells you something, you listen. Do you understand me?” The man holding this guy down, who I quickly realized was Spence, growled close to this asshole’s ear. It made him nod nervously. “Good. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

The mystery pervert was up and out of sight before either of us could say anything else, which was when Spencer turned to face me. His entire demeanor changed now, his expression soft as he reached out to me.

“Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?” Before he could even finish his sentence, I was burying myself in his arms. “Hey, what happened?? What did he do that I didn’t see?”

“Nothing, Spence, I promise. I’m just…really glad you showed up..” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. He rubbed my back slowly as he hugged me tight.

“Alright, it’s okay. I’m going to take you home, let’s go tell the others we’re leaving and then we’ll be out of here,” he whispered back as he leaned in close to my ear, leading me back over to where everyone was standing to politely tell them we were leaving.

“Hey, we’re uh, we’re gonna head home,” Spencer announced, his arm tightly wrapped around my shoulders.

“Aw, already?” Complained Penelope, but then I assumed she saw the look on my face because I saw her demeanor turn concerned. “What happened? Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine, I’m just tired. We’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He didn’t wait for anyone else to say anything before leading me away as I waved meekly. 

We were in a taxi on the way home but I felt detached and out of it. I kept thinking about what could’ve happened if Spencer hadn’t been there when he was. 

“I didn’t lie to Penelope for you, did I?” he joked, gently nudging me to bring me out of my thoughts with a soft tone to his voice and a gentle smile on his face. 

“No, I would never make you do that. I’m okay, just like I said earlier,” I promised, but it didn’t seem to ease his suspicions any.

After getting out of the car, we were heading up to his apartment, his arm around me the whole way until we got to his door where he let go to let us inside. 

I stood behind him, an arm wrapped around myself and looking around the hallway on either side until I heard the telltale sound of the lock clicking open then took his hand that he extended to me. He pulled me through the threshold and then turned around to close the door behind us while I simply stood there.

Spence could tell I was feeling off, but I couldn’t do much about it. My mind couldn’t help taking me through what the worst case scenario would’ve been.

“Hey,” he murmured lovingly, leaning in close enough that I could feel him behind me without him actually touching me, “I don’t care what ‘men’ try to pick you up, I’ll always be the man taking you home,” he mumbled in my ear, just low enough to send shivers down my spine as he pulled me in until I was pressed against his chest and gently tilted my head so he could make eye contact with me, “Okay?”

I nodded, not taking my eyes off of his. 

“Good. Now, c’mon, let’s take a shower and stop thinking about this.” 

“How’d you know I was—“

Spencer simply looked at me with a raised eyebrow, as if he was asking whether or not I was serious.

“…never mind.”

“That’s what I thought. Come with me.” He took my hand, holding it firmly but gently as he led me into the bathroom. “Start the water, I’m gonna grab some clothes and towels for us.” He kissed the back of my head with his hands gently resting on my shoulders before leaving the room. I did as told, though, leaning down to start up the water and making sure the temperature was okay. 

As I was about to get up, I heard him come back into the bathroom, closing the door and coming up behind me. I felt the warmth of his body before his hands slid over my hips, pulling me up to stand and turning me around to face him. 

“Do you want me in here with you? I can start up some food if–” He stopped mid-sentence when I grabbed his wrist, nonverbally signaling that I didn’t want him to leave me, “--okay, don’t worry…I’m right here and I’m going to keep you safe now.” 

Adjusting so he was holding my hand instead, he then leaned down to kiss my forehead before leaning his head against mine. “Is it okay if I take your shirt off for you?” His voice was soft as it broke the silence, barely even there, which made it all the more comforting. 

I nodded again, but he didn’t move, so I got the sense he wanted verbal consent.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” I mumbled back, and he kissed my cheek before he gently started tugging my shirt up and over my head. 

He paused with his hands hovering over the waistband of my jeans, glancing at me as if he was asking me again. 

“That’s uh, that’s okay, too. Jeans and..and just all of it, go ahead.” I smiled at him shyly, admiring how sweet he was to continually make sure I was okay with what was going on. 

Spence smiled at me then continued to undress me, unable to stop himself from looking at me for a moment before turning me around to gently push me into the shower and getting undressed himself so he could join me. I waited patiently for him, letting the water run through my hair and closing my eyes as I felt my muscles relax under the spray while my mind wandered.

It felt a bit odd that I didn’t want Spencer to stop touching me, as if his soft and gentle touch could somehow erase the terror of what could’ve happened to me but didn’t. That it could save me from feeling that man’s hand roughly grabbing my chin and almost forcing me into things I didn’t want. His gentle kisses and soft caresses were all I wanted, and it seemed he was more than willing to give me that.

I hadn’t noticed that Spence had stepped into the shower until I opened my eyes and he was standing in front of me, pouring soap into his hand. His eyes flicked over to meet mine once he realized I was looking at him, giving me a gentle smile.

“Are you still with me over there?” His tone of voice hadn’t changed from that same tender cadence, taking a small step closer to me until I could feel his breath ghosting over my skin. It was moments like this that made me realize just how tall he was. 

“Yeah, I’m right here…hi.” I waved up at him which made us both giggle.

“That’s okay, just checking, sweetheart.” Spence kissed the top of my head, rubbing the soap into both of his hands then he gently started to rub his hands over my shoulders. I leaned forward until my head was pressed against his chest as he ran his hands over my body, gently kissing the top of my head again then leaving a trail of kisses on my face and along my neck. 

I stood up straight again when he had to bend down further, blushing as I felt his hands massage over my legs and up my thighs. 

I slid my hand into his hair, gently playing with it as he left a kiss lower on my stomach and the warm water rained down over me. 

“S-Spence, I…” I trailed off, distracted by him leaving kisses and marks over my body.

“Hmm…?” he stopped, looking up at me. “Are you okay?” He sat back on his knees, looking up at me while holding both of my thighs.

I slid my hand into his hair, gently playing with it as he left a kiss lower on my stomach and the warm water rained down over me. 

“Mmhmm…I’ve just...I’ve never done this before, and everything that happened tonight, I just…I didn’t think it affected me because he only grabbed at me, but…”

“Stop,” he stood up, wrapping his arms around me with his hands on my lower back so he could pull me closer to him. “It’s alright that what happened affected you, any kind of unwanted touch is a very disorienting thing. Especially if you’ve never been touched like that. We don’t have to do anything unless you’re comfortable.” His voice was more serious than before, and I couldn’t bring myself to do anything but nod to show that I understood. “Are you still comfortable with this? Because it’s completely alright to have changed your mind. Just tell me, darling. I’m smart but I’m not a mind reader,” he joked, gently tugging me closer to him until I was almost pressed up against him. 

“Yes…Yeah, I’m still comfortable with this. I think I just needed a minute.” I speak only loud enough to be heard over the water. 

He nods and presses his lips to my cheek before he kneels in front of me again, marking his path with kisses down my stomach back toward where he was before I stopped him, sucking and gently biting at my skin along the way. 

As he got lower and lower, he shifted to loop his arms around my knees, pulling me even closer as he got ever closer to exactly where I wanted–no, needed him to be. I could feel his breathing getting heavier, each breath washing over me between each kiss. 

I slid both of my hands into his hair, gently gripping random fistfuls of it as I moaned lowly and tilted my head back. I felt him chuckle more than I heard it as his head found its way between my legs. 

Soon enough, his tongue glided smoothly in circles over my skin as I gasped and groaned, my grip tightening on his hair and almost pulling with each motion as any thought of getting cleaned up was abandoned. God, if I had known this was where I was going to be before I left the house with him, I wouldn’t have wanted us to leave either. 

Spencer eventually came up for air ever so briefly before he was back to kissing all over my body, marking my skin wherever he could without seeming to care where, like he was claiming every inch of me. Little did he know, all he’d have to do was say ‘please’ in the softest tone of voice he could muster and I’d be on my knees for him. Or worse, he knew and he was more than willing to take advantage of that fact. Not that I minded, per say. 

He slowly made his way back up to my lips, kissing every possible spot on my body that he could so I’d be littered in hickeys and would feel them as a constant reminder of this moment. Of him. 

I tugged on his hair lightly until he was on his feet, my arms going around his neck as I pulled him into a deep kiss with my lips parting against his as he pulled me in closer until our bodies were all but pressed together. 

Feeling him this close to me sent a shiver down my spine.

He finished washing me off, getting out and wrapping a towel around himself before he held out his hand to help me out of the shower. He wrapped the other towel around me and helped me dry off, getting me dressed in a white and gray hoodie of his that said Washington DC and a pair of his pajama pants that he had to tie in a neat bow so they didn’t fall. 

I went digging in his drawers and helped him pick out as well as get into his own pajamas, then he picked me up as I squeaked loudly and started laughing. 

“Spencer! What’re you doing?!” I yelled through giggles. 

“I’m not doing anything!” He smirked as he dropped me onto his bed then sat next to me. 

Spence was barely on the bed two seconds before I was in his lap, hugging him tight. He looped his arms back around me as he leaned back, hugging me close as he pulled the blankets over us and I nuzzled into his shoulder. 

Neither of us moved for a while, long enough for us both to fall asleep. As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I felt his lips press against the back of my head with a whispered ‘I love you’.

“Spence..?”

“Hmm..?”

“Can you like…talk to me? Like just…just tell me about something. Anything you want.”

“You’re giving me a lot of power here, sweetheart.” 

“I know, pretty boy, but your voice is…it’s comforting to me.” 

“Okay, you asked for it…” he cleared his throat in a dramatic fashion, making me giggle, before continuing, “The first thing I could think of that could be a lot of fun was Star Wars, so did you know that the name Yoda can be translated to ‘warrior’ in Sanskrit? Also, the word ‘Ewok’ was never spoken aloud in any of the films, even when they visit Endor, the only time it ever comes up is in the credits of ‘Return of the Jedi’,” Spencer rambled excitedly, and I was happy to listen to him for as long as he could talk. Just listening to him, it felt like the rest of the world melted away. Nothing else mattered, and that was the way I preferred it. 

I didn’t even notice I had been falling asleep until he kissed my head and softly wished me goodnight. 

[sarcastic-clapping]

“sad day for devil’s minion enjoyers” girl WHAT? armand turned that old man. he sucked him silly. do you really think nothing else went down or was said in that penthouse? on the unreliable narrator show where they love to breadcrumb pieces until you get the full truth? hello? i’m popping BOTTLES

[myrkulitescourge]

the way that one line from the new epilogue in an astarion romance is going to HAUNT me

just. what a profoundly intense thing to confess to someone.

like, just these six months of newfound happiness with you exerts a force on his heart equal and in direct opposition to two centuries of endless torment, the gnawing hunger and exploitation. this flashbulb-bright fraction of his long life holds the same gravity to him as years upon years of darkness and suffering.

in all likelihood, he hasn’t even known his lover for as long as his worst memory lasted, that year sealed away to go mad from starvation and sensory deprivation, yet he still tells them this brief time has been so fundamentally and powerfully important that the weight of even that unimaginable hell is vanishingly small compared to this present he has now and the future ahead of them both.

how am i supposed to act normal about this.

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[endermagpieart]

What do you mean I’m a bit late for Janus’ big day? Of course not, how could you say such a thing! I definitely didn’t forget all about it in my absence and only get reminded in the incorrect quotes video live chat; that’s not like me at all ;]

Anyways I decided to dress our sassy snake in some different outfits I think he’d like. He seems like the type to get all dolled up on his birthday and it goes with Thomas posting pics in outfits inspired by the sides on their appreciation days!

@thatsthat24

[mossy-paws]

Dopplegänger

Uh oh.

(Og Photo:)

[hyperfocusthusly]

[shutupineedtothink]

Trial order and why Lilia, not Agatha, is last (not counting Rio)

Kay, so I got another off-the-wall theory for you, this time around the order of the trials and why Lilia, not Agatha, is actually going to be last (if we don't count Rio). It goes back to maiden mother crone and some of the trauma/generational trauma stuff I already talked about in a previous post. As with The Road, continue at your own peril.

Right so I couldn't get this idea of maiden mother crone, intergenerational trauma, dealing with the long history of violence toward witches thing out of my head that the show is doing. And I think we've all been assuming that Lilia's trial will be next, saving Agatha and probably Rio for last, because those are standard main character of a TV show rules.

But the more I think about it, the more weight I feel like Lilia's journey carries for this overall theme of trauma toward witches and the history of witches, etc. She seems to have the most intense connection to the pain of witches past, like old-world witch stuff, and she's the one who's brought up multiple times that witches aren't really as they've been portrayed, there's all these negative stereotypes, etc etc. And she's sick of it. She's lived through it for the longest of all of them (again, leaving whatever Rio is out of it).

Idk, something that big, addressing the long history of violence toward witches and witch stereotypes, that feels like you have to deal with it last. That's a culmination of all the witch references, pop culture and otherwise, the show has been making, of which there are MANY.

So I thought ok, for funzies, let's assume Lilia's last, which puts our trial order as follows: Jen -> Alice -> Agatha -> Lilia (and I guess true last would be Rio but I'll get there in a second).

Assuming that order, something else pinged for me: maiden mother crone. Another massive theme in the show, portraying these generations of witches and women in general, and again, for reasons I can't explain, it really feels like it has weight to me. Like they're doing something with it.

So leaving Jen aside for a second, don't worry I'll come back to her, that makes Alice our maiden. Her role, particularly in the context of her trial, is the role of daughter. She's also the youngest of the witches, as far as I can tell. She's even coded as kind of the rebellious one, the young angry one who still hasn't quite accepted her heritage, until after her trial, she does.

Agatha is the mother. We are really going for the mother/child relationship with her and Teen, and of course dealing with her son's death and whatever part she played in it. I would assume her trial will be about that, but we could also be saving that for the end. The mother is also the connector generation between maiden and crone, so maybe there's something there about Agatha fully stepping into the leader role of the coven, and accepting these women around her, idk.

Lilia, the eldest, is our crone. She carries the true history and memory of generations of witches with her, she has lived the longest through the most trials. She is the most experienced in the craft and takes it the most seriously. The journey is hers to end.

Except -- we have two other players left. Jen, who kicks off the trials, and Rio, who I'm assuming doesn't really have a trial but will be there at the end... because, you know. 💀

So why would Jen be first? What comes before the maiden?

And then she said it herself.

"I never fully identified as a witch. I am an 11th-generation root worker and midwife."

This one line almost puts her in a similar category to Rio, at least thematically. She's a witch but also more, neither and both. And she's a midwife, someone who helps facilitate birth. Someone who, at her best, supports and sustains life. Someone who allows the first phase of life, the maiden, to come into being.

And guess who that leaves us with at the end, the opposite bookend to Jen's life-giving power -- the mistress of death herself, Rio. The one to which all life must eventually return.

The trials aren't just about elements, or moon phases, or even different witch specialties, they're taking us through the stages of a witch herself. The stages of ALL women really (whether you are an actual mother with children or not, the mother phase is mid-life). Linking us all together, generation after generation.

So in this theory, the trials go like this:

Jen -> Alice -> Agatha -> Lilia -> Rio

Birth -> Maiden -> Mother -> Crone -> Death

Even the moon phases line up. Full moon is birth, a full-term pregnancy and then birth. Waxing moon, growth, renewal, hope, promise -- the maiden. Half moon, mid-life, no longer maiden, not yet crone, the in-between -- the mother. Waning moon, the last quarter of life -- crone. New moon, darkness, returning to the void -- death. They're playing fast and loose with the moon phase order, so I am too.

I can probably fudge the elements here too, but it's a little harder mostly because I don't know what Agatha's element is. I heard someone say spirit, but idk.

Anyway, what do you think? Am I on to something here? Batshit crazy? Would love to hear your thoughts in comments. :)

[formulanni]

Max + car

TAGLIST: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo

[fuumiku]

Chilcille huh... ngl I was a little suspicious. like why would you do that, huh... hope youre not mischaracterizing anyone in your weird and wacky ship. a little weird. but then you said they both had flat asses and you know what? I salute you and your perfect characterization

The fact you seem to think you managed to not make this ask insulting is baffling. What the hell. Fuck off.

If you actually care to be open minded about the ship, I talk about marchil on my sideblog 24/7. Funnily enough I’m currently 4k words deep into an analysis of their character arc together in canon, but that’ll take some more days to get done. Some notable posts:

Of course without counting the analyses of Chilchuck on his own I’ve made, like my masterpost on his family situation. Or better yet you could also read my fics for them, see how weird and wacky they are here.

Wanna talk about mischaracterisation? They’re literally a comedic duo who interacts 24/7. Marchil is crazy bc ppl are like "did those shipper read with their eyes CLOSED?? They have no chemistry!" Meanwhile canon is like: "She’s obsessed with knowing everything she can about him and she reads him like a book." In her eyes he’s like that extra rare and hard and shiny unlockable dating sim character, that brooding mysterious character trope that’s thrilling to crack open and typically is at the center of the plot. The wife roleplay???? "Hey, did you know his type is blondes. Hey did you know he likes his women pretty and blonde. Hey did you know he likes her hair. Hey did you know that he teases her 24/7 and it’s one of the few things that consistently gets him grinning because he finds her reactions cute." Like a schoolyard bully pulling on the pigtails of the girl he likes.

It’s not like they have any thematic narratives or relevance. It’s not like she’ll live to 1000 and has existential dread about it while he’s logically gonna be her next friend to die at 50 and wether it’s romantic or platonic it’ll terrify her to lose him. It’s not like it’s fear of death x fear of rejection so they’re both obsessed with the thought of loss looming, past and ongoing. It’s not like it’s half-elf x half-foot and there’s an inherent journey that was and still is to dispel prejudices and truly come to see each other. It’s not like he’s painfully real and raw and flawed but still a good man, that he’s not the figure of prince charming that she’s always dreamed of while still being virtuous and worth fighting for. Or you know, her hair being golden and it being the epitome of beauty to him, and his hair turning silver and it being Marcille’s worst nightmare.

Just a weird wacky ship who means nothing but shallow things to people who have weirdo reasons for liking it. Like can you not. If you’re not imaginative enough to think of reasons why this ship may have an appealing dynamic that’s not my issue. But yes, yes, they’re both flat asses to me, thanks.

[deanofsam]

it just occurred to me that some of you might have missed seeing american football player joe burrow’s suit this past june during paris fashion week, and it is my personal opinion that everyone see these images at least once in their lifetime, especially those of us with a shared interest in slutty clothes on men (fictional or otherwise). so here they are.

[psychotic-nonsense]

|| >

There's not much Steve remembers.

There's a group of people walking through the woods, some older, some teens. He's amongst them. The sky is too dark and the trees are too dead. His hands are tight, holding something close. There's an air of panic, stress, hurry, caution. A mistake was made, and they need to escape.

Then instincts flare and the trees descend on them. Sharp rushes of wind, the shrill shrieking of something otherworldly. There's teeth and sharp whips and screaming and gunshots.

Then the swirling mass parts and the shrieks turn human, and Steve remembers the visceral fear of seeing the mass separate. One half rises, carrying a flailing, manic figure, and no no no Robin please no not Robin please no me take me instead you bastards not Robin please no Robin Robin-

Then the other half descends, whips circle his wrists, and the ground falls beneath him. There's screaming behind and before him as the earth fades away, and it's a cruel parallel, floating when all he wants to do is sink.

Robin's thrashing, Steve's thrashing. Their weapons have no use here, where teeth and whips maul them. Amid the pain, all Steve can do is plead to Robin, to forgive, to hope, to fight.

Robin finds the weak spot first. A quick succession of blind swings, a fierce thrash of flailing limbs. The bats scare, release her. But they're too high. Steve feels his throat go coarse as he watches Robin crash into the dead forest below, unable to differentiate the snapping between bark and bone.

Steve finds it in him to copy the act, do the same. And somehow, it works. Somehow, he's weightless.

There's a fierce pressure and the first snap he remembers feeling both on and within his skin-

And Steve wakes up.

It's not sudden, it's gradual. He feels the pains within him slowly throb to life, rousing him from sleep like an anchor rising from the sea. His left hand feels thick, and there's a burning poker laying across his forehead. His jaw feels wrong, and his eye stings and throbs.

His other senses slowly begin to return as well. He's laying down, his head tilted to his left, a bit cramped in the space as something presses around his shoulders. The material he's on isn't very comfortable either, some parts stabbing into his back, and there's a crinkling sound every time he breathes. He hears the faint rippling of water, and somewhere out there, it rushes fast and hard.

It's hell to even think of doing it, but as Steve returns to reality, his instincts rise to the surface, and he knows he has to get up soon. So he opens his eyes. He fights the involuntary tears, wincing as the stinging worsens, then wincing further when his face crumbles in the looping pain.

Finally, he can see a little. Where he is, it's thankfully pretty dark, with only a faint golden glow illuminating the area around him. His eyes strain to see through the darkness past the range of the light-

And then Steve notices where he is. A boathouse. The boathouse. The same one from a night that feels like a lifetime ago, rather than a few weeks. The start of their worst journey, the beginning of a friendship that would grow just to rot into a sour mess of guilt and loneliness.

He's laying within the same boat too...

His eyes focus on some motion across from him. A table covered in a lump of tarps and ratty cloths, and atop it sleeps a figure. Her face is scrunched up in pain, a patch of bloody fabric covering her cheek. One leg has been removed of all clothes, the ankle wrapped and foot elevated. Steve knows her, and instinct briefly overpowers everything else.

"Robs?-" Steve cracks out, his voice sore and rough. His body tries to rise, moving habitually, and he barely rises onto his elbows before the world pounces on him again. It's so strong and he's so weak that he can't move more than the closing of his eyes and the falling of his chin to his chest, can't make a sound louder than a whimper.

Suddenly there's a noise, there's movement beside him. The light glows just a tough brighter, and there's a base warmth suddenly pulsing through his chest.

It's a person, shushing him. Their hand is resting softly on his back, simultaneously supporting him and urging him down.

"Please, stay. It is better for you to rest."

The voice speaks softer than Steve can remember, but he still knows it. It's monotone, sounds ghostly, faint, quiet in a way that has nothing to do with volume, but it's still familiar. Still brings the memories around Steve right into the present, takes him back to that corpse, makes the presence around him feel more melancholic than scary.

Which is funnily enough, even more terrifying.

Steve can't move, can't pull his sight up to face what can't be reality.

"Apologies for the location. We cannot stray too far from the Gates."

The monotone changes to sound almost apologetic, more real, more like what Steve has been craving. It's what finally makes him cave, to turn his eyes to face the impossible.

Who he sees, what he sees, both crushes and rises his hope. Because past everything before him - the inhuman glow, the calm, plain expression - he finds exactly what he's been fighting for.

"Eddie...?" Steve pleads.

The blank face falls, just slightly. Like it's guilty.

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

(cleaner version below)

[charcubed]

oh everyone and their DISCLAIMERS about how “lokius will never be canon because disney and marvel are awful, but”........ well I have nothing to lose so. fuck disclaimers! this is my idea of fun! what if it CAN and WILL be canon, huh? what if the story is gonna go where it seems to be headed. what if I say they’re going to kiss on international streaming television. who’s gonna stop me

[faeriedoodles]

Assorted doodles I won’t do anything with

[fizzytoo]

next time ama offers to help her papa with the garden, she's making sure he promises not to get all sentimental

[hplonesomeart]

Hey. Sorry about the inactivity, but pretty sure no one cared that much anyways lol. Been a looooong time since I kept that distant from Tumblr…at least now I know I’m able to survive without checking posts every day/being chronically online! I’ve got an intense love-hate relationship with this lifestyle I’ve dug myself into. Think I’m getting a little bit better with the balance even if school isn’t really giving me an option. Got a load of work I need to keep catching up on if I don’t want to disappoint my professors. We’ll survive somehow. Here take a quick batch of Puzzle doodles k bye