#ive been going through his tag recently too and i love that we all end up drawing him while solely controlled by our libido

[prince-raisins-art]

i ♥️ soggy and pathetic men 🥰

[fictive-fodder]

|| Second Sight : V :September 25th, 1996||

Wizarding folk did not understand your work as a Specularri. Most with the gift of Sight failed to be as tenacious and diligent as the training required. But Seers who did were highly sought after by the bereaved, even the Ministry consulted you on mysterious deaths. The night of the new moon was usually ideal for your work, but when it coincided with the death of Sirius Black, nothing went as expected. Read this on A03 here!   

|| Word Count: 6.3K||

Warnings : Implied drug use

Story Chapters -

PART I - PART II- PART III - PART IV - PART V

||Author’s Note|| thank you for your patience. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I have enjoyed writing it <3 Though many people love the world of Harry Potter, J K Rowling has been making problematic statements for a long time and I am glad to see people taking her most recent ignorance seriously, as the gross, transphobic, hate speech that it is. There is so much beloved content that contains problematic, dangerous or inappropriate elements. Or, the author sucks. If we don’t learn to accept the good content while learning to acknowledge, highlight, and stand against the problematic content, we are throwing away most of the creative stories in our world. And that’s a shame, I’d rather we reclaim it and make it better. So even though this is Harry Potter fan fiction, this story centers around a non binary reader. It is my hope that anyone feels like they can slip into this story, and be apart. I want to make space for all who are willing to salvage this story. Any trans folks and gender queer folks who are here, reading, as I ramble on- Hi. You are welcome here. Thanks for giving me your time. <3

|| Tag List|| @hogwarts-1d-drarry-stan  @srhxpci  @loonyclaris

Staggering, you fell against the stack of books Byron never managed to organize by his front door. They toppled down to the ground, the slaps of them hitting the tile echoed down the corridor of his home. “Byron!” you called feebly through the cottage.

“What the-“ you could hear Byron sleepily exclaim as he lit his wand. You leaned against the nearest wall as you heard Byron stumble into the end of the corridor from you. “What on earth happened?”

“It’s Padfoot.” your voice trembled. Byron closed the distance between the two of you, his hands coming to hold your shoulders. “It’s him, it *is* Sirius Black. Then I was at Grimmauld Place and- Remus still knew him, Byron, they’re still friends.”

“Oh sugar.” Byron cursed, pulling you into a hug. Your head against his chest, Byron cradled the back of your head with one of his hands, his thumb petting your hair as you shuddered against him.

“What am I supposed to do? What does that mean about the order? What are we going to do?” you cried against him. Byron hugged you tighter to his chest, rocking you slowly.

“First thing to do is get through tonight.” he hushed, “Do you think you can do that?”

You felt a fresh wave of hot tears meet your eyes. Your mind was racing to create fearsome possibilities of what could happen, even as you became distracted every few moments with how extremely tired you were. Already, it felt like Byron was holding up most of your weight.

“Tell me you can do that, love.” Byron cooed under his breath.

“I can do that.” you answered, face feeling hot with self consciousness. You had never been so open with Byron before, but his ease with comforting you was nearly worth the embarrassment.

“Too right.” Byron affirmed, leading you over to the sofa in his sitting room. “How about you close your eyes for a few minutes and think about where we met. Tell me what you remember.” he continued, leaving you to lay down as he opened the window behind you. The cold beach air spilled in from the window like an unfurling blanket. You shivered, pulling a nearby throw woven from thick wool over your shoulders. The low rumble of the ocean waves rolling close by slowed your breathing. Suddenly, your eyes felt so heavy.

“You were lost.” you sniffed, closing your eyes to force yourself to visualize it. Apulia. The Adriatic Sea the only thing separating you from what you wanted most. The intensity of the sun in that region, the homes carved from limestone, olive trees. The sound of the ocean, just like here.

“As you would never let me forget.” Byron mumbled, sitting on the edge of his coffee table beside you. You heard him rub his hands together, covering his fingertips in a balm that smelled like chamomile, marshmallow root, burdock, mug wort, and vanilla- grounded, earthy, sweet. Then, as he waited for you to continue, he pushed his fingers gently against your temple, up and down the front and back of your ear, against the nape of your neck.

“I can still see them-“ you whispered, frowning as you felt hot tears well up in your closed eyes. “The Halls, they won’t go away.”

“Why was I lost?” Byron asked softly.

“Because-“ you wheezed, surprised by yourself having the ability to cry and laugh at the same time, “-you had successfully scryed that the college existed, but you didn’t know where to go.”

“But you did.”

“I might scry well, but I never had your talent with potions.” you said, your body had began to feel heavy as Byron began to rub his fingers through your hair.

“Didn’t you get dreams, too?”

“Once we made it to Phocis, yea.”

“What of?”

“The X in the underground stone that marked the breath of the gods at Delphi…” you answered quietly. “I dreamt of King Croesus insisting that the Pythia give him council on a war, even though it wasn’t the right time to divine. The Pythia initially refused, but once the king threatened to destroy the Oracle, she went down into the caves, the very same we ended up studying in, and inhaled the gods’ breath. But the moon wasn’t where it should have been, and the gases too strong. The king found her, crazed and frantic, seeing things that were not there, before she was overcome by insanity and died.”

“… I forgot how pleasant your subconscious is.”

“Well—“ you yawned, “pleasant or not, it got us in to the college.”

“You never did explain how.”

“The dream was about timing. We needed to be there on the right moon, or we wouldn’t be welcomed.”

There was a long pause in conversation then, the ocean waves beyond the window continuing their deep, soft roar.

“I’m glad I came here.” you mumbled, tongue heavy with sleep.

-X-

Someone was holding you by your waist. Enormous, armored hands with fingers as long as your ribs, effortlessly pulling you up into what, you did not know. You could not tell if your eyes were closed, open, or if the surrounding world was black. There was only the sensation of metal closing around your sides, darkness, and echoing breath.

“Can see your-” the breath took shape into words, distant, metallic, as if spoken through a tin. And suddenly you noticed there was a deeper darkness before you, outlining the contour of a helm, the black within it limitless and gaping.

With a jolt of panic you realized this armored creature was holding you up, as if inspecting you.

“I can see-” it breathed again. You struggled to move to no avail. You felt fear unlike any you’d ever known, as you comprehended that this nightmare, this monster, had overpowered you. You could not move, you could not speak, even your capacity to understand what was happening, where you were, felt stunted, tampered with.

“Your wounds- shining beneath your armor.” it hissed, metallic tongued, your stomach turning as it lifted you higher.

“No!” you cried, desperate to rip yourself away.

“Good Godrick-” you heard Byron gasp, as your eyes opened to the view of his sunbathed sitting room. The scent of fried potatoes filled your nose as you turned to see Byron, hand over his heart, startled. “You can’t do that to me- all content and asleep one moment, shouting the next.” he wheezed, shaking a wooden spatula in your direction. “Damn near stopped my heart!” ”Sorry-” you replied, shoulders falling as you looked around his home and relief washed over you. “Was I asleep long?” ”Not three days long.” Byron smiled, hustling to bring you a cup of coffee. “Just overnight.”

“Oh.” you frowned, accepting the mug with a nod of appreciation.

“How do you feel?”

“Not… not that bad?” you answered, sounding as surprised as Byron looked. “Had another weird dream, though.”

“About the Perceforest thing?”

“I don’t know…” your frown deepened. The heat of your cup of coffee spread through your hands, warming them. It helped you feel like you could breathe. Glancing down, you noticed your coffee was in a chipped novelty mug that said “Byron’s Bed & Breakfast ~ Grieve in Peace.” You smiled as the little ocean waves illustrated along with a rendition of Byron’s home rolled in sync with the actual tide outside. You hadn’t known that he’d wanted to start an inn, or used to have one.

“So what, if not that?” Byron asked, darting back into the kitchen.

And then with a jolt you noticed you could see the cup through your fingertips. You nearly spilled the coffee as you hastily set the mug down and stared at your hands. Your eyes widened as you moved the tips of your translucent fingertips, stomach sinking. You didn’t understand what he was asking, the confusion further upsetting you. What was wrong with your hands? This had never happened before. You could feel your mind begin to race and forced yourself to stop. It was too much to think about. And it wasn’t that noticeable anyway. You couldn’t bear worrying about it right now. Besides, they didn’t hurt and they worked just fine.

“Hey?” Byron asked, reappearing with two mismatched bowls piled high with potatoes and eggs.

“Sorry- the coffee was so good I lost track of what we were talking about.” you lied, accepting the breakfast with raised eyebrows. “Wow, thank you.”

“What was weird about the dream?” Byron pressed, sitting beside you on the couch.

“There was a creature?” you started through a bite of egg. “It felt old, powerful… as if it was surprised I was there, but also like it had been waiting?”

“For what?”

“Some… one or thing… to arrive… or happen.”

“And when you say creature?”

“Big and strong… and in armor. It was so dark it was hard to see. But around it’s helm there was a crown made from Blackthorn branches.”

“Could you draw it?” Byron asked, setting down his half eaten bowl to reach for a quill and parchment.

“The armor?” you asked, accepting it.

“Yea.”

“Why?”

“Just curious. Go on.” he encouraged. Feebly, you did your best to capture the particular shapes you remembered, surprised to see just how intrigued Byron was to take the parchment from you and tuck it into his pocket. “Was there anything else?”

“It spoke to me. It said ‘I can see your wounds shining beneath your armor.’”

“Did it sound like the same sort of voice?”

You thought about it, recalling the first dream. And for you, who would reach this boundary, set foot on my threshold, to see the sun in the middle of the night, blazing with bright light, to approach me from below, from above, and worship me from nearby. You are saved from Perceforest this night. “It wasn’t dissimilar.”

“Have you run into anything or anyone else inside the Halls?”

Your stomach dropped as the light filled your memory. The odd cry of excitement as its brightness grew. “Nothing like that dream.” you answered, and then proceeded to detail everything about last night to Byron. He listened attentively, with growing concern behind his eyes despite his best attempts to show calm. After you finished, he took a long time to respond. Then, with a hard look at you, Byron slowly set down his bowl, leaned over, and pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I know it’s a lot, but you don’t have to do this.” you mumbled against his shoulder. “I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll make sure of it.” Byron replied low, sitting back. “I think we should let Solonie know everything.”

You fought to keep your expression neutral and receptive instead of the skeptical and defensive.

“I don’t think she’ll be upset.” Byron continued, running his fingers over his beard. “But I think she might know what could help and even if she doesn’t, there isn’t anyone with better resources to figure it out.”

“Help with what, though?” you asked, throat tight. You hid your hands beneath the wool blanket still over you. “What am I doing? Helping him? The crazy wizard who was strong enough to break free of Azkaban? You know, before he even remembered who he was he remembered Harry. He remembered needing to get to Harry.”

Byron’s frown deepened as he considered your concerns. “Solonie can give guidance on that, too. I mean, she’s been a Specularri longer than you’ve been alive. This can’t be her first instance of a morally ambiguous situation.”

“It’s just…” you started, feeling an itching agitation of just wishing you could know what you needed on your own. “You never heard of anything like this in Delphi, right? And neither have I. And if it wasn’t something to be learned there, than how does it exist? How does this whole… place exist? And why?”

“It’s not unreasonable to imagine that Dorea Black may have discovered something that the Specularris of Delphi didn’t know about.” Byron replied, shrugging gently. “They are steeped in Mediterranean traditions that go back before England was united as a country. Their focus was always on ancient wisdoms. Maybe their wealth of knowledge predates the Halls and whatever Perceforest is.”

You sat back, hugging your knees up to your chest. Everything Byron was saying made sense, but telling Solonie didn’t sit right with you. Why? Why did you feel so protective?

“We always think of magic as something still. Something cemented into history and never adapts. But what if it does? What if it evolves right along with us? And just as it shapes us, we shape it?” Byron mused, shrugging. The unease you felt only bit down harder as you considered his line of thought.

“Give me a moment.” you sighed, standing up and walking to the nearest toilet. You could hear Byron casting cleaning spells in the kitchen as you forced yourself to approach the sink. Your heart raced as you looked into your own reflection, wondering if you would hear Sirius Black’s voice calling out to you again. A pang of confusing pain shot through your nerves as you remembered how desperate he had sounded, how happy he was that he could still reach you. Growling, you rubbed your eyes, which were as irritated as ever after connecting to him, and forced yourself to look into the mirror. The Halls were still there, clear dark shapes in the periphery of the reflection, but nothing else. The sight, and the lack of him caused anger to rise in you, and shame, and betrayal. You grimaced at yourself in the mirror. Why were you upset that he wasn’t there? That was what you wanted. You didn’t want to keep helping him. You wanted him gone.

-X-

At first glance, the Ministry of Magic seemed unchanged despite all of the news. Voldemort may be back, but everyone was still coming into work, dressed in their business cloaks and talking Quidditch or whining about an inhumane deadline.You made your way, as was usual, to the Licensing Department, and just as always Pharien smiled as they saw you approach.

”Good morning!” They greeted with a touch of indulgent joy. You shot them a flat smile.

“Why do you always choose the earliest option to bring me in?” you greeted, taking the seat at the head of their desk.

“Do I?”

“Don’t play coy.” you groaned, rubbing your eyes with your gloved hands before you went to reach for all of your paperwork. The translucence to your fingertips hadn’t gone away. The Halls too, were still there every time you looked into something reflective, at this point you were just getting used to your eyes being irritated, light sensitive and dry.

“No no, I had a good reason this time.” Pharien promised, with a nod of thanks as they accepted the paperwork from you.

“This time?” you repeated, tilting your head. “So you admit you do this?”

“You see,” they started, leaning over their desk in a confidential gesture. “I have a friend that works for the Department of Mysteries. She’s an Unspeakable, right?” Pharien couldn’t help but give a victorious little smile as they saw your interest peak- Unspeakables were notoriously difficult to be familiar with, at least outright.

“How are you friends with an Unspeakable?”

“Wow, rude. I do have some very redeeming qualities.”

“Color me unconvinced. How are you friends with an Unspeakable?”

“Well, I guess whatever her job is there has something to do with your line of work, because she’s always asking about how being a Specularri works.”

“What do you tell her?”

“I told her I’d bring her a Specularri, one of the best.” Pharien waggled their eyebrows at you. “But they were busy. So you’ll have to do.”

You stood up then, looking at Pharien with a flat glare.

“Right, so we’re going! Yes! Off to the department of mysteries!”

-X-

You had never been so deep in the Ministry of Magic before. It felt like being back in the caves at Delphi- something about the human body could feel when it was being led deep beneath ground, even when it was as polished as a government office. Pharien nodded to the wix standing guard outside the office door, who regarded the two of you skeptically.

Immediately you felt self conscious, but your curiosity to see the inside of the department of mysteries overpowered your anxieties.

“Fortiger asked me to bring a specialist for something she’s working on.” Pharien explained to the guard. They nodded, waving their hand before the door that they guarded. You heard several locks releasing before the guard ushered you inside.

“Well-“ you started, looking over your shoulder to Pharien. “I expect my license to be processed first thing! And you’re welcome for all this!” You called out, before the guard closed the door on Pharien’s face.

You heard a low, silky voice say your name from the heart of the room. Turning to look, your eyes fell upon a tall, willowy woman, with platinum colored hair that shaggily fell to her shoulders. She regarded you with squinting upturned eyes, so blue they nearly looked violet in this light. The wide line of her mouth curled upwards in a grin as their eyes traced your features.

“Hello,” you started, reaching out your gloved hand towards her for a shake. “It’s a pleasure. Fortiger, right?”

“Yes.” She replied, her handshake was firm, rigid, and brief. With a bow of her head, Fortiger continued introducing herself as she led you down a corridor. “Gentian Fortiger. Thank you for accommodating this request into your schedule. I am sure you’re very busy in your capacity as a Specularri.”

“Well I never thought it would lead me to an invitation here.” you answered with a chuckle. “What is it that I can do for you, Gentian?”

She smiled, continuing to lead down a set of stairs, deeper into the earth. You felt the temperature drop with each step downward. “Working as an Unspeakable has many challenges- nuances, that can make our work seem ambiguous, even superfluous. As a Specularri, I imagine that resonates with you?”

“That attitude is often extended to divination as a whole, yea.” You pushed your arms closer to your side as the staircase finally opened up into a wide corridor. As your eyes adjusted to the torches that flared to life at your presence, you had to withhold a gasp. The walls had lost their black lacquered tiles, and were instead a much older carved stone. The corridor tapered upwards to a high ceiling, with multiple columns supporting the sweeping, medieval architecture. It looked just like it. The Halls.

Gentian exchanged a glance with you, leading you down the hallway to an ancient looking wooden door.

“It’s musty down here- old.” Gentian remarked quietly, in the same way people lower their voices while looking at great art. There was a reverence in her tone, an understanding that in this deep and old place, there was the remnant of something artful, something precious. That it only still existed through generations of great care.

With a flourish of her wand, the door groaned open, revealing a large auditorium with a raised Dias in the center. You could easily sense an ancient, sacred quality to this place, but there were also signs of a more recent disturbance; chipped stones on the floor leading down towards the center, the few items in the room were haphazardly moved to one side, as if it had been cleaned recently but not reorganized.

This time, you were not able to hide your gasp as your eyes fell to the center of the room. A black veil raised on the Dias, billowing softly in a non existent wind. Your heart skipped several beats, throbbing thickly in your chest as you heard indiscernible whispers emit from it, just like the ones you heard in the Halls.

The weight of Gentian’s eyes studying you only exacerbated the Veil’s affect on you. The hair on the back of your neck and arms rose, and as you approached the itching in your eyes became profoundly worse, causing them to water.

“This is one of the two most ancient relics of our country.” Gentian gestured to the Veil. “This, and the pensive located at Hogwarts predate Hogwarts itself- the ministry, too. They are part of an ancient magic that was the foundation of what we use today.”

Slowly, as if in a dream, you reached your hand outward, but before it could even land on the lip of the Dias, Gentian’s hand caught yours in mid air, gently squeezing it as they shook their head. “I can’t allow you to get any closer than this.”

“So, the pensive and this? What does that mean this Veil is? Do you know?”

“That is why you’re here.”

You blinked, eyes shifting between the Veil and Gentian’s smiling eyes.

“There was a… disturbance, not that long ago.”

“Oh?”

She nodded, her face paling as she glanced at the Veil as if regarding a sinister entity. “The Veil has never in recent history been recorded to do anything other than what you see now. But since that disturbance, there have been periods of heightened activity.”

“Right, okay. And you wanted a Specularri because you think it has to do with the dead?”

“The dead have not changed from my understanding, they are still dead. I do not think they are the reason the Veil has been irregularly active.”

“What does active mean? And if not the dead- why would you want someone like me?”

Gentian sighed then, running their long fingers through their hair. “Occasionally, this artifact will become more active as the black cloth changes from moving gently to full on billowing as if in a non existent storm. Additionally, the whispering that you may, or may not be able to hear becomes very audible, the voices- if we should call it that- are raised, sometimes to the point of shouting, while still remaining indiscernible.”

“That sounds unpleasant.”

“Very much so.” Gentian chuckled, clearly appreciating the lightness of your response.

You waited for Gentian to answer your second question, struggling to pull your focus away from the Veil. You wanted to touch it so badly.

“I’d like, if you’re willing, for you to try your art on the Veil itself.” Gentian said, voice softer. “I don’t mean scrying necessarily, but whatever divinatory application you think might best serve me.”

You could feel your heart beating thickly in your temple, trying to seem politely curious and professional instead of the burning, crazed fascination you truly felt. You did your best attempt at a casual nod of consideration. It was like she was just giving it to you- all the access you could want with this thing.

“Do you hear the whispers?” She asked, glancing at the Veil.

“Yes.” You said, straining to sound normal.

-X-

It was never going to feel great, you had to remind yourself, telling Solonie about Sirius Black was never going to feel convenient, or easy, or calm. You were just going to have to do it stressed and anxious.

She looked at you from across her scrying table, eyes full of patient concern. The grace of this woman, while sometimes stern, was an unending source of value to you. Not many people could say they have fair and genuinely compassionate superiors, but Solonie was. You tried to remind yourself of that while you forced yourself to look into her face, wrinkles embroidering her gentle smile with calm.

“Hi.” She started playfully, and you could hear yourself gulp. You wondered with an abstract self consciousness if she heard it. If she knew how worried you were to tell her everything. How had Byron convinced you of this?

Calling you back to return to the present moment, Solonie said your name, reaching over to gently touch her hand to yours.

“Right…” you sighed, giving her a tight smile. “So, the new moon a few months ago.” You glanced up to the ceiling as chills went through your body. It was just a conversation, but somehow it felt like you wouldn’t survive it.

“Yes?” Solonie encouraged supportively.

“Well.” you breathed, and breathed again. Even if she wasn’t going to lose patience with you, you were. A flash of self annoyance lit up within you. Stop thinking. Just talk, you thought. “I encountered an anomaly. I experienced something that I never have before, and I’ve never read about, was taught about, anything.” ”Alright.” Solonie responded, head tilting. There was a trace of concern in her eyes, and even though that was embarrassing, you supposed you couldn’t be surprised. You had never been so emotional in front of her.

“Someth- someone, found me. From inside the mirror. And they were different, too. They felt alive. Reactive. Able to interact with the scrying materials… nearly able to see me, too.” Though Solonie’s face remained professional and stoic, her cheeks paled. You nodded, sighing again.

“I am guessing that means you’ve never experienced that before?” you asked.

“Nothing like that. Not ever.”

“So naturally, I was alarmed because it seemed like this person was trapped.”

“But where?”

You laughed, nodding gravely. “Where indeed.” you replied dryly. “I’ve managed to keep in contact, I’ve found ways to further explore this place, but I can’t understand how to get them… out.”

This admission cast you and Solonie in to a long moment of quiet. Her stoic expression flickered as she focused on the details you’d given. ”So tell me what you know of this place?”

“It’s a series of Halls. A light less place made up from cut stone- it looks medieval. It’s endless seeming. I found someone- not a Specularri, but someone who practices and they believe that this place is some kind of sacred space discovered by their teacher, the late Dorea Black.”

To this, one of Solonie’s eyebrows arched. Her expression sharpened wearily. “That so? Is that why you’ve been looking less and less yourself in the recent weeks?”

“What do you mean?” you asked, chest tightening with defensiveness.

“That you’ve been working away from this office more than ever. That you’ve managed to look sick every time I’ve seen you for the past nine weeks. What did this person tell you to do? Or give you?”

“Solonie-” you started, shaking your head.

“You can be offended. What did they give you?”

“They sell candles-” you started, voice hard. Why were you being so protective of Asterius? It was true, that candles were horrible. You would have reacted the same way if you’d seen Byron resorting to their use.

“Well what is in them?”

You blinked, and that reaction seemed all Solonie needed to condemn it. She groaned your name. “If you’re going to experiment with fringe practices, you need to be aware of what you’re using.”

You opened your mouth to retaliate to whatever criticism she might say, refute whatever harsh words may come, and blinked as you registered that she wasn’t severe at all. In fact, she was being very reasonable.

“So you’re not…” you started, “reporting me? Or, restricting my clients or I don’t know… punishing me?”

Solonie blinked back at you, her own flatness dwarfing your own sardonic sensibilities. “I’d sooner seek to punish whoever put that poor person wherever he is. But we do need to come up with a structure for you. It’s necessary that we help, but it is unwise to go into something so mysterious without fail safes. Now-” she turned to look at a moon calendar and ran her finger along until it rested against the next new moon. “The first thing you need to do is go back to wherever you got those candles and make sure you know whats in them. Then you can tell Byron and I, and we will look into the potion structure and see what are it’s risks, what makes it work, or fail. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is something we can alter that lowers it’s side effects. Or something we can make or use before and after hand to aid you.”

“Wait.” you started, eyes widening. “You’re not… I mean, you’re going to help? Me? You’re going to help me do this? Help him?”

“Of course.” Solonie replied, her eyes hard, as if it was insulting to assume otherwise. You felt tears rise in your eyes, a rush of pressure into your head. “What?” she exclaimed, only looking more offended.

“Sorry-” you tried to compose yourself, “I just didn’t think-”

“Yes. Not usually a problem with you. But I suppose we all have our moments.” Settling into her chair, she continued. “The next new moon is in October, will that give you enough time to source the materials of these candles?”

You started to say yes, but before you could say anything more, a soft knock sounded against her door. Aurelia apologized as she pushed in, eyes flickering nervously between the two of you.

“Yes?” Solonie asked. You were surprised when Aurelia’s focus shifted to you.

“Sorry,” she started, “There is someone in your office. Demanding to see you.”

“Oh-” you started, standing up slowly and glancing back towards Solonie for dismissal.

“I think we have a good start, go on.” she said, nodding.

As you walked down the hall towards your office, you couldn’t help but feel a mix of victory and dread. Byron had been right, Solonie was willing to help. Never would you have imagined that the conversation would have gone the way it had. Pushing into your office, you shook your head. What now? You hadn’t had the chance, or made your mind up, about telling Solonie who it was you had been trying to save. You hadn’t even made your mind up if you were going to continue to try and help Sirius. But- you thought with a grimace, how could you not?

As your office door closed behind you, you gasped sharply as your eyes landed on Remus Lupin, sitting at your table with a cadaverous pallor.

“I’ve been looking for you, everywhere. Both of us, Tonks and I.” he sighed in relief and stood up. Your eyes traced his path, breath turning shallow as you looked up into his face, your hand slowly reaching for your wand. His glance darted towards your hand and he shook his head.

“No. No, no-” he said low, holding one hand up in a gesture of surrender as the other withdrew his wand from his robes and placed it on your table. “I came here to apologize. For scaring you, for how everything happened.”

You snarled, your skin suddenly hot with a mix of embarrassment, anger, disappointment. “How what happened?” you seethed, teeth tight. “How you made a fool of Byron and I? How you tricked us into thinking that your Order was for something good? I ought to expose it all right now. I ought to march up to the Auror’s office, find whatever officer Alastor hates the most, and tell them the address of that horrible place-”

Remus’ eyes suddenly brightened, widening with vulnerability and alarm. You could see the pain in his expression deepen with your words, a frantic and desperate line to his mouth. His other hand drew upwards, until this tall, sullen soldier of a wizard was all but bowed before you, listening to you with increasing fear in his eyes. It satisfied you, it made you feel like there was still some part of your life that was not larger than yourself.

“Please.” he asked, his tone wavered. “Please allow me to show you just one, one thing- and then I will leave you alone. I just want you to understand one thing.”

The satisfaction you felt was immediately tempered by a sting of guilt as you watched how quickly this man came to begging. It scared you, the extremeness of your own emotions, of his- this entire situation. You shook your head lightly, trying to recenter yourself, trying to ground yourself.

“What is it.” you asked, voice hard and guarded.

Slowly reaching into a pocket of his robes, Remus pulled out a very wrinkled copy of The Daily Prophet. You blinked, having expected something stranger, wilder, not something as mundane as the paper. Your eyes traced the front as you recognized the issue. June 18th, 1996 HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS.

“Everyone saw this.” Remus gestured to the headline, before his fingers slipped to the inside pages, there was a well thumbed corner you noticed, he hardly had to glance as he turned the page. “But not…” he started, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

Sirius Black: The Truth Emerges

Long regarded as a dangerous fugitive, Sirius Black lost his life last night in the Department of Mysteries. Recent revelations confirm that Black was not responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter and was never a dark wizard. Instead, he fought against He Who Must Not Be Named’s followers, sacrificing himself in the struggle against the Dark Lord's return. Black has been granted pardon posthumously by the Minister of Magic for all accusations made against him.

You were unable to focus on the words. Each letter a strange symbol- chaos, unreal. You had been holding your breath and shaking your head long before you realized you were. Before you realized that you were still in your office with Remus Lupin. Before you were able to finally register that he was innocent. Sirius Black was innocent.

Unable to find words, you looked back up into Remus Lupin’s face and found it wet with tears. He was trying to stop himself from crying, his shoulders jerking slightly with the effort. Whatever he saw in your face seemed to only make it harder for him.

“The last time I saw you,” he started, “And I heard you say ‘Padfoot’, I-” he made a sound between a sigh and a sob, trying to clear his throat as he wiped his hand down his face. “I didn’t, I couldn’t control my emotions. I didn’t think of what it would seem like to you, and for that I will- I’ll regret that my life over.”

Remus took a step towards you, that same pleading expression on his face. “You may never trust me again, and wish to never set foot in another Order meeting. I would understand. I would never again trouble you. I would erase any mark myself or the Order left on your life. But-” his voice wavered. Remus came closer, eyes red and bright with hot tears. “If there is anything I can do so that you will help him, even if that means accomplishing such without ever reminding you of my existence again, I would… I would move mountains. Reorder the stars. Nothing you asked of me would be too great a cost. You would never hear any form of refusal. I would offer my life.”

A shiver ran through you, and you jumped as you felt a tear drop from your lash and hit your own cheek. The air surrounding you pressed close, bent, magnifying Remus’ anguish. But before you could think of what to say, the door to your office slammed open from behind you.

With a yip of terror, you pivoted, Remus was just as shocked as Byron pushed into the room.

“YOU’VE GOT SOME NERVE, LUPIN!” Byron roared, one of his huge arms coiling around you and pulling you closer to him, as his other hand pointed his wand at Remus’ chest. “YOU DIDN’T THINK I WAS WATCHING? THAT I WOULDN’T BE HERE?” ”Byron-” you gasped, choking on your breath.

Remus looked into Byron’s yelling face with eyes as big as saucers. Hands raised into the air, he quickly resumed his gesture of compliance. “I-”

“WHAT?” Byron growled, as you tried to gently disentangle yourself from him. “YOU WHAT? YOU’RE SORRY? YOU THINK THAT’S GOOD ENOUGH? YOU THINK THAT WE-”

“BYRON!” you shouted, struggling to speak over him. You placed both of your gloved hands over his wand arm, lowering it. He jumped, looking between you and Remus with brows bent into a knot of confusion. “You’ve missed a very convincing apology and redemption.”

Leaning over, you grabbed the copy of the Prophet off of the table and showed Byron the small passage about Sirius. As he read, you watched as the furious twist of Byron’s expressions slowly undid themselves.

“Oh.” he said, cheeks reddening as he tucked his wand away.

“That’s more than I managed to say.” you shrugged, glancing at Remus. “Are you alright?”

Remus, white faced, didn’t look like he entirely knew how to respond to you and gave something between a shrug and a thumbs up.

“Right, so…” you sighed, glancing from Byron and then back to Remus. You turned towards him, face set. “You were telling me that you would do anything I needed. To get him back.”

“Anything.” Remus said.

Your mind was blaring with too many thoughts, from exhaustion. You felt Byron’s large hand move to rest on your shoulder and took a large breath. “The candles…” you thought aloud.

“Yes?” Remus said, perking up.

“I need- he works at The Coffin House. His name is Asterius. I need you to bring him-”

“Not here.” Byron interjected softly. “Being Ministry run and all.”

“Right. I need you to bring him to my flat. Yea… bring him to my flat.”

Sirius, you thought as a lash of pain tore through your chest. I’m sorry. I’m coming back.

“Asterius… Darnant?” Remus asked, frowning softly.

“You know him?” Byron asked.

“Vaguely. He was mates with Regulus Black, Sirius’ little brother… I’d see them at school.” Remus raised his eyebrows, as if appraising some passing thought. “He isn’t the most straightforward person. He might not be happy to… comply.”

“He has what I need to do this and understand it more.” you added, a new determination in your tone.

“Then he will come to your flat.” Remus answered, picking his wand back up from the table.

You felt your heart lurch. “Remus-” you started, taking a step towards him. “I’m sorry too. I’m sorry for how everything has gone. For what you’ve lost.”

“What I’ve lost?” Remus repeated, giving you a soft smile. He looked exhausted. Remus shook his head. “Not many get the privilege to say they’ve found it again.”

[iwadori]

When they leave you on your wedding day (Sakusa, Bokuto)

Genre: angst

Word count: 1.7K

masterlist

Sakusa’s will make more sense if you read this you don’t have too but it’ll help.

Sakusa:

“Y/N,” you hear knocks on the door outside your dressing room “I-I need to talk to you.”    

“But Omi, a groom must never see their bride until they meet at the alter,” you say behind the door.

“I-It’s important, and I must tell you right now.” he says a bit more intensely

“Okay, Okay... you can come in but im hiding in the closet since my dress is already on.”

“Ok.”

You hear the door open and shut, and a lot of pacing around of what you can presume was his fresh wedding shoes trotting against the hard wood floors.

“Omi,” you call wondering why he hasn’t spoken yet “Is everything okay?”

“Umm yes I-it's fine...it just I-” he says pausing

“Just what?”

“I don’t really know how to say this Y/N, I don’t really know how to say it’s just-” he says again pausing himself taking a deep breath.

“Just what Omi? Don’t tell me you’ve got cold feet love,” you say laughing at the thought of it, but your laughter ceased when you don’t hear the ‘Of course I don’t have cold feet Y/N’ that you were expecting.

“Omi?” you asked again, hoping he had he was still going to give you the response you wanted.

“Omi..” you repeated.

“Omi!” you say finally, now exiting the room (with your wedding dress on) to see why your fiance was not responding.  

To your shock, Omi was sitting down on a couch with his face in his hands with soft sobs coming from his mouth and runny tears and snot coming from his eyes and nose. “Omi whats wrong?” you say loudly, alerting him,

“Y/N you look beautiful!” he says sniffling.

“Omi you were meant to say that at the alter, but now that your crying forget about the dress... what’s wrong?” you say sitting down next to him.

“I don’t know how to say this...” he starts, looking away from you  

“Say what? Omi look at me...” you say feeling anxious  

“We...We can’t get married today,” he says still with his eyes off you.

“What do you mean, we can’t get married.” you ask but you get no answer,

“Omi answer me,”

“Say something please!” you say turning his body so that he’s facing you, his eyes are all puffy and bloodshot from the crying and now tears are filling yours “What do you mean Omi,”

“Remember Ex’s name?” he says confusing you cause what did she have to do with anything.

“Yes I remember her, I remember vividly being the girl you cheated on her with after you claimed you were ‘breaking up with her’ so I had to tell her.” you scoff “so yes, I definitely remember Y/N, what about her?”

“We recently umm how can I say this,” he says struggling for words “reconnected... and I do truly miss her and she’s made me rethink some things, see some things...”

“And those things are?”

“I’ve always loved her, she’s always been my one. The one.” he says smiling a bit at the thought of her making you feel sick.

“But Omi what about us? What about the wedding that’s going to happen in less than an hour?”

“Im sorry Y/N I’ll tell everyone what has happened.”

“I don’t want you to do that, I want you to marry me.” you say desparetly “please Omi, why her? Why now..”

“It’s always been her, and you’ve known that.” he says standing up “The day you told her about our ONE NIGHT stand, was the day that I thought I couldn’t live on, but when you came and accepted the pathetic mess I was, I gladly dated you since I had nothing else to loose...but its been 4 years since then I'm a changed man and EX NAME is a changed girl, a forgiving girl and the spark we had wasn’t lost I guess...and Im happy now”

“But what about me?” you say crying “What about me? And my happiness, don’t I deserve that? Don’t I deserve to finally be happy.”  

“Y/N, you do deserve to be happy. But not with me, not at the stake of my own happiness, I wont allow it.”

“Omi bu-”

“God Y/N, don’t be so desperate!” he said agressively “Im sorry for stopping the wedding, I know your parents have put in alot of money in it and I will certainly pay them back... in due time of course.”

“You’re sorry for stopping the wedding?” you say angrily “Not sorry for stopping this relationship. Stopping the longlasting feelings ive felt for you since the day I met you?”

“Cut the crap Y/N, all we did was have one night stand.” he says rolling his eyes and unbuttoning his top botton of his shirt and loosening his tie I dont know why but this Is what guys do when theyre mad in the movies.

“Your such a liar Omi, you used to come into my work place everyday flirting with me talking about how much you wanted me, PINING AFTER ME, making me fall in love with you and not even telling me you had a girlfriend at the time.” you yell “and you summarise that all to me falling in love with you after one measly one night stand.”

“I don’t want to do this Y/N,” he says heading to the door “We’re finished. No more wedding. No marriage. And definitely don’t contact me after this. We’re through.” he slams the door behind him, leaving you alone and jilted in your wedding dress.

You get why he broke it off with you, and technically you do play a small part to blame. You were the one that told his girlfriend that you slept with him and then dated him afterwards, so I guess ‘how you get them, is how you lose them’ definitely works in this case.

Bokuto

The bokuto and L/N wedding was going to be a joyous occasion. Your soon to be husband told everybody he saw that he were to be wed with you, he couldn’t contain his excitement.

“Bokuto calm down, we’ll be married soon.” was what you always said, whenever he started his rambles to which he always replied “I know Y/N, I cant wait.”

When it came to your grand day, you were excited from the moment you woke up you were buzzing, wondering if Bokuto was feeling even a half of the feelings that you felt.  

You looked beautiful in your dress, anticipating the look on Bokuto’s face when he sees you at that alter. Your wedding party was already at the hotel you were getting married at whilst Bokuto’s got ready at the houe and decided to drive there.

So after you got ready, all you had to do is wait for Kuroo, one of Bokuto’s best men, to tell you when it’s time for you to walk down the aisle.  

You were impatient, your leg was shaking now you knew how Bokuto felt when he rambled on how excited he was for you to become Bokuto Y/N. You finally heard a knock on the door and you dashed to open it,

“Kuroo, thank god you’re here!” you exclaim giving him a hug “I’ve been waiting ages for you, lets go! Take me to my future husband.” You pull his arm practically trying to run and see your man before Kuroo pulls your arm halting you.

“Y/N...” he says shifting his eye sight from left to right “I think we should sit down for a minute.”

“Why? Is he not here yet, gosh he’s always been late to things” you joke “but fine we can sit for a minute or two.”

As you sat, Kuroo turns his body to you putting his hands on your knees with his eyes looking sad “Y/N. I don’t know how to say this but...” he gulps putting his head down “there’s been an accident.”

“Accident? What do you mean accident? What happened? Is everyone okay.” you ask a bit frantically, since it would sad for someone to be hurt on your wedding day.

“That’s the thing Y/N, Bokuto he..”  

“Bokuto what? He’s okay.. Right?” you ask staring at Kuroo “He’s fine right?”

“No he isnt,” he says

“What do you mean he isn’t what happened, where is he? I need to see him.” you say getting up before Kuroo pulls you back down.

“He isn’t anywhere... well anywhere for you to see him. There weren’t enough cars for us, well there were but one of them the engine wasn’t starting and it sound a bit dodgy. But Bokuto said, he insisted for us all to be there. I even offered to let him take my spot in the other cars, I did Y/N I really did, but he promised us that he’d be fine. He left a bit before he did, saying that if he had chance to wander around the hotel it may calm his nerves. But when we were driving, we saw this car all mangled up on the side of the road, it was his. I told him not to drive that car, I told him and he did and I-” he rambled with tears pooling in his eyes “Im sorry Y/N im really sorry.”

“But why why didn’t you call?”

“He told us not too, he said that he wanted you be to as happy as you could be on this day as he knew it wouldn’t end with you becoming his wife.”

“But the ambulance, you called an ambulance right?”

“He was D.O.A, Akaashi went with him since he knew that he probably wouldn’t be able to deliver the news to you.”

“Why? Why did he leave me? On our wedding day, it was supposed to be our day and now hes gone Kuroo hes gone.” you wail, but kuroo wraps his arms around you in a brotherly hug as he cries too.  

That’s how you spend your wedding night, crying in your friends arms over the loss of your ‘husband’ and his ‘brother.’

Bokuto’s funeral was the week after, and it was not an event you were excited for. It was a hard day to get through, but you did it with the help of Kuroo and Akaashi. You visit Bokuto every year on your wedding anniversary talking to your husband even though it always reminds you of the day that never came to be.

This is the wedding angst that is a gift from me to you sweetheart @teesumu you can totally block me after this cause girll I cried whilst writing it.

If you want a nice ending to the bokuto story to make you feel better read this

General taglist [bold can’t be tagged]: @sakuxxi, @iimoonii, @hamdehlesmis, @Shoyosupremacy, @iambashfulperson, @kayleighbeccaa, @dearkousei, @bakugouswh0r3, @xedspirits @borpcorp, @soft-angel-clouds, @foxxtrot-116 @Xogiaaa, @jesssobs, @apple-poptarts @galagcica @letssssus, @random-734, [join the taglist here]

[fredshufflepuff]

Hii :)

Could I request a Marauders x Reader where the Marauders spent a lot of time without her and she feels like they don’t love her anymore or like they are just using her for sex.

But with a happy ending :)

Have a great day !!!

always love you || r.l x j.p x s.b ✧˖*°࿐

summary: the boys have been ignoring you for the past few days, making you wonder what you did wrong.

a/n: my first marauders imagine, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

warnings: poly!relationship, fem!reader, pet names, little angst, mentions of sex BUT NO ACTUAL SEX, crying, lots of fluff, feeling sad??? man idk

word count: idk a lot of words. LMAO SORRY it’s 1,468

you sat at the gryffindor table with wondering eyes, trying to find where your boyfriends could be as you nibbled on a piece of toast.

they’d usually meet you at breakfast, remus being the first one up, followed by james and then some time later sirius.

but when they never came, your stomach dropped and your mood soured. this was the third time they’ve skipped out on breakfast, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe this was your fault.

the boys loved to eat, no matter how busy or stressed they were, they would always join you for a quick snack.

but not recently.

recently you’ve felt like they’ve been avoiding you.

it was a crazy and paranoid thought, but these past few days have just been proving your suspicion.

“james!” you called out, the speckled boy snapping his head towards you with wide eyes, he looked just like a dear in the headlights.

you made your way through the sea of students, pushing lightly past students to get to the boy.

“hi jamesie” you smiled once you finally got to him, your arms wrapping around his torso out of instinct.

“h-hi” he stutter out, your eyebrows knitting together at his voice change. james never stuttered, unless he was hiding something.

“what’s wrong?”

“i just, havetogo” he rushed out, your arms dropping from his waist as he spun on his heel and walked off.

now you really felt like shit. why was he so jumpy? why was he so nervous? especially around you.

you couldn’t help but think back to the last time you hung out with the boys, the three of them fucking you in a broom closet after classes.

your stomach seemed to sink, not flutter when you thought about your last interaction with them. usually you’d be flustered, a little giggly maybe, but you just felt disgusted.

did you do something wrong during that intimate moment? maybe you did something they didn’t like, or said something that turned them off.

oh my god, did you turn them off? were they no longer attracted to you? is that why james tensed up when you hugged him?

you hadn’t realized you were crying until you felt your face get wet, your hands quickly and aggressively wiping under your eyes.

you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, and decide right there and then that the boys didn’t love you anymore. but it was hard, hard to see anything other than that.

throughout the day you kept yourself busy, going to your dorm to eat and hiding in the library to do your work—not like anyone was looking for you anyways.

“i saw her go in just minutes ago!” sirius whisper shouted, the boys standing outside your door debating on what to do.

they saw you brush past them in the common room without saying a word, no kisses or hugs, no anything.

which was extremely unusual of you. you were always affectionate with them, asking them how their days were while cuddling them in bed, something the boys loved and always looked forward too.

“are you sure?” james asked, sirius thumping him up side the head with a scowl, “of course i am!”

“sirius! knock it off” remus scolded, your boys bickering back and forth with each other—only waking you from your nap.

“i’m going to go in, stay here and don’t kill each other.”

you quickly turned on your side and closed your eyes, pretending you were asleep to avoid any type of interaction.

the door creaked open slowly, making you cringe to yourself as footsteps entered the room.

“y/n? love, are you awake?” remus’s soft voice spoke, the door closing behind him as he made his way over to the bed.

“pup, i know when you’re sleeping” he said, the mattress dipping as a hand cupped the side of your face.

“i’m sleeping” you mumbled, sarcasm laced in your words as you turned to stuff your face in the pillow.

remus’s face twisted in confusion, surprised by your sudden attitude towards him. you never acted like that towards him. james? somethings if he got on your nerves but it was rare. sirius? all the time.

but you never dared to with remus. he was the more gentle and soft one of the three boys, always giving you the opportunity to explain yourself and tell him what’s going on.

“what’s the problem, pup? why the attitude?” he asked, not wanting his temper to get the best of him.

something was obviously bothering you, he needed to comfort you, not snap at you for the way you were talking to him.

“do you love me anymore?”

your voice was muffled by the pillow but remus could hear you clearly, his heart dropping as soon as those words had left your mouth.

“do i love you anymore?! of course i do, i’ve never stopped. what made you think i didn’t?”

his hand dropped to your arm, urging you to look at him. but when you did, his stomach dropped when he saw the tears clouding your glossy eyes.

“oh baby” he cooed, not wasting anytime in bringing you into a much needed hug, his warming embrace comforting you immediately, “don’t cry, darling. just tell me what’s been on that pretty little mind of yours, tell me how i can help.”

“you’ll think i’m stupid...” you mumbled, hiding your face in his chest as wet tears stained his school shirt.

“you aren’t stupid, puppy. and neither are your feelings” he assured, his large hand resting on the small of your back while the other stroked your hair, something that always calmed you.

“i just...i-i thought you fell out of love with me because you’ve been avoiding me. not intentionally i guess, but james was definitely odd with me, l-like he didn’t want to be around m-me” your voice cracked, the thought of your boys not loving you back clouding your thoughts.

remus sighed lowly after your mini rant, your heart clenching as you couldn’t help but look up at him.

“w-what?” you asked, really not wanting to know what he had to say, as you only feared for the worst.

“james wants to be around you, everyone does. but i told him to stay away” he said, your eyebrows knitting together as your mouth opened slightly, but remus had cut you off, “you know jamesie can’t keep a secret for the life of him.”

“mhm” you nodded, “b-but what secret?”

“our anniversary is coming up—me, padfoot and prongs wanted to surprise you with a nice, relaxing dinner in the astronomy tower. i just didn’t want james accidentally ruining the surprise—but, i guess i just did that, didn’t i?” remus laughed to himself, his explanation making your heart swell but break at the same time.

they were planning a dinner for you? you felt like shit, instead of letting them do their thing without question, you assumed the worst. you assumed they didn’t love you anymore and were only using you for one thing, sex.

“i’m sorry, remus” you whispered, his eyes widening as he quickly comforted you. “no, pup. you have no reason to be sorry.”

“b-but i-”

“did nothing wrong. you had every right to get upset, i should’ve taped prongs mouth shut instead of keep him away” he said, half joking as you giggled stiffly.

“so...you aren’t mad?” you asked, your boyfriend tucking a piece of lose hair behind your ear before kissing the tip of your nose.

“i could never be mad at you, pup. i love you so much.”

“i love you too, remus” you smiled, cuddling into his chest as he hugged you tightly.

“can we come in now?”

“almost forgot about those knuckle heads” remus mumbled, another giggle leaving your lips as your two boys entered the room.

“everything okay in here, pup?” james asked, a pout on his face when he noticed the tears stained into your cheeks.

“now it is” you smiled assuringly, ushering for him to join you along with sirius.

“although i think you look hot covered in tears, i don’t like you feeling unloved” sirius said, speaking up as he sat next to you, his hand column to on your back.

“i never said unloved...just-”

“hey, it was only a few days” remus cut off, the pad of his thumb running under your eye softly, “but i promise you we’ll do everything for you to feel included. even if that involves planning a date for our girl.”

“which, just by the way, i didn’t spoil this time!” james pointed out, a smile on your face as remus shoved him playfully.

“you all owe me kisses from the last three days” you said, turning around in remus’s lap so you could toss your legs over sirius’s thighs, a warm smile on his face.

“we’ll do more than that, pup. don’t you worry.”

marauders tag list 🏷 @fjorelaant @drachoesimp @msmb @pinkandblueblurbs @roonilwazlibswhore @dlmmdl @dagirlintheback @onyourgoddamnleft @moonyinthelight @iamnibbsi @samineisntmyname @amourtentiaa @elizabethrosedarling @authorb @justasmolballofstress @persephonestoad @letmereadpls @escapingrealitybyreading

[tauforged]

brooo do you have a laz lore master post i wanna see more about this guy . blorbo from my person i follow on tumblr

waaa im so glad u like him!!!!!! his lore is kinda.....scattered all over unfortunately hdsjnkfdjkfn im very unorganized. the main big posts that ive made about him in recent memory that i havent accidentally retconned are here (eternalism bullshit and how the his drifter and operator selves tie into the version we know and love) here (answering a bunch of questions about him) aaaaaaaaaand here (explaining a little bit about how his oculus and void echolocation works)

his tag is kinda sparsely populated cuz a lot of his character building has been happening behind the scenes and i havent shared much due to being forgetful as hell and for the longest time sorta just assuming nobody cared about him but me lmao BUT i can give you a rundown of everything ive got so far: (it's gonna be long, sorry in advance)

on the zariman, he was separated from the other kids and ended up hiding in a ventilation shaft to avoid the adults. he hid so well, in fact, that the orokin actually almost missed him entirely and nearly left him there when they were collecting the tenno after the void jump. he was so paralyzed by fear and pain that at first, they had assumed he was a corpse, and only realized otherwise when he freaked the hell out and blew a massive hole through the poor bastard they sent to go drag him out of the vents.

in the aftermath of the zariman and for most of the old war, he was sort of just... squirreled away and treated more like a feral animal than a kid. he was jumpy and uncooperative, his connection to the void was strong enough that he could do some serious damage when startled, and he didn't remember most of his life before the zariman incident at all, so he was difficult to reason with and in their eyes a waste of time. he didn't even remember his own name, so they called him 'Lazarus' as a reference to the fact that he was assumed to be dead when first recovered, and seemed to be pretty good at surviving against the odds. eventually he just accepted this as his name.

im not entirely sure if margulis knew about him or not... i feel as though she would want to help him, but he probably wouldn't trust her one bit. ive been tempted to go all in and say he couldve been the tenno who accidentally blinded her, which would lend credence to why the orokin felt the need to isolate him so thoroughly from everyone else, but i dont know if im gonna commit to that. as far as being a 'weaponized' tenno, he was treated as sort of a last resort.

he only had the one frame during the old war - he was paired off with a particularly uncooperative umbral ash that they weren't sure would even be able to be 'controlled', but despite most of the handlers assuming theyd tear eachother to shreds, they ended up sharing a really close bond. This ash is his primary frame, Styx! styx is like a father to him, really. they only ever had eachother for a very very long time.

he only ever saw combat once before the war ended. the orokin were getting desperate, and threw pretty much everyone they had at a particular area-- including laz. he had no idea what to do with himself, but he was suddenly outside of his 'room' (more of a holding cell, to be frank) for the first time in years, so he did what any sensible scared kid would do-- he ran for his fucking life. before his handlers realized where he'd gone and tried to interrupt his transference to his frame, he transferred out of his chair completely and essentially escaped for good. they assumed he wouldnt survive on his own and marked it down as a loss, but he was ultimately forgotten. one less little void demon to deal with, really.

he ran for a long time, just sorta trying to get as far away from anything and everything orokin as he possibly could, but too afraid of being recaptured to dare trust anyone he met along the way. at some point before the end of the war, he had a run-in with a lone sentient that cornered him, and he had no choice but to try and defend himself.

he lost this fight. the sentient very much killed him, but in his final moments, all of the void energy trapped inside his body was released like a bomb going off, which killed the sentient pretty much instantly. the implosion also created a weird little pocket void of sorts that pulled in his body and the bits and pieces of the sentient that were left behind. slowly, over the years, the void pieced him back together, replacing whatever was destroyed with pieces of sentient technology, essentially creating the first amalgam.

the entire time laz was in his void coma, styx was helpless to retrieve him. he knew he wasn't gone - he could still feel his presence - but he couldn't get through to him.... so he waited. and waited. and waited some more. eventually, the ruined old building they'd been in all but collapsed, plants began to grow through the foundation, his joints began to rust and his blades tarnished. grineer and corpus and infested alike discovered the place over the years and all were promptly slaughtered in fits of protective rage. by the time another tenno stumbled across his resting place, the old war was ancient history, and the lotus had already located and awakened most of her children-- but laz had never had a chance to form that connection with her. he barely knew margulis, let alone natah.

the tenno who eventually found him and woke him up was none other than @helmofhades' specialest boy Rigel! they have a very special relationship. i love them both deeply. by the time rigel had found him, he'd been mostly put back together-- but the somatic scars on his face had progressed to the point where his eyes were damaged beyond repair. rigel and the other tenno who eventually made up their little clan helped him get back on his feet and adjust to this strange new world he found himself in.

laz and rigel are basically married if it wasnt obvious already. they are boy best friends <3

he went through the main story quest more or less the same as happens in the game, although he never really had a very close connection with the lotus and was more wary of her and confused by her for than anything for a very long time-- at least until the new war, anyway

the drifter and the operator are two separate entities - but there's also a third, completely separate laz who is basically a conglomerate of all of his alternate selves. i call this special third guy 'laz prime' to make life easier for myself, but neither of them are any more 'real' than the others.

operator laz is him but in babymode. nothing much else to that. hes just a little guy, and its his birthday, hes a little birthday boy!!!

drifter laz i uh... kinda havent touched on much. im waiting for duviri to drop so i can really get into the nitty gritty of all the time loop bullshit. hes kinda a bitter asshole though. not that i blame him.

laz prime is the funny guy i post about so much!!!! after the cutscene in the new war where the drifter and operator meet, neither of those two actually LEAVE that dormizone, at least not in the version of reality we see-- their meeting causes laz prime to just sorta... start existing! he remembers being both of them, although only vaguely. it's him who finishes the quest, and it's him who eventually returns to the zariman for the angels update and all that fun stuff. im sure driftlaz and oplaz are still out there, doing their own thing, but i havent the slightest clue what that may be.

laz prime is more severely amalgamated than either of his counterparts-- while theyve got the horns, hooves, and claws, laz prime takes it up a notch with an extra set of arms and a tail! he's also absurdly huge.

he has a cane to help with the mobility issues caused by having to balance on those teeny tiny itty bitty stick legs-- it's actually a little sentient! he calls it a mobilyst. it's his little buddy. i really like it

laz prime can't really use amps in the traditional way, considering his sentient parts react very poorly to large concentrations of void energy. he pieces together makeshift weapons with cores and fragments he scavenges from other sentients or amalgams that he kills to make up for it. he can also breathe void-fire, but he doesn't do that very often because it singes his scruffy little beard :( love loses

his lack of ability to effectively channel amps makes him VERRRY very interested in traditional weaponry. he's especially fond of incarnons-- JUST because theyre cool weapons. no other reason. none at all. unrelated, but do you think cavalero likes men? asking for a friend.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 10: Demolition Lovers

summary: deviating from tlou timeline for a moment. joel, ellie, and you find yourselves a nice reprieve from all the bullshit that has plagued you all in recent days. ellie seems to come in and out of her shell stemming from her traumatic experience and joel and you come to an understanding of each other, one much more solid than before.

word count: 4,309

content warnings: none, just heavy flirting, a couple curses

notes: sorry ive been missing, i appreciate all the love from yall and i promise i didnt forget. Danger Days is pretty much 100% finished on my end when it comes to the full tlou timeline including part 2 but.... i decided i was going to take tlou and Danger Days and develop them with new scenery and characters and make this more of my own story with bonus interactions we wish we could have had yknow? so, without further ado, enjoy <3ps: this chapter is dedicated to the ever so lovely sabs. thank you for screaming with me about all the degenerate things we wish we could do with joel and letting me bounce ideas off you. you deserve the world, i love you.

read on ao3 here / masterlist

It had been nearing a full month since the unfortunate events at the lakeside lodge, Joel was thankfully healing up very well and looked really good. All things considered. Even now he looked much better than before sitting atop Whiskey as you and Ellie walked beside him.

You chance a glance to him, the sun only getting in your eye momentarily but you could see just how much he’s changed since you met him that day at the power plant. You noticed how his beard was beginning to become just that much more grey and the lines around his eyes were more prominent than usual, just like the ones on his forehead and around his brown eyes.

Things between you were not great, but they weren’t bad either. He seemed to take to this new dynamic in your relationship well. You? Well, you weren’t going to be taking any of it for granted. He seemed to have finally seen you for who you are, no longer the stranger that tagged along but you.

It was nice.

“Hey,” Joel started, pulling you from your thoughts, “I never got to thank either o’ you for saving my life, so, thank you.”

Both you and Ellie were a bit taken back at his gratitude. “Yeah, no problem, just don’t do it again,” Ellie replied.

“What exactly happened anyway? I don’t…,” he gets lost trying to recall the memories.

You look ahead, scanning the freeway the three of you had been walking on for quite some time now before you told him. “The rebar went through you surprisingly clean. Didn't shred you as much as I thought,” you started. “I used pretty much all the disinfectant I had to get it clean, the puncture wouldn’t have killed you but the infection that was already settling in.” You implied the rest, letting your voice trail.

“We found a little place to hole up for a while, trying to stuff gauze into the wounds and used a helluva lot of duct tape to keep you from falling apart,” you chuckled.

“America’s finest invention,” Joel snorted.

“Ellie went looking for more medical supplies while I looked over you,” you continued. “It was really touch and go for the first couple weeks.”

“I jumped into a helicopter!”

Joel looked at you and you nodded a hint of a smile in your voice, “She jumped into a helicopter, we kicked some people’s ass, it was a whole thing.” You waved your hand around emphasizing how bizarre it all was.

“What else happened when I was out,” he asked.

A sigh escaped you. “Taught Ellie how to shoot with the handguns, we both trained with the bow a bit, ate a ton of squirrels and rabbits.”

Ellie jumped in, “And she even taught me some hand-to-hand!”

“Only so you would stop biting people, Ellie! You don’t know where people have been only for you to take a chunk out with your mouth,” you laugh.

Joel does too, as does Ellie, “Yeah, I don’t think biting is a safe option if you want to keep your teeth, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up you old bats.”

Soon the silence encompassed you all again, only the sounds of Whiskey trotting beside you and the occasional shift of Joel distrubed you all. You knew how uncomfortable the saddle was but if he was on foot, the three of you would be moving a lot slower.

You’d been on this path for Salt Lake City for quite some time now, and a fast mental check of supplies told you that you’d run out of food far too soon before that. A shudder wracked through you when those twirling thoughts reminded you of what people can do when they’re hungry. Memories of David and his group flashed through your mind.

How many had they killed?

How many had they eaten?

The path you were following along the freeway to Salt Lake City was slowly becoming more and more daunting, only stopping every so often to scavenge for food. Sure enough, it was slowly becoming scarce yet again the further you traveled into mountainous scenery that was flanked with what seemed to be some wildlands.

“Why don’t we stop over there for the night,” Ellie asked. She pointed off the freeway, to what looked to be a natural reserve, trees aplenty. If there were luscious greenery, that meant food, that meant water.

It didn’t take much to convince Joel or you to approve of the stop, agreeing that it was a nice spot off the freeway, a nice place to scavenge, and a nice place to rest for a day or two in some shade. Since it was also within a mile from the freeway, it was nice to know none of you were about to be surrounded by trouble. Being this far out into the countryside, it was nearly tranquil knowing that infected and hunters weren’t nearby. You could all relax for a moment. If only a moment.

Joel dropped from Whiskey with a mild groan, his hand on his stomach. “Damn, it still hurts.”

“Of course it does, you pierced your organs and muscles,” you chastise sarcastically. “That’s why your ass is still on my horse and poor Ellie and I are walkin’.”

“Yeah, old man,” Ellie jokes.

“Great, now she’s taking after you, brat,” he throws at you.

You give him a playful smile as your trio heads a little further past the treeline, bringing dear Whiskey with you. With all the grass nearby, he’ll be eating good for a while. Maybe you'll try to make room in your pack for some extra feed for him. Stars know he deserves it.

The woods were kind of dense the further you looked on, the moisture retained within the leafy canopy. It would be perfect to scavenge for water here, you thought. “Why don’t you two get a fire goin’, I think I see some deer tracks a little over there,'' you pointed in the distance.

“Alright,” Joel agrees, “Ellie, help me find some shit to burn.”

“Aw, sweet!”

You laugh a little at the duo and walk off, a rifle in hand. As you find your ways to the footprints laid in the mud, you get to reminiscing a tiny bit. Grateful for the privacy.

Although your little troupe had been galavanting through three different mountainous states for months now, it was sufficient to say that things were coming together very naturally. Joel and you would still argue, always bitching back and forth on some of the most mundane and idiotic things. He still couldn’t seem to wrap his mind around the fact you just really preferred his brother over him, it’s not your fault that Tommy was at least likable.

Even with the banter, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Because at the end of the day, as the sun settled and the moon replaced it high in the sky, you were still wondering what it would feel like to feel those rough fingers alongside the softest and most intimate parts of you. How disgusting.

You shook your head, chiding yourself for still being horny all these weeks later.

Sounds off to your left pull you from those inappropriate thoughts. The shuffling grew slightly louder and you dropped to a crouch. Adjusting the rifle in your hand you also held your breath, watching as a young buck came into view. It was beautiful, young, and most of all meaty. The buck was big enough to eat happily for a couple days without wasting anything, maybe even saving the hide would trade well or be a nice gift for Jackson when you’d return. Leather was always needed.

In the beginning of the outbreak, it hurt to put down such magnificent creatures but your survival meant everything. The least you could do was honor the beasts afterwards for giving you a full belly.

For a long time you wondered in awe how some animals reacted to you while on hunting duty, how little they reacted. Almost as if since the breakout, these animals knew that humans were more of a threat to themselves than to them. A few times you recalled getting rather friendly with some only to find their bodies laid in some trap. It tugged and pulled at your heart but, what could you do?

When you returned, the young buck in tow behind you, Joel and Ellie were in deep conversation that stopped abruptly once you came into view. The fire was crackling rather well in front of them as they sat on a thrown over log and the scene warmed your heart despite that hint of curiosity tingling your lips. It died down once you thought about where Ellie’s mind was.

She had been taking her first - well her first murder - pretty harshly. You couldn’t blame her, especially not after finding out the whole town was full of cannibals and David intended on eating her. She hadn’t been taking it well, the brutality and violence of it all.

Once Joel even asked for advice on how to talk her through things, making you feel for the man. It wasn’t easy traveling with a teenager, puberty and all that teen angst. It was even worse with a teenager coupled with one traumatic event after another, paired on top with a brutal life-or-death situation. It was a lot for a person to handle, how everything changed as fast as the wind blows, never mind a teenager born into this forsaken reality.

As you made a noisy approach, you saw how they flashed the other a sharp look which rekindled the curiosity inside you as they rose to their feet looking to help you with the deer.

“Hey,” Ellie got your attention, “Nice catch.”

“Thanks,” you say, handing it off to Joel. If there was anything you had learned from the man, it was that regardless of his injuries he would still do everything he could. As if he wasn’t knocking on death’s door.

It was something you kind of loved about him.

Okay, yes, fine. Fine, fine, fine.

You finally fucking admitted that maybe, possibly, kind of, sort of, you were pining after the mean old bastard. It kind of hurt every time you thought about it but this wasn’t the time nor place to do a damned thing about it. So you soldiered on. As you always do.

Joel made himself comfortable near the fire and began skinning the buck. You idled around, taking inventory of various supplies and listened as Joel gifted Ellie the antlers, suggesting the two of them could possibly forge them into nice arrowheads. You decided to leave once again, opting to look for water rather than staying to watch Joel work.

With the snow melting, you figured it was February. Who’s to say, honestly. Regardless, it meant spring and warmth which also meant - water. It wouldn’t be very sanitary water but you weren’t going to complain, especially with your dwindling supply in your various canteens. You trekked on with only a simple acknowledging smile and nod to Joel and left. You took Ellie’s large pack filled with only the mixed canteens and your knives to be safe. This forest area didn’t seem to have many, if any, apex predators. Possibly bears but it was far too early for them to be waking from hibernation. Better safe than sorry anyways.

Following the trail of growing greenery, you eventually stumbled upon the sounds of a rushing river and you picked up your pace. It was wild and rapid, likely unsafe for a full bath but you could make do with a quick dip to wash off. It would do you all some good.

In the beginning, you were nearly made sick when your showers were rationed out to once a week but nowadays, it was a sacrifice that had to be made. Like bras. At least with those, you were kind of grateful to live without the metal constantly jabbing you in the ribs.

You dropped to your knees by some rocks and gave a slow look around, trying to take notice if there was any movement or if it was safe. It would be a lot harder to hear trouble over the sounds of the river so it was best to keep your eyes open. Finding no such danger, you went to work.

Unloading all of your bottles, you tried to fill them up as fast as you could. Each of you carried two or three canteens for this journey, water was much harder to come by than safe food.

It didn’t take long to fill each of them up and you were overjoyed to feel the heavy weight in the backpack. The sound of the water sloshing in them nearly made you weep. For the first time in a while, you felt the tinglings of hope.

Looking around you once again and noticing nothing unusual, you began to remove your clothes and tucked them by the backpack, lodging them securely by the rocks away from the river and dipped in, not venturing out more than knee height.

The water was cold as shit, sending shivers up your spine and pebbling your skin but it was a welcomed sensation all around. Kneeling in the water, you washed yourself as best you could. Although your body was now relatively clean, your hair was an entirely different fight.

Your hair was so much longer than you ever kept it, it’s not like hairdressers really existed anymore. Most of the time people cut their own in Jackson or shaved their heads entirely. It wasn’t something you were particularly keen on doing so you decided to try and rinse as much of the built up grime as you could, doing anything possible to make the knots loose.

It was a good idea but you didn’t make it very far. Frustration at all the knots just made you quit almost as soon as you started. The harsh pulls rose tears to your eyes, doubled by your frustration. Resigned, you gave up and threw it into something that could resemble a bun and made your way back to the rocks, cursing the whole way back.

Now clean, wet, and all kinds of mad at your appearance, you put your clothes back on and aimed back for the camp. Hopefully one or the other of your companions will help you with your hair.

As you reached the little nest, Ellie ran out to meet you. “Holy shit, you were gone so long!”

“Language,” you chided.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” she laughed then paused, taking in the sight of you. “Why are you all wet?”

“Found a river,” you said while shrugging off the backpack and settling it down. “And I took a bath, felt nice.”

Ellie seemed to perk up at that, “A bath does sound nice. Joel needs one especially.”

A moment after she said that, a jacket was thrown into her face. “I heard that,” Joel said while walking up to the two of you.

You snorted down a laugh. “How's dinner comin’?”

“Quartered up the meat enough and if we’re smart about it, it can last us until we hit Salt Lake City,” he said. You took him in and noticed he changed into one of his lighter green flannels, one that you thought looked good on him. One that you, maybe, fantasized a couple times on those lonely nights removing from his broad shoulders and kissing, licking, nipping, a path downward to his-

“Good, yeah, that’s good,” you pulled yourself out from your thoughts just as you felt your face grow warmer with the flood of inappropriate thoughts.

Thankfully Ellie and Joel wrapped themselves back into the conversation they were in before, one you caught snippets of as you began to try and make camp. Something about target practice for Ellie in the morning.

The rest of the afternoon lulled into a safe and comfortable day, one none of you had in quite some time. One where nobody was injured or fighting or scavenging. Just feeling grateful for the food and security of the forest. It seemed nice to let the day pass by like this but you decided to do at least one productive thing.

“Joel?”

He didn’t look up from his work, the little piece of wood was already beginning to take shape within his hands. You wonder what else he could do with those steady and controlled fingers.

“Joel,” you ask again, this time a little louder.

Startled, he stopped his ministrations. “Yeah?”

“Do you mind giving me a hand?”

“What’d’ya need?” He lowered the small blade and the wood piece, turning to face you completely.

You pulled out one of your own knives and saw how he tensed. Did he think you were going to hurt him? “Relax, Joel. I would only stab you if you asked nicely,” you slyly flirted watching how he relaxed his body but furrowed his brows.. “Anyways, I was hoping you could help me with cutting my hair?”

He looked over to Ellie who was encompassed by some comic book she had slowly been collecting with Joel’s help who only gave the two of you a thumbs up, not even bothering to look away from the pages.

Joel stood, and a grunt escaped him as he stood, likely feeling sore from being slouched over carving into that piece of wood. “Damn, you’re old,” you teased.

He only gave you a stern look which made you smile. You loved old things and maybe he was your favorite.

The walk to the river was silent in the beginning, only the sounds of your shuffled walk could be heard mingling with the sounds of swaying leaves and the occasional trill of a bird or two.

Until Joel cleared his throat.

He said your name a tad firmly, “Been meaning to apologize to you.”

“Oh?”

“For the way I spoke at ya, back then.”

Back then? Back when he threatened to leave you? Back when he hurt you sharper than any blade? Back when you were willing to do anything to save his life, to save Ellie, even if that meant giving up your own in the process?

You slowed, taking a glance at Joel. He was stoic as usual, the only signs of his unease was in his voice, otherwise he looked to be just the same man you'd come to know.

“Things were tense,” you shrug, picking up your pace. “Don't blame you.”

“It was uncalled for and rude.”

“Yes,” you paused, “but we wanted to get Ellie somewhere safe.”

He grumbled to himself something incoherent to your ears but you trekked on. You didn’t get much further before you felt his large fingers grasp your arm. You didn’t say anything, only looked into his brown eyes. He seemed to stand taller as he said, “I’m sorry.”

A sad smile coated your lips, “I know.”

“Can I ask you somethin’ personal,” he asked after a beat of silence. He let your arm go and you hummed an acknowledgement and gestured to him to go on. The two of you walking towards the river.

“Can your brother be trusted?”

That stops you dead in your tracks. Joel continues walking, not idling besides you or waiting for a response. Your brows furrow as you reply, “If you were to have asked me that five years ago, I would have said ‘yes’ without hesitation but--.” A heavy sigh escapes you but you admitted it anyway. “He's the main reason why I left the Fireflies.”

The heaviness looms between you.

“My siblings and I weren't,” you stumble, “we used to be close. Look out for each other, y’know?”

Joel hummed, guessing as much as he and Tommy used to be close.

“I'm the reason why my sister didn't make it. I left her to die. He always hung it over my head.”

Joel didn’t prompt you, he just kept walking waiting for you to continue. For a moment you just focused on the leaves crunching beneath your feet before you said, “I let go of her hand. She fell behind and the infected swarmed to her. He never forgave me for it.”

That stopped him dead in his tracks as he faced you and put his hand on your shoulder, “You were just a kid.”

You shrugged off his touch and kept walking, “Maybe so. I eventually forgave myself but he couldn’t look past it. Whenever there was a mission the Fireflies wanted done, he’d argue with Marlene to keep me back but she liked that I was already numb to killing. So the compromise was that I couldn’t do anything alone without somebody who was willing to go to the same length as I was and could hold their weight.”

“That how you met Tommy?”

“Yeah, he was like my babysitter. He was the one to really pull me back into my head. I owe him more than my life.”

The two of you carried on in silence until he spoke up, “You’re loyal to them. Tommy and Maria.”

It wasn’t so much as a question but an insight to his thinking, an assessment of you, but you answered him anyway. “I owe Tommy my life but I owe them for helping me see myself more clearly, giving me a reason to want to survive, to live, and enjoy my life.”

That was the pinnacle of everything. It was easy to fall into these slips of dullness, living day by day but nothing worthwhile. It was easy to just survive in this world where it was kill or be killed if not by the infected then by hunters or by people just doing the same- surviving at whatever the cost.

Life before the cordyceps virus was plagued by who was in love with whom, worrying about work or school, stressing over money or family drama.

“I see,” he mumbles, taking you out of your thoughts. Your gaze met his and before you could say anything, he gestures up. It took you a moment to gather what he was saying but you heard the sound of the river rushing, “Looks like we’re here.”

The two of you kept silent as you walked forward. His silence was putting you on edge and for a moment you wished you knew what he was thinking. If he was deeming you untrustworthy or something of a liability.

But still, you said nothing as you began to remove your clothes.

Stripped down to a tank and shorts, you waded into the water. It was deliciously cold, just as you remembered. Joel followed behind you after whispering an expletive at the freezing temperatures. He was stripped down to his boxers, leaving his broad chest bare. You felt yourself flush but waited for Joel to meet you at the shallow part of the river you found a nook made of rocks.

You sat down, the water quickly rushed up to your waist, just teasing under your breast. It really was fucking cold in the water but with the grunts and hisses coming from Joel behind you, your body was quickly warming up. The sounds being quietly filed away in your mind to be recalled at… a certain moment when you’d be alone with a sad hand between your legs.

He settled behind you and you felt his strong thighs around you. He tugged gently on your hair, as you tilted your head back, closing your eyes. The river flowed endlessly around you both, washing away thoughts and drowning out worries.

“Are you sure,” he asked. His voice, although gruff, was tinted with caution. Or maybe it was still coated with that flash of uncertainty you caught in his eye earlier as you revealed more to him than anybody in Jackson before.

You nodded, “It’ll be safer this way and easier to manage.”

“I’ll try to salvage as much as I can,” he grumbled.

He quietly got to work, undoing the mess of braids you had failed trying to subdue. He was gentle as much as he could but you could almost feel his frustration. “Just cut it, Joel. It’ll be fine.”

“I-,” he stumbled.

You lowered a hand onto one of his thighs. “I trust you, big boy.”

Did you immediately feel your face heat? Yes.

Did you miss the way his thigh tensed under your palm? Nope.

Were you gonna regret the slip? Who the fuck knows.

“Call me ‘big boy’ one more time,” he jokingly threatened.

“What’re you gonna do? Spank me?”

Ah, fuck.

Sometimes, just sometimes, you wish you’d shut your whore mouth or else you’d really find yourself in big trouble with the man.

You didn’t know what kind of reaction you’d get from Joel but what you weren’t expecting was the low sound of him trying to swallow a huff that turned into full blown laughter. The light air between the two of you allowed you to laugh with him as he tugged at your tangles again, “C’mon let’s cut this nest off ya.”

He took your knife and you felt him tug and pull at your hair. His rough fingers threaded themselves into your locks as he pulled it as taught as he could.

“Don’t move,” he says slowly behind you. The rumble of it sends shivers down your spine until he whispers as a gentle tug on your hair pulls your head back lightly, “Good girl.”

In a swift motion with your sharpened blade, he cut through a chunk of it. For a moment you let your eyes open as your heart pounded in your chest so loudly you swore it echoed off the nearby trees. You didn’t turn to face him, in fact you did nothing but watched as the strands disappeared in the water.

[nevertheless-moving]

Suicidal Misunderstanding VII

Star Wars Time Travel AU #27

Part I - - - Part II - - - Part III - - - Part IV - - - Part V - - - Part VI

CONTENT WARNING: Please be advised this chapter may contain triggering material. More detail available in tags. 

It wasn’t until Anakin was staring at the hot sauce bottles and solitary mysterious green takeout container that he remembered they were at war, and therefore no longer in the habit of restocking the apartment’s cold stasis.

“Obi-Wan, there’s nothing to eat!” 

"I know!” came the call back. “I’m trying to meditate!”

Anakin closed the stasis door and walked back out to the common room. Obi-Wan sat crosslegged on the window sill.

“Do or do not, there is no try,” the knight quipped.

Obi-Wan opened his eyes to look fondly at the man standing before him. Maybe tomorrow, when he woke alone in a dusty desert hovel, he would regret letting himself play pretend for so long. Maybe this whole day would fade from his memory like a dream.

But right now, he felt... peaceful. He wouldn’t claim to be satisfied by the explanations he imagined for Anakin, but it would have been far more disturbing if he somehow came up with an actually sympathetic justification for genocide. He got to say and hear a number of goodbyes. He even got to cry over Anakin with the comfort of his presence. 

Now he had to let go, to be there for Luke. (And he could always get more spice...)

“I guess if you need to meditate, I can go pick us up food from the Temple Tapcaf.” Anakin offered. 

“Thank you, Anakin. Today...helped. More than I can explain.” Obi-Wan said softly.

“I- I don’t really deserve that. Considering it was all my fault.” Anakin bowed his head, helpless for words, but uncomfortable with being praised.

“Not every terrible thing that has happened is your fault. You made a series of terrible choices, yes. But there were, there are, other dark forces at work and not a single Jedi in the order was able to stop them. At least for a short time today I was able to set that aside, so for what it’s worth, thank you.”

“Kriff.” Anakin said shocked. “Of course there’s more. Ok. That’s all right, we-” he was cut off by a growl from Obi-Wan’s stomach. 

A snort of laughter escaped before Anakin smacked a hand over his mouth. “Alright, I’m going to the Tapcaf, you just...meditate until I get back.”

Obi-Wan swallowed and nodded, “I love you so much.” 

“Force Obi-Wan, you’re going to make me start crying again.” He pulled him into a bear hug. “Don’t do anything stupid while I’m not gone, ok? Just...meditate. And drink some water.”

"Hmm, I don’t know. Some of my best choices recently have been stupid,” Obi-Wan laughed. The words were light, but Anakin felt a prickle of unease, a hint of danger. There was no clear cause, and Obi-Wan seemed relaxed but...

Anakin gripped his Master’s shoulders, staring him dead in the eye. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “I promise.” He pulled Anakin down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Goodbye, Anakin.”

"I’ll be back in 20 minutes.” He paused, then mumbled, “i love you too” before speeding out the door.

Obi-Wan settled back into meditation, reaching inwards. Everything but his body and the light within faded. He magnified his hunger, his thirst, visualizing the pack of dried jerky in his hut, the precious jars of water in the basement. He could almost feel the heat that never quite abandoned Tatooine, even during the short nights. He opened his eyes

and saw the temple apartment.

He shut them again quickly. He was sure he could snap himself out of this. He sank deeper inward, careful to leave his shields perfectly intact. With the galaxy as dim as it was, a real show of force had the potential to grab attention across star systems. Force purging toxins, fortunately, was more a matter of internal concentration than outward power. It was one of the first skills Obi-Wan had truly mastered as a Jedi, thanks to numerous kidnappings at the start of his apprenticeship and hard drinking towards the end. 

It was uncomfortable to be that keenly aware of one’s kidneys, but Obi-Wan managed. It was less intense than a healing trance, anyway. His heart rate increased as various metabolic processes sped up- and almost immediately slowed down. Huh. The drug must of almost run its natural course, and now he 

still in the temple.

Kark. Shit. 

‘Breathe’ he thought. Stress was only going to increase his chances of a stroke. Alright, so meditation wasn’t working. Maybe he could try for longer, but part of him was nervous that if ‘Anakin’ returned he’d lose the willpower, and so far the passage of time had been extremely linear. He was too invested in the fantasy at this point for anything easy.

Remember your training. Your eyes can deceive you, do not trust them. 

Padawans were taught three main methodologies to move beyond mindtricks, hallucinations, visions, and the like. Looking In, Reaching Out, and Breaking Out. 

Looking in wasn’t working. That left the other two options. In the past, when his senses were lying to him he could always trust in the force, but now...it was just too much risk. Reaching out like that, with his whole self, meant the chance of finding someone.

That left breaking out. Obi-Wan jumped up, staring intensely at the details in the molding, the stains on the carpet, at everything. At no point today had he spotted objects fading to grey in the corner his vision, or ripple as memories from different time frames overlapped, but surely there must be some weak point.

Nothing. 

Shit, he really had stayed too long. Alright then, time for more uncivilized measures.

He walked to the kitchen and pulled their butcher’s vibroblade from its block, holding it to his neck, then hesitated.

This had to be done, but it didn’t make it any less unsettling. It was his own fault for lingering in the delusion so long; all the more palatable paths to escape had closed off, and after all he had been through he refused to die from a drug overdose. Gods, it might take years for someone to find the body.

He steeled himself, bringing the blade back up decisively only to drop it with a clatter. Pressing a hand to his throat, he was unnerved but not entirely surprised to find a stinging line of pain. His hand came away wet with blood. He instinctively pressed both hands to the cut, pulse rapid and heavy and slippery beneath his palms.

It’s just a hallucination. It’s just an extremely vivid hallucination.

A thought occurred to Obi-Wan then, and he felt something in the pit of his stomach drop in horror.

What if...what if the blade was real. What if he was actually moving around his home right now, hazily sleepwalking in a pantomime of the peaceful stroll and tender embraces he was imagining. It would explain the immediate relief from the water this morning...hadn’t he found his way to food and water even dazed from sleep-debt and blood-loss during the war?

He had a vibroblade in the desert too...

His pulse pounded harder beneath his hands. The cut wasn’t even that deep, but for the first time Obi-Wan felt the true existential horror of his current trap well up. If he didn’t know where the walls were...how could he escape.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging and letting go of his panic.

He had the force. He would just have to be delicate in his application. He picked up the bloodied tool from the floor but decided to simply to clip it to his belt for now. A force-null object would be harder to distinguish at first touch.

Obi-Wan walked to his temple bedroom and opened the barest crack in his shields, just enough to reach out, get a sense of existing currents in the force. He stirred at one until a small vortex of light formed. To anyone looking, it would appear a naturally occurring, low-powered whirlpool, common enough on Tattoine. Any gentle moves he made in the minutes before it fell apart would hopefully be obscured by its wake.

He hesitantly laid a hand on the lightsaber on his bedside table, lowering his shields a little further. His heart sunk when he realized that his memory had even recreated the perception of force-imbued temple walls in the periphery. The Kyber in his saber reverberated with a familiar song. He jerked his hand away. That felt too much like his real lightsaber. He couldn’t risk it. 

Before Obi-Wan truly began to panic again, he realized something missing. Anakin’s- Darth Vader’s saber. Since picking it up on Mustafar, the crystal in it had screamed at him, halfway to corruption. When he touched the blade he could almost feel... feel what horrors it had been bent to commit.

Most of the time he left it buried under a rock pile in his basement, too afraid to work on healing it.

He couldn’t hear it now- but he could feel the memory of what it used to be.

It sat innocently on his Anakin’s bedside table. There was a tinge of darkness to it of course- this saber had only ever known war. But when he rested a hand on the blade it was clear this belonged to the memory he had walked with today, not the tyranny of reality.

Grasping it firmly, he marched back to the windowsill and settled, intent on his choice. Sunsets here couldn’t compare to tattooine- they were just too different. The binary play transformed the infinite horizon. It was something on Tatooine he unabashedly marveled at.

Courasant, on the other hand, transformed the sun into a reflection of itself. Untold millions of transparisteel buildings refracted the star painfully at some points while casting shadows on the rest. The filter of light through constant smog resulted in strange shades of neon green and blood red. It was beautiful, but uncomfortable to look at too long.

He closed his eyes and pressed the saber to his chest.

---

Anakin was impatiently waiting in the hot service line when the urge to return to his apartment insistently welled up again. He pushed it back of course- Obi-Wan needed food and Anakin couldn’t keep putting his own selfish impulses in front of his Master’s wellbeing.

He held out for a few seconds, but the itch was getting stronger, sharper. He looked down at the tray- it already had most of Obi-Wan’s cold favorites, but he really wanted to get him his favorite soup if the line would just move a little faster. He jolted when, for the first time that day, Obi-Wan’s shielding thinned the slightest amount. Not enough to get anything clear, but the fact that there was movement at all...

He left the line; they could always come back together if Obi-Wan wanted. Hells, maybe they’d do a late night visit to Dex’s for some real comfort food. Anakin still couldn’t get a sense of what Obi-Wan was up to through their muffled bond. He felt a buzz in his ears, not unlike the moment before an enemy blow.

He picked up speed, tea sloshing in its thermoflask. An elder looked at him annoyed as darted around him.

He started speed walking in earnest as the feeling got more intense. A sandwich fell to the wayside.

Speed walking quickly switched to jogging, then running; there was a shout of complaint as he ditched the whole tray carelessly behind.

He took the last few hallways at a full-out force-assisted sprint, the Force itself screaming at him to move. A small part of his mind thought we’re safe inside the temple Obi-Wan promised not to do anything stupid i’m going to get such shit for freaking out over nothing. 

He sensed nothing from Obi-Wan over the bond; not a hint of fear or anger or surprise. He blurred around the last corner, feeling like he might throw up with his increasing, unexplained panic.

Not caringabout anything butgettingto Obi-Wan beforeitstoolate he smashed down the door at the same moment Obi-Wan, sitting peacefully by the window, turned on the lightsaber pointing directly at his heart.

Time seemed to slow. Splinters of the door frame hung in the air as Anakin desperately pulled the lightsaber away from Obi-Wan in the half-second between activation and ignition.

He wasn’t quite fast enough.

Blue plasma pierced Obi-Wan’s chest as time caught up. Pieces of the wall shattered like shrapnel as he turned, shocked to see Anakin. The saber flew away in a straight arrow. 

Anakin threw himself to Obi Wan’s side, wildly trying to draw heat away from the searing hole before it could vaporize the surrounding flesh. He couldn’t tell what the saber had pierced, or how far it had gone in considering its last second movement.

One hand trained on a hundred battle fields robotically reached for his comm-unit to call for emergency medical assistance. His mind however, had largely been left behind a few minutes ago, when he was trying to pick what Obi-Wan would want to eat for dinner.

What came out his mouth was more incoherent shrieking than anything else, but he had at least called the correct line for temple aid.

He threw down the comm, focus intent on controlling the smoldering burn. The air around them seemed to boil and Obi-Wan started struggling to get away. Anakin bodily held him down, finally finding words,

“What the FUCK, OBI-WAN! YOU LITERALLY JUST PROMISED NOT TO DO ANYTHING STUPID! YOU PROMISED!”

“that’s why- hkk I  have  to” Obi-Wan rasped.

“Karking Fuck.YOU- STOP MOVING!”

Anakin felt a twinge of danger come from the side but was too focused to do anything but shift his body as shield. A sharp pain pierced his gut but he ignored it. 

The air crackled with heat and power as the wound beneath him cooled. A faint trickle of dark blood oozed out, probably burns breaking from recent movement, considering the instant cauterization. He couldn’t see any light coming through, which meant he had moved the saber at least a quarter klick before it activated, Anakin thought semi hysterically.

Finally, someone showed up to investigate the disturbance. In truth, probably less than a minute had passed since Anakin entered the room, but he really didn’t care.

“HELP ME!” Anakin shouted.

“What happened?” Mace Windu asked grimly, falling to the ground next to them. Not waiting for an answer, he set his lit saber aside and placed his hand to Obi-Wan’s forehead, stilling the violent thrashing.

Anakin opened his mouth but he just didn’t have the words. He didn’t know. 

“General Skywalker, report.” Mace Windu commanded sharply. 

“I left him alone to get dinner for us. I ran back and when I broke open the door he was holding the lightsaber to his chest. I tried...to pull it away. It pierced him, and I’ve been trying to manage the initial burn risk. I called for medi but I don’t know their eta.”

“They’re behind me. How did you get stabbed?” the Master demanded.

“How did I what?” Anakin looked down to see a vibroblade sticking out from his left side. Right, the pain from before. Obi-Wan suddenly mustered up the energy to wake up despite his state and Windu’s compulsion. He looked around wildly before yanking the knife from Anakin’s side.

Anakin gasped, but managed to still his brother’s hand using the force before he could finish bringing it up to his neck, which Anakin just noticed was bloody.

“STOP TRYING TO DIE!” Anakin screeched.

“...I’m...not....I’m....trying.....to...” 

But before Obi-Wan could finish the sentence, the healers finally arrived, pushing Windu aside to grab hold of Anakin and Obi-Wan. He could feel a buzz of energy go through him, stopping at the growing damp patch at his side. He tried to push the man away but the heat in the room was starting to make him dizzy

“I’m fine! Focus on Obi-Wan.”

Mace placed a hand on his shoulder, and in the gentlest voice he had ever heard from the man, said, “You’ve been stabbed Anakin. Let the healers help both of you- you’ve done well looking out for him.”

Obi-Wan, still occasional thrashing was being loaded onto a hoverstrech for transport. A second stretcher waited next to it. 

“Master Windu! He’s fighting us,” Master Che called sharply. “Can you tell us what happened?”

“Master Kenobi tried to kill himself,” Windu replied flatly. “His wounds are self inflicted and he’s violently fighting assistance” 

There was a beat as that information was processed. Knight Bant, who must have arrived at some point, said in slightly less flat voice, “He displayed erratic behavior earlier today, and I ruled out drug interactions.”

“Thank you, Knight Bant.” Master Che plunged a syringe of some kind into Obi-Wans thigh. He finally stopped attempting to fight, falling down onto the board. “Red team, with me. Orange, you have Skywalker,” She instructed sharply. 

Anakin numbly watched most of the healers leave with Obi-Wan through a hole in the wall. He slowly started to stand and somehow ended up guided into a seat on the hoverboard. Looking down, he was surprised to see his tunic cut away in favor of a large bacta patch. 

“Hey,” he protested. “Who stabbed me?”

“We can discuss that after you have surgery,” A Human healer replied. Master Covamos, he thought.

“This is my fault” Anakin said, suddenly urgent. “I shouldn’t have left him. He told me goodbye, he was saying goodbye all day, I should have...”

“You saved his life,” Windu interrupted. “You got to him just in time, don’t waste your energy on should-haves. Now sleep.”

Anakin wanted to argue more, but instead found himself laying down, vision blurring. His face felt damp, had he been stabbed more than once? Windu said a few more words he couldn’t quite make out. There was a brief stinging sensation, then everything faded away. 

----

Part VIII

[wizkiddx]

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x  I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition. 

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.  

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down. 

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold. 

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite. 

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms. 

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness. 

“You sure? You dont really sound it?” 

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?” 

“Not… not right now. Please?” 

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand. 

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle. 

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

 You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom. 

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with. 

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together. 

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side. 

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line. 

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie” 

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’. 

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible. 

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom. 

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person. 

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Comfy’s Book Club (fic rec)

alright kids, lets just start with me saying this is in no way a complete list of fics I love because there’s truly too many for me to put them all here. that said, these are the fics ive been loving recently or just recently found.

this body swap fic bby@theamazingbard is absolute FIRE. so is the rest of their work, but I wanted to highlight this fic specifically because it’s not what I expected at all from a body swap and I love it so so so very much. 

the road to Kaer Morhen by @darkverrmin gives me so much serotonin. the ending line from Jask makes me so happy i just fucking love it okay. we got pining geralt here too which I’m always a fan of.

sleepy cuddling geraskier goodness  that will absolutely rot your teeth it’s so sweet by @jaskierswolf i think i read it like six times. I love it. Edit: I'm a dumbass and tagged the wrong blog as the author I'm so sorry 😬 tis my first rec list, can you tell?

a broken hand bby@silvipeppers i still cant fucking believe this is the first fic they’ve written and i’m shook to the core. i love it so much, we got angry bard hours up in here and frankly, i’m obsessed.

right in front of them bby@lesdemonium had me so giggly and soft oh my god. this fic will wrap you in a sweet hug, kiss your hair, and tell you everything is going to be alright 

so much mutual pining in this one bby@elliestormfound i love this fic so so so so much and literally everything else Ellie writes. im not fucking kidding. 

we got a mafia!geralt/teacher!jaskier fic by @persony-pepper in the mix tonight and let me tell you, tis fire. 

@witcher-and-his-bard is doing some writing challenges/fic-a-day things that are magnificent. i love everything ive read from this lovely author and i anxiously await more

some good ole tired dad content ffrom@jaskierswolf that will just make you wanna barf rainbows its so cute. just. i LOVE.

build me up, buttercup by @witchertrashbag fuckin killed me okay? don’t get it twisted from the title this is a smutfic and its so good. like the smut is magnifique, but the storyline is also fabulous and now i wanna have geralt cook for me and take me for a ride on his bitchin motorcycle. 

this right here is the cutest coffee shop au i think ive ever read and i adore it. read it all at like 2am as one should and i just-feels. idk if the author has a tumblr but plz go leave kudos/comments its so good Edit: @lovelyrita1967 is the author's tumblr

this one right here tho oh my god. i really dont think i can express how much i dig this fic. if you cant tell im not always too big on long form stuff because i get sucked in and cant stop which is exactly what happened with this one. i was reading it through my chem zoom class (which I don’t recommend, this is an only fans au and its horny and smutty) but goddamn i love it so much. once again, no idea if the author has a tumblr but if they do i wanna follow them bc damn. 

lol to the nonie who requested this: sorry this took so long im just v dumb and disorganized! i have started tagging shit with ‘fic rec’ too and imma try to have a tag system so i can search shit up better next time. also if yall have any recs to add PLZ add them i wanna read moreeeeeee

[is-that-another-soulmate-au]

Alright let's try this Soulmate body switch AU I'm also attempting this whole "make a tag" thing... bare with me, ive only actually used this app for like 4 days now im gonna go with "RayMakesSoulmates" for now... uhm, idk what else to go with uhhhhh yeah, names Ray btw...

Okay here we go. The idea of switching bodies is something a bit strange to me so let me make this work for me.

Basically it happens once a year after you either turn 17 or meet your soulmate. If its the latter then there has to be alot of turmoil and confusion on one side to trigger the first switch because it does not happen at the first encounter. However after the first encounter you'll sometimes have little blurry dreams that are in fact core memories of your soulmate. But theyre always too blurry to point out who's involved and sounds are too muffled to pin point any specific noises words or what have you.

Now, the dreams don't happen every night but they happen often enough that you are made aware that you have met your soulmate at some point recently.

So after Zuko visits the south and they begin their cat and mouse game around the world Zuko often has blurry dreams of white with black falling what he thinks is people screaming and what he knows is muffled crying. While Sokka has random dreams of what he thinks is someone moving away into the darkness and someone screaming out to them but he can't figure out what they're saying. Another dream he has is a blurry glow of bright blue and crying. There's also one that shows up more often than the other two, its when he sees what he believes is someone moving towards him saying something, but its muffled, then a bright light and muffled screaming and crying.

However after Ba Sing Se Sokka has a dream that's clear and vivid, not muffled and not blurry. After he takes a moment from shooting up to a sitting position he realizes that this is not a dream, he's switched bodies. Standing up and moving the blankets off of him he looks around and sees the there are fire nation items everywhere, it looks like he's in a royal bedroom. He elects to keep calm as he moves towards where he thinks is a bathroom, he is correct and when he looks into the mirror he freezes. His heart drops into his stomach. Sokka can hardly believe what he's looking at. Staring back at him is not his face, but Zuko's. He reaches up to touch the scar on Zuko's face. While yes he has control over his body and he doesn't exactly know how to act 'firenation' let alone 'fire nation royalty' he stands straight. "This won't last longer than 3 hours." He reminds himself

"What won't last longer than three hours?" Azula's voice breaks through

Instantly on edge and irritated Sokka- ahem Zuko turns to Azula "what do you want Azula?" He says in a voice thats much less irritated, theyre siblings right? So they have to be chummy right

"Oo! You sound so much less angry!" She muses "disgusting, anyways, Mai wanted me to let you know she's leaving today"

Why would he care about that? Oh they must be friends? Maybe they're dating? Okay, don't screw this up "uh, okay"

"Aw don't be so sad Zuzu~ you two would have never worked out anyways, her and Ty Lee switched bodies just three days ago. It was honestly was kind of amusing watching her string you along" This is not how siblings normally talk to eachother. He just glared at Azula "alright alright sheesh, ill leave you alone" he found something to write on and quickly jotted down the conversation because if he was given that information Zuko would need it.

Meanwhile Zuko shot awake and found himself lying next to appa Katara and Aang, so he is alive huh? Confused he figured he must be dreaming until he realized his vision was clear and nothing was muffled. He was below deck on a fire nation ship. He paused a moment before he stood and noticed Sokka's boomerang beside him. He lifed it and saw Sokka in the reflection. His reaction seemed to mirror(haha get it) Sokka's when he saw Zuko in the mirror. But he dropped the boomerang and it made a loud bang which woke the other two up "Sokka what are you doing, the sun is barely up"

He paused and cleared his throat. Okay, sure he's been chasing them he needs to not blow this "uh, sorry, nightmare"

Katara shifted and turned to him, a genuine look of worry in her eyes "do you want to talk about it?" She asked in a tone that reminded him of his mother. Genuine love.

He forced himself not to tear up at the memory and just shook his head "no, I honestly can't remember it. Just scared me is all" the hesitation in Katara's expression before she responded was strange to him

"Alright, if you say so, do you mind going and asking dad to change the course? We need to stop and get supplies"

His hesitation and expression probably made her realize what happened "okay, youre not Sokka right now are you?" He froze and nodded slowly "alright, you dont have to tell me who you are, but I'll help you through the motions, Aang and I switched back in Ba Sing Se, that was the day when you questioned why I said I'd fly around, er- or that was when Sokka questioned me" okay she was a little more accepting of this than he thought.

"Uhm, okay, yeah, right, uhm, I don't want to blow this so can you just uh show me around? I'm sure Sokka knows all the people he's- oh agni he's gonna meet my dad" zuko internally cringed.

In that moment it seemed to click with Katara "alright, so you're telling me your Zuko"

Zuko flinched and backed up against the wall "look I dont know what you want me to do about this, but I promise you that I'm not going to ruin anything, I know I messed up, hell Sokka's probably noticing that my family doesn't work like yours does. I've been so confused my whole life okay, I'm sorry I betrayed you in Ba Sing Se, my sister has a way of manipulating me. I just hope he doesn't get hurt, he probably doesn't know he needs to keep his mouth shut in my family." Zuko was panicking when Katara reached out

"Zuko, zuko what do you mean?" Her voice shaky

"Look I cant tell you everything, I cant tell you my life story not right now, I need to get through with this. If we meet again, which I hope we do, ill tell you then. But right now, please just show me what Sokka goes through day to day. I know he's not gonna like what happens on the other end, I just hope it doesn't go too bad."

Katara nodded "alright well. Let me walk you around and let you learn the peoples names, ill just say hi to them and say their names." She paused "but first, tell me about your mother, i dont know if I believe it anymore"

He sighed before telling her the entire story.

Meanwhile at the palace Sokka was sitting in a war meeting knowing to keep his mouth shut unless spoken to. He didnt want to set people off or let them know he wasn't actually Zuko. The topic of the earth kingdome came up and Ozai turned to him "Zuko, you've spent time among the Earth kingdom citizens. What information do you have?"

"Uh, the Earth kingdoms citizens are strong willed and hopeful, as long as they have hope they will not yeild"

"Hmmm, I see, we need to crush their hope"

"Well, thats not what I-"

"I think we should take their precious hope and burn it to the ground!" Azula cuts in

"Yes, yes good idea Azula" Oh no

About an hour after the meeting the switch flipped, Sokka made notes about everything that he found important in time before the switch was over.

After they switched back Sokka found his sister and grabbed her shoulders "Katara, I have to tell you something, I just got back from a body swit-"

"And your soulmate is Zuko? I know, he cried when I was nice to him, what happened on your end?"

"Well, his whole family is mean to him"

"Figured"

"I was in a war meeting and found out their plan for the comet"

After relaying the information he found they discussed it with Aang.

Let's skip ahead to after the failed invasion and to the air temple when Zuko shows up.

"Hello, Zuko here"

No fighting it in this one

"Get your jerk bender butt over here" Katara and Sokka said practically in unison.

>im gonna wrap it up here. And yes Katara would notice its not Sokka and would totally pick up on Zuko, she's observant

>and no Azula wouldn't notice at all because she's used to Zuko being stand offish with her. Plus Sokka is so much better at impersonations than Zuko

@chaoticidiott @roman-does-nothing @bisexuallsokka @transzukostanblog

I dont know if I did this AU justice, I tried.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Just Swimmingly ch.9 (BAON)

Summary:  The final chapter! Let's hope it lives up to the story name, shall we?

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationships, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Edge knew that he wouldn’t be able to carry Stretch for long. They were barely down the hallway to the stairs when warning twinges started up in his leg, and he could only ignore it for so long before he setback his own recovery. He resented that lingering weakness, hated that someone had stolen, albeit temporarily, his ability to physically take his willing husband to wherever he wished to put him. Hated that Stretch no longer flung himself at Edge from their front porch, trusting that he would be caught.

A return to that would come, he reminded himself. For now, he simply had to get Stretch to the car. He wasn’t about to let him walk downstairs with the delicate bones of his feet exposed to the floor of that filthy, junk-strewn warehouse anymore than they already had and perhaps Stretch realized that as well. His protests were brief and faded quickly.

“babe, no, your leg!” Stretch made a weak attempt at squirming loose, “i can walk!”

“You are in your bare feet,” Edge said shortly, “there is angel knows what foulness on this floor, and I am not letting you go.”

“guess i can’t argue that," Stretch sighed. "okay, captain. make it quick.”

“You’ve never said that before,” Edge murmured and Stretch let out a startled laugh that was always lovely to hear, but especially tonight. He really was all right if he could laugh like that, deep and sweet and loud.

So, Edge carried on down the stairs, past the melting remains of some kind of chemical foam, and Stretch didn’t struggle, a wise choice considering it would probably have sent them both tumbling down. He simply sighed and wrapped his slim arms around Edge’s neck, his skull resting lightly against his shoulder.

He was exhausted, Edge realized belatedly, already mentally berating himself. Of course he was, it was past the point of being late and going more into early, and the only sleep Stretch had had tonight was deliberately induced unconsciousness.

Better not to think about that. Seeing Stretch awake and hearing his laughter already relieved some of the raw, achy heat in his soul, there was no point in agitating it again. Surreptitiously, Edge ducked his head enough to breathed in the sweet scent of his husband’s magic, letting it further ease the dimming clamor of his LV demanding retribution. Much as he hated admitting when his brother was right, it would be best to let the Embassy security teams handle the kidnappers. Not that Edge wouldn’t be intently watching the results, but Edge knew himself well enough that he couldn’t promise not to react with violence if he saw any of them in person.

They’d stolen from him. Not a possession, no, love was not something to be owned, but it could be given, along with his soul, and Edge had given his to the very person they’d tried to use as a mere tool to be bartered with and after, they would have surely discarded him as nothing more than a useless object, a means to an end.

There was only one punishment suitable for that and Edge did not trust himself not to mete it out.

Outside, the night air was cool, refreshing after the dusty warehouse, and there was a new vehicle amidst the Embassy cars. An ambulance, the lights swirling silently atop, and the back doors were open with a stretcher already on the pavement. When the attendants saw them, they started forward, and in his arms, Stretch tensed, shifting as if to crawl up and over him in a wild attempt at escape.

“no,” Stretch said shortly. “no, no, no, don’t let the damsel in distress pose fool you, i am fine. all i need is a stiff drink and some zzz’s, this is me not consenting to any medical treatment.”

“Love—” Edge began. Stretch swung around to look at him, the pale glare of his eye lights accusing, and he backtracked, choosing his words carefully, “You were drugged. Perhaps it would be best if you were checked out.”

That suggestion was met with fierce scorn as Stretch scoffed, "yeah, i was drugged and now i am wide awake. i can tell you my name, my address, and my shoe size, and whoever tries to get me into the back of that wah-wah-mobile is gonna know it, too, when i shove my foot up their ass.”

“kinky.” Edge whirled to see his brother’s smirking face as he strolled towards them. “wellie, well, well, went fishin’ and got a hellava catch, eh, boss?”

In his arms, Stretch stiffened so briefly, he might have imagined it. He blinked rapidly, once, twice, as if to clear his vision, then relaxed again, settling on a wheedle in Red’s direction, “fishing jokes are so cliché, cooking is better. i’m the best cupcake in the bakery, so let him wrap me up and take me home. come on, tell them i’m fine.”

Red scratched the back of his skull lazily, “dunno, honeybun, might need a tune-up and an oil change—”

“quit switching the metaphors!” Stretch let go of Edge long enough to flip a middle finger at him.

Red snorted, amused, “yeah, yeah, he can take you home. if,” Red stressed, “you take a mo’ to strip off the new gear those assholes gave you.”

“aw, gee, red,” Stretch batted a pair of imaginary eyelashes, “you’ve never asked me to strip before. i’m not even wearing a g-string, where will you stuff the dollars?”

“cute,” Red’s grin widened in a way that made Edge want to carry his husband far away. The way he bared his teeth venturing into the realm of amused cruelty, and the flick of his tongue absurdly lascivious, “it’s evidence and we need it. if you’d rather change up at the bone factory, bet the docs could take a chance to check you out—”

“no!” Stretch yelped, “no, no, fine. you have something for me to change into?”

“yep.” And Red pointed to the back of the ambulance. “in there.”

Stretch rolled his eye lights. “wow,” he said dryly, “that trap isn’t even subtle. you want i should strap myself into the stretcher, too? check my vitals, start an iv?”

“it’s the only place to change, so either trust that we’ll do a catch and release, or…” Red trailed off meaningfully.

Stretch heaved a sigh and started squirming in Edge’s arms, wincing at the gravel as he was carefully set on the pavement. “back to fishing, huh? fine, fine. but if it drives off in the hospital way when i climb in the back, I’m shortcutting at the first stoplight and then we can play tag across town.”

“I won’t let them take you anywhere you don’t want to go, love.” Edge signed a little ‘x’ over his chest. Stretch’s scrutinizing look shifted to a soft smile and even though he would have preferred a doctor checking him over, Edge wouldn’t do anything to break the trust shining in his eye lights, not for anything in the world.

“okay, babe,” Stretch said, “give me five.”

He climbed into the ambulance, pulling the rear doors shut behind him. After a few minutes of the vehicle shaking and muffled swearing coming through the door, Stretch remerged. The clothes weren’t his own, but they fit, soft pants and a neon-bright sweatshirt that Stretch could have chosen himself, a far contrast to the cheap, bland clothes their kidnappers forced on them. Edge suspected his brother’s hand in it and wondered with some resignation if Red sent someone to purchase them tonight or if he simply kept spare clothes for them all in the dingy hole in the Embassy basement that passed as his office, for just such an occasion.

Probably the latter, Red was never one who minded delegating, but some things required a personal touch.

With visible distaste, Stretch handed over a large brown paper sack to Red. “take ‘em,” he said flatly. “burn them, whatever. i never want to see them again.”

“fair enough,” Red handed the bag off to one of the Embassy security who was standing close by with a muttered order. “all right, newly engaged goes next.”

Their Human friends were standing close by, both silently watching the entertainment, which was fair after the recent show upstairs. With the spotlight turned his way, Jeff hastily nodded and Antwan carefully set him on his feet, his hands lingering and reluctant to let him go.

“You two can head on home,” Antwan said, “We’re taking one of the Embassy cars.”

“yeah, okay, sounds good.” But Stretch didn’t return to Edge. He went to Jeff, leaning down to pull him into a tight hug that was fiercely returned. “hey, we made it, and you even got a special prize to top it off. congrats, bro,” Stretch told him.

It was charming the way Jeff’s cheeks went visibly pink even in the harsh overhead lights of the parking lot, but if this horrible night could end for him on a smile, Edge thought it fitting. No one said a word until the friends ended their embrace, Jeff heading into the ambulance to change and Stretch returning to Edge’s side, if not his arms.

“hey, honey bun.” Stretch paused, giving Red a questioning look, “i’ll have your cell phone back to you tomorrow.”

His face twitched but Stretch only nodded. He turned in a circle, his gaze searching, until it landed on Edge’s car parked on the far side of the lot. He started towards it and as slippers were included with his new wardrobe, Edge reluctantly allowed Stretch to walk on his own towards it.

Before he’d taken two steps, a small voice came from behind them. “Can I ride back with you two?”

Alone on the crumbling pavement, Blue stood there, his hands twisting together and his starry eye lights hesitant and hopeful. For the second time that night Edge cringed inwardly at not thinking of him.

“sure, bro,” Stretch said immediately. His eye lights flicked briefly to Edge to confirm, surprising him.

Of course he could come with them, why wouldn’t he…they needed to invite Blue over more often, Edge decided abruptly. They saw him often on movie nights and group events, and he knew that the Swap brothers had lunch together once a week, but he should spend more time with his brother, and with Edge.

Once, they’d been decently good friends, before his relationship with Stretch subtly cooled things between them. They could be friends again, better friends, if only one of them took the first step. Interesting how traumatic events could be a hell of an incentive.

“Of course,” Edge told him, and tried not to notice the sudden gratitude that filled Stretch’s face. He dug into his pocket for his keys and tossed them to Blue, who caught them with a jangle. “In fact, I’d prefer if you’d drive.”

Blue brightened visibly at the show of trust, darting over to the car. He held open the door as Stretch crawled into the back and didn’t so much as raise an eyebrow when Edge followed him.

“home, jeeves,” Stretch said. The last word broke on a deep yawn and he shifted to sprawl across the backseat, his skull in Edge’s lap.

“Seatbelt,” Edge chided.

“you put it on me,” Stretch grumbled. He didn’t move as Edge did, only settled in more comfortably once the belt was across him. He was asleep before they’d even left the parking lot, without so much as an ounce of deception in his long, slow breaths.

Cautiously, Edge settled his bare hands on him, choosing where to settle them with some care, one hand on his clothed side and the other on his skull with more palm than fingers. He wished for a pair of his gloves to keep the sharpened tips safely concealed. Earlier, he’d wanted his hands exposed and ready to be used, and now in the aftermath, he wanted them tucked away again, the same as he’d learned to conceal his other, more Underfell-ian tendencies. Only bringing them out when they were useful, like a set of heirloom dishes, then hiding them at the back of the hutch again to gather dust.

(don’t think of it that way, do not)

He resisted the urge to clench his hands, closed his sockets and tried to concentrate on the feel of warm bone under his bare hand. Stretch often carried spare gloves for him in his bag, never questioning Edge’s preference, never mocked or teased; he didn’t just accept that quirk, he embraced it and tried to help. If he were awake, he would have been pleased at the bare-handed touch, he would understand the significance of it and Edge focused on that.

It helped soothe some of his agitation and when Edge opened his sockets again, he was surprised to see the Embassy gates already looming ahead. “Drop us off, you can take my car home tonight.”

Blue nodded silently, his gaze focused intently on the road. There wasn’t even a teasing, if pointed, joke about Edge letting his car out of his sight. The car didn’t matter, all that was important was in his arms right now.

He pulled into their driveway and Blue held the door again as Edge carefully lifted Stretch into his arms. He paused long enough for Blue to press a gentle kiss to his brother’s skull, murmuring something Edge did not hear, then carried him inside as the car pulled out of the drive behind him. He hoped Papyrus was home, surely he was, and that he would know that Blue could use some friendly companionship after this night.

He would know, Edge decided firmly. This was Papyrus he was thinking of and it was likely he already had a pot of strong tea and some very interesting cookies ready to share, along with a blanket and some Mettaton reruns. Blue would be fine for tonight and tomorrow he could come over again, after they’d all had some necessary sleep.

He carried Stretch inside and settled him on the sofa. Upstairs would have been better, but he needed a moment for his leg to recover before taking him any further. Not that Stretch noticed, he only slept on, sleepily burrowing into the blanket Edge draped carefully over him.

Indecision seized Edge then. There were things that needed to be done, but leaving Stretch here alone made uneasiness stir in his soul. In the end, he checked the door and window locks to make sure they were secured and that their alarm system was on before he reluctantly went upstairs to run a bath and lay out pajamas. It would be testing Stretch’s ability to sleep through anything, but those Humans had touched him, laid their filthy hands on him. A quick wash would go a long way for both of them to get some decent rest.

He waited for the tub to fill with foamy bubbles, the unsubtle floral scent of lavender filling the room, before heading back downstairs. He halted on the landing, his soul seizing in his chest, to see that the sofa was empty, the blanket thrown carelessly back.

Edge closed his sockets and took a long, deep breath, settling his rattled nerves. Yes, Stretch was missing again, but this time, he suspected he knew exactly where he’d gone.

The sliding glass door was now unlocked, and Edge opened it to step out into the backyard. Dewy grass clung to his shoes as he walked and the horizon was overflowing with purples and pinks and deep orange, heralding the arrival of the sun.

The fence was standing open, confirming his suspicions, and Edge opened the coop door to find Stretch sitting on the floor, heedless of its less than sterile state. Nugget was in his lap, magnanimous surrendering her a scritches to her small, adopted duckling that was curled up on Stretch’s knee, mumbling out sleepy little quacks as it was gently stroked.

Stretch didn’t look up. “hey, babe,” he mumbled.

Edge sank down to sit next to them, pressing their sides together from shoulder to hip. “You could have warned me,” Edge said.

It was lightly said, but Stretch flinched, shifting to rest his head on Edge’s shoulder. “sorry, wasn’t thinking.”

“I’d say you’re still not,” Edge agreed. “are you even awake?”

“prolly not.”

They sat together in the dimly lit coop, the silence broken only by the faint sleeping rumbles from the chickens. Neither of them were prepared for Cheese to stir, going from sleeping to wide awake in an instant the moment they noticed the open door. With a riot of happy peeps, they hopped from Stretch’s knee, dodging Edge’s grab as they ran outside to plunge into the new pond, swimming circles in the clear water.

They followed them out, “No, not right now,” Edge began, preparing to wade in if necessary to secure their tiniest poultry companion.

“eh, let ‘em play," Stretch yawned. He sank down on the walkway they’d finished only the day before. “let them have some fun. may as well, i'm really tired, but i dunno if i can sleep yet."

Edge nodded and settled next to him again. The brickwork was hard beneath his tailbone and he made a mental note to have a bench of some sort installed. He should have thought of it before, Stretch enjoyed watching his pets, and both the patio and the porch swing were too far away for proper observation. Rather than allow Stretch to sit on the stones, he pulled his love into his lap, holding him close without impeding his view. "We can wait until you're ready."

"gonna have nightmares,” Stretch said abruptly. His voice was smaller and knowingly weary. "i was scared, you know, but andy was there, and he was scareder. his face was," Stretch gestured at his own face and shook his head. "i couldn't let him get hurt. i couldn’t."

It ached to hear that soft confession, though he’d known Stretch must have been frightened. He pushed the image of Stretch waking up terrified and surrounded by enemies out of his mind, saying firmly, "You didn't, you protected him."

"he wouldn't need protecting if he'd stayed in his seat on that bus all those months back,” Stretch said sourly and that was a notion that couldn’t wait for his therapist to address.

"Don't,” Edge told him softly, “Don't take on blame that isn't yours, you don’t deserve to carry their guilt."

"heh, yeah. you're one to talk."

“I know. So you can believe I know what I’m talking about.”

“don’t worry, babe, i know something about carrying guilt that ain’t yours, too.” Before Edge could question that, Stretch sighed heavily, confessing, "i knew one of the guys."

That was a chilling admission. "You did."

"yeah, he used to work at classic books,” Stretch said. He shifted in Edge’s arms, unconsciously pushing in closer. “had an issue with monsters, but i didn't think anything of it. lots of humans do. he never said anything out loud that i ever heard. last i knew, thomas said he quit. thomas was happier for it, he was about to fire the guy, anyway, him quitting made his life easier."

“Does my brother know this?”

“if he didn’t before, pretty sure he already does now, but i’ll tell him during my little interview tomorrow.” In his arms, Stretch shivered, bones briefly rattling. “when i saw him, saw into his—” Stretch stopped abruptly, “anyway. he’s not a nice guy, babe. not at all.”

“I see,” Edge said, slowly. There were depths in that obvious diverting should be explored, questions to ask, but that could wait for tomorrow. “Let’s go inside and get cleaned up, all right?”

“yeah, okay.” Stretch crawled out of his arms to the side of the pond and rather than fruitlessly chasing Cheese, he held out a hand. It took hardly more than a touch of blue magic to pull the little duckling close, their pitiful quacks as they were once more robbed of their watery freedom filling the air. “yeah, i know,” Stretch soothed, “tomorrow, okay? i’ll let you swim ‘till you’re sick of it, kiddo.”

He returned the duckling to Nugget, who unsympathetically tucked the peeping duckling beneath her, and when Stretch turned back to Edge, his gaze sharpened suddenly as he watched Edge climb to his feet. “where’s your cane?”

“I was getting it as we speak.”

“uh huh, from inside the house, it’s so useful in there. you,” Stretch jabbed a slender finger at him, “you’re going to use it all day tomorrow, right? no bitching, either.”

Edge didn’t bother pointing out that it was highly likely he wouldn’t be doing much walking at all tomorrow, certainly not out of their home. Tomorrow would be full of questioning and paperwork, so many things that would need to be done. But first, they needed to finish off the night before dawn took it.

“Of course,” he agreed. He allowed Stretch to pull an arm over his shoulders, ostensibly to help him inside, but it wasn’t his leg that needed Stretch’s assistance.

His soul pulsed in his chest softly, settling at the feel of Stretch close to him, leading them both into their house, and when they finally slept that night, it was on the sofa rather than their bed, both of them freshly washed and with a cooking show playing softly in the background.

Lying together, Edge was acting the part of smaller spoon to Stretch’s larger one, and if Stretch guessed the position was one that put Edge closer to the door, he didn’t say. His face was buried into the back of Edge’s neck, his breath damp and even. Edge drifted on the borders of sleep, listening more to that quiet breathing than whatever the chef on the screen was saying.

“I can’t lose you.” The words escaped him, said to no one at all, less a statement and more a vow, a promise offered in the early morning light. I can’t, he thought to himself as he drifted, barely hearing the sleepy murmur in return.

“you won’t, babe. ’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Soothed, Edge let sleep claim him, trusting that he was safely caught up in the embrace of both slumber and his love.

-finis

[evandearest]

The Garden of Eden | Part IV: Betrayal

Pairing: James March x reader (you) | ~Part: (4/4)~

Summary (Part Four): Warnings are to be remembered, although most stored away for future use only to be forgotten. Cycles repeat to teach lessons; to warn of future events. Threats may remain even if not for the blind eye to see. However, ignorance might be the biggest threat of all.

Warnings (in this part): murder, blood, death, poison, religious twists, dark themes

Word Count: 5,018 (haha this part ended up with the most words... to end it off I suppose!)

Notes: This is the last part of the Garden of Eden! I just want to say thank you to all who read - especially @etoile-writings , for supporting me. Please go check out her series Adam and Eve, as it is a literary masterpiece and she deserves so much recognition.

I have seriously had so much fun writing this - it really has been my pleasure. I also want to apologize to all those who may have been waiting for awhile for the final part! Disclaimer: I tried my best to edit the grammar and everything in this but this is the best I could do! I hope there’s not many mistakes I may have missed. Please ask any questions and give me all your comments about this finale - I’d love to hear any and all thoughts! I also hope everyone is safe, healthy, and happy :) Feel free to send in other requests, whether it be AHS or Supernatural.

Also a heads up - keep a look out for the final review and analysis if you are interested. It is still in progress but it should be out within a couple of days at best.

A few side notes - the Countess and James are still legally married here, as they are in the show, but in this situation it is only because they haven’t gotten the chance to divorce. This part may seem to have very long sentences, but I just wanted to let you guys know that it is a writing technique that I used to create mood, tone, and theme. That’s all, thanks!

Tag List: @etoile-writings @haileyybird @ietss

Something about the young couple in the bar had your mind reeling. Their hands remained interlocked on the table, both of them staring at one another with all the joy and adoration that only true love can bring. Their relationship was new and exciting. The honeymoon phase was always so perfect. You remembered how that had felt with James; so invigoratingly energizing. It was enough to make you feel as if you ruled the world; love blinding a vision of truth. It was, for many years, what you had considered paradise to be.

Paradise.

You realized now that it never had been perfect with you and James. There were so many things standing in the way, so many hidden threats. When you were younger, it had been your parents and their obsessive need to marry you off like an object to a rich man. Even as he had began his journey to success, James’ social status as new money hadn’t seemed good enough to them. When you had first gotten back with James only just around a month ago, you had thought that you’d conquered everything. You had been blind to the truth which was right in front of you once again. You should have expected some kind of change in James. It was inevitable, after all that time spent apart.

But now, however, right at this present moment... well, now, everything was out in the open. Now, you and James truly understood one another. Now there really was nothing in your way. You could see no obstacles ahead, no threat, so long as James was by your side. All you saw was James, and all that clouded your mind was your admiration and devotion to him. He was your everything; your soulmate, your leader, your God. He had dragged you from the fire and brought your paradise back to you; good, true, and everlasting this time around. Your precious Garden of Eden, controlled by none other but you and your God.

Your God; who had been the utmost of clever in his recent schemes. He’d been outraged when he did it, but it wasn’t to say that he wasn’t brilliant. He was of excellent prosecution; his statement out in the open and clear. A Sunday morning: police finding piles of dead bodies compiled with numerous copies of nothing other than the book of God himself. It was sadistic and morbid, but it was perfect. It was everything that James needed to say. He was on the verge of something momentously renowned.

Once James was finished, no one would ever forget his message: religion was the worst thing to happen to society. It controlled the will of man, when truly nothing in creation could stop anything. Everyone was put equal on the Earth to sin, to live in the most pleasurable way.

It was the entire reason Adam and Eve had been cast down. They were sinners, except the garden was a place controlled by God’s rules. They had wanted to control their own lives, so God banished them to Earth. James, however, had created his own paradise; his own Garden of Eden. He had climbed so far above all other men that he now controlled the garden. He had to prove to others the ridiculousness of holiness--for all were meant to sin. Religion was, essentially, suppression. To some, it may seem horrible, but to you, it was art. A simple expression of belief that most didn’t understand.

Voices floated into your ears, startling you out of your thoughts. Soft echoes through the lobby of your beloved’s name piqued your interest, your feet immediately carrying you to the railing without much thought. You left your drink on the bar’s counter--still full, but long forgotten. Your eyes landed on four men clad in black suits, shiny gold badges on their shoulders reflecting light from the chandeliers above. You scanned the area, noticing a certain maid standing close by, listening in, much like you were.

“We have suspicion based upon evidence that Mr. March was involved in the murder this past Sunday. We have already taken the time to get a warrant for his arrest,” one of the officers explained to the receptionist at the front desk. Time seemed to take a standstill, your heart seeming to stop completely as your brain registered the man’s words. No, this couldn’t be happening.

The cycle was repeating again. They were trying to tear you apart again.

You didn’t understand how this could’ve happened. He said he was careful, and you could never see James making a mistake with something this important. He was detail-oriented, his brain practically ran off of the certainty of perfectionism. He would never let a small mistake ruin everything for him.

The entire empire he’d built, and everything you’d rebuilt, was about to be destroyed all over again.

Your body seemed to catch up with your mind as you sprung into action. You twisted around, your feet pushing you forward only to come to a halt at the close proximity of the once unknown presence behind you. Your eyes widened, a sharp breath escaping your lips at the stop you made compared to your sudden momentum. You stared into the eyes of none other than The Countess, clad in only the most extravagant clothing and makeup.

“That’ll be a hard one to get out of,” she said, although her face was seemingly expressionless. You stared at her, your frenzied brain jumping to the first conclusion you could make.

“Did you...” you trailed off, your breathing suddenly heavy. James couldn’t have made the mistake, so that means that somebody else had to of given the police some kind of tip in order for them to seek James out. The woman standing before you was quite possibly the number one suspect. “Did you do this?” Your voice held tones of disbelief and anger.

Would Elizabeth really go to such extent when she hadn’t even expressed a major disliking? She hadn’t talked to you at all since that first time, in fact the only interactions you’d had with one another were passing glances. She’d seemed to have just steered clear of anything to do with you or James. You had no idea what she had thought, but you had supposed that she didn’t care about you and James, otherwise she would have spoke her concerns. Had you been wrong about her? Could a simple mistake end it all over again? Elizabeth scoffed, her face hardening.

“Oh God no...” she said wryly, a small sarcastic grin forming on her lips as she looked at you quizzically, “what would I get out of it now? As I am still his present wife, I don’t need James dead to use his money. And besides, now that he has you he no longer bothers me.” She was smug as she spoke to you. She grinned, all teeth and mischief, her eyes sparkling. “It’s a winning situation for the both of us if you ask me.” She paused, her grin falling slightly as her gaze wondered off to peer down into the lobby.

“I could bet I know who the rat is, though,” She said, turning back to you. “I’m wagering it’s his loyal minion. That poor woman has been in love with James since the beginning of time.” She paused, her eyes intense as they rested on your face. “And based on your expression you think so too.” She smiled at you and then turned, walking slowly away from you. “Good luck,” she called back to you without turning around, your eyes watching her back as she went.

You stood contemplating her words for a moment. Elizabeth was smart and straightforward, and from what you could tell if she had a problem she would speak her mind. And what she had said made sense. Miss Evers was in love with James, but her love was unrequited, and that’s why she constantly seemed at odds with you. She could never even have a chance to be with him, so long as you were around.

Your feet carried you quickly as you raced to the elevator. The police were still conversing with the receptionist, but you knew it was only a matter of time before they found out where James was. You recalled a conversation you’d had with him in the morning, concluding that he had to be caught up attending to his hobby.

The police would find him in his office, in the middle of his business, and it would all be over. He would be taken from you once again.

You didn’t even knock upon arriving; you opened the door and closed it quickly behind you. You turned to face James, in all his blood-covered, god-like glory. You took in the scene of James’ office quickly, your eyes tracing over every detail. A large bin sat in the center of the room, a rugged corpse contained within it. James had been busying himself with pouring a substance over the body, of which could only be acid, as it had sizzled upon impact with the dead man’s skin. At your arrival, James halted his methods in confusion.

Several items were scattered across the floor, one of which catching your interest. The glass of the vase; a damp spot surrounding the area where the unaltered mess remained. The roses remained too, the petals wilting from lack of nourishment. You paused, your mind trying to puzzle out their unmoved position. Miss Evers had to have been in here since last night, so why wouldn’t she move them? She might have been scheming, but she was extremely adamant on being neat when it came to James’ specific rooms. You couldn’t see her ignoring it, and yet here it was sitting puzzlingly. You were caught off guard for a reason not entirely known to you. Something about their appearance had you alarmed, a string of words suddenly ringing out in your head; perhaps a memory brought to the surface.

“If you betray the rose, the rose no longer profits you.”

The old woman was suddenly prevalent in your mind, her warning dawning upon you, your heartbeat stuttering at the looming echo of her words. James was waiting for you to explain yourself--the police were coming--Miss Evers had betrayed you--everything you and James had worked so hard for was crumbling down around you. Your heartbeat was fast, the pulse beating quickly, perhaps the reason for the pounding in your head.

You looked James in the eyes, studying his features. He was so handsome--even before you knew him, that day in the garden when you had first seen him--you had marveled at his beauty. And that was before he’d become such a man; his features sharp and masculine, beautifully sculpted by the gods. His dark brown eyes and hair, so dull yet so prominent--a symbol of his darkness. You could stare at him for eternity and never bore, your love for him everlasting.

And yet, here you were at the end with no escape, hell a threat once again hanging above your heads, looming just around the corner. Just a few more minutes and everything would be over. Just a few more minutes and you’d be lost again, stranded without your guide; your purpose--your God.

“James,” you gasped, stumbling slightly as you made your way to him. You’d just managed to get to him before you fell over slightly, your arms reaching out to grasp onto his tightly. He caught you, keeping you level as his face filled with concern. The pounding in your head was intense, beginning to drown out your thoughts and quicken your breath.

“Darling, tell me--what is it?” James demanded, his voice panic-stricken. He lifted your chin to look you in the eyes, his widened orbs meeting yours with intensity.

“I-it’s--the- the police,” you barely managed to get the words out, clinging onto James like he was your lifeline. Nothing seemed right; your thoughts suddenly taking too long to form into words, your breathing heavy, vision blurry, and it was becoming much harder to stand. What was happening? You stared into James eyes, shifting all your focus into him. “They’re here to arrest you.” One hand gripped his arm firmly as you brought the other to rest upon his cheekbone, leaning chest to chest as your body began to collapse into him. He held you steady, forever the one and only thing to truly support you. “They’re going to take you from me,” you sobbed, an onslaught of tears overcoming you. “Again,” you cried quietly, gasping for air.

The door opened, your heart skipping a beat at the intrusion, your mind going straight to the thought of the police. Your eyes landed on Miss Evers instead, confusion settling on you once again. She’d gotten what she wanted, hadn’t she? Why was she here now, to prove something? You wished you had the strength to question her, to say anything, but everything felt heavier and heavier as more time passed.

“Tell me,” James barked at her just as she’d closed and locked the door, “what in all creation is happening? Speak right this instant, and quickly.”

“The police are here,” Miss Evers explained, James grip on you tightening as you leaned onto him for support. He glanced down at you, worry glinting in his eyes as you just barely managed to look up at him.

“Darling,” he whispered, “what is happening? Are you ill?” A moment of silence passed as you tried to respond, your mouth opening but no words becoming audible. A moment of silence passed, the only action being James assessing you. Your words couldn’t seem to form, a burning spreading through your entire body. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt. You began to wonder yourself if you were somehow ill.

“It was supposed to be me!”

The maid across the room suddenly shrieked, desperation clouding her judgement as she flung her arms up in the air. “I was the one for you!” She sobbed, stumbling slightly as an expression of hurt formed upon her face. “I always loved you, and these women--they never did! They used you, and I always cared!” James eyes widened, shock coming across his features. He stared at the woman, contemplating her words.

“But you never saw,” the woman said sadly, her head hanging in shame before her face went emotionless. “And so I did the only thing I could.” She looked at him, dead in the eye, a type of malice suddenly overcoming her. “You’d be surprised how easy it was.” Her eyes settled upon your frame, your head moving slowly to get a glance at her. You stared, blinking rapidly as your vision faded in and out. You could barely comprehend what she was saying, but you felt as James’ breath quickened. It was taking all of your willpower to stay awake--you needed to, for James.

“What?” he stated, his voice deeper than you’d ever heard it, a rage within his eyes even you had never seen before as he stared at her. He was tense, as hard as a rock, glaring daggers at the woman who had seemingly betrayed him.

“I--,” Miss Evers hesitated, obviously intimidated by his fury, but decided to continue. “I’ve found that you have a secret stash of cyanide in the bar.” She faltered once again, her eyes shifting away from James and to the floor. “I wanted us to be together, and she-” she pointed at you, “-she was always in it for the money! They all are, all but me!” She burst into tears, falling onto her knees in hysterics. Your eyebrows furrowed as you racked your brain to gather all of the information. She poisoned you at the bar. You remembered brief flashbacks of the one tiny sip you’d taken of your previously forgotten drink.

James seemed to be shaking as he gently moved you to sit in a chair by the wall, turning away from you for only a moment. Your eyelids began to flutter as sleep beckoned you, visions of James’ movement around the room the only thing to hold your focus. A loud pop suddenly reverberated off of the walls as it rang out, causing you to sit up slightly from your slouched posture, your eyelids flying open to search for the source. James stood over the body of his betrayer, smoking gun resting within his palm.

You felt so weak, your thoughts jumbled, unable to focus on only one. Only now you knew it wasn’t just an overreaction. You’d only taken a mere sip of the drink from the bar, but you supposed now that it had been enough for the poison to go into effect. You wondered briefly how she’d gotten the cyanide into the drink in the first place, and exactly how much she had put in for it to have such a potent effect on your body.

Your eyes traveled to her corpse, and to the fresh blood splattered across the wall from the headshot. You blinked, barely registering what had just occurred before you. You were too dazed to process the incident, even if you understood what had occurred subconsciously. Relief was the only thing you felt; relief for one less thing to worry about standing between you and James.

Eyes shifting slightly to the left, you stared at the browning roses, the sweet old lady’s warning once again echoing, a distant memory brought to the surface of your mind. James crouched in front of you, suddenly the only thing in line of sight, his lips moving but you couldn’t hear his voice over your own in your head. The roses were dead. You left them on the floor. You betrayed them for--

You sprung up once again as a loud banging at the door shocked you back into your senses. James glanced briefly at the door before turning back to you quickly. He pulled you out of the chair, holding you up and close to his chest as he stroked your hair tenderly.

“James,” you just barely whispered as he shushed you.

“I know, darling,” He said reassuringly, pulling back to look into your eyes. “It’s all going to be okay, dear. It’ll all be over before you know it.” He smiled charmingly as you nodded weakly, holding tightly onto the cloth of his shirt to maintain stability. And you believed him in that moment, as he always seemed to find a way.

One way, or another.

You rested your head on his chest, closing your eyes as the pounding on the door increased. Or maybe it was the pounding in your head; at this point you couldn’t decipher what was real and what was just a figment of your imagination. Cold metal pressed against the skin of your temple, your brain too bleary to question it. Mere seconds passed as you contemplated moving, but suddenly it was as if everything had settled away. James’ warm body faded from your grasp.

-🤍-

Your eyelids fluttered open, eyeballs moving back and forth as you tried to become familiar with your surroundings. You recognized the familiar room immediately, for it was your bedroom when you had first moved into the Cortez. You felt strange. Zen, almost, but maybe that was just because the pounding was gone. You felt... disconnected. It was the most out of touch with yourself you’d ever felt.

You climbed to your feet from the floor, thoughts running rampant at what was unknown to you. Where was James, how did you get here, how long had you been here, and why did you feel so cold? Flashes of what seemed to be both years ago and only moments ago clouded your mind, filling you with dread. Scenarios of what could be frightened you and sent you into a state of panic, pushing you forward.

Out of the room you went, through the quiet and empty halls, searching, searching, searching--no fixed destination ahead except something, anything, that could lead you to your James.

It seemed that days had passed before you finally found the lobby of the hotel. Navigation through the building was proving to be much more difficult than you remembered. Why was it taking so long?

The lobby was sparsely populated, unlike the usually crowded area that you were used to. You glanced around, noticing only a few people in the bar, the receptionist, and someone asleep on the sofas. Your feet carried you to the hotel entrance, pushing the first door open, the sunlight peeking through the opaque glass surprising you. If it was the daytime, then why was the hotel so empty? On ordinary occasions people came and went like flies; the Cortez was a hotspot in the city of Los Angeles, after all. Your hands reached out to push open the door to the outside, the metal handle of the door cool against your skin, and then suddenly nothing. In front of you was the door no longer; profound confusion coursing through you as you stared at the walls of your bedroom once again. You had been there one second, and in the next it was as if you had been teleported back in time.

And so the cycle repeated for what seemed like years; many times set adrift through the halls, eventually to the lobby where the sunlight no longer shone through the windows and unusually few people inhabited. You were reaching forward for the handle of the first door for what seemed to be the hundredth time, only to freeze at the call of your name from a familiar voice.

“Y/N.”

Your name sounded of honey dripping off his tongue. It was like hearing that voice for the first time again. All your worries deflated and anxieties subsided--for you had found your God once again. You turned to face him, to see his face--the face you had longed to see for what felt like years but may have been minutes. You still didn’t entirely understand the detachment from your body you felt; it was as if you no longer had a life source, no blood running course or lungs cycling air. You felt out of place and trapped at the same time.

Just as your hopes had soared, they plummeted at the sight of the bare lobby. Emptiness sat instead where you had expected James to be, crushing all sense of direction. You wanted to cry, to scream, to tear the hotel to shreds with your bare hands. But just before you gave up all hope completely, your eyes caught on the tiniest of details.

Barely noticeable, unless payed close attention to; unless already a prominent object in one’s mind. Small, dainty, white petals lay scattered in high correlation, leading on to an unknown but obviously specific destination. You treaded lightly as you followed the path closely, afraid any disturbance would somehow make them disappear.

Unease settled through you, possibly just a usual feeling as of late, but considerably appropriate when meeting the isolate hallways once again. You began questioning your sanity; was this just yet another repeat in the cycle? You’d been lost for so long, was this just another loop? What was the energy here, and why did it not feel like you and James’ beloved Cortez, the place you called home? You felt like you were stuck in a punishment of some kind; a purgatory; a hell.

And at last, you arrived; the room in which this cycle had began, or ended. The office of James Patrick March: Room sixty-four. You paused, contemplating, before making a bold decision and gripping the handle, opening the door and entering the room. There you stood in what was once James’ office, now empty of most furniture, only few items remaining. And there it remained: the vase on the table in the center of the room, petals leading straight to their source.

Inside sat the very white roses themselves, southern California glory and all. They looked just like the ones in that very first garden: huge, bright and beaming, petals spread with all the beauty and radiance of nature and purity. And just behind them stood their God; the master of the garden who held the utmost control in his realm. Your God, who’d saved you from hell; who’d broke all cycles.

The feeling you felt at sight of James did not fail to excite you just the same as it had on that first day years ago. Something about his presence next to yours soothed you, for you knew that he was still there, that he hadn’t been taken from you, that no matter what had happened you were still okay so long as he stood next to you.

You rushed forward and into him, basking in his embrace. His arms wrapped around you, but the challenge once again presented itself: an unignorably apparent absence of warmth. It’d been just before you’d first woken up what seemed like years, or maybe just hours ago, that you’d been in his embrace just the same, his warmth seeping into you and igniting your soul as you had faded in and out of consciousness. But now, you couldn’t feel it. You felt his body wrapped around yours, but nothing inflaming, the detachment from your own warmth just the same. It was missing, a shell of a comfort that used to always be present; something you had gotten entirely used to, for to be absent of warmth was to be dead...

You gasped, pulling away from James to look him in the eyes, the reality setting in and the drunkenness fading away. Your mind was becoming clear, all clarity suddenly bestowed upon you.

“James, are we...” you froze in panic, for it felt as if you didn’t have lungs, the normal rise and fall of the simplicity of breathing gone... the feelings of life were all gone...

And it clicked.

“James,” you whispered, your eyes tracing over the details of the room. The blood stains on the floor and walls were the only evidence of foul play left. You felt strange, for people didn’t normally expect to see the place of their death after the fact. Realizations settled over you as you stared at the room, just as you had initially when entering to warn James of the police, the truth of the events that had happened finally dawning upon you. In your poison-induced state of mind, it’d been hard to realize. You had been dying, the poison slowly but surely shutting your body down. You’d barely processed it when James had held the gun to your head and pulled the trigger, ending your pain.

“Yes, darling?” James replied to you, bringing you back to your conversation. You stared at him longingly. Although you didn’t entirely understand why you were still here, or the concept of the afterlife, you were glad to have James next to you. A moment of silence passed as you tried to pinpoint what you wanted to ask him exactly.

“I have so many questions,” you said, deciding to just speak your mind. You furrowed your eyebrows, blinking rapidly as you tried to sort out your thoughts. “I-I’m so lost, James.”

“Of course you are, dearest,” James said reassuringly, his hand brushing the stray hairs away from your face. He stared at you sadly. “I’m terribly sorry for all that happened, you must feel perplexed beyond understanding my dear.” He paused, his eyes traveling over your features as you stared up at him, listening intently. “This was simply my only choice, darling. You were succumbing to the poison’s grip long before I finished your pain. Miss Evers...” He trailed off, his jaw clenching tightly. “Nevermind that. I came to a conclusion upon the authorities’ arrival, and that was that if I was damned to be put away I might as well flee with you, my queen... it was the only right option.” He smiled down at you softly.

You smiled right back at him, your love for him the only warmth left inside of you now that you no longer had your body to call home. You basked in the feeling of being close to him as he pulled you to his chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss against your scalp. Even if you didn’t feel warmth, simply the love you had for him was enough. He tenderly stroked your back, calming your nerves. It amazed you how he could ease your mind so easily, if only just a little. However, you couldn’t shake your thoughts away. Sure, you could just let it all go, but the truth of the matter was simple.

Your entire life had been a cycle. A cycle of undeniable foolishness; you’d been ignorant of the truth for all of your living years. Oh, how it angered you. You hated something truly for what seemed like the first time in your life. You hated yourself; you’d let yourself believe false truths just to live in an illusion that you thought was happiness. You were naïve. And ultimately, that was what had ended you.

You’d ignored all warnings and left the roses to wilt, betraying the one thing that had always been on your side. You’d ignored all threats and committed yourself to making paradise in the land of the evil; it was simply impossible. The Garden of Eden wasn’t a place for the living. It was a place of freedom, and so long as you’re living, you can never truly be free. For in life, one threat always remains: death. You could never truly be protected. You could never truly have paradise.

But with James, in the Cortez, in the paradise he’d created for you... even death didn’t stand a chance. It was a gateway to greatness; a place where nothing truly stood in your way, where no threats were great enough. You couldn’t be harmed, or imprisoned, or separated here; you were finally utterly invincible; real Gods. Hell and Earth were no longer a threat. It was your true paradise that James had promised you.

Your Garden of Eden.

---------

Series Masterlist: The Garden of Eden Series

Main Masterlist

[iwadori]

Hiiii can i request prompt 53 with tsukki? My annoying cousin u may know @chibiiichan(i cant tag her its a surprise) recommend ur account and well she never been right more than now I LIKE UR ACC TOO URM JUST TAG HER IN THE POST (bcs its actually her birthday next week monday so....the least i could do this bcs she likes tsukki and shes recently talk abt the iwazumi story of yours....lmao shes cringe but in the same time got mad n i was besides her hearing her whining like bruh 'its 1 am'...i know i should buy something for her but she got spoiled enough 💅...that mf-) thank you ✨

‘ALWAYS AND FOREVER’

TSUKISHIMA X READER

2K WORDS

GENRE: ANGST,FLUFF

TW: SLIGHT AMBIGIOUS MENTION OF SUICIDE/ASSISTED DEATH, AND DEATH, CURSING (IN MY A/N)

THIS IS FOR @chibiiichann Happy birthday, I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS (BECAUSE I HATE IT :D ) SOOOOO YEAH I HOPE YOU ENJOY YOUR BIRTHDAY.

NOT PROOFREAD AT ALL. EXPECT SLIGHT MISTAKES

You were dying. You knew it. Your husband, Kei, knew it. Even friends you haven’t spoken too since high school knew it.

So why did you all pretend that everything was okay?

5 year old Y/N:

You were running around your neighbourhood park chasing after butterflies, without a care in the world. As you were frollicing in the grass, you manage to trip over a rock tumbling to the ground scraping your knee making it bleed. Looking down at your slightly injured knee, your lip begins to quiver which eventually leads to wails of tears streaming down your face.

“you don’t have to cry you know?” said a slightly quiet voice towering over you. Above you was a boy, quite tall with a fat pair of glasses, golden eyes and a head full of blonde locks.

“Well when I get hurt, I cry” you say matter oh factly (is that the phrase?) rubbing your nose as you sniffle. He held out a hand to you, which you immediately took shooting upwards and brushing yourself off.  

The boy, after looking at you wildly, turns around and walks back to the actual park. “Oi wait,” you call at the boy swiftly following him “aren’t you going to ask my name?”

“no.” he says simply, proceeding to walk ahead.

“well my names Y/N L/N pleasure to meet you,” you say jumping in front of him so he doesn’t move, waiting for him to tell you his name...which he doesn’t. “you don’t have to be so rude you know”  

“I’m not being rude” he says stiffly “ it’s just my brother says not to speak to strangers” a smirk appears on his face to say ‘you can leave me alone now.’  

As if on cue, his brother approaches the both of you given the boy a slap on the back making him cringe “Hey Kei, who’s the friend you’ve made here?”  

“My name is Y/N L/N and I'm here to be KEI’s best friend!” you said putting the emphasis on the word Kei after just learning that was the blondes name.  

Kei rolled his eyes and sighed saying “nii-chan can we go home now” he folded his arms in annoyance.

“No Kei, you’ve got to get to know your new found friend Y/N-Chan right?” his brother said teasingly, knowing it was the last thing Kei wanted to do.

“Yes ofcourse!” you say with a toothy grin, dragging Kei along with you to his demise.

Until the sun went down, you spent the rest of your time with Kei getting to know eachother (well him getting to know you more, since you did all the speaking.) Regardless of his previous annoyance in getting to know you in the first place, Kei would be lying if he said he didn’t want to know you now.

As the sun was setting, Kei’s older brother (who’s name you learned was Akiteru) called him to tell him he had to go home because dinner was ready. Before he left, you grabbed his hand and wrapped your pinky finger around his saying “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

back to present -  

In some odd way, this was Kei’s way of looking out for you. He knew what you had was uncurable and would weaken you even more as the days go by, so pretending like nothing was wrong seemed to be best in his eyes.  

Everything you and Kei did was a game or some nostalgic act that you once did when you were children. It was sweet to say the least, seeing Kei all engrossed and determined to make you happy.  

Your alarm rings snapping you out of you daydream, ‘it was time for medicine’ you thought with your face scowling at the thought. Immediately on time, as always, Kei comes In the room with all your medicine thats needed.

“Aren’t you my perfect little nurse Kei” you say teasingly giving him a wink, laughing as you see his face turn red.

“Do you have to do this every time y/n?” he asks rolling his eyes at your childish behaviour.

“Oh I'm just showing love to my best and favourite nurse” you continue laughing at your own words

“Im your only ‘nurse’” he deadpans giving you your medicine as you talk.

“Well that is more reason to make you the best nurse.” you say smiling.

Silence falls between you, and you stare down at your arm watching as your husband gives you the medicine making you frown. “Do we have to keep doing this?” you ask which is probably the 1000th time you’ve asked.

“Of course we do Y/N as I’ve said yesterday and the day before that and the day before that it-”

“But do we really?” you interrupt “I can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep doing this.”

“Do you doubt me Y/N, I can do this forever” he says “ I can take care of you forever”

“But I don’t wan-”

“I’m finished, I’m going to start on dinner” he gets up and leaves the room yelling “I’ll call you when it’s done.”

Sometimes you and Kei have these conversations. And all the time it ends the same way. You complain, he ignores and then you go and have dinner.

You can understand why he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Who would want to hear about their partners complaints about practically being alive. Kei was torn, ever since he met you all he wanted to was to keep you happy. But could he compromise his own happiness for it.

15 year old Y/N - flashback

“Kei Kei, aren’t you excited!” you yell smiling widley

“Excited for what?” he asks, amused by your enthusiasm “it’s just highschool.”

“Well it’s a new highschool! Karasuno high school, to be exact.”

“And that is still just a school.” he says

“Not just any! That’s the school nii-chan went too, and even tho he lie-”

“Let’s not talk about it Y/N” he murmurs “we should go now, don’t want to be late on our first date.”

Going to Karasuno was fun, at the start everyone was pleasant and nice. But after a week or two when you and Kei were still stuck to eachother like glue, people weren’t so pleasant. Kei was like a pop idol, being gorgeous and over 6ft at just the age of 15, caused alot of attention, especially when he was always around you.

At the start, the hate you got was bearable, it was the petty bitchy notes in your locker or just people blatanly talking badly about you infront of you. People didn’t do it when you weren’t around Kei, so when he had volleyball practice (which you were so excited that he joined the team) you were a big target for the bullies to come around.

Kei didn’t really know of the bullying that happened towards you, especially since he was mainly in practice or not around when it happened. But one day in practice he heard some of his teammates, kageyama and hinata who seemed to talking about a student in one of their classes that was always getting picked on by the other girls in the year.

“Yeah and I heard that Nana-san was planning on getting her and her friends to attack Y/N-san soon.”  said Hinata

“Shrimpy, who are they planning on attacking?” Kei asks to make sure he just heard the ginger correctly.

“Oh this lovely person in our class their name is Y/N-san” he says, looking at Kei’s reaction he also asks “Why? Do you know them?”  

Kei doesn’t respond, and immediately leaves the gym, ignoring Hinata’s and the other members of the teams yells of ‘Where are you going tsukishima.’ He didn’t care, he just had to get to you.  

He searched all the classes, asking every student if he knew where you were. Someone directs him to the toilets, where he burst through the door to see the other girls in your year surrounding you and beating you up.  

“What the fuck are you doing to them?” he yells startling the girls.

“T-T-Tsukishima-san" one girl says “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh fuck off” he says, with them still frozen in shock “I said go!”  

“And don’t think I don’t know your names either” he calls after them.

He rushes towards your bruised body on the ground and cradles you gently, confused on what to really do. “Oi Kei,” you say weakly catching his attention “I would’ve won if you didn’t come to stop the fight.” you joke making him scoff.

“Whatever you say Y/N.”

After you heal up, Kei already told on the girls that beat you up getting them suspended, and you explain how they were treating you because of their infatuation of him. And how they only did it when he wasn’t around.

Once he learns this information, he decides to quite the volleyball team, to your surprise. But you demands on making him not quit were ignored, as he excused it by saying “I have to make sure you’re always alright remember, and if that means quitting some volleyball team then so be it.”

That was one out of the many times that Kei put his happiness before yours.

Flashback over.

When you first got diagnosed, Kei was immediately researching on it as it was a very rare condition. But sadly, he only found what the doctor already told you both. It was uncurable and your immune system and your body will weaken as the days go by.

Which it did, you were a shell of your past self. It was always shocking for Kei to see, especially with you only being 25. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be this way,’ but he never let you see his sadness.

Whenever you knew Kei was sad you always reminded him “Kei, I may be dying but please don’t cry over me” every time you said, there was a slight undertone of humour in your voice which always worked in boosting Kei’s spirit.

AN: IVE GOTTEN TO THE POINT WHERE I HATE THIS SOOO IM SORRY IN ADVANCE FOR THE SHITTING RUSHED ENDING IM GOING TO PROVIDE FOR YOU LOL.

The days passed and the years went by, and you and Kei were still alive and kicking it. Doing your daily routine of you making some joke, Kei giving you your medicine and then you eating dinner. You eventually stopped complaining, realizing and remembering your promise you gave to Kei at 5 years old in that park. “As long as we shall live, we will always look out for eachother as we are forever bestfriends, agreed?”

Of course you had your rough days, everybody did and it was even harder being sick with a terminal illness. But having Kei to guide you through the storm made It better for you.

However, Kei isnt a miracle worker. He couldn’t save you, noone could. And you both knew that. That didn’t mean it made it any easier when the medicine stopped working and your pain got too hard to bear. Kei couldn’t watch you do this anymore, “the choice is yours” he said with tears in his eyes.  

So you knew what you had to do, you got in your bed pulling Kei with you, and letting him envelope you in a big hug as you both cried.

“I love you,” you say “You know that right?”

“Of course I know that, idiot” he replies “And I love you.”

“Always and forever?”

“Always and forever.”

AN: how did I END UP CRYING WHILST WRITING THIS WHEN IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE, I WAS TRYING TO DO THIS COOL NOTEBOOK (I HAVENT EVEN WATCHED THE NOTEBOOK) ENDING WHERE ITS AMBIGIOUS AND SHIT AND I JUST GIVE UP OKAY? I APOLOGISE LOOOOOOL. I HOPE YOU ENJOY ATLEAST A SENTENCE OF THIS AT LEAST.

[babycracker]

A dying kiss because apparently I'm a glutton for angst

aren't we all? thank you ❤ i had to think a bit abt who to use for this but i decided on adam and zoe 👀 bc i know you're an adam & mason person and ive alr tortured mason recently, thought i'd better give the bloke a break.

send a ❣ for a random kiss

a dying kiss adam/f!detective (zoe webster) ~740 words mature (major character death, slight mention of blood)

--

It's too late. A strange concept for Adam, one he is no longer familiar with. It's been centuries since being too late for something has been an issue he's needed to concern himself with, time being the one thing he has an abundance of.

But it is definitely too late. He held out for too long, too happy for Nate to ever even think about his own happiness, and now Zoe lays badly injured against his chest, head cradled in his arms, and he already knows that Nate is not going to get here in time.

At least - he hopes - he can be of some comfort to her in her final minutes. He knows it's not the same as Nate being here, something that hurts almost as much as the fact that he's about to lose her forever, but at least he's something. Something familiar, something grounded. And someone that loves her, perhaps more than anyone else could ever love her. Perhaps even more than Nate loves her.

"You really-" her voice is quiet, weak, and she pauses to cough and then inhales raggedly, and Adam can hear the blood gurgling in her lungs as she does, "still don’t have anything to say to me?"

He looks down at her, his hand absentmindedly stroking through her hair as he readies himself to give his usual response.

There is nothing to be said.

But now is not the time. Now it is too late, and they both know that there is plenty to be said. Too much to be able to fit it all into the few minutes she has left to hear it. Because he has waited too long, and it is too late.

He can hear shouts in the distance, recognises them immediately as the rest of Unit Bravo calling for them, and he knows that he should call back. He knows that Nate deserves this chance to be with her and hold her more than he does, but as he looks back out into the woods around them a hand grabs weakly at the lapels of his coat.

"Just a minute more," she insists, the sound of her slowing heart growing louder as it struggles to keep pumping.

"You may not have a minute more," he warns.

"Just be with me for what I've got then."

He nods, drawing her closer to him and finally slumping down to the ground with her so as to pull her onto his lap.

"I am not ready to lose you," he murmurs quietly after a long silence and she shifts, just barely, in his arms.

"Ready or not, you're about to."

He's not sure if the warning in her voice is deliberate or not, but he can't bring himself to ignore it. Ready or not, this is his only chance. He cannot let her go without ever letting her know for sure.

So, he gently lifts her head closer to him as he leans in himself, his eyes falling closed as he lets his lips close around hers. She's barely able to reciprocate, her body growing weaker by the second, but she kisses him back as much as she can, another sharp gasp and cough breaking them apart far too soon.

He doesn't even get to say anything to her. Doesn't even get the chance to tell her a fraction of what he meant by the kiss before she gives him a small smile as her heartbeat slows even more.

Tears sting his eyes when hers close and her heart finally stops, leaving her lying limp in his arms just as the rest of Unit Bravo crash through the trees around them, coming to a sudden halt at the scene before them.

And for once, Adam doesn't push her away from him the second he notices Nate's attention. He holds her body tighter, the unfamiliar sensation of a tear sliding over his cheek breaking his stare away from her as Nate kneels beside him.

He hears his friend talking, hears him sobbing, sees one hand brushing through Zoe's hair, and feels the other arm wrap around his body and Nate's face burying into his neck, his tears soaking the collar of his jacket.

It is too late, but he takes a small amount of comfort from the knowledge that he had managed to show at least a fraction of his affections to her in the very end.

--

tags (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @homeformyheart @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @kelseaaa @fhauvilles @amlovelies @forestcreatures @maraudern05 @kat-tia801 @alyssalauren @winterkeys @graysinblack @adamdumorpain @zevorah

[floralkittygambler]

HuskerDust - More Toxic Than You Think [LONG]

This is the rough version of a deeper and more complex subject I want to ‘decorate’ with more ‘screencaps’.  DISCLAIMER: This is allegedly controversial and led to me getting literal death threats and an ED triggered. Ive about heard a lot of people’s shit on this so dont try it. I’m speaking from personal experiences too - experiences I really fuckin dont wanna be sharin yet they kinda validate my points. I want people to be aware of the damaging image from someone who can speak from experience without attracting dickheads or people twisting things. Again, I aint particularly comfortable sharing this so yeah- Be courteous- TW AHEAD - ALSO LONG ASS READ. DNI STANS OR ANTIS. May tag a few folks, may not.  HuskerDust is an extremely popular ship in the community however there’s glaringly obvious flaws in this one-sided relationship that both the fans and even the team fail to see. Neglecting the dangerous real world implications this ship [as well as many others] present to it’s audience - especially the more influenced of the audience, most who are children.

Angel flirts with all the male cast however one who catches his eye the most is Husk. Now I want to point out a few things [of many... obviously]; Angel is instantly starry eyed upon seeing Husk, likewise he actually started off with a ‘Hey~’ instead of something sexual. However he quickly ruins this after Husk tells him to go fuck himself [defined by: “ go fuck yourselfphrase of fuckVULGAR SLANGan exclamation expressing anger or contempt for, or rejection of, someone.” ie, he rejected instantly] by responding with an offer to allow Husk to essentially watch him masterbate. Alongside this, he cradles his face. Husk pulls away and seems to pull a face to express rage/disgust or growling imagery alongside COMPLETELY withdrawing his body away from Angel as Angel stares with goo-goo eyes. Firstly, Angel loves animals - perhaps it’s Husk appearing cute that adds to this, however Im not going to address animal imagery just yet. Secondly, Angel isn’t really portrayed to respect other’s boundaries BUT he does respect... Alastor’s. Al declines the blowjob to which Angel shrugs and doesn’t push this matter any further. With Husk, he’s pretty harshly told to piss off yet he makes quite and explicitly sexual remark, alongside invading his personal space and touching a man clearly disinterested and pulling away. From the initial rejection, it then becomes sexual harassment.  I also want to add that Husk comes with [some] perks in his feline form. And if my name didnt make it obvious, I work with and live with cats on a daily. Briefly, I have been educated in how to understand cat’s language in various individual cat as well as how to handle and work with them. Cats are often drawn towards me and Ive been successful with various types of cats. My most recent being a cat I’ve dubbed as Big - Big was abandoned quite young and has lived most his life on the streets [where I live is high in crime and drug rings, so you can imagine how strays are treated] leading to him being extremely fearful and hating people, hissing and fleeing just seeing people. I took time out last summer to finally give befriending him a shot. It’s taken just under a year of hard work and now he visits every day for his mush [wet food] and kisses, responds to his name and runs up to me in delight. Ive even taught him a phrase to signal that I dont want him or the other cat’s to fight [keeps them all safe and aids them becoming acquainted under supervision - something that’s been working surprisingly well]. I apologise in advance as this is not going to be the first instance of this sort of thing but they are relevant. Trying my best to keep it as brief.  For Husk, I will be using a mix of cat and human characteristics to break down his reactions.  In this first interaction, he turns his body away in a way to suggest caution, wariness and disinterest. In fact, much of his general body language is that of a man deeply closed off from connections - for starters, he folds his arms quick a bit which suggests lack of openness, shutting off and defensiveness *usually*. Likewise, when touched, he slightly jumps and tenses before pulling back in aggression with flattered ears - a sign cats give to display extreme hostility in a situation. It’s NEVER a good thing but then again, neither is crossing someone’s boundaries. It’s even stated that Husk hates Angel’s advances and wishes for nothing to do with him - the same dislike of sexual advances that Al dislikes in Angel. The ending as they all walk inside, Angel turns to Husk, winking and blowing a kiss his way despite the clear rejection earlier. In fact, Husk once again grows tense and is even irked by such a gesture. This won’t be the last mention of Angel totally disregarding how Husk feels - something that rubs off onto the fans AND the team themselves. And it’s... *concerning*, to phrase it lightly. Angel so far is the most persistent towards the most resistant, and in my post on RadioDust I have already established [briefly] on how Angel seems to chase unavailable men. The more unavailable, the more tempting. The one that got away, mentality. It’s not healthy. And I’m surprised so few have acknowledged this. Taking a break from what we’ve seen in the Pilot, let’s establish some facts about the pair.  Angel died in 1947 in his 30s [some posts specify 34-35], putting his birth year around 1911-12ish. Husk died in the 70s IN his 70s [again, nothing is truly specified, so for both we’ll go with 75 - the same number in his IG username] that puts birth year roughly 1900′s. Now an age gap between two adults of 11 - 12 years difference is actually reasonable and can work, depending on circumstance and whether theres a balance in power or not. But when we account for their life experiences and death ages, it’s something else entirely. Angel died young. Not only that but his mind seems more stuck in his raunchy teens than of an adult. And even THEN, he wouldnt be one to necessarily settle down [by which I mean in life, not romance]. He’s extremely emotionally stunted and his selfishness and wanting his own way come off very spoilt [when Husk is pissed off about the cat costume, Angel gets moody because he’s used to compliments AND is dressing to impress Husk. When Husk wanted the money he was rightfully owed, Angel threw a fit for ages until starting to earn it back - even though he owed Husk a drink, which I’ll be coming back to, Husk still wanted the money in the end perhaps hinting to only accepting a freebie as it’s on offer as well as Angel being overly persistent. He even dumps his pig onto Husk to look after, while theres no issue in pet sitting, Angel said Husk ‘owed’ him due to missing the show yet when HE owed Husk, he threw a fit.]. Angel’s life style is wildly chaotic in life AND death, and even though we all know he’s most likely going to be redeemed, he still lacks a lot of experiences in life. He lacks maturity.  On the other hand, Husk’s been through his own share of chaos and heartbreak. Difference is, he’s had a life time of experience. He doesn’t act immature in a childish sense. He truly behaves like a downtrodden old man. He’s had his days and would feel more secure settling down in a more peaceful environment with fun yet much needed calm. A better way to handle his need for risk. Age gaps in adults that are large [75 - 35 = 40 years!] are far less likely to work for a multitude of reasons. The main reason is the difference in life stages - that difference in mentality and experiences plays such an impacting role on compatibility. Often their goals and energies are polar opposites and their common grounds minimal. There’s also the looming concern of power dynamics. Whilst it’s usually the older figure that’s holds the power advantage, in this case it’s a little bit more complicated. I’d argue that it’s possibly Angel with the higher power. This rarely works irl but it’s POSSIBLE. Look at Hugh Heffner and his last partner before his death. I believe she was around 22. However there’s many common grounds, immediate attraction, and similar goals. Though incorrect, Heffner does give off a pimp-like vibe (he’s not but you get what I’m implying with mothlike imagery). Husk does not strike me as that type. It would definitely cheapen his character. In terms of interests, the main thing they have in common is that they like to drink. A bad habit, especially when one is an alcoholic. Both are also rather lazy except for certain circumstances [Husk will go out of his way to help HOWEVER he’s obliged to under Al, the only one he’s seen to willingly help and bond with/be seen with is Niffty. Angel is when there’s a fight, chaos, drama or any sex work]. Both are also rather snarky and vulgar. In terms of love, both suffer intimacy issues. On Husk, it’s ‘losing the ability to love a long time ago’ meaning he was likely cheated on or at least had a failed relationship. If he was ever ready for a new start, he’d definitely want something stable yet rewarding. For now, he needs a LOT of work - work he is not yet willing to put in, nor does he have a reason to. Angel doesnt want to commit because he’s extremely selfish as well as in an already abusive ‘relationship’ already. Sex work is sometimes VERY taxing on the mental health due to some of the folk you service. He’s seen the worst in many and just enjoys the pay and fuck. IF Husk was cheated on, then it’d make a lot of sense if a sex worker wouldn’t be his flavour, it would just serve as a reminder. Not only this, but Angel HIMSELF actively participates in cheating. Not with Val... but with *Travis*. BOTH know Travis is married (I’d be feckin worried if Trav didnt-) yet they still choose to cheat anyways, regardless of the pain it could cause. Angel even mocks this by sending greetings to Trav’s wife. Honestly this... Reminds me a LOT of Stolas - a main character who sexually harasses another character clearly not interested/comfortable, participates in cheating and we’re supposed to root for them (and before anyone gets offended, I do have more to say on Angel’s behalf so please be patient). Either way, it’s very toxic and concerning. Even if Husk wasn’t cheated on, I dont think many would feel exactly secure after having such a rough past with love, diving into a relationship with someone who’s openly participated in multiple affairs. And that’s no shitting on sex workers either, it’s just a point that some would feel uncomfortable with the idea of being with ANYONE (regardless of their work) having actively and KNOWINGLY took part in having an affair previously - especially multiple. Husk’s in an emotionally fragile place and needs more security. We’ve already established Husk heavily dislikes Angel’s advances. In fact, his responses to Angel are similar to his responses to... Al! His body language is VERY test and closed off to even Al, who’s most likely knew him for a very long time. If even Al gets this treatment (whilst also disrespecting his boundaries) then it’ll be the same with Angel (both force Husk into their lives and schemes, both disregard his boundaries). And he’s shown to STILL go out his way to help both however this is most likely tied to an unspoken ‘debt’ he owes Alastor. Plus he’s been mentioned behind the scenes to be a secret softie and protective grandpa type. But this animosity is very reflective of how Loona behaves and responds to Blitzo as well as how both Loona AND Husk (One being a ‘lowly servant’, the other being a literal old MAN) as pets - even the fans - just because of their forms. But this isnt the first of the disrespect they receive. Now we delve deeper Both are addicts of some kind (Husk - drinking, gambling. Angel - Drugs, possibly sex). Not a good mix at all romantically. Addicts often and unintentionally feed their addictions to each other as well as can increase likelihood of relapsing which even a recovered addict can slip back into. When times get tough (a natural occurrence) both are likely to suffer with their addictions. Interestingly, they can become addicted and dependent on one another, which is genuinely unhealthy for a mindset anyways, regardless whether addiction existed prior or not. Addiction only increases these chances. Angel likes confidence in a man (confirmed on Patreon). Yet, Husk is even confirmed  in streams to be deeply troubled and insecure. One thing he hates is his demon form, something that we’ll touch on shortly. Angel loves quality food ESPECIALLY of Italian origin whilst Husk is willing to eat the shit they give you in bars (admittedly that was painful to type as someone who grew up around pubs - either way it’s not exactly high quality or gourmet is what I’m saying). Interestingly, in some character references of Angel, it’s stated that he hates rejection. Hates. That’s a VERY strong word. This could explain but not justify why he’s persistent with Husk (similar to NiceGuys believing you’re playing ‘hard to get’ - further illuding to an immature and toxic mindset) though it interestingly doesn’t apply with Alastor. Odd.  There’s a counterpoint to symbolism in art. A very VALID counterarguement... If it suited Viv’s style. During Media Studies, Business, Design and Art, hell fucking Silent Hill! - I’ve been educated on effective symbolism as well as artistic trademarks (the most famous that most should know is Alfred Hitchcock!). Hitchcock often appeared in all his films, usually as a sidefacing silhouette, trading marking his films with his very PRESENCE. Viv’s seems to revolve around hearts. I mention this because an IG account made the point that hearts were to symbolise anyone connected with Angel’s story and love life (Valentino’s business and shades/collar, heart behind Angel’s head, Heart tattoo on Cherri’s right shoulder, hearts for Husk’s paws, eyebrow marks above natural brows, wings, and nose as well as most of the playing cards). Thing is, there’s hearts EVERYWHERE in all of Viv’s works and such symbology of Angel and hearts is weakened if it connects to the villains/abusers as well - taking away the positivity in a love symbol. Viv’s used hearts in her font, backgrounds, in characters ears, in all her series just generalised, Blitzo’s forehead, background characters, again the cards, Travis’s eyes, Millie’s right shoulder in the SAME place as Cherris. Even Vaggie had a heart tattoo on the shoulder in some christmas themed artwork (on her left). Heart’s is just something Viv seems to brand herself with. And that’s fine though I feel she could do with cutting it down slightly. One thing to early note on the cards (again, this’ll creep up later and my name should tell you why), most are heart suits and usually either a face card (J, Q, K), Joker, ace or 2s. Face cards/Jokers for more details close up (look at the signing artwork) and the rest are just easier to animate, though a little bit of a peeve to someone into their cards as well as the massive overuse of red in Hazbin overall. It’s extremely unlikely to be symbolic. If they change it to be so, then it’s... Weakened. As I’ve mentioned earlier, Silent Hill is an example of extremely clever symbolism in more darker media (more so, SH is considered a ‘hell’ of sorts and does feature religious iconography WITHOUT causing offence. A great example of how to portray this type of thing - they even mix humour in if you consider some of the sneaky references, dialogues and odd UFO/dog endings).  Discussing Viv’s art further, she drew a gift for her sister (original creator of Husk when he possessed white fur) of Angel playfully dragging a disinterested and annoyed Husk (I believe this was still around the time SpiderMoth was canon). The newish art tends to have Angel putting a holly crown on him or sitting on his knees, Husk seeming too lazy to really do anything about it. Very nonchalant. I also want to include some interesting stream arts here and later to further highlight their bond.  A fan asked Viv in a stream to draw them “actually getting along” - this wording implying that the fan is aware of Husk not enjoying Angel’s company. So Viv did, with an extra doodle of Husk being one of the ‘canadian people’ from South Park who sing “Im not your friend”. The art alone shows Husk’s absolute discomfort, even the extra thing Viv added w/o request. As they’re her characters and the fan asked for what they’d look like getting along, to show this discomfort goes to show the dynamic once planned. Husk just isnt a fan of Angel, especially when he’s being sexual and touchy. It can be great for small comedic parts, however both the team AND fans have now crossed this over to really creepy and triggering realms in their ships. It’s creepy and doesnt look good on Angel (who they actively root for) nor the gay community (more on that).

[Yes Ive already pointed out the comedic side of this ^ but it doesnt bode well considering the other points and issues that arise] There’s also a request for drag angel flirting with drunk husk. Personally thats a lil creepy to specify one of the two being intoxicated and thus not able to truly consent. If Angel is willing to flirt with someone in that state, it doesnt mean he would fuck them, but it does feel the fan was thinking that’s the case. In all truth, I think Angel WOULD flirt with those incapable of consent purely to swindle or pickpocket. I’d like to think [and HOPE considering his own abuse by Val] that he’d never take it further. And I hope Viv, the team and the fans see how incredibly creepy that thought is. I’ll give benefit of the doubt though it is still a concern. Either way, Angel appears... Annoyed? Husk is completely turned away and seems incredibly grouchy and confused. This shows yet more rejection on his behalf as well as Angel’s response to being rejected, which highlights his immaturity towards it. Remember, he’s USED TO and EXPECTS everyone to want him (even saying this in the Pilot). Hell, there’s even a Rich Vaggie request where Viv again randomly includes Husk. This time, he’s faced towards her and relaxed, though seems unimpressed and overall disinterested in this type of behaviour. Behaviour and interests of Angel [Celeb status and rich appearance due to Val, despite getting very little of the cut and the vanity, as well as Husk just not giving a shit about this sort of peacock display]. (Also wanted to note in Viv’s #3 stream 1:50:50, Faust makes out that Husk is a ‘dirty, creepy old man’ as well as him constantly threatening violence towards Angel. I dont see him as *creepy* in this context - as it implies perversion that he blatantly lacks fortunately - though it’s very telling of how Husk feels and again shows this toxic relationship).

/Angel’s Type: First off, daddy issues. He has them. Now let’s look at ‘daddy’. Henroin is shorter than Angel, dark fur, grumpy, old, wears only a hat and tie, big brows... Sounds familiar? Ok, look at his brother Arackniss. Similar to Henroin, dark, short, grouchy, bullied by and bullies Angel, is adverse to Angel and overall possess a bad relationship. Ok.... His main client, Travis! Short, dark fur, moody, Only wears hat and tie, drinker (shown in stream as request so take drinking with a pinch), similar face to- Is no one else seeing this trait? Angel seems to go for these shorter than him grouchier men who either want him for sex or hate his presence. Men who are like his dad and brother. All of these guys are far too similar, and we’ve got enough men in suits, bowties and sharp teeth in this show to boot as it is- The psychology of this type of attachment is rooted in a bad familial relationship alongside the subconscious desire to repair or compensate for it. Unknowningly the person will keep seeking out this sort of guy who isnt good for them to fix this internal issue. The resolution is to NOT go for these types. It’s also connected to intimacy fears, by going for those you know arent good for you/right for you/interested in you is often the manifestation of these issues. Pair them with daddy issues and it’s a disaster! There is science to back this up. Valentino is interestingly the opposite yet still toxic issues arise. Why? Because he’s going from one extreme to the other but with the same mindset. Neither of these men or types for MANY reasons are right for him. And visa versa. Seeing a pattern? ~~~~

Angel w Husk? I mentioned before that Husk hates his demon form. If you’re an old man, a gambler, some Vegas bloke and have this grouchier disposition, why the fuck would you want to look like an oversized pet? Exactly. Angel however adores his own aside from the feet. Now I find it strange how the guy we’re rooting for just so happens to like his own form which was intended for punishment. But that’s not todays post. I said earlier that Angel is heavily fixated on Husk’s appearance. Especially the feline aspects (calling him Husky and Kitty - petnames he hates that also treat him again more like a pet than a man -, dressing as a ‘sexy cat’ to appeal to him which can come off as more mockery. This is even backed up by fans who seem to think an old guy’s gonna act like some school girl anime trope?). All of this completely disregards and disrespects Husk’s feelings and perspectives. Something the fans and team take part in actively. Angel - whether you want to hear this or not - is SELFISH. When Husk ‘owed’ him for missing the show (babysitting Fat Nuggets), Husk begrudgingly fulfils this. The second Angel owed Husk for stealing drinks, Angel threw a hissy fit. The silent treatment, going to other bars and posting about it whilst complaining (again focusing on Husk being ‘cute’). Trying to cop out of it by buying Husk a smoothie (though it looked like a date, lets be real, do you REALLY have to bribe someone to date and be around you? No) and even then he still had to owe the money which was more of Husk’s concern. Yes he did in the end and more money than needed, hence the returning of the extra cash, but that is no excuse for the childish behaviour prior. He’s much too accustomed to being adored and pampered and getting his own way that he cant grasp when people arent a fan or willing to pamper him. If they make them a ship, all it does it make Angel completely into a shitty Gary-Stu that everyone loves and pities for his suffering, rather than teach him to grow, earn his redemption and confronting his own toxicity. Let me make this extremely clear: ANGEL DOES NOT DESERVE ABUSE OR RAPE. But when he starts behaving as shitty, he’s hard to root for. Remember, he’s sexually harassing all these guys, with Husk getting the brunt of it. But it’s treated as a joke for them and only taken seriously for Angel. Val abuses all of his employees. He abuses VOX and even THAT was mocked by fans and staff. It’s... It’s frankly gross.  In every interaction Husk has with Angel, his body language is closed off, tense, uncomfortable, turned away and hostile - look at the IG. He wont even allow Angel to touch him. Compare this to Niffty, who he’s fine with taking pictures with and letting her hang around and touch him. Body language is relaxed (relaxed shoulders, open body language) and he doesnt look hostile at all. What does Angel do? Always tries to get close to Husk (such as sitting as close as possible during Poker) and forces both his OWN hobbies onto Husk (ones that Husk shows a strong disinterest in) and Husk’s hobbies (Poker). It’s very FORCED and not natural. Going back to immaturity, he blames Husk and his cards for being shit at the game. They’re always bickering, insulting, fighting in the comments but fans only see this as a ‘cute couple fight’ or Husk being ‘tsundere’.Tsundere. An anime trope often used in young characters. Irl tsundere is NOT this dramatised. The tsundere you see in anime, apply that irl and you get the recipe for the most toxic, petty and immature relationship going. You get constant fights, unease, not feeling loved/appreciated, little trust - the list goes on. Plus an old bloke really isnt going to indulge in tsundere traits. It’s childish. After his history with love, I doubt he’d be up for games and messing about. For something meaningful, he’d just want open honesty. Their ‘relationship’ feels like it’s written by horny kids attempting a fanfic after being inspired by 50 shades and twilight (both show toxic relationshiiiiiips~). The worst is that these are adult writers trying to portray some realistic yet sensitive topics. This is just ill fuckin taste. Even the warnings in Helluva’s ‘Horny Demons’ leaves a bad taste when the fans are thinking Stolas is the best dad despite both parents ruining Octavia’s mental health. Despite the next day after that episode aired Stolas starts flirting with Blitzo again on IG. Despite Blitzo being clearly uncomfortable and sexually harassed and even co-herced into sex (VERY UNHEALTHY MESSAGES HERE). Viv herself has been in bad relationships so how the fuck she’s blind to this and even borderline fetishizing this sort of behaviour that everyone seems to play off as ‘Awwww cute tsundere <3 BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS BOYFRIENDS’ is abhorrent. I’ll go into this more later on how this really just... It treats male sexual harassment and assault as a fucking joke- Angel’s constant unwarranted flirting is no different from the freaks on IG that send dick pics to underage kids and random women in their dms and fathom that they’re ‘nice’ and have a ‘chance’. Wanna know the creepiest? The candid photo of Husk on Angel’s wall. Something Husk seems horrified about. It’s fangirlish and teenager like at BEST, and obsessive stalker at worst. He’s NOT respecting Husk’s boundaries or feelings. That’s still up despite Husk’s reaction. He still wore the costume despite Husk’s feelings. Angel’s thinking with his dick and it’s such a fucked up message that everyone seems to support just because ‘its FICTION. Theyre in HELL.Theyre BAD people.’ Yeah? Well look at how that’s effecting and warping reality and perspective. It’s glamourising it. Fetishsizing stalking and making it cute. Yer have celebrity or boyband or whatever youre a fan of pics on your wall. NOT your crush. NOT someone who clearly isnt interested or happy with this. If someone who kept commenting on your pictures “sexy” suddenly had a picture of you on their wall, what would YOU think? How would YOU FEEL? Because myself and my own sisters have been in VERY fucking similar situations and it’s traumatic. His paw is even attempting the lens - Angel is crossing his boundaries and not getting the message that Husk doesnt want this. He’s forcing himself onto Husk. Yknow... VAL forced himself on Angel and it ended up in numerous rapes. Angel hasnt raped Husk, but if he wont take no. If he wont respect boundaries. If he only wants Husk to do what he wants but throws a fit when he owes husk - he’s picking up on Val’s bad habits more and more. How are so few - even the very team creating this - not seeing how disgusting this is? Are we only supposed to give a shit if Angels hurt? If so, the message isnt so much of how despicable Val is but how awful it is to upset Angel. Fans constantly blame Husk for being grumpy, annoyed at or rejecting Angel. Look at this real world implication. Not only that but Angel being gay just reinforces one of the worlds most disgusting and inaccurate stereotype of gay men being sexual predators and forcing men to have sex whether theyre comfortable or not. MOST gay men arent like this, and those who are its just because THEYRE shitty people (Jeffree fucking Starr, but look how people ‘stan’ his fuckin behaviour). Val is rubbing off on Angel as much as fiction has a MASSIVE impact on reality - whether we’re willing to admit it or not. Like Val, hes pushing past boundaries, he’s selfish, hes more into visuals than anything else. It’s one sided, superficial and theres no click. No connection. Be in this situation yourself and seeing this sorta shit becomes second nature to stay alive. Angel even says that most of hells residents are ‘ugly freaks’ yet finds Husk cute. It’s all LOOKS. Who else likes appearances alone? Val. I know this will trigger and upset fans, Ive been told to fucking die and have my ED triggered when I mentioned it before. But accept that all of them have flaws. Everyone irl have flaws. But there’s flaws and then theres a fuckin crime. If Husk was a woman, more people would see the flaw, but even then... Look at many romance movies - not all but many go for opposites attract (science proves this inaccurate irl), stalking, or even sexual harassments and assualts but she falls for him and they end up together. That aint love thats Stockholm with extra steps. Think you’re triggered and upset? Go through this shit - have a history with it happening - and then see some show you love and a comfort character get treated the exact same and everyone JUSTIFIES it, including the team themselves. It’s NOT cute.  Part 2 to the previous point: Both do share common interests, but it’s very unhealthy such as excessive drinking, both being addicts and being rather lazy, etc. Otherwise the common ground just isnt good. They’re opposites that really dont compliment each other. (Not a valid point here but I find it interesting how Angel loves aquariums and Husk can fly too). Viv’s writing is mediocre at best (but with glowing potential - a diamond in the rough - hence why it’s so frustrating) but Husk’s writing is the laziest. According to Viv he’s (paraphrased) “easiest to write... doesnt care about anything, almost always grumpy leading to similar reactions to everything”. His voice and alcoholism even has a lot of inspiration from Rick Sanchez. As I said with Angel in the RadioDust post, it’s almost like the addictions are seen as a joke. A running gag is fine if you can play it off well and it’s not about something so serious EVEN MORE SO when the series is about how damaging the addictions are and redemption. Why is this end goal being ignored unless it’s about Angel himself? That’s not just favouritism or bias, that’s also heavily self indulgent and a backwards ass message. Right now, Hazbin and Helluva have this ugly fixation on sex and ships. VIV has a fixation on ‘horny demons’. Her main characters are incredibly sexual bar Al (dont even say Husk, Niffty, Charlie or Vaggie or even loona and Moxxie are even on par with the focus and treatment Val, Angel, Blitz and Stolas are given). It’s very fixated and concerning. Its starting to feel like it’s about to divulge into hentai than a legit series with even a hint of the plot or a message. It reminds me of Family Guy trying to be BoJack. It’s starting to remind me of fucking Sausage Party and the final orgy. Sex and swears makes it inappropriate for kids but that doesnt make it adult or mature, and this is coming from someone who swears more than a fucking sailor whos stubbed his bare pinky toe on a fucking crate corner. Constant swears arent funny or artful in the slightest when it’s over done. It’s just... childish adult humour. We cant be expected to want to root for any of them at this rate- All A24 and other companies are seeing is big cash and easily manipulated child audiences (for easy money). They KNOW it can be better but theyd rather be lazy as they’ll profit big either way. This is going to end up like YanSim and YanDev. Amazing potential, shit writing with a leader too stubborn to accept and act on criticism, seeing it as hate. At this point, Husk isnt a deeply troubled man with vices and interests. He’s just fuck candy and romantic end goal for Angel. To compliment and complete him. Just another accessory to the Angel Show. Vivs sister who made Husk even loves Angel so it’ll only serve to further this already toxic narrative.  The ship doesnt look or feel right. There’s too much established now to see the dynamics and favouritism in the creators. Self indulgence. You cant play favourites when you do this sort of thing professionally. The audience can see it and it turns people away. Ask any nonHaz/Helluva fan what they think and it’s... Well, average.  Another thing is everyone went full hype on Frozen focusing on something other than romance as a form of love. But then go back to “Ok now everyone reenact the final scenes of Sausage Party” afterwards. Not everything is sex and romance, and it really is starting to feel Viv and the fans are focused on that like Incels focusing on ‘chad’. It’s creepy. Helping with food, telling someone self conscious on their weight that they’re not fat, not taking more money than someone owes, even helping out with a pet - that’s something that a good friend would do. In fact, Husk even laughs at the goofy Angel cutout and it being destroyed. It doesnt instantly equate to wanting to fuck. The fact that the fans and even some of the team seem borderline horny is... Completely destroying this show, it’s message and everything about it. Viv said ships were hardly the focus in her stream but look at it now. Look at what Viv focuses on now. It’s just fanservice shit. Nothing more. Self indulgence shit, look at the team making rape into a fetish or shipping themselves publicly with the characters on the public IGs. It’s like watching children run a business and it’s painful because the entire series is suffering when it could be amazing.  Friendship should be more normalised as a valuable type of relationship just as much as love or family are. I’ll also add that Husk adding after the show “Oh fuck... Is this what I missed? Shit.” is ooc like the ‘date’ (that was compensation for stolen drinks, like a tamer version of Blitzo fucking Stolas for the grimoire). It contradicts that he slept it off rather than an attempt at staying awake, as well as calling it a “god damn peepshow” implying a repulsion to the peverse tendencies. The constantly commenting, following and posting Angel related pics makes little sense either from someone who’s blatantly been sexually harassed as well as the clear repulsion of the candid pic on the wall. He outright rejected Angel. What would be realistic are the IGs focusing on learning about the characters, their lives and interests - ALL updating at realistic paces. Old men arent tech savvy usually nor care for social media that much. He’d post drinks, gambling, casinos, life with Niffty and Alastor. Heck maybe a picture of Angel captioned “When will this guy leave me the FUCK alone?”. He even only seems to tag angel, even in the pic that had Charlie and Vaggie [their shared account] or Niffty. Theres a CLEAR bias in the staff room and it’s messy. Look how most the female cast is ignored (Vaggie/Charlie, Velvet who posted a birthday gift to one of the new artists on the merch WHY? Gasu btw, Niffty, Millie only posting twice - heck even Vox and Loona sometimes get neglected. CLEAR. BIAS.) The ships focused on are 1) NOT established canon yet publicly favoured by Viv and the team (Stoliz, HuskerDust, VoxVal - that last pair havent actually got a VA either-), 2) Are TOXIC and theme around abuse or sexual harassment but it’s ‘cute because gae’ - NO. This makes gay people look really bad when they’re not. 3) HD and SL focus on one sided, stalkerish, cop out ‘tsundere’ excused ships to sugar coat the creepiness which only further fuels bigotry, 4) SL has MERCH on it now, so thats also profiting on sexual harassment imagery (again, dont give a shit they arent real - the EFFECTS are. The people who can relate ARE. The people being horridly stereotyped ARE). Thing is, the IGs originally were there to promote ADDICT which started as a fan song anyways despite everyone saying how Viv is stubborn in her ways an uninfluenced by her fans (proof says otherwise) yet shes allowed a fan song to be canon. Theres a focus on forced love for fanservice. The IGs have long outstayed their welcome. The Val account allows glamourisation of the sick shit Val does AND entinses fans to bully as they forget a REAL PERSON runs the fucking account, Val isnt even a scary villain either - hes just a big teen like everyone else - stuck in a teen drama with all this. Pimps are smart. Theyre scary. Theyre masters of manipulati- HOW DO THEY NOT DO THE RESEARCH?! Viv wanted this sense of realism and dealing with sensitive topics in one of the worst executed ways Ive ever seen- It’s toxic. It’s dangerous. These are shit messages and your fans display that when they think all criticism is ‘hAtE’ and actively bully real people w REAL EXPERIENCES. Telling them to ‘stop pls’ does fuck all because you still promote shit messages straight after. Like with Stolas to Blitz in a IG story a day after Ep 2. Classy.  Fanservice seems desperate to keep these fans (rather than market correctly... Just like YanDev) and it leads to fans feeling like they have the audacity to steer the series. Poor business with WEAK boundaries. Viv, you lost your series a long time ago. Want it back? LISTEN TO LEGIT CRITICISM. Stop surrounding yourself with yes men. Even my best fucking friend calls me out when Im out of line because a real friend will fucking take the chance of hurting your feelings if it means helping you in the long run and grow.  Mick joked about the inside of Husk’s ears matching Angels coat, that the ears are cat’s most sensitive and vulnerable parts. 1) Cats vulnerable part is their tummy - hence why you need their trust first (alternatively yer get the odd cat that has full confidence they cat hurt you a lot faster than you can tickle them - I own one), 2) Its weird that Viv doesnt know this considering how many cats she has - its important to learn the language of those you love to give them your full understanding and a great bond 3) This romanticises sexual harassment more than it already is in the media (remember, theres women out there still murdered for saying no!) as well as reinforces the stereotypes of gay men forcing non-interested men into sex (again, a very toxic and unrealistic trope - a dangerous one thats led to gays being murdered!). And the ears design is unnecessarily overly complex considering those fuckin wings he supports. If the design adds nothing to the character but aesthetic, then it can go on the chopping block. Rules for simple animation. Besides from Angel sharing the same tooth as Val (who knows if that was added after he started working for Val as branding?) you could use this argument to say Pent or Al are soulmates for Angel because of having striped suits, or sharp teeth - no, it was intended as a joke that Viv fueled to irresponsibly because it’s not the first time she’s dodged publicly addressing something (something youll NEED to get used to in a big company), and she’s publicly dodged shit after this too so Im not putting faith in her until she can act professionally as the job requires. Likewise, professionals should consider what and how they joke as they’re presenting an image of a company/business. And people WILL eat that shit up face value regardless. In her stream #2, a fan requests for art of flustered angel and smug husk to fuel their ship. at 2:10:21, she does so. She’s also done this for Baxter x Niffty and Cherri x Tom. As a professional, you really should be avoiding this sort of thing in the name of fanservice. I get it, fanservice = financial gain. But it also results in empty meaning. It’s a shell of what the passion project once was, hence why you make the ENTIRE skeleton before involving others. The team help construct the muscles, tendons and organs. The public - moreso critics and the more experienced in those fields help sew the skin. Then you bring it to life, the fans become like blood. They aid to keep it alive. Even Ash and Mick mention Husk being ‘tsundere’. Im had most my piece about it earlier, however I’ll repeat and add some extras. Tsundere is an exaggerated personality, often used in younger characters. In terms of a relationship, it’s very immature, leads to poor communication and results in a toxic love. Science can back this up as well as the lack of realism. It’s more immature minds/hearts that go to what they interpret as tsundere in hopes of the love life the media portrays. A farce. Y’know what Angel needs? Someone open, honest, open to love and comforting. He doesnt need someone rebuffing and him chasing. It’s nothing more than an immature thrill. Once the love begins, it’s burns out QUICK. It’s far from sustainable or healthy. It’s not what either really need and further show Angel’s fixation on men who subconsciously remind him of his father. It’s not healthy. Another thing is a tsundere actually IS interested but shows it in the most immature and childish means possible. Would a really old bloke actually give a shit to play those sorts of games? No. Not one coming from a place like husk has. It’s painful how lacking in research and experience these people are. Science backs up that opposites solemnly attract also. In fact, they often either repel or only get as far as friendship.  Fan and Team Mentality in Brief: Im coming out with my ultimate pet peeve: if you’re going to have one of the MAIN characters be a gambler, do your research. The only background shit is a casino, LOADS of sex references (in Pride? Really?) and drugs. It’s like someone listing what they think is adult and tabboo and naughty. It’s yikes. Cards are almost always aces, 2s or blank. MOST are heart suits (like we need MORE red - we get it, it’s hell. But it’s an immature larvae stage hell). I get 2s and aces being easier to animate, however you have Husks wings, the entire of alastor, angels arms - if youre busting the budget for the menial then bust it to the cards. Theres like ONE spade. The full house isnt a full house (here’s a display of the fans lack of education on the matter as well which serves as a sure sign that they know just as little on any of this as SpindleHorse, they think it’s a sign on him being a card cheat. A card cheat. I aint saying hes not but what I AM saying is poker professionals are some of the most observant people in the world. Especially when money’s involved they’ll ensure youve got your facts right. That wouldnt fly at ALL. But theres more~ fans think Husk spent loaaaads of time staring at angel’s face in the IG poker out of <3 Newsflash. When you play poker you read EVERYONE like a book. Every little twist and twitch of the features. Its not about love. It’s about winning. Its about money. Play enough poker and it’s instinct if you want to actually play decently. Call bluffs. Life aint a fuckin romance.) And playing Poker at a BlackJack table? In a casino? These are all common knowledge and basics if you just research. And this is coming from someone with a history of this.  The fans even believed Tipsy Bartender’s ‘Peach Princess Cocktail’ was something Spindlehorse made as a beverage form of Niffty, Angel and even Charlie because of the name. Now, Im not expecting everyone to be a fuckin boozy either, but to not even consider it’s a very real drink does show that many fans are far too young for that 18+ label.  Fanart of HD often has Husk being OOC OR being held hostage (often via webs - one even being reblogged by Viv, aint that cute!). Some even have Husk completely intoxicated, which would be rape. Im not sugarcoating it. Because too many are getting the sweet treatment and copying Viv’s ‘dont address and it disappears!’ tactic - A LOT of internet celebs do it. The ship is drawn a lot by the team in the public eye, Viv reblogs it publicly (SL, HD, alongside canon only ships, how curious-). Husk is pan yet doesnt behave as the stereotype. And Id FULLY support this with my fucking SOUL (fun fact: you cant sell a soul. Thats myth to scare people-) if it was done correctly. But the way bisexuals, lesbians, gays and aces are portrayed so stereotypically (even Pan in terms of Val’s sexomania), it’s really REALLY uncomfortly coming across as Husk being pansexual JUST to make him an ‘option’ for Angel. Hell even the hets are given a shite representation. Some art btw has husk tricked into a kiss. Cute, we’re really starting to like blurring consent aint we? Remember, Angel has celeb power in his world. In the real world, he has a following. HE has the power in the ship massively. Hell, fans JUSTIFY Angels behaviour and absolutely rip Husk a new shithole if he fuckin even so as to DARE OPPOSE ANGELS MUCH DESERVED LOVE! - sarcasm because I have to make that shit clear now. Fans dont care about Husks feelings, he wasnt even popular until this ship started to explode. Y’know what would be cool and break stereotypes? An old straight white guy actually accepting his friends sexualities. The pan thing feels really fucking gimicky and exploitive and gross based on the history of all this shit. It feels disingenuine. Representation doesnt come from it just being there. What next? Katie whips on blackface to further show shes a bigoted knobhead whos white and straight? Dont get me wrong, Katie’s an arsehole but theres other means to show this rather than ALL HETS HATE THE BIG GAE. They dont. They really dont. But hey, we’ll show a gay man sexually harass every guy and root for him! NO. Thats fucked up. It makes gays look like the predators theyre not. It’s like the fucking 50s with modern tech - is that the real identity of Vox? Fuckin maybe. WHAT THEY NEED - FUCKING FINALLY, ITS THE END IVE BEEN ON THIS SHIT FOR DAYS WHILST SICK LUCKY ME EH? CAN YER FEEEEEEEL MY TIREDNESS OF FANDOMS AND CREATORS EXCUSING SHITTY THINGS FOR CLOUT, MONEY, FAME AND OTHER DUMB SHIT? IF YOU CANT, THEN WHAT THE FUCK, AND OTHER NEWS: Right. Lets get our main shit. Compatibility between the pair is really low - lower than even the team seems to see. And yer old fart of a Hag here’s gotta use my personal suffering as an example because thats what the cool kids do, right? Their friendship compatibility is high. VERY high. But low for love. HEALTHY love. In terms of convo flow, it only has a river when insults are flying, otherwise Husk actively cuts Angel short or outright annoys him. In reality, someone like Husk would gross out Angel, but the cute cat look can turn that the fuck around - JUST the look. Fans and the team oddly think it’s cute though. Yes, I remember being negged at the bar and thinking “BOY arent my pants flooded like the fuckin planet when the ice caps are melting”. There’s no click. Theres infatuation and lust one sided based on looks. Husk isnt even remotely interested and no means delayed yes apparently. Angel as a rape VICTIM should know better than to blur consent like this. Angel isnt a rapist [for the skim reading raging stans ANGELS NOT A RAPIST, YAAAAAY!] but he sure has a shit grip on when he’s looking like Val when Val forced Angel into a kiss by not accepting rejection. It’s. CREEPY. Its fuckin weird. Husk is literally named after being a shell of his former self, I doubt random sex and forced interest is gonna make him spring to life like bastard Zeberdy from the Magic Pissin Roundabout. Honestly, sexual harassment and addictions are treated the same in this - a joke. A punchline. A gag. Sure makes me fuckin gag. Nah, the more healthier Chaggie relationship (needs work on Charlies damn part - dont let freaky taxidermy men sexually assault your life partner like that) is booooring, lets focus on sexual harassment leading to true love like all the other shitty romcoms shall we? Or sugar coat it with ‘getting to know them better <3′ like Beauty and the Beast. A story, by yours truly: My mom’s mates with this woman. Lets call her M because her name starts with an M. M is just like Angel except slightly older, overweight and disabled - so not everyones cup of tea visually (shes neither here nor there to me imo, not like I hold interest in shaggin her). Like Angel, she fuckin flirts with any ANY man around her. She’ll even touch without consent, rub allllll up and down their backs and bodies, and not leave them alone. She even did this with a few gay men. Shes not a horrible person BUT mom and I are constantly trying to stop her and get through her head how DISGUSTING this treatment is. But nothing gets the message across. Shes ALWAYS talking men and sex and has an on/off fling with this one bloke (dont worry, hes the male M, cheats and does the same as her). Everyone, even women, are uncomfortable with this. Irl it’s desperate and a HUGE repellent. Men are visibly SO uncomfortable. She does it to my father too who is - in case youd forgotten - MARRIED TO HER BEST. FUCKING. FRIEND. My father is not a man of fear (and interestingly, hes one of the real life Huskers I know!) but this woman? *insert Heavy bc why tf not* She scares him. My dad does everything in his damn power to pull away, reject, resist, avoid and cut her off. The only reason hes even nice to her at all is because mom likes her (when M isnt a gross hornbag, shes genuinely a good friend to my mother - much like angel and Cherri). My dad’s strictly banned from insulting her or telling her to fuck off from my mother BECAUSE of her nature with him. Even at her non horny times, he’s even said shes not his flavour.  I’ve had numerous accounts like this myself (ask any woman-) but the worst was the guy thinking - THINKING - that Id eventually be his whilst he played up a lot of our similarities up, seemed nice and I actually thought I had a good guy friend (put it this way, Im genuinely scared of men because of guys like this). At this time, there was a character I discovered who looks and behaves SO much like me, and shes married. My simping arse for this fictional BEAUT [Im sorry but Iris is fucking awesome] compared her romantic traits towards Olgerd as something Id do - and this was a STATUS. It wasnt even too him, tagging him, nothing. I was just spamming Iris like the Iris whore I am, and... Yep. Ill be honest and say that God only knows what else I did that made him think I was ready to rip off my clothes and shag him. My post history back then showed Im like this when I find a character I relate to. I also send hearts a lot publicly and to friends to express joy - I get NERVOUS how that’ll be taken now. He tried to pit my ex friend and I against each other for him and even cyberstalked us pretending to be a girl named Raven. My GUT told me this aint no bastard ‘Raven’. The vibes he gave me, and the fact when I kept saying no he took it as a delayed yes (He even said “Ill wait for when youre ready” not “I understand and am happy to still be friends”) gave me literal nightmares of this guy tracking me down and raping me. He’s currently dating that ex friend (I was still willing to be their friend and support them but they said it was hard to keep us separate in her lifes and she didnt want conflict, so I cut it off amicably with her and I fuckin hope he treats her right. I even sensed in my gut she’d like him and he’d like her - even that theyd be good together! But then I found she was 17 and he was 10 years older, that he was cyberstalking and pitting us against each other, that he was secretly an arrogant fuck and that he gives off red flags like her ex’s - but shes passed 18 now and I want to trust her as an adult that she can deal with this. Shes got a good family.) As a kid, Ive been fuckin groped at school in my shitty neighbourhood. One kid even harassed me wanting to know if Id started my periods yet. Hed constantly fondle girls and ‘keg’ them aka yank down their skirts or trousers in public, and 2 years later held a fucking KNIFE to my throat in a classroom with the shittiest substitute teacher, all because I stood up to him (I was not known for my bravery at school so). He was harassing my female friend who suffers from it since as well as her upbringing, bullying her and stealing her stuff. Shes TINY. She was bullied just as bad as I - who was somehow both the school ghost AND pariah somehow- - and I stepped in and told him to cut that shit out before snatching her things back. I told her to ignore the desperate prick. Thats when he took a boxcutter and held it to my throat, threatening me to keep my head down. Now my neighbourhood fucking qualifies as the British ‘hood’ but Id been lucky to avoid this. Ironically, I wondered what this situation would be like a year prior. Im convinced I can fucking foresee bad shit now and with anxiety that aint good. I froze mentally and I just said “Wooow, Im fucking scared- *friends name*, ignore him” and continued my work. I fucking mentally kicked myself for speaking but I genuinely didnt know what to do. Obviously not fucking that. He sat the full TWO HOURS at our table with this knife, jolting forward mockingly and switching who he pointed it at. The knife btw was from that very room as it was graphics and art. Teacher didnt even notice though honestly Ive had an entire class throw shit at me and call me a whore and the teacher in that class looked at me and TURNED AWAY. End of the day, I reported it to my actual graphics teacher when he returned and he told me he’d take this higher up and to get my parents. My home was only 5 minutes away but I had to walk alone when most the students were gone AND through a fucking alleyway. I always walked with my head low but that day I kept it high and tried to look brave because I genuinely thought he was waiting for me. That he was going to rape and kill me because he’s a pervert and Id just discovered a fucking violent one at that. I broke down at my door. Do you know how fuckin hard it is to look your parents who are dealing with two cancer patients and other issues in the eyes and tell them their ‘little girl’ had a knife to her through for standing up for herself? We went back, I described everything and even remember the yellow-orange handle just to get this kid punished? I even wrote an official police statement (well, the written witness account they add to their statement and evidence) and had to speak on mine and my friend’s behalf because she was that shook up. I never even used to speak for myself! He got expelled, but yknow what us jolly folk dealt with? Hearing kids and his mates mumbling about the ‘rat’ and how much of a cunt they were. Teachers and kids praise him for his art skills and even pin them on display EVERYWHERE (one - ONE - was a fucking self portrait and none of the staff seemed to find issue in that) and even an occassion where he came back into the school when he legally wasnt (trespassing). Do you know how hard it is to fucking avoid someone without raising suspicions from everyone around you in a narrow corridor? Im TALL too. I got NO support from this and felt on edge because he could easily sneak into school. I couldnt say shit because his stupid ‘spies’ were about. Just typing this is upsetting enough- I also know a rl Angel who’s like him minus the sexual harassment. She’s... I never used to like her and visa versa but we actually get along really well now, even though she can be creepy and perverse- But she wouldnt be my type either nor I with her. Often we really fuck each other off but we can also bond great. Another incident reminds me of Husk’s candid photo. Ive had people keep my photo despite me saying not to however I had someone SOMEHOW at that school one the fuck up that. There was a cut out from a magazine of a lady who looked like my DOUBLE except she was asian. Now I thought this was cool and it made me feel sorta pretty. This one girl showed everyone and the teacher, pretty much everyone was like “Oh shit that really is you, C!” and it was harmless fun at first. Until I wanted the picture. Again, this woman looked EXACTLY like me. Yet this girl refused and said she wanted to keep it and even carried it around in her pencil case. Yes it wasnt me but due to the similarities, this photo was called me (tbf the fuckin pic got more respect than I did-). This isnt the only creepy instant between me and this girl but the photo reminds me of it. And this tops people keeping photos OF me which happened in primary school. This was me but legal at that time. And asain. It was super fucking neckbeardy the way she treated this photo and stared, often stroking it and looking at me. I just hope she was only trying to scare me. Theres one final instance of a sexual assault but Im just not yet ready to be public about it. 2 here already know. Those are some of my rl experiences and more to come (unfortunately) that show these behaviours in real life. It seems - it comes across - that sexual harassment, MORE SO TOWARDS MEN, is seen as some punchline and not something legitimately horrifying or dangerous. It’s not cute. It’s fucking FAR from it.  Ive already mentioned how putting two addicts together can lead to relapsing, dependence on each other in an unhealthy way. And Ive even mentioned what Angel needs in a relationship in the RD post. Luckily for you, I’ll copy and paste it here: “ We need to think about where both are mentally. What benefits would a relationship give both? How would they be good and bad for each other? For Al, aside from his outdated views and being a fucking murderer and narcissist, he actually seems in a good mindspace for a relationship IF he opted to be in one. Angel however has a very immature mindset, likewise is in a phase of life where hes bed hopping. IF he were to be in a relationship, I’d say he needs a male equivalent of Cherri - someone with a similar mindset yet some differences, willing to have fun and in touch with their younger side, down to cuddle, open to share and receive love as well as not afraid to publicly be affectionate with him, someone who sees him as more than just for sex, someone fun, someone who’ll let him embrace his cutesy side publicly without shame - Cherri is younger so maybe someone who’s his age or slightly younger perhaps? I think Angel’s not retirement home ready to settle and needs someone on his level that can cuddle and chill as well as feels free and youthful enough to go wild with him. In one sense, he’s got a teen girl sorta mindset (dont put him with a teen though, it’s fuckin weird-). He needs someone positive and raw, someone to let him be himself as well as someone comfortable to be themselves around him. He has a habit of latching onto unobtainable men (in psychology, this is self sabotaging subconsciously): Travis the client, Val a pimp, Husk (emotionally unavailable and needs HEAVY self work - interestingly far more than Angel - plus he’s still onto his last relationship and an addict to gambling and alcohol), Pent who’s the enemy he was currently fighting (inappropriate timing), Alastor who’s not interested in another but his own needs [selfish, VERY bad for a relationship]. Subconsciously he’s self sabotaging on purpose. There’s many psychology books as well as sources online for this, if you’re interested. Either way, Angel is drawn to men either like his father [who dislike him, shun him, or are otherwise cold, abusive or just blatantly dislike or otherwise dont care about him] or anyone with money to fuel his drug addiction/’debt’ to Val. Going with any of these men isn’t a good idea. Preferably, Angel needs someone who he doesnt immediately crush and obsess over. Someone who he doesnt sexually harass or assault. Someone he can build a connection with quickly that can bud into romance (think how Chaggie started as a friendship which clicked immediately). Maybe even someone he doesn’t expect to fall for but does so anyways. It would be more realistic as Viv wants as well as more healthy. That for once he isnt sex or money craved instantly, thus doesnt sexually harass/assault and is given a proper chance to develop and grow a friendship and love. Someone who isnt an addict. Someone with an on-par mindset where they click. Someone open to love. For any chance of a good relationship, Angel needs to be with anyone BUT who we’ve already seen. There’s too much toxicity that’ll be swept under the rug and justified otherwise. Too much shit to fuel homophobes in terms of gay stereotypes. Even though Ive focused a fair bit on Angel, it’s NOT just about Angel. That’s something fans forget. Some he depends on or someone who depends on him in the long term wont last and will be very dangerous to both. Just because you suffer, you dont then deserve to be rewarded with ‘something nice’. You dont get to have everything youve ever wanted. Giving him any of these blokes [minus Val] gives him a pass. Gives him what he wants. I get Viv loves him but life doesnt work that way. True lasting growth comes from learning that. Acceptance and growth. You dont get everything you want and sometimes thats a GOOD thing. He’s not a spoilt kid who gets everything he asks for, he’s YOUR creation. If you really wanted what your creations deserve then you need to research and be realistic with it. Because hes starting to feel like a shitty Gary-Stu at this rate.” Sorry for that copypaste clusterfuck. Copy paste is not my forte lol Now Husk. Remember Big? Probably not after the info overload, but if you do GREAT. Big needed love, patience, understanding, someone who could help him, someone who understood and respected his boundaries. I spent so much damn time and now he cuddles up and exposes his tummy because I make him feel understood, loved and safe. He NEVER purred or meowed (why would he need to meow when he didnt speak to humans?) but now he does. He lives on the streets of a neighbourhood with rough folk. He used to draw blood and go rabid on my arms. But I was patient and showed him that I understood his reasons but that he was safe with me and had no need to strike out. I never pushed his boundaries let alone doing it multiple times (the rl angel I know is fucking skilled at pushing cat’s boundaries and wonders why they all huddle up to me and avoid her lol). Husk is an unavailable man. Romantic/Sexual love does NOT heal his wounds. But thats the only thought fans and the team have given on his side. He needs love to ‘fix’ him. The WORST reason to get with someone. Theyre not a project and you arent a fucking miracle worker. Treat them as an equal. He needs a good friend. JUST a friend. Like Big, he needs patience, trust, understanding, and extensive help (arguably more intense than Angel’s). He needs to love himself a bit more FIRST. Someone who respects his boundaries INSTANTLY. Someone relatable and similar, open to love not just sex and not as troubled (if they are, they need to handle it way better, healthily and overall be in a good mindspace). Viv can ship whatever the fuck tickles her fancy, but once your passion project becomes public and funded, you have set responsibilities on how to address and handle sensitive issues as well as having to accept criticism. If Husk goes sober in the name of love (ESPECIALLY with the guy not respecting his boundaries and sexually harassing him), then it’s a fucking INSULT to alcoholics.  I know a few rl Husks but there’s one that anyone who knows me enough knows the man I hold closest to my heart was an alcoholic and spitting of Husk. That’s why Husk’s character means so much to me. But there’s only 2 here who know a bit more of this man. This is something Id hoped to not share so soon, nor as messy. And Im already getting waterworks because this is FAR from easy. I guess Husk became the very thing *I* needed in order to face this. This man was my grandfather. WAS. I cant even fucking accept that. I was a fucking child. I feel stupid being so open about this over some stupid cartoon but it just shows the real life effects this has on REAL fucking people. This man was old and lonely. Always at the pubs. He taught me card games, card tricks and card magic as well as one of his own sons dealing with a gambling addiction. I feel so fucking stupid crying about this- I dont want to open up but its the only way I feel I can get people to understand my side in all of this. This man was a fucking MESS. A closed off, lonely, grumpy old bastard. He lost his love because of his alcohol addiction and never found love again. Never got over that woman. (Shes still kicking and we’re close - im keeping some things under wraps between them as its not my place). Gave up on life and love. Worked hard at his fixation on cards and puzzles, as well as crass jokes and knowledge. But he was very lazy otherwise. Bitter and angry. And you know what? He was my world. I love this man with every fiber of my being because he was the first person to love and accept me for me. He treated me as an equal and helped me grow as a person. In fact... He was only ever happy around us kids. He had hope again. Protected me. He used to hate gays and blacks and you know what? He taught HIMSELF as to why that was shitty thinking. He taught ME about differences in people and to accept it. He taught me that you dont always have to understand to accept. He taught me poker and... swears admittedly. He was a beautiful soul that was broken inside. He needed to love himself. But you know what actually fucking happened? You know what I watched as a kid? I watched as he smoked until every morning he woke throwing up phlegm just to BREATHE. I watched as sometimes the light in his eyes died and through smoke breaks and early drinking how he’d sometimes slip and show me his pain. And we’d have deep talks about it and the world and everything. How alcohol ruined his life yet he craved it. His scent. I remember arguments I wasnt supposed to overhear and growing up seeing him fucking DIE slowly in a hospital bed. The man he was ended up as a fucking husk. His skin was bloated and purple, he was half machine on how much shit he was hooked up to. How he was barely a man at all. He was dying of cancer and he fucking knew and never told us. His cancer meds gave him horrid hallucinations. And I practically spent most of my time in that hospital because TWO people had cancer. Two stunning people had fucking stupid bastard cancer. He was a fuck up. He was flawed to shit. But seeing glimpses of the real him was a fucking ethereal experience. He made me feel like a PERSON. And all we could do in the end was watch him just die. He WANTED to die and you could see it but hed only eat around us to fake fight out of his own hubris and not wanting to let us down. That year, I watched 2 of the only people who ever gave a shit about me die the most dishonourable deaths God could have gave them. Years prior I watched his son gamble EVERYTHING away - his lover, his house, his everything. Hes a moderate gambler now with a partner who never had a history of any addiction. She helps keep him in line as he helps her. But most nights I fucking dream of this shit. I cant even think about my hero because I fucking weep. I still have nightmares. Im still up thinking how I could have saved him from himself when it’s him who was the only one able to. I have to live my life with those memories and I was just a kid. Im a full woman and Im still haunted by it. Even that year is blasphemy and I fucking hate it. I want to take him in my arms, hold him and tell him he’s enough. That its ok and he can get through this. Anything that reminds me of him, I love because I know the other side. The real side. The side not tethered to vices. When I see people like that, I pray they see themselves like that too and I want to help them see it. Tell them that they can live again. It’s better than fucking decaying in a hospital bed. That when people make this sorta shit into a cute quirk it’s not. And it’s dickheads like me who have actually seen it play in the real world to REAL people they love. They arent a fucking accessory to fix for your own narrative. They arent a fuckin performing monkey. At least with Rick and Morty it’s kinda humorous and never played for some shitty toxic ship to appeal to everyone who’s never had to face that shit themselves. And Im like my old man but with more hope and no addiction. I drink and I gamble but I’ll never let myself get that low. Because I honour him but Im not as fucking saft. I wont allow it even though it’s a fucking battle. Those addictions are in the blood. My family history. Its always been so fucking normal. I’ll never knock someone for an addiction or try to preach them out of it because theres often pain fueling it, but I’d never encourage it or toxic faux cures and stupid romance promises as some bullshit MLM remedy either. I KNOW it’s fiction but I want people to see the real side. I want VIV to see the real side. Id willingly for FREE fucking sing that shit if it meant spreading a good message. Because this is fucking hell. FIXING IT: The ship’s basis is too set in stone now - too familiar to change. Best is to never let it be canon. Because you know what else it teaches? That rOmAnCe cures all. Not therapy. Not rehab. Not any REAL work. Just fuck and date it all away as if it’s that easy. It’s a mockery! I tried to be professional about this but when the media bombards this shit constantly, the has the AUDACITY to play like it’s giving a good message is salt to the wounds. A kiss with a fist. An old man dont care for the petty teen drama that Angel and Cherri (even fuckin Al) thrive on. Want this to send a good message still? Angel hates rejection and thinks everyone wants him. Have Husk reject him. Especially because no one should go out with someone whos sexually harassed them there. Been there, done that got the fuckin tshirt. Have Husk reject Angel the way Gravity Falls has Wendy reject Dipper. It helped Dipper move on and mature, and this is what Angel needs for growth and to be more humble.  Husk would be a fucking excellent mentor to Angel, a friend and protector, someone who shows him the ropes like Grunkle Stan like a grandfather figure. To not fall for his mistakes. Husk would be a better expert than any of them plus it balances the power dynamtic. It’s healthy and realistic. Touches the topic with the sensitivity it needs. Not everything needs a ship or romance. Wounds healed that way dont stay healed long. Angel seems more fitting as a son like figure, and he can play that dad like role for him. And if any of the team EVER saw this, fucking take this idea. Its YOURS. FREE. FOREVER. If we wanna play this NDA but still reblog some of the story telling arts and have some of our team indulge in it. I wont sue. Fucking TAKE IT if it means doing this shit right because Spindlehorse have beautifully triggered so many different people and their different traumas to please teenagers sexual fantasies, their own kinks and for a jolly good joke.  This is a bastard long read and Ive had to face the traumas again but if good can come from it then I’ll GLADLY dance this duet again. Stans, Antis, dont even TEMPT interaction. You arent brave sending suicide threats behind a screen, youre a coward and a waste of oxygen. I WANT Hazbin and Helluva to succeed. I want Viv and her crew to do well. Trust me, I wouldnt waste my time if I didnt give a shit. Viv is fucking gifted and its being wasted if it’s not at her full potential for the approval of a rabid army of kids and immature adults who dont know any better (stans and antis). I know she would like a good and decent fanbase. Stans and antis arent it. Tagging you folks because it’s long but yall actually helped me have the courage to open my trap to this. Screenshots are coming later though all of what Ive said is easily sourced. But this has been days, Im sick, im tired, ive been upset facing my own traumas. If any tags wanna help then by all means but otherwise. @honesthazbinarchives, @siaesnow​ (also added age still bc despite the lack of physical aging, theres also the mental aspect and experiences as well as power dynamics side to it, in case youre wondering), @noirellearts, @enchantedchocolatebars​, @galemalio​ (thank you for letting me weep like a bitch), @angel-blitz​, @critical-hazbin​, @what-the-hazbin​, @hazboobhotel​, @pineapple-critiques-stuff​, @devils-advocutie​, SORRY AGAIN FOR BEING A LIL BITCH FOLKS, I feel awkward like my teen years but yeah- fuck it Im old and imma rot soon anyways. If this experience can help then Ill be glad.

[iceeckos12]

tma fic recs

I’ve seen a couple of fic rec posts floating around. since ive been reading so many excellent fic recently, i thought that id make one as well! please note this list is going to be 99% jonmartin. also buckle up, because this is going to get long.

Completed

the umbrella by Wildehack (tyleet)

"And to think—all of Jonah Magnus’ carefully laid plans, the centuries of scheming, the murders, the sacrifices, all of that work could have been completely undone if Martin Blackwood had gone back for an umbrella" - holdthosebees

Notes: This is probably my go-to fic if i want an apocalypse never happened scenario. The jonmartin is wonderful, as is the h/c.

Diary and Prenon-nous la main by luftballoons99

Diary summary:

Not for the first time since they ran away together, a camera reel of all the things they don't know about one another whirs behind Martin's eyes, and he can't help but look at all the sprawling magnetic tape and wonder if they’re going to wind up a romance or a tragedy.

or: Office parties, garage bands, and the joy of being known.

Prenon-nous la main summary:

They still haven't talked about it, any of it, not even to pass the time on the long train ride to Scotland. Instead, Martin fell asleep in the seat next to him, pressed into his side from shoulder to knee, and Jon thought about love confessions and verb tense and how the two fit together when you think you're dying.

or: Good cows, mediocre poetry, and other crucial topics of discussion.

Notes: Do you love impeccable safehouse jonmartin characterization? do you love characters grappling with the mortifying ordeal of being known? do you love softness so tender that it makes you want to weep? please read these fic. im begging you.

i’ll tell you about all the times i’ve smiled because of you by cryptidkidprem

Summary:

Martin thinks about their shoes, sitting beside each other on the floor by the bed. Thinks of the way Jon wears Martin’s cardigans more often than he wears his own, the way Martin’s started keeping elastics around his wrist because Jon always forgets his own when they go out.

He thinks about all the gentle touches and fussing over each other they’ve done, and how much is still to come over the next… however long Jon will have him.

They have a long way to go, an entire life to build out of the wreckage Jonah Magnus and Peter Lukas left them, but laying together in a comfortable, sleepy quiet, Martin thinks they’ve got a good start going.

Or, Jon quits the Institute, saves the world, and it turns out to be exactly what he needs in order to heal and start moving forward towards building a life with Martin.

Notes: how many times have i reread this fic? more than i can count. jon quits the institute and it’s just full of soft jonmartins. they get married! god i love them.

go softly by doomcountry

Summary:

And there is nothing else besides this.

Notes: every time i remember this fic i reread it. please heed the tags because martin is blinding jon, but he’s like. blinding jon in the most heartbreaking way possible. idk how the author made this so tender but i know i was certainly crying so!

The Reverb in These Holy Halls by  Wolftraps (AlwaysBoth)

Summary:

Undoing the apocalypse would have been enough for Jon, if all his people survived. Without them, Jon's only recourse is making it so it never happened in the first place. He's going to do better this time.

Notes: Do you like time travel fixits? i sure like time travel fixits. reverb is an excellent one. heavy on the h/c, I wanted to hug jon so so badly. 

Yesterday is Here by  CirrusGrey

Summary:

"Who the hell are you?" Jon could feel his hands shaking. The man laughed, taking a step forward and raising a hand to point at him. "I'm you, from the future!" he said, then swayed, eyes going unfocused, and collapsed to the floor in a dead faint. -------- Post-season-four Jon and Martin time travel back to the season one Archives.

Notes: Yet another time travel fixit! also excellent. the teasing was HYSTERICAL. also Im just going to say this now - CirrusGrey in general writes incredible tma fic. You can’t really go wrong.

unassigned supplementals by  bibliocratic 

Notes: I won’t put in a summary just because it’s a long series of oneshots, but bibliocratic’s writing is amazing. Again, you can’t really go wrong with one of their fic!

let the soft animal of your body by autoclaves

Summary:

Standing in the warm kitchen, slats of sepia light filtering through onto the counter in front of him, Martin doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He half expects them to go through the countertop entirely, glossy and solid as it is. He isn’t used to any of it, yet. The safehouse. Jon. Beams of sun pouring into his hands. After being deprived of everything of significance for so long, the longing that crashes over him is almost painful in its tangibility. He wants to laugh, to sob, to scream and hear it echoed back against the neat, square walls of the safehouse.

In the end, he doesn’t do any of these things. He makes eggs instead. He can do that, can’t he? Use his hands for something simple and plain and good.

(Or: In the safehouse after it all, Martin starts cooking.)

Notes: this fic really speaks to me a) because i project on martin like crazy and b) because food is also my love language. this fic is incredibly soft and it’s all about cooking!

“Have you tried turning it on and off again?” by shinyopals

Summary:

I hope you find your new role as Head of the Institute as rewarding as captaining the Tundra, wrote Elias Bouchard, to Peter Lukas. There are so many people working there: all with their own interesting lives, and all desiring your attention and support. I'm sure you will relish the challenge it will bring and enjoy every moment spent with the fine men and women of the Institute. In time I'm confident they'll become like a family to you.

The Magnus Institute has a new boss. The Magnus Institute also has a new tech support technician. These two facts are unrelated, except they both happen at the same time.

Meanwhile Jon's woken up from being dead for six months and for once he's trying his best. He just wishes Martin would stop avoiding him and answer his messages...

Notes: if you’re looking for a good laugh, this fic is SO SO SO FUNNY. i was dying. basically the magnus institute being an absolute bureaucratic nightmare.

hello my old heart  by  firebirdsuite

Summary:

Peter’s wrong, of course. When it’s all over, Martin does still want to tell Jon everything. It’s just—well, there’s a few things they need to work through first before they can get there.

Martin and Jon find each other again in Scotland.

Notes: it’s all about the yearning. and trust me, the yearning in this fic? im just. i sure do love jonmartin, and this is such soft, loving jonmartin it just makes you want to cry

two ships passing by pyrites

Summary:

Gerard Keay is 10 years old the very first time he tries to run away from home, right around the time that Jonathan Sims has just come into possession of his first Leitner.

Or: One dropped stone can change the way the whole ocean moves.

Notes: again, JONGERRY. MY GOODNESS. this fic is beautiful, the writing is absolutely breathtaking and it owns my heart. im so in love with it. the author said you’re going to have emotions about jon and gerry and jongerry and i said OKAY

Terminal Sight by viv_is_spooky

Summary:

Spider silk weaves through the visions of two Seers. Monstrosity is dawning on them both.

Notes: I’d never read a gerryoliver fic before this, but the execution is EXCELLENT and now im sold on the ship forever. This fic has wonderful prose and great characterization and i love it a whole lot.

Incomplete

assistant archivist au by  PitViperOfDoom

Notes: I won’t put a summary since I’m reccing an entire series, but. it is absolutely no secret that i adore jongerry. pit’s assistant archivist au slapped me over the head with some gorgeous jongerry oneshots and then gave me the gift of the main fic (which is still in progress) about head archivist martin. i love this au so so much

dustsceawung by  callmearcturus

Summary:

Martin had always been favored by the summer courts, and moving up north to the little village of Lacuna is a difficult adjustment. It's rainy and lonely and everyone seems to have a strange, distant relationship with the local faerie court.

However: there is a strange man in a cloak who walks past Martin's remote little cottage every few days.

However: there is a moth that keeps getting stuck in Martin's house during the rain.

These events are not as disconnected as they first appear.

Notes: you ever just read a fic that you didn’t know that you needed until after you read it? yeah. featuring the fae and moth jon and excellent characterization.

Illicio by ThatOneGirlBehindYou

As the new Archivist debates between life and death, the Eye ponders on what to offer him in order to avoid an encore of the unfortunate situation with his predecessor.

-----

Gerard Keay opens his eyes at what feels like fuck-ass in the morning, inside a room with far too little space and far too much dust.

Notes: This is also the moment where I reveal that im a sucker for jongerrymartin. please read this fic. gerry is brought back from the dead in s4 and everyone is far better off for it.

where there’s a will, we make a way by bubonickitten

Summary:

"So, what does happen if an Eye learns to See within itself?

What happens is this: the Archive Beholds the Watcher – and the Watcher blinks first."

________________________

Jon goes back to before the world ended and tries to forge a different path.

Notes: this time travel fixit is shaping up to be an absolutely incredible read. i love the way this author writes jon so so much, and the characterization is spot on. this whole fic just satisfies some little part of me. god. also!! bubonickitten’s writing in general? beautiful. please check out their other works.

The Timeline of Theseus by Applea

Jon tries to force the Spiral to send him back, but the Sprial's corridors never twist things quite the way you want them to. Back in 1996, Elias has no idea why or how the Eye made such a powerful Avatar out of an 8 year old, especially when said 8 year old doesn't actually know he has any powers at all. Clearly such a child cannot be left outside the Institute's care. 

Notes: This fic is legitimately brilliant. The author manages to capture the big ADHD mood and the precociousness of baby Jon while managing to write a wonderful storyline. Time travel! Elderly lesbians! A Jonah who is wildly in over his head but was walloped over the head with paternal instinct! Baby Gerry! What more could you possibly ask for?

rooms full of people who do not love each other yet by seaer

Summary:

“Wanted to ask about a book.” The boy has his hand on the counter, and he leans into it, nonchalant. The library is air-conditioned, but by no means frigid, and Jon can’t help but feel sweaty just looking at the layers he’s wearing; what looks like old leather over an olive-green Magnus pullover over his school shirt. “Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Jon says, tetchily, “We’re about to close.”

“I know. Do you have A Journal of the Plague Year?”

Notes: I am so in love with this author’s writing style and the way they write the characters!! The jon and gerry friendship is PERFECT and the character interactions are all darling.

if you read these fics please send the authors some love, they definitely deserve it!!