#just in case but like this was 3 episodes ago

[nowimjustastranger]

Asked about SCMO again lol

Have you seen an AU called Artificial memories? I can summarize it like this, it's an AU where Fidds decides to erase Stanley's memories and make him believe he is Stanford

I saw this on Twitter a while ago and now that I've remembered it again I'd like to know what you think and how SCMO! Ford might react to that situation

Anyway, in case you haven't seen that AU, I'll leave you the Twitter link here (I don't know if the artist has Tumblr, sorry)

https://x.com/FregnerLy/status/1834413233391718623?t=llwIkZaT4ZzeBoIeiZqgqA&s=19

Oh, yeah! I've seen that AU, it's such an interesting and tragic concept!

In this case, Ford would reverse engineer his own memory gun to return Stan's memories to him. But first, he would straight up kidnap Stan, bringing him to one on his safehouses in the multiverse to chill until Ford could get the gun ready. It's not perfect because Fiddleford's gun did a lot of damage and the mind is a fickle thing, so there would still be times where Stan thought himself to be Stanford. Thankfully, the episodes would be short and wouldn't cause any additional damage to his neural pathways.

Next on the agenda would be dealing with Fiddleford, and Ford understands that he's a broken man, but that by no means excuses what he did to Stan. Ford threaten him into leaving and never coming back lest Ford use the memory gun to reduce him to the Old Man McGucket mindset, or just outright kill him. Ford tells Fiddleford he leaning more toward the latter of the two.

Finally, with Stan recovering from the mind-fuckery that he'd been subjected to, Ford would work on the portal, looking into the future of this dimension's Ford to figure out which dimension he'd be in next, then programs the portal to lock onto that dimension instead. Once he collects the fuel for the portal, he fires it up. And, as soon as the Ford steps out, Ford 419"3 punches him.

Cue a vicious scolding from Ford 419"3, verbally tearing into Ford for ignoring every possible warning sign and putting Stan in danger. Ford 419"3 would hurl a device that looked like a hockey puck at Ford, which would project a hologram of what had happened between Fiddleford and Stan.

[all-pacas]

a list of all the times foreman and chase actively shaded one another in s1-3, because i think it's very funny,

histories:

PATIENT: [Foreman] doesn't like me. I can tell. CHASE: That's okay. He doesn't like me, either.

sports medicine:

CHASE: House says you were lying. I believe him. FOREMAN: …What’s that? You got a little wet smudge at the end of your nose!

control:

CAMERON [to Chase]: He’s not gonna fire you. FOREMAN: I’d fire you. Bye bye. CHASE: If I screw up, the patient dies… I’ll never get another job. FOREMAN: So go stick your head between your legs and lick your wounds in Gstaad.

mob rules:

CAMERON: Chase has a big mouth. FOREMAN: Yeah. He's probably the one who ratted to Vogler. [of note: Chase did obviously rat to Vogler, but Cameron spends these same episodes defending him and sure he isn't the rat; Foreman immediately jumps to "fire Chase"]

heavy:

PATIENT: I’m thirsty. CAMERON: Just a little bit longer [with this procedure], and you’ll be done. FOREMAN: Like Dr. Chase.

[later, House asks who Foreman would fire:]

FOREMAN: Chase. HOUSE: What — because he screwed up an angio a month ago? FOREMAN: Anyone can make a mistake. HOUSE: Right, it’s the money. You resent it, but you’re going to tell me he doesn’t need the job. FOREMAN: He doesn’t appreciate the job. HOUSE: He was ready to go three rounds with Cameron for it. FOREMAN: He wants the job. He just doesn’t appreciate it. There’s nothing wrong with just wanting to hang out, but this is not the place to do it.

babies and bathwater:

FOREMAN: [under his breath] Here, pussy, pussy, pussy. CHASE: I didn’t do anything. FOREMAN: Exactly my point. CHASE: You wanted me to yell at him? What the hell would that have achieved? What, is he going to jump into his time machine and fix everything? FOREMAN: When a dog dumps on the floor, do you pat its head and call it a genius? No, you smack it in the nose with a newspaper! CHASE: Dogs can learn things, House can’t. FOREMAN: Coward. CHASE: Child.

acceptance:

FOREMAN: If someone asks you to describe me to them, what’s the first thing you’d tell them? CHASE: Insecure.

tb or not tb:

CAMERON: I wrote your people a check last month. PATIENT: Oh, well… write us another one. FOREMAN: Talk to Chase, he’s rich. CHASE: My dad, not me. [i think offering chase's money to a stranger counts as shade]

the mistake:

STACY: Why did Chase screw up? FOREMAN: Because he doesn't give a crap about patients. STACY: He always gets positive patient reviews. FOREMAN: Yeah. He smiles all 84 of his teeth, tells them his tonsil story. STACY: It's a nice story. FOREMAN: He still has his tonsils! As soon as he's out of the room, which is as soon as he can be out of the room, he starts in on the trash talk. Thinks not giving a crap makes him like House. Like it’s something to aspire to. Am I going to have to testify? STACY: I… won't be encouraging them to call you.

failure to communicate:

CHASE: Even if he fell, drug use is far more likely. I’m ordering a tox screen. FOREMAN: Chase, we're not done with the differential. CHASE: You're not my boss. FOREMAN: I'm House's boss, House is your boss. The math is pretty simple. CHASE: Are you signing my paychecks? Are you hiring or firing? FOREMAN: This is not about that. CHASE: The only thing you've been asked to do is supervise House in case he does something insane.

distractions:

FOREMAN: Plug it in. CHASE: You plug it in. FOREMAN: Fine, give me the cord. [under his breath:] Wuss.

who's your daddy?

[during a procedure] HOUSE: Chase, high right atrium, please. CHASE: Her heart’s fragile after that last attack. The chances of tachycardia – HOUSE: You have my permission to blame Foreman at any negligence trial. [chase does as he's told]

cane and able:

CHASE: How could I screw up a simple bleeding time test? FOREMAN: Maybe you were abducted; lost time. [later:] HOUSE: So you’re saying Chase did screw up. CHASE: Or Foreman screwed up. FOREMAN: Big hand points to minutes. Maybe you got them mixed up? [later:] CHASE: We’ve had three results that haven’t been consistent. One of them must be wrong. FOREMAN: Or two of them.

fools for love:

[house is trying to bet foreman on wilson's new girlfriend. foreman hasn't accepted the bet:]

HOUSE: We could spend all day arguing whether we bet or not. Give me the hundred bucks. CHASE: Come on Foreman, pay up. He won! Or we could just never finished the DDX.

[later:]

HOUSE: Aha! Brochure to a jazz festival in the Poconos this weekend. CHASE: Wilson likes jazz. Foreman, pay the man.

[later:] CHASE: If [the patients] can live here without killing each other, they must really be in love. It’s tiny. FOREMAN: Then how come it’s taking you so long to search it? CHASE: Box of condoms in his jacket. FOREMAN: I know you’re poor now, but buy your own.

[later:]

CHASE: Hey, Foreman, can you wear the beeper for a couple hours this weekend? [off his look:] What? FOREMAN: We just destroyed two peoples’ lives. CHASE: I’m not allowed to run errands any more? FOREMAN: I’d like to see some sign that it affects you, or that you recognize that it affects other people. CHASE: So are you going to wear the beeper or not?

finding judas:

CHASE: I wasn't kissing his ass. FOREMAN: It just looked that way from our angle. You on your knees, House bending over. CHASE: He predicted the pancreatitis. CAMERON: It's his dad's fault. CHASE: My dad was an ass. CAMERON: But you did everything he wanted you to and, in return, you got everything you wanted. CHASE: Yeah! It's that simple. CAMERON: His strategy worked. Dad got him a cushy job, paid for his cushy life. CHASE: Cut me out of his cushy will. [cameron looks surprised/apologetic here; foreman continues:] FOREMAN: I told you, just his nature. Poor guy's hardwired to kiss ass.

[later:]

CHASE: Tritter finally froze my accounts. FOREMAN: Really? CHASE: You surprised? Why wouldn't he? FOREMAN: I figured if he was singling you out, you must have done something different. CHASE: What? Like talking? FOREMAN: Yeah. And now that he's frozen your accounts, you probably will. You need the cash, right? CHASE: He doesn't freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. He does freeze my accounts, I'm guilty. [foreman shrugs]

top secret:

FOREMAN: House would do Wilson before you'd do Chase. CAMERON: No, you would do House and Wilson before I do Chase. Now can we get back to work? CHASE: She did me once! FOREMAN: [laughing] She was stoned!

act your age:

CHASE: For the record, Cameron's the one who broke it off. FOREMAN: Not interested. No masses in the hypothalamus. CHASE: I wanted more. She didn't share my feelings. FOREMAN: I feel like I'm in a similar position.

resignation:

CHASE: So, why are you leaving? Or is it just some sort of power play? FOREMAN: You can have my parking space. My locker. CHASE: Is it about House? FOREMAN: Let me get all sensitive and confide in you. CHASE: Why wouldn't you want to tell me? FOREMAN: I don't like you. Never have, never will. You want me to share some more?

the jerk:

FOREMAN: I'll do it. But I've got a job interview after work. Anything comes up later, you guys handle it. CAMERON: Need a peer recommendation? FOREMAN: Thanks. [he looks at chase, who sort of shrugs] CHASE: Cameron's should suffice.

[later:]

CAMERON: Foreman's interview in New York got screwed up. CHASE: I heard. CAMERON: Foreman thought it was House, House thought it was Cuddy. Cuddy thought it was Wilson, Wilson thought it was me. CHASE: And you think it was me? [chuckles] God… you think I… sabotaged Foreman? I don't even want him here. CAMERON: I know. CHASE: Then why would I do…? CAMERON: I think you sabotaged Foreman just to sabotage Foreman.

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Thank you for sharing your thoughts! <3

To be honest, I don't know. The stories I'm reading and those I have read have a quite consistent audience that writes many (and even quite a lot of detailed) comments while these stories are being updated. But I usually read in other fandoms, so I can't tell if the demographic of these fandoms is generally more supportive of their writers or if these writers just know how to engage their audience. However, when I look at the stats of a couple of stories in the YOI fandom that started around the same time as CYHMH (summer 2022), I'm not so sure that it's just fandom demographics. Back then, there was one new story that had 10 chapters out with like 200 comments and I even saw one that had only 2 chapters out but already 300 comments. So, even back then and a long time before the movie cancellation, it was pretty much still possible to excite readers (For the record: I didn't look around for too long to protect my mental health, so the data I have to base my impression on is very incomplete.) Now that I know that many fans are very vocal about wanting more canon content, including some in-between-the-episodes stuff which CYHMH has in abundance, I'm genuinely puzzled. Having heard about the success of other novelisations and sequels, I doubt that's just about original content.

Interestingly, the movie cancellation didn't impact my stats at all. At that time I had a long-wished for uptick in engagement (supposedly due to the fact that I had resumed posting the improved & beta'ed version, but I'm not sure of that) and that uptick held on until about two months after the cancellation. It made me hopeful that I had finally found a steady audience. Interestingly, shortly after the eros-off ice chapter [about 2 months after the cancellation], comments and hits/chapter dropped massively and basically back to the low level they had been at in 2022.

The story has 477 comments (I'm counting the threads, not the total number), which is about 10 comments/chapter on average. From the outside that looks really good. However, a lot of that is from either readers who discovered the story later and made an effort to comment each chapter plus the success it had during the first half of this year. And don't get me wrong, I'm so happy every time a reader takes their time to comment on chapters that had been posted long ago because many readers seem to think that writers don't care getting feedback for these although most of us crave that. In many cases that finally got me the kind of feedback that I would have desperately needed to keep going in 2022, and if I had gotten that back then, the long break wouldn't have happened. Because no matter how much I appreciate these later readers (they're 3 in total, including you and I love every one of you <3), I also need some support and engagement when I post these chapters to keep staying motivated and not being on the verge of quitting writing again because just sharing them had made me feel so miserable.

Right now, there's still some engagement left. But knowing my experience with writing a series for my last fandom (before AO3), engagement drops with every instalment. So if, at this point, there is already so little excitement for my take on the ending of the show and my take on a continuation, I just know from past experiences that it will go down even further for the sequel. And for me, that really begs the question of whether I want to expose myself to another bout of losing my joy for writing and contemplating quitting it because I've already been there often enough.

At this point, I'm just at a loss about what to do. I feel like I did already everything that I could and it's still nowhere near enough: I did tons of research for this story, especially regarding Japanese culture and figure skating. I conducted a meticulous canon analysis to ensure that the characters are in-character and that everything that I add is a logical extension of canon to make sure that this story "feels" like YOI. I worked with a beta-reader because English is not my first language and in those chapters I've posted in 2022 it really showed. I respond to every comment and thank the commenter. And I post previews with little success, at least here on tumblr (not sure what the people on twitter do with them). There's hardly anything I could still try and it's not working.

Okay, I need to get this out of my system.

I have planned to post the sequel to my YOI novelisation in exactly a month from now. My beta said that the sequel feels like an actual continuation of YOI and a friend is even drawing a cover picture, which is just so amazing. But the more I think about it, the more it seems like I'm bound to regret releasing this story a couple of weeks later.

I won't lie. CYHMH had the total opposite of a dream start. I even paused the story for an entire year to get a beta reader because I failed to keep my audience interested and concluded that it was obviously bad. Or maybe it only did so poorly because it can't compete with other novelisations. I don't know and I don't want to know because if I learned the truth, I would probably shoot myself.

The story has 600+ kudos, but that's not reflected in the hits/chapter at all despite all the improvements I've made. The number of hits/chapter which had skyrocketed for a brief time span earlier this year (aka after I resumed posting the improved version) has decreased by 75% since June and hasn't recovered since. Often, I lose bookmarks and subscriptions within hours after posting a new chapter, which couldn't be a more obvious feedback.

I see this loss in interest also reflected in my chapter announcements and previews (not they had ever been great to begin with). Often, I'm the only person reblogging them because rarely anyone else does. On the other hand, my post that I would postpone the latest chapter due to the US elections was so popular and the contrast to the reactions when I finally posted that chapter was so huge that I wonder if people just want me to shut up and stop posting. To be honest, not posting would save me a lot of time and spoons because, let's be frank: writing for a mostly silent audience is just not it. (I have a little bit more engagement on other socials, but the downwards trend is the same there.)

There are only three chapters of CYHMH left to post. The story is at its climax and seeing the lack of interest and enthusiasm so close to the end is just so fucking disheartening after putting so much work into this story which I call my love letter to YOI. Maybe I don't write the kind of stories that inspire the majority of its readers to gush about it, but a part of me had been hoping for at least some people to be thrilled that the chapter was finally out. Or to be at least excited about the sequel. And I can't decide whether my writing just sucks that much to most people, if you're just silent because you only talk about my stories in some exclusionist fic club, or whether a sequel is just not wanted or needed due to the fandom being already saturated with that kind of story.

Would you guys prefer that I stop posting? If you really want to read my YOI sequel or just anything for that matter, I beg you to tell me and to support me.

[bonjaminfranklin]

Montrose: can immediately clock if anyone is lying to him at any time

Also Montrose: desperately tries to resuscitate a dead body

[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[mariocki]

Shadows of Fear: Did You Lock Up? (1.1, Thames, 1970)

"And they didn't make much mess?"

"No, not really. They forced that door. Smashed the cabinet, slashed a sofa. And kicked a hole in the bedroom door."

"Ah. Big mistake."

"What is?"

"Never lock inside doors. Anything you can to keep them out - but when they're in, let 'em get on with it."

"I'll remember."

[kwangyanese]

jaejoong getting dating rumours at his big age is crazy

[ssahotchnerr]

girl!dad aaron reading to his daughter over the phone while on a case! 🥹 just like that one episode of jj and henry 😭🥰

nightmares

i will sob. 🥺 i'm also setting this in ellie's bad dreams era :( cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, slight angst, fluff <3

"It looks like this is his comfort zone." Using a red marker, Spencer circled an area on the map. "If we pinpoint-"

As he was continuing his thought, Aaron's phone rang. He fully expected to see Penelope's name, anticipating her call as she was working her magic to narrow down a pool of potential unsubs. However, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he saw it was from you instead.

"Excuse me." He spoke lowly yet urgently, keeping his eyes on his screen and hurrying away with no hesitation, missing the team's concerned glances.

"Hey," he answered, closing the door to the empty conference room behind him. There was knowing feeling deep in his chest - and a grim one at that. "Everything alright?"

"Kinda... no." You switched up quickly with a sigh, slight distress in your voice. "I'm sorry, I know you're busy. But can you spare a minute or two?"

"Another nightmare?" Aaron's eyes shot to the clock perched on the wall. While it was somewhat early for him, it was getting late back home, timezones to thank. And doing the math quickly, bedtime for the kids had been about two hours ago. So sadly this - right on schedule.

You hummed in confirmation, beginning with the positive first. "She fell asleep in her bed tonight, actually. Went down easy, not much protest. But then woke up crying, and was nearly inconsolable for a while. She's with me now." Your eyes shifted down to your frightened daughter besides you, who was inching closer and closer to seemingly making herself smaller. "And keeps asking for you."

Aaron glanced out; the team was still preoccupied, discussing the geographical profile amongst themselves, and could definitely manage without him for a while longer. "Yeah, I have some time."

There was a quick rustle as you set your phone down, placing it on speaker. Your voice was farther now, not by much, but it felt treacherously distant, as if more miles had been added. "It's Daddy, honey."

"Hey Ellie Bellie." Aaron's tone quieted, his face softening as he spoke. "What's the matter?"

A light sniffle came from the other end. "I had a scary dream."

"A scary dream, huh?" He repeated, an achy pang producing in his chest. Ellie's nightmares have been occurring for a while now, and indubitably becoming a problem. You both expected the dreams to run their course, eventually pass, and things would return to normal. But as time moved forward, it was becoming clear it was well beyond that as they worsened. "It's okay, you're safe with Mom now, right?"

Ellie nodded, unknowingly to him. Her small voice cracked, laced with tears. "I want you."

"I know, and I'll be home when work lets me, I promise. You can even use my pillow tonight too, if you want." He bit down onto his lip as Ellie mumbled a small 'okay' in response. Hard. "Or how about a story? Would that help you feel better?"

Her head rose up and down again, prompting you to speak up as Aaron was met with only her silence.

"We have a few right here." You reached across her, grabbing the few storybooks that frequented Aaron's nightstand and settling back against your own pillow.

"Your pick sweetheart." Aaron pulled a chair from the table, sitting down and making himself comfortable momentarily.

"Goodnight Moon?"

Goodnight Moon, also one of Jack's favorites when he was younger. Between him and Ellie, Aaron's read it so many times, he had the entirety of the book memorized. In addition, Ellie's other, more lengthy favorites - he had gone through and cleverly taken a picture of each page, all stored safely in his camera roll for instances such as tonight. No matter where he happened to be, he could read the text, while also drawing attention to and discussing the images with her.

"Sure. Get all comfy and cozy up to Mom, yeah?"

Ellie nestled herself more into your side, her head resting on your arm as she death-gripped onto her plush bunny. You adjusted the duvet to adequately cover the two of you, scooting down and propping the book up for the two of you to see.

"We're ready when you are." You told Aaron, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from Ellie's face.

As your brief sentence concluded, a harsh pinch formed behind Aaron's eyes, the guilt creeping in as he pictured the two of you laid together, where he also should've been. His little girl was beside herself in fear, wanted him, and yet here he was. Far away on the other side of the country. He felt as if he were failing her; letting her down.

Aaron swallowed to even out his voice, to sound as cheery as he possibly could, and to refrain any agony from being heard. He took a deep, yet small guttural breath.

"In the great green room..."

[i-like-what-this-says-about-you]

every episode of house md part 3

high school teacher: alright class settle down, it is time for chemistry!

the students moan

random student #1: please mr roberts can we just use this period to do homework

mr roberts: no, chemistry is important, you see-

mr roberts starts choking

random student #2: oh my god! someone get him some water!

mr roberts stops choking

mr roberts: sorry about that folks, moving on-

mr roberts falls to the ground, unconscious

*** house and wilson are walking together

house: wilson, my guy, you are wearing a nice tie. you must be cheating on your wife

wilson: you’re just trying to find a way to compliment my tie without seeming nice. so, thank you. anyway, i have this case. high school chemistry teacher keeps randomly choking on nothing.

house: so? he has anderson’s choking disease

wilson: no, it doesn’t only occur when he’s sleeping. not anderson’s.

there is a brief moment of homoerotically staring and grinning at each other

house: ok, i’ll take it.

he grabs the file

***

house: ok people, new case. man can’t stop choking!

cameron: hmmm… can’t be andersons…

foreman: could it be cancer in his throat?

house: that only shows up for a minute or two every few days?

chase: longmedicalnameadocis!

house: good thinking, test for that, in the mean time start him on fancydrugname.

*** in the clinic

house sighs, pops a few vicodin, and enters a clinic room

clinic patient: my knees hurt.

house takes a good hard look at the patient. he’s ancient. every inch of him is wrinkled. his head has only a few surviving white hairs. next to him is who house assumes is his daughter.

house (sarcastically): hhhmmm… now this is a hard one.

daughter: please take him seriously! just a week ago it seemed like he was way younger! he had barely any wrinkles, he was running 4 miles a day- he was healthy and fit! something’s up!

the patient coughs and begins to struggle to breathe. he takes out an inhaler.

daughter: a week ago he didn’t need an inhaler. now he’s using it multiple times a day!

house (not sarcastically this time): interesting… i want to run a few tests.

*** in the office

foreman: fancydrugname made him worse.

house: chase you idiot you were way wrong.

chase: 😣😣🥺🥺

house writes the new symptoms on the board

foreman: i think it’s neurological.

house: okay, what neurological disorder could cause this?

foreman thinks in contemplation

cameron: insertanotherlongmedicalnamehere?

chase: there’s no treatment for that.

house: wrong. we can do surgery

foreman: surgery?

house: take out part of his brain

*** cuddy’s office

cuddy (angry): NO! you cannot cut into this man’s brain with no proof! it’s a rare condition, most people with it die and this treatment has never been used for the condition before!

house: i have proof.

cuddy: oh really?

house: yes. i think it will work and i’m always right.

cuddy shakes her head

cuddy: no.

*** in the clinic, same patient as before

daughter: please tell me you know what’s wrong with him.

the patient has a bag of almonds in his hand. he is shoveling handfuls of them into his mouth

house: jeez, that’s a lot of almonds- **epiphany moment** house: i have to go!!

daughter: what? what about my dad!!!

house (from out the clinic room): get him to stop eating all those damn almonds!!

*** mr roberts’ room

house: have you been exposed to large amounts of almonds recently?

mr roberts: yes, my son just started working at an almond factory.

house: aha! my proof!

house leaves, leaving mr roberts confused and in distress

*** mr roberts gets the surgery and is cured

once again, wilson and house are walking together. wilson is eating almonds

wilson: want one?

[silverwarewolf]

DUNGEON MESHI EPISODE 24 THOUGHTS

Oh, I had asked to see what the party's thoughts regarding the changeling situation were, especially when it came to their lifespans, but I didn't think it would turn out like this!

GOOD FUCKING JOB, CHILCHUCK. YOU'VE TRAUMATIZED MARCILLE EVEN FURTHER. Oh but I do so love the horrors of this situation of theirs. Marcille babygirl I would like to hug you and have a nice chat.

Anywya, on we go to think about Falin and any solutions that might help us here. Which is great! I love how much foreshadowing there is (in terms of what I've been vaguely told about the manga).

Laios Touden's problem solving skills, everyone.

That's honestly the SICKEST weapon design, I'm so on board with you Laios. This could be Kensuke's Halloween makeover. BUT DONT JUST TAKE THOSE MUSHROOMS WITH YOU OH MY GOD

... was this the opening sequence foreshadowing everyone was freaking out about? was that it? (don't actually tell me, though. if it was it, say yes. if it wasn't, don't say anything)

no comment here I just love them.

I just will never get used to elfshi's hands being Like That. But it's also kinda nice to see him and Izutsumi working along so nicely! Like, don't even get me started on how Izu is presented as the pickiest eater of the party (Marcille has been dethroned severely) and usually you'd see that presented as a Hassle, but here in DM, Senshi doesn't even bat an eye. He knows and respects Izutsumi's tastes and preferences and works his meals out around it! That's such a based thing for him to do. <3

This is a renaissance painting. (I love it when they adapt Ryoko Kui's visual gags and I LOVE when she does zoomed in faces like this. Truly one of the artists ever)

I did not have "Laios gets Pissed On" on my bingo card but every day I grow more and more convinced that the animators KNOW what they're doing and - OH MY GOD IS THAT SENSHI'S DWUSSY. ELFSHI ALTERNATIVE TO PANTY SHOT.

Ah, yes, Izutsumi sprawls all over them when sleeping, we been knew, again it's a little unexpected to see it front and center but I guess it works to demonstrate them returning to - THAT WAS LAIOS??? AND CHILCHUCK IS JUST LIFTING HIS LEG LIKE THAT?? OKAY THEN. SURE.

(and then there's a few more seconds of laiosfoot and laios bedhead)

BUT HEY THEY'RE BACK TO NORMAL

1) Yep, they're back to normal.

2) Laios I love you and I love Gothsuke but someone needs to be careful about biohazards and it's not going to be you.

3) Add this to the "Marcille Donato gets threateningly close to you in three steps" folder.

4) Truly only they can match each other's freak. When the NECROMANCER is telling you not to do something, don't do it! I know last time you smuggled a "normal" sword, it turned out to be useful, but I'm sure that's not the case here!

5) Poor Laios tho. I'll learn to blacksmith just to give you a cool sword. <3

I'm so glad they kept this. One of the silliest touden siblings moments. 10/10 no notes. Also, Falin is never beating the blunt force trauma allegations.

IS THAT CHILCHUCK'S WIFE. ARE YOU - MA'AM. HELLO?

"Why aren't you a twink like I thought you'd be?!" gets adapted! (I'm pretty sure that's the scene meant to be here, anyways)

I get it, girl.

Oh dear, they're going to eat Falin. And SENSHI was the one to suggest it! For a guy who was just fighting the doubts of accidental cannibalism a week ago, you're taking bold steps forward.

(I do love how it mirrors Laios' kindness back then, in truth. Even if it's an idea so shocking and dire at first, it comes from a place of reason and logic and love)

Marcille "I said I wanted to eat her OUT, not eat HER" Donato Izutsumi "That's going to taste gross as fuck" Izutsumi Chilchuck "If it brings her back..." Tims Laios Touden, the man with a thousand things on his head right now, two of which I reckon are "I don't want to eat my sister" and "Dragon-Chicken... what might it taste like?"

Yes, well. Valid as your concerns are, Laios, because how the fuck would five people eat THAT much meat, you can't just ramble on about what dishes you're going to make out of your sister.

(...I get it, though. I mean if you're going to eat, might as well make it good, right? I know no one wants to grill one of Faligon's ribs but I'll go ahead and say it would be worse to tell them to eat her raw)

FUCK! we DID lose those scenes about the twin bell that toshiro kept!! forever sad about that.

oh my godddd they're going back into the dungeonnn we're going to reunite with themmm

I know they're really fucking competent, I mean, Namari and Toshiro are already described as pretty formidable warriors (and we've seen it), and Kabru is... admittedly much more geared to fight humans but he's a decent fighter either way. And a good leader!

Speaking of, where the fuck is everyone else.

I know they're meant to be scary (and I suppose they are! If we have the reference that, firstly, marcille is an excellent spellcaster so these elves could be just as good in their own areas of expertise, yes?, and secondly, the canaries are Well Known)

... plus, Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them. Namari, Toshiro and Kabru are wary of them.

BUT damn it Lycion, I need to- (gets dragged off stage)

Anyway, while we wait for the next season (WHICH HAS BEEN GREENLIT! WOHOO!), have these wonderful images of chicken falin being a cathedral painting (...if cathedrals ever added dragons, i guess) and my beloveds, who have finally returned!

[jakei95]

[Post in English] Something Nyx and I want to publicly address, regarding the recent allegations in the Glitchtale Crew's Discord Server and it's moderators. I really apologize for the upcoming wall of text. These are our Twitter threads I have pasted them here, in case you don't have access to said platform. I have also added some additional notes to provide more context. All details under the line:

NyxTheShield: (Transcription from his official twitter thread) I read some mean comments lately and I just wanna be super clear: I havent been related to Glitchtale since at least 2022. I never considered myself part of the community and went through some much shit while doing stuff for it that my mental health was completely destroyed.

For people who thought I was an admin of the server, that was just in paper. I was constantly de-admin'd, demodded and kicked from the server through the years for simple stuff like asking the rest of the mod team to not say slurs or standing up against the Midnight Crew. I personally left the server for a long while because I really did not want to be around some of the people there. All of this happened years ago (from 2016~ to around 2020). On the early years, my full income came from Youtube/Glitchtale. I was a broke college student and my economic stability depended on it. Despite this, and making literally hundred of tracks and hours of music for the series, most of the income came from my own ad revenue. I was paid less than 2000 USD for all of the work. Essentially, I was paid in exposure.

This wouldn't have been an issue for me if at least I got to keep my artistic vision with the series. That didn't hold true for long.

From the second season and onwards, and in multiple instances, I would score the entire OST for the episode, watch the episode when it released, and then find out a completely new section of the episode (usually a battle scene) with music from somebody else This was completely demotivating to me because I wasn't being paid, the tracks would not fit the rest of the OST at all, and most of the income I made from the battle scenes. I had to work for weeks trying to compose music for glorified powerpoint presentations (Basically everything that's not a battle scene on the series was just still frames of characters barely moving) and do all the heavy lifting and I wasn't even let known about the guest tracks.

This added to the feeling of having absolutely no power within the community. I don't know if this was intentional or not (I don't wanna presume malice), but all of these things together contributed to me distancing myself from the community.

Honestly, there is A LOT more shit that went down these early years that are extremely traumatic to me that I would prefer to not talk about unless completely necessary, but I feel this is a good amount of context for what I wanna talk about next.

As you might be aware, extremely serious (and true) allegations were made against Camila and his partner, Veir, which was accused of grooming minors from 2015 to 2021 There are really good videos out there explaining the entire timeline of what transpired, but I specifically wanna talk about 2020.

(Jakei's note: Links to said videos are here: [1] [2] [3])

In that year, a public document was made by my head mod CrystalFlame alongside 2 other mods in the GT server, that exposed Veir and their actions. This document went mostly unnoticed. Even more, Crystal went through a lot of abuse for coming forward about their abuse and was almost ostracized from the UT AU community because of this.

Because of this, I was asked directly by one of the victims (and also representing the other victims) to please not speak up (Citing that they just wanted to move on and didn't want to involve themselves with more problems and expose themselves)

All the info was kept very vague from me, including the people who were involved, the extent of the stuff that went down, etc But I knew enough to know it was serious. I followed their request and didn't speak up publicly about this, but I banned Veir from my server, warned all of my mods and people close to me in those circles about Veir, and constantly tried to get Camila to please adress the situation. Despite this, she did not listen and we all know how stuff went down later in 2022, where the allegations came back again with full force. This time around I wasnt asked to stay silent so I spread the word around and confronted the entire mod team. I was shortly banned after that.

I needed to address this because this thing has been eating me alive for years. I was intentionally kept in the dark about a lot of context and nuance that would have completely changed my mind about speaking up or not about what happened in 2020.

Everything is easier in retrospective, and with the knowledge I now have about the situation I know for a fact that I would have spoken up about all that happened. But being asked directly to not speak up by the victims was something that goes against what I am Sorry for the long rant, but I really needed to get this off my chest. I am tired of having to deal with this kind of stuff. As a content creator/public figure I am trying my hardest to keep the communities I am active in as safe as possible.

I feel I could have done more for the Glitchtale community regarding the grooming situation, but all of the years of abuse that I endured really fucked up my judgement. I am not very good at dealing with people and I always trust the people close to help me for this kind of stuff

Sadly, in this case, those same people who were close to me were also the victims, so they couldnt have known or had a way to help me out, I should have helped them instead. Most if not all of what was described in this thread is backed up by screenshots, chat logs, and direct testimony from the people who were involved during this time.

I don't want to direct hate to anyone or start a witchhunt, I am doing this purely to decompress a bit and try to vent some of the trauma I experienced all these years.

============================================

Jakei: (Transcription from my official twitter thread) I would also like to share my experiences about my relationship with the Glitchtale Creator, Camila Cuevas. Publicly, we appeared as close friends, but in reality, that friendship was based on bullying and mistreatment, and this affected my mental health deeply.

Years have passed, and the memories still cause me pain. I decided to remain silent, but after the revelations of grooming cases in her community, I realized I wasn’t being too sensitive. The time has come to speak up about my experiences.

During the early years of Underverse, I was dealing with a serious depressive episode. Simultaneous internal and external pressures as an independent artist amplified my mental strain. Meeting Camila felt like finding a genuine friend who shared my passion for the fandom and understood the struggles of being a content creator amidst toxicity. At my lowest, I became compliant to doing things that I didn’t want to, just to keep people around me happy. For Camila, this meant allowing her to belittle my work and make me the butt of her jokes.

Only our veteran followers may remember the 'roasting games' between us on Tumblr (consisting of mutual insults), a spectacle where she'd always win. However, it was a game she privately forced me to "play" and I ended up accepting, despite the discomfort it caused me. These 'games' would give her a cool and strong image in the fandom while painting me as the dumb, 'cringe-worthy' friend. In essence, I became her personal punching bag, unknowingly reinforcing his reputation.

Camila's favorite term to demean my series 'Underverse' was “Cancerverse”. It felt like a constant contest where she'd always position herself as the superior writer and animator simply because my story and animation techniques didn't fit her standards. Years of being subjected to her ridicule left my self-esteem in ruins. I was okay with the negative feedback by some fans, but when my 'friend' publicly disrespected my art, it made me question my abilities as an artist.

I can't deny there were times when she gave me advice to deal with hate or hurtful comments. However, her damaging comments and treatment outweighed those moments of support.

My depressive state worsened around July 2017, where I had accepted people pushing me to do things I wasn’t comfortable with, while being part of Camila's demeaning games, just to appease her ego. I was introduced to Nyx during this time, he offered his music for my series, and eventually we started dating. We met in person in Chile, where I also met Camila. I hoped our friendship would strengthen but everything felt the same. Before I moved to Chile with Nyx, Camila reached out to me in dms, attempting to turn me against him because he opposed the use of slurs in the GT server. She claimed Nyx was being 'brainwashed' by his American friends belonging to the black and LGBTQ+ communities. She made fun of my dating choices, suggesting I was entering a toxic relationship, while showing off her relationship with her then-boyfriend (later exposed as a pedophile). She even quoted her own mother assuring me that Nyx would 'get back to normal', and if it didn’t happen, she would let me live in her house, almost like if she was telling me that Nyx would hurt me or make me feel miserable.

It only took Nyx 3 months to realize that the GT server was going in the wrong way. I initially felt compelled to defend Camila due to my inferiority complex, but soon realized Nyx was right. (Jakei's note: Not only Nyx was right, a lot of people that called her out over the years were right, yet they were not listened to at the time)

Even then, I found it difficult to distance myself from Camila due to the false sense of obligation I felt towards her. My fear of her making fun of my work kept me from interacting with others in the short period of time I stayed in her Discord server. I was afraid that she and her echo chamber would talk behind my back, something that I found out was happening in private chats until recent years.

Rebuilding my self-esteem wasn't an easy task. I began noticing the red flags – Camila's lack of respect not only for me but Nyx also, the emotional manipulation Nyx was suffering from Veir (something he used to do all the time with his other victims), her attempts to 'roast' me in front of her family and fans in the Underverse/Glitchtale meetings, and her constant criticism of my artstyle not being compatible to hers in the few collabs we made.

All these 'small' instances, dismissed as insignificant by many, caused me immense pain while treating my depression. I felt it was too late to express how I felt, as I feared being labeled as attention-seeking or oversensitive by her and her fanbase. Ironically, the moment she talked about her traumas after being bullied in the past, her feelings were the only ones that mattered any time she was involved in a problematic situation in the fandom and deserved to be the only to get pats in the back.

I never expected a sincere apology, as I was convinced she didn't remember or didn't care about the hurt she caused. I tried to maintain a facade of good terms with her, both publicly and privately. Eventually, I distanced myself from her, unfriending her and banning her from my own server even if she didn't interact there. I started focusing on my own work and the people who appreciated it. Despite this, the aftermath of the bullying continued to affect me.

Everything fell into place when the grooming accusations against her former boyfriend and server mods came to light. It was a shocking revelation, but it validated all my doubts and fears about her. The purpose of sharing my experiences is not to stir up drama, but to address the concerns of those worried about my association with Camila. I want to make it clear that I will never tolerate such behavior. Although the things I did for her in the past cannot be erased, I hope Camila at least deletes the animation remake I did for her and all the collabs that boosted her views for free, though I'm not optimistic about it happening.

As I've matured, my hope is that she and her crew learn from their mistakes, start behaving like adults, and take responsibility for their actions in their future projects and with their new followers. But I'm skeptical about any real change, especially if their server continues to exist. The best course of action for me was to cut all ties with Camila and Glitchtale.

NyxTheShield (now my husband) and I have endured too much from our treatment by Camila. We no longer want to be associated with her or Glitchtale. It's a chapter of our lives that we wish to close. It's time for us to focus on recovering our mental health, as remaining silent is only prolonging our pain. We have been working to improve our mental and physical health over the past few years and this is a crucial part of our healing process.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Are You Sure?! Episode 6 Observations

10/10 ☆

A few weeks ago, when once again Jimin and Jungkook were pretending to be strangers in another roleplay session, I had this idea of what it might mean. A response that I categorize as ridiculous speculation on my part, but one which can be used as a starting point of one interpretation. The roleplay might just be part of their flirting (it is the main reason), but the type of narrative they always engaged with made me wonder.

Their stories always follow the theme of strangers meeting in a bar/cafe/forest/out on a lake, etc. Not a day went by in which they didn't do it. It almost feel like a reflex. Both Jimin and Jungkook fall into their parts instantly and they bounce of each other. Never an awkward pause. Never a line that falls flat. They always enjoy it and it comes naturally to them. It's a habit. But one that allows them to imagine themselves perhaps as just two regular guys where one uses a pick up line and the other one accepts that glass of whiskey. Because why not? Perhaps these are all fictional worlds in which they are not famous and they can be whoever they want.

Are You Sure?! might be in a way one of those fantasies. An attempt at "doing life" from people who are living unconventional lives and who are trying to do anything two friends or two lovers might do when they need a weekend away. Yes, we're aware of the convention. It is a show with a specific format. It is made for an audience. But it's a show where "nothing" happens. There's no actual dramatic points being pushed. It's a vlog with slightly higher productions costs in which shots from the subjects' hand held cameras are edited together with ones filmed from another pov. But the essence of it might be reduced to the "fantasy of the mundane".

That tone and perspective was perhaps most visible in episode 6 of AYS?! so far, despite the fact that the staff presence was felt a lot more.

Jimin and Jungkook play at life. One that gets to be highly romanticized in Sapporo by the subjects themselves. There's a constant feeling of living in a fantasy. In some cases, the roleplay and acting attempts made it obvious. The pick up line in a jazz bar and offering a glass of whiskey. Pretending they're in anime while gazing at the ocean from their train window. Such dreamers. And why not? Why not forget for 3 days that the world knows them, that they are working non-stop for their music or that they have to leave all their fantasies behind in two weeks?

Sometimes pretending helps. A "what if". They can live in this bubble where they don't have to sweep the snow and instead they can just run through it like puppies. They can go grab coffee on a weekday morning from that cafe on the corner where students gather everyday to study. They can squeeze a shoulder and gulp and freeze for a second when one of them gets baby fever in a train station. They can imagine a life in which they were same age friends, even though their hierarchy now is all backwards.

It's only for three days before they have to return to reality. For now, they stay in their Sapporo dream.

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

[pastanest]

Spencer Reid x gn!reader

A/N: been gone for a hot minute due to personal circumstances but just wanted to drop a lil something (that anyone who watches Doctor Who will be able to tell I started writing a BIT ago given the references here lol) to let you guys know I’m still kickin it <3

warnings: slight hint at an age gap but nothing specific

A Smile

You can imagine the rest of the team would be floored to hear that Spencer has actually exchanged texts with you on a multitude of occasions, outside of professional settings. Numbers were swapped on your first day, naturally, and to begin with you only dared text Spencer if you had absolutely no other choice (if another member of the team could text him, you’d busy yourself to ensure they would, rather than ask you, to save you the embarrassment). But, ever since the first occasion that you texted Spencer a random question out of hours - regarding trivia you definitely hadn’t spent a concerning amount of time deciding on before you sent it to him - you have formed a bond that’s unspoken beyond typed words.

You: so, are you looking forward to the 60th Anniversary? :P

As you hit send, you roll onto your bed, grinning giddily down at your phone. In no more than a few seconds, your screen tells you that your beloved genius is already typing back to you, and within a minute, you receive the paragraph you’d anticipated.

Spencer: Absolutely. The revival of Russel T. Davies’ era, coupled with the return of Murray Gold’s legendary scores, are sure to ignite the spark of nostalgia that the show has been missing for some time. In particular, I am looking forward to seeing how Russel will format this new regeneration of the Doctor, and how many references to his predecessors will decorate the anniversary episodes, especially. I take it you are excited for the anniversary episodes, too, hence the question?

His formality and enthusiasm being conveyed in a way that is so distinctly Spencer, even over text, is enough to have you giggling. You know by now that if you ask something about one of Spencer’s interests, whether it be facts, statistics, generalized trivia, questions, literature, Star Trek or, in this case, Doctor Who, there is no way he can downplay his excitement.

You: knew it! :D and yeah, I'm super excited!!

Mostly, you are thrilled by the thought of discussing the episodes at great length with Spencer for weeks after they’ve aired, but you keep that safely in the subtext of your conversation.

Spencer: Of course you knew. Perhaps we could share a live commentary on the anniversary episodes, if we’re not otherwise engaged with a case?

Only Spencer Reid can make your heart stop with a suggestion like that. Before you can consider any consequences, you are frantically typing back to him.

You: I’d love that! will the commentary be by text or call?

He is typing the moment your message reaches him, his ability to read at what you consider to be the speed of light making for a wonderfully speedy texting partner in every conversation you have.

Spencer: Either is fine, but if we aren’t away on a case, I must admit the idea of experiencing the episodes together in person would be most preferable. It eradicates the risk of our viewings not being synced up or our call connection potentially spoiling the immersion. What do you think?

And just like that, he’s stopped your heart again. In fact, you truly have to consider whether Spencer Reid has figured out a means of reaching through his phone to yours, to snatch your heart right out of your chest. As though he hadn’t already stolen it on the day you met.

You: I think you’re right, like always, Doctor Reid :P

That’s a rational reply, you think. Not too eager. Not the resounding ‘yes’ that every fiber of your being is screaming. In the chess game that is how-to-text-Spencer-Reid, you have marked yourself as the queen. He’d tell you that’s not how chess works, but he’d probably also agree.

Spencer: I’m far from right “always”, but I very much appreciate that you think so.

You’re about to reply, when another text appears on your screen.

Spencer: (:

Doctor Spencer Reid has double-texted you. And, not only that, he’s sent you a smiley face. This is unprecedented. Your jaw drops.

You: omg you did not just send that

Honestly, your life is flashing before your eyes as you lie on your bed. Is this the power of your influence? Could you truly indoctrinate older men into sending emojis? Could this really be you?

Spencer: I most certainly did. I’ll even do it again.

Spencer: (:

He had to send it as a separate text. He couldn’t just add the smiley face to the end of his original message. No, of course he couldn’t.

You: omg who are you!!

You’re laughing now. Actually, properly laughing at the ridiculousness of this situation. Wait until Penelope hears about this.

Spencer: I don’t think these suit me very much, but they are fun. What about this one - 🙂

This is going too far. You’ve played God. You’ve flown too close to the sun. You’ve created a monster in the form of Spencer Reid using emojis while still being so formal. Still, you can’t deny that this is perhaps the funniest conversation you have ever had, with anyone, specifically because it perfectly demonstrates the unique humor shared between the two of you.

You: woah! careful! don’t push it, genius!!

And, in response to that, Spencer Reid is left with a philosophical question he has never before pondered: how does one convey sincere laughter via text? This reply takes him the longest, because he has to consider it very carefully. He wants it to indicate how funny he did find your message, and does find you, in general. He wants it to be obvious in its intent and impossible to misunderstand. So, after four minutes, you receive a text that has you laughing so hard you very nearly fall off of your bed.

Spencer: Haha.

Sometimes, that’s simply how your text conversations with Spencer end. While he does, generally, prefer a more traditional ending in the form of a goodnight text (that he actually makes the effort to sign off with a “- Spencer x”, like it’s a handwritten letter), he enjoys the nuances of an open end, on the basis it means a conversation with you doesn’t have to end. Only has to pause, temporarily, until one of you picks it back up again. There is something poetic, Spencer thinks, to the notion of you being his constant both in metaphor and literally in a text conversation that isn’t formally closed. That door is left open to you, much like the door to his heart is.

And that night, he closes his eyes with a smile on his face at the thought of you, everything you are, everything you make him feel. Everything that makes you, you, and how that makes you everything to him.

A text could never truly convey the heaven that you bring to him by existing, but just like proposing plans to watch Doctor Who with you, it’s a good place to start.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎDon't Worry Darling (The Aftermath)౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: signs of trauma, mentions of kidnapping pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: you and coriolanus comfort your daughter in the wake of her kidnapping author’s note: thank you sm anon for requesting this! <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Nobody ever talks about the after of the unimaginable. The end of the story is supposed to be assurance that the ones who went through it are safe and sound. How you wished everything had been neatly tied with a bow in your case.

As you attempted to console your baby girl as she cried, the memory of her horrible ordeal fresh in her mind and causing her distress, you wished the burden of her pain was yours to take away. With every sob that wracked her little body, you felt a stab in your chest.

Penny had been in a state of nearly perpetual anxiety ever since the events of a month ago You were aware of very little of what had actually occurred, the details kept quiet by your husband. The only thing you knew was that Penny was suffering for it.

Nightmares disturbed her sleep, phantoms invisible to you playing out in front of her. It had become a regular thing for Coriolanus and you to be roused from your slumber by the piercing, heartbreaking sound of her crying.

While she was awake she clung to the two of you, primarily her father. You suspected her preference likely had to do with his hand in her rescue. It was a sweet sight- him holding his daughter and whispering to her that everything was okay, that she was safe with him. He was often the one who went to her when she had a nightmare, insisting you needed your sleep due to your ongoing pregnancy. To his credit, he was often able to calm her down within a few minutes, returning to you with assurances that she was okay.

But now, as you knelt on the floor of the nursery with Penny, attempting to soothe her, Coriolanus was nowhere to be found. He had phoned to say he'd be running late due to a meeting that ran overtime. Of course this was when Penny needed him this badly. It was sorely unusual for her to have an episode during the day, when she hadn't been asleep.

Sniffling, with crystal tears staining her cheeks, Penny clung to you, fitting into your arms around your belly, her face buried in your neck. Fingers roving over her light silken hair, the same color as her father's, you murmured, "It's okay, sweetheart. You're safe, my love. I'm right here with you."

"Mama," she sobbed into you, little hand clinging to your dress. "They're gonna come get me."

"Nobody's coming to get you," you promised, holding her a little tighter. "You're safe right here."

"I want Daddy!" Her words trailed off into a sob, and you rocked her back and forth, rubbing her back

"Daddy's gonna be home soon." You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, humming a lullaby you used to sing her to sleep with. The sound of the familiar melody seemed to calm her slightly, and she grasped at you, breaths slowing down.

You shifted in your spot so she was more comfortably positioned against you, and the baby within the safety of your stomach did too, tapping a kick against your side.

Penny lifted her head, staring up at you with wide eyes. "Mama?" She looked down at your belly in surprise. "What's that?"

Running a hand over your bump, you squeezed her against you, following her eyes. "It's the baby. Your brother or sister."

Her eyebrows lifted in shock, and she touched your stomach carefully, feeling the baby kick you again. She gasped slightly, looking back up at you. "Why's the baby kicking."

Smiling gently, you rubbed your hand over her back, relieved to have distracted her from her tears. "Baby's worried about you."

She blinked once, eyes falling to your stomach again. Leaning forward, she whispered, "Hi baby." The child inside you kicked the space under her hand, as if responding to her.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway, and you looked up just as Coriolanus appeared in the doorway, his sleeves already rolled up, tie discarded. His hair was messier than it had been this morning, and you could see his curls beginning to form through the gel. It was your favorite version of his hair, and you knew he'd let you run your fingers through it once you were in bed.

He smiled tiredly, taking in the sight before him and coming forward, kneeling at your side. Pressing a kiss to your cheek, Coriolanus held out his arms for his daughter, who ran promptly into them. "Daddy!"

"How's my shiny Penny?" Coriolanus kissed the top of her head, and she fisted his shirt. His cerulean eyes found yours, and the corners of your lips lifted sadly.

"We've been calming down," you explained, and he held out his arm to you, understanding instantly. It was no easy thing bringing your daughter down from her anguish. Leaning into him, your belly pressing against his thigh, you found your usual place under his arm. He rubbed your side, kissing your hair gently.

It was a lovely picture: you and your daughter nestled against him. You knew that nothing brought Coriolanus more joy than holding his girls. Indeed, to the both of you, his arms were a safe harbor that kept you warm. And he was the protector, the one who held you tight and assured you of the fact that everything was okay.

In your marriage, you had always been secure in his feelings for you. Not once had you ever questioned his utter devotion to your being, to your family. It was nearly illicit for a man of his stature and power to hold such tender love, but he did anyways. This was one of the things you loved the most about him. Your Coryo.

He insisted on putting Penny to bed, sending you off to prepare for sleep on your own. You removed the day's clothing, donning a lacy nightdress that your belly poked through. Behind the window you could see that it was beginning to rain, droplets of water sliding down the glass pane. The sound of water beating against the roof had always brought you comfort, and after your daughter's earlier distress you found you needed it.

You settled yourself under the covers, pulling a blanket over your lap. Coriolanus appeared much sooner than expected, stripping his clothes away and getting in bed with you, engulfing your tired form in his arms. The warmth of them was welcoming, and you snuggled close, body instantly sleepy. He had that effect on you- the one that instantly relaxed you and knocked down any walls you held up for your safety. There was no need to protect yourself here.

The night's gentle touch kissed your tired body as your husband whispered that he loved you, and you felt the call of sleep beckoning. Like a nightingale's song, you followed it down a path so familiar, drifting into your dreams.

In the quiet of the night, a scream that made your blood run cold wrenched you from the sleep you'd so desperately needed.

Sitting up suddenly out of Coriolanus' arms, you looked around wide-eyed, sure it had come from your bedroom. Thunder rumbled outside, tapping out a beat against the roof in rain's morse code. When you turned your head to the side, a flash of lightning like two fingers lit the distance.

Even now you could still hear it- the long wail that echoed from down the hallway like a ghost's call. Immediately you recognized it. Penny.

Sitting up beside you, your husband looked alert, hardly any sleep lingering in his eyes. He was as light a sleeper as you were lately- hardly able to keep unconscious with your daughter's affliction in mind. You knew his own dreams tormented him- he'd never breathed a word of what he'd seen or done when Penny had been taken. But it haunted his being. Anyone could see it.

You moved to throw aside the covers and run to your crying baby, but he put a hand on your knee, quelling your motions. "I'll get her. Go back to sleep." The both of you knew you wouldn't.

Combing fingers through your hair, you pulled the blanket securely around you, turning your head to the window. Another shock of thunder boomed like a church bell, and it hit you then that the storm must have been what scared Penny. The notion broke your heart as it was wont to do lately. Bringing a hand to your belly, you rubbed it absentmindedly, hoping and praying this baby wouldn't have to go through anything near as earth shattering.

The door opened and shut, and the sight of Coriolanus carrying a sniffling Penny met your vision. In your mind's eye you could see what must have happened- him walking in on her crying and reaching for him, scooping her up into his arms and muttering words of comfort. Despite everything, you smiled lightly, endeared as you always were by what a good father he continually proved himself to be.

Once Penny was on the bed, you reached out for her, gathering her close and hugging her tight. "Oh my sweet girl..." You cradled her close, rocking your body back and forth. "Everything's okay. It's all okay."

Lifting your eyes to Coriolanus, your chest heaved with a tired sigh. His eyes held a similar contempt. You knew what he was thinking because it was on your mind too.

Burying your nose in your baby girl's hair, you rubbed your hand up her arm. The mattress dipped, and then his arms were around you, holding the two of you just as he had earlier. Penny murmured for her daddy in a sweet little voice, and you shifted closer to Coriolanus, guiding her to turn around and snuggle up to him.

"Make the loud stop," Penny mumbled into his chest. You took in a breath, reaching over and rubbing her back, trying to comfort her the best you could. Coriolanus kissed the top of her head, holding her steadfastly.

"It's almost over, sweetheart," he promised, sliding his arm under you to pull you into him as well. "Just close your eyes."

Settled between you, Penny's little hands found your belly, where the baby had begun to kick once more. She whispered. "Baby isn't sleeping."

"Baby wants you to feel better," you murmured, stroking her hair.

Penny held a fistful of your nightdress as she felt the baby kicking again. She mumbled sleepily, "It's okay baby."

Touching your belly seemed to soothe her, and you watched in awe as her eyes drifted shut, her breathing quickly lulling with sleep. Looking up at Coriolanus with wide eyes, you felt a slight smile of pure relief come over you. She was calm. She was sleeping.

Coriolanus settled in closer, pressing his lips to the top of your head for a long moment. The way he looked at the two of you expressed nothing less than absolute devotion. You hadn't known how visible an emotion could be in someone before now.

His love knew no bounds. In a swoop of everything good in the world, the way he held you promised a future of light though the present was unclear. You knew he would stop at nothing until Penny was better.

The universe was at his fingertips, and he gave it all to you, every last speck of stardust. You and Penny were his treasures, and he treated you as such. As the storm raged outside, you felt it bloom within you. The only worthy thing in this world, the feeling every person desired.

He would take the Fates' pen and write the happy ending himself if that was what it took. Your life, your love, your heart. You put it in his hands as he rocked you and your daughter back into the deep throes of sleep.