#like I’m not out to make entirely outrageous claims

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Josh and Sam’s Chemistry

I’m of the opinion that, even though they have less screen time together than UD’s established couples and aren’t explicitly romantic, Josh and Sam have better chemistry than most of the other Until Dawn couples. And I’m not playing here. I felt this in my bones, and I am now PREPARED to defend it with paragraphs upon paragraphs analyzing this game’s character writing.

Someone on Reddit tried to make fun of me for this opinion by saying Josh/Sam barely have any interaction. But what was not considered here is that I’m a petty bitch and am COUNTING THE LINES IN THE TRANSCRIPT NOW. Anyway, I’m more than half through the game, and currently Sam and Josh are both in each other’s TOP TWO for dialogue shared. Chris is there fighting for both their attention like mad though 😂. It’s very close so far. Like cooooome on, I’m not arguing that we have any canonical proof Josh and Sam are romantic. We don’t. But to say they don’t have very memorable interaction with each other….? Stuff and NONSENSE.

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I’m just picturing bilbo talking about courting habit of hobbits to the company (maybe ori was asking questions idk) and he off handily mentions that hobbits court via food.

Cue the company wondering that if them eating his entire pantry and him letting them means something. This increases into an argument wether over whose the better dwarf. (Not that any of them are planning on doing anything but they were trying to figure out how to let Bilbo down and it spiralled into who was the best)

“I have better hair”

“I’m a BETTER FIGHTER”

“Well I can cook, Hobbits like food and lots of it.”

Thorin is silently stewing but can’t say anything. That is until Gandalf says that the courting only counts if the hobbit themselves cooks the food for you and serves you. (He thinks the drama is hilarious and wanted more entertainment)

The entire company then remembers that only only person he technically served was Thorin with the soup he cooked.

This only makes the fighting worse, and makes Thorin more smug. Fili and Kili are outraged

“We’re both royalty and younger and more attractive. What does uncle have that we don’t”

But they use this against him when he’s being rude to bilbo “oh be careful uncle, he might trade you in for a better model”

Balin is overjoyed because bilbo is persuasive and politically smart and doesn’t like gold. Dwalin doesn’t know whether to clown on Thorin or be scared over his future as a royal guard because bilbo is somehow worse than Thorin when it comes to death defining stunts.

The rest of the company still argues up until Thorin and bilbos wedding whether or not bilbo was counting them as well. They also make bets because or course they do.

Gandalf takes great, great pleasure in claiming credit for bringing the couple together but honestly he was just looking for entertainment.

[messiahzzz]

i’m not here to claim that wyll doesn’t deserve more extra content or that larian’s perspective of him isn’t rooted in racism in any way whatsoever. however, i sincerely believe that it’s always important to list the facts first before misinformation continues to spread which only results in more needless outrage.

these are all of wyll’s scenes that exist in the game as of now:

meeting karlach, mizora, and his transformation, the tiefling party kiss, the dance scene, mizora visiting camp, another scene where mizora visits camp, and the proposal scene. additionally, mizora and uldred can join camp, if he is alive.

in strict comparison - this is the exact amount of scenes the other origin characters have:

Astarion has 9 scenes, 6 of which can possibly be romantic.

Lae’zel has 7 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.

Shadowheart has 6 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.

Gale has 6 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.

Karlach has 4 non-standard dialogue scenes, 3 of which can possibly be romantic.

Wyll has 5 non-standard dialogue scenes, 2 of which can possibly be romantic.

source: [x]

wyll is lacking one scene compared to characters like shadowheart and gale. lae’zel merely has another non-standard dialogue scene, while astarion has double the amount of possible romance scenes and 9 scenes in total.

here is a video of wyll’s entire story: [x] at a duration of 2:25:24 in total it’s very similar in length to the romances of the other companions the same channel uploaded. (minthara & halsin excluded)

i have also seen many people refer to the datamined voicelines as proof of how much content wyll lacks. this, however, doesn’t tell us much since those compilations include battle grunts, noises, and other repeated lines. if you want to check them out for yourself, here is chubblot’s playlist on youtube: [x]

wyll’s romance/approval-specific greetings also exist, they are merely bugged. although i have heard that some people have been able to trigger them. bugged content is something that also affects other companions – in fact, most of gale’s romance scenes and some integral dialogue have been bugged for months now with no fixes anywhere in sight. if you don’t want to look for wyll’s greetings in the files, i took the liberty of doing it for you:

alas, his general reactivity after act i remains the same as with the others. aka: he's barely responsive to his surroundings nor to any key decisions the player makes.

wyll also isn’t the only character who isn’t able to make his own choice on whether he agrees to sell his soul for his father’s life or not. in fact, the only characters who can decide their own fate are shadowheart and lae’zel. the latter option only now being added with patch 6.

so what exactly did wyll get after patch 6? the same amount of kisses like everyone else: 4 in total. as well as some new idle animations and polished facial expressions. the kiss where he invites tav for a quick twirl had already been added in an earlier update (patch 5, 30th november 2023). which means it’s understandable that certain characters who didn’t receive any new animations or other content before were now added with patch 6 as well.

wyll’s quest regarding ansur also didn’t get removed from the game. this is plain false. larian merely changed the subcategory in the journal (which larian had done previously with astarion’s gur-related quest as well)

if you have a gripe with this particular decision: that is valid. the quest, however, is still the exact same as it was before.

i see fandom heading in this really dangerous direction where people fully believe they have the right to attack others for pointing out the existence of false information. i understand that people are upset about wyll having less content than characters like astarion and i am in no way here to claim that you should refrain from calling out racism where it’s due. however, this hostile behavior directed at anyone who dares to disagree with you is creating a really toxic environment within online spaces, where people hesitate to engage with the wyll side of the fandom at all (out of fear of immediately receiving the racist card for merely correcting inconsistencies in logic). and in case it needs to be said again: it is never justified to harass real people or send death threats to others under any circumstances, much less if it concerns a fictional character.

i, much like everyone, really want wyll to receive more love from fandom and larian alike. but it is no one’s place to police other players on how they should engage with this specific character in their own game. if others simply couldn��t connect to wyll as much as you personally have – for whatever reason – that is on them. it's them who are missing out. this shouldn’t hinder your enjoyment of this character in any way or discourage you from creating more fan content.

TL;DR: it’s completely valid to request more wyll content, but please don’t resort to “demands” or public pressure directed at the devs. this is only doing more harm in the long run (to wyll’s, as well as his fanbase's reputation within the rest of the fandom instead of actually accomplishing much). don’t spread misinformation that he’s the only one of the companions who is continuously receiving the short end of the stick in terms of content, general reactivity, and bug fixes. if anything, the biggest difference is between him and astarion (again, much like every other companion).

🙏 please be respectful to each other 🙏

update, 19th february:

a user suggested providing an alternative to petitions on this post and linking directly to larian’s official feedback form, which you can find here: [x]

you’ll be able to add screenshots of the specific issue you’re reporting. keep in mind that you need to name your exact game version if you plan to send in a report. i’ve had larian ask me to send them the specific game files in the past, so it’s best to keep them on hand in advance.

larian also has a faq page on how to submit a general bug report [x]

here is an example of what to write:

(I’d like to address the disparity in content between Wyll and the other origin companions.) As of now, Wyll is lacking an entire scene compared to the rest of the characters, and his romance-specific greetings remain bugged as well. The lack of equal scenes makes Wyll’s story feel lackluster at times and undermines the pacing of his romance and overall character arc. It is very disheartening for POC players specifically to see racial biases reflected in his treatment and that Wyll didn’t receive the same amount of resources. Considering his narrative role as the Grand Duke's son he also deserves to be in the spotlight. When can we expect any fixes or additional content?

[freedomfireflies]

iFall for Harry pt. 6

Summary: The sixth part to iFall for Harry

You and Harry are finally meeting for the first time.

And it doesn't go how either of you planned.

Word Count: 2.6k

“This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy.”

And despite this acceptance, your feet continue to carry you down the streets of New York toward Ellen’s Stardust Diner.

You went back and forth on this decision all night. Tossing and turning in your bed as you stared at his contact in your phone.

You debated texting him that you couldn’t do it. Debated claiming that you didn’t want to lose what you had. Didn’t want to make it…real.

Not to mention you still don’t know if he’s even real. Or if your safety will be called into concern. You don’t imagine he’ll be able to do much in a crowded diner.

But you never know.

Your fingers play with the necklace dangling down your chest, fiddling with it mindlessly as you continue to approach the restaurant.

You’ve never been so nervous in your life. How did you get here? Of all the situations to find yourself in, this is where your life led you? 

You can see the sign just up ahead, and your stride slows to a stop.

If you want to turn around…this is your time. 

Right now. 

Just…turn around.

And pretend it never happened.

Your phone buzzes in your back pocket, forcing your eyes away as you reach for it and slide up on the screen.

You find a text from Harry.

Ever tried eating a clock? It’s very time consuming. 

 Despite yourself, you laugh, eyes rolling as you get ready to respond.

But before you can, his bubbles are reemerging, and a second text comes in.

Maybe see you soon?

You swallow and glance up at the diner, fingers tapping the back of your phone. What are you gonna do?

With a deep breath, you type, Maybe see me now. I’m outside.

His reply is instantaneous: Back booth in the corner.

And now, it’s a step past real. It’s happening. You really are going to meet the face of the man whose voice you came to, and maybe…maybe this isn’t such a good idea.

Nevertheless, your feet continue to take you to the front door while your hand reaches for the handle and brings you inside.

The restaurant is crowded, and your heart hammers inside your chest as you look around for any indications of the stranger you’re here to meet.

You wonder yet again if he’ll be what you expected. If his face will match that outrageously sexy voice of his. If this one meeting alone will send you into therapy for the rest of your life.

And then…you see him.

At least, you think you see him. A dark, hooded figure crouched in the shadows of the booth in the corner as you cautiously make your way over. 

You clear your throat, ready to call out to him but stop. What would you even say? Do you say his name? Make a joke? Silently slide into the booth?

“So, you ate a clock, huh?” you decide as you approach, and watch as his head lifts. “Need a hand?”

You almost wince as the joke settles between you but before you can…he smiles.

The entire room seems to go quiet as you take each other in. He’s got a dark hood pulled over his head, and sunglasses perched atop his nose. His blue jeans are ripped, one leg tapping fervently beneath the table before slowly coming to a stop as he straightens up and looks at you.

And then…he reaches up, and slips the glasses off. 

Your eyes meet for the first time and instantly, everything changes.

At first, you aren’t sure why. Aren’t sure what this odd feeling in your chest is but it creeps up the back of your throat as he leans back and runs his tongue over his lip.

“Hi,” he breathes, and the familiar rasp to his voice is somehow both comforting and exhilarating. 

It really is him.

You take another step closer, studying his features closely as the prickle crawling up your spine increases. 

You feel like you know him. You know him. You aren’t sure how, aren’t sure why. Is it simply because of the relationship you’ve built over the phone? Have you actually met him before? Does he know you?

“Hi,” you finally respond, slowly slipping into the booth as well, brows furrowing together. “It’s…you.”

“Yeah,” he grins before his expression falls, and a hint of guilt begins to creep through. “Yeah. Shit. I…okay, I should have told you. I know, but I…I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you’d…care? I guess, and I—”

I should have told you. Your head tilts. Told you what? 

“—which wasn’t important to me. And I didn’t know if it would be important to you,” he continues, mistaking your confusion for betrayal. “And then you assumed I was a stripper or something, and it just…it seemed easier than actually…telling you? You know? And it could just be us, and not all the extra bullshit—”

“Wait.” You lean back, once again studying him as if to find the answer within his features. “Wait, I…I know you.”

His eyes soften but he offers no explanation.

And it’s going to kill you because you do know him, but you aren’t sure how or why and you don’t understand why he assumed you’d know him, or what he’s saying, and—

“Oh, my god,” you whisper as the realization finally finds you. “Oh…my god, you’re…you’re…”

Harry fucking Styles.

It hits you like a fucking train until you feel dizzy. Until there’s a catch in your breathing pattern and you nearly choke on the truth.

He sighs as he glances down at his hands which are placed on top of the table. He won’t look you in the eye. He feels ashamed. Embarrassed under your understanding of who he is.

You aren’t sure what you expected of him. You don’t expect him. You don’t even know him.

You know of him. Know who he is in general. Seen his face on billboards and all across social media. Your friends used to be obsessed with him. Some of them still are. 

He’s everywhere.

And he’s here. Sitting right across from you. As if he isn’t one of the most famous people in the world.

And he didn’t fucking tell you.

Or maybe he did. He told you his name was Harry. He told you he entertained for a living. You were the one who thought that meant something else.

And you never asked any follow-up questions. 

But still…to pursue you all this time without so much of a mention?

“Why?” you ask before you can stop yourself, that anxious pit returning to your stomach for an entirely different reason. “Why didn’t you…why would you even want to meet with me?”

His head shakes once before he looks back up. “Honestly? I don’t…I don’t know. Your first text found me at a really hard time. And it was nice to…escape. Into this idea of just…being. Just you and just me. And nobody else. A bunch of cheese puns and some great phone sex.”

The recollection makes your cheeks flush. But it burns, this memory. Of knowing you did this with a stranger. With him.

“I didn’t think I’d need to tell you. At least for a while,” he admits, finger tapping against his arm. A nervous habit, you assume. “It was just some flirty texts. It wasn’t gonna go anywhere. And then…I just kept thinking about it. About you. About your voice, and your jokes, and your ability to make me feel like I had come home. Even when we’d never met.”

You stay quiet, lashes fluttering as you wait for the next part. 

He runs a hand down his face and swallows a groan. “Look, I…fuck. Sorry, I just…I don’t know. I don’t know, I wasn’t…I don’t think. When it comes to you. I guess. And I didn’t think, and I just asked you to meet me, and I guess I thought we’d just figure it out, and it’d be fine. And that me being me wouldn’t actually matter?”

“But it does,” you say, murmuring your only thought as he pauses. “It does matter. How could it not, it’s…you’re…shit.”

You press yourself back into the booth, almost as if trying to disappear from the conversation altogether. 

You don’t know what to think, what to say. What is there to say? He’s…he’s him. It’s him. And you’re you. And these ideas that you painted of a mystery man effortlessly sweeping into your life are shoved aside.

Because there’s no mystery around this man. How can there be? Everything he’s ever done, ever thought, ever wanted has been broadcast in front of the whole world.

So where does that leave you?

You feel your eyes widen as a new idea occurs to you. “Why am I here, Harry?”

He blinks. “What…what do you mean? Like…here, like the diner? Or—”

“What do you want?” you reiterate, a bit louder than you had intended. “What was all of this for? Did you just want someone to get you off? Were you bored? Did you need inspiration?”

His lips part as he straightens up. “What? No. No, I wasn’t…I wasn’t even—”

“Then what? Why am I here?”

He hesitates, a look of hurt flashing across his face. “I thought you’d want to be here.”

You scoff. Unphased by his coy attempt. “Did you? Or did you just need someone to make you feel like a big man?”

His shoulders slump. “No, that’s…look, I didn’t mean to make you feel…betrayed or anything—”

“How did you think I was gonna feel?” you retort. “What did you think was gonna happen? Did you expect me to see you and just fling myself into your arms? Thank you for gracing me with your time and attention? Feel blessed to even be in your presence?”

“No,” he just about growls, growing tired of your accusations. “Why—no. No, I just…I thought—”

“What? Thought you’d fuck with my mind a bit before sending me on my way?”

“No, I—”

“Then what? Is this some sort of…prank? Some…some…scheme to make you look good? Harry Styles and his charity case? Is Ashton Kutcher gonna pop out and tell me I’ve been punk’d?”

His lip curls up in sneer of disdain as he looks away, almost as if stung by the very insinuation. “You think I asked you here just for the fucking publicity?”

“I don’t know why you asked me here,” you repeat, leaning closer to really nail in your point. “I don’t know what you want from me—”

“I just wanted to talk,” he snaps, turning back to you. “To meet you. To…to try and start a real friendship with you.”

“Yeah? And then what?”

He hesitates. “I don’t know. I…—”

“You don’t know me,” you remind him. “We don’t know each other. In fact, all I know about you is that you were bored enough to talk to the stranger in your phone. That’s it.”

“You really think that’s all this was?”

“I don’t see what else it could have been. You’re Harry fucking Styles. You can talk to anybody you want.”

“I didn’t want anybody. I wanted you.”

Now, it’s your turn to hesitate. That self-assured way he speaks forcing your chest to grow tight. 

“Well…you had me,” you say. “You had your fun and you got what you wanted.”

“Did I?”

The booth falls silent, save for the bustling sounds of the other customers as they eat and catch-up.

You stare at him and he stares at you. 

You aren’t sure why you’re so angry with him. Aren’t sure where you really got the gall to yell at one of the world’s most beloved men.

But right now, to you, he’s not Harry Styles.

He’s just…Harry. The guy in your phone. The guy that made you laugh, and made you come, and made you realize that maybe it was okay to be happy.

You feel…used. And scared. And unsure. You aren’t sure what you wanted to happen, either, but it wasn’t…this.

Did you really expect him to just…be everything you needed him to be? Did you really assume that this random guy you sent cheese puns to would turn out to be your dream partner? That you’d meet, and fall in love, and live happily ever after?

Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But it doesn’t matter because Harry Styles can’t give you happily ever after.

He can’t be what you need him to be.

And even worse…you’ll never be what he needs you to be.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, breaking the charged silence as you suck in a sharp breath. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry you’re so…disappointed that it’s me. I’m sorry this wasn’t what you wanted.”

You feel your expression fall as your heart lurches.

“But I’m not sorry you found my number instead of his,” he continues, and despite the outrage, you sense that he means it. “I’m not sorry we got to talk. I’m not even sorry we met, I’m just…I’m sorry that I’m not who you wanted me to be.”

For a moment, you want to correct him. Want to take everything back and assure him that it’s not about who he is. 

It’s about accepting who you are.

Accepting that everything you both put into this…stops now. That it was all leading to a first hello and a final goodbye in a New York diner.

“Harry…” you begin, anxiously picking at your nails as you sigh and look for the right words. “I’m…I know you meant well. Okay? I do, I know. And I liked getting to talk to you without all the other bullshit. I liked getting to just…trust you. Getting to just be.”

He seems to perk up, growing hopeful.

“But…come on,” you continue, lip between your teeth, almost as if fighting your own response. “You…you can’t really expect us to just…carry on as friends, you know? Not when you’re…you. And I’m me.”

He gets ready to respond before you watch him think better of it, once more slumping into the booth as he snorts to himself. “Yeah.”

You regard him carefully. A hundred and one viable responses come to mind…but instead, the only thing that you choose to say is, “It was nice to meet you.”

He sits up, looking wounded and just a touch disappointed. “Come on, don’t…don’t do that. You don’t have to go.”

But you’re already sliding from the booth, refusing to look back for a final glance. 

Because if you do…you might not go.

You turn away from him and make your way for the door, vaguely aware of the sound of him standing as well. 

“Come on, wait,” you hear him call as you enter the busy sidewalk and become immersed by the large crowds. “Wait—”

And the desperation and urgency in his voice brings you to a stop as you cautiously glance over your shoulder.

He’s followed you out, ready to chase after you but freezes as a couple of girls begin to approach. 

“Oh…my god,” one of them gasps, eyes lighting up. “You’re…oh, my god.”

“Yeah, hi,” he smiles softly, his entire mood seeming to shift as he looks between them. “S’nice to meet you.”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re literally…holy shit,” the other girl squeals, already pulling out her phone. “Can I get a picture?”

He hesitates, eyes flicking over to find you, almost as if pleading with you to stay. To give him one minute. 

But soon, one minute becomes two. 

And two becomes three.

And soon, there’s at least twenty people beginning to flock toward him. They call his name, and they try to touch him, and hug him, and get his picture, and his autograph.

They take up every last second of his freetime.

And he does his best to grin through every moment of it. Does his best to make sure everybody feels seen and appreciated. He takes pictures and talks and hands out hugs like candy.

And when he finally looks back up…

You’re already gone.

Dedicated to @nof0odallowed for the original ask! 💞

Next Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 7

Previous Part:

~ iFall for Harry pt. 5

~ Full iFall for Harry Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

[puppetwoman17]

⚠️BRIEF BUT NOT INDEAPTH DISCUSSION OF R WORD⚠️

Okay I just need to put this here because I cannot stop thinking about it(which is what tumblr is for so yeah).

There’s this one Captain Marvel fanfic I read that’s unfinished. I can’t for the life of me remember where I read it or the name, but it was def memorable.

Basically Cap is accused of r wording a younger female hero(who I think ACTUALLY did it to him as Billy but never said anything) so the League gets worried that he’s been touching the YJ team and throws him out. Cap hides, not transforming and staying as Billy as a manhunt for cap begins.

Constantine is the only person who knows who he is and begs him to reveal his identity, but Billy won’t do it. He’s not mad at the JL for what they did, to John’s annoyance, but he’s still traumatized(I think there’s a scene where Aquaman beats tf out of him, like I said it’s been some time).

I’m just sitting here, thinking about Cap going into hiding and Billy just growing up watching everyone who doesn’t know absolutely hate his hero persona. There are wanted posters around the world. Heroes regularly try to find him. The few times he’s mentioned by one on the news it’s with total disdain.

His sister and Freddy are completely outraged by this but Billy can’t help but be understanding. It’s not like he HAS to be understanding for him to be a morally good character. He just keeps thinking in favor of the JL. He tells them that, realistically, no one’s going to NOT believe someone when they make such claims, especially if the apparent perpetrator looks like he could throw a tank. ESPECIALLY x2 if the person who made the claim is a teenage girl.

How would Billy live his life, only being able to help from the shadows? How would magic users cope with KNOWING, but being unable to say anything because it’s the ONE time their champion has ever given them an order? How would it feel like for the JL and YJ? Believing that they did the right thing, but still feeling a gaping hole in their ranks?

They’d chant that it was right, it was right, it was right. But why does it feel so wrong?

Would the JL ever find out? Or would Billy have to gain the courage to tell them? Or would someone else entirely spill the beans, whether to use it for their own gain, or just be so completely tired of their self-sacrificial champion?

How would the JL react? How guilty would aquaman feel? How horrified would they feel when Billy starts defending them instead of asking them to step a few paces back? How would they feel if he began ostracizing himself if he went back to work with them? Not being able to look anyone in the eye?

Now you can see why I can’t stop thinking about it😅

[starshipsofstarlord]

“I’ve changed. Give me another chance.”

Summary-> Kai returns from Hell, realising that he has a lot of making up to do with the woman that he loves, although she doesn’t want to give him her forgiveness, he isn’t deserving of it after the destruction that he released (1.6k)

Warnings-> angst, mentions of death, loss of magic

kai parker works other tvd works main masterlist

He could feel the judgement through her eyes, it made him feel sick - guilty. There was nothing he could do take back his past actions, but he could be better for his future ones. She was always the one that claimed that he wasn’t an abomination, but now she was looking at him as though she had never thought that, as though she was like everybody else.

“Damon, how could you?” Her voice was hoarse as she squinted towards the vampire, exasperated by the situation before her very eyes. It showed that she was far past caring and had finally fallen down the hole of thinking Kai Parker was a monster. She’d been there at the wedding, she saw the destruction that he had caused, the carnage that had came from his endless chaos. There was bitterness on her tongue as she looked at him.

“Y/n, this isn’t about you and him,” it never had been, Kai thought, “we’re all trying to stop Cade. Mister lactose intolerant here included,” Damon cringed as he remembered Kai’s stomach problem in the diner, “so we might as well work together. It’s nothing personal and he’s the only one that can bring Elena back.” Of course, he had to be getting something out of it other than defeating the most dangerous enemy that they had faced.

Y/n was friends with Elena, but that had obviously never mattered to Kai, he only wanted to cause an outrage of pain, and she was the one still suffering from it. Her y/e/c eyes rolled as she crossed her arms, the only emotion boiling in her body being outrage. “And what, he’s going to be the one to turn me human again after I died along with his sister and countless others? You saved me Damon, and for that I am grateful, but this… this I’m sure as hell not.”

Kai’s eyes widened from her words, staring at her. Not only had he massacred the last of his coven and snapped the necks of vampires, but he had killed the only person he held any emotion for. It felt like he were being staked in the heart, he knew how it felt to be a witch without power, but now y/n wasn’t even that. She wasn’t a witch any longer because she had no time to heal, and she had succumbed to death with poison in her system. She’d turned, and he hadn’t even been there to hold her for her final moments.

“Y-y/n…” there was a lump within his throat, making it rather unbearable to even breathe. He had told her that she shouldn’t have gone to the wedding of Alaric and Jo, but she had never been one to listen. And then she had tried to stop him… It was all his fault, their powers collided as she grew weak, blood pouring out from the wound in her stomach from the splintered roof, and then she watched Damon kill him.

There wasn’t a single thing that he could do to make things right, he realised that. She should never have trusted him, otherwise dying from his fault wouldn’t have pained her so much. They’d been the Romeo and Juliet of the present, sneaking into the forbidden depths of romance despite the resent that her friends held towards him. And now that was over, and Kai knew that it would be a tough road to even get close to where they had once been.

“Save it heretic, there’s not a single thing that you could ever say to fix the damage that you caused. But we can all work together for the greater good.” A scoff escaped from y/n’s mouth at Damon’s words, followed by a roll of her y/e/c eyes. Damon was always so selfish, thinking of his closer circle of his brother and his lover rather than those that he called his friends. He should have understood y/n’s angry despair, he had experienced the same new bloodlust that chipped at his humanity.

But he had never experienced his entire beliefs ripped away from him; y/n’s magic was gone, and there was not a single route that she could go do to resurrect it. It had been the biggest part of who she was, and it was gone, much like how she wanted Kai to be. He’d betrayed her, broke her heart, and worst of all, caused the downfall of her existence. She had to hate him, otherwise she couldn’t stand herself for feeling anything else for him. “The greater good would be detaching his head from the rest of his body again.” She said ferociously, nostrils flaring as her breaths were laboured from her fuelled aggression.

“Ouch.” Kai muttered, feeling a pang in his heart from her words. He’d never wanted to harm her in the slightest, but for the majority of his life he had never gotten what he wanted. He wanted to beg her for forgiveness, and whilst he knew that he didn’t deserve it, he couldn’t help but allow the plea to fall from his lips. “I’ve changed. Give me another chance.” For a moment he wished he had said not a single thing as y/n sped towards him, boiling tears restrained within her eyes. She were vulnerable in his presence, Damon knew that as he stood in the background as a watcher. He wanted to intervene, to protect his friend who had become heartbroken because of this monster, but he understood that she had to do this - had to put him in his place.

“Damon, could you give us a moment?” What?! Y/n had to be delusional if she thought he would willingly leave her alone with Kai Parker, the man that had caused him to turn one of his best friends into a blood sucking creature. She’d supposed to have fulfilled the closest to a human life out of all of their friends, but all because of him she hadn’t gotten the luxury that they had all wished for. He was worried to leave her alone with Kai, she’d either fall down into the depths of her unreasonable emotions for him again, or kill him, and as much as Damon hated to admit it, they needed him at the moment.

“Are you sure?” He tried to read her eyes but she wouldn’t meet his eyes, instead her glare was directed at the heretic that had broken her heart all over again. Y/n was always and had always been one stubborn girl, she’d defended her relationship with Kai when it had first become knowledge to all of her friends, but she had always been loyal to those that cared most about her. Damon wouldn’t allow her growth after her death to be jeopardised all because of a sociopath that had feelings for her. Finally her eyes reached his, they were drenched with the pain and sorrow that her old lover had caused, and Damon finally understood that whatever she wanted to say to him or do to him was necessary. “Okay.”

Damon sent her a comforting smile, before finally and adamantly leaving the room. Kai felt a swell of hope rise in his chest when she looked at him, perhaps he could redeem himself in her eyes one final time. Kai took another dangerous step towards her, craving her personal space to be wrapped around him. “Can you ever forgive me?” His voice cracked, she had been the only person not to see him as a monster and he had messed that up to. It was the reason why a person dared not give a cat a mouse, it was life threatening, and she had died all because of him. She frowned, staring up at him with her stunning y/e/c eyes, shooting daggers into his form as though he were the enemy instead of Cade.

“Not in a million years.” She answered hun truthfully, gnawing on her lip as she held back the tears that had formed in her eyes. “It will take forever for me to ever want you back in my life, after what you did, I lost myself. You’re so damn selfish,” her hands pounded on his chest, in her attempts not to break down from the sheer anguish that his presence made her feel. “If you had just let bygones be bygones, there may have been a chance for us, but you couldn’t just let it go for once in your life, or for me. I know that I couldn’t have stopped you from killing Jo, when you set your mind to something it’s a fixation, and it doesn’t matter who gets in your way.”

“I’ll wait then.” Kai spoke seriously, daringly holding her elbows in his hands, staring honestly into her face. His eyes traced every crease that her confused frown burdened her face formed, taking in every detail even though she would never age again. “Forever will be here before I know it, and until then, I’ll do whatever you want, just to ease the pain that I have caused. I never had the intention to take anything from you, much less your reason to live, but I will try my best every day, just for you.” He should have known at the wedding that she would have entangled herself in the crossfire, and that she would have tried to stop him.

Y/n deserved so much better than the pain that he had given him, but as she had stated, he was selfish, and he needed her. He missed every fibre of her being that had tried to send him on the right track, but here they both were, monsters in their own flesh, mixed emotions moulded between them like a wall. If he’d had any sense, he would have understood that y/n’s stubbornness and loyalty had enhanced, and neither laid towards him, not after his murderous schemes. But he was adamant to change that, and fix himself into a better man for her along the way. He’d make her death have reason, so that after forever, they would have their fresh chance together.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

for the kiss prompts - a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling + geraskier, pretty please 🥺

Jaskier has never been one to suffer stage fright. Since the first time he gave an impromptu performance at one of his parents’ banquets at the age of seven, he’s soaked up the spotlight at any chance he can get. There’s nothing he delights in more than having a crowded tavern or ballroom watching him with starry eyes, hanging onto his every word. He knows he’s good at what he does, a far cry from the boy who used to get bread pelted at his head while he sang about hags and abortions.

Except that as he stands behind the stage at the Oxenfurt Music Festival, listening to a pair of Nazairi troubadours sing a lovely duet, his insides roil with the same queasy nervousness he’s carried with him all day. He glances over at Geralt to make sure the witcher doesn’t notice. Geralt is leaning against the wall, looking remarkably stoic for a man who has been dragged to a music festival entirely against his will. 

Jaskier can’t let him know how nervous he is, not when Geralt took on two wyverns singlehandedly only three days ago. The fact that Jaskier, who has been a traveling bard for years, who has faced far scarier things than a crowd of onlookers (usually while cowering behind Geralt, but his point stands) has stage fright is too mortifying to admit. Luckily, Jaskier is excellent at keeping his feelings under wraps after years of traveling with his witcher. He’s sure Geralt has no idea.

“You’re nervous,” Geralt says.

Fuckity fuck.

“Nervous?” Jaskier breaks off in a monologue about how he lost the Student Bardic Competition to Valdo Marx his final year due to trickery and biased judging. “I’m not nervous! Merely excited to claim yet another in my long list of accolades.”

“You stink of anxiety.”

Jaskier just manages to resist the urge to sniff himself. “Why, thank you, Geralt. How kind of you to say. And here I thought you liked this new perfume.”

Geralt just stares at him, unimpressed.

Jaskier sighs. “I seem to have come down with the tiniest case of stage fright.”

“Stage fright?” Geralt arches an eyebrow. “But you perform all the time.”

“Not at places like this.” Jaskier waves his hand in the direction of the stage.

“You just told me in detail about all seven times you performed here before. You said you won five times.”

“And it would have been all seven, if Valdo Marx weren’t a cad and a cheat.” Jaskier puffs up in remembered outrage. “But that was the Student Bardic Festival. Everyone expects the acts there to be a little bit shit. Melitele help them, but my classmates didn’t give me much of a run for their money, save for Valdo and Essi. This is the first time I’ve performed in a professional competition.”

“And that’s why you’re nervous.”

“Yes!” Jaskier throws up his hands in exasperation. “I know this isn’t a wyvern or an angry mob, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of thousands of people!”

Geralt gets an expression on his face like he’s valiantly refraining from pointing out that Jaskier doesn’t normally care about making a fool of himself. “You perform all the time.”

“For drunks in taverns who won’t notice if I make a bunk of the pronunciation of an elven ballad or courtiers who wouldn’t know a wrong note if it hit them in the face. Many of these people are trained musicians themselves who have come from all over the Continent to be here today. I have to be perfect.”

“Then be perfect.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier moans and slaps his hands over his eyes. “Have you ever heard of Elsa Svensen?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Of course you haven’t! She was a cautionary tale when I was at Oxenfurt, a rising star in the bardic circuit until she tried to sing The Six Swans at the Lan Exeter Bardic Festival.” At the blank look on his witcher’s face, Jaskier elaborates. “It’s a famously difficult ballad in Elder. Very long, lots of tricky notes. She butchered it so badly that she was laughed off stage! Suffice to say, there was an unfortunate mispronunciation and she sang a line about the hero committing unspeakable acts with a donkey in front of the entirety of Lan Exeter, including the king and queen. It ended her career. Rumor has it that she changed her name and is now working as a traveling player.”

Geralt doesn’t look suitably horrified, in Jaskier’s opinion.

“A traveling player, Geralt!” Jaskier practically shrieks, which isn’t good for his voice, but he can’t stop himself. “I can’t act! There isn’t a single troupe of traveling players that would have me. I’ll starve. Gods, I should never have let Essi talk me into this. I’m too young to live in disgrace. Can you go out there and tell them that a horrible tragedy has befallen me and an evil witch has stolen my voice? Ooh, yes, say I’ve ruined her for all other men and this is my punishment. Do you think we can find an actual witch in—”

He doesn’t realize Geralt is approaching him until the witcher presses a brief kiss to his lips.

Jaskier blinks, surprised. Geralt isn’t one for displays of affection where anyone else might see. “What are you—”

Geralt kisses him again. Jaskier can feel the curl of his lips.

“Geralt, this is—”

Another kiss, this one accompanied by Geralt nipping at his lower lip.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says through another kiss. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Trying to shut you up.”

“How dare—”

Geralt kisses him again. “You were working yourself up.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, then realizes he was just plotting to find an actual witch to steal his voice in order to get out of a performance. Perhaps Geralt has a point. “Right.”

“You know Elder too well to accidentally sing about donkeys. And if you do manage to fuck up so badly that you ruin your career, I won’t let you starve.”

Jaskier melts into him. “Geralt, that’s the sweetest—”

“Because you’re right, you’d be a shit traveling player.” Geralt’s lips quirk.

“You—”

Geralt kisses him again, slow and sweet, and Jaskier feels the last bit of tension drain out of him.

“Jaskier the Bard!” a woman’s voice calls from the stage. “Also known as the Dandelion!”

“That’s you.” Geralt pushes him towards the stage. “You’ll do great, Jask.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at him. “How can I not, after a sweet pep talk like that?”

“Hm. Probably not as great as Valdo Marx did earlier.” A full-on smile spreads over Geralt’s face at Jaskier’s outrage. “But we’ll see.”

And just for that, Jaskier gives the best damn performance of his life. Which is probably what Geralt intended, the terrible man.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

Kiss prompts

[receival]

warrior of darkness starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from shadowbringers, the third expansion of square enix's final fantasy 14. part 1.

sounds like tedious work. but not as tedious as waiting around, i suppose.

look how many people there are!

well, if it isn’t the hero of the hour.

stay with me. focus on my voice.

oh, do not look at me so.

we did everything right, everything that was asked of us, and still - still it came to this.

your time has not yet come.

something vague … yet urgent … calls me to action once more.

every face in this city i know. yours i do not.

pray forgive my less-than-cordial welcome.

come with me. i will answer whatever questions you have when we are somewhere more private.

do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused?

i can only beg your forgiveness - matters here forced my hand.

you don’t have that whiff of indolence about you like some folk i’ve met.

we can speak here without fear of being overheard.

what say you? have i earned your trust for the moment, at least?

are you there, my friend?

now, a full and frank discussion in the privacy of my study would seem to be in order …

i’m going to guess you’re new to our fair city?

i see you’re no stranger to honest labor.

should you find yourself confused by the local language or customs, i’ll be here to answer your questions.

i understand it was something of a chore, but ‘twas necessary that you grasp these things before we proceed.

… i am not familiar with that name. is there something i should know?

mayhap we can revisit that mystery another time.

considering the ... circumstances of our meeting, you would be forgiven for doubting my version of events.

i promise i will not rest until i have found a way to help you return home.

you came from beyond, didn’t you? you came from beyond the rift!

what a brave and reckless and marvelous thing you did.

after careful consideration, i have decided to grant you my assistance.

make a pact with me, and the fun can begin.

pray rest and recuperate, and we shall reconvene anon.

we are denied the comforting blanket of night, but may peaceful dreams attend you nonetheless.

i am a shade, cursed to do naught but drift.

this world is beyond saving - like those who try to save it.

do me a favor. be careful out there. this world has had its fill of heroes.

me? i was more worried about you.

i thought i’d lost you.

i may be a stranger to this world, but i will not stand idly by and let innocent people be slaughtered.

what say you, old friend? hungry for another adventure?

thank you again. you saved my life.

there’s naught to be had here but cobwebs and memories.

just look at it … can you imagine a more beautiful city?

disapprove ...? it frustrates me, certainly. that is only part of it, though. the whole situation makes me uneasy.

however unjust this system seems to me, if these people claim to be content with their lot, it is hardly my place to criticize their choices.

i am not so naive as to think there is some miraculous solution to all of this.

there has to be a better way.

'tis fortunate that you arrive when you did, (name).

… is there something i can do for you, friend?

someone must have been eavesdropping on our conversation.

no one here gives a damn about me.

i’m giving you a chance, nothing more. what comes of it is entirely up to you.

i do not regret my decision ... yet i will admit that a part of me wonders if it was for the best.

i thought for certain i was dead.

redemption is beyond us.

‘tis good to see you back. you were taking so long i began to worry something had happened.

what then is a man of mercy to do, but offer the sinner another way to show his contrition?

what in the blazes did you do? they have the entire city looking for you!

i am sorry, (name). there are more important matters to which i must attend.

pray press me no further. i am leaving.

the outrage i witnessed must not go unanswered.

thank you, my friend ... for staying at my side through this whole sordid endeavor.

… (name)? it feels like an age since i last saw you!

i had it under control!

i knew you’d turn up sooner or later, but i had been hoping for sooner.

they either perish … or are warped into mindless abominations.

that’s an exaggeration! and i don’t sound like that, either!

i’ve no doubts she deserves all the admiration she gets. just as you do.

what, and twiddle my thumbs while you work yourself to death?

sooner or later, every single one of them will turn.

i feel just as helpless as before. no matter how hard i fight, it's never enough.

you needn’t have gone through the trouble.

in a place like this, you learn to take what moments of happiness you can get.

it’s never easy, ending a life you’ve cared for.

without a body, we can’t even give her a proper burial.

you weren’t hurt at all, were you?

hurt? there wasn’t even a fight. i was too late. too slow …

you can’t blame yourself for things beyond your control.

forgive me, (name). i couldn’t stay there a moment longer.

(name)? you’ve gone pale …

… i’m fine. we should keep moving.

we were too slow to save them …

there are … things which we can ill afford to lose.

forgive me. i fear the events of the day may have taken their toll.

how quickly you have justified my faith in you.

would you be so kind as to conceal your involvement in this endeavor for the time being?

i expect to be told the whole truth of it one day.

please. i wish to be left alone for awhile.

i promise to find you later, when i feel myself again.

sleep well, (name). i hope untroubled dreams find you.

these are my "private" quarters …

it’s when you charge ahead trying to save someone else that you end up losing those you love.

not that you need telling. i’ll bet you've lost plenty. but i wonder ... what will it cost you this time?

i don't remember when it was that i learned regret wasn’t worth the bother.

you get numb to it all over the years. the lost comrades, the broken promises, the abandoned principles - just more nagging burdens to ignore.

stay your weapon. i am not your enemy.

they tracked me down, and conscripted me to their cause.

i have more questions, but now is not the time.

you are come at a good time. as you may have heard, we have something of a quandary on our hands.

‘twas inevitable they would come knocking. the only question was how soon.

the world is dead, and writhe as we might, like maggots in its rotting corse, it will not be reborn.

i waste my breath. you have made your stance clear.

am i imagining things, or did he just stare straight at us?

while i am grateful for your support, my lord - i cannot in good conscience put your people in harm’s way.

there is, however, much to say, and precious little time in which to say it.

might i trouble you for a word, (name)? outside?

(name)! what brings you here?

i do not wish to show our hand unless absolutely necessary.

so long as hope burns in our hearts, we will fight on regardless.

there may come a day when all hope seems lost. but even should the rest of the world give in to despair - we shall not.

trust you to spoil the moment!

yes? what do you require of me?

there you are, (name)! mayhap you could lend me a hand!

you certainly took your time.

let’s rejoin the others and quit this place.

all this trouble because of me … i’m so sorry …

save your apologies until after we’ve escaped.

it’s quiet. too quiet.

you will regret coming here.

it is for your own protection.

you are made of sterner stuff than the rest. but will it be enough?

as if i didn’t have enough on my hands already …

mayhap there is another way. one which does not require bloodshed.

we should be safe enough here.

it’s good to see you again, my friend. i don't know about you, but it feels like years since last we met.

this is not the sort of place one visits on a whim.

you really have outdone yourself this time.

i’m sorry. thank you for saving me.

why can’t i remember?

we are now, i am sorry to say, entirely at their mercy.

[alexanderlightweight]

please can we see magnus in cat form whilst alec dote on him in human form. does the dynamic change? alec always around his neck ☺️

the dynamic changes a bit but not quite the way that's probably anticipated? alec adores magnus' cat form and loves cuddling magnus like that while he's human as well as a dragon

i hope you enjoy!

<3 lumine

—

Magnus wakes to find Alexander’s very human head on his belly and the feeling of his claws retracting.

Magnus chuffs because he thought Alexander had already gone over this fascination. There is a moment of silence and then hazel eyes blink guilelessly at him, completely unrepentant.

Magnus feels the soft pads of his paws being played with again and his claws unsheathe as Alexander smirks at him. Alexander has been petulantly jealous of Magnus’ ability to sheathe his claws and also — in Alexander’s own blunt words — ‘the fact that he didn’t get squishy buttons for his claws’.

Magnus had tried to remind him at the time that cats were known for stealth and dragons were… well, they were dragons. Alexander hadn’t seemed to think that was a good reason for him to miss out on toebeans and since then, has even gone so far as to try to paint Magnus’ claws while he was asleep.

The fact of the matter is that Magnus finds the entire situation a little charming. There is something incredibly sweet about how Alexander can’t actually stop praising Magnus or admiring him.

Even when he’s sulking about his own lack of toebeans and retractable claws.

Magnus chuffs again and reaches out, nuzzling Alexander’s face and scenting him, breathing in deeply before licking the entirety of Alexander’s face.

There is a disgruntled murmur and then Alexander rolls next to Magnus, still holding his paw and playing with the soft pads with a look of concentration. Magnus merely settled back down and lets his eyes slowly blinks closed.

Alexander blinks back at him, copying the motion and looking pleased when it earns him a purr. There’s a moment where Magnus things that he’ll shift and come back to cuddle but then his treasure just curls close, face pressed to Magnus fur and tucking himself under the paw he’d been playing with.

“Like this.” Alexander murmurs and his treasure is a man of few words on a good day, but Magnus is learning that the more he talks to Alexander, the more words are offered in return. As if Alexander is relearning how to converse as they go along and well, perhaps he is.

There’s a moment of content quiet and Magnus is about to fall asleep when Alexander whispers, “good kitty.”

It’s with mock outrage that Magnus gets his paws on Alexander and rolls them over, setting all of his mass on Alexander’s back and pinning him down. It’s with rough swipes of his tongue that Magnus grooms the nape of Alexander’s neck and the hair curling around his ears.

“Magnus! If I’m dirty I’ll just take a bath.” Is the protest from his treasure, muffled from where Magnus is calmly pinning Alexander down. Magnus simply growls in response and continues for a moment before he gets his teeth gently in the shirt Alexander is wearing.

Honestly it’s a surprise to find him dressed but it makes it easier as uses magic to reinforce the fabric before he drags Alexander with him. It’s a little more difficult to scruff Alexander like this, but Magnus is not above trying.

“Magnus I’m not a carcass.” Is the next complaint as Alexander remains limp, even while being dragged and Magnus snorts and lets himself into the den. It’s a soft room with magic contained in every single article in the room. It means that Magnus can simply toss his captured prey onto the floor and know he’ll be safe.

It also means that Magnus can then lay on his boy’s chest and smirk down at him, tail flicking against Alexander’s ankle as Magnus settles down and claims the perfect napping spot.

After all, cats enjoy games as well.

[welovemonstergirls]

My thoughs on the recent Skullgirls censorship

Okay. So. I’m not the kind of guy that’s gonna call anyone a pedophile or a neo nazi or a racist for raising a fuss at the devs cutting out what they did.

I am, however, the kind of guy that’s gonna call everyone that’s throwing a conniption fit over a few cosmetic changes that effect NOTHING in the grand scheme of the game a pathetic, whiny, entitled crybaby BITCH for being so outraged about absolute NON-ISSUES.

What are you losing from not being able to stare at Filia’s ass in that one cutscene anymore? What’s being lost because they removed some armbands from the Egrets? This doesn’t make SENSE. All they changed was minor cosmetic stuff!

Filia’s panty shots? Who cares?! They’re not cutting out any of the stuff that makes people like the game, she’s still baring her midriff and wearing a belt in place of a skirt, that hasn’t changed! The sexualized stuff is still there! So Cerebella was censored in a FEW story shots where she’s in a non-consentinal situation where she’s literally about to be murdered or eaten, she’s still flashing her underwear in her actual gameplay! Parasoul, Ms. Fortune, Valentine, Eliza and Black Dahlia are all RIGHT THERE! Your precious sexual content hasn’t gone ANYWHERE, so this entire complain is just WORTHLESS and PATHETIC. You can’t handle the game being two percent less horny so you need to get all up in arms and review bomb the game in an active effort to hurt it because of some minor changes?!

The Egrets armbands make perfect sense! Maybe when the game was initially pitched they were meant to be something more Nazi-esque, but that simply isn’t the case anymore! EVERY time we see the Egrets in the modern age, they are portrayed as GOOD GUYS. Parasoul is a righteous ruler that genuinely wants to do what’s best for her people, and the men she leads are the only people in power that are FIGHTING FOR THE PEOPLE. They don’t want to have their biggest force of GOOD associated with LITERAL NAZI SYMBOLISM. Why is that such a hard thing for people to grasp?! I keep saying people claim that the Egrets are supposed to be the bad guys. No the fuck they’re not, what are you even watching to think that?!

Big Band’s story mode, that I can kinda get, it was very important to his overall character, that is the one thing I won’t fault anyone for being upset over. At the same time though, I get why they did it. It’s a very topical issue that they don’t personally feel well equipped to handle, and it’s possibly a bit too real for their fun action fighting game where a cartoon character fights a ninja nurse. I don’t agree with this choice, but I can understand it.

 The concept art... I can also kiiiiind of get, I feel like if they’re gonna delete guest art they can at least replace it with new ones so that the fans are still getting SOMETHING out of it, but I can see what prompted the change. Like, them wanting to censor the fanservice on Filia and JUST Filia is not a big deal! If you don’t want to play the game with both hands, just pick Parasoul or Valentine ffs. And how often do you even go into the art gallery to look at images you can just as easily get online? This is another non-issue that doesn’ have anything to do with the game itself.

Finally, the Soviet Announcer voice pack. ...That voice pack was literally voiced by their fucking ABUSER. I can understand them wanting the voice of someone that hurt them OUT of the game they’re working on. Even if they got a different guy to voice it, it’s still a bit that was MADE by their abuser, Mike Z used it in his tutorials for Tager and Potemkin and it became a running gag. That voice pack is a literal reminder of someone who hurt them. So stop crying about “Muh soviet russia pack doh!” and accept the fact that they don’t want to hear his voice because it brings back painful memories for them. It’s not that hard. And as for Ben’s alternate voice pack? It’s literally based around sexual misconduct. So yeah.

I’m just pissed off that my favorite franchise of all time is suffering because some entitled, whiny little puke stains can’t handle minute changes that effect next to NOTHING about the game itself. Like a few cosmetic differences is the absolute end of the world. If you’re like that and you’re reading this? Stop crying like a little bitch, put on your big boy pants and accept the fact that these changes are LAUGHABLY MINOR. The designs are still the same. The story is still the same. The gameplay is still the same. The characters are still the same. The art style is still the same. EVERYTHING THAT MATTERS IS THE SAME. WHO. CARES?!

[hiccupfound]

On Hermione killing Draco in Jagged

i’ve always wanted to give my explanation for this, but i fell out of fandom before i got the chance. tonight i was scrolling on my fandom tumblr, trying to find a gif to show my brother and sister in law, and i passed a jagger excerpt. one thing led to another, and i ended up reading the chapter after draco came back. (ch 30 i think?)

i know that some people were truly outraged on my choice to have draco murdered. a lot of people claimed it was out of character, and there’s a good amount of evidence for that, sure, but i think there’s a fair amount of evidence to show that it’s just as much in character as well.

originally, draco was supposed to live. originally, drarry was going to be end game. originally, abraxas was never supposed to come back to 1998, but sometimes you write the narrative and sometimes it writes itself. jagged was the story that taught me that maybe i’m not an outline type of author, because the final product deviated from the original idea so much that it was more frustrating than helpful.

admittedly, very much of the writing in jagged was therapeutic for me. a lot of hermione’s inner dialogue, self hatred, and “selflessness” are things i either see in myself or wish i could be. she’s far from a perfect character, but she’s powerful, level headed and smart. she doesn’t have many weaknesses revealed, not even when we spend half the story in her point of view. tom makes note of that several times when we get to his pov— that he has hermione on this pedestal, that she seems like some sort of impenetrable force.

but at the end of the day— hermione has dealt with extremely traumatizing situations that she had spent the better part of a year repressing. not only that, she was thrown back into 1998 quite suddenly, and even though we don’t see it in tom’s pov, it’s not hard to imagine how triggering that must be. hermione can put on a mask of indifference but at the end of the day that’s all it is— a mask.

i knew very early on that i was choosing the route of a dark order. the order has always been dark (its war, there’s really no moral high ground, despite what harry was brainwashed into thinking).

i felt very particular about how i wanted to pull this off. i didn’t want it to seem sudden or out of the blue. i also didn’t necessarily want “dark” to mean evil, because i feel like in jagged each and every character can be made out to be evil if you break down their actions in different lights. (this is a completely different essay)

draco’s betrayal was always a very dark spot for hermione. it brought on torture that she wore as proof of his disloyalty in her skin everyday. regardless of his actions or his orders, she thought this for years. she built resentment on it. is it logical for this resentment to play a part in her decision once she knows the truth? absolutely not. but that’s the thing, the moment draco steps into grimmauld place, logic has taken a backseat in hermione’s brain. she’s riding purely on emotions. she knows this, and yes, she has the wherewithal to recollect herself if she wanted to. but she doesn’t. it’s like she told remus. draco is her line.

second, hermione would have never, ever watched draco be tortured. damn the plan, damn the betrayal. she would have died to stop it. she would have gotten them both killed, probably. the point is, she couldn’t have lived with herself if she stood for hours and watched it happen. and with that knowledge, and knowing the pain she suffered through and that draco was able to stomach watching it the entire time… well, it was enough for her to not want him around anymore.

also, this was a last stitch effort for remus to prove his loyalty to her. i didn’t realize it at the time, but hermione and remus’s relationship mirrors jude’s and her step father’s from the cruel prince quite a bit. if you haven’t read it, (what are you waiting for?) the main thing you need to know is that they have an endlessly complicated, painful relationship wherein the love they have for each other is not stronger than their need to fight for what they believe is the greater good.

hermione viewed remus like a father, but that wasn’t a one sided relationship. remus loved hermione endlessly like he would his own child.

yet he still took a “calculated” risk. she was tortured and almost killed because of a decision he made. a decision he never planned on telling her about.

remus says he would do it again. and hermione knows it’s the truth, and in some ways she respects him for it. she’ll always be a soldier at heart. but it also solidifies his spot in her life as someone that will never, ever be family to her again. because hermione wouldn’t risk remus’s life for anything.

so she uses draco as leverage. remus sees draco as mostly innocent. his life lies in remus’s hands. he has to choose. hermione’s side, or draco’s life. it’s vindictive, yes, but hermione has just spent the past 4 years using manipulation to get what she wants. as a reader, it’s not a side of her we get to see a lot (aside from when she’s torturing michael, which admittedly, was meant to be foreshadow to this exact moment)

as an author i could have done a better job throwing in more unpredictable or emotional behavior on her part. but at the time, i really wanted this to be a turning point, not just for the order, but for hermione herself. this is kind of her first selfish decision in a long time. the first time she chooses something simply because it’s what she wants. as readers you may say, “her selfish act was to take a life?!” and to that i say, yes. yes it was.

i wanted hermione to be irrational just because. i wanted her to take her power and abuse it a little. we read stories about strong female characters with endless powers who fight and win big wars just to settle at the end in the name of morality or being the better person.

i didn’t want hermione to settle. i wanted hermione angry because she deserved to be.

of course there are arguments against why she didn’t, and of course logicially killing draco wasn’t the decision that made sense. but that’s the thing, hermione is a flawed character. she doesn’t (and won’t) make all her decisions based on logic.

women deserve to be angry. women don’t need to forgive.

jagged hermione doesn’t need to explain why she wanted draco dead, but as an author, i wanted to.

[sunflowernyx]

Chapter 1 I New Chapter

“I don’t know what’s crazier…”

Mulder leans in, chest to steering wheel, and squints through the window. There’s a crossing somewhere around here, he knows, but—

Lights appear out of the heavy fog and he slams the breaks hard enough both he and Scully bounce in their seats.

Stupid heatwave.

“Driving in this damn fog,” Scully continues, gasping and grabbing at her seatbelt. “Or going on a wild quest to really prove aliens exist. Mulder, that was a green light!”

She turns in her seat, her hair flying out wildly. She is furious.

“Says the woman with the telepathic child,” he counters cheekily to direct from his mishap.

“We are not talking about psychic abilities here,” she snaps. “Why are you stopping?”

All around them the world is draped in white. The snow hasn’t entirely evaporated from lawns and side-walks yet, but it’s a close thing. All the vapor hangs in the suddenly much warmer air, the contrast brought on by what he can only assume is an unnatural heatwave. Climate change.

Winters never used to be dangerous like this.

“You know, the interesting thing about you, Scully?” He asks, misdirecting from his colour-blindness once more as he starts up the motor again. “When you have definitive proof of something you no longer treat it as extraordinary or fantastical.”

She turns her face away and he wishes it was safe enough to follow the motion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she huffs. “I’d still like to catalogue it. But I’m not going to put her through an MRI at her age. And that still doesn’t prove the rest of your, frankly, outrageous claims.”

“Which is why,” he says, safely sliding into a parking lot two blocks from their actual destination and singing, “we’re here.”

He waves Scully around to the back of the car, and they each done one of two backpacks he intends to fill with evidence and paperwork.

The lid of the trunk falls, the lock clicks, and Mulder pats his pocket one last time to check that the stiletto is safely within his reach before waving her along across to the building on the other side of the street.

The fog weaves between trees and buildings, covering cars and eating at the edges of the world, leaving the sensation that no one else exists, that all that is left in the world is ghosts.

Mulder hates it.

He prefers the howling winds and confrontational frost of New England. Here the cold creeps in slowly, through cracks and openings, and the heat seeps out — like water he cannot hold in his hands.

It causes an oppressive silence that is difficult, if not impossible to break, so that even Scully remains a silent shadow amongst the clouds.

It’s the gunmen that saves him.

A screech like a broken fax runs through his ear, and Mulder almost jumps out of his skin.

“— you there, Mulder?”

“Jesus!” He exclaims, tugging the ear-piece momentarily away from himself.

Scully jumps and Mulder waves the tech at her.

“Are you trying to make me deaf, guys?” He demands, stuffing it back into his ear.

“It’s this fog, Mulder,” Byers explains. “It’s weakening the connection.”

“So much for modern technology,” Mulder mutters darkly.

Beside him, Scully smiles.

“Or,” Frohike jumps in. “Next time pick a better day to impress your chickadee.”

“Shut up, Frohike!”

“Ouch. She that pretty?”

“No—“ he stops himself, glances at Scully and amends. “Yes, but that’s not the point. I didn’t predict the fog and the blockers are already up. Do you want them to be found?”

“Of course not,” comes Langley’s drawl. “So get to it, Casanova.”

Mulder shakes his head and is glad for his own inability to remember two headsets so Scully can only hear his side of the conversation - and she doesn’t seem that interested.

She’s lifting her head to take in the fertility clinic once more as it comes into view across the parking lot.

Out front where it faces the rest of Germantown, Zeus Genetics is a shining golden block of concrete, lit up like a beacon of hope for the future. But at the back it is a hulking shadow that breaks apart the white mist and draws grey lines into the world. A pair of cars remain parked outside, but otherwise there is no sign of life.

“That’s the plan,” he sighs.

In his right ear Byers lists the cameras they have to be aware of to the background rhythm of Langley’s typing, breaking apart the buildings security from the inside.

“Looks like this mist is both a blessing and a curse.”

“Come on, guys,” Mulder says, while Scully taps her foot impatiently at the door.

The light by the key turns green.

“And voila,” Frohike crows.

Mulder’s hand finds her back and the door closes behind them.

Continue reading here

[it-happened-one-fic]

Introduction to Dance - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: A gift for you that no one asked for. My very own dance AU. This is an introduction post but it is also a fic and intro to the AU. I cannot claim to have come up with this AU on my own, my Mom and sister helped a lot in the formulation of it. Be warned, prefect is a female this time simply because I felt like writing a girl prefect. I hope everyone enjoys. You can view this is a very odd present from me to you. EDIT: I almost forgot! I can't not claim to have come up with this AU on my own. My mom and sister both helped me quite a bit in coming up with the specifics of how everything would work and choosing what dances to use.

If you would like to read more this AU the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Masterlist.

Type: Dance Au/Introduction fic

Warning: Crowley

Word count: 981

“Dance, the rhythmic expression of music known to all. 

Swaying Bodies….

Swirling Forms….

A Passionate Promenade!

Become a poem given life and music given form.

Should you reach out and claim it, this art is yours.

Press forward!

Do not Hesitate!

For the way of dancing is an arduous one,

But we walk it nonetheless with glorious dreams of rhythmic grandeur.

So come forth and confront

Your Introduction to Dance!”

Crowley gazed at us, the entire student body of NRC, with gleaming eyes from under his mask as he finished his grand speech.

Despite the impressive amount of showmanship and excessive pomp he’d displayed, we remained unmoved. Everyone stared back at him with lackluster gazes that were punctuated by occasional yawns. It perfectly relayed our cumulative lack of interest in Crowley’s newest scheme.

Slightly put out by the less-than-thrilled reaction he received, Crowley coughed lightly into his fist before resuming his speech. 

“In the hopes of better preparing you all for your many and varied future walks of life, we have decided that mandatory dance lessons will be held. Each of you must take and pass at least one class, or you will be held back.”

This time he was met with a more emotionally charged reaction. Primarily complaints and loud protests that had him attempting to calm the crowd, “Now, now. I understand your hesitancy, but there is nothing to fear! All of the staff here have agreed to pitch in for your instruction, and by the end of the classes you will all be as graceful as swans!”

The cries of outrage simmered down to displeased grumbles, but I couldn’t help the creeping feeling that crawled along my spine the longer Crowley continued, “Now, the first lesson will begin in a week. Everyone will have the option to choose what style of dance they would like to learn. Should you refuse or take too long to choose, you will be shuttled into a random class.” 

He paused, glancing around the room to ensure we were all still listening, before he continued, “Please, keep in mind that you must pass at least one class! At the end of each class ,you will perform in front of the student body and your judges with a partner, who will be decided by a game of straws. If you already know a dance, you may not take that class to meet your requirements.”

The principle beamed down at all of us, either unaware of the mass discontent that faced him or incredibly delighted by it. Knowing him, both options were perfectly possible.

With a characteristically large gesture, he waved the assembled students off and away, “Everyone, except for the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm, is excused. Please return to your classes posthaste.”

And there it was, the reason I’d been so nervous ever since I’d heard the word, ‘dance.’ There was going to be some special detail involving myself, just as there always was.

As everyone else walked away, I approached the dais upon which Crowley stood, briefly making eye contact with Ace and Deuce, who both smiled weakly at me. 

Despite my displeasure, Crowley met me with a grin and an incredibly affectionate pat on the shoulder, “I’m afraid your grading will be handled differently due to your gender Prefect.”

 His comment caused me to wrinkle my nose immediately, smelling a rat already, “Why should me being a girl cause my grading to be different?” 

He nodded understandingly, “Because in a traditional dance, the man leads. As the female partner, you will be at the mercy of your lead. As such, your grading will consist of dancing with a staff member.” He paused as I nodded, understanding his words to some extent and feeling surprised that he’d taken this into consideration.

“Additionally, you will be expected to take all of the classes and will dance with anyone who pulls the straw correlating to you being their partner.”

There it was. Leave it to Crowley to have some sort of side agenda.

I couldn’t even muster up the proper amount of righteous indignation because at this point, I wasn’t even surprised. Instead I had to settle for growling out my question, “What?” 

He had the gall to look surprised at my reaction as well as the insulted yowl Grim let out on my behalf. 

Crowley recovered quickly , flapping his hands as if that would ease our displeasure as he spouted his explanation, “Calm down, both of you. This will add a competitive streak to these classes that will help keep these masses of boys interested. If they’re lucky, they will get you as their partner and only have to dance once. Everyone else must dance twice. Once as the lead, where they will be graded, and once as the female partner.”

A tiny part of me didn't want to believe what I was hearing, but I knew, all too well, that it was true. It sounded exactly like some sort of plot this man would cook up. A new way to keep me busy and not hounding him about finding a way home for me.

He smiled again, misinterpreting my infuriated silence as worry, “You needn't worry, hatchling. Crewel, Trein, Vargas, and Sam have all volunteered to handle your lessons separately from the boys. In fact, Crewel only requested that you wear his newest line of dancing clothes. Lovely dresses, I’m sure.”

He spouted that final bit of info as if it were a perk that I was supposed to be excited about. But fancy clothes were the least of my worries. I apparently had a bunch of dances to learn and perform.

“Dress-up and dance classes,” Grim rolled his eyes, “That’s a dream come true for sure.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, but Crowley merely nodded enthusiastically. Obviously unaware, or more likely, unconcerned, about the amount of disgust he’d garnered for himself today.

If you would like to read more:

Next post

[ham-st4r]

NAH IM DONE WITH "ENGENES" (im looking at yall k-enegnes specfically)

WHY THE FUCK IS IT whenever enhypen releases new music, content, at a concert, fuck even breathe that these fake ass fuckers have the need to say something so shit to our boys LIKE WHAT THE FUCK IS UR PROBLEM U STANKY ASS BE GRATEFUL THAT THEY ARE DOING SO MUCH FOR US

if they have so much problem just fucking leave man no need to stay. I feel like atp they are just there for the fan service. The day enhypen stops doing that is the day we all have true engenes that can vibe together fr fr.

On god bro like damn I was literally just thinking about that shit these boys are working fucking overtime (I know they chose to be idols) like back to back tours two hour long shows send off soundcheck new music back to back like what more could you want? Not to mention all the other little side projects they do They’re unproblematic but somehow “engenes” still got shit to say? They have been harassed threatened named called and everything else under the sun but yet people still got shit to say it’s outrageous

And fuck don’t even get me started on the member favoritism holy hot damn the fact that people are singling out members and based off looks or fan service really just grinds my gears like I love heeseung with my whole entire heart but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna bash sunghoon or call jay ugly like tf be for real right now

I have zero respect for people who talk about them like that and try to claim their “engenes” not to mention all the weird fan interactions they have to endure but god forbid they meet an engene in Japan and hug them then all hell has to break loose

There’s just so much more I have to say and honestly I could write 10k words on the topic alone

Not to mention people only talk about their visuals like they are more then their visuals they make incredible music and have some of the most unique voices in kpop that I’ve heard but still everytime you see a post about them it’s about heeseung’s visuals or some nonsense (not saying there aren’t post that praise them) but for the most part I really see post about that which in my opinion is meaningless like yes they are attractive young men (I only look at heeseung btw lol) but they are more than that honestly they deserve respect cause they have done nothing but work hard to put out greatness for us so we should appreciate it they’re always active (especially jungwon)

And the fan service and other engenes being jealous of that girl who did the go big or go home dance on the big screen in Dallas I think it was people literally stalked her account and went years back to find out she was saying the N word and they started dogging her for it (I hate when people use that word) but still to drag her like that was scary and crazy all just because the boys watched her on screen I can assure that the fans are thinking about her more than enhypen so I don’t get where all the jealousy comes in from yeah I wish I got noticed on the big screen but I’m not gonna throw hate at someone just cause she did and I didn’t (and maybe that’s cause they did see me in the crowd why I’m not jealous) but even still that’s too far I understand being jealous but not to the extent of tracking someone’s account down thats actually (if it’s true I just heard this somewhere on tiktok I think) but yeah there’s so much to say and it’s all negative I’m embarrassed that I’m even associated with them by being an engene but sadly there’s nothing I can do but like you said hopefully they will leave and the real engenes will have their time to shine

Another way you can tell those “engenes” are just in it for the members is the fact they are selling their vip1 tickets cause it was said there was going to be no send off (saw it on twitter not sure if this is true either) but if it is that’s crazy like why not just show up and support them without being delusional about it and the fact they walked out last year when enhypen was still performing songs just so they could get close at sendoff like come on it’s just embarrassing atp but anything to get noticed right? Even the members couldn’t stop the “fans” from fighting so that’s how you can tell it’s just a crazed obsession but okay I’m done

For now

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - October 1

 Ok, so I’m SORRY!!! This week is probably the least I’ve read since I started this rec blog. I had a lot of work and prepping for being out of office on vacation. Next week should be fairly ridiculous since…vacation reading. So that’ll be nice for all of us. 

~*~ 

In Too Deep by fohatic

Steve knew that he was asking for trouble when he agreed to let the gallery auction off a date with him for charity, but he needed to get in the director's good books if he wanted to make it as an artist in this cutthroat town. He never imagined that his participation would ignite an outrageous bidding war, or that the infamous, billionaire ex that he hadn't seen since their sudden breakup two years prior would show up and stake his claim.

a slightly twisted, darker spin on meidui's "frequencies of sea and space"

Just a Jump to the Left by captainmistyknight (vicspeaks)

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the man out of time. Are you prepared to be eliminated from the current timeline?” Ugh, Kang. It was too early for this."

Kang gives Steve the chance to hop back into the past right where he left off, no strings attached. Tony doesn't like that at all. Steve figures out when he's meant to be, in the end.

Mr. July by jibrailis

Tony is the only one who can defend Steve's virtue. Tony hates his life.

Reasons To Love You by ItsMayBiTheWay

There is  98% chance he is not reading this wrong, but for the sake of his sanity, Tony feels compelled to ask. He wants to lighten the mood a little, let out a chuckle with his question but it all comes out so earnest, too honest. “So you’re telling me you’ve been listing all of my worst traits to tell me you’re worried about me?”

“Well…” Steve lets out a little laugh. “You do have far worse traits than the ones I’ve listed.”

“If I’m that terrible, why do you care?” He doesn't mean for his words to sting, but they leave on their own accord, carrying little needles.

the truth is by JenTheSweetie

“This is one of the top eight worst things that has ever happened to me,” Steve said.

“That’s… specific,” Tony said.

Who's Scruffy Looking? by JenTheSweetie

“I don’t know,” Steve said, after Tony finished a six-minute ode to The Dude’s beard. “I mean, I’m not really a fan of beards.”

Tony gave Steve a look of such horror that Steve almost wondered if he’d misspoken and casually mentioned that he’d been tossing puppies off the top floor of Stark Tower.

“You’re not,” he said, “a fan of beards? I mean – but you like my beard.”

Steve tilted his head. “Uh. No, not really a fan of yours, either.”

just another morning in the stark mansion by calciseptine

At 7:34 a.m. on a random Tuesday in October, one enraged Pepper Potts interrupts Steve Rogers' and Tony Stark's simple eggs-and-toast breakfast.

Fog in a Snowstorm by ladyshadowdrake 

Tony had been dating Steve Rogers regularly for three months. The only problem was that he wasn’t entirely sure if Steve knew it.

angels who sin by meidui

Summer air is thick and sweet, like Tony's voice pouring honey into Steve's throat, telling Steve more than he needs to know. He's here with his parents for the summer, he just finished his first year at college, he doesn't believe in God but his parents make him come to church.

"They said you can help me find faith," Tony says, as mischievous as he is innocent, and Steve is as good as gone.

I Bet You Think About Me by iam93percentstardust 

But now that we're done and it's over

I bet you couldn't believe

When you realized I'm harder to forget than I was to leave

And I bet you think about me

~

The breakup wasn’t amicable.

Steve had always liked most of Tony’s friends. He’d gotten along well with Rhodey and Bruce and Pepper and Natasha. He’d even gotten along reasonably well with Happy, who didn’t like anyone other than May. It had been the other side of Tony’s friend group that Steve hadn’t liked and who had, ultimately, been the wedge that broke them apart.

Visionary by Captain_Panda

As a Captain for Starfleet, Tony takes a rare opportunity to pursue enemies into Deep Space.

Unfortunately, his decision might just cost him his crew--and his one-of-a-kind First Officer.

[PODFIC] Guilty Lovers by where_thewind_blows

Tony plays matchmaker for Clint and Bucky during a mission to retrieve weapons from Hydra. Things would've gone a lot easier had the townspeople nearby not have already met (and hated) the Winter Soldier as Hydra's Asset.

[ladysomething]

Oh my goodness thank you so much for such a detailed answer and for entertaining my long, rambling mess of an ask. I appreciate you and I LOVE learning more about your writing process. It’s so interesting to me and it makes me appreciate the fic even more knowing how much work and care you and SaiyanWitcher put into every chapter. I will ask again at the end of WYGIG to find out what foreshadowing moments you loved the most, I promise! And in the meantime I am so excited to see what things I’m right about and what things are gonna surprise me! (Also I think I’m already wrong about the Kelly thing because I forgot in ch2 that Charles said she didn’t have a mating bite, so my new prediction is that Max was helping Kelly escape from a bad situation and that Max’s mum was the one he saw go through mate withdrawal, but don’t tell me if I’m right! I’m living for the suspense!!)

And tiny details like the vase thing are truly my favourite thing. Idk, they just are that special something that makes a fic go from amazing to like, god-tier for me. And now since you said you love when people pick up on tiny details, here’s some others I noticed that I loved, just in case me noticing them can also bring you some joy.

Before the auction, Mattia touches his own face when referring to Charles’ muzzle in ch1 and Max gestures at his face similarly in ch2 when trying to get permission from Charles to remove the muzzle (and then the contrast of Mattia’s cruelty and Max’s gentleness that follows those similar actions is !!!!! so good !!) 

I loved how in ch1 when Charles is trying to mentally block out the auction, he focuses on pretending he’s back in his childhood apartment since that was a safe place for him, and then that’s the same place his dreamworld is based on when we see it in ch3!

Charles self soothing by stroking his teddy in ch2 and by stroking the sheets in his nest the same way in ch4 broke my heart a lil.

And Charles described Max’s scent as most collecting on petals of daffodils and jasmine when Max was trying to calm him down in ch3 and then max describes Charles’ scent as strawberries and jasmine in ch4. Love the subtle overlap, those boys are meant to be (even if it’s a Rough Start)!!!

This ask is now longer than my first outrageously long ask, I am so so sorry. And I don’t even have a question so def don’t feel obligated to reply to this one LOL. But I have so much love for your writing and so appreciate your willingness to answer my (and everyone else’s) questions about your writing and this story!!

anon, I need you to understand that I've had a really difficult week writing WYGIG. I know exactly what has to to happen, and I'm so excited for the next chapter, and yet I am struggling to get words down on the paper.

Your previous ask, and now this one, are so immeasurably delightful to me and they are the exact type of thing I needed to hear. I don't know if you'll ever be able to understand just how meaningful the things you've said are.

I honestly don't think I even have the words to thank you for your extremely kind and thoughtful asks, so instead I'm giving you what is an extremely meagre offering in return: a snippet from chapter 5.

It's below the cut, for anybody who doesn't want the spoilers.

“Is this your Dreyma Ver-öld?” 

Charles’ fingers slip on the keys, discordant noise filling the air. He whips around on the seat, horror filling him as he sees Max standing in the middle of the living room, dripping water everywhere and looking around curiously. 

“You,” Charles seethes. “What are you doing here?” 

But he already knows the answer, of course. Max claimed him, so just like every other part of his life, Max gets access to this, too. At least he seems to have woken up outside, where it’s still pouring rain. At least there are small justices. 

“Mine doesn’t look like this,” Max says, ignoring the question entirely. 

Charles wouldn’t have any idea what Max’s Dream World might look like. He’ll never get to see it, because to see it he’d have to claim Max back. No, instead, Charles is doomed to a life giving everything to Max and getting nothing in return. 

“Was this your home?” 

Charles grits his teeth and turns back around to his piano, stubbornly refusing to answer. 

“What was the shed outside?” Max asks a few moments later. “I tried to go in, but—” 

“You can’t go in there,” Charles snaps, shoulders hunched. He doesn’t care how confrontational he sounds—he’d rather die than let Max near the memories locked in that shed.