#no matter how gently and thoroughly you say it most of this audience will not get it :/

[sounknownvoid]

💯 💯 this! .... the only time I've seen a half-decent take or even understanding on dean's perpetuating of the domestic-abuse cycle ....

John, dean and sam are ALL traumatised and survivors - the difference is that dean n sam were subjected to it from childhood and dean perpetuates it as he has no coping skills but also low-functioning emotional intelligence - has enough to get by but not really to understand/grasp it all n work out a healthy solution .... & feels helpless to stop himself from perpetuating it too (s9:- "I sure am tired of doing the wrong thing") - he's classic representative of "hurt people,hurt people" trope

Sam suffers at the hands of both/all coz he's not cut from the same cloth to fit in with the performative hypermasculinity of their culture (&us-american masculinity especially) - but is ultimately the representative of someone who actively attempts to break the cycle - & after many,many,many failures, manages to at least not make the exact same mistakes- different ones perhaps but at least not the same....

So many people will be outright antagonistic to any acknowledgment of Dean's abusive tendencies and insist you "just enjoy the show" as if abuse is something tangential that people project onto the characters and not intrinsically linked with Supernatural's themes. Imagine if anytime you tried to discuss John's abuse of Sam and Dean, people said that it was unnecessary hair splitting. This isn't about cancelling Dean, or woobifying Sam or Jack. It's just a part of the show we are watching.

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

fearless - a close reading

this is louis speaking from the heart, getting so honest it hurts. good thing these lyrics are not directed at me bc wow i would be brittle. it’s louis the strong leader shining through, the wise older brother who gently offers advice when someone he cares about is going in the wrong direction. yea ig i did that sorry 

i care about this one a lot, and genuinely it’s just another fucking banger, so here we go.

walls, track 8

*playground noises*

Cash in your weekend treasures  For a suit and tie, a second wife

(another inconsistency with louis’s album booklet: there it says “cashing” - imp “cash in” makes the most sense, since otherwise there wouldn’t be a sentence)

“weekend treasures” - earns money over the weekend? has fun? good experiences? or is it sarcastic and is “you” just escaping for the sake of it

“cash in”: exchange your fun life for the one in a suit with a wife - living a double life

“suit and tie”: trope of the businessman with the family living a lie (- she)

superficial - looks, image of someone who has their shit together

Now I’m not saying that you could’ve done better Just remember that I, I’ve seen that fire alight

i’m saying you can be better though. i’m an old friend, i know you, and i can see now that your fire has been extinguished

Tell me, do you, tell me, do you still remember feeling young? Tell me the truth, tell me, do you still remember feeling young

conversation; louis is pressing the matter gently, repeating his question with added “tell me the truth” bc “you” is lying, to louis and to themselves

“you” can live a lie all they want but louis sees through it and won’t take them lying to him too. louis wants to get the truth out of them in order to help them

always “young” - old friends, lifelong experiences

And strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people?

“you” is not being strong atm, though they used to be

“enough” - implies that the challenges and expectations are high and it takes a lot of strength to handle them

“you” is afraid to fail, and though they used to be resilient enough to get back up when it did happen, they lost that will to fight

“all these people” - who are they? an audience, watching? people judging them? “these” also implies they’re still there, and also that they’re close to/ (perhaps) watching louis - otherwise he would’ve used “those”

general “they” on walls, always with the eerie connotation of people judging, exercising influence

“wonder what they’d say if they could see us now” - wmi

“don’t know why they put all of this on us when we’re so young” - wmi

“when they said a love like this would never last” - too young

“and they’ll say, ‘i told you so’” - only the brave

Just for tonight, look inside and spark that memory of you Strong enough to get it wrong in front of all these people

stop ignoring yourself, for once

this person has thoroughly lost themselves: they need to spark the memory first, since that “you” is buried so deep down

“spark” - “fire alight”: keeping up the metaphor of this person’s personality and life force as fire, burning bright

Fearless, fearless Fearless, fearless

remember when you were fearless? 

come on, babe, let’s be strong, proud, happy

Now if happiness is always measured By the life you design, that car on the drive

a life by design: fake

material possessions won’t bring you happiness, although “you” seems to be chasing happiness in that direction - got priorities wrong

louis’s own mentality about happiness shining through: it’s all about staying true to yourself, that’s when you’re truly happy

Then you should feel better than ever But you know as well as I, it’s all lies

“we’re in the same boat” - louis knows about this side of life: trying to chase happiness through wealth + living a lie

the life you have as a celebrity is not real: the riches, the attention, the stories; but “you” has lost sight of that, lost themselves in it - started living the lie without staying grounded in their real self, like they used to

implication that a celebrity always leads a double life, no matter what, and the way to stay sane is to keep that split in check, keep those lives separate

Tell me, do you, tell me, do you still remember feeling young?

SYNTHESIS

In Louis’s own track by track, he stays very close to the lyrics (for once) when explaining what the song is about. Additionally, our Peter Pan says that it’s about “encouraging youth and a little bit of recklessness.” *act my age starts playing*

This definitely reminds me of Louis’s relationship with a certain someone, but I’ll leave that in the middle. (There’s so many interpretations that I won’t interfere with your own findings, or my own future findings for that matter. I’d honestly love to hear whatever you think about this song!!)

In any case, Fearless is interesting in how it tells a story about someone else, someone Louis is speaking to and knows well, while it reveals a lot about Louis too. This “you” that has lost their way, lost their spark, has gone down a path that Louis could have gone down too, and maybe he almost did, or even tried out for a bit. Louis is full of patience and understanding, because he knows how hard it can be. He also knows, and says, that it’s necessary to keep re-evaluating yourself and what you’re doing in order to not get lost. He knows how easy it is to lose yourself and lose sight of what really makes you happy. It’s what he’s been singing about throughout the entire album.

Here, his friend, who he’s talking to as if he’s an older brother, almost, seems to have given up the fight without meaning to. What that fight is, in specifics, is something we’ll never know, of course, but Louis is still very revealing. Money, a second wife? If there’s one thing celebrities have said is how easy it is to lose yourself once you’re in the limelight. The attention, the money, the whirlwind of press surrounding you, a manufactured image to keep fans and labels/... as happy as possible... it sounds like hell to try to stay sane. If you have a network of people around you who genuinely care about your wellbeing, you might succeed in keeping your feet on the ground, but not everyone is that lucky. “They” might not have your best interests at heart, which is something Louis seems to have a lot of experience with. 

Being a celebrity and staying sane as a someone in the public eye involves this image that’s all lies, but Louis seems to be saying that there’s no way around it. He’s definitely been vocal about how the industry is full of shitty experiences, Copy of a Copy of a Copy as a loud example of that, but he might be saying that the public image, the front that the fans and outsiders believe in, is necessary to be able to maintain some sanity, privacy, happiness. 

What “you” has been doing, though, is leaning into that life, that image, that focuses only on material wealth, looks, having the picture-perfect job and relationship, and has lost of who they are along the way. And Louis, their friend since a long time, is asking them to calm the fuck down and use their brain for just one second to see if they can even remember who they used to be. (Honestly, if someone would ask me that? If I could spark the memory of me? I would burst into tears and sob until I was dehydrated. Seriously wtf.) 

So, I definitely think there is truth in what Louis said in his track by track, but it digs a little deeper than just asking his friend to take life less seriously. As usual.

I hope the person who this song was directed to got the message and perhaps also made the decision to spend some more time with his old friend Tommo, bc he’s on the right side of things here. (As I think he usually is.) And he’s got their back.

[sfb123]

Stealing Moments

Book: The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Summary: The Royal family spends the afternoon taking part in some pre-Easter (or preaster, if you will) activities.

Rating: G - I’m not going to sugar coat it (sugar is the last thing this story needs), this is some majorly fluffy stuff here. Even for me, and I’ve produced some pretty fluffy work.

Word Count: 1,947

A/N: So this story is a triple threat:

I am participating in @wackydrabbles prompt #88 “I meant every word.” Which will appear in bold.

I am also participating in the @choicesaprilchallenge2021, day 3 teal. That prompt will appear in italics.

I am also participating in @trraw, day 2 Liam. That prompt will appear in the form of a handsome and charming King.

A/N 2: This is an idea that I thought of while I was writing my upcoming Uncle Drake fic (you’ll see that one on Sunday), so I decided to write it up as a little prequel to that. Thank you to @jessiembruno for encouraging me to take my crazy throw away ideas and make them into something, and also by contributing this adorable moodboard. You are a Canva master. To think, not too long ago you hated it and cursed it out on the regs!

Tags: You know the drill, they’re down below. I hope you get it! If you want to be added or removed, let me know!

Liam sat in his study, wrapping up some paperwork before his next meeting when there was a knock on the door. “Come in.”

Bastien entered the room and shut the door behind him. “Sir, Lord Neville is demanding an audience with you. Immediately.” 

“Of course he is. Tell him I am unavailable, and to make an appointment with my assistant before he leaves.” 

“I did. I explained to him that you have an important afternoon meeting that could not be rescheduled. He didn’t appear to care.” Bastien chuckled to himself. This wasn’t the first time Neville had tried to weasel his way into an urgent meeting with the King.

Liam let out a deep breath as he stood, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Of course he didn’t. That’s fine, I need to get to my meeting anyway. I will tell him myself.” 

Almost immediately upon exiting his study, Neville was in his face. “Your Majesty, I have an urgent matter that requires your immediate attention-”

Liam held up a hand, silencing him. “I’m sure you do, Lord Neville. Unfortunately, I am on my way to a very important meeting, so I am unable to sit with you right now. Please see my assistant on your way out, and she will be happy to book you for my next available appointment.” 

“With all due respect Your Majesty, that simply won’t do. It won’t take long, perhaps I could walk with you to your next meeting?”

Liam internally rolled his eyes at the suggestion. He knew just how to stroke his ego to get him to back down. “Lord Neville, as one of our most valued members of court, I couldn’t possibly do you the disservice of giving you anything but my full attention on what I’m sure is a crucial matter. That is all I would be doing if I allowed you to continue at this time. I will make sure that my staff adjust the schedule to provide us enough time to examine the issue thoroughly. Please send me any documentation as soon as possible so that I may review it before our meeting. That way, we can hit the ground running when we do meet.”

Neville stood tall, a smug expression quickly spreading across his face. “Very well, Your Majesty. I appreciate your assistance in the matter. I will leave the documentation with your assistant.” He bowed, and Liam nodded in response before exiting the area and moving on to his next meeting. 

“If I may say sir, the way you handled that situation was truly masterful.” Bastien commented as they walked through the palace. 

Liam chuckled and patted his security guard on the back. “All in a day's work, my friend. Everything is in place for this afternoon, I trust? I will have no disruptions for the remainder of the day?”

“Yes Your Majesty, the staff has been fully alerted that you will be unavailable. I will be at the door to ensure that you are not bothered.” Bastien replied. 

Once they arrived at their destination, Liam crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. He was the last to arrive, so the sound of the door caught the attention of those that had already gathered. 

“Daddy!” Eleanor jumped out of her chair and ran straight for Liam, leaping into his arms. 

“Hello Princess.” He chuckled as he held her close, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Are you ready to decorate some Easter eggs?” He carried her through the livingroom area of the royal quarters, returning her to her seat at the kitchen table.

“Yep! I helped mommy mix all the colors together. It was so fun!” She gestured to the cups of coloring spread out across the table. 

Liam couldn't help but laugh at his daughter’s enthusiasm as he approached his wife, who was standing at the table making the final preparations for their afternoon project. “Hello, beautiful.” He leaned down and placed a lingering kiss on Riley’s lips. 

“Hey handsome. You made it right on time. I’m impressed.” She teased. 

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything in the world. No matter how hard Neville tried.” 

“Neville, yuck!” Eleanor chimed in, causing both of her parents to burst out laughing. 

Riley turned her attention back to her husband. “Alright, you go get changed. I don’t want you ruining your fancy king clothes with egg dye.”

Liam kissed his wife and daughter before going into the bedroom to put on some more casual clothes. He returned unnoticed as Riley explained the egg dying process to Eleanor. He stood for a moment and watched them, his girls, his world. He couldn’t help the smile that quickly spread across his face at the sight. 

“Daddy, come on, we can’t start without you!” Eleanor called out to him from the other side of the room, breaking him from his thoughts. 

He returned to the table and stood between his girls. “Alright, I’m here. Where do we begin?” 

Not only was this Eleanor’s first time decorating Easter eggs, but Liam’s too. He was told that as a Prince, there were more productive ways for him to spend his time. It was just one of the many childhood experiences being royalty simply didn’t allow for. He was so happy, not just to have this experience for himself, but to share it with his daughter. Another way to give her the childhood he never had, but always wanted.

Once Riley explained the process, they got to work; since she was the seasoned professional, she let Eleanor and Liam take the lead and do most of the work. She marveled in the similarities in their gestures, the concentration on their faces as they placed their white eggs in the dye, and the excitement when it would come out dyed a bright color. At one point, Riley couldn’t help but laugh when they pulled out their eggs at the same time, and looked up at her with identical expressions of joy, showing off their creations. 

They had gotten down to the last egg, Liam turned to Eleanor, “Ok Princess, we’ve got one left. You get to pick the color.”

A thoughtful expression overtook Eleanor’s face as she surveyed the colors that surrounded her before turning to her parents and confidently announcing her decision. “Teal.”

Riley and Liam locked eyes and shared a confused expression. There was no teal, they had only prepared basic colors, blue, green, yellow, pink, and purple. “Baby girl, we don’t have teal. These are the only colors we have.” Riley explained. 

Eleanor’s lip started to quiver as her arms went across her chest. “I want teal. Please.” Her parents had been teaching her the importance of manners, so she figured if she said please, they had to give her what she wanted. 

They both knew what that lip quiver meant, they were going to need to move quickly to avoid a total meltdown. Liam approached the princess and started rubbing her back to keep her calm. “It’s alright Eleanor. Why don’t you tell me why you want a teal egg so badly?”

“It’s my favorite color.” She looked up at her father, a pleading expression etched in her face. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

There was no question that Eleanor had the King wrapped around her finger, and when she looked at him like that, there was absolutely no way he could deny her. “Alright, let me go talk to mommy and see what we can do for you.” He kissed her on her cheek and returned to his wife. “Riley, there must be something we can do. I can send someone to get teal coloring. We have unlimited resources at our disposal, there must be some way we can make this happen for her.” 

Riley shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Man, you really are a sucker when it comes to her. Aren’t you.” 

“For both of my girls, actually.” He lifted her hand to his lips and brushed them gently across her knuckles, while giving her a hopeful expression. 

She sighed deeply, as much as she tried to fight it, she was also a sucker for her family. “Alright, I guess I can try to mix the blue and green together. Maybe I can get the right ratio to make a teal dye.” 

Liam turned to Eleanor and gave her a thumbs up, she clapped her hands and cheered in response. Riley got to work carefully mixing the two dyes into a third cup, occasionally dipping a piece of paper in to test the color. She smiled to herself when the fourth test paper emerged from the cup. Mission accomplished. “Did somebody want to make a teal egg?”

“Me me me!” Eleanor raised her hand and jumped up and down in her seat. 

Riley placed the cup in front of Eleanor and handed her the egg. The pair worked together to color the final egg to the princess’s exact specifications. 

Liam watched as the two of them completed their family project. His heart was so full at that moment that he felt weak in the knees. He reached behind him and laid his palms against the kitchen island to steady himself. He stood there as his wife, the love of his life, sat with his daughter creating memories in their home. In that moment, he wasn’t a King, he was the luckiest man in the world. 

With the help of her mother, Eleanor pulled the egg from the dye, her smile growing exponentially as she proudly looked up at her father to show off her work. “Daddy, we did it! It’s teal!”

Liam chuckled at the sight in front of him. “I think it’s the most beautiful egg I have ever seen, Princess.”

Riley looked up and noticed Liam’s expression before leaning down to Eleanor. “Hey sweets, why don’t you go wash up for dinner while I put all of this away.” Her daughter looked up and nodded before rushing down the hall. Riley approached Liam and put a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Love, I can honestly tell you I have never been better.” He placed a hand on her cheek. “Do you remember our first date? During the social season?” She nodded. “You asked me what my dream was, and I told you I wanted a real family, one that was close and listened to each other.” He paused, staring deeply into her eyes. “I have that, because of you Riley. You’ve made my dream, my heart’s desire, come true. Going into my social season, I had all but given up on falling in love, and assumed I would simply marry for duty. Then you uprooted your whole life to give me a chance at happiness. I will never be able to tell you how truly grateful I am for all that you have given me.” He placed a lingering kiss on her lips.

“Liam, I did it for me too. That night in New York, I had never felt like that before. I was not that girl, the one that drops everything to fly around the world for a boy I just met, but I knew there was something there that was worth exploring.” She wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“Really?”

Riley laughed gently. “I meant every word.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled her close. 

They pulled apart just as Eleanor bounded back into the room. She ran straight for her parents and jumped into Liam’s arms. He held her against one side, and pulled Riley into the other. He was sure that life couldn’t get better than that very moment. 

Tags:

Permatag- @anjanettexcordonia @athena-penrose @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @gabesmommie1130 @gkittylove99 @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @jessiembruno @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @lucy-268 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @pixie88 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @sweatyrysconnoisseur @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn

One Shots- @darley1101

Liam x Riley- @jared2612

@choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles @choicesaprilchallenge2021​ @trraw​

[80srichie]

just a bet, part 9

30 days remaining

Richie woke up to his phone ringing with a start. It was Eddie calling him. He missed the answer button a few times since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Hello?”

“Richie! Good morning.” Eddie was talking cheerfully.

“What time is it?” Richie asked, rolling over on his bed to grab his glasses off his nightstand.

“11 A.M.” Eddie replied, then paused. “Did I wake you?”

Richie snickered a little. “Yes.”

“Well, good, you should be up anyway. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today? My mom is visiting her sister.”

Richie paused for a moment, stretching out his arms and legs. “Well, toots, I’d be delighted.”

Eddie laughed a little. “Okay, well, get over here after you shower and all that. Please brush your teeth, Rich.”

Richie pouted, even though Eddie couldn’t see him. “Are you implying my breath stinks?”

Eddie laughed again. “Yes. See you soon.”

Richie heard the telltale beeps of an ended call and he put his phone down. He stretched again, finally standing up out of bed. He grabbed a new pair of boxers and headed into the bathroom to shower. Richie more than thoroughly washed his body, purely for the sake of Eddie, and brushed his teeth afterward. He threw on a shirt and some pants, not bothering to make his hair look presentable. He was out the door within the hour Eddie called him.

When Richie arrived, Eddie had already opened the door and was ushering him inside. Eddie seemed very upbeat and excited. “What’s going on with you, huh? Excited to see me or something?” Richie teased.

Eddie smiled. “You could say that. I was making lunch and I got a perfect idea and you get to taste test it!”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? You can’t taste it yourself?”

Eddie frowned a little. “I can! I just want another opinion, asshole.”

Richie smiled, nudging him with his shoulder and bringing him close to him. “I will try anything you make for me, Eds.” He paused, “even your.. bodily fluids…”

Eddie shoved Richie off of him. “You are disgusting and I hate you. I thought you were being sweet.”

Richie scoffed, feigning hurt. “I was Eddie Spaghetti. That was endearing.”

Eddie made a face. “Your definition of endearing is very wrong.” He turned back to the stove, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring something in a metal pot. “Anyway, come here. I want you to try this.”

Richie leaned over Eddie to peer into the pot, a red sauce lightly simmering. Richie took the wooden spoon from him and sipped a little sauce off the utensil. It was a sweet and spicy tomato sauce. “That’s good, Eds! What is it for?”

Eddie smiled and took the lid and placed it back on the pot, turning the heat on the stovetop down. “Ironically, spaghetti. Unless you’d rather have a rotini or penne pasta, that’s an option too. I didn’t know what pasta shape you liked but thinking about it now, it probably would be something like a bowtie.”

Richie chuckled. “I appreciate the consideration you took into my pasta shape preference, but honestly, I’ll eat anything.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I know that Richie, you eat everything. I just want you to actually like it.” He put another pot on the stove with water in it, turning on the other stovetop to boil the water.

Richie smiled, feeling his heart swell with affection. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He paused for a few moments, before continuing. “Of food poisoning, of course.”

Eddie groaned as he put the box of spaghetti noodles on the counter to await the other pot to boil. “You can’t just compliment me normally, can you?” He turned, staring at Richie with a small grin on his lips. “You’re the worst.”

Richie smiled widely, reaching forward and pulling Eddie towards him by his hips. Their height difference was clearer this way and it was Richie’s favorite. Being able to look down on Eddie and see his innocent brown eyes stare back up at him - it was heavenly. “Eddie…” He started, wetting his strangely dry lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip to cry and contain the smile that yeared to appear. “Depends, did you brush your teeth as I asked?”

Richie chuckled, already leaning down to meet Eddie halfway, mumbling out a yes that was muffled by their lips connecting. They fit together seamlessly. Both of them had wordlessly learned each other’s favorite ways to kiss and it never ceased to amaze Richie just how easily their lips fit together. Their first kiss was messy and off-kilter, but every one after that continued to get better and better.

Eddie pulled back after a moment, staring up into Richie’s eyes before taking his hand and sliding it up the back of his neck. Eddie’s hand tangled into Richie’s unruly curls and gently tugged, pulling him back down for a deeper kiss. Eddie had gotten increasingly more forward as time went on and as they both got more comfortable with each other. Richie loved it.

The two of them spent a good few minutes kissing before Eddie, lips a bit swollen, pulled back and detached himself from Richie. “I have to put the pasta in the water.”

Richie made a noise of dissatisfaction but let him go, watching as he dumped the entire box of noodles into the now boiling water. The meal itself was done not soon after, two bowls of perfectly sauced and portioned spaghetti sitting in front of the both of them. They ate in comfortable silence before Richie spoke up. “Hey, Eds, I have a game tomorrow. You’re coming, right?”

Eddie smiled softly, wiping off his mouth with his napkin and setting his fork in his empty bowl. “If you’d like me to.”

Richie nodded. “Of course, I love seeing you in the stands. I always play better knowing a hot guy is watching me.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and stood, picking up his bowl and taking Richie’s as well.

“Hey! I wasn’t done.” Richie protested.

Eddie laughed a bit. “I know, dickhead. I’ll put the leftovers in a container but my Mom will be home soon, so…” He trailed off, letting Richie fill in the rest on his own. He watched as Eddie put the extra spaghetti in a Tupperware and closed the lid, handing it back when he was done.

Richie took it from him with a smile. “You’re practically my perfect housewife. House… husband?”

Eddie blinked at him, intentionally not playing into his joke. “Uh-huh... Okay, bye, Rich.” He ushered him to the front door and left him outside with a peck to his lips. Once Richie got home, he checked his phone for the first time since that morning and noticed he had multiple texts from Stan, as well as a missed call. He pushed Stan’s number and held it up to his ear. It only rang a few times before Stan picked up with a sigh. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

Richie shrugged, laying down on his back on his bed. “I was with Eddie. Why? What’s going on?”

Stan paused for a few seconds. “I wanted to talk about Eddie, actually.”

Richie sat up, looking at the ground in confusion. “Why?” He could hear Stan talking to someone in the background, as well as some shuffling before Stan spoke again.

“I think this has gone too far. The bet.”

Richie scoffed. “I did try to say that like, a month ago, Stan. Why are you bringing it up now?”

Stan sighed again. “You’re going to hurt him if you continue with this and you know it. It’s not fair to him, or you, for that matter.”

Richie took a moment to process what Stan was saying. “Stan, I don’t know if I haven’t made it clear enough, but I like him for real. Like, seriously, genuinely have feelings for him.” The line was uncomfortably silent. “Stan?”

“Okay. How are you going to tell him why you went after him in the first place?”

Richie frowned. “I don’t fuckin’ know! Unless you have an idea, I have no intention of telling him until it’s on my deathbed.”

Stan exhaled dejectedly. “You have to at some point.” He pointed out.

“I know,” Richie groaned. “I know and I will, so, just let me deal with it. Why did you call me anyway?”

Stan clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “No reason, I suppose. Is he going to be at the game tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” Stan said and took a few beats before continuing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Without another word, Stan hung up the phone, the line going to dead static on Richie’s end. He pulled the phone back from his ear and stared at the screen, frowning.

-

The night of Richie’s soccer game was uncharacteristically chilly, most patrons wearing hoodies or light jackets to cover themselves from the cold. It was nearing the end of Fall and the Fall soccer season, so Eddie came prepared. He stood among the rest of the audience in the stands, his hands balled up inside the sleeves of his hoodie and tucked into the front pocket to keep warm. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, watching the soccer game in front of him. Since he had started dating Richie, the rules of soccer started to make more sense. He could easily name the different positions and even knew some of the penalties and why they were called. Half-time had just been called when he felt someone tap him on his shoulder. Eddie turned, a bit startled. “Oh, sorry, hi, Bill. You scared me.”

Bill offered him a friendly smile. “H-Hey, Eddie, can we talk real quick?” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder to a grassy area beside the bleachers that was mostly empty, apart from a man and his dog.

Eddie glanced back at the game and nodded. “Yeah, sure, I just wanna get back before the game starts back up.”

Bill nodded in agreement, leading Eddie down to the area he had pointed to, the man and his dog moved on from the area, leaving the two of them alone. “So, um, what’s up?” Eddie asked, bouncing on his feet to keep himself warm.

Bill wrung his hands together anxiously and Eddie waited patiently with a confused smile on his face. “You okay?” He eventually asked.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, I juh-just don’t know how to p-phrase it.” He let out a long sigh before talking again. “I… I like you, E-Eddie.”

Eddie’s friendly smile dropped from his face, hating the way his stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Um…”

Bill continued before Eddie had the chance to talk. “I h-have for a good wh-while, too.”

Eddie managed to crack an uneasy grin. “Uh, Bill…” He laughed awkwardly. “You... Why are you telling me this?”

Bill frowned. “Because I wa-wanted you to know, a-and I think y-you deserve better than Richie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to frown now. “I don’t think you have a say in that.” He mumbled, taking a step back towards the stands. “If that’s all, I’m going to-”

“Wait!” Bill reached out, grabbing Eddie’s arm.

Eddie gently pulled back from his touch. “Sorry, Bill, I have to get back to wa-”

Bill grimaced. “No! There’s something you need to know.” When Eddie made no move to leave, Bill sighed and spoke. “Richie never liked you.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, Bill, seriously? We have been together for a good few weeks, I would know if-”

“He’s dating you because of a bet, Eddie!” Bill exploded. “It was Beverly’s idea and Stan knows about it too - He hasn’t told you yet because you guys haven’t slept together and that was part of the deal.”

Eddie’s movements faltered, his body growing colder as Bill spoke. “What?” He asked, shaking his head. “No, you’re making that up. He told me the bet Beverly was talking about had to-”

“-do with Stan. He lied. She was talking about you, Eddie, she always was. Richie’s been lying.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath, turning his back to Bill and facing the field. He could see Richie jogging towards them and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “No… You have to be lying.”

Richie approached them, smiling at Eddie. His smile faltered, though, when he saw the look on his face. “Eds? Bill? What’s going on?”

Eddie felt his tears prick with tears. “Tell me he’s lying, Richie. Tell me right now.”

Richie was alarmed. “Lying about what?” He turned to Bill. “What did you tell him?” He demanded.

Bill stood his ground. “The truth.”

Eddie was staring at Richie, his eyes burning from oncoming tears. “Did you date me… Are you dating me, for a fucking bet, Richie? You told me Beverly was talking about you and Stan.”

Richie’s face fell, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. “Eds-”

“Tell me!” Eddie cried, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Richie’s jersey and shaking him a bit. “Tell me right now.”

Richie could feel his entire life fading in front of him. “You have to let me explain.”

Eddie abruptly dropped his hold on Richie’s jersey and took a step back, tears finally finding their way out of Eddie’s eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “You promised me, Richie.”

Richie tried to close the gap between them, but Eddie pushed him away. “Don’t!”

Richie couldn’t breathe, his world was spinning anxiously around him. He felt like he could get sick right here. “Eddie, please, let me explain. It will make sense, I promise, none of this was fake!”

Eddie scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears pilling under his eyelashes. “You’re so full of shit. I can’t believe I trusted you, you stupid fucking asshole.” Eddie’s voice was laced with malice and regret; It made Richie’s heart hurt more. Bill made a move towards Eddie, and he backed up from him as well. “I don’t want to fucking talk to you, either.” He threatened, sniffing and glaring at Richie. “If it wasn’t clear, do not ever fucking call me, text me, speak to me again.” With that, Eddie was gone, disappearing around the backside of the bleachers and into the poorly lit school parking lot.

Richie stood there, shocked and heartbroken, before turning to Bill. “What the fuck did you do?” He asked angrily, moving towards him.

“I-I told him the truth!” Bill said, backing up a bit. “He d-deserves better than you, R-Richie, and you know it!”

Richie pushed Bill harshly by his shoulders. It all clicked. “Oh, and you’re much better?” He pushed him again, Bill falling into the wired fence behind him. “You are a selfish fucking prick, Denbrough, and I’ll make sure everyone fucking knows.”

Bill stood there, leaning against the fence. “Everyone already thinks you are, Richie.” He said, pushing past him to leave, heading the same way Eddie had gone.

Richie stood alone in the grassy area, attempting to calm his rapid thoughts of anger. Bill told Eddie and Eddie believed him and now he was gone. Richie knew he needed to tell Eddie himself but he couldn’t find any time that would have gone better.

Someone approached Richie from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Richie?” It was Stan.

Richie pulled away from his touch. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Stan blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Bill telling Eddie! It was you, wasn’t it? You put the thought in Bill’s head so he would end this stupid bet!”

Stan frowned. “Bill did what? Eddie knows?”

“Yes!” Richie cried. “Eddie fucking knows! Do you see him here, Stan, huh?”

Stan grimaced at Richie’s yelling. “I didn’t tell Bill to do anything. He had a crush on Eddie-”

“Isn’t that fucking sweet,” Richie mumbled, moving past Stan to chase after Eddie. He was going to make things right, he was going to explain himself.

“What about the game?” Stan asked and Richie nearly exploded.

“I don’t give a fuck about anything but Eddie right now, Stan! Isn’t that obvious?”

Stan nodded his head. “Just tell the truth. Tell him how you’ve always felt, Richie, he needs words.”

Richie stared at him for a few beats, before turning to walk away without another word.

30 days remaining

Richie woke up to his phone ringing with a start. It was Eddie calling him. He missed the answer button a few times since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. “Hello?”

“Richie! Good morning.” Eddie was talking cheerfully.

“What time is it?” Richie asked, rolling over on his bed to grab his glasses off his nightstand.

“11 A.M.” Eddie replied, then paused. “Did I wake you?”

Richie snickered a little. “Yes.”

“Well, good, you should be up anyway. I was wondering if you wanted to hang out today? My mom is visiting her sister.”

Richie paused for a moment, stretching out his arms and legs. “Well, toots, I’d be delighted.”

Eddie laughed a little. “Okay, well, get over here after you shower and all that. Please brush your teeth, Rich.”

Richie pouted, even though Eddie couldn’t see him. “Are you implying my breath stinks?”

Eddie laughed again. “Yes. See you soon.” 

Richie heard the telltale beeps of an ended call and he put his phone down. He stretched again, finally standing up out of bed. He grabbed a new pair of boxers and headed into the bathroom to shower. Richie more than thoroughly washed his body, purely for the sake of Eddie, and brushed his teeth afterwards. He threw on a shirt and some pants, not bothering to make his hair look presentable. He was out the door within the hour Eddie called him.

When Richie arrived, Eddie had already opened the door and was ushering him inside. Eddie seemed very up-beat and excited. “What’s going on with you, huh? Excited to see me or something?” Richie teased.

Eddie smiled. “You could say that. I was making lunch and I got the perfect idea and you get to taste test it!”

Richie raised his eyebrows. “Oh, really? You can’t taste it yourself?”

Eddie frowned a little. “I can! I just want another opinion, asshole.”

Richie smiled, nudging him with his shoulder and bringing him close to him. “I will try anything you make for me, Eds.” He paused, “even your.. bodily fluids…”

Eddie shoved Richie off of him. “You are disgusting and I hate you. I thought you were being sweet.”

Richie scoffed, feigning hurt. “I was Eddie Spaghetti. That was endearing.”

Eddie made a face. “Your definition of endearing is very wrong.” He turned back to the stove, grabbing a wooden spoon and stirring something in a metal pot. “Anyway, come here. I want you to try this.”

Richie leaned over Eddie to peer into the pot, a red sauce lightly simmering. Richie took the wooden spoon from him and sipped a little sauce off the utensil. It was a sweet and spicy tomato sauce. “That’s good, Eds! What is it for?”

Eddie smiled and took the lid and placed it back on the pot, turning the heat on the stovetop down. “Ironically, spaghetti. Unless you’d rather have a rotini or penne pasta, that’s an option too. I didn’t know what pasta shape you liked, but thinking about it now, it probably would be something like a bowtie.”

Richie chuckled. “I appreciate the consideration you took into my pasta shape preference, but honestly, I’ll eat anything.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I know that, Richie, you eat everything. I just want you to actually like it.” He put another pot on the stove with water in it, turning on the other stovetop to boil the water. 

Richie smiled, feeling his heart swell with affection. “You’re going to be the death of me.” He paused for a few moments, before continuing. “Of food poisoning, of course.”

Eddie groaned as he put the box of spaghetti noodles on the counter to await the other pot to boil. “You can’t just compliment me normally, can you?” He turned, staring at Richie with a small grin on his lips. “You’re the worst.”

Richie smiled widely, reaching forward and pulling Eddie towards him by his hips. Their height difference was clearer this way and it was Richie’s favorite. Being able to look down on Eddie and see his innocent brown eyes stare back up at him - it was heavenly. “Eddie…” He started, wetting his strangely dry lips. “Can I kiss you?”

Eddie bit his bottom lip to cry and contain the smile that yeared to appear. “Depends, did you brush your teeth like I asked?”

Richie chuckled, already leaning down to meet Eddie halfway, mumbling out a yes that was muffled by their lips connecting. They fit together seamlessly. Both of them had wordlessly learned each other’s favorite ways to kiss and it never ceased to amaze Richie just how easily their lips fit together. Their first kiss was messy and off-kilter, but every one after that continued to get better and better.

Eddie pulled back after a moment, staring up into Richie’s eyes before taking his hand and sliding it up the back of his neck. Eddie’s hand tangled into Richie’s unruly curls and gently tugged, pulling him back down for a deeper kiss. Eddie had gotten increasingly more forward as time went on and as they both got more comfortable with each other. Richie loved it.

The two of them spent a good few minutes kissing before Eddie, lips a bit swollen, pulled back and detached himself from Richie. “I have to put the pasta in the water.” 

Richie made a noise of dissatisfaction but let him go, watching as he dumped the entire box of noodles into the now boiling water. The meal itself was done not soon after, two bowls of perfectly sauced and portioned spaghetti sitting in front of the both of them. They ate in a comfortable silence, before Richie spoke up. “Hey, Eds, I have a game tomorrow. You’re coming, right?”

Eddie smiled softly, wiping off his mouth with his napkin and setting his fork in his empty bowl. “If you’d like me to.”

Richie nodded. “Of course, I love seeing you in the stands. I always play better knowing a hot guy is watching me.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and stood, picking up his bowl and taking Richie’s as well.

“Hey! I wasn’t done.” Richie protested.

Eddie laughed a bit. “I know, dickhead. I’ll put the leftovers in a container but my Mom will be home soon, so…” He trailed off, letting Richie fill in the rest on his own. He watched as Eddie put the extra spaghetti in a Tupperware and closed the lid, handing it back when he was done.

Richie took it from him with a smile. “You’re practically my perfect housewife. House… husband?”

Eddie blinked at him, intentionally not playing into his joke. “Uh huh.. Okay, bye, Rich.” He ushered him to the front door and left him outside with a peck to his lips. Once Richie got home, he checked his phone for the first time since that morning and noticed he had multiple texts from Stan, as well as a missed call. He pushed Stan’s number and held it up to his ear. It only rang a few times before Stan picked up with a sigh. “Why didn’t you answer my texts?”

Richie shrugged, laying down on his back on his bed. “I was with Eddie. Why? What’s going on?”

Stan paused for a few seconds. “I wanted to talk about Eddie, actually.”

Richie sat up, looking at the ground in confusion. “Why?” He could hear Stan talking to someone in the background, as well as some shuffling, before Stan spoke again.

“I think this has gone too far. The bet.”

Richie scoffed. “I did try to say that like, a month ago, Stan. Why are you bringing it up now?”

Stan sighed again. “You’re going to hurt him if you continue with this and you know it. It’s not fair to him, or you, for that matter.”

Richie took a moment to process what Stan was saying. “Stan, I don’t know if I haven’t made it clear enough, but I like him for real. Like, seriously, genuinely have feelings for him.” The line was uncomfortably silent. “Stan?”

“Okay. How are you going to tell him why you went after him in the first place?”

Richie frowned. “I don’t fuckin’ know! Unless you have an idea, I have no intention of telling him until it’s on my deathbed.”

Stan exhaled dejectedly. “You have to at some point.” He pointed out.

“I know,” Richie groaned. “I know and I will, so, just let me deal with it. Why did you call me anyways?”

Stan clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “No reason, I suppose. Is he going to be at the game tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Stan said and took a few beats before continuing. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Without another word, Stan hung up the phone, the line going to dead static on Richie’s end. He pulled the phone back from his ear and stared at the screen, frowning. 

-

The night of Richie’s soccer game was uncharacteristically chilly, most patrons wearing hoodies or light jackets to cover themselves from the cold. It was nearing the end of Fall and the Fall soccer season, so Eddie came prepared. He stood among the rest of the audience in the stands, his hands balled up inside the sleeves of his hoodie and tucked into the front pocket to keep warm. He was rocking back and forth on his heels, watching the soccer game in front of him. Since he had started dating Richie, the rules of soccer started to make more sense. He could easily name the different positions and even knew some of the penalties and why they were called. Half-time had just been called when he felt someone tap him on his shoulder. Eddie turned, a bit startled. “Oh, sorry, hi, Bill. You scared me.”

Bill offered him a friendly smile. “H-Hey, Eddie, can we talk really quick?” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder to a grassy area beside the bleachers that was mostly empty, apart from a man and his dog. 

Eddie glanced back at the game and nodded. “Yeah, sure, I just wanna get back before the game starts back up.”

Bill nodded in agreement, leading Eddie down to the area he had pointed to, the man and his dog moved on from the area, leaving the two of them alone. “So, um, what’s up?” Eddie asked, bouncing on his feet to keep himself warm.

Bill wrung his hands together anxiously and Eddie waited patiently with a confused smile on his face. “You okay?” He eventually asked.

Bill nodded. “Yeah, I juh-just don’t know how to p-phrase it.” He let out a long sigh before talking again. “I… I like you, E-Eddie.”

Eddie’s friendly smile dropped from his face, hating the way his stomach clenched uncomfortably. “Um…”

Bill continued before Eddie had the chance to talk. “I h-have for a good wh-while, too.”

Eddie managed to crack an uneasy grin. “Uh, Bill…” He laughed awkwardly. “You.. Why are you telling me this?”

Bill frowned. “Because I wa-wanted you to know, a-and I think y-you deserve better than Richie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to frown now. “I don’t think you have a say in that.” He mumbled, taking a step back towards the stands. “If that’s all, I’m going to-”

“Wait!” Bill reached out, grabbing Eddie’s arm. 

Eddie gently pulled back from his touch. “Sorry, Bill, I have to get back to wa-”

Bill grimaced. “No! There’s something you need to know.” When Eddie made no move to leave, Bill sighed and spoke. “Richie never liked you.”

Eddie laughed. “Okay, Bill, seriously? We have been together for a good few weeks, I would know if-”

“He’s dating you because of a bet, Eddie!” Bill exploded. “It was Beverly’s idea and Stan knows about it too - He hasn’t told you yet because you guys haven’t slept together and that was part of the deal.”

Eddie’s movements faltered, his body growing colder as Bill spoke. “What?” He asked, shaking his head. “No, you’re making that up. He told me the bet Beverly was talking about had to-”

“-do with Stan. He lied. She was talking about you, Eddie, she always was. Richie’s been lying.”

Eddie let out a shaky breath, turning his back to Bill and facing the field. He could see Richie jogging towards them and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “No… You have to be lying.” 

Richie approached them, smiling at Eddie. His smile faltered, though, when he saw the look on his face. “Eds? Bill? What’s going on?”

Eddie felt his tears prick with tears. “Tell me he’s lying, Richie. Tell me right now.”

Richie was alarmed. “Lying about what?” He turned to Bill. “What did you tell him?” He demanded.

Bill stood his ground. “The truth.”

Eddie was staring at Richie, his eyes burning from oncoming tears. “Did you date me… Are you dating me, for a fucking bet, Richie? You told me Beverly was talking about you and Stan.”

Richie’s face fell, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. “Eds-”

“Tell me!” Eddie cried, reaching out and grabbing a fistful of Richie’s jersey and shaking him a bit. “Tell me right now.”

Richie could feel his entire life fading in front of him. “You have to let me explain.” 

Eddie abruptly dropped his hold on Richie’s jersey and took a step back, tears finally finding their way out of Eddie’s eyes and rolling down his cheeks. “You promised me, Richie.”

Richie tried to close the gap between them, but Eddie pushed him away. “Don’t!”

Richie couldn’t breathe, his world was spinning anxiously around him. He felt like he could get sick right here. “Eddie, please, let me explain. It will make sense, I promise, none of this was fake!”

Eddie scoffed, using his sleeve to wipe away the tears pilling under his eyelashes. “You’re so full of shit. I can’t believe I trusted you, you stupid fucking asshole.” Eddie’s voice was laced with malice and regret; It made Richie’s heart hurt more. Bill made a move towards Eddie, and he backed up from him as well. “I don’t want to fucking talk to you, either.” He threatened, sniffing and glaring at Richie. “If it wasn’t clear, do not ever fucking call me, text me, speak to me again.” With that, Eddie was gone, disappearing around the backside of the bleachers and into the poorly lit school parking lot. 

Richie stood there, shocked and heart-broken, before turning to Bill. “What the fuck did you do?” He asked angrily, moving towards him.

“I-I told him the truth!” Bill said, backing up a bit. “He d-deserves better than you, R-Richie, and you know it!”

Richie pushed Bill harshly by his shoulders. It all clicked. “Oh, and you’re much better?” He pushed him again, Bill falling into the wired fence behind him. “You are a selfish fucking prick, Denbrough, and I’ll make sure everyone fucking knows.”

Bill stood there, leaning against the fence. “Everyone already thinks you are, Richie.” He said, pushing past him to leave, heading the same way Eddie had gone.

Richie stood alone in the grassy area, attempting to calm his rapid thoughts of anger. Bill told Eddie and Eddie believed him and now he was gone. Richie knew he needed to tell Eddie himself but he couldn’t find any time that would have gone better.

Someone approached Richie from behind, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Richie?” It was Stan.

Richie pulled away from his touch. “It was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Stan blinked in surprise. “What?”

“Bill telling Eddie! It was you, wasn’t it? You put the thought in Bill’s head so he would end this stupid bet!”

Stan frowned. “Bill did what? Eddie knows?”

“Yes!” Richie cried. “Eddie fucking knows! Do you see him here, Stan, huh?”

Stan grimaced at Richie’s yelling. “I didn’t tell Bill to do anything. He had a crush on Eddie-”

“Isn’t that fucking sweet.” Richie mumbled, moving past Stan to chase after Eddie. He was going to make things right, he was going to explain himself.

“What about the game?” Stan asked and Richie nearly exploded.

“I don’t give a fuck about anything but Eddie right now, Stan! Isn’t that obvious?”

Stan nodded his head. “Just tell the truth. Tell him how you’ve always felt, Richie, he needs words.”

Richie stared at him for a few beats, before turning to walk away without another word. 

-

hi all!

I'm not dead and i clearly have been rusty with writing reddie specifically, is it as obvious as it feels?

I do intend to finish this fic at some point in the near future. writing this chapter was not as bad as I imagined it would be. i was terribly afraid of how out of my element with these characters I was - but I went back and watched the movie and re-read some of the previous chapters and felt like I could give it a go. i hope to be able to wrap this monster up in one more chapter, so be on the lookout for that. for those of you who have stuck around and are reading this - I love you. thank you for your continued support. this fic was my baby and I intend to have a finished product that I'm at least happy with the last 20% of it. also, if any of you are into anime, I have a separate ao3 account under the name kenmqs so be sure to visit me there.

<3

[oh-look-isa-weeb]

Fly Me to the Moon

Yuri Plisetsky

Celestial beings + royalty AU. You're the Night. He's the Moon. You're stuck together, whether you like it or not.

Notes: A longer post this time! I could have gone with a normal royalty AU but nooo, of course I didn't. I hope this turned out okay! Title is from a Frank Sinatra song of the same name. 

---------------

The Day is the bringer of the Sun; It surrounds it, and it holds the Sun up, just as the Sun brings the Day with it wherever it goes. They move and work together.

The Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is the contrast which allows the Moon to shine brighter, stretching endlessly behind the Moon, the herald to its beauty and grace.

You are the Heir of the Night, training tirelessly to prepare to take on the mantle of the Moon's Guardian, and you are tired.

No, seriously. If you have to hear about the union of the Sun and the Moon one more time, you're going to scream. You mutter exactly that to yourself, under your breath, as you walk through the training facility to your studio. To your surprise, someone replies.

"I know, right? It's gross. If I ever fall in love, hit me."

Who in the world…?

You spin around, coming face-to-face with sea green eyes and golden hair. The same eyes hair you would one day be sworn to protect. Before you stood Yuri Plisetsky, the Heir of the Moon. He didn't know who you were, but you certainly recognised him. After all, you'd been watching his progress since you were selected to become the Heir of the Night. Your life's work would be dedicated to his being.

Only after a split-second did he seem to realise that he had talked to another being, and that he was decidedly not alone. He spun around, glaring.

"Who are you? The hell are you doing here?"

I'm the only one allowed around here, you thought amusedly. You're the trespasser. You wondered if you could tell him that. Heck, what was stopping you? It would be nice to see the look on his face. 

"As a matter of fact, I'm the Heir of the Night. Also known as the person who'll be working with you closely for the entirety of your reign." You pause and shoot him a pointed look. "And the only person allowed in here, Mr. Trespassing Heir of the Moon."

Ah, the sweet satisfaction of watching someone's brain shut down. He sputters for a bit and turns ever-so-slightly pink, scrambling to come up with an excuse.

"If we're gonna work together, w- what's wrong with me being here anyway? I- It's not like I'm not some random civilian!" 

He pauses, and an oddly aged look crosses his features.

"I just- I needed somewhere to get away for a minute, okay? I would very much like to be able to breathe without those two advertising their relationship. And I don't want to go for class," He sighs. "I'll just go now."

Something about the way he says it resonates with you. Maybe it's the resigned tone in his voice, or the weary look on his face. And you understand, you really do. After all, you've been preparing to take up an equally important -- and equally heavy role. Sometimes you wanted an escape, too.

"Do you… Want to stay? And watch for a bit?"

He pauses and turns to look at you. He's trying to act nonchalant, shrugging casually with a "Sure,", but you see the way his shoulders sag a little, as if the tension was released, and his features smoothen out just a fraction. You tell him to make himself comfortable along the sides somewhere and begin running through your combat drills.

As it turns out, Yuri is a pretty courteous audience. He doesn't ask too many questions, and only does when you stop for breaks. At the end of your training session, you sit together, backs to the wall, and bask in companionable silence, taking a breather from the stress that your roles bring you. Finally, you prepare to leave the studio, locking up and exchanging farewells.

"Hey, uh, thanks for letting me stay. I think I needed that. I'll, uh, see you around. I hope."

"Well, we'll meet again eventually. Moon and Night and all that. Feel free to come back anytime, though."

He heads off in the other direction, waving as he walks away. 

You don't see him for a good month.

You don't know why. Did he get in trouble? Did he not want to return? Was he doing alright?

You'd just about given up seeing him until coronation day ever again, until one day you open the door to the studio to find it already unlocked.  You open the door anyway, paying it no mind, and promptly walk face first into something. Someone.

Yuri.

He grumbles about getting crashed into, mumbling a "Watch where you're going, moron" under his breath quietly, but he steps aside to let you in anyway. How did he get in? No, nevermind that, Lilia was coming in today. He shouldn't be here.

"My advisor's coming today. You should get out before you get caught."

He stares at you like you've grown a second head.

"Moron, did no one tell you? I bargained with Yakov. You're gonna teach me to fight, and I'll, well, they'll find something for me to teach you. Anyway, I'm meant to be here, stupid."

You gape at him as Lilia strides past you two and into the studio, thoroughly unimpressed at your expression. She tells you to "close your mouth, you are an Heir, not a fish", and she "certainly did not teach you to dawdle in doorways". You put your stuff down, but you have no clue where to begin. Teach someone? 

Lilia sighs. "The basics, girl, unless you want him to spend more time on his butt than his feet."

Right, you feel like an idiot now. Please let there be a hole to swallow you up. You gesture for Yuri to join you in the centre of the room, and slowly run him through warm-ups.

Over time, you fall into a routine. Some weeks, you teach Yuri to fight, and other weeks, he teaches you dance. Not just waltz, you know how to do that, but other forms of dance. Ballet. Tango. Flamenco. The macarena, because why not, although that was mostly a joke. You meet Yakov, his advisor, as well and the current Sun and Moon, Yuuri and Victor. Most importantly, you meet his cat, and his grandfather. Victor says it's wonderful that Yuri's friends with you. Yuri says he's too nosy.

As the time passes, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You realise that he's actually a kind person, even if he doesn't outwardly show it. And one day, you catch yourself thinking, he's really pretty.

When did you fall for him? You don't know. But as soon as you realise, you never stop realising. You're hyper-aware of everything he does. It frustrates you to no end. You're in the middle of a foxtrot with Yuri, and you can feel yourself flushing wildly. He frowns at you and stops.

"What's up with you? Why've you been so jumpy these days?" He presses a hand to your forehead. "Tch. You're not sick, are you?" You shake your head, but you can't quite meet his eyes.

Because the heat from your cheeks seems to have somehow fried your brain cells, you decide to throw all caution to the wind. You might also be too sleep-deprived to regret this.

"I- I LIKE YOU!" You blurt, before your common sense finally catches up to you and you clap a hand to your mouth. "Ah, sorry, you uh, heard nothing… Ahah…"

He gapes at you, and then he averts his eyes. Great, he totally thinks you're a weirdo. You've just messed up your relationship with the guy you're stuck working with for your entire career.

"I like you too, moron." It's so quiet you could swear you imagined it, but Yuri stands across from you, eyes on the ground, face as flushed as yours. It's your turn to gape at him, as he bites out a "What? Quit staring at me!", although you can tell there's no real heat to his words. 

"I'm glad," you hum, smiling gently as you extend a hand to him, a silent invitation to resume dancing. You let the music wash over you, losing yourself in the steps, and every time your eyes meet, there's a soft smile on his face.

Epilogue

You take your place on the dais next to Yuri, preparing to face the court for your coronation. You'd been there for him before this, through demanding days and insecurities. You'd seen him at his worst, in the days just after Victor announced he was stepping down as the Moon, helping him to fight off his self-doubt. You'd been there for Yuri, and as the new Night and Moon, you'll continue being by his side. As his guardian, but also as his betrothed.

Over the next week, there are ceremonies and festivities, including your wedding, which takes place on the last day. It's a whirlwind of crowds, carnivals, and dancing. You and Yuri have your first dance, the same foxtrot you had been dancing when you got together all those years ago, the same soft smile ever-present on his face, as if it's just you two in the ballroom, like it was back then.

Then the music changes to something more bold, and you charge at each other in a mock-battle, your movements dynamic and explosive, yet graceful, a testament to your proficiency in both combat and dance.

As the night progresses, your friends and family join you on the dance floor, laughing and mingling. There's not much actual dancing happening, but that's perfectly fine, because you're surrounded by loved ones. Someone starts a line dance at some point, and you get everyone who joins to do the macarena, just for laughs. You see Lilia rolling her eyes, but you laugh and pull her into the crowd to join you.

And at the end of the night, you're in the comfort of your room, Yuri by your side. He pulls you in for a sweet, languid kiss. This is the love of your life, the man you'll wake up next to every day for the rest of your life.

After all, the Night is the guardian of the Moon; it is by its side, always. It is the Moon's refuge, its home. It loves the Moon dearly, and the Moon loves it back.

[yungidreamer]

New Beginnings

Summary: Mingi and Yunho go to her house for New Years to have a little time with her over the holidays. Friendly competition and and affection mark the day with a mix of old and new traditions.

Wordcount: 2.9k

Content warnings: This is basically pure family fluff. There is kissing, board games, and a little bit of good natured competition.

“Welcome, boys,” her mother said, greeting them at the door when they arrived. “I’m so glad to have you here.”

“Thanks for letting us come over,” Mingi smiled at her mother as she pulled him into a hug as he stepped inside. She then did the same to Yunho as he stepped inside behind him.

“You both look wonderful,” Her mother beamed at them. “Have you gotten bigger since Thanksgiving?”

“They probably have,” She replied to her mother from her seat on the couch near the Christmas tree. “They eat enough at home they have to still be growing or else they would be three hundred pounds.”

“That’s how it is with boys,” her mother laughed. “Just make sure they have enough to eat and they will sprout like weeds.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure I’m getting chubby,” Mingi sighed, poking a finger at his imagined belly.

“Mmm, sure honey,” she gave him a skeptical look from her seat. 

“No, look,” he protested, coming to sit himself down beside her. Taking her hand in his, he put it on his stomach, just below the belly button. “See?” He moved her hand so she could feel the jiggle he was sure he was developing there.

“I feel skin,” she blinked at him. “And muscle.”

“No one believes me,” Mingi sighed and made a pouty face. 

“Well, you look good chubby,” San placated from where he was stretched out in the big armchair across the room.

“Thank you!” Mingi said with a forceful gratitude. “I hate being skinny.”

“Okay, I don’t think you are getting a pooch or something,” she said from beside him, moving her hand from his stomach to cover one of his own. “But you are getting cuter as you get older.”

“Really?” Mingi looked at her hopefully. She nodded at him and gave a chuckle.

“What about me?” Yunho asked, sitting at her feet and putting his open hands under his chin to frame and present his face to her.

“You too,” she agreed. “You both are getting ever cuter and more handsome, right mom?”

“It’s true,” her mother agreed, amused by the strange dynamic her daughter had with the boys in her life. Again she was forced to wonder why she had never picked one as a boyfriend. Now it wasn’t just those two boys, but San as well. She sighed and shook her head. Maybe she just didn’t understand kids these days.

“Okay, who is ready to play a game?” Her father asked as he came into the room. “We have hours and this is the only time of year I have a captive audience.”

“Sure I’m down,” she agreed, taking her hand off of Mingi. Yunho, San, Mingi, and her mother all agreed as well. Her father was well pleased to have a full set of people to play with. They agreed to start with a friendly game of Trivial Pursuit, a favorite game of both father and daughter.

“You all might regret agreeing to this game,” her mother warned the boys as they all picked their empty circular pie game piece.

“Why?” San asked, a smile playing at the corner of his lips.

“Those two get competitive,” her mother answered as she indicated her two family members with some decidedly enthusiastic pointing.

“I’m only like that with him,” she said defensively. “Someone has to stand up to him.”

“Ha, you only beat me last year because I was having an off day,” her father scoffed and sent her a challenging look.

“I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” She raised a challenging eyebrow to him. The game started with San rolling the highest and winning the chance to be the first player in the game. He successfully answered one question, but failed the second, neither of which were yet in a space where he could earn a wedge. Her father went next and missed his first question, something that made him grumble quietly as the next few people went.

Finally it was her turn. She rolled and landed on a spot for Sports and leisure, leaving Yunho to ask her the question. He pulled the card out, hiding the back with his large hand as he found the question corresponding to the color and subject.

“What goo—“ was all he got out before she sat up straight and interrupted to answer.

“Silly Putty.” She said eagerly.

Yunho stopped, looked at her, then turned the card in his hand, careful to keep the answer hidden. “That...that is correct. How did...just how?”

“No, no way,” Her dad protested. “You cheated. You must have shown her the answer.”

“How? When?” She pointed out with a confident sass.

“You can’t...HE GOT OUT TWO WORDS!?!” He sputtered.

“And I got the right answer,” she crossed her arms over her chest. “So then I get to roll again.”

“You...you…” her father gestured at the board a couple of times before he wilted and gave up his protests. “Just roll again.”

“Thank you, I will,” she jutted out her chin and picked up the die to throw it again. On her second roll she landed on a spot with the possibility of getting a wedge with a correct answer. She did, much to her father’s grumbling, being the first of the players to get a wedge, at least partially due to luck. With the correct answer she had another roll and lucked into a roll again spot, then to another spot where she could win a wedge. Her father insisted on being the one to ask her the question

“How many states border the Gulf of Mexico?” He asked, being very careful to hide the back of the card from her.

“Well Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, and Texas...so five,” she reasoned out.

“Correct,” Her father pursed his lips. “That was too easy for a wedge.” He grumped even as he pulled a blue one out for her to put in. She rolled again and landed on a square for arts and literature.

“This French artist became known for his lithographic posters.” Her father read out and Yunho felt a surge of pride when he heard the question. He knew she knew the answer to that, heck, he knew the answer to that because of her.

“Seurat,” she answered after a pause and a look that Yunho couldn’t quite read. 

“Ha, no, Toulouse-Lautrec,” Her father gave a satisfied smile and encouraged San to pick up the die and take his turn. Yunho looked down at her, trying to read her expression again.

“Can you help me get a drink?” He asked her, giving her a little elbow and a look. She nodded and stood up, following him the short distance to the kitchen. He let her pull a cup from the cabinet, which put her out of sight of everyone in the living room, before he leaned down and whispered in her ear, “I know you knew the answer to that question.”

“It’s no fun if the game ends too fast,” she shrugged and answered back.

“How long has it been since this game was a challenge for you?” Yunho asked, gently caressing her arm.

“A couple of years,” she admitted, looking up at him with a smile. “But it’s still fun to play.”

“Just...don’t let him win to be nice,” he told her gently. “I think he’ll be proud of you really.”

“I know, but no one will play with you if you win in like two turns,” she pointed out.

“It’s so hot that you’re smart,” he groaned.

“Mmmm, sexy big brain,” she joked back before heading to the fridge to pull out the soda to pour some for him.

“Hell yeah,” he whispered from behind her, sneaking a squeeze of her butt just before they would enter the view of everyone else. They returned to the game as her mother took her turn. Rounds passed and it was, as predicted, mostly a battle between father and daughter, with everyone else doing their best but really thoroughly enjoying the spectacle of the battle between the two of them. It took, or perhaps she let it last, an hour and a half before she landed in the center spot again and answered a final question of her choice to win the game. Her father sighed and extended a hand of congratulations to her. He had managed to gather five of six wedges, leaving him in second place with San and Mingi one behind him. Yunho and her mother had three each and were plenty pleased with the results, having had fun both playing and watching everyone else play the game.

With hours to kill still, her father suggested a game of monopoly which was met with a chorus of groans and flat out no from her mother. He protested, saying it would be fun and they had plenty of time before the New Years Extravaganza show even started. He finally settled for playing a game of backgammon with his daughter, which was really what he wanted most. He would never have asked her to stay at home or to go somewhere closer, but he missed having her around. Playing games with the whole family was great, her friends were wonderful, but he missed spending time with her.

While they played, everyone else hung out, socialized, and showed off the things they had gotten for Christmas. Jacob showed San and Mingi his new games and they played a couple of rounds with him on the little portable player. San and Mingi mostly had fun sabotaging each other as they went around the little race track, primarily focusing on making sure the other person didn’t finish ahead of them.

Dinner was a mix of the last of the leftovers along with a mix of anything quick and easy people wanted to make for themselves. Mingi made himself a bowl of ramen and shared it with her as she played a second game of backgammon with her father. Mingi had to admit, not knowing the rules of the game, it mostly seemed like an incomprehensible jumble of rolling and moving things around in strange ways. Mingi sat and watched, feeding her an occasional slurp of noodles.

By the time the second game ended the New Year’s Extravaganza was beginning on TV and her mother had switched it on in the background. Everyone settled in to relax and watch the series of performers and over excited hosts as they talked with various famous people who came and went on the Times Square stage. They recognized some of the people, but not all. It didn’t really matter though, they were there for the spectacle of the crowds all stuffed in together cheering whenever the camera panned their way. Their collective breaths clung in the still, cold air as they breathed, chatted, and shouted excitedly, waiting for midnight.

At home they watched all the buzz of the excitement in a lazy comfort. Having finished the last game with her father, she was stretched out on the couch, her feet resting on San’s lap with her boys sitting near her on the floor, leaning against the couch. Her brother was still glued to his new game and handheld player, his face a mask of concentration as he played. Her parents were seated together in the armchair watching the program and talking quietly.

When it was quarter to midnight her mother got out a couple of bottles of sparkling juice and champagne flutes for everyone so they could all toast and ring in the New Year. Everyone was given a glass and poured a little of the champagne stand in and the program on the TV was turned up to listen to the last few hyped minutes of the program.

“Oh I almost forgot!” Her mother exclaimed suddenly.

“Mom, you’re not getting the herring,” her daughter cringed.

“It’s good luck,” her mother responded as she passed her on the way into the kitchen.

“Awww mom,” Jacob shook his head and made a face.

“It’s just a bite,” her mother scolded, coming back with the jar of pickled herring and a small fork. “And if it brings you good luck then it’s worth it isn’t it?”

“It’s a superstition, mom,” she pointed out. “There is no evidence for, like, any of that.”

“And it does you no harm to have a bite...just in case,” her mother wagged her finger at her. Her daughter rolled her eyes and huffed, but let it go.

Finally the time came and everyone counted down to midnight. On the TV, the people on the stage shouted the countdown loudly as the numbers flashed on some of the huge screens across Time Square and the large ball flashed brightly in various patterns as it prepared to drop. Midnight hit, the ball fell, and cheers rose both from the crowd in and inside the warm living room. Everyone toasted each other and took a sip as the strains of Auld Lang Syne played on the television. The camera pulled back and eventually faded to a shot of the city  from the water, showing the colorful burst of fireworks happening against the iconic New York City skyline.

Her mother and father gave each other a quick kiss and her brother sipped his drink and made a little oh brother face. Mingi’s eyes flashed to Yunho and then to their girl. Yunho flashed him a small, understanding smile back, communicating I know, me too. He wanted to kiss them, to celebrate that moment with them like any other couple could. But they couldn’t, not here, not with her parents.

Behind them San caught the look they shared, understanding the emotions behind it. An idea struck him, it was weird, it might not go over well, but hell, it was worth a try. San sat up straight, cleared his throat and gave Mingi’s shoulder a tap. Sitting in front of him on the floor, Mingi turned to look at San with a questioning expression on his face. San took his cheeks between his hands and angled his head slightly before pressing a close-lipped kiss to him.

To say that Mingi was surprised was perhaps an understatement. Mingi froze under the kiss, not quite sure how he was supposed to react. San pulled back then scooted closer to her on the couch, pulling her into a close mouthed kiss as well. When he had left her well and truly surprised, he moved on to Yunho. When he pulled back, he paused near Yunho’s ear and whispered. “Now you can kiss them and all they are going to remember is that I started this.”

A surprised expression spread across Yunho’s face as he realized what exactly San had just managed to do. He had given them cover for a New Year’s kiss, even though it was probably at the expense of a good amount of his dignity, but he still did it. Yunho turned where he sat and pulled her into a soft and innocent kiss, his thumb caressing her cheek for a moment as he did. He pulled back before he wanted to, but knowing that he couldn’t take too much license. He leaned over to Mingi and shared a kiss with him as well. Mingi crawled over to get his kiss in with their girl, sneaking in a squeeze to her hand as he brushed his lips over hers.

“You know,” her father observed, clearing his throat as he scratched the back of his neck. “Friendship has really changed since I was a kid.”

“No, they’re all just weird,” Jacob said, blinking at them for a couple more seconds before he went back to his game.

By quarter to one the boys were bid good night and sent home with hugs and warm wishes. She promised to come over in the next couple of days and see Yunho and his mother. It had been too long since she had been able to see her, she admitted. Yunho and Mingi were sad to go and wanted more than anything a moment alone with her, but it was not to be.

In her house everyone shuffled off to bed after brushing their teeth and washing up. Work would start in another day or two for her parents and it was only a week until they all went back to school. She couldn’t wait. She ended up in the bathroom with San, brushing her teeth at the same time as they got ready to bed.

“So, I guess I owe you something,” she said quietly after spitting.

“Nah,” San told her after rinsing his mouth out. “What is a big brother for except helping you outwit the parents for a good cause?”

“You… are a sneaky bastard and I am going to remember this,” she laughed. “I look forward to you using my IOU for a visit.”

“Yeah?” San asked, pulling her into a hug.

“Yeah,” she nodded her head where it rested against his chest. “Best big brother, ever.”

“So you’re gonna keep me?” He teased, leaning his head on top of hers.

“Looks like,” she laughed. “Happy New Year and welcome to the family, like for real.”

“Thank you, Chipmunk,” he nuzzled into her hair, happy to have had such a wonderful place and wonderful people to start fresh with.

Masterlist

[gayregis]

Talk to me about Regis, please; headcanons, why/what you like about him, etc. I love him, but there's not a whole lot of (book-based) content about him (That's probably for the better actually, just look at what twn did to Dandelion; there's a bunch of content but it's all ooc or just straight up infantilizing him because uwu innocent baby - gosh I hope twn fandom don't get their hands on Regis)

this is such a great ask ;w;

committment to principles, breaking of tropes

let’s get the deep and emotional parts out of the way. i love regis for being a good person. “epitome of humanity” and all of this. i love how he was an incredibly cruel and violent man and has become a kind person and someone committed to helping others. i find this a very comforting fantasy to be close to and think about. i like how this process was not instantaneous, it took more than 50 years and a good amount of time after that... i love how sapkowski used the idea of an immortal/extremely long lifespan for an arc of redemption and becoming a better person. regis is only a vampire because sapkowski needed him to be able to survive death and reconsider his actions... for most people, death would be the finality... and i like how regis, when recounting his backstory, doesn’t ever make excuses for himself or dwell upon his behavior. he doesn’t speak of consuming guilt, he doesn’t make useless apologies. he has accepted the past and is not looking for attention when he says all of this, it’s merely for context. so he doesn’t seek validation from others, he has already validated himself because he knows that he has become a better person.

i love how regis is an inversion of the vampire tropes... not the ones that are like “vampires can’t touch sunlight/be around garlic/enter houses without invitation, etc.” but the ones that concern vampire origins and what being alive for hundreds of years does to a person’s mind. the “traditionally accepted vampire lore” would have some human losing their humanity over many years, becoming distant from human morality and ethics. regis is a complete inversion of this. instead of being a human who has lost their morality, he is a monster who has gained his morality. he made a committment to learn and understand, and how he sincerely works for good.

hinting and character reveal

i LOVE the buildup to his character reveal. from the moment the company meets him in a cemetery during the dark of night, it should be apparent that he is not what he seems. this added to the fact that they then meet peasants who were searching for a vampire in the very same cemetery, and regis somehow knows all of these accurate facts about vampires... it’s simply entertaining to read or listen to how it all unfolds. 

the dramatic reveal is brilliant. i love how it occurs in a scene where regis was doing absolutely nothing but healing dandelion. i love how only regis and geralt knew what this was about, so we received narration in milva’s point of view because milva is the most observant of the other three that were in the company, and she slowly noticed all of these little features about regis that she didn’t notice before... his eyes glowed in the low light with an eerie catlike quality, he didn’t cast a shadow...! it’s good writing because there was significant buildup behind it. we already thought we knew regis, we got all of these hints towards his true identity, and now he’s being revealed as just that, but slowly, slowly... sapkowski doesn’t have geralt immediately yell “HE’S A BLOODY VAMPIRE!” ... it’s a very drawn out conversation. i love how regis doesn’t react much when geralt rests the sword on the hollow of his neck. he says, “well, geralt, i’m all yours,” as if geralt was beckoning him to a conversation and not standing above him with a glistening sword in his hand. and then regis just smiles and challenges him to “go on, thrust it in!” ... just entirely casual and smug. it’s creepy and yet so funny!

and i love how everything about his character seems to make more sense once his backstory is revealed. especially the part where he says he never drinks, not even a sip... after you read the part where he describes his backstory, you realize that this is a nice nod to what is revealed later on.

ability to challenge geralt

i’ll segway the last point into this one: i love how regis is just a straight up bitch to geralt in baptism of fire after he is revealed. during the reveal scene he starts mocking geralt, asking him if he’s going to let him get away, asking him how high he would value a contract on him. geralt tells him to never come back TWICE, and TWICE he returns. he appears to geralt, sits down right next to him, begins to deliver him a great monologue of advice. geralt tells him to fuck off, he just sighs “as you wish,” and continues to give advice.

regis acts on his OWN terms. geralt does not control the speed at which lobsters die vampire. regis acts like a c*nt because he simply can because he knows that geralt can’t fight him on it. what’s he going to to, kill him? ha!

regis came in at exactly the right time. dandelion is geralt’s best friend, but this means that dandelion knows geralt and knows what he’s like, and geralt knows what dandelion’s like. geralt sees dandelion’s unwavering loyalty to him as dangerous, because he doesn’t want to lose dandelion, so he blocks out whatever dandelion says about “i want to go with you, i need to go with you.” geralt knows that dandelion’s only saying this because they have such a deep relationship, and isn’t willing to risk that relationship when he thinks that it doesn’t need to be risked (i.e., that he can handle this without anyone else’s help). milva doesn’t have this long friendship with geralt, but she is his friend, and she’s known him for a few months. she knows that geralt is acting stupidly, and tells him this to his face. but geralt can sense that because she’s also his friend and because she is acting out of some sense of penance, he can’t accept her company, either. geralt is able to push both dandelion and milva away, because he can. he can tell them he doesn’t want to be bothered, he wants to be alone. 

enter regis, who simply will just not take “go away” for an answer. regis has been compared to other sages and philosophers in and out of the text, but i think this is very socrates of him. he’s the gadfly to geralt’s sluggish horse. he is able to rouse him simply by annoying the ever loving shit out of him, returning when geralt has told him to leave, giving advice when geralt has told him to shut up. and it’s for good reason, regis doesn’t do this to harm geralt, but to help him. and because he’s regis, he literally has all of the time in the world and the power to be able to annoy geralt like this. he can’t be swayed by stern petulance because it just is like nothing to him, water off of a duck’s back. he has this unbearable attitude of knowing that he’s right. this doesn’t make regis a perfect character - far from it, i would say that this is one of his biggest flaws in fact - but in this situation, it works.

optimism, kindness, healer class

i thoroughly enjoy how the immortal member of the company that has lived for over 4 centuries is such an optimist in everything he does. “it is simply a matter of positive thinking” and all of this nonsense... he’s very content and cheerful all of the time. i made a post counting every time regis is mentioned to be smiling... and it’s a lot. he is also always mentioned to be spekaing softly, calmly, gently... he has a very gentle nature!

regis is a very placating force in the company, he tries to resolve arguments between different parties (milva and the peasants who wanted her horse, milva and angouleme at the kitchen table). he assumes there’s always a good resolution that can be reached.

and the fact that he’s a healer ties it all together. i love how sapkowski actually describes everyone’s profession with detail and length, it makes the fantasy medievalesque setting more immersive, since one’s profession is extremely significant to one’s whole character in a setting like this. regis gets that short monologue about how dandelion is lucky to have gotten this head wound and not an abdominal wound, what with the liver, guts, feces mangled and spilling out... peritonitis... regis actually being described as healing people makes it feel like his character is useful and is actually a surgeon (unlike in the games where he doesn’t ever heal anyone). 

he sincerely cares about the human condition and expresses regret and pain when he cannot do anything to cure someone, even though he can sense their sickness. he describes this as literally being “a curse,” that demonstrates how difficult it is for him, and it’s only difficult for him because he cares.

blending in with human society and the quirks that come with it

i love the precautions regis has to take to continue blending in with human society. he smiles with pursed lips as to not show his fangs, but when he is with friends he ends up smiling fully. he has to continue to mask his presence with the blend of herbs. he has to avoid mirrors, dogs, and sorcerer/esses. horses dislike him even with the herbs he carries, and fulko artevelde mentions that “horses and dogs brisk at [the] company’s approach.” these small details are fun and keep reminding the audience that it’s not simple to blend in with human society, and there always IS something off about regis. hell, just shine a bright lamp on all of the company together, and you’ll see that their barber-surgeon doesn’t cast a shadow. the probably reason that they didn’t notice he didn’t cast a shadow was because of how overcast it is around that area of brugge. when they get into beauclair, i headcanon that regis doesn’t tend to walk on the sunny side of the street because of wanting to hide the fact that he won’t cast a shadow. 

there’s a lot of different conditions that are necessary to consider in relevance of keeping his identity hidden, and regis does a pretty good job at navigating all of them. i appreciate that these details were written in because it makes it more realistic... even though sapkowski broke multiple vampire tropes with regis, so you know, he won’t burn in sunlight or have adverse reactions to garlic, but there’s still all of these odd ends that he needs to take care of. it makes him seem a lot less overpowered, because it continouslly reminds the audience that he doesn’t blend in perfectly.

“benevolent ominousness”

regis has a very fun supernatural presence, and he only ever uses his powers for good.

things like saving the girl from the refugee camp by sticking his hand into flames and holding a white-hot horseshoe with absolutely no hesitation... saving geralt and dandelion by materializing out of shadow... also appearing out of nowhere to milva and cahir in the forest and milva trying to choke out a grateful sob at his presence... saving ciri at castle stygga by absolutely wrecking the entire lab, with blue flames dancing on the countertops, and then turning around in that chair and saying “don’t be afraid.”

it’s things like this that i have dubbed “benevolent ominousness” - these demonstrations of power would be extremely unsettling, if you didn’t know him and know that he was there to protect you. the embodiment of “you may rest now, there are monsters nearby.”

humor and lighthearted nature despite dark themes, great lines

this isn’t the same humor that sapkowski uses elsewhere... it’s mostly funny due to the line delivery and context. some regis dialogue is just funny, especially when peter kenny voice acts them. 

things like regis telling geralt his travel plan is very well-concealed after dandelion gets done telling him everything about it (”and ingeniously concealed, no one would ever suspect the direction of your journey”), regis lifting the horseshoe from the fire and then challenging the priest to perform an exorcism on him, regis appearing to geralt and sitting next to him and during his monologue he’s mocking him and saying “it should be your exclusive right,” geralt saying “shut up, vampire!” during the fish soup scene when regis begins to give him unsolicited advice again. regis’s entire backstory being a blatant metaphor for alcoholism and the equivalencies to human culture (”driving while drunk” = “flying while drunk”), though macabre, are hilarious. regis telling angouleme "i’m not your uncle, dear child,” and she replies, “and i’m not your dear child, uncle!” WHILE ALSO riding on his mule as well. even to the very end, all of his lines and presence at stygga were brilliant. like “i feel such strength inside me, i could probably lay waste to this entire castle,” as he loses it. “beware? i didn’t come here to beware!” as he just charges vilgefortz absolutely unhinged.

honorable mentions

his liking of philosophy and sociology and discussions about all of this

you could argue that regis talks a lot because he probably doesn’t feel how long he’s been talking for. if half a century is “the blink of an eye,” then what’s 10 minutes of monologue?

all of the vampire powers are very cool and come on. i could have literally answered this ask with one word and that word would have been “bat.” he’s a fucking giant bat. that’s epic as hell

fun and tragic potential for his backstory.

meme potential in the fact that he is modest and calm by default. can you imagine regis saying “bitch” ??? or burstin out enthusiastically in song lyrics?? it cracks me up to think about him being out of character for a split second, just for humorous effect.

also yeah if twn and/or its fandom gets their hands on regis i wont know whether to laugh or cry

[dkscribe88]

Tavronica Week Prompt 2: Dreamfasting

This one is a sequel/explanation for the events depicted in the first day’s poem. It’s a bit of a read, just so you know. I’m thinking of turning it into a short chapter series later on, after I’ve completed other projects. Brief warning to any fans of Mayrin reading this. She is not nice in this. At all. Sorry in advance.

Onica had gotten Tavra safely to her ship, easing her down onto the hammock that hung in the seer’s quarters and going to grab various healing herbs. Her back was turned to her patient as she threw the herbs, along with various other powders into a mortar to grind. She glanced back once at her girlfriend, before sighing as she brought up the subject.

“So, where were you? And why in Thra did it take you a whole trine to get back?” She asked, voice calm, yet curious. Tavra stared back at her through weary eyes. Onica could tell the soldier had suffered just as much through their separation as she had herself.

“I was sent to fortify the border near the Caves of Grot. Our unit was told that Arathim had been spotted in the nearby forest and as commanding officer of the guard, it was my duty to roust the beasts. What I didn’t know, is that there were no Arathim.” Onica walked over with a bottle, rags, and the poultice she’d been preparing and pulled Tavra’s sleeve off her shoulder. A dirtied bandage covered what looked to be a long cut from a sword. Onica removed the sullied item before dabbing some of what was in the bottle onto a rag and pressing it onto the wound.

“Aaugh! Eel feathers, woman, what are ya trying to do, burn my arm off!” Onica kept her grip on the soldier’s arm firm as she continued to apply more of the disinfectant. Tavra’s eyes teared up uncontrollably and she did her best not to shrink back from the painful healing. Finished with that unpleasantness, Onica gently dabbed at the wound’s edges before applying the poultice and wrapping the arm in clean bandages.

“Here,” Onica went and grabbed the kettle from its heat source, pouring Tavra and herself a nice hot cup of ta. She added lavender to both and a bit of something extra in Tavra’s cup to help her with the pain. “Drink this. You’ll soon feel better. Now you were saying you went to guard the border from these imaginary Arathim?” Tavra groaned.

“Look, it’s just-” Tavra sighed and shook her head. “I was there because of you. Wait, that came out wrong. I was sent away for a trine by mother because…because she found out…about us.” Onica didn’t often show anger enough for most people to notice it, but Tavra saw the rapidly developing signs and knew she had to do something before the redhead blew her top, so she offered her hand, palm out.

Onica didn’t take the bait right away. Instead, she grumbled and growled around her quarters while Tavra watched in silence, gently swaying in the hammock. The seer would tire herself out soon, and then she would dreamfast. There’s no way she’d refuse to watch the All-Maudra’s interference into their lives. She wanted a good, long look into the great and royal Vapra Queen’s judgmental, bigoted face.

Finally, she stopped pacing, taking a minute to compose herself before moving back over by Tavra. She sat down with her in the hammock, laying back and gently pulling her love to rest her head against her shoulder.

“I’m not sorry for being upset, but I am ready now to see what happened.” Her hand reached across and took the offered touch, their eyes closing as a soft blue glow lit the cabin’s interior.

-----------

Tavra walked down the hallways of the Citadel towards her room. She’d finished her training for the day and had plans to take a quick bath before making her way through the city and down to the seafarer’s lantern to meet with Onica. She looked down, smiling at the small seashell necklace her love had given her on their last meeting. That had been over three unum ago. The Sifa fleet had just recently arrived at Ha’rar’s port for the spring season.

As she turned a corner, Tavra ran right smack into her sister. Books and scrolls flew everywhere, and Brea let out an indignant squeak as she bounced off a muscular chest before landing on her bum.

“Oh-my-goodness, I’m so sorry. I-I wasn’t looking where I was- Tavra? Oh, it’s you!”

“Yes Brea, I am me…Tavra. Are you all right? Here, let me help you pick those up.”

“Oh, no! You don’t have time for that!”

“I don’t?”

“No! Mother sent me to find you. She requests an audience with you immediately.” Tavra frowned at this news. Her meet-up with Onica would have to be delayed.

“Did she say what it’s about?” Brea nearly ignored her, so invested was she in the scroll she’d just picked up.

“Hmm? Oh, no. Just that I needed to tell you to go and see her right now.” Brea went back to picking up her things. Tavra nodded before heading to the throne room. Soon she stood before the entrance to the large chamber, doing her best to mentally prepare herself before meeting with her formidable mother. She walked into the hall, back straight, with the intimidating posture of a soldier, and a face void of emotion. Once she was close enough, she quickly went down on one knee, head bowed as was proper when a soldier meets their Maudra. Mayrin looked down her nose at her daughter.

“Tavra.” She addressed her.

“Yes, All-Maudra, you sent for me?”

“My scouts tell me there have been Arathim spotted in the forest near the Caves of Grot. I want you to prepare and lead a regiment to fortify our borders and cleanse the forest from these fiends. You’ll leave as soon as you’re ready. Go.” Tavra was horrified by the news. How would she get word to Onica now?

“But Mo-”

“Do not question your Maudra. Whatever you had to do before now can wait. Or are you willing to sacrifice the lives of innocents to complete your errand?” Mayrin gave her a hard, knowing stare. Tavra couldn’t risk going against her. Not if she hoped to continue seeing her Sifa.

“I will go now, my All-Maudra.” Tavra left and packed up all she’d need for the trip. She picked a mix of new and veteran paladins, then mounted her landstrider, glancing back tearfully towards the shore hidden beyond the mountain pass before urging her mount forward.

When they arrived at the forest near Grot, they thoroughly checked the forest, but found no evidence that Arathim had been there. So Tavra waited…

One full unum later there was still not a sign of the armored spiders. The regiment was ready to pack up and head for home the very next day, but before they had a chance, a message arrived, stating that they were to be stationed there indefinitely. Tavra thought this very strange and when yet another unum passed with no activity, she decided that enough was enough. She harnessed her landstrider and left to confront her mother about this fool’s errand.

Arriving at the Citadel a few days later, Tavra walked briskly into the throne room, quickly kneeling before a shocked Mayrin.

“Mother, I request an-”

“You were ordered, paladin, to remain at the border, that you might protect innocent lives by guarding against the Arathim. Do you think yourself tall, disobeying your All-Maudra?” Mayrin’s voice was cold, as if addressing a stranger. Tavra refused to be turned away.

“There is no sign of Arathim being anywhere near our borders. No tracks, no webs, nothing. Why are we there, mother? Which scouts made the report?” Tavra kept her voice calm through the growing apprehension that seized her. Something about this seemed wrong. Her mother had never treated her this harshly before, no matter what mistakes she may have made in the past.

Other members of the court, and guards were present in the room and could feel the mounting tension. They were shocked that Tavra had dared to question the All-Maudra so, and curious about why some of their best paladins were doing seemingly nothing when there were other, more pressing concerns to worry about within Vapra territory. Mayrin took note of their disquiet, as some began to whisper amongst themselves. She needed to act before things got out of hand. She spoke out with emotionless authority.

“This court is finished for today. Everyone, please leave now. I must speak to this paladin alone. We are not to be disturbed.” Again, she distanced herself from her daughter, causing anxiety to well in Tavra’s mind. The throne room was quickly vacated, except the All-Maudra, and Tavra herself. She remained kneeling on the floor, unable to sense if she was allowed to get back up yet.

Neither one spoke for several minutes. Mayrin was taking her time, causing Tavra to become even more nervous. She stood up from her throne, maintaining her regal façade as she slowly walked over to where her daughter knelt. Her rigid gate suggested anger and Tavra braced herself.

“Stand.” Tavra did as ordered, feeling colder than she’d ever felt before. She faced her mother, eyes unwavering in their determination, despite her nerves.

“Why did you send me to guard against nothing? Was there something you needed to keep hidden from me mother? You allowed me to choose who went with me, so I know I was the one you wanted away from Ha’rar. Please, tell me why.”

“You speak of me hiding things from you, but it is you that’s tried to keep things hidden from me. You have failed.” Tavra felt an icy hand squeeze at her soul. Her ears dropped and a look of fear spread over her face. “The spring and autumn seasons seem to have some strange effects on your abilities to perform as captain of my paladins. Late arrivals for morning duties, guards loitering around, waiting to be given orders. Waiting on you. Do you understand how that makes our family look? To our people. To the lords when they grace us with a visit? You have a responsibility to the Vapra, to maintain a strong, dignified image and project that image in everything you do. Yet here I find you, sneaking off somewhere with some degenerate, Far-Dreaming Sifa! Unacceptable! I will not allow you to sully our family’s good name any further. I had to do something, so I did.”

“Mother, what have you done? Where are they?” Tavra demanded, fearful of what may have befallen Onica while she was away. “If you’ve hurt them, I’ll never forgive you!” Mayrin scoffed at this.

“You see? Disobedience! Defying the will of your All-Maudra. Disgraceful! You’ve let yourself become corrupted, ensnared by their sorcery!”

“Mother, what have you done to them?!”

“Hmph! I have done nothing to them. Whoever they are, they’re probably back in Cera-Na, throwing themselves at their next victim.” Tavra barely stopped herself from stepping forward and slapping her mother.

“You’re wrong! They aren’t like that. They’re kind to me. They listen to me. And they love me without conditions, which is more than I can say about you!”

“SILENCE!” Mayrin’s voice almost seemed to shake the room. “You are a paladin! Your job is to obey your All-Maudra’s command, not flounce about with some…mixed clan magicker! Now, you will do as you’re told, paladin, and return to your assigned station. Your job will be to train hard in self-discipline, until you move on from this little phase you’re having and grow up. You are Vapra royalty and you will marry whichever Vapra I choose for you. You are to have no further contact with the Sifa until you have convinced me that you followed your orders. Is. That. Clear?!”

“You cannot keep me from being happy, mother. I refuse to let you control my life any longer!” Mayrin’s face turned into a snarl, before she quickly stomped over to the doors.

“Guards, get in here! Now!” The paladins quickly did as commanded, four of them entering the chamber. Mayrin gave them a cold, threatening stare. “You are to escort Princess Katavra back to her post at the border and you will keep her there until otherwise instructed. She is not to contact anyone. Failure to carry out these commands will result in the severest of punishments.” The soldiers stood there, unable to believe what they were hearing. After several seconds of inaction, Mayrin’s face hardened even more. “MOVE!” They all jumped, before scrambling over and surrounding their captain. Tavra had no choice, but to go with them.

A feeling of severe loneliness permeated throughout the dream link as time moved forward. Flashes of memories came slowly, as if ten trine were passing, instead of one.

Tavra, being led back to the border camp in disgrace.

The paladins she’d chosen on the initial mission packing up and leaving, their replacements handpicked by the All-Maudra. Tavra would find no friends there.

The princess, curled into a ball on her bunk, crying softly, so her guards couldn’t hear her.

And finally, the day of the training accident. A soldier known to dislike Tavra the most swung his sword at full force towards her, the princess just managing to dodge. Her heart was not in this fight. It had been torn from her body long ago. It was clear this man didn’t care if he killed her, and if she could not be with her love, then she didn’t care either.

There was a flash of steel, then Onica’s vision went red, and pain briefly overwhelmed her before her vision cleared to show an image of Tavra escaping from a medical tent left virtually unguarded.

A final memory surfaced of Tavra spotting the Waystar’s glow, following it down to where they were in the present.

-----------

Tavra removed her touch from Onica’s hand, breaking the link. She tried to stop it but could not defend against the tears that streaked down her cheeks. Onica pulled her love into a protective embrace, simply holding her as she cried.

“I’m so sorry.” She sobbed. “I tried to get back to you for so long.”

“Shh…It’s alright. Tavy, there was nothing you could do. No soldier alive would risk disobeying the All-Maudra…Well, one soldier did…and I love you all the more for it.” A gentle kiss was laid upon Tavra’s temple as Onica continued to comfort her throughout the night, until the tears were stopped, and they fell asleep, Tavra still wrapped in Onica’s loving arms. They were together now, and that’s all that mattered.

-DK

[juminly]

Sugar & Spice

Matchup story written for @nafeary. ❤

Context: From the moment you walked through that door, you made yourself at home (at an incredible pace). Some of the residents were more than pleased to have someone new in the mansion, someone that could stir things up a bit and make things a bit livelier. And others (mostly Mozart, Jean and Isaac) wondered why they would even hope to disrupt the semblance of peace that they have.

You were surrounded by geniuses of all the arts and you were definitely going to take advantage of that. You took the time to spend time with each one of the residents or they would even invite you to spend time with them. Mozart told you about his music and would let you listen while he composed (after you made him understand that you would not leave him alone cause this is an opportunity of a lifetime that you wouldn’t miss), history and warfare from Napoleon, physics from Isaac and the list goes on and on.

One of the residents that seemed to be irritated by your presence was Theodorus. Or at least, that’s what you thought. He always had snarky comments, stating his opinion even when he wasn’t asked. It only seemed that you argued all the time.

[The few times that he’s called you “Hondje”, the punches he got from you were enough to make him stop. You were not all bark, you would bite too (he loved that but never admitted it)]

But that wasn’t the truth. You could call it “intellectual tension”. You were constantly engaged in debates without you noticing it. Theodorus had a wealth of knowledge when it came to the arts, appraising assets and had a keen eye for talent and genius.

He saw something in you and sometimes deep inside him actually believed that he didn’t really have anything to teach you and he somehow had to prove himself.

The day that brought you closer together was a very very weird idea from Sebastian. This man suddenly comes up with things and everyone has to go along with him because he always puts it under the guise of “this was advised by Monsieur le Comte”. He had prepared a cooking lesson where he taught you how to make the most delicious pancakes. Theodorus had a ferocious sweet tooth and if pancakes were involved, he would definitely play nice. And since he was guaranteed a plate stacked with over 8 pancakes, for the first time since you arrived, both of you actually had a nice time together, teasing one another about your techniques and talked about everything and anything that crossed your minds.

From that day and onwards, you would often bond over pancakes (and even go on walks) and he’d be interested to know about the exploits of other artists in the future (and see how he can learn from the information you have to give him).

[he once said: “are you ready for your walk, Hondje?” and you made him regret him by refusing to talk to him until he apologized profusely and in front of all residents for  his insolent behaviour]

As an avid lover and fanatic of Shakespeare and English literature in general, almost every single resident in the mansion froze when you mentioned his name. Except for Vincent. He was delighted to take you to see him.

In Theodorus’ mind, Shakespeare was a threat. To his brother and to you (he didn’t necessarily care about you [that’s what he tells himself] but you were the Comte’s guest so all residents had some sort of responsibility to ensure your safety]. He never liked him and he never will. He recognizes his genius but could clearly see, in those dichotomic eyes, an abyss of grief, darkness and sin. The man was starved for his muse and the universe to bless him with inspiration to create more art. And Theodorus didn’t want you to be a victim of that. 

[Shakespeare was no threat to you. He was pleased by your fascination with his work and enjoyed your conversations. He noticed the younger Van Gogh’s behaviour and knew for a fact that there would be other individuals who would have a part in your story. He would have to sit this one out and just watch.]

Everytime you and Vincent had a visit to Shakespeare’s place, Theodorus would escort you there and back. If it were anyone else, he wouldn’t give a damn but something inside him wanted to interact more with you. He knew that you could possibly open more doors for him. He noticed that you had an eye for things, very perceptive and analytical and your curiosity was your best trait. The more information you get, the better decisions and arguments you can make.

On your way to and from Shakespeare’s place, you and Theodorus would sometimes take detours while Vincent would go buy painting supplies. The younger Van Gogh would take you to art galleries, ask your opinion about other artists’ pieces and as time went by, he started taking you with him when he’d try to negotiate deals for certain venues. You would help him assess the locations, the type of public/audience that surrounded the area and debate on whether it would get the right exposure for Vincent’s art.

The more you both interacted with one another, you discovered that you both might seem like you’re rough around the edges but what drives you the most is your curiosity and your desire to uncover/discover the broad horizons that the world actually had to offer. Theodorus believed in you and knew that you were capable of so much and was so glad that you found yourself in the mansion with all these men, to learn and be who you aspire to be. 

After a while, Mozart was so used to your behaviour which was bizarre to him but completely normal to you. You didn’t take it personally cause Mozart thought everyone was weird. Listening to the composer just play, day and night, ethereal music just swimming in the air and coursing through your body. You would close your eyes and enjoy the music, and sometimes, even dance to it.

Theo passed by the room a few times and thought that you were probably out of your mind… Then after a few times, he couldn’t help but sneak into the music room and dance with you. He was surprisingly light on his feet and it said a lot about his upbringing, something that he was not fond of talking about, but you couldn’t blame him for it.

Genuine smile and seemed like he was enjoying himself, he held you up and twirled you around, letting your feet land on his so he could do all the leading and you would just have to enjoy the ride. Dancing together, your laughter was enough to earn you both a good scolding from Mozart, however, you could see the slight quirk in the corner of his lips. He was pleased to see others thoroughly enjoy his music.

Your interactions with Arthur were always interesting. And this man had a thing with harassing you in the hallway, inviting you into his room, leaning in close, wanting to show you all the joy and pleasure a vampire has to offer. It became more of a joke and a type of banter you would engage in with the mystery writer. However, Theo was not aware of that. He happened to pass by one of your interactions one day and didn’t hesitate to growl loudly at Arthur for making a pass at you, even baring his fangs at him. [He was then so embarrassed to know that both of you were just joking around and immediately left with a disgruntled expression. (you definitely saw a pout also!)]

One day, Arthur was feeling very playful and invited you out to hang out with him at the bar. He had a few games in mind and he had a lot to “teach you”. Even with his sneaky attitude, you tagged along with him and had quite an eventful night. Arthur played a few rounds of poker with some other patrons, with you at his side. He gave you tips on how to read people and pointers on how to find their weak points and tells.

When the clock struck 11, Arthur excused himself to the restroom, leaving you surrounded by the other patrons who took it as an opportunity to make a move on you.

And who just happened to enter the bar at the same exact moment? The younger Van Gogh. (Well played, Arthur).

Theo’s eyes almost flashed at the sight of those men, leering so disgustingly over you. In the blink of an eye, he was by your side and glaring daggers at them. “If you value your own life, I suggest you all stay put in your seats. You, come with me.” Unsure on whether he should take you by the hand or not, he stepped aside and gestured for you to join him with his hand.

One of the men did the grave mistake of trying to reach for you and you could almost swear you heard Theodorus threaten to cut both his hands off if he dared to touch you. 

Once you made it to the table, you saw how flustered the man was and the crease between his eyebrows was so deep. It wasn’t a look that suited him but it obviously amused you to see him in a state like this (in a situation that has nothing to do with his brother).

Theo: Why on earth are you here at this godforsaken hour? Toni: Theo… you need to relax.

Theo: Easy for you to say, Hond… Toni. Do you even realize what those men were planning to do to you? Toni: It doesn’t really matter what they were planning to do. I wasn’t going to let them do anything to me anyway. You know me. Plus, I’m not even here on my own. Arthur was with me. Theo: *his frown only got worse and he covered his face with his hands, rubbing hard* That son of a… Toni: *you leaned closer to him, rubbing your thumb between his brow* As much as I like seeing you like this, this expression doesn’t suit your smug (and stupidly) handsome face. Theo: *he scoffed and a crooked smile appear on his face* Handsome, huh? Toni: Oh, shut your mouth. It’s not like you weren’t really aware of that.

Theo: *exhales and shakes his head* Arthur got me good. 

Toni: Huh? Theo: He knows that I believe you’re a masterpiece… I can see it in your eyes. You’re so strong, so fierce… *he gently takes your hand and kisses the inside of your palm* Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious… *he keeps talking and it almost seems like he’s pouting, his cheeks tinted in the most adorable shade of pink* You’re a treasure that I’ve come across…You’ve become so precious to me and… I can’t let you go. *he pressed a soft kiss on your lips* I don’t want to.

You told him from the very start that you were asexual. Theodore was not shy to ask you any questions about what that meant and to learn more about you. If anything, It taught him to look at things in a different way, especially in how he expressed his love to you.

When you became lovers, you discovered that he has trouble sleeping and barely manages to get a few hours a day. He worries too much about his brother, about the future of his art and whether he’s actually capable of getting people to truly recognize his work. Apparently, he spends all night just reading books and occasionally drinking. But, not for long!

You would force the tall boy in bed and force him into a death-grip cuddle so that he can’t distract himself with anything else but focusing on laying by your side, your warmth and your voice. You would hammer the truth into him, lay it on thick and you knew for a fact that he would do the same for you. You would tell him all the things he needed to hear and know, tell him where he should try to grow and also know when and how to let go. No sugar-coating and no poetry or romancing involved in it. Both of you kept things real all the time which is something that you adored about one another.

If you touch the ridges of his ear, he’ll get awfully ticklish and call you a “monster’ and you couldn’t help but grin at that and say  “I’m your little monster”.

That was enough to make this grown-ass man all blushy and mumble something along the lines of “Don’t be so full of yourself”.

His weakness is whenever you actually make him feel like he belongs to you and you belong to him.  

As a token of his love for you, Theo came up with an interesting idea and wanted both of you to share something that reminded you of one another. He gifted you a pair of amethyst earrings (your horoscope gemstone) but there was a catch. One earring for you and the other for him. So you both went to get your ears pierced in the same place and wore it with pride.

He acknowledges the fact that you have your limits and boundaries and he fully respects them. Relationships are all about giving and taking.

He vowed to you that he would not take blood from another and only drink Blanc and Rouge. He cannot fathom the idea of drinking from another human but you. It went without saying that, only if you were willing and actually wanted to, he would gladly drink your blood. From which part of your body? He didn’t give a damn, even if it were from the tip of your finger, he would be satisfied to know the taste of the blood that courses through your vein, the taste of the life in you. As a vampire, he can’t help his instincts in wanting to consume the blood of his beloved.

He gets a bit flustered if he gets hard and usually just jerks himself to get it out of the way. He also enjoys it when you talk to him while he’s pleasuring himself, reminding him how much you love him (Nothing makes him happier than when he hears those words from you, even if they make him blush) and whenever you feel like giving him a hand, he’ll never actively ask for it though.

Theo did the stupid mistake of teasingly asking you for a kiss and smirking at you. He’d expect you to get on the tip of your toes and try to reach for his lips. What he didn’t expect was for you to punch him in the gut and grab his face and kiss him while he was hunched over. Smug bastard got what he deserved but he was pained and happy nonetheless.

Arthur can’t help but chuckle whenever he sees how Theodorus looks at you or acts around you. He’d tease him and say that you’ve tamed the wolf and turned him into a mutt.

And you’d simply reply back by saying “Maybe it was just meant to be” and didn’t that just draw a shit-eating grin on your boyfriend’s face (he stopped calling you Hondje a long time ago).

Places he kisses to show you affection: your wrists and temples.

Bonus:

Dazai would always use the following nicknames “curious little thing” and “curious little creature” just to tease you.

But your boyfriend was having none of that. Theo was not taking any of that and the writer’s intentions were more than clear to him. He’d sneer at him with “This little creature is mine. Make sure to remember that.”

It’s as if Theodorus knew, that if he didn’t approach you in time… Dazai would be the one to snatch you since he’s your runner-up suitor. ;)

[kkintle]

Fairy Tales by Hans Christian Andersen; Quotes

The heart is on the left side also in emperors.

And as he sat, it occurred to him that maybe the fairy tale had gone into hiding, like the princesses in the old folk tales, and now had to be sought out. If she were found, she would shine with a new splendor, more beautiful than ever before. “Who knows? Maybe she lies hidden (…)

Tragedy was bottled in champagne bottles that start out with a bang, as tragedy should

“He’s sure like a human being, that pixie!” said the old cat. “Just one sweet miaow from the mistress, a miaow about himself, and he immediately changes his mind. She is clever, Madame.” But she wasn’t clever. It was the pixie who was human. If you can’t understand this story, ask about it, but don’t ask the pixie or the Madame.

An actor once told me that when he played a lover he thought about just one person in the audience. He played to her and forgot the rest of the spectators.

“I could have said that better,” thought the critic, but he didn’t say it out loud, and that was already really something.

You can’t learn imagination.” “But what shall I do to make my living by writing?” “Oh, you can manage that by Shrove Tuesday! Become a critic! Knock down the poets. Knock down their writings—that’s just like knocking them. Just don’t be over-awed. Hit at them without ceremony. You’ll get enough dough to support both yourself and a wife!” “You’ve hit upon the very thing!” said the young man, and he knocked down all the poets because he couldn’t become one himself.

When the clock struck five the five senses were there. Sight came as a maker of eye glasses. Hearing was a coppersmith. Smell was selling violets and woodruff. Taste was a cook, and Feeling was a funeral director with mourning crepe hanging down to his heels.

People who are dead can’t walk again, we know that very well, but works of art can haunt. The body was broken, but not the spirit. The spirit of art was spooking, and that was no spoofing matter.

I have something of the poet in me, but not enough. Often when I’m walking the city streets, it seems to me like I’m in a big library. The houses are bookcases and each story a shelf with books. There stands an everyday story. There a good old fashioned comedy. There are scientific works about all kinds of subjects. Here smut and good literature. I can fantasize and philosophize about all that literature.

There’s something of the poet in me, but not enough. Many people have just as much of it as I have and yet don’t carry a sign or a collar with poet written on it. They and I have been given a gift from God, a blessing big enough for oneself, but much too small to be parceled out to others. It comes like a sunbeam and fills your soul and mind. It comes like a waft of flowers, like a melody you know but can’t remember from where.

“People are like milk that curdles. Some become fine cottage cheese and others thin, watered whey. Some people are lucky in everything, always given the place of honor, and never knowing sorrow or want.”

Everyone has his burdens to bear. We’re not alone in it, and there’s a comfort in that.

There was an open casket standing in the middle of the church floor with a dead man in it, soon to be buried. Since he had a clear conscience, Johannes wasn’t afraid at all, and he knew that the dead hurt no one; it’s evil living people who cause harm.

She looked at all the innumerable little stones on the shore; the water had polished them smooth. Glass, iron, stone—everything that was washed up on the beach had been shaped by water, water that was softer still than her white hand. “They roll tirelessly, and so they smooth out the roughness; I’ll be just as tireless! Thank you for your wisdom, you clear rolling waves.

It’s true that the sea is softer than your fine hands and can shape the hard stones, but it doesn’t feel the pain your fingers will feel. It has no heart and doesn’t suffer the dread and terror you must tolerate.

“You can make one up,” said the little boy. “Mother says that everything you look at can become a fairy tale, and that you can get a story from everything you touch.” “But those fairy tales and stories are no good! No, the real ones come by themselves. They knock at my forehead and say, ‘Here I am!’”

Then they did the hardest dance, the one that’s called “stepping out of the dance.”

Here’s my card. I live on the sunny side of the street, and I’m always home when it rains.” And then the shadow went away.

But we can take comfort that the soul is most clever when it’s on its own. The body only dumbs it down.

The air and light were the flower’s lovers, but light was the favorite. It turned to the light, and if that disappeared, it rolled its petals together and slept in the embrace of the air. “It’s light that adorns me,” said the flower. “But the air lets you breathe,” whispered the poet’s voice.

As is the case with anything done thoroughly, the galoshes could only do one thing at a time.

Our greatest sufferings here we don’t impart, You who were alone at last, and often; Know that in life much presses harder on the heart Than all the soil that’s cast upon your coffin.

The little pixie grabbed the wonderful book from the table, put it inside his red cap, and held on to it with both hands. The greatest treasure in the house was saved! Then he ran off, way out onto the roof and up on the chimney, where he sat illuminated by the burning house across the street, and with both hands he held onto his red cap that held the treasure. Now he knew his own heart and knew to whom he really belonged. But when the fire had been extinguished, and he thought about it; well—“I’ll divide myself between them,” he said. “I can’t completely give up the grocer, because of the porridge.” And that was quite human of him! The rest of us go to the grocer too, for the sake of the porridge.

“Come out on the roof, little Rudy,” was one of the first things the cat said, and Rudy understood. “All that about falling is just imagination. You won’t fall if you aren’t afraid of falling. Come on, set one paw like this, and the other like this! Feel your way with your front paws. Use your eyes, and be flexible in your limbs. If there’s a gap, then jump and hold on. That’s what I do.”

When you’re a child and can’t talk yet, you can understand hens and ducks, cats and dogs very well indeed. They are just as easy to understand as father and mother when you are really small. Even grandfather’s cane can whinny and become a horse with a head, legs, and tail. Some children lose this understanding later than others, and people say that those children are slow in developing and are children for an exceedingly long time. People say so many funny things!

(…) but that doesn’t matter because I have gotten this much out of it: things are not distributed quite the way they should be, either for dogs or for people in this world. Not everyone is created to sit on laps or drink milk.

Never think that you will fall, and you’ll manage!”

You have to climb, and you won’t fall down if you believe you won’t.

When you meet someone from your home when you are far away, then you speak to each other like you know each other.

Luck was with him, as it always is for those who believe in themselves and remember that “God gives us the nuts, but he doesn’t crack them open for us.”

Water is so soft and yet so strong. It has a back to bear weight, and a mouth with which to swallow. Gently smiling, softness itself and yet a terror, with shattering strength.

“The world has no more joy to give me.” Words uttered in an abundance of happiness, repeated in a torrent of grief.

“Little Kai is with the Snow Queen and finds everything to his liking. He thinks it’s the best place in the world, but that’s because he has gotten a splinter in his heart and a little chip of glass in his eye. They have to come out first, or he’ll never become human again, and the Snow Queen will keep her power over him.”

He was carrying around some sharp, flat pieces of ice which he positioned in all sorts of ways, trying to make something out of it. It’s like when the rest of us use little wooden pieces and make figures from them. It’s called a tangram. Kai was also making figures and very complicated ones. It was the game of Icy Reason. To his eyes the figures were quite excellent and of the very highest importance. That was because of the bit of glass in his eye!

Then Kai burst into tears. He cried so that the splinter of glass washed out of his eye. He recognized her and cried joy fully, “Gerda! sweet little Gerda! Where have you been so long? And where have I been?” He looked around. “How cold it is here! How big and empty it is!” and he held Gerda tight.

A tail wind for one is head wind for another.

“Cattle die, kinsmen die, one day you die yourself; I know one thing that never dies— the dead man’s reputation.”

In those days the saying was: “The herds know when it’s time to go home and give up grazing, but a foolish man will always forget the size of his stomach.”

They knew that, all right, but do as I say, not as I do! They also knew that “love turns to loathing if you sit too long on someone else’s bench,” but still they stayed. Meat and mead are good things!

“I don’t quite understand it,” said stork mother, “but that’s not my fault. It’s the idea’s fault. But it doesn’t make any difference because I have other things to think about.”

Then they repeated this and wrote it up as a prescription : “Love brings forth life,” but how the whole thing was going to be worked out, they didn’t know.

They say that raindrops hollow out the hard rock. Over time the waves of the sea polish the angular stones until they’re round. The dew of grace that fell over little Helga hollowed out the hardness and rounded the sharpness. But she didn’t recognize that, didn’t know it herself. Does the seed in the earth, when it’s dampened by life-giving moisture and the warm rays of the sun, know that it hides growth and a flower within itself?

“Everyone flies in his own way,” said stork father. “The swans diagonally, the cranes triangularly and the plovers in curves like a snake.”

Better to have something in your tummy when you’re alive than be made a fuss of when you’re dead!

People don’t always go straight to hell, but they can get there the long way around, if they have talent.

Tears of sorrow that a mother cries for her child always reach the child, but they don’t set it free—they only burn and make the torment greater.

“The Portuguese is a gifted speaker,” they said. “We don’t use such great big words, though our sympathy for you is as great. But if we don’t do anything for you, we’ll be quiet about it. We find that the noblest.”

It’s so cold here that the clouds freeze to pieces and fall down in little white patches.” It was snow she meant, but she couldn’t explain it any better.

Oh, to grow, to grow, to become big and old! That’s the only beauty in this world, thought the tree.

“Enjoy your youth!” said the sunbeams. “Enjoy your fresh growth, and the young life that’s in you!” And the wind kissed the tree, and the dew cried tears over it, but the spruce tree didn’t understand.

“Take pleasure in us,” said the air and the sunshine. “Be happy in your fresh youth out in the open air!” But the tree wasn’t happy at all. It grew and grew. Both winter and summer it was green. Dark green it stood there, and people who saw it said, “that’s a lovely tree,” and at Christmas it was cut first. The ax cut deeply through the pith, and the tree fell with a sigh to the earth. It felt a pain and a powerless-ness, and couldn’t think of any joy. It felt saddened to be parted from its home, from the spot where it had grown up. It knew, of course, that it would never again see its dear companions, the small bushes and flowers all around, maybe not even the birds. The departure was not at all pleasant.

“How lovely the world is!” said the caterpillar. “The sun is so warm! Everything is so pleasant. And when I shall one day fall asleep and die, as it’s called, I’ll wake up and be a butterfly!”

“I’ve let myself be taken by surprise,” he said, “so I’d better surprise them too.” And he did. He was gone. Gone all day, gone all night (…)

“The world isn’t so bad after all,” said the dung beetle. “You just have to know how to take it.”

Here he could live, but “living is not enough,” he said. “You must have sunshine, freedom, and a little flower!”

The flower understood it in his fashion, as we understand things in ours.

“How terribly alone he must have been,” she said. “Terribly alone,” said the tin soldier, “but it’s lovely not being forgotten!”

No, rather with friendly handshakes, and they get bread and pastries from each other because foreign food tastes best.

Harsh words bear harsh fruit. How would this end?

“The less you know, the less you’re burdened,” said Mother Søren.

Embedded in Andersen’s story is a notion that good tales can expose even the storyteller.

[brightbeautifulthings]

THE MALL BY MEGAN MCCAFFERTY BLOG TOUR & BOOK REVIEW

"Totally rad! This former 1990s mall teen loved The Mall, an ode to tall bangs, boys with good taste in music, and female friendship, set in the only place that mattered. What a joy to have a new book from Megan McCafferty, who knows exactly how to make us laugh, cry, and fall in love with her characters." -- Amy Spalding, author of The Summer of Jordi Perez and The New Guy

New York Times bestselling author Megan McCafferty returns to her roots with this YA coming of age story set in a New Jersey mall. The year is 1991. Scrunchies, mixtapes and 90210 are, like, totally fresh. Cassie Worthy is psyched to spend the summer after graduation working at the Parkway Center Mall. In six weeks, she and her boyfriend head off to college in NYC to fulfill The Plan: higher education and happily ever after. But you know what they say about the best laid plans... Set entirely in a classic “monument to consumerism,” the novel follows Cassie as she finds friendship, love, and ultimately herself, in the most unexpected of places. Megan McCafferty, beloved New York Times bestselling author of the Jessica Darling series, takes readers on an epic trip back in time to The Mall.

About the Author:

Megan McCafferty writes fiction for tweens, teens and teens-at-heart of all ages. The author of several novels, she’s best known for Sloppy Firsts and several more books in the New York Times bestselling Jessica Darling series. Described in her first review as “Judy Blume meets Dorothy Parker” (Wall Street Journal), she’s been trying to live up to that high standard ever since.

Review:

"Troy's dislikes were about so much more than ridding controversial items from my wardrobe. They were about removing controversial ideas from my brain."

Year Read: 2020

Rating: 4/5

Thoughts: I'm honored to be asked to read this book, since I'm not sure it's one I would have requested on my own. Its title doesn't do it justice. The Mall makes it sound like it's a story about vapid, Clueless-era mallrats--no hate, I adore Clueless and I'm fond of malls, but this story is far more charming than the title lets on. First of all, it's a love letter to the 90s. If the mall of the 90s was your natural habitat as a teenager, then you're sure to enjoy all the nostalgic references to stores that are no longer around, like Kay-Bee Toys, Orange Julius, and Sam Goody. It really took me back to days of hanging at the mall with my friends, stocking up on 10 for $10 jewelry at Claire's, and searching for clearance band/horror movie t-shirts at Sam Goody, Suncoast, and Media Play before there ever was such a thing as a Hot Topic at my mall. I love that McCafferty set her story in this time period, and it's sure to resonate with readers slightly older than the average YA audience.

It's also fun for anyone who's ever worked in a mall, since they develop their own weird inner cultures. Cassie has Kool-Aid and Everclear and a Cabbage Patch Kids treasure hunt; I had urban legends about cursed objects and The Buckle challenge, wherein employees of other stores try to make it to the back wall of The Buckle without being pounced on by another retailer. The treasure hunting plot is fun, not unlike the teenagers trying to crack Russian codes in Stranger Things (without the guns and monsters). It gets enough attention to keep the plot moving, but as in life, it's not always the obvious things that end up having the most impact. The treasure hunt turns out to be secondary to the real plot development of the novel, which is Cassie's self-discovery and her friendship with Drea. It's a funny, moving coming-of-age story that handles its issues with humor and just the right amount of heart.

I like Cassie; she's my people. She's a straight-A student and an over-achiever, and her brand of know-it-all humor is just my style. McCafferty manages to capture that purely teenage arrogance that comes from being one of the smart kids without making Cassie wholly unlikable. She obviously thinks she's too good to work in a clothing store, and the mall is just a holdover until her real life starts in New York. Yet the book pushes her (not always gently) toward a more adult perspective that there are all kinds of worthwhile jobs in the world and that being a snob to people who earn their living in a mall isn't acceptable. I enjoyed her conquering her fears of her ex-boyfriend and discovering new sides of her personality, her cute new summer romance with "Sam Goody", and most of all her friendship with Drea. They're opposite poles, with Drea being the popular, sophisticated friend with panache, and I like how the book allows them both to be vulnerable in different ways. Cassie is far from a perfect person, and she doesn't give Drea's dreams the respect they deserve but, as with the best characters, she tries hard to learn from her mistakes. I thoroughly enjoyed it.

I received a free e-ARC through NetGalley from the publishers at St. Martin's Press and an invitation to join the blog tour. Trigger warnings: sexual harassment, slut-shaming (mostly countered on-page, or at least hilariously avenged), divorce, cheating.

Twitter | Get Your Copy

[quirkfics]

greeting shadows

commission for the darling @ghost-flakes

word count: 5k

warnings: smut, oral, touch-starved, All the Feels

pairing: Kurogiri x Reader (gender neutral) [[reader has a quirk: spectre! 

The public eye never need see Kurogiri. With coordinates or clear sight, he can move himself from place to place faster than a breeze, with no one the wiser. It’s safer that way, to keep his quirk hidden from public knowledge, and Kurogiri takes little issue with it.

But even he craves being able to lose himself in a crowd, to walk amongst the tide of people and exist near others. It’s an itch, a need, that irritates him sometimes, especially as the safest way to go about it calls for rain. 

Between an umbrella and a hooded coat, it’s almost too easy to remain in anonymity. Everyone is too eager to get out of the wet to look closely at passers-by - and Kurogiri gets the chance to be near others. To satisfy what he knows is a kind of skin craving, even if he’d rather dissipate than admit it.

“You look like you’re enjoying the rain almost as much as I am,” breaks through his thoughts. At first he assumes he isn’t the one being spoken to, but he glances anyway, expecting to see someone looking past him - and finds your eyes on his. 

For a moment, but only a moment, he considers not answering. 

“Is my glee that apparent?” He asks, and notes the way your lips part, your eyes growing large as he speaks. He assumes his appearance and demeanor will soon have you turning on your heel.

Kurogiri is incorrect.

“As is your sarcasm,” you reply with a laugh, gently touching your elbow to his forearm. His heart nearly jolts from his chest at the touch, but… Something about you is utterly charming.

He walks away from a short, but thoroughly enjoyable conversation, believing he will likely never see you again. He does his best not to visit the same place twice, and has always kept to overly crowded areas-

But it turns out that Kurogiri is wrong, twice. It's pure chance that he runs into you a second time, in a completely different city, but you capture his complete attention as surely as you did the first. You’re able to slip him your phone number without him knowing, and that is reason enough for Kurogiri to call you.  

From the moment the words first passed your lips, Kurogiri found you fascinating.

It’s not the attraction to you that’s a surprise for Kurogiri though, not exactly. Day in and day out, people of all kinds are admired. For their looks, or their voice, or the way they handle a situation. Even Kurogiri has fallen prey to it on occasion - though he can say with certainty that he’s a bit more selective than most. And yet, despite his general lack of time, and his need for obscurity? The yearning for companionship still exists within him. It has always been there, simmering below the surface. Barely enough of a thought to keep shape, lingering in the back of his mind.

No, it’s not the attraction to you that’s a surprise. He finds, and has always found you lovely. The quiet determination in you, the passion in your voice- the way you made a point to greet a nameless stranger. It wasn’t who he was attracted to that made him feel as if he’d misstepped. It was how much. 

Even now, Kurogiri feels like a child when he speaks to you, frozen with stage fright when faced with a crowd. Never mind that the audience is a kind and receptive one, he feels stilted and awkward. Idle chit-chat is absolutely abhorrent, as he wants you to think well of him, like him, to want-

He still isn’t sure how exactly this became his reality. Wanting you to want him. 

Perhaps, it’s simply that he’s never let himself have that much before. The skin hunger, the desire to touch is almost overwhelming, and the first time your hand slips into his, Kurogiri forgets every single thought he might be harboring. Mist is not the most solid of forms, and while he is solid enough to have a body- 

“It almost tickles,” you confess, smiling down at his fingers twined with yours. “Cool, but not damp?” You say aloud, mulling over the words as dark specks of mist dot your skin and vanish. 

“I’m not a swamp cooler,” he says, and relishes the embarrassed smile that brings to your face. Never has he been more thankful, and yet fearful at the same time. He wishes you could read the joy on his face, as easily as he does yours - but sharing even that much of himself makes Kurogiri’s chest tight with worry.

“Obviously not,” you say, trying to keep the expression on your face under control. “Swamp coolers are hardly this attractive. And they definitely don’t sound like you.”

The things you say. Kurogiri can’t remember the last time he was around such genuine levity. The last time he felt so utterly unburdened. He leaves your side only reluctantly, and every time he does, the mere memory of you keeps him warm. 

Every meeting, every conversation with you seems like a revelation. Slowly, you’ve become a lantern he finds himself seeking in the dark, a promise of pieces he thought lost, finally returned. He can’t stop whiling away all his free hours at your side, can’t stop thinking about the next time he’ll have the chance to see you, to hear your voice.

More often than not, the two of you take rambling walks through the city in the evening. Sometimes he finds himself distracted, wondering what you would think if he could tell you of his quirk, if he could whisk you away to far off vistas at your slightest whim. You rarely push for answers from him though, far too content to build this strange relationship block, by slow, steady block.

“No,” you insist.

“Why would I lie about that?” Kurogiri asks, eyes focused on a distant street corner. It looks like a cafe, and his brain is two steps ahead, wondering if he should phrase his question in some sort of official sounding way.    

“You mean to tell me, you’ve never once had someone eager to catch your attention somehow?”

Kurogiri halts, and has to glance back over his shoulder to find that you’ve stopped - and you aren’t attempting to catch up with him. “Surely that isn’t surprising?” Kurogiri asks, turning back to face you. “There are few who see shadows in the dark and rush to greet them.”

You scoff, jamming your hands into your pockets and narrowing your eyes, content to watch him from a far vantage - at least for a moment. “You sound like you’re quoting a poem,” you accuse, and then shake your head, walking back to his side. “Seriously, though? The figure you cut in that waistcoat, and not one-”

“I suppose there has been one,” Kurogiri amends, and watches you absolutely light up with curiosity. You miss his entire point though.

“Yeah? Tell me about them! I bet they were some kind of fancy globe-trotter. Did they have their own je-”

Kurogiri sighs. “Why must I be attracted to such ignorance?” He mutters, too quiet for you to make out the words.

“Wait- what was-” 

“I mean you,” he clarifies. Kurogiri’s mouth goes dry when he takes your hand again, amazed that his heartbeat isn’t echoing down the street. “You rushed to greet a shadow,” he says, and reels you into the circle of his arms. “And you wax poetic about my.. figure.” You laugh, and hug him, but all too soon you take a step back. Kurogiri has to keep himself from clutching at you when you make to walk again, but he doesn’t want to rush you if you’re not ready. If you’re not willing. It doesn’t stop the desperate yearning to hold you though, or the way it’s been building inside him like a dam near to bursting. He leaves you only reluctantly that night, and nearly throws all his caution to the wind when you straighten his tie- but your reasoning for ending the walk is all sound, and he too, has work to finish.   

A large part of him knows that all of this is ill advised. He has goals to accomplish, not only for his own sake, but for society and yet it doesn’t stop. He can’t seem to walk away. Can’t seem to want to, not really. Days, and months pass, and each touch of your warm hand in his misty one only seems to reinforce his desire for you. To have you in his life, if not in his bed.

He’s started to dream of your face, gentle with sleep on the pillow next to his, and wonders at the fact that his errant thoughts of you haven’t become a horrible preoccupation. Kurogiri hasn’t neglected any of his duties though, and as his face gives nothing away- Mayhap to assuage his worries, he treats his time with you as an incentive to work all the harder. He wants to hoard each second like a dragon, claws clutching at gold, but it always seems to fly by. 

“Sometimes,” you confess one evening, leaning on the stone windowsill of a storefront, “I used to wonder if I saw you purely because of my quirk. Never mind that I’ve never seen other- I thought you were a ghost,” you say with a laugh. “No one else ever went out of their way to acknowledge you-”

And it’s a barb in his chest, knowing why. He is nothing more than a ghost, walking streets where no one knows his face, much less his name. Kurogiri is nothing more than a shadow, with just enough mass to keep people from treading on his toes. It’s the best way, the only way, to continue to accomplish his goals, and yet… He wants people to see you together, to know that he exists, if only as your shadow.

“You did,” Kurogiri says, and feels his heart wrench when you smile. “You’ve always seen me, and I don’t believe you’ve any idea of how much that means.”

You laugh, and then hide it behind a sip of your warm drink, and Kurogiri is almost sure that you’re ready to pull away again, to sidestep the topic of feelings. He won’t force it, but he can’t seem to keep his silence, not for much longer. You’ve no idea about the things he does when he isn’t with you, and he desperately wants to keep it that way.. And yet he still wants to share it all too. 

He’s been visiting here enough that he’s sure his presence has been noticed by someone. And it’s only a matter of time, really, before word spreads. Before they say something to you. Part of him hopes they’ll ignore him, realize who he is and who he works for and leave everything be- and yet he also finds himself wondering whether you already know because surely... Surely, someone would have told you. Someone would have said something already. A good Samaritan, concerned for your safety. Perhaps you ignored them, or perhaps they decided they were too scared to speak the words- Either way, Kurogiri isn’t sure he wants to know. He lets the topic die in his mind, lets his feelings take the forefront, all too eager to be shared.

“Everyone wants to be seen, Kurogiri. I- I might understand that a little more than most, is all,” you say, raising your hand. If he hadn’t been watching for it, Kurogiri might not have noticed the flicker of your skin. The way you turned diaphanous, absolutely see-through, for the space of a second. “Like a spectre,” you explain, shaking your hand as if the feeling it left behind was a bothersome one. “People weren’t stumbling into you, but it was almost like they couldn’t. Like you were intangible, or creating some kind of barrier-” You laugh. “I had to know.”

“Tangible to others or not,” Kurogiri murmurs, stepping into your space. Everything within him thrills when your legs spread, allowing him such closeness. “Your touch has always held weight to me.” His fingers close around your wrist, and it’s ridiculously difficult for him not to lean down and try for a kiss. You appear to be receptive to it, the way you look at him, lips parted, leaning into his hold on you- But this is hardly the place, even if the time feels right. 

“Romantic, aren’t you?” You rasp, and make to set your cup down on the sill beside you. For a moment, Kurogiri thinks he might be willing to use his quirk, just this once- but his phone buzzes in his slacks, and the only people who have his number are not particularly patient individuals. You blink, eyelashes fluttering against you cheek when you hear the soft buzz of his phone. “Important call?” You ask, and the moment flits away on the breeze. 

“Unfortunately,” he says, and barely feels guilty for the thought. He leaves you with a barely-there caress against your cheekbone, and a promise to call you again when he’s free, almost trembling with need as he walks around the corner and warps away. 

Though Kurogiri usually displays endless bounds of patience, it’s all slowly falling to the wayside. Each delay leaves him longing for you so badly that his lungs feel bound with iron, and your wistful voice in his ear - when he can spare the time for a personal phone call - does nothing to stem the tide of wanting.

He worries he’ll make a fool of himself when the time finally arrives to see you again. He smooths his hands over his clothes so often, he frets about wrinkling them, and warps to the corner near your home almost ten minutes early, though there is no feasible or potential way he would ever allow himself to be late. His worry is atrociously loud in his head, white noise and anxiety, echoing around in his skull, all the way up until you open up the door. 

“Are you early, or am I running late?” You ask, laughing awkwardly as you stand back to let him in. You nearly tremble when he walks by, and Kurogiri has to clench his hands to keep from reaching out to you immediately. “Honestly, I’m a little-”

“I’m afraid my own nervousness got the best of me,” he confesses, and clenches his hands tighter when he thinks about smoothing any wrinkles in his waistcoat. “I am a bit early,” he clarifies, when your eyebrows raise in surprise.

“To think, today is the day I finally see you nervous,” you tease, and the words seem to push back the tension in the air, giving the both of you enough space to breathe. A startled look suddenly passes over your face. “We talked about you stopping here first, but- but we never mentioned after-” You say, and this time Kurogiri doesn’t stop himself. He snags your tense hands in his, reveling in the warmth of you and the way you immediately relax in his hold, and takes a step closer. 

“I care little for anything but time with you. If that means a walking tour of the city? So be it. If you’d like dinner, or-” A very small thought in the back of his head says that he should surprise you with food from the other side of the planet. A wiser part of him knows that this is not the moment to display his quirk and it’s… illegal uses, no matter how enticing the idea is.

You free one of your hands to wave it in a placating gesture, but… you're not stepping away. "Those all sound great, but I'm not going to lie," you say, voice a little strained, "it would be nice, maybe, if we could stay? Here, I mean.” You bite your bottom lip when Kurogiri takes your hand back in his, wishing you could see the smile he feels, just standing here with you. 

“Of course,” he says, and his hand slides up your forearm- only for you to turn, tugging him towards the kitchen. 

“I did pick up that wine you mentioned though. I have a friend- anyway, I owe a favor, but-” You pull away, taking the bottle off the counter and nearly brandishing it at him. Kurogiri takes it, if only to keep it from falling out of your anxious hands. 

He suspects you’re ready to go on a tirade of some sort, with nerves so apparent, but he stops you with a sigh and your whispered name, setting the bottle carefully back on the counter. 

“I know we haven’t exactly- we haven’t put any kind of label on things, but. There is something here, right? Between us? I never want you to feel rushed or anything, but sometimes I think-” You make a small noise of surprise when Kurogiri finally slips his arms around you, clinging to you, breathing in the scent of you. He has so much he wants to say, so much he needs to, if he wants to keep this, keep you in his life, but for now-

Kurogiri leans back until he can look you in the eye, unsure of what exactly, he intends on saying, but knowing he needs to say it. “I find it difficult to think of anything but you,” he says. The words slip free of him, but as soon as he sees the look on your face, he wouldn’t dream of taking them back. They taste of truth, anyhow, and it’s important that he tells you what truths he can. Any truths he can. “So yes. I believe there is something between us, and I would very much like to follow where this leads, if you’re willing to have me.” He isn’t sure whether it’s the phrasing, or simply the moment, but you choke on a laugh and curl your arms around him again, burying your face against him. 

“That’s good,” you say, voice slightly muffled with the way you’re pressed to him. “Did you.. Did you want some of that wine?”

Kurogiri hesitantly strokes a hand over your neck, zeroing in on the way your skin shivers with gooseflesh. He wonders if the mist of his body will be unpleasant to you, too cool for more intimate settings- but you haven’t complained about it yet. “Later, perhaps. I would rather be clear-minded, this evening.” He repeats the action, cool fingers against the top of your spine and shivers himself when you clutch him closer. “I already feel out of step around you in the first place. Alcohol won’t help matters.” 

“Me?” You ask with another laugh, lifting your head away to look him in the eye. “Mr.You greeted the shadows feels awkward around me?”

“Indeed. I could say something trite and cliche about stepping into the light, but I fear you don’t appreciate my poetry.” 

You gasp, and smack a gentle hand against his shoulder blade, but it’s true. Kurogiri had never once gone seeking out someone of your caliber. If he admired anyone, that was where it began and promptly ended. He had little time to devote to another, little time period, but he had… He had taken the time to get to know you. In small, stolen moments where your hand slipped into his, and you smiled up at him like he meant something to you. In the ambling strolls through rainy city streets, where he felt his heart, more solid and heavy in his chest than ever before, insist that he do something, if only to keep feeling the warmth of you, to keep hearing your voice, to keep- To keep you in his life. 

“Lies and slander!” You insist, laughing again, tension fading from your frame, and his heart thuds unevenly. The way you smile, the gentleness of your hands upon him… “I do appreciate your poetry. Tell me then. Am I.. sunlight or- or a moonbeam?” You ask, smile turning wry when his eyes narrow in response.

“I would think starlight a finer partner for shadows,” Kurogiri says, tone nearly reverent, and bends closer when your eyelashes flutter. He wants to kiss you, if you’re willing, wants to wrap you in the mist of his body and feel warmth that goes more than skin deep.

“I suppose shadows can reach far off stars,” you say, voice growing soft. The traces of embarrassment have vanished, leaving behind nothing but tenderness. If it had been anyone else, if it has been only a month sooner, Kurogiri isn’t sure he could have faced the immense amount of emotion in either of you and stayed.

“Reach and catch them fast,” Kurogiri murmurs, voice almost as soft as yours. “Perhaps I might have a kiss?” He asks, close enough to breathe in the taste of you.

You don’t answer with words, though a moment of panic crosses the iris of your eyes. You lean forward to kiss him, eyelids falling closed, trusting him to adjust as necessary. Some inexplicable part of him wants to laugh, but he wants your lips against his far more than that. Kurogiri leans into the kiss, eager for the taste of you, the steady spread of body heat, and presses a glancing kiss against your mouth.  

It isn’t like the reel of images he’d stored in the back of his head, the silly hopes and wonders - it’s better. Having you here, listening to you breathe out another laugh before you chase his lips for more? It’s more vivid and thrilling than anything he can summon to mind. 

His fears about being too cool to the touch seem to be completely unfounded. You don’t shy from the icy mist of his face, of his hands. You press close to his every caress, and your lips part willingly, tongue hot against his own.

“That was a kiss,” you gasp, pulling away and cradling your suddenly warm face. “I think you’ve been holding out on me, Kurogiri,” you tease. You nerves still betray you though. He spies your pulse thundering in your neck, and wants nothing more than to feel the steady thud of it against his tongue. 

“You’ve but to ask,” he replies, and drags a knuckle over the jumping vein in your throat.

“Seriously? How do you do that? You say barely half a sentence and I feel like I should be melting into a puddle on the ground.” You take a step back, and never has Kurogiri felt the acute loss of warmth as he does now.

“You like the sound of my voice?” He asks, and his eyes narrow again as you reach out to tap the edge of a fingernail against a button on his waistcoat. 

“You can’t say that you hadn’t realized. You nearly send me into shivers every time you speak. Did you think I was just a very cold individual?”

Kurogiri scoffs, and closes the distance once more, hoping you won’t turn tail and run, or change the subject. “The thought has crossed my mind. More than once, even. Though I thought I might be projecting.” 

“Project all you want,” you mutter, glancing down at the floor. “Especially seeing as it’s true. You, uh-” Your hand moves from the button up to his tie, fumbling with it until it’s loose and you can tug him close again. “More kisses, please?”

“Only kisses?” Kurogiri asks, resisting the next gentle tug of his tie. He can’t deny he wants to throw all caution to the wind, but it’s been so long- he’d rather make sure you were entirely sure of it all. Entirely sure of him. The last thing he wants to do is break what little he has with you, especially if you’re not ready. 

“Maybe more, if-” You blow out a breath, pausing. “If you’re interested in that too?” You finally ask, your gaze tracing the lightning of his eyes. “Because I am. Interested.”      

That's all Kurogiri needed to hear. He let's your next gentle tug of his tie bring him back into the orbit of a kiss. As soon as his mouth finds yours again, dark mist dotting your face, you make a soft, small sigh that has Kurogiri's body lighting up with want. Your hands are gentle, stroking over the line of his shoulders, and Kurogiri wants nothing more than to watch your nimble fingers unbutton his waistcoat and his shirt, watch you arch into his touch- He bumps back into the fridge, and then he realizes you're both simply fumbling about in the kitchen, too enamored with each other to even think of moving.

“Oh,” you say, pulling away to catch your breath, eyes darting around the room. “I haven’t even let you get in the door and I’m already-”  

“I’m not complaining,” Kurogiri murmurs. “But perhaps we should find somewhere to sit?”

Neither of you end up sitting. You keep interrupting the conversation for stolen kisses, and swift caresses, stumbling against the wall before he draws you back into the circle of his arms. He can’t seem to stop touching, eager to see your eyelashes fanning against your cheek, and the way you inhale, as if you can taste him on the air. You make it all the way to the bedroom before you lose track of time, of yourselves, shedding clothes and inhibitions smoother than the wine you left closed on the counter.

Kurogiri is careful as he lays you down on the bed, strong, cool fingers trailing down your bare thighs, heart caught fast in his throat as he parts them. He wants to kiss your knees, and draw idle patterns over your hips, he wants-  

“Can I taste you?” He asks, voice rough with longing, and doesn’t miss the tell-tale shiver of appreciation that his question brings. You nod your head, slow and measure, and Kurogiri’s grip on your thighs adjusts, tightens as he leans down between your legs. His tongue is warmer than the mist of his body, but still markedly colder than most, and that first touch has you arching, fingers curling into the sheets. 

“Kurogiri,” you breathe, and you tremble as he works you over with gentle touches, and strokes and sucking- And then slows, those lightning eyes focused on yours as he halts, all too soon. 

“I find myself a little impatient,” he rumbles, sitting up and taking your thighs in hand. He pulls you down the bed, mussing the blankets, and hooks your legs around his hips.

“Not complaining,” you reply, breathing in deeply as he leans over you. The sight of it, the lithe angles of his shoulders, and the way his hand strokes up your chest- “Not at all.” 

“Good,” he says, and laughs when your hips rock. “Is there something you’d like to ask?”

Your open your mouth to speak, hesitant, but his thumb stroking over your hip spurs you on. “Keep talking? The way you speak..” Your eyes close when he shifts, the hard length of him brushing against your thighs.

“How could I refuse?” 

He doesn’t move, doesn’t leave your side, but the slightest shift of the sheets has you opening your eyes to him flicking open the top of a small, expensive looking bottle of lube. You wonder- but decide it’s a question for later. You want him too much. 

“Everything about you,” Kurogiri murmurs, slicking you up expertly with careful fingers, “is exquisite.” The lube is warm, and you can’t help the jolt of your thighs at the temperature change. “I worried you’d find me too… Cold,” he says, and for some reason, you’re unsure as to whether he means his body, or his demeanor. His fingers curl, and you gasp. “I worried you’d decide against this. Against me, and yet you’ve surprised me at every turn.” His fingers pull out of you, but before you can even mourn the loss, the head of his cock is pressed against you. 

You can’t quite find the words, can only clutch at his forearm, and hook your ankles behind him, urging him to press closer. “Please,” you finally get out, gratefully accepting a kiss before he thrusts shallowly into you. At first, he’s as cool as the rest of his body, but every slow roll of his hips, every stroke of your hands over his shoulders has him warming.

You want him to speak, he knows, but Kurogiri can barely summon the breath to keep moving. The heat of you and your eager touch fumbling over his shoulders- He groans, and picks up the pace when you ask for him to speak more, to whisper what he wants in your ear-

“You,” he chokes out, voice rough. “I want you, like this. I want you to say my name, to keep looking at me-” Kurogiri loses track of everything but you. He can’t recall the exact layout of the room or the brand of wine on the counter, all he knows is how good you feel around him, how much like.. How much like a home you are, warm and inviting, and pleased to have his company.

You press an open mouthed kiss to his shoulder and gasp when he bottoms out, fingernails digging into his back, teeth catching his skin. Kurogiri curses. That hint of sharpness has him speeding, gasping, thrusting harder when you cling to him- and then you’re coming, and Kurogiri’s thighs are burning with the tension. He fucks you through his orgasm, legs trembling, but it isn’t until you gasp his name that he realizes how close he is.

“Fuck,” he groans. “The heat of you, the way-” He loses that small shred of control, shuddering as he comes, but before he can say anything else, you’re pulling him back into another kiss. The heat- He half wonders if his mist will burn away with continued exposure to the warmth of you, but he decides then and there that it’d be a lovely way to go.

[magaprima]

Part 2 Episode 6 Analysis (Part 1/?)

“You look like the cat that ate the canary” Lilith says while Adam is sat there just watching her. This is totally a reference to sex, in my honest and frank opinion. It’s just such a look-who-got-some thing to say, and especially when we consider the added canon fro Part 3 where we learned Mary never consummated her relationship with Adam, and we presume this was Mary’s choice and Adam was simply respecting her wishes (’I thought you wanted us to get married’, ‘marriage doesn’t matter to me’), the fact they finally consummated their relationship and then she agreed to get married after they slept together, meaning a double whammy....yeah he’s gonna look like the cat that ate the canary. 

Also, the way Lilith says this, not judging, not even mocking or sarcastic, it’s just an observation, made gently, said affectionately, and she has a genuine smile on her face as she says it. Also, she is doing work. As in Baxter High work. She has brought work home. Lilith brought mortal work things home and is actually doing them. Let’s just appreciate this for a moment. The first woman, the first witch, the rightful Queen of Hell, who is several thousand years old, is actually doing the job of Principal properly, and seems to also be marking papers. And having not done the at work, she has brought them home to finish. She is doing her job not just professionally, but thoroughly. She has work at the table (also the way she’s doing the work at the table and the pile of papers and the pen is paralleled in the Hare Moon episode where she’s at the table, doing all of Sabrina’s regal admin).’

And how domestic is this scene? There’s tea between her and Adam, there’s jam toast (interesting side note, jam is considered something Lilith loves and can be an offering you make to her in worship or plea to her), and he’s just sat comfortably opposite her while she works, and gentle piano music plays on the record player. It’s so very domestic, and there’s such contentedness to it. There’s relaxation and comfort here and we’re seeing Lilith relaxed and at ease, not on edge, which is very rare for her, as she’s always got a guard up in one way or the other, but she seems totally relaxed here. Even when Adam makes his suggestion she take a day off, she doesn’t jump in shock, she doesn’t even stumble, she just smiles at him again, even as she says she has too many responsibilities as Principal to do that (which, considering she does eventually agree, and enjoys herself, so clearly did want to take the day off, the fact she initially refuses because of work is further proof Lilith did end up taking her job at Baxter High quite seriously. So silver lining for Mary, that in the four months she doesn’t ‘remember’, no one can claim she was shoddy at her job).

“You’re underappreciated at that school of yours” Adam says this in a way that suggests he’s said it before and/or he’s thought it for a long time, which I think is really sweet, because that means he’s seen how good a teacher Mary was, how dedicated she was to her students, and how much that was ignored by the likes of Hawthorne and others at the school. Also, it’s tragic to think Mary probably was heavily underappreciated, and probably not very much noticed, because she was just a quiet teacher, who was dedicated to her students and not gossip.

“Mm-hmm, well that’s more true than you know. I have been giving that girl-- uh, that school my all, for some time now and the rewards have been less than I expected”

The fact she gives him a truly honest reply, mentioning Sabrina, and has to stop herself as she realises what she’s saying, shows just how relaxed, confident and comfortable and at ease she is with Adam. She didn’t even think to lie to him, to give her cover story, she just answers him honestly ‘that’s more true than you know, I have been giving that girl--’ and then she snaps herself out of it and we see the mask forced back on, though it’s not to the usual degree we see. Also, we’re seeing more glimpses of Lilith admitting to herself how little the Dark Lord is giving her, how little she’s being repaid, which is a big step for her, considering her fearful and long term dedication to him in Part 1. 

And another important development; when Adam reaches out and grabs her hand, she no longer jumps at the touch. When she first met him, she was tense, wide-eyed and on guard, she jumped at him coming even slightly near her without warning and she looked shocked and bewildered through every kiss and affectionate touch. Now, when he reaches out, she doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t stare at in shock, she doesn’t even look at it in amazement or surprise. She doesn’t look at all. It’s natural for her. Adam reaching out to her has become the norm, Lilith being touch in a gentle, non abusive way has become the norm for her. And she’s smiling at him again. This scene is literally the most we have ever seen Lilith smile in the entire series, and it’s such peaceful, quiet smiling. And it’s all because she’s in a dynamic, a relationship, where she’s being respected and treated well. All she asked for from the very beginning of her creation, and I think this is just a good way to confirm to us, the audience, that Lilith was very much not in the wrong with Adam 1.0,  that when she says he was cruel and speaks of him with horror, with can trust she’s telling the truth, because we see how gentle and happy she is when she does have equality and respect in a relationship. 

And the way her hand goes to her mouth, trying to hold back from the temptation when Adam says enticingly ‘just this once, it’s a day’. Lilith has spent millennia being dedicated to the Dark Lord’s every request, she’s he’s right hand, his foot soldier, his concubine, his supposed Queen, she has answered his every request, and the entire reason she’s in Greendale is to do his bidding. And yet here is someone asking her to do something entirely for herself, something that would be utterly unrelated to the Dark Lord and I think she’s almost shocked by how tempted she is, how much she wants to do something, for the first time in forever, that isn’t related to Lucifer. And that is a long, long habit, a long time to have live a life dedicated to one person, which is why we see her debating, why even in the temptation, she almost resists, but then...she gives in.

And the fucking delight on Adam’s face when she agrees. He is so happy that she’s agreeing to take a day off work and spend the day with him. He’s so pure. He’s utterly in love, and I do mean in love with Lilith, as I’ve said in my other analysis about the way this dynamic worked, and how things changed from Adam’s perspective. Regardless this boy is like a puppy with his head over heels love vibe.

“I’ll be all yours for the rest of the day” Her choice of words is so purposeful here. I said above how everything she does in Greendale is for Lucifer, and now she’s choosing to do something for herself, and it’s important to note that in choosing for herself, she is choosing to be with Adam. It’s not just about the day off, the day away from everything, it’s very much about the company. And that smile is so bright as she said it. This entire scene is her basically smiling from beginning to end and that means so much. And, I know I went on about her hair and the style changes reflecting her level of ‘being herself’ on that long post, but here her hair is getting less ‘Mary’ and more ‘Lilith’, again showing comfortable she is. 

Also she has the red pen throughout. Could be a visual reference to her favouring red in general and her links to Hell. Or it means Lilith may be marking, but she marks a hell of a lot with the red pen...i.e telling all the students they’re wrong, wrong, wrong. 

[a-lame-follower]

Prompt: Double-Date Pairings: Glimmadora, Entrapdak WARNING: Bad writing. (Hey, at least I'm honest)

If they lived through this, Glimmer mused to herself as she shifted the basket from one arm to the other, she was going to seriously consider outlawing puppy dog eyes. To some that might seem drastic, but She had proven far too susceptible to its influence in the past. This situation was just one layer of icing on a multi-tiered cake made with bad decisions and baked in regret.

"I don't know how she convinced me this was a good idea." She said, more to herself than to her companion. "It's not like Hordak ever shown any inclination or desire to connect with others before...right?"

She let her words trail off into a question. For all the negative influence the man had previously had over her life, she couldn't say that she actually knew him personally, not really. Before the planetary bioweapon snafu, the catastrophic mess that was Horde Prime, and before whatever it was that was going on between him and Entrapta, it had been simple. All she'd needed to know was that he'd murdered her father and was a threat to the peace of Eternia. Now, with her father suddenly back from the grave and Hordak relinquishing his title as number one big scary warlord, she didn't know what to think anymore. Well, she thought she'd like to go back to the good old days where things made sense. Back then, all she’d had to do was attack people who attacked her. Inconveniently, that option was no longer available for her. For whatever reason, the fates had decided she had to be "mature" now. Fate could go throw itself off a cliff.

"No, you're right," Adora said, holding a basket of her own. Her voice was a little too cheerful to be genuine. "Hordak has all the charming sociability of a rock."

"Are you sure that's not unfair to the rock?" Glimmer said, smiling and reaching out her free hand to let her partner know she valued her company. Adora seemed grateful for the gesture and clasped the young Queen's hand in her own.

"I stand corrected. " the blonde said after that momentary pause. "I guess I owe the rocks an apology.'

"You could. " she agreed, "But then you'd spend the rest of your life apologizing." She sighed dramatically. "We'd probably never have the time to be alone together again. "

"I can do both!" The taller of that two women objected, before smiling to show she knew she was merely being teased. "But, I guess that is a lot of rocks." She acknowledged sheepishly, those sweet blue eyes meeting hers. "Promise not to tell on me?"

"It'll be our little secret." Glimmer assured before filling the distance between them, standing up on her too toes to capture Adora's lips. Smiling fondly down at the young Queen’s actions, Adora leaned in closer, silently encouraging her partner to seal their pact with a kiss. She felt those gentle lips gently press against her own when-

"They apologize to rocks." A voice growled, practically dripping with condescending disbelief. "How is it that my soldiers have not defeated you?"

-They were rudely interrupted by the arrival of the two people they had been waiting for in the first place. Adora grew rigid, dropping her basket and raising the sword she had used since she'd shattered her old one. Releasing Glimmer’s hand, her body settled into fighting stance, partially sheilding Glimmer from the man’s sight. She might have attacked if Glimmer hadn’t taken that moment to gently stroke her warrior’s arm to settle her. It would help no one if they acted rashly. The princess frowned, clearly uncomfortable in the former warlord's presence.

"Hello, Hordak." Glimmer said with a peace so artificial she knew it fooled no one. She could control the wince that twisted her face as those unnaturally bright red eyes settled on her. She was acutely aware that Adora still hadn't lowered her weapon.

"No, no!" A nasal voice chirped cheerfully. "Obviously, they don't make a habit out of apologizing to just any naturally occurring solid mass or aggregate of minerals or mineraloid matter!" She moved closer to them, using her long purple pigtails to give her additional height."Otherwise, Adora would have already known the sheer magnitude of the assignment she was setting for herself and wouldn't have needed Glimmer to convince her it was a fool's errand." She hummed after a second of stillness, her gaze turning thoughtful. "Though I'm sure you both would have an excellent time spelunking in the caves beneath Bright Moon together." She clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I know I've enjoyed allmost all of my visits to Dryl's mines!"

"It's great to see you, Entrapta." Glimmer said, biting her lip. "I'll keep your idea in mind, but I'm pretty sure my dad would disapprove if I went spelunking on sacred ground with my girlfriend."

"That hardly seems fair." Entrants frowned at her. "Speleology and the geosciences are fascinating; " she waved her arms in palpable enthusiasm. "For all we know, your father could be hindering some marvel of scientific progress!"

Wary of saying something that might result in further association with the fright zone's former despot(like almost volunteering to go on a trip with Entrapta to visit said mines), Glimmer paused. Unsure where she she should take the conversation she looked to Adora for assistance. Instead, she found her lady locked in a staredown with the smirking pointy eared-eared goblin man himself. Apparently Hordak had no intention of making this easier on anyone else so it would be up to them to be obliging in addition to well-mannered.  She sighed deeply through her nose. Then she reached out to touch her protector's arm, tentatively advancing on her as one might approach an injured stable cat.

Sensing her movement, those stunning blue eyes sought her gaze and, after an instant's hesitancy, permitted the touch. Adora was stiff, but she'd expected that from her. This was harder on Adora than it was on her, after all.

He might not have been directly involved in the appalling treatment Adora had suffered during her time in the Horde. However, Hordak had been the Horde's leader on Eternia. As such, he still represented some of the worst it had to offer. What that might entail she was still learn at. Most were quiet things she could only guess at from cryptic words and dark hints left like breadcrumbs leading to a witch's cottage. Still, Adora had voluntarily offered to tag along when Glimmer had told her that Entrapta had somehow managed to wrangle the young Queen into going on an evening picnic with Hordak. She hadn't been required to accompany her, but she'd done it anyway. Her selflessness was just another reason among many to love her.

However, she thought as she brought her hand out to touch the sword, if they were going to be playing nice with Hordak, it was a little counterproductive to have their weaponry drawn and ready for the slaughtering.

It took a second or two, but upon getting the intended message from the smaller woman’s weighted stare, a pout formed on the other girl's adorable little face. It took every inch of Glimmer’s free will not to giggle at the presence of She Ra's greatest weapon.

Fortuitously, Adora understood the value of civility in potentially explosive situations such as this and sheathed the sword before Glimmer's free will could shatter like fine china in the face of her onslaught. Still, it was a very near thing. She couldn't even muster up the composure left to resist the urge to reach up and tousle Adora's fluffy hair. She received a dirty look under thoroughly rumpled bangs as a reward for her wicked act of treachery. Regrettably, she found it endearing rather than chastising, so she let out a mischievous little chuckle that earned a small forgiving smile from her girlfriend and questioning glances from their audience.

"Do you think they've forgotten we're here?" Entrapta asked the man standing beside her in a stage whisper. "I wouldn't normally question it, but they've been silent for several minutes and keep making strange faces at each other."

"They are still quite young," Hordak answered, voice drier than the crimson wastes at high noon. "I wouldn't be surprised in the least to discover they still struggle with object permanence."

" 'They' are very aware of your presence and would prefer you not speak to them like they are children," Adora grumbled, pointedly ignoring the scoff her statement received.

"As you say."

"Anyway." Glimmer said clapping her hands together with a pointed cough. "You wanted us to join you, Entrapta?" She hoped it wasn’t obvious to anyone else how hard she was struggling to regain control of the situation before one of the more volatile members of their party said something that set the other off. If they broke ties with one another she wanted it to be for a good reason. Bombing out of polite conversation 101 was not the droids she was looking for.

"Yes!" said a grinning Entrapta. Minutes before, the older woman had been growing visibly anxious at the heightening tensions she'd inadvertently played a part in inciting. At her name, her face had broadened with her good cheer, making no attempts to disguise her delight for the possible distraction. "Well, I was talking to Hordak the other day while we were recalibrating the base's underwater thermometers after feeding the fish when I learned that he's never been on a picnic before, and-"

"Wait, so he just suddenly decided he wanted to go on one?" Adora asked, confused. “I’ve had picnics described to me before and they always sounded way less enjoyable than they actually are.”

“Um...well, I can’t speak for what you’ve heard as I wasn’t there to witness it.”  Entrapta said, eyebrows furrowing as she stared at her hands rather than make eye-contact. “ But I can say there are numerous benefits to going on a picnic.” She smiled at Adora. “If you’d like I can show you the power point presentation I made for him later.”

Glimmer stared at the former tyrant incredulously, trying and failing to think of how that might come up in conversation between the two. Or how she’d managed to sit someone like Hordak down to a lecture. Or what kind of fish lived in the fright zone. That led to wondering what fish they kept and what they might feed them, before she stopped her mind from wandering in what was very likely a dangerous area. For however long they were to be temporary allies, some things she just didn’t want to know.

"She is very persuasive." He admitted, giving his partner a side-eye, which was met with an encouragingly grin that was nearly blinding in its warmth. Part of Glimer wondered if she was only imagining what appeared to be a subtle flush of heat settling around his ears. Hordak’s eyes glanced quickly from Entrapta to Glimmer then back again. His face grew more determined, as if daring the Queen to laugh.

"I can be that, yeah." she said softly before perking up. “Especially when the data speaks for itself!”

His thin lips upturned, cautiously returning the look she had sent his way. It was a small action, but still, Glimmer had to avert her eyes to avoid letting them witness her second-hand embarrassment. Was this how kids felt when their siblings flirted with people in public? She glanced at Adora and was thankful to know she wasn't the only one feeling discomfited by this. She was not looking forward to when Frosta began considering the possibility of making potential romantic connections.

'Anyway! " Entrapta continued, oblivious to their distress. "I couldn't let that stand when the solution was so readily available." She gave them a meaningful look.

"So you...thought of us? " Adora asked, her confusion obvious.

"Well, not you specifically," Entrapta corrected with a shrug, then grimaced when her friend visibly deflated. "But I am very glad to see you here Adora!"

"That's... That's good to know Entrapta."

"I thought Bow and Glimmer would be the best people to ask since they have prior experience with acquainting and Horde soldiers with everyday civilian activities. " She turned her head to the side, briefly concealing her face with her mask and turning her body away from them. "Well, I tried to ask Bow, but er, his parents got to the line first, and... let's just say they don't approve of Bow talking to Hordak. "

Entrapta drooped further, almost seeming to shrink before their eyes, neither girl knew how to respond to the usually cheerful scientist's change of demeanor. Glimmer doubted they had said anything against Entrapta; they were both caring, empathetic men the universe was better off having. Still, she wouldn't be surprised if they had tried to warn her to stay away from Hordak. Maybe it was a little hypocritical considering where she was and whom she was meeting but She knew she would certainly have banned any child of hers from associating with people who were friends with war criminals. Those two were kinder than she was by far and any hurt feelings were doubtlessly done on accident. But that still meant there were hurts in need of mending. After everything those two had been through, emotions ran deep. She made a mental note to ask Bow about what had happened later.

Talking about what had happened had seemed to take the wind out of Entrapta's figurative sails, and it wasn't until Hordak had marched forward and almost tenderly pushed her against his chest that Entrapta seemed to pull herself together. Glimmer might have been inclined to call what he was doing a hug, had the red eyes not promised death to everything she held dear if she so much as whispered that he might be capable of sentimental feeling.

One day she going to discover his secret to making common actions seem threatening and use that dark talent for something constructive.

"Anyway, with Bow out of the picture that left Glimmer." The Queen wondered if she should be offended that she was the second choice but reasoned that out of the two of them, Entrapta had probably connected with Bow better than herself.

"Thankfully, her dad was out when I called, so I didn't have to worry about protective parenting instincts making things all needlessly confusing." She smiled at Glimmer, unspoken gratitude shining in her eyes. She took a moment to lament the fact that she was being made to feel guilty for second-guessing this trip when the person doing it had no idea she was even doing.

"I'd have taken him by myself, but, well," She could no longer meet their gazes, and seemed content instead to make herself a permanent fixture to Hordak's tunic. "I haven't been on a picnic with people who aren't... y'know... a robot in years, and I wanted to make sure his first time was his best time, so to speak."

"I didn't know who else to turn to, and I acknowledge this request is a lot to ask of you, but..." Her voice was so low, they had to strain their ears to hear her. "I hope it's okay that I asked you to come?"

Silence reigned on both sides as she finished talking. Hordak was glaring at them, commanding them without words to consent to whatever Entrapta asked. Glimmer rolled her eyes at the clone to let him know that his intimidations, impressive as his figure might be, neither frightened her not influenced her decision-making in the slightest. A grunt of what could have been either irritation or amusement was her only response.

Having attempted to assert herself, she decided to put the man out of her mind for now. She was here for Entrapta, not him. Despite their complicated history, they shared a bond.

But... She wasn't the only one who mattered. She stretched out her arm to get Adora's attention. Her partner sent a questioning glance towards Glimmer then went back to watching the scientist with no small amount of concern.

"Are you sure about being here?" Glimmer asked, speaking quietly to ensure they weren't overheard. "She doesn't need both of us. "

"Where you go, so do I," Adora swore, face inscrutable as she grabbed the hand she'd released upon the arrival of the second half of their group.

"I can choose not to do this then." Glimmer said, lowering her eyes to their now connected hands. This was a terrible judgment to make, but she knew that if she was forced to choose, she'd pick Adora over Entrapta. She was her partner. Awful as it might make her feel, her companion's trauma came first. "I don't want you doing anything that will hurt you, Adora."

"You forget something," Adora said in a voice so low she nearly missed it. "Entrapta's my friend too."

Glimmer froze then raised her head to meet Adora's challenging stare. The blonde narrowed her eyes in the face of her companion's reluctance and nodded. The young Queen smiled at the further confirmation of the woman's courage. They might have more than a few reservations about associating with Hordak in any fashion, but they wanted to be there to support their friend where they could.

"We'd be honored to share this meal with you. "

Entrapta's shriek of happiness could have shattered glass.

She wasn't entirely sure, but as their friend began eagerly showing them a neatly catagorized list of all the food she'd had her servants prepare for the evening's events, she thought she might have caught a glimpse of what may have even been gratitude on Hordak's face. Whatever it had been was expertly hidden behind a deliberately neutral mask when she turned around to check.

[mercurysnitch]

Living In The 70s

Summary: Tallulah finds herself in a decade she’s never visited before. It’s a significant visit for Roger too.

A/N: Yes, the Tallulah oneshot is finally here. My christmas present to you all. Probably no one’s gonna read it cos it’s Christmas, but whatever, it’s done now so here you go. I was planning to have a new Ben x reader oneshot up for Christmas but as usual it’s not finished yet. Maybe it’ll be my New Years post. And I have no idea when Mother Mercury part 3 will appear, it’s taking me longer than I was expecting (as usual). I am working on it though.

Anyway, some background to this oneshot: I mentioned this incident in the “epilogue” of Though You’re Many Years Away (at the end of Part 6) without thinking much of it, but then I was inspired to write it. So this is 12-year-old Tallulah seeing Roger in 1978 (aka the beginning of the short hair era). I’m not convinced she actually sounds like a 12-year-old here (it’s been a long time since I was that age, alright?) but hey, I tried. At this point she would have been living in NYC for a few years but I imagine her still speaking with her natural British (London) accent when she’s around Roger. I think I mentioned this somewhere in TYMYA but just to be clear: Roger essentially loses his memories of Tallulah (and Y/N) after she goes back to her present - not straight away, but by the time he wakes up the next morning they’ll all be gone. So he’s never told anyone about Tallulah, because he never remembers her for long enough. Present Roger has gotten most of his memories back though. As always, don’t worry about how the time travel works, it’s a mystery.

This has only been lightly edited, so sorry if I’ve missed any typos. It took me a long time to work out the ending, but I think it all flows ok. But anyway, I decided I might as well put this out and stop agonising over it, so here you are.

Title is from the Skyhooks song. (If you’re not familiar, Skyhooks were about the closest thing Australia had to a home-grown glam rock band back in the early 70s. Incidentally, they played the Sunbury Festival in 1974... alongside Queen, whose set allegedly did not go well, though it might have just been the roadies causing trouble rather than the audience) The story has nothing to do with the song lyrics, I just thought it was a catchy title.

Warnings: Light swearing, inaccurate twelve-year-old, weird tone shifts. 

*******************************************************************************************

Tallulah's phone buzzed. The screen showed a single word: Dad. Weird, she thought, he wouldn't normally ring this early. She answered the call with an attempt at a cheery "Morning, Dad." "Afternoon, Loolie" Roger replied automatically. "How are you, love?" "Awake" Tallulah grumbled. "I'm sorry to wake you so early, sweetheart," her father told her, "but I needed to talk to you. Your mum told me you travelled again yesterday, but she said this time was… different?" "It was" Tallulah agreed, annoyed that her mother had immediately told her father what had happened. "How was it different?" Roger asked. "I went to the 70s" his daughter responded. "What year?" he probed. "1978. You don't remember?" Tallulah replied incredulously. "Strangely enough, no" Roger explained. Suddenly he realised what his daughter's question was implying. "Did something… memorable happen in 1978?" he asked gently. "I think… I think it was the first time you'd ever seen me travel" Tallulah said quietly. "Well, you'd think I'd remember that" Roger commented. "So, tell me what happened." "Well, I left from my bed…" Tallulah began.

Tallulah found herself on a chair in an unfamiliar room. She groaned as she took in her surroundings. When her head cleared, she realised she was in a dressing room of some kind. Must be backstage somewhere. Ooh, I wonder if it's Live Aid? I'd love to go there one day. She stood up gingerly, trying to decide whether it would be safe to leave the room. She was still looking around, trying to work out roughly when she'd ended up, when the door suddenly opened, and her father's voice flowed into the room. "I'm sure it's in here Fred, just give me a minute, alright?" Roger called over his shoulder, not paying attention to the room in front of him. He looks young. Very young. The door was almost fully closed before he noticed the blonde girl standing next to the vanity desk.

"What the fuck? Who the hell are y-wait, how old are you? What are you doing in here?" he asked, angry and very confused. "Dad?" Tallulah breathed, still trying to guess how old he was. Roger hastily pushed the door all the way shut. "Alright, what's going on?" he asked crossly. "Dad, don't you remember?" Tallulah pleaded, suddenly very scared.  Does he not know who I am? Is this the first time for him? "Remember wh-?" Roger started to question her again, but stopped abruptly as a flood of memories suddenly came rushing back. "Tallulah?” He breathed. “Are you Tallulah?" She nodded, still near tears. "But… but…you're only three… how?" he asked, struggling to process the revelation. "Actually, right now, I'm twelve. I'm time travelling from the future" Tallulah explained, matter-of-factly. Then Roger’s shocked comment registered properly. "Wait a minute, did you say I'm three? What year is this?" He was still travelling when I was three. "It's 1978, love" Roger said gently. 1978. 78. I'm in the seventies. Holy shitballs. "You alright?" he asked softly, seeing the shock on his daughter's face. "Yeah, it's just that… this is the first time you've seen me travel, isn't it?" she asked. "This isn't the first time for you?" he replied. "God no," Tallulah laughed, "I've been travelling since I was little." More than half my life, actually.

Suddenly the blood drained from her face. Shit. I shouldn't have said that. I can't tell him about his future, it's the rules. Crap. Despite the massive revelations he was grappling with, Roger couldn't help noticing the abrupt change in his daughter's expression. "Are you ok, love?" he asked gently. "You look scared. Why are you- hang on." He stopped abruptly as the implications of Tallulah's statement finally registered. "If this isn't the first time for you, but it is for me, that means… I'm going to see you again, aren't I?" "Yes" Tallulah nodded. "When?" Roger asked simply. "I can't tell you Dad, I'm sorry. It's against the rules" she said sadly. "Rules?" he questioned. "Yeah, I'm not allowed to tell you about your future cause you might try and change it and, like, that would be bad" she explained. All Roger could say to that was a flabbergasted, "Oh. Right."

"So anyway," Tallulah said casually, "how long since you last saw me, Dad?" Roger thought for a moment. "Four months. I think it's been four months" he said eventually. "You know, I have that same conversation every time I see your mother" he commented suddenly, chuckling slightly. "We do that every time too" his daughter replied sadly. “Something to look forward to, then” Roger murmured, smiling wryly. "Yeah" Tallulah agreed. "So, Dad, is this the News of the World T-" She stopped abruptly at the unmistakable sound of Freddie Mercury's dulcet tones emanating from the other side of the door. Shit, he's gonna see me. Shit. Should I hide?

"Honestly, Roger, how long does it take to find a fucking…" Freddie called out as he swept into Roger's dressing room. His voice trailed off at the sight of two identical pairs of big blue eyes staring back at him. Oh shit. Freddie's seen me now. Shit. "Roger, who is this?" Freddie asked suspiciously. The drummer glanced at his daughter, who flashed him a quick, reassuring, smile. "Fred, this is my daughter, Tallulah" Roger explained calmly. His friend smiled. "I thought so.” “You what? How?” Roger spluttered. Freddie snorted. “Roger dear, if she looked any more like you she would be you.” Turning to Tallulah, he smiled kindly. “How old are you, dear?" he asked gently. "Twelve" she replied unthinkingly. Oh shit. Freddie's eyes widened. "You've been hiding this delightful child from me for the entire time we've known each other?" he accused Roger, looking scandalised. "No, Fred, it's not like that…" Roger attempted to soothe his friend. "Well then what is it like?" Freddie asked, unconvinced. The drummer glanced at Tallulah. "Just tell him the truth, Dad, he won't remember anything tomorrow" she assured him. Roger looked surprised. "He won't?" "Well you never did" she explained. "Oh. Right" He mused. "Roger, what on earth is going on?" Freddie cried, thoroughly confused. "It's… complicated" Roger explained.  

Roger took a moment to collect his thoughts while he locked the dressing room door to prevent further unwelcome interruptions. “Look Fred, no-one else knows about Tallulah here. No-one knows what I’m about to tell you either, and I’d like to keep it that way, alright?” Freddie nodded. He understood the need for secrecy in one’s personal life, possibly more than Roger knew. “Alright then. Now what I’m about to say is going to sound completely bonkers, but it really is the truth, I swear” Roger went on. “The fact is, Tallulah’s a time traveller. Like her mother. She’s actually visiting from-” “Her mother?” Freddie questioned, cutting off his friend. “Actually, who is her mother? Do I know her?” “As a matter of fact you do” Roger replied calmly. “Do you remember Y/N?” “Y/N…” Freddie mused. “Oh, the one who visited the studio when we were doing the third album? Seemed like she dropped off the face of the earth after that, what happened to her?” he asked pleasantly. “She went back to the future and had Tallulah” Roger deadpanned. Freddie’s eyes went wide. “She had- But Roger, that was only four years ago” he pointed out, shocked. “This darling child is much older than that.” Roger smiled calmly. “I know Fred, that’s what I’m telling you. Y/N was only visiting from the future back then, like Tallulah is now” he explained matter-of-factly. “But surely time travel isn’t real?” Freddie protested, though Roger could tell he was wavering on the brink of believing everything. “It’s real Fred” Roger said quietly. “I know it’s real because I’ve done it.” Freddie's eyes widened, but he seemed shocked beyond words. "You do believe me, don't you?" Roger asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Suddenly Freddie smiled. "You know I always believe you, dear" he reassured Roger, much to the latter's relief.

Freddie turned to Tallulah with a kind smile. "Are you staying for the show tonight?" he asked. "I'll try," she replied casually. "Good. You must come and watch from the wings, you'll get the best view" he told her. "Fred, no, someone could see her" Roger protested frantically. "No-one will notice her while we're on stage, darling" Freddie quipped, totally unconcerned. "What about the roadies though?" Roger countered. "They'll be busy" Freddie replied airily. "And if they're not?" Roger remained unconvinced. "Oh, just say she's your cousin or something, they won't care, dear" Freddie assured him. "My cousin?" Roger questioned. "Any idiot could see she's related to you, darling. The resemblance is frankly staggering." Roger sighed, defeated. "Fine. But if anything happens to her it's on your head." Freddie just smiled happily. "Alright then. I'd better get back, they'll be wondering what I'm up to. You'd better hurry back too, we've got a show in half an hour." Freddie bustled to the door. "Don't tell them about her. Please" Roger begged him as he reached it. Freddie turned back for a moment, smiling kindly. "It'll be our secret, dear" he assured his friend, sweeping out of the room.

"Wait, you met Freddie? Why don't I remember that?" Roger questioned, somewhat shocked at the lost memory. "I don't know, Dad" Tallulah sighed. "Maybe because you were still travelling yourself back then? Maybe whatever you remembered got wiped the next time you travelled or something…" she suggested, not really sure herself. "Yeah maybe. 'S weird though. Well, weirder than usual" Roger chuckled. “So anyway, did you stay for the concert?” “I did” Tallulah confirmed. “You weren’t that happy about it though…”

Roger stared grumpily at the door his friend had just passed through. “I can’t believe he’s talked me into this. Does he not care what could happen to you in the wings…” he trailed off, muttering darkly. “Dad, relax. I’ve been hanging out backstage at your concerts since I was little, I’ll be fine” Tallulah reassured him. Roger was shocked. “Really? Have people seen you before?” Tallulah thought for a moment. “A couple of the roadies have, but they think I’m your cousin.” For some reason this revelation seemed to calm Roger. “Well I suppose you’ll be ok then.” “Should be” Tallulah grinned. “I’ll try and stay out of sight though, then I won’t have explain anything.” This possibility pleased Roger. “Good. As soon as the show’s over I’ll take you back to the hotel. We can hang out there without anyone seeing us. Until then, stay out of trouble. Please.” Tallulah smiled reassuringly. “Of course.” Roger turned to leave. “One other thing” he added suddenly. “Make sure no-one sees you leave here. There’s a few reporters about and I don’t want to know what they might say if they spotted you coming out of my dressing room.” Tallulah barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Yes Dad” she sighed. Roger was incensed. “Don’t get smart with m-” Tallulah cut him off with a smile. “I’m not Dad, I just think it’s funny that you think this is my first time sneaking around your dressing rooms.” “It’s not?” Roger wasn’t sure if he was actually surprised or not at this point. “I told you, I’ve been running around at your concerts forever” Tallulah explained. “I know what I’m doing, don’t worry.” Roger grinned cheekily. “Alright then. I’ve got to go back in there now, but I’ll see you after the show.”

It was a good show that night. Freddie was in excellent form, and the crowd lapped it up. Fortunately Freddie was so transfixing on stage that no one noticed Roger looking a lot less worked up than usual. Roger himself was simply amazed his own child was watching him play. Tallulah enjoyed herself immensely, but then Queen concerts were always enjoyable. Watching from side of stage was a bit special though. As she’d expected, there was so much going on backstage that no one payed her much attention. Besides, special guests in the wings weren’t anything unusual at Queen concerts.

Freddie caught Tallulah's eye as the band came off stage, and she took that as her cue to scurry out of sight until they were safely in their shared cool down area. The stream of roadies, assistants and assorted visitors that followed the band took an almost unbearably long time to pass, but finally the coast was clear for Tallulah to dash into Roger's currently empty dressing room. As she shut the door she silently gave thanks for whatever force of the universe had sent the inevitable queue of pretty ladies to the band's shared space tonight instead of individual dressing room doors. Tallulah settled in to wait for her dad, assuming it would be a while before he could make his escape. She could hear snatches of conversation from the next room, and it sounded like they were getting ready for a party. Freddie declared the band "simply must celebrate tonight, dears" to general approval, though there were a few dissenters. Tallulah thought she recognised Brian's voice among those who were less than enthused. Good old Uncle Bri. He was never a party animal, even though he was a rock star. She didn't know many of the voices babbling away on the other side of the wall, but amongst the throng she could hear her dad grumbling about something she couldn't quite make out. She expected the conversation to continue for a long time, but within minutes there was a lull, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps at the dressing room door. Tallulah was attempting to press herself into a corner when the door opened to reveal Roger, back in street clothes and probably in need of a shower, but nonetheless glad to see his daughter. "Good, you're still here" he observed, smiling. "Did you like the show?" Tallulah beamed. "It was great, Dad! Freddie's amazing, and you sang so well, and…" Roger's face lit up at her praise, and he was so pleased he lost track of what she was saying as she babbled on enthusiastically. She was still smiling when she finally quieted. "Glad you enjoyed it" Roger commented, grinning. "Freddie's distracting everyone for a few minutes so we can get out of here" he explained. "I thought we could go back to the hotel, get room service, just hang out together." Tallulah smiled gently. "Whatever you want, Dad."

Half an hour later found Roger and Tallulah sprawled on the enormous bed in his hotel room, Roger now ensconced in a fluffy white bathrobe. "I have… really quite a lot of questions about this whole… situation" Roger mused. Tallulah smiled. “Ask me then.” “You said there were rules though” Roger pointed out. “There’s some things I’m not allowed to tell you” Tallulah explained. “Such as…?” “The future” Tallulah said simply. “I can’t tell you anything about your future.” “Why not?” At this point Roger was curious rather than annoyed. “Because you might try to change it, and accidentally change history and that could, like, destroy the world, or something” Tallulah explained. According to Mum, anyway.

Roger looked baffled until he remembered something and suddenly grinned. Tallulah was very confused. “What?” “I just remembered having almost this exact conversation with your mother once” Roger explained. “God this situation is weird.” “What’s weird?” Tallulah asked. Probably the time travel. I’m so used to it I always forget how weird it is to everyone else. “Well, the time travel’s quite odd, but I’m nearly used to that” Roger clarified. “But the last time I saw you, you were only three years old, and now it’s only been a few months but you’re nearly a teenager.” Tallulah nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s not really normal, is it?”

“Not even a little bit” Roger quipped. “But I s’pose it’s basically your normal these days.” “Well I don’t do it every day” Tallulah explained. “But I’ve been doing it for so long it’s just… another part of my life now.” Roger looked thoughtfully at his daughter. “It’s going to be my life, too, isn’t it?” he mused. “What is?” Tallulah asked, not quite following his thoughts. “You turning up randomly like this” he clarified. She smiled. “I guess it is” she agreed.

Roger welcomed this information with a smile. “So, when will I see you again?” he asked casually. Tallulah shrugged. “I don’t know.” Roger was baffled. “But it's all in the past. How can you not know?” "It's not the past for me" she explained. "And the next time I see you probably won't be the next time you see me." Roger was quiet as he pondered the implications of her statement. "So does that mean... you're not visiting me in order?" "Pretty much" Tallulah agreed. "I mean, I did when I was little, but I don't any more." "When you were little?" Roger echoed. Tallulah nodded. "At first you were older every time I saw you. But then one day I ended up at a time way before the last time I'd been to." "We fell out of sync" Roger murmured wonderingly. Suddenly his jaw dropped. "Wait, if you're... And that's all in my future, then..." His rambling was cut off when he broke into a huge grin. Tallulah was confused. "What?" "I'm actually going to get to see you grow up!" Roger cried joyfully.

"Well, I wasn’t wrong" Roger quipped, chuckling. Tallulah murmured her agreement, contemplating the meaning of young Roger’s comment. “You were… why were you so happy about seeing me grow up?” She finally asked. Roger sighed. “Well, sweetheart, back then I was still visiting you. Of course I never knew when I might go, and as you got bigger I started to wonder when it might stop.” “When what might stop?” “The visits” Roger explained. “They were getting shorter, with more time in between. It didn’t feel like a good sign.” “Mum said she felt the same” Tallulah commented. Roger wasn’t surprised. “She’s a clever woman, your mum.” He paused. “Anyway,” he went on, “I thought, back then, that when the visits eventually stopped I’d never see you again.” Finally Tallulah was starting to understand. “And that made you sad.” “Exactly” Roger agreed. “But then you told me I was wrong.” 

"You know," Tallulah mused, "I always thought you'd just accepted the weirdness of me travelling, I didn't think you were all that happy about it." Roger sighed. "I wasn't, actually, but if the alternative was never seeing you or being in your life, I was quite happy to deal with the occasional weirdness." "But you are in my life" Tallulah commented, confused. "I am now" Roger pointed out. "But back then I didn't know that would happen." "Oh yeah" Tallulah agreed.  

Tallulah was quiet for a moment, considering the other implications of yesterday's adventure. "So I guess we know something now" she commented. "I'm not going to end any earlier than 1978." "Not necessarily" Roger replied. Tallulah was confused. "But you'd never seen me before?" "I know" Roger responded. "But just because I didn't see you it doesn't mean you weren't there." "So you mean… I might go back to the 70s again but not end up near you?" Tallulah said slowly, trying to understand what this revelation might mean. "But what will I do?" she fretted. "You'll be ok" Roger soothed. "I'll teach you a few useful things, just in case." 

Suddenly he sighed. "You'll have to be careful though. Especially if you end up in ’74." "What happened in 1974?" Tallulah asked, confused. Roger smiled. "You did." Tallulah did know that, she thought, but she also knew she was born in 2014, and honestly it was hard enough keeping track of which years she’d visited, let alone other vaguely important years in her personal history. And besides, who bothered to take note of when they’d been conceived? Although, for most people it wasn’t four decades before their birth. Then again, Tallulah was definitely not most people. And she wouldn't want to change that for the world.

*******************************************************************************************

A/N 2: A couple of quick explanations: Tallulah’s being deliberately vague so Roger doesn’t find out when she’s likely to visit him again, but until this point she’d only seen him at various points in the early eighties (up to 1985). She’s definitely going to visit him in the 70s again though. And she’s going to keep travelling at least into her early 20s (she has the ability to stop herself going if she really needs to, but it’s quite tiring so she doesn’t like doing it much when she’s young.) Also, something I always envisioned but never quite managed to show anywhere is that Tallulah is quite close to present Brian, who is of course absolutely fascinated by her abilities and has been sort of studying her experiences since she was a child. And present Roger likes to talk through Tallulah’s visits to the past with her after the fact, though Tallulah isn’t always in the mood.

Universal Taglist: @wandering-at-midnight @fruityfreddie @trumanjo @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark @itsametaphorbriansblog @theedwardscollection @simplyvictoria-93 @kotoamor @j1224  @florenceivy @jennyggggrrr @mercurycrowley @xstrawverrymilktaex

[empathyled]

@bewitchedandblessed​​ wanted a romantic Gabriel/Katyae kiss!

        She’s grateful for Gabriel’s cooperation regarding her situation. He fits into the role they’ve discussed near seamlessly. But it does mean that she needs to spend more time with Gabriel in order to maintain the appearance that they are actually dating. Initially, that took some time to adjust to. Their ruse required a little more closeness than Katyae was used to and she’d fumbled awkwardly around him during the first few weeks. However, she quickly came to realize just how much she thoroughly enjoyed hanging out with Gabriel. He was charismatic and genuinely seemed to have a good heart. What wasn’t there to enjoy? 

        Tonight had been a spur of the moment decision to go out and have dinner together. To her delight, Gabriel always seemed to know all the best places to go. She was enjoying herself listening to him talk about some of the mischief he’d gotten himself into earlier in his life  --  when suddenly, she FEELS IT. The sensation of ravenous eyes are upon her, licking heated flame across her senses and sounding off loud warning bells in her head. Katyae knows what it means before she even turns towards the source. Her heart jack hammers painfully against her ribs when she sees FANG watching them from across the street; fists balled deep into the pockets of his jacket and gaze BURNING SCARLET under the shadows of his hood.

        Her breath hitches sharply. She knows without needing to rely on her empathy that he is ENRAGED by the sight of her with Gabriel. 

        An anxious shudder runs down Katyae’s spine, leaving an uncomfortable CHILL in its wake. Her thoughts jumble with increasing panic as fingers begin to tremble against the stem of her wine glass -- but the anxiety eases some when Gabriel leans forward to reach out and brush steady fingers against hers. It drags Katyae back to center as she focuses on the sound of his voice. 

                “ Kat, are you okay? ”

        She glances back at Gabriel, mouth parting wordlessly as she tried to express her UNEASE through looks alone. He frowned. Vulnerability swelled tightly through her chest as Katyae battled over what to say, but thankfully she didn’t need to say anything at all. Instead, Gabriel follows the path of her previous gaze and sees the issue himself -- brows furrowing into a GLARE that he directs shamelessly at Fang. Katyae draws in a deep, ragged breath. She’s certain that Fang is none too pleased with a display that he likely sees as some sort of CHALLENGE. 

                “ Gabriel, ”

        The call of his name is low but demanding with an edge of steel that she typically doesn’t weave into her voice. It’s a peek into the part of her that’d been raised to be FEARLESS and UNWAVERING -- a glimpse into who she was beyond simply being KIND and FRIENDLY. And it’s enough to drag Gabriel’s attention back towards her. Katyae breathes out a soft sigh and forces a small -- if strained -- smile. She nodded her chin towards the exit. 

                “ I don’t feel like an audience tonight.                                                    Would you walk me home? ”

        He relents without argument, possibly because he understands by this point in their knowing one another that if he were to refuse her... she probably would have just gotten up and walked home by herself. It isn’t an easy thing to admit to, but Katyae feels absolutely helpless with the need to RUN each and every time Fang would force himself back into her life. It overpowered all logic. Fang SCARED her. 

        They exited the restaurant and Katyae couldn’t help the glance over her shoulder towards where she’d last seen Fang. He wasn’t there anymore, though. She’s not sure if she’s relieved that he’s gone for now or incredibly worried about where he might have slunk off to. Chewing on her cheek, she leaned into Gabriel as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. The moment has passed, so Katyae tries to empty her thoughts of Fang. Instead, she focuses on the now familiar hum of Gabriel’s psyche pressing against her senses. It’s reassuring. It’s SAFE. 

        They’re silent most of the walk home, perhaps both lost to their own thoughts as a result of the unfortunate turn of the evening. It’s a stark reminder as to why this whole arrangement was struck between them -- but Katyae doesn’t like the way it suddenly makes her feel so defeated. This was never meant to be anything more than EXTRA MUSCLE from a good friend willing to help her out of a possibly dangerous situation. Even so, her heart ACHES in a way that she’s afraid to give a name to. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but it is a feeling that is similar to what had gotten her into this whole mess with Fang in the first place.

        She glances over at him through the corner of her eye, tracing his expression and making guesses as to what he might be thinking. Gabriel has such a depth to his eyes that she nearly feels lost looking into them, but then her gaze drops -- dipping from his eyes slowly down towards his lips. Katyae’s throat tightens and she swallows thickly, quickly averting her gaze once more. She ignores the burning flush of orange that now stains her cheeks. Really, she should NOT be thinking about what had just crossed her mind… It was inappropriate.

                                                          RIGHT? 

        Heart hammers against aching ribs as they neared their destination. Katyae couldn’t fathom why she suddenly felt so jittery with nerves the closer and closer they got to her apartment. Was it because she knew that once she entered through that door, the night would truly over? She’s not sure, but she is sure that the loss of his arm from her shoulders makes her feel COLD. Green hues find their way back to Gabriel to see him motion for her to climb up the stairs first. Ah, right. Two people couldn’t climb these steps at once anyways. 

                                    Even so, the loss is an unhappy one.

        Katyae makes her way up the three flights of stairs at an even pace, only this time she’s VIVIDLY aware of his presence at her back. Each time she rounds the corner towards the next staircase, she has to remind herself to STOP swaying her hips so much. While it could be taken as nothing more than innocent teasing, Katyae knows that isn’t the case right now . In fact, it’s more a selfish ploy to draw his attention towards her body. Was that toeing the line of what might be appropriate for their arrangement? PERHAPS. Yet she does it all the same.

        Their journey comes to an end as she stops in front of familiar door. Katyae takes a deep breath and steels herself for what comes next: goodbyes. She pivots sharply on her heel only to realize that Gabriel is RIGHT BEHIND HER. A quiet noise of surprise escapes past parted lips as her body stiffens with surprise over their close proximity. A wide gaze rises to find his. Gabriel smiles at her then, oozing all sorts of natural charisma that made Katyae’s knees suddenly feel WEAK. She marvels at the beauty of his smile for a moment, before he speaks and her cheeks flush a dark butterscotch all over again.

                “ Will you be okay by yourself tonight? ”

        It’s an innocent question but her mind takes it and runs wild. Stars, what if she told him NO? Would he invite himself inside and spend the night with her? The idea manifests wicked thoughts that make her body BURN with sudden heat. Katyae awkwardly clears her throat and ducks her head, hiding behind the thick curtain of golden locks until the rush of passion fueled desire feels more under control. As much as her greedy heart begs her to say otherwise, when she looks up again it is to smile reassuringly. 

                “ Yeah, I’ll be fine. I don’t think he followed us or anything, ”

        Gabriel nods in understanding, but neither of them move away from each other yet. Reluctance keeps the both of them frozen where they usually would separate without issue. Now, an odd tension seems to coil through Katyae’s gut -- snaking through her ribs and sinking fangs of adrenaline into her bloodstream. Katyae isn’t sure why this feels like one of the hardest goodnights they’ve ever shared, but it does and she can’t explain why without acknowledging the sudden development of feelings she has. Heart YEARNING and ACHING, she finally breaks the spell by taking two steps back and putting that distance back up between them. 

                “ Okay, well… goodnight, Gabriel. ”

                “ Goodnight, Katyae. ”

        She smiles at him and feels warm when he smiles in kind. After another pregnant pause, Katyae nodded and turned around to face the door to her apartment. Her fingers delicately traced the round edge of the doorknob, yet she did not turn it. Something kept her from admitting the night was OVER and walking inside. Indecision, perhaps. An IMPULSE that had been steadily growing stronger -- one that begged her to act on the temptation she’d refused to give attention. The strength of that impulse spikes suddenly when she hears Gabriel turn and begin to walk away. Katyae’s heart lurches and she nearly trips over her own feet whipping back around.

                “ Hey, uh, Gabriel? ”

        He turned back towards her with a raised brow, confusion evident across his features. Katyae offered him a shy, lopsided smile before stepping closer and bridging that distance between them once more. Green hues looked up and for a moment her eyes are sharp and calculating -- quickly mapping out what path she plans to take moving forward. He waits patiently while she debates with her own thoughts, and she feels more than hears his sharp breath as her palm ultimately settles against his chest. Katyae hums, shifting her weight up on her tiptoes. 

                “ I’m pretty sure couples give each other a                                              goodnight kiss after a date, yeah? ”

        The words are just a murmur as the space between them continues to dwindle. It’s a dangerous game she’s decided to play -- this isn’t a part of their arrangement and they BOTH know it. But Gabriel’s arm snakes around her waist, anchoring her to him, and Katyae starts to forget about why that matters. She feels the rise and fall of his breath against her chest as she leans into him, her free hand rising to brush adoring fingertips gently across the slope of his jaw. The touch is rewarded with the pleased flutter of his lashes as he takes a moment to relish in the affection. While they are no strangers to exchanging physical contact, this feels entirely different. It feels INTIMATE and that thought sends tiny shivers spreading across Katyae’s skin. 

        He doesn’t reply to her question, but she feels his UNSPOKEN DESIRE either way. It flares against her senses and stokes the heat that has already found a home within her ikor. Katyae hums thoughtfully. Gabriel is giving her an OUT, isn’t he? His silence offers her the chance to pull away if this isn’t something she really wants. She wishes she could tell him exactly what she wanted, but even she doesn’t know for certain. 

                                                                           Katyae just WANTS. 

        The hand at his jaw trails back towards the nape of his neck, fingers carding through dark locks and admiring the soft texture. Both of them are practically holding their breath as she stretches up until her face is more level with his. She waits, catches his gaze and seeks out voiceless permissions, before slowly advancing further.

        She’s gentle at first -- velvet lips brush featherlight over his own, the ghosting sensation sending delightful tingles rippling across her psyche and sparking against his. Katyae takes her time to learn and explore as she traces the shape of Gabriel’s mouth with those soft kisses, relishing the way he eventually began to chase her each time she would pull away. As she started to apply more pressure to her kisses, he responded by curling his fingers deeper into the meat of her hip. The encouragement earned him a needy noise from the back of her throat.

               It was at this point that a switch seemed to FLIP between them.

        Katyae barely noticed as they began to stumble backwards -- her back hit the door to her apartment and Gabriel pressed up against her with no room to spare. Dizziness overtook her mind and lungs felt tight with lack of oxygen as their sweet kisses turned into something more FRENZIED and DESPERATE. Katyae whimpered quiet noises into a bruising kiss, fingers tightening their grip against his scalp. Gabriel swallowed each noise, skilled mouth taking control between them. He definitely had more experience between the two of them when it came to kissing, but she wasn’t without skill either. Katyae let her teeth drag across his lower lip after a particularly intense kiss, potential sting soothed by the careful sweep of warm tongue. He groaned and Katyae swore that he was leaving bruises against her hip now.

           Fingers gently release their hold of Gabriel’s hair as Katyae’s head falls back to rest against the door. Her chest heaves, lungs momentarily struggling to draw in oxygen, as the twitches of a smile begin to pull at the corners of her lips. A swell of something BRIGHT and HAPPY resonates through her chest, giddy and innocent in a way that leaves her nearly GLOWING. Low light pulses within the center of green hues as Katyae peers at Gabriel through her lashes. His hair was a mess now, disheveled by her own making, but hers was likely no better. With a small, nervous chuckle, she reached up to smooth out the messy locks as best she could. 

                        They’ve certainly crossed some kind of line now.