#no one wants pictures taken with me or by me and I'm guessing a fair bit of that is because they don't want the reminder

[battywitch]

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[imaginesmai]

Right around the corner (3) - Azriel

LISTEN I CAN EXPLAIN if you've been here for a while now, you can expect this part. If not, may I present myself - hi, I'm Mai and I'm an angst queen bitch. Fourth part already on the way, don't worry!

(1), (2), (3), (4), (5)

Plot: the turth comes out, but in a way Azriel didn't expect.

Warnings: prepare tissues.

Azriel had taken his time to process the words, and in the meanwhile, he had received so many notes from his family that he had his hands full of small paper balls.

There were notes from Feyre updating him of the screaming match between Cassian and Rhysand, long texts from Mor promising him the house was a safe place for you and that he better hurry to bring you out. Even Amren had written a brief ‘I knew it, boy’ that had him more worried than before.

It wasn’t as if he didn’t want you to meet them. He loved his family like nothing else, and knew they would only be supportive and kind to his new status. Him being mated or not didn’t change the way they saw him, but part of him – the part that had felt rejection from his mother and his blood-family, was scared.

Azriel ended up sitting in the kitchen counter in front of you with a frown and a growing headache. Even though it was late and you had had a long day, you instantly noticed his mood.

“What’s wrong?”

It wasn’t unusual for Azriel to go quiet in your presence. You had learned by then that it didn’t mean you did something wrong. Most of the times, it was his insecurities popping up randomly in his mind, the troubles of the day dragging him away from you.

And through the years, you had learned that there was nothing else to do but to stay close to him and remind him that he was there. Right with you, and that you loved him.

Still, as you stared at him that night, you noticed it wasn’t the usual frown. He snuck glances at you and moved from the couch, where he was banned, to the kitchen. You left the bowl aside and stood in front of him, one arm extended so he could hold your hand.

“How do you know Feyre?” he asked, not taking your hand.

“Feyre as… the high lady?”

“Yeah. You greeted her the other day. You two know each other?”

“Guess so. She has her art study right in front of my bakery, haven’t you noticed?” you answered, not understanding the nature of the question. “When she moved in, I baked her a welcome to the neighborhood pie and she has actually painted two of the pictures I hang on the wall”

“Feyre painted pictures for you?” Azriel raised an eyebrow. “Are you two friends?”

“Well, not friends per say, but we know each other. That’s what usually happens when you work in front of someone else’s work” you shrugged, you open hand still empty. “Why?”

“I didn’t know you knew her”

“Should you know I know her? For any specific reason?”

“It would have been nice to know you know my high lady. My brother’s mate”

“Now you know. What’s with all this ‘you know I know’? Why does it matter?”

You didn’t understand why but there was an annoyed edge on his voice that you didn’t like. As a morning person, you usually went to bed early, and any minute past midnight was a minute you were supposed to be asleep. No matter how nice it was to spend time with Azriel and how good he had made you feel an hour ago, now you were annoyed.

The male stared at you, still not answering your silent call for his hand. One of his many shadows crossed the table and jumped at the chance of tangling between your fingers. That would have been enough to make you laugh any other day.

That night, you just stared at each other.

“Az, why are you so – “

“Because you should have told me, Y/N” he cut you off. “You know how important my family is to me, and I think it’s fair to ask that if you know any of them you should tell me. So I’m prepared for this”

“What’s this exactly? Late night discoveries about my neighbors?”

Azriel was quiet for a moment, frustration clear in his features. It was a stupid argument over a stupid situation, and Azriel being on his underwear and you only on his t-shirt without panties didn’t make it any less stupid. You rarely argued, and when you did, it was you who had the pointless argument and Azriel the calm one.

His shadows moved behind the couch and dumped in front of you a bunch of papers. They were all wrinkled and Azriel didn’t have time to hide them or think about how to approach the situation before a new one popped out of thin air. It landed next to your open hand, his shadow catching it and unfolding the content.

Does she eat cereal straight from the box? Is it why you’re hiding her?

You didn’t need to think hard to know it was talking about you, and who the note belonged to. In the past, Rhysand had sent notes to Azriel while you were having a shower together, in bed together, and one had even appeared inside your oven while he was helping you around.

“Feyre told them about you” Azriel explained, having read the note upside down. “And because I didn’t know you knew her, now they are deeply offended and want to meet you”

It took you a while to make sense to his words, because you couldn’t find the problem past you not telling him about Feyre. Quickly, you read some of the notes where Cassian threatened Azriel and Rhysand demanded his presence. They were friendly notes, no harm in them. Still, you couldn’t understand the utter sadness until you realized the meaning behind his annoyance.

Finally, you pulled your hand back to your side, not with little resistance from the shadow. You must have opened the bond channel because Azriel frowned, hit with sadness instead of the usual love.

The first note, where Rhysand explained that Feyre had told him, was what brought it all together.

“You haven’t told them you have a mate”

It occurred to you that you had believed it done with no proofs. You didn’t mind Azriel being at your house, living in your apartment. You didn’t mind having separate Starfall and lives. You didn’t mind either when he left for a family dinner and kissed you goodbye, because you understood his need of privacy, of having something that was just his.

What you didn’t understand until that moment that he hadn’t even told them you existed. And through all the reasons that ran to your mind at his silence, you couldn’t pick just one.

“It’s not that they don’t know me. They don’t know you’re mated”

“You agreed when I said I need to take things slowly. That I needed time” he blurted out suddenly, your sadness making space for his annoyance. “The bond was a surprise for me. I didn’t want to rush things”

“Azriel it’s been six years. Six! It’s not a casual fling or a one-night stand” you tried to voice your hurt, your sadness. “It’s not the same not meeting them that being a secret”

“It’s not like I keep you a secret. They haven’t asked and I haven’t – “

“Because you haven’t told them! What – How do you explain the days you spend here? And the… I – Azriel, we’ve been dating for six years and they haven’t asked?”

“They’re used to me sneaking around”

“For months?” you chuckled. “We were locked here for months after we mated. How did you explain that?”

His words were background noise because, above his absences, there was something you realized they should have noticed. Something anyone noticed from mated pairs as soon as they left the house. White noise filled your ears as he tried to excuse himself by talking about missions.

About your safety, about the worry of something happening to you if they discovered you were his mate.

Azriel blurred in front of you as realization hit you and tears filled your eyes. You could barely hold it together as you spoke.

“You’ve been hiding the mating bond” your breath hitched, because if there was something more important than your bakery, it was your bond. “They should have smelt it. But you’ve been hiding it”

“I didn’t hide it, please, don’t say it like that” his voice broke at the end, willing you to listen to him.

“Right. Because you can’t hide the bond from them unless you don’t accept it” you saw the moment your words hit him, the guilt in the way his shadows almost clouded your vision and his wings flared. “You didn’t accept the bond”

Azriel didn’t answer and, worse than any other betrayal or pain, it broke your heart. You remembered offering him the lemon pie, him tearing up and eating. Accepting the bond was an individual decision, one he should have made years ago – just like you did.

You still shared it; you still were mates. The only difference was that, while you proudly loved him and adored each part of his body and soul, he had rejected your smell on him, your imprint on his own.

An invisible hand cut off your air supply and your breath hitched. You covered your mouth with your hand and muffled the sob, but he felt the exact moment your heart broke. Even if he didn’t show it to the world, he could still feel you. Your feelings, your essence. His own eyes teared up and now he extended his hand forward.

A silent invitation, the same you had given him so many times when he was in need of comfort, of love.

But that time, you didn’t reach forward nor acknowledge the shadows that tried to pull you closer to him.

“Get out”

“Darling”

“Get out” you pointed a shaky finger towards the door.

“Y/N, please. It’s not what you’re thinking” he tried to explain, his voice broken by his sorrow. “I accepted the bond. I just – “

“Get the fuck out now!”

The bowl that you had been filling with lettuce, salmon and other vegetables flew from the desk to where he was standing. His shadows, by their own consciousness or his master’s, didn’t stop it as it crashed against his chest. It spilled all over his naked chest, and before he could clean it, there was another tray with grilled pork on your hand.

Azriel’s last look to you was of pure despair and sorrow. He winnowed away before the second tray could hit him, leaving you with his shadows already cleaning up the mess.

As soon as he was out of sight, you fell down to your knees and sobbed.

-

He didn’t have a plan, and when he winnowed away, the last thing on his mind was the sound of your heart breaking. There was no way he would go to his house and face his family, not when he wasn’t even sure what had happened in your apartment. Couldn’t start to comprehend the pain he had caused you and how much he hated himself for it.

So, without planning to, he ended up in the cabin.

The old wooden walls and ceiling greeted him, different from the ones he remembered from his past. Feyre had added drawings everywhere, there were clothes scattered around, and food that was still edible.

No matter how familiar the sight was, it offered him no comfort.

Azriel dragged his wings through the floor and sat on the couch. Propping his elbows on his knees, he hid his face as the first tear rolled down. Followed by many more.

He replayed your hurt voice once more, your face. It hadn’t been his intention to reject the bond, not really. But he hadn’t run away from it.

It took him two weeks of uncertainty to know that he hadn’t taken it the way you had. While you radiated with his scent, people didn’t ask him. He walked past Cassian during training and his friend just teased him for being disappeared for a month. Rhysand commented about having to report to him every now and then, and Amren didn’t even acknowledge his presence.

That was how he discovered that he had to accept his part of the mating process. He had to be proud, to want it, in order to complete it.

But you had been so happy, so full of joy and love, that Azriel had feared that telling you about it would make you sad. Eventually, he had learned how he should have done it – but at that moment, he didn’t know. Besides, he could still sneak whenever he wanted to without explanations. So he hadn’t said anything.

The first year rolled by, and he spent a good amount of days panicking about how to deal with the situation. The second year passed and you didn’t ask about it, neither did his family. By the fourth year, he had almost forgotten about it.

Azriel’s loud sob broke the silence of the cabin. His chest contracted and his body shock. It was different from any type of suffering, of pain, he had ever felt. He could still feel the echo of your own through the bond, could hear your cries in the distance.

In the lonely cabin, under the moon light, the shadowsinger sobbed and cried until his voice was raw. He was angry at himself, at his past and his traumas, even angry at you. Because now that he knew what it felt to be complete, to be happy and safe in someone’s love, he couldn’t bear the thought of not having it.

His body gravitated to the side and he curled himself in a ball, still in his underwear. It reminded him of when he was a kid and would try to hide himself in the dark cell, cowering in his fear and desperation.

As if he was a kid all over again, Azriel let his wings cover his body and cried. Cried until he couldn’t remember his name, until he was begging the Cauldron to turn back time and let him accept the bond. Carry you on his arm around Velaris and don’t let the fear take control of his life.

He felt like punching a hole through the wall. Like flying thousand feet up and letting go in free fall. Maybe get into a bar fight and let everything out. But his body was anchored to that couch, to that pain. Azriel pressed his closed fists into his chest, trying to relief some of the pressure.

While he wondered if that was what having his heart ripped from his chest fell, he forgot to keep his mental shields up.

Letting Rhysand in.

-

The house of wind had been chaos for a few hours.

Rhysand had tried to manage the situation by himself, wide awake in bed while processing Feyre’s words. He willed himself to sleep, to rest and leave the pondering for the morning. But when he tried to close his eyes, he could see Azriel covered in blood and killing an entire camp because an illegal wing clipping. He could notice the faint, new smell in the house that he hadn’t noticed.

If he had his eyes open, he couldn’t help but look at Nyx’s new toy.

So, Rhysand had woken up Cassian, after Azriel hadn’t answered his notes. And Cassian had been mad. Angry, furious, raging. The general had talked nonsense about berries for a while and then he begged Rhysand to wake up Feyre and find Azriel to interrogate them.

And, who was the high lord to deny a late-night gossiping session?

Feyre had been mad but she had told them that Azriel had a mate that worked in front of her art studio, in a bakery. That you were nice and cheerful, that you had been mated for six years.

That was when Cassian lost it and woke up the whole house.

Now, all the members of the inner circle had gathered in the council room with their pajamas on.

“Maybe it’s not true. Feyre, you might have had imagined it”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Feyre raised her eyebrows at Cassian.

“I’m just saying he would have told me! We’re brothers. And we don’t keep secrets in this house. Never.”

“You don’t keep secrets” Amren cut him off, not looking at him. “Your bean brain is too simple to keep any type of secrets from us, but that doesn’t mean all of us are exhibitionist”

“I’m not – “

“You are an exhibitionist. You announce everything, Cas. Even a fart” Mor corrected him before he could defend himself.

“Sorry for being kind enough to not keep secrets from my family” he frowned, turning to look at Rhys. “You keep secrets from me?”

“I don’t keep secrets from you” Rhys assured him, half a smile.

“He threw the sword you gifted Nyx for his birth and told you Bryaxis took it so you wouldn’t look for it”

Feyre looked at her mate with a raised eyebrow, daring him to say anything else. With a wide-awake Nyx in her arms, she looked at threatening as the Hybern army. She had yet to talk to him privately, but Rhysand knew he was up for a long talk. So he bit his lip and turned to Cassian. Who, of course, looked completely broken and defeated.

The rest of the group was silent, barely keeping their smiles to themselves. Even Nesta, who had a hand on his shoulder, was looking at Feyre with approval. Cassian stared at Rhysand for a long second before he talked.

“It was a nice sword”

“For a teenager, maybe. For a baby, not” Feyre answered again. “Weren’t you just talking about Azriel’s betrayal and secrets?”

“I, for one, knew he was hiding something” Amren commented for the third time. “Just saying I noticed. And you didn’t”

“Not all of us are creeps that stare and don’t talk. We have social lives to take care of” Mor said.

“Some of you do talk. Maybe too much”

Rhysand tuned out Amren and Mor argument when he felt a crack through Azriel’s mental barriers. He had been tugging at them softly to know where his brother was. Feyre had talked him out of the idea of barging in uninvited and demanding answers – at least, he had talked Amren and Mor out of it. Rhysand and Cassian were still unconvinced.

That was why he had kept a talon poking at his mental barriers since the argument started, thinking it wouldn’t be successful.

But then, Azriel opened it unconsciously and Rhysand brought a hand up to his chest.

Everyone fell quiet as the high lord scrunched his eyebrows and pressed his lips together, not ready for the wave of emotions and pain Azriel was feeling at the moment.

Feyre’s hand was instantly on him, Nyx looking up to his father with a pout that would surely turn into a crying session soon. Before the baby could start crying or any of his friends could ask him about it, Rhysand accepted Feyre’s help and got up from his chair.

“He’s at the cabin” he announced, already summoning his darkness to swallow Cassian and him there. “We’ll keep you updated”

Nyx’s loud cry was the last thing they heard as they winnowed away. And the first one they heard from the cabin, was Azriel’s broken one.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

Right around the corner taglist:

@lesliemurillo @impossibelle @polli05927 @florencemtrash @going-through-shit @minakay @setayeshmohseni @torchbearerkyle @esposadomd @amysangel @kennedy-brooke @originalcrusadetrash @luvmoo @historygeekqueen @marriedtolike18fictionalmen @wallacewillow0773638 @tothestarsandwhateverend @kristalhi @knmendiola @nikt-wazny-y

[falling-star-cygnus]

If you're still doing character analysis could you do Dan Feng? You can see his character design in art or in the HSR animated short Ichor of Two Dragon's

yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes YES -> literally will drop whatever i'm doing whenever i'm doing it to do these, i LOVE character analysis. for literally any character i will do this

things i've noticed about HSR characters bc the lovely messenger-of-stars fueled my frenzy

part five: Mr. Force Fed his Boyfriend Immortality ✨Dan Feng✨

who's next? :D i'm assuming you didn't mean the playable Imbibitor Lunae based on your wording, but if i'm wrong just let me know and i'll redo it

first of all, lighting really does wonders for this man bc how is this the same character- second, he's semi-bioluminescent. In the darker parts of Ichor of Two Dragons: -> the tips of his ears, his eyes, his horns [which you can see take on that glassy quality in the first two pictures, probably bc he feels at ease or in control as opposed to the final picture- where he's losing] and the ends of his limbs take on a glowy, transparent quality that disappears when the lighting shifts

In his first attack, Dan Feng summons 10 swords. In Chinese culture, these 10 swords are symbols of righteousness and ideals to follow- which explains why he uses them to execute Dan Heng [or- tries to] -> his blasts are also lotus shaped, which are symbols of purity and rebirth.

Lotus are called symbols of purity in Chinese cultures because they bloom from mud. If we look at the water that Dan Feng summons, we can it starts off a murky, swampy green and turns into a nice clean blue when Dan Heng finally claims his life as his own

Dan Heng's Imbibitor Lunae form bares a closer resemblance to the dragon than Dan Feng does [i.e.: the red eyeliner, the golden liquid- or ichor- that formed his horns, the eyes] -> this could mean nothing, but it could also mean that Dan Heng has truly taken control now [also look how cute those little gold rings are, Dan Feng doesn't have those]

motherfucker's flabbers are GASTED. this is why Jingliu beat your ass

the entire time he fights Dan Heng, the birds on his sleeves are gone. You could probably chalk this up to the animators not wanting to draw them, which is completely fair, but i'm pretty sure they're depictions of water fowl -> my best guess would be Dalmatian Pelicans, which are symbols of self-sacrifice or introspection. Considering this was battle about Dan Heng freeing himself from Dan Feng, it's pretty fitting.

Also at the very end of the video, it's only after Dan Feng has faded into golden light that pelicans start to appear in the sky -> there's a story about these birds actually; the parent flew into fit of rage and killed her young, but three days later she drove her beak into her side and spilled her blood to bring it back to life

HC for the Road: Dan Heng is incapable of asking or seeking out physical affection. He still wants it though -> [Welt and March are sitting on one of the couches, with the girl on his left side leaning on his shoulder as he reads a story. Dan Heng sits about a half foot away as he listens] Dan Heng: *unconsciously shifting just slightly closer to hear better* Welt: *intentionally lowering his voice until the Vidyadharan is in more or less the same position as March*

-> [Stelle and Caelus stare Dan Heng down as they trade whispers] Dan Heng, pausing in putting away a book: I can hear you two scheming... Caelus: Scheming!? How dare thee- Dan Heng: Thou. Caelus: How dare thou question my good morals! I was- [He aggressively elbows his sister] Caelus: -comforting Stelle! [Stelle bursts into tears on cue] Dan Heng, immediately startled: Uh- Stelle!? What's wrong..? [The girl blubbers incomprehensively as she bullies her way into his outstretched arms] Dan Heng, awkwardly patting her back: Who do I- [Caelus hugs Dan Heng from behind to derail that thought- creating a Vidyadharan sandwich] Dan Heng: Caelus- Caelus: Sh sh sh, it's group hug time. I felt left out! Dan Heng: ....sure, you did..

[heartfullofleeches]

RoadSide

Immortal Yan + G.N Reader Blurb/Intro

Summary: A car accident leads to a bigger crash

Warning: Violence/injury, light gore

Bile sits in your throat, held back by the seatbelt pinning you to your seat.

Your body is heavy- the leather digging into your skin adding weight to your imbalanced skull. Your windshield is cracked, the white fractures and spray of blood making it hard to see from it while the blinking headlights make up for the range you couldn't see. What you refused to see.

A body lays ten feet away from your car. Motionless and surrounded by a halo of red that trickles back to the hood. The collected mass of blood and saliva in your mouth pours free as the body twitches. This.. wasn't how tonight was supposed to go. You were heading home from work when it happened. Same road, same speed - only one difference. He came out of nowhere. You saw it. The pressure behind your eyes disfigured your judgment, but you swore as your car came into contact with his fragile body - fear was the last thing present in his eyes.

Air rushes into your withered lungs as you unhook your seatbelt and crawl out of the car. You had to make sure he was okay. Everything burned, but you were far better off than him. You sure the front of your car as a crutch as you round to the front, smearing his cold blood all over your hand. You shutter as it stains your clothes, but you don't have the pleasure of expressing your fear. Choking back a sob, you drag yourself over to his side.

Blood bloomed from the left side of his shirt where he was hit, blossoming beneath the tire marks decaled on his white tee like some twisted joke. The cruel irony makes you gag. His leg was bent at an odd angle and face obscured by his fair, holes thorn through body and clothes from being used like a skipping stone by his chair. One hand hides within his jacket while the other clutches his phone. It's surprisingly not damaged. Taking a closer look at his opposite arm you can see what looks like a plastic bag filled with cushion.

"s....."

You thought you were hearing things, but his lips slowly form the words his broken jaw struggle to expel. His body trembles, knuckles rapping the road to gain your attention. You lean in.

"le...."

He coughs up a sea of red, exposed ribs heaving.

"I can't hear you..."

You lean in close.

"Smile wide."

In range, the thought to be corpse lunges out and drags you to the floor as he sits up. Too weak to struggle despite the drastic degrees of your injuries, you claw at his arm as he wraps it around your neck. The smily muscle of his torn cheek glides up against your tear riddled face as he pulls you in. A blinding light assaults your weary eyes as he presses the red button on the screen. You scramble as soon as he let's go.

"Shiiit. That's fucking hot, babes. You look so fucking good covered in my blood and it looks like my eye's about to pop right out! I was getting cloder feet because I thought you weren't going to come by tonight. Unfortunately, this lazy bitch has to go back in if I'm not sleeping in a ditch tonight."

You look away as he jams his finger in his eyes, grunting as he forces it into the socket. "What's... going on. With those injuries you should be able to move like that. Is this some kind of sick prank?"

"'fraid not, sweetheart. My guts are absolutely soup right now. Name's Devlin. Your new boyfriend, husband, bitch, pet - whatever you want to call me. Doesn't really matter, since we're gonna be together for the rest of our lives... unless you want these pictures to get out."

He scrolls through the many pictures taken of the accident. Your bloody car and license plate, his mangled limbs, a picture of him holding a thumb up, and the final one taken minutes ago.

"Obviously a few of those are between us, but if you reject me I can change face and send these photos in. Things would look mighty suspicious with no body - right?"

"I.... I guess."

"Good." He sighs, a fresh growth of blood developing over his shirt. "I knew you were the one when you ran me over the first time. Not a brick in the road now, am I? Anywho, your car still work? We can get it to a mechanic and then we can go have some fun... or head home. Not like we'll ever be apart again so I don't have any preference."

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Before You Go

Warning: Sad, very angsty. Past Stommy.

Steve's bottom lip quivered as he started to pull out the box that he had stuffed in his closet a couple of years ago. He hadn't thought about it until now. He tore off the lid and started pulling things out. The first thing he pulled out were drawings he and Tommy had done when they were kids. There was a dragon and a figure that didn't really look like Tommy, but it was Tommy who stood in front of the dragon with a flaming sword. Steve stood behind him with his own sword.

"I'll always protect you, Stevie-boy," Tommy had said.

"Even in your own messed up way, you always kept trying," Steve said and cried. "I'm sorry, Tommy, I'm so sorry."

He pulled out a picture of him and Tommy that Tommy's mom had taken of them. Branches held out like swords and masks over their faces like they were pirates. They were supposed to be fighting each other but they couldn't stop giggling. Steve clutched the picture frame to his chest as he bent over, sobbing. He straightened up and held the container closer as he pulled out more stuff. There were clothes in here that Tommy had left behind. He held one of his shirts to his face and he could almost imagine that it still smelled like Tommy. He pulled out the bear that Tommy had won for him at a fair. The bear that he had named after Tommy. Steve held Thomas to his chest and took a drink from the bottle he had dragged up here with him. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening startled him.

"Steve! We're here to party! Well, not party because you know how I feel about parties but we're here to fuck shit up!" Eddie exclaimed.

"Eloquent as always, Munson," Robin told him. "We're just here to watch movies."

Steve cursed. He had forgotten that they had agreed to hang out a few days ago. He stood up quickly and nearly fell over. Shit, maybe he had drunk more than he had thought. Still clutching his bear, he stumbled downstairs to find them lounging in the living room. He quickly wiped his face and grinned at them.

"HEY!" he said loudly.

"Are you drunk? What's with the bear, Steve?" Robin asked.

"What bear?" he asked.

"Well, that one that you're holding, man," Eddie said and Steve looked sadly down at the bear. "Jesus, man, who died?"

Steve burst into tears and collapsed on the floor, unable to hold it in. It wasn't real. This couldn't be real. Suddenly, Eddie and Robin were by his side.

"Who died, Steve?" Robin asked softly.

"Tommy," he whimpered. "Car accident. His mom called."

"Oh, Steve, I'm sorry. I know he was your friend," Robin said sympathetically.

"He wasn't always an asshole. He wasn't always so miserable. It was my fault. All my fault, I turned him into that. If I just kept it the way it was going, maybe it would have worked itself out. Maybe I wouldn't have gotten with Nancy and Barb wouldn't have died. . . all because I couldn't handle being the other man," Steve sniffled.

"What?!" Eddie and Robin exclaimed.

"I thought maybe Tommy was just the exception but that's not the case. I definitely like. . . like a lot of people. You would have liked Tommy before. . . before I broke his heart. We were in love, you know. I was in love with him. He was the first friend that I ever made, who approached me, and who wasn't intimated by my father. He liked me and it wasn't because of my dad. He wasn't using me like the other 'friends'. We were eight years old, and we were quick to become best friends. As time went by, things began to change. We were each other's first kiss, although we were said it was just for practice. Who were we kidding? When we got older, we started doing other things to help get each other off and everything we did, we did with our clothes on. Then the clothes came off and suddenly, we weren't just each other's first kiss," Steve said.

"You lost your virginities to each other?" Robin asked. "That's why you never say when it comes up."

"I didn't want to out Tommy. Although, I guess I'm outing him now. Suppose it doesn't really matter," Steve muttered. "We finally decided to stop fooling ourselves and we admitted to having sex with each other, that we were attracted to each other. We weren't ready for anything else yet, so we weren't exclusive. We were just best friends who fuck each other. So, we tried to see other people. I slept with other people, but it didn't seem like Tommy was having any luck until Carol came along. Carol became his girlfriend, and I hated her for it," Steve said.

"I thought Tommy and Carol were having sex since seventh grade," Eddie said and Robin nudged him.

"That's just a rumor. Carol didn't join our little group until high school," Steve rolled his eyes. "Anyway, I was jealous of her because I wanted to be her. I wanted to be Tommy's boyfriend. Tommy wanted to have his cake and eat it too. We were still sleeping with each other even then. . . "

Steve sighed as he collapsed back onto the bed as Tommy threw the sheets over them and pulled Steve into his arms. Steve sighed as Tommy ran his fingers down his back.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you," Tommy said.

Steve froze. This was the first time that they either one of them had said even when they were just friends.

"You love me?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"I love you too," Steve said.

He climbed top of Tommy, straddling his naked waist, and kissed him. He felt Tommy grin against his lips. Tommy flipped him over onto his back and deepened the kiss while thrusting his hips against Steve’s. He pulled back from Steve.

"Going for round two, huh? I'm going to show you just how much I love you, Stevie-boy," Tommy said and kissed him.

This time, it was Steve who broke the kiss and gazed at him. He cupped Tommy's face and smiled when Tommy kissed his palm.

"Does this mean that I'm your boyfriend?" Steve asked.

"Hell yeah," Tommy smirked.

"Do you really want to show me how much you love me?" Steve asked, and Tommy nodded. "Break up with Carol."

Tommy froze for a moment before scowling and moving away from Steve, climbing off of him.

"Why do you have to ruin things, man?" Tommy asked.

"Ruin things? I'm asking you to break things off with Carol so we're not cheating!" Steve exclaimed.

"It's not cheating, man. What Carol and I have isn't real," Tommy said. "I don't like women like you like women."

"Well, does she know that?" Steve asked. "I mean, not about you liking men. You don't have to tell anyone that if you're not ready. Does she know that you don't have feelings for her?"

"Man, why do you care about what Carol thinks? I thought you hated her," Tommy said.

"I do, but that doesn't mean that she deserves to be used!" Steve yelled.

Tommy scowled at him and got up, pulling on his boxers. Steve did the same.

"I'm not - that's not what I'm doing!" Tommy yelled.

"Oh yeah! What are you thinking about when you fuck her?" Steve asked.

"You, it's always you!" Tommy asked.

"Don't you think Carol deserves someone to think about her while they fuck her? While they hold her and kiss her? Carol deserves better than to be cheated on, and despite the fact that you don't have feelings for her, it's still cheating!" Steve yelled.

"You know I can't let my dad find out about us! About me!" Tommy exclaimed.

"I know that! It doesn't mean that you still can't hide. You don't have to tell anyone if you don't want to, but you're using Carol to keep your secret, and she doesn't know. You're wasting her time. She deserves better than this. I stopped sleeping with other people when I realized that I had feelings for you," Steve said. "Why can't you do the same?"

"It's not real," Tommy muttered.

"Then this isn't real either!" Steve yelled.

"You don't mean that!" Tommy said.

"This is killing me, Tommy. I've watched my dad cheat on my mom time and time again. I saw how much it hurt her. I can't risk doing that with Carol," Steve muttered.

"I don't want to hurt you," Tommy frowned.

"Then break up with Carol," Steve said.

"I can't," Tommy said.

"Then I guess I have to do the right thing here. I'm breaking up with you, Tommy," Steve said.

"Steve. . .I don't want to lose you," Tommy said, his eyes filled with tears.

"We can still be friends," Steve said, and Tommy looked like he had been slapped.

Tommy glared at him before getting dressed and storming out of the house. The slamming of the doors caused Steve to flinch.

". . .and after that, it was different between us. He was different. . .angrier. And then Nancy came into my life, and I fell hard for her. Suddenly, Tommy didn't fit into my life anymore, and it was Tommy who was hating Nancy. It was me who had to walk away from Tommy. I never got to fix things with him, and I thought about it, but it's never going to happen. Not that I wanted to get back together with him. I wanted my best friend back. The one I used to create forts with in the living room and tell everything to. I wanted him to know you, Robin, and to know Eddie. . . To know the kids. I wanted him to know that even though it didn't work out with him, I wanted the old Tommy back in my life. I want to tell him about this guy I like. I can't do it, I can't fix it," Steve sobbed.

"Oh, Steve," Robin said with tears in her eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't tell you, Robbie," Steve sighed. "He got me this bear, you know. At a fair. I named him Thomas."

"It's okay, I get it," Robin said, running her hand through his hair.

"Steve, I think you might need some water. I'll go get you some," Eddie said.

Suddenly, Steve yelled and threw himself into Eddie's arms.

"Please don't go," Steve said.

"I'll get the water," Robin said. "You get our Steve to the couch."

Eddie ran his hand through Steve’s hair for a moment before picking him up in his arms.

"Oooh, strong and pretty," Steve giggled and poked his nose.

"Yeah, you're definitely drunk," Eddie smiled.

He carried Steve to the couch and put him on the couch, but it was hard to do with the way Steve was clinging to him. Eddie sighed before sitting down on the couch with Steve in his arms. Steve burried his face into Eddie's chest as Eddie rubbed his back.

"I'm sorry about Hagan, sweetheart," Eddie said. "I can't imagine how hard this must be."

"It's so. . .so hard. Sometimes, I can still see him. . .like he's burned into my retinas. . . and I can still see him walking around here," Steve said, his voice cracking. "I'm crazy."

"You're grieving," Eddie said softly.

Robin came back with a bottle of water and handed it to Steve. He handed the bear to Robin as she sat down. Steve sat up in Eddie's lab and started drinking the water.

"Robin? We're always going to be best friends, right?" Steve asked.

"We're more than best friends, dingus," she said affectionately. "We're platonic soulmates, and there's nothing on earth that can break that."

Steve downed the whole bottle of water before tossing it onto the coffee table. He wrapped his arms around Eddie's neck.

"Eddie. . .do you promise to always be a part of my life no matter what?" Steve asked as he raised his pinky to him. "Pinky promise?"

Eddie grinned. Keeping one hand on Steve’s lower back, he raised his other hand and hooked his pinky with Steve’s.

"I promise, darlin," Eddie said.

Steve leaned down and kissed his own hand, his pinky locked with his. Eddie smiled softly and kissed his own hand as well. Steve let go, giggling.

"The guy I was talking about was you," Steve said. "I like you."

"I like you too," Eddie replied.

"Do you - do you think that we can wait until I'm a little more sober to have our first kiss?" Steve asked.

"I think that's a good idea, sweetheart," Eddie said.

Steve sighed and leaned his forehead against Eddie's.

"I don't think I can get through this without you guys," Steve sighed.

Robin got on her knees and leaned over to hug them both.

"We're here, Steve," Robin said and squeezed him tightly as he started crying again.

Eight year old Steve sighed as he kicked his feet in the water of his pool as Tommy sat beside him.

"Tommy?"

"Yeah?"

"We've been hanging out a lot. Does this mean we're best friends now?" Steve asked.

"Heck yeah!"

"How long do you want to be my best friend for?" Steve asked.

"Forever, Stevie-boy, forever."

[arenabreadandbiscuits]

Gosh I HATE X.

Rant below about small artists and not getting much of a chance to actually grow in social media.

Not only do they not tell me what the problem is when the report something so I can't fix it but I get on or try to get on and apparently I can't? My account was deleted? It won't log me in on my art one??? I'm annoyed by it.. I can only be glad I have a following here on Tumblr and Tumblr helps push certain things out compared to X.

I'm honestly mad because I was using X as another way to reach out to people who want commissions but also for fandom interactions. I'm also mad because like I've said for like the hundredth time, you can literally find people fcking on X and their videos and things get to stay up but I draw FanArt and write stories and MINE gets taken down??? Smh especially as someone doing commissions because my mom is in the hospital rn and I genuinely need the funds for a while..

I'm working on one commission right now. I'll take three right now for cheap prices because I understand people don't find value in art all the time but I'll have to bring prices up or either continuously work for the cheaper ones and save up.

Actually let me ask this now.

Some this picture contains four characters, a window with extra background, objects and background, and various expressions and poses. The time on it hit 13 hours on ibis. In my mind of course I want money to help my situations.

With this picture as an example I count people and characters as $10 each, little accessories and such are $1 each and there's at least 12 in here up front from the beer cans to the dresser. The picture took 13 hours so $40 × 13 equals $520. It took me at least a week to get this piece done. Considering the hospital issues, the at home issues, pet situations, food issues, and little transportation I have when I need something important done I think for pieces like this the price is fair.

Idk, people who commission others can you tell me what you think? I'm down to do cheap prices too it just depends of what's being asked like the current commission I'm doing which is this one:

Is $30 dollars for the commissioner considering they just want the lineart which I'm more than happy to do. If anyone knows any discord groups or websites that give artist commissions please let me know. I just can't believe X rn... Also matter of fact this was the wip I posted before my account was taken down... Doesn't like like anything against Twitter guidelines to me but fck us small artists that NEED exposure I guess.

How I'm pricing after finishing this commission and two others perhaps because I literally can't afford to not price it like I'm thinking of doing.

So:

$10 dollars per person/character

$1 for each background object/accessories - cups, glasses, trash cans, ash trays, etc etc

And after all that is set I'll multiply those numbers by the amount of hours I finish which is where the majority of the money goes and after that's it, I get paid and you get your piece. (Of course check ins are allowed and changes as long as changes art completely different from their original idea. I'm always okay drawing at least three sketches for customers to pick from if they don't like the first sketch.)

I've made a post already on my current visit at the hospital for my mom. She majorly deals with everything in the home so her being sick will mean we'll need extra funds. I don't work right now because I myself got sick last year with GBS and I'm still healing, not just that but there's only one car for the household which is my mom's so with everything happening I couldn't possibly get a job now. My grandma has dementia and there's three other people in the house though two of them hardly do much to keep bills paid. It's just a lot and really anything would help us right now. So to any commissioners if you are commissioning me whether it's little or big I very much appreciate you with all my heart.

And even if you can't commission reblogging and liking is just fine as well since it helps boost posts.

[deathbyoctopi]

Happy XueXiao Day!!!!

To celebrate I wrote a few minifics for a series of amazing manips from @wangxianswuji, who has my deepest love and admiration for the magic they do with these pictures.

Look at them!!

"Tell me... Is it beautiful?" "It's whatever I could manage. Just dyed your robes red. We're not swimming in gold here, if you hadn't noticed..." He rolled his eyes at the daoshi, who smiled expectantly. "Uh... It's ok, I guess. Bright red." "Beautiful."

There was just one prey the wolf had never managed to hunt. A graceful, incredibly fast creature, always lingering by the flower meadow. He could smell its perfume, had even seen it once. One day he'd get fast enough to catch it. And that day... he might decide not to eat it after all.

"Do you remember the day you found me?" I bet you touched all over me to find my wounds. Did you touch my scars, the ones Shuanghua gave years ago? Did you touch my face? My hand? "I do, my friend. Why do you ask?" "Nothing..." Could you pretend you don't care who I really am...?

"It's not fair," complained prince Xiao. "They're marrying me away, like I'm some horse on sale." Prince Xue shrugged, as he kept playing the flute. "Could be worse," he said when he finished his tune. "Huh? How?" "I don't know... Try having the one you love taken away from you before you could even tell them how you feel. Sucks, right?"

"Guess who!" "You know, you usually cover the eyes of the person you want to play this bullshit game with. The eyes. I know the concept might be alien to you, but try at least blocking my sight..." "Ah! But you haven't guessed yet!" "True. I give up. Who's there?

"Just hold on a bit longer..." It had been a nasty bitch, Xue Yang would give it that. Big fucking tiger yao, had gotten close enough to daozhang to slash his side. Xue Yang had killed it in a rage and then had rushed the two of them to a nearby spiritual spring, good for healing. "Here, feel the water? Let's go where it's deep, daozhang..." ...but why did he care so much if Xiao Xingchen lived or died?

"Stay still... I want to see you." Xue Yang gritted his teeth, but complied. He felt soft fingers touching his brow, his nose, his cheeks, his lips... That was it. No way he could keep fooling daozhang any longer after that. He tensed, expecting a fight. Instead, he got a smile. "Handsome..." whispered Xiao Xingchen, warmly. "Just as I remembered, A-Yang."

Thanks for reading! Go support the artist @wangxianswuji for their wonderful manips, and check my ao3 for more written xuexiao! ❤️

[snow-143]

Water Coloured Tears | Jeon Jungkook

seven- forgot you were insane (0.4k words)

It's Wednesday. Which means I have to see Jungkook. Outside of class. In a social setting. Alone.

It's safe to say I'm not looking forward to this. Part of me wants to cancel but the other part of me wants this process over and done with. The quicker we get all our pictures taken the quicker we can scrap the Wednesday meetings.

We decided on going to the fair. A lot of lights and activity to add depth to the images. I usually love going to the fair, despite my age, but this time i'm dreading the whole experience.

Yes, he’s been nicer than I expected, but I still feel like I’m walking on eggshells around him.

But I’m determined to have a good time.

We agreed to meet at the gates to the fair. I’m almost there when my phone goes off.

JUNGKOOK: I can’t make it today.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Me: Like hell you can’t. You better be here in the next 10 minutes or I will show up at your apartment and drag you here.

JUNGKOOK: First of all, you don’t know where I live. Secondly, I’m not there, anyway.

Me: You really think I can’t find that out? And you fucking went out when you knew we had plans? You told me you’d take this seriously Jungkook and I swear on my life if you aren’t going to, I will terrorise you.

JUNGKOOK: Sorry, forgot you were insane. Anyway, something came up.

Me: I don’t care what came up. This is important, and you promised me. I guess I should’ve learned not to trust your promises by now, though. Won’t make that mistake again.

JUNGKOOK: Are you really going to keep acting like this? I had something to do sorry that I didn’t consult you and you control issues beforehand.

Me: I’m so fucking done with your shit. Either get your priorities sorted or drop this course. I’m not failing because you would rather get drunk and fuck some random girl.

JUNGKOOK: I’m not at a party.

Me: Yeah, I’ll just take your word on that one.

JUNGKOOK: You know what you can think what you fucking like. There’s no point in even trying to talk to you.

Locking my phone, I swear at the sky, receiving a couple of concerned looks, and just when I think it can’t get any worse, it starts to rain. Great. Fucking excellent.

I pretty much sprint back home. I really hope Tae is here, I would die for a movie night right now. Plus I’m still yet to learn how his date went.

‘Tae?’ I receive nothing but silence in return.

I guess I’ll settle for a nap instead.

prev | m.list | next

////////////////

a/n: wow…

[blackjackkent]

Well, we were just about to get to the House of Healing and progress Halsin's quest when Shadowheart decided it was time to reopen her seminar on The Cult of Shar and How It Can Work For You.

This is the LAST thing Hector wants to do right now so Shadowheart is really lucky that he feels a sense of loyalty to her at this point.

And, of course, guess who's waiting along the path when we start walking up to what I assume is the Shar stronghold:

As if Hector's day couldn't get any more irritating.

[sigh] All right, Raphy, bring on the next round of snark.

"Our hero thought but of treasure ahead./Did not consider the peace of the dead..."

"Through the dark he went creeping/and awoke what was sleeping..."

"A new grave they dug, which he himself fed."

...Look, man, I'm just up here cos I want Shadowheart to feel like I listen to her. >:|

Karlach is also unimpressed:

"OooooOOOOoooo, spooooOOOOOky."

"A warning, no less," Hector deadpans warily, raising an eyebrow at the devil. "Don't tell me you're worried about me."

Raphael smirks. "Merely protecting my...assets," he says coolly. "I've grown quite fond of you, you know - in my way. I thought it only fair to warn you about the dangers ahead."

"What dangers are those?" Hector asks. Not that he believes Raphael will tell him anything helpful for anything but his own purposes, but perhaps they can nose out something useful.

"Oh," Raphael answers slyly. "We both know they are soon to be revealed." He shrugs, waves a hand dismissively. "It would be pointless of me to try to bar you from entering, but I can...set the scene, as it were. Prepare you for your role."

Why is everyone always so bloody cryptic? "Fine," Hector says through his teeth. "Paint me a picture."

Raphael strikes a pose, one hand lifting in a thespian attitude. "There is a stage down in the dark upon which a great drama has suspended itself in time," he intones dramatically. "Its actors dwell there still, mired in the languor of their long-tired scenes. If you, however, through the dark go creeping and awake what is sleeping...Chances are many more graves than yours alone will soon be fed."

More riddles. Hector lets out a long, deliberate breath, resisting the sudden, uncharacteristic urge to punch the man in the nose. [PERSUASION] "Paint me a *clearer* picture than that," he growls.

Raphael scoffs. "Very well." He folds his arms moodily. "There is a creature that lurks in silence and shadow - a creature who, like me, is very much of the infernal persuasion." He points behind him at the heavy stone door towards which the group had been progressing. "Should it make its way out through the very doors you are about to brazenly swing open, you'll have unleashed a pestilence on this realm. In truth, it is carnage incarnate. So if you meet the devil of which I speak, kill it. Consider no other course of action."

His voice has taken on an unusual note of ferocity, quite unlike the usual silky-smooth drawl. Even discussing this creature has shattered the devil's usual savoir-faire.

Hector presses this moment of vulnerability in the usually unreadable man. [INSIGHT] "You're still only telling me half of what you really know. I can tell."

Raphael scowls, his eyes flicking away from Hector's scrutiny. "This creature and I go back a long way," he mutters irritably. "I admit it would be in my best interest as well should it remain trapped in the dark, or misplace its head, perhaps."

"What are we talking here?" Karlach prods, clearly also tired of the vague, circular discussion. "Lemure? Pit fiend? Orthon?"

Raphael glances at her, shrugs laconically. "Getting warmer...warmer...hot."

An orthon, then. Hector sets this aside to address in a moment; something more interesting is happening in Raphael's expression, something he is almost certain of the meaning of.

"Are you *afraid* of this creature, Raphael?" he asks, unable to mask a note of amusement.

Anger flares across Raphael's face at once. "Listen here, *pipsqueak*," he snaps. "Do not underestimate this opponent. At best you will have the blink of an eye to strike. Strike first, strike true. Defy the odds, for they are distinctly in its favor. That much I owe the bastard to concede."

Then he has control of himself again, and steps back, his expression morphing into a slow grin. "After all, if there is one rule I hold dear, it's that one must always give the devil his due."

----

"Huh." Hector looks thoughtfully at the spot where Raphael stood for several moments after he has disappeared.

"Whattaya think, Soldier?" Karlach asks wryly. "We believe him?"

"Either he's telling the truth," Gale puts in, "in which case we're about to walk into a terrible situation, or he's really really lying, in which case we're walking into someone else's terrible situation. Either way, I think we owe it to ourselves not to leave this particular stone unturned."

"I don't know about that," Hector mutters. "I could do without visiting a Sharran temple with a devil in it if it's all the same to everyone else."

"Then stay behind," Shadowheart says curtly. "I will be going in, with or without you. But then I think you knew that already." She meets his eyes, silently daring him to object, to try to stop her.

Hector groans and rubs his fingertips against his temples. "And you, presumably, know none of us are going to let you do that alone," he says quietly.

She stiffens, looks away abruptly.

"Karlach, what can you tell us about...what was it? Orthons?" Hector asks, deliberately ignoring Shadowheart's reaction. "You know about them?"

Karlach perks up at once. "Oh! Yeah," she says excitedly. "Big bastards-- they use 'em as bounty hunters, bodyguards...all sorts of jobs in the Hells. Not bright, but who needs t' be when you've got tusks a foot long?" She clicks her tongue thoughtfully. "Wonder what Raphael did t' get mixed up with one 'a them. Or what it's doing down there." She jerks her head to indicate the entrance ahead.

Hector draws a long breath, lets it out, centering himself for a moment, trying to focus on the excitement in Karlach's voice, which always energizes him, and not the terrifying creature she's describing. "Right. Well. I suppose we'd better go find out then."

[gatalentan]

don’t think about little melissa schemmenti playing with the toy fire truck she got for christmas dreaming about being a firefighter like her uncle & going to the public library and trying with all her being to read all about firefighters just to have her dreams and hopes crushed

"Miss Schemmenti?" a voice like a mouse squeaked out from the doorway.

Melissa looked up from her grading, flipping her glasses back onto her head. Isaiah, one of her second graders, stood in her doorway, eyes big as moons, his little fingers gripping his backpack straps like a lifeline, a tiny ball of tension. Melissa felt her eyebrows knit in the middle.

"Hey Isaiah. C'mon in." She tilted her head towards the desks in front of her and he skulked in, shoulders wrapped around his ears. He plopped down on the nearest chair, bag hitting the ground with a thump. Melissa wheeled her chair over to him, sitting on it backwards. "You ok, kid?" She asked, voice as soft as she could make it, willing him to talk.

"Umm. It's." He looked down at the desk, at his hands, the floor. He nibbled at the end of his thumbnail, working the words out of his mouth. "Well, you know how my Dad's a pilot? And my Grandpa? And my Uncle David?"

"Uhuh. You drew that great picture." Melissa thumbed behind her at the project board where a drawing of Isaiah and his family in matching pilot hats flew across a green sky.

"Dad said I won't get to fly, 'cause-a my eyes." He told the table, mumbling into his shirt collar. "'cause-a the colours being mixed up. I'm." He swiped at his face, ducking it lower so she wouldn't see. "I'm sad, I guess. I dunno what to do."

Melissa's stomach dropped, felt her whole body droop with the sheer weight of how much she could relate, suddenly felt all of eight years old herself. Squeaky wheels on a cardboard firetruck screeching along the tiled floor of her Nonna's kitchen, water pistols firing at housefires drawn in crayon, scampering up trees with her little sister to save imaginary cats. She dug her nails into the knees, gathering herself with a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Isaiah." She handed him a tissue and he took it, but was too proud to use it. "You know, Miss Schemmenti didn't always wanna be a teacher. When I was your age, I really wanted to be a firefighter, just like my uncle."

He finally looked up at her, eyes even wider, somehow. "You did? But you're… Miss Schemmenti."

Melissa laughed low in her throat. "I am now. That's not what I planned. See, back then, they didn't let girls be firefighters. I even made 'em let me do the test-" (slipped her Uncle two month's allowance for it) "-but they rejected me."

She'd aced it too, had been doing strength and cardio training for years, so sure she could be the exception, the star in track at her high school. But her best just wasn't enough, and no amount of greased palms and yelling and tears and being deserving could change things, not back then. It had taken her a long time and a deferred year of college to figure out what she'd do with her life without this piece of her that had felt so inevitable and had now been ripped away.

"But that's not FAIR." He smacked the table with his fists, then flinched at his own outburst, retreating back into himself. "Oops. Sorry. 'bout the table. And uh, you. It's not fair."

Melissa bit her lip, smiling sadly at his compassion, remembering how the sadness, the weight of disappointment, had crushed her under its rubber boot for a long time. She hated that he felt even a fraction of it. "Yeah. It wasn't fair."

She sighed, leaning forward on the back of the chair to really look at the little boy in front of her, looking up at her like she knew the secrets to the universe and could somehow fix this for him with a magic wand. It struck her, then, just how many times she'd seen that same face mirrored at her time and time again, for decades, with different noses, different hair, different eyes, but still the same. And she still knew all their names, even now, could recall them just as easy as the coins jingling in her pocket, their hopeful faces just as bright and shiny and full of potential she so desperately wanted to help them achieve some small way.

"But you know what? If I hadn't been rejected, I wouldn't be here, right? I wouldn't have met you, or all the hundreds of other kids I've met since before you were even born. Sometimes we just end up on a different path than what we thought. I love being a teacher, turns out, and I'm pretty good at it, right?" He nodded. "And I never would-a found that out if I became a firefighter."

"I guess. I just..." He put his chin on his hands, deep in thought. "I don't know what to do now. I-" he audibly swallowed, voice wobbling "I wanted to make my Dad proud. I wanted to be like him. I don't wanna be different to everybody else."

Ouch.

"I know he's already so proud of you, kid. And so am I. We've all got something that makes us a little different. Me? My eyes aren't so good either, see?" She flipped her glasses back onto her nose to punctuate her point, jiggling them up and down by the arms to make him crack a smile. "You see things in a different colour. But that's not the only thing you are. You're smart, and you're funny, and I know you got lots of friends, 'cause I've seen you guys in detention often enough." She pulled a mock stern face, and his reluctant smile peeled open a little wider. "You'll figure it out. You don't gotta know right now, you're still young, just focus on being the best you you can be, and everything will work itself out in the end."

"But my Dad-"

"Your Dad will love you no matter what you become." And she knew he would, too, had seen his big puffed out chest at the open house, how his Dad's smile had spread wide with the same gap as Isaiah had when she'd told him about how he was top of her class.

Isaiah let out a huge breath, somehow sounding bigger than his four foot frame could have possibly contained.

"You promise?"

"'Course I do." She stook out her pinkie, and he took it, both giggling. A grown ass fifty-whatever year old, giggling. Kids, man. "You feelin' any better?"

"Yeah. I think so. Maybe."

"Good." She leaned back in her chair, had an idea. "Hey, wanna know a secret?" She whispered conspiratorially, peering around like there might be a spy hidden in any corner.

"Duh!"

Melissa wheeled back her chair and ferreted around in the top drawer of her desk, pulling out a bag of leftover Halloween candy. She plonked it on the table in front of him, taking a Twix for herself. "I got contraband. Don't tell Mrs. Howard. If I cover my eyes and two pieces of candy and my best Math student aren't here when I open them, then that's none of my business."

His face lit up like the Fourth of July, and Melissa dutifully covered her eyes with her palm. The sound of rustling plastic packages, of a backpack being snatched, and sneakers hastily squeaking on the sticky floor followed, then stopped dead.

"Thanks Miss Schemmenti."

She peeped out from between her fingers, seeing him smiling back at her from the doorway, tension lifted from his little body. Before she could respond, he scampered off.

Yeah, she'd ended up where she was meant to be, even if it wasn't what she'd planned.

[dovesndecay]

As you said you're open to questions, and I've never seen a "needs space" leash before - is there like, an accepted universal response/behaviour around a dog with such a thing? Like, I know not to bother service dogs, and to respect a therapy dog needing personal space after they're done providing therapy, that sort of thing, and in like, a big park I'd just keep going on my path/sitting where I am/whatevs and trust them and their human to handle the situation as they see fit, because there is the space for them to do so, but what if, say, one is coming towards me on the sidewalk, and thus the space is limited? Should I still continue as normal, or try to provide more space on purpose, maybe by walking closer to the side the dog isn't so their human can be a barrier?

I love my boy, so I'm going to intersperse some of my favorite pictures of him throughout this.

The day he came home vs a year later.

So, Aengus is fear reactive and incredibly anxious around people and animals he doesn't know -- sort of an automatic "I think these people are a danger to me and my human" thought process that means he does great big boofs, and sometimes will lunge at anyone who gets too close.

He was, unfortunately, already traumatized by the time he came to me -- he'd been anemic, stung by wasps, his poor little paws were rubbed raw from walking on hot concrete, and he was terrified of people.

"Too close," for him, generally means within 10 feet, for people he doesn't know well.

I can usually keep him focused on our walks or a specific task ("sit" and "wait" are both ones he's gotten pretty good at) when just passing by people, provided that they ignore us (unless they also have a dog, and then it's, "okay, time to detour to get home faster and without an interaction").

In an ideal world, I would have the money to get him the behavioral training I know he needs, and the supervised socialization time with other dogs I wish he had. I want it for him so much, but... yeah. I lack the money for someone who knows what they're doing, and I'm too disabled to try and DIY it on a consistent enough basis to be beneficial to him. So we muddle through as best we can.

He's my baby, and I love him so so much

When I take him out, the ideal behavior from people in the distance who see the "Needs Space" tag on his leash is that they will simply ignore us. Feel free to privately coo over how adorable he is, and even a friendly wave is fine from a distance. I love seeing people see him and have the "!!!!! I saw a dog!!!!" moment. It makes me very happy!!!

But, in the situation of crossing paths, yes, making it so that the owner is between you and the dog is the best choice. Personally, as the person responsible for my dog, I will usually do that immediately when I see someone coming our direction, and keep the leash tight and him close to me for both their safety and his. But sometimes folks will just see DOG and their self-preservation instinct shuts down with a quickness.

I can't tell you the number of times I've had children old enough to have been taught better just run up to us, completely unbothered by the fact that he is trying to protect me with his big ol' boofs of "get the fuck away" because Oh Cute Dog Trumps Animal Safety. I have to be like, "He's not friendly, sorry sorry sorry" and cut short our morning walks a million times. Which isn't fair to either of us.

he loves rough-housing so much and he makes the best honking sounds

The handful of times I've taken him to one of the local walking paths, I have him sit on the side of the trail, holding him tight in a sit+wait, and having him wait until the other person has passed us. Sometimes, he's very good and not at all interested in the other person. Sometimes, it's more of a fight to keep him distracted.

So, I guess my overall advice is:

"Be aware of the potentially dangerous animal in your immediate vicinity, maintain reasonable and available distance, and take your cues from the owner. Prioritize your own safety, and that of the animal."

Something I wish more people used to inform their behavior around strange dogs -- but admittedly, my dog in particular, is that if someone (or more likely, in my neighborhood, their unleashed and uncontrolled dog 😡) just runs up on Aengus, and he freaks out and bites them, he's the one that dies.

I ask him, "Where's your baby?" and he brings me his lamb-chop. (This toy has since disintegrated, and I haven't been able to replace it, unfortunately.)

So thank you so, so much for asking about this.

Don't get me wrong -- I don't want people to be afraid of my dog; he's a big ol doofus that trips over his own very long legs and sleeps with stuffies.

He learned how to throw his toys at me, and now he refuses to hand them to me when we play fetch -- he just lobs them at me from his mouth. He pounces on his toys like an arctic fox jumps into snow, and sometimes he sleeps like an AT-AT.

See?

But every dog has the capacity to be dangerous, and I wish people would spend more time asking these questions so I can give them the answers that keep them and reactive dogs safe.

[mysticsparklewings]

Obscutober 2024 Day 16: Escutcheon 🛡️

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Escutcheon (n.)

a shield or shield-like surface on which a coat of arms is depicted

an ornamental or protective plate around a keyhole, door handle, drawer pull, light switch, etc.

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We are officially halfway through October/Inktober! 🎉 

You could say I went with something more on the simple side to “celebrate,” but it was mostly just a coincidence. 😅 I am still happy with it, though! 👍

Click the "Keep Reading" and we'll talk a little more about my thoughts/process. ✨

⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

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Once again for catharsis: We are officially halfway through the month, Sparklers! 🥳

...And you'd think that to celebrate, I'd actually be able to get today's piece posted earlier, but nope! And it really is no one else's fault but my own this time—I had this one already 90% finished, but I let myself get distracted by some other things I know really could've waited until after this was taken care of. 😅 I accept my fate!

But it is what it is; At least I don't think the art itself suffered as a result.

This one felt relatively easy since, as might be overly obvious, it put very specific images in my head—Much of which I thought translated well enough into a mandala design. Namely, I kept picturing a keyhole plate that was etched gold, and I went with a very basic, "classic" shield shape because the definition literally says "shield" and I associate coats-of-arms images with a pretty shield-like shape as it is. And I also associate coats-of-arms strongly with royalty, so that's where the crown shapes came from.

Once I had those shapes in place as a foundation, it felt fair to just kind of fill in with more general mandala motifs that, at least to me, feel reasonably adjacent to some detail work you might see in these kids of decorative plates...However, I will admit I didn't actually bother looking up references for this one, so if you're personally more familiar with "Escutcheons" and some of the motifs I picked look terribly out of place...Well, here's my excuses and an apology, I guess. 😆

The colors were also very straightforward. I went with silver and goal for the metal base, then offset them with some abstract shadows. I added the spots of red, blue, purple, and green as a last-minute pop; The whole package was missing something, and I each of these colors in jewel tones I again associate pretty strong with royalty, plus I think they're fairly common inclusions in colored coats-of-arms designs.

My one regret in the design is that the white lines + browns in the background make me think an awful lot of a Gingerbread house, but when I tried switching the lines to black, everything just felt horribly flat.

At that point I really did not feel like going back over the background colors to try and "fix" the black lines when the white ones were fine outside of the Gingerbread thing (and this was after I got distracted, so I was running short on time, too)...So white lines it is! Who says you can't make a Gingerbread house that looks more like a castle for Gingerbread Royalty, anyway? I'm sure someone out there has done it! 😉

...You'd think I'd have more to say than that, but...Well, this one was pretty simple, especially compared to all everything I tried to squeeze into yesterday's. I know I said once before these can't all be super complex, and that holds true for today.

Oh! I should mention: This is yet again one word where I left off part of the definition that I included on the "official" list because it both took up a lot of space and also didn't really fit with the direction I took the art in. Escutcheon, in nautical use, can also mean, "A panel on the stern of a vessel bearing its name and port of registry."

And one final note you Sparklers might find amusing: This is probably the word I'm the most glad I don't have to pronounce out loud for this challenge. 🤭 I've had trouble enough remembering how spell it!

...That should be everything for today, I think. Now let me get to cross-posting before it gets any later...or before I get distracted by something else that could really stand to wait. 😆

See you tomorrow, Sparklers. 🤗

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See the Prompt List

Artwork © me, MysticSparklewings

Obscutober Concept Inspired by nikolas_tower

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⭐️ Like My Art and Want to see more of it? Here's All My Links! ⭐️

[anonymous-dentist]

In my head, Roier never actually gave birth and instead it's another one of his fantasies. It helps reinforce how unstable, sad and yearning for love he actually is; my poor baby :(

But I see you've taken a different route, I guess.

I just love the idea of Roier being so clueless about love in general, so lost in his mind that his thoughts blur with reality to create his own;

Just Cell and him lying side by side, Cell caressing gently along his body.

Roier "Ah, sorry about these marks, I know they're ugly"

Cell stops. "What marks?"

I'm just sharing my headcanon with the world because I love but you can totally ignore this ask if you want, no hard feelings!

Peace and Love and Murder ✌

(Another note: I also hc that Natalan is, in fact, fucking terrified and horrified by Roier deep down. Poor dude, at least Cell is here to be a new object of obsession!)

(You accidentally sent this twice, so I'll just answer this one! :D)

Now, to be fair, I haven't actually seen Chafaland. Because I don't speak Spanish. But I have read a recap thread, and idk much about Chafaland lore, but I do know a Little Creature when I see one:

So this is the canon I'm going with for Bad Romance. He had a kid, and you can guess what that implies for his character pretty easily. (🏳️‍⚧️)

To me, the Sally that he ended up imagining was Sally 2. He also fully believes that he's going to open his eyes one day and find Sally Harold back in his arms. Once upon a time, he also imagined Natalan being there with him. Now, he pictures someone else in bed next to him cooing at their baby, and he's definitely over Natalan.

Definitely.

This is just what I'm working with though! I haven't seen the actual series, so who knows? This is what I've got, but your headcanon is obviously chill, too.

I do personally agree with Natalan being fucking terrified of Roier, though. Watching through clips, he did everything he could to keep Roier away from him, but nothing seemed to work. Luckily for him, Roier is definitely over him now that he has Cell, who really doesn't understand what he's gotten into. He sealed his fate the second he told Roier in that meeting room that he would get married if he ever left Alcatraz. Now he's going to get married whether he likes it or not.

(Because, contrary to a lot of people's opinions, Cell is not the only one manipulating someone in this relationship. Roier knows what he wants, and he is going to get him, goddamnit!)

[bbygirl-aemond]

bbygirl-aemond, I have thoughts, I will reread chapter 32, but I do have thoughts if you dont mind me asking them. I think initially, my question is, how do you balance the role of Valyria historically with the nature of their colonialism? Only because it seems like the picture presented is that ultimately Valyrianness is a good thing? It seemed like despite the Firstmen not wanting Valyrian conquerors who desecrated their land with fire, Harrenhal did? And that seems off to me? I mean if your pro-valyrian then totally disregard this but I had got the impression that you were rather critical of them but maybe I was conflating your critique of Viserys with your critique of Valyria and the Valyrian Freehold? Also, side note I very much enjoyed the complex relationship everyone had with Viserys and how it wasn't reconciled and that Helaena stood her ground. Your interpretation of her is my absolute favourite because she is a fully fleshed woman with her own motivations, and her distance from Rhaenyra is that wonderful icing on the cake. Coming from someone who doesn't like my own half-sister, it's very understandable Helaenas weariness but also her stubbornness not to forget what Rhaenyra put her and her brothers through. It's just chefs' kiss.

No that's a fair question! Ultimately, I think my answer is that my opinion on morality of canon is separate from what I choose to play around with for fun. For example, I don't think we're meant to read ASoIaF and come away like "yes monarchy is good actually." I'm very anti-monarchist in my everyday life, but it's tons of fun to lean into the grand imagery related to monarchy and divine right in a fantasy world. This applies to the themes of colonialism and feudalism as well.

Stormbreak is, fundamentally, a Targaryen Restoration fic, so it's not going to be doing any heavy lifting related to concepts of monarchy, feudalism, and colonialism. I do address parts of these themes, but not in full, and it shouldn't be taken as a perfect mirror of my own views outside of the Stormbreak sandbox.

As for Harrenhal--I think there isn't necessarily a moral endorsement of the Valyrian magic there. Just because something exists doesn't mean that it's good that it exists, but it is a reality. Jace's Valyrian-ness is useful in its ability to protect the members of House Strong from a curse that would otherwise kill them off. Jace's arc here also isn't finished, and we haven't seen the final form of the agreement(s) he'll have with the land he rules. This is because the First Men are, you guessed it, also originally colonizers! They invaded Westeros, slaughtered the children of the forest in spades, and destroyed their sacred spaces. They were eventually forced to stop and coexist, but only after a massive display of force (the children of the forest literally broke Westeros and Essos into two separate continents), so it wasn't out of realization that their colonizing was wrong, and they still successfully stole most of Westeros from the children of the forest, relegating them to small patches of land here and there where Weirwood trees grew. I can't spoil too much here, but let's just say the Valyrians weren't the first ones to think of imbuing the land with spells to drive out the First Men… and that Stormbreak will ultimately treat the children of the forest as the only true natives of Westeros.

I'm glad that Helaena's characterization has resonated with you! She's been so fun to write. In general, I've had so much fun with the female characters in this fic, particularly ones like Helaena, Baela, and Alys whose personalities were kind of neglected in the book and/or the show. I also have this pet peeve around the idea that women inherently always have to like each other because of girlboss solidarity, so I deliberately called attention to Rhaenyra's mistake in thinking that Helaena would side with her because they were both women. Helaena isn't necessarily always going to agree with Rhaenyra on things, which is understandable. They had vastly different upbringings, and Helaena's experience with dreaming gives her an entirely unique perspective. In this chapter, Helaena doesn't try to stop Aemond and Aegon, because she agrees with them! Regardless of how much fear she personally felt (since I think her dreams provide a lot of reassurance to her that others aren't able to access), she still spent her entire life surrounded by her family, who were very much impacted by that fear.

[justrambles]

(Beauty and the beast steddie)

No.11 — Photo

"I'm just saying, hair products can be a weapon. Remember the hairspray incident, Lucas? Hmm?"

"Urgh, you never let it down, so of course I remember. But why would there be a hairspray in the fantasy world? And why would you even pack it?"

"I don't care if you're using hairspray or not, just make the damned decision right now!"

"Uh, guys- you lost me back there but, what hairspray incident?"

The kids stop arguing and turn to Eddie. Dustin looks smug, Lucas is throwing his paws into the air, Erica looks like she's on the verge of stealing the dice box (Eddie designed it to make the kids rolling dice easier) from Eddie, and Mike is grinning like he knows what is to come.

"Well, you see, Eddie-" Dustin starts, "When I came back home from the camp, these guys had this absurd idea of sneaking up on me."

"It was a surprise party, Dustin. Of course we had to surprise you. It's literally in the name."

"So, I had to take defense quick — it required a swift thinking — and grabbed the hairspray off the desk and sprayed it on the intruder."

"I had to wash it off my eyes for ten minutes!"

"It worked perfectly," Dustin finishes with a grin.

It's adorable, how the kids have been friends all these years. But Eddie cannot help but notice a small detail in the story.

"Henderson, I never thought you'd be a hairspray type of guy," Eddie smirks.

Mike laughs as he hears the words.

"Oh, man. It was so terrible. You should have seen him!"

"It was not!"

Mike ignores the indignant scream and continues, "Dustin used so much hairspray at the Snow Ball, it looked like a bird's nest."

"No, it did not! It was cool!"

But then Lucas fake-whispers, "It did look like a bird's nest," and everyone's laughing. Even Dustin, as he mutters out "Well, maybe a little bit more than I should've. But it was cool."

"Man, I really wish I could've seen it," Eddie laughs, and suddenly he realizes he really means it.

He wants to see what these guys were like before.

Regular teenagers, living pretty normal and un-cursed lives.

As Eddie halts deep in his thoughts, the kids notice the change, too. They exchange glances, waiting for Eddie to continue. An idea strikes him.

"Hey, do you guys maybe have—"

"We don't have photos anymore."

But just as Eddie pitches the idea, Mike answers abruptly.

"I think Steve got rid of them right after we were cursed."

Oh.

"Oh."

It's a shame, he really would have liked to see their pictures, but he is reminded of how nervous Steve was just for being seen. Wouldn't have been easy, Eddie guesses.

But suddenly Dustin stands up.

"But we do have one. We do have one! Lucas, come on!"

***

"How did you even keep this one?"

They all crouch in a circle — now Max included — staring at the one photo Dustin and Lucas managed to save.

Apparently, they had kept it just before they got cursed, just before Steve got rid of everything else.

It's a black and white photo, taken at a fair. A boy with the wild curly hair is grinning in the middle, holding up a prize. A girl is next to him, trying to look nonchalant but massively failing, as the corners of her lips are shifting into a grin. She also has both hands full of snacks. Behind them is an older girl, pulling the kids close but her focus is elsewhere, and she's laughing at something.

Eddie follows her gaze to a blurry figure on the left. It looks like whoever they are, they are falling down. Eddie stares at the figure, only recognizable by the back of their head.

"So I'm guessing this is Dustin and Max?" Eddie points to the two kids in the photo.

"Yeah! We took them at the summer fair. And that's Robin, and uh, the blurry thing is Steve. He tripped just as the shutter went off. I told him not to put the bag there."

"It wouldn't have been big enough to trip on if you hadn't felt the need to buy every weird toy you saw," Max counters.

The kids are bickering again, deep inside the memories. Eddie senses a movement from the stairs and looks up.

Steve is there, trying to figure out what the kids are excited about. Robin's perched on his shoulder, whispering something to him. Eddie grins, mouthing a "hey" to them. Steve walks forwards.

"Alright, what are you kids up to?"

This gets everyone to look up. Eddie can see confusion in their eyes, secretly glancing between Steve and Eddie, trying to figure out what is okay.

"We have a photo," Max finally blurts out.

Steve squirms a bit at the mention of the word, but overall he stays calm, and Eddie feels oddly proud of him.

"Oh yeah? What is it?" he asks.

"The one where you fell, at the summer fair."

Steve groans and Robin just starts cackling, jumping down from his shoulder and hopping towards the photo.

"Come on, let me see. I missed this one. Oh my god, Steve, this is just too pathetic! I love this one, do you guys have more?"

The kids just shake their heads at the question, ready to tell her that the photo's the only one that exists. But then Steve, from behind Eddie, speaks up.

"I've got more. Uh, at the basement. I can get them for you if you want."

[thedawningofthehour]

Oh. my. god, seriously, every time a chapter comes out my hands start shaking, I was shocked to wake up to see that the chapter had not been posted, only for it to be posted a couple of hours later, and for the record I woke up at 8 am and there is only like a couple of hours difference between US and where I live! Woman! Do you even sleep?

My mom gets furious if I go to bed at 12 pm and I'm a 22 year old grown woman!

Uhhhhhhhh~ it looks like the 'Galois discovers the truth' arc is already taking it's first steps, I want to see the faces of the Draxum squadron when they see the wanted posters, especially when they realize they used a picture of Donatello for 'Galois'!

The guy's reaction when Annie told him about his family, one of the things I'd like to see in the recovery arc is how the humans will adapt to the Yokai, I love Worldbuilding stories.

So while they won't sentence Donnie to death there's still a chance he'll be lynched? Yikes, I hope Bella and Leo's testimonies help with their public opinion, again, it's all Draxum's fault, the guy had the kid for a year and already has like four 🎯 in his head, Splinter was right to take the kids.

Oh, my mother bothers me too if she thinks I'm up too late. But she's usually asleep by then, and I try to get to bed before she gets up for her middle of the night smoke.

Just part of living with your parents as an adult, I guess. Today she drove me crazy going through every item in the kitchen and playing twenty questions with me about it to make room for Thanksgiving supplies. Is this yours? When did you buy it? Is it still good? What kind of cheese is it? When do you eat this? Are you sure I can throw it out? But are you actually going to eat it? (she does this when she goes through anything, it drives me nuts) I literally did a fridge purge less than a month ago too, all the old stuff was hers.

But our rent's been the same since 2013 and our landlords are actually cool people, so fuck if I'm moving out and paying more for a shittier place to live.

It's pretty unrealistic, the Hidden City as a whole places a lot of value on children (so many of them have trouble having bio-kids) and their life stages all scale upwards, so 15-16 is so very very young for them. So the idea that they'd condemn someone so young goes against much of the overarching culture there.

However, Hueso's seen bullshit before. He knows emotions run much higher than reason in times of strife, and he worries about the dehumanization of mutants and the effects that will have. If Yokai see mutants as scary 'Others' who just exist to destroy their way of life, then they'd have no qualms about killing people like Leo or even the kiddos like Fatimah and Jenny-because they're not really people to them. And they would be furious at one of those 'Others' who played a direct part in their hardship.

To be fair, some of it probably would have happened anyway. People like Big Mama (if she was an actual crime boss and not a cartoon version of what a kid thinks a crime boss is) and other rich weirdos would have taken one look at him and been like "sweet! You work for me now. Say no and I'll cripple your legs so you can't run away. :)" Draxum's reputation and being legally his son does protect him somewhat.