#nobody's having a good time at the moment

[capricioussuns]

[ID: a tweet thread by @ OrionDBlack in response to a tweet by @ Lubchansky that reads "the US is obviously hurtling into a serious 'gender critical' movement and frankly i have no idea how we're supposed to combat it given that almost nobody who isn't trans seems to give a shit or notice"

OrionDBlack's reply reads "Aight imma spit real quick and hope that my FBI agent doesnt turn my phone off. /j Let's talk real quick.

There was a moment in Black History around the Civil Rights movement where there was a currently-unimaginable amount of coalition building. It is truly amazing to me that a letter from the Panthers talking about queer rights was signed by Mexican, Chinese, Black etc activists.

During that time, and the time that followed, the government dedicated themselves to wedging as much bullshit between our groups as possible. Crack. AIDS. Model minorities. Super predators. It just goes on and on.

Every time class consciousness gets a little bit closer to being realized, shit like this comes out in full force. We see BLM being branded as ultra violent. We see gender critical movements get a massive flux in support. We see how disabled people are basically being euthanized.

It's just straight facts that our government is experienced in disrupting and assaulting leftist movements. All of it is on public record. Our own country is included in the collective that have been broken down and "readjusted" for the benefit of white supremacy and capitalism.

The good thing is that we know we're getting closer, cuz they're scared. The bad thing is that we lose lives and are pushed a few steps back. Trans people are more of a target now than we were before, and it was already bad. Disabled people. PoC. The intersections therein.

I kinda miss the slogan 'all power to all the people'. Because 'all the people' means EVERYONE. It's inclusive. It implies that the work of deconstructing our isms is how we empower ourselves and are able to then collect under mutual interest. All power to all the people yall.

Anyway. Just do what you can. Just surviving is a revolutionary act. If you can do more, do so. We'll figure this shit out somehow." /End ID]

[barcaatthemoon]

complicate me || leah williamson x reader ||

Coming back to Arsenal was a mistake, but you and Leah manage to make an even bigger one together.

18+

You had always known that you wouldn't be at Manchester forever. A three year loan was a pretty long time, and for a moment, you had hoped that it would become permanent. Arsenal had let you stay the couple years, but with Jonas out, management ended your loan early. They wanted you back in red, not that you could blame them. There were a lot of important games coming up, and even if you technically couldn't play in a couple of them, you were still an important piece for practices.

It felt weird for you to walk the training grounds at Arsenal by yourself. Jen was gone, and she had always been the person you could count on to still be your mate after everything. Leah had kept most of your friends after the breakup, and then you hadn't exactly helped your case when you just up and left after everything.

You could still remember the way that Caitlin had practically begged for you to stay with the team. If it wasn't for Jen, you probably would have been convinced to stay. A part of you regretted leaving, but you knew that you hadn't been in your right mind with Leah so close after everything. At the time, it all seemed like too much to be reconciled, but now you were hopeful that things could be fixed.

You'd never in a million years get back together with Leah, no matter how good she looked. It didn't matter how many drinks you had on a team night out. After the first couple to celebrate wins, however, you promptly decided that you'd be a loner at Arsenal. With Jen in California, you had lost your personal voice of reason, the only person who could truly keep you away from Leah for your own wellbeing.

"Come on, you have to come over. You never do anything with the team, everybody's gonna think that you hate them," Caitlin pleaded with you. The two of you had been going back and forth for the past week about you coming to the party she was throwing with Katie at their place. It was a bye week, so everybody was free to enjoy the weekend. You knew there would be a lot of drinking, and that was what scared you. You had always been able to hold your liquor pretty well physically, but you made absolutely terrible decisions sometimes.

"Cait, nobody wants me there. Let's face it, they barely even want me playing here again," you reasoned. Caitlin could see you start to move to get up and rushed to grab onto your wrist. "Caitlin, I don't want to argue about this."

"Then don't argue and just come over for a bit. You don't have to talk to anybody but me. Just please, I miss you. I've missed you since you moved and iced everybody out," Caitlin said. She gave you her best puppy dog eyes, and if it was anybody else, you probably would have just said no. But because it was Caitlin, you gave in despite your better judgement.

That afternoon when you got out of training, you went straight home and immediately called Jen. You had hoped that she would convince you not to go, but instead, she had fully agreed with Caitlin. You hated hearing how it was a good idea to bond with the women you'd be spending the next two seasons of your career with. Once your contract was over, you could go somewhere else, but for now, you were stuck at Arsenal.

A lot of things had changed since you left. The changes may not have seemed like much to people who had been around, but they had definitely taken you by surprise. The big one had been Caitlin and Lia. Caitlin had been clinging to Katie's side when you arrived, and Lia was stuck by Lia.

Years before, you had been close with Lia, even closer than Lia and Leah were. Now, you just had Caitlin, who you had only befriended because of Lia. It hurt for the Swiss woman not to even look your way, but you couldn't imagine how it looked to her. You were sure that everybody had gotten Leah's side of the story, which you weren't calling bullshit, but you knew had to be biased.

"You look good. Leah's staring," Caitlin said as she nudged you.

"Whatever." You brushed off Caitlin's comment, but only to force yourself not to glance over at the blonde. You couldn't let yourself get sucked over there, not when you knew where it would end up. Leah had an uncanny ability to complicate everything in your life, and she had been doing it for years now. Your relationship had been far from perfect, but you were happier then. Now, you were miserable while she was getting a chance to live her best life.

"(Y/n), I didn't think you'd come." Katie looked just as surprised as she sounded. Caitlin swatted at the Irish woman's chest, but Katie seemed unphased. "I'm glad you came. It's been boring without my favorite drinking buddy."

"Do you really want me to drink you under the table this early into the night?" you asked teasingly. Katie scoffed at that, but didn't deny that you usually did win the little competitions. You watched as Katie sent Caitlin a pleading look before Caitlin just nodded. Before you could react, Katie grabbed your hand and led you into the kitchen where the alcohol was.

You let Katie pick the alcohol, and thus, your competition began. You should have known better than to start drinking like this so early into the night, but you wanted to have fun. It had been so long that you believed that you deserved to have a good night out. Several shots later, and you found yourself having to help Katie stumble out of the kitchen.

"Katie, you promised you'd stop at 5," Caitlin huffed as she took her girlfriend from you.

"Hey, it's not my fault that she did doubles," Katie slurred. Caitlin glanced over at you, who just barely had a rosy tint to your cheeks. You didn't seem too out of it, so Caitlin left you there to make Katie sit down and eat something with the hope of sobering her up a bit. It couldn't have been more than maybe 30 seconds of you being alone for Leah to find her way over to you.

"I see that you're enjoying yourself," Leah teased. Your eyes narrowed at her, but your anger was fleeting. You couldn't hold onto any one emotion for too long before forgetting what exactly it was that you were feeling. "You're gonna be feeling that tomorrow."

"That's not your concern," you told her. Leah seemed a bit shocked by the snark in your tone. She shouldn't have been surprised by it, you had spoken to her in worse tones constantly by the end of your relationship. "Why are you over here? You told everybody that I ruined you. Nobody wants to talk to the woman who ruined them."

"(Y/n), I was hurt. You know that I lash out when I'm hurt, besides, I am much more mature than I was before," Leah said. She placed her hand on the small of your back, and it ignited something inside of you. Without an ounce of hesitation, you turned and tried to kiss Leah. "Hey, no, not like this. I want you, but I want you to want me back."

"Leah, it's complicated. I'm complicated now," you told her. Leah bit her lip and glanced at the bottle of alcohol just sitting on the table behind you. You followed her gaze and immediately knew what she was getting onto. "You want to be on my level?"

"I don't think I'd feel so bad if I was," Leah reasoned. You didn't like the thought of her needing to be drunk to want you, but the notion was gone as quickly as it popped into your head. Everything was fleeting, except for your desire to have Leah. You didn't necessarily want her sexually; you just wanted her close. If you had to crawl into bed and open your legs for that, then you were more than willing to do so.

The trip back to Leah's was a bit of a blur. Leah's place wasn't too far from Katie and Caitlin's, close enough for the two of you to walk there. The two of you had left fairly early into the night, but it was nearly 11:30 by the time that you had gotten inside. Neither of you seemed to care as you had both been guilty of stopping to kiss and feel the other up.

Your lipstick was smeared on Leah's mouth and neck by the time that you got back to her place. She paused as she caught a glimpse of herself, a little more disheleved than normal. Leah promptly turned her atttention over to you. You looked just as far gone as she did, pupils blown wide as you watched and waited for her to make another move on you.

"Come on," Leah said as she tugged you along with her. Leah tried to move quickly with you, not giving you a chance to take in the state of her home now that you were gone. She was scared that if the two of you stopped for too long, you would notice all of the little pieces of you that Leah had refused to give up.

The truth was that she had tried, and for a while, they had been gone. However, Leah had always kept the few boxes of trinkets and little things you left behind in her closet. Lia had begged Leah to throw it all away, but the blonde couldn't bring herself to do it. Eventually, she began hating the way that her house felt, so she slowly put all of your things back in their rightful places.

Leah kept the light in her room off, guiding you to the bed herself. She didn't think about you waking up in the morning and seeing anything, but Leah doubted that the two of you would be on speaking terms for a while after tonight. Any time that you let yourself get remotely close to Leah for a little, you always blanked everybody for about a week or two.

"Lee, it's dark," you said. Leah just hummed, neither of you stopping in your attempts to undress each other. You wanted to see Leah's body, but you weren't willing to pull yourself away from her to turn on the lights. You didn't need the lights on to know the look of concentration on Leah's face as the two of you ground against each other.

You could vividly imagine everything happening around you. This was far from the first time that you had closed your eyes and just tried to imagine all of the things you remembered about Leah. Now, it was much more real than before with Leah panting and moaning in your ear.

"I want to feel you. I want to be inside of you," Leah told you. You had never been glad to be laying down before in your life. There was no way that Leah wouldn't have known how her words would affect you. You were sure that Leah could feel the surge of arousal as it coursed through your body.

"Fuck me, Leah, please," you begged her. You pushed a needier tone than usual, letting Leah really hear every ounce of desperation inside of you. Leah groaned as she sat back on her knees. One of her hands slipped between your legs while the other went between her own.

Leah could just barely make out the twisting of your body in the moonlight. She was so much closer than you were, but Leah wanted to make you cum. She wanted to feel you clench around her fingers at least one more time. She didn't know whether or not she'd get another chance to touch you like this again, and so she tried her best to savor the moment.

…

The hangover from hell was the least of your problems whenever you had woken up the next morning. With Leah fast asleep next to you, you quickly snuck out of her home. It had once been your home too, but once again, you were running from it. A few quick phone calls to Arsenal's management staff about taking some time off for your mental health and a hasty plane ticket purchase later, and you were dead set on leaving the country.

Leah would be mad at you, as would Caitlin and everyone else, but you had to go. You watched as a text was sent out from management about you taking the next month off. Text after text began flooding in as you packed a bag. You didn't know how long you'd really be away for, but you just had to get the fuck away from London for a while.

"Jen? I know it's early for you, but I fucked up. I'm not over her, and I just need to clear my head for a couple of days. I swear that I won't be long, they're giving me the month, so I'll probably go back to Glasgow for a bit too. I just, I'll see you later." You had always hated leaving voicemails, but the words just poured from your mouth. You knew that your best friend was going to kill you when she saw you, but she'd also take care of you too.

[copperbadge]

My neighbor the Drama Bisexual and his hundred decibel girlfriend moved out this past summer. I haven't met the new neighbor(s) but everything has been pretty quiet right up until this past week.

I'm not sure if new neighbor got a new girlfriend or if it's a woman living there who got a new partner or if they just found a source for some kind of potent aphrodisiac or the right sex toy or what, but a few days ago I thought someone was being murdered nearby. It took me an alarmed half-asleep moment to realize from the tempo of the thumping under it that actually she was....having an extremely good time.

Her partner if she had one was not audible but she had three extremely good times in a row so lucky her, I suppose.

Truly, after all the past strife, I don't mind the occasional extremely good time. Nobody seems to be committing infidelity with a lab partner or TikTok star so scream your truth, ma'am.

[auclairedetoru]

“This has been y/n and Satoru, thank you so much for watching, bye!”

The moment they reached the greenroom, y/n's smile drops. God, her cheeks hurt, nobody talks about how hard it is to fake a smile all day, it's like a workout for your face except you gain nothing at the end.

Her co-star walks in behind her, a cocky smile on his face. If she was him she would get tired of herself. How can someone be so egoistic? He loves himself more than his own mother loves him. Every second she's in his presence, she feels herself losing brain cells and getting gray hair, and as much as she loves silver locks on other women, she does not want the cause of it to be Gojo Satoru.

“Great job today, everyone! Y/n you could've been a little more cheerful toda-”

“Shut the fuck up.”

She plops down on the sofa and rests her head against the back of it. They still have one more interview left to do, so she's forced to tolerate that dumbass for a couple more hours, and it's a recorded one so she has to pretend she likes him too.

Why did she choose to become an actress again?

Right, childhood dream, worked hard for it, blah blah blah.

“Whoa! Careful there, tiger! Someone might be filming and you don't want to ruin the season before it even starts.” Gojo smirks, eyes glinting with mischief as he continues to push her buttons.

The people in charge decided to promote the filming of the new season of their show to remind people of it and get them excited, not that anyone was able to forget the last two seasons. According to the statistics, people love a slow burn story, especially when it stretches over multiple seasons. Yes, that does mean y/n has been stuck with Gojo as her co-star for three years now, as known as the longest three years of her life. Everyone around her tells her that time is passing by too fast, but it's been the opposite for her.

She's dreading this season the most. It might be the last, but it means the story will finally reach its long-awaited climax, which means her character and Gojo's will become more than friendly.

She doesn't even want to think about it.

“Leave her alone, Satoru. You still have one interview left.” his manager scolded him making the bright blue eyed man pout like a four year old not getting the candy he wanted.

The fact Gojo and y/n can't stand each other is something known only between them and their close staff, not even the director and producers know that the "chemistry" between them is something they make up on the spot and doesn't come naturally at all. They're surprised no one has figured out they don't like each other in any way, but y/n takes that as a compliment because it means that she's a really good actress who has perfected her craft and is able to fake getting along with a menace like him.

After touch ups, she goes to where the interview is being held, greeting the staff on her way and telling them she's excited to be working with them. Gojo smirks at her from his seat as she makes her way to sit on hers next to him. She mirrored him to keep up with the "we're best friends behind the scenes" thing they somehow built for themselves.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Can't a man admire his friend and co-star?” he teases, milking the hell out of the act they put on for the camera. Y/n wanted to roll her eyes but instead she forces out a laugh and takes her seat.

She ignores the way her heart flutters at his words. No need to focus on that.

A few months into filming...

“Alright, everyone!” the director calls out as he claps his hands, “Cameras rolling, sound is up, let's do this.”

Ah yes, the most important scene of the entire franchise. The first kiss scene. This is what the show has been leading up to, this is the moment everyone has been waiting for, this is the thing y/n has been looking forward to the least, in fact, she has not been looking forward to it at all, she wishes it wouldn't happen.

The scene takes place at her character's apartment, a place the set design team has made so cozy looking she wishes she could curl up and take a nap on the couch. Gojo's character is her coworker and he's coming to check on her because she disappeared from the office party after seeing him flirt with someone. That's when she confesses that she's been pinning over him for years and he confesses back before pulling her into a kiss.

“Okay you two,” the director looks at them, “not to put you in any pressure, but this is the most important scene of the entire show. All your hard work has led up to this moment. Satoru, you're the one leading the kiss, remember that she's very vulnerable and heartbroken, so you need to be gentle and soft, she's the person you love most so you're gonna handle her with the most care. Alright? Here we go!”

The apartment door closes between y/n and Gojo as the clapper loader steps in and holds the slate in front of the camera, “episode 11, scene 45, take 1!” they call out before snapping the clapper shut and stepping back.

The director pauses, glancing around one more time to make sure everyone is ready.

"And... Action!”

Y/n steps into character and hesitantly opens the door. Her expression shifts to shock as she sees Gojo standing across from her, hair and clothes disheveled. “What are you doing here?” her voice is a mix between surprise and hurt, just as the script calls for and just as they rehearsed. Gojo's eyes soften, exactly how he was instructed.

Yes, she can't stand him, but that doesn't mean she won't admit that he's really good at his job. He's not one of the most sought out actors for no reason.

“I was worried about you, you left so abruptly.” he says, letting his eyes dance all over her face only to catch her wet cheeks and red eyes, and no, it isn't makeup and fake tears, she spent half an hour before filming started watching "soldiers reuniting with their dogs" videos to get to that point.

He moves to cup her cheek, but just as scripted, she steps back, her expression flattering. She starts to remind herself of things that make her emotional to start tearing up, “I-I'm fine, you can leave.”

Gojo stares at her a bit longer than he's supposed to, but she blames it on his love to suddenly improve, and not that he's admiring her or anything, not like she wants him to admire her, that would be crazy on her part.

"You don't have to hide from me," he says with the same soft tone.

She tries to hold back the tears to keep up the strong and always optimistic personality her character is known for, and after a moment she allows a couple to flow down her cheeks. Gojo's face morphs into a concerned expression.

“I don't like seeing you with someone else,” she mumbles, her voice breaking with every word that slips out of her lips, “it hurts me, right here,” she taps on her chest with a shaky hand.

Gojo's eyes widen to feign surprise, a perfect mix of confusion and disbelief on his face, playing the oblivious character to perfection, “you... You like me?”

“For the longest time,” she sniffs, her voice thick with emotion as she starts opening up, “I held back, I tried not to make it obvious, but i can't anymore.” She drops an octave to deliver the last line, showing as much vulnerability and pain as possible.

There’s a pause, and everyone on set is on the edge of their seat. They could feel the tension between them, the two playing their roles better than what everyone imagined from reading the script. Gojo goes to take a step closer, stopping half way.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice shaking to show that his character is feeling nervous. The director looks intensely between the scene in front of him and the one on the screen, making sure that the intensity they feel in the room is accurate on camera to what's happening in real life.

It's her turn for her to be surprised, playing unsure and hesitant, not expecting those words to come out of his mouth, “w-what?”, her voice trembles as her eyes search his face like she's trying to find any uncertainties.

“can I kiss you? Please?”

Gojo takes the step forward. His voice is soft and his gaze holds hers, intense yet tender, leaving no doubt that his character has been lounging for this and wanting it for just as long if not longer than her.

Y/n takes a deep breath. This is it, she's about to kiss Gojo Satoru, the person she despises the most. She hopes it won't be awkward, the scene was going smoothly and the last thing she wants is a retake from the top, she also doesn't want to embarrass herself in front of the whole crew and become the topic of their gossip.

After a small pause, just as instructed by the director, she gives Gojo a small nod. Gently, and hesitantly, he cups her cheek as he brings his face closer to her. The nervousness on her face is mostly real and she doesn't know why she's feeling that way, she wants the scene to end already.

The moment their lips touch, something surged within Satoru and his free hand quickly grabs her waist to pull her closer to him. Did she always smell so... Devine? Why are her lips so soft? Is her lip balm candy flavoured? Why does she taste so sweet? Why can't he pull away from her?

The kiss is supposed to be gentle, a tender moment of affection, yet the way his hand was gripping the pajama top she's wearing betrays his character's intentions. But the way his thumb caresses her cheek is the opposite, grazing the warm skin softly like he's handling a little kitten. He knows he’s supposed to pull away now. He wants to. He needs to, for the sake of this scene. But something holds him there and it's making him not care about the script anymore.

It’s only when he feels a gentle squeeze on his arm that he finally pulls back. He looks down at Y/n, her lips slightly swollen from the kiss, her wide eyes bright with a spark that stirs something deep within him, making him want to lean down and kiss her again.

“cut !”

The pair jumped away from each other. They both forgot they were on a set, filming a show, and not in the comfort of their own homes.

“that was just... Wow,” the director shakes his head with a smile, “Satoru you went a little out of what I told you with the kiss, huh?”

“yeah, sorry,” he smirks with fake confidence, acting like his heart isn't beating faster than a racing car, “I just thought the moment needed that intensity, ya know? He's been waiting to kiss her for so long after all.”

“No I agree, you did the right thing. Go ahead and take five, everyone. This is one of those rare times when there's no need to do multiple takes, the first was perfect.”

Y/n lets out a breath she didn't realise she was holding and quickly leaves to go grab a water and get some fresh air. She can't believe what just happened. That was definitely not a normal kiss, it felt too real. What was Gojo thinking!? Why didn't he stick to the script and kept it short? And why did she like it so much? She's not supposed to! She's supposed to hate him and everything he does.

“Y/n? Can we talk in your trailer, please?”

Fuck... Please don't let that be Gojo, please let her ears be mistaken and it's not his voice asking her to talk in private, please-

She turns around, and it's him. He stands there, hands tucked into his pockets, looking a little... Shy? Since when does Gojo Satoru feel anything less than bold and confident? There's an unusual softness to his expression, one she only sees when he's playing his character, but without the little voice in the back of her head reminding her that he's just acting.

Despite not wanting to talk to him, she still nods and follows him to her trailer that wasn't parked far away from where they stood. She lets him in first and closes the door behind her to ensure no one can hear whatever they're about to talk about.

As they stood across from each other, Gojo's eyes dart everywhere except to her face, something he has never done before. His usual bravado is gone and replaced with an unusual hesitance. She watches him with a puzzled look on her face. Why is he acting so out of character? It's as if he's nervous to talk to her.

Eventually though, he opens his mouth.

“I apologize for going out of script during the kiss. I didn't plan it to happen and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable.”

Now he's apologising? Okay, something is definitely wrong. Gojo has never apologised to her in the three years they've been working together. She is starting to feel nervous herself.

“It's okay, really,” she crosses her arms across her chest, “like you explained to the director, it's what you felt the scene needed, and I respect you as an experienced actor to know what you're doing.”

“That wasn't my reason, though.”

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her skull. Huh?!

“what ?”

He takes a step closer to her, a look on his face she couldn't describe, “that's just a lie I made up on the spot. I felt a pull when our lips touched, I don't know what happened to me and it's driving me mad,” he runs a hand through his hair, a habit his manager told her he does when he's anxious, “I couldn't stop myself, so I just let whatever it is take over, but I still couldn't stop, I tried but I just couldn't pull away and I— I want to kiss you again! I want to kiss you right now!”

“Gojo, calm do-” her words fall on deaf ears.

“No! You don't understand! I want to kiss you, but you hate me! You can't even look at me without being disgusted, and I keep making it worse! I keep showing the worst version of myself around you and it makes you hate me more and-”

“Gojo! Stop!”

The look on his face is breaking her heart. He seems so desperate, struggling to put his feelings into words, but every attempt only makes him more anxious, his words stumbling over each other as he tries to make her understand.

“I don't hate you, Satoru”, his heart flutters at the sound of his first name coming out of her lips. Even in interviews, she always used his last name, this is the first time he hears her call him Satoru, “I hate how you act when we're together behind the scenes. You're always so sweet to everyone but I'm always the one you tease, and sometimes your teasing hurts.”

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's just- I've liked you, as a person, before we even started working together, and I treated you how I treated my close friends. I didn't realise I was overstepping boundaries.”

Why is it so easy to forgive him? It must be something to do with the blue I'm his eyes, it holds some sort of spell that makes everyone want to be on his good side.

“It's okay, as long as you own up to your mistakes and don't repeat them, I'm willing to see past it all and start new.”

A huge smile takes over his face, content with her answer. He is so happy, he's been wanting to do this for so long. He knew he wronged her and needed to apologise for his actions, but he never knew how to approach it.

Without warning her, he lifts her up in a hug. A squeal left her lips followed by a melodic laugh as she hears him thank her over and over again. She allows herself to enjoy the warmth of his hug. His fans didn't lie, he is really good at them.

He pulls away enough to look at her face without unwrapping his arms from around her, “Can we start new by allowing me to take you on a date? I promise I'll treat you like the princess you are.”

She feels her cheeks heating up with a blush as she nods, unable to hide the small, shy smile tugging at her lips. Gojo grins wider, his eyes lighting up with an unmistakable spark of excitement and something tender, “can I kiss you again? Please?”

She barely finishes nodding before his lips are on hers. He’s smiling into the kiss, unable to hide the joy bubbling up inside him as he realizes his newfound feelings are reciprocated.

And yeah, she did like him more than she let on. The small crush she had on him before they met definitely didn't disappear like she thought it did, instead it stayed hidden away and came back out when she felt his lips for the first time.

She never expected this nor planned on letting herself fall for The Gojo Satoru Charm™, but with him here, holding her close, and pressing a kiss filled with passion on her lips, she realises maybe, just maybe, she’s been wanting this all along.

The ending looked way better in my daydream lol. Hope y'all liked it still 💕

[serenity-bitty]

When I was very very young, in 1st grade, I had horrible handwriting. I'm also autistic, but I hadn't known at the time that it was something I couldn't help. All I knew was that there were girls who were prettier than me with prettier handwriting, and all of it seemed so effortless. I struggled and struggled to shape out my letters well, but when I took notes the rush of desperately trying to scrawl it out before the teacher erased the board would chuck the ability to try to make them neat out the window in a heartbeat. There was a man. Not one of my teachers, I don't remember who he could have been. A substitute, someone else's teacher, a janitor... I have no name for him, nor title. Really, he could have been anyone. But I know what and who he was to me. He looked down at my notebook and told me I had pretty handwriting. Of course, at first, I didn't believe him. I had been told by EVERYONE else-- parents, teachers, peers, strangers, EVERYONE-- that my handwriting was abysmal and nobody could read it. I had been subjected to the kind of bullying where they lie to your face that they saw something good involving you only to rip the smile from your face and laugh at you for believing them. I was far too young to be as wary as I was. He responded in kindness. He pointed out the tilt to my letters. Always, always tilted to the left like a reverse italicization, and said that not many people had that. That it was beautiful. I never forgot that moment. Even now, I remember him fondly. You may not be remembered by all, you may not be remembered for some grand achievement, and your name may all but disappear over time... But you will be remembered by those you showed kindness to. Your words and actions will be remembered, recalled with fondness by those who needed to hear them.

[ninyard]

no but really. riko's "lessons" on grief crumbling the second kevin finds out about riko's death though!!!! all of that suppression, all of the buried feelings, all of the time spent avoiding and hiding and concealing left to rise to the surface the second riko is dead!!!

i am convinced kevin freaks out in a way he's never freaked out before, in a way that sincerely shocks anyone who witnesses it, once he finds out riko is gone. in a way that subtly begs the question about inpatient care and an extended leave of absence and rehab. in a way that nobody else really understands because it was riko of all people to trigger this meltdown, but in a way that is genuinely terrifying

that codependency, even if undercut by relief that the abuse is over, does not go away without a freak out!!

-childhood in the nest anon

oh that's such a good point. Especially if Riko was successful in not letting Kevin mourn, if Kevin never really grieved his mother because Riko said, "You have me."

Like, what if the whole basis of Kevin's avoidance of grieving his mom was based on Riko saying, "So long as I'm here, you don't have to worry about her." Imagine every time he almost cried, every time he almost said I miss my mom out loud, Riko would grip his arm or his hand or his face and say something to the effect of, "Your grief is a waste of time and the only thing that matters is me, is us, is exy."

And then Riko's dead? And oh, he remembers this feeling that he'd only felt in vague bursts before, buried so deep he couldn't even be sure he felt it at all. The words, "Riko is dead," sound like "Your mom is dead". They found her body this morning. They found his body last night. There's nothing they could've done to save her. He was dead when the ambulance arrived.

It's like this doubled grief, all the things he'd never been allowed to feel for his mom suddenly coming back up, and like, these are feelings that Kevin thought he was too young to have felt. He thought he was too young to remember, he thought he was too young to understand but now he's reminded that, no, you felt it. You understood. You just weren't allowed to feel the monumental loss that you'd faced. You weren't allowed to work through this gnawing icy pain in your heart. And now that Riko's dead, you're allowed. You're free.

But now Riko's dead. Now Riko is dead, and his mom is dead, and fuck Riko for making him feel both of their deaths at the same time because he shouldn't exist in the same world that his mother does. The pain he feels for them both should be incomparable.

I like to imagine that for just a few moments after Kevin is told, he goes into shock, completely and utterly unable to function with the knowledge that Riko is dead.

"Riko killed himself last night," David says, and Abby is by his side for backup, for protection, for Kevin's safety. Betsy is on speed dial. "They won't tell me much, but they think it happened fast."

Maybe Abby nudges him because nothing he says will be okay, or good enough, or soft enough so as to not destroy Kevin. And he hears the words. He knew they were coming. They had to come, this was always going to happen. This was always how it was going to end. But his brain goes quiet and his hands go numb and he smiles a weak smile. He doesn't feel those words at all.

"Okay," He nods, like he's just been told that it's raining outside or he's wearing odd socks. "Thank you, Coach."

"Kevin, did you..." Abby's voice is soft as she reaches out. "Did you hear what David said?"

His eyes are empty, someplace far away, but his voice does not shake as he says, "I did."

For a while, maybe, they don't let him leave the room. He's quiet, disassociating, but not yet crying. Not yet throwing things around the room like David expected. Not yet begging for a bottle of vodka.

Does Renee come to the door first, or Neil? Does Abby answer the door because David asked her to, and what snaps him out of it? Is it Renee saying, "I called Jean. I told him to avoid the news," or is it Neil saying, "Have you told him yet?" that snaps him back into the real world, back to reality, to Jean can't find out, to Jean is alone, to Neil knows, to oh my god to this is real to Riko's dead and Riko's dead and Riko's dead.

Everything is familiar and nothing is the same. His body tells him he’s allowed to mourn his mom now, but he can’t handle it, and he can’t handle Riko being dead and Jean not knowing and Riko being dead and his mom isn’t here and he just. can’t. get his head around it. It’s all of a sudden messy and loud and confusing. He can’t let himself think about how Riko probably didn’t kill himself, he can’t ask himself why Neil knew before he did. He can’t believe it. If he believes it then it’s real and it’s his fault and who has him now? That was Riko’s job. To stop him from mourning so he could keep his eye on the prize and now he has it; They won the season. He put all his focus on exy, and look where it got him. All those lessons, all that burying of his feelings and compartmentalising to deal with it later hits him at once like a fucking truck and I think Kevin had the breakdowns of all breakdowns that day.

I think whatever happened to Jean on his own in that dorm room would’ve happened to Kevin, and more. He’s lucky that he wasn’t alone, I suppose, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. He’s tall, and he’s strong, and his head isn’t in the room when he’s throwing shit at the walls and screaming like it’ll help make things make sense. He doesn’t see where the chair lands. He doesn’t see who the books are thrown at. There is a chance that not one person in that room has ever seen anyone lose their mind so quickly, and intensely before. Because it’s not just Riko, it’s his mom, it’s his childhood, it’s his future, it’s his abuser, it’s his brother, it’s his identity and purpose and fuck, it’s Riko. Who is he without Riko?

If I keep going this will just end up far too long but oh lordy lord I think you’re absolutely right

[babybratzmaraj]

When we getting yo spin on Aaron Pierre frenn 👀👀👀

the time has come. YOU SHALL BE BLESSED

Any Time, Any Place

Aaron Pierre as Terry Richmond

You as Yourself

Summary: You just had to fuck around and find out on this one particular night, the same night you and Terry go out!

Warnings: Possessiveness up the ass, breeding kink if you squint, rough sex, size kink, established relationship, im missing some but my coochie is rawring.

A/N: Now listen, ik you asked this like 2-3 months ago, but i told you it was coming! megan! um i thank ms big bertha for helping me finish this, i owe her one😏

This man, this man is something else. You and Terry went to his former military friend’s homecoming party! The vibes were great and everyone was nice to you! even got a ‘I see you nephew’ from one of the older ones.

But something about his glare, his hands feeling on you in public and more sultry in private, his kisses on your cheek leaving you flustered, too flustered to even finish the conversation with some of his friends. But you managed, tonight was a good night! The vibes were good, the music was amazing, even got new shit to add to your playlist! Your hair was dyed, fried, and laid to the side, the curls bouncing with every move you took, and the wind having the right amount of umph to blow it correctly, felt like a Disney princess. Too much of a princess, it wasn’t long till you two were pulled up behind a family dollar with your legs in the air, his eyes looking like what boiling water would feel like.

The whole night he was giving you glares, was to warn you, the hands that traveled your body, were to warn them, the private kisses were to remind you, but you didn’t pick up on nothing, poor you, you didn’t know! You were just enjoying people being friendly.

“I’m sorry!” you managed to cry aloud, his hands at the perfect spot to hold you in place, the faint but still strong scent of Gin tainted his lip, his strokes matching the mighty smell.

“I bet you are ma, but I can’t have you being friendly to these niggas.” he said ever so sweetly, slowing his strokes to match his tone, the feeling of feeling him twitch inside you drove you mad, the kisses he gave you trailing onto your neck once you couldn’t keep contact.

“I wasn’t trying to be niceee,” you tried to plead your case with tears of pleasure stinging your eyes, threatening to fall but it’ll mix well with the sweat that ruined your hair, it wasn't the only reason though. “Then what were you?”

You attempted to answer his question, jarring your lips to fix up a sentence, but you were too slow.

Terry slammed into you continually, each and every slam and thrust he gave you found a new place to dig out. His eyebrows furrowed as he lingered for your answer, knowing good and Christ juice you couldn’t answer. this nigga was evil.

He slammed into you once more resulting in you screaming, staying still in an attempt to not cum inside you, but you just looked too exquisite at this angle, the soft white light emitting from above shined across your face, your eyebrows scrunched, and your mouth permanently ajar.

“You can scream but can't answer? I said,” he began to repeat, slowly rocking his hips into you. “I don't know!”

“At least you're honest, that shit ain't cutting it.” He told you, maintaining his pace exactly where and how it was. His tone is mean yet delicate, his eyes still burning into your skin leaving different patches of hotness until your whole body warms up again.

“This my pussy right?” You nodded, “And Nobody will ever get it right?” you nodded your head obediently, “And nobody’s gonna take what's mine?” his voice nearly going primal, his pace quickening at the idea of someone attempting to take what was his.

“Nooooo,” You slurred on your words, drunk off his loving, high off this moment, rolling your eyes back to see your own little sky with stars with a biggg shooting star as your orgasm washed through you, your body jerking around violently as Terry held you steady, giving you two more pumps before sliding out, leaning back to watch you melt further into the backseat.

When you came to, you looked down to see Terry slowly stroking himself, “Knees.” He commanded, your knees buckled as you could hardly move but you obeyed, perking your ass up in the air, teasing him a little.

His hefty hand landed on your cheek a few times, each time leaving a pleasurable sting behind. You heard him shuffle behind you, lining himself up with your entrance, swiping your pussy with his dick making you clench over nothing.

“This your dick right? Show me.” Terry insisted, pushing only the tip driving you madly in love.

You slid down on him with ease, a guttural moan fleeing the two mouths as the feeling of being together again, feeling the chemistry oozing off of each other, it was something that couldn’t be replaced.

You grabbed a hold of the driver’s seat as you threw your ass back onto him, arching your back some more, the clapping intensified times ten.

“Fuckk,” Terry cursed lazily as he fucked you back, giving each cheek a little smacked turning that spot more redder, caressing the right one as the left one was left to die, that asshole!

You felt Terry's presence grow closer as his chest rested on your upper back. His left hand snaked around to keep your face to his as he attacked your lips, the taste of gin deepening your taste buds as you savor the flavor of him, moaning into his mouth.

His left hand released your face, kissing your back before pinning your face down onto the seat, his right hand placed in the small of your back, bending your back in a way you didn’t think it could bend.

He moaned deeply, his languidish strokes reminding you of one thing: This pussy was his and to never let another nigga think he has a chance. Truly, you learned from this experience but will try again when you recover from this in 7-10 business years.

You felt a familiar sensation forming in the pit of your stomach, Terry sensed this and evilly went deep, hitting all new spots as he damn near bottomed out in you. “I want you to cum on this dick and I want you to cum now.” but little did he know you were waiting on his approval.

You erupted into a screaming, shaking mess, the sounds of squelching and slapping of skin drowning out the music.

Terry gave you three sharp thrusts before nutting in you, painting your walls like you were a canvas, and it created a beautiful scene. Terry collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily into your ear feeling accomplished that he was able to go through with his ‘Punishment’ beating the last score of 3 to 7.

“I love you,” Terry said innocently, kissing you gently, whimpering as he slowly pulled out of you. “But Don’t do that shit again.”

You flopped onto the backseat as you stuck up a thumbs up, your arm flopping back down as you heard him laugh.

Fin ♥️

Youve got Mail!📥 @megamindsecretlair @theebaddesttt @thecapodomme @henneseyhoe @planetblaque @kindofaintrovert @blackerthings @harmshake

[featherandferns]

my thoughts on the rudy/madison discourse and obx 4 generally (spoilers):

I watch obx 4 for the characters. I appreciate the actors, find their behind the scenes moments entertaining at times, and indulge in the occasional interview or Instagram post, but I do not 'follow' the actors. My fanfics are about JJ Maybank as a character, not Rudy Pankow. I appreciate Rudy Pankow's attraction, especially when playing JJ's character, but writing fanfic about Rudy himself (or any other actor) is, for me, uncomfortable. That isn't to shame anybody who does write or read such content, it just makes me personally feel uncomfortable.

All this to say: I don't care about the drama. I don't care about why Rudy left the show, whether this was his decision or the writer's. I think Rudy's girlfriend seems lovely, but I am highly aware neither myself nor anybody else knows her. Rudy is a grown man. He's in his twenties. He can decide who he does and does not want to date, and who he does and does not want to spend his time with, both on and off set. An Instagram post Rudy made on his story on Canadian Thanksgiving I think summed it up perfectly: he loves his girlfriend, and if people can't get behind that, then get out.

Furthermore, Madison and Rudy do not owe anybody anything. I don't find interest or want to engage in the toxic debate of the 'he said, she said'. They're all adults, they all have their own lives, this is all between them. The speculation and pressure from fans is cruel and uncalled for. They don't owe anybody insight into their private lives. Maybe they aren't friends anymore - that's okay! People drift apart, people fall out. Yes, it's sad to see the change from season 1 in terms of dynamics, but a lot can happen behind the scenes. That's life! Also, I don't like the comparison between Rudy and Madison, and Madison and Chase. People saying 'but the actual ex-couple can work together fine' are forgetting that every situation is different! I had an ex-boyfriend at an old job; I was pissed at him for a few months but civil at work, and then I got over it and he apologised and we became actual friends about a year after the break-up. However, I have other ex-friends and ex-lovers who I could not ever tolerate or be near, and I can't imagine what it would have been like having to work with them after a falling out. If this is the case for Rudy and Madison, that's a really tough thing to navigate! Give them grace - yes they're actors, but they're humans too! The bottom line is: it's their life, leave them alone.

Following on from that, stop placing blame! We don't know why Rudy left the show. There's all different opinions and sources about who said what, who did what, who is the 'bad guy'. Nobody knows the truth but the three involved and, as I said before, they owe this to nobody to disclose.

I think Rudy leaving the show, whilst sad, is a fair decision. OBX began filming in 2019. You do a lot of growing from there and, especially with changes in writing, you can want a change. I think actors can sometimes be too tethered to their characters and it limits their future work abilities, because nobody can picture them as anything other than that character. You can still have successful careers because of this (think Camila Mendes and Riverdale; Matt Le Blanc and Friends; Ellen Pompeo and Meredith Grey), but Rudy clearly wants to explore other areas and other characters, like theatre and Indie movies. Good for him! We should support him! I don't love this 'I'm sorry we couldn't save you from your actor, JJ' stuff, because Rudy gave his heart and soul to that character and that performance. He doesn't deserve to be punished because he craves a change. It's the same as any other job/career; we all want a change sometimes.

The writers and show creators have been getting a lot of backlash too. Here's my thoughts on season 4: was it their best season? No. Did it do some of the other seasons and previous plotlines/character development justice? No. Did JJ have to die? Not necessarily. However, it is easy to lose sight of the small picture when you have increased demand and increased budgets. Netflix like 'bigger and better'. When people are given more creative freedom, sometimes things can veer off course. We can forget the original character motivations, dreams and desires by getting caught up in the spectacle. The only show I've ever seen that really keeps the characters true and consistent, whilst developing, and never forgetting a plot point, is Bojack Horseman. To me, that is the only show. It's a shame, yes, that it veered so far from season 1's aesthetic, but that's how it is.

As a fellow creator, I feel it's cruel sending so much blatant hate to the writers and creators for making the show. If Rudy did want to leave, they had to find a way to make this work for JJ. Yes, I've seen some say 'he didn't have to die' but I sort of disagree. JJ is too loyal and attached to his friends to just 'go off' on his own to somewhere else. That would also be out of character. I think the way he died, and the build-up and plot points that didn't get resolved prior to his death, is a little annoying. I don't like how it wasn't in Kildare, in his home, and in a different country. But hey - that's just me.

I know, that if I took so much time and energy and money, working and building something that I am proud of just, just to receive so much black-and-white hate, I'd be crushed. Constructive criticisms and opinions are good - we can be upset about a character dying - but saying 'fuck you' and 'we hate you' is a bit mean, in my opinion. The time and energy and work gone into this season is astounding. The travelling and set design is incredible! I mean, the shop is the most awesome thing I've ever seen!

I also respect that they killed JJ. I'm not saying I wanted him to die. I'm saying, it pisses me off when shows give plot-armour to the main characters. It lowers the stakes. You know they're going to be fine because they're always fine (think the majority of Stranger Things - there's a really good video essay about that here btw that articulates this point a bit better). JJ's death was shocking and upsetting, that's how a death (in a show, at least) should be, but it means hey, there are real stakes here. It's not fair he died! He didn't deserve to die! But he did, oh my God. It takes guts to kill of a beloved, main character. I agree, JJ was my favourite part of the show, but I respect the choice, personally.

I liked season 4. It wasn't as good as season 1, I wish they stayed more grounded and didn't start so many plot points without resolving any/all of them, but I liked it. It was entertaining. The acting was pretty decent, though the chemistry and acting when Rudy and Madison had scenes together was a little disappointing (again, I don't want to point blame at a certain individual; it's hard to have good on-screen chemistry, especially when you don't feel like it matches your character's true motivations).

Was it unrealistic at times? Yes, but OBX usually is haha. It's a show about finding EL DORADO at this point, like I can accept that they let Sarah and JJ get swept into the sea during a storm and come out fine, without a single earring out of place. Sure, whatever, I'll take it (so unrealistic, 90% would drown and you'd at least shed your clothes to help you swim and stay afloat but WHATEVER. Also put your life jackets on guys wtf it's a STORM).

I wish there was more development on the plots, done by having less plots at once, and more conclusions for JJ before his death. I felt as though we were building up to a big blow-out/resolution with Pogues which never really came. Also, don't love how they handled JJ and his biological dad. I don't think he'd be that willing to trust a random man who abandoned him so easy. Yes, he's reluctant, but COME ON. JJ has the biggest trust issues. I just don't buy it. Also, explain, please, how Luke went from being so wonderful and gentle with JJ to full on abusive? Just a bit of explanation would be nice, please. Not a huge fan of the pregnancy plotline but hey, sure, whatever.

So, yes, that's my thoughts on everything: leave the actors alone; the writers have balls for killing JJ but that isn't necessarily a bad thing; give people grace; treat people with kindness; I'm going to keep writing for JJ; and season 4 altogether gets a 6/10 from me.

I'm open to different opinions, further thoughts, or just general musings/ideas. I hope this doesn't upset or offend anyone, I'm not trying to spark drama or shame a certain person or people: these are just my thoughts and views! So, I won't be participating in any 'who's the bad guy' discourse surrounding the actors. I'm just here for JJ and the Pogues. Take care of yourselves and spread positivity in this crazy, difficult time <3 and, of course, rest in peace, JJ Maybank <3

P.S. These are my season-by-season ratings: season 1 - 10/10; season 2 - 8/10; season 3 - 6/10; season 4 - 6/10.

[azrielslittleslut]

Azriel Appreciation Week- Day 1

Cool Quiet

@azrielappreciationweek

Summary: Azriel is sent on a mission to Illyria, gathering intelligence on a possible uprising. His shadows keep him hidden, but even his shadows cannot hide the camp residents from the fear and terror of his presence.

Warnings: language, dark!Az, mention of alcohol, reference to torture and violence

Word Count: 1.5k

The icy chill of the Illyrian mountains cut through Azriel's leathers, chilling his bones and rattling his teeth. The snowy gray landscape seemed to be endless, filled with the smoke from the fires of the various war camps situated in the valleys. He could hear the sound of warriors sparring, wings flapping, and even the distant murmur of the camp women carrying on with their daily, horror-ridden lives.

Gods he hated this fucking place.

With a steady hand, he raised Truth-Teller, the obsidian blade freshly sharpened. He twirled it expertly in his scarred fingers, his cold eyes focused on the barren landscape before him.

Azriel hated coming here, but Rhys needed his abilities to look into rumors of uprisings in one of the camps. Cassian could have come here, of course, but if there truly was an uprising, Rhys thought it was best to keep their knowledge of it a secret.

So, the task was up to Azriel, the feared and deadly spymaster and shadowsinger of the Night Court. He was the keeper of secrets and the conduit of pain and horror. He had done things that were whispered in hushed tones around campfires, and just the mention of his name made people's hearts skip a beat from fear.

Azriel pulled up his hood, the material long enough to cover his forehead and most of his eyes. He also pulled up the black turtleneck that would cover the rest of his face. Between these two articles of clothing and his shadows, nobody would recognize him.

His shadows swarmed him, wrapping him in dark tendrils, whispering secrets in his ears as they winnowed him to the outer edge of the camp.

Auron is beating his wife. His children are watching. Do you want us to take you there?

Odessa is meeting with her secret lover. If her husband knew, he would kill her. Should we take care of it?

Azriel did his best to block the voices of his shadows, silently telling him that he needed to focus on the task at hand. But his shadows rarely listened, always telling him of the comings and goings of anyone around and offering to take him to different places.

Take me to the heart of the camp, he whispered to them, his grip tight on Truth-Teller.

Yes, master, they responded, and he barely had time to prepare his body and mind for the icy chill that he felt as they winnowed him.

The voices of the war camp were all around, so loud that, for a moment, Azriel worried that his shadows had left him, leaving him exposed to the Illyrians. But as he looked around, nobody was paying attention to him, their focus on whatever chores they were assigned to.

Good. Azriel was still hidden in plain sight.

Females darted to and fro, some of them carrying baskets of laundry, while others were holding bags of food, no doubt heading home to cook for their good-for-nothing husbands. The males were busy training or cleaning weapons, their leathers gleaming in the small fires surrounding the center of the camp.

Azriel fought back the rage he felt at being here, in the place that he hated more than any other. He made it a point to let Rhys know how much he owed him for making him do this.

Az wasted no time in focusing on the common folk, knowing that he would get no solid intelligence from them. They were all pawns in a game, nothing more than numbers and bodies to make up the Illyrian ranks. Instead, he set his sights on the larger cabin situated at the east end of the camp, the chimney puffing out large plumes of smoke.

The camp lord's house.

Azriel moved, dwelling in every pocket of shadow, his presence in the camp totally unknown to those around. He shadow-walked past a warrior who had just gotten his ass handed to him by his opponent. The young female who was tending to one of the fires didn't notice him as his shadows carried him by, blending in with the shadows cast by the flames.

Eventually, his shadows carried him into the house, right into the living area. They kept him hidden as he stood in the dark corner of the room, his eyes on the two males in the center.

They were seated on couches, their wings drooping lazily onto the ground. Az smiled to himself as he looked at the size of the wings, pointedly smaller than his own.

"If the High Lord shows his face again, we need to deal with him," one of the males said, his eyes looking out the window and into the camp beyond. "I don't like him poking his nose around here."

The other male chuckled. "If he comes here, this camp will deal with it, especially if he brings those two bastards with him." He raised a glass holding dark liquor and took a sip. "We've been wanting to overthrow them for a while."

Oh? Is that so? Azriel thought smugly. Stupid idiots have no fucking idea what they're getting themselves into.

"I look forward to having their wings displayed there," the other male responded, his crooked finger pointing to a bare spot above the fireplace. A spot that was nowhere near big enough to hold all three sets of their wings.

"It would indeed be a nice addition to the place," the other one said with a laugh, his head turned to the side. His eyes looked to the shadows in the corner of the room where Az stood, his gaze wary. "Does it feel like someone else is in here with us?"

Azriel wound his shadows tighter around himself, making them darker. He wasn't worried about getting caught- he knew he could easily deal with these two worthless pieces of shit before they even had time to cry out for their mothers like the children they were.

"You need to lay off the whiskey, brother," the other male said, his tone dismissive. But his eyes were also looking to the corner of the room, his throat bobbing as he nervously swallowed.

Azriel smiled. He willed his shadows to move, just a little, but it would do the trick.

The two males jumped, their wings twitching as they nearly fell off their couches.

"Fucking hell. I'm getting out of here," the first one said, his legs nearly a blur as he ran from the room.

But the second male stayed, his head cocked to the side as he looked at the moving darkness. "Who the hell is there?" he asked, his voice trembling with fear. "Show yourself." The male reached for the Illyrian blade that was sheathed at his thigh.

Azriel knew a thousand different ways to use that very blade, and even more ways to disarm the male. He could slice the male's head off without even removing the blade from his shaking hand.

Azriel's shadows reached out, their dark tendrils moving along the floor, the rug, until the touched the male's boot. They moved up his leg like snakes ready to strike.

The male gasped, staggering back to get away from the writhing shadows. "Shit," he barked, blade held high. He looked back at the wall, where the shadows were darkest. "It's you. The shadowsinger."

Indeed. To his friends and family, he was always Azriel. Brother. Uncle. Friend. A loyal companion they could always rely on to protect and serve.

But to these people... He was the shadowsinger. They spymaster. The one who would torture them so severely that their loved ones wouldn't be able to recognize their mangled corpses.

Azriel grinned, commanding his shadows to reveal him. Not all the way, of course, but just enough that this male would know who had heard the conversation.

The male's eyes widened in pure terror as he beheld what was before him. Shadows and more shadows wrapping around a powerful, leather-clad body. Truth-Teller gleaming in the darkness.

And hazel eyes glowing with rage.

"I'll be sure to tell the High Lord about your... decorations," Azriel said, his voice so low it blended into the shadows around him.

But the male heard him, made evident by the puddle of piss now dripping onto the floor. "I-" The male's eyes were pleading. "Please, we-"

Azriel winnowed into shadows before the male had time to explain. He had enough evidence to present to Rhys, a sure sign that there was in fact an uprising on the horizon.

He moved through the shadows of the camp as he left, his ears picking up on the conversations around. It seemed that rumors of his presence here were already spreading like wildfire, sending the camp into utter chaos.

"The shadowsinger was here! Get in your houses!"

"Lockdown starts now!"

"Weapons at the ready!"

The shadowsinger. The shadowsinger. The shadowsinger.

Azriel smiled to himself as he left the camp, his shadows carrying him home. He wondered what horror stories would be spun about his particular night, and he looked forward to hearing them, knowing that all of them would have small pieces of truth woven into the lies.

Azriel was the shadowsinger, after all. A legend. A beast. A creature with no heart or feeling, both myth and terror.

general tag list: @quiet-loser @andreperez11 @lilah-asteria

@anarchiii @inkedinshadows @book-obsessed124

@scorpioriesling @olive-main @scarsandallaz

az week tag list: @bookwormysblog @fourthwing4ever

[darth-jess]

What do you think was the breaking point for anakin?

Oooo another WONDERFUL question! Sorry, but this is about to be a long post, because this truly deserves a long answer.

I think Anakin's breaking point comes the moment he discovers that Palpatine is the Sith Lord. In the movies, this plays out rather quickly, but in the Revenge of the Sith novelization by Matthew Stover, Palpatine builds very slowly to his "big reveal" and it is absolutely horrifying and wonderful and terrible.

Anakin goes to the Chancellor, to tell him that Obi-Wan has engaged General Grievous and that the Clone Wars are almost over. However, Palpatine is very direct with Anakin, telling him that Grievous and the Clone Wars are merely "a distraction" at this point. He tells Anakin that the Jedi Council is "about to make its move" and take over the Republic.

Anakin thinks the Chancellor is being a bit dramatic, but Palpatine quickly reminds Anakin that the Council continues to hide things from him, that even Obi-Wan is hiding things from him. And poor, exhausted Anakin (who has not slept in days– weeks?– for fear of his nightmares) cannot come up with a good response in defense of the Jedi. He tries, he really does, but this man is exhausted.

Palpatine then admits he is aware of Anakin and Padmé's marriage, that he has only pretended not to know to "spare [him] discomfort."

And this is where Sidious feeds Anakin his poison, this is where he sinks his teeth in and Anakin is too exhausted to notice until it's far too late.

Palpatine asks Anakin to think about what he wants, and once more, Anakin has no idea how to answer.

Anakin plays along, choosing increasingly more expensive things, and each time Palpatine tells him he will grant it to him. Eventually, Anakin gets tired of this "game" and chooses something so ridiculous:

"All right," Anakin said softly. "Corellia. I'll take Corellia." "The planet, or the whole system?" Anakin stared. "Anakin?" "I just–" He shook his head blankly. "I can't figure out if you're kidding, or completely insane." "I am neither, Anakin. I am trying to impress upon you a fundamental truth of our relationship. A fundamental truth of yourself." "What if I really wanted the Corellian system? The whole Five Brothers– all of it?" "Then it would be yours. You can have the whole sector, if you like." The twin gleams within the shadow sharpened. "Do you understand, now? I will give you anything you want."

Anakin is not stupid.

Even exhausted and alone, he realizes that nobody would grant such things without getting something in return. Of course, Palpatine only answers by telling him that he only need do what he wants, what he feels is right. Palpatine says:

"You can have every one of your dreams. Turn aside from the lies of the Jedi, and follow the truth of yourself. Leave them. Join me on the path of true power. Be my friend, Anakin. Be my student. My apprentice."

Anakin is too tired and too afraid to really consider his wording, he is so confused and isolated. The scene continues:

"I know what you truly want," the shadow said. "I have only been waiting for you to admit it to yourself. A hand–a human hand, warm with compassion– settled onto his shoulder. "Listen to me: I can help you save her." "You–" Anakin blinked blindly. "How can you help?"

And this is where Darth Sidious reveals himself, this is where he admits that Darth Plagueis was real, that Plagueis was his master before he killed him.

"You," he said. Suddenly he was neither dizzy nor tired. Suddenly everything made sense. "It's you. It's been you all along!" In the clean blue light of his blade he stared into the face of a man whose features were as familiar to him as his own, but now seemed as alien as an extragalactic comet– because now he finally understood that those familiar features were only a mask. He had never seen this man's real face. "I should kill you," he said. "I will kill you!"

Anakin's first reaction is to kill him, because he realizes that this whole time, his friend, someone he looked up to like a mentor, like a father has been lying to him. And not only that, but he is the Sith Lord that the Jedi have been hunting, the Sith Lord that started this war.

As the scene continues, Anakin wishes Obi-Wan were here, he knows Obi-Wan would know what to do, what to say. But he is alone. And while Anakin doesn't know it yet, his isolation is deliberate. Because Palpatine knew, that if were surrounded by those who loved him– Padmé, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan– that Anakin might not fall.

And then, Palpatine delivers the final blow:

"Perhaps not. Perhaps it's simply a question of whether you love Obi-Wan Kenobi more than you love your wife."

This, I believe, is Anakin's breaking point.

Though I think there are also very good arguments to be made for other moments as his "breaking point" (when he sits in the Council chambers, staring out and thinking of Padmé as he cries for the choice he is about to make; when he makes the choice to return to the Chancellor's office; when he takes action against Mace Windu and cuts off his hand to stop him from assassinating the Chancellor) THIS is the moment the black poison of the Sith is injected into his mind.

And every moment after this is just a side effect of that poison burning through him.

What do you think? Is this Anakin's breaking point? Do you guys have a better one?

[romancecroc]

Lucanis Romance (Pt. 2)

This is an alternative take on finishing his companion quest (confronting Illario after saving Catharina). In this version, the whole "I made paella and your favorite" drink did not happen.

Things have felt different between them. Especially after Spite somehow dragged Rook into Lucanis’s subconscious and helped them align on a goal.

Nothing had really happened before that. Just the occasional lingering glances. Hands brushing against each when nobody could see. Overprotectiveness during battles.

But with all that was going on, it was almost impossible to find quiet moments. To reflect. Or to talk. 

And with all her confidence, Rook didn’t dare bring the topic up again. Nor make a move. 

But she felt closer to him. Especially after witnessing all his inner troubles, his regrets. 

But was that enough? How would you name this? Having feelings for someone, feeling close to them and yet… nothing happening?

What exactly did I want to happen?

The thought caught Rook off guard.

Guilt was starting to build up. They never said they were in a relationship after all. Lucanis didn’t owe her anything. 

But at the same time… there was a sense of frustration?

“Rook! Are you listening?” Teia said, waving her hands.

“Ah.” Rook responded, finally snapping out of it.

She was in Trevisio. They were getting ready to save Catharina and set Illario straight.

Teia and Viago were preparing, but Lucanis was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently he would join in later.

“Don’t worry, Lucanis knows the plan. He’ll join you at the mansion. Are you ready to go?” Teia asked again, patting Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, sorry. We will get Catharina out of the mansion and then we’ll confront Ilario at the gathering.” Rook said, mostly to summarize it for herself.

“What are you going to do with Ilario when all of this is over?”

Teia and Viago chuckled, grabbing their daggers and facing the exit.

“I’m sure our first talon will know what to do.”

And with that, they both vanished.

—

It didn’t take long to sneak through the mansion. The team had initially agreed to only send out Rook and Lucanis - the less attention they attract the better.

But where was he?

Rook noticed one of the hallways having more guards than the others. With a dagger in hand and magic in another, she swiftly took care of them within seconds.

Until she felt a presence behind her. 

Instinctively, she elbowed them in the stomach, using the opportunity to turn around and push them against the floor. Her mouth dropped when she was finally hovered above him, her knees digging into his arms, locking him in position.

“Not a bad move, Rook.” Lucanis said, coughing between his words.

“Are you insane? I could have killed you!” Rock angrily whispered, immediately putting her dagger away.

“Please, Rook. I let you tackle me. Why miss out on an opportunity to get overpowered by a beautiful woman? ” he answered, a chuckle between the coughs.

It should have made her happy. The small flirts between them.

But instead, it just reminded her about her own frustrations. The impatient feeling, the guilt.

Without responding, she got up and offered him a hand. Pulling him up.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, concerned. He had expected a matching response.

“We should focus on the mission.” Rook responded, perhaps a little colder than she intended.

“Where do you think your grandmother is? I already checked the east wing, but no luck so far.”

It felt like he was catching on, but the mission’s urgency kept him from investigating further. Instead he started leading the way, casually sharing childhood memories whenever he saw something familiar. 

He hasn’t been home for so long - and yet she couldn’t bring herself to fully enjoy his stories. Once Catharina had been saved and Ilario confronted, Rook would return to the Lighthouse and spend some time alone in her room. Clear her head.

That sounded like a good plan at least.

“She must be here.” Lucanis said, stopping in front of a door not too far from his childhood room. 

Rook motioned to get ready, just in case.

Once the door opened, a cane started swinging around aggressively - until Lucanis grabbed it.

“My grandson!” Catharina gasped in disbelief.

Rook stepped away for a bit, not wishing to interrupt their reunion.

“You are mad as us. Why?!” Rook suddenly heard in her head.

Spite??

“Answer! It is…. distracting him!” Spite responded telepathically.

Rook wasn’t sure how Spite was talking to her. Based on how Lucanis was acting, he didn’t seem to be aware of it either.

I’m not mad. I’m just trying to focus.

“Hurt. Longing. Is it loneliness? No. It smells like… disappointment!” Spite continued on.

The last thing Rook wanted was a conversation about her feelings. With Spite. She imagined a mental block around her head - it must have worked because the last thing she heard was a disapproving growl from Spite. And then it was quiet again.

“Thank you, Rook! For returning my grandson.” Catharina said gratefully, looking over to Rook.

“He did half of the work. We should really bring you somewhere safe.” Rook quickly responded, rejoining them.

“Nonsense. Now go and stop Ilario, I won’t be far behind.” Catharina responded, waving her cane around again.

The expression Lucanis made, said enough  - there was no way to convince Catharina to change her mind..

—

“You must feel relieved having your grandmother back. Any plans for Ilario?” Rook asked, as they were approaching the gathering.

“I don’t know. But one way or another, he needs to pay.” Lucanis said, approaching the giant door.

One could hear Ilarios' speech from the outside. Monologues about how he was grieving Catharina’s death. How Lucanis was a shame to the family and the crows due to becoming an abomination.

And that he was taking the title of the first talon for himself.

“Whatever happens, I’m with you.” Rook said, preparing herself for battle.

“I know. Let’s finish this.”

And with that, the door was kicked open.

Everything happened so fast.

Ilario didn’t hesitate to attack Lucanis on sight, backed by venatori.

The crows, unsure who to believe, were fumbling around.

But like many other fights, this one was about to end quite fast.

“They will never accept you. You’re an abomination!” Ilarios screamed at Lucanis, almost like a child who wasn’t picked for a group activity. Most of his venatory allies had fallen by now.

“Are you sure you’re not stuck with a demon yourself, Ilario? Even Spite sounds saner than you do right now.” Rook said loudly, currently finishing off remaining venetario on the opposite side of the hall.

Embarrassment was plastered on Ilarios face. The sheer audacity of being compared to a demon. And despite having little backup left, he used whatever remaining blood magic he had to teleport himself past the crows.

“You will pay for this insult!” Illario yelled, appearing in front of Rook with a dagger in hand. Ready to stab her in the chest.

Growing up with the shadow dragons taught her well - especially on how to deal with crazy individuals that were about to stab you. There were different ways to make them stop,  even for a few seconds. They just need to believe they won. 

So Rook didn’t defend herself. Didn’t use any magic spells.

Instead she positioned herself in a way, so that the dagger would end up between her armpits. Her clothes were already torn at a few places, covered in blood. It would be hard to tell whether she was really hit or not. And a delusional blood mage wouldn’t know the difference either.

To dramatize the moment, Rook let out a terrible cry that melted together with Ilario’s victory laugh.

And multiple people shouting in the background?

Rook couldn’t focus too much on it, as she was busy taking a few steps back. Holding the dagger close, while she fell on her knees. And then to her sides, closing her eyes.

“Let this be a lesson for anybody who insults Ilario-”

The sound of something smashing against the wall echoed across the hall. Followed by a demonic snarl.

“They. touched. Rook! They die!” 

That must be Spite.

Oh…

Rook realized that she never discussed her cinematic move with the others. Neve was used to it. She had witnessed it too many times during their missions.

She hated it. But she couldn’t deny how it made enemies feel overconfident. Prone to making mistakes. Better to catch off guard.

But not something to do with unaware participants.

When Rook carefully opened her eyes, another body flew against a wall. Ilario was still standing next to her, looking in another direction. His entire body tensed up in shock. Apparently Lucanis/Spite had been brutally throwing any Venatory standing in their way against the stone walls.

“Cousin, you need to calm down. They are already dead!” Teia yelled at Lucanis, but Viago held her back.

The final stand was Lucanis/Spite finally reaching Ilario, grabbing him by the throat and hurling him across the hall. The impact was strong enough to make Ilario break a few pieces of furniture in the process.

“Not. Enough. He needs to… suffer!” Lucanis and Spite shouted, as if they’d merged.

He quickly kneeled next to Rook and despite his pupils not being visible, his narrowed eyebrows showed enough concern.

“I’m fine.” Rook whispered, already feeling bad for the entire thing.

“No! He hurt you. He hurt us!” Lucanis/Spite responded back, hissing.

He was going to kill them all. If he hadn’t done so already.

“I think you already punished them well enough. Here, look.” Rook said, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out.

“See? No blood. Your cousin just has a terrible aim. He thought he won and that made him arrogant, distancing himself from his allies.” Rook explained, though she wasn’t sure how much lucanis/spite caught in their frenzied state.

“No… blood.” Lucanis/Spite whispered back.

During all this, Viago and Teia used the moment to tie Ilario down. All the other venatori were dead due to… impactful wall slammings. 

“You’re disgraceful, all of you. It’s not enough he’s an abomination, but he also kneels?! How the crows have fallen!” Ilario continued to shout, but his defeat was imminent. 

Rook slowly lifted herself off the ground, kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about this little… stunt I use from time to time. Neve hates it too. I won’t do it again and-”

Lucanis pulled Rook against him, wrapped his arms around her as the purple glow in his eyes started fading away.  Burying his face against her neck.

“Never again.” he growled. 

Rook squeezed his arm as a confirmation. The embrace ended with him taking her hand and raising Rook back to her feet with him.

All the yelling subsided when Catharina finally entered the halls. Even Ilario finally closed his mouth.

Rook didn’t dare speak. As the situation calmed down, Teia and Viago complimented her on the dramatic stunt. Thanked her for all the help she’s given.

Rook politely nodded. She could feel Lucanis staring at her. Avoiding any instances of aggravating him further would be wise.

That, until Catharina announced him as the first talon. At this point, he was swarmed by crows. People who wanted to start building connections. Others who just wanted to share a celebratory drink.

Getting through the crowd would be impossible.

“I’m going home. Could you tell Lucanis when you catch him? I think I have worried him enough for one day.” Rook said to Viago.

He nodded and then sheepishly smiled at Rook. 

“What? What is it?” Rook asked, confused.

“Take care of my cousin, Rook. Enjoy your night.” he responded, slapping her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Rook shrugged and started heading towards the Eluvian. She looked back once more and managed to make eye contact with Lucanis. With hand motions, she quickly pointed towards the Eluvian and then waved goodbye. Before he could respond, Lucanis was swarmed by another wave of crows.

—

When Rook made it to her room, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed. What a day it was.

But these clothes had to go. 

She quickly slipped out of the blood soaked fabric that was already torn in a few places. Doesn’t look like it can be repaired.

She left it on the floor and moved to the baths. It was so late at night, she doubted anybody was going to notice.

After a good cleanup, a few bruises became visible. Nothing fatal. But some were going to stick around for a while. Especially the deep purple ones. 

Too lazy to dress up, Rook grabbed a robe and headed back to her bedroom. But she was hungry. There was no time to eat during the ordeal. Maybe the kitchen had something? Even just a snack.

She quietly snuck her way into the kitchen. Perhaps she could gather a few cookies and eat them in bed! Nobody would notice. It would be her little secret. It was also doubtful that Lucanis would already be back from his celebration.

“Rook.”

She froze. Her hand was so close to grabbing a cookie.

“Oh! You’re back already?” she responded, turning around. Caught in the act.

Lucanis was sitting on the couch. A cup in his hand, presumingly coffee.

“Yes.” he responded.

“I was actually going to come visit you in your room. After I had finished my drink.” he added.

“Visit me so late at night? Whatever for?” Rook responded as a joke.

But he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead Lucanis took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re wearing a robe.”

Suddenly Rook started feeling very shy. 

“Ah, yes. I was covered in blood and wanted to check for bruises. Nothing bad, luckily.”

There was tension. And she wasn’t sure in which direction it was going to go.

The sound of her heartbeat made it difficult to focus.

“I… should go. Get out of this bathrobe.” she added and slowly took a step back.

“A good idea.” he said, taking the last sip. And then placing the cup back on the table.

“You can then show me the bruises.” 

It took a moment for her to register what he said.

That, until he stood up and started walking towards her. Rook took another step backwards, only to find herself clashing against the kitchen table behind her.

It was too late now. Any means of escape were blocked. Lucanis stood in front of her, resting his hands on both sides - pinning Rock against the table.

“I thought you were dead.” he finally said.

Lucanis didn’t shy away from eye contact. Rook looked down instead, ashamed. At least until he gently lifted her chin.

“I was going to kill them all.”

His hand slowly moved to her cheek, caressing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” she whispered back.

“You didn’t think I would react?” Help me understand, Rook.”

“No! It’s just… I didn’t think you would react like that. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t sure where I stood with you, so I decided to focus on the mission and do my thing.” 

“And has today cleared your doubts?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her lips.

She didn’t respond. And somehow she already felt breathless.

“Mierda.”

His lips clashed against hers. It didn’t take long for Rook’s to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands grabbing onto him. Lucanis lifting Rook and placing her on the kitchen table, keeping her close.

It felt needy. Urgent. Especially when his tongue was starting to dance with hers, moaning into her mouth. 

He grabbed onto her waist, pressing himself against her. From all the movement, Rook’s bathrobe was starting to slip and any exposed shoulders were bitten, licked or kissed. 

What they didn’t realize was all the noise. Every moment caused a plate to fall. Cutlery clashing against other metallic objects. 

They finally froze when somebody yelled “What is going on down there?!”

After that, silence. Followed by quiet chuckles between them.

“I know it’s not honorable, but we could pin it on Manfred.” Rook suggested, fixing her robe.

“Hmm… No, I’ll tell them the truth.” Lucanis smirked, kissing Rook on the forehead and giving her space again. 

“And what is that? Sorry, I was fooling around in the kitchen?” Rook asked.

“Fooling around is a temporary notion. I intend to keep you for a long time.”

Lucanis smirked again, witnessing Rook blushing. 

“Now go rest. I’m still planning on inspecting your bruises sometime soon.”

Before Rook could respond, Lucanis had returned to his room. 

Falling asleep would be difficult after such a promise.

[inksandpensblog]

Somehow I got this idea of Chosen, left alone after the season conflict again, wandering away from the site of the final battle and then stumbling upon Victim’s abandoned farm.

Obviously by the time he finds it it’s a little run-down, because the property owner hasn’t been back in a while.

(Not that Victim had been spending much time there anyway, recently. As the lab grew, they started spending more time at their office, and their own house became more of a retreat. Though the neighbors would still lend a hand every now and then, at first.)

But when Chosen finds it, it’s been long enough that the neighborhood is pretty sure the original owner won’t be coming back.

Not that Chosen is aware of this, at first. It starts with him squatting in the barn.

He gets a good nap in, but eventually the farm animals notice there’s a person in the barn again and begin vying for his attention.

He figures out what they want, in the hopes that making them happy will get them to leave him alone, and then goes back to resting.

Rinse and repeat a few times, until Chosen realizes that the only way to get the animals off his back more permanently is to get a bit more involved and make some changes to the space.

So he starts fixing the barn up. Which leads to him fixing up the property around the barn. And he starts paying attention to what the animals’ regular needs are, instead of just their needs in the moment.

(The neighbors have become aware that Victim’s property is no longer abandoned. The new guy doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing, but he’s good to the animals and he’s trying to fix the place up so they all pretend he isn’t technically trespassing. He looks similar enough to Victim for them all to figure he’s probably family, so they figure it’s alright that he’s there if he’s gonna take care of the place. Nobody approaches him though; he seems to not want anyone to know he’s there…and, again, he looks similar to Victim.)

Eventually enough changes have been made that anyone who spent a lot of time in the area would have to know somebody was there, even if they hadn’t seen Chosen himself. So Chosen decides to check out the actual house.

I don’t think he moves in, exactly. He’s gotten used to the sheep snuggling up with him, the barn cat purring on him, the horses’ quiet solidity, the chickens’ constant quiet clucking, the cow’s lowing, the hutch rabbits’ fluttering heartbeats. But there might be a few nights when he needs quiet and solitude, so he’ll slip into the house for the evening.

But even if he isn’t completely moving in, he still starts to fix up the house. It’s something to do.

(He was wary, when the neighbors began looking his way. But aside from the occasional greeting or acknowledgement, most seem content to pretend they haven’t noticed him. He relaxes a little more.)

Eventually it becomes clear that nobody is going to dispute his occupation of the farm. His presence has been accepted in all the ways he can discern.

He begins to think that maybe, he can find contentment here.

(The neighbors have grown comfortable enough with him to call advice to him over the fence, in passing. He has clearly not quite grown comfortable with the idea of having neighbors yet, but he recognizes that help is being offered; and little Toby found his ball back on his front steps the day after he kicked it over the fence, so the guy can’t be that bad.)

So time passes, and Chosen truly begins to settle into farm life.

One day, as he’s working on the interior of the house, he hears footsteps on the porch. Nobody has ventured so far as to visit him on the farm grounds yet, but they aren’t the heavy footfalls of aggression so he cautiously opens the door.

Only to see a roughed-up Victim fumbling for their spare key.

Chosen is immediately tense. But...Victim is favoring one leg, and their hands are shaking, and breathing seems to hurt, and frankly they look like one good punch might kill them. So he waits.

Victim’s initial reaction, after freezing in place, is simply a flatly nonplussed “what are you doing here.”

“…I live here.”

“…this is MY house!”

[mer-acle]

i hold all the power (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Give me...

The big athena hcs

I desire knowledge and inspiration (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Haha

You kinda put me on the spot there. Not bc I don't have big headcanons but bc I'm like how do I phrase this without being like "here's the plot of that fic I wrote" yk? And now I'm unsure what constitutes a big headcanon... so I'm just gonna give you some more random ones and maybe you can help me out with what you were thinking of? (O.O)

For Epic specifically: Her owl form is a dark barn owl, bc they're really pretty and rare and have ginger feathers that match her hair

She dislikes Poseidon so much because he's so much like her father but her perception of him isn't softened by the love she has for Zeus.

Prometheus really saved her after Pallas's death. He kinda filled the void that losing Triton as a paternal figure had left more so than that of Pallas herself, but he took her along for his little creation projects (like the humans whoops) and they really match each other's freak. Yk. Until Zeus takes Prometheus away and definitely forbids Athena from visiting. I will literally murder him one of these days.

Speaking of Zeus taking people away, Athena was STRUGGLING after Pallas. Unsurprisingly, but still. Nobody but Hephaestus knows her from when she was still pretty openly mourning, they're all too young, and he never really asked why, but my girl was so depressed and lonely. She spend IRL HOURS in Quick Thought rewatching that battle and trying to figure out the moment where she went wrong. She knows Zeus intervened, but it doesn't matter to her, it's her spear, it's her kill. He was all like "for a nymph?" when she asked to take Pallas's name. "well, if you think that is a title worthy of your status..." It was her most open rebellion against his wishes for a while.

Her favorite domain is wisdom, but it's followed by crafting, not war. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys a good fight, but if she had to choose and wasn't worried about Zeus's opinion, she would choose crafting over war any day. The reason in my hc is how the domains are assigned, she was basically born with Wisdom, her powers are all about thought, and Zeus later assigned her with warfare which her powers work well with, but weren't technically meant for it. Meanwhile crafting is her "Passion domain" meaning her power in it literally stems from her intense enjoyment for creating. Imagine "What else can I do" from Encanto, but it's her discovering making clothes for the first time. The angst factor of this obviously being "My life has one mission, create the greatest warrior" Why is that her one mission? Is it the crushing weight of who she has to be?

My favorite bigger concept has to be her relationship with truth. In other words, Athena lies and manipulates her way through life, she is smarter than her father but knows he holds the power, so her council is whatever works in the moment, if she knows it's hopeless, she'll tell him what he wants to hear. Life has become a game for her, a game where she sells her soul for approval, bc she's lost those who loved her unconditionally, and can't trust those around her bc they're all trapped in the game with her, she doesn't want to be the favorite, she needs to be the favorite, it's the only way to survive, the only way for some semblance of safety and control, and yes, she gets along with mortals better than gods because they hold no power over her, they can't threaten the position she's worked so hard to achieve. Until Odysseus compromises a part of her that she hadn't thought she still had. Attachment never felt like danger with Pallas, but it does now, because what does it matter if you're more powerful when you respect the other person too much not to honor their wishes, should they tell you to leave them alone? If asked, she will have to leave, and that's terrifying (None of that would be overly conscious before My goodbye but for me, that breakup deep down always will be Athena being scared of her own feelings and trying to stop it before it goes too far and being at least 15 years too late.)

Woah that got dark lol I just wrote the last section and was like 👀fuck I am projecting SO bad. Like... gods I am so not okay. Jokes on me I thought I had headcanons all I have is trauma lmao

Anyways lol

Hope you liked it, and do let me know if you had something else in mind, I'll do my best :3

[euphorix-moon]

Lyricist

Musician!Ellie x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You and Ellie longing for each other after your breakup

Warning: Just an angsty fic

A/n: It's definitely been a while since i've posted here but i've missed writing here so i'm just tryna get back into the groove of things, this work might be a lil rusty

It's been a year since you and Ellie had broken up and went separate ways. You were devastated when Ellie came to up to you one day saying that it would be better if you two broke up. Her music career was just starting to blow up and she thought that it would be the best for both if you guys ended things so she could focus more on her career.

Although you were upset Ellie thought that her career was more important than the relationship you two had developed you wouldn't try and fight her. What would even be the point of trying to get her to stay. You didn't want to carry the guilt of potentially holding her career back

The breakup had gone way smoother than Ellie had expected,and it had hurt Ellie more than she expected. Although she had prepared herself for this, it still hurt to see things end. She had wanted and hoped you'd fight for the relationship just a little more. It hurt Ellie a lot to end things right here especially after how much you have helped her, but it wasn't really her choice. Ellie had worked so hard to get where she is in the music industry, once one of her songs started blowing up her company had not wasted time in trying to promote her. Ellie was extremely grateful for this opportunity but, the only problem was that her agency was really working her hard to the point where she didn't really have much time to spend with you anymore. You didn't mind Ellie not being around as much because you knew this was her dream and you wanted to support her through every step of the way but, Ellie thought you deserved way more than the treatment you were getting from her and her hectic work schedule. It put Ellie in a tight corner but eventually she called it quits with you.

Since that day Ellie has worked hard and she had finally became a mainstream artist. You would walk around your city and see pictures of her plastered around almost every corner. There was a very bittersweet feeling within you, one half of you couldn't help but be proud of her but another part of you couldn't help but loathe seeing her after that day she left you high and dry. Although you do resent her for what she did, you can't help but still miss her. You'd think about the days where Ellie would show you the drafts of her songs or the days where she would ask you to help her come up with new lyrics to her song. Once in a while you do take the time to listen to her music and every time you do it gives you a wave of nostalgia when everything was good for you.

Ellie had always loved writing her songs about her experiences in life and had built a fanbase around people who could relate to her or just liked the vibe of her music. Her most popular songs and the songs she wrote the most about were about you, deep down she missed you a lot and whenever she was in a mood (which was pretty often) she started writing about you two and the time spent together. Wether it be bad or good she found herself cherishing all these moments she had with you. She found herself regretting leaving you and wishes she could get you back.

After getting more mainstream, Ellie had tried to get back into the dating scene to at least gain some,a sort of normalcy that she craved for. Recently Ellie has found herself getting more lonely and just wanted the feeling of having someone by her side, these feelings reminded her a lot about you and the comfort that you gave her but she doubted that you would want her back after how she left you. She had tried but there are little to no people who are actually genuine with her. She felt as if nobody could get past the fact that she famous and it seemed as if they just wanted to get near her just for the sake of it. After long days, she just wanted someone to lean on but after she had left you she found herself alone. With all these feelings sitting in her system she finds herself writing them all out into her songbook. She never expected these songs to get out in the first place but after her manger found her songbook it was over for her.

You spend time working in your cafe, the radio is always playing throughout the restaurant just to give the customers something to listen to. On numerous occasions you have heard Ellie's songs playing on the radio but you usually just tune it out, Until one day when the cafe was running pretty slow, you just happen to catch the lyrics of her song and wonder if there is still hope that she may come back to you.

A/n: Hopefully yall enjoyed and maybe i may make a part 2 where they reunite

[asraindarkness]

vent time! i have to disrespectfully disagree with people who are now suddenly saying "it was clear from the start that bucktommy was just a short-term thing". the whole issue with the argument is this: 911 has never been the best written show, and especially everything after s4 has been capital R Rough. this is no succession, the bear, arcane. you know, tv shows that have incredibly story continuity, character writing, and pacing. people say that bucktommy was not written "well enough" as if that is a valid sign in the 911 universe that the breakup was a sure thing. i call bullshit. when was the last time that the show has wrapped up even the simplest storyline in a satisfying and serious way? when was the last time character development happened and was take seriously? when was the last time the main characters didn't feel stagnant and the stories didn't feel repetitive? when was the last time the show didn't go in circles and choose the easy or sometimes most offensive way out? 911 had enough meat to tell compelling stories for 3 seasons, afterwards it went noticibly downhill. people who say that the "bad writing" of bucktommy should have been a clear sign are talking complete nonsense imo. tommy was the first ever love interest who checked all the boxes, who got verbal approval of bobby (who has watched buck grow and knows him incredibly well and who did notice a positive difference in buck!), who had everything that we have been told buck needs in a partner for 6 seasons. the canon text spelled out: this could be the one.

we were not delusional for that because, once again, i have to point out: the wonky writing is not a bucktommy problem. it has been and still is a general 911 problem. if they butcheted the bucktommy writing while they did great with everything else, yes, then i would agree the signs were there. for 911 standards of writing, which are very low in comparison to good tv shows, bucktommy has actually been done pretty damn great until that fucked up breakup. people say "they didn't even know each other after 6 months" and i retort "athena first admitted that she had a fiance before michael to michael and bobby like 30 years (?) after the fact". this show has been fucking up storylines left and right for years, and most characters and dynamics had many moments that were terribly written and poorly handled and were only enjoyable when you ignored the idiocy of it all. this show doesn't care about timelines, doesn't care about logic, doesn't care to base the drama within the constraints of a realistic depiction of society and laws. it retcons things for shits and giggles. the mains only get through it all thanks to plot convenience and plot armor. like please. we try to find logical solutions (e.g. tommy lands the plane) and the show will choose whatever is the most ridiculous idea (12 yo lands it).

looking at the bigger picuture, bucktommy had incredible potential for 911 standards and could have easily worked long-term if only the writers wanted to do so. the simple problem is: they apparently don't want to put any more work into it. it is as easy as that. many things in this show never lived up to their full potential and got wrapped up in the most ridiculous ways that nobody could have ever predicted. like, my bad for expecting some leftover common sensen and logic in the weewoo show! at this point, it feels like a skit starring clowns that will do the most random shit. rinse and repeat.

in that context and thinking back to all the butchered storylines, bucktommy had actually been a fucking masterpiece so far. now, it unfortunately just joins a looong row of things that could have been impactful and meaningful if only the show had good storytelling.

how could i have ever knew a breakup is coming when the writing literally said i wrote them for 8.05 as an stablished couple who where doing ok just so the breakup could hurt more!!! hurt who??? cuz most of their fandom were queers, so there is that.

and yes i agree with you. i dropped the show after s6 and came back to it ONLY bcz my friend told me buck came out bi and start this season only bcz i was invested in buck and his relationship journey cuz i knew for a fact the other part of this show is not gonna get any better and the fucked that up to.

they only claim they KNEW they’re gonna break up cuz they were saying it since 7.06 lol

and it piss me off when they say there was no chemistry (which i disagree) cuz this is so stupid. lacking chemistry is something WE see as audiences it is not a thing for characters in the story, they don’t see it and they don’t feel it so it can not be a reason for them to breakup, like??????

all and all bddie shippers has been dancing this dance for 7 years now and yk what? i hope they do get what they want cuz 911 is not gonna change the writing so i hope they do get bddie in this exact writing they seem to loooove cuz i know it’s not gonna be all fair dust and unicorns lol

(i still love buck and i hope hope hope they handle his sexuality better at least from now on but im not optimistic)

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last Hope chapter 4

Hello everyone :D i have finally decided to upload a chapter i postponed for weeks. Hope yall enjoy it, lmk your thoughts and reactions

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse

Chapter1 Chapter2 Chapter3

God. 

You were crazy. You were confused and blind. You didn't know whether it was love or hate. 

Hating your kidnapper seems to be the logical explanation most people would come up with. But again, most of those people had not been kidnapped, nor was Leon S Kennedy the one who did it. 

A few days ago, you had played with his nerves more than ever.

You took a small knife from the kitchen when he allowed you to watch him cook. Trying to be sneaky was harder than it sounds. 

You have been his good girl for a whole month, yet trying to steal a knife to kill him. 

Little did you know, Leon had already noticed your little trick, sneakily putting it in your sleeve while you kissed him.

He was happy that you were showing affection without any fuss at first. But when he saw your true intentions, he was furious. 

That same night you tried to stab him when he was sleeping. Or pretending to be asleep, waiting for the right moment to give you what you were itching for.

To say the least, you got your punishment.

Even though you got him mad a couple times during the months you lived in the isolated house, it was never this bad. It never went as far as Leon refusing to acknowledge you or tamper you like his usual self. 

Humans are social creatures. Communication was the key to survival starting from the ice age to the modern world. People need love, someone to laugh and talk to. Without these, life was darker than the pitch of hell. This what you felt like was happening to you. Leon was the only being you talked, communicated, snuggled in for a long time. 

Now he was trying his hardest ignoring and giving you silent treatment. Thinking more about this situation, it was half funny, half painful. 

If you start from the funny part, he was childish. The one who made sure to comment about how stable and mature for a family was now acting like a spoiled, mad 5 year old. 

At the same time, you realized you were truly alone. Here, in this prison of a house, you at least had someone to give a shit about you at least a bit, even if it was toxic. But thinking about your past life, you had nobody for you.

Hell, if you made a bet with a stranger your mom would stab you from the back if she wanted to have your boyfriend in her bed, it was not a lie you would lose a few bucks. 

You are alone in this miserable life with no one except a mentally ill old man. You were sure he had an addiction problem before by the looks of his face. It's easy to tell when you grew up with one. And worked to help those people, sacrificing everything that had the curse to be yours. 

Guilt was filling the room, almost drowning you till you can’t breathe. Even if he was shit, he still cared for you. Were you this pathetic to try to crawl back in the arms of someone you attempted to murder? Yes, you were. But who cares? Who cares as long as he forgives you? You are just going to pretend everything is fine till everything is not and the cycle starts all over.

You felt even shittier when the memory of you holding the knife and sitting on his lap when he was asleep, ready to slice his throat. If your childhood self saw you like that, she would think you’re a monster. 

But in the end, you were one. That’s why you have no one good enough that is willingly to stay with you. 

You had willingly pushed away someone that actually cared for you without even thinking. How stupid are you to try to do that? You cared and craved the attention that came with him. You were just not used to love that you immediately persuaded it as poison.

He locked you in the same room with no food and water for 3 days. No matter how much you pleaded, he wouldn't budge in. 

“Leon… Daddy… Please…” you begged again. You had already lost count of your whining and were begging for him to let you out. 

“I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Please?” 

Leon signed hearing your whining repeatedly in the morning before he even had his first cup of coffee. Work was already harder these past few days, your whining made it even more irritating. 

Hell. He should even add a little bit of vodka in his coffee since destiny decided to play with him again. 

Leon had already decided the love of his life bumped into him at the hospital, but he was starting to realize it was an illusion his heart made to bear with the pain of real life struggles.

Leon was starting to see the truth that you will never be someone he wanted. All he ever dreamed of was the perfect american dream where he had a beautiful wife and a few kids running around his house. If the Raccoon city event never happened, he wouldn’t even have looked your way. 

You were rude, wild, inconsiderate, and lacked motherly instincts. Leon was not even sure if you thought like a normal person. He was not blind to your personality. When he was carefully selecting you as his future wife and the mother of his kids, he noticed quite a lot of details. 

The way you responded to children crying, someone immature, or confused people asking for help or getting unlucky in life, he took notes of how you stare at them and how you respond with your body language.

He knew you were not a good person. He knew you wouldn’t be a good, caring mother. 

Despite the fact he refused to acknowledge your real self, he had hoped someday you will grow to love him and want to have children of your own. Little did he know, he felt angry at himself for giving you too much hope. 

In his own delusion, Leon thought you completely had given up the thought to escape and run away. Never in a million years, he would have imagined you holding a knife and almost killing him. 

Now, he didn’t even know if you were the right choice to go with for the rest of his life. 

But listening to your pleas, apologizing, and regrets pulled a string in his heart he hadn’t acknowledged since he was twenty something. 

Maybe you realized you were nothing without him. You didn’t have the basic needs of a human if he didn’t bother to notice you. You should be grateful. You should be grateful he takes care of you better than he takes care of himself. You should be grateful he chose to save you from your miserable little life before him.

But hearing your cries changed his already made up mind. It was something he would only do for you. Something he hoped that would change your mind about starting a family. 

Leon stared down at you with a cold glare as you whined pathetically before crawling and hugging his legs as you sobbed like you’re at your father's funeral. 

As much as he loves his parents, only one memory is engraved on his mind from his childhood. He remembers that day, clearer than water. Holding a bare white rose while people stared at the big hole in the ground as his parents were put to peaceful sleep forever without anyone interrupting them again. 

Standing there alone and confused why his parents would never come back. What did his parents do to be killed like that? Still to this day, Leon doesn��t have any idea why his parents were targeted out of all the people in the world.

His main goal is to never let any of his children go through that pain. Not in a single day he had a moment of lasting peace. Why would he not deserve a little dose of happiness others knew the taste more than once? 

You were his last hope. Last hope for a new beginning. To something he can’t have again.

“I’m sorry. Please. Daddy. I love you. Please, forgive me” you cried, sniffing your runny nose while kissing his legs. As much as you would have loved to make comments about his hairy long legs, you were not in the right position to be sarcastic.

“If you try to pull that shit again, your “daddy, i love you” is not going to work again.” he muttered before grabbing your wrists, pulling you up.

“See what happens when you disobey me?” Leon eyed your tired figure from the lack of food, shower and him.  

“I won’t do it again. I promise.” you muttered, hugging him hesitantly. It was a strange feeling for you. Even before you were forced to show affection, you never felt genuine enough to hug a person before. Sometimes rare visitors would hug you, it only gave you ick.

Something about it made me want to cry, while something else was making you angry at Leon. Where did his promise of taking care of you no matter what went when he was mad? Were you just a little toy for him to abandon when life gives him something sour? Is he someone that would abandon you at your lowest just like everyone else?

Walking into the kitchen you were greeted with a vegetable soup with a slice of bread, poured in the plastic bowl he bought for you specifically. 

“Eat well.” Leon muttered as he sat next, watching you devour the food. 

“Slower. It's not good for the body”

After a few minutes of eating, he brought you into the bedroom, showering you carefully before helping you put on a fresh set of pajamas.

“Sleep” Leon muttered as he laid beside, kissing your temple. 

Warm, soft blanket made you feel like a newborn being swaddled in its mothers tight embrace. After spending 3 nights on the cold flooring of the house, the bed felt like heaven.

Not to mention the fact, after a while Leon would occasionally rub your clit through your pants or give your nipple a hard pinch enough to awaken something in your belly.

As much as he missed you, Leon quickly learned you were even worse than him somehow. The way you begged for another round at 2 am at night proved everything he needed to know. 

“My baby missed me so much. Huh?” the older man smirked, feeling you clench as his pace increased. Your hands went back to the bed sheets while you babbled nonsense.  

“You see how much I love you?” Leon muttered as he stared at your dilated eyes.

As you nodded, he felt a satisfaction he hadn’t experienced in a while. Soon he felt himself finish inside you. 

“Promise me. Promise me that you would love me forever” 

You took a long shaky breath, brain foggy from the your body was being warmed by his warm cum. 

“I will… I will as long as you do” you said as Leon captured your lips in a passionate long kiss. Spit connecting you two still as he pulled away. “Sweet dreams baby”

Next chapter start: Leon grinned to himself as he started connecting all the clues God left for him. Your moody, bratty behavior, sweet cravings, morning sickness. He was trying to tell Leon his dreams are coming soon. 

Now that he knew you were with a healthy child, he was never going to let you go. If he had to fight for the sake of his child, he wouldn’t hesitate even if it’s you. After all, a child was more important than your temporary stupidity.