#okay sorry more redundant tagging

[nhura]

What pretty eyes. Tell me, do they shine in the dark? What if they used to? Well if they did, I'd sell them in a heartbeat. What if he did?

An Aventurine/Ratio slowburn set in a parallel universe where Aventurine may or may not have sold his eyes for good luck. Written by Pent, beta'd by yours truly! Chapter 1 has been published. Do mind the tags!

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Part 8 continuation of your little date, I hope you enjoy! Also haven't proofread it because I didn't want to make you all wait another week for it. Sorry. You're welcome to point out errors to me. English words were hard this time, sorry if some of it is redundant. Part 7 | COD Masterlist | Part 9

Simon watches you from the corner of his eyes while you two walk alongside each other through the park. You’re tossing a ball for Wraith and the guard dog basically turned into an overgrown puppy at the sight of the toy.

It’s gotten late and after you spent the entire afternoon in the Café talking, Wraith needed a walk. Instead of saying goodbye you invited Simon to tag along. That’s a win, right? It’s a big step. You voluntarily decided to spend more time with him and Simon can feel himself vibrate with excitement.

“So an ex-soldier. What exactly did you do?”, you ask him while you toss Wraith’s ball for the thousandth time. You turn your pretty face towards him and he meets your eyes, puts his hands into his pockets and slightly shrugs his shoulders.

“Spec Ops.”, is his simple answer and you furrow your brows.

“Spe- what?” The confusion in your voice is adorable and Simon balls his fists, stuffs them deeper into his pockets so he doesn’t do something stupid (like pull you in and kiss you breathless).

“Special Operations. We weren’t really deployed somewhere permanently, instead they sent us wherever we were needed. Lots of stuff I am not allowed to talk about.”, he explains and wonders if you’ll be scared of him again.

When he looks at you, your eyes are wide. “Oh.”, you mutter and seem to think hard. It grows quiet for a minute and a small smile finds its way onto Simon’s lips. You’re chewing your lips again, seemingly troubled and who the fuck allowed you to look so adorable doing that.

“What is it, sweetheart.”, he asks, his voice warm and soft. He really hopes you can’t hear the lovesick undertone.

“I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask.”, you explain and grin self-conscious. He wants to lick the awkwardness off your lips (whoa okay, he really needs to get his thoughts in check).

Instead of doing that like a total creep, he tells you: “You can ask whatever you want, sweetheart. We’ll see what I can answer.”

You nod and think again. So far you haven’t protested his continued use of petnames. He enjoys it, enjoys claiming you with words in a subtle way. The only thing he’d enjoy even more would be you claiming him back. With words, marks, a collar, anything as long as he gets to be yours.

By now you’re walking closely besides him, and every now and then your arms brush against each other. It sends a shock up his arm every time, makes his neck tingle and his jaw clench in an effort to hold back, to not overwhelm you. The last thing he wants is to fuck up with you. As much as he wants to hold you he’d rather endure torture again than make you uncomfortable by coming on too strong.

“Why did you retire?”, you finally ask. “You don’t have to answer if you’d rather not!”, you immediately add in the same breath and Simon chuckles a bit at that.

The way you’re glancing at him seems nervous. It’s oddly endearing, like you’re nervous of misstepping with him. He quite enjoys that look on your face. Making you nervous in a way that doesn’t stem from fear is weirdly thrilling and he wants to keep doing it (would you be nervous if he pushed you up against a tree? If he used his height to his advantage and had you at his mercy? Would you be nervous if you had him at your mercy? God, he wants to be at your mercy).

“’s alright, sweets. Had a mission that went south, can’t really go into details. After that they set us up with a comfortable new life and told us to start over.” He can see the curiousness plain as day in your eyes and he wants to kick the officials who’re keeping him from just telling you everything.

Maybe someday he’ll do it anyway. Fuck if anyone can dictate him what to talk about. He’ll definitely tell you someday. Once he’s yours and sure you won’t run from him for revealing his past.

You cock your head at that. “Can you tell me about your team?”, you ask instead of prying and he could kiss you for that alone (he’s not sure he could have denied you, had you asked with your sweet voice and big curious eyes).

He nods at you and your face practically lights up with a big smile at the opportunity to finally get more info. He’s tempted to tell you every single confidential thing he knows, just to see you light up like that again.

“The lads are all in town. We’re four. Johnny, the fucker, owns a bakery. Flirts with everyone that comes in. People dig the accent.”, he begins and you perk up.

“Accent? It’s not the Scottish one, is it? What was his name…”, you seem to wrack your brain for it. “Mac…. Mac…”

“MacTavish.”, Simon supplies and you beam at him.

“I know that guy! His bread is to die for.”, you claim and Simon can’t really tell you that he already knows you frequent his friends bakery (he might have seen you there when he went to visit Johnny at work; might have worked out the times you go to Johnny’s and visited him more often around that time).

“He seems really nice but…”, you trail off and when you don’t continue Simon gently nudges you with his elbow to go on (you don't seem bothered by the contact, and he's surprised by himself for daring to do that so casually), curious what you might have to say about Johnny. You hesitate.

“Go on, sweetheart.”, he urges gently.

 “… he kinda intimidates me.”, you finally admit and suddenly Simon is grinning like the cat that caught the canary. Johnny intimidates you. Who would have ever guessed.

Johnny, who only recently teased him that ‘the cutie’ would never warm up to him because of his scary mask, intimidates you. Yet scary Simon is the one you’re taking a stroll in the park with. He desperately wants to rub it in Johnny’s face.

“Don’t tell your friend about it, but I can’t ever seem to remember his name. My friends and I refer to him as MacFlurry.”, you add, blushing but grinning mischievously.

Simon stares at you for a second and he can see the smile slowly drop and the apology forming on your lips when he starts laughing. He clutches his ribs, doubling over. Oh he’s gonna have so much fun with this information.

After a few seconds your laughter joins his as you’re helplessly giggling along, his booming laughter infectious.

“That…”, he laughs. “That’s great. Fucking MacFlurry.” He practically wheezes in laughter. Shit, he wants to marry you. Right here, right now.

Your giggle is beautiful and slightly bashful. Simon wishes he could catch it in a jar so he might listen to the heavenly sound again and again.

Finally he catches his breath and straightens up a bit, his eyes are twinkling, creases all around them from smiling so widely. He wants to tug you in close and thank you for existing.

“You know, sweetheart, I could always introduce you to MacFlurry and the others. We’re meeting up this evening. Wanna tag along?”, he blurts out before he can reconsider and your eyes grow wide and alarmed.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 12

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

It was as if some protective membrane had been torn away and everything that he had not let himself feel was exposed behind the rupture.

this is a beautifully written sentence

He had nothing left to hold it back, only this raw, terrible feeling, of being denied family.

it’s interesting how he takes this as being denied family. it’s less of a literal denial, and more of him reckoning with the reality he’s been avoiding for the entire series: his father and kastor were/are incredibly flawed people, and in kastor’s case actively committed/attempted familicide. it’s less the denial of family itself and more the denial of the family he thought he had, and the ideal of family being loyal and dependable. that same disillusionment must have happened to laurent when auguste died and the regent started mistreating him.

In his life, he had known only one parent. His father had been to him a set of ideals, a man he looked up to, and strove to please, a standard against whom he measured himself. Since his father’s death, he had not allowed himself to think or feel anything but determination that he would return, that he would see his home again, and restore himself to the throne.

okay i think i kinda hinted at some mild criticism of king’s rising in my last set of annotations, and a some people agreed in that it seems like she had an editor and was writing to be traditionally published. i think i see that here. i don’t think captive prince or prince’s gambit pacat would have spelled this out here, as clearly as she does. it’s well-written, but also something we could easily understand between the lines. it almost feels less effective this way, although that’s partially because i’m so used to a certain style and approach from the author.

Now he felt as if he stood in front of his father, felt his father’s hand in his hair, as he never would again. He had wanted his father to be proud of him; and had failed him, in the end.

yeah, i’m sorry, but this feels really out of place. both in terms of the writing and the fact that it’s included at all. feels like some editor was like “you need to spell it out for the casual readers who are just interested in the porn if you want the scene to be effective.” the turns of phrase are a little trite and the entire thing just seems so… obvious? maybe i’m being too harsh, but i am curious what others think.

Laurent said, ‘No. I’m not here to—’ He said, ‘I’m just here.’

this is a lovely line. laurent knows damen thinks his presence is a call to action, but wants him to know he’s safe and can just exist. a little bit of a reversal between them.

Laurent, he realised, had guarded his solitude for him. And his people, fearing the fierce, strange foreign prince, had done as Laurent ordered, and stayed out. He was stupidly, profoundly grateful for that.

again with the reversal—similar to what happened after aimeric/nicaise

Before he could, he felt Laurent’s fingers on the back of his neck, a shock of touch that caught him in a tumult of confusion as it drew him forward, simply. It was, from Laurent, slightly awkward; sweet; rare; stiff with obvious inexperience. If he had been offered this as an adult, he couldn’t remember it.

<3 i still think we’re getting a lot spelled out for us, but it’s so lovely here that i don’t mind.

‘Now you are taking advantage of my kind-hearted instincts,’ Laurent said, a murmur into his ear.

:)

He let his lips form a half-smile. ‘You aren’t going to offer me one of your gaudy Veretian handkerchiefs?’ ‘You could use the clothing you’re wearing. It’s about the same size.’ ‘Your poor Veretian sensibilities. All those wrists and ankles.’ ‘And arms and thighs and every other part.’ ‘My father’s dead.’

YEP THIS IS GREAT. love how it takes this swift u-turn away from their usual banter. we know these characters and how they usually speak, so this is effective on its own

The words had a finality to them.

... so we don’t need this! we GET that finality from the way they heavily contrast with the light banter and stop it abruptly with "my father's dead."

His father was buried in Akielos beneath the columned halls of the silent, where the pain and confusion of his last days would never trouble him again.

this might be giving us a little hint of damen almost wanting to be dead himself? in the sense that it would be peaceful, to not have to deal with this bullshit. he hasn't grown up having these kinds of feelings acknowledged so he's unprepared to cope with them now.

‘You thought he was a warmonger. An aggressive, war-hungry king, who invaded your country on the flimsiest of pretexts, hungry for land and the glory of Akielos.’ ‘No,’ said Laurent. ‘We don’t have to do this now.’

laurent doesn’t disagree. the “no” is for “i’m not letting you do this yourself emotionally.” and laurent would know all about torturing himself with harsh realities about dead people during intimate and vulnerable moments, so that’s really saying something

‘A barbarian,’ said Damen, ‘with barbaric ambitions, fit only to rule by the sword. You hated him.’ ‘I hated you,’ said Laurent. ‘I hated you so badly I thought I’d choke on it. If my uncle hadn’t stopped me, I would have killed you. And then you saved my life, and every time I needed you, you were there, and I hated you for that, too.’ ‘I killed your brother.’

this feels a little bit like a summary, but i’ll allow it since they’re having an honest conversation while knowing each other fully for like the first time. do you think this is the chapter that was edited/pitched to publishers first? i don’t know exactly how publishing works, but it does feel just kind of weird

‘What are you doing here?’ Damen said.

i like how we get some insecurity from damen here. we don’t see it often, like this. he is surprised that laurent wants him, even while he is being vulnerable. i’d say it’s a toxic masculinity thing, but in the context of this world it’s more of a toxic royalty thing

Laurent said, ‘I know what it’s like to lose family.’

(as an answer to “what are you doing here?”) i get what this is trying to say, i think. laurent is looking past his anger at damen for auguste and offering him empathy, even though damen caused the tragedy that allows laurent to be empathetic in this case. it still feels… slightly off, though. maybe it’s even the fact that damen asked in the first place. maybe it’s the fact that laurent answered verbally. so much between them has been unspoken thus far, and i don’t see why that needs to change, even though they’re in a more supportive relationship. that can be implicit, too. and that unspoken understanding makes it even more intimate and distinctly Them.

‘Is there no way forward for us?’ said Damen. It just came out. Beside him, he could feel Laurent holding himself very still. ‘You mean, will I come back to your bed for the little time we have left?’ ‘I mean that we hold the centre. We hold everything from Acquitart to Sicyon. Can we not call it a kingdom and rule it together? Am I such a poorer prospect than a Patran princess, or a daughter of the Empire?’

he mentions unification so casually, which is both rewarding to the reader who has been screaming it for chapters but also kind of… annoying? i don’t know, so much of this feels in service of the imminent sex scene. kind of rushed or dumbed down. so much tension has been meticulously built, and they’ve had sex under far less resolved conditions. here it’s almost like there’s a checklist of Things Damen and Laurent Have to Agree On/Share About Themselves Emotionally Before They Can Satisfyingly Fuck For The First Time As Themselves. but like, these bitches are messy. always have been, always will be. and they’ve always BEEN themselves. to just try to quickly resolve and drop the mess feels inconsistent, and makes the execution of the sex less unique and ironically more shallow, maybe

When he made himself look at Laurent, Laurent’s eyes on him were very dark, his voice quiet. ‘How can you trust me, after what your own brother did to you?’ ‘Because he was false,’ said Damen, ‘and you are true. I have never known a truer man.’ He said, into the stillness, ‘I think if I gave you my heart, you would treat it tenderly.’

contrast to what he’s learned about his family—kastor and his father, because the negative things he said about his father as if laurent believes them are also things damen has come to believe.

it’s a sweet line. and kind of insane, given everything laurent has done. but i think it works, because we know damen has been like this about laurent from the start. and we also know its difficult for laurent to believe or accept that anyone would want to trust him with their heart. i wish we could have had this interaction be spoken, but with FAR less of the previous conversation here. start the scene with laurent entering, have them comfort each other physically but unable to speak. or speak around the subject, instead of hitting the nail on the head. then give them this extremely direct moment, and it would be a lot more effective.

listen i’m not saying i’m better or smarter or anything, it is ultimately a matter of taste and i’ve been taking a break from the books. but i have done a VERY CLOSE READING of this series so far, so i feel at least somewhat capable of analyzing it in this way. if that makes sense.

Laurent turned his head, denying Damen his face.

this doesn’t feel like a pacat line. the construction of it does, but i feel like she’d say something far less direct and far more poetic than “denying his face”

Damen could see his breathing. After a moment he said in a low voice, ‘When you make love to me like that, I can’t think.’ ‘Don’t think,’ said Damen. Damen saw the flickering change, the tension, as the words provoked an internal battle. Damen said, ‘Don’t think.’ ‘Don’t,’ said Laurent, ‘toy with me. I—have not the means to—defend against this.’ ‘I don’t toy with you.’ ‘I—’ ‘Don’t think,’ said Damen. ‘Kiss me,’ said Laurent. And then flushed, a rich colour. Don’t think, Damen had said, but Laurent couldn’t do that. Even to sit there after what he had said, he was fighting a battle in his head. The words hung awkwardly, a blurt, but Laurent didn’t take them back, he just waited, his body singing with tension. Instead of leaning in, Damen took Laurent’s hand, brought it towards himself, and kissed his palm, once.

yeah.

He had learned in the course of their one night together to tell when Laurent was taken unawares—taken aback. It wasn’t easy to anticipate, the gaps in Laurent’s experience not mapping to anything that he understood. He felt it now, Laurent’s eyes very dark, uncertain of what he should do. ‘I meant—’ ‘Don’t let you think?’ Laurent didn’t answer.

this is. such an interesting way to bring in previous themes of consent and submission. bc this is by all means consensual, but laurent is almost asking damen to just take what he wants, because his anxiety is so bad that he doesn’t really WANT to be asked what he wants or made to initiate. it's submission willingly given because laurent trusts damen, both in terms of seeing and understanding his weakness here and in taking care of his pleasure. laurent asking outright to not have to be strong in this situation, and trusting damen to treat him well while his guard is down. trusting him with his heart, just as damen has sworn to trust laurent with his.

Laurent’s wariness was not, at this moment, the high walls of the defended citadel. It was that of a man with a portion of his guard down, who was desperately unused to it.

After a moment: ‘At Ravenel, I—it had been a long time since I had—with anyone. I was nervous.’ ‘I know,’ said Damen. ‘There has,’ said Laurent. He stopped. ‘There has only been one other person.’ Softly, ‘I’m a little more experienced than that.’ ‘Yes, that is immediately apparent.’ ‘Is it?’ A little pleased. ‘Yes.’

THIS is lamen dialogue. so much unsaid, and it’s perfect, because we know what it’s all implying.

‘Laurent, I’d never hurt you.’ He heard Laurent’s strange, disbelieving breath, and he realised what he had said. ‘I know,’ said Damen, ‘that I did hurt you.’ Laurent’s motionlessness was careful, even his breathing was careful. He didn’t turn back to look at Damen. ‘I hurt you, Laurent.’ ‘That’s enough, stop,’ said Laurent. ‘It wasn’t right. You were just a boy. You didn’t deserve what happened to you.’ ‘I said that’s enough.’ ‘Is it so hard to hear?’

big moment for damen, realizing he did something to hurt laurent and admitting it. this has been building for a while with his guilt about his father and slavery and everything else akielos stands for. damen has always lied to himself, a lot. he almost treats this scene like a confession.

on the laurent side of things: this is damen admitting he was wrong, but still wanting to be better. i think that confuses laurent, to think that anyone would ever want to treat him well when they’re strong enough to hurt him. also, this is just generally intense for laurent, but he's still here despite his discomfort because he cares about damen.

this entire scene really is just an insane amount of honesty and vulnerability from them both. it's quick to overwhelm laurent, while damen seems to be getting kind of addicted to it and wanting more. which he gets, in more ways than one.

He thought of Auguste, thought how no boy deserved to lose his brother.

interesting line for a guy who ends up almost being murdered by his stepbrother and gets saved by his divorce husband, whose brother he killed, killing his stepbrother

He didn’t understand the forces that moved in Laurent, but some instinct pushed him to say it. ‘My first time, there was a lot of rolling around. I was eager and had no idea what to do. It’s not like Vere, we don’t watch people doing it in public.’ He said, ‘I still get too caught up near the end. I know I forget myself.’

awww :) he’s trying to make him feel less awkward. this is such a setting-transcendent moment. anyone would say something like this, whether in this weird horny semi historical fictional society or any other romance setting. "you're new to this, but so was i. and i still have my flaws."

A silence. It went on too long. He didn’t disturb it, watching the tense line of Laurent’s body.

love the patience here

‘When you kissed me,’ said Laurent, pushing the words out, ‘I liked it. When you took me in your mouth, it was the first time that I had . . . done that.’ He said, ‘I liked it when you—’

he’s so brave for saying this. i’m not being sarcastic. go laurent

Laurent’s reaction to kissing had always been complex: tense; vulnerable; hot. The tension was the greatest part of it, as though this single act was too much for him, too extreme. And yet, he had asked for it. Kiss me.

as always, the way laurent is not a normal romantic interest but still deeply loved and respected narratively makes me feel so happy. gives me hope etc

Don’t think, he’d said, because it was easier than saying, Take me for who I am. He couldn’t bear that suddenly. He wanted it without pretences, without excuses, his fingers curling hard into Laurent’s hair.

love this evolution. damen desperately wants laurent to be here and thinking, and knowing him, and still letting himself want this. again, with the almost addiction to honesty between them. he's getting swept up in it.

‘It’s me,’ said Damen. ‘It’s me, here with you. Say my name.’ ‘Damianos.’ He felt the sundering in Laurent at that, the name an admission, a statement of truth that came out of him, Laurent open to him with nothing to hide behind. He could hear it in Laurent’s voice. Prince-killer.

He wanted it, felt a surge of purely selfish desire as he thought of it, that Laurent knew it was him. That Laurent wanted this with him.

we know. this could have been left out.

It was subsumed, as it had to be, into the act of kissing. His body felt heavy, one form of penetration substituted for another, the tremors in Laurent not that of a single barrier crumbling, but shudders as though one after another were being brought down, each place unexplored, each place deeper than the last. Prince-killer.

so is this kind of meant to conjure the image of damen taking auguste down, right? breaking down defenses, penetration, etc. prince killer as in murderer, but he’s also killing laurent as in like. “lady-killer ;)”

He felt acutely aware that he was half on his back, naked, with Laurent fully clothed, astride, still wearing his polished boots and the high-necked, tightly laced collar of his jacket. It was a sudden, vulnerable fantasy that Laurent might simply get up and wander off, strolling the rooms, or sit in the chair opposite to sip wine with his legs crossed, while Damen was left exposed on the bed.

yeah damen, you WOULD be into that

Laurent didn’t do that. Laurent lifted his hands to his own neck. His eyes on Damen’s, slowly, he took up one of the tight-laced ties at his throat, and drew on it.

the EYE CONTACT!!!

In the dim light, Auguste was between them, sharp as a knife. The scar on his shoulder was the last thing Auguste had done before Damen had killed him. The kiss was like a wound, as if to do it Laurent was impaling himself on that knife. There was an edge of desperation to it, Laurent kissing like he needed it, his fingers clutching, his body unsteady.

it really feels like this should be cut at “wound.” maybe continue with a much more brief “laurent impaled himself.” we can MAKE the connection that it’s like he’s stabbing himself on this figurative thing, but doing it anyway because he wants it. it doesn’t need to be written out, it’s already on the page between the lines! it is SO bizarre to me that pacat's style has changed in this way in seemingly just this one chapter. maybe it's because i stepped away for a while, but honestly i can't see how i couldn't NOT have a sort of sixth sense for recognizing these weird moments given the amount of detail i've put into my analysis and reading. again, your thoughts are definitely appreciated.

He kissed back knowing it hurt him, hurt them both. There was a desperation in both of them, an aching need that could not be filled, and he could feel it in Laurent, the same unconscious striving.

another example of “we don’t need the second the sentence because the first already says it!!” i seriously suspect that this scene was written way more raw at first but an editor was like “you have to make it a lot more clear they both want it/they’re chill with each other over and over again so it’s not too vague”

another alternate explanation could be the chapter's overarching theme of abundant honestly, like almost an overwhelming amount of it, but i still don't think that explains the change in like, craft. there's a difference between characters changing their behavior through development or to make a thematic point, and the narrative itself shifting in how it tells the story. and while damen is kind of going from the extreme of lying to himself about everything to craving this truth, it's still strange to read, and feels like a very intense departure from their previous scenes together.

In a burst of explicit fantasy, he wished Laurent were a pet, or a slave, wished him a body that was not going to require extensive, coaxing preparation before it could be penetrated.

“you like it simple” flashbacks

i think both laurent and damen have moments of wanting this, but ultimately care far more for the more complicated and real parts of their relationship and selves. that was a lot of my chapter 7 analysis re-write. part of what i love about this pairing is that it's really not that much about the sex for them, which is highly ironic given gestures vaguely to the story and world. true intimacy between them has been in their conversations, their little sidequests together and the way they've connected intellectually and emotionally despite literally every odd being against that happening. it's in the way they are equals, and choose to devote themselves mutually, whether it's through despising or adoring each other. anyone can fuck; and especially in this series, almost everyone does. whatever damen and laurent do is wayyy more insane and complicated and interesting and real than that.

He wanted to be inside. He wanted to feel Laurent’s surrender shudder and give way, become total. He wanted no denying that Laurent had let him in, who he had let in. It’s me. His body primed, as though only in one act could this be driven home.

(heads up, i talk pretty explicitly about sexual assault and rape in the following paragraphs)

see, i don’t get how THAT is the ultimate sign of laurent "letting damen in." because anyone could fuck anyone if they’re powerful enough, right? that’s the whole tragedy of laurent, he sees himself as weak because this has been done to him before without his consent. i guess the surrender is in admitting he wants it, which does make sense with how everything has been set up. laurent has been assaulted and harassed and objectified by countless people, but damen is the only one he’s even given enthusiastic consent, so yeah i guess it is the ultimate sign of uhhhh accomplishment, for damen? for lack of a better word. but that still just feels OFF to me. the emotions and the logic of it.

i understand that there is a raw sort of honesty to sex; a body's natural response, fairly disconnected from morality or reason. damen has experienced that for laurent from the very start, and it's gotten him into trouble before. but despite that, he isn't a character who experiences shame about having those feelings, like, ever. the man had sex slaves, after all. he is horny despite the horrors, that's his thing.

i guess where i struggle is in, myself, thinking that the kind of primal sexual honesty here is real or meaningful in the same way the aforementioned emotional and intellectual intimacy are. like, there's something here that just bothers me. maybe it's the way damen is so swept up in the "honesty" of laurent letting himself be fucked, as a totally good and amazing and real thing. i get how damen might feel that way, but it's like, did the regent not also feel those same kinds of feelings, and act on them? if laurent had any kind of bodily response to his own assault, was that bodily honesty his emotional or intellectual truth? is it any different from the bodily honesty damen is appreciating here? this line of thinking is a common way that people convince others that they wanted or deserved their assault. i know damen is like deeply unqualified to understand that, and i know that laurent does want it and damen cares for him deeply, but i guess i almost feel protective of laurent in this moment, with the way damen is thinking during this scene.

all of the terrible people in this series who do so many things without consent, to degrade and disempower others or simply because they think they're entitled to it, are acting on the same primal urges as damen in this scene. what makes damen different from them, the entire reason laurent trusts damen enough to LET him do this, is the fact that damen respects laurent beyond those primal urges, and sees him as a person and not an object. raw sexual desire, by contrast, is just... simple.

i get a little lost here as a reader because, like laurent, i need to intellectualize everything always. i do not like it simple, often to my own detriment, admittedly. it’s hard for me to amend the idea of this like unmitigated desire for sexual honesty/vulnerability with damen genuinely respecting laurent, even though i know he does and that’s literally the entire point, that the two things can coexist and this is romantic and powerful because somehow they do. i can suspend my disbelief while reading this in fiction, but it’s harder to rationalize or understand based on my own experiences, and my knowledge of the real world. trusting another person with vulnerability is horrifying and the series knows it, but is trying to offer a strong rebuttal in the way damen and laurent love each other.

maybe it's just that in this scene, i'm not totally sold. or something.

‘Do it, I told you, I don’t care—’

there is a little part of me that’s like “uh is this what a person who really wants to be doing this would say??” but also i know damn well that i'm projecting so go off king i guess????

maybe i would have been more satisfied by this scene if damen did not fuck laurent here and now. i don't know. this analysis is poor, unobjective, confused and hypocritical. but i'm not struggling with it in a fun or enriching way, like with chapter 7, it just makes me feel kinda bad. so i'm pushing through.

He was inside Laurent. It felt raw and unprotected. He had never felt more like himself: Laurent had let him inside, knowing who he was.

yes. WE KNOW.

Damen’s grip, still oiled, was wrapped around the hottest, most honest part of Laurent.

“most honest part” yeah that pretty much sums up what makes me weird about this scene. the way damen DELIGHTS in the primal honesty of it all, beneath laurent’s carefully constructed defenses. i guess just, its been so nice reading damen being so respectful of laurent’s hesitations and boundaries, and therefore falling for his personality and intellect and genuinely growing to understand and respect him without the promise of submission or sex, so the framing of this being damen finally getting what he REALLY wanted from laurent the whole time is… kind of rough to read. like oh, this is REALLY intimacy. this is the height of it. but it's not. like, at all.

damen is not me, and i get that. but in previous times where damen has done shit i've felt weird about, i've never felt like the narrative has been poking at me to approve of it or feel positive catharsis. but this entire scene is so heavily written to be this great moment of celebration and positive catharsis, for protagonist and reader alike. but what are we even celebrating here? we're celebrating the honesty between damen and laurent about their identities, and the fact that they support each other anyway. given how much baggage they both have about sex, i almost feel like it would be a more effective scene if they DIDN'T fuck. like, laurent just hugging damen was beautiful. that kind of simple comfort, not inherently sexual, was unusual to damen. and therefore impactful. but noooo, the sex is supposed to be the pinnacle, and we made the way for it with some weirdly written overly explanatory dialogue shoved at the start of the scene. to be fair, damen does literally say, 'I still get too caught up near the end. I know I forget myself.’ which is kind of what I've just described happening.

i just don't think i am where the book wants me to be, with how i react to that. it's an odd feeling. i feel like everyone is going to read this and be like "wow she has issues, she's insane, you're supposed to like that he forgets himself and is consumed by his desires." but oh well. i usually don't enjoy the romance genre for a reason.

this series really does challenge my own ability to let simple desire coexist with the proven need to be highly intentional and thoughtful in caring about/interacting with others. it’s hard for me to believe those two things can be in harmony—that you can be honest and vulnerable, and not either be hurting someone, getting hurt by someone, enabling someone else’s self-harm, or hurting yourself.

i suppose some of the catharsis of this scene is that laurent and damen are doing this together, KNOWING they have hurt each other. that they will always have that between them, yet also knowing and trusting that they can and will treat each other well.

it’s just hard for me to see that as anything other than fantasy. it's not honest, it's not real, in the way i've come to understand those concepts both in my personal ethos and the ethos of the series. so this entire scene built around honesty as a theme just kind of falls flat. it’s tragic, really, that damen is so happy about this apparent truth between them when he is unaware of the very blatant and relevant reality of laurent’s history with sexual assault. it’s a powerful scene, but not for the reasons damen thinks it’s powerful. maybe pacat meant for that to be the case, maybe she didn’t, maybe editing made it weird. who knows.

but it is, as i’ve said in previous chapter analysis posts, a nice fantasy. i'm glad if it hits for other readers, and i respect that cs pacat put it here for a reason. maybe someday i'll re-read it and react differently.

[wonderswritings]

Starless Lovers {12}

Summary: They fell from the sky. We roamed the earth. We were always meant to clash. 

Warnings: The 100 Themes, Angst, Death, Blood, Unrequited Feelings, Slow Burn, Possibly more to come

Pairings: Lexa x Sister!Reader, Bellamy Blake x Fem!Reader (eventual)

War was brewing. But with the defeat of Mount Weather, that war is now over. We’re living in peace now. And Skaikru is no longer the enemy. It’s time we learn,

Blood must not have blood.

Starless Lovers Masterlist | Tags

Updates every Saturday

Season 3 has officially started! Thank you all for being so patient with me and I hope you enjoy season 3! 🩵

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Five Days after Mount Weather

“How is she?”

Abby looked up at Bellamy from where she sat behind the desk, humming softly in response.

“Riheda?”

Bellamy slightly clenched his jaw at the use of your title as he nodded, walking further into Abby’s office.

“Yes.”

“She’s fine, from what I can tell.”

“What you can tell?”

Bellamy made a face as he tilted his head to the side, scoffing slightly.

“What does that even mean? She was injured in Mount Weather."

Abby sighed as she lowered the tablet she was looking at, looking up at Bellamy.

“It means that since she’s woke, she refuses to let anyone touch her. It’s too dangerous to let anyone near her. She’s too dangerous.”

Bellamy shook his head, huffing.

“She’s not an animal. She isn’t dangerous. She's alone and hurt."

“She is. She is a gro-”

Bellamy turned, walking out of Abby’s office before she could continue. He glared as he walked down the halls of the Ark, making his way to medical. He stopped outside of medical, looking in, seeing you laying on one of the medical cots in the far corner of medical, alone. He took a deep breath before he walked towards the door, opening it and walking into medical. He looked up, seeing you already looking at him, watching him as he walked towards you, stopping at the end of the cot.

“Hey.”

You said nothing as you looked at Bellamy, causing him to sigh softly.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been to visit you since… since everything. We’ve been uh, busy.”

Bellamy sighed softly when you said nothing, looking you over when he saw the straps around your wrists, causing him to make a face.

“Why are you tied down?”

You lowered your gaze to your wrists, your voice low as you spoke.

“I’m dangerous.”

Bellamy scoffed, shaking his head.

“No, you’re not.”

He moved to your side, reaching down and undoing the straps around the wrist closest to him before he reached over and undid the other strap.

“Thank you.”

Bellamy nodded as he watched you rub your wrists.

“You’re welcome. How are… how are you feeling?”

“Fine.”

"And your injuries? Do you need anything for them? Medicine or-"

"Fine."

You looked up at Bellamy as you cut him off, slightly tilting your head to the side.

“I want to go home.”

Bellamy sighed softly as you avoided his questions, nodding.

“I know.”

“Then can I? Go home?”

Bellamy made a face, looking down at you.

“It uh- that’s not something- it’s not up to me. But I- I’ll ask, okay? I’ll ask.”

Bellamy turned, walking towards the door when you called out to him, causing him to turn, looking back at you.

“My sister and my people may believe that I am dead, Bellamy, but I’m not dead. I will not be kept here against my will.” 

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Two Weeks after Mount Weather

You were walking next to Bellamy as was the norm now as he would come by everyday and walk with you around medical, as redundant as it was. He said it would help with your injuries, but you disagreed, telling him he was wasting his time.

“You know, when I said I wanted to go home, I meant it.”

Bellamy nodded as he cut a glance down at you.

“I know.”

“So then why am I still here?”

“It’s uh… it’s complicated.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“It’s always complicated. You give the same answer every time I ask.”

“Because it’s the only answer I have.”

You came to a stop, causing Bellamy to make a face as he stopped, turning back and looking down at you.

“What are you-”

“I helped you and your people.”

You shook your head, clenching your jaw as you looked up at Bellamy, glaring slightly.

“I risked my life for your people and you repay me by keeping me captive.”

“It-”

You took a step closer to Bellamy, looking up at him, anger in your eyes.

“Your people look at me like I’m a monster.”

Bellamy shook his head, trying to come up with the right words as he stumbled over his words.

“They don’t- that’s not-”

“They do! You are the only one who doesn’t look at me with fear. You are the only one who treats me like I am a person and not a feral animal.”

You shook your head, turning on your heel and walking back towards your cot, laying down, turning your head to the side, looking away from Bellamy as you spoke.

“You should leave.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Four Weeks after Mount Weather

You were laying in the cot in medical when you heard the door swoosh open, followed by footsteps. You turned your head, seeing Bellamy walking towards you, a small smile on his face.

“Come on.”

You made a face, looking up at him.

“What?”

“Come with me.”

“Bellamy I can’t-”

“I talked it over with the others. You don’t have to stay here, in medical. So, come with me.”

Bellamy held his hand out towards you, a small smile on his face.

“Don’t you want to get out of here?”

You looked down at his hand and back up at his face a few times, unsure of his intentions before you nodded slightly. Bellamy’s smile grew, though it fell slightly when you ignored his outstretched hand and stood from the cot yourself. You looked up at Bellamy, slightly tilting your head to the side.

“Where are we going?”

He lowered his hand, trying to ignore the strange feeling he felt as he looked down at you.

“Well, are you hungry? We can go to the cafeteria and get some food and we can eat it outside, if you’d like.”

You nodded slightly.

“Okay.”

Bellamy nodded, and he motioned for you to follow him. Walking out of medical, you couldn’t help but look around, taking in more of the place Skaikru called home. Last time you were here, you couldn’t really take the time to look, but now you had the time to take it all in.

“Does everything look like this?”

Bellamy looked down at you, confused as he watched you look around.

“Like what?”

You tilted your head to the side, trying to find the right words before you settled on the one that described how you’d felt since you had woken up in medical.

“Cold.”

Bellamy smirked slightly as you both turned out of the hall that led to medical.

“You get used to it.”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“I don’t want to get used to it. I want to go home.”

Bellamy nodded slightly.

“I know.”

You turned your head, looking up at him.

“Then let me leave. Please, I need to go home. I need to be with Lexa and Reina, with my people. Please Bellamy, teik ai gon we.” (let me leave)

Bellamy looked down at the hand you placed in his arm, slightly shaking his head.

“I’m sorry. It’s not my decision.”

He nodded towards the door.

“Come on, the cafeteria is this way.”

You followed Bellamy, looking down at the floor. Once inside you lifted your head, tensing. Everyone that was in the room was staring at you, a mixture of emotions on their face as some whispered. You jumped when a hand was placed on your lower back, looking up and seeing Bellamy standing closer to you, nodding.

“Come on.”

Bellamy kept his hand on your lower back as he led you forward, walking closer to you than before.

“They- they’re all staring at me.”

Bellamy nodded slightly.

“You’re a grounder, the grounder. A lot of them have mixed feelings about you and your people.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I have mixed feelings about them but you don’t see me glaring and talking about them.”

Bellamy chuckled, nodding.

“I know. Just don’t pay them any attention. They’ll get over themselves.”

After getting some food, Bellamy led you outside, taking you to a shaded area so you both could eat. You looked around the camp before you glanced at Bellamy.

“Can I ask you something?”

Bellamy nodded, looking over at you.

“Course. You can ask me anything, within reason of course."

“My knife and my sword. Where are they?”

“Uh, they’re put up, safe.”

You tilted your head to the side, giving Bellamy a deadpanned look. 

“Safe.”

Bellamy nodded, grabbing his cup.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I know that they’re important to you. But they don’t want to give them back to you until they know that you won’t use them against anyone here.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Yes, because I’m such a danger after I risked my life for your people.”

Bellamy smirked, nodding.

“Yeah, you’re a total danger magnet.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Six Weeks after Mount Weather

“Where are we going?”

Bellamy grinned slightly.

“I told you, you’ll find out when we get there.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes.

“I hate surprises.”

“That’s okay. This isn’t a surprise, it’s more-”

Bellamy paused, tilting his head to the side, grinning.

“Of a new adventure.”

You shot Bellamy a deadpanned look, shaking your head.

“It’s a surprise. No matter how you word it."

Bellamy laughed as he came to a stop in front of a door, nodding.

“Come on, you’ll like this one, I swear.”

He opened the door, motioning for you to enter. You sighed softly as you walked past Bellamy and into the room, looking around.

“Is this-”

You tilted your head to the side looking back at Bellamy as he walked in, closing the door.

“Is this your room?”

Bellamy nodded.

“Yeah, it is. Now sit down.”

You made a face, tilting your head to the side as you looked around for somewhere to sit.

“Where-”

“On the bed.”

Bellamy lightly pushed you forward towards his bed, causing you to huff as you walked towards his bed, sitting on the edge of the bed, tense. You watched Bellamy walk through another door before he came back, carrying something in his hands before he walked towards you, handing it to you.

“What is it?”

“Take it and find out.”

You rolled your eyes slightly, taking it from Bellamy, placing it in your lap as you undid the knot, pulling the fabric to the side, gasping softly.

“My knife and sword.”

You pulled your knife out of the scabbard, running your fingers over the intricate design on the handle.

“You had them this entire time?”

Bellamy hummed softly.

“You gave them to Clarke in Mount Weather before you turned yourself over and she gave them to me before she left. Abby wanted to take them, but I hid them before she could.”

“But you said they didn’t trust me. So it was really you who didn’t trust me?”

Bellamy shook his head, moving to kneel down in front of you, looking up at you.

“I trust you. It wasn’t my trust that you needed to earn. You already had it.”

“Oh.”

Bellamy smirked softly, nodding.

“Yeah ‘oh’. And besides, I wanted to give them back to you when you were ready.”

You made a face, finally lifting your gaze, looking at Bellamy.

“When I was ready? I’ve been ready. I’ve been bugging you about them for weeks now.”

“Mhmm, I know. But I meant what I said. I wanted to give them back when you were ready. I know how important they are to you.”

You nodded slightly.

“I really only care about the knife.”

You looked back down at the knife, carefully sliding it back into the scabbard.

“It was… it was Sato’s.”

Bellamy tilted his head to the side.

“Sato?”

You nodded, humming softly.

“Sato was… he was my…”

Trying to come up with the right words, you settled for the only thing that could describe him.

“He was mine.”

You glanced at Bellamy.

“He was in Tondc when Finn massacred the village.”

“I’m sorry.”

You clenched your jaw slightly, shaking your head.

“I do not need your apologies, Bellamy Blake.”

Bellamy’s eyes widened slightly at the full use of his name, nodding.

“Okay. There’s something else.”

“Something else?”

You tilted your head to the side, looking at him as he nodded.

“They’ve agreed to let you leave, to let you go home. They’ve agreed to take you back, not all the way, but they’re letting you leave.”

“Truly?”

Bellamy smiled softly, nodding.

“I wouldn’t lie to you. I would never lie to you.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Eight Weeks after Mount Weather

The plan was to leave for Tondc, but before you and the others could leave, the sound of horns sounded, and one of the guards at the gate said that a group of grounders had made camp outside the walls. You had perked up, rushing out of the Ark, seeing two riders approach the gate. The Skaikru guards opened the gate as Bellamy and the others appeared behind you, the two riders looking down, their eyes widening when they saw you. They quickly dismounted their horses, kneeling, placing a balled fist over their chest as they lowered their heads.

“Riheda.”

“Chomouda are yu hir?” (why are you here?)

“The commander wishes to meet with the leader of Skaikru.”

Your eyes widened when Indra spoke, not seeing her since your attention was on the riders. She stepped forward when you did, meeting you halfway as you hugged her, Indra speaking low enough for just you to hear.

“Em ste os sin yu in nodotaim.” (it is good to see you again)

“Yu seintaim.” (you too)

“Indra.”

You let Indra go, stepping to the side and turning, watching as Kane stepped forward.

“Why does the commander want to meet?”

Indra didn’t take her eyes off of you as she answered Kane.

“Peace. She is proposing peace.”

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Twenty minutes later, you were walking out of Arkadia’s gates for the first time since you were brought here two months ago.

“Are you nervous?”

You glanced up at Bellamy, slightly making a face.

“Nervous? Why would I be nervous?”

Bellamy smiled slightly.

“Because you haven’t seen your sister in two months.”

You shook your head slightly.

“I am not nervous. I am excited.”

Bellamy nodded, looking down at you.

“I’m sure you are.”

You and Bellamy followed behind Abby and Kane, Indra and the riders leading the way to the tent. Your group came to a stop, things being said that you paid no attention to, practically bouncing in place as you tried to look around the others, trying to spot your sister. You looked up at Bellamy when he nudged you, seeing him nodding ahead, causing you to turn, looking at what he was nodding to, your eyes widening as you gasped softly.

“Lexa.”

Without waiting, you moved forward, running past the others. You wrapped your arms around Lexa once you were close enough, hugging her tightly. Lexa's eyes widened as you hugged her, her own arms wrapping around you once it registered that you were actually standing in front of her, hugging her. You were real.

“Yu ste hir.” (you’re here)

You smiled, laughing softly as you nodded, Lexa turning her head into your shoulder.

“Ai don fis op yu a swega klin.” (I made you a promise)

“En yu otaim kep in yu swega klin.” (and you always keep your promise)

“Otaim.” (always)

You leaned back slightly, pressing your forehead against hers.

“Otaim strik sis.” (always little sister)

“Ai don mema yu we.” (I’ve missed you)

You smiled softly, leaning down and hugging Lexa again.

“Nou kom we tona kom we ai don don mema yu.” (not as much as I’ve missed you)

“I am sorry to interrupt.”

You let Lexa go as you turned, both of you looking at Abby.

“But we were told that you wanted to talk peace.”

You clenched your jaw as you glared at Abby. Ever since you had woken up in medical, Abby had been nothing but a thorn in your side. She was the one who had restrained you and kept you confined to medical, and she was the one who refused to let you leave.

“Can’t you see-”

Lexa grabbed your hand, squeezing once, her gaze never leaving Abby as she spoke.

“I do. The war with the mountain men is over. And I do not want another war, with Skaikru.”

“We don’t want that either, Heda.”

Lexa smiled slightly at Kane, nodding slightly.

“Then we have much to discuss.”

Lexa turned, walking towards the tent, pulling you along with her. Once in the tent, Lexa walked towards the throne, sitting down. You sat down next to her on the steps in your usual spot, leaning back against the side of the throne legs as Indra led the others inside. This is where you belonged, with your sister, in the open, not in the cold confines of Skaikru's metal.

🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

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[rauhallinen-hauki]

so I finished the fic that I wrote about in its cover art posts. it is a dialogue heavy shepvance marriage proposal story. there isn't any hardcore violence or detailed erotica in it, so I can post it here without putting a mature label on it. it is also on ao3

I doubt this post will show up in the tags, but as always, warnings for past depression, mentioned suicidal ideation, a brief implication and mention of sex, and a single mention of masturbation in the text

about 6000 words under the "read more". I'm really sorry if the read more doesn't show up

An assumed epilogue

Summary

The Resistance's leading lady proposes to a former HECU corporal. Seemingly redundant conversations follow.

Notes

Set in a post-Combine occupation Earth after a hypothetical Half-Life 3. This hypothetical Half-Life 3 takes the storyline of Mark Laidlaw's Epistle 3, with the changes that Alyx doesn't kill Judith and that she and Gordon close the Combine's portals to Earth, both returning to it. The G-man is driven away by them and ultimately loses interest in Earth, so by extension, in his employees on it. Return to Ravenholm (Opposing Force's canceled sequel) happens, somewhere between Episode 2 and Half-Life 3. Adrian eventually ends up working for the Resistance, basically as a forest ranger.

I don't actually think any of that would happen in the real Half-Life 3 (if it ever comes out). Nor do I think Alyx and Adrian meeting each other, let alone being a couple, will ever happen officially. And this goes without saying, but neither do I think nor want my personal take on these characters and world to be the "definitive" or "canonical" interpretation.

Written for many reasons, but mainly because it helped me process some things I've been going through. Also written because these games and especially this pairing mean a lot to me. I wanted to see these characters getting to live in a relatively "happy ending" scenario. Or at least get them some closure. I had scrapped this fic for good, but upon revisiting it almost two months later, I revived and subsequently finished it in a couple of days. Doing so has brought me further closure in some things.

All possible corniness, purple prose, repetition or overuse of phrases and words, and general redundancy in the text is intentional.

Partially based on personal experiences.

***

  It's not that she needs to do this. She's been dating the Resistance's unofficial-official 'alien fauna* shepherd for almost three years now. Too little time for some, but enough for her to know that what is going on is something special. Even the Vortigaunts said it: it is a strong bond, vortal or not.

  It's not that this will make that bond better, or validate it, or whatever.

  No, she just thinks it'd be at least nice to ask. She wants to find out. Get the intrigue out of her head. But how?

  It's a sunny evening at White Forest. Alyx and Adrian are on a walk, talking. Alyx does most of the literal talking; Adrian leads the way. One of Alyx's hands holds one of Adrian's, caressing his knuckles with her thumb. Her free hand rests on her utility belt.

  But as they walk through these groves that they've walked a thousand times before, so familiar yet at this moment so alien – not in the way Xen or the Combine Overworld felt alien – Alyx's steps falter. The grasp on the belt tightens slightly.

  Between Alyx's stories, Adrian asks: "...Are you okay?"

  "Yes. Just a little tired," Alyx says with a smile, hesitantly letting go of Adrian's hand to readjust her headband. "Guess I'm still not used to this summer heat, huh?"

  "Mmm. Is that why you've been at the garage so much?"

  "Yeah."

  Adrian curiously raises an eyebrow, as if about to ask something else, but is reassured for the moment. He slows down his pace.

  They fall into a comfortable silence. But Alyx's heart flutters with the force of a hurricane. Her mind spins, a maelstrom of thoughts cascading onto it.

  She thinks about her father. How he was always there with great advice. She never got to ask him in detail how he felt when proposing. And how did mom feel? She thinks, despite how useless it is.

  If only they were both still here, when almost everyone, everything is...

  She takes deep breaths. Welcomes the clear, earthy air in her lungs. It rained last night. Not acid rain nor metallic shells filled with headcrabs. She stops thinking about her parents. She does, however, think about their wedding. About her father's and Dr. Kleiner's stories of a small party with some family and close friends.

  Maybe she and Adrian will do the same. Blast some Rainbow and Kyuss since the radio has been fixed, and since it can be used without fear of attracting unwanted attention. Go plant some zinnias. Ah, and gardenias. Adrian has always been fond of those.

  Well, of flowers in general. His gaze lingers on the blossoms speckling the trees' branches. Then it lingers on her. Like usual, he catches her staring.

  Alyx combs her hair with her fingers and winks at Adrian. Adrian looks away, faking sheepishness. Alyx grins. So...

  How do you ask a sweet guy like him how to marry you without coming off as too hyped up? I don't want to pressure him!

  Gordon answered her calmly in straightforward sign language: "Do what feels right, be honest with him like you always have." Other fellow rebels gave her words along the same lines of that. Barney casually rolled his eyes and said: "Just ask him already!"

  But how do you do it? Get on one knee, hope for the best? What if she overwhelms him, makes him uncomfortable...

  She thinks and overthinks, getting too ahead of herself... when she hasn't even asked.

  Come on, just enjoy the moment!

  The birds chirping in the trees. The soft breeze playing with her hair. The snarks chirping in the undergrowth. The soothing sound of Adrian's quiet, gas mask-filtered breathing.

  Then, something rustling. The glimmer of sapphires and amethysts inbetween the emerald thicket. They come to a halt, Alyx motioning with her hand for Adrian to come closer.

  A shock roach scuttles out of the bushes. Electricity makes its whole body jitter, overcharged as it is in the humid ground. Poor thing must be exhausted. Alyx stoops and takes a closer look.

  It doesn't seem hostile. Why would it be, when its species doesn't need to fight every second to survive anymore? Doesn't look like it'd want to attach itself to her arm either. It just shakes there, petrified in the shade of the bushes.

  You'll be fine. Everything's alright.

  Alyx carefully picks up the shock roach and gives it to Adrian. As much of an animal person as she is, she'd rather let the expert in bugs himself handle it.

  Adrian cradles the shock roach with one arm, his free hand petting it. Soon enough, the bug leans against his chest, buzzing with joy. The same hands that once wielded its species as a weapon now pet it with the gentleness of an angel. A brawny angel, whose strong arms know how to hold someone in their worst days.

  He's always been a hunk. But God, does he look great these days. Healthier. He's put on a few pounds. There's more energy in his steps. More of that glimmer behind the green lenses. Especially here.

  In the soft glow of the canopy-filtered sunlight, the forest's greens take on a myriad of shades. Camouflaging, mixing with the color palette of his helmet and vest's suspender straps. At a quick glance, it's like he's wearing a veil of leaves. He looks so happy. So at ease.

  The perfect moment doesn't exist. But if there was a right place at the right time, then this is it!

  Adrian puts the shock roach back on the ground. It scuttles off to adventure in the undergrowth.

  If he says no, then that's fine, too.

  Without making a sound, Alyx opens one of the utility belt's pouches, pulling something out. She holds it in her fist. "Adrian, I uh... I actually wanted to ask you something."

  He turns around to look at her. Notices the muted coldness in her tone. Subconsciously grabs the vest's straps, fidgeting with them.

  "I've been thinking lately. About lots of stuff. How fast time goes, how it flies." Alyx sighs. Same dialogue she's had with herself countless times on restless nights. The same she's managed to confide only bits and pieces of to Adrian before. "The Combine... that man in a suit... I know they're all gone. But..."

  She clutches her necklace with her free hand. She frowns. Always the same old crap rotting in the back of her mind.

  "Sometimes I just can't get it clear in my head. It's like... yesterday I was at the Borealis. Now I'm okay. We're fine. Everything's alright. And it's like I'm still not used to it."

  There is a gentle but firm touch on her shoulder. She swallows.

  "Alyx... are you really okay?"

  "I'll be alright. I'm just so damn tired." She has to stop looking into those green lenses. Into those beautiful eyes that beg for an answer she can't really explain nor give with her own gaze, so she looks down at the ground instead.

  Taking a deep breath, she welcomes the clear, earthy air in her lungs. Welcomes the sight of grass, leaves and dirt. Listens to that quiet, gas mask-filtered breathing.

  An exhale. "I know there was a lot of bullshit going on when we met."

  Most of what comes after are things she bothers to explain but not to delve too deep on. Partially because Adrian knows firsthand the type of struggle Alyx recalls – trying to move on when those you love are killed, almost dying yourself when the world faces a thousand interdimensional crises at once, said world surviving but being so ravaged it looks just like the way you feel after dealing or trying to deal with so many problems that counting them reads like a supply list, existential dread at that man in a suit, etc. Memories and thoughts that just won't shut up sometimes.

  And partially because Alyx is exhausted. Putting these last three years into words puts things into perspective: it's been rough.

  Not all has been bad. But good or bad, it's still been one big decision, or "big thing" or most often a big damn catastrophe after the other. And yes, life is cyclical. No peace and no strife last forever.

  But it can't always, always, always go so fast. Like running a marathon or climbing a tower when your lungs and limbs burn, and you gasp for air and it's like you're about to trip and fall, right? How do you live like that?

  She leans on him. "I can't keep up sometimes. It's too much."

  They fall into an otherwise comfortable silence, if it wasn't for her anxious breathing. His hand moves down from her shoulder to her waist. He pulls her close.

  "We'll figure it out" he says.

  "Yeah."

  A pause. Anxiety fading, she closes her eyes. Thinks. Probably overthinks a little, too.

  A smile teases her lips. "...Still though, I'm so glad we met when we did."

  He holds her a little closer in agreement.

  She clears her throat and opens her eyes. "Well, like I said, I've been thinking. What is it that I wanna do now, when all that's over?"

  Another pause. Why is it so hard to say the obvious all of a sudden?

  "Listen, I think you already know how I feel about you. About us. These past years have been... God, it's been amazing."

  Alyx turns to face Adrian, carefully pulling herself away. She gives him a small but warm smile. "I want to move on, make the most of what time I have left. Keep helping everyone around here. Well, everyone I can in general. 'Heal the Earth.'"

  This is so corny! But despite almost chuckling at the thought, she continues. "And I want to keep going on walks with you, holding you... just being with you..."

  Alyx's smile widens. She lets go of her necklace and cups Adrian's left cheek – her hand caressing the canister – and looks at him in the eyes. It's not uncomfortable. Not when she has finally decided, right now, what to say to that sweet, hunky unofficial-official Resistance shepherd. To that someone that has helped, helps, and will always help her figure it out.

  "What I'm really trying to ask is... Adrian..."

  Bringing her fist to her chest, she holds it up to him and opens it, a ring made out of scrap on her palm. Crafted in restless evenings thinking about him and all they have shared. She asks: "Do you want to marry me?"

  Before getting an answer, Alyx realizes that she should be on one knee. And isn't it supposed to go: Would you marry me?

  But that doesn't matter anymore.

  Adrian can only stare. He blinks. Blinks again. Only on the third or fourth time he blinks does realization dawn on him, eyes widening the longer he observes the ring. The why.

  Why she's been so much by herself at the garage. Not that there's anything wrong with that. Everyone needs their space and alone time. But now it makes sense why she's been vaguely distant lately.

  Why she's been so contemplative.

  Adrian carefully takes the ring, his hand holding Alyx's for a couple of seconds. Alyx brings her hands together, looking expectantly at him. Trying to guess the entirety of the face he's making under the mask.

  It's a simple design. She must've recycled parts from Combine structures, because the scrap metal has a subtle, strange silver sheen to it. He turns it. It's engraved with a pattern of delicate curves and hard edges. Resembling the petals, leaves and stems of a rose or a gardenia.

  It's gorgeous. Not only in the physical sense, but also for (or maybe because of) what it represents. He puts it on the middle finger of his right hand. Relishing its texture.

  Never in his dreams, not even in those his mind might've come across in the infinite void while "sleeping" in that astral Osprey, did he imagine this.

  Alyx. This funny, smart, brave, hot as hell... and yes, stubborn woman. This post-apocalyptic princess that sometimes can't process the new non-apocalyptic realm. This downright good person.

  "Honey?"

  Her, radiant in the golden sunlight permeating through the canopy, every detail he could get lost in highlighted. The streaks of red accentuating her hair, those subtle laugh lines, that mole at her collarbone. The sweetest smile. *Even when she's also been thinking about her most hellish days.

  Her, offering a piece of her art (herself) to him. Asking him to be hers.

  "Adrian?"

  Tears well up in his eyes. His heart beats in his ears, so loud he can barely hear his own quiet, gas mask-filtered sobbing. How did he ever get so lucky?

  "Adrian?!"

  "Y-yes! Yes! YES!"

  Adrian gazes into Alyx's eyes for a couple of seconds before wrapping his arms around her. And Alyx nimbly throws her arms around Adrian's neck before he can give her the tight (not too tight to hurt her) squeeze he's been holding back this whole evening.

  Bodies pressed tight together, they hug in a way resembling the ones in their sweatier, steamier moments. Not that this is a sexy situation. They just need to hold and squeeze and get good grips on each other right now.

  He leans down slightly and rests his head on her shoulder. Past the light armor that is the PCV, a tender touch settles between his shoulder blades. Trying and failing to stop his crying, he closes his eyes. Relishing the sensation.

  His hands roam her body, rubbing her back, massaging off any vestiges of anxiety. Until one hand stays on her lower back. The other holds the back of her head, his fingers running through her hair. She laughs.

  She smells so good. Of forest and sweat and a cool, specific scent. Holding and massaging and being held and massaged with the mask filtering but still taking her whole essence in... it all sends some kind of energy through him. He keeps sobbing.

  Birds and snarks sing in the distance. Then that warm, beautiful voice again. Although it sounds a bit brittle...

  "Take it easy."

  He sighs, tension leaving his muscles. His grip loosens. The hand on her lower back moves up. Stops at a spot in her worn jacket which has been further mended with duct tape. Over the hunter's wounds.

  He wasn't there for her when it happened. Not that he could've been; both unaware of each other's existence and all. Lost somewhere he can't really describe. But he still regrets it. Regretting leads to reminiscing about other regrets from around that time, in the very beginnings of their friendship. Never getting to meet Eli. Petty jealousy over Gordon. Feeling alienated without reason.

  But that's all over now. "Oh Alyx, I..."

  As he holds her, he decides (reminds himself). He couldn't do anything back then. But his regrets won't stop him from cherishing what they've built together. No enslaved alien creatures, nor inter-dimensional empires, not even that creepy government guy can change that.

  And although her own anxieties and regrets aren't something he can fight for her, he can help in dealing with them.

  Her hands on his chest, she tugs him closer somehow by the vest's straps. Heat radiates from her. And he gets completely lost in her embrace.

  "...Thanks," he manages to say. For telling him what has been bothering her, for the ring, for the hug, for everything. For so much he can't say since words won't suffice right now.

  She understands.

  Eventually, they break the hug and dry their tears. Adrian apologizes for getting overwhelmed. Alyx says it's okay and in turn apologizes for taking him "off-guard". Adrian nods.

  They continue their walk. Adrian recognizes the glade up ahead and explains which edge of the forest they're approaching. Alyx leads the way back to White Forest base.

  Between the tree trunks, the lake nestled in the middle of the mountains gradually comes into view. Its surface shimmers in the setting sunlight. A chill breeze flutters across the valley.

  "Man, is it weird..." Adrian thinks out loud, stretching.

  "What?"

  "Seeing the lake like this."

  Alyx observes the lake as well. The wind sketches the barest of ripples on it.

  "It just hits me sometimes how things change." Adrian chuckles softly. "I get sent to kill Gordon Freeman, and he ends up becoming one of my best friends. I want to beat some g-man to a bloody pulp. Now? I don't give a crap about him."

  Alyx brings a hand to her chin.

  "...I thought the sunset couldn't be calm again."

  They come to another halt. She meets his gaze. "What do you mean?"

  He looks away. He's never spoken this much in... hell, probably weeks. He's never been much of a talker in general. And he's told her the main facts before. Why tell the details?

  But she told him what's been bothering her. So maybe he should do the same. Even if that isn't the most romantic thing to reminisce about after being asked your hand in marriage.

  Adrian's voice comes out in a strangely clear tone. "The night before the mission at Black Mesa, my squad and I were having a long talk. Just shooting the shit I mean. Anyway, I don't remember how we got to the topic, but Jackson asked how we'd like to die."

  He stares at the lake again. "I guess in case the whole operation went FUBAR."

  "...Which it did," Alyx says. She can't help but think about failed attempts to overthrow the Combine over the years. About all these fellow rebels lost.

  Those from City 17 and Black Mesa East. Her father. Judith – God, what happened to Judith? Those she never knew, but who she knows would've been at her side too. Like her mother, or doctors Cross and Green. And maybe countless others whose stories never got told.

  Humans, Vortigaunts, literal or figurative animals, from Earth or Xen or anywhere else. In the end she ends up thinking about almost everyone; not only about those long gone but also about those still alive. About those in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  The chill breeze snaps her back to the moment. She stares at the lake again. It's so silent here, as if that gas mask-filtered breathing were the only sound of the valley.

  Adrian nods slowly. "Jackson said he wanted something explosive."

  "Ah, like an action hero. And what did you say?"

  "Freezing. I once heard it was like falling asleep. And that in the end, you'd feel warm." He wraps his arms around himself. "Then Tower said drowning was actually the peaceful way to go.

  ...Fast forward a bit. Or a lot. I get out of Ravenholm. Gri- Father Grigori sort of... you know..."

  "Exploded?" Alyx asks. She only knew the pastor in stories. Always amazing how much crazy stuff happened in Ravenholm. Crazy how Adrian was there too. What is it about quiet guys finding their way into these places?

  "...Yes. So there I was. Alone, tired as hell, walking through the woods surrounding the town as the sun set. Until I found a lake." Adrian pauses. Taking longer, deeper breaths. And he just keeps staring at the lake. Lost in thought.

  The more Alyx stares at the water, the more at peace she is with... something. It's hypnotic. Except it's conscious. Gingerly grabbing her necklace, she listens to Adrian as the lake is a puzzle to be solved. A machine she seemingly can't hack.

  Wow, it goes over and over and over again.

  The wind keeps sketching on the lake's shimmering surface. Its lines become more confident. Small circles and interlapping wisps. In water, the sky's purples, reds, oranges and pinks mirror, the setting sunlight dispersing. The wind draws in longer strokes. Jet black ink, brushpens dancing on a collage of amethysts, rubies, ambers and morganites speckled with fading gold.

  The more she stares at the lake, the more its surface resembles outer space. The more the wind's strokes of ink a complete darkness. Like cosmic voids between galaxies.

  It also resembles a certain figurative darkness, where the figurative gemstones lose their luster. There was a time – well, maybe more – when she wanted to swim in it. To get away from everything, escape from a wrong place and a wrong time.

  She and Gordon had returned from the Combine Overworld. The war that had waged through almost all her life was over. Except that in her heart it wasn't.

  Adrian trembles slightly. "...Everyone was gone. I had nowhere to go. No reason to go on living. So into the lake I went." His breathing hitches. An inaudible gasp before continuing. "I waded for a while. Thought my body could at least feed the pikes or ichthyosaurs. Maybe I could've swam a bit too."

  Alyx takes one of Adrian's hands and guides it to her waist. Adrian's breathing gradually slows down. He pulls her close, wrapping an arm around her while his free hand fidgets with the vest's straps. She leans on him and closes her eyes. Cracking the code.

�� The darkness of the lake and the void. Same to the one in her fever dreams and nightmares of running in the woods, Advisors in hangars, vortexes of collapsing universes, citadels and black holes, trains and planes going nowhere in the nothingness.

  Some where the man in a suit said: Miss Vance, you can't afford this misery. It would have been far easier to accept an offer when given the chance. Let go of squandered investments. Sunk cost fallacy.

  Miss Vance. Will weeping over your father's corpse bring him back? Does the steel husk you call a pet really not know something is amiss... every time you insist you are alright? What would the Resistance think of their dear leader, unable to hold a coherent thought behind her reassuring smile? Hm. Is it a wonder nothing became of you and Doctor Freeman, even with the blessing of friends? Or was he always a mere indulgence, so you would feel no remorse now, here in your quarters, touching yourself to the thought of another silent man? Another squandered employee. Would this heal all of Corporal Shephard's pain? Are you healing yours?

  Does only thinking about everything fix anything? Can you keep up?

  Do you believe in living like this?

  She keeps holding her necklace, trying to focus on the warmth around her.

  Adrian keeps a steady arm wrapped around Alyx. "And then I stopped wading. There wasn't warmth in the sun. The water was so cold. Too cold. And maybe I was too anxious or hungry or both, since I got this killer bellyache." He sighs. "I... I couldn't do it."

  In the darkness of her room, at hours that didn't pass at night, she thought about sneaking to her nightstand, or to the base's communal kitchen or laundry room. Where it could've been her pistol or a myriad of knives or detergent that finally did the trick of swimming out of water.

  But she couldn't get out of bed. The hunter's wounds burnt as if she was being impaled all over again. But lying there, headaches and back pain tearing her apart, always felt like drowning on air.

  "...So I decided to circle the lake. A river sprang from it, I followed it. An dirt road ran parallel. I came across a busted up shack along the way... must've been rebels raided by the Combine. I stayed there a couple of days."

  The man in a suit kept talking. But despite feeling like she'd forever fall and drift through the void, her lungs and limbs burning, she always gasped for air and replied: No.

  Because in the darkness she also came to understand its cycle. After all those eternal nights came the cycle where she learned to keep moving and sleep again. To wake up and tell those in the wrong place at the wrong time: Guys, I need help.

  "Weird place. Birds sang at the exact same time every morning."

  Alyx giggles. She could fall asleep standing here, her head resting on Adrian's shoulder. "Any other critters living there?"

  Adrian nods. "There was this cave nearby. I saw antlions for the first time..."

  Alyx takes deep breaths and lets her senses refocus on the moment.

  As she opens her eyes, his words about the sunset make sense. Or rather, she understood them all along. She just had to remind herself.

  Adrian lets out a Phew!-sounding sigh. "A certain ex-Black Mesa security guard passed by the road." He almost chuckles as he gazes into the horizon. He still remembers the ex-security guard recognizing the HECU uniform. "We scared the hell out of each other."

  "Yeah, I think I know who you're talking about," Alyx says. "But anyone who knew Otis Laurey is a friend of his, right?"

  Adrian nods, vaguely sad. Insane how things work out once you talk them out first. "He said something about owing beers and that the alien apocalypse had ended for good. He also talked about the return of Gordon Freeman and this... Alyx Vance."

  He pauses again before returning to look at her. He has also reminded himself of certain facts. "Figured I could stay at the base for a while and meet some more people. You know the rest."

  She smiles. "Say Adrian, that day... what did you think of Alyx Vance when you saw her for the first time?"

  "That she was the most beautiful person I've ever seen. She still is."

  "Funny you say that. You've only gotten hunkier since!"

  He looks away for a second as his cheeks heat up. Never before has he been more thankful for the mask and helmet covering him.

  The winds strengthens. Still a breeze, but strong enough to dishevel Alyx a little. Adrian gently tucks some of her hair locks back into her headband. He combs her hair with his fingers before it turns into a gentle but firm touch on her shoulder.

  "...We're going in circles," he says in a whisper, ashamed of himself. He stares at his free hand. At the gleam of the ring in his fingers. "Why think about it now?"

  She thinks. Thinks about all that has led to this moment. Why she's been overthinking about shock roaches and water and literal and figurative stuff in proposing to her boyfriend.

  Well, even if she didn't need to do it, she wanted to marry him. It's a decision. A step. A beginning cycle, although it also isn't because sometimes it feels like they've been married for years. A paradox in of itself.

  But she thinks about a broader one. "Because to take the next step you gotta look back."

  He curiously raises an eyebrow.

  "I mean, everyone does that, right? Get all nostalgic? Focus on the hard stuff it took to get us here?"

  She attempts to explain it physically, her hands sweeping circles and pointing to the lake and doing whatever her nerves subconsciously tell them to do. "I get why you're all shy about it. We were depressed. Think of it like uh... the ripples of the wind on the lake. The circles. Our depression and us meeting are circles. They just happened to overlap!

  And sometimes in that overlap I go, 'Damn, how the hell did I pull this sweet, awesome guy? Why is he taking me out on walks and all when I actually suck ass at everything? He deserves someone better.' I was having some of those thoughts this morning. Not that we're depressed now, but..."

  "I... I know. I get these kinds of thoughts sometimes, too."

  "Yeah. But Adrian, there's nothing wrong with that. It's okay. Really. Remember the other circles overlapping. Us dating... is one big circle. There are so many ripples in there! Like this whole evening, for example."

  She presses her forehead against his helmet with a gentle thud. Staring down at his chest, she draws circles on it with her fingers. And for a moment, she feels a couple of years younger.

  "...Remember the day we started dating?" he asks. He feels a couple of years younger for a moment, too.

  The forest was golden brown, the sun was lost in the mist. She took him for a walk to the base's small gardens after a long workday. It was the evening she confronted him about a certain letter addressed to her. Where he confessed having written it, the confession within it. Where she confessed her own figurative letters – as in, the flirting over months – addressed to him. And she threw her arms around his neck, and he was as cold as the air and as hot as the...

  "How to forget it? It's like I'm there aaall over again," she says, partially thinking out loud in admiration of the sunset they're in. She sighs. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

  He holds her a little closer in agreement. Looks at her with more of that glimmer behind the green lenses.

  Everything wasn't suddenly, completely alright after that evening. But despite being in the latter half of autumn, the sun was warming up again. And little by little, the world would regain its luster.

  She smiles warmly, mirroring his hidden smile. Goddamn. What a beautiful, calm sunset it really is.

  And there was – is – always something to be learned and to be reminded of in their countless other shared cycles, too. Making up after those rare times they have a fight. In more frequent times, both spent after having casual or passionate sex. Speaking without words. Or when taking care of alien and terrestrial fauna together; or just in hanging around, or...

  Alyx places a hand on Adrian's belly and rubs it gingerly. Thinking about the Vortigaunts, how they channel electricity.

  The energy surrounding her when being revived from the hunter's wounds. As she woke up, for a couple of seconds, she saw Gordon aglow with a bright, orange light, mixing with the multicolored ones from the Vortigaunts.

  Right know she almost palpably senses Adrian's energy. It's so vibrant here. For a millisecond, she can see its light clearly: the soft, green glow she has felt countless times before.

  She imagines that she is sharing, giving some of her energy to to him. It's a corny thought, but that doesn't matter anymore.

  A gradient of golden and red light illuminates her palms for a millisecond.

  Eventually, after a long pause of once again simply relishing the moment, before either can suggest resuming their walk, they pull away from each other. The ground shakes. Thumping, although there aren't any antlions living in this beach.

  "Dog!" Alyx exclaims.

  From up on the hill cresting the lake, Dog sprints towards Alyx and Adrian. He must've gotten worried, so he personally came to see what's taking them so long to come back home. Time just slips away on walks.

  Dog takes a laughing Alyx into his forelegs, giving her a hug. About to properly greet Adrian as well, he notices the subtle gleam of the ring.

  He looks at Alyx, who just confirms something with a nod. And he shimmies in his entirety and stomps his forelegs on the ground, the rattling of his metallic frame like a triumphant giggle.

  "You know, Dog helped me decide what materials to use on the ring," Alyx says.

  "Really? I'm not surprised," Adrian says. He gives a few affectionate scratches and rubs to Dog's metallic frame, thanking him. The robot always had a sharp eye for seemingly "useless" things.

  Adrian's eyes widen in (late) realization. He looks sheepishly at Alyx. "Now I've got to make a ring for you. Maybe we could go collect scrap together next time?"

  "Sounds good to me. Dog?"

  The metal frame rattles harder. A small cloud of dirt forms at Dog's legs. Then it subsides as Dog calms down.

  "One condition though..." Alyx says, without planning to state an actual condition.

  "Mmm?"

  "Write something nice on it for me."

  Adrian freezes for a moment. He's never been much of awriter: most of his experience comes from keeping a diary back in his HECU days. He remembers how he managed to confess his feelings for Alyx on a letter, so long and so little time ago. How hard it was to make pencil kiss paper.

  But he still journals, although he isn't the same man he was back in his HECU days. Or the one he was three years ago. Hell, even the one he was less than a year ago. Yet at the same time he is still him. It must be some kind of paradox. Thankfully not a temporal one though.

  Adrian snaps out of his thoughts with a shrug. "Sure. Anything for my radiant wife..."

  He'll write this time too. It'll just be engraving words on metal instead of paper. Something fitting for her. Like the beauty of a zinnia, or the re- (he'll figure this out in due time).

  "Hey! What wife?" Alyx quips with her hands on her hips. "Didn't I tell you to take it easy? We haven't married yet, honey."

  Adrian looks away, but Alyx can tell that he is faking sheepishness. And despite Alyx's words, without noticing it, their conversation takes a turn towards planning their wedding. Dog sits transfixed by the brainstorming.

  Rainbow and Kyuss for the reception is a must. And while it'll be an "unofficial ceremony" with no dress code, Alyx says she'd like to wear a pretty dress under her jacket. Adrian considers attaching a veil to his helmet.

  Gordon had already promised to be a bridesman to Alyx. But it works out, since Barney once told Adrian to "just tell him when it all happens," and that he'd be his best man if needed; and that he'd take care of the drinks (he keeps owing beers to everyone). Kleiner is a party animal so he'll-

  In the back of his mind, he remembers some passages from his old diary. How he used to write about wanting adventure. Change, something exciting. And he got it. But it wasn't only about enlisting and boot camp, or the Resonance Cascade and Black Mesa, or all about race X and Xen, or Ravenholm and adapting to the new world.

  It's also about these walks, and all those other everyday little adventures among the bigger, overlapping ones (ripples, circles) along the way.

  ...Man, is ex-corporal Shephard lucky.

  Dog "barks" and motions with his forelegs towards the hill.

  "Okay, okay. Let's go before Magnusson gets antsy," Alyx says. There will be time to plan the wedding. "I bet Kleiner's already made tea for everyone."

  The night is young. Despite walking and standing all evening, Alyx and Adrian have full energy in their steps. Dog leads the way back to White Forest base through the lake's shoreline.

  One of Alyx's hands holds one of Adrian's, caressing his knuckles with her thumb.

  She observes their enlinked hands. The holes in his biker-styled tactical gloves. She brings his hand to her lips and kisses his bare knuckles.

  "You DO know that I love you, right?" she asks.

  He replies with an affirming, quiet chuckle and gently nuzzles his front voicemitter against her cheek, giving her a gas masked kiss. "...And I love you too."

  And all this is just one of the unforeseen consequences of the Resonance Cascade. Two paths that under impossible circumstances still crossed, the accident that screwed the world having brought them together.

  The Resonance Cascade was the worst and also the best thing to have ever happened to them. Another grand paradox in the struggle, wonder and gift that is life.

[scoops404]

okay genuine question because i’ve been wondering how people would react so i want your opinion… if george came out and just said “life update i’m pregnant/srs” and showed a picture of an ultrasound or something(or even didn’t show a picture just left it at the announcement), do you think people would believe him? would YOU believe him? how do you think that would go, do you think twitter/others would harass him into giving an explanation? my initial thought is that twitter wouldn’t believe him and would shit on him for misusing tone tags or making fun of women or something like that so he would be forced into proving himself or something.

just silly mpreg gnf thoughts

also i just realized my redundant use of “or something” so sorry about that

I would not believe it right up front but that's more because I know how these ccs are and the pranks they like to play

If it became more serious then I guess I'd just assume he was trans

But I also don't believe at this point in their careers that they would announce something like that over Twitter. But then again, maybe they would? I have stopped trying to predict their behavior

a fun mpreg conversation lol

[residentevil-4]

obligatory sorry for reading fanfiction 😔

anyway ive been perusing the soriku tag slowly but surely, stopping to read what looks interesting while avoiding the akuroku landmines sprinkled in. just now i found one that seemed kind of okay, but the authors notes began with a long complaint about how some other fic was obviously inspired by theirs:

i agree its a little rude to not cite direct inspiration, especially when its obvious but so many fanfics have heavy overlap in topic and plot points that it seems redundant. (being entirely fair, this one IS more explicit, these arent common genre tropes!)

also, even worse, i read the "plagiarized" one several days ago and liked it a lot. i even bookmarked it which i rarely ever do. the "copy" is written a lot better both in pacing and writing style. like i really enjoyed it. i couldnt get past the first few lines of the "original". like, im not trying to be mean! but this is hard to slog through

and at first i thought that its meant to be a lot, its supposed to mirror the dull feeling of having a daily routine while feeling a little overwhelming because thats what waking up is like... but the whole thing is written like that. as is every other fic this person writes

[amrv-5]

HI ⭐️! (loved Droughtland, would love to hear commentary) :)

HELLO and THANK YOU FOR THE ASK and I'm SO GLAD YOU LIKED IT I loved WRITING IT ARGHH!!!! Also tagging in @catgrub who asked the same just a few minutes later -- HELLO and THANK YOU ZANE!!! Since there were two recs for Droughtland I feel like the extreme length of the following Commentary can be excused.

(For context: I realized I've got 0 idea of how to do a Director's Commentary except for ones I've seen where directors just rewatch their own movie and speak overtop of it, so, I did the same except with reading and typing. This is my read-along author commentary on Droughtland, arranged in chronological order--feel free to look at it with the OG, or not, it should stand alone just fine. Or ignore it entirely. My god it's fucking long, so sorry. Anyway, onwards.)

Okay close reading. Okay commentary. Engaging on this journey together yaaaay.

[Iowa, 1962]

Okay, from the first line, we’re invoking concerns of location, identity, belonging, otherness—Radar struggling to adjust to home because he senses he’s been changed by his experiences in a way that makes him incompatible with the life he used to lead. He’s good at his job, we sense that he’s well-respected, but he’s undeniably not entirely present. Everything he does, sees, thinks, remembers, ends up in service of the Project, which I think I’ve (maybe not obviously or even all that consciously) tried to imply has an element of spiritual or religious calling to it, given that we’re introduced to it in a church. 

And retrospectively enjoying the complexity of Radar running the line between escapism and catharsis in his writing at the end of this first section. He misses the people he was close to, that much is clear, and writing is a way to feel close to them. And yet he’s also mentally returning over and over again to a war. A theme I’ve played with in the background of my BeejHawk fics, and more centrally in Droughtland, is one I sort of cribbed from Michael Herr’s Dispatches: Who are you after the most defining event of your life has ended?

[Iowa, 1952]

...And who are you when you KNOW the most defining event of your life has ended? That’s not to say the War Was A Good Experience and One To Reminisce Over. In fact the war being experientially horrific only complicates this idea more. I’m fascinated by how somebody goes about the rest of their life knowing with near-certainty that anything / everything they experience will likely never be as impactful on their sense of self and arc of life than a single past event. Anyway, this ends up concerning Radar greatly, who moves from that Defining Event—Drafted Into the Korean War—back to the rhythms of family and farm life, where he expects himself to be content with the life he’d always assumed he’d have. Actually I’ve read more and realized I had him state that concern textually, rendering this redundant. Ah well. Moving on. 

Okay, something else—Radar and writing and fiction and voice. I wanted to get across very clearly that the driving force of his writing is a direct desire to communicate—his first attempt at beginning the book takes the form of an introduction (“My name is Radar O’Reilly”), and he states that writing lets a fellow talk to people who aren’t around. The silent implication being, then, that he’s got no-one real to talk to. Another important set of questions getting kicked around in this piece: Why do we write? Is writing still communication if it’s never shared?

I wanted to play with the idea specifically of writing in relation to loneliness. If you’ve got nobody to talk to, or no way to express yourself meaningfully, or nobody who is interested in understanding you, it makes a lot of sense to sink into the realm of the creative, which we see Radar do here very explicitly. He doesn’t have any close connections, really, or at least not ones he thinks he can explain his new sense of self to, so he turns to writing. Summoning the last people who really understood how he felt, in some ways, writing to communicate with people who are dead or gone from him. Making some record of himself, his experiences, the way he sees the world—an attestation of self, or something, in direct defiance of a landscape and life that feels flat, uncaring, inaccessible—he starts writing alone in a field.

[Iowa, 1959]

Next—mm, field fire section, which was my favorite to write. I’m clearly and obviously soft for rural concerns. I know it’s been pointed out that my voice is significantly different in this fic than in my others, and I’ll admit that I did dip into the author-voice I usually reserve for my personal fictionalizations of family histories, which largely concern, go figure, rural American questions of identity, place, belonging, family, fulfillment, etc. And yet the usual Vonnegut-y sensibilities aren’t wholly gone—the idea of Radar being a volunteer fireman was lifted both from Vonnegut’s life AND volunteer firefighters' positioning in his work as bastions of selfless humanity and civic duty. I like the idea of a latently lonely Radar doing all these very quiet upright civically-minded things. Frequently good people are dealt bad hands, and aren’t cared for by their communities, and still go on doing good anyway. 

[Iowa, 1963]

Reading on—and the arrival of BeejHawk. It’s been long enough by this point that Radar’s sort of been subsumed by the Project. We see that tendency in him as he anticipates seeing ‘Dr. Pierce’ and meets Hawkeye instead.

And then—AH! At last! The title is Droughtland, obviously, and that’s a multivalent image, but here’s at least one moment and facet of relief: Sometimes, he thought, a fellow just needed words. Words and words and words like rain on a drought. And the good doctors Pierce and Hunnicutt had always known how to talk up a storm. 

As much as it’s a relief, it’s also destabilizing to suddenly have people notice him after so long living almost entirely within himself—Hawkeye calling him Radar shocks him into silence—wow, I’m realizing belatedly just HOW MUCH this fic is about loneliness, actually. Funny the things you can catch on a reread. His name is important, that’s all, and Hawkeye would understand that. 

Meanwhile BeejHawk as a unit are very clearly sensing something wrong—not wrong, maybe, but not all right, either. Radar’s Restaurant Allegory is key here as he admits that ‘enjoyment’ is absolutely meaningless in the context of his life—it doesn’t matter if you like the restaurant if it’s the only option. It’s not that he likes or dislikes it—it’s that forming and expressing an opinion would be pointless. This is a stand-in for his opinion on life, which Hawkeye finds distressing, though I think he’d agree with Radar to a degree on his related idea that happiness, delight, joy are intentional practices more than consistent feelings (another idea cribbed from elsewhere: Ross Gay’s Book of Delights, which I am coming to realize sunk way more deeply into my psyche at age 19 than I thought. I may elaborate someday if there’s ever an interest in Parker Creative Nonfiction because the story’s sort of ???, but also, maybe not).

Anyway, Hawk at last manages to drag a bit of real sentiment out of Radar: writing, and the Project, where so much of his internal life is focused (Hawk makes a Lot’s wife joke, because of course he does, but also I like him invoking a story where somebody looks backward on something terrible and suffers for their inability to turn away). 

And from here Radar takes the plunge and finally gives all that lonely writing an audience. Terrifying, but it pays off—Hawk affirms that he’s very good (important to me that Radar’s very good as a writer coming from outside a formal academic context. Everybody has the potential to create resonant art, and I wanted to be clear that Radar’s interest in something like the Iowa Writer’s Workshop isn’t the need to be Validated by the Institution or to Escape some sort of poorly-informed or condescending vision of Rural Nonintellectualism (bad themes!!! I hate them!!! NOT at play here, or at least consciously attempted to subvert) but as an extension of the desire for artistic community. To be seen and heard, instead of all the silent listening he’s been doing for years.)

The tradeoff of communicating, by the way—Hawk is a good listener, and picks up on a number of things maybe Radar wasn’t even aware he was revealing in his work—loneliness, vague dissatisfaction, a focus on finding interior fulfillment when the external world fails to provide. Scary, destabilizing, embarrassing… but eventually very, very good. For Radar, at least, who’s suddenly feeling like he’s allowed to want something. 

Moving on. Hawkeye’s reaction to learning he’s a part of Radar’s Project. Obviously he’s worried about how he’s going to come across. I think it’s a very scary thing to be the object of cameras, of writerly gaze, all of it, because it creates an image that exists entirely outside the object's control. How horrifying/enticing/awful/fascinating it’s got to be to be able to find out how you exist in another person’s mind… and when that image was formed in the lowest years of your life… of course Hawk’s apprehensive. And clearly it rattles him—but maybe in the way any really, really resonant art rattles us, based on his next-morning response. 

Hawk comes downstairs and we get this baffling little kiss scene, which I’ll be honest I wasn’t entirely sure what it meant when I was writing, only that it felt right. But now I’m thinking it’s clearly an exchange of seeing—Hawk feels he’s been thoroughly Seen in Radar’s work, for better or worse, and comes downstairs to communicate in this abstract way that he sees Radar, too—and affirms what he sees. 

So we end with these moments, finally, of communication and understanding and connection. Very obviously there’s the Hawk-Radar connection, which is so intense and emotive it’s basically psychic (what's good writing if not successfully communicating an idea or image with all original emotive force and vividness from one mind to another?). There’s also Beej, who isn’t Hawk’s brand of incidentally clairvoyant, but is all around a very bright, kind, warm person who’s able to give Radar the sort of horrendously necessary everyday sort of conversation and care that makes life bearable, the kind it’s so easy to take for granted when you’re experiencing it regularly. And then there’s BJ stepping in to hold Hawk even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s transpired between Hawk and Radar, because he knows Hawk and knows that he needs a second of support, which is sort of psychic in its own way. 

And that's the end. So, overall, I’d say the thing is very directly related to the title—drought of the soul which is only starting to lift by the end of the piece. One storm doesn’t solve a drought, after all—you need consistent rain, and time for ecological repair. And still the first few drops of rain after a dry spell feel awfully good. 

[shinwoo]

LOVE IS IN THE AIR~ (and chocolates behind your backs)

if you were debating getting your special someone some special valentine's day chocolates, this is your sign that yes, you ARE going to get your special someone chocolates >:)

— but you still have a week to decide if you're still thinking...

ANYWAYS!

i have decided to be the middle man, the bridge if you will, this valentine's day between you and your 2D lover by delivering your chocolates to them and passing along their return gifts to you this march 14, 2023 (mark your calendars, it's also on a tuesday)

STATUS: CLOSED (as of 2/15/2023)

keep reading for details and logistics :)

but first, the chocolate - will you choose to make:

— milk chocolate? : drabble

what i need from you:

your preferred name/alias + pronouns

your character of choice (fandoms will be listed below)

au (unspecified will be unspecified)

a bit about you! (whatever you're comfortable with sharing)

your preferred dates - just to get some inspo and learn more about you

just anything and everything you think might be helpful for me

— dark chocolate? : dialogue drabble

what i need from you:

same as the stuff for milk (drabble) but with a dialogue that i will use [for redundancy's sake, please nothing like "i love you" or "be my valentine?" or anything like that — come on people, be creative!]

— white chocolate? : chibi self-ship art

what i need from you:

a picrew or picture of you (note, this will NOT be posted and immediately deleted after completion of your request - you can also request a screen recording of me deleting it if that will help you feel better) - please make any pictures/references pictures and not like a link or anything like that (i might delete your request if this isn't followed)

your character of choice (fandoms will be listed below)

max. of 3 (THREE) add-ons:

speech bubble(s) (your choice of dialogue - default is none)

pose (default will be some generic couple's pose)

au (default is "modern" au)

clothes (default is going to be casual/my choice)

background (default will be white - transparent is an option btw!)

other (any other special requests that you have that i didn't think of)

if you give more than 3, i will only do the first 3

what to expect on white day (march 14, 2023):

the drabble/dialogue drabble/chibi art + a little surprise from them!

BY THE WAY: the request itself that you send in my inbox won't be posted (the "return gifts" will be posted in a separate post with a tag to you), so don't worry about oversharing or doing "too much" because you won't be and no one else but me will see :) — with that being said, i will allow anon requests (however, please understand that you will not be able to be tagged... if you're okay with that though then by all means, have at it!)

STILL CONFUSED?: i'm holding a valentine's day event where you'll request the "chocolate" (details above) for your special someone - then on march 14, 2023 (or white day), they will send you a return gift - all requests to be sent to my ask box please! there are no slots but please be sure to send by the due date! and only one per person! the drabbles will be personalized for you (which is why the more information the better - about you, the self-ship, whatever is necessary for the best possible gift!)

WHEN TO SUBMIT BY: february 14, 2023

FANDOMS TO CHOOSE FROM (remember, only one!):

haikyuu

tears of themis

genshin impact

you are welcome to "suggest" a character who is not in one of the listed fandoms (but have a backup from the list in case i don't know them) - please no blue lock or csm, i have not watched any of the blue lock/csm eps yet (and yes still, i'm sorry alsfdkasdfj) :,)))

happy requesting :)

if you have any further questions/concerns, please ask! i'd be happy to help/answer

ps. i'm still deciding on a generic tag for this event so stay tuned if you want to filter it out - i'll post an update!

[lilblog-asatreat]

Okay, so I've been tagged by two different people for posts about music, so I'm just gonna do them both here lol

I was tagged by @barry-j-blupjeans to put a playlist on shuffle and share the first 10 songs that come up, and I was tagged by @littlepatchofhell to share ten songs I've been listening to recently. And both challenges ask to tag 10 people lol

Thank you both for the tag!!! :D

(And sorry, it's been like, at least over a week, Ise, I forgot that you tagged me fhakfhflahflahflajflsjdl)

Literally, all I've been listening to for the past over a month now is the Undertale OST, so I picked 21 songs I really liked from the playlist (well, more than 21, but I'm combining some of the songs because they're basically just different parts of the same song fbskfjskahdlsjfkajdls) and shuffled it for the first tag, and then I'm gonna list the rest of the ones I chose for the second one lol

(And I'm not gonna list the artist by each one because they are all Toby Fox lol)

For the shuffled list:

Heartache

Premonition

Waterfall

For the Fans

Undertale

She's Playing Piano

Hopes and Dreams/SAVE the World/His Theme

Bonetrousle

NGAHHH!!/Spear of Justice

Memory

And for the rest (in playlist order):

Home (Music Box)

Sans

Shop

Temmie Village

Metal Crusher

It's Raining Somewhere Else

CORE

Death by Glamour

Fallen Down (Reprise)

But the Earth Refused to Die/Battle Against a True Hero

MEGALOVANIA

Idk if any of you have been tagged yet because I haven't checked to see if my mutuals who have been tagged already did the tag too and who they tagged, so if this is redundant, I'm sorry lol

But I'm tagging: @starry--skies @sierraveree @taniushka12 @idkanameatall @rindomness @honey-beesknees @entguarde @noodyl-blasstal @x-cottage-goblin-x @star-thorns and @rosesandapplause and anyone else who wants to do it :)

You can do one of them, both of them or neither lol Up to you :)

Also, I'm just gonna drop the audio file for Temmie Village in case some of you are curious and haven't heard it yet :) I can't post all of them because tumblr won't let me, but Temmie Village is important to me and a very normal song :) I really think y'all would like it :)

[its-no-biggie]

[tags on my last post comparing trigun stampede to 98] um. so. i went back through my trigun tag to find the post i was referencing here and. turns out i never actually posted it and its been sitting in my drafts for 3 months (since july 25, to be exact). so here it is! its kinda unfinished but i dont wanna change it too much bc it was my interpretation while i was halfway through 98. anyway enjoy.

watching trigun 98 after stampede is so funny bc why is every character a completely different person. like its not just vash its every single member of the main cast. do you think stampede!meryl would have the balls to hold a gun up to vashs head. be so for real

ESPECIALLY wolfwood. stampede!wolfwood was extremely untrusting and untrustworthy right outta the gate. youre immediately like "whats up with this guy. is he gonna stab vash in the back or what". and his character just kinda stays like that the whole time. but 98!wolfwood is like. hes trying to scam people. hes giving food out to children. he manipulates vash into entering a quick-draw competition. hes very obviously hiding something, and unlike vash he doesnt wear his heart on his sleeve so you have NO idea how much of what youre seeing is fake. he and vash have both clocked that the other is hiding who/what they are but they havent addressed it and it adds SO MUCH FLAVOUR to their relationship. all that, and hes only been onscreen for 2 episodes! i can certainly see him becoming the wolfwood we see in stampede, or i can see the characteristics we see in stampede being introduced in 98 very naturally, but the other way around just. doesnt work.

i. realized as i was writing that last paragraph that wolfwood is introduced scamming people and feeding random children in stampede as well. but its. different? it feels very fake in stampede, like youre not supposed to trust him. like hes giving candy to the child specifically to get vash and co. on his side (which he is. we find out later that it was a setup). but in 98 it feels a lot more real. if its a trick, its one the viewer isnt meant to pick up on yet. and thats the difference- yeah, they may both be a ruse to trick vash, but waiting to reveal it to the viewer makes him seem a lot better at it. the characterization in stampede is "vash is naive for trusting wolfwood when hes so obviously untrustworthy" while in 98 its more like "wolfwood is pretending to be someone hes not and hes so good at it that even you, the all-knowing viewer, didnt know". the former isnt bad characterization, but it is redundant- thats like the one thing we know about vash.

and of course. the fact that they fully replaced milly. and they didnt even replace her with someone who fills the same role! they made meryl the rookie (which doesnt suit her at ALL) and replaced the long-suffering senior with some drunk guy who wasnt interesting and didnt do anything. was he even in the original?? - i just checked. he wasnt.

okay its present-biggie again. sorry for the awkward ending but like. i dont really wanna draw any conclusions here bc i dont remember what my original conclusion was gonna be. i usually figure out what point im trying to make while i write these and i think i got stuck here, put it in my drafts to come back to later, and forgot about it. but theres some good stuff in here so im just gonna post it as is :3

[honeycoffeecafe]

Okay, I wasn't tagged, but I thought this looked fun to do. 10 characters from 10 fandoms, Honey version!

Optimus Prime - Transformers

Whatever continuity it may be, I love Optimus Prime (yes, even the Shatter Glass version). I was torn between him and Bumblebee, but in the end, I chose Papa Prime. He's such a Dad and I would go to war for him. Optimus is one of my comfort characters and he's also one of the fictional beings I wish were real because I'd give anything to receive a hug from him.

Erza Scarlet - Fairy Tail

One of my first girl crushes. It was thanks to Erza that I realized I also liked women. I loved how goofy she can be despite her seriousness, and her love for the Fairy Tail guild is extremely admirable. I kind of relate to her as well because she puts on a strong front despite her emotional baggage and all.

Kaeya Alberich - Genshin Impact

My original main character in Genshin Impact. I have been playing since 2021 and I did build other characters (out of necessity thanks to the Spiral Abyss and other game mechanics), but Kaeya remains as my strongest character. Idk why but I just fell in love with him when he was first introduced (the camera slowly panning up starting from his legs while he slow claps aergfeksdfvd).

Saitama - One Punch Man

Where do I even begin with this goofy bundle of overpowered-ness? I love how he's written, how he cares for Genos and his friends in his own way, and how he uses his strength for the good (though I do wonder how the world will be like if Saitama is a villain lol). His fight with Gorou is the best in the series as well.

Percy Jackson - Percy Jackson and the Olympians; Heroes of Olympus

If I could have a boyfriend, I would love it to be Percy Jackson (sorry, Annabeth saldfnkd). I love him so much, head to toe, and I keep re-reading the books over and over and over and over (especially Son of Neptune. He was so badass there aldsjfk).

Toothless - How to Train Your Dragon

Okay, let's take a break from simping and introduce someone wholesome. Yes, I love Toothless. I love his strength, his loyalty, and how he loves and cares for Hiccup and Berk. I was really sad when they parted in the third movie, though I can kind of see why it could be a good closure between Hiccup and Toothless.

Chika Amatori - World Trigger

Continuing with more wholesome, can I just say that Chika is mY BABYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!! Okay to clarify, majority of the people in the World Trigger AU are my babies (except for Soya Kazama coz he is my bae), but Chika is my number 1 baby, okay? Cute and badass, I love how this tiny bundle is such a talented sniper underneath that cuteness and timidness (I am getting redundant but please excuse me sksksksks)

Sung Jinwoo - Solo Leveling

MY MAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN seriously, I fell in love with him ever since the light novel days. I was so ecstatic when Solo Leveling got a manhwa, and I was even more excited when SL finally got an anime! I love him, I love his growth and development (though I wish manhwa Jinwoo got more development when it comes to his personality and whatnot coz LN Jinwoo was soooo entertaining). Also his outfits are 10000000000 out of 10.

Alice - America McGee's Alice, and Alice Madness Returns

Eyeliner goals. Kidding aside, she's one of my most favorite in-game characters. I love the setting, weapons, and plot, especially in Alice Madness Returns.

Bolin - Avatar: Legend of Korra

Last and definitely not the least, is my favorite himbo, Bolin. I love his growth in the series, especially when he invented lava bending. I was worried that he'd just remain as the comic relief among his friends but I saw how he developed and I think it's good enough (though it could be developed more. Bolin has so much potential tbh).

I wonder how it'll be like if they are in the same room. I think they'll just be talking to each other and vibing, though I can imagine Optimus to be a little awkward since he's so tall. I can also imagine Bolin to be the ice breaker between all of them since he's the friendliest among this bunch.

tagged by @irumaismybaby for 10 characters, 10 fandoms, and 10 tags!

1. Purson Soi 🎺 Mairimashita! Iruma-kun

i think this one was obvious afdsgbg. i just love him sm, and the fact that you can see little snippets of him from the beginning of the series is fantastic and you never know where he's lurking is just so cool. he's so relatable and just a really well written character (every character in mairuma is well-written i love mairuma sm)

2. Kageyama Shigeo 🌻 Mob Psycho 100

one of my favorite characters in mp100 it was hard to choose but i ultimately decided on mob! related to him so much i cried multiple times while watching the series (never skipped the opening it's such a banger). he's so nice and cool, and so damn relatable. he's got his funny moments too, despite being a strong psychic/esper he just wants to live his life regularly and not thinking himself as above others. this series is 100% fantastic, if you want a new anime to watch or manga to read, 100% recommend

3. Agatsuma Zenitsu ⚡ Demon Slayer

honestly i was so annoyed at him and his crying but realized: "Oh i relate to him" so that was a crisis /lh. but yeah i can see how his crying and whining can get annoying and get many fans to dislike him, but seeing his backstory, experiences, and just basic personality remove the crying. i'll be crying every day if i were him too. he's just so cool and awesome, he gets confidence whenever he falls asleep but when he wakes up his self esteem and confidence plummets, he only knows one breathing form but he mastered it to the T!

4. Akane Aoi ⏳ Toilet-Bound Hanako-kun

akane aoi! idk why but he's just really cool, part supernatural, clock keeper of the present. his 'love' for aoi is more of an obsession with her. his entire character revolves around her, and that's gotta spark some identity crisis within himself some day, i love it.

(lemon yamabuki is a close runner-up though i need more content of lemon)

5. Furuichi Takayuki Beelzebub

oooo boy this series is an old one but i still love it with all my heart. furuichi takayuki! best friend of tatsumi oga! the tactician/general of the delinquent school, ishiyama high! he's known as the 'Perverted' character and gets beat up for it a l o t in canon but i love how its not his ONLY defining trait, they also handled the pervert issue in my favorite arc in the manga and showed how one-dimensional and shallow the characters see him. he's so well-written and fleshed out and his entire character is *chef's kiss* i love him so much and can go in an entire rant about him but this is long enough.

6. Cheslock 🎻 Black Butler

he gave me so much gender envy when i first saw him. please he's so cool and despite his punk aesthetic he's a musical genius i cant wait to see him get animated. he's actually a side character but honestly i dont care i just love that he exists but is chronically underrated please-

7. Jun'ichiro Tanizaki ❄️ Bungo Stray Dogs

ok first up- his relationship with his sister is 100% WEIRD, there is a chance that theyre not actually related but it's still quite weird to do romantic acts with someone you openly call a sibling. disregarding that, tanizaki is a force to be reckoned with ngl, he's scary when he needs to be, his ability is strong and the way he utilizes it is amazing. he looks so harmless but he can actually kill you. i want his sweater right there it looks comfortable especially with the long sleeves i can hide my hands in as well

8. Zuko 🔥 Avatar: the Last Airbender

need i explain more. he's ZUKO. the ORIGINAL bad guy gets redemption arc, but done 100% RIGHT. they gave him a tragic backstory, stubborn and determined personality, funny personality and memorable quotes, and the most memorable hair journey. flameo hotman.

9. Anthony J Crowley 😈 Good Omens

i love him sm, he's so funny and cool, radiates sm gender envy too and i want to steal his entire closet. despite being a demon he's undeniably not Evil, he causes mischief efficiently, and i love efficiency.

10. Barbatos ☕ Obey Me

i don't know why he's my favorite he just is. he's so nice and kind in-game, he's efficient, competent, charming, i love him sm. he can basically do everything, a walking tea encyclopedia, likes heavy metal, and greatly dislikes rats. he can also control time and timelines?? so cool why dont people like barbatos more

and if you noticed that six of these fandoms contain demons/demonology, i'm wondering about that too.

i love tag games sm, thank you for tagging me again<3 despite liking tag games i dont know that many blogs enough to tag so if you see this you're very VERY much welcome to join in as well!

[judeswhore]

Random; do you ever get tired/annoyed by redundant asks? Not so much about being with girls/personal life (some of yall really need to get a grip on reality and fast) but the repeating scenarios. I know you have a lot of content posted so it is impossible to know if a topic has already been answered plus you do a really good job of not giving the same response 2+ times. Hope you had fun at the concert and rest up <3

not like overly tired, sometimes i get the same asks like 4/5 times and i just won’t answer them bc i feel like it’s pointless bc idk what more to say. it can be a bit boring to repeatedly get asked the same stuff bc u just sort of run out of things to see but the hey jude tag is really long atp so i understand that people might not have seen that i’ve already answered that same scenario and that’s okay. in that case i just wna say if i don’t answer u i am sorry it is just that i’ve probably already wrote something abt that and have nothing more to add so i’m not being rude. and thank u!! i had the best time i hope ur doing okay🫶🏻🫶🏻

[nitewrighter]

Okay I gotta come in here with additional propaganda, because like, has the Joker, in recent years, pretty much become an overwrought, oversaturated parody of himself (which is impressive to do seeing as he's already a clown)? Yes. Yes he has. However, that doesn't undo how much he's brought to the table as a character in previous years. Like, you can't look at the iconic voicework and acting of Mark Hamill, Heath Ledger, and Cesar Romero and tell me he's not one of DC's most prominent characters for a reason. (And Zach Galifinakis was a fucking delight in the Lego Batman movie). Plus, even as we do get sick of him, we're sort of in on the joke, as it were. Posting "We live in a society" and "having a joker moment" memes--like we know he's oversaturated and we can run with that joke.

Danny Phantom on the other hand--I see Danny Phantom in a DC tag and I immediately look at the tags on this post to figure out what's the new variant of DPxDC tag that I need to block. Danny Phantom is fine within his own narrative universe, but his presence is utterly redundant in the DC universe, but people port him in anyway because the show's been dead for years and they have to siphon off content for him from another IP to keep him interesting for themselves. Like you can't even argue that he brings a 'newbie' or 'fresh' perspective to DC because it's obvious the people writing him care more about Danny than the DC universe since pretty much all of their characterizations of DC characters are based in overwrought fandom tropes and woobiefication. Like... I'm sorry but Bitch Fartman can't hold a candle to decades of comic writers and as soon as you put Danny next to the Batfam, you can immediately tell.

Fuck Danny Phantom in particular. Send his ass to the Ghost Zone.

[wisebilly]

FAWKK

[theweasleysredhair]

An Exhibition of Muggle Duelling [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 2042

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Angry George is hot. He’s even hotter when he’s fighting. Based on that scene - you know the one - in Order of the Phoenix.

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Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: shoutout to kaylah ( @pit-and-the-pen ) for finding the pages that the fight scene takes place and sending them to me - literal angel, thank you sm my love!! ❤️ also the ending isn’t great, i had a breakdown trying to figure out what to write, but hope you guys like it anyway 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

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Gryffindor had won.

It was supposed to be a happy occasion, despite the song Malfoy had gotten many of the Slytherin students to sing, but as you ran down the steps from the stand and onto the pitch, followed closely by Hermione, you realised something was wrong, Malfoy’s laughter being the most prominent sound.

You approached the Gryffindor team, wanting to make sure Harry was okay after the fall he took at the end of the game, though seeing Katie and Alicia hugging him assured you he would be fine.

“But we couldn’t find rhymes for fat and ugly - we wanted to sing about his mother, see. We couldn’t fit in useless loser either - for his father, you know-“ you heard Malfoy jeer.

“You’d know all about being a useless loser, wouldn’t you Malfoy?” You spoke out, arriving by George’s side as his arm automatically moved to slide around your waist, his head turning in Malfoy’s direction, jaw clenching as he realised what he was talking about.

“Leave it,” Angelina looked towards you and the twins, particularly Fred who had taken a step in Malfoy’s direction, “Leave it, Fred, let him yell, he’s just sore he lost, the jumped-up little-“

Malfoy smirked in yours and Harry’s direction, a nasty look on his face as he sneered, “But you like the Weasleys, don’t you Potter? And you, L/n.”

He spat out your surname with a grimace. You felt George trying to move and gripped his wrist, running your thumb softly over his skin. He swallowed, hands curling into fists as he glared at the blonde boy.

“Spend holidays there and everything, don’t you?” Malfoy continued, laughing with his usual sidekicks, enjoying the way he was winding you all up, “Can’t see how you stand the stink, but I suppose when you’ve been dragged up by muggles even the Weasley’s hovel smells okay-“

George suddenly lunged forward out of your reach, his name leaving your lips just as Harry caught his arm, pulling him back and holding onto him, trying to prevent him from pouncing on the blonde.

Angelina and Alicia were holding Fred back, helped by Katie who had a grip on his shirt and one of his shoulders, though he was still struggling to get away from them, pulling them forward as they dragged him back.

Malfoy laughed again, the sound piercing your ears and making you scowl, “Or perhaps you can remember what your mother’s house stank like, Potter, and Weasley’s pigsty reminds you of it. And don’t get me started on you, L/n. The fact you’d even allow a Weasley to touch you-“

“You git-“ you yelled, moving to grab your wand. But before you could even throw a hex at him, Hermione grabbed your waist, keeping you back as you realised Harry had let go of George, and they were both now on top of the blonde boy, having shoved him down into the mud, throwing punch after punch. You stopped struggling as much as you watched the scene unfold before you.

“Harry! Harry!! George!! No!”

The Gryffindor chasers yelled out their names, but couldn’t do much more as they were still holding Fred back, who was still trying to get to Malfoy.

You held your wand loosely but couldn’t bring yourself to use it, watching as your boyfriend’s fist collided with Malfoy’s nose, his muscles straining and abs prominent as his Quidditch shirt rode up, showing off his toned back as he threw more punches, easily blocking Malfoy’s weak attempts at fighting back. He was swearing at the Slytherin boy, angry growls escaping his lips and you felt your mouth drop a little.

Swallowing, you couldn’t pull your eyes away from the scene, George’s ginger locks sticking to his forehead with sweat, both from the previous game and from fighting, a snarl on his face as he continued his attack.

You’d never seen him like this, so aggressive, so in control of his actual movements yet not his emotions as he allowed his anger to fuel him, his eyebrows furrowed, clenched fists accentuating the veins in his lower arms as he landed punch after punch, before suddenly Madam Hooch was yelling out, and he was hit by a spell, one that paused his actions - or rather, slowed them down.

Harry jumped to his feet, as the Quidditch coach yelled out, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Malfoy lay on the floor, curled in a ball however you could see his nose was bloody. Fred was still struggling to escape the grasp of the chasers. And George, his lip was swollen and he was breathing heavily, but otherwise he seemed okay, for which you were thankful.

He pulled his shirt back into place angrily, a string of curses being muttered under his breath. His hands were still pulled into fists, his biceps clenching under the jersey, his jaw tensing, before he and Harry headed up to the castle without another word, practically marching away angrily towards McGonagall’s office, under Madam Hooch’s orders.

Fred pulled himself away from the chasers, though he was careful not to hurt them, and they hesitantly released their grips, ready to pull him back again if he attempted to finish what his twin and Harry had started. He scowled as he turned towards the changing rooms, grabbing his broom and heading off.

Hermione let go of your waist and you stomped after Fred, who was grumbling under his breath, and though he nodded at you in reassurance he was okay, you knew the twins and anger didn’t usually end too well.

***

No one seemed to want to celebrate Gryffindor’s win after the match. In fact, you were sat in the common room completely alone, waiting for your boyfriend (and Harry) to come back from being reprimanded by McGonagall. Fred had sullenly stomped to his room a while ago without a word, simply kicking the wall beside the stairs in anger as he passed by it.

Even Angelina - who you’d expected to have been happy by her first win as a new Captain - had retired to her own dorm room with a frown, along with Alicia and Katie.

The common room felt odd, being so quiet, but you appreciated the calm. That was, until the portrait door slammed open and two familiar - angry - faces stormed in.

You didn’t have chance to acknowledge Harry before George had pulled you up off the couch and, despite his split lip, he brought you into a rough kiss, one that made your toes curl and caused your greeting to become muffled, his hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you.

His tongue ran across your bottom lip, before pushing into your mouth, desperately kissing you as though it were the last thing he’d ever do. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

You weren’t aware he’d started moving you until your back hit the stone wall beside the fireplace, his hand moving to grab your bum, travelling to the back of your thigh to lift it round his waist, his hips pressing against yours.

“Did you hear what he was fucking saying?” He mumbled against your lips, parting briefly to take a breath before kissing you again, “‘Bout my parents, and Harry’s Mum. And you- Merlin he’s lucky he didn’t say much more about you, he’d have had more than a broken nose, I’ll tell you that much.”

Your breathing was heavy, fanning across his lips as you replied, “Trust me, if he’d said much more, I’d have been right there with you breaking more than just his nose.”

He hummed, his mouth hovering over yours as his eyes grazed over your face, your leg still resting around his waist, your hands now gripping his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” You asked. Perhaps a redundant question, considering the events of the day, however as George briefly screwed his eyes shut before opening them again, you knew he understand what you meant - there was something else bothering him, and he knew you could tell.

“‘M fine, love,” he gave you a quick nod, before sighing at your pointed eyebrow raise, “Aside from being banned from Quidditch.”

You blinked, not expecting that answer, lips parting in surprise as his hand moved from your hip to your thigh, tracing random shapes on the skin showing, “Wait McGonagall banned you? She wouldn’t do that! She adores your team! They don’t stand a chance of winning without you!”

“Not her, the toad. Gave me, Freddie and Harry a lifelong ban. Can she even do that?” He swore aloud, his head dropping to your shoulder and you ran a hand through his ginger hair.

“Oh Georgie,” you breathed out, your heart almost breaking at the idea of him losing out on something he loved so much, “I’m sorry to say but you know as well as I do... she can pretty much do whatever she wants, sadly. She’s got the Ministry behind her. I’m so sorry.”

Your gaze moved to the back of your hand, where you knew there was light scarring from a previous detention with her, knowing that if she could get away with something like this, then she’d do it.

“‘S not your fault, is it? Should’ve controlled myself and not fought Malfoy. No matter how much the git bloody deserved it,” George curled his hands into fists as memories of the fight danced through his mind, a snarl setting across his features as he buried his face into your shoulder.

“He definitely deserved it. Least you got in a few good punches, eh? And if it wasn’t you, it would’ve been Fred. If it makes you feel any better though...” you trailed off, causing George to look up at you in anticipation of your next words, “I kinda maybe definitely thought that it was hot, the way you fought Malfoy. Just a little bit.”

He looked you up and down with a smirk, seemingly calming down at the revelation of this new information, “Me fighting is hot is it?”

“Oh Godric yes. You’re sexy when you’re angry anyway, but seeing you punching Malfoy?” You bit your lip and he let out a low groan, “Baby, that was attractive.”

George grinned cheekily, though a tad too wide causing his lip to split again, making him swear and dab at it with the collar of his shirt, reaching his other hand out to squeeze your thigh, “Well now I know that I might cause fights more often.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, watching as his tongue darted out across the cut, before leaning up to press your lips against his again. He kissed back immediately, almost as if he was waiting for you to do it, then began trailing kisses down your jaw, your eyes fluttering closed, before he pulled away suddenly, making you open them again, ready to protest.

“What is it about me fighting?” He asked, the corner of his mouth curling up, as if he was trying not to smile too smugly.

“Now you’re just begging for compliments,” you shook your head.

“Humour me. Humour me and I’ll go back to kissing you,” he countered.

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly moving to stroke his biceps through the Quidditch jersey he was still wearing, “Couldn’t tell you if I wanted to. Guess it’s your muscles...”

You pressed your lips together as your gaze caught his, “And how strong you are.”

“Strong?”

You hummed, fingertips dancing up his arms and towards his shoulders, “Oh yeah. You could hold my wrists above my head and I could struggle with everything I have and you’d keep me in place with ease.”

“That a hint?” His voice had dropped a few octaves as he brushed his lips against yours gently, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them against the wall above your head as you shot him a cheeky grin, gazing up at him.

“A challenge.”

His free hand was already moving under the material of your skirt, as he casually glanced over his shoulder towards the staircase to the dorm rooms, before pressing himself against you further, his lips hovering over yours once more,

“Oh yeah? Then challenge accepted, love.”