#p: out tonight

[bejinyoung]

out tonight.

@bejoomi

honestly, he didn't want to leave his apartment this morning. he didn't even want to get out of bed. and surely, the last thing he ever wanted to do was march himself down to that stupid kpop fan festival—the single most likely place where people will recognize a loser of a heavily marketed audition show—and expose himself to ridicule and ravagers who no doubt will want to mock him and his poor luck. for only failing two auditions in the past year, he certainly feels like his window of opportunity to be an idol is closing rapidly. the word failure still haunts his mind, even months after the program came to a close. honestly, if jinyoung had it his way, he would never show his face in public again.

but apparently the universe has other plans. or maybe just jung joomi, who for whatever reason seemed determined to get jinyoung to the festival. "my new band is going to perform for the first time for the cover contest you should come watch us" was the first text, which was a little tempting since jinyoung does like live music, and joomi's a decent musician so the rest of his new band can't be that bad... right? no, maybe they suck. jinyoung tried to get out of it by promising to come to the next gig after they've ironed out any kinks from their debut. but then joomi promised to buy jinyoung food and... well, he hasn't said no sharing a meal, especially one he doesn't have to pay for, in a very long time. if anyone asks, it's the only reason he went out at all today. he's dyed his hair since the show ended; maybe he'll get lucky and no one will recognize him enough to approach him.

it turns out that joomi's band doesn't suck too, which is a plus. jinyoung didn't try to force his way to the front of the crowd, it's not like he doesn't know what joomi looks like up close or something. but they had picked a landmark to meet up at once the show was over and jinyoung waits for his weird little friend to show up, half a water bottle in his hand in case joomi needs something to drink after being up there under the lights. jinyoung knows how dehydrating that is, but water is too damn expensive at this event and he was thirsty too. splitting it is the best joomi will get from him today.

"the crowd seemed to like you," jinyoung greets the other man as he finally approaches, handing over the water. he doesn't say if the performance was good or bad, not really being a good judge of those sorts of things himself. or maybe he's just loathe to give joomi compliments based on the history of this relationship and how new the friendship really is. he can be weird like that. "with cam and kou you have like... half of frost team in your band now." he thinks it's a little funny; only he and haneul are missing from the lineup. when they did so well that week, jinyoung was sure that they'd win overall. alas...

"is there anything else you wanted to do here? or else we should go somewhere else for food. these prices are stupid." he glances around, looking at the crowd to notice if there's any pattern, any must-see attraction that everyone is headed towards. jinyoung doesn't really have spare cash for fanmade trinkets or other merch at most of the booths here to begin with. "your choice though, since you're paying," he shrugs.

[ohproserpine]

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.

"Cher!"

Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.

Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.

"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.

Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.

Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.

"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.

"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."

"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.

Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.

"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."

“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."

Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.

"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.

He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.

"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.

He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.

The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.

"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."

Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."

"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.

You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."

"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.

"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."

"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.

"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.

"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"

"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.

"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.

"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."

"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.

So this is what it's about?

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.

Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.

"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.

His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.

"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."

Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.

“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”

A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.

Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.

But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.

"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.

"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."

With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.

Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.

"Then you shall suffer the consequences."

[mikeyrrevenge]

reading Where Are Your Boys Tonight (2023) for the first time is driving me insane. throwing here some quotes that made me short circuit:

"Pete would come to Misshapes because Mikey would go"

"I met Panic! at the Vegas Warped Tour date. They were young. Super sweet. Pete was like 'Hey, can you [MCR] meet these guys, they love you, you're one of their favourite bands'"

"Ryan Ross and Brendon Urie were like Lennon and McCartney"

"My Chem is really the band from this world that comes to mind as feeling very protective of the queer kids and young women in their audience. Which is why, even today, they still feel set apart from a lot of their peers."

"Everybody thought me [Travie] and William Beckett were a couple."

"I definitely have a photo of Gabe and William from The Academy Is... kissing eachother in New York City. I think at one point in time it could've broken the internet. Now i think everyone kind of knows that sort of thing was going on. I never did hear of anything beyond that happening between the bands. But i wouldn't be surprised."

"Definitely a presence online of fanfiction involving all sorts of guys from that Decaydance scene. There was some story about me [Adam Siska] and Ryan Ross being lovers, which i thought was hilarious"

"[Who was the best kisser? to Gabe] Definitely Pete. Maybe tied with William Beckett."

[energeticwarrior]

okay it's been a long ass time since i put together a dnp-related rant on tumblr but today is worthy of it jesus christ

Phil has seen every single version of Dan starting with when he was 18 ;__; If we are reduced to tears for the bits and pieces of Dan we’ve had the privilege of seeing, imagine the emotions for someone who has truly seen it all. He’s been w Dan literally thru every stage; before/during/after law school, depression, working together, moving 3x w one another, etc. I can’t imagine how emotional it would be to watch someone’s ups + downs for 13 years and then come out triumphant with a beautiful stage show. Like.. Phil is really someone who has seen Dan through his entire adult life. The beginning of it, the present, right up until the end.

We get emotional making comparisons of WAD to 'Hello Internet' because it's really unique to have your development as a person just pasted all over the internet. But all we have ever known is Dan's internet persona. Sure, we get pieces of his personality and we have a gist of what he's like, but we don't know him the way Phil does. Their connection is unfathomable and Phil knows him in a way no one ever will. We've heard of Dan's perspective going through challenges, struggling with existential crises, dealing with depression, seeking therapy, etc. We've heard those anecdotes after they happened; Phil lived it with him. Which is why I think today is just that important to Phil.

Phil got to see 'Hello Internet' before it was even posted onto YouTube for the first time. Fuck, he gave Dan advice and encouraged him to post for the first time. He supported Dan from the start. He has seen everything that we haven't, and now that WAD has come to a close and it's on YouTube forever, it's all come full circle. From helping Dan with his first YouTube video to sitting with Dan to watch this beautiful stage show on that same channel, Phil has been there with and for him since the beginning.

[thekidsarentalright]

fob is like yeah we’ll come on ur show and perform but only if we can do it silly style. if we can’t be silly we have to pass sorry but we have it in our contract that we have to be deeply unserious always

[bebegi]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞? ˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶

genre: forced confession [?] | fluff — gn!reader

warnings: joshu and death threats obvi hehe

series: jonathan — joseph — jotaro — josuke — giorno — jolyne — johnny — gappy — jodio

🎧 › goodbye morioh ! by lucas

notes: i giggled several times at this i'm so sorry

˙⋆.˚ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘸𝘣𝘪𝘦:

˙⋆.˚ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱:

© bebegi 2024. do not crop the tag or claim it as yours in any way please, do not repost in other sites without asking for permission + credit, thanks !! reblogs are highly appreciated <3

[leapdayowo]

snail

Had fun doing a 12 frame animation with this snail tonight :3 even if my feet hurt by the end :’) I managed to get all the frames done in about four hours which I think is a record for me👀

I had to make this when I was a few frames into the project cuz it was too silly not to :3

[flyingcatstiel]

I’m currently reading superbat fics (sorry, destiel, stony and dinluke, I’ll get back to you some day) and I’m having great time with commenting and authors replying to me. It’s a whole new fandom experience when I can read fics just for personal enjoyment, without planning fic rec lists. So much easier to comment, wtf. Anyways, I’m following 4 superbat identity p*rn fics right now, and it’s glorious. What a feast. My favorite trope, so many interesting ways to explore it. Happy holidays to all superbat writers but especially those 4 WIP writers🎄

ETA - here be some recs

ETA, March 2024 - HERE BE SOME UPDATES!

@pinkb00bsocks asked about those 4 WIPs. Here they are! The usual disclaimer - there are plenty of excellent superbat WIPs going on right now, but I've limited spoons and these are the ones I currently enjoy.

The World and All Its Hedgehogs by Ginevra_Benci [M. 8,007 word count, WIP, 4/?] To investigate illegal arms sale taking place at a tropical resort hotel, Batman goes under cover as a vacuous billionaire Brucie Wayne and Superman takes a part time job as a porter. They didn't coordinate this, they don't know each others civilian identities. Every time they talk there are at least 3 different conversations going on and it is glorious. Also, so much lust. ;)

(Also, check out Interviewing & Counceling series by the same author. Clark is having a superhero identity crisis and Bruce is there to catch Clark gently as he spirals down. It has one of the softest identity reveals in superbat fics. ETA - the series is now complete, it has 5 parts and 18k word count. Awesome ending to the softest identity reveal story)

Watching Our Stars Align by ClarkeStetler [M, 28,840 word count, WIP, 7/14] There's a dating/chatting app only for superheroes and all identities are secret. What could go wrong? Bruce and Clark get matched under their new pseuds, and same happens to Tim Drake and Conner Kent. Now fathers and sons gotta navigate complicated relationships that come with secret identities and judging your coworkers hastily while talking heart to heart to anonymous superhero. The identity porn part happens through DM, which just happens to be another favorite trope of mine. [The story is going strong, it has 10/14 chapters now and a wonderful tangle of 3 secret identities!]

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions [T, 27,281 word count, WIP, 4/10] This fic wastes no time getting playboy billionaire Brucie Wayne and pining-after-his-coworker journalist Clark Kent together. After that, first time uneasy partners Batman and Superman gotta solve a case and their civilian selves gotta deal with the realities of their one night stand. Complicated doesn't even cover it! [The fic is being updated and Clark and Bruce are being put through new trials, 6/10 chapters]

A Favor for a Friend by RedFive [Explicit, 18,286 word count, WIP, 4/7] Omega verse fic with alpha playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne and omega journalist Clark Kent. I'm fascinated by dominant, flirtatious, sexually ravenous alpha Brucie Wayne who moonlights as a stoic, covered in scent blockers thus unclear second gender, Batman. Meanwhile omega Clark, due to being Kryptonian, is much less ruled by his second gender. That is, until he meets Mr. Wayne. This fic has so much lust and tension between the two. Does accidental heat triggering counts as a soulmate mark? I'm gonna count it like that. [The fic has entered the finish line, only a chapter or two are left to finish this wild, explosive, life changing story of two people who were meant for each other. 8/? chapters, 44k word count] The fic is now complete!!! 9 chapters, 56,153 word count. (Also, there's this new TV show about two gay dudes, and istg, they look like Bruce and Clark from this fic. I'm not naming it here because I don't want to highjack the show tag with superbat post, but go and check the tag on tumblr)

*****

And a special shout out to two identity shenanigan WIPs that are not actively updating but are absolute must reads.

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat [M, 62,737 word count, WIP, 12/13] OK, so, for me personally, this is the ultimate identity p*rn fic across all fandoms I've read so far. This fic has one of the highest amount of secret identity pairs in superbat fics. There's the usual pining silently Batman/Superman, then there's Clark dating Bruce, Superman saving Bruce Wayne from peril, Clark Kent chatting with Batman. And the cherry on top is Clark writing Bruceman fanfic which is basically a RPF of his two friends, Batman and Bruce Wayne. Which leads to an internet friendship with a fellow fan, who is, you guessed, Bruce. This fic has great reflections on fandom and shipping culture. But the very beating heart of this fic is about how easy it is to lose something you wished to have but were afraid to ask for. The fic, at 12/13, is technically a WIP, but the main reveal is already done, and it is glorious. ETA - THIS IS NOT A DRILL, the fic is finished and the last chapter is a super meta cherry on a top of delicious, layered superhero identity and fandom shenanigans parfait. 13 chapters, 76,7k word count.

10 Things Every Brucie Fan Needs in Their Life by pomeloquat [T, 8,956 word count, WIP, 5/10] The main premise of this fic is hilarious and yet so, so right. Bruce Wayne is promoting himself as a nation's boyfriend instead of a playboy, and is making bank out of his wholesome, PG rated merchandise. The chapters of this fic tell continuous story but they also can be read as separate vignettes, so there's really no cliffhanger. This fic is so soft and fluffy, it will heal your soul. Also, Superman has celebrity crush on Bruce Wayne. Batman is amused.

[kedreeva]

Indie, whose leggies and color are nice but whose back end is terrible. He's a little train dragger, come to find out. That's okay, I can pick better conformation from his babies, he's here for color and personality.

[00fairylights00]

I hope this will be a healing message...... I keep thinking of making a high-humanity P laugh really hard 🥹 like doing or saying something he thinks is SO hilarious that he is literally on the floor, gasping for breath, unable to speak because he is genuinely dying with laughter.

Prolly would take some real tame shit to make him laugh like that too. Like a funny drawing.

I will keel over and die but in a happy, positive way. If you would allow me to add onto this though I’d like to think the higher the humanity the more his body reacts to touch, I think he’d be ticklish!

His head is in your lap, the usual resting place for him on sunny afternoons like this. The heat makes everyone sleepy and with Krat no longer under eminent threat P can finally just laze around and relax to his heart’s content.

The light turns his hair a chocolate brown as you run your fingers through it slowly, stopping every now and again to scratch at his scalp which earns you a happy hum and a beautiful, closed eye smile. Your other hand rests on the warm skin of his chest, visible through the opening in his shirt.

You can feel the steady beat of his heart under your palm, and the hand of his legion arm is laying on top of your own, squeezing every now and again to tell you that he’s not asleep, he promises he won’t fall asleep, he’s a liar but he’s happy and you don’t mind and he knows you don’t mind.

The heat is turning your mind syrupy but not enough that you don’t notice him flinch ever so slightly when the hand in his hair brushes against the length of his neck, his eyebrows furrow for only a moment but the idea is already in your head.

You only wish to test your theory.

As gently as you can you brush your fingers against his neck again, this time with far more intention. P jerks up, trying to escape your hold but you’re already one step ahead, having braced your arm across his front to trap him against you.

A beautiful sound falls from him, you can feel it through his back as much as you can hear it, he’s laughing! 

A proper, joyful, bordering on hysterical laugh. The sound was higher pitched than his talking voice, but was still rich and warm. You come to realise that this is the loudest he’s ever been, you don’t think you’ve ever heard P raise his voice. It’s nice to see him let loose, smiling big, broad and unabashedly.

With everything over and the state of his humanity clear, watching him navigate the ways he was taken advantage of was a careful thing. He’d become well acquainted with being angry and with being sad, so the moments when you could have him rolling on the floor, losing his mind over something silly was a blessing in every sense of the word.

You pushed him forward, the two of you wrestling against your bedsheets until you came out victorious. You sat straddled atop his stomach, digging your fingers into his neck as he squirmed and pleaded for mercy,

“Stop stop, I can’t breathe,” he laughed, throwing his head back and then pulling his chin toward his chest in hopes of trapping your hands.

You continued your assault of feather light touches, poking and prodding at other areas you thought might also be ticklish.

His chest, his armpits, his sides. It was the prod to his stomach that made him yell suddenly and almost throw you off of him entirely, as you tried to recover your balance he swept your wrists between one hand, breathing heavily as he tried to calm down.

“What… was that?” He asked breathlessly, smiling up at you dazedly.

“Tickling,” you hummed, also catching your breath.

“I thought I was gonna die,” he groaned dramatically, “do it again.”

“Catch your breath first,” you instructed, breaking your hands free of his grasp gently, “it’s nice to see you laughing, you deserve to be happy.”

His eyebrows turned upward as he soaked in your earnestness, a quiet thank you said with his eyes. His hands brushed against your outer thighs, you squirmed with a giggle and a mischievous smile took over his face.

“No,” you warned, “Pino don’t!”

He dug his fingers into your sides, copying your movements and making you squeal, he’d always been a quick learner.

[landgraabbed]

rowan thorne's apartment in oakburg

[throughpatchesofviolet]

One little known fact about Sherry is that she has a ridiculously high spice tolerance. The Sinners find this out on accident when dining out at a restaurant of Hong Lu's choice, where he tells them about a certain spicy mustard served there that they can dip their food in.

Most of the Sinners are incapable of handling the sting but Sherry just keeps eating the mustard. She's in tears and has to keep scrunching up her face, but she absolutely loves the burning sensation whenever she takes a bite. Hong Lu, of course, is very happy she likes it, and Ryōshū is mildly impressed she can handle it, but the other Sinners are a bit terrified of just how much spice Sherry can handle.

[guinevereslancelot]

starting to kind of date someone right before christmas is so stressful fr. do i get him a gift or what we've been on two dates but i'm seeing him tonight n it's christmas eve.....but what if he didn't get me anything then it will be weird.....

[blackjackkent]

Ask prompt fill for @astreamofstars for this ask meme: Major Arcana Tarot Rakha + the Emperor (card, not character) (Authority, establishment, structure, a father figure) Bit of a stretch from the prompt tbh (and I might have another idea for this one as well) but took this opportunity to get these two to talk. c:

-----

"What is it," Rakha growls, "to be the child of a god?"

Dame Aylin's wings are spread, nearly eight feet from wingtip to wingtip. She stands between Rakha and Isobel, her weight carefully balanced, her eyes narrowed and hard.

"Yes," the aasimar says coolly. "It has come to our ears that your blood carries a taint some might call divine. Dame Aylin has not been blind to a darkness in you - so keep distance, lest you prove a target for my blade."

Rakha doesn't move, except to spread her hands at her sides, showing them both empty of any weapon. "If I wanted you dead," she says bluntly, "you would have died long ago. My blood calls for it. Be grateful I stand against it."

Aylin's nostrils flare and her wings lift, giving a sharp and threatening flap. "You dare threaten--"

"Aylin, please," Isobel says in a low voice. Ducking beneath Aylin's wings, she rests a hand gently on her lover's arm. "She speaks the truth." She turns her eyes to Rakha, watching her with an expression that is guarded but calm. "You have struggled a long time, have you not?" she asks gently. "As far back as Last Light. I noticed you would send Wyll to speak to me, instead of yourself."

A muscle works in Rakha's jaw. She nods. "Yes."

Isobel nods slowly. Her eyes flick to Aylin, then back to Rakha. "What would you have of us now?"

Rakha's weight shifts from one leg to the other, a subtle fidgeting motion. "I would have her counsel," she says in a low voice.

There's a long silence. Then Aylin relaxes her wings a fraction and inclines her head. "Speak, then."

Rakha releases a long breath. "I must learn how to be what I am," she says. Her eyes fix on the hinge point between Aylin's left wing and shoulder. "Does Selune speak in your mind? Command your actions?"

Aylin frowns. "My mother's voice is a beacon of guidance," she says gravely. "It sounds within my heart and shines out from the silver of my shield. She need no more compel me to honor her than command the stars to move; it is in both our natures."

Rakha's eyebrows knit in concentration. "And Ketheric..." She remembers the splatter of blood as Aylin's boot crushed into the Myrkulite general's skull.

Aylin flinches. "An action my mother would not lay claim to," she says, slightly too sharply. "A fit of my own anger, to which I would not ascribe her silvered name."

"A choice, then," Rakha says slowly.

"My choice. Yes." Aylin narrows her eyes. "To what point are you driving, tainted one?"

Rakha says nothing for a moment. Then she shrugs. "My Father is... not like that," she mutters. "His voice... burns. It drives everything. It is everywhere. It is a goad, not guidance..."

"A parent not worth the name," Aylin growls.

"But I have no other." Rakha inhales sharply, grinding her fist into her palm with a sudden spasmodic jerk. "I think I envy you. I have never made the choice to kill. I have only ever chosen not to - at great effort. At painful cost. You say your nature is plated with honor. Mine is soaked in blood." Her jaw works. "I would like to make a mistake by choice. I would like to be kind without thought. But I can do neither."

Aylin's wings have relaxed back to her sides. The defensive anger slowly fades from her face - replaced by an air of pity that Rakha finds much harder to bear.

"Do not look at me like that," she growls. "Tell me if you can help me."

"I think I cannot," Aylin says quietly. "But know that I would, if it were within my power." A slight pause. "It is no easy thing, to carry divine blood. Your path may be darker than mine, but I know what it is to feel the weight of Her eyes upon me. In that... perhaps you may consider me a comrade, if not a counselor."

Rakha considers this, then nods. "Very well," she murmurs. "Thank you."

A pause. Aylin's wings flick wider again. "Know also that should you again threaten Dame Aylin's beloved, she will make another choice, and see your path, dark or light, ended by her own hand."

Rakha barks a sharp, humorless laugh. "A choice Selune would honor much more, I think."

[thekidsarentalright]

so much (for) stardust x celestial references

[boyofzoot]

Super Harvest Blood Moon 2024