#so when they kill them off then it's like well at least you had the lgbt+ story at all!

[gyaruhana]

Can u please write wlw smut for my glorious queen se-mi player 380

Se-mi/Player 380 - hatefucking

Synopsis: You and Se-mi can't stand each other so what better way to deal with that issue then fight for dominance?

A/N: i did combine this with another request for hatesex bc they both were wuh luh wuh so.. hope you don't mind!!

Warnings: smut content, choking, degradation, slight fight for dominance, fingering, it's hatesex..

If there was one thing you avoided, it was arguments. You preferred to avoid making enemies because; what was the point? It was far better to make friends than enemies who’d plot your death on the daily. Friends would be there to make you happy and comfort you when you're sad. Enemies would just laugh at you and pull you further down into the depths of sadness. That's why you always opted for only making friends and allies.

The only exception to this little rule was her. Se-mi.

Se-mi had been getting on your nerves from the moment you had both spared a glance at each other. There was something about her that reeked of over-confidence and judgement. The way she would look at you with that smirk on her face as if she thought she was better than you. It pisses you the fuck off and all you wanted to do was punch her face in so she could never smirk or scoff at you again.

Whether it was for good or bad, Se-mi felt the same way. You were always so nice to everyone, even to those who didn't deserve kindness whatsoever. It pissed her off that you'd try to be friends with everyone. Were you naive or just plain stupid? Whatever it was, she didn't like it. You were so happy-go-lucky as if you weren't trapped in this hell hole where people are being killed left and right. She didn't trust you at all because you seemed like the type who'd willingly stab someone in the back sooner or later.

In short, the feeling of hate was mutual between you two and, everytime you were near each other, there was a silent tension of unspoken dislike. Neither of you had actually communicated your dislike through speech, it was all just glares from across the room and the purposeful avoidance of each other.

Today, you unfortunately didn't have the opportunity to avoid each other like you two usually opted to do.

It was the third game and it was called ‘Mingle’. It wasn't a difficult game as long as you weren't one to crack under the pressure of a short time limit. All you had to do was form a group of whatever number was called out and then run into a room with them. The first four rounds went well for you since you were friends with practically everyone here and could always find a group to join.

When the fifth round came, the number two was called and chaos broke out quite quickly as people realized not everyone will be fortunate enough to get a room. As chaos broke out and lights flashed, you found it rather difficult to see who was on their lonesome and needed a pair. Luckily for you, you managed to spot the tall silhouette of someone who was on their own so you ran towards them and grabbed a hold of their wrist, dragging them into one of the last free rooms. You quickly shut it behind you as you let out a relieved sigh - glad you managed to find someone before it was too late.  

When you turned around, you were met with the unimpressed face of Se-mi. You almost let out a groan of annoyance at the sight of her. Maybe you should go back out there and just get shot. At least then she'd die as well and you could rest peacefully knowing she'd never plague anyone with her ugly personality again. 

“I'm not happy to see you either,” she says as she folds her arms across her chest and leans against the wall behind her. You let out a scoff of annoyance as the doors finally locked indicating the timer was up. Considering you'd probably be trapped in this room for a while until they clear out the bodies, maybe now would be a good time to confront her about her behavior.

“What's your problem? You're always such an asshole to me,” you say as you step closer to her. Your words may have been slightly aggressive but you couldn't help it when she was around. She just naturally got on every nerve in your body. In response to your words, she pushes off the wall and uncrosses her arms to step closer to you.

“My problem? You're the one with the problem,” Se-mi spoke as she looked at you with annoyance. The audacity you had to call her a bitch as if you were any better. Seeing you like this made her believe all your kindness really was an act for your own personal gain. That only fueled her hatred for you.

“You're the one who's been glaring at me since day one. You're a total fucking dickhead with your arrogant attitude,” you speak as you point an accusatory finger in her face. You were sick of how she'd act and the way she'd judge everyone silently. She needed a wake up call or something so she'd stop standing on her high horse. After all, she glared at you first. What were you supposed to do? Let her treat you like that? Hell no. You might be all for making friends but that doesn't mean you'll back down when someone chooses to be your enemy.

Then suddenly, out of the blue - her hand wrapped around your throat and she pushed you onto the wall. “I'd watch your mouth when you speak to me,” she says with anger bubbling inside her. Calling her arrogant? Who did you think you were? Someone needed to put you in your place.

You were taken aback by the sudden violence before grabbing her wrist tightly and glaring at her. “Or what? What are you going to do about it? Kill me?” you spoke sarcastically. You didn't fear her at all or the hand around your throat. It's not like she'd kill you. She couldn't have the guts to murder someone. You knew her type. Assholes on the outside, total pussies on the inside. They all just made enemies with people they assumed were weak so they could act tough.

She was quiet for a moment as she thought about your words. She couldn't kill you, no. You wouldn't learn anything that way (and she might get in trouble for that). She'd have to take a different approach if she wanted to make you learn a lesson about your bitchy behavior and, thankfully, she knew just how to make someone learn a lesson. She smirked for a moment before nodding her head.

“I won't kill you, no. I'll teach you a lesson,” she spoke before suddenly pressing her lips to yours. Her hand stayed wrapped around your throat, lightly squeezing to serve as a warning. You didn't expect her to kiss you of all things. It left you frozen in shock. Her kiss wasn't gentle either. It was rough as if its purpose was to silence you. There was nothing loving about it and, strangely enough, you found yourself actually being turned on by it. You didn't have feelings for her, no. You hated her but you were stuck in a place like this with no guarantee of a tomorrow so maybe a little hatefuck wouldn't be a terrible idea.

“Fuck, you're a shitty kisser,” you speak when she pulls away. She lets out a bitter chuckle at your words and shakes her head. “Thought I told you to watch your mouth?” She said as her free hand trailed down to the waistband of your pants. Oh, Se-mi was going to make sure you submit and watch your attitude towards her from now on.  “You think I'll listen to you?” You respond snarkily. 

“Oh, you will,” she says, her hand making it to your underwear as she gently traces the fabric of it. She moves her hand beneath the fabric and gently feels your entrance. “You're wet. You're just a whore, huh?” she spoke with a mocking smirk. She found it amusing that you were turned on by something like this. 

You were about to make a quick comment in response when she quickly slid her index finger into you making you let out a moan. God, you didn't expect her to do that so suddenly. She was full of surprises today. You quickly recovered from the initial shock as you noticed the smug look on her face. It drove you insane. If she thought she was teaching you a lesson like this, you'd have to teach her one too.

“Don't think you're in control,” you speak before grabbing the back of her head and pressing your lips to hers. Se-mi would be lying if she said she wasn't a little taken aback by the sudden kiss. She had assumed you'd fold immediately but apparently you were much more of a challenge. She smirked into the kiss before pulling her finger out slowly and then teasingly thrusting it back in. You let out a muffled moan at the feeling as you bring your free hand to the hem of her shirt. You lift it up slightly before putting your hand underneath and slowly trailing it upwards. 

“Might want to try harder to please me. You do a poor job at fingering a girl,” you speak after breaking from the kiss. She shakes her head with the smirk not leaving her face as she starts to thrust her fingers in and out of you quicker. “Oh really? Your body says otherwise,” she says, her hand tightening around your throat once more to serve as a silent warning. 

“I'm not even close to getting to cum. Can't you do any better?” You say as your hand that had earlier slipped under her shirt pinched her nipple. She tensed for a moment as her breath hitched, making you laugh. “What? That sensitive?” You tease and she sends a glare at you. She could try to dominate you as much as she wants but you weren't one to submit so easily.

She suddenly presses her thumb to your clit and starts to rub it roughly. The sensation makes you lean your head back against the wall as you moan. “Seems like you're the sensitive one,” she says as she watches your reactions carefully. As much as you wouldn't ever admit it, she was actually quite good with her fingers. She knew exactly how to move them and get someone to cum quite quickly. 

“if we weren't stuck here, I'd show you how good I could really fuck you,” you speak with a smirk as you look back at her again. “sure you could,” she responds sarcastically as she continues to thrust her fingers at a quick pace. She could tell you were close now as she felt you clench around her fingers.

“You're close, huh?” she says, clearly mocking you. You laugh breathlessly as you shake your head and look to the side. God, she was still such a cocky bitch. You looked at her before pulling on her hair and glaring at her. “When I cum, I'll make you lick your fingers clean, yeah?” you speak and the smirk on her face seems to grow bigger. Fuck, she really didn't think you'd still be acting so dominant. It was actually turning her on more - getting to fight for dominance like this.

With a few more thrusts of her fingers you came undone with a quiet moan. She slowly pulls her fingers out of you and you don't waste a second to grab her hand and pull it out of your pants. “C’mon, suck,” you say as you bring her hand to her mouth, her fingers wet with your cum. She looks at you for a moment before slowly putting her fingers into her mouth and sucking them clean of your cum. She pulls them out of her mouth after a few seconds and, as if on cue, the door unlocked meaning the guards had finished cleaning.

You both looked at the door before looking at each other again. “If you make it out alive of this place, I'll have to fuck you on my dildo next time,” she speaks as she steps back from you. “Looking forward to it- seeing you embarrass yourself, i mean,” you respond before walking out without another word and leaving her alone in the room. She watched you walk out before scoffing.

“She better make it out alive,”

[leoivys]

𝑵𝑬𝑾 𝒀𝑬𝑨𝑹'𝑺 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑭𝑬𝑺𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff, a hint of angst and implied smut

– summary; spending new years with your childhood best friend with who you spent a night with

– word count; 1.2k

– a/n; This is rushed, late, and my first time writing smut. But happy (late) new year! ♡

Your friendship with Jason goes way back, even before he became the vigilante he is today. When you used to play in the garden of the Wayne Manor and always ended up getting a bit too rough, leaving your knees bruised and bloody before Alfred would fix them up for you. The young boy would sit by your side and hold your hand as he muttered butchered apologies – he wouldn't hurt you. It was never his intention.

The small frown of pure concern etched on his face every time you got hurt as he rushed to your side in order to help in any way he possibly could always give you a feeling of security.

He was always there for you like you were for him, earning titles like his most trusted associate in the militia, his closest friend before and after what happened to him in Arkham, his first time.

That night, when you promised no romantic attachments to each other – even after you saw a grown man who had missed so much of his life due to what he had to go through so vulnerable under you; reacting to your every touch, letting you taste the desperation on his tongue as he pulled you in a bruising kiss to muffle any sounds of weakness his mind was encouraging him to let out for you to hear. A man people have learned to fear in such a short period was writhing – no, begging, for you to not take your hands off him.

Where had his innocence gone? You couldn't help but wonder how this messy, broken person that was currently kneeling before your frame was the same one you grew up with, and God help him, for he was so far gone. His cold hands rested on your thighs, keeping them in place; his touch gentle against the softness of your skin in contrast to his rough one as he made his best efforts to impress you.

Jason took his time, his logic skills? Long forgotten. A faint smile tugged on his lips. He allowed himself to feel the taste of your ‘essence’ on his tongue overwhelm his senses – visibly shivering while he found himself mindlessly admiring you as much as each and every one of your pleasant reactions. Communication skills? Completely turned off, and you could tell when you noticed him mumble incoherent gibberish all in a pathetic attempt to beg.

You were brought back to the present when Jason's sigh of disappointment echoed in the emptiness of the room, another group of militia soldiers had lost their base to the one person he made a promise to kill – the Bat.

His expression grew tired. You could tell, regardless of the mask that he hid himself beneath and all the armor he used to protect his scars, you knew him that well. As soon as the fuzz of the mask's robotic effect faded, you spoke up, “I hope you follow along with the plans we have.”

Your intentions were clear; try to get Jason to cheer up a little, and the bare minimum was to at least help him get his mind off of everything he had going on. Although, your remark earned you a huff of air before his mask was lifted by the press of one button. “Alright… You're a pain, you know that?” He responded with a playful hint to his usually serious voice, a look of defeat settled in his expression.

In your books, that was a win.

It's funny seeing how people ignore the cold for the sake of getting the preparations ready for their guests or those who are lucky enough to expect family members to come back to spend their holidays back at home. The house filling up with chatter and laughter in every corner is a miracle not everyone had the chance to enjoy.

Sometimes life doesn't turn out exactly how you expect. The kind of thoughts that consumed your mind weren't anything other than what you had done in your course of life, leaving your vision clouded.

“You're uncharacteristically early.” Jason pointed out with a tinge of playfulness to his tone. He never had the difficulty of calling you out on your bullshit. New Year's Eve. You had arranged something casual, changing into another year and hoping for the best atop a rooftop where the big screen of the city's center was visible, and a champagne ready to be opened after the countdown and emptied into the two glasses he had brought along.

It wasn't long until the countdown had already begun, people's voices echoing in the city's filled streets along with yours harmonizing with Jason's rough one. The light of the bright screens brightened its surroundings, making the thin layer of snow shimmer in the darkness the midnight sky had to offer – a sparkle that reminded you of Jason's eyes, but you quickly snapped out of it.

His drunken smile was a sight for sore eyes, bearing all of his teeth like he used to when he was less broken – his little smile. Jason’s gaze seemed focused on every part of you, and at the same time, he looked so out of it. You couldn't feel even just a little grateful that the alcohol had gotten to his head and momentarily lost the mask he had grown such an attachment to, so much that he preferred it.

It was the same Jason under all the walls he had built up around himself when his the most important years of his life were snatched away from his shaky hands, the very same that cradled you after nightmares that left you heaving and searching for your sanity among the most vulnerable pieces of yourself, the ones that you held onto during the freezing nights like this to stabilize yourself upon the ice that had settled on the ground.

Jason, with his fucked up past – one of the few ones who had every right to be mad at the world and rough around the edges to the world for turning its back, yet you were his world and he chose to be gentle. You were his witness as a feather-like touch ran down your arm and made itself comfortable over your hand.

The scent of the bubbly drink on the tip of his tongue brought you back to the present. It was clear that he was lightheaded, but part of him was still aware of his surroundings. Well, he was anyway, until he rested his head on your shoulder without a single care in the world. “I love you.” He muttered, his breath coming out in a cloud of fog in contrast to the coldness of the world.

The words slip out easier than he could ever imagine, but he means it. This time was unlike any other time before. He wasn't comforting his best friend or hugging them goodbye because he was leaving for a mission. It was a confession and a drunken one at that.

Jason hadn't lost himself. “Happy New Year, Jay.” You muttered. A sharp sigh escaped him as he allowed himself to get overwhelmed by the feeling of your hand rushing through his hair.

A new year comes with new beginnings, and maybe this year can be better than what you expected.

[fancyfeathers]

Always Prey But Never A Bird

Based on the Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling series

Previous Chapter <- Chapter Four -> Next Chapter

You woke up with a groan, your chest feeling so much heavier than before, your head felt as if you had just slammed it against a brick wall. It felt hard to breathe and your right arm and leg felt numb. You shifted on the bed you laid on, opening your eyes and you were blinded by the light above you which drew another grown from you.

“No, no, no, don’t move.” You heard a voice that you could not fully process as a hand came onto your upper chest, pushing you back onto your back, it was probably Dick’s voice you think, or maybe it was Tim. “You’re pretty badly injured from the crash, the old man is pretty upset right now, probably best to not to push anymore buttons tonight.”

You slowly came to, your vision clearing up and you would have felt sick if you did not feel terrible already. You laid on a very comfortable bed, your old bed, your current bed was rough, something you could just barely afford after saving expenses for other things. There was an IV in your left arm and bandages on your right arm, leg as well if you had to guess but your lower body was covered with a blanket. Your clothes had been changed, a pair of pajamas you remember having just got a day before you left. You turned your head to see Dick sitting there, a chair pulled up to your bedside, he had changed his clothing, black sweatpants and a dark blue shirt.

“What happened-“

“You skinned the right side of your body on one of the bridge wires, tore right through your suit, along with a bruised lung.” Another voice added on, Tim Drake, he was sitting on the other side of your bed, opposite side of Dick. “You could have died if it wasn’t for Dick.”

“At least I wouldn’t be here.”

“Someone tried to kill you and that’s what you have to say? God…” You heard Tim sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t even be grateful for having your life saved.”

“They weren’t trying to kill her, someone who was trying to kill her like that would have just tried to take a shot at her.” Dick spoke to Tim, speaking as if you were not even lying between them. “They wanted her alive, but they failed their mission cause she went flying off the bridge and would have died.”

“Can you two just shut the hell up, I already have a headache.” You threw your head back on your pillow, closing your eyes, but you were certainly aware enough to grab Tim by the wrist when he tried to brush the hair out of your face. “Don’t talk to me… just get out.”

“Nah, Bruce said not to leave you alone.” Dick responded, his fingers prying yours off of Tim’s wrist. You groaned at hearing his words, keeping your eyes screwed shut while trying to drown out the throbbing pain in your limbs. “You should try to eat or drink something, I think Alfred made you something in-“

“I’m not hungry, pass.” You felt a creak in your bones as you turned your body around onto your non injured side. The moment the side of your body shifted onto the bed you felt Tim’s hands on your skin, shifting your body and his body to bring your head to rest on his lap as if you were some small kitten who needed to be held. “Where are my things?”

“Why do you need them?” You heard Tim ask from above you, his fingers coming to run through your hair, scratching at your scalp. “You’re not going back out there like this.”

“My friends… they could be in danger-“

“They don’t matter right now-“

“They matter to me, Dick!” You cut your oldest brother off when he cut off your answer to Tim’s question. “If anything happened to them I would never be able to forgive myself.”

There was a thick silence in the room after your words, you heard the chair Dick sat in shift against the wooden floor of your room as he stood up.

“Bruce has your gear right now, he’s reviewing the footage from it to see who did this to you. I’ll see if he’ll let you use it.” You heard the door to your bedroom open and close after Dick’s words in response to your shout.

“…What happened to you?” You heard Tim ask, his fingers pausing in your hair. “You used to be so sweet.”

“I was only like that because if I acted up I would be punished.” You sat up, pushing his hands off of you and your right hand pulled out the IV out of your left arm, and you could hear the sharp intake of breath from Tim beside you. “Don’t think I never knew you put cameras in this room or that I never realized that when I misbehaved at all or pushed any of you away that you would spike my meals with a sedative and call my teachers at school and just tell them I was sick.”

“You never listened to us!”

“I shouldn’t have to! I should have grown up with just my mom because that is what she wanted to do!” You stood up, slipping out from the bed, you glanced at Tim and he had shifted as if to catch you as if you were going to fall. You were in slight discomfort but you had built an extremely good pain tolerance over the years so you were fine, but clearly they would never recognize your current strength. You scoffed at Tim’s worried reaction to you standing up on your own, shaking your head. “You still think I am weak… oh my god fuck you.”

“You know you’re not supposed to say things like that.” Tim scolded you at your usage of foul language. He stood up from your bed, reaching out for you, his hands coming to grip both of your shoulders. “Just stop-“

You leaned back, shifting your weight so you fell back, dragging Tim back with you. You extended your left leg up so it kicked him right in the gut, knocking the air from his lungs and sending him flying and crashing into your bedroom mirror, shattering it and digging into his skin.

“I will say the good thing about being seen as weak by you all is that I am always able to take you all by surprise, especially now, like I said that to Dick to get him out of the room.” You spoke simply before grabbing the chair Dick was sitting in just moments ago and hurling it at your bedroom window, breaking it with an extremely loud shattering sound that echoed through the room, probably the manor. You saw out of the corner of your eye, Tim slowly getting up so you did not waste a second, you went running to the window, jumping out.

You heard Tim shout your name, your birth name as you landed on the ground, but you did not stop running. You ran straight to the back of the garden, you knew that behind a bush, against the tall iron fence that surrounded the manor, there was a divot under the fence that you dug when you were bored as a child. It was perfectly hidden from view so that no one else could see it or find it, even now it was still there, water and rainfall over the years only making it deeper so you could crawl out of it still.

By the time you were on the other side of the fender you could hear shouting from back at the manor, at least Tim told Dick by now if not the whole house if they did not hear the shattering of the mirror and window. You did not look back, just kept running and running…

_______________________

“Hey, stop squirming so much!” Nettle scolded you as he pressed a disinfectant covered cloth against one of your broken window induced wounds on your arm. You had made it back to the warehouse in one piece due to running into Clove by chance when she was looking for you as her civilian self. “I’m almost done, ‘kay?”

“…fine…”

You sat on the dining room table while Nettle cleaned your wounds from the jump from the window, the others were all near, Foxglove digging into a pear for her breakfast as she leaned against the kitchen counter, Clove laying across one of the couches and Henbane’s lap as the two of the scrolled on their phones. Nettle snipped off a bit of bandage after he wrapped it over your wound on your arm before setting the roll of bandages and scissors down in the medical kit.

“There, all done, that wasn’t so bad was it?” Nettle asked you as he held his hand out to you to help you down from the table, you just mumbled out a response in thanks, far too tired to form actual words. “Let’s get you to bed-“

“My room is too far.” You whined, glancing up at the metal staircase on the back wall that led to the rooms which were old storage rooms that you renovated into your bedrooms. You let Nettle lead you to one of the couches instead, helping you lay down on it and pulling a thick weighted blanket over your shivering body. Your whole body was in pain now, you were barefoot when you slipped away from Wayne Manor which resulted in your feet ending up being fifty shades of messed up, bruised and bloodied. “Thanks, Nettle.”

“Anytime.” Nettle sat down on the ground next to your couch. He glanced up at you with a smile. “You’re off patrol for the next week.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” You groaned, throwing your head back which drew laughs from Clove and Henbane on the opposite couch.

“Look Mr. Austen needs to make a new suit for you and the tech is custom made because your old one is back… ya you get my point.” Foxglove chimed in, her voice trailing off. “But hey, you could take some time off for yourself, go get drinks, maybe have that boyfriend of yours over that you visited the other night.”

“H-how… how do you know about that?” You shot up, groaning in slight pain as you moved too quickly and your response drew laughter from everyone. “H-how- I turned off my comm line…”

“No you didn’t.” Foxglove spoke, her voice full of laughter. “No, you see you turned your camera in your mask on, looks like the rush of the moment got to you both.”

“…you… you all heard us have sex…” You lay there on the couch, wide eyed in the realization.

“Heard it… and saw some of it.” Clove answered and your face turned the brightest shade of red. “But hey he is really cute, definitely a keeper.”

“…my best friends saw me have sex with my boyfriend I haven't seen in four years.” You stared up at the ceiling and buried your face in your hands. “I wish I fell off that bridge.”

“Hmm well if you want you can have him over tonight, show him around while everyone else is on patrol and Foxglove is working the comm lines, have a nice stay at home date.” Clove suggested as she sat up from Henbane’s lap. “I think I picked up a really good red wine if you two want to split that.”

“Clove, thank you for your idea, but his idea of a stay at home date is getting food from a five star restaurant and watching a movie in his home theater. Or sometimes he’d order chocolate covered strawberries and we would hide in his mother’s office when one of my siblings, normally Tim, came looking for me.” You explained and there was a long silence from your friends as the reality of your old life set in. “And that red wine you bought cost fifteen dollars, the stuff his family bought cost five hundred dollars at the very least. I just- look I don’t know about him coming here, I mean we live in a warehouse, a nice warehouse but still, he is rich, like one of the oldest families in Gotham rich.”

“Well then… I’m sorry for what’s about to happen.” Clove said in an awkward silence taking hold of the room. “I messaged him on one of his social media accounts and asked him to come over and surprise you since you are sort of stuck here… I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine… he probably never saw it anyway, he’s busy-“

“Not too busy for you.” You made the mistake of looking away from Foxglove, not seeing her get up to go get the door with her crutches and letting in the guest that came knocking. You all turned your heads to see the familiar blond boy you spent that night with just the other day. Gabriel was let in through the back door, carrying something that you assumed to be a gift basket, all dressed up in his thick wool coat and scarf along with those Italian leather gloves he always wore. He smiled at the sight of you laying down on the couch, he set the gift basket down beside the couch and bent down to press a kiss to your lips as you opened your arms to him in your tired state. “Hi angel.”

“Hi love.” You responded, before gesturing to Gabriel and looking at all of your friends. “His is my boyfriend, Gabriel Christel. We met back in middle school when I first moved to Gotham after my mom married my father and then we started dating in high school and well you all know the rest.”

“It’s lovely to meet you all, thank you for looking after her.” He looked around at all of them before his eyes fell over to Clove and a look of recognition came across her face at the sight of her. “You’re Clove, right? Thank you for reaching out to me, I think we are going to be very good friends.”

“I hope so.” Clove smiled as she stood up from the couch, glancing around at everyone else in the room. “We… we should go, we got patrol and… ya… you two have fun.”

“We will.” You replied to Clove as she pulled Henbane up from the couch and Nettle quickly followed behind her as well, going to get changed and prepared before patrol. You looked back up to Gabriel who was standing over you and as soon as he saw your eyes were on him, he kneeled down onto the carpet, on eye level with you so you could press a kiss to his cheek, just under his eye. “Hello handsome.”

“Hello beautiful-“

Gabriel was cut off by the sound of someone clearing their throat and you both turned your heads to look at Foxglove standing just a few feet away with her crutches due to her injury on her foot that she was recovering from. She smiles at Gabriel, looking him dead in the eye.

“I like you a lot, but hurt her at all and we will destroy you.” She spoke those words with a smile, but there was a certain chill about them that would probably even make your father shudder. “Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Good boy.”

_______________________

“My bedroom is the last one on the left.” You spoke as your boyfriend carried you on his back, one hand reaching back and holding your thigh and the other carrying that gift basket, your arms wrapped around his neck. He pushed open the door and stopped for a moment, before walking forward and setting you down on the bed. “Thank you, lovey.”

He looked around your bedroom as he came to sit down beside you. Old floorboards creaked beneath his weight, the walls were brick with white pants covering them, slowly chipping away from the top down. The ceiling was high with all sorts of pvc pipes and air vents, the windows were tall but the glass was thin. The bed was an iron bed frame, polished and then painted over black and then the dressers and nightstand were all sorts of different pieces you found and painted over the years.

“Foxglove is downstairs on the comm lines tonight.” You said as you laid down on the right side of the bed, propping yourself to sit up against your pillows. “So it’s just me and you until patrol is over.”

“Ya… I suppose it is.” He set the basket at the foot of the bed and reached in and pulled out a bottle of red wine and a glass, you watched as he filled up the glass halfway and handed it to you. “Here you go, dove.”

“I love you.”

“Mmm, are you saying that to me or the wine?”

“Both.” Small laughs escaped from both your lips and he wrapped his arm around you as you took a sip of the red wine from the glass. You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. “I missed this… I missed this a lot.”

“So did I.” He replied to you, there was a palpitate pause in the air and he took a deep breath in and out. “Angel… how long are you going to be doing this?”

“Doing this?”

“Living in a warehouse, being a vigilante, hiding away from everything? I mean look at you, your body is so fucked up and I don’t even know what caused most of it.” His voice took on a heavy tone of concern which felt like a large weight on both of your shoulders. “I want to settle down and have a life with you, I don’t want to worry about where you are.”

“I… what are you saying?” The air left your lungs as you watched Gabriel stand up from the bed and walked over to your side of the bed, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling over a small navy blue velvet box and getting down on his knee.

“Marry me.” You just stared down at him and a bit of a bashful smile came across his face as a small chuckle slipped from his lips, shaking his head slightly. “It was my great grandmother’s ring and I know I couldn’t ask your mother or father for their blessing but no one hardly sees your mother anymore and your father… well he doesn’t like me and well I don’t know if they know you’re around anymore and-“

“I… I don’t know…”

[thedemonscrawler]

Is there a certain way you go about the characterizations of the different incarnations of Eclipse?

Their motivations!

So at his core, Eclipse is an angry, paranoid, spiteful, arrogant, lonely, possessive, socially-inept person who can't communicate to save his own life. No matter where in his life you're writing him from, these traits persist.

The differences come in what his goal is, and which of his core traits are being amplified because of it.

I've written the Original Eclipse the least, mostly because I actually got interested in the show following his death 8'D. This Eclipse is the most closed off of all of them, the least likely to change his mind, the angriest and most vindictive. He hasn't been betrayed yet, he hasn't really failed yet, so his arrogance is at an all time high.

On the flip side, after his defeat and expulsion from Sun's head, this is also the rawest point in Eclipse's life. There's a lot of good fics about scraping his broken ass out of the woods and patching him up, and for good reason. Strip his arrogance away with his loss, and he has nothing.

My favorite is the Backup Eclipse. Eclipse 2.0, my beloved! Still arrogant, still angry, but spite is his strongest trait. He was defeated and he knows it, and he's learned that he needs to be a bit smarter in manipulating those around him. By escalating the game to the next level when he amplified Moon's kill code (giving us the guy, Kill Code), Eclipse started a chain reaction that is STILL going on in current canon.

The Backup is my favorite because his characterization runs from one end of the spectrum to the other. He comes back as a bedraggled version of himself, forced to deal with basically being Bloodmoon's prisoner while also getting them to work for him. He manages to enact one victory after another, culminating in him actually gaining the star. He did it, he won!

And then he fucking crashes.

Possession and loneliness are his strongest traits in the second half of his arc, and he picks up depression as well. Spite has become bitterness. Eclipse was never supposed to win, and he knows it. The star was only ever a means to an end, a way to get Moon's attention. And when Moon resets himself... Eclipse doesn't know what to do. He attempts to respark that rivalry, but New Moon isn't interested.

With no goal to latch on to, Eclipse crumples under his own misery and lack of purpose. On his way to winning, he destroyed everything that made his life interesting.

And then he got space lasered.

And then finally Eclipse 3.0, the Recreated Eclipse. I don't make a distinction between who he was before Lunar blew up his body and after, though I know some folks do.

Eclipse 3.0 starts off with anger, of course, and a lot of confusion and desperation. For a good amount of time in there he was p much feral. This one is mired in self-pity, and lashes out because of it.

Because that's what makes this one really interesting. He's picking up from where the Backup left off-- he has no purpose. I think he sunk his claws into the goal of 'find my creator' just to HAVE a goal. He's also interacting regularly with other people for the first time in his life(s), even if he does spend a lot of time taunting Moon for stuff that neither of them were personally there for.

Two things, I think, really helped Eclipse start stabilizing. The first was, uh. Solar's death 8'D More specifically, it was Puppet giving him an impossible task to focus on, and Eclipse always needs a goal. The second was Earth started socializing him. Which I love-- hell, I wrote that myself back in Sunk Cost. Earth always had the advantage of not being personally victimized by Eclipse like her siblings were, which let her be more tolerant of him.

Eclipse in his current state is still arrogant and possessive, and his people skills still suck. He's 'better' as a kind of side effect to Puppet's request; bringing Solar back, doing this Super Important Thing That Even Moon Failed At? Was a major ego boost. Eclipse learned a very important lesson:

Doing good things gets you attention and praise.

Which is why I think he had such a rocky start with the new dimension Sun and Moon 8'D He was chasing the high of being the hero, at the cost of actually paying attention to what was going on. He knew how things were supposed to go, that made him The Smartest. He's a good guy for extremely selfish reasons XD

But he's also finally made it to where a lot of fanfic authors have gotten him. A little less lonely, a few wounds healed. He does have people he cares about, without any intent for manipulation involved.

So yeah. I guess in summary:

Original Eclipse (Upright): Vindictive, angry. Would bite your hand off rather than take it Original Eclipse (Reversed): Lost, bewildered. A feral animal, but one that can be tamed.

Backup Eclipse (Upright): Spiteful, serious. Lost the game once already, has no intention of losing again. Backup Eclipse (Reversed): Bitter, desolate. An Eclipse without a purpose, can be coaxed onto new paths. Still will probably bite you a few times first. Recreated Eclipse (Upright): Arrogant, possessive. The end goal of many a fanfic, actually able to get along as a functional member of society... mostly. Recreated Eclipse (Reversed): Feral, desperate. Clinging onto what fragments he has in a life he didn't ask for, and hating every second of it.

Idk if that was useful but there you go!!!

[hunterofartemis7]

Adopted by the gods AU pt.15

Anticlea: *holding an ice pack that Hera gave her to her cheek*

Laertes: *sitting by his wife rubbing her back*

Zeus: I deeply apologize for the way my daughter acted today. She is never like this. I assure you, she will be punished for thi-

Laertes: thank you lord Zeus, but that won’t be necessary.

Apollo: your wife got slapped in the face twice by one of the eldest goddesses on Olympus and you don’t want her punished? Bro you need better priorities.

Laertes: I at the very least want her to apologize for..that and for us to figure what ACTUALLY happened that night. I don’t believe Lady Athena just took him and made up this story of us abandoning our son. Something had to have gotten lost in translation the night she found him.

Aphrodite: found her! *dragging Athena in by her arm*

Athena:🙄

Hera: *crosses her arms* Athena. Do you have something to say?

Athena: I’m only here to find out what really happened my son.

Aphrodite: *elbows her in the ribs*

Athena: ow!

Hermes: *flies in* okay! Got the spell from Hecate!

Anticlea: what does that do?

Hermes: this will show us what really happened, from both your perspective.

Zeus: and when this is over, you will apologize to the queen first the way you acted

Athena: *rolls her eyes* when it shows my son was abandoned, those people will stay the fuck away from my kids.

Hera: and when it doesn’t, you will return both boys back to their home kingdoms.

Athena: THE FUCK I WILL!!

Hermes:….okay! Let’s get this show on the road! *throws the vial on the ground and blue mist surrounds them, showing a vision from the day Odysseus was taken*

*The vision shows baby Odysseus being taken from his crib in the middle of the night by some random man. Laertes sends the guards out to chase the men and they follows him to the waterfall, where he throws the baby off the edge. It then shows Athena catching baby Odysseus and hiding behind a tree when the guards look over the edge for. It shows the guards leaving and Athena taking the baby back to Olympus. She flies to the palace where the captain tells the king and queen that their son has died and his body wasn’t found. What Athena heard made it sound like the king and queen planned to kill Odysseus, but in reality they were just in shocked that their newborn son was dead. She had flown off before she could hear the queen break down in tears*

*the vision ends, and all the gods look between Athena and Anticlea*

Hermes:…….so at least we know this was a huge misunderstanding *laughs nervously*…this is awkward.

Anticlea: I told you I never abandoned my own son.

Athena: he’s not your son

Anticlea: are you still going to be like that!? You just saw with your own eyes what really happened—

Athena: and that doesn’t change the fact that neither you or your husband actually looked for him, and I’ve been the one raising him for the past 11 years! You might have given birth to him but he is my son!

Anticlea: need I remind you that you were the one who hid him when he fell!?

Athena: he would’ve died if I hadn’t!

Zeus: BOTH OF YOU ENOUGH!!!!

Anticlea and Athena: *shut up*

Zeus; where is the boy? He needs to know the truth

Odysseus: *comes out from under the table with Diomedes* right here grandfather, and I heard everything.

Zeus: well that saves me some work.

Athena: Odysseus…

Odysseus:….*runs up and hugs her*

Diomedes: *follows and hugs her too*

Athena; *drops to her knees and hugs them both close*

Hera: Odysseus, since you heard what really happened, it seems you have a choice to make.

Odysseus: *let’s go from the hug* what do you mean?

Athena: yeah what do you mean?

Hera: the boy knows he’s the real heir of Ithaca, and that he wasn’t abandoned as you previously said. So it seems he has a choice; stay with you till he turns 18, or go with his birth parents now.

Athena: over my dead body is he going with them!

Hera: you don’t get a say Athena.

Athena: he is still underaged and I’m still his mother! There is no choice to be made here!

Apollo: wouldn’t Anticlea have a say in this since she’s his birth mother?

Athena: stay out of this!

Apollo: yes ma’am!🫡

Athena: and no she doesn’t because she didn’t raise him!

Laertes: lord Zeus, if I may. I don’t want to lose our son again after just learning that he is in fact alive, but I don’t want him taken away from the woman who’s raised him either. Isn’t there some kinda of compromise we can come to?

Odysseus: how about we forget this whole thing and I stay with my mom and brother?

Hera: the boy needs to learn how to be king Athena.

Athena: I can teach him that. Besides he has 7 more years before he can even become king!

Artemis: than just do that. Both boy stay with Athena till their 18, and in that time she will teach them how to be kings.

Laertes: or at the very least until they need to become kings

Artemis: what he said.

Hera: I suppose that could work. Athena? Could you comply with this?

Athena: *sighs* if I must.

Odysseus: what!? Mama I don’t want to leave you!

Diomedes: me either!

Aphrodite: you won’t be leaving her immediately, just when you become adults. By then you’ll be sick of her and want to leave anyway

Athena: hey!

Odysseus: *clings to her leg* never!

Diomedes: *clings as well* yeah! We’re never leaving mother!

Zeus: you both will when it is time for you to become kings. End of discussion.

Anticlea: wait, does this mean I still won’t get to see my son for another 7 years?

Zeus: well—

Athena: that’s exactly what that means

Hera: Athena!

Athena: I’m not going to make Odysseus go somewhere he doesn’t want to!

Zeus:..*sighs* if the boy wants to visit his birth than he shall, but he cannot be forced.

Athena: *mumbles* thank the gods.

Odysseus: *buried his face Athena’s side* yay

Diomedes: *does the same*

Athena: *holds them close*

Hera: now I believe there’s still the matter of an apology that you owe Anticlea for slapping her.

Athena: *rolls her eyes* I’m sorry I hit you, after you called me a bitch in my own home😑

Zeus: just go

Athena: *takes her kids hands and leaves*

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

And of course, I’m loving the throuple. Here’s a chance to let loose on some throuple feels:

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼

- Sarah

THANKS!

135 for 1k for 🔼:

---

“Does it always feel like that for you?” He asks carefully. “When I’m working?”

“Always? No,” she says. “Just… Sometimes. When I hear you’ve almost died…”

“Right, okay,” he nods. “So, it’s not like…”

“Oh my god,” Shannon realizes. “Eddie, I’m not asking you to quit.”

His face washes with relief. “Oh.”

She gets why he thought that. She can see it clearly. That was always the fight, right? Why did he enlist? Why did he reenlist? Why couldn’t he be there? At home, instead of at work. An argument that had never ended. She had grown to resent his job, the military, so much that she still gets a prickle of annoyance when she sees a soldier romance novel or movie. Not that that’s entirely fair. The army didn’t make him sign up without running it by her. 

“It’s different,” Shannon says. “I know they’re not the same.”

“Okay,” Eddie says. “Okay, good, because I… I really do love this job, Shannon. It’s not just…”

“I know,” she says. “I’m not suggesting you leave. I’m just saying it brought all the same feelings back, when I heard about the well, as when they called me and said your chopper went down.”

He nods a little, eyes downturned. 

“It did for me, too.”

Shannon looks at him, stunned. He never talks about that. Usually gets annoyed when she tries to bring it up. Or at least, he did. Back… Back before. 

“That must have been hard,” she murmurs.

“Yeah,” he says. “It was.”

It’s not a lot, but it’s more than she’s used to. 

“I know you… I know you’re not reckless or someone who tries to get hurt,” Shannon says. “I’m not… That’s not… I guess, just, what if the worst happened?”

“If I died? On shift?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, or… I guess it’s not even just about at work. I mean, I got hit by a car in May. That could have easily been worse,” she says. 

Eddie’s mouth tightens. “God, I don’t want to think about that.”

“Me neither, but…”

“But we have to, is where you’re going with all this?”

“Yeah,” Shannon agrees. “I think we have to.”

Because one of them could die. Eddie, at work, easily. Either of them, out of work, in some freak accident. Crossing the street… 

“Okay,” Eddie says tightly. “What, uh… What do you want to… To talk about?”

“We should have a plan,” Shannon says. 

“A plan?” Eddie repeats. 

“Yes, a plan,” Shannon says. “Because after feeling sick about the idea of you being gone for an hour, I… I wondered, what the hell would I do?” 

Eddie thinks about this. 

“If I died, I mean… That would be hard, but-”

“Shannon, that wouldn’t be just hard. That would destroy me,” Eddie says, voice deadly serious. “Don’t play that down.”

Shannon is quiet for a second, a little thrown off by the intensity of his words.

“Okay, uh… I just mean… You could literally afford me dying. I can’t afford you dying. And, yes, obviously it would devastate me, too. You know it would. I’m just not sure how I’d keep us going… All three of us, without you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, you… You could-”

“No,” she shakes her head. “Not… Not with all the resources Chris needs, Eddie. And babies are so expensive. Medical bills, without your insurance? I couldn’t. I have no education or qualifications-”

“Shannon, I’m-”

“Not your fault,” she cuts him off. “Just the way it went. But, would we survive? Sure. Maybe. Would we thrive… I don’t know. And tell me you think your parents wouldn’t sue for custody.”

“They would,” Eddie agrees. “They totally would. If it’s any consolation, I think they’d sue for custody if you died, too. They don’t trust me anymore.”

“So?” Shannon shrugs. “We need a plan. For if either of us die. Oh, god. If both of us died.”

“Why would both of us die?” Eddie asks. 

“Do you remember the tsunami that nearly killed Buck, Chris, and I?” Shannon asks.

“That’s not going to happen again,” Eddie says. “Right? That’s definitely not a normal thing.”

“Eddie! How many people do you see die tragically every week?” Shannon huffs, slightly exasperated.

Eddie dips his head. “Too many.”

“Too many, right,” Shannon nods. “So let’s just have a plan for the most tragic thing, okay? Because I’ve almost lost you twice.” 

Eddie takes a deep breath. “Okay. Okay, you’re right.”

“Thank you,” Shannon sighs, relieved.

“We should update our wills, and… And if… You know, if I did die, you know Buck would… Buck would help you.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like you and he are married, it’s not-”

“No, I mean he’d want to,” Eddie says. “In either case… I-in any case, he’d want to help with the kids.”

Shannon considers this. He would. She knows Eddie is right. Buck wouldn’t just step out of their lives because Eddie died.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Sooo I been thinking a lot about the fandom reception of Caitvi, and Caitlyn Kiramman herself, and how that reception is negative compared to other, equally or more morally dubious characters and toxic ships. More specifically I've been thinking about my perception of Caitvi and Caitlyn, because I wanted to do some introspection on why I dislike her and the ship compared to others, to evaluate if it really is internalized misogyny or holding female characters to an unfairly high standard or if there was an objective reason that made people react more negatively to this ship/character than others. I came to some conclusions, that if you've been curious about this discourse, you may find interesting, but it's kind of a long read.

While I think in situations like this there is always a factor of implicit misogyny, I've come to the conclusion that, at least for me, there are bigger reasons to why I dislike the ship (and Caitlyn) that may speak to other fans as well.

On the outset, looking at it objectively, Caitvi should be one of the least toxic ships in the fandom. They're pretty much the only one that at no point actively tried to kill each other (Ekko was going to kill Jinx on the bridge, even if he did stop himself, Jinx tried to blow him up along with herself like four times and also fired a machine gun at him. Vander and Silco,, well we all know what happened. Jayce blasted a hole in Viktor's chest. Viktor didn't try to kill Sky but he did. Maddie uhhh fucking tried to shoot Cait in the neck) I think Meljay is the only other mainstream ship from this show that didn't try to fucking murder each other at any point. So why is Caitvi disliked, or at least considered unilaterally less wholesome than Timebomb (who takes the cake for "murder attempts per ship" while also managing to be considered the least problematic in the fandom lmao)?

I came to the conclusion that it ultimately boils down to the ending. I loved Caitvi in season one, I really did, and I kept loving them throughout the beginning of season 2. Caitlyn made mistakes, and she was a cop, but it's a show and I can look past that, Vi made mistakes too. They started to lose me, not when Cait asked Vi to become a cop, but in the later scene where we learn from Maddie that Caitlyn had had Vi enlisted as an enforcer despite her outright rejection of the proposal AND after apologizing for said proposal. This is a huge violation, but Vi's lesbian ass was just touched that Caitlyn complimented her while doing it, so it never gets brought up and she agrees to go along with it? Don't love that. It's literally never brought up. Maybe I got the timeline bungled since it happens off screen but,, yeah.

We then see Caitlyn terrorize the undercity with fucking toxic fumes, as many people bring up. I actually don't think it's OOC for Vi to have gone along with this, she's shown multiple times that she is in support of any level of brutality levied against the people of the undercity as long as they're the ones she doesn't like. No, what got me was when she was aggressively threatening Huck with borderline torture in Stillwater, the thing VI HERSELF EXPERIENCED, and she pulls her aside not to reprimand her, but to make out with her and ask her not to change.

HUH?

Remember in S1 when Vi got incredibly mad at Jayce for "bandying the threat around" when he threatened to arrest her, and got justifiably furious at the unfairness of Topsiders who have no idea what Stillwater is like to wantonly throw people in there to rot? Where was that energy, girl?

Then of course is the part where Caitlyn strikes Vi in an already injured spot to punish her for not letting Caitlyn shoot at a child, which, characters in this show are always being violent to each other, every other ship is. If we can get over Ekko repeatedly pummeling Jinx in her FACE we can get over this, but here's the kicker-

She reduces Vi to her lower class status before hurting her. "I keep telling myself that you're different, but you're not."

In that moment, all of Caitlyn's "ally" sentiments to Zaun fly out the window. In that moment, Vi ceases to be "one of the good ones" to her and she resolves in her abject bigotry towards Zaunites. Vi is no longer worth the dirt at the bottom of her shoe because she's just a Zaunite, like her sister. That's the kicker. The Caitlyn from season 1 who genuinely wanted to do good is gone. She doesn't care about doing good anymore, she only cares about punishing Zaun for existing.

And I think this is why people dislike her, because with most other characters, they consistently wanted to do good and thought they were doing the right thing even if they were absolutely wrong.

Viktor thought that turning humanity into flawless, mindless robots would eliminate suffering.

Jayce constantly fucked up but every fucked up thing he does is because he thinks it will help people.

Ambessa wanted to protect her family and was willing to make any sacrifice to do so.

Singed wanted to save his daughter and was willing to make any sacrifice to do so.

Mel wanted to keep Piltover and Jayce safe.

Sevika wanted the Undercity to be independent and free

Silco is the most similar to Caitlyn in this regard, because his character was mostly motivated by wanting revenge against Piltover, but at least somewhere in his little rat brain, he felt like he was doing it for Zaun and so the people of Zaun could be respected, free, and prosperous.

Caitlyn just wanted revenge.

And then we get to the ending. In the last couple episodes every single character is punished by the narrative for their crimes. With only two exceptions.

Singed and Caitlyn.

Jayce, Viktor, Jinx, and Ambessa all fucking die (I'm not discussing theories of the first three being alive because this post is only going into what the show actually shows us so for the sake of this argument, they dead)

Mel loses the man she loves, has to kill her own mother, and leaves the city she loves to return alone to Noxus.

Ekko catches a glimpse of everything he ever wanted, gives it up to save his own timeline, and the girl he loves still fucking dies and he is left completely alone.

Vi loses her sister and what's left of her dad, and it's her fault Jinx dies, and she has to live with that, and the only support system she has left is her partner who called her a slur then hit her

Cait uhhhh *checks notes* loses her eye. That's. That's all that happens to her. I mean her mom died but that was before she went off the rails, not after, and I think the only character who ended the series with an alive mom was Jayce so it's not like that makes her unique.

Now I can actually see how making her disabled in this way would be an interesting narrative tool, similar to the end of the Comic Nimona, where the Cop love interest becomes disabled when he finally tries to fight for something good, and in doing so his disability frees him from the role of being a cop, without which he can live peacefully and happily. If they'd taken this approach with Cait it would have been very interesting, because she's a sharpshooter. If her newfound lack of depth perception compromised her ability to do her job, and she was no longer an enforcer, that would be an interesting ending.

But they do nothing with that. She's still a cop but she has a cool eyepatch now. Like what a fucking waste.

Now I do know that she supposedly learns from her mistakes. She clearly knows what she did was wrong, she lets Jinx go, despite Jinx being her white whale the entire fucking season, which is a huge sacrifice to make and she does it because she loves Vi. That's sweet, it is, and she gives Sevika her seat on the council I guess to show that she reformed her hatred of Zaunites. It's good that she did those things.

But the fact that she is never held accountable for the worst of the things she does, not by the narrative, not by Vi, not by any other character, and the story ends with her STILL being a cop indicating that she actually learned fuckall, and most importantly: The series ends with her, a cop, who has been violent and discriminatory with Vi before, being Vi's only remaining support system.

Her odds of becoming a victim of the 40% statistic don't look great.

So I hope this explains my and other people's issues with Caitlyn and Caitvi. Ultimately I don't hate the ship I just don't like it, and I'm not some anti who takes issue with other people shipping two Consenting Problematic Adults from "Problematic Adults: the Cartoon, inspired by Problematic Everything: The Video Game." I guess I just wanted to put out an explanation for why I and others don't like them in the hopes of reaching some understanding in the fandom. I'm glad to have my canon problematic lesbians at the end of the day.

[tuesday-teyz]

Butterfly Reign chapter 40 😧

Hi!

First of all, I just wanted to say how much I love Butterfly Reign—your writing is incredible, and I’ve been absolutely hooked from the start. I think I started reading when there were only about 10 chapters out, which feels like a lifetime ago!

I just finished chapter 40, and I’ve been thinking a lot about the direction the story took, particularly regarding Theseus and Wilbur. Their relationship has been such a complex and emotional journey, and I’ve really enjoyed seeing them work through their issues. Honestly, it’s crazy to think back to when I first started reading, and how I would’ve been rooting for Theseus to get his revenge, but now, with everything that’s happened, I didn’t expect the story to take such a tragic turn.

While I’m still deeply invested in the story, I’m curious about a few things—particularly the choice to have Wilbur die. I’ve been wondering, how long have you had this planned? I noticed the MCD tag from the beginning, so I’m wondering if this was always the direction you intended to take their characters or if it evolved as the story developed?

I’d also love to know your thoughts on Theseus’s actions here (without giving away any spoilers ofc). In the context of the story (obviously not condoning murder in real life 😭), do you think Theseus did what he had to do? Do you see him as someone who is still redeemable, or do you think that this was a mistake in his journey? I ask because, even though I’ve been the number one Theseus defender (his rights and wrongs) throughout the story, I found myself struggling with this moment. It’s the first time I’ve felt so conflicted about his character. I’m really curious about your perspective as the author, especially when it comes to the moral complexities in his decision.

Thank you so much for sharing this story— and I can’t wait to see what comes next! (even though i'm not yet willing to except that it shall continue BR!crimboys-less) at least give me hope for Br!discduo if nothing else

Hi, thank you for the ask, it made my morning!

To answer your questions, it's a little complex when exactly the decision came about. In my original outline back in 2022, this whole scene did not actually involve any fire. Instead, it was Theseus and Fundy stranded on the lake as ice begins to crack. Wilbur gets Fundy to safety first, and then when he comes back for Theseus, they fall through. From there on, there were two versions of this scene that I fluctuated between: one, Wilbur cuts the rope connecting them and lets himself drown, and two, the same happens but both of them get saved by a third outside force. This is followed up by Wilbur falling into a coma and being absent for the rest of the fic, sans the epilogue where we see him awake. Simply put, it was never my plan for Wilbur to be present in the final arc; he simply has no place there. His story was always meant to end in this chapter.

However, as time went on, I realized that using a coma is a very cheap (for the lack of a better word) way to write off a character, and his death by sacrifice did not feel right. As I mentioned in another post, br!Wilbur was, off and on, for nearly a decade, br!Tommy's abuser. To have someone who caused so much pain for him die saving him didn't sit right with me. Tommy was working for so long on accepting his past and unlearning the behaviors Wilbur brought up in him that it felt like an injustice and a poor message besides to basically say 'oh well he loved you at the end of the day'. And exploring his death from the point of view Tommy being relieved by it and feeling guilty at the same time is too repetetive of the story itself from when Wilbur ran away the first time. That's when the decision for Tommy to kill Wilbur was born.

So short answer: Wilbur's story was always meant to end at this moment. The idea for murder hatched during the travel arc.

I could not tell you exactly when did I realize that the plot was heading towards Tommy killing Wilbur, but I very firmly stand by the point that it's something that has been brewing up in the background unbeknownst even to me. The thing, Tommy has always been a killer. You have always known him as one (Clara was killed by him 3 years into the past), even though you didn't know his full backstory. An important part of this arc in its entirety is that it's Tommy unpacking and healing from the trauma he experienced 6 to 3 years ago. When Tommy gets sick and Wilbur takes care of him – that's 11 year old Tommy getting closure from Wilbur leaving him behind, and trading their family for the life of a commoner and a family of his own. It's not about them learning to be different in the future; it's about them mending the past. At no point at all this was meant to be about redeeming Wilbur.

Off to the next question: was this necessary? Did Tommy do what he had to?

Not at all. I address that in the chapter itself. I believe it's three different times that an image of Clara tells that Tommy must do it, meaning kill Wilbur, but the only time Tommy voices that thought himself (after the dialogue with Warden), the must changes to can. It's him taking agency over his own choices and acknowledging that he has this option and it's his decision to proceed with it. He tells Wilbur not to make excuses for him for Clara's death, knowing he's about to commit the same crime again.

As to how to feel about his actions – that's entirely up to you. You're not meant to feel a certain way about any of the characters, and especially not Tommy, but I am curious to hear your guys' thoughts and analysis. What do you think?

[freestyle-crocodile-trashpile]

Smooth

Summary:Your more than just a criminal, your a smart one. No recklessness with you

Type: Scenario:??:Arthur Morgan & GN!Reader

Verison:rdr2

~

"How'd you do it?"

Arthur looks at you, the one person in this camp who actually looks out of place. You look sweet, young, noble even. People don't see you as a criminal- not even a horse rider half the time. You can walk into a town and rob them clean and everyone still loves you. He's watched you walk past people who have hunted him and other camp members for their bountys- your like butter, slipping through every crack like it's nothing, slipping through obstacles and dodging bullets by walking straight into them.

"Mm? What do you mean?"

You turned to Arther, furrowing your eyebrows at him. He could mean maybe things, theirs more than one thing you do. You fish better then him, hunt small creatures, smooth talk people, kids, theirs so much he could be talking about. It's not that your better than him, just a tad bit smarter.

"You...your so damn good at bein' a criminal. How? It's like your made for this, but you only joined us last year at least"

Arthur seemed actually frustrated by this. He's had to kill so many people because of this line of work, and you practically just smooth talk them into killing themselves. There zero trace of you anywhere- while he's fighting bountys off his hat. With a hum you looked forward again at the lake. You two and gone hunting and where currently camping out. It was just you and him. And... actually kinda nice. Arthur doesn't talk to much alone, just a few things here and there. The silence of nature was lovely.

"Well...when you think before hand it helps a lot. But, I just understand the brain, Arthur. When you know more it helps out a lot. Its why I can hunt and fish better than you too"

Arthur huffed, finding your words a little annoying. He wasn't stupid, just reckless sometimes. And even then it's not often. Arthur thinks things through, so why are you still so much better than him? What's he doing wrong.

"I ain't stupid, so yeah are you so much better. Why don't you get hunted like me?"

Your chuckle pissed him off a little, looking at you with a small frown. When you looked over at him, all smug with a big ol' smirk he wanted to just go to bed. He hated talking to smug people.

"When you look less rugged and like a beast people see you less as a threat. You big Arthur, bigger than me. And I have a more...gentle approach to things."

Arthur relaxed abit. As much as he hated that answer, you were right. He was a much easer threat then you, if he didn't know you then he might've just waved you off. It's a good thing you went to Dutch instead of him, Arthur would've ignored your request with how small you were. When you shifted Arthur looked back over at you, noticing the more sad look in your eyes.

"you see, I grew up poor. Got use to using my innocent look to get things. People saw me and women pitied me, gave me things. And when I realized everyone looked at me and just saw a kid, I started to steal."

Arthur hummed, liking that answer much more then you just getting the people. But still, he wanted to smack that smug look off your face- only because of how smug you were, not you, he just hated that smug look. Arthur has come to enjoy putting smug people in their place, it's more fun when his not target is a smug bastard.

"I just learned that when you look sweeter, less healthy the people are less likely to question you. I mean, why would a brittle person kill a brute? Doesn't make any sense."

No wonder you looked like you'd snap. You weren't necessarily skinny- well, that he could see. Your clothes much bulk you up abit, you just had that look of weak bones that he didn't understand. There was always something about you- something that made him tick. Not in a bad way, he didn't dislike you like Micah or Bill. Arthur was just a little frustrated with how well you do when you've barely been with them- to him this is your first time. But there's so much he doesn't know.

"we should sleep, there's a elk we gotta hunt for the camp. Good night Arthur"

Arthur made no move as you stood up, walking over to your tent to snuff out the oil lamp and adjust your bedroll.

"Yeah, we should. Night, Kid"

There was a grunt behind you as Arthur stood up. He waited until you laid down before putting out the fire and snuffing his own oil lamp. It wants to cold so he wasnt worried about his blanket. You were definitely an odd person, so much to discover- and to much for his impatience ass.

~

[A/N:Red Dead has been eating away my brain cells guys. I hope you enjoyed]

[justplainwhump]

Nobody is Coming

Bradley isn't picked up from school.

Both canon in the later arcs of Pet Safety and Angel, set shortly after Pirate Lady.

Content / warnings: Recovery, loss, the feeling of being left behind, implied parental neglect. An unlikely pair of hurt people maybe about to grow together. Implication of BBU setting.

Bradley was perched on the little stone wall by the school's music wing, his guitar case next to him. Class was over, but he wasn't going to be picked up.

"Your pet is never late," Mr Oliver, the music teacher, commented after a long stare at his watch.

Wrong on so many levels, Bradley thought. But he didn't say it. He didn't ask him to call Rosa by her name instead of her status, either. He had done so, hundreds of times. Stood up for her, or at least tried to. And she hadn't even turned around when she left him.

"She's not coming," Bradley said.

Mr Oliver frowned. "Well. Who is?"

Bradley shrugged. "Nobody."

"I'm going to call your Da-" He stopped with a sudden flush of redness burning on his cheeks. Bradley gritted his teeth. He'd internally dared him to say it out loud.

Dad. Dead. Mom. Refusing to answer her phone. Probably drunk on mimosas in some day spa. Sister. Ran off to California first chance she got. Rosa. Rosa. Left with a stranger without turning around.

"Nobody." Bradley repeated stoically.

"Well, I'm going to call someone to pick you up."

Bradley shrugged again. The police, he wondered. Social services?

"Isn't your uncle in town, too?"

Tim.

Bradley shot his teacher a long look. Was Mr Oliver the only one in town who hadn't excessively read every single detail about the drama that had left both his father and uncle killed?

"Dead," he said shortly.

"Aunt?"

I don't have an aunt, he wanted to say. But he did, he realized. Angelina. The woman his mother blamed for literally everything that had happened in the past horrible months. The one who 'destroyed the family'.

She hadn't, Bradley thought. Their family had been rotten within. Angelina had just brought all the rot to the surface.

His mother would hate it.

"Um." Bradley said. "Yeah. I guess."

He didn't have her mobile number, but he found a landline in Uncle Tim's contact.

Mr Oliver turned away as he called, but someone did seem to answer, because he started to quickly speak into the phone.

"She's coming," he said to Bradley, after he hung up. And then, with a sudden gravity to his voice, as if he'd just now realized that Bradley had indeed had some pretty not great weeks, he added "I'll wait here with you."

-

Twenty minutes late, Angelina Harris turned around the corner in Uncle Tim's sleek black Mercedes. When she got out, the wind played with her long blond hair, billowed into the light blue coat and exposed her white silk blouse and tight blue jeans.

Next to him, Mr Oliver sucked in some air. Bradley grimaced. Yeah. Some men did that, when they saw her.

"Ms Harris," he said and strode forward to clasp her hand between both his. "So sorry for your loss."

Angelina tilted her head politely, her mouth curved into a tiny, pained smile.

She was better at the act than himself, Bradley figured. Whenever someone offered him condolences he couldn't do anything else but shrug it off rudely.

He jumped from the wall and pushed himself and his guitar through them, breaking off his teacher's grasp of her hand.

"Thank you for waiting with me, Sir," he said. "My aunt has got it from here. Bye."

Almost embarrassed, Mr Oliver stepped back, as Bradley stowed his guitar on the back seat and slid onto the passenger seat.

Angelina got in at the same time, pulled the door shut, but didn't turn on the ignition.

Instead she turned over to face him, hands in her lap, one eyebrow raised.

"Do I?" She asked.

"What?"

"Have got it from here? It sure doesn't feel like it." She frowned. "Why me, Bradley?"

He didn't look her in the eyes. He tried to count the freckles on her cheeks instead. "Rosa left," he mumbled. "Everyone left."

"Why me? Your mother hates me. She-" Angelina paused, suddenly pale under her freckles. "Wait. What happened to Rosa? Did your mother do something? Did she send her -"

Bradley shook his head. "Mum doesn't even know yet, I think." He stared down at his fingers. "Rosa just walked out."

"Pets don't -"

"Call her Rosa," he snapped. "She's a person, the only person who ever -" Cared about me, he thinks. Loved me. But she didn't. He had seen what love looked like on Rosa's face, when the stranger rang at their door. She'd never loved him.

Something cool wrapped around his wrist and only belated did he realize it was Angelina's hand. "Don't." She said. "Don't hurt yourself."

Numbly he started at his knuckles. They hurt. A little blood welled up from a small cut. He'd punched the window.

"Sorry," he whispered. "Sorry, I-"

"Can you drive?"

The question was so strange, it stopped him from rocking in the seat.

"I'm fourteen," he said plainly.

"That's not what I asked."

"I'm not allowed to drive."

"Can you?"

He remembered hours on the parking lot of the closed convenience store, Sloane by his side, patiently guiding him. Their plan had been to take the care and just drive West steadily. Change drivers, when one of them would have to sleep, Sloane had explained. Get away from their parents influence as quickly as possible, and build up a new life somewhere else.

She'd done it, in the end. Without him.

"Yeah," he admitted. "I can."

"I can't," she said, just as plainly. "You drive us home."

"You got here, somehow."

"Barely." She dropped the key on his lap.

"It's illegal."

"Fuck the rules." She seemed startled herself by her words, but also somewhat... delighted.

Stunned, Bradley took the keys.

They didn't get out to change seats. On some silent agreement, she slid over onto the passenger seat under him, before he shifted to the driver's seat.

"Rules that only enforce oppression need to be broken." She bit her lip, and the matter seemed to important to her, that Bradley didn't see fit to tell her that traffic rules had been implemented to safe lives. It probably wasn't the point here. "Rosa broke your mom's rules and I hope she found freedom." She looked at him from clear brown eyes, a stare so intense that he couldn't break free. "She broke your rules, too, Bradley, didn't she? But if she's a person, as you say, and as I think she is, too, these rules ate wrong. Have been wrong, for all your lifetime. The rules were her prison. And she left it."

Her smile was soft. "It's good that you called me. You were wrong, thinking that I've got it from here. But I think I'm a step closer to figuring it out."

She didn't say So are you.

He heard it anyway. And maybe, she was right.

"Tell me where we're going," he said, and turned the key in the ignition.

Angelina leaned back in her seat, squinted at the blue afternoon sky.

"The sea," she suggested. "What about that?"

Bradley smiled.

[skyheld]

"You can't blame yourself." from asharen to ameridan

ASKBOX MEME 059 / ARCANE S02E07-09 | selectively accepting | @mercysought

It's the second time he leaves a place where he was meant to die.

Stands up on shaking legs, brushes the dust of time off his clothes and picks through the remains of his old life for things he needs to keep. There isn't much left, now. He gave most things away when he joined clan Lavellan, to the few friends he has made in the last ten years, or to the clan itself. He had no need or interest then in riches or treasure. Only a few keepsakes.

Some people watch as he comes out of the aravel. The last few weeks as his strength waned he left is more and more rarely, and while many come to visit him, there are some faces he hasn't seen in all that time --- faces of those he was never close to, or who felt too uncomfortable to sit in a room with a dying person, seeing the way life left him a little bit more each week. When he steps out now with a small pack slung over his shoulder and the staff in his hand, he stands straighter than they've ever seen him. There's strength in his legs, carrying him down the landing, and in the hand that holds his staff. His eyes are unclouded, his lungs draw deep the air of the forest around them. But he doesn't look at those faces, even the ones he loved most dearly. He's afraid they'll turn away.

And anyway, how can he ask for them to look at him? How can he deserve a heartfelt farewell from these people when he failed them so utterly? They took him in so he would be safe, so he would know peace. He risked their lives, allowing a demon to possess him. He brought them war.

Thanks to that they live, but he isn't sure that matters.

"I do not blame myself", he tells Asharen as they meet below the aravel's deck. She sees through him, of course, sees the guilt clawing at him from the inside, but it isn't blame. "I did what I did to save them. Now I live with the consequences. I just wish... I wish there'd been another choice."

Hakkon looking out through his grey eyes, seeing the things he sees and adding his thoughts and emotions to Ameridan's mind, blurring them both. Hakkon coming to him that night when the clan was attacked, Hakkon's strength in his dying body, Hakkon tearing their enemies to shreds, laughing with Ameridan's voice but not his laugh, not his joy in the killing.

He wishes the others didn't have to see it. That they didn't have to look at him now and know that the one they called hahren and bestowed the name of their clan is an abomination. That his back is straight and his hands strong and that he stands in the sunlight again because something else is standing with him.

Ameridan Talvas Lavellan, he was for a while. But he cannot use that name anymore.

"We should be off", he says. A little further away, others are waiting for them to catch up. New faces, but they seem like good people. The one they call Rook has put together a capable group. Harding. He'll need to tell her too when they reach their sanctuary.

He's not sure if it's grief or shame that wells up and fill his eyes with tears, but he turns quickly, lowering his head to brush them away. He wanted to stay here. He didn't want to die, but he was ready to let it happen as he knew it would; he got the peace he always yearned for, and if it had to end, at least it would end in the best way possible. But now all that is different, and that peace is gone.

You are making this so much harder than it is. Hakkon has been quiet in his mind, and now that he speaks it sounds like mockery. And yet he is right in a way. Staying here, thinking about what he's walking away from makes the walking harder. He needs to just leave. Without another word he brushes past Asharen and joins the others, giving a single nod of his head when Rook asks if he's ready for the walk to the nearest eluvian, if those are all his things, is he is alright---

But before they've reached the edge of the camp, where signs of recent battle are still visible, blood drying brown in the grass where Hakkon's battleaxe tore throats and chests open, someone cries out behind them. A girl has escaped her parents' vigilant eyes and come running, calling his name.

Elirin. She's lost two front teeth since last he saw her. When he was strong enough to sit by the fire and tell stories, she'd ask for ones with Da'harel in them, then curl up with her head on his leg and pretend to be a very small wolf while he spoke. Now she wraps her arms around his legs and sobs into them until he manages to untangle himself from her grip so he can crouch down and hug her properly. Her parents wouldn't want him to. They'd worry about the demon. But he can't push her away, and he knows there is no danger.

She's holding a straw hat, like the ones the members of the clan make for themselves and to sell. At first he thinks she must have just been working on it when she saw him leave --- it's clearly her handiwork, childish and clumsy and therefor lovely --- but she presses it into his hands.

"Oh", he says, as his hands close round the brim. "Is it for me?"

She nods, her face set with determination.

There clearly is no fighting that. He would hurt her if he tried to decline. Blinking away more tears he takes the hat and puts it on --- it's a little large, probably not made for him to begin with, but it stays in place if he's careful. There are places where the straw sticks out and places where the woven pattern breaks. He loves it. One of the adult's perfectly crafted hats wouldn't have filled him with as much love as this one. "Thank you", he says, voice brittle. "That should keep me safe from the sun in Antiva."

Satisfied, Elirin turns to run back to her parents. Ameridan straightens up. The straw hat casts a shadow over his face until he turns back to the others, facing the sun.

Ameridan Talvas Lavellan. Maybe he keeps the name, at least for now.

"I'm ready", he says, and this time he feels it. "Let us go."

[thefreelancebioexorcist]

Though his body was quite literally dead when in Downtime, his mind was not. Internally, Betelgeuse was in front of an old chalkboard, writing down everything he could about their situation past and present that could prove to be relevant. After a time of scribbling, he had filled most of the board with information on their previous lives and their current lives up until now. From all this information, he came up with the following questions, which he had written off to the side:

Where has Delores been this entire time?

Why hasn’t she appeared before this?

Why now?

Was she after him?

Was she after Lydia?

Was she after both of them?

These were the questions he’d take to Juno, and hopefully it would give them some direction. He didn’t think it was possible that Delores wanted a quiet afterlife. That she wouldn’t seek retribution for her murder, even if she had deserved it.

Feeling better to have a starting point, Betelgeuse came back to himself, only to regain consciousness to Lydia straddling his lap, kissing him sweetly. Of course, he didn’t move at first, savouring being woken up in such a way, but soon he couldn’t help himself, and his hands moved to her hips, the ghost looking at her fondly when she pulled back from him. He nodded at the suggestion of pizza, his grip on her hips going slack as she hopped off his lap.

Betelgeuse watched her place their order before she disappeared into the kitchen, and he sat up on the couch and stretched his arms high above his head, feeling his bones creak as he did. Then he got up, and followed her into the kitchen after a moment or two, watching as she busied herself with tidying up before grabbing something for them to drink. He eyed the bottle she had grabbed with interest. That was a rather expensive bottle from her father’s stash. He wondered where she had been hiding it, and if this was better saved for a special occasion rather than a stressful one. He was pulled from his thoughts as the door rang, and he moved to answer it, only to be immediately told off with a look. “Hey now, Netherworld delivery folks woulda killed fer that quality o’ lizard, honey,” he explained. “It was one o’ my best ones, too…”

The pizza was excellent. At the sight of the container of dried crickets, Betelgeuse pulled her in for a kiss. He knew she wouldn’t kiss him after the crickets. At least until he brushed his teeth.

When they were done, and Lydia went to the kitchen to put away the leftovers and grabbed their drinks, Betelgeuse popped into her bathroom to clean his mouth out. By the time she returned, he was back on the couch. He took the offered bottle and after taking another look at her face, he opened the bottle with a quick twist of his wrist and poured them each a serving. Lydia’s was, of course, a smaller helping. He was well aware of her limits with alcohol. And even though they had joked about getting drunk, even he didn’t think it was the best idea at the moment.

“This ain’t easy fer me t’ admit, babes, but…I’m uneasy about this whole thing, too. Delores killed both of us, an’ I killed her fer killin’ you. Furthermore, she didn’t even get what she wanted, so I imagine she’s pretty pissed. But I don’t know if she’ll be more angry at me…or at you in order t’ get back at me.” He took a sip of his drink. “As fer what you’ll do when I’m gone, it’ll be like any other time I’m not here. Yer gonna get up in the morning an’ go t’ class an’ work as usual, babes. I don’t think I’ll be gone fer long. I’ll be back every night, promise.” He indicated the many different watches on his wrist that would help him with that. “Y’ just can’t go with me at the moment…not until I’m more sure of safety fer both of us.” It was one thing if he put himself in a little danger, but it was another thing if he put Lydia in danger.

“An’ as fer Juno��Maybe she’ll know where Delores has been all this time an’ why she’s surfacin’ now. Anybody who opens a business in the Nether, especially in the downtown area has t’ file a bunch o’ paperwork. Maybe she’ll let me leaf through it. Or maybe she can tell me who Delores’ caseworker is an’ I can get information out of them.” As Betelgeuse spoke he seemed to get more and more agitated, and his gestures became more sharp. His voice even got louder. Not enough to be yelling, but he was obviously unhappy and angry with the whole situation. “Fact is, babes, I-I don’t know. I’m flyin’ blind with this one an’ I can’t—“ He downed the rest of his drink in one gulp. “I gotta do somethin’. I can’t lose y’ again, so Juno’s the best place t’ start gatherin’ information. An’ don’t worry. I won’t be goin’ out in the Nether like I would normally. Other than th’ Monsters, I got some family I can call upon t’ do some snoopin’ fer us. A certain royal has eyes an’ ears everywhere in th’ Nether. An’ Donny’s got his ear t’ th’ ground with all th’ gossip among the shop owners, so…” Betel gave her a hopeful, though still nervous smile.

“The best thing y’ can do fer me, babes, is keep yerself safe an’ outta trouble,” he responded with a smile, taking ahold of her hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss the back of her palm. “An’, no powers? Babes, not only can y’ see ghosts, you can quite effectively pull me out of states that no one else can AND calm me down….Of course y’ got powers. I can even feel it in yer fingertips right now. Might even be stronger than it was before, given yer connection t’ me an’ yer extended times in the Nether. Yer powers now are just untapped, not unlike I was when you taught me everythin’ before.” He grinned, then sighed. “We can start workin’ on that when I get back from Juno’s.”

“As fer fightin’ her…well, as much as I’d rather y’ not do that at all. I guess it’s best t’ be prepared fer every possibility…” He considered. “Damn, t’ see the look on her face if y’ were t’ beat her ass with witchcraft. She’d be pissed.” He looked delighted. “And you’d look smokin’ hot, babes”

Roadhouse Redux

Continued from here

Slivers of early morning light had begun to filter in through the curtains of Betelgeuse’s bedroom windows when Lydia’s eyelids fluttered open. Slowly rolling over, she smiled sleepily when she caught sight of her ghostly husband. She took a moment to admire his profile in the early morning light, something in her chest warming at the sight of him in such domestic comfort. The most feared poltergeist in all of the Netherworld and here he was, propped up in his bed reading a book, a pair of spectacles resting at the bridge of his nose. 

“Morning,” Lydia said quietly and smiled, propping her head up with her hand. Her hair was a wild tangle of inky black tresses around her head. “Guess all the excitement from yesterday must have worn me out. Last thing I remember, I was jotting down some ideas for the new Roadhouse.” Sitting up to lean against the gravestone headboard, she reached up to try and finger-comb her hair. “Are we going to head over there again today? See how much we can get done? I’m so excited to see it all come together.”

[shannonsketches]

[liquidstar]

sleepovers save money on hotel rooms while on missions 👍

[heytheredeann]

“Yes, there is a place where someone loves you both before and after they learn what you are.” ― Neil Hilborn

[puppppppppy]

Atla live action 😐