#this post went way deeper than i thought it would but I'm trying to work on being more positive and I wanted to share

[super-who-locked-me-in-here]

Okay wait now that I'm seriously getting back into writing fanfiction, I'm gonna give you the best piece of fanfic-writing advice I think I can give:

Even if you think it's not your best work, or if you think it's just plain bad, especially if you think it's cringe, post it anyway.

It is a hard lesson to take in. You read other people's works and you compare it to your own. You write and write and write and you still can never get the word choice you think would do your work justice. You worry that the view/like count won't get higher than double digits, if that much. You second guess yourself and even when you really wanna post your work, you don't because you're scared of getting judged.

And it's true, some people are gonna judge you, but the flipside of that is that some people are gonna get so much joy out of what you write.

My fic baby is a 50k xreader fic I wrote when I was 17, and for the most part, I'm really proud of that fanfic because I put a lot of work into it. But Jesus Christ the smut is so bad in it. I wrote that the female reader was on the verge of orgasming, but instead of just saying that, I said she was "caught in vaginal limbo". I thought I was clever. Now that I'm in my 20s, I realize just how fucking cringe that is. I've thought about going back and rewriting that scene dozens of times, but every time I think about doing that, I remind myself of the comments on the chapter. Of course there were people who said things along the lines of "wtf are you writing", but there were also comments of people saying "author vaginal limbo made me laugh so hard I cried" and I remember this: my bad writing made someone smile and that's all that matters.

Most of the fics currently on my AO3 are ones I wrote as a teenager, and a lot of them are not great, but if the fic has just one comment, or one kudos, I tell myself, someone liked it, and I leave it up, unchanged, for them.

And even if your fic is badly written, you may have a great plot idea, and inspire someone else. I've had that happen to me too. The person who came along didn't tell me my fic was bad, but I told myself it was, but they asked me if they could write a fic about the same premise because they loved my prompt idea, and I told them I couldn't wait to see what they made (with credit for the idea ofc), even as I was so paranoid it would be better than mine. And it was better than mine. But honestly it doesn't matter whose was better written. It only matters that we both had fun writing and reading each other's fics, and contributing to that fandom space.

Lastly, I wanna say that this extends past fic writing. It doesn't matter if you're cringe or awkward or weird or clumsy. If you embarrassed yourself by tripping at the mall and spilling your drink, well, the lady sitting across the walkway got a good laugh that afternoon (and she helped me get napkins to clean up, which was nice). If you stutter over your words, someone will find that endearing, even if that someone isn't around now. If you fuck up a presentation at work/school, maybe that reflects poorly on you, but maybe someone in the audience is sitting there thinking "gosh I'm so glad I'm not the only one who gets nervous about presenting."

Yes there's always gonna be people who call you out and berate you for being cringe or annoying or embarrassing. But life isn't any fun if you're always winning. It isn't fulfilling like that. No one is perfect. No one has to be perfect. And by not being perfect and accepting that you are not perfect, you are not only going to live a happier life, but you're also probably going to inspire someone else to live a happier life too.

[poppadom0912]

Is it too late?

Warnings: Mentions of periods, hospitals, surgery, pain and illness

Summary: When your older brother is a fancy surgeon, being sick is the last thing you want.  

Requested by @1chicago5021

A/N: I'm still alive people. I had a sudden burst of inspiration and thought I'd finally get all these requests done before the next round of exams. I am in a lesson right now so I can’t do the usual aesthetic collage I always do. This was sent quite a while ago but I actually had so much fun writing this so thank you! I hope this lives up to your standards <3

*****

Two weeks ago now, your body randomly started not working the way you wanted it to, but you put all the blame on your period whose cramps hadn't been very forthcoming.

The painkillers were a coming in at a constant stream, hot water bottles never having the chance to go room temperature.

Your never-ending migraines and 24/7 cramps were a constant, so you expected to feel relief once you were back to normal. But that never came because this week started and somehow, you felt even worse.

When you woke up this morning to your throat feeling weird, you knew something was wrong when you drank water and the feeling didn’t go away.  

Despite that, you went to school anyways, bidding your brother goodbye when he dropped you off, completely unaware of your wellbeing. But you couldn’t blame the guy, he was stressed enough over work as it is, you didn’t need to add to his already overflowing workload.  

You only felt worse as the day progressed. It was only spring, nearing summer, but your body temperature wouldn’t stop fluctuating. One minute you were shivering and asking to borrow your friend's hoodie but the next you were sweating like you had just finished a marathon and was trying to get rid of as many layers as possible.  

The cramps were immense. The worst you ever had and to consider you just got off your period, you weren’t a stranger to post period cramps, but this was on another level. You hadn’t been in this much pain ever even while on your reds. None of the pain killers your friends kindly provided for you alleviated the pain. Death would feel ever so sweet right about now.  

You knew you were seriously sick when you were on the verge of collapsing at lunch. Your friends all shouted in alarm when you faltered on your feet in the cafeteria. You ignored their efforts and attempts to get you to the nurse's office. There wasn’t long left of the school day, there wasn’t any point in leaving with barely two hours left.  

As soon as you got home, you fell face first into bed. As soon as your head hit the pillow and you pulled the covers over your body with however much strength remained in your arms that got heavier as the day went on.  

You were in a deep sleep, so deep in fact that your dreams were non-existent. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but you felt someone shaking you, going from gentle to a hand tightly holding your shoulder, a muffled voice inaudible as you came in and out of your slumber.  

Their gestures were painful, but you didn’t have it in you to tell the intruder as you struggled to even muster a groan. Your eyes fluttered, face digging even deeper into the pillow as if to suffocate yourself. That was all the indication the person needed to shake you harder, adamant to wake you up.  

With a blocked nose, breathing out through your mouth proved itself to be a much more difficult task than it should’ve been. And stuffing your face into your pillow might not have been the best idea taking that into consideration.

Their voice sounded way too far away, as though they weren’t in the room with you. One second they were roughly holding you, the next, all pressure ceased but the pain didn’t.

Before you could even register what they were doing now, your eyes heavy with sleep dropped once more as you were enveloped into darkness again.

*****

Over the past two weeks, Connor had noticed your depleting energy but when the mood swings came along with your hot water bottles, he didn’t think any much more of the matter.

But then you showed no signs of improvements and at first, he could hardly notice. You hid it quite well at first but as the week progressed, it was apparent to him you were getting sick, and you were too stubborn to admit that to your surgeon brother.

Nonetheless, things didn’t look too bad that staying home was necessary. You were managing quite well, going to school the entire week without complaints, so he found no reason to intervene into something he knew would end up in an argument that would result in you holding a grudge and not talking to him for a few days.

He dropped you off and drove to work expecting nothing. You smiled at him when you left the car, and nothing seemed physically wrong when you picked up the pace to meet your friends.

His twelve-hour shift seemed to never end. When he had a moment to himself, he messaged you as he waited for his coffee, staring at his message that sat alone with no replies for hours. School has finished, you were sure to be home now, so why weren’t you answering?

He didn’t think much of it till he was meant to go home at twelve. He was all ready standing at his locker but then Maggie called his name and he saw several ambulances piling up outside.

As amazing as he was, his attention couldn’t be in two places at once and unfortunately for you, car crashes had more significance in this situation. But as soon as this was all over, you’d be his number one priority once more.

It was all over six hours later when he came out of the second surgery he had to take lead in.

Stepping out of the surgery theatre, he thanked all his co-workers and was dashing away to collect his things, not wanting to be here any longer. Having time to finally check his phone again, his concern skyrocketed when you still hadn’t replied to his messages.

Waving off the few staff remaining in the emergency department, Connor wasted no time in driving off. His adrenaline had yet to die down from the rush of a packed-out emergency room and doing several successful surgeries. Adding to this was his building concern for you. Maybe you were just sleeping, and your phone was on charge. Maybe it was on silent, and you didn’t hear anything. Maybe it was stolen, and you couldn’t contact him-

Connor sighed as he parked the car. Wasting no time, his body still thrumming from the surgery high, he walked into the building and took the stairs instead, taking large strides as he skipped every two.

The house was drop dead silent when he opened the door which you hadn’t locked from the inside like you usually would. That and the completely pitch-black apartment was the first things that put him on edge.

He locked the door behind him, walking in further and inspecting the living room and kitchen that didn’t look lived in. Everything was in its same place as he left it in this morning. Closing the blinds in the living room, he walked towards your bedroom, your door slightly ajar which had never been the case since you started living with him. You always shouted at him whenever he left the door even a slither open, you always needed complete darkness to sleep. The tiniest bit of light always hindering your sleeping ability.

Pushing the door open, Connor poked his head inside first to survey the room. He finally let himself relax at the sight of you lying in bed, your figure completely drowning in your duvet. The weird lump in your sheets being the only reason he could identify you.

He felt himself relax, his body physically deflating now that he had eyes on you, knowing for sure that nothing was wrong.

For some reason, your curtains were still open which they never were since you were young, always complaining, once again, that you needed complete darkness to be able to sleep. Closing your curtains, he found your phone on your bedside desk, and it was littered with notifications from not only him but all of your friends too. All of them were asking in variations if you were okay, if you felt better, did you get home safe and how you were feeling.

They were all sent at three in the afternoon. It was now two in the morning.

Concerned at the topic of the messages, Connor came over to the side of the bed you were laying on and placed his hand on your forehead, his eyes widening immediately. He felt himself warming up just from how hot you were.

Sitting down on the space by your knees, Connor shook you gently, trying to rouse you from your apparent very deep sleep but the only movement you made was from what he was doing.

“Y/N? Hey, wake up. Can you get up for me really quick?”

The adrenaline that was just dying down was picking up again along with his heart rate, why weren’t you waking up?

He shook you once again but this time, he was more rough, his worry meaning he gripped your shoulder tightly and shook you with a force that he’d never use on you before as his baby sister.

This time he tried calling you name while he tried getting you up. Lifting the duvet off your body, not only were you shivering but you were sweating a very unusual amount.

Swallowing harshly, Connor tried one more time, calling your name and roughly shaking you. “Come one, I need to you wake up Y/N.”

“Y/N. Y/N get up.”

But you just wouldn’t budge.

Deciding that enough was enough, he scooped you into his arms and it must’ve been the sudden movement that caused you to let out a small whimper in what was clearly pain. It was small but it was the most he’d gotten from you since he got home and that was better than nothing.

Foregoing his jacket, Connor made sure to slip your cardigan over your torso, so you weren’t going to die from the cold outside. He quickly slipped into his own shoes and left the building not a moment later.

*****

No one had been expecting Connor to be back at work so soon, not even him. It was a few minutes to three and the ED was relatively calm taking into account the big accident not too long ago, but Connor was grateful.

Getting out the car, Connor looked into the ED and called for the first person he saw.

“April! Get me a gurney!”

Said nurse was caught completely off guard, jumping from where she stood at the nurse's desk with Will not too standing behind her. He too clearly was confused but Connor had no time to dwell on them.

Not checking if she was listening, Connor rounded the car and picked you back into his arms, your head resting on his bicep and your legs on the inside of his elbow. Slamming the door shut, Connor strode into the emergency department and luckily for him, April and Will were more than ready to help.

“All the gurneys are used up from before, but we’ve got a free bed.” April said, leading the surgeon into an empty treatment room where Will was lowering the bedside rails.

“Talk to me Connor.” Will said, understanding there was no time for formalities when he saw it was you Connor was carrying.

“No clue what happened but she’s as hot as anything, she’s shivering and sweating at the same time and will not wake up for anything.” Connor started, gently laying you down and standing back to let Will and April do their jobs. He was itching to help but physically had to move further away from you so that he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“Pretty sure she’s been sick and in pain for a while now, but she never said anything.” He continued, looking at all the numbers on the machines that were popping up as they were connected to your body. “When I asked last week, she just kept saying it was her period cramps.”

As April hooked you up onto an IV drip, Will started palpating your body in search for any particular place of pain. And when he came to a particular area in your lower abdomen and you cried out, the three of them looked at each other knowingly.

“Kieran should still be on shift.” Connor said, remembering the surgeon he left behind that was in charge and available.

Will nodded in confirmation, “Let’s move.”

*****

Waking up felt different to all the times before. Your levels of disorientation and haziness and confusion were on another level.

As soon as you opened your eyes, the first thing you noticed was the lack of pain. You couldn’t feel not even a pinch in your stomach, maybe it was weird to say but it felt liberating to not be in debilitating pain.

“Oh, thank goodness your awake.” Connor looked dead on his feet in the doorway of the room but the immense relief painting his face was like no other.

You made him feel and look like that- Shit, what happened, what did you do?

Before you could say anything, Connor beat you to it. “How are you feeling? In any pain?”

As he questioned you, a poured you a cup of water, holding it so all you had to do was drink and not need to exert energy that he knew from experience, you didn’t have.

Once again, before you could ask, he answered for you. “It was appendicitis. Your period cramps were in fact your appendix and last night it burst.”

“But it’s all good. We got you into surgery and your appendix is gone as should your pain.”

“Wow.” You said shakily, your voice so quiet from the lack of use.

“Please don’t do that next time.” Connor said, sitting on the empty seat by the bed, taking your hand into his. “Please tell me when you're in pain and when you feel sick. You matter to me; all your small or big problems are mine too. I don’t care how trivial they are.”

Silence followed as he set the glass aside. “You scared the shit out of me kiddo.”

And to say you felt guilty was an understatement.

“Claire’s pissed.” You both winced at the thought of your sister finding out. “She’s going to visit when she’s finished with work. I told her your healthy and out of surgery but she’s still pissed.”

“M’Sorry.” You apologised, voice hoarse and lips chapped. “I didn’t want-“

“Y/N.” Connors face made it look like he was in pain from your admission he cut off. “You’re never a bother to me okay? Me being a doctor is a good thing, use it to your advantage.”

You nodded, confirming to change next time if there was another time. Fingers crossed there isn’t.

“How hard was it to not do the surgery?” You smiled, squeezing his hand and poking his bicep. He was still in his scrubs from his shift last night.

Connor rolled his eyes and groaned. Such a sight made you laugh.

[drea-ms]

WHILE YOU WERE SLEEPING by KUSUO SAIKI

٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ Inspired by Laufey's song "While you were sleeping", Kusuo Saiki falls in love with you at 3:30 am, he "hates" it ( spoiler; he does not )

warnings. pure fluff. ooc!saiki i think. corny and cheesy story i thought of at 12:47 am after thinking of the guy i like. mentions of yn. grammar mistakes. from saikis pov kinda. being in love. sweet fluff before all the angst (707 angst coming soon.) i just love saiki a lot :(.

The clock read 3:30 am, and the pink haired boy still couldn't sleep, so deep in his thoughts. But, what was he thinking about? Could it be a plan to become average and leave his friend group forever or the amount of noise there is in the middle of the night that the average person couldn't hear? or maybe it's the girl with [h/l] [h/c] hair. Probably the first one, or maybe it's the last one. It's definitely the last one.

He doesn't know how he began to think of you this late, one moment he was getting ready to sleep, the other, he was thinking of how pretty you would look if he wasn't a pyschic and without his powers. He hates how you left him in this position, while you were sleeping without a care in the world, Kusuo Saiki had just began to fall in love with you. He absolutely hates it (he doesn't. he's lying to himself again.)

He just hopes it's a one time thing, that your playing mind games with him (how is that possible??? he's a god damn psychic!!) and that when he does go to sleep, that it'll never happen again. Yeah, this is just a one time thing...

It's 9:76 am. Six hours after that predicament. And he was so wrong, since that night, he couldn't bring himself to sleep without the thought of you within him, each time he did try to sleep, you were in his dreams. One way or another,you started to appear in his daily thoughts more and more often. When he was getting ready for school, everything and everywhere he went and did, you were in his mind. Like a lost puppy you were following him around in his thoughts, he absolutely hates it. He hates how when he gets to school you're there and you're talking to your friends and spot him and wave at him with your dumb smile. He hates how after class you greet him and both of you hard to lunch, he hates how you know that he likes being alone and leave him to himself, knowing well enough that he doesn't mind being with you, even if it means he's sacrificing his own time just to be with you.

And he's back at square one, the clock ticking and the time is 3:30 am, thinking of you again, how candy can't compete with how sweet you are, that the way you smile might as well be on par with Teruhashi, how your kindness and friendliness can make someone's teeth fall out. Everything about you is on his mind, and while you're sleeping again, like a baby, he's falling more and more deeper in love with you.

Sweet and Kind YN LN stuck in Kusuo Saiki's head, and he's beginning to like it, he likes everything about you, he likes how you always get him coffee jelly, even though you don't like coffee. He likes how you try to get him away from his and yours friend group just for you and him enjoy the silence for a while, he loves loves loves the idea of being your boyfriend one day.

And maybe that idea might become true. He just hopes that when it does, the both of you will be in bed together awake at 3:30 am and in love.

VAL TALKS?!? back again :3 it's been a couple of weeks but i have school and i'm busy most of the time living life and going to school:) i wrote this because i was bored and start playing mystic messenger again and i thought of the guys i like :). i'm not sure i'm back for good, but i like writing and i have a 707 angst that's being brained stormed rn so i wanna focus on that and other stuff rather than just over work myself to point where writing isn't fun anymore to me:) it'll take some time for me to come back but i'll write and post every so often :) asks are open!! send me stuff of your favs!! especially mike from the fnaf i want to write him, so send requests!!

[radioisntdead]

Adore

Alastor x reader

Warnings:

This is short, not my best work I WILL REDEEM MYSELF. Alastor is implied to break in at the end.

Good evening folks!

APOLOGIES FOR THIS BEING DELAYED, I accidentally deleted the whole thing and then I just laid on Barnaby out of defeat and slept.

ANYWAYS HERE'S WEDNESDAY'S ANGST, or Wednesday's poor excuse for angst, the original was better.

I'll be posting another angst fic later today, hopefully, it's either gonna be with Lute or another Alastor one

Song

A-one, two, three, four

You completely and utterly adored Alastor, how could you not?

He was quite charming! Sure he was a cannibalistic murderer but that for some reason wasn't a deal breaker for you.

A side effect from being in hell probably or possibly because you were just as screwed up as he was just in a different format!

Everything you do, it sends me

You had met him while working at Rosie's emporium, Rosie had asked you to make some tea while she taught Alastor the newest slang she had gathered.

Higher than the moon with every twinkle in your eye

Turns out you both had so much in common!

Both of you had gained deer attributes after your fall to eternal damnation, had a strong distaste for the lustful cravings of the flesh, thought cannibalism was neat, Rosie was a dear friend, and held a fondness and strong preference for the years you were alive.

You strike a match that lights my heart on fire

Rosie being the matchmaker she was decided to nudge the two of you together, after all she saw how well you and Alastor matched together, and it worked! Of course it did.

When you're near, I hide my blushing face

You and Alastor fit together perfectly, like pillows and blankets, like shoes and laces.

And trip on my shoelaces

He'd take you dancing, hand gently placed on your waist when you would dance more classically, or you'd have arms and legs frailing around like a octopus when you'd give more energetic dances a try.

Grace just isn't my forté

The two of you enjoyed cooking together in the kitchen, Jambalaya, curries, biscuits and gravy, pasta, gumbo, baked breads and whatever else you could think of, you made together.

But it brings me to my knees when you say

You'd help Alastor out with his radio broadcast, by either proofreading his scripts or finding an unfortunate sinner to make an appearance with their screams.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

You didn't know where things went wrong, everything was going well!

I fall into a pile on the floor, deer love is hard to ignore

At least you thought so, the last day you spent with Alastor the two of you had made a lovely dinner together, you had set the table with fresh flowers, a candle or two.

When every little thing you do, I do adore

After dinner the two of you danced to some jazzy song from his era, and he twirled you around.

We're as different as can be

His hand holding yours.

I've noticed you're remarkably murdery and I'm slightly less murdery

His red eyes staring adoringly into yours.

We balance out each other nicely

You gave him a kiss on the cheek before you went to sleep that night.

You wear fancy shoes in the snow

You had awoken in the morning and Alastor wasn't there.

You assumed he had stepped out and he'd be back soon.

In mid-July, I still feel cold

But as the clock continued to tick and the red skies turned into a deeper red you were worried but you knew he could handle himself maybe he just got caught up in something? Perhaps with that TV guy he was 'friends' with?

We're opposites in every way

Hours turned into days and days into weeks,

No one had heard from nor had they seen Alastor.

You looked everywhere for him, asking around, desperately trying to find out where he went.

but I can't resist it when you say

Vox apparently tried to get him to join his little V themed posse and Alastor rejected him, rather harshly and also broke his little TV antenna while he was at it.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

Rosie hadn't heard from him either, and obviously you wouldn't be asking around if you knew where he was.

I fall into a pile on the floor

Weeks turned into months and before you knew it those months became years.

He was just gone, leaving only traces of his existence.

Puppy love is hard to ignore, when every little thing you do, I do adore

For the first few years you would frequently pop into his radio tower, hoping that maybe, just maybe he would be there for some reason, and when he undoubtedly wasn't, you cleaned the place up, keeping it in tip top shape.

Finding words, I mutter

Once it hit the five year mark you stopped popping in, allowing dust and whatever else to consume the radio tower untill further notice.

Tongue-tied, twisted

You stopped hoping that Alastor would just waltz on into your shared home, with that yellowed grin of his and static following.

Hoove in mouth, I start to stutter, Ha, ha, Heaven help me

You stopped looking for Alastor.

Hello, how are you, my darling, today?

Seven years, he was gone for seven years,

He was back and he didn't have the decency to even pay you a visit? You had to hear about his return from him publicly beefing with Vox.

I fall into a pile on the floor, Puppy love is hard to ignore

If Alastor wasn't going to come find you then you wouldn't go out of your way to find him either, even if that hazbin hotel where he was residing was only a 30 minute walk away.

When every little thing you do, I do adore

Alastor didn't intentionally ghost you, his absence was only supposed to be for a short while.

Unfortunately he was foolish enough to make a deal that had kept him away from you for seven long years, his dear friend Rosie had been kind enough to fill him in on your activities since his disappearance but not before scolding him harshly for not even having the decency to send a postcard.

Every little thing, ba-ba-ba-ba

He had been back for a time now, how rude of him to not pay his dearest a visit! After all you were looking for him until recent years right?

Every little thing, ba-ba-ba-ba

Alastor was someone you completely and utterly adored once.

And unfortunately he still adored you to some degree considering he was standing in front of you in the doorway of the house you had once shared, he was as smiley as ever, his grin grew larger as he saw your confused expression.

"Good evening my darl-" he was interrupted by you slamming the door in his face.

Every little thing you do, I do adore

It seems you weren't as excited to see him as he expected, oh well! Good thing for him that you didn't bother to change the locks.

Good evening folks my apologies, this is more comedic then angsty, hope you enjoyed though I will redeem myself.

[inkyycapp]

how i think characters would react

if you got (very) hurt: adventure time edition.

tw/cw : angst, fluff, blood, violence, gore?, terrible story building, implied romance, fionna and cake spoilers, a lot of cringe, self-indulgence, character hcs, etc...

[a/n: this is very sloppy and rush as i made this between classes so it's half edited half not and not at all proof read. forgive me. thank you for the love on my last posts!! i wasn't expecting my adventure time hcs to get the attention it did, thank you so much!! i have finished fionna and cake(twice) so, my hcs might slightly shift a bit. at the moment. thinking of cross posting on ao3. reader is usually always gender neutral in all my posts unless stated otherwise. that's all! i'm open to requests and my dms/pms are open. thank you! new additions as well!! this is all i have, i'm sorry. a few more are in the drafts. please tell me if i missed anything tag and cw/tw wise! thank you.]

[holy shit, fionna and cake's finn. honka honka. i don't deserve a platform.]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

|| it all happened so fast. you could barely recall what happened. one moment you're up-right, after the next you're trying to pick yourself off the ground. your breathing grew more labored at every attempt, and the smell of iron hung heavy in the air. the warm liquid on your hands was a stark contrast to cold that began to wrack your body. it wasn't long 'til your vision faded to black, leaving only questions behind into your last fleeting thoughts. ||

finn.

(the favorite. my favorite.)

-the both of you were exploring an old cave. deep, dark, and damp. it was said to hold treasure far back into the cave, and out of curiosity you both went to explore. what you didn't know was that many people sought out that treasure. many dangerous people.

-going deeper into the cave, you and finn found the treasure, though nothing cool to take back except for a few cool rings. turning on your way out, with your back to the entrance, a sharp pain was felt through your body. looking down you saw the bloodied blade of a sword. you had no time to react as you were shoved off the blade and onto the ground. from there, it was a blur.

-finn would (violently) remove anyone involved. while brutal, he makes sure to end it quick--he doesn't have time for them when you're bleeding out on the ground.

-finn never stopped talking to you, even if you're asleep. it's always optimistic-- he talks about; new things he's found, friends he talked to recently, any new news, old and new stories, the next date he'll take you on, etc... he rambled hours on end in a one-sided conversation. it's how he copes.

-finn's trying to be uplifting. but, by himself he's a mess. he rarely stays at the treehouse because he's too restless. he feels weak, and unable to do anything. when finn's not at your side he's fighting through his feelings. finn had learned it wasn't healthy to use violence as his only outlet, but it makes him feel something that isn't the heavy stone in his chest when he sees you.

-he's a patient man, he knows you'll wake up soon. he just had to be patient. but after around a few days he doesn't want to be "patient" anymore. he wants you to wake up now. finn knows he can't make that happen, but it was a selfish want to keep himself going.

-when you did wake up, he was all over you. there wasn't a time when he wasn't with you, or at least in the same vicinity as you.

-good luck trying to pry yourself away from his arms. this man has fought monsters thrice his size for fun. even your prettiest please wasn't going to work, not this time. you almost died. you could've died and he couldn't do anything about it. those memories never left his brain basket, even when your recovery was going smoothly.

-very anxious about letting you tag along, but knows you'll probably go off on your own if he refuses to take you along. he feels it's safer to allow you to come along, rather than go off on your own. with him, he knows that at least this time he could do better. he won't ever have a repeat of last time.

-finn keeps you close during each adventure, even losing sleep watching the surroundings to be sure no one sneaks up on you. he will refuse to sleep, so you'd have to force him. please give this man all the reassurance, he really needs it. it won't stop his anxiety, or his fear of it happening again, but it puts him at ease. even if it's just a little bit, it helps, nonetheless.

-

fern.

-the green knight has plenty of enemies. of course, fern could protect himself, and you could do the same. however, even if you could protect yourself, there wasn't any chance to protect yourself getting jumped, and a dirty stab to the back. the most dishonorable way to lose to a foe. the amount of ever growing disrespect.

-he loses his shit. sure, he gets mad quickly, but if you were awake to see him like this: holy shit. he grows plentiful thorns, and poison flowers all over himself subconsciously. (he's actually very pretty like this.)

-he's livid, and you're not conscious to do anything about it. and that's just it, you're unconscious, bleeding out on the ground. fern couldn't quite process it just yet. normally you'd stop him from going too far, but you can't right now. that's supposed to never happen. he's confused and angry, and you're not waking up. you're not moving. so, he cuts down anyone involved in a quick motion. he doesn't care how brutal, as long as it's quick. fern wastes no time in picking you up (after managing the thorns and flowers) and taking you to doctor princess.

-fern can't stand seeing you like this. laying weakly on that hospital bed.

-if you think finn's not good at coping, fern is much worse. he doesn't even cope. he's just...there.

-he's so confused, and just shuts down a bit. like he's still there, he's still the green knight-- fern. but, he's just distant. not quite himself-- off.

-fern is unable to wrap his head around what happened to you, but he goes about his 'normal' life. he tries to just go about his casual life without you there, and he's just confused. it doesn't take long before he grows upset, allowing the rage to boil.

-'they used to do that.' 'this was their favorite color.' 'they were supposed to fix that.' 'they like bird houses.' everything reminds him of you. it's impossible to go a single day without a reminder that you're still unconscious.

-i think it gets more apparent when he's out and about as the green knight. he's more violent. but, he doesn't mean to be. it just...happens.

-he's likely not there when you first wake, but when he gets there fern's complaining about everything under his breath. but when he sees you up, that bed isn't just for you anymore.

-he's holding you close, with a firm hold and refusing to let go. he's scolding you for not waking up sooner, and complaining about how life without you was too different. he tried to be casual, but he missed you a bit too much.

-there is also no prying fern off of you-- a common thing between all of them. once you're up, there is no separating you both for a few hours at the least.

-fern is also hesitant about letting you rejoin him on the adventures, but as long as you stay close, and keep weapon on you at all times, he'll agree. but, all of your wounds-- every. single. one.-- had to be medically evaluated as ok, and no threat to your health before anything.

-

farmworld!finn.

(post crown -- pre fionna and cake.)

-he's in shock, not moving for a few moments. he knew why he'd be hated, or hunted down, killed even, but why you? why did they have to drag you into this?

-someone in the many gangs around the parts found you somewhere in the clearing waiting for finn. you both had previously planned a picnic out in a nice clearing in the woods. he was running late. but, once he found you bleeding out and onto grass, he's thrown way off guard.

-finn is quickly trying to pick you off the grass, trying to get you out of there, and dragging you back to his cabin. finn manages to tend to each of your wounds. though, the moment he's done, and you're in a stable condition-- he's leaving the cabin for a few hours.

-he finds whoever did this to you, and doing what he couldn't earlier. finn is driving in the same injuries they gave to you over and over again. he doesn't let up until he's in tears. finn knows that this changes nothing. he knows this won't make him feel better, but he needed to do something. anything. even if it's for his own sadistic pleasure to see the regret on their faces-- to see them like this. pathetically clawing at the dirt in an attempt to ground themselves through the pain-- trying to crawl away from his bloodied hands.

-(robot hand included.)

-finn leaves them with their lives(barely), and a warning before disappearing into the woods.

-he is struggling to cope. finn hold your hand in his abnormally cold one running his thumb over your knuckles. he's constantly checking in on you, and rarely leaving your side. sleeping, and eating could wait. after all that's happened with the crown, you're all he has left. he can't lose you too.

-he stays by your side as much as he can. finn knows he should probably take his mind off of...your condition and stay productive but it's difficult. the only reason the cabin is warm is because if it got too cold you'd start to shake. he makes food only because if you wake up you might be hungry.

-he doesn't know what to do for the most part, just waiting and hoping that you'll be better in no time. a fear lingers deep inside him that you'll worsen the moment he closes his eyes. so, finn stays up. there are times when he has passed out around the house, and when he wakes up he's absolutely terrified; running to check on you, checking to make sure your wounds haven't reopened, making sure you're alive.

-a deep seeded fear the you'll wilt away in his arms. it keeps him up at night-- it eats at him day by day.

-you're finally awake, but even then the fear doesn't fade. he's at you're every call so much that it begins to worry you.

-you'll have to force him, and i mean force him to sleep. you're ok, he's ok-- everything is ok. he can finally rest.

-he's just happy you're still there with him.

-

prismo.

-you? hurt? nope. not on his time watch. prismo has you out of the situation in seconds, without a scratch. he refuses to ever see you in any pain.

-though, hypothetically, if there's ever a time where you do get hurt, and your wounds cannot be fixed with his wish master magic, and he's "too late", he's not so well.

-you're on a comfy little bed in the wishing room, laying on top of him. your wounds are bandaged up, and cleaned, with your breathing finally stable.

-he never leaves you side once. (sensing a pattern in everyone.) it's either him, or a copy of him. when he's granting wishes to whoever manages to make it to his wishing room, he keeps you in the cube with a copy of himself to watch over you.

-tries to make small talk with your unconscious self...it doesn't go well. the owl visits more often only to lay it's eyes upon the slum prismo is in.

-the cosmic owl tries to ease the depression, though fails miserably. if jake is still alive; his visits, brings gifts, barber sessions, the whole mile for his other best bud. it does kinda help, even if it was just a bit-- but, he's greatful nonetheless.

-while he could be doing better, prismo is doing the best out of everyone to be honest(if jake is around). jake's visits have been more than helpful to this guy, and honestly without jake, he'd be worse than just a mess.

-when you wake up he doesn't believe it at first but he's ecstatic. there is never a time where he's not with you, talking your ear off on how horrible it was without you. and while prismo wants to contuine talking you to your grave, he can't deny hearing your voice after so long does wonders to him.

-bonus if jake's around and prismo's like "and i like...really miss her. y'know? like she's right there but she's not..." "no, dude, i get it..." "i'd kill just to hear her voice just once..." "...prismo..." "ah, shit now i'm hallucinating!!" "no prismo, behind you." "jake, don't play into my delusions!" "god dammit prismo." "YOU'RE AWAKE!? FINALLY."

scarab.

-this man is already insane. he already needs therapy. the anger issues on this psychotic man are insane.

-he loses all sense of morality(that he had left) but surprisingly holds off and tends to you first. by sending you back to headquarters for someone to tend to your injuries while scarab spends the next few hours tearing their molecules apart.

-honestly the worst out everyone. like, if he has a chance to off someone, they're going to die but in the most unconventional, painful, most gruesome way possible. he's....coping?

-at this point it's hard to tell with him, one moment he's rambling under his breath about annoyances, the next....he's offically lost it!!

-sadly he can't be at you're side at all times even if he really wants to, but with his job and all that. when given any chance he's right there next to you. he excuses this behavior as protecting you against anyone who might try anything, but in reality: it's just hard to stay away when you're like this. he wants to stay close even if he can't sometimes.

-scarab has difficulties with intimacy, so he finds it difficult to express his concern the "right" way. others see him as uneffected, and taking it too easy, but he is genuinely scared. he's scared that he loses the one person who can see him for what he is. an emotionally fucked up person who can't stand rule breakers.(joking).

-he finds holding your hand a way to ease the tension.

-when you wake up, he just sitting there, holding your hand.

-he's never letting you go anywhere without a weapon three times your size. of course he teaches you how to use it, but just because he wants you to protect yourself when he cannot. scarab views your injuries as him failing as a partner in more ways than one. he should've made sure you could protect yourself even when he couldn't.

-later on after your wounds have healed you're allowed with him on his missions. he denies being scared. reassure him anyways, he really needs it.

e/n: sorry prismo's and scarab's are short! first time writing them :')

[the-badger-mole]

But FWIENDSHIP!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Okay, so you all know how I get when something gets stuck in my head, but yesterday I saw a post talking about how Katara and Zuko's potential romance messes with their friendship, and I don't understand how, but that's beside the point. This is an anti-Kataang post.

I will once again admit that I don't spend a ton of time in Kataang/anti-Zutara spaces (cause I'm respectful like that), but every so often, I see one of those takes pop up in my safe area (because respect isn't always a two way street, unfortunately). It's interesting to see how many times this take seems to crop up. Katara and Zuko falling in love would ruin their friendship, yet those same people fail to acknowledge that Bryke went ahead and ruined their friendship anyway out of jealousy. These same people also tend to hold Kataang as a prime example of Friends to Lovers, the only problem is, Aang isn't Katara's friend at any point.

Throughout the series, it's made very clear that Aang likes Katara, but for most of the series (until literally the last few seconds, in fact) it's also clear that Katara only sees him as a friend. This should have been an object lesson that sometimes crushes don't work out, but friendship can be stronger than temporarily disappointed feelings. However, that's not what we get. Aang doesn't care about Katara's friendship. He doesn't want Katara in his life unless it's in a romantic capacity. We see it in how he reacts when he feels romantically rejected (lava fissure, EIP). The narrative doesn't give Katara any space to say no to Aang without it permanently damaging their relationship, because they never had the relationship Katara thought they did. Katara thought she was Aang's friend, but for Aang, their 'friendship' was just a precursor to romance. In this, the year 2023, I know we all understand why this is a problem.

Aang can't even conceive of a world where Katara does turn him down. He dreams about her enthusiastic response to his declaration of love; he assumes that since they kissed he kissed her and staked his claim, they should be together, despite there never being any sort of conversation, and the fact that the one time he did try to talk about it, she changed the subject very quickly. Katara's feelings are an afterthought for Aang, which is terrible for any relationship, but particularly in a romantic one. There is never a moment where Aang puts Katara's emotional needs ahead of his own. He never puts a value on her platonic friendship. There's never a moment where he decides that despite his feelings for her, having Katara in his life as a friend is better than not having her at all. That moment should have happened regardless of whether they ended up together or not, because friendship is the most important component of the Friends to Lovers trope.

By comparison, the friendship Katara eventually forms with Zuko is much deeper, and based on a mutual respect, understanding and emotional support for each other. This is a fantastic foundation for a romance, although bafflingly, people who laud Katara and Zuko's deep friendship don't seem to agree. Them potentially falling in love doesn't cheapen their friendship because they actually were friends first. On top of that, their Enemies to Friends journey ending romantically would not only not cheapen their friendship, it would tie into the themes of the show beautifully (the illusion of separation; love being stronger than hate; learning to respect other people's differences etc).

Let's be real, what Kataang actually represents is The Hero Gets the Girl, and I think deep down we all know that, even the ones calling it Friends to Lovers. In the Hero Gets the Girl trope, the Girl in question doesn't really matter. She's less of a romantic partner and more a prize for the Hero saving the day. Her emotional journey to falling for the Hero mostly plays out off screen, even though she may not have even liked the Hero like that initially, and the hero doesn't ever show that he respects her as a person. For the most part it works (arguably) because the Girl isn't a character in her own right, she's just part of the Hero's story. The reason it doesn't work with Kataang is that Katara is a character. She does have her own journey, and as passionate and outspoken as she is in pretty much every other aspect of her life, it doesn't make sense for her journey to falling for Aang takes place largely off screen. Not unless you understand how little Katara's feelings matter to their relationship. Had Katara actually rejected Aang, their friendship would have ended because Aang was never interested in her friendship.

It's interesting to me to see people who claim to value friendship over romance spend more time complaining about a romance that isn't canon over the actual canon ship that really does cheapen the friendship. But then again, I guess that was never the problem in the first place.

[nikos-oneshots]

hello HELLO guess who's back and is into monster prom now.

could i have some headcanons for calculester with a friend who struggles in school?

:D - 🪐

Calculester & Reader who Struggles in School.

Warnings: No beta we die like everybody in the z'gord ending ✌️ Word Count: 0.6k Pronouns: None Notes: I COMPLETELY FORGOT THIS SAID HEADCANONS UNTIL I WENT BACK TO POST THIS!! D: I'M SORRY ANON!! If you want me to remake this, then I will! Note 2: ALSO IM SO GLAD YOUR INTO MONSTER PROM ANON!! I love monster prom so much so i'm always happy to do requests for it!! I hope you enjoy!

Calculester Hewlett-Packard does really well in school. He has the internet as his brain, everything known by man at his fingertips. I wouldn’t assume he talks about school much because he knows he has a huge advantage over everybody else and doesn’t want to upset people by telling them that he has straight A’s in most of his classes. This rule especially applies to you, Cal knows that you don’t do the best in school. Whether you are a person who tries super hard and still doesn’t make it that far or decides to skip class multiple times a week, I would imagine Calculester would be clueless about your struggles.

I would think that he would only notice after midterms.

Everybody is sharing their scores. Liam is subtly bragging about how he got the highest in the school, Polly is super excited to show everybody that she got a 69 and Scott is relieved that he just did good enough to stay on the football team. You on the other hand, aren’t really happy about your score, you did your best, or maybe you didn’t, point is, you got a 20. Cal comes up to you asking about your score, you were hesitant to show him, but after he showed you his score of 89, you showed him your score.

“Oh, dear Friend Y/N. Not to alarm you, but that has been the lowest score I have seen yet. I apologize for your test failure.”

You look down in shame, you thought at least somebody would have done worse.

“I notice your struggles now Friend Y/N. If you are open to the idea, I could teach you what I know, like tutoring. Your problem may be that the strategies the professors here use aren’t effective for you to learn from. What do you say?”

You decide to take him up on his offer and once you begin your first session at the library. Calculester proves himself to be a great teacher, he knows how to tailor the way he teaches to match your learning style. You get through worksheets faster and actually begin learning the material. Along with potentially turning your marks around, you also begin to connect with Calculester more than you have already before! As you get him to talk about himself during your breaks, you learn about the way he also tutors Scott and how much of a struggle it was. You learned that even though he is a sentient computer, he still has so much he still needs to learn about interacting with others. You also learn a couple new plant facts!

When your next big test came up for your science class a couple months later, you went into it with a newfound confidence, an attitude completely different from your usual one. Calculester wished you luck, he was confident you would do amazingly, but deeper down, he was nervous for you. He dreaded the possibility that you come back with a terrible score again, he was scared that you would lose faith in him as a teacher and along with that, your trust; He could have sworn he was about to malfunction with how worried he was for you.

As you received your scores a week later, you instantly go to find Cal to show him your score. You try to hide the smile on your face, but you can’t as you give him your paper marked with a large 79 at the top. Relief washed over him and pulled you into a hug. He was so glad he was able to help you, both of your hard work paid off and he was glad that you had managed to achieve your goal with his help, validating his ability as a tutor. As the bell rang, you guys walked to your next class together. As you guys passed his classroom, you shouted to him as he was going to walk in.

“See you after school for our study session!”

Lots of Love -Niko

[malaierba]

How do you think a relationship between Nozomi and Karamatsu would go? I saw your post about those two having sweet yet absent-minded conversations, and that INTRIGUED me. Your analyses are always so interesting and make me see things in a different way, so I really want to hear your take!!!

Omg hi! Sorry it took so long to answer I gave this so much thought. I went for a walk and everything. Before I start though, you're very sweet, tyty

The challenge with Nozomi is that she almost haunts the narrative, in that without her the movie wouldn't have happened at all, yet because she's so detached from the plot until the very end we don't actually know much about her. What do we KNOW about her?

We know she was sensitive in much the same way Karamatsu was, where they are aware of how the other sextuplets are changing and dealing with Stuff, but because she's not very confident it took her a while to take action. But she DID. If she hadn't, both times, Karamatsu wouldn't have had the perfect excuse to take action himself.

I also like thinking of the one scene where we see her intact with the baby sextuplets. She was a lot chiller than I thought someone with six (implied) crushes would be lol. And she was every bit the airhead we love! And she managed to ask and get exactly what she wanted, which was a memory with the sextuplets.

So when I think about KaraNozo I try to keep in mind that they're timid, and take a while to take acting, but eventually they do.

Why was the Memory World so linked to Karamatsu? They all had regrets, yet it's implied that Karamatsu's ran deeper. Nozomi's cat is the catalyst that brings them to the Memory World. I keep thinking about that and can't help but think that from a narrative perspective, it makes sense that both Nozomi and Karamatsu are linked in some way AND are privy to some of the others thoughts/regrets, as a prerequisite to allow the Memory World exist at all.

All that to say that I'm fairly sure they had some sort of relationship in highschool. Definitely not romantic, closer to friendship. It breaks my heart a little to think that Karamatsu didn't look for Nozomi during the reunion... But if he always knew that she had a fragile health, there's a chance he didn't ask on purpose. He obviously remembered her though, otherwise we wouldn't have seen her at the end of the movie.

So how did their friendship start? Given their personalities I think a likely explanation would be "they were me to work on something together, and Nozomi used it as an excuse to continue to talk to Karamatsu, who eventually grew comfortable enough with her to seek her at least during class". I like to think this happens sometime in their second year btw!

As for their interactions, besides wholesome airhead topics, if we go along with the assumption that they were close enough to discuss some personal things, I'm sure it was Nozomi who took the first step. Maybe her curiosity for the other sextuplets got the best of her, and asking questions to try to get to know them better got her an insider's look on how things were changing over the years.

Kara was probably increasingly vague as their relationship deteriorates and he finds he doesn't know how to address the rift/changes, but if we go with the idea is Nozomi being like him, in where he's empathetic and sensible to others' change in mood/feelings first, observant second, well.... Perhaps she noticed this without a need for Karamatsu to state it outright. Perhaps the card was her way of helping Karamatsu out!

And of course, friendship is a two way street. Again, I really angst like the headcanon that Karamatsu knew of Nozomi's health, and that not asking about her was a cowardly way to save himself some heartbreak. Maybe Nozomi confides in him, or maybe he noticed. Maybe Nozomi mentioned that her life expectancy wasn't very long in a somewhat "well that's life :)" way, and maybe after highschool they lose touch and Karamatsu is scared of trying to reconnect and discovering that Nozomi passed away, whilst also feeling guilty for not trying to be there for her regardless. Or maybe I'm talking out of my ass, but what's a fact is that Nozomi definitely missed them and never forgot about them, and that Karamatsu knew where her house was and what she looked like means something.

So with allll that as a backstory, what if they ran into each other? Man THE FANFIC POTENTIAL OF THIS PROMPT LMAO. You can skin this fish sooooo many ways. Maybe Karamatsu seeked her at her home! And he had nothing but apologies and guilt to offer her, apologies for not keeping in touch, for not being able to deliver the card to his siblings, for avoiding her out of fear that one day she'd seek her but she wouldn't be there anymore.

And Nozomi, perhaps aware of what happened in the memory world, hears him out and eventually suggests that he just makes it up to her now. I can't help but think that Nozomi must have grown to be someone with a lot of grace. Who else would offer an highschool friend the chance to revisit a difficult time in their life, work through it with their loved ones, and eventually find her and create a new memory together?

Narratively, regrets are often meant to lead to themes of forgiveness and moving on. I really, really like that as the basis of their relationship as adults. I also just really like airhead characters who are still very emotionally intelligent lol

There's other possibilities for them reconnecting (running into each other by accident and recognizing one another, Nozomi reaching out) but for the sake of the evolution of their dynamic, I really like the first scenario.

Finally, when it comes to the nature of their relationship nowadays... Again I like them being confidentes + airhead friendship, the sequel lol. Karamatsu ropes Nozomi into all his arts and crafts projects, and she enables him, finds it funny even when she doesn't get it. He's doing stuff for her as an excuse to spend time whenever she's in the hospital and she's keeping everything. Her room looks a bit like a disco ball seen from the inside.

And because I think a lot about the place where Karamatsu is at, as an adult, in S3 (long story short: burdened by his "no plans" philosophy, trying to break away from some of the familial dynamics that he doesn't have the patience to fall into anymore, obviously and visibly trying to decide what he'll do with his future but unable to take a meaningful step in and direction because he's undecided) and I think about where Nozomi possibly is (did she always think she wouldn't have much of a future to speak of? Is that why she tried to connect with friends from 10 years ago? Why she offered them the chance to make amends?) and hoooo.

The themes. The THEMES. When you think you have all the time in the world, you may be a little carefree about wasting it. But when your time is limited, and when your body limits how much you can profit of whatever little time you have today... That affects your mindset so much.

I could write an essay about the themes but after thinking a lot, I think it boils down to this: I hope Nozomi will encourage Karamatsu to be more present, to enjoy and cherish what he has today, because things change and nothing lasts forever. That includes her, of course. But I also hope she'll make him realise how lucky he is, the luxury he has in being able to ponder about a future path at all. I hope she'll give him the confidence to not only think about it seriously, but actually take action.

And for Karamatsu, I hope he'll choose to be with her until the end. I hope he decides to make her smile and keep her company, despite the fear of how much it'll hurt when she's no longer there. I hope he'll empower her to trust in a future, to start projects on her own, projects that he'll help keep going when her health forces her to step back and heal. I hope he lets her know whenever he sees her, through actions rather than words, that he'll never forget her again and that a part of her will keep living with him forever.

I want to write about how I think Nozomi could integrate the Matsuno dynamic in general but I made myself emotional so I need to go for another walk :__-)

[tealfling]

A/N: I was insipired by a post commenting on how obvious it would probably be that Astarion is a vampire to the characters. This went perfectly with my Tav and how salty she would be about being called naive by Astarion.

Astarion x FemaleTav, Named Tav, Amaranth- purple tiefling cleric

Summery: Astarion tried to convince Amaranth it would wasteful to not take the power of the Absoulte for themselves. Which is fine, he's always trying to get her to reach for more power, but he called her naive. As if her good nature made her stupid or blind. Him. His pale-assed, red-eyed, pointy toothed-self. The nerve.

Act2-ish, kinda proof read

Mentions: his scars, alludes to his backstory, and peppered in innendoes. PG-13-ish

Reflect

"You've been in the bath a long time, Darling. What's taking you so long?" Astarion drawled, walking around the divider.

Amaranth sunk deeper into the tub, her furrowed crystal gaze remaining out of the steamy water, but not turned toward the voice she recognized.

Astarion reguareded her, tilting his head. "tch. Oh, are we brooding? Moping?" he jested, "Your tail tells all my Sweet." Noding toward the slapping thud rippling at the corner of the tub. He thought for a moment. She'd been quite since they last spoke- about taking the power of the Absoult- so he carefully considered what he might have said to offend her. "Are you still upset that I called you naive?" he probed. Her eyes darted to him. Seemed so. "Don't be like that my dear, we all have our flaws-not me of course-but the others obviously," he teased grabbing a towel. "Now come out of there my Treat, there's no way that water's warm enough for you and I don't want supper getting cold." He tried to keep his air light and up beat. Whatever it was that they had going on was working, he liked his favorite traveling companion, maybe more than he cared to admit. The last thing he wanted was for her to cast him aside, especially now. They'd come so far.

Lifting her mouth out of the water, Amranth bit, "I just can't believe you of all people would think I'm the naive one."

Astarion's red eyes narrowed as he paused. "And what is that supposed to mean?" he hissed ready to take offense.

The purple tiefling turned to face him, gripping the side of the tub. "Well, since you don't know, let me paint you a picture," she said. "There I found myself on a beach, where I could hear the calls of a man for help," she said pushing herself up from the water. "When I found the man, I noticed how anemically pale he was, paler than any elf I'd seen-- and remember, Darling, I work with people preparing to be corpses," Amaranth stepped one foot over the tub. "True to form my bleeding heart fell for your siren song for help and pleading eyes, an unusual red color, by the way, but who's to say what's in one's ancestry?" She straightened, taking out the other foot and planting it to the ground, and standing tall. "Of course, this came to bite me on my sorry ass when I found myself thrown to the ground with the business of a dagger to my throat. There those red sullen eyes really bore into me, but what really caught my attention was the pretty mouth with fangs bigger than mine." She said, stepping forward to punctuate each sentence. Astarion, though unsure, held his ground as she approached. His eyes locked on hers.

Amaranth continued. "Now those, I couldn't think of an excuse for being in an elf's mouth. And all of these little things together might look a little suspicious to someone only half paying attention, but probably not anyone sauced out their mind in some tavern back-alley past mid-night. For me though, as someone that choose Deathcare as a career path, what really sells it for me are these. " Amaranth reached her hand and placed two fingers on his neck, one on each fang scar, ignoring the way Astarion flinched. "These aren't the small, tender bites you pepper across my flesh, no these are jagged and wild, made worse by these." she ghosts her fingertips between the holes, her eyes saddening. Astarion sntached her wrist preventing her from touching further. His jaw clenched, his eyes were furrowed and locked to her's, but he didn't interrupt her.

"This texture? Scars from his incisors. That son of a bitch bit you so hard he almost ripped your throat out," her voice cracked where she didn't mean and her eyes began to sting. Amaranth pulled her fingers from his neck, wanting instead to caress his check. Her wrist still trapped in his hand, she gently grazed her knuckle across his jawbone. "Sorry," she whispered smally. Astarion loosened his grip at her apologetic touch.

Trying to save herself, she joked, "You were also terribly conspicuous about the boar, Darling. Even before we even added a half-baked monster hunter to our group. So I don't see how I'm the naive one." Blinking away the wet in her eyes, Amaranth said softly, "No, I took one look at your cover and knew what kind of book you were, but I'm the one who decided to read you." She peeked at him through her lashes, "And I'm glad I did, I'm surprised by what I've found in your pages."

For a long silent moment, Astarion stared at her. Reading her or collecting his thoughts before scoffing, "I didn't realize I was so easy to read, I'll have to double my efforts for the future."

"As if you could, I'm your mirror remember? Now, hand me that stupid towel, dinner's getting cold," Amaranth said playfully reaching for the towel Astarion still held, but she failed.

With deft hands, the elf flicked the towel around her shoulders earning himself one of those darling smiles of her's he'd grown so fond of. She'd known all along. No wonder she reacted cooly, but it still didn't explain why she'd agreed to any of it. Always full of surprises. More so than him apparently. His eyes softened. She always saw him with those big, beautiful shining eyes of hers. He supposed he chose the perfect mirror. He pushed a wet strand of hair from her forehead. Her eyebrows pinched.

"You're giving me that look," she said.

"What look?" Astarion asked with the lift of an eyebrow confused.

Amaranth playfully narrowed her eyes, " That soft look. You know it makes me want to indulge you. Perhaps Gale is right, maybe I do cater to you too much."

At the mention of Gale, a switch went off in Astarion. "Gale's just jealous," he dismissed. "Here you are lecturing me naked, why I'm sure Gale just wishes he could indulge in the whole, Dinner and a Show package, you cater to me," he purred, closing in on her.

With a small eyeroll, Amaranth hummed, "You're incorrigible." She muttered an easy encantantion matching signs in her hand and instantly dried off. "All right, let's go. I think I've hogged the bathroom long enough," she said, ducking around him to grab her dressing robe.

"Lovely," Astarion said, straighting out her robe, "Now with all this talk of Gale-can we do it in my tent tonight? I want Gale to hear you indulge me." He asked through a devilish grin extending his hand.

Amaranth returned a cheeky smile, "If that's what you want. But I'm not going to be intentionally loud." She grabbed his hand to be led out the room.

"I'll see about that."

"You know I can cast Silence right?"

"Oh, you're no fun."

"I thought your whole point was that I am a lot of fun?"

[sicknessbysalem]

Do you still write for simplysickness characters? Could you please write something for Lex and Soren? Really miss them… 💜

Something with a lot of comfort

i don't know if you're still around since this has been in my ask box for a long time. let me explain: i have been avoiding this ask literally because i got spooked about people coming at me for 'stealing' characters even though @simplysickness themself gave me these character to continue them once they moved on with their current job. so long story short I got too stressed to write this but i think i'm good now.

not sure if sparrow had ever posted fics centric to it, but in the canon lore of lex and soren, lex quit music and was able to work as an emt which he thoroughly enjoys. (also the canon lex and soren lore has been worked by me and sparrow for a long time)

since you asked for comfort, let's do it! if you have anymore requests, comments, questions, etc., send them my way!

tw emeto, migraines, nausea, overwork

Lex stumbled through the door of their shared apartment, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. His uniform was wrinkled, stained with the remnants of a long shift that seemed to stretch on for eternity. The familiar scent of home—faint traces of Soren's cologne mixed with the lingering aroma of morning coffee—welcomed him, but the usual comfort it provided felt distant, unreachable.

The dull throb that had started behind his eyes hours ago had escalated into a full-blown migraine, each heartbeat pounding against his skull like a relentless drum. He could feel the exhaustion in his bones, a fatigue that went beyond just needing sleep. Something deeper was wrong, but the last thing he wanted was to concern Soren with it. Not now, not when Soren had his own day ahead of him.

“Hey, babe,” Soren’s voice floated in from the kitchen, light and warm. Lex could hear the sound of dishes being put away, the soft clinking of plates against one another. “Just got done with breakfast. Do you want anything?”

"Not yet, no," Lex said, undoing the braid that was already half falling out the rest of the way, "I need to take a shower and get out of this uniform."

"Tell you what," Soren said, "You do that, and I'll make you some lavender tea and something to eat."

Lex winced, the thought of eating, or drinking for that matter, anything making his already queasy stomach twist in protest. He pushed a weary smile onto his face as he dropped his keys on the entry table and forced himself to respond. “Sure, fine."

Soren smiled, "I'd kiss you but I don't want anything you have on you from work."

"I would probably push you off if you tried," Lex said, "I'll be back in like fifteen."

For as tired as he was, Lex was quick to grab something to change into and start the water, letting it heat up as he stripped off his uniform. He'd take care of washing it later, for now he stepped into the bathroom, the cool tile under his feet grounding him slightly as he leaned heavily against the sink. The mirror reflected his tired eyes, the dark circles underneath them more pronounced than ever. He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. Every movement felt like it required twice the effort it should and he hated it.

As the water cascaded down, hot enough to almost sting, he hoped it would wash away some of the tension knotting his muscles, the ache in his head, and the bone-deep fatigue that clung to him like a second skin.

But as he stood under the stream, head bowed, the migraine only seemed to intensify, the heat doing nothing to ease the relentless pounding. He clenched his teeth, trying to will away the pain, but it was like trying to hold back the tide. The water wasn’t helping; it was only making him feel worse, the heat adding to his nausea. He quickly shut off the shower, his hands trembling slightly as he stepped out. He dried off as quick as he could, pulling on a t-shirt and some joggers.

For as much as he wanted to just go back to bed, that would make Soren worried. Soren was stressed, meaning he had somewhere to go. Lex wasn't going to stress Soren out, not more than necessary.

Lex tried to brush through his wet hair, grimacing as another sharp wave of pain lanced through his skull. He needed to pull it together, at least until Soren left. He finished brushing, by now the pain making his hands shake. He put his hair in a loose braid as he walked back to the kitchen.

The smell of lavender greeted him, and he saw Soren placing a steaming mug on the table, along with a small plate of toast. The simple gesture was filled with care, and Lex’s heart ached with guilt for not being able to appreciate it more fully.

Soren looked up as Lex entered, his eyes immediately narrowing in concern. “You okay, Lex? You look like you’re about to keel over.”

Lex forced a small smile, waving off the concern. “Just tired, you know how it is. Long shift. But I’ll be fine after some sleep.”

Soren wasn’t convinced; Lex could tell by the way his boyfriend’s gaze lingered on him, the way his brow furrowed ever so slightly. But Soren had learned to pick his battles, especially when it came to Lex’s stubbornness.

Instead of pushing, Soren simply nodded and gestured to the tea. “Well, drink up. It’ll help you relax.”

Lex gingerly took the mug, cradling it between his hands, letting the warmth seep into his palms. He took a tentative sip, the fragrant tea soothing his throat but doing little for the churning in his stomach. He set it down after just one sip, hoping Soren wouldn’t notice.

“So, you heading out soon?” Lex asked, trying to sound casual as he leaned against the counter, the cool surface a small relief against his heated skin.

“Yeah,” Soren replied, glancing at the clock on the wall. “Ksenia and I have that recording session, but I should be back by late afternoon. Are you sure you don’t need anything before I go? I can call and reschedule if you’re—”

“No,” Lex cut in, a bit too quickly. “I’ll be fine, Soren. You’ve got your own stuff to handle. Don’t worry about me.”

Soren’s eyes softened, a mix of love and worry shining in them as he stepped closer, resting a hand on Lex’s arm. “I always worry about you, you know that, right?”

Lex’s resolve wavered for a moment, the urge to just let Soren take care of him, to admit how much he was struggling, almost breaking through. But he couldn’t. Not when Soren had so much on his plate already. Lex mustered another smile, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Soren’s cheek.

“I know,” he whispered. “And I love you for it. But seriously, I just need some rest. I’ll be good as new by the time you’re back. Literally as soon as you walk out that door I will absolutely be sleeping."

Soren hesitated, his hand lingering on Lex’s arm before he finally nodded, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Okay. But if you need anything, call me. Promise?”

“Promise,” Lex replied, hoping the smile he offered was convincing enough.

Soren sighed, clearly not fully satisfied, but he knew better than to push Lex when he was like this. He walked over and kissed Lex's cheek, “Alright, I’ll see you later then.”

Lex watched as Soren grabbed his things and headed for the door, the sound of it closing behind him echoing in the now silent apartment. The moment he was alone, Lex’s facade crumbled. He slumped into the nearest chair, burying his face in his hands as the migraine pounded mercilessly against his skull, and a wave of dizziness made the room spin.

Lex sat in the chair, trying to steady his breathing as the relentless pounding in his head sent sharp jolts of pain through his temples. The room felt like it was spinning ever so slightly, a disorienting, subtle tilt that made him grip the arms of the chair until his knuckles turned white. He swallowed hard, his throat tight, trying to suppress the growing nausea that gnawed at his stomach.

His migraine had progressed quickly, the dull throb from earlier now a vicious, stabbing pain that seemed to pulse in time with his heartbeat. Every sound, even the quiet hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen, grated against his senses, amplifying the pain. The dim light filtering through the curtains felt too bright, and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the world and focus on anything other than the turmoil inside his body.

But the vertigo wasn’t something he could ignore. It was as if the ground beneath him was shifting, tilting, and spinning all at once, making every movement feel like an uphill battle against gravity. Lex had dealt with migraines like this before—too many times, really—but that didn’t make it any easier. The nausea that accompanied the dizziness was creeping up on him, a sickening wave that rose higher with each passing minute. He needed to get to bed, to lie down somewhere more comfortable, but the thought of standing up and moving was daunting.

Lex took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and slowly pushed up from the chair. The moment he was upright, the room tilted violently, and his stomach lurched in protest. He paused, gripping the edge of the table, closing his eyes against the spinning sensation that threatened to knock him off balance. Nausea twisted his gut, and he fought the urge to retch, knowing that any sudden movement would only make it worse.

Theoretically he could lay on the couch, but his bedroom was darker, specifically for this reason. And the couch wasn't the most comfortable. If it was this bad, Lex wanted to do what he could to be even slightly more comfortable.

Gritting his teeth, Lex forced one foot in front of the other, his movements slow and deliberate as he made his way down the short hallway to his bedroom. The walls seemed to close in on him, the world narrowing to the few feet in front of him as he concentrated on just getting to his bed. But as he reached the doorway, another wave of vertigo hit him hard, sending him stumbling forward.

He barely made it into the room before his body was ready to give in. Lex could feel he either had the choice to lay down now or probably end up vomiting all over his sheets. The floor seemed like the better option.

He collapsed to the floor, the cool wood against his cheek a small mercy. He lay there, breathing heavily, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried to regain some semblance of control. The dizziness was worse now, making his stomach roil, and he knew if he moved again, he wouldn’t be able to stop the inevitable.

The choice was simple, but neither option was appealing: he could stay on the floor and hope the nausea passed, or he could risk getting to the bathroom and throwing up. But even the thought of moving made the bile rise in his throat, so he stayed where he was, too exhausted to do anything else. The pain in his head had reached a crescendo, a throbbing, searing agony that made him feel like his skull was going to split open.

Time blurred as he lay there, the minutes stretching into an eternity as he battled the pain and nausea. His body felt heavy, every muscle aching from the tension he couldn’t release. He didn’t know how long he had been lying on the floor, but it felt like hours. Maybe he dozed off, maybe he didn't.

The sound of the front door opening barely registered in his foggy mind. It wasn’t until he heard Soren’s footsteps approaching that he realized Soren had come home. The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Soren’s concerned voice cut through the haze.

“Lex?”

Lex didn’t have the energy to respond, but he heard the soft sigh of understanding from Soren as he stepped into the room, his presence a comforting, familiar anchor in the chaos of Lex’s mind.

“There you are,” Soren said, “Why are you on the floor?"

"Well, the floor needed a hug," Lex said sarcastically, "Plus it was between puking my guts out and laying down immediately, so it was a win-win honestly."

Soren sat on the floor next to him, "Bad one, huh? How many hours have you worked this week?”

Lex managed a weak nod, not trusting himself to speak without setting off his already churning stomach.

"Five shifts," Lex forced to answer the question.

Soren placed a cool hand on his forehead. The touch was soothing, grounding him just enough to focus on something other than the pain.

“Alright,” Soren said softly, “just stay where you are. I’ll get you some water and a cold pack.”

Lex barely registered Soren leaving the room, his mind too fogged by the migraine to process much of anything. The nausea was getting worse, and even lying still wasn’t helping anymore. He swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to vomit, knowing it was a losing battle. But before he could spiral further, Soren was back, his calm presence and soft voice cutting through the noise in Lex’s head.

“Here,” Soren said, helping him shift just enough to place the cold pack against the back of his neck. “This should help with the nausea. Just breathe, okay?”

Lex focused on Soren’s voice, the coolness of the pack, and the steady rhythm of his own breathing. It was all he could do to hold on as the migraine continued to wreak havoc on his senses. He didn’t have to say anything for Soren to know how much he was struggling; Soren knew him too well for that.

“Take it easy, Lex,” Soren murmured, sitting down beside him, his hand still resting gently on Lex’s back. “I’m here now. Just rest.”

Lex let out a shaky breath, the tension in his body easing just slightly at Soren’s reassurance. He didn’t have to fight this alone, not with Soren by his side. And as the nausea continued to churn in his gut and the migraine pounded in his skull, he held on to that one small comfort—the knowledge that Soren was there, and he didn’t have to face this pain alone.

“Here,” Soren said, “Let’s get you to bed?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lex nodded slowly.

Soren carefully helped Lex shift from the floor to the bed, moving slowly and with as much gentleness as he could muster. He knew that any sudden motion would only make things worse for Lex, whose body was already betraying him with a migraine that had escalated to a point of pure agony.

The bed was a relief, at least more comfortable than the hard floor, but Lex’s relief was fleeting. As he lay there, Soren’s presence a steady comfort beside him, the nausea refused to subside, growing stronger with each passing minute.

Soren sat next to Lex, brushing a stray lock of damp hair from his forehead before rubbing his hand along his upper back and shoulder. “You’re alright, Lex. Just try to rest. I’m right here.”

Lex nodded weakly, though resting was easier said than done. The room continued to spin, a nauseating whirl that made his stomach churn violently. He tried to focus on Soren’s voice, on the coolness of the pillow beneath his head, Soren moved the cool pack to rest better on his head, but his body wasn’t listening. The nausea was rising, a relentless wave that he could no longer suppress.

A low groan escaped Lex’s lips as he clutched his stomach, the pain in his head intensifying with every attempt to stay still. He knew what was coming, and he hated it—hated the helplessness that came with being so sick, the feeling of losing control over his own body.

His breath hitched as his stomach twisted, and he instinctively rolled onto his side, his hands trembling as he tried to prepare himself for the inevitable.

Soren was immediately alert, noticing the shift in Lex’s body language. “Lex, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Lex barely heard him, too focused on trying to hold back the wave of nausea that was threatening to overtake him. But it was too much; his body was too overwhelmed, too worn down by the migraine that had pushed him past his limits. He gagged, his body convulsing as the nausea hit its peak, and before he could stop himself, he was retching, the force of it making his entire body seize up.

Soren was right there, his hands gentle but firm as he reached for Lex’s hair, carefully pulling the loose braid away from his face, holding it back so it wouldn’t get in the way. Lex realized at some point Soren must’ve grabbed the trash can by his desk.

“Easy, Lex,” he murmured, his voice calm and soothing even as his heart ached for what Lex was going through. “Just let it out. I’m here.”

Lex could only cling to the bed as his body gave in, vomiting violently, the migraine amplifying every sensation—the taste, the sound, the pain that shot through his head with each heave. It felt like an eternity before the wave of sickness passed, leaving him breathless and trembling, his body weak and spent.

Soren’s hand was still on his back and Lex was thankful for it and aggravated by it at the same time. Everything was too much. The waves of vomiting—another one coming up, he was sure out of spite the second he thought about it—, the taste, the sound, the feelings of everything all at once.

Soren offered him a small sip of water to rinse out the taste when it was all said and done.

“Just a little,” Soren coaxed, holding the glass steady as Lex managed a tiny sip, his hands still shaking.

Lex leaned back against the pillows, too exhausted to do anything but close his eyes and try to breathe.

The nausea had eased somewhat, but the migraine was still there, a brutal, unrelenting force that kept him trapped in misery. But now, there was something else—a warmth that had been creeping up on him, something he hadn’t noticed until Soren’s cool hand brushed against his forehead, surely trying to push more hair out of Lex’s face.

Soren’s brow furrowed as he felt the heat radiating from Lex’s skin. He had initially thought the warmth was from the strain of being sick, but now, he realized it was more than that.

Lex felt Soren’s hand which felt cool touch both his cheeks and his neck. It was a relieving touch, easing everything for a moment.

“How long have you had that fever?” Soren asked, “Since you got home?”

“Fever..? No, I couldn’t have. They check us when we come in…” Lex said, “I’m just exhausted into a migraine, I don’t—“

“Lex, you’re burning up,” Soren said softly, concern lacing his voice as he placed the back of his hand against Lex’s cheek, confirming what he already knew.

Lex opened his eyes, bleary and unfocused, and managed a small, weak shrug. “Just… a little overheated. It’s nothing.”

But Soren wasn’t convinced. He could see the flush in Lex’s cheeks, the way his skin was damp with sweat, and the fevered glaze in his eyes. “Lex, this isn’t just overheating. You’re sick, more than just the migraine. I think you might have a fever.”

Lex groaned, not in pain but in frustration. The last thing he wanted was to be more of a burden, especially when he knew how much Soren already worried about him. But even as he tried to brush it off, he couldn’t ignore the heaviness in his limbs, the way his body ached in a way that went beyond just fatigue. “Maybe… maybe a little,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Soren sighed, his concern deepening. “Okay, we need to get you comfortable. Let’s see if we can bring that fever down.”

He moved with quiet efficiency, heading to the bathroom to grab a cool, damp washcloth. He returned and gently pressed it to Lex’s forehead, the coolness providing a small bit of relief.

“Just relax,” Soren murmured, sitting beside Lex and stroking his hair with one hand while keeping the washcloth in place with the other. “You’re going to be okay.”

Lex didn’t have the strength to argue or to hide how awful he felt. He let his eyes close again, focusing on the cool touch of the cloth and the comforting presence of Soren beside him. The pain in his head was still unbearable, the nausea lingering just below the surface, but there was some solace in knowing that Soren was there, that he wasn’t alone in this.

Time seemed to stretch and blur as Lex drifted in and out of a restless half-sleep, the migraine and fever battling for dominance in his already worn-out body.

“You know, for an emergency medical technician, you’re a real idiot,” Soren said, offering an affectionate smile.

“Yeah, well,” Lex said, “I’m your idiot.”

[lover-of-mine]

Hi Anna 🥰

First, can you believe we got a HUG???? After what? 66 episodes?

Second, I REALLY want to know your thoughts on the expression Eddie made when he realized Tommy was gay. It's the same expression he wore when Shannon asked for a divorce, I think. The "I've been reading this entire thing wrong" face. But why do you think he was so stunned by the fact *Tommy* wasn't straight? I think he was realizing that the way he and Tommy interact differs So Much from the way he and Buck do, but I don't know (running on no sleep again this week, forgive me if none of this makes any sense 😅)

I feel like he wasn't as surprised to learn about Buck because he's doing that "first to understand thing" or at the very least had a hunch about it.

hi baby 🩷🩷 we got a hug, was is over 🙏 and we know Eddie is gonna be all over Buck next episode too, so like wins all around.

So, that expression, that did look like his "you're altering my world view" expression and we have a few options there. There's the funny one, the "was Tommy trying to woo me?" possibility, Tommy did fly him to Vegas for ringside seats, yk? And just having a minute about it lol. But the thing is the episode proved Eddie is deeper in denial than anticipated (rip Eddie fell first essay you will always be true in my heart), but like I said with the whole Eddie is last to see, first to understand, where Buck needs more time, Eddie needs a heavier hit, I don't think just the idea of Buck dating someone would trigger something, he needs to see something or Buck needs to do something, I don't know what rn, I just reblogged a post about the possibility of Buck saying he's in love with him before Eddie is ready to deal with it, and I can totally see that, you can have things ending abruptly with Tommy, Eddie wondering why, Buck being unable to lie to him about it and Eddie being slammed into the realization by something going ridiculously wrong (I will never stop pushing for my Buck drowning in the season finale, so you could do a situation where Buck confesses in some level like saying "Tommy thinks I'm in love with you", something goes wrong, Buck almost dies on him again and he's like oh fuck, and then you have that conflict transfer to season 8 while we wait for them get their shit together) because we all know that "it doesn't change a thing between us" is gonna come back around, same with the Maddie talk, but I also think they need to give the audience some indication that Eddie likes men and/or Buck before Buck can say that. But I just went on a tangent. Tommy. I think Tommy being as similar to Eddie as he was set up to be isn't just about Buck working out the kinks before Eddie, also I can't believe Lou actually said that completely unprompted, but I don't think it ever occurred to Eddie that someone like him could be into men too. Because Eddie spent his whole life doing the right thing in a very twisted way. He got his girlfriend pregnant, so he married her, he joined the army to provide for her and Chris, the show keeps implying he's looking for a mother to Chris, not an actual partner, with these "proper latina women". He loved Shannon, and he thinks he can recreate that. BUT he has a partner, who's not only helping him with life, he's also helping him with Chris, so he checks both boxes. But he's also a man. So he never had a reason to look at it. Until that partner started dating another man, who's extremely similar to him. The pieces for him to be like "oh, that's an option?" are literally all there. He literally said "you and Tommy have it right". Like literally. The seed is planted. The thought is there. At any moment, this man can look at Tommy being that sure of his sexuality and his masculinity and liking a lot of the things he does and also liking Buck, and being like "maybe men are an option" that would lead to an "is Buck an option?" that could give us some nice movement.

I think the question here is who the show wants to reach the "oh am I in love with him" conclusion first. They both have most of the pieces of the puzzle, Buck has more because he has the attraction to men piece, but I maintain that Eddie would be less freaked out about the liking men aspect of loving Buck then Buck would the other way around. It's kinda like we kept writing feeling realization fics where Eddie was totally fine with the idea of wanting to fuck Buck through the mattress but panicked at the idea that he wanted to hold his hand but Buck was the other way around. There's also the problem of what label they are going to give Eddie. Even if most likely it will be just indirectly. I feel like the episode actually even kinda gave us enough to argue that man as demiromantic, but I digress, they doubled down on him loving Shannon, so you kinda can't go the strictly gay route, and he's not stereotypically bi, but obviously who needs stereotypes and it would kinda be nice to see some bi4bi thing that's not stereotypical, and they can go the who cares, he loved Shannon, now he loves Buck route which I think would be the most plausible? Considering they are probably not gonna go there with the demisexuality of it all. And also depends on how attached they want Buck to be to his queer awakening. I think the realization that he's into men and in love with Buck are tied together, but that's a personal opinion, I think his brain would accept the attraction to men and instantly attach that to Buck. But they could very much give Eddie a man to explore things with too. Circling back to the look, I kinda think that was a "I didn't know a guy like Tommy could like men" that's just slightly to the left of the realization of "I didn't know a guy like me could like men" and that could come back to help him get there.

[rudystopit]

iii. Let Her Captivate You│M.O'Hara

↳Pinterest

Summary: Father O'Hara, tormented by hunger and guilt, escapes the abbey for a bar. There, he meets a woman who becomes his prey. Consumed by his monstrous cravings, he brutally attacks her while haunted by thoughts of you. As he disposes of her body, he wrestles with his monstrous nature and fractured faith.

Pairing: Priest!Vampire!Miguel O'Hara/Nun!reader

Warnings: Public sex, fingering, pinv sex, biting, murder, and ripping apart a body (very brief line about it).

a/n: its slightly gory. I'm pretty desensitize to gore but if that's not your thing then i dont judge for abandoning this fic.

word count: 2,496

masterlist

{cross posted on AO3}

𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔟𝔰 6:25 𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔬𝔯 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔢𝔶𝔢𝔰.

Father O'Hara woke up at his desk. The painting is still on the floor. The shattered glass reflected the moonlight into his office. He stared at the bright shards and tried to think about what happened. He traces the grooves on the desk from his nails. He hums at the memory of you bathing in the bathhouse. A pain shot threw his body. He clutches his stomach and looks out the window. The sun had been long gone and most people were either ending the night or just beginning their exploits. His stomach screamed and he looked at the clock. It was late enough he thought.

He stood from his desk and grabbed his coat. He figured the other fathers had either left or too into their work to hear him. He stretches and unlocks his office door. Wiping sleep from his eyes, he moves swiftly through the hallways. His shoes clicked against the tiles. He figured if someone was woken up by his shoes they either wouldn't care or try to confront him but notice he's not in a good mood and leave him alone. All he could think about was getting out of the abbey and getting some food.

Once he saw the front entrance of the abbey, he darted for the door. The early spring air envelops him as he walks to the other side of the street. He quickly checked behind his shoulder to make sure no one saw him leave or tried to follow. Sweat dripped down his neck as a shiver went down his spine.

The night was delightfully warm and the street lights added a soft glow to the streets. He made his way to the bar on the other side of town. He walked with haste down the sleeping streets. He didn't care who saw him. Most would think a priest was sent to do final rites at this hour. Not that he cared what they thought. He knew if someone did see him they would ask tomorrow and he would have to come up with some stupid lie about the town a few over needed him. The town was too small to get away with the 'last rites' lie.

He kept his head low. His chest fills with guilt about what he's about to do. He catches his reflection in a shop window. His figure makes him pause for a second to look at the slight in front of him. He studies his face. The dark circles and sunken cheeks. He scoffs and continues his travels to the edge of town. He kept his jacket close to him.

He thought about the last time he ate. I swore it was more than enough, he thought. He grits his teeth and his stomach screams once more. He closed his eyes and took in the air. The crisp early blossom smell invaded his senses. He thought about your scent this morning. You had a floral aroma. He dug deeper into his memory, he wanted to know what flowers were around in the bathhouse or if you had brought your soap in. His pace quickened as he searched his memory for any clue of your scent. He tried going through all the flowers in the bath house trying to remember what they smelt like but he came up empty.

He took a deep breath in frustration and stopped in his tracks. His eyes snapped to the right of him. It was a small house. One of the types that normally had a family of one or two kids. He looked to the side of the house. A tall bush swayed in the breeze. Lilac. He walked over and held a flower in his hand. He closed his eyes and carefully brought the flower to his nose. He inhales the familiar scent. As if to ruin the mood his stomach turned once again. He groans and turns back to the street.

Once he got closer to the bar, he quickly removed his collar and shoved it into his pocket. He figured the people out this late on a weeknight probably weren't the same people who frequented the abbey but having the collar would ruin his chances to get you out of his mind. He unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his dress shirt. He walked with haste to the bar. He tried to keep some wits about him and not get lost in his hunger. His mouth filled with hot bile from his stomach. He tried to ignore the feeling and try to not break out in a sprint.

He rounded a corner and headed down the alley to the bar. Spray paint littered the old brick walls as he stepped over discarded posters. He hears people laughing in the bar. A few people were outside in the alley smoking. He gave them a nod. He placed his hand on the handle and took a deep breath.

He swung open the door with so much gusto that some of the patrons looked up in horror. He put his head down and walked to the bar in shame. The bartender looks at him and figures it's a strong drink kind of night. He pours him a glass of rye and slides it to Father O'Hara. He nods and drinks. He stares at his foggy reflection of the bottles on the shelves. He hates that he has to be here. He hates what he has to do.

He feels a person sit beside him. He shifts his eyes to look at the stranger. A young blonde. She calls over the bartender and orders two of "whatever he's having." She turns to him. "Hello, I'm." he doesn't care to know her name. She goes on about how she's traveling around Europe because she "came into'' a lot of money. He fakes his interest. He's hungry and she'll do fine. He places his hand on hers and she swoons for him. She goes on about how this trip is to remember what it feels like to be free again. Her hand sits on his thigh. As he maintains eye contact with her. He can smell her overly sweet perfume, it's making him feel sick. Not including how much his stomach hurts.

He knows he needs to feed. He just doesn't understand why it's so soon; normally it takes about a month before he becomes starving. He watches her lips move. He hasn't listened to a word she's said. He can only think about how hungry he is.

He orders more drinks and she downs them one after another. She starts talking about her douche ex-boyfriend who was supposed to come with her on this trip. He said something along the lines of 'Oh then how would we have met if he was here?' She giggles and he puts on a fake smile. He keeps drinking knowing it won't affect him anymore. He remembers the one time he and Parker got plastered at an old park. A part of him longs to get drunk. But that part of him is gone now. Just like the part that could taste food. He stares at the blonde. She hasn't stopped talking about her plans after the trip. She talks about how her family would have wanted her to be a mother and settle.

Imagines of you flash in his mind as she talks. He thinks about how sweet you are. How you are content with whatever people give you. Content with whatever God gives you.

The Lord works in his own ways. He smiles at your phrase. The blonde thinks it's about something she said. He's staring at her lips. She leans into him and plants a kiss on his cheek. She giggles and excuses herself. He turns back to the bartender and orders a few more drinks for himself. The bartender strikes up a conversation with him.

"She seems quite keen on you?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he says as he brings the glass to his lips.

"Might get lucky tonight then," the bartender chuckles, "But, the way you're drinking and how you haven't been paying that poor girl any mind, I think you've got someone else in mind," the bartender says his bold statement while cleaning a glass. Miguel just looks up, through his brows, and the bartender retreats to the other end. He finishes the rest in the glass and looks at the blonde coming back.

She puts her hand on his arm and sits down. He flashes a smile and she sips her drink. "I've been talking too much about myself. Tell me about yourself," she leans against his bicep and looks at him through her lashes.

He gives a fake name. Says he's from out of town and was out in the woods hunting. She swoons about the hunting part of his story. Says something about how she likes a big, strong, rugged man. He makes up stuff about his hunting trips. She asks about family and he tells her about some sob story about his dad dying in a hunting accident and his mom becoming insane with the loss of her love. Which is furthest from the truth, They both live happily in New York enjoying retirement. She asks where he's originally from since his accent is "abnormal." He lies and says from a few towns over.

Father O'Hara pretends to stare longingly into her eyes. He keeps drinks coming and acts as if she has been his soulmate. Touching her hands, her arm, slowly moved up to tuck a hair behind her ear. She leans into his hand. His hunger was raging.

"Come on," he simply says and they make their way back to the alley. Her hand in his, he pulls her to the wall and her lips try to meet his. He pulls away at the advance. He spins her around so she is up against the wall. He kisses her neck. He listens to her breathing. Her hands travel up to his hair. His hands explore her curves and begin to lift her skirt. She shifts, accidentally letting his hand slip up her thigh. Her mouth falls open at his cold hands. His fingers hook themselves around the waistband of her underwear. He dips his fingers down. A small moan comes from her lips. His stomach rumbles and he groans. He needs to hurry this up.

He removes his hand and pulls away from assaulting her neck. He flips her around and pulls up her skirt. He's completely uninterested in this. He removes himself from his pants. She turns her head.

"Wow, you're big," she sloppily said. He rolls his eyes and pulls down her underwear. He rubs his tip in between her folds. He slips into her entrance. His hand comes to the top of her back. He pushes her into the wall as he slowly slides in. She lets out a loud moan. He growls and begins his assault on her pussy. The alley filled with skin and lust. His hand holding her skirt up moves to her clit. He can almost hear her eyes rolling to the back of her head. He pounds harder, whispering in her ear to come.

He feels her tighten up and he smiles. He kisses her neck and whispers praises. She comes undone beneath him. His smile turns wicked as he opens his mouth to bite.

His fangs pierced her skin with ease. Her moans sounded more like screams but the head rush she must have... he slips out of her and begins to drain her. A flash of your face appears in his mind. He snarls and bites a chunk off of her neck. Her body falls limp to the dirty ground of the alley. He looks down. His stomach finally settled.

He picks up her body and starts to the woods on the other side of the bar. He tosses her against a tree and looks for 'his' old cabin. He had stumbled upon it a few months after arriving in town. He had asked around if there were any hunters in town and Parker said there was an older man that had recently passed and his family didn't live around here. You know it is frowned upon if a priest hunts. Parker's warning whispered through the wind. 

He walks up to the cabin and goes inside to wash off his hands. He grabs the shovel from its home next to the door. He walks back to the girl and drags her deeper into the woods. He thought about how you would react if you knew what he was. He wondered how scared you would be if you knew. A pain in his chest made him understand that he didn't want you to be scared of him. 

He started digging. The dirt flies behind him and the pile grows. He doesn't know why he's in such a rush. He knew no one would find him. No one goes in the woods. The townspeople fear the Beast. He smiled at the name. It was given to the bear attacks that happen in the fall and spring. The Police said it was just a bear attack but the news spun it to sound more fantastical. There's a Beast in the woods. A Bear reaching EIGHT feet! He remembers all the folks going into the abbey praying their family would be spared from its wrath. 

He continued the hole to depths of at least seven or eight feet down. He looked at his work then at the body. The body of the girl swifts in his mind to look like you. His brows narrow. He sat next to the hole. He stared at you. He thought about how your skin looked in this light. He tilted his head and wondered what your cheek felt like under his touch. He thought about how he would treat you better than how this girl's boyfriend treated her... hell, even how he treated this girl. He sat there just staring at this girl's body while dreaming about you. How you did everything with purpose and how graceful you were with even the smallest movement. How you gave everyone your full attention, even Him. God. Your God. the same God that he's supposed to worship. the same God that created a monster like him. The same God that placed rules for him and forbade him to even think in the ways he was. Anger bubbled in his chest and he lunged at the body. He begins ripping her apart. 

When all is done he looks around, covered in dirt and blood, he pushes the pieces of her into her grave and begins filling the hole. The somber air fills the wood with silence as he ponders why he decided to be the man he is.

[cityandking]

1, 12, 14, 18 for dai, minah and vesper!

thank you my dear!! // questions about creating your ocs

1. What was the first element of your OC that you remember considering (name, appearance, backstory, etc.)? 

DAI — theme. I knew I wanted to play a religious character and I knew there was a very Present religious order in airedon that worshiped the sky gods, so he was initially born out of the concept of this really grounded, rooted, earth-adjacent character looking up at the sun and the sky and loving it and striving towards it. everything else kind of slotted into place from there. MINAH — backstory. it helped that we got a whole bunch of campaign lore (plus just, y'know, there's so much DA lore to work with). I always knew she was gonna be a bit unscrupulous and dissembling and kind of went from there. also, fun fact! she was originally gonna be a he VESPER — name. vesper was born out of the ashes (well, a long period of tweaking and re-consideration) of my first inquisition playthrough, so in a lot of ways I had everything set out in broad strokes, but it wasn't until I had a new name that I really began building a new (and better imo) character.

12. What have you found to be most difficult about creating art for your OC (any form of art: writing, drawing, edits, etc.)? 

ok well besides the fact that I can't draw them the way I wish I could draw them...

DAI — his voice is a little stiff and he doesn't do joy well. every now and then I'll have a thought about something (usually a dairef thing) and I just can't pin him down enough to get into it. this happens less when we're playing, but every now and then he just stalls out. MINAH — the secrets she (and I) must keep. also artistic skill rip (I just want to design warden armor) VESPER — her color palette honestly isn't super conducive to edits. also I started writing her ages ago and sometimes it's hard to get back to her voice; I feel like I use to write her much more easily

14. If you had to narrow it down to 2 things that you MUST keep in mind while working with your OC, what would those things be? 

DAI — first, he's upright in all things: morals, posture, obligation, kindness, vows. everything about him should feel like it's standing solid and straight-backed, like it could take a blow and stay standing. second, beneath all that honor and stalwart truth and hope is a deep well of wryness that he can draw from ad infinitum. it's where the bitchiness comes from MINAH — first, her gut instinct when talking about herself is always to lie or deflect, even when it's completely innocuous. there's usually at least one layer between what she says and what the truth is, even if the lie is only in the presentation or the performance. second, her loyalty goes deeper than she'll admit—she's fond of people and bonds easily, even though she tries to keep them at a comfortable arm's length VESPER — first, she is always ready to set herself on fire rather than see anyone else burn or freeze. she's got a martyr complex and a deep well of determination and the two don't play well together. second, she is so tired. she is so so tired. let her nap

18. What is the most recent thing you’ve discovered about your OC? 

DAI — oh lordy. most recent? it's either how hungry he is to know more about his family or how hungry he is to feel solid and real. I made a post a while back about 'how bloody is your OC' and looking back at that I think part of dai's problem in the astral sea is that he hasn't had a chance to get bloody—fighting himself was a good way to get into the meat of things (literally), and the god baby was better because it was tangible change. I think. I'm still trying to get a read on his mental state; he eludes me sometimes MINAH — honestly the cold-blooded mage murder was a surprise to me too VESPER — vesp has been so solid for so long idk what recent thing I've discovered about her. I'm sure I'll have new thoughts and feelings once veilguard drops

[bunny-heels]

Yo! I'm curious. You got any headcanons about Alex so far? If you feel like sharing that is.

putting on bumble bee by toy box as i write these [LONG POST UNDER THE READ MORE ALSO THERES SPOILERS]

starting off, i don't think the divorce was his fault, or at least not fully. from what Casey says, i'm thinking he's been in the FBI for a long time even before he married his ex, and it was a situation of she should've known what she was getting into falling for a guy who has a job that could nearly kill him almost every day. he also says that apparently the jobs where he could've been killed were her favorites. Casey doesn't really bad mouth her either, he kinda just refers to it like it was a bad day or just something that bothered him. i don't think he treated his ex badly at all. if anything i think it shows how much of it was his ex's fault considering that if he really was the bad guy in this, Saga wouldn't have invited him to family dinners

speaking of that; Casey considers the Anderson's his family as much as Saga does with him. With Saga and Casey, they have something goes deeper than friendship but not something romantic. have you ever gotten that feeling of calling someone a "lover" because the word boyfriend or girlfriend just doesnt do the feelings justice? that's that with them. i think even outside of work they'll call each other partners, it's why Casey says "Partners till the end".

Casey of course also feels close to David and Logan, and those relationships are lot more explainable. i think him and David have a friendship that's almost brotherly. they surprisingly would have a lot of things in common in a hidden layer between the two and David is always up for having 1-on-1 talks with him over some whiskey. with Logan he treats her like a niece. he'll entertain her when she's working on her little hobbies and helps her whenever she needs it but Saga and David aren't there. he's even babysat a couple of times on his days off when either Saga had to work on a case alone or her and David wanna go on a date.

the first time Saga invited Casey over for dinner, it was supposed to be a regular day at the office, and it was up until she asked him about it. he didn't really want to go since he was fully aware he was a pretty gloomy guy to be around, and he thought Saga was just trying to take pity on him and be the nice agent around the office. so when he got there and saw and felt the genuine feeling of being welcomed into a family home and the excited energy the Anderson's had for having a guest over from Saga's job that she said she considered a friend, he really didn't know how to act. on the outside, he slowly went from a quiet shy man to having a warm smile on his face no matter what they were eating or what they talked about. on the inside he felt starstruck the whole evening and night, feeling like he was dreaming. after he helped them in cleaning up and finished up the last of their conversations to get to know them better, he walked home with this feeling in his chest that he couldn't get rid of. it was similar to the feeling he got when he first came home as a married man when he was still with his ex, but this felt so much deeper and special, like it was really meant to be this way.

Casey always keeps his guard up on the job, that's a natural part of it, but after divorcing his ex, he kinda stopped caring about getting hurt, so he didn't mind much if his guard wasn't high enough on certain days when the person he was pursuing became violent. he's a pretty tough guy which is ironic to his build. but over the years of knowing Saga, he's subconsciously gotten more vigilant and stiff, now always having his gear in the same pockets no matter what case it is, and never stops scanning the surroundings before him. that first time when he got hurt on the job with Saga, as much as he reassured her that it was part of the job and that it wasn't her fault, he still remembers the distressed look on her face and the way her voice sounded when she was helping him nurse the wound. he realized quickly in that moment realized that not only could he not handle seeing Saga in pain worried about him, but also he can't keep letting himself get so close to death's door when he now has something to come home to.

he didn't use to have a caffeine addiction. before meeting Saga, on days off he would open some whiskey and drink it like it was water throughout the day, sometimes making the mistake of doing it on days where he had to be up for work the next morning. and sometimes he would straight up drink at work. not enough to get drunk on the job, but enough to get through it. but he did also like coffee, just not as much as he does now. during when Saga was trying to get closer to him, she quickly figured out what his favorite type was; pure black roast, no sugars, no milk. over the next few weeks, every other couple days, she would come into the Bureau with two cups of coffee and put one on Casey's desk, sometimes before he got to his office, sometimes just leaving it in front of his hands and then walking away with a smile. he was confused, of course he would be, but eventually got to a point where he smiled seeing the cup get to his desk. afterwards, there were days where Saga decided to visit Casey to check up on him, and she was always worried from the smell of alcohol that radiated in his home. it wasn't until she came to check in on him when he didn't show up for work and found him passed out on the floor that they had a pretty personal moment about it all. since then he's barely touched it except at office parties or having dinner at the Anderson's.

i'm pretty sure Saga's mother died after she joined the FBI, though i'm not sure if it was before or after getting to know Casey. if it was after, i think Casey would've talked to her at least once before her passing, and Freya would've adored him. Saga would've invited him to the funeral and insisted on him coming, seeing as she sees him as family. if it was before, i think Saga would told Casey about it during a more personal conversation and he would've been very sympathetic about it, wishing he'd met her before she passed. she would've invited him to come visit her grave, and introduced the two from beyond the grave in a bittersweet way. Casey would've been very respectful in both scenario and leave flowers and stay by the Anderson's side if they needed the extra support.

as for miscellaneous things;

i think he's the same age as Sam Lake, or at least close, so he's in his early 50s.

just like Sam he's terrible at games but Logan still insist on playing together, mainly cause she likes making him grumpy.

he doesn't have a favorite music genre but he would not like noise or trap or grind, basically any gen z dark alt internet genres, but he does enjoy rock, some lower forms of metal, a SMIDGE of industrial like the tiniest bit, and only like one or two pop/hit radio songs.

he'd never say it out loud cause he wouldnt know when to but he finds the bond between the Anderson's absolutely adorable, especially with how Saga still wears her mother's sweaters after she's gone.

he's definitely cried at least once in front of Saga, probably when talking about his ex, which i'm sure made Saga hate her even though she's never met her.

Casey will and has stood on the porch of a house watching the rain fall like a typical white dad.

ermmmm thats all i have :] im so tired i hope you liked my ramblings on this sad lil guy

[tittyinfinity]

most hated songs list. in no particular order

22 by Taylor Swift

Shape of You by Ed Sheeran

Hey There Delilah by uhhh not Delilah

Bad Blood by Taylor Swift

Pumped Up Kicks by....school shooters?

tonight by fun.

austin powers theme song

national anthem

explanations (I'm only posting this bc I'm bored):

22 by T Swift

heard at work at least 5x a day on the radio

was nowhere around 22 when the song came out so i did not feel 22 i felt more like 16 because i was more like 16

song sucks in general if you're gonna do that do it for every age

I don't like her music in general

Shape of you by Ed Sheeran

extremely overplayed no matter where you went around that time you literally could not escape the song

objectifying

the tone of the song doesn't match the vibe of the lyrics anyway

if he said any of those words to me I'd pelt him with rocks

Hey There Delilah by I think Jason Mraz? Literally do not care enough to look it up

not THAT bad but overplayed enough to where I got sick of it

Bad Blood by T Swift

heard it at work even more often than 22

what a horrible way to make a diss track i'm sorry but it's so cheesy

again i don't like her music in general

Pumped Up Kicks

perfect example of how people will be just fine with violence in a song as long as it sounds upbeat and happy

song is usually liked by people who say they don't like rap because of "violence"

overplayed as fuck also

i'm sure the song has some kind of deeper meaning but i was in high school when it came out and all i thought was "this man is describing a school shooter so i do not want to listen to this"

Tonight by Fun.

this song can actually be good when timed correctly but it has to be timed VERY correctly

has to be like some intense nostalgia moment otherwise it's just annoying

even then it's kinda lost that pizazz bc of how much it was overplayed

Austin Powers theme song

my school played this in between classes in the hallways for months as "punishment" for having low attendance

between every class there would be 10 minutes of this song on repeat

they only quit bc we never reached goal and the teachers were going just as mad

really no hate to the song but imagine hearing it on a loop for 4 months and you're 16 years old trying to focus on multiple honors classes

National Anthem

national anthem

[dalmascan-requiem]

Lente's Hymn: Resistance (Chapter 1)

-------

It's time to face the past.

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Read on AO3 or keep reading after the jump

content warnings: none

Next Chapter >

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It's finally time to start the Bozja fic! This is one of the most important bits for both of my boys, and it is angsty. They have a lot to work through, after all, since Kris went MIA for four years going around doing Warrior of Light stuff. I'm not sure how long this one will be, but we'll be going through the whole Bozja story in the process!

Of note, I've moved the Bozja storyline from post-Shadowbringers to post-Stormblood, and Cid's around more. That's the important canon-bending stuff!

"Must you glare at me so, Kris?" Hancock looks over the rim of his teacup at the Viera, rose-rimmed glasses making his gaze inscrutable. "Have some tea! I just wanted to have a simple chat."

Kris sighs and leans over to pour himself some tea. "Chats are never simple with you."

"Hah! You know me too well." Kris's frown only grows deeper as Hancock chuckles, and the Hyur quickly clears his throat before continuing. "I have something of utmost importance to discuss."

Of course it's important… no one would call the Warrior of Light for a relaxing tea time. Kris inwardly rolled his eyes at the unwanted title. He's helped to liberate countries and slew eikons the world over, but it's never enough to earn some rest.

"I received word from Lord Hien that our friends in the Bozjan resistance, our comrades in the Eastern Alliance, seek the aid of distinguished heroes in their fight against the Empire." Hancock sets down his teacup with a smile. "Naturally, your name immediately sprung to mind."

The Bozjan resistance, strange that they're asking for help. Kris remembered some of the interactions--or rather, arguments the Bozjan and Dalmascan resistances had over the years. Neither group was willing to accept much in the way of outside help, to both force's detriment. 

But Bozja won't truly be free without loosening the Empire's grip on Rabanastre, and that much is clear to Bojzans and Dalmascans both. 

That means working with them eventually… but with any luck my work will be done before I run into someone that recognizes me. The last thing he'd want is for--

"So, what say you?"

Kris snaps out of his thoughts to look at Hancock. I forgot he was talking… "Yes, of course. I can't very well deny them after you so… thoughtfully talked me up, now can I?" He stands up and heads toward the door, tea untouched. "I'll find Hien straightaway. Thank you for the tea."

"Ah, must you leave so soo--" Kris shuts the door before Hancock can finish his sentence.

~

The next few days flew by in a haze. It appeared that the Bozjan Resistance wanted more than just heroes--they also wanted to outfit them with recreations of the Blades of Gunnhildr. Seeing vaunted heroes on the field with such legendary arms would serve not only to boost morale, but also send the Garleans a message that the Queensguard lives on.

The problem was no one remembered how the godsdamned things looked. It appeared, however, that Mikoto from the Students of Baldesion was able to conceive a device to delve into a person's subconscious--and if they found someone that had been close to the weapons in the past, they could get the information they'd need to recreate them now.

However, years past, the Garleans destroyed the whole of the Bozja capital, and with it, the soldiers that would have seen the Blades. But if Mikoto's precognitive Echo was correct, there is one person who can still help… Cid Garlond.

"Bozja… I would never have thought I could try to atone all these years later." Cid's voice is quiet, nearly carried away from the wind whipping around the airship.

Kris looks towards the man in silence until he continues. "The incident that destroyed the captial… it was my fault. If I had only--"

"Self-flagellating will get you nowhere." I know that all too well myself. "We will be diving into your past shortly, anyway. No need to torture yourself by reliving it now."

"Perhaps…" Cid mumbles, then turns to meet Kris's gaze. "Bozja is but a stone's throw away from Dalmasca."

Kris frowns slightly. "That it is."

Through a lapse of judgment on Kris's part, Cid found out about him being a former member of the Dalmascan Resistance. He didn't tell the Garlean much of the details, just enough to sate his curiosity. Thankfully, for his part, Cid never told another soul about this.

But his past is hard to ignore when it's so close by.

Cid clears his throat, then continues. "Is seeing your former comrades again something you wanted? No doubt they be happy to know one of their own is the Warrior of Light."

"I doubt that, Cid. And you know full well it's never been about what I wanted."

The sharp edge in Kris's tone stops Cid from prying further, and the Garlean falls silent until he speaks up again. "My apologies, that came out harsher than intended. Regardless, the Bozjan resistance is not working with Dalmasca--they'd spend too much time bickering instead of fighting the enemy."

"I see…" Cid stares at the horizon as Gangos comes into view, lost in thought.

Kris follows suit, looking at the fastly approaching cove. "Are you ready?"

"No, but I will face the past regardless."

~

Kris sighs as he watches the sunset. He and Mikoto delved into Cid's past as planned, and the Garlean was forced to face some harsh truths about his family and his past. It felt cruel, putting him through that…

However, the effort wasn't fruitless. Cid had been in the inner sanctum that held the Blades, and seen each in enough detail wherein the others could recreate both the look and the important inscriptions upon each weapon.

But as expected, creating the weapons takes time, and Kris has spent the last few days idle. He has offered to go to the battlefront, but Bajsaljen had refused, urging Kris to save his strength. The Viera spins a ring on his finger, frustrated with being unable to do anything.

Kris's ears twitch to the direction of footsteps from behind, breaking him out of his ruminations. He turns around quickly to the sight of Bajsaljen. "Apologies, I hadn't meant to sneak up on you."

Kris simply shakes his head and turns his gaze from the Hrothgar to the weapon in his hands. "Is that the blade you'll have me wield?"

"Yes." Bajsaljen lifts the greatsword up slightly. "This is Blade's Justice, a greatsword used by one of the Queensguard with some… more unique abilities."

Another Dark Knight, then. He takes the greatsword in hand and turns it over a few times. What a savage looking blade… and deadly sharp to boot. It'd take no effort to cleave a man in two. Such a fitting weapon for the Warrior of Light.

The Resistance leader continues. "The inscriptions you helped us recover have a use, as well. If you channel a small amount of aether into the blade, it will glow. Many soldiers rallied to the Queensguard on the battlefield by looking for the weapons' glow."

"Makes sense. Easier than trying to yell over the noise of battle, and it wouldn't be a proper recreation if it didn't act as a beacon… for allies and enemies alike." Bajsaljen fumbles over his words in an attempt to respond, but Kris ignores him and channels a sliver of aether into the blade. 

The weapon begins emitting a dark purple hue, somehow bright in spite of the shade. He watches the blade's colors pulse and shift for a moment before cutting off the flow of aether. 

"Fascinating." Kris looks back up to Bajsaljen. "Thank you, I'll be sure to use it well."

"Of that I have no doubt." Kris had thought the conversation would have ended there, but as the Hrothgar shifted his feet in the sand, it was clear he was not yet done.

"What else, Bajsaljen?"

"Ah--we've… we've completed the recreation of all the weapons, so we are nearly ready for you to join the front lines. We're simply waiting for the soldiers from Dalmasca to join us."

"The Dalmascan Resistance? I thought your group and theirs were on poor terms."

Bajsaljen lets out a growl of frustration. "That is true, but… we thought to extend our hand in hopes of mending the rift, and having a few of their strongest fighters wield the Blades and fight with us. To me, there seems no better way to work towards our shared goal than for the troops to see us all fighting together."

"I can't argue to that." As much as I wish I could… Godsdamnit, why is Dalmascan getting involved already? "Who are the soldiers they're sending?"

"I don't have any names, but of importance, they have a fighter that can wield the Blade's Resolve."

Kris's eyes widen slightly in shock. "You mean… the gunblade? Why would you have a Dalmascan wield the very symbol of the Queensguard?"

"We… have no Gunbreakers among our ranks. Not anymore." Bajsaljen shakes his head and shifts his gaze to the nearly-set sun. "We thought the art completely lost when the capital was destroyed, as so many were killed when the capitial fell. We had heard of a survivor happening upon the Dalmascan Resistance, however, and that he trained anyone with the aptitude how to wield a gunblade."

The Hrothgar crosses his arms. "Likely he thought he was the only one left and needed to pass down the art any way possible."

"I see…" Kris remembered the time the Hrothgar mercenary came across his camp all too well. He indeed taught as many as he could how to use a gunblade, but only a handful of soldiers showed enough aptitude and confidence to take them afield.

"But you needn't worry about the resistances' petty squabbles. Just know that you will have allies at your side." Bajsaljen turns around and begins heading back to the camp. "Rest well, the fighting will begin soon."

Kris watches Bajsaljen leave, then looks down at the greatsword, nervously strumming his fingers against the hilt. What awful luck to have Dalmascans joining us so soon. I hope no one recognizes me. And a gunbreaker too… The Warrior of Light looks out on the water reflecting the last light of dusk. I know there are several gunbreakers among their ranks, and likely even more have joined since I left, but I can't help but think to…

~

"Elja."

Laurent doesn't turn away from the papers scattered across the table of his tent. "What is it?"

"A-a message from the commander."

The Viera waves a hand vaguely toward the edge of the table. "Put it there, I'll look at it later."

He hears the messenger clear his throat. "The commander said the orders are urgent and I'm not to leave until I've seen you open it."

Laurent huffs and turns on his heel, facing the messenger. "Fine. Give it to me."

The messenger shifts his eyes away from Laurent and holds the letter out.

"Don't be so nervous, that'll get you killed next time you're carrying urgent messages across dangerous territory." Laurent grabs the letter out of the messenger's hand as he attempts to string together a response.

"I… yes, s-sir, noted sir…"

Laurent ignores him as he breaks the seal. Whenever Fran needs something from me, it's never anything pleasant. As fushcia eyes continue to scan the letter, he could tell that this time would be no different.

~*~

I have an urgent request of you. The Bozjan Resistance is looking to make a push to liberate their lands now that Garlemald is reeling from its losses. They are looking to recreate the Gueensguard, with none other than the Warrior of Light at their head.

Furthermore, the Bozjans have asked for a few token warriors in our ranks to help with the push, looking to bring us into the Queensguard as well. It appears to be a goodwill attempt, perhaps a way to get us to shift our focus to Bozja. That said, a unified front will be better than a fragmented one, so regardless of the reason I felt compelled to agree.

You are to travel to Gangos, where the resistance is currently stationed. Go there, accept their terms, and fight to free Bozja so we can free our own lands. Make sure our interests are known, so that they will not forget this kindness and help us, in turn.

~*~

"What in the seven hells is this? I am to simply drop everything and head to Bozja? Ridiculous--" Laurent looks up from the letter to complain to the messenger only to find him gone. I guess he did see me open the letter…

He reads over the contents a few more times before pinching the bridge of his nose. Gods, why me? I've never been good with the politics of dealing with the Bojzans. Eir was-- Laurent shakes his head and begins packing the tent up. I came here to fight, not to deal with the hemming and hawwing of the Bozjans.

"And the Warrior of Light, too…" The Viera clicked his tongue in annoyance. He had heard plenty of stories of the hero that has liberated countries around Hydaelyn, but he also knew they were too fantastical to be true.

No singular person could achieve such feats on their own. "On top of the Bozjans I'll have to deal with some pretenious and over-confident child that rode on the coattails of the armies and took all the credit. Gods, what a mission…"

But, I can't refuse Fran, so… I best prepare to leave.