#this show is litterally made for tumblr

[violet-periwinkle]

GUYS WE NEED TO SAVE THE SHOW QUICKLY

<blockquote class="twitter-tweet"><p lang="en" dir="ltr">DEAD BOY DETECTIVES debuted with 3.1M views in its first 4 days, meaning it's got a LONG way to go if it wants to see a renewal. <a href="https://t.co/4AXWxcBLDl">https://t.co/4AXWxcBLDl</a> <a href="https://t.co/CQr9oHJWUu">pic.twitter.com/CQr9oHJWUu</a></p>— What's on Netflix (@whatonnetflix) <a href="https://twitter.com/whatonnetflix/status/1785406455559983216?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">April 30, 2024</a></blockquote> <script async src="https://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js" charset="utf-8"></script>

TALK ABOUT THE SHOW AROUND YOU AND ON SOCIAL MEDIA !! SHARE THE TRAILER!! REWATCH THE SHOW AND COMPLETLY !!! DBD DESERVE A SEASON 2 AND WE DON'T WANT ANOTHER GOOD SHOW TO DIE BECAUSE OF NETFLIX BS !!

COME ON WE CAN DO IT

(completion numbers are very, veryyy important to netflix in order to get the show renewed)

[thealogie]

picture this. you're michael sheen, beloved queer-friendly welsh actor and recent twilight saga vampire. you want your favorite book to become a tv show, and you want to be the lead. so what do you do? you befriend the author. he wines and dines you, you become a confidant in the scriptwriting phase. and in the process of the GO script you decide you don't want to be crowley, actually, you want to be aziraphale. you put in the work for months to influence the author to the same conclusion. so when neil gaiman comes to you one day saying, "i know you joined on to be crowley... but how would you feel about playing aziraphale?" you say, what a novel idea! i was feeling the same way, i just didn't want to say anything! let's do it.

you're michael sheen, the lead in the adaptation of your favorite book. you meet david tennant as your leading man, a rising star (and vocal fan of yours) you've had a few vague interactions with in the past. on set you immediately find the closest friend you have ever and will ever find in your life, and you know this. the romance you have in your (yes, your) show is ambiguous, but you're michael sheen. you think that romance needs to be explicit. so what do you do? you become a nightmare on set. you get really hands-on; you make costume choices, you make story decisions, you tell your author friend at the very end of filming: aziraphale is in love with crowley and realizes it in 1941. now go do it again.

so the author goes and does it again. you get a season 2. you get 1941 part 2. you're michael sheen, and you are the lead of the adaptation of your favorite book, and the romance you littered into the character you built from the ground up has become unambiguous. everything goes according to plan. but, you see, you have a problem: the author you have baby trapped is acting a FIEND on twitter and tumblr. he's saying everything he can to imply aziraphale and crowley aren't sexually attracted to each other. he's getting a bit too bold with his character assumptions, is all i'm saying. so here's what you're going to do: you play it up with your pal david tennant. you made a show with him during lockdown. you're going to depict your lives as even more intertwined and homoerotically codependent as previously possible. you grow even closer. your wives become best friends, too, because how could they not? this has been the plan since the beginning, too. your lockdown show ends. it wasn't enough.

so you, michael sheen, of course you put in the work. if david tennant's there, you're damn sure you're there physically, spiritually, biblically, in whatever capacity you can be. it's not hard. david tennant is a big fan of yours, after all, so he MAKES SURE you're always in the conversation. you have him wrapped around your little finger, this lovely little boy, and so you know what you do next? you become neighbors. you make your directorial debut casting your best friend's wife watching her husband and male neighbor initiate sex with each other. you play into the swinging rumors (that you, michael sheen, had started). you create a narrative that you and david tennant are two homoerotic besties, and is there more going on in the background there? any deeper conspiracy? who really knows, but what you do know is that the world is talking about it.

and you, michael sheen, your entire acting career has led to this moment, your gay quips, your oscar wilde sex scene (and the interviews following), all of your queer roles, EVERYTHING has brought us to this conclusion. you have created the lab perfect conditions where season 3 must have an explicit gay sex scene. i'm sorry neil, my hands are tied! the people are clamoring for me and david tennant to have sex-- i mean aziraphale and crowley to have sex, the public decided this all on their own! i really don't think you have much choice. but of course, i would never deign to tell an author how to practice his veritable craft. i concede to whatever version of series 3 you create, and i will happy to bring this beloved character to his deserved ending.

and why do you say this? because you're michael sheen. you're just an actor who incidentally stumbled his way into leading the queer romance adaptation of your favorite book that wasn't a romance, and you just read the script the way that it was given to you. and if series 3 means an explicit sex scene between you and your best friend david tennant, then what a lovely coincidence that you had absolutely no part in making happen. because what power do you really have?

This is my favorite book I’ve read so far this year. A rare occasion where the author pulls off use of the second person pov. I really felt like I was a beloved welsh actor crossed with Machiavelli when I read this

[melancholyhigh]

WORK HOURS.

ft. re2!rookie!leon x lieutenant!reader

synopsis. you were supposed to help leon out on his first time on the job. instead, you’re helping him out in a different way.

content. smut. 1.2k words. car sex, cowgirl, unprotected p in v, dry humping, sub leon, marking, they’re both so desperate for each other, creampie, pet names, praise kink, virginity loss.

note. man, fuck tumblr. i accidentally posted the unfinished draft n didn't realise :( anyways, i hope you guys like it <3

check out my other works. comments & reblogs are appreciated !!

it was leon’s first week on the job, and you were assigned to show him around since he wasn’t well acquainted with raccoon city. boss thought it would be a great idea to take him on patrol to get him adjusted to the area. 

you were excited that a new recruit was joining. it didn’t happen too often, and you knew it was difficult being a rookie — you were in the same position when you had originally joined the RPD. so when you meet him, you plan on being a great lieutenant and helping him where necessary.

your first impression of leon was that he was sweet and a bit naive. he was also rather gorgeous. God certainly had favourites. you couldn’t help but stare at him, and he noticed. a pink blush blooming on his cheeks when he caught you gazing at him. the flushed look made him even more captivating as you secretly wished that the blush on his face would be for different reasons. 

you felt guilty for having such thoughts about him. you are his boss, for Christ’s sake. you have to assist him with his duties, not get in his pants. 

but how could you not think about him like that? the way he got flustered when your hands brushed up against his or the shy glances he took of you throughout the day as you showed him the workings of the place.

this constant build-up of teasing had been why the fine line between being work professional and fucking the shit out of him had been blurred. leaving you in the predicament you are in right now.

the glass windows are foggy as you and leon sloppily make out in the reclined passenger seat of the police car. you’re hovering over him, legs on either side of his thighs. your pants are off and somewhere near the driver’s seat. you’re too preoccupied with the soft whines that leave leon’s parted lips as you place opened-mouth kisses down the column of his throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. 

this isn’t what you had planned for the night. you and leon should've been patrolling the streets, searching for criminals, not dry-humping in a car in some shitty parking lot. 

but, fuck, the whimpers that he makes when he eagerly grips your hips with his big, soft hands and guides your clothed pussy against the bulge of his uniform pants have you overlooking your responsibilities for the rest of the night. 

“feel so good,” he groans quietly into your ear as you continue sucking marks on his neck. you pull back to admire your work. his lips, swollen from your passionate kissing, the buttons of his cotton shirt undone, exposing the expanse of his chest littered with reddish-purple marks. you want the sight seared into your brain.

he peers up through his eyelashes, eyes all glossy, and his face flushed with that same fucking blush you adore. he’s bucking his hips up to yours, pants stained with your arousal, leaking through your underwear and his arms circle your waist. 

“shit, i wanna feel you inside of me, honey,” you say breathlessly and leon nearly comes in his pants at the thought of feeling your cunt squeezing him tight. 

you’re leaning against the dashboard, clumsily unbuckling his belt before half haphazardly throwing it to the side. unzipping leon’s pants, you pull his cock out of his boxers. it’s flushed and red, especially at the tip, which leaked with precum. everything about him was pretty. 

you grasp his shaft, slowly stroking him. his face nuzzled against the crook of your neck. your warm hands moving up and down his rigid cock provided enough friction for him to make a mess all over your palms. you realised he was holding out for you, smiling you kissed the top of his head.

“you’re such a good boy, leon,” you said softly. 

at your words, you felt his hips jerk up into your hands. moans escaped his lips as he bit into your neck trying to contain them.

he whimpers your name, panting into the crook of your neck.

“need you so bad,” he sobs, tears swimming in his beautiful blue eyes. his cock pulsing and neglected when you pull your hands away from him. 

“fuck, okay, sweetheart,” you muttered. leon leans back into the reclined seat, his hands on your hips. his chest moving up and down with every breath he takes.

you push your damp panties to the side, exposing your dripping cunt, you grind onto leon’s cock, groaning when the bulbous head of his cock nicks your sensitive clit. leon gasps at the feeling of your warm, bare pussy up against him. he wouldn’t last that long inside of you.

his cock finally enters your cunt. barely the tip is in, and you both groan in unison. your nails dig into his shoulders for support as you continue to sink down into him. 

you feel each vein and ridge of his cock when he bottomed out in you. you moaned loudly. you were filled to the brim with him. 

leon’s chest heaves as he feels your warm, gummy walls swallow his cock. he wanted so badly to fuck into you, but he wanted to be good. 

“you’re amazing, sweetheart.” you huff out. “‘m gonna start moving, ‘kay?” 

he acknowledges your words by squeezing your hips, unable to trust his voice. 

you start bouncing on his cock, and all he manages are choked whines and whimpers that leave his pink, lips. he starts bucking his hips up to you, and you’re moaning when he reaches the spots you thought were imaginable. 

the obscene squelching sounds of your drenched cunt being pounded into by leon fills the car alongside his and your desperate moans. it’s insane how wet he makes you. 

“you hear that, baby? that’s how good you’re making me feel,” you say with a shaky voice. 

your words make his tummy tense. he holds you closer, his hips stuttering before he gets into a rhythm again. he’s close to coming. 

“‘m close,” he whimpers, and your pussy tightens around him at the sound of his broken voice.

his bangs are sticking to his forehead from the sweat that accumulated. he looks even more beautiful fucked out like this.

“come with me, baby,” you breathed. you brought one of your hands to your clit, rubbing tight circles. 

nearing your orgasm, you press your lips to his, pushing your tongue into his mouth. the intimate moment has both of you coming. 

leon’s legs are shaking as he comes inside your pussy. he moans into your mouth, feeling your cunt spasming around his cock when you climax. his hips came to a halt, and you feel his sticky cum ooze out of your sensitive pussy. 

you’re both breathless, and he’s still holding onto you like his life depends on it.

“you did so well, leon,” you mumble, moving the bangs from his forehead, giving him a kiss. leon heart skips a beat. you treat him so good.

[alexa-fika]

This idea is living in my mind rent free and won't leave me alone!

So Roger pirates (also young shanks and buggy) x puppet!child!f!reader.

Can you do some lyrics from the song "Puppet boy?"

Reader is from a circus, a dangerous one. The Ringmaster has a power where he can control people like puppets and most of the performers are adults who don't get in the way but the ringmaster prefers reader and controls the most in stunts and performances and very dangerous ones, even for adults, like flying trapeze in a very high hight with no support and other crazy things. The audience members don't sense anything only seeing the reader as talented. They don't see reader controlled as the puppet strings are invisible to them. Roger pirates was visiting an Island, saw that s huge event at a circus and decided to go. They see reader who has clown makeup on their face and a circus outfits preforming with adults in VERY dangerous acts. The circus decide to take a quick break to set up for the new act and the ringmaster wants a talk with reader. Reader has to do every dangerous stunt on her own with no help to gain more money for the circus.

Roger pirates save her from the circus and set the performers free. You can add how they save her and how'd they know that she was being controlled. I want an very actiony,angsty thing, if it's alright.

Thank you

The apprentices apprentice (Roger pirates x child!reader)

Ps mad and throwing a tantrum cause tumblr just deleted my draft. ANYWAY GUYS FINALLY I FINISHED IT, there are some parts im still hesitant about but other than that I think I like this one. I’m not good with action so let me know what you think; also tell me why it wasen’t until now that I saw the end of the request like it din’t register on my brain until now so HERES YOUR ACTION ANGSTY PIECE, TOTALLY HAS ACTION AND ANGST BECAUSE YOU ASKED FOR IT AND NOT BY ACCIDENT 😀Another also! I was writing this at work so at first I was just looking at the lyrics and I was like ‘okay this must have a really melancholic sound’ tell me why the somg is so upbeat 😂

Execution scene…

This piece has one line that hints to having at least medium length hair, if this does not fit you you can always imagine it is a wig as I made sure it wasen’t explicit that it was their hair or you can also take it as their hijab being arranged rather than hair

Dividers by @/firefly-graphics and @/drinkthesky

Reader here is replaced by Dokucha which stands for Reader in japanese for my ease lf writing and the enjoyment of oc readers

The man behind the child let out a hum as he looked at the mirror and tried different hairstyles on them.

“Perhaps we should do a half-up-down style; what do you think, dear?

“…”

“Aww, come on, don’t tell me you are still throwing a tantrum?” He teased looking down at them

“Well, dear, if you weren’t so stubborn, I wouldn’t have to hurt you the way I do; it is quite simple,” he carelessly added as he continued working on their hair, eventually turning them around to begin working on their make-up.

“Oh, how I wish you didn’t make me have to punish you; now look, your skin is all stained. That’s alright, nothing some makeup can’t cover, right?” he spoke as he forcefully pulled their chin up and began to apply powder on their face paying extra attention to the dark bruises that litter their face

“You will do today’s show without any nets or supports,” he informed them.

“W-What?”

“Don’t move.” He sneered as his words caused the small child to flinch back

“Don’t act so surprised, dear; the audience paid a lot to watch you, so it’s only fair to have something at stake.”

“B-But what if I fall?” They cried, slapping his hands away as they jumped off the chair

“Enough.” He growled making, putting his hand out and wiggling his finger in a ‘come here motion’ a dark grin growing on his face as they were pulled towards him as he did

“You seem to be really defiant lately. Do you want the strings to come back? Perhaps I was too benevolent in giving you free will,” he sneered

“Well? Do you?!” He boomed

“No!” She cried

“Good. Next time, I won’t be as nice,” he said, walking out of the room and glancing back at the crying child on the floor.

“Enough with the tears. Your makeup will get damaged. Get ready for the show; you will be out in a few minutes.”

They sighed, looking at themselves in the mirror, trying to calm the erratic beating of their hearts at the stunts they were forced to do minutes before. Eventually, a few sniffles escaped them, sniffles turning into small hiccups and small hiccups turning into a cascade of tears as the events of the day began to catch up to them.

“Wait, Buggy, you idiot!”

It wasn’t until the sound of something crashing behind them that they were pulled out of their spiral and stared at the two boys standing there.

“Me?! You were the one that shoved me!” A voice cried

“Did not”

“Ye-

“Who are you?” The child asked, staring wide-eyed at the couple of teens bickering in front of them

“Sorry to barge in, we just were looking around,” the redhead answered, turning his attention from his friend to them.

“You can’t be ere!” they hissed.

“I know, I know, this is backstage, but we wanted to see what it was like. Buggy here was really impressed by your act, so we wanted to take a peak.”

“I was not!” the red-nose boy protested, shooting up.

“No! No! You can’t be ere!” Dokucha cried, jumping down from the chair

“Hey, Hey, it’s okay. We were just leaving,” Shanks assures them with an easy smile on his face despite having been caught.

“N-

“Dokucha!” A voice angrily boomed

“Ah!” the child looked at the sound of the voice with a terrified look on their and back to the two boys, quickly running towards them and pulling them to a nearby closet, ignoring the confused protests of the two.

“H-Hey!”

“Shhh!” they called, closing the door just in time for the ringmaster to storm in

“Wha- Agh!” they cried as the man sent them flying back with a punch to their face. A livid expression on their face as they did

The child looked up at the man, holding their cheek in pain as they did; despite this not being a to them, it did not make this treatment any easier on the child.

“R-Ringmaster?” they questioned

“You useless brat!” he growled, kicking them back and watching as the child crashed against the masts of the tent at his actions.

“I’m soy! I’m sory. I can make it better, please!”

“You think I didn’t notice?! What have I told you about hesitating when making your jumps, you worthless piece of shit!”

Tears started to fall from Dokucha’s eyes as they slowly picked themselves up, looking up at the monster in front of them.

“P-Please, I wasn’t h-

“Shut up,” He roared.

“It’s obvious I was too lenient on you in giving you some kind of free will; it’s time you remember your place,” he muttered, a dark look growing on his face as he snapped his fingers. He grinned, satisfied at the child’s cries as they were pulled into the air, strings slowly enveloping their bodies.

Ignoring the cries and pleas of the child, he tightened his hand into a fist, watching as the strings seemed to follow their lead as they painfully tightened against the child until they began digging into their skin.

It was their cries that prevented the ringmaster from hearing the scuffle that seemed to occur behind him as this went on. As a livid Shanks started struggling against Buggy, who held the teen back from storming into the scene

“Buggy, we have to do something,” he growled, struggling against his friend’s holds.

“I know, idiot! But look, the guy is a devil-fruit user, a strong one!” Buggy hissed with terrified tears pooling in his eyes at the terrifying scene they had found themselves in

“He’s going to kill them!”

“And us if we run in there!” Buggy shot back

“So what we just watch as he kills they bleed to death?!” he hissed, breaking free from his friend’s hold and turning towards him.

“N-No! I sent a hand to fetch the captain; we have to wait until they get here!”

“They don’t have that kind of time, Buggy!”

“Just wait, you moron!”

Before Shanks could throw another retort toward his crewmate, loud bangs and screams rang outside of the tent, something that the ringmaster also took notice of. As he let out a few curses as he gave one last look at the child and made his way out of the tent to investigate the commotion.

“They’re here!” Buggy exclaimed with a relieved smile

Not a second later, the two pushed their way out of the closet and ran towards the child, who by now had fallen unconscious, no doubt due to the amount of blood that slowly trickled from their body and down the strings that held them up in a morbid resemblance to a fly trapped in a spider’s web.

Pulling out his throwing knives, Buggy made quick work of the strings, watching as the child fell into Shanks’s awaiting hands as he ran next to the redhead to check on the child.

“H-Hey, are they d-dead?” he questioned, looking down at the child.

“H-Hey! Wake up! Hey!” Shanks cried, trying to shake awake the lifeless body of the child

“Now then, what have you lads gotten yourselves into?” A voice cut into as they walked into the tent, interrupting the teens fretting over the child

“Captain!” Buggy cried, looking at the man at the door of the tent

“Captain! Please! Help!” Shanks begged, looking up at his captain, terrified as he hugged Dokucha’s body closer to them

Roger stared at his apprentices agape, quickly taking in the scene in front of him as he hurried towards them.

“Crocus! Get in here!” he hollered.

It had been a week since those events took place; since then, Crocus had managed to save the child but was unsuccessful in pulling them out of the unconscious state they had been placed in. According to the Doctor, it was likely they had fallen into a comma as a response their body had to the stress undergone due to the torturous treatment at the hands of the ringmaster.

After they had been stabilized, the crew had another problem on their hands; their interference in the circus had caught the attention of the marines, and as such, they needed to set sail. The original plan was to leave the child under the care of the now-freed performers and set off; this, however, did not go as planned. Much to the crew’s surprise, the two apprentices had begged their captain to bring Dokucha along rather than leave them behind at the circus.

Some crew members objected to this idea, concerned with the child’s well-being if they were to be brought upon the ship. Unlike when the two current apprentices were taken in, the crew now sailed more dangerous waters with perilous missions, enemies, and much higher notoriety than a decade prior.

Roger, ever having a soft spot for children, agreed to the teen’s requests under the promise that they had to take part in the caring for the child, something the two had agreed to in an instant. It was clear to the crew that the apprentices had developed a bond with the small child, perhaps reminded of their own origins when they were brought aboard the Oro Jackson; regardless, in the past week, they had made true to their promise as the two were often found hanging on the sick bay watching for any new updates on the state of Dokucha. Despite being out of their element when they first woke up terrified and in tears against all odds, the teen had managed to assure the child, promising to remain by their side.

It had taken a few more weeks for the child to adjust to their new life and leave behind the fear that came with their old life. Still, with time, they had slowly reverted to a gleeful three-year-old once again, ready to join Shanks and Buggy in any mischievous adventures the two went on.

“Who’s that?” Dokucha questioned from their position on Buggy’s lap as both him Shanks sat with them on the Deck of the ship as they scanned over a piece of Newspaper

“They are a bunch of nobodies!” Buggy sneered, watching as the Whitebeard pirates had once again taken over the headline of the newspaper

Dokucha looked up at the paper once again, a grin on their face as they took the picture of the pirates in

“They look prety cool!”

“That’s what they want you to think, Dokucha! They may look cool, but they are nothing compared to us.” Buggy Boasted

“Yes! Cause Roer pirates r e best,” they cheered.

"Dhahahaha good Job Dokucha!" Shanks grinned as he stood up, throwing the child in the air and causing them to let out gleeful squeals at the action.

“Still, what a bummer, those guys are getting all the glory,” he stated as he put Dokucha on his hip and continued to Scan the newspaper, only for it to be snatched from his hands.

“A samurai, huh?” their captain laughed.

“I would love to meet him!” he exclaimed

“Capi!” Dokucha cheered, extending their arms towards the man, laughing as he complied with their silent request and grabbed them from Shanks

“Hey there, champ!” he exclaimed, lifting them up in the air.

“How are you feeling today? What are you up to with the lads?”

“I’m good! Shans-nii and Buggy-nii are showing me the whybear pirates.” They grinned.

“Whitebeard,” Shanks Scoffed out with a snicker.

“Whiebeard!” they parroted

“Wahahahaha! I’m glad you’re in good spirits today!” he called, putting them down and watching as they ran their way back to Buggy, hugging their leg happily and letting out a giggle as the clown picked them up and placed them on his hip as he made silly faces to the child.

“Where are we heading now, Captain?” Shanks questioned

“We’re on the way to a nearby summer Island. I have received reports of the Whitebeard crew being spotted close. It will be the perfect chance to meet this Samurai fellow!”

“We’re going to meet the Wildboars?!” Dokucha called excitedly

Shanks sighed, giving up on correcting them and pulling on the cheek of the child.

“Dokucha, you have to stay next to us, okay? I don’t trust those guys!”

“Oey! Shans-nii!” they whined, slapping his hand away with a frown, promptly being replaced by a smile.

“But it’s okay cause Capi and bothers are gonna be there!” they cheered.

"Wahahaha! That's right Dokucha! Just stay near us and everything will be fine!"

“Yes Capi!”

Okay yes that last part highkey dosen’t fit the whole action pace of the story and much less the narration that followed after but listen I could not in good conscience not add wholesomeness! I couldn’t, just lil Dokucha hanging from shank’s hip or cuddle in his lap as he read or Buggy’s faces to make them laugh 🥹 and omg the capi, im so smart yall 🤭

Taglist:

@Imaginarydreams

@amethystviolin

@h0n3y-l3m0n05

@hannahbarberra162

[girliism]

LAST CHRISTMAS.

pairing: tashi duncan x reader

summary: in which tashi goes back home for christmas.

note: childhood friends that fell out to lovers, it’s 2013, use of y/n, tashi sexuality confrontation, ugly sweater party, me yearning to experience my childhood christmas again is manifested in light shows and tree mazes, semi proof read but only the beginning, word count idk i wrote this on tumblr but it’s kinda long (sorry), divider by @ issysh3ll

-

it’s cold. that’s the first thing tashi thinks when she steps out of her car and onto the snowy driveway of her childhood home. she hasn’t spent a christmas here since she left for college, but all the decorations are the same. save for the mini tree that her younger self would personally decorate. that was missing.

—

“tashi!” her mother greeted her at the front door. “we’re so happy to have you back this year.” it’s warm now, with the heat coming from inside the house and her mothers arms wrapped around her. she felt at home.

“we’re so glad you decided to come.”

“you’ve been gone so long.”

“how was the drive?”

“oh, tash we missed you last year.”

her family spoke all at once to her as her mother placed another plate of food in front of her. “you must be hungry from the drive.” she had said.

tashi answered their questions with a smile, just glad none of them had asked about art yet.

“so, where’s my future son in law? will he be joining us later?” she felt the eyes of her mom, dad, and little brothers staring her down. tashi harshly swallowed the food in her mouth before placing her fork down. she knew what they were expecting to hear, and it was not…

“we decided to call off the engagement.”

no one said anything, they just looked at her, processing what she had said. “good, i always knew he was a douche.” her little brother said, breaking the silence. “nico!” her mom let out a groan, smacking him on the head. she watched her scold him for the comment he made. he sent her a wink and tashi gave him a nod, silently thanking him for taking the focus off her and the bomb she just dropped.

—

tashi tucked herself into her old bed. her room hadn’t changed a bit, the same poster still littered her walls, fairy lights she put up at thirteen still working to make her room feel a little less dark.

her dad and brothers were gone by the time she woke up, only her mother sat in the kitchen writing what she assumed was a christmas dinner menu.

“morning.”

“good morning honey, how was your sleep.” tashi made her way to the coffee maker.

“good.”

her mom watched her move about the kitchen. filling up her cup with coffee, opening the cabinet to grab a bowl and some cereal then to the fridge for some milk. after assembling her breakfast tashi could still feel her mothers eyes on her. tashi slowly brought her graze from her bowl to her mom.

they had a silent staring match. tashi could tell her mom was holding back from asking her about what she said last night.

tashi rolled her eyes. “ok, go on, ask.” tashi’s mom shook her head turning her attention back to her menu pretending not to know what she was talking about. “i don’t know what you’re referring too.” another eye roll. “mom.” her mom let out a sigh taking off her glasses. “ok, fine. what happened? you two were perfectly in love the last time i saw you, and now you’re no longer together?”

she understood her mother’s confusion. on paper her and art were perfectly in love but behind closed doors tashi felt like she was trying to keep up with art’s affection for her. it also didn’t help that she made an unforgivable mistake in atlanta that still eats her up inside two years later.

“the engagement itself was already kinda rushed and after awhile it stopped feeling….right. i guess.” in the beginning tashi was happy to be engaged but then the more she thought about it the more out of control she felt, like she was suffocating. the title of future mrs. art donaldson reaching out and choking her.

tashi shrugged playing with the now soggy cereal in her bowl. “it was a clean break up. art was upset, i mean who wouldn’t be. but he uh… wants me to keep coaching him so i guess he doesn’t completely hate me.” she let out a sighed laugh. “oh, tash.” her mom placed her hand on top of tashi’s fidgeting one. “the two of you are so young anyway. and hey, if it ever starts feeling right again there’s still time.” tashi gave her mom a sad forced smile.

the air around them had turned all depressing and sad until her mom cleared her throat. “on a happier note. dad put an order out for a mini tree that’s waiting to be picked up. usually we’d go get and decorate it ourselves, but you’re here now and we thought maybe you could revive this old tradition?” her mom poked lightly at her cheeks with a small smile.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

—

tashi left her mom to go shopping while she made her way to tree shop across the street.

the smell of pine from the array of christmas trees took her back to when she was younger. running through the maze of giant trees with her brothers while her parents bought the tree.

“tashi?”

a voice calls her name. a voice she hasn’t heard in over seven years.

tashi turned around to be faced with you.

you had been coming back from helping a family load a tree into their car where you saw a tall figure standing near the entrance. you were going to pass her off as just another costumer but the way she was standing always with perfect posture felt too familiar.

“tashi, wow. i thought that was you. what are you doing back home?”

“y/n, hey.” after all these years your name felt for so foreign on her tongue. “i’m just back for the holidays.” tashi hadn’t prepared for this interaction. which she probably should have since this is your families christmas tree farm she’s shopping at.

you smile at her. you had stopped expecting tashi to come back after the first two years you spent knocking on the duncan’s door, not so discreetly asking if tashi was home. but she was here now and you had really missed her, even after everything.

tashi cleared her throat. “so, your dad still making you work.” you huffed a little laugh. “yeah, expect now he actually has to pay me.” having a family business that thrived during christmas ment spending your winter break freezing your ass off in a little christmas tree outfit, or twirling a sign, to now helping sell actual trees.

“it really isn’t that bad-”

“tashi duncan is that you?” a loud voice cut you off, turning your focus from each other and onto the person it belonged too. your dad.

“yes, sir it’s me.” tashi made her way towards him. “how have you been?” your dad immediately pulled her in for a hug, catching her off guard. “how have i been? no, how have you been? gosh it’s been years. you know, y/n complains constantly about how we had lost you to the superficial california life.” he let out a full belly laugh. tashi’s eyes flicked towards where you were standing, cheeks showcasing a slightly blush that’s could either be from the cold or embarrassment.

your dad turned to look at you. “y/n, why don’t you go and get tashi her tree while we catch up.” the man gave you no room to argue back, with an eye roll you stomped your way through the snow.

when you come back, your dad and tashi were laughing like a pair of old friends. topbled over clutching their stomach, you could hear their mixed laughter from the few feet away that you were.

“i got the tree.”

you and tashi carried the tree across the street to her car yourselves. her at one end you at the other. you could see her breath in the the cold air whenever she huffed.

the back door to her car is slammed shut after the tree is mounted onto the top of her roof.

“well, it was really nice seeing you again tashi.” the smile you gave her was tight lipped. “don’t be a stranger.”

tashi watched you walk away and it was giving her a sick sense of deja vu.

“y/n.”

you stopped and turned around.

“did you wanna help me decorate this tomorrow?”

it was a childish ask, helping decorate a tree but tashi was desperate. desperate to keep talking to you, desperate to try and mend the one good thing she once had.

“i don’t have anything better to do.”

numbers were exchanged and goodbyes were said. you made your way back across the street leaving tashi at her car.

“hey, was that y/n?” tashi’s mom came back with groceries in her hand. her voice snapping tashi out of her head. “huh? oh, yeah it was.” her mom opened the car door, dropping the bags inside. “hm, she was always a nice girl.”

—

you sat in your car outside tashi house, your thumbs anxiously drumming on the steering wheel. you eyed your watch a couple times until the hands read 12:00 before stepping out into the cold.

even in the day time the duncan’s lavishly decorated house looked amazing. candy cane sticks stuck out of the ground lining the driveway all the way up to the porch.

three knocks were delivered onto the door. you waited, staring down at the brown mat when the door opened.

“give me just one minute i’ll be right out.” tashi told you, disappearing back into her house.

you’ve done this a million times in your youth. waiting outside on the porch swing for tashi so the two of you can go play. old habits must die hard, because here you were falling into easy motion of swaying back and forth. the wood creaking every so often while you waited.

tashi finally stepped out in a white north face coat with matching gloves. she was carrying a big box full of christmas tree decorations, a wide smile on her face.

you silently wrapped the tree with light while tashi kneeled over the box rifling through the balls of ornaments, picking whatever caught her eye.

you cleared your throat. “so, what’s life like for you nowadays.”

tashi hummed, thinking back on her day to day. she’d wake up unbelievable early, train with art, take a break to answer emails and check schedules, another training session with art, have dinner together, then do it all over again tomorrow.

“to be honest, really fucking boring.” you both laughed.

“what, not having fun planing your wedding?” you cringed at how your words came out a lot snarky then intended.

tashi sighed, standing up and walked over to you with four ornaments in her hand. she passed two to you. “that’s actually not happening anymore.” she spoke softly, dropping one of the shiny plastic balls onto the tree.

“oh.” you bit at your lip and mumbled. “sorry.” tashi just shrugged.

“at least now you don’t have to send me a pity invite.” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. which seemed to work because tashi shot you the look she always gave when you would distract her. that unimpressed, slightly amused look that had you biting back a smile.

“shut up. you would have gotten a real invite.”

you gasped overly dramatic placing a hand over your heart. “are you saying i was really on the guest list?”

“of course you were.” tashi scoffed. “you’re supposed to my maid honor. remember.” she nudged your shoulder.

like most girls, you and tashi spent a lot of time planning your weddings. tashi’s wedding would be first then yours the day after because having a wedding on the same day was cliche in tashi’s eyes. though you wanted the wedding to take place on the same day for a totally different reason.

“i also remember you wanting a pink wedding dress. does that still stand?” tashi let out a loud laugh, shaking her head. “god no!”

the rest of the decorating went on like that. light laughs and joking until if was time to put on the star.

you passed the star off to tashi but she pushed back into your hands. “you put it on.” she insisted. you shook your head. “it’s your tree, you should but the star on.” tashi sigh obnoxiously, putting her hands on your shoulder. “exactly, it’s my tree meaning my rules and i want you to put it on.”

she was looking you right in the eyes and it was making your beat a little faster than normal. never being able to deny tashi, you place the star right on the head of the tree. “pretty.” tashi muttered, looking at the newly decorated tree while you looked at her. “yeah, pretty.”

tashi walked you to your car. “so, are you coming tomorrow?” tomorrow. the duncan’s annual christmas eve ugly sweater party. “yeah, i’ll be the one in the ugly sweater.” tashi laughed again and this was probably the most she’s laughed in the past year. “i’ll keep a look out.” you nodded and got in your car.

—

“do you think i should have brought more wine?”

“mom.”

“honey, one bottle is more than enough.”

“i should’ve brought the rosé”

you rolled your eyes as you mom argues with herself over which alcoholic beverage she should have brought.

the front door to the duncan house opened. tashi parents greeted yours then pointed you in the direction of the kitchen where tashi was.

inside the house was warm from the fireplace burning and the amount of bodies in it. christmas music played throughout the home and you followed the smell of gingerbread to find tashi hunched over a freshly baked try.

“nice sweater.” you said loudly over all the music and talking.

tashi playfully rolled her eyes at you. she knew her sweater her wasn’t nice it was incredibly cheesy, santa playing tennis. typical. “not as nice as yours.” she pointed out, handing you a glass of eggnog.

“doesn’t get as nice as santa on a stripper pole, does it.” you took a sip of the obviously spiked drink. tashi shook her head smiling and you couldn’t help but smile as well.

the party went on as it does every year. very intense games of charades are played, the team with you and tashi winning multiple times. the adults getting way to hyped on the spiked eggnog causing a very unserious but very heated discussion on what christmas movie is truly the best.

“you wanna get out of here.” you jumped at the sound of tashi’s voice echoing through your ears. you look up at where she was standing above you nodding her head to the back door she started walking towards.

you slowly slipped out your chair, grabbing your shoes from the front door and making your way to the kitchen, slipping out the doors to find tashi waiting for you.

snow covered the entire ground and in the distance sat the treehouse tashi’s dad built her years ago. it was still standing, looking in perfectly good shape. you eyed the treehouse then tashi, nudging her shoulder.

“last one there is a rotten egg.” you stated. tashi gave you a competitive look wasting no time bursting out in a sprint to the treehouse. you immediately chased after her, the cold wind blowing against your face. you won by a landslide, climbing up the ladder and into the house.

“wow.” you muttered to yourself. not a single thing had changed. the same bean bags and drawings filled the tiny space. tashi finally pulled herself up with a slight struggle. she rested her back against one of the walls, her head thrown back and eyes closed as she tried to steady her breath.

you placed yourself next to her watching as her hands massage over her knee. her knee. you knew what happened, everyone knew what had happened.

“does it hurt?” you spoke softly. “sometimes. only if i push myself to far.” you chewed on your bottom lip, a nervous habit you had yet to kick. “i wanted to call you know… when it happened.” tashi scoffed. “yeah, well you didn’t.” you flinched, her words were harsh.

“i know, and i’m sorry for not being there for you. i just—we hadn’t talked since that day.” you sighed, eyes locking with tashi’s brown ones. “i just figured i was the last person you wanted to see.” tashi moved her hand from her knee and slotted your hands together, fingers interlocking. her face was so close to your, noses nearly touching, you could smell the peppermint candy cane she was eating earlier on her breath.

“i wanted you there. god, i wanted you there so badly. probably would have felt less alone.” you squeezed her hand. “i’m here now.”

tashi would probably—definitely hate herself for doing this later but right now it felt right to inch her face closer to yours. you slowly mirroring her movements. your lips so close to touching, eyes closed… then a loud knock rang though the treehouse before the latch in the floor opened causing you and tashi to rip away from each other.

a head of brown curls popped through. “tash, mom’s looking for you, time to say goodbye to guest.” her little brother looked over to you. “hey, y/n.���

“hi, nico.”

the two siblings left the treehouse but you stayed for a while until the cold got unbearable.

“it was such a lovely party, thank you again for having us.” your mother and tashi’s hugged while your dads made plans to get beers together soon. you zipped yourself into your coat, making you way over to tashi.

“bye, tash.” you whispered. she gave you a short wave and closed lip smile. and you and your parents were out the door.

—

it was christmas morning and tashi hadn’t got out of bed yet. all night and all this morning she replayed in her mind what happened, or rather almost happened in the treehouse. what if her brother never interrupted, would she really have kissed you? her train of thought was stopped when her phone pinged with a message from you.

[from: y/n]

good morning, merry christmas.

tashi closed her phone, pressing the palms of her hands into her eyes. she couldn’t respond to you, not yet. not while her was swimming with things she thought she got over.

making her way down the stairs, she could hear laughter coming from the kitchen and elf playing in the background from the living room tv.

“there she is. thought we were gonna have to have breakfast without you.” her mother placed a hand on her cheek and passed her a plate. the both of them moving to join everyone else in the living room.

seating here watching her family open presents, laugh and crack jokes had tashi questioning herself. why had she taken so long to come home?

every year you town sets up a light display where you come drive through and see all the decorations. and every year you and tashi would have your parents drive through the past all the displays before meeting up in the middle where hot chocolate was for a dollar was served.

you didn’t even know if tashi was coming, but you still stood outside the hot chocolate stand with a tiny wrapped present in your hand. then a black suv that you knew belonged to the duncan family pulled up and exited the vehicle, tashi being the last.

she wearing that same north face coat and you made you way to her.

“hey, did you get my message?” tashi hummed. “i did, merry christmas.”

you nodded, taking a deep breath holding out the present you had in your hand for her to take. tashi’s eyes widened as she took the box from you. “oh, you didn’t have to get me anything-” you stopped her. “it’s fine, i technically didn’t get this for christmas. it was the supposed to be the gift i gave you after you won the us open juniors.”

tashi’s heart fell at that. us open juniors. the open she met art and patrick at. the open she practically forbade you from coming to.

—

“ok, so we’re all set. i’ve made the playlist to last us the whole plane ride.”

tashi slammed the truck of her parents car shut before walking over to you. “about that… um, do you mind if you miss this on?”

you stopped what you were doing. “why?”

tashi shrugged, playing with a lose thread on her shirt. “it’s just, i really need to focus and you being there would throw me off.” you rolled you eyes. “i’ve been to every single one of your games, tash. how is this one different?”

tashi really didn’t wanna fight right now she just need you to listen to her. “it just is, ok.”

you narrowed your eyes. “is this about what happened last night? is that why you’re being all weird?” tashi’s head immediately snapped up to look at you. “no!” yes. the kiss that happened the night before had really messed with tashi’s head, a lot more then she could handle. “last night was nothing, it doesn’t have to do with anything. you just distracted me and i can’t afford distractions.”

you scoffed, not having the energy to argue with her. “whatever, tashi. good luck at game.” you walked away from her.

—

that memory played like a movie in tashi’s mind as she looked down at the box in her hand.

“anyways, it’s probably pathetic that i kept it after all these years but i thought you should have it.” you didn’t notice the tears had started to well in tashi’s eyes until she looked up at you. “tash?”

“i’m sorry.” her voice cracked. “i’m sorry for shutting you out like that.” you shook you head with widen eyes. “it’s fine, it’s ok. i’ve gotten over it, really.” you tried to reassure her.

“but it’s not ok. i was mean to you, i basically cut you out of my life because i was scared. scared of what that kiss ment. scared of what would happen after.” she took a deep breath. “i was scared of myself and fucking terrified of my parents. and i took it out on you. you, the only person to this day that makes my stomach feel all weird and my insides warm. so many times i wanted to call you or reach out to you but i kinda thought you hated me-” tashi’s rambling was cut short by your lips on hers. your lips that were warm despite the freezing cold.

for that moment where yours and tashi’s lips moved as one everything felt right, like the last seven years had been leading up to this moment.

tashi broke the kiss to look you in the eye. “sorry for being a bitch to you.” she apologized again, prompting you to roll your eyes. “just so you know i could never hate you.” you bumped your nose on hers. tashi let out a huffed laugh, bringing one of her hands up to your cheek to pull you in for another kiss not caring that you were standing were anyone could see because right now it was just you and her.

—

[gingermintpepper]

As usual I read your tags always and so you said Apollo did not ask for resurrection of Asclepius and Hyacinthus so i just wanted to share this. About Asclepius death I read it on theoi.com, that earlier authors don't make him resurrect as a god but that's a later development mentioned only by Roman authors like Cicero, Hyginus and Ovid. But still Apollo has a role in Ovid's version

Ovid, Fasti 6. 735 ff (trans.Boyle) (Roman poetry C1st B.C. to C1st A.D.) : Clymenus [Haides] and Clotho resent the threads of life respun and death's royal rights diminished. Jove [Zeus] feared the precedent and aimed his thunderbolt at the man who employed excessive art. Phoebus [Apollon], you whined. He is a god; smile at your father, who, for your sake, undoes his prohibitions [i.e. when he obtains immortality for Asklepios].

So here it is actually because of Apollo the decision was taken to resurrect him as god. And with Hyacinthus, I don't think I've read about Artemis playing the primary role. I know in Sparta there was a picture of Artemis, Athena and Aphrodite carrying Hyacinthus and his sister to heaven.

This is not on theoi.com but I saw on Tumblr it's from Dionysiaca by Nonnus

Second, my lord Oiagros wove a winding lay, as the father of Orpheus who has the Muse his boon companion. Only a couple of verses he sang, a ditty of Phoibos, clearspoken in few words after some Amyclaian style: Apollo brought to life again his longhaired Hyacinthos: Staphylos will be made to live for aye by Dionysos.

So since he is singing inspired by amyclean stories it probably means in that place it was believed Apollo was the one to bring back his lover to life.

Apollo as god of order was very important so i think it shows how special these people (and admetus too) were to him that he decided to go against the order for them 🥺

ANON!! Shakes you like a bottle of ramune!! BELOVED ANON!!!!! I'm littering your face with kisses, I'm anointing you with olive oil and honey - you absolutely made my night with this because, not only did I get the pure serotonin shot of having someone interact with my tags (yippee, wahoo!!) I also got to have that wonderful feeling of "oh wow, have I misunderstood something that was integral to my understanding of this myth/figure this whole time or is this a case of interpretational differences?" which is imo vital for my aims and interests as someone who enjoys mythological content and literature.

I'll preface my response with this: Hyacinthus is by far the hardest of these to get accounts for because his revival itself, as you very astutely point out, is generally accounted for in painting/ritual format which muddies the waters on who interceded for what. I wasn't actually familiar with that passage from the Argonautica - and certainly didn't remember it so thank you very much for bringing it to my attention!

That said, what I've come to understand, both about Hyacinthus and about Asclepius is that in the accounts of their deaths, Apollo's position is startlingly clear.

For Hyacinthus, it is established time and again that Apollo would have sacrificed everything for him - his status, his power, his very own immortality and divinity. Ovid writes that Apollo would have installed him as a god if only he had the time:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses. Book X. trans. Johnston)

Many other writers too speak of how Apollo abandoned his lyre and his seat at Delphi to spend his days with Hyacinthus, but they also all agree that when it came to his death - he was powerless. Ovid gives that graphic account of Apollo's desperation as he tries all his healing arts to save him to no avail:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book X. Apollo me boy, methinks him dead. trans Johnston)

Bion, in one of his fragments, writes that Apollo was "dumb" upon seeing Hyacinthus' agony:

(Bion, The Bucolic Poets. Fragment XI. trans Edmonds)

Even Nonnus in the Dionysiaca speaks constantly of Apollo's helplessness in the face of Hyacinthus' fate where he writes that the god still shivers if a westward wind blows upon an iris:

and when Zephyros breathed through the flowery garden, Apollo turned a quick eye upon his young darling, his yearning never satisfied; if he saw the plant beaten by the breezes, he remembered the quoit, and trembled for fear the wind, so jealous once about the boy, might hate him even in a leaf...

(Nonnus, Dionysiaca, Book 3. trans Rouse)

And the point here is just that - Apollo, at least as far as I've read, cannot avert someone's death. He simply can't. Once they're already dead - once Fate has cut their string - all Apollo's power is gone and he can do nothing no matter how much he wants to. And this is, as far as I know, supported with the accounts of Asclepius as well!

Since you specifically brought up Ovid's account, I'll also stick only to Ovid's account but in Metamorphoses when we get Ovid's version of Coronis' demise, he writes that Apollo intensely and immediately regrets slaughtering Coronis. He regrets it so intensely that he, like he does with Hyacinthus, does his best to resuscitate her:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo's regret)

And like Hyacinthus, when it becomes clear that what has happened cannot be undone, Apollo wails:

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo wept.)

Unlike his mother, Asclepius in her womb had not yet died and so, with the last of Apollo's strength, he does manage, at least, to save him.

(Ovid, Metamorphoses Book Two. Apollo puts the 'tearing out' in Asclepius.)

But it goes further than even that because Ocyrhoe, Chiron's daughter, a prophetess who unduly gained the ability to directly proclaim the secrets of the Fates, upon seeing the baby Asclepius, immediately prophesies his glory, his inevitable death and then his fated ascension:

(Ovid. Metamorphoses, Book Two. Ocyrhoe's prophecy. trans Johnston)

Before she too succumbs to her hubris and is transformed by the Fates into a horse so she can no longer speak secrets that aren't hers to share.

These things ultimately are important because it establishes two very important things: 1) Apollo can't do anything in the face of the ultimate Fate of mortals, which is, of course, death and 2) even when Apollo is Actively Devastated, regretful, yearning, mournful, guilty or some unholy combination of all of the above, when someone is dead, he accepts that they are gone. Even if he is devastated by it, even if he'll cry all the rest of his days about it - if they're dead? Apollo lets them go. In Fasti, when Zeus brings Asclepius back, he does not say Apollo asked him to - Zeus, or well, in this case Jove, brings Asclepius back because he wants Apollo to stop being mad at him.

(Ovid, Fasti VI. Apollo please come home your father misses you. trans. A.S Kline)

Even Boyle's translation which you used above in your findings hints that Zeus made Asclepius a god because he wanted Apollo to stop grieving. (i.e 'smile at your father', 'for your sake [he] undoes his prohibitions')

And like, Apollo was deeply upset by Asclepius' death - apart from killing the Cyclops in anger, in book 4 of the Argonautica, Apollonius writes that the Celts believe the stream of Eridanus to be the tears Apollo shed over the death of Asclepius when he left for Hyperborea after being chastised by Zeus for killing his Cyclops:

But the Celts have attached this story to them, that these are the tears of Leto's son, Apollo, that are borne along by the eddies, the countless tears that he shed aforetime when he came to the sacred race of the Hyperboreans and left shining heaven at the chiding of his father, being in wrath concerning his son whom divine Coronis bare in bright Lacereia at the mouth of Amyrus.

It all paints a very clear picture to me. Apollo did not ask for either of them to be brought back. Though bringing them back certainly pleased and delighted him, they are actions of other gods who are moved by Apollo's grief and mourning and seek to mollify him. Him not asking doesn't mean he didn't want them back which I think is a very important distinction by the by, but it simply means that Apollo knows the natural order of things and, even if it hurts, he isn't going to press his luck about it.

Which, of course, brings us to Admetus. And I'm really not going to overcomplicate this, Admetus is different because, very vitally, Admetus is not dead. Apollo can't do a thing once Fate has been carried out and Death has claimed a mortal but you know what he absolutely can do? Bargain like hell with the Fates before that point of inevitability. And that's what he does, ultimately for Admetus and Alcestis. He sought to prolong Admetus' life, not revive him from death or absolve him from death altogether and even after getting the Fates drunk, he's still only able to organise a sacrifice - a life for a life - something completely contingent on whether some other mortal would be willing to die in Admetus' place and not at all controllable by Apollo's own power.

All of these things, I think come back to that point you made - that Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore these people are very special to him if it means he's willing to go against that order but, I also wish to challenge that opinion if you'd let me. Apollo's place as a god of order is very important and therefore, I would argue, that it is even more important that it is shown that he does not break the divine order, especially for the people that mean the most to him. The original context of my comments which started this conversation were on this lovely, lovely post by @hyacinthusmemorial which contemplated upon Asclepius from the perspective of an Emergency Medical personnel and included, in their tags, the very poignant lines "there's something about Apollo letting go when Asclepius couldn't that eats my heart away" and "you do what you can, you do your best, but you don't ever reach too far" and I think that's perfectly embodied with the Apollo-Asclepius dichotomy. Apollo grieves. He wails, he cries, he does his best each and every time to save that which is precious to him but he does not curse their nature, he does not resent that they are human and ultimately, he accepts that that which is mortal must inevitably die. There is nothing that so saliently proves that those who uphold rules are also their most staunch followers - if Apollo wants to delight in his place as Fate's mouthpiece, he cannot undo Fate. And, if even the god of healing and order himself cannot undo death, what right does Asclepius, mortal as he is, talented as he is, have to disrespect it?

The beauty of these stories isn't that Apollo loved them enough to bring them back. The beauty is that Apollo loved them enough to let them go.

[meli-meliai]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(saner comments in tags)

Someone draw this but w/Seth

(PLEASE I WILL LOVE YOU FOR ETERNITY)

[starseungs]

a dream and a dance. hjs.

han jisung x gn!reader — dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid. but maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

genre/s — fluff, pinch of angst, post-grad au(?) • 2.0k words

warning/s — alcohol, setting is in a nightclub, life is hard (idk how to explain this)

note — inspired by han's new skz-record: 1,2,3,4,5 ! also i know nothing about nightclubs but this was the theme that came to mind so im just basing off vibes 😭

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Dream while you’re still young—while you still can.

Growing up, that line had always been an integral part of your life. You still remember the first time you heard it; the soft hushes of your beloved grandmother as she handed you a bowl of freshly cut fruit on a particularly hot day. The six-year-old you once were was staring at the person behind the television, starry-eyed, as you studied the figure’s actions with intent. You could faintly recall a question being asked in that hushed living room, something along the lines of whether or not you found what they were doing interesting. It was a hazy memory for detailed descriptions, but you could imagine your younger self positively replying with an excited squeal, one fit for a child of that age, which would’ve been followed by the line that you’d have kept in your heart for the rest of your life.

As one would, you’ve cycled through your fair share of these so-called dreams in the duration of your early lifetime. There was a time in third grade where you made up your mind to become a science teacher—the thought quickly being replaced just a mere two years later when you found a sudden interest in becoming a chef. Sixth grade you talked big for their age, claiming that they would open their own restaurant after graduating culinary school, despite not knowing a single thing about cooking other than all the hours spent bingeing MasterChef. You would always get a laugh out of the memory, knowing that it, too, was but a short-lived dream of a young mind still easily impressed by the world around them.

The pattern of switching life aspirations continued past elementary, and throughout your hectic high school years. With the constant new experiences you faced day to day, it was inevitable that eventually you would start seeing everything in a different light. It was part of the maturing process, you’d come to realize a few years later—getting hit by the epiphany that you no longer went through your 24-hour cycle the same way you did back when you were ten. It was a bittersweet revelation, one that ended with you looking up old shows you used to watch and playing episodes until the sunrise before forcing yourself out of bed to get ready for class. 

That wasn’t the first time you pulled an all-nighter, but it was the first one that made you feel calm throughout the day despite severely lacking sleep. 

College came around, and now you had to face yet another hurdle in your journey: admitting that you had absolutely no idea what you were doing anymore. You were attending university—check. You were in a program you personally chose—check. You had a decent social life—check; or maybe half a point, since you didn’t exactly have much time to hang out with any of them, instead opting for promises of catching up that were slowly building in number but barely decreasing. Before you knew it, the degree life was slowly eating all of the dreams that were left inside of you, leaving you with a semi-paved path completely devoid of color. What was once a garden littered with numerous flowers of the rainbow now had wilted into dehydrated brownish hues, layed lifelessly beside the narrow road.

Perhaps your grandmother was right. Dreaming was a lot harder as an adult than it was back when you were but a small kid.

Still, you pushed through, just to see the end. There was no use turning back when you had already crawled your way up this high. All that was left for you if you did was a fall so hard that you doubt you’d even be able to recover. The image alone made you shiver, prompting you to lift the glass of liquor towards your mouth, letting the sip travel down your throat and feeling the faux warmth it provided. Your eyes shifted to the clock propped up against the bar counter’s wall, watching the hands tick at a uniform pace. It was weird knowing that time always stayed steady. These days, it seemed all over the place—sometimes slowing, sometimes speeding. At this particular moment, it was like a flowing stream. 

What kind of pace it was, you weren’t too sure. 

What you did know, though, was that the numbers on the clock were barely visible; bright neon LED lights being the only thing illuminating the dark room they called a nightclub. The speakers were blasting some upbeat pop song, entertaining the crowd trying to lose themselves on the dance floor. You could only watch from your bar stool as a girl trips over thin air, obviously a little too inebriated, before getting caught by her friend, who was now fussing over her drunken state. 

Burning liquid passed your tongue as you took another sip of your drink. Unlike that girl, you went to this place alone and on your own accord. In your mind, you contemplated why you chose to be here instead of a peaceful bar that didn’t involve a DJ and a dancefloor—but this works too. Maybe a part of you wanted to experience the thrill one last time before adult life completely takes a toll on you, so who were you to deprive yourself of the wish? Your university days had already ended just a few hours ago, with you stepping on stage to get your diploma. It wasn’t a crime to let yourself have fun after all the sacrifices you made for the sake of your damned future. 

And so you continued to watch—getting lost in the sea of bright lights and the crashing waves of your thoughts, before a familiar voice snapped you out of the trance you put yourself in.

“What are you doing here, looking all miserable like that?”

You blinked owlishly at the face that entered your line of sight. A face that was very recognizable to you, despite the undoubtedly long time you’ve gone without seeing it.

“Han Jisung?”

“The one and only,” Jisung grins. 

“Wow,” you breathed out, completely taken aback at the situation. “I haven’t seen you since our first year of uni! How have you been?”

You and Jisung used to be in the same major before he dropped out right before the start of your second year to pursue music. It would be an absolute lie if you said you didn’t miss him, especially since he was the first friend you ever made in university. You could still recall the moment he approached you in a class like it was yesterday—the Jisung of four years ago scrambling to take a seat after barely just beating the professor entering through the front door. The image of the freshly turned nineteen-year-old panting desperately evoked your concern, causing you to stare at him a little longer than necessary. But it wouldn’t be Jisung if he wasn’t observant, so he returned the stare without an ounce of shame and followed with a question if you had any spare water he could drink.

Luckily, your water bottle had just been filled a few minutes before class started, and thus a beautiful friendship was born.

Jisung took his hands out of his pockets before taking a seat at the empty bar stool to your right. “Life’s been great! Two semesters were enough for me to realize that the academic life just wasn’t for me,” he chuckles. “Oh, and congrats on graduating, by the way!”

You couldn’t help the small smile that found its way to your face at his greeting. “You knew?”

“Ah,” Jisung exclaims, leaning forward to rest his arms on the long table in front while still making eye contact to cement his presence in the conversation. “I attended the ceremony earlier, actually. You know—for Hyunjin and Seungmin. I also watched you stand on stage. That’s why I’m genuinely surprised to see you here like this.”

He looks around for a bit before returning to face you. “Where are your friends?”

You shrugged carelessly, not too bothered with the implication. “Not a clue,” you say with a light chuckle. “Probably out celebrating with their families—or maybe even with each other. Either way, I didn’t get an invite, but I already expected that.”

Jisung simply nods at your reply, and his lack of a reaction amused you more than it should. “And you? Out with Thing 1 and Thing 2?”

“Damn, they still call Seungmin and Hyunjin that? My legacy stood strong, huh?” Jisung barked out a hearty laugh before gesturing somewhere to the side of the club. “But yeah, our group’s over there in one of the sofa cubicles. You can join us if you want; it’s your day too, after all. We should be celebrating!”

You waved his offer away politely. “It’s fine, Jisung. I’m sure they wouldn’t want me crashing in. We’re not even close enough to do that.”

Jisung paused to think for a moment, his hand rising up to support his chin. Your eyes guiltily wander a bit higher, stopping at his rosy lips for a brief second before quickly going back to glare at your glass of liquor. 

Admittedly, you once had a crush on the man beside you. Han Jisung was one of the more attractive individuals on campus back then, along with the rest of his friend group. The lingering gazes of people weren’t foreign to you, as you had your fair share of experiences with them when you used to hang out with him. Jisung was simply someone who caught others’ attention, whether it was intentional or not. Of course, you weren’t exempt from that notion. The only difference was that he was a good friend you didn't want to risk losing and that you weren’t interested in dating at that moment. Romance was another dream of yours you couldn’t reach, no matter how much you yearned for it. And so you buried your feelings in a grave, eventually getting forgotten once he left your life.

You could only hope that a zombie apocalypse doesn’t start soon.

“Hm, alright,” he eventually chimes. “I’ll leave you be, soon. But, on one condition.” It was your turn to ponder over his words. 

“And what’s your condition, Han?”

Jisung attempts to hide the way he fidgets with his fingers, which you painfully caught on to too fast for your liking. He took a few more seconds to collect himself before sitting up straight and turning towards you to shyly say, “Dance with me?”

Your eyes widened into saucers, not believing what you had just heard. It was in an attempt to calm your racing heart that you accidentally froze into silence, your brain already deciding to keep 911 on standby in case you stopped breathing altogether. You internally cursed yourself for feeling a faint hope spark back in your heart, wishing for the romance you never let yourself indulge in. This wasn’t the time, nor was it the place, that you thought was appropriate to rekindle your teenage wishes. 

Unfortunately, your lack of a response made Jisung inhale audibly, seemingly preparing himself to bolt away in embarrassment—if only you hadn’t noticed his actions too, the year of friendship coming back to you to recognize his habit. You quickly willed yourself to spit out any words you could.

"Well, that’s sudden,” you shakily voiced out, but decided to lighten the awkward situation with a cough. “What, think I’m hot now after gaining a few more years?”

Jisung exhaled in relief. “Not exactly,” he rubs the back of his neck, “you were already hot from the beginning.” You roll your eyes at his answer.

“Haha. You think you’re so hilarious, Jisung.”

“That, I do,” he smirks, regaining his confidence. Jisung lifts a hand towards you, opening his palm in an offering gesture. “So, what about that dance?”

You scoffed good-naturedly before taking his hand, pulling him up his seat to drag the two of you towards the center of the establishment that was still as chaotic as you left it earlier.

“Make sure you show me a good time, Jisung.”

“Oh, you won’t be disappointed, Y/N.”

Maybe—just maybe, you could indulge in this dream come true for once.

mastertag 🔖— send in an ask if you want to be added ! 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix

[nectardaddy]

aftermath - higuruma hiromi

cw: blood, death, homicide, manga spoilers (I mean, if you know who tf he is you're fine tbh), language

notes: established relationship, gender neutral, inspired by if I killed someone for you by alec benjamin (was gonna put the song in but I refuse to put the gigantic eyesore that tumblr auto gives me and idk how to fix it)

synopsis: how should one react when their lover shows up on their doorstep covered in blood?

part two

You didn't mean for your breath to hitch in your throat so violently, creating an audible gasp from the air that lodged itself. Your fingers gripping the edge of your opened door with a grasp so desperate your hand already began to ache. Nails digging into the hard wood as you tried to decipher the pressing image before you.

"Hiromi-" you choked out. Voice wavering as his presence alone was enough to make your knees buckle. Dark, unwavering eyes boring into you. Seemingly nothing within them but a glimmer of something primal, macabre, and- desperate. You weren't a stranger to the unyielding looks, always transfixed on something well beyond his reach, but this was different. A look of a monster, and his attire following suit.

He was usually a well dressed, dapper man. But as he stood upon your doorstep, your opinion flipped instantaneously. A ruffled, crumbled suit jacket littered with dark blotches around the cuff, his white shirt underneath being the tell tale sign of what the mysterious blots were. A stark contrast, red on white, staining the previously ironed shirt right down to the threads. Cheeks splattered with the same red, a large spill just under his eye, like he had tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe his face. "What have you done?" You whispered, speaking softly as if it would untangle you from seeing him so heinous.

"Can I come in?" A gruff, almost uncaring, voice in comparison to your own. You didn't know why you hurriedly nodded, why you shifted out of the way for him to enter your home, why you thought letting this man back into your home was a good idea. It was against your better judgment, but you wracked your brain about the thought of 'there has to be a good reason.' This was the man you loved after all, not a cold hearted killer, or so you came to believe.

Hearing the door click shut and the lock engage, his eyes scanned his surroundings before returning to you. Tired eyes once again looking into you, almost trying to see through you with the intensity of it. "I killed them," he said bluntly, without regard and without further context. His words made your shoulders slump, your body creating shivers as his words hit you so profoundly.

"Who?" Was all you managed to ask, the word escaping your lips so quietly you hoped he would be able to hear it at all. Not asking why, not asking where or when. Who.

"The retrial was today," he said simply. It was all you needed, an impactful statement to which your eyes widened and your mouth opened. Quickly shutting it as no words were found on the tip of your tongue, your throat suddenly dry at the revelation, you could only stare. Looking over him to find any sort of answer, your eyes stopping at the collar of his suit jacket. There once was a small sunflower pin on the lapel, one you had gifted him years ago to replace the former. It was gone. It came off. Could the man you love really be so violent? So much so his beloved pin was ripped from him in the heat of the moment?

You couldn't say what had possessed you to step closer to the man, your lover, the murderer. Each step becoming easier as you neared him, stopping just before him and looking up. So close you could smell the gruesome, irony twinge mingling with the scent of his cologne. It made you nauseous, wanting nothing more than to spill your guts right then and there. But you swallowed hard and forced yourself to look upon the man who had sworn he'd love you to the end of his days. "Are you alright?"

A man of his situation might have said no, should have said no. "I've never felt better," he answered honestly. Looking down at you with a ghost of a smile, a mind fraying image now engraved in your psyche. Your fingers reached for his shoulders, letting out a shaky breath as your hands came in contact with him. It was damp.

"Oh my god," you spoke, forcing yourself to close your eyes at the sensation. You feared to lift your hands to what you would see on your palms, subconsciously pushing down the thoughts to the deepest part of your mind. "Oh my fucking god," you repeated, unable to form a single coherent thought as you couldn't stop yourself from circling back to the feeling.

But the hand, drenched in the same crimson, that gently touched your cheek made your eyes snap open and you inhaled sharply. There was blood on his hands, staining his fingers in sin so much so it was under his nails. That blood was now on you, ripping your stomach right out of your body as you wanted to heave. Desperately searching his features for any sort of answer, but only coming to the same conclusion.

The man you loved killed two people - and liked it.

oh I'm definitely making a part 2 are you kidding??? I wrote this shit in an hour that's a new fucking record for me

[mintaikk]

Watching Hazbin Hotel made me realize: we need more shows with tumblr OC energy.

Like, we litterally have a murderous demon who enjoys the sounds of screaming and suffering, but also, "He's a mama's boy and he likes jambalaya!" Where's that energy for other shows, hm? I need this. I love OC creators sm and I need them to make cringe OCs and make comics or shows with them bcuz we get stuff like this and it's awesome.

[musingsofasidechracter]

Image from Pinterest!

*Author’s Note! Please forgive any format issues, this is my first tumblr post literally ever! I decided that if I’m going to scour this site for all the things I love to read, I could contribute as well! Please enjoy the mess inside my head!*

Pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader

Content Warning: Fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, like two swear words, reader is insecure but the boys make it better!

Missing Piece 🧩

Selfish… That’s the only thing to call this feeling. Because how else does someone describe a feeling of longing when every dream you’ve had for yourself has come true. You were surrounded with love, on every side. Quite literally.

On your left was the calm to every storm life has thrown your way. Your peace, and the only thing you need after anything brings you even slightly down. Your Remus. Your head on his shoulder, one of his hands playing with yours in his lap, attention more or less on the book he was holding. You could feel a chuckle rumble through his chest every now and again, a clear sign he was enjoying the story that Sirius had picked for him.

Oh, Sirius… The man who makes you brave. Who has fought for everything this life has tried to take from him, and who has come out the other side stronger than ever. He makes you feel beautiful and seen. With a lazy smile, or a mischievous glint in his eye, or a rarely serious set of his jaw, he always knows exactly what you need in every moment. Like now, while you show no outward sign of distress, he somehow knows you need a gentle hand in your hair, calmly running his nails over your scalp, in a way he knows brings you immense comfort. He was doing it almost unconsciously, while talking with James about one thing or another.

And James… sunshine incarnate. Always with a smile on his face, his mouth built with a natural upturn. A wicked sense of humor and love to spare. He was so free with the love he gives. Never an hour going by without the words falling from his lips. Like if he didn’t say it enough, his essence would cease to exist. Love shining in his eyes for just about everyone he speaks to. Warmth radiating from him always, like the sun itself. The center of the group you’ve created with these men, pulling you all together. Even now, sitting on the floor in front of the three of you, you notice how your bodies all face him, without a single one of you meaning to do it.

With you in the middle, most people would feel like absolutely nothing could be better… so why, why did you feel so out of place. From the moment you met these three, they have made it clear they wanted you. From that first night out, in a random pub in London…

It was your first true night in your brand new home. You’d moved to London a full week ago, but that was filled with moving boxes, and paperwork, and trying to find the best place to buy all the necessities for your apar….flat… they call it a flat here. Today you opened the last of the boxes that had littered your home, and you felt that was reason enough to celebrate. You called the one person you know on this continent, your cousin, Catherine. She had convinced you to move like she had a year before, and she picked a pub close to you, The Black Dog. You should have known better though, ever the social butterfly, it wasn’t long before Catherine was pulled away by some man hoping to take her home, and you were left at the bar alone. You wouldn’t call yourself an introvert by any means, but a brand new city can be overwhelming enough, and you were content to take it all in rather than dive headfirst into the scene around you.

You ordered your drink, something strong and fruity and moments later it was delivered. It was somewhere between pink and red, in a tall glass, with oranges on the side and cherries sitting on top. You took your first sip, and let out a small noise of appreciation. It was a bit loud in the pub, so you were surprised when the man beside you noticed the sound you made. He turned toward you, smile beaming in a way that almost hurt to look at. You noted then, that this man was like the sun…little did you know how right you were.

”That good, love?” A chuckle fell off of his lips with his words, and you couldn’t help the smile spreading on your face. Maybe it was the shots Catherine had convinced you to take before you left for your evening, or maybe it was the smile that was infectious on his face, or maybe it was the confidence you’d decided you had now that you were brave enough to move across the pond, but something inside you made you respond, “Wanna find out for yourself?”

You held out the drink for him to try. The man’s smile (somehow) widened, and his eyebrows shot overtop of the round glasses on his face. He leaned forward, just in your space, and took a sip from your straw. You noted the curly hair then, that sat messily on top of his head and the fact that whoever was sipping from your drink was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. He made a noise similar to the one you had made moments ago and a laugh tumbled out of the both of you. “Seems like it’s that good indeed!” You laugh again at his little joke, sticking your hand out for him and told him your name. “James!” he said in return, but rather than take your hand for a shake, he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his side for a hug. Warmth spread across your body, and for the first time since your plane landed you felt like your were truly home.

He pulled you across the crowded room, arm still around your shoulders as he lead you to a couch with two other men. The curly haired man at your side introduced you to Sirius, the long haired one with a cocky smirk on his face, whose arm was around the other man, who you were told was Remus.

“Like the werewolf story?” He seemed to pale at that, and had you had a bit less liquor in your system you would have noticed. “Like the story of Remus and Romulus! Well, I suppose it isn’t a true werewolf story, the babies were just raised by wolves…at least I think that’s how the story goes, and then they go on to found Rome, so your name is in good company” His shoulders relax at that, and later you would find out just why those words made him antsy around you at first. He chuckled, and stood to shake your hand. Sirius looked to James, a bemused expression on his face, “Where did you find this little dollie, Prongs?” Remus leans into James before he can reply and said just loud enough for the four of you to hear, “I don’t care where you found her, but I kinda want to keep her.” The boys chuckled at the blush that littered your cheeks, and your night went on filled with these three ridiculously attractive men, that you took no time at all to fall in love with.

You often remember that night. How deeply you fell for each of the three men you had met. Months later, as your friendship grew, and you were made aware that the three were all involved in a romantic relationship, they all came to you to express their love for you as well. They asked you to join their relationship and the rest, as they say, was history.

After a year of being together they shared with your their little secret of magic, stunning you into amazed silence as they used it to make your anniversary the most special thing. Later that night, as you sat in bed with them, basking in the glow of your night together, Remus was in tears as he shared with you his “furry little problem” as the boys would refer to it. You joked that you were in too deep at that point, so even if you had wanted to walk away (you hadn’t considered it for a second) you wouldn’t have been able to leave them. A week later they had asked you to move in with them. James and Sirius both came from money, lots of it you had gathered, and so the home they all shared was more than big enough. Catherine had joked with you that you had scored bigger than she ever could as she helped you to get settled into your new life with the men you loved so much.

Here you were a month later, and selfish was the only thing you felt that you could put into words. Because even though you were the happiest you had ever been, with three men to love you and a life that was more perfect than you could have imagined for yourself, you felt…wrong. Maybe this was just the honeymoon phase wearing off, but you couldn’t help but notice the cracks you felt forming around you. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt…other. Separate. You knew you were solidly a part of the group around you, but you felt still somehow on the outside. Like the last book in a series, written decades after the original trilogy. You hated feeling this way, and you hated more that you didn’t know how to fix it. You were on your own in your head with it though, wholly unwilling to bring it up to your lovers, afraid to point out what they seemed oblivious to. What if, once you pointed it out, they wouldn’t be able to ignore it any further. They’d realize how out of place you were with them, and it would be the beginning of the end for you and them.

“Dove, would you care to tell me why you’re crying?” Remus whispered in your ear. You hadn’t even noticed the tears falling from your eyes. “I know Pads and Prongs are droning on about nothing, but that’s no reason to be upset.”

Sirius and James looked up at this, hearing their names more than what else Remus had said. A slightly offended, “Hey” fell from James’s mouth before he caught onto the tear tracks coming down your face. He moved to his knees just in front of you and took your hands in his. Sirius straightened up and turned his whole body towards you, his full attention on you now, the hand that was just scratching your scalp now resting on the small of your back. Three sets of eyes looked at your face, while you were unable to meet any one of them.

“Doll, what the hell is going on?” Sirius’s tone was firm, edging on panic. Of the three of them, he was the most sensitive to negative emotions (thank you very much Walburga Black), and the curse fell from his lips, not out of anger, but agony at seeing one of his lovers anything less than happy. “You’ve been off for a few days, is it all coming out now?” Being that emotionally intelligent was the work of James and Remus over their many years together. While Sirius hated seeing a negative emotion, he was often the one to realize the root of it.

“I…” you didn’t know what to say to these men you loved so much, and instead of words, sobs ran out of your mouth without ever being told they could. The three all but suffocated you with their love. Remus pulled you to his lap and moved to the middle of the couch, making room for James to join you off the floor. Two more sets of arms wrapped around your body, and words you couldn’t quite make out surrounded you. Sweet nothings and words of encouragement, you were sure. Not an ounce of judgement could be felt in the room, and for that thought alone you cried for longer.

Once you were settled down, finally pulling your face out of the crook of Remus’s neck where you had found strength and comfort, you were finally able to meet their eyes. “I’m so sorry…”

“Nothing to apologize for, love…” A hint of a smile hit your lips at the nickname for you that James had never quite dropped since first meeting you. “We’re just worried for you, but that’s no reason to say you’re sorry. Should… should WE be apologizing…?” That brought more tears to your eyes, though you were able to let them fall quietly this time. You hated that James jumped to something they might have done wrong, as if they could ever be less than perfect to you.

“No! Never, my love. You’ve all been so amazing to me, always…from that very first night. It’s just…” You couldn’t help but notice the way their shoulders relaxed at that, though their attention never wavered off of you. You knew then that you had to come clean. You couldn’t be the reason they felt they were anything less than perfect.

“You’re all so perfect for each other… and then there’s just me. I mean, you’ve all had years together, and you have so much history. Like all the way back to high school, history. And before that! You’ve known each other since you were eleven, and you’ve BEEN together since, what seventeen or eighteen? That’s more than a decade of falling into a rhythm together and then I show up and just… I don’t know why you needed me. I know you love me, don’t get me wrong. It would be impossible not to feel the love you all have. But I just feel like… a piece of a puzzle that doesn’t quite fit…”

The three were uncharacteristically quiet. They didn’t know what to say to let you know how wrong you were. After a full minute looking at you, hurting to see you hurt, it was no surprise that Remus was the one to speak first.

“Dove, can you please… give us an example? I don’t think we quite understand what you mean.” You thought about it. You needed them to see that it wasn’t their fault, that it was you that was wrong. You tried to remove your emotion from it, to use what you thought was logic about the situation.

“Okay…an example… Last week, when that black envelope showed up at the window, and none of you blinked at the fact that an owl was delivering mail at night . James didn’t hesitate to take it and throw it in the fireplace, while Remus walked straight to you, Sirius and just hugged you for a while. I still barely know what that was about. I just sat there wondering why the mood shifted in the room, and the three of you fell into this routine that I didn’t even know needed to happen.

Or every month, when Remus needs some taking care of. I know I can’t go out with the three of you, but when you got back from that night a couple weeks ago from wherever it is that you need to go, you fell into a routine I didn’t know how to join into, again. Sirius grabbed the weird bottles from the cabinet I can’t reach, and James got the first aid kit that Remus always keeps stocked and you went into the big bathroom and took care of what needed to be done. And then you all fell into bed together, and even when you pulled me into you, James, I felt like I had no right be there, and interrupt the way you were taking care of each other.

Or even when we all sleep together in that giant bed… You three had a way of crawling into bed and moulding yourselves around each other, and before it was a fun sleepover, but now that I live here, I’m just interrupting that every night. We have to think about who is next to who and who’s turn it is to be next to who and its just… I’m the difference. I’m the one who disrupts all those routines and the one who doesn’t get the inside jokes and the one who needs to be told how magic works… and I just…” Three sets of eyes met each other and, as if to prove your point, had a silent conversation without you.

“That’s just what I mean!” You stood up, unable to be in between them, cutting them off from each other for a second longer. Your hands dragged through your hair, and down your face as you tried to keep yourself calm while already missing the warmth of the three of them. “You all just had a full conversation and didn’t have to say a single word. I can’t do that with you at all, but you shouldn’t have to explain it to me after the fact…that’s not fair to you. I should just… get it.”

Sirius stood and took a step toward you. You wanted to step away, tell him to go back to the men on the couch, but if you were feeling selfish tonight, then you supposed you could be one more time before they decided you were right. He took your hand and pulled you into his chest, and his next words broke you.

“You’re right…” He felt your body tense, and heard the intake of air in your lungs and was quick to clarify his meaning. “Not about most of that, not about you not fitting, but about a couple of things. The lads and I do have history together. History that we can’t make go away, and no matter how much we might want to it’s history we can’t fit you into. We can’t help that my love… but that and your second right point go well together. We can have a conversation without words, but we’re always more than happy to pull you into that loop. And would you like to know what we were just thinking with one another?” You nodded your head from his chest and looked up at him. He turned to James, who had tears in his eyes at the sight before him, and came to take you into his own arms.

“Shortly after we graduated and we were in our very first flat together,” he said in between kisses to your hairline, “Remus all but had a panic attack. It was terribly tough to see him suffer through some kind of emotion Sirius and I couldn’t understand. He himself found it hard to put into words what he was so upset about. We got him calmed down and when he was finally able to put his feelings into words, the only word he could think of was incomplete.”

You looked to Remus, a question written all over your face and he stood and joined you. You were passed into his arms this time and he pulled you into the crook of his neck again. He started swaying to some music only he could hear, and he spoke low and calm, with some other emotion lacing his voice. “I just felt that we weren’t done yet… the three of us. I couldn’t explain it, and I felt like a right idiot for even thinking it. I was surround by two loves of my life, who gave me every bit of themselves, who I hoped to share every part of myself with, and I felt that, for some reason, part of my heart was still missing. But because, like you said, we’re all so in sync with each other, the moment I could say what was on my mind, they told me they’d been feeling it too.” Sirius wrapped his arm around the both of you, joining you in your sway. He spoke barely above a whisper.

“There is an area of magic called Divination, and witches and wizards hold varying degrees of belief in it, but it looks to the future. A GOOD Seer can tell you what hasn’t happened yet . So James here, decided to call one up. He needed to know if anything was meant to happen that could take this feeling from us away. He felt it too, but he couldn’t stand to see Remus so out of sorts over something we weren’t sure was meant for us. But he went and found something out, that he kept a secret for a long, long time.”

James himself spoke up at this, a cheery, prideful tone to his voice, “Hardest thing I had EVER done, keeping that from these two! But finally the time came for me to spill, on none other than the night I saw a pretty girl in a bar making the sweetest, happiest noises at a drink in her hand. The Seer confirmed that something was missing in our lives. That three was never enough for our group, and that the love we had to spare for each other, wasn’t spare love at all. It was meant for someone else. She described to me… so perfectly now actually. Hang on…”

He left for his office, a room you rarely go in for lack of understanding anything held there. Remus moved you back to the couch, but it was Sirius who claimed you for his lap. He whispered low in your ear, “You’re going to love this next part, dollie…” You smiled a him, a proper one this time. You had a feeling you knew what the rest of this story held but you waited to hear for yourself. James returned moments later and handed you a worn piece of paper. You could tell it had been folded and unfolded many times. He continued this story holding the paper in your hand until he was ready to let you open it.

“The Seer described, and even sketched for me, the thing that was missing from us. I didn’t understand it at all at the time, but all was clear to me that night we met. I felt so drawn to you, from that first little noise you made and the second I saw you, my breath was stolen. I had to drag you over to meet the others, I had to make sure they were as drawn to you as I was. And then that night, after we were home, with the most ridiculous happy tears flowing, I told them what I had done years before and I showed them what you have in your hand…” He let your hands go, and signaled you to open the folded paper. You looked to the three of them, making eye contact with each of them, and in their eyes you saw the same thing: love, admiration, and pure joy. When you looked to the picture in your hands a very different set of tears sprung from your eyes.

A white snake wrapped around a black crescent moon, with stars scattered around it. To anyone else this would have meant absolutely nothing, but to you it shifted the world on its axis. You had gotten this exact image tattooed just under the bend of your elbow during the last week in your home town. Catherine had convinced you to get it, while she had its sister marked on her own arm. A tattoo you had gotten on a whim, to commemorate the changes you hoped to come in your future. You breath caught, and you were unable to form words. It was Sirius who finished the story for you.

“After that night at the pub, we talked about you the whole way home. We all decided we were just taken with you. Your wit, your sense of humor, how wicked smart you are, how well you were able to take our shit and throw it right back at us. We all knew life wasn’t going to be the same any more, and we were all so excited for the change the winds were bringing. And when we heard what James had done and saw the picture of that tattoo we’d spent minuets discussing with you, everything clicked for us. We were half in love with you already, and that just confirmed that we were always meant to have you. So that… that is what you mean. You mean completion for us. Wholeness. We were never done, not until you breezed into our lives. You were the missing piece of us, and you fit so, so right. The rest of it will come with time. We’ll teach you how to help Moony when we get back from the full moon. I’ll explain all the black envelopes I can’t look at to you. We’ll make more inside jokes that anyone but the four of us would never have a prayer of understanding. The magic will become mundane for you one day too. And for heavens sake, the only reason there is a debate on whose turn it is to sleep next to who, is because we’re all so jealous when we’re the one who can’t be right next to you, and Remus says we aren’t allowed to just dog pile on top of you because we’ll ‘suffocate’ you.” You laughed at that, a real one this time.

You looked around at the boys, and noticed how well they had formed around you. For perhaps the first time, you saw it too, how well the four of you fit together. Sirius was right, with time you would have a rich history with them as well. One you would be able to look back on with joy and love in your heart. You met their eyes again, and leaned in to kiss each of them one at a time.

“Thank you for loving me so much. I could never have imagined myself with three different people to love, but now that I have it I couldn’t imagine loving anyone else, and I couldn’t imagine a single day without the three of you to make it better. Thank you for telling me that story. I needed it, my loves. I’m sorry I was feeling some type of way. I really can’t remember why now…”

“It’s okay, dollie, sometimes I cry just for the attention too,” Sirius said with a smirk.

[babiebom]

When You Fall (VIII)

A/N: i got the sweetest message from someone(idk if they’d want me to call them out) and somehow it made me want to start on this chapter so I guess it literally just takes someone being nice for me to actually do something lmao. Also happy new year!! Also also whenever I’m writing one of these chapters and the tumblr notif shows up it jumpscares me. Like how do y’all know?

Tw: depression, reader decides to force themself to be happy, cursing. The usual

Wc:3.0k

Previous Next Masterlist

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you attempted to clear some of the farm from debris. It was taking long to clear everything, and though you knew that most of the land would be unused until you actually got enough money to plant more things and get a coop or barn.

Shadow ran around wildly, barking happily as she snapped her teeth at the air. It’s funny, watching her as she runs. Getting pets didn’t make being in a depressive pit completely go away, but they did make that pit less dark, less daunting and lonely. Mango lazed around on the porch, his tail slowly waving side to side as he watched you.

Sticking your rake into the ground and wiping the sweat again, you grin at your animals, letting out a labored breath. “Okay, so, I love you both very very much. And I’m sorry that I can’t take you but they’re hosting an Egg Festival in the town and I’m going.”

You move to sit on the porch, Shadow dashing to crash onto your lap. You open your arms and let her move her big body onto you with a roll. “And I swear I’m not going to enjoy being away from you both, but I have to go as part of my healing. I’ll be back soon.” Neither one of them did anything other than stare at you and then go about their own business as you get up and head inside to shower. Shadow trails behind you after a moment, her tail wagging so hard her butt wiggles along with it. You take one last glance at her as you finally get in the shower, hoping the day goes by quickly.

Walking into the town’s square, it’s like a decorating bomb went off. There are banners and decorative flags and other things littered around in a way that made you think whoever decorated spent way too long out here only for them to be messed up by the wind. There’s so many layers of tape that you feel irritated for whoever had to fix it.

“Farmer!” Pierre calls out from behind his booth. You want to ignore him, not really ready for social interaction but go over to him anyways. Forcing a smile onto your lips you lean on the booth counter, looking at the things he has stocked.

Some strawberry seeds, lawn flamingos, plants, a painting, a bright pink banner, a plush bunny, and a….decorative pitchfork? What kind of stock is this? What does this have to do with the egg festival? You blink a couple times and attempt to control the look on your face, maybe you could buy a couple of strawberry seeds. Even if you don’t plant them this season you can always wait. “Hey Pierre! Selling some good stuff?”

He smiles and moves his hand around, gesturing to his stock. “Yeah, looking to buy anything?”

“Sure…a couple strawberry seed packets…and that plush bunny.”

“It’s pretty cute huh? Okay that’ll be 2,500g.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat. 2,500g? The man has to be insane! What the fuck costed so much that you were being charged this much? “Yeah, prices are a little steep. But I have to make a living somehow,” he chuckles when he sees your expression. You try hard to keep your face in check, not wanting to snap on the man in front of everyone. You were here to make progress, not to make enemies.

After giving him the money you take your new things and stuff them into your backpack. The letter said the festival ended at two, and looking at your watch it was only 9:30. That meant 4 and a half more hours of agony trying to force yourself out of a depressive pit that you aren’t really all too sure you’re ready to leave just yet for the sake of getting better.

Well, at least there’s food…

Hurrying along, the sight of the buffet table makes your mouth water. Not eating breakfast and working all morning in a large field without totally knowing what to do is a bad idea, but now that you’re looking at all the different types of food you can’t help but praise yourself for how lucky starving yourself got you. Now you can eat, then when you get home you can pass out and sleep until tomorrow. Like another rest day that feels like a reward after running around in the dirt.

As you fill your plate with food, you can see Gus and what’s his name…’Clive?’ You think to yourself, nose scrunching in confusion, ‘No, that's a stupid name. Carl? It has to be Carl…what other C names are there?’ In your thoughts you almost drop your plate and gain the attention of the two men, Gus smiles brightly and waves you over while the other man averts his eyes. Weird…

“Hey Gus!” You smile warmly at the older man. There was a twinge of stress in his eye, but it seemed rude to point that out to him. His eyes moved over the rows and rows of food and it occurs to you that he must have cooked almost everything himself being the Towns Saloon owner and all.

“Hey farmer! I was just telling Clint here…you’ve met Clint right?”

You shake your head at his question. You had only seen him around maybe once and heard his name in passing from the blue haired girl who was talking to him when you passed by and from Maru when you were in the clinic. Thank Yoba Gus said his name or you would’ve been stood awkwardly just like you are but more so because you wouldn’t have known his name. “Oh well, he’s the towns blacksmith…anyways I was just telling him how I hope everyone’s enjoying the food. I’ve been cooking for days to get the food ready.”

“Days? Wow thats a lot of work…”

“Yeah I made fried eggs, boiled eggs, poached eggs, deviled eggs, scrambled eggs, chocolate eggs, you name it!”

“I mean it is the Egg Festival…”

“Yeah, not to mention the other foods. I’d be upset if it turned out horribly.”

You take a bite of whatever was on your plate in front of him, trying to make a show of how good it is, but not really needing to act because WOW can this man cook. How’d he even make this? His eyes light up at your expressions and mannerisms, his shoulders relaxing at the sight of you enjoying the food. “No Gus, I swear this is amazing! You don’t need to worry about anyone not enjoying the food at all!”

“Thank you for the kind words, Farmer, it means a lot to me.”

You nod vigorously, not wanting to ignore him but now overcome with the urge to stuff down as much of the food as you can. What the fuck was in this? Drugs? You can’t even remember the last time you were this hungry.

With your plate you walk around, smiling at anyone who talks to you, and try to carry on conversations that you didn’t really care much about. It had been weeks since you moved here, and you were just now meeting everyone personally. There were so many people living here in Pelican Town that you wonder how you had managed to avoid 60 percent of them whenever you ventured out.

As you make your rounds to the buffet table for the second time, the sight of a bright red cape catches your eye and the man with the eyepatch flashes in your mind. You hadn’t seen him since that day, but you had to find out what those stupid jelly things are.

“Marlon!” You call out, rushing to the man in the corner. He looked surprised that you were speaking to him, but made no moves to walk away or ignore you. Instead he looked slightly pleased. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

His eyebrows quirk up in amusement, “I could say the same about you, don’t hear anything about you going around.”

You shrug and realize that just as much as you stick to your farm, he must stick to the caves and mountains. Neither bad, but awfully lonely when you think about it. You wonder if there’s anyone he lives with up there. “I just thought that you would prefer to be adventuring or something…like in the caves?”

“Yeah, but even with my bad leg I never miss a festival.”

“Oh…say you know down in the caves how there are…things right?”

“Yeah the monsters?”

“Yeah um, have you ever seen the little Jello creatures? They’re really tiny and all but are like really strong for some reason, and jump at you like they’re legless spiders?”

“The slimes? Yeah you have to be careful with them. They might be easy to defeat but can quickly overwhelm you if you’re not careful.”

He frowns at you and you swallow. That’s exactly what had happened. The stupid things were just too much the more you ventured down. But you’d be ready for them next time, and whatever else is down there. “Yeah, they kinda kicked my ass last time I went into the caves.”

He nods solemnly, as if he could relate. Maybe he could relate, having a bad leg and an injured eye and living up there. There had probably been times that he’s gotten overwhelmed and hurt. The thought sends a shiver down your spine. If he could get hurt down there, and you have already been hurt, who’s to say that you won’t just die the next time you go down? It’s weird to think just how lucky you truly were when you were saved.

Thinking of being saved…your eyes flit around quickly trying to spot the man that had saved your life. Maru and Sam had said that Sebastian had gone down into the caves himself to save you, and even though you hadn’t seen him personally since meeting in the Saloon, the need to thank him was always in the back of your mind. And now you have the chance, Yoba you wished you were home.

You bid goodbye to Marlon and shuffled your way to the trio standing off at the bottom of the town’s square. Rehearsing what you’re going to say in your head, you hope that it would be a quick conversation, that you wouldn’t stutter over your words and that you wouldn’t act so awkward that they think you’re weirder than you are. But as you clear your throat as you walk up to them, regret settles in your belly at the looks on their faces. It was like being in school all over again and the kids that you thought were cool were too tight knit as a group and hated outsiders.

Before you could say anything Abigail speaks first, staring straight at you. “Do you think I’m too old to do the Egg Hunt?”

You frown at her in confusion before shaking your head. “No?”

She punches Sebastian’s arm as soon as the word leaves your mouth. “Ha! I told you I wasn’t too old. It’s like, why stop if I’m having fun?”

“How are you having fun searching for eggs with actual children?”

“Hey! Searching for eggs is like going on a treasure hunt! Besides, your sister does it too!”

Sebastian rolls his eyes at her, looking towards the river without saying anything more, choosing to sip on the punch in his cup. Sam looks like he’s suffering and you tilt your head, silently questioning him. “Ugh…it’s my doze…allergies.” His nose is so stuffed up that his words seem heavy. You wince at him and nod in understanding, Springtime wasn’t the best for people with allergies.

Sebastian clears his throat after a minute. “You know what I miss? The rotten egg toss.”

Both Sam and Abigail agree quickly, words coming out both of their mouths too quickly for you to really understand anything they’re saying. They’re very enthusiastic about it, recounting things that happened in previous years. In your confusion you look over at Sebastian, and he swallows his drink quickly. “We used to do a rotten egg toss, a couple years ago. It was only for like two years, Mayor Lewis put an end to it pretty quickly.”

“Yeah, too many people complained that it stunk.” Abigail laughed. It sounded pretty fun, tossing rotten eggs at a target or something, but the smell…ugh.

Before you could say anything else, Sam says he’s going to get more food before the egg hunt starts and they put everything away. Abigail looks between you and Sebastian and smiles. “I’ll go with him, either of you want anything?”

You shake your head, plate still full from the second round. “Maybe some punch? If it’s not too much trouble?” She shrugs and looks at Sebastian who just hands her his cup. She leaves without another word and without turning back. Ha…now it’s awkward…

“I didn’t think you were one for socializing.”

You’re surprised at his words, but think that in a small town there are rarely secrets. Everyone must know that you’re suffering. “Yeah um, just had a bad couple of weeks. I’m better now, though, ready to mingle and become part of the town…being alone is no good.”

He snorts, glancing at you and your heart stutters in your chest. Did he think you were joking? Were you that obvious in your dislike of talking to others? “Yeah sure…been there once.”

You don’t ask him what he means, understanding that he’s seeing right through your fake chipper exterior. For a minute the silence stretches on, but it’s not as tense and awkward as it was before. Maybe it was a good thing he could tell you were faking, there was no need now that it was only you two. “Y’know I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“For?” He sounds disinterested, but when you look at his face he seems more…uncomfortable.

“You saving me? Your friends told me you went down into the caves to get me.”

“Fucking…yeah. It was no problem. You should be more careful, though, I was only able to help because I noticed that you didn’t come up.”

“Yeah…I really should…anyways. Thanks for saving me, hopefully you won’t have to do it again.”

He shrugs and says nothing.

“I owe you one.”

“Sure.”

The mayor claps his hands loudly, speaking into a megaphone that he’s holding. “If anyone is participating in the egg hunt, gather round. It’s almost time to begin!”

“You participating?” He asks, and for a second you almost say no before remembering that the whole point of coming was to become part of the community and bettering yourself.

“Yeah…you?”

“Nah…”

You nod and cough into your fist, unsure of how to separate yourself from him. “Well, I guess I’ll see you…later?”

“Yeah, sure. I’m either at home, or at Sam’s or the Saloon during the weekends…”

“Okay, cool.”

You walk away quickly, confused as to how you had somewhat made a friend of him? There was that saying that misery loves company…maybe he was the perfect person to be miserable with. He seemed like he had problems himself. Mayor Lewis claps a hand onto your shoulder a little harder than necessary, causing you to wince. “Enjoying yourself, Farmer?”

“Yeah…”

“That’s good! It’s about time you introduced yourself to the townspeople. Everyone was so excited to meet the new farmer in town and you just…disappeared. They thought you were a recluse or something!” He lets out a laugh that makes you frown. You had forgotten how much this guy could talk.

“Yeah well, family deaths will do that to you.” You keep your face straight as you stare at him. He coughs and sputters out some words before the conversation is effectively ended.

After another minute and a half the egg hunt begins and your heart starts thumping in your chest. The kids are already running off, and Abigail is darting around so quickly that you think that she’s going to knock one of them over. Looking at the other participants, the urge to beat them overcomes you. Winning at this means that you’re officially part of the community right? You’re putting yourself out there?

Your feet move without another thought from you and soon enough your basket is full with eggs. Looking at the others it seems theirs are too. You can hear Lewis counting down from ten and your heart races even more. How were you supposed to win this? You run across the square, hoping to get one last egg.

Five…

Where are the rest of the eggs? What the fuck is there no more?

Four…

In the corner of your eye something yellow gleams under the sun. An egg! Near the river!

Three…

You dash towards the egg, hand stretched out towards it.

Two…

A couple more steps to go, you’re unsure if you’ll get there in time.

One…

Your hand closes around the egg and into your basket it goes. Your heart thumps and your breaths come out uneven. But you made it! The last egg.

Lewis calls everyone back towards the center of town, eyes gleaming as he looks at everyone’s baskets. He seems happy to see more people participating in a dying tradition. There were only two kids in town so an egg hunt is bound to get boring as everyone gets older.

It takes five whole minutes for Lewis to count everyone’s eggs, yours being the last basketbhe gets his hands on. “Nine…ten…” Abigail groans in annoyance next to you. “Eleven! The winner is the Farmer! Come up and get your prize!”

Prize? If you knew there was going to be a prize you wouldn’t have tried so hard. Now someone was going to be mad at you for winning instead of them. You walk slowly to Lewis confused as to what he could be offering.

“Enjoy!”

He hands you a straw hat…well at least it’s helpful?

[fourraccoonsinacoat]

How the Dark Urge playthrough adds depth to the Astarion romance.

Hello, Tumblr! Welcome to my midnight dissertation on how the Durge romance scene adds a whole beautiful layer to the Astarion romance, because I can't stop thinking nonsense about a fictional character in a video game. Join me.

Also, spoilers ahead for the Dark Urge playthrough...obviously.

So, the Durge romance scene starts with your necrofabulous demon butler, Fel, showing up and saying some shit about your romanced companion.

I should also mention the timeline here, cause that's important. In my Durge playthrough, this scene triggered in the Mountain Pass. So we'd saved the Grove, went wilding in the Underdark, almost got roasted and toasted in Grymforge, couldn't fucking figure out how to get out of the Underdark (thanks for nothing, Halsin), so we go back up top and take the Mountain Pass. We then proceeded to completely miss the creche, stumble into Last Light Inn via being jumped by the Harpers, and save Isobel. (At this point in my playthrough, I knew I'd messed up because we hadn't found the creche, so I backtracked to the Mountain Pass.)

We had barely scratched the surface of the Shadowlands.

So, Fel is there talking shit. And if you're romancing Astarion he says: He is so afraid. So, so afraid. Of everyone, besides you, who he ought to fear most.

This shows that Astarion is already starting to feel ~feelings~ for your Durge, to his great discontent. You're something different, dare he even think it...special. Ew.

Again, this is before the majority of Shadowlands, before all the Thorm drama, way before Moonrise (at least in my playthrough) and That Bitch Araj.

Durge tells Fel to fuck off, and Fel says some more shit and Durge gets a dialog option that says: We are indomitable together. You underestimate us.

And I love that line because it shows Durge thinks of Astarion as an equal. Not something to fix, despite how broken the both of them are. But equal, and stronger because of it (insert some nonsense about two broken things being stronger together as one. It'll break your heart.)

Then, Fel responds to that dialog option with: You are wrong to consider another your equal. So, here is this child of a literal god - Bhaal - considering Astarion an equal. Yes, Durge doesn't know that yet, but I love the headcannon of the litteral child of a murder god looking at Astarion and going, yep I like you, let's go be chaotic and tragic together and maybe help eachother heal in the process.

So, Fel fucks off.

Durge wakes Astarion up and recounts what just happened and Astarion is Astarion about it, but then the Urge takes over and your Durge looses control. You wake up and are tied up by Astarion (but not like that) and he is obviously taking the situation more seriously after presumably seeing you pass out and lose it. Your Durge can pass a saving throw to resist the Urge and express that you understand what he's saying "Whatever this is. It won't win."

His response if you make the save is: "Easy now, darling. You've got this. And I've got you."

And don't tell me this dude doesn't care about Durge at this point, way before he admits it out loud once you get to Moonrise/speak with That Bitch Araj.

So, you get through the night and Astarion cuts you free once you're back in control and admonishes the Durge a bit and says they need to talk.

Astarion tells the Durge that they're not alone in this struggle and that he's there for them. He says "that's not who we are" when referring to the things they both did while under the control of an abusive authority figure. He says "we make our own choices, and you made the right one last night."

I love this whole scene because it really establishes the dynamic between Astarion and the Durge as a supportive one. A lot of Astarion’s romance involves the MC being in the role of the person providing support and reassurance, and I love that about the romance. I love that this masculine character is shown being vulnerable and that a part of his arc involves coming to terms with needing support (as a trauma survivor, myself, who had and still has a lot of toxic independence issues to deal with, I feel you.) But in this scene, we see a completely flipped dynamic that I think really adds a depth to the romance that can go missed if you don't do the Dark Urge playthrough.

Durge is the one in need of support and reassurance here, and Astarion provides it confidently and sincerely. He tells your Durge that they'll get through this, and that he will be there to "make sure" they do.

It's so ride or die, and I love it.

I could go on about all my headcannons in regards to how the Astarion and Durge romance progresses, but this nonsense has really gone on long enough. Apologies for the mindrot, I just adore well written characters.

My point is, go do a Dark Urge playthrough and romance Astarion!

[prncssie]

hiiii it's my birthday and I was wondering if I could get a birthday hobie x reader?

hi pumpkin! first off, happy late birthday i hope you had sooooo much fun. so sorry i couldn’t get this to you on your actually birthday. i wanted to, promise! i just had a lot to do but here you go <3 celebrating your birthday w hobie. i’m hoping this makes it through tumblr bc my last drabble about rengoku is not showing up on the dash but it’s on my acc if you’re interested — hoping this is what you wanted | mdni, black fem coded reader, unedited

birthdays came up early in your relationship with hobie, especially considering his came a few months before yours. you found out rather quickly that he’s not a big fan of making the day a holiday.

of course, he’ll smile and plant a sweet a kiss on your two-toned lips when you, eventually, pull a tiny, gift wrapped gift out hidden — somewhere new every time — and set it in his hands. you do it every time, even hen he says he doesn’t want a single thing, and it’s always a relatively cheap gift so he doesn’t make a fuss about it. last year, it was a little necklace set from hot topic, modeled after the coraline movie’s stone and key — only $7.95 and thankfully, on sale.

however, your birthdays are different.

they’re important to you and therefore, important to hobie. he cherishes them, staying away from your affection all day while he prepares his boathouse for your arrival. he’ll get balloons and candles for mood lighting, he’ll go to the grocery store and pocket a box of cake mix and whipped icing, he’ll use the sprinkles from the night before. hobie will even chop up fruit and melt chocolate to dip them in later, following the creamy pasta he’s cooked for dinner just in case you didn’t feel like indulging in something as sweet as cake, that night.

that’s not dessert though. the real dessert comes after cuddling on the couch and soaking in the praises that fall from your lips between kisses until your lips are swollen and sheened with saliva. every year, he takes your hand and leads you to his bedroom, where he forces you to close your eyes upon stepping through the door way. you can’t know where his hiding space is. you’re too curious and would end up investigating it in secret later on.

this year, hobie managed to get you the demonia camel-311’s. how he had gotten him through his unconventional methods is unknown to you but you don’t ask, too busy fawning over the smooth, vegan suede beneath your fingertips.

“oh my god, hobie. what the hell?” you say, seated on the end up his disheveled bed, eyes round in grateful astonishment.

hobie’s has always been . . . clean but not tidy. he knows where everything is and you understand that he has a system. the random stacks of albums littered around the room never bothered you, nor did single wall covered with painted doodles parallel to the bed you sit on.

“you like em’, bug?” he drawls, showcasing his prideful smile full of teeth as he watches you go through the motions to react to his grand gift. “i’m mates with this guy who sells em’. looks like something you’d like.” hobie doesn’t bring up the deal he made to do some manual labor instead of paying such a pretty penny for these shoes.

you head rise and falls in a little nod and you set the shoes on the floor, reaching inside to pull out the brown-gray stuffing paper to keep the molding of the shoes.

this persists for a while, your gushing and prattling over the platform boots, warm and perfect for the winter. it’s all a routine part of the night, something you’ve expected — not because you knew what gift he was going to get you, but because he always gets you material gift before and something a little more after.

the after is what you both know you’re really looking forward to, after all the events that slowly passed throughout the night.

“oh my god, hobie!” it’s the same words from earlier but this time, said so much differently. it’s whiney, airy, and provocative. you can’t help it, the sound forced out of your mouth with each snug smack of hobie’s heavy balls against the brown globes of your ass, part of which glisten with the watery cream of your past two orgasms.

hobie plucks your hand slotted against the soft outlines of his abdominal muscles on his stomach. he grins, strained, and rests your palm against his chubby lips. “you g - got it, pretty.” he mumbled into the warm skin of her hands, words muffled on their way to your ears, not that you’re paying attention anyway. “ ‘s your dick, yeah?”

anything he says just comes across as faint buzzing humming in your head. your legs have begun to shake and twitch, muscles stretched and pushed up to your ears. your cunt is on full display, in its brown and chubby glory, squeezing around the length of hobie’s cock with the intent to milk him dry.

your back has long begun to arch off the soft mattress with a balled hand repeatedly making soft contact with his shoulder. you’re struggling to withstand it, writhing beneath his hold. you’re sure you would have wiggled away and up the bed had he not had you anchored in his grip. you’re struggling but you love it, finding yourself delirious with the lust that comes with being fucked within an inch of your life.

“can’t,” you hiccup, tugging at your hand encapsulated by his. you want to draw it back and push him some more but he won’t let you, overpowering your strength with his own. tears form in the outer corners of your eyes and roll down the sides of your face.

you’re rewarded with a firm smack on the chub on your round butt, leaving a stinging sizzle that has you jolting with a gasp. another wave of waterworks comes forward in your eyes. you want to sob but the ability is ripped away when hobie digs his fingers into your mouth, as many as he can until no more can fit and drool is pooling out the corners.

“you’re, god, lyin’, pet. hate that,” he pauses, pressed entirely into your sopping wet cunt, eyeing you with disdain. his fingers press against your soft tongue, eliciting more drool to pull in your mouth. he tilts his head at the sight of you, twitching and eyes blown out.

he can still feel your pussy pulsing greedily, begging for more, and he chuckles, pulling his slob covered fingers out your mouth and taking ahold of your thighs again. “you always say that but you didn’t use your safe word so i know you’re lyin’.”

you sort of just warble, feet dangling in the air. your toes, painted a pretty pink gel polish, curl and straighten with each movement hobie makes, even if it’s just him leaning forward.

“gonna tell me i’m wrong?” hobie’s voice drops into a whisper. he’s close enough for his lips to skim across your cheek, breath warming the surface of your skin.

he’s pleased to see a small shake of your head. “no,” you’re telling him wordlessly, round eyes staring right into his more slanted ones. you’re lucky he’s considered being sweeter on such a day of celebration.

“no? then you’re gonna quit your whinnin’, right?” his hand comes to plant on the round crest of your head, flattening your scalp, frizzy due to the physical activity he’s put you through.

your leg goes to circle around his slim waist, locking his body to yours. “mhm . . . ‘m sorry, ‘bie.” you’re much softer now, more pliant without the constant push and pull inside your sensitive cunt. your circle your hands around his cheeks, brushing your thumb across the smooth, seal brown skin across his face.

the corners of his mouths lift; he finalizes your gentleness with a sloppy kiss on your mouth, wrapping his tongue around yours and sucking it into his mouth. there is stringy saliva connecting the two of you. his hand atop your head serves its purpose when hobie finally begins to move again, thrusting deep in your cunt. it keeps you right where he wants you despite your wriggling.

his other hand supports his weight, jumbling the sheets between his fingers. his head falls onto the bed beside yours and you have a front row seat to the groans and pants he exudes, lost in your body.

every year when your birthday comes around, hobie picks you up, bring you to his house, and showers you in love and affection throughout the night. he makes dinner, lights your birthday candles, and watches any movies of your choice.

every year, he surprises you with a gift he had planned for months and pulls it from his super secret hiding spot. he soaks in your flattery with a grin until you’re done and putting the new gift to use.

and every year, you both wrestle in the sheets, naked bodies connected at the most intimate parts as the air grows thick and heavy with lust. he kisses you through your whines and cries, forcing blinding white orgasms out your body until you’re exhausted and tapping out.

[elllisaaa]

i love your dom posts so much.. can i request one for lee minho? thank you <333

hii anonie ! I'm so sorry that it took me so much time to answer this, i was overwhelmed by uni and all the things i had to get done in my life but I'm getting back on tumblr ! i looove to do these dom posts so much i swear, hope you'll like it too, thank you for sending me your request <33

DOM!MINHO who is the biggest tease ever everytime you two get intimate, relishing in the way you whine is name when he doesn’t give you what you want.

minho loves to have you crying for him. the guys and your boyfriend himself are often making fun of you because of how sensitive and emotional you are. but behind closed doors, he's addicted to seeing your eyes well up with tears when he's fucking you so good, addicted to the way your voice is quivering because of your cute little sobs when you tell him that you're close.

"look at the mess you made kitten, you're so nasty."

and here we come to the degradation, because even if he loves you so much and will spend the rest of his life proving it to you, minho adores the way you become so eager to show him just how good you can be for him. everytime he calls you by these shameful names, eveytime he humiliates you by telling you that you're not even able to please him how he likes it, you're on your knees and ready to make all the efforts needed and prove him how wrong he is.

"you're such a slut, thinking about nothing but my cock all day right ?"

he always has a smirk on his face when you try to tease him back and resist him, not because he's going to cave in but because he finds your attempts at being a brat very amusing. because both of you know that with one slap against your ass, one ruined orgasm, minho will have you all pliant for him again. and he loves it when you're pleading for your release, when you're going on and on about how sorry you are, that you will never do it again (even if it's a lie), begging him to let you cum. all that is music to his ears.

"was it so funny to rile me up in front of my friends now ? was it so difficult to be a good girl and listen for once ?"

minho also loves to experiment things, and that's a conversation he had with you very early in your relationship because he wanted you to be as open as him about what you liked or wanted to try. every once in a while, he will brought the subject back and make sure to fulfill every need and kink you may want to explore. he likes it that as time went on, you started to confess your most secret fantasy.

"tell me more about it kitten, don't get shy on me now."

contrary to what everyone thinks, minho isn't very jealous. he knows that you're his, knows that he's the only one you want, knows that in the end, you're only giving yourself to him. but still, sometimes, he can't help the anger boiling inside of his veins when another man is too close to you. sometimes, he can't help but fuck you so rough you can't walk the next day. he can't help but litter your whole body with his marks and encourage you to do the same to him, claiming you as his, as well as he is yours.

"that's it baby, look at how beautiful this looks on you, uh ? i'm gonna make you mine."

[hxney-lemcn]

More Than Friends — Rhys (AFK Journey) x gn! reader

summary: what it's like to grow up as childhood friends with Rhys.

tw: mentions of pillagers, village being attacked, mentions of injury.

a/n: I pulled him and immediately fell for the himbo. also, tumblr is killing the image quality 😭

wc: 0.9k

Master List

❥You didn’t really have a choice in being friends with Rhys. He followed you around like a lost puppy much to your parents dismay. He was bad news, trouble always seeming to follow him. You didn’t really mind. Rhys would always show you his bird friends, trying to recite their names he gave them (he would tend to repeat the same name for multiple birds). 

❥You were the first person Rhys showed when he got his gun. He was too little to pick it up, but he dragged it over. At first you were apprehensive. I mean you had only been taught to fight with spears. Such machinery was a bit intimidating. But Rhys quickly reassured you that he’d protect you with his cool new toy…he almost shot a chicken coop getting the two of you in trouble.

❥When you both grew older, your bond grew as well. Rhys never failed to entertain you, and he’d always find himself laughing with you even if it was at his own expense. Even though he joined the Quicksand Claws, he always made time for you. Telling you tales of what glory he’d done earlier that day (when in reality someone else did it while he fed the bird mounts). 

❥Rhys wasn’t the brightest, so he never questioned why his heart speed up in your presence, why he wanted to be in your presence 24/7, why he felt bitter when others held your attention for a little too long. You were really his only friend, the other villagers steered clear of him. He couldn’t compare his relationship with you to anyone else since no one else compared. He loved it when you would compliment him, fuss over him, hell, even when you scolded him.

❥You found yourself endeared to Rhys. You weren’t sure when your care for the red haired man turned from friendly to more, but you found yourself caring for him regardless. He was sweet, albeit a bit brash, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. You found it cute when he’d come back with a gift (typically something he deemed cool enough for you), or a new tale of adventure. You found your mood lifting when his smile came into view. 

❥Everything changed the second your village was attacked. Spear in hand, you fought bravely against your adversaries, but they seemed to greatly outnumber your small village. Although maulers found themselves fighting until the bitter end, your village leader deemed it necessary for a retreat. As you tried to escape, you had found yourself in the center of the fight, unable to stop less your life would be taken.

❥You feared it would be the end of you, and although you didn’t want to die, you were glad you were able to help the children escape with the elders. Your stamina was waning, getting scathed more and more. You were at your wits end when Rhys swooped in, shooting in a circle around the two of you. He laughed maniacally as a few of the enemies dropped. Quickly, Rhys scooped you up onto his mount, continuing to shoot his gun at anyone who dared get in your way. And as you stared up at the man you grew up with, you found yourself admiring the way his scared lips lifted up as his chuckles died down. 

❥When you both met with the rest of the survivors, Rhys had made it his mission to take care of you. Cuts, bruises, and blood littered your body, exhaustion weighing down on your limbs. His carefree smile seemed a bit more strained, but he didn’t want you to feel worse than you already did. He tried to make the atmosphere more light hearted, not wanting his own dark thoughts to consume him. It scared him seeing you in such a state, seeing you fighting with your life on the line. He was grateful he managed to get to you in time, and he just had to keep reminding himself that you were okay. Still alive, still with him. 

❥Your relationship shifted after that day. You had grown closer, more affectionate. Rhys found his eyes always searching for you. Your village had been rebuilt, anything left in the rubble of your old village taken (though much wasn’t left from the pillagers). Rhys had stuck by your side, offering to carry you, or have you ride his mount around. It was quite endearing really. He fretted over every little thing, even as your bruises faded and the cuts healed. 

❥Your parents hadn’t been found yet, and the village was unsure of their status, so they had Rhys stay with you due to your wounds. You didn’t mind, you weren’t sure if you were ready to live on your own anyways. Rhys helped make the empty home feel just a bit warmer, even if you longed to see your parents once more.

❥It all led to one night as the two of you conversed over dinner. Your gaze warm as you fondly watched Rhys gestured erratically to emphasize a story of this bird he followed. The little giggles that slipped past his lips warmed your heart as he spoke so fondly of a bird he saw once. All the warmth and affection you gained throughout your years, and you couldn’t hold yourself back. Leaning over, you gently placed a quick kiss, causing Rhys to freeze, his gaze stuck on you.

❥Rhys’ grin widened, his cheeks tinted a light pink. Nothing needed to be said, you both had been the others for as long as you could remember. You were delighted as Rhys giggled, leaning over and reciprocating your previous action tenfold.