#this turned out sadder than i thought lol

[oochilka]

Humphrey and Sophie try to spice it up

[assortedsouls]

"Luofu's sky is pretty and I like that we do have day and night cycles, but yes, there's something special about seeing the real universe." It made him feel excited and insignificant at the same time, though mostly he just felt an admiration for its beauty. Perhaps a bit odd for someone his age, but the General had taught him to appreciate the beauty in the world. Okay, so maybe his feeling of wanting to go on an adventure was a tad stronger, but he is a fourteen year old Cloud Knight, who could blame him?

The praise made him smile, but also look a little awkward. "Thank you, Mr Yang, but I doubt that is true. You're a Nameless and you helped fighting Phantylia. Those things alone makes you an extraordinary man," Yanqing replied. Although he still had confidence in himself, the whole Stellarion Crisis and especially his personal failures then had impacted him. Had made him start doubting. Not just about his own abilities, but if the General truly thought he was good enough. Yes, he had since said he trusted him and that he did well, despite disobeying orders, but what if it wasn't really true? The nightmares he still has about the event doesn't help, not that he has ever mentioned that to anyone.

For a moment, Yanqing is quiet, looking a bit lost in thought before looking up at the older man. "Imbi- Mist- Dan Heng isn't upset with me?" He still doesn't know about his and the General's past, just that they share one. It's a little confusing, but he knows about the Vidyadhara rehatching cycle. One day, he might find out more what happened. He knows that Imbibitor Lunae did something unforgivable, but that is hard to connect to Dan Heng. He doesn't seem like the kind who'd do anything unforgivable. "My prowess is nothing compared to him or Blade. I still have much to learn." And then, maybe, the General will fully trust him and let him help properly. Let him help by taking some of the burden from him.

“I can imagine then. Artificial does tend to lose the charm of the real thing.” An appreciative little hum of thought as he listened to the young lad. It was endearing, really, though maybe a part of it made him ache for simpler times. Like the first time he had taken his son to look at the sky when he was old enough to walk on his own or experiencing young Joyce’s first interest in trying to figure out how rockets worked.  

What a time to be aware of just how much he was missing by letting himself get dragged to this place... 

“Your accolades are already quite impressive as well for just fourteen. You’ve already done quite more than me to be amazing in your own right.” Well, not exactly, but his own past wasn’t important. And—maybe he needed to come up with a reasonable lie about it if pressed. Learning the very mechanical makeup of Anti-Entropy's latest self-driving tanks and helping run media coverups weren’t exactly normal for 14-year-olds on Earth. 

“Plus, I heard all about your prowess—and no, no one's mad about it before you asked. There was nothing but words of praise, I promise you.” 

[coeurify]

LACY, OH LACY

ellie williams.

·˚ ༘ * “like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. you got the one thing that i want."

pairing: ellie williams x f!reader. summary: you’ve got the one thing ellie wants, and it’s rotting her thoughts of you. based on lacy by olivia rodrigo. warning: my first go at true angst, but a happy ending! i took a much sadder direction with the song lol. reader is described as having a father figure. looks of reader never described beside that there’s ribbons in their hair. they/them pronouns used. for a GUTS writing challenge in writing server!

Envy was a nasty thing. Ellie knew that. Ellie knew that the way her lip curled down upon the sight of your frame disappearing into the Tipsy Bison in Jackson was unfair.

Ellie knew that the way her body tensed whenever you were followed quickly by an older man, one who grumbled and wiped at his sleepy eyes, wasn’t fair. The way she turned on her heel and walked away each time she saw you two, the pebbles under the toe of her converse being kicked away, that wasn’t fair either.

But god, did it tie her stomach in tiny little knots, ones that made it hard to swallow, hard to look away when your shining eyes met her’s across the street somedays.

Sometimes, she tries to blame it on sleep. She tells herself the angry feeling bubbling in her stomach is simply a result of the sleepless nights. Of the shaking and panting breaths that shoot from her as she awakes from another never ending nightmare.

But most days, she realizes it’s only an excuse. This sick feeling is reserved only for you, and Ellie wishes she could swallow it down like a shot, but it instead pools in her mouth, poisoning her movements, her thoughts, her everything around you.

When you smile the smile Ellie knew all too well, It only made her feel worse. It shouldn’t, really, Ellie should quirk her lips up in response, wave you over maybe. Joel would have insisted. But lately she just raised a hand in a softer, colder response before finding a new corner to escape down.

Hell, if Joel was here, if things were different, he would have tilted his chin up knowingly when Ellie’s own chin jutted down at the sight of you, her cheeks painted pink with something akin to affection, rather than the near constant shade of frighteningly pale her face seemed to be lately.

He had done so a million times.

When Ellie was only a measly sixteen, telling Joel she just couldn't let you stay the night while Joel and your old man went on a particularly long patrol.

“I barely even know them!” Ellie had fought, her arms crossed over the quickly beating heart in her chest. She knew you, she knew you liked to wear ribbon in your hair, she knew your favorite color was blue because your favorite shoes were that color, and she knew you were pretty. So fucking pretty, the kind that made her stomach turn all mushy and gross when she tried to talk to you over the semi regular shared dinners Joel and a few other older men around town had insisted upon.

Joel just shook his head, seemingly fighting back one of those chuckles that made it sound like he knew something Ellie didn’t. Ellie hated when he did that. “You know them well enough, kid.” was all Joel had responded, patting Ellie’s slumped back.

Joel did it when you coaxed Ellie out of her little garage for dinner inside of Joel’s, a few years later. He would never say anything, not when he could barely get Ellie to say hello anymore, but a look was all that was needed. Green meeting a more tired looking brown for just a split second, and Ellie knew. Joel saw right through the nervous looks Ellie threw your way, saw through how Ellie insisted on totally platonically complimenting you every time you walked through the door. Ellie’s knees were always pointed your way at the table, and Joel always saw.

“They’re pretty,” Joel said later that night, voice careful as he watched Ellie, who watched the dishes she silently cleaned off the table. “Sweet too, too sweet for a hell like this.” Joel could barely finish the words before he heard the creak of the door, before the house was quiet again.

The last time you were brought up, Ellie remembers being cold. She’s often cold now, but the night on the porch was one of the first truly cold nights in Jackson. It stung her nose while she walked outside of the Tipsy Bison, leaving a crowd of shocked faces.

She felt stupid, so stupid that it made the wind feel even icier against her skin. God, why did she have to dance with Dina? Her eyes had been settled on you all fucking night, but Dina was always a firecracker, always tugging Ellie to dance or talk loudly at the bar top. Ellie couldn’t stop heaving as she slammed the door. Did you think they were together too? Did you think Dina was leaning in to kiss her like Seth thought? Dina wasn’t. Ellie wanted to tell you that as soon as Dina’s lips came to her ear, “They’re watching, El.”

But Seth broke the dance before Ellie could. Joel only made it worse in Ellie eyes, and yet you still followed her out the building.

Of course you did.

“Ellie,” she remembers you saying so softly, as if she might break if you had raised your voice even a little. Maybe she would have, she was a fragile thing that night, something easily crushed in your hands. Hands that had been gripped by yours outside the Bar that night.

You were the only one who didn’t look at her like she had two heads after the Seth incident, after her face had gone red at the sight of Joel. Her harsh words to the older man didn’t scare you away, didn’t make you crumble her between your finger tips.

“You should talk to him.” Your breath hit her face, the only warmth in that fucking air, and ellie remembers smelling something that was just as delicate as a pastry, maybe a perfume your father found on a patrol, maybe just you.

You cared. Something Ellie had convinced herself otherwise of, something that didn’t make sense in her mind. Why did you have any worry about she and Joel? How did it concern you at all? But it did, and Ellie listened to you.

Ellie walked up that frosted porch, arms swinging nervously, searching for space on the wooden railing. Ellie let Joel join her, let him ask about you.

“You like them?” Joel’s hands cupped his coffee, his head tilted Ellie’s way.

Ellie remembers so vividly how she turned away, tucking her chin near her shoulder. “I’m so stupid.”

Ellie could see how Joel’s head shook lightly, “You ain’t. They’d be lucky to have you.”

Ellie wishes she answered him that night, wishes she would have sat back on the porch, wishes she didn’t call him an asshole. Ellie wishes a lot of things about that night. Maybe she would have hugged him, if she had known. Maybe she would have started that conversation with forgiveness, rather than a hint of it, thrown at the end of her scrambled words, swallowed by her eyes she willed not to cry.

Ellie wishes for a lot of things, but she knows it’s useless.

Just as useless as avoiding you, now.

You had worn a black ribbon in your hair, the day of Joel’s burial. You had hugged Ellie so tightly, and Ellie almost could feel the heartbeat she swore she lost.

“I’m so sorry,” you had blubbered into her solid frame, and she almost tucked her nose into the skin of your neck, almost let the scent of your perfume calm her. But she just thanked you, pulled back and wiped one of her shaking thumbs over your tear streaked face. She was wiping your tears that day, and somehow it felt like the only right thing to do.

But Ellie remembers that day for another reason. It had been the first day she noticed the sick feeling in her stomach. The first time the hue of pink that always clouded her vision around you was dusted green instead, jealousy clawing at her throat.

She hated it. She hated how she couldn’t look away from where you slumped against your father’s chest. How his hand rubbed your shaking back as his breath puffed out in cold little clouds.

She hated how it reminded her of him.

Ellie stood alone, and watched on, feeling the tightening green branches of whatever awfulness was growing in the pit of her stomach. She cursed whatever it was laying above space, she dug the ball of her feet into the freezing grass and she cursed the earth for leaving her here to have to see this.

She walked home alone that night, shrugging you off with a rather monotone, “Go home, don’t worry about me,” when your eyes met hers in the cold air. She saw how you deflated lightly, saw how your eyes dropped to the ground. It made her feel more nauseous. She swallowed her feelings, the good and the bad, and wrapped her arms around herself as she turned.

That night Ellie veered away from her garage, finding comfort instead on the old couch that sat in Joel’s living room, and she thinks it may be the quietest place she has ever heard. She wonders what you may be doing. Was the creaking of the walls all you heard in your Jackson home too? Surely you hadn’t ripped an old and faded jacket from a closet that did not belong to you to use as a makeshift blanket, like Ellie had.

No, Ellie is sure your father walked close to you all the way home, sure he pulled out the chair at the kitchen table for you and offered you dinner, she’s even sure he had managed to crack a smile from you.

Ellie goes to sleep with a sick stomach.

“You're jealous, that’s natural,” Dina told her a few weeks later, after another stint of that awful green vine rooting itself in Ellie, one that kept her from taking you up on an offer to help clean up Shimmer. The growing seed that made her shake her head at you and offer a small and untruthful, “Don’t need any help.”

Dina handed Ellie a cup of warm tea in the cold garage. Ellie wouldn’t drink it, and she also wouldn’t eat any of the meals the Jackson residents left at her doorstep. But everyone still tried.

“But I shouldn’t be,” Ellie’s voice didn’t sound like her own. It was void of any vibrancy, any spark that Ellie’s tongue usually made. It was empty, spoken coldly. cold for herself, cold for that feeling in her chest.

“You’re grieving, El, it’s ok.”

Dina pressed a kind hand to her shoulder, and despite the way Ellie poisoned you in her mind, she still found herself wishing it was yours instead.

And now, more weeks that all pressed confusingly together had passed. The flower’s outside Joel’s were covered by snow, wilted and drained of life. His house had been empty since Ellie stole some of his old clothes a week back, a jacket that embarrassingly laid on the edge of her chair as she swung open the door of her garage turned home, glancing at another container on her doormat.

It was from you, of course it was. Ellie was sure you had been sent from some sort of heaven she was far too damned to ever access. A small note held your handwriting, and Ellie leaned down, grasping the food, the warmth burning at her frozen fingers.

Maria said she didn't see you at supply day again. I think you’d like this. I remember you eating it a lot at the dinners.

ps. you’re doing great in patrols, glad you went back to them. you’re one of the best jackson has.

xx.

A strand of auburn hair fell across her cheek as her chin dipped down, eyelashes tickling her skin as they closed.

Ellie was avoiding you, you had to have known that. Jesse knew it, Dina knew it, hell, even Tommy had commented on it last time he came by. Sure, Ellie was avoiding nearly everyone still, but it was no secret she turned the corner whenever you and your old man were around.

But here you were, making her food, leaving her notes of praise, complimenting her as if you had any need to. It made Ellie’s always down pointed lip quiver for a moment. You still fucking cared. Just like always.

It didn’t feel nice, it didn’t feel like how it would’ve if she got this note months ago. Then she would’ve clapped a hand over her heated cheek, stuffed it under a notebook like a kid with a crush.

But now, it felt more like an ache. A burning in her chest that made her push the door back open and slide the container on the waiting table near her door.

She should eat it later, that would be the kind thing to do. But the little voice whispers in Ellie’s ear again, the voice that drips poison over the thankfulness blossoming in her chest, ‘You think he helped them make that?’ the voice asked.

The palm of her hand pressed to her eyes as she leaned on the doorway, “Fuck.” Ellie muttered.

She kicked the wood, “Fuck!”

Ellie slammed her already bruised fist on the cracked wood and yelped. The splitting pain broke the girl from her mini temper tantrum, and the empty hand cupped the throbbing skin, a pair of teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

Surely this wasn’t a normal way to react to something so kind, something as simple as food. She didn’t have to overthink every small thing, didn’t have to let her brain flip every positive to a negative, but how does Ellie stop what she has grown so accustomed to?

Ellie’s first attempt to rid her chest of the vines that constricted her ribs was a deep breath and a squeeze of her eyes. She pretends she can smell your perfume still lingering in the air, she imagines your cheeks turned up in a smile, she wonders what color of ribbon you found this week to turn into some new hair tool, and then she exhaled.

Maybe if she thought hard enough, the vines would retreat, the ache on her bones would feel more like the silk of your touch. Maybe she can let herself care more about what you give her, kindness, food, those stupid butterflies she used to feel whenever you spoke, that set of pastel oil paints from a year ago. Rather than letting that voice remind her of all the things you could not give her, things you could not repair.

You hadn’t taken Joel from her, your old man hadn’t either. You having that.. having him, it wouldn’t make any of what Ellie was going through change. She swallowed the truth down like nails as she turned away from the garage.

When Ellie opens her eyes again, her vision seems a little more bright.

By the time Ellie winds up at the stable, she is pressed closely by Dina who tends to Japan, brushing quietly

Ellie breaks the silence first, and it surprises both when the first word from her mouth is your name.

Dina’s gaze shoots over, and Ellie can almost see the thin ice she is debating stepping on, lips parting. You were never an easy topic, and usually when El uttered the syllables of your name, Dina was in for a long and drawn out conversation she never knew truly how to maneuver, the conversation layered with every confusing feeling Ellie had for you. The guilt, the jealousy. Everything in between.

Ellie beats her to speaking again, “They left me food again today. I woke up to it.”

Dina nods slowly, eyes falling back to her horse. “That’s nice of them.”

“It is,” Ellie agrees, flexing her bruising knuckles. “Left a note too, complimenting me and shit.”

The brunette to the side of her pauses for a moment, her boots turning in lightly as she judged her next step. “If you had told me this a year ago, I think you would’ve blabbered for like.. forty minutes about how they were ‘the greatest thing ever to exist’ or convinced me it meant they were in love with you.”

The air is silent, and Dina thinks she may have overstepped.

But the vines have taken on a softer sort of squeezing on Ellie’s chest now, one that felt like the ribbon you wore.

“Yea,” she smiled lightly, and Dina stumbled a bit, maybe out of pure shock. “Yea I probably would have.”

The silence finds them again, though there’s no thickness to it, and Ellie finds her heavy shoulders just slightly less pained for a moment.

Until the stable door swings open, and Ellie watches as Dina’s head turns. She can tell from the look on her face alone, on the way she blinks a few times and glances at Ellie.

You had just walked through.

You walk by where Japan and Shimmer stood, and you smiled like you always did.

This time, Ellie’s chest only tightened lightly. She only felt the small tug of ribbon when she recognized the flannel you had pushed up to your elbows, one she had seen your father wear on patrols many times.

This time, Ellie tries to smile back. She doesn’t let that burn find her stomach, doesn’t let the voice sneer at the clothing and remind Ellie of what she did not have. This time, Ellie speaks instead.

“Thanks for the food.”

You look almost as nervous as Ellie feels. You probably didn’t expect responses by this point.

“Oh it’s no problem,” you shake your head and smile. “Hope you enjoy it.”

Ellie nods, tensing up, useless to decide where this conversation should go, where it could go.

Just as the branches begin to curl around her lungs again, Dina cuts them down with her voice.

“El and I thought about sharing it after patrol today, maybe over some shitty movie. You in?”

The auburn haired girl shoots an aimed look at Dina, but the way you light up and step closer, the way she can smell that pastry scent again, it calms her lightly.

“It’ll be fun,” Ellie offered, voice cracking toward the end.

“Yea,” you smile, toes bouncing like they did when you were excited. Toes covered by your favorite shade of blue shoes. “I’d really like that.”

When you meet Ellie’s eyes, she can see pink instead of green again for the first time.

[dandylovesturtles]

I should be in bed lol but I wanted to write a turtle tot sick fic so here

I went into this with no plan and it ended up uh. way sadder than I intended. whoops.

cw: mentions of vomit

...

Blue slept through naptime. That should have been Splinter's first clue.

In the moment, he'd just been so happy to actually have four sleeping children that he'd taken the opportunity for his own nap, the old, tattered storybook he'd been reading them draped over his face. He never managed to get Blue to wind down enough to sleep, so he usually had to quietly entertain him with books or the tv on low until the others woke up. But his Baby Blue had conked out almost immediately today, and soon Splinter was snoozing right along with them.

Blue was also the last to wake up. That should have been the second clue.

Splinter was woken up by Orange, talking in loud, disjointed sentences with plenty of nonsense words as he played with an old plastic telephone Splinter had found them. Red was racing his toy cars, making his own sound effects as they skid across the floor and crashed into the wall. Only Purple was quiet, industriously sorting his legos by color and size.

Splinter sat up, letting the book slide off his face, and took stock. It was surprising to see Blue still curled up against his leg even in the midst of all the racket his brothers were making. "Blue?" he said softly, giving the little turtle a nudge. Blue blinked his eyes open, groggily looking around. "Naptime is over."

Blue pushed himself up into a sitting position, then rubbed clumsily at his eyes. He looked so tired still that Splinter debated telling him he could keep sleeping, even if it might make putting him to bed later more difficult.

But once Blue was up, he saw Red racing his cars and pushed quickly to his feet, hurrying over to join in the game. Almost immediately he was demanding Red hand over one of the cars and setting up an elaborate make-believe track for their race, so Splinter let it go.

Thirty minutes later, Blue tugged on Splinter's old sweatpants and said, "Daddy, my tummy hurts." In hindsight, this is exactly when Splinter should have put it together.

But the kids rarely got sick - a benefit of whatever Draxum had put in the gunk that turned them into this, Splinter assumed. Which was a blessing, because he was pretty limited in what medicine he could get in his condition. The boys having a hearty immune system was one of the few things Splinter had going for him.

So he hadn't moved to that conclusion. Instead he said, "Do you need to go potty?" and Blue had considered that very seriously for a few seconds before nodding and rushing off to the bathroom.

Orange threw the plastic phone into Purple's meticulously organized lego piles and Splinter moved on to the next crisis without another thought.

It was at dinner, when he caught Blue pushing his food (mac'n'cheese!) around without interest, that it finally clicked that maybe he should be worried.

"Blue, what's wrong?"

Blue didn't so much as look up. He shrugged, swirling his noodles around and around.

Splinter would be embarrassed to admit how long it took him to remember their earlier conversation, but it eventually came back to him. "Ah... Is your stomach still hurting?"

Blue's face scrunched up in misery, and he nodded.

Splinter groaned in exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did!"

"I mean after you went potty."

Blue grimaced. Instead of answering, he scooped up some mac'n'cheese and stuffed it in his mouth. He looked like he regretted it as soon as he'd done it.

"Do not spit that out," said Splinter immediately, because mac'n'cheese was one of the few things Purple would eat and if Blue spat it out in front of him it would go on his Bad Foods list for at least a month. And Orange had a habit of mimicking anything Blue did, which would only compound the problem.

Blue chewed and swallowed the mouthful agonizingly slowly. He looked so miserable afterward that Splinter felt bad about it.

"Are you going to throw up, Blue?" he asked, and got a furious head shake in response. "Are you just telling me that?" Another shake. "Do you want to keep eating?" A third shake. Splinter sighed and took his bowl from him. "Alright. I'll put this in the fridge, if you want it later."

Their mini-fridge was already stuffed full, but Splinter would simply have to make space, or throw all this mac'n'cheese out. He wished they had a bigger fridge, but just getting this back to the juncture in the sewers he called a home had been difficult enough.

He wished he had a bigger fridge. He wished he had a house. He wished he had a pediatrician to take Blue to. He wished he wasn't a rat man. He wished he and his kids were... normal.

It was a bad thought. He knew that as soon as he thought it, and he tried to push it down. The kids didn't need to know they weren't normal. That none of this was normal. He knew that, but...

"Throw up?" he heard Purple say, and then the telltale sound of him pushing his bowl away. Mac'n'cheese was on the Bad Foods list. Splinter groaned.

...

He found their old thermometer after the boys were finished eating. Getting a temperature from Blue was near impossible because he moved it around too much or spat it out before time was up, but Splinter would have to do his best.

After three tries, he got a reading that seemed accurate enough. Blue's body ran colder than a human child's, and it had taken observation and trial and error for Splinter to learn what constituted as a fever. As it was, Blue was only two degrees above his normal. So at least that wasn't too worrying.

He was still complaining that his stomach hurt, though. A stomach bug, then? Or just something he ate? Usually Red was the one who would put random things in his mouth unless Splinter kept a careful watch, but Blue and Orange were... adventurous eaters, too. It was possible.

They continued with their normal bedtime routine. Another thing Splinter had going for him was that his boys loved baths; getting them into their makeshift tub, even with lukewarm water, was always easy. From his research, Red, Blue, and Purple were all aquatic turtles, and Orange was not one to be left out of his brothers’ games no matter his biology.

Blue wasn't excited for bath time tonight, though. He sat quietly in the tub, making grumpy noises anytime he got splashed and playing only with his favorite blue shark toy, ignoring everything else. He definitely felt bad. Splinter was feeling increasingly terrible that he hadn't noticed.

He got them all toweled off and into their pajamas. Then into the pallet beds he had for them, all in one big shared alcove, a tattered curtain strung up for a semblance of privacy. They would need something more as they got older, but for now the boys seemed content to share space.

He tucked Red, Purple, and Orange in, then turned his attention to Blue. He had found an old bucket earlier that he (theoretically) used for mopping, and this he presented to Blue.

"If you are going to throw up, please do it in this," he told Blue. "We don't have any spare sheets."

"Not gonna," said Blue grumpily, pushing the bucket away.

"Ewww," whined Purple. "I don't want to share with Leo if he throws up."

"Not gonna!" Blue insisted, glaring at Purple, who glared back. Splinter sighed and pushed the bucket at Blue again.

"I am serious, Leonardo," he said, and that got Blue's attention. "If you throw up, do it in this bucket."

Instead of answering, Blue rolled over and scrunched himself up in a ball. That was the best Splinter was going to get, he supposed, so he just sighed and put the bucket next to Blue's bed.

"Good night, boys," he said as he got to his feet, ignoring the crackles from his back and knees.

"Good niiiight," came three echoes. Blue was giving him the silent treatment. Alright.

He went back to his own bed, sectioned off by an old divider screen he'd managed to find. Hopefully they could at least get through the night without disaster striking.

...

According to his beat up alarm clock, it was only two hours later when Red showed up by his bedside, shaking him awake urgently.

Splinter groaned his way into consciousness, blinking groggy eyes until his eldest son came into focus.

"Leo threw up," came Red's predictable report.

Splinter sighed, pushing his sheets aside and rising from his futon. "Did he make it in the bucket?"

Red's expression was not encouraging.

...

He had not made it in the bucket.

Blue sat stock still in the puddle of his own sick, eyes teary and expression a mix between stunned and embarrassed. Purple was pressed as close to the opposite wall as he could get, hands pressed tight over his nose and mouth. Orange was at Blue's side, patting his arm with his chubby little hand.

"Blue," Splinter snapped as soon as he saw the mess. "Why didn't you throw up in the bucket!?"

"Didn't think I was gonna," Blue croaked.

"Well, you did. All over your sheets." Splinter ran his hands over his tired eyes. "Now you have nothing for tonight. And who knows if I'll even be able to get the stain out. I may have to go all the way to the surface to get new ones, and do you know what a hassle that is!? The bucket was right here, Blue!"

"I'm sorry."

The miserable hiccup in Blue's voice effectively stopped Splinter's tirade, and he refocused on his son. Blue's tears had spilled over, streaking down his miserable face. He was shivering, hands clutching the fabric of his ruined sheets, wringing them tight. He looked terrified.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," he repeated. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Something inside Splinter cracked.

Leo was only four, by his best guess. He was a baby, still. A sick baby, and Splinter was yelling at him about... about bed sheets?

Blue didn't know that Splinter would have to steal him new sheets. He didn't know that Splinter feared every time he did something so risky, that it might expose their tiny family to hostile forces - the human authorities, Big Mama's goons, Draxum's gargoyles. He didn't know that Splinter should be taking him to a doctor right now. He didn't know that sleeping on a pallet bed in the sewers wasn't normal.

He just knew that he had thrown up, and his dad was mad about it.

Immediately, Splinter stooped and scooped the still-apologizing Blue into his arms. He was getting bigger all the time, and, somehow, Splinter was getting smaller, but he could still hold his boys in his arms, still cradle them against his chest.

"Blue... Leo, listen to me."

"I'm sorry," Blue mumbled again, followed by a sad, wet hiccup.

"Shh, shh, no, my son, please listen." He waited until teary eyes were turned on him to continue. "You don't need to apologize. You did nothing wrong."

"Missed the bucket," said Blue, and Splinter shook his head.

"That's alright. You're sick. It is my job to take care of these things." He scratched at the back of Blue's shell with the arm holding him, something he knew always calmed Blue down. Sure enough, he felt his boy begin to relax. "Do not worry about the sheets. If Daddy needs to get more, he will. For now we will all share."

Blue sniffed, and buried his face in Splinter's chest. That was a good sign. Splinter kept up the scraching.

"I'm sorry I yelled. You aren't in trouble, Blue. You're alright."

Blue sniffled again. Hiccupped one last time. His tears were drying up, and his little voice said, "S'okay, Daddy."

"Oh, my Baby Blue... Thank you."

He still felt terrible as he lowered Leo back to his bed and started to strip away the soiled sheets, but Leo had calmed down considerably. He kept the bucket close, though, even as he laid back down again on his pillow.

"Leo can have my blanket," said Red, already pulling the old thing over. Splinter smiled gratefully at him.

"Thank you, Red. Blue, do you think you will throw up again?"

Blue shrugged. "Dunno."

"That's alright. It's okay if you do." Splinter smoothed the blanket over Blue, not tucking him in so he could move if he needed to. "I'll get this sheet washed out and be back, alright?"

Blue nodded. He was still gripping the bucket with one hand. Splinter rubbed his head, then stood up with his bundle of soiled sheets.

When he returned, with water for Blue, he'd thrown up again - in the bucket, this time. Orange was still by him, rubbing his arm, while Red sat behind him, supporting his back. Even Purple had come close, awkwardly patting at Blue's leg while pointedly avoiding looking at the bucket.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Blue," he told them, getting three beaming smiles in return.

They were all going to have the bug by tomorrow. Splinter would need to find more buckets.

[dorotheataylor]

Hugs and kisses

Pairing- Peter Parker x GN!Reader

Summary- Sometimes even the strongest ones need comfort and Peter finds it in your arms.

Warnings- none literally, this is just a soft fic coz peter deserves all the love and hugs in the world, my poor english is a warning tho :’)

Word Count- 687

A/N- I thought of this while listening to ‘Sweet Nothing’ by Taylor Swift and here it is. Also I changed fandoms lol. dw i still write for harry potter but i’ll write for marvel too now. And this can be read for any peter but I imagined tasm peter here :3 Hope y’all like this <3

You were about to get into bed, after having done your nighttime skincare and changing into your pyjamas, when you heard soft knocks on your window.

You went over to open it, knowing it was Peter. Whenever he visited you after his night patrols, it was always near this time. You would go on about your day while he told about his and then went to sleep together while snuggled close to each other.

Today it seemed a little different. Because when you moved the curtains to get a look at him, his expressions were different from what they always were. Like he was upset about something.

You quickly unlatched your window and let him inside. You turned to face him and furrowed your eyebrows when he didn’t meet your eyes.

Something was definitely up.

“Peter, love, is everything okay?” you said softly, not wanting him to break. “You know you can tell me anything,” you start, wanting to break the silence, but he flinches at your voice. you let out a shaky exhale and step forward, reaching a hand up, slowly, like approaching a skittish animal, to press your palm to his cheek. he unconsciously chases the warmth, his hair parting to reveal his eyes, sadder than you’ve ever seen them. your heart lurches for him. “oh, Peter.”

He leaned in your touch and sighed in content. Slowly you lifted your other hand to cup both his cheeks while he looked on the verge of tears.

“I- I just needed to see you. He- he said that,” Peter couldn’t even bring himself to properly say that. After that random bad guy he had just fought told him he had attacked you, he needed to make sure you were okay.

“It’s okay, Peter. I’m here.” You said, voice still soft as you start to caress his cheek with your thumb.

Peter couldn’t keep it in anymore, as he immediately buried his face in your neck and held you tightly, as if he were afraid you’d disappear.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t stop your heart from breaking after seeing him in such a state. The way he sounded, the way you could feel his tears on your neck, you couldn’t help but shed some tears as well as you spoke soothing words to him.

Moments like these brought comfort to Peter. Him in your arms, you holding him tightly, speaking softly and trying to comfort him, he sometimes wonders what he has done to deserve this, to deserve you. Your arms were his go to place when things got hard, being spiderman wasn’t easy. And it felt great that you out of all people knew about him and still loved the real him.

Both of you stayed in each other’s arms for what felt like an eternity, with none of you wanting to let go of each other. But you didn’t mind it, Peter deserved all your love and affection.

After few moments, you slowly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence you both were in, “lets get you changed so that we can cuddle in bed. Sounds good?”

He seemed hesitant to let you go, but he loosened his grip and pulled away to look you in the eye, arms still loosely wound around your waist. He seemed almost meek like this—to the point it almost felt like you’re not looking at the strongest. Right now, it kinda just feels like you’re looking at a man—a man who has the entire weight of the New York on his shoulders. 

“Thank you, Y/N.” He said, his voice still wavering. “You- You’re everything. God I love you so much.”

You smiled gently at him as you cupped his cheek again, he kissed your palm, and you said, “I love you too, Peter. More than words can express.”

With that, Peter cupped your face and brought his lips onto yours, pouring all his love, affection, fears and everything he felt for you into it. You kissed him back with same passion, sealing a promise of never leaving him into this kiss.

Because maybe in that moment, this was all you both needed.

[justwinginglife]

Make A Wish

Guys, it's still Hoshina's bday in my timezone, so bday fic for yall. Also I'm sorry it's a lil sadder than I wanted it to be and I'm sorry it's short. But I swear it's happy lol.

It was 12:00 am, November 21st, and Soshiro was staring at his phone, waiting for your text. 

When you’d first started texting him at midnight on his birthdays, it was the year you’d moved to Korea, the year you’d taken the sun away. It was the year walks in the park went away, the year swims in the river went away, the year stargazing on rooftops went away. It was the year his jackets found themselves back in his closet and the year your scent started to fade. It was the year he walked home alone, ate dinners alone, missed you all alone. When the girl next door became the girl in the next country over, he found everyday became a little grayer with every moment you weren’t by his side. 

But even galaxies apart, he was still your best friend, and you’d close the distance with a text at midnight, letting him know he wasn’t alone, letting him know he was in your thoughts. Sometimes texts would turn into calls and then night would turn into day, and when he thought of facing his birthday without you, he’d miss you more than he ever missed you before.

When you were neighbors, you used to sneak into his bedroom at midnight, trying not to set his curtains on fire while you climbed through his window with one hand cradling a candlelit cupcake and the other reaching out to him for support. Those were the good days. In the dead of the night, while everyone else was asleep, you’d sing him happy birthday as quietly as you could (though it still wasn’t very quiet) and he’d listen to every single note, even as off key as they were, with a smile on his face, memorizing the sound of your voice. Then you’d make him blow out his candle and tell you what he wished for and he’d shake his head laughing at you, and insist that if he told you, it wouldn’t come true. One night, he finally told you his wish: he wished that every birthday could be like this. That every year could be marked with memories of you by his side.

The very next year you moved away and he never told you a wish of his ever again.

That’s when you started texting him. You’d tell him your wishes for him. 

I wish that Soshiro could finally have that dog he’s always wanted.

I wish that Soshiro could grow tall, but not as tall as me, maybe like an inch taller.

I wish that Soshiro would find a hundred dollars lying on the street.

I wish that Soshiro could be happy for the rest of his life.

I wish that I could be by his side to see it.

And on that cold, fall night, every text that lit up his screen made him feel just a little bit warmer every time. 

So every year after that, the tradition continued. Every year, at midnight, he thought of you, and every year, at midnight, you texted him your birthday wishes. You texted him until your hands cramped and your eyes burned. You called him until your throat was dry and your voice hoarse. You wished for him until your head hurt and your heart ached. 

With different schedules and different lives, there was no guarantee you could keep in constant contact, but for at least one day out of the year, for at least one night out of the year, Soshiro was yours. And you weren’t falling asleep until he knew how special he was to you, and you weren’t saying goodbye until you knew he wouldn’t forget you this year. 

But he’d never forget you.

Even now, at 12:01, he thought of you. He thought of you until 12:01 turned into 12:02 and his jittery heart began to jump in his chest. He thought of you until 12:02 turned into 12:03 and his uneasy heart began to pace in his chest. He thought of you until 12:03 turned into 12:04 and his despondent heart began to sink in his chest. And then he wondered if you finally forgot about him. If the chasm had finally grown too wide. If your heart had finally recalled itself. If all you would ever be to him was a wish he whispered to the stars at midnight. 

Then 12:05 hit and there was a knock at the window.

And there you were, disheveled, panting, sweating, holding a cupcake with a flickering candle like your life depended on it.

He watched as you climbed into his room, like you had so many times before, and before he knew it, his arms were around you in an instant. The way he held you was almost as if he was expecting you to turn into stardust in mere seconds if he so much as loosened his grasp, as if you were nothing more than a ghost and he was desperately trying to tether you to this world, to his world. He swore he’d never speak another wish aloud again, but god, did he want to tell you that he wished you could stay. That he wished you’d be his. That he wished when he dreamt of you he’d wake up to you. That he wished when he reached for you he’d find you. That he wished when he loved you, you’d love him too.

But you didn’t cross a sea just to shake his hand, pat his head, and give him a cupcake. You didn’t save every coin that you ever earned, or ever spotted in a crack on the sidewalk, or ever found wedged in between couch cushions, just to give up now. You wanted his midnights but you wanted his middays. You wanted his early mornings and late evenings. You wanted his wishes and his hopes. You wanted his strength and his weakness. You wanted his past and his future. You wanted him.

You were five minutes past twelve, and you were late, but dammit, you’d never make him wait for you ever again.

“Wish again.” You instructed, gesturing to the candle.

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Your wish. Tell me again.”

He took a deep breath. “I wish that every year, you could be by my side.” He spoke so softly and blew on the candle so gently that you almost didn’t think it would go out. But it did, and he smiled. “I wish that every year, you could be by my side,” He repeated. 

“Wish granted.”

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @inkytypewriter

[ezzydantes]

Monster Trio Births part 2

Author's Note: Zoro's turn to be an ACTUAL daddy (although he's a daddy to most of us... lol). Fluff again. Warnings: Hard birth because having babies ain't easy peasy.

Zoro

You were about to have your child by the time your crew reached Wano. Zoro was happier it worked out that way with Chopper being present. If he was going to have anyone oversee his wife through childbirth it would be the blue nosed reindeer. You had both agreed that your mutual adopted son would be the one to bring your child into the world.

What had not been anticipated was the labor portion. The child was stuck and Chopper was doing what he could to save you both. Zoro had made a decision within himself that if it came down to the two of you... he'd pick you. As much as it pained him to possibly lose a child, he would deal with it and drag you out of whatever pit of Hell you'd drag yourself into if the baby was lost. You had been going through labor for HOURS now and your strength was failing you.

"Zoro..." Chopper cried, "I don't know how much longer she can hold out..."

"Take me to my wife...", the swordsman quietly stated, "She needs me..."

The small reindeer shook his head and led the green haired man to you. Upon entering the room, Zoro had to steel himself, not just for his own composure but for you as well. You were crouched down in the middle of your shared bed holding onto ropes that had been tied to the rafters above. You were soaked in sweat screaming in pain as you bared down again with the next contraction.

"Don't give up on her or the baby...", the man growled as he climbed onto the bed behind you.

"Let's try a different position..." Chopper immediately turned back into doctor mode, "Y/N back up and lay down against Zoro!"

You barely heard his instructions before your husband was taking you carefully into his arms. He leaned back against the headboard with you securely tucked between his legs.

"Baby I know you're tired and I know the baby is giving you Hell, but I need you to focus....", the swordsman gently whispered against your ear as he pulled your long raven locks o er his shoulder and began wiping your forehead with a rag that Robin provided. He began cooing in your ear, "you got this, Baby, we can do this..."

You nodded in the affirmative and squeezed his hands as you bared down again.

"I see the head!" Chopper shouted as he signaled Nami to wipe your face with a cold rag.

"I think a couple more good pushes and the baby should be out!" The small doctor joyously shouted as he instructed Nami to get more towels to swaddle the baby in.

"I don't know if I can do this..." you whispered between breaths as another contraction hit you.

"You're a Roronoa now... you can do anything... you could before too.... you're the strongest woman I know... you got this, Sweetheart..." Zoro encouraged.

You bared down again and Chopper said he could pull the baby out at this point. Relief hit you as you felt the child being pulled from you. Exhaustion immediately overtook you and you passed out after Chopper got the baby.

A few hours later you woke up to Zoro passed out at the side of your bed. You felt as though you had been chewed up, spit out, chewed up again and than spat on a sharp rock ravine. You silently yelped as you tried to move but woke up your lover.

"Baby..." he cooed as he suddenly stood up and crawled I to bed to hold you. "I know it hurts but... I need to hold you..."

The sound of his voice stopped your heart for a second. It was weak, needy even... nothing like the swordsman or first mate voice you were used to... softer and sadder than even his bedroom voice.

"Lover?" You quietly questioned as you tried to wrap your arms around him. He knew your intentions the way he knew your body and gently wrapped your arms around him as he knew you wanted. "I thought I'd lost you... you wouldn't wake up..."

You felt warm drops of water on your collar bone as you turned your head. Your Warrior was silently crying against you, causing your tears to well up as well, "I never meant to scare you... "

"You scared the hell outta me and the boy... he's still waiting to meet you..." the green haired man chuckled as he tried to gain his composure, "Little man deserves to meet his mother.. especially after the shit he put you through..."

You silently giggle at the admission. "I would love to meet the only other boy who could steal my heart...."

"In the morning... please... for now... I need to hold you... know you're real and here..." Zoro whispered as he held you closer, "Let those idiots of ours take care of him for now..."

You softly giggled. "They can't be too bad if you trust our son with them..."

"Shut up...." he quietly growled as he tucked you further into him while placing his chin atop your head, inhaling your scent, "Just give me a bit longer... please..."

His voice was still hoarse... you vaguely recall hearing him scream... you did your best to squeeze him to you with what little energy you had. "For the record... I need to train for the next baby..."

"This is the one and only.... I'll not risk you or a child again..." he said deadpanned as he stared down at you. You simply smiled knowing he was still raw from the possibility of losing you both, "Yes my love..."

A few minutes later their was a screaming baby being brought to you. Zoro walked ever so slowly as he awkwardly held your son. You couldn't help but smile. "Come here baby... is Daddy scary?" You teased looking up at your husband's annoyed look. You held the green haired babe close to your chest at first, cooing at him until he settled down seconds later. You fed him from your breast until he was full, burped him and changed his diaper before you made Zoro sit, shirtless next to your bed in your reading chair and hold the boy to him. "What shall we call him?" You whispered half asleep. He groaned at how annoying this situation was even though he smiled at the fact that his son was so relaxed in his arms.

"You can ask Robin as well... babies love skin to skin with Mommy but Daddy too... " you smiled as your infant son snuggled into his father's warmth. Zoro gently telling him all the different sword styles he'd learn and about the swords he'd inherit. "Alexander.... Xander... ", you yawned as you closed your eyes, "It means 'defender of man'.... a true warrior..."

"Alexander? Xander... Roranoa Alexander... alright... And you're main job besides being the greatest swordsman in the world is protecting your mother..." the swordsman quietly whispered thinking you were asleep, seeing your eyes closed, "Your mother is the most precious thing you will have in this world... and it's your job now to help me protect her... and when you find someone like your mother.... you hold onto her tight... just like my Sensei taught me, and you protect her too..."

You gently smiled as you heard your husband settle your son down. You gave a satisfactory moan as he curled into your shared bed and pulled you close. His strong arms around you and his breath coming through his nose at the top of your head. "I love you...."

"Hnnn" he groaned, readjusting you to face him, "I love you too... " He kissed your forehead and then your lips before wrapping you into him. "By the way... six weeks is bullshit..."

You giggled as you nuzzled into his chest. "I have to heal... plus you want me pregnant again so soon?"

"We'll test this one out first but I'm gonna say a hard NO for now..." he sighed.

You kissed his cheek, "Good answer..."

[obsolescent]

An Eye for an Eye

Pairing: Trans!Jill Valentine x GN!Reader

Summary: You’re a stay at home partner. You cook and clean, keeping the apartment tidy and things looked after while your partner works. Most nights, they’re out longer than they should be. You don’t buy the excuses they feed you, knowing deep down what’s occurring. One night your neighbor comes over for dinner and your suspicions are proven right, but she has quite the idea of getting them back.

Author’s Note: Coming back swinging lol. I’ve been sitting on this idea for a while (wrote this out months ago and I’ve just been staring at it). It's been at the forefront of my mind recently and I had to get it out. It got sadder than I thought it would, oof. Don’t worry, I do make up for it.

Content Warnings: Gender neutral language used for reader and your partner, trans Jill Valentine, RE5 Jill, angst, mentions of anxiety and depression, mentions of disordered eating, vomiting, cheating, distant/neglectful partner, P in V sex, revenge sex, unprotected sex.

|| Disclaimer: Jill Valentine is trans in this story. Keep your transphobic remarks to yourself and don’t read this if that bothers you. ||

The dining table is set, the plates sat upon their placemats, silverware aligned on one side, glasses of wine on the other. You had just finished cooking, plating the food and sitting in your seat, staring at the empty chair across from you. 

Jaw tensed, nose scrunched as you will your useless tears away. 

There’s no use in them any longer. You would’ve thought you had cried them all out after the months, after all the distance that had grown between you and your partner. 

Anger, confusion, and sadness have flitted through your mind ever since this started. The emotions are undulating, leaving you riddled with anxiety and nerves shot to hell and back.

You stare down at your food, fork in hand gripped so tightly it threatens to warp. A door closing causes the fork to fall from your clutches, the utensil clattering to the table. 

Your neighbor’s door. 

Your gaze settles on the fixed plate at the other end of the table, the steam still rising from the freshly cooked meal.

No use in letting another meal go to waste.

You’re out of your chair and opening the door, crossing the hall. The minuscule corridor, a mere 15 feet, and a couple doors, is what separates the two of you. You rap your knuckles against the wood, listening to shuffling inside.

The light through the peephole shifts, someone gazing out into the hallway, and the door swings open.

Jill stands at the threshold, one hand holding the door and the other propped against the frame. She says your name, followed by, “Everything okay?”

You fix your posture, standing up straight and meeting her artic eyes. You take a deep breath.

“Yeah, I reckon everything’s good. Wanted to ask if you’d join me for supper?”

Jill’s face shows surprise, before her eyebrows furrow. “Your partner isn’t home again?” 

You grimace. She’s noticed. Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod your head, before looking away. The feeling of being unsure of your decision to invite her over starts to seep in. Her expression softens as she smiles at you. “Sure, I’d love to.” 

Your gaze moves back to her face, her eyes crinkling in the corners as she pulls the door closed, stepping into the hallway with you. The air releases from your lungs.

You give your own small smile and turn back towards your apartment, guiding her inside. You close the door while Jill removes her jacket and shoes. You make your way back to the table and she takes the seat where your partner would usually occupy.

“You caught me at a good time, I was about to start making my own dinner,” Jill says with a small laugh. You chuckle, “Well, I hope it’s as good as what you were gonna make.”

She picks up the fork and begins to eat, a noise of satisfaction leaving her lips.

“Damn, this is good. I really appreciate you for inviting me to dinner.” Face burning at the noise she made along with the praise, you nod and thank her for the compliment.

Light chatter is exchanged as the two of you eat. The discussion starts off with basic things, for her it’s her work. You, it’s what you got up to at home, which was a load of nothing today, the typical tidying up of the place and whatever else you could find to fill up the time. 

Quiet falls over the apartment as the two of you focus on finishing your food. It’s a comfortable silence, one that almost has a sense of domesticity to it. 

You feel some of the anxiety ebb away, the knots in your gut loosen, eased by Jill’s mere presence. It’s surprising that that’s all it takes for you to settle down, having someone in your home, even if it isn’t who’s supposed to be here. 

It helps you finish your food. Most days now you feel nauseous, unable to eat full meals or much at all these days. It’s led to some weight loss these last few months since it all started, a habit you’ve noticed that occurs whenever life becomes turbulous. 

Jill clears her throat, bringing you out of your thoughts to see her troubled expression.

“I…need to tell you something,” Jill starts, hands squeezing together.

Your stomach clenches, bile rising.

“O-okay, yeah,” inhaling, exhaling slowly, you nod.

She shifts in her seat, leaning forward. “I…” She shakes her head, blonde locks shifting, falling over one of her eyes. She takes a deep breath and begins speaking.

“I saw your partner, with someone else. A bar downtown.” 

You stare at her, face blank. 

Lips pressed into a thin line, she breaks eye contact and turns her face up, towards the ceiling.

Her hands move to grip the edges of the table, knuckles white. 

“They were kissing.”

A feeling akin to a fire poker that had just been removed from the embers pierces your heart. A choked noise leaves you as your hand flies to cover your mouth.

Of course you had your suspicions, an inkling to what was happening. The way your body had been wound up these countless days that seemed to crawl by. Questions innumerable, so many you kept to yourself, for the dread that would come thereupon the answers.

Now, the truth has been revealed and it gores your soul. 

Your body is making its way towards the toilet as you heave, rushing into the room. Knees slamming onto the tile, the contents of your stomach spilling into the bowl.

Jill stands, gripping the back of the chair before she follows after you, guilt striking her so hard she feels unsteady. Not knowing you would have such a visceral reaction to the news, she assumed your partner’s infidelity was known.

Now, as she walks into the bathroom and crouches beside you, laying a comforting hand on your back as your weeping saturates the room, rage replaces the regret. Jill puts that anger on hold to help you regain your composure, assisting you in getting back on your feet and leaving you be as you clean yourself up.

She shuts the door to the bathroom and props herself up against the wall across from you, in thought. Ideas begin to form. Of course, she’d go over them with you once you’ve calmed down, but for now she lets herself brainstorm.

Jill, a woman who hates injustice, cheaters, and liars, especially ones who don’t see how good they have it, is irate. But also, still taken aback.

She remembers that night at the bar, out with Chris after work, when she had been doing her typical scan of the place, securing potential exits when her head had snapped back towards one area so hard she felt like she’d given herself whiplash.

There, she had seen your partner with another person, all over each other. It wouldn’t have been an understatement to say the two were literally “sucking faces”. She grimaced and turned away, having seen enough with just a single glance. Chris had seen where Jill’s gaze had landed and whistled low, chuckling. “Damn, just going at it in public like that.”

Jill groaned, hand cupping her forehead as she propped her elbow on the bar’s counter. “That’s my neighbor’s partner…with someone else.” She had mentioned you before to him, about how kind you had treated Jill, and had confessed to having a crush on you. She had also mentioned how odd your partner’s patterns were, but after a glance at the romantic exchange taking place across the bar, it all made sense.

Chris sucked in a breath between his teeth, a hissing sound while he also cringed. 

“Fuck, you gonna tell ‘em?” He asked, finishing off his glass, the ice clinking together as he set it back down. “Of course I am. They deserve a shit ton better than that. I just…don’t know how I’m going to do it.” Jill says, rubbing her temple. Chris hummed and patted Jill’s shoulder, “The right time will come.”

Indeed, it had. Jill had been lost in the memory until you opened the bathroom door, face blotchy and sniffling still. “Hey,” she said softly, leaving her perch against the wall and guiding you into the living room to sit on the couch. “Is there anything you want to talk about?” She asks, “I’m here for you, whatever you need,” Jill pats your arm while she speaks, hoping to soothe you.

You nod, taking a deep breath. 

“I…guess I shouldn’t be surprised?” You start, wincing at the crack in your voice, throat raw. Jill nods, urging you to continue. “I knew there was something going on, I just ignored it. Didn’t want to face the truth,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut at the new wave of emotions. You grip at your arms, grounding yourself. 

“What would I even do if we split up? I don’t work, don’t have a career, and I’m far away from home.” Panic rises and your breathing quickens, a sickening realization washing over you. “I ignored it because…I—“ you suck in a harsh breath, “I thank you, Jill, for telling me, but…” you trail off, avoiding her gaze. “There’s not anything I can do.” 

“Bullshit.”

It leaves Jill’s mouth before she can register it.

You blink, meeting her icy gaze. Your mouth opens to respond, but Jill continues, “Of course there’s something you can do, there always is.” She grabs your hand and squeezes it.

Your eyes remain glued to your entwined grip.

Jill bites her lip, an answer on her tongue. Fuck it.

“Get them back.”

Your brain lags for a moment, confusion painting your face, not registering her response before your mouth opens into an “O”, eyes fixated on where you’re connected.

Is she…insinuating what I think she is?

Jill inhales and begins speaking once more, “It seems like your partner can’t, or doesn’t want to leave, either. If that’s the case, then why not play them at their own game?”

Your mouth snaps shut, biting your lip as you think on her words.

“So…give them a taste of their own medicine?” You ask.

Jill nods, “Yeah, exactly.”

“Are you…wanting to help?”

Well, that’s out there.

You feel Jill stiffen beside you, and regret immediately fills you.

“I-I’m sorry, I thought that earlier when you said–and when you–”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Jill cuts you off and your mouth hangs open, words halting in their tracks.

She clears her throat and shifts, turning towards you some more, thumb running over the skin covering your knuckles.

Jill had grown an infatuation for you. Unfortunate due to you being married, but how could she not? Always going out of your way to help your neighbors, her included. Your kindness didn’t stop there. Overflowing into the streets below, to anyone and anything. One time she caught you feeding the stray animals that would wander by the complex, your generosity knows no limits. But knowing you had a spouse, she would never infringe on you and your partner’s relationship. But now…

Jill typically wouldn’t help someone cheat, never. But…

“An eye for an eye.”

You both sit in silence for a moment, taking the other in. The two of you capturing miniscule details neither had the time to see before.

Jill speaks once more, clearing her throat. 

“Now, we don’t have to do anything right now, only when you’re comfortable and ready to, if you even want to later on–” she begins to pull herself away from your hold but you grip her tighter, drawing her closer.

“Wait!” Your voice raised, Jill’s eyes widened slightly at your reaction.

“Just, wait…I want to, now. Don’t…let go of me, please.” 

Jill allows you to keep her close, fingers entwining.

“You’re very pretty,” you murmur, eyes taking long sweeps over the contours of her face. She blushes, happy to know you find her attractive, like she does you.

“Hey,” Jill starts, a whisper. “Let’s go over to my place, if that’s okay with you? No chance of…disruptions.” 

You nod, letting her guide you to the front door, stopping to grab her belongings. The two of you cross the short distance from your door to her’s, and Jill locks the door once you’re inside.

We’re here, in her house to…This is really happening.

You glance over what you can see so far, a living room and kitchen, same layout as your own, but a lot more scarce in terms of personalization. 

Jill watches you take everything in, the feeling of self-consciousness blooming. 

She begins to fidget with her hands. You look over at her, taking in her change in demeanor and walk over to her, touching her arm. “Hey, I think it’s lovely,” you say with a smile that melts away any doubt in Jill.

She chuckles, rubbing her own arm, “Would’ve done some decorating if I’d known you’d be coming over. Buy some flowers, light some candles…” Jill trails off, feeling a bit awkward. She’s never done something like this before. She’d had sex before, one night stands here and there, but hardly had time for a relationship with her work. 

This would be the first in a long time if this became more than an act of revenge against an unfaithful lover.

You could sense it as well, mixing in with your own doubts. Jill takes a deep breath and takes your hands in hers.

She says your name, “Why don’t we start off slow, okay? See where it goes?” She suggests, leading you to the couch. “Yeah,” you say while nodding, settling down while she walks back towards the kitchen, the soft sounds of her rummaging through her cabinets meeting your ears before Jill’s back with two wine glasses and a bottle.

She sets the items down on the coffee table before grabbing the bottle and pouring equal amounts into each glass, before handing one to you. You thank her and take a sip, the dry taste of merlot washing over your taste buds. 

Jill’s free hand clasps your own, her thumb rubbing reassuringly over your knuckles. Once more, the sourness of betrayal bubbles up in the back of your throat, and you try to subdue the taste with a mouthful of wine. 

Setting the glass down, you  relax into the couch, latching onto Jill’s arm while your head settles on her shoulder. Her warmth seeps into you while you take in the smell of her, fresh laundry mixed with a hint of some fruit you can’t quite identify.

Following your lead, Jill relaxes alongside you, her head coming to rest upon yours. Tendrils of her blonde hair dangle in your eyesight, and the smell of eucalyptus mixes with the other scents. 

You inhale, breathing her in. Jill’s head turns and she leaves a kiss upon your hair. Her lips remain against your head, strands of your own hair sticking to her face, her lips. Jill’s arm reaches over your body, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. 

She hasn’t felt the touch of someone else in a long time. 

Jill savors this, this closeness. Its significance is all that more unique since it’s you in her presence, in her embrace, finally being here in her own place. A sigh leaves her and she grips you tighter. 

You, on the other hand, are alight. From the moment her fingers grip your side, her nails slightly digging in as she pulls you close, all at once arousal shoots through your body. The feeling careening through your blood and tingling your skin. 

God, you haven’t been touched like that in…Months. 

The realization brings forth a flood of emotions, tears edging along your lashes. A choked noise leaves you before you can suppress it and Jill jerks back, her hand cupping the side of your face to turn it towards her, eyes widening with apprehension. 

“What’s wrong? Did I do something that made you uncomfortable? You can tell—“

“No!”

The word choked out of your mouth as you pulled her back to you.

“Please, don’t stop touching me,” you beg.

Her face softens, “Oh, it’s been so long, hasn’t it?” The question leaves Jill, now comprehending your reaction to her touch. 

You nod. Jill brings her hands up, holding your face. 

“Yeah. Me, too,” she whispered.

You meet in the middle, lips melding together. 

Noises created simultaneously at the unity long in creation, neither one of your grasps on the other faltering. 

Desperation fills the two of you, pulling and tugging at each other’s clothes, the yearning to be as close as possible overwhelming both of your senses. You find yourselves laying across the couch, Jill’s heat engulfing you. 

“Fuck,” Jill grits out between a reprieve for breath, “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long. Wish I could come home to you everyday.” Her rambling is like honey to your heart, sweetness pouring in to make it full once again. 

“I need you, please, Jill,” you whine, guiding her hand underneath your clothing, her hand cupping your pussy through underwear, the crotch coated with wetness. 

“God damn,” Jill moans out, feeling your clit jump at her touch, rock hard. 

Your hips lift to meet her touch, seeking more of that divine feeling. You feel her own hardness pressing against your inner thigh, her hips rocking against your plush skin. 

“I gotta, fuck, need to,” she rambles once more, hastily undressing you from the waist down, exposing your cunt to her. 

Jill bites her lip, hands holding your legs at the back of your knees, pushing your legs apart to have a good look. 

You hide your face, biting your lip and she gazes upon your sex, only the second person to do so. 

One hand travels down, and Jill takes her thumb and pulls at one side of your lips, opening your hole up and seeing how wet you’ve become by so little. 

“Can I taste you?” Jill asks, nearly begs, her voice higher pitch, akin to a whine. 

You nod, a yes leaves your lips and not a second more is Jill’s mouth latched onto you, tongue dragging up your folds and sucking your clit into her mouth. 

The feeling claws through you and a cry claws its way out as your back arches, and Jill pushes your knees up against your chest, angling your pussy to her desire. 

Your fingers interlock with her silken strands, pulling as her mouth works along you, her moans of pleasure at just merely tasting you sending jolts along your spine.

‘Oh God, she’s so fucking good at this’ is the last coherent thought in your mind before two of her fingers slide in and immediately hit the most sublime spot. 

Your brain, full of static now as she crooks her fingers and bobs her head, your eyes rolling back.

Jill milks your cunt, squirting onto her face as she encourages you, “Fuck yeah, baby.” “Keep going.” “So good for me.” “Let it all out.”

Your thighs twitch, a sign you’re close. Like a mantra, you’re begging her to “Keep going please I’m so close oh God I’m about to cum!”

She pulls away with a pop, her fingers leaving simultaneously with her mouth. You’re about to scream before she interrupts, “No, not yet. I want you to cum around my cock.”

Oh Lord. You snap your head up as she rips her shirt and bra off, unzips her pants. Pushing her panties down, her dick springs free. 

You whimper at the sight, your hips having a mind of their own as they lift off the cushion towards her. 

Jill groans at the image of your body, yearning for her’s. She grabs your thighs, pulling you down towards her once more. 

She guides her cock to your entrance, dragging it through the mess you’ve made, prodding at your throbbing clit. 

You’re sobbing at the point, nails biting into her upper arms as you beg her to slide inside you, but she seems to be having a lot of fun teasing you. Where did that earlier desperation go?

You know what’ll bring it back. 

“Jill, please,” you cry, “Make me yours.”

A choked noise comes from her throat, body going rigid at your words. 

“Oh fuck, you’re mine. Say it,” Jill growls out, her tip beginning to press into you. 

“Yours, all yours, Jill!”

She slides all the way to the hilt, her hips flush against your ass, the two of you exclaiming at the feeling of one other. 

You bask in the glory of being one, savoring the way her cock throbs inside you, and Jill at the way you clench against her. 

You move as one, her pulling back and thrusting in, moans punched out of you both.

Skin smacking against each other echoes throughout Jill’s apartment. You pull her closer, lips colliding and teeth clacking together, messy and fervent, tongues tangled. 

Jill’s hand reaches between, fingers seeking out and grabbing hold of your clit, rubbing in time with her plunging into your pussy. 

The familiar twitching is back, and you beg her to keep going, to please let me cum this time I need it so bad please give it to me!

“Cum for me baby, look at me when you fall apart.”

And you do. 

Your orgasm pulsates throughout your body, wave after wave of rapture sings through your veins as you hold her gaze and yell her name, legs trembling in her grip. 

Your falling apart is her undoing, her movements faltering as her climax cascades over her senses. She chokes out your name, her eyes never leaving yours as her cum fills you, leaking out around your connection. 

You pull her down on top of you, holding on to her tightly. She holds you back just as much, forehead against yours.

You ease back to earth together, gulping in as much air as possible. Jill kisses your cheek, your nose, your lips. You sigh and begin to grin, looking up at her. 

Jill’s heart skips a beat. 

Your cheeks are stained with the blood that flooded them, hair in disarray, sweat making your skin look dewy and shine under the light of the lamp.

God, you’re lovely.

Your eyes flutter, lips part. Oh, that was said aloud. 

“Uh, sorry I meant to say that to myself, didn’t mean to—“

You sit up and pull Jill into a kiss, one full of passion and maybe something more, a promise. 

Jill sits up and slips out of you, thankful she has leather seats as she sees the mess left behind from your lovemaking. 

Lovemaking. It echoes through Jill’s mind.

She helps you up and guides you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub and grabbing a cloth to wash the two of you off. 

Once cleaned off, she picks you up and lays you down with her against silken sheets, the blue of them contrasting with her eyes.

Limbs tangled, the two of you lay on your sides facing another, taking in each other once more. 

Jill cups your cheek, asking, “Was that good revenge sex?”

You laugh and nod, “Absolutely wonderful,” you say, turning to kiss her palm. 

Jill pauses for a moment, searching your eyes as she says your name.

“Can it be more than that?” 

Your eyes widen, surprised by her question. 

“I…want it to be. I really do,” you whisper, your own hand reaching out to her, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

“Then let it. This doesn’t have to be a one time thing. We can go slow, whatever you need. You deserve someone who cares, who wants you, who desires you.” Her words leave her mouth with confidence, her face reflecting the same emotion, 

Your heart aches at her words. You don’t know when things went wrong with your spouse, but this here, with Jill, feels so right.

“Stay with me,” Jill says.

You nod, “‘m not leaving,” you reply, burying your face into her neck. 

Jill smiles, kissing your head.

“Good.”

[vaguely-concerned]

I listened to the first episode of vows and vengeance and... god. god forget waiting for veilguard, how the fuck am I going to survive the wait between each episode of this???? tl;dr: I loved it, I love dragon age, I love audio dramas, I love voice acting and music, I love thedas, I am IMMEDIATELY painfully invested. if nadia doesn't get her sweet fancy lad back whole and unharmed by the end of this I am killing everyone in tevinter and then myself.

more thoughts under the cut! not a lot of deep analysis just flailing and feelings today haha

I hadn't realized that elio would be a magister! idk if it was in any marketing beforehand, but if so I didn't pay enough attention to remember it lol. he sounds like he might be prime lucerni-material politically, so I'm a little sad we didn't get even a subtle dorian or maevaris easter egg in there, as far as I could tell, but hey, you can't have everything. (honestly unless BIG changes are upon us (which tbf they probably are) it might be just as well that this went down as it did, b/c I'm not sure how long elio would survive in the magisterium that we've heard tell of, he's quite -- either soft and shortsighted, or politically reckless, I think nadia was right there.)

I found nadia, elio and their dynamic very effectively introduced -- the fact that they haven't quite figured out how to be good to each other yet but so clearly both desperately want to be and are willing to work for that is a smart place to start the story. it makes it feel all the sadder if they never get the chance to work it all out, because I think they could have every chance to, given the time.

The voice actors for the central characters are all wonderful (orin's was. fine! doing a good enough job with a slightly more thankless role, let's call it that.) also so nice to hear people humming the tavern songs we heard in inquisition. god I love thedas I'm so glad we're getting to go right back in there soon

The episode was longer than I thought they would get, and it was all the better for it! I'm so happy it seems they'll get the space they need to tell this story, especially since nadia appears to be setting out on quite a continent-spanning odyssey here (I'm so sorry about your life nadia)

SOLAS solas solas! solas. solas!!!! he is such a BITCH and I love him so much. he is being aggressively himself and I didn't realize just how much I'd missed him. no one gets me frustrated quite like you baby you know better than this I KNOW you could know better than this why do you never learn a single thing I know you have the capacity somewhere in there. patron saint of endlessly fucking up. WHERE do you get off being condescending to nadia when all your ~*brilliant*~ plans backfire catastrophically on you every single time solas. yeah of course you're sorry, and you fucking better be, if she stabbed you I'd be sad but also like 'yeah I mean you had that one coming sorry ¯\_(ツ)_/¯' about it!!! what the fuck. come home please

such a weird feeling to have him be an ominous stranger on the road to elio and nadia while I was standing there with my arms crossed and my foot tapping irritably like 'oh so now he shows his face, there he is. my husband. my ex-husb -- my nemesis and poor little meo -- it's complicated alright. he's in the dog house, but the dog house he's in is still mine'. I do adore how unstoppably solas clearly wants to be a teacher, he works so hard to be mysterious and aloof but the lonely insufferable chatterbox knowitall jumps out at every turn.

neve trying and almost succeeding in freezing the whole bay I'm

like. okay then! much to think about

the only thing I'm not a big fan of is the characters calling out in-game spells in sort of a self-indulgent way, but hell if I know how else you'd communicate exactly what's going down magically in an audio format like this so y'know. very easily forgiven from my side honestly

[safetycar-restart]

Shels welcome back i’ve missed you so much! i’m so so excited and filled with ideas. i feel like we need to talk about little!Lando after his crash in Vegas? i feel like as soon as he was out of the hospital and back in the hotel he would just slip immediately and it’s so sad because his birthday was supposed to be fun but he got in a crash but you’re there to pick him up and cuddle him and tell him it’s gonna be okay? just a thought lol

🔙🦴anon

Aw yes we have to discuss this!! I know this GP was last week, but this idea should absolutely be discussed any way. I'm also really vibing with the little drivers lately, so this is great.

I actually think Lando would feel himself start to slip the moment he gets told he'll have to go to the hospital? He's fine until then, disappointed and sore of course, but he's fine. He hasn't seen you yet, having been taken straight to the medical centre.

And now they're telling him he has to go straight to the hospital? That is when he starts to feel fear creeping up, because that means it could be serious.

He has his trainer with him, but when he asks if you can come with him, they refuse? They say only a few team members can come and that they don't have time to find you.

That's when he starts to feel himself wanting to slip, because now he's scared and lonely and he just desperately wants to hold your hand and have you tell him it'll all be okay.

It's a nightmare after that because the hospital is so loud and so bright and people are saying such big words to him and he's so confused. Of course his trainer tries to help, but there's no one other than you that can offer him the comfort he needs.

You wait anxiously to hear any news, and thankfully they tell you quickly that all the checks were fine. You want to head to the hospital, of course, but realistically that would take hours with how much traffic there is, and you soon hear Lando is heading back to the circuit so you just wait for him.

Poor Lando just wants to cry on the way back to the track, curling up in a little ball in the ambulance and sniffling because he's just so sad and so uncomfortable. His whole body hurts, and to hear he went to the hospital for nothing? It's even sadder.

And it's his birthday!! Worst birthday ever.

You're waiting for him in his driver room when he gets back, and maybe he actually refuses your hug? He's seconds away from slipping and he knows if he hugs you, he won't be able to stop it. He has to stay big long enough to talk to his team and get back to the hotel, he can't afford to slip before then.

Luckily talking to his team is quick and soon he's on his way back to the hotel with you. You sit in the back of the car with him, holding this hand the whole way there.

And the moment he enters his hotel room, he slips into little space and slips bad. Almost instantly you've got a crying little on your hands.

He throws himself into your arms, clinging to you and crying so hard he can barely breath, in a full blown meltdown brought about by how sore and tired and sad he is. Unfortunately there's very little you can do about any of those things, so you just hold him tight and rub his back, letting him cry himself out.

Eventually he calms down enough for you to realise he's whispering something between tears, mumbling 'it's not fair' over and over again against your chest. Your heart just breaks for him because he's right, it isnt fair and there's nothing you can do about it.

You get him into the bath after his meltdown, washing him with his favourite soap (it's strawberry scented) and then getting him into his comfiest PJs. Maybe putting a diaper on as well? You arent sure how young he's regressed to and you don't want to take any risks.

He's so sad and quiet for the rest of the night, nothing like the happy outgoing little boy he usually is. Instead he clings to you as he sucks his pacifier.

You decide to give him some warm milk before bed, and it turns out to be right call because he relaxes in your arms so nicely, drinking his milk and then snuggling against you for a much needed rest.

You'll celebrate his birthday properly tomorrow.

[oc-tournaments]

ROUND ONE - MATCH 11

HARI FORLORN vs SALVANAN

HARI FORLORN: @aimless-aimz

SALVANAN: @the-demoness-next-door

VOTE BASED ON THE INFORMATION BELOW CUT!!

Propaganda Content Warnings: Generational trauma, physical abuse, child death for HARI. Abuse, manipulation, suicidal thoughts for SALVANAN.

HARI FORLORN:

PROPAGANDA: GENERATIONAL TRAUMAAA!!! all he was to his father was just 'a project', as his father had his OWN issues; and his mom was strict. ....abusively strict, so he'd "learn"; this included inflicted oil burns, whippings, and verbal barrages.

and then he died at 6 years old in a snowstorm running away from his mother who snapped and tried to strangle than beat him to death! lol. he was so pissed, that is 6 year old soul became a vengeful spirit, and just a month later when he turned 7 he went back to his grave and took his body back!

he desperately clings to his humanity, but being dead kinda screwed him up! he's always cold, no matter what, and is riddled with his childhood scars + frostbite from his death (which he is very insecure about both). He was never loved until he was picked up and Taken by friendos, and i mean now he has a girlfriend which is cool (she also is fucked up)!!

he has awful anxiety disorders and PTSD. soggy cat of a boy. And i have a future event for him planned! he goes to his father's hometown and sees him again. he will have a mental breakdown.

he actually is a rotomblr blog i have (hes a pkmn oc!! his best friend is a lampent named maru who's a sweetheart!!) and his user is " haunting-hari " so check that out if you wanna loll/nf

THEME SONG:

SALVANAN:

PROPAGANDA: this poor man. buckle in, you have a LONG one coming. he's very old, he's the god of plants + the earth and he's great i love him but man i have not been nice to him. so. way early in his life, he had a very sweet boyfriend named azyll along w lots of mutual friends. except oops, sal developed chronic anxiety and depression and decided that he did not think he would be good for azyll and broke it off w him. it was amicable but it still sucks. fast forward a bit, one of the friends in their circle, jekath, is being manipulated and hurt for no reason and sal knows but for magic reasons he's incapable of telling anyone, just has to watch. and then he eventually has to watch jekath finally snap under the pressure and betray them all and go evil. no bueno. so he spends a long time feeling terrible and eventually he plans to just. yknow. off himself. but oh surprise this little boy named safari shows up in his garden! and he's like well shit guess im a dad now. and he loves this little boy very much.

it's good times! except when he's a teenager two of the little boy's biological brothers drop him off a cliff and nearly kill him, which is, yknow, terrifying. that's his son! his son was almost murdered! no! bueno! anyway, azyll's mortal so eventually he dies of old age, now sal's even sadder. least he's still got his other friends and safari but Man. anyway fast forward again, whole world is at war. and his two best friends, arona and morana, both die in it. but if that was not bad enough, arona was killed by jekath. you know, the old friend that was abused and eventually betrayed them all. so the friend he felt like he failed has now murdered one of his best friends. and his other best friend is ALSO dead. things are just going Great. flash forward another little while and his goddaughter's husband, sibrum, goes evil against his will too.

he's known sibrum since he was a kid so now he's got ANOTHER person he felt responsible for gone evil against their will. then sibrum's daughter dies. are you seeing a pattern yet. anyway, sibrum soon kills jekath so now sal feels like he's double failed both of them and also even MORE of his original friends are dead now. so he is trying So Hard to relax! but then safari is turned into a terrible person against his will too! and because they were so so close for so so long they end up in a toxic dynamic instead of cutting each other off. sal finally figures out how to break the spell on safari and it's all Okay Now (they're both traumatized and it's definitely not okay). he gets to relax for only a brief time before his other child's son, volta, has a villain arc too. and what happens? you guessed it! sal tries to stop him and help him and he's not able to. and feels like he failed someone AGAIN. yeah this just happens over and over through the course of his life. he's so tired and sad man

THEME SONG:

[woodsfae]

B5 s04e02 Whatever Happened To Mr Garibaldi?  previous episode - table of contents

Hm, I don't remember Dr Franklin getting a voiceover episode before. He sounds so detatched. Nine days since Sheridan was presumed dead and Garibaldi disappeared, and the League has dissolved as everyone split back to their homeworlds. 

Lennier being a real g, coming to get help for Delenn. She isn't handling Sheridan's presumed death well, I imagine.

Sheridan is also not handling his presumed death well. Trapped in a tunnel with a member of a mystery species who constantly discourages one from escaping would be a major downer. 

"If I tell you my name is Lorien...." says the person who also projects on Sheridan that he's upset the alien (Lorien?) won't tell Sheridan his name. 

He will tell Sheridan that Sheridan's dead, though. And he doesn't have a pulse, so Lorien must be correct about that. It would be very irritating to be dead, feel alive, and then also be trapped in some kind of purgatory with Lorien. Tells you what you think, what you question, refuses to answer those questions, makes some more annoying statements. 

Lorien seems like...some sort of entity that lives in/is Z'Ha'Dum? But doesn't really seem to be a Shadow or aligned with them. Definitely not a plot point I saw coming.  

G'Kar is seeking some information from a salvage reseller on Garibaldi. The reseller found his Starfury, but all G'Kar got out of him before the ruckus was that he got a tip. 

So Garibaldi doesn't have a mode of transportation, wherever he is being held. 

Delenn thinks it's her fault that Sheridan died and the alliance fell apart. She's really beating herself up for never mentioning to Sheridan that theoretically, his wife could be alive. But really, he was told. He knew that no one would survive unless they turned to the Shadows, and that Anna would never help destroy the galaxy. Ergo, Anna's dead. 

"I should have loved him less and trusted him more," sadder words never spoke. 

Marcus and G'Kar seem to be somewhere else than B5. I did wonder if G'Kar was actually leaving on his search. I thought Franklin was leaving on his walk but he was just doing laps on the space station. 

G'Kar and Marcus have a sad little heart-to-heart while they're hiding out from the officials.

G'Kar: I came because Garibaldi is the only friend I've got who isn't Narnuan. Marcus: Ouch, well, I came because you're my only Narnuan friend and btw most of my friends are dead. 

The bartender's only question when informed that G'Kar has a bounty for alive or dead is to ask which one is higher. But before he can do anything about it, Marcus has kidnapped him for an interrogation! da da dum. 

Dr Franklin is much better at being reassuring when he isn't hitting on his patient. Unfortunate that was a plotline for him more than once, lol. 

Awww. Delenn gets a moment of happiness, watching one of Sheridan's personal logs where he talks about how much he loves her. 

G'Kar sent Marcus away to find out who Montagne is - the information he learned from the bartender - and immediately gets shot and captured by the officials...wherever G'Kar is. 

Delenn has been reinvigorated and is planning a new initiative with some hardy volunteers who aren't put-off by her extremely suicidal plan to attack Z'Ha'Dum. 

"As a dear friend said to me: "If you're falling off a mountain, you might as well try to fly...""

Ma'am you got that from Sheridan's diary personal log.

Londo is an excellent suck-up. 

ahaha, that's such a tiny bell th Emperor keeps around. 

G'Kar has been delivered to the Emperor, who is gifting him (gag) to Londo. 

Huh. G'Kar is dedicated to his task of find Garibaldi...he asks the Emperor if he knows where Garibaldi is! 

Flash to Garibaldi - imprisoned and being interrogated. What happened after he was removed From Babylon 5? He refuses to answer and also wrecks his cell before being gassed out. That tracks for him. 

Londo, somewhat compassionately, lays out the situation for G'Kar. He says he would have killed G'Kar with dignity if he was tired of living, but since he left B5, made himself vulnerable, and was captured, he'll be tortured for days or months, then surgically disassembled while being kept alive and conscious as long as possible. 

And then he says that G'Kar may be the means he has been waiting for to remove the Emperor. But G'Kar will certainly suffer greatly before it can be manuevered. That's not much comfort thanks, Londo. 

Does G'Kar get to go down in history as the Narn who killed two consecutive Centauri Emperors?! That's badass if so, unfortunate about the past and upcoming torture. 

G'Kar says he'll do it if Londo makes the Centauri withdraw from Narn afterwards. And Londo gives his word. 

Something tells me the Shadows are going to possess him and not let him do it? 

Back to Sheridan - back to where he started by his fire in the cave where he woke up. Lorien tells him to give up, but Sheridan' won't give up. Lorien, who claims to be not one of the first ones, but the first one of the elder beings that disappeared. He says he's been waiting for someone to talk to but that Sheridan is the first one to make it that far. 

He also says the Shadows come to Z'Ha'Dum because of him, and they think they're paying respect. That's so funny, tho. 

Lore drop from Lorien continues. Vorlons can break off pieces of their consciousnesses and attach them to other beings and thereby travel in multiple places throughout the galaxy. Lorien says he and Kosh both need to give up and die. 

Sheridan says he won't, because people depend on him. Lorien insists that he isn't pursuing life, he's fleeing death, so he has to give up and accept death so he can live. 

It's. Alright as a plotline I guess. But the paradoxical life/death thing is mostly just funny. He's reassuring Sheridan into accepting death by promising he'll try to keep Sheridan alive. Which...seems to contradict the requirement that he accept death. How can he give in, if he's clinging to hope? 

Eh, I guess I'll find out.

the legend continues...

[destinyc1020]

My Movie Review: "A Quiet Place: Day One" 🤫

**Caution...May Contain Some Spoilers**

Hey everyone! I'm back with another movie review! 😁

Soo.... I had the chance to catch "A Quiet Place: Day One" in theaters this weekend, and here are my thoughts! First of all, this is one summer blockbuster that I was definitely looking forward to on my list! My friends and I had all seen Parts 1 and 2, so we were definitely excited to see how it all began. 😊

PROS

First of all, can I just say?? I LOVE Lupita Nyong'o. 😊 Anytime I see her onscreen, I'm reminded of just how great of an actress she is! She always shines bright in every role she's given, and she's extremely believable. You could literally feel her fear, shock, terror, and sadness throughout this film! This woman definitely earned her Oscar win years ago (just sorry that it was for that slave movie 😒), and I'm always excited to see what new projects she does next.

Djimon Hounsou is another one.... Anytime he's in a movie, I KNOW his acting is not going to disappoint lol. 😅 It was cool finally getting to see both Lupita and Djimon in a film together. It's just such a shame that they shared such little screen time together. 🥴

The acting was great in this. Everyone did a great job and pulled their own weight.

The music was beautiful in this film. I listen to musical scores in films (I'm a geek, I know lol 😜) and it was very moving.

I loved the chemistry between Lupita's character and Joseph Quinn's character. I had never seen any of his films before (at least, I don't think so? 🤔), so it was nice seeing him onscreen and witnessing his interactions with Lupita. Their chemistry wasn't even anything romantic or sexual onscreen, but they had really great platonic chemistry together! 😊

CONS

I must say.... I think I was expecting this film to be a little more scary than it actually was lol? 😅 I was bracing myself to be pretty scared like I was for the first two films, but all in all, the film wasn't really all that scary?? There were some great jump scares throughout, but nothing that really had me getting creeped out, or reaching for my friend's sleeve lol. 😅

This movie was actually a lot sadder than I thought it would be? Idk if that was a pro or a con lol, but I guess I was expecting it to be more action, but in reality, it was quite slow-moving....and sad. The end especially was kind of sad. 😢 Don't get me wrong, it was a very beautifully-shot film, and it really was touching, but a film that you're thinking is mainly going to be about aliens invading turns out to be more about grief, death, and moving on from the past. 😢

I was definitely entertained with this film, but I feel like I didn't really learn much about the aliens? I thought in this film (since it's a prequel) we were going to learn a little more about WHY they invaded, what they were after, and maybe a little more backstory? I guess my assumption was all wrong lol. 😅

OVERALL

Overall, this is a fun movie if you just want to go out and have some fun with your friends. Although I didn't find it all that "scary" (and I'm usually a scaredy cat lol 😅), there are quite a few jump scares and "gotcha!" moments in the film to keep you thrilled and entertained. I would say that this film was more suspenseful than it was "scary". The film was really enjoyable though! That's all I ask from a movie honestly lol.

I wish I had been warned that this film was more sad than it was scary lol. It was beautifully shot, and the way it handles death, grief, and the loss of a loved one is great. Lupita, Joseph, and Djimon all do some superb acting in this one, so if you're a fan of either of them, then by all means, go check this one out! 😁 Lupita especially is so good of an actress. I love the fact that she ventures out of the usual norm and isn't afraid to do horror films, thriller films, suspense films, etc....all genres that historically, black women have usually been missing in. So, I like that she takes risks and isn't afraid to do those types of films, even though she's already an Oscar Winner. 😁

This film waws NOT directed by Jon Krasinski, and I think I could tell lol. I know he was busy filming something else, so he couldn't direct this one (which is fine). I kind of think that the small-town aspect made the other two films way more scary than the NYC setting. I know it makes sense since the city is way louder than the country lol, but you know what I mean lol....

OVERALL SCORE: 7.5/10

[tears0fsatan]

                ♰          ・        𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇!

✦ ⊹ ˚˖ warnings... dead dove do not eat, gn!reader, spoilers for lesson 35 whoops, brief stalking mention, scent kink, established relationship, obsession, body horror, unhealthy attachment to a corpse

 :¨·.·¨ ♥︎  a.n... I'M FINALLY WRITING SOMETJIMG FOR MY NUMBER ONE BABYGIRL CAN I GET A WAHOOO??!???!! BONUS BECAUSE SHES WEIRD!! AND A LITTLE UNSETTLING!!! (this turned out sadder and more romantic than i thought lol oops) srry that this is so latebtw i've been doing uh teenager stuff lol <3

 #﹏𖣠ㅤHEART SHAPED HICKIES MASTERLISTㅤ. . . ㅤ !! ( ☠️ )

from the very moment she had caught a whiff of your scent in her lair, thirteen was hooked. it didn't take a genius or a powerful existence to sniff out the stench of other living beings that had trespassed her den. amongst the familiar smell of demons and that pesky sorcerer, yours had stuck out like a sore thumb, so much so that all thoughts regarding your illegal trespassing flew out her mind.

perhaps it was because she was a reaper, but she could practically taste the life that seeped into your scent. for someone who was neither dead nor alive, hell was it addictive.

she just had to seek you out, there was no way someone brimming with so much life could escape her grasp now that she had her sights on you. whenever she wasn't busy watching the life candles or coming up with new fun trap ideas, she couldn't resist the temptation to follow and watch your every move. after all, when would another human who smelt so good and wasn't a sham of a sorcerer come down to devildom and pique her interest like you did? she needed to have you, needed to trap you somewhere where only she could see you, where only she could be with you.

there were nights she found herself craving you and your scent, despite her plan still in the works. there moments where the thought of leaving all her work behind, to sneak in your room and take you away with her and live out the rest of your lives together (or more so, your life..). an itch to steal the clothing she saw you wore often made her feel restless, but she was nothing if not patient and told herself she'd wait until she was closer to you.

eventually, the two of you were bound to run into one another at RAD, but that moment didn't come nearly soon enough. so, the reaper took matters into her own hands. she waited for the moment you weren't surrounded by those clingy demons to make her move, making it seem as though it was completely coincidental and not carefully thought out on her part. gosh, you were so much cuter in person, she had fantasised the moment she could finally talk to you dozens of times and you went beyond all her expectations.

this was perfect; without realising, you were slowly playing into her trap. the reaper made sure to play up a facade, one that would keep you curious about her and have you coming back to find out more. she played the role of a trickster until you tied the strings of your heart around her marionette controller all on your own accord, swept away by the sweet words and barrage of attention from such a pretty, powerful being. she had you in the palm of her hand and you were more than alright with it.

there was an ornate fear that constricted thirteens heart, or at least a reaper's equivalent of one, something she feared for more than anything else in all three realms. as a reaper, she was far too aware of how short human lifespans were and how much shorter it would be around her and it terrified her. now that she had you in her grasp, she couldn't afford to lose you. there were unspoken lengths she was willing to go in order to keep you next to her, even if it meant breaking the laws of the three realms.

while humans were satisfied with a life together until death parted them, for a reaper, even death wouldn't be enough to part ways. being surrounded by death, the very being that watched over every human from the second their flame lit to the moment their light blew out, it was hard to form an attachment when such lives were fickle and could go out at any given moment. thirteen knew that, she knew that one gust of wind could easily put an end to you and everything you had lived for and so she wanted to cherish what short time she had left with you.

the day you died, many souls died with you. the reaper lost all control and threw a rage, at the other living beings who wouldn't understand her pain and at the world for making her kind so detrimental to human life. it was unfair, unfair how you had just started out your life and now you were gone, unable to spend many more of your firsts with thirteen. she didn't even have the chance to show you just how much she loved you.

not a day went by where thirteen didn't take care of your body, washing your body with extra care and dressing you in your favourite clothes, keeping your appearance the same as it was the day you died. even as your flesh began to turn all sorts of hues, she still thought you looked as beautiful as the day she lost you.

your body, now lifeless and cold, a mere shell of the human you once were, could no longer support the weight of your head and slumped forward onto thirteen's shoulder whenever she would pick you up. the reaper held onto every inch of your being left, afraid that if she let even a hair shed, your entire existence would cease to exist, as if you had never been here in the first place.

your eyes were always something she adored, something that left her speechless and the first time she got to see them up close and in person, she was left in awe. by now, she's stared at you long enough to determine that yes, stars do swim in your eyes, and never missed the opportunity to go stargazing. even after your eyes became blurry after your death, they never lost that sparkle that she fell in love with in the first place.

how could she resist pulling you into her arms and dance along to inaudible music when you looked so beautiful? even though your skin was icy to the touch and your joints refused to move from the rigor mortis, she still enjoyed holding you close and swaying to an unknown rhythm. especially on nights when the moonlight would peer into her lair and cast a shadow on your features that just ever so slightly make you appear alive, she would dance until the sun took the moons place and brought her back to reality.

nevertheless, until the moment she reaped her last soul, she would continue to love you and keep you by her side, no matter the cost.

© 2023 TEARS0FSATAN. please don’t translate, modify, repost or plagiarise my works anywhere.

[risingshards]

Me reading Marvel Ultimate comics turns into a tangent about Paul

I've been on a bit of a western comics kick lately and have been reading the new Ultimate Spider Man and Ultimate X Men series. I actually went to my local comic shop to get an issue! Fun! (Also meaning to get to the other new Ultimate series like Black Panther and uhh Ultimates? but ongoings are so expensive I gotta wait til they're cheaper) I've really been enjoying them! The last time I got into western comics was when House of X | Powers of X was going so I guess Hickman gets my attention a lot. Spider-Man raising kids with MJ and a heaping amount of trans allegory make USM a fun read, and Peach Momoko's X-Men is really unique and different.

But my recent curiosity has me looking up other ongoing comics and I've discovered this new character Paul in the other Spider-Man series who seems designed to be hated. (Now I'm not reading this one I'm getting this info secondhand so disclaimer I could be wrong about all of it).

Apparently after a time skip in that series (this is a different universe than USM) Peter and MJ are broken up and MJ is dating this dude. Fans HATE him. Just that as a character I could see, I've seen Spidey stuff where there's another guy MJ's with and Peter gets all angsty about that, but...this guy seems to be more than that? There's some backstory where he's the son of some evil scientist dimension guy and Paul apparently helped genocide a whole dimension? And the whole time the story is saying how he's better than Peter or something? This arc has been going on for years.

Is he a self insert, it would be kind of pathetic to have your coolguy date MJ and kind of hilarious. The author is said to be dealing with a divorce, so is this some like working through it kind of deal where the author is putting himself in Spider-Man's shoes and writing about how it feels to have his wife divorce him or something? That is...much sadder.

Like look at this fucking guy, he seems designed to be hated (and changes his design heavily every other page???). I giggle just looking at him, like what is going on with this guy.

I think the funniest answer would be that he's some kind of self insert gone horribly horribly wrong and they expected audiences to like this guy (let him get bitten by a spider and give him powers and his own spinoff in that case it'd be HILARIOUS), but my guess is that he's rage bait. Someone without a lot of thought put into them designed to make longtime readers that aren't going anywhere rage and talk about it.

The only mediums I've seen that actively rage bait their niche audiences so much are superhero comics and pro wrestling and the way they do it is very similar. It's as if they know the core audience isn't going anywhere so they think constantly pissing them off is the best way to keep engagement up in a "any reaction is a good reaction" type thing.

The comic Spidey fandom seems to really want MJ and Peter together, and Marvel comics folks seem to very much not want that, or think they make more money baiting people into thinking it's going to happen, which is like a wrestling company teasing a wrestler winning a title that the fans want to see happen only to pull the rug out from under them.

So it's interesting to compare the Ultimate series I'm reading which are really fun and rewarding, to one seemed actively designed to punish the reader.

The idea of writing something intended for the audience to disdain it is foreign to me. If I tried writing to piss my audience off, they'd just stop reading I think. But it is kind of morbidly fascinating to think about the process of having so much disdain for your audience that you'd write something like this. Like the mechanics of writing something designed to make people enraged is so antithetical to my writing (which at the very least starts with pleasing the audience of myself lol) that it becomes something fascinating, albeit in a "this is bad but I can't look away it's too funny" way.

[clara-aeri]

Love how you handled the different Zeldas in your Advent fic. And how you write Link in Rootsverse, it's exactly how I see him in this era. Do you have any thoughts about the other Links in other games? How they compare/contrast with botw/totk's Link?

Oh thank you!! 😊 Glad to hear that!!!

Boy do I have thoughts.

I guess- I should say that the way I wrote Link in Roots is definitely not how I’d imagine him to be in cannon. If only because I feel Nintendo values the self-insert aspect of the Zelda games too much to let the character stray very far from the “stoic hero” archetype. If anything, the Link I wrote in Undertow is the most similar to how I’d imagine his canon self to be- largely just due to how he doesn’t outright reject his responsibilities (pre calamity at least. I do subscribe to the idea that he’s much louder and funnier after losing his memories).

Agh- but anyway lol see my rambling below.

Starting with Ocarina of Time (OoT), that version of Link is definitely sadder than the others. He had a pretty good childhood, but his adult life fell apart in much more profound ways than the others’. He’d be as quiet as pre calamity botw Link. There might be a hint of the mischievous fairy kid still left in him, but very little. Lots of longing and disillusioned feelings that would maybe be best replicated in pre calamity Botw Link, yeah?

As for Twilight Princess (TP) Link, he’s a country guy 110%. I imagine he’d be too restless to go back to farming though- not after the world got so big. I assume he’d be a great guy to talk to, best with kids/animals, probably one of the most well adjusted after all his trials and a good pen pal to Zelda. He wouldn’t be as lively after losing Midna, definitely, but he’s doing leagues better than OoT Link. Probably has a much more dry, sarcastic sense of humor than Botw Link’s “He has a dumb belly” absurdist comedy.

Wind Waker (WW) Link- at a glance I’d almost say he’d get along with Botw Link, but after more thought I think WW Link would despise him. Botw Link would willingly eat rocks or stuff himself in an explosive barrel for jokes, but WW Link would either have to be tricked or forced into it. He seems… high anxiety. But also irritable. He has the most common sense out of all the Links and that is probably exactly what his problem is. I don’t know why, but I get the feeling that most animals would attack WW Link on sight because of his constant bad, exasperated energy.

As for Skyward Sword— lol I think he’s so funny. I think growing up with Zelda “the Goddess turned teenage girl” would have had an impact on him. By far he is the most stable, most extroverted version of Link, but I think there’s something about him that would make him unknowable. He’s so relaxed but upbeat at the same time, seems like he’s always up to something but nobody ever knows what since he’s always asleep. He doesn’t have a thought in his head but he’s so perceptive too just- he’s just odd. But cool. Botw Link’s extreme stoicism pre calamity and crazy behavior post calamity would both stand out a lot next to SS Link. Yet his relationship with Botw Zelda most closely resembles SS Link’s with his own.

I’m not very familiar with the other 3DS Links etc so I can’t say much about them. These are also the vibes I get from how I remember all these Links after 10 years of not playing their games, so I could be wrong in how I’ve described them for sure.

Lol either way thank you for asking! I was a fun question to think about! It makes me want to write a reverse Advent featuring all of them ugh 😭😂