#ugh. this was supposed to be a post about work but I can’t not think about Boytoy. he’s my everything

[dreamerlynx]

me, still sitting with my laptop open in my lap: okay so you’ve basically. gone over and summarized the instructions for the assignment. good. it’s been all day you want to try actually starting?

me immediately: no

[southislandwren]

Oooogh everything hurtssss

[flawseer]

Ok, these time rate me the Jade WInglets

I've been sitting on this work-in-progress picture for so many months now. Maybe if I post it here, I'll finally sit down and finish it.

Very long post incoming.

Discussing the Jade Winglet

Okay. So, you want me to rate the Jade Winglet group. That’s going to be very easy: I love all of them.

It’s also going to be extraordinarily hard because... well... I love all of them. How am I supposed to put them into an ordered list? It can’t be done. So I guess what I’m going to do is: First I will put them into a tier list, and then I’m going to just talk about each of them individually for a bit.

But on account of aforementioned adoration I have for all of these guys, said tier list is going to be very lopsided. The tiers are going to be “I adore them with the intensity of seven suns”, “I really like them”, and “I very much like them, but...”. You’re going to have to imagine that there are five or so more unused tiers below that.

Let’s unceremoniously get that ranking out of the way first. From top to bottom, the tiers are:

I adore Turtle, Qibli, and Winter.

I really like Moonwatcher, Kinkajou, and Peril.

I very much like Umber and Carnelian.

As for more in-depth commentary, here is a disclaimer: When I think about these guys I mostly consider books 6 (Moon Rising) to 9 (Talons of Power) and the first half of 10 (Darkness of Dragons). The second half of 10... if I’m being honest, I didn’t really enjoy it. I don’t want to go into it too much here, if you really want me to talk about my misgivings with the second arc finale, put a message about it in my inbox (it’s not just the obvious thing; it actually mostly pertains to Winter and the absolute nightmare ending he got saddled with, and some very unfortunate character implications).

Some of my musings are also going to be a bit critical. I just want it to be clear that I make these observations as a fan of the series. It’s a good practice to think critically even about media that you like. It helps you better understand why you like it in the first place. Also, I make no demands to be agreed with. This is just how I see it.

Anyway, enough stalling, let’s get into it. Not in order:

Turtle

CW: Parental abuse

Turtle is the most wonderful thing to ever happen in the history of the universe. I wake up every morning and the first thought in my head is “Ugh, another day in this backwards reality where Turtle is not real! No thanks!!” Then I go right back to sleep disappointed until the next day. Okay, maybe that’s a bit hyperbolic. But I do think that everyone’s lives would be greatly improved if Turtle was real.

Turtle is a very vibrant and insightful character who, much like Winter, is unfortunately cursed with a pair of malicious and incompetent "parents". Some of his scenes really hurt to get through if you’re a parent yourself or have ever had parental feelings. The first scene he is in, when Moon observes him arriving at the academy, his mother makes a passing comment about how Turtle has no value because he cannot inherit the throne. Turtle is within earshot when she does this. And he has no overt reaction to it, which to me hints that Coral asserts this about her male children so frequently that he has accepted her line of thinking and internalized it. He just accepts it as the truth. That is heartbreaking.

And then there is his father, mild-mannered and ostensibly gentle Gill, who killed Turtle’s budding interest in writing as well as the entirety of his self-confidence back when he was a kid, by assigning a little boy a task that was well beyond him (and only to him, even though there were more people present who could have helped), and then made him believe he killed his unborn sister when Turtle inevitably couldn’t do what he was asked. The narrative really tries to make Gill sympathetic in that moment by insisting he’s speaking in anger and doesn’t really mean it, but um, no. I don’t buy it, dude. You just gave a little kid a lifelong guilt complex because you couldn’t think of asking more people for help. Or taking the egg with you while you left the hatchery. Or telling Turtle to take a message to the palace guard so someone who didn’t still have their milk teeth could mount a proper, organized search while interim guards were posted in the hatchery. Or literally any of the thousands of other options that didn’t require traumatizing your own son.

As a result, Turtle became emotionally reclusive. He registers to others as dull, placid, unpassionate, and boring, like he cares about nothing and is content to never strive for or achieve anything in his life. He himself explains that writing used to be something he was into at some point, but then lost interest in. But I don’t think he has. He still loves literature and thinking about stories, he's still doing it in his internal monologue. He just denies it because he subconsciously feels the need to punish himself. I imagine he still gets that drive sometimes, to sit down and start writing again. But every time he thinks about it, or catches himself wanting anything, his father’s voice resurfaces in his mind, telling him that he killed his sister and doesn’t deserve it. And then he self-punishes by depriving himself of everything he loves doing and every positive emotion associated with it. Because he is convinced he is guilty for failing his father, when in actuality, the opposite is true.

The tragedy is that, if Gill had known how much damage he caused and wasn’t in a situation where he needed a flowchart to keep his 30+ sons apart, he probably would have apologized. He doesn’t strike me as malicious, just horribly, horribly incompetent as a parent. But as things played out, Gill is no longer able to fix his mistake. The only person who can now grant Turtle the forgiveness he needs is himself. I hope he will be able to do it.

Turtle truly is an endearing character and a wonderful son undeserved by his parents. If I could adopt him right now I would. In fact, I’m gonna do it. Hold on while I get the papers. Wait, I have to finish? Uh... okay.

Moonwatcher

In a sense, Moonwatcher may be the most interesting character in the entire cast. She certainly had the potential to be my favorite character period. But there are a few points holding her back.

The thing about Moonwatcher is that, more than any other character, she requires meticulous care and attention to detail to be written well. The reason for this is that, when you’re writing for Moon, you also technically write for every character she interacts with. She is written brilliantly in her own book, since the narrative is allowed to focus on her; Moon Rising may thus actually be my favorite book of the second arc. It’s very enrapturing, seeing her navigate the academy’s social dynamics after growing up as, essentially, a feral jungle child, and battling with her own feelings of loneliness and inadequacy.

The thing is though... Wings of Fire has a bit of an odd quirk. Something I’ve noticed with regards to its writing is that, whenever a character is not particularly in focus during a scene, they often get reduced to their most basic traits and will rigidly act according to them regardless of prior context or external factors. I call this phenomenon “Auto-pilot”. If you’ve read my Mail Call #3, this is what I think happened to Tsunami during the second arc—Tsunami’s basic traits are that she is bossy, emotional, and blunt, so she spends the entirety of her page time as a deep-sea-themed wrecking ball who yells at everyone and dismisses everything as “ugh, nightwing powers” and “Peril was bad in book 1 once, I hate her forever”, despite having other, more pressing matters to prioritize.

Whenever Moonwatcher gets set to auto-pilot, it is very depressing. She needs careful, attentive writing to shine, and whenever she doesn’t get it she turns from the most interesting character into a dull brick that recites exposition and occasionally exists to be fawned after by boys. Tragically, the auto-pilot hits her bad after Winter’s book is done, and she never manages to escape it afterwards, save for maybe one or two scenes. There is a particularly egregious example in book 10 that, in my opinion, does permanent, irreversible damage to her character. It’s all a bit soul-crushing if dwelt on.

So yeah, I like Moonwatcher. I really do. I just wish the strong way she was written could have carried through the entire arc.

Winter

CW: Parental abuse

I initially didn’t really know what to make of Winter when I read Moon’s book. He seemed kind of like a buttface who was needlessly hostile and unapproachable. But he really comes into his own in his book, and looking back at his earlier scenes with that new context makes it all make sense. He became one of my stand-out favorites after that.

Winter really has a lot in common with Turtle, so much so that I wish those two actually had some deeper interactions with each other. Like, at one point Turtle saves his life, you’d think they would want to talk about that some time. Where Turtle’s parents are one half malicious, one half incompetent, Winter’s are pure malice AND incompetence. Blessed with three children, they managed to completely ruin one of them, almost ruin the other, and then the third one is kind of out of focus so I don’t know how he is faring, but I doubt there is a lot of love there either.

In a way, you can draw a lot of parallels between Winter and Icicle, and Zuko and Azula from Avatar: The Last Airbender—The unfavorite who tries to do right but constantly fails to live up to his father’s/parents' warped standards, and the prodigy who seemingly has her father’s/parents' approval but secretly suffers from the abusive parenting just as much, but in different ways. Hailstorm then tries to take on the role of Iroh, an older figure that acts as a source of positivity and genuine love, and offers a reprieve from the abuse. But where Iroh is an adult drawing from a lifetime of wisdom, Hailstorm is just the slightly older sibling who comes from the same abusive household battling the same demons, so his effectiveness in countering the toxicity is limited.

Where Zuko pursues honor, Winter strives to be strong. Both his parents and his sister perceive him as weak and label him irrelevant. While this hurts him deeply, I don’t think Winter fully surrendered to his inferiority complex until he heard his brother mirror the same sentiment at him. Winter is repressed and struggles with processing his emotions—Thus he heard the words Hailstorm only said to save his life and took them at face value. Even the person he loves the most, the only source of affection and affirmation in his life, thinks he is weak. This is what drives Winter to feverishly desire strength and thus adopt a persona of the strongest thing he knows: a stoic Icewing warrior.

This is why he acts the way he does in book 6: aloof, threatening, unapproachable, invincible. But all of these traits are diametrically opposed to his actual personality, which is warm, compassionate, and just wanting to be loved for who he is. So whenever Moon reads his mind, he comes across as a confused mess of conflicting emotions. Because he is pretending to be something he isn’t.

The interesting thing here is that Winter actually is genuinely strong. He is just unable to recognize his own worth, due to the toxic way royal Icewings are raised, warping his perception of what strength means. When he meets Foeslayer, who is said to be an ancient enemy of his people, his mind cuts through the veneer of tradition and old bullshit justifications and sees her imprisonment for the cruel injustice that it is. He then undoes that injustice and frees her. It takes an incomprehensible amount of personal integrity and willpower to just casually defy the will of your entire country like that. This is equivalent to treason; by aiding her, Winter risks becoming an enemy of his people on par with Foeslayer herself. And he does it anyway, because it is the right thing to do.

This dissonance in his perception of strength with regards to his Icewing upbringing, and the actual strength he embodies and has embodied all this time, is something I would have liked to see explored more in the finale or something. As it stands now, he got pressured into putting his life on the line in the battle for Jade Mountain, has sworn loyalty to a people that mistreated him and tried to ruin him from a young age, and then got saddled with an existential nightmare of an ending that leaves me baffled to this day.

In terms of personal misfortune, he certainly is the Starflight of his group.

Qibli

CW: Parental abuse

Qibli is a very charming and versatile character. It is easy to imagine him in a variety of different situations and the scenes almost write themselves, especially when there’s another person with him whom he can bounce off of (figuratively, though I wouldn’t put it past him to try to literally bounce off of someone too). The 10th book posits him as some kind of parallel to Darkstalker; the latter even overtly states this and tries to recruit him as a manner of apprentice. It’s interesting because I think they are actually pretty different.

Qibli excels in situations where his options are limited. He is great at thinking on his feet and coming up with solutions to problems within a restricted framework. He'd be great in an escape room. This ability of his is shown throughout the arc, but it is especially visible in Moon Rising, where his presence in a scene often makes Moon stronger, or more adept at solving problems, because his mind is breaking down the situation for her in a way she would be unable to see on her own.

The twist then comes in when you take Qibli out of that limited framework, by giving him power. His pronounced intellect is very peculiar; it needs limitation to be brilliant. When he has unhindered access to all-powerful magic (i.e. doesn’t have to clear his ideas with another person), he turns into a colossal idiot who buries cities in sand and almost blows up inhabited mountains.

It only follows that, if you were to give Qibli what he wants and make him an animus, it would absolutely ruin him. The great intellect he cultivated would wither and, unshackled from the limitations that forced him to think critically and be his most excellent self, he would end up destroying himself, and likely others too.

Another interesting facet of Qibli is how he works as a parallel to Winter and Turtle (and Peril to an extent). All of these characters come from broken homes and have suffered under abusive parental figures. Qibli’s case in particular is interesting because it showcases how your circumstances can make a difference in how well you handle that issue. Qibli suffered under a tyrannical mother and a pair of cruel siblings, but in contrast to his peers, someone from the outside noticed his suffering was able to intervene—Thorn saved him from his hell and became his rescue parent, restoring his confidence and sense of self-worth.

Because of this, when his turn comes to confront his demons, while it is still difficult and painful (because trauma always is), he is able to navigate the confrontation with comparatively more grace and control than the others. The contrast really shows how difficult it is to escape a toxic relationship if you are still mired deeply within it, and how you need to put some distance between yourself and it before you can see where you are and what needs to be done with improved clarity. That is the path to healing.

I could probably keep talking about Qibli for 15 more paragraphs, but I’ll spare you.

Kinkajou

Every protagonist (and a good deal of side characters) in Wings of Fire is broken, usually has some kind of gut-wrenching past (often due to terrible parents), and struggles to find their place in the world. Luckily here is a pink-and-yellow Rainwing who is just happy and everything is fantastic and wholesome, right?

CW: Forced starvation

Nah, Kinkajou had it pretty rough too. The story plays it like it’s a humorous quip when she finds out Moonwatcher is her roommate and bemoans that nobody is taking her “trauma” seriously, but... yeah, it actually is legitimate trauma. She was captured, bound, and trapped on a hell island without sunlight for several weeks. While there, she was not fed, and she helplessly watched people whom she knew from early childhood starve and die. Death by starvation is not pretty, she likely had to witness her friends slowly being driven mad by hunger until they withered away, and couldn’t do anything about it. Then she was rescued and returned to a home that didn’t believe her pain was real, that claimed she made it up for attention, and that some people who she thought of as friends didn’t even notice she was gone. The only one who believed her was a stranger whom she had met maybe a few hours ago.

Personally, if that happened to me and I came home to that, I’d likely have pulled a Chameleon and said “Screw the Rainwings, I’m moving to the desert.”

That Kinkajou is still able to be positive and full of energy after that is a testament to her immense mental fortitude. She might actually be one of the most stable and resilient characters in the story. Some things shake her up for a bit, but nothing can crush her.

Still, I imagine there are some times, after a really bad day maybe, where she wakes up in the middle of the night. And there, for just a moment, she is scared to open her eyes... because she might be back on the Nightwing island and has to watch someone else die.

Peril

Peril is a bit of an odd case in arc 2. She gets grouped with the protagonists of that arc and the ending implies she is integrated into the Jade Winglet as their new Skywing. I have no real problem with that, in fact it’s good on her that she’s made a little less isolated. But to me, Peril always felt like an awkward appendix to that group. Her only real friend in there is Turtle; for the rest of them they feel more like vague acquaintances, like she's tolerated for being Turtle's friend.

To be fair though, that friendship with Turtle is really strong; it’s an exciting and deep character dynamic. But if I was forced to tie Peril to a group of protagonists, my first instinct would be to associate her with the first arc protagonists instead.

This poor girl has been through it. Everyone seems to hate her and wants her to leave, sometimes for understandable reasons and sometimes it just seems bizarre. I already went into Tsunami’s disdain for her in an earlier post, but I also vaguely remember a point in Escaping Peril where she meets Qibli and he gives her a withering glare for some reason. That confused me, to be honest. I thought “What’s YOUR problem with her? Have you ever even met??” Like, I guess the Outclaws were in direct conflict with Burn since they lived in the same country, and Peril was an infamous elite combatant under the command of one of Burn’s allies, so maybe Peril killed people he knew? But then he gets over his disdain really quickly and with no comment, so whatever happened can’t have been a big deal after all.

My favorite part in her book is when everyone--after having learned about Turtle’s powers--chews him out for not having helped his country during the war, and Peril cuts through the tripe by saying something along the lines of “So if he uses the power he was born with to serve his Queen it is honorable, but when I do the same for my Queen I’m a murderer and deserve to have things thrown at me?” I love all of these guys, but they really deserved to be called out for their double standard and feel stupid for a bit.

But yeah, I really enjoy her friendship with Turtle in the end. And since he accidentally made himself virtually indestructible, it means Peril can now get all the friendly hugs she craves.

Umber

Umber is cool. He has a potentially interesting relationship with Turtle, which is implied in the latter’s book when it is mentioned that they sleep with their backs touching to comfort each other about their respective siblings not being there.

Unfortunately he gets written out of the story arc very quickly. I wish I knew more about him.

Carnelian

I like Carnelian. I feel like she had a lot of potential that gets wasted by her death, for not much gain. It is used to give Queen Ruby a reason to come to Jade Mountain and kickstart the events of Peril’s book, but the same could have been accomplished by having her learn that the Academy is housing Peril and going there to demand the extradition of a (in her eyes) dangerous and murderous fugitive.

Same as with Umber, really, I wish I knew more about her. I already said this during my Smaugust drawing session, but I like to pretend that she and Bigtail didn’t die, and instead had a mini arc about recovering from their injuries. It also has the side effect of averting some very unfortunate implications that come with Bigtail’s death.

~~~

I think that’s all of them. Good lord I talk too much. Please don’t throw crocodiles at my face for it. Tumblr is my queen, and--much like the Queen's former champion--I was made to do it.

[lonely-cowboy]

hi!! how are you? i just wanted to tell you that i am obsessed with your writings omg :’((( i can’t even put into words how happy i am to find your account, the way you write connor is just <33

i was wondering if it’s okay to request something where connor is being protective over fem!reader?maybe some hurt/comfort with fluff in the end <3 I don’t have a specific scenario in my head, so it’s totally up to you, and i would love anything you decide to write for this request!!! also, you are totally free to ignore this if you don’t feel inspired enough by this request, it’s absolutely okay! ♡

thank you! have an amazing day and please sorry for my english, it’s not my first language

ugh thank you my love this is so sweet to hear!! i'm so sorry it took me so long to post, midterms have not been fun my friends. i fear this is not my best work, but i hope you can still enjoy our silly android boy <3 you have an amazing day too!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

helping hand

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: connor comes to help you when you don't need him. again.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: graphic(?) violence (connor shoots a guy oops)

author's note: i write way too many first kisses and this is no exception. prepare for silly goofy domestic married fluff in the future bc that's what i live for

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You could’ve handled it all perfectly fine on your own. You didn’t need Connor’s help, you didn’t want Connor’s help. You were entirely capable of taking down a runaway vigilante on your own.

Sure, maybe it was stupid of you to run off on your own to the crook’s last known location the second the call was made. But he had been only three blocks away from you. What were you supposed to do, wait for backup? Of course not. You had the opportunity to catch a known criminal, so you took the risk. It was all part of the job.

You found yourself at an empty construction site with your gun drawn and pointed at the runaway criminal. You inched closer to your target– some crazy, murderous, anti-android protestor, there were a lot of those these days– slowly drawing your cuffs. You reached forward to restrain his wrists, fingertips brushing against his skin.

And then you were on the ground. You had been practically tackled, your temple striking the rocky earth hard enough that it looked like the world was spinning.

You sat up uneasily as you tried to orient yourself. Who in the world would have shoved you like that? The only indicator was your attacker’s quick “Sorry, Detective.”

You grunted in frustration as your vision cleared, focusing on the one person you did not want to see: Connor.

In all the time it took you to readjust, Connor had taken the vigilante to the ground. He stood overtop the criminal who groaned between crazed laughter. Connor’s foot pressed firmly into the criminal’s chest, a gun– that certainly did not belong to the android– pointed directly at the laughing man’s face.

You moved slowly from the ground, holding your surely bruised side. Your gaze was locked on Connor’s trigger finger, anxiously anticipating gunfire. You feared what it could mean if Connor pulled the trigger. 

“Connor,” you warned quietly, your voice steadier than expected. 

As you approached, you noticed the twitch of his finger. His LED was cycling through every color imaginable, his brows furrowing and unfurrowing as he held the criminal’s gaze.

“Never even think about touching her again,” Connor spit, his voice so cold that it frightened even you.

The pinned criminal only laughed, an ugly wheezing sound as Connor’s foot dug deeper into his chest. “An android in love, huh? Never thought I’d see–”

Connor’s foot rose quickly, stomping hard on the crook’s face until he was knocked out cold. From the impassive look on Connor’s face, you could tell he was practically seething. But that didn’t matter. Now was not the time to comfort him because you were equally as angry. 

With an agitated huff, you shoved Connor by the shoulders as hard as possible. He barely moved at all, only adding fuel to your fire.

It was then that Connor seemed to snap out of his daze and remember you were there. He turned to you abruptly and discarded the gun, his hands finding their place on your biceps with a firm grip. His eyes immediately scanned over your frame, analyzing you for any damage. The only damage he found was what he had done.

The crease between his brows returned as he reached up to touch your throbbing temple. When he pulled his hand back, his elegant fingers were tipped with your blood.

“Did he do this?” Connor questioned, an edge of doubt in his voice.

“No, Connor,” you snapped, shaking off his hands. “You did this! And it wouldn’t have happened if you had just let me do my job for once!”

His LED blinked a steady red. Funny how it matched the blood on your temple.

“Detective, I was only trying to help,” he reasoned feebly.

“I don’t need your fucking help, Connor! I was handling this just fine on my own! And then here you come to save the day yet again, all knight in shining armor! Acting like I’m your damsel in distress, in need of saving!”

“Did you know he was armed?” Connor asked dismissively, quizzically cocking his head in a way that usually enamored you but only seemed to irritate you now. 

You opened your mouth to retort, but nothing came out as you processed Connor’s words. Armed? No, you hadn’t known he was armed. But if you admitted that then you would’ve looked stupid, like you needed Connor’s help. Like you were some damsel in distress.

When you didn’t answer, Connor gestured to his forgotten gun. “That was his. He was preparing to shoot you.”

“I could’ve easily disarmed him,” you scoffed, crossing your arms arrogantly. “I’m a trained professional.”

“The probability of success was 29%,” Connor stated matter-of-factually. “A majority of outcomes would have resulted in your death, Detective. I couldn’t take that risk.”

“Then maybe you’re not cut out for this job,” you growled. “This job is all about taking risks, Connor. I knew that when I signed up, and you should too.”

Your harsh tone made Connor pause, though he was quick to recover. He was determined for you to understand. 

“If I can prevent your death, then I will. I won’t let your pride stop me,” he said.

It was your turn to pause, lips pursing into a thin line at the reality of Connor’s words. You knew he was right. He was right, he was right, he was right. But you refused to acknowledge that. 

When you opened your mouth to speak, nothing came out besides a yelp.

So quickly you could barely process what happened, Connor’s grip on your arms tightened as he spun you around. One arm wrapped around your shoulders to pull you into his chest protectively while his other hand moved to your holstered gun.

A single shot was fired. And an accurate shot, you guessed, by the sound of a slumping body.

Peeking past Connor, you found the body of your runaway criminal, a bullethole pierced right through his skull. You made note of the gun beside his fallen body, the same gun Connor had carelessly discarded.

You felt Connor return your gun to its holster before his hand moved to your chin. He turned your attention away from the dead body, forcing you to focus on him instead.  

“I know you’re capable, Detective,” Connor murmured, his voice full of a fondness you hadn’t noticed before. “But that doesn't mean I can’t help. I feel better knowing you’re safe than assuming you are.”

You swallowed hard as you held Connor’s steady gaze. His free hand moved to brush your aching temple. His touch was so gentle you could barely feel it as he wiped away the blood with a frown.

“I only wanted to keep you safe,” Connor explained, his voice holding a tinge of– was that regret? “And I only managed to hurt you myself. Maybe you’re right, Detective. You don’t need me. I’m sorry.”

Your hand moved to tug Connor’s hand away from your temple, holding him in your warm grip. His thumb rubbed against your knuckles soothingly as if it was second nature to him.

“I do. I do need you,” you insisted suddenly, surprising even yourself. One minute, you’re practically yelling at Connor for helping. The next, you’re reassuring him that you’ll always need him. You were confusing even yourself, you couldn’t imagine how confused Connor, the poor android. “I… I do. But… not all the time.”

Again, that crease between Connor’s brows returned, your lips forming a smile at the sight.

“I don’t appreciate you enough,” you continued with a defeated sigh. “I do need you. If it wasn’t for you, I’d already be dead, you’re right. You’ve saved me twice today. But that doesn’t mean I need you to swoop in and save me every single time. I can still handle myself.”

“I know… I know…,” Connor whispered, his eyes unfocused as if lost in thought.

You let a beat of silence pass, watching Connor expectantly. There was something he wanted to say, it was on the tip of his tongue. So you patiently waited until he found the words.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

An android in love.

The criminal’s words replayed in your mind as they suddenly came back to you. At the time, you hadn’t completely processed what he said, your anger outweighing any thoughts of reason.

An android in love.

“Was he… was he right?” you asked after a beat to which Connor tilted his head with a puzzled look. Damn him for not being able to read your mind and immediately know what you were struggling to say. “The guy. What he said… He said that you…”

“Are in love,” Connor finished, his tone flat and conveying not a single sense of love.

“Yeah…,” you shrugged.

“If love can be defined by a desire to keep you safe, then yes, I would say I’m in love with you.”

With you.

With you.

He was in love with you.

You couldn’t hide your wide grin, ignoring the warmth that had suddenly spread to your cheeks. Seeing your grin, the corners of Connor’s lips quirked into a small smile too. Your faces naturally moved closer together until your noses were brushing, the warmth of each other’s breath against your lips.

Connor leaned closer. Closer, closer…

He was going to kiss you, and you were going to ruin it.

“You know,” you interrupted, pulling back no more than an inch. But it was enough to make Connor frown. “I’d rather not kiss next to the dead guy.”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Connor’s smile returned, an affection glint in his eyes. His hand found yours, pulling you away from the scene.

“Backup is on the way,” he said. “They can handle this on their own.”

With his hand in yours, Connor led you away. He gave your hand a quick squeeze. It was a reassurance. A sign that you were safe with him, that he would do whatever it took to protect you. You returned his firm squeeze. Because you would do the same for him. 

[cuverale]

twin flame - t.c.

a/n: I wasn’t going to post this but I couldn’t resist it so here it is. I’ll probably make 2 or 3 more parts of this. Enjoy!

tchalamet

liked by robertdowneyjr, zendaya, florencepugh and 13,395,207 others

tchalamet 1095 days with you. thank you for making me the luckiest guy on earth. so ready for round four. let’s do it again, my twin flame.

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timmyfan i remember the day i learned they were dating 🥲

ynfan2 i’m so happy for them 💞

pauline.chalamet HAPPY 3 YEAR ANNIVERSARY MY BABIES 💗🥹✨

tchalamet THANK YOU PAAAAAULINE!!! 💫🦄💗

timmytimmy EVERYONE, SAY THANK YOU ZENDAYA FOR INTRODUCING THESE TWO

ynmybaby Thank you Zendaya! ❤️❤️

ynandzendayafan Thank you sooo much queen!!

timofann thank you Zendaya!!!!

ynandtimmy Thank you queen!

tchalamet THANK YOU ZENDAYA!!!!

zendaya you’re welcome my babies!!

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yourusername

liked by tchalamet, zendaya, kyliejenner and 14,395,175 others

yourusername 3 years, 1095 days. yet i still feel like we met yesterday. i can’t and probably never will get enough of you. let’s do it again, mon amour.

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tchalamet i love you so much it hurts.

yourusername good to know our feelings are mutual sir.

florencepugh crying rn 🥺💙

chanelofficial Happy Anniversary you two!

timofann Chanel celebrating their ambassadors anniversary. Wowza 🫨

zendaya seeing you two so happy makes me feel like crying i’m not even kidding

yourusername babyyyy 😭

zendaya i’m a proud mama

yourusername love ya mama

ynmybaby i love their friendship so much 🥺

zendayafann I adored them since their Disney times 😭

ynandzendayafan and look at them now. they found their soulmates and living their best life 🥹

ynsbabygirl they deserve it 🫶🏻

tomholland2013 love you guys!!!

yourusername love you too!!!

ynsbabygirl it’s supposed to be 4 years but- 😭

chalafann ugh I wish they never broke up but I’m grateful bc they’re happy now.

ynmybaby not Kylie liking the post 💀

timmytimmy i was laughing for hours

ynsbabygirl i’m so embarrassed for her

randomuser why? what did i miss? 🥲

timotea0 long story short, according to some “sources” kylie and timothee was dating since the new years. kris jenner and some pr team fueled the story by some pics but none of them actually worked. bc even though him and yn broke up at that time he was still so in love with her so he denied everything about the rumors and admitted that he was still in love with yn. then tom holland and zendaya made them get back together.

randomuser oh god, what a loser she is.

timotheefan15 ikr

kidcudi you guys are so cute

stephanebak my guy and my girl being the cutest couple

pauline.chalamet ok but when are you gonna be my sister officially????

*liked by tchalamet

ynandtimmy WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!

ynmybaby Y/n Chalamet era soon?????

timmychalamet9 omg omg omg omg

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voguemagazine

15,395,186 likes

voguemagazine Y/n L/n and Timothée Chalamet are recently seen at a dinner in Venice with Zendaya and Tom Holland, celebrating the couple’s anniversary.

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ynmybaby my fam 🥰🥰🥰

ynsbabygirl i think they’re on a well deserved vacation together 🤧

timotheefan1 they are! 🥹

ynandtimmy the way he looks at her 🥺

zendayafan i love their friendship so much

tomhollandfann seeing them together makes me even more excited for their upcoming movies and euphoria’s new season! I miss Zendaya and Y/n together!

ynsbabygirl same here! I still can’t decide which one should i go first. Y/n and Tom’s or Dune 2???

zendayafan0 ok but i need all of them in a movie together 😩

timotheefan15 same girl same 🤧

chalafann i love how he nuzzles his head on her neck awwwww

ynandzendayafan they’re having so much fun 🥹

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zendaya

liked by tchalamet, tomholland2013, yourusername and 13,495,184 others

zendaya sisters having fun. period.

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yourusername so you’re not gonna mention how you tried to sink me into the water huh??

zendaya i have no idea what you’re talking about miss

tomholland2013 should i be offended by the way you didn’t post at least one picture of us or..? You didn’t even mentioned that we took them :(

tchalamet you should get used to it bro🥲

tomhollandstan LMAOOO

ynsbabygirl aww poor boys lolll

ynmybaby POWER DUO 👑

zendayafan45 SLAYYY 💅🏻

timotea0 🥹🫶🏻

tommyfan1 you two are sooo cute

zendayafan9 love you guyss

florencepugh i missed you two 🥺

yourusername we missed you too bby 🤧

zendaya come over so we can ditch the boys and hang out together!!!

tchalamet ouch

tomholland2013 hey!

tayrussell cuties ❤️

yourusername 💋💋💋

zendaya love youuu

ynandzendayafan MOTHERS!! 🛐

ynsbabygirl i want what they have 😩

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tomholland2013’s story

[novacorpsrecruit]

Hi a quick lil read: I did a poll the other day because I was thinking of creating Steddie fic recs and so I decided I’m gonna do 5-10 fic recs a post based on some sort of theme and here’s the first installment! Please feel free to ask for themes, I can’t promise I’ll fulfill them but I’ll do my best.

Theme: my favorite fucking idiots

single / taken / pining by 96tears (Ao3) @pizzaqueen (tumblr)

T | wc 4,435 | no cw

Summary: When a girl Steve’s trying to flirt with starts flirting with Eddie, Steve says the only thing that comes to mind: he tells her Eddie’s married. It’s not his smoothest moment, but it works, and Eddie goes along with it. It's not like Eddie was interested, anyway, and he figures Steve wanted the ladies to himself. So, Steve figures that must be it, too.

But a little later it hits him: he doesn’t want to keep the ladies to himself. He wants to keep Eddie to himself.

Ugh!!! I love it when the dumbasses don’t understand why they’re jealous, or that they’re jealous in the first place. Post season 4, Steve and Eddie work at Family Video and the Arcade respectfully, and come and bug each other during slow times. Steve gets a little jealous when a girl starts hitting on Eddie.

‘cause tramps like us, baby, we were born to run by stellapoint (pettifogger) (ao3) @heybluechild (tumblr)

T | wc 9,308 | no cw

Summary: Realization #1: Steve is wearing a costume. He’s dressed as Springsteen on the cover of Born In The U.S.A. The album cover is staring at Eddie from the stack of records by the speakers, and he flicks his eyes between the cover and Steve, almost laughing at how obvious the resemblance is.

Immediately after that, revelations two and three slam into him like an eighteen-wheeler.

#2: Bruce Springsteen is kind of hot.

#3: Steve Harrington is really hot.

A fourth and much louder thought echoes through Eddie’s brain: oh, shit.

(Many months ago, I wrote a tumblr post about Steve Harrington being a Bruce Springsteen enjoyer. This fic is about that.)

Takes place after season 4, Eddie and Steve are friend. Eddie’s love language is music. He’s a bit of a music snob, and doesn’t understand why Steve wants him to like his music. It takes a moment for it to click to Eddie what’s really going on. I love Eddie but sometimes you want to shake him like a snowglobe and oh my god, I’m shaking him so hard.

wasted crying by MixAddams (Ao3) @mixsethaddams (tumblr)

T | wc 6,471 | cw ow (light angst)

Summary: Steve just wants a buddy.

So why does it hurt so much when Eddie introduces everyone to his new girlfriend?

There’s a happy ending I swear! You’ll just want to bundle Steve up in a few blankets first. Post season 4, Eddie gets a girlfriend, and Steve is not jealous. Not at all. He just … misses being in the honeymoon phase of dating? No that can’t be right… is it? There’s a lot of good heartaches in this fic. I do want to share one of my favorite lines:

“I think so. Stuff like this is supposed to scare you, I think,” said Eddie. “It’s supposed to feel….”

Eddie took a breath and Steve watched his eyes move around as he searched for the words. Steve thought he might wait forever for him to find them.

“It’s supposed to feel like a leap, right?”

I can be pretty (why don’t you think I’m pretty?) by starsdontsleep (ao3)

T | wc 8,942 | no cw

Summary: When Eddie comes out as gay, he assures Steve that he doesn’t find him hot. Steve tells him it’s fine, he even teasingly asks what he should do to change that. It becomes a thing. A way to always make Eddie laugh, blush and relax around him—but as the days and weeks pass, Steve begins to realise that maybe there’s another reason why he cares so much that Eddie Munson finds him pretty.

Remember when I said I’m shaking Eddie like a snowglobe? I’m shaking Steve now. Steve, please tell me why you think you want Eddie to think you’re pretty? Why do you need to know what Eddie’s type? Steve’s only worried that Eddie doesn’t fully trust him with his sexuality. So Steve works to be the best ally… and definitely does not fall in love with his friend along the way.

clown music at the disco by fragilecapricorn (ao3) @fragilecapric0rnn (tumblr)

M | wc 3,717 | no cw

Summary: “What the fuck are you doing here?” He nearly squawked, meaning for it to come out anyway other than that. The man turned around, and here he was. In a stare down with ghostly pale Steve Harrington, who was not only supposed to be straight, but was also in a MESH TANK TOP at Frankie’s on a Wednesday night.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He pauses, glancing around the room, small voice. “It’s disco night.”

Post Season 4, Eddie, Robin and Steve move to the Chicago. Eddie has a new habit of going to the bar on gay disco night, finding another brunette ex-jock to fill the Steve shaped hole in his heart. Until he runs into said brunette ex-jock at the same gay bar on disco night. 10/10 no notes I’ve read this like 5 times.

of all the gin joints by genesisofrhythm (Ao3)

e | wc 4,016 | cw: they fuck | spice level: I read this at my work desk in between meetings

Summary: “So, do you come here often?”

Steve choked at the familiar voice, turning abruptly. “Munson?”

“What’re you doing here?” Eddie asked, his mouth gaping open as he looked over at Steve.

Steve was surprised to see Eddie here as well. What were the odds of them both driving out of Hawkins to come to the same gay bar?

Or: Steve goes to a gay bar to support Robin, when he sees Eddie Munson. He can't tell Eddie the real reason he's there without outing Robin so he tells him he's bisexual. But Steve's totally straight... right?

Steve [Evan Buckley voice]: “I’m an ally ✊”

This is a fun fic, definitely Steve Harrington speed running a sexuality crisis. Good for him. (also I have a soft spot for fics that use fob lyrics as a title, forehead kisses for that)

Exactly What It Looks Like - BilbosMom (Ao3) @bilbosmom-belladonna (tumblr)

E | wc 31,517 | cw | spice level: I should not have read this at my desk 😳🥵

Summary: Steve makes a face at Eddie. “You've imagined doing stuff with a guy?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie replies, spreading his hands wide. “Doesn't everyone?”

Steve tilts his head to the side as he thinks. Maybe not very often, but his freshman year when Davey Riggs had been swim team captain? Yeah, he had definitely imagined some stuff that had made trips to the locker room kinda awkward.

“Yeah, that's true,” Steve answers, nodding. “I wonder why everybody acts like it's so gross, though.”

In the summer of 1986, Steve and Eddie have some perfectly normal fun between a couple of perfectly normal dudes.

I’m honestly insane over this. Like, I’m going to be thinking about this for a long time. Post-Season 4, Eddie and Steve find themselves watching porn together. And it’s not weird at all if you jerk off next to your new best friend. And maybe it becomes a habit. And helping them out every once in a while isn’t weird. And maybe sucking his cock isn’t weird. Or fucking his thighs —

Please remember to leave kudos and comments on the fics you read/enjoyed! Support your writers 🖤

[chimielie]

my lover, my life, my shawty, my wife

summary: Ushijima x f!Reader. snapshots of eternal youth.

word count: 1.3k

cw: lighthearted manhandling, longterm established relationship ups (and one down), marriage talk and mention of toshi’s parents’ divorce. it’s basically all fluffy and silly tho

a/n: nobody @ me i wrote literally 99% of this a couple weeks ago and just remembered it was in the drafts today i’m working on the promised fics!!! it will just be A While i’m slow okayyy 💘 anyway enjoy some pure ushijima fluff

“Ushiwaka!!!” You shriek, voice breaking with laughter as you slam your hands against his backside. “Put me down, you—you barbarian! Kidnapper! Plunderer!”

He doesn’t say anything, just jostles you gently so your top half (currently upside-down over his broad shoulder) sways while your legs stay firmly in the grip of his arms. You know it’s as close as he’s going to get to a verbal admonishment, your current position already more than enough of an indication that he is fed up with you acting up in a public setting.

“Fine,” you scrunch up your face, sure that he can envision it just the same as you can see in your mind’s eye the near-invisible traces of amusement on his face. “Ugh, you’re going to make me sick. You are so bossy. I can’t believe you think that you can just pick me up and carry me around and tell me what to do. You don’t even say please, you know that?”

He probably gets the idea that he can just pick you up and carry you around and tell you what to do from the ten years that he's been doing all those things, since high school.

You've never gotten sick from being carried like this, either.

“You are bossy,” he says simply in rebuttal. "You say please but you know I'll do whatever it is you want. Even unreasonable things."

"I'm always reasonable," you say. He pats your butt in a way that isn't supposed to be condescending but is. You smack his in return and enjoy the way his back muscles tense up. "Ooh, you've been training your glutes."

He's been doing it in your home gym. You've always been loud about obvious things like this; he doesn't understand it, especially, but he likes it. At first, that had been much of your relationship. You were loud and obvious about your feelings for the up-and-coming teenage ace, and he didn't understand you, but he liked you.

He considers, and then revises his previous thought. He understands you better now. You talk through even things you and he know well because it helps you to process your thoughts, and you are determined to be shocked and delighted by all small things in the world.

"Hello, Bo-kun!" you wave to his teammate. Bokuto, bless him, attempts to bend over upside down to mimic you.

"Hey, Ushijima-san!" Ushijima is lucky that everyone in the facility knows you and you don't have to clarify to any security guards that you aren't in danger, for real. You take offense to the idea that you couldn't win in a fight against him, anyway.

You had been asserting this particular belief, actually, to the rest of the Japanese men’s volleyball team while they stretched post-practice and friends and family were allowed on court to distract them. Atsumu had been egging you on, urging you to try fighting another of the players since he didn’t trust Wakatoshi not to let you win currently. You had rolled up your shirtsleeves when the ace scooped you up and you had, already protesting, waved goodbye to the blond, a huge grin on your face. He had saluted you as you went.

“We’re not married yet,” you say, bonking your forehead into Wakatoshi as he stops short. “You all don't have to keep saying that. Please, call me—”

"Oh, Waka-kun said," Bokuto starts before being cut off.

“We may as well be," Wakatoshi says, turning to face Bokuto (At least turn sideways so I can see, you complain). "It'll happen eventually, so we can start practicing by calling her my wife now."

"What?!" You say. "Don't say things like that. You sound like you like me. Do you like me? Do you want to be more than friends?"

People have always talked about your relationship in begrudging terms. "Oh, opposites attract, I guess..." spoken in a disbelieving and reluctant tone. He understands. Most high school relationships didn't work out. Most people would get frustrated with him and his communication style. Then most long-distance relationships didn't work out. Most young professional athletes wanted to try new things, new people.

Wakatoshi doesn't understand why he would want to try something new when he had something perfectly fine with you. He had said that to you, once, when you were in Sapporo and he in Koganei. You had gotten very quiet for the rest of the call and then remained quiet for two weeks, sending all of his messages to read and calls to voicemail. It had taken a short flight and a shy, quiet apology to right his wrongs. He had known that he would spend the rest of his life with you, he said, forgetting to blink even as you furiously swiped away tears, a month in when you were fifteen. Barely longer than this terrible time you had stopped even fighting with him, just giving up on him. Why would he try anything else when he had never deviated from this path?

But what if you're just not seeing that there might be something better out there for you, you had said, voice angry but face already forgiving. Worse, what if you do see that someday? You’ll get tired of settling.

He had shaken his head. There isn't something better. Please, continue to be patient with me. Your breath had burst out of you in a single sob, and then you were yanking him toward you, ordering him to kiss you so you'd stop crying in front of all the neighbors.

Considering his parents' marriage, one might have thought that he would have more qualms about the concept than he did. You didn't seem interested in pressuring him there, though, and when asked just reminded him that living together long enough would result in common-law marriage anyway, so he just had to tell you if he ever wanted to stop living together. After several years separated and more reunited, he hadn't yet found any desire to do so. He definitely had strong negative feelings about being away from you for extended periods.

He was very lucky that you had chosen a career path which would allow you to travel essentially anywhere with him, find lucrative work anywhere with him. The home gym had actually been your gift to him, from the bank account you didn't share. It was the most thoughtful and horrifyingly expensive gift he had ever received. He had retaliated by hiring your most favored interior designer to rework your apartment into something both sentimentally familiar and not decorated entirely on the whim of two mid-twenty-year-olds. While they worked, he took you on vacation.

"We have to go," Wakatoshi adjusts you in his hold, nodding to his teammate. You’re quiet for a bit, so he puts you down, steadying you by your waist until your head stops swimming.

“You know we have to talk about these things,” you say, looking steadily at him.

“Yes,” he rumbles, considering his words for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about it more often recently. I still don’t feel strongly about the idea of a wedding, but I want you to be my wife. If you want to be.”

Insecurity sparks in him. You enjoyed your friend’s weddings, but perhaps you didn’t want one of your own, or one to him. Perhaps he had crossed a boundary.

“I don’t know,” you tap your lips with a finger, and a weight lifts off his chest when you smile at him. “I’ll see when you ask me. But I want it to be sometime in the future, somewhere more scenic than your athletic facility, okay? With a ring and a sappy speech.”

He smiles, then, his teeth showing. An explosive and momentous display of emotion.

“I’ll be sure to say please.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

THTH 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.

Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.

You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.

A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”

“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”

“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”

“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, awesome.”

You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.

You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.

You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.

You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.

It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.

Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.

For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.

📱

Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!

You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?

The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…

Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.

As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.

_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.

You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.

You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.

As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.

You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.

You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.

Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Genteiban DVD Translation ☽ Mini Drama I (Kou, Subaru, Laito)

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD 限定版 SPECIAL DISK II Mini Drama I Voiced by Kimura Ryōhei (Kou), Kondō Takashi (Subaru), Hirakawa Daisuke (Laito) English translation by @otomehonyaku Click here for the audio (thank you @uzi-boozii for providing the audio!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or post my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

I'm back with another anime mini drama! This one's the first one of the three More,Blood mini drama CDs, featuring Kou, Subaru, and Laito. I can't stress enough that I love these 'behind-the-scenes' kind of CDs... and how sad I am that Ruki didn't get the exposure his character deserved in the mini drama he appears in (which is coming later...) ( -᷅ ⤙ -᷄ )=3

Anyway, next up is the More,Blood mini drama featuring Yuma, Shuu, and Reiji! Have fun listening and reading along ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

[This drama takes place after Subaru and Kou have their moment with Yui on the roof of the academy building.]

00:00 Subaru: Tch! Fuck, this is bullshit.

Laito: Ooh… Subaru. What were you doing on the rooftop terrace? 

S: That’s none of your business.

[Laito sniffs the air.]

L: This scent… is Bitchlet’s.

[Subaru is startled.]

L: Hmm… I see. Subaru, you were doing naughty things with Bitchlet on that roof! Everyone’s been starving ever since she left. To keep her all to yourself like that… That’s just mean.

S: That’s bullshit!

[Subaru punches a wall, debris falling to the floor.]

S: Fuck! You’re pissing me off.

L: Ah, you’ve punched a hole in the wall again… Someone’s cranky today. Or are you perhaps a bit too turned on after tasting Bitchlet’s blood again? Hehe.

S: I’m not.

L: Then I suppose you’re upset that the Mukamis took her away from us?

S: I just can’t stand them.

L: But the fact that Bitchlet’s coming to school with them… she must be living with them, right? She’s kept hostage in that house, letting those guys do whatever they want with her from dusk ‘till dawn… The four of them share her, take turns biting her… or maybe they all bite her all at the same time? Hehe.

S: Shut up.

L: At first she’ll resist, but eventually she’ll offer her body to them… Oh, I wonder about the faces she makes when they feed on her, the pleasurable noises that must spill from her lips… Ah, it’s just too much…

S: I told you to shut up!

[Subaru shoves Laito.]

02:09 L: Oh, Subaru, don’t get so upset!

S: Fuck off! Do you think she wants to be their plaything?

L: Hehe. I wonder. People need change, I guess, and having a good time with them might stimulate her a little. However…

S: Heh. So you’re alright with those Mukami bastards taking her away?

L: Oh, no, not at all! Subaru, you’re so thickheaded.

S: Tch. Watch your words.

L: There’s nothing wrong with making the best out of a situation, right? That’s why I always try to put my personal enjoyment first. Well, I think I’ll go take a sip of her as well. She’s still on the rooftop, isn’t she?

S: No, you should leave her be.

L: Huh, why? Isn’t it a bit unfair that you’re the only one getting to enjoy her?

S: She’s still with him.

L: Who? Oh, I see… So that’s why you were upset, Subaru. Mukami Kou’s the one pleasuring her up there…

S: Ugh.

L: First, you took her blood, Subaru, and now he’s biting her too. Ah, I wonder how she’s feeling right now…

S: Motherfucker…

L: Someone else’s fangs are piercing her skin right now… Heh. How arousing.

S: Go get turned on somewhere else, you fucking pervert.

04:01 L: Huh? Don’t you want to come with me, Subaru?

S: Fuck off! Leave me alone.

[Subaru walks away.]

L: Well, I suppose Subaru has said it before.

It’s no fun hogging resources. I think I’ll go say ‘hi’ to Bitchlet…

[Laito goes to the rooftop and sees Kou.]

L: Ooh, wait a minute—she’s unconscious! If you keep feeding on her like that, she’ll die, you know.

Kou: What’s this all of a sudden? This is none of your business. We’re taking good care of our little Masochistic Kitten… in our own way, that is.

L: You’re saying that, but her face is white as a sheet. You Mukamis get pretty rough when you feed, don’t you?

K: That’s not something I want to hear from you Sakamaki scum. Besides, I’m not the only one who bit her just now.

L: You mean Subaru?

K: Yeah, yeah. Subaru was more violent than I was, so you might want to tell him off instead.

L: So that means you just stood by as he took Bitchlet from you…

K: Don’t misunderstand. I purposely handed her over. Subaru wanted her so badly, but he’s too shy to just be honest and say so. I felt a little bad for him, is all.

L: Hmm.

[Laito walks over to Yui.]

L: Even then… Heh. You’re pretty naughty yourself.

K: Huh?

L: You covered up Subaru’s bite marks with your own. Your desire to monopolise her is on full display.

06:04 K: And how are those two things connected?

L: Something precious was taken away from you and it made you sad. You used to be human, so I suppose you’re subject to those cliched emotions.

K: Stop it. You’re imagining things. You know that we were once human, though…

L: I could tell by your scent. Besides, you seem to need Bitchlet for something. What are you scheming? You guys reek of suspicion.

K: You’re awfully good at sticking your nose in other people’s business, Laito. Well, you’ll find out soon enough.

L: Hmm. I’ll just have to kill some time until then. But hey, Bitchlet’s still out like a light. Just when I thought the three of us could have a good time together….

K: Oh, wow. Are you really alright with this?

L: Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy seeing her writhe in agony because of my fangs. I just wanted to see her writhing because of someone else’s, for once.

K: Seems like you’re the one that’s fucked up…

L: Don’t kill her, though. I was looking forward to playing with her again when you guys are done with her.

K: You really are a pervert. It’s disgusting. Just what I expect from an aristocratic brat. And as I said before, I assure you we won’t kill her.

L: So if you kill her, you can’t fulfil your plans. Is that it?

K: Wouldn’t you like to know?

L: Oh, well. Be careful, though. You’re not the only ones after her blood. There are vampires out there who are quite upset about their parched throats. Hehe.

08:08 K: You say that as if you don’t have anything to do with it.

L: Hmm… That’s not entirely true, either. I just don’t think it’s fun when she’s continuously passed around like that. I’ll have to wait for her a little longer, but I’ll be sure to enjoy myself in the meantime. Hehe.

[Laito walks off.]

K: You’re only now behaving like you have all the time in the world…

[Kou walks over to Yui and lifts her up.]

K: Don’t worry, I won’t kill you. Until I become Adam, that is. And I will become Adam. If only to prove myself to the man who gave me my freedom. Right, my little kitten?

[shalomniscient]

hello sev! there’s so little nox content on tumblr…do you have any nsft/sft headcanons for nox??? by thr way your sevcchino writings are SO GOOD i love self insert stuff its always so fun to read!:7:!27:!:&

hiiii sghshhdhdhd thanks for liking my delusion content !! arle makes me more ill then any character ever has before 😔😔😔 /pos

(someone ask me about sevchino lore. i swear im normal. come into the enclosure i swear i dont bite—)

cw. mentions of sex

anyway as for NOX ur so right anon there is criminally low content for her on this webbed site so i suppose it is time to be the change we want to see in the world 😌😌😌

NOX at maximum compliance and post-interro is just a sweetheart. a dangerous sweetheart to be sure, but still a sweetheart none the less. she very much has puppy energy, in that she’ll always want to please you and follow your orders. if she could, she’d trail you around the bureau while you work—which is both immensely funny and downright terrifing, because that’s the grim reaper why is she acting like a lovesick puppy ?? NOX is your scary dog privileges frfr

anywho, you can mostly find NOX in the gardens or her own cell. if she’s in the gardens then she’s usually crouched near a flowerbed, looking at the blooms but not touching them—they’ll just die, and she doesn’t want that. but you can see the way longing twists her pale features, so you pull hella aside and ask her if she wants a little extra pocket money.

“crochet flowers like i crochet my beanies…? ugh, chief, who do you think i— you’re going to pay me 150 DisCoins per flower? …what colour and when?”

NOX is a little confused when you hand her the bouquet once hella’s completed them. she refuses at first, thinking she’d just damage them, but with some coaxing you manage to get her to take the flowers. she cradles them in her arms, and you see as her expression morphs into surprise as she holds them.

“they smell… nice,” she says slowly, and you’re glad she likes them (making that deal with cassia took several years off your lifespan.) NOX keeps them in a vase in her cell, and you pop by every so often to give them another spritz of perfume, specific to each flower. roses, daisies, tulips—you commission hella to make more until there’s a yarn garden in NOX’s cell.

she loves it. sometimes you’ll find her sitting on her bed and simply looking at the flowers, or gently holding one in her blackened hands. if you decide to come in and sit next to her, she’ll let her head rest on your shoulder, and the both of you just rest in comfortable silence.

NOX doesn’t want for much. her purpose now, as it were, is to follow you. she’d head to the edges of the world, into the deepest, darkest oblivion for you. all she wants is to remain by your side, to feel the warmth of you against her skin.

nsft utc—

due to NOX’s unique physiology she can’t really get aroused in the conventional way. but the shackles are a powerful thing—and sometimes your need is strong enough that it travels down to NOX, and she feels her still heart jump. NOX’s body is generally really cold, but once you get going and by extension her, she starts to warm up.

NOX is definitely the submissive one between you both, but she’ll top if you want. just tell her what to do, how to do it. it’ll take her some time, but she learns eventually. NOX usually cums when you cum, due to the heightened sensitivity of the shackles between you both. but she likes it more when you make her cum with your fingers or your strap.

in general, i’d say NOX is more fond of lovemaking then fucking. she wants to be close to you, always, because you’re the one person she can’t hurt by virtue of existing. you’re so so important to her and she wants you to know with every breathless gasp she lets out of your name or in the way she licks or fingers you with awkward but well-meaning tenderness.

NOX is the first to say i love you, one night after you both wind down from a round of soft sex. to anyone else, it may sound terrifying—powerful words spoken in that echoing, haunting voice of hers, but to you she sounds nothing short of lovely. you run your fingers through her long, pale hair and hold her tightly against you as you return the words to her.

[lanafofana]

Pumpkin Spiced Larceny

Pairing: Raphael x Tav (kinda), Shadowheart x Lae'zel (background)

Rating: Teen+ for swearing and implied heavy drinking and drunken behavior.

Word count: 4.6k

Summary: Modern College AU. Tav has a bit of a rough past but she's making strides on reforming the errant ways of her misspent youth. Until a friend in need sparks that familiar sticky fingered itch. It's fine though...It is!

Special love to @waterdeep-weavemoss @ladyofcrowsandcoffee Vi and Fangbanger for doing the brainwork of thinking up drinking game names 😘

AO3 Link to validate me with Kudos etc etc etc

Gratuitous self indulgent chicanery ahoy!

There was no getting around it. The pumpkin was fucking ugly. 

Tav stared at it, brows furrowed, frowning and trying to come up with something encouraging to say. Her companion sighed. 

“Just say it,” Shadowheart muttered, slumped in self pity on her side of the picnic bench. “It’s awful.” 

“No!” Tav blurted and then bit her lip when Shadowheart transferred her narrow eyed stare from the gourd in question to her. “I mean, it’s…” Adjectives, each more unhelpful than the last, flew through her mind. Hideous. Gross. Cursed. She tilted her head the other direction, hoping to stir a burst of inspiration from somewhere. A piece of pumpkin hanging on by sheer force of will abandoned its post and landed on the table with a wet splat. “It’s an honest effort.” 

Shadowheart gave her a disgusted look. “OH thanks!” She glared resentfully down at her project. “It’s a fucking piece of work. What am I gonna do?” With the dull handle of her blade she prodded the gaping maw of her savaged creation morosely. “The contest is in an hour and Lae’zel’s going to be mortified I submitted this in her name.” 

Lips pressed into a thin line Tav didn’t have a clue what to do either. “What was it supposed to be?” she asked delicately. 

Her friend rolled her eyes. “You can’t even tell? That’s just, ugh! Whatever, it’s supposed to be a mindflayer, from that game she’s always playing?” 

“Right.” Tav prodded a pile of pumpkin guts spilling out from the pumpkin monster’s maw, “and this?” 

“A brain?” 

“Okay,” said Tav gamely. Running through the options available to them in their limited time frame Tav puffed out her cheeks in thought before snapping her fingers. “Got it.” Her friend looked up hopefully. “Have you thought about hiding?” 

“Tav!” complained Shadowheart, threatening to throw a pile of juicy pumpkin guts at her face. 

Dodging away, Tav laughed. “I’m not joking! Your girlfriend scares me. But,” she added a hair more seriously. “Also, she like, loves you, right? Like love-love’s you. Like a lot. Have you considered she probably won’t even care?” 

Shadowheart scowled. “The prize is a year-pass to all those mixed martial arts fights they do at the colosseum. She’ll care.” 

Gathering up bits of pumpkin pulp into a pile Tav sighed and stepped away to throw it in the bin when an idea occurred to her and she froze. 

“We could…no. It’s a bad idea.” 

Shadowheart was out of her seat in an instant. “No, don’t do that, what were you going to say?” 

Gathering the abandoned implements of pumpkin carving Tav considered her words carefully. “It’s a really bad idea but…I think I know where we can steal one.” 

“Oh for the love of,” Shadowheart swore. “Is that always your first solution? Crime?” 

“Hey!” 

“Don’t ‘hey’ me. Well don’t stop there, go on, out with it. Where is this pumpkin and how do we not get caught and how do you know about it and how do you know–” 

“You remember that guy I told you about? Raphael?” 

Shadowheart’s hands come down hard on the picnic table with a loud smack. “The Dean’s son?” she hissed, horrified at the direction this is going. 

“Yeah,” confirms Tav grimly. She picked up the brutalized pumpkin and considered it with a frown before, deciding it wouldn't fit in the bin, putting it back down. “I know for a fact he carved one and I also know for a fact he won’t be submitting it.” 

“How could you possibly know that?” 

“He’s been using one of the art department’s studios after hours, I saw him working on it the nights I had life drawing. And last night I saw him having a row with his father in the quad by the Admin annex.” A twinge of something curled in Tav’s gut uncomfortably at the memory. “Anyway, he’s definitely not in the running anymore. We just have to break into the studio he’s been using and bing bang boom.” 

“Alright,” Shadowheart said slowly. She didn't look particularly confident but turned the plan, such as it was, over in her mind a moment. “Alright, fine, let's do it. How hard could it be?” 

Tav gave her a dirty look. 

“What?” 

“You just had to say it, didn't you?” At her friend's blank stare Tav sighed and rolled her eyes. “Nevermind, secure your Jack-O-Shit and let's go.” 

Pulling a cardboard box out from under the table Shadowheart dumped in her mangled project and the implements of carving she had used before another thought occurred to her, “How are we gonna break into the studio?”

Tapping away on her phone Tav glanced up with a smirk. “Don't worry about it, I know a guy.” 

Trailing after Tav, arms full of the awkward weight of her mistakes, Shadowheart tried to keep her expression as neutral as possible at that revelation. 

The pair hustled across campus to find Tav’s ‘contact’ leaned against the back of the Oskar Fevras Fine Arts building. When he heard them coming he looked up from his phone with a smile that was all teeth.

“Hello, my darling reprobates. Looking to spice up your Halloween with a little grand larceny?”

Shadowheart’s eyes nearly bugged out of her face but Tav only laughed, unconcerned. “Hardly, Astarion, we just need to get in.”

“Darling, I wasn't born yesterday,” Astarion chastised, giving them both a look over the frames of his trendy sunglasses. “The only reason someone wants to break into a studio is to steal. And since I'm reasonably certain no one at this institution has produced the next Mona Lisa I know you're not doing it for money. More's the pity.” He pocketed his phone and rubbed his hands together gleefully. “So, who are we ruining with this charming little heist?” 

“Plausible deniability,” sang Tav. “Keys, please! Besides, if we get caught and you're implicated, how could you ever manage to look at yourself in the mirror again?”

Astarion barked a laugh. “Very easily, I assure you. You're really not going to give me a teensy little clue?”

“It's for a good cause,” Tav assured him.

Astarion scoffed, disgusted. “Well there went my interest.” He heaved a long suffering sigh. “Very well.” Producing a ring of keys with a motion so fluid it looked like magic he pushed off from the wall and led them to the door. “Here you are then, please don't lose them. I am rather fond of being employed.” 

“Thanks, we won't be long.” 

Tav opened the door, ready to go in but Shadowheart hesitated. 

“You're not coming?”

“Aren't you adorable,” Astarion cooed. “Stick around and be spied at the scene of the crime? No, thank you, dear. I'll be at the costume contest. You can find me there whenever your sticky little fingers are done. Look for the vampire with the great hair. Ta, darlings.” 

The art building was a feat of modern art meets architecture. Its layout was similar to an old fortress with most of the building shaped around an open courtyard, a strange golden fountain at its center. The entire thing was a dismal dark grey stone that, while offering a sleek facade, leant itself to casting dramatic shadows no matter the time of day and it was through these shadows the pair passed on their quest. 

Empty of the usual bustle generated by the hundreds of students who normally traversed the place, their footsteps seemed to crack especially loudly against the stone beneath their feet, echoing off the imposing walls. 

“I’ve never been here before,” remarked Shadowheart, shifting her box onto her hip to dig her phone out of her bra. “It's very…prison-chic for an art department.” 

Tav snorted. “No need to wonder who influenced that decision. The school got the money from the Fevras’ family the year the Dean got appointed.” 

“Not a man fond of the arts I gather. Unfortunate for Raphael.”

“Yes, well. Fortunate for us because now you'll get a pumpkin that doesn't look like a chainsaw massacre victim. There's the entrance to the studio wing.” 

Somewhere the screech of a door swinging open and slamming shut rang out. The pair froze and stared at each other. 

“Probably just a professor,” whispered Tav. 

“We've got thirty minutes,” hissed Shadowheart, stuffing her phone back down her shirt and adjusting her grip on the box. 

The door was unlocked and mercifully quiet when they cracked it open to slip inside. The hallway they entered was long and dark with a single flickering light buzzing at the far end ominously. 

“Cozy,” they deadpanned in unison before catching each other's wry expressions and giggling. 

“The studio’s just around the corner up ahead, you stay here and keep watch.” Tav took the box from Shadowheart. “Text me if you need me, I won't take long.” 

So saying Tav moved down the hallway confidently, ignoring the way the empty windows on either side of her seemed to peer like glassy black eyes in the dark liminal space. 

Making a sharp right at the end of the hall she beelined for the door she sought, pulse kicking up a notch in her thrill for the goal. Setting the box at her feet Tav fiddled with the ring of keys, belatedly realizing that none of them were even a little bit helpfully labeled. 

“Damnit, Astarion,” she swore, trying one and then another. 

There had to be at least fifty keys, if she tried them all it was going to take forever. Swearing up a storm under her breath Tav knelt on the floor to get a better look at the shape of the keyhole and compare the multitude of options she still had to get through. Leaning a little to the side to try to catch the light from the flickering bulb that was buzzing in her peripheral, her knee hit the cardboard box and the tinkle of metal drew her attention. 

“Now there's a thought,” Tav reached into the box and withdrew a long thin knife with a speculative look in her eye. She’d jammed it in the keyhole and begun fiddling with it in earnest when her pocket buzzed. 

“Twenty minutes,” she was tersely informed. “What is taking so long?”

“We got a problem, Shads, the keys aren't labeled and there’s a million of them to go through.” 

“Hells! Well, you used to steal shit all the time right? Can you, I don't know, just pick the lock?”

“First of all, how criminal do you think my history is? Hurtful, honestly.” The lock clicked open and she got to her feet with relief. “Second of all, way ahead of you.”

“You.” 

Tav whirled around, her stomach doing an impressive job at jumping for her throat before plummeting clear down to her toes. 

Raphael, dressed to impress in an outfit that looked pulled right off a runway, his hair styled to within an inch of its life, stood barely two feet away, glaring down his nose at her. 

“Tav? What was that?” Shadowheart’s tinny voice seemed too loud in the silence. 

“Nothing!” It was hard to say what was moving faster, Tav’s racing heart or her mind. “Listen, you go ahead, I’ll meet you there,” Tav disconnected the call before her friend could respond.

In the flickering light Raphael’s brown eyes looked black and menacing. When he spoke, his aristocratic voice was cold with fury. “What,” he said through clenched teeth, “do you think you're doing?” 

While Tav grappled with how to answer that question his eyes caught on the box at her feet. Something strange crossed his face that the dim lighting made impossible to read. 

“What–” 

“I came for your pumpkin.” Tav wanted to swallow the words back as soon as they were out but a half formed idea had hatched in the back of her mind and she latched onto it with both hands. “For the pumpkin contest.”

Raphael was staring at her incredulously which was a step up from murderous rage in her estimation so she plowed on. 

“I want to make a deal with you.” 

That had certainly snared his attention. The Dean's son he may have been but Raphael's deals were legendary. Avoiding expulsion, passing a class you were otherwise guaranteed to tank, even acquiring merits of distinction you were in no way entitled to; the rising star of the drama department could arrange it all. For a price. 

Eyes narrowed, arms crossed, he looked from her to the mauled pumpkin peeking out from the box. “Usually, I’m the one offering a deal.” 

“That wasn't a no.”

He sneered. “Careful, thief. I could still call campus security. And wouldn't admissions love to hear how the infamous Taverna Featherfall had fallen back on old habits?”

Her pulse was pounding so hard she thought she might burst a vein. He knew her name? Worse still, he knew her history? How? Why?

“Or we could make a deal,” somehow her voice was not as thready as her nerves. “And forget this whole thing happened.” 

Scoffing, he raised a brow. “And what could you possibly have that I want?” 

That was, unfortunately, a very good point. Her burgeoning skill as an artist notwithstanding she was still just a poor student, subsisting on ramen and rice. So what did one offer the Devil of Dramatic Arts who had everything? Almost everything. Inspiration never tasted so sweet.

“I know about your fight with your father.”

His eyes immediately shuttered and he pulled out his phone. “I’m calling security.”

Lunging forward Tav’s hands closed around the device before he could do so much as turn the screen on. 

“Get off–”

“Listen,” she said. “I’m not trying to get involved in your weird family dynamics or anything but you don't seem like the type to just roll over and do what you're told.”

Raphael still looked furious but he'd stopped struggling for control of his phone. Where her fingers were locked around his, his skin burned hot. 

“I’ve seen you working on it for days, so let me submit your pumpkin, he'll definitely recognize it's your work. When it wins, because we both know it will, you'll have the satisfaction of proving him wrong.”

Jaw tight Raphael looked away from her, turning the idea around in his head. She’d never been this close to him before and he smelled good. Cherries, coffee, and the distinctive smoke of clove cigarettes. 

“I think not,” he said at last and Tav’s dread soared. She wasn't just letting her friend down, Raphael could get her expelled. “You’ll submit the pumpkin in my name.” His eyes, when they met hers, were intense. 

“But,” she began. 

“Think carefully, little thief.” 

“And what do I get out of this?”

“Besides the dubious honor of remaining an enrolled student at this institution?” Tav scowled but if anything that only seemed to charm him. “The winnings, presumably your goal from the start, are yours.” 

“Deal,” she said quickly, floored this entire exchange was working in her favor. Inside her pocket, her phone buzzed to life. “Fuck, the contest.” 

Shaking off her loosened grip Raphael checked the time on his own watch before briskly pushing past her into the unlocked studio. 

The pumpkin he had carved was a masterwork of the craft. Devils cavorted with fiendish glee, the hellish scene embellished with intricate borders of fantastical hellfire. He'd added paint, red and black, since she’d last spied it and applied what looked like actual gold leafing for a dramatic finish. 

“Wow,” she breathed, taking in the minute details hungrily. It was ludicrously unfair he should be as talented at visual arts as he was at performance. 

Taking Shadowheart’s attempt at carving out of the box to make space for his, Raphael preened. “Tick tock, little thief, you're running rather short on time.” 

“You aren't coming?”

Raphael’s disdain was an ugly twist on his beautiful face. “Why would I need a jumped up little nobody like you to submit my pumpkin if I could do it myself?” 

She hadn't actually given it any consideration but now she squinted at him in confusion. His face tightened. “My father has taken steps to ensure I am ‘more appropriately occupied’ for the duration of the little festival.” 

Tav frowned in sympathy. 

“Which is why you'll be the one to accept when I am, as you say, inevitably crowned the victor.”

The sympathy fractured sharply. “I’m what?” 

“You want the prize don't you?” 

Godsdammit she was going to kill Shadowheart. “Fine,” she grit out. Raphael smiled. 

Pumpkin in hand and the clock winding down Tav hustled out of the art building, phone sandwiched between her shoulder and ear. 

“Where are you?” Shadowheart demanded when she answered. “They're about to start judging!”

“I have good news and bad news but then more good news after that.”

“Tav, we do not have time for–”

“I have the pumpkin and I’m en route. See? Good news! Bad news, I need you to change the entrant name on the participant form to Raphael Cania.” Shadowheart made a noise but Tav plowed on, “but the prize is still all yours if –when– we win.” Reaching the edge of the mini Harvest festival set up behind the greenhouses Tav paused to catch her breath. “I'm close, change the name, I’ll see you in a second.” 

“Tav!” 

Disconnecting the call, Tav craned her neck to get a lock on where the pumpkin carving contest was being held. The expanse of carefully maintained lawn, ubiquitously dubbed “the green” was a hive of autumnal aesthetic activity. Students and professors alike milled around homemade stands that offered caramel apples and on theme activities like ‘gourd bowling’ and face painting. 

Weaving through the crowd the air smelled ripe with hay, apple pie, and kettle corn. 

“Tav! Over here!” 

Shadowheart, flanked by their friends Karlach and Wyll, burst through a gap in the swarm of bodies. Taking the pumpkin and passing it off to Karlach Shadowheart rounded on her friend critically. 

“We're going to have to talk about this habit of yours of hanging up on me. What happened?” 

Tav followed her friends to the tent where everyone's pumpkin carvings were being displayed and judged and sank onto a decorative hay bale with a groan. “Raphael.”

“He caught you?” Wyll’s eyebrows were arched up to his hairline. “Helm Almighty!”

“He did,” confirmed Tav. “We made a deal.” 

Her friends groaned in unison.

“Yeah yeah, I know. Don't be so dramatic. It’s not like I had to sell my soul or anything.” She coughed. “Now who’s up for a round of ‘Which Witch is Which’?” 

“They haven't finished setting it up,” said Shadowheart. “Let’s start with ‘Were of the Dog’.”

“You only want to start there cause they're serving Hallowine,” accused Wyll with a laugh. “You'll be useless for the rest of the night.” 

Shadowheart stuck out her tongue but didn't deny it. 

Karlach reappeared from the Jack-O-Lantern tent. “Judging results should be announced in an hour.” She smacked her hands together and rubbed them with maniacal glee. “Now, who am I drinking under the table? Let’s start with Infernal Imbibing!”

For the next hour the troupe of friends managed to hit every single drinking game challenge with mixed success. As predicted, stomach sloshing with the mulled cider dubbed ‘Hallowine’ Shadowheart was quickly relegated to the sidelines to offer her particular brand of acerbic constructive criticism to their opponents. 

“It's heckling,” deadpanned Tav, vision swimming a bit after winning a round at ‘Graveyard’. 

“It's unethical,” tried Wyll, leaning heavily on Karlach’s shoulder after being trounced thoroughly in ‘Spectator, Spirits and Spooks’. 

“It’s Hallowfest!” Cheered Karlach, wearing a lopsided paper crown she'd picked up from the booth running the tarot card drinking game ‘Kings’. 

“It is time to drink water,” said Lae’zel, only moderately successful at keeping her stoically stern expression in place when she was swarmed by her drunk friends. “They are announcing the winners of the Jack-O–”

“Shit!” Tav staggered before regaining her balance and beelining for the tent in question. 

With perfect timing Tav burst into the tent just as the announcer was declaring Raphael’s victory. Shoving her way past the small throng of participants she reached the podium on the tiny makeshift stage and collected her reward to the resounding cheers of her group of fools. 

“Miss Featherfall,” a deep voice growled behind her that sent a bolt of ice straight through her chest. 

“Dean Cania,” she greeted, blood and alcohol pounding so fast through her veins she could feel her heartbeat in her teeth. 

“I thought I was well acquainted with all my son's closest friends.” The smile that curved his mouth wasn't kind. “Imagine my surprise then, when it was not Haarlep nor Korrilla that arrived to submit his little art project and collect the reward in his absence.”

“And what a regrettable absence it is,” said Tav, riled out of her drunken complacency with the aura of threat that oozed from the Dean. “Wouldn't you say, sir?”

“Regrettable,” he sounded amused. “You young people do have such opinions. A word of advice, Miss Featherfall, tread carefully where my son is concerned.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“You're a clever girl,” the words on his tongue sounded anything but complimentary. “You'll figure it out.”

Without another word or glance the Dean turned and left.

“What was that about?” Karlach sounded three seconds away from committing a violent crime.

Shaking her head with a helpless shrug Tav didn't have an answer. Whatever she may have witnessed of the fight between Raphael and his father the other night she wondered if it was just the tip of the iceberg. “Shads,” she said, waving the prized certificate. “I believe you have a girlfriend to woo.”

“Cheers,” Shadowheart squeezed her in a tight hug, “Give me the keys, I’ll find Astarion for you.”

“Gale texted and said they're finally opening the ‘Which Witch is Witch’, Wyll and I are headed over, you coming?”

Tav was about to agree when she caught the faint scent of cherries and clove. “I’ll just be a sec, I’m gonna see what to do about the pumpkin you guys go ahead.”

Her friends dispersed and Tav wandered her way through the emptying tent to where the carved pumpkins were arranged in a neat row on a line of tables.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said, sidling up to a figure in a sharp suit, distinctive features obscured with a fedora and mask. Inspecting his outfit a little more she huffed a laugh, “clean up at the costume contest too, Al Capone?”

Raphael tilted his head, still staring at his carved pumpkin. “Where would Bonnie be without her Clyde?”

Tav’s stomach flipped in an annoying way. Reminding herself he was probably just making sure she did as they agreed upon rang hollow when she remembered the winners of the festival contests were being published in the school paper.

“Right. Well,” she coughed. “Met your father.”

Raphael hummed.

“Not a very warm man.”

For some reason Raphael found this immensely funny and he laughed. “No,” he agreed. “That he is not.”

“Well anyway,” she said, turning to go. “Congratulations on your win. Whatever that means to you.”

Raphael didn't answer but turned his stare from the gourd in question to pin her in place. Behind the mask his eyes glittered.

The pull of her insatiable curiosity felt like it was burning a hole in her belly. “Why are you here, Raphael?”

“Why are you?”

I smelled your cologne. “Just wanted another look at the award winning Jack-O-Lantern. Who knew a performance artist could be so skilled with his hands.” She leered at him but Raphael rolled his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Life is a stage, wouldn't it follow that every action was a performance?” She could hear the smile in his voice. “And any performance worth doing is worth doing exceptionally.”

“And a philosophizer too? My my. You're welcome by the way.”

“For?”

“Just because I benefited doesn't mean I didn't also do you a favor here.”

Scoffing Raphael removed his mask to give her a sardonic look. “I don't thank people for completing deals as agreed upon.”

“I don't think you're in the habit of thanking anyone. Deal or not.”

“An astute assumption.”

“Then it's a good thing I’m here to bully that stick out of your ass. Get it? Because ass-umption? Makes an ass–”

Raphael peered at her closely. “You're drunk.”

“C’mon, just a teensy little thank you?”

“No.”

“Well then what's my prize? You got some kind of mind game power play win over your father, Shads got to spoil her scary girlfriend, and Lae’zel got the MMA season pass of the, um, season,” she finished lamely. Frowning down at her hands she noticed a loose thread and picked at it.

A sigh from her companion drew her attention and this time when she looked up into his face Tav was struck by how strange he looked. A solitary figure backlit by the glow of a couple dozen flickering artificial candles, pumpkins with wide open maws leering at her from his shadow. If it was anyone else she might have called him sad or tired but all she could think was how ethereal he looked surrounded by fire.

Too much Hallowine, she thought to herself, dragging her dry tongue along her teeth.

Turning to leave, Tav didn't expect Raphael's hand, warm and large, to snag hers from where it worried the loose thread of her jacket.

Nor did she anticipate when that same hand tugged her close, to the source of the decadent scent of cherry and coffee cologne.

“What prize would suit my hero in shining armor then?” Raphael’s voice was dark and smooth as chocolate. Tav’s lungs stuttered and stalled in her chest.

Later Tav wouldn't be able to say who had moved first, her alcohol soaked brain locking away those semantics from even herself. But she would forever recall, with absolute clarity, that Raphael’s eyes had reflected the same startled surprise she had felt a second before their lips had met.

He kissed like an actor, which wasn't to say he was necessarily bad, though only because she was, in general, a magnanimously generous person. No, he kissed like he’d been stage directed through it. His head was at a strange angle, his hands on her face felt awkward and his lips felt stiff. For the outside observer it was probably grade A entertainment.

Locking her hands around his wrists and tugging them down to her waist, she felt a rush of something hot spark alive at the noise he made in the back of his throat. Sliding one hand back up his chest, over the wild gallop of his runaway pulse in his neck, to grasp his chin, Tav tugged him into an angle that allowed her to slide her tongue along his with ease. He tasted like cinnamon whiskey.

Tiamat’s Deck of Many Things, her brain supplied innocuously. At least if he rolled the dice at that drinking game she should consider herself lucky he didn't taste of pickle juice.

When they parted it was difficult to tell who was more dazed.

Adjusting his fedora Raphael gave her an intense look before gently pushing her away. The place where his hands had rested on her hips felt cold in the absence of his touch. “Have a good evening, Taverna. Pleasure doing business with you.”

Tav swayed for a moment before stepping away, the weird moment shattering under his smug gaze. An affectation of cool stoicism widened the trench between them once more.

Leaving the tent, she could have sworn she heard a low voice murmur, “thank you,” but when she glanced back he was gone.

Tag list homies: @12thhouse-sun @dr-demi-bee @spooky-lil-bee @marlowethebard

That's All Folks

If I forgot you drop me a comment and I'll amend my list post haste! 🎃

Divider from The Cutest Grotto!

[player1064]

gary goes into business instead of broadcasting post-retirement. carra still goes into puditry. they don't know each other/end up as friends.

they both end up on the same season of I'm a Celebrity Get Me Out of Here and fall in love. this is highly apparent to the entire audience.

I've not done a request fic in like two months bc I've been so zoomed in on the beville fic but I wanted to write something quick and silly and yes this request has been sitting in my inbox for more than THREE months but dont worry i did not forget about it I haven't forgotten about ANY of u.

and this really is quick and silly it is Mostly dialogue bc idk how else to convey the Vibes of im a celebrity but I had soooooo much fun with this dkjfgdfjsgkk...

---

 “I’m Gary Neville, I’m a businessman but I’m probably best known for my football career, playing 602 games for Manchester United and earning 85 caps for England.”

“What am I doing in the jungle? Mid-life crisis, I suppose.”

“I’m no stranger to public humiliation – just look at my coachin’ career! My only worry is the food – I do love a dairy milk, to be fair.”

*

“I’m Jamie Carragher, and I’m best known as a football pundit with Sky – am I allowed to say other broadcaster’s names on here? – and for winning the Champions’ league with Liverpool.”

“I’ve always said the jungle is the only reality show I’d consider doin’, so I guess it’s time to put me money where me mouth is.”

“Scared? Eh, no, I don’t think there’s many challenges I wouldn’t do. You don’t get to where I’ve got without that drive to win.”

*

Jamie walks into camp, takes one look at the group of people stood in front of him, and almost considers walking straight back out. Would that work, saying the catch-phrase outside of one of the challenges? ‘I’m a celebrity, get me away from Gary fucking Neville?’

“Jesus Christ,” Gary mutters. “Don’t you ‘ave some children to spit at or somethin’?”

“Don’t you ‘ave a football team to coach – oh no, sorry, they both fired you.”

“How the fuck are they lettin’ you take three weeks off in the middle of season? What’re people gonna do when they want to listen to two hours of Scouse gibberish?”

The rest of the campers watch on, no longer even attempting to come and introduce themselves to Jamie.

“And how’s your club gonna manage without yous, eh? What if they need someone to fire another manager?”

*

“Yeah, I uh… is it mean to say I hope one of them gets voted off soon? Don’t get me wrong, they’re both perfectly nice guys, but…”

[yelling heard from outside the hut]

“…Yeah.”

*

The first pairs challenge, shockingly, goes off without a hitch.

This is not a surprise because the challenge was particularly difficult – it’s early days, they’re still easing everyone in – but because of who the public had voted to complete it. Because the public is the public, and they’re nothing if not predictable.

“All twelve stars! I’m pretty pleased w’that, you know.”

“Typical fucking Neville, taking the credit for his partner’s hard work.”

 “Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t seem to recall you crawling about in the mud to get the –”

“—I was the one doin’ all the heavy lifting!”

“Of course you were doin’ the heavy lifting, look at the fuckin’ size of you!”

“Ugh.”

Jamie storms off camera and back into camp, leaving behind a bewildered looking Gary.

“He’s a bit of a diva, in’t he?”

*

“The first few days? Erm, it’s been goin’ alright, I think. I’ve been told I’m not always the easiest person to get on with, so it’s a pleasant relief that the others seem to – I mean, obviously not all of the others, but – but he’s –”

*

“Oh, I’m loving camp. Missing the gym a bit –” for emphasis, Jamie slaps his bicep – “but the food’s not as bad as I were expectin’, and the banter is sound – we’re all great friends already –”

“—well, no, but you can’t count him. He’s so weird, ‘ave you seen him? Like a little robot, doin’ everything exactly the same every day.”

*

“Another pairs challenge…”

“I don’t get why people keep voting for us to do these trials. You’re useless at ‘em anyway, do they want to see us starve?”

“Maybe I’d be able to get more done if you didn’t always insist on bossing me around, James. Can barely hear myself think over that Scouse screech of yours, it’s a wonder me eardrums haven’t burst yet.”

“It’s a wonder nobody’s killed themselves in the boredom of having to listen to you drone on and on all day. Did I actually hear you talkin’ about the stock market the other day?”

“The stock exchange, oh my god. It’s my hotel, which you’d know if you took part in any conversation that’s not about you.”

*

“I can’t believe they let you have that.”

Jamie looks with pride down at the football he’d chosen as his luxury item, then drops it and kicks it towards Gary’s head. It’s wide by about a metre.

“Oi! If you were a half decent footballer that could’ve actually hurt me, you twat.”

“’least mine can benefit everyone in camp, what even is yours?”

“Fidget toy, innit. My niece got me into them, gives me something to do with my hands.”

“You’re a strange little man, you know that right?”

Gary, who’s still positioned closest to the football, picks it up and lobs it into the trees surrounding camp.

*

“Come have a kickabout with me?”

Gary looks around but there’s nobody else sat nearby. “Me?”

“No, Cristiano Ronaldo. Of course you, who else would I be askin’?”

“Literally anyone else here?”

“It’s not as fun when you’re better than everyone else –”

“—ah, so you admit I’m a better footballer than you!”

“That’s not what I said!”

*

“What are you actually doin’ in here? ‘cause no offence, Gary, but you don’t really seem the reality show type.”

“Dunno. Was having a rough week when the email came through, thought it might be nice to get away from everythin’ for a bit.”

“’and you, Jameh?’” Jamie says in a squeaky parody of a Manc accent. “Oh, thanks fer askin’, Gaz. I was worried I was goin’ soft, now that I’ve been retired for so long. Wanted to prove to myself I can still be a winner.”

“Still? When were you ever a winner before?”

“I’ve won a Champions’ League, I’ll have you know!”

“I’ve won two!”

“Have you fuck.”

*

“Who’s your letter from, then? Missus?”

“No, my brother,” Gary says absently, then he looks up from his letter with a frown. “I don’t have a missus, what’re you on about?”

“Don’t you? I could’ve sworn, in Baden Baden with the WAGs –”

“You’re basing your knowledge of my relationship status on a tournament we played in more than fifteen years ago?”

“You realise you’re literally wearing a wedding ring.”

“And you’re not. Any other observations you’d like to make? Sky is blue, maybe?”

“Normally people wear wedding rings to show they’re married.”

“Maybe some people wear them to avoid annoying questions. Anyway, Philip says that I’m coming across very well so far and that ITV has received hundreds of complaints from people who can’t understand your accent.”

“He did not fucking write that, give it here –”

*

“Am I getting along better with Jamie? I dunno, I never had a problem with him to be fair, it’s him that’s always –”

*

“Friends? With Gary? Behave. Have we managed to go a single day so far without him shoutin’ at me for somethin’ I did, or somethin’ I didn’t do right, or for – for breathing in the wrong direction. Christ, I’ve never met anyone this fussy. He’s too easy to wind up.”

*

“He must be doin’ it on purpose, surely nobody is that thick – I mean, is it so hard to stack a couple of dishes when you’ve finished washing them?”

“Well, no, yeah, he did stack them, but did you see – they were all out of order, there’s no stability – they’re certain to all fall and break in the night thanks to him.”

*

All the effort that goes into the Dingo Dollars task and all the camp has to show for it is a single square of chocolate each. Gary nibbles carefully at his, trying to preserve it for as long as possible.

Jamie gets up and goes to sit beside him.

“Here.”

“Wha?”

“Here, I don’t like sweets.”

“You don’t – what kind of a psychopath don’t like sweets?”

“Will you just take the bloody chocolate before I change my mind.”

*

“You’re limping. Why are you limping?”

“Done my ankle in the last trial.”

“Trust you to get injured doin’ a trial. What’d you do, you slip or somethin’?”

“Why don’t you ask your mate, he’s the expert on slipping.”

“Ha ha. But really, Gary – you alright?”

“I’m fine, Carra, ‘s not even strained. Just a bit achy. Twenty years as a professional athlete will do that to you.”

“Give it here.”

“You what?”

“Give it here, I do an okay massage. Maybe that’ll stop yer whining.”

“I literally didn’t say a word until you brought it up.”

*

“I don’t know, he’s – ugh, he’s…”

“He’s not what I expected. I dunno. He’s just not what I expected.”

*

“D’you know how many times me and Gary played a full ninety together with England? One. We only ever played one full match on the same side, and it was shite.”

“It always felt like there was only room for one of us, so I just – I fucking hated him. ‘cause it wasn’t me the managers were picking, was it?”

*

“Carra?” Gary whispers

“What.”

“Carra, I can’t sleep.”

“Don’t give a fuck.”

“Jamie.”

Jamie reluctantly sits up in his camp bed, squints at Gary in the dark. “What.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“You already said that.”

“I want to go for a walk, clear my head.”

“Good for you.” Jamie lies back down and pulls his sleeping bag over his face.

“Jamie.”

“I swear to God, Gaz…”

“Yer not gonna make me go out there alone, are ya? It’s the middle of the night.”

“What are you, twelve? Fine, just give me a minute to find my shoes.”

*

“It’s very dark, isn’t it?”

“It’s the middle of the night.”

They hadn’t ended up walking very far, just to the log benches in the next clearing over before agreeing the risk of tripping over tree roots was too high and sitting down to just talk instead.

“My internal clock’s all thrown off, we’ve been here nearly two weeks and I still can’t get the hang of it. At home to be fair I’m normally in bed by ten, half ten.”

“I remember, from England. You and Phil were such geeks, weren’t you?”

“Most capped brothers in England, thank you very much.”

“D’you miss him?”

“Nah. Don’t get to see ‘im much anyway, to be fair. He’s off in America, Trace is out here, they’re both just – getting on with it, aren’t they? I prob’ly miss my house more’n anything else.”

“Your house… not your friends? Not football?”

“I like my house! It’s got everythin’ just the way I like it.”

“Alright, alright. Fine, you can miss your house.”

“Wha’d’you miss? Your kids? The missus?”

“I dunno really… kids are both all grown up now, missus went back to being a ms a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

“Is what it is. Anyway, I miss football even if you don’t, honest to God, what kind of a footballer are ya? I wish someone would slip me this week’s standings, feel like I’m going insane tryin’ to imagine all the results.”

“Should’ve said something sooner, twat. I can tell you how the league’s going.”

“You can?”

“Yes. Manchester United are on a – how many games’ve we missed now? – they’re on a three game winning streak and have shot to the top of the league.”

“Oh yeah? What about Liverpool?”

Gary tuts and shakes his head. “Relegation zone, I’m afraid.”

“We were top of the table when I came in ‘ere!”

“Well, you know what they say – anything can happen in football, can’t it?”

“You’re right, what’s that… I’m getting reports from Old Trafford that Salah’s just scored a hat-trick, Stretford end as well –”

“You twat! As if your Liverpool could win away against United, you’re dreaming!”

*

“Erm, yeah… it’s good to be going home, ‘course it is. Glad I wasn’t the first voted out, hah, I actually think I’ve done alright in ‘ere.”

“Yeah, no, it’s been a brilliant experience to be fair. I never thought I’d make such good friends – yeah, even him. I know, I’m as surprised as you are! Anyway, I’m wishin’ them all the very best of luck in the semi-finals.”

 *

“I mean, I know fourth place isn’t bad, but I do think I deserved to get to the finals. I’ve worked harder than anyone else here, so –”

“Well yeah, ‘course, it’s up to the public, so – if it’s my time then it’s my time.”

“What’ll I be doin’ when I get to the hotel? Dunno. Check my messages first, probably!”

“What, Gary? I saw ‘im yesterday, it’s not like I’m missin’ him already! Might get ‘im to buy me a pint, though, least he could do after I had to put up with him for three weeks.”

[cosmicpearlz]

lover boy

summary: the 3 times he realized he was smitten with her and the one time he finally confessed.

pairing: percy hynes white x actress!reader

a/n: this is my first time writing in a while, so pls be nice lol. all jokes aside, i hope you guys enjoy and send me some requests! (i got this idea after seeing @dilfxfinder post about wanting percy content!)

…………………………………………………………………………….

~the first time~

it’s been a couple of months since everyone had gotten completely comfortable with each other. you’d say that working on wednesday with a cast full of people your age was one of the many highlights.

jenna decided to host a game night at the apartment she was renting. especially since everyone had the weekend off. percy and emma wanted to be co-hosts with her and helped set up.

“is it weird that i’m kinda nervous?”

“percy, nervous for game night?” emma stopped putting the chips into a bowl to look at the boy. to be honest, he wasn’t sure why he was nervous. it’s not like he’s meeting everyone for the first time again or having to do the first table reading.

“emma, you know he can’t be around y/n without almost passing out,” jenna smirked while emma let out a small chuckle.

“oh yeah! i forgot how smitten you are with her.”

percy felt the heat reaching his cheeks but before he could respond back, there was a knock on the door. wordlessly the boy opened the door and seen the very person they were talking about.

“we brought the drinks!” you said with a smile as you, joy and hunter walked in. jenna and emma share a knowing look before focusing on the task at hand.

“welcome to game night! you guys are a little early. do you mind helping set up?” jenna looked at the three of you.

“of course not, what do you need us to do?” asked hunter. this sent an imaginary floating lightbulb over emma’s head.

“how about we pair up, yeah? joy, you could helped jenna with the decorations. hunter, you could help me with the snacks and drinks. y/n and percy can work on the playlist!”

with that being said, everyone was off to their task. percy was freaking out because how was he supposed to be this close to you without freezing or doing something dumb?

you took him out of his thoughts by wrapping your arms around his waist in greeting. percy immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders. he liked this. having you in his arms.

“so what music are we thinking?” you look up at him with a small smile, still being in his embrace.

in just a couple of months of knowing you and hangout with you, you’ve managed to catch his heart. that small yet adorable smile made his stomach flutter.

oh man was he absolutely gone for you.

-

~the second time~

the last day of filming was overwhelming for everyone. spending time with people you’ve grown to love and then having to leave was hard. percy wasn’t ready to go home. he wasn’t ready to leave you. he wasn’t ready to leave anyone really but you, he couldn’t even stomach the thought of not seeing you until the press junkets started.

“ugh i don’t even know why i’m crying right now. i know we’re going to see each other in a couple of weeks but i don’t want to leave,” you looked around the group with tears in your eyes.

joy and oliver pull you into a group hug while you quietly sobbed. “it’s okay y/n! we’re going to see each other again,” joy softly kissed your forehead.

“yeah, don’t think of it as a goodbye but as a see you later,” oliver squeezed you one last time before being the first to let go.

“i guess you’re right.”

you made your rounds hugging everyone and somehow crying even more. you finally made your way to percy who was standing off to the side by himself.

“you know, i’m really gonna miss you perc.”

percy looked up from the ground to see you standing before him. even with your red puffy eyes and quivering lip, he still thought you were the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen. he closes the distance between you guys and tightly embraced you. you don’t waste a second and wrapped your arms around him too.

“i’m gonna miss you so fucking much y/n. don’t even understand.” you nestle into his chest letting out more stray tears. the both of you ended up swaying back and forth still wrapped around each other.

“promise me you won’t forget me?” you joked pulling away a little to look up at him. percy chuckled and shakes his head.

“never. how could i ever forget you?” he brings a hand to caress your cheek wiping away some of the tears.

“you think they’re ever going to confess to one another?” georgie whispered to emma who was also witnessing this moment between you guys.

“i hope they do it soon. preferably before we have to lock them in a room together.”

you and percy finally let go of each other however still close enough to bump arms while walking.

“come on lovebirds! we’re going out to eat,” jenna yelled out to you guys. instantly, percy felt that same type of warmth growing on his cheeks.

“c’mon percy, last one there is a rotten egg?”

“you are totally on,” with that you both sprinted to the where the others were waiting. obviously percy gets there before you because of his long legs.

“ha, i win!”

“no fair perc. you have freakishly long legs,” you pouted at him with your arms crossed.

“guess you gotta get longer legs sweetheart,” percy laughs and kisses your head.

you intertwine your hand with his pulling him with you. “yeah whatever. i’m still salty but also very hungry.”

he’s never gonna get over this feeling.

-

~the third time~

press junkets started and you were a little stressed. this was your first time doing a bunch of interviews and it was mind-boggling.

“percy, i’m freaking out. how do you do this?” your nervously chewed on your finger nail staring at him with wide eyes.

“relax, i’m gonna be right here with you. you’re not alone, okay?” he walks up to you and slowly took your hand that you were currently chewing on.

“i know i know. but what if i don’t answer a question the right way or say something dum-“

percy shakes his head and firmly squeezed your hand, making sure not to hurt you but to get the point across.

“i promise you, you are gonna do just fine. i know this is nerve racking for you but you are not alone. you never will be alone. you got emma, joy, jenna, hunter, and me. we’re gonna be with you the whole day.”

“you’re right. perc you always know the right things to say,” you lean on your toes to place a kiss upon his cheek.

“what can i say? i’m an expert at making people feel better.” you laughed at his joke before lightly pushing him away.

“you sure are cocky but it’s okay i like that about you. at least sometimes,” you nudged his arm with a grin. he grins right back at you.

you were gonna be the death of him and you didn’t even know it.

-

~he finally tells you~

percy was pacing back and forth in the hotel room. there was only 10 minutes left before everyone had to leave for the la premiere red carpet. but all he could think about is you. you’ve been plaguing his mind since day one. each small yet meaningful moment alone with you was something he’d never take for granted.

“percy you’re going to walk a hole into the floor if you keep pacing like that.” georgie had been sitting with the frantic boy since he called him.

“it’s been almost a year and i still can’t get her out of my mind. there isn’t a minute where i don’t think about her beautiful smile or the sweet smell of her vanilla perfume.”

“i think you should tell her,” georgie stops to look down at his phone. “we have a couple minutes left.”

that’s all it took before percy rushes out of the room. he doesn’t look back either, eyes set on getting to your hotel room. when he makes it to your door which was just down the hallway, he knocks desperately.

“percy! you look good. what’s up?” you opened the door with that smile he loves so much. he takes one second to look at you dressed in a black gown that had a rhinestone top and a tulle like bottom.

“perc? are you okay?”

percy doesn’t think while leaning down and gently grabbing your face to pull you into a kiss. you were shocked but quickly began to kiss him back. the kiss is rough however soft and desperate. he let every single feeling he felt for you pour into that kiss.

when you finally pulled away to get air, the only thing that was heard was the heavy breathing. keeping his hand on your cheek, he bent his head down to rest against your forehead.

“what i’m trying to say is i love you.”





[honeybee-bard]

WIP Wednesday

Chapter 7 of this fic this WIP is from just got posted, check it out here! This WIP is from what will likely be chapter 12.

“Ugh, you’re such a romantic,” she scoffs, but her eyes are soft. “It’s nothing romantic,” you insist. “It’s just some blood, and…benefits.” She pauses for a moment, just staring at you. “Wynlana…what do you mean, it’s not romantic?” “I- it’s not! We’re just friends!” You sputter, and you feel your cheeks and the tips of your ears grow hot. “Oh, Wyn…gods, really? The two of you are the only ones who don’t realize you’re dating,” she says as if in awe. You nearly drop your tea. “We are not. It’s nothing like - I don’t think he even does that? He doesn’t strike me as the ‘committed relationship’ type. And we’ve got tadpoles in our brains! I can’t be dating with a tadpole in my brain!” You realize, as you hear yourself saying it, that your argument is tenuous at best. With how jealous he’d been of Gale, it probably would make sense that Astarion wouldn’t appreciate sharing. He hasn’t mentioned any past relationships, but it’s not as if he’d have the chance for them as a slave to Cazador, and he’s stated before how little he remembers of before he was turned. And as for the tadpole part, well… “Oh, you found a handbook for those carrying illithid tadpoles? You’ll have to let me borrow it sometime,” she hums, taking a long sip of her tea. “Look, Wyn, I know I don’t know Astarion as well as you do, but I don’t have to in order to tell you mean something to him. I don’t know what other things you know about him, so perhaps there’s something I’m missing. Perhaps you’re right, it's just - what did you call it, ‘blood and benefits’? But I think there’s something more to it, even if neither of you properly realize it. He doesn’t seek the rest of us out the way he does with you, and he’s certainly never spent evenings watching the sunset with any of us. Those are special things reserved for you.” The two of you sit in silence for a while, eating the porridge Gale made - still not great, but impressive considering how little he has to work with. You’re surprised to find it’s not an uncomfortable silence, though, and you suppose that might just be another pleasant part of friendship. Amicable silence. Shadowheart only speaks once more before you go. “I know I tease, but I really am happy for you, you know. Whatever it is between you and Astarion, I think it’s good for both of you. Just…try not to get your heart broken, alright?” You wish that you could tell her not to worry about it, that there’s no reason for your heart to break because there isn’t anything between you in the first place, but you’re starting to think that’s not the truth.

A heart-to-heart between two friends just before entering the shadow curse. Also, I've settled on the ship name "Starsong" for Wyn and Astarion, so any work involving the two of them will have that tag! I plan to go back and add it to previous posts as well so everything should be easy to find if you love these fools as much as I do.

I tag @bardic-inspo, @barbwillbrb, @netherese0rb, @drizztdohurtin, and @marlowethebard! No pressure of course, and as always anyone else is free to do it and tag me so I can see!

[darlingsart]

Do you have any other aus?? I love your modern aus so much 😃

Hi! I’m so glad you’re enjoying my AUs! 🥹❤️

I have SO many AUs for Pat and Achilles so this is going to be a long post lmao

One of my favorites is this nereid/human modern AU that I’ve been daydreaming up for the past four years. In this AU, I like to think of nereids having legs but they’re covered in scales, they have more webbed feet and fingers, webbed ears, sharp teeth, gills, like a human/sea creature mix. So Achilles takes advantage of his mostly human appearance by sitting at the shoreline or lounging around the sand from time to time when no one’s around. Anyways, he meets Patroclus by chance on a small, secluded part of the beach and they fall for each other and of course drama ensues because they’re not supposed to be together and Thetis is NOT having it lmao. This AU has everything, secret romance, small towns, royalty drama, heat/mating cycles, and family fluff down the line. It really is one of my faves that I’ve written for myself!

I’ve also got an actor/model AU that I’ve recently been fixated on too. I love the idea of Pat being an amazing actor so much AND Achilles being a spoiled model. Like they are just the IT couple down every red carpet, the envy of all instagram users. I love the idea of Patroclus getting a golden globe or an Oscar or something and Achilles just being a feral mess in the audience like you all better fucking CLAP for my HUSBAND. He’d definitely get a little teary eyed heartfelt shout out from him too.

And then I have a plain old modern AU with them knowing each other as kids and getting together in college, you know the Standard Patchilles AU (which I love).

I’ve also got some spicy AUs like a sugar baby/sugar daddy AU, OH and a “You work for my dad’s company and we’re hooking up in the supply closet between every meeting” AU which is pretty self explanatory and a little messy lol like Peleus thinks that Achilles is finally taking an interest in running the business since he keeps coming to the office every day but really he’s just banging Patroclus, the new VP whenever they’re not in a meeting and eventually their feelings start to go beyond the office and they start actually seeing each other but have to keep it a secret from Peleus, love love love the messiness of it all!

Then I have a sex worker AU. This one’s also one of my faves where Pat is a pretty well off guy, like he’s already established in his career and has a good life but he’s also pretty lonely. Like even his friends notice it and he definitely feels like something’s missing from his life but he’s not exactly sure if he can do the whole relationship thing at the moment. One day, one of his friends jokingly recommends seeing this one worker who— surprise surprise— is Achilles and Pat ends up falling in love and catching feelings very quickly, like after their second or third session, he just can’t stop thinking about him. But it gets messy bc of the work/client dynamic even though they both have feelings for each other and all that UGH I love it.

So many AUs so little time lmao 😭

[fortheloveofarchons]

Caelus finds Aventurine alone

Check out my new fic called "Caelus Our Silly, Little, Chaotic Goober!" Full chapter is at the link down below!! Kudos and comments are much appreciated!

Post referenced to @tsarinadari on X, Instagram and @tsar on Ao3!

Tsarinadari's work

C.W.

- Aventurine/Caelus ship - Aventurine/Ratio ship - Fluff and humour - Fluff and Angst - Hurt Aventurine - Soft Dr Ratio - Soft Caelus - Neck kissing - Mentioned Firefly and Robin

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“Is that… Mr. Aventurine?” 

What was supposed to be a normal day for Caelus to find some trashcan– I mean, wander around The Reverie, finds himself hiding behind the elevator, peeking at the young man with sandy blonde hair. He crouches low behind the sleek, metallic frame of the elevator, his eyes dart nervously across the expansive lobby. 

It appears that Aventurine is by himself, lounging on the elegant round sofa in the centre of the hotel lobby. Aventurine reclines casually, his posture relaxed as he soaks in the opulent surroundings, seemingly oblivious to the commotion unfolding around them. 

A few passersby cast some odd gazes and furtive glances in Caelus’s direction. Their expressions range from confusion to suspicion, their whispers mingling with the soft hum of conversation that fills the air.

“What is he doing over there?” 

“He’s so weird…” 

“Mom… he looks scary.” 

Caelus couldn’t help but let out an awkward chuckle in response, rubbing the back of his head from their attention. After all, how would you feel from seeing a random guy just hiding behind the elevator and acting suspicious in the middle of the day? 

Just as Caelus was about to stand up, someone whispered something… different. 

“Ugh… I can’t believe the IPC allows a Sigonia to work under their authority. What were they thinking?” 

Caelus stops at his tracks, hearing the nosy lady’s voice. 

Wait… what?

“Hey, pipe down!” The other lady whispers loudly. “We’re in a hotel lobby, maintain your dignity!” 

“Ugh, I know…” Caelus didn’t turn his head to look at the two ladies, but he still remained in his tracks, hearing their words. “It’s just– You know fully well how I feel about those Sigonians, a bunch of manipulative skeezers who can enchant those around them and get what they want. As much as I pity them sometimes, no wonder the Katicans attacked them, Sigonians’ traits can inspire jealousy in others.”  

He could hear chuckles rasping from behind. 

Caelus clenches his fists onto his black jacket. As much as the working relationship between Caelus and Aventurine was not from coercion, but a temptation with the promise of gain after the devastating events of what happened to Firefly and Robin’s demise, the hotel guests’ hurtful words would certainly make an ordinary individual feel angry at them. 

Wait… so those glances… Caelus thought, staring at Aventurine from behind. And those words were all about him this whole time? What do I… do?

A pang of empathy stirs within him, the discomfort of witnessing such behaviour urging him to take action. 

► (Walk up to Aventurine and talk to him)

► (Hit those people with a baseball bat! Rules are made to be broken, after all!) 

► (Ignore Aventurine and move on, trashcan and treasure awaits!) 

“No, I can’t just hit these people with my baseball bat.” Caelus mumbles to himself. “I don’t want to make the others worried about my wrongdoings once again… But, ignoring him doesn’t seem right either.” 

Despite the unease gnawing at his conscience, Caelus knows he can't stand idly by. With a determined resolve, he rises from his position and strides purposefully towards the lone figure, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. 

As he approaches, he notices the subtle tension in Aventurine’s posture. Despite his pink rimmed glasses, it doesn’t cover the slight downturn of his eyes. A familiar sight– the weight of isolation and rejection bearing down on his shoulders already burdened by external issues.  

With his casual smile, Caelus sits down next to Aventurine in greeting, his voice warm and genuine as he offers a simple invitation to join him. 

“Hey, mind if I join you for a bit?” He asks, his words carrying a quiet sincerity that resonates in the silence of the room. 

Caelus could’ve sworn that Aventurine’s two toned neon pink and blue eyes widened in surprise, but Aventurine immediately covers it by pushing his pink-tinted glasses upward. 

“Ah, Mr. Stellaron.” Aventurine casts him a smirk, his arm gesturing to the seat beside him. “A pleasant surprise, though it is not unexpected to meet you again.” 

“Ahaha… It sure is.” Caelus casts a side eye to one of the passersby, who immediately avoids his gaze and resumes walking from their post. Although it is normal that the IPC would create neutral relationships with everyone across the galaxy, seeing a Sigonian man conversing with the Trailblazer who once saved the Xianzhou Luofu and Jarilo-VI automatically made the passersby resumes their duties, as if those insults weren’t thrown in the first place. 

“Humans certainly are interesting when it comes to status and wealth,” Aventurine initiates a conversation, bringing his glass of whiskey to his lower lip. “Don’t they, friend?” 

“Sorry?” Caelus blinks in confusion. 

“Think about it, wealth begets Erudition, produces Elation, averts Destruction, and builds Harmony.” Aventurine sips on his fine glass of whiskey before he sets it back onto the table, and drops of water from the whiskey glass stays in his gloves. “Yet, there’s always going to be people that cause chaos in this order. I guess it doesn’t really matter how much you try to conceal yourself with lavish clothes and silver tongues.” 

“...Wait, if this is what you are implying then--" The gears shift into Caelus's head. "Is that why you use these sunglasses? Especially when they are pink-rimmed? Wait-- Is that why you are wearing fancy, lavish clothes too?" 

“You're smart, mostly for pointing the 'pink-rimmed' part out!” Aventurine replies back, holding the temple of his glasses. “I like wearing clothes like these, as I never had the chance to, but for the glasses, it's for my eyes, not for showing off." 

Aventurine then takes off his glasses, and Caelus could see them clearly. The colours of his eyes immediately reminds him of the enigmatic meme back in the Memory Zone, one that is believed to be a manifestation of people’s fear of death and murder. With its piercing purple and pink shades, along with its squirmy body that looks like a centipede, it sends a shiver down Caelus’s spine. 

Especially after what happened with Firefly.....