#when i showed a friend they said it made them think of the corpse of a lover laying out on the pavement with flowers in the wounds

[immakulates]

this is a trap

i've asked my friends—i don't think my heart is supposed to slow there are eyes like lanterns in your walls that watch over me wash over me in thousands of currents and for more than a night's worth suddenly i can do without the sun. this, i know.

this is a trap and my leg is stuck between your teeth and i thank you there's a buzz like dying bees in the middle of your bed that rocks me washes over me in tens of thousands of currents so for a couple of days at least i won't for a second feel the need for slumber and this, most certainly, i know.

this is a trap and i’m bleeding out and i’ve been told to let go and yet still i stand by there it is that smell of rot coming from the inside of your chest like a fish left out in the sun that charms me washes over me in hundreds of thousands of currents and for much of the time to come i’ll be entirely forgetting to eat this, beyond all reasonable doubt, i do know.

i'm just not so sure my heart is supposed to stop

— wave machine / ymk (2023).

[wordsarelife]

⛧༺ NO BODY, NO CRIME ༻⛧

EPISODE 01: dinner and a glass of wine

pairing: theo nott x potter!reader

summary: the christmas holidays have just begun, but still a threatening atmosphere lies in the air and suddenly, you find yourself at a crime scene

warnings: extremely big trigger warning for the whole series, in this chapter: mentions of blood, a corpse, (small) jump-scare

note: hello guys, welcome to the first episode of no body, no crime!! i’m so excited for this series and hope you enjoy it as much as i do!! the next episode is coming out next monday!! let me know what you think in the comments <333

the soft tunes of christmas music filled the air around you. the great hall was less filled than normal, most of the students deciding to go home for the holidays. 

"can you pass me the potatoes, please?" ron's red hair was illuminated by the soft glow of the fairylights behind him. the auburn sweater he was wearing was highlighting the contrast even more. 

"here" hermione said, holding the bowl across the table, as ron eagerly grabbed it. 

"where's ginny?" harry muttered. he had his nose buried in a book about quidditch techniques you had bought in hogsmeade. he had been busy studying it all night, but apparently not busy enough to not notice ginny's absence. 

"she's sitting with luna" you pointed out, as your eyes glided along the slytherin table. ginny and her had grown closer since the beginning of the year and you had to admit that you had quickly taken a liking to the blonde girl. she was a bit strange, admittedly, but lovely none the less. 

"she's been busy all year" ron muttered, mouth filled to the brim. "seems like we've gotten too boring for her"

"allow your sister to have her own friends" hermione shoke her head. "and for gods sake, please close your mouth, ronald."

despite the approaching festivity, the atmosphere in the hall was eerie. maybe because only a few people were sitting at eachs house table, making the hall seem weirdly out of place. 

the slytherin table was by far the emptiest. probably because most purblooded and traditional wizard families made a hail mary out of everything that would allow a party, showing off their wealth and status. 

the only thing that contradicted this assumption was that several children from the most influential pureblood families had chosen to stay. your gaze swept across the table, taking in each one in turn.

draco malfoy, displaying a usual attitude of displeasurement. you guessed that the malfoys weren't the people to listen to christmas music around the holidays. 

next to him, blaise zabini, who was munching on a mouth full portion of potatoes just like ron was. 

across from them and her back facing the rest of the hall, including your line of sight, pansy parkinson. her perfect cut bob of black hair moving slightly everytime she turned her head to the side, as she attentively listened to what draco was telling her. 

a few feet away, mattheo riddle and lorenzo berkshire were quietly discussing something. it looked somewhat urgent, as both of them leaned over the table top, and not even mattheo, whose face you could see, wore his usual smirk. 

just before you were able to wonder about his absence, you noticed theo nott walk into the hall. he looked just like always, messy curls falling onto his forehead, dark circles under his eyes and that face, that made every thought in your head disappear. 

not that you liked any of them, but theo had always been your favorite. he was a true slytherin. cunning, loyal and determined. even though he had reason enough, there was no arrogant bone in his body. 

you had liked him from the first time you had talked to him last year, when snape had coupled you up for a potions project. he had not even been as pretentious as you had thought he was, considering he was always hanging around malfoy. 

but theo was nice, actually nice. 

"hello?" ron's voice was so sudden, you knocked over the cup of pumpkin juice beside you. 

hermione cleaned the juice off of the table with a simple flick of her wand, as she rolled her eyes at your distractedness. 

"what?" you wondered. 

"the cookies, please?" ron smiled and your expression turned sour when you noticed the pieces of potatoe stuck between his teeth. 

you nodded nonetheless and grabbed the plate of decorated christmas cookies. you took one for yourself, a delicious looking christmas tree, before you planted the whole plate in front of ron, knowing that he was gonna take one cookie after the other anyway. 

"i think we're good company" harry said, and while you weren't exactly sure what he was talking about, you nodded. 

"obviously we are" 

"i mean, she could've brought luna along, right?" he closed the quidditch book with a thud and crossed his arms. 

"ehh" you muttered. you were saved by the loud sound of the door, that flew open and revealed professor burbage. she walked up to the teachers table in a hurry, quickly excusing her late arrival, before she sat down next to dumbledore. 

you noticed the look of worry on her face and wondered what she was thinking about. 

“what’s gotten into her?” hermione asked and you were glad someone else had noticed the professor’s strange behaviour.

“everyone is stressed around christmas, right?” ron muttered without an ounce of interest. 

“i’m sure that’s it” harry nodded, glad that he could now shift the conversation back to it’s initial topic. “so, about ginny—“

“you’re mentioning her an awful lot, harry” you joked, enjoying how your brother’s face lost all it’s colour and his eyes darted between ron and you quickly. ron hadn’t even noticed the implication, if he had even listened to you in the first place. 

you could read the boredom from the redheads face as he rearranged the cookie plate, until it showed a little scene with a christmas tree, huge presents and two happy gingerbread men. 

you tuned the conversation out too, as harry continued to speak. you decided that it was hermiones turn to listen now. 

you rather turned your head to look at theo once more, who looked up at the very same time, probably feeling eyes on him. but he didn’t look in your direction, but to the teachers table. you furrowed your brows, before you followed his line of sight, your eyes ultimately landing on professor burbage. she looked just as worried as before, as she hectically looked between theo and something clutched in her hand. 

you looked back to theo, who simply rolled his eyes, averting his gaze from the teacher and focusing back on the untouched food beside him. draco muttered something in theo’s direction and the latter barely reacted, managing only a weak smile, before his focus was gone again. 

you sighed, deciding you had spent enough time with your friends to leave without feeling bad. “i think i’m gonna head to bed” you smiled, standing up.

“oh” hermione simply noted. “should i accompany you?”

you shook your head, “i’ll be fine”. her offer was nice, but you wanted to be alone for some time. it was especially during times like these, that you most missed what other people had: a real family. you still had harry and your friends, but it was different from what you sometimes wished for. 

“i’ll see you guys tomorrow” you waved. ron, mouth filled to the brim, only waved back to your relief and harry nodded, muttering something about a game of chess ginny had promised. 

you headed out of the hall just a mere second later, pulling your sweater over your head, that you had taken off in the hall, because of the brizzling warmth of the fireplace at your back. you took the usual route to the tower. it was the place you often spend time at whenever you wanted to be alone. 

the stairs creaked loudly beneath each step you took, indicating how old the whole structure was. you walked across the wooden beams, leaning your body over the railing as you breathed in the cold of the air and your eyes wandered across the snow beneath you.

it was so calm up here, so silent.. until. the wood creaked loudly, indicating steps coming up towards you. your heart began beating faster, debating who could be coming up here. you had never ran across someone else at the tower.

maybe it was harry? you stepped closer to the stairs, expecting your brothers dark and messy hair to peak from the entrance, but it wasn’t harry who then stepped onto the plattform across from you.

“hey” theo nott muttered, hands pushed into the pockets of his pants while he looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“hey” you said, just as neutral. you tried to act casual, as he walked closer and you followed him back to the middle of the plattform, awkwardly standing next to each other. 

theo fished out a cigarette from his pocket. “is this okay?” he asked, pointing between the two of you. 

you furrowed your brows, confused what he was talking about, before you realized that he was probably asking about your permission to keep you company. “sure” you nodded and the lightened his cigarette. 

“you smoke?” he asked, holding the burning cigarette in your direction as if to offer you a blow.

you shoke your head, although you had to admit that it was intruiging to take a drag when a boy with such blue eyes was the one offering it. 

“do you come here often?” you asked softly, deciding it was more awkward to just stare at him in silence. 

“sometimes” theo shrugged. “they get exhausting, my friends i mean”

“yeah, mine too” you nodded. 

“wouldn’t have held you for a person that particuarly likes to be alone” theo muttered, before he turned his head, blowing the smoke out from his lips, without it hitting you. you appreciated the gesture. 

“it gets too much, sometimes” you shrugged. “i don’t mind to be alone”

“then you probably mind my company, huh?” he smirked, looking into your eyes with a deep kind of sincerity.

“not at all” you shook your head, mirroring the smirk on his lips. “although i would prefer malfoy”

“oh shut up” theo laughed, his eyes glistening, almost surprised at the sudden joke. you felt proud that you had made him laugh, even if you had to mention malfoy. 

“i’m so sincere right now” you giggled, both of you not believing a word you were saying. 

theo threw down his cigarette, stomping on it, before he let it disappear with a flick of his wand. he looked up at you and opened his mouth, about to return a witty remark, when a loud bang rang out. 

you both froze at the sound, the laughter abruptly cut off as the echo of the bang bounced off the stone walls. the great hall felt miles away in that moment, and the air thickened with tension. theo’s playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of concern.

“what was that?” you whispered, instinctively taking a step closer to him. the sudden shift from light-hearted banter to fear sent a shiver down your spine.

“the door” theo muttered in recognition. the tower was right on top of the entryway to the castle. now that you thought about it, the bang did sound awfully like a heavy door falling close. 

“who would even go out there now?” you wondered, your heart still beating fast as the shock settled into your features.

“i don’t know” theo stepped away and closer to the staircase. “are you coming or what?”

you quickly nodded, as you followed him back down and through the corridor, before you froze in front of the door.

“maybe it was the wind” you suggested, though the tremor in your voice betrayed your uncertainty.

theo raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism dancing in his gaze. “you really believe that?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, his posture relaxed but his expression alert.

“well, it’s possible,” you replied, though you didn’t sound convinced. the notion felt flimsy in the wake of the unsettling noise, and the creeping feeling of dread wasn’t fading.

“possible, sure,” he replied, “but it sounded too loud for the wind. we need to check it out. it could be something... important.”

your heart raced again, this time from a mix of fear and curiosity. “important? like what?” you asked, biting your lip.

“i don’t know,” he admitted, glancing back at the heavy wooden door. “but don’t you think we should at least look? it might be someone in trouble.”

you hesitated, looking back down the corridor where you could see flickers of light from the torches along the walls. “but what if it’s something dangerous?” you countered, feeling a rush of apprehension.

“better to know than to wonder,” he said, his tone serious yet gentle. there was a spark of determination in his eyes, and you found yourself drawn to his confidence. despite the risk, the thought of turning back felt more frightening than facing whatever lay beyond the door.

theo looked back at you once more, before he sighed and nodded, pushing the heavy door open. what revealed itself was the dark of the night, as snow fell into the entrance you were standing in, quickly cooling your face. 

“it’s too dark” theo noted. both of you took out your wands, using lumos to light the way. theo urged you to follow him. the snowfall was so heavy, that even the light of your wands did almost nothing. 

theo was just a few steps beside you, when you felt it. “theo” you whispered, as your body and heart froze simultaneously. “theo” you repeated, a bit louder. you could see the light of theo’s wand come closer again. he had heard you. 

“are you alright?” 

you shook your head, what he probably couldn’t see. you could only make out his body. “there is something there” 

“what do you mean?” 

“i’m feeling it against my foot” you muttered. “there is something on the ground. i’ll have to come closer to make out what it is” 

“be careful” theo held you hand to stabilize your body, as you kneeled down, moving the light of your wand across the object on the ground in front of you. it was dark, black robes, hiding something beneath them. but you just couldn’t make out what it was. 

then suddenly, you gasped in shock. your light glided over a face, mouth, nose dripping blood. wide eyes, opened in terror as they stared at you unmoving. you screamed, falling back into the snow, as theo surged forward, trying to catch you. 

“y/n!” he called, panic rising in his voice as you struggled to breathe, your heart racing wildly “what’s wrong? what is it?”

“professor burbage” you muttered, over and over again. 

“what?” theo leaned in closer, still holding onto you, his face drained of color.

“she’s dead!” you choked out, voice trembling, eyes fixed on the professor’s face, still staring up at you, frozen in her final moment of horror.

you heard theo gasp, his own breath faltering for a moment as he processed what lay before you both. without another word, he pulled you to your feet, wrapping an arm around you to support your shaking body. “we have to go,” he muttered, his voice tight with fear. with one hand, he held his wand forward, the dim light flickering in the swirling snow, while the other held onto you as you stumbled back toward the door.

the last thing you saw as the heavy door closed behind you was professor burbage’s body, half-buried in the snow, her lifeless eyes still staring, as if warning you of something far worse to come.

go to the next part

taglist: @melsunshine @shereadsandcries @ch3rry-lips @the-sylver-dragon @mayamonroem @allurearia @prongsprincessworld @brokenpoetliz @winterbarnesblog @mysummerwinesblog @cowboy-luvr @ahead-fullofdreams @mietlynn @maxsisly @too-efn-old-to-be-here @reverse-soe @insideoutjulie @thestrawberrythatgotaway @dvartesgfs @chimchoom @eggsysstuff @uku-lelevillain @lexi2005

[httpskuzuu]

L”m so happy your back! I would like a request a yandere! Pm Dazai (18 yrs old) with a darling who’s naïve and innocent (of course he kidnaps them) how would he react to a such pure person! Thank you for taking this request.

Yandere!PM!Dazai with a naive and innocent reader

This is the first time I write for PM!Dazai (and I do headcanons), don't kill me

Yandere!PM!Dazai x Reader

Idk english, I don't like english, let me

summary: the title :D

tw: kidnapping, corruption of innocence, stalking, death (not reader or Dazai), physical and psychological abuse, maybe something else but idk

Honestly, I don't know how you got into this situation.

I can only think of two options as to how you ended up getting his attention: Dazai was looking for someone like you or you just surprised him.

With the first option, I guess he wanted to get away momentarily from everything he had known in his life, get someone who wasn't as fucked up as he was.

Or you just came unexpectedly into his life, maybe you got involved in one of his missions without having any idea.

Either way, Dazai was dazzled by your innocence.

You are the opposite of him and he wants to keep it that way, he knows what this world is capable of doing to pure souls like yours and he is not going to allow that.

First he won your trust, it was easy, you trusted everyone too fast, you didn't even doubt him in spite of his strange attitude that didn't let you see beyond him.

You never realized the danger in front of your eyes and that only made Dazai adore you more.

He would know every little part of your life, the names of all your friends and the places you go to, he always has an eye on you.

He would keep your friends and family away from you, he's not afraid to kill, threaten or torture others for that purpose.

Deep down, all he wants to do is to corrupt you.

He wants to be the one to destroy your innocence, to show you the cruelty of the world, even if it is contradictory to his initial purpose.

Maybe that's the reason he kidnapped you.

And oh god, that's when the real fun begins.

He doesn't care about your opinion, not in the slightest, and punishments are just around the corner.

Forced affection would be a normal thing, he sees you as a kind of safe place where he can be a bit more vulnerable, just a bit 🤏

Still, I doubt he would ever let you see his true feelings.

That would only be way down the road in your relationship, when Dazai can have complete confidence that you'll never escape.

Yandere!Dazai is not easy, least of all if he's PM Dazai, but your attitude would make it somewhat more tolerable.

Being such a naive little thing, he can trust you more easily.

Plus you're terrified of him, so you don't even think about running away.

But if you were to try… Well, remember what I said about punishments being just around the corner? Then get ready for torture.

Breaking bones, beating you unconscious, isolating you for days, starving and thirsting you, etc.

Although he usually mistreats you as well, it's all more psychological.

He wants to make you see the evil, to see you break and cry.

Makes him have a mix between sadistic joy and regret.

He really feels very guilty for everything he does, for seeing you in such a broken state.

He would never tell you, the closest you get to that would be a strangely silent Dazai cuddling like a koala bear to you.

I hope you have enough mental stamina to endure your stay with Dazai

Oh, and if he sees that he's broken you until there's nothing left of the original you or that all your innocence is gone, maybe he'll kill you because he's bored 😀

The image of your friend would not leave your head. He was immobile, cold, dead.

It was the first time you saw a corpse in real life, it made your blood run cold. Especially because you saw him die and you couldn't do anything about it.

Dazai killed him, after many hours of torture, one shot in his head and his screams stopped. You saw the blood spill on the floor along with pieces of flesh. You did not vomit because of the absence of food in your stomach, but the nausea was there.

He wouldn't let you take your eyes off him, even when he was torturing him. When his fingernails were being pulled out and his skin was burning. You had to keep watching or the torture would transfer to you.

You couldn't save him. Your throat was torn from screaming, but he was still dead. Would his corpse still be in that dark warehouse? Would that be his grave? At least you would have liked to have been able to give him a proper funeral, not abandon him.

You didn't understand how someone could be as evil as Dazai was. Your friend did nothing, he just worried about your disappearance. Now, because of you, he too would become a missing person.

The tears were still wet when an extra weight was placed on the bed. You refused to move, afraid that he would take you back to continue seeing those horrible things, things you can't even describe without breaking down in tears.

He lies behind you and wraps his arms around you, his hands that caused so many murders gently holding your body.

You never thought before that the perpetrators of these acts could be ordinary people, people you would trust and befriend. But they could be, the proof of that was Dazai, someone too young to be killing.

You are conflicted by the situation, you empathize with Dazai. You want to understand him and know what led him to be the way he is today, try to justify him, but he killed your friend. The dilemma of whether he deserved a forgiveness eats at you inside. Could his actions be justified by his past? Maybe Dazai is just a victim like you.

Be that as it may, apparently you still have time to think because he doesn't plan to let you go anytime soon.

I am sleep deprived

[mywifeismothman]

THIS IS KILLING ME.

I picked up tbhk in 2021 thinking it was a silly monster of the week style supernatural comedy. Oh my god, how AidaIro has tricked me. I should have turned back before I got too invested, but tbhk is a part of me now, I think I’d die without it.

IVE BEEN SOBBING FOR THE PAST TEN MINUTES AT MIDNIGHT OVER CHAPTER 120!

Spoiler warning for chapter 120 (read it if you haven’t already and suffer with me):

After chapter 119, this world’s Kou and Mitsuba were basically killed in the red house, once again proving that those two can literally never be happy. When Kou said he’d die for Mitsuba in that one chapter, I don’t think this is what he meant.

But when he says he can’t help them go back, I can’t figure out if he’s talking about Mitsuba or the fact that he’s stuck in the red house. Probably both, as he says something later which implies he’s talking about Mitsuba.

Mostly the red house though, as shown in these panels. Which hit me really hard for some reason.

I started sobbing when I saw these panels though,

Just look at his face, there’s something about the shading and detail in his face which captivates you. Watching the one character who is so fixated on trying to have everyone live die was so heart wrenching.

The parallel between this panel and chapter 118 is killing me. In that chapter, Mitsuba and Kou talk about their bad dreams, ones of the old world where Mitsuba is dead. They don’t want to accept that any of those dreams could be real, promising to each other to live their lives to the fullest, only accepting the dreams as real if they failed to forget.

In this chapter, Mitsuba and Kou were never able to live a life where they could ignore those dreams, almost immediately getting killed. So to Kou, he now had to accept those dreams, with their new reality becoming the bad dream he tells Nene to forget.

This panel also killed me.

He’s clearly talking about Mitsuba, who else could he be talking about. Again showing just how much he means to him. Again, it reminds me of the chapter where Kou talks about dying for Mitsuba, showing that he’ll always be there for him, even in death.

I also want to just talk about poor Nene, look at this panel:

This is the second time that one of her only living friends has had some connection with death, but this is the first time one has straight up disappeared before her eyes. This whole ark has Nene being tormented by death and loss and I hate it.

I wanna touch on Teru quickly. I’ve never loved characters with his type of personality before, but I think this ark has completely changed my mind about him. First, there was that face he made talking about his mother being alive, and then him being forced to exorcise his own brother. Which must have been devastating to Teru, considering that his whole motive is to protect his family, the two he has left. I think this is some of the most emotional we’ve seen in Teru. And I’m crying again

I spent like 30 minutes at midnight typing this out because once again AidaIro has delivered a heartbreaking chapter, and I need to talk about it.

Oh my god, I was so busy crying yesterday I didn’t realize his and Mitsuba’s corpses were in the well.

[raguonmynieceandnephew]

"It's so unfair to the Rat Grinders that they are killed instantly and the Bad Kids get to roll death saves." SHUT UUUUUUUUUUUUP

THIS IS LONG, AND HONESTLY FOR MYSELF, SO YEAH READ IF YOU WANT

I swear to god, this discourse is going to fucking be the end of me. Idk what kind of mind boggling spell Brennan Lee Mulligan wove into the fabric of the universe that spread through the data center of Dropout in order to absolutely hijack y'all's brains when it comes to Cocklord Assgape and her ragtag of character foils but whatever it was has made you Rat Grinder stans INSUFFERABLE in this site.

The levels of treating fictional characters as if they were real people have reached a level I honestly have never anticipated, to the point of y'all actually being mad AT THE CAST for "mistreating" them and ACTUALLY QUESTION BRENNAN'S CAPACITY TO DM. Do you not get how fucking insane that is?

We can't make fun of Copperkettle, one of the most pathetic, petty and incompetent villains in D20 history anymore (even though she is masterfully written and developed to generate this reaction from us) anymore because it's bullying apparently. I saw an account flip the fuck out because someone compared her rivalry with Kristen to Drake and Kendrick's beef. KIPPERLILY IS NOT A REAL GIRL. SHE IS A MAKE BELIEVE CHARACTER IN AN IMPROV SHOW SPAWNED FROM THE BRAIN OF A 36 YEAR OLD MAN

And then what truly pissed me off the MOST about this whole hell is the fact that, being chronically online avid consumers of this goddamn show, I would think you would have but a grasp of the main cast of characters' characterization.

Why the uproar about Riz saying they should chop Oisin's head off? The same Riz who tortured that pixie from Freshman year by shooting off their finger one by one? The same Riz who murked a disarmed and unconscious Coach Daybreak without battin an eye? The same Riz who ATE THE CORPSE OF KALVAXUS?

And the whole Fabian vs Ivy debacle MY GOD, THE GIRL WAS RACIST TO HIS GIRLFRIEND AND USED HER LAST BREATH TO CALL MAZEY "OBJECTIVELY UGLY". And the funniest thing is that is not even the most unhinged shit he has ever said.

And finally, Death Save Gate: THE RAT GRINDERS ARE NOT PLAYER CHARACTERS. THEY ARE NPCS! THE RULES FOR EACH WORK DIFFERENTLY, ESPECIALLY THEM BEING BOSS ENCOUNTERS. Imagine having to still hit Ivy or Oisin 2 more times to kill them when there is 14 foot tall Porter throwing legendary actions left and right, with Jace, and other 3 spell casters + Mary Ann and KLCK up and running. It's called balancing the fucking game. Also, game masters are entitled to break, mold and make up any rules they want if they find necessary in order to service themselves and their players. IF YOU PLAY WITH ALL THESE RULES AS THEY COME, GOOD FOR YOU AND YOUR TABLE. THIS IS NOT YOUR TABLE.

Not only is Brennan DMing for his CLOSEST FRIENDS EVER, he is also shooting and producing an ENTIRE TV SHOW. So yeah, i think he knows wtf he is doing.

"But the Ratgrinders had no real development": True. But it wasn't for lack of trying from the players. Everytime they tried to know more, the dice didn't let them, so they decided to focus on the mystery. It simply do be like that sometimes.

"But they are just kids!": And so were Penelope, Dayne, Ragh, Zayn, the Bloodrush Players, Aelwyn and Biz. Why wasn't it a problem then? Because most of them were evil to some extent and were about to bring the fucking apocalypse to the world? Yeah, sounds familiar right? And the ones who were manipulated or had any sort of redemption worked their way into earning it, right? Yeah.

In conclusion, I fucking love the Rat Grinders, I truly do, and not unlike 90% of this website, i'm still holding on to hope that they have any sort of development and redemption in the last episode, because I agree, they ARE children and they WERE manipulated by Porter and Jace, but like, can we also agree that they are fucking assholes and had it fucking coming? Also, the BKs are children too y'know. SO STOP BEING FUCKING ANNOYING.

[lunebulous]

How would Xavier react to seeing you dressed as a bride? Ch 2.

C.w: fluff, non-established relationship, xavier x reader, sfw, corpse bride mentions, not proofread.

Xavier walks confidently to the end of the hallway, paper bag in hands containing your favourite sandwich and a small bottle of orange juice. He also made sure to buy a little chocolate for you, he is sure you'll love it because it's bunny shaped.

He knocks, and after some time a familiar voice tells him to come in. It’s one of your friends, Lexy. He remembers her from a day where you all went to get some hotpot together.

He didn’t expect her to be here, so he thought that maybe this is a girls day. With this in mind, he turns the doorknob slowly, covering his eyes with one hand and looking down to his feet. You never know, he doesn’t want to interrupt anything.

He closes the door behind him, and Lexy tells him it’s okay, he can look.

“Hi.” he says softly, before letting his hand down and analyzing the scenario he encounters: The room is big, enough to echo a bit when you speak loudly. There’s too much photography equipment to get around, and he can’t see all of it. There are big windows, but all of them have blinds; only some of them are open to let some light in. His eyes now focus on Lexy, crouched in front of Sam, putting on heels on her. His eyebrows furrow, clearly confused. She’s dressed as… goth..?

“Hi Xavier. I’m Morticia Addams.” Sam smiles. “What are you doing here? Did she call you?”

“Oh. Nice to meet you Morticia.” He steps closer to her, showing the paper bag again. “No, I.. She forgot to have breakfast today.. So.. I brought her something. Where is..” he looks around a bit.

“Xavier?” You didn’t see him come in, but recognized his voice now. His head immediately turns to face the origin of your voice, but he only sees a big reflector. He nods to both girls before walking towards you, searching for your face as his eyebrows furrow and his eyes make him look like a lost puppy, trying not to step on anything.

He gets around the reflector, looking at his feet so as to not step on any cable, and as soon as he lifts his head, his heart drops.

Oh my. God. Oh my God, you’re beautiful.

He stops in his tracks as you smile at him with squinted eyes, his eyes scanning over your body, your.. dress. Your dress, white as snow, gradiently turning into blue like his eyes.

His lips part and his hands get weak - he’s putting in so much effort so his knees don’t give out -, feeling a warm feeling creeping up on his neck, something indescribable getting stuck on his throat as his eyes get warm and wet.

You’re. A Bride.

And you are the most beautiful one he has ever seen.

The light hits your face just right, and he’s hypnotized by your glowing chest, your plump rosy lips, the way your makeup is light, magnifying your natural and beautiful features.

He discreetly licks his lips looking at the nape of your neck, exposed because of your tied hair and oh-so delicate it looks like it might break if he dares to touch. Your hair..

You are so.. The love of his life.

“Xavier?” You call again, tilting your head. And as you do, he notices the blue hair pin, it’s a flower. His flower. It’s a forget me not. His feet are glued to the ground as he tries to breathe in, but his throat is now dry and feeling too tight to function. God. You were beautiful. He’d never get tired of telling you that.

Did you.. Did you do it on purpose…? Is he supposed to…? Should he..

His mind is trying to think of what this could mean, but he just can’t do it if you’re looking at him like that. Looking like this. He feels like his chest is going to implode, something warm and tight spreading over his whole torso, making his throat clench.

“You’re.. a bride?” His voice comes out too soft, almost a whisper, and you can only tell what he said because you were looking at his lips the whole time.

“Yes. I am. But I’m not ready yet! Do you know the Corpse bride?” You smile, feeling your cheeks hot from how he was staring you down. “I’ll be her today. I'll be painting myself blue for it.” You look down, facing the dress you just put on before he came in.

“Y-yes. I know. her..” He quickly looks away as he feels like his eyes are getting dangerously wet and a tear might fall at any moment. In reality, he has no idea who is the corpse bride. Isn’t a corpse supposed to be scary? How can you look so ethereal in front of him like that?

He looks down to see a small stool, and he figures he needs to get out of here as soon as possible. He’s not going to be able to hold back any longer. So he places the paper bag on it.

“I.. brought you food..” he touches the back of his neck, swallowing hard. “Please eat. I’m leaving now.” He takes one more glance at you, trying to commit to memory every single detail about you.

Everything around you is blurred like a halo, and it makes him feel so small - he's convinced the world could swallow him while right now.

He'd do anything for you. He'd be anything for you. And he wants to marry you. Now.

“Oh my.. thank you, Xavier!” You get up, walking towards him. His heart skips a beat as you place a hand on his bicep. “You saved me. Thank you.”

Saving you?! This is saving you?! You’re telling him that bringing you breakfast is saving you, when he’d burn the seven seas dry for you?!

He gulps down. You’re so close. He needs to leave, or else he might just propose right now. His hands itch, craving to hold you close and kiss you until you're out of breath and full of him. In all senses of the word.

“No problem.. I’ll get going.” He stares at your lips, walking backwards towards the door. “Have fun.” His voice falters but he can’t get himself to care as he grabs the doorknob like it’s his lifeline, walking out.

You're left confused, but all of your worries are lifted when you shift your attention to the paperbag in front of you.

—

Anne comes back, and as soon as she gets out of the elevator she sees Xavier as he is letting out a loud sigh and sliding down against the wall, hugging his knees. She rushes to him, worried.

“Uhm-” She doesn’t know his name. “Are you.. okay?” She asks, bending down a little to talk to him.

He looks up, eyes puffy and lips red. “I am. I’m sorry. I’ll be leaving soon. Don’t worry about me.” he starts masking his emotions again, feeling embarrassed of being caught like this.

But she can see how his chin imperceptibly quivers and how he’s breathing unsteadily.

“What happened? That is not the face of someone who is ‘okay’.”

She wonders if you broke up with him just now.

“I am.” He stands, now taller than her, patting his knees to see if they can hold him up again. He takes a deep breath in and out, and she looks up at him, confused.

“My girlfriend is beautiful isn’t she.” He smiles a little, convincing himself for a moment that you are, in fact, his girlfriend. He can't take it anymore, he searched high and low for you, he's never been so sure of something. Never desired something more than he does you. But for you... It's too soon. He'll wait.

He looks at Anne, waiting for an answer.

“Yes, she is…?” Anne answers after a moment, and analyzes his whole face, scanning for a reason for him to be like this. “Is that why.. you’re..?” She asks, placing a hand on the doorknob.

“Yes.” He dries up his eyes with his sleeves. “I’m leaving now. Please don’t mention it to her.” He bows softly, starting to walk away.

Anne is left in a mix of confusion with awe. Is this the real reason? How can someone cry so much over a lover’s appearance? She opens the door.

And as soon as she does, you’re eating a sandwich in your unfinished costume bride dress, laughing.

“Oh, I get it now.” She mutters to herself, shaking her head, smiling. "She is his bride."

Chapter 1 here | Bonus chapter

[joseline-woodhouse]

So I was rereading Nevermore and I kept thinking about the difference in character dynamics between Lenore and Annabel Lee in the flashbacks and in Nevermore Academy. I always kinda felt like there was some sort of mirroring going on and I think I am beginning to see a bit of a bigger picture in it.

What interests me the most is that Annabel Lee and Lenore, while staying the same people with the same personalities, have switched rolls completely after they died. I will jabber about this now.

Annabel Lee and Lenore have like I just said kept their personalities. Both pre- and postmortem Annabel Lee are bored by most things, silly and cheeky to the bone (probably to cope with her boredom and anxiety), careful, calculative and a manipulative people pleaser who thinks it's better for herself to mask all the time. She seeks barely anything except for a game, gambit or other thrill that can distract her for a second.

Lenore is both pre- and postmortem a stubborn, headstrong, straight forward and brave woman, who acts mostly out of impulse and really doesn't care to see the greater picture, who keeps letting her pride and temper get the better of her. She hates playing games, jumping around the bush and pretending to be someone she's not (character wise, impersonation is on the table).

Now here it gets more interesting. Like I said, the two of them switched roles entirely.

Lenore was the one who had nothing to lose except for Annabel when they were alive, Annabel has nothing to lose except for Lenore now that they're dead.

It was Lenore who burned down her family estate and did seemingly not care about the staff possibly burning to death. It was Lenore who got desperate and willing to throw everything away when it seemed like Annabel would be lost to her. It was Lenore who decided to be someone else (Leo) so that she and Annabel can get a happy ending. It was Lenore who was a threat to the things that Annabel had to lose and assumed/hoped Annabel would be okay with it. Meanwhile Annabel Lee made it clear to Lenore that she can't misbehave too much, that her disposition and the status of her father are a top priority to her, something Lenore completely ignored by showing up as a man and proposing to Annabel, making a fool out of Annabel and her father if it ever came out.

Annabel is the one with nothing to lose now. She made it clear from the start that she's not here to make friends and will throw each and every person that isn't Lenore under the bus the very moment it is convenient. It is her, who's willing to give her life if Lenore doesn't trust her. It is her freaking out completely when Lenore seems to be lost to her. It is her deciding she will pretend to be someone completely different to get a happy end with Lenore. It is Annabel who is a Danger to the things Lenore has to lose, because she assumes/hopes Lenore has the same dedication to their relationship. Lenore however now has friends that she cares about deeply and has made this clear to Annabel.

I think this is also a big part of why Annabel is so okay with ignoring that Lenore said her friends were important. Because Annabel thinks she perfectly knows Lenore and that Lenore will get over a few casualties and not care that much in the end. She thus far remembers only the Lenore who is willing to go over a few corpses to be with her, she does not remember why Lenore was like that. She may remember that there was noone to care about for Lenore, she does however not remember just how desperate Lenore's situation used to be and that her actions have been made not only out of love but also out of that exact desperation.

I am excited to see if this will continue and how or if they will break out of the very uneven codependency that followed them into death.

[loser4loserswhok1ll]

First Meetings + Touches With The Slashers

How you meet and how your first touch goes

Headcanons

Sfw, fluff, some angst, slashers learning how love works and sort of failing</3, GN reader

Includes: Martin Mathias, Brahms Heelshire, Michael Myers (RZ), Norman Bates, Kurt Kunkle

💉Martin Mathias

It was.. awkward.

you were spinning slowly on the roundabout thing at the park with Martin

it was late at night, pitch black out, and you guys were just existing together, talking only every now and then

youve done this since martin moved into town

you guys met when he delivered a package to your house and when you came to put it away for your mother you instantly wanted to know this kid

he looked around your age and you think he felt the same

so you guys just became friends and sat in the silence of the other like this often

you did most of the talking as Martin just watched silently, only chiming in every once in a while when something really caught his interest

at some point deep into a comfortably one sided conversation, your hand slid slightly and gently rested on his

you didnt notice, but oh god he did

he just stared at your hands and shifted uncomfortably but not in a disgusted or hateful way, more like a cautious and unsure way

it took a moment before you looked over and realized and you moved your hand back almost immediately

he just stared at you with those puppy eyes, mouth slightly open showing the tips of his front teeth (cute stuff yknow?)

You apologized but he just,,, stared. scanned you. observed you.

it took a moment before anyone spoke, and shockingly, it was him

"Its ok. your hands are warm.. s'okay. I promise." and he said it so soft and in that awkwardly boyish manner that he has

that made you smile gently, easing the tension, putting your hand back in its spot comfortably

it was a peaceful night and an even more peaceful comfort between you two

🗝Brahms Heelshire

the actual first time he touched you wasnt even when you were awake

that wall freak snuck into your room when you were asleep and petted you basically

but the first time when you were awake was when he decided it was finally time

he just couldnt wait to reveal himself any longer, he would go insane if he had to watch his goodnight kisses be wasted on some hollow porcelain again and again

he tried to be gentle, soft, tried not to scare you

of course you were damn near terrified to death

a tall and strangely muscular man just lumbered out of the wall, the very same walls youve spent months in between, months living with, and yet never once did you think they were a living space themselves

it took you time before you could calm down, painfully long before you even let brahms take a step closer to you

but when you let him, he was overjoyed

he gently grabbed you and nearly swallowed you with his arms, taking a very obvious and harsh sniff of your hair

that was the first of many lingering hugs and touches so you should probably adjust to this new life soon- for your own sanity

🔪RZ Michael Myers

oh, and make a new list of rules

you werent supposed to be there, actually

there was a halloween party going on at the myers house (and it wasnt even a good one smh)

you didnt want to go but your friends didnt want to walk alone (and they definitely needed a chaperone to walk them home)

so you walked them there, dropped them off, and gave them a time when youd be back to wrangle them (also chastising them for disrespecting the house and the myers family so horribly)

you had a nice evening to yourself, 0 worries, watching some slasher films alone (house of wax, wolf creek, house of 1000 corpses, yknow the good stuff)

time to get your friends unfortunately *sigh*

you turn off the tv and make your way to the myers house

there are.. a lot.. A LOT.. of police

in a panic you sprinted through every shortcut possible to make it there

one of those shortcuts was through bushes and in between neighboring houses fences

thats where you bumped into him

you looked up and froze, fear paralysis, staring at the blood splattered ghost white face- no- mask

from your end, you were sure you were gonna die

from michaels end, he didnt know what to do with you

he saw you ramble on about how these dumb drunks should just let the myers family rest and they were disrespecting them and blahblahblah

because of that he wasnt going to kill you

but here you guys are, body pressed on body, between bushes and fences, staring at eachother

he made the first move and you flinched and blocked your head with your arms instinctively

he didnt do anything, just left you there to collapse into a ball of fear and confusion

anyways he had to contemplate why he liked the warmth of your body against his so much (and why its been in his mind for weeks after the incident)

oh also ur friends are dead :p

🛎Norman Bates

you were just a normal guest

just passing through but it got late and it isnt safe to drive when youre so sleepy

so you pulled into the nearest motel you could find and low and behold its the bates motel!

you got your stuff and checked in

you just assumed norman was this shaky and nervous around everyone

norman knows hes not. at least not to the degree that you made him

god the moment he layed his little puppy dog eyes on you he was in shambles

you are the definition of what he desires

mothers pissed!

he helped you bring your stuff to your room and you guys talked about anything and everything

he invited you to eat dinner with him after you mentioned you hadnt eaten

you unfortunately refused because your exhausted tanked your hunger by a long shot

as he was going to leave you touched his arm gently, a friendly touch

you thanked him and he shakily gave a thank you back for choosing his motel and being so kind and being so gentle and for being so- he should really get going now before he rambles too much and loses his dignity, shouldnt he?

you laughed softly at his behavior and gave him a kind goodnight before closing the door and readying yourself to sleep

norman basically booked it back to his house

mother had an earful for him but he was so dazed and stupid from the things he was feeling for you

the absence of your warm fingertips on his arm made him crazy, he wanted longer touches and he wanted to feel that warmth endlessly

he was very adamant you stay in the bates motel again soon when you checked out the next morning (much to mothers dismay)

📱Kurt Kunkle

he was your spree driver (so unexpected ikr)

you got into his car when he pulled up and happily greeted him

he liked your kindness, he likes not awful people a ton

was real awkward with you but you didnt seem to mind (you were also a little awkward so it was like a mutual thing)

you asked him about the cameras and he told you it was for some webseries about safety as a driver or something (he said it very strangely so you kinda didnt trust him)

you leaned forward to talk with him more and you guys really hit it off

he thought you were cool, you thought he was a total weirdo

perfect match

the drive was painfully short though so you had to leave soon after you got in

when you got out you knocked on his window and complimented his service

you also gave him your number and he gladly took it

after exchanging numbers you placed your hand on his shoulder while thanking him

he went RED and stuttered out a 'your welcome' and also rambled about how hed love to drive you more often and stuff

after you left dude had to take a BREATHER

he wants you back in his car NEOW

rides the high that your touch gave him for the rest of the day (even a little bit the next day too)

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously

parings -> ( eventually ) enhypen x reader genre -> soulmate au, fantasy au, angst warnings -> angst, mention of burns / attack word count -> 1.4k

abstract -> sports day is coming but Sooha isn't any closer to befriending the witch and Niki and Sunghoon seem to be further from their soulmate accepting them anytime soon...

y/n's perspective 

The school has opened many things. Last week's announcements were a success, the complaint box was questionable but the school mandated it, and field day was the most looked forward to event which was finally approved. 

“Okay, with all these rules, there will be different pairings. The school will randomize the students and equalize the number of students from each school in the different groups” I explained. 

“Student council will not be a part of field day, besides the select few who asked for the waiver at the beginning of the week,” Wonyoung said and it was made so student council students didn’t cheat or rig an event. 

“So have your planned assignments ready, i’ll review them when you’re done” Wonyoung announced and they nodded. 

“y/n, do you know if students are banned from events, yet?” EJ asked and I nodded. “These are the files of each school’s banned list, this is because of powers, suspensions, etcetera. If they’d like to waiver it they need to request a meeting with the counselors” I explained and they nodded. 

“If you have any questions please ask an event planner” I said as everyone started leaving or planning. I was gonna leave when I was about to run into Niki… I had to be more careful.

“I wanted to know why my waiver wasn’t approved?” he asked and I sighed.

“Your powers–" "I know, but I really wanted to participate,'' he begged and I sighed seeing how badly he wanted to participate. “I don’t think you can, I'm sorry Niki, '' I apologize. I came to realize he was very athletic and must've looked forward to this. “I just don’t want to be standing around doing nothing” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Do you want to be an instructor? You’d be able to determine who wins and how to do things correctly? I was gonna ask K but if–" "Could I?!” he yelled and soon bowed, apologizing for his outburst. It was cute. 

“Don’t apologize. I’ll write you up for it, okay?” I asked and he nodded happily. 

“Thank you!” he said and I smiled at the energetic boy. He didn’t talk to me often but I knew he was my other soulmate. He didn’t really show skinship with Sooha, I noticed that. She’s mainly ever like that with the oldest ones in their group… and sometimes Jungwon but it got better. 

“Are you sure giving him so much power is okay?” I heard Sunoo. “He’ll be fine,” I said and he chuckled. “Sure… and when he purposely makes his favorites win, it'll be on you, miss president” he teased. 

“Oh yeah? Are you gonna overthrow me?” I asked and he laughed. “Maybe I should,” he said, and before we could say more I heard a gag. “Seriously in public?” I heard and I laughed. “Eunchae?” I asked and she smiled. “Dinner… with the girls, come on,” she said as she dragged me away. 

“Wonnie!!” fun fact… Jungwon and Wonyoung hated each other. Mainly because they share the same nickname. 

“Wonyoung!” Eunchae corrected and Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Take that leech! Your own girlfriend chooses me over you!” she taunted and he glared at the girl.

“Sure Wonyoung” he said in a monotone tired voice and she scoffed. 

“Hmph, let's go!”

niki’s perspective

y/n was always with Jungwon and Sunoo… or with her friends.

I didn’t know how to approach her and recently I've been helping with cheering up Sunghoon… he's slowly becoming a corpse.

But he hasn’t tried gaining her attention, instead leaving the situation alone.

“Niki, take it easy with her! Don’t overwhelm her!” Sunoo scolded Jungwon by his side also.

“Boys!” I heard as I saw Sooha happily yell at us from our regular table. “What happened today?” Heeseung asked. Since he’s vice president he wasn’t in the meeting today since it was mainly to plan.

“Event planning for the sports day. We were going over regulations” Jungwon explained.

“Who should we look out for?” Jay asked and I laughed. We were definitely more competitive so we needed to win for the Decelis

“Well the Riverfield council is gonna be a threat… the humans I have really no idea, but witches play dirty” Sunoo explained.

“Dirty? That’s unfair then!” Sooha said and for a second I realized Sunghoon was still in the same state…

It’s been a week and yet he’s still badly coping… “Witches are granted to use their powers in some of the games, Sooha” Sunoo said. “Ooh! Is y/n playing?!” She asked and I shook my head.

“Why not?” she soon asked me with a pout… she’s been wanting to play with y/n ever since sports day was announced.

“Her powers aren’t suitable to be playing, because of her specializing in blood magic, being around vampires isn’t a good idea” I explained and she nodded.

“She’ll be watching only,” Jungwon said and I soon felt Sunoo judging me. “Oh and I’m not allowed to play” I said and they looked at me confused.

“What!? I thought y/n was gonna get it fixed for you!” Jay said and I shook my head.

“I can’t play since it’ll be unfair with my powers but I’ll be an instructor!” I said proudly and they didn’t look happy…

“So you’re gonna cheat?” Heeseung asked and I punched him.

“I would never!” 

“I want to join the student council!” I heard and honestly, I was shocked… “W-what?” Jungwon stuttered and she smiled softly. “Well… Wonyoung told me recently that I can’t be in the  meetings since I'm not a student–""Why is it any of her business?” Jake said annoyed at the mention of a witch.

Recently… especially with Sunghoon getting rejected, he has been very annoyed with Bright Sun… “Huh… Well, she’s right. Besides, I see this as getting y/n to be friends–""Sooha, let it go already. She’s a bitch to you, she rejected Sunghoon… just stop wanting to be friends with her” Jake said and I saw Jungwon glare at our hyung…

“Jake… shut up!” Sunoo said and he scoffed.

“Why should I? You really can’t see how rude she is? To Sooha… and look at Sunghoon!” Jake argued and he only shook his head… “She has every reason to hate us… she didn’t accept Jungwon at first either” Sunghoon defended and Jake scoffed.

“Jake stop–” “Not you too Heeseung” he interrupted and the oldest sighed… he couldn’t have a say in it… but I had a bad feeling about how Jake was acting.

“I need air”

jake’s perspective

Everything was better before the merge, before meeting y/n, before meeting Riverfrield… y/n wasn’t Sooha, she was my soulmate but Sooha would always be more to me than the little witch would.

I walked with no destination… So why was I here?

“Oh… hello?” she said and I felt annoyed at seeing her. “Stay away from Sooha” I warned and she looked shocked but shrugged. “You should tell her that,” she said indifferently and I scoffed. 

“What are you trying to say? You are nothing but mean to her!” I yelled and she looked confused… “I’ve never once been mean to her! I have every right to but I don’t” she said and I laughed. 

“It's not my fault hyung loves her more than you, that I do her more than you,” I said and I saw her flinch a little until scoffing.  

“Gonna pull a Heeseung and reject me too?” she asked and I got closer… I grabbed the collar of her uniform tightly as I made sure to look her in the eyes. 

I felt the tingles you would at touching your soulmate… but I wouldn’t let that blind me. 

“I’m rejecting you… you’re nothing but a servant of nature. And if you don’t stay away from Sooha or the rest of us will make your life a living hell” I said and her face contorted with fear… it was better this way… so why did I smell burning?

“y/n!” I heard as I let her go and I saw one of her roommates… I then looked back at y/n who was on the floor now shuffling away from me… I saw the burnt clothes and even some of her skin? 

Did I lose control again?

“Hyung!” I heard as I saw Niki… he looked at what the room was.

It looked bad…

y/n was on the floor… she was crying and whimpering, burns hurt. I know that's because I’ve accidentally done it to people like I did with her. 

“y/n are you–” “No… stay over there” she said and I saw Niki’s face fall, like he was heartbroken. I was frozen. I heard sobs and coaxing words… I couldn’t stop looking at my hands. 

I was suddenly grabbed and taken away. I then felt something hit me in the face. 

“You’re dead”

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[skyethel]

What does Judith Butler know about loading her son’s corpse in a cab? What does she know about the horror of turning a taxi into a hearse?

im so mad. i've been in mourning and a state of constant rage for palestine for the past few years, and these past weeks have been especially devastating. while im not palestinian myself, i have friends and family that are, and i cant help but be on edge about the things they cant afford to think about right now.

i read their 'thought piece'. its nothing new on that front, and thats why it makes me so mad. im really struggling to connect with the blind, white-american privilege of calling for non-violence in the face of a genocidal apartheid regime. the fucking gall of these so-called western intellectuals to preach how rampant anti-intellectualism has become just to turn around and buy into some colonial playbook of peace shit is hilarious. people i thought were with me on this, not only on palestinian liberation but on liberation full stop, have been a constant disappointment. i cut off so many ppl i called friends over the absolute lack of grace and empathy they handled this with. when are white western 'activists' going to stop treating us like timed bombs of irrationality?

this part in particular kept coming up and made me feel like i was going insane:

"When, however, the Harvard Palestine Solidarity Committee issues a statement claiming that ‘the apartheid regime is the only one to blame’ for the deadly attacks by Hamas on Israeli targets, it makes an error. It is wrong to apportion responsibility in that way, and nothing should exonerate Hamas from responsibility for the hideous killings they have perpetrated...The necessity of separating an understanding of the pervasive and relentless violence of the Israeli state from any justification of violence is crucial if we are to consider what other ways there are to throw off colonial rule"

literally nobody is asking anyone to 'exonerate' hamas. hamas is a military organization fighting the US-backed israeli occupation with smuggled weapons that is active in 365 km² at best. hamas is not even in the orbit when it comes to comparisons to israel.

israel said it with its own mouth that hamas is a product of israeli occupation. this isnt a matter of opinion, right? or am i too far left to think that a brutal occupation will radicalize its victims? and they gave them the means to become a 'terrorist organization'? how are you claiming to care about palestinians if you don't bother unsubscribing from the very schools of thought that constructed the occupation in the first place?

some of you 'leftists' have been lying about what you've been reading because where are the frantz fanon quotes you like to throw around, huh? where's the malcolm x, the angela davis? where are your insta posts with chomsky's books?

holy shit WHAT OTHER WAYS?

keep our communities out of your mouth. we are not some thought experiment you can exercise your conscience on. we're watching an ethnic cleansing unfold, and instead of supporting palestinians so many of you are playing out your own little fantasies of the 'progressive' solidarity you fail to show. sometimes, you need to fucking stop and listen instead of consulting the higher morality police on whether you need to 'contextualize' your incompetence.

[zahri-melitor]

I think one of the interesting things about comics is the depth of characterisation. And one of the ways characters get that depth is by effectively ending up hypocrites. And how they get there is by taking a story where often people are yelling that it's bad characterisation, and looking at it to work out 'okay, but it happened, how do I fanwank that into fitting?'

It's the next line on from 'he would never say that!" Okay, but now he has said that. What made him say that, and why? What do you have to do to the character to set him up to say that?

Because generally, I would in most circumstances find a way to make the story fit, rather than discard it. Because by working out how to fit it, it can deepen characterisation, by showing when and why they cross a line.

For instance, take Dick. Dick in Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul is convinced that trying to resurrect loved ones in a Lazarus Pit is a lost cause and you won't get back the person you lost. Dick in Batman & Robin 2009 however puts what he thinks is Bruce's corpse in a Lazarus Pit to try and get Bruce back. That, on the surface, is an obvious contradiction. Why is Dick crossing that line? Well, Dick's a hypocrite, because when it's Bruce, he has to try, even though deep down he's aware it's a lost cause. A contradiction that almost certainly occurred because Morrison fundamentally does not pay attention to what other writers are doing with characters leads to a situation that gives more depth to Dick and Bruce's relationship, because we see where Dick had to struggle with his own instincts.

Take Tim. On the face of it, Tim and Damian's rivalry was unexpected and out of character. Tim is a character who makes friends easily, has worked with difficult characters and antiheroes on multiple occasions, who is good with children and known to form solid bonds with them. Yet Morrison clearly wanted Tim off panel and unavailable for their story, and so...Tim's reaction to Damian's arrival turns into a rivalry. And the reason why it works? Because we find that Tim and Damian are simultaneously occupying the other's biggest blindspot and insecurity. Tim has to work hard to accept Damian (and Damian equally has to work hard to accept Tim) because of how much they press the other's buttons. And it's a huge part of their long term relationship now! But on the face of it, it was not an expected reaction on Tim's part, especially since in the same period, Tim is extremely sweet and welcoming working with Chris Kent and Helena Kyle.

Take Barbara and Helena. The thing I love most about Babs and Helena's relationship is the layers of conflict that build up between then. Because while some writers gloss it as "Babs is jealous that Helena and Dick had a one-night stand", that's not all of it or even the largest part of it. Helena, by becoming The Bat in No Man's Land very specifically did something calculated to piss Barbara off: she saw Helena as trying to be Batgirl, and a Batgirl who was violent and ready to kill if necessary, of having assumed the mantle without asking. And Babs hated that. But equally, Helena had reasonable grievances: she wasn't thinking of Batgirl, she was trying to be BatMAN, and Barbara is rude to her and often refuses to work with her even as Babs will support other violent characters (Jean-Paul particularly in that period) and sides with Bruce against Helena. Helena doesn't like Babs because she sees Barbara as too close to Bruce and not getting called out for her behaviour (almost shooting Black Mask in No Man's Land!). Barbara doesn't like Helena as she won't follow the rules that keep vigilantes safe and working with the GCPD in Gotham (and because she's got a jealous personality and yeah, doesn't particularly like people who've slept with Dick). And this complex net of perfectly reasonable dislike between the two makes their relationship far more interesting, even as it built up largely via writers who did not care why they disliked each other and just wrote them as 'jealous' because women don't like other women, right?

Take Bruce and his varying reactions to his children dying. Because even as some of it is tied up in Dc's changing approach to the finality of death between the 1980s and present, it says such interesting things about Bruce, because Bruce was torn up but put in the work to move past his grief over Jason's death, to move on and keep living, to the point he rejected a villain offering the opportunity to resurrect Jason (Neron, in Underworld Unleashed). And that contrasts to the way he reacted to Damian's death, where he tried to accept it, but kicked and fought once a villain offered the opportunity to resurrect Damian and worked to get Damian back alive, in the most desperate circumstances. And that also contrasts to Tim's 'death', where Bruce is again horribly cut up and guilty over it, but accepts the death and doesn't investigate it like he does Jason or Damian's, leading to the situation where Tim is certain that Bruce will come to rescue him, but Bruce isn't even looking because he's sure Tim is dead and he's not fighting to get him back. And that's hypocritical! Bruce fights so much harder to get Damian back than the other two! Tim has to rescue himself, and Bruce is horrified when he realises that he should have been looking for Tim, especially when Tim fought so hard to find him when he was missing. It's a contradiction! It says things about Bruce's reactions to the deaths of loved ones around him and how far he'll go to get them back. Because Bruce will not resurrect his parents (Tower of Babel you will always be famous). He won't resurrect Alfred or Jason or Tim. But he did resurrect Damian.

And so, when I read Damian getting stroppy in Batman #149 over Bruce's Zur-Clone, I both see why people who are very fond of Damian think it's bad characterisation, but I also see it and think: Damian's being a hypocrite, and he's hurt and cut by the fact that Bruce's focus isn't on him.

Yes, Damian has a fascinating relationship with his own clones in Robin: Son of Batman. I've read it, and I saw his growth and acceptance of his disfigured clones, who he saw as representations of the bad parts of him that also deserved acceptance. That's some powerful imagery. But just because Damian accepts his own clones, doesn't mean he is going to be accepting of someone else's. Damian's rude and pointed about Kon's existence as a clone. For Damian to be grumpy and disparaging over the personhood of a brand new, fast aging clone who attacked him? Yeah, that's a personal hypocrisy I can see.

Everyone was just fine about beating up and destroying the Failsafe robots and ZEA robot Batman, who also had transplanted personalities. There are plenty of robots in DC who are awarded humanoid status (the Metal Men and Red Tornado just for starters). What is the line that makes ZEA robot Batman not 'human' but Bruce's Zur-Clone human? If Damian's mentally categorising the clone with Zur rather than in the set of 'human', of course he thinks Bruce is dwelling and obsessing over a clone that is shortly going to die, and who he doesn't see as being worth fighting to save.

And so what is a bit of characterisation largely for narrative reasons (Zdarsky wanted someone in the scene to go 'why are you fighting for this, Bruce') turns into another layer of the Damian story: where he can be a little hypocrite, who often reacts very differently when an issue is personal to him to when a similar issue is affecting someone else. That's repeated behaviour for him. Damian doesn't tend to react well to other characters getting attention that he sees as his.

I dunno. I see the complaints but it's also something that I can very easily fanwank into my perception of the character. It gives Damian more depth. Contradictions often do.

[moonlightazriel]

What's mine to take /// Feysand x F!Reader

Summary: When the past comes back to haunt you, can you really run away from it?

Warnings: War, blood, canon divergent, mentions of death, death of a character.

Word Count: 1,7K

Notes: I had this idea based on Other Friends by Steven Universe a long while ago, but I was always afraid to mess with one of the most loved couples in the fandom, but now I said fuck it and let's do it.

Main Masterlist

“There’s something wrong on the battlefield!” Azriel alerted, his shadows recoiling in fear, he felt the cold sweat running down the column of his neck, his head whipping towards the powerful source that just entered the field.

“This scent, it feels so familiar.” Morrigan said, sword in hands. “I felt the same scent in Hybern’s castle when he trapped us.”

Monsters made of pure darkness started to sprout in the middle of the bloody field, Rhysand watched it in horror, how could they defeat them now? Hybern's army kept marching forward, with renewed confidence.

“We need to find the source!” Feyre said, her whole body shivered. The temperature dropped even further as a beautiful winged female landed in front of the group.

“Well, well, well!” Her voice was soft, and she raised a hand, shielding her eyes from the sun. “ Let me take a look at the menagerie.”

“This can't be.” Morrigan was pale, like she had seen a ghost, and as recognition started to settle within the group, the males also felt their bodies shivering in fear.

“It can, and it is!” She spoke in a condescending tone. “I got a new style.” She swayed her head, her soft locks of onyx hair moving behind her back with the motion. “And a few new toys that are going to put an end to your happily ever after.” She pointed to the shadow army, each time a soldier tried to attack the things, they dissolved around the blade, assuming a new form and killing the bearer.

The whole group watched even more horrified as the shadows entered the corpse, the deceased soldier rising to their feet, sword in hands and turning against their own army.

“Y/N I…” Rhysand spoke, his voice and expression dark something about all of that didn't sit well with Feyre, who was that female that even the most powerful High Lord in history was afraid of?

“Oh hello Rhys. The star of the show.” Her expression was cold.

“Please, I can explain.” Feyre watched her mate step forward, towards her.

“Yeah yeah, I've heard.” She walked forward, grabbing Feyre’s chin and tilting her head around, inspecting her face. “Did you really think that after all this time I wouldn't find out about her?” She smiled at Feyre, a beautiful lethal smile. “She's really pretty, I see the appeal.”

“That's not what I thought, please don't hurt any of them, let's solve this between us.” Rhysand pleaded but the female rolled her eyes, letting Feyre go.

“This can't be serious.” Azriel spoke.

“It really is her!” Cassian pointed out and Feyre turned to him.

“Do you know her, Cass? Can you tell me who she is?” She begged and the female laughed, the insanity leaking through the cracks of her well contained vessel.

“Who am I? Who am I? I'm the loser of the game you didn't know you were playing. Let's play another game, this time I got to win.” She conjured a sword of shadows, assuming a fight instance. “Lives on the line, winner takes all! Ready or not, let's begin.”

And then she attacked, her body easily avoiding all the attacks the inner circle tried to make, like she could predict their moves, like she knew their fighting style.

Exhausting, fighting her was exhausting, her powers were way beyond anything Feyre had ever seen, even more powerful than Rhysand. Beneath them, Hybern slayed them, their efforts wouldn't be enough to defeat her army, nothing they could do was enough to stop her.

Feyre watched as she held Rhysand’s bloodied face in between her hands, spinning his neck until she was facing Feyre, in the corner she was trying to hide.

“Show her, show her who I am.” Rhys mumbled something, but what she said next was what made Feyre completely frozen in place. “You can fake the bond between you two all you want, but the bond that you try so hard to hide between us, will be broken today.”

His talons scrapped her mental shields and Feyre lowered them, she needed to know what this all meant. The first thing she saw was kind eyes, Y/N couldn't be older than 20 in that vision. Her giggle sounded all around Feyre's head.

“My beautiful mate.” Rhys spoke, his eyes glowing with happiness, and Feyre felt, stronger than ever, the scent of their mating bond filled her senses and she felt her head dizzy. “I can't believe the bond snapped for us. This is the best day of my life. I'm going to love you forever.” He promised.

“We met as kids.” The female voice sounded and Feyre turned around, seeing her leaning in a corner, teary eyes as she looked at that memory too. “It was his mother that prevented me from having my wings clipped, and it was for me she did all of those dresses.”

The memories changed in front of her eyes, happy moments she shared with Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian. Her braiding Rhysand's sister's hair, helping his mom in the kitchen. Feyre saw his mom taking her measurements as he watched from afar, happiness laced him, he looked so young and so in love with her.

“We were around our twenties when the bond snapped, he had promised me that no matter what happened, nothing would ever break us apart, nothing would ever change in between us.”

And in her mind, those words were echoed by a much younger Rhys, promises of a future together, being the rulers of the Night Court together. All the love they shared couldn't have disappeared like that.

“But once you get the taste of the power, you will always crave more.”

The memories changed, looking darker and more heavy than the others, Rhys paced around the House of Wind, his violet eyes like a raging storm as he looked at her.

“You made me look weak in front of them, you embarrassed me.” He sounded angry and Y/N flinched, her cheeks stained with dark makeup.

“I'm sorry, I just wanted to dance with you.” He rolled his eyes and a growl left his lips.

“I don't care about what you want, you will never embarrass me again in front of my enemies.” He left the room, leaving her crying on the couch, being approached by Cassian who held her in his arms.

“He always thought I was weak, he never knew what lay underneath my skin, my mother had forced me to keep my powers hidden, and a High King can't have someone weak on their side. When he went to Amarantha, he was seeking her for her powers, frustrated that she had her heart set on Tamlin, that's why he used you, to prove to her that Tamlin would never want her.”

Feyre felt her guts spinning inside her, she wanted to throw up. She turned away from the memory of their last day together before Rhysand went Under the Mountain. Her bloody and battered body as Rhysand had tried to get rid of her, suppressing their bond until he couldn't feel her faintly hanging by a thread to the little life she still had inside her.

“It was my power that brought me back, the thing I neglected the most was what saved me in the end, while the only thing I loved the most tried to get rid of me.” Spiteful, she was spiteful of him and rightfully so. “I worked on my powers, you see, heartbreak is a really good motivation to be better. When I heard about you and how he had claimed that after the tragic death of his mate, the cauldron had blessed him with another one I laughed, like I never did before.”

The content of her stomach was left on the floor right by her side, Feyre felt sick, like all of that was a joke with her, a big lie to make fun of her, but she felt the faint emotions on the other side of the closed bond Rhysand kept so well hidden, felt the pain and the betrayal radiating from the female. She felt all of that, the truth of what he had done.

“They believed him, they all believed him. He has always been the perfect liar, with a face like his and powers like the ones he has, it was easy to convince people of whatever he wanted them to believe.”

“I've been in his mind so many times, I never found anything.” Feyre dared to say.

“You can't compare your experience with centuries worth of being a Daemati darling, it's not even fair.” She chuckled with her innocence. “He took everything away from me and he must pay the price for his actions, he always wanted more power, to be above everyone else, he always dreamed of being High King of Prythian, and his greed and narcissism are going to be his downfall.”

Feyre watched as the plan formed in his mind, to get someone like her on his side, the girl brought back to life carrying the powers of all courts, faking a mating bond so she wouldn't have any options than wanting to be with him, bound to him forever and ruling over Prythian with him. She felt disgusted. She closed her mental shields, looking around her, Azriel and Cassian being restrained by her monsters, Mor lying unconscious. And Rhysand, the male she had given her heart to, the male who had broken Y/N beyond repair.

“You see…” She turned Rhysand around, having him looking at her in the eyes, she wanted her to be the last thing he ever saw. “I'm not a monster, I'm just doing what's right, getting justice for what was done to me.” With a shadow coated hand, she pressed her nails in his chest, Rhysand whining and tears falling to the sides of his face as she wrapped her hand around his heart.

Feyre gasped in horror as she saw Y/N pulling her hand away from the cavity in his chest, his heart pumping droplets of blood everywhere as she inspected the muscular organ.

“It's still beating.” She turned to Feyre with a cruel smile. “But who does it truly beat for, Feyre darling?”

[grandmother-goblin]

A Good Kind of Distraction

Ao3 - Masterlist

Summary: Through no fault of his own, Halsin had been distracting Astarion - constantly invading his thoughts and just being annoyingly nice. Not only that, Astarion seemed to have bad luck while Halsin was around. Halsin always showed up at just the right moment to help him out, regardless of whether or not he needed it.

While searching for his missing dagger after a fight with some Stone Lord thugs, Astarion finds himself in trouble again and guess who is there to help him out?

Relationships: Astarion x Halsin

Rating: Teen (for some mild violence and blood)

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: Fluff, humor, a little kissing, Halsin is a little bit sassy. Written for @silveredbark

Astarion’s heel dug into the sand as he yanked one of his daggers from the still-warm corpse of a dragonborn. The dragonborn, along with several other of his now deceased cronies, were in league with the Absolute. Well, technically someone called The Stone Lord, but that distinction didn’t matter much to him. From what Astarion had gathered from the heated argument he had overheard between the dragonborn and a Duergar Guild member, it was pretty much the same thing.

If the Stone Lord served the Absolute, and even the Guild was pushing back against them, then it made it all too easy for Tav to pick a side.

The enemy of my enemy is my friend, or however the saying went.

Besides, it was always a good idea to have friends in the Guild. Those bastards had their finger on every pulse point in the city — if Tav needed information, the Guild would likely have it and then some. For a fee, of course.

Seagulls cawed over Astarion’s head as they swooped past, returning to the beach one by one now that the fighting was over. The susurration of waves and the setting sun calmed the adrenaline that coursed through his veins. He had never spent much time at the beach in Baldur’s Gate; the icy sand and blackened waters under the cover of night had never appealed to him. But beneath the sunlight? It was actually quite lovely.

That was, of course, if one could ignore at least a dozen bodies strewn about.

Using the dragonborn’s shirt as a rag, Astarion wiped the blood from his dagger before he returned it to its sheath. He still had one more of his daggers to find somewhere between the bodies and the sand. Normally the sussur dagger stood out when he threw it, but apparently the beach provided perfect camouflage. While it wasn’t the end of the world if he had truly lost it, it would be disappointing.

Plus, Tav would never let him hear the end of it. That sussur bark had been a pain to harvest and that dagger had served Astarion quite well throughout their journey. He had actually become quite attached to it.

“Gotta say, I’m glad you guys showed up when you did,” the Duergar woman they had fought alongside said, a smile in her voice as she addressed Jaheira and Tav. “Stone Lord pricks might’ve taken out my crew if it wasn’t for you. I think the gnome pissed himself when Big Boy over there turned into a damn saber-tooth.”

From the corner of his eye, Astarion saw the Duergar nod toward where Halsin lounged wildshape. Blood of their foes soaked the fur around his muzzle still as he panted beneath the heat of the sun. It wasn’t uncommon for Halsin to linger in wildshape for a bit after a fight. There had been too many instances where they had thought the fighting was over only to be ambushed by someone hiding in the shadows a moment later. Though it only took Halsin a moment to don on the fur of a beast like Astarion would a cloak, it took significantly more energy.

Lately, Astarion preferred it when Halsin was in wildshape. For one, he couldn’t talk. Secondly, ‘Halsin, the Beast’ was far less distracting than ‘Halsin, the Man.’

If he was being completely honest with himself, Astarion wasn’t quite sure what to make of Halsin. He seemed like a good man. A genuinely good man, which was a rarity in Astarion’s experience. Part of him didn’t want to trust Halsin for that reason alone: no one was as kind and generous as he was without some ulterior motive.

Yet after weeks of traveling together, Astarion couldn’t for the life of him figure out what that ulterior motive could be. Halsin didn’t have to continue traveling with them — he didn’t have a tadpole and he had aided them more than most anyone else on their travels. If he decided that he had done his part, no one would hold it against him. There was so much work to be done to undo the effects of the Shadow Curse, but Halsin had put that aside in favor of continuing to aid them.

“Astarion,” Jaheira called from across the beach, pulling him from his thoughts. “We think that ship came from Moonrise. We’re going to take a look around for more information and try to figure out what they were up to. You’re welcome to join us if you’re done searching for seashells.”

Astarion nudged the corpse of a halfling man with his booted foot, spotting a hint of something silver beneath him. Unfortunately, it had only been part of the man’s belt.

Damn, where the hells had the sussur dagger gone? Surely his aim hadn’t been that terrible.

“You go ahead,” he replied distractedly. “I’ll catch up once I’ve found wherever my dagger lodged itself.”

“Check that alcove where some of them were hiding,” Tav suggested and nodded toward the cliff face that loomed over the small stretch of sand. “I think I saw something ricochet in that direction.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Astarion said, as if Tav should have known what he was looking for even though he had never verbalized it. “Do you enjoy watching me walking around looking like an idiot?”

Instead of taking the opportunity to sass him back, Tav simply shrugged and gave him a shit-eating grin before taking off after Jaheira.

Halsin, on the other hand, didn’t budge from his sunny spot in the sand except to watch their companions follow the Duergar toward the creepy ship. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in whatever the boat had to offer, which struck Astarion as odd. Normally, Halsin was the type to jump on any opportunity to investigate everything and anything involving the cult of the Absolute.

Once their companions disappeared from view, Halsin tilted his head toward him, his expression unreadable behind his wildshape. Astarion stared back with a furrow to his brow. What the hells was Halsin doing? Was he just going to—

Oh.

Halsin was babysitting him.

Astarion rolled his eyes at the realization and tried to ignore the fluttering sensation in his stomach. Deep down, he appreciated the gesture. Very, very deep down. Though Astarion wasn’t sure if Halsin’s watchful eye came from a place of genuine care or from the fact Astarion had a tendency to get himself into trouble.

Trouble that, without anyone’s help — especially not Halsin’s — he was perfectly capable of getting himself out of, thank you very much.

But as much as he hated to admit it, Halsin was directly responsible for saving his ass more than once.

Maybe twice.

Actually, it was closer to a dozen times, but Astarion didn’t want to think about that. He just happened to have quite a bit of bad luck when Halsin was around. That was all.

Astarion groaned as he kicked away some sand covering something shiny, hoping to spot his dagger buried beneath.

Seashell. Dammit.

“You don’t have to babysit me, you know,” he called across the beach.

Halsin‘s ears twitched toward the sound of his voice, then he tilted his head and raised one furry eyebrow as if to say ‘Really?’

Astarion threw up his hands. Fine. If the druid wanted to watch him, he could go ahead and watch the breathtaking performance of The Idiot Who Lost His Irreplaceable Dagger.

It was sure to be thrilling.

The bastard could help, but no. It seemed like he was perfectly content to stay exactly where he was.

Making his way to the alcove Tav had mentioned, Astarion checked the bodies of a tiefling man and a gnomish woman as he went with no sign of the sussur dagger. It wasn’t until he got close to the mouth of the alcove that he spotted a glint of blue on the ground where the sand met sandstone.

“There you are,” Astarion muttered as he retrieved his dagger. It was a little scratched up, but it seemed otherwise undamaged.

Relieved, he tucked the dagger into his belt where it was easiest to grab if he needed it. Not that he thought he would need it again today, but one could never know.

Astarion glanced at a narrow opening toward the back of the alcove. Though he couldn’t see far into it, he noticed a few dots of lantern light lining the walls and casting a dim glow in a yawning cavern, stuffed with crates and boxes and makeshift furniture. So that explained why those thugs were hanging out of the beach — they had a whole hideout back there.

Amidst all of the fighting, he vaguely recalled the supposed leader of the group shouting for additional backup, only to be told by one of the thugs that all of their crew was already on the beach.

Which meant that, if they had any valuables tucked away in that hideout, they were completely unguarded. Maybe some gold, jewelry, and — judging by the creepy boat — even secrets directly from Moonrise Towers. All of it prime for the taking.

Or they could just have drugs and a couple of cheap bottles of wine. It really could go either way with those sorts.

In any case, they always needed more supplies. And gold. Especially now they were practically in the city and they had significantly more, and better, shopping options than when they were on the road.

Gods, what he wouldn’t give for some new clothes and a nicer pair of boots. The kind of garments that Cazador would let him wear, but never let him own. It had been decades since he had gotten new clothes he could call his own, but Astarion had done plenty of window shopping. He knew exactly where he was going to go with some gold to spend.

Perhaps Halsin could get something too. Something that wouldn’t make him stand out so much in the city. Between his stature, his druidic attire, and that sometimes blank and mildly confused look on his face, the man was a prime target for the numerous criminals crawling around the city. Halsin could certainly handle himself, but Astarion would much rather Halsin avoided advertising his newcomer status.

For everyone’s convenience, of course. Not because Astarion worried for him or something ridiculous like that.

Hells, maybe if he was lucky, he might find some clothes in the hideout. He didn’t have high expectations as to the quality of those clothes, but perhaps there could be a hidden gem or two. They had certainly found plenty of treasures in unlikely places on their travels.

Astarion ducked into the hideout, his eyes quickly adjusting to the much dimmer lighting of the cave. Well, once he was inside, he realized it was more of a tunnel than a cave — it let out into the ocean not fifty meters away. A few empty rowboats, tied to a shoddy, rotting dock, rocked in the gentle current far beyond where the sunlight could reach.

Beside the rowboats and a couple of crabs skittering along the shoreline, the place was as abandoned as Astarion expected. A half eaten sandwich laid atop of a barrel alongside an empty tin mug, lantern light still illuminating a newspaper some anonymous thug must have been reading before being called into their last battle.

Their own fault, really. If they valued their hides, the rowboats were right there. They could have turned the other way instead of throwing away their pitiful lives in the name of the Boulder Boss or whatever he was called. The Stone Lord. Something to do with rocks.

Oh well, it wasn’t his problem.

His boots were nearly silent against the sand covered floor as he ventured deeper into the hideout, his head on a swivel and his hand on his dagger just in case anyone had been left behind. Besides the sound of water and the echoes of the cave, Astarion couldn’t hear anything that would point to any signs of life (if one did not count the crabs). No voices, no breathing, no movement besides his own.

Tucked in a narrow offshoot, well out of sight of either of the entrances Astarion could see, he found exactly what he was hoping for: gold.

And plenty of it.

Crates and crates overflowing with gold, gems, weapons, and all sorts of shiny things. Also some barrels full of illithid tadpoles and metal boxes of what looked like infernal metal. Tav had made the right call by siding with the Guild, Astarion noted dully. Whoever these people were were obviously not the type to help their cause.

But Astarion was certainly the type to help himself.

Astarion completely intended to inform Tav of the hidden trove, but only after he snuck a few coins and pawnable goods for himself before it went into the general camp supplies. Not that Astarion typically minded the system Tav had worked out to make sure everyone got their fair share of the spoils, he just wanted a little extra that was just for him for something frivolous.

Call it a finders fee.

His eyes landed on a small wooden chest, already opened, a pile of gold coins and shiny gemstones beckoning him. The mound of treasure divoted in the center as if someone had been sifting through the riches. Astarion scooped up a handful of the coins and let them fall through his fingers. The weight and the texture of the metal seemed authentic, and—

“It’s mine!”

Astarion’s feet lifted off the ground and his back slammed against the cave wall, a sharp pain running down his side. A gaunt, jaundiced man with browned teeth and bloodshot eyes glared at him as his boney fingers dug into Astarion’s neck with enough force to strangle a man who actually needed to breathe.

A yelp of pain and some choice words for the gentlemen gathered in his throat came out as gurgling groan, unable to escape the man’s ironlike grip. Astarion blindly reached for his dagger, panic and surprise and pain making his normally deft hands clumsy.

“Not gonna share,” the man snarled, his voice like a creaking graveyard gate and his breath like a crypt. “Not gonna—”

Astarion plunged the dagger into the man’s back without a shred of mercy. Bastard forfeited his life the moment he attacked.

The man jerked away with a snarl of pain, yanking the dagger out of Astarion’s grip with the movement, leaving it lodged in his flesh. Those boney hands tightened their grip around his throat, and he pulled Astarion away from the wall just long enough to slam him against it again.

Blackness colored his vision when the back of his head collided with the stone. A cold sweat broke across his skin as he struggled, his feet slipping on the sand-covered ground and his hands unable to find anything else to use as a weapon.

Fuck. It was only a matter of time before the bastard realized that strangling a vampire wouldn’t kill one and he resorted to something else.

Astarion dug his nails into the man’s wrists until blood wetted his fingertips, desperately prying and pulling with no avail. The man was unnaturally strong. Stronger than any man who looked so sickly had any right to be.

Frantic, Astarion’s eyes darted around looking for something he could use.

Anything he could use.

Come on, think! An all too familiar feeling of helplessness flooded into his mind, telling him to simply stop fighting. Stop fighting because he would only make things worse for himself, and the severity of Cazador’s punishment would increase tenfold.

Astarion shoved the thought from his racing mind. This wasn’t Cazador, and he wasn’t helpless. But fuck, he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t have—

A screeching roar cut the air like a knife through parchment. The hands around his throat ripped away in a flash of brown and white fur, Astarion’s body following like a ragdoll from the sheer force of the moment. The sharp pain in his side screamed as he landed among the pile of treasure and he instinctively took a gulp of air he didn’t need.

Disoriented and trying to ignore the pain, he scrambled backwards to locate his opponent.

Then he heard the distinct crunch of bone, and Astarion’s head whipped toward the sound just in time to see the man’s body go limp in the jaws of a saber toothed cat.

Of course it was Halsin.

Astarion slumped back against the gold and closed his eyes. Part of him was relieved. Thankful for the timely rescue.

Another part of him was very, very, annoyed.

“Astarion,” Halsin said, his voice a mixture of concern and relief, as he practically skidded to a stop beside him, tufts of fur trailing behind him from dismissing his wildshape. Golden healing magic gathered around Halsin’s fingertips as his eyes darted over Astarion’s form — from his torso, to his hip, to his neck, to his face, then back to his hip.

Halsin lowered his hands to the spot on Astarion’s hip with a grimace that no one ever wanted to see from a healer, “Don’t look.”

Astarion looked.

Nausea churned in his stomach at a strip of white between the bloodied, torn, flesh of his hip. Good gods. Astarion vaguely remembered the sharp pain in his side before the man had tried to choke him out, but he wasn’t expecting that.

“I’m going to be sick,” he croaked, the damage to his throat making it difficult to talk.

“I told you not to look,” Halsin replied, his hands steady over Astarion’s hip as his magic soaked into him, soothing as a warm bath. “If it’s any reassurance, it looks nastier than it actually is.”

Astarion wasn’t sure if that was true, or if Halsin was attempting to assuage his discomfort. The thought made him scoff. “I’ve dealt with worse.”

Cazador had done far, far more damage to him than anything on their adventures with Tav. Getting attacked by a strange man in a cave was barely worth a footnote in the pages upon pages of horrors Astarion had endured over the centuries.

But with Cazador, Astarion never had a stupidly kind druid ready to patch him up.

“I’m sure you have,” Halsin replied, the sound of sympathy still so unfamiliar that it felt almost mocking. Astarion knew that wasn’t the case, yet he clenched his teeth. “Now stop talking while I take care of your neck.”

Begrudgingly, Astarion kept his mouth shut as Halsin’s hands hover over his bruised throat. Despite how his adrenaline-fueled mind screamed at him not to let anyone near his neck, he managed to himself calm.

Halsin wasn’t going to hurt him.

Somehow, deep in his gut, Astarion knew that to be true.

“Never thought I would say this,” Halsin commented as his rough fingertips brushed over Astarion’s neck with a featherlight touch, the healing magic seeping through Astarion’s skin and soothing his pain. “But you’re extremely lucky you’re a vampire. Had this happened to anyone else…. Well, I would have had to prepare something more complex than a simple healing spell.”

Though a sarcastic reply danced on the tip of his tongue, Astarion only hummed in response since he wasn’t supposed to talk. He probably wasn’t supposed to hum either, considering how the small vibration aggravated his throat.

Oh well. Like he had said before: Cazador had inflicted worse on him. Comparatively speaking, he might as well have just stubbed his toe.

Halsin’s hands carefully moved to the sides of Astarion’s neck, just below his jawbone, his hazel eyes warm but focused as he worked. Astarion swallowed and averted his gaze.

It wasn’t until that moment that he realized how intimate their position was — Astarion on his back with Halsin kneeling over him. Though Halsin was politely seated to his side, Astarion couldn’t help but imagine if the situation was slightly different. He quickly pushed the thought aside. Now was not the time to imagine being straddled by a handsome, caring, druid.

Halsin’s gentle touch tickled the nape of his neck. “Lift your head.”

Trying to ignore the sudden wave of goosebumps across his skin, Astarion did as he was told. Though he could already guess at the answer by the way his throat felt, he asked, “Does this mean I can talk now?”

“You may,” Halsin replied as his fingers slipped through Astarion’s hair, the healing magic now focused on the spot on the back of his head where he had been slammed against the wall. Then, Halsin’s throat bobbed and he turned his eyes towards the pile of treasure. “But I don’t encourage it.”

“Why not? My throat feels fine now, thanks to your magic druid nonsense or whatever spell you’re using.”

Halsin shook his head. “Because you can be quite distracting.”

Something in the way Halsin spoke stirred up over-eager butterflies in Astarion’s stomach. Though it was entirely possible that Halsin was being very literal and simply didn’t want to be distracted while he worked, Astarion couldn’t help but feel like there was another meaning behind his words.

What if Halsin was distracted by Astarion the same way Astarion was distracted by him? What if….

“In a good way or a bad way?” Astarion asked before he could get ahead of himself.

“Both,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his voice and undeniable warmth and affection in his gaze. “But if it’s any consolation, you’re mostly the good kind of distracting.”

Astarion’s stomach did a moronic little flip, and he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “So would something like this be the good kind of distracting or the bad kind of distracting?” he asked as he lifted his hand to the back of Halsin’s head, the warmth making him want to bury his fingers in his long hair.

“The bad kind,” Halsin said as his hand moved to a tender spot on the back of his skull that he didn’t even realize he had. “At least, it is for the next ten seconds. But after I’m done healing…”

The glowing golden magic that spiraled from Halsin’s thick arms to his skillful fingers dissipated, leaving them in the dim light from a single lantern hanging from the wall. His eyes locked onto Astarion’s, his expression softening as they watched one another, both of them waiting for someone to see what the other would do next. Neither one of them wanting to make the first move.

Perhaps, Astarion thought, it would be for the best if they both just decided to leave things as they were. Astarion would thank Halsin, Halsin would tell him to be more careful, then they’d go and tell Tav and Jaheira about the cave and all of the loot that was inside.

The moment would be dead and buried, and maybe that was how it should be. After all, what did someone like Astarion have to offer a man like Halsin?

Nothing. That was what.

But when Halsin’s eyes dropped to Astarion’s lips, the hesitation and doubt tying back his desires — what he wanted — unraveled. Damn, maybe it was impulsive, or maybe he was reading too much into the situation. After all, he did just get knocked around pretty hard, and yet…

What the hells.

Astarion’s fingers traced Haslin’s pointed ear as he slid his hand through silky brown hair. “May I distract you now?” he asked, lifting his face close enough to Halsin's that he could feel his breath against his lips.

Halsin chuckled warmly. “I hope you will,” he said as he leaned in, his lips brushing against Astarion’s with a soft, light kiss. The kind of kiss that was so foreign to him that it made it feel like his chest was about to bust with…. Oh, Astarion didn’t know. Something warm and fuzzy that he never thought he would feel again.

“But,” Halsin said as he drew back, his gaze dark with desire but unmistakably happy, “we should get back to the beach before the others start wondering where we went.”

”They can wait a few minutes.” Before Halsin could put any distance between them, Astarion captured the other man’s mouth with his. His hands tangled in Halsin’s hair as he deepened the kiss, nipping gently at his lower lip as he clung to him like he was afraid he was going to change his mind.

The tip of Halsin’s tongue brushed against his, sending a shiver down his spine. Damn it — Astarion didn’t even know if this meant anything to Halsin but he wanted it to. He wanted to be more than just a bit of fun for him. Though he knew Halsin didn’t hold himself back when it came to his most carnal desires, Astarion also believed Halsin wasn’t the type to be careless with another’s heart.

Halsin groaned and pulled Astarion closer, inhaling deeply like he was breathing in his scent, and—

“Footprints lead this way.” Jaheira’s voice cut through the growing haze of lust like a light in the dark.

“They couldn’t stay put for ten minutes?” Tav said, sounding more annoyed than concerned. “Astarion, I expect to wander off, but Halsin?”

“I’ll bet you a gold piece that Astarion probably did something stupid again,” Jaheira replied.

“Yeah, I’m not taking that bet.”

Halsin’s lips drew into a thin line as if he was trying to hold back a laugh. “If they ask,” he said, offering Astarion a hand as he got to his feet, “we had to go after a straggler.”

Astarion scoffed as he accepted Halsin’s hand, gold coins clinking beneath him as he stood. “Isn’t that what happened? I mean, we did take care of that brown-toothed menace over there.” He cocked his thumb towards the corpse that he had honestly forgotten about until that moment.

“Exactly,” Halsin replied. “I’m just going to leave out the part where you wandered in here by yourself without telling anyone.”

The lingering tingle on his lips from Halsin’s kiss did not stop Astarion from rolling his eyes. “Oh, you are so kind.”

“I’m detecting some sarcasm,” Halsin said with a chuckle. “Come on. Let’s get back to the others. Perhaps I can distract you later.”

Judging by the look in Halsin’s eyes and the fluttering feeling in his own stomach, Astarion had no doubts about that.

Only a few steps from the entrance to the cave, Astarion gave a frustrated groan. He turned sharply on his heel and began to trudge back in.

“Where are you going?” Halsin asked.

Astarion didn’t even want to look at Halsin as he answered, “I forgot my damn dagger.”

---

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Comments are always appreciated!

[cinnaamon]

ETHAN LANDRY HEADCANONS

pairing: ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: really fluffy, in a world where gf doesn't exist, implied fem!reader like once (ethan having the nickname "mamas" for reader)

synopsis: what i think dating ethan landry is like !

— definitely shy before asking you out and when you guys first start dating

— he asks chad for help on how to ask you out because he's completely clueless

— chad definitely made fun of him

— "dude, stop being so paranoid and just ask her out!" "what?! she's definitely going to say no!" "with that mindset, yeah."

— when he finally does get the courage to ask you out, he's all nervous

— "would you-uhm..maybe want to..go out with me sometime? i just think you're really funny and beautiful..!"

— ethan's flabbergasted that you said yeah..

— idk i feel like for the first date he would do something casual

— (i feel like all dates with him would be casual tho..)

— dates can include, breakfast/lunch/dinner, sleepovers, study dates, movie nights, or going out someplace !

— when you guys go out to eat, he doesn't bring you to fancy places

— but not cheap places either

— he always insists on paying but you argue back

— "let me pay for it!" "ethan, you always pay! let me!" "no!"

— you end up winning the argument and you both split the bill

— for sleepovers, i feel like it would evolve from another date, you know?

— like it could start out as a dinner date, but you both lost track of time and it's late so ethan offers for you to stay over

— if you sleep over at his house, he would give you clothes to borrow!

— if you're at your house, the clothes he gave you to "borrow" would be there so you'd just give him that to use

— study dates would definitely be his idea

— "hey, we haven't had a date in awhile!" "you're right, let's come over to my place and have a study date!" "babes.."

— ethan enjoys them while you're suffering

— you'd try to distract him with kisses and he would be so close to giving in

— eventually he does lol

— you guys totally have movie nights often

— i would say this is what usually causes sleepovers

— i firmly believe that ethan loves romcoms..is it just me?

— he's a sucker for romantic stuff, but he also loves to get a good laugh in here and there

— ok but i have a feeling that his fav romcom would be murder mystery but like that's my opinion..

— other than romcoms, other movies he's obsessed with watching includes the corpse bride, alvin and the chipmunks, despicable me, and any spiderman movie

— when you guys feel bored, you guys would just go hang out as a date

— he would 100% bring you to arcadesss

— always tries to challenge you in the basketball or air hockey games

— if he wins and gets all the tickets, he'd feel so bad and proud of himself

— he would feel so bad to the point he would get you something from the ticket prize counter:D

— "what do you want?" "ooh, get me a tattoo or sticker!" "okay!"

— he loves cuddles

— he's not very fond of showing affection in public (unless somebody gets touchy with you..), but in private?

— he's all over you

— i feel like ethan prefers being the little spoon, but he can be the big spoon if you want

— calls you nicknames like babe, pretty, baby, gorgeous, and sometimes mamas (as a joke obvi)

— that one tiktok audio that's like "mamá y papá" is something anika, chad, or tara would do with y'all

— doesn't really get jealous, but if they get a little TOO close, best believe he's grabbing you by your waist and kissing you

— "babe, who's this?" "oh, just some guy from my history class! we have a project together and we were discussing it!" "hm.."

— but yeah, he's also really clingy

— you could be cuddling after school, and when you say you have to go someplace, he would not let you go

— "i promised my friends that i would go shopping with them for prom today!" "cancel on them." "ethan!"

© cinnaamon, do NOT repost on any platform without my permission. you will be blocked and exposed.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: In Which Chilchuck Begrudgingly Has Feelings for his Coworkers, and Kabru Has...Something. He Sure Has Something Going On Over There.

Before we continue, I feel I should clarify 2 things:

I've been trying, ish, to avoid spoilers for this comic, but I've watched through the Golden Country episode and more importantly I'm so bad at not reading spoiler-y but interesting- and insightful-looking analysis. So, much of this commentary isn't wholly original and any particularly genius theories of future events are likely made with actual foreknowledge.

When I said on the first post that I was starting the comic because "I need to know what happens", what I specifically meant was "I need to know how the Laios-Kabru dynamic ends up, and the general geopolitical situation, so I can accurately daydream what sort of tariffs they'll set in the kingdom of which Laios is definitely not going to be the one managing the political, economic, or social minutia." Tariffs are going to be important, okay. They're a key way a nation-state interacts with other nation-states, especially one with rare materials to trade, powerful neighbors who want them, and the natural barrier of an ocean. Truly, every fantasy series ever should be required to have an epilogue or many an additional book/season/etc of a The West Wing-style depiction of day-to-day governance of whatever resulted from the story's climactic finale.

Okay, back to the liveblog.

.

Inch resting. The manga characters, having met the Mad Mage, keep using she/her pronouns for them, where in the anime they used he/him. I assume one of these is just, like, wrong - some translation choice was made before truth was revealed later in the course of publication?

But it makes SENSE that the characters wouldn't necessarily know, at this point! The Mage's appearance is pretty gender-neutral, especially as an elf, an notably gender-ambiguous race. So the characters in the manga picked one guess and stuck with it, and the characters is the very slightly alternate timeline of the anime picked another and stuck with that!

Now: having used they/them throughout this musing and previously he/him because a) the show and b) that's what I saw in fandom, I think I'll switch to referring to the Mage with she/her pronouns now. Because A) that's how the thing I'm reading apparently will be doing it, and B) they still call her "Lord of the Dungeon", which is obviously the greatest gender option of all.

...however, the manga does keep saying "lunatic magician" rather than "Mad Mage" (caps mine), which is a TOTAL failing in drama. Always alliterate, preferably archaically.

.

Orc woman: Ugh, this halffoot sucks. I'll tolerate his company only as a favor to the vegetable guy.

Orc woman after listening to Chilchuck complain about his coworkers for an hour: Nvm, this halffoot is a worthy and loyal friend of the vegetable seller, and I guess those other guys too. He's just emotionally constipated about it.

.

Laios just has these soft little fond smiles sometimes and I? want to hug him?

.

MY MAN IS BACK!! Kabru wink count: 1 this chapter, 4 total [updated as I read]

.

Corpse Retriever: If you don't report us for trying to get you guys killed so we could collect a retrieval fee, we'll let you kill those two of our guys who are already unconscious and collect that fee yourselves. We'll just take 30% of it, for not telling on you.

Kabru, internally: Hm. Well, I'm not king of this dungeon yet, but nonetheless I feel comfortable passing and executing a just judgement upon you for your many known, presumed and planned crimes. Emphasis on 'executing.'

Kabru aloud: I accept!

Kabru: [starts killing them with a classic faint, wide-eyed smile]

What a guy. He's even holding that knife so well. Look, next he's analyzing social trends and acting ruthlessly to adjust them toward the direction of the greater good!

What a guy. Truly this is a "so my type that it's embarrassing" situation.

.

I can't efficiently crop panels to show all this, but favorite parallels in these chapters full of parallels:

Kabru's breakdown of the Touden party is like Laios eagerly explaining and analyzing the behavior and anatomy of monsters (including, though we don't know it yet, calculations for killing them - though we DO see him saying that humans are easy to kill because he knows all the physical weak points!)

The references throughout these two chapters, by Kabru and his party, to the interconnected socioeconomic dynamics of the island and dungeon - the corrupted system fails to check corpse retrievers, the Island Lord as an annoying but necessary bulwark against the Elves, the dungeon growing hungrier as fewer adventurers go down because there's less money and more risk - are so so so like Senshi and Laiois discussing the dungeon biome's ecosystem and food pyramid.

The whole vibe of the party re: their respective weirdo tallman leaders. We watched Team Laios develop this, recently crowned with Chilchuck's near-tearful argument to turn back for a rest, which means we can recognize it when we're dropped into it with Team Kabru: that "this guy is SUCH a goddamn weirdo, but I already followed him into some level of hell, so I'm obviously not turning back now." Kabru's party does think he's weird - "You remember so much about other people that it's creepy." "Why are you enjoying this?" But they're also pitching in on the speculation like Team Touden all hel cook monsters. Compare:

Also!! Something something predisposed beliefs and presumptions of others... This party is so eager to assume the worst of our party, even though our party objectively saved them from perma-death twice, once from ghosts and once from being eaten by fishmen. Chichuck is greedy and bossy, Senshi smells so...notably...that he's judged to be sketchy af... Kabru is trying his best with what info he has, he knows it's not enough to pass a judgement and he wants more, but it's very...uncomfortable? To see this sort of discussion of people we know are great, when we're so used to watching monsters be killed with exquisite understanding and respect.

...I'll chew on that angle of theme more later. Man, you know how, say, what makes the musical Hamilton so good is at its heart it's just like 5-10 leitmotifs that interweave to create every single song? Dungeon Meshi is like that. Hmm a Dungeon Meshical...

.

"Yeah, yeah, we've all heard your weekly lecture about how someone responsible and sociopolitically conscious needs to take the dungeon and the throne or everyone in this region is doomed. None of us can wait to see you flip off the Island Lord to his face. Eat your rations, buddy."

.

JUST THE CUTEST, INNOCENTEST, POLITEST, HELPFULEST (WITH NO ULTERIOR MOTIVATIONS WHATSOEVER) YOUNG MAN!! LOOK AT HIS BIG BLUE EYES AND EAGER LITTLE SMILE!

[3 seconds earlier:

I'm obsessed. In the spirit of this comic: I want to eat him with a spoon. I want to take small divots out of him and lick each one carefully off the spoon, luxuriously exploring and enjoying the complex texture and flavor. Like he's a really good pudding. And then I want to see if, if he and Laios kiss, do they both explode in antimatter.

[abidolly]

I saw this painting by Boris Nemensky in the gallery, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It was heartbreaking and beautiful, so I put this little story I had around it into words—and of course, made it about Sebastian and Ominis. Consider this drabble an AU from another life. But I gave it a semi- happy ending. What they desreved.

*

There was silence all around, only the distant barks of stray dogs echoing through the still air. They were always the first ones, either brave or hungry enough to dare out of the trenches when the whistling of bullets stopped.

It had stopped long ago. Sebastian was alone in his dirt hole—not the only body there, but the only one alive. He took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of the man whom, just a few hours ago, he'd warmed with his own body heat so they could survive the night.

Now there was no more warmth to be found from anyone around.

It was quiet for too long. Maybe it was all over. Maybe he had gotten lucky again.

He heard a cough from another foxhole not too far from where he was lying.

So he wasn’t alone.

Was it an ally or an enemy, though? 

Sebastian remained as quiet as possible. If anyone saw him, he could pass for just another corpse. Playing dead to stay alive.

Time dragged on. Hours, maybe a day. No help came. But no enemy either. He wasn't hungry, but he craved lighting a cigarette more than anything. He didn't, though.

Before morning came, a rain began to fall. Sebastian didn't have to move; he just opened his mouth to catch some drops. He swore the water hissed in his dry throat as he swallowed.

He must have fallen asleep. Dogs were sniffing around. He had to move. He threw a rock in their direction. They snarled but left. His body wasn't worth the fight for them.

As dawn approached, the sky tinged with hues of grey and pale pink, Sebastian heard anoher faint cough from the nearby trench. Desperation gnawed at him. He summoned his courage and  whispered into the silence.

“Who's there?”

A moment of hesitation, then a reply came—hoarse and weary. “Ominis. Ominis Gaunt.”

Sebastian drew a sharp breath. An enemy name. “Are you hurt?” 

“Depends on your perspective,” Ominis answered with a dry laugh. “I'm alive, for now.”

“Ally or enemy?” Sebastian pressed.

“Does it matter anymore? We're the only ones left, it seems.”

Sebastian pondered this. Ominis sounded young. In another life, they might have been friends, but in this one? Was Ominis the one who killed the men around him? Did Sebastian kill Ominis’ friends? Did it really matter anymore? Alone, they were meat for dogs.

After a long pause, he spoke. “I'm Sebastian Sallow,”

“I have some gin here,” said Ominis. “Not good stuff, but it keeps you warm.”

“I've got some cigarettes.”

Silence stretched between them screaming with unspoken fears.

“Truce?” Ominis dared.

“Truce,” Sebastian agreed.

Slowly, cautiously, Sebastian emerged from his trench, raising his hands slightly to show he meant no harm. Across the scarred earth, Ominis did the same. They approached each other, the distance closing step by step.

Up close, Sebastian saw that Ominis was as exhausted and battered as he felt—mud-caked uniforms, unshaven faces, eyes empty as if they were already dead.

Sebastian offered a cigarette.

Ominis accepted it with a faint smile. "Much appreciated." He pulled out a small flask and handed it to Sebastian. 

Sebastian took a swig and grimaced at the harsh burn. “Terrible,” he muttered.

Ominis sniffled. “Told you.”

They sat on the ground, backs against the remnants of a shattered wall. The silence between them was somehow comforting. Smoke curled into the damp morning air as they both took long drags.