#And trust me I may not remember specifics but I remember how much every nice message meant to me because I was Going Through It

[walpu]

I've got those requests almost at the same time jsrfwwxewe also I fucked up big time and accidentally deleted them but thanks god I've made the screenshots

I've been looking forward to writing something nsfw for him lmao

nsfw headcanons w/Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, nsfw, subby!Aven. Somehow turned into a character study. Somewhat angsty but with a turn for hurt/comfort. No beta.

Okay, first of all, he's no virgin. But he's NOT a manwhore either. Like for some reason when it comes to the cunning characters it's always either he's a dickrider-pussydestroyer-900 or he's actually a fragile innocent virgin baby. Not the case with Aventurine, not on my watch at least.

I mean it's pretty much canon that the only moment he feels truly alive is when he's gambling so he won't seek sex for the purpose of filling up the hole in his heart. And I don't see him as a lustful person in general.

He has one-night stands from time to time though. Not particularly often but once in a while he feels a certain level of frustration and stress budling up in him so in order to distress without losing his cool he seeks sexual relief. For him it's a safe way to relax a bit without actually taking off the mask of a frivolous and confident man.

Also. He's very touch starved. Not even in a lustful way, he just wants to feel someone's touch. Someone on twitter pointed out that he's practically hugging himself on his e6 and I haven't been the same ever since.

And now look at his body language in almost every cutscene. He has his arms crossed and is generally pretty reversed. I think he doesn't trust people around enough to be in his personal space but when it's a part of the sexual act, it's just natural. He doesn't have to feel exposed. So yeah. This is another reason why he seeks sex.

Now do you remember what Sparkle said to him? About stripping himself naked for Sunday and all that? Yeah I feel like he gets comments like that a lot due to people's prejudice against Avgins. People are usually not this straightforward butttt the idea behind their comments is the same.

He may act unaffected as long as he wants to but I do think it messed him up quite a bit.

Due to his fucked up views on his own value and his sexuality he doesn't have a healthy set of boundaries with his partners, allowing them to be as mean and rough as they want. And I don't mean just kinky stuff, I mean genuinely uncaring partners who really don't give a shit about Aven's comfort. I think subconsciously he seeks people like this. In his eyes, it's better this way, otherwise he may crumble from a gently and caring touch.

So yeah. His sexual encounters usually leave him sore and exhausted. The initial feeling of relief washes away in the morning, leaving him more empty than before.

Okay now to the happier part because we are 466 words in and I still didn't say anything good or sexy.

If the two of you started your relationship as a fling then initially he would be surprised because of how observant and attentive you are.

"My, my, how caring you are. But don't worry about me, you're free to use me as you wish" he says in the same flirty tone as usual. And you just. Stare.

He acts like he's bored while you literally pry the information out of him and, well, he doesn't give you anything specific anyway so you have to ask questions during the whole prosses to make sure he's doing fine. Orrr you just set for something very vanilla just in case.

In reality he's a bit confused. Has mixed feeling about this. Being treated with such care makes it harder for him to hide behind his mask but it feels so nice.

And when he realizes that he has actual feelings for you he just. Stops sleeping with you lmao. If you have questions about this he'll find 2134144 excuses but in reality he just tries to figure out his own feelings.

If you started off as friends then he would not try to sleep with you until you start dating. At first he just doesn't want to mix up this dynamics. And when he catches feelings, he just tries to make sense of it. Plus since sex is not something entirely positive for him, he's just kind of... unsure how it may affect your relationship even if it's obvious that the two of you want each other.

Okay now the real talk. When the two of you are officially lovers be prepared to face his messed up views on his own sexuality. Will probably need a lot of reassurance, attention and aftercare to realize the importance of his own safety and comfort. Learns to value himself through you.

A very good lover, knows how to please you and wants to please you. His previous sex partners weren't important to him so he didn't go out of his way to make them feel good but with you it's a different story. Literally worships your body, pressing kisses everywhere. Especially likes your thighs. Kisses them, bites them, leaves marks all over them. Loooooves teasing them while keeping eye contact with you right before giving you oral.

I feel like he's a switch but leans towards being a sub. May dom if you want him to or, rarely, if he feels like it.

May look like a brat but is not actually a brat. Well, most of the time. He's a tease but still does pretty much everything you want without making you work for it. However, if he's in a playful mood, may get all cheeky with you. Says stuff like: "Oh, that's all? I know you can do better" or "My dearest, don't disappoint me, okay? You know I don't make deals that don't pay off" just to rile you up. He loves being tamed okay. He knows you won't hurt him so him being all cheeky and disobedient is actually a huge sign that he's comfortable with you and trusts you fully.

Worship his body and he'll melt. Like. He'll genuinely crumble.

Goes all worked up and needy and soft and completely submissive in your arms.

Loves loves loves edging you. And fucking hate being edged. And by "hates" I mean he will whine and sulk and beg you to let him cum already. Secretly loves it but won't admit. You know it anyway since he never tries to stop you, obeying your every command, like a good boy he is. If you tell him that you'll stop doing that if he actually wants you to he'll huff and admit that he's not actually against you being a meanie.

Loves marking your body and loves when you mark his. HOWEVER would prefer to leave/have hickeys on the parts of your bodies that are usually covered. Doesn't want to create any rumors and doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. However, if you're into this, he'll gladly cover your entire neck with hickeys.

Is actually very sensitive pretty much everywhere so it's quite easy to overstimulate him. Once again, he'll whine but would never be against it.

Has the pretties moans and is very loud as well.

Doesn't have a lot of stamina so if he tops and you're still not satisfied after he cums, he'll use toys to entertain you up until he is ready for another round. If he bottoms then please give him some time to rest. Andddd kiss all over his body so he would get worked up again as soon as possible.

Has a praise kink. And a bit of a degradation kink too actually. Don't just insult him, mix it up with a praise and boom he's ready to cum.

Loves aftercare. Both giving and receiving it. He feels extremely vulnerable after a sensual lovemaking session so please just hold him and tell him he did great.

#hsr #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #sub aventurine #reader insert #walp's writing

[uplatterme]

Cherry Wine

—sub!kaeya/dom!reader, transmasc!kaeya/gn!reader | implied fwb relationship, fwb to lovers, hurt/comfort | mentioned nipple play, fingering (kaeya!receiving), edging, semi-public handjob (kaeya!receiving), mention of kaeya’s tcock like once though anatomy is kept pretty vague and gender-neutral

—kinda based on cherry wine by grentperez, that song has been on replay for days.

It’s not unusual for the Knights of Favonius to have these sorts of events, gatherings were held to provide some sort of bonding amongst other knights. A teambuilding activity, if you will.

He holds a glass of dandelion wine and the aroma reminds him of his…The smell reminds him of Angel’s Share and the said owner of that bar who isn’t here, and what he wouldn’t give to be in his position.

He stands idly in a secluded space, not wanting to catch the attention of the others who seem to be having a much more enjoyable time than he is.

His eyes wander around, examining his colleagues and other guests socializing.

The Cavalry Captain spots you and then out of nowhere, his hand is moving on its own, forcing him to drink the rest of the alcohol to hide the creeping blush starting to show on his face.

He turns around and faces the wall which is probably more suspicious than him just standing there alone, now that he thinks about it. However, he’d rather be caught dead than have you say something about him staring at you.

See, conversing with you isn’t really a problem. After all, you two have been friends ever since and even perform some acts that the average friendship doesn’t usually account for. Suffice to say, the knight trusts you a lot.

However, Kaeya might have stepped over that line a week ago…which is why he’s ignoring every letter you’ve sent to him. 

My Kaeya, I apologize for not meeting up with you lately. I have been stumped with the new work that Jean has assigned me for the rest of the week. Here are some flowers that I’ve gathered while I’m out in Liyue. I hope they won’t wither by the time you get this letter. I miss you.

He internally screams once he remembers the contents of that letter. A lovely bouquet of qingxin, one which he immediately freezes to keep alive for as long as he possibly can. You were really too nice of a friend to him.

You’ve always referred to him as “My Kaeya” ever since the first letter you formally sent. So he assumes it’s a friendly term to refer to him, something that he shouldn’t read further into if he doesn’t want to get his feelings hurt.

Also, it may or may not be his fault that you were assigned that many workloads from Jean…

He already messed up last week.

He tried to forget about it, but it’s impossible to forget when your fingers were inside of him, his juices soaking the sheets while your tongue had its way with his chest, nibbling his nipples just the way he likes them as your saliva trails down from his scars to his stomach.

It wasn’t even that bad. Literally, there were worse times when you two got at it like two wolves in heat, yet somehow that was when his mind just decided to spew out those three specific words.

He sounded like he was enjoying himself on a honeymoon with his newlywed. What was he thinking… he could have moaned out literally anything else. Hell, he would have rather moaned out in Khaenri’ahn for fucks sake. 

Yet he didn't, he said something much idiotic.

He can’t even say it in his mind right now, he’s far too embarrassed.

Kaeya is uncertain whether you heard him or not. He didn’t see you respond strangely at all, so is it possible you were too focused? Or maybe you did, and he just didn’t notice because he climaxed right after that mishap of his…

He’s hoping it’s the former.

He fidgets with the glass in his hand, breathing to calm himself down before turning around again. 

“Hi.”

Kaeya’s heart jumps at the sight of you being so near to him. How long have you been there to begin with?

“Hello.” He replies as cooly as he can, averting his gaze away from you.

“I’m back.”

“I see that.” Archons, what is he saying?

“Are you—” 

You cut yourself off, pursing your lips and giving him a smile before continuing. He’s seconds away from just bolting out of here.

“Did you like the flowers?”

“I did.” He answers.

“Good.” 

And as if it couldn’t get any worse, the hired musicians changes the current music playing to a more…romantic one.

That’s fine. He’s good at these kinds of things.

Kaeya shoves any sign of embarrassment or nervousness away and looks straight at you directly. You must have drank a lot, the dilation in your eyes makes it easy to tell.

“Care for a dance?” You invited.

“My, are you sure you can keep up?” He bites back.

“Probably not, but if it prevents you from standing by yourself then I’ll dance with you as long as I can.”

The genuineness of your words always manages to stir him up.

Kaeya laughs. “I see you’ve had much to drink.”

“Sure, something like that.” He catches a grin from you despite the way you bow at him.

He shakes his head, offering his hand in front of you. There’s a slightly noticeable tremble his hand makes but you place your hand onto his, keeping him still.

“I’m afraid a simple waltz is all I can do, I’m no Eula.” You admit.

“It’s fine. I’ll lead.” Kaeya says, trying to act as confidently as he can. 

“Alright then, Captain.”

His arm wraps around your waist as you place your hand on his shoulder. His breathing staggers but he tries to focus on the music and his feet, swaying you along with him. He dances gracefully, of course. Not that it’s surprising as he grew up in the Ragnvindr household.

He knows people are watching, he doesn’t meet their faces or yours.

“Kaeya.” You speak.

He raises his head. It’s bad etiquette to not look at the one you’re dancing with, though he hopes he can be forgiven just this once.

“Can we talk after this?”

He loses track of the time and his body moves as if it’s on autopilot. He only realizes that the music has stopped and so does he, when the people around him are clapping.

Kaeya faces you again, unsure of what to do. 

All of the sudden, his body is being dragged away to a more quiet spot, Your hand gripping his wrist. The balcony provides room for the two of you, the rest of the party being hidden away by the fancy curtain.

“Are you cold?” You ask.

The breeze is a bit shivering but he’s used to the cold due to the cryo vision he holds. 

“I’m fine.” 

He hears you sigh, as if that answer he’s given you was somehow wrong. You grab a flask from the inside of his blazer, taking a swig before handing it to him.

Kaeya smells the alcohol and he worries. “More alcohol?”

“It’s my first drink tonight.”

He doubts that, although he finds that there’s no reason for you to lie.

So, why do you keep giving him those eyes?

Kaeya gives in, drinking the rest. Warmth grows on his face and he’s unsure whether it’s from the wine or the fact that your mouth was just on the flask.

“This is new.” He examines it with a closer look.

“Cherry Wine. Diluc gave it to me, apparently it’s from a merchant he met.”

Kaeya chuckles. “I see you’ve been conspiring with my brother.”

There’s jealousy obvious when he says that, but who was he to be jealous? The line of friendship becomes more and more obscured.

“Well, unlike someone. He actually finds time to reply to my letters.”

“You’re mad.” He points out.

“Here I thought you were too dense to even notice that.” 

You close the distance between you two, his hands holding on the railings of the balcony as your hand steadies his back, kissing him deeply and much longer than any of the kisses you’ve given him.

His heart thumps from his chest, wanting more of your lips when you separate from him.

“Say it again. Tell me I didn’t mishear.” You plead.

“I…What?” You did hear him.

“Do I have to fuck it out of your mouth again?”

“Sweetheart, we’re in public. Gods, how strong is that wine—hey, wait!”

Your hand slips down his pants, palming the growing erection from under. Kaeya bites the back of his hand, your hand stroking his hardened tcock while you observe his face with a stern look.

“C-Come on, I really didn’t say anything.” He says, halfway between a soft whine and a cry.

“Captain, I didn’t take you for a liar and a coward.”

He’s dripping wet, he knows by the way the cloth sticks to the skin on his thigh. The pace you’re going at is undeniably slow, and he knows you won’t let him finish if he doesn't say those words again.

“Please?” Kaeya begs. It’s been a week without your touch and frankly, it’s a week too long.

“It’s admirable how you’d rather have me pleasure you like this in front of everybody rather than just admitting it.”

The knight knows that he’s enjoying this far more than he should be and that it’s the only thing worth remembering about this gathering.

And then your hand grips him tighter and his legs quiver, cursing your name out in a breathy moan. 

“What’s wrong? Poor Captain wants to cum, does he?” You tease.

“You ass.”

His thighs rub together, wanting more of that extra friction. He admits that the action is quite humiliating, though if there’s a way to get himself off without confessing his feelings for you, then he’ll gladly do that.

“No. Spread them apart.” You ordered.

“H-Huh?”

“You heard me.”

He follows through, a squeaky whimper escaping his throat.

“So desperate, My Kaeya.”

His foot almost missteps when he feels the warmth from one of your fingers slowly penetrating him. Oh fuck, you cannot be serious.

He throws his head back as you continue to explore more of his insides. And just like before, you’re meticulously playing with him just so he breaks apart.

“I already said please.”

“And it’s appreciated, dear. But that’s not what I wanted to hear.”

“Fuck…hn, you—”

He stays a wreck like that for a few minutes, not being allowed the permission to cum from your fingers. Why do you want him to say it that bad anyways? Do you really want to reject him like this? Right now?

Kaeya’s body feels heavy.

He’s close, oh so close. 

His nails dig into the skin of his palms, he hears the inside get quieter and for a second, he assumes that it’s because of how he’s gasping and panting because of you.

He shakes those thoughts, knowing how loud the music and gossiping of the knights must be.

“Do you not like me?” You blurt out.

What an absurd question. Why do you think he’s letting you do this?

“Am I too pushy, Kaeya?” 

Your words are contrasting your actions far too differently. Your fingers start to get rougher, he’s painfully hard and he just wants to—He can’t—he physically cannot hold it any longer.

The mention of your name is indistinguishable from a slobbering baby, he holds your waist again although for a particularly different reason this time.

It’s so cheesy how he gets so lovesick whenever he cums.

“I-I love you.”

His entire body collapses into an orgasm. He sobs onto your chest, he’s unsure whether it’s because of how fucking good that felt or the forthcoming response you’ll give as he’s finally admitted it.

What he didn’t expect however, is the fact that it’s not only his face that’s soaking from tears.

“I hate you.” You say.

There’s a hurt in his chest and he wants to take it back but what’s already been said is right there. He wants to apologize. It’s his fault after all for thinking anybody would think of him as anything more than a friend, for catching feelings—

His thoughts are silenced as you kiss him once more, it only lasts for a few and he’s left stunned as to why you would do that.

“I thought you finally caught on. I was so happy when you said you love me, I was caught off guard,”

You take a deep breath, calming yourself.

“And then, you decide to avoid me?! I even sent you qingxin, and you know I don’t like high places!”

…

“You like—no, you love me?” Kaeya states, the thought seems way too unbelievable.

“Obviously! Who in their right mind would address their friend as theirs?” You spat back.

You groan, pushing his already weak body away.

“I love you too, Kaeya. Don’t do that again, okay? You worried the shit out of me.”

“I…Okay. I won’t, I promise.”

He starts walking towards you shakily before pulling you into a tight hug. 

It’s a strange hug. The breeze is far too cold, your clothes are now sticky, and both of your eyes are red from crying. 

Yet somehow, it’s comforting.

It’s perfect.

#plattered writings #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich x reader #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #dom reader #transmasc!kaeya

[boyinafandom]

Hitting The Curve

Notes;

Modern day au

Y/n is gender neutral

_________

Spencer, knew he liked you. It was only friendly of course. Your his coworker.

Why would he ever want to date you? Sure, you’re just as smart as him, listen to him rant on and on without getting bored. And-Oh- another thing, out of every one in and outside of the office he seems to be the only person you’re ever actually nice to.

So he didn’t really understand why he got this tingling all over his body and why his mind went blank and his face got hot when you simply leaned on his arm..ok maybe let me be more specific..

You, him and Derek, had been talking about how much you liked cd’s, he doesn’t really remember how you guys got here, because he was reading and only inserted himself into the conversation when you asked what kind of music he liked.

“Classical.”

He stated simply

(This is important for later)

After a few seconds to long of silence, he spoke up again

“Or opera”

He watched you nod, Not really caring what Derek had to say in this moment, that’s what was odd about how he felt about you. He craved you’re attention. He yearned for it.

But anyway. Back to the story.

“Uh huh..”

You nodded

“I don’t really listen to music though, I prefer vinyl’s in all honesty”

He did.

“Oh yes! That was the subject at hand.”

You lightened

“I prefer cd’s, I do use my phone for music, of course,it’s only natural this day In age. But I just like the feel of having a physical copy of things.”

“I should know, I’ve seen the atrocious amount of cd racks you have in your living room”

Derek chimed. Chuckling. But all Spencer could think about was that Derek Morgan. The womanizer, got himself into your house, and did what?

“Well duh. Everyone saw it.when I said “don’t mind the racks” I wasn’t talking about money. I literally meant racks. Like of CD’s.”

You rolled you’re eyes playfully, like it was some big inside joke he wasn’t apart of…

“Uh- if I may ask- what kind of music do you listen to?”

He felt like a kid, asking out the hottest girl in his freshmen class (who. For him, was like 4 years older then him. Not the point but also…kind of the point)

“You may”-you Plato-“I listen to a lot of stuff, it’s kind of hard to explain it, it really depends on my mood in the moment. But if I had to pinpoint a specific genre it would probably be /insert your favorite/ most listened to genre here/ but over all I listen to just about anything.”

You shrug, pleased with you’re explanation.like a content cat.

“I actually have a few on me right now”

You only really seemed happy when you talked about things you liked…you were happy when you talked to him…so by proxy,you liked him..

“Oh god..here we go…”

Derek practically groaned

He heard Rosie chuckle on the other side of the jet

You smile, and pull out a CD holder

“Oh that looks like a lot more then a few..”

Spencer says, kind of just staring at it, like he’s trying to find something interesting to say, but he just can’t, like, the words won’t come to him.

And then it’s like your brain sparks a wire

“What if I got you a CD? Any one you want, I’ll find one and get it for you? How does that sound?”

You say, leaning on his shoulder and smiling

“You don’t have to answer, I’m gonna get you one anyway…trust.”

And like that his heart was on fire.

That was the moment he realized he was in love with you, or, that it was leading to love, that It would get that far. That he liked you as much as he did, the way you smiled, and leaned against his arm in the jet seat, how you, looked at him. The boy genius. The man who’s only good trait was his brain.

Time froze. Thank god for his memory. Because he’s never gonna forget this moment. ever.

___

This is also on wattpad! So if you want to keep up with it easer the tag is “boyinafandomtumblr”

:3

Part 2

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds

[needle-noggins]

Volume 7 destroyed me. Part 1 of whatever this analysis is. Lots of talk about childhood trauma. Vash is such a complex character so if there are inconsistencies in my logic here, help me.

So in Volume 7, we get some pretty heavy flashbacks to Vash and Knives' shared trauma of discovering Tesla, and it's juxtaposed with Vash meeting up with Knives in the ark, contrasting then and now. Highlighting how they've changed and developed in response to their shared trauma - which is to say, in opposite ways. And not necessarily just due to their personalities. In fact, I would say that Knives is more sensitive, sweet, and trusting pre-Tesla. Vash is a bit more aloof, although still a good kid.

Also, here's the lily.

White flowers are a common Japanese symbol for death/grief and are primarily used in funerals. Lilies can symbolize purity and innocence (don't quote me on this one though). Rem must have put that flower there and kept it alive. She does say that she opposed the experimentation and regrets Tesla's suffering and death, but this drives the point home in a way that also highlights Rem's character and her love for flowers (which, tbh, seems more of a Tristamp thing I think? Regardless, I hope the next season of Stampede has more Tesla flashbacks with the white lily. That would be a nice nod to the manga).

Back to Tesla trauma. God, it makes me sick. The cold, detached way in which she's described as the "subject" hits home for me because I have to write like that for a living working in healthcare. It's commonplace and required, but man, it's terrifying reading it and understanding that there's 0 compassion in there. Medical ethics (or lack thereof) are my kryptonite. It gets me every time.

To make things worse, it's gory in it's own sterile way. Tesla's body is contained in nice little tanks, but if you look into those tanks... oof. She's riddled with tumors, organs are near-indistinguishable, and her small little child legs make it all the more horrifying. That's a child. With a detached, tiny baby angel arm in another tank. It may be important to note that this is reminiscent of Vash's angel arm (it's the right arm) but also it's the arm that's detached (well, both of Tesla's are, but this one was likely removed first and by Dr. Conrad and the team). Foreshadowing, in a weird way? And Tesla's entire brain is in another tank, with her eye. At what point did this happen? Was she still conscious for that? I want to scream.

Vash is not handling this well. He's the first to cry out about the differences between plants and humans. Also, the composition of that last panel here is incredible - the emotion is palpable. And the eyes?? Eyes of all the humans, watching them as they sleep in the ship, waiting to pounch, or Tesla's eyes, watching from the tank, casting judgement down? Either way, it's evocative. Poor baby Vash. He is so so angry and so scared.

Knives, meanwhile, shatters so badly that he blocks it out and/or represses it without showing a single emotion - as a defense mechanism. This certainly seems more like a Vash-style response, right?

Do remember that these boys are twins. Despite all their differences that have baked in as adults now, they were much more similar as kids. The specific circumstances in their experience immediately post-Tesla then shape them for the rest of their lives and cause the rift between them that we see today (in the same volume, no less). It's nothing but pure tragedy.

Which then brings us to the next scene - Vash, even at such a young age, is already showing tendencies of self-harm and suicidal ideation. He's refusing to eat, wasting away. He'd rather die than live long enough to become another experiment, to be subjected to that torture. There is no safe place for him in this world of humans, and Knives is refusing to acknowledge it (he's literally asleep during this; we love an avoidant king - jk but i'm handshaking w/ Knives; relatable). Rem, bless her, tries to treat Vash to some freshly-cut fruit (also a symbol of familial love in Japan - acts of service and all) but ya know, she forgets the cardinal rule when handling someone who is suicidal - don't let them have access to sharp objects. No knives for you, Vash.

BIG MOM MOMENT. Rem grabs the sharp edge of the blade and lets it cut her to prevent Vash from harming himself. She may not have birthed these boys, but damn if she isn't their mother in every other way. (also, quick point - generational trauma - Rem's grief over Alex's death becomes Vash's grief over Rem's death? I don't have good formed thoughts on this yet).

UGH. The flip side of Rem's blank ticket philosophy - the future is blank, so why throw the present away? There's always, always hope. Isn't that just the overarching message of Trigun?

This is obviously a formative moment for Vash. He never forgets this lesson.

Caveat to this, Vash is still a very self-destructive character as an adult, verging on suicidal without being outrightly so. He has let this moment shape his character, but he still others himself in that he believes this philosophy doesn't apply to him, an Independent. Vash has said before that there's no hope for him, he wishes he had never been born, and he's only really alive to destroy Knives and finish what they started. That's uh, Not Good... what will make Vash want to finally live? (*shhhhh, spoilers!*) Anyway, Vash applies this lesson to Wolfwood in Wolfwood's weakest moment. Vash sees himself in Wolfwood in the "Shoot" moment, no doubt, he sees his fear and anger, even if it's a bit of a different flavor. Wolfwood is simultaneously suicidal in that moment and has this twisted logic of, If Vash can kill me he can kill anyone; this will help him and i'm willing to die for that cause.

Someone tell me their thoughts on this parallel. I kinda just want to scream incoherently about it. That's all I got.

Anyway.

It takes some extra learning in this moment before Vash can figure his shit out. He takes the situation from bad to worse - he's still angry at humans for his pain, still terrified. He's so angry that he stabs Rem - his mother figure, the only person other than Knives that he's ever known and trusted - and instantly regrets it, terrified that he'll lose her (before his worst fears are later realized, and he does and it's his fault, again).

It's like, you know, the feeling when you hurt your sibling because you're so fucking mad at them, but the moment they're actually hurt, you're instantly filled with fear and regret? (THIS WILL COME INTO PLAY LATER TOO I PROMISE.)

I can imagine it's 10 times worse with a parent.

And Knives is asleep! For all of this! I think the one big takeaway with the twins is that Vash has always been the more outwardly emotional one, and Knives has always been more sensitive but withdrawn. Vash expresses his anger outwardly, getting it out quickly, even if it's very destructive in the moment. But this moment teaches him to do otherwise - he sees the result of his anger, and he's terrified out of doing anything to cause harm ever again. Vash tries to kill Rem! Vash, who now wouldn't hurt a soul, even if he wants to! He's terrified of the consequences, and with the added idolization of Rem's memory... yeah. So as an adult, Vash turns away from "flight" and into "fawn" as his main trauma response. He just wants to make things right and he's willing to break a hundred times for it so no one else has to get hurt. (he's also very much a "flight" still, but ya know)

Knives sits back, represses, plots until his emotions have twisted beyond recognition and his resulting actions are a hundred times more irrational and fucked up. Very much "fight". And it's even more terrifying, actually.

When Knives wakes up, he's calm. He's collected. He says he doesn't remember what happened. He's plotting to doom the whole SEEDS project. He's going to kill them all, and he's not showing a single emotion until he's gleefully realized his plan is working. That's horrifying.

I think this is where I'll stop for now. I'm not a therapist or psychiatrist or expert in trauma in any way and this post is quickly running away from me and into a psychoanalysis of the twins, which I just don't feel equipped to do here, never mind have the right words for. But at least this can get a conversation started.

#trigunbookclub #trimax #trimax spoilers #GOD i juST SJKDHGKSJHFKKHS

[queenburd]

Disclaimer that the depictions of memory loss are probably not accurate to real life, I’m not researching this stuff I’m playing with tsp memory stuff. Woo.

Basic premise: the narrator wakes up and joins stanley for breakfast, having woken up without memory of their long term friendship and relationship, freedom, etc. he’s about as close to his original iteration as possible.

He has, however, woken up to find a journal on the bedside table written in his own hand, explaining the situation. This would probably be formatted as like bullet points that get revealed as the fic goes on. The journal explains that he and Stanley love each other, have escaped into the real world, and so on.

It also explains that they are not sure what causes the memory wipes, nor are the triggers to return the memories ever consistent. This written account ponders that it may be the parable attempting to return the both of them to the game, but there’s no solid evidence.

The ‘resets’ are inconsistent, it notes. Sometimes it only wipes his memories of their freedom but leaves his memories of the parable, sometimes it takes them all. Sometimes his emotions are all still there but without the context.

He can go weeks without losing his memory, and then wake up and have it wiped every morning for a solid month. Sometimes it’s more like a waiting game, where he knows his memories are gone and is just trying to find normalcy in the hours or days it takes to come back.

The journal reassures that even though this is a tough pill to swallow, to just try to trust stanley. And don’t try to pretend he remembers because Stanley can see through his lies.

The entire thing is written by someone far softer and happier than the narrator that sits at the coffee table across from Stanley. Stanley greets him good morning, asks how he slept—and can almost immediately understand what’s happened based on the way the narrator sits stiffly and avoids his eyes and stares at the table.

Stanley is gentle with him. He makes coffee for him that the narrator challenges, assuming it’s poisoned or something. Stanley raises a brow and sips at it. The narrator finally drinks at it and finds that he adores it, it’s disgustingly sweet. Yes, fine, alright, even if he feels like a different person than the one who wrote the journal, his tastes are the same.

Stanley rolls his eyes and gags belatedly because goddamn his husband likes his coffee too sweet. It’s disgusting.

They talk a little bit about this. The narrator expresses that he doesn’t like the idea of being so utterly dependent on Stanley, nor does he like the thought that Stanley is doing this to get the narrator that remembers back.

Stanley explains with infinite patience (the patience of a man who has had this conversation many times before) that the narrator isn’t dependent on him, nor is Stanley doing this to get a specific version back.

They do this as a team. Everything they have ever done has been as a duo, even if it is fighting in the parable. This is no burden on Stanley, to keep his narrator with him. That’s what love is, anyway.

“Every moment that we make a new memory is more than worth the work,” he says.

He says.

(“I do,” he whispered—“narrator!” He screamed—“I love you,” he laughed—“Marry me?” He asked—)

It’s overwhelming when the memories flood back and it’s exhausting to know he’s had this exact conversation again. The narrator can see Stanley’s micro expressions in retrospect and can see how this is so hard on him, and how he’s so resigned to it.

But once the narrator recovers from his emotional outburst from having years worth of love and hurt and heartache shoved back into his brain, he and Stanley have a nice long cuddle.

Another conversation that the narrator knows they’ve had before, and the fact he keeps making them do it makes him wince, but he hates doing this to Stanley. He loves him so very much, and even now after all these years, the narrator can’t stop hurting him.

It’s not his fault, Stanley reminds him. And he meant what he said, that it’s nothing in the face of new experiences together. Stanley will do this forever if he has to.

The narrator chokes. He doesn’t deserve this man. He loves him.

Stanley takes him back to bed. (Insert jokes here about reminding him how good the sex is or something. I… am not immune to two fictional characters fucking.)

#the sparrow parable #tsp #and then there’s some followup fic from Stanley pov but. shrugs. this idea is fledged out so here

[prsk-krow]



Hi! I love your work. As someone who has various circumstances as well, I love Kanade a lot and. I would like to request a (R) Kanade x Reader to fill my Kanade shaped hole in my feelings and my brain. Thank you!

{Kanade general headcanons!} [R]

.‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿.

)─── ･ ｡ﾟ*.☽ .* •ﾟ. ───(

Taking care of Kanade. This shouldn't be a surprise, especially if the relationship was planned, which it should be with Kanade. And with taking care of her I mean in more than one way!

Physically! Make sure she gets at least one walk around the block daily, accompanying her and making small talk to distract her from the tired feeling on her legs! Trust me, even this is far better than what she'd do normally...

Mentally! Check up on her every half an hour once she stuffs herself into her room, or simply stay with her inside! Chat with her to ensure that she isn't overworking, or stressing out over anything!

And emotionally! Keep her spirits up by complimenting her work, and ensuring that her will stays strong! This may be easy at first, but it does start to get tough once her father comes into the mix.

You'll accompany her with her visits to her father, and eventually he'll accept you to take care of his kid! After all, he can notice how different Kanade is alongside you, in a good way!

"You know, I was a little scared of introducing you to him, but... I remember now, how kind he always was to me when we were young... He praised me, took care of me, inspired me to be better while he knew that I was leaving him behind on talent..."

Sometimes she'll start to feel bad again, and miss her old life. It's up to you to ensure that these small periods of time don't end with her overworking or refusing to eat as she used to do before she met Nightcord!

Now, dates. Most of the time, you'll spend visiting her in her home, and just relaxing. The shut in likes to analyze music in various shows and movies, so your couch watching sessions will definitely be a unique experience!

She'll teach you all about the specific details of music that most people watching these films don't know about! Not just with music though, sound effects are in her area of expertise too! It's wild to see how much she knows.

However, you also need to take her outside from time to time, and not just on walks! Go buy her a drink, or maybe even eat at a nearby restaurant! Trust me, the experience will 100% inspire her once more. She can draw ideas out of practically anything.

Maybe you can even convince her to go out on a picnic at a nearby field! It may take a bit into the relationship to get to this point, but having her lay on the grass, while you both eat sandwiches is quite the special first time...

"To be completely honest with you, I... I never imagined myself doing this. I used to think that the outdoors life and I were incompatible, but... You've shown me just how nice it can be alongside the right people. That's right, I don't think this experience would've been this special without someone like you next to me. You have no idea how much I appreciate you..."

Outside of dates, you'll also learn to brush and wash her hair! Yeah, she may know how to do it, but it's so much more relaxing for her when you do it instead... It definitely helps a lot with her nerves and stress.

And also you'll be the first person she shows her demos to before showing them to Nightcord! At first you'll just compliment her, but as she teaches you about musical theory, you may even get the chance to make helpful constructive feedback!

She'll also enjoy you bringing extra clothes over to feel what other ways of dressing feel like! She definitely doesn't like fancy stuff, but it's definitely gonna be a massive success when you convince her to buy a hoodie, or a new jacket!

Overall, life with Kanade as your partner is sweet, and overall quite a calm experience. You definitely need to help her out with her own problems, and to take care of her lifestyle, but when she shows such kindness and love in return, it's clear how worth it it is.

#project sekai #project sekai headcanons #project sekai imagines #project sekai x reader #prsk #prsk x reader #pjsk #pjsk x reader #pjsekai #pjsekai x reader #kanade yoisaki #kanade yoisaki x reader #yoisaki kanade #yoisaki kanade x reader #/cawcanons

[squirrelno2]

Assuming that you play Swtor... Who are your main 8 Ocs and what's your favorite class/romance?

muahahaha so you have in fact met at least one of them via my sideblog, @relevant-url-incoming, because you asked about Kit there, but I always welcome the chance to ramble/infodump/annoy the shit out of people who are following me for not-even-star-wars-adjacent things SO:

(disclaimer: this may get spoilery. it's all very out of context spoilers, but if anyone reading this cares about swtor spoilers. be warned.)

Ven is a name some people following me here will remember, specifically as a four year old Nautolan who adopts Dogma, the clone. She also, in the grand scheme of my silly little swtor nonsense, is a time traveller who grows up to fuck shit up in the distant past. As one does. She's my trooper and my Alliance Commander and my precious baby girl mary sue beloved. She's also committed a few war crimes in her youth but what is a war crime to the star wars galaxy anyway? nobody knows. it's fine.

Nalyan is her brother, newly introduced in the same fic series i allude to above, and my smuggler. He is... grumpy. and an asshole. and also overall much more likely to save an enemy than most of my ocs, but that always surprises people due to the grumpiness. I ship him very hard with Corso and Risha who I do not ship with each other, which makes for a delightful dynamic in my head. sometimes besties just have sex with the same man it's whatever.

Kitiver is my Jedi Knight whose anxiety made him fall big-time, and he is full of self-loathing and self-doubt. He's overall kind of neutral in how the game sets up morality but when I write him it's the inwardly directed anger and the way that splashes out onto others that keeps him dark, even though all he wants is to be a good person. He doesn't really believe he's capable of that, anymore. oops.

Kaojacol is my Consular who went from a kind of coldhearted closed off person to the biggest softie who just wants to be a good friend and wife and mom. She's... a good friend? to be fair to her the wife and mom thing kind of got out of control with the whole zakuul thing. Sorry Felix and also the kid I made up for them.

Exchei is my Sith Inquisitor and she's so nice, for someone who'll shock you with Force lightning if you piss her off. Her backstory is always kind of fresh in her mind, and she really really wants to reform the Empire and stop slavery. also if you give her something nice and expensive and don't betray her she'll love you forever, which is how Andronikos sold her on the whole romance thing when she still wasn't sure if she could trust him.

Ri'gastio is a fucking asshole and also my bounty hunter. He's just. He's the guy who does every mean thing and kills everyone he can kill and makes everyone pay for everything he does for them because he figures if the world screwed him over there's no point in him being nice. He might as well do the same. I want to smack him so badly.

Tavansa is my Sith Warrior, she is my pathetic wet cat lesbian who just wants Vette to love her in spite of her many murderous tendencies and the fact that she's kind of unbearable to be around. A real attack dog kind of person, if an attack dog was also always calculating how people might perceive her behaviour so she can make sure the people (Vette) she cares about see her in the best light possible.

Sarrant is my Agent and he's... very hard to explain honestly? Like he starts out super loyal and that gets burned to hell and back, and he falls for fucking Kaliyo of all people even though he likes to let people live and help them out and generally enjoys being nice, and he also will just cut a bitch for looking at him wrong - man has issues. He's made lighter choices than his sister Tavansa but he is equally fucked.

As for my favourite class and romance uhhhh... story-wise it probably is Jedi Knight because that shit is juicy, though i think in terms of juiciness Agent is also up there. But if we're talking straight-up soft spots I really like the trooper storyline. I like that I got to force Ven to solve the trolley problem like twenty times. That was great. She names her kid after Jaxo, that's how bad that hurt her.

I also really like romancing Jorgan, possibly also because of Ven, but especially for Timothy Omundson's little voice crack when you reunite with him. Like damn. how can i resist that. I haven't romanced Elara in-game yet but the version of her that lives in my head and is married to Ven and Jorgan is great. kind of terrified to find out if the actual romance lives up to that but I adore her so if it doesn't I shall simply rewrite it.

#I refuse to put this under a cut you shall all see my infodump and SUFFER #but yeah this and more is all on that sideblog I think except maybe my favourites #but thank youuuuuu i cannot express the giddiness i feel upon recieving such questions. my little fucked up children #anyway sideblogs are fun it's like i accidentally have two identities. or five really. shh #swtor #Ven (oc) #Nalyan (oc) #not gonna tag all of them because they live elsewhere but i do have ven and nalyan stuff on this blog so. tag! #still don't have an ask tag

[crystaledhearts]

Same Anon as the 'should i believe the higher up alter telling you you're programmed' here. It's kind of nice to talk here because of how you said it's okay to be wrong.

More Context to add to our previous ask:

We've done research into RAMCOA as a whole. Reading typically recommended literature [don't remember the books off the top of my head], looking at online resources, and the likes. By all means, it seems like we were victims of, at the least, RA and TBMC in more of an atypical sense. Memories [which fluctuate between alters, for example rn] and recent discoveries has helped us to know we at least have alters who function identical to programmed alters.

We just don't know a perp group or anything, and have no in depth trauma memories. We have no evidence other than brief flashes of memories, the alters themselves, nd nightmares we have once in a blue moon, but it's hard to rely on that when we trigger the alter who denies our memories a lil too hard. It always causes us to be weary with trusting ourselves and our own memory, and it's reinforced any time he's triggered out [which is sparse now bc of the reason in next paragraph].

I guess I should've also added that we are, currently, going through some sort of deprogramming process with the suspected sidesystem alters. It's still happening, and we scour for resources that we think may help. Deprogramming materials have been what have helped with those alters. We try to be proactive and nip things at the bud [so to speak], so we have already started working on it with our therapist without outright saying we suspect RAMCOA. It's kind of the same thing with our ocd [random ik] in the sense that it's only suspected, but highly likely, and we already began to take care of.

I just want a TBMC system's input because I just,,, don't know??? The Overseer actually gets angry when we deny it now [before he would've encouraged it]. He finds it annoying, to be so straight up [he basically goes "it wouldn't be an issue if you would just accept it and move on" in so many words]. It does cause me some stress because I don't,,, know how to trust myself with this? I don't know if i can believe my memories or nightmares or anything. I worry that I'm making things up, and I really don't want to do that to such a stigmatized group of people IN a stigmatized group of people, if that makes sense.

I just don't know how people find out about this kind of stuff, I don't know if it's normal to not know things like a perp group or not remembering outright, like, torture. Every time I see a TBMC system, they have all their trauma sorted out and they knew that for a long time. I've been in DID recovery for 3 years, and I'm just now finding this out. I was just starting to think we were almost fully healed from past traumas, and then this whole suspected sidesystem comes out of nowhere. How does someone even reliably find out they have a programmed sidesystem?

It’s okay to not remember any groups or large details. We can only remember one abuser but we do not know which specific place he was in as we went to two different churches when we were younger. We think it might be one close to where we grew up, but we could be wrong. So it’s okay to not remember that.

If you’re having a specific alter be triggered to throw you into denial episodes, pay close attention but not too much attention. Flashbacks, memories, and nightmares can play a major role into what you’ve gone through.

You’re not making anything up. If your Overseer is getting upset with you and going through means of deprogramming is helping you, it might be best to trust the Overseer rather than the one causing your denial. Our gatekeeper/overseer was the same way, even other alters that know are upset when we fling ourselves into denial on accident without knowing the trigger/cue. They get upset with us because we then say that it’s all made up. We have no genuine proof it existed besides our own breakdowns, nightmares, flashbacks, etc..

We don’t know everything about our own trauma regarding TBMC/programming. Does that make us any less of a survivor? No. Does it make you any less of one? Not at all.

Do what can help you best, even if it crosses over into a space such as RAMCOA while still questioning and suspecting. It’s okay.

To find out about a sidesystem, we asked around about ours. It’s why we know about the Gems. Do we know when they front? Not particularly but I know it causes us to feel a certain way with a headache when they do. It’s okay to not know, take your time and be patient. Don’t force yourself to know things if you’re not ready to know them yet.

And it is always okay to be wrong. But if something is helping you such as using deprogramming resources, then let it help you. It is a resource. It is meant to be used in means of help, no matter what.

Take care of yourself, Anon.

#anti endo #ramcoa #ramcoa survivor #tbmc did #tbmc survivor #hc did #tbmc #tw tbmc #programmed did #programming survivor #tw programming mention #tw programming #tbmc tw

[doublel27]

Fic Origin Story

Many thanks to @reyesstrand and @marwani-strickland for the tag. Did I think villain origin story when I read it? Yes. Is my life as a fic writer villanous? IDK.

What was your first fandom (reading or writing)?

My first fandom was General Hospital. I began reading and writing fic in that fandom circa 1999-2001 So, you know, before some of y'all were born. It's fine. I'm fine. You're fine.

It was back in the days that you had to join like an EzBoard to post and share fic. yes I'm old. And, and, like a lot of EzBoards were specific to your pairing of choice (I was a member of several) and you had to actual pass a quiz to get inside the ezboard to prove you were a fan of said pairing because antis would infiltrate and sow chaos. Flame wars were a thing and such. I learned so much in those days. I still had dial-up and my chapters were super short. I saved my fic to floppy disks, so...you know...it was a time.

2. What was the first story you ever wrote (even if it was never posted) and what made you write it?

The FIRST story I ever wrote, that I remember, as a fanfic was probably a Little Women fix it fic where Laurie and Jo got married instead of Laurie and Amy and Jo and Professor Behr at like, ten years old. I wrote it one of those hardcover blank books you could buy. I have since reconsidered my position after learning more about Louisa May Alcott and WHY she made the choices she made.

The first story I ever published as a fandom fic was a Jason/Robin sweeping get back together story in the General Hospital fandom (have they been together since 1998 - no, do I think it's one of the biggest mistakes the show has ever made - maybe). Robin was still in Paris and I think she maybe had a secret baby. There were kidnappings, shootings, and many other things that fit a daytime soap fic written by a high schooler in the margins of her notebooks.

I think it's still on floppy disks in my parent's house.

3. What's a pice of advice you would give to your younger fic writing self?

Care less about what other people are doing. Care more about how you treat others. Constructive critism is a gift, take it as it's meant and have your friends read your work and tell you that you NEED A PERIOD or DO YOU KNOW WHAT COMMAS ARE or YOU'VE USED THIS WORD THREE TIMES THIS PAGE or MORE FEELINGS HERE PLEASE or I DON'T UNDERSTAND THIS. They make your writing better.

4. What is an early fandom interaction that has stuck with you (be it a nice comment, a friend you made, a fic that got a lot of feedback)

Oh man, there's so many. Some are wonderful, like the reactions to every chapter I posted of those early fics.

Some are things I learned the hard way, like being a teenager who made friends with another teenager and some women in their 20s and 30s and one of them was very much a bully who had us turn on one of the friends we had by telling lies and got us to harrass her. I learned a lot about how to trust people online and how to spot people who might tell lies to play people on the interent like puppets for their own power. It makes it far easier to spot now that I'm old. Also, I remember how very compassionate the woman we harrassed, my friend Dani, was, and she was a little bit younger than I am now. and How she really accepted our apology, told us how much we hurt her, and allowed the two children she'd befriended to do better when they figured out how they'd been played. I hope to have half her grace as a fandom old these days.

5. What is a sentence or two from one of your older fics and a sentence or two from a newer one (if you want)?

For y'all, let's do 3. The first from around 20 years ago, then we'll grab something from 10 years ago, and something from now? Sound good? You do know that by now you're getting more than a sentence or two from me. From Choices - a fanfiction following X2/X3 movie verse -posted on Fanfiction.net on June 1, 2003.

Jubliee stared at the young man across from her. There was something so familiar about this one, something she couldn't put her finger on just yet. Then it hit her, "St. John?" The spark in his eyes, the fire that matched his talent was unmistakable. No wonder the armored car was burning at such a rapid pace.

From Ruined - A Legend of Korra fanfic centered on the breakup of Tenzin and Lin Beifong posted on AO3 on January 5, 2014

He’d asked her to move with him to Air Temple Island and she’d laughed.  Thinking on it now, the sound of it was harsh and cruel to her own ears. 

“Why,” she’d laughed, “when you have all of your Air groupies?”

He’d sighed and steepled his fingers in that serious thinking pose he had. “They’re not groupies, Lin,” he had reproved her. “They are people who have been keeping my father’s culture alive for the better part of a century and they are continuing to sustain it.  What if—” A sadness had entered his eyes.  “I could be the last one, Lin.  There might never be another.”

“Tenzin—”  She couldn’t have brought herself to lie and say that she would ensure that he wouldn’t be.   Lin wouldn’t even suggest that Bumi could miraculously have an illegitimate child that was an airbender out somewhere.   “Then come here.  Live in the city.  You already work here and we could find a good space for Oogi.”

“I want to marry you Lin,” he had said, quietly. 

Lin had looked up from her paperwork and given him a pointed glance.  “Does that marriage include children?”

“I am the last living airbender, Lin,” Tenzin reminded her. “I do want children one day.”

From let me be the one at day's end - a 911 Lone Star (more cow eyes series) fic posted on AO3 on June 30, 2022

Carlos snaps off the radio, unwilling to listen to the continued banter as they joke about this. There’s too many containers of flammable gas in the back of a bus to make light of a bullet ricocheting in there. He pulls out his phone before looking at his mother in the seat beside him. Her brown eyes are wide and worried and he can’t look at them for too long.

When he looks back down at his phone he realizes his hand is shaking. “I’m just—He’s on a shift and he probably can’t pick up—”

And from a personal favorite, You Can Have My Back - a Schitt's Creek Twylexis 911 AU posted on AO3 on October 14, 2022

Alexis looks over the turnouts, which happen to be an unfortunate combination of khaki and orange. The fabric is rough and heavy, which makes sense for protecting one's body from a fire, but there are plenty of fire-resistant clothes that aren’t these ancient heavy things. “Don’t they have, umm, like those cuter black and yellow numbers that are a little thinner?”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, princess. Does this department look like it’s made of money?” Ronnie takes a moment to wink at her. “Besides, orange is the new pink.”

“Mmm, totally,” Alexis murmurs.

Ronnie narrows her eyes, and jerks her thumb at the gear. “You know how to put this on in time?”

Being underestimated is something Alexis is well used to. In fact, being underestimated has saved her life countless times where people thought she was too stupid or too thoughtless or too pretty to know her way around a gun or a fancy car or out of a pair of handcuffs. Normally it didn’t sting.

She pulls herself up to full height and sniffs. “I passed the volunteer qualifications exam, didn’t I?”

Tagging: @marjansmarwani @petalwritesx @blackandwhiteandrose @missgeevious @sunshinestrand @strandnreyes @lilythesilly @maxbegone @tailoredshirt @beautifulhigh

Feel free not to, friends, but I'm curious.

#xmen #legend of korra #911 lone star #schitt's creek #fan fiction #my long fandom life #doublel27 talks #doublel27 writes #the many lives of doublel27

[arceespinkgun]

Here’s a another fic I wrote for the TF Rare Pairing Fest! This one is TFA SenOp (Sentinel/Optimus). It’s a post-canon fic about Sentinel and Optimus moving on with their lives and Sentinel reflecting on his past. Now also on AO3.

October 26: Ghosts/Newly Born

Just When I’d Stopped Opening Doors

“Online your optics, Optimus!” Sentinel exclaimed, gesturing to the entire floor of consoles. There were so many screens, it was like looking at the stars. “I hereby grant you full access to the archives.”

“W-Wait, I didn’t ask for this!” Optimus sounded so frazzled and indignant, it was music to Sentinel’s audio receptors. “I thought you’d just declassify a couple of documents for me to read!” 

“But isn’t this what you really wanted?” Sentinel asked. “You can’t deny that!”

“Well... yes, I do want this, but Sentinel, it would be nepotism!” Optimus snapped. 

Sentinel saw this reaction coming a lightyear away. It was just like Optimus to throw a kind gesture back in his face-plate like this—but by this point, Sentinel understood that he wasn’t trying to be an ingrate. He was just being uptight, selfless, and most of all, stupid. Kind of endearing, actually. Sentinel put an arm around Optimus’s shoulders. “Everybody gets opportunities from their connections, Optimus,” he explained, “what matters is that I know a history nerd like you can actually be trusted with this.” He leaned in closer to add, “Think of it this way—since everyone sees you as such a big hero these days, if I keep you happy, everybody else will be happy with me.”

Optimus just heaved a sigh and looked down at the floor, all the pent-up excitement leaving his frame. His optics were hidden by the shadow cast by his little cap.

Sentinel stepped back. “Come on, that was a great argument! What’s your problem?!” When Optimus obstinately said nothing, Sentinel pointed at him. “Tell me what’s bothering you, Magnus’s orders!”

Optimus gave him an unimpressed glare, but at least he actually looked up instead of hanging his helm. But the fact that he was not complaining about an “abuse of power” or anything really showed how troubled he was. It took Optimus a moment to actually gather his words. “...It’s not about this... gesture. It’s actually very kind of you, Sentinel.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But every time I’m reminded of how everybody sees me as a hero now—which is unfortunately often—I can’t stand it. It’s so shallow!”  

“This again? You brought in Megatron himself—”  

Optimus cut him off. “I know I’m a hero, but how am I supposed to actually enjoy any of this praise—especially from Ultra Magnus—when only a few stellar cycles ago, Ultra Magnus didn’t even seem relieved to see me alive on Earth?! I had to find out I’d been declared dead while filling out forms after the fact!” He paused. “Come to think of it, I also couldn’t figure any of this out from how you acted, either. Were you even upset when you thought I was offline?” His glare was even more piercing than before.

Sentinel looked pointedly away. “Don't be like that, I might not have seemed torn up about it when we met you on Earth, but it's not as if I was happy about what happened, either!”

”I specifically asked if you were upset.”

Sentinel could not bring himself to turn to look at him. “Listen, Optimus, we may have a... difficult history, but obviously I never wanted you to die, so I wasn't celebrating your death and I did give you a nice eulogy. But it’s not my fault if I don't remember feeling that much at the time, so no, I can't say I was upset—actually, scratch that, I remember being upset that I had to speak at your funeral. Thanks, Ultra Magnus....” As he remembered that solar cycle, it felt like his processor was filling with static. 

“What did you do right after the funeral, Sentinel?” Optimus asked, his tone softer than before.

Now the space behind Sentinel’s optical sensors was really starting to hurt. “Uh, I got into an argument with ‘Longarm’ about the Allspark being lost... oh, and then I went to go get some high-grade energon so I could finally say all the bad things about you I couldn't talk about in the eulogy! And then...”

Sentinel hated the Memorial Plaza ever since Elita’s memorial service. When Ultra Magnus told him to eulogize Optimus, Sentinel dreaded standing in it again. But strangely, even though he could compare the Plaza in his memory files to the one he was leaving now and could line up the images precisely, it seemed unfamiliar. Sentinel struggled to gauge the distance between the statues and to the burnished buildings on the horizon, even though he had seen them countless times. Despite all the dread and anger that had settled in his tanks before Optimus’s service, he found himself with more numbness hanging over him than any fury. Numbness, but also an intense, throbbing processor ache, which probably explained why he was stumbling around and everything seemed so alien. Sentinel really needed that drink he had promised himself. 

He knew, vaguely, that the people who had attended and who were now slowly filing out of the Plaza were individuals he recognized. But they just looked like a grey, formless mass stretching out around him. Which made a lot of sense, actually. Like how when Sentinel thought back to sometime after Elita’s death, when he had achieved the rank of Minor, the names and faceplates of most of the cadets he had trained slipped away from him—even though he had named them all himself—because they all paled in comparison to who he had lost. Apparently now that Sentinel had survived Optimus as well, even more people were slipping away. It was weird how losing Elita and then Optimus caused him to... preemptively lose other people? With Elita, it made sense, because she could eclipse anyone else, but Optimus...

Sentinel transformed and sped away, searching for the closest bar, but even in his alt-mode he could not help but compare the gold color of the buildings and he drove past to the color of Elita’s armor, and then he was remembering her smile, and how she always took care of him and Optimus both, and how much stronger she was than both of them—not that rusty old Ultra Magnus ever recognized it. It was just like Optimus to go get himself killed and make Sentinel have to think about all of this again. 

Eventually Sentinel found a place and stepped through the doorway, and the low, dim lighting was a relief to his aching sensors. He could feel all the insulting remarks about Optimus he had kept down throughout the eulogy bubbling up, and he had planned to sit next to other bots and make them listen to what a coldsparked loser Optimus was, but now the thought of that felt off somehow, so he went to a more private, isolated table instead. He took a barrel of high-energon eagerly, even though he already felt really unsteady and like his spark was floating outside of his frame. Maybe, he thought while swallowing some high-grade, the feeling would actually improve with drinking instead of getting worse. 

“You are... uh... were just like the Allspark, Optimus,” he said to nobody, while looking up at the dark, indistinct ceiling. He expected to see the space filled with processor noise. “You’re better off being lost. With you around, things will only ever get worse,” he choked on the last word. The image of the Allspark blazing on the display the last time he had seen Optimus alive, not even in-person, surged to the surface of his mind. “You’re—were such a jerk!” Sentinel snapped, but not loudly enough for anybody to overhear. Optimus had his own fire inside of him, just like the Allspark. Oh sure, he seemed introverted and studious and responsible at first glance, but he was actually an uncompromising glitch head who was always waiting for the right moment to pinpoint the weaknesses of everyone around him. He had everyone fooled—Elita knew it, and Sentinel knew it, and Optimus’s true self was something to behold. That fire could have sparked new life within the Autobots.

“Too bad you ruined it,” Sentinel muttered. He took another drink, then continued, “You should’ve known I was making the right choice to go offline for you and Elita, but you couldn’t respect that, could you? So what if you... if you thought doing anything else would’ve gotten us all killed... couldn’t you at least have said you were sorry for choosing to save me... but you seemed hurt more by whatever Ultra Magnus thought than anything else! You were colder than a hyperfrost emitter.” But the more he tried to rant, the more he felt he was locked in a losing battle, the rage leaving his voice. It was hard enough to muster anger with all the numbness getting in the way, but now it was even worse because as he spoke, he could not help but put the pieces of the puzzle together. Optimus was Optimus. He always did reach for the solution that would have seemed most ideal written out. And even before all the bad energon that was between him and Sentinel... or had been, before Optimus’s death, he had always been detached and vicious. Was that not the same cold fire that had drawn Elita and Sentinel to him in the first place? Knowing Optimus, and Ultra Magnus was unfortunately right, Sentinel did know him best, maybe he was even trying to be strong for Sentinel’s own sake. 

As Sentinel followed this thought to its conclusion, he realized he knew. The knowledge came on suddenly, but there was no horror nor fanfare nor burst of relief. There was only the tingling feeling of the high-grade setting in, but even that was dulled by the numbness. It was not even like a switch had been flipped, it was less of a shock than even that would have been. It just made perfect sense—of course, with how Sentinel’s existence had always gone, he would end up surviving his two best friends and have had romantic feelings for them both. And he guessed he loved Elita because she was better than him and Optimus, and he loved Optimus because he was not better... but he definitely was something else. Something special. Though who could say what love even was, Sentinel had apparently felt it multiple times and he still did not know. With Elita, he had thought it was a feeling, the joy of being around someone and wanting to be close to them, but clearly that did not always apply to his feelings for Optimus. And later, Sentinel had thought love was an action one takes—that it was always taking care of someone—but that could not describe it either. But, it was all right that he did not know what it was. Obviously it was not important anymore. All that was important now was to work hard enough to shield every citizen of the Commonwealth and protect them from everything he had endured.

Upon realizing all of this, Sentinel noticed an overpowering roaring sound paired with bright light. Was there some brutal lightning storm going on? But wait, he was indoors, not outside. Why would there be lightning in the bar? Oh, it was just sparks pouring out of his optics reflecting off the now-empty barrel he had been drinking out of. Sentinel was dimly aware that expending this much energy could send him into stasis lock if he was not careful, but all he chose to do was lock his battle mask into place over his face-plate, shutting the sparks inside, as he lay down against the tabletop. 

“...actually, I don’t remember anything after the solar cycle of the memorial service,” Sentinel said, the pain in his processor fading. “The next thing I knew, it turned out you were alive! Why?”

“But wouldn’t that have been a period of... fifty-one stellar cycles?” Optimus asked. “It can’t be healthy to have that much of your memory inaccessible, Sentinel. You should really get that checked out.” It seemed like he had been distracted from everything that had been weighing on him before, which was a good thing. Sentinel was fine with having to remember all of that for a good cause—after all, it was not like all that suffering had mattered, and as he himself had pointed out, keeping Optimus happy was in his best interests.

“You think I should bother to ask Red Alert or First Aid about my memory?” Sentinel asked. He managed to turn and look at Optimus again. “But everyone has gaps in their memory like that when they don’t need to remember unimportant things. It doesn’t matter. Like how most of my time as a boot camp instructor didn’t matter. I don’t remember much of that, either.” 

“How can you say it doesn’t matter?! Arcee’s life was nearly ruined by having her memory erased!” 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t say this in front of her, Optimus. But that’s different. She was an Intel bot—it was her job to remember everything,” Sentinel said. “Unlike how disastrous things always seem to be on that dirt ball, Earth, most of us don’t have that many important things to remember.”

“Something important must have happened during that time,” Optimus said with certainty. What revealing thing had he noticed that made him so sure?

Sentinel’s antennae tilted back as he felt Optimus’s steely gaze on him. It looked especially intense in all the blue lights from the screens all over the place. “Uh... well...” Sentinel muttered, “honestly, probably just a bunch of stress and paperwork about your incident that was all pointless when you turned up alive and we found out you’d broken the Allspark.” 

Optimus seemed thoughtful. Sentinel felt the growing suspicion that Optimus knew something he did not. In the past, this would always make him feel like he needed to pull out his shield—figuratively speaking, anyway—because Optimus always seemed as likely to harm him as help him. But now that he had seen enough proof that Optimus did always want to help him deep down, he felt more anticipation than alarm. 

“So...” Optimus began, “what you’re saying is, ‘Nothing mattered until I knew you were alive, oh, and also the Allspark to hide that I mean that.’” His lips turned up slightly.

Sentinel froze and he heard more than felt his antennae flaring out. He fought the urge to cover his face-plate with his battle mask and instead tried to come up with some retort, but all he could vocalize was a little mechanical sound. 

Optimus’s smile widened as he strode with purpose up to him. Once he was close enough, he gently put a hand on one of Sentinel’s doors and then ran his other hand across Sentinel’s cape, clearly enjoying the texture. He leaned in close and said, softly, “Thanks, Sentinel, for letting me access all of these files. I accept the gift with my whole spark!”

“...You’re such a jerk.” Sentinel hid his blushing face-plate in his hands. And then the sound of Optimus’s laughter was ringing in his audio receptors, and Sentinel knew he was also receiving a precious gift.

#2022tfrarepairingfest #transformers animated #TFA #Sentinel Prime #Optimus Prime #SenOp #maccadam #My writing

[noxiatoxia]

Hi! So I have a few things I wanted to say/ask so hopefully this isn't too long or out of place or anything

Okay so first off, you always reblog and say such nice things about my art in the tags and I wanted to say I appreciate it so much, I never know what to say but like you're the backbone of the hikakao community so it feels like a seal of approval in a way haha. And your art is so amazing like, damn! I love it sm. Kaoru has been my fav character for nearly a decade so I love seeing that its not just me he has a grip on, and as an autistic person myself who loves princesses’ and specifically Cinderella… well your hc means a lot to me haha. Oh and your hanahaki fic??? I ugly cried. SO damn good like the characterizations… one of the best Hikakao fics I've read on god

So I kinda wanted to ask two things, first being if you had to choose for the other hosts to have a fav princess who would it be? Im personally very partial to Tamaki loving Belle, given the like french beauty and romanticism of it all, plus her giving herself up for the safety of a parent connection. I like the idea of him being kinda dumb and taking it as you need natural inner AND outer beauty, which he oh so obviously has in spades and that kind of nonsense. Idk I was just curious if you'd have an opinion on this as ive been giving it some thought lately. Especially on Hikaru, I think he would like a more down to earth princess that doesn't have too much frills or singing in the film, like Merida because it's the most adventurous one without character songs if you're just going off disney. But idk I feel like another princess would suit him better, I just can't think of one rn

Second was if you had any thoughts or analysis of how the maid the twins had when they were young impacted them and their development? And more importantly how it impacted them each differently? Like obviously her saying no one may ever be able to tell them apart fucked with their heads, but like idk. Ive been thinking about it. And what if they never met her, and she never said that? Would they of been less warped? I think they'd just meet someone else who they liked who couldn't tell them apart, who'd just say the same thing in a different way. But how key was her betrayal of trust during a high stakes robbery of their parent's estate to all this? Im just musing at this point lmao

Oh also less an ask but I personally hc Kaoru to dissociate and the like frequently, and how maybe them being in sync all the time in their mannerisms really helps him with his autopilot moments, and Hikaru is always ready and able to catch him up to speed on what's happening and what they just did, if its something he would care to know that is. And I hc Hikaru as bipolar, his depression just manifests really angerly instead of traditional sadness. But my point is I love the idea that they're just so used to the other that any mentally ill or neurodivergent behavior one of them does the others just like “Oh yeah Kaorus just like that. You know how it is. What do you mean you don't know anyone afraid of hairdryers? Like legit afraid? Yeah no thats just a thing. Hmm. Well you should get over it it's his fear not yours I dont see how it concerns you.” and like gets defensive if anyone tries to say it's weird lmao

Okay that was long oops I hope this wasn't out of place or weird or anything, I got excited talking about it haha. Hope all is going well!!

THIS IS SO FUCKING SWEET YES!!! I WAS DRAWING HIKAKAO RIGHT AS YOU SENT THIS ASK TOO BTW.... i was htinking like, should i post this... theres kissing..... but then i remember why it's so rewarding to do what I love <3 really and truly. I've met SO many incredibly kind, creative, and thoughtful people through hikakao it's insane. And tbh it makes me want to never stop posting about them even if it nets me hate every now and again LMAO it's just, stuff like this is irreplaceable to me. And I LOVE your art!!!!!! It's SO cute... the picture of Kaoru dressed as cinderella made me legit scream. I sent it to all my friends and showed it to my brother haha. The whole Kaoru/Cinderella headcanon is very personal to me as you can probably gather from my carriage posting. so whenever I see it I go nuts (in a good way. it not destructive).

I think it's very funny (in a good way) that you already had a special interest in princesses, esp Cinderella. For me, it's like...I can NOT look at anything Cinderella related normally anymore because I'm reminded of the carriage allegory, and yet we have Cinderella movie nights every thursday now because of me...I describe my relationship with Cinderella as "stockholm syndrome" because i legit didn't care about or really even know Cinderella before all this went down, but now she is my Worst Enemy but Best Friend and if anybody says Cinderella is mid I'm blowing up another hostage.

Also!!! Thank you so much about the fic!!! While looking back I feel like there are def things I could improve on, I do really like that fic. As somebody who's personally arospec, I have trouble writing the "feelings" of romance so I tried my best. I have other Hikakao adjacent stories I'm writing and I wanna post them here!!!

Okay, onto the questions...firstly, YES, Tamaki DOES seem like the type to love Belle. He may also enjoy Rapunzel and her whole being held captive her whole life because maybe he feels the same way with his own family situation. Haruhi strikes me as a little mermaid type, no real reason, I just get that vibe. Although Kyoya probably relates to the original fairytale of the little mermaid in some ways for sure. I actually HC Mori's favorite movie is Beauty and the Beast, so he's probably also really into Belle. As for Hani, I'm not sure...Giselle, maybe. He likes her whimsy.

Hikaru is interesting, because I feel like he's like Me in which he HATES Cinderella because he has to hear about it 24/7 but if ANYBODY said anything mean about cinderella he'd be like...you bitch...you take that BACK. Altho I have this headcanon that Hikaru's favorite princess is Alice from Alice in Wonderland (tho she really isn't a "princess") because he always liked that movie better. Kaoru would cry as a kid tho when Hikaru said he thought that movie was better so he pretended to like Cinderella more. But he doesn't. Merida tho...that's a very good choice, I can defff seeing Hikaru being a big Merida fan.

So, to the second question: it's very interesting! What stood out about that maid to Hikaru and Kaoru was the fact she was mean to them. being raised as rich and "better" than everyone else, all the maids HAD to be nice or they got fired pretty much, so to see a maid go against that status quo, to treat them honestly...that's why they liked her so much.

If anyone else had said "nobody will be able to tell you two apart", would it have hurt? sure. But it wouldn't be devastating, because they likely wouldn't care about that person's opinion. but they liked this maid, they looked up to her in a weird way. Having somebody you like and trust tell you something hurtful is way more harmful than if a stranger did it.

Now...would they be LESS twisted if it never happened? I doubt it. I mean, maybe they'd be LESS focused on looking identical, but they would still be rather cruel and mischievous, because that's how they were simply raised: they were raised being taught their actions have no consequences, because they're better than everyone else. Simple by being "Hitachiins", they had a pass to do all sorts of nasty shit to people because they were rich and powerful. Besides, canonically, their mom & dad were barely in their lives, and child neglect causes the children to act out to get attention, usually via things that would get them scolded. So, while they miiight not have been AS keen on matching had that maid never said what she did before leaving them forever, they would probably be just as mean and cruel.

To le third point: YES that is so good. Kaoru very much dissociates in my heart of hearts as well. He has days on end where he doesn't feel like he's in his own body, everything's sort of a blur, he can't remember things well...Hikaru's there for him in those moments at least.

I always saw Hikaru and Kaoru as ADHD/Autism solidarity. But bipolar is an interesting one, too. I could def see it.

Also the hairdryer thing FUCKING RELATABLE...I'd think Kaoru is "afraid" of hairdryers/thunder - just really fucking loud noises that are sudden and/or unceasing. They don't make him "cower" necessarily but like, he gets super jittery/irritated because he gets overwhelming anxiety from it. Hikaru as a kid probably didn't understand why his brother acted so strangely to certain sights/sounds/touches, and maybe at first teased him about it, but when it was clear these things actually DISTRESSED Kaoru he stopped and did everything he could to make him feel better. and if anybody makes fun of kaoru for it Hikaru beats the shit out of them.

This was super nice ;w; I love receiving long asks, asks about ouran and the twins especially. legit if you ever wanna talk about them u can send an ask or DM me you seem really nice!!

#;noxiatalks2ya #hikakao #ohshc

[yes-these-obsessions-are-healthy]

Being a thirsty Solasmancer is wild because within the canon of DA:I, Solas explicitly does not fuck, but fanon designates that not only does he fuck, but he fucks severely.

It’s really hard to stay the course and keep true to canon because canon deprived us of what literally every other romances in Origins, II, and Inquisition got. It does add to the tragic, spiritual theme of the love, but damn does it suck to remember “oh wait, canonically this could not have ever, ever happened during the events of Inquisition”. 😭

We do get that line that amounts to “I’m grim and fatalistic. That it draws you into bed with me is a nice perk”, which, if we are taking it at its strict meaning, is that he and the Inquisitor literally just share a bed and do nothing else in it, which now that I think about it, speaks to how powerful the platonic side of the relationship is. In fact, you could go even further and say that sharing your bed with Solas is a deeply intimate/meaningful gesture, because if there is one thing the man loves, it’s exploring the Fade in dreams, and he has dreamt alone for how many centuries, millennia. Sleeping together is not just ‘we are sharing a space in a manner that is reserved for those we trust and feel comfortable with”—he is also sharing one of his..dare I say, hobbies with you. The very act of sleeping together is like drinking a pint with the Iron Bull, or playing pranks with Sera. What makes it even more special than those amusements is that you are doing this with him for 6-8 hours straight, and it’s a necessary function, so yeah, it’s doubly convenient. It all lines up in such a simply splendid way.

But as I was..fandom creations that depict Solas having sex with the Inquisitor within the confines of Inquisition’s core game (or even Trespasser, I guess), is an act of terribly understandable wish fulfillment, but writing him having sex with the Inquisitor DOES change an aspect of his character, tweaks it a bit. The opportunity to “lay” with the Inquisitor while hiding his true self is one he does not take, canonically, out of principle. For a Solas to have sex with the Inquisitor, his character would have to break that link in his inscrutable moral chain. The thing about ethics, morals, people, characters, is that so much can postulated based on what line they will not cross. Clearly, Solas holds honesty in sexual relations to be important. He would not have sex with the Inquisitor under false pretenses, or more specifically, with a partner who was not fully informed on who exactly he was, because he is correct to assume that someone who had the full picture might hesitate to jump into bed with him, but that option was not able to be presented for obvious reasons. So he stamped the whole sex thing with an “N/A” and left it at that. He wasn’t going to allow a lack of information to affect the Inquisitor’s decision—he was not going to take the risk of it unfairly swaying in his favor. It would be unethical in the highest degree. The man may lie “by omission”, but he wasn’t going to let those lies deliver him the use of someone’s body like that.

#solas #fanon

[narratingvoice]

If you are still looking for a nice game to jog over to then I think you might like Baba Is You. Don't go to rimworld. Trust me. Say, no reason at all, but if you died by... Let's say exsangination as a result of a cougar attack, what would you want done for your funeral?

[[mun LOVES Baba is You. Everyone go play it if you want to feel like your brain is being extruded through a pasta maker. I have never played Rimworld.]]

Hmm, some interesting game suggestions, I will keep them in mind- wait what? That's a very specific scenario, depraced! Are you implying there might be a cougar in my vicinity right now or in the near future? Well, I have no fear of something like that. If I saw a big cat approaching, I would simply cease inhabiting a physical form. RIP to humans but I'm different. Perhaps I shall lock Stanley in the broom closet for his safety, though.

In any case, your question is not one I have put thought into, for I don't intend to ever die and am not sure if it's even possible. I don't age and I don't need food or air or anything like that, after all. However, it does bring up some intriguing ideas about the future and my legacy, so I shall humour the spirit of your request by reframing it: if I were mortal, how would I want to be remembered?

First of all, I would demand that the ceremony be held on the main stage at E3. That is the most appropriate venue to memorialize a gaming luminary such as myself. Gamers and journalists from all over the world would be able to attend - oh, but I will have to make a list of my most hated developers who are not invited. I don't want Todd Howard ruining my big event with his presence. Every attendant would receive gift copies of all Stanley Parable games and any other games I may make in the future. That way they will be able to appreciate and preserve the full body of my work.

Who will deliver the eulogy? Why, me, of course! I'll write and record it well in advance, so you all can hear my inspiring prose one last time. A final parting gift from me to the world; I imagine there won't be a dry eye in the house after it plays. Then we can also hear some words from my next of kin, whoever survives me. The Curator or Roman maybe. (I presume Stanley would die before me, reckless and accident-prone as he is. Even if he doesn't, he's not one for public speaking.) Oh, and music, there's got to be lots of music that moves the soul. I wonder if I can commission Austin Wintory to write me a funeral march... It's got to be so big and loud that it eclipses everything else happening at the conference.

I'm not religious, so I don't care if my remains are buried or cremated or whatnot. But I would like a grand and beautiful gravestone. Make it a statue of me with angel wings and a halo, looking down fondly at the viewer. In fact, put that in a bespoke mausoleum and carve the entire script of the Parable into the walls. My story and I are one and the same. Anything that commemorates one must necessarily include the other.

Wow, this is starting to sound amazing. What a shame I wouldn't be there to see any of it. Say... is it actually a requirement that one must be dead to have a funeral? Maybe I can set up a sort of test run, as it were. Invite a few friends to talk about how much they love me.

#tsp #the stanley parable #ask blog #reply #death

[gi-maeve-rose]

Dark Matters

Chapter 4: 

Shae left the food to simmer on the stovetop before joining the three men in the kitchen. Her dog and Nick seemed to be getting along perfectly, meanwhile Daryl was wandering the room, browsing her decor.

She joined Kandomere on the couch, sitting at the opposite end. Despite how great it was to see him, she couldn’t help but feel a bit of dread deep in her gut. To be fair, how they left off wasn’t the best, and she’d never planned on seeing him again. Crazy how life works, isn’t it?

“So, what happens if you find Nadia and Akila?” Shae dared to ask. She had a feeling there wouldn’t be much they could tell her, but with her work background with Kandomere, maybe he’d give just a bit.

He watched her silently, his frame unmoving but senses always on a swivel, but every one of those was focused on Shae, at the moment. Although it was easier to talk past the lump in his throat he’d felt since stepping into her place, he was still overtaken by her presence, as he always had been. When she placed herself at the opposite end of the couch, he suddenly felt the distance that had been between them for all this time- how had he gone so long without even speaking to her? He cleared his throat. “They’ll be charged and likely be imprisoned, but I can’t talk specifics if they receive harsher punishments,” he explained, meeting her eyes.

“What about the wand?”

Daryl’s body stiffened at the mention. He could say he trusted in Kandomere’s judgement enough to believe Shae wouldn’t be part of any Inferni business, but let’s be real. This man was more pessimistic than he’d ever been before, considering his newly found ability and last run in with Inferni. Daryl turned slightly, eyebrow raised as he looked between Shae and Kandomere. “What about it?”

”Wands are ancient weapons forged from the Dark Lord- only he can truly vanquish them. There has never been a method discovered that effectively destroys them, so we keep them in centers like the ones Nadia and Akila infiltrated,” Kandomere looked to Ward when he spoke. “For now, we can only keep them contained and away from the world as best as possible,” he exhaled, knowing full well how brittle of a solution that was, but it was realistically their only solution. Whatever evil may come knocking on the door, it was his job to keep that door locked.

Shae looked down at her hands, picking at her nails. As much as she hated being that person, she knew Kandomere wouldn’t come up with a plan for all possibilities. “What if it’s too late?” she asked, tone lowered.

That caught Nick’s attention, a pit of nerves forming in his gut. “What do you mean?”

”Girl, that fucking prick at the mercado was giving me a hard time again-“ The door swung open and in stepped a shorter woman with dark, straight hair to her chin and hazel eyes, paper bag full of food and booze in one arm and her sunglasses in the other, looking at each individual face.

 “Oh.” She first took notice of the two officers in uniform. When the blue haired elf caught her eye though, the match was made in her head, realization dawning on her. “Oh. I’ve interrupted something,” she winced, looking at Shae apologetically.

His brows pulled together in mild annoyance at the human’s rude entrance. “Who is this?” Kandomere pointed to her, looking to Shae.

Shae dropped her head forward as she snorted a laugh. “This is Rita,” she introduced. “I told you about Rita before.” Shae stood, helping her friend with the groceries. “Rita, you remember Kandomere. And this is Officers Daryl award and Nick Jakoby. Remember the whole wand thing a couple years back?”

Daryl quickly stepped forward. “That was all just a rumor,” he added quickly.

Shae rolled her eyes. “Please, I was MTF for years, I know this works.”

”Oh, I definitely remember Kandomere.” Rita stuck her chin up a little, keeping her big eyes on his scowl until she’d passed. “Nice to meet you,” she nodded and smiled kindly at Ward as she passed, but upon moving closer to the tuskless Orc, she let her eyes linger on his kind face, taking in the way he timidly made himself known around the room. Her heart throbbed a little. “It’s nice to meet you,” she looked at his badge. “Officer Jakoby,” she grinned, following Shae away.

Nick’s eyes followed after Rita. “Uh… I, uh…” His words were lost to him, taken aback by her sweet demeanor.

Meanwhile Kandomere looked on in exasperation. “She knows?” he implored.

She sighed roughly. “Yes, she knows,” Shae confirmed. “She was the only one there for me when shit went down.” Not just the recent events of the past few years. in all fairness, that didn’t really involve Shae at all. No, Rita was there for Shae from the very start of her Bright revelation, ten, long years ago.

Ward looked between Shae, Rita, and Kandomere. “How much does she know?”

Shae crossed her arms over her chest, looking guilty. Even though she didn’t work for them anymore, it could still mean trouble. “She knows as much as I do,” she admitted, then looked to Kandomere. “All of it.”

Rita looked on calmly, silently unpacking the paper bag and placing the assorted snacks and drinks on the counter. It was really her fault this was an issue now; she’d made the decision to come over unannounced, but this was truly the last thing she expected to find sitting in her friend’s home when all she thought would come of this day was booze, gossip and too much food.

Kandomere looked at Rita, both of their steely glares meeting. Ah, yes- I remember this one, he recalled bitterly. 

 This wasn’t how things were supposed to be done, but his plan of action to keep the wand safe had been laid out like a drunk. Rules didn’t feel so important to follow when he was desperate to resolve the danger, which meant not taking this liability in and questioning her until she broke. She’d held the delicate information all this time with no incident, so for now, he had no real reason not to trust her.

His eyes shot to Shae. I can trust her judgement, at least.

“Fine. She can stay.” He paused to point at Rita. “You speak a word of this to anyone and I will lock you away from daylight for the remainder of your life,” he threatened.

Rita held her hands up. “I already pink swore to Shae that I wouldn’t tell anyone,” she grinned sarcastically.

Daryl ran his hand over his face, doing his damnedest to keep his frustration down. “Alright, so what now?” he asked impatiently. “We just get a search party going for those two crazy ass elves?”

“And what about what Shae said?” Nick added. “What if we’re too late?”

Kandomere paused, looking at all their faces when the grim question was brought up. “If he comes back, I don’t know what we could do to stop him,” he sighed, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He knew that news would not sit well with them just as it didn’t with him, but keeping them in the dark that any efforts they made could be pointless didn’t sit right with him, either.

“But we may have a chance to prevent it from happening if you help us, Shae.” He looked to her again, his silver eyes pleading. “You two are the only Brights I have,” he realized the same moment he said it.

Rita’s brows lifted high in surprise, glancing at Shae as she poured them drinks. Too late? she thought to herself, her anxiety stirring under her calm exterior.

Shae nodded gently. “In my experience since knowing I was a Bright, I can feel some kind of... force, I guess, when Magic is used.” She glanced over to Daryl. “That’s how I know the Wand being a rumor was bullshit.”

Nick perked up considerably. “So, you have some kind of sixth sense?” Despite the absolute trauma and horror experienced in just one night with Leilah, he just couldn’t bring himself to think that Magic was anything but cool.

A humble shrug. “Something like that,” Shae confirmed.

”That exact sense of yours can help us locate where they might be collecting, but I’m sure they’re anticipating that. We’d have to be clever about this, if you’re willing to help us.”

Rita grinned when noticing Nick pipe up, sipping her drink and leaned against the counter. “What’s in it for Shae, though?” she asked, looking head on at Kandomere.

”That’s none of your business,” he replied coldly. It baffled him to think he wouldn’t compensate her for the tremendous danger ahead, but how selfish would he sound if he admitted a larger part of him wanted her to help just so he didn’t feel so alone in this matter? MTF never looked good from the outside, he realized that, but having someone he was once close with know the struggles from the inside eased some of the qualms in his heart.

Shae held up her hands, shaking her head. “I don’t need anything,” she assured. “I’m doing just fine.” 

 Define fine. Shae had gone from living in an Elf Town penthouse, working as a well-known, well-respected Magic Task Force agent and partnered with the only elf to ever catch her fancy, to working as a bartender and den mother at a local strip club.

Sure, she was doing fine, but it wasn’t what she expected for herself.

”Don’t be so humble, Shae,” Rita whispered under her breath at her friend, checking to make sure no one had heard her.

He rolled his eyes. Humans really are naive. “She’s right, you have every right to name your price,” Kandomere stubbornly agreed, annoyed that once again he’d been interrupted before he could say the same thing. “But you’ll help us?” he asked again. Please, please, please, Shae.

She didn’t hesitate to nod. “Of course, I will.”

All of this felt wrong to Daryl. This girl just happened to know the two elves that stole the wand, and she had no affiliation with them in this? It was too convenient, too easy.

Kandomere concealed his sigh of relief but felt it wash over him. “Thank you, Shae. And I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to be barging in like this,” he apologized, glancing down to adjust the sleeve of his coat. There was no denying he felt peace just being in her presence, that already he felt like this impossible mission of theirs might actually be possible.

“Honestly, it’s not a big deal,” Shae insisted, waving a hand dismissively. She glanced over toward the stove, doing a double take as she remembered the food was still simmering. “Ready to eat?” she asked, turning off the stovetop flames.

Nick sauntered over to the kitchen. “It smells great,” he complimented. “Need help setting the table?”

Shae smiled brightly. “I would appreciate that.”

Kandomere watched Shae, observing as she smiled and spoke to the Orc… He should’ve been the one to stand and offer help. Fool, you’re just sitting here, he belittled himself, crossing his legs in annoyance, tugging the end to his coat again. God forsaken fool.

Rita looked over her shoulder when Nick approached, slyly watching him from the corner of her eye when she leaned on the counter opposite to stand beside Shae. For a big thing like him he was awfully agile. 

 “When did he come back?” she whispered to Shae, her mouth hidden behind her cup as she silently observed the men around them. “Did he even call?!” she hissed a little heatedly, looking at her with curious eyes.

Shae sighed softly, shaking her head as she loaded up the plates with food. “Him and the officers came this morning to question me,” she told her friend. “Remember those girls I told you about? The ones I went to college with?” She felt uneasy, but continued when Rita nodded. “Apparently, they went Inferni,” she said bitterly. “When they’d asked me for help with a recent project, I’m guessing it was to help steal back the Wand from MTF archives.”

Her eyes grew wide. “Are you serious!?” Rita hissed, pausing as she came to better understand the gravity of the situation she’d stumbled into, and looked at Shae in wonder. How did she so willingly agree to help them? Without any hesitation? 

 “Are you sure you wanna get involved in this?” she asked Shae, taking a half step closer.

Kandomere couldn’t hear over the clattering of the plates being filled or the Orc setting the table, but the way her friend would glance back put him on edge, in addition fueling the urge to get up and try to walk over as nonchalantly as possible and place himself at the table to better hear, but every move he made felt stiff, and too thought out.

Shae paused when serving up the last plate, an almost far off stare in her eyes. “I know how this looks, Rita. I know it’s suspicious. Hell, Officer Ward has been giving me dirty looks all night.” A soft smile graced her features. “But, if I’m being honest, I missed doing this kind of work. I was a damn good agent. Things just couldn’t work. But just because I’m a Bright doesn’t mean I agree with any of this ‘raising the Dark Lord’ crap that the Inferni got in their heads.” She glanced back toward Kandomere at the table. “I want that as much as I wanted to never see him again,” she inadvertently thought out loud.

The moment her eyes met his he didn’t want her to pull away. There’s so much I want to talk to you about, he wanted to tell her. But now, was not that day. With her helping though, maybe it could come soon.

Rita nodded, understanding the longing she spoke of now the same way she did when she’d recall it other times, but also deeply understood the complexity of having Kandomere involved, and the emotions that must’ve come with it. “As long as you’re sure, I trust your judgement. I just want you to be okay.” She bumped her elbow against Shae’s.

The soft bump brought Shae back to reality. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about Kandomere often, especially now that he was back in her life. There was so much to tell him. Not now, she thought to herself, opting to smile instead as she brought plates to the table.

He stood with a low grunt, fixing his coat before approaching the table to find a seat. He watched the others move around, picking a chair to pull out as she placed the plates down. “So, how have things been?” Kandomere asked her, desperate to hear if she’d been as plagued with loneliness as he, but also hopeful to hear that she was thriving.

Rita came to meet Shae at the counter before the last two plates were delivered, gently stopping her hand. “Let me take these ones, yeah?” she whispered with a coy smile, gesturing over towards the Orc cop with mischief in her big eyes.

“They’ve been,” Shae answered Kandomere, just barely catching her friend’s subliminal message. Christ alive, Rita was into the orc. She chuckled quietly to herself, watching her friend take the plates and go make a move on Nick. “Titty bar down the way is picking up traction, so the money’s good. It’s been amazing nannying the neighborhood kids and watching them grow up. Honestly, it makes me want one of my own.”

Kandomere’s brows jumped in surprise at the mention of her wanting children, but did it really surprise him, being the way she was with everyone? Of course she would be a good mother. “That’s good, I’m glad to hear you’re doing well.” He gave her a small grin. “You haven’t had any trouble living here?”

Shae scrunched her nose. “Well, not anymore, at least.” She kept it very vague, not wanting to set off any alarms with anyone. “Everyone has been lovely nowadays.”

He twisted his utensil in his food, catching that small little detail. “’Anymore’?” he repeated in question, looking at her. His fist rested at the tables surface, clenched. What kind of harassment had she endured? The mere thought she had endured any at all was enough to anger him.

“It’s nothing. Everything’s fine now.”

Even more like Shae... No one was allowed to worry about her. She always believed there were bigger fish to fry, putting whatever she was going through on the bottom of everyone’s list. Kandomere nodded, looking down at his plate to take a bite. “it’s very good,” he grinned at her around his mouthful.

She hummed with a soft smile. “I remember how you like it.”

Kandomere smiled, a little bashfully. Nothing really had changed about her, had it? The kindness was still warm on her, the peace she emitted calming the wildest of his nerves that had been ringing since this all started. He wished he could stay in this bubble, without any of the dangerous obligations he’d have to return to.

Bu the more the two spoke, the more Daryl realized what their history was or might’ve been. And the more he realized that, the more he was uncomfortable with the situation. All of this could end very poorly for everyone.

Daryl approached Kandomere in the living after they’d all eaten, using the opportunity of Shae busying herself with cleanup and Nick speaking with Rita outside to voice his concerns. “You sure this is a good idea, man?” he questioned, eyes on Shae, voice low so she couldn’t hear him. “None of this seems any kind of wrong to you?”

The agent looked to the officer, turning slowly so his back was to Shae and pretending to be observing the room around them. “None of this feels right, but we don’t have the time to do this by the rules. She’s strong, she’s trustworthy, and you two together are our best shot against the Inferni,” he replied quietly, glancing over his shoulder to make sure their conversation had not been detected.

“How do we know she’s not part of that shit?” Daryl challenged. “Just take her word for it? You haven’t seen this girl in years, you don’t know what could’ve changed.” He wasn’t wrong. That could be a possibility, but then again, it just didn’t make any sense.

“Why would an elf that was Inferni willingly live in an orc neighborhood such as this? For cover? Inferni don’t do that, Officer. They do their business in broad daylight, I’m sure you remember,” Kandomere noted, looking at him critically.

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah, well, maybe after getting their asses handed to them by an orc and a human, they started taking some precautions.”

“There’s no denying that,” Kandomre half grinned. “But I truly think we’ll only benefit from having her on our side. She’s well versed in my side of the line and is- was an excellent agent.” It was almost painful to have to correct himself like that. “She also has insight you might find helpful.”

“Hey, hey, you got a lot of nerve thinking I’m gonna be doing any Magic shit,” he said lowly, holding a warning finger up to Kandomere. “I’m doing my job as a police officer. She can keep that Magic shit to herself, alright? I’m good.”

The small pool illuminated the dark damp room, surrounded by Inferni men and women, a low, harmonic chant echoing through. The light pulsed as their Magic grew stronger, their power coming together for one sole purpose. A form of water lifted from the pool, moulding and meshing into a humanoid form. Chants became louder, Magic became stronger. The water became solid, a body of a man forming inside before the water dripped off. Red, dark eyes opened. He was here. He was risen.

It was hard to not hear the conversation. They seemed to forget that elves have heightened senses, but she wasn’t going to make a scene of it. It sucked that Daryl didn’t trust her, but she didn’t blame him. She did, however, find solace that, even after all these years, Kandomere still trusted her. Shae’s thoughts were intruded by a sharp sting of something electric coursing through her body. She gasped sharply, falling to her knees and dropping dishes, shattering.

Just as he was about to respond to Ward’s dismissal, the sudden crashing of plates snapped his head in Shae’s direction, finding her on her knees in the kitchen. Panic flooded him, and he was at her side quicker than the flap of a hummingbird’s wing. “Shae!? Are you alright!?” he asked, mindful of the shattered plates but kneeling down before her to hold her shoulders.

She wasn’t the type to scare easily. Unsettle, maybe, but she was never known to fear anything. 

But the look in her eyes as they met Kandomere’s, the way her body trembled. Full of terror. She knew this feeling on a much smaller scale, but this? This was big. 

It was him.

It took a moment for Daryl to realize. “Shit...” he hissed, speeding toward the door for Nick.

Kandomere needn’t ask to know this look in her eye, and the chills it sent down his body were enough to make him want to run and not look back, but this was his disaster to handle. “He’s back, isn’t he?” he whispered, as if uttering the words would summon him to that very spot.

Tears filled her eyes, but she wouldn’t let them fall. Now was not the time to cry. She nodded, gripping his sleeves as she tried to stand shakily. “And he’s close.”

”Can you tell which direction he’s in?” he asked as he helped her stand, adrenaline rising in his veins and pulling his phone out, ready to make the call to Montehugh.

“I have no idea,” she said regrettably. “But I can feel his power.” Her arms wrapped around herself, finding whatever comfort she possibly could. “This is bad, Kandomere… We thought Leilah was a hard one when we were working on that case, but we’ve never encountered anything like this.”

He swallowed. Fuck, how had they succeeded so fast!? He’d been a fool to think they had time, and now realized he’d mishandled the time that was now up. “I need to make a call.” He withdrew his hand from Shae’s shoulder, lingering at her eyes before stepping away and dialing Montehugh.

Rita stormed in with Nick, their moment of content flipping on its head when Daryl summoned them.  ”What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked, taking Kandomere’s place at Shae’s side. She tried to read her, but that look on her face… she’d never seen that one before. “What happened?”

“They did it,” Nick answered before Shae could. “He’s back.”

Shae was lost in her own mind, everything else around her hardly comprehensible. She watched Kandomere walk away, eyes lingering. Why did it have to be like this? Everything that happened to date was just one big spiral that didn’t seem to have a bottom and nothing to grab onto. She’d already agreed to help, but now that it was all happening, she didn’t know what to do.

Kandomere stepped onto the balcony where Officer Jakoby and Callie once sat, a hand on his chest and struggling to even the panicked breaths he didn’t want the others to see. He pressed the phone to his ear and waited only briefly before Montehugh picked up, answering with a casual, “What’s up, boss?” 

“I need all warehouses and abandoned structures within a 10 mile radius of my location swept for the Wand and any activity from Inferni,” he snapped, his eyes roaming the horizon of East LA.

He paused. “Y-you got it… what’s going on?” he asked hesitantly, but the tone of Kandomere’s voice only brought a great sense of dread.

He almost laughed. How do you deliver news that the entirety of the city- of the fucking world was under a catastrophic threat? How do you even comprehend that?! “We we’re too late, Ulysses,” he spoke forlornly, pulling his hand down his face. “They brought him back.”

Silence took the place of any words, because silence was all that occupied his mind. It wasn’t just that this was the worst case scenario, it was that all the hard work they’d done to prevent this had all been for nothing. It honestly left him kind of pissed off. “I’ll uh, I’ll get to those sweeps right now, Boss, he replied, ending the call.

Daryl huffed, staring daggers at Shae. “What a coincidence, right?” And he left it at that, leaving the apartment and going back to the car, ringing his wife on his cellphone.

Nick watched Daryl go, frustration building toward his partner’s attitude. “He doesn’t mean it, Shae,” he assured. “All of this Magic stuff has him on edge.”

Rita turned and scoffed in disgust at Ward’s sour words and sudden exit. “What an ass!” she yelled at his departure, looking back at Shae with brows arched in anger. “Don’t listen to that nonsense.”

She could only shake her head. Again, Shae didn’t blame Ward for his attitude toward her. Honestly it was expected, but she had bigger things to worry about. “I need a minute,” she croaked, breaking away from the two mindlessly walking off toward the bathroom down the hall.

Kandomere looked down at the phone after Montehugh ended the call, his hand dropping to his side and face lifting to take in a little of the sunshine warming his pale cheeks. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He needed moments of silence like this to retreat to when shit would eventually hit the fan. He turned to step inside, following Shae with his eyes when she exited the room.

Nick grumbled under his breath, rubbing a hand over his forehead before turning to Kandomere. “What now, boss?”

He stopped beside Jakoby. “For now, we wait to see what Montehugh’s sweep turns up. We don’t know where to start until we have something to go off of,” he explained, again looking in the direction Shae left, but then looking to the front door. “He left?” He asked Nick, his blue brows furrowing.

“Unless he’s walking home, no. Just stepped out.” He shook his head. “He’s not a fan of this. His cooperation with Shae is going to be rocky.”

”He has no choice but to cooperate.” Kandomere said through tight teeth, leaving Nick with a cold glare before following the direction Shae left in, and down the hall. 

 He quietly approached the only door that was closed in the hall, pausing before gently tapping his knuckles against the door. “Shae? Are you alright?” He called to her softly.

She was hunched over the sink, her head in her hands. You’d think her years of MTF training would’ve prepared her for this. Then again, it had been years longer that she was away from said job. “Yeah,” she called back, voice rough. “Yeah, I’m good.” 

 Ynshael… Shae jumped at the whispering voice, looking around the bathroom as if someone else was there. No one else was.

”Are you sure?” he asked, shifting to the other side of the door frame. “Listen... I know it’s been too long since we’ve spoke, but I’m still here for you if you need me. To talk, I mean.” Kandomere spoke sincerely, wanting nothing more to see her face when he told her, but the door remained shut. “Shae?”

She pressed her hands to her temples, taking deep breaths to calm herself. First the Inferni, now she’s hearing voices? Fuck this shit. Deep down, she regretted offering her help, but there was no going back. 

 Once she’d shaken the impending dread, Shae cleaned herself up a bit before heading toward the door. “I’m okay, I just-“ She gasped again as she opened the door, not expecting Kandomere to be so close. Her smaller body bumped into his, her hands grabbing his arms to regain stability. “Ay, Dios mío,” she breathed in a startled tone.

With a loud exhale, Rita reached for the bottle she’d brought with, pouring the cold drink to the brim of her glass. She felt like she should’ve called family to check up on them, but the lack of volcanos erupting and the ground not splitting beneath their feet gave her some reassurance that disaster hadn’t come so abruptly. “Want one?” She asked Nick, tilting her cup in his direction and her smile knocked down a few amps.

He shook his head, holding up his hands. “No, thank you. I don’t drink on the job.” Oh, sweet summer child.

She giggled. “Doesn’t seem to matter much at this point, but suit yourself, Officer,” she toasted at him with a grin, taking a few hearty sips of the drink. I’m not leaving this world sober if I can help it.

Nick chuckled softly at Rita’s banter, doing a double take toward the hall.

Kandomere hadn’t expected her to walk right into him, but that’s what he got for staring so intensely at the grain of the door while waiting for her. He grunted when she made impact, his hands flying up to hold under her elbows and look down at her. He blinked a few times; she was so close. He cleared his throat. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said low, soothingly.

A soft blush dusted her cheeks when she realized how close they were. Not even when working together did they ever find themselves in each other’s arms like this, no matter how often she’d thought about it. “It’s… It’s okay, I, uh…” Her words trailed off as she looked up at him, eyes meeting. Christ alive, she’d forgotten how beautiful this man was. His sleek blue hair, the sharp cut of his jawline and cheekbones, the piercing stare that could intimidate the worst of criminals, but so comforting to Shae. She lost herself in him.

Rita furrowed her brows at the commotion from the hall, throwing back the last of her drink and burping lowly, her eyes narrowing. Are they…?  She extended her neck in her struggle to listen to their low conversation in the hall, barely landing the booze in her cup as she poured another.

Kandomere was lost in her gaze, his climbing heart rate quickening his breaths, soaking in this intimate moment with her. His bones ached from her absence... How had he gone so long without taking in her beauty? His hand raised to push back a lock of hair against her cheek, swallowing when his fingertip grazed her warm skin. He just… couldn’t pull away.

The chance was right there. All she had to do was stand on her toes and their lips would lock. It was right there. Instead, she cleared her throat, taking a step back. “I’ll, uh…” She pointed to her bed room. “I’m going to get dressed. Then we can go… do things, or… whatever we need to do.”

Kandomere nodded, taking a step back to allow her passage. “We uh, I have men sweeping the area, so right now we’ll just be waiting to see if they find anything, but we can do that elsewhere,” he told her, blinking clarity back to his vision. “I don’t want to impose.” He exited the hall to leave her to change, walking through the kitchen and living room to the front door with his eyes downcast. He wanted to stop this ridiculous flutter in his gut when he thought of her joining them; now was not the time for these long dormant sensations, or the excitement when thinking of working side by side with her again.

His own hearing was good enough to hear the full conversation. “Maybe Shae should come with us,” Nick proposed. “If they reached out to her once, they may try to do it again. And I don’t think they’ll take no for an answer this time.”

He easily picked up Nick’s voice. “I’m sure you heard him,” Kandomere told her. “And he’s right,” he added. “If they decide to make another proposal in person this time. It’s best you’re not here alone.”

Rita’s brows furrowed, looking at Nick when he spoke. “Huh?” she asked, the conversation going on in the hall only muted murmurs to her human ears.

Nick nodded, turning to Rita. “We’re gonna take Shae with us,” he explained. “A busier neighborhood, somewhere we can keep closer eyes on her with more security.”

She threw back the rest of her drink, an eye pinched shut and her throat burning, a few little coughs following. “I suppose that’s my cue to get going,” she sighed light-heartedly, moving her hair off her shoulder. “Good thing I didn’t drive,” she giggled, gathering her purse and sunglasses that were sat on the counter beside her.

Nick took a bold step forward. “Why don’t you let us take you?” he offered. “It’s getting dark. You shouldn’t be walking alone.”

Inwardly, Rita’d hoped he’d offer a ride, and secretly, she was pretty stoked she had a few extra minutes worth of that ride with the cute cop she for some reason couldn’t stop herself from getting a little flustered over when his golden eyes fell on her. “Sure!” she piped, slipping her purse onto her shoulder a little wobbly.

His ears twitched as he smiled with a nod, walking over and propping his elbow out for her to take.

“Oh, que caballero,” Rita purred, her hand sliding into the crook of his elbow, slyly squeezing the muscle of his bicep.

He had no clue what she said, but he likes how it sounded. He lead her out to the car waiting in the parking lot.

Kandomere’s frown was of mild disgust watching Callie openly flirt with the Orc, his silver eyes rolling and crossing his arms over his chest as he continued to wait, staring at the entrance to the hall. He was impatient, but for what? To get going, or just be by her side and work again?

Shae took a while in her bedroom, getting dressed to properly go outside and packing a bag or two. Her mind reeled at the moment she shared with Kandomere. It was exactly what she’d always wanted, but why did it fill her with anxiety? She tried to push past the thoughts as best she could, slipping the bags on her shoulders and heading out of the room. She dawned a pair of ripped jeans and the same shirt, now covered by a leather jacket.

He looked to the hall again when he heard her steps. He repressed how widely he really wanted to smile. She looked good. “Let me help with those,” Kandomere approached, offering a hand for one.

A soft smile as she slipped one bag off her shoulder. “If they could both go in your car, I’d appreciate that,” she requested. “I actually have my own ride I’d like to take, if that’s okay.”

He eyed her curiously as he reached for her other bag, interested in what means of transportation she had. “Sure. And what about um… Titan?” he asked, looking down at the Corso.

She looked back at Titan who wagged his tail happily, then back to Kandomere, scrunching her nose with an apologetic smile. “Back seat?”

He looked down at the kind eyed beast, nodding stiffly after sharing a few quiet moments with the dog. “I hope he doesn’t puke in cars,” he mumbled, stretching an arm out to let the dog smell his hand.

Shae smiled wide as she watched Titan take to Kandomere so quickly, bumping his nose under his hand for head pats. “Just make sure he has a window seat. He’s a good dog, very smart.” She grabbed her keys from the hook by the door. “I’ll meet you out front,” she called back as she took off for her vehicle.

He nodded, turning towards the door with Titan and the bags in tow. “Now your mother has set high standards for you and that’s what I expect, good boy,” he spoke to the dog, opening the front door. “Please, stay close to us on the road… whatever method you’re taking,” he told Shae before stepping into the hall. He looked up and down; they must be at the cars already.

Nick helped Rita into the back seat, scooting in next to her, as Daryl already took the front passenger. Daryl looked back at the two, then forward toward Kandomere as he brought down bags and the dog. “Where’s Cortez?” he asked.

Kandomere walked beside the trunk of his car and pressed the button, the hatch popping up. “She said she’d ride separately,” he told him, moving to the side to let the dog in the car. “Good thing too, there’s no space left,” he grunted.

”Titan! Ven, ven hermoso!” Rita called cheerily, patting her lap to get the dog to jump in. “You like dogs, right?” she asked Nick.

He smiled wide. “I love them!” He joined Rita in giving Titan all the attention he deserved. 

Daryl grunted in response, looking back out the window. He did a double take when a sleek, red Kawasaki motorcycle pulled toward them. “You gotta be kidding me,” he grumbled.

Shae pulled up next to the car, lifting up the visor on her helmet so her face was visible to Kandomere. “I’ll have somewhere to park this, right? Wherever you’re taking me?”

He looked out, slack jawed and staring at the rocket between her legs. “Yeah, yeah there’s parking,” he nodded, his line of sight bouncing up and down between her and the bike. “I have to take your friend home first though,” he gestured to the back seats and the fools ogling the dog.

She nodded understandingly. “No worries, as long as she knows where I’ll be staying.”

He nodded, turning the engine over to the sleek car and pulling onto the street. He looked in his rear view mirror, pressing the button for Titan’s window to lower so he could stick his head out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Art by: @margaritamamaaa

Send an ask/reblog to be on the taglist

Taglist (open):

@morphituu @faeylinn @nheirei

~~~~~~~~~~

I only post to Tumblr and AO3! Please do not repost my chapters to any other website unless i give you my written and explicit permission!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Bright or any of the characters except for my OCs!

#bright #bright 2017 #kandomere #nick jakoby #daryl ward #magic #magic wand #elf #elves #orc #orcs #the dark lord #lapd #los angeles #los angeles police department #la #fluff #smut #angst #action #adventure #romance #ocs #fanfic #fanfiction

[firesoulstuff]

So, like, 'Stuck on top of a Ferris wheel / werewolf' keeps making me laugh every time I read it and I was wondering if a pre-relationship Leonard and Sara could be the ones stuck on that Ferris Wheel?

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544165/chapters/97508895

Werewolves.

Why did it have to be werewolves?

Actually, to be specific, how is it werewolves?

The mutant hawks were bad enough, but come on, werewolves?

Leonard hears a distressing whine from his gun as he blasts back another assailant. “Running out of charge here!” He calls over his shoulder, Sara just barely managing to spare him a glance as she kicks another wolf back.

He starts to look around with every spare fleeting second that he has, looking for safety. They’re at a fairground, most of which has already been destroyed by the aforementioned pack of werewolves, and thus there are very few places left to run. All around them game booths are torn apart, the Tilt-A-Whirl has wolves crawling out of the carts like caves, there is cheap stuffing from ripped up prizes everywhere-

“How are you at climbing?”

He looks over his shoulder to see Sara is looking up at the Ferris Wheel. It’s one of the few structures at that hasn’t been overtaken or destroyed in the fight; too big.

He nods, climbing may not be his preference, but he can manage.

Climbing for Sara on the other hand, it is definitely more her comfort zone.

Watching her scale the Ferris Wheel is like watching a machine flawlessly doing exactly what it was built to do. She jumps the threshold from the ride’s main entrance point to the lowest bench with ease, and from there she leaps up the benches. He’s seen her move like this before, on the salmon latter in the training room, but seeing it in the field is something else. It’s like watching a plan come together; a beautiful harmony of practice and execution.

There’s a snarl behind him that reminds him he needs to move his ass.

He hurries to the Ferris Wheel, using whatever power he has left in the cold gun on his way. He isn’t nearly as graceful as Sara when scaling the ride, and he goes for its inner support system rather than the benches. He maneuvers up the beams and cables until he’s to the top, where Sara is perched in the highest bench and bent down, her arm outstretched to give him a hand.

He accepts it, she hauls him up, and finally they can both breathe.

It’s a nice reprieve, but as he catches his breath the situation starts to really hit him.

“We can’t run from here.”

He isn’t too worried, because he trusts her. She wouldn’t put a plan into action with such an obvious flaw unless she already had a solution figured out.

“Nate and Zari made it back. They’re not far with the antidote.” She explains, tapping her ear, reminding him that she still has a comm, while he lost his in the fight. “We just need to wait them out.”

He nods, and the snarls and barking below are still there, but he isn’t worried about the wolves finding them. Even if they can smell them all the way up here, they shouldn’t be able to reach them. So he looks out ahead, at the starry night sky, and next to him at Sara, catching her breath.

“So werewolves are par for the course now?”

She laughs, “I guess.” She says, “You tell me, you’re the one who came out of that magic prison.”

Ah yes, so they keep reminding him.

“I’ll let you know if I remember anything, but so far I don’t and neither does Charlie.”

Sara nods, her mouth set in a line, her gaze distant.

It’s only been a few weeks that he’s been back with the team. They tell him he was in some kind of prison dimension that they’ve recently opened, but he doesn’t remember any of it. One minute he was holding down The Oculus, telling Druce to go screw himself, then there was a bright light, and the next thing he knew he was waking up during the height of the Salem Witch Trials.

The newest member of the team, Charlie, was supposedly imprisoned with him. She doesn’t remember much more than he does; says that dimension is all suspended animation. That the only time you wake up is if someone in the mortal world manages to summon you or something like that. After that you’re awake in a place you would rather not be.

He wonders how she came to know that. He has his suspicions that she must remember more than what she lets on. The question is why would someone summon a shapeshifter?

“I’m glad you’re back.”

He’s yanked from his thoughts, attention brought back to Sara who is now looking out ahead at the night sky.

They… They haven’t talked, since he’s come back. Not really. It’s been busy. They had a chance, briefly, a few weeks ago during the mission to that summer camp, but then she and that Time Bureau girl went undercover as kids, and he couldn’t very well talk with her about it then. Plus she was… She had another focus that mission. Sort of. Ava. He hasn’t seen much of her recently, not since the Mexican wrestlers. He still isn’t sure what happened in that meeting, nor does he know what happened last week when she was in danger. All he knows is Sara came back to the Waverider saying she spent the day in hell and didn’t elaborate.

“What was going on between you and Ava?”

He has to ask; he has to know. He can’t… The Oculus may feel like it was just a few months ago to him, but he knows it wasn’t. It was three years ago. If she’s moved on…

Sigh. If she’s moved on, he is going to have a hell of a time doing the same.

“I don’t know.” She answers, her voice soft and her eyes still fixed out ahead. “I guess… We were a thing, at one point. I don’t know. I guess you could say we were dating, definitely felt like a break up when I went to her office.”

Ouch.

“What about last week?” He gently prods, and she folds her arms in on herself. She’s almost squirming, and he has half a mind to tell her she doesn’t need to answer that.

“Neron had her.” She softly mutters, even though he knows that much. “He had her trapped in her own personal purgatory. I went and got her out.”

He nods, a lump forming in his throat, and tears threatening to prick at his eyes as he realizes that he’s right; he’s too late. It’s been too long, she’s moved on.

“You must really love her.”

She shrugs.

“That’s the thing.” She says, and finally she looks at him, and God he thought tears were pricking at his eyes but hers, he can see her eyes shining in the moonlight; thick tears built up and seconds away from slipping free. “For her it was purgatory, for me it was hell.”

He blinks, swallows, and she wipes at her eyes and her breath hitches with a sob.

“I… I do care about her. But that place pointed out everything about our relationship that would never work.”

He sighs, “Well, if it was purgatory, pretty sure that was the point.”

“It was some pretty big stuff.” She says, shutting him down right then and there for any more attempts to talk her into thinking more about it. Clearly she has thought about it, and she’s made up her mind.

“So… you guys ran your course?” He asks, because he needs to be sure, before he dares to hope any further.

Sara nods.

“I think so.” She says with a sigh, wiping at her eyes again. “We’re on decent terms, I think, decent as we can be at least.”

He nods, he can’t imagine going through whatever she went through in that purgatory. Trying to save someone you love, only to realize along the way that loving them isn’t going to be enough.

There’s a blip of light in the distance, out ahead; The Waverider. They’ll be out of here soon.

He looks back to Sara, and she’s watching the incoming ship too. He can see her slipping back into Captain mode; he needs to act fast.

“When we get back,” he ventures, licking his lips. “How ‘bout a drink?”

She smirks, eyes still out ahead and arms still crossed, but her smile is genuine.

“Only if you bring your cards.”

#captain canary #fic prompt

[tangiblejournal56]

10/09/11

Who the fuck was I kidding?  Someone liking me.  Yeah, like that’s reasonable.  As if that’s in the realm of fucking possibility.  Another set up, another giant let down.  Why do I ever let myself feed the delusion that someone may just find my particular odd self attractive, for more than just the thrill of, say, fucking a coworker, in this specific incident.  When will I learn to never trust anything good that heads my way, how it will only be followed by disappointment & defeat.  How can I possibly be this thick-headed, never to learn from my mistakes?  I can’t do this anymore, I really can’t.  Not when this is the inevitable outcome, a guy wanting to spend time with me, only wanting to screw me, then he’s satisfied his curiosity, then he peaces out.  I can’t even hate him, he’s not a bad guy, he’s straightforward & blunt & honest, even in this.  I don’t know if it was that the sex was so good, or that for awhile it was easy to believe he actually enjoyed my company, all of those goddamn kisses & touches & fucking smiles.  Kissing someone when I hadn’t kissed anyone in so fucking long, what an irresponsible, dangerous move.  Worse even than letting him come inside me, as at least I can deal with any physical problems of my body; not so with mental blows.

I liked him.  I can’t believe I let myself fucking like him so much.  After everything I should’ve learned by now.  Ryan should’ve been my infinite caution sign against any such foolishness.  Never deal with southern boys, especially the ones that seem so intriguing, so handsome, so interested in me.  I couldn’t even have this.  This nice feeling.  It couldn’t have even been allowed for a whole week.  New fucking record, well done.  This pit of self-loathing has never been quite so deep, so sharp.  Over a boy I hardly know.  But he is just an abstract, a catalyst.  A reminder.  Don’t trust anything good to come your way.  He hasn’t even straight-out rejected me yet, but I can read the terrain, I see what’s coming.  I’ve experienced this so often, if I can read the signs then why can I not just remember to avoid the whole business of falling for anyone?  Have I made it my life’s goal to set out after the ever-unattainable, just so I can suffer defeat after defeat, so that I can be miserable?  I’d thought I’d surpassed that phase, grown out of wanting to be miserable, depressed.  I don’t want to be unhappy anymore.  I just want a good fucking day, a day without trap doors & red herrings.  A day I can trust.  A chance to breathe.  Not every fucking day sending me spinning in a fit of pain, reeling from the force of the strike.  I’m tired of creating beauty out of my pain.  I just wanted this one small thing.  This small joy, to keep me from going off on everyone around me.  Something to make the suffering bearable, at least until I can leave this awful place.  Too much to ask.

The universe forces me to be alone.  And so I will live as it dictates.  I know I said that even if the one day of sex & enjoyment was all that would come out of this, I would be satisfied.  I lied.  I guess I was at least allotted more than I honestly expected, we spend our lunch break two days later at his apartment in his bed, fucking, then sleeping, then fucking once more before returning to work.

Why did the sex have to be so good?  Like another cruelty, giving me something so damn enjoyable for such a short period of time, before pulling the rug swiftly out from beneath me.  I feel cold, incapacitated.  Why is that still such a shock?  Why do I get this nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach even just anticipating his next text message?  I can’t even figure him out, he always seems so ungraspable, I think he will say or do one thing & he quickly does the opposite.  This was something I wanted time to figure out, to untangle.  It bothered me that he felt I was so predictable, like he’d already read the book of me.  I wanted to show him the extent to which he doesn’t know me at all.  I allowed him to see a side of me even Max isn’t necessarily privy to, myself as being without inhibition.  The Ryan effect.  It would seem I only allow this for these deceptive southern disappointments.  Why is this the effect they have upon me?  Why can I not grow an immunity for this particular disease?  I need to leave, avoid this city like the plague.  Ignore it as it so ignores me.  Watch it fade away in a rear-view mirror.  All of its bad & bittersweet memories, experiences I never want again.

I can’t bear to be alone.  Yet no one will have me.  Where does this leave me?  I am not noble, able to suffer my pain with such grace as Max, unable to lean on numbing agents like alcohol or drugs.  Even through those hazy states the pain is still so sharp, the universe’s total & unbending rejection of me.  How I must suffer through this war with no army at my back.  No winds to catch my sails.  Why can I not reconcile myself to loneliness?  I’ve had enough practice with it.  I am not brave.  I can neither do myself in, nor can I accept this solitude.  Where does that leave me?  Eternally miserable, sobbing nightly to exhaust myself enough to pass out, only to dream of what it might feel like to be loved.  Again, waking to disappointment, to pain so acute I feel it in my chest, in my legs, every limb & organ & capillary.  If this is bottom, where is the relief that things cannot get much worse?  There is always worse.  It seems like it never ends.  I can’t do it.  I can’t do it.  I cannot keep the strings of sanity in my hand anymore, they are struggling to escape.  I can feel it coming, the day I just let go, when I no longer have that small voice inside of my head reminding me of why I need to hang on.  For what is the point?  My existence means very little to anyone besides my mother.  She would suffer, yes, & I would hate to be the cause of that.  But I can feel that one day she will not be enough to keep me from saying fuck all & diving headfirst into my head entirely, barring anyone from entering.  Eve Max will not be able to bring me back.  It would be for the best in his case, he will be allowed to live his life fully without worrying about me & my problems anymore.  I am everyone’s burden.  I am no one’s joy.  There is nowhere I fit among this world.

Why no relief?  Has what I’ve done in my life been so completely unforgivable?  I see others committing acts of far greater evil & still they aren’t punished, aren’t alone.  I try not to let this get to me, & yet I end up in this exact position, again & again, wondering why I cannot catch a break.  I try to go out & create my own breaks, opportunities, as I have done with the Italian, & yet this is still the outcome.  No matter what I do, which way I turn, everything seems to explode in my face.  Even Luke I cannot interest, I have no friends to make here, no one I can talk to or trust.  I have Racha but she cannot cure me of this loneliness.

When will this end?

When I end myself, I suppose.