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#go me I remembered to post it here for once!
melbatron5000 · 2 days
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The Big Damn Kiss
Buckle up, my fellow Good Omens Ineffable Mystery Puzzlers, Crackpotters, and Assorted Brainrotters, because I learned something HUGE yesterday.
This will be a bit of a long post, because I want to show you exactly how I got where I am. I want you to understand. I want to put all the naysayers to bed (ha! But I'm still gonna try), and settle this once and for all.
I know (almost) exactly what Crowley gave to Aziraphale during the kiss.
DO NOT TAKE ANY OF MY THEORIES TO NEIL! PLEASE!
Okay? Okay. Thanks. Shall we begin?
Ahem.
Firstly, whether you believe me or not, I am 100% certain that Crowley did, indeed, give something to Aziraphale in his mouth during The Kiss. I've covered that in the link previous. Okay? Okay.
I did not know what it was. I've now heard theories that it was a bullet (nope), a ball bearing (nope), hellfire (nope), and no one, NO ONE has suggested what I see. (If you have, hello! Talk to me!)
Here's our first foreshadowing Clue:
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And here's our next foreshadowing Clue:
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And the next:
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And our last Clue:
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With me so far? Well, that first GIF is a bit off, I couldn't find one of Crowley actually spitting out the flies. But he does. When Beelzebub first drags him to Hell, he actually goes "Pleaugh!" and spits out four or five flies.
Moving right along, we come to Crowley in Heaven with Muriel, looking at the trial. We learn two important things here:
One, Gabriel doesn't have a desk.
Two, Muriel does. Where they keep the records. And it's a bit lonely. Every few hundred years, someone comes and asks for something. Muriel can't access the sensitive ones, you have to be pretty high up. A throne, dominion, or higher. Like, maybe Supreme Archangel?
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So if Gabriel doesn't have a desk, whose desk is he at when he's getting ready to leave Heaven? Of course I can't find a damn picture of Gabriel at the desk, but it's Muriel's. Where they keep the RECORDS.
Gabriel puts his memory into the fly, then gets on the elevator to go to Earth.
Now, when Gabriel opens the fly with his memories inside, we find out that it's a container. Bigger on the inside. You can put thing(S) in it. The bit we see of him remembering is shot in two parts, one where he's flying down a red tunnel, one where he's flying down a blue. If you slow this scene down and watch, you can see that he is NOT looking at just his own memories. There is more going on here, more that he was not present for. @embracing-the-ineffable put up a great meta about that here. Go look!
Now I figured Gabriel must have taken something else. Something important. Something useful. Something he meant to give to Aziraphale, except he forgot.
I also figured he must have left whatever it was in the fly when he took his memories out. Crowley must have realized while watching the trial footage that Gabriel also grabbed something else. I don't know when Crowley grabs the fly, but he does. And that is what he gives to Aziraphale in the kiss. Why? Well.
I had no idea what Gabriel took until I started working on the chiastic structure of season 2. I'm not done with that analysis yet, but let me show you one thing that I have found so far:
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(The numbers are just to try and help me navigate the story and its events without time stamps)
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My note #357 of what happens isn't quite right, but when I saw the only two times Aziraphale says "I forgive you" are towards the beginning of Season 2 and towards the end, I realized I had something.
Rephrase line 357: Crowley's kiss is forgiven IN EXCHANGE FOR RECORDS.
(Not that I think Crowley's kiss needs to be forgiven. It's just what Aziraphale says, and had to say at that moment, because the Metatron was listening in.)
What does Heaven in Good Omens remind us of most of all?
A big corporate entity. And what do powerful people do when they get fired from a big corporate entity? They download all their emails while they're cleaning out their desks. Damning emails. Emails that can be used to black mail or even destroy big corporate entities. Or, ya know, maybe they swipe some sensitive RECORDS?
Oh yes.
Records that Gabriel meant to give to Aziraphale, but he forgot. Records that Crowley realized Gabriel had put in the fly. The fly that Crowley grabbed once Gabriel had his memory out. The fly that he gave to Aziraphale when he kissed him. The fly that no longer held Gabriel's memory, but did still contain those damning records.
Here's Aziraphale reading the records:
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Here's Aziraphale being horrified and outraged by what he's reading:
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And here's Aziraphale realizing he has got some GOOD DIRT on Heaven. Maybe enough to bring them down:
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That's it folks. I have no idea what the records actually say, and maybe we're not meant to know until season 3, but whatever it is, it's GOOD.
That's my story, and by God Herself, I'm sticking to it.
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pit-and-the-pen · 2 days
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I Can Do It With a Broken Heart (Pt 2 to unrequited love)
A/n: HERE IT IS BESTIES!!! The official Pt 2 to unrequited love! I know the poll is still live but I’m impatient. So to make sure I’m still taking everyone’s votes into account there will be an alternate ending that should be posted right after this.
Read the Alt ending here, it's pretty similar in places
Read Pt 3 here
I'm still absolutely blown away by how well-received the first part was. This is going to be an ongoing series, all could be read individually but the "background" will be these two fics.
Warnings: Angst, Cursing, reader suffers from depressed thoughts
WC: ~3.4k
divder by @cafekitsune
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The next morning I was in Rhys office. He barely even looked up from the paper strewn over his desk before I spoke. 
“I’m going back home.” 
He sighed, leaning back into his chair. His eyes raked over me, “Does this have anything to do with why Azriel was so huffy this morning?” His eyebrow raised and I felt the anger I’d been trying to quell since last night rise its head up like a sleeping dragon.
“Fuck off. Let him be mad if he wants to be mad.” I snapped. 
“Mad isn’t exactly how I would put it,” He paused looking at me. “What happened?” The High Lord questioned. I sighed not having the strength to recount the events from last night. 
“Nothing but the inevitable.” he frowned at my non-answer but didn’t press any harder. 
“I’ll miss you. We all will.” He said finally. I nodded. 
“You all should visit.” Not an I’ll visit. No. If I could avoid it I would never step foot into this miserable court ever again. 
I was gone by mid-morning. Mor had helped me winnow the things I wanted to take with me. What they did with the rest wasn’t any of my concern. Rhys or Feyre had bought it all for me anyways, let them decide what to do with their money. 
Once I had gotten settled into my room, I hugged Mor goodbye and thanked her for her help. She just gave me a tighter hug and told me she would visit soon. 
It was two weeks before I could see Helion.Two weeks of settling back into my court that I loved so dearly.  He was visiting Dawn court for some trade agreement that needed to be signed. I came by every day, asking if he’d returned you. His second would just silently shake her head at me. And I would stomp back to my room like an angry babe. 
Two weeks of checking before I finally saw her nod her head and I had to stop myself from running into Helions office. I had the control to at least knock on the door but not much else. I quickly shut the door behind me as he called me in. 
“Sunbeam!” He called out when saw my face. “I had hoped the rumors of you moving back home were true.” He walked around the desk and gave me a brisk hug. Very out of character for him. 
“You’re not an easy man to schedule an appointment with, Helion.” I smiled warmly at the High Lord of my court. 
“If you wanted a piece of me, you only had to say the words and I would have come running darling.” There's the flirt I remember. I thought, rolling my eyes.
“But judging by your urgency in requesting a meeting that my second expressed to me, I’m going to assume that’s not what you wanted to see me for.”
My smile dropped as I braced myself for the question I needed to ask him.
“I need you to break a mating bond”
His mouth fell open. For once in my life, Helion was speechless. “I don’t know if I can even do that. Are you sure that’s what you want?” His eyes saw right through me. I threw my head back, a sad laugh bubbling past my lips. 
“Yes. No. Gods I don’t know. I just don’t want it to hurt like this forever.” I felt treacherous tears starting to fall down my face. Helion grabbed my arms gently before I could wipe them away. 
“I know you well enough to know that you don’t run away from hard things.” He held me against his chest as I really started to sob. 
“Helion. Every second that I’m away from him it kills me. I’m over here dying inside over some male who only ever saw me as a second option.” 
“Then he’s an idiot. But the mother still saw fit to make you two mates. Give it some more thought, you’re clearly still not fully decided. I’ll do some research to see if it’s even possible and if you still want to, I’ll be here to help.” I nodded my thanks into his shirt. He takes my head between his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe the tears still streaking down my face. He gives me a gentle kiss on the top of my head before I walk out of the room. 
I sat on the decision for a month. A month of volleying back and forth. Weighting the pros and cons of my choice. I had started doing my own research through the tomes in the library I had access to. My eyes widened as I finally found the information I needed. 
Picking up the book I all but sprinted to Helion’s office. I didn't bother knocking as I pushed past the door. Helion looked up from his desk and raised an eyebrow at me. 
Panting, I showed him the page in the book. “Are you sure?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.” I promised him. He still looked skeptical but walked around to where I stood anyway. 
“I can’t say this is going to be pleasant.” He said wearily as I laid down on the couch in his study. “I’ve never heard of anyone doing this. I’ve seen rejection but this is cutting off the magic at the source.”
I looked into the males eyes, eyes I had known my whole life.
“Please. Nothing can hurt more than this already does.” Sympathy washed over his face and he leaned over me, placing a hand to each of my temples. It felt like the worst headache I had ever had in my life. My head was being split open and I heard the whimper leave my mouth. The pressure of his hands lifted slightly and I fought to get out the words. “I’m okay. Keep going.” I couldn’t open my eyes to see his face but his hands didn’t move. The pounding broke to a burning heat. I could feel the moment it snapped, I could almost picture the scissors snipping that tight string that connected us. One last fleeting rush of pure pain pushed through the bond. And then it was gone. My head was still pounding, I opened my eyes and saw Helion panted above me. 
“How do you feel?” He asked, helping me into a sitting position. 
“Like I have one hell of a hangover.” I pressed a hand to the bridge of my nose. Like I could squeeze out the uncomfortable feeling. “But also lighter.” My free hand going to my chest. It would take some time to adjust to this new feeling. But I could not stop the smile that spread over my face. Before Helion could say anything else, I reached up to wrap my arms around his neck.
“I can’t thank you enough.” I said into his neck. He gave a tight laugh and hugged me back. 
“You should go sleep this off. Please tell me if any of the pain gets worse.” He held my face between his hands and I nodded as much as I could. I all but floated back to my room. 
I fell into a familiar routine back in the Day Court. I took up my old job as a researcher. My days were spent surrounded by the massive libraries of my home court. People would come to us with questions and it was our job to use the knowledge at our disposal to find them answers. It kept me busy at the very least, but I did have to admit that I love doing it. I felt more useful here than I ever had at the Night Court. Pangs of sadness would rip through me when someone snarked in a way that made me think of Cassian. When someone would smirk and I could only picture Rhysand standing in front of me as he beat me in chess. The art was so beautiful that I longed to show Feyre if only to see that twinkle in eye as she dissected the colors and shading used. 
I smiled as the pang in my chest at the thought of Azriel held no pain. It had taken me some time to get used to the emptiness in my chest, I had grown so used to the hollow feeling of the unreturned bond but this emptiness wasn’t pain but instead it was like a weight had been taken off my chest. 
Someone calling my name pulled me from my musing. One of the messengers, Dia, smiled brightly up at me. “Hey sunbeam. Helion asked me to deliver this to you.” I took the golden envelope from her. I thanked her and she turned around, leaving me back to my books. 
I slid my finger under the seal and pulled out the letter. He was flirty even in a letter. He had requested that I accompany him to the latest ball he was hosting. Helion, ever the charmer, even placed boxes for me to check yes or no. I giggled to myself at the juvenile nature of it, but checked yes with the quill sitting next to me. 
The ball was just a few days away and I was so excited as dress after dress were brought into my room for me to try on. The one that ended up catching my eye was a floor length glossimer dress, such a pale golden color it looked almost like sunlight itself. The bottom was dyed a light pink color that flowed into it seamlessly. It took my breath away as I smoothed out the light fabric. It fit like a glove and I knew instantly this was the dress I had to wear. 
My reflection looked like a stranger. My hair was pinned to one side, sweeping down over my shoulder and my back. A golden tiara was woven into loose curls. Long golden chandelier earrings studded with diamonds almost touched my shoulders. The sun had created a sultry blush on the high points of my cheeks. I looked happier than I had in years. I sensed Helion's presence in my room and caught his eyes in the floor length mirror. 
He let out a low whistle and I blushed, adjusting my tiara. I walked over to him and he held out his hand for me, twirling me around dramatically when I took it. “No one will be able to take their eyes off of you, Sunbeam.” His eyes hungirly raked over me, “If you ever reconsider my offer. I would take you to bed in a heartbeat. Just say the words.” I pushed his shoulder, I didn’t doubt his words. 
“Keep your pants on Helion. We have a ball to get to.” 
“I’m High Lord. I can be late.” His pupils had dilated and I rolled my eyes, pushing him out the door before I linked my arm into his. 
The ball was as lavish as I had expected. There was much to celebrate and this was mostly to welcome the new High Lord. Eris. Beron had finally died a few months back and Eris had officially stepped into the role with grace. The autumn court once known for its cruelty seemed to be taking a new direction and as I talked to nobility from the court, it was for the better. I had gotten to know him over the years, his frequent visits to the Night Court, plus a few flirty exchanges that I always brushed off, while he was helping us during the war softened me to him. Learning the true events of that night with Mor. 
I locked eyes with Eris across the room. He had been heartbreakingly handsome when he was just High Fae but as a High Lord? His hair had grown slightly longer, just touching his shoulders. Dressed in a deep maroon suit that showed off every single one of his muscles. The permanent scowl that had been etched into his face had been replaced with a smile that radiated comfort. My feet seemed to move without deciding to. Eris kept his eyes locked onto mine as I got closer. My cheeks heated up under his intense stare. 
“Hi little sunbeam,” Honeyed words wrapped around me. “Seems like you’re no longer hiding in the shadows.” He held out his hand, eyes flickering to the dance floor. I smiled up at him and gently placed my hand in his. 
His touch was firm and the warmth of his power radiated off of him. He clutched my waist, pulling me flush to his front. I felt every plane of his toned body pressed against me and goosebumps broke out across my skin having nothing to do with the temperature in the room. The two of us gilded across the floor. I could feel the eyes of the room on us but I only had eyes for the male in front of me. 
“If I had known you danced this good, I would have pulled you out of that miserable court a long time ago.” He spoke into the shell of my ear.  “I’ll never understand what the Shadowslinger was thinking, even I could smell the mating bond on you. Plus, one look at me with those beautiful doe eyes and I would have been putty in your hands.” He nipped at my earlobe and I felt it deep in my stomach. 
“Well good thing he’s not my mate anymore.” I whispered back to him, voice breathy. He responded with a kiss to my neck. All of a sudden I felt his warmth disappear. Before I could even process what had happened, I was standing half ways across the room. Eris just smirked, eyes twinkling with mischief. 
“Stand down, you overgrown bat.” The High Lord said and that’s when I heard the growl from my side, caught a glimpse of wings and sapphire blue. Before another word could leave my mouth, I was being pulled out of the ballroom and outside to the balcony. 
I thrashed against Azriel’s grip on my arm. His hand wrapped around my wrist tight enough to bruise. 
“What the hel was that?” He yelled at me, finally letting go of my wrist.
“You had no right!” I screeched at him. Anger seethed through me. I felt my palms heat up from the light trying to escape from them. He went to grab my arm and I ripped it back from his reach. “Don’t you fucking dare.” 
“Please.” Was all he said and suddenly it was like that night all over again. Me pouring my heart out and all he could say was please. 
“Please what, Azriel? Is that all you know how to do, beg and plead. For what? Was breaking my heart once not enough for you.” 
“Gods. What do you want me to say?” He ran his hands through his hair. He looked like he was about to lose it. Good. “Do you want to hear how I was fucking terrified. How any good thing that I had ever received had been taken away from me? That when I felt that twinge in my chest, that I knew what it meant but prayed to the gods that it wasn’t that.” I went to start in on him again. “Would hearing that I looked for you in every female I came across help us here?.” 
“Stop. Just stop. I’m sure you’ve rehearsed this all before but do you actually think I’m stupid enough to believe it?” I spit out between my teeth. 
“No. Gods this is coming out all wrong.” He ran a frantic hand through his hair. I clocked the shake in them “Why did you break the bond?”
I laughed at his audacity. “Why? You have the nerve to ask me why?” My voice dripped venom, “I did it because I couldn’t stand being tied to you like that. That night..” I started, he interrupted me.
“I said the most vile things I could think of. I panicked when you told me about the bond. If you could feel it too, I knew nothing good could have come from that so I pushed you away.” I shook my head, as if I could shake his words away from my ears. 
“You seemed so shocked when I told you.” 
His head sunk down, voice small “I was shocked because no part of me believed, believes, that I deserve you in that way.” When he stepped forward, I didn’t step away. Mind too busy catching up with his words. “Please say something. “ 
I turned my eyes up to look at him. Hazel eyes soft sparkling with unshed tears. I wanted to rip into him. I truly did. Some sick part of me wanted to make him hurt like he had hurt me but I know that wouldn’t fix anything here. What is done was done. 
“You don’t get to do this to me. You don’t get to say all the right things and just have me forgive you. You don’t get to say that you love me after everything you did.” He sighed. Leaning his head on top of mine. I frowned at the contact, but didn’t push him away, refusing to melt into him. “Whatever your reason. You said all those things that you knew would hurt me, you said them and some part of you had to believe them.” 
“I know. There isn’t a day that I don’t regret everything that I said, everything I had put you through over all those years. I took you for granted and I didn’t realize how much I loved you until you were gone. Until I felt that bond being snatched away from me” I wanted to push him back but something in me let his words sink into my bones. 
“I had dreamed for so long how it would feel when I finally heard you say those words, And do you know what I feel?” His eyes glimmered with hope as I took a step away from him, out of his grasp. “Nothing. I feel nothing for you. Not anger, not contempt.” Tears slipped out of his eyes at my harsh words. “Of course I remember what it felt like before. Maybe some part of me will always love you in my own way but I’m not tied to you anymore and I have never been so thankful for something in my entire life.” He flinched like I had hit him.
“Do you really mean that?” His voice was so small it almost made me feel bad for him. Almost.
“I do.” I sucked in a heavy breath. “Look, we’ll most likely still have to see each other so I don’t want to end on a bad note. You were still one of my best friends for over a century and this doesn’t undo all of that but this,” I gesture between the two of us, “Will never be anything else but that, a friendship.” He gave me a sad smile. 
“I’ll take whatever you are willing to give me.” I turned to walk away and he reached for my arm, I grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze before I walked back to the ball that was in full swing. 
I weaved in between bodies easily. Finding Eris with ease. Despite being in the middle of a conversation, he stepped away the moment he sensed my presence. Not sparing a glance to the fae surrounding him. 
“That’s all settled then?” He asked, giving me a once over. I nodded and took his hand again.
“I believe we were in the middle of a dance?” I pulled him against me, not realizing how much I missed the feeling of his heat against my skin. I placed my head on his chest. We didn’t so much as dance, more so swayed in place. Arms wrapped around each other. He tapped my chin with a gentle finger and I let him guide my mouth up to his. The kiss was soft and sweet, like holding your hands in front of a warm fire after a day in the cold. When I tried to deepen it, he laughed against my lips. I let out a shameless whine as he disconnected our lips. As I looked into his eyes, I felt the stirring of something familiar and for the first time, welcomed it as that hole in my chest was filled again.
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Tagging people that seemed excited about pt. 2
@cleverzonkwombatsludge @yearninglustfully @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch
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So... @muffinlance wrote a really awesome story. I read a post from a point in time, though I truly do not remember when since it seems like I've been working on this project forever, saying that she gives blanket permission for people to print and bind the story into a book (I think there was an also addendum saying that they do not give permission to be sold, since selling fic is illegal). This fic has had total control over my whole brain since it was sent to me (@creatorofthemind I believe it was you, so thank you forever for tuning me into it) back during the days of like chapter six or seven.
So here I am now, sharing this amazing journey of my first ever bookbinding adventure. Further reading below.
So to give you an idea of what's going on, this is a fanfiction about Zuko (Avatar the Last Airbender) (animated show version, the LA show did not exist yet and we do not speak of the movie) being adopted by Hakoda, Father of Katara and Zuko. (This might have also been what kicked off the Give Zuko A Parent craze, but don't fact check me.)
Overall, the characters from the show stick very well to the cannon versions, but where MuffinLance really shines is in the rich backstories and fleshed out feeling of all the non cannon elements. Especially the background characters. I would argue that the writing in this peice of fanwork could easily rival the cannon show at many points of comparison.
Now that you have context, we can get into the actual process.
To start, I used this guide to figure out where to even begin, and fount the included resource list to also be quite helpful. I cannot for the LIFE OF ME figure out where I found the template I used for the front matter and such, but it must be somewhere and I will link to it when I inevitably come across it again.
Then I began to typeset. This step took... a long time. I worked in chunks from about September of 2022 to late March of 2024. I would get a big section done, sometimes even the entire thing, but then find I hated the way I had done it and give up for months at a time. Such is the life of ADHD and flitting interest in projects I suppose.
And then finally, step one was done, and I was left with pages on a word document that look like this. (And do please let me know if you want the link to the document. It was so much work, and I would love to not be the only one to use it.)
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Next step was printing out this beast. Ended up being about eight pages of front matter, and about 630 pages of body text.
That I printed wrong.
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Twice.
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Before finally getting it right. And then not getting a picture of it, because I finished at 4 am and had work at 7, and am also an idiot.
Then I simply stitched along, putting everything together into a beautiful text block.
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And came up with a design for the cover.
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Yes the glue did end up lumpy. Ignore it.
Yes I did have to sketch out the design onto a scraped page several times before I figured out what I was doing. Ignore that too.
The cover design does wrap around the entire cover. No I did not get a picture before I glued the thing down. See again: I'm an idiot. And just... massively impatient.
Finally, we get to the stage of gluing. Behold, my bookpress.
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Of course, topped with Madam MuffinLances own actual professional-people book, Fox's Tounge and Kirin's Bone. It is Excelent. Here is the LINK so you can go and support this amazing author with the real-monies as well as the internet-kudos.
Then, once everything is glued together, one must give the book its "gilt" edges.
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jqnehr · 16 hours
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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mothdruid · 4 hours
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Within the past 72 hours the TGM fandom got a fire put under it's ass, for lack of a better term/phrase. Even though I'm not as active in the fandom anymore, it did make me want to talk about a few things. This isn't the first time that I've had to make a post similar to this, usually speaking about reblogs and keeping your fanfic writers feeling wanted within the fandom spaces, but today I'm going to talk more about fandom etiquette and my experiences in fandom spaces. So, if you want to hear my opinion on fandom etiquette, how I learned fandom etiquette, and my thoughts about the doxing situation that has happened, keep on reading.
My Fandom Experience.
The first fandom that I was ever a part of was The Hunger Games fandom in the 8th grade (if you don't include my anime fandoms). I was 12-13 at the time. This was when I was first introduced to Tumblr and being involved within a fandom online. At the time I was super young, barely even knew who I was as a person, let alone in a fandom space. All I did was reblog little gifsets and fawn over Josh Hutcherson. I remember getting my first hate anon, even though I didn't do anything that would generate that to even happen. Even when I was 12-13, I couldn't understand why anyone would send a hate anon. That was when I found out a friend of mine found my Tumblr and actually secretly hated me, so she sent me hate anons. Still, before I knew it was her I didn't understand.
Fandoms were a formative part of my childhood. I think that main one that helped form me though was the Supernatural (yeah, I know, eye roll), Naruto, and The Hobbit fandoms. I had made friends on Tumblr and Instagram through these fandoms. During these times was when I had first started consuming fanfiction. Specifically, destiel and thilbo fanfiction. This is how I started to find the things in fanfiction that I loved, and the things that I hated. Instead of sending hate to the writers for their thoughts and stories that I didn't agree with, I would back out of the story or just scroll past. Not only that, I also started to use the filters on AO3 constantly, ensuring that I was only reading the fics that I knew I'd enjoy. Also, I was careful to read warnings and tags prior to reading the fic. Never once did I blame the writer for something that I knew I didn't like and accidentally read or read for see what it was about.
After high school was when I started getting into fanfiction writing. I've written for a lot of fandoms during this time. The IT movies, Total Drama, Haikyuu, Attack on Titan, Marvel, Bridgerton, Top Gun: Maverick, and currently ASOIAF. As a writer I've never gotten hate, thankfully, but I have had a lot of friends that have. It's sad to see so many people who take the time to write, whether it's enjoyable or not, receive hate. As writers we are simply expressing our creativity for the things that we love. Since posting fanfiction on tumblr, I have experienced a lot of people pestering for new updates and when the next fic is, and so have a lot of other writers on here. Even though people only know us as a little icon and username, fanfiction writers are people. We have lives outside of writing fanfiction. Everyone also isn't the same type writer. One person may easily write multiple fics every week, some of us take longer, and some of us are even just passion writers (me lol).
The TGM fandom has been one of the most negative fandom experiences I've ever seen/had. It is full of some of the meanest people/anons I've ever seen. From writers being attacked for fic ideas, people being sent hate for something that the anon has full control over, and people constantly expecting new stories to read on the daily. Yes, I do know that other fandoms have these issues, but it seems to be almost a weekly, hell, even daily thing within this fandom. A lot of the issues that I see happen in this fandom are from people who don't understand fandom etiquette.
Fandom Etiquette.
If you had noticed there was a few things I put in bold above. These are key things that I learned during my time that attribute to fandom etiquette. So without further a do, I'll list out some fandom etiquette rules that I follow all the time.
Don't send hate anons to people
Block/unfollow people you don't like
If you don't like an idea or fic, don't read it
Read through all warnings and tags that the writer provided
Use AO3 filters
Don't blame the writer/creator for reading things they created that you actively know you don't like
Writers/Creators aren't "content farms"
There are people behind these blogs/usernames, treat them like someone you'd see on the street
Writers/Creators are expressing love/passion for something, don't hate them for doing that
If you see something fandom related that you don't like, scroll past it or ignore it
YOU CURATE YOUR OWN EXPERIENCE (ESPECIALLY ON TUMBLR)
The Doxing Situation.
For those who are unaware but decided to read this anyways, recently there was a writer (Mama Mayhem) on here who got doxed from another writer in the fandom. Mayhem has since lost her job due to the doxing. This was apparently from her breaking HIPAA by posting a picture into a private groupchat/discord. This picture was posted almost a half year ago. Meaning that the person who reported/doxed Mayhem had known about this picture for months and only recently decided to do something about it.
I'll start by saying that I also work in healthcare, and know many other people here who do. I understand that a HIPAA violation is 100% an offense that gets you fired. I'm not excusing the HIPAA violation if one did occur.
Some people have brought up the idea that maybe the person that reported the picture, and doxed Mayhem, was doing it out of the goodness of their heart. Due to the timeline of it all, that doesn't seem likely. I had a previous coworker get fired for HIPAA violations and it took a total of a week from the initial report for her to be gone.
The biggest thing I want to convey is that TWO WRONGS CAN HAPPEN AT THE SAME TIME. Yes, if Mayhem violated HIPAA, it is wrong. But at the same time, the person held onto this information for months only to use it out of spite, pettiness, and cruelty, is wrong.
My Thoughts.
Due to Mayhem being doxed, a lot of people have decided to leave this platform, take indefinite hiatuses, stop writing, or move to AO3 exclusively., and I don't blame them. I'll be honest, I'm thinking about moving to AO3 exclusively now. AO3 feels a lot more rewarding in my experience. I already only post my fics for ships to AO3, so why not just post everything on AO3 (which I usually do).
I think a lot of people have forgot what it feels like to feel shame in something they say or do. When I say this, it's directed towards people who send hate or do other malicious things in fandom spaces. Fandoms were never this clique-ish and mean. I think it has to do with the pandemic, meaning that a lot of people who would have never joined a fandom did because they weren't allowed to do anything outside of their house. So, those mean girls that made fun of fandom girlies (g/n) previously, joined the fandoms and decided started bullying the people within them.
This situation is super shitty and people are now scared. It makes complete sense, especially after seeing someone, that many of you were close to, be doxed. A lot of people are scared of it happening to them now. I don't think this fandom will be the same after this situation, but who knows, maybe everyone will just forget and move on. Either way, I think I'll be taking a step back from the TGM fandom. I'll still be here, but until further notice, I won't be posting any TGM fanfiction. Maybe a gifset/picture here and there, but I don't think this is a fandom I feel comfortable writing for anymore.
If you've read all of this, thank you.
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violetasteracademic · 12 hours
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On Mate Behavior: Elriel (Part Two- Scent)
Another day of an SJM Instagram jump scare with more stories and no book accouncement (though I am HAPPILY celebrating indie bookstore day with you all!)- So it's another day to be on my Elriel shit. Will we still want posts like this once the announcement is out and we are done fighting for our lives? I feel like the announcement is coming soon so I need to sneak in all my thoughts!
In my previous analysis, I highlighted a moment that would have been perfect for Azriel to display some mate-like behavior towards Gwyn, and it was sorely lacking. You can catch up on that post here!
Today I would like to discuss another area lacking in mate behavior in the BC between Azriel and Gwyn, but present for... drumroll... Elriel. And that is scent.
Bringing back Nessian's bonus chapter to start the parallels, because I do think an additional bonus lends itself to the fairest basis for comparison (also if I used book examples from ToG to CC regarding romantic parings/mates and scent I'd be here for several hundred years):
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Cassian is so lost in Nesta's scent that he had to stop himself from letting his eyes roll back into his head while breathing her in. This... sounds familiar:
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Azriel's eyes also nearly rolled into the back of his head because of Elain's scent.
As previously mentioned, scent plays a huge role in mates/romantic pairings. I was chatting with my friend @faeprincesswarrior when I first started thinking about the scent thing, and she remembered that Rhys could smell Feyre's scent before they even met. He would wake up with her scent in his nose. Cassian and Azriel both can hardly control themselves when they take in the scents of Nesta and Elain.
Scent plays an important role in romantic pairings, and is honestly probably one of the things SJM lays on the thickest throughout the entirety of her multiverse and she has a tendency to drop it early on, often as an initial indicator. Yes, sometimes scenting is platonic, but Gwyn and Az don't even have that on page. There is simply no mention of scent in their portion of the chapter, but it is heavy in Elain's section.
*Crescent City 3 Spoiler* Even when Ithan is done with all his side quests and spends just a few moments with Perry, he's suddenly like mmm... strawberries and cinnamon. No other indicator of mate behavior there but MANY readers only needed that little nugget to be like- something's cooking here.
Again, in addition to Azriel's lack of response to directly recalling Gwyn's assault from his POV on page- something I would have liked to see to indicate feelings could be brewing there- there is also zero mention or indication that Azriel experiences Gwyn's scent at all. Even something small, like "a shift in her scent" at his arrival, or noticing a change in her scent from her flash of memory as well (as it happened between Nesta and Cassian.)
Azriel lost his mind over Elain's scent in their bonus chapter, just as Cassian lost his mind over Nesta's scent in theirs.
Azriel makes no mention of Gwyn's scent in the BC. It's as if to him, she doesn't even have one.
I want Azriel and Elain to be together because Azriel and Elain want to be together. They experience what romantic pairings experience together, and it is delicious.
I love Gwyn, which is why I think if she is going to have a romance in the future, she deserves more than a regifted necklace and a male who is drowning in the scent of another female's kitty and doesn't even notice what Gwyn smells like. This is really what we want for her?
Hoping for a book announcement soon. Do you guys like seeing Sarah post more? I have mixed feelings. Part of me thinks it is gearing up for an announcement which is exciting. Part of me also is tired of the jump scares and wants complete silence unless it is a book announcement. Judge me if you must!
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So, I'm curious: What's your take on Aylin's experience after/if she kills Lorroakan?
Allegedly, there's some information floating around somewhere that said Aylin was angry with Selune after she killed Lorroakan, but I can't find where this info is.
If you saw posts about that here on tumblr it was probably posted by @justanotherignot! I've actually been meaning to gather up all the devnote tidbits about Selûne from Aylin and Isobel for a while now, so thank you for the excuse to do so and ramble a bit.
Player: I was just wondering what it was like in that cage of Balthazar's. Aylin: Let us not dwell on those dark days. Their memory is a vortex within my heart that leads directly to the Hells.
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What is happening is, well, it's the century of unthinkable horror catching up to her. It's the Trauma(TM) - in one of the conversation options she's literally triggered by the mention of someone being run through repeatedly! It's the growing awareness that although she's been freed (and possibly reunited with her love), the secret is out and there are always going to be assholes gunning for her, aiming to use her as an "artefact" and power source to fuel their ambitions, without any regard for her, you know... basic personhood and well-being. Also, Lorroakan was blatantly lying. He didn't find any super special way to siphon her immortality with "no harm, no pain of any kind", he was just replicating Balthazar's soul cage (you can even find a letter from Ketheric to him, showing Lorroakan was pestering them).
On to the stuff from the game files! First, the conversation with Aylin directly after the Lorroakan fight in the tower. I'm going to be putting the context notes in square brackets next to the lines they apply to. I also plucked some audio out from the files for some of these because I love the delivery.
Aylin: The fire-haired fool is dead. Yet as I stare upon his corpse, I feel… sadness. Why? [Slow and curious, angry and confused by all that has happened.] Player: What kind of sadness is it? / I know something of sadness - or at least the ballads do. What does it feel like? Aylin: A gripping in the chest. As though I'd lost someone, something. [Lost in thought for a moment; confused.] Aylin: A paladin's fatigue, no doubt. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side. [Remembering herself. She is Dame Aylin.] Aylin: I will catch my breath, then to camp I will bring my bones. Moonmaiden be with you. Player: Smiting is a weighty duty - sometimes it can be tiring. / Perhaps smiting has lost its pleasures. Aylin: Say it can't be so. For I am Selûne's sword. And ever must be. [She means it, but on the periphery of her consciousness is a tiny crack. Wondering about her fate.]
The above never fails to get me - she is Dame Aylin! Sword of the Moonmaiden! Glorious immortal paladin, champion of a righteous cause! She smites evil-doers for breakfast, that's, like, her whole thing! What do you mean she can't just pick up where she left off and go about her merry smitey way? What do you mean the thing that is supposed to be the literal core of her entire being (forever) doesn't feel good and glorious anymore, but just makes her feel sad and empty? No, no, no, we can't have that.
Player: One of the greatest tragedies of revenge is that it can only be taken once. / Because you won't get to kill him again? Aylin: Perhaps. Yet if I could run him through a thousand times, I wonder-- [Lost in thought, she's been triggered to remember her own fate being run through over and over.] Aylin: Battle has tired my mind, made me susceptible to flights of fancy. You were excellent in battle, as is your way. And I am proud to fight at your side.
Aylin: I will return to camp shortly. I just need a moment to… to… [Lost in thought.]
She so very desperately needs some rest and a chance to come to terms with everything that happened and that was done to her. And it's clear it's going to be hard because she is defaulting to trying to deny anything is wrong, is clearly trying (and failing) to just be her old self immediately, has blatantly internalised a lot of that classic I Am A Sword stuff on top of everything (even though her mother is huge on free will and choice!), and is just really not well-equipped to handle any of this at all.
Next, this is the post-Lorroakan convo you get if you have both Aylin and Isobel in camp.
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just regaling sweet Isobel with tales of our prowess. Isobel: Very impressive. Thank you for helping Aylin - that wizard sounded absolutely dastardly. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - she's not sure why Aylin isn't herself.] Player: My pleasure. He had it coming. Aylin: He did, and it came. Now, my friend: bask in your victory. I will do the same. Aylin: But fear not: when the time comes for you to face the foe of foes, Isobel and I will stand by your side. [Rallying her soldierly spirit, but still a little drained.] Isobel: We wouldn't miss it. Not for anything. Aylin: Go well, friend. We will see you soon. And with our great powers combined, this city will be saved. Player: Hopefully he'll be the last. Aylin: There are always more bastards behind bastards. But we will run through them all, each by each.
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: I always do, with darling Isobel by my side. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of Lorroakan's death in your mind like silkfloss.
If Isobel isn't there (meaning she died in Act 2), you get this version:
Aylin: Ah. Ally mine. We are reunited once more. [Warm, but drained. She's not feeling like herself.] Aylin: I was just reviewing our fight against foul Lorroakan; your moves and mine. The victory was soundly won. Aylin: Don't you think? [Uncharacteristically, Aylin is seeking input. She's usually so confident about everything, but killing Lorroakan has not had the intended effect on her.] Player: Indeed I do. Let his demise serve as a warning to anyone else who'd seek you out. Aylin: Let him be the last. If my dear mother has any mercy, she will ensure it. [Trying to stay her usual self, but her mask is cracking a tiny bit here. Privately, Aylin is dealing with a great deal of anger toward her mother, the goddess Selûne, But she's not yet willing to face it. How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?]
Player: We fought well - though I was a little worried about you afterward, in truth. Aylin: Set your mind at ease, my friend. Dame Aylin is more well now than she has been this past century. [Good humored. Soft in tone. A little uncertain - it's true she's better now than she has been, but why does she feel so shitty, then? (She's in the beginning of reckoning with the trauma of what happened to her).]
Player: I hope you can rest easy now, Dame Aylin. Aylin: Yes. I wish for the very same. Aylin: Enjoy the spoils of your victory. Spin memories of our prowess in your mind like silkfloss.
So, a few things pop out for me here. First, you get the more explicit anger at Selûne if Isobel isn't there, as opposed to the "hahah, I will smite all the bastards who dare come after me, no matter how many there are" line. "How could her powerful mother let all this happen to her?" just... damn, hits hard, even if you subscribe to the theory that Selûne simply could not intervene in the Shadowfell imprisonment beyond sending those poor people whose graves you find in front of the mausoleum.
And here Aylin really lays it on thick with the denial that there's anything wrong at all. Combined with the letter you get from her in the epilogue if Isobel is dead, it just paints such a bleak, sad picture. I can just see her going all out on the Sword of Selûne duty-bound paladin side of things, no rest, no healing, no stopping even for a moment, no dealing with anything at all, from the trauma to the bitterness towards mum. Until whatever horrible breaking point comes, a year or a century from now. The need for Isobel's humanising influence is so clear. I've touched on Isobel's side of things here.
Speaking of having a bone to pick with Selûne, if you're playing as a cleric/paladin of Selûne, you can get some extra very honest dialogue with Isobel in Last Light:
Player: Why has the Moonmaiden waited until now to take an interest in this curse? Isobel: Maybe she was waiting for one of us to find this place ourselves. Free will, and all that.
Isobel: Though if it were my place to ask why she let Ketheric turn; why she allowed this village to rot at his hands - believe me, I would. [A cold edge in her voice]
Player: Are you faring all right? It can't be easy holding a lone candle in such darkness. Isobel: All things with her strength. You know the litany. [A little sarcastically. She's got a bone to pick with Selûne but isn't being too overt.]
Side note: the amount of devnotes for Isobel's lines that say she's delivering them "with swagger" and being "cheeky" makes me smile every time. Love her. Love her snark.
Also, to get it out of the way: no, I'm fairly sure Aylin did not break her oath. I see this brought up a ton and I just see no way for it to be the case. There is nothing to suggest this outside of a wording similarity and it just makes no sense. Girl is clearly some flavour of Oath of Vengeance (she uses Abjure Enemy, so this is the case even mechanically, even though she's obviously an NPC and not a standard player-build paladin) and she killed a very shitty guy who was also explicitly after her in godawful ways. You can do far worse things in the game than her dramatic speech and backbreaker and not break you OoV.
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athenagranted · 7 hours
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idk if you're still writing the post-cemetry scene fic with pining eddie (idk if i'm describing it right) but i would love to hear more about it/see a snippet or too if you feel so inclined 👀
someone asking about angsty pining fic in the month of our lord april 2024? this was such a lovely surprise 😭 i'm gonna be honest with u anon i'm likely not going to publish 911 fic again BUT because you asked so nicely i'll give you a few older snippets from my draft:
Eddie sighs, breaking the stare. “You have a key, you know,” he says finally. “Feel free to come join me whenever you want.” He turns on his heel and walks back inside to finish his goddamn brownies, leaving Buck standing in the doorway.  It’s silent for a few minutes. He’s in the middle of measuring a tablespoon of espresso powder when Buck steps into the kitchen and shuts the door behind him. Eddie feels the weight of Buck’s gaze on him as he folds the powder into his brownie mixture, but he doesn’t turn to meet his eye until Buck speaks.  “Is that…” Buck falters. He clears his throat. “Is that my recipe?”  “Yeah,” Eddie says gruffly. “Chris asked me to make it. Said he wanted to share it with his friends when they come over tomorrow for their playdate.”  Buck snorts. “Man, you can’t call it that. Chris nearly bit my head off last time I tried. Kept reminding me that ‘playdates are for kids, Buck,’ and that he’s not a kid anymore.”  Buck emphasizes that last bit with air quotes, and Eddie can’t help but grin at that. But his smile fades instantly, remembering the somber look on Buck’s face when he’d opened the door. He highly doubts that Buck came over just to commiserate about the trials and tribulations of watching Christopher grow up.  Eddie bites the bullet. “Why are you here, Buck?”  Buck shifts nervously. He shrugs and looks away from Eddie. “I — I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to answer that. You’ve never asked me that before.”  Eddie scrubs at his face. “I've never had to ask you that, Buck. Things are different now. You’ve been busy.” 
+
“Wow,” Buck says acidly, all traces of heartbreak gone. “I’ve never heard that one before.”  Eddie frowns. “What?”  “Really, Eddie?” Buck’s voice cracks on the last syllable. He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. Just — unbelievable.” “Buck — what are you talking about?”  “We were just trying to protect you, Evan," Buck mocks. "You were never supposed to find out. We kept it from you because we love you. Any of that sound familiar to you?” Eddie’s breath hitches on the word love, because he doesn’t know, he can’t know, but then —  Oh.  Fuck.
+
Buck: We’ll get through this just like everything else. I promise. It’ll be okay.  Buck: Eddie, did you eat enough today? Should I come by and bring you some food? Buck: You know you’re still my best friend, right? That’s never going to change, Eddie. Never.  He reacts with a thumbs up or a tap-back heart on most of the messages, too exhausted to do anything else. He replies with a thumbs down to the message about food, certain that he wouldn’t be able to handle seeing Buck so soon. He knows he’ll have to face him in person eventually, but his tired, broken heart just wants to postpone it as much as he can.  The last one, though, is a balm that both soothes and agitates Eddie’s burning, aching heart, and he taps out a brief, Thank you, you too. Always, in response. It feels like too much and not enough all at once, and Eddie wishes once again that he was a little better at resisting Buck, that he didn’t feel that need to reply to his every message lest Buck worry even more about him. The only one he actually acknowledges is a message that comes in at 2:43 AM on Sunday. As he opens the message, Eddie absentmindedly wonders if Buck’s having a hard time falling asleep for the same reason as him. Probably.  It’s a link to a new exhibit at the Griffith Observatory, accompanied by a text that reads: Can I take Christopher here next weekend? Eddie squeezes back tears as he replies with a brief, Of course, and puts his phone down, letting the darkness swallow him again. 
+
Hen beats him to it. “What happened, Buck? I thought you really liked her. Weren’t you planning to introduce her to Maddie and Chimney next week?”  “Not anymore,” Buck mutters. “I broke up with her.”  “What?” Eddie snaps head snaps up. “Why?”  Buck doesn’t meet his gaze, his lip quivering. The rest of their team is watching them, eyes darting back and forth, and Buck blinks hesitantly before swallowing down a sip of coffee. He wipes the cream off of his upper lip and looks Eddie in the eye.  “You know why,” Buck whispers. 
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eldaryasharbinger · 2 days
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Making this post again, this time as it's own post and not a reblog (for context, the original post that inspired me to actually share what Is going on my head was about a theory on Jason's possible dynamic with Candy so I'm writing my own thoughts about it! I'm brainrotting about it so you've been warned!)
OP was talking about "imagine if Jason is actually just going to manipulate you for his own power and success" and something along the lines, not 100% accurate I just can't remember it right now so I might reblog it later just in case anyone wants to give it a read!
So now I'm like, ok HEAR ME OUT and consider my candy Petronilla the example candy here because that's the way I thought about all these (she's got the sweet personality, is all pink and pretty so keep that in mind ok??!)
Okay now we can really get into it and I'll start by saying, what if Jason did not only just fall FIRST but also HARDER and is either in denial or too arrogant to admit it or something like that yk, like he's been actively trying to seduce the enemie's new girl just to end up falling in love "accidentally"(???) and he feels like it's not possible that he's just imagining things so he pretends it's not true (kinda something similar to what actually happens in Baldur's Gate 3 and Astarion, he tried to get into your sheets for his own protection and ends up catching feelings for Tav)
But once he's like "oh shit! I really do love her!" he suddenly feels bad about himself because he genuinely cares about candy but he's not right for her since he's this annoying b- I mean, since everyone else low-key despises him too, so maybe he's kinda worried that he can't be good or that candy could NEVER feel the same way after everything she knows about him and everything Roy Devon etc could've told her about him (this is the angst part in the enemies to lovers...)
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I got inspiration from this pic, I don't even know the context but IMAGINE he's looking at candy like that because he doesn't really know what to do about it but he loves her dearly or sum and he's kind of frustrated??
Like I don't know if that's just me but I don't only see "love" in his look I kinda see sadness as well?? something like that?? YEARNING even???
While she's just there, with her doe eyes... not knowing how much this man cares... Like tell me my version wouldn't go great with Hozier's song "Too Sweet" (currently going viral I think on Instagram and idk about TikTok since I'm not on there, I only know about it because of the Harvey Stardew Valley edits lol)
take a look at the lyrics please and pretend with me, let's be crazy about this together...
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(realistically I don't really know if this could be possible like in the canon so I'm not even going to say that it's a theory. I only thought about it when I saw Jason's expression in that exact picture a little bit before launch, got inspiration for my new MCL Oc Petronilla, had no context and still RAN with it)
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pomefioredove · 9 hours
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Can we have kalim's ending for the yuu auction as well? I was pretty excited for his outcome
of course of course!
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parts 1 | 2 | 3
summary: a kalim ending type of post: short fic characters: kalim additional info: yuu is gender neutral, this is maybe a little short, hi kalim :)
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"Problems don't just go away when you throw money at them, you know," Vil says. The tone of his voice is sour, and he's making no effort to hide it. "You'll have to actually take some responsibility."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oh, shut it. They're not a pet, they can handle themselves. You're just butthurt it wasn't you,"
"And yet, here you are, still moping just the same," he snaps back. "Kalim, congratulations. I'm sure the prefect will- where'd he go?"
Despite their best efforts, Kalim hadn't heard a single word of the other housewarden's well wishes (and warnings).
He was gone before they'd even started, in fact.
Even with all he'd had prepared beforehand- the new room, the uniforms, all of your favorite foods- there was suddenly a list a mile long on his mind.
First, he had to get you.
Then, he had to show you around your new place.
Then, dinner.
Followed by dessert, of course.
(Maybe a light appetizer to start? Why hadn't he thought of that already?!)
And then he'd treat you to an evening of your favorite songs, laughter, and fun.
So on, and so forth.
Kalim may be a little oblivious at times, but your poor condition at Ramshackle is no secret to anyone. He'd been talked out of helping more than once before- and, so, this was his chance.
The gravity of technically owning a person who doesn't legally exist in this world hasn't crossed his mind even once. The way he sees it, he gets to host you indefinitely, take you on vacations with his family, treat you to the life you deserve after all you've done for everyone, and no one can tell him no.
Though, something still sits in the back of his mind, something that asks him to walk before running. A voice of reason.
If Kalim had a shoulder angel and devil, both of them would somehow be Jamil:
"I would advise taking it easy on them as they adjust. This whole spectacle must have been difficult for them. You're a good listener when you try. Now's a chance to show that,"
More than anything, Kalim wants to impress you.
Such a thought would make anyone else scoff- the gold and jewels and magic carpets aren't enough?
And his answer would be... well... no.
Kalim possesses many things. He has entire houses full of treasure, trinkets, fine silks, servants at his every whim... and yet, he's still missing something crucial. Something he's become more and more aware of since coming to NRC.
A bond.
Of course, he loves his siblings. And his parents. And the students in Scarabia. And the students in the other dorms. He might consider all of the above friends, but not at the emotional level he seeks. Jamil is a work in progress. But you- you're already well-acquainted, and friendly. You're a gracious guest, a great listener, and... well, you had the kind of bond he looks for with so many other people on campus.
Why else would everyone be lining up to pay to be your friend otherwise?
(That's how he saw it, anyway).
So, he listens. Makes an effort to, anyway. He even stops feeding Grim at dinner when you ask him to.
"Oops!" he says, offering the direbeast a gold-lined handkerchief to wipe around his mouth. "But it's good, right? Jamil's family recipe is always delicious!"
You quirk a smile at him. "I liked it. Grim?"
Grim mumbles something indistinct and crawls to sit on the other side of you.
"I'm glad! I remember you telling me that you miss it from your home- I can't believe some of our recipes are so similar!" he beams. "Maybe Scarabia will start feeling like a home to you, too, then!"
You laugh, a little awkwardly. "Aha... maybe. This is all just so sudden,"
"But... good, right?"
"Yes, good," you smile, tilting your head to the side. "It's a step up from being Crowley's errand-runner and sleeping in the cold, at least."
"Well, you'll certainly never be cold here!"
He laughs again, and a murmur of agreement ripples through the students in attendance, all the way down to the end of the long table.
"Ah... Kalim, this is nice. Really nice... I don't know how I'm going to repay you for any of this,"
"Pay? Like with money?" he raises an eyebrow. "You're my guest, and an honorary member of Scarabia now, so you don't have to do anything but relax."
That's not exactly what you meant, though you don't have the heart to explain what exactly Crowley's care had been like.
"...Right. But really, if you need anything done- I'll be glad to do it,"
He's quiet for a moment, thinking. "Well... if you're really bored, I'm sure you could find something to do. We have lots of board games,"
"No, I meant like, work,"
Kalim blinks. "Why would you have to work?"
You should've just let it go. Now this is getting embarrassing, admitting all that Crowley had you do when you had no say in the matter.
"You know... to earn my keep,"
"Earn your..." he squints. "You don't have to earn anything. Having you here is reward enough for me!"
Sometimes his oblivious nature can be a little comforting.
And even though it's dark, his positivity is as radiant as the sun... you can't help but return his smile.
"Alright, then,"
"Alright! Now..." he says, looking around the table. "Who's ready for dessert?"
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ask-shane · 2 days
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blog basics
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this is a safe for work ask/roleplay blog for the character shane from stardew valley
takes place in the same universe as the game
in-game calendar & timeline is NOT strictly followed
headcanons are involved, expect slight deviations to the canon alongside personal interpretations
asks are processed via inbox only
whether the ask box is open or closed can be seen in the blog bio
blog bio is regularly updated to reflect this
if you comment under the posts, shane may reply!
special limited time ‘events' are sometimes done here
i reserve the right to deny (not answer, delete, or block) asks from anyone for any reason
guidelines & to-know
avoid sending specific questions about IRL people, media, music, or events. (while i will sometimes answer them, there are a couple big problems i face. namely, that it is hard for me as one person to know/research all the media that is sent in)
for safety reasons, i will not be answering asks with links in them.
the conversations between you and shane are exclusive to you and him, and aren’t necessarily involved with other people's plans. (for example: he can go to the flower dance with several different people, because you all exist in different timelines. so he can be in multiple places at once ;D)
it is easier to answer shorter straightforward asks than longer ones, so i may answer those first
some canon festivals are celebrated here and some are not. it depends on what i have the time for/remember lol
make my job easier and refrain from breaking the fourth wall... it gets so awkward sometimes 😭
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Alien Day falls in Lesbian Visibility Week, so that means I need to write for the lesbian Crowlien au because we love monster women here. Even though this story technically takes place before Aziraphale mutates into an alien.
I just wanted to write a little soft fluff with them before shit happened. Even if there is mentioning of what happens post-alien encounter.
On with the fic!
--
Crowley was grinning as she crossed through the ship's halls, looking for the medical wing. She had something hidden behind her back as she slipped past an irritated looking Furfur, nearly dropping it when he almost tripped her. "Whoa! Who pissed in your cornflakes?" She sniffed, giving him a look.
Furfur looked back at her, clucking his tongue. "Just the annoying, forgetful redhead who, once again, left me doing her job!"
Crowley blinked, then considered what he meant. "You went and fixed the issue with the lights in med bay?"
"Yes. Which your... wife kept trying to get you to fix!" He spat the word 'wife' out as if it tasted terrible. God, he was never going to get over Crowley rejecting him, is he? "Apparently she'd been trying to contact you all morning, and you didn't answer any of her calls."
"Was busy with that repair job Gabe's was bitchin' about at dinner last night, the one he told me I had to do first thing in the mornin', remember?" Crowley stuck out her tongue at him. "Anyway, I need to go and see my wife about something more important than the malfunctionin' lights in the keyboard of her computer! Ta~!"
She cackled and ran to Aziraphale's office, slapping the door button, watching it slide open.
Aziraphale was inside, typing away at her computer with just her index fingers. It's amazing how much of an old lady she could be, even at her age, it was so cute. She seemed so focused on whatever she typing that she hadn't noticed Crowley or the door opening.
Crowley chuckled softly, leaning against the door frame, waiting for her wife to finally notice.
In three... two...
"Oh! Darling!" Aziraphale looked up, smiling brightly. "I didn't hear you come in!"
"Course not, too busy doin' nerdy medical stuffy, eh?"
"Hush you." Aziraphale replied, then pouted. "Where were you? I've been trying to contact your communication device all morning! Did you forget to charge it again?"
"One, no, it was charged, remember? You saw me plug it in. Two, just call it a comm, angel, no one calls it a 'communication device'." Crowley moved from the door, hearing it shut behind her, hands still kept behind her back as she approached the desk.
"And I was fixin' that thing for the captain, cause if I didn't, you know he'd hound me for it all fuckin' day."
"Ah, that is true." Aziraphale said, then glanced to the side, trying to see what Crowley was hiding. "What's that?"
Crowley grinned. "Do you know what day it is?"
Aziraphale blinked owlishly behind those little glasses she wore when reading. "Tuesday?"
"Well, yes, but the date?"
"It's August..." She glanced at her calendar, then gasped. "It's my-!"
"Happy birthday!" Crowley shouted, holding out the yellow gift bag she had been trying to keep hidden.
Aziraphale stood up, looking so excited as she walked around the desk. "Oh, you clever snake, you didn't have to get me anything!"
"Too late, got it right before we left, so I clearly can't take it back! WAAAAYYYY past the thirty day return limit!"
The doctor laughed and kissed Crowley on the cheek before taking the bag, looking inside. "Oh, oh Crowley..." She pulled out a book, one that was clearly old, but in a very well-kept condition. "Is this...?"
"A first edition copy of Persuasion? Your favorite book? It might be."
"Darling, this is just... it's too much!"
"Nothing is too much for my wife, my favorite person, my beloved angel." Crowley smiled, holding her close, kissing her neck. "Do you like?"
Aziraphale set the book and bag on her desk, then leaned into the hold, kissing her right on the lips. "I love it. I love you. You make me so happy."
Crowley kissed her on the forehead. "Good, when you're happy, I'm happy. I love you too, angel."
--
Crowley looked at the pages in front of her, having paused mid-sentence in her reading aloud of the book. She heard the soft sounds of Aziraphale sleeping, felt the warm, moist breath through those terrifying teeth against her shirt where her wife was resting her head.
She grabbed for the bookmark nearby, slipping it into place, then closed the book. She looked at the cover, seeing the single word of the title. It was still in good condition, minus tiny tears from where Aziraphale had tried to grab it in her clawed hands.
It bothered her to not be able to hold her precious books anymore, but Crowley was there to do that, to help her enjoy them by reading the stories aloud. Granted, Crowley didn't often like the books Aziraphale enjoyed, some of them were so gloomy, but it made her wife happy, and that's what Crowley enjoyed most.
She sighed softly, setting the book aside, looking at bone-white locks of messy hair, at a face that seemed more like a skull than the cherubic face she was used to, but she still saw her wife there, that beautiful angel she married.
Things would never be like that birthday when Aziraphale got her book, when it had been such a good day, only for things to go to shit just two weeks later.
But that was alright, Crowley still had Aziraphale, even if she was a bit different than before. Her angel was happy, even like this, and that meant Crowley was happy.
--
Something sweet, before all hell broke loose.
Also, yes, Crowley reads to Aziraphale now, it's so hard for her to do it herself.
Oh, I really like the idea that Furfur has feelings for Crowley, who has been married to Aziraphale for years. Sir, move on, you're never gonna get the girl. (Also, you die anyway, but still).
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elfguys · 3 days
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okkk posting a draft of cherry and fandaniel thing. its not nsfw but like. leading to it. its a scene before sex probably. ive posted a few things from it already.
He prodded at the roasted beef on the plate with his fork, the flesh was overly tender, falling apart at the softest press of his fork. There was an unfamiliar hunger growing in the pit of his stomach that felt misplaced. Things once dead shouldn’t be so tempting.
“I spent the day preparing it for us,” Fandaniel gave him a knowing look across the table, as if tempting him with his eyes. “Please, don’t hurt my feelings by not giving it a honest try. You might come to like it, my dear.”
Cherry gave him a glare for a moment, before straightening his back, he wasn’t here to pick a fight when there was information he could gain, and so much to lose if he didn’t play politics with this ascian. Clearing his throat, “I don’t eat meat is all, sorry to offend.” He twirled the goblet of wine the host across from him had poured for him, fainting interest in the alcohol. “Is this imported?” There was a role to be played before he could pry on intent.
There was a small bit of sourness on the hosts face as he leaned into the velvet backing of the chair, a theatrical sigh left his mouth, all the time with the dramatics. He was the worst ascian Cherry had the displeasure of talking to, nothing seemed genuine, it was hard to tell where he began and where he ended with his acting. “I am a terrible host for not asking a preference for dinner, but it was so hard to get you alone, completely alone.” His voice lowered to a sonorous tone. “Grateful though, the savior of humanity, the hero of this tale, could indulge me with a night. I will hold this memory dearly.”
“Mhm,” Cherry mumbled during a cursory sip after inspecting the wine for any poisons or other methods of foul play. “Why did you invite this get together, again?”
That seemed to spark his interest as he leaned forward and rested his arms on the wood table. “We both want something with this arrangement, Warrior of Light. You want, no, need to know more about me, isn’t that correct? To get an idea of how to stop me?” He smiled like a fox with a rabbit in his teeth. “You were special to a man I share the memories of. Disgustingly special. You don’t remember him, but I remember you, of all your qualities and accomplishments.” Something was mixed in his words there, something bitter, despite the praise. His eyes briefly flickered downwards. “Surely, you want to know more, your mind is magnificently curious, it is simple to see.”
For what little he knew of Fandaniel, this was off kilter for his tightly knitted mask of personality, causing Cherry to stare at him temporarily, scrutinizing every detail. “You seem genuine.” “Oh, you hurt my heart with your words! I have only been genuine.” “Liar.”
There was a pause in Fandaniel’s wit as he let out a cold chuckle, “I am reaching my hand out, Warrior of Light, can’t you see it in your heart to catch me and embrace me?”
That feeling in the pit of his stomach again stirred, Cherry reached for his glass of wine to find it empty, must’ve finished it without thinking. The gnawing sensation that he was going to do something uncharacteristic of a heroic man, to behave on self interest, something he had tried to work out of him over the years.
“At least tell more information than that, I’m not rejecting anything. It’s unfair for you to say such things without explaining.” Not that you have ever explained yourself in a manner that is rational. Cherry reached for the wine bottle in the center, only to be met with Fandaniel’s hand meeting his own.
“No need to drink so hurriedly.” His hand was soft against Cherry’s scarred and battle worn hands, his voice was more off putting to him than usual, it was all too soft. “I want you to remember as well, all the details.” Fingers interlocking each other. “His name was Hermes. You would have liked him, I believe. But he was a dour man, despite living in paradise, but he had you, well, a unsundered you, at his side to ease his disposition.”
He was too fascinated at his tale to take care of their hands interlocking, or that his heart seemed to pick up speed, to pick at his hosts brain was of the most importance. I have heard from other ascians’ something of my soul being familiar. Confirms my suspicions. “Why would you hate living in something you’ve described as a paradise?” “To everyone else, but everyone is blind to truth, suffering, that the only way to remove pain is to remove it at the start.” Fascinating.
“I’ve come to my conclusion.” He chimed in, reassuring his self appointed truth, in that there was no changing.
“I didn’t think I had any foothold to change your mind on the matter so easily.” And Cherry was not a fool to mistake a crack in the door as an opening. “And that, my darling, is why I’ve always liked you so much.” Fandaniel cooed, rubbing his thumb against the back of Cherry’s hand, paying attention to running over healed scars.
“I think I’ve given you a good taste, something to ease some of your endless hunger of knowledge.” Fandaniel lifted Cherry’s hand to hover over his lips with an impish expression. “While I don’t feel a connection to that man, I do feel something special with you, and I know you feel a draw between us. If there was someone I would want to experience pleasure with before ending the world, it would be you.”
A hero shouldn’t act in such a manner, so many of those look at me for guidance in this world, but I never agreed to be looked towards for morals or to be an idealistic person to be. Yet, the hunger he spoke of was identical.
“Don’t muddy my feelings with talking about the world ending.” “My apologies, my prince. I wanted to make my vision clear, a night of pleasure for us both, and then we continue on our paths.”
Fandaniel kissed the knuckle of Cherry’s hand, gesturing for forgiveness. He needed to decide, quickly, either to run away with the information he has gained or to confront his own feelings of neediness. Just a taste. “Then, it’s agreed upon.” Impassively speaking, as if it was business as usual.
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daffi-990 · 3 months
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Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday
Tagged by the ever wonderful and talented @diazsdimples
I spent the morning skimming through the end half of 3x02 Sink or Swim and tip tap typing away at Chapter Eight of Rival Firefighters 🚒. Excited that I’m up to the tsunami, but also a bit overwhelmed for what I have to write for this chapter because I really want my vision to translate properly to paper (or well, screen in this case. Or word document? Idk but y’all know what I mean ). I’ll just keep typing away and hopefully it’ll all come together and if not … well that’s what editing is for 😅.
Prev snippet here.
Eddie had no idea what to expect as the 118 drove towards the scene of the tsunami.
Being a firefighter he’d seen his fair share of disasters, but as they arrived on scene, his heart sank at the sight of the destruction.
The ocean had swallowed up the once bustling city of Los Angeles, leaving behind only ruin and sorrow in its wake. The streets were flooded, people desperately searching amidst the water and debris for their loved ones. The smell of saltwater lingered in the air and if you closed your eyes, for a moment you could almost pretend you were at the beach, until the anguished cries of the people of Los Angeles echoed around you.
Eddie and the rest of the 118 unload from the engine and make their way into the flooded city in rescue zodiac boats. Bobby and Eddie ride together in one boat with Anderson, Stover and Campbell, Hen and Chim with Smith, Calley and Rosen in the other.
As they move through the flooded streets, they check every single body they come across and tag them so that another team can come through and collect them, ensuring the bodies make it back to their loved ones. Every tag they leave weighs heavily on them, but they can’t let the weight drag them down. People are depending on them. They have to keep moving forward.
No pressure tagging: @thewolvesof1998 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @athenagranted @exhuastedpigeon @puppyboybuckley @wikiangela @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @tizniz @prettyboybuckley @princessfbi @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @sibylsleaves @spagheddiediaz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @king-buckley @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag ❤️
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zebratimw · 11 months
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Spirit animal SQH
#svsss#shang qinghua#but mainly I'm just here to vague post LMAO I don't like to vague post its not very effective in terms of venting but#but basically I guess I'm becoming hyperaware of my like... cognitive dissonance codependency and derealization ee#also my general laziness ig and where it overlaps into executive dysfunction or whatever like I may genuinely have some issues but#I am also a lazy son of a bitch jfjfkgkg and i need to figure out how to figure it out so I can work on both in more effective ways hhggg#oh yeah but basically the thing to remember for later is the silence in the call and the immediate unmute and chat activity once I left#I should remember this and stop interacting I think? I should try to give em space I think I'm being too clingy or something#or maybe my own silence is too awkward and dampens the call? I was kinda just spacing out and not doing anything so I get its kinda weird#LMAO so I should just like try not to be in call for those times mm#I just like being in call with my friends jdhfkg but I suppose its not very good either#I overindulge I suppose another friend pointed it out to me before too haha but fjfjjt its just easier than facing bouts of dread by myself#eehh and that's why I gotta do something about my Metnal Ailneses hfjfj but ngl I don't really know how to go about it...#I get embarrassed looking stuff up djfnfkg and half the time I don't even know what to look up I just draw ?s and I give up#I suppose I also have commitment issues too but that ones not new which is an issue of itself aaaaaaaa#man idk idk I just don't really get it I guess djdjfjf and I've got existential dreads and think maybe it doesn't really matter whats wrong#cause there's no point to fixing them because ultimately I'm gonna die alone and a failure anyways? so like ehfjgkg idk#its depressing and I know its like sabotage cause my brain is being a little silly a little goofy and its not a shared sentiment#with the better half of me and the entirety of my friends but yknow its just ee harder sometimes to believe in the optimism ig#and i can talk about it somewhat normally and without like having a ✨️break down#but yknow djfjgkg I'm very emotional a person ya? I think sqh is relatable for gods sake 💀#irrationality sentimentality nihilism and existential dreads... wanting to die because living is too hard despite all my hopes for living...#just the ol regulars yknow?#and another thing... do I talk to my friends about these things? I vent them out here a lot but what do I really want?#I'm not strong enough to keep it to myself clearly but I'm also too proud to share these thoughts? I dump them out in the open and for what?#whenever someone reaches out with concern and care I don't respond in kind and refuse to elaborate?#so like what do I want with this? I guess I want someone to know I'm going insane half the time I'm awake? but not do anything about it?#that's pretty unfair I guess... and stupid I think I do want to share my thoughts with someone but I'm too scared of the ramifications#and that my pride can't stand the fact I might be looked differently by my friends even tho the image they have of me is already quite silly#man.... idk.... I'll come to conclusions myself and do nothing about them so I guess that'll happen again aah idk idk idk
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Chapters 53-64
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